The Emperor Wilhelm was one of the few princes who saw and talked with Ludwig II. As a rule, the Bavarian King avoided the visits of his compeers. A number of royal personages came to Munich during his reign, and the greater number of them wished to pay him their respects; but, as a rule, he excused himself from receiving the august travellers on the plea of indisposition. The King and Queen of Saxony, the Queen of Würtemberg, the Emperor and Empress of Brazil, and many other princes and princesses, never even saw a glimpse of him. The Emperor of Austria visited his relatives in Bavaria almost every year, but in spite of the friendly relations between Ludwig and the Empress the King used not to show himself to her husband.
It would certainly be wronging Ludwig to assume that his indisposition was only an excuse to avoid the visitors. As a matter of fact, he was tortured and sick both in body and mind. He suffered from insomnia, and complained of constant and violent pains in the back of his head. He began also to avoid his capital. The noise of the streets, the curiosity of the people, the royal tombs, which he could see from the windows of the Palace—all annoyed him! He hardly ever went on foot when in Munich; and when he drove out in the English Garden sat hidden from the glances of the multitude, leaning far back in a closed carriage. Nevertheless, he continued to be popular. But even the people’s homage sometimes displeased him. He used to speak of himself as “sacrificed to ovations.” Court balls and court festivities were a misery to him; when he took part in them it was only as a duty. In order to avoid seeing the guests at table whom he did not like, he ordered vases of flowers to be placed before them. Sincerely as the people and the court desired that he would remain in the capital, he could not, of course, be prevented from ordering his life according to his own tastes, or from spending the greater part of his time in the highlands. But though he sought solitude, and more and more gave himself up to it, and though at times he certainly required it on account of the weakness of his nerves, he was, nevertheless, little fitted to live alone. Despite his hermit tendencies he showed an ever-recurring need to talk with those around him on all the things which occupied his thoughts. His lacqueys and grooms were even required to tell him news of the neighbouring country-folk. More than is usually the case with the generality of people, he was dependent in his sympathies on an attractive manner, a pleasant voice, and a pleasing exterior. His relations with Richard Wagner show that he could be faithful in friendship, but, as a rule, he was unaccountable in his feelings. Some persons he judged in cold blood; in the case of others, he permitted his temperament to carry him to extremes of great unfairness. From certain people he would bear much; the slightest contradiction on the part of others would be sufficient to incur his lasting disfavour.
His love of solitude grew by degrees to be a disease, and at times he literally fled from people. In the middle of the seventies the Queen-mother gave a family party at the Swiss châlet “Pleckenau,” not far from Hohenschwangau. The King, Prince Otto, their aides-de-camp, the Mistress of the Court, and two ladies-in-waiting, were with her. The little party were sitting at table in excellent spirits when a mounted messenger with a telegram arrived from the castle: the Austrian Archduke Rainer, who was staying at Bregenz, asked her Majesty whether it would be convenient for her to receive him the following morning. She handed the telegram to the King, who grew pale as he read it. The displeasure visible on his features affected the whole party. He rose from the table and went out, the others remaining seated. Without a word, he went back to Hohenschwangau. Arrived there, he ordered two carriages to be got ready and to await further orders. The preparations were to be made so quietly that no one would have any suspicion of what was taking place. A little while later the Queen-mother, his brother, and the courtiers returned; and soon the building was quite quiet. The gentlemen of the court lived in a house beside the castle. The King’s apartments were on the first floor, his mother and her ladies inhabiting the ground floor. Only by stealing softly down the stairs could he reach the courtyard of the castle without being heard. Ludwig and his servant accomplished this undetected, and hied them to the royal stables, which are situated at some distance away. With all the speed possible, and in the middle of the night, the King drove to a little village which he was occasionally in the habit of visiting. Here the announcement of his arrival was like a bolt from the blue. The master of the posting station where he alighted had let all his rooms to a military commission; these gentlemen had to be got out of the way as quickly as possible. All had gone to bed, and had to be aroused. The general had only time to half-dress himself and rush out before he met his King on the staircase. At three in the morning Ludwig at last went to bed; despite sedatives it was not possible for him to procure any rest.
The next morning the King received a telegram informing him that the Archduke Rainer had left, “after half-an-hour’s visit.” Ludwig gave orders for his horses to be put to at once. A breakfast which he had ordered, and paid for with eighty guldens, was left untouched. He returned to Hohenschwangau with the same speed with which he had left it. His mother greeted him from her window. Laughing, he called up to her; “I avoided that visit nicely, didn’t I?” The Queen-mother, although she was not satisfied with his flight, was obliged to laugh too.
It will easily be understood that his increasing shyness was a subject of conversation in all circles. We have heard that rumours had already been current that he thought of abdicating the throne; these were fed by his strange caprices and his retired life. Count Holnstein wrote to Bismarck as early as 1871: “Before every audience and every court ceremony the King drinks large quantities of strong wine, and he then says the most extraordinary things. He wishes to abdicate in favour of Prince Otto, who does not entertain the slightest wish for it.... The Ultramontanes know this. They have chosen their candidate for the National Assembly: Prince Luitpold; he is also their candidate for the throne. Perhaps they will succeed in getting him elected in spite of Prince Otto’s claims!”
[1] Louise von Kobell, “Unter den vier ersten Königen Bayerns” (vol. ii. pp. 158, 159). [↑]