“The house of Lola Montez at Munich presents an elegant contrast to the large, cold, lumbering mansions, which are the greatest defect in the general architecture of the city. It is abijou, built under her own eye, by her own architect,[16]and it is quite unique in its simplicity and lightness. It is of two storeys, and, allowing for its plainness, is in the Italian style. Elegant bronze balconies from the upper windows, designed by herself, relieve the plainness of the exterior; and long, muslin curtains, slightly tinted, and drawn close, so as to cover the windows, add a transparent, shell-like lightness to the effect. Any English gentleman (Lola has a great respect for England and the English) can, on presenting his card, see the interior; but it is not a ‘show place.’ The interior surpasses everything, even in Munich, where decorative painting and internal fitting has been carried almost to perfection.We are not going to write an upholsterer’s catalogue, but as everything was done by the immediate choice and under the direction of the fair Lola, the general characteristics of the place will serve to illustrate her character. Such a tigress, one would think, would scarcely choose so beautiful a den. The smallness of the house precludes much splendour. Its place is supplied by French elegance, Munich art, and English comfort. The walls of the chief room are exquisitely painted by the first artists from the designs found in Herculaneum and Pompeii, but selected with great taste by Lola Montez. The furniture is not gaudily rich, but elegant enough to harmonise with the decorations. A small winter room, adjoining the larger one, is fitted up, quite in the English style, with papered walls, sofas, easy-chairs, all of elegant shape. A chimney, with a first-rate grate of English manufacture, and rich, thick carpets and rugs, complete the illusion; the walls are hung with pictures, among them a Raphael. There are also some of the best works of modern German painters; a good portrait of the King; and a very bad one of the mistress of the mansion. The rest of the establishment bespeaks equally the exquisite taste of the fair owner. The drawing-rooms and her boudoir are perfect gems. Books, not of a frivolous kind, borrowed from the royal library, lie about, and help to show what are the habits of this modern Amazon. Add to these a piano and a guitar, on both of which she accompanies herself with considerable taste and some skill, and an embroidery frame, at which she produces works that put to shame the best of those exhibited for sale in England; so that you see she is positively compelled at times to resort to some amusement becoming her sex, as a relief from those more masculine or unworthy occupations in which, according to her reverend enemies, she emulates alternately the example of Peter the Great and Catharine II. The rest of the appointments of the place are in keeping: the coach-house and stabling (her equipages are extremely modestand her household no more numerous or ostentatious than those of a gentlewoman of means), the culinary offices, and an exquisite bath-room, into which the light comes tinted with rose-colour. At the back of the house is a large flower-garden, in which, during the summer, most of the political consultations between the fair Countess and her sovereign are held.“For her habits of life, they are simple. She eats little, and of plain food, cooked in the English fashion; drinks little, keeps good hours, rises early, and labours much. The morning, before and after breakfast, is devoted to what we must call semi-public business. The innumerable letters she receives and affairs she has to arrange, keep herself and her secretary constantly employed during some hours. At breakfast she holds a sort oflevéeof persons of all sorts—ministersin esseorin posse, professors, artists, English strangers, and foreigners from all parts of the world. As is usual with women of an active mind, she is a great talker; but although an egotist, and with her full share of the vanity of her sex, she understands the art of conversation sufficiently never to be wearisome. Indeed, although capable of violent but evanescent passions—of deep but not revengeful animosities, and occasionally of trivialities and weaknesses very often found in persons suddenly raised to great power—she can be, and almost always is, a very charming person and a delightful companion. Her manners are distinguished, she is a graceful and hospitable hostess, and she understands the art of dressing to perfection.“The fair despot is passionately fond of homage. She is merciless in her man-killing propensities, and those gentlemen attending herlevéesor hersoirées, who are perhaps too much absorbed in politics or art to be enamoured of her personal charms, willingly pay respect to her mental attractions and conversational powers.“On the other hand, Lola Montez has many of the faults recorded of others in like situations. She loves power for its own sake; she is too hasty and too steadfastin her dislikes; she has not sufficiently learned to curb the passion which seems natural to her Spanish blood; she is capricious, and quite capable, when her temper is inflamed, of rudeness, which, however, she is the first to regret and to apologise for. One absorbing idea she has which poisons her peace. She has devoted her life to the extirpation of the Jesuits, root and branch, from Bavaria. She is too ready to believe in their active influence, and too early overlooks their passive influence. Every one whom she does not like, her prejudice transforms into a Jesuit. Jesuits stare at her in the streets, and peep out from the corners of her rooms. All the world, adverse to herself, are puppets moved to mock and annoy her by these dark and invisible agents. At the same time she has, doubtless, had good cause for this animosity; but these restless suspicions are a weakness quite incompatible with the strength of mind, the force of character, and determination of purpose she exhibits in other respects.“As a political character, she holds an important position in Bavaria, besides having agents and correspondents in various Courts of Europe. The King generally visits her in the morning from eleven till twelve, or one o’clock; sometimes she is summoned to the palace to consult with him, or with the ministers, on state affairs. It is probable that during her habits of intimacy with some of the principal political writers of Paris, she acquired that knowledge of politics and insight into the manœuvres of diplomatists and statesmen which she now turns to advantage in her new sphere of action. On foreign politics she seems to have very clear ideas; and her novel and powerful method of expressing them has a great charm for the King, who has himself a comprehensive mind. On the internal politics of Bavaria she has the good sense not to rely upon her own judgment, but to consult these whose studies and occupations qualify them to afford information. For the rest, she is treated by the political men of the country as a substantive power;and, however much they may secretly rebel against her influence, they, at least, find it good policy to acknowledge it. Whatever indiscretions she may, in other respects, commit, she always keeps state secrets, and can, therefore, be consulted