At the outbreak of the Franco-German war he was hardly five and twenty years of age. It was at this time that his abnormal mental condition began to be remarked; but prior to this there had been signs which pointed in the same direction. He had from childhood been particularly attracted by good-looking faces. On his accession he pensioned off his father’s old servants, and surrounded himself exclusively with young and handsome men. One of his grooms, Joseph Völkl, was during the years 1864 and 1865 the holder of a much-envied position at court, accompanying the King on his journeys to Switzerland and being allowed to sit in the same carriage with his Majesty. By degrees, however, Völkl grew arrogant, and spoke of his master without respect. Ludwig came to know of this fact, and degraded him instantly. The former continued, however, to spread unseemly gossip about, and the matter coming to the ears of the Ministry, he was dismissed, and died in great poverty.
The Master of the Horse, Hornig, was later the King’s favourite. He was a handsome and well-informed man, with agreeable manners. During the long period of eighteen years he acted as Ludwig’s private secretary, and accompanied him on his travels. While Hornig was preparing the details of the journey to Bayreuth, the King was seized with a sudden unwillingness to undertake it, despite the fact that he was the official patron of the festival. He discussed the matter constantly with the Master of the Horse, without, however, being able to make up his mind. The latter was of opinion that it would create unpleasant remark if the King sent a sudden refusal to be present. In the heat of conversation he exclaimed: “Your Majesty! it would make us laughable if we did such a thing!” Ludwig was so much annoyed at this “us” and “we,” that Hornig lost his favour from that day. After his dismissal the royal quartermaster-sergeant, Hesselschwerdt, took his place. In spite of a poor education he performed his duties to the King’s satisfaction, amusing him, and often disarming his violence by gross untruths, which Ludwig forgave, although he was not deceived by them. He remained in the King’s service until the end of his reign.
With the exception of Richard Wagner all the King’s so-called friends suffered from his caprices. The secluded life he led gave him the time in which to brood over every little utterance which had displeased him. His rancour was, as a rule, deep, and his grudges lasting. The two last cabinet secretaries, Dr von Ziegler and Dr von Müller, were both for a time his pronounced favourites. Even in his last years he understood how to fascinate others, and was able to master and hide his mental sufferings. Ziegler, who was possessed of a jovial and happy disposition, had a good influence on him; and he spoke with admiration and respect of Ludwig’s nobility of mind. The secretary’s retirement in 1883 was greatly regretted.
From this day forward Ludwig associated almost exclusively with his domestics. Even his equerries and the secretary were but occasionally received by their master. Several years before his death one of his warmest admirers, the Chamberlain von Unger, said of him: “The man who ceases to associate with educated women becomes coarse; but when, in addition, he avoids association with educated men, he is wholly and entirely lost!”
CHAPTER XXXI
The Actor Kainz
Joseph Kainz, the actor, who was later so celebrated, had, at the beginning of the eighties, an engagement at Munich; he was then twenty-three years of age. The King saw him for the first time in Victor Hugo’s Marion de Lorme, in which he played the part of the homeless Didier. His unusually sonorous voice, his lofty glance, and the passionate warmth of his acting captivated Ludwig, who the same evening caused to be delivered to him a valuable sapphire ring. Kainz thanked him in a letter full of fire. In an autograph letter, dated the 1st of May, 1881, his Majesty assured him of his friendly feelings, and of his sincere and hearty wishes for his welfare. He added: “Continue as you have begun, in your arduous and difficult but beautiful and honourable calling.[1]”
Marion de Lorme was repeated as a separate performance on the 4th and the 10th of May, and on each occasion Kainz received a new present from the King. Wishing to know him personally Ludwig summoned him to Schloss Linderhof, where he received him with charming affability. He kept him with him for two whole weeks, making excursions with him and treating him as a friend. During the first meeting the actor had been somewhat reserved and formal; but after they had been a few days together all shyness departed from his side, and Ludwig even permitted him to address him as du. The actor declaimed alternately to and with his Majesty, and their artistic entertainments lasted till late into the night. Kainz was allowed to be present at the private performances. The King undertook to provide for his further education, and corresponded frequently with him. The friendship between the prince and the actor was much talked about and much criticised. “It depresses me greatly when I see that my innocent fancies are trumpeted out before the whole world, and are hatefully criticised,” said Ludwig to his new friend. “It has caused me many sad hours. I cannot imagine why I should be grudged my small pleasures, for they do not harm anybody.” When on another occasion they were discussing the art of acting, he said: “I guard my ideals anxiously. I do not care to notice small weaknesses, for I do not like the general harmony to be disturbed.” He continued reflectively: “It is the same with regard to actors; I see only the person in the interpreter! The actor who plays a noble part I imagine to be a noble person.” Kainz demurred to this, saying that although he did not consider himself a villain, it was his wish to play the part of Franz Moor. “No, no,” exclaimed the King eagerly; “you must never represent such a hateful character.” He went on to speak of the part of Didier. “When Marion de Lorme was repeated,” said he, reproachfully, you wore my sapphire ring in the first act. How could the poor, homeless Didier possess such a costly ornament? It offends against the laws of truth.” Kainz excused himself on the plea that he had been informed that his Majesty liked his gifts to be honoured, and that it was for this reason he had worn the ring.
The presents which Kainz received from the King were particularly valuable, and none of the parts he played went unrewarded. One evening as he was about to take his departure, having already one foot in the carriage, Ludwig took his studs from his cuffs and handed them to him as a parting gift. He had his own room allotted to him at Linderhof, and he was permitted to drive alone with his royal friend. The marks of favour which were so abundantly showered upon the young hero of the theatre proved to be too much for him, and he became very injudicious. At first Ludwig looked upon his brutality as the outcome of his love for truth. “How good it is to hear the unvarnished truth!” he said to Councillor Bürckel. The latter, who knew the new favourite better, answered shortly: “Your Majesty! truth and impertinence are two different things!”