Overview
Neuschwanstein, the most famous of Ludwig II’s castles, is built on a spectacular mountaintop site where, legend has it, the castle of the medieval troubadour and lyric poet Tannhauser once stood. Today it is a smaller version of Neuschwanstein that is the trademark castle of Disney world in Florida. It was also used as the setting for the fantasy-world kingdom in the film-version of Ian Fleming’s ‘Chitty-Chitty Bang Bang’. Nowadays you are more likely to see hang glider’s swooping overhead, rather than magical cars as their occupants enjoy what must be one of the most spectacular aerial views in the world.
The castle itself is built of cold grey granite on a spur of rock in the style of a medieval knight’s fortress. It takes its name from the traditional name of the region, Schwangau or region of the Swan. Neuschwanstein therefore means new swan stone or rock and this is reflected in the interior decoration which shows almost obsessive repetition of the swan motif. Taps (faucets) and even a flower vase are shaped like swans, whilst everywhere you can see tapestries and paintings depicting the story of the Swan Knight Lohengrin. Real swans used to swim on the Alpsee behind Hohenschwangau Castle and the young Ludwig often used to come down to the lake to feed them where he was living in the castle reconstructed by his father Maximillan II on the ruins of the ancient seat of the Knights of Schwangau.
The new castle of Neuschwanstein was built because of Ludwig’s desire to escape the stifling influence of his mother Queen Marie, without giving up the wonderful setting and scenery of the Bavarian Alps, and also to realize his romantic dreams of creating a palace dedicated to the ideals of medieval German myths and legends which were the inspiration for many of the operas of his close friend and mentor Richard Wagner.
To design the castle, Ludwig II chose, as his father did for Hohenschwangau, a theatre designer by the name of Christian Janke, which accounts for its ‘dramatic’ appearance and the extravagance of its interior. Construction began in 1869 and by the time of the King’s death in 1886 the interior was still unfinished, although he did live there for a few short weeks. Meanwhile the King threw himself wholeheartedly into the expensive task of building this and other castles in order to escape the troubles of his kingdom, which was suffering the consequences of unwise and bloody conflict with the French, and the Prussians.
The rooms that were finished nonetheless show us the grand scale of the King’s imagination. Apart from the paintings telling the story of Lohengrin much of the decoration takes its inspiration from the 13th century Tannhauser legend that centres on the great poetical contest in Wartburg Castle. The spectacular Singer’s Hall, which occupies almost the entire 4th floor, is richly decorated with Medieval-style paintings, candelabras and chandeliers, and with its coffered ceiling has perfect acoustics, though Ludwig never heard Wagner’s music played here.
Neuschwanstein
Elsewhere you can see a dimly lit stalactite grotto with adjoining winter garden, again from the Tannhauser legend, an unfinished throne room with magnificent mosaic floor and Byzantine paintings of saintly Kings (only the throne is missing) and the King’s bed and which is covered by a carved wooden canopy that includes copies of all the principal cathedral spires and towers of southern Germany. Behind the castle is the impressive Pollatfall, a waterfall over which stretches the Marienbrucke, a bridge built by the M.A.N. engineering company, which now makes some of our touring buses. Ludwig came here at night to contemplate the castle silent and empty but for the lights in the Singer’s Hall.
In all, Ludwig lived here for only 102 days and it was here that a governmental commission sent from Munich finally arrested him.
Before dawn on June 10, 1886 they arrived at the castle to inform him that he was no longer King. His bizarre and reclusive behaviour together with the huge sums of money owed by Ludwig to the state of Bavaria caused the council to act. Neuschwanstein alone cost $3 million, a colossal sum, and at the time of his death he owed the state some 21 million marks. They had decided to place Bavaria under the regency of Ludwig’s Uncle Leopold, and Ludwig himself was to be incarcerated and watched.
The temperamental King reacted predictably. The commissioners, he announced, should be treated as traitors, their tongues should be cut out, and they should be whipped and scalped. The threats were in his accustomed excessive vein, but in the end, the commissioners left, untouched.
The next night they were back, however, and the King was not so handsomely treated. This time there were armed men accompanying the commissioners, ready to take Ludwig away with them forcibly to Schlossberg, an old family castle near Munich on the Lake of Starnberg.
