Memoirs of Emma, lady Hamilton, the friend of Lord Nelson and the court of Naples; (31 page)

But a fresh influence was also, may be, about to steal into her being. To the pinch of adversity and her misgivings for the Queen she loved, was now being

added the stress of a passion half realised but hard to resist. She would not have been the emotional woman that she was, if in some shape, however dimly, religion as consoler had not whispered in the recesses of her heart. Hitherto among her immediate surroundings only Nelson could have been called really religious. He was a strong Protestant. But as she beheld the Queen comforted by an older ritual and a communion less severe, it may have crossed her mind that the ceremonies which she had mocked as superstitions held in them some rare power of healing. Southern religion thrives on its adopted and hybrid forms, as to this day is attested by Sicilian peasants hugging the image of their swarthy saint; Sicilian reapers chanting their weird litany to the sinking sun; Sicilian farmers meting out their harvested grain by their image of the rosaried Madonna. There was at this time at Palermo an Abbe Campbell, who had followed the fugitives thitherward. Twelve years before, he had been chaplain to the Neapolitan Embassy in London, and is said to have been the priest who secretly united the future George IV. to Mrs. Fitzherbert. He was a genial soul, in the world but not wholly of it, musical and romantic. He remained constant to Emma throughout her chequered fortunes, and in future years he often crosses her path again and Nelson's. One may guess that through him first arose those promptings that eventually made Emma a proselyte to the faith that, perhaps above others, openly welcomes the strayed and the fallen.

Troubridge girded to his work as Jacobin-killer in grim earnest. The Governor of Procida, its peasants and Ischia's, were loyal to the core. The English sailor was acclaimed by the people as a deliverer from a faction; and he was not over-squeamish in his task of quelling what Lord Bristol termed to Hamilton " that

gang of thieves, pickpockets, highwaymen, cut-throats and cut-purses called the French Republic." "Oh!" wrote Troubridge to Nelson, " how I long to have a dash at the thieves." And again, " The villainy we must combat is great indeed. I have just flogged a rascal for loading bread with sand. The loaf was hung round his neck in sight of the people." The " trials " of rebels he admits to be " curious," as the culprits were frequently " not present." He actually apologised to Nelson, on the score of hot weather, for not sending him a Jacobin's head; with charming pleasantry he calls the donor " a jolly fellow." The " rascally nobles, tired of standing as common sentinels," confessed that sheer discomfort had loyalised them. Even here Lady Hamilton's energy was conspicuous. She exerted herself for the Queen in communicating with the island, while Troubridge in his turn forwarded documents to her. She had got conveyed to him a letter from the Queen intended for Pignatelli. The bearer, Troubridge's servant, was loaded by the noble with irons. " I trust before long," Troubridge exclaimed, " I shall have a pull at his nose for it. I have two or three to settle with if we get in." He was " mad" at the infamous conduct of the officers despatched to him by the King. They had violated discipline, and a promise was given that they should be court-martialled. But the most important statement of his despatches to Nelson relates to Caracciolo, who must have been trusted, or he would not have been suffered to return home whether his errand was his own or his master's. " I am now satisfied," declares Troubridge, " that he is a Jacobin. He came in the gunboat to Castellamare himself and spirited up the Jacobins." By April 7 Troubridge had reduced the Neapolitan islands.

Prospects at last looked brighter. Ruffo had nearly

subdued the provinces, and the Austrians at length, in formal alliance with Naples, Russia, and the Porte, had rejoiced the Queen by their victory at Padua. It was commemorated by a salute from the British fleet. The Bishop of Derry—now at Augsburg—communicated the news to Emma in an amusing letter, which opens with her own favourite " Hip, hip, hip, huzza, huzza, huzza ! " Ball was now pushing forward the Maltese operations, while Duckworth had been active near the Balearic islands. On every point of the Mediterranean compass Nelson kept his watchful eye. But for him the Mediterranean was mainly a theatre for the as yet invisible French frigates. The spectre of that squadron haunted him by night and day; he hankered after the moment when he could re-attack it. It was for him what Godolphin was for Charles the Second—never in and never out of the way.

Early in May, the brig L'Espoir brought Nelson the glad tidings that the French fleet had quitted Brest, and had been seen off Oporto. He at once concerted plans with Lord St. Vincent, Troubridge, and Duckworth. It was said to consist at most of nineteen ships and ten frigates or sloops. Its destination was unknown. By May its junction with the ships of Spain had been notified.

Nelson made sure that the Two Sicilies were intended, and that France still hoped by one decisive stroke to end at once monarchy and independence. He pressed Lord St. Vincent on no account to remove him from the impending action, wherever it might take place. He feared that St. Vincent's failing health, which necessitated his resignation, might help the French to elude the commander's vigilance. In the end, elude it they did.

