"Senora Lola Montez, yielding to that instinct of inconstancy so strong in her s.e.x, is announced to have chosen the Opera instead of the Cloister.

"That evening the theatre was crowded to suffocation, and the following days the receipts were enormous."

De Mirecourt, who p.r.o.nounced young Heald's desire to marry Lola in due and proper form, _idee d'Anglais_, must be allowed his sneer. We who know in what spirit the adventuress ended her career, and to what strange impulses she was subject, may hesitate to dismiss her momentary attraction to the cloister as a mere advertising manoeuvre. The woman was disillusioned, sore at heart, and world-weary; her restlessness bespeaks a mind ill at ease; her beauty showed signs of fading, she had no home, no ties, no kindred. It is likely that for a moment her resolve to end her days in the supposed tranquillity of the convent was genuine enough. It pa.s.sed; as yet the joy of living was too strong in her to be crushed down.

XXIX

IN THE TRAIL OF THE ARGONAUTS

The Creole City at that time swarmed with gold-seekers on their way to or returning from the newly-found Ophir of the Occident. Though the first headlong rush to California was over, it still drew its thousands every month, and Greeley's famous advice to the young man was followed without having been asked. Lola became infected with the fever. There was much of the gambler in her nature, and her zest for adventure was keener than of old. At this time, too, a positive distaste for civilisation appears to have possessed her. It may have been the vision of a wild, unfettered life in a virgin land that dispelled the sickly hankerings for the cloister.

She sailed across the Gulf of Mexico to San Juan del Norte, or Greytown, as it is now called, the newly opened halfway-house to the gold-fields.

Thence the route lay across the beautiful savannahs of Nicaragua to the Pacific sh.o.r.e. She pa.s.sed the white-walled towns of Leon and Rivas, which Walker and his filibusters two years later harried with fire and sword.

This was an alternative route to that across the isthmus of Panama, which she was fabled to have followed in a book by Russell, the war-correspondent, called the "Adventures of Mrs. Seacole." Lola refers to this mendacious romance in her little autobiography, and quotes the following pa.s.sage in order to characterise it at the finish as a base fabrication from beginning to end:--

"Occasionally some distinguished pa.s.sengers pa.s.sed on the upward and downward tides of ruffianism and rascality that swept periodically through Cruces. Came one day Lola Montez, in the full zenith of her evil fame, bound for California with a strange suite. A good-looking, bold woman, with fine, bad eyes and a determined bearing, dressed ostentatiously in perfect male attire, with shirt collar turned down over a velvet lapelled coat, richly worked shirt-front, black hat, French unmentionables, and natty polished boots with spurs. She carried in her hand a handsome riding-whip, which she could use as well in the streets of Cruces as in the towns of Europe; for an impertinent American, presuming, perhaps not unnaturally, upon her reputation, laid hold jestingly of the tails of her long coat, and, as a lesson, received a cut across his face that must have marked him for some days. I did not see the row which followed, and was glad when the wretched woman rode off on the following morning."

The incident is a spicy little bit of fiction, such as is so easily invented by the fertile journalistic brain. The adjectives applied to Lola also ill.u.s.trate, in a mildly diverting manner, the strictly orthodox notions of morality entertained by the newspaper press, and the pontifical confidence with which journalists p.r.o.nounce on questions of conduct.[25]

On the long journey to the golden gate, Lola had as a fellow-pa.s.senger a young man named Patrick Purdy Hull, a native of Ohio, and editor of the _San Francisco Whig_. The acquaintance thus formed soon ripened into an attachment. Though, upon her arrival in California, the Countess immediately went on tour among the mining camps, her new victim did not lose sight of her. For the third time Lola went through the ceremony of wedlock. On 1st July 1853 she married Hull at the Church of the Mission Dolores, "in presence," runs the report, "of a select party, among whom were Beverly C. Saunders, Esq., Judge Wills, James E. Wainwright, Esq., A.

Bartol, Esq., Louis R. Lull, S. A. Brinsmade, and other prominent citizens"--all among the most remarkable men in that country, no doubt.

