LUDWIG THE LOVER
I
Lola Montez had done better than "hook a prince." A lot better. She
had now "hooked" a sovereign. Her ripe warm beauty sent the thin blood
coursing afresh through Ludwig's sluggish veins. There it wrought a
miracle. He was turned sixty, but he felt sixteen.
The conversation of Robert Burns is said to have "swept a duchess off
her feet." Perhaps it did. But that of Lola Montez had a similar
effect on a monarch. Under the magic of her spell, this one became
rejuvenated. The years were stripped from him; he was once more a boy.
With his charmer beside him, he would wander through the Nymphenburg
Woods and under the elms in the Englischer Garten, telling her of his
dreams and fancies. His passion for Greece was forgotten. Pericles was
now Romeo.
_In dem Suden ist die Liebe,
Da ist Licht und da ist Glut!_
that is,
In the south there is love,
There is light and there is heat,
sang Ludwig.
Yet Lola Montez was not by any means the first who ever burst into the
responsive heart of Ludwig I. She had many predecessors there. One of
them was an Italian syren. But that Lola soon ousted her is clear from
a poetical effort of which the royal troubadour was delivered. This
begins:
_Tropfen der Seligkeit und ein Meer von bitteren Leiden
Die Italienerin gab--Seligkeit, Seligkeit nur
Lässest Du mich entzündend, begeistert, befändig empfinden,
In der Spanierin fand Liebe und Leben ich nur!_
A free rendering of this passionate heart throb would read very much
as follows:
Drops of bliss and a sea of bitter sorrow
The Italian woman gave me. Bliss, only bliss,
Thou gav'st my enraptured heart and soul and spirit.
In the Spanish woman alone have I found Love and Life!
Ludwig had a prettier name for his inamorata than the "feminine devil"
of Henry LXXII of Reuss. He called her the "Lovely Andalusian" and the
"Woman of Spain." She also inspired him to fresh poetic flights. One
of these ran:
Thine eyes are blue as heavenly vaults
Touched by the balmy air;
And like the raven's plumage is
Thy dark and glistening hair!
There were several more verses.
A feature of the Residenz Palace was a collection of old masters.
Wanting to add a young mistress, Ludwig allotted a place of honour
among them to a portrait of Lola Montez, from the brush of Josef
Stieler. The work was well done, for the artist was inspired by his
subject; and he painted her wearing a costume of black velvet, with a
touch of colour added by red carnations in her head-dress.
Ludwig's heart being large, _Die Schönheitengalerie_ (as the "Gallery
of Beauties" was called) filled two separate rooms. The one
qualification for securing a niche on the walls being a pretty face,
the collection included the Princess Alexandra of Bavaria (daughter of
the King of Greece), the Archduchess Sophie of Austria, and the
Baroness de Krüdener (catalogued as the "spiritual sister" of the Czar
Alexander I), a popular actress, Charlotte Hagen, a ballet-dancer,
Antoinette Wallinger, and the daughters of the Court butcher and the
municipal town-crier. To these were added a quartet of Englishwomen,
in Lady Milbanke (the wife of the British Minister), Lady
Ellenborough, Lady Jane Erskine, and Lady Teresa Spence. It was to
this gallery that Ludwig was accustomed to retire for a couple of
hours every evening, to "meditate" on the charms of its occupants.
Being, however, possessed of generous instincts, and always ready
(within limits) to share his good things, the public were admitted on
Sunday afternoons.
But Ludwig could scratch, as well as purr. On one occasion he chanced
to meet a lady who had figured among the occupants of the
_Schönheiten_. She was considerably past the first flush of youth, and
Ludwig, exercising his prerogative, affected not to remember her.
"But, Sire," she protested, "I used to be in your gallery."
"That, madame," was the response, "must have been a very long time
ago. You would certainly not be there now."
