The King makes the Tour of his Kingdom
A couple of months after peace had been concluded Ludwig made the
tour of his kingdom--the first and the last of his reign.
He appeared with great brilliance, his suite consisting of no less
than a hundred and nineteen persons. Although the war had brought
Bavaria neither honour nor advantage, and although the King had taken
no active part in it, he was everywhere received with the greatest
rejoicings. The enthusiasm he aroused was so great, that his journey
literally resembled a triumphal progress, and this conquered and
peaceful monarch might have taken to himself Cæsar's celebrated words:
Veni, vidi, vici.
The sympathy of the people during the war of 1866 had been markedly
on the side upon which the Government had placed itself, namely, that
of Austria. The young King's personality was, moreover, as if created
to awaken interest and devotion. He was twenty-one years of age. He
united to his youth a beauty which was widely celebrated. Nearly every
illustrated paper in Germany, nay, the whole of Europe, published a
picture of him at that time, and to these was added a text redundant
with admiration and praise. The romantic light which rested on him,
the legends current as to his gifts and his intellect, his æsthetic
and artistic tastes, even the many half-true half-fictitious stories
of his caprices and peculiarities--all contributed to increase the
interest taken in him. Added to this was the fact that this official
journey was for the purpose of making acquaintance with the wounds
caused by the war, and in order, as far as possible, to bring healing
and relief to them.
It was a winter journey. The snow lay like a white coverlet over
the afflicted provinces traversed by the railway. But from behind
the wide plate-glass windows Ludwig saw, whenever a group of houses
came into sight, that a flag was hoisted on every roof and that from
every window a hearty welcome was being waved to him. The noise of
the train was put to naught by the jubilant clangour of the village
trumpets and clarionets. In the towns the reception was on a grander
scale, and not less hearty. All the streets were decorated with flags
and banners, and all the bells were pealing. The sounds of cannon,
music, and cries of hurrah mingled one with another. The Monarch was
the recipient of loyal speeches, verses, state dinners, and parades of
troops. Concerts and balls were given in his honour. Young girls with
awed admiration presented him with nosegays. The poor and the rich,
the young and the old, gave proof-positive of their devotion by the
zeal and impatience with which they sought to approach him. The joy of
the people broke through police-guards and etiquette. Everyone asked
to welcome this conquered man who was making a triumphal progress
though the conquered provinces. "Never," a Bavarian officer who was
with him told me--"never was a King worshipped as was Ludwig on his
tour in his own country." The jubilations were equally deafening,
the heartiness just as spontaneous, in Bayreuth, in Bamberg, Hof,
Schweinfurt, Kissingen, Aschaffenburg, Würzburg, and Nuremberg.
The snowstorms now and then reduced a plan to nothing; Ludwig's health
sometimes failed and prevented him from enjoying the festivities as
much as he might have done; he was unable now and then to appear at
some entertainment which had been given in his honour. But he was
never-failing in his amiability, and he visited all the places where
there had been battles with the enemy, laying flowers with his own
hand on the soldiers' graves, and rewarding those who had helped to
nurse the wounded.
On the 30th of November he arrived in the most glorious winter weather
at Nuremberg, welcomed by crowds of people and shouts of "Long live
the King!"
In the evening the citizens gave a brilliant ball; it was so numerously
attended that it was only with difficulty space could be kept for
the dancers. Nevertheless, Ludwig danced for four hours running. He
conversed with ladies of all ages, and with men of the most varying
grades of society. He was pushed into the very midst of the crowd,
and he laughed and joked at the incident. It was not till long after
midnight that he withdrew from the ball. He remained a whole week in
Nuremberg. The castle courtyard, and the neighbouring castle hill,
were besieged by people from morning to night, who could not look
often enough on their King. From the adjacent country places people
came in troops to the town; and every day he gave audience in the
hall of the Kaiserburg.
Throughout the journey magnificent gifts of money poured out of the
privy purse for the assuaging of poverty and need. Criminals were
pardoned, and the countless petitions which were sent in were nearly
all granted. The police endeavoured to keep the obtrusive supplicants
away. But the Monarch had a sharp eye for that which it was desired
to keep from him. He discovered for himself among the crowds of
people the pale and careworn forms who hung together with petitions
in their hands, and he would then send one of his equerries to find
out the nature of their wishes. Wearing a field-marshal's uniform he
held a review of the troops on the Ludwigsmark, and sewed with his
own hand the war memorial on four standards. The general in command
made a speech in his honour, after which the troops broke out into
vociferous cheering.
In response to a special invitation Prince Otto joined him at
Nuremberg; the interest of the inhabitants from this moment was divided
between the two brothers. Otto also was genial with all with whom he
came in contact. He was handsome; and he was the possessor of a gay
and lively temperament, in which his brother was wanting.
At last the end came of the royal days in Nuremberg. On the afternoon
of the 10th of December the King, accompanied by his brother, left
the town. He promised soon to repeat the visit--a promise which was
never fulfilled! Despite the demonstrations of love and devotion which
were so often and so unstintingly lavished on him by the population,
he never again during his reign of twenty-two years travelled in
his kingdom.