CHAPTER XI.

NELSON'S RETURN FROM EGYPT TO NAPLES.--MEETING WITH LADY

HAMILTON.--ASSOCIATION WITH THE COURT OF NAPLES.--WAR BETWEEN NAPLES

AND FRANCE.--DEFEAT OF THE NEAPOLITANS.--FLIGHT OF THE COURT TO

PALERMO.

SEPTEMBER-DECEMBER, 1798. AGE, 40.

The voyage of Nelson's small division from Aboukir Bay to Naples

occupied between four and five weeks, owing partly to light and

contrary winds, and partly to the dull sailing of the "Culloden,"

which had a sail secured under her bottom to lessen the dangerous leak

caused by her grounding on the night of the battle. This otherwise

unwelcome delay procured for Nelson a period of salutary, though

enforced, repose, which the nature of his injuries made especially

desirable. His mind, indeed, did not cease to work, but it was free

from harassment; and the obvious impossibility of doing anything, save

accept the present easy-going situation, contributed strongly to the

quietness upon which restoration depended. Nor were there wanting

matters of daily interest to prevent an excess of monotony. Now that

frigates were no longer so vitally necessary, they and other light

cruisers turned up with amusing frequency, bringing information, and

being again despatched hither and yonder with letters from the

admiral, which reflected instinctively his personal moods, and his

active concern in the future military operations.

The distress from his head continued for some time with little

abatement, and naturally much affected his tone of mind. At the first

he spoke of his speedy return to England as inevitable, nor did the

prospect occasion the discouragement which he had experienced after

the loss of his arm; a symptom which had shown the moral effect of

failure upon a sensitive and ambitious temperament. "My head is ready

to split," he had written to St. Vincent before starting, "and I am

always so sick; in short, if there be no fracture, my head is severely

shaken." A fortnight after leaving the bay, he writes him again: "I

know I ought to give up for a little while; my head is splitting at

this moment;" and Nicolas remarks that the letter bears evident marks

of suffering, three attempts being made to spell the word "splitting."

Yet by this time the pain had become at least intermittent, for

Saumarez, whose squadron fell in with the admiral's division several

times, notes that on the 26th of August he spent half an hour on board

the flagship, and found him in perfect health; and on the 7th of

September Nelson himself writes to the British minister at Florence

that he felt so much recovered, it was probable he would not go home

for the present. A few days later he wrote to Hood, off Alexandria,

that he relied upon the thoroughness of the blockade to complete the

destruction of the French army. "I shall not go home," he added,

"until this is effected, and the islands of Malta, Corfu, &c.,

retaken."

It is to the furtherance of these objects, all closely allied, and in

his apprehension mutually dependent, that his occasional letters are

directed. His sphere of operations he plainly conceives to be from

Malta, eastward, to Syria inclusive. "I detest this voyage to Naples,"

he wrote to St. Vincent, two days before reaching the port. "Nothing

but absolute necessity could force me to the measure. Syracuse in

future, whilst my operations lie on the eastern side of Sicily, is my

port, where every refreshment may be had for a fleet." The present

necessity was that of refit and repair, to which Syracuse was

inadequate. "For myself," he sent word to Sir William Hamilton, "I

hope not to be more than four or five days at Naples, for these times

are not for idleness." Not long after his arrival this conviction as

to the movements requiring his personal presence underwent an entire

change; and thenceforth, till he left for England two years later, it

was only the presence of clear emergency, appealing to his martial

instincts and calling forth the sense of duty which lay at the root of

his character, that could persuade him his proper place was elsewhere

than at the Court of Naples. It is only fair to add that, upon the

receipt of the news of his great victory, the Admiralty designated to

St. Vincent, as first in order among the cares of the squadron within

the Mediterranean, "the protection of the coasts of Sicily, Naples,

and the Adriatic, and, in the event of war being renewed in Italy, an

active co-operation with the Austrian and Neapolitan armies." Long

before these instructions were received, the very day indeed that they

were written, Nelson had become urgently instrumental in precipitating

Naples into war. Next in order of interest, by the Admiralty's

letters, were, successively, the isolation of Egypt and of Malta, and

co-operation with the Russian and Turkish squadrons which, it was

expected, would be sent into the Archipelago, and which actually did

attack and capture Corfu. The letter thus summarized may be taken to

indicate the general extent of Nelson's charge during the two

following years.

It may be said, then, without error, that Nelson's opinion as to the

direction of his personal supervision underwent a decisive change

after his arrival in Naples. Before it, he is urgent with that Court

to support with active naval assistance the operations against Malta,

and to send bomb-vessels, the absence of which he continually

deplores, to shell the transports in the harbor of Alexandria. He

hopes, indeed, to find on his arrival that the Emperor and many other

powers are at war with the French, but his attention is concentrated

upon Bonaparte's army. To the British minister in Turkey he is yet

more insistent as to what the Sultan should undertake. If he will but

send a few ships-of-the-line, and some bombs, he will destroy all

their transports in Alexandria; and an army of ten thousand men may

retake Alexandria immediately, as the French have only four thousand

men in it. Subsequent events showed this forecast of Nelson's to be as

erroneous as those of Napoleon were at times in regard to naval

prospects. "General Bonaparte," he continues, "only wants a

communication opened by sea, to march into Syria, that the transports

with stores, &c., for the army, may go alongshore with him." This he

had learned from French officers who were prisoners on board, and we

know it corresponded with the facts. "If the Sultan will not send

anything, he will lose Syria." "Naples," he tells St Vincent, "is

saved in spite of herself. They have evidently broken their treaty

with France, and yet are afraid to assist in finishing the vast

armament of the French. Four hours with bomb vessels, would set all in

a blaze, and we know what an army is without stores." This

anticipation also proved deceptive; but the expressions quoted are

fair examples of the general tenor of his letters between Aboukir and

Naples, and show his feeling that the important points of his command

lay to the east of Sicily.

The same tendency was shown upon the appearance of a Portuguese

squadron of four ships-of-the-line, which entered the Mediterranean in

July with orders to place themselves under his command. He first

learned the fact upon this passage, and at once sent a frigate to

Alexandria to beg the Portuguese admiral, the Marquis de Niza, to

assume the blockade, as the most important service to be rendered the

common cause. When the frigate reached its destination, Niza had come

and gone, and Nelson then headed him off at the Strait of Messina, on

his way to Naples, and sent him to blockade Malta. It may be added

that this squadron remained under his command until December, 1799,

and was of substantial utility in the various operations. Nelson

professed no great confidence in its efficiency, which was not

subjected to the severest tests; but he made a handsome acknowledgment

to its commander when it was recalled to Lisbon.

