III
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 the Standard:
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, of being 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 of The Black Book of the British Aristocracy was 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."
The Satirist, 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 them worse than 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 the Globe, "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," declared John 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, alias the 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 decree a 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 warrant for 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 all causes 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 still sub judice, the Observer offered its readers some severe comments:
"The Helen of the age is most assuredly Lola Montez, alias Betsy James, alias the Gräfin von Lansfelt, alias Mrs. 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 so disgustingly 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)
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."