Some people can’t but help get lucky. Such was the case with Sally Ebbett. She fell in love with a Bohemian gentleman who was Count Fridrik Hasištejnský z Lobkowicz. Sally loved his accent. He was not only titled but rich. Count Fridrik Hasištejnský z Lobkowicz proposed and they were married on a Croatian mountaintop with a magnificent view. Sally wanted a lavish church wedding, but Count Fridrik Hasištejnský z Lobkowicz thought something simpler was a lot nicer. And indeed it was!
Count Fridrik Hasištejnský z Lobkowicz had a castle which Sally had never seen. It was in the hinterland and full of tapestries and servants. Sally couldn’t wait to get there, but her husband kept suggesting other plans for them to enjoy their early married life.
“It doesn’t hurt for us rich people to occasionally rough it like ordinary poor folk,” said Count Fridrik Hasištejnský z Lobkowicz. (He pronounced “poor folk” as “purr Voke”; he was so Bohemian! so disarming!) “It is easy to lose touch with reality and misplace one’s humility. A simple walk in a dark forest is more agreeable than having a servant dust your bookshelf.”
They lived for a while in a little caravan on the side of a river. Sally’s husband liked to fish. He certainly led the life of the landed gentry! Who else could afford not to work and to fish all day?
Eventually Sally got really sick of him. “I want to go to my castle and live the life of the rich,” said Sally.
But there was no castle. There was no fortune. And conman, Johnny Jones from the next village, was now floating down the river with his head decapitated by a spade.