III

Berrymead Priory, Acton, where Lola Montez lived with Cornet HealdBerrymead Priory, Acton, where Lola Montez lived with Cornet Heald

A press representative, happening to be among the congregation, rushed off to Grub Street. There he was rewarded with a welcome five shillings by his editor, who, in high glee at securing such a piece of news before any other journal, had a characteristic paragraph on the subject:

Lola Montez, Countess of Landsfeld, the ex-danseuse and ex-favourite of the imbecile old King of Bavaria, is, we are able to inform our readers, at last married legitimately.On ditthat her young husband, Mr. George Trafford Heald, has been dragged into the match somewhat hurriedly. It will be curious to mark the progress of the Countess in this novel position. A sudden change from a career of furious excitement to one in which prudence and a regard for the rules of good society are the very opposite to those observed by loose foreigners must prove a trial to her. Whipping commissaries of police, and setting ferocious dogs at inoffensive civilians, may do very well for Munich. In England, however, we are scarcely prepared for these activities, even if they be deemed the privilege of a countess.

Disraeli, who had a hearty appetite for all the tit-bits of gossip discussed in Mayfair drawing-rooms, heard of the match and mentioned it in a letter to his sister, Sarah:

July, 1849.

The Lola Montez marriage makes a sensation. I believe he [Heald] has only £3,000 per annum, not £13,000. It was an affair of a few days. She sent to ask the refusal of his dog, which she understood was for sale—of course it wasn't, being very beautiful. But he sent it as a present. She rejoined; he called; and they weremarried in a week. He is only twenty-one, and wished to be distinguished. Their dinner invitations are already out, I am told. She quite convinced him previously that she was not Mrs. James; and, as for the King of Bavaria, who, by the by, allows her £1500 a year, and to whom she writes every day—that was only amalheureusepassion.

Apropos of this union, a popular riddle went the round of the clubs: "Why does a certain young officer of the Life Guards resemble a much mended pair of shoes?" The answer was, "Because he has been heeled [Heald] and soled [sold]."

The honeymoon was spent at Berrymead Priory, a house that the bridegroom owned at Acton. This was a substantial Gothic building, with several acres of well timbered ground and gardens. Some distance, perhaps, from the Cornet's barracks. Still, one imagines he did not take his military duties very seriously; and leave of absence "on urgent private affairs" was, no doubt, granted in liberal fashion. Also, he possessed a phæton, in which, with a spanking chestnut between the shafts, the miles would soon be covered.

The Priory had a history stretching back to the far off days of Henry III, when it belonged to the Chapter of St. Paul's Cathedral. Henry VII, in high-handed fashion, presented it to the Earl of Bedford; and a subsequent occupant was the notorious Elizabeth Chudleigh, the bigamous spouse of the Duke of Kingston. Another light lady, Nancy Dawson, is also said to have lived there as its châtelaine, under the "protection" of the Duke of Newcastle.

At the beginning of the last century the property was acquired by a Colonel Clutton. He was followed by Edward Bulwer, afterwards Lord Lytton, who lived there on and off (chiefly off) with his wife, until their separation in 1836. On one occasion he gave a dinner-party, among the guests being John Forster, "to meet Miss Landon, Fontblanque, and Hayward." To the invitation was added the warning, "Wedine at half-past five, to allow time for return, and regret much having no spare beds as yet." A spare bed, however, was available for Lord Beaconsfield, when he dined there in the following year.

On the departure of Bulwer, the house had a succession of tenants; and for a short period it even sheltered a bevy of Nuns of the Sacred Heart. It was when they left that the estate was purchased by Mr. George Heald, a barrister with a flourishing practice. He left it to his booby son, the Cornet: and it was thus that Lola Montez established her connection with Berrymead Priory.

While the original house still stands, the garden in which it stood has gone; and the building itself now serves as the premises of the Acton Constitutional Club. But the committee have been careful to preserve some evidence of Cornet Heald's occupancy. Thus, his crest and family motto,Nemo sibi Nascitur, are let into the mosaic flooring of the hall, and the drawing-room ceiling is embellished with his initials picked out in gold.

Prejudice, perhaps, but unions between the sons of Mars and the daughters of Terpsichore were in those days frowned upon by the military big-wigs at the Horse Guards. Hence, it was not long before an inspired note on the subject of this one appeared in theStandard:

We learn from undoubted authority that, immediately on the marriage of Lieutenant Heald with the Countess of Landsfeld, the Marquess of Londonderry, Colonel of the 2nd Life Guards, took the most decisive steps to recommend to Her Majesty that this officer's resignation of his commission should be insisted on; and that he should at once leave the regiment, which this unfortunate and extraordinary act might possibly prejudice.

