The Magnificent Montez: From Courtesan to Convert

Chapter 16

Chapter 166,734 wordsPublic domain

FAREWELL TO THE FOOTLIGHTS

Having booked a number of engagements there, in December, 1857, Lola landed in New York for the second time. Directly she stepped off the ship, she was surrounded by a throng of reporters. Never losing the chance of making a speech, she gave them just what they wanted.

"America," she said, as they pulled out their note-books, "is the last refuge left the victims of tyranny and oppression in the old world. It is the finest monument to liberty ever erected beneath the canopy of heaven."

For her reappearance she offered the public _Lola Montez in Bavaria_, which had already done good service. By this time, however, it was a little frayed.

"The drama represents her as a coquettish and reckless woman," was the considered opinion of one critic. "We assure our readers she is nothing of the sort."

This testimonial was a help. Still, it could not infuse fresh life into a piece that had obviously outlived its popularity. Hence, she soon changed the bill for a double one, _The Eton Boy_ and _Follies of a Night_. But the cash results were not much better; and when she left New York and tried her luck in Boston the week's receipts were scarcely two hundred dollars. This, in theatrical parlance, was "not playing to the gas."

Realising that she was losing her grip, she cast about for some fresh method of attracting the public. It was not long before she hit on one. As she was in a democratic country, she would make capital out of her "title." A plan was soon matured. This was to hold "receptions," where anybody would be welcome who was prepared to pay a dollar.

A dollar for ten minutes' chat with a genuine countess, and, for another 50 cents, the privilege of shaking her hand. A bargain. The tariff appealed to thousands. Among them Charles Sumner, the distinguished jurist, who declared of Lola Montez that, "She was by far the most graceful and delightful woman I ever met."

Her next scheme for raising the financial wind was to employ her pen. It was true that her "memoirs," strung together in Paris, had fallen flat--owing to the pusillanimity of the editor of _Le Pays_--but a full length "autobiography" would, she thought, stand a better prospect. Apart, too, from other considerations, there was now more material on which to draw. An embarrassing amount of it. She could say something--a lot--about the happenings in Bavaria, in France, in California, and in Australia. All good stuff, and a field hitherto untouched.

The pen, however, being still an unaccustomed weapon, she availed herself of outside help; and practically the whole of the _Autobiography of Lola Montez_ was written for her (on a profit-sharing agreement) by a clerical collaborator, the Rev. Chauncey Burr.

The tale of the Odyssey--as set forth in this joint production--established contact with glittering circles and the breathing of perfumed air. Within its chapters emperors and kings and princes jostle one another; scenes shift continually from capital to capital; and plots follow counter-plots in breathless fashion. Yet those who purchased the volume in the fond belief that it would turn out to be the analysis of a modern Aspasia were disappointed. As a matter of fact, there was next to nothing in it that would have upset a Band of Hope committee-meeting. This, however, was largely because, an adept at skating over thin ice, the Rev. Mr. Burr ignored, or coloured, such happenings as did not redound to the credit of his subject.

The "Autobiography" (alleged) finishes on a high note:

"Ten years have elapsed since the events with which Lola Montez was connected in Bavaria; and yet the malice of the diffusive and ever vigilant Jesuits is as fresh and as active as it was at the first hour it assailed her. It is not too much to say that few artists of her profession ever escaped with so little censure; and certainly none ever had the doors of the highest social respectability so universally open to them as she had, up to the time she went to Bavaria. And she denies that there was anything in her conduct there which ought to have compromised her before the world. Her enemies assailed her, not because her deeds were bad, but because they knew of no other means to destroy her influence."

Although too modest to acknowledge it, this passage is obviously the Rev. Chauncey Burr verbatim.

An offer to serialise part of the "autobiography" in the columns of _Le Figaro_ was accepted. In correcting the proofs, Lola still clung to the earlier account that had already done service in the "memoirs" contributed to _Le Pays_. But she embellished it with fresh embroideries. Thus, to keep up the Spanish connection, she now claimed as her aunts the Marquise de Pavestra and the Marquise de Villa-Palana, together with an equally imaginary Uncle Juan; and she also, for the first time, gave her schoolgirl friend, Fanny Nicholls, a sister Valerie.

