I must tell you that all my faithful and devoted servants, with some others of my real friends, were in the house with me. I begged them to leave by the garden, but they said, poor fellows, they would die for me.
... Seeing the eminent danger of my friends, and not thinking of myself, I ordered my carriage while the blackguards were endeavouring to break down the gates. My good George, the coachman, helped me to rush through the door and we set off at a furious gallop. Many pistol shots were fired at me, but I was in God's care and avoided the bullets.
My escape was most miraculous. At a distance of two hours from Munich I left my carriage and in Bluthenberg sought the protection of a brave honest man, by whom I was given shelter. Presently, some officers galloped up and demanded me. My benefactor declared I was not there, and his daughters said my carriage had passed. When they were gone, his good wife helped me to dress as a peasant girl, and I rushed out of the house, across fields, ditches, and forests. Being so well disguised, I resolved to return to Munich. It was a dreadful spectacle. The Palace blockaded; buildings plundered; and anarchy in all directions. Seeing nothing but death if I stopped there, I left for Lindeau, from whence I am writing to you.
... Count Arco Valley has been distributing money like dirt to all classes, and the priests have stirred up the mob. Nobody is safe in Munich. The good, noble King has told everyone he will never leave me. Of that he is quite determined. The game is not up. I shall, till death, stick to the King; but God knows what will happen next.
I forgot to tell you that my enemies have announced in the German papers that the students are my lovers! They could not credit them with the loyal devotion they have ever had for the King and myself.
MARIE DE LANDSFELD.
Writing in his diary on March 14, 1848, Frederick Cavendish, a budding diplomatist, whom Palmerston had appointed as attaché at Vienna, remarks: "There has been the devil of a disturbance in Munich; and the King's mistress, Lola Montez, has been forced to fly for her life. She has been the curse of Bavaria, yet the King is still infatuated with her."
Scarcely diplomatic language. Still, not far from the truth.
A rigorous press censorship was exercised. The Munich papers had to print what they were told, and nothing else. As a result, an inspired article appeared in the Allegemeine Zeitung, of Augsburg, declaring that the Ultramontanes were responsible for the émeute. "Herr von Abel," in the opinion of a colleague, Heinrich von Treitsche, "took advantage of the opportunity to espouse a sudden championship of morals, and made les convenances an excuse for resigning what had long been to him a dangerous office."