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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2016 with funding from 
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 https://archive.org/details/emmaladyhamiltonOObail_O 
 
The Life of 
 Emma, Lady Hamilton 
 
* 
 

Emma, Lady Hamilton 
 
 A Biographical Essay 
 With a Catalogue of 
 Her Published Portraits 
 
 By 
 
 J. T. Herbert Baily 
 
 (Editor of The Connoisseur) 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 
THE J. PAUL GETTY MUSEUM L1BRAHT 
 
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 A BACHANTE 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 M any books have been written about the nursery-maid who 
 became the wife of an Ambassador, and the confidante 
 of a Queen, the woman whom Romney painted and Nelson 
 loved. But not yet has justice been done either to the character 
 or to the romantic career of Emma, Lady Hamilton. Women 
 do not get justice easily — perhaps less so in this country than 
 in others, where men are not supposed to have all the perquisites 
 of passion, and women the penalties only. Perhaps we are 
 beginning to acquire a healthier sense of fair play in the relations 
 between men and women, so there is less of that hypocrisy 
 among us that has so long posed as virtue. Women have at 
 least proclaimed the doctrine of equal rights ; if they have not 
 obtained them. “The law for the man,” they say, “shall be the 
 law for the woman. Shall he sin and be excused, while we who 
 sin are stoned ? Shall he be coarse, violent, selfish, luxurious, 
 indulgent, while we must be self-sacrificing, meek and mild in 
 all things ? We will exact man’s virtue for woman’s virtue, and 
 where men have liberty, so shall women ! ” Such a doctrine, 
 preached boldly now, was unknown in the days of Lady Hamilton. 
 Human nature itself was not allowed to women. Young ladies 
 who had been to a “ finishing school ” were commonly supposed 
 to have eliminated such an undesirable attribute of womanhood. 
 Men might be as “human” and as “natural” as they liked — 
 and they liked both qualities pretty considerably — but woman, 
 divine woman, must be put on a pedestal to be worshipped as 
 a creature of flawless make. But woe betide her if she fall ! 
 
 5 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 Yet, after all, even in those days, virtue was not easier for 
 women than for men, although men believed it so, or made believe. 
 Women had their wild emotions and their longings, but they had 
 to hide them under the crochet cover, and show a smiling face 
 when their “ honour’d sir ” came home from hunting, or drinking, 
 or dicing, or other manly pleasures. Willy-nilly, the “respectable ” 
 woman had to pose in a strained and unnatural position on the 
 pedestal of man’s conceit and selfishness. And woe betide her 
 if she fall ! Then there would be fine sport for virtuous men 
 and women, for Lady Sneerwell, and Mrs. Candour, and Sir 
 Benjamin Backbite, for the wits of the coffee houses, the sots of 
 the tavern, the Grub-street hacks, and for all those “malicious, 
 prating, prudent gossips, both male and female, who murder 
 character to kill time,” to flatter their vanity, or to earn a guinea. 
 The men especially would go a-hunting with a gay Tally-ho ! and 
 chase a woman’s reputation through the foulest mud, in a brave 
 and gallant way, tearing the clothes off her back when they 
 brought her to the ditch, and, generally, the man who had first 
 ruined her honour, was the one to put the hounds on the scent 
 and ride hardest after the poor quarry. He, of course, was a 
 blameless gentleman, with not a stain upon his character. It was 
 only the woman who had sinned, and she must pay the price. 
 
 So it was with Lady Hamilton. There is no need to white- 
 wash her character. She was a woman of warm heart and 
 passions, a woman of perfect beauty, and therefore fine game for 
 the hunter ; she was frail, and she fell. But let us give her the 
 fair play which she did not get in her lifetime, nor afterwards. 
 Like many another innocent country girl who came to London 
 in a humble situation, her fresh beauty and her ingenuousness 
 made her an easy prey for a scoundrel with an easy conscience 
 and a fondness for a pretty face. But who will hurl a stone at 
 his victim and let the man go scot free ? Rather one’s admiration 
 
 6 
 
Introduction. 
 
 must go out to the girl who, in spite of an early experience in 
 the wickedness of the world and the selfishness of men, kept 
 so much of her innocence, so much natural affection, such an 
 excellent good heart, such real purity of mind, as “ Amy Lyon,” 
 afterwards Emma, Lady Hamilton, exhibited for the best part 
 of her life. 
 
 For it is impossible to believe that the woman whom Horatio 
 Nelson loved and almost worshipped, whose name was in the 
 prayers he uttered with his dying breath, and whom he left “ as a 
 legacy to his king and country,” was an abandoned and immoral 
 woman, as commonly described. Nelson had no grossness in his 
 nature. He had a singularly high and noble mind, in spite of 
 the one moral weakness into which he unhappily fell. His love for 
 Lady Hamilton was not wholly ignoble. In her presence he felt 
 inspired, not to indolence and ease, but to greater deeds of glory. 
 Her beauty was a talisman to him in the hour of battle. His 
 patriotism was never so ardent as when he laid his honours at her 
 feet. To him she seemed a good and gracious woman — “ one of the 
 very best women in the world ” — and never did he feel that he was 
 stooping to a woman of soiled honour, but rather protested his own 
 unworthiness to possess her love. Doubtless he exaggerated the 
 qualities of her character, but it is incredible that a man like Nelson, 
 whose refined and pious instincts were almost in advance of his own 
 time, should have given this homage to a thoroughly evil woman. 
 Nor in any of her letters, many of which have been preserved, is 
 there a word of coarseness, or a trace of low thought, such as must 
 have inevitably crept out in her intimate correspondence to a 
 man like Charles Greville, for instance, with whom she had lived as 
 a wife for several years. In her early days, indeed, and when she 
 and Greville had their menage a deux at Paddington Green, it was the 
 man, and not the woman, who lost his honour. Although the union 
 had not been sanctioned either legally or religiously, there are few 
 
 
 7 
 
Emma Lady Hamilton. 
 
 wives who have loved so loyally, or so ardently as Emma Lyon kept 
 faith with her “ protector.” He gave her a home, and what he no 
 doubt considered the priceless advantage of his cultured conversa- 
 tion, but she had more to give in return, a fresh and exquisite 
 beauty, “ more perfect than anything of antique art,” as the 
 connoisseur himself admitted when he wished to barter her, a 
 candid simplicity and gaiety of spirits, refreshing even to a cold 
 and blase gentleman like the “ respectable Mr. Greville,” a warmth 
 of affection which she lavished upon him in return for his un- 
 emotional patronage, the docility of a child, and a gratitude that 
 deserved more generosity than Greville gave. The cruel callous- 
 ness of the man who took her heart without the slightest touch of 
 compunction, and passed her over to his uncle for a mercenary 
 consideration, is a thousand times more shameful than any act in 
 the life of the woman who became Lady Hamilton. Yet, to his own 
 generation, Greville was a most admirable and highly respectable 
 gentleman, quite a Sir Charles Grandison in his way, so refined were 
 his manners, and so elegant his maxims. There was not a word of 
 reproach for him ; but all the curs of the town were barking and 
 yelping at the reputation of the woman he had abandoned, when she 
 had become famous and was therefore worth defaming. Every 
 scurrilous tavern-lounging scribbler who could earn a guinea by 
 soiling a woman’s honour with his foul pen fastened some story of 
 shame to the early days of Emma Hamilton, when she was a young 
 and humble girl. It was an age when the anonymous biographer 
 could do his worst without fear of libel, and tell disgusting tales, pro- 
 vided he cloaked them under a sufficient show of pious reproach and 
 canting morality. Lady Hamilton, the wife of a British Ambassador, 
 and the woman for whom our greatest Admiral lost his heart, was 
 an excellent subject for such anonymous slander, and she was not 
 spared. Neither was the bite of Sir Benjamin Backbite behind- 
 hand. They were eager to have a personal share in the chroniques 
 
 8 
 
LADY HAMILTON AS “NATURE. 
 From an engraving by J . R. Smith. 
 
 BY ROMNEY. 
 
Introduction. 
 
 scandaleuses of so famous a beauty, and boasted in the clubs of 
 incidents in the early life of that lady which had no foundation 
 except in their own imaginings, or hinted with many “ I could an’ I 
 would,” that she had been a good deal worse than was commonly 
 supposed. It is difficult to disprove such stories. Mud has a habit 
 of sticking, and much has stuck to Emma Hamilton. Yet for any 
 clean and wholesome mind it is as well to brush on one side all this 
 scurrility of anonymous pens and club room gossip, and to judge 
 Lady Hamilton by the proved facts of her career. That she was 
 the mistress of Greville is not to be denied, nor even lightly 
 excused, that she lived with Sir William Hamilton years before he 
 married her, is also known, and much more excusable when 
 the facts of her “ exchange ” are clearly revealed. That Horatio 
 Nelson was her lover and the father of her child is a matter of 
 history. In these facts there is much to be deplored, but on the 
 other hand the character of Lady Hamilton contained much that 
 was admirable, charming, and heroic. Her loyal love for the man 
 who afterwards deserted her was only equalled by the affection and 
 tenderness which she showed for long years to the man who made 
 her his wife. But a stronger instance of her warm heart is shown 
 by her life-long affection for her mother. Women of low and evil 
 character do not as a rule show any reverence or natural affection 
 for their parents. But Lady Hamilton was always tenderly 
 solicitous for her mother’s welfare, always eager to have the old 
 lady by her side, even at the most brilliant period of her career, 
 when the humble demeanour and uncultured manners of the mother 
 must have been an embarrassment to her. That, at least, should 
 count for righteousness. Again, when placed by her own merits 
 and natural ability in a position of commanding influence, she used 
 her talents not for purely selfish ends, but in the service of the 
 British nation. Uneducated as she was in any literary sense, there 
 is no doubt that she was a good patriot and a good diplomat. The 
 
 9 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 influence she acquired over the mind of Queen Caroline of Naples, 
 as her closest friend and adviser, was used always for the good of 
 her country. On two occasions she was of the highest service to 
 England at a critical and dangerous time in our history, once by 
 warning Nelson of a secret combination of powers, and again 
 by enabling him to water his ships at neutral ports. Nor, however 
 guilty her love for Nelson was, did she play the base part of 
 Cleopatra to her Antony. Never did she tempt him from his duty, 
 or cause him to neglect it for love-in-idleness. “ If there were 
 more Emmas, there would be more Nelsons,” may not be literally 
 true, but, at least, England did not lose a victory because of Lady 
 Hamilton, and Nelson himself regarded her as his inspiration. 
 
 But apart from the moral side of her character, the romantic and 
 extraordinary career of the fair Emma deserves no little admira- 
 tion ; for, in its way, the fact that a girl who had been a poor 
 serving-maid in London, who had no advantages of education, and 
 who had lost her respectability on the threshold of womanhood, 
 should become the wife of a distinguished Ambassador, the adviser 
 and the most powerful friend of a King and Queen, that she should 
 rule over a brilliant salon, a queen herself in society, holding her 
 high position with dignity, graciousness, and consummate tact, is 
 as remarkable as the rise of a Corsican Lieutenant to be Emperor 
 of the French. For men there has always been a “carriere ouverte 
 aux talents,” but in the eighteenth or early nineteenth century, 
 women, in England at any rate, were the slaves of circumstance 
 and caste. Less difficult was it, as a rule, for a camel to go 
 through the eye of a needle, or a rich man -to enter heaven, than 
 for a girl of humble birth to become “a lady of quality,” or for one 
 who had fallen to get a foothold on the social ladder. It says much 
 for Emma’s force of character, something also — this we will allow 
 him — for the careful instruction of Charles Greville, that she should 
 have been able to play the part of an Ambassador’s wife with so 
 
Introduction, 
 
 much assurance, and with few, if any, lapses from the social 
 etiquette of the time. But above all it speaks eloquently for the 
 natural charm of her manners. Neapolitan nobles and their ladies 
 would not, perhaps, have noticed a slip in grammar, or an uncon- 
 ventional vivacity of spirits which would have been considered 
 “unladylike” in London, but they were quick to appreciate her good 
 nature, and her simple desire to please and be pleased. But she 
 had one attribute worth more in most men’s eyes, and in women’s 
 too, than the elegances of “ the finishing school,” or the niceties of 
 the social code : Emma Hamilton was beautiful in her best years, of 
 such fresh, and sweet, and exquisite beauty, both in form and figure, 
 that it gained her an affection which would never have been hers 
 had a plain appearance been joined to a most irreproachable past. 
 From the portraits of Romney, who never tired of painting her, her 
 face looks out upon us, with its full pouting lips, large fawn-like 
 eyes, delicately chiselled nose, dainty curves of the dimpled cheeks, 
 and pretty pointed chin, smiling sometimes a little roguishly, some- 
 times pensive and serious, and in one portrait, the “ Lady Hamilton 
 in early life,” with a sweet and grave innocence in her round, timid 
 eyes. In nearly all these portraits the face conveys the same 
 impression, — that of a piquant and charming beauty, thoroughly 
 English in type, very fresh, and quite unspoilt by pearl pow T der or 
 paint. In none of them is there any trace of coarseness or vicious 
 self-indulgence. The mouth is a little weak, perhaps, and the 
 laughing eyes do not belong to a woman who takes life very 
 seriously, but in the days of her perfection the beauty of Lady 
 Hamilton was refined and ethereal. If Nelson had never loved the 
 fair Emma, Romney would have given her a fame as lasting as the 
 paint on his pictures. Best, perhaps, had it been for her if that 
 were her only fame. 
 
 ll 
 
LADY HAMILTON (EMMA HART). BY ROMNEY, 
 From the picture in the National Gallery. 
 
Chapter I. 
 
 A LTHOUGH in the archives of the municipality of Calais the 
 registration of Lady Hamilton’s death records her as having 
 been born in Lancashire, it has now been proved beyond a 
 doubt that her birth took place in the village of Nesse, in the 
 district of Great Neston, County Cheshire. The exact date of her 
 birth is still unknown, but in the Church Register of Great Neston 
 there is the following entry : 
 
 Amy, daughter of Henry Lyon, of Nesse, by Mary his wife. 
 
 Baptised the 12th of May, 1765. 
 
 It is believed that the child was two years old at the time of her 
 baptism, and in later life she always kept her birthday on April 26th. 
 Her father, who died within less than a month after having had his 
 little one baptised, was the village blacksmith, from which it will be 
 seen that the most famous beauty in the reign of George III. was 
 of the humblest origin. Her mother, whose maiden name was 
 
 13 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 Kidd, left in poverty by the early death of her husband, returned 
 with her little daughter to her native place of Hawarden, in 
 Flintshire, afterwards the famous home of W. E. Gladstone. Here 
 Dame Kidd, her mother, received her affectionately, and took 
 to her heart the baby girl, who was to be her pride, and perhaps 
 her greatest grief. “ Little Emily,” as she was called in those days, 
 seems to have had a happy childhood, and, through all the excite- 
 ment of her life, and when she had become a woman of rank and 
 fashion, she never forgot the old grand-dame, about whose skirts 
 she had played in the little Welsh village, and who had often 
 scraped up her savings to give to the young beauty for ribbons and 
 trinkets. 
 
 Years afterwards, when she was in a whirlpool of social gaiety, 
 the mistress of a brilliant salon, and the brightest ornament of 
 the Neapolitan Court, she found time to remember the old friend of 
 her youth. There are few more simple and touching letters by 
 famous women than the one she wrote to Charles Greville on 
 behalf of her grandmother. 
 
 “ I will trouble you,” she said, “with my own affairs, as you are 
 so good as to interest yourself about me. You must know I send 
 my grandmother, every Christmas, twenty pounds, and so I ought. 
 I have two hundred a year for nonsense, and it would be hard if I 
 could 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 favour ; for if the time passes without her 
 hearing from me she may imagine that I have forgot her, and I 
 would not keep her poor old heart in suspense for the world, and as 
 she has heard of my circumstances (I don’t know how) ; but she is 
 prudent, and therefore, pray lose no time, and Sir William will send 
 you the order. You know her direction — Mrs. Kidd, Hawarden, 
 Flintshire. Could you not write her a line from me and send it to 
 
 14 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 her, and tell her, by my order, and she may write to you, and 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 shall have twenty pounds. 
 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, and 
 believe me, Yours sincerely, Emma Hamilton. 
 
 This letter, so womanly and kind, is the best tribute to the 
 goodness of her heart, for no woman, entirely given up to vanity 
 and self-indulgence and ambition, would have troubled about an 
 illiterate old woman, who had befriended her as a child, or put 
 aside an annual sum of twenty pounds out of an allowance for 
 pin money that was certainly not extravagant for the wife of an 
 ambassador. Not many women would have felt unhappy at the 
 idea of wearing a gown costing twenty-five pounds at a court 
 ball, nor given the shadow of a thought about “ a poor old heart 
 in suspense.” But Lady Hamilton kept her simplicity of heart 
 longer than most women who had a knowledge of evil. She 
 “could not divest herself of her original feelings,” and, although 
 she had been a frail woman, the victim of circumstance more, 
 perhaps, than of her own weakness, her essential purity was 
 untouched. “Oh, my dear friend!” she once wrote to Romney, 
 with a touching candour, “ for a time I own, through distress, my 
 virtue was vanquished, but my sense of virtue was not overcome.” 
 Faulty though Lady Hamilton’s life was, anyone who studies her 
 character with sympathy and understanding, must acknowledge 
 that there was no trace of inherent vice in her temperament, and 
 that in spite of the villainies that had been practised upon her when 
 she was a young and helpless girl, she remained of a singularly 
 sweet and wholesome mind until the last troubles of her life 
 overthrew her mental balance. 
 
 15 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 When she was about fourteen years of age she became a nursery 
 maid at the house of Dr. Thomas, at Hawarden, and it was 
 probably upon the recommendation of her master that, a year later, 
 she obtained an engagement in London in the same position with 
 Dr. Budd, a physician of St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, whose house 
 was in Chatham Place, Blackfriars. It is a curious coincidence 
 that one of her fellow servants was also renowned in after years 
 as a great beauty, and, under the name of Mrs. Powell, fascinated 
 the patrons of the play-house with her talent and charm as an 
 actress at Drury Lane. One wonders whether good Dr. Budd was 
 aware of what choice flowers were blooming in his dingy dwelling- 
 place, or whether he regarded them merely as human scrubbing and 
 dusting machines. One would like to know a little more of the life 
 led by those tw'o young servant maids, who were both destined to 
 be famous. Perhaps it was at this time that “Little Emily” 
 developed her taste in theatrical attitudes, for which she was after- 
 wards renowned. It is likely enough that, with her fellow servant, 
 who, no doubt, had an early passion for the drama, she visited some of 
 the London playhouses during her “evenings out,” and was bewitched 
 by the glamour of the footlights and dazzled by the stars of the 
 stage. But practically the only source to which one may go for 
 information about this period of the fair Emma’s life, is one upon 
 which no reliance whatever may be placed. The anonymous 
 “ Memoirs of Lady Hamilton,” published shortly after her death, 
 contain so much slanderous and scandalous matter which, for the 
 most part, has been utterly disproved, while the text is now 
 discredited, that one cannot accept with any confidence the stories 
 they tell of Lady Hamilton’s girlhood, which otherwise do not 
 seem improbable. According to these famous and infamous 
 “ Memoirs,” Amy, or Emily, as she now called herself, became 
 engaged as an assistant in a London shop, patronised by many 
 ladies of fashion, who were attracted by the comeliness of the 
 
 16 
 
LADY HAMILTON AS “ARIADNE.” BY ROMNEY. 
 In the possession op Sir Audrey Neeld, Bart. 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 girl, and that years afterwards, when she was the wife of the 
 ambassador, she drove in a carriage to the place and expressed 
 her gratitude to her old master and mistress for their kindness 
 to her in the past. According to this work also, she was after- 
 wards taken into the household of a “ lady of quality,” who led a 
 gay and fashionable life, and who found that her new “ companion,” 
 or maid, added considerably to the attraction of her salon. A 
 very lively picture is drawn of the frivolous existence of the 
 young beauty who provides a text for much heavy moralising on 
 the evils of idleness, and the vicious influence of light and romantic 
 novels upon the mind and character of an impressionable girl. 
 After this experience, it is alleged that Emily fell into the hands 
 of a notorious charlatan, named Dr. Graham, who opened a 
 “Temple of Health,” wherein he gave lectures to fashionable, 
 as well as to disreputable people on the laws of beauty and 
 physical nature, using Emily Lyon as a model of “ the female 
 form divine.” There is no need here to give all the indelicate 
 and repulsive details of a story which rests upon no better 
 authority than an anonymous and scurrilous writer, and has not 
 been confirmed by any contemporary who professed to have seen 
 her personally in the situation described. Undoubtedly there 
 was such a person as Dr. Graham, who gave lectures on hygiene, 
 but there is little proof that there was anything of an indecent or 
 objectionable character in his methods or objects ; and there is 
 still less proof that Lady Hamilton was connected with him in 
 any way whatever. There are no allusions to such an episode 
 in her career in any of the letters which she wrote to Greville 
 a few years after the time during which she is said to have posed 
 as “ Hygeia,” and a careful comparison of the established dates 
 of her early career show how improbable it is that she should have 
 had any regular position in the “ Temple of Health.” We may 
 therefore pass on one side a story which no doubt originated in 
 
 17 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 the brain of a professional slanderer, who pandered to the eager- 
 ness of a certain public for “ Chroniques scandaleuses.” There is no 
 more direct evidence for another and more painful story connected 
 with these early years of Emily Lyon. The anonymous writer 
 of the “ Memoirs,” followed by Dr. Pettigrew, who was a more 
 respectable and trustworthy biographer, relates that Emily fell 
 in with a certain young naval officer named Captain John Willett- 
 Payne, under romantic circumstances, ending in a liason which 
 resulted in the birth of a child. It is said that one officer visited 
 her on behalf of a young married man who had been an old friend 
 of hers in Flintshire, and who had been carried off by the press- 
 gang from his wife and little children. Moved by compassion 
 for the grief of the poor wife, Emily is said to have gone to 
 Captain Payne, with whom she was slightly acquainted, and, with 
 tears in her eyes, begged him to use his influence to restore the 
 “ pressed man ” to his family, who relied on him for their daily 
 bread. The story goes that the young officer was astonished and 
 fascinated by the beauty and the extraordinary charm of his 
 suppliant, and that he granted her request in return for the favours 
 of her love. Thus it came about that Emily lost her innocence, 
 and while still almost a child herself, became a mother. This 
 fact is undoubtedly true. In the early days of the year 1780, 
 Emily returned to her mother at Hawarden, in shame and distress, 
 and brought into the world a little girl baby, to whom she gave 
 her own name. But there is no certainty as to the date of this 
 occurrence, and no definite proof, beyond the statement of Dr. 
 Pettigrew, that connects the child with the officer who afterwards 
 became an Admiral in the British Navy. Mr. Jeaffreson, the 
 most painstaking and accurate biographer of Lady Hamilton, casts 
 doubt upon the whole narrative. It seems much more probable 
 that the father of the new “little Emily” was a fox-hunting 
 Squire named Sir Harry Featherstonehaugh, of Up Park, Sussex, 
 
 18 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 with whom Emma Lyon, or “ Emma Hart,” as she now called 
 herself, lived for nearly a year. This sporting baronet was a 
 young spark whose ideas of morality were certainly not in advance 
 of his time, and who sowed a plentiful crop of “ wild oats,” 
 before settling down as a county magnate. He became fascinated 
 with the charms of the London servant-maid who was now on 
 the threshold of womanhood, and had blossomed into the per- 
 fection of her astonishing beauty. Everything points to the fact 
 that it was he who seduced her from her childish innocence, and 
 he did his best to ruin her irretrievably. He carried her off to 
 his country house, and introduced her openly as his mistress to 
 his set of boon companions. For many months at Up Park 
 Emma went through the wildest and gayest period of her 
 chequered career. It is no wonder if she lost her head for a 
 time. Though not the wife of the handsome young Squire, she 
 was nominally the mistress of his household, and was treated 
 with mock respect, and with what was no doubt the sincere 
 admiration of all the young bloods who sponged on the wealth 
 of a “jolly good fellow,” and toasted his fair charmer at many 
 a hunting breakfast. To a girl who had been leading a narrow 
 life in domestic service, all this jovial Bohemianism was intoxi- 
 cating. Emma seems to have thrown herself into the gaieties 
 of her surroundings with youthful and buoyant spirit. She learnt 
 to ride like a young Diana, and rode to hounds after her sporting 
 squire with a boldness and grace that aroused the enthusiasm 
 of his friends. Probably there seemed no reason to her why 
 such a life should ever come to an end. Youth and beauty do 
 not trouble about the clouds of to-morrow if there is sunshine 
 to-day. But the clouds came, and the dark shadows, as they 
 were bound to come. Sir Harry Featherstonehaugh tired of 
 his toy ; or perhaps he resented her high spirits and warm- 
 heartedness, which endangered his sole possession of her beauty ; 
 
 19 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 for, whatever the cause, at the end of 1781, he abandoned her, 
 and Emily had to go back once more in poverty, and deeper 
 still in shame, to the mother and the old grand-dame, who were 
 always ready to forgive her, and welcome her home. Her “little 
 Emily” was being nursed by Dame Kidd, who crooned over 
 the tiny morsel of humanity not with less joy because it was a 
 “ love-child.” Perhaps the young mother also found a brief joy 
 in nursing her own babe, and forgot the darkness of her future 
 when holding it to her breast. She was not one to “divest 
 herself of her original feelings.” In her simplicity, also, she 
 still hugged the hope that Sir Harry Featherstonehaugh would 
 ask her to come back again. She could not believe that he had 
 cast her off for ever. So in her servant-maid handwriting, with 
 round large letters, with much difficulty in spelling out the words, 
 she wrote letter after letter to the squire, begging him to 
 remember his words of love, entreating him not to desert her, 
 and cast her adrift on the world. But never once did the village 
 postman stop at her cottage door, and no answer came from the 
 man who had ruined her. Then the girl-mother got into a panic. 
 The neighbours “ looked coolly upon her.” Her mother and 
 grandmother could not afford to keep her. What was to happen 
 to her ? the future looked dark and dreary ; to whom could she 
 turn for help ? There was one man among the friends of Sir 
 Harry who had been kind to her in a different way to the boisterous 
 homage of the country squires. He had treated her with a grave 
 and old-fashioned courtesy. He had seemed to her a fine and 
 noble gentleman, amiable with women, and not too severe in his 
 manner, but with none of the noisy licentiousness of Sir Harry’s 
 sporting comrades. Mr. Charles Greville had not forgotten 
 her. He had written to her wishing her happiness. Perhaps 
 his interest in her was of a warmer kind than she had suspected 
 when he had been “good to her” at Sir Harry’s house. So 
 
 20 
 
LADY HAMILTON AS “ BACCHANTE ” 
 
 BY SIR JOS. REYNOLDS. 
 
 From the original painting in the Cranhury Park Collection. 
 
 By kind permission of the owner, Tankerville Chamberlayne, Esq., M.P. 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 she sat down and wrote a passionate and pathetic letter, thanking 
 him for his kind note. “ It put me in some spirits,” she said, 
 “ for, believe me, I am almost distracted.” She told him how 
 she had written seven times to Sir Harry, but had got no answer. 
 Then she poured out her distress and fears in broken, ill-spelt 
 sentences. “ What shall I dow ? Good God ! what shall I dow ? ” 
 she cried: “I can’t come to town caus I am out of money. I 
 have not a farthing to bless myself with, and I think my frends 
 looks cooly on me. I think so. O, Grevell, what shall I dow ? 
 what shall I dow ? O, how your letter affected me when you 
 wished me happiness. O, Grevell, that I was in your position 
 or still with Sir H. What a happy girl I would have been ! — 
 girl indeed ! what else am I but a girl in distres — in reall distres ? 
 For God’s sake G., writ the minet you get this, and tell me what 
 to dow ... I am almos mad. O, for God’s sake tell me what 
 is to become on me. O, dear Grevell, writ to me. Grevell 
 adieu, and believe me yours for ever — Emily Hart. 
 
 “ Don’t tell my mother what distres I am in, and dow aford 
 me some comfort.” 
 
 This letter of entreaty, which was to lead to a new chapter in 
 her life, is just such a one as would be written by any poor girl 
 whose life had been ruined by a fall from innocence, and who knew 
 not where to turn or what to do to save herself from absolute 
 misery. It is the cry of a wounded heart, turned into panic- 
 stricken pleading of a girl who for the first time in life knows the 
 horror of despair. Yet even in this anguish there is a simple little 
 touch of unselfishness, and thoughtfulness for the feelings of one 
 dear to her. “ Don’t tell my mother what distress I am in ” ; these 
 words show the same tenderness which was revealed many years 
 afterwards by the fashionable Lady Hamilton who could not bear 
 to keep a “poor old heart in suspense” — the heart of her old 
 grandmother who had befriended her in her time of trouble. 
 
 21 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 Chapter II. 
 
 GREVELL, what shall I dow?” The cry must have stirred 
 the emotions even of that elegant man of fashion, and 
 connoisseur of all bric-a-brac such as Greek antiques and 
 women’s hearts — the Honourable Charles Francis Greville, second 
 son of the Earl of Warwick, and Elizabeth, daughter of Lord 
 Archibald Hamilton. 
 
