and Lady Hamilton reconciled him to his detention there.

Mr. Pettigrew is at some pains to show that that unfortunate passion which was destined to have so much influence upon Nelson's subsequent conduct, had no existence till this period. If so, it certainly gained rapidly in strength upon the excitement of success; or how can we explain the conduct of Captain Josiah Nisbett, his step-son, at the fete given by Sir William and Lady Hamilton, on the birth-day of Nelson, September 29, 1798, seven days after Nelson's arrival at Naples, and in which Captain Nisbet appears to have been goaded to such an extreme indignation, and to have conducted himself with so much violence, that Captain Troubridge and another officer were under the necessity of removing him from the room. It remained for Lady Hamilton to effect a reconciliation, under the plea of accidental inebriety.

It is unnecessary to dwell upon the charms both of person and intellect that belonged to this most fascinating woman. One portion of her very remarkable life had been devoted to exhibiting herself as perfect model of health and beauty. Romney, the Royal Academician, equally fascinated by the powers of her mind and the symmetry of her form, selected her as the subject of many of his most esteemed paintings.

No regular attempt, however, at the cultivation of Emma's powers was made till she was already somewhat advanced in life, when, under the tuition of proper instructors, she rapidly attained great perfection. Under the guidance of Sir William Hamilton—a man of taste and learning-and residing in a land so favored as Italy, she had many further opportunities of improving herself, and she not only maintained the most confidential intercourse with the Queen of Naples, but the friendship that existed between the queen and the minister's wife was of the most ardent character.

"Young and beautiful," says Mr. Pettigrew, "with a knowledge of the world derived under circumstances, and attended by consequences anything but agreeable to reflect upon, or calculated to excite satisfaction-versed in its most seductive fascinations, and intellectually gifted with taste for the fine arts, and with powers for the most effectual display of grace and beauty— enthusiastic in her devotion to noble and generous acts, and sensibly alive to the honor and glory of her country, it is not surprising that Nelson should have felt the power of her influence. Simple in his manners, and pure in his nature warm and generous in his feelings-unskilled in

who had been

The French ambassador having urged strongly upon the Neapolitan court their breach of faith in supplying the British fleet at Syracuse, contrary to treaty, Lady Hamilton availed herself at this juncture, whilst the court was flushed with joy at the victory of the Nile, to exercise her influence still further on the queen, and to urge upon her the rash scheme of breaking altogether with the French. The queen, obliged to cede to the necessity of receiving an envoy from that nation which was tinged with the blood of her sister, her brother-inlaw, and her nephew, tailed not to enter, in the most lively manner, into these proposals, and communicated them to the king. Nelson himself must, however, take his share of blame (if it can be so called where all the blame attaches itself to the cowardice and incapability of the Neapolitans) in these untoward transactions; for it appears that there was much hesitation on the occasion, as, on the 14th of November, Nelson writes to Earl Spencer that he had been present at the the deliberations with the king, General Mack, and Sir John Acton, and that a disposition appeared to exist, in consequence of want of assurance of support from the Emperor of Austria, to wait until the French had made further aggressions. Nelson boldly told the king, "either to advance, trusting to God for his blessing on a just cause, to die with l'épée à la main, or remain quiet and be kicked out of your kingdoms."

An army of 35,000 men was raised and marched from St. Germains under the command of General Mack, the king himself accompanying it. Nelson always entertained an unfavorable opinion of this General Mack. "General Mack," he says, 66 cannot move without five carriages. I have formed an opinion. I heartily pray I may be mistaken."-Letter to Earl Spencer. At a Neapolitan review, the general manoeuvred his troops so cleverly, that in directing the operations of a feigned fight, his own troops became surrounded by those of the enemy. Nelson, who observed this, immediately exclaimed, "This fellow does not understand his business."

Nelson effected an important diversion by sea at the same time that General Mack advanced to the encounter by land. He sailed on the 22d of November, with a small

In connection with the Neapolitan general, Nelson summoned the town of Leghorn, and it surrendered. Possession of it was immediately taken, and also of the fortress.

Nelson left Leghorn on the 30th, and returned to Naples on the 5th of December. It is almost needless to add, that once the gallant admiral away, and the Neapolitans left to themselves, they were ignominiously defeated. The position of the country from that moment became critical. The news of the defeat of the royal army produced riotous proceedings at Naples, and some murders were the consequence. The royal family took alarm, and it became necessary to concert measures for their safety. Nelson's feelings at the time exhibited a curious jumble of indignation at the cowardly and treacherous conduct of the Neapolitans, of personal resolution and defiance, and yet of secret pleasure at being able to relieve and to protect those already so dear to him. On the 17th of December, he wrote to his Excellency, Spencer Smith, at Constantinople:

"I have had the charge of the Two Sicilies entrusted to me, and things are come to that pitch that I do not know that the whole royal family, with 3000 Neapolitan émigrés, will not be under the protection of the king's flag this night."

