The people of Munich are not only a well-dressed and well-looking, but a social, kind-hearted race. The number of unions, or societies, instituted for benevolent or festive purposes, is, for the size of the place, almost incredible.[ 18] I had a catalogue of more than forty given to me this morning; they are for all ranks and professions, and there is scarcely a person in the city who is not enlisted into one or more of these communities. Some have reading-rooms, and well-furnished libraries, to which strangers are at once introduced, gratis; they give balls and concerts during the winter, which not only include their own members and their friends, but one society will sometimes invite and entertain another.
The young artists of Munich, who constitute a numerous body, formed themselves into an association, and gave very elegant balls and concerts, at first among themselves and their immediate friends and connexions; but the circle increased—these balls became more and more splendid—even the king and the royal family frequently honoured them with their presence. It became a point of honour to exceed in elegance and profusion all the entertainments given by the other societies of Munich. Every body danced, praised, and enjoyed themselves. At length it occurred to some of the most considerate and kind-hearted of the people, that these young men were going beyond their means to entertain their friends and fellow-citizens. It had evidently become a matter of great expense, and perhaps ostentation, and they resolved to put down this competition at once. An association was formed of persons of all classes, and they gave a fête to the painters of Munich, which eclipsed in magnificence every thing of the kind before or since. It was a ball and supper, on the most ample and splendid scale, and took place at the Odeon. Each lady's ticket contained the name of the cavalier, to whose especial protection and gallantry she was consigned for the evening; and so much tacte was shown in this arrangement, that I am told very few were discontented with their lot. Nearly three thousand persons were present, and it was the month of February; yet every lady on entering the room was presented by her cavalier with a bouquet of hot-house flowers; and the Salle de l'Odeon was adorned with a profusion of plants and flowering shrubs, collected from all the conservatories, private and public, within twenty miles of the capital. The king, the queen, their family and suite, and many of the principal nobles were invited, with, of course, a large portion of the gentry and trades-people of Munich; but, notwithstanding the miscellaneous nature of the assemblage, and the immense number of persons present, all was harmony, and good-breeding, and gaiety. This fête produced the desired result; the young painters took the hint, and though they still give balls, which are exceedingly pleasant, they are on a more modest scale than heretofore.
The Liederkranz (literally, the circle, or garland of song) is a society of musicians—amateurs and professors—who give concerts here, at which the compositions of the members are occasionally performed. One of these concerts (Fest-Production) took place this evening at the Odeon; and having duly received, as a stranger, my ticket of invitation, I went early with a very pleasant party.
The immense room was crowded in every part, and presented a most brilliant spectacle, from the number of military costumes, and the glittering head-dresses of the Munich girls. Our hosts formed the orchestra. The king and queen had been invited, and had signified their gracious intention of being present. The first row of seats was assigned to them; but no other distinction was made between the royal family and the rest of the company.
The king is generally punctual on these occasions, but from some accident he was this evening delayed, and we had to wait his arrival about ten minutes; the company were all assembled—servants were already parading up and down the room with trays, heaped with ices and refreshments—the orchestra stood up, with fiddle-sticks suspended; the chorus, with mouths half open—and the conductor, Stuntz, brandished his roll of music. At length a side door was thrown open: a voice announced "the king;" the trumpets sounded a salute; and all the people rose and remained standing until the royal guests were seated. The king entered first, the queen hanging on his arm. The duke Bernard of Saxe-Weimar, and his duchess,[ 19] followed; then the princess Matilda, leading her younger brother and sister, prince Luitpold and the princess Adelgonde;—the former a fine boy of about twelve years old, the latter a pretty little girl of about seven or eight: a single lady of honour; the baron de Freyberg, as principal equerry; the minister von Schencke, and one or two other officers of the household were in attendance. The king bowed to the gentlemen in the orchestra, then to the company, and in a few moments all were seated.
The music was entirely vocal, consisting of concerted pieces only, for three or more voices, and all were executed in perfection. I observed several little boys and young girls, of twelve or fourteen, singing in the chorusses, apparently much to their own satisfaction—certainly to ours. Their voices were delicious, and perfectly well managed, and their merry laughing faces were equally pleasant to look upon.
We had first a grand loyal anthem, composed for the occasion by Lenz, in which the king and queen, and their children, were separately apostrophized. Prince Maximilian, now upon his travels, and young king Otto, "far off upon the throne of Hellas," were not forgotten; and as the princess Matilda has lately been verlobt (betrothed) to the hereditary prince of Hesse-Darmstadt, they put the Futur into a couplet, with great effect. It seems that this marriage has been for some time in negociation; its course did not "run quite smooth," and the heart of the young princess is supposed to be more deeply interested in the affair than is usual in royal alliances. She is also very generally beloved, so that when the chorus sang,
"Hoch lebe Ludwig und Mathilde!
Ein Herz stets Brautigam und Braut!"