When it was clear there was no escape, Ludwig first requested poison, which was denied, then a key to his castle tower so he could throw himself from it. But the key was denied, too, and at four in the morning Ludwig had his last glimpse of the castle he had loved so well. He looked longingly back as the coach rode off into the breaking day.
Ludwig II
The legend that surrounds the life and death of Ludwig II, the fairy-tale King of Bavaria, stems largely from the conflicting accounts of his mental stability and the magnificent extravagant monuments he left behind him. His castles now represent a huge source of income and bring valuable publicity to the state of Bavaria. The flood of annual visitors has long since paid off any debts, and yet the mystery continues. Certainly no one is in any hurry to explain his disappearance or to settle the argument as to his true temperament whilst they can be exploited so profitably. But was he in fact as mad as a hatter, or merely a sensitive misunderstood Romantic?
Ludwig II was born on August 25, 1845 in Nymphenburg Castle to the Crown Prince Maximilian and his wife Marie, a Prussian princess. Thundering cannons and resounding church bells greeted the birth, which was witnessed through a special “birth mirror” by all the important ministers of the court. This large glass, which can still be seen in the Palace was so positioned that the assembled ministers could view the delivery without being in the room and thereby confirm that this was the true heir to the throne and not some infant usurper. Did they suspect the queen had been hiding cushions up her front for nine months? Three years later Ludwig’s only brother was born, and received the name of Otto.
The two boys were brought up very strictly and spent much of their time in splendid isolation at Hohenschwangau Castle Ludwig especially loved the mountains and the forests and was much influenced by the wall decorations of Hohenschwangau which offered his first introduction to the rich sagas and legends of medieval Germany. Certainly he knew little or nothing of the responsibilities of running a kingdom and was much more interested in nature and the arts than in government.
At the age of 16 he encountered for the first time the music of the German composer Richard Wagner when he attended a performance of the opera ‘Lohenqrin” It was two years before he met Wagner though Ludwig was already convinced that they would be friends as he saw the story of the Swan Knight as the story of his own home at Hohenschwangau. It was the realization of all his wildest romantic dreams.
Ludwig became King at the age of 18½ after the death of his father in 1864. At first he took his duties seriously, but had no experience and precious little good advice to help him out. One of the first steps he took, however, was to send for Richard Wagner who at the time was extremely unpopular on account of his Republican views. A close friendship developed between the two men and Ludwig quickly became a generous patron to the composer who could hardly believe his good fortune. Whether or not there was more between them than mere friendship has never been revealed, but it is perhaps significant that Wagner was popularly known in Munich as ‘Lolus’ or the male equivalent of Lola Montez, the lover of Ludwig I, an Irish opportunist who came to Bavaria posing as a Spanish dancer. She quickly worked her way into the confidence and then the bed of the bewitched King and set him on the course to ruin with demands for expensive presents. She would sit on the balcony of the Residenz in Munich eating chocolates and sipping champagne, just to infuriate the outraged ministers of the government. Wagner had a similar control over the royal purse strings, and it was only when presented with the ultimatum of losing Wagner or his kingdom that Ludwig finally agreed to send his friend away to Switzerland where he sponsored him in rather more discrete fashion in the Tribschen house on Lake Lucerne. Before he was forced to leave, the two had been almost inseparable and Wagner came several times to Hohenschwangau where you can still see the piano he played for the King’s benefit.
Though now separated, the friendship showed little sign of flagging, and Ludwig would write letters, whilst gazing at a bust of Wagner, which were addressed to “my onetime friend, faithful unto death, who is always with me, who alone gives me courage and determination.
Ludwig, who was tall handsome and very striking, showed little interest in the opposite sex. He was engaged briefly to his cousin Princess Sophie Charlotte, the daughter of Prince Max of Bavaria, but he called the whole thing off only days before the ceremony. The only interest they had commonly shared was a love for Wagner’s music.
By contrast Ludwig engaged in close friendship with members of artistic circles in Munich. In particular he made a secret visit to Switzerland in 1881 to see Wagner, travelling in the company of the handsome young actor Joseph Kainz. Ludwig describes in his diary how they spent the night together engaged in intimate and precious conversation! Need one say more?
