On the 11th of October the sun came out, after a retirement of nearly
two weeks. The cause of the appearance was the close of the October
Fest. This great popular carnival has the same effect upon the weather
in Bavaria that the Yearly Meeting of Friends is known to produce in
Philadelphia, and the Great National Horse Fair in New England. It
always rains during the October Fest. Having found this out, I do not
know why they do not change the time of it; but I presume they are wise
enough to feel that it would be useless. A similar attempt on the part
of the Pennsylvania Quakers merely disturbed the operations of nature,
but did not save the drab bonnets from the annual wetting. There is a
subtle connection between such gatherings and the gathering of what
are called the elements,--a sympathetic connection, which we shall, no
doubt, one day understand, when we have collected facts enough on the
subject to make a comprehensive generalization, after Mr. Buckle's
method.
This fair, which is just concluded, is a true Folks-Fest, a season
especially for the Bavarian people, an agricultural fair and cattle
show, but a time of general jollity and amusement as well. Indeed, the
main object of a German fair seems to be to have a good time and in
this it is in marked contrast with American fairs. The October Fest was
instituted for the people by the old Ludwig I. on the occasion of his
marriage; and it has ever since retained its position as the great
festival of the Bavarian people, and particularly of the peasants. It
offers a rare opportunity to the stranger to study the costumes of the
peasants, and to see how they amuse themselves. One can judge a good
deal of the progress of a people by the sort of amusements that satisfy
them. I am not about to draw any philosophical inferences,--I am a mere
looker-on in Munich; but I have never anywhere else seen puppet-shows
afford so much delight, nor have I ever seen anybody get more
satisfaction out of a sausage and a mug of beer, with the tum-tum of a
band near, by, than a Bavarian peasant.
The Fest was held on the Theresien Wiese, a vast meadow on the outskirts
of the city. The ground rises on one side of this by an abrupt step,
some thirty or forty feet high, like the “bench” of a Western river.
This bank is terraced for seats the whole length, or as far down as the
statue of Bavaria; so that there are turf seats, I should judge, for
three quarters of a mile, for a great many thousands of people, who can
look down upon the race-course, the tents, houses, and booths of the
fair-ground, and upon the roof and spires of the city beyond. The statue
is, as you know, the famous bronze Bavaria of Schwanthaler, a colossal
female figure fifty feet high, and with its pedestal a hundred feet
high, which stands in front of the Hall of Fame, a Doric edifice, in the
open colonnades of which are displayed the busts of the most celebrated
Bavarians, together with those of a few poets and scholars who were so
unfortunate as not to be born here. The Bavaria stands with the
right hand upon the sheathed sword, and the left raised in the act of
bestowing a wreath of victory; and the lion of the kingdom is beside
her. This representative being is, of course, hollow. There is room for
eight people in her head, which I can testify is a warm place on a sunny
day; and one can peep out through loopholes and get a good view of the
Alps of the Tyrol. To say that this statue is graceful or altogether
successful would be an error; but it is rather impressive, from its
size, if for no other reason. In the cast of the hand exhibited at the
bronze foundry, the forefinger measures over three feet long.
Although the Fest did not officially begin until Friday, October 12,
yet the essential part of it, the amusements, was well under way on the
Sunday before. The town began to be filled with country people, and the
holiday might be said to have commenced; for the city gives itself up
to the occasion. The new art galleries are closed for some days; but
the collections and museums of various sorts are daily open, gratis; the
theaters redouble their efforts; the concert-halls are in full blast;
there are dances nightly, and masked balls in the Folks' Theater;
country relatives are entertained; the peasants go about the streets
in droves, in a simple and happy frame of mind, wholly unconscious that
they are the oddest-looking guys that have come down from the Middle
Ages; there is music in all the gardens, singing in the cafes, beer
flowing in rivers, and a mighty smell of cheese, that goes up to heaven.
If the eating of cheese were a religious act, and its odor an incense, I
could not say enough of the devoutness of the Bavarians.
