DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62134#0038
30
AN ART-STUDENT TN MUNICH.
harmony with the solitary tower, the wild winds of winter,
and the moaning of the deep river below.
The interior of the little castle is as rude and unpretend-
ing as its exterior. With the exception of the figures of
two grim, armoured knights, placed one on either side,
above a little balcony which overhangs the river, there
are no traces here of Schwanthaler as the sculptor; but
every stone speaks of Schwanthaler as the lover of the
quaint and the mediaeval. Schwaneck is a development of
the little sanctum sanctorum in Schwanthaler’s house in
Munich, with its grotesque drinking cups and armour.
There are but four rooms in this little castle, and they are
small in size, and furnished in the most primitive manner;
there are no carpets, no easy-chairs, and but one sofa,
which looks as though covered with tapestry, though it is
not; it is coarse, heavy, and primitive. A few rudely carved
chairs, a few massive and rough tables, tall porcelain stoves
of olive-green, bearing upon them the heraldic swan,
armour, and chivalric trophies, and strange-looking sacred
pictures of the very early German school, and with
the rafters of the ceilings painted in vivid contrast of the
brightest colours;—such are the furniture and adornments
of Schwaneck.
The sleeping-room, or rather cell, of the great sculptor
contains a simple, oaken bedstead, covered with a red and
black quilt. Above the bed, a large and perfectly plain
gilt cross is let into the wall; a couple of rude, wooden
chairs, and an odd looking-glass, suspended above a much
odder table. This table is supported by a pedestal formed
of the crooked stem of some tree, which probably grew in
the neighbouring wood, its rough bark and moss still re-
maining upon it.
The banqueting-hall is at the top of the castle, so as to
command the view. It is the largest, and, by far, the
AN ART-STUDENT TN MUNICH.
harmony with the solitary tower, the wild winds of winter,
and the moaning of the deep river below.
The interior of the little castle is as rude and unpretend-
ing as its exterior. With the exception of the figures of
two grim, armoured knights, placed one on either side,
above a little balcony which overhangs the river, there
are no traces here of Schwanthaler as the sculptor; but
every stone speaks of Schwanthaler as the lover of the
quaint and the mediaeval. Schwaneck is a development of
the little sanctum sanctorum in Schwanthaler’s house in
Munich, with its grotesque drinking cups and armour.
There are but four rooms in this little castle, and they are
small in size, and furnished in the most primitive manner;
there are no carpets, no easy-chairs, and but one sofa,
which looks as though covered with tapestry, though it is
not; it is coarse, heavy, and primitive. A few rudely carved
chairs, a few massive and rough tables, tall porcelain stoves
of olive-green, bearing upon them the heraldic swan,
armour, and chivalric trophies, and strange-looking sacred
pictures of the very early German school, and with
the rafters of the ceilings painted in vivid contrast of the
brightest colours;—such are the furniture and adornments
of Schwaneck.
The sleeping-room, or rather cell, of the great sculptor
contains a simple, oaken bedstead, covered with a red and
black quilt. Above the bed, a large and perfectly plain
gilt cross is let into the wall; a couple of rude, wooden
chairs, and an odd looking-glass, suspended above a much
odder table. This table is supported by a pedestal formed
of the crooked stem of some tree, which probably grew in
the neighbouring wood, its rough bark and moss still re-
maining upon it.
The banqueting-hall is at the top of the castle, so as to
command the view. It is the largest, and, by far, the