'pu^..Q.^.SiAXJU^^ Cornell University Library DA 483.H21S56 3 1924 027 991 656 Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/cletails/cu31924027991656 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON • It takes a hundred and fifty years to make a beauty — a hundred and fifty years out of doors. . . . Without these constant factors, beauty cannot be, but yet they will not alone produce it. There must be something in the blood which these influences gradually ripen. . . . Erratic, meteor-like beauty ! For how many thousand years has man been your slave ! The sentiment at the sight of a perfect beauty is as much amazement as admiration. It so draws the heart out of itself as to seem like magic' Richard Jeffeeies. ' I cannot make friends with all, but the few friends I have, I would die for them. ' Lady Hamilton to Lord Nelson, Oct. 1798. Add. MS. 34,989, f. 84. EMMA LADY HAMILTON FROM NEW AND ORIGINAL SOURCES AND DOCUMENTS TOGETHER WITH AN APPENDIX OF NOTES AND NEW LETTERS BY WALTER SICHEL AUTHOR OF ' BOLINGBR.OKE AND HIS TIMES ' ' DISRAELI, A STUDY ' NEW YORK DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 1906 TO ^. E. S. AND G. H. T. Fi done ! Tu as I'ivresse du peuple.— — C'est la bonne, c'est celle du plaisir. Beaumarchais. Ah, Emma, who'd ever be wise If madness were loving of thee 1 Lord Bristol, Bishop of Derrv. PREFACE In attempting this theme, I found! that to do it real justice, both from the personal and historical point of view, I must perforce and in great measure begin afresh. Many new manuscripts of the highest importance have passed into the national collection during about the last twenty years. And apart from these, much new and weighty evidence exists. Much casts new lights both on the character of Lady Hamilton, the whole story of her life, and the history of Naples. Much has remained unknown or unnoticed both in contemporary manuscripts and con- temporary books, research into which is needful if a living picture is to be formed ; for by such means alone we are enabled to view things from the inside, to get, as it were, behind the scenes, and close up to the persons. Two at least among many manuscript collections in the British Museum are new in their revelations, and have escaped attention. The first is the correspondence of Lady Hamilton with Nelson in the autumn of the year 1798, after the Nile victory (Add. MS. 34,989). Not only does this shed immense light on her character, on the part that she played with the Queen of Naples, and on the ripening of her Nelson-worship, but I was fortunate enough to discover in it a letter of June 17 (reproduced in this volume) to which Nelson's famous and much-debated ' I have kissed the Queen's letter' is, without question, the immediate answer. This conclusively upsets some of the ingenious theories put forward by modern sceptics in criticising Lady viii EMMA, LADY HAMILTON Hamilton's claim to have procured what enabled Nelson to water and provision the British fleet. Both in this respect, however, and in others regarding Lady Hamilton's several 'services,' I had from other documents arrived at independent conclusions. This collection further comprises many most material letters of later dates, and among them a series written by Lady Hamilton to Mrs. William Nelson during 1801, relative to the hitherto unnoticed 'Prince of Wales ' episode which figures in these pages, and bearing also both on Nelson's hurried visit to London before he started for the Baltic, and the life led by him and the Hamiltons on their first installation at Merton. These and the correspondence of 1798 are of such novel interest, that they . are both transcribed, with a number of other new and enlightening letters, in the Appendix, which also contains the longer and the controversial notes, so as not to over-encumber the narrative. The whole series was not acquired by the British Museum until 1896, and therefore neither Mr. J. Cordy JeafFreson nor Professor Laughton could have used it. The second, however, was purchased in 1886, but possibly it may not have been available in 1887 and 1889. Had it been so, it would certainly have modified their views. It is the long and remarkable series of Sir John Acton's correspondence with Sir William Hamilton (Egerton MS. 2639-2640), penned in the quaintest English, illuminat- ing events and characters, and indispensable to a right understanding of the persons and the period. With these should be studied further letters of the same Neapolitan Minister, which are to be found both in the Hamilton correspondence (Egerton MS. 2634-2641) and in a mis- cellaneous collection (Egerton MS. 1623), which to many documents of human interest adds letters both from Acton and from the Queen of Naples. There is besides, much regarding Lady Hamilton herself to be gleaned from the PREFACE ix correspondence of Sir J. Banks with Sir W. Hamilton (Eger- ton MS. 2641); and something — especially as to Romney and Lady Hamilton — in a manuscript collection of Hayley's correspondence (Add. MS. 30,805). Moreover, there are isolated letters of interest and value, such as that from Sir William Hamilton to Greville about Emma (Add. MS. 34,710 D) which ranks with those in the Morrison Auto- graphs ; and another of Nelson to Emma, also hitherto unquoted, but perhaps the most striking of any that he ever addressed to her, from a collection, too, of the highest value otherwise (Add. MS. 34,274). There are also various other manuscript sources which I need not here specify. There are, of course, the Nelson Papers, much used, on which these and kindred sources shed fresh and considerable light ; and there exist still further and most valuable collec- tions which have hitherto been either unconsulted or insuffi- ciently examined. Such is the correspondence of Nelson's brother and successor (Add. MS. 34,992), which contains, with much else concerning his conduct after Nelson's death, a conclusive document which will be found in the Appendix. Then there is the correspondence of Nelson's confidential friend Alexander Davison (Egerton MS. 2240), a minute inspection of which reveals much that is new in the lives and characters of Lady Hamilton, her husband, and Nelson. Nor would it seem that the Hamilton Papers above men- tioned have themselves been fully scrutinised in all their historical bearings, since the erasures and interlineations in one at least of Sir William's official drafts perhaps assist the main evidence of what seems to have happened privately. The manuscript letters of Maria Carolina, Queen of Naples, in more than one series in the British Museum, have many of them been quoted both by English and foreign writers; but her crabbed handwriting has some- times caused material mistranscriptions. Nothing more touching can be imagined than these reliquaries, so to X EMMA, LADY HAMILTON speak, of past emotion, with their inclosures of sad mementoes and Emmais own indorsements on their covers. The royal flight from Naples to Palermo in December 1798 played a great part in her career, as she herself played an even greater part in its thrilling scenes. From the Queen's letters of this date (Egerton MS. 161 5 and 1623) combined with others from the Vienna Archives (in Baron Helfert's Life of Fabrizio Ruffo), the Acton letters, and those in the Morrison Autographs, I have tried to reconstruct this melodrama as if it were a sensation of yesterday. I have further been able to secure originals and copies of many unknown and striking letters touching Lady Hamilton's actions and circumstances throughout her career. Nor should I omit the great assistance afforded by the pub- lished excerpts from many autographs in Messrs. Sotheby's Catalogues of Sale. Placed in their proper context, these enable one to understand much which without them would remain obscure ; and the Appendix includes a number of these also. I am under the deepest obligation to Mrs. Alfred Morrison for her kindness in lending me a printed but unpublished copy of the autograph Hamilton and Nelson Papers. These letters, invaluable alike to psychologist and historian, are only of complete use when they can be consulted in their entirety, and in their full relations both to themselves and to companion letters. Had Mr. Jeaffreson closely studied them he would have come to different conclusions on many subjects — the mysterious Emma ' Carew,' for instance, among minor matters, and the affectionate intimacy of Nelson's sisters, sister-in-law, and their children with Lady Hamilton, consistently main- tained up to the very end. Perhaps he may have been unable to do so, because when he wrote they may not yet have been privately printed or fully catalogued. Like considerations touch the relevance of all these PREFACE XI sources to history, to controversial criticism, and to Captain Mahan's characterisation, so far as his delightful book affects Lady Hamilton. That book explains Nelson's tactics far more than it penetrates the hidden springs of motive and temperament, based as*' it is mainly on published and acknowledged records. It hardly fathoms the secret of two hearts. Some critics, in trying to dispute the date or authenticity of material letters, have urged the unlikelihood of Nelson and Sir William Hamilton addressing each other during 1798 as 'my dear Nelson,' or 'my dear Hamilton,' but the Morrison Manuscripts of this date comprise one in which Hamilton does so address Nelson ; and in less trivial examples also, the distinction between the wording of private and ofKcial correspondence has often been over- looked. Again, a state-document most relevant to the events of July 1798 (' The Governor of Syracuse's despatch ') is explained by a letter from Sir John Acton in this series ; while many other papers outside it supply a key to the diplomatic situation which underlies and interprets most of the Neapolitan communications during this period. It has also been objected that Nelson could not, in June 1798, have referred (as he does) to the 'sufferings' of the royal family. Acton's manuscripts of this date, however, many of the Queen's letters, a notable draft by Hamilton (Egerton MS. 2635, f. 287), and a mass of other, private and official, correspondence, unite in establishing the fitness of the phrase. These and kindred mistakes are mere links in a chain of evidence ; but, broadly speaking, all Lady Hamilton's claims will be found to receive fresh and important corrobora- tion. Some of the statements in her several ' Memorials ' have been misconstrued, while most have been traversed. Their verification, however, in these pages by new evidence is some argument for the substantial truth of the rest. xii EMMA, LADY HAMILTON It has been assumed, for instance, that her mention of the ' secret passage ' in her narrative of the royal family's melodramatic flight to Palermo is a myth. Acton's corre- spondence, however, displays this incident as an historical certainty. Lady Hamilton, again, pleaded in her 'Prince Regent Memorial' of 1813 that her late husband on his deathbed had urged his nephew to press the Government for some recognition of her services. Greville's own letter, transcribed in the Appendix, not only confirms her state- ment, but protests that the truth of her 'Claims' was within the knowledge of the Foreign Office. It has been taken for granted that the reason for disregarding them was official disbelief. The real causes were very diffisrent and scarcely creditable to the ministers. Nor has it been borne in mind that Sir William Hamilton's own claims were equally ignored. A lack of thorough investigation, moreover, or of available materials, has often caused misinterpretation. Several new episodes have been here unearthed which a preface cannot detail. It may sur- prise many to learn that Nelson's bequest of an annuity to the woman of his heart was long withheld from her, and never paid in advance — as the will stipulated — till the year before her death. I venture also to hope that Nelson's own character and achievements stand more fully revealed by the fresh lights and sidelights which serve to bring his extraordinary individuality into relief, to explain his policy, and to clear up some vexed passages both in his private and his public actions. As England absorbed him, so did Emma. With regard to books, I may say that I have endeav- oured to study every contemporary work that can possibly illustrate the life of Lady Hamilton or the imbroglios of history in which she became involved: no odd corner, whether in print or manuscript, has been left unsearched ; nor have I omitted those clues regarding either her or any PREFACE xiii of her friends (however slight their parts in the drama) that even parish registers afford. The apocryphal Memoirs of 1815, frequently repeated, aver that she signed her marriage register under a false name. The Marylebone parish books show that this was not the case ; and it will be found, moreover, that previous conjectures as to the date of her birth have been inaccurate. It may be added that most of the striking material for Emma's life in the Nelson Letters'^ (surreptitiously published in 1814) has passed unnoticed. These two volumes include one of her few surviving letters to Nelson, some of Sir William's private epistles to her in 1792, as well as two of her letters to Greville, some from him and Lord Bristol, and of course a long series of private letters from Nelson himself. In striving to understand the inner workings of the Neapolitan Revolution of 1799, I have gone straight to the many Italian sources ; and here I may express my admira- tion of Mr. Gutteridge's most scholarly monograph on Nelson and the Neapolitan Jacobins, published last year for the Navy Record Society, which summarises almost every available authority, and with the conclusions of which I cordially agree. I can only trust that my mite of research may not be wholly useless in the exploration of this comparatively forgotten but most interesting back-water of history. Without further enlargement, then, the foregoing con- siderations must furnish an excuse, if excuse be needed, for endeavouring to grapple with the subject, and a justifi- cation for thinking that Lady Hamilton's history needs to be rewritten with all the new lights and authentic records that time has added, and that the survey, if condensed, should aim at being comprehensive. ' Their full title is, ' The Letters of Lord Nelson to Lady Hamilton, with a Supplement of Interesting Letters by Distinguished Characters. London. For Thomas Lovewell & Co., Staines House, Barbican.' xiv EMMA, LADY HAMILTON It is a career of widespread interest and unusual fascina- tion — a 'human document' of many problems that well repay the decipherer and the discoverer. My aim through- out has been to quicken research into life, and to furnish a new study of her striking temperament and the temperaments which became so curiously interwoven both with each other and with history. I have sought, however imperfectly, to render investigation vivid rather than to register statistics about Lady Hamilton. I have tried to stage anew, and with fresh scenes, a drama surprising both in plot and character, and to picture the peculiar psychology of the Triajuncta in uno, as well as their psychological moments. In conclusion, my repeated thanks are due to Mrs. Alfred Morrison for so kindly allowing me to have copies of the two volumes of the catalogued manuscripts printed for private circulation ; to my friend Mrs. Hampden of Ewelme for copies of most interesting manuscript letters, some wholly unpublished, others partially. My acknow- ledgments are also due, among others, to Mr. Sabin and Mr. Robson for allowing me to have copies of the letters in their possession ; to Messrs. Sotheran for permitting me to inspect a very curious collection of cuttings, autographs, and portraits ; to the Reverend Canon H. Drew, the Reverend Canon E. C. Turner, the Rector of Marylebone, and the Reverend C. Jagger of Merton, for their kind compliance with my request for information on many points from the parish registers of Hawarden, Neston, Marylebone, and Merton ; to Miss Andalusia Harvey for being so good as to acquaint me with the basis for her family traditions regarding Ickwell Bury and Lady Hamilton ; to my friend Mr. C. C. Lacaita for his suggestions concerning sources for the events of the Neapolitan Revolution of 1798- 1799; and to Mr. Neville-Rolfe, our Consul at Naples, for his helpful information. My thanks are further due to the Hon. Herbert Gibbs for most kindly allowing me to reproduce his original PREFACE XV of ' Circe ; to Signor Monaco of the San Martino Gallery at Naples for permitting the recently acquired portrait of Sir John Acton to be photographed ; to Mr. Jones, parish clerk of Hawarden, for much kind assistance; to Messrs. E. Parsons for being so good as to let me photograph the portrait of Lady Hamilton in their possession; to Mr. Urban Noseda for consenting to the reproduction of his mezzotint of ' Euphrosyne ' ; and to Mr. Sanderson of Edinburgh for kindly placing a photograph of his historical table at my disposal. It is hoped that the illustrations — comprising, besides the miniature sold this year from the Capel-Cure Collec- tion, original and unreproduced studies and sketches by Romney as well as rare and unknown likenesses of her and her friends — will add fresh and special interest to this epitome of the 'sad vicissitude of things.' WALTER SICHEL. Sefitemier 1905. *^* At the last moment I find I must waive two out of three surmises from alleged discrepancies between Sir W. Hamilton's draft despatch and his formal despatch to Lord Grenville of June 1798 (referred to in Appendix n. G. and on pp. 206-7). Most of these discrepancies were based on some mistranscriptions of my own, since corrected. The surrender, however, of such minor points in no way affects the validity of my real arguments in favour of Lady Hamilton's claim ; and with regard to this technical case of Hamilton's draft, I still think that the date and nature of his alterations are suggestive. I may be permitted here to point out that all the remaining letters from Lady Hamilton to Nelson are given in this volume, including one (p. 347) from the Egerton Manuscripts. And, finally, may I venture to hope that, with fuller knowledge and insight, the worn label of ' common adventuress' may no longer adhere to this true and strange daughter of democracy ? W. S. CONTENTS rAGB vii Preface ..... I. Prelude : Lady Hamilton's Temperament . i II. The Curtain Rises : 1 765-1 782 . -33 III. The 'Fair Tea-maker of Edgware Row': i 782-1 784 56 IV. ' What God, and Greville, pleases' : To March 1786 79 V. Apprenticeship and Marriage : 1787-1791 VI. Till the First Meeting : 1 791-1793 . VII. ' Stateswoman ' : 1 794-1797 VIII. Triumph: 1798 IX. Flight: December 1798 — ^January 1799 X. Triumph Once More: To August 1799 XI. Homeward Bound : To December 1800 XII. From Piccadilly to 'Paradise' Merton: 1801 XIII. Exit 'Nestor': January 1802 — May 1803 XIV. Penelope and Ulysses : June 1803 — January 1806 XV. The Importunate Widow in Liquidation : February i8o6 — ^July 1814 .... XVI. From Debt to Death: July 18 14 — January 18 15 b 97 137 168 201 242 262 312 341 384 405 433 464 PAGE xviii EMMA, LADY HAMILTON APPENDIX Part I. — Notes A. Evidences as to the date of Lady Hamilton's birth 47° B. Dr. James Graham -476 C. Emma'Carew' 479 D. Lady Hamilton's Letter in French to the Countess of Lichtenau . . . • • .481 E. New Inferential Evidence for Lady Hamilton's General Services to England in 1 794- 1 795 . . . • 481 F. Lady Hamilton's Claim concerning the King of Spain's secret letters in the spring of 1795 ^od the autumn of 1796 further considered ...... 483 G. Lady Hamilton's Claim to have procured the watering of the British fleet in the summer of 1798 further considered . 486 H. An Abstract of the legal document of May 6, 1814, whereby Lady Hamilton received her first payment in advance of Lord Nelson's annuity ..... 489 Part II. — New Letters A. Lady Hamilton's Correspondence with Lord Nelson in September and October 1798 ..... 489 B. Lady Hamilton's Correspondence with Mrs. William Nelson in February and March 1801, and in the following Novem- ber ; together with two extracts from letters addressed to Lady Hamilton by Mrs. William Nelson (afterwards Sarah, Countess Nelson) in 1804 and 1805 respectively, and a letter of September 20, 1802, from Lady Hamilton to A. Davison about the Welsh trip . . . .501 C. Later and other New Letters from and to Lady Hamilton — (i) (a) Extract from a letter firom Lady Hamilton to J. D. Thomson, September 14, 1805 . . . 507 (V) Lady Hamilton to Earl Nelson about the 'last codicil,' November 14, 1806 . . . 508 (2) Earl Nelson's answer to the preceding, November i6, 1806 ....... 508 CONTENTS XIX \3J) («) Lady Hamilton to William Hayiey, Jane 5. 1806 ;o8 ^d"; Lady Hamilton to the Re*. A. J. Sa*t (a vin- dicatjon), September ~, 1S06 . . . 509 4' Snmmaiy ol a letter finun Lady Hamilton to Sir R. Barday regarding the sale of the Meiton estate, Riclimtuid, iSq5 . . .510 .5 (a) Extract fiom a letter from Lady Hamilton to J. Heariside, surgeon, Jane 5. 1808 . .510 {f) Extract fitun a letta fiton Lady Hamflton to the Hm. C. F. Greville, NoxTember 1S08 . . 510 (6) (a) Extract firom a l^tw fitHn Lady Hamilton to Mrs. Girdlestone respecting her mother and the Dnke of Sassex^ Angost II, iSii . . 511 (i) Extract from a letter frtm Lady Hanulton to Captsun Rose, iSor ...... ;i2 -> Snmmaiy of a Ittter from Lady Hamilton to Mrs. RasseU about the 'Prince Regent' Manorial, Dec rS. 1812 . 512 (8) Lttter fiom the same to Lord St. Vincoit ,?' on the same subject vci. Note E. in Part l.\ FdHoary 7, 1S13 512 (9} Extract frun a letter from die same to Mr. and Mrs. Rossdl about 'the onfortmiate Jevitt,' 1813 . 512 (10) («) Extract from a letter fiom Lady Hamiltan to Sir William Scott ^afrenrards Lord StoweUX fiom 'The Common of St. Peer's, two miles fiom Calais,' September 12, 1814 . - 313 xi". Lady Hamilton^ letter to the newsps^ieis abont the mmoarswfaidi had been pabiished,S^>tember is. 1814 ....... 513 Adikxda (11) Extract fiom a l^ter of Lady Hamihon to Flaxman, January (?) 1801 ...... 514 (12) Extract fiom a letter of W. Hayl^ to Flaxman rdatii^ to :he same, November i", 1805 -514 (13) Extract fitm a letto- 233- ' Cf. Greville's letter to Romney, February 25, 1788, quoted in John Romney's Life of his father, p. 184. ' Cf. the letter of August 1786, found in one of Romney's sketch-books by Mr. Fairfax Murray.and given in Mr. H. Ward's and Mr. W. Roberts's Life of Romney, vol. i. p. 67. 20 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON of acquaintance, also noticed her neatness and fondness for plain if good attire. Sir William, writing to her from a shooting-box some years before her marriage with him, and after she had graced without jewels a Neapolitan ball where all the wives of the corps diplomatique glittered with gems, observed that she was the ' brightest jewel ' there ; and in another letter : ' Take my word,' he told his wife, ' that for some years to come the more simply you dress, the more conspicuous will be your beauty, which, according to my idea, is the most perfect I have met with, take it all in all.'^ None the less, her simplicity suffered as she won applause, and the earlier pictures of her are the most touching. It is needless to pursue the dreamland which she created for Romney. Scores of other artists, at home and abroad, painted, sculptured, modelled her in wax, carved her on intaglios or enamelled her on boxes. Tischbein, Hackert and the Italian Rega were prominent.^ Romney's friend Tresham was always painting her. The great Sir Joshua is not ascertained to have painted any other semblance of her than the ' Bacchante ' — commissioned by Sir William Hamilton, his old ally, to whom he wrote among the first about the foundation of the Royal Academy.® But Hoppner and Lawrence limned her more than once ; * Gainsborough also painted her,^ though I cannot agree that his ' Musidora ' resembles her ; rather it is like Mrs. ' Perdita ' Robinson. Cosway drew and miniatured her. There are two among several representations by Angelica Kauffmann, one as Cleopatra, the other a really fine study of Ariadne deserted, though not to be compared with Romney's presentment of her in that forsaken character. ' Angelaca ' (as Emma styled her) painted her also as an Italian Contadina resting by a pillar of the Caserta home- ' Nelson Letters, Jan. i8, 1792. From Persano, whither he accompanied the king. " The writer has one of these ; another, in the British Museum, was used by Nelson as a seal. ' Morrison MS. 17, March 1769. Reynolds, however, is believed to have left at least one sketch of her. * In Sir Walter Armstrong's Life this portrait is catalogued as ' Ex Bishop of Ely.' " He drei* her at least twice — once after Sir William's death ; but his Bacchante holding a cherry is the sole work of significance. Lady Hamilton. From an early ivaier-colonr sketch by H. Tresham. LADY HAMILTON'S TEMPERAMENT 21 stead, or perhaps in Rome, and this portrait, which lacks distinction, is now in the South Kensington Museum. But she also delineated her naturally as 'A Lady Resting.' Cipriani made, it is said, a delicate water-colour of her towards the close of his life, while she was still on the threshold of youth. Gavin Hamilton drew her as ' Thalia,' and the head of this still masquerades in England as a work of Romney. Madame Le Brun's ' Bacchaate on the Seashore ' is familiar, but she further portrayed her as a Sibyl and also as ' Bacchante ' in a different attitude. Cuzzardi — a mediocre painter — portrayed her both at large and in miniature. Opie seems to have painted her as an orange-girl ; Single- ton drew her as ' Maternal Attention ' and as ' Laughter' — reminiscent of Romney. The Irish Barry also tried his hand ; Wells, too, limned her as ' Inquiry ' and ' Nerissa ' ; others as ' Hebe,' as ' Industry,' as ' Idleness.' Even Westall could not vulgarise her as ' St. Cecilia ' and 'Sappho.' The second-rate Masquerier took her portrait in England about 1802. Saye's mezzotint has a Neapolitan background, but the original, unearthed at the end of last year, shows an English park, possibly that of Fonthill. There were, moreover, masses of apocryphal portraits, especially in Paris, where the Jacobins delighted to malign even her face from imagination. She may be said to have founded both a type and a vogue, for more than one fashion- able lady was taken 'as Lady Hamilton.' Her play of expression was indeed extraordinary. She could so trans- form her face and gestures in harmony with her moods as to become a separate impersonation. In repose her counte- nance looked wholly different from its aspect under agita- tion, and her profile differs from her full face. To Romney then, as afterwards to Nelson, she was a Muse ; a Muse communicating and inspiring, or, at least, a medium of inspiration. To the part of Muse the symmetry of her form and features — those of a Greek statue or in- taglio ^ — the classical yet mobile mouth which artists from * When Sir William, the most zealous of connoisseurs and antiquarians, made a tour in 1789 to the southernmost region of Italy, he acquired an intaglio which he averred the image of Emma. In 1800 he called her his 'fair Grecian.' Cf. Cyrus Redding's Fifty Years of my Life, 22 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON the first singled out as a miracle,^ the auburn tresses touched with gold, that, released from their fillets, swayed around her dancing feet, the clear, deep grey-violet of the large, soulful eyes,* all lent themselves. The old Bishop of Derry, Sir William's friend and schoolfellow, scarcely blasphemed in asserting that Emma's creation betokened a 'glorious mood' in her Creator.* True, she was often a muse of the green room, a free and easy muse of Bohemia, sometimes a muse with something of the fury * behind her, on occasion a muse of dare-devilry, a volatile muse too, a muse also that could 'cook "Sir Willum's" apple pies,' * or enjoy the Irish stew which her own mother had dressed,"" and, above all, a muse that gloried in having sprung from the people, and could snap her fingers gaily in the face of kings.^ But a muse, notwithstanding, she endures. She could never have fixed the respectful wor- ship of Romney and the reverent passion of Nelson had not this prerogative been hers. Or, if exception be taken to so fine a metaphor, let me explain my meaning otherwise. Emma was by nature a model — a model that called forth the slumbering ideals or sensations of others. To Romney she was the model of all the possibilities of feeling, and every beauty in action ; she transformed his art, as may be seen by comparing his pictures before with those after he knew her. To Hamilton she was the model of antique art. To Nelson, of glory, of Britain. All these she may not have been, but it was her strange faculty to realise and revive them in others ; to them, these she was. How many models of loveliness in pictures have faded away nameless, while Emma abides! And just as the study for a great picture has the wfekness ' So said Gavin Hamilton. 2 One of them had a small brown speck upon it. The writer owns a water- colour likeness by Romney which defines the colour ; Mrs. St. George in her Journal calls them ' blue.' ' Morrison MS. 248, November 1794. A letter &om Joseph Denham, who recalls the saying to her mind. * Tischbein painted her in this character, and as ' Iphigenia.' " Minto Life and Letters, vol. ii. p. 365. • Journal of Mrs. St. George [Melesina Chenevix, afterwards Mrs. Richard Trench]. Cf. post, ch. xi. ' She did so once in the face of Ferdinand of Naples. Cf. fast, chap, xi. LADY HAMILTON'S TEMPERAMENT 23 peculiar to studies, but a special charm of its own tran- scending the finished work, and tingling with the soul in unison with the hand, so Emma was such a study for that which often she never attained, but constantly inspired. There is a strain of ' Trilby ' about Lady Hamilton, and Du Maurier's pathetic apology for his heroine's lapses applies to her also. Yet fully to understand a faculty so chameleon, we must recognise, as was certainly the case, the grave drawbacks that it entailed. Although there was a sub- structure that was always Emma, she was yet possessed by the reigning influence of the hour. She was what she felt. Under Greville's rule she was prudent, childlike, scrupulously exact even in the household accounts which survive. With Hamilton she became a diplomatist anxious to shine, and rather an economist of fame than money, which she lavished on both public and private purposes, more indeed than his Highland hospitality and the demands of a pinched connoisseur approved ; ^ but even then for her own expenses she never exceeded her most moderate allow- ance, much of which was bestowed on charity. While she was the queen's comrade she caught from Maria Carolina the terse, broken over-emphasis of her style. With Nelson she turned heroine, and it will be found that her heroics meant real heroism. When he died, however, and no ruler of her life was left, the Duke of Queensberry's set, rapacious Italian refugees, the demands of kinsfolk, the burden of Merton improvements, prompted extravagance at every turn. She relapsed into a mere tissue of embedded memories and of bygone selves, unsteadied by controlling mastery. And after her mother's death in i8io, only her unvarying attachment to the child Horatia regulated her at all. The muse as medium, the muse of mutual inspira- tion was dead. Few will question that here was an original woman, whose iridescent nature was not that of the common herd, but a compound of strange opposites. This was no cultivated 1 In one of his letters of 1801 Nelson reminds Emma how her husband used to stint in candles and other trifles. As early as 1774 Sir R. Keith banters him from Vienna on ' economising' in postage. Morrison MS. 32. 24 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON type of the Renaissance such as Diane de Poitiers with the fin sourire of her epoch. She was no vulgar or venal adventuress, still less the wanton minx or pariah of tradi- tion. She was not a daughter of pleasure at all. Nor did she resemble those of her contemporaries, like Lady May- nard and Lady Seaforth, whose mere frailty found refuge in titled wedlock ; or those refined intrigantes, the Countess of Lichtenau and 'Princess Elizabeth,'^ whose romantic adventures drew both to Naples, and whose pitiful ends proved that royalty is perhaps the weakest reed of all on which to lean. Nor was she a fetnme galante like her luck- less friend Mrs. Billington, or like that nobly-born and winning wanderer Grace Dalrymple Elliott, or the sad, sentimental 'Perdita.' Emma's good name was absolutely untarnished from the date of her marriage until 1800; she could fix, as hundreds of epistles witness, not only r^ard but respect One of their foundations was her inherent homeliness. This homeliness, Propriety-Impropriety-Greville — the pattern of precision — always gratefully acknowledged. She had not been long with Sir William before he too vaunted that she was very 'domestic' 'Good and kind,' Nelson often wrote, she was to everybody, ' knowing how to reward merit in rich or poor, b^gar or prince,' and he loved her to row him on the tiny Nile at Merton.* ' I assure you, my dear friend,' he exclaimed in October 1801, ' I had rather read and hear all your little story of a white hen getting into a tree, or an anecdote of Fatima [Horatia], or hear you call "Cupidy, Cupidy," than any speech I shall hear in Parliament ; because I know ' — he adds, referring to an episode which long affected her fate — 'although you can adapt your language and manners to a child, yet that you can also thunder forth such a torrent of eloquence that corruption and infamy would sink before your voice in however exalted a position it might be placed.' Children ^ This extraoidinaiy woman claimed (and perhaps rightly) to be the Czarina's daughter by Connt KasoomowskL After an edncation in Persia and many wanderings, she appealed to the aid of the Sultan, besought Hamilton's assist- ance at Naples, was betrayed by the Rnssian Minister, Orlo^ to the Court of St. Petersburg, where she languished a prisoner till she died. ^ Nelson Letters (1814), toL iL passim. LADY HAMILTON'S TEMPERAMENT 25 and animals and all young things were her joy. She shrank from those enormous battues which Sir William shared annually with the King of Naples, and her compas- sionate heart bled for its victims. Never, once wrote Nelson to her, would any live thing be hurt in her neigh- bourhood. Tranquillity, repose, the details of a farm superintended by her own hands, sat on her as easily at Merton as flutter and excitement in Piccadilly. She long bestowed care on the education of Nelson's nieces, includ- ing the future Lady Bridport. Horatia's, mismanaged as it was, engrossed her from the moment when the child could be received under her roof. And in her heroic days at Naples she performed the humblest services. She was an excellent nurse, perhaps from her early servi- tude as a poor little maid of thirteen. She was always nursing her old husband, and she nursed him affec- tionately to the end. She received Lord St. Vincent's written thanks for nursing Nelson. She was constantly nursing sick friends. And she was ready to tend and mend the entire fleet. There is an amusing passage in one of our new letters of 1798 from her to Nelson in this connection. It concerns an Irish orphan, a lad in Nelson's ship when in the October of this year he was settling affairs at Leg- horn. Emma thus wrote to her hero : ' My dear little fatherless Fady — tell him to keep his head clean and when he comes back I will be his mother as much as I can ; comb, wash, and cut his nails ; for with pleasure I loved to do it all for him.' ^ The Morrison Collection is full of grateful thanks from all sorts and conditions of men and women for her kindnesses towards them. One of these speaks of her ' divine urbanity and condescension by which you have attracted to yourself the admiration and respect of mankind.' * Such was the woman that Nelson's intense attachment has idealised. How he idealised her the following excerpt from an unpublished letter, written on the St. George off ' Add. MS. 34,989, f. 18, October 24, 1798. Sir W. Hamilton in one of his letters to her (Nelson Letters) looks forward to the same attentions, and so does Nelson in another (Morrison MS. ). ' Morrison MS. 453. From T. Roche, Feb. 14, 1800 — a welcome Valentine. 26 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON Rostock some seven weeks after the Copenhagen battle, will indicate. Its praise was caused by her rejection of the overtures of the Prince Regent and his graceless crew, circumstances which called forth some of the most extra- ordinary letters ever written by Nelson.^ Sir William had been selling his pictures at Christie's, and among them, to Nelson's rage, portraits of Emma herself. Nelson com- missioned the purchase of Romney's ' St. Cecilia,' and it eventually found its way to his cabin : ' Yesterday I joined Admiral Totty where I found little Parker with all my treasures, your dear kind friendly letters, your picture as Santa Emma, for a Santa you are, if ever there was one in this world. For what makes a Saint? The being so much better than the rest of the human race. Therefore as truly as I believe in God, do I believe you are a Saint, and in this age of wickedness you sett an example of great Virtue and Goodness which if we are not sunk ia Luxury and Infamy ought to rouse up almost forgot Virtue. . . . And I am one of those who believe that in England the higher the class, the worse the company. I speak generally. I will not think so bad of any class but v that there may be some good individuals in it. How can I sufficiently thank you for all your goodness and kindness to me, a forlorn outcast except in your generous soul.' ^ Hyperbole from a lover's lips ! — and so amazing that it brings one to a halt. It sounds incredible until the curious episode that underlies it is unfolded with our story. And even then, a lover's hyperbole it remains. Their mutual troth was no common passion, but a deep and lasting love. It led him to idealise her beyond comparison, to find in her the fulfilment of his dearest and highest dreams. Her idealised image was for him none the less an inspiriting reality. Good Dr. Johnson deemed his plain wife a beauty. Nelson knew that Emma had been a heroine, and here he proclaims her a saint ! But his devotion led him to invert the accepted stan- dards ; to consecrate a love that discarded wedlock, and to exalt wifeliness far above wifehood, to regard the one in the ' Cf. chap. xii. , where they are reproduced for the first time. 2 Add. MS. 34,274 G., May 24, 1801. Cf. Appendix, Part 11. D. (i). LADY HAMILTON'S TEMPERAMENT 27 light of convenience, the other in the light of conviction. No one can read his later letters, especially the new and striking instances given in the Appendix,^ without realising to what lengths he carried these transposals. Just as the conventional morality often canted against him, so Nelson, by spiritualising his defiance, may be said in a manner to have canted also. But for him it was all truth itself. And she was no less genuine. Her ill-regulated ideals of kindness, of feeling, and of glory — all these she realised in Nelson. Hitherto she had been lovingly grateful to varying selfish- ness. Nelson's unselfishness transfigured her to herself; she became capable of great moments. And she was born for friendship. ' I would not be a lukewarm friend for the world,' she wrote to him at the outset in one of our new letters. ' I cannot make friends with all, but the few friends I have I would die for them.' ^ She was always warm-hearted to a fault, as will amply appear as her character grows up in these pages. So far from numbing Nelson, she nerved him ; nor did she ever debase — far less befoul — any within the range of her influence. But she was also a born pagan, and a born rebel. If such a temperament could admit of saintliness, if such a thing could be as a lawless, an unregenerate saint, then, perhaps, Emma had earned her profane halo far more than would be readily conceded. If courage alone, and generosity, and tenderness, and energy, and big-heartedness, and a will over-defiant of opinion, could make a ' saint/ the phrase had not been overstrained. But Emma never learned the lesson of self-renouncement ; rather she sought to realise herself. I have reserved to the last perhaps the most singular, and certainly the most blameworthy, phase of her develop- ment, which really led to all the miseries and wrongs of her closing years, for ' . . . II est juste Qu'on soit puni par oii I'on a pdchd.' From the disguised birth of Horatia in January 1801, 1 Appendix, Part II. D. (l) (a) and (b), and (8) (2) (a). 2 Add. MS. 34,989, f. 24, Oct. 28. See Appendix, Part 11. A. 28 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON involving both Emma and Nelson, each from their wish to defend the other, in a degrading conspiracy of silence, she was constrained to play the part realised by Sudermann in the heroine of his play Es lebe das Leben. Lady Hamilton thenceforward, like 'Beate,' craved a triple realisation of existence in the strong lover, the weak but still cherished husband, and the tenderly guarded child. It was and ever will be a futile quest. But the Muse in search of a Hero, and the Hero in search of a Muse, encountered each other, and there was an end. To ' warm ' three ' hands before the fire of life ' is incompatible with the very basis of society, and she wronged irretrievably that blameless, if narrow and inadequate, woman who had been united to him in hasty and regretted wedlock.^ Nelson always hoped to have been able to legalise his and Emma's union of hearts. She was his ' pride and delight,'^ ' his wife before God ' ; his love for her was ' unbounded ' as his element ' the ocean ' ; * he would take unto him a wife ' more suitable to his genius ' than the once ' valuable ' Fanny. To Emma, Nelson was ' the dearest husband of my heart,' her ' idol,' her ' man of men,' * her ' Hero of Heroes,' * her ' all of good ' — surely a very sweet and genuine expression, and occurring in the last letter but one that she ever addressed to him.® All his enemies were hers, and all his friends." For him she lived ; in the faith that she would meet him again, she ' In one of her letters Mrs. Bolton, Nelson's sister, says that Lady Nelson only 'pretended to love him.' But his family were biassed against her. Her real faults will appear as the chronicle advances. ^ From an unpublished passage in a letter belonging to Mrs. Hampden : ' Victory, off Carlisle Bay, Barbadoes, June 4, 1805.' In another from the same source (one of his last): ' Victory, off Portland, Sept. 16, 1805.' ... 'I love and adore you to the very excess of the passion. . . . Should I be forced, I will act as a man, neither courting or ashamed to hold up my head before the greatest monarch in the world ! I have, thank God, nothing to be ashamed of.' These, among other letters belonging to Mrs. Hampden, were originally Pettigrew's, but such as he printed were published with the fervour stoned out of them. Cf. Appendix, Part II. D. ' Nelson Letters, vol. i. p. 135, Aug. 26, 1803. He also calls her his ' Alpha and Omega.' ^ Eg. MS. 1623, f. 32, April 2, 1802. " Eg. MS. 2240, f. 151. " Morrison MS. 844, Oct. 24, 1805. ' Ibid., passim, and ci. post, chapters xi. and xii. LADY HAMILTON'S TEMPERAMENT 29 died.i Never was a pair more tenderly attached, or indeed wrapped up in one another. It should be recollected, too, that from their first and brief acquaintance in September 1793, till his death in October 1805, the sum total of time that could be spent in each other's company did not extend to as much as four years. This ordeal of absence, while it heightened their longings, proved a hard strain for endeared affection. But none of this can excuse Nelson for putting away his jealous wife as rashly as he had wedded her, or absolve Lady Hamilton's fanning of his flame, or her atti- tude towards the woman she had foiled, and who had slighted her. And so surely as the imploring wraith of Emma is indissociable from his image on the column of heroism and glory, so surely, even granting her pettier nature and her grievance over shattered social ambitions, that other wraith of the injured wife mutely and justly turns her indignant back on its base. She was unfor- giving, but so was the revengeful rival who had supplanted her. ' Forgiveness to the injured doth belong, He never pardons who hath done the wrong.' Fair Rosamund was probably relentless towards Queen Eleanor before the appearance of the dagger and the bowl. There were, it is true, many palliations; and one un- doubted and curious fact of psychology seems to have been overlooked. None can combine all Nelson's many private letters, scattered through many collections, without realis- ing his intense desire for fatherhood. His wife had never borne him children, while his devotion to his drunken step-; son had all along been ill-repaid both by 'the cub' himself and by the mother, who alternately petted and persecuted her son. Lady Hamilton, too, by nature motherly,^ yearned for a child that she might freely acknowledge. Writing to Nelson so early as the autumn of 1798, in one of our new letters, she ends it thus : ' Love Sir William and myself, for we love you dearly. He is the best husband, I wish I 1 Morrison MS. 959. " Cf. the letters of 1784 in the Morrison MS. about that poor ' little Emma,' of whom she was deprived, and of whom more hereafter. 