Wagner himself was obviously glad of the attentions of his generous patron and quickly swallowed his Republican views when it became expedient to do so. He describes the King as being “noble and brilliant … magnificent and soulful” but feared for his safety and therefore his own income. In private, he pronounced Ludwig to be quite unmusical, and gifted only with poetical sensitivity, yet seemed quite happy to exploit his good-will. Certainly their closeness was the cause of the political tension that saw Ludwig withdrawing more and more from public life proclaiming, “0 how futile is this world! How miserable, how cruel so many men. Oh if only this world lay behind me!”
So, Ludwig threw himself into building as a distraction from the unpleasant realities of life. In the course of twenty years Neuschwanstein, Linderhof and Herrenchlemsee sprang up and plans were far advanced for a fourth castle to be known as Falkenstein when he was finally arrested. Add to this the Moorish Kiosk and Venus Grotto at Linderhof together with plans for Indian and Chinese palaces and it was small wonder that a hard-pressed government sought to have him removed.
Ludwig’s behaviour became more eccentric as time went on. He rarely appeared in Munich and spent his time taking dramatic torch-lit sleigh-rides through the snowy mountains and watching from the Marienbrucke as 1,200 candles were lit one by one in the castle of Neuschwanstein. He avoided the company of all but his closest advisors and preferred to dine in splendid isolation. “I want to remain forever an enigma to myself and to others” he confessed.
Meanwhile, back in Munich, a conspiracy was afoot, headed by the Minister President Lutz to have the King declared insane, deposed and then replaced by his compliant uncle, Prince Luitpold. Otto had already been declared unfit to rule, and there was a history of mental instability in the family. However, the government’s case was weakened by false witnesses giving conflicting accounts and unclear evidence. But such was the feeling against the King that he was declared insane without being examined and a commission was sent to Neuschwanstein to have him arrested. Ludwig, unaware of the impending disaster, was locked in his castle reading his favourite Schiller plays and bemoaning the fact that he was never given the talent of artistic expression. His fury when he discovered the plot was not sufficient to prevent the council from arresting him and escorting him to Schloss Berg on the Starnberg Lake.
It was midmorning on June 12, 1886 when Ludwig arrived under armed guard at Starnberg. The night had been arduous, and the ride from Neuschwanstein understandably depressing. His spirits were hardly raised as walking about the castle; he saw that the locks had been taken off all the doors and peepholes cut into the doors so he could be spied upon.
He said nothing to his captors. He quietly ate his dinner that evening and went to bed. He was up early the next day and suggested a walk with one of the physicians to keep an eye on him. Neither Louis nor the doctor ever returned. A second doctor, disturbed by the length of their absence when morning turned into afternoon, afternoon into evening, went looking for them.
On the shore of the nearby Starnberg Lake he found the doctor’s hat and umbrella, the King’s hat and his cloak fastener. The sand at the water’s edge had been trampled. Clearly there had been a fight, but there was no sign of the participants. Searchers in a boat later found the two men’s bodies. Was the King escaping? Was his cousin Elizabeth of Austria across the lake trying to help him? No one will ever know which death was murder, and which suicide. Or did the pair, mad King and state doctor, simply murder each other? A memorial cross can now be found in the Starnberg Lake at the spot where Ludwig’s body was found, but the most potent and enduring memorial to the man that Verlaine described as ‘The one true King, in this century when Kings do so little’, must surely be his magnificent extraordinary castles. Perhaps if he had been born 200 yrs earlier he would not have suffered the same cruel fate.
Hohenschwangau
Nowadays the castle is still privately owned and administered by the Wittelsbach family, who also still own Nymphenburg. Both were fully paid for at the time of Ludwig’s arrest and therefore could not be seized as assets of the state. Part of the castle is still inhabited but the most important rooms, including the second floor music room where Wagner played the piano for Ludwig, are on view to the public.
Linderhof
Linderhof, the smallest of Ludwig’s castles, was the only one in which he lived for any length of time, and precisely because he kept his dreams on a smaller scale, he was able to enjoy the extravagant and exotic designs which were realized in the palace and grounds. In contrast to his father Maximilian II, he regarded the Bavarian constitutional monarchy as an intolerable contradiction to his idea of absolute rule; so he defiantly decided to build an architectural monument to it on the island of Herrenchiemsee towards Salzburg. But it was more a gesture than a coherent decision, and the smaller “royal villa” at Linderhof, built in the King’s favourite Graswang Valley became a more practical retreat. Here he felt himself to be the “Sun King” and everywhere he set up memorials to Louis XIV the inspiration for much of his building and his ideas about what a King should be. Even the outward appearance of the palace recalls the Trianons at Versailles.