Her Majesty, having consulted the Prince Consort and the Duke of Wellington, shared this view. Instead, however, ofbeing summarily "gazetted out," the love-sick young warrior was permitted to "send in his papers."

Thinking that he had acted precipitately in resigning, Cornet Heald (egged on, doubtless, by Lola) endeavoured to get his resignation cancelled. The authorities, however, were adamant. "Much curiosity," says a journalistic comment, "has been aroused among the Household Troops by the efforts of this officer to regain his commission after having voluntarily relinquished it. Notwithstanding his youth and the fact that he had given way to a sudden impulse, Lord Londonderry was positively inflexible. Yet the influence and eloquence of a certain ex-Chancellor, well known to the bride, was brought to bear on him."

The "certain ex-Chancellor" was none other than Lord Brougham.

Much criticism followed in other circles. Everybody had an opinion to advance. Most of them were far from complimentary, and there were allusions by the dozen to "licentious soldiery" and "gilded popinjays." The rigid editor ofThe Black Book of the British Aristocracywas particularly indignant. "The Army," he declared, in a fierce outburst, "is the especial favourite of the aristocratic section. Any brainless young puppy with a commission is free to lounge away his time in dandyism and embryo moustaches at the public expense."

TheSatirist, living up to its name, also had its customary sting:

Of course, the gallant Colonel of the Household Troops could not do less. That distinguished corps is immaculate; and no breath of wind must come between it and its propriety. There is but one black sheep in the 2nd Life Guards, and that, in the eyes of the coal black colonel (him of the collieries), is the soft, enchanted, and enchained Mr. Heald. Poor Heald! Indignant Londonderry! How subservient, in truth, must be the lean subaltern to his fat colonel.

A Sunday organ followed suit. "What," it demanded, "may be the precise article of the military code against which Mr. Heald is thought to have offended? One could scarcely have supposed that officers in Her Majesty's service were living under such a despotism that they should be compelled to solicit permission to get married, or their colonel's approbation of their choice."

In addition to thus disapproving of marriages between his officers and ladies of the stage, Lord Londonderry (a veteran of fifty-five years' service) disapproved with equal vigour of tobacco. "What," he once wrote to Lord Combermere, "are the Gold Sticks to do with that sink of smoking, the Horse Guards' guard and mess-rooms? Whenever I have visited them, I have found themworsethan any pot-house, and this actually opposite the Adjutant-General's and under his Grace's very nose!"

The example set by Cornet Heald seems to have been catching. "Another young officer of this regiment," announced theGlobe, "has just run off with a frail lady belonging to the Theatre and actually married her at Brighton." He, too, was required to "send in his papers."

Besides losing his commission, Cornet Heald had, in his marriage, all unwittingly laid up a peck of fresh trouble for himself. This was brought to a head by the action of his spinster aunt, Miss Susannah Heald, who, until he came of age, had been his guardian. Suspecting Lola of a "past," she set herself to pry into it. Gathering that her nephew's inamorata had already been married, she employed enquiry agents to look into this previous union and discover just how and when it had been dissolved. They did their work well, and reported that the divorce decree of seven years earlier had not been made absolute, and that Lola's first husband, Captain James, was still alive. Armed with this knowledge, Miss Heald hurried off to the authorities, and, having "laid an information," had Lola Montez arrested for bigamy.

The case was heard at Marlborough Street police court,with Mr. Bingham sitting as Magistrate. Mr. Clarkson conducted the prosecution, and Mr. Bodkin appeared for the defence.

"The proceedings of a London police court," declaredJohn Bull, "have seldom presented a case more fruitful of matter for public gossip than was exhibited in the investigation at Marlborough Street, where the mediated wife of a British officer (and one invested with the distinction of Royal favouritism) answered a charge of imputed bigamy.... It will readily be inferred that we allude to that extraordinary personage known as Lola Montez,aliasthe Countess of Landsfeld."

Lola had, as the theatrical world would put it, dressed for the part. She had probably rehearsed it, too. She wore, we learn, "a black silk costume, under a velvet jacket, and a plain white straw bonnet trimmed with blue ribbons." As became a countess, she was not required to sit in the dock, but was given a chair in front of it. "There," said a reporter, "she appeared quite unembarrassed, and smiled frequently as she made a remark to her husband. She was described on the charge sheet as being twenty-four years of age, but in our opinion she has the look of a woman of at least thirty."

