"MAÎTRESSE DU ROI"
I
The 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.
"I will leave Bavaria," she said, "when it suits me, and not before."
II
For ten years Ludwig had been under the thumb of the Ultramontanes and
the clerical ministry of Carl von Abel. He was getting more than a
little tired of the combination. The advance of Lola Montez widened
the breach. To get rid of him, accordingly, he offered von Abel the
appointment of Bavarian Minister at Brussels. The offer, however, was
not accepted. Asked for his reason, von Abel said that he "wanted to
stop where he was and keep an eye on things."
[Illustration: _Residenz Palace, Munich, in 1848. Residence of Ludwig
I_]
At this date Bavaria was Catholic to a man--and a woman--and the
Ultramontanes held the reins of government. While one would have
been enough, they professed to have two grievances. One was the
"political poison" of the Liberal opposition; and the other was the
"moral perversion" of the King. In March matters came to a crisis. A
number of University professors, headed by the rigid Lasaulx, held an
indignation meeting in support of the Ultramontane Cabinet and "their
efforts to espouse the cause of good morals." This activity on the
part of a secular body was resented by the clergy, who considered that
they, and not the University, were the official custodians of the
public's "morals." But if it upset the clergy, it upset Ludwig still
more; and, to mark his displeasure, he summarily dismissed four of the
lecturers he himself had appointed. As the general body of students
sided with them, they "demonstrated" in front of the house of Lola
Montez, whom they held responsible.
What began as a very ordinary disturbance soon developed into
something serious. Tempers ran high; brickbats were thrown, and
windows smashed; there were collisions with the police, who
endeavoured to arrest the ringleaders; and finally the Karolinen Platz
had to be cleared by a squadron of Cuirassiers. The Alemannia, joining
arms, forced a passage through which Lola managed to slip to safety
and reach the gates of the Residenz. But it was, as she said, "a near
thing."
The crowd relieved their feelings by breaking a few more windows; and
a couple of Alemannia, detached from their comrades, were ducked in
the Isar.
"_Vivat, Lola!_" bellowed one contingent.
"_Pereat, Lola!_" bellowed the opposition.
Accounts of the disturbance filtered through to England. There they
attracted much attention and acid criticism.
"A lady," remarked the _Examiner_, "has overthrown the Holy Alliance
of Southern Germany. Lola Montez, whose affecting testimony during the
trial of those who killed Dujarier in a duel cannot but be remembered,
was driven by that catastrophe to seek her fortunes in other realms.
Chance brought her to Munich, the Sovereign of which capital has
divided his time between poetry and the arts, gallantry and devotion."
"What Paphian cestus," was another sour comment, "does Lola wind round
the blade of her poniard? We all remember how much the respectable
Juno was indebted to the bewitching girdle of a less regular fair one,
but the properties of that talisman are still undescribed."
The _Thunderer_, in its capacity as a European watch-dog, had its eye
on Ludwig and his dalliance along the primrose path. Disapproval was
registered. "The King of Bavaria," solemnly announced a leading
article, "has entirely forgotten the duties and dignities of his
position."
Freiherr zu Canitz, however, who had succeeded von Bülow as Minister
for Foreign Affairs, looked upon Ludwig's lapse with more indulgence.
"It is not," he wrote from the Wilhelmstrasse, "the first time by any
means that kings have chosen to live with dancers. While such conduct
is not, perhaps, strictly laudable, we can disregard it if it be
accompanied by a certain measure of decorum. Still, a combination of
ruler-ship and dalliance with a vagrant charmer is a phenomenon that
is as much out of place as is an attempt to govern a country by
writing sonnets."
Availing herself of what was then, as now, looked upon as a natural
safety-valve, Lola herself wrote to the _Times_, giving her own
version of these happenings:
I left Paris in June last on a professional trip; and, among
other arrangements, decided upon visiting Munich where, for
the first time, I had the honour of appearing before His
Majesty and receiving from him marks of appreciation, which
is not a very unusual thing for a professional person to
receive at a foreign Court.
