LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 RIVERSIDE 
 
 ' 
 
 I
 
 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR
 
 KINGS AND QUEERS 
 OF AN HOUR: 
 
 RECORDS OF LOVE, ROMANCE, ODDITY, 
 AND ADVENTURE. 
 
 BY PERCY FITZGERALD, M.A., F.S.A., 
 
 AUTHOR OF " THE LIFE OF GEORGE THE FOURTH," " THE LIFE OF GABEICK," 
 " A NEW HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE," ETC. ETC. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 "The world's mine oyster." 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 TINSLEY BROTHERS, 8, CATHERINE STREET, STRAND, W.C. 
 
 1883.
 
 C~T77S 
 F5Z 
 
 V. / 
 
 CHAELES PICKIN8 AlfD STABS, 
 CBT8T1L PiLiCI PRESS.
 
 to 
 
 MY OLD AND VALUED PEIEND 
 AND SCHOOLFELLOW, 
 
 THE HONOURABLE GEORGE PLUNKET.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 I CANNOT but think that the following collection 
 of curious and romantic adventures will be found 
 interesting. They are all English, or concerned 
 with England ; and, in that view, are distinct from 
 the collection published by my friend Mr. Becker, 
 the heroes of which are mostly foreigners. 
 
 A great deal of what is here gathered is new, or 
 has never been set forth with so much detail and 
 hitherto unknown particulars. The truly romantic 
 history of Theodore of Corsica is of course familiar, 
 so far as its meagre outline is concerned ; but here 
 it is for the first time related at length, with 
 details drawn from hitherto unknown sources, con- 
 temporary Italian works, MSS., etc.; and I think 
 it may be fairly claimed that as a stirring and 
 picturesque piece of romance it is well worth 
 recording. So with Lady Hamilton, whose rise and 
 fall have often been recounted ; but so many 
 curious particulars have not been brought together
 
 viii PREFACE. 
 
 before. Accounts of Paul Jones and Brummel 
 are not very accessible ; though, of course, the few 
 leading incidents in their careers are well known. 
 The biography of Brummel is indeed marked " raris- 
 simus" in the catalogues. In the history of the 
 "adventurers" selected and the word is used in 
 its more favourable sense a certain piquancy will 
 be found. It will be seen that this country usually 
 accounted to be somewhat prosaic in character can 
 show forth a body of adventure and romance that 
 compares, for interest and excitement, with any that 
 belongs to foreign countries. 
 
 I may be pardoned for adding that the collection 
 of the incidents that follow has been the work of 
 many years, and has been a labour of love.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGK 
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA 1 
 
 LADY HAMILTON . 177 
 
 THE BEAUTIFUL GUNNINGS 271 
 
 THE ROMANTIC STORY OF SIR PHILIP FRANCIS 307 
 
 THE EARLY LOVES OF GIBBON AND PITT . 339 
 
 THE STORY OF L. E. L. 363
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA.
 
 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR 
 
 RECORDS OF LOVE AND ADVENTURE. 
 
 THE 
 
 STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 
 
 CIVILISATION, which is adding so abundantly to all 
 the comforts, and abating so many of the troubles, 
 of social life, perhaps indemnifies itself by levying 
 a heavy contribution from those whom it thus benefits. 
 They have to sacrifice the picturesque and the 
 dramatic. It is an old complaint now, that railways 
 and steamboats are fast abolishing all local colour, 
 and putting the world into regulation uniform, 
 suppressing the mantilla, the sombrero, the velvet 
 jackets and parti-coloured stockings, and enforcing 
 the Paris bonnet and the black English hat on 
 every head, from Dan to Beersheba, from London 
 to the Pole. This facility of " rapid communication " 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUK. 
 
 has indeed swept away the dramatic business and 
 "spoiled the trade," as it is said, of a very conspicuous 
 class of players THE ADVENTURERS. 
 
 The last century would seem to have been their 
 
 ^ala-time. We can conceive the inconvenience and 
 o 
 
 suffering which such a profession must have inflicted 
 on those whom it chose to select as its victims ; how 
 for them it could be anything but what was poetical 
 or romantic. To us, sitting afar off, and secure from 
 their operations, the whole falls into the shape of 
 innumerable dramas, on which settle clouds of 
 mystery, to this hour never broken. The playhouses 
 in which these scenes were enacted were the won- 
 derful little courts which were found all over Europe 
 those seats of electors, princes, bishops, margraves, 
 landgraves, grand-dukes, "free-barons," who have 
 long since been swept away. Europe was full of 
 intriguers, of strange men and stranger women; the 
 post-roads were covered with chaises carrying travellers 
 certain to be rich, as such only could travel ; with 
 soldiers of fortune and civilians of fortune. There 
 was great gambling going on ; money, station, fortune, 
 was to be won by the players who would play skilfully, 
 or even cheat skilfully. It was the splendid era for 
 men living on their wits; and the wretched little 
 courts, already tottering with the corning Eevolu- 
 tion, were beginning to rock and tremble ; while the 
 scheming, half-bankrupt electors and margraves were
 
 THE STOEY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 3 
 
 often glad to welcome wits, which they had not, and 
 arts and villany, at which they felt no scruple, save 
 that of failure. Was a man growing dangerous ? It 
 was contrived that he should disappear. Was a wife 
 in the way ? There was the dungeon and a speedy 
 and suspicious death. There were strange duels, 
 curious " missions " when the minister sent his " in- 
 strument" the clever unscrupulous fellow well 
 supplied with money and influential letters. It was 
 the day of " bonnes fortunes," when one of the arts of 
 rising in the world was through the favour of a lady. 
 If we take up Sir Nathaniel Wraxall's curious travels, 
 peep into his odd chiffbnnier baskets, which he has 
 filled in this and that court, when talking in corners 
 to old courtiers and chamberlains, what a glimpse it 
 gives of scenes and mysteries ! He rather indicates 
 than reveals. From little books like the Lettres 
 Galantes, we see what universal junketing and in- 
 triguing went on. Watering-places like " the Spaw " 
 seem to have been the holiday-ground where the 
 adventurers clustered ; and indeed the pastoral 
 "hells" of Baden and Homburg have a scenery and 
 atmosphere that give but a faint notion of what were 
 those old times of elegant rascalship. There was no 
 police, either in the shape of a great public opinion, 
 working by telegraph and railway, or even of the ordi- 
 nary watchman pattern. The adventurer who had been 
 -detected could get away from Venice, and begin the 
 
 B 2
 
 4 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 world again at the Hague. There he needed no 
 introduction if his name and story were known through 
 other adventurers ; and the mist of distance and time, 
 the long, long stretch of post-roads softened away the 
 villany and imparted mystery. The surprising thing 
 was that with the profession so crowded, there were 
 yet victims enough, and profit and spoil for all. The 
 secret lay in the seduction of their bold style of game, 
 and in the charm of dramatic colour, which attracted 
 even those who suspected. Liveliness, adroitness, 
 habilete in manner and speech, indomitable energy, 
 and versatility these made the adventurer's armoury ; 
 with these he opened whatever sort of oyster he had 
 chosen ; with these he made his way to the gambling- 
 rooms in public places and private houses, which 
 were irresistible attractions for persons of all classes, 
 as indeed they would be now were they tolerated, and 
 which were kept by real or soi-disant countesses in 
 their own drawing-rooms. In this rich soil the 
 adventurer grew up luxuriantly, and in a night, like 
 a fungus ; and hither the decent part of the com- 
 munity were often attracted. Even now, were the 
 decayed countesses allowed to hold tables for " E. 0." 
 and Baccarat at their houses, and furnish them round 
 with barons mock and real, and ladies whose character 
 was doubtful or beyond doubt, adventurers would 
 begin to swarm again. Headers of the old memoirs 
 and letters of the last century will recall that a
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 5 
 
 favourite and recurring character at every watering- 
 place or little capital was a mysterious " Baron " or 
 " Chevalier," who turned up at Tunbridge Wells, say, 
 who was received by every one, suspected, and yet 
 who was privileged to plunder. "When the great 
 English actor, Garrick, was on his travels, he wrote 
 home a little sketch which hints yet more than it 
 conveys ; how his two friends, Lord Ossory and 
 Mr. Beauclerk, had met at Venice the Marquis de 
 
 Prie and Don P , and had been stripped of ten 
 
 thousand pounds in a night. We turn over " The 
 Amusements of Spa," and find him there in sumptuous 
 state, with carriages, horses, and hotel, where there is 
 dancing and play, and junketing from night until 
 morning. Nor must it be supposed that these men 
 were of the vulgar " knight-of-industry " type that is 
 seen on the stage or in the novel a mere swindler of 
 our own time, whose aim is a few sovereigns. These 
 men played for power, influence, for fortunes, and 
 sometimes for a crown : they lived sumptuously, were 
 clothed magnificently, were seen at courts : and their 
 reputation was bounded, not by the place in which 
 they lived, but was spread over the world. The 
 glittering romances of Dumas his dashing musketeers, 
 who meet with such bright and stirring adventures 
 are scarcely overcoloured. As was said before, the 
 materials were to their hand, and the state of society 
 opened opportunities that were irresistible. The
 
 6 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 irresponsibility of the powerful, the corrupt and 
 effete control of the law over these electors, barons, 
 ministers, margraves, allowed them to carry out their 
 schemes by the most unscrupulous means : so that 
 others who would encounter them had to fall back 
 on agencies of the same sort. 
 
 This may have been the secret of the employment 
 of the adventurer, and here was his opportunity. 
 What dramas, therefore, do we not owe to him ! 
 what stories like that of the Diamond Necklace 
 and of Cagliostro ; of Bonneval, D'Eon, Ripperda, 
 Schrepfer, St. Germain with a hundred such adven- 
 turers and adventures ! With the agreeable and 
 garrulous Nathaniel at our elbow, we get odd phan- 
 tasmagorian glimpses, which, if not true, were at 
 least supposed to be true. We hear him whispering 
 with Lady Hamilton at Naples, as that heroine tells 
 him of the Sicilian lady of rank who had made away 
 with nearly a dozen persons by dagger or bowl, and 
 whom her own relations were obliged to denounce 
 and have some check imposed upon, by having her 
 imprisoned "in a convent of a severe order." Sir 
 Nathaniel, who was not unlike Boswell, visited this- 
 lady, and was offered chocolate by her. 
 
 Rome, too, "the Hotel de 1'Europe," was u 
 picturesque stage for the intriguer and adventurer. 
 Most curious was the story, told on the same autho- 
 rity, of the Irish doctor, who was roused up at night.
 
 at his house in the Piazza di Spagna, and carried 
 away blindfold to a distant house, where he was 
 forced by two masked gentlemen to bleed a lady to 
 death. He contrived to leave the marks of his 
 bloody fingers on the wall as he was led away, and 
 denounced the whole to the papal authorities. "A 
 guard of the Sbirri was appointed to accompany 
 Ogilvie, who began by visiting the villas scattered 
 without the walls of that metropolis. In the Villa 
 Papa Julio they found the bloody marks left on the 
 wall, at the same time that he recognised the apart- 
 ment in which he had put the lady to death." It 
 belonged to the Bracciano family; and it was the 
 brothers who had put their sister to death. How 
 strange, too, the story of the public executioner, 
 brought from Strasburg to execute a lady in private, 
 who was believed to be the Princess of Tour and 
 Taxis! "I have dined," adds the baronet coolly, 
 "with the prince at his castle." 
 
 But the most surprising picture of a schemer's 
 life graphic, picturesque, minute to a degree, and 
 in the main trustworthy is to be found in the story 
 of Casanova, as told by himself with such liveliness 
 and esprit. There we see the true vie intime, suc- 
 cessful cleverness honoured and employed now sent 
 to the " Tombs" or " Leads ;" now sent on " missions" 
 by the Abbe Dubois ; now introducing us to that 
 dreadful society of adventurers, counts and countesses,
 
 8 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 who swarmed over old Venice, old Genoa, old La 
 Haye, and old Paris the " rotten " society in velvet 
 coats and bag-wigs, and wearing swords ; to that 
 pseudo Prince Piccolomini and his wife, the Chevalier 
 This and That, with " Sir Walpole," representative of 
 the stray Englishman, who seemed to be drawn into 
 such company by a fascination, and was duly made a 
 victim ; who made up the society at the Prince of 
 Orange's, where the Sieur Casanova descended, and 
 who after a quarrel would rise from table and go 
 out to the wood, and settle the affair with the sword. 
 Everywhere a Bank of Pharaoh or a game of Bassette 
 the bank kept by a count and his charmante 
 cpouse was the favourite mode of recruiting an 
 exhausted purse. Rome, to which all roads then led, 
 was thought to be the adventurer's El Dorado ; it was 
 so crowded with travellers and intriguers. 
 
 " I knew," says that free-knight, " that Rome was 
 the unique city where a man starting with nothing 
 could arrive at everything. Such a man ought to be 
 a sort of chameleon, who can reflect all the colours 
 round him ; he should be supple, insinuating, im- 
 penetrable ; often low, pretending to know less than 
 he does know, having but one tone of voice, and 
 patient." This nice stroke shows a delicacy of 
 observation, and he besides owns that "complaisance" 
 was the only gift for which he was distinguished, and 
 that otherwise he was a mere untrained steed. But
 
 THE STOKY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 9 
 
 it would be impossible to give an idea of this gro- 
 tesque panorama, the scene of which shifts from one 
 town to another, the rich feasts and entertainments, 
 gorgeous dresses, sumptuous carriages, which we see 
 in the old prints of Piranesi, and others before him 
 his quarrels, missions, and adventures. 
 
 But with this light we shall understand more 
 clearly the life of a yet more remarkable adventurer, 
 whose story has all the colours and brilliancy of a 
 romance that of THEODORE OF NEUHOFF, who played 
 for a throne, won, and even kept it for some time. 
 In the hands of Alexander Dumas the elder, most 
 dramatic of story-tellers, it would have taken the 
 shape of an absorbing and even chivalrous romance. 
 Hitherto it has been only sketched. A few allusions 
 in Walpole, a few pages in the records of adventurers 
 and charlatans, make up all that is popularly known 
 about this attractive hero and his story. 
 
 To the writer of these chronicles it has ever had a 
 sort of fascination, which he cannot doubt will be 
 extended to the reader who follows the fortune of 
 the daring adventurer to the close ; for success of a 
 really substantial nature attended him, which itself 
 rarely attends the adventurers who, at most, snatch 
 only a brief and spurious enjoyment of what they 
 seek, their fall being generally disastrous. He was in 
 fact a real king, with robes, armies, coinage ; his 
 pieces are still eagerly sought by collectors ; he wore
 
 10 KIXGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 his crown, and the rest. It will be a task, there- 
 fore, of genuine interest to follow his exciting career, 
 the more particularly as it has never yet been 
 traced. 
 