"In figure," added a second occupant of the press box, "madam is rather plump, and of middle height, with pale complexion, unusually large blue eyes and long black lashes. Her reputed husband, Mr. Heald, is a tall young man of boyish aspect, fair hair and small brown moustachios and whiskers. During the whole of the proceedings he sat with the Countess's hand clasped in his, occasionally giving it a fervent squeeze, and murmuring fondly in her ear."

All being ready, Mr. Clarkson opened the case for the prosecution.

"The offence imputed to the lady at the bar," he said, "is that, well knowing her husband, Captain Thomas James, was still alive, she contracted another marriage with this young gentleman, Mr. George Trafford Heald. If this be established,serious consequences must follow, as I shall prove that the Ecclesiastical Court merely granted a decreea mensa et thoro." He then put in a copy of this document, and pointed out that, by its provisions, neither party was free to re-marry during the lifetime of the other. Counsel also submitted an extract from the register of the Hanover Square church, showing that, on July 19, the defendant had, under the name of "Maria Torres de Landsfeld," gone through a ceremony of marriage with Cornet Heald.

Police-sergeant Gray, who had executed the warrant, described the arrest.

"When I told her she must come along with me, the lady up and said: 'This is all rubbish. I was properly divorced from Captain James by Act of Parliament. Lord Brougham was present when the divorce was granted. I don't know if Captain James is still alive or not, and I don't care a little bit. I was married to him in the wrong name, and that made the whole thing illegal.'"

"Did she say anything else?" enquired the magistrate.

"Yes, Your Worship," returned the sergeant, consulting his note-book. "She said: 'What on earth will the Royal Family say when they hear of this? There's bound to be the devil of a fuss.'"

"Laughter in Court!" chronicled the pressmen.

"And what did you say to that?" enquired Mr. Bingham.

"I said that anything she said would be taken down by myself and used in evidence against her," was the glib response.

The execution of the warrant would appear to have been carried out in dramatic fashion.

Having evidently got wind of what was awaiting her, Lola and the Cornet had packed their luggage and arranged to leave England. Just as they were stepping into their carriage, Miss Susannah Heald and her solicitor, accompanied by a couple of police officers, drove up in a cab to Half Moon Street. When the latter announced that they had a warrantfor her arrest, there was something of a scene. "The Countess," declared an imaginative reporter (who must have been hovering on the doorstep), "exhibited all the appearance of excessive passion. She used very strong language, pushed the elderly Miss Heald aside, and bustled her husband in vigorous fashion. However, she soon cooled down, and, on being escorted to Vine Street police station, where the charge of bigamy was booked, she graciously apologised for any trouble she had given the representatives of the law. She then begged permission to light a cigar, and suggested that the constables on duty there should join her in a social whiff."

Miss Susannah Heald, described as "an aged lady," deposed that she was Cornet Heald's aunt, and that she had been appointed his guardian during his minority, which had only just expired. She was bringing the action, she insisted, "from a sense of duty."

Another witness was Captain Charles Ingram, a mariner in the service of the East India Company. He identified the accused as the Mrs. James who had sailed in a ship under his command from Calcutta to London in the year 1842.

While an official return, prepared by the military authorities, showed Captain James to have been alive on June 13, there was none to show that he was still in the land of the living on July 19, the date of the alleged bigamous marriage. The prosecution affected to consider this point unimportant. The magistrate, however (on whom Lola's bright eyes had done their work), did not agree.

"The point," he said, "is, to my mind, very important. During the interval that elapsed between these two dates many things may have happened which would render this second marriage quite legal. It is possible, for instance, that Captain James may have been snatched from this world to another one by any of those numerous casualties—such as wounds in action or cholera—that are apt to befall members of the military profession serving in a tropical climate. What do you say to that, Mr. Clarkson?"

Mr. Clarkson had nothing to say. Mr. Bodkin, however, when it came to his turn, had a good deal to say. The charge against his client was, he declared, "in all his professional experience, absolutely unparalleled." Neither the first nor the second husband, he pointed out, had advanced any complaint; and the offence, if any, had been committed under circumstances that fully justified it. He did not wish to hint at improper motives on the part of Miss Heald, but it was clear, he protested, that her attitude was governed by private, and not by public, ends. None the less, he concluded, "I am willing to admit that enough has been put before the Court to justify further enquiry."

Such an admission was a slip which even the very rawest of counsel should have avoided. It forced the hand of the magistrate.

