The Bavarian royal drama of 1886 and the misuse of psychiatry: new results

Introduction

Ludwig II was the fourth king of Bavaria. He was born to King Max II and his wife, Princess Marie of Prussia, on 25 August 1845 and ascended the throne at the age of 18½ years on 10 March 1864 after his father’s early death. Ludwig II had been educated by army officers and tutors. He had not studied at a university, undertaken a ‘grand tour’ or gained any practical experience, as was typical of a future monarch trained in governing a country, and he was well aware of this lack (von Dahn, 1895).

Ludwig II was highly intelligent, had a vivid imagination and a strong inclination to stress his self-importance and royal dignity. This caused him serious trouble with members of the royal family during his reign.

Despite his pacifist convictions, Ludwig II was involved in two wars during his reign because of existing contracts. In the first, the Austro-Prussian War in 1866, Bavaria sided with the Austrian Empire and lost. The Secret Treaty of Alliance between Prussia and Bavaria of 22 August 1866 (Volkert, 2003) placed the Bavarian army under the command of the Prussian King in times of war. Bavaria’s limited sovereignty was very upsetting for Ludwig. The second was the Franco-German War in 1870–1. It plunged Ludwig into an emotional crisis. He wanted to abdicate in favour of his brother, Otto, but changed his mind a few days later. The war ended with a victory of the German states over France. In March 1871, after the war had ended, Ludwig II wrote to his former governess, Sibylle von Leonrod, with whom he maintained a trusting, affectionate relationship until her death (Haasen, 1995):

… sad, horrible times that we are being forced to live through, during my reign already two excruciating wars! Very hard for a peace-loving prince! The crude handicraft of war, when practised for long, corrupts people’s morals, makes them unable to entertain grand, noble ideals, dulls them for spiritual enjoyment, for these alone are capable of exercising a permanent fascination, these alone bestow genuine blissfulness and inner satisfaction. (Hacker, 1972: 198) ¹

This was a revealing personal testimony. Although seeking to preserve the independence of the Kingdom of Bavaria at any cost, Ludwig II signed the ‘Imperial Letter” on 30 November 1870, addressed to King Wilhelm of Prussia and drafted by Bismarck, in the name of the German princes and free cities (Hüttl, 1986; von Böhm, 1924). The letter offered King Wilmhelm the title of emperor. The formerly independent Kingdom of Bavaria became one of the larger monarchies within the empire, which Ludwig considered to be his biggest political defeat. From now on, he immersed himself more and more in an idealized world of the arts: planning, building, decorating and furnishing his romantic, majestic castles and enjoying the company of actors and artists.

Ludwig increasingly isolated himself from the leading members of his family and the important people of his kingdom. He moved his court more and more away from Munich to the Castle of Berg on Lake Starnberg and to the Castle of Hohenschwangau, built by his father, Max II, in the Bavarian Alps. By the final two to three years of his life, almost all the educated, influential civil servants who more or less matched him intellectually had left his court, for reasons that will be discussed below (see section ‘Social phobia and its consequences’). The growing self-imposed isolation, the profoundly changed atmosphere at the court, the lack of informed and competent staff capable of taking effective political or important military action in times of crisis limited the King’s scope of action in the impending royal disaster of 1885/6.

The constitutional and psychiatric basis of Ludwig II’s deposition

The psychiatrist Bernhard von Gudden (1824–86) was commissioned by the future regent, Prince Luitpold (King Ludwig II’s uncle), to write a psychiatric assessment of the King’s mental health and his capacity to govern. Three other psychiatrists, who were all members of the Bavarian civil service, co-signed the assessment without changing a single word of it. On 8 June 1886 von Gudden declared that Ludwig II suffered from a ‘far advanced stage’ of ‘incurable’ mental illness and rated him incapable of ruling. Von Gudden’s description of the King’s mental state, on the basis of which he judged his incapacity to rule, ran as follows:

… His Majesty’s mental powers have already deteriorated to such a degree that he lacks all and every insight, his thinking is in total contradiction with reality, his actions are not free, and in his delusion of absolute power, solitary as a result of his self-inflicted isolation, – he is teetering like a blind man without guidance on the verge of a precipice. ²

Von Gudden diagnosed paranoia and primary insanity, claiming that the illness had already persisted ‘over a great many years’. ³

The constitutional basis for establishing a caretaker reign on the grounds of a monarch’s incapacity to rule was provided by Part II §11 of the Constitution of the Kingdom of Bavaria, proclaimed on 26 May 1818:

If the Monarch should be hindered from exercising the rights and powers of the government for any reason and this hindrance should last for more than a year, and he himself has not made provisions for such a circumstance, or be incapable of doing so, the same lawful regency shall occur as would if the successor to the crown were under age. This shall take place with the approval of the Estates, who shall be notified of the cause of the hindrance. (quoted from Albrecht, 2003: 388–9)

The reign of King Ludwig II ended with his legal disqualification and dethronement on 10 June 1886. Three days later, he and von Gudden were found drowned in Lake Starnberg near Munich (von Böhm, 1824; Wöbking, 1986).