He resolved to cruise off Maritimo as the likeliest point of sight, and on May 13 he was on board the

Vanguard. But contrary winds intervened, and kept him waiting for Duckworth's vessels till the 2Oth, to his keen vexation. His absence heightened the attachment with which he had inspired the Hamiltons. " I can assure you," wrote Hamilton amid the festivities that even at such a moment celebrated the birth of a son to the Imperial House of Austria, " I can assure you that neither Emma nor I knew how much we loved you until this separation, and we are convinced your Lordship feels the same as we do." And on other occasions Sir William writes to Nelson most intimately and admiringly, dating one of his letters " near wind-ing-up-watch hour." Two of his three remaining letters to Emma, before he started, open a little window both on to the interior of the Hamiltons' menage and of his own heart. On the I2th he writes:—

" MY DEAR LADY HAMILTON, —Accept my sincere thanks for your kind letter. Nobody writes so well: therefore pray say not you write ill; for if you do, I will say what your goodness sometimes told me—' You lie!' I can read and perfectly understand every word you write. We drank your and Sir William's health. Troubridge, Louis, Hallowell and the new Portuguese captain dined here. I shall soon be at Palermo, for this business must very soon be settled. ... I am pleased with little Mary: kiss her for me. I thank all the house for their regard. God bless you all! I shall send on shore if fine to-morrow; for the feluccas are going to leave us, and I am sea-sick. I have got the piece of wood for the tea-chest: it shall soon be sent. Pray, present my humble duty and gratitude to the Queen."

On the iQth—

" To tell you how dreary and uncomfortable the Vanguard appears, is only telling you what it is to go

from the pleasantest society to a solitary cell, or from the dearest friends to no friends. I am now perfectly the,great man —not a creature near me. From my heart I wish myself the little man again! You and good Sir William have spoiled me for any place but with you. I love Mrs. Cadogan. You cannot conceive what I feel when I call you all to my remembrance, even to Mira, do not forget your faithful and affectionate, Nelson."

Indeed, all these days he was in constant correspondence with the Hamiltons. On May 25, so great was his admiration for them, that he drew up his first codicil—a precursor of many to come—in their favour. To Emma he bequeathed " the nearly round box" set with diamonds, the gift of the Sultan's mother; to her husband fifty guineas for a memorial ring. For his risks were now great; he carried his life in his hands. The French contingent should still be found: his efforts were bent on more ships, that success might be assured when the clash of arms must recur.

Up to May 28, when he again landed at Palermo, he was still without sight, without result, though not wholly without effect. He resolved to withdraw some ships from Malta and concentrate his whole forces. On June 8, as Rear-Admiral of the Red, he had shifted from the Vanguard to the Foudroyant. By June 12 he heard of Lord St. Vincent's intention to return home, and his replacement by Lord Keith, with genuine distress. " If you are sick," he wrote to him, " I will fag for you, and our dear Lady Hamilton will nurse you with the most affectionate attention. Good Sir William will make you laugh with his wit and inexhaustible pleasantry. . . . Come then to your sincere friends."

Still not a glimpse of the French fleet. But large

issues were pending. The very day before the date of this invitation to his commander, the Queen herself addressed to him a pleading letter. The state of Naples, the uncertainty as to the enemy's movements, had decided her on a definite plan. An expedition, forestalling the arrival of the Gallic squadron, might strike a bloodless blow. The bloodshed even of her enemies was far, she urged, from her thoughts. The heir-apparent, as representative of his family, would accompany him and chafe the embers of Neapolitan loyalty into a blaze. " Other duties " obliged her to remain at Palermo. He would earn the " sincere and profound gratitude " of his " devoted friend." At the same time—and this is the key to after events—Ferdinand himself conferred on him the fullest powers. In every sense of the word he was to be his plenipotentiary. Already a month before, Nelson had despatched Foote with a commission to reduce the mainland, as Troubridge had reduced the islands. Foote, Thurn, and Governor Curtis had already issued their proclamation of a Neapolitan blockade, and had bidden the insurgents take advantage of clemency while there was yet time. Had they only complied, a chapter of misery would have been avoided; but, divided as they were, they still trusted to the invisible French fleet. Short shrift was to be granted to rebels and traitors. Only the misguided and the innocent were to be spared. Already Foote reported that thirteen Jacobins had been hung. The Queen poured out her renewed hopes and prayers to Lady Hamilton.