 As he read this scrawling letter, unpunctuated and ludicrously 
 spelt, and blotted with tears, there rose to his mind the picture of a 
 girl’s face, simple, fresh and piquant, exquisitely modelled and 
 deliciously coloured ; and of a girl’s form, lissome and a little 
 undeveloped, but with the promise of a ripe and glorious perfection 
 of womanly beauty. “O, for God’s sake, tell me what is to become 
 on me.” It was not the entreaty of an ordinary girl whose pretti- 
 ness lasts no longer than that of the hedgerow flower when it is 
 plucked and thrown away. The woman who cried to him for help 
 was a creature cast from a most rare mould. Greville, perhaps, 
 looked round at his Greek busts and Etruscan vases, and the 
 pictures of nymphs and goddesses on his walls, and perhaps there 
 came to him then that thought which was afterwards uttered by 
 his Uncle, Sir William Hamilton, when the two connoisseurs met 
 bartering, in a highly refined and genteel way, for a woman’s 
 body and soul. “ By heaven, she is more perfect than anything 
 in antique art.” 
 
 In an elegant hand that contrasted with the servant-maid’s 
 scrawl before him, Sir Charles Greville wrote another “ kind 
 letter” to the despairing Emily, telling her to come to him for 
 
 22 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 protection, and sending her enough money to bring her comfortably 
 to London. He warned her against her natural generosity. She 
 was not to waste the money in giving presents to her family and 
 friends. There would be time enough to make a nice present to 
 the old grandmother when she had settled down in his house. And 
 she was to be a good girl and try to please him by obedience and 
 docility, putting away her wildness, and comforting him by improv- 
 ing herself in education and elegant accomplishments. Lord 
 Chesterfield himself could not be more cultured and refined in his 
 sentiments to the weaker sex than the fashionable Charles Greville, 
 who conducted even his immoralities in the most gentlemanly way ! 
 To the poor girl in the Flintshire village such a letter seemed as 
 noble as it was kind. As if the sunshine had at once dispelled all 
 the dark clouds from her life, her spirits rose to an ecstasy of joy. 
 She had found a protector who would shelter her from shame, and 
 who would give her a happy home in return for her love, which 
 already she was eager to lavish upon him in gratitude for his 
 generosity. So Emily Hart left the village of Hawarden, to which 
 she was never again to return, and began the new chapter of her 
 life in London. It was in a small but “ gentool ” town — the old- 
 fashioned adjective comes naturally to the pen when writing of the 
 Georgian period — situated in the Edgeware Road, Paddington, that 
 Charles Greville received the beauty in distress. It was a quiet, 
 and, indeed, a rural retreat, for in those days boys played cricket 
 on Paddington Green, and children plucked wild flowers in the 
 lanes of Edgeware. It was sufficiently far from Mayfair for Greville 
 to keep the privacy of his “ menage a deux,” and yet sufficiently 
 close to town to enjoy the society of those friends whose discretion 
 he could trust. 
 
 Greville was by no means the wealthy man that he has sometimes 
 been represented by the biographer of Lady Hamilton. His income 
 amounted to about £500 a year before he obtained the appointment 
 
 23 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 of Vice-Chamberlain at a later period. This, though modest 
 according to present reckoning, when the ideas of wealth have 
 been enlarged by the progress of trade, was considered a comfort- 
 able competency for a single gentleman of elegant tastes, though 
 not admitting much in the way of extravagance. But Greville, in 
 spite of being the son of a peer, and having much “ blue-blood” in 
 his veins, was not above supplementing his income by a little 
 trading and business enterprise in a private way. It was, doubtless, 
 by his suggestion that he became a kind of London agent to his 
 uncle, Sir William Hamilton, for the sale of works of art to 
 the bric-a-brac dealers. As Ambassador and Envoy Extraordinary 
 to the Court of Naples, Sir William Hamilton was not only able to 
 gratify his tastes as a connoisseur and collector of Italian 
 antiquities, but also to establish a very successful business, 
 avoiding, of course, any awkward publicity, in articles of “ vertu ” 
 and the like. Greville and Sir William were men of very similar 
 tastes, the nephew being as much a connoisseur and a savant as the 
 uncle himself. They were, therefore, able to form a very useful 
 and profitable partnership to the advantage of both. For whereas 
 the Ambassador had admirable opportunities for picking up cheap 
 bargains from needy noblemen and Italian dealers, for the 
 ostensible reason of adding to his own private collection of art 
 treasures, Charles Greville, who was a shrewd man of business, 
 could find a market for these wares in England, where at that time 
 every man of wealth considered it “the right thing” to amass 
 “ objets d’art.” In this way Greville was able to add to his £500 a 
 year, besides gaining a reputation in town as a man of elegance and 
 taste , for naturally his own rooms contained many treasures which 
 he was either unable to dispose of quickly, or held back for his own 
 enjoyment. 
 
 When the errant and beautiful Emma came to live with him she 
 found herself in an environment of simple elegance and refinement, 
 
 24 
 
LADY HAMILTON AS “ BACCHANTE.” BY MADAME VIGEE LE BRUN. 
 From the original painting in the Cranbury Park Collection. 
 
 By kind permission of the owner , Tankerville Chamberlaync , Esq., M.P. 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 and being a young woman of much sensibility, she quickly adapted 
 herself to her surroundings, and educated her naturally artistic 
 temperament. Greville was a man without any violence of passion, 
 and, in spite of any deep moral sentiment or religious faith, had 
 that reverence of “ good taste ” which was so characteristic of the 
 eighteenth century. Emotionalism, enthusiasm, passion of any 
 kind was considered “foreign,” and therefore detestable, but an 
 easy immorality was tolerated, provided it were conducted in a 
 restrained and outwardly respectable manner. This was typical of 
 Greville’s own character, and, although living with a young woman 
 without legal sanction, he did not consider it inconsistent to 
 adopt an almost fatherly, and highly dignified, manner towards his 
 protegee. Like Mr. Joseph Surface, he was a man of many 
 sentiments, and his lectures to Emma on the subject of propriety 
 and general deportment would have gratified the author of the 
 immortal “ Grandison.” Nor did he stop with the cultured 
 eloquence which made Emma feel herself unworthy of so fine a 
 gentleman and so noble a soul. He was really anxious that she 
 should be a credit to his high ideals of good taste, and possess all 
 the elegance which would fit her for the inestimable privilege of 
 being his daily companion. He therefore procured for her a good 
 singing master, at considerable expense, it seems, and a tolerable 
 master of the pianoforte, so that her good voice and musical ear 
 might be thoroughly well trained, while it was his good pleasure to 
 correct her very faulty spelling and ill-educated handwriting — 
 offending to a man of such refinement — and to put such books in 
 her hand as might develop her intellect as far as it was considered 
 advisable for young ladies of that period. He also allowed her 
 sufficient money to dress in a becoming and tasteful manner, and 
 that she might have all the advantages of a gentlewoman, obtained 
 two maid-servants to wait upon her. Indeed, so careful was Mr. 
 Greville to do everything in a proper and decorous manner, that he 
 
 25 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton- 
 
 invited Emma’s mother from Flintshire, and that amiable woman 
 became a member of his little household. Probably it was Greville 
 who advised Mrs. Lyon to adopt a different name so that the 
 humble origin of “ Little Emily ” might be lost sight of as far as 
 possible. Henceforth, therefore, Emma’s mother was known by 
 the high-sounding name of Mrs. Cadogan, and if the lady’s speech 
 and manners were hardly in keeping with so grand an appellation, 
 it was not for the lack of good nature and the desire to please. 
 Indeed, there must have been some sterling qualities in the former 
 blacksmith’s wife, for not only Greville always spoke of her with 
 high respect, but in later years she gained the affection of Sir 
 William Hamilton, and the good opinion of Lord Nelson, both of 
 whom sent her their compliments and tokens of esteem from time 
 to time. Greville found her a useful member of his household, for 
 she was an excellent cook, and the little dinners he gave to select 
 friends entirely satisfied his ideals of the culinary art, of which he 
 was as much a connoisseur as of Greek antiques. 
 
 Probably Emma’s three years at Paddington Green were the 
 happiest in her life. She had quite repented of her “ giddiness,” 
 and there was hardly anything in her relationship with Greville at 
 this time which differed from the ordinary position of a wife. She 
 had a great reverence for her “ protector ” — to her he seemed the 
 noblest and best of men — and she listened to his suave lectures 
 with an almost childlike simplicity and docility. She worked hard 
 at improving her education, so that even her spelling became, in 
 time, no worse than that of the average gentlewoman of the day, 
 and Greville was much pleased with the progress she made in 
 singing and playing and other elegant accomplishments. Now and 
 again, no doubt, her higher spirits chafed a little at the constraints 
 placed upon her by the fine gentleman who detested any display of 
 emotion, or anything bordering on “unladylike” behaviour, and a 
 story is told of her, at this time, which seems to show that she was 
 
 26 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 not always able to control her natural excitability. One evening, so 
 the story goes, Greville took her for a treat to Ranelagh Gardens, 
 where, in a new gown he had given her, she looked more beautiful 
 than any of the ladies about her. For some time she sat listening 
 to a concert in one of the pavilions, with the sparkling eyes and 
 flushed cheeks of a country girl at a play, then suddenly, to the 
 astonishment and mortification of her companion, she rose from her 
 seat and, taking an uninvited part in the performance, sang one of 
 the songs she had been learning under her instructor. This 
 exhibition of her talents was received with delighted applause by 
 the audience, who wondered who the beautiful young woman could 
 be ; but Greville, shocked out of all good temper insisted on her 
 leaving with him at once. To a man of his sensitive temperament, 
 shrinking from anything like vulgar publicity, such a performance 
 from the woman at his side was naturally objectionable to the last 
 degree. On the way home he was silent and angry, and the fair 
 Emma’s excitement having subsided, she was no doubt conscious of 
 the deep offence she had given to her guardian. Upon reaching 
 the house at Paddington Green she ran up to her bedroom and 
 appeared presently in the old brown dress she had worn upon 
 leaving her Flintshire village. With tears in her eyes she ex- 
 pressed contrition for her fault, protesting that she was un- 
 worthy of Greville’s kindness and instruction, and that he would 
 be right in sending her away ; she would go back to her old home 
 again and be as miserable as she had been when he had rescued 
 her. Greville’s anger was dispelled by such simplicity and pathos, 
 and, after reading her a severe lecture in his firmest manner, 
 graciously pardoned the contrite beauty, and restored her to his 
 good favours. 
 
 Thus goes this interesting and romantic story ; but whether it is 
 founded on anything but the imaginative invention of some anony- 
 mous biographer is highly doubtful. Although the fair Emma was 
 
 27 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 of an excitable nature, and, certainly in later years, took an 
 extreme pleasure in the exhibition of her beauty and talent, it 
 seems improbable that she could have interrupted a public perform- 
 ance in such a sensational and uncalled for manner. 
 
 To these days belongs Emma’s introduction to the painter, 
 Romney, which led to her first celebrity as a beauty, and to one of 
 the most unfounded and basest accusations against her character. 
 George Romney was, like Emma herself, of humble origin ; his 
 father had been a carpenter, cabinet maker and small farmer in a 
 Cumberland village. Showing an early inclination for art, the boy 
 had been apprenticed to an eccentric and prolific portrait painter 
 named Christopher Steele, and under the instruction of this man 
 his genius was quickly revealed. As soon as he had served his 
 apprenticeship he- was rash enough to marry, at the age of twenty- 
 two, a girl of his own class, who bore him two children (one of 
 whom died in infancy) at a time when he had the poorest prospects 
 of supporting them. He set up a studio in Kendal and succeeded 
 in scraping up a living by painting portraits of the local gentry. 
 But he only received paltry prices for this work, and his commis- 
 sions were few and far between, while he was secretly convinced 
 that his power entitled him to both fame and fortune. There was 
 only one goal for his ambition, the great art world of London, and 
 he determined to leave his family under the charge of his father, so 
 that he might be free to work out his destiny. It was in 1762, 
 when twenty-eight years old, that Romney took this bold step. He 
 managed to raise about a hundred pounds by putting up all his 
 stock of paintings and studies in a lottery sale, and, giving half to 
 his wife, arrived in London with the humble capital of fifty pounds. 
 At Dove Court, near the Mansion House, and afterwards in Great 
 Newport Street, where his future rival Reynolds had previously 
 lived before moving into his fine house in Leicester Square, the 
 young painter took lodgings and worked industriously with his 
 
 28 
 
LADY HAMILTON AS “ BACCHANTE.” BY ROMNEY. 
 From the original painting in the Cranbury Park Collection. 
 By kind permission of Tankerville Chamberlayne Esq., M P. 
 

A Biographical Essay. 
 
 brush. He was successful in carrying off the second prize of fifty 
 guineas, offered by the Society of Arts, with a painting of “ The 
 Death of General Wolfe,” and this picture he subsequently sold for 
 twenty-five guineas. This success was very valuable to him, not 
 only in providing urgently needed funds, but in bringing him into 
 public notice. He was able to get many sitters for portraits, at 
 the moderate price of five guineas a head, and as he was a rapid 
 worker he soon found himself earning a fairly substantial income. 
 At this time also he obtained the friendship of Richard Cumber- 
 land, a well known dramatist and novelist of the day, who had 
 many distinguished acquaintances, and was therefore able to 
 introduce the young painter to patrons of art. Cumberland was 
 quick to recognise the genius of the young North Countryman, 
 and wrote a poem — excellent as a means of advertisement, however 
 faulty in metre — in which he bade “ Romney, advance ! be known; 
 and be admired.” The painter would now have been well able to 
 bring his wife and child to London, and to support them in comfort, 
 but for some reason, which has never been explained, he failed to 
 do so. Perhaps the objection was on Mrs. Romney’s side, and 
 being an uneducated, plain country woman, she may have refused to 
 live in an environment unsuited to her nature, where, perhaps, she 
 would have been scorned and ridiculed by her husband’s fashionable 
 sitters. Be that as it may, Romney, though he occasionally visited 
 his wife in Cumberland, never lived with her again until a few years 
 before his death, when she tenderly nursed him in his invalid, and 
 almost imbecile, condition. But there is no truth in the charge 
 that Romney was actuated by miserly motives, for he was noted for 
 the generous way in which he gave money to friends in distress, 
 and he advanced considerable sums to other members of his family. 
 For two and a-half years he travelled on the Continent studying the 
 world’s masterpieces at Rome, Florence, Bologna, Venice, Turin, 
 Paris and other cities, and then, with a fund of new experience and 
 
 29 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 new ideals, returned to London and established himself in Caven- 
 dish Square. Richard Cumberland and another fashionable 
 litterateur , named Hayley, still befriended him by procuring intro- 
 ductions to wealthy patrons, and the Duke of Richmond, whose 
 portrait he painted, and who greatly admired his work, was 
 specially kind to him in this way ; he not only commissioned 
 Romney to paint the portraits of celebrities, like Admiral Keppel, 
 Lord George Lennox, Lord John Cavendish, Edmund Burke, and 
 other great people in whom the Duke was interested, but set the 
 tide of fashion in favour of a painter whose genius rivalled that of 
 Sir Joshua himself, and — not a matter of small importance, even to 
 noble lords — whose prices were so very much more moderate. 
 
 As the years passed and his reputation increased, Romney put 
 up his price, but between 1776 and 1781 his price for a head was 
 only eighteen guineas compared with the thirty-five guineas of 
 Reynolds for the same period. How paltry do these sums now 
 seem in comparison with the present worth of the pictures by these 
 two masters, and in comparison with the prices of the fashionable 
 portrait painters of to-day ! 
 
 But although Romney at his best was always a worthy rival of 
 Reynolds, towards whom he always showed a rather morose and 
 jealous disposition, he never attained the same prosperity, or the 
 same contemporary renown. His friend, Richard Cumberland, has 
 left on record the weakness of his character, and the disappoint- 
 ments he met with ; — shy, private, studious and contemplative ; 
 conscious of all the disadvantages and privations of a very stinted 
 education ; of a nature naturally hypochondriac, with aspen nerves, 
 which his own and every breath could ruffle ; he was at once in art the 
 rival, and in nature the very contrast of Sir Joshua. A man of few 
 wants, strict economy, with no dislike of money, he had opportunities 
 enough to enrich him even to satiety; but he was at once eager to begin 
 and so slow in finishing his portraits, that he was for ever disappointed 
 
 30 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 of receiving payment for them by casualties and revolutions in the 
 families they were designed for. So many of his sitters were killed 
 off, so many favourite ladies were dismissed, so many fond wives were 
 divorced before he could bestow half an hour’s pains on their petti- 
 coats, that his unsaleable stock was immense ; whilst with a little more 
 regularity and decision he would have more than doubled his fortune, 
 and escaped an infinitude of petty troubles that disturbed his temper. 
 
 Among Romney’s patrons and admirers was the Earl of Warwick, 
 to whose notice Richard Cumberland had now brought him, and it 
 was by this means that the Honourable Charles Greville, the Earl’s 
 second son, came to select Romney as the painter who might 
 perpetuate the charms of his fair Emma, who was now at the 
 period of her most exquisite beauty. The portrait painter was 
 enraptured at the sight of Mr. Greville’s protegee. Here, indeed, was 
 a woman who might inspire his highest genius. Never before had 
 he painted from a model so perfect in form and features, so fresh 
 and ripe in colouring, with such soft and graceful symmetry, with 
 such sweet and sensitive expression. The painter received her as 
 a kind of gift from the gods, as if one of the statues of an early 
 Greek master had been endowed with life, and come in the glory of 
 the flesh to visit his rooms. With Greville’s consent, and to the 
 great pleasure of that gentleman, it was arranged that Emma 
 should sit for Romney frequently, and indeed, regularly for some 
 time, so that he might paint her in various attitudes, and as the type 
 of various classical characters. 
 
 For two or three years, therefore, Emma’s chief change from 
 the monotonous and somewhat narrow existence at Paddington 
 Green was her attendance at the studio of George Romney in 
 Cavendish Square. As the painter has himself recorded, Greville 
 was careful of the proprieties, and Emma invariably made the 
 journey to and fro in a hackney carriage, so that she might not be 
 seen walking in the public streets alone, and on many occasions 
 
 31 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 was accompanied by her mother, Mrs. Cadogan. These hours with 
 Romney were no doubt very happy ones. Emma delighted in her 
 own beauty, and her innocent vanity was gratified to the full by the 
 painter’s homage and flattery. He found her a model a thousand 
 times more valuable than the ordinary fashionable women who had 
 come to sit to him, for Emma, as he soon found, had a natural 
 genius for dramatic expression, gesture and pose. She divined by 
 a kind of inspiration his own ideal of any allegorical or classical 
 characters, and she could adopt with extraordinary facility an 
 expression of timidity, horror, haughtiness, shy innocence, tender- 
 ness, grief, or sensuous charm, in a manner that left nothing to his 
 imagination. It pleased her to astonish him with new attitudes and 
 with the variety of her expressions ; and no doubt the painter 
 suggested poses in imitation of the classical pictures and statuary 
 which had entranced him in Rome and Florence. It was this 
 training, and the revelation of her own dramatic power, which 
 suggested to Emma, in after days, when she had become Lady 
 Hamilton, the famous “ attitudes ” with which she used to delight 
 the Court of Naples. In simple flowing drapery, with a shawl, and 
 a few accessories, she used to pose in a series of imitations of 
 classic art, and many tributes were paid by her contemporaries to 
 the real grace and beauty of her performances. 
 
 From first to last, Romney painted about twenty-five finished 
 portraits of Emma Hart, or Lady Hamilton, as she afterwards 
 became, besides many studies. He ransacked his limited know- 
 ledge of classical mythology and ancient history for characters 
 she might represent, and her face and form are now familiar to 
 all lovers of art, under such various guises as St. Cecilia, 
 Cassandra, Diana, Iphigenia, Calypso, Joan of Arc, Mary Magdalen, 
 “ Sensibility,” Circe, A Pythian Priestess, A Spinstress, A 
 Bacchante and a Sibyl, besides others in her own dress, such 
 as, the simple, sweet-faced “ Emma,” showing his beautiful 
 
 32 
 

 
 
LADY HAMILTON AS “ CASSANDRA.” BY ROMNEY. 
 From the original painting in the Cranhury Park Collection . 
 By kinil permission of TankcrviUe Chamherlayne Esq., M.P. 
 

A Biographical Essay. 
 
 model as she may often have appeared to him when stepping out 
 of the hackney coach that came from Edgeware Road. Perhaps 
 it is his “Circe” that best reveals the astonishing loveliness of 
 Greville’s protegee, in those early years before her figure had 
 over-ripened. She was then only nineteen years of age, and, in 
 spite of her vicissitudes, she seems from this and other portraits 
 to have retained a virginal innocence of expression, as well as 
 the most perfect delicacy of features. There is, in fact, none 
 of the sensuousness of the goddess who formed men into swine 
 in this youthful “ Circe,” who stands erect with upraised hand 
 and grave, lustrous eyes, and a purity of expression that might 
 shine in the eyes of a Christian saint protesting against heathen 
 idols, and proclaiming her faith, in the Roman amphitheatre. 
 The chaste and delicate lines of her figure are revealed through 
 the close-clinging drapery, though in perfect modesty. Altogether, 
 Romney’s “Circe” is a noble and beautiful creature, and if this 
 was the true Emma, Greville and his uncle did not exaggerate in 
 saying that she was as admirable as anything in antique art. 
 
 In an age when any intimate relationship between man and 
 woman was the subject of coarse suggestion and evil construction, 
 it is natural, perhaps, that the frequent visits of Emma to Romney’s 
 studio should have provided the choicest scandal for the literary 
 scavengers of the day, who were always eager for the sport of 
 curs, in hunting down a woman’s fame. To their low-bred minds 
 it seemed impossible that there should be any innocence of friend- 
 ship between such a beautiful girl and the painter who loved to 
 reproduce her grace and charm on many canvases. It was known 
 that Romney had a wife and child, with whom he did not live. 
 It was famous also in after days that “ Nelson’s Lady Hamilton ” 
 had been a frail woman. Surely, therefore, every moral and 
 righteous person was justified in drawing the inevitable conclusion? 
 It is a worthy philosophy that belongs not to one age or to one 
 
 33 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 nation. “ Two and two make four” is a simple sum in arithmetic, 
 whether it be in the present year of grace or in the days when 
 the mental arithmetic of society was taught in the school of life 
 where passions were less restrained, and Dame Grundy was 
 always busy with her birch rod. Yet, after all, two and two 
 do not always make four, whatever the school books may say, 
 and though Romney was a wifeless husband, and Emma had 
 been weak, the “inevitable conclusion” is not in this case so 
 easy as it looks. It is a very narrow view of human nature to 
 think that because a woman has fallen into sin she must be 
 always sinning. To any fair and healthy mind there is no evidence 
 whatever that Emma’s affection for Romney was not of the most 
 innocent and spotless kind, based upon reverence for a man old 
 nough to be her father, and upon gratitude for all his goodness 
 to her. Surely there must be something rotten in society if 
 a lady cannot sit to an artist for her portrait without causing 
 the whispers of malicious tongues ! 
 
 In the anonymous “ Memoirs of Lady Hamilton,” which, in spite 
 of containing a number of lies that have now been nailed to the 
 counter, still influence the public mind against the character of the 
 woman so grossly maligned in them, it is boldly stated that 
 Romney’s “ propensities to sensual indulgence were well known to 
 all his acquaintances. With Emma he became enamoured while 
 painting her picture, as Apelles fell in love with Campaspe. 
 Certain it is that the modern artist had no cause to complain of the 
 severity of his mistress.” This statement is only one of the many 
 gross libels with which the book abounds, for, far from his 
 “ propensities to sensual indulgence being well known to all his 
 acquaintances,” not a word against his moral character was 
 written by his biographers, Hay ley and Cumberland, who knew him 
 intimately, and were candid in revealing his natural weaknesses. 
 Shy and retiring, and even morose at times, he never felt quite at 
 
 34 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 ease among the fashionable people who came to his studio, and 
 although he rhapsodised over the beauty of Emma to the few 
 friends who obtained his confidence, they at least never suspected 
 or accused him of having anything more than a fatherly feeling for 
 his inspiring model, coupled with a painter’s enthusiastic homage for 
 her charms. Nor is there any truth in the statement, repeated in 
 various ways by modern biographers of both Romney and Lady 
 Hamilton, that the characters in which he depicted her could not 
 be even represented without a wantonness of countenance, habili- 
 ment, and attitude.” Apart from the earnest assurance of 
 Romney’s son, that Emma only sat for the face and a first sketch 
 of the figure, the drapery and details of the form being painted from 
 another model, there is nothing in any one of the pictures in which 
 Romney portrayed her that offends the strictest ideals of modesty 
 either in posture or expression. 
 
 Above all, the slander is disproved by the behaviour of Charles 
 Greville, who, in spite of his peculiar sense of honour, was certainly 
 extremely careful of Emma’s good behaviour while she remained 
 under his protection. As already said, upon Romney’s own testimony, 
 he safeguarded her reputation by providing a hackney carriage to 
 take her to and from the studio, so that she need not be seen walking 
 in the streets, and on many occasions Mrs. Cadogan accompanied her. 
 That he was perfectly satisfied with her propriety during the whole 
 time she was with him may be seen from the letters which he wrote 
 to Sir William Hamilton at the end of that period. “She has never 
 wished for one improper acquaintance,” he said. “ She has dropt 
 everyone she thought I could take exception against, and those of 
 her own choice have been in a line with prudence and plainness, 
 which, though I might have wished for, I could not have proposed 
 to confine her. If you can find only one or two acquaintances, and 
 let her learn music and drawing, or anything to keep her in order, 
 she will be as happy as if you gave her every change of dissipation.” 
 
 35 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 And again, in another letter, he wrote: “You know that from 
 giddiness and dissipation she is prudent and quiet, and that, 
 surrounded with temptations, I have not any the least reason to 
 complain of her. My attentions do not lead me to make a parade of 
 her, and a sacrifice of my amusements or business. The secret is 
 simple — she has pride and vanity. I have for some years directed 
 them for her happiness.” This alluded, no doubt, to her attendance 
 upon Romney. “ She does not,” Greville went on, “ wish for much 
 society, but to retain two or three quiet creditable acquaintances in 
 the neighbourhood. She has avoided every appearance of giddiness, 
 and prides herself on the neatness of her person and the good order 
 of her house.” 
 
 It is perfectly evident that Greville was not only thoroughly 
 satisfied with the good behaviour of Emma herself, but that he had 
 not the least jealousy of Romney. Even after he had abandoned 
 the girl who loved him, he wrote to the painter in the friendliest 
 manner respecting his portrait of her as “ The Spinstress.” The 
 letter is doubly interesting because it reveals Greville in his best 
 “Sir Charles Grandison” manner, self-complacent and full of 
 “ noble sentiments.” 
 
 “ There are circumstances in connection with the transaction,” he 
 wrote, “ which force the natural bias of characters, and render it 
 prudent to change the scene of action to train them to necessary 
 sacrifices. The separation from the original of ‘ The Spinstress ’ has 
 not been indifferent to me, and I am but just reconciled to it, from 
 knowing that the beneficial consequences of acquirement will be 
 obtained, and that the aberration from the plan I intended will be 
 for her benefit. I therefore can have no reason to value * The 
 Spinstress ’ less than I have done ; on the contrary, the first estima- 
 tion of its merits is ascertained from the offer of a person who does 
 not know the original ; yet I find myself daily so much poorer that 
 I do not foresee what I can pay for it ; and I am already too much 
 
 36 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 obliged to you to avail myself, in any degree, of your kindness to 
 me. Perhaps Mr. Christian might accept my resignation of it, and 
 pay for it, and give me the option of repurchasing, if the improbable 
 event of my increase of means shall enable me to recover what I 
 now lose with regret. But I can make no condition, and I leave the 
 full and entire disposal of it to you.” 
 
 Years afterwards, as Lady Hamilton, Emma remembered her old 
 friend Romney with gratitude and affection, writing to him as “ my 
 dear sir, my friend, my more than father,” — terms that do not 
 suggest anything but an innocent and reverent relationship with 
 him, and, as will be seen later, when she returned to England as Sir 
 William Hamilton’s wife, she took her husband to Romney’s Studio, 
 rejoicing the melancholy painter with the warmth of her greeting, 
 and giving him a spell of new life and hope as she became once 
 again the inspiration of his genius. 
 
 37 
 
Emma , Lady Hamilton. 
 
 Chapter III. 
 
 IT has been seen from Greville’s letters, previously quoted, that 
 Emma led a quiet and, with the exception of her visits to Romney, 
 an uneventful life during her residence in Edgeware Road, but she was 
 contented and happy. For the first time in her life she was in love, 
 and her heart was filled with the sweetness of domesticity. Greville, 
 the man of culture, the elegant connoisseur, and amiable moralist, 
 seemed to her “the very best of men,” as she was afterwards to seem 
 in Nelson’s eyes “the most perfect of her sex.” It is quite clear from 
 her behaviour and her letters at this time that she had a sincere 
 and ardent affection for him. She was miserable when by any little 
 fault she had displeased him, and happy beyond words when he 
 praised her diligence, her good conduct, or her beauty. High 
 spirited as she was, and “ though,” as she said, “ my little temper 
 may have been sometimes high,” she received his reproofs 
 with wonderful docility, and craved for no other companionship so 
 long as he was by her side. Never was she so melancholy and 
 dejected as when she was parted from him, even for a short time. 
 