Myths about Ludwig II in the psychiatric and historical literature

A few days after the King’s death, Dr von Mundy (1886), a renowned Viennese psychiatrist, gave a detailed account of the events and the psychiatric assessment in the Wiener Medizinische Wochenschrift. In another article, which soon appeared in the Journal of Mental Science (Ireland, 1886), the facts were copied from von Mundy’s account. Since von Gudden’s psychiatric assessment did not provide any history of the King’s illness, Ireland constructed the course of illness, and claimed, without offering any proof, that the King had ordered individuals to be murdered and three ministers to be executed. This early publication already started spreading the myths, which were later to outnumber reliable historical knowledge.

After a wealth of publications – the latest bibliography (Hanslik and Wagner, 1986) counted a total of 2781 – Hay (1977) stated in Psychological Medicine that Ludwig II had suffered from schizophrenia throughout his reign. He further claimed, contrary to historical evidence, that Ludwig, an eccentric, romantic idealist, had blocked the proper workings of the government, and had left unsigned or lost government papers. These are just two examples of how tales about King Ludwig II were concocted out of fantasy.

Psychiatrists have applied a great variety of diagnoses to Ludwig II: von Gudden diagnosed paranoia in 1886; Hagen, who had co-signed von Gudden’s assessment without modifying it, later diagnosed ‘a mixture of madness, moral insanity and folly’ (Wöbking, 1986: 331); Biermann (1973) a syphilitic disease of the brain and its meninges; Hay (1977) schizophrenia; Schmidbauer and Kemper (1986) a narcissistic personality; von Zerssen (2010) ‘imperial madness’; and Hacker, Seitz and Förstl (2007), Förstl, Immler, Seitz and Hacker (2008) and Förstl (2011) a neurodegenerative disorder (frontotemporal brain atrophy = Morbus Pick) and schizotypal personality.

Soon after his death, legends about Ludwig II’s life started developing, and his image in history became romanticized in recollection. These developments have been aided and abetted by a policy of secrecy adopted by the King’s family immediately after his death, and also by his unusual lifestyle, mysterious end and magnificent ‘fairy-tale’ castles of Neuschwanstein, Linderhof and Herrenchiemsee, located in beautiful alpine scenery. Today, King Ludwig II and his castles are a great tourist attraction in Bavaria. In 2010 the Castle of Neuschwanstein had almost 1.35 million visitors (Kratzer, 2011).

The research project

In part stimulated by the 125th anniversary of Ludwig II’s death, a series of records from the archives were recently published for the first time, while others have undergone a more critical scrutiny. These efforts have produced new insights into several areas of historical interest on the topic (e.g. Botzenhart, 2004; Hacker, 2002, 2011a, 2011b; Häfner, 2005, 2008; Merta, 2005; Müller, 2006; Petzet, 1986, 2011; Petzet and Neumeister 2005; Sommer, 2009).

Following up on results from our preliminary study (Häfner, 2005), we embarked on an interdisciplinary research project ⁴ at the Heidelberg Academy of Sciences and Humanities. The aims of the project were:

We will contrast our results with selected traditional views.

The following assessment was given by D. Albrecht, a prominent Bavarian historian, in the official handbook of Bavarian history: ‘… because of his illness the King [was] certainly not capable of ruling … in an era requiring most difficult political decisions and characterized by socioeconomic upheaval, Bavaria had to go without a king capable of taking action.’ (Albrecht, 2003: 394). But the truth is that in Ludwig II’s reign, at least after the Franco-German 1870/1 war, the Kingdom of Bavaria fared quite well in both economic and cultural terms, in part even slightly better than comparable German monarchies at that time (Botzenhart, 2004; Götschmann, 2010; Krauss, 2011).

Gottfried von Böhm (1845–1926), the author of a carefully researched and reliable biography of Ludwig II, had worked as a young civil servant at the King’s Cabinet Secretariat. He pointed out that the question whether the King was genuinely mentally ill could only be established conclusively by a competent psychiatrist having access to all the necessary information (von Böhm, 1924; see also Botzenhart, 2004). Many historians have not deemed themselves competent to challenge the correctness of von Gudden’s assessment. This is one of the reasons why numerous authors still continue to adhere to the view that Ludwig II was mentally ill (e.g. Albrecht, 2003; Förstl, 2011; Hacker et al., 2007; Hippius and Steinberg, 2007; Nedopil, 2007; von Zerssen, 2010). Another factor making an objective judgement difficult is the limited access to important historical records.

