Read Ebook: The Magnificent Montez: From Courtesan to Convert by Wyndham Horace

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 1828 lines and 95676 words, and 37 pages

ded. Hardened bachelor as he was, a single glance at Lola's portrait was enough to send his blood-pressure up to fever heat. In positive rapture at the idea of such fresh young loveliness becoming his, he declared himself ready to change his condition, and discussed handsome settlements.

With everything thus cut and dried, as she considered, Mrs. Craigie took the next step in her programme. This was to leave India for England, during the autumn of 1836, and tell Lola of the "good news" in store for her. She was then to bring her back to Calcutta and the expectant arms of Sir Abraham.

Honest Captain Craigie looked a little dubious when he was consulted.

"Perhaps she won't care about him," he suggested.

"Fiddlesticks!" retorted his wife. "Any girl would jump at the chance of being Lady Lumley. Think of the position."

"I'm thinking of Lola," he said.

"MARRIED IN HASTE"

Among the passengers accompanying Mrs. Craigie on the long voyage to Southampton was a Lieutenant Thomas James, a debonair young officer of the Bengal Infantry, who made himself very agreeable to her and with whom he exchanged many confidences. He was going home on a year's sick leave; and at the suggestion of his ship-board acquaintance he decided to spend the first month of it in Bath.

"It's time I settled down," he said. "Who knows, but I might pick up a wife in Bath and take her back to India with me."

"Who knows," agreed Mrs. Craigie, her match-making instincts aroused. "Bath is full of pretty girls."

The meeting between mother and daughter developed very differently from the lines on which she had planned it. Contrary to what she had expected, Lola did not evince any marked readiness to fall in with them. Quite undazzled by the prospects of becoming Lady Lumley, and reclining on Sir Abraham's elderly bosom, she even went so far as to dub the learned judge a "gouty old rascal," and declared that nothing would induce her to marry him. Neither reproaches nor arguments had any effect. Nor would she exhibit the smallest interest in the trousseau for which lavish orders had been given.

Poor Mrs. Craigie could scarcely believe her ears. For a daughter to run counter to the wishes of her mother, and to snap her fingers at the chance of marrying a "title," was something she had considered impossible. What on earth were girls coming to, she wondered. Either the Paris "finishing school" or the Bath air had gone to her head. The times were out of joint, and the theory that daughters did what they were told was being rudely upset. It was all very disturbing.

In her astonishment and annoyance, Mrs. Craigie took to her bed. However, she did not stop there long, for prompt measures had to be adopted. As it was useless to tackle Sir Jasper Nicolls she sought counsel of somebody else. This was her military friend, who, as luck would have it, was still lingering in Bath, where he had evidently discovered some special attraction. After all, he was a "man of the world" and would know what to do. Accordingly, she summoned him to a consultation, and unburdened her mind on the subject of Lola's "oddness."

"Of course, the girl's mad," she declared. "Nothing else would account for it. Can you imagine any girl in her senses turning up her nose at such a match? I never heard such rubbish. I'm sure I don't know what Sir Abraham will say. He expects her to join him in Calcutta by the end of the year. As a matter of fact, I've already booked her passage. The wedding is to be from our house there. Something will have to be done. The question is, what?"

"Leave it to me," was the airy response. "I'll talk to her."

Thomas James did "talk." He talked to some effect, but not at all in the fashion Mrs. Craigie had intended. Expressing sympathy with Lola, he declared himself entirely on her side. She was much too young and pretty and attractive, he said, to dream for an instant of marrying a man who was old enough to be her grandfather, and bury herself in India. The idea was ridiculous. He had a much better plan to offer. When Lola, smiling through her tears, asked him what it was, he said that she must run away with him and they would get married. Thus the problem of her future would be solved automatically.

The luxuriant whiskers and dashing air of Lieutenant Thomas James did their work. Further, the suggestion was just the sort of thing that happened to heroines in novels. Lola Gilbert, young and romantic and inexperienced, succumbed. Watching her opportunity, she slipped out of the house early the next morning. Her lover had a post-chaise in readiness, and they set off in it for Bristol. There they took the packet and crossed over to Ireland, where James had relatives, who, he promised, would look after her until their marriage should be accomplished.

"Elopement in High Life!" A tit-bit of gossip for the tea-tables and for the bucks at the clubs. No longer a sleepy hollow. Bath was in the "news."

