The Magnificent Montez Part 10

CHAPTER VII

"HOOKING A PRINCE"

I

Immediately after the Rouen trial, Lola left France, returning once more to Germany. Perhaps the Irish strain in her blood made her a little superst.i.tious. At any rate, just before starting, she consulted a clairvoyante. She felt that she had her money's worth, for the Sibyl declared that she would "exercise much influence on a monarch and the destiny of a kingdom." A long shot, and, as it happened, quite a sound one.

Her intention being, as she had candidly informed Dumas, to "hook a prince," she studied the _Almanach de Gotha_, and familiarised herself with the positions and revenues of the various "notables" accorded niches therein.

Germany was obviously the best field to exploit, for that country just then was full of princes. As a matter of fact there were no less than thirty-six of them waiting to be "hooked." The first place to which she went on this errand was Baden, where, according to Ferdinand Bac, she "bewitched the future Emperor William I. The Prince, however, being warned of her syren spell, presently smiled and pa.s.sed on."

Better luck befell the wanderer at her next attempt to establish intimate contact with a member of the _hoch geboren_, Henry LXXII. His princ.i.p.ality, Reuss-Lobenstein-Ebersdorf (afterwards amalgamated with Thuringia), had the longest name, but the smallest area, of any in the kingdom, for it was only about the size of a pocket-handkerchief. But to Lola this was of no great consequence. What, however, was of consequence was that he was a millionaire (in thalers) and possessed an inflammable heart.

A great stickler for etiquette, he once published the following notice in his _Court Gazette_:

"For twenty years it has been my express injunction that every official shall always be alluded to by his correct t.i.tle. This injunction, however, has not always been obeyed. In future, therefore, I shall impose a fine of one thaler on any member of my staff who neglects to refer to another by his proper t.i.tle or description."

But that the Prince could unbend on occasion is revealed by another notification to his subjects:

"His Most Serene Highness and All-Highest Self has graciously condescended to approve the conduct of those six members of the Reuss militia who recently a.s.sisted to put out a fire. With his own All-Highest hand he is (on production of a satisfactory birth certificate) even prepared to shake that of the oldest among them."

Risking a prosecution for _lese-majeste_, a local laureate described the incident in stirring verse. An extract from this effort, translated by Professor J. G. Legge, in his _Rhyme and Revolution in Germany_, is as follows:

HONOUR TO WHOM HONOUR IS DUE

Quite recently in Reuss Militia at a fire (I'm sure it will rejoice you) Great credit did acquire.

When this, through a memorial, Their gracious Prince by Right Had learned; those territorials He to him did invite.

And when the good men shyly Stood up before him, each His Gracious Highness highly Praised in a Gracious speech.

A solemn affidavit (With parents' names and date) Each then produced and gave it --His birth certificate.

His Highness then demanded The eldest of the band, And clasped that h.o.r.n.y-handed With his All-Highest hand.

Now, this great deed recorded, Who would not dwell for choice Where heroes are rewarded As in the land of Reuss?

Where Lola was concerned, she very soon put a match to the inflammable, if arrogant, heart of Prince Henry, and, as a result, was "commanded" to accompany him to his miniature court at Ebersdorf. She did not, however, stop there very long, for, by her imperious att.i.tude and contempt of etiquette, she disturbed the petty officials and bourgeois citizens surrounding it to such a degree that they made formal complaints to his High-and-Mightiness. At first he would not hear a word on the subject. Such was his favourite's position that criticism of her actions was perilously near _lese-majeste_ and incurred reprisals. As soon, however, as the amorous princeling discovered that his bank balance was being depleted considerably beyond the amount for which he had budgeted, he suffered a sudden spasm of virtue and issued marching-orders to the "Fair Impure," as his shocked and strait-laced Ebersdorfians dubbed the intruder among them. There was also some suggestion, advanced by a gardener, that she had a habit of taking a short cut across the princely flower-beds when she was in a hurry. This was the last straw.

"Leave my kingdom at once," exclaimed the furious Henry. "You are nothing but a feminine devil!"

Not in the least discomfited by this change of opinion, Lola riposted by presenting a lengthy and detailed account for "services rendered"; and, when it had been met (and not before), shook the dust of Reuss-Lobenstein-Ebersdorf from her pretty feet.