II
From her modest hotel, where, soon tiring of his society, she left
Auguste Papon to stay by himself, Lola took up fresh quarters in a
small villa which the King had placed at her disposal in the
Theresienstrasse, a boulevard conveniently near the Hofgarten and the
Palace. While comfortable enough, it was held to be merely a temporary
arrangement. There was not enough room in it for Lola to expand her
wings. She wanted to establish a _salon_ and to give receptions.
Accordingly, she demanded something more suitable. It meant spending
money, and Ludwig had already, he reflected, spent a great deal on her
whims and fancies. Still, under pressure, he came round, and, agreeing
that there must be a fitting nest for his love-bird (with a perch in
it for himself), he summoned his architect, Metzger, and instructed
him to build one in the more fashionable Barerstrasse.
"No expense is to be spared," he said.
None was spared.
[Illustration: _Supper-Party at Les Frères Provençaux. First act in a
Tragedy_]
The new dwelling, which adjoined the Karolinen Platz, was really a
bijou palace, modelled on the Italian style. Everything in it was of
the best, for Ludwig had cash and Lola had taste. Thus, her toilet-set
was of silver ware; her china and glass came from Dresden: the rooms
were filled with costly nicknacks; mirrors and cabinets and vases and
bronzes; richly-bound books on the shelves; and valuable tapestries
and pictures on the walls. French elegance, added to Munich art, with
a touch of solid English comfort in the shape of easy chairs and
couches.
To check a playful habit that the Munich mob had of throwing bricks
through them, when they had drunk more beer than they could carry, the
windows were fitted with iron grilles. As a further precaution, a
mounted officer always accompanied the Barerstrasse châtelaine when
she was driving in public, and sentries stood at the door, to keep the
curious at a respectful distance.
A description of the Barerstrasse nest was sent to London by a
privileged journalist who had inspected it:
"The style of luxury in which Lola Montez lives here passes all
bounds. Nothing to equal it has been met with in Munich. It might
almost be an Aladdin's palace! The walls of her bed-chamber are hung
with guipure and costly satin. The furniture is of Louis XV era, and
the mantelpiece is of valuable Sèvres porcelain. The garden is filled
with rare flowers, and the carriages and horses in the stables are the
wonder and envy of the honest burghers."
"The Queen herself could not be better housed," said Lola delightedly,
when she saw all the luxuries of which she was now the mistress.
"You are my Queen," declared Ludwig fondly.
While Lola, to please her patron, grappled with the intricacies of the
German tongue, Ludwig, to please his charmer, took lessons from her in
Spanish. She still stuck to her Andalusian upbringing, and is said
(but the report lacks confirmation) to have introduced him to à
Kempis. This, however, is probably a misprint for Don Quixote. None
the less, her inspiration was such that her pupil could write:
Thou dost not wound thy lover with heartless tricks;
Nor dost thou play with him wantonly.
Thou art not for self; thy nature is generous and kind.
My beloved! Thou art munificent and unchanging.
* * * * *
"Give me happiness!" I begged with fierce longing.
And happiness I received from thee, thou Woman of Spain!
Notwithstanding the suggestion implied by this assurance, Lola always
insisted that her relations with the King were purely platonic. While
this view is a little difficult to accept, it is significant that
Ludwig's lawful spouse never objected to their "friendship." Her
Majesty, however, was of a placid temperament. Perhaps, too, she
thought that the fancy would not endure. If so, she was wrong, for,
with the passage of time, the newcomer was obviously consolidating her
position. "Lola Montez, of horse-whipping notoriety," remarked a
journalist, "appears to be increasing in favour at the Court of
Bavaria. The Queen calls her 'My dear,' and the ladies consider it
their duty to caress the one who has all the world of Munich at her
feet."
