II
For ten years Ludwig had been under the thumb of the Ultramontanes and the clerical ministry of Carl von Abel. He was getting more than a little tired of the combination. The advance of Lola Montez widened the breach. To get rid of him, accordingly, he offered von Abel the appointment of Bavarian Minister at Brussels. The offer, however, was not accepted. Asked for his reason, von Abel said that he "wanted to stop where he was and keep an eye on things."
At this date Bavaria was Catholic to a man—and a woman—and the Ultramontanes held the reins of government. While one would have been enough, they professed to have two grievances. One was the "political poison" of the Liberal opposition; and the other was the "moral perversion" of the King. In March matters came to a crisis. A number of University professors, headed by the rigid Lasaulx, held an indignation meeting in support of the Ultramontane Cabinet and "their efforts to espouse the cause of good morals." This activity on the part of a secular body was resented by the clergy, who considered that they, and not the University, were the official custodians of the public's "morals." But if it upset the clergy, it upset Ludwig still more; and, to mark his displeasure, he summarily dismissed four of the lecturers he himself had appointed. As the general body of students sided with them, they "demonstrated" in front of the house of Lola Montez, whom they held responsible.
What began as a very ordinary disturbance soon developed into something serious. Tempers ran high; brickbats were thrown, and windows smashed; there were collisions with the police, who endeavoured to arrest the ringleaders; and finally the Karolinen Platz had to be cleared by a squadron of Cuirassiers. The Alemannia, joining arms, forced a passage through which Lola managed to slip to safety and reach the gates of the Residenz. But it was, as she said, "a near thing."
The crowd relieved their feelings by breaking a few more windows; and a couple of Alemannia, detached from their comrades, were ducked in the Isar.
"Vivat, Lola!" bellowed one contingent.
"Pereat, Lola!" bellowed the opposition.
Accounts of the disturbance filtered through to England. There they attracted much attention and acid criticism.
"A lady," remarked the Examiner, "has overthrown the Holy Alliance of Southern Germany. Lola Montez, whose affecting testimony during the trial of those who killed Dujarier in a duel cannot but be remembered, was driven by that catastrophe to seek her fortunes in other realms. Chance brought her to Munich, the Sovereign of which capital has divided his time between poetry and the arts, gallantry and devotion."
"What Paphian cestus," was another sour comment, "does Lola wind round the blade of her poniard? We all remember how much the respectable Juno was indebted to the bewitching girdle of a less regular fair one, but the properties of that talisman are still undescribed."
The Thunderer, in its capacity as a European watch-dog, had its eye on Ludwig and his dalliance along the primrose path. Disapproval was registered. "The King of Bavaria," solemnly announced a leading article, "has entirely forgotten the duties and dignities of his position."
Freiherr zu Canitz, however, who had succeeded von Bülow as Minister for Foreign Affairs, looked upon Ludwig's lapse with more indulgence. "It is not," he wrote from the Wilhelmstrasse, "the first time by any means that kings have chosen to live with dancers. While such conduct is not, perhaps, strictly laudable, we can disregard it if it be accompanied by a certain measure of decorum. Still, a combination of ruler-ship and dalliance with a vagrant charmer is a phenomenon that is as much out of place as is an attempt to govern a country by writing sonnets."
Availing herself of what was then, as now, looked upon as a natural safety-valve, Lola herself wrote to the Times, giving her own version of these happenings:
I left Paris in June last on a professional trip; and, among other arrangements, decided upon visiting Munich where, for the first time, I had the honour of appearing before His Majesty and receiving from him marks of appreciation, which is not a very unusual thing for a professional person to receive at a foreign Court.
I had not been here a week before I discovered that there was a plot existing in the town to get me out of it, and that the party was the Jesuit Party.... When they saw that I was not likely to leave them, they tried what bribery would do; and actually offered me 50,000 fcs. a year if I would quit Bavaria and promise never to return. This, as you may imagine, opened my eyes; and, as I indignantly refused their offer, they have since not left a stone unturned to get rid of me.... Within this last week a Jesuit professor of philosophy at the university here, named Lasaulx, was removed. Thereupon, the party paid and hired a mob to insult me and break the windows of my house.
