Memoirs of Emma, lady Hamilton, the friend of Lord Nelson and the court of Naples; (41 page)

1 " Suppose I did say that the West Country women wore black stockings, what is it more than if you was to say what puppies all the present young men are? You cannot help your eyes, and God knows I cannot see much." Morrison MS. 514.

however, he again changes his note; he trusts his " dear Lady " to " do him full justice, and to make her dear mind at ease for ever, for ever and ever." But on February 17 he burst out afresh: " I am so agitated that I can write nothing. I knew it would be so, and you can't help it. Do not sit long at table. Good God! He will be next you, and telling you soft things. If he does, tell it out at table, and turn him out of the house. . . . Oh, God! that I was dead! But I do not, my dearest Emma, blame you, nor do I fear your constancy. ... I am gone almost mad, but you cannot help it. It will be in all the newspapers with hints. ... I could not write another line if I was to be made King. If I was in town, nothing should make me dine with you that damned day, but, my dear Emma, I do not blame you, only remember your poor miserable friend. That you must be singing and appear gay! ... I have read . . . your resolution never to go where the fellow is, but you must have him at home. Oh, God! but you cannot, I suppose, help it, and you cannot turn him out of your own house. ... I see your determination to be on your guard, and as fixed as fate. ... I am more dead than alive ... to the last breath your's. If you cannot get rid of this, I hope you will tell Sir William never to bring the fellow again." " 'Tis not that I believe you will do anything that injures me, but I cannot help saying a few words on that fellow's dining with you, for you do not believe it to be out of love for Sir William. . . . You have been taken in. You that are such a woman of good sense, put so often on your guard by myself [against] Mrs. Udney, Mrs. Spilsbury, Mrs. Dent, and Mrs. Nisbet. ... I knew that he would visit you, and you could not help coming downstairs when the Prince was there. . . . But his words are so charming that, I am told, no person can withstand them. If I

Memoirs—Vol. 14—12

had been worth ten millions I would have betted every farthing that you would not have gone into the house knowing that he was there, and if you did, which I would not have believed, that you would have sent him a proper message by Sir William, and sent him to hell. And knowing your determined courage when you had got down, I would have laid my head upon the block with the axe uplifted, and said ' strike/ if Emma does not say to Sir William before the fellow, ' my character cannot, shall not suffer by permitting him to visit.' . . . Hush, hush, my poor heart, keep in my breast, be calm, Emma is true. . . . But no one, not even Emma, could resist the serpent's flattering tongue. . . . What will they all say and think, that Emma is like other women, when I would have killed anybody who had said so. ... Forgive me. I know I am almost distracted, but I have still sense enough left to burn every word of yours. . . . All your pictures are before me. What will Mrs. Denis say, and what will she sing— Be Calm, lie Gentle, the Wind has Changed? Do you go to the opera tonight? They say he sings well. I have eat nothing but a little rice and drank water. But forgive me. I know my Emma, and don't forget that you had once a Nelson, a friend, a dear friend, but alas! he has his misfortunes. He has lost the best, his only friend, his only love. Don't forget him, poor fellow! He is honest. Oh! I could thunder and strike dead with my lightning. I dreamt it last night, my Emma. I am calmer. . . . Tears have relieved me; you never will again receive the villain to rob me. . . . May the heavens bless you! I am better. Only tell me you forgive me; don't scold me, indeed I am not worth it, and am to my last breath your's, and if not your's, no one's in the world. . . . You cannot now help the villain's dining with you. Get rid of it as well as you

can. Do not let him come downstairs with you or

hand you up. // you do, tell me, and then !"

" Forgive my letter wrote and sent last night, perhaps my head was a little affected. No wonder, it was such an unexpected, such a knock-down blow; such a death. But I will not go on, for I shall get out of my senses again. Will you sing for the fellow The Prince, unable to conceal his Pain, etc. ? No, you will not."

