The celebrated German poet Klopstock was also settled at Hamburg. We went to visit him, which seemed to give him great pleasure. While there, the door opened, and a grave-looking personage,[[89]] in canonicals, entered the room with a Bible in his hand. He walked up to Lord Nelson, and asked him to write his name on a blank page of the book. With this request Lord Nelson willingly complied, and the clergyman gave him his blessing and withdrew. Mrs. Cadogan and I supped one evening with Klopstock[[90]] and his wife, a pleasing-featured, fat, fair woman, much younger than himself, and a good musician. He read to me some passages of his “Messiah,” and his room was hung with drawings by Füger,[[91]] of subjects taken from that poem. At that time Klopstock was chiefly engaged in writing odes, very sublime, but too metaphysical to be easily understood.
The magistrates of Hamburg must have exercised great vigilance and good sense to keep their city in such good order, for it was filled with such strange characters that I could compare it to nothing but the banks of Lethe.
On the 31st of October we went on board the King George mail-packet, and, after a stormy passage, landed at Great Yarmouth on the 6th of November, having crossed the bar just in time to avoid a tremendous gale, which must at least have driven us out to sea again for several days. Lord Nelson was received with all due honours, which were rendered still more interesting to the good people of the town from his being a native of Norfolk. He was drawn in his carriage to the hotel[[92]] by the populace, and the Mayor and Corporation came to present him with the freedom of the city.
At his own request public service was performed in the church, to return thanks for his safe return to his native country, and for the many blessings which he had experienced. As he entered the church the organ struck up “See the Conquering Hero comes.”
When we arrived in town, Sir William and Lady Hamilton went with Lord Nelson to dine with his father and Lady Nelson, and I, with Mrs. Cadogan, to an hotel in Albemarle-street. In the evening Sir Thomas Troubridge called upon me. He was at the point of starting for Torbay, being appointed captain of the Channel fleet, under Lord St. Vincent. He advised me to go to my friend Mrs. Nepean, whose husband was Secretary to the Admiralty, and who, on the following day, made me take possession of a room in her house till her children came home for the holidays. Sir William and Lady Hamilton also left the hotel to occupy a house in Grosvenor-square, which had been lent to them by Mr. Beckford, whose wife, Lady Margaret, had been a relative of Sir William.
Nothing could exceed the kindness I received from Mr. and Mrs. Evan Nepean, in whose house I resided more than three weeks, and was afterwards a constant guest at their dinner-parties, where I had the advantage of meeting the most celebrated persons of the time. The two statesmen whom I found most agreeable in society were Mr. Windham and Lord Castlereagh. One day I heard Mr. Pitt give an account of what had passed in the House of Commons on the preceding evening, and was astonished at the oratorical energy and correctness of expression with which he rendered, and perhaps embellished, every speech, without having the slightest intention of doing more than relating what had actually passed.
Some of the official gentlemen appeared to me conceited and coldly satirical, as I have since observed to be the case with many amongst our men of letters. There is something in the southern Italians, and indeed in most of the men and women of that country, so natural and unaffected, that it is impossible not to remark the artificial manners of some great capitals. I observed that in morning visits, for example, it was not only the same style of dress, but that nearly the same topics of conversation, the same time of staying, and the same expressions would be used by almost every lady who made her appearance. It was in vain that I tried to feel at home in my own country; but what surprised me most of all was the general cry of poverty, distress, and embarrassment.[[93]] I had been accustomed to see foreign nations look up to England as the most flourishing and potent of countries, and to regard it as the laurel-crowned island, the safeguard of Europe. And now that I was arrived in this highly favoured land, I heard nothing but complaints of the impossibility of going on any longer, with wishes for peace, &c. &c. Then, the darkness and the shortness of the days seemed to me so strange. “How do you like London?” said I, one day, to my old Italian friend, Andrea Plaudi. “I dare say, madam,” he answered, “that I shall think it a very fine city when it comes to be daylight.” He had heard of northern countries where, in the middle of winter, there was no daylight for weeks together, and he fancied that was the case in London. I myself felt rather surprised at returning from a round of morning calls by lamplight, and at dining about the time when I had been used to see supper served up. The months of November and December are certainly not the most favourable season for a stranger to visit London, and a stranger I felt myself to be after having resided so long in other countries.
However, I must say that I was most kindly received by many who had known me in early youth, or whom I had met in Italy. It was there I had become acquainted with Lord Macartney, and now his amiable and excellent wife—a daughter of Lord Bute, George the Third’s first minister—came to see me, with Lady Aylesbury,[[94]] a most delightful person, from whom I afterwards received every mark of friendship and good will. Lady Macartney was also constantly obliging and good to me. The first party to which I went in London was a concert at her house, where I saw the Prince of Wales hand in Mrs. Fitzherbert[[95]] in the most respectful manner imaginable.
I dined one day with Sir William and Lady Hamilton in Grosvenor-square. Lord and Lady Nelson were of the party, and the Duke of Sussex and Lady Augusta Murray[[96]] came in the evening. Lord Nelson was to make his appearance at the theatre next day, but I declined to go with the party. I afterwards heard that Lady Nelson fainted in the box. Most of my friends were very urgent with me to drop the acquaintance, but, circumstanced as I had been, I feared the charge of ingratitude, though greatly embarrassed as to what to do, for things became very unpleasant. So much was said about the attachment of Lord Nelson to Lady Hamilton, that it made the matter still worse. He felt irritated, and took it up in an unfortunate manner by devoting himself more and more to her, for the purpose of what he called supporting her. Mischief was made on all sides, till at last, when he was appointed to the command of the squadron in the Downs, which was to sail for Copenhagen—his brother[[97]] and sister-in-law, with Sir William and Lady Hamilton, being with him at Deal—he wrote to Lady Nelson, giving her credit for perfectly moral conduct, but announcing his intention of not living with her any more. This was certainly not in his thoughts before he returned to England, for I remember his saying, while we were at Leghorn, that he hoped Lady Nelson and himself would be much with Sir William and Lady Hamilton, and that they would all very often dine together, and that when the latter couple went to their musical parties, he and Lady Nelson would go to bed. Even at Hamburg, just before we embarked, he purchased a magnificent lace trimming for a court dress for Lady Nelson, and a black lace cloak for another lady who, he said, had been very attentive to his wife during his absence.