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.

His despairing wife had spent the night in the sick-room. The

eighteen-year-old Crown Prince was now with his father. The King had a

prolonged private conversation with him, warning him, counselling him,

and endeavouring at the eleventh hour to gain the confidence of his

son, who had always withdrawn shyly into himself and whose character

was to him a riddle.

He took an affecting and affectionate farewell of the Queen and both

his children, blessing them, and expressing a hope of reunion. "My

son," he said to his successor, "I hope for you a death as quiet as

your father's!" These were his last words. It would almost seem as

if the veil over the events of the future was lifted at this time

to the view of the dying king, and that he saw things which made him

suspect or fear his son's tragic ending. The Archbishop spoke words

of consolation to the dying man as he at midday, without a struggle,

was called to the eternal rest. Ludwig swooned with the strength of

his emotions. Later in life he was heard to say how painfully it had

impressed him that he had been greeted as the Sovereign as he left

his father's deathbed. "The Lord has taken a good king away from

us! Let us pray that He will give us as good a king again!" said the

Archbishop to the assembled courtiers, who were waiting outside. All

fell on their knees; tears and sobs filled the room. The capital and

the kingdom were weighed down by the pain of their loss.

The sorrow at the demise of a highly venerated prince was mingled with

sympathy for his successor, who had been brought up so strictly and

in such loneliness. A heavy burden had with the mantle of kingship

been laid on his shoulders; the father's early death was no doubt

a misfortune to the son. The seeds of mental morbidness which were

slumbering within him would hardly have shot so soon into growth,

nor perhaps would Maximilian's principles of education have brought

about such distressing consequences, had not Ludwig become King

when he was in the midst of his development. He was too young and

unformed to be able to support without injury this forcible and

sudden transition. All the doors which previously had been shut to

him were now opened wide. All sought his favour. He was worshipped

and applauded, while his most commonplace utterances were given the

character of winged words.

On the 12th of March he took the oath to the Constitution, in the

presence of the royal princes and the members of the Council of

State. The Minister of Foreign Affairs made a speech, which the new

King answered in the following words:

"Almighty God has called my dear, greatly-beloved father away from

this world. I cannot give utterance to the feelings with which my

heart is filled. The task awaiting me is great and arduous. I trust

in God, Who will send me light and strength to fill it. I will govern

faithfully, in conformity with the oath which I have just taken,

and in conformity with the Constitution which has now existed for

nearly half-a-century. The welfare of my beloved Bavarians, and the

greatness of Germany, will be the object of my efforts. I ask of all

your assistance in the fulfilment of my arduous duties."

Ludwig became popular without any effort whatever on his side; the

Bavarians are a loyal race, and strong ties knit the people and the

royal house together. Nor was the Monarch's sympathetic appearance

without its effect. All were struck by his beauty and attractive

personality.

An Austrian writer who saw and talked with him soon after his

accession, several years afterwards expressed himself in the following

terms:

"He was the handsomest youth I ever saw. His tall, slim figure

was perfectly symmetrical. His abundant, lightly curling hair,

and the slight indication of a beard lent to his head a likeness to

those great antique works of art, through which we have found the

representation of the Hellenic conception of manly strength. Even

had he been a beggar he must have attracted my attention. No person,

whether old or young, rich or poor, could remain unaffected by the

charm of his whole person. His voice was agreeable. The questions

he asked were concise and decided, his subjects were well-chosen

and intellectual, and he expressed himself easily and naturally. The

admiration he aroused in me has never diminished, but on the contrary

has increased with years. The picture of the young Monarch is still

imprinted in unfading colours on my mind."

Another German writer, Paul Heyse, met the young King about the

same time, and has likewise published his impressions of him. He

is not quite so enthusiastic in his admiration, but seems also to

have been impressed. "The large eyes," says Heyse, "were dreamy,

the glance winning. What he said was entirely without any trace of

embarrassment. His judgment of those in his proximity was unusually

certain, and his knowledge of human nature wonderful, in view of his

lonely education, so far away from the world."

Ludwig the Second, King of Bavaria · 第 3 / 42 章