 “Pray, my dear Greville,” she wrote in the June of 1784, when 
 she was off to a seaside place in Cheshire to pick up in health, 
 “ Do let me come home as soon as you can, for I am almost broken- 
 hearted being from you ; indeed I have no pleasure nor 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 let me stay 
 long. . . . Indead, my dear Greville, you don’t know how much 
 
 I love you, and your behaviour to me even when we parted was so 
 kind. Greville, I don’t know what to do, but I will make you 
 
 38 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 amends by my kind behaviour to you, for I have gratitude, and will 
 show it you all as I can : so don’t think of my faults, Greville, think 
 of all my good, and blot out all my bad, for it is all gone and buried, 
 never to come again. So good-bye, my dear Greville, think of 
 nobody but me, for I have not a thought but for you ; and praying 
 for you and for us to meet again. God bless you, and believe me — 
 Yours truly and affectionately, 
 
 Emma Hart.” 
 
 In the same month she sent another letter to her protector, full 
 of the same warm sentiments and simple promises of good 
 behaviour, if only she might go home to him soon. 
 
 “My ever dear Greville,” she wrote, “how teadious does the 
 time pass awhay till I hear from you ; I think it ages since I saw 
 you, and years since I heard from you ; indead, I should be 
 miserable if I did not recollect on what happy terms we parted, 
 parted to meet again with tenfold happiness. O Greville, when 
 I think of your goodness, your tender kindness, my heart is full of 
 gratitude, that I want words to express it. But I have one happi- 
 ness in view which I am determined to practise, and that is 
 evenness of temper and steadiness of mind, for indead, I have 
 thought so much of your amiable goodness when you have been 
 tried to the utmost, that I will, indead I will, manage myself, and 
 try to be like Greville. Indead, 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 different. But 
 it does not matter, there is nothing like Buying expearance ; I may 
 be happyer for it hereafter, and I will think of the time coming and 
 not of the time past, except to make comparasons to show you 
 what alteration there is for the best, so, my dearest Greville, don’t 
 think on my past follies, think of my good, little as it has been, and 
 I will make you amends by my kind behaviour.” 
 
 Reading between the lines of these letters, one may not only see 
 
 39 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 the very real love of the girl for the man whom she regarded as of 
 infinite superiority to herself, but also, perhaps, a hidden anxiety 
 that he might have grown tired of her, and wished to release 
 himself from his responsibility for protecting her. Perhaps she had 
 already seen signs in him of a certain restlessness and coldness, and 
 he may have thrown out vague but alarming hints that their 
 relationship could not last for ever. His ambitions had been 
 stirred by the prospect of obtaining the office of Vice-Chamberlain, 
 and it is likely that candid friends had warned him of the possible 
 danger to the brilliant promise of his future if he kept up his now 
 well-known liason with the beautiful Emma. Then, too, the expense 
 of the menage in Edgeware Road was somewhat of a drain upon his 
 very moderate income, and, being a man in whom prudence was 
 never enslaved by passion, he was already considering the advis- 
 ability of terminating a social tie which had been very pleasant for a 
 time, but which was beginning to be a little irksome and embarrass- 
 ing. Emma was now a woman of some experience in the ways of 
 the world, and she also had a highly sensitive nature, which would 
 warn her of the slightest change in the temper of her admirer. She 
 might well have been a little panic-stricken therefore at the thought 
 of losing her hold upon Greville’s affection and patience. The 
 Honourable Charles Greville, however, was a man who moved 
 slowly and circumspectly. His own sense of dignity would not 
 allow him to break with Emma in so violent and vulgar a manner 
 as the fox-hunting squire, who had been his predecessor. For a 
 time she was lulled into a sense of security, and Greville still 
 treated her with “ amiable goodness.” 
 
 The quiet routine of the little household had been interrupted 
 by the visit of Sir William Hamilton to England in 1784, and 
 Emma was excited and flattered by the homage paid to her by 
 the distinguished uncle of her “ ever dear Greville.” The poor 
 girl’s alarms would have been increased an hundred-fold had she 
 
 40 
 
LADY HAMILTON AS “ THE AMBASSADRESS.” 
 
 ENGRAVED BY T. G. APPLETON, AFTER GEORGE ROMNEY. 
 From the picture in the possession of Sir Robert Harvey , Dart. 
 
 By permission of Messrs. Henry Graves & Sons. 
 

A Biographical Essay. 
 
 overheard the conversation of those two connoisseurs when they 
 sat over their port wine, after she had left them to their tete- 
 a-tete, on the evenings when the Ambassador honoured his nephew 
 with a visit. But she had no fear of Sir William. He seemed 
 old enough to be her father — a suggestion which angered Greville 
 when she spoke her candid thoughts — and he had an easy and 
 affable manner with her which made them the best of friends. His 
 open admiration of her beauty did not startle her. She was accus- 
 tomed to being judged like a piece of classical sculpture by Greville 
 and -his friends, and it did not displease her, for she had no false 
 modesty concerning her looks. Sir William called her “ the fair 
 tea-maker of Edgeware Road,” and she retorted by calling him 
 “ Pliny the Elder,” a nickname which he had conferred upon 
 himself in a bantering allusion to the ancient philosopher, who, 
 like himself, was the author of learned books, who, like himself, 
 had lived in Italy, and, like himself again, had a nephew — Pliny 
 the younger — who was his friend and heir. The only difference 
 was that Pliny the Elder had died at the age of fifty-six, while 
 Sir William, who was already fifty-five, hoped to live much longer. 
 So, between “ Pliny ” and “ the fair tea-maker ” there was a bonne 
 camaraderie , and when Emma went away for the seaside holiday 
 already mentioned, she sent him affectionate messages. “Tell 
 him,” she wrote in one of these letters, that “ next to you, I 
 love him above anybody, and that I wish I was with him to give 
 him a kiss. Don’t be affronted, Greville. If I was with you, I 
 would give you a thousand, and you might take as many as you 
 pleased, for I long — I mean I long to see you.” 
 
 During that seaside “ holiday,” which was a time of exile to 
 Emma, she had been comforted by having “little Emily” by her 
 side, and by paying a flying visit to old grandmother Kidd. Greville 
 was willing to provide for her child’s education at a good prepara- 
 tory school, and it was by his wish that she had fetched her from 
 
 41 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 Hawarden and taken her to the seaside, to which Emma herself 
 had been ordered bv the doctor for the cure of a skin trouble. 
 
 J 
 
 before bringing the little one to London. With her usual generosity 
 and warm-heartedness towards her relatives, Emma gave Dame 
 Kidd five guineas in return for some small sums of money she 
 had spent on the child’s dress. “ My dear Greville, don’t be 
 angry,” she wrote in connection with this payment, “ I would not 
 take her money shabbily. But Emma shall pay you.” The com- 
 panionship of her child, who had grown into a “ romp,” and 
 outgrown all her clothes so that the mother was kept busy “making 
 and mending,” was a great source of joy to Emma, though of 
 some anxiety too, because “ she is as wild and as thoughtless as 
 somebody when she was a little girl ; so you may guess how 
 that is.” She tells Greville simole little anecdotes which reveal 
 
 i. 
 
 her in a new and touching character. “ Would you believe,” she 
 says, “ on Saturday we had a little quarrel. I mean Emma and 
 me ; 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 . . . 
 Oh Greville, you don’t know how 1 love her, endead I do. When 
 she comes and looks in my face and calls me “mother,” endead 
 I then truly am a mother ; for all the mother’s feelings rise at 
 once and tells me I am, and ought to be, a mother. For she 
 has a wright to my protection, and she shall have it as long as 
 I can, and I will do all I can to prevent her falling into the 
 error her once poor miserable mother fell into.” 
 
 Greville was slow in answering this series of love-letters, and the 
 cold doubts that had come into the girl’s heart caused her intense 
 anguish and anxiety. “ Can you. my dear Greville,” she cried to 
 him, “ — no, you can’t — have forgot your poor Emma already. Tho’ 
 I am but a few weeks absent from you, my heart will not one 
 moment leave you. I am always thinking of you, and could almost 
 fancy I hear you and see you ; and think Greville what a disappoint- 
 
 42 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 ment when I find myself deceived, and ever nor never heard from 
 you. But my heart won’t lett me scold you. Endead it thinks on 
 you with too much tenderness. So do wright, my dear Greville. 
 Don’t you remember how you promised ? Don’t you recollect what 
 you said at parting ? — how you should be happy to see me again ? 
 O Greville, think on me with kindness ! Think how many happy 
 days, weeks and years — I hope — we may yet pass. And think out 
 of some that is past there as been some little pleasure as well as 
 pain ; and, endead, did you but know how much I love you, you 
 would freily forgive me any past quarels, for I now suffer for them, 
 and one line from you would make me happy.” Fortunately for her 
 peace of mind a letter at last arrived from Mr. Greville, and by its 
 more than usually affectionate tone dispelled the horrid doubts upon 
 which she had been brooding. Upon her return to London, 
 however, where little Emily was placed in a good boarding school, 
 she came back to a lonely house, for Greville was making a round 
 of social visits, and Sir William was also renewing his old friend- 
 ships in various parts of England. Emma still pined for her 
 protector, and her spirits were still further depressed by a severe 
 attack of measles which caused her much suffering and feverish- 
 ness. She had been nine weeks, altogether, without seeing 
 Greville, and the separation was almost more than she could bear. 
 The news of his home-coming was an inexpressible relief, and she 
 hastened to tell him of the joy it gave her : “ I think I shall die with 
 the pleasure of seeing you,” she wrote. “ Indead, my dearest 
 Greville, if you knew how much I think of you, you would love me 
 for it, for I am always thinking of you and of your goodness. In 
 short, Greville, I truly love you, and the thought of your coming 
 home so soon makes me so happy. I don’t know what to do.” 
 When Greville did come home, followed by Sir William Hamilton, 
 who renewed his frequent visits, she found her guardian in an 
 affectionate but serious frame of mind. He complained of his 
 
 43 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 increasing poverty. His financial investments had not been 
 successful of late, he said, and he was becoming seriously 
 embarrassed. Perhaps he had been rash in setting up the house in 
 Edgeware Road without sufficiently calculating the expense that it 
 would entail upon his limited income. Much as he loved his Emma, 
 it would be a real grief to him if he had to deprive her of any of the 
 advantages which it had been his pleasure to give her in the way 
 of singing and piano masters, of which her musical talents were so 
 fully worthy. What was to be done ? He must certainly cut down 
 his expenditure, or ruin would stare him in the face. 
 
 Emma was distressed and dismayed. She had no idea that he 
 was so straitened in means, and it grieved her to think that she 
 might be one of the causes of his pecuniary anxiety. She consulted 
 her “ dear Sir William,” and that excellent and distinguished man 
 listened with the utmost sympathy. It was true enough that poor 
 Charles was in debt, and that he would have to revise his mode of 
 life. It had caused Sir William himself some anxious thoughts, 
 after his dear nephew had unburdened himself of his cares. A 
 little plan occurred to him— could not Emma and Mrs. Cadogan 
 accept his hospitality for a while in Italy ? He would be delighted 
 to have them. A lonely old bachelor like himself wanted some 
 amiable female society to bring a little sunshine into his household. 
 Then, too, it would be an excellent opportunity for Emma to 
 complete her musical education. Her voice was much too good to 
 leave untrained, or with such very mediocre training as she could 
 get in England. If she would stay with him in Naples for a time it 
 would be his delight to provide her with the most capable Italian 
 professors — the best in the world — and little the knowing how 
 famous she would become when her voice had received proper care. 
 As soon as Charles could leave his parliamentary duties he could 
 join them in Italy, where he would be able to live much more 
 cheaply than in England, and there they would be a happy family 
 
 44 
 
LADY HAMILTON AS “ CIRCE.” BY ROMNEY. 
 
 From the original painting. 
 
 By kind permission of the owner , The Hon. H. C. Gibbs, M.A. 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 party, the leaders of English society in Naples, and the honoured 
 friends of the King and Queen of the two Sicilies who would 
 welcome Greville and his fair lady as much for their own sake as 
 for his — the British Ambassador’s. 
 
 It was a beautiful plan. Emma herself was pleased and flattered 
 with the idea, and when she broached it to Greville he professed his 
 gratitude to his dear uncle for so kind and excellent a scheme. 
 Emma little knew of the bargain that had been struck between the 
 uncle and nephew on the eve of Sir William Hamilton’s departure 
 for Naples, and did not guess the real reasons underlying the 
 proposed arrangement. The fact was that Greville had seen how 
 enamoured his uncle was of “ the fair tea-maker of Edgeware 
 Road,” and the idea quickly came to him that here was an excellent 
 opportunity of ridding himself of a girl who, as he now recognised, 
 stood in the way of his ambitions. He was secretly contemplating 
 a marriage with a young heiress whose dowry and distinguished 
 connections would place him upon a higher rung of the political and 
 social ladder. Secondly, he hoped to be his uncle’s heir, and to 
 ensure this it was necessary to prevent Sir William, who was still 
 in the prime of life, from entering into a legal marriage. If he 
 “ bought love ready made,” as a clerical relation had suggested to 
 him, with a very un-clerical sense of morality, that would be an 
 excellent safeguard of Greville’s interests. Lastly, if Sir William 
 coveted the fair Emma he would, no doubt, be prepared to pay a 
 good price for the privilege of taking her off his nephew’s hands. 
 These were the cards which Greville played with the astuteness 
 and, no doubt, with the fine gentlemanly restraint which always 
 characterised his behaviour. Probably there was a good deal of 
 fencing and subtle bargaining between the two men of fashion. It 
 is improbable that Emma was bought and sold with plain words and at 
 plain figures. There were fine moral sentiments, and the cultured 
 language of the connoisseur, as well as vague, tentative suggestions, 
 
 45 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 delicate hints, and much verbal ingenuity to smother up a trans- 
 action. But though the words of the bargain were, no doubt, 
 subtle and ambiguous, the facts were staring enough. Sir William 
 Hamilton drew up a new will in favour of his nephew, and provided 
 securities for the payment of his debts, in return for which it was 
 arranged that shortly after the Ambassador’s return to Naples 
 Emma “Hart” should be sent on to him, Greville cancelling all 
 claims upon her for ever. 
 
 It was a clever piece of scoundrelism. The victim went gladly 
 into the trap, or at least without suspicion, and Greville’s “ sensitive 
 temperament ” was saved from distressing scenes, such as would 
 have been inevitable had he abandoned Emma in England. Once in 
 Italy, she would at least be unable to torture his nerves by 
 hysterical reproaches and violent despair. Reproaches by corre- 
 spondence are not so annoying. Then, too, it would have been 
 awkward in another way to cast her off in London. She had 
 friends who were also his friends. Romney might ' have talked, 
 Greville’s reputation would have suffered. But now the blame 
 would fall rather upon her shoulders than his. The world would 
 think that she had left him willingly to become the mistress of 
 a British Ambassador. So Greville was justified in feeling as self- 
 complacent as ever, and as he smiled into his port wine he had a 
 right to flatter himself on his master-stroke of diplomacy. 
 
 The plan worked without a hitch. Emma was sad at parting, but 
 not hysterical. At the cost of a few lies he persuaded her that he 
 would soon rejoin her, and, with the feeling that she was sacrificing 
 her own happiness for a time to ease his monetary difficulties, she 
 stifled her vague sense of alarm, and, with her devoted mother, set 
 out early in the year of 1786, under the escort of Mr. Gavin 
 Hamilton, the painter — one of Sir William’s kinsmen — for the city 
 of Naples, which they reached on her birthday, April 26th of that 
 year. 
 
 46 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 Sir William’s reception of Emma Hart at once opened her eyes 
 to the peril of her situation, and filled her with a sense of alarm. 
 The Ambassador “ did nothing but look at her and sigh.” He was 
 very kind and very generous, but perhaps — no, she would not 
 accuse him of any improper feeling towards her — and she would tell 
 Greville exactly of the way he treated her, and, while expressing 
 her gratitude, hint in very guarded terms of the danger she was in. 
 Surely, surely, Greville meant to keep his promise. He could not 
 forget the love that had been between them, nor be so base as to 
 abandon her to a horrible fate. 
 
 Her first letter to Greville shows the torture and bewilderment 
 of her mind. She tries to make the best of everything, to interpret 
 Sir William’s behaviour and generosity in a high-minded way, but 
 she cannot help revealing some of the panic in her heart, and 
 hinting at horrid doubts, which might be only the products of 
 a disordered imagination. It was a letter that should have struck 
 even the Honourable Charles Greville with a sense of pity and 
 shame. 
 
 “ My dearest Greville,” she wrote on the 30th of April, 1786, 
 “ I arrived at this place on the 26th, and I should have begun 
 to write sooner, but the post does not go until to-morrow, and 
 I dreaded setting down to write, for I try to apear as cheerful 
 before Sir William as I could, and I am sure to cry the moment 
 I think of it. 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 to the end of the summer. For to live without you is 
 impossible. I love you to that degree that at this time there is 
 not a hardship upon hearth, either of poverty, hunger, cold, death, 
 or even to walk barefooted to Scotland to see you, but what I 
 would undergo. Therefore, my 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 
 
 47 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 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 happy. It is you that as it in your power to make me 
 very happy or very miserable. I respect Sir William, I have a very 
 great regard for him, as the uncle and friend of you, Greville. 
 But he can never he anything nearer to me than your uncle and my sincere 
 friend. He can never be my lover. 
 
 “ You do not know how good Sir William is to me. He is 
 doing everything he can to make me happy. He as never dined 
 out since I came hear ; and endead, to speak the truth, he is never 
 out of my sight. He breakfasts, dines, supes, and is constantly by 
 me, looking in my face. I can’t stir a hand, leg or foot but he is 
 marking [it] as graceful and fine ; and, I am sorry to say it, he 
 loves me now as much as ever he could Lady Bolingbroke. 
 Endead I am sorry, for I cannot make him happy. I can be 
 civil oblidging, and I do try to make myself as agreeable as I 
 can to him, but I belong to you, Greville, and to you only I 
 will belong, and nobody shall be your heir-apearant. You do not 
 know how glad I was to arrive here the day I did. 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 should be at such a distance from you! But my 
 comfort is 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 Greville ! But I must wait with patience. We 
 have had company most every day since I came, some of Sir 
 William’s friends. They are all very much pleased with me ; and 
 poor Sir William is never so happy as when he is pointing out my 
 beauties to them. He does nothing all day but look at me and 
 sigh . . . you are to understand I have a carridge of Sir Williams, 
 a English one, painting and new liverys, and new coachman and 
 
 48 
 
UNFINISHED SKETCH OF LADY HAMILTON. 
 
 (In the British Museum). 
 
 BY LAWRENCE. 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 footman, &c. — the same as Mrs. Darner had of her own, for she did 
 not go with is. For if I was going about in is carridge, they would 
 say I was either his wife or his mistress. Therefore, as I am not, 
 nor ever can be either, we have made a very good establishment. 
 I have a very good apartment of 4 rooms, very pleasant, looking to 
 the sea. Our boat comes out to-day for the first time, and we are 
 going for a day or two to Caserta. I was at Paysilipe yesterday. 
 I think it a very pretty place. 
 
 “ Sir William as give me a camlet shawl, like my old one. I know 
 you will be pleased to hear that, and he as given me a beautiful 
 gown, cost 25 guineas (India painting on wite sattin) and several 
 little things of Lady Hamilton’s, and is going to by me some muslin 
 dresses loose, to tye with a sash for the hot weather — made like 
 the turkey dresses, the sleeves tyed in fowlds with ribban and trimd 
 with lace. In short, he is always contriving what he shall get for me. 
 The people admire my English dresses. But the blue hat, Greville, 
 pleases most. Sir William is quite inchanted with it. Oh, how 
 he loves you ! He told me he had made is will, and left you every- 
 thing belonging to him. That made me very happy for your sake. 
 Pray, my dear Greville, do write me word if you want any money. 
 I am affraid I distressed you. But I am sure Sir William will send 
 you some, and I told him he must help you a little now and send 
 you some for your jurney hear, and he kissed me, and the tears 
 came into is eyes, and he told me I might command anything, for 
 he loved us both dearly; and Oh ! how [happy] I shall be when I 
 can once more see you, my dear, dear Greville. You are everything 
 that is dear to me on hearth, and I hope happier times will soon 
 restore you to me, for endead I would rather be with you starving, 
 than from you in the greatest splendor in the world. 
 
 “ I have only to say I enclose this I wrote yesterday, and I will 
 not venture myself now to wright any more, for my mind and heart 
 are torn by different passions that I shall go mad. Only Greville, 
 
 49 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 remember your promise of October. Sir William says you never 
 mentioned to him about coming to Naples at all. But you know 
 the consequences of your not coming for me. Endead, my dear 
 Greville, I live but in the hope of seeing you, and if you do not come 
 hear, lett what will be the consequence, I will come to England. I 
 have had a conversation this morning with Sir William that has made me 
 mad. He speaks — no, I do not know what to make of it. But 
 Greville, my dear Greville, wright some comfort to me. But only 
 remember you will never be loved by anybody like 
 
 Your affectionate and sincere 
 
 Emma.” 
 
 P.S. — Pray, for God’s sake, wright to me and come to me, for 
 Sir William shall not be anything to me but your friend.” 
 
 To this passionate and pleading letter, appealing to his sense of 
 honour, as well as to his affections, Greville made no reply. He had 
 entered into his bargain with Sir William in a cold and calculating 
 spirit, selling a woman’s body and heart with as little compunction 
 as he would have sold one of his Greek statues, and with precisely 
 the same mercenary motives, and he was not to be moved by this 
 or the fourteen other letters which reached him at short intervals 
 from his despairing victim. As the weeks went by and she received 
 no answer, the full revelation of his treachery came upon her. She 
 knew herself to be abandoned. He had lied to her when he parted 
 with kisses and promises to rejoin her soon. In making the 
 arrangement for her to go to Italy with Sir William Hamilton, he 
 had known all along that his uncle coveted her not as a guest but 
 as a mistress. He had passed her over to his uncle as though she 
 were no better than a low and vicious creature, who would as will- 
 ingly live with one man as another, and yet he had loved her ! She 
 could be sure of that. The memory of the thousand kind words he 
 had spoken to her, of the years when she had lived with him as his 
 wife in everything but name, of the little quarrels she had had with 
 
 30 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 him, and which he had forgiven, of his lectures on propriety and good 
 behaviour, which she had tried so hard to model herself upon, of the 
 quiet domestic happiness they had had together, he teaching, and 
 she learning, he praising, and she so pleased and grateful for his 
 praise, came back to her vividly and ineffacably, drowning her very 
 passion and burning indignation in a flood of grief. She loved him still. 
 Base and treacherous though he had been, he was the husband of her 
 body and soul, and she would pardon him everything, and give him 
 the same loyal love, if he would only take her back. She had written 
 in anger, perhaps she had said bitter things in her despair, perhaps 
 her reproaches had been too hysterical and violent, perhaps her 
 pleadings had not been humble enough or passionate enough in 
 those series of letters — fourteen in all, which had come from her torn 
 and bleeding heart. Oh, if she could but move him to pity, and 
 awaken in him some of those old kindly sentiments which he had 
 sincerely felt towards her. Perhaps, though fourteen letters had 
 failed, the fifteenth would work the miracle of turning back to flesh 
 and blood a heart that had been changed to stone. So once more, in 
 July of the same year, she sat down with blinding tears to appeal for 
 the last time to her “ ever dearest Greville,” as she still called him. 
 “ I am now only writing,” she said, “ to beg of you for God’s sake 
 to send me one letter, if it is only a farewell. Sure, I have deserved 
 this, for the sake of the love you once had for me. Think, Greville, 
 of our former connexion, and don’t despise me. I have not used 
 you ill in any one thing. I have been from you going for 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 would not be intirely shut up against; 
 for I love you with the truest affection. Don’t lett anybody sett 
 you against me. Some of your friends — your foes, perhaps, I don’t 
 
 51 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 know what to stile them — have long wisht me ill. But, Greville, 
 you never will meet with anybody that has a truer affection for you 
 than I have, and I only wish it was in my power to show you what 
 I could 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 your promise, I shall be in England at 
 Christmas at furthest. Don’t be unhappy at that ; I will see you 
 once more, for the last time. I find life is unsuportable without 
 you. Oh ! my heart is entirely broke. Then, for God’s sake, my 
 ever dear Greville, do write 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, music, etc., but what is 
 it for ? If it was to amuse you I should be happy. But Greville, 
 what will it avail me ? 1 am poor, helpless, and forlorn. 1 have 
 
 lived with you five years, and you have sent me to a strange place, 
 and no one prospect but thinking you was coming to me. Enstead 
 of which I was told to live, you know how, with Sir William. No, 
 I respect him, but no, never shall he peraps live with me for a little 
 while, like you, and send me to England. Then what am I to do ? 
 What is to become of me ? But excuse me, my heart is full. I tell 
 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 and preserve you, and may 
 you always be happy ! ” 
 
 This letter crossed with one of Greville’s, and Emma received 
 the long delayed message with rapturous delight, envying the very 
 wafer with which he had sealed it by the moisture of his lips. 
 “She would give two worlds, had she them, to kiss those lips !” 
 Thus she began her answer with words of tenderness and pretty 
 sentiment, to the man who had been her lover, who, as he 
 read them, must have been startled at the gust of passion 
 and indignation that followed. In his letter, he had put off his 
 
 * 
 
 52 
 
LADY HAMILTON IN MORNING DRESS. BY GEO. ROMNEY. 
 From the Original Painting. 
 
 By permission, from Messrs. Agncw's New I Vorl< on Romney. 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 mask altogether, and, in plain words, had urged her to live with 
 his uncle. In words too plain to be fully quoted, she scorned 
 his counsel, and it is to be hoped they burnt into his brain, 
 shaking him out of that self-complacency beneath which his 
 better nature was stifled. 
 
 “ As to what you write to me to oblidge Sir William, I will 
 not answer you. For oh, if you knew what pain I feel in reading 
 those lines. You advise me to . . . Nothing can express my 
 rage ! I am all madness ! Greville to advise me ! — you that used 
 to envy my smiles ! Now with cool indifference to advise me 
 thus. Oh that, worst of all ! But I will not, no, I will not rage. 
 If I was with you, I would murder you, and myself too. Nothing 
 shall ever do for me but going home to you. If that is not to 
 be, I will except nothing. I will go to London, their go into 
 every excess of vice tell I dye. My fate is a warning to young 
 whomen never to be two good. For now you have made me 
 love you, you have made me good ; you have abandoned 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 everything in my power — and what will you have 
 more ? and I only say this for the last time. I will neither beg 
 nor pray. Do as you like.” 
 
 Then in a postcript she wrote a threat which may have moved 
 Greville more than all her pleading ; for if she fulfilled it, one 
 part of his scheme— that he should be the sole heir to Sir William 
 Hamilton’s fortune — might be seriously endangered. 
 
 “ It is not your interest to disoblige me,” she wrote, “ for you 
 don’t know the power I have hear. Only I will never be his 
 mistress. If you affront me , I will make him marry me." 
 
 That postcript must have caused the ordinarily calm brow of 
 Mr. Charles Greville to pucker with an anxious wrinkle. As a 
 
 53 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton 
 
 man of the world, and with much experience of women’s hearts, 
 he no doubt calculated that he had only to bide his time, and 
 Emma would be forced by the irresistible power of circumstance 
 to accept the protection of Sir William Hamilton. Though now, 
 in the first throes of her passionate revolt against her abandonment, 
 she vowed that she would embrace poverty and misery rather 
 than be anything more than a friend to her amorous Ambassador, 
 there would come the inevitable reaction, when Greville’s absolute 
 decision would become plain to her, and unless she had the courage 
 of martyrdom, which he much doubted, she would be bound in the 
 end to succumb to the temptations of ease and comfort, and all the 
 glamour of social success, under the patronage of Sir William 
 Hamilton. That was a result upon which he could have no doubt, 
 unless all his experience had been for nothing. But what about 
 her threat of marriage ? In his heart he may have known that that 
 also was not the least improbable of things, for Emma had 
 awakened at last to the knowledge of her power. She knew now 
 that her beauty could cast a spell over men, and that if she used her 
 rare charms for her own ends, she might be the queen instead 
 of the beggar-maid, and rule rather than obey. 
 
 If in Greville’s study of this problem his logic led him to that 
 solution, he was not in error. Before the year was out in which 
 she had fiercely protested that “ Sir William shall not be anything 
 to me but your friend,” Emma was the recognised mistress of the 
 British Ambassador, and she looked forward with a quiet confidence 
 to the day when he would make her his wife. She had turned down 
 one more page in her life, and had begun a new chapter in which 
 Greville had no part. 
 
 54 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 Chapter IV. 
 
