LADY HAMILTON
In any consideration of the life and art of George Romney, however brief, it is impossible to leave out the name of Lady Hamilton, as she was so constantly painted by him.
It will be well, therefore, for a short section of this little book to be devoted to a story of the life of this fascinating person, who was fated to exercise so strong an influence upon the painter. It is hardly possible for the most imaginative romancer to tell a story more chequered in its events, more thrilling in its emotions, and more sad in its end.
Emma Lyon was the daughter of a smith in Cheshire, a humble man, who died in 1761, after a very short married life, and left his widow and infant daughter wholly without support.
The widow moved at once from Neston, where her husband had died, to Hawarden, her native place, and here by the aid of her relatives, almost equally poor with herself, she managed to bring up her child and send her to a dame's school in the village.
When about twelve Emma went as nursery-maid to the family of a Mr. Thomas, a doctor of Hawarden, whose son afterwards became an eminent surgeon.
At sixteen she left and came to London, and became housemaid to a tradesman in St. James's Street; and then later on, probably in 1778, became nursemaid in the family of another doctor, one Dr. Budd, a physician in St. Bartholomew's Hospital.
From here she migrated out to the west end, taking a place as lady's-maid in the house of a lady of fashion whose dwelling was a favourite resort of the gayest persons of the day, and where she had ample opportunity of reading as many books as she desired, of dressing in a style which made her more attractive, and of receiving a great deal of praise for her beauty and the quality of her voice.
The first slip which she made in her career was occasioned by her going to plead with Admiral Payne for the release of a cousin who had been forcibly pressed into the navy, and whose family were, without his assistance, unprovided for. Emma undertook this mission out of good nature and gained her petition; but in return the admiral, who was much struck by the beauty of her face, became her suitor, and she entered his house as his mistress. This life lasted for a very short time, as a wealthy baronet, Sir Harry Featherston, who visited Admiral Payne, begged her to leave him and come to Up Park as its mistress.
The admiral, who was shortly going on board his ship, consented to part with the fair Emma, who was much attached to her latest lover, and she went off with Sir Harry to Up Park, where she resided in the midst of every luxury for some months. Here she learned to ride on horseback, and succeeded in attaining to great proficiency in this accomplishment.
The affection, however, shown her by Sir Harry Featherston, lasted but a short time, and soon he began to weary of his toy. He brought his mistress to London, but was ashamed to let her be seen with him in public, and so gradually neglected her; and at the end of 1781 they separated, as Emma was not one to put up tamely with neglect, and was ambitious of yet greater conquests. They always remained friends, and corresponded to the end of their days; but another field of opportunity was now opening, and Emma was ready to avail herself of it.
The notorious and unscrupulous quack Dr. Graham was at that time in the height of his fame, and he had opened in 1779 his so-called Temple of Health in the Adelphi.
He was on the point of removing to more important premises when Emma Lyon left Up Park, and when, therefore, the Temple of Hymen, as the new imposture was named, was opened at Schomberg House, Pall Mall, in the residence afterwards occupied by Richard Cosway, R.A., and by Gainsborough, it was Emma Lyon who, as Hebe and the model of perfect beauty, health and happiness, was one of the greatest attractions of the place.
This wonderful woman, who was so lovely in face and form, and was withal so graceful in attitude, exhibited herself at the command of the quack in the most becoming of costumes of light drapery, posing as a goddess and attracting numerous admirers. Her beauty drew to the exhibition many of the noted painters and sculptors of the day, who were anxious to perpetuate the features and form of the fair Emma, and to draw her in the attitudes and characters which she so cleverly assumed.
She had no compunctions as to what character she assumed, whether it was Venus or a Bacchante, provided that she was admired and received the praise which was the very breath of her existence.
It was, however, only for a short time that she remained with Dr. Graham, as Mr. Charles Greville, the second son of the Earl of Warwick, to whom all her past history was unknown, and who fondly imagined that she was, as she represented herself to be, a paragon of virtue, fell deeply in love with her, and after a while gained her affection in return.
Greville was a man of the most cultivated taste, and he set about the education of the fair Emma with great zeal, training her in music, in dancing, in the love of the fine arts, and in the duties and accomplishments that befitted her new position.
He found out, after a short time, that she loved to be admired, and was ready to do anything that would obtain for her that gratification; but so successful was she in retaining her conquest of the man who appears to have honestly loved her, that for many years they lived together with considerable apparent affection on both sides.
