IV
Bavaria was the key position in the sphere of European politics just then. Ludwig, however, had dallied with the situation too long. Nothing that he could do now would save him. Unrest was in the air. All over Europe the tide of democracy was rising, and fast threatening to engulf the entrenched positions of the autocrats. Metternich, reading the portents, was planning to leave a mob-ridden Vienna for the more tranquil atmosphere of Brighton; Louis Philippe, setting him an example, had already fled from Paris; and Prince William of Prussia, shaving off his moustache (and travelling on a false passport), was hurrying to England while the going was still good. With these examples to guide them, the Bavarians, tired of soft promises and smooth words, were clamouring for a fresh hand at the helm. Realising that the choice lay between this and a republic, Ludwig bowed to the inevitable; and, with crocodile tears and hypocritical protestations of good faith, surrendered his sceptre. To give the decision full effect, he issued a Proclamation:
"Bavarians! A new condition has arisen. This differs substantially from the one under which I have governed you for twenty-three years. Accordingly, I lay down my sceptre in favour of my beloved son, Prince Maximilian. I have always governed you with full regard for your welfare. Had I been a mere clerk, I could not have worked more strenuously; had I been a Minister of Finance, I could not have devoted more attention to the requirements of my country. I thank God that I can look the whole world fearlessly in the face and there confront the most scrutinising eye. Although I now relinquish my crown, I can assure you that my heart still beats as warmly as ever for Bavaria.
"Munich,
March 21, 1848."
Ludwig's signature to this mixture of rigmarole and bombast was followed by those of his sons, the Princes Maximilian Luitpold, Adalbert, and Carl. As for Maximilian, the new sovereign, he, rather than risk being thrown out of the saddle, was prepared to make a clean sweep of a number of existing grievances. As an earnest of his intentions, he promised, in the course of a frothy oration, to grant an amnesty to political prisoners, liberty of the press, the abolition of certain taxes, the institution of trial by jury, and a long delayed reform of the franchise.
With the idea, no doubt, of filling the vacancy in his affections caused by the abrupt departure of Lola Montez, Fräulein Schroder, a young actress at the Hof Theatre, endeavoured to comfort Ludwig in his retirement. He, however, was beyond forming any fresh contacts.
"My happiness is gone from me," he murmured sadly. "I cannot stop in a capital to which I have long given a father's loving care."
Firm in this resolve, he left Munich for the Riviera and took a villa among the olives and oranges of Nice. There he turned over a fresh leaf. But he did not stop writing poetry. Nor did he stop writing to the woman who was still in his thoughts. One ardent epistle that followed her into exile ran in this fashion:
Oh, my Lolita! A ray of sunshine at the break of day! A stream of light in an obscured sky! Hope ever causes chords long forgotten to resound, and existence becomes once again pleasant as of yore. Such were the feelings which animated me during that night of happiness when, thanks to you alone, everything was sheer joy. Thy spirit lifted up mine out of sadness; never did an intoxication equal the one I then felt!
Thou hast lost thy gaiety; persecution has stripped you of it; and has robbed you of your health. The happiness of your life is already disturbed. But now, and more solidly than ever, are you attached to me. Nobody will ever be able to separate us. You have suffered because you love me.
When accounts of what was happening in Bavaria reached England a well pickled rod was applied to Lola's back:
"The sanguinary and destructive conduct of the Munich mob," began a furious leading article, "was caused by the supposed return of Bavaria's famous strumpet, Lola Montez. This heroine was once familiar to the eyes of all Paris, and notorious as a courtesan. When she was invested with a title, the Bavarians shuddered at their degradation. It was nothing less than an outrage on the part of royalty, never to be forgotten or forgiven."
The columns of Maga also wielded the rod in vigorous fashion:
"The late King, one of the most accomplished of dilettanti, worst of poets, and silliest of men, had latterly put the coping-stone to a life of folly by engaging in a most bare-faced intrigue with the notorious Lola Montez. The indecency and infatuation of this last liaison—far more openly conducted than any of his former numerous amours—had given intense umbrage to the nobility whom he had insulted by elevating the ci-devant opera-dancer to their ranks."
Yet, with all his faults heavy upon him, Ludwig, none the less, had his points. Thus, in addition to converting Munich from a second-rate town to a really important capital, he did much to encourage the development of art and letters and science and education throughout his kingdom. Ignaz Döllinger, the theologian, Joseph Görres, the historian, Jean Paul Richter, the poet, Franz Schwanthaler, the sculptor, and Wilhelm Thirsch, the philosopher, with Richard Wagner and a host of others basked in his patronage. When he died, twenty years later, these facts were remembered and his little slips forgotten. The Müncheners gave him burial in the Basilica; and an equestrian statue, bearing the inscription, "Just and Persevering," was set up in the Odeon-Platz.
It is the fashion among certain historians to charge Lola Montez with responsibility for the revolution in Bavaria. But this charge is not justified. The fact is, the kingdom was ripe for revolution; and the equilibrium of the government was so unstable that Ludwig would have lost his crown, whether she was in the country or not.
It is just as well to remember this.