I had not been here a week before I discovered that there
was a plot existing in the town to get me out of it, and
that the party was the Jesuit Party.... When they saw that
I was not likely to leave them, they tried what bribery
would do; and actually offered me 50,000 fcs. a year if I
would quit Bavaria and promise never to return. This, as you
may imagine, opened my eyes; and, as I indignantly refused
their offer, they have since not left a stone unturned to
get rid of me.... Within this last week a Jesuit professor
of philosophy at the university here, named Lasaulx, was
removed. Thereupon, the party paid and hired a mob to insult
me and break the windows of my house.
... Knowing that your columns are always open to protect
anyone unjustly accused, and more especially when that one
is an unprotected female, makes me rely upon you for the
insertion of this; and I have the honour to subscribe
myself, your obliged servant,
LOLA MONTEZ.
A couple of weeks later Printing House Square was favoured with a
second epistle:
_To the Editor of "The Times."_
MUNICH,
_March 31._
SIR:--In consequence of the numerous reports circulated in
various papers regarding myself and family, I beg of you,
through the medium of your widely circulated journal, to
insert the following:
I was born at Seville in the year 1833; my father was a
Spanish officer in the service of Don Carlos; my mother, a
lady of Irish extraction, born at the Havannah, and married
to an Irish gentleman, which, I suppose, is the cause of my
being called sometimes Irish and sometimes English, and
"Betsy Watson," and "Mrs. James," etc.
I beg leave to say that my name is Maria Dolores Porres
Montez, and I have never changed that name.
As for my theatrical qualifications, I never had the
presumption to think I had any. Circumstances obliged me to
adopt the stage as a profession, which profession I have now
renounced for ever, having become a naturalised Bavarian,
and intending in future making Munich my residence.
Trusting that you will give this insertion, I have the
honour to remain, Sir,
Your obedient servant,
LOLA MONTEZ.
The assumption that she had ever been known as "Betsy Watson" was due
to the fact that she was said at one period to have lived under this
name in Dublin, "protected there by an Irishman of rank and fortune."
With regard to the rest of the letter, this was much the same as the
one she had circulated after her London fiasco. It was very far from
being well founded. Still, she had repeated this story so often that
she had probably come to believe in it herself.
As _The Times_ at that period was not read in Munich to any great
extent, Lola, wanting a larger public, sent a letter to the
_Allegemeine Zeitung_. This, she thought, would secure her a measure
of sympathy not accorded her elsewhere:
"I object to being made a target for countless malicious
attacks--public and private, written and printed--some whispered in
secret, and others uttered to the world. I therefore now stigmatise as
a wicked liar and perverter of the truth any individual who shall,
without proving it, disseminate any report to my detriment."
The letter was duly published. The attacks, however, did not end. On
the contrary, they redoubled in virulence. All sorts of fresh charges
were brought against her. Many of them were quite unfounded, and
deliberately ignored much that might have been put to her credit. Lola
had not done nearly as much harm as some of Ludwig's lights o' love.
Her predecessors, however, had made themselves subservient to the
Jesuits and clericals. When her friends sent protests to the editor,
refuge was taken in the stereotyped reply: "pressure on our space
does not permit us to continue this correspondence."
By those who wished her ill, any stick was good enough with which to
beat Lola Montez. Thus, when a dignitary died--no matter what the
medical diagnosis--it was announced in the gutter press that he died
of "grief, caused by the national shame." The alleged last words of a
certain politician were declared to be: "I die because I cannot
continue living under the orders of a strumpet who rules our dear
Bavaria as if she were a princess." Ludwig took it calmly. "The real
trouble with this poor fellow," he said, "is that he never experienced
the revivifying effects of the love of a beautiful woman." A popular
prescription. The local doctors, however, were coy about recommending
it to their patients.