with perfect safety, in cases where her original habits of thought render her of invaluable service. Acting under advice, which entirely accords with the King’s own general principles, His Majesty has pledged himself to a course of steady but gradual improvement, which is calculated to increase the political freedom and material prosperity of his kingdom, without risking that unity of power, which, in the present state of European affairs, is essential to its protection and advancement. One thing in her praise is, that although she really wields so much power, she never uses it either for the promotion of unworthy persons or, as other favourites have done, for corrupt purposes. Her creation as Countess of Landsfeld, which has alienated from her some of her most honest Liberal supporters, who wished her still to continue in rank, as well as in purposes, one of the people, while it has exasperated against her the powerless, because impoverished, nobility, was the unsolicited act of the King, legally effected with the consent of the Crown Prince. Without entrenching too far upon a delicate subject, it may be added, that she is not regarded with contempt or detestation by either the male or the female members of the Royal family. She is regarded by them rather as a political personage than as the King’s favourite. Her income, including a recent addition from the King, is seventy thousand florins, or little more than five thousand pounds. While upon this subject of her position, it may be added, that it is reported, on good authority, that the Queen of Bavaria (to whom, by the way, the King has always paid the most scrupulous attentions due to her as his wife) very recently made a voluntary communication to her husband, apparently with the knowledge of the princes and other member of the Royal family, thatshould the King desire, at any future time, that the Countess should, as a matter of right, be presented at Court, she (the Queen) would offer no obstacle.“The relation subsisting between the King of Bavaria and the Countess of Landsfeld is not of a coarse or vulgar character. The King has a highly poetical mind, and sees his favourite through his imagination. Knowing perfectly well what her antecedents have been, he takes her as she is, and finding in her an agreeable and intellectual companion, and an honest, plainspoken councillor, he fuses the reality with the ideal in one deep sentiment of affectionate respect.”
“The house of Lola Montez at Munich presents an elegant contrast to the large, cold, lumbering mansions, which are the greatest defect in the general architecture of the city. It is abijou, built under her own eye, by her own architect,[16]and it is quite unique in its simplicity and lightness. It is of two storeys, and, allowing for its plainness, is in the Italian style. Elegant bronze balconies from the upper windows, designed by herself, relieve the plainness of the exterior; and long, muslin curtains, slightly tinted, and drawn close, so as to cover the windows, add a transparent, shell-like lightness to the effect. Any English gentleman (Lola has a great respect for England and the English) can, on presenting his card, see the interior; but it is not a ‘show place.’ The interior surpasses everything, even in Munich, where decorative painting and internal fitting has been carried almost to perfection.We are not going to write an upholsterer’s catalogue, but as everything was done by the immediate choice and under the direction of the fair Lola, the general characteristics of the place will serve to illustrate her character. Such a tigress, one would think, would scarcely choose so beautiful a den. The smallness of the house precludes much splendour. Its place is supplied by French elegance, Munich art, and English comfort. The walls of the chief room are exquisitely painted by the first artists from the designs found in Herculaneum and Pompeii, but selected with great taste by Lola Montez. The furniture is not gaudily rich, but elegant enough to harmonise with the decorations. A small winter room, adjoining the larger one, is fitted up, quite in the English style, with papered walls, sofas, easy-chairs, all of elegant shape. A chimney, with a first-rate grate of English manufacture, and rich, thick carpets and rugs, complete the illusion; the walls are hung with pictures, among them a Raphael. There are also some of the best works of modern German painters; a good portrait of the King; and a very bad one of the mistress of the mansion. The rest of the establishment bespeaks equally the exquisite taste of the fair owner. The drawing-rooms and her boudoir are perfect gems. Books, not of a frivolous kind, borrowed from the royal library, lie about, and help to show what are the habits of this modern Amazon. Add to these a piano and a guitar, on both of which she accompanies herself with considerable taste and some skill, and an embroidery frame, at which she produces works that put to shame the best of those exhibited for sale in England; so that you see she is positively compelled at times to resort to some amusement becoming her sex, as a relief from those more masculine or unworthy occupations in which, according to her reverend enemies, she emulates alternately the example of Peter the Great and Catharine II. The rest of the appointments of the place are in keeping: the coach-house and stabling (her equipages are extremely modestand her household no more numerous or ostentatious than those of a gentlewoman of means), the culinary offices, and an exquisite bath-room, into which the light comes tinted with rose-colour. At the back of the house is a large flower-garden, in which, during the summer, most of the political consultations between the fair Countess and her sovereign are held.
“For her habits of life, they are simple. She eats little, and of plain food, cooked in the English fashion; drinks little, keeps good hours, rises early, and labours much. The morning, before and after breakfast, is devoted to what we must call semi-public business. The innumerable letters she receives and affairs she has to arrange, keep herself and her secretary constantly employed during some hours. At breakfast she holds a sort oflevéeof persons of all sorts—ministersin esseorin posse, professors, artists, English strangers, and foreigners from all parts of the world. As is usual with women of an active mind, she is a great talker; but although an egotist, and with her full share of the vanity of her sex, she understands the art of conversation sufficiently never to be wearisome. Indeed, although capable of violent but evanescent passions—of deep but not revengeful animosities, and occasionally of trivialities and weaknesses very often found in persons suddenly raised to great power—she can be, and almost always is, a very charming person and a delightful companion. Her manners are distinguished, she is a graceful and hospitable hostess, and she understands the art of dressing to perfection.
“The fair despot is passionately fond of homage. She is merciless in her man-killing propensities, and those gentlemen attending herlevéesor hersoirées, who are perhaps too much absorbed in politics or art to be enamoured of her personal charms, willingly pay respect to her mental attractions and conversational powers.