It was not until they were gone that Mrs. Craigie discovered what had happened. Her first reaction was one of furious indignation. This, however, was natural, for not only had her ambitious project gone astray, but she had been deceived by the very man she had trusted. It was more than enough to upset anybody, especially as she was also confronted with the unpleasant task of writing to Sir Abraham Lumley, and telling him what had happened. As a result, she announced that she would "wash her hands" of the pair of them.

While it was one thing to run away, it was, as Lola soon discovered, another thing to get married. An unexpected difficulty presented itself, as the parish priest whom they consulted refused to perform the ceremony for so young a girl without being first assured of her mother's consent. Mrs. Craigie, erupting tears and threats, declined to give it. Thereupon, James's married sister, Mrs. Watson, sprang into the breach and pointed out that "things have gone so far that it is now too late to draw back, if scandal is to be avoided." The argument was effective; and, a reluctant consent having been secured, on July 23, 1837, the "position was regularised" by the bridegroom's brother, the Rev. John James, vicar of Rathbiggon, County Meath. "Thomas James, bachelor, Lieutenant, 21st Bengal Native Infantry, and Rose Anna Gilbert, condition, spinster," was the entry on the certificate.

After a short honeymoon in Dublin, first at the Shamrock Hotel, and then in rather squalid lodgings , Lola was taken back to her husband's relatives. They lived in a dull Irish village on the edge of a peat bog, where the young bride found existence very boring. Then, too, when the glamour of the elopement had dimmed, it was obvious that her action in running away from Bath had been precipitate. Thomas, for all his luxuriant whiskers and dash, was, she reflected sadly, "nothing but the outside shell of a man, with neither a brain that she could respect nor a heart she could love." A sorry awakening from the dreams in which she had indulged. As a matter of fact, they had nothing in common. The husband, who was sixteen years his wife's senior, cared for little but hunting and drinking, and Lola's tastes were mainly for dancing and flirting.

It was in Dublin, where, much to her satisfaction, her spouse was ordered on temporary duty, that she discovered a ready outlet for these activities.

"Dear dirty Dublin" was, to Lola's way of thinking, a vast improvement on Rathbiggon. At any rate, there was "society," smart young officers and rising politicians, instead of clodhopping squireens and village boors, to talk to, and shops where the new fashions could be examined, and theatres with real London actors and actresses. If only she had had a little money to spend, she would have been perfectly happy. But Tom James had nothing beyond his pay, which scarcely kept him in cheroots and car fares. Still, this did not prevent him running up debts.

The Lord Lieutenant of Ireland at that period was the Earl of Mulgrave , afterwards Marquess of Normanby. A great admirer of pretty women, and fond of exercising the Viceregal privilege of kissing attractive d?butantes, the drawing-rooms at the Castle were popular functions under his regime. He showed young Mrs. James much attention. The aides-de-camp, prominent among whom were Bernal Osborne and Francis Sheridan, followed the example thus set them by their chief; and tickets for balls and concerts and dinner-parties and drums and routs were showered upon her.

Thinking that these compliments and attentions were being overdone, Lieutenant James took them amiss and elected to become jealous. He talked darkly of "calling out" one of his wife's admirers. But before there could be any early morning pistol-play in the Phoenix Park, an unexpected solution offered itself. Trouble was suddenly threatened on the Afghan frontier; and, in the summer of 1837, all officers on leave from India were ordered to rejoin their regiments. Welcoming the prospect of thus renewing her acquaintance with a country of which she still had pleasant memories, Lola set to work to pack her trunks.

If she had followed the advice of a certain "travellers' handbook," written by Miss Emma Roberts, that was then very popular, she must have had a considerable amount of baggage. Thus, according to this authority, the "List of Necessaries for a Lady on a Voyage from England to India" included, among other items, the following articles: "72 chemises; 36 nightcaps; 70 pocket-handkerchiefs; 30 pairs of drawers ; 15 petticoats; 60 pairs of stockings; 45 pairs of gloves; at least 20 dresses of different texture; 12 shawls and parasols; and 3 bonnets and 15 morning caps, together with biscuits and preserves at discretion, and a dozen boxes of aperient pills." Nothing omitted. Provision for all contingencies.

