To understand a death, you first have to understand the victim. King Ludwig the Second was never built for the gritty reality of politics. History labeled him the "Mad King," but modern historians often view him with sympathy rather than judgment. He wasn't hallucinating; he was a lonely, nocturnal recluse—a "Moon King" who slept by day and rode sleighs equipped with electric lights through the snowy forests by night.
By 1886, Ludwig was living in an alternate reality. He had retreated into his unfinished dream world, Neuschwanstein Castle. But dreams are expensive. He accumulated a staggering debt of 14 million Marks. When he threatened to fire his cabinet to secure more loans, he effectively turned his government against him. The Bavarian ministers decided they had had enough. They commissioned a psychiatric report declaring the King "paranoid" and unfit to rule. The catch? The lead psychiatrist, Doctor Bernhard von Gudden, had never even examined the King personally.
On June 10, 1886, the government commission arrived at Neuschwanstein to depose him. In a dramatic final stand, local villagers and the fire brigade rushed to the castle to defend their beloved "Kini," actually holding the government commissioners prisoner in the gatehouse. But Ludwig's will to fight faltered. Two days later, he surrendered. He was taken into custody and transported to Berg Castle on the shores of Lake Starnberg.
The following evening, June 13, 1886, is where history turns into mystery. Ludwig went for a walk in the castle park with the very man who had diagnosed him, Doctor von Gudden. In a decision that still baffles historians, the doctor sent their guards away, perhaps believing he could handle the "pacified" patient alone. They never returned. Hours later, the bodies of both the King and the doctor were found floating in the shallow water near the shore.
The official government ruling was immediate: Suicide by drowning. The story was that Ludwig tried to kill himself, Doctor von Gudden tried to stop him, and in the ensuing struggle, the King killed the doctor before drowning himself. However, three specific details from the sources suggest a much darker narrative.
The Evidence
One: The Autopsy Anomaly. Reports suggest that Ludwig had no water in his lungs. This is highly unusual for a drowning victim. It implies he may have been dead before he hit the water, or perhaps suffered a "dry drowning" from shock.
Two: The Struggle. While Ludwig was untouched, Doctor von Gudden's body showed clear signs of a violent fight—blows to the head and strangulation marks. Furthermore, Ludwig was a powerful swimmer and a large man; the idea of him drowning in waist-deep water seemed unlikely to those who knew him.
Three: The "Bullet Hole" Theory. Rumors persist that Ludwig was assassinated. A relative, Countess Josephine, claimed to possess the coat Ludwig wore that night. She allegedly showed it to guests at tea parties, pointing out two bullet holes in the back.
The Escape Theory
There is one final theory that bridges the gap between suicide and murder. Jakob Lidl, the King's personal fisherman, allegedly left testimony that he was waiting in a boat on the lake that night to help Ludwig escape. According to this version of events, the King was shot by assassins as he approached the boat to flee his captors.
We may never know the truth. The House of Wittelsbach has consistently refused to allow a modern exhumation of the body using today's forensic technology. So, was it the desperate act of a man who lost his kingdom, or the cold calculation of a government removing a liability? For now, the "Swan King" remains exactly what he told his governess he wished to be: "An eternal enigma to myself and others."