 S IR WILLIAM HAMILTON was not a man of heroic cast. In his 
 younger days he had been as easy in his morals as a gentleman 
 of the Eighteenth Century might be without shocking the 
 prejudices of his age, and at fifty-seven he was still a man of 
 gallantry, not yet past the emotion of “ the grand passion.” But in 
 many ways his character was not unadmirable. He was a man of 
 kindly sentiment, with a considerable strain of generosity. Indeed, 
 according to the code of his time, he had a nice sense of honour as 
 regards his public duties, faithfully serving the interests of his 
 country as Ambassador to the Court of Naples ; and, apart from 
 the scandalous way in which he had brought Emma Hart to Italy 
 under false pretences — the blame of which lies much more heavily 
 upon Greville than upon himself — it must be admitted that in his 
 private relations with her he showed more than a touch of chivalry 
 and unselfishness. While she still held out against his proposals, he 
 offered to settle £100 a year upon her for life, whether she decided 
 to leave him, or live with him, and as soon as she yielded {'to his 
 persuasions, he did everything in his power to secure her happiness 
 and comfort. There is no disguising that he did so at considerable 
 risk to himself. In bringing forward the beautiful Emma in the 
 most prominent and public way as the mistress of his heart and 
 household, he might, and did offend an influential section of 
 the English colony in Sicily, who, for a time at least, did their 
 best to obtain his recall from the position of Ambassador. The 
 Queen of Naples, although reigning over a Court not noted for its 
 scrupulous morality, refused to give entree to a lady who had no 
 
 55 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 legitimate right to her Royal favour, and this in itself created an 
 awkward and difficult situation for Sir William Hamilton. It is 
 certainly a compliment to his courage, as well as to his tact, that he 
 was able to protect Emma from insult, and to gain for her, so 
 speedily, a high position in Neapolitan society, in spite of these 
 difficulties and hostilities. But, having said this, one must 
 acknowledge that it was Emma herself who carried off the 
 honours of his social campaign, and it was due chiefly to her 
 extraordinary charm of beauty and character that she was not 
 only tolerated, but in time idolized by the Neapolitans and English 
 alike. Her amazing loveliness — for never had her beauty been 
 more perfect than now — disarmed and captivated the men. That 
 was but natural, and they would have given her their easy homage 
 had she been a very scarlet woman. But what was more remark- 
 able, she gradually bewitched the women by her unfailing good 
 nature, simplicity, and unaffectedness. They, and the men too, 
 soon recognised that she was not only a beautiful woman, but 
 whatever might be her legal or illegal position regarding Sir 
 William Hamilton, that she was a really good woman. If she had 
 been very frail as well as very fair, there is no knowing what might 
 have happened at a Court where the princes and nobles were all 
 too inflammable at the sight of a pretty face. But “ Mrs. Hart,” 
 as she was called, was the very model of propriety and discretion. 
 Within a few weeks of her landing she had a crowd of would-be 
 lovers sighing around her, and whispering amorous conceits. A 
 Prince followed her about wherever she might go, brought her 
 flowers, carried her shawl, took her to the bath-house and waited 
 till she pleased to come away, like a faithful watch-dog ; bowed low 
 over her hands, and implored her with his eyes, and generally 
 behaved like an ecstatic Romeo. And Mrs. Hart suffered him 
 gladly, liking love and homage, but she let him know very clearly 
 and very decisively that she had only one heart, and that was for 
 
 56 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 Sir William Hamilton. The Neapolitan nobles, she said, were “ as 
 proud as the devil. But she humbled them.” One, more audacious 
 in his flattery, asked how many lovers she had in Naples, but this 
 was going a little too far, so she “ pulled her lip at him,” and said, 
 “ Do you take me to be an Italian woman who has four or five 
 different men to attend her ? Sir, I am English. I have one 
 cavalier-servant, and I have brought him with me ” — pointing to 
 Sir William. That reduced the amorous nobleman to silence, and 
 after this rebuke he could only murmur that she was “ una donna 
 rara." 
 
 The King of Naples himself was soon fascinated by her beauty, 
 and although the Queen could not receive her formally at Court, 
 His Majesty made up for this social disadvantage by flattering 
 attentions whenever he met her in Sir William’s company. On 
 one occasion when she was in a boat, the King came sailing past 
 with an orchestra on board his little vessel, and perceiving the 
 Ambassador’s lady, ordered his men to go close to her, and to play 
 their music. “ He took off his hatt, and sett with his hatt on his 
 knees all the while, and when he was going to land he made his 
 bow, and said it was a sin he could not speak English. But I have 
 him in my train every night at the villa or opera.” 
 
 It was not only the nobility who worshipped at the feet of Emma; 
 the peasants and the servants were bewitched by her. In her 
 simple white dress, with a blue sash, she seemed to them 
 miraculously like the Madonna as she was painted in their 
 churches, and at a little Italian village, through which Emma 
 passed on a pleasure trip with Sir William, the country people fell 
 down on their knees before her, asking favours from her in the 
 name of the Blessed Virgin in whose likeness the good God had 
 made her. Even the priests were struck with this similitude, and 
 when two of them came to visit Sir William, he made her put 
 a shawl over her head and pose in an attitude of religious adoration. 
 
 57 
 
Emma., Lady Hamilton. 
 
 The priests were exceedingly moved — one of them, with tears 
 in his eyes, said “ God had sent her for a purpose.” Emma herself 
 was much touched by a visit she paid to a convent of sixty nuns. 
 They received her with the most charming kindness and reverence, 
 as if Emma were some beautiful saint who had come to shed 
 her radiance on their house. The Lady Superior was quite a 
 young woman, only twenty-nine years of age, and Emma was 
 “quite charmed” with Beatrice Acquaviva, as she was called. Sir 
 William was away at the time, so Emma wrote to him a pretty 
 description of the fair nun, and of the scene at the convent. 
 
 “She took the veil at twenty,” she says in this letter, “and 
 does not repent to this day. Though, if I am a judge of physiog- 
 omy, her eyes does not look like the eyes of a nun. They are 
 always laughing, and something in them vastly alluring, and I 
 wonder the men of Naples would suffer their only pretty whoman, 
 who is really pretty, to be shut in a convent. But it is like the 
 mean-spirited, ill taste of the Neapolitans . . . 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 wite dimity, and a blue sash. She admired my hat and fine 
 hair, and she said she had heard I was good to the poor, and 
 generous, and noble-minded. 1 Now,’ she says, ‘ it would be worth 
 wile to live for such a one as you. Your good heart would melt at 
 any trouble that befel one, and partake of one’s grief, or be 
 equaly pleased at one’s good fortune. But I never met with a 
 friend yet, or ever I saw a person I could love, tell now, and you 
 shall have proof of my love.’ In short, I sat and listened to her, 
 and the tears stood in my eyes ; I don’t know why. I thought 
 what a charming wife she would have made. What a mother of a 
 family ; what a friend, and the first good and amiable whoman 
 I have seen since I came to Naples, for to be lost to the world — 
 how cruel ! ” Beatrice Acquaviva thought she could read the beauty 
 
 58 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 of Emma’s heart in her countenance and complexion, and compared 
 he r figure and features with the marble statues she saw when 
 she was in the world. 
 
 “ I think she flatered me up,” said Emma naively, “ but I was 
 pleased.” 
 
 Sir William Hamilton was more than loyal to his promise to 
 give his mistress the best training for her voice that Italy could 
 offer, and what with singing and other lessons, sitting as a model 
 to the artists engaged by Sir William, and the daily round of social 
 gaieties, Emma’s time was fully occupied. The Ambassador’s 
 country house at Caserta, which he now had done up in the most 
 elegant way for her pleasure and comfort, was thronged with 
 painters and professors, sculptors and enamellers, who came in 
 the service of the famous beauty. Sir William had fitted up a 
 special painting room, where Emma posed for at least two hours 
 each day, and this studio was placed at the disposal of the 
 artists, who came flocking in from Rome to study from a living 
 form as perfect as any piece of classical sculpture. By August 
 of 1787, Sir William already possessed eleven portraits of her, 
 but he was never satisfied, and always wanted more. At the 
 same time, her head was being cut in stone for the cameo of 
 a ring, and she was being modelled in ware and clay. From the 
 studio she went to the music room, where Galvia, the great 
 master, was waiting to flatter, as well as to train her voice. 
 Afterwards she practised at the pianoforte with another dis- 
 tinguished professor, then read Italian with a reading master, 
 and studied drawing, which she found “ as easy as A.B.C.” In 
 the evening, Sir William Hamilton gave select parties at which 
 Emma presided as a kind of Queen of Beauty, flattered, praised 
 and applauded with as much enthusiasm and admiration as if 
 she were really a divinity who had come among the mortals. 
 Sir William only invited those people whom he could trust to 
 
 59 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 behave with respect to his household goddess, and no one received 
 a second invitation, of whatever rank he or she might be, if 
 “ Signora Hart” had any reason to complain of incivility. When 
 the Ambassador left her for some weeks, while he went on a 
 sporting expedition with the King of Naples, Emma kept open 
 house in exactly the same way as when he was with her, and with 
 his consent and wish extended her hospitality to all his English 
 and Neapolitan friends with as much freedom and authority as if 
 she were his wife as well as his mistress. 
 
 The Italian people, indeed, did not trouble themselves much, if at 
 all, about so fine a distinction. The marriage bond has always been 
 of a looser character in Italy than in our country. A legal or 
 religious ceremony seems to them rather the private concern of a 
 man and woman than anything to do with Society, and if two people 
 live together with every sign of affection and loyalty they are 
 generally regarded as models of propriety. Even the Church would 
 not frown very severely on such a union, and Emma Hart numbered 
 several distinguished clerics among her friends. One, a charming 
 and brilliant Abbe, was never tired of telling his friends “ how 
 beautifully and elegantly behaved in manners and conversation” 
 was their Ambassador’s lady. But the English residents and 
 visitors had also put their prejudices on one side when they 
 saw how perfectly decorous “Mrs. Hart” was in her behaviour, 
 and with what an excellent and charming dignity she presided 
 over her salon. Emma tells Sir William in one of her letters 
 how an English friend had confessed that “ when he first came 
 in I frightened him with a majesty and Juno look that I receeved 
 him with. Now he says that whent of on being more acquainted, 
 and I enchanted him with my politeness and the manner in 
 which I did the honours.” This same gentleman, a certain 
 Mr. Hart, was also enchanted with Emma’s voice, with which 
 she entertained her company. “ He said it was the most extra- 
 
 60 
 
LADY HAMILTON! READING THE GAZETTE. BY GEO. ROMNEY 
 From the original painting. 
 
 By permission, from Messrs. Agnew's new work on Romney. 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 ordinary thing he ever knew.” That, perhaps, was a somewhat 
 doubtful compliment. “ But what struck him most was holding on 
 the notes, and going from the high to the low notes so very neat.” 
 After this visit “ he went awhay with his head turned.” 
 
 Upon Sir William’s return to Caserta he gave a diplomatic 
 dinner, at which Emma scored a great triumph. There were sixty 
 guests present, among whom was “ the Banti,” the prima donna of 
 the opera, who was to assist at the concert arranged by Emma for 
 the entertainment of all these distinguished people. After the first 
 quartette the hostess was to sing the first song. At first she was 
 very nervous, for “the Banti” is a famous singer, and she placed 
 herself close to her. “ But when I began all fear went awhay, and I 
 sung so well that she cried out ‘ Just God, what a voice ! I would 
 give a great deal for your voice.’ In short, I met with such aplause 
 that it almost turned my head. Banti sung after me, and, I assure 
 you, everybody said I sung in a finer style than her. Poor Sir 
 William was so enraptured with me ! For he was afraid I should 
 have been in a great fright, and it was of consequence that evening, 
 for he wanted to shew me of to some Dutch officers that were 
 there, that is with a sixty-four gun and frigate.” 
 
 Upon the following day these officers gave a dinner on board to 
 Sir William and Emma, giving them a royal reception by manning 
 the yards, dressing the ships and firing a salute of twenty guns. 
 Emma presided at the table as “ mistress of the feast, drest all in 
 virgin white, and my hair, all in ringlets, reaching almost to my 
 feet.” The gallant sailors were so enamoured of their guest that 
 they would hardly let Sir William carry her away, and, at the last 
 moment, would have another bottle to drink to “ the lovliest woman 
 in the world.” In the evening they accompanied the Ambassador 
 and his lady to the opera, where it was gala night in honour of the 
 Spanish King’s birthday. “ I had the finest dress made up on 
 purpose,” writes Emma, “ as I had a box near the King and Queen. 
 
 61 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 My gown was purple satin, with white satin petticoat, trimmed with 
 crape and spangles. My cap lovely, from Paris, all white feathers.” 
 The Commodore of the Dutch frigate rode in Sir William’s carriage, 
 “ and the officers came next, and attended my box all the time, and 
 behaved to me as tho’ I was a queen.” 
 
 These social successes, gratifying as they were, hardly equalled 
 the triumphs which Emma achieved when she went on a tour with 
 Sir William Hamilton and a gay party to the “heel of the Italian 
 boot.” At all the towns in which she stayed she was received 
 with the flattering homage of the Italian nobility, who were 
 completely subjugated by her beauty and talents. Princes of the 
 Royal blood were proud to converse with her, and grandes dames, 
 like the Countess Mahoney, congratulated the Ambassador on the 
 possession of such a good and beautiful woman. Afterwards she was 
 even more deeply gratified by the warm friendship shown to her by 
 two great ladies from England, whose patronage did much to 
 break down any prejudice against her still existing in the minds 
 of English residents and visitors. These were Lady Elcho and 
 the Duchess of Argyll, the latter famous in her youth as “ the 
 beautiful Miss Gunning.” As the years passed, and it was seen 
 that Sir William Hamilton still had the utmost affection for the 
 mistress of his household, never being quite happy if he was out 
 of her presence, and rejoicing openly in her great beauty, her 
 many talents, and her intellectual powers, there were many people 
 who believed that Emma was really his wife, and that a secret 
 marriage had taken place at an early date in their relationship. 
 It was convenient for many of the English ladies who visited 
 Naples to spread these rumours, and pretend to believe them, 
 even if they did not do so with sincerity. It is quite an English 
 characteristic to assume that all is nice and proper if there are 
 any advantages to be gained from such assumption, and in this 
 case the hospitality of an Ambassador, and the piquant pleasure 
 
 62 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 of being acquainted with so famous a beauty, converted many 
 scandal-mongers to charity. Some of Sir William Hamilton’s most 
 intimate friends were bold enough to question him on the subject ; 
 and although he denied the rumours of marriage, he announced 
 his intention of making Emma his wife as soon as he could gain 
 the consent of the English king. There is no reason to doubt 
 that he had a very sincere love and respect for his mistress, 
 and, indeed, to the end of his life, his admiration for her never 
 waned. And, although it cannot be supposed that Emma loved 
 him with the same romantic passion which she had felt for 
 Greville, one may not disbelieve her own assurances that Sir 
 William’s generosity and tenderness towards her had inspired 
 her with the warmest sense of gratitude and affection. Her 
 letters to him, whenever he was away from her side, which was 
 not often, were full of endearing words, and wifely solicitude for 
 his health and comfort. When he fell ill for a time she nursed 
 him with the utmost devotion, and it was not, perhaps, an 
 exaggeration for her friends to say that she had saved his life. 
 For Greville she always cherished a tender sentiment that the 
 memory of his treachery could not efface, and she corresponded 
 with him frequently, keeping him well posted with the progress 
 of her career. But in these letters there was not, after she 
 had entered the household of the British Ambassador, a word 
 that showed disloyalty to Sir William, or an expression that 
 Greville could have interpreted as an avowal of his old dominion 
 over her. With great tact and womanly restraint she placed 
 him on the footing of an old friend, who had also the claim of 
 kinship with her protector ; but even the worst enemy of the 
 woman who became Lady Hamilton could never accuse her of 
 any impropriety in her tone towards Sir William’s nephew. 
 
 It was in 1791 that the Ambassador left Italy for a holiday, and 
 set out for London with his beloved Emma. He made no secret 
 
 63 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 of the fact that the chief object of his journey was to place her in 
 the full position of wifehood by a legal and religious ceremony of 
 marriage in England. To Emma these weeks must have been a 
 time of happiest exultation. At last the ambition of her life was to 
 be realised. In the old-fashioned phrase of the homely people from 
 whom she had sprung, she was to be made “ an honest woman.” 
 Never again would the dread horror of abandonment besiege her 
 soul. She was to have security of tenure in her love, and at the 
 Court of Naples she would be able to reign in Society not only as 
 the Queen of Beauty, but as the honoured wife of the British 
 Ambassador. In spite of her social successes she had not yet 
 obtained the personal friendship of the Queen of Naples, and there 
 were still ladies of the Court who followed the lead of their 
 mistress, and held aloof. Those disadvantages would now be 
 removed, and Emma was justified in dreaming of a brilliant future 
 in which her influence in the kingdom of the Two Sicilies would be 
 unbounded. In London, with all the excitement of receiving 
 presents and purchasing her wedding dress, Emma might have been 
 pardoned if she had given but little thought to the old friends 
 of her days of poverty. Perhaps, even, one could have under- 
 stood her feelings if she had deliberately broken with every, 
 thing and everyone that formed a connection with the time 
 when she was a humble and unclassed girl. But this was not 
 the case. One of her first pleasures was to seek out her old 
 admirer and devoted friend, George Romney, who for five years 
 had cherished her memory, and pined for her presence. At 
 this time he had fallen into a melancholy and morbid condition. 
 Ill-health and disappointment had almost ruined his inspiration, and 
 he was the victim of a settled gloom. But when Emma came to 
 him with Sir William, bright and beautiful as ever, overflowing with 
 tenderness and sympathy, the sun shone in the heavens again, and 
 the painter was filled with a new sense of life and inspiration. She 
 
 64 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 told him the news of her approaching marriage with tremulous 
 emotion and tears in her eyes, contrasting the difference in her 
 position to that in which she had last been to Romney’s rooms ; and 
 then she told him how much joy it would give her to sit as his 
 model whenever she could spare the time from her numerous 
 engagements, just in the same old way. 
 
 Romney sat down to tell all this delightful story to his friend 
 Hayley. “ At present,” he said, “ and the greatest part of the 
 summer, I shall be engaged in painting pictures from the divine 
 lady. I cannot give her any other epithet, for I think her superior 
 to all womankind. I have two pictures to paint of her for the 
 Prince of Wales. She says she must see you before she leaves 
 England, which will be in the beginning of September. She asked 
 me if you would not write my life — I told her you had begun it, — 
 then she said she hoped you would have much to say of her in the 
 life, as she prided herself in being my model. So you see I must be 
 in London till the time when she leaves town.” 
 
 About a fortnight later Romney wrote again to Hayley : 
 
 “ I dedicate my time to this charming lady ; there is a prospect 
 of her leaving town with Sir William for two or three weeks. They 
 are very much hurried at present, and everything is going on for 
 their speedy marriage, and all the world following her, and talking 
 of her, so that if she had not more good sense her brain must 
 be turned. 
 
 “ The pictures I have begun are Joan of Arc, a Magdalen, and a 
 Bacchante for the Prince of Wales ; and another I am to begin as a 
 companion to the Bacchante. I am also to paint a picture of 
 Constance for the Shakespeare Gallery.” 
 
 In poor Romney’s nervous condition he fancied that Emma had 
 been cold to him before setting out on a visit to the country house 
 of one of Sir William’s relatives, and he wrote Hayley a miserable 
 letter on the subject. Hayley, who seems to have been singularly 
 
 65 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 lacking in discretion, and not without some justice, has been called 
 Romney’s evil genius, commiserated with his friend in an absurd 
 poem, which only deepened the gloom of the neurotic painter. 
 Fortunately it was not of long duration, for Emma appeared at his 
 studio a few days later, and treated him with so much affection as 
 an old and revered friend, and was so eager to resume her sittings, 
 that there was no possible excuse for the idea of any “ coldness.” 
 
 “ When she arrived to sit she seemed more friendly than she 
 had been, and I began a picture of her as a present to her 
 mother. I was very successful with it, for it is thought the 
 most beautiful head I have painted over her yet.” With these 
 words and others, showing Emma’s cordiality to him, Romney 
 hastened to show Hayley that his poem need not have been 
 written after all. 
 
 So Emma at last became Lady Hamilton, as she had threatened 
 Greville she would, w T hen he abandoned her in what now seemed 
 the distant past. She was radiantly happy, and London Society 
 was excited and enchanted by the beauty and charm, the singing 
 and acting, of the British Ambassador’s wife. The director of 
 the opera offered her two thousand pounds a year, with a share 
 in the profits, if she would engage with him, but Sir William 
 made it the opportunity for a bon mot , and said, with a pleasant 
 smile, that he had engaged her for life. One little trouble alone 
 broke the happiness of this time in London. Queen Charlotte, 
 who had heard many rumours about her past life, refused to 
 receive her at Court. But otherwise, London had made much 
 fuss of her, and she left for Italy again with her husband, with 
 the good wishes and congratulations of all their friends. Her 
 reception in Naples as the wife of the Ambassador, and her own 
 state of mind, are best described in her own words as she wrote 
 them to Romney on one of the last days of the year 1791. 
 
 “ My dear friend,” she said, “ I have the pleasure to inform 
 
 66 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 you that we arrived safe at Naples. I have been receved 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 has shown 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 he will have no cause to repent what he has 
 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 know me enough. You was the first 
 dear friend I opened my heart to. You ought to know me, for 
 you have seen and discoursed with me in my poorer days. You 
 have known me in my poverty and prosperity, and I had no 
 occasion to have liv’d for years in poverty and distress if I 
 had not felt something of virtue in my mind. O, my dear friend, 
 for a time I own, through distress, my virtue was vanquish’d, 
 but my sense of virtue was not overcome. How gratefull now 
 then do I feel to my dear, dear husband, that as restored 
 peace to my mind, that as given me honor, 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 for a moment forget what 
 I was, I ought to suffer.” 
 
 Once more a new chapter in Emma’s life had begun, and, as 
 Lady Hamilton and the friend of Queen Caroline of Naples, she 
 reached a position that must have seemed a whole lifetime 
 removed from the days when she was the poor little nursery- 
 maid of Dr. Budd in the City of London. 
 
 67 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 Chapter V. 
 
 W HEN Emma returned to Naples as Lady Hamilton, she 
 attained a position not only of the highest social 
 influence, but also, as time went on, one of considerable 
 political importance. Queen Maria Caroline, who had formerly 
 held aloof from the Ambassador’s mistress, now gave to the 
 Ambassador’s wife her cordial friendship, and later on her intimate 
 confidence. There were reasons, apart from Emma’s fascination, 
 why the Queen of the Two Sicilies should be gracious to Lady 
 Hamilton. The Revolution in France had burst forth in a tempest 
 of human passion, before which the old regime of feudal tyranny 
 had been shattered, and all the old fetters of social caste and creed 
 had been broken by the new spirit of democracy. Queen Maria’s 
 sister, the ill-fated Marie Antoinette, and her brother-in-law, King 
 Louis XVI., were made the scapegoats of a system which was not 
 of their fashioning, and on the scaffold paid with their own blood 
 the penalty of their predecessors’ immorality and cruelty. The 
 falling of their heads into the basket of the guillotine, a basket 
 loaded daily with a bloody harvesting of fair and noble fruit, 
 resounded over Europe, and the thrones of other nations trembled 
 with the ominous warning of a social earthquake. The spirit of 
 Democracy, a spirit of hope and liberty to those who had been 
 the slaves of feudalism, a hydra-headed, bloodthirsty, and ferocious 
 monster to those who had been born in pride and bred in luxury, 
 aroused the latent passions of humanity, not in France alone, but 
 in many countries of Europe where the pomp of Courts, and the 
 glitter of a wealthy aristocracy were contrasted with the poverty 
 
 68 
 
Emma, Lady h >'~ „ 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 W H EN 1 ^ * returned to Naples as Lady Hamilton, she 
 attained position not only of the highest social 
 
 influence, hut also, as time went on, one of considerable 
 politic , importance. Queen Maria Caroline, who had formerly 
 
 mistress, now gave to the 
 An lor r s wil cordial friendship, and later on her intimat#' 
 confidence. There were reasons, apart from Emma’s fascination, 
 why the Queen of the Two Sicilies should be gracious to Lady 
 Hamilton The Revoium in France h id burst forth in a tempest 
 
 regime of feudal tyranny 
 bad been si ers of social caste and creeit 
 
 had been br ; . . r> Use new spirit of democracy. Queen Maria’s 
 sister, the ill luted Marie Antoinette, and her brother-in-law, King 
 Loui - XVI., were made the scapegoats of a system which was not 
 of their fashioning, and on the scaffold paid with their own blood 
 the penalty of their predecessors’ immorality and cruelty. The 
 falling of their heads into the basket of the guillotine, a basket 
 loaded daily with a bloody harvesting of fair and noble fruit, 
 resounded over Europe, and the thrones of other nations trembled 
 with the ominous warning of a social earthquake. The spirit of 
 Democracy, a spirit of hope and liberty to i hose who had been 
 the slaves of feudalism, a hydra -he - led, bloodthirsty, and ferocious 
 monster to those who had been born in pride and bred in luxury, 
 aroused the latent passions of humanity, not in France alone, but 
 in many countries of Europe where the pomp of Courts, and the 
 tter of a wealthy aristocracy were contrasted with the poverty 
 
 
 
LADY HAMILTON (“THE SPINSTRESS ”) 
 BY GEORGE ROMNEY. 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 and squalor of the people who produced the wealth, but did not 
 share it. In spite of a political and democratic tyranny not less 
 cruel for a time than that of the old regime, and when afterwards 
 the young Napoleon rose like a new god of battles upon the ruins 
 of the old dynasty; in spite of a military autocracy, more dangerous 
 to the welfare of the people than the Sovereign power of their 
 old Kings, the watchword of France, “ Liberty, Equality, 
 Fraternity,” rung like a trumpet call through Europe, so that 
 the ramparts of medievalism were in peril of falling like the walls 
 of Jericho. Italy, as well as the other nations, heard the call to 
 liberty, and to the Court of Naples the murmurings and rumblings 
 of neighbouring Vesuvius were symbolical of the smouldering fires 
 in the hearts of the Neapolitan people. Ferdinand of Naples was 
 doubtless indifferent to all such signs of eruption. He was one of 
 those stupid, easy-tempered, self-indulgent men, who, so long as 
 they can satisfy their animal appetites, and get sufficient entertain- 
 ment to prevent the occasional boredom of life, do not trouble their 
 heads about signs of the times or gloomy portals. Ferdinand was a 
 faineant king. The business of the State, that is to say the collection 
 of taxes to pay for his luxury, he left to his Ministers, who might 
 rob or oppress the people as much as they liked, provided they gave 
 him plenty of pocket money. The most serious work of his life 
 was hunting wild boars and other game in his dominions, and 
 his highest ideal was to be a good sportsman. For this reason he 
 had a great admiration for the British Ambassador, Sir William 
 Hamilton, who was also a good shot, and a pleasant companion on 
 a hunting expedition. 
 
 Queen Maria Caroline was of a different temperament. She 
 held in a firm grasp the helm of State which her Royal husband 
 was so perfectly willing to relinquish to her, and, as her woman’s 
 wit was quick to see the signs of coming danger, she was not less 
 astute to cultivate friends who would be her best defence when 
 
 69 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 the danger came. She was certainly not blind to the fact that on 
 the small stage of Naples the drama of the French Revolution 
 might be played out in miniature. There were the same contrasts 
 in society, the same type of idle, vicious aristocracy preying upon a 
 down-trodden and despairing peasantry. Already the “ new ideas ” 
 had infected the population with the poisonous bacillus of Liberty. 
 The democrats, or Jacobins, as they were called, formed a strong 
 and steadily increasing party converted to the Napoleonic ideal by 
 Garat, the French Ambassador and spy, who was steadily though 
 secretly at work undermining the foundations of the throne. So 
 much the Queen learnt clearly enough from her own spies and secret 
 agents. Worse still, the poison was operating not only among the 
 mob, but was spreading into the ranks of the nobles, many of whom 
 were plotting to set up a Republic upon the model of France. But 
 Queen Maria Caroline had greater strength, and less womanliness, 
 than her sister, Marie Antoinette. She was determined to take 
 a lesson from the tragic fate of that sister, and to deal with 
 revolutionaries with little mercy. Swiftly and relentlessly the 
 leaders of the Jacobin movement were arrested and thrown into 
 prison, and there they would have rotted to death if, at a later 
 date, the Queen had not been forced to liberate them as “an 
 act of clemency ” by the threatened violence of their followers. 
 But as history was being quickly made in those years, when 
 Napoleon’s sun was rising over the battlefields of Europe, Queen 
 Maria Caroline realised with ever growing conviction that to 
 one nation alone must she turn for protection, not only from her 
 own subjects, but from the relentless hand of the Corsican, whose 
 eyes were already turned towards the Two Sicilies. England 
 alone, of all the countries of Europe, had successfully defied 
 the French Eagle. England’s supremacy of the sea was the only 
 power that could save the Court of Naples from being swept into 
 the limbo of wrecked kingdoms. It was, therefore, a matter of 
 
 70 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 high policy, as well as, no doubt, one of personal attraction, which 
 encouraged the Queen of Naples to establish the most intimate 
 and friendly relations with Lady Hamilton. Emma’s connexion 
 with the Vice-Chamberlain, the Hon. Charles Greville, with whom 
 she maintained a regular correspondence, enabled her not only 
 to obtain private information as to the feeling of the English 
 Court regarding the situation at Naples, but also to keep open 
 a secret channel of communication with England by which she 
 could impress her personality upon the English King and his 
 advisers, with whom Greville was, of course, on friendly terms. 
 Then, as the wife of the British Ambassador, Lady Hamilton 
 formed a convenient medium by which the Queen could communi- 
 cate with him without arousing the suspicion of the French party 
 in Naples, and without even the knowledge of her own Ministers, 
 in whom she had but little faith. Finally, Sir William was 
 flattered and pleased at any attention shown to his wife, and his 
 loyalty to the interests of the King and Queen, so necessary now, 
 when they relied upon his friendship as the best security of 
 their kingdom, was assured by the Royal favours lavished upon 
 Lady Hamilton herself. All these reasons combined to make 
 Emma a person of high importance at the Court of Naples, 
 and enabled her to bask to the fullest extent in the sunshine of the 
 Queen’s indulgence. 
 