 An adventurer's eyes might well have turned to 
 that romantic little island of Corsica, which glitters 
 afar off in the deep molten cobalt of the Mediterranean. 
 Its soil sparkled with the rarest and most precious of 
 marbles porphyry, serpentine, and alabaster and was 
 lavish in the more profitable blessings of olive-groves, 
 great chestnut- trees, corn and wine. The people were 
 a high-spirited and romantic race ; full of an in- 
 domitable spirit that has hardly been done justice 
 to, and who had maintained for a whole series of 
 years a well-organised revolt against a powerful but 
 fast-decaying republic. Genoa was little over a day's 
 sail away. It had its galleys and soldiers, its captains 
 trained in European wars ; it could boast its politics, 
 arts, wealth, and prestige ; while the Corsicans were 
 poor, rude, agrarian, and, as regards social training 
 and advantages, almost barbarous. Yet for many, 
 many years they carried on this war, rather than 
 insurrection, and with results which might be called 
 almost victorious, if we allow for the inferiority of 
 resources. Indeed, in considering this struggle, it is 
 impossible not to think of England and the Irish 
 during the old days of oppression and extermination ; 
 for even during the lulls of conflict, the policy of the
 
 TIIE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 11 
 
 Kepublic, when it attempted peaceful government, 
 seemed unconsciously to shape itself on the old 
 British principles. Thus in Corsica, as in Ireland, a 
 government party were encouraged, who were pitted 
 against the natives, and whose loyalty was stimulated 
 by favours from home ; an imperial system was 
 steadily maintained of " sending over " officials and 
 magistrates of all degrees, who became odious to the 
 people from their airs of superior caste, and who went 
 away enriched by spoliations and exactions. A more 
 curious parallel still was in the practice of appointing 
 Genoese to all the vacant Corsican bishoprics, which 
 was long the invariable part of the English system. 
 The Corsican gentry and leading men, if they repaired 
 to Genoa, were treated contemptuously, or snubbed ; 
 and returning, bitterly indignant at the humiliation, 
 were driven into the ranks of the disaffected. Some 
 such infatuation seems often to direct the behaviour 
 of a powerful country in its relations with a subject 
 race. In this way the struggle went on, and the 
 Corsicans were fairly exhausted, and remained passive 
 rather than submissive. The grinding tyranny of the 
 Genoese, stupid as it was oppressive, tended to render 
 their conquest valueless and unproductive. It seemed 
 to aim at destroying the whole social life and pros- 
 perity of the island. They levelled villages and towns, 
 and would not let the natives gather at the coasts. 
 The latter were not allowed to sell their produce to
 
 12 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUK. 
 
 any but the Genoese commissioners, who arbitrarily 
 fixed a very low price. All artizans gradually dis- 
 appeared, and in the whole island they could scarcely 
 find a single cooper to make casks for their oil and 
 wines. They were forbidden to fish or to use nets, 
 and were ordered to discontinue working profitable 
 mines that had been discovered. At one period an 
 arbitrary act forbade the making of salt on the island ; 
 now an enormous contribution was levied to reimburse 
 the government for some advances made during a 
 famine ; while the enclosure of a common was to have 
 the invariable result, and inflamed the popular mind 
 to the highest degree. Now^ some fresh act of op- 
 pression drove them into revolt. Now the Republic, 
 at their wits' end for resources, took the desperate 
 step of applying to the Emperor there was then only 
 one emperor par excellence for German troops to do 
 their work. Some battalions then about returning 
 home from Lombardy were graciously diverted to 
 Corsica ; and a body of some four thousand men, under 
 General Wachtendonck, appeared in the island. The 
 Germans, during the greater part of the century, had 
 thus furnished mercenaries to Europe ; and the in- 
 numerable electors, margraves, and dukelets hired out 
 small armies of their subjects, or rather sold them, to 
 needy powers, at a handsome figure per man or 
 regiment. This humiliating traffic scattered over 
 Europe the bones of innumerable Bavarians, AViirtem-
 
 THE STOEY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 13 
 
 bergers, and Hessians countries in which soldiers 
 were the staple export. 
 
 Yet these new auxiliaries did not do much for 
 their employers. They were often beaten, and had to 
 be reinforced by a fresh body under a well-known 
 general, Prince Louis of "Wurtemberff. Their heart 
 
 O * * ' 
 
 was not in the work, or they had the old prejudice 
 against fighting on such rude guerilla principles. 
 Wachtendonck was often seen in London drawing- 
 rooms a good-natured German, who had no ill-will 
 to "the brave Corsicans," and presently received 
 instructions from his Emperor to act rather as inter- 
 mediatory than as enemy, and strive to bring about 
 an accommodation. This was at last done with the 
 usual solemnities of meetings, deputies, hostages. 
 Yet, almost as the treaty was signed, the Republic, 
 with strange treachery, seized on the Corsican com- 
 missioners, and carried them away to a dungeon in 
 Genoa. This insane proceeding had nearly destroyed 
 all, when presently news came of their release, through 
 the agency of an unknown friend who had worked 
 unceasingly, and used secret and mysterious power to 
 get them set free. 
 
 At last the German mercenaries were happily got 
 rid of and sailed away; but almost before their 
 galleys were hull-down on the horizon the bitter foes 
 were at each other's throats again. A struggle d 
 outrance commenced. The Genoese, true to their
 
 14 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 policy, thought of a general who had long before 
 made himself odious to the people by his cruelties 
 and exactions, and sent him over in command. The 
 Corsicans also chose new leaders, one GiafFeri and the 
 father of Pasquale Paoli men of a noble and Spartan 
 character. Then set in desperate conflicts, savage 
 surprises, and massacres, wholesale burnings of the 
 crops, and cruel wasting of the country. Both parties 
 were growing exhausted, but the cruel spirit of the 
 oppressor was unabated. Famine came to their aid, 
 and began to thin the ranks of the unfortunate people. 
 In vain they appealed to the Emperor too, who had 
 solemnly guaranteed for them liberty, abolition of 
 taxes, a share in their own government, and the con- 
 ventional and constitutional privileges; but he was 
 too embarrassed with troubles of his own to think of 
 such engagements. Their spirit never abated. They 
 melted down their church bells into cannon. The 
 resources of the Genoese were also beginning to be 
 
 o o 
 
 exhausted. The bill for the profitless assistance of 
 the Germans amounted to some two millions, besides 
 sumptuous " gratifications " for the prince and other 
 generals. No wonder a sarcastic Frenchman applied 
 the fable of the hare which a gentleman wished to 
 have turned out of his pretty garden, and who with 
 that view got the assistance of a neighbour with a 
 hunting-party and a large pack of hounds. 
 
 The popular and more familiar character of the
 
 THE STOEY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 15 
 
 Corsicans seems to have been introduced to us from 
 the drama and the novel ; and the feature most 
 known is that of savage quarrels and the familiar 
 vendetta. Yet looking back to this era, this rather 
 brutal feature is hardly apparent, and we cannot suffi- 
 ciently admire their more sober and heroic virtue, 
 their indomitable and measured perseverance, their 
 ardent piety removed from fanaticism, their virtue, 
 and the skill with which their politics were directed. 
 
 It is scarcely wonderful that such conduct should 
 have excited the admiration of those looking on in 
 Europe, and that many sympathisers should have 
 wished to aid or encourage them, or, like Boswell, 
 have braved the discomforts of a serious journey to 
 visit them. They had just one little weakness 
 common to them with other excitable nations a love 
 for conducting their insurrections with the finery of a 
 rather theatrical display in the shape of dresses, titles, 
 etc. ; and it provokes a smile to find them in the 
 midst of burning crops and levelled houses, with their 
 oppressors gaining ground on them busy with thea- 
 trical punctilios, meeting to construct a constitution, 
 and carefully settling the names of their ranks, and 
 minutely balancing the titles by which they were to 
 be addressed. Thus Giafferi and Paoli were to be 
 called " primates of the kingdom," and to be addressed 
 as "royal highness." Members of the General Diet 
 were to be styled " most serene ; " and descending
 
 16 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR 
 
 grades were to be addressed as " excellence," " most 
 illustrious," with the nicely-adjusted titles accord- 
 ing to office. These delicate arrangements might 
 have been postponed until more tranquil and con- 
 venient times. Playing with such toys at such a 
 moment seems inconsistent with the nature of a brave 
 and resolute people reduced to great straits. It was 
 rather a foretaste of a romantic mystery which was 
 presently to envelop the island ; and may have been 
 the prompting of a yet unseen deliverer, who was 
 soon to reveal himself with more complete and gaudy 
 apparatus, and wished the ground to be prepared. 
 Already there was talk and whispers of a power from 
 the mainland who had vast influence with Eastern 
 and European potentates, but whose time had not yet 
 arrived. It could indeed have been noticed that the 
 released hostages Giafieri, Ceccaldi, and the priest 
 Astelli had a confident air, with a consciousness as 
 of a secret, and were whispering and looking for 
 despatches from the mainland. And one day, when 
 they were reduced very low indeed, two vessels stole 
 into the harbour of Isola Rossa and quietly landed 
 provisions and munitions of war ; it did seem as 
 though Heaven had at last interfered and sent them 
 this miraculous aid; though later it was discovered 
 that this was the handsome gift of two sympathising 
 Englishmen. 
 
 Inspirited by these succours and new hopes, they
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 17 
 
 rushed to the fray once more, attacked the little town 
 of Aleria, one of the strongholds of the Genoese Pale, 
 carried it, and then pushed on to attack Bastia, where, 
 however, they received a check. Then both sides 
 rested, a little weary. The Genoese were panic- 
 stricken, and now thought of applying for aid to the 
 King of Spain : for the famous Republic had become 
 beggars to all Europe. Then there was a pause. 
 
 AVe can almost call up a picture of that eastern 
 corner of Corsica one morning in the middle of March 
 soft, bright, and glittering, like so many mornings 
 upon an Italian sea. It was then one of the most 
 favoured spots of Corsica, at the edge of a vast plain, 
 and on the distant hills could be seen rich groves of 
 oaks and olives and chestnuts. As the Barbary 
 corsairs, who were the terror of those seas, swept by, 
 they could see the solemn dun-coloured Genoese 
 watch-towers rising solitary and mournful stone 
 sentinels which dotted the coast all round, like the 
 English martello towers. There were also relics of 
 the old Roman occupation a fragment of an amphi- 
 theatre, tablets, pillars ; and a little lagoon at the foot 
 of the town was a perfect natural harbour, and offered 
 the safest anchorage. Now it is all overgrown with 
 rank ferns, and the people have to fly to the 
 mountains to escape the pestilential malaria : the 
 lonely dun Genoese tower still stands, the only 
 survivor of the Corsican and Roman buildings. 
 
 VOL. i. c
 
 18 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR 
 
 We can almost see on that March morning the 
 picture of Giafferi's encampment : the Corsican soldier, 
 with his umber-coloured face, and his scarlet Phrygian 
 cap of liberty, the brown jerkin, the bottle slung 
 behind, and a rude native gun, carried by every man 
 even to this hour as though it were a walking-stick. 
 Now he clatters past at full speed on a shaggy 
 mountain pony, while the women cluster round, their 
 heads covered with the picturesque mappa. Close by, 
 the ruins of the bishop's palace were still smoking ; for 
 that Genoese prelate had excommunicated the insur- 
 gents ; and though he himself had narrowly escaped, 
 they wreaked their vengeance on his house. Such an 
 event threw all into a flutter of expectation. As we 
 have seen, there had long been some faint mysterious 
 hope of foreign rescue and assistance ; and the chief 
 had often significantly hinted that one day there 
 might arrive a deliverer with money, arms, ships, and 
 all resources. The conditions of such aid seemed 
 almost too romantic to be realised ; but something of 
 the kind was looked for. It was time ; for the hearts 
 of all were sinking. 
 
 Suddenly a sail was descried upon the horizon, 
 and a large vessel was seen slowly making for the 
 little lagoon. Behind, two smaller craft wore follow- 
 ing. The news drew all to the beach. The soldiers 
 clustered on shore in excitement. Now indeed the 
 romance was going to begin, and here was the first
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 19 
 
 chapter. Eager eyes discovered that the vessel 
 carried twenty guns. It glided on into the bay, 
 dropped anchor, and then showed the red English 
 colours. Next was hoisted a blue flag with a white 
 stripe a signal to the chiefs. The crowd must have 
 been in a flutter at this apparition ; but the chiefs all 
 had a conscious air. TJiey were in the secret. 
 Presently boats were seen putting off from the 
 ship. There was a glitter of colours, a flash of scarlet, 
 and a very remarkable-looking person, attended by 
 a large retinue, stepped on shore. The heads of the 
 chiefs were bent low. From his dress and bearing, 
 he was a person of distinction ; the crowd wondered 
 at the tall, stately, and commanding figure, so grave 
 and dignified, dressed in a flowing scarlet robe trimmed 
 with rich fur, with Moorish trousers, and yellow shoes. 
 His face was full, with a small beard and moustache ; 
 on his head was a flowing periwig and a large three- 
 cornered cocked-hat ; by his side a long Spanish 
 rapier, and in his hand a " crowbill " cane ; in his 
 sash of yellow silk were a pair of richly-inlaid pistols. 
 This picturesque figure, said to be dressed " d la 
 Franque" or in the garb Christians wore in Turkey, 
 was indeed likely to impress the rude natives, who 
 saw the chiefs receive him obsequiously, and with 
 prodigious marks of respect. Here, then, was the 
 mysterious deliverer so long expected ! But they 
 were to be yet more confounded ; for now the sailors 
 
 o 2
 
 20 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 of the English ship it was commanded by a Captain 
 Dick were beginning to unload. The retinue was 
 seen coming ashore, a complete train officers of 
 state, secretaries, chaplains, a steward, a lord steward, 
 a head cook, and four lackeys ; and the gaping natives 
 must have gaped still more when they saw three coal- 
 black Moorish slaves in Eastern dress, who were the 
 only element yet wanting to give a hint of despotic 
 power. The stores followed : " ten brass cannon, of 
 which six pieces were of large bore and twelve- 
 pounders ; 14,000 muskets; 3,000 pairs of shoes; 
 provisions of all sorts; 14,000 sacks of grain; 
 ammunition, hats, uniforms ; " and, above all, heavy 
 chests, carried with difficulty by the English tars, 
 and which were said to contain treasure to the 
 amount of 100,000 golden sequins. This, for a 
 first scene in the drama, was artistically arranged. 
 
 The chiefs, with the same obsequiousness and 
 reverence, led the august stranger away to Campo 
 Loro, where the bishop's palace had lately stood. 
 The wondering crowds heard them addressing him 
 as Excellency and Viceroy. Then it was allowed to 
 get abroad that this was the powerful man who had 
 listened to those prayers for help, which had been 
 refused by so many kings and potentates of Europe ; 
 that he had graciously accepted the overtures of 
 Count Rivarola, their faithful and trusty repre- 
 sentative at Leghorn, who arranged everything in
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 21 
 
 concert with the chiefs. This relief was only an 
 earnest of what he would do. The country would 
 yet be saved ! 
 
 The whole scene of that day was indeed more 
 romantic than any romance. We can see and 
 hear the excited islanders, jubilant yet wondering, 
 the gorgeous dresses, the retinue, the scarlet, the 
 Moors, with the English vessels lying oft* in the 
 harbour ; a standing reminder that the whole was 
 no dream. In a few weeks, nay, in not many 
 days, the news was all over Europe. The story 
 was told in the Gazette de Hollande, the Courier 
 of Leyden, and copied into the London papers. 
 Everybody was wondering and speculating : was it 
 Ripperda, or the renegade Bonneval from Tunis or 
 Constantinople ; or Law, Racocksky, or the Pre- 
 tender, or some other of the professional adven- 
 turers ? Who was it ? Who could it be ? The 
 proportions were all magnified and exaggerated. 
 The wildest stories went about ; but at Genoa, it 
 may be well conceived, all was consternation and 
 fury. Who this daring play-actor was, we shall 
 now try to discover. 
 
 All sorts of minute and official accounts of his 
 birth and career were sent abroad. Some of them 
 are contradictory ; and though we cannot accept a 
 very high-flown portion of a little history which his 
 own son, Baron Frederick, gave of him, and which
 
 22 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 is clearly merely adventurer's gasconade, still there 
 is no reason for rejecting the more moderate parts, 
 especially where they are corroborated by the in- 
 quisitive Mr. Boswell, who visited the island some 
 five-and-twenty years after the adventure. This 
 lively traveller and pleasant observer made ac- 
 quaintance with the very Rivarola who had nego- 
 tiated with the stranger, and heard from him a full 
 account of the business ; and he had besides been 
 "at particular pains" to acquire accurate information. 
 When this faithful Johnsonian terrier once sniffed 
 out the true biographical trail, he never lost it. 
 
 Mr. Tilson, of the Embassy at Hanover, a month 
 later, wrote to Sir T. Kobinson, the Secretary in 
 London, enclosing " King Theodore's letter to his 
 kinsman," and adds : " As you think everything that 
 tends to discover the life and actions of the Knight- 
 Errant is to be admitted, I also send you enclosed 
 what I met in a Paris letter in our hands ; " and which 
 is dated June 8th, 1736. 
 
 This document, which is in the British Museum, 
 gives a very bitter and sarcastic sketch of the adven- 
 turer, who was remembered in the French capital, and 
 had been brought up there. From this and many 
 other accounts, which have been compared, the 
 following may be accepted as a tolerably accurate 
 one : 
 
 " He was the son," says his son Colonel Frederick,
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 23 
 
 " of Anthony Baron cle Neuhoff, descended from one 
 of the most noble and illustrious houses in the county 
 of La Marck. Anthony had displeased his relations 
 in having married the daughter of a merchant of 
 Viseu. This marriage drew upon him the contempt 
 of all the nobility of the country, where they pique 
 themselves (to use their own expression) on purity of 
 blood, and where the nobles never contract alliances 
 but with persons of their own rank. This 'under- 
 match' occasioned Anthony to quit Germany, and go 
 to France, where he was well received by the Duchess 
 of Orleans." 
 