During the summer, Ludwig, divesting himself of the cares of state,
retired to his castle at Bruckenau, picturesquely situated in the
Fulda Forest; and Lola, attended by a squadron of Cuirassiers,
accompanied him to this retreat. There, as in the Nymphenburg Park,
Ludwig dreamed dreams, while Lola amused herself with the officers of
the escort. Halcyon days--and nights. They inspired His Majesty with
yet another "poem":
SONG OF WALHALLA
Through the holy dome, oh come,
Brothers, let us roam along;
Let from thousand throats the hum
Rise, like rivers, swift and strong!
When the notes have died away
Let us clasp each other's hand;
And, to high Heaven, let us pray
For our dearest Fatherland!
While she accorded it full value, Lola Montez did not depend on mere
beauty for her power. She had a markedly sadistic vein in her
composition; and, when annoyed, was not above laying about her right
and left with a dog-whip that she always carried. An impudent lackey
would be flogged into submission, or set upon by a fierce mastiff that
she kept at her heels. High office, too, meant nothing to her. She
boxed the ears of Baron Pechman; and, because he chanced to upset her,
she encouraged her four-coated companion to tear the best trousers of
Professor Lasaulx, the nephew of Görrez, a Cabinet Minister.
Her English bulldog (with apparently a strain of Presbyterian blood in
him) had an unerring scent for Jesuits. He seemed to disapprove of
their principles as much as his mistress did, and would attack them at
sight. This animal would also appear to have been something of a
prohibitionist. At any rate, he once bit a brewer's carman, delivering
goods to a _bierkeller_. When the victim expostulated, Lola struck him
with her whip. This infuriated the crowd to such an extent that she
had to take refuge in a shop. There she happened to jostle a
lieutenant, who, not recognising her, ventured on a protest. The next
morning he received a challenge from a fire-eating comrade, alleging
that he had "insulted a lady." Because the challenge was refused, a
"court of honour" had him deprived of his commission.
III
What a distressed commentator has dubbed the "equivocal position" of
Lola Montez at Munich also stuck in the gullet of the Cabinet, and
heads were shaken. Public affronts were offered her. When she visited
the Odéon Theatre, the stalls adjoining the one she occupied were
promptly emptied. "Respectable women drew back, exhibiting on their
countenances disgust and terror." But the masculine members of the
audience were less exclusive, or perhaps made of sterner material, for
they displayed eagerness to fill up the vacant stalls. "A new chivalry
was born," says a chronicler of town gossip, "and paladins were
anxious to act as a buckler."
With the passage of time the infatuation of the Wittelsbach Lovelace
became so marked that it could not be ignored in places beyond Munich.
The Countess Bernstorff grew seriously perturbed. "There has long been
talk," she confided to a friend, "as to whether King Ludwig would so
far presume on the kindness and indulgence of the Queen of Prussia as
to bring Lola Montez to Court during Her Majesty's forthcoming stay in
Munich." The problem, however, was solved by the tactful action of
Lola herself, who gave the palace a wide berth until the visit had
come to an end.
In his _Memoirs of Madam Jenny Lind-Goldschmidt_ shocked horror is
similarly expressed by Canon Scott Holland at the possibility of the
Swedish Nightingale, who was arranging to give a concert there,
encountering Lola in her audience:
The time fixed for this visit to Munich was, in one respect,
most unpropitious; and, for a young artist, unsupported by
powerful moral protection, the visit itself might well have
proved extremely unpleasant. It was impossible to sing at
Court, for the reigning spirit in the household of King
Ludwig I was the notorious Lola Montez, who was then at the
climax of her ill-gotten power. To have been brought into
contact with such a person would have been intolerable. An
invitation to Court would have rendered such contact
inevitable.
But if Jenny Lind adopted a lofty attitude and refused to fulfil an
engagement in the Bavarian capital, lest she should have chanced to
rub shoulders with Ludwig's mistress, other visitors did not share
these qualms. They arrived in battalions, and evinced no
disinclination to make her acquaintance. "To the shame of the
aristocracy and the arts," says a rigid commentator, "every day there
were to be found at the feet of this Cyprian intruder a throng of
princes and philosophers, authors and painters, and sculptors and
musicians."