30 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON cou'd say father allso, but I shou'd be too happy if I had the blessing of having children, so must be content.' ^ For some years she had even then been rather the spoiled daughter than the wife, the nurse and chatelaine more than the partner of her ageing husband, who had so long prided himself on perennial youth. She was sincerely attached to him and he to her, despite those tiffs towards the close of his life, arising from her marked attentions to the man whom both loved and tended. His last letter to her pro- claims that to her alone he remained attached beyond the bounds of friendship, while the words of his will praise Nelson as the most loyal friend and gentleman of his long experience. It is almost impossible to believe that such a practised worldling should have been blind to the real relations which matured so suddenly. His very fond- ness might have set him guessing, for 'who dotes,' in Shakespeare's adage, ' doubts.' One might exclaim with Beaumarchais — ' Qui est-ce done que Ton trompe ? Tout le monde est du secret.' The probability is that with his placid bias and love of ease, he deliberately shut his ears to the insinuations of Greville and others. Rather than risk ' scenes,* or disturb the lives of the two that he loved best in the world, he hoodwinked himself into a fool's paradise. At any rate, both Nelson and Emma (in whose arms he expired) were with him to the last.^ But the retribution to Lady Hamilton came in her. enforced attitude towards Horatia, and Horatia's towards her. Until the alleged offspring of ' Mrs. Thomson ' could safely be lodged at Merton, she had perforce, during their joint visits to the baby in Little Titchfield Street, to stand apart and aloof, despite her yearning. Horatia herself — 1 Add. MS. 34,989, f. 18. That she had one child already (though no more) will be proved as we proceed. What she means is no child of Hamilton that she could be allowed to cherish in her home. 2 The actual account of the closing scene is given by Nelson in a letter imme- diately after Hamilton's death.— Eg. MS. 2240, f. 157. This letter has never been published, and will be cited in its place. It will be found that his last conversation with Greville before he died concerned his desire that the Government would acknowledge and reward her services. LADY HAMILTON'S TEMPERAMENT 31 her mother's last companion — called her * My Lady,' and was afterwards reared to believe her birth a nameless mystery, though a mass of conclusive evidence leaves no shadow of doubt as to whose child she was. Here surely was some burden of punishment. Emma suffered for her sin. Nor should we forget the tone and standard of the age. Two currents were contending. The one, of a materialist aristocracy (still regarded as demi-gods by the people), championing the outward biensiances. Such were the Warwicks, the Hamiltons, the Pembrokes, and the Port- lands. The other, of the equally hedonist sansculottes, who transformed an opera-dancer into the statue of their goddess. Reason ; or of such English Jacobins as Miss Wil- liams, herself crowned in Normandy as the same presiding saint. Unconscious hypocrisy was confronted by conscious licence. Old barriers were openly upheld by those who covertly sneered at them; while those who broke them down stood naked and not ashamed. Everywhere, too, as authority and reverence tottered, while all boundaries bade fair to disappear, was quaffed and handed on from lip to lip the intoxicating cup of emancipation. In the following pages her good and evil qualities will alike be scrutinised. No attempt will be made to blink her errors, which are reviewed and re-examined. But she has been constantly blamed in the wrong instances for lack of a full knowledge, while praise for the same reason has often been inappropriately bestowed. The sole endeavour of my research — the only aim for which research should exist — is truth. With a wide background, and in a full light, the reader can here see her as she lived, and form his own independent judgment. That she played a hand in the hard game of history will be amply manifest. Was it for her own hand that she chiefly played, or did she play, and with her own cards, for others ? One fact is certain : in loving Nelson when she was most powerful and most respected she risked her all, and from mutual help arose their mutual love. Throughout she will be found urging the interests of others before her own, and immediately after Nelson's death first advocating his family's advan- 32 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON tage. Contrary to the received version, she did not address Nelson's brother on her own behalf till more than a year after her hero's death.^ Whatever sentence the reader may pronounce on the evidence to be submitted, he cannot fail to mark the psychological problems of her being. In any case, with all her blots and failings. Lady Hamilton presents one of the most fascinating studies in the eternal duel of sex. To her may well be applied the line which her future husband quoted in his book of 1772 : ^ — ' Tantarum femina rerum.' ' ' Cf. post, chap. XV., and Appendix, Part ll. C. (i) (a) and (2). ^ Observations on Mount Vesuvius, Mount Etna, etc. ' From Cornelius Severus' poem on Etna : — ' The heroine of a thousand things. ' CHAPTER II THE CURTAIN RISES — 1765-1782 On the morning of January 10, 1782, the punctilious and elegant Honourable Charles Francis Greville, gloomy still over the loss of his Warwick election, but consoled by a snug, if unsafe, post in the Board of Admiralty,^ much exercised, too, in his careful way, about minerals, animals, science, the fine arts, and the flickering out of the American war, was even more exercised by a missive from a poor young girl who had already crossed his path. Fronting him in the dainty chamber of his mansion in the new ^ arid fashionable Portman Square, swung a pet monkey,* and hung the loaned ' Venus ' by Correggio, slightly retouched with applied water-colour.* This over-prized picture had been for years the cherished idol of his uncle and alter ego. Sir William Hamilton, K.C.B.,^ Fellow of the Antiquarian and the Royal Societies, member of the Dilettanti, the Tuesday, and other clubs, foster-brother of the now George III., and sometime both his and his brother's equerry ; the busy man of pleasure, the renowned naturalist and ^ Cf. Morrison MS. 95-9?, September and October 1780. He had formerly enjoyed a better post in the Board of Trade. — Morrison MS. 29, May 11, 1773- ' Fortman Square, begun in 1764, was not completed till twenty years later, Greville had previously lived in Charles Street and St. James's Square, with intervals of ' King's Mews,' to which too afterwards he reverted. In the end he returned to Paddington, and the last surviving letter from Emma to him (during her troubles in 1808) is addressed to the scene of their earliest memories. ' Morrison MS. 96. * By 'Henry Morland,' 'painter and picture-dealer, a friend of mine.' — Morrison MS. 36, June 28, 1774. ' In 1773. C 34 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON virtuoso of Portland vase celebrity,^ and already for about eighteen ^ years His Britannic Majesty's amiably-grumbling Ambassador at the Court of the King of the two Sicilies. The monkey's health had disquieted Greville a year before, but this letter almost excited him. It was franked by him- self on a wrapper in his own neat handwriting, bore the Chester postmark, and contrasted strongly with the tasteful tone of the room and its superfine owner. It ran as follows : ' Yesterday did I receve your kind letter. It put me in some spirits for, believe me, I am allmost distracktid. I have never hard from Sir H.,^ and he is not at Lechster now, I am sure. I have wrote 7 letters, and no anser. What shall I dow? Good God what shall I dow. ... I can't come to toun for want of mony. I have not a farthing to bless my self with, and I think my friends looks cooly on me. I think so. O. G. what shall I dow? What shall I dow? O how your letter affected me when you wished me happiness. O. G. that I was in your posesion* or in Sir H. what a happy girl would I have been ! Girl indeed ! What else am I but a girlin distres — in reall distres? For God's sake, G. write the minet you get this, and only tell me what I am to dow. Direct same whay. I am allmos mad. O for God's sake tell me what is to become on me. O dear Grevell, write to , me. Write to me. G. adue, and believe [me] yours for ever Emly Hart. 'Don't tel my mother what distres I am in, and dow afford me some comfort. ' My age was got out of the Reggister, and I now send it to my dear Charles. Once more adue, O you dear friend.' * 1 For his early difficulties in disposing of it, cf. Morrison MS. 61, 1776. Sir Joshua Reynolds, writing to Hamilton in 1769 of 'the grace and genteelness of some of the figures ' in the Neapolitan galleries, calls him ' so great a patron and judge.' — Morrison MS. 17. ^ Cf. Morrison MS. 90. ' Sir Harry Fetherstonehaugh, of Up Park, Sussex, who lived to correspond in middle age with her in terms of the most deferential friendship. His name is thus spelt in his letters. * Misprinted by Mr. Jeaffreson as 'position.' " Morrison MS. 112. This letter has been given with its answer, though with one inaccuracy, by Mr. Jeaffreson. The enclosed duplicate of the baptismal register was, as we shall shortly see, inaccurately copied by the then curate of Great Neston, Cheshire. The Honoukabi.e Charles Fkancis Gkevii.i.e. By G. Romnev. A fter the Mezzotint by H, iilejir. THE CURTAIN RISES 35 Who was this girl in ' reall distres,' what her past ? who were the friends who looked ' cooly ' on her, and for what reasons ? These questions will shortly be answered so far as replies admit of real proof. But first a brief space must be devoted to Greville himself, since his individuality is as necessary to the coming plot as her own. The Honourable Charles Francis Greville was now thirty- two. The second son of the Right Honourable Francis, Earl of Brooke (afterwards Earl of Warwick), and of Elizabeth Hamilton, one of Sir William's sisters, he was born at Fulham on May 12, 1749, and baptized on June 8 follow- ing.^ He was born prematurely old, parsimoniously extra- vagant, and cautiously careless. His cradle should have been garlanded with official minutes, and draped with collectors' catalogues. From his earliest days he was prim, methodical, and pedantic beyond his years. The unlikeli- hood of surviving his eldest brother had been ever before his eyes, and he was set on the emoluments of a political career, promising much to one so highly connected. While still in his teens he began amassing virtu with discernment, and specimens of mineralogy on a ' philosophical ' system. Some years before his majority he had struck up a brotherly affection with his free-hearted uncle, nearly twenty years his senior, who relied on a precocious judgment, invaluable to one compelled by long absences to entrust to others the management of his wife's Pembrokeshire property,^ indispensable also to both in the keen pursuit of their common tastes, the one in Italy, the home of art, the other in England, the nursery of science. From a very early date the student of beauty and curios, the investigator of shells, marine monsters, and volcanoes, 'Pliny the Elder,' as he came to be called, was always exchanging rarities with 'Pliny the Younger,' or commissioning him to buy, sell, or rafiHe Dutch and Italian pictures, Etruscan urns, Greek torsos, and Roman vases. Hamilton was a true man of science, and a really great archaeologist. When he first came to ^ See the Register. Lyson's Environs of London, vol. ii. p. 389. ' Brought him through marriage (in i7S7) with Miss Barlow, a Welsh heiress. His cousin married another Welsh heiress, Miss Williams of Gwint. 36 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON Naples in 1764 he spent months in his Villa Angelica, on the slopes of Mount Vesuvius, taking observations and excavating antiquities. He was far less a trafficker in objects of art and learning than his nephew. He presented both books and specimens of value to the British Museum. His aim, in his own words, was that of 'employing his leisure in use to mankind.'^ Not quite so, however, was that of Pliny the Younger, who in his turn bought crystals and works of art with equal zest of connoisseur- ship. Greville was barely twenty-one when he went the Italian tour, stayed with his uncle at Naples, then in the full fever of unearthing buried chefs-d'oeuvre at Hercu- laneum and Pompeii, which were so soon to experience many fresh escapes from re-destruction by earthquakes and eruptions.* From Rome, in this year, the nephew indited two of the most self-assured letters of grave gossip and counsel that any youngster has ever addressed to one nearly twice his age. They are so like himself that a small part of them must be given : ' I begin with a subject that I have resolved every time I have wrote to mention, and now particularly I am under an obligation to remember, as for the first time my handkerchief has been knotted on the occasion. It is to desire you to enquire for two books I left in my room at your house ; 2 pocket volumes of Milton's works. I borrowed them, and left them with an intention they should be sent to Mr. Harfrere to whom they belong. . . . The ink bottle has this moment oversett, but you see I am not disconcerted, so pray don't make observa- tions, and the letter is as good as it was. Pray let me 1 Observations on Mount Vesuvius, etc. (1772). The villa was probably called after the artist. Hamilton constantly ran great danger in observing and record- ing violent eruptions. He was indefatigable in superintending excavations, and he mentions being present at Pompeii when a horse with jewelled trappings and its rider were unearthed. He was a munificent patron alike of discoverers, travellers, scientists and artists, including Flaxman and Wedgwood. He was a trustee of the British Museum, and a vice-president of the Society of Anti- quaries. A big book on his Greek and Roman antiquities was written by D'Harcauville (Naples, 1765-177S ; Paris, 1787)- Besides the book already mentioned, supplemented in 1779, Hamilton wrote Campi Phkgreei (Naples, 1776-7), and the famous work on Greek and Etruscan urns, etc., illustrated by Bartolozzi. A Life worthy of him ought to be written. "^ 1779> 17831 1794 w^"^^ "*^ worst. THE CURTAIN RISES 37 beg you to avoid every mention of prices, I have done so once before. Pray let me send and be favoured with the acceptance of some baubles. ... I am in the best of humours. I received this morning a line from Lord Exeter who informed me of the Douglas cause being decided in his favour.^ ... I am running about the antiquities from 9 to II with Byres, from 11- 12 with Miss A., so you see I gain Horace's happiness, omne tulit punctum qui miscuit utile dulci. , . . Pray let me lay on you a disagreeable task, choose me a handsome pattern for an applicde, have it wrought for me instantaneously, and sent to Rome. I wish an Etrusc vase could be introduced. It must be handsome and rich ; as to its elegance, anything, particu- larly Etrusc, conducted by your taste cannot fail to be elegant. If a contrivance could be hit on for making it less regular and straight, ... I should be pleased. Yours is charming, but rather too much like a lace. . . . The spangles must be caution'd against and well fastened. There have been some fine conversations since the Emperor has been here. The Grand Duke asked after you of me. . . . The E. has lessened the talk about the D. However I like the D. best : more of engaging and gentlemanlike deportment, and more of the world. . . . By the Bye if you can pick up any vases, of which you have duplicates, lay thenj aside for me, and don't buy them if not well conserv'd and good ; nor many of a shape, a few elegant and good. Adieu my dear Hamilton.'^ Certainly Greville proved the Horatian mixer of pleasure with profit ; and since he, like his far franker uncle, was ever complaining of a narrow purse tantalised by the temptations of viriu, that other trite Horatian maxim, Virtute me involve, would also admirably fit them. Wrapped in their mantles of Virtu, they both bewailed means far too slender for their tastes. The richer Sir William, indeed, expending in antiquities what he re- trenched elsewhere, seems in his correspondence all debt and Correggio ; while Greville removed to his mansion under pretext of its size being a bargain. Each sought ' This eventually enabled ' Old Q.' to succeed to his honours. ' Morrison MS. 14, Rome, March 1769. 38 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON to serve Jthe other, and Greville in his youth persistently charged his uncle to be his diputd?- As time proceeded. Sir William with an ailing wife and a buried daughter,* his nephew ever on his watch-tower for an heiress,* confided to each other their little gallantries, and peccadilloes also. As for Greville, just as in the case of the ' applicee,' ' con- trivances ' were soon ' hit on ' for making him ' less regular and straight' Already, in 1781, this solemn frequenter of new Almack's had acquired the Reynolds picture of ' Emily in the character of Thais,' which had been left on Sir Joshua's hands.* His character was that of a free- living formalist, the reverse of austere, but with all austerity's drawbacks. Yet there were some excellent points in this queer com- pound of the Pharisee and the Publican, something between a Charles and a Joseph Surface. If none was more prone to sin with self-righteousness, and to excuse to himself half-shabbiness as unselfish generosity,^ if none could write more glibly of a 'good heart,' he was not consciously a hypocrite; though par excellence the man of taste rather than the man of feeling. He displayed scrupulous honour in all' money transac- tions, much dignity and reticence, with grace of demeanour (if not always of behaviour) ; independence too of mind, and a public-spirited industry that often kept him sitting on im- portant committees six hours at a stretch. He was a stead- fast friend, and the early death of his Pylades, the brilliant Charles Cathcart, was a real blow to him and an irretrievable loss. He was an ideal trustee. He could say with truth, ' I am a good jobber for a friend, but an awkward one ^ Cf. Morrison MS. 20, Greville from Vienna to Hamilton, April 1769 " ' Little Checille,' Morrison MS. 14. Possibly adopted. ' Cf. Morrison MS. 40, December 20, 1774, where Hamilton recommends him a Miss St. George with income of ;^5ooo and nez retroussi. In May 1778 he wanted to marry Lord Granby's daughter. — Morrison MS. 81. * Cf. Morrison MS. 102, April 3, 1781. I am not satisfied that this was the portrait of 'Emily Pott,' alias Coventry. The face is not unlike Lady Hamilton's. In the Complete Works of Sir Joshua Reynolds (1824), the picture is alleged to be the portrait of Mbs Emily Pott, or Bertie, or Coventry, ' who went to India, where she died.' * In 1773, when ' halving ' purchases with Hamilton, Greville had written : ' This may be selfish, but I will show you it is not so.' — Morrison MS. 29. THE CURTAIN RISES 39 for in)rself.' ^ He ^vas worthy of his uncles confidence, and to the last superintended his affairs and those of others with integrity and tact Nor did he neglect the welfare of Hamilton's tenants at Milford. He was capable of limited disinterestedness as well as of true patriotism. His father's death and his brother's accession to estates and title in 1773 reduced his allowance afresh, and all his resource was needed to repair the deficiency. Socially a disciple of the old-fashioned Chesterfield, and affecting to fiout the opinion of a world that he was far from despising, politically he was a trimming \Mug, but an unbending supporter of all authority and establishment. He throve on coalitions, and lamented with reason the nearing end of that coalition ministry which was still in power when this chapter opened. Such is an epitome of the man who still holds the sm- disami ' Elmily Hart's ' letter in his hands. It is her origin and past that now demand re-investigation. In view of her instinctive independence^ and her native appetite for gloiy, the notion of which grew with her expanding horizon, these tri\-ial beginnings are not unimportant, while some of her cousins played a prominent part in the later scenes of her life. Emily (or ' Emy ') Lyon was bom on April 26 in 1765, the year of her baptism, unless, without reason, we are to assume her ill^timacy. The Xeston parish rasters prove the marriage of her parents to have taken place on June il, 1764. The rumours and fictions about bar early advoitures, seemingly requiring a longer space than ho' extreme girlhood affords, have impelled Mr. Jeafiineson and others to antedate her birth by so much as four j^eais. But many references, both in Greville's letters and Hamil- ton's, with other evidence outside them, entirely tally with ^ MonisQn M& 123, Sept. irS^ — a letter c^ coodolence on 6>e deaith of the fiist Lady Hanuhao. There are seTow much], and now to ask.' 40 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON the date that I have assigned.^ She was christened ' Emily ' (of which ' Emy ' and not ' Amy,' as has been alleged, is the contraction), though from the 'Emy' she may in childhood have been called ' Amy ' at times. The copy of the baptismal register sent to Greville is incorrect, as will be seen in the note below. Her marriage register, it is true, is signed ' Amy Lyons ' according to the Marylebone clerk's information, but this again seems a natural mis- reading of her rapid and often indistinct handwriting for ' Emy Lyon.' *. Her father was Henry Lyon, ' Smith of Nesse,' and her mother Mary Kidd of Hawarden, Flintshire. In their marriage register both sign by marks, although her mother soon afterwards became 'a scholar.' Her father died at Neston . in the year of her birth ; but there is no vestige of her mother's re-marriage to one ' Doggan ' or ' Doggin,' to which has been attributed her after-name of Mrs. Cadogan from the present period in London to that when she became ' La Signora Madre dell'Ambasciatrice,' and the esteemed friend both of Hamilton and of Nelson. 'Emy' has always been described as an only child, but she seems to have had a brother or half-brother, ' Charles.' Thomas Kidd, an old salt and cousin, writing from Greenwich in 1809, to thank for past and beg for future favours, observes : ' I have to inform you that your brother Charles is in Greenwich College and has been here ' For the whole subject cf. Note A. of the Appendix. * The actual regiiter of baptietn in the parish church of Neslon, copied thi» year (1905) by the Vicar, Canon E. C. Turner, is :— ' Emy, dr. of Henry Lyon, Smith of Nch, by Mary his wife. May 12, 1765.' The copy sent to Greville in the aboTe-mentioned letter from ' Emly ' ran j — ' Amy(ly) daughter of Henry Lyon of Ne«s by Mary his wife, bap. tlie 12th of May 1765. The above is truly copied from the (J. Neston Uegislc^r by R, C&riet, Curate,' Evidently the ' E ' in ' Emy ' resembles nn ' A,' as it does in the Marylebone Marriage Register. The ' ly ' is added in another hand, and the moaning is lo show its correspondence to her signature in the letter. The marriage register of her parents in the Neston parish book* is : — 'Henry Lyon and Mary Kidd, June 11, 1764, by banns, by G. Gardener, Curate. X the mark of Henry Lyon. X the mark of Mary Kidd.' The CoTiAGB at Hawarden where Ladv Hamii.tox's grand- mother LIVED, AND where LaDY HaM[I,TOX STAVED IS CHILDHOOD. f'rum a sketch (after a plwtograpli ) by Floretice Holmes. THE CURTAIN RISES 4« aace tt»e 6tli inst';* but I can find no ftnrtfier trace of this 'brotito^,' nor is thefe anytecortl of relatives (m the fi>thor*s side. This Thomas Kidd may well have been the son trf a William Kidd. labourer,* who, as 'widower" in S^traonber 1769 in the Hawarden registos, marrkd one •Maiy Pova.*» And WiUiam Kidd is possibly Lady Hamilton's coostn or uncle, idio was at one time a pnUkan, and who used to ccMnplain that he was * never brought up to work.' If tins be so, som^faing of the paternal strain seems to have descended to the son, wiio, in tiie l^to- just mentioned, excuses his remissness in calBi^ as requested, by the insinuatii^ remark diat 'I dedaie my small doaths are scandoloas, and my hat has tike crown part nearly off' ; while he q>eaks piuntedfy of the attritions of a *Mr. Ii^ram,* ^irfio in turn refers to his 'justifiable character' in *His Majesty's service,' and su gge sts diat, since both the porter of the west gate and the ' roasting cook ' of tilie college are infirm and iU, tiiere b a choice of probable fHomotioos awaitii^ him. In after years it was not tteiy hu^ humble kinsiblk, whom ^le never forsook, that were to impcutune Emma fiu' advancements. The Kidds were mostly saikns or labourers. Lady Hamitt(m''s grandmother, widi whom in girlhood ^le often stayed, and whom she always cared for and cfamshed, dwelt in one of some thatdied cottages, two of which still remain. Tbat Mary Lyon, met Kidd, was a supeiior woman, is dbown by her after-acquirments. Traditicm associates ho- both with dressmaking and with domestic service. If tradition a^ain is trustworthy, she may have been cook in die houseiioki td Lord Halifiajc, who is abo r^xxted to have educated boUi her and her diild. But L»iy Hamilton herself, writing to Mr. Bowoi of Portman Square (and of Merton>' in 1S02 about Chartotte Xdson's education, declares that her own did not begin t^l sjtMs was sevoateen— diat is to say, under GreviDe's ausp ir ei. ^ >knEiie MS. 963. Nov. r. 42 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON I have seen none of her mother's letters before 1800, and it is not improbable that mother and daughter began their education together. She was always an energetic house- keeper and a most resourceful home-physician. Her letters to Emma, to George Rose, and others, are neither ill-worded nor ill-spelt. At Naples and Palermo we shall find her visited by the Queen, The King of Naples was in the December of 1798 to call her an 'angel' for her services during the hurricane attending the royal escape to Palermo,* though he also, if we may trust the Marchioness of Solari, had before dubbed her ' Ruffiana.' « The Duke of Sussex highly esteemed her. Nor can the accomplished Miss Cornelia Knight have found her intolerable, for on the return of Nelson, the Hamiltons, and herself to London after the ill-starred continental tour of 1800, she drove straight ofif and stayed with Mrs. ' Cadogan ' at the hotel in St. James's,* There is no evidence as to how this homely and trustworthy woman came by her grand name. Her second husband, however, may not be a myth ; although the Marchioness of Solari mentions that ' C<7dogan ' was the name by which ' Emma's reputed mother ' caused her to be known at Naples before her marriage ; * and at any rate it is a singular coincidence that Earl Nelson's companion when he went to Calais to fetch Horatia away, after Lady Hamilton's death in 181 5, was to be a Mr. Henry Cadogan, a relation of the late and well-known Mr. Rothery, Only two sisters of Emma's mother are generally mentioned. Both of these seem also to have risen above their station. The one married a Mr. John Moore,* after- wards, it would seem, successful in business at Liverpool, but at one time addressed by Emma at the house of a ' Morrifon MS. 370. " Venice uncUr the Yoke of Prance and Austria, by a Lady of Rank (2 vote., 1824). In punning allusion ateo, perhaps, to the rongh but ready Cardinal Rnfib. ' Miss C. Knight's Diaries. * Venice under the Yoke of France and Autiria, vol. iL p. 66, This is not so, however. She was known as ' Hart ' ; cf, Goethe's Ilalieniiche Reiie, and of. a letter in which she so signs herself at Naples in 1787, excerpted in Sotheby's catalogue for May 17, 1905, and another of May 25, 1787, ' In the Hawarden registers is a tnptismal entry of January 15, 1763, ' Thos., son of Eph. and Cath. Moore.' THE CURTAIN RISES 43 Mr, Potter in Harley Street. The other was a Mrs. Connor, who had six children, all of them long supported by Lady Hamilton : one of them, Sarah, to be the governess both at Merton and Cranwich, was well educated ; another, Cecilia, became an accomplished singer, and also a (though a less capable) preceptress. Ann, the eldest, and Eliza both rose above their sphere, though they proved most ungrateful ; while Charles, who entered the Navy under Nelson's pro- tection, could write an excellent letter, but unfortunately went mad, for, as Lady Hamilton recorded in a very curious statement r^arding four of them, 'there was madness in the family.' 1 Ann's showed itself in eventually asserting that she was Lady Hamilton's daughter, which she certainly was not; indeed, to her must be traced the ridiculous fiction spread by the chronique scandaleuse of the time that Ann, Eliza, and Charles were Greville's three children. Mary, too, was to be popular, and with all her sisters intimate with the whole Nelson and Hamilton family, as well as with Sir William Hamilton's relations.* Lady Hamilton's mother had also a third sister, Ann, who married ' Richard Reynolds, Whitesmith,' in 1774, and whose daughter Sarah (often called ' Reynalds ') also figures as an educated woman, and a beneficiary of her titled cousin, in the Morrison correspondence. She may further have had another brother or cousin, William, an entry regardii^ whom and his wife Mary finds place also in the Hawarden parish books ; and there were also the ' NicoUs,' whom, just before her own bankruptcy, Emma is found continuously maintaining with the rest of her connections.' And finally there remain some traces of a few better-placed family acquaintances, a Mrs. Ladmore and a Mrs. Down- ward.* ^ Monison MS. 959, Richmond, October 16, 1808. There are many allu- sions to Charles Connor both in this collection and in the Nektm Letters. ^ For these details cf. Morrison MS. passim, and the later chapters of this volmne. These Connors who, nnder that name, or as ' Connah ' or ' Conna,' find no less than twenty-eig^t mentions in the Hawarden r^;isters between 1759 and 1765, were possibly the oflfepring of ' Charles and Mary C Morrison MS. 126, June 22, 1784. 'She \i.e. little Emma] n a* wild and thoughtless as somebody when she was a little girl ; so you may guess how that is.' " Nelson's Legacy. THE CURTAIN RISES 45 About the end, then, of 1779 or the beginning of 1780, when Emma was some fifteen years of age, she repaired with her mother to the capital ; and there seems little doubt that she found employment with Dr. Budd, a surgeon of repute, at Chatham Place, near St. James's Market.^ A comrade with her in this service was the talented and refined woman afterwards famed as the actress, Jane Powell, who is not to be confused with the older Harriet Powell, eventually Lady Seaforth. When Sir William and Lady Hamilton returned home in 1800, they attended a performance at Drury Lane, where Emma and her old fellow-servant were the cynosure of an audience ignorant of their former association. When Lady Hamilton was at Southend in the late summer of 1803 she again met her quondam colleague. Pettigrew possessed and quoted a nice letter from her on this occasion.^ It is assuredly not among the least of the many marvels attending Emma's progress that an eminent surgeon should have harboured two such belles in his area. And now Apocrypha is renewed. Gossip has it that she served in a shop ; that she became parlour-maid elsewhere, and afterwards the risky ' companion ' of a vicious ' Lady of Quality ' ; that she had before entered the service of Mr. Lindley, the manager of Drury Lane,* and even that for a space afterwards she ran the gauntlet of degradation. All that can be said is that not a shred of proof exists for these assertions, and that so many events could scarcely have been crowded into the period before 1781 when something like history begins. The Prince Regent, who ' Pettigiew had known Dr. Budd, and his baditions in this regard must be respected. * Pettigrew, vol. ii. p. 594. It runs as follows : — ' Southend. Dear Lady Hamilton, — I cannot forbear writing a line to inform your Ladyship I am at this place, and to tell you how much your absence is r^retted by all ranks of people. Would to Heaven you were here to enliven this at present dull scene. I have performed one night, and have promised to play six, but unless the houses are better, must decline it. Please to remember me most kindly to your mother and every one at Merton. — I am, dear Lady Hamilton, your oblig'd Jane Poweix.' ' Internal evidence, however, favours some association with the theatre. Her language horn the first was that of plays, and to the last she was passionately fond of them. 4 Butter bill, one week, S I )i )) Butcher, .... 7 8i >i 1) Wood, I 28th 9} Pidgeons, . 2 29th )l Mold candles, . 2 3 )) » Gloves, I 6 )) 1) Letters, 4 )i }) Coach, I )» )i Apples, 2\ i> » Poor man, . o\ )> » Mangle, 5 30th It Tea, . . . 12 ii It Sugar, 9 9 a tt Butcher, . S 4 »» » Scotch gaize. 6 31st )) Porter, 2 )) )) Eggs, 4 I St Nov, Magazines, I » » Cotton and needles, 9 }) II Coach, I » II Baker's bill. 4 II M 1) Butter bill, 5 n 11 Milk, 2 3 99 11 Gardener, . 2 2nd II Butcher, 2 6 7i II I Sack of coals, . 3 6 )> II Oysters, 8 )) II Porter, 2 J) II Eggs, 4 it II Handkerchiefs, . I 10 ft II Stockings, , 2 10 3rd II Mrs. Hackwood, 4 12 61 Cf. Morrison MS., Appendix A. •THE FAIR T?;A-MAKER ' 59 The ^Poor Man \d! is a pretty touch, and Greville must have scolded her for it, as it does not recur ; * Mrs. Hack- wood ' was her milliner, and continued to be so throughout the coming Neapolitan days. It is clear from these accounts that all was now ' retrenchment and reform ' ; that all was not plenty, is equally apparent. But Emma was more than satisfied with her lot. Had not her knight- errant (or erring) dropped from heaven? From the first she regarded him as a superior being, and by 1784 she came to love him with intense tenderness ; indeed she idealised him as much as others were afterwards to idealise her. All was not yet, however, wholly peace. Her char- acter was far from being ideal, quite apart from the cir- cumstances which, by comparison, she viewed as almost conjugal. Her petulant temper remained unquelled long after her tamer undertook to ' break it in,' and there were already occasional ' scenes ' against her own interest. Yet how soon and warm-heartedly she repented may be gathered from her letters two years onwards, when she was sea- bathing at Park Gate : ' So, my dearest Greville,' pleads one of them, ' don't think on my past follies, think on my good, little as it has been.' And, before, 'Oh ! Greville, when I think on your goodness, your tender kindness, my heart is so full of gratitude that I want words to express it. But I have one happiness in vew, which I am determined to practice, and that is eveness of temper and stead[i]ness of mind. For endead I have thought so much of your amiable goodness when you have been tried to the utmost, that I will, endead I will manege myself, and try to be like Greville [!]. Endead I can never be like him. But I will do all I can towards it, and I am sure you will not desire more. I think if the time would come over again, I would be differant. But it does not matter. There is nothing like bying expearance. I may be happyer for it hereafter, and I will think of the time coming and not of the past, except to make comparrasons, to shew you what alterations there is for the best. . . . O Greville! think on me with kindness! Think on how many happy days weeks and years — I hope — we may yett pass. . . . And endead, did you but know how much I love you, you wou'd freely for- 6o EMMA, LADY HAMILTON give me any passed quarrels. For I now suffer from them, and one line from you wou'd make me happy. . . ■ But how am I to make you amends ? . . . I will try, I will do my utmost; and I can only regrett that fortune will not put it in my power to make a return for all the kindness and goodness you have showed me.' ^ Conscious of growing gifts, she had chafed by fits and starts at the seclusion of her home — for home it was to her, in her own words, ' though never so homely.' On one occasion (noted by Pettigrew and John Romney too sub- stantially to admit of its being fiction)^ Greville took her to Ranelagh, and was annoyed by her bursting into song before an applauding crowd. His displeasure so affected her that on her return she doffed her finery, donned the plainest attire, and, weeping, entreated him to retain her thus or be quit of her. This episode was the source of Romney's picture ' The Seamstress.' * The accounts omit any mention of amusements, and it must have been Greville alone who (rarely) treated her. She may have seen ' Coxe's Museum,' and the ' balloonists ' Lunardi and Sheldon, the Italian at the Pantheon, the Briton in Foley Gardens.* She may have been present, too, when in the new ' Marylebone Gardens ' Signor Torre gave one of his firework displays of Mount Etna in eruption.^ If so, how odd must she afterwards have thought it, that her husband was to be the leading authority on Italian and Sicilian volcanoes ! But what at once amazed Greville — the paragon of nil admirari — was the transformation that she seriously set herself to achieve, ' She does not,' observed this economist of ease three years later, 'wish for much society, but to retain two or three creditable acquaintances in the neighbourhood she has avoided every appearance of ^ Morrison MS. 126, June 25, 1784. 2 They are confirmed by a passage in one of Greville's letters immediately to be quoted, and which I have there italicised. ' Pettigrew (p. 600) says, ' in a plain cottage dress.' John Romney in his Life sa^s that she robed herself as 'a lady's maid,' and told Romney of the Ranelagh incident. If the costume were really a lady's maid's, this would account for Romney's portrait of her in that character, which may have given rise to the Ickwell Bury tradition, * Morrison MS. 131. " Lysons's Environs of London, 'Marylebone.' 'THE FAIR TEA-MAKER' 6i giddiness, and prides herself on the neatness of her person and the good order of her house; these are habits,' he comments, ' both comfortable and convenient to me. She has vanity and likes admiration ; but she connects it so much with her desire of appearing prudent, that she is more plea£ d with accidental admiration than that of crowds which now distress her. In short, this habit, of three or four years' acquiring, is not a caprice, but is easily to be con- tinued. . , .' ^ ' She never has wished for an improper acquaintance,' he adds a month later. 'She has dropt everyone she thought I could except against, and those of her own choice have been in a line of prudence and plain- ness which, tho' I might have wished for, I could not have proposed to confine her [to].' * Among the 'reputable' acquaintances were his brother and future executor, Colonel the Honourable Robert Fulke- Greville, some of his kinsmen the Cathcarts, a Colonel Hartley who was to remain friendly in Naples, the Honourable Heneage Legge, whom we shall find meeting her just before her marriage, and oftener the artist Gavin Hatlciilton, Sir William's namesake and kinsman, who at once put Emma on his ' list of favourites,' reminding him, as she did, of a Roman beauty that he had once known, but superior to her, he said, in the lines of her beautiful and uncommon mouth.^ Her main recreation, besides her study to educate herself,* were those continual visits to Romney, which indeed assisted it. His Diaries contain almost three hundred records of ' Mrs. Hart's ' sittings during these four years, most of them at an early hour, for Emma, except in illness, was never a late riser. One portrait of her, unmen- tioned in our previous list, represents her reading the Gazette with a startled expression. It may well have been painted from memory shortly after she left England in March 1786, and refer to the attempt by Margaret Nicholson in the August of that year on the life of the King. ' While,' 1 Morrison MS. 137, May S, 1785. ° ^i^- 138- » Ibid. 139, Nov. II, 1785. * ' Her only resources,' writes John Romney, ' were reading and music at home, and sitting for pictures.' In the Accounts are regular entries of 'Magazines.' \ 62 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON remarks the sententious John Romney, ' she lived under Greville's protection, her conduct was in every way correct, except only in the unfortunate situation in which she hap- pened to be placed by the concurrence of peculiar circum- stances such as might perhaps in a certain degree be admitted as an extenuation. . . . Here is a young female of an artless and playful character, of extraordinary Elegance and symmetry of form, of a most beautiful coun- tenance glowing with health and animation, turned upon the wide world. ... In all Mr. Romney's intercourse with her she was treated with the utmost respect, and her demeanour fully entitled her to it.' He adds that she ' sat ' for the ' face ' merely and ' a slight sketch of the attitude,' and that in the 'Bacchante' he painted her countenance alone ; while Hayley, in his Life of the painter, speaks of ' the high and constant admiration ' with which Romney contemplated not only the ' personal ' but the ' mental endowments of this lady, and the gratitude he felt for many proofs' of her friendship,' as expressed in his letters. ' The talents,' he continues, 'which nature bestowed on the fair Emma, led her to delight in the two kindred arts of music and painting ; in the first she acquired great practical ability ; for the second she had exquisite taste, and such expressive powers as could furnish to an historical painter an inspiring model for the various characters either delicate or sublime. . . . Her features, like the language of Shakespeare, could exhibit all the gradations of every passion with a most fascinating truth and felicity of ex- pression. Romney delighted in observing the wonderful command she possessed over her eloquent features.' He called her his ' inspirer.' ^ To Romney, as we have already seen, she ' first opened her heart.' At Romney's she met those literary and artistic lights that urged her native intelligence into imitation. A sketch by Romney of his studio displays her seated as his model for the ' Spinstress ' by her spinning-wheel. A figure entering and smiling is Greville ; of two others seated at a table, the one appeal- 1 Cf. Hayley's letter to her from Felpham of May 17, 1804, cited later in this work, and given by Pettigrew, vol. ii. p. 596, which proves her to have been a prompter and suggester as well as a renderer. K Z s -^ O lA 2 i-^ "I ZtO z ft: w f o o w > a < IS 'THE FAIR TEA-MAKER' 63 ing to her would seem to be Hayley, to whom she always gratefully confessed her obligations. William Hayley, the ' Hermit ' of Eartham, the close ally both of Romney and Cowper, must have been far more interesting in his conversation than his books, though his Triumphs of Temper created a sensation now difficult to understand. He was a clever, egotistical eccentric, who successively parted from two wives with whom he yet con- tinued to correspond in affectionate friendship. Curiously enough, Hayley's rhymed satirical comedies ^ are much the best of his otherwise stilted verses. He must have remem- bered Hamilton and Greville when, in one of them, he makes 'Mr. Beril' account for his ownership of a lovely Greek statue : ' I owe it to chance, to acknowledge the truth, And a princely and brave Neapolitan youth. Whom I luckily saved in a villainous strife From the dagger of jealousy aimed at his life' : and when his ' Bijou ' ironically observes to ' Varnish ': ' I protest your remark is ingenious and new. You have g^sto in morals as well as virtu' : His unfamiliar sonnet on Romney's 'Cassandra' may be here cited, since it may have suggested to Greville his estimate of Emma — ' piece of modern virtu ' : ' Ye fond idolaters of ancient art, Who near Parthenope with curious toil, Forcing the rude sulphureous rocks to part. Draw from the greedy earth her buried spoil Of antique entablature ; and from the toil Of time restoring some fair form, acquire A fancied jewel, know 'tis but a foil To this superior gem of richer fire. In Romney's tints behold the Trojan maid, See beauty blazing in prophetic ire. From palaces engulphed could earth retire. And show thy works, Apelles, undeca/d. E'en thy Campaspe would not dare to vie With the wild splendour of Cassandra's eye.' 1 Tie Happy Prescription (1784) and The Two Connoisseurs are brilliant vers de sociite. For Horace Walpole's poor account of his authorship, cf. Letters, vol. viii. pp. 235, 236, 251. 64 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON In a late letter to Lady Hamilton the poet assures her that an unpublished ode was wholly inspired by her, and there are traces of her influence even in his poor tragedies. But since 'Serena' influenced her often, it may be of interest to single out a few lines from the Triumphs of Temper (composed some years before its author first met her) as likelier to have arrested her attention than his triter commonplaces about ' spleen ' and ' cheerfulness ' : ' Free from ambitious pride and envious care, To love and to be loved was all her prayer.' 'Th' imperishable wealth of sterling love.' . . . She's everything by starts and nothing long. But in the space of one revolving hour Flies thro' all states of poverty and power. All forms on whom her veering mind can pitch. Sultana, Gipsy, Goddess, nymph, and witch. At length, her soul with Shakespeare's magic fraught, The wand of Ariel fixed her roving thought.' And ' But mild Serena scorn'd the prudish play To wound warm love with frivolous delay ; Nature's chaste child, not Affectation's slave. The heart she meant to give, she frankly gave' The August of 1782 brought about an event decisive for Emma's future — the death of the first Lady Hamilton, the Ambassador's marriage with whom in 1757 had been mainly one of convenience, though it had proved one also of com- fort and esteem.^ She was a sweet, tranquil soul of rapt holiness, what the Germans call ^ Eine schone Seele,' and she worshipped the very earth that her light-hearted husband, far nearer to it than she was, trod on. He had set out as a young captain of foot, who, in his own words, had ' known ^ Cf. his own avowal, Morrison MS. 95, where he tells Greville : ' You have been acquainted with beauty enough to know that that alone cannot afford lasting happiness. A disagreeable rich Devil, the Devil himself could not have tempted me to marry, but I have realy [sic\ found a lasting comfort in having married {something against my inclination) a virtuous, good-tempered woman with a little independent fortune, to which we cou'd fly shou'd all other depen- dencies fail, and live decently without being obliged to any one.' 