On the 22d of September the flagship anchored at Naples. On the 15th

her foremast had been carried away in a squall, and the "poor wretched

Vanguard," as Nelson called her, having to be towed by a frigate, her

two crippled consorts preceded her arrival by six days. The news of

the victory had been brought three weeks before by the "Mutine," on

the 1st of September. The Court party had gone wild with joy, in which

the populace, naturally hostile to the French, had joined with

southern vivacity of expression. Captain Capel, who commanded the

brig, with Lieutenant Hoste, who was to succeed him when he departed

with the despatches for England, had been at once taken to Court and

presented. When they left the palace they were met by Lady Hamilton,

who made them get into her carriage, and with characteristic bad taste

and love of notoriety paraded them until dark through the streets of

this neutral capital, she wearing a bandeau round her forehead with

the words, "Nelson and Victory." "The populace saw and understood what

it meant," wrote Hoste, "and 'Viva Nelson!' resounded through the

streets. You can have no idea of the rejoicings that were made

throughout Naples. Bonfires and illuminations all over the town;

indeed, it would require an abler pen than I am master of to give you

any account but what will fall infinitely short of what was the case."

By Nelson's orders the "Mutine" sailed in a few days to meet him with

despatches, and on the 14th of September joined the division off

Stromboli. With more important information, and letters from persons

of greater consequence, she had brought also one from Lady Hamilton,

giving a vivid picture of the general joy, and in particular an

account of the Queen's state of mind, so highly colored and detailed

that Nelson could only hope he might not be witness to a renewal of

it, but which so impressed him that he quoted it at length to Lady

Nelson. When the "Vanguard" approached the town, crowds of boats went

out to meet her, and His Sicilian Majesty himself came on board when

she was still a league from the anchorage. He had been preceded by the

British ambassador with Lady Hamilton. The latter, having had only

three weeks to recover from the first shock of the news, was greatly

overcome, and dropped her lovely face and by no means slender figure

into the arms of the admiral, who, on his part, could scarcely fail to

be struck with the pose of one whose attitudes compelled the

admiration of the most exacting critics. "The scene in the boat was

terribly affecting," he wrote to his wife. "Up flew her ladyship, and

exclaiming, 'O God, is it possible?' she fell into my arm more dead

than alive. Tears, however, soon set matters to rights."

This was the beginning of an intimacy destined, in the end, to affect

profoundly and unhappily the future of Nelson. Although Sir William

Hamilton, in his own congratulatory letter by the "Mutine," called him

"our bosom friend," they do not seem to have met since the summer of

1793, when the young captain carried Hood's despatches from Toulon to

Naples; and Nelson, while acknowledging on the present occasion the

kindness of an invitation to take up his quarters at the embassy, had

expressed a preference for rooms at a hotel, on account of the

business to be transacted. This reluctance, however, was easily and

properly overruled, and immediately after anchoring he went to live at

the ambassador's house, which, under the management of the celebrated

woman who presided there, became the social centre of the welcomes

lavished not only upon himself, but upon all the officers of the

ships.

Emma, Lady Hamilton, the second wife of Sir William, was at this time

thirty-three years old, her husband being sixty-eight. Her name, when

first entering the world, was Amy Lyon. Born in Cheshire of extremely

poor parents, in the humblest walk of life, she had found her way up

to London, while yet little more than a child, and there, having a

beautiful face, much natural charm of manner and disposition, utterly

inexperienced, and with scarcely any moral standards,--of which her

life throughout shows but little trace,--she was speedily ruined, fell

so far, in fact, that even with all her attractions it seemed doubtful

whether any man would own himself responsible for her condition, or

befriend her. In these circumstances, when not yet seventeen, she was

taken up by a nephew of Sir William Hamilton, Mr. Charles Greville,

who recognized not merely her superficial loveliness, but something of

the mental and moral traits underlying it, which promised a capacity

for development into an interesting and affectionate household

companion. Upon her promises of amendment, in the matter of future

relations with men, and of submission to his guidance and wishes in

the general conduct of her life, he took her in charge, and the two

lived together for nearly four years.

Greville bestowed a good deal of pains upon her training, and was

rewarded, not only by gratitude and careful compliance with his

directions, but by her sincere and devoted affection. The girl became

heartily and fondly in love with him, finding both contentment and

happiness in the simply ordered home provided for her. Her education,

which hitherto was of the smallest, received attention,--her letters

showing a very great improvement both in spelling and mode of

expression by the end of their association. On the moral side, of

course, there was not much development to be expected from one whose

standards, with less excuse, were in no way better than her own. On

this side Greville's teaching was purely utilitarian. Her position

was considered as a calling,--success in which demanded certain

proprieties and accomplishments, only to be attained by the practice

of habitual self-control, alike in doing and in not doing.

The future Lady Hamilton was affectionate and impulsive, good-humored,

with generous instincts and a quick temper; but she was also ambitious

and exceptionally clever. She loved Greville warmly; but she took to

heart the hard truths of his teachings, and they sank deep in a

congenial soil. Under the influence of the two motives, she applied

herself to gain, and did gain, a certain degree of external niceness

and self-control. Her affection for Greville made her willing, for his

sake, because he was not rich, to live quietly, to accept modest

surroundings, and to discard whatever was coarse in associates, or

unbecoming in her own person or conduct. He, while relaxing none of

his requirements, repaid her with courtesy and increasing admiration,

than which nothing was dearer to her; for, if not appreciative of the

satisfaction of self-respect, she was keenly alive to the delights of

homage from others, though extorted by purely adventitious qualities.

Glory was to her more than honor. This love of admiration, fostered,

yet pruned, by Greville's shrewd precepts, was her dominant trait. To

its gratification her singular personal advantages contributed, and

they were powerfully supported by an unusual faculty for assuming a

part, for entering into a character and representing its external

traits. Thus gifted by nature, and swayed by vanity, her development

was for the time regulated and chastened by the disinterestedness of

her passion for her lover. Her worse qualities were momentarily kept

in abeyance. Naturally lovable, not only in exterior but in

temperament, she became more and more attractive. "Consider," wrote

Greville, referring to her surroundings before she passed into his

hands, "what a charming creature she would have been, if she had been

blessed with the advantages of an early education, and had not been

spoilt by the indulgence of every caprice."