That the Munich disturbances had an aftermath is clear from a news
item that appeared in the _Cologne Gazette_ of July, 3, 1847. Lola,
wanting a change of air and scene, had gone on a tour, travelling
_incognita_ and without any escort. Still, as she was to discover, it
was impossible for her to move without being recognised:
According to letters from Bavaria, it is obvious that the
animosities excited against Lola Montez earlier in the year
are far from having subsided. On passing through Nuremberg,
she was received with coldness, but decency. At Bamberg,
however, it was very different. At the railway station she
was hissed and hooted, and, stones being thrown at her
carriage, she presented her pistols and threatened to punish
her assailants. The upper classes were thoroughly ashamed of
such excesses; and the chief magistrate has been instructed
to appoint a deputation of the leading citizens to apologise
to Mademoiselle.
In a letter to his brother, dated July 7, 1847, a University student
says: "Lola Montez was near being assassinated three days ago," but he
gives no particulars. Hence, it was probably gossip picked up in a
beer hall.
III
A grievance felt by Lola was that she was not accorded recognition
among the aristocracy. But there was an obvious remedy. This was to
grant her a coronet. After all, historic examples were to hand by the
dozen. In modern times the mistress of Frederick William III had been
made a duchess. Hence, Lola felt that she should be at least a
countess.
"What special services have you rendered Bavaria?" bluntly demanded
the minister to whom she first advanced the suggestion.
"If nothing else, I have given the King many happy days," was Lola's
response.
Curiosity was then exhibited as to whether she was sufficiently
_hoch-geboren_, or not. The applicant herself had no doubts on the
subject. Her father, Ensign Gilbert, she said, had the blood of
Coeur-de-Lion in his veins, and her mother's ancestors were among
the Council of the Inquisition.
When the matter was referred to him, Ludwig was sympathetic and
readily promised his help. But as she was a foreigner, she would, he
pointed out, have to start by becoming naturalised as a Bavarian
subject; and, under the constitution, the necessary indigenate
certificate must bear the signature of a Cabinet Minister. For this
purpose, and never thinking that the slightest difficulty would be
advanced, he had one drawn up and sent to Count Otto von Steinberg.
Much to his annoyance and surprise, however, that individual,
"suddenly developing conscientious objections," excused himself.
Thereupon, von Abel, as head of the Government, was instructed to
secure another signature.
"Do not worry. It will be settled to-morrow," announced Ludwig, when
Lola enquired the reason of the hitch.
He was, however, speaking without his book. The Ministry, Ultramontane
to a man, could swallow a good deal, in order to retain their
portfolios (and salaries), but this, they felt, was asking too much
of them. In unctuous terms, and taking refuge in offended virtue, they
declared they would resign, rather than countenance the grant of
Bavarian nationality for "the foreign woman." Neither pressure nor
threats would shake them. Ludwig could do what he pleased; and they
would do what they pleased.
The manifesto in which the Cabinet's decision was delivered is little
short of an historic document:
MUNICH.
_February 11, 1847._
Sir: Public life has its moments when those entrusted by
their Sovereign with the proper conduct of public affairs
have to make their choice between renouncing the duties to
which they are pledged by loyalty and devotion, and, by
discharging those duties in conscientious fashion, incurring
the displeasure of their beloved Sovereign. We, the faithful
servants of Your Majesty, have now found ourselves in this
situation owing to the decision to grant Bavarian
nationality to Senora Lola Montez. As we cannot forget the
duties that our oath compels us to observe, we cannot flinch
in our resolve....
It is abundantly clear that reverence for the Throne is
becoming weakened in the minds of your subjects; and little
is now heard in all directions but blame and disapproval.
