Wagner
and
Ludwig

When Richard Wagner’s Tannhäuser premiered in Munich in November, 1858, young Crown Prince Ludwig—then 13 years old—was too young to attend and his father, King Maximilian II, forbade it. In response, the boy found his own way to Wagner: he immersed himself in the composer’s written works, among them "A Communication to My Friends". That was the essay where Wagner voiced his direct appeal:

​

“If only a prince, a king, could be born to me, who would understand what I want, who would trust me and say: let this man do as he pleases! – then I would be saved!”

​

Ludwig, still a child, reportedly took this as a personal summons, as though Wagner were speaking directly to him.

​

Finally, in February of 1861, the 15-year-old Crown Prince Ludwig of Bavaria saw his first opera by Richard Wagner. The opera was Lohengrin, performed in Munich. It had a deep and lasting effect on him. The music, the story, and the mystery of the knight who arrives in a swan-drawn boat all spoke directly to the prince’s soul. From that moment on, Ludwig became a devoted admirer of Wagner’s music and ideas.

​​

Only three years later, in 1864, Ludwig became King of Bavaria. He was just 18 years old. One of his first acts as king was to find Wagner, who at that time was hiding from debts and political trouble. Ludwig invited the composer to come to Munich.

​

In May of 1864, Ludwig and Wagner met for the first time. They spent many hours talking about music, art, and the ideals of a better world. Wagner later wrote about the meeting:

​

“Ludwig is so beautiful and spiritual, soulful and glorious, that I fear his life must melt away like a fleeting dream of the gods in this mean world.”

​

Ludwig gave Wagner money, protection, and freedom. Without the king’s help, Wagner could not have finished his greatest operas, including Tristan und Isolde, Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg, and The Ring of the Nibelung. Ludwig even paid for the building of the special theater in Bayreuth where Wagner’s works could be performed as he imagined them.

​

But Wagner gave something back to Ludwig as well. His music and ideas gave the lonely young king a world of beauty that gave his life purpose. Ludwig saw himself in Wagner’s heroes—men who lived for higher ideals and who often suffered because of them.

​

To bring this dream world to life, Ludwig began building Neuschwanstein. It was not a royal palace for politics or meetings. It was a personal world of mythic power, a place where Wagner’s operas became real. The murals inside show scenes from Lohengrin, Tannhäuser, and Parsifal, from Tristan and Isolde and Seegurd the Dragon Slayer.

​

In May of 1868, Ludwig wrote Wagner, telling him of the plans for Neuschwanstein:

​

“I intend to rebuild the old castle ruins…by the Pöllat Gorge in the genuine style of the old German knightly fortresses…the spot is one of the most beautiful that one could ever find, sacred and out of reach, a worthy temple for the divine Friend…”

​

Even the castle’s towers and its dramatic position high above the valley remind us of Wagner’s fairy-tale worlds. It is a dream made of stone—Wagner’s music turned into architecture.

​

By the time Neuschwanstein was being built in 1869, Ludwig and Wagner were no longer as close. Their relationship had grown difficult. Still, the bond between them remained strong.

​

When Wagner died in Venice in 1883, Ludwig came to Munich to see the train carrying the composer’s body to Bayreuth. After weeping alone by Wagner’s casket for hours, he stepped outside to address the crowd of mourners. His eyes still wet with tears, he said with pride:

​

“The Artist, whom the whole world now mourns, was by me first discovered, I have rescued the world.”

​

Wagner’s music changed Ludwig’s life. And Neuschwanstein keeps Wagner’s world alive today.