Of the picturesqueness and oddity of the Bavarian peasants' costumes,
nothing but a picture can give you any idea. You can imagine the men in
tight breeches, buttoned below the knee, jackets of the jockey cut,
and both jacket and waistcoat covered with big metal buttons, sometimes
coins, as thickly as can be sewed on: but the women defy the pen; a
Bavarian peasant woman, in holiday dress, is the most fearfully and
wonderfully made object in the universe. She displays a good length of
striped stockings, and wears thin slippers, or sandals; her skirts are
like a hogshead in size and shape, and reach so near her shoulders as to
make her appear hump-backed; the sleeves are hugely swelled out at
the shoulder, and taper to the wrist; the bodice is a stiff and
most elaborately ornamented piece of armor; and there is a kind of
breastplate, or center-piece, of gold, silver, and precious stones,
or what passes for them; and the head is adorned with some monstrous
heirloom, of finely worked gold or silver, or a tower, gilded and
shining with long streamers, or bound in a simple black turban, with
flowing ends. Little old girls, dressed like their mothers, have the air
of creations of the fancy, who have walked out of a fairy-book. There
is an endless variety in these old costumes; and one sees, every moment,
one more preposterous than the preceding. The girls from the Tyrol, with
their bright neckerchiefs and pointed black felt hats, with gold cord
and tassels, are some of them very pretty: but one looks a long time
for a bright face among the other class; and, when it is discovered, the
owner appears like a maiden who was enchanted a hundred years ago, and
has not been released from the spell, but is still doomed to wear the
garments and the ornaments that should long ago have mouldered away with
her ancestors.
The Theresien Wiese was a city of Vanity Fair for two weeks, every
day crowded with a motley throng. Booths, and even structures of some
solidity, rose on it as if by magic. The lottery-houses were set up
early, and, to the last, attracted crowds, who could not resist the
tempting display of goods and trinkets, which might be won by investing
six kreuzers in a bit of paper, which might, when unrolled, contain a
number. These lotteries are all authorized: some of them were for the
benefit of the agricultural society; some were for the poor, and others
on individual account: and they always thrive; for the German, above
all others, loves to try his luck. There were streets of shanties, where
various things were offered for sale besides cheese and sausages. There
was a long line of booths, where images could be shot at with bird-guns;
and when the shots were successful, the images went through astonishing
revolutions. There was a circus, in front of which some of the spangled
performers always stood beating drums and posturing, in order to entice
in spectators. There were the puppet-booths, before which all day stood
gaping, delighted crowds, who roared with laughter whenever the little
frau beat her loutish husband about the head, and set him to tend the
baby, who continued to wail, notwithstanding the man knocked its head
against the doorpost. There were the great beer-restaurants, with
temporary benches and tables' planted about with evergreens, always
thronged with a noisy, jolly crowd. There were the fires, over which
fresh fish were broiling on sticks; and, if you lingered, you saw the
fish taken alive from tubs of water standing by, dressed and spitted and
broiling before the wiggle was out of their tails. There were the old
women, who mixed the flour and fried the brown cakes before your eyes,
or cooked the fragrant sausage, and offered it piping hot.
And every restaurant and show had its band, brass or string,--a full
array of red-faced fellows tooting through horns, or a sorry quartette,
the fat woman with the harp, the lean man blowing himself out through
the clarinet, the long-haired fellow with the flute, and the robust and
thick-necked fiddler. Everywhere there was music; the air was full
of the odor of cheese and cooking sausage; so that there was nothing
wanting to the most complete enjoyment. The crowd surged round, jammed
together, in the best possible humor. Those who could not sit at tables
sat on the ground, with a link of an eatable I have already named in
one hand, and a mug of beer beside them. Toward evening, the ground was
strewn with these gray quart mugs, which gave as perfect evidence of the
battle of the day as the cannon-balls on the sand before Fort Fisher
did of the contest there. Besides this, for the amusement of the crowd,
there is, every day, a wheelbarrow race, a sack race, a blindfold
contest, or something of the sort, which turns out to be a very flat
performance. But all the time the eating and the drinking go on, and the
clatter and clink of it fill the air; so that the great object of the
fair is not lost sight of.