"You can keep your Thuringia," was her parting-shot. "I wouldn't have it as a gift."

The next places at which she halted were Homburg and Carlsbad, two resorts then beginning to become popular and attracting a wealthy crowd seeking a promised "cure" for their various ills. But, finding the barons apt to be close-fisted, and the smart young lieutenants without one _pfennig_ in their pockets to rub against another, Lola was soon continuing her travels.

In September, 1846, she found herself in Wurtemburg, where, much to her annoyance, she discovered that a certain Amalia Stubenrauch, a prepossessing damsel, who would now be called a gold-digger, had conquered the spare affections of King William, on whom Lola herself had designs. But that large-hearted monarch had, as it happened, few affections to spare for anybody just then, for, when she encountered him at Stuttgart, he was on the point of being married to Princess Olga of Russia. A correspondent of the _Athenaeum_, who was there to chronicle the wedding festivities for his paper, registered disapproval at her presence in the district. "From the capital of Wurtemburg," he announced sourly, "Lola Montez departed in the _schnellpost_ for Munich, unimpeded by any luggage." Somebody else, however (perhaps a more careful observer), is emphatic that she "went off with three carts full of trunks." As she always had a considerable wardrobe, this is quite possible.

II

When, at the suggestion of Baron Malt.i.tz (a Homburg acquaintance who had suggested that she should "try her luck in Munich"), Lola set off for Bavaria, that country was ruled by Ludwig I. A G.o.d-child of Marie-Antoinette, and the son of Prince Max Joseph of Zweibrucken and Princess Augusta of Hesse-Darmstadt, he was born at Salzburg in 1786 and had succeeded his father in 1825. As a young man, he had served with the Bavarian troops under Napoleon, and detesting the experience, had conceived a hatred of everything military. This hatred was so strongly developed that he would not permit his sons to wear uniform.

Under his regime the military estimates were cut down to the bone. The army, he said, was a "waste of money," and he grudged every _pfennig_ it cost the annual budget. He did his best to abolish conscription, but had to abandon the effort. For all, too, that he was a G.o.d-son of Marie-Antoinette, he had no love for France.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Porte St. Martin Theatre, Paris, where Lola was a "flop"_]

Ludwig's sister, Louisa, exchanging her religion for a consort's crown, was the wife of the Czar Alexander I; and he himself was married to the Princess Theresa of Saxe-Hildburghausen, a lady described as "plain, but exemplary." Still, so far as personal appearance goes, Ludwig himself was no Adonis. Nest.i.tz, indeed, has pictured him as "having a toothless jaw and an expressionless countenance." But his consort did her duty; and, at approved intervals, presented him with a quiverful of four sons and three daughters. Of his sons, one of them, Otto, was, as a lad of sixteen, selected by the Congress of London to be King of Greece, much to the fury of the Czar Nicholas, who held that this was a cunning, if diplomatic, attempt to set up a Byzantine empire among the h.e.l.lenes.

"Were I," he said in a despatch on the subject, "to give my countenance to such a step, I should nullify myself in the eyes of my Church." Nesselrode, however, was of another opinion. "It is unbecoming," he was daring enough to inform his master, "for the Emperor of Russia to question a step upon which the Greeks themselves are not in entire accord." A remarkable utterance. Politicians had gone to Siberia for less. Palmerston, too, had his way, and Otto, escorted by a warship, left his fatherland. On arriving in Athens, the joy-bells rang out and the columns of the Parthenon were flood-lit.

But the choice was not to the popular taste; and it was not long before Otto was extinguished, as well as the lights. By the irony of fate, he returned to Munich on the very day that Ludwig had erected a Doric arch to commemorate the activities of the House of Wittelsbach in securing the Liberation of Greece.

Despite this untoward happening, Ludwig remained an ardent Phil-h.e.l.lene; and, as such, conceived the idea of converting his capital into a mixture of Athens and Florence and a metropolis of all the arts. Under his fostering care, Munich was brought to bed of a succession of temples and columns, and sprouted pillars and porticoes in every direction. The slums and alleys and huddle of houses in the old enceinte were swept away, and replaced by broad boulevards, fringed with museums and churches and picture galleries. For many of the princ.i.p.al public buildings he went to good models. Thus, one of them, the Konigsbau, was copied from the Pitti Palace; a second from the Loggia de' Lanzi; and a third from St. Paul's at Rome. He also built a Walhalla, at Ratisbon, in which to preserve the effigies of his more distinguished countrymen. Yet, although it ran to size, there was no niche in it for Luther.

