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 horny-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 attitude 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 lèse-majesté 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 Athenæum, 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.