The Ludwig Conspiracy

  Laughing, Steven shook his head. “How did I ever get by without you?” He took the book from her hand and kissed her long and hard on the mouth. Sara closed her eyes in enjoyment and suddenly pulled him over to behind one of the overturned bookshelves.

  “Sara, you can’t . . .”

  “Who says you have to be Ludwig the Second’s last descendant?” she asked, beginning to unbutton his dirty shirt. “The line hasn’t died out yet, not by a long shot.”

  Marot’s diary fell fluttering to the floor, but Steven was past noticing it.

  Afterword

  When I began my research for this novel, one expert on Ludwig warned me that anyone who starts studying the Fairy-tale King will end up deranged himself.

  After reading a few dozen nonfiction books on Ludwig II, visiting his castles, and attending university lectures on schizophrenic disorders and megalomania, and above all after endless phone conversations with mysterious Cowled Men, owners of diaries, and other conspiracy theorists, I now know what he meant: the subject of Ludwig II of Bavaria is a morass, both bewildering and fascinating, because new pieces of the jigsaw puzzle and new inconsistencies keep surfacing. In other words, the case of Ludwig’s death is the perfect crime.

  Many of the incidents described in this novel correspond to historical fact, absurd as they may sound. I have invented or embroidered upon other elements. There is no historical evidence for the character of Theodor Marot, but his superior, Dr. Max Schleiss von Loewenfeld, certainly existed. He was indeed personal physician to the king, and, according to art historian Professor Siegfried Wichmann of Berlin, wrote a diary in which he described the murder of Ludwig II. Wichmann acquired this book, with the rest of Loewenfeld’s literary estate, at an auction and placed it in an archive overseas “for reasons of security.” Like Marot’s diary in my book, it is bound in blue velvet and ornamented with ivory carvings. Whether it is written in a secret cipher I do not know, but anything is possible in connection with Ludwig’s death.

  The paintings of artist Hermann Kaulbach are also said to have shown bloodstains from the king’s lungs. Professor Wichmann, at the time chief curator of the Bavarian State Collection of Paintings, had them photographed privately in the 1960s; since then, they have gone missing, along with Ludwig’s coat and his shirt, both of which allegedly show bullet holes.

  Furthermore, there is solid authentication for most of the anecdotes about the Fairy-tale King and other characters in this novel: the equerry Richard Hornig, Counts Dürckheim and Holnstein, and the painter Hermann Kaulbach. And yes, the secret society of the Cowled Men does exist (and of course its present head, unlike his fictional counterpart in my novel, is in the best of health). Bavaria would be much the poorer if it had no such eccentric fraternities.

  In addition, there is documentary evidence for the course of the last few days in the life of the Fairy-tale King, some of it even in the form of transcribed conversations. I mention that only because it was in those very passages that my wife several times criticized my exuberant imagination. I was always pleased when I could tell her that my account matched exactly with the contemporary reports. However, we shall probably never know exactly what happened on that last walk taken by Ludwig beside the Starnberger See.

  The Wittelsbach family archive is indeed closed to the public. Anyone wishing to know about the king’s death will often find that his request falls on deaf ears. The royal family has also forbidden any investigation of Ludwig’s casket for reasons of piety. But of course it is unthinkable that the Wittelsbachs could be involved in any conspiracy such as the one in this novel. Any similarity to living persons is therefore out of the question.

  To give readers some idea of what is true and what is speculation, I have provided a small glossary for conspiracy theorists. Enjoy the puzzle, working it out, and conspiring.

  At this point I would like to express special thanks to the two experts on Ludwig, Erich Adami and Alfons Schweigert, whose book on the last days in the life of King Ludwig II is the best general survey of the Fairy-tale King’s death. Erich Adami also put several important books at my disposal, as well as a CD that, so far as I am aware, is the most extensive summary of the facts about Ludwig II ever to have been assembled.

  Heartfelt thanks, also, to Dominik for all the information about historical and modern weapons, to my cousin Julian for IT and computer information, to the lady whose name I don’t know who was my guide at Linderhof Castle and showed me the king’s linden tree, to the kind lady in the kiosk at Neuschwanstein for her meatloaf rolls, to my father and Florian, my brother, for medical information, and of course, once again, to my first readers and proofreaders: my wife, Katrin; Marian; Gerd; and Uta. I am sorry if, this time, I have made a nuisance of myself right to the end of the book. I hope the work has turned out to be worthwhile.

  Oliver Pötzsch, November 2010

  A Little Glossary for Conspiracy Theorists

  Air rifle: An air gun used by the Prussian secret police, among others. Thought to have been a possible murder weapon. There is a Girandoni brand air rifle in the Munich Museum of Hunting and Fishing.

  Attempted assassinations: Supporters of the theory that Ludwig was murdered generally base their thinking on a single would-be assassin who is said to have fired an air rifle (see above). Another theory suggests that a rustic gendarme hit the king by accident, inflicting a mortal wound, when he fired at the two men fighting in the water.

  Bank raids: Ludwig really did intend to organize raids on banks in Stuttgart, Frankfurt, Berlin, and Paris in order to finance his castles. Fortunately, these plans were never put into practice.

