While this conversation was taking place the chief physician was telegraphing to Munich: “Everything is going wonderfully well here.” A quarter of an hour afterwards the King started on his last walk with Gudden. The sky was overclouded, and a drizzling rain was falling. Two keepers accompanied them. The doctor observed that their presence was unnecessary, and soon afterwards they returned to the castle. The King and his physician struck into the path they had followed in the morning. Ludwig had known the banks of the lake of Starnberg from childhood, and it is more than probable that he had that forenoon chosen the spot where he would free himself from his life. The physician had said he would return with the King at eight o’clock. Half-past eight and nine passed, but they did not appear; and anxiety was felt at the castle in case some accident might have happened to them in the darkness of the park. The assistant doctor had the immediate vicinity carefully searched. This led at first to no result, for no one thought of the lake of Starnberg. Not far from the seat on which Ludwig and Gudden had rested in the forenoon were found later the umbrellas of both men. A fisherman was summoned; and upon rowing a short distance from the shore in his boat the body of Dr Gudden, in a half-sitting posture, with the back bent below the surface of the water, was discovered. A few feet farther out was found the King’s lifeless body, the head downwards, and the arms bent forward. The lake was not so deep at this spot but he could have saved himself had he been so minded.
What had happened at this spot will for ever remain unknown. The sorrowful incident took place without witnesses; but the tracks along the shore, and in the bottom of the lake, which was examined, justify the following assumption. The King was walking on the right side, Gudden on the left, until they reached the seat they had rested on before. The King must then have thrown down his umbrella and run towards the lake, for his footsteps could be seen on the damp moss-grown shore. Gudden had immediately rushed after him, and seized him by the coat-collar. His grasp must have been very firm, for the nail of one of his fingers was splintered. Ludwig, on the other hand, must have continued to press forward, for Gudden had retained both the coats of the King in his hand. Above the doctor’s left eye there was a bruise, which undoubtedly resulted from a blow. A terrible struggle must have taken place.
Dr Müller made the most strenuous efforts to call Ludwig back to life, but all his exertions were in vain; death had freed the mad King from the torments of his existence.
CHAPTER XLII
Conclusion
On the evening of Whitmonday the body of Ludwig II. was conveyed to Munich.
The hearse, which was drawn by four horses and was accompanied by his servants and by priests, arrived at the capital at half-past three in the morning. Great numbers of country people followed his coffin weeping. Nobody believed he had been mad, but that an innocent man had been persecuted. In the hearts of all there lived the memory of the beloved King, who had promised so much, whose peculiarities they had condoned, and who, despite all, had continued to be the pride of the Bavarians.
The news of his tragic end shocked the whole of Germany. His capital, where he had so seldom resided, mourned him deeply and sincerely; and in the country districts there was hardly a hut where his picture was not wreathed with crape. The dead King lay in state on a high catafalque, dressed in the knightly robes of the order of St Hubert, with its golden band round his neck, and the sword of iron resting on his left arm. On his breast lay flowers, brought by the Empress Elizabeth. Thousands of all grades of society pressed into the little chapel to bid him a last farewell. Sorrow was written on all faces; sympathy found expression on all lips. The lonely eccentric had found peace at last.