Queen Maria Sophia of Naples, a Forgotten Heroine

by Carl Küchler

Chapter II
Life at Munich and Possenhofen

Up to the end of the first half of the last century intellectual and artistic development had made little progress in Bavaria. Weimar had become famous as the home of Goethe and Schiller, Herder and Wieland, but Munich was still merely a provincial town, not so large by half as it is to-day, while the many gardens scattered about among the houses gave it an almost rustic air. The population consisted chiefly of artisans, with a few wealthy citizens, the students of the university, and court attachés. Visitors to the capital at that time were few. Of social life, so called, there was practically none, and the free mingling of all classes in public places suggested Italian popular life, especially after King Ludwig’s plans for beautifying the city had begun to attract thither artists of all countries and ages.

With the kings of Bavaria, however, a new order of things was instituted. Ludwig the First, who succeeded Maximilian, was far ahead of most German princes of his time in learning and culture. In early youth he had made himself conspicuous by his hatred of Napoleon, although the conqueror had been his father’s friend and ally. At the Congress of Vienna, Talleyrand had called him a clever madman, and he had been laughed at for his intense enthusiasm over everything pertaining to Germanism. His frequent sojourns in Rome were destined to be of the greatest importance to the art life of Germany, for, on ascending the throne, he swore to make his capital a city of such prominence that “no one should know Germany who had not seen Munich”; and to his honor be it said that he not only kept this vow, but did so with comparatively small means at his command. Thanks to his zeal and energy the finances of the country were soon in excellent condition. Most economical as to his own personal expenses, he devoted large sums to the purchase of rare treasures for the art collections he had planned for his capital, and employed a number of distinguished artists and architects to beautify the city, which now possesses many imperishable reminders of this art-loving sovereign.

Few royal houses of the present day can furnish examples of such harmony and attachment between different branches of the family as that of Wittelsbach exhibited. The relations between King Ludwig and Duke Max were always most affectionate, and the brothers-in-law had many tastes and characteristics in common. Both were full of originality and energy, and both had a genuine love of art, the King having a great fondness for painting and poetry, while Max devoted himself principally to music. It was Ludwig the First who instituted the famous artist balls in Munich, which he and the Duke rarely failed to attend, and there was seldom a concert given at the Academy of Music where both royal and ducal families were not to be seen seated in the dress circle just behind the orchestra. However pressing the affairs of state, the King never failed to take part in the many religious festivals observed by the Church, and on All Saints’ Day he invariably made a visit to the cemetery accompanied by all his relatives.

While Ludwig was busy erecting his magnificent public edifices, Max employed himself building and rebuilding palaces. Possenhofen, where most of his children were born, was the favorite residence both of himself and his family, although they usually spent the Winters in Munich; and here, in the years 1833-1835 the celebrated architect, Leo von Klenze, built for them a magnificent residence in the Ludwigstrasse. Rank and state, however, by no means excluded simple kindliness and true hospitality from the splendid halls of the Duke and Duchess. They frequently gave large balls which were eagerly looked forward to by the younger set in the aristocratic world of Munich. Duke Max always stood by the door to welcome his guests on these occasions, offering each lady a bouquet of flowers with true knightly gallantry. Fountains plashed in the huge ballroom where inviting seats were placed here and there among groups of splendid foliage plants, while from behind a leafy screen floated the strains of an orchestra inviting to the dance. All chatted, laughed, and danced with perfect unconstraint, and the Duke was always the gayest of the gay, with the right word for every one.

During Lent the Duke and Duchess issued invitations for a series of concerts. Again the spacious rooms were turned into gardens. Comfortable chairs were arranged among masses of rose-bushes, and during pauses in the music refreshments were served and the guests promenaded about conversing gayly. It was never crowded, never too warm or too cool, in these splendid salons, and Duke Max’s entertainments were counted as the choicest pleasures of the Winter.

