"I drink to your good healths," she said contemptuously, as she drained her glass and tossed bon-bons among the crowd.
Not appreciating this gesture, or regarding it as an impertinence, the temper of the rabble grew threatening. They shouted vulgar insults; and there was talk of battering in the doors and setting the house on fire. This might have happened, had not Ludwig himself, who never lacked personal courage, plunged into the throng and, offering Lola his arm, escorted her to the Residenz.
The disturbances continued, for tempers had reached fever pitch. Troops hastily summoned from the nearest barracks patrolled the streets. A furious crowd assembled in front of the Rathaus; the burgomaster, fearing for his position, talked of reading the Riot Act; a number of arrests were made; and it was not until the next afternoon that the coast was sufficiently clear for Lola to return to the Barerstrasse, triumphantly escorted by some members of the Alemannia. When, however, they left her there, they were set upon by detachments of the Palatia Corps, who still cherished a grudge against them.
Lola's own account of these happenings, and written as if by a detached onlooker, is picturesque, if somewhat imaginative:
"They came with cannons and guns and swords, with the voices of ten thousand devils, and surrounded her little castle. Against the entreaties of her friends, she presented herself before the infuriated mob which demanded her life.... A thousand guns were pointed at her, and a hundred fat and apoplectic voices fiercely demanded that she should cause the repeal of what she had done. In language of great mildness—for it was no time to scold—she answered that it was impossible for her to accede to such a request; and that what had been done by her had been done for the good of the people and the honour of Bavaria."
After this "demonstration," there was a calm. But not for long. On the evening of February 10, a rabble assembled in front of the Palace, raising cries of: "Down with Lola Montez!" "Down with the King's strumpet!" As the protestors consisted largely of students (whom Thiersch, the rector, being no disciplinarian, could not keep in check), Ludwig's response was drastic. He ordered the University to be shut, and all its members who did not live in Munich to leave the town within twenty-four hours. This was a tactical blunder, and was in great measure responsible for the more serious repercussions of the following month. Apart, too, from other considerations, the edict hit the pockets of the local tradesmen, since the absence of a couple of thousand hungry and thirsty customers had an adverse effect on the consumption of sauerkraut and beer.
As she was still "news" in Paris, a gossiping columnist suggested her return there:
Lola Montez laments the Notre-Dame de Lorette district, the joyous little supper-parties at the Café Anglais, and the theatrical first nights viewed from stage boxes. "Ah," she must reflect, as she looks upon her coronet trodden underfoot and hears the sinister murmurs of the Munich mob, "how delightful Paris would be this evening! What a grand success I would be in the new ballet at the Opera or at a ball at the Winter Garden!" Alas, my poor Lola, your whip is broken; your prestige is gone; you have lost your talisman. Do not battle against the jealous Bavarians. Come back to Paris, instead. If the Porte St. Martin won't have you, you can always rejoin the corps de ballet at the Opera.
Lola, however, did not accept the invitation. She was virtually a prisoner in her own house, where, the next afternoon, a furious gathering assembled, threatening to wreak vengeance on her. Never lacking a high measure of courage, she appeared on the balcony and told them to do their worst. They did it and attempted to effect an entrance by breaking down the door. But for the action of the Alemannia, rallying to her help, she might have been severely handled.
One of her bodyguard managed to make his way to the nearest barracks and summon assistance. Thereupon, the bugles rang out the alarm; the drums beat a warning call. In response, a squadron of Cuirassiers clattered up the Barerstrasse; sabres rattled; and the rioters fled precipitously.