"I am asked," he said, "to act on a presumption of guilt. As proof of guilt is wanting, I am reluctant to act on such presumption, even to the extent of granting a remand, unless the prosecution can assure me that more evidence will be offered at another hearing. Since, however, the defendant's own advocate has voluntarily admitted that there is ground for further enquiry, I am compelled to order a remand. But the accused will be released from custody on providing two sureties of £500 each, and herself in one of £1000."

The adjourned proceedings began a week later, and were heard by another magistrate, Mr. Hardwick. This time, however, there was no defendant, for, on her name being called by the usher, Mr. Bodkin pulled a long face and announced that his client had left England. "I cannot," he said, "offer any reason for her absence." Still, he had a suggestion. "It is possible," he said, "that she has gone abroad for the benefit of her health." The question of estreating the recognizances then arose. While not prepared to abandon them altogether, counsel for the prosecution was sufficiently generous to say that so far as he was concerned no objection would be offered to extending them.

When, after two more adjournments, the defendant still failed to surrender to her bail, the magistrate and counsel for the prosecution altered their tone.

"Your Worship," said Mr. Clarkson, "it has come to my knowledge that the person whose real name is Mrs. James, and who is charged with the felonious crime of bigamy, is now some hundreds of miles beyond your jurisdiction, and does not mean to appear. Accordingly, on behalf of the highly respectable Miss Heald, I now ask that the recognizances be forfeited. My client has been actuated all through by none but the purest motives, her one object being to remove the only son of a beloved brother from a marriage that was as illegal as it was disgraceful. If we secure evidence from India that Captain James is still alive, we shall then adopt the necessary steps to remove this deluded lad from the fangs of this scheming woman."

"Let the recognizances be estreated," was the magisterial comment.

"Sensation!" scribbled the reporters.

Serjeant Ballantine, who liked to have a hand in allcauses célèbres, declares that he was consulted by Lola's solicitors, with a view to undertaking her defence. If so, he would seem to have read his instructions very casually, since he adds: "I forget whether the prosecution was ultimately dropped, or whether she left England before any result was arrived at. My impression is that the charge could not have been substantiated."

Ignoring the fact that the case was stillsub judice, theObserveroffered its readers some severe comments:

"The Helen of the age is most assuredly Lola Montez,aliasBetsy James,aliasthe Gräfin von Lansfelt,aliasMrs. Heald. As far as can be gathered from her dark history, her first public act was alleged adultery, as her last is alleged bigamy.... The evidence produced before the Consistory Court is of the most clear and convincing nature, and proves that the character of this lady (whose fame has become sodisgustingly notorious) has been from an early date that of a mere wanton, alike unmindful of the sacred ties of matrimony and utterly careless of the opinion of the world upon morality or religion."

Lola Montez in London. Aged thirty (Engraved by Auguste Hüssner)Lola Montez in London. Aged thirty (Engraved by Auguste Hüssner)

By the way, during the police court proceedings, fresh light on the subject of Lola's parentage was furnished by an odd entry in an Irish paper:

"Lola Montez, Countess of Landsfeld, is the daughter of a Cork lady. Her mother was at one time employed as a member of a millinery establishment in this city; and was married here to Lieutenant Gilbert, an officer in the army. Soon after the marriage, he sailed with his wife and child to join his regiment in India. At the end of last year, Lola's mother, who is now in delicate health, visited her sister in Cork."

Thanks to the bright eyes of Lola (or perhaps to the musical jingle of the Cornet's cash bags), a very loose watch was kept on the pair. Hence the reason why the Countess of Landsfeld (as she still insisted on being called) had not kept her second appointment at Marlborough Street was because, together with the dashing ex-Life Guardsman, she had left England early that morning. Travelling as Mr. and Mrs. Heald, the pair went, first, to Paris, and then to Italy.

A British tourist who happened to be in Naples wrote toThe Times, giving an account of a glimpse he had of them. According to him, the couple, "a youthful bridegroom and a fair lady," accompanied by a courier, afemme de chambre, and a carriage, took rooms at the Hotel Vittoria. After one night there, they left the next morning, hiring a special steamer, at a cost of £400, to take them to Marseilles. The hurried departure was said to be due to a lawyer's letters that was waiting for the bridegroom at his banker's. "I am told," adds the correspondent, "that Mr. and Mrs. Heald were bound on an excursion to the Pyramids; and that, when the little business for which the lady is wanted at home has been settled, theymean to prosecute their intention. Pray, sir, help Mrs. Heald out of her present affliction. Is this the first time that a lady has had two husbands? And is she not bound for the East, where every man has four wives?"

