forwarded this letter to Nelson : " I also had one
from my mother, who doats on her, and says that she
could not live without her. What a blessing for her
parents to have such a child, so sweet ; altho' young, so amiable. . . . My dear girl writes every day in Miss
Connor's letter, and I am so pleased with her. My
heart is broke away from her, but I have now had her
so long at Merton, that my heart cannot bear to be
without her. You will be even fonder of her when you
return. She says, ' I love my dear, dear Godpapa, but
Mrs. Gibson told me he killed all the people, and I was
afraid.' Dearest angel she is! Oh! Nelson, how I
love her, but how do I idolise you, the dearest hus-
band of my heart, you are all in this world to your
Emma. May God send you victory, and home to your
Emma, Horatia, and paradise Merton, for when you
are there, it will be paradise. My own Nelson, may
God preserve you for the sake of your affectionate
Emma." *
1 Morrison MS. 844, 845, October 4 and 8 respectively. These two letters only escaped destruction because Nelson never lived to receive them. In the last Emma also says : " . . . She now reads very well, and is learning her notes, and French and Italian. The other day she said at table, ' Mrs. Cadoging, I wonder Julia [a servant] did not run out of the church when she went to be married, for I should, seeing my squinting husband come in, for . . . how ugly he is, and how he looks EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 425
It was not for that paradise that Nelson was re-
served.
There is no need to recount the glories of Trafalgar.
Let more competent pens than mine re-describe the
strategy of the only action in which Nelson ever ap-
peared without his sword. When he explained to the
officers " the Nelson touch" " it was like an electric shock. Some shed tears, all approved " ; " it was new, it was singular, it was simple." " And from Admirals downwards, it was repeated it must succeed if ever
they will allow us to get at them." Again he had been stinted in battleships.
Nelson ascended the poop to view both lines of those
great ships. He directed the removal of the fixtures
from his cabin, and when the turn came for Emma's
portrait, " Take care of my Guardian Angel," he exclaimed. In that cabin he spent his last minutes of re-
tirement in a prayer committed to his note-book.
" May the great God whom I worship, grant to my
country, and for the benefit of Europe in general, a
great and glorious victory ; and may no misconduct in
any one tarnish it, and may humanity after victory be
the predominant feature in the British fleet ! For my-
self individually, I commit my life to Him that made
me, and may His blessing alight on my endeavours for
serving my country faithfully. To Him I resign my-
self, and the just cause which is entrusted to me to de-
fend. Amen. Amen. Amen."
And then he entrusted to his diary that memorable
last codicil, witnessed by Blackwood and Hardy, re-
counting his Emma's unrewarded services, and com-
mending her and Horatia (whom he now desired to
cross-eyed ; why, as my lady says, " he looks two ways for Sunday." ' Now Julia's husband is the ugliest man you ever saw ; but how that little thing cou'd observe him ; but she is clever, is she not, Nelson ? "
426 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON
bear the name of " Nelson " only *) to the generosity of his King and country : " These are the only favours I ask of my King and Country at this moment when I
am going to fight their battle. May God bless my King
and Country and all those I hold dear. My relations
it is needless to mention; they will, of course, be amply provided for." On his desk lay open that fine letter to Emma, the simple march of whose cadences always
somehow suggests to one Turner's picture of the
femeraire :
" My dearest, beloved Emma, the dear friend of my
bosom, the signal has been made that the enemies' com-
bined fleet is coming out of port. May the God of
Battles crown my endeavours with success ; at all events I will take care that my name shall ever be most clear
to you and Horatia, both of whom I love as much as
my own life; and as my last writing before the battle
will be to you, so I hope in God that I shall live to
finish my letter after the battle. May Heaven bless
you prays your Nelson and Bronte. . . ." 2
As in a vision, one seems to behold that huge Santis-
sima Trinidad, that mighty Bucentaur, that fatal Re-
doubtable, the transmission of that imperishable
" Duty " signal ; the Victory nigh noon, hard by the enemy's van. One hears the awful broadside the
" warm work " which rends the buckle from Hardy's shoe Nelson's words of daring and comfort. One
heeds his acts of care for others and carelessness for
himself.
1 The King duly gave his licence to that effect. Morrison MS.
* October 19.. The original was prominent in 1905 at the British Museum with Emma's indorsement : " This letter was found open on His desk, and brought to Lady Hamilton by
Captain Hardy. ' Oh, miserable, wretched Emma ! Oh, glorious and happy Nelson ! ' '
EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 427
His four stars singled him out as a target for the
deathblow that " broke his back " fifteen minutes afterwards. He fell prone on the deck, where Hardy raised
him : " They have done for me at last, Hardy." And then, as he lies below, in face of death " Doctor, I told you so ; doctor, I am gone " ; the whisper follows, " I have to leave Lady Hamilton and my adopted daughter
Horatia as a legacy to my country." He feels " a gush of blood every minute within his breast." His
thoughts are still for his officers and crew. " How goes the day with us, Hardy? " His day is over. " I am a dead man . . . come nearer to me." Over his
filming eyes, assured of conquest, 1 hover but two pres-
ences, but one place. " Come nearer to me. Pray
let my dear Lady Hamilton have my hair, and all other
things belonging to me." And next, raising himself in pain, " Anchor, Hardy, anchor ! " Not Collingwood but Hardy shall give the command; " for, if I live, I.
anchor." " Take care of my poor Lady Hamilton, Hardy. Kiss me, Hardy." 2 " Now I am satisfied."
