DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62134#0035
schwanthaler/’s castle of schwaneck.
27
Isar-bank, the river murmuring as it rolled lazily over its
sandy bottom., amid long, gravelly shoals. In front of ns
was the Alpine chain rising as though abruptly from the
wild precipitous river-bank opposite, and mingling its
jagged peaks with the silvery mountain-like clouds which
crowded the heavens.
We hungry pedestrians saw a vision remarkably attractive
upon the table before the bench on which we sat. Ham,
bread, butter, delicious butter, and wine, capital Rhine
wine, for my companionsj and for me, of course, eternal
coffee ! And thus most pleasantly refreshing ourselves in
sight of the Alps, the conversation naturally turned upon
Italy, seeing that one of the gentlemen was an Italian, and
Baron von H. had spent many years there. First Mariotti’s
new book was discussed •, Signor L. defending Silvio
Pcllico warmly for the sake of all he had suffered in his
youth. He spoke altogether so earnestly and eloquently
about his unhappy, beautiful land, with a cloud of real
grief ever and anon passing across his face, that I set him
down as a good, worthy fellow,—different to some disgusting,
dandified Italians I saw the other day, who made we almost
wish that an Austrian bullet would put an end to their
useless lives !
Pleasant and interesting as it was, sitting on this river’s
bank, listening to descriptions of laurel and orange groves,
and of noble suffering patriots, still it was necessary to
proceed to Schwaneck. We hade adieu, therefore, to this
hamlet or inn, whichever it be, of Heselohe, and once
more lost ourselves in the birch-wood. But first I might
mention, that being decidedly of an exploring turn, I had
dived into those booth-like summer-houses, and found to
my astonishment a number of old English caricatures
of the time of George IV., pasted upon the walls;
several of the summer-houses were papered with prints,
27
Isar-bank, the river murmuring as it rolled lazily over its
sandy bottom., amid long, gravelly shoals. In front of ns
was the Alpine chain rising as though abruptly from the
wild precipitous river-bank opposite, and mingling its
jagged peaks with the silvery mountain-like clouds which
crowded the heavens.
We hungry pedestrians saw a vision remarkably attractive
upon the table before the bench on which we sat. Ham,
bread, butter, delicious butter, and wine, capital Rhine
wine, for my companionsj and for me, of course, eternal
coffee ! And thus most pleasantly refreshing ourselves in
sight of the Alps, the conversation naturally turned upon
Italy, seeing that one of the gentlemen was an Italian, and
Baron von H. had spent many years there. First Mariotti’s
new book was discussed •, Signor L. defending Silvio
Pcllico warmly for the sake of all he had suffered in his
youth. He spoke altogether so earnestly and eloquently
about his unhappy, beautiful land, with a cloud of real
grief ever and anon passing across his face, that I set him
down as a good, worthy fellow,—different to some disgusting,
dandified Italians I saw the other day, who made we almost
wish that an Austrian bullet would put an end to their
useless lives !
Pleasant and interesting as it was, sitting on this river’s
bank, listening to descriptions of laurel and orange groves,
and of noble suffering patriots, still it was necessary to
proceed to Schwaneck. We hade adieu, therefore, to this
hamlet or inn, whichever it be, of Heselohe, and once
more lost ourselves in the birch-wood. But first I might
mention, that being decidedly of an exploring turn, I had
dived into those booth-like summer-houses, and found to
my astonishment a number of old English caricatures
of the time of George IV., pasted upon the walls;
several of the summer-houses were papered with prints,