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.