by David Taylor
On 11 September 1793, the Agamemnon slipped into the Bay of Naples and spent the night becalmed, allowing Post-Captain Horatio Nelson to watch the glow of a restless Vesuvius and write that "nothing could be finer than the view", whilst waiting for the wind to carry him into port. There an impatient Naples awaited the news of the war against revolutionary France, and King Ferdinand of Naples was so keen to have the despatches which Nelson carried that he had himself rowed out the next morning to meet the ship and hail this tangible proof that the British fleet was at hand.
England's involvement with Naples had come about through a treaty signed between England and the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies on 12 July 1793. The terms of the alliance included a promise that the Neapolitan court would provide 6,000 men for service in the war against France. Nelson had been despatched by Lord Hood to organise the transfer of these men to Toulon where the British were blockading the French fleet and were about to occupy the city against the French Republican Army.
Another visitor to
the Agamemnon was Sir William
Hamilton, British Minister Plenipotentiary in
Naples and the man responsible for organizing the
important alliance which would offer a safe base for
fleet operations in an increasingly hostile
Mediterranean. Equally importantly, in view of later
developments, Nelson would meet the Minister's second
wife, Emma, Lady Hamilton, whose machinations had helped
obtain the alliance and who, five years later would
involve Nelson in a ménage
à trois that would risk his reputation.
The sighting of a French man o' war off Sardinia had Nelson raise anchor and give pursuit after only a few days in Naples; he would not return for five years but had had a glimpse of the Hamilton's saloon society and, as his letters to his wife show, he had taken note of the woman who catalyzed this society.
The woman who had married Sir Hamilton in London two years prior to Nelson's visit had begun life inauspiciously as Emy Lyon, daughter to an illiterate Chesire blacksmith in about 1765. Moving to London at the age of twelve to become a nursery maid, she was noted in the company of a well-known madame, Mrs. Kelly, in 1779. By 1781, she had made the acquaintance of Sir Harry Fetherstonhaugh, who installed her as his mistress in a cottage on his estate in Sussex. Emy Lyon was now calling herself Emily Hart and, at sixteen and pregnant, she passed under the protection of Charles Greville (nephew to Sir Hamilton). Among the conditions of Greville's keeping her was that the child (christened Emma ) be given up to care, and that Emily keep a low profile, obey him and better herself. Greville housed her in the Edgeware Road, which was virtually rural in that period, and we find that although he kept Emma discreetly isolated, he was not so jealous of her beauty as to discourage her from sitting for portraits. He commissioned the artist Romney to undertake a series of portraits of Emma in classical poses and it appears that Romney valued his model highly enough to continue sketching and painting even when payment was not forthcoming.
Sir William Hamilton first met Emma during this period (she had changed her name again) and was sufficiently struck by her looks to commission Sir Joshua Reynolds to paint her as a Bacchante.
Emma, Sir William quickly disabused her of Greville's
intentions and set her up in an apartment in his own
residence despite Greville's warning that too much
society might undo Emma's pretensions to having become
a lady, causing her to revert to her old ways. He also
organized singing, French and Italian lessons for the
young woman, to which she applied herself greatly and
was soon being complimented on her Italian and her
voice: Sir William, whose wife had died a few years
previously had found a new interest to add to his
passion for antique vases, paintings, vulcanology and
the interminable hunting expeditions on which
attendance on King Ferdinand took him. His attentions
became channeled more and more into courting the young
woman (still despairing over her treatment by
Greville) whose efforts to improve herself had placed
her at the giddily revolving centre of a circle of
opera singers, painters, poets and diplomats. Her
attitudes—classical poses assumed for the edification
and delight of Sir William and a select circle of
friends—were greatly appreciated. Goethe visited the
couple at their apartment in Palazzo Sessa and wrote
that Sir William had "found (in her) all the
antiquities, all the profiles of Sicilian coins, even
the Apollo Belvedere".
Emma was able to develop contacts with the Royal Family of Naples—slowly moving into the confidence of Queen Maria Carolina, who was generally considered to be the true power behind the throne. Nonetheless, neither her status nor influence could be truly established whilst she remained unmarried. Therefore, in 1791, the couple visited England to obtain royal permission. Tacit consent was given and marriage took place on 6 September. Two days later, they were travelling through a turbulent France towards Naples.
Emma was now officially able to increase her sphere of influence in a kingdom which was beginning to feel the pressure created by the declaration of the French Republic on 20 September 1792 and its explicit threat to invade Naples.
The execution of the French nobility (1793) gave opportunity to the Hamiltons to turn Queen Carolina towards a protective alliance with England. The signing of this treaty was a feather in their cap and, as we have seen, was to draw Nelson into Emma's sphere.
After Nelson's departure in pursuit of the French, the Hamiltons continued to live, socialize, supervise excavations at Pompeii (Sir Hamilton was always ready to add to his collection of vases!) and keep an ear to the intrigues of a court where Ferdinand was secretly parleying with the French with a view to forming a peace treaty which was eventually made despite the Anglo-Neapolitan Alliance and his Queen's opposition. This left the English fleet without a Mediterranean base.