The booby Cornet, with his ideas limited to fox-hunting and a study ofRuff's Guide, was no mate for a brilliant woman like Lola. Hence disagreements soon manifested themselves. A specially serious one would seem to have arisen at Barcelona, for, says a letter from a mutual acquaintance, "the Countess and her husband had a warm discussion, which ended in an attempt by her to stab him. Mr. Heald, objecting to such a display of conjugal affection, promptly quitted the town."

Further particulars were supplied by another correspondent: "I saw Mr. Heald," says this authority. "He is a tall, thin young man, with a fair complexion, and often uses rouge to hide his pallor. Many pity him for what has happened. Others, however, pity the lovely Lola. Before he left this district, Mr. Heald called on the English Consul. 'I have come,' he said,'to ask your advice. Some of my friends here suggest that I should leave my wife. What ought I to do about it? If I stop with her, I am afraid of being assassinated or poisoned.' He then exhibited a garment covered with blood. The Consul replied: 'I am positively astonished that, after the attack of which you speak, you did not complain to the police, and that you have since lived with your wife on terms of intimacy. If you want to abandon her, you must do as you think best. I cannot advise you.'"

H.B.M. Consul, however, did stretch a point, since he (perhaps fearing further bloodshed) offered toviserthe applicant's passport for any other country. Thereupon, Mr. Heald betook himself to Mataro. But, becoming conscience-smitten, he promptly sat down and wrote an apologetic letter to the lady he left behind him, begging her forgiveness. "If you should ever have reason to complain of me again," he said, "this letter will always act as a talisman."

Apparently it had the effect, for Lola returned to her penitent spouse.

The Barcelona correspondent ofL'Assemblée Nationalemanaged to interview the Cornet.

"He says," announced this authority, "that others persuaded him to depart, against his real wishes. On rejoining him, Mrs. Heald was most indignant. Her eyes positively flashed fire; and, if she should chance to encounter the men who took her husband from her, I quite tremble to think what will happen!"

Something obviously did happen, for, according to de Mirecourt, "during their sojourn in Sunny Spain, the admirable English husband made his wife the gratified mother of two beautiful offspring." Parenthood, however, would appear to have had an odd effect upon this couple, for, continues de Mirecourt: "Mais, en dépit de ces gages d'amour, leur bonheur est troublé par des querelles intestines."

It was from Spain that, having adjusted their differences temporarily, the couple went back to Paris. As a peace offering, a rising young artist, Claudius Jacquand, was commissioned to paint both their portraits on a single canvas. During, however, another domestic rupture, Heald demanded that Lola's features should be painted out. "I want nothing," he said, "to remind me of that woman." Unfortunately, Lola had just made a similar demand where the Cornet was concerned. Jacquand was a man of talent, but he could not do impossibilities. Thereupon, Lola, breathing fire and fury, took the canvas away and hung it with its back to the front in her bedroom. "To allow my husband to watch me always would," she said, "be indelicate!"

There is a theory that, within the next twelve months, the ill-assorted union was dissolved by Heald getting upset in a rowing-boat and drowned in Lisbon harbour. The theory, however, is a little difficult to reconcile with the fact that, on the close of the Great Exhibition at the end of 1851, he attended an auction of the effects, where he bought a parquetfloor and had it laid down in his drawing-room at Berrymead Priory. After this he had a number of structural alterations added; fitted the windows with some stained glass, bearing his crest and initials; and, finally, did not give up the lease until 1855. Pretty good work, this, for a man said to have met with a watery grave six years earlier.

As a matter of strict fact, Cornet Heald was not drowned, either at Lisbon or anywhere else. He died in his bed at Folkestone, in 1856. The medical certificate attributed the cause of death to consumption. In theGentleman's Magazine, however, the diagnosis was different, viz., "broken heart."

All things pass. In 1859 the executors of the dashing Cornet sold the Berrymead property for £7000, to be repurchased soon afterwards for £23,000 by a land-development company. The house now serves as the premises of the Priory Constitutional Club, Acton. A certain amount of evidence of Cornet Heald's one-time occupancy still exists. Thus his crest and motto,Nemo sibi Nascitur, are let into the mosaic flooring of the hall, and the drawing-room ceiling is embellished with his initials picked out in gold.

otwithstanding the tie of alleged parenthood, domestic relations between them did not improve, and the couple soon parted. The knowledge that she was still "wanted" there kept Lola out of England. Instead, she went to Paris, where such unpleasantnesses as warrants could not touch her. There she was given a warm welcome, by old friends and new.

