There are strange contrasts in Ludwig’s character; on the one side a yearning to escape from humanity, with its unnatural and stilted aspects, to unalloyed nature, to the stillness, the prayerful solemnity of solitude; on the other, even in his early years, an enthusiastic love of plastic art, combined with a delight in effective representations, for artificial brilliancy and pomp. So much, indeed, was this the case, that the thought cannot but arise in the mind that he was intended rather for the stage than for a throne. The life of the human community seemed to have no particular interest, and still less attraction, for him. He stood uncomprehending, and in a measure uncomprehended, before even the circle in which he lived.
But the serious moment was approaching. He had filled his eighteenth year; duties and responsibilities awaited him. He was now about to step out into public life.
[1] According to tradition, a knight by the name of Schwangau was the original builder of the castle. Another account, which is probably quite as near the truth, connects the name of Hohenschwangau with the legend of the Knights of the Swan. [↑]
CHAPTER III
“Le Roi est mort! Vive le Roi!”
A feeling of gloom and sadness rested over Munich; Maximilian II. was dying.
On the 9th of March, 1864, he signed in his bed the last documents of his reign. The same evening the doctors relinquished all hope of being able to save his life. It had long been known that he was a sick man, but no one had had any idea that his last hour was approaching. The news, which was quickly spread, filled the capital with dismay and lamentations. Immense crowds of people penetrated into the courtyard of the Palace, and gazed up at their ruler’s windows.
Snow and rain fell heavily. The wind howled, but no one seemed to notice it. No longer was it possible to expect news which might bring consolation. All were thinking the same thought: “Our good King is dying!” The sorrow over the whole country was indescribable. At four in the morning on the 10th of March the physician-in-ordinary informed the sick man that he must prepare himself for death, telling him at the same time that his confessor was in the Palace. “Has it come to this?” asked Maximilian, who felt exceedingly weak but suffered little pain. “Well, well—God will do the best for me! I have always wished what was right.” A believer, he made his confession and received extreme unction.