One day, when visiting him on the Roseninsel, she appeared in a costume which was evidently calculated to show her outward charms in the most advantageous light. Her efforts were wasted; the King’s near-sighted eyes did not even appear to see what she was like. His Master of the Horse who accompanied her, however, understood her intentions. The next time she was received at the Palace in Munich, which had been recently restored. The King complied with his visitor’s wish to see his private apartments. When they entered his bed-chamber the actress made a tender attack upon his person. Ludwig freed himself from her embrace, rang the bell for a servant, and called out: “Frau von Bulyowska desires her carriage!”
She was not invited by him again. Another actress lost his favour because, on a first visit to one of his palaces, she was looking so attentively at his paintings that she did not hear him enter the room, and consequently neglected to curtsey with deference.
Mathilde Mallinger, the singer, was, on account of her magnificent voice, for a short time the recipient of his favours; but her ignorance of the forms of the great world soon repelled him. When one day she asked for an audience, his Majesty answered that he “only knew a court singer, Mathilde Mallinger, but no lady of that name; and therefore was unable to grant her an audience.”
No artiste was for so long a time or so high in his favour as Josephine Schefzky, one of the chief Wagner singers of her day. She was the daughter of a court official, and it was to members of the house of Wittelsbach that she owed the means for her artistic education. Already before her appearance Ludwig interested himself in this future star within the realms of song. Her studies completed, she was engaged by the Royal Opera of Munich; and after some years was appointed court singer. The King was usually present at the opera when she appeared, and she had often, moreover, the honour of singing privately before him, both in his capital and when he was living at one or other of his pleasure palaces. He had caused to be arranged in the Throne Room building of the Residenz a winter garden, to which he had direct access from his private apartments. Besides magnificent groups of exotics, the garden contained a grotto, with a little cascade, and a pool deep and broad enough for him to row on in a boat, the latter being formed like a swan. Dressed as Lohengrin he lived here in the world of fancy, for a few moments forgetting everything that oppressed his mind.
His favourite singers sang fragments of Wagner’s operas to him from behind groups of palms. Here Josephine Schefzky sang often. He permitted her to sail with him in his golden boat, and when one day she had sung the love-song from Tristan und Isolde, he suddenly struck up the air from Rigoletto: “La donna è mobile.” This artiste, too, was vain enough to believe that he was in love with her. Many of the inhabitants of Munich expressed in fairly explicit terms their belief that a liaison existed between them. In reality, however, he was only her protector, who enjoyed her magnificent singing. So high a place in his esteem as that she was credited with, it may fairly be asserted was never hers. To his daily entourage he was in the habit of announcing her visits in the following words: “To-day the goose Schefzky shall come and sing again.” One night she sang to him on the artificial lake in the winter garden. The boat was small. An incautious movement on her part caused it to careen. The King scrambled out of the pool with ease, though wet through. “Pull her out of the water,” he called to a lacquey, as he disappeared rapidly into his own apartments.
Despite this occurrence, Josephine Schefzky continued to be in his favour, and was singled out for this by his Majesty more often than any other artiste. At his country residences she was received and entertained almost like a royal guest. Ludwig directed that some especially delectable viand or wine, from his kitchens or cellar, should go back with her every time she returned to Munich from Hohenschwangau or Berg. The servants, who saw that their master esteemed her, were at great trouble to curry favour with her in their own behalf. The royal carriage which took her away was invariably stuffed with hams, delicate sausages and patés, with champagne and Rhine wine, so that people at the railway station might have supposed that the departing lady was about to journey to a place where there was a famine. On one occasion the royal carriage even broke down under the weight of the gifts.
Josephine Schefzky was permitted to give the King presents on his birthday. He received them with evident pleasure, but only on the condition that the sum she had expended on them should be refunded to her out of the privy purse. On an occasion of the kind she had asked to be allowed the honour of giving him a tablecloth. The permission was granted. Ludwig expressed in appreciative words his admiration of the singer’s good taste, and sent her an amiable letter of thanks. There had been at this time a change in the personnel administering the privy purse. At the head of it there was now a near relative of the shopkeeper where Fräulein Schefzky had purchased her tablecloth; he had by chance heard how much she had paid for it. The lady made her appearance some days later, and demanded a larger sum than the gift had cost her. The official greatly wished his master to become aware of her avarice, and after some circumlocution informed Ludwig how the artiste had enriched herself by means of his present. Generous as he was the King would probably have forgiven the deception, but he was angered when he heard that Fräulein Schefzky was in the habit of asking for money from the privy purse in the following words: “I have spoken to him about it!” His vanity and self-esteem could not bear his person being spoken of without due respect. This him, with which in her broad South-German accent she denoted his Majesty, sealed her fall.
In an autograph letter her protector of many years informed her that she was dismissed from the court opera of Munich, and that her salary for the unexpired time of her engagement would be paid to her at once. The title “Royal Bavarian Court Singer,” was taken away from her.
Herewith the connection was severed. Several years later, however, she was permitted to enter once more into correspondence with Ludwig.