While his throat is parched and his mouth agasp for
air, his oppressed breathing falters once more to Scott :
" Remember that I leave Lady Hamilton and my
daughter [now there is no " adopted "] to my country."
Amid the deafening boom of guns, and all the chaos
and carnage of the cockpit, while the surgeon quits him
for five minutes only on his errands of mercy, alone,
dazed, cold, yet triumphant, with a spirit exulting in
self-sacrifice, and wavering ere its thinnest thread be
1 Scott's account (cf. App., Part II. F. (2)) brings a striking detail into prominence. " He died," he says, " as the battle finished, and his last effort to speak was made at the moment of joy for victory."
1 Hardy, in a letter to Scott of March 10, 1807, protesting his continued esteem for Lady Hamilton, declares that Nelson's last words to him were, " Do be kind to poor Lady H." Cf. Life of Rev. Dr. Scott (1842), p. 212.
428 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON
severed, around the distant dear ones, he dies. " Thank God," he " has done his duty " ! Can man do more, or love more, than to lay down his life for
his friends?
Bound up with Britain, the son who saved, ennobled,
and embodied her, rests immortal. Ministers, who
used him like a sucked orange, might disregard his
latest breath. With such as these he was never pop-
ular. But wherever unselfishness, and valour, and
genius dedicated to duty, are known and famed, there
will he be remembered. " The tomb of heroes is the
Universe."
Sad and slow plodded the procession of fatal vic-
tory over the waters homeward. Long before the
flagship that formed Nelson's hearse arrived, Scott, his chaplain, broke the news to Emma at Clarges Street
through Mrs. Cadogan : " Hasten the very moment
you receive this to dear Lady Hamilton, and prepare
her for the greatest of misfortunes. . . . The friends
of my beloved are for ever dear to me." Nine days
elapsed before she realised the worst. She was
stunned and paralysed by the blow. For many weeks
she lay prostrate in bed, from which she only arose
to be removed to Merton. Her nights were those of
sighs and memories ; her mother tended her, wrote for
her, managed the daily tasks that seemed so far away.
Quenched now for ever was
"The light that shines from loving eyes upon
Eyes that love back, till they can see no more."
And when at length she revived, her first thought was
to beseech the protection of the Government, not for
herself, but for the Boltons. If George Rose could
forward Nelson's wishes for them, it would be a drop
of comfort in her misery. She kept all Nelson's let-
ters " sacred," she called them " on her pillow."
EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 429
She fingered them over and over again. Her heart,
she told Rose, was broken. " Life to me now is not
worth having. I lived but for him. His glory I
gloried in; it was my pride that he should go forth;
and this fatal and last time he went, I persuaded him
to it. But I cannot go on. My heart and head are
gone. Only, believe me, what you write to me shall
ever be attended to." Letters purporting to be Nel-
son's regarding his last wishes had leaked out in the
newspapers. She was too weak to " war with vile
editors." " Could you know me, you would not think I had such bad policy as to publish anything at this
moment. My mind is not a common one, and having
lived as confidante and friend with such men as Sir
William Hamilton and dearest, glorious Nelson, I feel
superior to vain, tattling woman." She was desolate.
She had lost not only the husband of her heart and
the mainstay of her weakness, but herself the heroine
of a hero. She was " the same Emma " no longer, only a creature of the past. The receptive Muse had
now no source of inspiration left, nor any command-
ing part to prompt or act. Yet her old leaven was still
indomitable. She would fight and struggle for her-
self and her child so long as she had breath.
Messages of sympathy poured in from every quar-
ter, but she would not be comforted. Among others,
Hayley, writing with the new year, and before the
funeral, entreated her to make " affectionate justice to departed excellence a source of the purest delight."
He rejoiced in the idea that his verses had ever been " a source of good " to her, and the egotist enclosed some new ones of consolation. She told him she was most
unhappy. " No," she " must not be so," added the sententious " Hermit " ; " self-conquest is the summit of all heroism." While Rose and Louis importuned
her for mementoes and Emma parted with all they
430
asked the Abbe Campbell, writing amid the third
overthrow at Naples, was more delicate and sym-
pathetic. His " heart was full of anguish " and com-miseration. " I truly pity you from my soul, and only wish to be near you, to participate with you in the
agonies of your heart, and mix our tears together."
