History Daily - The Birth of Oktoberfest

Episode Date: October 12, 2026

October 12, 1810. Bavaria celebrates the wedding of its Crown Prince with a five-day festival of games, parades—and beer. Support the show! Join Into History for ad-free listening and more. History Daily is a co-production of Airship and Noiser.Go to HistoryDaily.com for more history, daily.

It's the evening of October 12, 1810, in a square in Munich, the capital of the Kingdom of Bavaria. The rain has been falling since morning, leaving the cobblestone slick and shining, but that hasn't stopped a 15-year-old boy from joining the excited crowd that's packed shoulder to shoulder across the square. It's the wedding day of Crown Prince Ludwig of Bavaria and Princess Teresa of Saxe-Hilberghausen. The Bavarian royal family has arranged days of celebrations all across the city, and the people of Munich are happy to join in. The boy rubs his hands together for warm. His boots are wet. His coat is growing heavier with every drop, but he has no intention of leaving. No one in the square does. All eyes are fixed on the royal residence, waiting for the signal that the

wedding ceremony is over and that the party can begin. The rain slackens and a murmur passes through the crowd. The sudden break in the weather seems like a sign. And sure enough, the bells of the royal chapel begin to ring. For a moment, a stunned silence settles across the crowd before the meaning sinks in. The wedding's over. People throw their hats into the air. Strangers embrace. Children scramble onto shoulders to get a better view. Laughter and shouts echo between the buildings in the square as the bells continue to ring. And a wide smile breaks across the boy's face as he looks forward to the party that he sure will last into the early, early hours. Over the next few days, the streets of Munich are transformed.

Bands play, townsfolk dance, food is shared, and beer flows freely. The wedding celebrations will culminate in a grand horse race, but this won't be a one-time event. Instead, it will be the beginning of an annual tradition known around the world as October Fest. Today, October Fest is the world's largest beer and folk festival, but few of those who enjoy the modern celebrations realize that its roots lie in a royal wedding that took place on October 12, 1810. This episode focuses on the birth of Octoberfest in Munich. One of the cities will be visiting on my European History and Christmas markets tour. That adventure, though, is sold out. But I'm planning others like it, and I'd like your help. Go to historydaily.com and find the history

tour survey section. I'd like to know more about where you would be excited to go with me, who you might be traveling with, and what you'd like to do. Whether you're a solo, adventurer, want to plan a family vacation, we're traveling with friends. I want to know which historic sites you'd like to see. So help me plan the ultimate history vacation. Go to historydaily.com and take the survey. That's historydaily.com. From Noisor and Airship, I'm Lindsay Graham, and this is History Daily. History is made every day. On this podcast, every day, we tell the true stories of the people and events that shaped our world. Today is October 12th. 1810, the birth of Octoberfest. It's the morning of October 14th, 1810, on a large meadow outside

Munich, two days after the wedding of Crown Prince Ludwig and Princess Teresa. It's raining again, and 44-year-old Major Andreas Michel Dal Army trudges across the soggy ground, directing laborers and carts across the field. But the carts are struggling. Their wheels sink into the waterlog soil, churning it into a quagmire, and that's a serious problem, because it's a serious problem. Because and only three days, 30 horses are supposed to be racing across this meadow at full gallop. More than three centuries ago, in 1448, Munich hosted a grand horse race just outside the city walls. It proved so popular that it became an annual event known as the Scarlet Horse Race. The tradition fizzled out around 25 years ago, but Major Dahl Army has suggested reviving it

as part of the Crown Prince's wedding celebrations. But as he stands at the middle of the meadow today, though, with his soaked uniform clinging to his skin, Dalarmi is beginning to wonder if he's made a terrible mistake. So D'Larmy turns his attention away from the sinking carts. Across the field, a giant wooden rollers being dragged across the grass by packhorses. In theory, the roller should flatten the circular two-mile track, but in practice it's simply sliding across the wet earth. Major Dullarmy shakes his head. If the weather doesn't change and the course remains in such poor condition, the horses will struggle to stay upright, let alone complete the three laps of the race.

