DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62133#0131
THE OCTOBER “ VOLKS-FEST.” 115
And it rains to-day more incessantly and violently even
than yesterday ! It is precisely like the commencement of
a second deluge ; as though the idol-worshipping Bavarians
were to be swept away from the face of the earth.. Spite of
the rains all kind of rumours are flying about. But the
gloom of evening is come down, and the colossus is still
awaiting her grand inauguration. There is something very
fine to my imagination in the idea of that sublime, com-
pleted figure, night and day awaiting, amid the solitude of
the plain and the desolation of the stormy autumn, the
grand day of her honour; she so awfully calm and unmoved
by all the anxiety, royal anxiety, peopled anxiety, surging
around her; as calm and unmoved by earthly care, by
earthly glory, as the spirit of her creator—as Schw an-
thaler’s spirit now is ! One might almost fancy that nature
mourned in these clouds and rain over the absence of
Schwanthaler and his friend Lazarini—his “ right hand,” as
he called him—who like him sleeps the long sleep of death.
Sunday.—Whatever may be done about the Bavaria
festival, the People’s festival began, as it has done for many
a long year, spite of weather or anything else, on this first
Sunday in October. At 12 o’clock, therefore, all Munich
was in motion,—citizens and peasants all armed with
umbrellas of various hues, from scarlet to the colour of the
most faded and decaying of autumnal leaves, from olive-
green and ultramarine blue to buff1 and indigoj while the
streets and roads were thronged with peasants’ carts and
vehicles of every description.
When we reached the outskirts of the town, we beheld a
large wagon decked out with flags and vegetables ! The
sides a mosaic of cabbages, turnips, beet-roots, carrots—a
market-gardener’s triumphal car. Tall, tapering, crimson
beet-roots, formed elegant pinnacles at each corner, vhile
cabbage-leaves, artichokes, and cauliflowers, were converted
into the quaintest ornaments. It was like something in a
And it rains to-day more incessantly and violently even
than yesterday ! It is precisely like the commencement of
a second deluge ; as though the idol-worshipping Bavarians
were to be swept away from the face of the earth.. Spite of
the rains all kind of rumours are flying about. But the
gloom of evening is come down, and the colossus is still
awaiting her grand inauguration. There is something very
fine to my imagination in the idea of that sublime, com-
pleted figure, night and day awaiting, amid the solitude of
the plain and the desolation of the stormy autumn, the
grand day of her honour; she so awfully calm and unmoved
by all the anxiety, royal anxiety, peopled anxiety, surging
around her; as calm and unmoved by earthly care, by
earthly glory, as the spirit of her creator—as Schw an-
thaler’s spirit now is ! One might almost fancy that nature
mourned in these clouds and rain over the absence of
Schwanthaler and his friend Lazarini—his “ right hand,” as
he called him—who like him sleeps the long sleep of death.
Sunday.—Whatever may be done about the Bavaria
festival, the People’s festival began, as it has done for many
a long year, spite of weather or anything else, on this first
Sunday in October. At 12 o’clock, therefore, all Munich
was in motion,—citizens and peasants all armed with
umbrellas of various hues, from scarlet to the colour of the
most faded and decaying of autumnal leaves, from olive-
green and ultramarine blue to buff1 and indigoj while the
streets and roads were thronged with peasants’ carts and
vehicles of every description.
When we reached the outskirts of the town, we beheld a
large wagon decked out with flags and vegetables ! The
sides a mosaic of cabbages, turnips, beet-roots, carrots—a
market-gardener’s triumphal car. Tall, tapering, crimson
beet-roots, formed elegant pinnacles at each corner, vhile
cabbage-leaves, artichokes, and cauliflowers, were converted
into the quaintest ornaments. It was like something in a