Not until 1797 did Neapolitans throw away all pretence of peace with France, and Queen Carolina begged the return of the English fleet that might help turn the French army that had advanced as far as Rome.
A fleet was hurriedly assembled and command given to Nelson, who quickly gave chase to the French fleet. The pursuit was long and it was not until the night of 1 August 1798 that the fleets fought off the coast of Alexandria with the English winning a resounding victory in what is now known as the Battle of the Nile.
On 22 September a victorious Vanguard brought a wounded and exhausted Nelson to a hero's welcome in Naples. He passed his fortieth birthday being nursed to health by Lady Hamilton. Meanwhile, the Neapolitan army undertook to march against Rome. The attack was immediately successful but the expected help from the Austrians did not materialize and the French army quickly re-organized to push the Neapolitans back to Caserta after just one week of occupation. Under the threat of invasion the decision was taken to evacuate the royal family to Palermo and Nelson offered the services of the two English ships which lay at anchor in the bay. The evacuation was complicated by the huge amounts of baggage and the degree of secrecy under which the operation had to be carried out for fear that the passionately devoted and patriotic population might prevent their king from leaving. Lady Hamilton's role was to organize the packaging and stowing of the Royal Family's valuables and possessions. Sir William was taken up with the packing of his vases. Everything had to be done with an air of "normality".
finally set sail on 23 December 1798, angering Naples
and a disgruntled Admiral
Caracciolo who had expected to take charge of
Neither the royal family nor the English trio were happy in Palermo, although some consolation was to be had in knowing that the French had met fierce, if brief resistance in taking Naples—from the very populace they were liberating! Nevertheless, the Parthenopean Republic was declared on 29 January 1799, but was to prove short-lived as Ferdinand despatched Cardinal Ruffo to raise a popular army against the French; by February Ruffo was marching on Naples with 17,000 Calabrians. News of this cheered the refugees in Palermo (Sir William was disconsolate at news of the loss in shipwreck of his collection of vases) and the English decided to recapture Ischia and Procida.
Nelson, during this
period, was actively discouraging his wife from joining
him; he told her she would be sent back if she came, as
the situation was unstable. It is difficult to say
whether she knew of her husband's growing affection for
Emma, but Nelson's reference to Emma in letters must
have aroused her suspicions.
20 June 1799 saw the English trio embarking secretly for Naples to restore order to the city which had now fallen to Ruffo, with the exception of Castle St. Elmo. Some of the decisions taken by Nelson during the six-week operation directed from the Bay of Naples still cause controversy: he completely overruled Ruffo's decision to allow armistice and free passage to the Republicans; Ruffo was arrested at Nelson's insistence; he had Caracciolo hanged from the yardarm for having sided with the Jacobins after the insult he felt he had suffered during the evacuation. Some justification for these tactics may be found in Queen Carolina's instructions to Nelson to treat Naples as though it were a rebellious city in Ireland. During operations, Emma undertook to act as the Queen's deputy and is credited with having placated an angry popolo by letting them know their Queen's desires.
[Southey's Life of Nelson
has a passage about the execution of Admiral
Caracciolo that you may read by clicking
By 2 August Naples was deemed secure and the Hamiltons took a parting look back at the city which had been their home, at the volcano over which Sir William had scrambled, and at the narrow roads and tall palazzi where post-republic recriminations and executions had swept away most of their circle and domestic bliss.
The trio now
had to face some recriminations of their own: Lord and
Lady Elgin met them in Palermo and the latter stated
that Nelson had become vainglorious and was completely
dominated by Emma. Lord Elgin was unimpressed by Sir
Hamilton's role in Palermo, feeling that his command
of office had been enfeebled by contact with the
licentious and often frivolous court on which he
attended; did he know of the motto in Sir William's
study in Naples which read, "La mia patria è dove
mi trovo bene"?
Sir William finally received his recall when news that his request for retirement (made in 1796!) had been accepted. Nelson was also recalled to service in the Channel fleet, a position he was reluctant to take, perhaps because of the separation from Emma which it implied. Indeed, evidence from this period suggests that sexual relations between the two had begun, the outcome of which was the birth of a daughter, Horatia, sometime in January 1801. Before his recall, and Lord Keith eventually bearing him away to Malta, Nelson seemed beyond the call of his superiors; he even used the flagship Foudroyant for a pleasure cruise round the Mediterranean for the tria juncta in uno (Sir William's term for the trio). Finally, though, the journey back to England was begun —overland from Leghorn (Livorno). Whilst in Leghorn, Emma is reputed to have admonished a crowd into releasing Queen Carolina, who had been taken hostage by the populace to force Nelson to lead them against the French. Nelson was given a hero's welcome at most places on the journey back until the party arrived in London to a chilly reception from Lady Nelson and an equally unequivocal display of antipathy by Lord Nelson towards her. Nelson would eventually estrange himself from his wife, giving her about half his income from the navy and giving food for gossip to his enemies.