On the following day he wrote to Earl Spencer:

"There is an old saying, that when things are at the worst they must mend.' Now, the mind of man cannot fancy things worse than they are here; but, thank God, my health is better, my mind never firmer, and my heart in the right trim to comfort, relieve, and protect those who it is my duty to afford assistance to."

It is unquestionable, however, that the very person whom Nelson most longed to protect, was also the chief agent through whose instrumentality the measures devised for the safety of the royal family were carried into

"MY DEAR LORD,

"I have this moment received a letter from my adorable queen. She is arrived with the king. She has much to do to persuade him, but he approves of all our projects. She is worn out with fatigue. To-morrow I will send you her letter. God bless you! Yours, sincerely."

No signature, but in Lady Hamilton's handwriting.

In a letter addressed to the Earl St. Vincent, the original of which is in the Admiralty, Nelson gives several particulars relating to the escape of the royal family:

The embarkation of the royal family, &c., was safely effected, he says, chiefly by the correspondence carried on between the queen and Lady Hamilton-a correspondence which caused no suspicion, as letters had been daily passing between them for a considerable time. Neither Lord Nelson nor Sir William Hamilton appeared at court, as their movements were minutely watched by the Jacobins. By night Lady Hamilton received the jewels and property of the queen and royal family, in value, it is said, amounting to full £2,500,000 sterling. Southey says: "Lady Hamilton, like a heroine of romance, explored, with no little danger, a subterraneous passage leading from the palace to the sea-side: through this passage the royal treasures, the choicest pieces of painting and sculpture, and other property to the amount of two millions and a half, were conveyed to the shore, and stowed safely on board the English ships."

To effect, however, the safe departure of the royal family, together with the property which had thus been conveyed on board the ships, it is obvious, as before said, many sacrifices must have been necessarily made. The ambassador was obliged to abandon his house, together with all the valuables it contained, nor was he able to convey away a single article. The private property of Sir William and Lady Hamilton was voluntarily left to prevent discovery of the proceeding, and this, Lady Hamilton estimated at £9000 on her own account, and not less than £30,000 on that of Sir William. To show the caution and secrecy required in thus getting away, Lady Hamilton says:

"I had, on the night of our embarkation, to attend the party given by Kelim Effendi, who was

Lord Nelson made his connection with Lady Hamilton a subject of history, by naming her, and his child Horatio, in a codicil to his will on the day of his death, and leaving them as a testamentary bequest to his country; but Lady Hamilton was deprived of the advantages of this codicil in her favor, by Lord Nelson's brother holding it back until a public grant had been made solely in favor of his surviving legitimate relatives; and the unfortunate lady was equally unlucky in her public claims upon the country and government, yet which claims were of the most undeniable character, and most ungratefully neglected. This once beautiful and intellectual woman, who had been the charm of every one she came in contact with, ultimately died at Calais, on the 15th of January, 1815, in great distress, and without a friend to soothe the anguish of her last moments. Mr. Pettigrew gives the following sad account of her decease, as related to him by Mrs. Hunter, of Brighton:

This excellent lady tells me, that at the time Lady Hamilton was at Calais, she was also there superintending the education of her son at the academy of Mr. Mills. She resided in the "Grande Place," and became acquainted with Monsieur de Rheims, the English interpreter, who persuaded Mrs. Hunter to take up her residence with him in his château, which was visited by many English. When Lady Hamilton fled to Calais, Monsieur de Rheims gave to her one of his small houses to live in. It was very badly furnished. Mrs. Hunter was in the habit of or

