A French newspaper owner died in a duel for her and bequeathed her his estate. A king, besotted with her, granted her land, money, a stately home and title at the cost of his kingdom.
Lola Montez was never careful with money. When she lost those fortunes, she returned to dancing to pay her way.
In February 1856 Lola commenced a season performing at the Victoria Theatre in Ballarat. Because of gold, Ballarat was then one of the world’s wealthiest cities. In 1856 alone, nearly four million pounds worth of gold was extracted.
Lola’s premier piece was the Spider Dance in which she jiggled and wiggled imaginary tarantulas out of her costume, progressively raising her skirt just high enough to show the predominantly male audience whether she was wearing undergarments. Seats for her shows were booked solid. Miners had little to do with their earnings, many payments were made by gold nugget.
To earn promotional publicity for her shows, Lola offered hospitality to Henry Seekamp, the owner of the Ballarat Times. “He received my hospitality. You all know Mr. Seekamp is a little fond of drinking. His wife is obliged to do his duty while he goes out drinking. …while he was at my house the sherry, and port, and champagne were never off the table. He ate with me, he drank with me, and it was only my respect for him that prevented his being kicked out of the theatre when he was not in a fit state to remain in society.”
Whether deliberately of otherwise, Seekamp published a reader’s letter in the Times reviewing Lola’s performance. “We …denounce… the performances in which, that lady last evening figured. We do not intend to enter into details. The crowded attendance at the theatre will understand our motive for not doing so. Theatre management…has no right to insult respectable ladies by inviting their attendance.”
On Tuesday 19 February 1856, Lola won a riding whip in a raffle at the Star Concert Hall. She was no stranger to the use of whips to deter her detractors. In Munich she was often seen walking in the streets with one. In Warsaw, she spent 14 days in prison for striking a gendarme with a whip. She claimed he insulted her.
Now Lola was incensed at this apparent betrayal by Seekamp. She marched into the United States Hotel where Seekamp was drinking at the bar and applied her whip to his head and shoulders. As soon as he recovered himself from the surprise of the attack, Seekamp used his own riding whip in return and the combat raged with ferocity.
“How dare you attack me in your paper? ” “Will you abuse me again?” “Will you attack a woman?” She followed up each question with sundry sharp and cutting strokes from the switch that left marks on Seekamp’s face. His whip was heavy and struck Lola across the shoulders repeatedly, till thinking the game unequal, he swung a blow at her face with his fist. This was parried by someone standing-by who took the editor’s head under his arm in a lock.
A considerable crowd had collected and the bar was nearly filled. Both contestants had lost their whips, and on Seekamp being let go, he slipped through the crowd and again made for Lola. He seized her by the hair and dress, she seized his hair in return. The crowd interfered this time, seizing Seekamp, hooting, hissing and throwing oranges, apples, and other missiles at him. He retaliated with gestures and expressions of strong contempt but which unfortunately drew similar, stronger, responses in return. Amid the jeers and yells of the crowd, Seekamp retired to the Charles Napier hotel while Lola shook her whip at him in defiance and contempt from the window of the United States.
A reluctance to accept criticism seems a common failing on the goldfields. Lola was involved in a similar fracas shortly after when she made derogatory remark to her promoter, Mr Crosby, regarding her share of the theatre takings. Crosby’s wife immediately attacked Lola with a heavy whip, which she broke in the struggle. Seizing madame by the hair, Mrs Crosby beating her unmercifully about the head and neck, so much so that it rendered Lola totally unable to appear on the stage. The sole spectator, Mr Crosby, did not call foul play as his wife was getting the best of it.
Age, Melbourne, Saturday 23 February 1856