A helpful hint furnished by Miss Roberts was that "A lady on ship-board, spruced up for the Park or the Opera, would only be an object of ridicule to her experienced companions. Frippery which would be discarded in England is often useful in India. Members of my sex," she adds, "who have to study economy, can always secure bargains by acquiring at small cost items of fashion which, while outmoded in London, will be new enough by the time they reach Calcutta."

A lady with such sound views on managing the domestic budget as Miss Emma Roberts should not have remained long in single blessedness.

Those were not the days of ocean greyhounds, covering the distance between England and India in a couple of weeks. Nor was there then any Suez Canal route to shorten the long miles that had to be traversed. Thus, when Lola and her spouse embarked from England in an East Indiaman, the voyage took nearly five months to accomplish, with calls at Madeira, St. Helena, and the Cape, before the welcome cry, "Land Ahead!" was heard and anchor was dropped at Calcutta.

Lola's first acquaintance with India's coral strand had been made as a child of five. Now she was returning as a married woman. Yet she was scarcely eighteen. She did not stop in Calcutta long, for her husband's regiment was in the Punjaub, and a peremptory message from the brigadier required him to rejoin as soon as possible. It was at Kurnaul that Lola began her experience of garrison life. Among the other officers she met there was a young subaltern of the Bengal Artillery, who, in the years to come, was to make a name for himself as "Lawrence of Lucknow."

The year 1838 was, for both the Company's troops and the Queen's Army, an eventful one where India was concerned. During the spring Lord Auckland, the newly-appointed Governor-General, hatched the foolish and ill-conceived policy which led to the first Afghan war. His idea was, with the help of Brown Bess and British bayonets, to replace Dost Muhammed, who had sat on the throne there for twenty years without giving any real trouble, by an incompetent upstart of his own nomination, Shah Shuja.

Lieutenant James's regiment, the 21st Bengal Native Infantry, was among those selected to join the expeditionary force appointed to "uphold the prestige of the British Raj"; and, as was the custom at that time, Lola, mounted on an elephant , and followed by a train of baggage camels and a pack of foxhounds complete, accompanied her husband to the frontier. The other ladies included Mrs. McNaghten and Mrs. Robert Sale and the Governor-General's two daughters. It is just possible that Macaulay had a glimpse of Lola, for a contemporary letter says that "he turned out to wish the party farewell."

The "Army of the Indus" was given a good send off by a loyal native prince, Ranjeet Singh , who, on their march up country, entertained the column in a rest-camp at Lahore with "showy pageants and gay doings," among which were nautch dances, cock-fights, and theatricals. He meant well, no doubt, but he contrived to upset a chaplain, who declared himself shocked that a "bevy of dancing prostitutes should appear in the presence of the ladies of the family of a British Governor-General." Judging from a luscious account that Lola gives of a big durbar, to which all the officers and their wives were bidden, these strictures were not unjustifiable. Thus, after Lord Auckland and his host had delivered patriotic speeches gifts were distributed among the assembled company. Some of these were of an embarrassing description, since they took the form of "beautiful Circassian slave maidens, covered with very little beyond precious gems." To the obvious annoyance, however, of a number of prospective recipients, "the Rajah was officially informed that English custom and military regulations alike did not permit Her Majesty's warriors to accept such tokens of goodwill."

But, if they could not receive them, the guests had to make presents in turn, and Ranjeet Singh for his part had no qualms about accepting them. With true Oriental politeness, and "without moving a muscle," he registered rapture at a "miscellaneous collection of imitation gold and silver trinkets and rusty old pistols offered him on behalf of the Honourable East India Company."

In a letter from Lord Auckland's military secretary, the Hon. William Osborne, there is an account of these doings at Lahore:

Ranjeet has entertained us all most handsomely. No one in the camp is allowed to purchase a single thing; and a list is sent round twice a week in which you put down just what you require, and it is furnished at his expense. It costs him 25,000 rupees a day. Nothing could exceed his liberality and friendship during the whole of the Governor-General's visit.

A second durbar, held at Simla, was accompanied by much florid imagery, all of which had to be interpreted for the benefit of Lord Auckland. "It took a quarter of an hour," says his sister, "to satisfy him about the Maharajah's health, and to ascertain that the roses had bloomed in the garden of friendship, and the nightingales had sung in the bowers of affection sweeter than ever since the two Powers had approached each other."