National sentiment is wounded, because the country considers
itself to be under the dominion of a foreign woman of evil
reputation. The obvious facts are such that it is impossible
to adopt any other view.... The public journals print the
most shocking anecdotes, together with the most degrading
attacks on your Royal Majesty. As a sample of this, we
append a copy of No. 5 of the _Ulner Chronic_. The vigilance
of the police is powerless to check the circulation of these
journals, and they are read everywhere.... Not only is the
Government being jeopardised, but also the very existence
of the Crown. Hence, the delight of such as wish ill to the
Throne, and the anguish of such as are loyal to Your
Majesty. The fidelity of the army, too, is threatened. Ere
long, the forces of the Crown will become a prey to profound
disaffection; and where could we look for help, should this
occur and this last bulwark totter?
The hearts of the undersigned loyal and obedient servants
are torn with grief. This statement they submit to you is
not one of visionaries. It is the melancholy result of
observations made by them during the exercise of their
functions for several months past. Each of the undersigned
is ready and willing to surrender everything to his
Sovereign. They have given you repeated proofs of their
fidelity; and it is now nothing less than their sacred duty
to direct the attention of your Majesty to the dangers
confronting him. Our humble prayer, to which we beg you to
listen, is not governed by any desire to run counter to your
Royal will. It is put forward solely with a view to ending a
condition of affairs which is inimical to the well-being and
happiness of a beloved monarch. Should, however, your
Majesty not think fit to grant their petition, we, your
Ministers, will then have no alternative but to tender the
resignation of the portfolios with which you have entrusted
them.
The signatories to this precious "manifesto" were von Abel, von
Gumpenberg (Minister of War), von Schrenk, and von Seinsheim
(Councillors of State). Much to their hurt astonishment, their
resignations were accepted. Nor was there any lack of candidates for
the vacant portfolios. Ludwig, prompted by Lola, filled up the gaps at
once. Georg von Maurer (who reciprocated by signing her certificate of
naturalisation) was appointed Minister of Justice and Foreign Affairs,
and Freiherr Friederich zu Rhein was the new Minister of Public
Worship and Finance.
The students, not prepared to let slip a chance of asserting
themselves, paraded the streets with a fresh song:
_Da kam Senorra Lolala,
Sturzt Abel und Consorten;
Ach war sie doch jetz wieder da,
Und jagte fort den----_
Despite the fact that he was indebted for his appointment to her,
Maurer attempted to snub Lola and refused to speak to her the next
time they met. For his pains, he found himself, in December, 1847,
dismissed from office. There was, however, joy in the ranks of the
clerical party, for, to their horror, he happened to be a Protestant.
"I have now a new ministry, and there are no more Jesuits in Bavaria,"
announced Ludwig with much complacence. As was his custom when a
national crisis occurred, he was also delivered of a sonnet,
commencing:
You who have wished to hold me in thrall, tremble!
Greatly do I esteem the important affair
Which has ever on divested you of your power!
But the fallen ministers had the sympathy of Vienna. Count Senfft, the
Austrian envoy at Munich, gave a banquet in their honour. Lola
reported this to Ludwig, and Ludwig gave Senfft his _congé_.
What had annoyed the Wittelsbach Lovelace more than anything else
about the business was that the memorandum in which von Abel and his
colleagues had expressed their candid opinion of Lola Montez found its
way into the _Augsburger Zeitung_ and a number of Paris journals. This
was regarded by him as a breach of confidence. Enquiries revealed the
fact that von Abel's sister had been surreptitiously shown a copy of
the document, and, not prepared to keep such a tit-bit of gossip to
herself, had disclosed its contents to a reporter. After this, the
fat, so to speak, was in the fire; and nothing that Ludwig could do
could prevent the affair becoming public property. As a result, it
formed the basis of innumerable articles in the press of Europe, and
the worst possible construction was put on it.
The erudite Dr. Döllinger, between whom and Lola Montez no love was
lost, was much upset by the situation and wrote a long letter on the
subject:
The existing ministry were fully awake to the encroachments
of the notorious Lola Montez; and in view of the destruction
which menaced both the throne and the country, they secretly
resolved to address a petition to Ludwig I, humbly praying
him to dismiss his favourite, and setting forth the grounds
on which they based their request.