During this visit to Paris an unaccustomed set-back was experienced. She received it from Émile de Girardin, of whom she endeavoured to make a conquest. But this "wild-eyed, pale-faced man of letters," as she called him, would have none of her. Perhaps he remembered what had befallen Dujarier.

As was to be expected, the coming among them of Lola Montez attracted the attention of thecourrierists, who earned many welcome francs by filling columns with details of her career. What they did not know about it they invented. They knew very little. Thus, one such article (appropriately signed "Fantasio") read as follows:

"Madame Lola Montez, who is now happily returned to us, is the legitimate spouse of Sir Thomas James, an officer of the English Army. Milord Sir James loved to drink and the beautiful Lola loved to flirt. A wealthy Prince of Kabul was willing to possess her for her weight in gold and gems. Up till now, her principal love affairs have been with Don Enriquez, a Spaniard, Brûle-Tout, a well-developed French mariner, andJohn, a phlegmatic Englishman. One day Sir James bet that he could drink three bottles of brandy in twenty minutes. While he was thus occupied, the amorous Lola made love to three separate gallants.""It will doubtless," added a second, "be gratifying to her pride to queen it again in Paris, where she was once hissed off the stage. There she will at any rate now be received at the Bavarian Embassy, and exhibit the Order of Maria Theresa. She was invested with this to the considerable scandal of the Munich nobility, who cannot swallow the idea of such a distinction being bestowed on a dancer."

"It will doubtless," added a second, "be gratifying to her pride to queen it again in Paris, where she was once hissed off the stage. There she will at any rate now be received at the Bavarian Embassy, and exhibit the Order of Maria Theresa. She was invested with this to the considerable scandal of the Munich nobility, who cannot swallow the idea of such a distinction being bestowed on a dancer."

This sort of thing and a great deal more in a similar strain, was accepted as gospel by its readers. But for those who wished her ill, any lie was acceptable. Thus, although there was not a scrap of evidence to connect her with the incident, a paragraph, headed "Lola Again?" was published in the London papers:

Yesterday afternoon an extraordinary scene was witnessed by the promenaders in the Champs Elysées. Two fashionably attired ladies, driving in an elegant equipage, were heard to be employing language that was anything but refined. From words to blows, for suddenly they began to assault one another with vigorous smacks. The toilettes and faces of the fair contestants were soon damaged; and, loud cries of distress being uttered, the carriage was stopped, and, attracted by the fracas, some gentlemen hurried to render assistance. As a result of their interference, one of the damsels was expelled from the vehicle, and the other ordered the coachman to drive her to her hotel. This second lady is familiar to the public by reason of her adventures in Bavaria.

Albert Vandam, a singularly objectionable type of journalist, who professed to be on intimate terms with everybody in Paris worth knowing, has a number of offensive and unjustifiable allusions to Lola Montez at this period of hercareer. He talks of her "consummate impudence," of her "pot-house wit," and of her "grammatical errors," and dubs her, among other things, "this almost illiterate schemer."

"Lola Montez," says the egregious Vandam, "could not make friends." He was wrong. This was just what she could do. She made many staunch and warm-hearted friends. It was because she snubbed him on account of his pushfulness that Vandam elected to belittle her.

Lola Montez chose her friends for their disposition, not for their virtue. One of them was George Sand, "the possessor of the largest mind and the smallest foot in Paris." She also became intimate with Alphonsine Plessis, and constantly visited the future "Lady of the Camelias" in herappartementon the Boulevard de la Madeleine. Anotherhabituéthere at this period was Lola's old Dresden flame, the Abbé Liszt, who, not confining his attentions to the romanticists, had no compunction about poaching on the preserves of Dumasfils, or, for that matter, of anybody else. As for the fair, but frail, Alphonsine, she said quite candidly that she was "perfectly willing to become his mistress, if he wanted it, but was not prepared to share the position." As Liszt had other ideas on the subject, the suggestion came to nothing.

Some years afterwards, one of his pupils, an American young woman, Amy Fay, took his measure in a book,Music-study in Germany:

"Liszt," she wrote, "is the most interesting and striking-looking man imaginable. Tall and slight, with deep-set eyes, shaggy eyebrows and long iron-grey hair which he wears parted in the middle. His mouth turns up at the corners, which gives him a most crafty and Mephistophelean expression when he smiles, and his whole appearance and manner have a sort of Jesuitical elegance and ease."

