“Evaluated? How can you declare me mentally ill when you have neither examined nor spoken to me?” Ludwig shouted.
“I took this step,” von Gudden said, “on the strength of the servants’ evidence.”
“On the strength of the evidence of paid lackeys that I have raised from nothing and they betray me in return? And how long, assuming I am really sick, do you think my cure will take?”
“That will depend upon Your Majesty. It will be necessary for you to submit to my instructions.”
“We are not living in an age of might before right. My subjects shall judge whether I am crazy or not.”
Though of weak mind and body he could, on occasion, display extraordinary resolve.
“You have come to tell an insane man that he is insane? Does that not imply that I be sane, so as to understand?”
No one offered him a reply.
A great horror began to steal over him. Only a few servants remained in the castle, and no one seemed to want to fight for him.
So he fought for himself.
“No Wittelsbach—let me tell you once and for all—need ever submit to anything.”
“That may be so,” von Gudden said, “but I have been ordered to take you away.”
A little after midday on June 12three coaches arrived on the shores of Lake Starnberg at Berg Castle. This new location had been chosen for the king’s confinement after all of the drama that had occurred at Neuschwanstein. The government could not afford any more local uprisings that might grant Ludwig freedom. So he would be confined closer to Munich in a locale that could be readily defended.
The ride north had taken eight hours.
Berg Castle was a special place for Ludwig. He’d spent much time there during his twenty-one-year reign, enjoying its peaceful tranquility. But now the door handles to every room had been removed, the windows crisscrossed with heavy iron bars, the doors themselves drilled with peepholes for observation. Clearly a lot of preparation had occurred prior to his arrival.
The king took lunch, then lay down to rest. He rose at midnight and asked for his clothes, but the guards refused. He fell asleep again around dawn, on Pentecost Sunday,June 13. His request to attend Mass was refused. During the day he stayed by himself, then ate around 4:30 in the afternoon. After the meal, Ludwig reminded von Gudden that he’d promised a walk. The doctor reluctantly agreed, telling someone, “I wish the king would spare me. The man is so tiresome with his many questions.”
Before the walk, von Gudden telegraphed Munich to say that “everything is working out wonderfully.”
Near 6:45P.M.von Gudden left with the king, with two guards in tow. But the doctor dismissed them, saying they would walk alone and be back before eight for supper.
The rain started around seven.
By eight, when the king and von Gudden had not returned, the police were informed and all available men headed out with lanterns and torches.
More rain and wind made the search difficult.
The king’s rolled umbrella was found laid across a park bench. His overcoat and suit jacket were also located. Both seemed to have been removed quickly, turned inside out, the arms of the suit jacket still stuffed into the overcoat. Nearby, onshore, several branches were broken, as if someone had pushed their way through the underbrush to the lake. The king’s bowler and von Gudden’s silk hat were spotted in the water.
Ludwig was found floating facedown, his eyes open, his skin cold to the touch. Von Gudden bobbed nearby in a half-kneeling, half-sitting position. Rigor mortis had set in on both, but attempts were made at resuscitation. Von Gudden’s face had scratches along with a large bruise over the right eye, a deep cut on the forehead, and a gash in one cheek. The nail of the middle finger of the right hand was gone. The king showed no visible injuries. Ludwig’s watch had stopped at 6:54. Von Gudden’s at 8:00P.M.
The corpses were returned to Berg Castle.
The next day Ludwig’s body was washed and laid out for the many peasants, who’d gathered beyond the castle gates, to view. They made a death mask, sculpted his hands, and cut a few locks of hair.
Then the body was returned to Munich.
An autopsy was performed and its findings released to the public. To bolster a claim of mental insanity, the report noted an inflammation of the skull, a thin scalp, and a small growth near the front of the brain. All supposedly pointing to degenerative brain disease.
For the next three days the king lay in state at the Residenz, under a rich blue silk pall, smothered in fresh flowers, allowing the public to file past the open casket. He wore the black robe of the Order of the Knights of St. Hubertus and held a sword in his left hand, a small bouquet of jasmine in his right. He seemed to be merely sleeping, a slight smile on his ashen lips. The bells of every church in Munich rang for an hour on Saturday, June 19, as cannons boomed in the distance.
Stefan stood before Ludwig II’s bronze tomb.
Which had been here since 1886.