Unfortunately the restraining influence, probably ephemeral in any

event, was about to be rudely removed, permitting to flourish in

unrestrained vigor the natural tendency to compel admiration and

secure advantage by the spell of physical beauty, and by the exertion

of natural aptitudes for pleasing in the only path to success open to

her. In 1782 Hamilton's first wife died, and in 1784 he came to

England on leave. There he met Amy Lyon, now known as Emma Hart, in

the house provided for her by Greville. His admiration of her was

extreme, and its tendency was not misunderstood by her. He returned to

his post at Naples at the end of the year. In the course of 1785

Greville, who was now in his thirty-sixth year, decided that the

condition of his fortune made it imperative for him to marry, and that

as a first step thereto he must break with Emma Hart. Hamilton's

inclination for her provided a ready means for so doing, so far as the

two men were concerned; but her concurrence was not sure. After some

correspondence, it was arranged that she should go to Naples in the

spring of 1786, to live there under Hamilton's care, with the

expectation on her part that Greville would join her a few months

later. Placed as she then would be, it was probable that she would

eventually accept the offers made her; though it would be less than

just to either Greville or Hamilton, to allow the impression that they

did not intend to provide sufficiently for her needs, whatever her

decision.

In this way she left England in the spring of 1786, reaching Naples on

the 26th of April. When the poor girl, after many of her letters to

her lover remained unanswered, fully realized, that the separation was

final, her grief was extreme, and found utterance in words of

tenderness and desolation, which, however undisciplined in expression,

are marked by genuine pathos. But anger struggled with sorrow for the

mastery in her soul. She was too keen-witted not to have had an

inkling of the possible outcome of her departure from England, and of

the doubtful position she was occupying at Naples; but her wishes had

made her willingly deaf to any false ring in the assurances given her

by Greville, and she resented not only the abandonment, but the deceit

which she, justly or unjustly, conceived to have been practised, while

her womanliness revolted from the cold-blooded advice given by him to

accept the situation. The conflict was so sharp that for a time both

he and Hamilton expected she would return to England; but Greville had

not labored in vain at what he was pleased to consider her education.

By the end of the year she was addressing Hamilton in words of very

fairly assumed affection, but not until she had written to Greville,

with a certain haughty desperation, "If you affront me, I will make

him marry me." The threat was two-edged, for Hamilton intended

Greville to be his heir; but the latter probably gave little heed to a

contingency he must have thought very unlikely for a man of fifty-six,

who had passed his life in the world, and held Hamilton's public

position.

To effect this, however, Emma Hart now bent her personal charms,

strong purpose, and the worldly wisdom with which Greville had taught

her to assure her hold upon a man. Love, in its unselfishness, passed

out of her life with Greville. Other men might find her pliant,

pleasing, seductive; he alone knew her as disinterested. She followed

out her design with a patience, astuteness, and consistency which

attest the strength of her resolution, and her acute intellectual

perception of the advantages at her disposal. Ambition, a natural

trait with her, had been trained to self-control, in order to compass

a lowly, colorless success. Unlooked-for opportunity now held before

her eyes, distant and difficult of attainment, but not impossible, a

position of assured safety, luxury, and prominence, which appealed

powerfully to the love of pleasure, still dormant, and to the love of

conspicuousness, which became the two most noticeable features of her

character.

With all her natural advantages, however, the way was hard and long.

She had to become indispensable to Hamilton, and at the same time, and

by the same methods, an object the more desirable to him because of

her evident attractiveness to others. Above all, she had to contend

with her own temper, naturally lively and prone to bursts of anger,

which the prolonged suspense of the struggle, acting upon a woman's

nerves, tended peculiarly to exasperate. Hamilton was of an age when

he might be enslaved by fondness, but not constrained by strength of

passion to endure indefinitely household tempests, much less to

perpetuate them upon himself by lasting bonds. In all this Emma Hart

showed herself fully equal to the task. Tenderly affectionate to him,

except when carried away by the fits of irritability which both he and

Greville had occasion to observe, she complied readily with all his

wishes, and followed out with extraordinary assiduity his plans for

her improvement in education and in accomplishments. The society which

gathered round them was, of course, almost wholly of men, who one and

all prostrated themselves before her beauty and cleverness, with the

same unanimity of submission as did the officers of Nelson's division

after the Battle of the Nile. But, while giving free rein to coquetry,

and revelling in admiration, she afforded no ground for scandal to the

world, or dissatisfaction to Hamilton. In the attitude of outsiders

towards her, he had reason to see only the general testimony to her

charms and to his own good fortune. At the end of 1787 he wrote to

Greville: "I can assure you her behaviour is such as has acquired her

many sensible admirers, and we have a good man society, and all the

female nobility, with the queen at their head, show her every distant

civility."

Thus she persisted, keeping her beauty, and growing in mental

acquirements and accomplishments, but making little apparent headway

towards the great object of her ambition. "I fear," wrote Hamilton

towards the middle of 1789, when she had been three years with him,

"her views are beyond what I can bring myself to execute; and that

when her hopes on that point are over, she will make herself and me

unhappy. Hitherto her behaviour is irreproachable, but her temper, as

you must know, unequal." He underrated her perseverance, and

exaggerated his own strength of reluctance, innate and acquired.

Impossible as it would seem, with his antecedents and with hers, his

friends and acquaintances became alarmed for the result, and not

without cause. "Her influence over him exceeds all belief," wrote a

mutual friend to Greville in March, 1791. "His attachment exceeds

admiration, it is perfect dotage." Shortly after this letter was

written the two went to England, and there they were married on the

6th of September, 1791. By the end of the year they were back in

Naples, and did not again leave Italy up to the time of Nelson's

arrival in 1798.

Lady Hamilton did not abuse the security of the place she had won with

so much pains, nor on the other hand did her ambition and love of

prominence permit her to settle down to inert enjoyment of it. The

careful self-restraint with which she had observed the proprieties of

her former false position facilitated the disappearance of prejudices

naturally arising from it. Many English ladies of rank, passing

through Naples, visited her, and those who refused to ignore the past

of the woman, in the position of the British minister's wife, were by

some sharply criticised. "She has had a difficult part to act," wrote

Hamilton, six months after their return, "and has succeeded

wonderfully, having gained, by having no pretensions, the thorough

approbation of all the English ladies. The Queen of Naples was very

kind to her on our return, and treats her like any other travelling

lady of distinction; in short, we are very comfortably situated

here." "We dined yesterday with Sir William and Lady Hamilton," wrote

Lady Malmesbury, whose husband was among the most distinguished

diplomatists of the day. "She really behaves as well as possible, and

quite wonderfully, considering her origin and education."