... Knowing that your columns are always open to protect anyone unjustly accused, and more especially when that one is an unprotected female, makes me rely upon you for the insertion of this; and I have the honour to subscribe myself, your obliged servant,
Lola Montez.
A couple of weeks later Printing House Square was favoured with a second epistle:
To the Editor of "The Times."
Munich,
March 31.
Sir:—In consequence of the numerous reports circulated in various papers regarding myself and family, I beg of you, through the medium of your widely circulated journal, to insert the following:
I was born at Seville in the year 1833; my father was a Spanish officer in the service of Don Carlos; my mother, a lady of Irish extraction, born at the Havannah, and married to an Irish gentleman, which, I suppose, is the cause of my being called sometimes Irish and sometimes English, and "Betsy Watson," and "Mrs. James," etc.
I beg leave to say that my name is Maria Dolores Porres Montez, and I have never changed that name.
As for my theatrical qualifications, I never had the presumption to think I had any. Circumstances obliged me to adopt the stage as a profession, which profession I have now renounced for ever, having become a naturalised Bavarian, and intending in future making Munich my residence.
Trusting that you will give this insertion, I have the honour to remain, Sir,
Your obedient servant,
Lola Montez.
The assumption that she had ever been known as "Betsy Watson" was due to the fact that she was said at one period to have lived under this name in Dublin, "protected there by an Irishman of rank and fortune." With regard to the rest of the letter, this was much the same as the one she had circulated after her London fiasco. It was very far from being well founded. Still, she had repeated this story so often that she had probably come to believe in it herself.
As The Times at that period was not read in Munich to any great extent, Lola, wanting a larger public, sent a letter to the Allegemeine Zeitung. This, she thought, would secure her a measure of sympathy not accorded her elsewhere:
"I object to being made a target for countless malicious attacks—public and private, written and printed—some whispered in secret, and others uttered to the world. I therefore now stigmatise as a wicked liar and perverter of the truth any individual who shall, without proving it, disseminate any report to my detriment."
The letter was duly published. The attacks, however, did not end. On the contrary, they redoubled in virulence. All sorts of fresh charges were brought against her. Many of them were quite unfounded, and deliberately ignored much that might have been put to her credit. Lola had not done nearly as much harm as some of Ludwig's lights o' love. Her predecessors, however, had made themselves subservient to the Jesuits and clericals. When her friends sent protests to the editor, refuge was taken in the stereotyped reply: "pressure on our space does not permit us to continue this correspondence."
By those who wished her ill, any stick was good enough with which to beat Lola Montez. Thus, when a dignitary died—no matter what the medical diagnosis—it was announced in the gutter press that he died of "grief, caused by the national shame." The alleged last words of a certain politician were declared to be: "I die because I cannot continue living under the orders of a strumpet who rules our dear Bavaria as if she were a princess." Ludwig took it calmly. "The real trouble with this poor fellow," he said, "is that he never experienced the revivifying effects of the love of a beautiful woman." A popular prescription. The local doctors, however, were coy about recommending it to their patients.
That the Munich disturbances had an aftermath is clear from a news item that appeared in the Cologne Gazette of July, 3, 1847. Lola, wanting a change of air and scene, had gone on a tour, travelling incognita and without any escort. Still, as she was to discover, it was impossible for her to move without being recognised:
According to letters from Bavaria, it is obvious that the animosities excited against Lola Montez earlier in the year are far from having subsided. On passing through Nuremberg, she was received with coldness, but decency. At Bamberg, however, it was very different. At the railway station she was hissed and hooted, and, stones being thrown at her carriage, she presented her pistols and threatened to punish her assailants. The upper classes were thoroughly ashamed of such excesses; and the chief magistrate has been instructed to appoint a deputation of the leading citizens to apologise to Mademoiselle.
In a letter to his brother, dated July 7, 1847, a University student says: "Lola Montez was near being assassinated three days ago," but he gives no particulars. Hence, it was probably gossip picked up in a beer hall.