Acknowledgements
I began writing this book during a blissful fall semester at the American Academy in Berlin and cannot imagine a more ideal incubator for a nascent project. Director Gary Smith and his staff have realised a Platonic ideal of intellectual vitality, providing fellows with long hours of contemplative serenity in a stunning Wannsee villa, incomparable support services, and countless opportunities for intellectual interaction, all topped off by the nightly dining extravaganzas of chef Reinold Kegel. Among the many Academy staff members who contributed to this idyllic environment, Gary Smith, R. Jay Magill, Alissa Burmeister, Malte Mau, and Yolande Korb all deserve special thanks. My family and I were also blessed by an exceptionally convivial cohort of resident fellows, all of whom shared in many hours of lively conversation, urban adventures, and fierce Ping-Pong games (Jochen Hellbeck still owes me a rematch). I am particularly grateful for the friendship and inspiration of Nathan Englander, Rachel Silver, George Packer, and Laura Secor. This book owes a lot as well to the generosity of the universally admired Rick Atkinson, who not only shared with me some wise advice on constructing a narrative, but also the names of his excellent literary agent and his cartographer (but held on to all of those Pulitzers).
During the course of archival work, I benefited considerably from the expert guidance of Dr. Stefan Nöth and Dr. Klaus Rupprecht at the Staatsarchiv Bamberg, Dr. Arnd Kluge of the Hof Stadtarchiv, Dr. Gerhard Rechter and Dr. Gunther Friedrich at the Staatsarchiv Nürnberg, Dr. Andrea Schwarz of the Landeskirchlichesarchiv Nürnberg, Dr. Christine Sauer of the Stadtbibliothek Nürnberg, andDr. Horst-Dieter Beyerstedt of the Stadtarchiv Nürnberg. Dr. Martin Baumeister of the Germanisches Nationalmuseum Nürnberg generously devoted an entire morning to discussing and showing me various execution swords, even allowing me to examine closely and wield (at a safe distance) one specimen that might have belonged to Meister Frantz himself. Michaela Ott likewise indulged me with an extended private tour of Nuremberg’s Lochgefängnis (dungeon), patiently answering my most arcane queries and allowing me to make measurements and take photos of this still chilling venue. Dr. Hartmut Frommer, who has overseen a remarkable transformation of the Hangman’s House into an exemplary museum of criminal legal history, has welcomed me repeatedly into his study at the top of the house’s tower, shared his vast knowledge of Nuremberg’s legal past and Franconian geography, and introduced me to the finer points of Nuremberg’s famed sausages.
Back in Nashville, numerous friends and colleagues have helped me see the book to completion. Steve Pryor was the first to read the manuscript as a whole and Holly Tucker braved large chunks at an early stage. Their suggestions improved both the clarity and flow of the narrative considerably. The legal scholar and gifted author Dan Scharfstein lent his keen editorial eye to several chapters and Ellen Fanning gave me a molecular biologist’s take on it all. My greatest intellectual debts continue to be to my remarkable colleagues in Vanderbilt’s history department, whose breadth of knowledge and unstinting generosity continue to amaze me. By rights I should list them all by name, but in the interest of brevity I will single out Michael Bess, Bill Caferro, Marshall Eakin, Jim Epstein, Peter Lake, Jane Landers, Catherine Molineux, Matt Ramsey, Helmut Smith, and Frank Wcislo. Graduate students Christopher Mapes, Frances Kolb, and Sean Bortz each helped immensely with various editing and illustration tasks. Despite my best efforts, I have been unable to stump Jim Toplon and his crack team at Vanderbilt Interlibrary Loan – and that is no empty boast. I thank my provost, Richard McCarty, and my dean, Carolyn Dever, for their consistent moral and financial support of this project.
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