This last phrase, used at the culmination of Lady Hamilton's good

fortune and personal advance, was wholly good-natured; but it sums up

the best of the not very good that can be said of her during the

height of her prosperity, and in later years. Although, as has been

remarked, she did not at this time abuse the security which as a wife

she had attained,--for policy too clearly dictated the continuance of

her previous circumspection,--the necessity for strenuous

watchfulness, exertion, and self-restraint, in order to reach a

distant goal, no longer existed; and, although a woman of many amiable

and generous impulses, she had not a shred of principle to take the

place of the motive of self-interest, which hitherto had been so

peremptory in its exactions. What she was in delicacy in 1791, that

she remained in 1796,--five years after the disappearance of her

social disabilities; a pretty fair proof that what she possessed of it

was but skin deep, the result of a diligent observance of Greville's

proprieties, for her personal advantage, not the token of a noble

inner spirit struggling from excusable defilement to the light. "She

does the honours of the house with great attention and desire to

please," wrote Greville's correspondent of 1791, before quoted, "but

wants a little refinement of manners, in which, in the course of six

years, I wonder she has not made greater progress." "She is all Nature

and yet all Art," said Sir Gilbert Elliot, in 1796; "that is to say,

her manners are perfectly unpolished, of course very easy, though not

with the ease of good breeding, but of a barmaid; excessively good

humoured, and wishing to please and be admired by all ages and sorts

of persons that come in her way; but besides considerable natural

understanding, she has acquired, since her marriage, some knowledge of

history and of the arts, and one wonders at the application and pains

she has taken to make herself what she is. With men her language and

conversation are exaggerations of anything I ever heard anywhere; and

I was wonderfully struck with these inveterate remains of her origin,

though the impression was very much weakened by seeing the other

ladies of Naples." "I thought her a very handsome, vulgar woman,"

curtly commented the lieutenant of a frigate which visited Naples in

the summer of 1798, while hunting for Nelson in the game of

cross-purposes that preceded the Nile.[70] Allowing for difference of

observers, it is plain that the Lady Hamilton whom Nelson now met, had

not improved in essentials over the Emma Hart of a half-dozen years

before.

Two years afterwards, the verdict of these men was confirmed by Mrs.

St. George,[71] a lady in London society, who viewed her possibly with

something of the repugnant prejudice of a refined and cultivated

woman, yet evidently measured her words calmly, even in her private

journal. "I think her bold, daring, vain even to folly, and stamped

with the manners of her first situation much more strongly than one

would suppose, after having represented Majesty, and lived in good

company fifteen years. Her dress is frightful. Her waist is absolutely

between her shoulders." Nelson measured her by a different standard.

"In every point of view," he tells herself, "from Ambassatrice to the

duties of domestic life, I never saw your equal. That elegance of

manners, accomplishments, and, above all, your goodness of heart, is

unparalleled." The same lady describes her personal appearance, at the

time when his devotion had reached the height from which it never

declined. "Her figure is colossal, but, excepting her feet, which are

hideous, well shaped. Her bones are large, and she is exceedingly

_embonpoint_. The shape of all her features is fine, as is the form of

her head, and particularly her ears; her teeth are a little irregular,

but tolerably white; her eyes light blue, with a brown spot in one,

which, though a defect, takes nothing away from her beauty or

expression. Her eyebrows and hair (which, by the bye, is never clean)

are dark, and her complexion coarse. Her expression is strongly

marked, variable, and interesting; her movements in common life

ungraceful; her voice loud, yet not disagreeable." Elliot's briefer

mention of her appearance is at once confirmatory and complementary of

that of Mrs. St. George: "Her person is nothing short of monstrous for

its enormity, and is growing every day. Her face is beautiful."

To these opinions it may be not uninteresting to add the critical

estimate of William Beckford, uttered many years later. Beckford was

not an admirable character, far from it; but he had known good

society, and he had cultivated tastes. Nelson accepted his

hospitality, and, with the Hamiltons, spent several days under his

roof, about Christmas time, 1800. In reply to the question, "Was the

second Lady Hamilton a fascinating woman?" he said, "I never thought

her so. She was somewhat masculine, but symmetrical in figure, so that

Sir William called her his Grecian. She was full in person, not fat,

but _embonpoint_. Her carriage often majestic, rather than feminine.

Not at all delicate, ill-bred, often very affected, a devil in temper

when set on edge. She had beautiful hair and displayed it. Her

countenance was agreeable,--fine, hardly beautiful, but the outline

excellent. She affected sensibility, but felt none--was artful; and no

wonder, she had been trained in the Court of Naples--a fine school for

an English woman of any stamp. Nelson was infatuated. She could make

him believe anything, that the profligate queen was a Madonna. He was

her dupe. She never had a child in her life."[72] As to this last

assertion, Beckford was not in a position to have personal knowledge.

But along with this native coarseness, which, if not ineradicable, was

never eradicated, she possessed an intuitive and perfect sense,

amounting to genius, for what propriety and good taste demanded in the

presentation of an ideal part,--the gift of the born actress. Of her

powers in this way the celebrated "Attitudes" were the chief example,

and there is no disagreement among the witnesses, either as to their

charm or as to the entire disappearance of the every-day woman in the

assumed character. "We had the attitudes a night or two ago by candle

light," wrote Sir Gilbert Elliot in 1796. "They come up to my

expectations fully, which is saying everything. They set Lady Hamilton

in a very different light from any I had seen her in before; nothing

about her, neither her conversation, her manners, nor figure, announce

the very refined taste which she discovers in this performance,

besides the extraordinary talent which is needed for the execution."

"You never saw anything so charming as Lady Hamilton's attitudes,"

wrote Lady Malmesbury in 1791. "The most graceful statues or pictures

do not give you an idea of them." "It is a beautiful performance,"

wrote Mrs. St. George, who saw her in 1800, when the Hamiltons and

Nelson were travelling on the Continent, "amusing to the most

ignorant, and highly interesting to the lovers of art. It is

remarkable that although coarse and ungraceful in common life, she

becomes highly graceful, and even beautiful, during this performance.

It is also singular that, in spite of the accuracy of her imitation of

the finest ancient draperies, her usual dress is tasteless, vulgar,

loaded and unbecoming."