'THE FAIR TEA-MAKER' 65 the pinch of poverty' ; but during the whole twenty-five years of their union she had never once reproached him, and had dedicated to him all ' that long disease ' she called ' her life.' So far, though intimate with the young Sicilian King and friendly with the Queen, Hamilton had weighed little in diplomacy. In a sprightly letter to the Earl of Dartmouth some six years earlier,^ he observes : ' It is singular but certainly true that I am become more a ministre defamille at this court than ever were the ministers of France, Spain, and Vienna. Whenever there is a good shooting-party H.S. Majesty is pleased to send for me, and for some months past I have had the honour of dining with him twice or three times a week, nay sometimes I have breakfasted, dined, and supped ... in their private party without any other minister.' ^ He next descants on his exceptional opportunities of helping the English in Naples. He hits off a certain Lady Boyd among them as 'Like Mr. Wilkes, but she has [such] a way of pushing forward that face of hers and filling every muscle of it with good humour, that her homeliness is forgot in a moment ' ; and he concludes with the usual complaint that — unlike his pre- decessor. Sir William Lynch — he has not yet been made 'Privy Councillor.'* So dissatisfied was he that in 1774 he had tried hard on one of his periodical home visits to exchange his ambassadorship at Naples for one at Madrid ; and at the present time science, pictures, archaeology, sport and gallantry occupied his constant leisure — indeed he was more of a Consul than of an Ambassador. General Acton's advent, however, as Minister of War and Marine in 1779 proved a passing stimulus to his dormant energy. If a dawdler, he was never a trifler; and he was uniformly courteous and kind-hearted. His frank geniality recom- mended him as bear-leader to the many English visitors ^ Hist. MS. Commission, Dartmouth Papers, vol. iii. p. 224. Caserta, Jan. 16, 1776, and cf. p. 238. The early letters to Greville in the Morrison MS. concern art, politics, business, and sport. ' Cf. Morrison MS. 82, where he recounts on February 9, 1772, how he played ' Bisilis ' with their Majesties. This letter contains his first mention of Acton the Premier, who succeeded to his English baronetcy in 1791 ; and cf. also ibid. 92, 1780, and 100, March 13, 1781. » He had to wait till 1791, the year of his marriage. E 66 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON who flocked annually to Naples,^ often stumbled lightly into scrapes that caused him infinite trouble,^ and prompted his humorous regret that Magna Charta contained no clause forbidding Britons to emigrate. It was not till Emma dawned on his horizon that he woke up in earnest to the duties of his office. His wife made every effort, so far as her feeble health admitted, to grace his hospitalities. She shared his own taste for music, and sang to the harpsichord before the Court of Vienna. The sole regret of her unselfish piety was that he remained a worldling. She studied to spare him every vexation and intrusion ; and while he pursued his long rambles, sporting, artistic, or sentimental, she sat at home praying for her elderly Pierrot's eternal welfare. Her example dispensed with precepts, and hoped to win her wanderer back imperceptibly. How little she deserved Greville's description of her as merely 'a raw- boned Scotchwoman ' ^ may be gleaned from some of the last jottings in her diary and her last letters to her husband :— ' How tedious are the hours I pass in the absence of the beloved of my heart, and how tiresome is every scene to me. There is the chair in which he used to sit, I find him not there, and my heart feels a pang, and my foolish eyes overflow with tears. The number of years we have been married, instead of diminishing my love have increased it to that degree and wound it up with my existence in such a manner that it cannot alter. How strong are the efforts I have made to conquer my feelings, but in vain. . . . No one but those who have felt it can know the miserable anxiety of an undivided love. When he is present, every object has a different appearance ; when he is absent, how lonely, how isolated I feel. ... I return home, and there the very dog stares me in the face and seems to ask for its beloved master. . . . Oh! blessed Lord God and Saviour, be Thou mercifully pleas'd to guard and pro- tect him in all dangers and in all situations. Have ' Cf. Lord Bruce's tribute as early as 1769, Morrison MS. 16. * The Duke of Hamilton, for insta^ice, and ' Sir Harry ' in the spring of 1777. Morrison MS. 6$. ' Morrison MS. 126, Emma's quotation. The Right Honourable Sir William Hamilton, K.C.B. After a rare ettgrmnng, probably by Gravelot. •THE FAIR TEA-MAKER' 67 mercy upon us both, oh Lord, and turn our hearts to Thee.* 'A few days, nay a few hours . . . may render me in- capable of writing to you. . . . But how shall I express my love and tenderness to you, dearest of earthly blessings. My only attachment to this world has been my love to you, and you are my only regret in leaving it. My heart has followed your footsteps where ever you went, and you have been the source of all my joys. I would have preferred beggary with you to kingdoms without you,^ but all this must have an end — forget and forgive my faults and remember me with kindness. I entreat you not to suffer me to be shut up after I am dead till it is absolutely neces- sary. Remember the promise you have made me that your bones should lie by mine when God shall please to call you, and leave directions in your will about it' ^ That promise was kept, and the man of the world sleeps by the daughter of heaven, re-united in the Pembrokeshire vault. A probably adopted daughter — Cecilia — who is mentioned in the greetings of early correspondents, had died some seven years before. Could any Calypso replace such pure devotion? Yet Calypsos there had been already — among their number the divorced lady who became Margravine of Anspach, the 'sweet little creature qui a Vhonneur de me plaire' 't^ a 'Madame Tschudy'* so early as 1769; a 'Lady A.,' contrasted by Greville in 1785 with Emma; and, perhaps platonically, those gifted artists Diana Beauclerk, once Lady Boling- broke, and Mrs. Damer, who was to sculpture one of the two busts of Nelson done from the life.^ In England as well 1 It is strange that the second Lady Hamilton, long before she became so, makes use of a similar expression with regard to Greville. Lady Strafford of Queen Anne's time also employs this phrase. ^ Morrison MS. Ii6, Ii8. The last, in July 1782, ibid. 120, I have no space to quote, but it is fully as affecting. * Lady Craven. Cf. Morrison MS. 30, June 17, 1773. « Cf. Morrison MS. 20, 1769. ^ So late as 1809 the Hon. Anne Seymour Damer (1748-1828) wrote most warmly to Lady Hamilton, begging her influence to have an engraving of this bust included in a Life of Nelson. In the course of a long letter she says : 'To you, my dear Lady Hamilton, and to my kind friend Sir William, you know I owe this favour [of '* the immortal Hero's having sat to me "], and 68 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON as Naples flirtation was the disorder of the day. Yfet about Sir William there must have been a charm of demeanour, a calm of ease and good nature, and a certain worldly unselfishness which could fasten such spiritual love more surely than the love profane. He was a sincere worshipper of beauty, both in art and nature ; while Goethe himself respected his discriminating taste.^ He was a Stoic-Epicurean, a 'philosopher.'^ His confession of faith and outlook upon existence are well outlined in a letter to Emma of 1792 which deserves attention. ' My study of antiquities has kept me in constant thought of the perpetual fluctuation of everything. The whole art is, really, to live all the days of our life ; and not, with anxious care, disturb the sweetest hour that life affords — which is, the present. Admire the Creator, and all His works to us incomprehensible ; and do all the good you can upon earth ; and take the chance of eternity without dismay.' ^ Absent since 1778, he came over at the close of 1782 to bury his wife.* It is just possible that even then he may have caught a flying glimpse of the girl whom he was to style two years later ' the fair tea-maker of Edgware Row.' Greville, of course, was punctual in condolence : ' You have no idea how shocked I was. . . . Yet when I consider the long period of her indisposition and the weakness of her frame, I ought to have been prepared to hear it. I am glad that her last illness was not attended with extra- ordinary suffering, and I know you so well that I am sure you will think with affection and regret, as often as the blank which must be felt after 25 years society shall call her to your memory, and it will not be a small con- solation that to the last you shew'd that kindness and you will not wonder at my ambition and anxiety that such a circumstance, which I know so well how to value, shou'd be recorded, . . . and that my name should thus be [if I may so term it) joined to the most brilliant name England ever gave birth to.' Cf. Messrs. Sotheby's catalogue for July 8, 1905. As Conway's daughter she was Horace Walpole's favourite. Cf. Letters, vol. viii. p. 76. The sole other bust of him from life is Flaxman's. ' Cf. the Italienische Reise. 2 Morrison MS. 370, January 7, 1799. = Nelson Letters (1814), vol. ii. p. 173. • The accounts of the funeral expenses exist and were sold at Sotheby's in May 1905. He was an affectionate brother both to Frederick and Anne. 'THE FAIR TEA-MAKER' 69 attention to her which she deserved, 1 have often quoted you ^ for that conduct which few have goodness of heart or principle to imitate! He had hoped to hasten to his dearest Hamilton's side in the crisis of affliction, but his brother's afTairs, the troubles of trusteeships, and the bequest by Lord Seaforth of a rare cameo, alas ! intervened, and there- fore he could not come.^ So Mount Vesuvius- Hamilton hurried to Mahomet-Greville, and doubtless, after a little virtii and more business, returned for the autumn season at Naples and his winter sport at Caserta. But meanwhile Greville grew ruffled and out-at-elbows. He was once more member for his family borough. He needed larger emolument, yet the coalition was on the wane. For a brief interval it returned, and Greville breathed again, pocketing a small promotion in the general scramble for office,^ In 1783, however, the great Pitt entered on his long reign, and Greville's heart sank once more. His post, how- ever, was confirmed, despite his conscientious disapproval * of reforms for England and for Ireland, and new India bills in the interval.* Still, his tastes were so various that even now he pondered if, after all, an heiress of ton (none of your parvenues) were not the only way out ; and, pending decision, he went on collecting crystals, exchanging pic- tures of saints, and lecturing Emma on the convenances — perhaps the least extravagant and most edifying pastime of all. Every August he toured in Warwickshire after his own, and to Milford and Pembrokeshire after his uncle's affairs (for Milford was being ' developed ') ; nor was he the man to begrudge his ileve a few weeks' change in the dull season during his absence. In 1784 she was to require it more than usual, for sea-baths had been ordered, while ' To Emma? ' Morrison MS. 121, Sept. 24, 1782. ' Cf. Sir W. H.'s allusion in Morrison MS. 122, April 29, 1783. * In March 1785 he writes to Sir William : ' I believe P. means to act for the best and to remain as long as he can, but it does not seem that he rests entirely on the court, by his declaring for a reform without the general support of the administration and contrary to the interests of the crown. . . . The India bill is not to be compared to the effect of this measure, and I am curious to see the event. I of course never courted favor by the sacrifice of my decided opinion ; I shall therefore uniformly oppose it.' — Morrison MS. 135. * Cf. Greville's moderate letter to Fox. — Morrison MS. 123. 70 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON her first thought was then to be for her ' little Emma,'^ now being tended at Hawarden. In the early summer of this very year Sir William Hamilton had reappeared as widower, and crossed the threshold of Edgware Row to the flurry, doubtless, of the little handmaidens, whose successors, 'Molly Dring and ' Nelly Gray,' were so regularly paid their scanty wages, as registered in the surviving accounts. The courtly connoisseur was enraptured. Never had he beheld anything more Greek, any one more naturally accomplished, more uncommon. What an old slyboots had this young nephew been these last two years, to have concealed this hidden treasure while he detailed every- thing else m his letters ! The demure rogue, then, was a suburban amateur with a vengeance ! The antiquarian- Apollo, carrying with him a new work on Etruscan vases, and a new tract on volcanic phenomena, flattered himself that here were volcanoes and vases indeed. Here were Melpomene and Thalia, and Terpsichore and Euterpe and Venus, all combined and breathing. Did he not boast the secret of perpetual youth? After all, he was only fifty- four, and he looked ten years younger than his age. He would at least make the solemn youngster jealous. Not that he was covetous ; his interest was that of a father, a collector, an uncle. The mere lack of a ring debarred him from being her uncle in reality. ' My uncle,' she should call him. Greville's amusement was not quite unclouded ; he laughed, but laughed uneasily. To begin with, he believed himself his uncle's heir, but as yet 'twas ' not so nominated in the bond.' Sir William might well re-marry. There was Lord Middleton's second daughter in Portman .Square, a twenty thousand pounder, weighing on the scales, a fish worthy of Greville's own rod. But the Court of Naples, an alliance with a widower kinsman of the Hamiltons, the Athols, the Abercorns, and the Grahams, enriched too by recent death, were solidities that might well outweigh his ' Born about February 1782, after her mother's invitation by Greville. My reasons for disagreeing with Mr. JeafFreson's view as to the identity of this child are given in Note C. of the Appendix. 'THE FAIR TEA-MAKER' 71 paltry pittance of six hundred a year.^ And i/the widower re-married ? — As for Emma, it was of course absurd to con- sider her. She adored her Greville, and should uncle William choose to play light father in this little farce, he could raise no objection. Emma herself felt flattered that one so celebrated and learned should deign to be just a nice new friend. He was so amiable and attentive ; so discerning of her gifts ; so witty too, and full of anecdote. This was no musty scholar, but a good-natured man of the very wide world, far wider than her pent-in corner of it Indeed, he was a 'dear.' And then he laughed so heartily when she mimicked Greville's buckram brother, or that rich young coxcomb Willoughby, who had wooed her in vain already ; no giddy youths for her. Was not her own matchless Greville a man of accomplishments, a bachelor of arts and sciences, a master of sentences ? The uncle was worthy of the nephew, and so she was ' his oblidged humble servant, or affectionate' niece 'Emma,' whichever he ' liked the best.'^ And in her heart of hearts already lurked a little scheme. Her child, the child to whom Greville had been so suddenly, so gently kind, and after which she yearned, was with her grandmother. After she had taken the tiny companion to Parkgate, and bathed it there, why should not her divinity permit the mother to bring it home for good to Edgware Row? It would form a new and touching tie between them. The plan must not be broached till she could report on 'little Emma's' progress, but surely then he would not have the heart to deny her. Some evidence allows the guess that she had confided her desire to Sir William, and that he had favoured and forwarded her suit with Greville. And so she left the smoke and turmoil, hopeful and trustful. Mother and child would at length be reunited under purer skies and by the wide expanse of sea. All the mother ' His income does not seem to have exceeded this sum (till 1794), and his certain annuity was only ;^Soo. — Morrison MS. 138. ' Cf. Morrison MS. 143. Most of the foregoing may be gathered from the shortly subsequent correspondence. On September 5 Hamilton met Horace Walpole at dinner at ' Mrs. Garrick's.' He was 'returning to the kingdom of cinders.' — Letters, vol. viii. p. 502. 72 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON within her stirred and called aloud ; her heart was ready to 'break' at the summons. Fatherly Sir William saw her off as proxy for her absent Greville, whom he was to join, the happy man. 'Tell Sir William everything you can,' she wrote immediately, ' and tell him I am sorry our situation prevented me from giving him a kiss, , . . but I will give him one, and entreat it if he will accept it. Ask him how I looked, and let him say something kind to me when you write.' — 'Pray, my dear Greville, do lett me come home as soon as you can ; . . . indeed I have no pleasure or happiness. I wish I could not think on you ; but if I was the greatest lady in the world, I should not be happy from you ; so don't lett me stay long.' ^ Her first Parkgate letters, in the form of diaries,^ speak for themselves. After she had fetched away little Emma 'Hart'* from her grandmother's at Hawarden, she stopped at Chester. She had fixed on Abergele, but it proved too distant, fashionable, and dear.* ' High Lake ' (Hoylake) was too uncomfortable ; it had ' only 3 houses,' and not one of them ' fit for a Christian.' With her ' poor Emma ' she had bidden farewell to all her friends ; she had taken her from ' a good home ' ; she hoped she would prove worthy of his ' goodness to her, and to her mother.' Her recipe-book had been forgotten ; — ' parting with you made me so unhappy.' — ' My dear Greville, don't be angry, but I gave my gran mother 5 guineas, for she had laid some [money] out on her, and I would not take her awhay shabbily. But Emma shall pay you. . . . My dear Greville, I wish I was with you. God bless you ! ' By mid-June she was installed ' in the house of a Laidy, whose husband is at sea. She and her granmother live together, and we board with her at present. . . . The price is high, but they don't lodge anybody without board- ing ; and as it is comfortable, decent, and quiet, I thought it wou'd not ruin us, till I could have your oppionon, which 1 Morrison MS. 125, June 15, 1784. " Morrison MS. 124-128, June and July 1784. ' She is so called in the school-bills which Greville forwarded in December 1791 to Naples. Morrison MS. 201. The name of ' Carew ' was assumed after- wards. Cf. Appendix, Part i. Note C. * ' 2 guineas and a half a week. 'THE FAIR TEA-MAKER' 73 I hope to have freely and without restraint, as, believe me, you will give it to one who will allways be happy to follow it, lett it be what it will ; as I am sure you wou'd not lead me wrong. And though my little temper may have been sometimes high, believe me, I have allways thought you right in the end when I have come to reason. I bathe, and find the water very soult. Here is a good many laidys batheing, but I have no society with them, as it is best not. So pray, my dearest Greville, write soon, and tell me what to do, as I will do just what you think proper; and tell me what to do with the child. For she is a great romp, and I can hardly master her. . . . She is tall, [has] good eys and brows, and as to lashes, she will be passible ; but she has overgrown all her cloaths. I am makeing and mending all as I can for her. . . . Pray, my dear Greville, do lett me come home, as soon as you can ; for I am all most broken- hearted being from you. . . . You don't know how much I love you, and your behaiver to me, when we parted, was so kind, Greville, I don't know what to do. . . .' And her next epistle seems to echo under circumstances far removed the voice of the first Lady Hamilton : — ' How teadous does the time pass awhay till I hear from you. Endead I should be miserable if I did not recollect on what happy terms we parted — parted, yess, but to meet again with tenfould happiness. . . . Would you think it, Greville ? Emma — the wild, unthinking Emma, is a grave, thoughtful phylosopher. 'Tis true, Greville, and I will convince you I am, when I see you. But how I am runing on. I say nothing abbout this guidy, wild girl of mine. What shall we do with her, Greville ? . . . Wou'd you believe, on Sattarday we had a little quarel, . . . and I did slap her on her hands, and when she came to kiss me and make it up, I took her on my lap and cried. Pray, do you blame me or not ? Pray tell me. Oh, Greville, you don't know how I love her. Endead I do. When she comes and looks in my face and calls m.e " mother," endead I then truly am a mother, for all the mother's feelings rise at once, and tels me I am or ought to be a mother,/^?/' she has a wright to my protection; and she shall have it as long as I can, and I will do all in my power to prevent her falling into the error her poor miser- 74 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON able mother fell into. But why do I say miserable ? Am not I happy abbove any of my sex, at least in my situation ? Does not Greville love me, or at least like me ? Does not he protect me ? Does not he provide for me ? Is not he a father to my child? Why do I call myself miserable? No, it was a mistake, and I will be happy, chearful and kind, and do all my poor abbility will lett me, to return the fatherly goodness and protection he has shewn. Again, my dear Greville, the recollection of past scenes brings tears in my eyes. But the[y] are tears of happiness. To think of your goodness is too much. But once for all, Greville, I will be grateful. Adue. It is near bathing time, and I must lay down my pen, and I won't finish till I see when the post comes, whether there is a letter. He comes in abbout one o'clock. I hope to have a letter to-day. ... I am in hopes I shall be very well. . . . But, Greville, I am oblidged to give a shilling a day for the bathing horse and whoman, and twopence a day for the dress. It is a great expense, and it fretts me when I think of it. . . . At any ralfe it is better than paying the docter. But wright your oppinion truly, and tell me what to do. Emma is crying because I won't come and bathe. So Greville, adue till after I have dipt. May God bless you, my dearest Greville, and believe me, faithfully, affectionately, and truly yours only'- — ' And no letter from my dear Greville. Why, my dearest G., what is the reason you don't wright? You promised to wright before I left Hawarden. . . . Give my dear kind love and compliments to Pliney,^ and tell him I put you under his care, and he must be answereble for you to me, wen I see him. . . . Say everything you can to him for me, and tell him I shall always think on him with gratitude, and remem- ber him with pleasure, and shall allways regret loesing [h]is good comppany. Tell him I wish him every happi- ness this world can afford him, and that I will pray for him and bless him as long as I live. . . . Pray, my dear Greville, lett me come home soon. I have been 3 weeks, and if I stay a fortnight longer, that will be S weeks, you know ; and then the expense is above 2 guineas a week with washing . . . and everything. . .' ' With what impatience 1 Sit W. Hamilton. 'THE FAIR TEA-MAKER' 75 do I sett down to wright till I see the postman. But sure I shall have a letter to-day. Can you, Greville — no, you can't — have forgot your poor Emma allready? Tho' I am but a few weeks absent from you, my heart will not one moment leave you. I am allways thinking of you, and cou'd allmost fancy I hear you, see you ; . . . don't you remember how you promised? Don't you recollect what you said at parting ? how you shou'd be happy to see me again ? ' A belated answer arrived at last ; Emma was very grate- ful. But this was not the letter for which she looked. What she wanted was omniscience's permission for 'little Emma' to share their home, to let her be a mother indeed. After a week two ' scolding ' notes were his reply. ' Little Emma ' in Edgware Row was not on Greville's books at all. He would charge himself with her nurture elsewhere, but the child must be surrendered ; he certainly knew how to ' play' his 'trout.' Emma meekly kissed her master's rod. Greville being Providence, resignation was wisdom as well as duty. She was not allowed to remain a mother : — ' I was very happy, my dearest Greville, to hear from you as your other letter vex'd me ; you scolded me so. But it is over, and I forgive you. . . . You don't know, my dearest Greville, what a pleasure I have to think that ray poor Emma will be comfortable and happy . . . and if she does but turn out well, what a happyness it will be. And I hope she will for your sake. I will teach her to pray for you as long as she lives ; and if she is not grateful and good it won't be my fault. But what you say is very true : a bad disposition may be made good by good example, and Greville wou'd not put her anywheer to have a bad one. I come into your whay athinking ; hollidays spoils children. It takes there attention of[f] from there scool, it gives them a bad habbit. When they have been a month and goes back this does not pleas them, and that is not wright, and the[y] do nothing but think when the[y] shall go back again. Now Emma will never expect what she never had. But I won't think. All my happiness now is Greville, and to think that he loves me. ... I have said all I have to say about Emma, yet only she gives her duty. ... I have no society with anybody but the mistress of the house, and her 76 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON mother and sister. The latter is a very genteel yong lady, good-nattured, and does everything to pleas me. But still I wou'd rather be at home, if you was there. I follow the old saying, home is home though 'tis ever so homely. . . . P.S. — . . . I bathe Emma, and she is very well and grows. Her hair will grow very well on her forehead, and I don't think her nose will be very snub. Her eys is blue and pretty. But she don't speak through her nose, but she speaks countryfied, but she will forget it. We squable sometimes ; still she is fond of me, and endead I love her. For she is sensible. So much for Beauty. Adue, I long to see you.' ^ Empowered by the Sultan of Edgware Row, the two Emmas, to their great but fleeting joy, were suffered to return in the middle of July. Sir William and his nephew were still on their provincial tour, when Emma, who fell ill again in town, thus addressed him for the last time before his own return. It shall be our closing excerpt : — ' I received your kind letter last night, and, my dearest Greville, I want words to express to you how happy it made me. For I thought I was like a lost sheep, and everybody had forsook me. I was eight days confined to my room and very ill, but am, thank God, very well now, and a great deal better for your kind instructing letter, and I own the justice of your remarks. You shall have your appartment to yourself, you shall read, wright, or sett still, just as you pleas ; for I shall think myself happy to be under the seam roof with Greville, and do all I can to make it agreable, without disturbing him in any pursuits that he can follow, to employ himself in at home or else whare. For your absence has taught me that I ought to think myself happy if I was within a mile of you ; so as I cou'd see the place as contained you I shou'd think myself happy abbove my sphear. So, my dear G., come home. . . . You shall find 1 Morrison MS. 128. My contention is that this child was the only 'little Emma ' born about March 1782. For the whole subject, cf. Note C. of the Appendix. It should be remembered with regard to such expressions about her as might warrant her being older than two and a half, that, like her mother, and the little Horatia twenty-one years later, she may well have looked and spoken above her years. 'THE FAIR TEA-MAKER' >j7 me good, kind, gentle, and affectionate, and everything you wish me to do I will do. For I will give myself a fair trial, and follow your advice, for I allways think it wright. . . . Don't think, Greville, this is the wild fancy of a moment's consideration. It is not. I have thoughroly considered everything in my confinement, and say nothing now but what I shall practice. ... I have a deal to say to you when I see you. Oh, Greville, to think it is 9 weeks since I saw you. I think I shall die with the pleasure of seeing you. ... I am all ways thinking of your goodness. . . . Emma is very well, and is allways wondering why you don't come home. She sends her duty to you. . . . Pray, pray come as soon as you come to town. Good by, God bless you ! Oh, how I long to see you.' ^ It should be at once remarked that Greville conscien- tiously performed his promise. He put 'little Emma' to a good school, and several traces of her future survive.^ Meanwhile, having won his point, and having also 'pre- pared' her mind for another separation, of which she little dreamed, he came back to his bower of thankful worship and submissive meekness. He can scarcely have played often with the child, whose benefactor he was — a dancing- master, so to speak, of beneficence, ever standing in the first position of correct deportment. In August he bade fare- well to his indulgent uncle, whom, indeed, he had 'reason' to remember with as much ' gratitude and affection ' as Emma did.* Romney was commissioned to paint her as the ' Bac- chante ' for the returning Ambassador, who had reassured his nephew about the distant future. He had appointed him his heir, and offered to stand security if he needed to borrow. He had also joined Greville's other friends in advising him to bow to the inevitable and console his purse with an heiress.* Whether he also had already contem- plated an exchange seems more than doubtful. But the secretive Greville had already begun to harbour an idea, ^ Morrison MS. 129, August 10, 1784. " Cf. Appendix, Note C. s Morrison MS. 131. * The 'reasonable plan.' Cf. Greville's letter cited at the opening of the next chapter. 78 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON soon turned into a plan, and perpetually justified as a piece of benevolent unselfishness. While the ship bears the un- wedded uncle to softer climes and laxer standards, while Greville, with a sigh of relief, pores over his accounts, we may well exclaim of these two knowing and obliging materialists, par nobile fratrum — a noble brace of brothers indeed ! CHAPTER IV 'WHAT GOD, AND GREVILLE, PLEASES' To March 1786 ' . . . I REALY do not feel myself in a situation to accept favours.' ' I depend on you for some cristals in lavas, etc., from Sicily.' These sentences from two long epistles to his uncle at the close of 1784 are keynotes to Greville's tune of mind. With the new year he became rather more explicit : — ' Emma is very grateful for your remembrance. Her picture shall be sent by the first ship — I wish Romney yet to mend the dog.^ She certainly is much improved since she has been with me. She has none of the bad habits which giddiness and inexperience encouraged, and which bad choice of company introduced. ... I am sure she is attached to me, or she would not have refused the offers which I know have been great ; and such is her spirit that on the least slight or expression of my being tired or burthened by her, I am sure she would not only give up the connexion, but would not even accept a farthing for future assistance.' Here let us pause a moment. In the ' honest bargain ' shortly to be struck after much obliquity, Greville's shabbi- ness consists, if we reflect on the prevailing tone of his age and set, not so much in the disguised transfer — a mean trick in itself — as in the fact that, while he had no reproach to make and was avowedly more attached to her than ever, he practised upon the very disinterestedness and fondness that he praised. Had he been unable to rely on them with ' In the first picture of the ' Bacchante.' The second was with a goat. 79 82 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON her. ... I am not a dog in the manger. If I could go on I would never make this arrangement [the true term at last !], but to be reduced to a standstill and involve myself in distress ['real distress'] further than I could extricate myself, and then to be unable to provide for her at all, would make me miserable from thinking myself unjust to her. And as she is too young and handsome to retire into a convent or the country [the alternative is curious], and is honorable and honest and can be trusted [for ' Brutus is an honourable man '], after reconciling myself to the necessity I consider where she could be happy. I know you thought me jealous of your attention to her ; I can assure you Hter conduct entitles her more than ever to my confidence [surely a handsome testimonial from the last situation !]. Judge, then, as you know my satisfaction in looking on a modern piece of virtu, if I do not think you a second self, in thinking that by placing her within your reach, I render a necessity which would otherwise be heartbreaking [if heart there were to break] tolerable and even comforting.' Having prepared the ground, he wrote again in the following May, ' without affectation or disguise.' He protested that his ' delicacy ' prevented him writing on the subject while ' Lady Craven ' was by to be Sir WilHam's flame, or ' Mrs. D '[ickenson] ^ to play the dragon. The ' odds ' in their own two lives were not ' pro- portioned to the difference ' of their years ; he was very ' sensible ' of his uncle's intentions towards him. At what followed Sir William must have smiled. The real reason for all his fencing emerges. Sir William's joint security on the pledge of half his minerals, the assur- ance that he was made his heir, were mere credentials to be shown by Greville to a prospective father-in-law. ' Suppose a lady of 30,000 was to marry me,' and so forth — a vista of married fortune. Even now the name of the lady thus honoured was withheld ; but Hamilton must have known it perfectly : ' . . . If you dislike my frankness, I shall be sorry, for it cost me a little to throw myself so open, and to no one's friendship could I have trusted myself but to ' Sir William's niece who was now at Naples, and afterwards, unavailingly, resented Emma's presence. ' WHAT GOD, AND GREVILLE, PLEASES ' 83 yours, from which I have ever been treated with indulgence and preference.' A month more and he disclosed a positive, if 'distant and imperfect,' prospect. Lord Middleton's youngest daughter was the favoured lady — in the ' requisites of beauty and disposition,' ' beyond the mark for a younger brother.' The die was cast ; he penned a formal proposal to her father. It may at once be told that the lady rejected him, and that Greville never married. Often and often he must have wished his poor and unfashionable Emma back again, when she was poor and unfashionable no longer : his amour propre had been hurt, and, till he became vice- chamberlain in 1794, to Lady Hamilton's genuine pleasure,^ his fortunes drooped. Greville's tentatives were now at an end. At length he laid a plain outline before Sir William : — ' If you could form a plan by which you could have a trial, and could invite her and tell her that I ought not to leave England and that I cannot afford to go on ; and state it as a kind- ness to me if she would accept your invitation, she would go with pleasure. She is to be six weeks at some bathing place; and when you could write an answer to this, and inclose a letter to her, I could manage it ; and either by land, by the coach to Geneva, and from thence by Vetturino forward her, or else by sea. I must add that I could not manage it so well later ; after a month, and absent from me, she would consider the whole more calmly. If there was in the world a person she loved so well as yourself after me, I could not arrange with so much sang- ' Cf. her letter of congratulation (Sept. i6, 1794), Morrison MS. 246, in answer to his letter of August 18 announcing his good fortune and claiming the approbation of such friends as herself, as the best reward for one who plumes himself on friendship (Nelson Letters (1814), vol. i. p. 265) : ' I should not flatter myself so far,' he writes, ' if I was not very sincerely interested in your happiness and ever affectionately yours.' 'I congratulate you,' she answers, ' with all my heart on your appointment. . . . You have well merited it ; and all your friends must be happy at a change so favourable not only for your pecuniary circumstances, as for the honner of the situation. May you long enjoy it with every happiness that you deserve ! I speak from my heart. I don't know a better, honester, or more amiable and worthy man than yourself; and it is a great deal for me to say this,, for, whatever I think, I am not apt to pay compliments.' 84 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON froid; and I am sure I would not let her go to you, if any risque of the usual coquetry of the sex [were] likely to give uneasiness or appearance. . . .' Sir William's ' invitation ' was to be perfectly innocent. She was to understand that her dear Greville's interest de- manded a temporary separation ; that she and her mother would be honoured guests at the Naples Embassy ; that she could improve the delightful change of scene and climate by training her musical gifts under the best masters, by studying the arts in their motherland, by learning languages amid a cosmopolitan crowd ; that by October her fairy-prince would reappear, and, like another Orpheus, bring back his Eurydice. And all this she was to be told, after absence, that makes the heart grow fonder, had inured her to separation, softened her heart to self- sacrifice, and reconciled her to his lightest bidding — when, in short, it would be easiest to practise on devotion. About these machinations Emma was left wholly in the dark ; their windings took place behind her back. Her all-wise, all-powerful and tender Greville could never consult but for her good, while his real unselfishness towards the child forbade any suspicion of his purpose. To Emma his prim platitudes were the loving eloquence of Romeo. And for the last few months he had been always preaching up to her the spotless example of a certain ' Mrs. Wells,' refined and accomplished, who, in Emma's own situation, had earned and kept both her own self-respect and that of more than one successive admirer ; who had learned the art of retaining the lover as friend, while she accepted his friend as lover. These innuendoes may well have puzzled her. Had she not realised a dream of constancy, and could that pass? Had she not parted with the child she loved to please the man of her heart, and fasten his faith to hers? Yet all the time her dearest Greville could speak of ' forwarding ' her, just as if she were one of those crystals on which he doted. The fact was that, added to his embarrassments, his need for fortune with a wife, his wish at once to oblige Sir William and to preclude him from wedlock, his genuine desire — which must be granted— to provide for Emma's 'WHAT GOD, AND GREVILLE, PLEASES' 85 future, arose the feeling that Emma herself was now too fond. It was hard to resign her ; but, unless the choice was quickly made, it might become impossible ever to make it ; and he might be entangled into a marriage which would hold him up to ridicule. But for once GreviUe was in haste. Sir William, always leisurely, took time before he began to broach a scheme of life which filled his nephew with alarm. Greville had never doubted that, should his will prevail with Emma as well as with his uncle, the latter would sequester her in one of his villas near Naples — some Italian Edgware Row. His mind recoiled from the awful thought that she might ever dispense the honours of the Embassy. The Ambassador, however, could not agree. He had discerned powers in this singular woman passing Greville's vision, and the connoisseur longed to call them forth and create a work of art. He lived, too, in a land where the convenances were not so rigid as in his own. Did not the bonne amie of a distinguished diplomat and Knight of Malta grace his Roman house and circle ? ^ Illness also made for postponement. When Greville returned to town after his summer outing, he found Emma, fresh from her sea-baths, ' alarmed and distress'd ' over her mother's ' paralysis.' ' It was not so severe an attack,' he told his uncle in November, ' as I understood it to be when I informed you of it from Cornwall. . . . You may suppose that I did not increase Emma's uneasiness by any hint of the subject of our correspondence ' ; ' at any rate,' he sighs, ' it cannot take place, and she goes on so well, . . . and also improv'd in looks, that I own it is less agreable to part ; yet I have no other alternative but to marry, or remain a pauper ; I shall persist in my resolution not to lose an opportunity if I can find it, and do not think that my idea of sending her to Naples on such an event arises from my consulting my convenience only. I can assure you she would not have a scarcity of offers ; she has refused great ' Cf. the instance of Pierre Camille de Rohan, Maltese Ambassador in Rome (1791), adduced by Lady Malmesbury in Lady Minto's Life and Letters of the first Earlof Minto, vol. i. His ' friend ' was a ' Chanoinesse.' This impeccable lady, however, refused to see Lady Hamilton at Caserta before her marriage, although she was universally received, and by many believed to have been already married. 86 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON ones ; but I am sure she would prefer a foreign country. ... I know that confidence and good usage will never be abused by her, and that nothing can make her giddy. I was only ten days with her when I was call'd away to be Mayor of Warwick ; it was not kindly meant, but it will turn out well. I have been at the castle ; I have put myself on good terms with my brother, and I think I shall keep him passive, if not interested for me in the borough. . . .' It was not, therefore, Emma only who had grown ' much more considerate and amiable.' Lord Warwick must be enlisted if Greville was to ' stand high with both parties,' and urge them into competition for his services, as he gravely proceeded to inform his uncle. December brought Sir William's offer, and with it matured Greville's plans for the March ensuing. He would visit Scotland to retrench and profit by the lectures of Edinburgh dominies, while his ' minerals ' would remaiti his, thanks to Hamilton's generosity ; Emma, she was assured, for a while only, would repair to Naples chaperoned by her mother, and the pleasant Gavin Hamilton Romeward bound. All of them were to be couriered so far as Geneva by the Swiss Dejean ; at Geneva Sir William's man Vincenzo — long afterwards to be Nelson's faithful servant — would meet the party. For six months only Emma could cease her own course of incomparable lectures at Edgware Row ; and a brief absence alone reconciled her to severance. A charming visit was to hasten a welcome re-union. '. . . The absolute necessity,' explains the casuist once more, 'of reducing every expence to enable me to have enough to exist on, and to pay the interest of my debt without parting with my collection of minerals, which is not yet in a state of arrangement which would set it off to its greatest advantage, occasion'd my telling Emma,' with sudden artlessness, ' that I should be obliged on business to absent myself for a few months in Scotland. She naturally said that such a separation would be very like a total separation, for that she should be very miserable during my absence, and that she should neither profit by my conversation nor improve in any degree, that my absence would be more tolerable if she had you to comfort ' WHAT GOD. AND GREVILLE, PLEASES ' 87 her, . . . as there was not a person in the world whom she could be happy with, if I was dead, but yourself, and that she certainly would profit of your kind offer, if I should die or slight her ' — two equally improbable alternatives in Emma's purview. '. . . I told her that / should have no objection to her going to Naples for 6 or S months, and that if she realy wish'd it I would forward any letter she wrote. . . . That she would not fear being troublesome, as she would be perfectly satisfied with the degree of attention you should from choice give her, and that she should be very hap0 in learning music, Italian, etc., while your avocations imploy'd you. . . . I told her that she would be so happy that I should be cut out, and she said that if I did not come for her, or neglected her, she would certainly be grateful to you ; but that neither interest nor affection should ever induce her to change, unless my interest or wish required it.' It should be noted that the previous sentences about Emma's alternatives are contradicted by those which set her down as only to be weaned from Greville by becoming a willing sacrifice to his ' interest.' Enclosed was Emma's own missive. ' Emboldened ' by Sir William's kindness when he was in England, she re- capitulated the circumstances. Greville, ' whom you know I love tenderly,' is obliged to go for four or five months in the ' sumer ' ' to places that I cannot with propriety attend him to' — here surely it is Greville who dictates? She has too great a ' regard for him to hinder him from pursuing those plans which,' she thinks, ' it is right for him to follow.' As Hamilton was so good as to encourage her, she 'will speak her mind.' Firstly, she would be glad ' to be a little more improv'd,' and Greville 'out of kindness' had offered to dispense with her for the few months at the close of which he would come to ' fetch ' her home, and stay a while there when he comes, ' which I know you will be glad to see him.' He therefore proposed the ist of March for his own departure northward and hers to the south. She would be ' flattered ' if Hamilton will ' allot ' her an apartment in ' his house,' ' and lett Greville occupye those appartments when he comes ; you know that must be ; but as your house is very large, and you must, from the nature of your office. 