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."