 It is certain he was a youth of " great parts," as it 
 was called, of insinuating manners and vivacity. He 
 is described as "a very favourable young man, had 
 an air of grandeur in his behaviour, a very captivating 
 manner of speaking, adroit in his exercises, knowing 
 how to accommodate himself to all tempers. At 
 Paris he had always kept good company, though the 
 expense of it agreed so little with his condition. His 
 vices were those of a man of quality ; and though the 
 consequences of them obliged him to do mean things 
 sometimes, yet these were visibly against his nature ; 
 and whenever by any lucky accident," adds the 
 chronicler sarcastically, " he got into the possession of 
 money, he took the first opportunity to indemnify those 
 who had suffered by him. He had a singular passion 
 for politics, and an unusual dexterity in discoursing
 
 24 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 on them. He recommended himself by this means 
 to several foreign ministers, who drew from him con- 
 siderable services, and rewarded them in such a 
 manner as, if he could have concealed their favours 
 and set any bounds to his expenses, might have 
 enabled him to live both easily and decently." 
 
 His mother's name was Amelia, said to be the 
 daughter of a linen merchant, who died soon 
 after her marriage, leaving her and the baron about 
 11,000 florins, which, with a company of foot and the 
 government of a small fort in Alsace, was their whole 
 provision. 
 
 A certain Dutch envoy, who had known Theodore 
 during some of his adventures, told Monnet, the 
 French writer, a very minute history of this West- 
 phalian baron, who seems to have been a sort of 
 soldier of fortune, and was killed at the assault on 
 Namur, when in the Brandenburg service, though 
 only the evening before he had obtained a colonel's 
 commission in the Spanish service. His wife, on this 
 same authority, was the daughter of a Spanish in- 
 spector of fortifications in Flanders. He left a son 
 and a daughter; the former of whom was born at 
 Cologne about the year 1686, and whose sponsor at 
 baptism was a M. de Bilderdeck, the Dutch envoy. 
 He was then put to school at Diisseldorf. His 
 mother, marrying again, brought him to France, and 
 placed him in the Academy at Longpre'. A Coun
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 25 
 
 Mortagne, who was about the court of the old coarse 
 Duchess of Orleans, took care of him, and procured 
 for Theodore the situation of page to the regent, and 
 for his sister that of lady-in-waiting to the refined 
 and excellent princess herself. This was not unsuit- 
 able training for a future adventurer. 
 
 He was undoubtedly a youth of parts, and, as all 
 adventurers should, had a natural gift for learning 
 languages. Before he was fifteen he spoke German, 
 French, and Italian very fluently. 
 
 Count Mortagne, according to Mr. Tilson's paper, 
 fell in love with Madame de Neuhoff, and placed her 
 son among the pages of Madame. Afterwards the 
 Due de Birrenfelds gave him a lieutenancy in an 
 Alsace regiment then quartered at Strasburg. But 
 Baron Theodore was disinclined to quit Paris, on 
 which the Marquis de Courcelles, who had taken a 
 fancy to him, gave him a commission in a cavalry 
 regiment, the Fiirstenberg Horse, of which he was 
 colonel ; and as the Count was son of the Marquis 
 d'Angeau, he had great influence. However, they 
 soon quarrelled. 
 
 " As the qualities of the soul," says his unlucky 
 son Frederick, " commonly manifest themselves be- 
 times, the baron at the age of twelve years displayed 
 a strong passion for heroic virtue. His favourite book 
 was Plutarch, which was never out of his hands, and 
 which he eventually got by heart." Thus his son :
 
 26 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AX HOUR. 
 
 but another account makes him at this time not 
 nearly so usefully employed, but busy as a courtier 
 And an inveterate gambler which forced him to fly 
 from Paris cribU de dettes. He then repaired to 
 Sweden, " drawn thither by a passionate admiration 
 for Charles XII.," and a wish to have some share in 
 his exploits. But it is more likely that his genius for 
 intrigue had begun to exhibit itself, and that he had 
 been despatched on some of the innumerable ." spying" 
 missions which were then part of the recognised 
 politics of every court. More earthly motives than 
 mere " lively admiration " of a hero, or for the. history 
 of Plutarch, were at work; and, as was said at the 
 beginning, the story of Casanova explains clearly the 
 whole mystery of an adventurer's migrations. There, 
 says the son, " he became perfect in the war," and 
 also attracted the notice of Gortz, the Swedish 
 minister, who saw in him the pliant qualities of an 
 emissary, and used him in several intricate negotia- 
 tions. One of these missions led him to Spain ; and 
 there can be little question that he was used to 
 negotiate the strange plot between Gortz and Alberoni 
 for placing James on the throne of England. Indeed, 
 this scheme, in various shapes, was the other great 
 episode of his life, and spread over many years. He 
 left Spain loaded with favours, and returned to 
 Sweden, where he was " graciously received " by 
 Charles. He then attended Gortz to the Hague,
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 27 
 
 where he engaged still more deeply in the Pretender's 
 plot, and stole over to England, where he met the 
 Jacobites, and concerted plans with them. The 
 Swedish ambassador, Count de Gillenbourg, so far 
 forgot his privileged character as to jqin the con- 
 spiracy ; and diplomatic Europe was presently scan- 
 dalised by learning that the sacred person of an 
 ambassador had been profaned by the hands of 
 London police-officers. Theodore had the very nar- 
 rowest escape, and got away to Holland. This alone 
 would make a dramatic incident in his life ; and his 
 son tantalised the public by promising a full account ; 
 but he had not the opportunity, nor indeed the 
 encouragement, to perform his promise. 
 
 At the Hague then a delightful and miniature 
 Paris, and a hotbed of political intrigue Theodore 
 was not safe. The States General, from an obsequious 
 complacency to England, had Gortz arrested, and 
 Theodore only escaped the same indignity by taking 
 sanctuary at the Spanish ambassador's. At the in- 
 stance of the regent, however, both were released, and 
 got back to Sweden, where Charles was before long 
 killed by the Frederickshall cannon-ball, and his late 
 minister was promptly beheaded at the foot of the 
 town gallows at Stockholm. This rough treatment 
 seemed ominous for those who had followed Gortz's 
 fortunes, and scarcely suited the bloodless paths of 
 intrigue which the true adventurer relishes. He
 
 28 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 therefore changed the scene, and next appears in 
 Madrid, where his peculiar gifts found a suitable field ; 
 and this wretched court, still full of the French 
 gamblers and intriguers, offered a fine pasture for our 
 adventurer. There he worked himself into high 
 favour, was made a colonel, and succeeded in marrying 
 one of the queen's maids-of-honour a Lady Sarsficld, 
 daughter to "Lord" Kilmallock, or Kilmarnock, one 
 of the Irish Jacobite exiles. This piece of good 
 fortune he was said to owe to Ripperda, who had 
 risen to the highest rank in the same profession. He 
 enjoyed, besides, a pension of some six hundred 
 pistoles. 
 
 A romantic incident, that reads like a passage in 
 " Gil Bias," is connected with his acquaintance with 
 Alberoni. " Very much out at elbows, and much to 
 the loss of his patron, he had fallen sick. As he 
 had scarce spirits enough to support him on his 
 legs, so his funds were scarcely sufficient to make 
 him eat. He had a handsome apartment, indeed, a 
 man-servant, and a nurse, but his circumstances were 
 so bad that she took her leave of him one morning 
 
 o 
 
 very respectfully before he was out of bed. When 
 his servant entered the room he started, and his 
 master asked him what was the matter, not a little 
 apprehensive that his nurse might have seized his 
 watch for her six weeks' attendance. " The matter 
 is," said the fellow, who was a Swiss, " why, here's
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 29 
 
 a purse of gold upon the table as big as my head." 
 The baron, forgetting his disorder, raised himself up, 
 and saw on his toilet a green purse with 2000 
 pistoles. He ordered his servant to give it 
 to him ; and, being then helped up, put it into a 
 drawer of his cabinet with as much coolness as if he 
 had taken it from thence, which the poor Swiss 
 firmly believed." 
 
 Bipperda was said to have allowed him 1000 
 pieces of eight a year for finding out intelli- 
 gence, and writing it to his employer. He was 
 further rewarded by a colonel's commission in a 
 German corps, which he was given the privilege of 
 raising, together with money ; but, unfortunately, his 
 love of expense and improvident marriage obliged 
 him to divert a good deal of this cash to his private 
 expenses, which obliged him to leave Spain. 
 
 It is curious to follow all the attempts he made to 
 get his services accepted, and how he devoted himself 
 to that metier of selling news or secret intelligence. 
 He was found to be shifty, and useful. 
 
 But the adventurer can never wholly settle down ; 
 marriage does not fix him ; and Theodore was unexcep- 
 tionally unstable. He fell into fresh debts. No doubt, 
 too, he had ambitious schemes and hopes of a success 
 like that of Bipperda, but failed. His son, nothing 
 extenuating, tells us bluntly of his next proceeding and 
 its motive. "At first the Baron entertained great hopes
 
 30 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AX HOUR. 
 
 from that alliance ; but finding afterwards that they did 
 not answer his expectations, he forsook his wife, who 
 was then pregnant of a son." Others, even less deli- 
 cate, add that, in addition to this desertion, he made 
 his escape with all her jewels. The adventurer of the 
 period always disappears with some such abruptness. 
 
 His life, having lost all appearance of official 
 recognition, was now to become fitful, uneasy, in- 
 secure, and shifting. He again shows himself at 
 Paris, mixed up with Law's proceedings, lotteries, 
 gambling, with the usual finale of having to fly 
 abruptly. Next he turns up at Amsterdam, where he 
 contrived to swindle large sums from the merchants, 
 whose friend and partner he became, no doubt using 
 his hocus-pocus of high names and his pseudo-influence 
 at courts. Next he appears in London, about the 
 year 1727, where it was given out years later that he 
 had stoppod at The Ipswich Arms, Cullum Street, and 
 had moved to a coffee-house, where he lay hid, and 
 "kept his bed, pretending to be ill;" about which 
 there is a suspicious minuteness savouring of inquiries 
 made of the London police. Again it was said he 
 succeeded in victimising the London merchants, and 
 had to fly with all speed. It is but fair to say, how- 
 ever, that these may be some of the wild canards 
 which the unscrupulous Genoese, who were as oddly 
 and laboriously venomous in their tittle-tattle as old 
 gossips, sent fluttering all over Europe. Florence
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 31 
 
 was then the next scene. A fresh story says he 
 appeared at Rome, where he gave out later that they 
 had three times attempted to poison him. But at 
 Florence we begin to get out of the vapours and 
 uncertain bogs in which the adventurer w r alks, to- 
 tread firmer ground, and see distances and dates more 
 accurately. His son says he was made " minister 
 resident " to the Emperor a transparent fiction, 
 unless indeed he was one of the usual unrecognised 
 schemers which every court then made use of, and 
 coolly disavowed or sacrificed if discovery followed. 
 The Genoese spies must have had their suspicions of 
 him. On his successful attempt they issued a sort of 
 hue and cry with a precis of his life, which has cer- 
 tainly an air of great truth. They said that in 
 London he had passed as a German, and in Genoa for 
 a Swede ; in other places for an Englishman ; that it 
 could be proved from passports and other papers that 
 he had always been changing his name passing as 
 Baron von Naxaer, Von Schimer, and even as Smith. 
 One of his Spanish proceedings, they said, was getting 
 money to hire some German mercenaries, which he 
 embezzled ; and considering that his son pursued the 
 same sort of agency, this has an air of probability. 
 He had borrowed some five hundred pieces from 
 Jaback, the Leghorn banker, and was arrested on a 
 charge of defrauding. He contrived then to get a 
 shipowner to become his security. He next had to
 
 32 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 go into the common hospital of the city to be cured 
 of illness ; and on his recovery set off to Tunis, where 
 he represented himself to be a physician, and finally 
 arranged his plot. All this is in keeping with the 
 adventurer ; even dates and names are given ; and 
 this dealing with shipowners and merchants and 
 bankers was the adventurer's routine in the days 
 when merchants were very daring and speculative in 
 their enterprises. 
 
 While he was at Tunis news arrived of the outrage 
 of the Genoese in seizing on the Corsican deputies. 
 It may be remembered that Prince Louis of Wiirtem- 
 berg was in command of some of the German troops 
 in the island, while another prince of the same house 
 had served with Charles the Twelfth in Sweden, 
 where Theodore had known him. Here was a link 
 for the adventurer, who was not slow to remind 
 Prince Louis of this connection. The adventurer, as 
 again we see in Casanova, would find old acquaint- 
 ances turning up in every city and court, sometimes 
 at intervals of long years, and sometimes awkwardly 
 enough. " His attachment to the interests of Prince 
 Maximilian in Sweden," says Theodore's son, addressing 
 the reigning Duke of Wiirtemberg and Teck in a dedi- 
 cation. It is really not improbable that he may have 
 had some influence over Corsican affairs through this 
 channel ; and the rather remarkable change in the 
 feeling of the Germans, who, after coming to subju-
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 33 
 
 gate the island for the Genoese, then became its 
 advocates, while the Emperor was its patron and 
 guarantor, may have been owing to the skilful or 
 crafty interference of Theodore, who was actually in 
 the city with the prince. As I have said, there was 
 no official accrediting of agents from the charmed 
 circle of diplomacy anyone with wits or cleverness 
 could be ipso facto a diplomatist. A versatile schemer 
 was a minister at five minutes' notice. In fact, as we 
 learn from Casanova, it was in a sort of routine for 
 "the clever" to get an introduction to a minister, 
 who, as a probation, tried them as humble instru- 
 ments, and, according to the dexterity exhibited, sent 
 them away on more important business. 
 
 From the Italian coast he was looking wistfully 
 over at the little island where the game was going on. 
 As he thought of some other games played with 
 success, of the men he had known who had played 
 them, a scheme occurred to him that was not so 
 far-fetched. He had already plotted for a throne 
 with Gortz and the Pretender ; he had seen Ripperda 
 and Law rise to seats on only the second step lower 
 than a throne. Now here was a throw for him. 
 
 The deputies detained were Giafieri, Ceccaldi, 
 Aitelli, and Rafaelli. Giafieri was a man of a noble 
 and gallant nature, bold, brave, temperate, and of the 
 same temper as Paoli. Rafaelli was a priest, and 
 with him, or more probably with the canon Orticoni, 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AX HOUR. 
 
 an agent of the Corsicans on the mainland, and who 
 was applying to all foreign courts in turn to take 
 up " the cause of the Corsicans," he established very 
 close relations. When he learned his interest and 
 close associations with the Wurtemberg family, it was 
 natural that they should turn to a man of such 
 influence. 
 
 The dedication by Colonel Frederick of his little 
 book to a prince of this house seems to prove satis- 
 factorily that these intimate relations existed. 
 
 " To his most Serene Highness the reigning Duke 
 of Wiirtemberg and De Teck, Count Montbelliard, 
 Lord of Haydenheim/ Justingen, etc., Knight of the 
 Order of the Golden Fleece, and Field Marshal of 
 the Empire, etc., etc., etc. 
 
 " SIR, The book I take the liberty to present to 
 your Highness is yours of right, as it contains the 
 materials for a history of a people, among whom a 
 Prince of your illustrious House,"* already celebrated 
 for his military exploits, no less distinguished himself 
 by his political knowledge and his humanity. My 
 father owed to it also the celebrity which brought on 
 him his misfortunes. His attachment, when he was 
 in Sweden, to the interests of Prince Maximilian,! 
 who, then young, was so highly honoured by 
 Charles XII., procured him the favour of Prince 
 
 * Prince Louis of WUrtemberg. 
 
 t Prince Maximilian of "\Viirtetnberff.
 
 THE STOKY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 35 
 
 Louis. This was the first cause of his connection 
 with the Corsicans, and of his future exaltation to 
 the throne. The protection of the illustrious house 
 of Wiirtemberg having thus, Sir, been long conferred 
 on us, my attachment to its interests is natural and. 
 hereditary. I venture to flatter myself, therefore, 
 that your most Serene Highness, looking upon it as 
 such, will do me the honour to afford me still the 
 opportunity of proving my admiration of your great 
 qualities, my zeal for your glory, my gratitude for 
 those distinguished obligations you have conferred on 
 me, and the most profound respect with which I am 
 your most Serene Highness's most humble and most 
 obedient servant FREDERICK." 
 
 He accordingly had many interviews with these 
 envoys, in which he played the role of patron, affecting 
 a certain coyness and hesitation and startling diffi- 
 culties." He was not rich, but he was very liberal ; 
 and would often make use of that saying of Alexander, 
 that his treasure was deposited among his friends. 
 Therefore the deputies conjured him to grant them 
 his protection, which he did the more willingly as he 
 foresaw as well as they that the Genoese would return 
 to the charge with more violence than ever. 
 