88 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON have business to transact and visiters to see,' — here Greville dictates again — ' I shall always keep my own room when you are better engaged, and at other times I hope to have the pleasure of your company and conversation, which will be more agreable to me than anything in Italy. As I have given you an example of sincerity, I hope you will be equaly candid and sincere in a speedy answer. ... I shall be perfectly happy in any arrangements you will make, as I have full confidence in your kindness and attention to me. ..." The must in this letter leaves no doubt that the per- manence of separation never crossed her mind. Greville's crystals, however, required a sacrifice, which for him she prided herself on making. On April 26 — her birthday — she duly arrived at the Palazzo Sessa.^ But she at once felt wretched away from the man she loved, and her sole comfort lay in forwarding his interest. ' It was my birthday, and I was very low spirited. Oh God ! that day that you used to smile on me and stay at home, and be kind to me — that that day I shou'd be at such a distance from you ! But my comfort is that I rely upon your promise, and September or October I shall see you ! But I am quite unhappy at not hearing from you — no letter for me yet, . . . but I must wait with patience.' 'I dreaded,' she continued later, 'setting down to write, for I try to appear as chearful before Sir William as I could, and I am sure to cry the moment I think of you.^ For I feel more and more unhappy at being separated from you, and if my fatal ruin depends on seeing you, I will and must at the end of the sumer. For to live without you is imposible. I love you to that degree that at this time there is not a hardship upon hearth either of poverty, cold, death, or even to walk barefooted to Scotland to see ^ Then the Embassy. For this information I am obliged to Mr. Neville- Rolfe, Consul- General at Naples. It was with difficulty that he identified the site in the Vico Capella Vecchia. The Sessa family still owns the house. ' Sir William had divined this probability the day before she arrived : — ' However, I will do as well as I can and hobble in and out of this pleasant scrape as decently as I can. You may be assured I will comfort her for the loss of you as well as I am able, but I know, from the small specimens during your absence from London, that I shall have at times many tears to wipe from those charming eyes.' — Morrison MS. 149, April 25, 1786. 'WHAT GOD, AND GREVILLE, PLEASES' 89 you, but what I wou'd undergo. Therefore my dear, dear Greville, if you do love me, for my sake, try all you can to come hear as soon as possible. You have a true friend in Sir William, and he will be happy to see you, and do all he can to make you happy ; and for me I will be everything you can wish for. I find it is not either a fine horse, or a fine coach, or a pack of servants, or plays or operas, can make [me] happy. It is you that [h]as it in your power either to make me very happy or very miserable. I respect Sir William, I have a great regard for him, as the uncle and friend of you, and he loves me, Greville. But he can never be anything nearer to me than your uncle and my sincere friend. He never can be my lover. You do not know how good Sir William is to me. He is doing every- thing he can to make me happy. . . .' ^ Her inmost soul speaks in these sentences. They ring true, and are without question outpourings of the heart on paper bedewed with tears. Sir William was indeed kind. He wanted to wean her from one who could thus have treated her. He was never out of her sight. He gazed on her ; he sighed ; he praised her every movement. He gave her presents and showed her all that romantic antiquity which he loved, understood, and explained so well. She had gazed on Posilippo, and was to revel in the villino at Caserta and the Posilippo villa, which soon bore her name. But carriage and liveries, ' like those of Mrs. Damer,' who had just left, a private boat, and baths under summer skies in summer seas — all these availed nothing with Greville absent. Her apartment was of four rooms fronting that en- chanted bay. The Ambassador's friends dined with her, and she sang for them : — ' Yes, last night we had a little concert. But then I was so low, for I wanted you to partake of our amusement. Sir Thomas Rumbold "^ is here with [h]is son who is dying of a decline, . . . and poor young man ! he cannot walk from the bed to the chair ; and Lady Rumbold, like a tender-hearted wretch, is gone to Rome, to pass her time there with the English, and [h]as took the coach and ^ All the foregoing passages are to be found in the Morrison MS. of 1784- 1786. 2 The enriched Nabob from Ceylon whose wealth caused a parliamentary scandal in 1782. Cf. Horace Walpole's Letters, vol. viii. pp. 216, 221. 90 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON all the English servants with her, and left poor Sir Thomas, with [h]is heart broken, waiting on [h]is sick son. You can't think what a worthy man he is. He dined with ous, and likes me very much, and every day [h]as brought [h]is carriage or phaeton . . . and carries me and mother and Sir William out.' None the less her heart stays with Greville. She is always helping him with Sir William, whose good will (in both senses of that word) makes her 'very happy for his sake. . . . But Greville, my dear Greville, wright some comfort to me.' ' Only remember your promise of October.'^ This delusive October must have hung over Greville's head like a sword of Damocles, or Caesar's inevitable Ides of March. The sensation of Emma's first appearance in the kal- eidoscope of Naples, with its King of the Lazzaroni and Queen of the Illuminati, together with the conjunctures of affairs and men first witnessed by her, will find place in the next chapter. It was not many months before she was to exclaim to Greville, ' You do not know what power I have hear ' ; before Acton, the Premier, was to rally Sir William on 'a worthy and charming young lady.'^ But now and here the climax of her emotions, when she first fully realised Greville's breach of faith and his real pur- pose in exiling her, must be reached without interruption. Even on the first of May, when his uncle told her in reply to her solicitude for Greville's welfare, that she might command anything from one who loved them both so dearly, ' I have had a conversation this morning,' she wrote, ' with Sir William that has made me mad. He speaks — no, I do not know what to make of it.' Three months went by, and still no letter came, except one to tell her how grateful was the nephew for the uncle's care ;* and still Sir William looked and languished. The truth began to dawn upon her, but even now she dared not face, and would not believe it. At the close of July, when Naples drowses and melts in dreamy haze, she made her • Morrison MS. 150, April 30, 1785. 2 Egerton MS. 2639, f. 12, March 10, 1787. ' Alluded to in Greville's business note to Hamilton. Morrison MS. 151, May 1786. ' WHAT GOD, AND GREVILLE, PLEASES ' 91 last and piteous, though spirited, appeal. ' I am now onely writing to beg of you for God's sake to send me one letter, if it is onely a farewell. Sure I have deserved this for the sake of the love you once had for me. . . . Don't despise me. I have not used you ill in any one thing. I have been from you going of six months, and you have wrote one letter to me, enstead of which I have sent fourteen to you. So pray let me beg of you, my much loved Greville, only one line from your dear, dear hands. You don't know how thankful I shall be for it. For if you knew the misery I feel, oh ! your heart wou'd not be intirely shut up against me ; for I love you with the truest affection. Don't let any body sett you against me. Some of your friends — your foes perhaps, I don't know what to stile them — have long wisht me ill. But, Greville, you never will meet with any- body that has a truer affection for you than I have, and I onely wish it was in my power to shew you what I cou'd do for you. As soon as I know your determination, I shall take my own measures. If I don't hear from you, and that you are coming according to promise, I shall be in England at Cristmass at farthest. Don't be unhappy at that, I will see you once more for the last time. I find life is insup- portable without you. Oh ! my heart is intirely broke. Then for God's sake, my ever dear Greville, do write to me some comfort. I don't know what to do. I am now in that state, I am incapable of anything. I have a language- master, a singing-master, musick, etc., but what is it for ? If it was to amuse you, I shou'd be happy. But, Greville, what will it avail me? I am poor, helpless, and forlorn. I have lived with you 5 years, and you have sent me to a strange place, and no one prospect but thinking you was coming to me. Instead of which I was told. . . . No, I respect him, but no, never. . . . What is to become of me ? But excuse me, my heart is ful. I tel you give me one guiney a week for everything, and live with me, and I will be contented. But no more. I will trust to Providence, and wherever you go, God bless you, and preserve you, and may you allways be happy ! But write to Sir William. What [h]as he done to affront you ? ' ^ 1 Morrison MS. 152, July 22, 1786. 92 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON She awaited Greville's orders. Sir William had com- missioned still another portrait of her from Romney;^ ' Angelaca ' was about to paint her ; she was ' so remarkably fair ' that ' everybody ' said she ' put on red and white ' ; Lord Hervey was her slave ; a foreign prince was in her train each evening ; the king was 'sighing ' for her. It was Greville's orders for which she waited. She had just visited Pompeii and viewed the wrecks of love and bloom and life unearthed by alien hands. Was here no moral for this distraught and heaving bosom ? And there that awful mountain lowered and threatened ruin every day. The Maltese Minister's house hard by had been struck by lightning. Like lurid Nature, Emma too was roused to fury, though, a microcosm of it also, she smiled between the outbursts. What could she do but wait ? Twelve days more; the order comes — ^Oblige Sir William.' Her passion blazes up, indignant : ' . . . Nothing can express my rage. Greville, to advise me ! — you that used to envy my smiles ! How with qool indifference to advise me ! . . . Oh! that is the worst of all. But I will not, no, I will not rage. If I was with you I wou'd murder you and myself boath. I will leave of[f] and try to get more strength, for I am now very ill with a cold. ... I won't look back to what I wrote . . . Nothing shall ever do for me but going home to you. If that is not to be, I will except of nothing I will go to London, their go into every excess of vice till I dye, a miserable, broken-hearted wretch, and leave my fate as a warning to young whomen never to be two good ; for now you have made me love you, you made me good, you have abbandoned me ; and some violent end shall finish our connexion, if it is to finish. But oh ! Greville, you cannot, you must not give me up. You have not the heart to do it. You love me I am sure ; and I am willing to do every- thing in my power, and what will you have more ? And I only say this is the last time I will either beg or pray, do as you like.' — ' I always knew, I had a foreboding since first I began to love you, that I was not destined to be happy ; for their is not a King or Prince on hearth that cou'd make me happy without you.' — ' Little Lord Brooke is dead. Poor little boy, how I envy him his happiness.' ' The second ' Bacchante,' lost in the Colossus in 1799. ' WHAT GOD, AND GREVILLE, PLEASES ' 93 She had been degraded in her own eyes, and by the lover whom she had heroised. Was this, then, the reward of modesty regained ; of love returned, of strenuous effort, of hopes for her child, and a home purified ? Her idol lay prone, dashed from its pedestal, with feet of clay. And yet this did not harden her. Though she could not trust, she still believed in him as in some higher power who chastens those he loves. Her paroxysms passed to return again : — ' ... It is enough, I have paper that Greville wrote on. He [h]as folded it up. He wet the wafer. How I envy thee the place of Emma's lips, that would give worlds, had she them, to kiss those lips ! . . . I onely wish that a wafer was my onely rival. But I submit to what God and Greville pleases' Even now she held him to his word. 'I have such a headache with my cold, I don't know what to do. ... I can't lett a week go without telling you how happy I am at hearing from you. Pray, write as often as you can. If you come, we shall all go home together. , . . Pray write to me, and don't write in the stile of a freind, but a lover. For I won't hear a word of freind. Sir William is ever freind. But we are lovers. I am glad you have sent me a blue hat and gloves. . .' For many years she cherished Greville's friendship. She wrote to him perpetually after the autumn of this year saw Sir William win her heart as well as will by his tenderness, and by her thought of advancing the ingrate nephew himself. Never did she lose sight of Greville's interests during those fourteen future years at Naples. She lived to thank Greville for having made Sir William known to her, to be proud of her achievements as his ileve. But at the same time in these few months a larger horizon was already opening. She had looked on a bigger world, and ambition was awakening within her. She had seen royalty and statesmen, and she began to feel that she might play a larger part. Under, Greville's yoke she had been ready to pinch and slave ; with Sir William she would rule. 'Pray write,' she concludes one of her Greville letters, ' for nothing will make me so angry, and it is not to your intrest to disoblidge me, for you don't know,' she adds with point, 'the power I have hear. . . . If you affront me,' 94 ^ EMMA, LADY HAMILTON she prophesies (not threatens, as has been represented), ' / will make him marry me. God bless you for ever.' ^ And amid all her tumult of disillusionment, of un- certainty, of bewilderment in the new influence she was visibly wielding over new surroundings, she remained the more mindful of those oldest friends who had believed her good, and enabled her to feel good herself. Sir William, wishful to retain for her the outside comforts of virtue, hastened to gratify her by inviting Romney and Hayley to Naples. The disappointment caused by Romney's inability to comply with a request dear to him ''■ threw her back on herself, and made her feel lonelier than ever ; her mother was her great consolation. And what was Greville's attitude ? These Emma-letters would have been tumbled into his waste-paper basket with the fourteen others that remain, had he not returned them to Hamilton with the subjoined and private comment: — ' L'oubli de Hindus est volant, fixez-le : si on admet le ton de la vertu sans la virit^, on est la dupe, et je place naturellement tout sur le pied vrai, comme j'ai toujours fait, et je constate I'itat actuel sans m.e reporter d vous.' ^ One must not be duped by the tone without the truth of virtue ! The ' self- respect,' then, instilled by him, was never designed to raise her straying soul ; it was a makeshift contrived to steady her erring steps — a mere bridge between goodness and its opposite, which he would not let her cross ; though neither would he let her throw herself over it into the troubled and muddy depths below : it was a bridge built for his own retreat. Greville recked of no ' truth ' but hard ' facts,' which he looked unblushingly in the face, nor did his essence harbour one flash or spark of idealism. And still he purposed her welfare, as he understood it ; he had sought to kill three birds with one stone. Hamilton, for all his faults, was never a sophist of such compromise. For Emma 1 Morrison MS. 153, August i, 1786. Some of the sentences are quoted in the order oi feeling and not of sequence. Emma seldom wrote long letters in a single day. 2 Romney had been very ill. In his answer (August 1786) he hopes ' in a weke or to, to be upon my pins (I cannot well call them legs), as you know at best they are very poor ones.' — Cf. Ward and Roberts's Romney, vol. i. p. 67. 3 Morrison MS. 154, October 24, 1786. The '/a' is Greville's. 'WHAT GOD, AND GREVILLE, PLEASES' 95 he purposed a state of life above its semblance, and a strength beyond its frail supports; already he desired that she would consent to be, in all but name, his wife. Greville, certain of her good nature, had dreaded per- manence ; Hamilton, if all went smoothly, meant it. Yet Greville exacted friendship without affection. His French postscript was designed to escape Emma's comprehension, though a month or so later it could not have succeeded in doing so. But the letter itself contained some paragraphs which he intended her to study : — ' . . . I shall hope to manage to all our satisfaction, for I so long foresaw that a moment of separation must arrive, that I never kept the connexion, but on the footing of perfect liberty to her. Its commencement was not of my seeking, and hitherto it has contributed to her happiness. She knows and reflects often on the circumstances which she cannot forget, and in her heart she cannot reproach me of having acted otherwise than a kind and attentive friend. But you have now rendered it possible for her to be respected and comfortable, and if she has not talked herself out of the true vieiv of her situation she will retain the protection and affection of us both. For after all, consider what a charming creature she would have been if she had been blessed with the advantages of an early education, and had not been spoilt by the indulgence of every caprice. I never was irritated by her momentary passions, for it is a good heart which will not part with a friend in anger ; and yet it is true that when her pride is hurt by neglect or anxiety for the future, the frequent repition \sic\ of her passion ballances the beauty of the smiles. If a person knew her and could live for life with her, by an economy of attention, that is by constantly renew- ing very little attentions, she would be happy and good tem'per'd, for she has not a grain of avarice or self-interest. . . . Knowing all this, infinite have been my pains to make her respect herself, and act fmrly,- and I had always proposed to continue her friend, altho' the connexion ceased. I had pro- posed to make her accept and manage your kind provision,^ and she would easily have adopted that plan j it was acting ' Sir Williani offered to settle ;^I00 annually, and Greville a like sum, on her. Romney was to have been a trustee. 96 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON the part of good woman, and to offer to put her regard to any test, and to show that she contributed to MY happiness, by accepting the provision ... it would not have hurt her pride, and would have been a line of heroicks more natural, because it arose out of the real situation, than any which by con- versation she might persuade herself suited her to act. Do not understand the word " act " other than I mean it. We all [act] well when we suit our actions to the real situation, and conduct them by truth and good intention. We act capriciously and inconveniently to others when our actions are founded on an imaginary plan which does not place the persons involved in the scene in their real situations. . . . If Mrs. Wells had quarrell'd with Admiral Keppell, she would never have been respected as she now is. . . . If she will put me on the footing of a friend . . . she will write to me fairly on her plans, she will tell me her thoughts, and her future shall be my serious concern. . . , She has conduct and discernment, and I have always said that such a woman, if she controul her passions, might rule the roost, and chuse her station.' Thus ^neas-Greville, of Dido-Emma, to his trusty Achates. Surely a self-revealing document of sense and blindness, of truth and falsehood, one, moreover, did space allow, well worth longer excerpts. He excused his action in his own eyes even more elaborately, over and over again. He would conscientiously fulfil his duty to her and hers, if only she would accept his view of her own 'duty ' towards him ; his tone admitted of few obligations beyond mutual interest. He never reproached either her or himself : he thought him- self firm, not cruel ; he remained her good friend and well- wisher, her former rescuer, a father to her child. ' Heroicks ' were out of place and out of taste. He again held up to her proud imitation the prime pattern of ' Mrs. Wells.' He was even willing that she should return home, if so she chose ; but his terms were irrevocably fixed, and it was use- less for her to hystericise against adamant. But he did not reckon with the latent possibilities of her being. The sequel was to prove not 'what Greville,' but what ' God pleases.' CHAPTER V APPRENTICESHIP AND MARRIAGE 1787-1791 What was the new prospect on which Emma's eyes first rested in March 1786? Goethe has described it. A fruitful land, a free, blue sea, the scented islands, and the smoking mountain. A population of vegetarian craftsmen busy to enjoy with hand-to-mouth labour. A people holding their teeming soil under a lease on sufferance from earthquake and volcano. An inflammable mob, whose king lost six thousand subjects annually by assassination, and whose brawls and battles of vendetta would last three hours at a time.^ An upper class of feudal barons proud and ignorant. A lower class of half-beggars, at once lazy, brave, and insolent, who, if they misliked the face of a foreign inquirer, would stare in silence and turn away. A middle class of literati despising those above and below them. A race of tillers and of fishermen alternating between pious supersti- tion and reckless revel, midway, as it were, between God and Satan.^ The bakers celebrating their patron. Saint Joseph ; the priests their childlike ' saint-humorous,' San Filippo Neri ; high and low alike, their civic patrons, Saints Anthony and Januarius, whose liquefying blood each January propitiated Vesuvius.* Preaching Friars, dreaming Friars ; singing, ' Cf. Life and Letters of the first Earl of Minto, vol. ii. p. 364. In their fight with the 'Sberri,' Sir William's courtyard gave them refuge, and there Emma's humanity had full play. ^ Goethe's own expression in the Italian fourney. ' On the outbreak of the French Revolution, the latter saint being accused of Jacobinism, his statue was solemnly tried in open court wd condemned, G 98 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON sceptical, enjoying Abbds. A country luxuriant not only with southern growths, but garlanded even in February by banks of wild violets and tangles of wild heliotrope and sweet-peas.^ A spirit of Nature, turning dread to beauty, and beauty into dread. She sits, her head leaned against her hand, and gazes through the open casement on a scene bathed in southern sun and crystal air — the pure air, the large glow, the light soil that made Neapolis the pride of Magna Graecia. Her room — it is Goethe himself who describes it ^ — ' furnished in the English taste,' is ' most delightful ' ; ^ the 'outlook from its corner window, unique.' Below, the bay ; in full view, Capri ; on the right, Posilippo ; nearer the highroad. Villa Reale the royal palace ; on the left an ancient Jesuit cloister, which the queen had dedi- cated to learning ; hard by on either side, the twin strong- holds of Ovo and Nuovo, and the busy, noisy Molo, overhung by the fortress of San Elmo on the frowning crag ; further on, the curving coast from Sorrento to Cape Minerva. And all this varied vista, from the centre of a densely thronged and clattering city. The whirlwind of passion sank, and gradually yielded to calm, as Greville had predicted. ' Every woman,' com- mented this astute observer, resenting the mention of his name at Naples, ' either feels or acts a part ' ; and change of dramatis personcB was necessary, he added, ' to make Emma happy' and himself 'free.'* But his careful pre- scription of the immaculate ' Mrs. Wells ' only partially succeeded. True, the elderly friend was soon to become the attached lover, and the prudential lover a forgiven friend ; but he ceased henceforward to be ' guide ' or ' philosopher,' and gradually faded into a minor actor in the drama, though never into a supernumerary. She felt, as she told Sir William, forlorn ; her trust had been betrayed and rudely shaken. What she longed for was a friend, and 1 Cf. Life and Letters of the First Earl of Minto. " Italienische Reise. Works, vol. xix. p. 220. No one has written a better account of the Neapolitans in the spring and summer of 1787. * 'AUerliebst.' * Morrison MS. 154. APPRENTICESHIP AND MARRIAGE 99 she could never simulate what she did not feel.^ His gentle respect, his chivalry, contrasting with Greville's cynical taskmastership, his persuasive endearments, eventu- ally won the day ; and by the close of the year Emma's heart assented to his suit. Her eyes had been opened.^ To him she ' owed everything.' He was to her ' every kind name in one.' ' I believe,' she assured him this year, ' it is right I shou'd be seperated from you sometimes, to make me know myself, for I don't know till you are absent, how dear you are to me'; she implores one little line just that she 'may kiss' his 'name.'^ Sir William at fifty- six retained that art of pleasing which he never lost ; and she was always pleased to be petted and shielded. Even before the opening of 1787 she had already mastered the language and the society of Naples. Disobedient to his nephew, and his niece Mrs. Dickenson, who remonstrated naturally but in vain. Sir William insisted on her ' doing the honours,' which she astonished him by managing, as he thought, to perfection. Every moment spared from receiv- ing or giving hospitalities in the Palazzo Sessa * was filled by strenuous study at home, or in the adjoining Convent of Santa Romita. Her captivating charm, her quick tact, her impulsive friendliness, her entertaining humour, her natural taste for art, which, together with her ' kindness and intelli- gence,' had already been acknowledged by Romney as a source of inspiration ; * her unique ' Attitudes,' her voice which, under Galluci's tuition, she was now beginning ' to 1 Cf. her very striking letter to Hamilton, Morrison MS. 163 : ' ... Do you call me your dear friend ? . . . Oh, if I cou'd express myself ! If I had words to thank you, that I may not thus be choaked with meanings, for which I can find no utterance ! ' etc. ^ ' But now I have my wisdom teeth.' — Morrison MS. 157. s Ibid. 164. * So far from this house being, as has been put forward, the present Embassy, it did not even remain the habitation of Hamilton's successors, Paget, Elliot, and Bentinck. Writing to Emma from Naples in 1804, Nelson says: 'Your house has become a hotel.' ° Cf. Hayley's letter to her of May 17, 1804 (cited by Pettigrew, vol. ii. p. 596) : ' You were not only his model but his inspirer, and he truly and grate- fully said, that he owed a great part of his felicity as a painter to the angelic kindness and intelligence with which you used to animate his diffident and tremulous spirits to the grandest efforts of art.' loo EMMA, LADY HAMILTON command,' even her free and easy manners when con- trasted with those of the Neapolitan noblesse, all seemed miracles, broke down the easy barriers of susceptible southerners, and gained her hosts of 'sensible admirers.' So early as February 1787 Sir William reported to his nephew : ' . . . Our dear Em. goes on now quite as I cou'd wish, and is universally beloved ' — a phrase which Emma herself repeated ten months later to her first mentor, with the proud consciousness of shining at a distance before him. 'She is wonderful!,' added Hamilton, 'considering her youth and beauty, and I flatter myself that E. and her Mother are happy to be with me, so that I see my every wish fulfilled.' By the August of this year, when she first wrote Italian, she saw ' good company,' she delighted the whole diplomatic circle ; Sir William was indissociable ; she used the familiar ' we ' — ' our house at Caserta is fitted up,' while Sir William followed suit.^ The very servants styled her ' Eccellenza.' Her attached Ambassador ' is distractedly in love ' ; 'he deserves it, and indeed I love him dearly.' There was not a grain in her of inconstancy. ' He is so kind, so good and tender to me,' she wrote as Emma Hart, in an unpublished letter,^ 'that I love him so much that I have not a warm look left for the Neapolitans.' His evenings, he wrote, were sweet with song and admiring guests, while her own society rendered them a 'comfort.' Inclination went on steadily ripening, until it settled within three years into deep mutual fond- ness. He fitted up for her a new boudoir in the Naples house with its round mirrors, as Miss Knight has recorded,* covering the entire side of the wall opposite the semi- circular window, and reflecting the moonlit bay with its glimmering boats, the glass tanks with their marine treasures of ' sea-oranges ' and the like. Within a year Hamilton tells Greville that she asks him 'Do you love me, aye, but as much as your new apartment ? ' — both here and at Caserta. He did his best to ' form ' her, and in the course of time she was able to share his botanical studies, 1 Morrison MS. 174. " May 17, 1804. From an excerpt in one of Messrs. Sotheby's catalogues, June 1905. ' Miss Knight's Diary, vol. i. p. 251. APPRENTICESHIP AND MARRIAGE loi which they pursued not as ' pedantical prigs ' to air learning, but with zeal and pleasure in the early mornings and fresh air of the ' English ' gardens. Her aptitude and adaptive- ness worked wonders. Within a year she was able to take an intelligent interest in the preparation of the virtuoso's new volume on Etruscan Urns — a progress promptly reported by him to his old crony Sir Joseph Banks, who greeted it cordially.^ She aided his volcanic observations; Sir William laughed, and said she would rival him with the mountain now.^ Both had already stayed with, and she had en- chanted, the Duke and Duchess of St. Maitre at Sorrento, the musical Countess of Mahoney at Ischia ; cries of ' Una donna rara,' ^bellissima creatural were on every mouth. The Duke of Gloucester begged Hamilton to favour him with her acquaintance.* The Olympian Goethe himself beheld and marvelled. Her unpretending naivetd * won her adherents at every step. ' All the female nobility, with the queen at their head,' were ' distantly civil ' to her already ; none rude to Emma were allowed within the precincts. Meddlers or censors were sent roundly to the right-about, and informed that she was the sweetest, the best, the cleverest creature in the world. When he returned from his periodical royal wild-boar chases, it was Emma again who brewed his punch and petted him. Now and again there peeps out also that half voluptuous tinge in her wifeliness which never wholly deserted her. She had been Greville's devoted slave; Sir William was already hers. Her monitor had repulsed her free sacrifice and urged it for his own advantage towards his uncle; but her ^ Cf. Eg. MS. 2641, f. 139, and cf. ff. 137, 141, 146. ' I rejoice to hear that she proceeds with diligence and success in her improvement. Her beauty will, I hope, last as long as she can wish ; but her mind, when once stored with instruc- tion and amusement, will certainly last as long as she stays this side Heaven.' — November 1787. "^ Morrison MS. 164. 3 Morrison MS. 166. Just before Emma's arrival the Duke of Cumberland had also been there with Lord Ferrers and the ill-starred gamestress, Lady Elizabeth Luttrell. Cf. Ibid. 148. On the Duke of Gloucester's return home King George's family dissensions were renewed. Says Henry Swinburne, Greville's friend and Hamilton's at Naples : ' The poor king will act the part of the enraged musician, but the nation will pay the piper.' — Ibid. 179. * This point is specially emphasised afterwards by Sir William. I02 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON worshipper had now fanned not so much the flame, perhaps, as the incense of her unfeigned^ attachment. The English dined with her while Sir William was away shooting with the king. She trilled Handel and Paisiello, learned French, Italian, music, dancing, design,^ and history.* Hamilton was himself musical, and used to accom- pany her voice — of which he was a good judge — on the viola. She laughed at the foibles and follies of the court ; she retailed to him the gossip of the hour. She entered into his routine and protected his interests ; she prevented him from being pestered or plundered.* Only a few years, and she was dictating etiquette even to an English nobleman.^ It was a triumphal progress which took the town by storm ; her beauty swept men off their feet. The trans- formations of these eighteen months, which lifted her out of her cramped nook at Paddington into a wide arena, read like a dream, or one of those Arabian fairy-tales where peasants turn princes in an hour. Nor is the least surprise, among many, the thought that these dissolving views present themselves as adventures of admired virtue, and not as unsanctioned escapades. At Naples the worst of her past seemed buried, and she could be born again. Her accent, her vulgarisms mattered little ; she spoke to new friends in a new language. The ' lovely woman ' who had 'stooped to folly, and learned too late that men betray,' seems rather to have ' stooped to conquer ' by the approved methods of the same Goldsmith's heroine. The scene of her dibut is that of Opera, all moonlight, ^ Cf. Morrison MS. 164, 1787 (Emma to Sir William): '. . . My com- forter in distress. Then why shall I not love you. Endead I must and ought whilst life is left in me or reason to think on you. . . . My heart and eyes fill. . . . I owe everything to you, and shall ever with grattitude remember it. ..." Andcf.ihW. 172, 1788: '. . , I love Sir William, for he renounces all for me.' ^ ' Drawing,' she says in one of her letters, comes ' easy as A, B, C " Cf. TAe Life and Letters of the first Earl of Minto, vol. ii. p. 364. He calls her (in 1796) ' the most extraordinary compound I ever beheld.' ' All Nature, and yet all Art'; 'manners perfectly unpolished.' But 'one wonders at the application and pains she has taken to make herself what she is.' He allows her ' considerable natural understanding' and ' excessive good humOur.' * Cf. inter alia for the foregoing Morrison MS. 160, 168, 171, 172. 5 Macartney. For Horace Walpole's mean opinion of him, cf. Letters, vol. viii. p. 131, APPRENTICESHIP AND MARRIAGE 103 flutter, music, and masquerade. Escaping in the cool of the evening from her chambers, thronged by artists, wax- modellers, and intaglio-cutters, she attends Sir William's evening saunter in the royal gardens at the fashionable hour. Hv^r complexion so much resembles apple-blossom, that beholders question it, although she neither paints nor powders. Dapper Prince Dietrichstein from Vienna (' Dray- drixton' in her parlance as in Acton's) attends her as 'cavaliere servente' whispering to her in broken English that she is a 'diamond of the first water.' Two more princes and 'two or three nobles' follow at her heels. She wears a loose muslin gown, the sleeves tied in folds with blue ribbon arid trimmed with lace, a blue sash and the big blue hat which Greville has sent her as peace- offering. Beyond them stand the king, the queen, the minister Acton, and a brilliant retinue. That queen, care- worn but beautiful, who already 'likes her much,' has begged the Austrian beau to walk near her that she may get a glimpse of his fair companion, the English girl, who is a ' modern antique.' ' But Greville,' writes Emma, ' the king [h]as eyes, he [h]as a heart, and I have made an impression on it. But I told the prince, Hamilton is my friend, and she belongs to his nephew, for all our friends know it.'i Only last Sunday that 'Roi d'Yvetot' had dined at Posilippo, mooring his boat by the casements of Hamilton's country casino for a nearer view. This garden- house is already named the 'Villa Emma,' and there for Emma a new 'music-room' is building. Emma and the Ambassador had been entertaining a 'diplomatick party.' They issue forth beneath the moon to their private boat. At once the monarch places his ' boat of musick ' next to theirs. His band of 'French Horns' strikes up a serenade for the queen of hearts. The king removes his hat, sits with it on his kneeg, and 'when going to land,' bows and says, ' it was a sin he could not speak English.' She has him in her train every evening at San Carlo, villa, or promenade ; she is the cynosure of each day, and the toast of every night. Or, again, she entertains informally at Sorrento, orange- ' Morrison MS. 152, July 22, 1786. I04 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON blossoming in February, after an afternoon of rambling donkey-rides near flaming Vesuvius, and visits to grandees in villeggiatura. In one room sits Sir William's orchestra ; in the other she receives their guests. At last her turn comes round to sing ; she chooses ' Luce Bella,' ^ in which the Banti makes such a furore at San Carlo, that famous Banti^ who had already marvelled at the tone and com- pass of her voice,^ when in fear and trembling she had been induced to follow her. As she ceases, there is a ten minutes' round of applause, a hubbub of ' Bravas ' and 'Ancoras.' And then she performs in 'buffo' — 'that one' (and Greville knew it) 'with a Tambourin,* in the char- acter of a young girl with a raire-shew [raree-show], the pretiest thing you ever heard.' He must concede her triumph, the hard, unruffled man ! She turns the heads of the Sorrentines ; she leaves ' some dying, some crying, and some in despair. Mind you, this was all nobility, as proud as the devil ' ; but — and here brags the people's daughter — ' zve humbled them ' ; ' but what astonished them was that I shou'd speak such good Italian. For I paid them, I spared non[e] of them, tho' I was civil and oblidging. One asked me if I left a love at Naples, that I left them so soon. I pulled my lip at him, to say, " I pray, do you take me for an Italian ? . . . Look, sir, I am English. I have one Cavaliere servente, and I have brought him with me," pointing to Sir William.' Hart, the English musician, wept to hear her sing an air by Handel, pronouncing that in her the tragic and comic Muses were so happily blended that Garrick would have been enraptured.^ These were the very qualities that even thus early distinguished her self- 1 Another of her songs at this time was ' Per pieti da questa instante non parlarmi, O Dio d'Amor.' " The Banti's will directed that her larynx should be preserved in spirits ; and it is still in the Medical Museum of Bologna. ' Long afterwards, Lord Moira told Mr. R. Payne Knight that he ' reckoned the having heard her sing an epoch in his life,' and that she gave him ' ideas of the power of expression in music which he should never otherwise have con- ceived.' Cf. the letter quoted by Pettigrew, vol. ii. p. 692. Sir Bjrooke Boothby was equally enthusiastic. * There is a drawing of her in this character by William Lock the amateur, and afterwards Consul at Palermo. * Morrison MS. 163. APPRENTICESHIP AND MARRIAGE 105 taught ' Attitudes,' by common consent of all beholders a marvel of artistic expression and refinement. Goethe, at this moment in Naples, and certainly no biassfed critic, was an eye-witness. He had been introduced by his friends, the German artists,^ to the Maecenas Ambassador and ' his Emma.'^ He thus records his impressions : — ' . . . The Chevalier Hamilton, so long resident here as English Ambassador, so long, too, connoisseur and student of Art and Nature, has found their counterpart and acme with exquisite delight in a lovely girl — English, and some twenty years of age. She is exceedingly beautiful and finely built. She wears a Greek garb* becoming her to perfection. She then merely loosens her locks, takes a pair of shawls,* and effects changes of postures, moods, gestures, mien, and appearance that make one really feel as if one were in some dream. Here is visible complete, and bodied forth in move- ments of surprising variety, all that so many artists have sought in vain to fix and render. Successively standing, kneeling, seated, reclining, grave, sad, sportive, teasing, abandoned, penitent, alluring, threatening, agonised. One follows the other, and grows out of it. She knows how to choose and shift the simple folds of her single kerchief for every expression, and to adjust it into a hundred kinds of headgear. Her elderly knight holds the torches for her performance, and is absorbed in his soul's desire. In her he finds the charm of all antiques, the fair profiles on Sicilian coins, the Apollo Belvedere himself. . . . We have already rejoiced in the spectacle two evenings. Early to-morrow Tischbein paints her.' ^ ^ Tischbein, Hackert, and Andreas, who were all busy painting Emma. — Morrison MS. 157, 159, 162. ^ ' Do you call me your dear friend ? Ah ! what a happy creature is your Emma — me that had no friend, no protector, nobody that I cou'd trust, and now to be the freind, the Emma of Sir William Hamilton.' — Morrison MS. 165. ' Perhaps the ' Turkish dress ' mentioned by her in a letter of this period. * The ' camel ' ones that she had in London, and often requested Greville to forward to her at Naples. Sir William presented her with one immediately on her arrival. ° Goethe, Italienische Reise, March 16, 1787, Works, vol. xix. p. 212. With this appreciation of Emma's ' Attitudes ' should be joined both Romney's, cited towards the close of this chapter, Lady Malmesbury's and Lady Elliot's io6 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON There are less familiar references also in the Italian Journey. On Goethe's return from Sicily in May, the author of Wertker, occupied with the art, the peasant life, and the geology of the neighbourhood, renewed his acquaintance with the pair and acknowledges their kind- nesses. He dined with them again. Sir William favoured him with a view of his excavated treasures in the odd ' vault,' where statues and sarcophagi, bronze candelabra and busts, lay disarranged and jumbled. Among them Goethe noticed an upright, open chest ' rimmed exquisitely with gold, and large enough to contain a life-size figure in its dark, inner background.' Sir William explained how Emma, attired in bright Pompeiian costume, had stood motionless inside it with an effect in the half-light even more striking than her grace as ' moving statue.' Goethe, ever curious, was now keenly interested in studying the superstitions of the Neapolitan peasantry, and among them those dumb shows of manger and Magi with which they celebrated Christmas-tide. In these, living images were intermixed with coloured casts of clay; And he hazards the remark — while deprecating it from the lips of a contented guest — that perhaps ' Miss Harte ' was at root not more than such a living image — a tableau vivant. Per- chance, he muses, the main lack of his 'fair hostess' is 'geist' or soulfulness of mind. Her dumb shows, he adds, were naturally unvoiced, and voice alone expresses spirit. Even her admired singing he then thought deficient in 'fulness.'^ Had Goethe, however, known her whole nature, he would have owned that if she were 'geistlos' in the highest sense, she was never dull, and was to prove the reverse of soulless ; while he, of all men, would have (1792 and 1796. Cf. The Life and Letters of the first Earl of Minto, vol. i. p. 406 ; vol. ii. p. 364). The former says : ' The most graceful statues or pic- tures do not give you an idea of them. Her dancing the Tarantella is beautiful to a degree'; and the latter '. . . singles out her " refined taste" and " extra- ordinary talent. " ' And also Madame Le Brun's Memoirs, p. 69. She invited the Dues de Berri and de Bourbon to see them in 1803. She had prepared ' a very large frame with a screen on either side of it,' and 'a strong limelight disposed so that it could not be seen.' ' She changed firom grief to joy, and from joy to terror so rapidly and effectively that we were all enchanted.' So too even Mrs. St. George in Yitt Journal. ' Works, vol. xx. pp. 12, 13. APPRENTICESHIP AND MARRIAGE 107 admired not only her enthusiasm but her more practical qualities. Did he, perhaps, in after years recall this mute and lovely vision when her name, for good or ill, had entered history? At any rate, though neither Hamilton nor Emma has noticed him in existing letters, they both endure on Goethe's pages ; and to have impressed Goethe was even then no easy task. That the creator of Iphigenia and Tasso was deeply impressed is proved by another and better known passage, where after praising Hamilton as ' a man of universal taste, who has roamed through all the realms of creation,' and has 'made a beautiful existence Which he enjoys in the evening of life,' he adds that Emma is ' a masterpiece of the Arch-Artist.' ^ To resume our dissolving views : a priest begs her picture on a box, which he clasps to his bosom. A countess weeps when she departs. The Russian empress hears her fame, and orders her portrait. Commodore Mel- ville gives a dinner to thirty on board his Dutch frigate in her honour, and seats her at the head as 'mistress of the feast' She is robed ' all in virgin white,' her hair ' in ringlets reaching almost to her heels,' so long, that Sir William says she ' look't and moved amongst it.' She has soon learned by rote the little ways of the big world, and whispers to him that it is gala night at San Carlo, and de rigueur to reach their box before the royal party entered theirs, which neighboured it. The guns salute ; the pinnace starts amid laughter, song, and roses, while ofif she speeds to semi-royal triumphs — 'as tho' I was a queen.' Serena's wholesome lesson is being half forgotten. Once more, Vesuvius 'looks beautiful,' with its lava- streams .descending far as Portici. She climbs the peak of fire at midnight — five miles of flame ; the peasants deem the mountain ' burst.' The climbers seek the shelter of the Hermit's cabin — that strange Hermit who had thus retired to solitude and exile for love of a princess.