And here follows, like a lull in the storm, his joy at hearing from Emma herself that Sir William, " who asks all parties to dinner," was not to have his way; she had resolved to evade the Prince. He cursed the would-be intruder. Even now he implored her not to risk being at home that next Sunday evening, but to dine with Mrs. Denis. If the Prince still insisted on coming, Emma must be away. But till he had certainty he would continue to starve himself. He thanked her " ten thousand times." She was never to say that her letters bored him; they were'" the only real comfort of his life." If ever he proved false to her, might " God's vengeance" light upon him. Parker knew his love for her—" who does not ? " He was " all astonishment at her uncle's conduct "; as for his " aunt," he did not care " a fig for her." He would buy Madame Le Brun's portrait of her as well as Romney's. Still, the yellow demon had not yet quite deserted him. He still brooded on imaginary fears and scenes. "Did you sit alone with the villain? No! I will not believe it. Oh, God! Oh, God! keep my sences. Do not let the rascal in. Tell the Duke x that you will never go to his house. Mr. G. 2 must be a scoundrel. He treated you once ill enough 3 and cannot love you, or he would sooner die. ... I have this

1 Of Queensberry. 'Greville.

*This is proof positive that Nelson was aware of Emma's past.

moment got my orders to put myself under Sir Hyde Parker's orders, and suppose I shall be ordered to Portsmouth to-morrow or next day, and then I will try to get to London for 3 days. May Heaven bless us, but don't let that fellow dine with you. . . . Forget every cross word: I now live." That very night he received the assurance of Emma's staunch determination, however Sir William and Greville might remonstrate, and his answer breathes a profound and rapturous calm:—" Your good sense, judgment, and proper firmness must endear you to all your friends, and to none more than your old and firm friend Nelson. You have shown that you are above all temptation, and not to be drawn into the paths of dishonour for to gratify any prince, or to gain any riches. How Sir William can associate with a person of a character so diametrically opposed to his own—but I do not choose, as this letter goes through any hands, to enter more at large on this subject. I glory in your conduct and in your inestimable friendship. ... I wish you were my sister that I might instantly give you half my fortune for your glorious conduct. Be firm! Your cause is that of honour against infamy. . . . You know that I would not, in Sir William's case, have gone to Court without my wife, and such a wife, never to be matched. It is true you would grace a Court better as a Queen than a visitor." " Good Sir William," he added, must, on reflection, " admire your virtuous and proper conduct."

Nelson never forgot or ceased to praise Emma's conduct in this tickfish transaction. William Nelson shared his brother's admiration. But the lover holds her aloft as a matchless example in letters compatible with the most platonic affection. She is incomparable. The more he reads, the more he admires her " whole conduct." The thought of it inspired that " Santa

Emma " letter written in the May of this very year on the St. George off Rostock, one excerpt from which, canonising her as a saint, has been already quoted. It inspired another uncited passage addressed to Emma a few weeks later. " I now know he never can dine with you; for you would go out of the house sooner than suffer it: and as to letting him hear you sing, I only hope he will be struck deaf and you dumb, sooner than such a thing should happen! But I know it never now can. You cannot think how my feelings are alive towards you: probably more than ever: and they never can be diminished."

In strength of will, in picturesqueness, in emphasis, in courage, it must be acknowledged that Nelson and Emma were affinities.

The fresh correspondence between Emma and Mrs. William Nelson is interesting in relation to this episode, for through it we are enabled to hear Emma's own voice. It rings out true and clear, confirming every word that Nelson uttered. There is also here and there a touch in it of Emma as " stateswoman " once more. She never relaxed her interest in politics, and she was still in correspondence with Maria Carolina.

