he role for which Lola cast herself was that of La Pompadour to the Louis XV of Ludwig I. She had been a coryphée. Now she was a courtesan. History was repeating itself. Like an Agnes Sorel or a Jane Shore before her, she held in Munich the semi-official and quite openly acknowledged position of the King's mistress. It is said of her that she was so proud of the title and all it implied, that she would add "Maîtresse du Roi" to her signature when communicating with understrappers at the palace. Ludwig, however, thought this going too far, and peremptorily forbade the practice. Lola gave way. Perhaps the only time on record. In return, however, she advanced a somewhat embarrassing demand.
"My position as a king's favourite," she said, "entitles me to the services of a confessor and a private chapel."
Ludwig was quite agreeable, and instructed Count Reisach, the Ultramontane Archbishop of Munich, to select a priest for this responsible office. His Grace, however, reported that all the clergy in a body had protested to him that, "fearing for their virtue, they could not conscientiously accept the post."
Disappointed at the rebuff, Lola herself then applied to Dr. Windischmann, the Vicar-General, telling him that if he would undertake the office she would reciprocate by securing him a bishopric. This dignitary, however, was not to be tempted. "Madame," he said, "my confessional is in the Church of Notre-Dame; and you can always go there when you want to accuse yourself of any of the numerous sins you have committed."
Nor would His Eminence, the Primate of Poland, give any help. All he would do was to get into his carriage and set off to expostulate with the King. But it was a wasted effort, for Ludwig insisted that his relations with the conscience-stricken postulant were "nothing more than platonic." Thereupon, "the superior clergy announced that the designs of Providence were indeed inscrutable to mere mortals, but they trusted that His Majesty would at any rate change his mistress." Ludwig, however, brooking no interference with his amours, refused to do anything of the kind.
"What are you thinking about?" he stormed. "How dare you hint that I am the man to roll myself in the mud of the gutter? My feelings for this lady are of the most lofty and high-minded description. If you drive me to extremes, heaven alone knows what will happen!"
His Eminence met the outburst by whispering in the ear of the Bishop of Augsburg that the King was "possessed." As for the Bishop of Augsburg, he "wept every day." A leaky prelate.
"It is a paradox," was the expert opinion of Archbishop Diepenbrock, "that the more shameful she is, the more beautiful is a courtesan." A "Day of Humiliation," with a special prayer composed by himself, was his suggestion for mending matters; and Madame von Krüdener, not to be outdone in coming to the rescue, preached the necessity of "public penance." Thus taken to task, Ludwig solemnly declared in writing that he had "never exacted the last favours" from Lola Montez, and furnished the entire episcopal bench with a copy of this declaration.
"That only makes his folly the greater," was the caustic comment of Canitz, who was not to be deluded by eye-wash of this description.
With the passage of time, Lola's influence at the Palace grew stronger. Before long, it became abundantly clear to the Ministry that she was the real channel of approach to the King and, in fact, his political Egeria. "During that period," says T. Everett Harré, "when she was known throughout the world as the 'Uncrowned Queen of Bavaria,' Lola Montez wielded a power perhaps enjoyed by no woman since the Empress Theodora, the circus mime and courtesan, was raised to imperial estate by the Emperor Justinian." Well aware of this fact, and much as they objected to it, the Cabinet, headed by von Abel, began by attempting to win her to their side. When they failed, they put their thick heads together, and, announcing that she was an emissary of Palmerston—just as La Paiva was credited with being in Bismarck's employ—they hinted that her room was preferable to her company. The hints having no effect, other measures were adopted. Thus, Ludwig's sister offered her a handsome sum (for the second time) to leave the country, and Metternich improved on it; the Bishop of Augsburg, drying his tears, composed another and longer special prayer; the Cabinet threatened to resign; and caricatures and scurrilous paragraphs once more appeared in Munich journals. But all to no purpose. Lola refused to budge. Nothing could shake her resolve, J'y suis, j'y reste, might well have been her motto.