"The bride and groom have since visited Sacramento, and are now in domestic retirement at San Francisco."[26]

From the reports of remarkable men and prominent citizens shooting each other in the public streets, of bandits raiding the suburbs, of fires and floods, that accompany this announcement, we should imagine that domestic retirement in San Francisco was at that time subject to frequent and unpleasant interruption. On this account, perhaps, Mr. and Mrs. Hull spent much of their time hunting in the valley of the Sacramento. Lola was in search of new sensations, and for the moment the bear seemed a more attractive quarry than the man. But before long a German medical man, named Adler, himself a mighty hunter, came across her path. His prowess excited her admiration, and he at once fell a victim to the shafts from her quiver. Hull was discarded and the German reigned in his stead.

In these American _amours_ we seem to detect the last flickerings of the flame of pa.s.sion--the woman's last strenuous efforts to find a real and lasting interest in life. But Lola had played too much with love. That mighty force which she had so often exploited and exerted to the furtherance of her ambitions was no longer at her command. Her capacity for love was exhausted; by pa.s.sion she was no more to rule or to be ruled.

She had hardly time to tire of her German lover, who accidentally shot himself while following the chase--no bad death for a hunter. It might have been expected that Lola would now quit California and return to more congruous surroundings. But a distaste for men and cities, for the restraints of civilisation, had grown strong within her. Just then she was sick of love and sick of the world. At her best, a splendid animal, with fierce elemental pa.s.sions, she turned almost instinctively, to draw fresh supplies of vitality from "the green, sweet-hearted earth." She made herself a home in a cabin at Gra.s.s Valley, a lawless mining camp, among the foot-hills of the Sierra Nevada. All her life she had loved animals, and these she now made her special friends and companions, finding in their marvellous stores of affection and devotion ample compensation for the muddy evanescent emotion that men call love. She did not, of course, lead the life of a hermit. We catch glimpses of her in a despatch from Nevada City, dated 20th January 1854:--

"The merry ringing of sleigh bells has been heard for several days past in our city. Several sleighs have been fitted up, and the young gentlemen have treated the ladies to some dashing turn-outs. On Tuesday last, Lola Montez paid us a visit by this conveyance and a span of horses, decorated with impromptu cowbells. She flashed like a meteor through the snowflakes and wanton s...o...b..a.l.l.s, and after a tour of the thoroughfares, disappeared in the direction of Gra.s.s Valley."

There she continued to dwell during the rest of that year, her liking for the simple life unabated. A correspondent of the _San Francisco Herald_, who visited her on 13th December, describes her as--

"living a quiet, and apparently cosy life, surrounded by her pet birds, dogs, goats, sheep, hens, turkeys, pigs, and her pony. The latter seems to be a favourite with Lola, and is her companion in all her mountain rambles. Surely it is a strange metamorphosis to find the woman who has gained a world-renowned notoriety, and has played a part upon the stage of life with powerful potentates, and with whose name Europe and the world is familiar, finally settled down at home in the mountain wilds of California."

A strange change, indeed, but no unpleasant life it could have been. What memories, what scenes, must have supplied food for the lonely woman's musings, as she galloped over the hills, or, seated with her dogs, gazed into her great fire of resinous logs! In communion thus with our great mother, treading these virgin forests, and breathing an air hardly yet inhaled by man, she might have attained to a higher, truer plane of existence than that which she finally took to be firm ground. But luck was against her here, as always. A fire swept away the township of Gra.s.s Valley, and with it Lola's little homestead--the only home that she had ever known. Her animals were dispersed, she was without funds. But she had renewed her stock of vitality at Nature's fountains. She went on her travels again, reinvigorated: a coa.r.s.er woman, no doubt, thanks to her contact with miners and hunters, but, perhaps, a better one. She still loved the new auriferous lands. In the track of the sun she would continue to journey, and in June sailed from California across the ocean to Australia.

x.x.x

IN AUSTRALIA

Even to the antipodes--in the 'fifties unconnected by the telegraph with the rest of the world, and distant a three months' journey from England--the fame of the Countess of Landsfeld had extended. Her name had travelled completely round the world, and was as familiar to the people of Sydney as to those of London and Paris. Lola found that her prolonged rest cure had weakened in no way her hold on public curiosity. The moment for her arrival in New South Wales was not, however, well chosen. Commerce and agriculture were alike depressed, and the mind of the Colonists was preoccupied with the business of const.i.tution-making. The city lay, too, under the spell of a celebrated Irish singer, Miss Catherine Hayes, "the sweet swan of Erin." It is, perhaps, worth noting that this vocalist was born at the same town as Lola, was married at the same church (St.