The stormy period of the French Revolution, which was about to burst

into universal war at the time she was married, gave Lady Hamilton

another opportunity to come yet more conspicuously before men's eyes

than she had hitherto done. It is not easy to say what degree of

influence she really attained, or what particular results she may have

effected; but she certainly managed to give herself so much the air of

a person of importance, in the political intrigues of the day in

Naples, as at the least to impose successfully upon a great many, and

to be accepted very much at her own valuation. The French ambassador,

writing to Bonaparte in 1798, says: "If the preponderance which the

French Republic ought to take here, removed hence Acton and the wife

of Hamilton, this country, without other changes, would be extremely

useful for the execution of all your projects in the Mediterranean;"

and Sir William himself, who should have known, speaks of her activity

and utility,--"for several years the real and only confidential friend

of the Queen of Naples." Nelson, writing to the Queen of Naples in

1804, after Hamilton's death, said: "Your Majesty well knows that it

was her capacity and conduct which sustained his diplomatic character

during the last years in which he was at Naples."[73] Certainly,

Nelson believed, with all the blindness of love, whatever his mistress

chose to tell him, but he was not without close personal knowledge of

the inside history of at least two of those last years; for, in 1801,

addressing Mr. Addington, then Prime Minister, he used these words:

"Having for a length of time seen the correspondence both public and

private, from all the Neapolitan ministers to their Government and to

the Queen of Naples, I am perfectly acquainted with the views of the

several Powers." For her success Lady Hamilton was indebted, partly to

her personal advantages, and partly to her position as wife of the

British minister and chosen friend to the Queen. Great Britain played

a leading part everywhere in the gigantic struggle throughout the

Continent, but to a remote peninsular kingdom like Naples, protected

by its distance from the centres of strife, yet not wholly

inaccessible by land, the chief maritime state was the one and only

sufficient ally. A rude reminder of his exposure to naval attack had

been given to the King of the Two Sicilies, in 1792, by the appearance

of a French fleet, which extorted satisfaction for an alleged insult,

by threatening instant bombardment of his capital.

Sir William Hamilton, who had been minister since 1765, thus found

himself suddenly converted from a dilettante and sportsman, lounging

through life, into a busy diplomat, at the centre of affairs of

critical moment. At sixty-two the change could scarcely have been

welcome to him, but to his beautiful and ambitious wife the access of

importance was sweet, for it led to a close friendship with the Queen,

already disposed to affect her, even in the notorious position she had

held before her marriage; and the Queen, a daughter of Maria Theresa

and sister to Marie Antoinette, was much more of a man than the King.

The intimacy became the talk of Naples, and the report spread, easily

believed, because in the nature of things very likely, that the

personal relations between the two women cloaked a great deal of

underhand work, such as often accompanies diplomatic difficulties. Nor

did Lady Hamilton lack natural qualifications for the position into

which she undoubtedly wished to thrust herself. She was a brave,

capable, full-blooded, efficient woman, not to be daunted by fears or

scruples; a woman who, if only nerve and intelligence were required,

and if distinction for herself was at stake, could be fairly depended

upon. There was in her make-up a good deal of pagan virtue. She could

appreciate and admire heroism, and, under the stimulus of excitement,

of self-conscious magnanimity, for the glitter of effective

performance and the applause of onlookers, she was quite capable of

heroic action. It was this daring spirit, coarsely akin to much that

was best in himself, and of which she made proof under his own eyes,

that Nelson recognized; and this, in the thought of the writer, was

the body of truth, from which his enthusiasm, enkindled by her charms

and by her tenderness towards himself, projected such a singular

phantasm of romantic perfections.

Such was the woman, and such the position in the public eye that she

had gained for herself, when to Naples, first in the European

continent, came the news which made Nelson for the moment the most

conspicuous man of the day. He had achieved a triumph the most

startlingly dazzling that had yet been gained, and over one who up to

that time had excelled all other warriors in the brilliancy and extent

of his victories. Bonaparte was not yet the Napoleon whom history

knows, but thus far he had been the most distinguished child of the

Revolution. That Lady Hamilton then and there formed the purpose of

attaching Nelson to her, by the bonds which have sullied his memory,

is most improbable; but it is in entire keeping with the career and

the self-revelations of the woman that she should, instinctively, if

not with deliberation, have resolved to parade herself in the glare of

his renown, and appear in the foreground upon the stage of his

triumph, the chief dispenser of his praises, the patroness and

proprietor of the hero. The great occasion should shed a glamour round

her, together with him. "Emma's passion is admiration," Greville had

written soon after they parted, "and it is capable of aspiring to any

line which would be celebrated, and it would be indifferent, when on

that key, whether she was Lucretia or Sappho, or Scævola or Regulus;

anything grand, masculine or feminine, she could take up."

Unhappily, Nelson was not able to stand the heady dose of flattery

administered by a woman of such conspicuous beauty and consummate art;

nor was his taste discriminating enough to experience any wholesome

revolt against the rankness of the draught she offered him. The quick

appreciation of the born actress, which enabled her when on the stage

to clothe herself with a grace and refinement that dropped away when

she left it, conspired with his simplicity of confidence in others,

and his strong tendency to idealize, to invest her with a character

very different from the true. Not that the Lady Hamilton of reality

was utterly different from the Lady Hamilton of his imagination. That

she ever loved him is doubtful; but there were in her spirit impulses

capable of sympathetic response to his own in his bravest acts, though

not in his noblest motives. It is inconceivable that duty ever

appealed, to her as it did to him, nor could a woman of innate

nobility of character have dragged a man of Nelson's masculine renown

about England and the Continent, till he was the mock of all

beholders; but on the other hand it never could have occurred to the

energetic, courageous, brilliant Lady Hamilton, after the lofty deeds

and stirring dramatic scenes of St. Vincent, to beg him, as Lady

Nelson did, "to leave boarding to captains." Sympathy, not good taste,

would have withheld her. In Lady Nelson's letters there is evidence

enough of a somewhat colorless womanly affection, but not a thrill of

response to the greatness of her husband's daring, even when

surrounded herself by the acclamations it called forth.

What Nelson had never yet found in woman Lady Hamilton gave

him,--admiration and appreciation, undisguised and unmeasured, yet

bestowed by one who had the power, by the admission of even unfriendly

critics, of giving a reality and grace to the part she was performing.

He was soon at her feet. The playful gallantry with which Ball,

Elliot, and even old St. Vincent[74] himself, paid court to a handsome

woman, greedy of homage, became in Nelson a serious matter. Romantic

in temperament, he was all day in flattering contact with her. Worn

out and ill from that "fever of anxiety," to use his own words, which

he had endured since the middle of June, she attended and nursed him.