When with Greville she sent for her mother, who from that moment and for some twenty years remained with her, assuming first the name of Cadogan, and then later on that of Hart, and she conducted herself with so much propriety that when Greville died he left her an annuity of £100 per annum.
Emma was now known as Mistress Hart, and it was under that name that Greville first introduced her to Romney in 1782, when he was himself sitting to the artist for his portrait.
During all the time when she first sat to Romney she was living with Greville and was attached to him, and there is absolutely no evidence whatever that the relationship between her and the artist was any other than that of a beautiful and accomplished woman sitting to a clever artist in numerous delightful scenes and characters.
Few works in which she is represented are more beautiful than the Circe, in which her fair girlish form is seen advancing toward the spectator full of the knowledge of that power of fascination that she had in so supreme a degree.
In 1784 another set of circumstances came into play. Greville had been extravagant in his method of living, and his affairs were somewhat embarrassed. He had seen a lady of quality with ample means whom he had thoughts of marrying; and at this moment his uncle, Sir William Hamilton, who was Ambassador to the King of Naples, arrived in London upon a long leave of absence.
Sir William was fascinated by the mistress of his nephew, and a curious agreement seems to have been entered into between the two men. Greville gave up his mistress to his uncle on the understanding that he took her to Naples, provided securities for the payments of Greville's debts, and made such arrangements as to his property as constituted Greville his heir.
Sir William was, on his part, to provide properly for Emma, who, with her mother, was to follow him to Naples under the excuse that she might there complete her training in music and singing under his care, and return to Greville when his means allowed him to provide for her.
She appears to have left England in complete ignorance that she had been transferred to Sir William Hamilton, and, from her pathetic letters to her old lover, to have been most anxious to leave Naples and return to him.
This was, however, impossible, and Greville, who was, it is clear, attached in some measure to her, and somewhat ashamed of his part in the bargain, had to make it clear to her that their connection was at an end, and that she had better yield to the persuasions of his uncle. Eventually she did so, but later on, in 1791, prevailed upon him to marry her, and they were married at Naples.
He then brought her back to London, as it was needful that she should be married according to the rites of the Church of England and presented at Court in order that she should take the position that was now rightfully hers as the wife of an English ambassador; and accordingly they were again married, and this time in Marylebone Church, on September 6th, 1791.
Then again she sat to Romney as Joan of Arc, as Cassandra and as The Seamstress, before she returned to Naples as Lady Hamilton.
Into the long history of her life in Naples there is no need to enter in these pages, nor to relate the story of the attachment which, as the wife of Sir William Hamilton, she formed for Nelson. She exercised great influence and power at Naples during the war, and was of the greatest assistance to Nelson, who for her sake deserted and cast off his wife, and entered into a close connection with Lady Hamilton, who was, it is clear, the mother of his child Horatia.
After the recall of the ambassador when the conduct of his wife had become notorious, Nelson took up his residence in the same house as that occupied by the Hamiltons; and when Sir William died in 1802 she went to reside with Nelson at Merton with the distinct understanding that so soon as Lady Nelson was dead he would make her his wife.
Nelson, however, died before his wife, and by his will left to Lady Hamilton certain property; but her extravagant manner of living soon exhausted her means, and as the nation did nothing of importance for her, an execution was put in and Merton and all its contents were sold. She then retired to a smaller house, and later on to lodgings, but was arrested for debt; and when she was able to do so she left the country and went to Calais, where, in 1814, she settled down, first in a farmhouse and then in apartments.
Her means were by this time greatly reduced, as she had only the interest of the money settled upon her daughter and the wreck of her own estate; but, as her daughter stated in later years, although "certainly under very distressing circumstances, she never experienced actual want." Her loveliness had left her, the beauty of her form had given place to corpulence, and it was in distress of mind and body that she died, attended only by her faithful daughter and by a rough hired servant, in her lonely apartments in the Rue Française, Calais, on January 15th, 1815.
She had some years before become a Catholic, and was at the very last attended by a priest and was buried with full Catholic rites outside Calais in the cemetery; but the land has for many years ceased to be used as a burying-place, and all trace of her grave has been lost. Her daughter survived her, and as the wife of the Rev. P. Ward died in March, 1881, at the age of eighty-one years.