Schloss Neuschwanstein 

Article by Liam Geoghegan. Edited by Harriet Di Francesco (and Stephen Woodward). Additional Research by Robyn Hall. 

Architects may tell you that Schloss Neuschwanstein is not particularly innovative or original in design; however, for me (and I profess to no architectural knowledge, other than the ability to say that Neuschwanstein mixes Romanesque and Gothic features), the castle conjures two phrases: “I beg to differ” and “one of a kind”. It is fair to state, architectural knowledge or none, that Neuschwanstein looks like something out of a fairy tale, or, when speaking to a more modern audience, a film. In fact, the castle had been used for both purposes; appearing in films such as Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and The Great Escape, and providing the inspiration for Disney’s “Sleeping Beauty” castle, used on their logo and in their theme parks. Additionally, Neuschwanstein has been copied for numerous computer games, and been the subject for a number of traditional works of art. 

 Despite restrictions on snapping the interior, the castle the castle is the most photographed building in Germany. The castle hosts around 1.2 million visitors every year and at its busiest up to 6,000 visitors a day. Many of which come to view, amongst other things, a loaf of bread baked over 100 years ago. Strangely enough for a building of its type (i.e. a castle built in the second half of the 19th century), Neuschwanstein has been open to the public since 1886. And it is this point which brings me to, in my opinion, the most interesting aspect of the castle – its inhabitant. 

It is important that this word stays firmly in the singular, as Neuschwanstein was commissioned by and lived in by one man, and was opened as an attraction just weeks after his untimely death. The man in question is King Ludwig II of Bavaria who – in my mind (and I am fascinated by royalty) – is one of the most intriguing monarchs to have lived. 

Ludwig is commonly referred to as both “the dream king” and “the mad king”, both of which sum up his life and personality, and yet simultaneously fail to even come close to describing either. 

Ludwig was born to King Maximilian II in 1846, continuing the name of his grandfather who was forced to abdicate due to the revolutions of 1848. Ludwig II had a rather restrained upbringing, as one might expect having been born to a constitutional monarch. His education ‘was limited, conventional and strict’, thus Ludwig grew from a shy child into a reserved adult. However, there was one saving grace to his family, Ludwig inherited a love of the arts which he held as his passion and used as an escape from the restraints of reality. 

Ludwig attended his first opera by Richard Wagner in 1861, three years before he became king. Wagner was to be extremely important in Ludwig’s life: Ludwig developed a ‘hero-worship of the composer’; Wagner was, at times, supported financially by the king (despite being politically exiled from Bavaria); and he and his music were something of a muse for Ludwig. Wagner’s music and their troubled relationship formed the backdrop for Ludwig’s most commendable, and perhaps most extravagant, pursuit – as a patron of building. 

Neuschwanstein (originally called Neue Hohenschwangau, as the successor to one of Ludwig’s childhood residences across the valley) was one of three castles worked on by Ludwig. Other architectural ventures include the famous Winter Gardens atop the Residenz, and a planned, but never constructed, Festival Theatre, both of which are located in Munich. Neuschwanstein can be termed loosely as a “restoration” of the medieval ruin that had previously stood on the Alpine spot. As with many of Ludwig’s building/refurbishment projects, along with those of his father, the castle was partly designed by a theatrical set designer; the actual architectural elements (i.e. the parts that actually keep it up) were added by three architects – it is no wonder that Neuschwanstein looks the way it does. 

Ludwig never saw the designs completely finished. In 1886, he ‘was pronounced insane by a medical report’ and taken as a “prisoner” to one of the castles of his childhood – Schloss Berg. The following day Ludwig and the doctor who had him committed were found drowned in the Lake Starnberg, adjacent to the castle. To this day, no one knows the circumstances surrounding their deaths. 

Although his death will have been read in different ways, it is generally believed that the arrest (and possibly Ludwig’s subsequent death) were part of a coup d’état. Ultimately, no matter how and why Ludwig drowned, less than 8 weeks later Neuschwanstein was opened to the public; helping to pay off the huge debts that the king had amassed through his architectural patronage. Since its opening in 1886 the flood of tourists has yet to cease.

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