Rumours of this business soon got afloat. People began to
whisper; and one fine day a sister of one of the ministers,
goaded by curiosity, discovered the petition. She imparted
the news in the strictest confidence to her most intimate
friends; and they, in their turn, secretly read the
memorial, with the result that, some time after the
important document had been safely restored to its
hiding-place, its contents appeared, nobody knew how, in the
newspapers.
The panic of the ministers was great; the King's displeasure
was still greater. He suspected treachery, and considered
the publication of such a petition treasonable.
Remonstrances were of no avail; the ministers were
dismissed, and their adherents fled in every direction. I,
who had been nominated a member of the Chamber by the
University, but against my will, had to resign office at the
bidding of the King. His Majesty was greatly incensed, and
meanwhile the excited populace were assembling in crowds
before the house of Lola Montez.
Döllinger was a difficult man to cross. He had doubts--serious
doubts--concerning a number of matters. Among them was one of the
infallibility of the Pope. What was more, he was daring enough to
express these doubts. The wrath of the Vatican could only be appeased
by ex-communicating him from the Church. He, however, added to his
contumacy by surviving until his ninety-second year.
IV
Appreciating on which side its bread was buttered, the new ministry
had no qualms as to the eligibility of Lola Montez for the honour of a
coronet in the Bavarian peerage. This having been granted her, the
next step was to select a suitable territorial title.
Ludwig ran an exploring finger down the columns of a gazetteer. There
he saw two names, Landshut and Feldberg, that struck him as
suggestive. Combined, they made up Landsfeld. Nothing could be better.
"I have it," he said. "Countess of Landsfeld, I salute you!"
Thereupon the Court archivist was instructed to prepare the necessary
document:
"We, Ludwig, King of Bavaria, etc., hereby make public to
all concerned that We have resolved to raise Maria von
Porres and Montez, of noble Spanish descent, to the dignity
of Countess of Landsfeld of this Our kingdom. Whilst we
impart to her the dignity of a Countess, with all the
rights, honours and prerogatives connected therewith, it is
Our desire that she have and enjoy the following escutcheon
on a German four-quartered shield: In the first field, red,
an upright white sword with golden handle; in the second,
blue, a golden-crowned lion rampant; the third, blue, a
silver dolphin; and in the fourth, white, a pale red rose.
This shield shall be surmounted by the coronet of a
Countess.
"Be this notified to all the authorities and to Our subjects
in general, with a view to not only recognising the said
Maria as Countess of Landsfeld, but also to supporting her
in that dignity; and it is Our will that whoever shall act
contrary to these provisions shall be summoned by Our
Attorney-General and there and then be condemned to make
public and private atonement.
"For Our confirmation of the above we have affixed Our royal
name to this document and placed on it the seal of Our
kingdom.
"Given at Aschaffensberg, this 14th of August, in the 1847th
year after the birth of Christ, our Lord, and in the 22nd
year of Our Government."
This did not miss the eagle eye of _Punch_, in whose columns appeared
a caustic reference:
"The armorial bearings of the new COUNTESS OF LANDSFELD, the
ex-_coryphée_ of Her Majesty's Theatre, have been designed,
but we think they are hardly so appropriate as they might
have been. We have therefore made some slight modifications
of the original, which we hope will prove satisfactory."
The suggested "modifications" were to substitute a parasol for the
sword, a bulldog for the lion, and a pot of rouge for the rose. Were
such an adjunct of the toilet table then in existence, a lipstick
would probably have been added.
V
With her title and heraldic honours complete, plus a generous
allowance on which to support them, and a palace in which to live,
Lola Montez cut a very considerable dash in Munich. Two sentries
marched up and down in front of her gate, and two mounted orderlies
(instead of one, as had previously been the case) accompanied her
whenever she left the house in the Barerstrasse.
While by far the most important of them, Ludwig was not by any means
the only competitor for Lola's favours. Men of wealth and
position--the bearers of high-sounding titles--with politicians and
place-hunters, fluttered round her. It is to her credit that she sent
them about their business.