Fresh tactics to get her out of Munich were then adopted. When,
however, somebody remarked that Ludwig was old enough to be her
grandfather, she sent him away with a flea in his ear.
"It is ridiculous to talk like that," she said. "My Ludwig's heart is
young. If you knew the strength of his passion, you would not credit
him with being more than twenty!"
As for Ludwig himself he was bombarded with anonymous letters and
warnings, calling Lola by every evil name that occurred to the
writers. She was La Pompadour and the Sempronia of Sallust in one, a
"voluptuous woman," and a "flame of desire." There were also tearful
protests from the higher clergy, who, headed by Archbishop
Diepenbrock, were positive that the "dancing woman" was an emissary of
Satan (sometimes they said of Lord Palmerston) sent from England to
destroy the Catholic religion in Bavaria.
Ludwig was curt with His Grace. "You stick to your _stola_," he said,
"and let me stick to my Lola."
A soft answer, perhaps; but not a very satisfactory one.
"It is all very well for kings to have mistresses," was the opinion of
the more broad-minded, "but they should select them from their own
countrywomen. This one is a foreigner. Why should our hard-earned
money be lavished on her?" The grievance was, as it happened, well
founded, for Lola was drawing 20,000 marks a year, wrung from the
pockets of the tax-payers.
Baron Pechman, the Chief of Police, had a bad reception when he
suggested that the populace might get out of control.
"If you can't manage the mob," said Ludwig, turning on him furiously,
"I'll get someone who can. A change of air may do you good."
The next morning the discomfited Baron Pechman found himself _dégommé_
and a successor appointed to his office.
The intrigue was too openly conducted to be "hushed up." Word of what
was happening in Munich soon filtered through to Vienna. Queen
Caroline-Augusta, Ludwig's sister, shook her head. "Alas," she sighed,
"my wretched brother is always bringing fresh shame on me." She wrote
him letters of tearful protest. They were ignored. She protested by
word of mouth. Ludwig, in unbrotherly fashion, told her to "mind her
own business." Caroline's next move was to take clerical counsel.
"These creatures are always venal," said the Jesuits. "They only care
for cash." An emissary was accordingly despatched to the Barerstrasse
mansion, to convey an offer. Unfortunately, however, he had not
advanced beyond "_Gnädige Frau, erlauben_," when he himself
capitulated to Lola's charms, and returned to the Hofburg, his task
unaccomplished. Still, he must have made out some sort of story to
save his face, for the Princess Mélanie wrote: "Our good Senfft has
come back. He was unable to speak to Lola Montez. The poor country of
Bavaria is in a sad condition, which gets worse every day."
The least disturbed individual appeared to be Queen Thérèse. Her
attitude was one of placidity itself. But perhaps she was, by this
time, accustomed to the dalliance of her Ludwig along the primrose
path. Also, she probably knew by experience that it was not the
smallest use making a fuss. The milk was spilled. To cry over it now
would be a wasted effort.
The King's favourite was good "copy" for the Bavarian press; and the
Munich journals were filled with accounts of her activities. Not in
the least upset by their uncomplimentary references to himself, Ludwig
instructed his librarian, Herr Lichenthaler, to collect all the
pasquinades, lampoons, squibs, and caricatures (many of them far from
flattering, and others verging on the indecent) that appeared and have
them sumptuously bound. It was not long before enough had been
assembled to fill half a dozen volumes. His idea was "to preserve for
posterity all this mountain of mud, as a witness of Bavaria's shame."
That somebody else was responsible for the "shame" did not occur to
him.
