Life at Munich and Possenhofen
Up to the end of the first half of the last century intellectual and
artistic development had made little progress in Bavaria. Weimar had
become famous as the home of Goethe and Schiller, Herder and Wieland,
but Munich was still merely a provincial town, not so large by half as
it is to-day, while the many gardens scattered about among the houses
gave it an almost rustic air. The population consisted chiefly of
artisans, with a few wealthy citizens, the students of the university,
and court _attachés_. Visitors to the capital at that time were few. Of
social life, so called, there was practically none, and the free
mingling of all classes in public places suggested Italian popular life,
especially after King Ludwig’s plans for beautifying the city had begun
to attract thither artists of all countries and ages.
With the kings of Bavaria, however, a new order of things was
instituted. Ludwig the First, who succeeded Maximilian, was far ahead of
most German princes of his time in learning and culture. In early youth
he had made himself conspicuous by his hatred of Napoleon, although the
conqueror had been his father’s friend and ally. At the Congress of
Vienna, Talleyrand had called him a clever madman, and he had been
laughed at for his intense enthusiasm over everything pertaining to
Germanism. His frequent sojourns in Rome were destined to be of the
greatest importance to the art life of Germany, for, on ascending the
throne, he swore to make his capital a city of such prominence that “no
one should know Germany who had not seen Munich”; and to his honor be it
said that he not only kept this vow, but did so with comparatively small
means at his command. Thanks to his zeal and energy the finances of the
country were soon in excellent condition. Most economical as to his own
personal expenses, he devoted large sums to the purchase of rare
treasures for the art collections he had planned for his capital, and
employed a number of distinguished artists and architects to beautify
the city, which now possesses many imperishable reminders of this
art-loving sovereign.
Few royal houses of the present day can furnish examples of such harmony
and attachment between different branches of the family as that of
Wittelsbach exhibited. The relations between King Ludwig and Duke Max
were always most affectionate, and the brothers-in-law had many tastes
and characteristics in common. Both were full of originality and energy,
and both had a genuine love of art, the King having a great fondness for
painting and poetry, while Max devoted himself principally to music. It
was Ludwig the First who instituted the famous artist balls in Munich,
which he and the Duke rarely failed to attend, and there was seldom a
concert given at the Academy of Music where both royal and ducal
families were not to be seen seated in the dress circle just behind the
orchestra. However pressing the affairs of state, the King never failed
to take part in the many religious festivals observed by the Church, and
on All Saints’ Day he invariably made a visit to the cemetery
accompanied by all his relatives.
While Ludwig was busy erecting his magnificent public edifices, Max
employed himself building and rebuilding palaces. Possenhofen, where
most of his children were born, was the favorite residence both of
himself and his family, although they usually spent the Winters in
Munich; and here, in the years 1833-1835 the celebrated architect, Leo
von Klenze, built for them a magnificent residence in the Ludwigstrasse.
Rank and state, however, by no means excluded simple kindliness and true
hospitality from the splendid halls of the Duke and Duchess. They
frequently gave large balls which were eagerly looked forward to by the
younger set in the aristocratic world of Munich. Duke Max always stood
by the door to welcome his guests on these occasions, offering each lady
a bouquet of flowers with true knightly gallantry. Fountains plashed in
the huge ballroom where inviting seats were placed here and there among
groups of splendid foliage plants, while from behind a leafy screen
floated the strains of an orchestra inviting to the dance. All chatted,
laughed, and danced with perfect unconstraint, and the Duke was always
the gayest of the gay, with the right word for every one.
During Lent the Duke and Duchess issued invitations for a series of
concerts. Again the spacious rooms were turned into gardens. Comfortable
chairs were arranged among masses of rose-bushes, and during pauses in
the music refreshments were served and the guests promenaded about
conversing gayly. It was never crowded, never too warm or too cool, in
these splendid salons, and Duke Max’s entertainments were counted as the
choicest pleasures of the Winter.
