DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62134#0167
WE REACH NYMPHENBURG.
159
attempt to reach Nymphcnburg; but this time we will
go. Drive on.”
“ Good,” mumbled the man. Away we jolted.
We jolted through villages, where there were gaunt
farm-houses covered with very queer frescoes, and where
quaint pumps and dovecotes adorned ghastly farm-yards ;
and where churches with very quaint towers, crowned with
little red domes, rose amid gaunt crosses; and at length
we entered a noble avenue of limes.
The leafless branches interlaced lovingly, forming over-
head an exquisite, rich tracery; and the stems and twigs
looked richly brown and ruddy amidst the snowy landscape.
There is a similar avenue also, skirting a frozen canal
which canal, in fact, divides the two avenues. At the end
of each avenue is seen a view of the Nymphcnburg Castle
in dim perspective. Huge blocks of ice, of the most
delicate tender blue and green, lay in chaotic confusion
upon the canal banks; the ice made a lovely foreground.
And across the expanse of snow the blue Alps shone ever
towards us—the streak of orange still resting behind them,
and a dark stretch of gloomy pine-forest extending across
the middle distance. A peasant-woman in a fur cap and
pink boddice and scarlet petticoat came towards us across
the snow. What a beautiful, peculiar little picture it
formed!
Along the avenue we jolt, till we find ourselves entering
a semicircle of the most singular aspect. It is a semicircle
of huge Dutch toy-houses—white houses with rows and
rows of ugly straight windows, with tall red roofs, and
dormer windows and clock-towers. The centre house
is higher than the rest; a double flight of steps leads
up to it; the windows are more ornamental. Soldiers
parade before the entrance. This is the palace itself; and
what can all the other houses be ? What a semicircular.
159
attempt to reach Nymphcnburg; but this time we will
go. Drive on.”
“ Good,” mumbled the man. Away we jolted.
We jolted through villages, where there were gaunt
farm-houses covered with very queer frescoes, and where
quaint pumps and dovecotes adorned ghastly farm-yards ;
and where churches with very quaint towers, crowned with
little red domes, rose amid gaunt crosses; and at length
we entered a noble avenue of limes.
The leafless branches interlaced lovingly, forming over-
head an exquisite, rich tracery; and the stems and twigs
looked richly brown and ruddy amidst the snowy landscape.
There is a similar avenue also, skirting a frozen canal
which canal, in fact, divides the two avenues. At the end
of each avenue is seen a view of the Nymphcnburg Castle
in dim perspective. Huge blocks of ice, of the most
delicate tender blue and green, lay in chaotic confusion
upon the canal banks; the ice made a lovely foreground.
And across the expanse of snow the blue Alps shone ever
towards us—the streak of orange still resting behind them,
and a dark stretch of gloomy pine-forest extending across
the middle distance. A peasant-woman in a fur cap and
pink boddice and scarlet petticoat came towards us across
the snow. What a beautiful, peculiar little picture it
formed!
Along the avenue we jolt, till we find ourselves entering
a semicircle of the most singular aspect. It is a semicircle
of huge Dutch toy-houses—white houses with rows and
rows of ugly straight windows, with tall red roofs, and
dormer windows and clock-towers. The centre house
is higher than the rest; a double flight of steps leads
up to it; the windows are more ornamental. Soldiers
parade before the entrance. This is the palace itself; and
what can all the other houses be ? What a semicircular.