Bayard Taylor opens his History of Germany with a striking claim: the history of Germany is not that of a nation but of a race. This framing shapes a narrative that treats German history as the main trunk from which the histories of nearly all European nations branch. Taylor draws on three German works—Dittmar, Von Rochau, and David Müller—to construct a continuous narrative that compresses their material into less than half the space. The result is a work designed for both school use and general readers, offering a clear line of connection across centuries.

A Narrative of Fragmented Unity

Taylor acknowledges the difficulty of his subject: German history has little unity, is complicated, broken, and attached on all sides to other countries. He does not gloss over this fragmentation but instead uses it as a structural principle. The narrative moves from the earliest times through the Roman Empire, the rise of the Hapsburgs, and the complex web of alliances and conflicts that defined the Holy Roman Empire. Taylor’s method is to present a clear, continuous story while omitting no episode of importance. The result is a history that feels both comprehensive and deliberately shaped, with each century connected to the next through a distinct line of causation.

The Swiss Battles as a Turning Point

The excerpts detailing the battles of Grandson and Morat in 1476 illustrate Taylor’s narrative style. He describes the Swiss army falling on their knees to pray before battle, Charles the Bold’s boast that not one shall escape, and the panic that seizes the Burgundians when the horns of the mountaineers are heard. Taylor’s account is vivid and concrete: the Swiss divide money by hatfuls, Charles’s body is found covered with blood and mud. These details serve a larger argument: after these defeats, the German Empire never again claimed jurisdiction over Switzerland. The little communities of free people become an eye-sore to princes but a hope to their people. Taylor uses this episode to show how local resistance reshaped the political map.

The Hapsburgs and the Burgundian Inheritance

Taylor traces how the Hapsburg dynasty profited from the fall of Charles the Bold. Mary of Burgundy marries Maximilian in 1477, and he establishes his court in Flanders. Taylor notes Maximilian’s handsomeness and intellectual gifts, calling him the most accomplished knight of his day. The narrative then follows Maximilian’s defeat of Louis XI in 1479 and the accidental death of Mary of Burgundy three years later. Taylor’s prose remains focused on political and military events, with little speculation about character. He presents the Hapsburg rise as a direct consequence of Burgundy’s collapse, linking the fate of dynasties to the outcomes of battles and marriages.

Taylor’s history is best approached as a continuous narrative rather than a reference work. Readers will find that the author’s choices—what to include, what to compress, and how to connect events—reveal a consistent vision of German history as a story of fragmentation and occasional consolidation. The additional chapter by Marie Hansen Taylor extends this narrative to the late 19th century, maintaining the same simple narrative fashion. For those interested in how 19th-century historians understood Germany’s past, this work offers a clear and accessible entry point.