 He made them sensible that the peace between 
 them and the Eepublic of Genoa was not a peace, 
 but a deceitful shadow of one ; that the ill-will of the 
 
 Genoese towards them could not be abated in the 
 
 D 2
 
 36 KIXGS AND QUEENS OF AX HOUR. 
 
 least, for one always bears a mortal hatred to those 
 one has grievously offended ; that in running over 
 the history of those Republicans they would find 
 that they had rendered themselves famous only by 
 their evil deeds ; that their glory had no other foun- 
 dation than ruin, robberies, treacheries, and execrable 
 murders. He added that, as they had always fallen a 
 prey to so many different nations, who seemed to have 
 conquered that fine kingdom for no other end but to 
 destroy it, they could hope for no end nor mitigation 
 of their miseries but from a total change in the state ; 
 that they ought to form to themselves, therefore, a 
 plan of government suitable to their inclinations 
 either set up a republic or elect a king; that this 
 was the only means he could suggest in order to 
 procure them a solid and lasting tranquillity. 
 
 " To this discourse the deputies answered with grief 
 that they were but too sensible of the truth of what 
 he had said ; that the state of their affairs was really 
 melancholy and deplorable, their lives and fortunes 
 being entirely at the mercy of these tyrants, who 
 were more formidable to good men than to the vilest 
 wretches ; that their proceedings were unprecedented ; 
 that they took informations without denouncing them 
 to the parties accused, whom they judged and con- 
 demned without so much as hearing them ; that the 
 least surmise passed with them for a crime, and the 
 smallest appearance of guilt was always punished with
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 37 
 
 death. They concluded that, not being able to bear 
 any longer so many scourges and devastations, they 
 were resolved to break their chains at any rate ; but 
 that it was necessary they should be headed by a 
 man whose birth might inspire them with respect, 
 and whose talents might guide their efforts, for want 
 of which all their revolutions had proved unsuccessful. 
 That for this purpose they had pitched upon him, 
 and begged he would take upon himself so glorious 
 an enterprise, which would furnish ample matter to 
 posterity to immortalise his fame ; therefore, that he 
 would vouchsafe to be their deliverer, and give them 
 leave to offer him the crown as a recompense. 
 
 " The baron, as one may easily imagine, was 
 agreeably surprised at so great an offer, which he 
 did not in the least expect. He, however, declined 
 their offer ; but being afterwards pressed to give them 
 an answer, he said to them : ' Gentlemen, the affair 
 which you mention is of the highest consequence. I 
 can as yet see nothing in it but danger and obstacles ; 
 let us then take time to weigh the whole maturely, 
 and seek means to prevent the inconveniences that 
 surround so intricate an affair, and at the same time 
 secure to ourselves a happy issue.' 
 
 " The deputies renewed their instances a few days 
 after with more vehemence than ever ; upon this the 
 baron asked them whether the offer they had made him 
 was by order of the body of the nation, or whether they
 
 38 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 had done it of themselves ? The deputies answered 
 they had done it of their own accord; but that 
 they were very sure the nation would desire no better. 
 'Well then/ returned the baron, 'if it is so, I am 
 willing to run all the risks that so dangerous an 
 enterprise is liable to, to free so brave a people from 
 slavery ; and if I fail therein, I shall at least have the 
 glory of leaving a noble example to posterity.' He 
 then enjoined them to return to Corsica, to inform 
 their countrymen of his goodwill towards them ; to 
 exhort them to be firm and unanimous in their 
 resolutions ; to hold themselves in readiness, without, 
 however, discovering their designs, whilst he should 
 make the necessary preparations for the accomplish- 
 ment of their wishes." 
 
 According to one account his claim to his elevation 
 was founded upon services less romantic than inter- 
 cession for prisoners. He is described as acting as 
 commercial agent for the Corsicans ; freighting vessels 
 for them ; disposing of their merchandise ; acting, in 
 fact, as commission agent. Yet he contrived to 
 invest himself with a suitable air of mystery, and the 
 Genoese spies could never make out who he was, but 
 reported him sometimes an English lord, an Italian 
 priest, or even a German prince. 
 
 It should be mentioned that in their extremity 
 the Corsicans had been, as it were, hawking about 
 their island, offering it to various influential potentates.
 
 THE STOKY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 39 
 
 As was to be expected, there was "a national party" 
 who did not approve of this proceeding, headed by 
 one Astoldi, who said " that they did not fight to 
 change masters." The Canon Orticoni, who seems to 
 have been one of the "fighting priests " of the pattern 
 that Ruffo was later in Italy, actually repaired to 
 Spain, and made a formal offer of his island to the 
 king, who in courteous terms declined the embarrass- 
 ing present ; but was willing, he said, to accept of a 
 couple of regiments of sturd)^ Corsicans, to be raised 
 in the island ; on which the Canon declared heroically 
 that " he came to offer their hearts, not to sell their 
 bodies." All this was going on apart from the 
 negotiations with Theodore, which was the work of 
 another faction ; for, as is invariably the case, the 
 island was rent by parties. Theodore took occa- 
 sion to sound Astoldi on the phrase " they did not 
 fight to change masters," and he entertained the plan 
 favourablv, being for "a free state," with a chief of 
 
 */ * c_/ 
 
 their own. 
 
 Another agent of the Corsicans, Count Bivarola, 
 was living at Leghorn also watching the interests 
 of his countrymen a gentleman of moderate opinions, 
 well-affected to the republic, but whose moderation 
 had only exasperated that insane government. Many 
 years later, he furnished young Mr. Boswell, who was 
 then going over to the island, with letters, and en- 
 couraged him. Theodore, passing from Genoa to
 
 40 KIXGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 Leghorn, saw much of this Corsican, and had the 
 art to persuade him to come into his plans. No 
 doubt the bait he hung out before Rivarola and the 
 other deputies' eyes was the influence he possessed at 
 the Emperor's court ; and he was not long in per- 
 suading them that the sole chance for the islanders 
 was to consolidate themselves into a monarchy, and that 
 this step would be a safeguard against those wretched 
 internal quarrels which helped to make them the 
 prey of a foreign power. The result of these dis- 
 cussions was, that Theodore agreed to their proposals, 
 and it was arranged that they should get the consent 
 of their countrymen to make him king, in return 
 for which he engaged to procure them the protection 
 of a great power, to furnish them with stores, arms, 
 and all sorts of supplies. He would not ask them to 
 fulfil their part of the contract until he had given 
 earnest, as it were, of his, and had arrived with ships 
 and stores. This singular arrangement was duly 
 concluded; and the daring adventurer had then to 
 think how he was to set about his scheme. 
 
 At this time there were two other adventurers on 
 the boards, who were known to Theodore, and whom 
 he thought of at this stage of his programme. One 
 was the famous Bonneval, then at Constantinople, 
 later to be a distinguished renegade, who donned 
 the turban and became Osman Pasha ; the other was 
 Racocksky, once Prince of Transylvania, but who had
 
 THE STOKY OF THEODOKE OF CORSICA. 41 
 
 been deprived of his kingdom, and had gone to 
 Turkey, to the Grand-Seignior, waiting for some- 
 thing to turn up. Theodore did not long hesitate. 
 After trying the ministers of Spain and other courts, 
 he at last took the energetic step of sailing for 
 Constantinople. The voyage was then a perilous 
 one ; but the adventurer did not want for courage. 
 Even thirty years later, the waters between Leghorn 
 and the African coast were swept by pirates, and the 
 name of Barbary corsairs made the Laird of Auchin- 
 leck pause before he could bring himself to embark. 
 It was said that Theodore was captured, and carried 
 to Algiers, where he was imprisoned, and only re- 
 leased on payment of a thousand sequins. He, 
 however, got successfully to Pera, where he saw 
 Kacocksky, whom he dazzled with a plan for the 
 recovery of his lost throne. He mapped out a scheme, 
 in which the Turks were to cross over and make 
 a new invasion of the empire, and so excited his 
 hopes, that Theodore was introduced to Bonneval. 
 That was not to be the last embassy made to the 
 renegade. A few years later, Casanova, who, as it 
 were, holds up a torch by which we can read the 
 history of his brethren, came on a mission from an 
 important cardinal at Eome to this clever adventurer, 
 and gives a graphic account of the portly European 
 Pasha and a " library," as he called it, where he kept 
 his European wines. We can hardly accept the glit-
 
 42 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 tering programme which this company of adventurers 
 are said to have mapped out ; but we may conceive 
 that the adroit and persevering Theodore could have 
 so far prevailed as to have received letters and pro- 
 mises of patronage, and perhaps substantial assistance, 
 in the scheme he was meditating. 
 
 His scheme was this : " He proposed," his son 
 tells us, "to render the Turk master of all Italy, 
 to make the Island of Corsica serve for a kind of 
 warehouse to the Moors of Tunis and Algiers, from 
 whence they might easily and without any risk 
 make descents on the coasts of Genoa and Tuscany, 
 whilst the Moors of Tripoli disembarked on those 
 of Calabria, and the Turks in the Marche of Ancona. 
 He showed the facility of that enterprise almost to 
 a demonstration. He added that this conquest would 
 open a way into Germany, that one might penetrate 
 into Styria through Frioul, and then set up the 
 Ottoman standard before the gates of Vienna with 
 more ease and success than it was done by the 
 Vizier Kara Mustapha. That they might there be 
 joined by another Turkish army by the way of 
 Hungary ; and thus the house of Austria would be 
 irrecoverably lost. Racocksky, charmed with Neuhoff s- 
 plan, referred him to Osman Pasha, Count de Bon- 
 neval, to whose counsels and conduct the Grand- 
 Seignior afterwards owed all the advantages gained 
 by his arms over those of the Imperialists. Bonne val,
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 43 
 
 naturally inclined to great enterprises, and irritated 
 also against the Emperor, was immediately sensible 
 of the extent of this plan, and made the best of 
 it at the Porte. It was agreed that succour should 
 be granted to the baron, but on condition that he 
 should hold Corsica as a fief of the Porte ; that in 
 the meantime proper measures would be taken for 
 the conquest of Italy under the direction of the Count 
 de Bonne val and Prince Eacocksky." 
 
 Theodore next appeared at Tunis, worked on the 
 merchants, contrived to draw in the English consul, 
 who, like his nation, favoured the " brave Corsicans ;" 
 and at last this indefatigable man succeeded in so far 
 discounting his future chances as to obtain, either 
 from the Dey or from the merchants, sufficient to- 
 equip his theatrical little expedition. There was a 
 wise policy in his starting from that African coast ; 
 for he brought with him a dim and Eastern sense 
 of grandeur and support. All these operations, this 
 journeying about, these applications to the various 
 courts, took two or three years. 
 
 He was certainly a gallant adventurer, and his 
 perseverance deserved to be rewarded. He had now 
 succeeded. His little flotilla was lying in the Bay 
 of Aleria ; this theatrical chevalier was sleeping on 
 the first night of his arrival, having cast off his 
 scarlet caftan ; and the impulsive Corsicans believed 
 they had now among them a saviour who would raise
 
 44 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 np their nation. The likeness to the Irish still con- 
 tinues, who, during the old Kebellion, were always 
 looking out for strangers to make a descent on the 
 coast " dressed in green and gold." 
 
 But that was to be about the most romantic scene 
 of the whole piece. With the next morning the more 
 serious business was to commence. As was men- 
 tioned, the news spread far and wide, and at once 
 reached Genoa, which was only a day's sail away. 
 They were half frantic with rage, but were more 
 affected with spite. They sent abroad almost absurd 
 little biographies, depicting him in the most infamous 
 colours. But both the islanders and Theodore him- 
 self behaved with moderation, not advancing hastily, 
 but making sure of their ground. He spoke to the 
 leaders with great candour, and told them that the 
 ships they saw were only a portion of the succour 
 that was to arrive ; that more was on its way a 
 declaration which proved to be correct within a few 
 weeks. But he declared to them, with great plain- 
 ness, that what he wished for was the crown ; that 
 it would be for their interests as well as for his ; 
 and that his relations with the various courts, 
 powerful as they were now, would be on quite a 
 different footing when he should be able to address 
 them as an elected king. 
 
 This ingenious argument had its effect. Giafferi 
 and Paoli, with Costa, the leading lawyer of the
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 45 
 
 country, were no hot-headed patriots, but wise and 
 thoughtful men. They weighed the matter, and 
 agreed in the meantime that he should take the title 
 of viceroy, until a formal appeal should have been 
 made to the people. Meanwhile he assumed all the 
 trappings of state. Cannon and sentries were placed 
 at the door of the palace. He was served off silver ; 
 he went to the cathedral in state, and attended by 
 guards. Then Giafferi and the deputies gave out 
 to the people what they had kept secret that it was 
 to him they owed their liberation from the Genoese 
 dungeons. A wonderful being ! Even his titles rang 
 out sonorously : the Lord Theodore, Grandee of 
 Spain, a Lord of England, a Peer of France, a Count 
 of the Holy Roman Empire, and a Prince of the 
 Holy See ! 
 
 In this elation he could not resist writing the 
 glorious news to a relation in his native town, a Baron 
 Drost, to whom he wrote affectionately after an 
 interval of many years. This letter is given in the 
 little French "Memoires Secrets;" but Gregorovius, 
 the delightful Corsican traveller, says he saw the 
 original in MS. in the island. This curious corrobora- 
 tion of what one would at first be inclined to treat as 
 a bit of romance, induces us to accept other details as 
 founded on fact. This person had been a sort of 
 guardian of Theodore's childhood at Brandenburg and 
 in the regions about Rouschenberg, where various
 
 46 KIXGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 cousins were staying ; and after an interval of long 
 years, Theodore recalls himself to his recollection. 
 He glosses over with some odd apologies his own wild 
 career and disappearance, laying it all to the account 
 of " the disorder and disarrangement occasioned by 
 some evil-minded persons, and perhaps also through 
 my natural desire to travel incognito" His sole aim 
 all this time was to return triumphantly home, and 
 provide for these relatives, and " annihilate the 
 calumnies" that had been sown abroad about him. 
 In fact, this would seem to mean that he had been 
 cast off by his family, who were scandalised by his 
 irregular escapades. Now, however, he had the 
 pleasure to announce to them and a most piquant 
 announcement it must have been that he had 
 attained to his present glittering elevation ; and all 
 he was anxious for was, that his friends and relations 
 should come out and gather round him, and share in 
 his great good fortune. 
 
 There is a strain of exalted piety all through this 
 curious production, in which he speaks a good deal of 
 the " divine assistance," and of his aim to make the 
 whole enterprise " redound more to the honour of 
 God and the good of his neighbour," attributing all 
 his success "to the grace of God." This was, no 
 doubt, chosen to suit the naturally fervent tempers of 
 the Corsicans, who mingled with their patriotism a 
 very high strain of devotion. This document was
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 47 
 
 dated only a few days after his arrival ; and in due 
 time the Baron Drost accepted the invitation, and set 
 out to join his royal relative. 
 
 There is a curious link between this adventurer 
 and a remarkable man of our own day, who also won 
 a kingdom, not for himself, but for another. It is 
 strange to think that Theodore's blood ran in the 
 veins of Joseph Garibaldi, and may be accountable 
 for those daring freaks which have made that name 
 famous. Among those who had joined him was a 
 certain Giovanni Battista Sinabaldi ; and this Corsican 
 he despatched home to Westphalia with the letter to 
 Baron Drost, or as some say to his mother, still alive. 
 The envoy arrived in safety, and was greatly struck 
 by the charms of Catherine, Theodore's sister. He 
 wrote for Theodore's consent to their union, which 
 was graciously accorded. The pair settled later at 
 Nice, where the husband became a doctor, and his son 
 is said to have been the grandfather of Joseph 
 Garibaldi. If this be so and it is attested by the 
 registry lately discovered at Euggeberg the bold 
 captain at Marsala is the nearest claimant to that 
 kingdom of Yvetot.* No doubt the same messenger 
 brought back Theodore's son, a lad of about ten 
 years old, and dignified with the name of the 
 " Prince of Caprera." He too was to have a dismal 
 history of his own, and was old enough then to 
 * See AtJienceum, 1860.
 
 48 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 be able later to recall the curious and romantic 
 scenes of his early boyhood. 
 
 It was often repeated, that European powers were 
 working behind the scenes. This was the belief of 
 the Marquis d'Argens. There could be no doubt 
 that vague assurances were given to him of some 
 support in the future ; but they were afraid to inter- 
 fere, as it was known that the Emperor and the 
 French court, while hesitating themselves, would 
 resent and not tolerate the appearance of any great 
 power on the stage. These great supporters of the 
 divine-right theory were known to be looking with 
 jealousy on this mushroom monarchy, which yet 
 seemed to have a greater vitality than might be 
 expected from a mushroom origin. 
 
