Bruce Seymour

5528. Lola Montez A Life, by Bruce Seymour (read 28 Jan 2018) The subject of this seemingly carefully-researched biography is a gravely flawed woman born in Ireland in 1820 who married at least three times and in 1843 infatuated King Ludwig I of Bavaria to such an extent that he abdicated his throne in 1849 after spending huge amounts on her which she wasted as fast as she got the money. It is an amazing story and one stands in wonder how a sixty-year-old king could be so besotted as to be taken in so long by her lies. The book does not enthrall since it is so detailed and hard-to-believe. After she left Bavaria she came to the United States and made a lot of money as a dancer , But was always seeking more money. She spent time in Australia and eventually did a lot of lectures, apparently successfully, in the United States. She died in 1861 and is buried in Brooklyn. The book is not a bad book but I felt that I was wasting my time reading so much about such a shallow, mendacious, and minor historical figure.… (meer)

Sort of a Horatio Alger story, assuming that he’d written a story about somebody female and not particularly imbued with contemporary morality. Eliza Gilbert was the illegitimate (although her parents did marry later) daughter of an Irish milliner’s assistant and an ensign in the British army. Her father was posted to India when she was two (maybe; Eliza was a dubious authority on autobiographical details) and had the temerity to drop dead of cholera the day he reported to his regiment. Mrs. Gilbert managed as best she could, eventually sending her daughter back to England for schooling. At some point or another the Miss Gilbert balked at her future prospects as an impoverished young lady, traveled to Spain, took a few language and dancing lessons, and returned to the London stage as Lola Montez, widow of a Spanish nobleman, who had taken up exotic dancing (such as it existed in 1843) to make ends meet. Most stage dancers of the time were trained in classical ballet, with no previous experience Lola had no chance of competing in that area. Instead she developed her signature “Spider Dance”, which supposedly imitated the reaction of a well-dressed Spanish lady to a tarantula running up her skirts. There being no motion pictures at the time, it’s not clear what went on in the “Spider Dance”, but male audiences were enthusiastic. Lola took her show on the road, traveling to Paris, St. Petersburg, Berlin, and eventually ending up in Munich, where she captured the heart of King Ludwig of Bavaria (this is not “Mad King Ludwig”, although people must have wondered at the time). Ludwig, years Lola’s senior, had given no previous indication of being anything but an upright family man but now went a little dingbats. He made Lola a countess, showered her with presents, and wrote long and embarrassing letters in which he detailed how much he enjoyed taking Lola’s unwashed feet in his mouth. (He took Lola’s claim of being a Spanish noblewomen at face value and wrote in Spanish; she replied in the same language, which was interesting because neither one was fluent). Eventually the Bavarians got fed up with all this, days of street riots broke out, Ludwig abdicated and Lola fled the country. (Interestingly enough, just a little less than 100 years later Edward VIII of England had to abdicate when he became involved with a foreign adventuress, and like Ludwig and Lola part of Edward’s fascination with Wallace Simpson was her enthusiastic accommodation of his foot fetish. What is it with royalty, anyway?).


Lola washed up in the United States, did a little dancing, and ended up in the tiny town of Grass Valley, California. This was an odd episode in Lola’s life; she had acquired a reputation as a histrionic diva, horsewhipping policemen, pulling a gun on people who were rude to her on the street, and once, when enraged Bavarians threw horse manure at her as she stood on the balcony of her Munich house, she caught it, put on a juggling exhibition, and threw it back. The residents of Grass Valley, however, were unanimous in their praise of Lola. She tended the sick, babysat neighbor’s children, took in stray animals, and generally behaved like a saint. Which was the real Lola, I wonder? Alas, the retired life eventually bored her, and she set out on yet another tour, visiting Australia and returning to the US to take her act to the Midwest and East Coast. By now, the “Spider Dance” had become a little too strenuous for her, and she did more stage acting and gave a series of highly regarded lectures on world politics, the role of women in society, and beauty tips (her book on the subject is still in print). In June, 1860, while living in New York City and planning another tour, she had a stroke; doctors said she wouldn’t live out the day. But whatever Lola’s faults, she was tough; she improved and was even able to get up and walk a little by December. Unfortunately a stroll in the winter air was too much for her, she caught pneumonia, and died at the age of 40 in January 1861. Her grave is in Brooklyn, as “Mrs. Eliza Gilbert.”


Quite an enjoyable book about a fascinating person.. Author Bruce Seymour had a difficult job in piecing Lola’s life together; she was notorious for not being especially honest when writing about herself, and her contemporary critics weren’t especially honest when writing about her, either. It’s a smooth narrative and manages to be funny and sad simultaneously. I suspect Seymour found himself a little in love with Lola; I would have liked to meet the lady myself.


Added later: Corrected Edward VII to Edward VIII.… (meer)