“On the other hand, Lola Montez has many of the faults recorded of others in like situations. She loves power for its own sake; she is too hasty and too steadfastin her dislikes; she has not sufficiently learned to curb the passion which seems natural to her Spanish blood; she is capricious, and quite capable, when her temper is inflamed, of rudeness, which, however, she is the first to regret and to apologise for. One absorbing idea she has which poisons her peace. She has devoted her life to the extirpation of the Jesuits, root and branch, from Bavaria. She is too ready to believe in their active influence, and too early overlooks their passive influence. Every one whom she does not like, her prejudice transforms into a Jesuit. Jesuits stare at her in the streets, and peep out from the corners of her rooms. All the world, adverse to herself, are puppets moved to mock and annoy her by these dark and invisible agents. At the same time she has, doubtless, had good cause for this animosity; but these restless suspicions are a weakness quite incompatible with the strength of mind, the force of character, and determination of purpose she exhibits in other respects.
“As a political character, she holds an important position in Bavaria, besides having agents and correspondents in various Courts of Europe. The King generally visits her in the morning from eleven till twelve, or one o’clock; sometimes she is summoned to the palace to consult with him, or with the ministers, on state affairs. It is probable that during her habits of intimacy with some of the principal political writers of Paris, she acquired that knowledge of politics and insight into the manœuvres of diplomatists and statesmen which she now turns to advantage in her new sphere of action. On foreign politics she seems to have very clear ideas; and her novel and powerful method of expressing them has a great charm for the King, who has himself a comprehensive mind. On the internal politics of Bavaria she has the good sense not to rely upon her own judgment, but to consult these whose studies and occupations qualify them to afford information. For the rest, she is treated by the political men of the country as a substantive power;and, however much they may secretly rebel against her influence, they, at least, find it good policy to acknowledge it. Whatever indiscretions she may, in other respects, commit, she always keeps state secrets, and can, therefore, be consulted with perfect safety, in cases where her original habits of thought render her of invaluable service. Acting under advice, which entirely accords with the King’s own general principles, His Majesty has pledged himself to a course of steady but gradual improvement, which is calculated to increase the political freedom and material prosperity of his kingdom, without risking that unity of power, which, in the present state of European affairs, is essential to its protection and advancement. One thing in her praise is, that although she really wields so much power, she never uses it either for the promotion of unworthy persons or, as other favourites have done, for corrupt purposes. Her creation as Countess of Landsfeld, which has alienated from her some of her most honest Liberal supporters, who wished her still to continue in rank, as well as in purposes, one of the people, while it has exasperated against her the powerless, because impoverished, nobility, was the unsolicited act of the King, legally effected with the consent of the Crown Prince. Without entrenching too far upon a delicate subject, it may be added, that she is not regarded with contempt or detestation by either the male or the female members of the Royal family. She is regarded by them rather as a political personage than as the King’s favourite. Her income, including a recent addition from the King, is seventy thousand florins, or little more than five thousand pounds. While upon this subject of her position, it may be added, that it is reported, on good authority, that the Queen of Bavaria (to whom, by the way, the King has always paid the most scrupulous attentions due to her as his wife) very recently made a voluntary communication to her husband, apparently with the knowledge of the princes and other member of the Royal family, thatshould the King desire, at any future time, that the Countess should, as a matter of right, be presented at Court, she (the Queen) would offer no obstacle.
“The relation subsisting between the King of Bavaria and the Countess of Landsfeld is not of a coarse or vulgar character. The King has a highly poetical mind, and sees his favourite through his imagination. Knowing perfectly well what her antecedents have been, he takes her as she is, and finding in her an agreeable and intellectual companion, and an honest, plainspoken councillor, he fuses the reality with the ideal in one deep sentiment of affectionate respect.”
THE DOWNFALL
This view of the King’s sentiments towards his favourite was not acceptable to that lady’s political enemies. It is to be observed, also, that the champions of orthodox morality are the hardest to persuade of the actual existence or possibility of virtue in the individual. It would seem at times that they doubt the efficacy of baptismal waters to wash out original sin. Morality finds strange champions in all lands. The House of Lords, the racing papers, the transpontine stage, and the Irish moon-lighters have all been found at one time or another on the side of the angels. In Bavaria in 1848 the University students, still for the greater part leavened by Ultramontane doctrines, posed as the vindicators of Christian morality, and spoke of Lola as the Scarlet Woman. With singular inconsistency they continued to profess their devotion to the King, who must have obviously been in their eyes, a partner in the woman’s guilt. The Catholic Church does not discriminate between the sexes as regards this particular offence; moreover, evil example in a prince is held by all moralists to be more serious than in a private person. Lola, also, was believed to be single; Louis was living with his wife. The man’s offence, then,would seem from every point of view to have been graver; nor could it have been excused on the ground of weakness of will or understanding, for this in a king would itself have aggravated his guilt. The undergraduates of Munich, however, being pupils of the Jesuits and presumably skilled in casuistry, would no doubt have been able to explain an attitude which appears inconsistent to the non-academic mind.
All the members of the University were not under the thumb of the clericals. Two or three students of the corps Palatia (Pfalz)—probably Protestants—did not hesitate to appear at the Countess of Landsfeld’ssalon, which was the resort of the most brilliant people in Munich. Lola’s fancy was taken by the colours of the corps, and she playfully stuck one of the young fellows’ caps on her pretty head. The students were, in consequence, expelled from their association. A large number of Liberal students thereupon seceded from their respective corps and formed a new one, appropriately called Alemannia. The new body was at once recognised by the King, and endowed with all the privileges of an ancient corps. Lola insisted upon providing every member with an exceedingly smart uniform, at her own expense, and with delight saw them establish their head-quarters in a house backing upon her own. The Alemannia became her devoted bodyguard. They watched her house, they escorted her in the street. She graced their festivals, dressed in the close-fitting uniform of the corps. Berks entertained them to a banquet at the palace of Nymphenburg, and in a stirring speech publicly commended their zeal for the cause of enlightenment, humanity and progress.
Conflicts between the Alemannen and the other corpswere frequent. The University was split into two bitterly, venomously hostile camps, and Lola’s partisans, being the fewer, seemed likely to have the worst of it. The Rector, Thiersch, intervened, and publicly took the new corps under his protection. For this act he was thanked by the King. But the mutual hatred of the factions knew no abatement. Now the wires began to feel the touch of other operators than the Jesuits. The revolutionary party was gathering strength in the winter of 1847-8. Any rod was good enough to beat a King with, and no means or agents were to be despised which would weaken his authority, and the respect in which he was held by his subjects. As to the Countess of Landsfeld, she had played her part: she had struck a mortal blow at the Jesuits, she had kept Bavaria in leash while Switzerland throttled the Sonderbund. Now, the Liberals could do without her. Her downfall would involve the King’s. The situation was promising. The Radicals determined to let the Clericals pull the chestnuts out of the fire.
The death of Görres, a former revolutionary who had turned mystic and Ultramontane in his latter years, was the signal for a formidable explosion. The police forbade any speech-making at his funeral, which took place on 31st January 1848, but were unable to prevent a pilgrimage to his grave, organised by the Ultramontane students, a week later. The corps Franconia, Bavaria, Isar, and Suabia, turned out in force. The procession soon resolved itself into a demonstration against the King’s favourite. The fierce hostile murmur of the mob reached the ears of Lola in her palace in Barerstrasse. She could, without loss of honour or dignity, have ignored the demonstration: an angrymob is a foe which a brave man hesitates to meet single-handed. But Lola Montez knew not the meaning of fear. With incredible rashness and magnificent courage she deliberately went out into the street to meet her enemies face to face. She was received with groans and insult. “Very well,” she cried, “I will have the University closed!” This haughty threat maddened the crowd. A rush was made for her. A gallant band of Alemannen closed round to defend her. Their leader, Count Hirschberg, attempted to use a dagger in his own defence, but it was wrested from him, and he was severely injured. Lola, forced at last to yield before superior numbers, retreated into the Church of the Theatines. The Catholic rowdies, not daring to violate the right of sanctuary, laid siege to the building, and were dispersed with difficulty by the military. The Ultramontanes reckoned it a glorious day; it was such, indeed, for the Countess of Landsfeld, who displayed a courage on this occasion of which no king or prince has ever given proof in any revolutionary crisis. The picture of this woman, attended only by two or three students, deliberately going out to meet a band of her infuriated enemies, is one which deserves a place in the gallery of heroic deeds.
The King immediately gave effect to Lola’s threat. On 9th February he signed a decree closing the University, and ordered all students not natives of the city to leave it within twenty-four hours. The edict threw all Munich into consternation. The departure of upwards of a thousand young men, many of them wealthy and well-connected, meant a serious blow to trade and a rending of innumerable social ties. The students marched, singing songs of adieu, to present a valedictoryaddress to the Rector. The citizens bestirred themselves, and to the number of two thousand signed a petition, imploring His Majesty to reconsider the decision. Louis inclined a favourable ear to their prayers, and announced on 10th February that the University would remain closed only for the summer term.
This act of weakness cost Louis I. his mistress and his crown.
The revolutionary party perceived that this was the moment to strike. The King had yielded; the students were exultant and conscious of their strength; the townsfolk were weary of this ceaseless conflict between the Countess and her foes. Your good, old-fashioned burgher cares nothing for the rights and wrongs of a public dispute; he wishes to be left in peace to turn a penny into three half-pence, and to achieve that end is as ready to sacrifice the innocent as the guilty. Jacob Vennedey, a publicist and Radical famous in his day, writing from Frankfort, did his utmost to fan the flame of revolution.
“The King of Bavaria,” so ran an article, “wastes the sweat of the poor country on mistresses and their followers. Everybody knows that the jewellery which Lola wore lately at the theatre cost 60,000 guldens; that her house in the Barerstrasse is a fairy palace; that the Cabinet, the Council of State, and the whole civil service are at her beck and call; that thegendarmerieand military are her particular escort; that the best Catholic professors at the University have been dismissed at her caprice. For the people nothing is done.”
The last statement was untrue. If, too, the sixtythousand guldens had come out of the people’s pockets, Lola had well earned them by her services in emancipating the country from its clerical oppressors.
Louis’s concession came too late—if it should have been made at all. On the morning of 11th February, Munich was in insurrection. Students and citizens flew to arms, and mustered in dense masses before the palace, and in the squares, loudly demanding the expulsion of the Countess of Landsfeld and the immediate reopening of the University. The situation, ministers thought, was critical. The King summoned a Cabinet Council, and was prevailed upon to accede to the demands of his insurgent subjects. He who had sworn before all the world that he would never give up Lola, now signed a decree for her banishment from Munich. To save his crown he broke all the solemn pledges he had given her. It was a base capitulation. But Louis of Bavaria was an old man, sixty-two years of age. His vows had been those of a young lover; but he wanted the youthful strength of will and hand that should have defended his mistress against an armed nation. Peace—peace—is ever the craving, the last and strongest passion of age.