The Afghan campaign, as ill conceived as it was ill carried out, followed its appointed course. That is to say, it was punctuated by "regrettable incidents" and quarrels among the generals ; and, with the Afghans living to fight another day, a "success for British arms" was announced. Thereupon, the column returned to India, bands playing, elephants trumpeting a salute, and guns thundering a welcome. "The war," declared His Excellency in an official despatch, "is all over." Unfortunately, however, it was all over Afghanistan, with the result that there had to be another campaign in the following year. This time, not even Lord Auckland's imagination could call it "successful."

"There will be a great deal of prize money," was the complacent fashion in which Miss Eden summed up the situation. "Another man has been put on the Khelat throne, so that business is finished." But it was not finished. It was only just beginning. "Within six months," says Edward Thompson, "Khelat was recaptured by a son of the slain Khan, Lord Auckland's puppet ejected, and the English commander of the garrison murdered."

Although the expedition that followed was the subject of a highly eulogistic despatch from the Commander-in-Chief and the big-wigs at headquarters, a number of "regrettable incidents" were officially admitted. As a result, a regiment of Light Cavalry was disbanded, "as a punishment for poltroonery in the hour of trial and the dastards struck off the Army List."

Later on, when Lord Ellenborough was Governor-General, a bombastic memorandum, addressed "To all the Princes and Chiefs and People of India," was issued by him:

"Our victorious army bears the gates of the Temple of Somnauth in triumph from Afghanistan, and the despoiled tomb of Sultan Mahmood looks down upon the ruins of Ghuznee. The insult of 800 years is at last avenged!

"To you I shall commit this glorious trophy of successful war. You will yourselves with all honour transmit the gates of sandalwood to the restored Temple of Somnauth.

"May that good Providence, which has hitherto so manifestly protected me, still extend to me its favour, that I may so use the power entrusted to my hands to advance your prosperity and happiness by placing the union of our two countries upon foundations that may render it eternal."

There was a good deal more in a similar style, for his lordship loved composing florid despatches. But this one had a bad reception when it was sent home to England. "At this puerile piece of business," says the plain spoken Stocqueler, "the commonsense of the British community at large revolted. The ministers of religion protested against it as a most unpardonable homage to an idolatrous temple. Ridiculed by the Press of India and England, and laughed at by the members of his own party in Parliament, Lord Ellenborough halted the gates at Agra, and postponed the completion of the monstrous folly he had more than begun to perpetrate."

Severe as was this criticism, it was not unmerited. Ellenborough's theatrical bombast, like that of Napoleon at the Pyramids, recoiled upon him, bringing a hornets' nest about his own ears and leading to his recall. As a matter of fact, too, the gates which he held in such reverence were found to be replicas of the pair that the Sultan Mahmood had pilfered from Somnauth; and were not of sandalwood at all, but of common deal.

While following the drum from camp to camp and from station to station, Lola spent several months in Bareilly, a town that was afterwards to play an important part in the Mutiny. Colonel Durand, an officer who was present when the city was captured in 1858, says that the bungalow she occupied there was destroyed. Yet, the mutineers, he noticed, had spared the bath house that had been built for her in the compound.

During the hot weather of 1839, young Mrs. James, accompanied by her husband, went off to Simla for a month on a visit to her mother, who, yielding to pressure, had at last held out the olive-branch. The welcome, however--except from Captain Craigie, who still had a warm corner in his heart for her--was somewhat frigid.

Simla is much moved just now by the arrival of a Mrs. J, who has been talked of as a great beauty all the year, and that drives every other woman quite distracted.... Mrs. J is the daughter of a Mrs. C, who is still very handsome herself, and whose husband is deputy-adjutant-general, or some military authority of that kind. She sent this only child to be educated at home, and went home herself two years ago to see her. In the same ship was Mr. J, a poor ensign, going home on sick leave. He told her he was engaged to be married, consulted her about his prospects, and in the meantime privately married this child at school. It was enough to provoke any mother; but, as it now cannot be helped, we have all been trying to persuade her for the last year to make it up. She has withstood it till now, but at last has consented to ask them for a month, and they arrived three days ago.

During this visit to Simla the couple were duly bidden to dine at Auckland House, on Elysium Hill, where they met His Excellency.

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet