Centuries ago, whispers of “Liubice” echoed through this very air. Alt-Lübeck, the precursor to the Lübeck we know today, thrived here from around 819 to 1138. Alt-Lübeck wasn’t situated on an island like modern Lübeck. It occupied a strategic peninsula. This peninsula was formed by a curve of the Trave River and the confluence of the Schwartau River. Imagine a bustling Slavic settlement, a hub of activity and trade. Alt-Lübeck stood as a testament to the ingenuity and resilience of the Wagrier and Polabian peoples. They established a network of villages and fortifications across the region. This included Oldenburg, Plön, Ratzeburg, and of course, Liubice. Alt-Lübeck flourished under Prince Henry, son of Gottschalk. He transformed it into a sophisticated urban center. It boasted a fortified castle, a bustling port, and two thriving suburban settlements. A separate merchant settlement sprung up on the opposite riverbank. A church graced the castle grounds. Its description, sadly, has been lost to time. However, the echoes of worship and community life undoubtedly resonated throughout Alt-Lübeck. This location wasn’t just a strategic stronghold. It was a royal residence, a mint for coining currency, and a vital trading post connecting Scandinavia and the East. Alt-Lübeck’s story took a tragic turn in 1138. The Ranen, a West Slavic tribe, razed the settlement to the ground. Though destroyed, Alt-Lübeck’s legacy lived on. Its name and its spirit were transferred to a new settlement. This new settlement, on the Bucu peninsula, would eventually become the Lübeck we know and admire today. Even after the destruction of Alt-Lübeck, the Abodrites continued to hold their council meetings. These meetings took place in front of St. Mary’s Church in the new Lübeck, a poignant reminder of their connection to this land. Fragments of Slavic legal traditions were preserved in Lübeck Law, a testament to Alt-Lübeck’s enduring influence. Today, Alt-Lübeck stands as a silent witness to centuries of history. It whispers tales of Slavic heritage, royal ambition, and the enduring power of community.
Hermann-Löns-Blick
“Did anyone bring binoculars?” a young boy excitedly asks his parents, pointing towards the top of the structure. High above