Emma had welcomed Nelson's wish that his sister-in-law should be with her at such a trying moment. Unfortunately, " Reverend Doctor " and his wife had ended their stay in town just before the Sunday of the party which haunted Nelson came round. At Nelson's request, however, the little woman, whose " tongue," he said, " never lay still," returned in the nick of time to fill the blank caused by his departure. On the very Friday of Nelson's two letters to Emma, she also took up her own tale to Mrs. Nelson. She was still in bed with a headache: ". . . It is such a pain to part with dear friends, and you and I liked each

.360 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON

other from the moment we met: our souls were congenial. Not so with Tom Tit, 1 for there was an antipathy not to be described. ... I received yesterday letters from that great adored being that we all so love, esteem, and admire. The more one knows him, the more one wonders at his greatness, his heart, his head booth so perfect. He says he is coming down to Spithead soon, he hopes. Troubridge comes to town to-day as one of the Lords, so he is settled for the present, but depend on it, my dear friend, this poor patched-up party can never hold long. A new coat will bear many a lag and tag as the vulgar phrase is, but an old patched mended one must tear. ... I am so unwell that I don't think we can have his Royal Highness to dinner on Sunday, which will not vex me. Addio, mia Cara arnica. You know as you are learning Italian, I must say a word or so. How dull my bedroom looks without you. I miss our little friendly confidential chats. But in this world nothing is compleat." And here Emma's philosophy follows:—" If all went on smoothly, one shou'd regret quitting it, but 'tis the many little vexations and crosses, separations from one's dear friends that make one not regret leaving it. . . ."

On February the 24th Nelson hurried to London before he finally set out for the Baltic in the second week of the next month. A note from Emma in this new series describes his arrival to Mrs. Nelson. The letter is franked by Nelson himself to " Hillborough, Brandon, Suffolk":—

" MY DEAREST FRIEND, —Your dear Brother arrived

this morning by seven o'clock. He stays only 3 days,

so by the time you wou'd be here, he will be gone.

How unlucky you went so soon. I am in health so so,

EMMA, LADY HAMILTON '361

but spirits to-day excellent. Oh, what real pleasure Sir William and I have in seeing this our great, good, virtuous Nelson. His eye is better. . . . Apropos Lady Nelson is at Brighton yet. The King, God bless him, is ill, and there are many speculations. Some say it is his old disorder. . . ."

And on the next day, February 25:—

". . . Your good, dear Brother has just left me to go to pay a visit to Mr. Nepean, but is coming back to dinner with Morice, his brother, whom he brings with him, and Troubridge also. We shall be comfortable, but more so if you had been here. Oh, I wish you was, and how happy would Milord have been to have had that happiness, to have walked out with Mrs. Nelson. . . . Our dear Nelson is very well in health. Poor fellow, he travelled allmost all night, but you that know his great, good heart will not be surprised at any act of friendship of his. I shall send for Charlotte to see him before he goes, and he has given 2 guineas for her. . . ."

On the following morning again:—

" Yesterday I cou'd not, my dearest friend, write much, and Milord was not yet returned from the Admiralty time enough to frank your letters, and sorry I was you shou'd pay for such trash that I sent you, but I thought you wou'd be uneasy. We had a pleasant evening [" and night "—erased]. I often thought on you, but now the subject of the King's illness gives such a gloom to everything. . . . Mr. Addington is not minister, for his commission was not signed before the King was taken so ill, so Mr. Pitt is yet first Lord. . . . Our good Lord Nelson is lodged at

Lothian's; Tom Tit, at the same place [Brighton]. The Cub x is to have a frigate, the Thalia. I suppose HE will be up in a day or so. I only hope he does not come near me. If he does, not at home shall be the answer. I am glad he is going. . . . Milord has only Allen with him. We supped and talked politics till 2. Mr. East [Este?] who is a pleasant man, was with us. . . . Oh, my dearest friend, our dear Lord is just come in. He goes off to-night and sails imediately. My heart is fit to Burst quite with greef. Oh, what pain, God only knows. I can only say may the All-mighty God bless, prosper, and protect him! I shall go mad with grief. Oh, God only knows what it is to part with such a friend, such a one. We were truly called the Tria juncta in uno, for Sir W., he, and I have but one heart in three bodies. . . . He, our great Nelson, sends his love to you. . . . My greif will not let me say more. Heavens bless you, answer your afflicted E. H,"