The King’s surrender to their demands was made known at midday to the angry crowds before the Rathaus. The silly mob hailed with delight the downfall of the woman who had set them free to keep their own consciences, and speak their minds. The King’s decision was communicated to Lola by an aide-de-camp. She was commanded to withdraw at once from the capital. The intrepid woman could with difficulty be persuaded to credit the officer’s words. Such pusillanimity was incomprehensible to her. She could notbelieve that the King would abandon her without drawing the sword. Lieutenant Nüssbaum, at the outbreak of the disturbance, had been locked by a friend in an upper storey room to keep him out of danger, but at the risk of breaking his neck, the young officer had jumped from the window and hastened to offer his sword to the defenceless woman; but the King of Bavaria had surrendered without striking a blow. His own signature at last satisfied Lola of this. She looked up and down the street. No—there was not a single soldier orgendarmeto protect her. Not for an instant did her nerve forsake her. With a smiling face she quitted the house where she had for nearly a year directed the fortunes of a kingdom. She took the Augsburg train, as ifen routefor Lindau; but alighted at a wayside station and drove to Blutenburg, a few miles from Munich, three of her faithful Alemannen—Peisner, Hertheim, and Laibinger—escorting her.
The rabble, who feared her manlike valour, did not attempt to molest her in her retreat, but having made sure that she was gone, they broke into her house, pillaging and wrecking. A curious, unaccountable impulse drew the King to the spot, where he must have passed many of the happiest hours of his life. With strange emotions he must have watched the human swine routing in this bower of Venus. He stood there, a pathetic figure—an old man surveying the wreckage of his last and supreme passion. Unheeded and seemingly unrecognised, he was suddenly dealt a violent blow on the head, probably by a revolutionary agent, and tottered back to his palace, bruised and dazed.
The next night, disguised in man’s clothes, Lola the intrepid slipped back into Munich, and took refuge inthe house of her loyal partisan, Berks. She sent a secret message to the King, confident that if she could see him, she could regain her power. Those must have been anxious moments, while she was awaiting the reply. It came at last, in the form of a letter brought by two police commissaries, Weber and Dichtl. The King refused to see her, and wished that he had come to that decision before. She turned to the officials. They read an order for her expulsion from Bavaria. Lola tore the document to pieces and threw them in their faces. Not till they presented their pistols at her bosom did she consent to accompany them. It was reported that she had been sent to Lindau on the Bodensee, thence to be conducted into Switzerland. In reality, Louis had selected for her the oddest and most fantastic place of seclusion. The mental crisis through which he had passed seems to have weakened his understanding, and he actually was persuaded by his new clerical friends that Lola’s power over him was due to witchcraft. These enlightened Ultramontanes repeated some ridiculous yarn about a great black bird that visited her room by night. At a place called Weinsberg lived a man named Justinus Kerner, who exercised the profession of an exorcist or expeller of devils. To this person’s custody was Lola confided on 17th February, as was first learnt from the charlatan’s letters, published some ten or fifteen years ago.[17]In one of these he says:—
“Lola Montez arrived here the day before yesterday, accompanied by three Alemannen. It is vexatious that the King should have sent her to me, but theyhave told him that she is possessed. Before treating her with magic and magnetism, I am trying the hunger cure. I allow her only thirteen drops of raspberry water, and the quarter of a wafer. Tell no one about this—burn this letter.”
To another correspondent Kerner writes:—
“Lola has grown astonishingly thin. My son, Theobald, has mesmerised her, and I let her drink asses’ milk.”
That the fiery, man-compelling Countess should have submitted to this disagreeable tomfoolery, certainly seems to suggest hypnotic influence. It is not unlikely that from the strain of the preceding few days a nervous breakdown had resulted. Or, again, she may have lingered on at Kerner’s, in the hope that the King’s love for her would revive. But before the month of February was over she had shaken off for ever the dust of Bavaria, and was safe in free Switzerland. Peisner, Hertheim, and Laibinger followed her into exile. Lieutenant Nüssbaum, dismissed from the Bavarian army because of his devotion to her, found a soldier’s grave before the redoubts of Düppel.
THE RISING OF THE PEOPLES
Louis of Bavaria had sacrificed his self-respect and the woman he loved to wear the crown a few years longer. The sacrifice proved futile. The expulsion of the strongest personality in Bavaria was merely the first act in the programme of the revolutionary party. On 24th February the King of the French was hurled from his throne, and every sovereign in Europe trembled. The spirit of the Revolution spread from state to state with amazing rapidity. Encouraged by the King’s late compliance, the citizens of Munich once more gathered in their strength and demanded that the Chambers should be convoked forthwith. Louis refused to summon a Parliament before the end of May. Nor would he consent to the dismissal of Berks. On the 2nd March barricades were erected in the principal streets, and two days later the arsenal was attacked by the people, and carried after a short struggle. Again Louis yielded to his fears, and dismissed the unpopular minister; again the surrender came too late. The spark of insurrection in Munich had now become absorbed in the mighty flame of a great European revolution. Everywhere the people were feeling their strength. The Middle Ages, even in Germany, had at last come toan end. Six thousand men, armed with muskets, swords, hatchets, and pikes, surged round the royal palace. In the market-place, the troops were ordered to fire on the insurgents. They remained motionless, leaning on their muskets. Some one called for cheers for the Republic; the crowd responded heartily. Then up rode Prince Charles of Bavaria, the King’s brother, and announced that His Majesty had conceded all the demands of his people and pledged his royal word to summon the Chambers on the 16th of the month. With this assurance the excited people feigned to be content, and returned to their homes.