 Hardly a day passed without Lady Hamilton spending some 
 hours in the Queen’s presence. Horses, carriages and grooms 
 from the Royal stables were put at her disposal, and a Royal dinner 
 party was never considered complete unless she graced it with her 
 beauty. When Sir William Hamilton fell ill — and he was now, as 
 old age came upon him, frequently troubled with bilious disorders — 
 the Queen sent sympathetic messages many times a day to Emma, 
 and actually offered to relieve her in her arduous duties of nursing. 
 Upon Sir William’s recovery from one of these illnesses, the Royal 
 
 71 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 Palace at Caserta was placed at the disposal of Lady Hamilton, so 
 that she might take her husband there for a change of scene during 
 his convalescence. 
 
 Emma’s life during these years was very busy and brilliant. No 
 longer did the great ladies of the English aristocracy hold aloof 
 from her as a person of doubtful reputation, but at her house at 
 Caserta she constantly entertained such distinguished visitors as 
 the Duchess of Ancaster, the Devonshire Family, Lord and Lady 
 Cholmondeley, Lord and Lady Palmerston, Lady Plymouth, Lady 
 Spencer, Lady Bessborough, Sir George and Lady Webster, and 
 Lord Bristol. These ladies were indebted to their hostess, not 
 only for the pleasantest hospitality and entertainment, but also for 
 their introductions to the Queen of Naples, w r ho was always 
 gracious to Lady Hamilton’s friends. “ Our house,” said Emma in 
 a letter to Greville, “ has been like an inn this winter, as we have had 
 partys that have come either to see the environs, or have been 
 invited to Court.” Although Sir William and Lady Hamilton had 
 taken up their residence for some time at their country house at 
 Caserta, they drove into Naples almost every day, where they 
 entertained on a large scale. Fifty people often sat down to dinner 
 at the town house, and afterwards there were balls attended by 
 three or four hundred people of high rank, so that usually 
 it was in the small hours of the morning before the Hamiltons 
 returned to Caserta for sleep and rest. But they had to be up again 
 in good time in order to attend the twelve o’clock meal at the 
 Court, where the Royal Family dined early. On evenings when the 
 Hamiltons were not entertaining themselves they generally remained 
 at the Palace, where they were treated en famille. At such times 
 Lady Hamilton had long and intimate talks, tete-a-tete, with the 
 Queen, and afterwards there was music in the private apartments. 
 “Yesterday,” Emma writes on June 2nd, 1793, “the King and me 
 sang duetts three hours. It was but bad, as he sings like a King." 
 
 72 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 It says much for a woman of such humble up-bringing that, 
 in spite of her intimacy with the Queen, she does not seem to 
 have aroused any jealousy or hostility among the other ladies of 
 the Court, nor did she ever endanger the favour shown to her by 
 any undue familiarity in public. “ The Ministers’ wives are very 
 fond of me,” she wrote in the same letter quoted above, “ as they 
 see I have no pretentions ; nor do I abuse of Her Majesty’s 
 goodness, and she observed that the other night at Court at Naples, 
 [when] we had a drawing-room ... I had been with the Queen 
 the night before alone, en famille , laughing and singing, &c., &c., 
 but at the drawing-room I kept my distance, and pay’d the Queen 
 as much respect as though I had never seen her before, which 
 pleased her very much. But she shewed me much distinction that 
 night, and told me several times how much she admired my good 
 conduct. I only tell you this to shew and convince you I shall 
 never change, but always be simple and natural.” There can be no 
 doubt that Lady Hamilton was just as “simple and natural” as 
 Emma Hart had been. It was about this time that she wrote to 
 Greville on behalf of her old grandmother, and many passages in 
 her letters, both now and later, show that her love for her mother 
 was as strong as ever in spite of her change of fortune. Her 
 charming naturalness, her spontaneous gaiety, and her simple 
 delight in her own beauty and talents disarmed the criticism of 
 ladies who would have resented any haughtiness or pretension on her 
 part, while her sincere affection and dutiful regard for Sir William 
 enabled her to behave with a liberty and unrestraint of manner 
 towards the men who crowded her salon which would have been 
 injudicious, to say the least, in a woman whose reputation was not 
 secure. Her popularity was so great that it was above the 
 prejudices of political parties, and although the Jacobins had no 
 friendliness for the English as a nation, regarding them as the 
 protectors of oppression, they had, both now and later, when 
 
 73 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 political passion ran very high, a real regard and admiration for the 
 wife of the British Ambassador. 
 
 Lady Hamilton’s letters of this time reveal her delight in her new 
 powers and distinction. She remarks to Greville upon her “ very 
 extraordinary situation ” at the Court, and prides herself upon having 
 “ got into politicks.” She is never tired of praising the character of 
 the Queen, hoping, no doubt, that her artless eulogies will be 
 repeated by Greville to high personages in England. “ If you could 
 know her as I do,” she writes to Greville, “how you would adore 
 her ! for she is the first woman in the world ; her talents are superior 
 to every woman’s in the world ; and her heart is most excellent and 
 strictly good and upright. But you’ll say it is because we are such 
 friends that I am partial ; but ask everybody that knows her. She 
 loves England, and is attached to our Ministry, and wishes the 
 continuation of the war as the only means to end that abominable 
 French Council.” 
 
 The Queen herself placed implicit trust in the discretion of Lady 
 Hamilton, and on several occasions placed in her hands secret 
 despatches containing private information upon the political in- 
 trigues of France with European Powers, in order that Emma 
 might show them to Sir William for transmission to his Govern- 
 ment. On more than one occasion these despatches were given to 
 Lady Hamilton before the King of Naples, to whom they were 
 addressed, had heard of their arrival, and it is evident that the 
 Queen knew she was playing dangerous cards in handling the private 
 correspondence of the King in this manner. “ I only beg of him ” 
 (that is Sir William Hamilton) “ not to compromise me,” she wrote 
 to the Ambassador’s wife, when enclosing a cypher letter from 
 Spain, “ which must be returned before twelve o’clock so that the 
 King may have it.” Surely there has been no stranger thing 
 in history than the way in which a woman who had begun her 
 life as a domestic drudge in London became the confidante of 
 
 74 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 State secrets of the highest importance to the destiny of Europe ! 
 
 Considerable controversy has arisen as to the actual contents of 
 the cypher letter mentioned above. Dr. Pettigrew, the early 
 biographer of Lady Hamilton, declares it to have announced the 
 intention of the King of Spain to join hands with France, the early 
 news of which enabled the British Ministry to send orders to Sir 
 John Jervis to strike an immediate blow against the Spanish fleet. 
 Dr. Pettigrew supplemented this information by a romantic story of 
 the way in which Lady Hamilton managed to prevail upon the 
 Queen to steal the document from the King’s despatch bag, and to 
 let her copy it for transmission to the British Government. There 
 seems no doubt now that this touch of romance was purely 
 imaginary, and that the document was sent to Lady Hamilton upon 
 the Queen’s initiative. But Nelson himself always firmly believed 
 that the news of the Spanish King’s alliance with France first 
 reached England through the medium of Lady Hamilton, although 
 he did not attribute Sir John Jervis’s victory to the immediate 
 result of this information. Whatever may be the exact facts of the 
 case, and no documents in existence are able to decide this 
 particular point, it is clear that Lady Hamilton was enabled to 
 transmit important information to the British Government from 
 time to time, owing to her intimacy with the Queen, and a letter 
 written to Greville in 1796 shews that she then regarded herself as 
 having earned the gratitude of the nation by important services. 
 
 “ We have not time to write to you,” she said in a hurried note 
 on September 21st of that year, “as we have been three days and 
 three nights writing, to send by this courier, letters of consequence 
 for our Government. They ought to be grateful to Sir William and 
 myself in particular , as my situation at this Court is very extraordinary, 
 and what no person has yet arrived at. But one has no thanks, 
 and I am almost sick of grandeur.” 
 
 One must go back now to an incident in 1793, which, though she 
 
 75 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 knew it not at the time, was to have the most potent influence upon 
 her future life. This was the visit of a young naval officer, named 
 Captain Horatio Nelson, sent with despatches to Sir William 
 Hamilton. At that time Nelson was without fame, and known only 
 to the Admiralty as one of those gallant and promising young men, 
 of whom there was then no dearth in the Navy. Nevertheless 
 upon his arrival at Naples, Sir William Hamilton perceived in him 
 some characteristics of future greatness which marked him out 
 from among the other naval officers who put in from time to time 
 at the Italian port. For Nelson, who was thirty-four years of age, 
 had an insatiable desire for fame, and a consciousness of his own 
 genius, which gave to his personality an impressiveness of a 
 different type to the ordinary characteristics of the English seaman. 
 His frail body was animated by an extraordinary energy, and in his 
 large restless eyes there burned a fire that shewed the spirit of the 
 man. Sir William prophesied to Lady Hamilton that he would one 
 day rise to a high position, and he treated him with a respect 
 and a flattering hospitality beyond what was due to an officer 
 of his moderate rank. We do not know what were Lady 
 Hamilton’s sentiments at that time towards the man who after- 
 wards became her hero and her lover. In none of her letters at 
 this time does she write a word that might be interpreted as a 
 foreboding of the fate that should bind her to that great, little man, 
 in an immortality of fame. On Nelson’s side it was certainly 
 not a case of love at first sight. He was married, and undoubtedly 
 at that time happily married, and he only felt a sense of gratitude 
 to the beautiful wife of the Ambassador who had shown so much 
 generous hospitality to him. The captain of the Agamemnon , who 
 had been feasted and housed in Naples, not only at Embassy balls, 
 but at the Court by the King and Queen, was recalled to stern 
 duty by the news of “a French man-of-war and three sail” 
 anchored off Sardinia, and thus, with pleasant memories of his 
 
 76 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilta 
 
 - ? time, wa s most potent influence upon 
 
 young naval officer, named 
 lies to Sir William 
 
 i: '• At tt- ? ?: .5 v. m 'lout tv ; ■ and known only 
 
 1 5t AAmira y ■ < gallant a>d prom y young men, 
 
 > artfi in the s T y\ Nevertheless 
 
 o es, Sir William Hamilton perceived in him 
 - oe c his tc * future greatness which marked him out 
 
 nors; tl ; /ther n val officers who put in from time to time 
 at the Italian port. For Nelson, who was thirty-four years of age, 
 had an insatiable desire for fame, and a consciousness of his own 
 genius, which gave to his personality an impressiveness of a 
 different type to the ordinary characteristics of the English seaman. 
 His frail body ws animated by an extraordinary energy, and in his 
 
 spirit of the 
 
 Sir VMham prophesied to Lady H;o ■ . 4 he -■ uld one 
 
 to a high position, be treat respect 
 
 C to an officer 
 
 •i his mode; on rank. We do not know what were Lady 
 lum :■;<* s ;i. >.n • at that time towards the man who after- 
 vat ds became her hero and her lover. In none of her letters at 
 this time does she write a word that might be interpreted as a 
 foreboding of the fate that should bind her to that great, little man, 
 in an immortality of fame. On Nelson’s side it was certainly 
 not a case of love at first sight. He was married and undoubtedly 
 at that time happily married, aid he only felt ^v-nse of gratitude 
 to the beautiful wife of the Ambassador who had shown so much 
 gcneious hospitality tc- h m. The captain of the Agamemnon, who 
 bad been feasted and horsed in Naples, not only at Embassy balls, 
 
 but at the Court by t ! e King and Queen, was recalled to stern 
 
 d by the news of 1 French man-of-war and three sail” 
 
 a- • ee off Sardinia, and thus, with pleasant memories of his 
 
LADY HAMILTON (“SENSIBILITY”) 
 
 BY GEORGE ROMNEY. 
 
 By kind permission of the owner. Lord Burton. 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 reception, left the place to which, five years later, he would return 
 with all the triumph of a conquering hero. 
 
 During these five years the Hamiltons heard the name of Nelson 
 too often to forget the slight, delicate, ardent man who had been 
 their honoured guest, though as yet he still achieved nothing 
 but the promise of greatness. But in many a sea duel, in many a 
 dangerous cutting-out adventure in the boats, in the vanguard 
 of many a heroic battle with the fleets of France and Spain, Nelson 
 was mentioned in despatches for his gallantry and daring and 
 swift resource. 13ut during those same years a greater name than 
 Nelson’s had dominated the imagination of the world. Napoleon 
 had been working out his destiny, and on the chessboard of Europe 
 he had played for kingdoms, with kings as pawns. There is no 
 need even to outline the great Napoleonic drama, but a few words 
 must be said as to the situation of Naples in 1798. Ferdinand had 
 been forced to enter into a treaty of alliance with France, much 
 against his will, and the leaders of the Jacobin movement, who 
 had been imprisoned four years earlier on the charge of plotting 
 against the lives of the King and Queen, were now released with a 
 free pardon. But the danger of the Neapolitan Kingdom was 
 now extreme. The revolutionary spirit was stronger than ever 
 among the people, and many of the nobles ; and Ferdinand 
 and Maria Caroline knew that they held their crowns by an un- 
 certain tenure. They learnt also that Napoleon was only ’biding 
 his time to dethrone them and make the Two Sicilies a Republic 
 State under the dominion of France. In the spring of 1798 news 
 was brought that his fleets were already in motion for a descent 
 upon Sicily and Naples, and saw their safety depended absolutely 
 upon the succour of the British Navy. 
 
 It was Lady Hamilton who appealed to the British Government 
 for help. She wrote an imploring letter to Earl St. Vincent, 
 setting forth the extreme peril of the Neapolitan Court, and 
 
 77 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton . 
 
 begging him to send a fleet to their rescue. This letter was 
 answered by the Admiral in the most chivalrous terms, addressed 
 to “The Patroness of the British Navy,” telling her that he 
 was sending “a knight of superior prowess” to the succour of 
 their Sicilian Majesties. This “knight” was Rear-Admiral Sir 
 Horatio Nelson, who was commissioned to proceed in quest of the 
 armament preparing at Toulon and Genoa, the object whereof 
 appeared to be an attack upon Naples or Sicily. “ Upon falling in 
 with the armament, or any part of it,” he was instructed to use his 
 utmost endeavour “ to sink, burn, and destroy it.” 
 
 Nelson firmly believed for a time that the object of Napoleon’s 
 great fleet was to make an attack on Sicily, as his Admiral had 
 suggested, and he sent assuring messages to Sir William and 
 Lady Hamilton that he would defend the two Sicilies with his 
 utmost energy. But he did not find it easy to come in touch with 
 the French battleships, and his own fleet was dispersed in a heavy 
 storm. Afterwards he found that the enemy had given him the 
 slip, and he was entirely baffled as to Napoleon’s destination. He 
 swept up and down the Mediterranean, and with full sail hurried 
 away to Egypt, Syria, and Asia, and then back again in eager 
 search, without once catching a glimpse of the French line of 
 battle, or obtaining any authentic information as to their where- 
 abouts. It was now absolutely necessary for him to enter and victual 
 his ships in Sicilian ports; but as this would be in defiance of 
 Ferdinand’s treaty of alliance with France, he sent Captain 
 Trowbridge to Naples to obtain formal permission for this privilege. 
 The episode now occurred upon which Lady Hamilton based 
 her claims, in later years, for a pension from the British Govern- 
 ment, and one that Nelson himself referred to, in the clearest 
 and most emphatic terms, in the famous codicil to his will, 
 recommending Lady Hamilton to the gratitude of the nation on 
 account of her great and patriotic services. When all the romantic 
 
 78 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 and imaginary details have been put on one side, it is clear that 
 Lady Hamilton used her great influence with the Queen to 
 obtain the necessary authority for Nelson to get fresh supplies for 
 his fleet at Syracuse and other Sicilian ports. That she had 
 any great difficulty in persuading the Queen is extremely doubtful. 
 It is quite possible that Ferdinand may have been in fear and 
 trembling of Napoleon’s wrath, should he violate the treaty with 
 France, but Queen Maria Caroline herself was quite clear-headed 
 enough to see that her only hope lay in the success of Nelson over 
 the French fleet, and that in the event of his defeat nothing 
 whatever would save the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies from the 
 revolutionary party in their own State, or from the ruthless hands 
 of Napoleon. It was, therefore, her only true policy to give 
 every possible facility to Admiral Nelson, especially as, if she did 
 not grant the required permission, he was quite strong enough to 
 take by force what he asked for so civilly. Nevertheless, nothing 
 can rob Lady Hamilton of the honour of having ardently, and 
 with the sincerest patriotism, represented to the Queen of Naples 
 the claims of the British Navy upon her good services, and of 
 having obtained for Nelson, promptly, and in the clearest possible 
 words, the permit which he considered so necessary to his success. 
 
 Nelson’s belief in the importance of this service is not to be 
 doubted. “ The British fleet, under my command,” he wrote 
 on board the Victory, a few hours before his death, “ could never 
 have returned the second time to Egypt had not Lady Hamilton’s 
 influence with the Queen of Naples caused letters to be wrote 
 to the Governor of Syracuse that he was to encourage the fleet 
 being supplied with everything, should they put into any port 
 in Sicily. We put into Syracuse and received every supply, went 
 to Egypt, and destroyed the French fleet.” 
 
 If Nelson himself believed his victory at the Nile to be due 
 in no small measure to the way in which Lady Hamilton had acted 
 
 79 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 in the interests of her nation, it seems a cruel injustice to the 
 memory of that remarkable woman to refuse her any claim to 
 honour in regard to this service, because the details of it have been 
 too highly coloured and exaggerated by some of her biographers. 
 Perhaps Nelson himself may have read too much into the episode — 
 for one can hardly believe that he would not have obtained what 
 he wanted at Syracuse, if permission had been withheld — but, 
 at least, we may acknowledge the patriotic and admirable behaviour 
 of Lady Hamilton at that critical time. 
 
 As all the world knows, Nelson at last discovered the French 
 fleet in Aboukir Bay, and at “the Battle of the Nile,” as it is 
 now called, achieved one of the most brilliant and heroic victories 
 in the history of naval warfare. When the Admiral’s despatches 
 were brought to Naples, the English party and the Royalists were 
 delirious with joy, and the Jacobins became very quiet and 
 subdued. To Queen Maria Caroline, and to Lady Hamilton, whose 
 warm and emotional nature made her feel the liveliest sympathy 
 for the Royal family, with whose interests also her own future was 
 bound up, the news came as an almost painful shock of relief. 
 They had been haunted by a great fear. For months they 
 had been living, as it were, on the edge of a crater, which might 
 belch forth its fiery lava of human passion and engulf them in the 
 horrors of revolution and foreign occupation. Nelson had been 
 their only hope. To Lady Hamilton, as well as to the Queen, 
 the figure of Nelson was radiant with the glamour of a Christian 
 hero against the powers of darkness. His name had been devoutly 
 spoken in their passionate prayers ; they had prayed to the God 
 of battles to strengthen his right arm, so that he might shatter the 
 great enemy of mankind. Such language seems extravagant in 
 these days, but it is not easy now to realise the dread terror 
 inspired by the genius of Napoleon over the minds of those who 
 were opposed to his ambitions. When, therefore, the great tidings 
 
 80 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 of Nelson’s victory were brought to Naples, the usually calm Queen 
 lost her self-control and gave way to hysterical tears of joy, 
 while Lady Hamilton was carried away by her emotion. It must 
 be confessed that the fair Emma was nothing if not theatrical, and 
 her characteristic led her to take part in an exhibition which would 
 seem rather startling in these days to the wife of a British 
 Ambassador. She drove through the streets of Naples, with the 
 two naval officers who had carried the despatches, wearing a band 
 round her forehead, emblazoned with gold letters spelling “ Nelson 
 and Victory ! ” by which she announced the great news to the 
 populace. But this demonstration was as nothing compared to 
 the emotion with which she greeted the Admiral himself when 
 he came in triumph to Naples. Upon going on board his flagship, 
 the Vanguard , Lady Hamilton embraced the one-armed, one-eyed, 
 hero in a kind of ecstasy of gratitude, and exclaiming “ O God, is it 
 possible ? ” fell into a sudden swoon. 
 
 “ She fell into my arm,” wrote Nelson to his wife, “ more dead 
 than alive. Tears, however, soon set matters to rights.” She 
 was able to hide her emotion during the arrival of the King, 
 who stepped on board Nelson’s ship with the greeting of 
 “ Deliverer and Preserver,” but Nelson was more touched by the 
 passionate homage of the beautiful woman than by the grateful 
 compliment of Ferdinand. 
 
 The Admiral was weak with wounds and fever, and at the 
 British Embassy Lady Hamilton tended him with devotion. But 
 he was not allowed to rest and recuperate quietly in Naples. 
 Tremendous festivities were arranged to do him honour. The 
 King and Queen held great assemblies at the Court, where all 
 the Neapolitan nobles, even those, no doubt, who were secretly in 
 sympathy with the French, paid the most flattering and outwardly 
 enthusiastic tributes to the British Admiral. Sir William Hamilton 
 was not behindhand, and spent a fortune upon a fete in honour 
 
 81 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 of Nelson’s fortieth birthday, at which nearly two thousand people 
 were present. But Nelson, thorough Englishman in his instincts 
 and piety, felt no affection towards all the smirking and grimacing 
 people who overwhelmed him with sickening praise and heated 
 adulation. He saw through their brilliant uniforms into their false 
 and vicious hearts, and soon discovered that all their pomp and 
 luxury and gaiety covered corrupt and squalid natures. In coarse, 
 sailor language, he dismissed them, in a letter to Earl St. Vincent, 
 as “ fiddlers and poets, whores and scoundrels.” Only one woman 
 seems set above these gilded popinjays on a pedestal of purity and 
 noble character. Startled and touched by the extraordinary 
 emotion of Lady Hamilton, whose perfect beauty and grace lifted 
 such emotion above any hint of ludicrous effect, the Admiral, never 
 insensitive to woman’s charms, although spotlessly pure hitherto 
 in all his relationship with women, felt himself drawn more and 
 more towards her. 
 
 Her natural simplicity of manner was sweet and refreshing 
 contrasted with the painted and artificial witcheries of the 
 Neapolitan ladies around her. Her gift for high sentiments, 
 and the noble dignity of manner which she undoubtedly possessed 
 at this time, perhaps from close association with a queen, and 
 also from companionship with the many great English ladies 
 who had received her hospitality at Caserta, deeply impressed 
 the simple sailor, whose long service at sea had not allowed 
 him to see much of the fair sex. At this time, at least, during 
 the first few weeks he spent at Naples, Nelson’s feelings towards 
 Lady Hamilton were certainly devoid of passion, and were only 
 based upon a tender and reverent esteem for a lady who 
 had shown him great kindness and a beautiful homage to his 
 genius. Quite candidly, and without any arnerc pensee , he was 
 able to write to his wife about the gracious woman who had 
 nursed him. 
 
 82 
 
A Biographical Essay . 
 
 “I hope some day,” he wrote, “to introduce you to Lady 
 Hamilton. She is one of the very best women in this world ; 
 she is an honour to her sex. Her kindness, with Sir William’s, 
 to me is more than I can express ; I am in their house, and I 
 may now tell you it required all the kindness of my friends to 
 set me up.” 
 
 What were Lady Hamilton’s sentiments towards him at this 
 early period of their intimacy we can only guess. It must be 
 remembered that Sir William Hamilton was now an old, a pre- 
 maturely old man, and although she had loved him, and still loved 
 him, grateful for all his kindness to her, there had never been 
 any romance of passion in that love. But now in her own house 
 was a man, a hero, adored by England, worshipped as a hero by 
 every English maid whose heart might be moved with hero- 
 worship. This great man, weak in body but strong in spirit, a 
 knightly St. George who had sorely wounded the Dragon of 
 France, and was ready and eager for further fights, looked to her 
 as his comforter and healer, and unburdened his heart to her 
 as a woman who could understand ; he told her his secrets and his 
 hopes as a woman worthy of the highest trust, and, to her who 
 had been hardly treated in the past, who had been scorned as 
 a frail creature, who had indeed been guilty of weakness and 
 sin, he expressed a chivalrous reverence, and gave the homage 
 of his great genius as to a woman of extraordinary virtue 
 and high nobility of soul. One cannot wonder if already Lady 
 Hamilton was stirred with dangerous emotion, and troubled with 
 the first warnings of a seductive passion. To have the homage 
 of a Nelson, whom all the world applauded, was an exultant 
 thought to a woman who had sprung from the humblest rank of 
 life, and who had known much of man’s patronage, but little of 
 man’s reverence. 
 
 This dangerous intimacy between an emotional woman and a 
 
 83 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 sensitive man was interrupted for awhile by Nelson’s departure 
 from Naples to an attack upon Malta, where the French were 
 in possession, and by many exciting events which took place 
 during his absence. 
 
 The defeat of the French fleet had aroused a sudden and fresh 
 outburst of martial enthusiasm among the Neapolitan loyalists, 
 and strengthened the hands of the Royal Family. The treaty 
 with France was renounced, and Garat, the French emissary in 
 Naples, was packed off to his own country, and an army of nearly 
 forty thousand men was raised by Ferdinand, and, under an 
 Austrian General, named Mack, took the field against the French 
 veterans in Italy, full of enthusiasm in their own powers, and 
 with the highest hopes of gaining glory at a cheap price. But 
 glory does not come to them who are not prepared to pay for 
 it with dear blood. The Neapolitans were better as “ fiddlers and 
 poets ” than as fighting men, and not many weeks after they had 
 set out in gallant array, and all the glitter and panoply of war, 
 they were beaten back by the French troops of far inferior 
 numbers, ignominiously, disastrously, and most ingloriously. The 
 tables were turned. The Jacobin party in Naples, who had been 
 lying very low when Nelson’s ships had been in the harbour, 
 now sprung up with renewed audacity. The Revolution which had 
 been long smouldering broke out into red flames. Murder stalked 
 the streets, and popular riots threatened the Royalists with all 
 the horrors of a Neapolitan reign of terror. The Royal Family 
 was in extreme peril, and Queen Maria Caroline, who had shown 
 the strongest mind in the past, became panic-stricken, while 
 Ferdinand, le roi faineant in time of peace, revealed some 
 signs of courage in the hour of peril. He was for staying and 
 defending his Court against the revolutionists with the aid of 
 his bodyguard and the brave “ lazzaroni,” or beggars who had 
 lived lazily on his charity and were now ready to fight, standing 
 
 84 
 
E mma . / ady Hamilton. 
 
 . ipted for awhile by Nelson’s departure 
 ?: upon Malta, where the French were 
 
 W in ™y exciting events which took place 
 
 during his i osence 
 
 T ;r f each fleet had aroused a sudden and fresh 
 
 ° Jlurs ♦ martial enthusiasm among the Neapo tar loyalists, 
 and strengthened the hands of the Royal Family. The treaty 
 with France was renounced, and Garat, the French emissar in 
 'pies, was packed off to his own country, and an army of nearly 
 forty thousand men was raised by Ferdinand, and, under an 
 Austrian Generak named Mack, took the field against the French 
 veterans in Italy, full of enthusiasm in their own powers, and 
 with the highest hopes of gaining glory at a cheap price. But 
 ry do*.; s n- t come to them who are not prepared to pay for 
 it with dear blood. The Neapolitans were better as “ fiddlers and 
 
 tnan as fighting men, and not many weeks after they had 
 set out in gallant array, and all the glitter and panoply of war, 
 they were beaten back by the French troops of far inferior 
 numbers, ignominiously, disastrously, and most ingloriously. The 
 tables were turned. The Jacobin party in Naples, who had been 
 lying very low when Nelson’s ships had been in the harbour, 
 now sprung up with renewed audacity. The Revolution which had 
 been long smouldering broke out into red flames. Murder stalked 
 e s reets, and popular riots threatened the Royalists with all 
 the horrors of a Neapolitan reign of terror. The Royal Family 
 » in extreme perii, and Queen Maria Caroline, who had shown 
 the s *ongest mind i t e past, became panic-stricken, while 
 Ferdinand, It roi faineart in time of peace, revealed some 
 signs of courage in the hour of peril. He w'as for staying and 
 defending his Court against the revolutionists with the aid of 
 his bodyguard and the brave “ lazzaroni,” or beggars who had 
 lived lazily on his charity and were now ready to fight, standing 
 
LADY HAMILTON (EMMA HART). BY ROMNEY. 
 In the possession of Alfred Rothschild , Esq. 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 for the privileges of beggary against the champions of a political 
 liberty that would probably deprive them of the daily bread 
 for which they did not need to work. Maria Caroline, however, 
 remembered the fate of her sister, Marie Antoinette, and she had 
 no ambition to gain the crown of martyrdom. So Ferdinand 
 was persuaded to escape from Naples and seek safety and flight 
 across the water in Palermo. 
 
