Holy Monkey! Would you look at that beautiful beast of a courthouse! It was striking as I crossed the bridge over the Gasconade River and saw it overlooking from atop the bluff. It was even moreso as I stood at the foot of it, glancing up the hill, considering all the stairs I would be about to climb. It was glorious to behold. It was especially interesting because it’s believed to be the only courthouse in America built entirely with private funds; a wealthy citizen left money for it in his will. I believe he got his money’s worth. I thought it was Neoclassical but I was mistaken; it was Beaux Arts, which I thought was indicative of a French influence. I was very, very wrong. The only thing French about Hermann was the name of the county. We had to go around a couple of blocks to get close to the courthouse and the streets were filled with folks much like in St. Charles, though none of them were in costume. They milled about the streets, from brewery to winery to distillery. Trolley busses ran around the town as well, no doubt ferrying drinkers from one source of drink to another. That’s when I noticed that they had a lot of alcohol generation facilities on those streets. When I saw the woman wearing the dirndl, it started to click for me. This place was German as all get out. Der Wurst Haus? I saw a young dude crossing a street wearing lederhosen. The local laundromat was called Das Wash Haus! They have a frickin’ statue of Arminius, architect of the Teutoberg Forest and Savior of the German Language, on their town square! This may well have been the most German place I’d ever been, which was surprising because I’ve been to Fredericksburg tons of times.
As mentioned previously, I had to climb a lot of steps to get to the courthouse front (though not as many as it looked like) for a Virtual resident there, the most favorited cache in the county. In front of the courthouse was a cannon used to defend the city against Confederate raids. It survived being spiked, thrown in the river, and later retrieved. Unfortunately, if could not survive the fiftieth anniversary of Hermann’s founding. They decided to fire it 50 times in celebration and shot 48 tore a hole in its side that ended its life as a useful weapon. But it was still useful for my purposes. Examining the trunnions (protruding side cylinders that mount it to a carriage), I found the name of the city it had been cast in. I sent it off to the CO and then my daughter and I logged it, completing our visit to Klein-Bayern. We continued west, passing the occasional trolley going to or coming from one of the outlying wineries until they had all disappeared and we were fast approaching…