Meantime, where is the agricultural fair and cattle-show? You must know
that we do these things differently in Bavaria. On the fair-ground,
there is very little to be seen of the fair. There is an inclosure where
steam-engines are smoking and puffing, and threshing-machines are making
a clamor; where some big church-bells hang, and where there are a few
stalls for horses and cattle. But the competing horses and cattle are
led before the judges elsewhere; the horses, for instance, by the royal
stables in the city. I saw no such general exhibition of do mestic
animals as you have at your fairs. The horses that took the prizes
were of native stock, a very serviceable breed, excellent for
carriage-horses, and admirable in the cavalry service. The bulls and
cows seemed also native and to the manor born, and were worthy of little
remark. The mechanical, vegetable, and fruit exhibition was in the
great glass palace, in the city, and was very creditable in the fruit
department, in the show of grapes and pears especially. The products of
the dairy were less, though I saw one that I do not recollect ever to
have seen in America, a landscape in butter. Inclosed in a case, it
looked very much like a wood-carving. There was a Swiss cottage, a
milkmaid, with cows in the foreground; there were trees, and in the rear
rose rocky precipices, with chamois in the act of skipping thereon. I
should think something might be done in our country in this line of the
fine arts; certainly, some of the butter that is always being sold so
cheap at St. Albans, when it is high everywhere else, must be strong
enough to warrant the attempt. As to the other departments of the fine
arts in the glass palace, I cannot give you a better idea of them than
by saying that they were as well filled as the like ones in the American
county fairs. There were machines for threshing, for straw-cutting, for
apple-paring, and generally such a display of implements as would give
one a favorable idea of Bavarian agriculture. There was an interesting
exhibition of live fish, great and small, of nearly every sort, I
should think, in Bavarian waters. The show in the fire-department was so
antiquated, that I was convinced that the people of Munich never intend
to have any fires.
The great day of the fete was Sunday, October 5 for on that day the king
went out to the fair-ground, and distributed the prizes to the owners of
the best horses, and, as they appeared to me, of the most ugly-colored
bulls. The city was literally crowded with peasants and country people;
the churches were full all the morning with devout masses, which poured
into the waiting beer-houses afterward with equal zeal. By twelve
o'clock, the city began to empty itself upon the Theresien meadow; and
long before the time for the king to arrive--two o'clock--there were
acres of people waiting for the performance to begin. The terraced bank,
of which I have spoken, was taken possession of early, and held by a
solid mass of people; while the fair-ground proper was packed with a
swaying concourse, densest near the royal pavilion, which was erected
immediately on the race-course, and opposite the bank.
At one o'clock the grand stand opposite to the royal one is taken
possession of by a regiment band and by invited guests. All the space,
except the race-course, is, by this time, packed with people, who
watch the red and white gate at the head of the course with growing
impatience. It opens to let in a regiment of infantry, which marches
in and takes position. It swings, every now and then, for a solitary
horseman, who gallops down the line in all the pride of mounted civic
dignity, to the disgust of the crowd; or to let in a carriage, with some
overdressed officer or splendid minister, who is entitled to a place in
the royal pavilion. It is a people' fete, and the civic officers enjoy
one day of conspicuous glory. Now a majestic person in gold lace is set
down; and now one in a scarlet coat, as beautiful as a flamingo. These
driblets of splendor only feed the popular impatience. Music is heard in
the distance, and a procession with colored banners is seen approaching
from the city. That, like everything else that is to come, stops beyond
the closed gate; and there it halts, ready to stream down before our
eyes in a variegated pageant. The time goes on; the crowd gets denser,
for there have been steady rivers of people pouring into the grounds for
more than an hour.
The military bands play in the long interval; the peasants jabber in
unintelligible dialects; the high functionaries on the royal stand are
good enough to move around, and let us see how brave and majestic they
are.
At last the firing of cannon announces the coming of royalty. There is
a commotion in the vast crowd yonder, the eagerly watched gates swing
wide, and a well-mounted company of cavalry dashes down the turf, in
uniforms of light blue and gold. It is a citizens' company of butchers
and bakers and candlestick-makers, which would do no discredit to the
regular army. Driving close after is a four-horse carriage with two of
the king's ministers; and then, at a rapid pace, six coal-black horses
in silver harness, with mounted postilions, drawing a long, slender,
open carriage with one seat, in which ride the king and his brother,
Prince Otto, come down the way, and are pulled up in front of the
pavilion; while the cannon roars, the big bells ring, all the flags
of Bavaria, Prussia, and Austria, on innumerable poles, are blowing
straight out, the band plays “God save the King,” the people break into
enthusiastic shouting, and the young king, throwing off his cloak, rises
and stands in his carriage for a moment, bowing right and left before
he descends. He wears to-day the simple uniform of the citizens' company
which has escorted him, and is consequently more plainly and neatly
dressed than any one else on the platform,--a tall (say six feet),
slender, gallant-looking young fellow of three and twenty, with an open
face and a graceful manner.