Before she set out on this journey, Lola wrote to an acquaintance: "What makes men and women distinguished is their individuality; and it is for that I will conquer or die!" Of this quality, she had enough and to spare. Her Paris lifewas hectic; or, as the Boulevardiers put it,elle faisait la bombe.

Among the tit-bits of gossip served up by a reporter was the following:

"Lola is constantly giving tea-parties in her Paris flat. A gentleman who is frequently bidden to them tells us that her masculine guests are restricted to such as have left their wives, and that the feminine guests consist of ladies who have left their husbands."

An Englishman whom she met at this time was Savile Morton, a friend of Thackeray and Tennyson. One night when she was giving a supper-party, a fellow-guest, Roger de Beauvoir, happened to read to the company some verses he had written. The hostess, on the grounds of their alleged "coarseness," complained to Morton that she had been insulted. As a result, Morton, being head over ears in love with her, sent de Beauvoir a challenge. Lola, however, having had enough of duels, took care that nothing should come of it; and insisted that an apology should be given and accepted.

At one time she was optimistic enough to take a villa at Beaujon on a fifteen years' lease, and had it refurnished in sumptuous fashion on credit. The first two instalments of the rent were met. When, however, the landlord called to collect the third one, he was put off with the excuse that: "Mr. Heald was away and had forgotten to send the money, but would be back in a week." This story might have been accepted, had not the landlord discovered that his tenant was planning to leave surreptitiously and that some of the furniture had already been removed. As a result, a body of indignant tradesmen, accompanied by the Maire of the district, in tricoloured sash and wand of office complete, betook themselves to the villa and demanded a settlement of accounts for goods delivered. This time they were told that the money had arrived, but that the key of the box in which it had been deposited for safety was lost. Assuring them that she would fetch a locksmith, Lola slipped out of the house, and, steppinginto a waiting cab, drove off to a new address near the Étoile. This was the last that the creditors saw of her.

In January, 1851, Lola, setting an example that has since then become much more common among theatrical ladies, compiled her "memoirs." When the editor ofLe Paysundertook to publish them in his columns, a rival editor, jealous of the "scoop," referred to their author as "Madame James, once Madame Heald, formerly Mlle Lola Montez, and for nearly a quarter of an hour the Countess of Landsfeld."

The work was dedicated to her old patron, King Ludwig, with a floridavant-propos:

Sire: In publishing my memoirs, my purpose is to reveal to a world still engulfed in a vulgar materialism Your Majesty's lofty thoughts about art, poetry, and philosophy. The inspiration of this book, Sire, is due to yourself, and to those other remarkable men whom Fortune—always the protector of my younger years—has given me as councillors and friends.

Lola must have written with more candour than tact. At any rate, after the first three chapters had appeared, the editor ofLe Pays, on the grounds that they would "shock his purer readers," refused to continue the series. "We positively decline," he announced, "to sully our columns further."

Authorship having thus proved a failure, Lola, swallowing her disappointment, directed her thoughts to her old love, the ballet. To this end, she placed herself in the hands of a M. Roux; and, a number of engagements having been secured by him, she began a provincial tour at Bordeaux. By the time it was completed the star and her manager were on such bad terms that, when they got back to Paris, the latter was dismissed. Thereupon, he hurried off to a notary, and brought an action against his employer, claiming heavy damages.

According to Maître Desmaret, his client, M. Roux, had been engaged in the capacity ofpilote intermédiareduring a prospective tour in Europe and America. For his services he was to have 25 per cent of the box-office receipts. On this understanding he had accompanied his principal to a number of towns. He then returned to Paris; and while he was negotiating there for the defendant's appearance at the Vaudeville, he suddenly discovered that she was planning to go to America without him. As a result, he was now claiming damages for breach of contract. These he laid at the modest figure of 10,000 francs.

M. Blot-Lequesne, on behalf of Lola Montez, had a somewhat different story to tell. The plaintiff himself, he declared, wanted to get out of the contract and had deliberately disregarded its terms. His client, he said, had authorised him to accept an engagement for her to dance six times a week; but, in his anxiety to make additional profit for himself, he had compelled her to dance six times a day. Apart from this, he had "signally failed to respect her dignity as a woman, and had invented ridiculous stories about her career." He had even done worse, for, "without her knowledge or sanction, he had compiled and distributed among the audiences where she appeared an utterly preposterous biography of his employer." This, among other matters, asserted that she had "lived and danced for eleven years in China and Persia; and that she had been befriended by the dusky King of Nepaul, as well as by numerous rajahs."