 Strange as it may seem, the person upon whom the Royal 
 Family relied the most for their rescue from their perilous situation 
 was Lady Hamilton. This was the most romantic episode of her 
 remarkable career, and never before or later did she rise to such 
 a height of real heroism ; to her activity and discretion the King 
 and Queen certainly owed their successful flight with all their 
 treasure. Never having taken part in politics, and being unsus- 
 pected as an “ intrigante ” by the Jacobin party, she was able to 
 receive private communications from the Queen without arousing 
 suspicion. Although the Court was surrounded with spies, it never 
 seemed to occur to the revolutionists that the constant messages 
 passing from the Palace to the British Embassy were of any 
 serious consequence. Yet, as a matter of fact, to Lady Hamilton 
 there were secretly conveyed many cases of good red gold, ducats 
 with the Royal stamp, and all the precious crown jewels. Night 
 after night these cases of treasure were carried by trusty servants 
 to the British Embassy, for consignment by Lady Hamilton to 
 Admiral Nelson’s flagship which had again entered the harbour 
 of Naples. Lady Hamilton faithfully carried out the Queen’s 
 wishes regarding those precious “ stones,” and kept Nelson in 
 touch with the arrangements for the escape of the Royal Family. 
 For many days Lady Hamilton was busy also in packing the art 
 treasures of Sir William, which were also to be put on board one 
 of the British vessels in the harbour, and in conveying secret 
 warnings to his English friends that the time was at hand when 
 
 85 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 they must leave the city of Naples. Then, one dark night, the 
 Ambassador’s wife joined the Royal Family at the Palace, where 
 they were all waiting in readiness for an adventure which was 
 not without the elements of tragedy and peril. But Lady 
 Hamilton cheered them with her courage and assurances, and 
 at the appointed hour they moved silently out of the Royal 
 residence and made their way down a long subterraneous passage 
 to a cove off which the Vanguard was lying-to. Here Nelson 
 was waiting to receive the fugitives, and they were conveyed on 
 board his ship, while the revolutionaries in the city were in 
 absolute ignorance of what was taking place. The voyage to 
 Palermo was a perilous one. A terrific hurricane broke over the 
 British ships, and it seemed as if they would founder every minute. 
 Poor Sir William Hamilton, bold as a hunter of wild boars, 
 completely lost his nerve before the danger of the storm, and sat 
 in his cabin with a revolver in each hand, vowing that he would 
 blow his brains out rather than drown like a dog. But Lady 
 Hamilton showed the utmost heroism, and her cheering words 
 of hope, and ministering hands, were very welcome to the King 
 and Queen and the Royal children. One of these little ones, the 
 youngest infant, was seized with illness brought on by sea-sickness, 
 and breathed out its poor little life in her arms. This tragic 
 event filled the Royal Family with the most gloomy foreboding, 
 and Ferdinand regretted for the time at least that he had ever 
 been prevailed on to leave his palace at Naples. At last, how- 
 ever, they were landed safely at Palermo, and here, after a little 
 while, both the King and Queen recovered their spirits, and their 
 Court life resumed once more its ordinary routine of careless 
 luxury and brilliant frivolity. 
 
 At Naples, when the flight of the Sovereign and his Consort 
 was discovered, the revolutionary party assumed the reins of 
 government until French troops took possession of the city, when 
 
 86 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 the short-lived Neapolitan Republic, after the massacre of 
 many thousands of loyal Lazzaroni, was established. But it was 
 not long before the most ardent of the Neapolitan firebrands 
 repented of their bargain, and a strong reaction set in. The French 
 Generals and the agent of the Republican Convention imposed 
 an enormous tax on the citizens of Naples and the peasants of 
 the surrounding country, and robbed the city of all its treasures 
 with a shameless greed and rapacity never surpassed by French 
 soldiers who made booty a privilege of victory. It soon became 
 evident to Ferdinand that he had very little to fear from his own 
 subjects if the British fleet could drive out the French army 
 from his Neapolitan territories, and he was confident that, with 
 Nelson’s help, he could recover his kingdom. Admiral Nelson 
 was not the man to avoid any encounter with the French, by 
 land or sea, and his instructions at this time from the British 
 Government gave him a perfectly free hand to crush the new- 
 formed Republic, which owed whatever power it might have to 
 French arms and influence, to expel the enemy from all the 
 fields, forts, and islands in their possession, and to reinstate 
 King Ferdinand in his dominions. 
 
 After having chased and defeated a French squadron, and thus 
 disappointed the great hope of reinforcements that had been 
 cherished by the Neapolitan Republic, Admiral Nelson, whose 
 flag was now on the Foudroyant, returned to the Bay of Naples, 
 carrying on board King Ferdinand himself, from whom he received 
 full powers of action over his Neapolitan subjects, and accom- 
 panied also by Sir William and Lady Hamilton, the former, of 
 course in his capacity as British Ambassador, the latter for 
 future services as an interpreter. At the time several important 
 forts which had fallen into French hands were being besieged 
 by a combined force of British, Russian, and Turkish allies, 
 together with a small army of Neapolitan loyalists under the 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 leadership of an ecclesiastic named Cardinal Ruffo. Among these 
 forts were the castles Ovo and Nuovo, which harboured many 
 of the most prominent and distinguished Neapolitan revolutionaries, 
 and a difficult situation arose when Cardinal Ruffo established a 
 truce on favourable terms with the defenders, and obtained a 
 cessation of hostilities preparatory to the surrender of the forts 
 with all honours and privileges. 
 
 The naval officer in command of the British force had been 
 induced by Cardinal Ruffo to put his signature to the surrender, 
 but before the capitulation could be accomplished the terms of 
 surrender were repudiated by King Ferdinand and Admiral 
 Nelson, who considered them a shameful concession, and invalid 
 without their sanction. A stormy scene occurred in Nelson’s 
 cabin, on board the Foudroyant. Cardinal Ruffo, speaking passion- 
 ately in Italian — not one word of which could Nelson understand, 
 but which was interpreted by Lady Hamilton who was present 
 at this historic interview — demanded, pleaded, and implored, that 
 his treaty should be respected and his honour upheld. Fiercely 
 and piteously by turns he endeavoured to persuade Nelson that 
 by all the recognised rules of war, as well as by the faith of 
 gentlemen, the terms of surrender which he had granted to the 
 beleagured garrison should be carried out to the letter. But 
 Admiral Nelson sat impassively with a stern face, turning a deaf 
 ear to the tornado in Italian, but listening silently to Lady Hamilton’s 
 quieter rendering of the Cardinal’s harangue. Nothing would 
 alter his determination to repudiate a treaty arranged without 
 the sanction of the King, and of himself, as Admiral of the 
 Fleet, and Ferdinand’s plenipotentiary. At last, baffled at every 
 point, Cardinal Ruffo left in a rage, and eventually the garrisons 
 were compelled to surrender unconditionally, and “the rebels,” 
 as Nelson wrote afterwards, “ came out of the castles to be 
 hanged or otherwise disposed of as their Sovereign thought proper.” 
 
 88 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 Shortly afterwards another episode occurred which gave a 
 handle to Nelson’s enemies, and afterwards to the slanderers of 
 Lady Hamilton. This was the execution of a distinguished 
 Neapolitan rebel, named Prince Carracciolo, who, after a trial 
 by court-martial of his own countrymen, was condemned to death 
 and hanged on the fore-yard-arm of the Minerva. It has been 
 alleged with the most monstrous inaccuracy and injustice that 
 Lady Hamilton used her influence to prevent Nelson from 
 exercising the prerogative of mercy, and that she gloated with a 
 fiendish delight over the death of this unhappy nobleman, actually 
 being rowed round the Minerva to get a good look at the body 
 swinging from the yard-arm. All this is a tissue of lies, for 
 Lady Hamilton was not present at the execution, and, as a letter 
 from the Queen of Naples proves, she was much distressed by 
 the horror and tragedy of this event. As for Nelson himself, he 
 had very little to do with the execution, merely giving orders 
 for the court-martial of this traitor by his own countrymen, and 
 authorising the sentence to be carried out. There is not the 
 slightest doubt that the Prince fully deserved his fate, for, after 
 having feigned the greatest loyalty to the Royal Family, he had 
 taken up arms against his Sovereigns and become one of the 
 most prominent leaders of the revolution. 
 
 The short lived Neapolitan Republic was now crushed out 
 of existence, the French were bundled out of Naples and the 
 surrounding country, and the rebels paid the heavy price of an 
 unsuccessful insurrection. It must be admitted that Queen 
 Maria Caroline, who now held the reins of power again, her 
 husband reverting to his former carelessness of sovereign authority, 
 did not show much, if any, womanly mercy towards the revolu- 
 tionary leaders who were now repenting in prison. “ Off with 
 their heads ” was the tenour of her despatches from Palermo, 
 and a bloody equivalent was taken for the assassinations 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 committed by the men who had enjoyed such a brief triumph. 
 
 Lady Hamilton, whose influence over Nelson and the Queen 
 was fully known, became the great hope of the unhappy prisoners. 
 Her warm heart and womanly feelings were appealed to by 
 many of the rebels who had gloomy forebodings of their fate. 
 Letters poured in upon her filled with the most piteous and 
 heart-rending prayers for her merciful intervention, and expressing 
 the utmost confidence in her great power to moderate the 
 punishment of these offenders, if she would but speak in their 
 favour. It was an extraordinary position for a woman who had 
 risen from such a humble origin, but although the rebels did not 
 exaggerate her sensibility, they overrated the extent of her 
 influence. Queen Maria Caroline was determined to wreak her 
 vengeance to the full upon those who had conspired against her 
 husband’s crown, and however much affection she felt for the 
 wife of the British Ambassador, she was not prepared to allow 
 her any authority over the lives and fate of the delinquents. 
 Nevertheless, Lady Hamilton did her best on behalf of those 
 who appealed to her charity, and if in most cases they suffered 
 the extreme penalty of their rebellion, it was not for want of 
 mercy in the heart of the Ambassador’s wife. In another way 
 she became the Lady Bountiful of the Neapolitan people, for she 
 had the privilege of distributing large sums of money sent to her 
 by the Queen for the relief of the unfortunate families who had 
 suffered from the scenes of violence in their city. Afterwards 
 Lady Hamilton received £9,000 from the Queen’s privy purse 
 for distribution among the Maltese, who had also suffered much 
 during the French occupation of their island. For all these 
 services Lady Hamilton was rewarded by an honour which had 
 never before been granted to a woman. Upon the suggestion of 
 Nelson himself* the King conferred upon her the Order of the 
 Cross of Malta. From the Queen she received a more 
 
 90 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 substantial recognition of her services. Upon her return to 
 Palermo in Nelson’s flagship with Sir William Hamilton and the 
 King, the Queen received her in public with the most affectionate 
 embraces, and placed round her neck a gold chain to which was 
 suspended a miniature portrait of Maria Caroline herself, set 
 with diamonds and gems forming the words “ Eterna Gratitudine.” 
 Some days later the Queen sent her two coach-loads full of 
 magnificent dresses worth several thousands of pounds, and a 
 portrait of King Ferdinand studded with jewels and valued at a 
 thousand guineas. Sir William Hamilton also received many 
 valuable gifts from the Royal Family. Apart from the really 
 great services that had been rendered by the Hamiltons, and 
 especially by Lady Hamilton, to the King and Queen of Naples, they 
 merited compensation for the very severe losses they had suffered 
 on account of the revolution. Sir William’s house at Caserta, on 
 which he had lavished such large sums of money, had been looted 
 and practically destroyed by the rebels and their French allies, and 
 worse still, many of the precious art treasures collected during the 
 course of many years by the Ambassador, and packed on board the 
 Colossus at the time of their flight to Palermo, had been lost in the 
 disastrous wreck of that vessel. The presents from the King and 
 Queen, which made some amends for these grievous losses, were 
 also parting gifts, and mementos of Sir William Hamilton’s 
 official connection with the Court of Naples. At the beginning of 
 1800, shortly after his return to Palermo in the Foudroyant, the 
 Ambassador received the news of his recall to England. It did 
 not come as a surprise to him, nor did he consider it as any 
 censure on his official conduct. Old age had now come upon him 
 with rapid strides, and he was a broken and enfeebled man. He 
 had long complained to the Home Government that he was growing 
 tired of his duties, and would be glad of a release from them. 
 Nevertheless, it was with natural pangs that he found himself 
 
 91 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 compelled to terminate his official career, and receive his successor 
 in office, the Honourable Arthur Paget. Lady Hamilton perhaps 
 felt his recall more keenly. She could not but reflect that, as the 
 wife of an Ambassador, she had enjoyed a higher dignity than she 
 would have again when Sir William was only a private gentleman 
 with diminished fortunes ; and at this time, however, any gloomy 
 thoughts which may have occurred to her were dispelled by the 
 sunshine of Nelson’s presence, and by the daily increasing know- 
 ledge that the great little Admiral depended upon her smiles and 
 sympathy for happiness. Nelson, for his distinguished services as 
 “ Preserver of the two Sicilies,” had received the Dukedom of 
 Bronte from the grateful King, and had been created a peer of 
 England as a reward for his victory at the Nile. While the 
 Court was still at Palermo, before returning to Naples, he had not 
 been idle, or become enervated by the love and passion which now 
 undoubtedly possessed him. He had chased a French fleet and 
 captured a great battleship called Le Genereux. But now his work 
 was done for the time being in the Mediterranean, and he was free 
 to return to England, and to his poor patient wife whowvas await- 
 ing him so anxiously at home. It would have been better for him 
 if he had made his homeward voyage without delay ; but he 
 lingered on, unwilling to sever himself from the company of the 
 Hamiltons, and spent several weeks in cruising round Sicily and 
 Malta with the Hamiltons on board his flagship. It was during 
 these days, no doubt, that this intimacy with Lady Hamilton 
 ripened into something warmer than Platonic friendship. Con- 
 stantly in the company of the beautiful woman who had seemed 
 to him “ incomparable and divine,” the impressionable suitor forgot 
 the faith he had sworn to another woman whom he had once 
 sincerely loved. There is no record of what took place during that 
 cruise which so altered his relations to Lady Hamilton, and it 
 is impossible to say upon whose side lay the burden of the fault 
 
 92 
 
amma L: dy Hamilton. 
 
 com^Ued to ter cam*, and receive his successor 
 
 I'’,;;'’*"' ' Lady' Hamilton perhaps 
 
 x .‘ ' 1 ' >e r ,<\A not but reflect that, as the 
 
 : ,iad “joyed a higher dignity than she 
 ■ :e iS r\\, was only a private gentleman 
 w>th diminished fortunes; and at this time, however, any gloomy 
 >hts which may have occurred to her cere dispel ed by the 
 simshme of Nelson's presence, and by the daily increasing know- 
 ledge that the great little Admiral depended upon her smiles and 
 sympathy for happiness. Nelson, for his distinguished services as 
 irver of the two Sicilies,” had received the Dukedom of 
 Bronte from the grateful King, and had been created a peer of 
 tvngland as a reward for his victory at the Nile. While the 
 - noi was still at Palermo ' afore returning to Naples, he had not 
 ' • come enervated by the love and passion which now 
 
 He had chased a French fleet and 
 
 c ■ • a great battleship called U Gininux. But now his work 
 
 .r the time being in the Mediterranean, and he was free 
 > to vngland, and to In poor patient wife who'was await- 
 ing nun so anxiously at home. It would have been better for him 
 he had made his homeward voyage without delay; but he 
 
 lingered on, unwilling to sever himself from the company of the 
 
 l ; tons ’ and s l ,ent several weeks in cruising round Sicily and 
 Malta with the Hamiltons on board his flagship It was during 
 
 U ' e ; >'*> no doubt > that this intimacy with Lady Hamilton 
 ripened into something warmer than Platonic friendship. Con. 
 stantly in the company of the beautiful woman who had seemed 
 to him ” incomparable and divine,” the impressionable suitor forp :,t 
 t e faith he had sworn to another woman whom he had once 
 sincerely loved. There is no record of what took place during that 
 cruise which so altered his relations to Lady Hamilton, and it 
 is impossible to say upon whose side lay the burden of the fault 
 
 92 
 
 
 
LADY HAMILTON. BY ROMNEY. 
 
 From the original painting. 
 
 By kind permission of the owner, The Earl of Wcmyss. 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 which is the gravest blemish upon the noble reputation of one of 
 England’s greatest heroes. Doubtless, under the blue sky and on 
 the placid sea, this man of battles, and this woman of many 
 weaknesses, became the victims of a passion which had begun in 
 honour and mutual reverence, and was to end in a guilty and 
 secret bond of body and soul. From the date of that fateful 
 voyage, Lord Nelson and Lady Hamilton became all in all to each 
 other, and in that intimacy and communion, beautiful and 
 ennobling if it had been founded upon moral law, they remained 
 until death came between them. 
 
 Upon returning to Palermo at the end of May, 1800, Nelson was 
 invited by the Queen to take her to Leghorn with her four children, 
 and as the Hamiltons agreed to accompany them, en route for 
 England, the Admiral was not loth to accept the Queen’s proposi- 
 tion. Upon their arrival at Leghorn they found that place in a state 
 of wild commotion owing to the approach of a French army, and 
 the Queen’s party found it discreet to leave the Royal Palace for the 
 greater safety of H.M.S. Alexander , which was now flying Nelson’s 
 flag. The Queen decided to go to Vienna, and again Nelson and 
 the Hamiltons were persuaded to accompany her. The journey 
 was really a triumphant progress for the great Admiral, whose 
 victory at the Nile had been the severest blow to Napoleon’s 
 ambitions ; and the Hamiltons shared in the extraordinary demon- 
 strations of homage. At every town where they stopped they were 
 received with popular ovations and sumptuous fetes, and upon their 
 arrival at Vienna, the Austrian Court, including the Emperor and 
 Empress and all the great nobles, arranged a long succession of 
 festivities in their honour. Lady Hamilton was treated with as 
 much respect as if she were a reigning Queen, and her marvellous 
 beauty was the theme of everyone’s conversation. For nearly a 
 month they remained at Vienna, and then, on the 27th of Septem- 
 ber, 1800, the Hamiltons bade farewell to Maria Caroline with 
 
 93 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 whose fortunes their own had been so intimately associated, whose 
 House they had served with a long fidelity, and with whom they 
 had enjoyed a friendship of the most intimate and cordial character. 
 Nelson still accompanied his friends, and on their way to Hamburg, 
 where they expected to find a frigate to convey them to England, 
 they stopped at Prague and Dresden, where they again experienced 
 all the triumph of public ovation. Then at last, after ten days at 
 Hamburg waiting for a vessel homeward bound, they crossed the sea 
 and arrived at Great Yarmouth on the 6th of November. Even now 
 Nelson could not tear himself away from the company of Sir William 
 and Lady Hamilton, and the fellow travellers journeyed slowly to 
 London, through towns where Nelson first learnt the love which 
 the English people had for him, through villages where old men 
 brought their little grandchildren to gaze on the great Admiral who 
 had thrashed the French, through one long echoing cheer from 
 English throats for the hero of the Nile. Thus they came to 
 London, where they now separated, Sir William and Lady Hamilton 
 to find a temporary dwelling-place in Grosvenor Square, where a 
 friend had placed his home at their disposal, Lord Nelson to go to 
 Nerot’s Hotel, in King Street, where an anxious wife, who had 
 heard many strange tales of his association with a fair enchantress, 
 awaited him with a troubled and heavy heart. 
 
 The happiest and most brilliant days of Lady Hamilton’s life 
 were at an end. The years that were to follow in England were 
 not without their hours of exultation and secret ecstasy, for the love 
 of Nelson, who was to rise to great heights of fame, was 
 a wonderful gift to a woman who craved for love, and was eager to 
 share in the glory of her lover. But they were years also of 
 feverish excitement, of constant anxiety, of disappointed ambition, 
 and if we may read her character rightly, of secret shame. For 
 the shadow of sin obscured the sunshine of a love that might have 
 been so glorious, and in her heart Emma Hamilton knew that she 
 had fallen again from the virtue which, in spite of her early lapses 
 through ignorance and circumstance, she had always cherished. 
 
 94 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 Chapter VI. 
 
 C RD NELSON’S relations with his wife must have been exceed- 
 ingly uncomfortable from the very first day of their meeting 
 after so long an absence. It seems that Lady Nelson at first 
 endeavoured to hide her feelings towards the woman for whom 
 her husband showed such an extraordinary regard, and of whom 
 many scandalous stories had no doubt reached her ears. Although 
 Nelson himself, simple soul that he was, probably had not the least 
 idea at this time that his liason with Lady Hamilton had become a 
 matter of public gossip, it is certain that it already afforded a 
 subject for malicious tongues and scandalous pens in London. 
 Stories of the early years of the famous beauty’s career, grossly 
 exaggerated, and, where facts failed, audaciously invented by 
 scurrilous wits, were in active circulation. Club men whispered 
 abominations from ear to ear, and husbands told their wives at 
 home that they had better be careful of Lady Hamilton if they 
 should meet her in Society. Human nature would have been 
 different then than now if some of these suggestive tales had not 
 been confided to Lady Nelson herself by “kind friends” who 
 “ thought it right that she should know.” Perhaps she was wise 
 and charitable enough not to believe the insinuations against her 
 great husband until she could form her own opinion on the subject, 
 and for this reason she did not refuse to meet the Hamiltons as he so 
 ardently desired. But when she did see Lord Nelson in the com- 
 pany of the beautiful woman, whose name was on everybody’s lips, 
 she saw with a woman’s intuition, sharpened by the jealousy of a 
 wife, that there was a secret understanding between them in which 
 
 95 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 she had no share. This revelation came to her at the theatre, where 
 the Hamiltons shared a box with them, and, overcome by a sudden 
 emotion, she fell back in a faint. This incident, which did not pass 
 unnoticed, afforded fresh gossip for the Society scandal-mongers, 
 and their excitement was still further increased a few weeks later 
 when they learnt that Lord Nelson had accompanied Sir William 
 and Lady Hamilton to a Christmas house party at Fonthill, in 
 Cheshire (given by Sir William’s cousin, Mr. Vathek Beckford) while 
 Lady Nelson remained alone in town. Then there came to London 
 in private letters, which soon became food for public tittle-tattle, 
 numerous descriptions (highly coloured no doubt) of the various 
 incidents that had taken place during those country festivities. 
 Lord Nelson had travelled down in the Hamiltons’ company, and 
 upon being received at the steps by all the assembled guests to the 
 strains of “God save the King” and “Rule Britannia,” he had 
 entered the house with Lady Hamilton on his arm. During the 
 whole of the visit he had no eyes (or perhaps one should say, no 
 eye) for anyone but Sir William’s wife. They had been seen 
 frequently together in intimate conversation. His reverence and 
 admiration for her was most noticeable to every observer. It was 
 perfectly evident that the great Admiral worshipped the very 
 ground under Lady Hamilton’s feet. So ran the gossip of the day ; 
 and again, no doubt, there were kind friends of Lady Nelson who 
 communicated these facts to her in delicate consideration of her 
 feelings. Upon Nelson’s return to town the relations with his wife 
 were more strained than before. A quarrel took place over the 
 dinner table. Nelson alluded to his “dear Lady Hamilton,” and all 
 the jealousy, the just jealousy of an injured wife, broke out in a 
 passionate protest that she was tired of hearing about “that 
 woman,” and that he must choose between them, for she would 
 have all of Nelson’s heart or none of it. This domestic drama, 
 tragic for all concerned, had reached its inevitable crisis. Nothing 
 
 96 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 could patch up a peace between husband and wife, for Lord Nelson 
 was bound to Lady Hamilton by secret ties of intimacy from which 
 he could not release himself without tearing out his own heart. It 
 was therefore agreed by Lord and Lady Nelson that they should 
 separate, and from the beginning of 1801 Nelson never lived with 
 his wife again. He was not ungenerous to the woman he had 
 wronged, and settled £1,600 a year upon her, a handsome allowance 
 which at least ensured her all outward comforts, though her inward 
 happiness may have been destroyed. Poor Lady Nelson has been 
 dealt with hardly and unsympathetically by the enthusiastic 
 admirers of her great husband, yet one’s pity must go out to the 
 quiet, commonplace woman who failed to satisfy the ideals and 
 sentiments of our naval hero. 
 
 The Hamiltons removed from their friend’s house in Grosvenor 
 Square to a house of their own in Piccadilly, which became Lord 
 Nelson’s home whenever he was in town with them. Sir 
 William Hamilton was at this time in a somewhat impecunious 
 condition, as it was some little time before he succeeded in 
 obtaining a pension of £1,200 a year from the Government. 
 Lady Hamilton voluntarily sold her diamonds to pay part of the 
 expense of moving into the new residence, and Sir William 
 parted with a good many of his pictures. Lord Nelson had some- 
 thing to say to Emma on both these subjects in his letters to 
 her. He was indignant with Sir William in allowing her to sell 
 her jewels, and as for the pictures, “ I would have starved,” he 
 said, “before I would have sold a picture of you. I wonder Sir 
 William could do it.” 
 
 Both Sir William and Lady Hamilton were at this time 
 indulging in ambitions, and putting forward claims for past 
 services, which only led to much feverish excitement and ended 
 in disappointment. The ex-Ambassador demanded compensation 
 from the Government for the losses he had sustained in the 
 
 97 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 Neapolitan revolution, but he did not succeed in extracting 
 a penny on this account from the Treasury. Then his 
 wealthy cousin Vathek Beckford, a man who had been under 
 a social cloud for a time, entered into a plot with Sir William 
 Hamilton for buying in peerages, both for Sir William and him- 
 self, agreeing to pay £2,000 a year to the former if his influence 
 proved successful. At that time it was not impossible to buy a 
 peerage, or to obtain it through political influence, but Sir 
 William Hamilton either did not know the right strings to pull, 
 or Vathek Beckford’s offers did not tempt the politicians then 
 in power. Be that as it may, the scheme fell to the ground, so 
 that the fair Emma was baulked of her ambition of being a peeress. 
 
 In their renewal of London life, the Hamiltons lived in a style 
 of great extravagance, entertaining lavishly, and indulging in such 
 luxuries as carriages and horses and many servants. For this 
 Nelson again rebuked Sir William in one of his letters to Lady 
 Hamilton, who had recently been complaining of their poverty ; but 
 it is more than probable that Emma herself was the active partner 
 in this ostentatious display, eager in her desire to play the same 
 role in London society which she had so brilliantly enacted in 
 Italy. It hurt her very much that the Queen, who had heard all 
 the scandal of the town regarding her reputation, would not 
 receive her at Court. This, of course, alienated many ladies of 
 fashion from her drawing-room, and placed her to a certain 
 extent in a dubious social position. Nevertheless, a great number 
 of distinguished ladies, who were not so much influenced by 
 Court example, and who were ready to enjoy a hospitality so 
 enjoyable as that of the Hamiltons, gave a sufficient eclat to 
 her salon, and Lord Nelson’s presence alone was naturally the 
 means of attracting a crowd of great people to bask in his glory. 
 Probably at this time Nelson’s separation from his wife had not 
 leaked out beyond his intimate circle and family, and as for the 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 rumours of his relations with Lady Hamilton, propriety itself was 
 satisfied by the fact that Sir William still lived on the most 
 affectionate terms with his wife, and regarded Lord Nelson with 
 the utmost reverence and cordiality. Then, too, the Nelson 
 family — good Mrs. Nelson, the wife of his clergyman brother, a 
 lady of the most old-fashioned virtue and respectability, did not 
 refuse her friendship to Lady Hamilton, and Mrs. Matcham, the 
 Admiral’s sister, was equally friendly with the woman who had 
 been the means of separating Lord Nelson and his wife. So, 
 on the whole, Lady Hamilton was not too dissatisfied with her 
 position in London, and, indeed, considering the great secret 
 which she was hiding at this time, it may well have been a 
 cause for much thankfulness. 
 