 Mr. Boswell, who met all degrees of persons, and 
 who would not have scrupled to question leading 
 diplomatists as to the reports spread abroad con- 
 cerning Theodore, applied himself to finding out the 
 truth of the matter. "Theodore," he says, "was a 
 most singular man, and had been so beaten about 
 by change of fortune, that he had lost the common 
 sentiments of mankind, and viewed most things as 
 one who is mad, or drunk, or in a fever. His scheme 
 was to amuse the Corsicans with hopes of foreign 
 aid, and by the force of hope to carry them forward. 
 This might have succeeded ; in which case he could 
 very easily have said, that the- foreign aid would
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 49 
 
 have come, had there been occasion for it ; but they 
 had behaved with such spirit as to require no help." 
 This seems a fair and rational view. 
 
 Theodore at once saw the fatal effect of divisions 
 and jealousies among these hot spirits, which had 
 hitherto paralysed all his efforts ; and he straight- 
 way assembled the tribes in a great plain, and made 
 them solemnly swear an eternal peace among them- 
 selves ; making them, besides, invoke the penalty ^ of 
 death upon their own heads, if they should prove 
 false to their vow. This politic stroke had the 
 happiest effect; and one of the "Neri" and one of 
 the "Kossi" two factions of the island having 
 renewed the old quarrel, he had them both sum- 
 marily hanged, in pursuance of their own compact. 
 This severity, it was said, completely extinguished 
 these old vendettas again so like the Irish faction- 
 fighting and he then prepared for a solemn act. 
 
 Sunday, April 15th, must have been another 
 glorious day for the adventurer to look back to, 
 years after. At Allesani, a little village beyond the 
 Tavignano, there was a convent, and only thirty 
 miles from Bastia, where the Genoese were encamped, 
 all the Corsicans assembled. Deputies from every 
 commune or pieve> from the clergy and monasteries, 
 formed a congress, while thousands of the people 
 remained outside, and waited in anxious expectancy. 
 Everything was done admirably, decorously, and 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 with wisdom by this surprising nation, who were 
 kept straight, as it were, by some clever coun- 
 sellors and lawyers, for which Corsica even then 
 had a reputation. The scene must have been a 
 picturesque one. The conditions were drawn up ; a 
 regular constitution, better than many a one framed 
 under more favourable auspices, was adopted ; and 
 the crown offered to " the Baron de Neuhoff," with 
 these conditions. It was to be settled on him and 
 on his line, and, in default of heirs, on any successor 
 he was to appoint. All were to be of the Catholic 
 religion. In all acts he was to be controlled by a 
 Diet of twenty-four members at least, in such acts 
 as related to taxes, war and peace, and commerce. 
 All export-taxes were to be abolished. A fixed 
 sum should be charged for salt ; and above all, the 
 Genoese were to be chased from the country. No 
 foreign troops were to be tolerated, save such as 
 his majesty should please to introduce into the 
 country. (The poor Corsicans believed they were 
 presently to see the horizon covered with white 
 sails, sent by a great foreign power to help their 
 king.) The annual "family-tax" should not be 
 higher than three livres each ; and widows were 
 to be exempt from all taxes a rather touching 
 provision, which showed how the cruel necessities 
 of the war had called for such an exemption. It 
 was provided too which showed a calm forethought
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 51 
 
 that a public university should be forthwith estab- 
 lished and endowed ; all offices were to be conferred 
 on natives alone. Giafferi solemnly read these con- 
 ditions to the people, who accepted them. Then the 
 Baron Theodore signed them, and was sworn upon 
 the Gospels to observe them. Next all proceeded 
 to the church of the village, where high mass was 
 sung ; and, the high mass over, a pastoral coronation 
 took place, when a crown of simple laurel and oak- 
 leaves was placed on his head by the generals, and 
 in the old classical fashion he was carried out on 
 the shoulders of the chiefs and shown to the people, 
 who were shouting frantically, " Long live Theodore 
 our king ! " " Liberty for ever ! " From the gloomy 
 yard of the London King's Bench prison how his 
 eyes must have looked back wistfully to that fail- 
 Sunday morning to the high mass in the village 
 church where he sat enthroned, and to the music 
 of those shouts ! 
 
 It must be said that the adventurer, now that the 
 scenic business was over, showed a most practical 
 spirit. The man who had known and perhaps served 
 under the great captain of Sweden, at once turned 
 his experience to profit. He formed the straggling 
 guerilla corps into twenty-four regiments, and intro- 
 duced strict discipline and drill. Four of the chiefs 
 he made colonels, with regular appointments, reach- 
 ing to the modest sum of 400 livres. The muskets 
 
 E 2
 
 52 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 and shoes were distributed among the soldiery ; and 
 the first exercise of his prerogative was to dub a 
 leading citizen of Aleria a knight. He lived in what 
 
 o <-> 
 
 was called a palace ; had a special guard of 300 men, 
 who were seen with drawn sabres ; and two cannons 
 opened their brazen jaws at his gate. Then he set him- 
 self to the distribution of offices. Costa the lawyer 
 became Garde des Sceaux and Chancellor of the king- 
 dom. Another doctor, Cafforio, was Secretary of State, 
 with the title of Count ; Arrighi was Secretary of War, 
 Taglio Minister of Finance ; Castagnetti and Fabiani 
 were appointed military commanders of provinces ; 
 while Luis Giafferi and Paoli were appointed gene- 
 ralissimos and governors of the kingdom, with the 
 title of Excellency. Countships and marquisates were 
 distributed with a lavish hand. 
 
 All these things, magnified by travel, intrigued 
 the world and disquieted the Genoese ; and it was 
 presently given out that three more vessels had 
 arrived with succour and stores. The Republic seemed 
 utterly scared ; their soldiers, cooped up in Bastia, 
 had to look on at these strange proceedings. At 
 Genoa all they could do was to search the police- 
 registers, and with such materials as they could find 
 there, compose a spiteful, fretful proclamation, in 
 which, with a sad loss of dignity, " we, the Doge and 
 procurators of the Republic," describe the adventurer 
 as " the soi-disant Baron Theodore." It reads like the
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 53 
 
 scolding of an angry woman. They described him 
 contemptuously as some mountebank, " dressed up 
 in Eastern fashion, who had come with some cannon 
 and powder," and " who had given away a few little 
 gold pieces." As it was their duty to look after the 
 welfare of their Corsican subjects, it was only right to 
 let them know the quality of this impostor. They 
 artfully said that he was given to magic and the 
 cabala, hoping with this insinuation to turn the clergy 
 against him. They gave the little police description 
 of him that has been already quoted. " Everywhere 
 he has swindled someone ; having cunning enough to 
 keep his schemes secret until he has got away, when 
 everything is discovered. A letter from a German 
 gentleman in Lisbon, and dated the February of the 
 current year, proves all this convincingly." Then 
 they quote the deed of his discharge from jail at 
 Leghorn, dated the 6th September, 1735, and sworn 
 before the notary Jean Baptiste Gumano, and that 
 he was there received into the public hospital as a 
 common pauper. They had ascertained, they said, 
 the history and characters of those who made up the 
 retinue. The " chaplain " was a degraded priest, who 
 had been dismissed from a convent at Tunis ; there 
 were two runaway youths from Leghorn, called Atti- 
 man and Bondelli ; a certain Christoforo, brother to 
 Bongiurno, a doctor at Tunis ; and one of the blacks 
 was Mahomet, a notorious galley-slave. No doubt
 
 54 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AX HOUR. 
 
 there were some grains of truth in these sketches ; for 
 the adventurer cannot be very nice in the choice of 
 his followers, and can only pick up the irregulars of 
 society and those in a lower grade than himself. The 
 Doge was " anxiously solicitous " lest a man of such 
 "depraved manners" should have an evil influence 
 over his dear subjects in Corsica ; and pronounced 
 him guilty of treason and lese-mcijestc, as also those 
 who favoured him, and " would disturb the repose of 
 our people." This complacent document was signed 
 at the palace on the 9th of May, and duly published 
 and scattered over Corsica. 
 
 For the moment it had no effect. Even at Bastia 
 the common people, as they read it on the walls, 
 wrote under it : " Long live King Theodore ! " But 
 in due time it began to make an impression, as his 
 son owns. When the excitement had worn off, the 
 stories were repeated ; and the son also thought 
 it was not a judicious step, the taking up the 
 challenge, and replying to them in the same tone. 
 Theodore said publicly : " Since the Genoese say I am 
 a mountebank, I'll come and play on their stage 
 at Bastia ! " This document was headed grandly : 
 "Theodore the First, primarily through the grace of 
 God and the most holy and undivided Trinity, and 
 secondly by the choice of the true and ever-glorious 
 liberators and fathers of the country, King of Corsica." 
 It is in a tone of banter, of scoffing, scarcely dignified.
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 55 
 
 He never thought it necessary to give them notice of 
 his attempt. He would now, therefore, tell them that 
 he had changed his abode, being quite tired of wan- 
 dering, and that he thought, as they were so near to 
 him, it was only polite to give them notice. Their 
 representative at Bastia should also hear of his having 
 a, new neighbour, but in another shape. They said he 
 was a disturber of the peace. How, pray ? Who had 
 disturbed the peace in Corsica all these years back ? 
 They talked of lese-majeste ; whence did they derive 
 majeste at all, if not from their cupidity and trading, 
 and that greed of money which invites over Turks 
 and unbelievers, and was the subject of laughter in 
 England ? a merchant there directing a letter to 
 
 " Mr. , Doge and general dealer ! " This was an 
 
 answer to the charge of his bringing Mahometans 
 with him. He went back to history, to the years 
 A.D. 1272, 1317, and 1373, when he showed that the 
 Genoese joined the Turks for pillage. This was all 
 childish enough ; but he wound up with a bold 
 defiance in a better tone, saying he would have 
 10,000 men at his back, and money to pay them. 
 As for their charges, they were simply lies. He 
 hoped, sarcastically, that in the future combats at 
 least one Genoese would be seen leading on their 
 troops. But he doubted it, as they were too much 
 engrossed with their traffic and bills of exchange. 
 This curious document w r as " given at the Camp "
 
 56 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AJS T HOUR. 
 
 he had already begun to move " in July," and 
 countersigned by his chancellor. 
 
 Having thus met their gasconade with something 
 like gasconade, he turned to serious business. Under 
 his unwearied exertions, things actually began to take 
 shape. Some trained officers had arrived possibly 
 in the three new ships and were placed in command. 
 Over 20,000 men were collected and disciplined. 
 There was an air of organisation abroad. The Genoese, 
 now scared, kept close within their fastnesses. The 
 king even exercised a most tangible and satisfactory 
 proof of royal prerogative, namely, that of coining 
 money, and struck, or caused to be struck, on the 
 Continent, a number of silver and copper pieces. 
 They were rather clumsy performances, and the silver 
 specimens were very scanty indeed they were of the 
 class known to the French as pieces de necessite, and 
 a pendant to King James's Irish gun-money. But 
 the greed of collectors all over the world was greatly 
 excited ; they were eagerly bought up at four zechins 
 apiece for cabinets ; and when the supply failed, a 
 spurious mint was set to work at Naples.* Mr. 
 Boswell succeeded in picking up a five-sous piece. 
 
 * An engraving of a copper coin is given in the works of Lord 
 Orford, voL i. p. 155. The obverse consists of a royal crown, 
 underneath which are the letters T. R., surrounded by two branches 
 of laurel, with the date, 1 736, below. In the centre of the reverse 
 the sum is indicated, viz., "Soldi ciiupii ;" the legend, which is 
 nearly defaced, appears to have been " Re per il lono pullico"
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 57 
 
 He contrived to find leisure to arrange a simple 
 code of law, criminal and civil, which he himself 
 administered ; sitting, inquiring, examining witnesses 
 with great pains and impartiality. This, however, 
 may have occurred at a later stage ; for the present 
 moment his hands were full ; and within a month 
 from his arrival, he was in the field and advancing to 
 the attack. He unfurled the Corsican colours, green 
 and gold, with the motto " In te, Domine, speravi" 
 fell upon Porto Vecchio and Sartene, and carried both 
 by a coup de main. Flushed with this success he 
 arrived before Bastia ; in front of which he dated his 
 replies to the Doge, and haughtily summoned the 
 garrison to surrender, giving the commander six days 
 to leave the island, and telling him that in case of 
 refusal he would force him. Here again was gas- 
 conade ; and the commander replied in the same tone, 
 fortifying his answer with a broadside which dis- 
 ordered the assailants. He then formed a new plan : 
 to divide his forces into bands, and attack the various 
 forts simultaneously. Arrighi, the " minister at war," 
 
 There was another piece, the half of this, of the same metal; and 
 also a third coin, value unknown, with the effigy of the Blessed 
 Virgin Mary impressed on one side of it, accompanied by the 
 following motto: " Honstra te csse matrem" show thyself a 
 mother. 
 
 There is a print of this last in a curious French work on coins, 
 published at Paris, entitled "Recueil general des Pieces obsidionales 
 et de necessite," par M. Pierre Duby. 3 vols. 4to.
 
 58 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR 
 
 was sent to San Fiorenzo ; others were detached to 
 Ajaccio, San Pellegrino, and various places. They 
 had some successes ; and made a prize of large stores 
 of arms, which the Genoese had sent out to arm the 
 natives of a district. Thence Theodore rallied again 
 round Bastia, the siege of which he turned into a 
 blockade, cutting off the water and provisions ; and 
 as the people of that quarter were known to be 
 favourable to the Genoese, he levied a war contribu- 
 tion which was estimated at about 700,000 livres. 
 Two wealthy seigneurs called Angeli were punished 
 by a fine of 4000 livres each. Another district, 
 called Calenzala, having shown signs of hesitation, 
 and not unnaturally considering that they were 
 completely at the mercy of the Genoese, he sent 
 them a stern notice that they must prepare to 
 have their lands ravaged with fire and sword, 
 which speedily caused them to make up their 
 minds. The country was thus swept ; then the 
 Genoese took the characteristic step of enlarging the 
 galley-slaves, together with the scum, or cream, of 
 the dungeons of the superb city, and formed them 
 into a band of 1500 men. These wretches were 
 turned loose upon the country, did all kinds of 
 excesses, and acquired the nickname of Oriendi or 
 Vittoli, after an infamous murderer who was held in 
 execration. The great Kepublic itself had descended 
 very low indeed.
 
 THE STOEY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 59 
 
 Meanwhile, it was only in the usual course of 
 things that some reaction should set in, and that an 
 enthusiastic and impetuous people should have its 
 moments of discontent. One act of severity caused 
 deep murmurs. A certain Count Casacolli, who had 
 once before gone over to the Genoese, was now dis- 
 covered in a plot. The council of Theodore, as it was 
 supposed, had him shot summarily. On the other 
 hand, a certain Marquis de Silva Bastia was dis- 
 covered in a plot with the rebels, was put on board a 
 galley of the Republic, and carried off to a dungeon. 
 
 The gazetteers and chroniclers now all at once 
 changed their tone. The indefatigable Genoese sent 
 abroad rumours that the people were tired of him, 
 and discontented at his cruelties and severity ; that a 
 third party was forming in the island ; and that the 
 relations of the executed Casacolli, having lured one 
 of Theodore's generals into a deserted part of the 
 country, had there " arquebussed " him. There were 
 most likely grains of truths in these reports ; for 
 the people were impulsive and changeable. But they 
 were soon refuted by some really brilliant achieve- 
 ments. The skirmish at Ziglia, on the 20th of July, 
 when the Genoese were routed a repulse three days 
 later at Isola Rossa, when their boats were scattered, 
 and they were driven back with the loss of four 
 hundred men and of their commander Marcelli was 
 a significant refutation. Eight hundred muskets,
 
 60 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 fifty barrels of powder, and five months' pay for the 
 soldiers were the spoils of this little victory. 
 