  Berg Castle: This might be described as Ludwig’s holiday villa. He died there on 13 June 1886. Originally the king was to be interred in Linderhof Castle, but fears of protest by the local population meant that a last-minute decision was made to keep him at Berg, which was closer to Munich.

  Bismarck, Otto von (1815–1898): Chancellor of the German Empire and regarded as the archenemy of Bavaria. Some conspiracy theorists see Otto von Bismarck as the invisible hand behind an assassination because Ludwig, tired of the business of government, had allegedly threatened to cede Bavaria to Austria.

  Casket: Ludwig’s remains were laid to rest in the Wittelsbach crypt of St. Michael’s Church in Munich. However, the Cowled Men (see below) claimed that the casket was empty. To this day, the Wittelsbachs refuse to sanction any forensic investigation of its contents, on the grounds of family piety.

  Chloroform: According to one of the many conspiracy theories about the death of Ludwig, chloroform was used as an anesthetic to render him unconscious before he was drowned.

  Coat: A coat worn by the king and with two bullet holes in it was apparently in the possession of Countess Josephine von Wrbna-Kaunitz until the 1970s. The countess died in a fire at her apartment in 1973, and since then the coat seems to have disappeared. The shirt worn by the king and showing the bullet entry holes, making it a piece of material evidence, is also said to have been exchanged for another and later destroyed.

  Cowled Men: A Bavarian secret society that campaigns to this day for the clarification of what its members, working incognito and disguised by cowls, regard as the murder of King Ludwig. Their legend goes back to the funeral of Frederick Barbarossa, when cowled knights in black habits are said to have followed the funeral procession. There were Cowled Men present at the funeral of Ludwig II in Munich. More about them can be found online at http://www.guglmann.de.

  Diary: By his own account, the former chief curator of the Bavarian State Collection of Paintings, Siegfried Wichmann, acquired the diary of the royal physician Dr. Max Schleiss von Loewenfeld in 1987 at an auction. The diary clearly stated that Ludwig II was shot. Witnesses, besides the physician himself, were the painter Hermann Kaulbach (see below), who painted a portrait of the dead king, and the two Hornig brothers (see below). The diary, says Professor Wichmann, was bound in blue velvet adorned with ivory carvings, and the most important document
s are currently deposited in archives in the United States and Canada “for reasons of security.”

  Drowning: The official cause of Ludwig II’s death. However, the water of the Starnberger See was only waist-deep at the scene, and Ludwig was a good swimmer. In addition, no water was found in his lungs. All the same, he could have had a heart attack brought on by his agitation, the cold, and the large quantity of alcohol he had drunk with his evening meal.

  Dürckheim-Montmartin, Count Eckbrecht von (aka Dürckheim) (1850–1912): Ludwig’s adjutant and one of those closest to him. Because he refused to leave his king in Neuschwanstein, he was accused of high treason, but his trial was canceled four weeks later.

  Escape: Allegedly, Ludwig’s escape from Berg Castle had already been organized. Coaches for the king are said to have been waiting at four places on the Starnberger See (Leoni, Ammerland, Ambach, Seeshaupt) and at the gate of the castle. Boats were also waiting on the lake itself, but they could not come in close to land because the water close to the low-lying banks was so shallow.

  Falkenstein: The ruins of Ludwig’s fourth castle at Pfronten. The project was never completed because of his early death; the construction work went no farther than laying water pipes and building an access road. The Falkenstein hotel was not built until 1897. It is still standing and was certainly never destroyed by an explosion. A tiny museum there explains the history of the castle ruins to visitors.

  Fits of violent rage: According to his servants, Ludwig frequently slapped, kicked, or spat at his subordinates. One servant who committed a minor infraction was permitted, for a full year, to approach him only if wearing a black mask. When the committee members charged with taking Ludwig II into custody at Neuschwanstein Castle (see below) arrived to carry out their mission, the king gave orders for their eyes to be put out and for them to be whipped until their blood ran. His orders were not carried out.

  Footprints: According to the notebook of the king’s fisherman, Jakob Lidl (see below), footprints were faked at the scene of Ludwig’s death with a wooden clog fixed to a pole.

  Forgeries: Particularly in Neuschwanstein Castle, cheap materials that appeared magnificent only at first sight were used. What looks like marble is painted stucco, the gleaming gold is really brass, and the “jewels” are colored glass from Lower Bavaria. On closer inspection, the furnishings as a whole give the impression of being a gigantic stage set for a grand opera.

  Freyschlag von Freyenstein, Ignaz (1827–1891): Responsible for the operations of the local gendarmerie in Berg. Only two weeks after Ludwig’s death, Freyenstein was surprisingly appointed head of the “Prince Regent’s Secret Chancellery,” known as the “Black Cabinet.”

  Gudden, Bernhard von (1824–1886): One of the most famous doctors of his time treating the mentally ill. He was commissioned by the ministers to provide an expert medical opinion classifying Ludwig as deranged. However, this medical certificate depended entirely on negative witness statements; the king himself was never interviewed, and positive witness statements were ignored. Gudden died in the Starnberger See with Ludwig. According to many conspiracy theorists, he was either working with Ludwig’s enemies or knew too much of the truth for his own good.

