This morning I was awakened early by the strains of a military band. It
was a clear, sparkling morning, the air full of life, and yet the sun
showing its warm, southern side. As the mounted musicians went by, the
square was quite filled with the clang of drum and trumpet, which became
fainter and fainter, and at length was lost on the ear beyond the Isar,
but preserved the perfection of time and the precision of execution for
which the military bands of the city are remarkable. After the band came
a brave array of officers in bright uniform, upon horses that pranced
and curveted in the sunshine; and the regiment of cavalry followed, rank
on rank of splendidly mounted men, who ride as if born to the saddle.
The clatter of hoofs on the pavement, the jangle of bit and saber,
the occasional word of command, the onward sweep of the well-trained
cavalcade, continued for a long time, as if the lovely morning had
brought all the cavalry in the city out of barracks. But this is an
almost daily sight in Munich. One regiment after another goes over the
river to the drill-ground. In the hot mornings I used quite to pity
the troopers who rode away in the glare in scorching brazen helmets and
breastplates. But only a portion of the regiments dress in that absurd
manner. The most wear a simple uniform, and look very soldierly. The
horses are almost invariably fine animals, and I have not seen such
riders in Europe. Indeed, everybody in Munich who rides at all rides
well. Either most of the horsemen have served in the cavalry, or
horsemanship, that noble art “to witch the world,” is in high repute
here.
Speaking of soldiers, Munich is full of them. There are huge caserns
in every part of the city, crowded with troops. This little kingdom of
Bavaria has a hundred and twenty thousand troops of the line. Every man
is obliged to serve in the army continuously three years; and every man
between the ages of twenty-one and forty-five must go with his regiment
into camp or barrack several weeks in each year, no matter if the
harvest rots in the field, or the customers desert the uncared-for shop.
The service takes three of the best years of a young man's life. Most of
the soldiers in Munich are young one meets hundreds of mere boys in the
uniform of officers. I think every seventh man you meet is a soldier.
There must be between fifteen and twenty thousand troops quartered in
the city now. The young officers are everywhere, lounging in the
cafes, smoking and sipping coffee, on all the public promenades, in the
gardens, the theaters, the churches. And most of them are fine-looking
fellows, good figures in elegantly fitting and tasteful uniforms; but
they do like to show their handsome forms and hear their sword-scabbards
rattle on the pavement as they stride by. The beer-gardens are full of
the common soldiers, who empty no end of quart mugs in alternate pulls
from the same earthen jug, with the utmost jollity and good fellowship.
On the street, salutes between officers and men are perpetual,
punctiliously given and returned,--the hand raised to the temple, and
held there for a second. A young gallant, lounging down the Theatiner or
the Maximilian Strasse, in his shining and snug uniform, white kids, and
polished boots, with jangling spurs and the long sword clanking on the
walk, raising his hand ever and anon in condescending salute to a lower
in rank, or with affable grace to an equal, is a sight worth beholding,
and for which one cannot be too grateful. We have not all been created
with the natural shape for soldiers, but we have eyes given us that we
may behold them.
Bavaria fought, you know, on the wrong side at Sadowa; but the result of
the war left her in confederation with Prussia. The company is getting
to be very distasteful, for Austria is at present more liberal than
Prussia. Under Prussia one must either be a soldier or a slave, the
democrats of Munich say. Bavaria has the most liberal constitution in
Germany, except that of Wurtemberg, and the people are jealous of any
curtailment of liberty. It seems odd that anybody should look to the
house of Hapsburg for liberality. The attitude of Prussia compels all
the little states to keep up armies, which eat up their substance, and
burden the people with taxes. This is the more to be regretted now,
when Bavaria is undergoing a peaceful revolution, and throwing off the
trammels of galling customs in other respects.