In the great courtyard of the palace he had a ring made where exhibitions of fancy riding were given before the ladies of the family and a few invited guests, Max himself often taking part. This became the favorite resort of his daughters in Winter, who would spend whole days there exercising, with their dogs and horses for companions, and it was here that Elizabeth of Austria and Maria Sophia of Naples acquired the skill that afterward made them the most perfect horsewomen of their day.

Properly to classify a plant it is necessary to study the soil that has nourished it. That from which the Wittelsbach sisters sprung was Bavarian, of course, but more accurately speaking, the region about Possenhofen and Starnberg Lake, whither the family repaired every year with the first signs of Spring. The shores of Starnberg are fringed with castles, among them the solitary Schloss Feldafing, whence King Ludwig the Second flung himself into the waters of the lake. Back of these are many small villages interspersed with villas built by artists from Munich. Between lie stretches of dark pine forest or clumps of lighter beeches, their branches drooping over the surface of the water, while as a background to this entrancing scene rise majestic mountain peaks. Possenhofen was known in the twelfth century as “Pozzo’s Hof.” In the fifteenth it was presented by the Palatine Friedrich von Scheyern-Wittelsbach to a neighboring convent, but later it came into the possession of the Elector Ferdinand Maria of Bavaria, a peace-loving prince, who made Starnberg Lake the scene of many splendid fêtes. In 1834 Duke Max bought the castle, had the outer wall and vaulted gateway torn down and the moat filled in, thus making room for the large gardens that now surround Possenhofen. Outwardly the building was allowed to retain its original form, but the interior was completely changed. Four-post bedsteads, huge antique stoves, and chests of olden days were replaced by modern furniture and conveniences. An additional wing or two made room for guests, and a chapel was built, connecting the ancient edifice with its newer parts. The castle courtyard and gardens are still surrounded by a high wall, extending along the shore of the lake, and this with the old towers forms the last link with those days when Pozzo’s Hof served not only as a residence for its noble masters, but also as a stronghold against the enemies of the prince and people. Inside the wall rises the huge pile of reddish yellow stone, its whole eastern side covered with a natural mantle of ivy, making an attractive picture against the fresh green of the park and the gardens, with their flower-beds and fountains.

Duke Max and his family may be said to have grown up with this beautiful spot. Here he brought his bride one bright summer morning; here they spent their happiest days together, far from the burdensome restrictions of court etiquette; here their children received their first impressions of life; and hither they always returned with a feeling of joy and comfort no other place could offer. The young princesses spent long days riding and swimming, training their dogs and horses, or clambering about on the mountain tops. It was this life in the open air that stamped them with so marked an individuality and gave them their love of freedom and simplicity. They were quite at home among the country folk and deeply resented any slight or injury to their mountain friends. In this, however, they merely followed the example set them by their parents. The beautiful home at Possenhofen had roots stretching far out into the countryside, and all who were in trouble hastened at once for help and comfort to Duchess Max, whose womanly sympathies were by no means confined to her own family circle.

Her handsome husband was even more popular, and his gay good nature and easy charm of manner made him adored by all. He was passionately fond of hunting, and spent whole days tramping about through the mountains alone with his gun. One evening after a long chase he arrived at a small tavern, tired and hungry, and his shabby old hunting clothes soiled and torn. No one recognizing him, he seated himself by the fire, took out his zither, and began to play. Some wood-cutters were so pleased with the stranger’s music that they offered to pay him if he would play a few peasant dances for them. Max cheerfully agreed, and played and sang till the whole room joined in the sport and coppers rained into the player’s hat. When the merrymaking was over the musician ordered a meal so little in keeping with his appearance that the landlady gazed at him in astonishment, convinced that he was a suspicious character who would probably attempt to leave without paying for his food, and determined to keep a watchful eye on him. As soon as he had eaten he began to play again, and the fun was at its height when a corporal entered and, recognizing the august guest, saluted him respectfully. It always annoyed the Duke to have his incognito betrayed, and flinging a gold piece on the table he hastily departed, to the great relief of the embarrassed assemblage.