dering meat daily at a butcher's for a favorite little dog, and on one of these occasions was met by Monsieur de Rheims, who followed her, exclaiming, "Ah! Madame, ah! Madame! I know you to be good to the English; there is a lady here would be glad of the worst bit of meat you provide for your dog." When questioned as to who the lady was, and promising that she should not want for anything, he declined telling, saying that she was too proud to see any one; besides, he had promised her secrecy. Mrs. Hunter begged him to provide her with everything she required, wine, &c., as if coming from himself, and she would pay for it. This he did for some time, until she became very ill, when he pressed her to see the lady that had been so kind to her; and upon hearing that her benefactress was not a person of title, she consented, saw her, thanked her, and blessed her. A few days after she ceased to live. This lady, describes her to me as exceedingly beautiful even in death. She was anxious to have her interred according to English custom, for which, however, she was only laughed at, and poor Emma was put into a deal box without any inscription. All that this good lady states she was permitted to do was, to make a kind of pall out of her black silk petticoat, stitched on a white curtain. Not an English Protestant clergyman was to be found in all Calais, or its vicinity; and so distressed was this lady to find some one to read the burial service over her remains, that she went to an Irish half-pay officer in the Rue du Havre, whose wife was a well-informed Irish lady. He was absent at the time, but, being sent for, most kindly went and read the service over the body. Lady Hamilton, according to the register of deaths preserved in the Town Hall, died in a house situate in the Rue Française, and was buried in a piece of ground in a spot just outside the town, formerly called the Gardens of the Duchess of Kingston, which had been consecrated, and was used as a public cemetery till 1816. This ground, which had neither wall nor fence to protect it, was some years since converted into a timber-yard, and no traces of the graves now remain. Mrs. Hunter wished to have placed a head or footstone, but was refused. She, therefore, placed a piece of wood in the shape, as she describes it to me, of a battledore, handle downwards, on which was inscribed, "Emma Hamil ton, England's Friend." This was speedily removed another placed, and also removed; and the good lady was at length threatened to be shot by the sentinel if she persisted in those offices of charity. A small tombstone was, however, afterwards placed there and was existing in 1833. Upon it, according to a little "Guide to Calais," compiled by an Englishman, was inscribed:

VERY few books have been published in France since the late revolution. Newspapers and pamphlets, in which the questions of the day are angrily debated, have been the only intellectual food of our neighbors, and the republic of letters seems to have been completely awed into silence by the unexpected appearance of her stern political sister with the Phrygian cap and uncompromising level. Pamphlets, bought for a few pence, and read in as many minutes, are as much as the Republic of 1848 can afford; her citizens have neither time nor money for the more substantial productions of literature. Only four works of any importance have made their appearance within the last few months, though it must be allowed that these form complete exceptions to the remark we have just made. Chateaubriand's Memoirs, St. Beuve's continuation of the History of Port-Royal, Lamartine's Raphael, and the Duc de Noailles' Life of Madame de Maintenon, have no connection whatever with the feelings which at present agitate French society, and throw no light on the questions, upon the solution of which its very existence seems to depend. They must appear to France like vestiges of a by-gone literary world, relics of the days before the revolutionary flood, when men and books lived longer, and authors had time to be painstaking, and readers had leisure to be patient. Monsieur de Noailles' book, especially, is a literary anachronism. There is something anti-republican in the very appearance of the work. Its lordly and marvellously well-printed volumes are just such as one would expect to see figuring in a catalogue of " royal and noble authors," or issuing from the amateur press of a Walpole. Surely this panegyric of Louis XIV., of the sovereign whom Goethe designates as "the Man-Monarch," and who is styled by, Leibnitz, "the most kingly of all kings,' was not written since the last members of his family became exiles from Republican France; M. de Noailles did not take his pen VOL. XVII. NO. I.

7

off the page where he had been transcribing Bossuet's opinion on the divine right of kings, to write a vote for the Constituent Assembly; and his proof-sheets were not corrected with the roar of the cannon of June in his ears. No! these sober, wellwritten pages, full of patient research and careful analysis, were the offspring of more peaceful times, and were to have made their appearance under the monarchy; not, indeed, such a monarchy as M. de Noailles has taken delight in painting, but at any rate a régime under which his skillful, and at times eloquent, defense of Madame de Maintenon would have been appreciated. As it is, this picture of a society so firmly established presented to the view of France in the present day is curious enough. This description of the power of Louis XIV., venerated almost to adoration, forms a strange contrast with the precarious authorities of the scarce recognized Republic. The Duc de Noailles was, perhaps, the person of all others best fitted for the task he has undertaken. He was one of the most distinguished orators of the late Chamber of Peers, where he was ever a firm, though moderate, supporter of monarchical principles; descended from a niece of Madame de Maintenon, he has inherited the Château de Maintenon, and possesses, in the archives of his family, many valuable documents relative to his fair grand-aunt, of whom he is the chivalrous champion. His is a labor of love, ably and reverently accomplished, The following lines may serve as a specimen of his mode of treating the most delicate part of his subject:

"The virtue of a woman is never a seemly subject of discussion. Even those women who have been most calumniated, if properly alive to the conscious dignity of their sex, will, on so delicate though this latter should furnish proofs in their a subject, think silence preferable to controversy,

favor. Praise, even, is an offense. Madame de Maintenon herself would certainly have forbidden me to reply to the outrageous libels by which she has been attacked."