The concluding passage from this effort was read to the judge:

"Ten substantial volumes would be filled with the chronicle of the eccentricities of Mlle Lola Montez, and much of them would still be left unsaid. In the year 1847 a great English lord married her in London. Unfortunately, they found themselves not in sympathy, and in 1850 she returned to the dreams of her spring-time. The Countess has now completed one half of her projected tour. In November she leaves France forAmerica and—well—God only knows what will happen then!"

A "Belle of the Boulevards." Lola Montez in ParisA "Belle of the Boulevards." Lola Montez in Paris

"As long," said counsel, "as the amiable Mlle Montez was treated by M. Roux like a wild animal exhibited at a country fair, she merely shrugged her shoulders in disgust. When, however, she saw how this abominable pamphlet lifted the curtain from her private life, it was another thing altogether. She expressed womanly indignation, and made a spirited response."

"What was that?" enquired the judge, with interest.

"She said: 'It is lucky for you, sir, that my husband is not here to protect me. If he were, he would certainly pull your nose!'"

As was inevitable, this expression of opinion shattered theentente, and the manager returned to Paris by himself. Hearing nothing from him, Lola Montez thought that she was at liberty to make her own plans, and had accordingly arranged the American tour without his help.

On November 6, 1851, continued counsel, Lola Montez arrived in Paris, telling M. Roux that she would leave for America on November 20, but that she would fulfil any engagement he secured during the interval. Just before she was ready to start he said he had got her one, but he would not tell her where it was or produce any written contract.

Accepting this version as the correct one, the Court pronounced judgment in favour of Lola Montez.

M. Roux having thus been dismissed with a flea in his ear, Lola, on the advice of Peter Goodrich, the American consul in Paris, next engaged Richard Storrs Willis (a brother of N. P. Willis, the American poet) to look after her business affairs, and left Europe for America. As the good shipHumbolt, by which she was sailing, warped into harbour at New York, a salute of twenty-one guns thundered from the Battery. Lola, mightily pleased, took this expenditure of ammunition as atribute to herself. When, however, she discovered that it was really to herald the coming of Louis Kossuth, who also happened to be on board, she registered annoyance and retired to her cabin, to nurse her wrath. A Magyar patriot to be more honoured than an English ex-favourite of a King! What next?

"A gentleman travelling with her informed our representative," said theNew York Herald, "that Madame had declared Kossuth to be a great humbug. The Countess was a prodigious favourite among the masculine passengers during the voyage, and continually kept them in roars of laughter."

But, if disappointed in one respect, Lola derived a measure of compensation from the fact that the bevy of reporters who met the vessel found her much more interesting than the stranger from Hungary.

"Madame Lola Montez," remarked one of them, who had gone off with a bulging note-book, crammed with enough "copy" to fill a column, "says that a number of shocking falsehoods about her have been published in our journals. Yet she insists she is not the woman she is credited (or discredited) with being. If she were, her admirers, she thinks, would be still more plentiful than they are. She expresses herself as fearful that she will not have proper consideration in New York; but she trusts that the great American public will suspend judgment until they have made her acquaintance."

"The Countess of Landsfeld, who is now among us," adds a second scribe, "owes more to the brilliancy of intellect with which Heaven has gifted her than to her world-wide celebrity as an artiste. Her person and bearing are unmistakably aristocratic. If we may credit the stories which from time to time have reached us, she can, if necessary, use her riding-whip in vigorous fashion about the ears of any offending biped or quadruped. In America she is somewhat out of her latitude. Paris should be her real home."

For the present, however, Lola decided to stop where she was.

While she was in America on this tour, Barnum wanted tobe her impresario, and promised "special terms." Despite, however, the lure of "having her path garlanded with flowers and her carriage drawn by human hands from hotel to theatre," the offer was not accepted.

The New York début of Lola Montez was made on December 29, 1851, in a ballet:Betly, the Tyrolean. Public excitement ran high, for appetites had been whetted by the sensational accounts of her "past" with which the papers were filled.

"Scandal does not necessarily create a great dancer," declared one rigid critic; and a second had a long column, headed: "MONTEZv.RESPECTABILITY," in which he observed (thoughtfully supplying a translation): "ParturiuntMONTEZ,nascitur ridiculus mus." All the same, the box-office reported record business. As a result, prices were doubled, and the seats put up to auction.

If she had her enemies in the press, Lola also had her champions there. Just before she arrived, one of them, a New York paper, took up the cudgels on her behalf in vigorous fashion:

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