  Herrenchiemsee: One of Ludwig’s three castles, built on an island in the Chiemsee. It is regarded as a tribute to King Louis XIV of France and represents a kind of mini-Versailles.

  Hohenschwangau: Castle opposite Neuschwanstein. It belonged to Ludwig’s father, Maximilian II, and the Fairy-tale King spent his childhood there.

  Holnstein, Count Maximilian Karl Theodor von (1835–1895): Master of the Royal Stables of Bavaria and a playmate of Ludwig in his youth. He was instrumental in arranging the Imperial Letter (see below) and received ten percent commission from the Guelph fund. He played a large part in the later deposition of the king and was to be appointed his guardian. He is quoted as having said, “If I do the king any harm, may I go blind.” Holnstein was stone-blind at the time of his death.

  Homosexuality: According to the latest research, Ludwig II was homosexual. The fact that many of his modern supporters still regard that as blasphemy says more about their own state of mind than the king’s.

  Hornig, Richard (1841–1911): Royal equerry and a friend of the king’s for many years. In the end, he fell out of favor with him. He had a villa in Allmanshausen on the Starnberger See, and, according to one conspiracy theory, he was one of four witnesses to the murder of Ludwig II, together with his brother, the painter Kaulbach, and the physician Schleiss von Loewenfeld (see below for both).

  Imperial Letter: A document drawn up in 1870 by Bismarck (see above) as chancellor of the German Empire, in which Ludwig II ceded the dignity of emperor to the Hohenzollern King Wilhelm I. In his lifetime, the king of Bavaria received some six million marks in gold for this abdication of power. As the money went into his private fortune, a number of historians consider the deal to have been corrupt.

  Insanity: Whether Ludwig was insane, and if so to what degree, is a question that can never be entirely settled. However, according to Detlev von Zerssen, professor of psychiatry in Munich, the king suffered from neither paranoia nor schizophrenia (unlike his brother, Otto; see below), but is more likely to have had a schizotypal disorder in combination with an antisocial personality disorder and megalomania, possibly as the result of meningitis contracted when he was a baby. Today he would probably be diagnosed as a borderline case of insanity. In the opinion of Zerssen’s colleague, Professor Heinz Häfner, Ludwig II also suffered from a social phobia heightened by his homosexuality. Professor Häfner excludes the possibility of psychosis, in which case the declaration that he was incapacitated and not responsible for his own actions was illegal.

  Kainz, Josef (1858–1910): Young actor from Munich whom Ludwig revered, and who went on a journey to Switzerland with him in 1881. The photographs taken of him there with the king were the model for the fictional character of Theodor Marot.

  Kaulbach, Hermann (1846–1909): Son of the Munich artist Wilhelm von Kaulbach, and painter of historical subjects. He did five sketches of the ruins of Falkenstein (see above) for Ludwig II. He allegedly painted a picture of the late king on the night of his death, showing blood from Ludwig’s lungs at the corner of his mouth (suggesting that he had been shot). According to one theory, he was a witness along with the Hornig brothers (see above) and Dr. Max Schleiss von Loewenfeld (see below) to events on the night of the murder.

  Lidl, Jakob (1864–1933): Fisherman to the king, and one of the possible witnesses (see below) to the murder of Ludwig. According to one theory, he was supposed to take the escaping king into his boat, and later wrote down his memories of the night of the murder in a school exercise book that then mysteriously disappeared. Only one page of this journal, which speaks of forged footprints (see above), is still extant.

  Linderhof Castle: The smallest of Ludwig’s three castles, and the only one to be completed in his lifetime. Famous for the Grotto of Venus and the “magic table” imitating the one in the fairy tale. The linden tree where Ludwig had his tree house can still be seen on the grounds of Linderhof.

  Loyal subjects of Ludwig, societies of: There are a number of such organizations in Bavaria, their members devoting themselves to the memory of Ludwig II. They range from serious associations to inveterate monarchists and conspiracy theorists. A memorial service is held annually, on the Sunday after the date of Ludwig’s death, in the votive chapel of Berg Castle.

  Luitpold of Bavaria (1821–1912): Took over the government of the country after the death of Ludwig II. He was persuaded by John Lutz, president of the Council of Ministers (see below) to carry out a coup d’état, and for some time lived under a cloud with the reputation of having killed the king, but nonetheless ushered in the golden age of Bavaria.

  Lutz, Johann Baron von (1826–1890): President of the Bavarian Council of Ministers and regarded by conspiracy theorists as the leading villain instrumental in the assassination of the king. He commissioned Dr.
von Gudden (see above) to write a medical report on the king, and convinced Prince Luitpold (see above) to take over as prince regent. If the coup d’état had failed, presumably Lutz would have paid for it with his head.

  Neuschwanstein Castle: The most famous of Ludwig’s castles, although it was never finished. Confusingly, it was known as Hohenschwangau Castle at the time. It was opened to the public soon after the king’s death, with the idea of demonstrating Ludwig’s alleged megalomania to the people of Bavaria. To this day it attracts about 1.3 million visitors each year.