Writing that ‘a verification of the testimonies … collected 38 years ago is not currently permitted’, von Böhm (1924: 647) referred to the restricted access to the Secret Archives of the House of Wittelsbach. This policy still continues today (Häfner, 2008; Rumschöttel, 2011), ⁵ and affected our studies. In the first part of our research (2003–4), the head of the House of Wittelsbach, Franz Duke of Bavaria, granted us access to all the records from the Secret House Archives we wished to study. The presentation of our first results in a lecture in May 2004 (Häfner, 2005) attracted enormous interest, not only in professional journals, but also in newspapers throughout Germany and Europe (e.g. The Times of 30 June 2004). We then expanded the objectives of our research, funded by two leading German research foundations (the Fritz Thyssen and the Robert Bosch Foundations). Again, we applied for permission to obtain further records from the Secret House Archives, but were denied access to any material concerning the King’s deposition.

We then undertook a comprehensive search for relevant records in the Bavarian State Archives and the State Library, as well as in other state, municipal and private archives in Germany and abroad (see Appendix, after References).

Is there any indication that the King suffered from mental illness?

Before we can reliably judge whether Ludwig II was mentally ill, it is necessary to take a look at his behaviour in the main areas of his life.

The majestic, picturesque castles built by Ludwig seem to have prompted some of his contemporaries to think of him as truly mentally disordered. Three days after the King’s death, three members of the Lower House of the Bavarian Parliament visited the Castle of Herrenchiemsee. Because of its ‘supernatural pomp and glory’ (Merkt, 1987: 33) they considered it a product of its builder’s disordered mind. Dr F.C. Müller, von Gudden’s assistant, who accompanied him to arrest the King, described Neuschwanstein Castle because of its ‘enormous number of pinnacles and towers the fruit of a disordered brain’ (Müller, 1929: 774).

However, the same historistic style that Ludwig II so superbly adopted to lend expression to his monarchist visions and to illustrate Richard Wagner’s world of myths can also be found in many other residences and castles of that period in Germany, e.g. the Lichtenstein Castle of the dukes of Württemberg-Urach and the reconstructed Hohenzollern Castle of the Prussian royal family. They were designed as monuments to the kings’ power and glory in that late period of monarchs still dreaming of absolutism (Hojer, 1986). Consequently, the architectural style of Ludwig’s castles hardly qualifies as evidence for his mental illness (Feldbauer, 2011; Petzet, 1986; Petzet and Neumeister, 2005).

Franz Merta (2005), a Bavarian historian, analysed in detail the lists of the King’s signatures from the Bavarian ministries of the time and the records of his stays at the Munich Residence, castles, inns and alpine huts. We also checked the archives of the Bavarian ministries for eight selected years and confirmed Merta’s findings. Like Merta, we checked orders issued by the King to his ministers, comments noted on drafts, questions and suggestions. We conclude that Ludwig II fulfilled his administrative duties correctly, reasonably and without any great delay. For the Bavarian Ministry of Internal Affairs alone, he worked through 500–800 documents per year on average and did so considerably more promptly than his predecessor, King Max II.

Summarizing Ludwig’s reign, Merta (2005: 165) concludes:

The itinerary provides deep insight into the way Ludwig II led his life … . [It gives the impression of] an extremely pronounced sense of order and creative energy as well as an underlying attitude of exceptionally strong perseverance … . From his early to his later years there is, against every expectation, a development discernible from initially greater spontaneity to an increasingly strict, clear and comprehensive organization.

As late as 3 and 6 June 1886, 16 government documents were submitted to the King. Having worked on them and signed them, he returned them on 8 June 1886, one day before his deposition (Merta, 2005). After the King’s death, the Minister of Finance, von Riedel, declared before the ‘Special Commission’ (Commission of Inquiry) of the Chamber of Imperial Councillors that neither he nor the Cabinet Secretary Dr Schneider, who was in the King’s service until 1 June 1886, had ever thought of the King to be mentally ill.

His Majesty had also had the ability to deal with all matters so competently, wisely and reasonably that one could not have any doubt. Not the slightest disruption in state affairs had occurred. They and all their colleagues could swear that until very recently the thought of His Majesty suffering from a mental illness had not crossed their minds. (Minutes of the meeting of the Special Commission of the Chamber of Imperial Councillors of 17/18 June 1886; quoted from Wöbking, 1986: 369)

In summary, Ludwig’s administrative activities until his final days do not provide any reliable evidence of his purported mental illness. He fulfilled his duties in this field meticulously and reliably. The same is true for his role in politics. Botzenhart (2004) concluded that, compared with other German monarchs of his time, Ludwig’s political achievements are to be judged above rather than below the average.