The "autobiography" had originally been accepted for _Le Pays_ by Anténon Joly. When, however, shortly afterwards, MM. de la Guéronnière and de Lamartine acquired the journal, they repudiated the contract. Hence, its transfer to _Le Figaro_. But this organ also developed a sudden queasiness, and, after the first few instalments had appeared, declined to print the remainder, on the grounds that they were "too scandalous." Some time afterwards, Eugéne de Mirecourt, thinking he had a bargain, secured the interrupted portions and made them the basis of a chapter on Lola Montez in his _Les Contemporains_. This chapter is marked throughout by severe disapproval. Thus, it begins:

"The woman who revives in the nineteenth century the scandals of Jeanne Vaubernier belongs to our gallery, and the abject materialism accompanying her misconduct will be revealed in the pages that follow."

De Mirecourt was not too happy in his self-appointed task. Like everything else from his pen, the entire section is distinctly imaginative. Thus, he declares that Lola, while living in Madrid, was "supported by five or six great English lords"; and, among other amorous incidents, says that a Brahmin priest fell in love with her; that she conducted a "scandalous intrigue" with a young French diplomat who was carrying despatches to the Emperor of China; and that her husband, Lieutenant James, once intercepted a tender passage between herself and a rajah. Further embroideries assert that Lola's father was the son of a Lady Gilbert, and that her mother was the daughter of a "Moorish warrior who abjured paganism." To this rigmarole he adds that she was sent to a boarding-school at Bath, kept by a Mrs. Olridge, where she had an early _liaison_ with the drawing-master.

It was perhaps as well for de Mirecourt, and others of his kidney, that libel actions had not then been added to the perils of authorship. Still, if they had, Lola would not have troubled to bring one. To take proceedings in America against a man living in France was difficult. Also, by this time she was so accustomed to studied misrepresentation and deliberate falsehoods that she refused to interfere.

"It doesn't matter what people choose to say about me," she remarked contemptuously, when she was informed by a friend in Paris of the liberties being taken with her name.

Although (except when she took it into her own hands) she liked to keep clear of the law, this was not always possible. Such an instance occurred in March, 1858, when a Mr. Jobson of New York brought an action against her in respect of an alleged debt. The proceedings would appear to have been conducted in a fashion that must have been peculiar to the time and place; and, in an effort to discredit her, she was subjected to a cross-examination that would now be described as "third degree."

"Were you not," began the plaintiff's counsel, "born in Montrose, the daughter of one Molly Watson?"

When this was denied, he put his next question.

"How many intrigues have you had during your career?"

"None," was the answer.

"We'll see about that, Madam," returned the other, consulting his brief. "To begin with, were you not the mistress of King Ludwig?"

"You are a vulgar villain," exclaimed Lola indignantly. "I can swear on the Bible, which I read every night, but you don't, that I never had what you call an 'intrigue' with him. As a matter of fact, I did him a lot of good."

"In what way?" enquired the judge, looking interested.

"Well, I moulded his mind to the love of freedom."

"Before you ran off with your first husband," continued counsel, "were you not employed as a chambermaid?"

"Never," was the emphatic response. "And, let me tell you, Mr. Attorney, it is not at all a shameful thing to be a chambermaid. If I had been born one, I should consider myself a much more distinguished woman than I am."

When her own counsel, coming to the rescue, dubbed Mr. Jobson a "fellow," there followed, in the words of a reporter, "an unseemly fracas." From abuse of one another, the rival attorneys took to fisticuffs; the spectators and officials joined in the struggle; and an ink pot was hurled by the furious Jobson at the occupants of the jury-box. This being considered contempt of court, he was arrested, and the judge, gathering up his papers, left the Bench, announcing that the further hearing would be adjourned.

After this experience, Lola developed a fresh activity. Like a modern Joan of Arc, she suddenly announced that she heard "Voices," and that, on their instructions, she was giving up the stage for the platform. Her plans were soon completed; and, on February 3, 1858, she mounted the rostrum and made her début as a lecturer, at the Hope Chapel, New York.

There were beery chuckles from the reporters who were "covering" this effort. "Lola Montez in the chapel pulpit is good fun," was the conclusion at which one of them arrived; and another headed his column, "A Desperado in Dimity."