George's, Hanover Square), and was to die the same year; that she made her _debut_ under the same manager (Benjamin Lumley), at the same theatre, and that the two women had for the last year or two trodden undeviatingly in each other's footsteps. Miss Hayes had been in possession of the Prince of Wales's Theatre nearly a fortnight, when Lola's arrival startled the eldest Australian city. The newcomer was engaged by Tonning of the Victoria Theatre, and was announced to appear, together with Mr. Lambert, Mr. Falland, and Mr. C. Jones, on 23rd August 1855, in the four-act drama, _Lola Montez in Bavaria_. The theatre was crowded to excess.

"The Countess looked charming, and acted very archly. She was cheered vociferously, and recalled before the curtain, when she delivered a short address. Mr. Lambert (well known in London) created quite a sensation in the King of Bavaria (by which name he is now known), and at the end of the performance the Countess presented him with a handsome bundle of cigarettes--a very great compliment, as she is an inveterate smoker, and seldom gives any cigars away.

"The excitement about her immediately empties the Prince of Wales's Theatre, and Miss Hayes is then taken suddenly ill. Two nights after the Countess of Landsfeld is seriously indisposed, and Miss Hayes recovers. Her recovery restores Lola Montez to perfect health."[27]

On 27th August she appeared in _Yelva, or the Orphan of Russia_, "a new and exciting drama" she had herself translated from the French. On Wednesday, 6th September, she took a benefit, playing in _The Follies of a Night_, and two farces. Into one of these she introduced her "Spider Dance," which seems to have outraged colonial opinion. We need not condemn it on that account as immodest, for in our own day we have seen a performance interdicted as offensive to public morals in Manchester, and p.r.o.nounced (rightly) to be the quintessence of mobile grace and the truest poetry of motion in the not less considerable city of London. Immodesty in the minds of many people definitely connotes that which pleases the eyes and the senses.

Business continued dull at Sydney, and Lola departed in the second week of September for Melbourne. A dispute had arisen between her and another member of her company, Mrs. Fiddes, who issued a writ of attachment against her. Brown, the sheriff, went aboard the steamer to apprehend Lola, who retired to her cabin till the vessel was well under weigh. She then sent word that the officer could arrest her if he would, but she was obliged to tell him that she was quite naked. The bold expedient was, of course, successful. "Poor Brown," we are told, "blushed and retired, and was put on sh.o.r.e at the Heads, about twenty miles from Sydney, and was greeted on his return to the city with roars of laughter." The sheriff evidently did not object to repeating a good story, even at his own expense.

At Melbourne, Lola must have been vividly reminded of California. The gold fever was at its height. The population of the Port Philip district had swollen in five years from 76,000 to 364,000, of which number at least two-thirds were men. Men, too, they were, of every nationality under the sun, and of every cla.s.s, though the more criminal and dangerous elements were in the ascendant. In '55 life and property were, notwithstanding, somewhat more secure here than in California, thanks to the firmer, less corrupt administration of British officials. Prices were, it need not be said, extravagantly high, though the barest necessities of decent life were hardly obtainable outside Melbourne and Geelong. A goldfield would seem to be one of the most brutalising environments to which a human being can adapt himself.

For our knowledge of Lola's doings in the Victorian capital, we are indebted to the _Era's_ local correspondent. He writes:--

"Lola Montez made her _debut_ on 21st September, in a short drama allusive to her own Bavarian transactions, but the piece might well have borne curtailment. There was a very crowded audience. The _ci-devant_ Countess of Landsfeld seemed determined to preserve her notoriety intact by the selection, but entrenched so far upon decorum in the 'Spider Dance' on a subsequent evening, that she did not face the clamour raised in consequence till the objectionable portions were agreed to be omitted. She is certainly a very singular character, but there is an ever lively and brusque style in her action that seems to catch general approbation for the time being.

"After a brief stay, Lola departed for Geelong; but there, I learn, her performances were freely condemned. Indeed, their laxness was also much canva.s.sed with us, and the more staid of the visitors openly enough expressed their censure. Subsequently to the performance, Dr.

