As for Ludwig himself he was bombarded with anonymous letters and warnings, calling Lola by every evil name that occurred to the writers. She was La Pompadour and the Sempronia of Sallust in one, a "voluptuous woman," and a "flame of desire." There were also tearful protests from the higher clergy, who, headed by Archbishop Diepenbrock, were positive that the "dancing woman" was an emissary of Satan (sometimes they said of Lord Palmerston) sent from England to destroy the Catholic religion in Bavaria. Ludwig was curt with His Grace. "You stick to your _stola_," he said, "and let me stick to my Lola." A soft answer, perhaps; but not a very satisfactory one. "It is all very well for kings to have mistresses," was the opinion of the more broad-minded, "but they should select them from their own countrywomen. This one is a foreigner. Why should our hard-earned money be lavished on her?" The grievance was, as it happened, well founded, for Lola was drawing 20,000 marks a year, wrung from the pockets of the tax-payers. Baron Pechman, the Chief of Police, had a bad reception when he suggested that the populace might get out of control. "If you can't manage the mob," said Ludwig, turning on him furiously, "I'll get someone who can. A change of air may do you good." The next morning the discomfited Baron Pechman found himself _degomme_ and a successor appointed to his office. The intrigue was too openly conducted to be "hushed up." Word of what was happening in Munich soon filtered through to Vienna. Queen Caroline-Augusta, Ludwig's sister, shook her head. "Alas," she sighed, "my wretched brother is always bringing fresh shame on me." She wrote him letters of tearful protest. They were ignored. She protested by word of mouth. Ludwig, in unbrotherly fashion, told her to "mind her own business." Caroline's next move was to take clerical counsel. "These creatures are always venal," said the Jesuits. "They only care for cash." An emissary was accordingly despatched to the Barerstrasse mansion, to convey an offer. Unfortunately, however, he had not advanced beyond "_Gnaedige Frau, erlauben_," when he himself capitulated to Lola's charms, and returned to the Hofburg, his task unaccomplished. Still, he must have made out some sort of story to save his face, for the Princess Melanie wrote: "Our good Senfft has come back. He was unable to speak to Lola Montez. The poor country of Bavaria is in a sad condition, which gets worse every day." The least disturbed individual appeared to be Queen Therese. Her attitude was one of placidity itself. But perhaps she was, by this time, accustomed to the dalliance of her Ludwig along the primrose path. Also, she probably knew by experience that it was not the smallest use making a fuss. The milk was spilled. To cry over it now would be a wasted effort.