MY DEAR FRIEND;
Behold me, now, in the capital of Bavaria: in a city remarkable for its bustle, compared with the other German cities which I have visited, and distinguished rather for the general creditable appearance of the houses and public buildings, than for any peculiar and commanding remains of antiquity. But ere I speak of the city, let me detain you for a few seconds only with an account of my journey thither; and of some few particulars which preceded my departure from Augsbourg.
It turned out as I predicted. "Ere the set of sun," ensuing my last despatch, I drove to the principal front of this large, comfortless, and dirty inn; and partook of a dinner, in the caffé, interrupted by the incessant vociferations of merchants and traders who had attended the market (it being market day when I arrived), and annoyed beyond measure by the countless swarms of flies, which chose to share my cutlet with me.
On taking a farewell look of Augsbourg, my eyes seemed to leave unwillingly those objects upon which I gazed. The Paintings, the Town Hall, the old monastery of Saints Ulric and Afra, all--as I turned round to catch a parting glance--seemed to have stronger claims than ever upon my attention, and to reproach me for the shortness of my visit. However, my fate was fixed--and I now only looked steadily forward to Munich; my imagination being warmed (you will say "inflamed") with the thoughts of the countless folios, in manuscript and in print--including block-books, unheard and undreamt of--which had been described to me as reposing upon the shelves of the Royal or PUBLIC LIBRARY. In consequence, Hans Burgmair, Albert Durer, and the Elder Holbein were perfectly forgotten--after we had reached the first stage, and changed horses at Merching. From Augsbourg to Munich is but a pleasant and easy drive of about forty-five English miles. The last stage, from Fürstenfelbruck to this place, is chiefly interesting; while the two tall brick towers of the cathedral church of Nôtre Dame keep constantly in view for the last seven or eight miles. A chaussée, bordered on each side by willows, poplars, and limes, brings you--in a tediously straight line of four or five miles--up to the very gates of MUNICH.
At first view, Munich looks like a modern city. The streets are tolerably spacious, the houses are architectural, and the different little squares, or places, are pleasant and commodious. It is a city of business and bustle. Externally, there is not much grandeur of appearance, even in the palaces or public buildings, but the interiors of many of these edifices are rich in the productions of ancient art;--whether of sculpture, of painting, of sainted relics, or of mechanical wonders. Every body just now is from home; and I learn that the bronzes of the Prince Royal--which are considered to be the finest in Europe--are both out of order and out of view. This gallant Prince loves also pictures and books: and, of the latter, those more especially which were printed by the Family of Aldus.
Upon the whole, there is something very anglicised in the appearance both of this city and of its inhabitants. Of the latter, I have reason to speak in a manner the most favourable:--as you shall hear by and by. But let me now discourse (which I must do very briefly) of inanimate objects--or works of art--before I come to touch upon human beings ... here in constant motion: and, as it should seem--alternately animated by hope and influenced by curiosity. The population of Munich is estimated at about 50,000. Of course, as before, I paid my first visit to the CATHEDRAL, or mother church of NÔTRE DAME, upon the towers of which I had fixed my eyes for a whole hour on the approach to the city. Both the nave and towers, which are of red brick, are frightful in the extreme; without ornament: without general design: without either meaning or expression of any kind. The towers cannot be less than 350 feet in height: but the tops are mere pepper-boxes. No part of this church, or cathedral, either within or without, can be older than the middle of the fifteenth century.[40]
The interior has really nothing deserving of particular description. But I check myself in an instant: It has something--eminently worthy of distinct notice and the most unqualified praise. It has a monument of the EMPEROR Louis IV. which was erected by his great-grandson Maximilian I. Duke of Bavaria, in 1603-12. The designer of this superb mausoleum was Candit: the figures are in black marble, the ornaments are in bronze; the latter executed by the famous Krummper, of Weilheim. I am ignorant of the name of the sculptor. This monument stands in the centre of the choir, of which it occupies a great portion. It is of a square form, having, at each corner, a soldier, of the size of life, bending on one knee and weeping: supporting, at the same time, a small flag between his body and arm. These soldiers are supposed to guard the ashes of the dead. Between them are three figures, of which two stand back to back. Between these two, somewhat more elevated, is raised the figure of the Emperor Louis IV.--dressed in his full imperial costume. But the two figures, just mentioned, are absolutely incomparable. One of them is Albert V. in armour, in his ducal attire:[41] the other is William V. habited in the order of the golden fleece. This habit consists of a simple broad heavy garment, up to the neck. The wearer holds a drawn sword in his right hand, which is turned a little to the right. This figure may be full six feet and a half high. The head is uncovered; and the breadth of the drapery, together with the erect position of the figure, and the extension of the sword, gives it one of the most commanding, and even appalling, airs imaginable. I stood before it, till I almost felt inclined to kneel and make obeisance. The entire monument is a noble and consummate specimen of art: and can hardly have any superior, of its kind, throughout Europe.