 That she should have been able to keep that secret from her own 
 husband, and from the world, must always be an amazing thing. 
 Towards the end of January, 1801, a fortnight after Nelson had left 
 London for Plymouth to prepare an expedition to the Baltic, Lady 
 Hamilton gave birth to a child, and, according to the story told by 
 the nurse many years afterwards, she took the tiny girl secretly, 
 by night, in a hackney coach, and quite unattended, to No. 9, Little 
 Tichfield Street, Marylebone, where she confided it to the care of a 
 Mrs. Gibson, who minded it until Sir William Hamilton’s death. 
 Although much ink has been spilt over this historic baby, and the 
 lack of absolute evidence has caused the story of its birth to be a 
 subject of embittered controversy, there can hardly be a doubt that 
 little Horatia Nelson Thompson, as the child was christened, was 
 really the daughter of Emma Hamilton. And there can be no 
 doubt whatever that Lord Nelson himself fully believed that he 
 was the father of this child by Lady Hamilton. Many writers, 
 jealous for Nelson’s good name, have endeavoured to make out that 
 Lady Hamilton foisted somebody else’s child upon the simple hero 
 in order to have a greater hold upon his feelings, and, as some have 
 
 99 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 not scrupled to say, upon his purse. There is no need to go into all 
 the details of an historical discussion that was rather ingenious 
 than profitable. It must be clear to everyone who has read the 
 Nelson and Hamilton letters that the great Admiral acknowledged 
 little Horatia as his own, and what he believed is surely beyond the 
 doubt of others ? The story that he was able to see his child 
 before leaving England for his great battle in the Baltic seems 
 likely enough, for it is known that he made a flying visit to London 
 from Plymouth. Afterwards, when doing his duty at sea, he wrote 
 frequently to Lady Hamilton, and from these private and intimate 
 letters we learn more of his relations with the woman who had 
 taken possession of his heart. For a time, fearing lest his letters 
 might fall into wrong hands, Lord Nelson maintained a fiction 
 which it is easy to read through now that we have the clue to it. 
 Whenever he alluded to himself or to Lady Hamilton in connection 
 with their secret love and the fruit of that love, it was under the 
 name of Mr. and Mrs. Thompson (or Thomson as he spelt it, 
 indifferently). He made out that he had this Thompson on board 
 his ship, and had to console him for being parted from his wife and 
 new-born infant. 
 
 “ I have seen and talked much with Mrs. Thomson’s friend,” he 
 writes, in March, 1800. “The fellow seems to eat all my words 
 when I talk of her and his child. He says he can never forget our 
 goodness and kind affection to her and his dear, dear child. I have 
 had, you know, the felicity of seeing it, and a finer child never was 
 produced by any two persons. It was, in truth, a love-begotten 
 child ! I am determined to keep him on board ; for I know if they 
 got together they would soon have another. But after our two 
 months’ trip I hope they will never be separated ; and then let 
 them do as they please.” There are many such references to the 
 mysterious Thompson, and there have been biographers of Lord 
 Nelson simple enough to believe that this person actually existed, 
 
 100 
 
Emma, Lady HamiHo* 
 
 
 
 not scrtip to say, >oa his purse. 1 here is no need to go into all 
 
 Ii nust be c iar to ever /one who has read the 
 
 lit 1 ioratia as i.s own. and what be e> -i-urely beyond the 
 doubt of others. The story that he was able to see his child 
 before leaving England for his great battle in the Baltic seems 
 likely enough, for it is known that he made a flying visit to London 
 from Plymouth. Afterwards, when doing his duty at sea, he wrote 
 frequently to Lady Hamilton, and from these private and intimate 
 
 . 
 
 taken possession of his heart. For a time, fearing lest his letters 
 might fall into wrong hands, Loi i Mel on maintained a fiction 
 which it is easy to read th'r -ugl now th fc v : ve the clue to it. 
 
 senever he a;’u ed r m \ on in connection 
 
 ret love and th« fruit of tl it k>v« it was under the 
 and rs. Thompson (or h i r »r a* hi spelt it, 
 He m ie out that he had this Thompson on board 
 h; - ship, and had to console him for being parted from his wife and 
 new-born infant. 
 
 “ I have seen and talked much with Mrs. Thomson’s friend,” he 
 writes, in March, 1800. “The fellow seems to eat all my words 
 when ! talk of her and his child. He says e c;< never forget our 
 goodness and kind affection to her and hi.s de r ?; ch d. I have 
 aad, you know, the felicity of seeing it, and a k never w'as 
 
 o^uced by any two per s. wa ve-begotten 
 
 c rid ! 1 am determined to ep id ; I know if they, 
 
 got together they would o< n h it e . But after our two 
 
 months trip I hope they v ill never be separated ; and then let 
 / m do as they please There are many such references to the 
 nr rerious ’hompson, and there have been biographers of Lord 
 Me; simple enough to believe that this person actually existed, 
 
 
 
LADY HAMILTON AS A NUN PRAYING. 
 
 BY GEORGE ROMNEY. 
 
 By kind permission oj the owner, Tankerville Chamberlayne, Esq., M .P 
 

A Biographical Essay 
 
 that his wife was a protegee of Lady Hamilton, and that his infant 
 was Lord Nelson’s god-child. But the fiction is so transparent 
 that one can hardly realise such credulity, and other phrases in 
 Lord Nelson’s letters when he dropped disguise clearly reveal the 
 truth. His language was that of an ardent lover, and he 
 acknowledged again and again the secret tie that bound them to 
 one another. 
 
 “I have been the world around,” he writes in February, 1801, 
 “ and in every corner of it, and never yet saw your equal, 
 never one which could be put in comparison with you.” In 
 the following month he writes, “ You cannot think how my 
 feelings are alive towards you, probably more than ever : and 
 they never can be diminished. My hearty endeavours shall not 
 be wanting to improve and to give us new ties of regard and 
 affection.” He ends the letter as “ for ever, ever yours, only 
 yours.” 
 
 In May of the same year he writes, “ I assure you, my dear 
 Emma, and I feel a thorough conviction, that we shall meet 
 again, with honours, titles and health, and remain together to a 
 good old age. I look at your and my god-child’s picture; but 
 till I am sure of remaining here I cannot bring myself to hang 
 them up. Be assured that my attachment and affectionate 
 regard is unalterable ; nothing can shake it ! And pray say so 
 to my dear Mrs. T. [Thomson] when you see her. Tell her 
 that my love is unbounded to her and her sweet child ; and if 
 she should have more, it will extend to all of them. In short, 
 my dear Emma, say everything to her which your dear and 
 affectionate heart and head can think of.” 
 
 In one letter, written in the Spring of 1801, there is no allusion 
 to “ Mr. Thomson,” and the Admiral threw off all disguise, 
 knowing that the letter would be delivered safely to Lady 
 Hamilton by a trusted friend. 
 
 101 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 “ Now, my own dear Wife,” it runs, “ for such you are in my 
 eyes and in the face of heaven, I can give full scope to my 
 feelings, for I dare say Oliver will faithfully deliver this letter. 
 You know, my dearest Emma, that there is nothing in this 
 world that I would not do for us to live together and to have 
 our dear little child with us ... I love, never did love anyone 
 else. I never had a dear pledge of love till you gave me one, 
 and you, thank my God, never gave one to anybody else. I 
 think before March is out you will see us back, or so victorious 
 that we shall insure a glorious issue of our toils. Think what 
 my Emma would feel at seeing return safe, perhaps with a little 
 more fame, her own dear loving Nelson.” Then in a postscript 
 added next day, he says, “ Kiss and bless our dear Horatia — 
 think of that.” 
 
 From this letter it becomes perfectly clear that the “ Thomson ” 
 story was a mere blind, and that Nelson rejoiced in having 
 Horatia as a pledge of love. And it is also clear from one phrase 
 that Lady Hamilton had not at this time confessed to him that 
 she had had a child many years before — the “ little Emily,” 
 whose fate is still a mystery. 
 
 After the battle of the Baltic, Nelson did return “ with a little 
 more fame,” and he was able for a brief time to enjoy his 
 Emma’s company again. But it was not for long, for England 
 needed him, and, whatever his weakness may have been, he never 
 languished in the arms of love when duty called him. Before 
 he went to sea again he commissioned Emma to find a country 
 house for him in a quiet spot, to which the Hamiltons might 
 retire whenever they wanted a rest from town, and where, during 
 his brief spells on shore, he might enjoy their society without 
 objectionable publicity. Lady Hamilton entered into her task 
 with delight, and scoured the suburbs for a likely residence. 
 After much searching she selected a commodious, old-fashioned 
 
 102 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 villa at Merton, with good grounds, which she felt was the very 
 place to suit Lord Nelson’s tastes. Here, Sir William and Lady 
 Hamilton stayed with Mrs. Cadogan, the old mother who 
 continued to flourish and to earn the golden opinions of her 
 daughter’s husband and friends. Nelson himself had a high 
 regard for her, and never failed to send her his compliments. 
 From Merton, Sir William wrote to his friend whom he still 
 honoured and revered. “ We have now inhabited your Lordship’s 
 premises some days,” wrote the old gentleman, “and I can now 
 speak with some certainty. I have lived with dear Emma 
 several years. I know her merit, have a great opinion of the 
 head and heart that God Almighty has been pleased to give her ; 
 but, a seaman alone could have given a woman full power to 
 choose and fit up a residence for him without seeing it himself. 
 You are in luck, for in my conscience I very believe that a 
 place so suitable to your views could not have been found, and 
 at so cheap a rate. ... It would make you laugh to see Emma 
 and her mother fitting up pigstyes and hencoops, and already 
 the canal is enlivened with ducks, and the cock is strutting 
 with his hens about the walks. Your Lordship’s plan as to 
 stocking the canal with fish is exactly mine, and I will answer 
 for it that in a few months you may command a good dish of 
 fish at a moment’s warning.” 
 
 Lord Nelson had been miserably ill on board ship, and it is rather 
 startling to find this great sailor complaining that “ I am so dread- 
 fully sea-sick that I can hardly hold up my head.” But Lady 
 Hamilton’s letters cheered him up : 
 
 “ The moment I got your letters, off I came, and have read them 
 with real pleasure. They have made me much better, I think ; at 
 least I feel so. 
 
 I admire the pigs and poultry. Sheep are certainly most beneficial 
 to eat off the grass. Do you get paid for them ; and take care that 
 
 103 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 they are kept on the premises all night, for that is the time they do 
 good to the land. They should be folded. Is your head man a good 
 person, and true to our interest ? I intend to have a farming book. 
 I am glad to hear you get fish ; not very good ones, I fancy. 
 
 It is, I thank God, only six days before I shall be with you, and to 
 be shewn all the beauties of Merton. I shall like it leaves or no 
 leaves. 
 
 No person then can take amiss our not visiting. The answer 
 from us will always be very civil thanks, but that I wish to live 
 retired. We shall have our sea friends ; and I know Sir William 
 thinks they are the best.” 
 
 It was on the 22nd of October, 1801, that Nelson went to Merton 
 House, after having spent three months in the Downs guarding the 
 English coast from invasion. It was his longest spell on shore 
 between his return from Italy and his death on board the Victory, 
 and lasted for one year and six months, during which time he was 
 constantly in the Hamiltons’ company. He was perfectly delighted 
 with the house and grounds at Merton, and spent many pleasant 
 weeks in devising new improvements to the place which he looked 
 forward to in the future as the home of the wife and children which 
 he believed would be his when time should inevitably “ remove the 
 impediments.” But in spite of his preconceived idea to live “ in 
 retirement,” those eighteen months on shore were full of social 
 distractions and festivities in his honour. He was too great a hero 
 with English Society for them to leave him alone. For poor old 
 Sir William Hamilton, old in body and mind, though not so stricken 
 in years as older men who were far more youthful, such gaiety and 
 bustle were not agreeable. He was not allowed to end his days in 
 peace, but had to play the host at continual entertainments at his 
 town house during the season, and was rattled about England in a 
 triumphant tour made by Lord Nelson, with his brother the clergy- 
 man, and his brother’s wife, and, of course, with Lady Hamilton her- 
 
 104 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 self. Sir William’s nerves were now irritable, and there were 
 constant altercations between husband and wife on account of all 
 this entertainment. It was the same old story of crabbed old age and 
 blooming youth. In a pathetic letter which he placed in his wife’s 
 room Sir William acknowledged this melancholy fact : “ I am 
 arrived at the age,” he said, “ when some repose is really necessary, 
 and I promised myself a quiet home, altho’ I was sensible, and said 
 so when I married, that I should be superannuated when my wife 
 would be in her full beauty and vigour of youth. That time is now 
 arrived, and we must make the best of it for both parties. Unfor- 
 tunately our tastes as to the manner of living are very different.” 
 In this letter Sir William proposed “a wise and well concerted 
 separation,” but he was careful to add, somewhat inconsistently 
 perhaps, that he had no complaint to make, although he felt that 
 his wife’s whole attention was given to Lord Nelson and his 
 interests at Merton. “ I well know the purity of Lord Nelson’s 
 friendship for Emma and me. And I know how very uncomfortable 
 it would make his Lordship, our best Friend, if such a separation 
 should take place, and am therefore determined to do all in my 
 power to prevent such an extremity, which would be extremely 
 detrimental to all parties, but would be more sensibly felt by our 
 dear Friend than by us.” 
 
 Lady Hamilton must have been much moved by this letter. 
 Although she was guilty of secret intimacy with Nelson, we can 
 well believe that she still had affection for the husband who had 
 been so consistently kind and generous towards her during their 
 years of married life. His affection, as well as, no doubt, her own 
 interest, induced her to humour her husband, and consult his 
 wishes more tenderly, so that the domestic friction ceased and the 
 last months of Sir William Hamilton’s life were more placid and 
 happy. 
 
 His death came somewhat suddenly in April of the year 1803. 
 
 105 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 For six nights Lord Nelson sat with his friend during his last 
 illness, and Lady Hamilton did all that a loving wife should to 
 alleviate his suffering and soothe his failing mind. To the very 
 end he had no suspicion of his wife or friend, and when he died it 
 was with his hands clasped in theirs. 
 
 Generous to Lady Hamilton in life, he took care that she should 
 be well provided for after his death. The bulk of his fortune went 
 to Charles Greville, whom he had always regarded as his heir, but 
 his widow received £800 at once, and an annuity of the same sum, 
 as well as all the plate and furniture of his town house to the value 
 of £5,000. Besides this he had hoped and expected that on account 
 of her services to the nation, part at least of his pension should be 
 continued to Lady Hamilton by the Government. In this idea 
 Nelson himself had always supported him, believing that his own 
 influence and the good offices of Queen Maria Caroline of Naples, 
 would be sufficient to induce the Ministry to grant, say, £500 a 
 year for life, to a woman whom Nelson regarded as having con- 
 tributed, to no small extent, to his victory of the Nile, by enabling 
 his ships to water and take in supplies at Syracuse, and whom he 
 justly credited as having been the right hand of Sir William 
 Hamilton during his Neapolitan crisis, when the Ambassador’s 
 powers were failing on account of his ill-health. Lady Hamilton 
 herself considered these claims fully entitled her to a Government 
 pension, and until the end of her life, especially after Lord Nelson’s 
 death, she left no stone unturned to establish them. But in spite 
 of Nelson’s great influence, the Ministry turned a deaf ear to these 
 appeals. The Admiral wrote to the Queen of Naples begging her to 
 support Lady Hamilton’s case, and reminding her of her former 
 friend’s services to both countries. But to the annoyance of 
 Nelson, and the disappointment of Lady Hamilton, Maria Caroline 
 was one of those people who fulfil the old proverb that absence is 
 the grave of love. While Lady Hamilton had been at Naples nothing 
 
 106 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 had been too much to do her honour, but now the Queen responded 
 in a cold and guarded manner to Lord Nelson’s letter, and did not 
 go to any trouble in supporting Lady Hamilton’s claims. 
 
 Nevertheless, Emma was by no means reduced to poverty by Sir 
 William’s death. £800 a year was by no means a beggarly income 
 as money went in those days, besides which Nelson made Lady 
 Hamilton a generous allowance during his lifetime. 
 
 Six weeks after Sir William’s death, Nelson was again ordered off 
 on active service as Commander-in-Chief on the Mediterranean 
 Station, and on the eighteenth of May he hoisted his flag on the 
 Victory at Portsmouth. For nearly two years he never set foot on 
 shore, and during all that time he was doing “sentry-go” in the 
 Mediterranean, waiting to destroy the French fleet under 
 Villeneuve whenever it should slip out of the harbour of Toulon 
 for the attempted invasion of England. Only once more was he to 
 have a brief spell on shore, and when he said the next farewell to 
 Emma and their child, it was to go to his last great victory and 
 his death. 
 
 During his long absence Lady Hamilton spent most of her time 
 at Merton, only leaving it for short visits to town, or to stay for a 
 while with Mrs. Nelson, the clergyman’s wife, in Norfolk. She 
 was still on excellent terms with all the Nelson family, and Mrs. 
 Nelson, who by all accounts was a most admirable lady, and very 
 strict as regards propriety, thought so highly of Lady Hamilton’s 
 good qualities that she entrusted her little daughter Charlotte 
 (afterwards Lady Charlotte Nelson and Duchess of Bronte) to 
 Emma’s care for a considerable time. Emma’s letters at this time 
 to Mrs. Nelson (now in possession of the Hon. Alexander Nelson 
 Hood) are full of Charlotte’s doings, and she was never tired of 
 praising the child’s beauty, good behaviour and diligence. It is 
 somewhat amusing indeed to contrast the matronly character and 
 the zeal for genteel etiquette of the middle-aged Emma with the 
 
 107 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 gay, easy mannered and high spirited Emma of the old days. Her 
 moral sentiments on the value of education, and her accounts of 
 the strict manner in which she coached Mrs. Nelson’s daughter in 
 all the elegancies and proprieties befitting a young lady of the 
 period, are somewhat startling when one remembers her own humble 
 origin and lax upbringing. These letters are also interesting as 
 shewing that Lady Hamilton was still received in the best Society, 
 and was still welcomed in many aristocratic drawing rooms on 
 account of her beauty and social charm. 
 
 In spite of the difficulty of communication from the Mediterranean, 
 Nelson corresponded with her in frequent and lengthy letters, and, 
 however busy she might be with Charlotte or Horatia (who was 
 now brought to Merton), or with her social distractions, she never 
 failed to give him all the news of her daily life in the most detailed 
 manner. In Nelson’s monotonous life on board the Victory the 
 arrival of those long budgets were his greatest source of joy. 
 
 “All your letters, my dear letters ,” he writes, “are so entertaining! 
 and which paint so clearly what you are after that they give me 
 either the greatest pleasure or pain. It is the next best thing to 
 being with you. 
 
 I only, desire, my dearest Emma, that you will always believe 
 that Nelson’s your own. Nelson’s Alpha and Omega is Emma ! I 
 cannot alter ; my affection and love is beyond even this world ! 
 Nothing can shake it, except yourself; and that I will not allow 
 myself to think, for a moment, is possible.’’ 
 
 In many of these letters Nelson looked forward to the time when 
 Lady Hamilton should be bound to him by marriage. 
 
 “ I rejoice that you have had so pleasant a trip to Norfolk,’’ he 
 writes, on August 20th, 1803, “ and I hope one day to carry you 
 there by a nearer tie in law, but not in love and affection, than at 
 present.’’ 
 
 Referring to Emma’s efforts to establish her claims for a pension, 
 
 108 
 

 Emma, LaJy . 
 
 gay, easy masncr d and hi h spirited Hmma'of the old days 
 k a sencunci ts on ti e value of e e tion, and her acco 
 
 •* v < drs. Nelson’s daugh * 
 
 V; * egancie* ; d propriety n a young lady of ti 
 
 * 
 
 <d iax upbringing. h, s a e also interesting a 
 
 ,r 1 1 * L d y Hamilton as si recd> id in the be t Society 
 
 stil welcomed in many aristocratic drawing rooms on 
 
 account of her beauty and social charm. 
 
 I n spite of the difficulty of communication from the Mediterranea n 
 Ne son corresponded with her in frequent and lengthy letters, an*! f 
 however busy she might be with Charlotte or Horatia (who was 
 ou brought to Merton), or with her social distractions, she never 
 failed to give him all the news of her daily life in the most detailed 
 in \e ion’s mon * k.e on board the Victory the 
 
 ' 
 
 the greatest pica mre or pain. It is the next best thing to 
 
 t ei , with . 
 
 i only, desire, my irest Emma, that you will always believe 
 that ’ e K>n yo own. Nelson’s Alpha and Omega is Emma / [ 
 
 ..am • a er; nvy affection and love is beyond even this world! 
 Nothing can shake it, except yourself; and that I will not allow 
 myself to think, for a moment, is possible.’' 
 
 In many of these letters Nelson looked forward to the time when 
 Lady Hamilton should be bound to him b' m ri .a. 
 
 1 rejoice that you have had so pleasant a trip to Norfolk,” he 
 writes, on August 20th r 1803, “and I hope one day to carr^ you 
 
 there by a nearer tie in law, but not in love and affection, than at 
 present.” 
 
 h t ni1 a > efforts to establish her claims for a pension 
 
LADY HAMILTON. BY ROMNEY. 
 
 
— 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 he writes on October 18th of the same year: “ If Mr. Addington 
 gives you the pension it is well, but do not let it fret you. Have 
 you not Merton ? It is clear — the first purchase — and my dear 
 Horatia is provided for ; and I hope one of these days that you will 
 be my own Duchess of Bronte ; and then a fig for them all.” 
 
 It is very touching to see in these letters how the Admiral’s heart 
 was filled with love for the little child whom he had only seen for a 
 few brief hours, but who drew out all the sailor’s tenderness and 
 sentiment. 
 
 “ Everything you tell me about my dear Horatia charms me,” he 
 writes, “I think I see her, hear her, and admire her; but she is 
 like her dear, dear mother.” 
 
 Our great naval hero, whose brain was busy and anxious with 
 the enormous responsibility of his task in guarding our shores from 
 invasion, could still think of such a small thing as the fencing of a 
 pond at Merton, so that little Horatia might be safe from the danger 
 of falling in. Referring to various alterations to be made in the 
 grounds of his house, he says, “I also beg, as my dear Horatia is to 
 be at Merton, that a strong netting, about three feet high, may be 
 placed round the ‘ Nile,’ that the little one may not tumble in ; and 
 then you may have ducks again in it. I forget at what place we saw 
 the netting ; and either Mr. Perry or Mr. Goldsmid told us where it 
 was to be bought. I shall be very anxious until I know this is 
 done.” 
 
 In the same letter he says: “ I shall, when I come home, settle 
 four thousand pounds in trustees’ hands for Horatia ; for I will not 
 put it in my own power to have her left destitute ; for she would 
 want friends if we left her in this world. She shall be independent 
 of any smile or frown ! ” 
 
 In a letter written on April 2nd, 1804, Nelson seems to throw 
 some light on the mystery of “little Emily,” of whose pathetic fate 
 so little is known since she was sent to boarding school by Greville, 
 
 109 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 and afterwards educated away from her mother by Sir William 
 Hamilton. It is very probable that Lady Hamilton confessed to 
 Nelson that she had been a mother before she gave Horatia to him 
 as “a pledge of love.” If that is so, it is evident that Nelson had 
 forgiven her, and in the letter that follows it can hardly be doubted 
 that he refers tenderly to the death of Lady Hamilton’s first child. 
 
 “ Captain Capel brought me your letters sent by the Thistle from 
 Gibraltar. I opened — opened — found none but December, and 
 early in January, I was in such an agitation ! At last I found one 
 without a date, which, thank God, told my poor heart that you was 
 recovering, but that Dear little Emma was no more ! and that 
 Horatia had been so ill — it altogether upset me. 
 
 “ But it was just at bedtime, and I had time to reflect, and be 
 thankful to God for sparing you and our dear Horatia. I am sure 
 the loss of one — much more both, would have drove me mad. I 
 was so agitated as it was, and I was glad it was night, and that 
 I could be with myself. 
 
 “ Kiss our dear Horatia for me : and tell her to be a dutiful and 
 good child ; and if she is that we shall always love her.” 
 
 Reading Lady Hamilton’s own letters at this time to Mrs. 
 Nelson and to the father of her child, it does not seem that she was 
 happy. She had not the temperament for widowhood, and Nelson’s 
 absence from her was a great grief. She was still sufficiently of 
 the old Emma to require the support of a man by her side, and as 
 she had pined in the absence of Greville, in her early days, and 
 later when Sir William went a-hunting, so now she was melancholy 
 and restless when Nelson was at sea. Knowing how ill he was, 
 for his letters were full of allusions to ill-health and distressing 
 complaints, and weary of the long and dreary time during which he 
 remained inactive in the Mediterranean, she would have been some- 
 thing less, or more, than a woman of warm heart, if she had not 
 occasionally pleaded with him to come home to her, at least for a 
 
 110 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 brief holiday. But Nelson, however strong his passion for her, had 
 one greater and dominant passion, the love of country and honour. 
 
 “ I know, my own dear Emma,” he wrote, in answer to one such 
 pleading, “ if she will let her reason have fair play, will say I am 
 right ; but she is, like Horatia, very angry if she cannot have her 
 own way.” Here Nelson is called upon, in the most honourable 
 manner, to defend his country ! “ Absence, to us, is equally painful ; 
 
 but if I had either stayed at home, or neglected my duty abroad, 
 would not my Emma have blushed for me ? She could never have 
 heard of my praises, and how the country looks up. I am writing, 
 my dear Emma, to reason the point with you ; and I am sure you 
 will see it in its true light. But I have said my say on this subject, 
 and will finish.” 
 
 Neither Nelson nor Lady Hamilton’s biographers had a right to 
 make too much of the natural longing for a woman to have her 
 lover at home, and the great seaman was wise enough to finish 
 when he had “ said his say.” Lady Hamilton cannot be accused 
 of any lack of patriotism, and there were others at this time, 
 without the same personal interests, who believed that Nelson 
 might very well be relieved for a while of his tedious, and, as the 
 public then thought, his inglorious task of watch-dog off Toulon. 
 Certainly, whatever Lady Hamilton said in her letters did not cause 
 any coldness in Nelson’s heart towards her. “ You may safely 
 rely,” he wrote, on January 13th, 1804, “that I can ever repeat with 
 truth, these words — for ever I love you, and only you, my Emma; 
 and, you may be assured, as long as you are the same to me, that 
 you are never absent a moment from my thoughts.” Again and 
 again he repeated with passionate warmth his expressions of 
 unalterable devotion. A great wave of tenderness flooded his soul 
 during the last year of his life, and in his lonely and weary time of 
 watching and waiting on the seas for his country’s enemies, he 
 delighted in thinking and writing of all that he could do with his 
 
 ill 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton . 
 
 money for the friends who had been kind to his Emma, for all his 
 relatives, and hers, for the servants who had been faithful to them, 
 for little Horatia, and even for the children who were the play- 
 mates of his child. There was but little news of his own to tell in 
 return for Emma’s long budgets, and his chief theme was “ That I 
 love you most dearly ; and hate the French most damnably.” He 
 looked forward with the utmost longing as well as with sublime 
 confidence to victory and peace, so that he might return home at 
 last and enjoy the domestic happiness of which he dreamed. 
 Meanwhile, in the cabin of the Victory, the fragile, one-armed, one- 
 eyed man sat solitary in meditation, seeing the image of a beautiful 
 woman’s face on the charts spread out before him, while the 
 vision of a little angel child hovered above him. Deep and tender 
 and pious thoughts welled up in the great seaman’s heart, and 
 inspired the pen with which he scratched out his messages to 
 Merton — that beautiful house of dreams so far away, and yet so 
 near to him in imagination. Yet he could not express all he 
 thought, partly because he was a plain seaman and partly because 
 he feared his letters might fall into wrong hands, as the frigates 
 and letters carrying his despatches were sometimes wrecked or 
 captured. 
 
 “I do not say all I wish; and which, my dearest, beloved 
 Emma — read that whoever opens this letter, and for what I care, 
 publish it to the world — your fertile imagination can readily 
 fancy I would say : but this I can say with great truth, that I 
 
 am FOR EVER YOURS.” 
 
 With such expressions Lady Hamilton may well have been 
 satisfied. There could have been no fear in her heart that this 
 great and simple hero was not all her own, or that he would not 
 place his glory at her feet, holding even glory cheap in comparison 
 to the gift of her beauty and love. Nevertheless, there was 
 inevitably one great haunting fear within her, from which she 
 
 112 
 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 could never get peace. What if Nelson died? Confident as he 
 was of victory, he was never one to put away the thought that 
 his life might be the price of victory. In that great sea fight, 
 which, sooner or later, must decide the destiny of England, when 
 Villeneuve should at last decide to leave the shelter of Toulon 
 and hurl his fleet against the British men-of-war, Nelson would 
 then as always be in the forefront of the battle, for he was not 
 one to plan out the attack only and leave his captains to bear 
 the brunt of shot and shell. Nelson was to be where the battle 
 raged most fiercely, and in his same old rash, heroic way, he 
 would expose his body to the enemy. Oh, horrid thought for 
 poor Emma, whose future happiness lay only in the hope of 
 having Nelson by her side, and to whom England’s safety and 
 England’s glory were even of less account to her than Nelson 
 in the living flesh ! 
 