Judging from his account of this initial sample (a lecture on "Beautiful Women"), the _Tribune_ representative did not regard it very seriously:

"Temperance, exercise, and cleanliness, preached Lola the plucky; light suppers and reasonable hours; jolly long walks in thick boots and snug wrappers for the benefit of the complexion. From these, said Lola, come good digestion, good humour, and good sense. And that's the way, my dear Flora, to be healthy and wealthy--speaking crinolinely and red-petticoatedly--and wise."

Lola was before her time. Nowadays she would have set up as a "beauty specialist." Had she done so, she would have secured a big income from the sale of creams and perfumes, powders and paints, and dyes and unguents, and all the other nostrums with which women endeavour to recover their vanished charms. But, instead of becoming a practitioner, she became an author and compiled a handbook, _The Arts of Beauty, or Secrets of a Lady's Toilet_. This went very fully into the subject, and had helpful hints on "Complexion Treatment," "Hair Culture," "Removal of Wrinkles," and what was then coyly termed "Bust Development." Importance was also attached to "Intellect," as a sovereign specific for repairing the ravages of advancing years. "A beautiful mind," announced the author, "is the first thing required for a beautiful face."

Lola's light was not hidden under any bushel. An American firm of publishers, convinced that there was money in this sort of thing, made an acceptable offer and issued the work with a prefatory inscription:

The title-page of this effort ran as follows:

A Canadian publisher, John Lovell, on the look-out for a novelty, read this effort and suggested that a friend of his, Émile Chevalier, of Paris, should sponsor an edition of Lola's _Arts of Beauty_ for consumption on the boulevards. "I am too much an admirer of the gifted author," was M. Chevalier's response, "to undertake the work without consulting her." Accordingly, he got into touch with Lola, offering to have a translation made. "Thank you," she replied, "but I wish to do it myself. You, however, can put in any corrections you think necessary. I have not written anything in French since the death of poor Bon-Bon [Dujarier], and I want to see if I still remember the language." Apparently she did so, for, shortly afterwards, the manuscript was sent across the Atlantic and delivered to M. Chevalier. Within another month it was on the bookstalls. "I have retouched it very little," says the editor in his preface, "as I was anxious to preserve Madame Lola's distinctly original style. Her pen is as mordant as her dog-whip."

M. Chevalier was charmed with the fashion in which Lola had acquitted herself, and wrote florid letters of thanks to her in New York. With a supplementary lecture on "Instructions for Gentlemen in the Art of Fascination," which was added to fill up the book, he declared himself much impressed. "This," he says, "exhibits a profound knowledge of the human heart, and is altogether one of the finest and most piquant criticisms on American manners with which I am familiar." "Who," he continues, warming to his work, "is more thoroughly qualified to discuss the development and preservation of natural beauty than the Countess of Landsfeld?"; and in an introductory puff he adds: "These observations are very judicious, and as applicable in Europe as in America. They should, I feel, be indelibly engraved on the minds of all sensible women."

Perhaps they were. At any rate, the result of M. Chevalier's enterprise was a distinct success, and the Paris bookshops soon got rid of 50,000 copies. In fact, Lola was very nearly a best-seller.

In addition to her expert views on "Beautiful Women," Lola had plenty of other subjects up her sleeve, to be incorporated in a series of lectures. The list covered a wide range, for it included such diverse headings as "Ladies with Pasts," "Heroines of History," "Romanism," "Wits and Women of Paris," "Comic Aspects of Love," and "Gallantry." On all of these matters she had plenty to say. On some of them quite a lot, for they ran to an average of a dozen closely printed pages, and, when delivered in public, took up three hours. In the one on "Beautiful Women" precise details were given as to the adventitious causes contributing to her own sylph-like figure, glossy hair and pearly teeth, etc., and a number of prescriptions were also offered. These, she recommended, should be manufactured at home. "For a few shillings and a little trouble," she pointed out, "any lady can secure an adequate supply of all such things, composed of materials far superior to the expensive compounds bought from druggists;" and the recipes, she insisted, "had been translated by herself from the original French, Spanish, German, and Italian." Among these were _Beaume à l'Antique_, _Unction de Maintenon_, and _Pommade de Seville_; and "a retired actress at Gibraltar" was responsible for a specific for "warding off baldness." Lola put it in two words--"avoid nightcaps." But she was sympathetic about scalp troubles. "Without a fine head of hair, no woman can be really beautiful.... The dogs would bark at and run away from her in the street." To be well covered on top was, she held, "quite as important for the opposite sex." "How like a fool or a ruffian," she remarked, "do the noblest masculine features appear if the hair of the head is bad. Many a dandy who has scarcely brains or courage enough to catch a sheep has enslaved the hearts of a hundred girls with his Hyperion locks!"

