This Prince Regent Memorial contains several
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misstatements and exaggerations, of which the most glaring is that concerning the news of the King of Spain's intention to withdraw from the Coalition and join the French—events which occurred in two separate though succeeding years —being found in the single letter abstracted from Ferdinand's pocket. Emma's statement that she paid ^"400 out of her privy purse is also of doubtful accuracy, considering that her own yearly allowance was only ^200, and she always spent it up to the last penny. But because certain details are demonstrably mistaken, it is not fair to conclude the whole thing a fabrication —especially when dealing with a woman of Lady Hamilton's temperament. Both the Memorials were written many years after the event, and the confusion of two years is not an unnatural error. Her memory might well play her tricks with dates, though not so easily with facts and actual happenings, which have a firmer way of fixing themselves in the mind.
It is hardly necessary to go into minute discussion of this point The fact remains that a copy of the King of Spain's letter announcing his intention of entering into an offensive and defensive alliance with France—it could not have announced his withdrawal from the Coalition, for that was accomplished already—was obtained by the Queen of Naples and forwarded to England at her desire by Sir William Hamilton. Lady
Hamilton's share in the transaction is not vitally important. Whether or no she suggested taking the letter from the pocket of the unsuspecting King, as she proudly claims, is not a crucial matter. It may be a nice point of honour, but neither Emma nor Maria Carolina were given to sticking at trifles and the glory may fairly be divided between them.
It is sufficient for our purpose that Emma, at the time and years afterwards, believed quite honestly that she had rendered the British Government and Crown a considerable service in this matter, and Nelson believed so too. Writing at this time to Charles Greville, she informed him, with a half-childish exultation and much underlining—
"We have not time to write to you, as we have been 3 days and nights writing to send by this courrier letters of consequence for our government. They ought to be gratefull to Sir William and myself in particular, as my situation at this Court is very extraordinary, and what no person [h]as as yet arrived at; but one [h]as no thanks, and I am allmost sick of grandeur. We are tired to death with anxiety, and God knows were we shall soon be, and what will become of us, if things go on as they do now."
It is a quaint little sidelight on her truly feminine character that though " allmost sick of grandeur/' a few lines further on, in the same
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letter, she begs Greville to "send me by the bearer a Dunstable hat, and some ribbands, or what you think will be acceptable."
Identifying herself with the Queen of Naples and all her interests as she did, it was not surprising that Emma wrote, " God knows were we shall soon be, and what will become of us, if things go on as they do now." The weakness of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies was apparent, and France took advantage of it to exact a compact at the close of 1796, by which the kingdom was bound to the crippling condition of not admitting more than four vessels of the Allies at one time to any Neapolitan or Sicilian port. But if Naples was thus compelled into a distasteful neutrality, the Queen took care to ignore both the letter and the spirit of this neutrality wherever possible. Forced by her weakness to be secret, Maria Carolina lost no opportunity of in secret defying France.
In the prevailing gloom and distress Nelson's name and deeds shone out with the promise of a better time, when French ships should not exult unchecked in the Mediterranean, nor French armies trample Italy. Even before the Battle of St. Vincent Nelson's name was beginning to acquire a peculiar worth and significance. He wrote to his wife in 1796: "A person sent me a letter, and directed as follows: ' Horatio Nelson, Genoa.' On being asked how he could direct in
such a manner, his answer, in a large party, was, 'Sir, there is but one Horatio Nelson in the world/ I am known throughout Italy, not a Kingdom, or State, where my name will be forgotten/'
It is a pity the name of the "person" who wrote that magnificently simple address has not been preserved. He showed a remarkable fore, sight.
The Hamiltons kept in touch with Nelson from the time of his short visit to Naples, in 1793, till they met again after the Nile. Sir William wrote to him early in 1796: "Lady Hamilton and I admire your constancy, and hope the severe service you have undergone will be handsomely rewarded."
There is no record and no reason to suppose that Nelson personally had made any special impression on Lady Hamilton during their brief meeting. But after St. Valentine's Day of 1797, Nelson became a name to conjure with, and we may be sure that Emma used it often to cheer the desponding Queen—promising, with her usual extravagant ardour, all that Nelson and England should