Ludwig II maintained a vast personal correspondence, e.g. with his mother, Queen Marie, with his governess Sibylle Meilhaus (Haasen, 1995), with Richard and Cosima Wagner (Schad, 1996, 2011; Strobel, 1936-39), with Tsar Marija Alexandrowna, with his nephew Prince Ferdinand of Bavaria, and Ferdinand’s wife, Maria de la Paz, Infanta of Spain. Much of this correspondence has been published. In addition, there are reports of extended conversations Ludwig conducted on serious topics with distinguished individuals, e.g. Eduard von Bomhard (Hacker, 1972) and Felix von Dahn (1895). Both the correspondence and the records of the conversations provide insight into the King’s intellectual horizon, his attitude to the world and to other people, as well as into his political views. For example, Adalbert Prince of Bavaria, son of Prince Ludwig Ferdinand, wrote:

My mother [Infanta Maria de la Paz] could not detect anything abnormal in his conversation, … . His somewhat grandiloquent letters provide no sign of a mental disorder. His enigmatic and generally very reserved nature also increased his aura of royal majesty in the eyes of common people, and this was very important to him. (Adalbert Prinz von Bayern, 1932: 113)

On 3 and 10 June 1886 (the latter was the day on which his deposition was proclaimed), Ludwig II wrote to Prince Ludwig Ferdinand perfectly sensible letters about his current situation.

Referring to Ludwig’s political correspondence, Imperial Chancellor Otto von Bismarck stated: ‘Until his very end I remained on good terms with him, exchanging letters quite frequently …’ (von Bismarck, 1898: 359). ‘The world is bound to essentially change its opinion about King Ludwig when … his political correspondence becomes available’ (von Bismarck, quoted from Memminger, 1933: 160). The widespread, deeply entrenched idea of an insane king incapable of reigning is contradicted by the fact that none of the letters or other authentic material we checked revealed any clear indication of symptoms of mental illness in a strict sense, such as cognitive impairment, hallucinations or other signs of psychosis.

A total of 244 predominantly intimate papers of the King dating from 1883–6, many of which were intended to be destroyed, were recently published from the Secret House Archives (Hacker, 2011b). Noted on these papers are orders concerning the daily routine, enquiries, commissions and Ludwig’s rebukes to his servants. Also included are a few strange punishment orders issued by the King, mainly for lower-ranking servants, such as deporting a valet to America or denying another servant milk for coffee for several days. According to Cabinet Secretary Schneider, these punishments were not really meant in earnest (von Böhm, 1924: 644) and, reportedly, none of them was ever put into practice (Hacker, 1972).

In his last years, beset by serious financial problems, Ludwig II repeatedly wrote orders for raising money, some perfectly sensible, but others rather strange. The King clearly feared the bankruptcy of his Privy Purse – and Prime Minister von Lutz expressly encouraged this fear – as well as the confiscation of his castles.

The material we examined also conveys the picture of a king who, in the last three years of his life, had a rather authoritarian manner even in his private dealings. His behaviour was at times crude and lacking proper distance. Entangled as he was in ever-changing homoerotic relationships with some of his courtiers, the King was also yearning for true affection, at times treating his partners extremely generously and amiably. The dignity had largely disappeared from his court. The intimate material published by Hacker (2011b) gives a rather one-sided picture of Ludwig’s inner life. There are no excerpts from his sentimental, affectionate letters to his long-standing homoerotic partners or from letters written to numerous persons with whom he maintained close relationships outside the homoerotic circle.

For a better understanding of the strange things going on at Ludwig II’s court in the last years of his life, it is important to bear in mind that – apart from a few exceptions such as Count Dürckheim, Ludwig’s aide-de-camp – all educated servants had already left the court, some of them expressly complaining about the unbearable conditions there, e.g. Cabinet Secretary von Ziegler (von Werthern’s letter of 30 Jan. 1883 to Count Kuno von Rantzau; see Möckl, 1972: 91).

Merta (1990) has published a critical edition of what is still left of the King’s diaries. Recorded in these volumes are encounters and events, such as climbing on mountain tops, and sentimental experiences of natural phenomena. Also noted there are desperate inner conflicts arising from recurrent, strong sexual impulses and ensuing lapses. They show a deeply religious person tormented by feelings of guilt after yielding to these impulses.

The King’s behaviour along with the testimonies of his inner life provide glimpses of his complex, and in various respects ambivalent, personality up to his final days, but no robust evidence of severe mental illness.

Initiating the King’s deposition

As mentioned above, the Bavarian Constitution of 1818 (Part II, §11) provided the legal basis for Ludwig II’s deposition. Similar provisions had been adopted by several other constitutional monarchies in Germany in the nineteenth century. This marked the beginning of the use of psychiatry, still a young medical discipline. Its tasks were: (1) to provide expert evidence on a monarch’s mental state and fitness to reign, and (2) to lock away the deposed monarch under psychiatric supervision. The deposed ruler could thus live in psychiatric internment instead of being prevented from returning to power by more cruel methods, e.g. death, banishment or imprisonment.

But the Constitution of 1818 did not include any provisions for who should initiate the process of deposing the monarch and appointing a regent. In a supplement to the Constitution, Max von Seydel (1884, 1886), a Munich-based university professor of state law, who had been requested to provide expertise on the issue, assigned this task to the future regent – in Ludwig II’s case, the childless King’s uncle, Prince Luitpold – and the Bavarian government. In this way, the family council was excluded, some members of which, e.g. the Austrian Empress Elisabeth, a Bavarian princess, strongly opposed the idea.

But Prince Luitpold could not initiate the process without involving the government. The ministers, whom the King had appointed and had long and reliably supported, were not willing to comply. In mid-July 1885, Prince Luitpold summoned Prime Minister von Lutz to ask him: ‘… whether the ministers did not object to the King’s behaviour that so seriously harmed both the dynasty and the state’ (von Böhm, 1924: 607). The ministers once again refused (von Böhm, 1924). However, von Lutz and the Minister of the Royal House and Foreign Affiars, von Crailsheim, soon changed their minds, probably for two reasons: (1) Prince Luitpold had assured them that they could keep their ministerial positions after the King was toppled, and (2) the ministers increasingly feared that sooner or later the King would call on them to solve his money problems. Indeed, in a letter of 29 August 1885, Ludwig II asked the Bavarian Minister of Finance, von Riedel, to help him ‘put his finances in order’ (Häfner, 2008: 476).

A key component of the process stipulated by the Constitution was to establish an incapacity to reign which would persist for more than a year. Since mental illness was assumed to be implied as the cause of such incapacity, a psychiatric expert was needed. After a search for a well-known psychiatrist willing to do the job, the Munich-based Professor of Psychiatry Bernhard von Gudden was selected, after other candidates had been rejected (Häfner, 2008). Von Gudden was a subject of the King, and, should the King be deposed, also of the future regent. He was subordinate to the government and a friend of the Prime Minister. Consequently, he was anything but independent! On 15 March 1886 von Gudden was chosen as a candidate by the Privy Council (Merkt, 1987); on 23 March he met for talks with von Lutz and the Minister of the Royal House, von Crailsheim. Von Gudden stated that he was ‘… quite certain … that His Majesty is inherently insane’ (Merkt, 1987: 122–3).

The deposition, incapacitation and psychiatric internment of King Ludwig II

Appointed regent on 9 June 1886, Prince Luitpold appointed a state commission headed by the Minister of the Royal House, Count von Crailsheim, to go to Neuschwanstein Castle and inform Ludwig II that he had been declared legally incapacitated and dethroned. After having lunch with Prince Luitpold, the commission left for Schwangau. As they appeared at the gates of Neuschwanstein Castle about 3 a.m., they were arrested by armed gendarmes who had come from Füssen, a nearby town, in response to the King’s request for support. The commission was taken to the nearby Hohenschwangau Castle and detained there in the servants’ quarters. On the same afternoon, however, the members of the commission were released and were able to return to Munich.

The next day, the psychiatrist von Gudden and his assistant Dr Müller together with five male nurses (Immler, 2011), equipped with chloroform and a straitjacket and accompanied by a police officer, were sent to Neuschwanstein Castle. The group was let in by a court servant (Mayr). Authorized by a short, legally inadequate handwritten letter (Gauweiler, 2007; Häfner, 2008; Immler, 2011), in which Prince Luitpold placed the King under von Gudden’s medical custody, von Gudden had the nurses arrest Ludwig II. He protested energetically, but in a composed manner, against having been assessed without an examination. He was then taken in a closed carriage to the Castle of Berg (some 90 km away from Neuschwanstein Castle), where two rooms had been prepared for him with the windows locked and the door-locks replaced with the type used at the Munich psychiatric asylum. Observation slits had been cut in the doors and all sharp knives removed. The King protested, but behaved in an appropriate and dignified manner, despite the extreme situation he was in.

The next day Ludwig II talked to several of those present at Berg, for example Professor von Gudden, Professor Grashey, Dr Müller, a civil servant (Zander) and a nurse (Mauder) (Häfner, 2008). No signs indicative of mental illness were observed by any of them. Having talked to the King, Dr Grashey, in the presence of witnesses at Berg, voiced doubts about the incurability of Ludwig’s illness: ‘In my opinion the King’s condition is not past saving’ (Hacker, 1972: 380), but von Gudden silenced him immediately.

Shortly before going for a walk with the King, von Gudden had sent a telegraph from Berg to Prime Minister von Lutz: ‘So far everything is fine here! … By the way, a personal examination has just confirmed the written evaluation!’ (Hacker, 1972: 389). But nobody had examined the King, and no such evidence could be drawn from the King’s behaviour (Häfner, 2008).

The deaths of Ludwig II and von Gudden

On the evening of 13 June 1886 Ludwig II had ordered von Gudden to take him for a walk in the park. Because of Ludwig’s risk of suicide, Dr Müller had sent a nurse after them, but von Gudden had sent him back, obviously believing that the King was sympathetic and subordinate to him.

When the two men did not return from their walk, the park was searched for them, and their bodies were found floating in shallow water (Wöbking, 1986). Von Gudden’s body, on which no post-mortem was conducted, showed a haematoma on the right temple, probably from a punch, a deep scratch in the face, a torn finger nail and signs of strangling on his neck. The King’s body showed no visible injuries. On the bottom of the lake there was a trail of larger footprints (the King’s) leading from the shore into the lake and a trail of smaller footprints (von Gudden’s) coming sideways from the shore towards the first trail. The site where the two trails met was extensively trampled as if from a fight. From this site, the larger footprints continued farther into the lake. Analysing the witnesses’ accounts and investigation files, Wöbking (1986) concluded that the King had waded into the lake with the intention of committing suicide. Von Gudden had followed him, trying to prevent him. Struggling free, the King had caused von Gudden the injuries described and had drowned him, and then he had drowned himself.

Were there post-mortem indications of mental illness?

On 15 June 1886, two days after the death, an autopsy was performed on the King’s body by Dr Rüdiger, Professor of Pathology at the University of Munich, assisted by Dr Rückert, Lecturer in Pathology, in the presence of numerous witnesses (Häfner, 2008).

Apart from slight scratches on Ludwig’s knees, probably from the body having been dragged along the lake bed, no other external injuries are recorded in the examination protocol. His body was 191 cm long, showed a very strong musculature and pronounced fat pads (chest circumference 103 cm, stomach circumference 120 cm). The examination also revealed a hernia inguinalis, treated by a bandage, on the right. The upper jaw was almost toothless; in the lower jaw there were four loose incisors and two cuspids, probably as a result of a chronic inflammatory periodontosis. As a consequence, Ludwig II can hardly have been able to eat any solid food in his last years (Hierneis, 2010), and his looks and his speech were impaired.

At a meeting of the ‘Special Commission’ of the Chamber of Imperial Councillors (Merkt, 1987), Dr Rüdiger was not invited to testify, but Bavaria’s Senior Medical Officer, Dr Kerschensteiner, interpreted a skull asymmetry showing a maximum difference of 0.8 cm (right larger than left) and single irregularities of the skull base as evidence for mental illness, according to B.A. Morel’s (1857) theory of degeneration (Wöbking, 1986). When the skull was opened at the post-mortem, a rather thin cranium was seen, and a few single flat exostoses, about the size of a pin head, particularly above the frontal areas of the brain. The longest of these flat exostoses had a length of 10 mm (frontally on the right). The meninges showed scarred alterations, thickening and adhesion formation especially in the dura and arachnoidea. Above the clearly thickened dura, which showed some kind of small knot formations, the bones of the cranial calotte were thinned, probably from pressure during growth. Underneath, the cortex showed small, sharply delineated, flat narrowing on a few spots, probably caused in the same way. The narrowing was concentrated particularly at the beginning of the second and the third frontal gyrus, at the medial end of the frontal central gyrus and in the intermediate section of the post-central furrow (record of the autopsy published, e.g., in Wöbking, 1986: 372ff.).

On the basis of the brain slices taken, grey matter in the areas affected by the knot formation of the dura was described as ‘somewhat narrow’, but not disconnected. No signs of a general or locally accentuated brain atrophy could be found and, hence, no evidence indicating a frontotemporal neurodegenerative process. Brain volume and configuration of the ventricles, plexus and the other sections of the brain were described as normal.

Looking for factors that might have caused the changes mentioned, we came to the conclusion (Häfner, 2005) that, at the age of seven months, Ludwig II had been infected by his wet-nurse, who had suffered from acute purulent meningitis (ascertained by autopsy) and died a few days later. She had been breastfeeding Ludwig, until she fell seriously ill (Hacker, 1972). According to the case-notes of Dr Gietl, ⁸ the King’s personal doctor, the baby, too, had developed high fever and fallen seriously ill, probably with meningitis, suffering not only the scarred alterations observed in the meninges, but also disturbed growth of the skull. After a long and severe illness the prince had recovered spontaneously, which, in the pre-antibiotic era, was not unusual for infants who developed the disease at an early age (Van de Beek et al., 2004). The resulting abnormalities probably also explained the severe bouts of headache that tormented Ludwig II throughout his life, and very likely also the sleep disturbances he experienced. Owing to the slightness of the changes during growth in the frontal brain and the plasticity of the infant brain (the ‘Kennard principle’, Kolk, 2000), the highly talented King’s mental powers had probably not been affected.