Although nominally the author of them, these lectures were, like her previous flight, really strung together by that clerical "ghost," the Rev. Chauncey Burr, with whom she had collaborated in her "memoirs." Wielding a ready pen, he gave good value, for the chapters were well sprinkled with choice classical quotations and elegant extracts from the poets, together with allusions to Aristotle and Theophrastus, to Madame de Staël and Washington Irving.

In the lecture on "Gallantry," Lola had a warm encomium for King Ludwig.

"His Majesty," she informed her audience, "is one of the most refined and high-toned gentlemen of the old school of manners. He is also one of the most learned men of genius in all Europe. To him art is more indebted than to any other monarch who has ever lived. King Ludwig is the author of several volumes of poems, which are evidence of his natural genius and elaborately cultivated taste.... He worships beauty like one of the old troubadours; and his gallantry is caused by his love of art. He was the greatest and best King Bavaria ever had."

In another passage she had a smack at the Catholic Church:

"An evil hour brought into Ludwig's counsels the most despotic and illiberal of the Jesuits. Through the influence of his ministers the natural liberality of the King was perpetually thwarted; and the Government degenerated into a petty tyranny, where priestly influence was sucking out the very life-blood of the people."

More than something of a doctrinaire, her observations on "Romanism" (which she dubbed "an abyss of superstition and moral pollution") might have fallen from the lips of a hot-gospeller of to-day. "Who," she asked her hearers, "shall compute the stupefying and brutalizing effects of such religion? Who will dare tell me that this terrible Church does not lie upon the bosom of the present time like a vast, unwieldy, and offensive corpse? America does not yet recognise how much she owes to the Protestant principle. It is that principle which has given the world the four greatest facts of modern times--steamboats, railroads, telegraphs, and the American Republic."

This somewhat novel definition of "the four greatest facts of modern times" was received with rapture by its hearers.

Despite certain jeers from some of the reviewers, the lectures continued to attract the public. The novelty of Lola Montez at the rostrum drew large audiences everywhere; and she had no difficulty in arranging a long tour. Feeling, when it came to an end, that a similar measure of success might be secured on the other side of the Atlantic, she resolved to visit England.

Just before leaving America for this purpose, she wrote to a one-time Munich acquaintance, who was then editing a New York magazine:

YORKVILLE,

_August 20, 1858._

MY DEAR MR. LELAND,

I wish to thank you for the very kind notice you gave in your interesting magazine of my first book, and I have requested Messrs. Dick and Fitzgerald, my publishers, to send to your private address a copy of my _Arts of Beauty_. I hope, as a _critique_, it will be found "not wanting" (I do not mean not wanted).

Will you give my best and kindest regards to our friend Caxton; and, with the hope of hearing from you before I leave for Europe, which will be in a couple of months, I remain, far or near, your friend,

LOLA MONTEZ.

Of course, there was a postscript:

"The subject of my lectures in Europe will be on America. This should prove attractive."

Another letter suggests that an appointment with Leland had not been kept:

I should have much liked to have seen you before my departure for Ireland on Tuesday by Pacific, but I cannot control circumstances, you know; and therefore all I ask you until my return next July is a "place in your memory." Maybe, I shall write to you, or, maybe, not. But, whatever is, be sure that _You_ will not be forgotten by Yrs.

LOLA MONTEZ.

Again the inevitable postscript:

"Give my best and kindest regards to _our friend_. Tell him I shall certainly manage to fill his columns with plenty more newspaper lectures."

According to himself, Lola looked upon the young American with something more than mere friendship. "Once," he says, in his reminiscences, "she proposed to make a bolt with me to Europe, which I declined. The secret of my influence," he adds smugly, "was that I always treated her with respect, and never made love."

