Memoirs of Emma, lady Hamilton, the friend of Lord Nelson and the court of Naples; by 1855-1933 Walter Sydney Sichel Page B
Authors: 1855-1933 Walter Sydney Sichel
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dancing, design, and history. Hamilton, himself musical, used later on to accompany her voice—of which he was a good judge—on the viola. She laughed at the foibles and follies of the court; she retailed to him the gossip of the hour. She entered into his routine and protected his interests; she prevented him from being pestered or plundered. Only a few years, and she was dictating etiquette even to an English nobleman.
It was a triumphal progress which took the town by storm; her beauty swept men off their feet. The transformations of these eighteen months, which lifted her out of her cramped nook at Paddington into a wide arena, read like a dream, or one of those Arabian fairy-tales where peasants turn princes in an hour. Nor is the least surprise, .among many, the thought that these dissolving views present themselves as adventures of admired virtue, and not as unsanctioned escapades. At Naples the worst of her past seemed buried, and she could be born again. Her accent, her vulgarisms mattered little; she spoke to new friends in a new language. The " lovely woman " who had " stooped to folly, and learned too late that men betray," seems rather to have " stooped to conquer " by the approved methods of the same Goldsmith's heroine.
The scene of her debut is that of Opera, all moonlight, flutter, music, and masquerade. Escaping in
*Cf. Morrison MS. 164,1787 (Emma to Sir William): "... My comforter in distress. Then why shall I not love you. Endead I must and ought whilst life is left in me or reason to think on you. . . . My heart and eyes fill. ... I owe everything to you, and shall ever with gratitude remember it. . . ." And cf. ibid, 172, 1788 ;"...! love Sir William, for he renounces all for me."
the cool of the evening from her chambers, thronged by artists, wax-modellers, and intaglio-cutters, she attends Sir William's evening saunter in the royal gardens at the fashionable hour. Her, complexion so much resembles apple-blossom, that beholders question it, although she neither paints nor powders. Dapper Prince Dietrichstein from Vienna (" Draydrixton" in her parlance as in Acton's) attends her as " cavaliere servente," whispering to her in broken English that she is a " diamond of the first water." Two more princes and " two or three nobles " follow at her heels. She wears a loose muslin gown, the sleeves tied in folds with blue ribbon and trimmed with lace, a blue sash and the big blue hat which Greville has sent her as peace-offering. Beyond them stand the king, the queen, the minister Acton, and a brilliant retinue. That queen, careworn but beautiful, who already " likes her much," has begged the Austrian beau to walk near her that she may get a glimpse of his fair companion, the English girl, who is a " modern antique." " But Greville," writes Emma, " the king [h]as eyes, he [h]as a heart, and I have made an impression on it. But I told the prince, Hamilton is my friend, and she belongs to his nephew, for all our friends know it." * Only last Sunday that " Roi d'Yvetot " had dined at Posilippo, mooring his boat by the casements of Hamilton's country casino for a nearer view. This garden-house is already named the " Villa Emma," and there for Emma a new " music-room " is building. Emma and the Ambassador had been entertaining a " diplomatick party." They issue forth beneath the moon to their private boat. At once the monarch places his " boat of musick " next to theirs. His band of " French Horns " strikes up a serenade for the queen of hearts. The king re-1 Morrison MS. 152, July 22, 1786.
moves his hat, sits with it on his knees, and " when going to land," bows and says, " it was a sin he could not speak English." She has him in her train every evening at San Carlo, villa, or promenade; she is the cynosure of each day, and the toast of every night.
Or, again, she entertains informally at Sorrento, all orange-blossom in February, after an afternoon of rambling donkey-rides near flaming Vesuvius, and visits
It was a triumphal progress which took the town by storm; her beauty swept men off their feet. The transformations of these eighteen months, which lifted her out of her cramped nook at Paddington into a wide arena, read like a dream, or one of those Arabian fairy-tales where peasants turn princes in an hour. Nor is the least surprise, .among many, the thought that these dissolving views present themselves as adventures of admired virtue, and not as unsanctioned escapades. At Naples the worst of her past seemed buried, and she could be born again. Her accent, her vulgarisms mattered little; she spoke to new friends in a new language. The " lovely woman " who had " stooped to folly, and learned too late that men betray," seems rather to have " stooped to conquer " by the approved methods of the same Goldsmith's heroine.
The scene of her debut is that of Opera, all moonlight, flutter, music, and masquerade. Escaping in
*Cf. Morrison MS. 164,1787 (Emma to Sir William): "... My comforter in distress. Then why shall I not love you. Endead I must and ought whilst life is left in me or reason to think on you. . . . My heart and eyes fill. ... I owe everything to you, and shall ever with gratitude remember it. . . ." And cf. ibid, 172, 1788 ;"...! love Sir William, for he renounces all for me."
the cool of the evening from her chambers, thronged by artists, wax-modellers, and intaglio-cutters, she attends Sir William's evening saunter in the royal gardens at the fashionable hour. Her, complexion so much resembles apple-blossom, that beholders question it, although she neither paints nor powders. Dapper Prince Dietrichstein from Vienna (" Draydrixton" in her parlance as in Acton's) attends her as " cavaliere servente," whispering to her in broken English that she is a " diamond of the first water." Two more princes and " two or three nobles " follow at her heels. She wears a loose muslin gown, the sleeves tied in folds with blue ribbon and trimmed with lace, a blue sash and the big blue hat which Greville has sent her as peace-offering. Beyond them stand the king, the queen, the minister Acton, and a brilliant retinue. That queen, careworn but beautiful, who already " likes her much," has begged the Austrian beau to walk near her that she may get a glimpse of his fair companion, the English girl, who is a " modern antique." " But Greville," writes Emma, " the king [h]as eyes, he [h]as a heart, and I have made an impression on it. But I told the prince, Hamilton is my friend, and she belongs to his nephew, for all our friends know it." * Only last Sunday that " Roi d'Yvetot " had dined at Posilippo, mooring his boat by the casements of Hamilton's country casino for a nearer view. This garden-house is already named the " Villa Emma," and there for Emma a new " music-room " is building. Emma and the Ambassador had been entertaining a " diplomatick party." They issue forth beneath the moon to their private boat. At once the monarch places his " boat of musick " next to theirs. His band of " French Horns " strikes up a serenade for the queen of hearts. The king re-1 Morrison MS. 152, July 22, 1786.
moves his hat, sits with it on his knees, and " when going to land," bows and says, " it was a sin he could not speak English." She has him in her train every evening at San Carlo, villa, or promenade; she is the cynosure of each day, and the toast of every night.
Or, again, she entertains informally at Sorrento, all orange-blossom in February, after an afternoon of rambling donkey-rides near flaming Vesuvius, and visits
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