And the track isn't his only problem. With only three days to prepare, there's no time to build a proper pavilion for the royal guests. Instead, Dahl Army has been forced to improvise. Over a century ago, during a war with the Ottoman Empire, Bavarian troops captured a vast silk tent belonging to an enemy general. Now that very same tent has been taken out of storage and transported to the meadow. In the corner of the field, laborers haul on ropes to pull the heavy material into place. Dahl Army inspects their work, but the pegs that are meant to secure the tent keeps slipping out of the soggy ground. Fearing that the tent will collapse with the royal guests inside, the major improvises again. He orders his men to pile stones on top of the pegs to weigh them down. And three days later, on the day of the race, the clouds finally clear.

Inside the enormous tent, crown prince Ludwig, his new bride and their guests sit beneath the silk-line canopy, enjoying fine wine and comfortable seats. Outside, the meadow is packed with 40,000 Bavarians, all waiting for the race to begin. On a raised platform beside the starting line, Major Dahl Army takes a deep breath. The rain has stopped, but the racetrack still gleams in the crisp sunlight, and there's nothing he can do about the slick surface now. So he gestures to the leader of the military band. A long drum roll gradually quiets the crowd, and then trumpet sound.

It's the signal to start the race, and soon 30 horses surge forward across the grass. Shoulder to shoulder the jockeys fight for position. Hooves tear into the ground, sending clumps of mud and turf flying. As they round the first corner, it's still unclear who, in the lead, but on the back straight, a few horses begin to break away from the pack. As they complete the first lap, the noise of the crowd grows even louder. Even Ludwig and Teresa are on their feet, caught up in the excitement.

Eventually, a chestnut stallion pulls clear. Major Del Army recognizes its jockey. It's one of his own sergeants. And despite the best efforts of the men behind him, the lead rider pulls farther and farther ahead, so that after three laps, he crosses the finish line in victory. The winner is presented with a gold medal. But he's not the only one single bowed for praise. Dahl Army is also hailed for organizing such a successful finale to the royal wedding celebrations.

Ludwig's father, the King of Bavaria, is so impressed that he decides to rename the meadow as a permanent reminder of this happy occasion. He names the racetrack, Therzionvisa, or Teresa's Meadow, after his second. son's bride. The event has been such a success that the horse race is repeated the following year. Hosted by the Bavarian Agricultural Association, the race is accompanied by a fair celebrating the kingdom's farming achievements. And over the years that follow, the annual festival expands to feature parades, carousels, folk dances, and more than anything else, beer. But the good times will not last. When Crown Prince Ludwig takes the throne in 1825, Bavaria will be plunged into a financial

crisis, and the kingdom's economic troubles will soon threaten the future of its beloved new tradition. It's the afternoon of May 1, 1844, inside a tavern in Munich, Bavaria, 34 years after the marriage of Crown Prince Ludwig and Princess Teresa. Private Corbinian Stiglmeier sits drinking with several of his comrades from the Bavarian army. Around them, the bars crowded with laborers, carpenters, bricklayers, and other tradesmen enjoying a rare break from work, but the mood is tense. The Bavarian government has just authorized an 8% hike in the official price of beer, and for Munich's poorly paid workers and soldiers, this increase feels like an insult.

Beer is not a luxury in Bavaria. It occupies a central place and working-class social life. Private Stiglmire and his comrades even receive a small military allowance to help them afford it, but the government canceled that subsidy only yesterday. Combined with the recent price increase, it means, their limited wages don't buy as many beers as he used to. So when the soldiers are presented with their bill, they refuse to pay it. Three police officers inside the tavern try to calm the dispute, but the soldiers began

banging their glasses against the tables. Other drinkers join in, accusing the brewer of overcharging them and watering down their beer. Then someone smashes a glass. In an instant, the tavern erupts in violence. Chairs and tables are overturned as more glasses shatter against the walls. The outnumbered policemen retreat to find reinforcements, but news of the disturbance spreads rapidly through Munich's working-class neighborhoods, and soon hundreds of laborers are out in the streets and a riot has broken out. Their anger has been building for years. When Ludwig became king in 1825, he took over a kingdom whose finances were already under strain. But he added to the problem by launching a lavish

reconstruction of Munich. To pay for all the new public buildings and monuments in his capital, Ludwig hiked taxes again and again, and for years the population of Bavaria grumbled, but mostly tolerated the extra burden, until Ludwig came for their beer. The Bavarian government strictly controls the brewing industry, even setting the maximum price that drinkers can be charged. And in the spring of 1844, rising grain prices led Munich's brewers to demand permission to raise their prices. Ludwig's government agreed. For many of Munich's working class,

this decision was the final proof that the king cares more about wealthy brewers and magnificent buildings than his own people. They decided they wouldn't stand for it anymore, and the brawl in the tavern was just the beginning. The growing crowds out on the streets head for Munich's Brewing District. The air there is warm with sweet smell of hops and barley.