^ Has she not spirit ? Let Greville mark : ' For me, I was enraptured. I could have staid all night there, and I have never been in ^ Works, vol. xix. p. 220. " Alexandre Sauveur, who dared to love the Princess of Prussia. Cf. Memoirs of Countess Lichtenau (Colburn, 1809), vol. i. p. 69. io8 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON charity with the moon since, for it looked so pale and sickly. And the red-hot lava served to light up the moon, for the light of the moon was nothing to the lava.' Ascending, she meets the Prince-Royal. His ' foolish tuters,' fearful of their charge's safety and their own, escort him only half way, and allow him but three minutes for the sight. She asks him how he likes it. ' Bella, mapoca roba,' replies the lad. Five hundred yards higher he could have watched 'the noblest, sublimest sight in the world.' But the 'poor frightened creatures ' beat ' a scared ' retreat : ' O, I shall kill myself with laughing ! ' And is not the plebeian girl schooling herself to be a match for crass blue blood? 'Their as been a prince paying us a visit. He is sixty years of age, one of the first families, and as allways lived at Naples; and when I told him I had been at Caprea, he asked me if I went there by land. Only think what ignorance ! I staired at him, and asked him who was his tutor,' coolly remarks the femme savante who writes of ' as ' and ' stair.' ^ She cannot tear her eyes away from the volcano's awful pageant. She takes one of her maids — ' a great biggot ' — up to her house-top and shows her the conflagration. The contadina drops on her knees, calling on the city's patron saints: ' O Janaro [sic] mio, O Antonio mid' Emma falls down on hers, exclaiming, ' O Santa Loola mia, Loola mia I ' Teresa rises, and with open eyes inquires whether 'her Excellency' doubts the saints. 'No,' replies her mistress in Italian, 'it is quite the same if you pray to my own " Loola." ' ' . . . She look't at me, and said, to be sure, I read a great many books and must know more than her. But she says, "Does not God favour you more than ous?" Says I, no. " O God," says she, " your eccellenza is very ungratefull ! He as been so good as to make your face the same as he made the face of the Blessed Virgin's, and you don't esteem it a favour!" "Why," says I, "did you ^ Emma, however, was not alone in her censure of the less instructed majority of the countless Neapolitan nobility. The cultivated Marchesa di Solari says the same of them, always excepting their musical instinct: 'There is little or no difference between the manners of the lazzaroni and of the ancient nobility, except such of them as have travelled.' — Venice under the Yoke of France and Austria, vol. ii. p. 85. Lady Hamilton dancing the Tarantella at Naples. From a rare engraving after a dra%ving bv Lock\ APPRENTICESHIP AND MARRIAGE 109 ever see the Virgin ? " " O yes," says she, " you are like every picture that there is of her, and you know the people at Iscea fel down on their knees to you, and beg'd you to grant them favours in her name." And, Greville, it is true that they have all got it in their heads that I am like the Virgin, and — do come to beg favours of me. Last night there was two preists came to my house, and Sir William made me put a shawl over my head, and look up, and the preist burst into tears and kist my feet, and said God had sent me a purpose.' ^ Emma is in vein indeed. How buoyantly she swims and splashes on the rising tide ! How exuberantly the whole breathes of I always knew I could, if opportunity but walked towards me ! ' and of ' I will show Greville what a pearl he has cast away ! ' ^ Although she could be diffident when matched with genuine excellence or before those she loved, how the blare of her trumpet drowns all the still small voices ! One is reminded of Woollett, the celebrated eighteenth century engraver, who was in the habit of firing off a small cannon from the roof of his house every time he had finished a suc- cessful plate. What a profuse medley of candour and con- trivance, of simplicity and vanity, of commonness and elegance, of courtesy and challenge, of audacity and courage, of quick-wittedness and ignorance, of honest kindness and honest irreverence! She is already a born actress of realities, and on no mimic stage. Yet many of her faults she fully felt, and held them curable. ' Patienza,' she sighs, and time may mend them ; in her own words of this very period, ' I am a pretty woman, and one cannot be everything at once.' But a more delicate strain is audible when her heart is really touched. At the convent whither she resorted for daily lessons during Sir William's absence, now transpired an idyl which must be repeated just as she describes it : — ' I had hardly time to thank you for your kind letter of this morning as I was buisy prepairing for to go on my visit 1 Morrison MS. i68, August 1787; 158, November 1786. i* Years afterwards (1801) Nelson used this expression of Greville to Emma. Cf. post, chap. xii. no EMMA, LADY HAMILTON to the Convent of Santa Romita ; and endead I am glad I went, tho' it was a short visit. But to-morrow I dine with them in full assembly. I am quite charmed with Beatrice Acquaviva. Such is the name of the charming whoman I saw to-day. Oh Sir William, she is a pretty whoman. She is 29 years old. She took the veil at twenty; and does not repent to this day, though if I am a judge in physiognomy, her eyes does not look like the eyes of a nun. They are allways laughing, and something in them vastly alluring, and I wonder the men of Naples wou'd suffer the oneley pretty whoman who is realy pretty to be shut in a convent. But it is like the mean-spirited ill taste of the Neapolitans. I told her I wondered how she wou'd be lett to hide herself from the world, and I daresay thousands of tears was shed the day she deprived Naples of one of its greatest ornaments. She answered with a sigh, that endead numbers of tears was shed, and once or twice her resolution was allmost shook, but a pleasing comfort she felt at regain- ing her friends that she had been brought up with, and religious considerations strengthened her mind, and she parted with the world with pleasure. And since that time one of her sisters had followed her example, and another — which I saw — was preparing to enter soon. But neither of her sisters is so beautiful as her, tho' the[y] are booth very agreable. But I think Beatrice is charming, and I realy feil for her an affection. Her eyes. Sir William, is I don't know how to describe them. I stopt one hour with them ; and I had all the good things to eat, and I promise you they don't starve themselves. But there dress is very be- coming, and she told me that she was allow'd to wear rings and mufs and any little thing she liked, and endead she display'd to-day a good deal of finery, for she had 4 or 5 dimond rings on her fingers, and seemed fond of her muff. She has excellent teeth, and shows them, for she is allways laughing. She kissed my lips, cheeks, and forehead, and every moment exclaimed "Charming, fine creature," admired my dress, said I looked like an angel, for I was in clear white dimity and a blue sash.' (This, surely, is scarcely the seraphic garb as the great masters imaged it.) '. . . She said she had heard I was good to the poor, generous, and APPRENTICESHIP AND MARRIAGE in noble-minded. " Now," she says, " it wou'd be worth wile to live for such a one as you. Your good heart wou'd melt at any trouble that befel me, and partake of one's greef or be equaly happy at one's good fortune. But I never met with a freind yet, or I ever saw a person I cou'd love till now, and you shall have proofs of my love." In short I sat and listened to her, and the tears stood in my eyes, I don't know why ; but I loved her at that moment. I thought what a charming wife she wou'd have made, what a mother of a family, what a freind, and the first good and amiable whoman I have seen since I came to Naples for to be lost to the world — how cruel ! She give me a sattin pocketbook of her own work, and bid me think of her, when I saw it, and was many miles far of[f] ; and years hence when she peraps shou'd be no more, to look at it, and think the person that give it had not a bad heart. Did not she speak very pretty? But not one word of religion. But I shall be happy to-day, for I shall dine with them all, and come home at night. There is sixty whomen and all well-looking, but not like the fair Beatrice. " Oh Emma," she says to me, " the[y] brought here the Viene minister's wife, but I did not like the looks of her at first. She was little, short, pinch'd face, and I received her cooly. How different from you, and how surprised was I in seeing you tall in statu[r]e. We may read your heart in your counte- nance, your complexion ; in short, your figure and features is rare, for you are like the marble statues I saw when I was in the world." I think she flattered me up, but I was pleased.'* The convent cloisters bordered on those ' royal ' or ' English ' 2 gardens which Sir William and she were after- wards so much to improve ; and here, if the Marchesa di Solari's memory can be trusted — and it constantly trips in her Italian record — happened, it would seem, about this time,^ another incident typical of another side, more comic ' Morrison MS. 160, January 10, 1787. It should here be commemorated that one of her first actions at Naples was to procure a post for Robert White, a proteg^ of Greville. Ibid, i"]/^ " Morrison MS. 221. = From indications in her letter. Cf. Morrison MS. 157, December 26, 1786 (Emma to Sir William) : ' If I had the offer of crowns, 1 would refuse them and accept you, and I don't care if all the world knows it. . . . Certain it is I 112 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON than pathetic. It sounds like some interlude by Beau- marchais, and recalls Rosina or Figaro. Intrigue belongs to Naples. The young Goethe observed of the Neapolitan atmosphere : ' Naples is a paradise. Every one lives, after his manner, intoxicated with self-forgetfulness. It is the same with me. I scarcely recognise myself, I seem an altered being. Yesterday I thought " either you were or are mad." ' ^ The madcap belle's stratagem was this. Walking there one afternoon under the escort of her duenna, she was accosted by a personage whom she knew to be King Ferdinand. He solicited a private interview, and was peremptorily refused. He succeeded, however, in bribing her attendant, and followed her to a remote nook, where they would be unobserved. He pressed his promises with fervour, but Emma refused to listen to a word, unless every- thing was committed to paper. The monarch complied, and thereupon Emma hastened to the palace and urgently entreated an audience with the Queen. Sobbing on her knees, she implored her to save her from persecutions so great that unless they were removed she had resolved to quit the world and find shelter with the nuns. The Queen, touched by such beauty in such distress, urged her to dis- close the name of her unknown importuner. Thereupon Emma handed her the paper, was bidden by the Queen to rise, and comforted. So far there seems ground for the tale. The Marchesa says that Sir William ' partially ' con- firmed it ; and this must allude to the sequel which represents Maria Carolina as urging the Ambassador to marry his Lucretia without delay. Whether it is true that the tears of affliction were caused (as in The Taming of the Shrew) by an onion, and that Emma was ' on her marrow- bones ' in the garden while the Queen was perusing the tell-tale document, depends upon the number of embellish- love you and sincerely.' There is another letter where she says that she keeps the King at a distance. In this very year the prima donna Georgina Brigida Banti was whisked off suddenly in a coach across the frontier by the Queen's orders for presuming to favour the amorous King's attentions. Cf. Jeaffreson's Queen of Naples and Lord Nelson, p. 164, and cf. the Marchesa di Solari's Venice under the Yoke of France and Austria, vol. ii. p. 43. 1 Goethe, Italienishe Reise, March 16, 1787. Works, vol. xix. p. 211. APPRENTICESHIP AND MARRIAGE 113 ments such a farce would probably receive. If true, it hardly redounds to Emma's credit.^ But from Emma we must now part awhile to consider the social and political conditions of the court of Naples, very different now from what they were to become a few years later under the new forces of the French Revolution, and, afterwards, of the meteoric Napoleon. It is a panorama which here can only be sketched in outline. It was to prove the theatre of Emma's best activities. During the entire eighteenth century, from the War of Succession to the Treaty of Utrecht, from the Treaty of Utrecht to that of the Quadruple Alliance, from that again to those of Vienna and of Paris, the Bourbons and the Hapsburgs had been perpetually wrestling for the rich provinces of central and southern Italy — a prize which united the secular appeal to Catholic Europe with supremacy over the Mediterranean. The Bourbons, by a strange chain of coincidence, had prevailed in Spain, and in 173 1 'Baby Carlos ' solemnly entered on his Italian and Sicilian heritage, long so craftily and powerfully compassed by his ambitious mother, Elizabeth Farnese. The Hapsburgs, however, never relinquished their aim, though the weak and pompous Emperor, Charles VI., was reduced to spending his energies on the mere phantom of the ' Pragmatic Sanction ' by which he hoped to cement his incoherent Empire in the person of his masterful daughter ; he died hugging, so to speak, that ' Pragmatic Sanction ' to his heart. Maria Theresa proved herself the heroine of Europe in her proud struggle with the Prussian aggressor who for a time forced her into an unnatural and lukewarm league with the French Bourbons, themselves covetous of the Italian Mediterranean. Even after the French Bourbons were quelled, France, in the person of Napoleon, succeeded to their ambitions. Second only to his hankering after Eastern Empire, was from the 1 Cf. Venice under the Yoke of France and Austria, vol i. p. 66 et seq. Mr. Jeaffteson regards the whole as Emma's impudent fabrication. This can scarcely be so in view of the other evidence. The King, some twelve years later, called Emma 'Une maltresse femme.' She was certainly also always ready for a practical joke. It may be added that the same author gives the date of the Marchesa's visit to Naples as at the close of r79«. whereas it was in 1792. H 114 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON first the persistent hankering after Naples and Sicily of the would-be dominator of the sea, whose coast had been his cradle. Maria Theresa was therefore delighted when in April 1768 1 her eldest daughter, Maria Charlotte, better known as ' Maria Carolina,' espoused,^ when barely sixteen years of age, Ferdinand, son of the Bourbon Charles III. of Spain, then only one year her senior, and already from his eighth year King of the two Sicilies. Still more did she rejoice when two years later her other daughter, Marie Antoinette, married at the same age the Due de Berri, then heir-pre- sumptive to the French throne, which he ascended four years afterwards. Both daughters were to fight man- fully with a fate which worsted the one and extin- guished the other, while the husbands of both were true Bourbons in their indecision and their love of the table ; for of the Bourbons it was well said * that their chapel was their kitchen. ' King ' Maria Theresa educated all her children to believe in three things : their religion, their race, and their destiny. They were never to forget that they were Catholics, im- perialists, and politicians. But she also taught them to be enlightened and benevolent, provided that their faithful subjects accepted the grace of these virtues unmurmuring from their hands. They were to be monopolists of reform. They were also to be monopolists of power ; nor was husband or wife to dispute their sway. Indeed, the two daughters were schooled to believe that control over their consorts was an absolute duty, doubly important from the rival ascendency wielded by the Queens of the Spanish Bourbons, who for three generations had been mated with imbecile or half-imbecile sovereigns ; they had a knack of calling their husbands cowards. And they were to be monopolists of religion even against the Pope if he ^ Not 1767, as most English books give the date. * Another daug;hter had been first betrothed to him, but she died of a chill, contracted, it was said, from a midnight visit to the vaults of her ancestors, whose effigies Maria Theresa insisted on showing her daughter on the eve of her nuptials. When Maria Carolina reached Caserta for her wedding, she embarassed her young bridegroom by kneeling before him and bowing her face to the ground in supplication. ' Cf. a most interesting memoir, probably fiirnished by Lady Hamilton, in La Belle Assemblie for May 1807. * By the Bishop of Derry. APPRENTICESHIP AND MARRIAGE 115 unduly interfered. These lessons were graven on the hearts of all but Marie Antoinette, who shared the obstinacy but lacked the penetration of her sister and brothers. Maria Theresa's son and successor, Joseph 11. of Austria, showed to the full this union of bigotry and benevolence, both arbitrary yet both popular. He and his premier, Kaunitz, were strenuous in education and reform, but also strenuous in suppressing the Jesuits. His brothers were the same. Archduke Ferdinand played the benevolent despot in Bohemia, while Leopold, afterwards Grand Duke of the Tuscan dominions, was even more ostentatious in his high-handed well-doing. Never was a dynasty politer, more cultivated, more affable. But never also was one haughtier, more obstinate, or more formal. All were martyrs to etiquette, but all were also enthusiastic free- masons, and Queen Maria Carolina's family enthusiasm for the secret societies of ' Illuminati ' sowed those misfortunes which were afterwards watered with blood, reaped in tears, and harvested by iron. In 1790 Leopold, for a space, succeeded to Joseph ; and Maria Carolina was afterwards to see one of her sixteen children wedded to Francis,^ Leopold's successor on the Austrian throne, another to the King of Sardinia, a third, in the midst of her final calamities, united at Palermo to the future Louis Philippe. She thus became mother-in-law to an emperor of whom she was aunt, as well as to two monarchs ; while already she had been sister to two successive emperors. Her husband, Ferdinand IV., was a boor and bon vivant, good-natured on the surface, but with a strong spice of cruelty beneath it ; suspicious of talent, but up to the fatal sequels of the French Revolution the darling of his people. As the little Prince of Asturias, he had been handed to the tutorship of the old Duke of San Nicandro, who was re- stricted by the royal commands to instruction in sport, and in his own learning to a bowing acquaintance with his breviary. Inheriting a throne, while a child, by the accident of his ' Francis ii., in August 1806, resigned his emperorship of Germany, and became merely Emperor of Austria. Another of Maria Carolina's daughters was wedded to the young Archduke Ferdinand of Austria, while her eldest son eventually espoused the Archduchess Clementine, so that she achieved her purpose of overwhelming the Bourhon with the Hapsburg strain. ii6 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON father's accession to the Spanish crown, he had been reared in Sicily — always jealous of Naples — under the tutelage of Prince Caramanico, a minister of opera boufife, and of Tenucci.i a corrupt vizier of the old-world pattern, who preferred place to statesmanship, and pocket to power. The young King, however, was by no means so illiterate or unjust as has often been assumed, and, if he was ' eight years old when he began to reign,' the rest of the Scripture cannot then, at any rate, be justly applied to him. He remained throughout his life a kind of Italianised Tony Lumpkin, addicted to cards and beauty, devoted to arms and sport. Indeed, in many ways he resembled a typical English squire of the period, as Lord William Bentinck shrewdly observed of him some twenty-five years after- wards. Music was also his hobby. He sang often, but scarcely well ; and Emma, when he first began to practise duets with her, humorously remarked, ' He sings like a King' The people that he loved, and who adored him, were the Neapolitan Lazzaroni — not beggars, as the name implies, but loafing artisans, peasants, and fishermen, noisy, loyal, superstitious, rollicking, unthrifty, vigorous, in alternate spasms of short-lived work and easy pleasure — the natural and ineradicable outcome of their sultry climate, their mongrel blood, their red-hot soil, and their pagan past.^ Motley was their wear. As happens to all peculiar peoples, they could not suffer or even fancy alien conditions. When the Grand Duke and Duchess of Russia visited Naples in 1782 during an abnormal spell of February cold, they swore that the northerners had brought the accursed weather with them.^ They had their recognised leaders, their acknowledged improvisatores, their informal functions and functionaries, like a sort of unmigratory gypsy tribe. They had their own patois, their own customs, their own songs, their favourite monks. Such was the famous Padre Giordano, the six-foot portent of a handsome priest, the best preacher, the best singer, the best eater of macaroni in the King's dominions. They had, too, their own feuds, ' Often misnamed Tanucci. " This is accurate in the main. With the Lazzaroni proper, however, were mixed brigands from the provinces of the Fra Diavolo type. ' Morrison MS, APPRENTICESHIP AND MARRIAGE 117 in a country where even composers like Cimarosa and Paisiello were always at loggerheads and made separate factions of their own. All that they knew of England before 1793 was that their own Calabria furnished the wood for its vaunted ships. With the Lazzaroni, Ferdi- nand early became a prime favourite. He was not only their king, but their jolly comrade. He was a Falstaff king, even in his gross proportions ; a king of misrule in his boisterous humour. He was a Policinello king whose Bourbon nose won him the sobriquet of ' Nasone ' from his mountebank liegemen. He was a Robin Hood king, who early formed his own freebooting bodyguard ; he was also King Reynard the Fox, with intervals of trick and avarice, although, unlike that jungle - Mephistopheles, Ferdinand could never cajole. He was, in truth, both cramped and spirited — ' a lobster crushed by his shell,' as Beckford once termed him ^ — despite his defects both real and imputed, his want of dignity, his phlegmatic exterior and his rude antics. Every Christmas saw him in his box at San Carlo, sucking up macaroni sticks for their edification from a steaming basin of burnished 'silver, while the Queen discreetly retired to a back seat. Every Carnival witnessed him in fisher's garb playing at fish-auctioneer on the quay which served as market, bandying personal jests, indulging in rough horse-play, and driving preposterous bargains to their boisterous delight. This picturesque if greasy court would strike up the chorus in full sight of their macaroni-monarch : — ' S'e levata la gabella alia farina ! Evviva Ferdinando e Carolina.' He loved to play Haroun Alraschid — to do justice in the gate — and, when hunting, to pay surprise visits to the cabins of the peasantry and redress their wrongs ; though when the fit was on him he could scourge them with scorpions. In his rambles on the beach the despot would toss the dirtiest of his rough adherents violently into the sea, and if he could not swim, would then himself plunge into the water and bring him laughing from his first bath to the shore. It was one of these sallies that suggested to ' Cyrus Redding's Fifty Years' Recollections, vol. ii. p. 117. Ii8 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON Canova his marble Hercules throwing Lichas into the sea, acquired by the bankers Torlonia before they were styled princes ; and, indeed, the coarser side of Hercules as Euripides portrays him in the Alcestis bears some resemblance to this uncouth and burly Nimrod. While he was at first proud of his /emme savante and left affairs of state until 1779 almost entirely in her hands and Acton's, his jealousy tended more and more to treat her as a prideuse ridicule, and he grew fond of asserting his mastery by playing the Petruchio, sometimes to brutality. For a long time he was pro-Spanish, while his wife remained pro-Austrian, and came to abominate Spanish policy more than ever when in 1778 Charles IV. of Spain ascended the throne with a caballing consort whom Maria Carolina detested. Ferdinand boasted that his people were happy because each could find subsistence at home, and the time was still distant when to the proverb on his name of 'Farina' and 'Feste,' 'Forca' was superadded. If he pauperised his people with farinaceous morsels and festivities, he had never yet 'forced' them. Nor was he destitute of bluff wit and exceedingly common sense. In 1785 great efforts had been made under Acton's fresh influence to construct an imposing navy, which was paraded to the world by a royal progress — from its pomp and splendour called 'the golden journey' — to Leghorn and Tuscany, en route for Vienna. During their visit at the Tuscan Court, the pedantic Leopold asked Ferdinand what he was ' doing ' for the people. ' Nothing at all, which is the best,' guffawed the King in answer ; ' and the proof is that while plenty of your folk go wheedling and begging in my territory, I will wager anything you like that none of mine are soliciting anything in yours.' ^ The Queen, however, was an 'illuminata' by bent and ^ This anecdote is given by the Marchesa di Solari as happening during Leopold's earlier visit to Naples. The story as related elsewhere may be a blend of two passages .at arms between Ferdinand and his precise brother-in-law. Another and a new instance of his wit is given in a conversation of Sir W. Hamilton recorded (probably by Lady Hamilton) in La Belle AssembUe for May 1807. While his marriage was as yet childless, he observed that three miracles were distinguishing his reign : ' I am young, and have no children ' ; ' The Jesuits are dissolved, but their money is indiscoverable ' ; and — marvel of marvels — 'Tenucci, my minister, is old, and will never die.' APPRENTICESHIP AND MARRIAGE 119 upbringing. She was always devising theories and execut- ing schemes, and besides literature, botany, too, engrossed her attention. '^ It is a great mistake to judge either her or him in the light of after occurrences, and it is an error as misleading to judge even those events by the evidence of Jacobin pamphleteers, some of whom, and the most violent, did not hesitate to recant.^ It was only long afterwards that she became lampooned, and that the ' head of a Richelieu on a pretty woman ' was held up to execration in the words of the ancient diatribe on Catherine of M^dicis : — ' Si nous faisons Papologie De Caroline et J&abel, L'une fut reine en Italie, Et I'autre reine en Israel. Celle-ci de malice extreme, L'autre ^tait la malice m6me.' ' Neither King nor Queen, though both have much to answer for at the bar of history, were ever the pantomime- masks of villainy and corruption that resentment and rumour, public and private, have afiRxed to their names. The Queen's full influence was not apparent until the birth of an heir in 1777, when by a clause of her marriage- settlement she became entitled to sit in council. But long before, she had begun to inspire reforms very distasteful to the feudal barons who at first composed her court. She endeavoured to turn a set of antiquated prescriptions into a freer constitution, and to cleanse the Neapolitan homes. She limited the feudal system of rights — odious to the people at large — to narrow areas, and this popular limita- tion proved long afterwards the main cause of the nobility's share in the middle-class revolution of 1799.* The marriage laws were re-cast much on the basis of Lord Hardwicke's ^ Cf. Sir J. Banks's testimony so early as 1787. Eg. MS. 2641, f. 141. * Vincenzo Coco especially. ' Would casuists fine excuses try For Caroline and Jezebel, The one was queen in Italy, The other, queen in Israel. Extremes of malice marked the second, Malice itself the first was reckoned.' Cf. Crimes et Amours des Bourbons de Naples, Paris, Anon., 1861. A tissue of inaccuracies and falsehoods. * In Sicily the feudal system remained and there was no revolution there. I20 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON Act in England. The administration of justice was puri- fied.'^ Besides locating the University in the fine rooms of the suppressed Jesuit monastery, to some of which she transferred the magnificent antiques of the Farnese and Palatine collections, she founded schools and new institu- tions for the encouragement of agriculture and architecture. Even the hostile historian Colletta admits that she drew all the intellect of the age to Naples. Waste lands were reclaimed, colonies planted on uninhabited islands, exist- ing industries developed, and the coral fisheries on the African coasts converted into a chartered company. The evils of tax-gathering were obviated ; the ports of Brindisi and Baia restored ; highways were made free of expense for the poor ; tolerance was universally proclaimed ; the Pope's right to nominate bishops was defied ; nor was she reconciled to Pius VI. till policy compelled her to kneel before him in her Roman visit of 179 1. At the period now before us, most of the pulpits favoured her. Padre Rocco, the blunt reformer of abuses, Padre Minasi, the musical archaeologist, were loud in her praises. And this despite the fact that, though regular in her devotions and the reverse of a free-thinker, she resolutely opposed the 'crimping' system which from time to time reinforced the Neapolitan convents.^ She also bitterly offended the vested rights of the lawyers and the army. An enthusi- astic freemason (and long after her death the Neapolitan lodges toasted her memory),' she assembled around her through these societies a brilliant throng of savants and poets, while it was her special aim to elevate the intellects of women. Among the circle of all the talents around her were the great economist and jurist Filangieri,* revered by Goethe, but dead within two years after Emma's arrival ; the learned and ill-starred Cirillo and Pagano,^ who both perished afterwards in the Revolution ; Palmieri, Galanti, ^ For many of these facts, cf. Jeaffreson's Queen of Naples. ^ Cf. the remarkable correspondence between Acton and Hamilton about the case of Ann Saffory, an English girl, in 1788. Eg. MS. 2639, f. 18. ' Pepi Memoirs (1847). * Author of The Science of Legislation, 1 777 ; made Gentleman of the King's Bedchamber. In 1783 the Queen presented him with an estate at La Cava. ^ Author of / Saggi Politici. APPRENTICESHIP AND MARRIAGE 121 Galiani, Delfico, the scientists ; Caravelli, Caretto, Fala- guerra, Ardinghelli, Pignatelli, all lights of literature ; and Conforti, the historian. But perhaps the most interesting of all, and the most typical, was Eleonora de Fonseca Pimentel, subsequently muse and victim of the outburst in 1799. This remarkable poetess, Portuguese by origin, merits and has received a monograph.^ Up to 1793, indeed, this friend and disciple of Metastasio was the professed eulogist of the Queen. She styled her ' La verace virtute, e di lei figlio II verace valor.' * She joined her in denouncing ' Papal vassalage ' in Italy. When the royal bambino died in 1778 she indited her 'Orfeo' as elegy. When the 'golden journey' was accom- plished, the Miseno port re-opened, and the fleet re-organ- ised, her ' Proteus and Parthenope ' celebrated the com- mencement of a golden age. But what most aroused her enthusiasm was the foundation of that singular experiment in monarchical socialism — the ideal colony of San Leucio at Caserta between the years 1777 and 1779. This settlement was the first-fruits of the Queen's socialism, though its occasion was the King's liking for his hunting-box — built in 1773 at the neighbouring Belvedere, and on the site of the ancient vineyard and palace of the old Princes of Caserta. A church was erected in 1776 for a parish governed by an enlightened code of duties ' negative and positive,' and even then numbering no less than seventeen families. Some of the royal buildings were converted into schools ; even the prayers and religious ordinances were regulated, as were all observances of the hearth, and every distribution of pro- perty. Allegiance was to be paid first to God, then to the sovereign, and lastly to the ministers. Under Ferdinand's nominal authorship a book of the aims, orders, and laws of the colony was published, of which a copy exists in the British Museum.* On its flyleaf Lady Hamilton has herself ' Studii Storici, Benedetto Croce. Roma, 1897. 2 'True virtue, and the birth of virtue true. True courage. ' 2 1051 C. 17. 122 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON recorded : — ' Given to me by the King of Naples at Belvedere or S. Leucio the i6th of May 1793, when Sir William and I dined with his Majesty and the Duchess of Devonshire, Lady Webster, Lady Plymouth, Lady Bessborough, Lady E. Foster, Sir G. Webster, and Mr. Pelham. Emma Hamilton.' These names are in no accidental association. The then and the future Duchesses of Devonshire headed a galaxy of which Charles James Fox was chief, and to which Sir William's devotees, Lady 'Di' Beauclerk and the Honourable Mrs. Damer, also belonged. Eleonora's ode in its honour hymns the ' royal city ' where ' nature's noble diadem ' crowns ' the spirit of ancient Hellas.' But for all these undertakings, even before stress of invasion and vengeance for wrongs prompted large arma- ments and an English alliance, financial talent of a high order was needful ; taxation had to be broadened, and it could not be enlarged without pressing heavily on the professional classes, for the Lazzaroni were always privi- leged as exempt. The necessities which led to the shameful tampering with the banks in 1792-93 had not yet arisen ; but organising talent was needed, and organising talent was wanting. Tenucci proved as poor a financier as once our own Godolphin or Dashwood. Jealous of Carolina's manifest direction, he caballed, and was replaced as first minister in 1776 by the phantom Sambuca. Even then the pro-Spanish party among the grandees menaced the succession well-nigh as much as the pro-Jacobins did some five years later. Even then it was on very few of the numberless Neapolitan nobles (a ' golden book ' of whom would outdo Venice and equal Spain) that the perplexed Queen could rely. Caramanico was a mere monument of the past, and as such con- signed to England as ambassador ; while his young and romantic son Joseph was reputed the Queen's lover, and forbidden the court. The coxcomb and procrastinator, Gallo, who afterwards ratted to Napoleon, was already mismanaging foreign affairs. The old and respectable Caracciolo, father of that rebel admiral whom Nelson was to execute, was for the moment Minister of Finance, but approaching his end. That Admirable Crichton, Sir John ActOn. From the orighial portrait recently acquired by the National Portrait Gallery of Naples. APPRENTICESHIP AND MARRIAGE 123 Prince Belmonte, afterwards as 'Galatone' ambassador at the crucial post of the Madrid Embassy, now pre- ferred the office of Chamberlain to any active direction of affairs. Prince Castelcicala, twice ambassador to the court of St. James's, and nearly as acceptable to the Queen as Belmonte, had not yet been pressed into home concerns, nor had he disastrously earned his inquisitorial spurs of 1793. Sicigniano, who was to commit suicide when am- bassador in London in the same year, belonged to the same category ; the young and accomplished Luigi di Medici had not yet emerged into a prominence that proved his doom. Prince Torella was a nonentity ; the Rovere family, which was to supply the Sidney or Bayard ^ of the Revolution, was not now of political significance. The professional classes were as yet excluded from government, and creatures like the notorious Vanni were denied power. Amid the general dearth the excitable Queen was at her wit's end for a capable minister. During her Vienna and Tuscan visits of 1778 she consulted, as always, her august relations ; and the result was their recommendation of John Francis Edward Acton, whose younger brother had for some time been serving in the Austrian army. In consenting to the trial of an unknown man, middle-aged and a foreigner, the Queen hardly realised to what grave issues her random choice was leading. Acton, third cousin of Sir Richard Acton of Aldenham Hall, Shropshire, to whose baronetcy and estates he most unexpectedly succeeded in 1 791, was the son of a physician. Catholic and Jacobite, settled at Besangoni He was born in 1736, and may have first entered the French Navy, which he quitted probably as a cadet in search of advance- ment, and not because of the vague discredits afterwards imputed by the Jacobins. The British Navy he could scarcely have contemplated, because in the days of the Georges^ Catholicism and Jacobitism were grave impedi- ' Prince Ettore Carafa. 2 It was so even in 1778. Tlje Bishop of Derry, writing to Sir William from Albano in the June of that year about the prospects of the Count of Albany, observes very much after his manner : — ' England has left them [the Catholic Jacobites] no other method but force to recover their just rights. What a Madness in our Government not to legalise the daily exercise they make 124 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON ments to success. At the age of thirty-nine he entered the naval service of Carolina's brother, the Grand Duke Leopold of Tuscany, and attracted Caramanico's notice by his bravery as Captain on a Spanish expedition against the Moors. Summoned by a stroke of luck to control a realm at once ambitious and sluggish, he infused English energy at every step. A martinet by training and disposition, shrewd, worldly, calculating, yet sturdy, and for Naples, where gold always reigned, inflexibly honest, he was well capable of defying and brow-beating the supple Neapolitan nobility who detested his introduction. A smooth-tongued adventurer, though good looks were not on his side, he speedily won the favour of a Queen in- clined to make tools of favourites, and favourites of tools ; but he soon convinced her also that a mere tool he could never remain. He was naturally pro-British, and Britain was already a Mediterranean power : Acton recommended the country of his origin to the Queen's notice in the veriest trifles. It was not many years before Maria Carolina was driving in the English curricle which Hamilton had pro- vided for her.^ Little else than a stroke of destiny, under the conjunctures of the near future, brought the new foreigner into close alliance with Sir William Hamilton, whose patriotism in the very year when he was lolling with Sir Horace Mann at Portici had expressed itself in a fervent wish to see France ' well drubbed,' and a fury at the non-support of Rodney by Government.^ The different natures of the two perhaps cemented their friendship. Hamilton for all his natural indolence could rise to emer- gency; Acton, on the contrary, was all compromise and caution — a sort of Robert Walpole in little, with ' steady ' for his motto. Hamilton was good-tempered to a fault : Emma wrote of him after her marriage that he preferred 'good temper to beauty.' In Acton lay a strong spice of of their Religion ; as if a man were a less faithfull subject or a less brave soldier for being fool enough to believe that to be Flesh which all the world sees to be only Bread ; or as if doing that legally which he now does illegally would render him a more tumultuous or a more dangerous cityzen.' — Morrison MS. 83. 1 Cf. Eg. MS. 2639, f. 16. " Morrison MS. 92, 1780. APPRENTICESHIP AND MARRIAGE 125 the bully, and he could be very unjust if his authority was impugned.^ He was a born bureaucrat, and it was his love of bureaucracy, as will appear, that ruined the Queen. Acton was twice married ; the second time, by special dispensation, to his niece in 1805. By his first wife he had a family ; ^ but neither they nor the Lady Acton of this period play any part in the drama before us. Starting as an Admiral of the Neapolitan Fleet, he soon became Minister both of Marine and War. Carac- ciolo the elder's opportune transference to diplomacy in Paris and London, which Acton's future libellers accused him of contriving, as afterwards even of causing his death, installed him as Minister of Finance. He at once advised the institution of thirteen Commissioners who could all be censured in event of failure; ^divide et impera' was his principle ; and at first his resource proved successful. He was soon made also a Lieutenant-General ; while some ten years later, in his heyday, he was appointed Captain- General, and at last a full-blown Field-Marshal. But long before, he blossomed into power with the Queen, whose anti-Spanish policy chimed with his own, and whose ab- horrence of the pro-Spanish functionaries around her required a champion in council. This created two camps in the court, for up to 1796 the King was pro-Spanish to the core. But the Queen was already predominant, and it was soon bruited that the Latin ^ hie, hcec, hoc' meant Acton, the Queen, and the King thus derided as neuter ; indeed some added that Acton was ' hie, hcze, hoe ' in one. In a brief space Acton had consolidated a powerful fleet — which in 1793 he was able to despatch in aid of the English at Toulon ^ — and a formidable army. The French events of 1789 rendered him all the more indispensable to Maria Carolina, whose ears were terrified by the first rumblings of an earthquake so soon to engulf her sister's family. The Bastille was taken, the Assembly held, and fawning false-loyalty loomed fully as dangerous as ' Cf. the incident related by the Marchioness Solari of the peasant who suffered from Acton's temper because the King had left Acton unconsulted in an act of grace, Venice under the Yoke of France,' etc., vol. ii. p. 49. "^ Some of its descendants are still at Naples. ' Pep4 p. 12. 126 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON uproarious Jacobinism. In the same year America estab- lished her 'Constitution.' The American rebellion was the parent of the French Revolution ; already, and even on ground so lately British, persecutions prevailed that made shrewd officials, like Greville, dread the orgies probable should this new leaven ferment in Latin and Celtic blood. Already the sisters of Louis XVI., the three old 'demoiselles de France,' were on the verge of abandoning Paris for Rome; already the charged air tingled with Liberty, Equality, Fraternity; already Carolina, masking hysterical restiveness by imperious com- posure, was debating if armed help were possible from Austria as well as from Naples. But the irritated barons were unwarlike, the King cared little, the lawyers still depended on his favour, the intelligent middle-class was beginning to welcome the Gallic doctrines. Austria, toO, was by no means ready. And yet in Carolina's ears the hour of doom was already striking. She longed for an untemporising deliverer, a self-sacrificing friend, a leader of men and movements ; and as she longed and champed in vain, she could only wait and hope and prepare.^ Her anxiety was not that of a normal woman. Calm in mind, in love and hate her ardour ran to extremes. Though she owned a far better head than her unhappy sister, her heart, outside her home and in spite of her passions, was far colder. She was truly devoted to her children, she was fond of romping even with the children of strangers ^ ; and yet when her sons-in-law grew lukewarm in aiding her, she could rage against her daughters. Jealousy of her ogling and dangling consort was often a prime motive for her actions ; and yet she had often been femme galante, and was ever bent on mystery and intrigue. She harped on duty, but her notions of duty rested on maintaining the royal birth- right of her house. Masterful as her mother, light-living 1 Cf. for the foregoing bird's-eye survey, besides the books and MS. quoted, A. Dnmas' / Borioni, Palumibo's Maria Carolina, Sacchinelli's and Helfert's Ruffo, Cuoco's Saggi Storici, and Jeaffreson's Queen of Naples and Lord Nelson. Life and Letters of the First Earl of Minto, vol. ii. p. 364, and cf. Madame Le Brun's Memoirs, p. 72. She praises her as a misunderstood and magnani- mous woman. ' She had a fine character and a good deal of wit.' APPRENTICESHIP AND MARRIAGE 127 as her eldest brother, she was neither hard nor frivolous. She could be both ice and fire. Her strange temperament combined the poles with the equator. The year 1789 proved critical for Emma also. It brought to Naples, among other illustrious visitors, the good and gracious Duchess of Argyll, formerly Duchess of Hamilton, who, as the beautiful Miss Gunning, had years before taken England, and indeed Europe, by storm. She had come southward for her health. Her first marriage had related her to Sir William, and no sooner had she set eyes on Emma than she not only countenanced her in pubhc but conceived for her the most admiring and intimate friendship. Hitherto the English ladies had been coldly civil, but under the lead of the Duchess they now began to follow the Italian vogue of sounding her praises. Emma became the fashion. It was already whispered that she was secretly married to the Ambassador,^ and had she been his wife she could scarcely have been more heartily, though she would have been more openly, accepted. Her request that she might accompany Sir William, the King, and Acton on one of their long and rough sporting journeys had been gladly granted. She had attended her deputy- husband on his equally rough antiquarian ramble through Puglia, made in the spring of 1789. 'She is so good/ he informed Greville, 'there is no refusing her.'