But, when he has arrived, things again come to a stand; and we wait for
an hour, and watch the thickening of the clouds, while the king goes
from this to that delighted dignitary on the stand and converses. At
the end of this time, there is a movement. A white dog has got into
the course, and runs up and down between the walls of people in terror,
headed off by soldiers at either side of the grand stand, and finally,
becoming desperate, he makes a dive for the royal pavilion. The
consternation is extreme. The people cheer the dog and laugh: a
white-handed official, in gold lace, and without his hat, rushes out to
“shoo” the dog away, but is unsuccessful; for the animal dashes between
his legs, and approaches the royal and carpeted steps. More men of
rank run at him, and he is finally captured and borne away; and we all
breathe freer that the danger to royalty is averted. At one o'clock six
youths in white jackets, with clubs and coils of rope, had stationed
themselves by the pavilion, but they did not go into action at this
juncture; and I thought they rather enjoyed the activity of the great
men who kept off the dog.
At length there was another stir; and the king descended from the rear
of his pavilion, attended by his ministers, and moved about among the
people, who made way for him, and uncovered at his approach. He spoke
with one and another, and strolled about as his fancy took him. I
suppose this is called mingling with the common people. After he had
mingled about fifteen minutes, he returned, and took his place on the
steps in front of the pavilion; and the distribution of prizes began.
First the horses were led out; and their owners, approaching the king,
received from his hands the diplomas, and a flag from an attendant.
Most of them were peasants; and they exhibited no servility in receiving
their marks of distinction, but bowed to the king as they would to any
other man, and his majesty touched his cocked hat in return. Then came
the prize-cattle, many of them led by women, who are as interested as
their husbands in all farm matters. Everything goes off smoothly, except
there is a momentary panic over a fractious bull, who plunges into
the crowd; but the six white jackets are about him in an instant, and
entangle him with their ropes.
This over, the gates again open, and the gay cavalcade that has been so
long in sight approaches. First a band of musicians in costumes of the
Middle Ages; and then a band of pages in the gayest apparel, bearing
pictured banners and flags of all colors, whose silken luster would have
been gorgeous in sunshine; these were followed by mounted heralds with
trumpets, and after them were led the running horses entered for
the race. The banners go up on the royal stand, and group themselves
picturesquely; the heralds disappear at the other end of the list;
and almost immediately the horses, ridden by young jockeys in stunning
colors, come flying past in a general scramble. There are a dozen or
more horses; but, after the first round, the race lies between two.
The course is considerably over an English mile, and they make four
circuits; so that the race is fully six-miles,--a very hard one. It was
a run in a rain, however, which began when it did, and soon forced up
the umbrellas. The vast crowd disappeared under a shed of umbrellas, of
all colors,--black, green, red, blue; and the effect was very singular,
especially when it moved from the field: there was then a Niagara of
umbrellas. The race was soon over: it is only a peasants' race, after
all; the aristocratic races of the best horses take place in May. It was
over. The king's carriage was brought round, the people again shouted,
the cannon roared, the six black horses reared and plunged, and away he
went.
After all, says the artist, “the King of Bavaria has not much power.”
“You can see,” returns a gentleman who speaks English, “just how much he
has: it is a six-horse power.”
On other days there was horse-trotting, music production, and for
several days prize-shooting. The latter was admirably conducted: the
targets were placed at the foot of the bank; and opposite, I should
think not more than two hundred yards off, were shooting-houses, each
with a room for the register of the shots, and on each side of him
closets where the shooters stand. Signal-wires run from these houses
to the targets, where there are attendants who telegraph the effect
of every shot. Each competitor has a little book; and he shoots at any
booth he pleases, or at all, and has his shots registered. There was
a continual fusillade for a couple of days; but what it all came to,
I cannot tell. I can only say, that, if they shoot as steadily as they
drink beer, there is no other corps of shooters that can stand before
them.