The mob pushes through the gates of one brewery. A young weaver smashes a window, climbs through, and opens the door from the inside. The crowd floods in. Three brick layers find a huge oak barrel and roll it into the yard. It's a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, bound and thick iron hoops holding gallons of beer. But a burly blacksmith steps forward, swinging a heavy sledgehammer with terrifying power. On his third strike, one of the metal hoops breaks. the oak staves buckle and the mobs cheer as a frothy wave of dark liquids spills onto the cobblestones.

As darkness falls over Munich, the riots continue. But the destruction is targeted. Private homes are generally left alone. It's the breweries that bear the brunt of the people's anger. And even there, the equipment needed to actually make beer remains untouched. The angry crowd doesn't want brewing to stop, just wants the price of beer reduced. After three days of such rioting, King Ludwig orders troops to use force to clear the streets. But many soldiers sympathize with the protesters, and some are taking part in the riots themselves. When one cavalry regiment has ordered to mount their horses and disperse the crowds, its men refuse.

So with his forces threatening to mutiny, King Ludwig finally capitulates. On May 5th, Royal Heralds announced that he is abandoning the price hike on beer. Once the people of Munich hear this, the unrest ends as swiftly as it began. Peace returns to the streets of the city, and the Munich beer riots are over. So when the traditional October festivities return that fall, beer will remain an affordable part of the celebrations. But over the next 180 years, its role in Octoberfest will increase even further, until the annual celebration becomes the biggest beer festival in the world.

It's midday on September 20, 2025. inside a beer tent on Munich's Theresian visa, 181 years after the city's beer riots. 67-year-old mayor Dieter Reiter stands on a wooden stage in front of hundreds of revelers. He has a mallet in one hand and a heavy brass tap in the other. He turns to an enormous wooden keg behind him, ready to deliver a blow that will officially open Octoberfest. Since its beginnings as a royal wedding party,

Octoberfest has continually evolved. The royal wedding celebration became an annual agricultural fair, then a showcase for Bavarian culture. But by the late 19th century, beer was the core element. Huge temporary beer tents were erected every year on Theresian visa to quench the thirst of visitors. Then, in 1950, a new tradition began when the mayor of Munich tapped the first barrel of beer to mark the opening of the festival. And now today, the tradition continues. over a PA system, an announcer begins counting down from ten. Mayor Reacher carefully positions the brass tap against the barrel's bung,

and when the countdown reaches one, he raises the mallet. Then, with two confident strokes, he drives the tap into the barrel. As the crowd cheers, riflemen outside fire 12 ceremonial gunshots into the air, the signal that the other beer tents and benders have been waiting for. They can now go about serving. Within seconds, beer is flowing across the air. the grounds. Traditional Bavarian brass bands start to play, and strangers raise their October Fest mugs as the celebrations get underway. Today, millions of people travel to Munich

for the festival every year, and to cope with the influx of visitors, Octoberfest now sprawls across 85 acres of Theresian visa and lasts for 16 days. It's a far cry from a horse race on a windy, waterlogged field. Yet the modern October Fest would not exist without that first celebration, marking the marriage of Crown Prince Ludwig and Princess Teresa on October 12, 1810. Next on History Daily, October 13, 2010. 33 minors are rescued in Chile after surviving a record 69 days trapped underground. From Noisor and Airship, this is History Daily, hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsay Graham. Audio editing by Mohamed Shazi, sound design by Molly Bach, music by Thrun.

This episode is written and researched by Angus Gavin McCarck, edited by Scott Reeves, managing producer Emily Burke. Executive producers are William Simpson for airship and Pascal Hughes for Noiser.