The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1849-09-04 00:00:00

THE SUMMIT AND THE ABYSS.

In June, 1798, Nelson, as all acquainted with the his-
tory of those times will vividly remember, was in search
of the French fleet. How he discovered it at Alexandria
towards the end of July, and what havoc in the course of
12 hours he played with it on the Ist of August, no En-
glishman is ever likely to forget. But there are incidents
connected with this wonderful pursuit and this noble
victory with which our readers are perhaps not so familiar.
They belong rather to the history of Lady Hamilton than
to that of Nelson, yet how potently do they effect the
character and fate of both !
Sir William and Lady Hamilton were aroused from
their slumbers one morning in the aforesaid June by the
arrival of Captain Troubridge, with letters from Sir
Horatio Nelson, " requ7sting that the ambassador would
procure him admission to enter with his fleet into Naples,
or any of the Sicilian ports, to provision, water, &c., as
otherwise he must run for Graraltar, being in urgent want,
and that consequently he would be obliged to give over
all further pursuit of the French fleet, which he had
missed at Egypt, on account of their having put into
Malta." It was-much easier for Sir Horatio to make
the request than for the Ambassador to comply with if.
At that very time Naples was at peace with France, a
French Ambassador was resident in the Neapolitan capital,
and Ferdinand had stipulated with France that no more
than two English ships of war should enter into any of
the Neapolitan or Sicilian ports. What was to be done ?
Sir William Hamilton did the best be could. He jumped
out of bed, hastened to Sir John Acton, Ferdinand's
Prime Minister, who convened a Council immediately, at
which the King himself was present. The Council sat
down to consider Sir Horatio's demand at half-past six
o'clock, and took one hour and a half exactly to come to
a determination, for they did not rise until 8. Captain
Troubridge accompanied Sir William Hamilton to his
residence after the Council had broken up, but Lady
Hamilton had already gathered from the countenances of
the King and Sir John Acton the dismal confession that
Naples could not break with France, that the fleet of
Nelson could receive no help. We are reaching a point
in the narrative at which the craft of the penman fails
him, and the superiority of the painter becomes strikingly
manifest. Imagine the vexation of the disappointed
Ambassador, picture to yourself the bitter regret and
downcast looks of the faithful Troubridge, and then
behold, close to them both, a form lovely as an angel's, a
face beaming with the animation of triumph, and the
ecstacy of an irrepressible delight,—observe her hand
trembling with the anxiousness of the precious treasure
it grasps, and then seeher waiving high up exultingly in the
air the order which the Council bad refused, and the ambas-
sador himself could not obtain. Dr. Budd's nurserymaid
had positively in her possession the permission for which
Nelson had petitioned in vain, and which it was impossi-
ble satisfactorily to carry on the war. Oh, how the sor-
ceress must have chuckled when she saw King. Ministers,
and Councillors, all issuing from their solemn consulta-
tion with their lugubrious visages, indicating helplessness,
inability, and unutterable disgust !
We have had occasion to observe that the King of
Naples was a fool, and his Queen very much the reverse.
This was unfortunate enough for his Majesty; but, what
was worse still, his loving people were cognizant of the
fact. The King certainly commanded in his dominions;
but his wife was obeyed. Who knew this better than
Lady Hamilton ? That very clever lady suffered Sir
William to wake up Sir John Acton to get the King out
of his bed to cause the Council to be summoned, and
when all was done, and the wise men were fully engaged
in discussion, she herself quietly slipped into the Queen's
bedchamber, and got up a little council of her own. The
reader bears in mind the consummate ability of this
actress. He has been told that Siddons could not be
more tragic, O'Neil not more pathetic. Domestic
drama in the apartment of Majesty gave place to classic
tragedy. Not a moment was to be lost, Lady Hamilton
came at once to the catastrophe. In the most passionate
manner she threw herself upon her knees, and told
the Queen that the fate of the Two Sicilies now de-
pended upon her resolution ; the Council was sitting ; let
them decide upon negative or half measures, and the
family of Ferdinand was doomed. The great French
force must be followed ; it could not be pursued unless
the English fleet found refreshment in the Sicilian ports ;
and if allowed to go free the peril, not to England, but to
Naples, could not be overrated. The terrified Queen
became alive to the danger of the situation, but she had
faith in the King then sitting in Council, and was sure
he would provide for the emergency. He might, replied
the petitioner, or he might not and, if not, who could
reflect with patience upon the fate that threatened Naples
and the royal family ? Her Majesty, with a stroke of the
pen, could be her own deliverer. Why hesitate ? Her
sign-manual was respected throughout the king's domini-
ons ; a line, and her country, her husband, and his
crown, were rescued from destruction. No doubt the
word was suited to the action, and the action bathe word ;
pen, ink, and paper were in the room, Lady Hamilton
dictated, and the Queen with her own right hand directed
" All governors of the Two Sicilies to receive with hos-
pitality the British fleet to water, victual, and aid them."
Lady Hamilton enclosed that order to Nelson, and bade
him commit the Queen no further than the glory end
service of England required. Nelson amswered that if he
gained a battle it should be called her's and the Queen's,
for to them alone would his country be indebted for the
victory. He did gain a battle, and it was that of the
memorable Nile ; had his fleet not been fkirnished with
the necessaries of life at Syracuse, the battle would not
have been fought. It was for the country to remember
that fact. Against the faults of Lady Hamilton moralists
cannot too strongly inveigh ; society for its own protec-
tion cannot too emphatically protest : but had Lady Ham-
ilton been the most degraded of her kind, England was
bound not to forget this great and unparalleled service.
How she did forget it we shall presently blush to.read.
* * * * * * * * * *