III

It was at the end of November, 1858, that Lola landed once more in the United Kingdom. She began her campaign there in Dublin, where, twenty-four years earlier, she had lived as a young bride, danced at the Castle, and flirted with the Viceroy's aides-de-camp. During the interval a crowded chapter, and one full of colour and life and movement, had been written.

All being in readiness, the public were duly informed of her plans by an advertisement:

MADAME LOLA MONTEZ, COUNTESS OF LANDSFELD, will give a Lecture on "America and its People," at the Round Room, Rotundo, on Wednesday evening, December 8. Reserved seats, 3s.; unreserved, 2s. 6d.

The début would appear to have been highly successful. "The announcement of the lecture," said a report the next morning, "created a degree of interest almost unparalleled among the Dublin public. The platform was regularly carried by a throng of admirers, giving Madame Lola Montez barely space to reach her desk. She was listened to with enraptured attention and warm manifestations of approval"; and "very properly, an ill-bred fellow, who exclaimed, 'hee-haw' at regular intervals, was loudly hissed."

For some reason or other, Lola was constantly embroiled with journalists. Thus, during this Dublin visit she had a passage at arms with one of them, who had published some damaging criticisms about her life in Paris. Thereupon, she wrote an angry letter to the editor of the _Daily Express_. As, however, she was alluding to events that had taken place nearly fifteen years earlier, her memory was somewhat at fault. Thus, she insisted that, when Dujarier met his death, she was living in the house of a Dr. and Mrs. Azan; and also that "the good Queen of Bavaria wept bitterly when she left Munich."

But, if Lola Montez was not very reliable, the editor of the _Dublin Daily Express_ was similarly slipshod in his comments. "It is now," he declared, "well established that Lola Montez was born in 1824, her father being the son of a baronet."

Crossing from Ireland to England, Lola, prior to appearing in London, undertook a tour in the provinces. On January 8, 1859, she appeared at the Free Trade Hall, Manchester, where her subject was "Portraits of English and American Character." This went down very well, although, to her disappointment, John Bright declined to take the chair. At Liverpool, however, "the public went almost wild with excitement"; and, as a result, her share of the box-office receipts was £250. But, although she attracted the mob, she managed to upset the susceptibilities of the critics. "Some of Madam's allusions," declared a shocked hearer, "were in questionable taste, and, as she delivered her address, the epithet 'coarse' fell from several members of the audience."

A visit to Chester, which followed the Liverpool one, was marked by an unfortunate incident:

"We learn with sorrow," said an eye-witness, "that on Thursday last the lady introduced, if not American, certainly not English, manners into one of our most venerable cathedrals. When, accompanied by a masculine escort, she entered the sacred edifice, the gentleman (?) demurred to removing his hat. While in dispute on this point of etiquette, Madam's pet dog attempted to join her. On being informed by the sexton that such canine companionship was inadmissible, her anger was aroused and she withdrew in considerable dudgeon."

The provincial tour was an extensive one; and, during it, she encountered a certain amount of competition. Thus, at Bristol she was sandwiched in between Barnum and a quarterly meeting of the Bible Society. None the less, "the fair Lola had a very cordial reception from a number of respectable citizens." But she was to have a set-back in one town that must have held many memories of her girlhood. This was Bath, where she appeared in the Assembly Rooms. The attitude of the press was distinctly inimical. "We must say," was one acid comment, "that a greater _sell_ we have not met with for a very long time. All the audience got for their money were some remarks of the most commonplace and twaddling description. They lasted about an hour, and even this was an hour too much." Still, Brighton, where the tour finished, more than made up for Bath; and she was so successful there that "the Pavilion was crammed to the doors, and additional lectures had to be given." Thus, all was well that ended well.