Was von Gudden’s psychiatric assessment correct in substance and form?

Gottfried von Böhm, Ludwig’s contemporary and his biographer, criticized the way material was collected for the psychiatric assessment. He said that the testimonies came from ‘uneducated’ or ‘poorly educated’ circles, from servants or persons who had fallen out of favour or been ‘persuaded’ (von Böhm, 1924: 646). Despite the unilateral nature of the evidence gathered and the dubious credibility of the witnesses, we subjected von Gudden’s psychiatric assessment to a careful scrutiny.

Von Gudden overrated the role of familial loading. Ludwig II’s brother, Prince (later King) Otto, suffered from general paralysis, a luetic brain disorder. It tends to progress gradually, show more or less acute stages of illness, finally leading to severe paralytic dementia. It is not a hereditary disorder (Scheid, 1984). Ludwig’s aunt Alexandra, who had been treated in vain by C.F.W. Roller (1802–78) at the Illenau asylum in Baden, suffered from an obsessive-compulsive disorder with a very severe washing compulsion.

Lack of space does not permit us to discuss in detail all the symptoms implicated. We limit ourselves to concluding that reliable evidence was not found for delusions, or for hallucinations or cognitive impairment. What von Gudden, with some doubt, had classified as hallucinations – hearing non-existent noises and meaningless human voices in the castle – were probably illusions. In a spacious castle still under construction it would not have been unusual for an anxious person to believe he was hearing things, especially in the dark. Adequate professional knowledge on these phenomena already existed in those days (Mayer, 1869).

In his report von Gudden failed to provide information on the history of the purported mental illness. This was criticized by Dr von Mundy in 1886. To obtain adequate information, von Gudden would have had to consult the King’s doctors, who had known Ludwig for a long time, but he did not do this.

None of the characteristics listed by von Gudden supported the assumption of a severe mental illness, judged either by the standards of those days or current knowledge. Our evaluation of the psychiatric information therefore yielded the same result as the assessment of Ludwig’s behaviour and functioning in his various domains of life. Ludwig’s strange behaviour, especially in private, and his financially ruinous building activities do not qualify as genuine symptoms of a psychosis or some other severe mental illness. The King’s risk behaviour, and especially his carelessness in financial matters which led to the accumulation of huge debts, were really personality traits. The same is true for his arrogance and self-importance, as well as his peculiar homoerotic behaviour.

Von Gudden’s psychiatric assessment was marred by the following formal weaknesses:

Who initiated the process of the King’s incapacitation and dethronement?

Ludwig II was not the first ruler from the Wittelsbach dynasty who ran into debt for building oversized castles. On 1 July 1834 King Ludwig I, Ludwig II’s grandfather and another large-scale builder, had adopted the law on ‘the establishment of a permanent civil list’. This law stipulated that the King of Bavaria had to cover all his expenses, ranging from maintaining his court to financing the construction of castles, from his income from the royal property and the regular funds allotted by the state (appanage; 0.23 million marks annually since 1877). In addition, starting on 25 September 1873, Ludwig II’s Privy Purse received 270,000 marks annually (300,000 marks, minus 30,000 as a commission for Duke Holnstein) from Prince Bismarck’s Guelph fund (Heym, 1986; Hüttl, 1986). This fund was produced from the property of the Kings of Hanover, sequestrated by Bismarck in 1866. Ludwig II also used the entailed estate (Fideikommiss) set up for his mentally disabled brother, Prince Otto, with annual payments amounting to 250,000 marks.

The debts Ludwig II incurred were only at his own expense or that of the royal family. Ludwig’s Privy Purse had been in debt since 1877, due to the growing expenses for building, decorating and furnishing the castles, and for paying for the plays and operas performed for the King (alone because of his ‘fear of people’) – by 1885, a total of 209 productions (Schad, 2003). By 1882 the debt amounted to around 5 million marks, and by early 1884 to 8.25 million marks (Philippi, 1960). The Court Secretary at that time, Pfister, succeeded in persuading Chancellor Bismarck to donate another one million marks to the King.

When it became known that the King was planning to build a new castle in the mountains, Falkenstein, starting in 1882, and soon a small Chinese palace too, his presumptive successors to the throne, Prince Luitpold and his son Ludwig (later King Ludwig III of Bavaria), started to look for ways of preventing Ludwig II from accumulating further debt. In 1884 the loyal Finance Minister, von Riedel, organized for the King a bank loan of 7.5 million marks over a period of 16.5 years at an interest rate of 5 per cent (Möckl, 1972). Prince Ludwig tried in vain to prevent this loan by turning to a friend of his on the board of directors of the Bavarian Hypotheken- und Wechselbank (Müller W, 2006). In the loan agreement, Prince Luitpold and his sons, Ludwig and Albrecht, had to sign a declaration that they guaranteed the loan. In fact, it took until 1902 for the Wittelsbachs to pay back that loan, facilitated by the share Ludwig’s heirs had in the royalties from Richard Wagner’s operas, secured by an agreement the King had struck with the composer.