Emma was all devotion and excitement, yet misgivings blent with her hopes. Who could foretell the issues? After all, the moment must decide. And who could foresee her own part in this great struggle ? Out of a narrow room she had been lifted into the spheres. Even as she pondered, Greville—Greville

of the suburban " retreat"—was writing to her husband that the eyes of Europe were now fixed on Italy. He had already been trumpeting her own achievements to the Prince of Wales: " Many and all " admired her much; she had been " instrumental in good." " Tell Lady Hamilton," was his message, " with my kindest remembrances, that all her friends love her more than ever, and those who did not know her admire her." Greville, then, had at length learned to know her worth. His " crystals " would hardly have weighed in the scale if, thirteen years ago, his appraisement had been one of insight.

Nelson responded to the Queen with all his heart. His zeal quickened with uncertainty. Lady Hamilton was the Queen's friend, and Lady Hamilton's friends were his. Maria Carolina was " a great woman," and greatness was his affinity. He thought in dominants—the predominance of his country; and Naples loyalised would signify France quelled. Ruffo was fast advancing from the provinces against the forsworn city. The Neapolitan Jacobins were on tenterhooks for even an inkling of the French squadron, their deliverer. What Nelson dreaded was that the Franco-Hispanian force might be joined by ships from Toulon. In that event he would be fighting against heavy odds; and his "principle," as he afterwards assured Lord Spencer, " was to assist in driving the French to the devil, and in restoring peace and happiness to mankind."

And still of that veiled flotilla not a token.

It was reported as bearing on the Italian coast. Nelson had been eager to set off within about a week of the Queen's appeal. That appeal decided him to wait one week longer. Maria Carolina was impatient for a second Aboukir, and for such a stroke reinforcements were needed. On June 12 he and Sir William were

still concerting their plans. The Queen now used the Hamiltons for her purposes and urged them to fasten her champion's resolve by accompanying him. Emma was ill, worn with inward struggle and suspense; her patroness was perpetually and anxiously inquiring after her health, Sir William was almost prostrate with indisposition. He wrote that Emma " was unwell and low-spirited with phantoms in her fertile brain that torment her . . . too much Sensibility "; he hoped Nelson was not " fretting" his " guts to fiddle-strings." Emma shrank from the turbid scenes that she would be called upon to interpret and to encounter; she also dimly dreaded the results of constant association with her hero. But her knowledge of men, circumstances, and language would be indispensable on this fateful errand, and already on June 12 she thus, as Queen's advocate, besought Nelson:—

" Thursday evening, June 12.

" I have been with the Queen this evening. She is very miserable, and says, that although the people of Naples are for them in general, yet things will not be brought to that state of quietness and subordination till the Fleet of Lord Nelson appears off Naples. She therefore begs, intreats, and conjures you, my dear Lord, if it is possible, to arrange matters so as to be able to go to Naples. Sir William is writing for General Acton's answer. For God's sake consider it, and do! We will go with you if you will come and fetch us.

"Sir William is ill; I am ill: it will do us good. God bless you! Ever, ever, yours sincerely."

The Queen's insistence, Emma's mediation, permeate every line. Just after this manner, some thirteen years earlier, the mimic Muse had echoed Greville

in her answer to the invitation that first lured her to Naples.

Her heart was heavy with forebodings. She would have much to do and perhaps to suffer. She was charged with a triple task: to rehabilitate the Queen, to single out the traitors from the true amongst the notables, to assist Nelson in his " campaign." She knew that the risk would be great and the nervous strain severe. Privately, as well as publicly, she feared the uncertain upshot. Her phases of mind and mood and memory all joined in bodying forth the future. For thirteen years not a breath of scandal had sullied her name. She had long, indeed, been held up as a. pattern of conjugal virtue. Yet Josiah Nisbet, the boy whom both she and his stepfather had generously helped and forgiven, far more and oftener indeed than his own mother, was already tattling to that mother of the Calypso who was detaining Ulysses. Hitherto she could honestly acquit herself of the imputation. So much that was glorious had happened in so few months, that her tender friendship had been absorbed by memories and reveries of glory. And for her, glory meant honour. This is the clue to her nature. To honour she fancied that she, like Nelson, was dedicating existence. And now, even while she justified to herself the chances in relation to her own husband by the thought of a past debt amply repaid, she paused on the threshold of the irreparable, as the pale face of Nelson's unknown wife rose up before her. She had been only stiff and condescending to Emma's warm-hearted advances immediately after the battle of the Nile. Was this cold partner jealous then, and spiteful without an overt cause? Let her covert suspicions dare their worst; Emma would brave them out. And another and higher feeling mixed with her agitations. She was quitting her much-loved mother,