A provincial triumph was worth having. Lola, however, had set her heart on conquering London. With this end in view, accordingly, she despatched an emissary ahead to make the preliminary arrangements. Offers of theatres were showered upon her. One was from that remarkable figure, Edward Tyrell Smith. She would probably have done well under his management, for nobody understood showmanship better than this British Barnum. In this direction he had nothing to learn from anybody. Beginning his career as a sailor, he had soon tired of a life on the ocean wave, and, abandoning the prospect of becoming another Nelson, had joined the police force as a humble constable. But he did not remain one long; and became in turn a Fleet Street publican, the proprietor of a Haymarket night-house, an auctioneer, a picture dealer, a bill discounter (with a side line in usury), and the editor of a Sunday organ. Next, the theatre attracted his energies; and in 1852 he secured a lease of Drury Lane at the moderate rental of £70 a week. On Boxing-night he offered his first programme there. This consisted of _Uncle Tom's Cabin_ (with "fierce bloodhounds complete"), followed by a full length pantomime and a "roaring farce." Value for money in those palmy days. But, as an entrepreneur, Mr. Smith was always ahead of his period. Thus, he abolished the customary charge for booking; and, instead of increasing them, he lowered his prices when he had a success; and it is also to his credit that he introduced matinées.

Such a manager deserved to go far. This one did go far. Having discovered his niche, the pushful Smith soon had his fingers in several other pies. Thus, from Drury Lane he went to the Alhambra, and from the Alhambra to Astley's, with intervening spells at the Lyceum and the Elephant and Castle. He also took in his stride Her Majesty's and Cremorne. All was fish that he swept into his net. Some, of course, were minnows, but others were Tritons. Charles Mathews and the two Keans, together with Giuglini and Titiens, served under his banner, as did also acrobats, conjurers, and pugilists. He "ran" opera, circuses, gambling hells, and "moral waxworks" simultaneously; and, these fields of endeavour not being enough for him, he added to them by standing for Parliament (opposing Samuel Whitbread) and editing the _Sunday Times_. Always a man of resource, when he was conducting a tavern he put his barmaids into "bloomers." This daring stroke had its reward; and, by swelling the consumption of beer, perceptibly increased his bank balance. Hence, it is not perhaps unnatural that such widely spread activities should have inspired a lyrical apostrophe:

Awake, my Muse, with fervour and with pith, To sing the praise of Lessee Edward Smith!

Yet, shrewd as he was, Mr. Smith was himself once bitten. During his money-lending interval, he happened to discount (at what he considered a "business" rate) some bills for £600 out of which Prince Louis Napoleon, then sheltering in London, had been swindled by some card-sharpers at the notorious Judge and Jury Club. The next morning, the victim, coming to his senses, went to the police, and the police went to the sharpers. As a result, the members of the gang were arrested and the bills were cancelled. Feeling that he had a genuine grievance, since he was out of pocket by the transaction, the acceptor waited until a turn of Fortune's wheel had established Louis Napoleon at the Tuileries. He then wrote to him for permission to open some pleasure gardens in Paris on the lines of those he had conducted at Cremorne. The desired permission, however, was withheld.

"No gratitude," said the disappointed applicant.

Tempting as were the prospects he offered, Lola, after some discussion, felt that she could do better, from a financial point of view, without the help of Mr. E. T. Smith. Accordingly, making her own arrangements, she hired the St. James's Hall, where, on April 7, 1859, she delivered the first of a series of four lectures.

Although a considerable interval had elapsed since she was last in London, the public had not forgotten the dramatic circumstances under which she had then appeared at Marlborough Street police court. This fact, combined with the lure of her subject, "Beautiful Women," was sufficient to cram every portion of the building with an interested and expectant audience. They came from all parts. Clapham and Highgate were no less anxious for guidance than Kensington and Belgravia. If an entertainment-tax had been levied at that period the revenue would have benefited substantially. "The appearance on the platform of the fair lecturer," said one account, "was responsible for the most extensive display of opera glasses that has been seen in London since the Empress Eugénie visited the Opera."

By an unfortunate coincidence, the St. James's Hall _première_ clashed with another attraction elsewhere. This was the confirmation that evening of the dusky King of Bonny by the Bishop of London. Still, a considerable number managed to attend both items; and, of the two, the lecture proved the greater draw.

