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."
"Lectures and Life." From stage to platform
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.