Ludwig chose this as the site for his most intimate creation, because he often used to come here as a child to the hunting lodge of his father King Max II. The site used to belong to the Old Ettal Monastery a few miles away and the name derives from an ancient Linden tree, which still stands in the grounds. The palace was quickly built between 1874 and 1878 once again based on flamboyant designs supplied by stage designer Christian Janke and Frank Seitz, Director of the Munich Court Theatre.
Inside Ludwig saw to it that each of the rooms was decorated as lavishly as the rapidly emptying royal purse would allow. Gold stucco, minute embroidery, huge chandeliers, pink silk, vast Oriental carpets and endless mirrors create an illusion of contrived opulence. Louis XIV shares equal billing with the strutting peacock as inspiration for the palace. Perhaps the most memorable innovation at Linderhof is to be found in the King’s dining room. A marble-top table, following the inspiration of certain prototypes designed in France in the 18th century, can be lowered by means of levers to the ground floor and then raised again loaded down with food. Thus the King could dine alone in splendid isolation without even being disturbed by servants.
Out in the grounds Ludwig gave full rein to his wildest dreams. Inspired by Wagner’s operas he had constructed a copy of the Venus Grotto, scene of the first act of Tannhauser. It was originally designed for opera performances but poor acoustics and the problems of fitting a typically huge Wagnerian cast into such a small space proved too great. Instead Ludwig would come here to be rowed on the underground lake in a gilded shell boat, whilst his servants operated the coloured lights which changed the grotto from red to pink to blue.
Elsewhere in the grounds Ludwig put up the Moorish kiosk that he bought from the Berlin railroad magnate Bethel Henry Strousberg. It was rebuilt and modified so that Ludwig could come here to play the Oriental potentate. He would lounge on the fabulous peacock throne, sipping strong Turkish coffee and puffing away at a hubble-bubble pipe. Small wonder that whatever grasp he had of reality quickly began to slip away.
The rest of the gardens are English style and informal, apart from the Renaissance style cascade and fountains behind the palace that seem to be inspired by the Villa d’Este in Tivoli. Several of the figures in the fountains have recently been regilded at great cost to the Bavarian state that acquired the palace on Ludwig’s death.
Oberammergau
When the plague was felling all of Europe in the seventeenth century, the 600 odd residents of Oberammergau felt sure they were going to be able to keep it out by building a circle of fires around the village that no outsider would dare pass through, as it was travellers who carried the disease from one village to the next. And indeed, no outsider did enter, but a villager who left and returned brought the disease back with him. Within a month there were eighty-four deaths. The frantic populace then gathered and promised God that if He would end the plague in their village, they would enact a play of the passion of Christ every ten years ever afterward.
Miraculously the plague stopped. The people of Oberammergau, except for the years of the Franco-Prussian War and World War II, have performed the Passion Play every decade since 1634, living up to their part of the bargain.
In 1870 Mad Ludwig II was among these who attended the play. He was so delighted with his reception that he had a giant marble crucifix made in Munich for the villagers. It was so heavy that railway tracks had to be laid from Munich to Oberammergau so that it could be brought to its destination. It now stands above the village.
The plague had been the scourge of Europe for many centuries when it struck once again in 1632-3. Unsanitary living conditions helped fuel the terrible disease, which was carried by fleas that thrived on rats, and was particularly dangerous during the hot summer months. Although only 55% of those afflicted actually died, during the most serious outbreaks, such as the Black Death of 1347-48, as much as one quarter of the population of Europe died. All kinds of remedies were tried though none were successful. Pungent herbs were burned in the room where the sick person lay, as were leather and horn. Apothecaries prescribed juniper, aloe, wormwood, rosemary and thyme. Amulets containing powdered unicorn’s horn were particularly prized as protection against the plague.
So it was perhaps with little hope but a lot of faith that the villagers of Oberammergau prayed with all their strength for the miracle, which finally happened.