By 1885 the debt had grown by a further 6 million marks, and finally amounted to 14 million marks. The King was desperate to organize new loans (Hacker, 1972). Bismarck told him to turn to the Lower House of the Bavarian Parliament for help, but this was not feasible, because the process of dethronement was well under way. Had the protagonists backed down at this point, they would have run the risk of being charged with high treason.

At the end of 1885 Ludwig’s Privy Purse was legally suspended, which prevented him from placing new orders. Ludwig became desperate. He complained that he could not live without being able to complete his castles and he threatened suicide and emigration (Häfner, 2005, 2008).

Social phobia and its consequences

By the time Ludwig reached adulthood, his considerable childhood shyness had grown into a social phobia, associated with fears of being rejected, condemned and despised. Before festive dinners and other social functions, the King’s fear of being exposed grew into panic. He frequently behaved in a way typical of social phobia, by avoiding occasions that caused such anxiety. So the King withdrew increasingly from his family and the important people of his kingdom. He refused to take part in the social life of the capital. In contrast, his intimate partners and his relationships with artists, writers and theatre people were not associated with anxiety. His homoerotic behaviour, which was stigmatized in those days, and loss of teeth probably reinforced his tendency to isolate himself.

Another personality trait of the King that should not be ignored was his desire for dominance. As already mentioned, this manifested itself in arrogant behaviour and an exaggeration of his royal dignity. He was sometimes conceited and snobbish even towards his close relatives. Such behaviour caused considerable discord between the King and his presumptive successors, Princes Luitpold and Ludwig (Botzenhart, 2004; Häfner and Sommer, 2011). It is reasonable to assume that this might have been an additional motive contributing to Ludwig’s dethronement.

At first, the King’s homoerotic partners came from the nobility and educated circles, but later they were uneducated members of the court staff. This led to a loss of qualified civil servants and finally to the radical change of atmosphere at the court. Ludwig II took a great risk in starting to sexually abuse young members of the ‘Chevaulegers’, a Bavarian elite troop on duty at the court. The Bavarian War Minister, Maillinger, resigned against the King’s will in April 1885, because he could not reconcile himself with the King’s wishes. Prince Luitpold, Inspector General of the Bavarian army, was left solely responsible for guarding the army’s reputation. Although we could not find any evidence for Prince Luitpold’s behaviour in this context, it is reasonable to assume that this matter played a role in the efforts to dethrone the King.

What were the motives for the King’s incapacitation and deposition?

In summary, the motives for Ludwig II’s dethronement were most probably:

As we have tried to demonstrate, there was no reliable evidence supporting the assumption that Ludwig II was mentally ill in the true sense of the word. In private the King showed behaviours that could be described as personality disorders. But these deviating behaviours cannot be interpreted with certainty as indicative of impaired cognitive functioning, especially of an impairment that would have made him incapable of taking care of his own matters.

On 10 June 1886 – predated 9 June – Ludwig II wrote an appeal, which his Adjutant Duke Dürckheim sent off. However, because the King’s post was inspected and the Bavarian press censured (Wittmann, 2011), it was published only in one Bavarian newspaper, the Bamberger Zeitung of 11 June 1886, which was immediately confiscated, and in newspapers in Basel, Berlin and Russia. The first sentences ran as follows:

I, Ludwig II, King of Bavaria, feel obliged to issue the following appeal to my beloved Bavarian people and the whole of the German nation: Prince Luitpold intends to seize the regency of my country against my will, and my government has deceived my beloved people by spreading untrue information on the state of my health and is plotting acts of high treason. I feel, in body and mind, like every other monarch does, and the planned treason will take place so suddenly that I have no time to take measures … against it. (quoted from Müller, 2006: 260–1)

This appeal gives a fairly accurate description of the events and the intentions of the King’s adversaries.

The fatal consequences

On 12 June 1886 the King, escorted by psychiatric nurses and the psychiatrists von Gudden and Müller was taken to the Castle of Berg, where he was kept in the two rooms prepared for his detention. Labelled mentally ill and incapable of reigning, Ludwig was deprived of the dignity and power of his throne. Declared legally incapacitated, he was stripped of the right to take care of his personal matters. In psychiatric internment he had lost his freedom and his privacy, and he had no realistic prospects for his future. From an existential death of this kind, suicide is not far away. Ludwig had already tried in vain to obtain poison from his court servants and barbers. In view of this situation, Wöbking’s (1986) explanation of the events leading up to the King’s and von Gudden’s deaths sounds plausible.