"Lady Hamilton," he exclaimed to Lady Nelson, with enthusiasm

undiscriminating in more ways than one, "is one of the very best women

in this world; she is an honour to her sex." A week later he tells

her, with an odd collocation of persons: "My pride is being your

husband, the son of my dear father, and in having Sir William and Lady

Hamilton for my friends. While these approve my conduct, I shall not

feel or regard the envy of thousands." The matter was passing rapidly

into the platonic stage, in which Sir William was also erelong

assigned an appropriate, if not wholly flattering, position. "What can

I say of hers and Sir William's attention to me? They are in fact,

with the exception of you and my good father, the dearest friends I

have in this world. I live as Sir William's son in the house, and my

glory is as dear to them as their own; in short, I am under such

obligations as I can never repay but with my eternal gratitude."

"Naples is a dangerous place," he sagely tells Lord St. Vincent, "and

we must keep clear of it. I am writing opposite Lady Hamilton,

therefore you will not be surprised at the glorious jumble of this

letter. Were your Lordship in my place, I much doubt if you could

write so well; our hearts and our hands must be all in a flutter."

Matters progressed; within ten days the veteran seaman learned, among

other concerns of more or less official importance, that "Lady

Hamilton is an Angel. She has honoured me by being my ambassadress to

the queen: therefore she has my implicit confidence and is worthy of

it."

That such intimacy and such relations resulted in no influence upon

the admiral's public action is not to be believed. That he consciously

perverted his views is improbable, but that he saw duty under other

than normal lights is not only probable, but evident. His whole

emotional nature was stirred as it never had been. Incipient love and

universal admiration had created in him a tone of mind, and brought to

birth feelings, which he had, seemingly, scarcely known. "I cannot

write a stiff formal public letter," he tells St. Vincent effusively.

"You must make one or both so. I feel you are my friend, and my heart

yearns to you." Such extravagance of expression and relaxation of

official tone has no pertinent cause, and is at least noteworthy. The

Court, or rather the Queen through Lady Hamilton, took possession of

him. He became immediately one of the little coterie centring round

Her Majesty, and he reflected its tone and partisanship, which,

fostered probably in the intimate conversations of the two women, were

readily transmitted to the minister by the wife whom he adored. The

Queen, impetuous, enterprising, and headstrong, like her mother and

sister, moved more by feminine feelings of hatred and revenge against

the French than by well-balanced considerations of policy, not only

favored war, but wished to precipitate the action of the Emperor by

immediately attacking the French in the Roman territory. The decision

and daring of such a course was so consonant to Nelson's own

temperament that he readily sympathized; but it is impossible to admit

its wisdom, from either a political or military standpoint. It was an

excessively bad combination, substituting isolated attacks for

co-operation, and risking results upon the chance of prompt support,

by a state which would be offended and embarrassed by the step taken.

Under ordinary conditions Nelson might have seen this, but he was well

handled. Within three days he had been persuaded that upon his

personal presence depended the salvation of Italy. "My head is quite

healed, and, if it were necessary, I could not at present leave Italy,

who looks up to me as, under God, its Protector." He continually, by

devout recollection of his indebtedness to God, seeks to keep himself

in hand. "I am placed by Providence in that situation, that all my

caution will be necessary to prevent vanity from showing itself

superior to my gratitude and thankfulness,"--but the current was too

strong for him, and was swollen to a torrent by the streams of

adulation, which from all quarters flowed in upon a temperament only

too disposed to accept them. "Could I, my dearest Fanny," he writes to

Lady Nelson, "tell you half the honours which are shown me here, not a

ream of paper would hold it." A grand ball was given on his birthday,

September 29; and a rostral column was "erected under a magnificent

canopy, never, Lady Hamilton says, to come down while they remain at

Naples." Within a week the conviction of his own importance led him to

write to Lady Hamilton, evidently for transmission to the Queen, an

opinion, or rather an urgent expression of advice, that Naples should

at once begin war. It is only conjectural to say that this opinion,

which rested on no adequate knowledge of the strength of the

Neapolitan Kingdom, was elicited by the Queen through Lady Hamilton;

but the inference derives support from the words, "I have read with

admiration the queen's dignified and incomparable letter of September,

1796,"--two years before. That his views were not the simple outcome

of his own unbiassed study of the situation is evident enough. "This

country, by its system of procrastination, will ruin itself," he

writes to St. Vincent, the very day after drawing up the letter in

question; "the queen sees it and thinks"--not as I do, but--"as _we_

do." That Lady Hamilton was one of the "we" is plain, for in the

postscript to the letter he says: "Your Ladyship will, I beg, receive

this letter as a _preparative for Sir William Hamilton,_ to whom I am

writing, with all respect, the firm and unalterable opinion of a

British admiral," etc. Certainly these words--taken with those already

quoted, and written just a week afterwards, "Lady Hamilton has been my

ambassadress to the queen"--indicate that she was the intermediary

between Nelson and the Court, as well as between him and her husband.

There is no record of any official request for this unofficial and

irregular communication of the opinion of a British admiral; and, of

course, when a man has allowed himself, unasked, though not

unprompted, to press such a line of action, he has bound himself

personally, and embarrassed himself officially, in case it turns out

badly. Nelson very soon, within a fortnight, had to realize this, in

the urgent entreaties of the Court not to forsake them; and to see

reason for thinking "that a strong wish for our squadron's being on

the Coast of Naples is, that in case of any mishap, that their

Majesties think their persons much safer under the protection of the

British flag than under any other;" that is--than under their own.

They could not trust their own people; they could not, as the event

proved, trust their army in the field; and the veteran Neapolitan

naval officer, Caracciolo, whether he deserved confidence or not, was

stung to the quick when, in the event, they sought refuge with a

foreign admiral instead of with himself. That Nelson should not have

known all this, ten days after reaching Naples, was pardonable enough,

and, if formally asked for advice without such facts being placed

before him, he could not be responsible for an error thus arising; but

the case is very different when advice is volunteered. He is more

peremptory than the minister himself. "You will not believe I have

said or done anything, without the approbation of Sir William

Hamilton. His Excellency is too good to them, and the strong language

of an English Admiral telling them plain truths of their miserable

system may do good."

The particular position of Naples relatively to France was this.

French troops had for a year past occupied the Roman Republic, which

had been established by them upon the overthrow of the Papal

Government. Their presence there was regarded by Nelson as a constant

threat to the Two Sicilies, and this to an extent was true; but rather

because of the contagion of revolutionary ideas than from the military

point of view. From the latter, it should have been obvious to a man

like Nelson that the French must be deterred, under existing

conditions, from entering Naples unprovoked; because the farther they

advanced the more exposed was their army, in case war, which was

darkly threatening, should be renewed in Upper Italy. They dared not,

unless by folly, or because first attacked, prolong their already too

extended ex-centric movement into Lower Italy. This was true, taking

account of Austria only; but now that the British fleet was released

by the entire destruction of the French at the Nile, and could operate

anywhere on the coast, it would be doubly imprudent; and when the news

that it had been done reached Egypt, Bonaparte, who had himself felt

the weight of Naples as a possible enemy, remote and feeble as she

was, exclaimed, "Italy is lost!" That Naples should co-operate in the

general movement against France was right, although, as Nelson well

knew, she had never dared do so under much more favorable

conditions,--a fact which by itself should have suggested to him

caution; but that she should act alone, with the idea of precipitating

war, refusing to await the moment fixed by the principal states, was

folly. This, however, was the course determined, under the combined

impulse of the Queen, Lady Hamilton, and Nelson; and it was arranged

that, after visiting the blockade off Malta, he should return to

Naples to co-operate in the intended movement.

