Women at Sea: Great Whore or Selfless Heroine

The story of a humbly born Irishwoman in the 19th century could have been very boring indeed. Opportunities for such a personage were limited but, as today’s curious example shows, perhaps only by the imagination and ambition of the specific individual.

Elisa or, alternatively, Eliza Lynch was born in County Cork some time in 1835. Her origins are dim and she seemed to have preferred to keep them that way. When she spoke of her parents at all it was to tell a tale of illegitimate birth; she was, she claimed, the daughter of an Irish housemaid and a very aristocratic gentleman. No later researcher seems to be able to verify this juicy tidbit.

In 1850, Elisa and her mother showed up in Paris. The fifteen year old was a striking beauty with auburn hair and skin so white that the blue veins showed through at her neck and temples. Mother must have been in the market for a good catch for strolls in the more fashionable districts were a daily entertainment for the pair. This was the great age of Paris courtesans in the mold of Marie Duplessis, La Dame aux Camelias, and one wonders if Mom wasn’t looking to turn a profit on her lovely daughter. If this was the case, Elisa foiled her plans; she eloped with a French soldier, Lieutenant de Quatrefages, and followed him to his post in Algeria.

The life of a soldier’s wife in North Africa did not suit Elisa, however, and within three years she was back in Paris pursuing the life of a demimondaine. Within this glittering, sordid milieu, Elisa came into contact with a visiting dignitary from one of the newly antonymous states in South America, Francisco Solano Lopez. The illegitimate son of the dictator of Paraguay was nonetheless next in line for the seat of power. The two could not have been an odder couple. He was short, perhaps even a dwarf, ugly, and ill-mannered; the notorious wit Theophile Gautier called Lopez “a barbarian.” Elisa, on the other hand, was poised, well-spoken and tall; she was also hungry for both power and wealth. The two became lovers in short order.

When Lopez was called back to Paraguay, Elisa packed up her belongings and followed him within a few months. The crossing was abysmal, with Elisa seasick most of the voyage. Because Paraguay was landlocked and in constant conflict with its coastal neighbors, Elisa met obstacles to entering the country upon arriving in Brazil. These hardships seemed only to have hardened her resolve; she was reunited with Lopez not long before he became Paraguay’s “El Supremo” with the death of his father in 1862.

Elisa set to work immediately. Styling herself as “Empress”, she began systematically controlling access to Lopez. Bribes had to be paid directly to her in order for officials to see or even petition the dictator. She amassed large tracks of arable land at scandalously low prices and launched into a mania for building. Theatres, opera houses and mansions in the French style went up brick by expensive brick, only to stand either unfinished or empty. The backwater capitol of Asuncion became like a Hollywood sound stage, all show and no substance.

Meanwhile, Lopez became more and more megalomaniacal. He ignored the needs of his people, who lived – for the most part – at the very edge of subsistence and lined his pockets at their expense. Elisa was given the jewels and clothing of women whose husbands had been declared “enemies” of Lopez who included his own brothers and sisters. El Supremo’s final bungle, the one that would nearly destroy his country, was declaring war on his neighbors, Uruguay, Argentina and most disastrous of all, Brazil, over access to the Atlantic Ocean.

Now known as the War of the Triple Alliance, this six year holocaust would wipe out 90 percent of the male population of Paraguay. Women and young boys were reduced to fighting crack Brazilian units with rocks and bottles. All the while, Elisa continued her grasping, greedy bid for personal wealth. She collected silver and gold from citizens. This was ostensibly to fund the war effort but, more often than not, the wealth was shipped to her bank accounts in Europe. Occasionally she would appear in the military camps, dripping with jewels and wrapped in silk, to play her piano which went with her everywhere along with a retinue of innumerable servants and slaves. Doubtless her visits did not bring the good cheer she imagined they might.

Personal tragedy struck the “Empress” when her lover and their oldest son were killed at the Battle of Cerro Cora, which ended the ill-advised war in 1870. Elisa, in a fashion unfamiliar to her character, personally buried the bodies near the battlefield. She attempted to keep vigil over them but Lopez was dug up and mutilated overnight. Elisa again buried the body, but her troubles were just beginning.

Elisa’s assets were almost immediately frozen by the new rulers of Paraguay and she was accused of war profiteering. Seeing the handwriting on the wall, she left for Europe, arriving in London and then heading for Paris where she arrived in the winter of 1870. Her prospects were bleak; the Franco-Prussian War and the rise of the Paris Commune were giving the boot to the Golden Age of Courtesans. Old friends like the notorious Cora Pearl were as destitute as “Madame” Lynch; living in a garret did not appeal at all.

In 1875, Elisa returned to Paraguay to try to regain some portion of her vast, ill-gotten wealth. She was jeered as a “whore” and booted from the country with very little ceremony. She died in Paris of stomach cancer at the age of 50, a lonely woman living hand to mouth.

Perhaps surprisingly, Elisa’s legacy turned on a wave of nationalism and historical fantasy in mid-20th century Paraguay. Both she and Lopez were remade as national heroes. A monument was built to Elisa in one of Asuncion’s cemeteries, her remains were brought over from France and the inscription praised her as courageous, loyal and – perhaps most surprisingly – selfless.
As Robin Cross and Rosalind Miles assert in Warrior Women, Elisa Lynch may arguably have been one of the greatest adventuresses of the 19th century. She was certainly a force to be reckoned with, if not in the most altruistic of ways.

Header: Elisa Lynch as Empress of Paraguay c 1864 via Wikipedia