The sixties were in political respects a time fraught with fate for the German people.

The future Emperor Wilhelm I.—“der Siegeskaiser,” as he was called—had in 1861 succeeded his romantic, and in the end, insane brother, Friedrich Wilhelm IV., as King of Prussia. The year afterwards Bismarck was constituted the leader of Prussian politics. He had long borne within him the scheme for the federation of the German states under the Prussian sceptre; and his political watch-word was, as we know, “iron and blood.” In 1863 an opportunity occurred for the great statesman to take the first step on his projected way. The Danish King, Frederik VII., had died, and as a consequence of this the Schleswig-Holstein question had peremptorily come to the fore. Bismarck invited the hereditary enemy, Austria, to go hand in hand with Prussia in her war against Denmark. In the situation brought about by this war the position of the medium-sized and small states of Germany became serious, and the neutrality which they had adopted became more and more untenable. Bavaria had kept outside the struggle in the Schleswig-Holstein question. Its then reigning Monarch, Maximilian II., had made an attempt to negotiate between the conflicting parties, and shortly before his death endeavoured to mediate in favour of the Duke of Agustenborg’s claims.

Matters had by this time entered on a new stage: the two great powers could not agree as to the prize gained by the conquest. Dark storm-clouds gathered, threatening a more far-reaching and bloody issue than the Schleswig-Holstein one. Ludwig II. desired to take up the thankless part of peacemaker, and follow in his father’s footsteps. This was of no avail, for Bismarck wished for a decision of the question whether Prussia or Austria should play first violin, and a war was a necessary link in his scheme. Bavaria in general, and the King in particular, seem long to have considered it possible that the storm might abate without the shedding of blood. Nevertheless he issued orders on the 10th of May, 1866, for the mobilisation of the Bavarian army.

On the 22nd of May, at Schloss Hohenschwangau, one of the Ministers held a lecture before him on the position of affairs. Ludwig went a turn in the park with his counsellor, and parted from him with manifestations of friendliness, after having offered him a cigar. The Minister had hardly taken his departure before Ludwig mounted a horse, and rode off, accompanied by a single groom. He galloped to the railway station of Biessenhofen, reached Lindau unrecognised, and passed thence unnoticed into Switzerland. The journey concerned Richard Wagner, who was living at his villa “Triebchen,” close to Lucerne, and whom he wished to congratulate on the occasion of his birthday. The Landsturm was meanwhile about to be called out in Bavaria, and the King’s signature was required. Not a syllable as to his intended excursion had crossed his lips while he had been talking to the Minister. When the latter again returned to Hohenschwangau, his Majesty had disappeared. Inquiries were made; but no one knew whither he had ridden, or how long he intended to be away. After a time tracks were found leading to the lake of Lucerne, and it was discovered that two riders, late at night, had been admitted to Richard Wagner’s villa. There was no longer any doubt as to where he was to be sought. The Premier telegraphed to Wagner that the King’s presence in Bavaria was necessary. Ludwig at once went back to Lindau, whither the royal train was sent to meet him. It is true that he had been absent only a few days, but not without reason this excursion was looked upon with great disfavour. His gratuitous disappearance at such a critical moment was commented on and criticised in foreign and Bavarian newspapers. The only circumstance to explain and excuse his conduct was his youthful confidence that his kingdom would not be involved in the struggle.

On the 27th of May he opened the Chamber in person, expressing in the Speech from the Throne the hope, which he would not yet relinquish, that Germany might be spared a sister war. This was, however, on the eve of breaking out.

The sympathies of Bavaria were on the side of Austria, and on the 14th of June a military alliance was concluded with that country. The same day Prussia declared in Dresden, Hanover, and Cassel its ultimatum: Alliance or war! The Grand Duke of Hesse, who would not allow Prussia “to put a pistol to his breast,” was a Prussian prisoner of state five days later. King George of Hanover declared himself, “as a Christian, a monarch, and a Guelph,” to be against Prussia. But so rapid was the Prussian advance that the Hanoverian troops surrendered without conditions on the 29th of June, in spite of their victory at Langensalza.

On the 16th of June the war broke out in Bavaria. Austria had undertaken, in an agreement with this country, not to conclude peace on her own account. On the 25th of June Ludwig went for a day to the headquarters of the army, at Bamberg. He issued a proclamation to his troops, in which he said, “I do not bid you farewell; my thoughts will be with you,”

He left the command of the army to his father’s uncle, Field Marshal Prince Karl, then seventy-one years of age, who, together with Prince Alexander of Hesse, led the troops of Bavaria, WÜrtemberg, Baden-Baden, and Hesse—the so-called reichs-armÉe, which consisted of nearly a hundred thousand men. In spite of his bravery and his military experience from the wars of Napoleon the Great, in which he had taken part, Prince Karl could do nothing against the dissensions of the allied troops, which hastened the enemy’s victory. The Prussians conquered the reichs-armÉe in a number of small battles.

Inactive, powerless, Ludwig was witness from his capital of the defeat of his faithful soldiers. His people were a vanquished people, and himself a vanquished King. Austria concluded peace with Prussia in Nikolsburg without paying any regard to the fate of her ally. Bavaria now also concluded peace. She did not lose any province, had only to renounce a strip of country hardly worth mentioning; but she was compelled to pay thirty millions of guldens for the expenses of the war. The Bavarian troops went each in their own direction. The war had lasted a month, but this month had been long enough to lay fields and woods bare, and to fill thousands of hearts with loss and sorrow.