^ By the spring of 1790 not only the Duchess but the whole Argyll family lavished kindness on the extraordinary girl whom they sincerely respected.* The new Spanish ambas- sador's wife also had become her intimate friend. Madame Le Brun, too, repaired in the wake of the French troubles to Naples, and was besieged for portraits. Madame Skavonska, the Russian ambassador's handsome wife, so empty-headed that she squandered her time in vacancy on a sofa, was her first sitter.* Emma, brought by the eager Hamilton, was the second, and during her sittings she was accom- 1 Lord Elcho, who had been with the Argylls in Naples, bruited this abroad in Switzerland in 1790. Cf. Morrison MS. 191. 2 Morrison MS. 177. " ^Ud. 180. * The notorious Prince Potemkin was her lover, and Lord Bristol in one of his letters wondered what would become of her on his death a few years later. 128 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON panied by the Prince of Monaco and the Duchess of Fleury. Madame Le Brun, herself by no means devoid both of jealousy and snobbishness, raved of her beauty, but formed no opinion of her brain, while she found her ' supercilious.' ^ This is curious, for by common consent Emma gave herself no airs ; she conciliated all. But though never a parvenue in her affections, she could often behave as such in her dislikes ; and she could always prove aggressive when faced by jealous or freezing condescension. Her improvement both in knowledge and behaviour had from other accounts enhanced her accomplishments. No breath of scandal had touched her ; she was Hamilton's unwedded wife, and her looks had kept even pace with her forward path in many directions : she was fairer than ever and far less vain. The Queen herself already pointed to her as an example for the court, to which, however, Emma could not gain formal admittance until the marriage which she had predicted in 1786 had been duly solemnised. For that desired climax everything now paved the way. Each night in the season she received fifty of the dlite at the Embassy, till in January 1791 her success was crowned by a concert and reception of unusual splendour.^ The stars of San Carlo performed. The court ladies vied with each other in jewels and attire. The first English, as well as the first Neapolitan, ladies thronged every room ; there were some four hundred guests. Emma herself was conspicuously simple. Amid the blaze of gems and colours she shone in white satin, set off by the natural hues only of her hair and complexion. And yet she was not elated. Her one study, her single aim, she wrote to Greville, were to render Sir William, on whom she ' doated,' happy. They had already passed nearly five years together, ' with all the domestick happiness that 's possible.'* Was there any rift within the lute? If so, it lay in Greville's attitude. He opened his eyes and sighed as he read of Emma's virtuous glory ; and he opened them still wider when she assured him of her ' esteem ' for ' having been ' Madame Le Brun's Memoirs, p. 68. ■ Morrison MS. 189. « Ibid., 189. APPRENTICESHIP AND MARRIAGE 129 the means of bringing ' them ' together.' That Sir William should marry her quite passed the bounds of his philosophy ; there would be an Mat, and Eclats he detested ; his uncle would make himself ridiculous. It seems likely, from an allusion in a letter from Hamilton of a full year earlier, that the nephew had already thrown out hints of suitable pro- vision should chance or necessity ever separate the couple. Sir William, however, had been deaf to such suggestions, although, 'thinking aloud,' he did mention £\'t,o a year to Emma, and £^,0 to her mother, ' who is a very worthy woman.' ^ Such contingencies, however, could not apply to their present ' footing,' for ' her conduct was such as to gain her universal esteem.' The only chance for such a scheme hinged on her pertinacity in pressing him to marry her. ' I fear,' he continued, ' that her views are beyond what I can bring myself to execute, and that when her hopes on this point are over, she will make herself and me unhappy.' But he recoiled from the thought ; despite the difference in their ages and antecedents, ' hitherto her con- duct is irreproachable, but her temper, as you must know, unequal.' ^ And now all these obstacles had melted in eighteen months under the enchanter's wand of the charming Duchess, who had urged Sir William to defy convention and make Emma his wife. Sir William's fears were not for Naples, nor wholly for Greville, who might laugh if he chose. They were rather for the way in which his foster- brother. King George, and his Draco-Queen, might receive such news, and in what fashion they might manifest their displeasure ; the Ambassador, however much and often he was wont to bewail his fate, had no notion of retiring to absurd obscurity. But these objections also seem to have been equally dispersed by the fairy godmother of a Duchess who was bent on raising Cinderella to the throne ; and although Queen Charlotte eventually refused to receive Lady Hamilton, yet Sir William's imminent return was in fact signalised by the honour of a privy councillorship. 1 The two sums represented the allowance made by Sir William, and never increased even after marriage. 2 Morrison MS. 187. I 130 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON Long afterwards, he assured Greville that his treatment when he was eventually replaced, and subsequently when he was denied reimbursement for his losses and his services, both of which were to go as unrewarded as his wife's, was not due to the king but to his ministers.^ Moreover, his two old Eton School friends, Banks and the ubiquitous Lord Bristol, Bishop of Derry, had signified their approval. The latter in his peregrinations had already worshipped at Emma's Neapolitan shrine — a devotee at once generous and money-grubbing, cynical and ingenuous, constant and capricious, who (in Lady Hamilton's words) 'dashed at everything,' and who was so eccentric as to roam Caserta in bishop's garb and a white hat. This original — a minia- ture mixture of Peterborough, Hume, and, one might add, Thackeray's Charles Honeyman — had braced Hamilton's resolution by telling him it was only ' manly fortitude ' to brave a stupid world and secure Emma's happiness and his own.? Sir William, whose inclination struggled with Greville's prudence, could not gainsay his friends who echoed the wishes of his heart. And all this was the work of the Duchess of Argyll. No wonder that her sad death at the close of 1790, far away from the climate which had proved powerless to save her, desolated Emma. ' I never,' she assured Greville, who already knew of their home-coming in the spring, ' I never had such a freind as her, and that you will know when 1 see you, and recount ... all the acts of kindness she shew'd to me : for they where too good and numerous to describe in a letter. Think then to a heart of gratitude ^ From a letter in the writer's possession, written by Greville immediately after his uncle's decease to one of the then Foreign Secretaries. This letter will be found in the Appendix (E(i)). It may at once be said that it contains a most important confirmation of Emma's 'claims.' Not only does it establish the strong recommendation of them by Sir William on his death-bed, but the precise Greville in an official note declares that he ' knows ' ' that the records of your office confirm the testimony of their Sicihan Majesties by letter as well as by their Ministers.' Furthermore, this very letter is referred to by Emma in one of her traduced 'Memorials.' It is quite forgotten by modern critics that Hamilton's own services met with equal neglect, and that the reasons given by ministers for not requiting both them and Lady Hamilton's were never that they doubted the truth of the services of either of them. 2 Morrison MS. 200. APPRENTICESHIP AND MARRIAGE 131 and sensibility what it must suffer. Ma passiema: io ho ' 1 The marriage project was first to visit Rome, where they would meet the Queen, about to be reconciled to the Pope, on her homeward journey from Vienna. Then to repair to Florence, where they could take a short leave both of her and the King ; and thence to Venice, where they were to encounter, besides many English, the cream of the flying French noblesse, including the Counts of Artois and Vau- dreuil, the Polignacs, and Calonne.^ Before May was over they would be in London, and there, if things went smoothly, the wedding should take place. Emma's heart must have throbbed when she reflected on the stray hazards that might still wreck that happiness for which she had long pined, and overthrow the full cup just as it neared her lips. Greville was unaware of the dead secret, but he implored Emma not to live in London as she had done in Naples ; he pressed the propriety of separate establishments. Emma laughed him to scorn. The friend of the late Duchess and her friends could afford to flout insular opinion. But she laughed too soon : had she been wiser she might possibly have propitiated the Queen of England by discretion. It further happened that Greville's official friend and Emma's old acquaintance, Heneage Legge, met and spied on the happy pair at Naples, just before he and they left for Rome ; he promptly reported progress to Greville, who had plainly asked for enlightenment. The unsuspecting Hamilton called on Legge immediately to proffer him every friendly service. Mrs. Legge was in delicate health, and Emma, too, kindly offered to act as her companion, or even nurse. Legge was embarrassed ; his wife civilly declined Emma's attentions, 'kindly in- tended,' but owing to Emma's 'former line of life' impos- sible to accept. These proprieties confirmed Sir William's determination, and aroused Emma's ire. The one was accustomed to observe that the 'reformed rake' proverb ' Morrison MS. 189, January 1791. Emma's Italian orthography was still as unequal as her tamper. Her constant refrain. It recurs in letters even of 1806 ; of. Appendix, Part II. O. (3). 2 Morrison MS. 193. April 22, 1791. 132 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON applied fully as much to a woman as a man. The other felt herself mortified and insulted just when her virtues rang on every lip. If the frail Lady Craven, for instance, were good enough to touch the hem of Mrs. Legge's garments, why not Emma, who had rashly hastened to be kind ? Legge must tell the rest himself : ' Her influence over him exceeds all belief. . . . The language of both parties, who always spoke in the plural number — we, us, and ours — stagger'd me at first, but soon made me deter- mined to speak openly to him on the subject, when he assur'd me, what I confess I was most happy to hear, that he was not married ; but flung out some hints of doing justice to her good behaviour, if his public situation did not forbid him to consider himself an independent man. . . . She gives everybody to understand that he is now going to England to solicit the K.'s consent to marry her. ... I am confident she will gain her point, against which it is the duty of every friend to strengthen hjs mind as much as possible ; and she will be satisfied with no argu- ment but the King's absolute refusal of his approbation. Her talents and powers of amusing are very wonderfuU. Her voice is very fine, but she does not sing with great taste, and Aprili [szc] says she has not a good ear ; her Attitudes are beyond description beautifull and striking, and I think you will find her figure much improved since you last saw her. TAey say they shall be in London by the latter end of May, that their sta,y in England will be as short as possible, and that, having settled his affairs, he is determined never to return. She is much visited here by ladies of the highest rank, and many of the corps diplomatique; does the honours of his house with great attention and desire to please, but wants a little refine- ment of manners in which ... I wonder she has not made greater progress. I have all along told her that she could never change her situation, and that she was a happier woman as Mrs. H. than she wou'd be as Lady H., when more reserved behaviour being necessary, she wou'd be depriv'd of half her amusements.' ^ Sound sense enough, but most unlikely to convince ' Morrison MS. 190; Legge to Greville, Naples, March 8, 1791. APPRENTICESHIP AND MARRIAGE 133 Emma's self-confidence. Mrs. Legge, too, and afterwards Queen Charlotte, were justified in excommunicating Emma before her marriage; such decencies are concerns of pre- cedent, the etiquette of morality. But it is surely a cruel and un-Christian precedent, to set up without exception that a girl who had raised and trained herself as Emma had done should be debarred from the possibility of legiti- mate retrieval. Such standards savour far more of the world than of Heaven. And, at all events, it must be conceded that at this period Emma, who had been beloved not only by the Duchesses of Argyll and Devonshire, but by such young ladies as Miss Carr, could not possibly have hurt or soiled the British matron. There may well have been quite as much unamiable envy as injured innocence in the blank refusal to let her show that she was a kind and helpful woman, even though she had not always been irreproachable. London was reached at last, and the King's reluctant sanction obtained. They were f^ted and entertained by the Marquis of Abercorn, by Beckford at Fonthill, and by the Duke of Queensberry, who gave a brilliant concert at Richmond in their honour, where Emma herself performed.^ But her chief delight was her reunion with those art coteries where she had ever felt herself freest and most at home. One of her first visits was to Cavendish Square. On a June morning she surprised Romney — an apparition in 'Turkish dress' — while he was ailing and melancholy. Neither his trip in the previous year, nor the warm friend- ship of Hayley, who had now fitted up a studio for him at Eartham, could exorcise the demon of dejection which brooded over him. The wonderful girl whose career he had watched afar, cheered him back to his former source of inspiration. His letters to Hayley of this date^ are full of her. She was eager that her old friend should recognise that she was 'still the same Emma.' She sat for him constantly, and besides his many other studies ' Newspapers of the summer of 179 1. ^ Hayley's Life of Romfiey, pp. 158-165, and cf. the catalogue of MS. letters in Add. MS. 30,895, f. 59, which supplements the letters there tran- scribed. 134 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON and portraits of her, he at once made her the model of his Joan of Arc, the idea of which his recent journey across the Channel had suggested. Both this and a ' Magdalen ' were commissioned by the Prince of Wales, who seems to have met her at the Duke of Queensberry's. He painted her as ' Cassandra,' he designed to paint her as ' Constance,' he commenced a fresh ' Bacchante.' ^ He dined with her and Sir William, and they both dined thrice with him, first in July 2 and afterwards in August. He broke his rule of solitude in order that 'several people of fashion' might behold the performances of one whom he declared ' superior to all womankind.' She in her turn begged him to let Hayley set about writing his life. All that she did or said fascinated him ; and the fondest father, remarks his biographer, could not have taken a keener pleasure in the marriage of a favourite daughter than did Romney in her imminent wedding. Her acting and singing so transported him, that he was on the point of posting off near midnight to fetch Hayley from Eartham. ' She performed both in the serious and comic to admiration : but her " Nina ' " — a part two years later the especial delight of Maria Carolina — 'surpasses everything I ever saw, and I believe, as a piece of acting, nothing ever surpassed it. The whole company were in an agony of sorrow. Her acting is simple, grand, terrible, and pathetic' It was this power of moving others that, according to a tradition often re- peated by the late Sir Francis Hastings Doyle, once so worked on Nelson ten years afterwards, that he walked up and down the crowded room muttering, ' D Mrs. Siddons ! ' with whom somebody had contrasted her.* On the occasion just mentioned Gallini, the impresario, offered her ;£'2000 a year and two benefits ' if she would engage with him ' ; but, in Romney's words, ' Sir William said pleasantly that he had engaged her for life.' For a few weeks Romney fancied her attitude towards him altered; the mere suspicion disquieted his nerves, but ' Possibly the picture now known as ' Mirth.' ^ Add. MS. 30,805, f. 51. ' This anecdote originates perhaps with Mrs. St. George [Mrs. Trench] in her Journal, recounting the ffites (and slanders) during the Nelson-Hamilton visit to Dresden in 1801. Emma Lvon, Lady Hamii/ion, as Oss./.vzja'.j. By G. Komnkv. From a first stale of the J\Iezzotint irt Hayle Life of Romney. APPRENTICESHIP AND MARRIAGE 13S the cloud was soon dispelled. Meanwhile Hayley, who was to compose a fresh poem on her just before her wedding.i indited the following :— ' Gracious Cassandra ! whose benign esteem To my weak talent every aid supplied, Thy smile to me was inspiration's beam, Thy charms my model, and thy taste my guide. But say ! what cruel clouds have darkly chilled Thy favour, that to me was vital fire ? O let it shine again ! or worse than killed, Thy soul-sunk artist feels his art expire.' On her very wedding day Emma sat for the last time to the great artist for that noble portrait of her as the 'Ambassadress,' and she and her husband 'took a tender leave ' ^ of one inseverable from her for ever. Hamilton and she were the talk of the town. When they drove out or went to parties, or entered the box at Drury Lane, every eye was upon them, and it was at Drury Lane that the acting of Jane Powell brought together the two former mates in servitude as the admired of all beholders. All this must have nettled Greville, of whose feelings at this time there is no record. But his opposition does not seem to have been serious, for Sir William and Emma passed their time in a round of visits to the whole circle of his relations, who were mostly* her keen partisans. Lord Abercorn, indeed, went so far as to protest that her person- ality had 'made it impossible' for him 'to see or hear without making comparisons ' ; * and from this time forward Lord William Douglas also became Emma's lifelong upholder. The summer of 1791 was unusually hot, and from the latter part of July to mid-August they stayed with relatives in the country, including Beckford, when Emma for the first time beheld the Oriental and the Gothic glories, the mounting spire, the magic terraces, the fairy gardens, and all the bizarre splendours, including its owner, of Fonthill Abbey. ' Add. MS. 30,805, f. S. " Add. MS. 30,805, f. 51- ' Not so the Dowager Countess of Warwick, or his niece Mrs. Dickenson, formerly Mary Hamilton, whose famed vocal prowess Emma was said to have eclipsed. * Morrison MS. 198. 136 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON On the whole, this perilous experiment had succeeded, although Queen Charlotte's ban doubtless rankled in Emma's breast.^ The King himself was more pained than offended, and had confirmed Hamilton in the security of his appointment. Nor was it only grand folks or old friends that Emma had frequented. It is clear from allusions in shortly sub- sequent letters that both she and her mother visited that ' poor little Emma ' who had re-awakened the longings of motherhood in the old but unforgotten days of Parkgate. On September 6th Sir William and ' Emy,' or ' Emily,' Lyon were duly wedded at Marylebone Church, long asso- ciated with the Hamilton family. The marriage was solemnised by the Rev. Doctor Edward Barry, rector of Elsdon, Northumberland. The witnesses were Lord Abercorn and L. Dutens,* secretary to the English Minister at Turin, with whom Emma long maintained a faithful friendship.* Her heart was overflowing. She felt, as she told Romney, so grateful to her husband, so glad in restored innocence and happiness, that she would ' never be able to make ' him ' amends for his goodness.' They started homeward by way of Paris, where they were to see for the first and last time that tortured Queen who was fast completing the tragedy of her doom. Hence- forward the name of ' Hart ' is heard no more. Hencefor- ward Emma is no longer obscure, but, as Lady Hamilton, passes into history. ' The Queen would never receive Lady Hamilton even after the return of the Hamiltons to England, and Nelson will be found angry that Sir William would go to court alone ; cf. post, chap. xii. ' Parish Register, Marylebone Church. ' Immediately on her return to Naples she begged Romney to send him, as token, a portrait of herself— 'the little picture with the black hat.' — Morrison MS. 199. She will be found inviting him to Piccadilly in 1801. CHAPTER VI TILL THE FIRST MEETING 1791-1793 Lady Hamilton returned to bask in social favour. It was not only the Neapolitan noblesse and the English wives that courted and caressed her. Their young daughters also vied with each other in attentions, and vowed that never was any one so amiable and accomplished as this eighth wonder. Among these was a Miss Carr, who not long afterwards married General Cheney, an Aide- de-Camp to the Duke of York, during the next few years more than once a visitor at Naples. The writer possesses a miniature in water-colour, drawn by this young lady, of the friend to whom she long remained attached. Emma sits, clad all in white, with an air of sweetness and repose. At the back of this memento she has herself recorded : 'Emma Hamilton, Naples, Feb. 11, 1792. I had the happiness of my dear Miss Carr's company all day; but, alas, the day was too short.' There is nothing in this likeness to betoken the purpose and ambition which she was shortly to display in the side- scenes of history. Horace Walpole had written, ' So Sir William has married his gallery of statues.' Emma soon ceases to be a statue, and becomes prominent in the labyrinth of Neapolitan intrigue ; her rdle as patriot begins to be fore- shadowed. Throughout these three critical years of stress and shock momentous issues were brewing, destined to bring into sharp relief and typical collision the two giants of France and England, Napoleon and Nelson ; while all the time, under fate's invisible hand, Nelson was as surely tending 137 138 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON towards Naples and Emma, as Emma was being drawn towards Nelson. From the moment of her return in the late autumn of 1791 she began, at first under Hamilton's tuition, to study and understand the political landscape. Nowhere outside France did the Revolution bode omens more sinister than at the Neapolitan court. The Queen clearly discerned that her French sister and brother-in-law trembled on the brink of destruction. She knew that the epidemic of anarchy must endanger Naples among the first, and might involve the possible extinction of its dynasty. She was not deceived by the many false prophets crying peace where no peace was ; still less by the wild schemes for hairbreadth escapes which sent visionary deliverers scouring through Europe. Her one hope— soijn rudely shattered — lay in Austria's power to eflfect a coalition of great powers and strong armies. She had just quitted the family council in Vienna, following on the death of her brother Joseph the Second, and the short-lived accession to the throne of her other brother Leopold, the pedantic philanthropist. Its object had been, in Horace Walpole's phrase, to ' Austriacise ' the position of the Italian Bourbons, by family inter-marriages and a betrothal.^ Her efforts were bent on a league against France, and it was for this that on her way home she had contrived a surprise meeting with the weak Pope Pius VI., penetrated the Vatican, abjured her anti-papal policy, and humiliated herself in the dust. And yet Louis XVI. besought her to suspend efforts which might rescue him, and shrank from embittering his false friends. Austria, too, was for seven years to prove a broken reed. Spain was never a whole-hearted enemy of France, and within three years was to become her ally. The Queen awoke to a fury of indignation and hopelessness. Her foes were those of her own household — her nobles, her husband, his Spanish brother and sister, — and herself. Hitherto she had been reckoned an enlightened patroness, ' Of her daughter Maria to Leopold's son, the Grand Duke of Tuscany, soon to ascend the Austrian throne as Francis the Second, and to be branded as ' falso Italiano, falso Tedesco ' ; of her second daughter, Luigia Amalia, to the Archduke Ferdinand ; by the betrothal also of her eldest son, now only thirteen^ to the sickly Archduchess Maria Clementina. TILL THE FIRST MEETING 139 compassing the equality and fraternity of subjects who had never required political liberty. She had stubbornly re- sisted the Spanish Machiavellianism which had manoeuvred to undermine those very freemasonries which Maria Caro- lina had founded and forwarded.^ Spain was, in truth, the key of the present position. Spain was befooling Ferdinand and spiting his wife at every turn. The Spanish queen coveted Naples for her own offspring, and the two queens abominated each other. She was quite aware that the pro-Spanish party, abetted by her blockhead of a husband, covertly designed the transference of the Crown of the two Sicilies to the Duke of Parma, while many of the Neapolitan nobles, affronted at the abolition of their feudal rights, were in secret confederation with it. She sprang from a house glorying in its despotic monopoly of popular principles, yet it was to such fatalities that these very principles were leading. Stability and authority had been her aims, yet the ground was fast slipping from beneath her feet. She was a true scion of the casuist Hapsburgs, who had always considered pride as a sacred duty, and who, if their system were imperilled, would be ready to defend it by conscientious crimes. In the refrain of her own subsequent letters, ' // faut /aire son devoir j'usgu'au tombeau.' ^ And added to all this was the shifting mood of her consort, whose infidelities she (like the queen of our own George the Second) only condoned in order that his good humour might enable her to rule. He had always twitted her with being an ' Illuminata,' he now derided her as the ' Austrian hen.' * His advisers would prompt him to rely more than ever on his Spanish kindred, to slight the Hapsburgs and herself. When Emma long afterwards claimed to have ' De-Bourbonised ' the Neapolitan court, it was to these conditions that she referred.* ' The court of Madrid had gone so far as to induce Gallo, through Pallanti, to make a raid on those societies and to brave the anger of their royal patroness. — Pepe, p. 17. ' To Lady Hamilton, Eg. MS. 1615, f. 58. ' Venice under the Yoke, etc., vol. ii. p. 48. The King said to Gallo, ' Ah ! Gallo, Gallo, se non fosse per quella Gallina d'Austria vi farei vedere chi sono.' * The non-perception of this fact has led Mr. Jeaffreson astray. I40 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON Gallo, the foreign minister, leaned towards and upon Spain. Even Acton hitherto had been content to pro- pitiate the King by taking his cue from Madrid. The King himself had regarded England merely as a market for dogs and horses,^ the Queen only as an enemy of Spain. That the attitude of both was shortly to be trans- formed was due to Emma's enthusiasm as spokeswoman for her husband. Even in February 1796 Emma wrote to Lord Macartney, who had just arrived at Naples, 'the Queen is worn out with her effort to persuade Ferdinand to take a decided attitude against the ply of Spain,' and that ' she approves of all our prospects.^''' The moot question soon became, Was Naples to be Spanish or English ? The Austrian influence, so prized by an Austrian princess, was on the wane. As England's advocate the light-hearted Emma was drawn into the political vortex, and assumed the mysterious solemnity befitting her part. In her perplexity it was to Acton that Maria Carolina turned. She thought him a man of iron, whereas he was really one of wood ; but he was methodical, pro- Austrian, and at the core pro-English. Under the imminence of crisis, he and Hamilton — still a man of pleasure, but not its slave — both came to perceive that unless the whole system of Europe was to be reversed, an Anglo-Sicilian alliance was impera- tive. Hamilton, however, was slower to discern the neces- sity which Emma realised by instinct. Writing in April 1792, he says: 'The Neapolitans, provided they can get their bellies full at a cheap rate, will not, I am sure, trouble their heads with what passes in other countries, and great pains are taken to prevent any of the democratic propaganda, or their writings, finding their way into this kingdom.'* Even in 1795 he was to be more concerned with the success of his treatises on Vesuvius than with the tangle of treaties fast growing out of the situation.* It was not till 1796 that he took any strong initiative with * Cf. Morrison MS. 105. Lord Pembroke to Sir W. Hamilton, Oct. 16, 1791 , where he complains of the King's sporting agent, ' Calabria.' ^ Morrison MS. 274. ^ Morrison MS. 208. * Morrison MS. 252. One of them was being read before the Royal Society. TILL THE FIRST MEETING 141 Acton.i The two Sicilies indeed were now a shuttlecock between the treacheries of Spain and the dilatoriness as well as venality of Austria.^ But for England the French cataclysm meant something wholly different from its significance for the Continent. Great Britain stood alone and aloof from other powers. She was the nurse of traditional order and traditional liberty conjoined ; disorder and licence, although exploitable by political factions under specious masks, never appealed to the nation at large. Britain's upheavals had been settled by happy compromise more than a century before. Jacobinism menaced her ' free ' trade, and might strike even at her free institutions. She was a great maritime and a Mediterranean power whose coign of vantage in Gibraltar would prove useless if Naples and Sicily, Malta and Sardinia* should fall to France. Sicily, indeed, had been one of her objectives in that great Utrecht Treaty which had transferred it to the friendly house of Savoy, while it secured Gibraltar and Port Mahon to Great Britain, And ever since, Spain had been England's sworn enemy. Spain was France's natural ally, nor would the revolutionary burst long deter the Spanish Bourbons from an anti- British policy. Spain had tricked Austria and braved Great Britain throughout the eighteenth century, yet it was on Spain that Maria Carolina's husband habitually relied. From England, too, throughout that century, had rained those showers of gold which had subsidised the enemies of Bourbon preponderance. 'Will England,' wrote Acton ' Cf. Eg. MS. 2639, f. 333. He quotes Pontano's inscription in the Chapel of S. Maria : ' Audendo, agendoque res publica crescit, non his consiliis quae timidi cauta appellant.' 2 The writer has a letter of October 31, 179S, from the burrowing Lord Bristol (then at Berlin) to Lady Hamilton, which tells her ' The poor Austrian General [i.e. Wurmser] . . . had no orders, no permission from that execrable Council of War at Vienna, one half of which are publickly known to be sold to the National Convention. Lord Longford and his pedantick friend Mr. Knott are just arrived from Vienna — they assure me nothing can be more notorious or more publickly talked of than the Venality of the Council of War. . . Dearest Emma, tell our dear inestimable Queen firom me that unless she has weight enough to get that infamous Council of War abolished, suppressed, annihilated, 'tis impossible that a General can either seine his advantage ot pursue it. ' ^ Under the then conditions of warfare. Nelson always insisted that Sardinia was the key to the Mediterranean position. 142 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON some years later to Hamilton, when Emma, as the Queen's ' minister plenipotentiary,' ^ had ' spurred ' them on, ' see all Italy, and even the two Sicilies, in the French hands with indifference? , . . We shall perish if such is our destiny, but we hope of selling dear our destruction.'^ In England the remonstrant Burke forsook the pseudo- Jacobin Whigs. It was hoped, and not without reason, that Pitt as a great statesman might foresee the situation. But the difficulty all along in the British cabinet, and some- times the obstacle, was to prove Lord Grenville,* cold, stiff, timid, official to a fault ; so hesitating that he twice coun- selled the two Sicilies to make the best peace they could with Buonaparte, before whom he quailed ;* and so diplomatic that, even after Nelson's Mediterranean expedition had been concerted between the two courts, he begged Circello, the Neapolitan Ambassador, to pretend discontent in public with what had just been privately ratified.* In the same year, defending the ministry against the Duke of Bedford's abortive motion for their dismissal, and praising the gallant navy ' which had ridden triumphant at the same moment at the mouths of Brest and Cadiz and Texel,' the Secretary for Foreign Affairs could only be wise after the event. He could only defend the prolongation of war by Barere's threat of ' Delenda est Carthago,' by Condorcet's opinion that under a peace we should have been relieved of Jamaica, Bengal, and our Indian possessions ; by bemoaning England's vanished ' power to control the Continent,' by proclaiming that she was ' at her lowest ebb,' and by complaining that Austria had deserted the Alliance.^ Commenting on his attitude, thirteen years afterwards, towards Emma's claims, Canning, who warmly favoured them, dwells on the same characteristic of ' coldest caution.' '' Such a spirit could ill ^ In June 1798. Eg. 1618, f. 7, ' Je vous fais mon ministre pUnipotencier. ' 2 Eg. MS. 2640, ff. S3- 55. 3 Cf. Acton's letter August 29, 1793, Eg. MS. 2639, f. 66, and ibid. f. 353, where Acton says that Grenville always ' chicaned.' * Eg. MS. 2639, ff. 313, 32s, 329. 6 Eg. MS. 2640, f. 63. ' * Cf. British Museum 8132 D., f. 9, 1-16. Greville, writing on January 10, 1792, says : ' The crisis of France is not far distant. Our Government will not dare involve us ; they are in alarms about India,' — Morrison MS, 20i. ' Rose's Diaries, vol. i. p. 263. TILL THE FIRST MEETING 143 deal with the conjuncture. Mob-despotism was now the dread of Europe.^ Mob-rule was already rampant in France, though the time was still distant when the Marchioness of Solari could declare that the French had robbed her of all but the haunting memory of Parisian gutters swimming with blood.* Acton acceded to the Queen's request with rigour, but his weak point lay in the fact that he was a born bureaucrat ; while the sort of bureaucracy that he favoured, one of secret inquisition, turned political offences into heresies, and Jacobins into martyrs. Bureaucracies may check, but have never stemmed, revolutions which are calmed — when they can be calmed — by commanding personality alone. A bureaucrat is never a trusted nor even a single figure, for he belongs to unpopular and unavailing groups and systems which from their nature must at best be temporary stop- gaps. As Jacobinism throve and persevered, the Lazzaroni, who execrated it as a foreign innovation, cheered their care- less King, but they came to hiss the Queen for her counte- nance of bureaucracy, until Nelson entered the arena, and Emma formed, in 1799, a 'Queen's party,' at the very moment when Maria Carolina dared not so much as show her face at Naples. Already in the spring the French events began to affect Naples. Mirabeau dead, the abortive escape to Varennes, Louis XVI. in open and abject terror, Danton and Potion bribed, the National Convention, the cosmopolitan cries of ' Let us sow the ideas of 1789 throughout the world. . . . We all belong to our country when it is in danger. . , . Liberty and equality constitute country,' spread their contagion broadcast. They did not yet inflame the Neapolitan middle class ; they never caught the Neapolitan people ; but their ' Nelson's future letters constantly point to this factor. Deploring the condi- tion of Rome in August 1799, he observes to Sir James St. Clair Erskine : ' In Civita Vecchia are about 1000 Regulars with the whole country against them, but such mobs are'going about plundering that they ... are sometimes good Repub- licans, and sometimes their bitterest enemy. This mobbing system has its desire of getting also into the Neapolitan Dominions, which would thus be in nearly as bad a state as when in possession of the French.' He then adverts to ' anarchy and confusion,' etc. Cf. the excerpt in Sotheby's catalogue for July 8, 1905. " She adds that but for her writing she roust have gone mad. 144 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON leaven had already touched the offended nobles * and the ungrateful students. From the moment of Louis' imprison- ment in the Temple, his sister-in-law changed her tack and resolved to go ' Thorough.' The pulpits were pressed into an anti-Jacobin crusade. The administration of the twelve city wards, hitherto supervised by elected aldermen, was transferred without warning to chiefs of police as judges and inspectors. Denouncers and informers were hired, although as yet the brooding Queen used her spies for pre- caution alone, and not for vengeance. The republican seed of the secret societies, sown by her own hands, had borne a crop of democracy ripening towards harvest. Her academic reformers were fast developing into open revolutionaries. The red cap was worn and flaunted. Copies of the French Statute were seized in thousands as they lurked in sacks on the rocks of Chiaromonte ; two even found their way into the Queen's apartments. This conspiracy she hoped to nip in the bud. It had not assumed its worst proportions ; nor as yet had disloyalty thrown off" the mask, and appeared as a bribed hireling of the National Convention.^ The grisly horrors at Paris of 1792, preluding only too distinctly the crowning executions of 1793, called also for sterner mea- sures. By July, Beckford, an eye-witness, remarks that even Savoy was ' bejacobinised, and plundering, ravaging,' were 'going on swimmingly.'® The Queen bestirred herself abroad. A league was formed between Prussia and Austria. The Duke of Brunswick issued his manifesto that one finger laid on Louis would be avenged. Danton exclaimed, ' To arms ! ' France, generalled by Dumouriez, heroof Jemappes, and Kellermann of Valmy, was invaded. The assassination of Gustavus of Sweden followed. But the brief victory of the confederate arms at Longwy soon yielded to the Valmy defeat. Monarchy was on its trial. Once more the Queen conferred with Acton, and their ' Colonna, Rlario, Pignatelli, etc., who had then no commerce with the professional class that the Queen had always exalted, and that the nobles were beginning to envy. ' Morrison MS. 238. The writer has a letter in which Acton emphasises the extreme jeopardy of affairs in 1793. Pesched the banker, and Falco the physician, plotted even in 1794 to kill the King. " Morrison MS. 212. TILL THE FIRST MEETING 145 deliberations resulted in the detestable Star Chamber of the ' Camera Oscura.' Force was to be met by force, and cabal by cabal. Prince Castelcicala,^ a far abler minister than Acton,^ was recalled from London to assist in its councils; Ruffo, not yet Cardinal, became its assessor; while the stripling Luigi di Medici, under the title of 'Regente della vicaria,' became its head inquisitor.* But mercy was still shown. Colletta himself, an historian certainly unbiassed in the Queen's favour, admits that she had no idea of ' persecution.' Most odious means, however, were taken to crush a conspiracy of foreign and unpopular origin. Some hundreds of the better class, some thousands of the scum, were banished, or confined in the prisons of Lampedusa and Tremiti. Such is an imperfect outline of what hap- pened in 1 79 1 and 1792.* The interview of the Hamiltons with Marie Antoinette on their homeward journey has been already noticed. Nearly twenty-four years afterwards Lady Hamilton, never accurate, and constitutionally exaggerative, declared in her last memorial under the pressure of sore distress, that she then presented to the Queen of Naples her sister's last letter. There is little doubt that substantially she told the truth. She was the bearer of a missive, for Marie Antoinette neglected none of her now rare chances of communication. About the same time, however, the Marchioness of Solari also repaired from Paris to Naples with another communication. Emma has been roundly trounced for her statement by such as occasionally survey history with the diminishing end of their telescope. It is hardly worth while debating whether all credence should be denied to the bearer of an important letter simply on the 1 He was replaced as Ambassador in England by Sicigniano, after whose suicide the Marquis of Circello succeeded. "■' In Nelson's opinion. ' He was himself to head a fresh conspiracy in 1795. Cf. Hamilton's letter to G. Elliot at Vienna of January 27 of that year. Eg. MS. 2638, f. 147. This shows how untrue la fable convenue has been in ascribing Medici's fall to Acton's vindictiveness. * In the foregoing, besides the MS. and authorities cited, cf. General Pep^'s Memoirs, Dumas' History of the Italian Bourbons (from the Archives), Croce's references in Eleonora Fonseca di Pimentel, and Coco's Saggio Storico, General Macdonald's Souvenirs, Nardini's Mimoires. K 146 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON ground of priority. But, as a matter of fact, the Marchioness paid two visits about this time to Naples, and the month of the first may well have preceded that of Lady Hamilton's arrival there in 1791. Moreover, the Marchioness's own language points to a merely verbal message on the first occasion,^ and not to a ' letter ' at all. Whether or no this incident fastened afresh the Queen's regard, certain it is that Maria Carolina gave the mot eTordre for Lady Hamilton's acceptability. Nobody disputed her position, least of all the English. She was at once formally presented to the Queen. By mid-April of 1792 Sir William Hamilton could tell Horace Walpole, just acced- ing to his earldom, that the Queen had been very kind, and treated his wife 'like any other travelling lady of dis- tinction.' 'Emma,' he adds, 'has had a difficult part to act, and has succeeded wonderfully, having gained by having no pretensions the thorough approbation of all the English ladies. . . . You cannot imagine how delighted Lady H. was in having gained your approbation in Eng- land. . . . She goes on improving daily. . . . She is really an extraordinary being.' ^ Within a month of her arrival in the previous autumn, and in the midst of successes, she sat down to write to Romney. The tone of this letter deserves close attention, for no under-motive could colour a communication to so old and fatherly a comrade : ' I have been received with open arms by all the Neapolitans of both sexes, by all the foreigners of every distinction. I have been presented to the Queen of Naples by her own desire, she [h]as shewn me all sorts of kind and affectionate attentions ; in short, I am the happiest woman in the world. Sir William is fonder of me every day, and I hope I [he ?] will have no corse to 1 Cf. Venice under the Yoke of France and of Austria, p. 78. The Mar- chioness states generally that (from 1791-93) she was entrusted with ' letters,' but explains the term in the same paragraph by averring that she ' was often charged with verbal messages of a nature too delicate to be committed to paper in those perilous times.' Mr. Jeaffreson has left this unnoticed, and he has assumed that the Marchesa paid her short and secret visit of 1791 after Emma's return from London. He evidently confuses this with the later visit of October 1793. But the Marchioness was herself by no means accurate in details. 2 Morrison MS. 208, April 17, 1792. TILL THE FIRST MEETING 147 repent of what he [h]as done, for I feel so grateful to him that I think I shall never be able to make him amends for his goodness to me. But why do I tell you this ? You was the first dear friend I open'd my heart to ; you ought to know me.^ . . . How gratefuU then do I feel to my dear, dear husband that has restored peace to my mind, that has given me honors, rank, and what is more, innocence and happiness. Rejoice with me, my dear sir, my friend, my more than father ; believe me, I am still that same Emma you knew me. If I could forget for a moment what I was, I ought to suffer. Command me in anything I can do for you here ; believe me, I shall have a real pleasure. Come to Naples, and I will be your model, anything to induce you to come, that I may have an opportunity to show my gratitude to you. . . . We have a many English at Naples, Ladys Malm[e]sbury, Maiden, Plymouth, Carnegie, and Wright, etc. They are very kind and attentive to me ; they all make it a point to be remarkably cevil to me. Tell Hayly I am always reading his Triumphs of Temper; it was that that made me Lady H.,for God knows I had for five years enough to try my temper, and I am affraid if it had not been for the good example Serena taught me, my girdle wou'd have burst, and if it had I had been undone ; for Sir W. minds more temper than beauty. He therefore wishes Mr. Hayly wou'd come, that he might thank him for his sweet-tempered wife. I swear to you, I have never once been out of humour since the 6th of last September, God bless you.' ^ Romney, whose friend Flaxman, now in Rome, counted himself among Emma's devotees,* replied in terms of humble respect. He deprecated the liberty of sending a friend with a letter of introduction, and only wished that he could express his feelings on the perusal of her 'happyness.' ' May God grant it may remain so to the end of your days.'* How ' attentive ' to her Lady Plymouth and the English 1 Here follows the passage about her ' sense ot virtue ' not being overcome in her earliest distresses, quoted ante in chap. ii. ' Morrison MS. 199. ' Morrison MS. 307, and cf. his interview and Hayley's with her and Nelson in l%02, post, chap. xii. ■* Morrison MS. 210. 