 Later, at Turiano, close to Bastia, forty Corsicans 
 held a body of 1000 Genoese at bay for nearly six hours. 
 Theodore himself led an attack on Leuto, where the 
 inhabitants had gone over to the Republic, summoned 
 them to surrender, routed the Genoese who opposed 
 him, and hanged some prisoners by way of reprisals 
 for similar barbarity on the side of the Genoese. 
 At the same time he sent word to their commander 
 that, if the system was continued, he could give no 
 quarter. Indeed, the general of the Republic was in 
 sore straits. His soldiers were deserting in bands, 
 and the whole garrison of San Ildefonso disappeared 
 one morning, each soldier carrying off two muskets. 
 Inside Bastia there was confusion ; and he was pre- 
 paring to try by court-martial the Colonel Marcelli, 
 who was thought to have behaved badly at "Red 
 Island," but who obtained sanctuary in the church 
 of the Jesuits. Gradually the places they held 
 were growing smaller in number every day, and 
 could be counted on the fingers. Yet all this time 
 the Republic kept up its game of "brag;" was 
 never wearied of sending out its scandal and gossip. 
 "I remember," wrote one from Paris, "this man's 
 wife very well ; she died here a few years ago in 
 great destitution. She was an Irish young lady ; 
 sister, I think, to Lord Kilmallock. He pretended
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 61 
 
 after their marriage to raise a regiment, and through 
 her interest obtained the money in advance, which 
 he spent on himself." This was not the only story. 
 Meanwhile the Genoese were being hard pressed, and 
 now could only get their supplies even water from 
 the sea. 
 
 Theodore, while playing the part of captain, found 
 time to think of civil reforms. He began by accord- 
 ing liberty of conscience to all, on the model adopted 
 in Holland perhaps an injudicious step among such 
 a people and encouraged everyone of every religion 
 and country to come to the island by the bounties 
 of free worship and grants of land, and a promise of 
 churches built at his own expense. The invitation 
 was at once accepted, and a whole crowd of Greeks 
 and Jews poured in from the Morea and Tunis, who 
 immediately established themselves in a quarter of 
 their own, and began to build. A more questionable 
 toleration was the reception of escaped galley-slaves, 
 which, however, may have been meant as a counter- 
 stroke to the Genoese. In Bastia the privations 
 were growing so severe that there were wholesale 
 desertions, and he was able to form a whole regiment 
 of fugitives, who were chiefly Germans. Many 
 French, Turks, and Spaniards for such was the 
 mongrel character of the Genoese host found their 
 way to him; and to the Moors he generously gave 
 the means of returning to their own country, dis-
 
 62 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AX HOUR. 
 
 missing them with the rather theatrical condition, 
 that they should release an equal number of Chris- 
 tians. He re-established trade, opened salt-works 
 and factories of firearms and fabrics, and actually 
 commissioned privateers to prey on the Genoese 
 commerce. This wonderful man really performed 
 prodigies. Knowing how precarious was his con- 
 dition, he was no less unwearied in striving to get 
 support from abroad ; and the most characteristic and 
 daring of his schemes was his making an attempt to 
 get the imperial court to receive an ambassador from 
 him. It was ill-naturedly given out that he had 
 descended to use the influence of the wife of a 
 maitre d'hdtel to the Grand Duchess to carry on the 
 intrigue ; but it is more probable that he would have 
 used his old Wiirtemberg influence. A more prac- 
 ticable scheme was a negotiation for the use of a 
 large band of Albanian mercenaries under Count 
 Carafa, who were to arrive in the island ; but ob- 
 stacles came in the way, and he presently found that 
 the Grand- Seignior was so engaged with the prospects 
 of a Russian war, that it would be impossible for him 
 to think of " the conquest of Italy." 
 
 But worse was to come ; for presently news 
 reached him that Carafa and his Albanians had hired 
 themselves out to a more profitable employer, the 
 King of the two Sicilies. This news could not be 
 long concealed. Already the fickle islanders were
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 63 
 
 beginning to murmur, and to ask why the suc- 
 cour that was on its way from the foreign king, 
 emperor, or sultan, did not appear. It required 
 all his shifts to keep them quiet. They seized on 
 some acts of very necessary severity as grounds for 
 dissatisfaction. The execution of Casacolli was 
 talked of angrily and with flashing eyes. That 
 Colonel Arrighi, whom Theodore had made com- 
 mander of a district, had left a little fort in charge 
 of only twenty men the news of which came to 
 the ears of the Genoese, who attacked and, after a 
 desperate resistance, took it. He had fully five 
 hundred men whom he might have employed in 
 its defence. Theodore came hurrying up to punish ; 
 but the culprit fled to Reno, whither the king pur- 
 sued him, and was reported to have fired his house ; 
 and the mother and sister of the colonel are said 
 to have been burnt. It is unlikely that Theodore 
 would have wittingly committed such a blunder ; 
 but the story went abroad, distorted, exaggerated, 
 and the dissatisfaction swelled every day. The 
 "third party "were gathering, and actually defeated 
 the Genoese themselves. The king kept up his pre- 
 tence bravely and laboriously ; going up hills and 
 searching the horizon with his telescope, to see if 
 the coming fleet was in sight. Crowds of sham 
 couriers would arrive with sham packets. 
 
 But all this would not do. Fresh difficulties
 
 64 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 began to arise. Rumours were whispered about that 
 the intriguing Genoese had prevailed, now on the 
 French Court, now on the Spanish Court, to interfere. 
 To the clergy, too, Theodore had become odious : 
 first, on account of its being supposed that his reli- 
 gion was but an adventurer's religion ; and, secondly, 
 because of his toleration and encouragement of the 
 Turks and Jews. This was enough to taint his 
 character with the fervent islanders, who had placed 
 their cause under the tutelary aid of the Blessed 
 Virgin, whose image was on their coins, and who 
 prayed like Joshua before they rushed to battle. 
 There were stories, too, of frailties and complaints 
 from his subjects ; and on an injury of that kind, the 
 Corsican brother or husband takes down his double- 
 barrelled gun. " Theodore," says his son, " who 
 loved his subjects as much as if they had been his 
 own children, reprimanded them like a father." 
 
 But such treatment had little effect. A plot 
 formed against his life was discovered, and three of 
 the conspirators executed. This step filled up the 
 measure of his unpopularity. These men, too, were 
 related to some of the noble families. Something 
 
 o 
 
 like a mutinous feeling began to show itself; and 
 Theodore presently found that the only people on 
 whom he could rely were those whose future fortunes 
 were dependent on him, through office, or the hope 
 of still greater advancement. The party who called
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 65 
 
 themselves "the Indiflerents " was growing formid- 
 able ; and it was said that it had been joined by 
 Hyacinth Paoli, the father of Pasquale. He was a 
 brave warrior, and could write poetry after a battle. 
 Happily this rumour was not true. It actually came 
 to a battle between the rival parties, in which the 
 royalists were defeated. But he had a whole host in 
 Giafferi, who kept with him to the last. These were 
 alarming signs and tokens, and Theodore was too 
 shrewd to neglect them. 
 
 He took a bold step : summoned his parliament 
 to meet him, on the 2nd of September, at Casacoconi, 
 where a most curious scene took place. It was 
 infinitely creditable to the moderation of both parties. 
 He was strongly dissuaded from this dangerous step ; 
 as, if he had nothing new to tell the people, they 
 would be certain to wreak their resentment upon him, 
 they were so inflamed against him. All the pieves 
 sent their deputies, more, it was believed, from 
 curiosity than otherwise. " Theodore," says his son, 
 "came and placed himself in the midst of them with 
 that air of grandeur and boldness that makes vice 
 tremble, and causes a just terror to succeed a foolish 
 audacity." He made them an harangue, referring to 
 what he had done already, and retold the old story 
 of the mysterious and unknown powers, and of fleets 
 already upon the sea, But one/of the chiefs stood up, 
 and said that he had told them this very often, 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 that lie had given the same assurance again and again. 
 The matter was fairly and honourably discussed ; and 
 in the end his eloquence prevailed : it was agreed that 
 they should wait two months more, say to the end 
 of October. The Genoese version was, that after this 
 date he should abdicate if the succour did not arrive ; 
 a version proved false by the event. 
 
 Alas ! the little romance was already fading out, 
 having lasted some four months long enough for a 
 romance. The son gives a highly-coloured account, 
 and says the whole ended in repentance and renewed 
 loyalty. " Astonished at the confidence with which 
 he put himself into their hands, the Corsicans changed 
 their murmurs into protestations of attachment ; they 
 confessed their faults, calling him their benefactor, 
 their saviour, their king ; they promised to obey him 
 in everything he should command, and to shed for 
 him the very last drop of their blood." However, the 
 engagement was to last up to the fatal October. The 
 result showed his tact and boldness. With this 
 prospect before him, he was not in the least dispirited, 
 but set to work on fresh attempts. Again he took 
 the field, encountered various bands of the Genoese, 
 and routed them with his old success. In due time 
 moneys arrived, with which he fitted out galleys, and 
 pursued those of the Republic with equal success ; 
 then determined to make a bold coup, and try what a 
 theatrical stroke would do for him.
 
 THE STOKY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 67 
 
 He put himself at the head of fifty horsemen and 
 three hundred fantassins ; and bearing in mind that 
 the old loyal nobles and seigniors lived in the districts 
 on the other side of the mountains, he set off to 
 Sartena, down at the southerly end of the island. 
 There the Count Ornano, the Istrias, and other families 
 met him at the head of a band of gentlemen, and 
 received him in state. Theodore then proceeded to 
 play a little piece for them, which was sure to touch 
 their aristocratic sympathies. He proceeded solemnly 
 to establish an order of knighthood a step that had 
 indeed been provided for by an article in the Constitu- 
 tion. It was a politic scheme at that moment ; and 
 the dim and shadowy rumours of new-made knights, 
 and of costly robes, of the king himself giving away 
 these honours, would drift over the mountains, and 
 awe and attract the wavering. It is some testimony 
 to Theodore's instinct, that the pageantry of an 
 installation should have been recently used for the 
 same end. 
 
 This order was called " The Order of Deliverance," 
 and the edict was " given at our chamber in Sartena," 
 on the 16th September. He said it was intended to 
 "render respectable before Europe the nobility of this 
 country ; " and he promised to use his best influence to 
 obtain a solemn confirmation of the order from his 
 holiness the Pope. Meanwhile, he would declare the 
 privileges and honours, so that the members should be
 
 68 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 received with great distinction, not only in their own 
 country, but in all other countries ; " in spite," adds 
 the grand-master, "of the malice of the Genoese^ 
 who have evoked heaven and earth to make the people 
 here appear contemptible." The qualifications were 
 magnificent. Every knight was to be of noble birth, 
 and his family must have followed no trade for 
 two generations back. They were to be treated as 
 nobles of the highest degree, and to be styled " most 
 illustrious " and " excellence." They were to be ex- 
 empted from all taxes and contributions. Their house 
 was to be privileged against the officers of the law ; and 
 they were to have access to the palace at least to the 
 ante-chamber. They alone were to have all offices of 
 command. They were to accompany the king to battle, 
 and each was to maintain two soldiers. The business 
 view of the whole transaction was, that each knight 
 was to lend, in return for his patent, the sum of 2307. 
 sterling, for which he was to receive 10 per cent, 
 from the state. The theatrical side was a splendid 
 installation, by the king himself, with gorgeous dress. 
 They were to wear a rich sky-blue mantle resembling 
 in this the Knights of St. Patrick with a cross and 
 star of fourteen points. The star was to show on one 
 side a naked figure of Justice, carrying in one hand a 
 sword ; in the other, a balance, in one scale of which 
 was a drop of blood, and in the other a leaden ball ; 
 underneath the balance was a triangle, containing the
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 69 
 
 letter T, which seems to have a masonic air ; on the 
 other side of the star were Theodore's own royal arms 
 a Moor's head and a broken chain an allusion to 
 his escape from the Algerines. Everything about 
 these decorations was minutely laid down ; and an 
 alternative was naively but wisely permitted as to 
 the material ; for the statutes mentioned " gold, or 
 yellow-coloured;" "silver, or white-coloured." In 
 petite tenue they were to wear the ribbon and cross ; 
 the "grand prior and grand commander " a great double 
 ribbon. All religions were eligible ; and they were to 
 repeat every day a little office of two psalms : " In te, 
 Domine, speravi," and " Deus noster refugium et 
 virtus." Theodore, recalling one of the most striking 
 ceremonies at St. Peter's during holy week, required 
 the knights to stand round the altar and draw their 
 swords during the reading of the Gospel. The knight 
 was placed on his knees before the king, who received 
 him, and thus spoke to him : "I dub you knight of 
 the most noble Order of Deliverance. From us alone 
 must you bear to be touched three times with this 
 naked sword, and to us shall you be obedient in all 
 things, even unto death." Then he touched his 
 shoulders with the sword, the new-made knight rose 
 up, swore " faith and lealty " upon the Gospels, and 
 the knights present received and embraced him as 
 their brother. 
 
 Poor Theodore ! One more bright day for him :
 
 70 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 a grand ritual, when he was still playing at being 
 king. Only two or three weeks were now left. Yet, 
 again, it was something to look back to ; for the 
 nobles and gentlemen of that southern district 
 crowded to him, and were eager to be enrolled. He 
 made counts and barons of many of them at their 
 own request, and the Order actually enrolled some 
 four hundred knights. About a hundred of these 
 were said to be foreigners, who, from sympathy, or 
 from curiosity and the "fun of the thing," as the 
 malignant Genoese gave out, were eager to join. He 
 thus showed himself a skilful and worthy adventurer ; 
 for the coup succeeded, and this stroke attracted 
 others. 
 
 A short time passed over in idle expectancy, 
 during which time it was rumoured on the Continent 
 that his brother-in-law, the Count TreVoux, had 
 come from France with stores and some 30,000 louis 
 d'or. This, if true, could not have helped him much. 
 But he was beginning to hear the murmurs once 
 more ; and he now prepared for the last act. It was 
 as skilfully arranged as the first 
 
 He assembled the estates once more at Sartena on 
 the 14th of November. All the deputies assembled. 
 He entered the hall, seated himself on the throne, 
 then rose and addressed them. 
 
 He then exhorted them " to remain faithful and 
 loyal to their sovereign, and no longer to disgrace
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 71 
 
 themselves by seditions ; as, in that case, he would 
 forsake them for ever, and cease to recognise them 
 as his subjects." He added, "that in accepting the 
 crown he entertained no other ambition than that 
 of enfranchising them, at the expense of his repose, 
 and even of his life, from the tyranny of the Genoese, 
 under which they had so long groaned ; and it was 
 painful for him to remark, that they themselves 
 formed the chief obstacle to the completion of his 
 wishes. Eoyalty, considered by itself, had no charms 
 in his eyes ; he was ready to resume his former rank 
 without regret ; and, although his finances were ex- 
 hausted, he still possessed an intrepid mind, that 
 could scorn the rigours of poverty, and glory in 
 resembling the Fabricii of antiquity, who considered 
 honour and virtue as their sole treasure." 
 
 This short oration, added to the misfortunes of 
 their prince misfortunes which they now accused 
 themselves of having created, or at least augmented 
 produced a sudden effect on the assembly, the mem- 
 bers of which instantly arose, as if by unanimous 
 consent, offered to renew the oath of fidelity, and 
 promised to spill the last drop of their blood in his 
 defence. 
 
 He added that he thought it not fair to keep 
 them any longer in a state of suspense, and that their 
 fidelity and confidence were entitled to special exer- 
 tion and recognition on his side ; and that therefore
 
 72 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 he had come to the resolution of going himself in 
 person to see after the assistance which had been 
 promised to him, and which was so mysteriously 
 delayed. The honest people then told him that he 
 had still all their confidence and loyalty ; that they 
 believed in him ; and that they did not wish him to 
 leave them ; but that he could act as he pleased. 
 He then selected a number of his leading followers, 
 who were to be governors of districts, appointing 
 the Marquis Hyacinth de Paoli and the Marquis 
 don Louis Giafferi to be administrators of the 
 kingdom. 
 
 The roll of these nobles reads gallantly enough 
 the Marquis Hyacinth de Paoli and the Marquis Don 
 Louis Giafferi, who were termed marshals-general of 
 the kingdom ; the Marquis Lucas Ornano, the Count 
 John Felix Ponzoni, the Count Durazzi, the Chevalier 
 Antonio Suzini d'Aulle, the Count Mari, the Chevalier 
 Fernandi, the Count Puillicio, the Count Casabianca, 
 Colonel Sampieri, the Chevalier Leravalle, the Count 
 Sucini, the Marquis Matra, &c. &c. 
 
