Fundamental Traits of Ludwig's Character
Ludwig's tutor, the Count de Larosée, has expressed his conception of
his pupil's character in the following words: "The Crown Prince is
intelligent and highly gifted. He is already possessed of abilities
which far exceed the ordinary. His imagination is so vivid, that I
have seldom seen its equal in so young a man; but he is hasty and
exceedingly quick-tempered. A more than strongly developed wilfulness
points to a stubbornness of character which is perhaps inherited
from his grandfather, and which it will be difficult for him to
control." This "character" was written out by the Count on the day
upon which Ludwig filled his eighteenth year, and on the tutor's
retirement from his responsible position.
The Crown Prince had not merely inherited his grandfather's
obstinacy, but resembled in other ways his father's father and his
own namesake. Like him he was an idealist and Schwärmer, with distinct
leanings towards æstheticism.
Henrik Ibsen, in his play of Ghosts, allows the characteristics of the
progenitor to show themselves already in the first generation. This
is not commonly the case. Far more frequently do the good and the bad
"family ghosts" come out in the second generation; and it may almost
be said that there are daily proofs that the son has more often the
faults and good qualities of his grandsire than of his sire. Such
was the case with Crown Prince Ludwig. To his careful, intelligent,
and conscientious father he had indeed little resemblance; but
his grandfather, the eccentric, stubborn, enthusiastic Ludwig I.,
"walked" in the grandson--not indeed "over again," as the saying is,
but in a new edition, changed in various ways though in other points
easily recognisable. On his mother's side there was also an enthusiast
in the family. Friedrich Wilhelm IV. of Prussia was Queen Marie of
Bavaria's first cousin, the son of her sister. There was in Ludwig's
tastes and turn of mind much that resembled this Prussian King, who
in contrast to the greater number of the Hohenzollerns took a greater
interest in science and art than in the profession of arms. But,
nevertheless, Ludwig II. was unique in his way. He was a peculiar,
strange figure in the midst of his immediate surroundings--an enigma
to his own race, as he was to his own people! He seems rather to have
belonged to another race than to the Teutonic one, and another age than
the nineteenth century. There are traits in his character which lead
our thoughts back to the times of Greek and Roman antiquity. In his
instincts and his passions he was closely allied to the Roman Emperor
Hadrian. In one respect, however, he was very modern, namely in his
love of a mountain life. He loved the alps; and it is characteristic
of this shy King, who would hardly undertake a journey that was not
to his pleasure palaces, that he repeatedly visited the alpine country
par excellence, namely, Switzerland.
He inherited from both his parents his delight in the mountains. The
royal family were in the habit of spending the summers at Schloss
Hohenschwangau, in the Bavarian highlands, not far from Munich. This
was in reality an old castle, built a thousand years back in time,
but entirely reconstructed by Maximilian when he was Crown Prince. [2]
Many historical reminiscences and legends are connected with the
castle, whose halls are filled with memorials of days gone by,
and whose walls are decorated with pictures of Lohengrin and the
swan in every conceivable aspect. It is said that Hohenschwangau
provided Tannhäuser with a night's shelter when he was returning
from his pilgrimage to Rome. Martin Luther, too, during the time of
the Reformation, when he was in need and danger, is supposed to have
sought refuge in this castle, which is also known by the name of the
Wartburg of Bavaria.
King Maximilian felt himself in better health after he had spent
the summer there, and with his wife, who was a bold climber,
was in the habit of going walking tours in the neighbouring
country. Hohenschwangau was the Queen's favourite place of
residence. She was unassuming, and exceedingly simple in her tastes,
the charming Marie finding her greatest pleasure in housewifely
occupations. On tablecloths which she had woven herself, she served
fish caught by her own hands. When in the country she was in the habit
of going about in a large kitchen apron, she dusted her own china
and ornaments, and took an innocent pleasure in washing up the used
coffee-cups. Moreover, she caused to be fitted up at Hohenschwangau,
a spinning-room in which she diligently turned her wheel for the
benefit of the poor of the neighbourhood.
To their son Ludwig these visits were also a source of pleasure, albeit
in a manner differing from that of the other members of the family. The
great solitude had the effect on the boy's impressionable mind of a
release from oppressive chains. Here, with his romantic disposition,
the child found food for his vivid imagination; here he could dream
himself into the legendary lore of olden days, and give free rein to
his longing for the marvellous. On the quiet paths he could immerse
himself in the German classics, chiefly in the works of Schiller,
which spoke in living words to his heart and mind, and he would at
times spend half a day in declaiming the resounding verses of his
favourite poet.
Strictly as he was brought up by his parents, he was at times left
too much to himself. He would withdraw in his free hours to solitude
and give himself up to day-dreams. "How dull your Royal Highness must
find the want of occupation," said his tutor, Dean von Döllinger,
to him one day when he found him sitting alone in a dark room on
account of a slight eye affection. "Why do you not let some one read
aloud to you?" "I am not dull," answered the Prince, "I am thinking
out different things, and I amuse myself very well in this manner."
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.