148 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON sisterhood were at this early period is shown by a letter which changed hands during the present year. It is couched not only in terms of afTection, but of trust. If the French terror became actual at Naples, Lady Plymouth would take refuge with Lady Hamilton, and ' creep under the shadow of ' her ' wings.' The leaders of English society relished, as always, a new sensation, and, away from England, delighted to honour one so different from themselves. While so much underground disturbance proceeded, the outward aspect of court and city was serenity itself. Ancient Pompeii could not have been more frivolously festive. Ill as they suited her mood, the Queen, from policy, encouraged these galas. They distracted the court from treason, they pleased her husband and people, and they attracted a crowd of useful foreigners, especially the English, who, during these two years, inundated Naples to their Ambassador's dismay. The distinguished English visitors of 1792 included the sickly young Prince Augustus, after- wards Duke of Sussex, whose delicate health and morganatic marriage ^ alike added to Hamilton's anxieties. But for the disturbed state of the Continent, 'Vathek' Beckford — to whom Sir William was always kind — would have revisited his kinsman also. He had not long quitted his 'dear' and queenly friend ' Mary of Portugal,' and was now travelling through Savoy with a retinue worthy of Disraeli's Sidonia and composed of half the imigris, musicians, and cooks — chefs dorchestre et de cuisine — of Versailles ; * and Emma's old friend Gavin Hamilton was also among the throng.® A correspondence* between husband and wife during the January of this year, and his absence with the King at Persano, is pleasant reading, and pictures a happy pair. The Ambassador, who up to now had found his business in sport, cheerfully roughing it on bread and butter, going > With Lady Augusta Murray, to whom he was a devoted husband in the teeth of his father's and brother's opposition. Lady Hamilton continued to enjoy his firiendship long afterwards. The Estes, Nelson's and her friends and correspondents, were related. = Morrison MS. 212, 213. ' Stowe MS. 1020, f. 2. < Nelson Letters, vol. ii. pp. I37-I39- TILL THE FIRST MEETING 149 to bed at nine and rising at five, reading, too, ' to digest his dinner,' is affectionate and playful. He was ' sorry,' he writes on leaving, that his 'dear Em' must 'harden' herself to such little misfortunes as a temporary parting ' ; but he 'cannot blame her for having a good and tender heart' 'Believe me, you are in thorough possession of all mine, though I will allow it to be rather tough.' His diary of the hour flows from a light heart and pen. He tells her the gossip : ' Yesterday the courier brought the order of St Stephano from the Emperor^ for the Prince Ausberg,^ and the King was desired to invest him with it. As soon as the King received it, he ran into the Prince's room, whom he found in his shirt, and without his breeches, and in that condition was he decorated with the star and ribbon by his majesty, who has wrote the whole circum- stance to the Emperor. Leopold may, perhaps, not like the joking with his first order. Such nonsense should certainly be done with solemnity ; or it becomes, what it really is, a little tinsel and a few yards of broad ribbon.' His watchful wife, in her turn, acquaints him with London cabals to dislodge him from office. ' Our conduct,' he answers with indignation, ' shall be such as to be unattack- able. . . . Twenty-seven years' service, having spent all the King's money, and all my own, besides running in debts, deserves something better than a dismission. ... I would not be married to any woman but yourself for all the world.' And again, ' I never doubted your gaining every soul you approach. . . . Nothing pleases me more than to hear yon do not neglect your singing. It would be a pity, as you are near the point of perfection.' The very etiquette of the Embassy he leaves with confidence in her hands. 'You did admirably, my dear Em., in not inviting Lady A. H,' to dine with the prince, and still better in telling her honestly the reason. I have always found that going straight is the best method, though not 1 Leopold. * He was illiterate. Cf. Nelson Letters, p. 158. ' Having no opportunity of making lore does nothing but talk of his new flame, which is Lady A. Hatton. I put him right, for he thought she spelt her name with two rr instead of t wo rt. ' ' Hatton. Cf. the last note. ISO EMMA, LADY HAMILTON the way of the world.^ Yoq did also very well in asking Madame Skamouski, and not taking upon you to present her [to the Queen] without leave. In short, consult your own good sense, and do not be in a hurry ; and I am sure you will always act right, ... As the Prince asked you, you did right to send for a song of Douglass's,^ but in general you will do right to sing only at home.' He also politely deprecates his plebeian mother-in-law's attendance at formal receptions. But Emma, throughout her career, dis- dained to be parted for a moment. Unlike most parvenues, she never blushed for the homely creature who had stood by her in the day of trouble, and her intense love for her mother, even, when it stood most in her way, ennobles her character. The Neapolitan revelries were sometimes the reverse of squeamish : ' Let them all roll on the carpet,' he writes, ' provided you are not of the party. My trust is in you alone.' It should be marked that from other letters of this series it is evident that even thus early Lady Hamilton was copying and translating despatches. Sir William was naturally torpid, and his enthusiasm centred on the wife who bestirred him. His efforts to keep eternally young were already being damped by the deaths of contemporaries. That of his old intimate. Lord Pembroke, in 1794,* was to evoke a characteristic comment : — ' It gave me a little twist ; but I have for some time perceived that my friends, with whom I spent my younger . days, have been dropping around me.' The close of 1792 saw the first of those serious illnesses through which Emma was so often to nurse him. For more than a fortnight he lay in danger at Caserta. Lady Hamilton was 'eight days without undressing, eating, or sleeping.' The Queen and King sent constantly to in- quire. Although Naples was distant sixteen miles, Ladies Plymouth, Dunmore, and Webster, with others of the ' Cf. Nelson's 'upright and straightforward.' ^ Lord W. Douglas, Sir W.'s relation. ^ The letter from which this excerpt comes is wrongly included in this series of 1792. A letter exists from him in June 1793. Morrison MS. 225. TILL THE FIRST MEETING 151 British contingent, offered even to stay with her. She tells her dear Mr. Greville (how changed the appellation !) of her ' great obligations,' and of her grief. ' Endead I was almost distracted from such extreme happiness at once to such misery. . . . What cou'd console me for the loss of such a husband, friend, and protector? For surely no happiness is like ours. We live but for one another. But I was too happy. I had imagined I was never more to be unhappy. All is right. I now know myself again, and shall not easily fall into the same error again. For every moment I feel what I felt when I thought I was loseing him for ever.'^ This is the letter concerning her grand- mother to which reference has already been made. Since I lay stress on the fact that Emma was a typical daughter of the people both in scorn and affection, that she was warm-hearted, unmercenary, and grateful, and that she never lowered the natures of those with whom she was brought into contact, another excerpt may be pardoned: — ' I will trouble you with my own affairs as you are so good as to interest yourself about me. You must know I send my grandmother every Cristmas twenty pounds, and so I ought. I have 200 a year for nonsense, and it wou'd be hard I cou'd not give her twenty pounds when she has so often given me her last shilling. As Sir William is ill, I cannot ask him for the order; but if you will get the twenty pounds and send it to her, you will do me the greatest favor ; for if the time passes without hearing from me, she may imagine I have forgot her, and I would not keep her poor old heart in suspense for the world. . . . Cou'd you not write to her a line from me and send to her, and tell her by my order, and she may write to you ? Send me her answer. For I cannot divest myself of my original feelings. It will contribute to my happiness, and I am sure you will assist to make me happy. Tell her every year she shal have twenty pound. The fourth of November last I had a dress on that cost twenty-five pounds, as it was Gala at Court ; and believe me I felt unhappy all the while I had it on. Excuse the trouble I give you.' ' Morrison MS. 215 ; Caserta, December 4, 1792. 152 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON The end of 1792 and the whole of 1793 loomed big with crisis. The new year opened with the judicial murder of the French King, it closed with that of Marie Antoinette. Her execution exasperated all Europe against France. England declared war ; Prussia retired from the first Coalition, and the second was formed. An Anglo-Sicilian understanding ensued. Through the arrival of La Touche Tr^ville's squadron at Naples, the French sansculottes shook hands with the Italian. Hood's capture of Toulon, Napoleon's undoing of it, and Nelson's advent in the Agamemnon, opened out a death-struggle unfinished even when the hero died. To the Queen's promptings of temperament and habits of principle were now to be added the goads of revenge. Jacobinism for her and her friends soon came to mean the devil. And with this year, too, opened also Lady Hamilton's intimacy with the Queen, her awakening of her listless husband, and her keen endeavours on behalf of the British navy. The worst hysteria is that of a woman who is able to con- ceal it. Such was now the Queen's. The overture to this drama of 1793 was her formal dismissal of Citizen Mackau,^ for a few months past the unwelcome Jacobin representa- tive of France at the Neapolitan court ; at the same time, the Queen's influence procured the dismissal of yet another 'citizen' ambassador at Constantinople.^ Tr^ville's fleet promptly appeared to enforce reparation. His largest vessel dropped anchor in face of Castel Del Uovo, and the rest formed in line of battle behind it. A council was called. The Anglo-Sicilian treaty was yet in abeyance, and with shame and rage Maria Carolina had to submit, and receive the minister back again. But this was not all. No sooner had Tr^ville departed than a convenient storm shattered his fleet, and he returned to refit. His sailors ' On his departure he took with him the family of Basseville his secretary, who had been murdered under the eyes of the Supreme Pontiff at Rome. Cf. Dumas' / Borboni. After Mackau returned, he was replaced for a time by the Comte de Michelle, he again by La Ch&e, and he, in his turn, by Garat. Emma in her 'Prince of Wales' memorial of 1813 confuses Michelle with Garat. " S^mouville. TILL THE FIRST MEETING i53 hobnobbed with the secret societies, and a definite re- volution began. France had hoped for attack ; open war being refused, she renewed her designs by stealth. The Queen, incensed beyond measure, redoubled her suspicions and her precautions. To the secret tribunal she added a closed 'Junta,' and the grim work of de- portation and proscription set in. All Naples, except the Lazzaroni, rose. Despite the Neapolitan neutrality, Maria now organised a second coalition against France, which was at first successful,^ The French, too, were beaten off Sardinia. In August she renewed her desperate attempts to save her sister;* the jailor's wife was inter- viewed. Archduchess Christine contrived to send the Marquis Burlot and Rosalia D'Albert with carte blanche on a mission of rescue. It was too late : they were arrested. But Toulon was betrayed by Trogoff to Hood, who took possession of it for Louis xvii. Meanwhile, repression reigned at Naples. Every French servant was banished ; some of the English visitors, among them Mr. Hodges, the present and future pesterer of Emma by his attentions, were implicated.* The Queen, mistrust- ful of the crew who had played her false, turned to Emma in her misfortunes, for Lady Hamilton was now quite as familiar with the royalties as her husband.* One of the Neapolitan duchesses long afterwards insinuated to the Marchioness of Solari that Emma's paramount influence was due to spying on them and the libertine King.^ This may at first have been so (though envy supplies a likelier reason), but the real cause lies deeper. The Queen's corre- spondence commences in the winter of 1793, and it is quite clear that its mainspring was sympathy. ' At Magonza. * She wrote to poor young Tonlan, ' Aina poco chi teme dimorire.' ' Lord Hervey's and the Prince of Wales's friend. Cf. Eg. MS. 2639, ff. 97 and 123. * Cf. Morrison MS. 220, March 12, 1793. Hamilton to Greville. " Abominable and unfounded rumours, both of her and the Queen, passed current among the French Jacobins, who fastened the same filth with as little foundation on Marie Antoinette. Emma told Greville how she despised and ignored the lying scandals of Paris which Napoleon afterwards favoured ftom policy. He used to call Maria Carolina ' Fr^degonde,' in allusion to the cruel mistress of King Chilperic I. 154 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON ' Par le sort de la naissance L'un est roi, I'autre est berger. Le hasard fit leur distance ; L'esprit seul peut tout changer.' ' The constraint of a traitorous and artificial court left the Queen without a confidante, and she welcomed a child of nature whom she fancied she could mould at will. The more her pent-up hatred fastened on her courtiers, the more she spited them by petting her new favourite. The friend- ship of queens with the lowly appeals to vanity as well as to devotion. It proved so with both Sarah Jennings and even more with the humbler Abigail Masham. In still greater degree did it now so prove with Emma. It was not long before she rode out regularly on a horse from the royal stables, attended by a royal equerry, and enjoying semi-royal privileges. Maria's haughty ladies-in-waiting, the Marchionesses of San Marco and of San Clemente, can scarcely have been pleased. Jealousy must have abounded, but it found no outlet for her downfall. That the Neapolitan nobility, at any rate, believed in her real services to England, is shown by the rumour among them that she was Pitt's informer. Henceforward dates the growth of an English party and an Anglo-mania at the Neapolitan court which was violently opposed alike by the pro-Spanish, the pro- Jacobin, and the ' down-with-the-foreigner ' parties. Emma, however, stood as yet only on the threshold of her political influence. In the June of that year, ' for political reasons,' Lady Hamilton informs Greville, ' we have lived eight months at Caserta,' formerly only their winter abode, but now the Queen's regular residence during the hot months. 'Our house has been like an inn this winter.' (Sir William naturally sighed over the expense.) '. . . We had the Duchess of Ancaster several days. It is but 3 days since the Devonshire family has left; and we had fifty in our family for four days at Caserta. 'Tis true we dined every ' It may thus be paraphrased : — ' Random lot of birth can start Peasant one, another Queen. Chance has placed them far apart ; Mother-wit can change the scene.' TILL THE FIRST MEETING 155 day at court, or at some casino of the King ; for you cannot imnu^ne how good our King and Queen as been to the principal English who have been here — particularly to Lord and Lady Palmerston, Cholmondely, Devonshire, Lady Spencer, I^dy Bessborough, Lad\- Plymouth, Sir George and Lady Webster. And 1 have carried the ladies to the Queen very often, as she as permitted me to go very often in private, which I do. ... In the evenings I go to her, and we are tc'te-^-UU 2 or 3 hours. Sometimes we sing. Yesterday the King and me sang duetts 3 hours. It was but bad. . . . To-day the Princess Royal of Sweden comes to court to take leave of their Majesties. Sir William and me are invited to dinner with her. She is an amiable princess, and as lived verj- much with us. The other ministers' \vi\-es have not shewed her the least attention because she did not pay them the first visit, as she travels under the name of the Countess of Wasa. . . . Her Majesty told me I had done very well in waiting on Her Royal Highness the moment she arrived. However, the ministers' wives are ven,' fond of me, as the[y] see I have no pre- tentions ; nor do I abuse of Her Majesty's goodness, and she observed the other night at court at Naples [when] we had a drawing-room in honner of the Empress having brought a son. I had been with the Queen the night before alone en famiUe laughing and singing, etc etc, but at the drawing-room I kept my distance, and payd the Queen as much respect as tho' I had never seen her before, which pleased her verj' much. But she shewed me great dis- tinction that night, and told me several times how she admired my good conduct. I onely tell you this to shew and convince you I shall never change, but allvcays be simple and natural. You may imms^ne how happy my dear, dear Sir \Mlliam is. . . . We live more like lovers than husband and wife, as husbands and wives go nowa- days. Lord deliver me ! and the English are as bad as the Italians, some few excepted. •I study very hard, . . . and I have had all my songs set for the viola, so that Sir William may accompany me, which as pleased him very much, so that we study together. The English garden is going on very fast The 156 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON King and Queen go there every day. Sir William and me are there every morning at seven a clock, sometimes dine there and allways drink tea there. In short it is Sir William's favourite child, and booth him and me are now studying botany, but not to make ourselves pedantical prigs and shew our learning like some of our travelling neighbours, but for our own pleasure. Greffer ^ is as happy as a prince. Poor Flint, the messenger, was killed going from hence. I am very sorry. He was lodged in our house and I had a great love for him. I sent him to see Pompea, Portici, and all our delightful environs, and sent all his daughters presents. Poor man, the Queen as expressed great sorrow. Pray let me know if his family are provided for as I may get something for them perhaps. . . . Pray don't fail to send the inclosed.' ^ But more than such surface-life was now animating Emma. A peasant's daughter, at length in the ascendant over an Emperor's, was receiving, communicating, intensify- ing wider impressions. When her Queen denounced, she abominated the Jacobins ; her tears were mingled with Maria's over the family catastrophes. She preached up to her the English as the avengers of her wrongs. She rejoiced with her over the Anglo-Sicilian alliance concluded in July. She longed for some deliverer who might justify her flights of eloquence. England had at last joined the allies and thrown down the gauntlet in earnest. The loth* of September 1793 brought Nelson's first entry both into Naples and into the Am- bassador's house. He had been despatched by Lord Hood on a special mission to procure ten thousand troops from Turin and Naples after that wonderful surrender* of starved-out ' Grafer — a trusted agent of Hamilton's, He afterwards became the manager of Nelson's Bronte estates. His wife was a scheming woman who, in later years, gave much trouble both to Nelson and Lady Hamilton. ^ Probably relating to ' little Emma.' Morrison MS. 221 ; Caserta, June 2, 1793- " This is the date of arrival usually given, but a letter from Acton respecting salutes of ceremony, dated September 4, seems to point to that of a few days earlier. Cf. Eg. MS. 2639, f. 74. * August 22. Lord Nelson. From an engraved vtedallion after a bust by Flaxjiian. TILL THE FIRST MEETING 157 Toulon : — ' The strongest in Europe, and twenty-two sail of the line . . . without firing a shot. ' ^ The previous year had called forth two ruling strains in his nature: the one of irritable embitterment at his un- recognised solicitations for a command ; the other of patriotic exultation when Chatham ^ and Hood suddenly 'smiled' upon him, thanks, it would seem, to the impor- tunity of his early adnfirer and lifelong friend, the Duke of Clarence. For five years he had been eating out his heart on half-pay in a Norfolk village ; and even when the long- delayed command had come, crass officialism assigned him a sixty-four gunner and the fate of drifting aimlessly off Guernsey with no enemy in sight. If proof be wanted of Nelson's inherent idealism, it is found in the fact that in these long days of stillness and obscurity he was brooding over the future of his country, and devising the means of combating unarisen combinations against her. He was now almost thirty-five, and had been married six years and a half;* his wife was five years younger than himself From his earliest years, at once restrained and suscep- tible, companionable and lonely, athirst for glory rather than for fame, simple as a child yet brave as a lion, he had ex- perienced at intervals several passionate friendships for women.* As a stripling in Canada he conceived so vehement an affection for Miss Molly Simpson^ that he was with diffi- culty restrained from leaving the service. After a short interval, Miss Andrews in France had rekindled the flame. His intensest feeling in the Leeward Islands had been for Mrs. Moutray, his ' dear, sweet friend.' His engagement to her associate, Frances Nisbet, had been sudden — some ^ Nelson to his wife, nth September (the day after his arrival at Naples). Laughton's Letters and Despatches, p. 5 1 . The French always persisted in assert- ing the capitulation to have been caused by TrogofPs treachery. Cf. Dumas. 2 Second earl. First Lord of Admiralty, 1788. ' A copy of their marriage certificate is in the British Museum. Add. MS. 28,333, f. I. * Cf. his letter announcing his engagement to his uncle. Sir William Suckling: 'You . . . will perhaps smile and say " This Horatio is ever in love."' ' Mary Simpson was a famous beauty at Quebec in 1782, when Nelson com- manded the sloop Albemarle. She was the daughter of Sandy Simpson, one of Wolfe's provost marshals, and eventually married Colonel Matthews, Governor of Chelsea Hospital. For the whole episode, cf. J. M. Le Moine's General Sir F. Haldeinand (iSs8), Maple Leaves (2 vols., 1863), and Picturesque Quebec {18S2). 158 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON suspected from pique. The young widow of the Nevis doctor attracted him less by her heart than what he called her ' mental accomplishments, . . . superior to most people's of either sex.' These were, in truth, of a second-rate board- ing-school order. Nelson's unskilled, uncritical mind and his frank generosity always exaggerated such qualities in women, and not least in Emma, more self-taught than him- self. His wife's virtues were sterling, but her power of appreciation very limited. She was more dutiful than gentle, less loving than jealous ; her self-complacent cold- ness was absolutely unfitted to understand or hearten or companion genius. She entirely lacked intuition. Her outlook was cramped — that of the plain common-sense and unimaginative prejudice which so often distinguishes her class. She was a nagger, and she nagged her son. She was quite satisfied with her little shell and, ailing as she was, perpetually grumbled at everything outside it. But directly success attended her husband, she at once gave herself those social airs for which that class is also distinguished when it rises. She became ridicu- lously pretentious.^ It was this feature that disgusted Nelson's sisters in later years, as appears from many letters in the Morrison Collection. Some disillusionment succeeded as time familiarised him with the lady of his impulsive choice. She nursed him dutifully in 1797 ; but, for her, duties were tasks. At Bath, a short time before his eventful voyage of 1798, he was to express his delight at the charms of the reigning toasts ; but in steeling himself against temptation, he got no further than the avowal of having ' everything that was valuable in a wife.' There are two sorts of genius, or supreme will : the cold and the warm. The one commands its material from sheer fibre of inflexible character and hard intellect; ; the other creates and enkindles its fuel by idealism. The former in England is signally illustrated in differing spheres by Wal- 1 Even to the close of Nelson's life. On October 18, 1805, Mrs. Bolton tells Lady Hamilton from Bath, 'I saw Tom Tit [Lady N.'s sobriquet] yester- day in her carriage at the next door come to take Lady Charlotte Drummond out with her. . . . Had I seen only her hands spreading about, I should have known her.' — Morrison MS. 846. TILL THE FIRST MEETING l59 pole and Wellington ; the latter by Chatham and Nelson. Both of these shared that keen faculty of vision, really, if we reflect, a form of spiritual force, and allied to faith which, in volume, whether for individuals or nations, is irresistible. This sword of the spirit is far more powerful than ethical force without it ; still more so than merely conventional morality, which, indeed, for good or for ill, and in many partings of the ways, it has often by turns made or marred. Both, too, were histrionic — a word fre- quently misused. The world is a stage, and of all nature there is a scenic aspect. The dramatic should never be confused with the theatrical, nor attitude with affectation. And the visionary with a purpose is always dramatic. He lives on dreams of forecast, and his forecast visualises com- binations, scenes of development, characters, climax. When he is nothing but a lonely muser, or, again, an orator destined to bring other hands to execute his ideas, his audience is the future — the ' choir invisible.' But when he himself acts the chief part in the dramas which he has composed, he needs the audience that he creates and holds. He depends on a sympathy that can interpret his best possibilities to himself. In Nelson's soul resided from boyhood the central idea of England's greatness. His intuitive force, his genius, incarnated that idea, and what Chatham dreamed and voiced, Nelson did. He realised situations in a flash, and, from first to last, his courage took the risk not only of action, but of prophecy.* Indeed, his own motto may be said ' A signal instance, recorded in the diary of Scott, his chaplain, has been privately communicated to the writer. It occurred in 1805 when Nelson was chasing the French fleet to the West Indies. 'May 6. — Arrived in the harbour of Gibraltar; but because the wind has just come from the east we have sailed away. The fleet had been for so long a time baffled by contrary winds . . . that the favourable change . . . was quite unexpected by them. So much so, that oiflcers and men had gone on shore, and the linen was landed to be washed. Lord Nelson, however, . ■ . perceived an indication of a probable change of wind. Off went a gun from the Victory, and up went the Blue Peter, whilst the Admiral paced the deck in a hurry, with anxious steps, and impatient of a moment's delay. The officers said, " Here is one of Nelson's mad pranks." But Nelson was nevertheless right. . . . This course Nelson pursued solely on his own responsibility. He said to me, "... To be burnt in effigy, or Westminster Abbey, is my alternative." ' i6o EMMA, LADY HAMILTON to have been that fine phrase of the other which he quoted to Lady Hamilton in the first letter which counselled the flight of the royal family in 1798 — ' The Boldest measures are the Safest.''^ George Meredith's badge of true patriotism fits Nelson beyond all men : ' To him the honour of England was as a babe in his arms ; he hugged it like a mother.' ^ Nelson, again, was eminently spontaneous. There was nothing set or petty about him. He never posed as ' Sir Oracle.' He dared to disobey the formalists. He despised and offended insignificance in high places ; the prigs and pedants, the big-wigs of Downing Street, the small and self-important purveyors of dead letter, the jealous Tritons of minnow-like cliques. Above all, he abhorred from the bottom of his honest heart the ' candid friend ' — ' willing to wound and yet afraid to strike ' ; but he honoured— to return from Pope's line to Canning's — ' the erect, the manly foe.' Clerical by association, the son of a most pious, the brother of a most worldly clergyman, his bent was genuinely religious, as all his letters with their trust in God and their sincere ' amens ' abundantly testify. To clergymen he still remains ' the great but erring Nelson.' But his God was the God of truth, and justice, and battles — the tutelary God that watches over England; and he himself owns emphatically in one of his letters that he could never turn his cheek to the smiter. He liked to consecrate his ambitions, but am- bition, even in childhood, had been his impulse. ' Nelson will always be first ' had been ever a ruling motive. And, man of iron as he was in action, out of it he was unconstrained and sportive.* He loved to let himself go ; he delighted in fun and playful sallies. He formed a band ' Add. MS. 34,989, f. 12 (one of our newly found letters): 'And may the words of the great Mr. Pitt, Earl of Chatham, be instilled into the Ministry of this country, " The Boldest measures are the Safest." ' Oct. 3, 1798. * Rhoda Fleming. ' It may not be out of place to subjoin here the character of Nelson given in a letter to Lady Hamilton, of July 1803, by John Scott, his secretary, and then with him off Toulon in the Amphion : ' In my travels through the service I have met with no character in any degree equal to his Lordship. His pene- tration is quick, judgment clear, wisdom great, and his decisions correct and decided ; nor does he in company appear to have any weight on his mind, so cheerful and pleasant that it is a happiness to be about his hand. In fact, he is a great and wonderful character.' — Morrison MS. 720. TILL THE FIRST MEETING i6i of firm believers, and Jie believed in them with enthusiasm — an enthusiasm which accentuated his bitterness whenever it was damped or disappointed. A daredevil himself, he loved daredevilry in others. In Emma as he idealised her, he hailed a nature that could respond, encourage, brace, and even inspire, for she was to be transfigured into the creature of his own imaginings. She was his Egeria. It was a double play of enthusiastic zeal and idealisation. She fired him to achieve more than ever she could have imagined. He stirred her to appear worthier in his eyes. She wreathed him with laurel ; he crowned her image with myrtle. Many to whom the fact is repugnant refuse to see that this idealised image of Emma in Nelson's eyes, however often and lamentably she fell short of it, was an influence as real and potent as if she had been its counterpart. Her nearest approach to it may be viewed in her letters of 1798. It is idle to brand her as destitute of any moral standard ; her inward standards were no lower than those of the veneered ' respectables ' around her. Her outward conduct, as Sir William's partner, had been above suspicion ; the sin of her girlhood had been long buried. And in many respects her fibre was stronger than that of a society which broadened its hypocrisies some thirty years later, when Byron sang ' You are not a moral people, and you know it, Without the aid of too sincere a poet.' The radical defect in her grain was rather the complete lack of anything like spiritual aspiration. Hers, too, were the vanity that springs from pride, and the want of dignity bred of lawlessness. She had been a wild flower treated as a weed, and then transplanted to a hothouse ; she was a spoiled child without being in the least childlike ; she was self-conscious to the core. But if she was ambitious for herself, she was fully as ambitious for those that she loved, and she admired all who admired them. It is idle to dwell on the ' vulgarity ' of an adventuress Adventure was the breath of Nelson's nostrils, and Emma's unrefined clay was animated by a spirit of reality which he loved. It is idle, again, to talk of his ' infatuation,' for that L i62 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON , word covers every deep and lasting passion in idealising natures. It is equally idle, as will be seen when we come to proofs, to say that Nelson was a ' dupe ' in any portion of his claims for her 'services' which lay within his own experience.^ With regard to these he was absolutely aware of what had actually transpired, and if it had not transpired he himself was a liar, which none have had the temerity to assert. The only sense in which Nelson could ever be styled the ' dupe ' of Emma would be that he was utterly cheated in his estimate of her. If she merely practised upon his simplicity, if there was nothing genuine about her, and all her effusiveness was a tinsel mask of hideous dissimulation ; if she was a tissue of craft and cunning, then she was the worst of women, and he the most unfortunate of men. Wholly artless she was not ; designedly artful, she never was. She was an unconscious blend of Art and Nature. In all her letters she is always the same receptive creature of sincere volitions and attitudes; and these letters, when they describe actions, are most strikingly confirmed by inde- pendent accounts. They are genuine. Her spirit went out to his magnetically ; each was to hypnotise the other. Had she ever been artful she would have feathered her nest. Throughout her career it was never common wealth or prodigal youth that attracted her, and in her greatest dependence she had never been a parasite. It was talent and kindness that she prized, and towards genius she gravitated. It is not from the bias either of praise or blame that her character must be judged. It is as a human document that she should be read. The real harm in the future to be worked by her on Nelson was that of the falsehood, repugnant to them both, which, eight years later, the birth of Horatia entailed — an evil aggravated by reaction in the nature of a puritan turned cavalier, and anxious to twist the irregularities of a ' Nell Gwynne defender-of-the-faith ' into consonance with the forms of his upbringing. At Naples, Nelson and his men found a royal welcome in every sense of the word. The King sailed out to greet ' With regard to all of them his solemn affirmation in his last codicil is that they had happened to his ' knowledge.' TILL THE FIRST MEETING 163 him,^ called on and invited him thrice within four days.^ He was hailed as the ' Saviour of Italy,' and while he was f^ted, his crew, who from the home Government had ob- tained nothing but ' honour and salt beef,' ^ were provisioned and petted. A gala at San Carlo was given in their honour ; six thousand troops were offered without hesita- tion ; a squadron was despatched. The atmosphere of despairing indecision was dispersed by his unresting alert- ness, his lightning insight, his faith in Great Britain and himself, and the heroic glow with which he invested duty. The phlegmatic Acton was impressed. His only fear was lest England's co-operation with Naples should provoke the interference of the allies, and be impeded by it.* He superintended all the arrangements, for he was eminently a man of detail; he brought Captain Sutton^ (who stayed throughout the autumn) to see the King.* Nelson he mis-styled 'Admiral,' and there for the moment his respect ended. But the hospitable Hamilton, under the sway of Emma's enthusiasm, was enraptured. He brought him to lodge at the Embassy in the room just prepared for Prince Augustus, who was returning from Rome. He caught a spark of the young Captain's own electricity, he mentioned him in despatches, and conceived friendship at first sight. Here was a real man at last, a central and centralising genius. His wife shared and redoubled his astonishment. Here was a being who, like herself, ' loved to surprise people.' Here was one who, indefatigable in detail, and almost sleepless ^ in energy, took large views, was a statesman as well as a sailor, and showed the quali- ties of a general besides ; one, too, who although a stern disciplinarian, could romp and sing with his midshipmen, ' Dumas' Storia de' Borboni, p. 149. ' On September 24 he tells his brother William that he 'was placed at Ferdinand's right hand before our Ambassador and all the Nobles present.' 5 Letter to Mrs. Nelson, Sept. 7, 1793 (cited Pettigrew, vol. i. p. 40) : ' My poor fellows have not had a morsel of fresh meat or vegetables for near nineteen weeks, and in that time I have only had my foot twice on shore at Cadiz. ' * Eg. MS. 2639, f. 74. He resented Lord Mulgrave's proposal of concert- ing plans. " Of the Ramilies. Cf. Morrison MS. 227 ; Eg. MS. 2639, f. iii, 6 Eg. MS. 2639, ff. 83, 87, 91. ' He seldom slept more than four or five hours. i64 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON one who made their health and his country's glory his chief concern. Moreover, his appearance, small, slight, wiry in frame, and rugged of exterior, was nevertheless prepossess- ing and imposing. When he spoke, his face lit up with his soul ; nor had he yet lost an eye and an arm. And his contempt for Jacks-in-office, which seldom failed to show itself, chimed with her own — with that of a plebeian who in after years constantly used that Irish phrase, adopted by Nelson, ' I would not give sixpence to call the King my uncle.' Here was one who might rescue her Queen and shed lustre on Britain ; who might prove the giant-killer of the Jacotin ogres. What Emma thought of her guest may be gathered from two facts, one of which is new. Though they were not to meet again until 1798,^ Nelson and both the Hamiltons were in constant and most sympathetic correspondence for the next five years. In 1796 Sir William recommended him to the Government as 'that brave officer, Captain Nelson ' ; ' if you don't deserve the epithet,' he told him, ' I know not who does. . . , Lady Hamilton and I admire your constancy, and hope the severe service you have undergone will be handsomely rewarded.' ^ And her first letter of our new series in 1798, written hurriedly on June 17th while Nelson, anchored off Capri, remained on the Vanguard, contains this sentence : ' I will not say how glad I shall be to see you. Indeed I cannot describe to you my feelings on your being so near us.'* A woman could not so express herself to a man unseen for five years unless the twelve days or so spent in his company had pro-r duced a deep effect. Every concern of his already enlisted, her eagerness. His stepson, Josiah, then a young midship- man, was driven about by her and caressed. She laughingly called him her cavali^re servente. As yet it was only attraction, not love for Nelson. This very third anniversary of her wedding day had enabled her proudly to record that her husband and she were more inseparable than ever, and ^ The received version, of course, gives their second encounter as after the battle of the Nile. But there is strong reason for thinking, as will be seen, that they met on the 17th of June in that year. » Nelson Letters, vol. ii. p. 188. « Add. MS. 34,989, f. i. TILL THE FIRST MEETING 165 that he had never for one moment regretted the step of their union. But She did fall in love with the quickening force that Nelson represented. Infused by the ardour of her Queen, proud of the destiny of England as European deliverer, urged by her native ambition to shine on a bigger scale, she reflected every hue of the crisis and its leaders. If his hour struck, hers might strike also. He, she, and Sir William had for this short span already realised what the legend round Sir William's Order of the Bath signified.^ ' Tria juncta in uno' — three persons linked together by one tie of differing affections. The sole mentions of Emma by Nelson at this time are in a letter to his brother, and another to his wife, already noticed.^ But that her influence had already begun to work is proved by the fact that he carefully preserved the whole series of her letters of the summer and autumn of 1798, which find their place in the Appendix to this volume. Three days only after he had started for Leghorn, he wrote as follows : ' In my hurry of sailing I find I have brought away a butter-pan. Don't call me an ungrateful guest for it, for I assure you I have the highest sense of your and Lady Hamilton's kindness, and shall rejoice in the oppor- tunity of returning it. . . . The sending off the prints adds to the kindness I have already received from you and Lady Hamilton.'^ And when at the close of August in the next year he stayed at Leghorn once more, he assured Sir William how glad he would have been to have visited them again, ' had the state of the Agamemnon permitted it,' but ' her ship's crew are so totally worn out, that we were glad to put into the first port, . . . therefore for the present I am deprived of that pleasure.' * When Nelson was not dining at court or concerting operations with the Ministers, he was at the Embassy or Caserta, meeting the English visitors, who included the delicate Charles Beauclerk, whom the artistic Lady ' She uses the phrase already in our correspondence of September 1798. ' 'Lady Hamilton has been wonderfully good and kind to Josiah. She is a young woman of amiable manners, and who does honour to the station to which she is raised.' — Pettigrew, vol. i. p. 42. 'Morrison MS. 226, Sept. 24, 1793. « Ibid. 24s, Aug. 31, 1794. 166 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON Diana had commended to Emma's charge.' All was Joy, excitement, preparation. * I believe,' wrote Nelson, ' that the world is now convinced that no conquests of importance can be made without us.'* Nelson had aroused Naples from a long siesta, and henceforward Emma sings 'God save the King ' and calls for ' Hip, hip, hurrah I ' which she teaches the Queen, at every Neapolitan banquet. Naples is no more a hunting-ground for health or pleasure, but a focus of deliverance. It is as though in our own days the Riviera should suddenly wake up as a centre of patriotism and a rallying-ground for action. Within a few years Maria Carolina could write to Emma that she sighed for the ' brave, loyal, Nelson ' and his party of ' magnanimous ' English, whom she loves and for whose glory she hat) vowed to act.^ She is ever dilating on 'your great and heroic nation.' As for Nelson, she 'cherishes and admires him with the truest attachment.' On September 24th Nelson purposed a slight mark of gratitude for the hospitality and the substantial reinforce- ments so liberally proffered. The Agamemnon was all flowers and festivity. He had invited the King, the Queen, the Hamiltons, Acton, and the M inisters to luncheon. The guests were awaiting the arrival of the court under a cloudless sky amid the flutter of gay bunting and all the careless chatter of southern mirth. Suddenly a despatch was handed to the captain. He was summoned to weigh anchor and pursue a French man-of-war with three vessels stationed off Sar- dinia. Not an instant was lost. The guests dispersed in excitement. When I^erdinand arrived in his barge, it was to find the company vanished, the decks cleared, and the captain buried in work. Within two hours Nelson had set sail for Leghorn,* which he had immediately to quit for Toulon, Calvi and its further triumph awaited him after- wards, ' Morrbon MS. 223, Jttly 20, 1793. With the meimige that ' if it 1« pm'Me dlie iihouM feci th« Icaitt »j 4I' C'ted by Professor Laughton. 190 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON been in frequent confabulation,^ while the Hamiltons were also in close correspondence with Nelson. But it was Emma, not her husband, who was daily closeted with Carolina, whose letters to the ambassadress prove how well she was informed of Spain's machinations.^ So early as June 1793 we have seen Emma already politicising. In April 1795 she reports once more to Greville : ' Against my will, owing to my situation here, I am got into politics, and I wish to have news for my dear, much loved Queen whom I adore.' * She had already transcribed a ciphered com- munication from Spain as to King Charles's probable defection from the alliance.* She now definitely advances towards the political footlights. The preceding year had settled the habit by which the Queen conveyed secret documents to the friend who as regularly copied or translated them for her husband.^ So far the chief of these had been the ' Chiifre de Galatone ' transmitted to England at the close of April 1795.^ All of them, however, principally related to the Spanish peace with France then brewing in Madrid, of which the British Government had gained other advices from their represen- tative at the Spanish court. That even this, however, was not quite a secret de Polichinelle, is shown by the scarcity of 1 He already offered Hamilton the use of his own courier, Eg. MS. 2639, ifl 303 and 304 et seq. ''■ Spain she regarded as a pawn of France. Cf. her letter at the opening of 1796, where she tells Emma that Spain is so weak that if France ordered her to knife her brother, she would do it. Egerton MS. 1615, f. 48. * Morrison MS. 263. ^ Ibid. 259. ^ On April 21, 1795, for example, the Queen sends three papers 'confiden- tially,' 'which maybe useful to your husband.' Cf. Eg. MS. 1615, ff. 20-22, containing another example. It is needless to multiply instances. One citation only will illustrate Emma's initiative. In Hamilton's despatch of April 30, 1795, he says, 'However, Lady Hamilton having had the honour of seeing the Queen yesterday morning, H.M. was pleased to promise me one, etc' In another of the following year he speaks of documents being ' communicated ' to him 'as usual.' ^ Cf. Emma's transcript of this ciphered despatch, March 31, 1795, together with the Queen's note forwarding it to her, Eg, MS. 1615, f. 22, and Emma's reference to the courier and her having 'got into politicks,' April 19. Morrison MS. 259, 263. On June 9 she copied another despatch from Galatone (Prince Belmonte), ibid. 265. Much earlier in the year the Queen communicated hidden information about Spain and rumours about Hood having got out of Toulon, Eg. MS. 161 7, f. 3. 