 Ornano, Sampieri (one of the gallant Casabiancas), 
 with a crowd of counts, generals, and "sieurs," he 
 made governors of districts ; and then, on the same 
 day, issued a farewell proclamation to his subjects, 
 " from Theodore I., King of Corsica," for the proper 
 government of his kingdom during his absence. 
 " Having resolved," he said, " to cross over to the
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 73 
 
 Continent, fearing that we have been deceived by 
 those who were entrusted with the negotiations ; 
 seeing, moreover, the months roll by without any 
 sign of the succour that has been promised to us ; 
 and being at a loss to know what can be the cause 
 of the delay, we have thought it only our duty to 
 comfort our people before our departure by explaining 
 to them the real reason of this expedition, and by 
 appointing faithful commanders to all the sure posts 
 of the kingdom, so that all the supplies and munitions 
 of war we shall send over shall be duly received and 
 taken care of. We enjoin everyone to assist them 
 and obey them, under pain of our royal displeasure ; 
 and at our return we shall show our royal favour and 
 goodwill to those who have so behaved, and punish 
 severely all who disobey them." 
 
 Before his departure he had also issued the following 
 edict : 
 
 "November 1st, 1737. 
 
 " THEODORE, by the Grace of God, King of 
 Corsica, etc. 
 
 "Whereas our enemies, the Genoese, have repre- 
 sented us as a usurper, intruder, and disturber of 
 the Island of Corsica ; and whereas many evil- 
 disposed persons in the said island, moved by private 
 and personal interests, have endeavoured to lessen 
 the glory of our administration, and to bring our 
 government into contempt : Be it known, therefore,
 
 74 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 unto all Christian people, that Theodore de Neuhoff 
 never interfered with the affairs of Corsica till, by 
 the breach of the treaty with the inhabitants of 
 that island, under the guarantee of his Imperial 
 Majesty, the Kepublic had deprived itself of all 
 just title to this kingdom : 
 
 " Theodore de Neuhoff, at their earnest request, 
 and in a special capitulation for the saving of their 
 just rights and liberties, has taken possession, and 
 has compelled the Genoese, not only to abandon 
 the whole country, but to surrender some of the 
 fortresses, so that they possess nothing now save 
 Bastia and six other fortified places." 
 
 After enumerating the advantages his coming had 
 brought to the natives, he goes on : 
 
 "As they were restored to the free use of the 
 soil, so they are encouraged to cultivate it by en- 
 joying its produce without domination ; for whereas 
 the Genoese would not suffer them to dispose either 
 of grain or fruit to any other than their own com- 
 munity, who seldom gave them half as much as it 
 was worth, they are now at liberty to sell where 
 they can. The rivers, lakes, and sea-coasts are farmed 
 out by the Republic to the Catalonians, while the 
 poor Corsicans were deprived of nets, boats, and 
 salt. 
 
 " In consequence of these changes they are repair-
 
 THE STOEY OF THEODOKE OF CORSICA. 75 
 
 ing all their villages near the sea-coasts, which the 
 Genoese forced them to abandon and demolish, to 
 prevent them having any intercourse with foreigners. 
 This permission of building, planting, and vending 
 the profit of their labours has already produced 
 artisans in Corsica. It is now no strange thing to 
 see tables and joint-stools made there ; nay, some 
 have had the ingenuity to frame bedsteads ; whereas, 
 under the government of the Republic, a Corsican 
 scarce knew the intent of a saw, and they were forced 
 to make use of earthen pots to keep their wine in, for 
 want of coopers to make casks. 
 
 " Proper encouragement is now given for dis- 
 covering and working the iron, copper, and silver 
 mines, and of which the Genoese forbade the in- 
 habitants so much as to speak, at the same time 
 that they deprived them of the finest salt in the 
 world." 
 
 He then mentions as a proof of their prosperity 
 that the very foreigners have preferred his service to 
 that of the Genoese ; and " His Majesty has a regiment 
 of Life Guards, composed of eight hundred German 
 deserters, well armed, clothed, and disciplined." 
 
 He had also proclaimed liberty of conscience, with 
 many other emoluments, and had thus drawn over 
 a multitude of Greeks and Jews, and allowed each 
 nation to build a town in which they are actively 
 employed ; and above eight hundred foreign Pro-
 
 76 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUE. 
 
 testants are likewise settled in Corsica, where they 
 are setting up several advantageous manufactures. 
 
 The king had also made it his principal care, not 
 only to draw thither large quantities of foreign coins, 
 but has also, since his accession, taken care, for the 
 honour of his government and the encouragement of 
 his subjects, to coin about 500,000 crowns. 
 
 In conclusion he says : 
 
 " Let, then, the candid and the ingenuous, whether 
 natives or strangers, reflect on the past and present 
 situation of this island and its inhabitants, and to 
 them let it be left to determine which has the best 
 title to the government of both the Kepublic of 
 Genoa or Theodore de Neuhoff. 
 
 "THEODORE. 
 
 " Done at Corte, November 1st." 
 
 The day for his departure arrived. He travelled 
 across to the north, to the little port of Aleria, where 
 he had landed on that morning some eight months 
 before. Immense crowds attended him down to the 
 beach ; all the nobles clustered round, and remained 
 with him to the last. The people, by a mournful 
 silence, showed how they were affected ; even those 
 who had been opposed to him could hardly restrain 
 their tears. He then gave them his last injunctions, 
 conjuring them to be united and recollect his in- 
 structions. There was a certain wisdom in this
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 77 
 
 departure. Had lie been of the common pattern of 
 adventurer, lie would have stayed on, contriving all 
 sorts of mean shifts and pretences, until his prestige 
 had utterly gone, and he had been ejected with con- 
 tempt and humiliation, never to rise again. Theodore 
 went away as he came, with a very promising future 
 to discount. 
 
 It was a French vessel, and carried the French 
 flag. With him he took a small suite his faithful 
 chancellor Costa, a secretary and chamberlain, and 
 two young Leghorn esquires. He also brought some 
 thirty Genoese prisoners. Almost as soon as they got 
 out to sea, a Genoese galley was seen in pursuit, and, 
 it was said, with Eivarola himself on board, who 
 would have boarded the little craft but for the earnest 
 remonstrances of a Spanish officer, who pointed out 
 the danger of insulting the French flag. Thus he 
 was to have the luck of another Corsican adventurer 
 upon the high seas. 
 
 The next day the little bark reached Leghorn, and 
 a simple abbe", with some other passengers, came 
 ashore. The Genoese prisoners he " made a present 
 of " to an officer in one of the King of Naples' regi- 
 ments, and his own immediate retainers entered the 
 same service. No doubt this gift was meant to pro- 
 pitiate that monarch. Not until he had taken post 
 for north Italy with his faithful chancellor, and Costa's 
 son, and his secretary, a son of Ceccaldi, was it known
 
 78 KINGS AXD QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 that the abbd was the King of Corsica. Immediately 
 the French captain was thrown into prison by his 
 own consul for violating the neutrality laws ; but, 
 added the accounts naively enough, he did not pistol 
 himself as the English sailor had done. He was, in 
 fact, released after some explanations. 
 
 The gazettes and chronicles were now wild in 
 their speculations ; they all had the news. It was 
 reported by one from Leghorn, that "a French vessel 
 had put in here, having on board the Lord Theo- 
 dore and his prime minister. They went ashore, 
 and immediately took post-horses, it is believed, for 
 Bologna." He remained just one night with an old 
 friend, the captain of the port, and was away in the 
 morning. Where had he gone to ? This was indeed 
 but the beginning of much " posting " from court to 
 court ; for he dared not let the grass grow under his 
 feet. The gendarmes would have it that his journey 
 to Rome then a perfect Hotel de 1'Europe for all in- 
 triguers who swarmed thither was for the purpose 
 of arranging a bargain with the Pretender. Then he 
 was away to Pisa, Ravenna, and, above all, tried hard 
 to get to Naples, but could not succeed ; next he 
 found his way to Constantinople, to try to get aid 
 from the Grand- Seignior ; but the latter was too much 
 taken up with other quarrels. These were the stories ; 
 and there can be no doubt that he thus went round to 
 all the potentates, striving not unskilfully to discount
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 79 
 
 his crown, as it were. He was in a good position to 
 -do so ; for he could tempt the ambitious with this 
 fair prospect that he was in possession ; that his 
 subjects were well-disposed ; that he was willing, in 
 return for substantial aid, to hold the island as deputy, 
 and in the interests of those who so assisted him. 
 It was a pity indeed to let so reasonable and pro- 
 mising a chance pass away ; and it is surprising 
 that no adventurous power was willing to take up 
 Theodore's security. The truth was, it was too jealous 
 a business for the great powers ; and it was too 
 dangerous for the smaller ones, who were warned by 
 a menacing growl from the grander kennels. The 
 pursuit of this will-o'-the-wisp hope led him a weary 
 dance for several years all over Europe. 
 
 Now the hopes of the Genoese might well revive. 
 Their jubilation, however, was to take the usual 
 undignified shape. No sooner had their galley re- 
 turned from its unsuccessful pursuit, than the spies 
 at Leghorn and other places were sent to collect 
 the usual chiffbnnier's bushelful of gossip ; and the 
 Republic presently sent out one of its gossiping 
 proclamations. It was a tissue of falsehoods. It 
 set forth, in a sort of preamble, that the baron, 
 finding that he was becoming odious to his subjects, 
 had determined to make his escape ; that he had to 
 do so suddenly in the night, taking Costa and two 
 under-secretaries, named Fozzari and Losr2fi, with 
 
 ' OO '
 
 80 KINGS ASD QUEEtfo OF AN HOUR. 
 
 him ; also his valet-de-chambre Agata, a Florentine, 
 together with two pages, " whom an esprit de liber - 
 tinage had forced to run away from their father's 
 house." This affected accuracy shows the policeman's 
 hand. " With this worthy company" goes on the 
 manifesto, " he contrived to get across the mountains 
 to Aleria," where he found a French vessel ready to 
 sail, commanded by Captain De'luge'e, of St. Tarpe, 
 who was just weighing anchor for Leghorn, with a 
 number of Spanish deserters, whom some officers of 
 that nation had come over to reclaim. It must be 
 confessed that this is a more probable explanation 
 than Theodore encumbering himself with a number 
 of soldiers to offer as a present to the King of the 
 Sicilies. This captain made difficulties at first ; but 
 "was persuaded by the entreaties of Theodore, and 
 the curiosity which the Sieur De'luge'e had to know 
 more intimately the author of so notorious an 
 attempt." The passengers on board observed that 
 he was dressed as an abbd, and noticed that he was 
 most uneasy and disturbed until the vessel put to sea. 
 The reason, they said, he escaped in the galley, was 
 the presence of these Spanish soldiers, which the 
 Genoese captain wished to respect. " They then 
 tracked him to a house in the port of Leghorn, and 
 saw him into a chaise the next morning. He had 
 
 o 
 
 with him three chests filled with dresses and papers ;" 
 a fact, we may suppose, they ascertained from the
 
 THE STOKY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 81 
 
 customs. It was also ascertained at Bastia, "that a 
 few days before his departure he had secretly sold all 
 his plate to raise a little money." The nation that 
 could issue such tittle-tattle as a solemn state paper 
 richly deserved Theodore's taunt as being a nation of 
 hucksters and traders. 
 
 But the faithful Corsicans did not let this pass. 
 Within a week or two, on December 1st, they had 
 issued a reply warmly refuting these calumnies, and 
 defending the absent adventurer. They declared that 
 they were full of love and gratitude to their lord, 
 " King Theodore the First," who, from the moment 
 of his landing, had done nothing but labour for their 
 good. They denied solemnly the stories of his being 
 obliged to escape : that he left with the sole view 
 of promoting their interests, and that " they con- 
 tinued bound to him by the most tender affection 
 and the truest fidelity." To give a sure proof of 
 this, the leaders had all signed this declaration at 
 Corte ; and, as a farther proof, it should be signed 
 by every person in authority all over the kingdom, 
 in every department, town, or even village, by every 
 one on this side of or beyond the mountains. There 
 is something almost touching in this honest de- 
 claration of fidelity, which is infinitely creditable 
 to their hearts, and as rare as it is creditable ; for 
 with the multitude the absent " are always wrong," 
 and are soon forgotten or lost sight of. The with- 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 82 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 drawal of substantial assistance is the signal for 
 the crowd to turn its eyes away, and look out for 
 another idol : hope is usually too impalpable a food 
 to live on. 
 
 About ten days later the first-fruits of Theodore's 
 exertions were exhibited in the arrival from Leghorn 
 of his old friend and original sponsor, the Canon 
 Orticoni, who brought letters from him, and who 
 came sheltered under the title of almoner to his 
 majesty the King of the Two Sicilies. A Spanish 
 galiot brought with him a party of missionaries, 
 who spread themselves over the island, and suc- 
 ceeded in stirring up fresh enthusiasm. All the tribes 
 assembled once more at Corte, to hear the letters read. 
 " All received with satisfaction the commands of his 
 majesty." Then they renewed their oaths of alle- 
 giance, and confirmed once more to him and to his 
 descendants his title and throne. " To this end we 
 make known to all whom it may concern, that we 
 shall always observe an inviolable fidelity towards 
 the royal person of Theodore the First ; and that we 
 are resolved to live and die for him as his subjects, 
 and never to acknowledge another sovereign than him. 
 Once more we swear upon the holy Gospels in all 
 points to keep the oath of fidelity in the name of the 
 here-assembled people." This was all embodied in a 
 manifesto, and was duly registered " in the grand chan- 
 cery, and signed with the great seal of the kingdom,"
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF COESICA. 83 
 
 Thus stimulated, these faithful Corsicans pro- 
 ceeded to take the field once more, and advanced 
 with such spirit, that they quite drove Rivarola back, 
 and shut him up closely in Bastia. The garrison, 
 trying a sortie, only fell into an ambuscade, where 
 they suffered more miserably still. Rivarola now 
 ordered his advanced guards to inform the natives 
 that the Republic was willing to ratify a treaty with 
 them ; that Theodore was "a mere vagabond now in 
 gaol, from whom they could expect nothing." Upon 
 this the whole army assembled threw themselves into 
 a great circle, and, after keeping up for some* time a 
 deep silence, at last set up a general shout : " Long 
 live our prince ! Long live our parent ! Long live 
 Theodore I., King of Corsica ! " They then made a 
 general discharge, and, advancing close under the 
 walls, cried out : " We will have no king but 
 Theodore ! We will never return under the govern- 
 ment of the Genoese ! " The winter was very severe 
 the ground covered with snow and ice, and pro- 
 visions very scarce. Camping was therefore accom- 
 panied with sore privations, and the governors of the 
 Corsicans thought this a fair opportunity for striving 
 at some temporary accommodation. They made some 
 proposals, which were received indeed, but only on 
 the haughty condition of " the rebels " laying down 
 their arms. This was as scornfully rejected, and both 
 prepared for a new struggle. But the Corsicans were 
 
 G 2
 
 84 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AX HOUK. 
 
 to know presently the reason of this confidence on 
 the Genoese side. That Republic had determined on 
 one last and desperate effort. They borrowed from 
 the bank of St. George a sum of 500,000 crowns, 
 and concluded negotiations with one of the great 
 marts of Europe where fighting-men were to be hired 
 the congenial Swiss. They secured three regiments 
 and twelve Grison companies, and got together a per- 
 fect fleet of ships and galleys. Thus prepared, as a 
 preliminary coup they issued one of their characteristic 
 proclamations, scandalous almost in its terms. It is evi- 
 dent that they had found out that to deal with Theodore 
 required something more than contempt or ridicule. 
 They degraded him now, calling him simply " the said 
 Theodore," not acknowledging his baronship. The 
 proclamation was full of fury and spite. It set out 
 their "just indignation" against him, Costa, and 
 Fozzari, "our subjects," who by the most "execrable" 
 means have disturbed the whole country. " We 
 therefore fix and offer a reward of 2000 golden 
 
 o 
 
 genuines to anyone who will deliver up to us, or kill, 
 any of the above-named men. This sum will be paid 
 down by a tribunal of our state inquisition. We 
 promise never to divulge the name of anyone who 
 will have delivered up or killed any of the party." 
 