Striking a note of warning at the outset, Lola began by telling her hearers that, "It is the penalty of Nature that young girls must fade and become as wizened as their grandmothers." But she had a message of hope to offer, for, she said, "wrinkles can be warded off and autumn tresses made to preserve their pristine freshness." The cure was merely careful dieting and the "abolition of injurious cosmetics and the health-destroying bodice." Taking the measure of her audience, she laid on flattery with a trowel. "You have," she assured them, "only to look into the ranks of the upper classes to see around you the most beautiful women in Europe; and where this is concerned, I must give the preference to the nobility of England." Among the examples held up for admiration by her were the Duchess of Sutherland--"the paragon and type of Britain's aristocracy"--and "the very voluptuous Lady Blessington." Approval for the Duchess of Wellington, however, was less pronounced, since, while admitting her physical charms, Lola declared her to be "of little intellect, and as cold as a piece of sculpture."

Claiming to have visited Turkey (but omitting to say when), Lola offered an item unrecorded in the archives of the British Embassy there:

"In Turkey I saw very few beautiful women. The lords of creation in that part of the world treat the opposite sex as you would geese--stuff them to make them fat. Through the politeness of Sir Stratford Canning, English Ambassador at Constantinople, I was kindly permitted to visit the Sultan's harem as often as I pleased and there look upon the 'lights of the world.' These 'lights of the world' consisted of five hundred bodies of unwieldy avoirdupois. The ladies of the harem gazed upon my leanness with commiserating wonder."

The lecture finished up on a high note:

"It has been my privilege to see some of the most celebrated beauties that shine in the gilded courts of fashion throughout the world--from St. James's to St. Petersburg, from Paris to India--and yet I am unaware of any quality that can atone for the absence of an unpolished mind and an unlovely heart. A charming activity of soul is the real source of woman's beauty. It is that which gives the sweetest expression to her face and lights up her _personnel_."

In the matter of publicity Lola had nothing of which to complain; and the next morning descriptive columns were published by the dozen.

The début of Madame Lola Montez (announced the _Star_), in the presence of a large and fashionable gathering, was a decided success. Every portion of the spacious and elegant building was completely filled. Madame presented herself in that black velvet costume which seems to be the only alternative to white muslin for ladies who aspire to be considered historic. Not Marie Stuart herself could have become it better than Lola Montez. Her face, air, attitude, and elocution are thoroughly and bewilderingly feminine. Perhaps her smartest and happiest remark was the one in which, with a pretty affectation, she says, "If I were a gentleman, I should like an American young lady to flirt with, but a typical English girl for a wife." This dictum was received with much applause.

One can well believe it.

An anonymous leader, but which, from its florid touches, was evidently penned by George Augustus Sala, dwelt on Lola's personality:

Some disappointment may have been caused by the appearance of the fair lecturer. A Semiramis, a Zenobia, a Cleopatra, in marvellous robes of gold and silver tissue, might have been looked for; but, in reality, the rostrum was occupied by a very handsome lady, with a very charming voice and a very winning smile.... Madame Lola Montez lectures very well and very naturally. Some will go to hear the accomplished elocutionist; others will be envious to see the wife of Captain James and silly Mr. Heald; the friend of Dujarier and Beauvalon; the _cara sposa_ of King Ludwig. Phryne went to the bath as Venus--and Madame Lola Montez lectures at St. James's Hall.

Taking a professional interest in everything connected, however remotely, with the drama (and having more time in which to do it) the _Era_ offered its readers a considered opinion at greater length:

If any amongst the full and fashionable auditory that attended her first appearance fancied (with a lively recollection of certain scandalous chronicles in the newspapers touching upon her antecedents) that they were about to behold a formidable-looking woman, of Amazonian audacity and palpably strong-wristed as well as strong-minded, their disappointment must have been grievous; greater if they anticipated the legendary bulldog at her side, and the traditionary pistols in her girdle, and the horse-whip in her hand. The Lola Montez who made a graceful and impressive obeisance to those who gave her on Thursday night so cordial and encouraging a reception appeared simply as a good-looking lady in the bloom of womanhood, attired in a plain black dress, with easy unrestrained manners.... The lecture might have been a newspaper article, the first chapter of a book of travels, or the speech of a long-winded American Ambassador at a Mansion House dinner. All was exceedingly decorous and diplomatic, slightly gilded here and there with those commonplace laudations that stir a British public into the utterance of patriotic plaudits. A more inoffensive entertainment could hardly be imagined; and when the six sections into which the lady had divided her discourse, were exhausted, and her final bow elicited a renewal of the applause that had accompanied her entrance, the impression on the departing visitors must have been that of having spent an hour in company with a well-informed lady who had gone to America, had seen much to admire there, and, coming back, had had over the tea-table the talk of the evening to herself. Whatever the future disquisitions of the Countess of Landsfeld may be, there is little doubt that many will go to hear them for the sake of the peculiar celebrity of the lecturer.

