CHAPTER XXI
The Review of the Troops in 1875—Crown Prince Friedrich of Prussia
The Bavarian people had accustomed themselves to Ludwig’s peculiarities. Foreign states and peoples still regarded his ways and actions as signs of genius. The King himself seemed to be indifferent as to the impression his conduct made upon others.
Military pageants had never interested him; he had had from his childhood a morbid dread of firearms and of war. On the return of the troops in 1871 he had not even glanced at the wounded—not because his heart was wanting in sympathy for them, but because his nerves could not endure the sight. Great, therefore, was the general astonishment when it was announced in the summer of 1875 that it was the King’s intention to hold a review. People found it difficult to think that he would make this exception from his hermit habits.
The report, however, was not contradicted. The troops stationed at the different garrisons were already out at the autumn manœuvres when 14,000 men were recalled to the capital. Ludwig wished to show the World that he had the chief command of his army. His intention had hardly been made known before thousands of strangers flocked to Munich to see him. On Sunday, the 15th of August, 1875, all the streets were filled to overflowing. The Monarch’s brilliant suite took up its position between the entrance to the royal gardens and the Feldherren Halle. When he rode up on his white horse that beautiful Sunday morning, at the head of his staff, the crowds were thrilled with love and admiration for him.
The King no longer possessed his fascinating beauty; but his features were still refined and noble, and his eyes full of soul, and brilliant as before. Despite his youth, he had become very stout, but being tall, his figure was as imposing as ever. He had only to show himself to arouse enthusiasm.
With the dignity which was his by birth, and with the fascinating amiability which he displayed in his best moments, he bowed in all directions. The troops were forbidden to greet him with cheers, but no such regulation restricted the citizens. The enthusiasm increased like an avalanche; it spread from street to street, giving unmistakable indication of how dearly he was still beloved. At the conclusion of the review he rode up to Princess Gisela,[1] who had been present at it, sitting in the King’s state carriage. At this moment he was surrounded from all sides. His servants endeavoured to hold the crowd back, but he hastened to prevent them. It was with the utmost trouble that a way was made for him when at a foot’s pace he returned to the city. So overwhelming was the enthusiasm that he felt himself constrained to write the same day, in his own hand, a letter of thanks for all the proofs of loyalty and love which he had met with. This was the last time he gave the citizens of Munich an opportunity of doing homage to him; the last time that his heart proudly beat time with those of his subjects.
Nevertheless, this bright day, so full of feeling, was by no means the outcome of noble thought: the German Crown Prince was in the habit of holding a review every autumn of the Bavarian troops. Jealousy of him had caused the lonely King to appear once more before the world.
At the return of the troops in 1871 his displeasure with Friedrich had been very apparent. It had not grown less with the course of years. Ludwig II. suffered more deeply under the supremacy of Prussia than any of the other princes because his kingdom was larger than that of any other prince, and because he was morbid and his pride wounded. While his Ministers in 1870–71 were spinning out the negotiations respecting the federation of the German States, Friedrich had uttered words of anger against Bavaria of which its King had not remained in ignorance. He looked upon the Crown Prince’s annual visit to his kingdom as an insult; and he was possessed by the morbid conviction that the latter, when Emperor, would drive him out of his dominions. “It is not pleasant to be swallowed up,” he often repeated. Wilhelm I. had, in 1872, sent him the Order of the Black Eagle; but the envoy conveying it had been unable to gain an audience of the King, despite the earnest representations of the Prussian Minister at Munich. At last, however, Ludwig was persuaded to send a letter of thanks. He wrote that “it would give him pleasure to receive the Emperor’s Order at a later date, when he was feeling less fatigued; for the time being he was over-tired and could not fix any day”!
Still, he by no means cherished unfriendly feelings towards the old Emperor. During the last years of his life he mentioned the attempts to assassinate the latter as one of the reasons for his own distaste for mixing with the world. And when Wilhelm, accompanied by the Grand Duchess of Baden, visited Bayreuth, in order to be present at a Wagner festival, he sent his confidential secretary to arrange everything in as pleasant a manner as possible for him and his daughter. Wilhelm, on his side, had only friendly feelings towards Ludwig. He repeatedly expressed his regret that the King of Bavaria withdrew so much from the world; and he never forgot the services he had done him and his country. But the King of Prussia was three times the age of the King of Bavaria; he was, moreover, a soldier from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet, and of any real understanding between them there could be little possibility, since Ludwig by no means shared the enthusiasm which was generally felt at the reconstitution of the German Empire, and was weary of the continued praise at his attitude in the years 1870–71. He was a Bavarian before all else. Often he expressed himself: “I am honoured only by the colours of my country.”