Not far from the Merton turnpike, and within a few
miles of London, there is to be seen a field upon• which
once stood the home of Nelson and his mistress. It was
left, with its debts and liabilities, to Lady Hamilton..
These were large enough, for extravagance accompanied
the meridian of her life as it had characterized the dawn.
The Government proving obdurate to the last, the owner
of Merton was dismissed from the place. She went to
Richmond, and then took temporary lodgings in Bond-
street. Hence she was chased by importunate creditors;
and for a time hid herself from the world. In 1811 we
find her imprisoned in the Mng's Bench, but charitably
liberated therefrom by. a city alderman. Threatened
again with arrest by a coachmaker, in sickness of heart
the unhappy woman escaped to Calais. Here the English
interpreter gave the refugee a small and wretchedly
furnished house. What follows completes the romance
of Lady Hamilton's life.. There is sublimity in the
moral.

An English lady in Calais was*in the habit of ordering
meat daily for a favourite dog. She was met on one oesa--
sion at the butcher% shop by the English interpreter..
" Ah, madame, madame,"said M. De Rheims, " I know
you to be good to the English. There is a lady here that
would be glad of the worst bit of meat you provide for
your dog., ' M. De Rheims received permission to sup—
ply the poor woman with whatever she needed, but he
dared not reveal the sufferer's name, for he had promised
secrecy, and she was-too proud to.see visitors. Through
the charitable kindness of the English ltdy (let her name
be recorded for the credit of her- countrywomen ; she
resided in Brighton, and her name was Hunter), wine and
food were supplied to the pauper until she became too ill
either to eat or drink. M. De Rheims intreated the poor
wretch again and again to see the lady who had been so
good to her Finally, she said she would, if the lady
were, not a woman.of till& Mrs. Hunter came—the
poor patient thanked and blessed her—and so La/ly.
Hamilton died ; " beautiful," says her humane visitor,.
" even in death."' _ . _

-.....
Is the lesson told? Not yet. Mrs. Hunter desired
to bury the remains according to English custom. She
was laughed at for her importunities upon the subject,
and Emma Hamilton was placed in a deal box without
inscription, her pall being a black silk petticoat stitched
on a white curtain. No English Protestant clergyman
could be found,in Calais,. but an Irish half-pay officer was
sent for, and he read• the burial service. The ground in
which the body lies interred is now a timber yard;; it
ceased to be a public cemetery in 1816, and Lady Hamil-
ton had found her resting place in the January of the
preceding yoar.

SONTAG AND:MAI,P.BRAN.—MdiIe. Sontag returned to
Paris in December, 1827. The Italian Opera was then
fallen under the rule of M. Laurent. There she found
Malibran in the plenitude of her fame and glory. The
theatrical gossips and the Parisian gobemouche3. either
hoped or expected—all of them predicted—that a war was
about to arise betwixt the two stars now forced to move
in the same orbit—a war which would eclipse the encoun-
ters of Juno and Venus in the days of Paris and of the
siege of Troy. For once, the Greeks of Paris and the
Trojans of the Salle Favart were disappointed. It is little
to be doubted that the gentle and affectionate nature of
Mdlle. Sontag,. and the generosity which characterised at
all times the impetuous Malibran, would, under any cir-
cumstances, have united the two great vocalists—and of
this supposition the more than probability is established
lay the fact that all other caatatrici, of equal pretensions,
have never failed to be severed by jealousy the moment
they hale met on the same stage. But long before Mdlle.
Sontag's arrival in Paris the second time,.she had become
acquainted with Malibran. Those amongst our readers
who have lived in Paris when it was a centre of society,
instead of a centre of revolution, =mot fail to have
heard, at least, of the Countess Merlin. This Havanese
lady, a gifted practical iilletante, with Countess de Sparre
(Mdlle. Naldi) and her countryman Orfila (no less distin,
guished as a vocalist than as Dean of the Faculty of Me-
dicine of Paris, and the greatest of toxologists,) were wont
to give concerts which were thronged by all the Melomanes
of the French capital. Madame Merlin thus naturally
became the " arbiter elegantiarson" of Paris, at least as
far as regarded musical taste, and her house the rendezvous
of all who aspired to fame on the lyrical stage. Here
Mdlle. Sontag was frequently invited on her first arrival
in Paris. On one occasion the countess introduced to her
a fair Spaniard, a protegtrof hers, just arrived from New
York. This artiste, who had spent some years in perform-
ing in the inglorious theatres of the New World, was
afterwards the celebrated Malibran. Madame Merlin
begged Mdlle. Sontag to encourage her friend, who, she
assured her, had the greatest gifts of voice, by singing
with her the duet in Tancredi. Mdlle. Sontag cheerfully
consented. So astonished, delighted, and overcome were
the two fair vocalists at their respective talents, that at the
close of the duet they threw themselves into one another's
arms, and from that day began their friendship. Memoirs
of Sontag.
A blacksmith was lately summoned to the county court
as a witness in a dispute between two of his workmen.
The judge, after hearing the testimony, asked him why he
did not advise them to settle, as the costs had already
amounted to three times the disputed sum. He replied,
" I t0.t.0.1d the fo-f-o-ools to se-e-e-tile ; for I said the
clerk would take their coats, the lawyers their sh-ir-irts,
and if they got into your honour's court you'd sk•sk-in
'em !"