Perhaps I should add that the interior of this Church contains twenty-four large octagonal pillars, dividing the nave from the side aisles: and that around these latter and the choir, there are not fewer than twenty-four chapels, ornamented with the tombs of ancient families of distinction. This interior is about 350 English feet in length, by about 145 in width.
Of the other Churches, that of St. MICHAEL, attached to the late College of the Jesuits,--now forming the Public Academy or University, and containing the Public Library--is probably the most beautiful for its simplicity of ornament and breadth of parts. Indeed at this moment I can recollect nothing to be put in competition with it, as a comparatively modern edifice. This interior is, as to Roman architecture, what that of St. Ouen is as to Gothic: although the latter be of considerably greater extent. It is indeed the very charm of interior architecture: where all the parts, rendered visible by an equal distribution of light, meet the eye at the same time, and tell their own tale. The vaulted roof, full 300 English feet in length, has not a single column to support it. Pilasters of the Corinthian order run along each side of the interior, beneath slightly projecting galleries; which latter are again surmounted by rows of pilasters of the Doric order, terminating beneath the spring of the arched roof. The windows are below the galleries. Statues of prophets, apostles, and evangelists, grace the upper part of the choir--executed from the characteristic designs of Candit. The pulpit and the seats are beautifully carved. Opposite the former, are oratories sustained by columns of red marble; and the approach to the royal oratory is rendered more impressive by a flight of ten marble steps. The founder of this church was William V., who lies buried in a square vault below: near which is an altar, where they shew, on All Saints Day, the brass coffins containing the ashes of the Princes of Bavaria. The period of the completion of this church is quite at the end of the sixteenth century.[42] But ere I quit it, I must not fail to direct your attention to a bronze crucifix in the interior--which is in truth a masterpiece of art. My eye ran over the whole of this interior with increased delight at every survey; and while the ceremony of high mass was performing--and the censers emitted their clouds of frankincense--and the vocal and instrumental sounds of a large congregation pervaded every portion of the edifice--it was with reluctance (but from necessity) that I sought the outward door, to close it upon such a combination of attractions!
Of the nine or ten remaining churches, it will not be necessary to notice any other than that of St. CAETAN, built by the Electress Adelaide, and finished about the year 1670. It was built in the accomplishment of a vow. The pious and liberal Adelaide endowed it with all the relics of art, and all the treasures of wealth which she could accumulate. It is doubtless one of the most beautiful churches in Bavaria:--quite of the Italian school of art, and seems to be a St. Peter's at Rome in miniature. The architect was Agostino Barella, of Bologna. This church is in the form of a cross. In the centre is a cupola, sustained by pillars of the Corinthian order. The light comes down from the windows of this cupola in a very mellow manner; but there was, when I saw it, rather a want of light. The nave is vaulted: and the principal altar is beneath the dome, separating the nave from the choir. The façade, or west front, is a building of yesterday, as it were: namely, of 1767; but it is beautiful and striking. This church is considered to be the richest in Munich for its collection of pictures; but nothing that I saw there made me forget, for one moment, the Crucifixion by Hans Burgmair.[43] I should say that the interior of this church is equally distinguished for the justness of its proportions, the propriety of its ornaments, and the neatness of its condition. It is an honour to the city of Munich.