“I remain always your very gracious King,
“Ludwig.”
The invitations, however, were not repeated. Ludwig came to have other interests and other favourites.
The tenor, Franz Ignaz Nachbaur, was showered with proofs of favour. He had begun his career as a chorus singer, but a Swiss art mæcena had caused him to be educated under Lamperti at Milan. In 1868 he received an invitation to appear as Walther von Stolzing in the Meistersinger von Nürnberg. He was not, as a matter of fact, a very intelligent singer; but he surpassed all his colleagues by his exceedingly handsome exterior, and by the pure tenor tones of his voice. Ludwig appointed him chamber singer. After every new rôle he sent him handsome presents, among other things a Lohengrin equipment of wrought silver, and a number of diamond pins and rings. Nachbaur, who was in the habit of exhibiting them with childlike delight, was in consequence given the soubriquet of “Brilliant Nazzi.”
In addition to Wagner’s musical works, the King took pleasure in hearing Lortzing’s, Kreutzer’s, Verdi’s, and Halévy’s operas. The day after he had been present for the first time at Halévy’s opera, Guido et Guivera, he sent for Nachbaur, and, to the astonishment of the artist, though he had never set eyes on the music, sang through the whole of the great aria. When he had finished, he said: “Will you now be good enough to sing the air for me? I should like to know if I have sung it right.” On one occasion, when Nachbaur was ill, Ludwig wrote to him: “Take care of yourself. Do it for your family’s sake and to preserve your divine voice. Do it, too, for my sake. I ask it of you, I, the King, who otherwise am not wont to ask.” On another occasion he wrote to him: “We are both opposed to all that is meretricious and bad, and we glow with holy enthusiasm for everything that is lofty and pure. We will, therefore, all our lives be faithful and sincere friends.” The singer Vogel, likewise, often received commands to wait upon his Majesty at a certain hour of the night. He had to sing an air to him, and was thereafter driven back to his home. The King had been a fine rider, and as a young man he had ridden straight and undaunted on his favourite horse. This horse he now presented to the opera singer Frau Vogel. Every time she appeared as Brunhilde in Wagner’s Götterdämmerung she rode it when she made her daring leaps into the flames. During a performance when Possart and Frau Ramlo exchanged rings, the King sent them two diamond rings, which they were instructed to wear on the stage and keep in remembrance of him.
He spared indeed neither gifts nor distinctions in the case of actors and singers who won his favour. Gold watches and chains, brilliants, bracelets, brooches were sent to them from the Kaiserloge as signs of approval. During the latter years of his life, however, he showed more reserve in his intercourse with artists, and also, on the whole, spoke less often with persons with whom he was not already acquainted.
Towards the painters to whom he gave orders he was likewise, as a rule, very friendly. With regard to these also, as where scenic art was concerned, he inexorably demanded that everything must be reproduced with historical faithfulness. An error of etiquette in a picture he blamed as severely as if it had been committed in his presence. Heinrich von Pechmann had been commissioned to paint a picture representing the Lever de Marie de Antoinette. Although the general effect of the composition was very pleasing, the King returned it with the message that “ladies-in-waiting did not fan themselves, nor did they converse with the gentlemen of the court in the Queen’s presence.” Moreover, he wished to see among those depicted the composer Gluck, who was at that time attached to the French court. The artist Ille had been commanded by Ludwig to paint five large pictures with subjects from the legend of “Lohengrin,” which it was intended should be hung at Hohenschwangau. “The King would be glad to see the Emperor’s carriage altered,” wrote Ludwig’s secretary to him on the subject; “but he will not, however, make it a command against your artistic convictions. Unless rendered impossible by technical difficulties or the text of the poem, the King would also like to see the morning or evening sun shining upon the Archangel Michael. Furthermore, I am to ask you to consider whether the swan’s head is not too large, and if its breast, which is resting on the water, is not too weak? The King has, I may explain, from his earliest youth been familiar with the appearance of these birds.” Ille made the required alterations, and received a fine diamond ring as an expression of the King’s satisfaction.
Ludwig spent many hours daily in the study of literature, and invariably took books with him on his mountain excursions. When he travelled, a trunk was filled with a careful selection of works from his favourite authors. As Crown Prince he had had no opportunity of receiving instruction at a college or of acquiring information and experience by sojourns in foreign lands; but by self-study he became at an early age a well-informed man. He thoroughly studied countless scientific works; and when he felt himself drawn towards an author he read everything that writer had produced. Nor was the author’s personality and private life indifferent to him. If the latter was still alive the King would give orders that information should be procured for him as to his pecuniary and other conditions; and were he poor, Ludwig would very often afford him generous assistance in the most unostentatious manner.