When Ludwig on the 17th January, 1870, opened the Landtag, he said, in his Speech from the Throne: “The agreement I have concluded with Prussia is known to the country! Faithfully, in conformity with this alliance, for which I have pledged my royal word, I will, when my duty bids me do so, together with my powerful ally, answer for the honour of Germany and therewith also for the honour of Bavaria!”
As mentioned in a previous chapter Hohenlohe had retired at the beginning of 1870. This did not, however, betoken any change of system, but was merely a personal change. Count von Bray, formerly the Bavarian Minister at Vienna, who succeeded him as Minister of Foreign Affairs, stood in all respects on the same political footing as his predecessor, and the attacks of the Ultramontanes on the Government were continued.
Apart from party dissensions the first half-year, however, passed quite quietly. There were probably but few in Bavaria who suspected that a war was near at hand. Ludwig himself seems after Hohenlohe’s resignation to have been comparatively unconcerned at the political fermentation in his kingdom. He read and rode, made excursions to his hunting-boxes, did the work his Ministers expected of him, and lived his usual quiet life. Accompanied by his Master of the Horse, Hornig, he set off for the highlands on the 18th of July. It was his intention to be away five or six days; his private secretary had received orders only to send for him in case of the extremest necessity. Suddenly came the news that France had declared war on Prussia. As the Monarch’s return was delayed longer than had been expected, a messenger on horseback was sent after him with the most important documents. On the 15th of July he returned to Berg, the same evening at eleven he sent for his secretary, Eisenhart. He received him in his balcony room on the first floor, where he paced up and down the floor, as his habit was, sitting down occasionally for a moment. Hours passed by, while they considered the position together. The King, then hardly five-and-twenty years of age, was still in full possession of his acute receptive powers, which in certain respects he retained to the end. But he was no lover of war. Repeatedly he said: “Is there then no means, no possibility of avoiding war?” He finally recognised that it was inevitable. The question became now: Whether Bavaria could remain neutral, or whether his kingdom—in conformity with the treaty of 1866—should fight by the side of Prussia. The secretary observed that neutrality would threaten the independence of Bavaria. To take a position by the side of France against Prussia would be undignified. He, moreover, regarded the agreement of 1866 as pledging Bavaria to fight with Prussia and for Prussia. The Monarch was also of this opinion. “Before I make a decision I will wait for Berchem’s arrival. Let me be awakened as soon as he comes!” It was half-past three in the morning before the cabinet secretary left the chÂteau. Day was breaking. An hour and a half later, Count von Berchem arrived from the capital. The two men had a consultation together on the position of affairs, and the secretary again returned to the King, who received him in his bed-chamber. He was lying in his blue four-post bed. The secretary read out loud a letter from Minister Bray, which Count Berchem had brought with him. Once more they touched upon the chief points in the great question. “Prompt help is double help, your Majesty,” said Eisenhart. There was a pause. Then the King said: “Bis dat, qui cito dat!”—“Draft my command for the mobilisation of the army. Invite the Ministers Bray and Pranckh to come to me this afternoon at four o’clock, and inform the press.” The secretary immediately prepared the required document. He handed it to the King, who provided it with his signature.
The political attitude of Bavaria was sealed. Ludwig’s action on this day had a significance which extended far beyond the military dispositions he had made. The result of the war would probably have been the same without Bavaria’s assistance. But the future of Germany was decided by the stroke of the King of Bavaria’s pen on the morning of the 16th of July, for the alliance between Prussia and the greatest of the South-German states had as its consequence the federation of Germany and the German Empire.
“I have never seen the King so satisfied as to-day,” declared his Minister Pranckh after the audience the same afternoon. And when the equerry in attendance, von Sauer, congratulated his Majesty, the latter said: “Yes, I have the feeling that I have done something good.” A warm telegram of thanks was sent to the Monarch by King Wilhelm in Berlin, and from hundreds of others came enthusiastic telegrams.
The following day, a Sunday, Ludwig travelled by special train to Munich. There was immense movement in the streets; the enthusiasm grew from minute to minute. The crowds felt the need of thanking and congratulating their King. “Heil unserm KÖnig, heil!” was sung in chorus outside the Palace. The enthusiasm rose indescribably when he showed himself at the window. Everyone pressed forward to see him, and give expression to their rejoicings. “Hoch, Ludwig! Hoch!” rose like a single cry from the Bavarian hearts. The homage of the people made a deep impression on Ludwig. “Shall I go to the window once again?” he asked, after showing himself many times, as the shouts outside became louder and warmer. He was received with ovations in the evening, when he appeared at the performance of Wagner’s Die WalkÜre. The shouts of hurrah for the King continued to ring. Day after day, till far into the night, the crowds surged backwards and forwards. One cannot know how the dice may fall,” said the Bavarian Minister of War. “But this I can already say for certain: the army will come out of the battle with honour!”
Inner strife was smoothed away for a time under the feeling of fellowship which had seized upon all parties. Those in chief command, however, did not dare give themselves up to too great illusions. It was not, indeed, on account of the military ability of the Bavarians, but on account of the moral support coming from that land, that the Prussian leaders, with Bismarck at their head, so highly praised King Ludwig’s action. The commanders of the South-German army, whom the Prussians derisively called les flaneurs batailles, had shown themselves to be incapable in the war of 1866. Only the mere semblance of a command was given them in 1870, all real authority was being invested in the hands of the Prussian generals.
The Crown Prince of Prussia received orders to take chief command of the South-German army. That Friedrich was not without anxiety is apparent from the following expression in his diary: “It is a difficult task for me to fight the French with troops who do not like us Prussians, and who are not educated in our school.” On his way to the army he paid visits to the allied Princes whose troops he was to lead, going first to Munich and thence to Stuttgart and Karlsruhe. At all the stations where the train stopped preparations to welcome him had been made. Ludwig II. went part of the way to receive him, and the two Princes met each other with cordiality. Together with the King and Prince Otto, he drove in an open carriage through the streets of the capital of Bavaria. Waving handkerchiefs and shouts of hurrah followed in their train. In the evening the King and his guest were present at the Hof Theater, where Schiller’s Wallensteins Lager was given. Shouts of delight filled the house when the Crown Prince showed himself by Ludwig’s side. The Queen-mother, too, who but very rarely visited the theatre, was also present. The curtain was raised. The actor Possart repeated a prologue:
“Denn was im Drange der Gefahr auf’s Neue
Ein edles FÜrstenpaar zum Kampf vereint,
Das KÖnigswort, es heisset: Treu und Treue!
Mit diesem Feldgeschrei verjagt den Feind!
Heil! Dreifach heil! dem hohen FÜrstenpaar,
Dem Deutschlands alte Treue heilig war!”
At the words “Treue um Treue” and “Heil! dreifach Heil!” there was a movement which spread all through the theatre. All were deeply affected.
The King of Bavaria stepped forward with his guest. They shook hands with one another, and formally sealed their compact in the eye of the people. At this indescribable moment the warmth of popular feeling rose to a storm of rejoicing.
Seized by the solemnity of the moment, the two Princes stood hand in hand.