Lady Hamilton’s ambitious nature, and her appetite for political intrigue, when combined with some real ability and a good deal of reckless unscrupulousness as to the path by which the object in view might be reached, were dangerous qualities in such a Court as that of Naples. If, more than once, they contributed to the attainment of ends which were eagerly sought by the Government at home, and were of advantage to the movements of the British fleet, they cost—as is but too well known—an excessive price at last. The blame fairly attachable to Sir William Hamilton is that of suffering himself to be kept at a post for which the infirmities of age were rapidly unfitting him. But there he was to remain during yet four eventful years; quitting his embassy only when, to all appearance, he was at the door of death.
Between the September of 1793 and that of 1798 Nelson and Sir William Hamilton met more than once; but their chief communication was, of course, by letter. When, in October, 1796, after two victories in quick succession, Nelson lost his hard-won prizes, and narrowly escaped being taken into a Spanish port, it was to Hamilton that he wrote for a certificate of his conduct. And one of the ambassador’s latest diplomatic achievements was his procuring access for British ships to Neapolitan ports before the Battle of the Nile was won.
On the very night of that famous first of August, 1798, Sir William—whilst the distant battle was yet raging—told Nelson of the disappointment which had followed the rumours, current during many days at Naples, of a defeat given to the French fleet in the Bay of Alexandretta, and assured him of his own confidence that the rumours, though then unfounded, would come true at last. Five weeks afterwards, he had the satisfaction of sending to London the first official account of the great victory which he had seen before with the eye of faith.
At Naples the authentic news was received with a joy which worked like frenzy. When the ambassador first saw the Queen, after its arrival, she was rushing up and down the room of audience, and embracing every person who entered it—man, woman, or child. |Sir W. Hamilton to Nelson; Nicolas, vol. iii, p. 72.| He sent to Nelson an account of the universal joy. ‘You have now, indeed, made yourself immortal,’ was his own greeting. On the 22nd they again met, on board the Vanguard, in the Bay. On the 21st of the following December Sir William Hamilton accompanied the King and Court of Naples in their flight to Palermo.
The events of 1799 belong rather to history than to biography. Sir William Hamilton’s chief share in them lay in his exertions to obtain for Nelson the large powers which the King of Naples vested in the English Admiral—with results so mingled. On the 21st of June he embarked with Nelson on board the Foudroyant, and sailed with the squadron to Naples. In the stormy interview between Nelson and Cardinal Ruffo, Sir William acted as interpreter. In all that followed, he seems to have been rather a spectator than an actor. At the close of the year he joined with Nelson in the vain endeavour to induce the King to return to Naples, while that course was yet open to him.
Departure from Naples.
On the 10th of June, 1800, Sir William took his final leave of Naples, which had been his home for thirty-six years, and where he had mingled in a departed world. In company with the Queen and three princesses, the Hamiltons sailed in the Foudroyant for Leghorn, on their way to Vienna. A few days after the embarkation, a fellow-passenger writes thus: ‘Sir William Hamilton appears broken, distressed, and harassed. |Miss Knight to Lady Berry, July 2, 1800.| He says that he shall die by the way, and he looks so ill that I should not be surprised if he did.’ When the Admiral struck his flag (13th July) at Leghorn, the party set out for Vienna. Between Leghorn and Florence, Sir William’s carriage met with an overturn, which increased his malady. At Trieste the physicians were inclined to despair of his life. But he rallied sufficiently to reach England at last, and the change from turmoil to rest prolonged his life for two years to come.
Sir William Hamilton’s last days.
During the long interval between the acquisition of the first Hamilton Museum and the return of its Collector to his country, he had marked his interest in the national Collection by repeated and valuable gifts. To make yet one gift more—trivial, but possessing an historical interest—was one of his last acts. On the 12th of February, 1803, he sent to the British Museum a Commission given by the famous fisherman of Amalfi to one of his insurrectionary captains. On the 6th of April Sir William Hamilton died, in London. He was buried at Milford Haven.
The kindly heart had left many memorials of its quality at Naples. The ambassador had lost a part of his fortune. But many poor dependants, in his old home, enjoyed pensions from his liberality.