"Le Roi est mort! Vive le Roi!" A feeling of gloom and sadness rested over Munich; Maximilian II. was dying. On the 9th of March, 1864, he signed in his bed the last documents of his reign. The same evening the doctors relinquished all hope of being able to save his life. It had long been known that he was a sick man, but no one had had any idea that his last hour was approaching. The news, which was quickly spread, filled the capital with dismay and lamentations. Immense crowds of people penetrated into the courtyard of the Palace, and gazed up at their ruler's windows. Snow and rain fell heavily. The wind howled, but no one seemed to notice it. No longer was it possible to expect news which might bring consolation. All were thinking the same thought: "Our good King is dying!" The sorrow over the whole country was indescribable. At four in the morning on the 10th of March the physician-in-ordinary informed the sick man that he must prepare himself for death, telling him at the same time that his confessor was in the Palace. "Has it come to this?" asked Maximilian, who felt exceedingly weak but suffered little pain. "Well, well--God will do the best for me! I have always wished what was right." A believer, he made his confession and received extreme unction. His despairing wife had spent the night in the sick-room. The eighteen-year-old Crown Prince was now with his father. The King had a prolonged private conversation with him, warning him, counselling him, and endeavouring at the eleventh hour to gain the confidence of his son, who had always withdrawn shyly into himself and whose character was to him a riddle. He took an affecting and affectionate farewell of the Queen and both his children, blessing them, and expressing a hope of reunion. "My son," he said to his successor, "I hope for you a death as quiet as your father's!" These were his last words. It would almost seem as if the veil over the events of the future was lifted at this time to the view of the dying king, and that he saw things which made him suspect or fear his son's tragic ending. The Archbishop spoke words of consolation to the dying man as he at midday, without a struggle, was called to the eternal rest. Ludwig swooned with the strength of his emotions. Later in life he was heard to say how painfully it had impressed him that he had been greeted as the Sovereign as he left his father's deathbed. "The Lord has taken a good king away from us! Let us pray that He will give us as good a king again!" said the Archbishop to the assembled courtiers, who were waiting outside. All fell on their knees; tears and sobs filled the room. The capital and the kingdom were weighed down by the pain of their loss.