A choice specimen among the collection was one entitled _Lola Montez,
oder Des Mench gehört dem Könige_ ("Lola Montez, or the Wench who
belongs to the King"). There was also a scurrilous, and distinctly
blasphemous, broadsheet, purporting to be Lola's private version of
the Lord's Prayer:
"Our Father, in whom throughout my life, I have never yet
had much belief, all's well with me. Hallowed be thy
name--so far as I am concerned. Thy kingdom come, that is,
my bags of gold, my polished diamonds, and my unpolished
Alemannia. Thy will be done, if thou wilt destroy my
enemies. Give me this day champagne and truffles and
pheasant, and all else that is delectable, for I have a very
good appetite.... Lead me not into temptation to return to
this country, for, even if I were bullet-proof, I might be
arrested, clapped into a cage, and six francs charged for a
peep at me. Amen!"
IV
Those were the days when gentlemen (at any rate, Bavarians) did not
necessarily prefer blondes. Lola's raven locks were much more to their
taste. If she were not a success in the ballet, she was certainly one
in the boudoir. Of a hospitable and gregarious disposition, she kept
what amounted to open house in her Barerstrasse villa. Every morning
she held an informal levée there, at which any stranger who sent in
his card was welcome to call and pay his respects; and in the
evenings, when she was not dancing attendance on Ludwig at the Palace,
the Barerstrasse reception would be followed by a soirée. These
gatherings attracted--in addition to a throng of artists and authors
and musicians--professors and scholars from all over Europe; and, as
Gertrude Aretz remarks, in her admirable study, _The Elegant Woman_
(with considerable reference to this one): "the best intellects of her
century helped to draw her victorious chariot." The uncultured mob,
however, dubbed her a "Fair Impire" and a "Light o' Love," and flung
even stronger and still more uncomplimentary epithets. Their subject,
however, received them with a laugh. The shopkeepers, with an eye to
business, embellished their wares with her portrait; and the
University students, headed by Fritz Peissner, serenaded her in front
of her windows.
_Lolita schön, wie Salamoni's Weiber.
Welch 'suszer Reis flog über dich dahin!_
they sang in rousing chorus.
Among the students engaged in amassing light and learning at the
University of Munich, there were a number of foreigners. One of them
was a young American, Charles Godfrey Leland ("Hans Breitmann"), who
had gone there, he says, to "study æsthetics." But this did not take
up all his time, for, during the intervals of attending classes, he
managed to see something of Lola Montez. "I must," he says, "have had
a great moral influence on her, for, so far as I am aware, I am the
only friend she ever had at whom she never threw a plate or a book, or
attacked with a dagger, poker, broom, or other deadly weapon.... I
always had a strange and great respect for her singular talents. There
were few, indeed, if any there, were, who really knew the depths of
that wild Irish soul."
In another passage Leland offers further details: "The great, the
tremendous, celebrity at that time in Munich was also an opera dancer,
though not on the stage. This was Lola Montez, the King's last
favourite.... She wished to run the whole kingdom and government, kick
out the Jesuits, and kick up the devil, generally speaking.
"One of her most intimate friends was wont to tell her that she and I
had many very strange characteristics in common, which we shared with
no one else, while we differed utterly in other respects. It was very
like both of us, for Lola, when defending the existence of the soul
against an atheist, to tumble over a great trunk of books of the most
varied kind, till she came to an old vellum-bound copy of _Apuleius_,
and proceed to establish her views according to his subtle
neo-Platonism. But she romanced and embroidered so much in
conversation that she did not get credit for what she really knew."
Well, if it comes to that, Leland for his part was not above
"romancing" and "embroidering." His books are full of these qualities.
"Marvels," says a biographer, "fill his descriptions of student life
at Munich. Interesting people figure in his reminiscences....
Prominent among them was Lola Montez, the King's favourite of the day,
cordially hated by all Munich for an interference in public affairs,
hardly to be expected from the 'very small, pale, and thin or _frèle_
little person with beautiful blue eyes and curly black hair' who flits
across the pages of the Memoirs."
If this were Leland's real opinion of Lola's appearance, he must have
formed it after drinking too much of the Munich beer of which he was
so fond. He seems to have drunk a good deal at times, as he admits in
one passage: "after the dinner and wine, I drank twelve _schoppens_."