[Illustration: _"Command" Portrait. In the "Gallery of Beauties,"
Munich_]
"The peculiar relations existing between the King of Bavaria and the
Countess of Landsfeld," remarked an apologist, "are not of a coarse or
vulgar character. His Majesty has a highly developed poetic mind, and
thus sees his favourite through his imagination, and regards her with
affectionate respect."
This found a responsive echo in another quarter, and some sharp raps
on the knuckles were administered to the Bavarian moralists by a Paris
journal:
"Why do you interfere with the amours of your good Ludwig?
We don't say he should not have observed rather more
discretion or have avoided compromising his dignity. Still,
a monarch, like a simple citizen, is surely free to love
where he pleases. In selecting Lola Montez, the amorous
Ludwig proves that he loves equality and, as a true
democrat, can identify himself with the public. Let him
espouse his servant girl, if he wants to. Personally, we
would rather see the Bavarians excite themselves about their
constitution than about the banishment of a royal favourite.
The King of Bavaria turns his mistress into a Countess; his
subjects refuse to recognise her; and a section of the
students clamour for her head. Happy days of Montespan, of
Pompadour, of Dubarry, of Potemkin, of Orloff, where have
you gone?"
In the summer of 1847 the Paris Courts were occupied with a long
outstanding claim against Lola Montez. This was to the effect that,
when she was appearing at the Porte St. Martin, she had run up a bill
for certain intimate undergarments and had neglected to settle the
account. The result was, she received a solicitor's letter in Munich.
She answered it in the following terms:
MUNICH,
_September 25, 1847._
MONSIEUR BLOQUE,
As I have never given any orders to Messrs. Hamon and
Company, tailors, rue de Helder, they have no claim on me;
and I am positively compelled to repudiate the bill for
1371 francs which you have the effrontery to demand in the
name of this firm.
Last spring Monsieur Leigh made me a present of a
riding-habit and certain other articles which he ordered for
me, and I consider that it is to him you should now address
yourself.
Accept, Monsieur, etc.,
COUNTESS DE LANDSFELD.
Not being prepared to accept this view, the Paris firm's next step was
to bring an action for the recovery of the alleged debt. Once more,
Lola repudiated liability, this time on the grounds that the creditors
had kept back some dress material belonging to herself. The defence to
this charge was that, "on being informed by their representative that
real ladies could not wear such common stuff, she had said she did not
want it back." The court, however, held that the debt had been
incurred; and, "as she considered it beneath her dignity to appear,
either in person or by counsel," judgment for 2,500 francs was given
against her.
Count Bernstorff, a not particularly brilliant diplomatist, had an
idea (shared, by the way, with a good many others) that Frederick
William IV, King of Prussia, was at one time under Lola's spell. He
was allowed to think so by reason of a letter that the King had sent
him from Sans Souci in the autumn of 1847:
"I am charging you, my dear Count, with a commission, the
performance of which demands a certain degree of that
measure of delicacy which I recognise you to possess. The
commission is somewhat beyond the accepted limits of what is
purely diplomatic in character.... It is a matter of handing
a certain trinket to a certain lady. The trinket is of
little value, but, from causes you will be able to
appreciate, the lady's favour is of very high value to
myself. All depends on the manner in which the gift is
presented. This should be sufficiently flattering to
increase the value of the offering and to cause its
unworthiness to be overlooked. My acquaintance with the
lady, and my respect for her, should be adroitly described
and made the most of, as must also be my desire to be
remembered at her hands.
"You will, of course, immediately perceive that I am
alluding to Donna Maria de Dolores de los Montez, Countess
of Landsfeld."
It was not until he turned over the page that the horror-struck
Bernstorff saw that the King was playing a characteristic jest on him;
and he realised that the intended recipient of the gift was his wife,
the Countess von Bernstorff, "as a souvenir of my gratitude for the
many agreeable hours passed under your hospitable roof last month."