Goldsmid sent philosophic consolation, and tried to get
her an allotment in the new loan. Staunch Lady Betty
Foster and Lady Percival were also among her con-
solers, and so too was the humbler Mrs. Lind. The
Duke of Clarence Nelson's Duke inquired after her
particularly. And later Mrs. Bolton wrote : " For a moment I wished myself with you, and but a moment,
for I cannot think of Merton without a broken heart,
even now can scarcely see for tears. How I do feel
for you my own heart can tell; but I beg pardon for
mentioning the subject, nor would it have been, but
that I well know your thoughts are always so. My
dear Horatia, give my kindest love to her. The more
I think, the dearer she is to me."
At length the Victory arrived at Spithead. Hardy
travelled post-haste with his dearest friend's note-
books and last codicil to Rose at Cuffnells. Black-
wood assured Emma that he would deliver none of
them to any person until he had seen her; all her
wishes should be consulted. Scott wrote daily to her
all December, as he kept watch over the precious re-
mains of the man whom he worshipped. He took
lodgings at Greenwich, where they now reposed.
Rooted to the spot, throughout his solitary vigil he was ever inquiring after Emma, whom Tyson alone had
seen. From the Board Room of Greenwich Hospital
the body was deposited in the Painted Chamber. It
was the saddest Christmas that England had known
for centuries. The very beggars, Scott wrote to
Emma, leave their stands, neglect the passing crowd,
EMMA, LADY HAMILTON 431
and pay tribute to his memory by a look. " Many "
did he see, " tattered and on crutches, shaking their heads with plain signs of sorrow." The Earl had
been there with young Horace, who shed tears:
" Every thought and word I have is about your dear
Nelson. Here lies . Bayard, but Bayard victorious.
... So help me God, I think he was a true knight
and worthy the age of chivalry. One may say, lui
meme fait le siecle for where shall we see another? "
In all things she might command him; he only wished
for her approval. He could not tear himself away; he
was rowed in the same barge that bore the hero's
Orient-made coffin to the Admiralty. He watched by
it there, and thence attended it to St. Paul's. He bit-
terly resented being parted from it by his place, next
day, in the procession. " I honour your feelings," he exclaimed in the tumult of grief, " and I respect you, dear Lady Hamilton, for ever."
Who can forget the scenes of that dismal triumph of
January the loth? Not a shop open; not a window
untenanted by silent grief. The long array of rank
and dignity wends its funeral march with solemn pace.
But near the catafalque draped with emblems and
fronted with the Victory's figurehead, are ranged the
weather-beaten sailors who would have died to save
him.
Fashion and officialdom, as distasteful to Nelson liv-
ing as he was to them, press to figure in the pomp
which celebrated the man at whom they sometimes
jeered, and whom they
often thwarted and sought to
supersede. Professed and unfeigned sorrow meet in
his obsequies.
Every order of the State is represented. Yet as
the deep-toned anthem half -marred at first swells
through the hushed cathedral, two forms are missing
that of the woman whom certainly he would never
432 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON
have forsworn had her wifehood ever meant real af-
fection, and that of the other woman who beyond
measure had loved and lost him. Can one doubt but
that, when all was over, when form and ceremony
were dispersed, Emma stood there, silent, their child's
hand clasped in hers, and shed her bitter tears beside
his wreaths of laurel, into his half-closed grave?
CHAPTER XIV
THE IMPORTUNATE WIDOW IN LIQUIDATION
February, 1806 July, 1814
WHILE the nation was to vote 90,000 and
5000 a year for the earldom of the clergy-
man whose brother died only a Viscount and
Vice- Admiral, in receipt of an annual grant not ex-
ceeding 2000; while Lady Nelson, soon to wrangle
over the will, received that same annuity, not only were Emma's claims disregarded, but the payment of Nelson's bequest to her depended on a fluctuating rental.
She retired for a space to Richmond, and at once
begged Sir R. Barclay to be one of a committee fof
arranging her affairs and disposing of Merton. Not
apparently until next November did she address Earl
Nelson, urging him in the strongest terms, as his
brother's executor, to legalise Nelson's last codicil ; and nearly a year after he had received the pocket-book
containing it from Hardy, he returned her a civil and
friendly answer. Her finances were now more strait-
ened than has been supposed. Her income from all
sources (including Horatia's 200 a year) has been
estimated as over some 2000. This estimate counts
Hamilton's and Nelson's annuities, of 800 and 500
respectively, as if they were paid free of property-tax, her Piccadilly furniture as realised and invested intact at five per cent., together with Nelson's 2000 legacy,
and Merton as rentable at 500 a year. The tax
alone, however, seems to have been some ten per cent.,
433
434 EMMA, LADY HAMILTON
the furniture should surely be reckoned at half-price,
Merton was unlet, and with difficulty sold at last,
Full text of Memoirs of Emma, lady Hamilton, the friend of Lord Nelson and the court of Naples; Page 49