A dozen imperial pints would take some swallowing, and not leave the
memory unclouded as to subsequent events.
V
Despite the alleged Spanish blood in her veins, Lola (with, perhaps,
some dim stirring of memory for the far-off Montrose chapter) declared
herself a staunch Protestant, and, like her pet bull dog, disavowed
the Jesuits and all their works. Hence, she supported the Liberal
Government; and, as an earnest of her intentions, started operations
by attempting to establish contact with von Abel, the head of the
Ultramontane Ministry. He, however, affecting to be hurt at the bare
suggestion, would have nothing to do with the "Scarlet Woman," as he
did not scruple to call her. Following his example, the clerical press
redoubled their attacks. As a result, Lola decided to form an
opposition and to have a party of her own. For this purpose she
turned to some of the younger students, among whom she had a
particular admirer in one Fritz Peissner. In response to her smiles,
he, together with Count Hirschberg and a number of his friends,
embodied themselves in a special corps, pledged to act as her
bodyguard. Its members elected to be known as the Alemannia, and
invited her to accept the position of _Ehren-Schwester_ ("honorary
sister"). Lola was quite agreeable, and reciprocated by setting apart
a room in her villa where the swash-bucklers could meet. Not to be
outdone in paying compliments, the Alemannia planted a tree in her
garden on Christmas Day. Their distinguishing badge (which would now
probably be a black shirt) was a red cap. As was inevitable, they were
very soon at daggers drawn with the representatives of the other
University Corps, who, having long-established traditions, looked upon
the newcomers as upstarts, and fights between them were constantly
occurring when they met in public. Altogether, Ludwig had reason to
regret his action in transferring the University from its original
setting at Landshut. On the other hand, Councillor Berks, a thick and
thin champion of Lola (and not above taking her lap-dogs for an airing
in the Hofgarten), supported the Alemannia, declaring them to be "an
example to corrupt youth." Prince Leiningen retaliated by referring to
him as "that wretched substitute for a minister, commonly held by
public opinion in the deepest contempt."
The origin of the Alemannia was a little curious. Two members of the
Palatia Corps happened one afternoon, while peering through the
windows of the Barerstrasse mansion, to see Lola entertaining a couple
of their fellow-members. This they held to be "an affront to the
honour of the Palatia," and the offenders, glorying in their conduct,
were expelled by the committee. Thereupon, they joined with Fritz
Peissner when he was thinking of establishing a fresh corps.
In her new position, Lola did not forget her old friends. Feeling her
situation with Ludwig secure, she wrote to Liszt, offering him "the
highest order that Bavaria could grant." He declined the suggestion,
and sent word of her doings to Madame d'Agoult:
Apropos of this too celebrated Anglo-Spanish woman, have you
heard that King Louis of Bavaria has demanded the sacrifice
of her theatrical career? and that he is keeping her at
Munich (where he has bought her a house) in the quality of a
favourite Sultanah?
Later on, he returned to the subject:
I have been specially pleased with a couple of allusions to
Lola and this poor Mariette; but, to be perfectly
candid--and being afraid that you would find the subject a
little indecorous--I began to reproach myself for having
mentioned it to you in my last letter from Czernowitz.
In speaking of Lola, you tell me that you defend her (which
I do also, but not for the same reasons) because she stands
for progress. Then, a page further on, in resuming the
subject at Vienna, you find me very young to still believe
in justice, not realising that, in this little circle of
ideas and things, I represent in Europe a progressive and
intelligent movement. "Alas! Who represents anything in
Europe to-day?" you enquire with Bossuet.
Well, then, Lola stands for the nineteenth century, and
Daniel Stern stands for the woman of the ninth century; and,
were it not for having contributed to the representation of
others, I too shall finish by representing something else,
by means of the 25,000 francs of income it will be necessary
for me to end up by securing.