Twenty years around the world

by John Guy Vassar

Having made zigzag routes in Switzerland in my former as well as present voyage, and having seen eighteen out of the twenty-two cantons comprising the Confederation, I was quite satisfied to depart for the head of the lake, on my way to Augsburgh and Munich. This latter city, with a population of one hundred thousand, is an interesting place, and contains more to interest a stranger than most of the German cities. It, too, has had a share of revolution; and the late king Louis, who has abdicated in favor of his son, and whose favorite, Lola Montez, created so much noise in the world, has fled to Switzerland. The king had a great passion for the fine arts, both painting and sculpture, and good taste in architecture; and the new part of the city is beautified with piles of immense edifices for the use of the state, and galleries of paintings, statuary, and antique collections. The contrast between the quaint, antique houses, of irregular construction, with high roofs and two tiers of windows in their main fronts, ornamented with scroll-work, and the modern style of buildings, is very great.

The new palace, copied after the Pitti Palace at Florence, is one of the most beautiful in Europe, with floors of various kinds of wood, inlaid in patterns which differ in all the rooms, and produce a sort of mosaic. The cornices, bas-reliefs in marble, fresco paintings, after the fashion of Pompeii and the Vatican at Rome, statuary in marble and bronze gilt, with the damask hangings and tapestry—the magnificence and apparent comfort of these things struck me very forcibly.

For one who has not seen other parts of Europe, some weeks could be employed advantageously in Munich. I have been here several days, and have had constant employment, first in visiting the gallery of sculpture, where I found a vast collection of Egyptian and Etruscan antiquities; those which were broken were well restored by Thorwaldsen. One room is devoted to Egyptian statuary, another to Etruscan, another to Ægina collections, and the decorations of each apartment are adapted to the contents, the floors of marble, and the ceilings in rich fresco and stucco patterns, with gilding. In the room appropriated to Egyptian statuary, I could almost fancy myself back among the ruins of Thebes, and the great temples of Karnak, so natural did everything appear.

The picture gallery is one of the finest buildings for paintings in Europe. The paintings are arranged in the schools of the different masters and countries, filling seven splendid halls, and twenty-three small cabinets. The finest and largest pictures of each school are placed in the centre halls, and the light is thrown down upon them from above; the others are lighted from the sides. The ceilings are in fresco and paintings, all of historical character. There are some one thousand five hundred paintings, selected from seven thousand of the different galleries in Bavaria; and altogether the collection reflects honor upon the late king, who has expended large sums of money from his private purse for the embellishment of his capital, which is now so beautiful, and which a century since was only a small German town. A heavy debt, however, has been created for the state, which, as in all other countries, the good people must pay, whether for honorable appropriations, or the follies and caprices of sovereigns.

Among the public monuments, is one now in process of construction, called the Genius of Bavaria; it is of cast bronze and of colossal size. It is the figure of a female with flowing ringlets, about fifty feet in height, mounted on a pedestal, with a crouching lion at her feet, all of solid bronze. The work is still going forward at the foundry in the suburbs of the city, and will require some time yet to finish it. It will surpass altogether the statue of San Carlo Boromeo, of beaten copper, upon Lago Maggiore, in Italy.

The population of Munich are mostly Catholics, and yesterday being Sunday, I visited the churches, which are not as remarkable, with some exceptions, as in Italy. There is one, the Basilica of St. Bonifacius, which is built in Roman style, after the plan of St. Paul’s, about three miles from Rome. It is of red brick, but the interior is beautifully decorated, and supported by sixty-four columns of marble in four rows; it is divided in four arches, with a nave seventy feet high, and fifty feet wide. The pave is of marble with painted ceiling of blue, and beams carved and gilded with a variety of frescoes.

My valet took me in the suburbs in the afternoon, and, as in all Catholic countries, the Sunday afternoon and evening are devoted to recreation, so here also. The gardens were full to overflowing, the tables were crowded with drinkers and smokers, and a full proportion of the fair sex with their peculiar costume, and head-dress called Riegel Haube, which is a small bag of gold or silver tissue, with two points like a swallow’s tail, and is worn on the back of the head to inclose the hair. It costs twelve or fifteen dollars, and it is the height of ambition of the peasant girl to indulge in it. Music was heard in all directions, and waltzes and dances kept up much later than I had a disposition to stay and gratify curiosity.

What a striking contrast between this and our own quiet Sabbaths at home! But such is the result of early education, and we must learn to exercise charity towards those who differ from us from the fact that they have been taught differently. Ever since the reformation of Luther, such is the strong tenacity of the people to Sunday recreations, that, in many parts of Germany, the dance and promenade in the evening succeed the morning services of the Protestant church.

I was at Augsburgh at the anniversary of the birthday of the Bishop, and was much amused at the immense collection of peasants who thronged the streets in costume, and filled the cathedral and vicinity; many of the women wore head-dresses not unlike those of Munich, but the greatest singularity about their dress was the peculiar mutton-legged sleeve, specimens of which may sometimes be seen on the arrival of emigrants in New York.

The town of Augsburg is old; it has a population of thirty thousand, and is quite a manufacturing place. Some fine bronze antique fountains, the Rathhaus, or town hall, the cannon foundry, and a fine collection of richly ornamented brass pieces, are the principal objects to be seen. The old hotel, which is well kept, dates under the sign of the Three Moors for five hundred years. The landlord brags of his old wines, and takes pleasure in showing his cellars. The old register book is a curiosity, with the names of Napoleon, Wellington, Sir Walter Scott, and a host of others, both kings and princes. In one of the rooms Napoleon received the Augsburg magistrates, and told them with sang-froid, that their city was free no longer, and that the king of Bavaria was now their sovereign. There are other incidents related of the house, and valued by the master. This reminds me of the Hotel Fedder where I stopped in Genoa, where they now show the gilded rooms of what was once a palace, where Daniel O’Connell died. Those who wish to make the pilgrimage will find good quarters, but must not be surprised if a small tribute is added to the bill.