DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62134#0170
162
AN ART-STUDENT IN MUNICH,
away past us, turning out of some gloomy, heavy-arched
court-yard, on its way to the scene of action; now marched
on a body of soldiers; whilst a gendarme galloped at full
speed through the echoing street.
As we entered the great thoroughfares of the city the
crowd increased. All the world was in the streets, or look-
ing out of their windows. Soldiers, summoned by the
trumpet-calls, went tramping on in dark compact masses;
officers were wildly hurrying to and fro; and high up into
the intensely blue sky rose the ruddy illumined towers of the
Frauen Kirche, from the belfry windows of which swung
cressets like brightly burning stars. From the St. Peter’s
Church, and from the other old churches of the city, swung
other cressets, the dread signal of fire; and from their bel-
fries bells were wildly tolled and horns blown.
Fire-fight glowed upon Spires and turrets, and upon the
steep snowy roofs of the quaint houses, tinting them with a
rosy blush, as if they were Alpine peaks at sunrise; and
down upon all smiled the broad calm moon, casting long
fantastic shadows across the snowy streets.
The fire was at a brewery, in one of the oldest parts of
Munich, in a little lane leading out of the Sendlinger
Strasse. I saw no fire-engines hurrying madly along, as
would have been the case in London. I saw, however,
heavy clumsy drays conveying water in large tuns, jolting
and jingling along, the lean horses urged on by shouting
men, who clustered round the tuns. The engines were
already on the spot, and these tuns were on their way to
supply them with water.
Now we are close to the scene of excitement. Soldiers
with glittering swords and bayonets are posted everywhere.
The fire is in the rear of the brewery; the malt-house is
burning; the flames have just burst through the roof. We
have found a capital standing-place within thewide court-yard
AN ART-STUDENT IN MUNICH,
away past us, turning out of some gloomy, heavy-arched
court-yard, on its way to the scene of action; now marched
on a body of soldiers; whilst a gendarme galloped at full
speed through the echoing street.
As we entered the great thoroughfares of the city the
crowd increased. All the world was in the streets, or look-
ing out of their windows. Soldiers, summoned by the
trumpet-calls, went tramping on in dark compact masses;
officers were wildly hurrying to and fro; and high up into
the intensely blue sky rose the ruddy illumined towers of the
Frauen Kirche, from the belfry windows of which swung
cressets like brightly burning stars. From the St. Peter’s
Church, and from the other old churches of the city, swung
other cressets, the dread signal of fire; and from their bel-
fries bells were wildly tolled and horns blown.
Fire-fight glowed upon Spires and turrets, and upon the
steep snowy roofs of the quaint houses, tinting them with a
rosy blush, as if they were Alpine peaks at sunrise; and
down upon all smiled the broad calm moon, casting long
fantastic shadows across the snowy streets.
The fire was at a brewery, in one of the oldest parts of
Munich, in a little lane leading out of the Sendlinger
Strasse. I saw no fire-engines hurrying madly along, as
would have been the case in London. I saw, however,
heavy clumsy drays conveying water in large tuns, jolting
and jingling along, the lean horses urged on by shouting
men, who clustered round the tuns. The engines were
already on the spot, and these tuns were on their way to
supply them with water.
Now we are close to the scene of excitement. Soldiers
with glittering swords and bayonets are posted everywhere.
The fire is in the rear of the brewery; the malt-house is
burning; the flames have just burst through the roof. We
have found a capital standing-place within thewide court-yard