Milman demanded of the Mayor at the City Court, in the name of an outraged community, that a warrant be issued against all repet.i.tion of the performances of Mme. Lola Montez at the Theatre Royal. The Mayor referred the matter to the private room of the magistrates, considering that should be the proper place for its discussion. The bench declared that the law would not sustain them in issuing a warrant unless the Doctor had actually witnessed the performance, and had his information properly attested by witnesses. This he declared he would do."

The methods of these self-const.i.tuted champions of outraged morality are the same in every age. They condemn first, and collect evidence afterwards--if at all.

Opinion in Geelong does not seem to have been as hostile as the _Era's_ correspondent supposed. In the _Geelong Advertiser_ of 10th October is to be found the following paragraph:--

ILLNESS OF LOLA MONTEZ

"Owing to severe indisposition, this talented actress is unable to appear before a Geelong audience. When competent to perform, her reappearance will be duly notified. Madame is suffering from severe cold and bronchitis, and is now under the care of Dr. Thompson, of Melbourne. To previous indisposition was superadded a severe attack induced by exposure to the thunderstorm on Sat.u.r.day."

Lola's illness was of a pa.s.sing character. That it in no way impaired her vigour we shall presently see. From Melbourne she proceeded to the goldfields, moving among the most desperate characters of the two hemispheres undismayed and unafraid, a woman capable of defending herself with whip and tongue. A singular character, in truth was hers, thus equally at home in kings' courts and miners' camps, able to parry and to counterplot against the schemes and intrigues of Metternich, able to subdue and to tame the half-savage ex-convicts and desperadoes of the Australian diggings.

At Ballaarat occurred the celebrated fracas with Mr. Seekamp. This man was the editor of the local newspaper (the _Times_), and upon Lola's arrival in the town, he published an article, putting the worst construction on the episodes of her past life, and reflecting in uncomplimentary terms on her character. He was, no doubt, another guardian of public morality, which in mining camps is, of course, a very delicate growth. A few evenings afterwards, he was so rash as to call at the United States Hotel, where the woman he had traduced was staying. Being informed that he was below, Lola ran downstairs with a riding-whip, and laid it across his back with right good will. The journalist also held a whip, with which he defended himself l.u.s.tily. Before long the combatants had each other literally by the hair. The bystanders interposed, and the two were separated, but not before life-preservers and revolvers had been produced.

It seems to us an unedifying performance, though a woman, if insulted, has undoubtedly the right to chastise her offender physically, if she is able.

Such was the view taken by the miners of Ballaarat. At the theatre that evening she was the object of an ovation, which she acknowledged at the conclusion of the performance.

"I thank you," she said, "most sincerely for your friendship. I regret to be obliged to refer again to Mr. Seekamp, but it is not my fault, as he again in this morning's paper repeated his attack upon me. You have heard of the scene that took place this afternoon. Mr. Seekamp threatens to continue his charges against my character. I offered, though a woman, to meet him with pistols; but the coward who could beat a woman, ran from a woman. He says he will drive me off the diggings; but I will change the tables, and make Seekamp _de_camp (applause). My good friends, again I thank you."[28]

This conduct was "unladylike," no doubt, but courageous; ungracious, but absolutely necessary.

Seekamp, bruised and humiliated, thirsted for revenge. We find him publishing a story of his conqueror's defeat in the _Ballaarat Times_. The authority can hardly be regarded as unimpeachable, but with amusing simplicity it has been accepted as such by all who have written about Lola. According, then, to the ungallant Mr. Seekamp, the Countess of Landsfeld was engaged by a manager, named Crosby--of what theatre is not stated. At "treasury" the actress had a misunderstanding with this gentleman, and flew into a violent rage. At this opportune moment a relief force appeared in the person of Mrs. Crosby, armed with a whip. With this she chastised Lola so severely that the weapon broke. The antagonists then threw themselves upon each other, and the rest (says the delicately-minded journalist) may be imagined rather than described. Mr. Seekamp's recent experience should indeed have enabled him to imagine such a scene without difficulty; in fact, he probably imagined this one. He concludes: "At last this terrible virago has found, not her master, but her mistress, and for many a long day will be incapable of performing at any theatre."

These words were written, possibly, while Lola was on her way to Europe.

She appears to have quitted Australia in March or April 1856. With her arrival in France in August that year, she completed her trip round the world.

x.x.xI

LOLA AS A LECTURER