Lily Langtry passes through town
Two simple notices, published a week apart in late June 1884 in
the Gilroy Advocate, were all the locals knew of a world-famous
phenomenon who passed through the town’s rail station, on her way
to Monterey. Although meriting a mere nod locally, the English-born
actress had recently hit America by storm.
Lily Langtry passes through town
Two simple notices, published a week apart in late June 1884 in the Gilroy Advocate, were all the locals knew of a world-famous phenomenon who passed through the town’s rail station, on her way to Monterey. Although meriting a mere nod locally, the English-born actress had recently hit America by storm.
For all her later international fame, Lily Langtry had a modest, middle-class upbringing. Born in 1853 on the Isle of Jersey, her real name was Emilie Charlotte le Breton, but she adopted the name Lily after the famed Jersey lily, which she often wore in her hair. The surname, Langtry, came from her first marriage. Her father was an Anglican priest, and Dean of St. Saviour’s, the Isle’s local church. With seven older brothers, Lily grew up as a tomboy, but along with her siblings, she was well educated in the classics, which included instruction in Latin and Greek. She was also said to excel at advanced mathematics.
When one of her brothers married into the Langtry family, Lily became acquainted with her new in-laws, and in 1874 she married Edward Langtry., Originally wealthy Irish from Belfast, the Langtrys had become local landowners in Jersey. By the time Lily met Edward, his portion of family wealth was running out, much of it spent on his fancy yacht, The Red Gauntlet. Within the first three years of his and Lily’s marriage, they were reduced to a simple existence. The pair moved to London, where Lily began to move in social circles. She admired the works of London artists and was a good friend of painter James McNeill Whistler. Seen as a beauty with classic features, she posed for several of his works. She also moved in literary society, becoming a close acquaintance of writer-playwright Oscar Wilde. Soon, Lily became the talk of the town.
It was through her connections in the era’s high society and artistic circles that Lily became a courtesan. Her most famous liaison was as longtime mistress of Queen Victoria’s son, Albert Edward, or “Bertie,” the Prince of Wales. At a dinner party one evening, he became captivated by her beauty and intelligence. The pair quickly established themselves as an exclusive couple, seen together taking carriage rides, attending the Ascot and watching sailboat regattas. In 1877, the prince built Lily a home at Bournemouth’s East Cliff, so the two cold spend private time together. In time, the Prince dumped her, reputedly because she got drunk at one of his soirees and fell down.
Her high connections with London’s elite dried up. Good fortune only struck again when the era’s prime stage actress, Sarah Bernhardt, persuaded Lily to try acting. In 1881, Lily made her stage debut as Kate Hardcastle in “She Stoops to Conquer.” Even though she was never considered a great stage performer, her acting was more than competent, and audiences turned out just to see her perform. Over the years she often played to sold-out houses and in time became a self-made millionairess. Her best-known roles were in 1882 as Rosalind in “As You Like It,” and in 1885 as Lady Teazle in “The School for Scandal.” When not trodding the boards, Lily successfully managed several London theaters.
Along with her rise to stage stardom, in 1881 Lily gave birth to an illegitimate daughter. She named the girl Jeanne Marie Langtry, bestowing her husband’s surname. The daughter was reputedly the result of Lily’s fling with Prince Louis Battenberg, to whom she had been passed off by the Prince of Wales. Louis eventually married someone else. He fathered the Earl of Mountbatten, who became the last Viceroy of India, and the grandfather of Prince Philip, the present Duke of Edinburgh, Queen Elizabeth’s consort.
Following Jeanne’s birth. Lily retired to the countryside for a time, and Prince Louis reputedly gave her money to support their daughter, for whom he claimed paternity.
Lily didn’t stay under wraps for long. She traveled to the United States in 1882, and played to packed theaters audiences in New York and Boston. She returned again several years later, which explains why she was mentioned in June 1884 in the Gilroy Advocate as passing through the station enroute to Monterey. The posh seaside resort, the Del Monte Hotel, was a draw for the rich and famous of the era.
When she toured the United States, Lily traveled in her own parlor car, surrounded by Oriental rugs and posh adornments. The Pullman carriage, named “Lalee,” was the gift of Freddie Gebhard, a rich industrialist and one of Lily’s many admirers.
In 1887, the same year she divorced the long-suffering Edward Langtry, Lily renounced her British citizenship and applied to become naturalized as a US citizen. In all, she spent six years touring and acting in America. She loved California, and purchased large ranch acreage in Lake County, next to Freddie Gebhard’s property. She grew a vineyard and produced claret wine, then sold the ranch in 1906. The estate, established in 1888, still exists, and was for many years known as Guenoc Vineyard. The property has recently been renamed Langtry Estate and Vineyards.
Lily’s likeness seemed to show up everywhere. She was an early endorser of bath and cosmetic products, appearing in magazine ads for Pear’s Soap.
Judge Roy Bean of Texas, a longtime admirer, renamed the town, Langtry, Texas, after her.
Among her many California interests, Lily developed a love of breeding and racing horses. By then, homesick for her roots, she returned to England and to Jersey. In 1899 she remarried, to a man 19 years her junior, Hugo Gerald de Bathe. The pair became leaders in the horse-racing world. They eventually retired to Monaco, and the well-known casino life.
When she died at age 75 in Monte Carlo in 1929, Lily’s demise was considered the end of an era. She was buried on the Isle of Jersey at St. Saviour’s churchyard, where her father had served.
Her death, too, was marked in the Gilroy newspapers, even though, 45 years earlier, she had only passed through town on a train.