Whilst the Hamiltons settled uncertainly into life in the capitol, Nelson continued his meteoric career, becoming Vice Admiral of the Blue in 1801. Emma was left to cover up her pregnancy and the parentage of the daughter born to her in Piccadily. Nelson indulged in some correspondence from his station on the Channel which ill-disguised his parental concern for Horatia; the naval censors would hardly have missed this. He also made some indiscreet amendments to his will. Despite Nelson being occasionally out of favour in this period he would eventually found himself an unassailable reputation on the shoals off Cadiz. Emma could hope to win no such public glory and it is possible that the compromising correspondence of this period along with Nelson's neglect of his wife in favour of Emma, and the latter's previous entanglement of Nelson in the sticky web of the Mediterranean could explain the Establishment's treatment of Emma after the deaths of both her lover and her husband.
Nelson, doting on his daughter from a distance, attempted to set up home by buying a farm near what is now Charing Cross. Here and in Piccadily, Emma was to hold what court she could manage after accepting that she no longer moved in royal and decision-making circles. The Admiral's money was now keeping the trio solvent as Emma sold off what valuables they had managed to salvage from Naples. From correspondence, it appears that Nelson, had to apply some pressure to make Emma keep personal possession of Horatia. He made what he could of a home life during the one-year respite given by the Peace of Amiens. Emma gave birth to a second child to Nelson but the child died soon after birth.
The death of Sir William left Emma relatively poor --Greville, as had long been planned, being the prime beneficiary. Friends of Emma began the battle to obtain a pension for her (it was not automatic) on the grounds that she had played an important diplomatic role while in Naples. Meanwhile, she was becoming dependent on Nelson, who appears despite his growing preoccupation with the threat of invasion from across the Channel, to have continued in his insistence that Horatia live with Emma and not under the care of one Mrs Gibson.
On 20 August
1805, Nelson was able to obtain leave to return to his
farm, Merton. He expressed the hope that he could
spend some months there. Lord Minton gives us a
description of a contented "family man" sitting at the
head of a table of relatives, his reputation restored,
and seemingly caring little for those who condemned
his relationship with Emma. But the call of Bonaparte
and his Grande Armée amassing at Boulogne, awaiting a
momentary lapse by the watchful Channel fleet, whisked
him away after only 24 days at Merton. Emma wrote: "I
am broken hearted...But what can I do? His powerful
arm is of so much consequence to his Country!"
It was to be Nelson's last leave. He was given command of the fleet under the flagship Victory which sailed to meet the combined Franco-Spanish fleets off Cadiz. Nelson's death from a marksman's bullet during the decisive victory won by the English fleet on the Trafalgar shoals was a blow both to his men and his country. Flag Captain Hardy, upon descending into the Admiral's quarters after the battle, found an unsealed letter to Emma on the desk, stressing his love for her and their daughter. The discreet officer ensured that the letter was delivered to the distraught woman ,who had taken to her bed in inconsolable grief. The loss of Nelson, despite his modified will, marked the beginning of Emma, Lady Hamilton's decline. She had not made public her maternal claims on Horatia, and although she now kept the girl with her constantly—perhaps so as not to lose her claim on the will— Nelson's codicil was ignored and his wealth went to his recognized relatives.
With the passing of the years, those who were in a position to support Emma's claims both to a pension and the will retired or were removed from public life, thereby weakening any hopes which she maintained.
She would outlive Nelson by ten years, but despite trying to keep up appearances she was continually dependent on financial support from friends and, anyway, was unable to give up completely the luxuries to which she had become accustomed. She was even forced to resort to allowing the publication of Nelson's correspondence to support her claims; more harm than good probably resulted from this act.
Bereft of property to sell, she was twice committed to debtor's prison, although she was allowed to live Within the Rules, which meant having to take up residence within a two-and-a-half mile radius of the prison. This was less stigmatizing than might be imagined, and even here Emma managed to entertain visitors, safe in the knowledge that other creditors could not make claims whilst she was technically in prison. On her second committal, all her possessions were sold off and in 1814 Emma and Horatia left England and creditors to take up residence in Calais with fifty borrowed pounds to see them through. Emma was by now suffering from what she termed 'jaundice' but which may have been a cirrhosised liver brought on by recourse to alcohol. Her only help in these later stages of illness came from the attendant Horatia, who, having been convinced that Emma was not her mother, nevertheless stood by her 'guardian' until she died on 15 January 1815. Horatia went on to live a full life—she had nine children—but refused all her life to recognize Emma as her natural mother.
vanished during rebuilding; even the street and house
where she died disappeared during twentieth century
bombardments of Calais. Only one paper gave her a full
obituary—Napoleon's escape from Elba was the news of the
day. It was a humble, sad end for a woman who once
charmed a lively court and courted England's greatest
Other articles on this site relevant to this period in Neapolitan history are: