Shortly afterwards, there was trouble with another representative of the press. This was with one Henley Shipley, the editor of the Marysville Herald, who, notwithstanding that they were "regularly attended by the élite of the camp," had described her "Wednesday soirées" as "disgraceful orgies, inimical to our fair repute." Thereupon, says a sympathiser, the aspersed hostess "took her whip to him, and handed out a number of stinging and well merited cuts."
The opportunity being too good to miss, the editor of the Sacramento Union set to work and rushed out a special edition, with a long description of the incident: This forenoon our town was plunged into a state of ludicrous excitement by the spectacle of Madame Lola Montez rushing through Mill Street, with a lady's delicate riding whip in one hand and a copy of the Marysville Herald in the other, vowing vengeance on "that scoundrel of an editor," etc. She met him at the Golden Gate Saloon, a crowd, on the qui vive, following in her footsteps. Having struck at him with her whip, she then applied woman's best weapon--her tongue. Meanwhile, her antagonist kept most insultingly cool. All her endeavours being powerless, the "Divine Lola" appealed to the miners, but the only response was a burst of laughter. Mr. Shipley, the editor, then retired in triumph, having, by his calmness, completely worn down his fair enemy.
The immediate cause of the fracas was the appearance of sundry articles, copied from the New York Times, referring to the "Lola Montez-like insolence, bare-faced hypocrisy, and effrontery of Queen Christina of Spain." The entire scene was decidedly rich.
One can well imagine it.
Never prepared to accept hostile criticism without a protest, Lola sent her own version of the occurrence to a rival organ: "This morning, November 21," she wrote, "the newspaper was handed me as usual. I scanned it over with little interest, saw a couple of abusive articles, not mentioning me by name, but, as I was afterwards told, had been prepared by the clever pen of this great statesman of the future, and present able writer, as a climax and extinguisher to all the past and future glories of Lola Montez. I wonder if he thought I should come down with a cool thousand or two, to stock up his fortune and cry 'Grace, Grace!'
"This is the only attempt at blackmail I have been subjected to in California, and I hope it will be the last. On I read the paper till I saw my name in good round English, and the allusions to my 'bare-faced hypocrisy and insolence.' Europe, hear this! Has not the 'hypocrisy' been on the other side? What were you thinking of, Alexandra Dumas, Beringer, Méry, and all my friends when you told me my fault lay in my too great kindness? Shipley has judged me at last to be a hypocrite. To avenge you, I, bonnet on head and whip in hand--that whip which was never used but on a horse--this time to be disgraced by falling on the back of an ASS.... The spirit of my Irish ancestors (I being three-quarter Irish and Spanish and Scotch) took possession of my hand; and, on the most approved Tom Sayers principles, I took his, on which--thanks to some rings I had--I made a cutting impression. This would-be great smiter ended the combat with a certain amount of abuse, of which--to do him justice--he is a perfect master. Sic transit gloria SHIPLEY! Alas, poor Yorick!"