CHAPTER XXXIV

The Mad King

In the most beautiful of the castles built by Ludwig II. there stands

near the entrance to the fine concert-room a curious piece of statuary,

for the execution of which he himself provided the idea: a palm in

the prime of its abundance and strength, laden with golden fruit. At

the foot of it is represented a loathsome dragon, with wide-open

mouth--a symbol of the inherited malady which was lying in wait for

the heavily oppressed Monarch.

In the case of Prince Otto of Bavaria madness had broken out suddenly:

in the case of Ludwig it came unnoticed and insidiously, not even

the specialists being quite alive to the danger. There can be no

doubt that he himself knew that he was periodically insane; but he

was determined at any cost to prevent the outside world from seeing

him in this condition.

In February 1884 he caused a dentist to be summoned to him. The

latter has written down his reminiscences from his visit. The King

was exceedingly gracious. He spoke first of the suffering caused

him by his teeth. Although he could not bear his servants to look

at him he endured this strange dentist for hours, without a look or

a word betraying the dislike he must undoubtedly have felt of his

presence. When the dentist contradicted him a couple of times he

took it with calmness and good-humour. He adduced new reasons for

his opinions, and showed admirable self-possession.

With his whole strength he fought to free himself from the fatal web

which was being spun closer and closer around him. He sought to keep

himself in balance by restless activity, building castles in three

different localities. Many of the objects which filled his residences

were constructed after his own designs, and he tested them carefully

and selected the places where they were to stand.

Ludwig was particularly interested in French literature, and was

seized with a violent admiration for the court of Versailles. Louis

XIV. became his ideal. At first he contented himself with copying his

buildings. Later he endeavoured to imitate his gait, his carriage,

and his daily habits. He surrounded himself with pictures of him and

his court; he wore cuff-studs on which were fleurs-de-lys, and the same

emblem was embroidered in gold on chairs, sofas, and cushions in his

apartments. He longed to be an absolute autocrat; and the countless

books and writings which he perused treating of Louis XIV. provided

his distorted imagination with continual food. During the latter

years of his life he was completely under the sway of megalomania,

thinking that he was receiving visits from and conversing with le Roi

Soleil. At times he was even under the hallucination that he was that

powerful autocrat.

For Marie Antoinette also he cherished a morbid admiration, losing

himself in dreams about that unhappy Queen, and causing Masses to be

said on the day of her and Louis XVI.'s execution. Round the table in

the great dining-hall chairs were placed for the ladies and gentlemen

of the French court. At times he believed that they really sat there,

and conversed animatedly with them in French. Apt as he often could

be in his remarks, he was heard to observe that this society was

so agreeable to him because "they came when they were wanted and

disappeared at the first hint."

Always solitary, he gave himself up almost entirely to his fantastic

whims. When he did not drive out he would spend the night on the lake,

or in the brightly-illuminated concert-room of his castle. For some

years he cherished a mad scheme of employing a number of detectives

to make the round of his kingdom and listen to all they could hear

about his person.

His was a curious double nature: to his great sympathy for the

republic of Switzerland and the hero of freedom, William Tell, he

united the wish for a Bastille, where every person who dared to express

a different opinion from his own might be incarcerated for life.

The lattices and walls with which he surrounded his castles show better

than all rumour how he avoided his fellow-men. To a learned scientist

was allotted the task of finding a desert island or distant land which

might be exchanged for Bavaria, and where the absolutist state which

he dreamt of might be established. Although he had such a high opinion

of his royal dignity, he forgot it on a thousand occasions; and so

much was this the case that at his last court reception in Munich

his mother found herself constrained to bring the gathering to an end.

His outbreaks of violence became more frequent; his struggles against

the disease weaker. At times everything seemed indifferent to him. At

others he heard steps behind him and turned round in fear; but no one

was to be seen. He saw reptiles crawling on the floor, but discovered

the next moment that the lacquey who obediently stooped to pick the

animal up had nothing in his hand. He would endeavour to trick the

servant by demanding that he should see things which he himself did

not see, and would fall upon him in anger and contempt when he had

allowed himself to be betrayed into these subterfuges. When Ludwig

drove out he was in the habit of bowing deeply to a particular tree

in the wood; and clad in his coronation robes, with his sceptre in

his hand, he would also bow respectfully to the statues of the French

kings. Several times he caused the snow to be covered with stones,

so that in winter he might imagine it to be summer.

But despite all he retained his power of acute observation. He never

ceased to a certain degree to think logically and to pursue steadily

any act or design. Even during the last years of his life there were

days and weeks when he was in full possession of his mental powers.

Ludwig the Second, King of Bavaria · 第 34 / 42 章