The Passion play itself is an expression of their faith. It consists of several basic elements put together to tell the story of Christ’s entry into Jerusalem, arrest, trial, execution and triumph over death, commented on by a huge chorus and highlighted by tableaux from the Old Testament foreseeing Christ’s coming. It takes its inspiration from the Medieval Mystery Plays and its basic message is that Christ can save us from sin just as He saved Oberammergau from the plague. From the start the text was deeply anti-Semitic and it has had to be revised on several occasions to allow it to fit in with modern feelings, particularly in the aftermath of the Nazi holocaust.
The text is, of course, performed in German, but translations are freely available into several major languages. The auditorium of the Passionspielhaus is covered but the stage remains open to the elements and this allows easy access for the huge cast which includes most of the villagers together with various horses, dogs and sheep. Because the play lasts all day and the roles are therefore extremely arduous it is necessary to have two casts which perform alternately Anyone who has to be crucified four times a week, needs to be pretty fit: Just before the play it is possible to see a fair number of middle-aged men walking the streets of Oberammergau, sporting beards and long hair which they have grown especially for their roles. Tickets are hard to come by and though they are often on sale at the door when a performance is not sold out, it is impossible to reserve a seat for the play without first booking two nights accommodation in one of the neighbouring villages. This policy has attracted a lot of criticism from people who see the villagers exploiting their religious devotion for financial purposes – something that was certainly not in the minds of the original instigators. Similarly competition for the most important roles of Christ, Judas, Mary Magdalene and Caiaphas is intense and not always friendly.
All in all the play which is traditionally performed once every ten years contains patchy acting, nonetheless easily compensated for by the spectacular set piece scenes of Palm Sunday and the Crucifixion, something along the lines of a low-budget Cecil B. Demille film.
Apart from the play, the town is justly famous for its fine woodcarving shops which feature locally made products ranging from Nutcracker dolls to Virgin and Child. There are plenty of places in Oberammergau to buy these things, particularly on the square where the buses park next to the Passion Play Theatre. Many of the houses also sport mural paintings telling tales from German legend. In particular a house you will see when arriving from Garmisch features the story of Little Red Riding Hood or Rotkappchen as she is known in Germany.
Oberammergau is a pleasant stop on your way to or from Neuschwanstein and you can usually afford 1½ hour or so to allow them a quick visit.
Wieskirche
The “Church in the Meadow” with its picturesque setting amidst the flower-strewn fields of the Alpine foothills is one of the finest Rococo churches to be found anywhere in Europe.
Situated between Oberammergau and the Royal Castles at Fussen the Wieskirche’s remote location is explained by the fact that it was initially conceived as a pilgrimage church. Nowadays it is rather a point of pilgrimage for tourists to the Bavarian Alps, and is particularly famous as the masterpiece of Dominikus Zimmerman, the best-known architect of the Wessobrunn Abbey School.
The Benedictine Abbey of Wessobrunn was the driving force behind a reform of the arts inspired by the spiritual revival In the Catholic Church known as the Counter-Reformation. After Martin Luther began the movement for change which saw many people leaving the Catholic faith for the stricter and more austere ideas of the Protestants, the church of Rome sought to woo back those who had wandered away from the paths of righteousness by sponsoring artists, painters, and decorators to build beautiful new churches which would demonstrate its wealth and power.
So it was that in the 18th Century Dominikus Zimmerman, a graduate of the Wessobrunn School, set about designing a church dedicated to Christ scourged which would act as an inspiration to the Catholic faithful who visited it. Construction took place between 1746 and 1754, a very short period for the time, which accounts for the unity of style and the typically Rococo features to be found inside.
By contrast the exterior is extremely simple, and lacks decoration of any kind. Once inside, however, the pilgrim finds himself in a temple of light. The whitewashed walls of the lower part of the church represent the simplicity and ordinariness of human existence to be compared with the spectacular wonders of heaven represented on the ceiling. The cupola (dome) is decorated with an immense fresco employing trompe l’oeil effect to give an impression of upward movement also conveyed by the subject matter, which centres on ‘Christ Returned’, the ‘Gate to Paradise’ and the ‘Last Judgement before the judge has arrived.’ The whole is illuminated by shafts of light entering through ornate windows, whilst the upper walls become ever more colourful, ascending towards this fresco, loaded with an abundance of wood carvings, gold leaf and stuccoes. The organ and pulpit are also richly decorated and add to the dramatic impact of the building that relies on its architecture to reinforce the Word of God, with music to further inspire the faithful and complete the church’s sponsorship of the Arts.
Having finished building the Wieskirche with the aid of his brother Johann Baptist, Zimmerman could not bring himself to leave the scene of his greatest triumph, and close to the church entrance you can still find the small house where he spent the last ten years of his life.
Chiemsee
The “Bavarian Ocean” is the largest lake of Bavaria, measuring 9 ¼ square miles. The lake and its surroundings are the largest recreation area in Bavaria. The autobahn runs close to the flat and marshy southern bank, while an early Roman road between Salzburg and Augsburg ran along the opposite side, where the Romans also had a settlement. At the time, the first monasteries were being founded in Bavaria and two monasteries were built on the islands of the Chiemsee. The smaller island is called the Fraueninsel (Ladies’ Island), because a convent has been operating there ever since the 8th century, with only a short interruption of 30 years in the 19th century. The 17th century onion dome of the convent church is visible from across the lake. The original towers date from the 11th century and even older parts were found during archaeological work in 1961. Amongst them was the coffin of the Blessed Irmingard, a great-granddaughter of Charlemagne. She directed the convent in the 9th century.
Herrenchiemsee
The larger island in the Chiemsee is known as the Herrenchiemsee (Lords’ Island). The entire island was bought in 1873 by King Ludwig 11, who not only wished to save its forests, but also to build another of his famous castles there. A visit to Versailles in 1867 had increased Ludwig’s admiration for the Sun King Louis XIV, and this castle was to be a replica of Versailles. Building started in 1878 and lasted until 1885, by which time 20 million marks had been spent and the treasury depleted.
Ludwig only spent one week there. The castle was still unfinished and only about half of the interior decoration had been completed. The visit begins in the unfinished section – bare brick walls and an unfinished staircase leading to the most sumptuously decorated rooms. This gives a striking demonstration of how rough construction work can be transformed into spectacular stucco marble, for anyone planning to build their own Versailles. The resemblance with Louis XIV’s palace is striking, particularly in the hall of mirrors, whose windows look over formal gardens in the French style.
Versailles was again the talk of the country in 1871, when the Second German Empire was proclaimed and Wilhelm I was named Emperor. Germany was in theory a federal state, but was in fact under Prussian domination. Bismarck, the father of the Second Reich, granted Bavaria special rights and privileges. In peacetime Bavarian soldiers could still wear their traditional uniforms, Bavaria had the right to issue her own stamps and a Prussian Embassy was maintained in Munich. Bismarck also provided Ludwig with money for his castles. In 1978, on the 100 anniversary of the laying of the cornerstone of the castle, the music composed for Ludwig’s marriage, which never took place, was performed. For this occasion 4,000 candles illuminated the castle.
The history of this island is much older than Ludwig’s castle. A Benedictine abbey was founded here in the early 8′ century. It was destroyed by Hungarian invaders, but re-established in 1130 by the Archbishop of Salzburg and remained under a diocesan bishop until the secularisation in the early 10th century. Parts of the former Bishop’s palace are used as a hotel today.
In the summer tourists invade the Chiemsee recreation area. They rent motorboats to visit the islands and bordering villages. Large areas are reserved for campers and trailers, whereas private motorboats are allowed in limited numbers, private sailing boats are unrestricted. In the last few years the wind surfers have dominated the lake and the Chiemsee windsurf club is one of the most famous in Europe. The club’s sporting jackets have become something of a fashion item. The yachting school and club organize regattas for the many sailors. However, the popularity of sailing is a fairly recent development. Up to the 10th century, traditional rowing boats were used, moved by manpower. When in 1800 the first “tourists” came, they were primarily painters from Northern Germany. These guests from the north told the local residents about the boats used in the North Sea and the Baltic, and described the sails that propelled them. The Bavarians did not believe in sailing boats, and a bet was made. A race was held between a man-powered boat and an improvised sailing boat, which used a tablecloth as the sail. There was a nice breeze, the sailing boat won and the locals were convinced.