Once upon a time, Wiprecht of Groitzsch controlled a swathe of eastern Germany and built castles to match. A millenium later, our attempts to trace his legacy turned up something quite different from the wooden keeps and simple enclosures he would have known. A neo-gothic fever dream to rival Neuschwanstein, a WWII POW camp, a towering stone pile that could double for a medieval cathedral and the oldest surviving brick tower in Saxony.
He wouldn’t recognise any of them … even the venerable tower came some years after his death … but what the quartet became testifies to the power base he built. Sadly, all soon came under the control of the rival Wettin family. They became the comedy villains of our trip, prompting a running joke about irritation over the stolen family castles*. One can’t get too angry at the Wettins, however, as it’s their ongoing good taste in art and architecture that makes all of these castles worth seeing.
MEISSEN
My favourite was Meissen. Wiprecht’s highest achievement in the medieval hierarchy was being named Margrave of the territory. But titles can be deceiving. In a time of internal strife, the king might have named him Margrave, but he had to take the territory back from rebels. He never did—so he never ruled or lived here. The tenuous link? Wiprecht’s daughter married into the family who did secure the title and eventually ruled all of Saxony: the Wettins.
None of that dynastic drama is required to enjoy this extraordinary castle. It’s had a remarkable history, going from aristocratic castle to factory to political statement.
In the 18th century, Augustus the Strong—a Wettin—turned the castle into a porcelain factory, deciding that being the first Europeans to break the Chinese monopoly on the technology of tableware could put Saxony on the economic map. When the factory moved to purpose-built accommodations in the 19th century, the castle underwent a romanticised refit, emerging as a neo-medieval fantasy celebrating the Wettin legacy just as Germany was unifying and glorifying its past.
Today, visitors explore three expansive floors. Even those in a rush should allow at least 90 minutes. The ground floor features the grandest rooms, with enormous wall paintings of Saxon history, polychrome statues, intricately carved fireplaces, painted ceilings, and panoramic views through leaded-glass windows. These are amongst the most fantastic interiors we saw on the trip.
The upper floors cover the history of the Wettin dynasty and the castle’s construction. Medieval engineering buffs could easily spend hours on the top floor alone. And good news for those with creaky knees: there’s a lift.
There are a few porcelain-themed rooms here, but if you're serious about Meissen’s most famous product, head to the other side of town. The factory now houses demonstration studios, a sprawling museum with historic and contemporary pieces, and a shop where you can buy items like a €240 thermal to-go cup made from Meissen porcelain. The castle offers a combination ticket, but note the geography: it’s not just a mile’s walk, it’s a six-storey descent from the castle mound to town. Plan accordingly.
The walk is worth it if you have the time. The town centre between the castle and the factory is a delight, full of charming shops and restaurants. Don’t miss the storybook market square with a church featuring a carillon made entirely of Meissen porcelain bells. Castle, town, and factory together can easily fill an entire day.
COLDITZ
To many, Colditz is synonymous with World War II. It served as the notorious POW camp for troublesome Allied officers and inspired films like The Colditz Story and The Great Escape. But its history stretches far deeper.
Wiprecht built the first castle here, selecting a strategic defensive site that remained important throughout the Middle Ages. The fortress later evolved into a Renaissance palace, then a 17th-century hunting lodge with grand formal gardens. It got a neoclassical facelift in the 18th century, and in the 19th it became a posh sanatorium for wealthy patients with mental health conditions. Under the GDR, it returned to medical use as a psychiatric hospital.
The exteriors remain impressive: two towering Renaissance blocks bristling with varied rooflines, towers, and cupolas, clustered around twin courtyards atop a rocky outcrop. Off one courtyard you’ll find the museum, off the other a youth hostel. The interiors of the museum buildings are mostly bare. When the Saxon state took over in the early 2000s, the buildings were empty shells, layered with hospital fittings. Restoration work stripped those back, revealing traces of earlier eras, but what remains is largely structural.
That said, the curators have done wonders. Visitors are given Histopads, tablets that interact with each room. You can choose stories from the Renaissance, the POW era, or the hospital years. The WWII content includes an escape game where you search for tools to plan your breakout, and remarkable tales of escape attempts. The Renaissance stories let you explore lavish reconstructions of historic rooms in 360° views. Up in the attic, a film tells the story of a glider secretly built by British prisoners—never launched, but faithfully reconstructed here in scale model form. A flight simulator lets you try piloting their intended escape route. (I crashed every time.)
Other artefacts from the castle’s varied history include a complete hidden radio room discovered during renovation. Starting with little more than bare walls, the curators have created a surprisingly rich experience with something for almost everyone.
ROCHLITZ AND MILDENSTEIN
We spent so much time enjoying Colditz that we ran out of time to go inside Wiprecht’s other two castles nearby—but we did walk around the exteriors.
Rochlitz presents a dramatic contrast to Colditz’s somewhat playful exterior. Built from darker stone and plastered in somber render, it has a blockier silhouette, with corner towers capped in black conical roofs. In a Disney film, this would be the villain’s lair. From another angle, however, it evokes a cathedral, with twin towers and a long nave-like body stretching back from them. It overlooks the picturesque little town of Rochlitz (population: 5,688), nestled beside the broad Zwickauer Mulde river and surrounded by verdant farmland and woods. The few other tourists seemed to be locals, out enjoying the hiking trails.
Half an hour away, Mildenstein crowns the hill above the town of Leisnig (population: 8,249). It’s harder to appreciate from the ground—approaching from the front gate, it looks modest: whitewashed buildings with slate roofs strung along the ridge. But the vertical climb from the car park underscores just how commanding the site is. Terraced gardens now cover the steep slopes that were once crucial for defence. It’s only from aerial drone footage that the full layout becomes clear: a ring of later buildings surrounding the original round keep, whose Late 12th-century brickwork makes it the oldest standing castle tower in Saxony.
Leisnig itself looked well worth a stroll, but the day … and our energy … was fading. Trying to squeeze all three sites into one day was overly ambitious. Rochlitz and Mildenstein would make a fine day trip of their own, perhaps with a leisurely lunch in Leisnig between them.
Just as enjoyable as the castles themselves was the drive between them. They form a triangle through fertile countryside that reminded me of Salisbury Plain or my native Hampshire. Vast fields of yellow rapeseed stretched to the horizon. Orchards shimmered with white blossom. Lilacs thrust purple spikes skyward along roadsides and in cottage gardens. It’s a spectacularly beautiful area to explore—especially in late April.
*My husband, a pedant for accuracy, requires me to point out that he descended down a female line just a few generations after Wiprecht. So even if the von Groitzsch family had managed to stay in control, his ancestors never would have lived in the castles we see today. Still, it’s fun to dream, eh?
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