In his patronage of the fine arts, Ludwig followed in the footsteps of the Medici. During his regime, he did much to raise the standard of taste among his subjects. Martin Wagner and von Hallerstein were commissioned by him to travel in Greece and Italy and secure choice sculpture and pictures for his galleries and museums. The best of them found a home in the Glyptothek and the Pinakothek, two enormous buildings in the Doric style, the cost of which he met from his privy purse. Another of his hobbies was to play the Maecenas; and any budding author or artist who came to him with a ma.n.u.script in his pocket or a canvas under his arm was certain of a welcome.

We all have our little weaknesses. That of Ludwig of Bavaria was that he was a poet. He was so sure of this that he not only produced yards of turgid verse, defying every law of construction and metre, but he even had some of it printed. A volume of selections from his Muse, ent.i.tled _Walhalla's Genossen_, was published for him by Baron Cotta, and, like the Indian shawls of Queen Victoria, did regular duty as a wedding-gift. One effort was dedicated "To Myself as King," and another "To my Sister, the Empress of Austria"; and a number of choice extracts were translated and appeared in an English guide-book.

Ignoring the divinity that should have hedged their author, Heine was very caustic about this royal a.s.sault upon Parna.s.sus. Ludwig riposted by banishing him from the capital. Still, if he disapproved of this one, he added to his library the output of other bards, not necessarily German. But, while Browning was there, Tennyson had no place on his shelves. One, however, was found for Martin Tupper.

Ludwig cultivated friendly relations with England, and did all he could (within limits) to promote an _entente_. Thus, on the occasion of a chance visit to Munich by Lord Combermere, he "sent the distinguished traveller a message to the effect that a horse and saddlery, with aide-de-camp complete, were at his service." His companion, however, a member of the Foreign Office Staff, who had forgotten to pack his uniform--or in John Bull fashion had declined to do so--did not fare so well, since his name was struck off the list of "eligibles" to attend the palace functions. Thereupon, says Lord Combermere, he "wrote an angry letter to the chamberlain, commenting on the absurdity of the restriction."

But Ludwig's opinion of diplomatists was also somewhat unflattering, for, of a certain emba.s.sy visited by him on his travels, he wrote:

"A Theatre once--and now an Amba.s.sador's dwelling.

Still, thou are what thou wast--the abode of deception."

A strange mixture of Henry IV and Haroun-al-Raschid, Ludwig of Bavaria was a man of contradictions. At one moment he was lavishly generous; at another, incredibly mean. He could be an autocrat to his finger tips, and insist on the observance of the most minute points of etiquette; and he could also be as democratic as anybody who ever waved a red flag. Thus, he would often walk through the streets as a private citizen, and without an escort. Yet, when he did so, he insisted on being recognised and having compliments paid him. The traffic had to be held up and hats doffed at his approach.

Nowadays, he would probably have been clapped into a museum as a curiosity.

Such, then, was the monarch whose path was to be crossed, with historic and unexpected consequences to each of them, by Lola Montez.

III

On arriving in Munich, Lola called on the manager of the Hof Theatre.

As this individual already knew of her Paris fiasco, instead of an engagement from him, she met with a rebuff. Quite undisturbed, however, by such an experience, she hurried off to the palace, and commanded the astonished door-keeper to take her straight to the King.

The flunkey referred her to Count Rechberg, the aide-de-camp on duty.

With him Lola had more success. Boldness conquered where bashfulness would have failed. After a single swift glance, Count Rechberg decided that the applicant was eligible for admission to the "Presence," and reported the fact to his master.

But Ludwig already knew something of the candidate for terpsich.o.r.ean honours. As it happened, that very morning he had received from Herr Frays, the director of the Hof Theatre, a letter, telling him that, on the advice of his _premiere-danseuse_, Fraulein Frenzal, he had refused to give her an engagement. Count Rechberg's florid description of her charms, however, decided His Majesty to use his own judgment.

But he did not give in easily.

"Is it suggested," he demanded acidly, "that I should receive all these would-be ballerinas and put them through their paces? They come here by the dozen. Why am I troubled with such nonsense?"