On the 15th of October Nelson sailed from Naples for Malta in the

"Vanguard," with three ships-of-the-line which had lately joined him.

He still felt, with accurate instinct, that Egypt and the Ionian

Islands, with Malta, constituted the more purely maritime interests,

in dealing with which the fleet would most further the general cause,

and he alludes frequently to his wish to attend to them; but he

promised the King that he would be back in Naples in the first week of

November, to support the projected movement against the French. He

remained off Malta, therefore, only one week, during which adequate

arrangements were made for the blockade of the island, which had been

formally proclaimed on the 12th of October, and was conducted for most

of the following year by the Portuguese squadron; the senior British

officer, Captain Ball, acting ashore with the insurgent Maltese. These

had risen against the French during the summer, and now held them shut

up in La Valetta. The adjacent island of Gozo surrendered to the

British on the 28th. Hood continued in charge off Alexandria with

three ships-of-the-line; while the Ionian Islands were left to

themselves, until a combined Russian and Turkish squadron entered the

Mediterranean a few weeks later.

On the 5th of November Nelson returned to Naples. "I am, I fear, drawn

into a promise that Naples Bay shall never be left without an English

man-of-war. I never intended leaving the coast of Naples without one;

but if I had, who could resist the request of such a queen?" He could

ground much upon the Admiralty's orders, given when he was first sent

into the Mediterranean, to protect the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies,

and he had understood that the Emperor also would give his aid, if

Naples attacked. This impression received strength from an Austrian

general, Mack,--then of high reputation, but afterwards better known

by his surrender to Napoleon at Ulm, in 1805,--being sent to command

the Neapolitan army. Sir William Hamilton, however, writing on the

26th of October, was more accurate in saying that the Emperor only

advised the King "to act openly against the French _at Malta_, as he

would certainly support him;" for, Naples having a feudal claim upon

the island, action there could be represented as merely resistance to

aggression. In consequence of this misunderstanding, great confusion

ensued in the royal councils when a courier from Vienna brought word,

on the 13th of November, that that Court wished it left to the French

to begin hostilities; otherwise, it would give no assurance of help.

Nelson was now formally one of the Council which deliberated upon

military operations. In virtue of this position he spoke out, roughly

enough. "I ventured to tell their Majesties that one of the following

things must happen to the King, and he had his choice,--'Either to

advance, trusting to God for his blessing on a just cause, to die with

_l'épée à la main_, or remain quiet and be kicked out of your

Kingdoms.'" Thus rudely adjured, the King decided to be a hero after

the pattern of Nelson.

On the 22d of November a summons was sent to the French to evacuate

the Papal States and Malta, and a Neapolitan army marched upon Rome,

commanded by Mack in person. At the same time Nelson took on board his

squadron a corps of five thousand, to seize Leghorn, the possession of

which, with control of the sea, was not unjustly considered

threatening to the communications between the centre of French power,

in Northern Italy, and the exposed corps at the foot of the peninsula.

After landing this body, Nelson again went to Naples, leaving

Troubridge in charge at Leghorn, with several ships; directing him

also to keep vessels cruising along the Riviera, and before Genoa, to

break up the coastwise traffic, which had resumed great proportions

since the absence of the British from the Mediterranean, and upon

which the French army in Piedmont and Lombardy now greatly depended.

On the 5th of December the "Vanguard" once more anchored at Naples.

Nelson's estimate of affairs as he now found them, is best told in his

own words. "The state of this Country is briefly this: The army is at

Rome, Civita Vecchia taken, but in the Castle of St. Angelo are five

hundred French troops. The French have thirteen thousand troops at a

strong post in the Roman State, called Castellana. General Mack is

gone against them with twenty thousand: the event in my opinion is

doubtful, and on it hangs the immediate fate of Naples. If Mack is

defeated, this country, in fourteen days, is lost; for the Emperor

has not yet moved his army, and if the Emperor will not march, this

country has not the power of resisting the French. But it was not a

case of choice, but necessity, which forced the King of Naples to

march out of his country, and not to wait till the French had

collected a force sufficient to drive him, in a week, out of his

kingdom." It is by no means so sure that no other course of action had

been open, though Nelson naturally clung to his first opinion. By

advancing, the King gave the French occasion, if they were seeking

one; and the Neapolitan army, which might well have deterred them, as

it had embarrassed even Bonaparte in his time, had its rottenness

revealed as only trial can reveal. When reviewed, it had appeared to

Mack and Nelson a well-equipped force of thirty thousand of the

"finest troops in Europe." Brought face to face with fifteen thousand

French, in a month it ceased to exist.

Upon Mack's advance, the French general Championnet had evacuated

Rome, into which the King made a vainglorious triumphal entry. The

French retired to Castellana, followed by the Neapolitans; but in the

campaign that ensued the latter behaved with disgraceful cowardice.

Flying in every direction, with scarcely any loss in killed, and

preceded in their flight by the King, the whole force retreated in

confusion upon the capital. There revolutionary ideas had spread

widely among the upper classes; and, although the populace both in

city and country remained fanatically loyal, and hostile to the

French, the King and Queen feared to trust their persons to the issue

of events. Powerless through suspicions of those around them,

apparently well founded, and through lack of any instrument with which

to act, now that their army was destroyed, their one wish was to

escape to Palermo.

To do this involved some difficulty, as the mob, like that of Paris,

was bitterly opposed to their sovereign leaving the capital; but by

the management and determination of Nelson, who was greatly helped by

the courage and presence of mind of Lady Hamilton, the royal family

was embarked on board the "Vanguard" on the evening of December 21st.

