Three or four miles higher up the valley of Elz is the castle of Pyrmont. It is romantically seated on rocks which border the stream that a little lower down falls in a cascade into a deep pool. This fall is said to have been a favourite resort of the lady whose lover met the sad fate here recorded:—
JUTTA OF PYRMONT.
A minstrel came to the castle-gate,
And tidings ill he bore;
He told of the brave Count Fred’rick’s fate,—
The Count was now no more.
For in the far Italian land,
In lowly grave he lay;
Slain by the loathsome headsman’s hand,
Though spared in the bloody fray.