But the opening of the Parliamentary session was attended by a renewal of the disturbances. A report circulated that the Countess of Landsfeld had returned to the city. The silly people again flew to arms, and demolished the ministry of police. To calm the tumult the King published a decree, withdrawing the rights of citizenship from his exiled favourite, and forbidding her to re-enter his dominions. With this disgraceful act of violence to his personal feelings, Louis lost all taste for kingship. Rumours of his impending abdication spread through the capital, and now the democratic party stood in fear of an Ultramontane conspiracy to defeat their own policy. More rioting ensued. The Landwehr were eager to rescue the King from the hands of his supposed enemies in the palace. But the old man was weary of the whole comedy, and craved only peace. On 21st March 1848 he took leave of his people in the following proclamation:—
“Bavarians,—A new state of feeling has begun—a state which differs essentially from that embodied inthe Constitution according to which I have governed the country twenty-three years. I abdicate my crown in favour of my beloved son, the Crown Prince Maximilian. My government has been in strict accordance with the Constitution; my life has been dedicated to the welfare of my people. I have administered the public money and property as if I had been a republican officer, and I can boldly encounter the severest scrutiny. I offer my heartfelt thanks to all who have adhered to me faithfully, and though I descend from the throne, my heart still glows with affection for Bavaria and for Germany.Louis.”
“Bavarians,—A new state of feeling has begun—a state which differs essentially from that embodied inthe Constitution according to which I have governed the country twenty-three years. I abdicate my crown in favour of my beloved son, the Crown Prince Maximilian. My government has been in strict accordance with the Constitution; my life has been dedicated to the welfare of my people. I have administered the public money and property as if I had been a republican officer, and I can boldly encounter the severest scrutiny. I offer my heartfelt thanks to all who have adhered to me faithfully, and though I descend from the throne, my heart still glows with affection for Bavaria and for Germany.
Louis.”
Less than six weeks thus elapsed between the downfall of Lola Montez and the dethronement of the king who had not been man enough to uphold her. Had the positions been reversed—had the woman been able to command one tithe of the forces of which Louis could dispose—not the most powerful coalition of parties would have driven her from the throne without the bloodiest of struggles. In her, as was said of the Duchesse de Berry, there was mind and heart enough for a dozen kings. The country that so angrily threw off the unofficial yoke of its one strong-minded ruler, has since acknowledged the sway of two raving madmen. The Bavarians prefer King Log to King Stork.
Louis soon recovered his popularity with his late subjects. The cares and ambitions of kingship put aside, the tempestuous emotions of manhood at last exhausted, the old man was now free to devote himself wholly to his first and last love, Art. Though now a private person, his interest in the embellishment of Munich and the enrichment of the city’s collections never waned. He maintained more than one residence in Bavaria, and was indeed a familiar and well-likedfigure in the streets of his old capital; but most of his remaining years he spent wandering in Italy and the south of France. He lived to witness the expulsion of his son, Otto, from the throne of Greece; the death of his other son and successor, Maximilian II.; and the humiliation of his country by the arms of ever-broadening Prussia. But he could always find consolation in the contemplation of the beautiful, and in the society of men of wit and genius. The last twenty years of his life were, perhaps, the happiest he had known. He died at Nice on 29th February 1868, in the eighty-third year of his age. You may see his equestrian statue at Munich, but the whole city is virtually his monument. A great man he was not, but he was the greatest king Bavaria has yet known. So he passed from the stage of history:—
“A courteous prince, and sociable, sympathetic gentleman; a poet, too, in a small way, taking off his diamond collar at Weimar, and putting it round Goethe’s neck; he had a gracious, winning, kingly way of his own, and many as were his faults and his foibles, neither his son nor his grandson supplanted him in the affections of the Bavarian people.”[18]
LOLA IN SEARCH OF A HOME
“Her last hope for Bavaria being broken,” Lola (to use her own words) “turned her attention towards Switzerland, as the nearest shelter from the storm that was beating above her head. She had influenced the King of Bavaria to withhold his consent from a proposition by Austria, which had for its object the destruction of that little republic of Switzerland. If republics are ungrateful, Switzerland certainly was not so to Lola Montez; for it received her with open arms, made her its guest, and generously offered to bestow an establishment upon her for life.”
At Bern, the quaint, beautiful old city of fountains and arcades, the deposed dictatrix of Bavaria found a pleasant asylum. She was greeted with especial cordiality by the English Chargé d’Affaires, Mr. Robert Peel (son of the more celebrated statesman of the same name), whose fine presence, gaiety of manner, and brilliant conversational powers rendered him a universal favourite. Peel was a warm supporter of the anti-clerical policy of the Government to which he was accredited, and on political grounds alone, must have felt the strongest sympathy for the Countess of Landsfeld. Peisner, Hertheim, and Laibinger seem to have at last parted company with Lola at Bern, for a letter in her handwriting is preserved, dated from that city, 2ndMarch 1848, alluding to their probable departure, and directing that a packet be forwarded to Peisner.
From the terraces of Bern, Lola looked forth over Europe and beheld the utter discomfiture of her enemies. If she craved revenge, here was enough and a surfeit. Metternich, the mighty minister, whose gold had contributed to her undoing, was dismissed and driven into exile after forty years of unquestioned sway. Everywhere Liberal principles were in the ascendant. Louis of Bavaria, who had not dared to save her, had now shown himself unable to defend his own throne. Lola must have been more than human if she experienced no inward exultation at the downfall of those who had basely abandoned her. The reign of her clerical foes and conquerors had indeed been short-lived. Too late did they realise that they had been merely the instruments of their natural antagonists, the extreme revolutionary party.
But if the situation of Europe in the spring of 1848 afforded satisfaction to Lola’s vindictive instincts, it offered little incentive to her ambition. The men who were shaping the nation’s destinies were cast in the stern, republican mould, and disdained to use the charms and wiles of a woman in the furtherance of their ends. Issues were being fought out on the battlefield, not in the boudoir. Nor did any state, from the Baltic to the Mediterranean, present even such slight evidences of stability as a high-flying adventuress might found her plans upon. To re-enter the political arena at such a moment was to plunge headlong into a whirlpool. The old order had changed. The world, hardly tolerant of kings, would no longer brook the domination of their favourites, wise or unwise. The princes pulled longfaces, and swore that the Constitution and the Catechism should be henceforward their only rule of life. They vowed to live like respectable citizens, indulging their amiable weaknesses only in privacy. Pericles must no longer converse on affairs of state with Aspasia in the market place. Beauty must exert what power it could in the boudoir and on the back stairs. For half a century woman as a political factor almost ceased to be. Only in our own day has her voice again been heard, demanding in stern, menacing tones her right to a larger, nobler part in the councils of the nations than the Pompadours and Maintenons ever dreamed of.
