O to be a hawk on an escarpment, freed from the wrist of Radbot. O, to feel the wind of Swabia in my feathers, to taste the flesh of prey in my red beak!
Instead I am a lowly scribe of sandwiches.
buttondown.email/theswordandt...
Ok, I'm just skimming your article and liking it, but then I came across the line regarding the Hapsburg's: "unfortunate, slab-like jawlines".
That right there is some brilliant historiological prose!