'STATESWOMAN' 191 references to it in the Acton correspondence with Hamilton of these very dates. Nor is it any answer to Emma's activities, even in this and less material years, that she voiced the Queen's urgent interest, because it is abundantly manifest that the Queen, in her need, did for Emma what she would never have done for Hamilton apart, while in re- turn Emma doubtless communicated also Nelson's Mediter- ranean information to Maria Carolina. She had suddenly become a safe and trusted go-between, and none other at this juncture could have performed her office. The supine Sir William had at last been pricked into action. He had now every incentive to earn the King of England's gratitude. In a private missive to Lord Grenville of April 30, 179S, alluding to the communication of this very 'cipher of Galatone,' he himself asserts, ' Your Lordship will have seen by my despatch of 21st April the unbounded con- fidence which the Queen of Naples has placed in me and my wife' ^ Emma could now advantage not only herself and her country, but her royal friend and her own husband — Triajuncta in uno. But the position in the late summer of 1796 was far more serious both for Naples and England than it had ever been before. Acton had been dallying. During the interval Ferdinand had been literally pelted with letters from Charles, menacing, cajoling, persuading him. Already in August Hamilton had communicated secrets respecting the movements of the French and Spanish squadrons.^ Every one knew that Spanish retirement from the European Coalition was soon to be succeeded by some sort of league; but nobody, either at Naples or in England, could ascer- tain its exact conditions revealed to Ferdinand alone. If it was to be (as it was) an alliance of offence, the issues must prove momentous for Great Britain. All was kept a profound secret. About mid-September 1796 Charles the Fourth's final ' Cited by Professor Laughton in his Nelson's Last Codicil (Colburn's United Semice Magazine, April 1889) from P.R.O.and F.O. Records, Spain (1795), 388. ^ Cf. the excerpt in Sotheby's catalogue of his autograph document sold in May of this year (1905). It bears date August 16, 1796. 192 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON epistle reached the hands of his Neapolitan brother.^ The murder was out. The compact between the two courts was fixed as one of war to the knife against the allied powers, among whom England was wavering and Austria on the verge of concluding a scandalous peace. Ferdinand, who alone knew what was impending, must have chuckled as he thought how he had worsted his masterful spouse. If Emma could only clear up the mystery and the un- certainty, England might be forearmed against the veiled sequel of that long train of hidden pourparlers which she had been able to discover and announce during the previous year ; and in such a case she counted with assurance on her country's gratitude towards her and her husband. How the Queen or Emma, or both, obtained the loan of this document, whether out of the King's pocket, as Emma avers in her Prince Regent's memorial, and Pettigrew, with embellishments, in hisZ^ of Nelson; or whether, according to the posthumous Memoirs of Lady Hamilton, through a bribed page, does not concern us. Such strokes of the theatre are, at any rate, quite consistent with the atmosphere of the court. The sole question is : Did she manage to receive and transmit it ? Professor Laughton, in trying to identify Emma's claim with the occasion of Galatone's 'ciphered letter' of the spring of 1795, has ignored somewhat the precise applica- bility both of her own wording and Nelson's. The letter to which I apply her pretensions, was in Spanish — a ' private letter,' as they describe it, and not a 'letter in cipher' like the one received from Galatone in the year preceding. Moreover, it will be found on reference to the Appendix^ that what Emma seems really to have distinguished herself by procuring in 179S, was not so much the ' letter in cipher ' as the clue for deciphering it, which has eluded the critics. Is there any distinct circumstance in her favour to counterweigh the hypotheses against her? One such exists 1 This was not the letter cited by Mr. Jeaffreson in his Queen of Naples and Lord Nelson (vol. ii. p. 206), for this only states that since France has at last got a moderate Government and the Jacobins are utterly ruined, he will begin negotiations. The real document is a later one, as Mr. Jeaf&eson admits on the next page. " Note F. 'STATESWOMAN' 193 of some weight. It relates to her statement that a private messenger was despatched with the document to London. Sir William Hamilton forwarded the critical news in a ' secret ' despatch to Lord Grenville. It is dated September 21, 1796;^ and the bearer of it, as will be seen, started on the 23rd. It should be observed that this lengthy epistle is exceptional in only transmitting the purport of the letter, and not, as habitually before and afterwards, either copies of hazardous documents, or, in earlier cases, the originals themselves.^ On this very September 21st the Queen of Naples wrote to thank Emma for putting at her service the unexpected medium of 'the poor Count of Munster's courier,' available through his employer's decease, though the usual couriers were also at hand. She says that she will profit by the opportunity, and that Emma shall receive her 'packet' to-morrow.* Acton, once more addressing Hamilton on September 22, and before this special courier had started, begged him to include both his and the Queen's despatches to Circello, Ambassador at St. James's, 'by the courier which \sic\ goes to-morrow for London.' * On this identical September 21, 1796, once again Lady Hamilton herself sat down for a hurried chat with Greville. ' We have not time,' she says, ' to write to you, as we have been 3 days and nights writing to send by this courrier letters of consequence for our Government. They ought to be gratefull to Sir William and myself in particular, as my situation in this Court is very extraordinary, and what no person [h]as yet arrived at.' ^ 1 Cited from the P.R.O. by Professor Laughton. " He had consistently so done heretofore. On April 28, 1795, for example, Emma specially endorses the fact of her husband sending the original of the Qaeen's letter to England. Eg. MS. 161 5, f. 22. On October 3 following, divulging the secret articles of the Gallo-Hispanian treaty, he encloses Acton's original letter (cf. Professor Laughton's article). Emma's own copy of the succeeding secret articles between France and Naples remains too in her hand- writing. Morrison MS. 289. The original must have been forwarded. In the present case such a document must have been of necessity only lent to be copied and returned without delay ; nor could the Queen have ever allowed her name to transpire. It was her husband's secret, and probably purloined. s Eg. MS. 161S, f. 50. * Eg. MS. 2639, f. 313 et seq. s Morrison MS. 287. N 194 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON The coincidence of these combined statements of two successive days suggests the 'poor Count of Munster's' courier as the possible bearer both of official despatches and of Emma's private copy of the King of Spain's most crucial declaration.^ There are two alternatives with regard to Hamilton's exceptional omission to forward some copy at least of such a document, and both are in Emma's favour. Either he feared to do so, in which case Emma could truthfully describe her husband's detailed rhumi oi the information procured at her instance as the ' King of Spain's letter ' ; or — as the whole course of their custom confirms — she copied it verbatim and forwarded her copy by special messenger, after hastily restoring the original through the Queen to the unsuspecting King. In no case could it have been suffered to remain long out of his possession. Professor Laughton, pinning Lady Hamilton's claim to the less grave issues of 179S, and not, as I hope to have made clear, to their critical upshot on which the case is here rested, has urged with some force that no such document has yet been found in the British archives. But I am convinced that he will be the first to admit that many important documents are mentioned in the secret despatches of Hamilton alone, which have not as yet come to public light, if, indeed, they have not been destroyed ; more- over, copies, and even originals, of official records, relating to the period and the persons, have appeared in the auction- rooms during recent years, and must have been parted with by their recipients. The King of Spain's letter itself, how- ever, exists elsewhere, and is familiar. Hamilton's rdsumi of its contents in his despatch is so faithful and circum- stantial as to warrant the certainty that he had seen it. The Queen could not have lent it for long, and by established habit must have done so through Emma. If it was copied, Emma, by the same custom, must have been its copyist. ^ This is by no means the sole occasion of a special messenger being employed in despatches to Lord Grenville. In one of 1795 Hamilton says his own servant will take it as far as Rome (P.R.O., F.O. Records (Spain) 388, cited by Professor Laughton). In another, that a ' person ' is conveying it. But none of these are so exceptional as the chance courier in question. 'STATESWOMAN' 195 Mr. Jeaffreson has further dwelt on the unlikelihood of such a sum ^ as Emma names being spent on retaining the messenger out of her private purse, when her allowance was limited to ;^2C)0 a year. But this allowance was only nominal. Had he scrutinised the Morrison Collection, he would have seen that for some time she had been authorised by her husband to overdraw her account in view of increas- ing requirements.^ Minutiae, too, about Sir William's state of health in September 1796 to refute her allegation of his ill-health, at the time when she transmitted the contents of the letter to England, seem to me out of place. He was constantly in bed and out of it within a few days from the opening of 1795 to the close of 1796. Everything, it must be conceded, remains inconclusive. But the critic's whole argument is also a balance of probabilities. All rests on circumstantial evidence merely, and Professor Laughton himself seems to have drawn mistaken inferences from the documents of 1795.® It is possible, of course, that this claim also may have confused some of the events of the two years, especially Hamilton's illness ; or, on the other hand, even that this crucial letter of 1796 might have been forwarded by her during the next month, when she is still to be found tran- scribing documents, and endorsing effusive gratitude on one of the Queen's letters.* But that her story, stripped of accidentals, is a myth, I cannot bring myself to believe. Even Lord Grenville, thirteen years afterwards, rejected her claims on grounds far other than their fabrication.* That during her future she proved often and otherwise blameworthy, that her distant past had been soiled, are scarcely reasons for discrediting the substance of her story in the teeth of inferences as telling as have been marshalled against it ; nor should Greville's repeated acknowledg- ^ Hamilton in the succeeding November paid eighty ducats himself to a special messenger conveying despatches to Bastia. Cf. Sotheby's catalogue of May 1 7, 1905, giving an excerpt from a document to that effect. 2 Morrison MS. '250; Caserta, December 18, 1794. 'He told me I might, for I have so many occasions to spend my money that my 2 hundred pounds will scarcely do for me.' s Cf. Appendix, Note F. * Eg. MS. 1615, f. 62. 5 Cf. especially Canningjs letter to Rose, July 5, 1809. Rose's Diaries, vol. i. p. 263, and post, chap. xv. 196 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON merits of her natural candour be forgotten. To every motive for political exertion had now been added immense opportunity. There is ample reason why she should have used it for her country's advantage. She was no dabbler. She had wished to play a big part, and she was playing it. She had every qualification for acquitting herself well in the arena where she longed to shine, and promptitude alone could ensure success. Gloom deepened with the opening of the year 1797, but it riveted the Neapolitan House faster to England. The many French immigrants exulted. The pro-Spanish party and all the Anglophobes became confident. Austria had ignobly desisted,^ and her ministers were rewarded by diamonds from the Pope.* Great Britain — hesitating though she seemed — remained the sole champion against Buona- parte. Lord St. Vincent's name and Nelson's rang throughout Europe on the 'glorious Valentine's day,' and Emma infused fresh hope in the downcast Queen. She delighted to vaunt England's sinew and backbone. She prevented Hamilton from relaxing his efforts, and kept him at his post of honour. She was already ambitious for Nelson. Maria Carolina at last divined that Buonaparte's objective was the Mediterranean. But Nelson had divined the aims of France earlier, when he wrote in October 1796, ' We are all preparing to leave the Mediterranean, a measure which I cannot approve. They at home do not know what this fleet is capable of performing ; anything and every- thing.'* But Downing Street, in the person of the narrow- sighted Lord Grenville, still closed its eyes, shut its ears, and hardened its heart. At Rome the French republicans organised an uprising, and were driven for shelter into Joseph Buonaparte's Palazzo Corsini. He himself was ^ By the Peace of Campoformio Austria ceded the Low Countries to France ; Milan, Mantua, Modena to the Cisalpine Republic. Venice was for the moment left to the Emperor, but France regained the Ionian Islands. The Peace of Tolentino turned the Romagna into a Republic. ^ Dumas, p. 204. 2 Prof. Laughton's Nelson Letters and Despatchts, p. 109. The Neapolitan peace with France, however, disgusted him, and made him think it time to be o'S.—Ibid. p. 112. ' STATESWOMAN ' 197 threatened, and Duphot was killed, by the Papal guard. Eugfene Beauharnais made a sortie of vengeance. Napoleon utilised the manceuvre to despatch General Berthier against the Pope's dominions. By the February of the ensuing year the Castle of St. Angelo was taken. On Ascension Day the Pope himself, in the Forum, heard the shouts of ' Viva la Republica ; abasso il Papa ! ' He did what other weak pontiffs have done before and since. He protested his ' divine right,' took his stand on it — and fled. Ousted from Siena by earthquake, he retired to the Florentine Certosa, where his rooms fronting that beautiful prospect may still be viewed. Hounded out once more, he was harried from pillar to post — from Tortona to Turin, from Briangon to Valence — in the citadel of which, old and dis- tressed, he breathed his last. At home Maria Carolina now reversed her policy of the knout. Vanni,^ the brutal Inquisitor of State, was deposed and banished, the diplomatic Castelcicala was given a free hand. All the captives were released. The Lazzaroni cheered till they were hoarse over the magnanimity of their rulers. And Acton, relieved from the burdens of bureaucracy, at last pressed Great Britain for a Mediterranean squadron. He and the Queen had both determined that their forced neutrality should be of short duration. If we would appreciate Emma's influence for England at Naples, the tone of his correspondence at this date should be compared with his indifference during the earlier portion of the preceding year. The Mediterranean expedition which Nelson was to lead to such decisive triumph was far more the fruit of Neapolitan importunities than of English foresight. Buonaparte had boasted that he would republicanise the two Sicilies also. No sooner was Acton apprised of the fact than he immediately invited Sir Gilbert Elliot, who happened to be visiting Naples, to meet him and ' His barbarities to victims were summed up in the Latin sentence, 'Torqueri acriter adhibitis quatuor funiculis.' An adventurous Colonel Pisa, who was to fight against Cardinal Ruffo in 1799, and would have been then executed but for royal intervention, was his relative. — Cyrus Redding's Recollections, vol. ii. P- 341- 198 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON the Hamiltons.1 He again murmured against Lord Granville's 'chicane.' He assured Sir Gilbert that his country had strained ' every sinew ' ' to move and engage seventeen million Italians to defend themselves, their property, and their honour'; all had been vain for lack of extraneous assistance ; even their fleet had laboured to no purpose ; in his quaint English, their ' head-shipman had lost his head, if ever he had any.' ^ The case was now desperate. All hinged on a sufficient Mediterranean squadron. 'Any English man-of-war, to the number of four at a time,' could still be provisioned in Sicilian pr Neapolitan ports. Their compelled compact with France allowed no more. And at a moment when the French were disquieting Naples by insurgent fugitives from the Romagna and elsewhere,* Napoleon's smooth speeches were, said Acton, mere dissimulation. A ' change of masters ' might soon ensue.* By the April of 1798 Acton was still more explicit in his correspondence with Hamilton, A fresh incursion was now definitely menaced. Naples was being blackmailed. The Parisian Directors offered her immunity, but only if she would pay them an exorbitant sum ; otherwise she must be absorbed in the constellation of republics,, while her monarch must join the debris of falling stars. Viennese support was little more than a forlorn hope for ravaged Italy. In the King's name he implored Hamilton to forward an English privateer to announce their desperate plight and urgent necessities to Lord St. Vincent. — ' Their Majesties observe the critical moment for all Europe, and the threatens \sic\ of an invasion even in England. They are perfectly convinced of the generous and extensive exertions of the British nation at this moment, but a diversion in these points might operate advantage for the common war. Will Eng- land see all Italy, and even the two Sicilies, in the French hands with indifference ? ' The half-hearted Emperor had at last consented to think of assisting his relations, ' Eg. MS. 2639, f. 369. ''■ Hamilton smiles at Acton's English. — Eg. MS. 2640, f. 45. ' Among these was Micheroux, who was to play such a fatal part in the Jacobin capitulation of 1799. * Eg. MS. 2640, ff. i, 11, 15. ' STATESWOMAN ' 199 though only should Naples be assailed ; this perhaps might ' hurry England.' Seventeen ships of the line would soon be ready ; there were seventy in Genoa, thirty at Civita Vecchia. These could carry ' perhaps 8000 men.' But the French at Toulon could convey 18,000. 'With the English expedition we shall be saved. This is my communication from their Majesties.' ^ Hamilton's replies were bitterly cautious. ' We cannot, however,' he observed, 'avoid to expose that His Sicilian Majesty confides too much in His Britannic Majesty's Ministry's help.' ^ And all this time Emma is never from Maria Carolina's side ; writing to her, urging, praising, heartening, caressing the English. The Queen is all gratitude to her humble friend, whose enthusiasm is an asset of her hopes : — ' Vous en ^tes le maltre de mon cceur, ma ch^re miledy,' she writes in her bad and disjointed French ; ' ni pour mes amis, comme vous, ni pour mes opinions [je] ne change jamais.' She is 'impatient for news of the English squadron.' ^ But she is still a wretched woman, disquieted by doubts and worn with care, as she may be viewed in the portraits of this period. She had deemed herself a pattern of duty, but had now woke up to the consciousness of being execrated by her victims ; while the loyal Lazzaroni, always her mislikers, visited each national calamity on her head. Gallo, Acton, Belmonte, Castel- cicala, Di Medici — all had been tried, and except Acton, who himself had wavered, all had been found wanting; It is the Nemesis of despots, even if enlightened, to rely suc- cessively on false supports, to fly by turns from betrayed trust to treachery once more trt^sted. Emma at all events would not fail her, and never did. ' You may read,' says Thackeray, ' Pompeii in some folks' faces.' Such a Pompeii- countenance must have been the Queen's. The English squadron was at last a fact. On March 29, 1 Eg. MS. 2640, ff. 45, 46, 48. 2 Eg. MS. 2640, f. 57, April 9. 2 Eg. MS. 1615, ff. 89, 69. Acton knew of it on May 19, 'Saturday morn- ing.' Grenville had enjoined strict secrecy. Eg. MS. 2640, f. 63. On June 10 he wrote, ' With the good Admiral Nelson at the head of them, we must hope the desired and long expected success.' 200 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 1798, Nelson hoisted his flag as Rear- Admiral of the Blue on board the Vanguard. On April 10 he sailed on one of the most eventful voyages in history. And meanwhile Maria Carolina, with Emma under her wing, might be seen pacing the palace garden, and eagerly scanning the horizon from sunny Caserta for a glimpse of one white sail. Sister Anne stands and waits on her watch-tower, feverish for Selim's arrival, while anguished Fatima peers into Bluebeard's cupboard, horror-stricken at its gruesome medley of dismembered sovereigns — martyrs or tyrants — which you please. Lady Hamilton as Euphrosvne. From a Mezzotint by Hiiry after ike original picture by G. Romney. CHAPTER VIII TRIUMPH 1798 Nelson was in chase of Buonaparte's fleet. Napoleon's Egyptian expedition was, perhaps, the great- est wonder in a course rife with them. He was not yet thirty ; he had been victorious by land, and had dictated terms at the gates of Vienna. In Italy, like Tarquin, he had knocked off the tallest heads first. Debt and jeal- ousy hampered him at home. It was the gambler's first throw, that rarest audacity. For years his far-sightedness had fastened on the Mediterranean ; and now that Spain was friends with France, he divined the moment for crush- ing Britain. But even then his schemes were far vaster than his contemporaries could comprehend. His plan was to obtain Eastern Empire, to reduce Syria, and, after recasting sheikhdoms in the dominion of the Pharaohs, possibly after subduing India, to dash back and conquer England. Italy was honeycombed with his republics. To Egypt France should be suzerain, a democracy with vassals ; as for Great Britain, if she kept her King, it must be on worse terms than even Louis the Bourbon had once dared to prescribe to the Stuarts. This, too, was the first and only time when he, an unskilled mariner, was for a space in chief naval command. Most characteristic was it also of him — the encyclopaedist in action — to have remembered science in this enterprise against science's home of origin. That vast Armada of ships and frigates, that \\\xgQ L' Orient, whose very name was augury, those forty thousand men in transports, did not suffice. An array of savants, with all their apparatus, swelling the muster on board their vessel 201 202 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON to no less than two thousand,^ accompanied the new man who was to make all things new. It was nigh a month after Nelson started when Napoleon sailed. Sudden as a flash of lightning, yet impenetrable as the cloud from which it darts, he veiled his movements and doubled in his course. It was on Saturday, June i6, that Hamilton first sighted Nelson's approach. The van of the small squadron of four- teen sail was visible as it neared Ischia from the westward and made for Capri.^ He at once took up his pen to send him the latest tidings of the armament which, eluding his pursuit, had now passed the Sicilian seaboard.* The glad news of Nelson's arrival spread like wildfire. The French residents mocked and scowled. The people cheered. The solemn ministers smiled. The royal family, in the depths of dejection,* plucked up heart ; the Queen was in ^ Morrison MS. 317. Much light is cast on these savants, and on the whole Egyptian expedition, by Buonaparte's and his officers' letters, intercepted by Nelson, and published in translation by 'J. Wright' in 1798. The expedition itself was undertaken, despite treasuries drained already by the Italian campaign, and the rapacity of its now dominant pioneers, who lavished the State's last gold en route for Cairo, in bribing Malta. All Buonaparte's officers were bitterly disappointed, and murmured against their commander for betraying them, going back on his original pretext of pacification, and leaving them unpaid. The savants were to discover 'the real Egypt.' On July 6 Buonaparte wrote to the Directory, ' This country is anything but what travellers ... represent it to be.' The Directory ' did not set much store by their savants ; they exported several head of them to Cayenne.' It was hoped that the plunder of Malta would reimburse some of the expense. The Directory's main object was to get rid of their Italian army. ^ Eg. MS. 2640, f. 69. = His letters both to Nelson and Lord St. Vincent (Morrison MS. 317, 318) were partly founded on Acton's communication of ' Sunday, June 10' (Eg. MS. 2640, f. 67), announcing that part of the French fleet was ' between Marittimo and the Favignana,' after being at Trapani, and was heading for Malta. Buonaparte's interference there changed the whole situation and precipitated the probability of an open breach between Naples and France. * This has been made clear, I hope, in my previous chronicle. But, since it has been doubted, I subjoin a few references to Acton's correspondence alone (though the Queen's of this period is also most despairing), to show that Nelson's expression on June 17th of ' this suffering family' was a commonplace at the time. Cf. Eg. MS. 2640, ff. 53-56. ' We shall perish if such is our destiny,' etc., f. 67. f. 71: — 'Our critical circumstances' — isolated on the Continent — ' our hopes and, indeed, all our expectations of help and assistance lay Isic] on the British squadron,' etc. f. 72: 'Our consolation.' f. 75: ' Nelson's passage through Messina Straits,' 'a prodigious consolation.' 'We are undoubtedly undone,' etc. On sighting the fleet, the Queen styled Nelson 'Conservateur.' — Eg. MS. 1615, f. 9S. And on June 20, as I shall shortly TRIUMPH 203 ecstasy.! But Gallo and the anti-English group were sus- picious and perplexed. They and the King still waited on Austria. On Spain they could no longer fawn. Nelson's instructions were to water and provide his fleet in any Mediterranean port, except in Sardinia,^ if necessary by arms. It was not that for the moment he needed refreshment for those scanty frigates, the want of which, he wrote afterwards, would be found graven on his heart. But he had a long and intricate enterprise before him. He was hunting a fox that would profit by every bend and crevice, so to speak, of the country. He could not track him without the certainty that, apart from the delays that force must entail, all his requirements, perhaps for two months, would be granted on mere demand. Even so early as June 12 he had requested definite answers from Hamilton as to what precise aid he could count upon * from a pseudo-neutral power trifling over diplomatic pedantries with the slippery chancelleries of Vienna ; while on that same day Hamilton had forwarded to Eden at Vienna a despatch from Grenville emphasising the ^ necessity I as it was now regarded at home, for ensuring the 'free and unlimited' admission of British ships into Sicilian harbours, and 'every species of provisions and supplies usually afforded by an ally.'* Hamilton had tried in vain to surmount an obstacle repugnant alike to France, to the King, and to Austria. Nelson also knew too well the barrier set against compliance by the terms of the fatal Franco-Neapolitan pact of 1796. Not more than four frigates at once might be received into any harbour of Ferdinand's coasts. He knew that the Queen and her notice, Hamilton adds a most significant and outspoken statement to a memo- randum for his despatch, cf. fast, p. 212. But apart from these sidelights, the fact might certainly have been discerned from Lord St. Vincent's letter to Emma of May 22, 1798 : 'The picture you draw of the lovely Queen of Naples and the Royal Family would rouse the indignation of the most unfeeling of the creation. ... I am bound — by my oath of chivalry— to protect all who are persecuted and distressed.' Cited by Pettigrew, vol. ii. p. 117. ' Cf. her impatience evidenced in her letter just before. Eg. MS. 161 5, f. 99. ^ Laughton's Letters and Despatches, p. 136. Pettigrew, vol. ii. p. 119. ? Laughton's Letters and Despatches, p. 137, ^ Clarke and M 'Arthur, vol. ii. p. 263. 204 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON friends were in the slough of despond. He knew too — for the Hamiltons had been in continual correspondence — that Austria was once more shilly-shallying. While Naples was longing to break her neutrality, Austria, for the moment satisfied with shame, was now secretly negotiating, with all the long and tedious array of etiquette, preliminaries to a half- hearted arrangement. Even in deliberation she would, as we have seen, only succour Naples if Naples were attacked. Against this Napoleon had guarded: so far as concerned him and the present, Naples should be left in perilous peace. He was content with the seeds of revolution that he had stealthily sown. Even as he passed Trapani on his way to Malta, which already by the loth of June he had invested, and whose plunder he had promised to his troops, he pacified the Sicilians with unlimited reassurances of good- will.^ And Nelson knew well also that Maria Carolina and Emma chafed under the fetters of diplomacy and of treaty that shackled action. If only he could obtain some roving mandate for his purpose, either through them — for the Queen had rights in Council — or from Acton, rather than the King still swayed by Gallo, he felt convinced of success. Otherwise, should emergencies arise within the next few weeks, as arise they must, he would perforce hark back to Gibraltar ; and in such a water-hunt of views and checks as he now contemplated, delay might spell failure, and failure his country's ruin. At about six o'clock by Neapolitan time,^ on a lovely June morning,^ Captains Troubridge and Hardy landed from the Mutine, which, together with the Monarch, com- manded by Captain T. Carrol,* lay anchored in the bay, leaving Nelson in the Vanguard with his fleet ofif Capri. Troubridge, charged with important requests by Nelson, at once proceeded to the Embassy. ' Cf. Eg. MS. 2640, ff. 67, 71. "^ It is curious that the critics who quibble over the discrepancy between the earlier time alleged by Lady Hamilton fifteen years later in her ' Prince Regent's ' memorial, and that given by the ship's log-book (allowing for the difference of log-British and London time), should never even have thought of the difference in Neapolitan time. In the 'King's' memorial no time is specified. ^ Sunday, June 17. The day of the week is mentioned in several of the letters. * Cf. Add. MS. 34>989. f- i- TRIUMPH 205 Our interrupting critics have stubbornly disputed step by step Lady Hamilton's after allegations ; and even these, as will be shown, they seem to have misread ; nor have they noted her simpler account in her ' King's Memorial,' still less Nelson's repeated assurances about her 'exclusive interposition' to Rose, Pitt's favourable consideration. Canning's own acknowledgment, the acquiescence even of Grenville, and a remarkable statement by Lord Melville, afterwards to be mentioned.^ I shall endeavour by close comparison to reconstruct what really happened out of Lady Hamilton's valuable manuscript correspondence with Nelson, and Acton's with Hamilton. More relating to the whole complicated subject are discussed in Note G. of the Appendix. The present narrative must be confined to results alone, though, at the same time, I feel bound to substantiate them by material evidence. Emma and her husband were awakened by their early visitors, who included Hardy and, perhaps, Bowen. Hamilton arose hurriedly, and took all of them together ^ to Acton's neighbouring house, where an irregular council * was held, at which the mincing and shifty Gallo, as foreign minister, was also present. Troubridge, as Nelson's mouth- piece, stated his requirements.* Gallo seems to have hummed and hawed. The whole arrangement with the court of Vienna now lagging under his procrastination, would be spoiled if Naples were prematurely to break with France, and an open breach must be certain if succour for the whole of Nelson's fleet were empowered at the Sicilian ports in contravention of the burdensome engagement with the French Directory; while it would further be implied that the British fleet was at the Neapolitan service. Re- course to the King would not only be dangerous, but ' Cf. post, chap. XV. ; Rose's Diaries, vol. i. p. 245 et seq. ; Morrison MS. 804. " Hardy, and perhaps Bowen (then staying with the Ambassador), seem to have been present at the council, as well as Troubridge. Cf. Acton's letter to Hamilton of June 22, Eg. MS. 2640, where he speaks of the Sunday 'council' as including the ' British officers' ' It was followed after the French protest by a formal council on the 22nd, v. Hat close of note 5, p. 207. ■» On this very day Nelson told Hamilton, ' Troubridge will say everything I could put in a ream of paper.' Morrison MS. 319. 206 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON probably futile ; the more so, since the French minister at Naples was now citizen Garat, a pedant, pamphleteer, and lecturer of the straitest sect among busybodying theorists. Such a man would be, urged Gallo, the loudest in umbrage at even the appearance of pro-British zeal. Acton rebutted these objections by observing that the ' order ' need not be signed by Ferdinand, but merely informally by himself 'in the King's name ' ; as, in fact, a sort of roving ' credential ' ; ^ that it could be so worded as to imply no breach of treaty but only the refreshment of four ships at a time ; that the governors of the ports might be separately instructed to offer a show of resistance if more were demanded of them;^ that Garat need never know what had transpired till the moment came when Austria had signed her pact with Naples, and France might be dared in the face of day ; Troubridge's reception could be represented as no more than a civility which Acton paid to every English visitor under Hamilton's protection. All must be 'under the rose,' and thus far only could Nelson be obliged. To Nelson's further requisition for frigates a polite non possumus was the only answer. Pending these delicate Austrian negotiations, and until an open rupture with France was possible with safety, Naples was in urgent need of a permanent fleet in the Mediterranean,^ and this, quid pro quo. Nelson naturally would not bind himself to con- cede, though, so far as his instructions and the situation warranted, he was ready, even eager, to do so.* This half-formal but scarcely effectual 'order' was obtained. There exists an original draft of Hamilton's official recital of what passed to Lord Grenville. Its alterations ^ Hamilton's own words of it to Nelson. ' The letter. Captain Troubridge and I got from General Acton I look upon as a sort of credeniial,' eic. Morrison MS. 322. Hamilton to Nelson, June 26, 1796. ^ Cf. Morrison MS. 318 (Hamilton to Lord St. Vincent) : 'Meantime every concealed assistance will be given to the British fleet, on which the very existence of this monarchy depends at this moment.' — Cf. ibid. 327 (a copy). The original must have been sent elsewhere. It refers to the just-concluded defensive alliance with Austria opening the ports to the British squadron, but continues : ' Our demands for the respective garrisons are but an excuse to give in case of a rupture, to show that we are, in a kind, forced to admit them above the fixed number.' s Eg. MS. 2640, ff. 71, 7S. * Morrison MS. 320. TRIUMPH 207 and interlineations are most instructive. Here I will single out but one sentence. ' This order,' he writes, interlineating only 'in the Kin^s Name,' was immediately given. The 'immediately' is erased.^ It was not such a plain-sailing affair as it seemed. ' We did more business in half an hour,' wrote Hamilton in a final despatch to the same minister, ' than we should have done in a week in the usual official way. Captain Troubridge went straight to the point. ... I prevailed upon General Acton to write himself an order in the name of His Sicilian Majesty, directed to the governors of every port in Sicily, to supply the King's ships with all sorts of provisions, and in case of an action to permit the British seamen, sick or wounded, to be landed and taken proper care of in their ports.' ^ The draft, however, contains a telling supplement. ' He expressed only a wish to get sight of Buonaparte and his army, " for," said he, " By God, we shall lick them!' ' ^ Before Nelson's officers departed, they received also from Hamilton's hands Gallo's fatuous replies to their Admiral's questions of five days before.* Troubridge was perforce 'satisfied,'^ but within an hour > Eg. MS. 263s, f. 287. ^ Sir William's despatch to Lord Grenville, June 18, 1798. Cited from the P.R.O. by Professor Laughton in Colburn's United Service Magazine, May 1889. 3 Eg. MS. 263s, f. 289. * This new fact appears from yet another oraft of Hamilton's despatch sold at Sotheby's, July 8, 1905. ^ The word 'satisfied' occurs both in Hamilton's official letter to Lord St. Vincent of June 17 (Morrison MS. 318), and in Acton's to Hamilton of June 18 (Eg. MS. 2640, f. 71). The preceding account is the purport of the light cast on what Hamilton describes in his official letters by Acton's letters to him of the day following and the 22nd, when a regular council was held. Eg. MS. 2640, ff. 71, 72, 73, 75. The two latter are very important. In the first he acknowledges an unsurviving communication from Hamilton of the night previous (June 21) — four days, be it noticed, after Troubridge had received the secret but formal mandate. It establishes : . (i) (By implication), that something had happened known to Hamilton but '^unknown to Acton. (2) That something had led to a demand for co-operation with the English by Naples. (3) That even Acton could not gain the grant of this, until the secret negotiations with Austria were concluded. (4) That Acton considered Buonaparte's presence at Malta a mere means 2o8 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON he was joyful.^ Something else, something informal, some- thing surprising had happened. The King was probably asleep. Emma had rushed to the Queen, for they both knew how little such a conclave would probably achieve ; and Gallo's attendance of itself was enough to deter Acton from straightforward compliance. Nelson might fancy this council's ' order ' a quick passport to his desires. But they knew its formal flourishes to be most misleading. In the result, indeed, it proved of itself most disappointing.^ Emma's own after-story is that she besought Maria Carolina, with tears and on bended knees, to exercise her preroga- tive and supplement the mandate by the promise of direct instructions. From after events and from inveterate habit the dramatic scene is probable. Years afterwards, she added that her husband wrote to Nelson, ' You will receive from Emma herself what will do the business and procure all your wants.' ^ One can see this impulsive woman clap- ping her hands for joy, and singing aloud with exultation. Within two hours Troubridge and Hardy had rowed back to the Mutine and rejoined their Admiral. Within a few hours at any rate Emma, throbbing with excitement, penned two hasty notes to Nelson himself, both included in her newly found correspondence of this year. Each — and they are brief — must be repeated here, for the second of them disposes of the version, hitherto for him to get possession of Naples. (In this view Nelson then agreed. Cf. Morrison MS. 319.) (S) That the Malta affair must inevitably now lead to an open rupture with France. With regard to point (3), Acton's most important letter to Hamilton of June 25, Eg. MS. 2640 (f. 75) and of August I following (Morrison MS. 327) should also be compared. This letter was forwarded by him to Nelson {ibid. 328). The second shows that the mandate handed to Troubridge on June 17 was informally obtained, and that the French protests occasioned its formal consider- ation in council on the 22nd. ' The expression in Hamilton's draft of his despatch is ' in high good humour.'' 2 Cf. Eg. MS. 2640, f. 76 (Acton to Hamilton, June 28, 1798). ^ Cf. Pettigrew, vol. ii. p. 612. Seeing that the suspected and Emma-prompted Harrison omits this altogether, and also that Pettigrew further on correctly alludes to the letter that I have discovered, and shall shortly mention as the one to which Nelson's hitherto disputed letter of June 17 was the immediate answer, I incline to believe that Pettigrew had seen the manuscript. As will appear, there are several of Emma's disputed assertions as to words used which can be now substantiated. TRIUMPH 209 accepted, that Nelson never received that from the Queen which his famous letter to Lady Hamilton represents him as ' kissing ' ; while the first suggests a likelihood that this thrilling day did not close before Emma had managed to see Nelson himself at Capri.^ Both these letters are scrawled in evident haste. \\TthJune 1798.] ' My dear Admiral, — I write in a hurry as Captain T. Carrol ^ stays on Monarch. God bless you, and send you victorious, and that I may see you bring back Buonaparte with you. Pray send Captain Hardy out to us, for I shall have a fever with anxiety. The Queen desires me to say everything that's kind, and bids me say with her whole heart and soul she wishes you victory. God bless you, my dear Sir. I will not say how glad I shall be to see you. Indeed I cannot describe to you my feelings on your being so near us. — Ever, Ever, dear Sir, Your afifte. and gratefull Emma Hamilton.'* But now comes a decisive epistle, the missing link, bear- ing in mind Nelson's disputed answer to it, which the critics have racked their brains to transfer to the following May — a date, by the by, historically most inapplicable.* Theory, however, must here yield to this piece of reality on a scrap of notepaper. The letter, written very hurriedly, is on the same paper and evidently of the same date as its predecessor : — ' Dear Sir, — I send you a letter I have received this moment from the Queen. Kiss it, and send it back by Bowen, as I am bound not to give any of her letters. — Ever your Emma.' ^ 1 In her letter to Nelson of September 8 of this year she beseeches him to 'rejoin them.' Cf. Add. MS. 34,989, ff. 3-6, and see the letter itself in the Appendix. ^ According to Byrne, Carrol was on the Syren in 1797-1799. ^ Add. MS. 34,989, f. I. Addressed 'Admiral Sir Horatio Nelson,' indorsed • Lady Hamilton, 17th June 1798.' The indorsement leaves no doubt as to the date. * On 'May' (as the letter is misdated without question) 17, 1798, the Neapolitan royalties were 'suffering.' On May 17, 1799, they were almost assured of Nelson's fleet as their avengers at Naples, nor was a 'battle' imminent, ^ Add. MS. 34,989, f. 3. Two more in this series are so signed. Cf. fast, App., pp. 49S> 500- O 2ro EMMA, LADY HAMILTON Captain Bowen of the Transfer had brought Hamilton despatches from Lord St. Vincent just a week before, aod was his guest until the 2nd of August subsequent.'^ The fact that Emma begs for the letter's return indicates that it was one of importance, and might compromise the Queen. After the battle of the Nile Emma sent Nelson two of the Queen's ordinary letters about him, as a token of gratitude, and without any request for their redelivery.^ This missive from the Queen seems to have been one promising Nelson some further document of direct in- structions to the governors of ports in event of future urgency. As will appear in the course of our chronicle, all the probabilities point to such a letter being in Nelson's possession afterwards at Syracuse on July 19-23, as a potent alternative if Acton's orders missed fire, and also as a pledge of instant commands to the governors, should its own efficacy prove unavailing. After-evidence points further to the King's entire and lasting ignorance of a transaction behind his back, and in the teeth of his prejudices. If the fleet was watered, he was to remain hoodwinked, and to imagine that Acton's guarded ' order ' in his name had proved efficacious. ^ Bowen acted as Lord St. Vincent's intermediary with Hamilton. For the facts in the text are proved by the following manuscripts, Eg. MS. 2640, f. 67, where Acton, on June 10, 1798 (Sunday), thanks Hamilton for ' Bowen's news.' And cf. ibid. 73, where, on June 22, he would seem to have been present at a council ; cf. also ibid. ff. 63, 78. Also cf. for the date of his arrival a week before, Eg. MS. 2638, f. 287, Morrison MS. 317, where on June 16, 1798, Hamilton writes to Nelson that he hopes the despatches sent by Lord St. Vincent by Bowen will reach him (which they did not, as Nelson arrived off Naples sooner than was anticipated) ; and ibid. 328, which mentions Bowen's departure August 2, 1798. On this very June 17 Hamilton tells Lord St. Vincent, ' I look on my having detained Captain Bowen so long as a fortunate circUinstance, as I am by it enabled to give intelligence,' etc. Bowen must not be confused with his better-known brother, who died in the attack of Teneriffe in 1797, and whose ' bag of doubloons ' Nelson forwarded home. He was the Bowen shortly to be promoted at Hamilton's request by Lord St. Vincent, and for whose preferment Nelson was to press the Admiralty in vain during 1801-2. Cf. Add. MS. 34,992, f. 112. Nelson recommended him for the Ocean. In 1801 Nelson specially requested Emma to tell him that he was wanted for the Boulogne Flotilla (Pettigrew, vol. ii. p. 151). In later days he often visited Merton, and he stayed with the Boltons just before he died. Cf. post, chap. xv. 2 Cf. Add. MS. 34,989, f. 3, September 8, 1798. The letter will be found in the first new series given in the Appendix to this volume. Y""^ cv^>