Weary, it may be conceived, of affairs of state, of strife and intrigue, conscious that she had played in her greatestrôle, the Countess of Landsfeld quitted Switzerland, once more to try her fortunes in England. She had stepped down from the throne for ever. She embarked for London at Rotterdam on 8th April 1848. By the irony of fate, it was ordered that the bitterest, and once the most powerful, of her foes, the fallen minister, Metternich, should be waiting at the same port seeking the same destination. The news of the Chartist demonstration alone prevented him sailing by the same vessel. “I thank God,” he piously remarks, “for having preserved me from contact with her.” Assuredly, the meeting would have been a painful and ignominious one for the fallen minister, at any rate.
Lola’s arrival in the troubled state of England passed almost unnoticed. She determined to try her fortunes once more upon the stage, and found, of course, as a celebrity, that she waspersona gratato the managers and agents. The directors of Covent Garden conceivedthe ingenious idea of presenting her as herself in a dramatic representation of the recent events at Munich. The play was written and entitled, “Lola Montez, ou la Comtesse d’une Heure,” but the Lord Chamberlain declined to license a performance in which living royal personages were introduced.[19]The scheme fell through, and Lola, having a private income to fall back upon, retired into lodgings at 27 Halfmoon Street, Mayfair. There “she invited a few men, including myself,” writes the Hon. F. Leveson Gower, “to visit her in the evening. She had lost much of her good looks, but her animated conversation was entertaining.”[20]The journalist, George Augustus Sala, then a very young man, describes Lola on the contrary, as a very handsome lady, “originally the wife of a solicitor,” whom he met at a little cigar-shop, under the pillars, in Norreys Street, Regent Street. She proposed that he should write her life, “starting with the assumption that she was a daughter of the famous matador, Montes.”[21]Lola’s imaginative powers, especially when directed to inventing romantic origins for herself, rivalled those of the heroine of “The Dynamiter.” Lord Brougham, that learned but relatively susceptible Chancellor, she also claimed acquaintance with; he lived not far from her, in Grafton Street. It is probable that a woman of Lola’s beauty, wit, and remarkable attainments would have numbered the most brilliant and distinguished men in London among her associates, whatever attitude may have been assumed towards her by the little clique of prigs and prudes that arrogated to itself the title of Society.
A SECOND EXPERIMENT IN MATRIMONY
The company of any number of agreeable men about town and the amenities of life in a Mayfair lodging-house were not, however, likely to content a woman who had lately ruled a kingdom. Experience, it is true, had taught Lola to set limits to her ambition. She had succeeded in her design of hooking a prince, but the catch had been torn off the hook with considerable violence to the angler. It was of no use again to cast her line into royal waters. The fish were now too wary. After the ordeal through which she had passed, Lola sighed for some enduring ties and an established position. She yearned as the most fiery and erratic do at one time or another, for a home. Some think that they who have loved most, love best; but I imagine Lola was a trifle weary of love just then, and longed for some felicity more stable and material. She inclined, in fact, towards the sweet yoke of domesticity, which was quite a fashionable institution in England at that time. Among her visitors was a Mr. George Trafford Heald, son of a rich Chancery barrister, and a cornet in the Second Life Guards. This gallant officer is described as a tall young man, of juvenile figure and aspect, with straight hair and small lightbrown downy mustachios and whiskers; his turned-up nose gave him an air of great simplicity. As, however, he had, on his coming of age in January 1849, inherited a fortune of between six and seven thousand pounds per annum, he was considered, especially by unattached ladies, in and out of society, a very interesting person. He was very much in love with the Countess of Landsfeld who, no doubt, easily persuaded herself that she entertained a strong affection for so eligible a suitor. In this respect Lola was, it is safe to say, no more mercenary than half the good and well-brought-up young ladies who were looking out for a good match that season. Heald seems to have been what women call a nice boy; in many ways he probably contrasted favourably with Lola’s bolder, more experienced wooers. So when (with many blushes, and in shy stammering words, I doubt not) he offered the adventuress his hand and heart and fortune, she was able without any natural repugnance to consent to be his wife.
That she ever doubted that she was free to wed again is not to be supposed. In all likelihood, she had been made acquainted with her divorce from Captain James only through the medium of the newspapers, and these would lead any one to believe that the divorce had been made absolute. It was, therefore, without any apprehension that she married Cornet Heald at St. George’s, Hanover Square, on 19th July 1849. As she left the church on the arm of her youthful husband, she must have thought half-regretfully of the career of adventure that was ended, and yet looked forward with complacency to the life of respectability and affluence that seemed to stretch before her.
Vain hope! By the common domestic women of her time Lola was regarded with bitter hatred. It is unnecessary to analyse this species of animosity. It is compounded, apparently, of jealousy, of some vague religious sentiment of inherited prejudice, and of the trade-unionist’s dislike for the blackleg. This attitude, though instinctive, is not unreasonable on the part of the vast numbers of women who consider marriage a profession, but it is more difficult to understand in the case of an aged lady, long since resigned to celibacy. Such a spinster was Miss Susanna Heald, of Headington Grove, Horncastle, the aunt of Cornet George. This lady manifested great displeasure at her nephew’s marriage; and, certain facts having been communicated to her by Lola’s numerous enemies, she forthwith set in motion that efficient engine of man’s injustice, the English law.