 At last, on the 20th of August, 1805, Nelson paid a flying 
 visit to England, and had the great joy of holding Emma in his 
 arms. For a fortnight he revelled in the joys of a domestic life 
 which he knew would be interrupted all too soon by orders for 
 instant action. But he did not allow this knowledge to disturb 
 his absolute felicity, and he kept from Lady Hamilton all thought 
 of the early date at which they must again part. For the first 
 time in his life he realised all the joys of fatherhood, and, with 
 Emma and little Horatia, the days passed like a wonderful dream. 
 Then, very early on the morning of September 2nd, Captain 
 Blackwood, of the Euryalus, came post haste from the Admiralty, 
 with the momentous news that the combined French fleet had 
 put into Cadiz. All the fire of Nelson’s ardent spirit burst forth 
 at this message, which called him to duty. “ Depend on it 
 Blackwood,” he said, again and again, as the two friends paced 
 the garden at Merton, “ I shall give Monsieur Villeneuve a 
 drubbing.” For a time, according to Southey’s “ Life of Nelson,” 
 
 113 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 the great Admiral hesitated to break the news to Lady Hamilton, 
 and when he did so her emotion unmanned him for a while. 
 But Emma was not a woman to hold back such a lover as 
 Nelson from the path of duty, nor was Nelson a man to hesitate 
 for one moment between his domestic peace and his country’s 
 service. One can hardly credit the accuracy of the theatrical 
 language attributed in Southey’s “ Life ” to Lady Hamilton, nor 
 do the words supposed to have been spoken by Nelson ring true. 
 “ Brave Emma, good Emma ! ” He is also reported to have said, 
 when she urged him to leave her at once for battle and victory, 
 “ If there were more Emmas, there would be more Nelsons ! ” 
 But one can imagine that tender and impassioned words must 
 have passed between those two, who, in their own eyes at least, 
 were husband and wife, and the heart melts in one at the picture 
 of Nelson kneeling by the bedside of his little child for a fervent 
 prayer, and giving his last long embrace to the woman who was 
 all in all to him. Perhaps in his heart then, as certainly a few 
 days later, on the eve of battle, he had a premonition that he 
 was going to his death. 
 
 His last letter to Lady Hamilton was written on board the 
 Victory , off Cadiz, on October 19th, 1805, and none may read it 
 without emotion. 
 
 “ My dearest beloved Emma and the dear Friend of my bosom, 
 
 The signal has been made that the enemy’s combined fleet are 
 coming out of port. 
 
 We have very little wind, so that I have no hopes of seeing them 
 before to-morrow. May the God of Battles crown my endeavours 
 with success ! At all events, I shall take care that my name shall 
 ever be most dear to you and Horatia, both of whom I love as much 
 as my own life, and as my last writing before the battle will be to 
 you, so I hope in God that I shall live to finish my letter after the 
 battle. 
 
 114 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 May Heaven help you, prays your Nelson and Bronte. 
 
 October 20th, in the morning, we were close to the mouth of the 
 Straits, but the wind had not come far enough to the westward 
 to allow the combined fleets to weather the shoals of Trafalgar, but 
 they were counted as far as forty sail of ships of war which I suppose 
 to be thirty-four of the line and six frigates. A group of them was 
 seen off the lighthouse of Cadiz this morning, but it blows so very 
 fresh, I think [stormy] weather, that I rather believe they will go 
 into the harbour before night. 
 
 May God Almighty give us success over these fellows and enable 
 us to get a peace ! ” 
 
 There is no need to tell over again the story of Trafalgar, nor 
 how Nelson died an heroic death in the hour of his greatest 
 triumph, and of his most glorious victory. 
 
 The bells of England rang with joy for the shattering of the 
 enemy who had so long threatened our shores with the horrors of 
 invasion. But in the heart of every man, woman and child there 
 was mourning for the death of the Admiral whom they had loved. 
 When the joybells were ringing, that last letter of Nelson’s was 
 brought to the woman who had been in his dying thoughts, and she, 
 poor soul, in a passion of grief, knowing now that all she had hoped 
 and prayed for was at an end, turned down the last sheet, and in 
 her scrawling hand wrote the epitaph of her own heart : — 
 
 “ O miserable, wretched Emma ! 
 
 O glorious and happy Nelson ! ” 
 
 The remainder of Lady Hamilton’s life makes a sad and tragic 
 story, a story of strife and bickering, of disappointed ambitions and 
 vain hopes, of wild extravagance, of debt and difficulty, of foolish 
 words that had best be forgotten. 
 
 By his will Nelson had left her £500 a year out of his Bronte 
 estate, a sum punctually paid by the Nelson family in half-yearly 
 instalments, the receipts for which are still in the hands of the 
 
 115 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 Hon. Alexander Nelson Hood, the grandson of Lady Charlotte 
 Nelson. In addition to this she had from Nelson an immediate 
 legacy of £2,000, the possession of Merton Place, the interest on 
 the £4,000 settled on Horatia, and the annuity of £800 from Sir 
 William Hamilton. She was therefore fully and handsomely 
 provided for. But Lord Nelson, in bequeathing Emma and 
 Horatia to the care of his King and country, and in claiming 
 a pension for her by recounting in the codicil to his will the services 
 he believed her to have done at a memorable epoch of his career, 
 did much to unsettle Lady Hamilton’s mind, and to stir ambitions 
 in her which were never realised. The publication of this codicil 
 was a cause celebre in English Society, and there were many friends 
 of Lady Hamilton who injudiciously championed her cause, and 
 urged her on to make claims upon the Government which it did not 
 consider right or just. On the other hand there were many people 
 who violently denounced Lady Hamilton as an intriguing adven- 
 turess who deserved nothing but shame and penury. The heated 
 and deplorable controversies which raged over this subject natur- 
 ally inflamed a woman like Lady Hamilton with a sense that she 
 was being treated with cruel injustice. We may indeed allow that 
 she was treated with a meanness of which England should not 
 have been guilty — for Nelson’s sake alone. But Lady Hamilton 
 acted a foolish and injudicious part. She gained nothing but 
 ridicule and scorn by her palpable exaggerations of what she had 
 done for Nelson and England, and of all the losses she had suffered 
 during the Neapolitan Revolution. She deeply annoyed the Nelson 
 family, and alienated these, her best friends, by claiming more from 
 them than she had any right to expect, not having any legal title of 
 relationship, in spite of the undoubted fact that Nelson would have 
 made her his wife had he lived “ until the impediments were 
 removed.” Surrounded by false friends and flatterers, and 
 prompted perhaps by her melancholy and her disappointed 
 
 116 
 

A Biographical Essay. 
 
 ambitions, she lived at Merton, and at her town house in Clarges 
 Street, with such extravagance and foolish ostentation that, 
 as early as 1808, she was in great monetary difficulties, and 
 endeavouring to sell Merton Place. Her affairs were gone into by 
 a committee of friends who subscribed over £3,000 for her 
 immediate relief, on condition that she made over her country 
 house to them, in trust, to sell at their discretion for the satis- 
 faction of her creditors. After leaving Merton she removed to 
 Richmond, and afterwards to Bond Street, but, in spite of the 
 warnings of her well-wishers, she continued to get into debt to 
 such an extent that in the summer of 1813 she was actually 
 committed to the King’s Bench Prison. In this deplorable situa- 
 tion — almost more shameful, perhaps, to those who should have had 
 Nelson’s honour at heart than to herself— she was compelled to 
 remain for nearly a year. She was not in the prison strictly, 
 however, but permitted to reside at 12, Temple Place, “ within the 
 rules of the Bench.” Poor little Horatia was with her, and a few 
 staunch friends of Nelson and herself visited them at times. Only 
 a few letters have been published which Lady Hamilton wrote 
 during this melancholy time. In one of them, dated on the eve of 
 August 1st, 1813, an anniversary of the battle of the Nile, she 
 expresses her “pain and grief” in thinking of “the dear lamented 
 Chief. He could never have thought that his Child and myself 
 should pass the anniversary of that victorious day where we shall 
 pass it.” To a kind and wealthy friend, named Alderman J. J. 
 Smith, Lady Hamilton owed her release from an imprisonment that 
 had not been too severe, but was certainly both irksome and 
 ignominious. She was not, however, safe in England if she wished 
 to retain her newly-found liberty, for other writs were out against 
 her from relentless creditors. With the assistance of the same 
 good friend she was enabled to make her escape with Horatia on 
 board a small steamer bound for Calais, where they arrived safely. 
 
 117 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 She took up her residence in that town, and for a time recovered 
 some of her old spirits, though not the health she had formerly 
 enjoyed. Although most of her money had been swallowed up by 
 her host of greedy creditors she still had the use of the interest on 
 the £4,000 left for Horatia’s up-bringing, and which she conscien- 
 tiously used for the young girl’s education. It seems also that the 
 Nelson family still paid her the annuity of £500, so that she was 
 not so terribly indigent as some of her biographers have en- 
 deavoured to make out. Horatia went to a genteel day school kept 
 by an English lady, and, according to her mother, made rapid 
 progress in French and Italian, the harp and piano, and all “elegant 
 accomplishments.” Lady Hamilton herself enjoyed a little good 
 society among the English residents, and seems to have been fairly 
 happy for a time. But towards the end of the year 1813 she fell 
 seriously ill, and, while waiting for another instalment of the money 
 allowed her, was compelled to part with some of her trinkets, and 
 to take for her own use some of the money which should have been 
 used only for Horatia. So the sad tale comes to an end with her 
 death at the age of fifty-one, on, or about, the 15th of January, 
 1815, and with her burial, at the expense of a charitable English 
 lady, in the cemetery of Calais, in a plain deal coffin, and with but 
 a few witnesses to the simple and tragic ceremony. 
 
 Some time before her death she drew up a will, bequeathing 
 all her personal belongings and her souvenirs of Nelson to 
 Horatia. She appointed Mr. George Macham and the Hon. 
 George Ross as her executors, and as the guardians of “ Horatia 
 Nelson ” (she had now dropped the Thompson fiction), and, so 
 the will goes on : “ It is my wish that H.R. Highness, the Prince 
 
 Regent, or if before my death he shall become King, that he will 
 provide for the said Horatia in such a manner that she may live 
 as becomes the daughter of such a man as her victorious father 
 was; and as His Royal Highness often promised me that he 
 
 118 
 
Fa£njLtedL1bj r JeJ.Masifluieirneii*. Eu^3“ay?d WW?Sax 
 
 ILABlf 14M E ILTOMc 
 
 London. Published May 20?* 1806 by che Png raver 92 Horton Street. Pfa.ylebone 
 

 
 
A Biographical Essay. 
 
 would have me remunerated, when he had it in his power, for 
 the services that I have rendered my King and Country, and as 
 I have never been remunerated, nor even received one sixpence 
 from Government, let me on my knees beg of His Royal Highness 
 to provide for the said Horatia Nelson, the only child of the 
 Great and Glorious Nelson. And I beg, after my death, that a 
 copy of this, my last will and testament, may be sent to His 
 Royal Highness, the Prince Regent, or if he is King, it may be 
 sent to His Majesty, for his high honour and probity, and the 
 friendship which he had for Nelson, will induce him to protect 
 his child for me. H.R.H. always showed me the greatest kind- 
 ness, and for the sake of Sir William Hamilton, whom His 
 Royal Highness so highly honoured, that he will provide for the 
 orphan Horatia. When my head is laid low she will want pro- 
 tection, therefore, to God Almighty, to His Royal Highness, 
 and to my Executors, I most earnestly recommend her on my 
 knees, blessing her, and praying for her, that she may be happy, 
 virtuous, good, and amiable, and that she may remember all the 
 kind instructions and good advice I have given her, and may she 
 be what her great and immortal father wished her to be, brought 
 up with virtue, honour, religion, and rectitude. Amen, Amen, Amen.” 
 From this remarkable document it may be noticed that 
 although Lady Hamilton repeatedly mentioned Horatia as the 
 only child of Nelson, she never once acknowledged her as her 
 own daughter. At the time the will was written (September 
 4th, 1811), she still had hopes of receiving a pension from the 
 Government, and she was therefore careful not to endanger her 
 claims upon the Government’s gratitude to Sir William Hamilton 
 and Nelson by putting forward a fact which, for the sake of 
 them both, was best concealed. It is said that she even went 
 further, and actually denied in writing that she was the mother 
 of Horatia, maintaining that the child’s real mother was “ too 
 
 119 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 great to be mentioned, but her father, mother, and Horatia, had 
 a true and virtuous friend in Emma Hamilton.” No serious 
 consideration need be given to a statement so utterly disproved 
 by all the known facts, and by the letters of Lord Nelson 
 himself. It must be admitted that at this time Lady Hamilton’s 
 mental balance was overthrown, and that in her disappointed 
 ambition and distress of fortune she made many wild statements 
 that had no foundation of truth. 
 
 The mind turns from the sadness of Lady Hamilton’s last 
 years to those earlier days, when, as the fair, vivacious, and 
 lovable Emma, she had lived a simple life with Greville at 
 Paddington Green, and to the time when, at Naples and Palermo, 
 she reached the zenith of her fortune, reigning as the acknowledged 
 Queen of Beauty, the friend and counsellor of Maria Caroline, 
 the faithful wife of Sir William Hamilton, and the still virtuous 
 admirer of Horatio Nelson. We do well to forget the decay of 
 her beauty, and the somewhat squalid circumstances of her end, 
 remembering only the perfect loveliness of those features which 
 Romney painted, and the splendour of her summer-time of 
 womanhood. And so also to all charitable minds it is better to 
 deal mercifully with her many frailties and faults, bearing in mind 
 the natural goodness of her heart, in spite of her unhappy 
 experiences of the world’s wickedness, the simplicity which she 
 preserved so long in the midst of a corrupt Court, and, above all, 
 the remarkable strength of character, the wonderful intelligence 
 and tact which enabled her to rise from the humblest rank to a 
 high position, and to maintain it with perfect dignity. The career 
 of Lady Hamilton, apart altogether from her connection with 
 Nelson, is full of romance, and a striking testimony to her charm 
 and wit ; but as long as the English nation reverence the memory 
 of their greatest seaman, so also should they think not unkindly 
 of the woman whom he loved more than his own life. 
 
 120 
 
List of Engravings. 
 
 E r OP PRINCIPAL ENGRAVINGS, AFTER 
 PORTRAITS OF LADY HAMILTON, 
 
 BY ROMNEY, REYNOLDS, AND OTHER ARTISTS. 
 
 ENGRAVINGS AFTER GEORGE ROMNEY. 
 
 As “ Alope.” 
 
 Stipple, by Richard Earlom. W.L. lOf x I2£. 
 
 I. Before any inscription. 
 
 II. Title, “ Alope ” in open letters. Published 1st August, 1787. 
 
 III. Letters of title filled in. 
 
 As “ The Ambassadress.” 
 
 Mezzotint by T. G. Appleton. 23 x 18 (1905). 
 
 As “ Ariadne.” 
 
 Line by C. Brome and T Bragg, nearly W.L. 12£ x lOf. 
 
 I. “ Painted by G. Romney. Engraved by C. Brome,” scratched. 
 
 II. Inscription engraved, entitled “ Kate,” in open letters. Published 
 
 4th May, 1827. 
 
 Mezzotint by H. T. Greenhead. 15£ X 19f (1895.) 
 
 As “Bacchante.” 
 
 Stipple by Charles Knight. T.Q.L. 12| x lOf. 
 
 I. Inscription engraved, title in open letters. Published C. Knight. 
 
 II. Letters of title filled in and date of publication, 17th June, 1787 added. 
 
 III. Published by C. Knight and Randon, Stainbach and Sayer. 
 
 Mezzotint by T. G. Appleton. 17 x 21£ (1902). 
 
 Mezzotint by N. Hirst. 12 x 15J (1902). 
 
 As “Bacchante.” A study. 
 
 Line by C. Holl, 1\ X 9J, for the “ Vernon Gallery.” 
 
 Mezzotint by R. Kenealy. 8 x 10. Jan. 30th, 1890. 
 
 Mezzotint by E. Gulland. 13^ X 11J (1902). 
 
 121 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 As “Cassandra.” 
 
 Line by Francis Legat. W.L. 19^ x 14J. 
 
 I. Inscription scratched. 
 
 II. Inscription engraved. Published 1st January, 1795. 
 
 As “ Cassandra.” Bust only. 
 
 Mezzotint by H. T. Greenhead, under the title of “ Lady Hamilton when 
 Young.” 16f x 17J (1895). 
 
 As “ Cassandra.” Head only. 
 
 Stipple by Caroline Watson. in. circle. 
 
 I. Before the inscription. 
 
 II. With the title “ Cassandra.” Published 14th April, 1809. 
 
 As “ Cassandra.” Head nearly full face. 
 
 Mezzotint by T. Protheroe. 17 X 21f (1903). 
 
 As “ Circe.” 
 
 Mezzotint by H. S. Bridgwater. 14J x 23J (1894). 
 
 Mezzotint by E. L. Haynes. 14^ x 19J (1901). 
 
 As “ Comedy.” 
 
 Stipple by Benjamin Smith. W.L 10^ x 12f. 
 
 I. Title in running and open letters. Published 4th June, 1803. 
 
 II. Title in running and open letters. Published 1st December, 1803. 
 
 As “ Comedy.” 
 
 Stipple by Caroline Watson. W.L. 7 X 5f. Published 14th April, 1809. 
 
 I. Before all letters. 
 
 II. With medallion bust of Romney added at foot. 
 
 III. Title in running and open letters. 
 
 As “ Contemplation.” 
 
 Mezzotint by E. Wehrschmidt. 15J x 19J oval (1897). 
 
 122 
 
List of Engravings . 
 
 As “ Emma.” 
 
 Stipple by J. Jones. H.L. lOf x 9£. 
 
 I. The title “Emma” scratched, the rest of the inscription engraved. 
 
 Published 29th December, 1785. 
 
 II. With the title engraved. 
 
 III. Modern. 
 
 Mezzotint by George Zobel. 9 x 11£. Dec. 14th, 1876. 
 
 Mezzotint by E. Stamp. 15 x 19 (1902). 
 
 As “ Emma,” with Handkerchief round Head. 
 
 Stipple by W. Read. H.L. 5 x 3f. Published 1st August, 1815. 
 I. Title “ Lady Hamilton.” 
 
 II. Title and Name of Engraver. 
 
 As “ Euphrosyne.” 
 
 Mezzotint by G. S. Shury. 10 x 12, oval (1898). 
 
 As “Joan of Arc.” Head only. 
 
 Mezzotint by N. Hurst. 19| x 17f (1901). 
 
 With Minature in Belt, 
 
 Stipple by Henry Meyer. H.L. Vignette. 
 
 With the Name. Published 10th April, 1815. 
 
 As “ Miranda.” 
 
 Stipple by Caroline Watson. Head 7§ x 7. 
 
 I. Before any Inscription. 
 
 II. With the title “Miranda.” Published 14th April, 1809. 
 
 Mezzotint by C. Tomkins. 7| X 9 (1897) 
 
 Drawn on Stone by J. W. Slater. H. L. 5J x 4f. 
 
 Title “ Lady Hamilton as Miranda,” in open letters. Published 17th June. 
 
 Engraved by Journard, 7f x 6J, for the “ Magazine of Art.” 
 
 123 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 “ In Morning Dress.” 
 
 Engraved by C. Dietrich for the “ Magazine of Art.” (1885). 
 
 Photogravure by Messrs. Braun et Cie, Paris. (1901). 
 
 Mezzotint by R. W. Hester. 15^ x 19(1903). 
 
 As “ Nature.” 
 
 Mezzotint by J. R. Smith. H.L. 13 X 10f. 
 
 I. Inscription in skeleton letters. The title “ Nature,” in open letters. 
 
 Published 29th May, 1784. 
 
 II. Inscription engraved. Title in open letters. 
 
 *111. Print reduced by removal of the border to 10 x 8. Letters of title 
 filled in. 
 
 *Mrs. Prankau in her work on John Raphael Smith gives this as the 
 fourth state. The third state she describes as “ Inscription 
 engraved. Title partly filled in.” 
 
 Mezzotint by Henry Meyer. H.L. Ilf X 9|. 
 
 I. Before any inscription. 
 
 II. Inscription without name of personage, engraved. 
 
 III. “ Lady Hamilton ” added. 
 
 Mezzotint by Mrs. M. Cormack. 16f x 19f (1891). 
 
 Reading the Gazette. 
 
 Stipple by P. Holl. H.L. 10 x 13. Peb. 12th, 1878. 
 
 As “ St. Cecilia.” 
 
 Stipple by G. Keating. W.L. 12^ x 9f. 
 
 Inscription (without title) engraved. Published 25th March, 1789. 
 
 The British Museum copy has the title in open letters. 
 
 This plate was also engraved by R. Earlom. 
 
 “The Sempstress.” (Ward & Roberts say that this is Miss Vernon). 
 
 Stipple by Thos. Cheesman. W.L. 12£ x 9f. 
 
 I. Before any description. 
 
 II. Title “The Sempstress,” in open letters, artist’s name in stippled 
 letters, publication line in skeleton letters. Published 25th 
 April, 1787. 
 
 III. Inscription engraved. 
 
 124 
 
List of Engravings. 
 
 As “ Sensibility.” 
 
 Stipple by Richard Earlom. Nearly W.L. 12} x 9f. 
 
 I. Title “ Sensibility” in open letters. Published 25th March, 1789. 
 
 II. Letters of the title filled in.” 
 
 The British Museum has a preliminary etching before any letter. 
 Stipple by Caroline Watson. Head 6} in circle. 
 
 I. Before any inscription. 
 
 II. With the title “ Sensibility.” Published 14th April, 1809. 
 
 Mezzotint by J. W. Chapman. 12 x 14}. Sept. 24th, 1891. 
 
 “ The Spinstress.” 
 
 Stipple by Thomas Cheesman. W.L. 14 X 10} 
 
 I. Before any Inscription. 
 
 II. With title, artist’s name in stippled letters, rest of inscription 
 
 engraved. Published 1st August, 1789. 
 
 III. With the title, “The Sempstress” added. 
 
 Stipple and Etching by C. H. Jeens. 10} X 14. Feb. 14th, 1876. 
 
 Mezzotint by H. T. Greenhead. 15 X 21 (1898). 
 
 Boydell’s “ Catalogue ” 1803, describes one by Tomkins 10} x 14} 
 (probably an error). 
 
 As “ Supplication.” 
 
 Mezzotint by T. G. Appleton. 15 X 18 (1903) 
 
 Title “ Lady Hamilton as Supplication.” 
 
 This is a different version of “ Miranda.” 
 
 As “ Titania.” (Ward & Roberts say that this is Mrs. Oliver, nee Shakespeare). 
 
 Stipple by Edward Scriven. W.L. 7} x 9}. 
 
 I. Inscription engraved “proof” scratched. Published 1st December, 
 1810. 
 
 II. Without the word “ proof.” 
 
 The British Museum copy has the artist’s name only, scratched. 
 
 As “ A Wood Nymph.” (The same authorities say that this is not Lady Hamilton). 
 
 Mezzotint by Valentine Green. W.L. 23f x 16}. 
 
 I. Inscription scratched. Published 14th February, 1778. 
 
 II. Inscription engraved. Published 16th October, 1778. 
 
 125 
 
Emma, Lady Hamilton. 
 
 PORTRAITS BY ROMNEY, WITHOUT TITLES. 
 
 Stipple by J. Conde. H. L. 4 x 3J. 
 
 With the name. Published for the “ European Magazine,” 1803. 
 
 Stipple and Line by J. Skelton. Seated half figure. 9 x 5f (1849). 
 
 Mezzotint by H. S. Bridgwater. Head and shoulders, full face. 8 x 9J (1897) 
 Mezzotint by J. W. Chapman. Seated half figure. 17 x 21 (1894) 
 
 ENGRAVINGS AFTER OTHER ARTISTS. 
 
 As “ Bacchante.” By Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
 
 Mezzotint by. J. R. Smith. H.L. 8J x 10J. Published September, 1784. 
 
 I. Inscription in open letters. 
 
 II. With name of artist and engraver’s name and address. 
 
 III. Retouched. Engraver’s address, “83 Oxford Street ” erased ; instead, 
 “ 31 King Street, Covent Garden.” 
 
 Mezzotint by J. Rogers. “ Specimens of Art,” Plate II. 
 
 “ Em.ma, Lady Hamilton.” By Sir Thomas Lawrence. 
 
 Engraved by C. Knight for Lawrence’s private use. June 20th, 1792. 
 
 As “The Comic Muse.” By Angelica Kauffman. 
 
 Line by Raphael Morghen. 10^ x 13^. With Inscription. 
 
 As “ A Sybil.” By Madame Vigee le Brun. 
 
 Litho by Grevedon. 8-J x 12-|. 
 
 Title “ Lady Hamilton en Sibylle.” 
 
 “ Lady Hamilton.” By J. J. Masquerier. 
 
 Mezzotint by William Say. 14 x 11. Published 20th May, 1S06. 
 
 “ Lady Hamilton.” By De Non. 
 
 Etching by Jean Suntach. 5§ x 7J. Title “ Madame Hart.” 
 
 “ Lady Hamilton.” By W. Bennet. 
 
 Mezzotint by R. Mackenzie. 3f x 2£, oval. (1803). 
 
 “ Lady Hamilton. By H. Sherburn. 
 
 Engraved by H. Rogers (1882). 
 
 “ Lady Hamilton.” Head and Bust. By Guy Head. 
 
 Litho by B. Reading. 5x3. 
 
 126 
 
Index of Plates. 
 
 JNDEX OP PLATES. 
 
 Lady Hamilton. Miniature by Shelley. By kind permission of the owner, 
 
 F. Sabin, Esq. ........ Frontispiece. 
 
 “A Bacchante.” Painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds. Engraved by J. R. Smith, 
 
 Mezzotint Engraver to H.R.H. the Prince of Wales - • - Facing 4 
 
 Lady Hamilton as “ Nature.” By George Romney. From an Engraving by 
 
 J. R. Smith - - - - - • - - - - „ 8 
 
 Lady Hamilton (Emma Hart). By George Romney. From the picture in the 
 
 National Gallery - - - • - - - - - „ 12 
 
 Lady Hamilton as “Ariadne.” By George Romney. In the possession of Sir 
 
 Audrey Neeld, Bart. - - - - - - - - 16 
 
 Lady Hamilton as “ Bacchante.” By Sir Joshua Reynolds. From the original 
 painting in the Cranbury Park Collection. By kind permission of the owner, 
 Tankerville Chamberlayne, Esq., M.P. - - - - - - „ 20 
 
 Lady Hamilton as “ Bacchante.” By Madame Vigee Le Brun. From the original 
 painting in the Cranbury Park Collection. By kind permission of the owner, 
 Tankerville Chamberlayne, Esq., M.P. - - - - - - „ 24 
 
 Lady Hamilton as “ Bacchante.” By George Romney. From the original painting 
 in the Cranbury Park Collection. By kind permission of Tankerville 
 
 Chamberlayne, Esq., M.P. - - - - - - - - „ 28 
 
 Lady Hamilton as “ Cassandra.” By George Romney. From the original painting 
 in the Cranbury Park Collection. By kind permission of Tankerville 
 
 Chamberlayne, Esq., M.P. • - - - - - - - „ 32 
 
 Lady Hamilton as “ Cassandra.” By George Romney. In the possession of General 
 
 Sir Arthur Ellis - - - - - - - - - „ 36 
 
 Lady Hamilton as “The Ambassadress.” Engraved by T. G. Appleton, after 
 George Romney. From the picture in the possession of Sir Robert Harvey, 
 
 Baronet. By permission of Messrs. Henry Graves & Sons - - - 40 
 
 Lady Hamilton as “ Circe.” By George Romney. From the original painting. By 
 
 kind permission of the owner, the Hon. H. C. Gibbs, M.A. - - - „ 44 
 
 Lady Hamilton. Unfinished Sketch. By Sir Thomas Lawrence. (In the British 
 Museum) .......... 
 
 Lady Hamilton in Morning Dress. By George Romney. From the original 
 painting. By permission, from Messrs. Agnew’s New Work on Romney 
 Lady Hamilton Reading the Gazette. By George Romney. From the original 
 painting. By permission, from Messrs. Agnew’s New Work on Romney 
 Lady Hamilton “ The Spinstress.” By George Romney • 
 
 Lady Hamilton “Sensibility.” By George Romney. By kind permission of the 
 owner, Lord Burton ........ 
 
 Lady Hamilton (Emma Hart). By George Romney. In the possession of Alfred 
 Rothschild, Esq., --------- 
 
 Lady Hamilton. By George Romney. From the original painting. By kind 
 permission of the owner, the Earl of Wemyss ..... 
 
 Lady Hamilton as a Nun Praying. By George Romney. By kind permission of 
 the owner, Tankerville Chamberlayne, Esq., M.P. .... 
 
 Lady Hamilton. By George Romney -.---- 
 
 Lady Hamilton. After Sir Thomas Lawrence. By kind permission of the owner, 
 The Rt. Hon. Evelyn Ashley ....... 
 
 Lady Hamilton. Painted by J. J. Masquerier - 
 
 48 
 
 52 
 
 60 
 
 68 
 
 It 
 
 76 
 
 tt 
 
 84 
 
 92 
 
 100 
 
 108 
 
 116 
 
 118 
 
 127 
 
GEO. PULMAN & SONS. LTD., 
 CRANFORD PRESS, 
 WEALDSTONE, 
 MIDD'X. 
 

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