"Lola Montes," she wrote, "has actually been created Countess of Landsfeld. She is really a member of the Radical Party.... Rechberg, who has just arrived from Brazil, was alarmed on his journey at Munich by the events of which this town is the theatre. The shocking conduct of Lola Montes will finish by plunging the country into revolution."
This was looking ahead. Still, not very far ahead. The correspondent of a London paper in the Bavarian capital did not mince his words. "The indignation," he wrote, "against the King on account of his scandalous conduct, has been roused to the highest pitch.... King Ludwig, who possesses many good qualities, is, unfortunately, a very licentious old man.... Neither the tears of the Queen, nor the entreaties of his sons, nor the public's indignation, could influence the old monarch, who has become the slave of his silly passion and of the caprices of a Spanish dancer and Parisian lorette."
Once more, Ludwig "dropped into verse," and relieved his feelings about his enemies. This time, however, the verse was blank:
You have driven me from my Paradise,
You have closed it for ever with iron grilles.
You have turned my days into bitterness.
You would even like to make me hate you
Because I have loved too much to please your withered spirits.
The perfume of my spring-time is dissipated,
But my courage still remains.
Youth, always bounding in my dreams, rests there,
Embracing my heart with fresh force!
You who would like to see me covered with shame,
Tremble!
You have committed sins against me and vomited injuries.
Your wicked acts have judged you.
There has never been anything to equal them!
Already the clouds disappear;
The storm passes;
The sky lights up;
I bless the dawn.
Ungrateful worms, creep back to your darkness!
There were repercussions across the Atlantic, where the role played by Lola Montez in Bavarian circles was arousing considerable interest. American women saw in it a message of encouragement for the aspirations they themselves were cherishing. "The moral indignation which her political opponents exhibited," said a leading jurist, "was unfortunately a mere sham. They had not only tolerated, but had actually patronised, a female who formerly held the equivocal position which the Countess of Landsfeld recently held, because the former made herself subservient to the then dominant party."
But, just as Lola had staunch friends in Munich, so had she pronounced enemies. Conspicuous among them was Johann Görres, a leading Ultramontane who held the position of professor of history at the University. He could not say anything strong enough against the King's mistress, and did all he could to upset her influence with him. As he had a "following," some measure of success attended his efforts. It was on his death, in January 1848, that matters came to a head. The rival factions dividing the various students' corps made his funeral the occasion of a free fight among themselves. The mob joined in, and clamoured for the dismissal of the "Andalusian Woman." A hothead suggested that she should be driven from the town. The cry was taken up, and a rush set in towards her house in the Barerstrasse. As there was an agreeable prospect of loot, half the scum of the city swelled the mob. Bricks were hurled through the windows; and, until the police arrived, things began to look ugly.
Lola, as cool as a cucumber, appeared on the balcony, a glass of champagne in one hand, and a box of chocolates in the other.