The honeymoon of the newly-wed pair, if they had one at all, was brief, for it was on 6th August, at nine o’clock in the morning, as the Countess of Landsfeld was stepping into her carriage, at 27 Halfmoon Street, that Police Sergeant Gray and Inspector Whall quietly requested a word or two with her. They explained that they held a warrant for her arrest on a charge of bigamy, she having intermarried with Cornet Heald while her lawful husband, Captain James, was still alive. Lola replied that she had been divorced from the captain by an act of Parliament. She added with characteristic petulence: “I don’t know whether Captain James is alive or not, and I don’t care. I was married in a wrong name, and it wasn’t a legal marriage. Lord Brougham was present when the divorce was granted, and Captain Osborne can prove it. Whatwill the King say?” she murmured, as an after-thought, and referring no doubt to her late royal protector.
They drove to the police-station, and thence to Marlborough Street Police Court. The rumour of the arrest had spread abroad, and the approaches to the court were thronged with people, eager to get a glimpse of the famous Countess of Landsfeld. The “respectable married women” in the crowd no doubt exulted at the anticipated downfall of the woman who could bind men’s hearts without the chains of law or Church.
“About half-past one o’clock,” says the reporter, “the Countess of Landsfeld, leaning on the arm of Mr. Heald, her present husband, came into court, and was accommodated with a seat in front of the bar. Mr. Heald was also allowed to have a chair beside her. The lady appeared quite unembarrassed, and smiled several times as she made remarks to her husband. She was stated to be 24 years of age on the police-sheet, but has the look of a woman of at least 30. [She was, in fact, 31.] She was dressed in black silk, with close fitting black velvet jacket, a plain white straw bonnet trimmed with blue, and blue veil. In figure she is rather plump, and of middle height, of pale dark complexion, the lower part of the features symmetrical, the upper part not so good, owing to rather prominent cheek bones, but set off by a pair of unusually large blue eyes with long black lashes. Her reputed husband, Mr. Heald, during the whole of the proceedings, sat with the countess’s hand clasped in both of his own, occasionally giving it a fervent squeeze, and at particular parts of the evidence whispering to her with the fondest air, and pressing her hand to his lips with juvenile warmth.”[22]
The magistrate, Mr. Peregrine Bingham, havingtaken his seat, Mr. Clarkson opened the case for the prosecution. “Sir,” he began, “however painful the circumstances under which the lady who sits at my left (Miss Heald) is placed, she has felt it to be a duty to her deceased brother, the father of the young gentleman now in court, to lay before you the evidence of this young gentleman’s marriage with the lady at the bar, and also other evidence which has led her to impute the offence of bigamy to that lady.” The learned counsel then went on to state that Lola had been married to Thomas James in Ireland, in July 1837, that a divorce only atoro et mensâ(i.e., a judicial separation) had been pronounced by the Consistory Court in 1842, and that Captain James was alive in India thirty-six days before the celebration of the second marriage with Heald. He deprecated any sort of allusion to the defendant’s distinction or notoriety, concluding: “I am further bound to state that this proceeding is on the part of the aunt, Miss Heald, without the consent of Mr. Heald, her nephew, who would, no doubt, if he could, prevent these proceedings from being carried on. No one, I think, will venture to impugn the motives or the purity of the intentions of Miss Heald in taking this step. My application is for the lady at the bar to be remanded till we can get the proper witnesses from India to come forward.”
Miss Heald, who went into the witness-box, explained her relationship to the accused’s second husband, said she had been his guardian, and stated she considered it was her duty to prosecute this enquiry. When old ladies do any one a bad turn or make themselves a nuisance, they always explain that they are prompted by a sense of duty. For my part, I take up the challengethrown down sixty years ago by Mr. Clarkson, and I impugn the purity of his client’s motives. If it had been her object to prevent any family complications in the future, such as might have arisen from the birth of children to Lola and her nephew, she could have laid the facts before them in private; and if they had refused to separate, she should have remained for ever silent. I entertain no doubt whatever that Miss Susanna Heald wished to ruin the Countess of Landsfeld, and that this was at any rate one of her motives in instituting police court proceedings.
The rest of the evidence was purely formal, and included the testimony of Captain Ingram, in whose ship Lola had come to England seven years before.
Mr. Bodkin appeared on behalf of the lady, who had been dragged that morning to a station-house, to answer a charge which, in all his professional experience, was perfectly unparalleled. He never recollected a case of bigamy in which neither the first nor the second husband came forward in the character of a complaining party. The matter, would, however, undergo investigation, and if anything illegal had been done, those who had done the illegality would be held responsible for their conduct. As far as the proof had gone he was willing to admit enough had been laid before the court to justify further enquiry. At the proper time he should be prepared to show that the marriage with Mr. Heald was a lawful act. It would seem that the lady had been married when about fifteen or sixteen years old, and that a divorce had taken place. It was evident that the lady had a strong impression that a divorce bill had been obtained in the House of Lords. This, however, might be a mistake, into which the lady would belikely to fall from her ignorance of our laws. Enough had been stated to show that even had the imputed offence been committed, it had been committed in circumstances that appeared to justify the act. He asked the court to admit the lady to bail, to appear upon such a day as might be agreed upon. It was in the highest degree improbable that the parties most interested would attempt to evade an enquiry of this sort. He made no reflection on the motives of the prosecution, but it must be clear that a private and not a public object originated the proceedings.
Mr. Bodkin had not detected the flaw in his adversary’s case, and he had conceded too much to the prosecution. The magistrate’s decision must have mortified his professional feelings as much as it chagrined the amiable Miss Heald.