To this, the _Era_ reporter naïvely added: "Her foreign accent might belong to any language from Irish to Bavarian."

Lola did not have the field entirely to herself. While she was telling the St. James's Hall public how to improve their appearance at very small cost, a rival practitioner, with a _salon_ in Bond Street, was, in the advertisement columns of the morning papers, announcing her readiness to furnish the necessary requisites at a very high figure. This was a "Madame Rachel," some of whose dupes parted with as much as five hundred guineas, on the understanding that she would make them "Beautiful for ever!"

Like Lola Montez, "Madame Rachel" brought out a puff pamphlet, directing attention to her specifics. This production beat the effort of the Rev. Chauncey Burr, for it bristled with references, to the Bible and Shakespeare, to Grace Darling and Florence Nightingale. Among her nostrums was a bottle of "Jordan Water," which she sold at the modest figure of £15 15s. a flask. Chemical analysis, however, revealed it to have come, not from Palestine, but from the River Thames. She also supplied, on extortionate terms, various drugs and "medical treatment" of a description upon which the Law frowns heavily. As a result, "Madame Rachel" left Bond Street for the dock of the Old Bailey, where she was sent to penal servitude for swindling.

In the lecture on "Wits and Women of Paris," Lola did not forget her old friends. She had a good word for Dumas:

"Of the literary lights during my residence in Paris, Alexandre Dumas was the first, as he would be in any city anywhere. He was not only the boon companion of princes, but he was the prince of boon companions. He is now about fifty-five years old, a tall, fine-looking man, with intellect stamped on his brow. Of all the men I ever met he is the most brilliant in conversation. He is always sought for at convivial suppers, and is always sure to attend them."

Discretion, perhaps, prevented her saying anything about Dujarier and the tragedy of his death. Still, she had something to say about Roger de Beauvoir, whom she declared to be "one of the three men that kept Paris alive when I was there." Her recollection of Jules Janin rankled. "He was," she said, "a malicious and caustic critic. Everybody feared him, and everybody was civil to him through fear. I do not know anyone (even his wife) who loves him in Paris." But Eugéne Sue was in another category. "He was an honest, sincere, truth-loving man; and it will be long before Paris can fill the place which his death has made vacant."

In the "Heroines of History" lecture the audience were told that "All history is full of startling examples of female heroism, proving that woman's heart is made of as stout a stuff and of as brave a metal as that which beats within the ribs of the coarser sex." But, feminist as she was, Lola had no sympathy with any suggestion to grant them the franchise. "Women who get together in conventions for the purpose of ousting men will never," she declared, "accomplish anything. They can effect legislation only by quiet and judicious counsel. These convention women are very poor politicians."

The last lectures in the series dealt with "Comic Aspects of Love," and "Strong-minded Women." Among the typical specimens offered for consideration were such diverse personalities as Semiramis, Queen Elizabeth, the Countess of Derby, George Sand, and Mrs. Bloomer. In the discourse on "The Comic Aspects of Love" the range swept from Aristotle and Plato to Mahomet and the Mormons. If the B.B.C. had been in existence, Lola would undoubtedly have been booked for a "talk." As it was, two of the lectures were reprinted in _The Welcome Guest_, "a magazine of recreative reading for all," with Robert Browning, Charles Kingsley and Monckton Milnes among its contributors. Thinking they had a market, an enterprising publisher rushed out a volume, _The Lectures of Lola Montez_. When a copy reached the editor, it was reviewed in characteristically elephantine fashion by the _Athenæum_:

"We can imagine the untravelled dames of Fifth Avenue listening with wonder to a female lecturer who seems to have lived hand in glove with all the crowned heads of Europe; and who can tell them, not only Who's-Who, but also repeat their conversations, criticise their personal appearances, and describe the secret arts by which the men preserve their powers and the women their beauty."