In the great courtyard of the palace he had a ring made where
exhibitions of fancy riding were given before the ladies of the family
and a few invited guests, Max himself often taking part. This became the
favorite resort of his daughters in Winter, who would spend whole days
there exercising, with their dogs and horses for companions, and it was
here that Elizabeth of Austria and Maria Sophia of Naples acquired the
skill that afterward made them the most perfect horsewomen of their day.
Properly to classify a plant it is necessary to study the soil that has
nourished it. That from which the Wittelsbach sisters sprung was
Bavarian, of course, but more accurately speaking, the region about
Possenhofen and Starnberg Lake, whither the family repaired every year
with the first signs of Spring. The shores of Starnberg are fringed with
castles, among them the solitary Schloss Feldafing, whence King Ludwig
the Second flung himself into the waters of the lake. Back of these are
many small villages interspersed with villas built by artists from
Munich. Between lie stretches of dark pine forest or clumps of lighter
beeches, their branches drooping over the surface of the water, while as
a background to this entrancing scene rise majestic mountain peaks.
Possenhofen was known in the twelfth century as “Pozzo’s Hof.” In the
fifteenth it was presented by the Palatine Friedrich von
Scheyern-Wittelsbach to a neighboring convent, but later it came into
the possession of the Elector Ferdinand Maria of Bavaria, a peace-loving
prince, who made Starnberg Lake the scene of many splendid _fêtes_. In
1834 Duke Max bought the castle, had the outer wall and vaulted gateway
torn down and the moat filled in, thus making room for the large gardens
that now surround Possenhofen. Outwardly the building was allowed to
retain its original form, but the interior was completely changed.
Four-post bedsteads, huge antique stoves, and chests of olden days were
replaced by modern furniture and conveniences. An additional wing or two
made room for guests, and a chapel was built, connecting the ancient
edifice with its newer parts. The castle courtyard and gardens are still
surrounded by a high wall, extending along the shore of the lake, and
this with the old towers forms the last link with those days when
Pozzo’s Hof served not only as a residence for its noble masters, but
also as a stronghold against the enemies of the prince and people.
Inside the wall rises the huge pile of reddish yellow stone, its whole
eastern side covered with a natural mantle of ivy, making an attractive
picture against the fresh green of the park and the gardens, with their
flower-beds and fountains.
Duke Max and his family may be said to have grown up with this beautiful
spot. Here he brought his bride one bright summer morning; here they
spent their happiest days together, far from the burdensome restrictions
of court etiquette; here their children received their first impressions
of life; and hither they always returned with a feeling of joy and
comfort no other place could offer. The young princesses spent long days
riding and swimming, training their dogs and horses, or clambering about
on the mountain tops. It was this life in the open air that stamped them
with so marked an individuality and gave them their love of freedom and
simplicity. They were quite at home among the country folk and deeply
resented any slight or injury to their mountain friends. In this,
however, they merely followed the example set them by their parents. The
beautiful home at Possenhofen had roots stretching far out into the
countryside, and all who were in trouble hastened at once for help and
comfort to Duchess Max, whose womanly sympathies were by no means
confined to her own family circle.
Her handsome husband was even more popular, and his gay good nature and
easy charm of manner made him adored by all. He was passionately fond of
hunting, and spent whole days tramping about through the mountains alone
with his gun. One evening after a long chase he arrived at a small
tavern, tired and hungry, and his shabby old hunting clothes soiled and
torn. No one recognizing him, he seated himself by the fire, took out
his zither, and began to play. Some wood-cutters were so pleased with
the stranger’s music that they offered to pay him if he would play a few
peasant dances for them. Max cheerfully agreed, and played and sang till
the whole room joined in the sport and coppers rained into the player’s
hat. When the merrymaking was over the musician ordered a meal so little
in keeping with his appearance that the landlady gazed at him in
astonishment, convinced that he was a suspicious character who would
probably attempt to leave without paying for his food, and determined to
keep a watchful eye on him. As soon as he had eaten he began to play
again, and the fun was at its height when a corporal entered and,
recognizing the august guest, saluted him respectfully. It always
annoyed the Duke to have his incognito betrayed, and flinging a gold
piece on the table he hastily departed, to the great relief of the
embarrassed assemblage.