During several previous days treasure to the amount of two and a half

millions sterling was being conveyed secretly to the ship. "The whole

correspondence relative to this important business," wrote Nelson to

St. Vincent, "was carried on with the greatest address by Lady

Hamilton and the Queen, who being constantly in the habits of

correspondence, no one could suspect." On the evening of the 23d the

"Vanguard" sailed, and after a most tempestuous passage reached

Palermo on the 26th. The youngest of the princes, six years old, taken

suddenly with convulsions, died on the way in the arms of Lady

Hamilton, whose womanly helpfulness, as well as her courage, came out

strongly in this trying time. Nelson wrote to St. Vincent: "It is my

duty to tell your Lordship the obligations which the whole royal

family as well as myself are under on this trying occasion to her

Ladyship." These scenes inevitably deepened the impression she had

already made upon him, which was not to be lessened by her lapse into

feminine weakness when the strain was over. To use her own words, in a

letter to her old lover, Greville, "My dear, adorable queen and I

_weep together_, and now that is our onely comfort." "Our dear Lady

Hamilton," Nelson wrote again a few days later, "whom to see is to

admire, but, to know, are to be added honour and respect; her head and

heart surpass her beauty, which cannot be equalled by anything I have

seen." Upon himself the brief emergency and its sharp call to action

had had the usual reviving effect. "Thank God," he wrote to Spencer,

"my health is better, my mind never firmer, and my heart in the right

trim to comfort, relieve, and protect those who it is my duty to

afford assistance to."

In Palermo Nelson again lived in the minister's house, bearing a

large, if not a disproportionate, share of the expenses. When they

returned to England in 1800, Hamilton was £2,000 in his debt. The

intimacy and the manner of life, in the midst of the Neapolitan court,

whose corruptness of manners both Nelson and Troubridge openly

condemned, was already causing scandal, rumors of which were not long

in reaching home. "I am quite concerned," wrote Captain Ball to

Saumarez, when Nelson was about to quit the station, "at the many

severe paragraphs which have been put in the newspapers respecting him

and Lady Hamilton. I am convinced that there has not been anything

improper between them--his Lordship could not fail being delighted

with her accomplishments and manners, which are very fascinating."

Lady Nelson, uneasy as a wife could not fail to be at reports

affecting her husband's honor, and threatening her own happiness,

quickly formed, and for a time entertained, the thought of joining him

on the station; but, if she broached the idea to Nelson, he certainly

discouraged it. Writing to her on the 10th of April, 1799, he said:

"You would by February have seen how unpleasant it would have been had

you followed _any_ advice, which carried you from England to a

wandering sailor. I could, if you had come, _only_ have struck my

flag, and carried you back again, for it would have been impossible to

have set up an establishment at either Naples or Palermo."[75]

The scandal increased apace after his headquarters were fixed at

Palermo. Lady Minto, writing from Vienna to her sister, in July, 1800,

says: "Mr. Rushout and Colonel Rooke,[76] whom I knew in Italy, are

here. Mr. Rushout is at last going home. He escaped from Naples at the

same time as the King did in Nelson's ship, and remained six months at

Palermo; so I had a great deal of intelligence concerning the Hero

and his Lady ... Nelson and the Hamiltons all lived together in a

house of which he bore the expense, which was enormous, and every sort

of gaming went on half the night. Nelson used to sit with large

parcels of gold before him, and generally go to sleep, Lady Hamilton

taking from the heap without counting, and playing with his money to

the amount of £500 a night. Her rage is play, and Sir William says

when he is dead she will be a beggar. However, she has about £30,000

worth of diamonds from the royal family in presents. She sits at the

Councils, and rules everything and everybody." Some of these

statements are probably beyond the personal knowledge of the narrator,

and can only be accepted as current talk; but others are within the

observation of an eye-witness, evidently thought credible by Lady

Minto, who was a friend to Nelson. Mr. Paget, who succeeded Hamilton

as British minister, mentions the same reports, in his private letter

to Lord Grenville, the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs.

Hamilton had asked to see his instructions. "I decided at once not to

do so, for he would certainly have been obliged to show them to Lady

Hamilton, who would have conveyed them next moment to the queen ...

Lord Nelson's health is, I fear, sadly impaired, and I am assured that

his fortune is fallen into the same state, in consequence of great

losses which both his Lordship and Lady Hamilton have sustained at

Faro and other games of hazard."[77]

The impressions made upon Lord Elgin, who touched at Palermo on his

way to the embassy at Constantinople, are worth quoting; for there has

been much assertion and denial as to what did go on in that

out-of-the-way corner of the world, Lady Hamilton ascribing the

falsehoods, as she claimed they were, to the Jacobinical tendencies of

those who spread them. "During a week's stay at Palermo, on my

passage here," wrote Elgin, "the necessity of a change in our

representative, and in our conduct there, appeared to me most urgent.

You may perhaps know from Lord Grenville how strong my impression on

that subject was."[78] Troubridge, a pattern of that most faithful

friendship which dares to risk alienation, if it may but save, wrote

urgently to his chief: "Pardon me, my Lord, it is my sincere esteem

for you that makes me mention it. I know you can have no pleasure

sitting up all night at cards; why, then, sacrifice your health,

comfort, purse, ease, everything, to the customs of a country, where

your stay cannot be long? I would not, my Lord, reside in this country

for all Sicily. I trust the war will soon be over, and deliver us from

a nest of everything that is infamous, and that we may enjoy the

smiles of our countrywomen. Your Lordship is a stranger to half that

happens, or the talk it occasions; if you knew what your friends feel

for you, I am sure you would cut all the nocturnal parties. The

gambling of the people at Palermo is publicly talked of everywhere. I

beseech your Lordship leave off. I wish my pen could tell you my

feelings, I am sure you would oblige me. I trust your Lordship will

pardon me; it is the sincere esteem I have for you that makes me risk

your displeasure."[79] To this manly appeal Nelson seems to have made

no reply; none at least is quoted.

FOOTNOTES:

[70] Colburn's United Service Magazine, 1847, part ii. p. 52.

[71] Afterwards Mrs. Trench, the mother of Archbishop Trench.

[72] Beckford's Memoirs, London, 1859, vol. ii. p. 326.

[73] Compare an equally strong assertion, Nicolas's Despatches, vol. vi. p.

99.

[74] St. Vincent at this time had not met her, at least as Lady Hamilton,

but they exchanged occasional letters.

[75] Pettigrew, vol. i. p. 220.

[76] Lord Minto was at this time ambassador to Vienna. Rushout and Rooke

were men well known on the Continent. Both are mentioned with some

particularity in the Memoirs of Pryse Lockhart Gordon, another continental

rambler.

[77] The Paget Papers, London, 1896, p. 185.

[78] The Paget Papers, London, 1896, p. 219.

[79] Clarke and M'Arthur, vol. ii. p. 355.

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