 This proclamation which, it will be observed, 
 was an invitation to anyone to pursue the unfor- 
 tunate king over Europe and murder him, with an
 
 THE STOKY OF THEODORE OF COESICA. 85 
 
 implied indemnity and certain reward, should he 
 escape to their territories was sure to have results ; 
 and the " sub-secretary," it was said, soon made an 
 attempt on his life. His son also tells us that an 
 attempt was made to poison him no less than three 
 times. We may accept this statement ; for Europe 
 was overrun with bravoes and schemers ready for 
 any attempt ; and the state which could issue such a 
 paper would not be slow to find direct agents to carry 
 out its wishes. Theodore, of course, heard of their 
 plans, and not unnaturally was said to have been a 
 little scared. At all events, he kept himself concealed 
 with great care, and for some months was quite lost 
 sight of. But a letter from him soon arrived in the 
 island, full of mysterious allusions. He knew all that 
 was going on, he wrote, far off as he was. He heard 
 the rumours of an attempt at accommodation ; but he 
 ivas sure they would not dream of that, with enemies 
 who had " carried their insolence so far as to treat our 
 faithful ministers as though they were common crimi- 
 nals, and to let their fury extend even to our royal 
 person." This last stroke is admirable. At the end he 
 reminded them of his promise to stand by them and 
 deliver them. From this skilful letter it was believed 
 that he was still on the Italian coast; but he had got 
 to Turin, where the Marquis d'Ormea discovered him, 
 and he had to leave. From Turin he reached Paris, 
 which he had to leave promptly, according to one
 
 86 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUK. 
 
 account, because assassins, hired by the Genoese, had 
 fired three shots at his carriage, which passed right 
 through without touching him. According to another 
 possibly his own he had interviews with Cardinal 
 Fleury and Count de Polignac ; according to a third, 
 and a not improbable one, he received orders to quit 
 the city in forty-eight hours. He gave out that he 
 was going down to Marseilles to embark, but secretly 
 went in the contrary direction, and took the road to 
 Normandy. He went on board at Rouen, and reached 
 the Hague a suitable neutral spot, and a good pied- 
 d-terre for intrigue where he remained about three 
 weeks. He stayed fifteen days with a Jew, Tellano ; 
 and then wrote to a Dutch friend, to hire a house for 
 him outside Amsterdam. This was done ; but when 
 he arrived, it was found that the owner of the villa 
 was absent with the key ; so he had to put up for the 
 night at a low inn outside the town called The Eed 
 Stag. While waiting, the news got wind. Perhaps 
 the owner of the house betrayed him. The police 
 came and arrested him for an old debt of 5000 florins. 
 There were great curiosity and excitement in the town 
 to see him ; for at Amsterdam and the Hague adven- 
 turers were respected. He would have discharged 
 this debt, and had a bill on a banker there for 30,000 
 florins, but who, on this, took the alarm, and said he 
 must hear from the drawer of the bill first. On the 
 news spreading, other creditors, even from England,
 
 THE STOKY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 87 
 
 poured in detainers. There were the old debts for 
 arms and supplies. But so skilful and seductive a 
 man was not to be thus checked. There were numbers 
 of the merchants and traders whom he spoke with, 
 and for whom he painted his great prospects with 
 such skill and colouring, that he persuaded them 
 to come forward and help, and be his security for 
 the rest. There was a curious scene when he was 
 summoned before the burgomaster and magistrates 
 at the great town-hall to complete this arrangement. 
 He declined to appear, unless with his sword and 
 cane privileges which were conceded. An immense 
 crowd gathered round the building, and filled up the 
 Kalver-straat while the stately Theodore pleaded his 
 cause within. He put everything with such art, that 
 he was allowed the security of friends being accepted 
 for part, and his own for the rest. The excitement 
 was so great, that he slipped away privately by the 
 back of the building. Then he disappears for a time. 
 The French or Genoese police discovered a good 
 deal about him and his connection, and the people 
 with whom he kept up a correspondence. At Rome 
 where his son, "the Prince of Caprera," was being 
 brought up by the Jesuits, and hearing lectures on 
 astronomy from Lobkowitz it was found he used the 
 address of a nun at St. Dominico's ; sometimes that 
 of a count living by the Porto del Popolo, and a 
 tourist whose house was near St. John Fiorentini.
 
 88 KIXGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUE. 
 
 It was found that these correspondents used great 
 arts in sending off their despatches, having peculiar 
 folds, and putting them into no less than four en- 
 velopes one directed Signor Yalentini ; the second 
 for a pretended Baron Stoss (or perhaps Stosch, 
 Walpole's commissionnaire) ; the third for the English 
 consul at Venice ; and the last, containing the letter 
 itself, for a Baron Stephen Komburg. Baron Romburg 
 was Theodore himself. In various parts of the world 
 he had secret allies and friends a Capuchin who 
 was busy with the philosopher's stone ; at Naples, 
 the Dutch consul, a princess, and an Irish officer ; at 
 Leghorn, the captain of the galleys. 
 
 All this is reliable ; for Taussin, " the apothecary- 
 major," received and used Theodore's intercepted 
 letters, and despatched them to head-quarters. The 
 Genoese obtained letters of his to a Parisian lady, 
 who lived at a grocer's near the Greve, in the Rue 
 de la Poterie; one was dated Nov. 2nd, 1737. He 
 complained of not having heard from her in reply to 
 his plans about the grand project, and bade her write 
 under cover to Baron Drost, " Grand Commander of 
 the Teutonic Order," at Cologne. He wished for news 
 about the rumoured occupation of the French, which 
 would only lead to blood, as " my people " would not 
 break their oath. " Give me news of my dear nephew, 
 and preserve yourself for your lover and king, Theo- 
 dore." He spoke of his creating some four hundred
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 89 
 
 new knights, whom he hoped to get over into the 
 island. He was writing to the Dey, and had received 
 60,000 florins from Amsterdam. There was of course 
 a good deal of vaunting here ; and from his pro- 
 testations of devotion it is not improbable that this 
 lady made part of the expedition which later set 
 out. The Genoese too were on the look-out for him ; 
 and a person was arrested at Savona who they thought 
 was he. 
 
 The tide of successes of the brave islanders began 
 to produce its effect. The Genoese party about 
 Bastia and Ajaccio, who exactly corresponded to the 
 " British party " in English colonies, began to waver. 
 The population at various seaports which were awk- 
 wardly exposed to summary treatment began openly to 
 join the safer, because the winning cause. Everything 
 was prospering. The Genoese were at their wits' end. 
 Their bands of assassins and enlarged galley-slaves 
 had not profited them. A little more, and they felt 
 their island would be lost to them. They again 
 thought of applying for foreign aid. The former 
 assistance of the Germans had been of a costly and 
 unsatisfactory sort. They now cast about for a more 
 powerful, and perhaps more unscrupulous, ally, and 
 their eyes rested on the court of France, where Fleury 
 the cardinal was reigning. The Marquis de Brignole 
 was despatched to negotiate this unworthy bargain. 
 Their proposals were listened to for many reasons.
 
 90 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 For a long time the French had been watching with 
 uneasiness and suspicion the strange little drama 
 going on in Corsica, and they were not inclined to 
 accept the story that Theodore was a puppet ; they 
 were, in fact, waiting to see the slightest symptom 
 of interference from Spain, or any other quarter. 
 But it may be suspected their real distrust was 
 of England, whose fleets were cruising about, and 
 who, for commercial purposes, was supposed to be 
 greedily seeking an entrep6t in the Mediterranean, 
 and thus destroy the flourishing trade of Marseilles 
 and Toulon. Application was accordingly made to 
 France, who listened eagerly. Soon the dockyards at 
 Toulon rang with preparations, and soon by the 
 beginning of 1738 a French fleet of transports was 
 getting ready to sail for Corsica. 
 
 This international jealousy might have much to 
 do with it, as it was well known that there were 
 many private patrons of the Corsicans in England, 
 who were assisting them with a support that went 
 beyond sympathy. It was said, too, that the Genoese 
 were making great efforts to dispose of the island ; 
 and as France could not have tolerated such a transfer, 
 she might have been constrained to compensate them 
 for this opposition to the plain but substantial aid. 
 On whatever grounds, the interference was monstrous 
 and unjustifiable. It almost seemed as though the 
 uprising of any country was a common danger for all
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 91 
 
 despots, who, like neighbours at a fire, hurried from 
 all sides to extinguish it. On the 12th of July the 
 treaty was signed, and for the rest of the year troops 
 and ships were being collected at Antibes. 
 
 News of this arrangement soon drifted over to 
 the island, and, though misty and uncertain, filled 
 the Corsicans with consternation. Indeed, the artful 
 Genoese had proclamations printed, which they scat- 
 tered over the island, announcing that the Emperor 
 of Germany and the King of France were going 
 to force them to submit. Consternation and doubt 
 reigned everywhere, until news came over of the hum 
 and note of military preparations at Antibes. 
 
 Nothing is more remarkable in this struggle than 
 the moderation and propriety of every act of those 
 who directed the unfortunate patriots. Paoli and 
 Giafferi drew up a humble and touching petition to 
 " the great king," in which was set out the whole case 
 of the Corsicans the old story of their oppression, 
 and the still older story of the protection and assist- 
 ance they had received from a whole series of kings 
 of France. They added that they only took arms to 
 preserve their property, honour, liberty, and life, no 
 one of which the Genoese would allow them to keep. 
 This was presented through Boerio, a native Corsican, 
 who represented the Spanish court at Venice. No 
 attention was paid to it, and the preparations went 
 on slowly. The Genoese, meanwhile, either alarmed
 
 92 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 at the delay, or shrinking from the enormous expense 
 of this new assistance compared with which the hire 
 of a few Swiss and German regiments seemed a trifle 
 began to think of accommodation ; or the new 
 commissary, Mari, who had replaced Rivarola, thought 
 he might turn his debut to some profit, and inau- 
 gurate his rule with a show of conciliation. They sent 
 proposals of submission and accommodation, offering 
 amnesty and indemnity, and the handsomest terms, and 
 inviting a deputation. Such splendid yet suspicious 
 offers made the Corsicans pause. One reason was said to 
 have prompted this unusual fit of indulgence : their 
 spies had reported that Theodore was on his way, 
 and that his indefatigable agent, the Canon Orticoni, 
 was at Nice, preparing to cross over. But very soon 
 they received their answer. 
 
 A messenger now arrived, bearing letters from the 
 king. These were from Amsterdam, where he still 
 
 o 
 
 was, and bore date the 21st of October. They were 
 full of spirit, hope, and encouragement. This won- 
 derful being told his " dear ministers and loved 
 subjects " that he heard of this report of the inter- 
 ference of the French king. He was confident that 
 this was a mere lying story, and could console himself 
 accordingly ; but should it turn out so, he conjured 
 them to consider carefully the course they should 
 take. He could hardly think they would dream of 
 tamely submitting to the old yoke ; but if they were
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 93 
 
 still inclined to maintain the struggle, lie would stand 
 by them, shed the last drop of his blood, and work 
 night and day in their interest, and send them succour. 
 This was no boasting ; for at that moment he was wear- 
 ing out the patience of the too speculative Amsterdam 
 merchants. Presently arrived some officers who had 
 seen Theodore, and they confirmed what he wrote. 
 He would be there presently, and had all but made 
 his arrangements. They hesitated, and not unna- 
 turally. Two days after Christmas, a great assembly 
 of all the tribes was gathered. These hopes aad 
 prospects were fairly canvassed, and it was gallantly 
 resolved to have faith in their coming, and reject the 
 recent advances. 
 
 The Genoese learned the rejection of the offer by 
 the shouts and acclamations in the camp the cries of 
 " Long live Theodore, our king ! " and the discharge 
 of muskets. They were infuriated. Threats and 
 menaces were exchanged ; and, one of their little 
 Corsican privateers being captured, Mari, the com- 
 missary-general, had the commander hanged on the 
 spot. This ferocity led to a savage and almost 
 dramatic reprisal ; for the Corsicans, accepting the 
 challenge, selected forty out of two hundred prisoners 
 in their possession, and hung them close under the 
 walls of Bastia, with a very legible inscription over 
 them, " to avenge the death of Columbani." Notice 
 was also given to the Genoese commissary that if
 
 94 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 he dared do the least violence to any of the sailors 
 in his power, each death should be paid for by the 
 sacrifice of fifteen Genoese lives. This wholesome 
 menace had a salutary effect upon Mari, who became 
 more temperate and merciful. 
 
 Inspired with a new enthusiasm, they rushed 
 under the very walls of Bastia, and, in spite of the 
 cannon and musketry, raised the same unwelcome 
 cry at the very ears of the besieged ; further assuring 
 them they would have no other king or ruler, and 
 that if he died, they would cling to his family. 
 Thus fortune seemed again to favour the persevering 
 Theodore, far away as he was. 
 
 It was now known for certain that the French 
 were to come ; nay, might be expected in a couple of 
 weeks. Many a tartan and felucca, fluttering from 
 one coast to the other, had reported how the trans- 
 ports were collecting at Antibes, and the soldiers 
 were gathering, and nearly ready to go on board. 
 Comte de Boissieux and the Marquis de Contades, 
 experienced generals, were to command. This was, 
 indeed, alarming ; but the islanders were not daunted ; 
 and though there was a small and prudent party who 
 thought it hopeless, with their raw levies, to oppose 
 the disciplined troops of the most Christian king, 
 they got ready for the struggle with an energy that 
 surpassed everything they had done before. The 
 whole country flew to arms. A levy of "a third"
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 95 
 
 had been asked ; but the enthusiasm was such, it 
 took the proportion of " a half." Every man came 
 with his eight days' provision ; they fell naturally 
 into cohorts and regiments ; and all these forces were 
 directed on Bastia, where it was expected the French 
 were about to land. There were about forty thousand 
 men under arms ; and as it was calculated the French 
 force would not exceed three or four thousand, their 
 hopes of immediate success were reasonable. But 
 some of the leaders knew well, that behind these 
 few regiments was the whole army of France, and 
 they encouraged this show of resistance in the hope 
 of obtaining better terms. 
 
 In some alarm at finding these menacing prepara- 
 tions going on, the gallant people drew up an appeal 
 to the public, in a very spirited strain. It ran : 
 
 " DECLARATION OP THE PEOPLE OF CORSICA. 
 
 "We confess, declare, and make known to the 
 whole world our will and positive intention that 
 by reason of the intolerable oppression which we 
 have suffered for a long while, under the tyranny of 
 the Genoese, we did some years ago choose Lord 
 Theodore, Baron de Neuhoff, king of the island of 
 Corsica ; that to him we now submit, and do intend 
 for ever hereafter to submit to his person whom 
 God preserve! as also to his descendants; and more- 
 over, that when we gave hostages and appointed
 
 96 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 certain deputies with full powers, we never had it in 
 our mind or thought to retract the inviolate election 
 of his said majesty, but only to demonstrate to all 
 the crowned heads, particularly the King of France, 
 the oppressions which we have suffered from the 
 Genoese, and the validity of the election of our King 
 Theodore ; the most Christian king not having per- 
 haps been informed of the misery of the people of 
 Corsica ; and to this end, that the said monarch, if 
 he ever formed a design to seduce the kingdom of 
 Corsica under the Genoese tyranny, might know that 
 all the inhabitants had rather, with a salvo to their 
 religion, deliver themselves into the hands of the 
 Turks than the Genoese ; the massacre of seven 
 hundred of the principal Corsicans, which happened 
 three years after the zealous resentment of Sampieso 
 the Corsican, and this, too, after having obtained a 
 guarantee of France, being still in their memory. For 
 this reason we declare that the hostages and deputies 
 have made an ill use of their commissions, contrary to 
 their former election and submission, and that, by 
 this solemn act, the nation does now and for ever 
 confirm the election of the said Baron de Neuhoff, for 
 King of Corsica, on the Isle of Caprera, with the 
 annexes and dependencies, and that we do cheer- 
 fully and unanimously declare the said baron to 
 be our lawful king and sovereign, and, in conse- 
 quence, submit our persons, lives, and fortunes
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 97 
 
 to the disposal of our King Theodore, whom God 
 preserve ! 
 
 " Done in the Great Square of " Ratified, in the name of all 
 the Convent of Tavegna, the people, by us, who 
 
 where we were all as- are appointed generals and 
 
 sembled, Friday, January commanders, 
 
 1 6th, in the year of grace " HIACINTHO DE PAOLI. 
 
 1 739, " DASHEWIS GIAFFERI." 
 
 There was a busy scene at the little port of Antibes. 
 The Nivernois, Auvergne, Sarre, Bassigni, and Du Roi 
 regiments were huddled into the small town. The 
 weather became violent, and they were kept some 
 weeks before they could embark. The officers had no 
 amusement but in waiting on their general or in 
 dining together. Presently the Flora, a frigate that 
 was to convey them, came round from Toulon. On 
 the twenty-fifth they were all on board ; but the winds 
 were so unfavourable, that it was impossible to get 
 out for a week more. Such was the embarking of 
 an expedition in those remote days ; and it offers a 
 curious contrast to the vigour and promptitude of 
 recent French expeditions, yet the object of which it 
 so curiously resembled. But French thoughtfulness 
 and management in points which they could control 
 have always been the same ; and the details seem to 
 have been excellently planned. There were separate 
 vessels for the oxen, there were chaplains and surgeons 
 and workmen, and a staff of "post-office officials." 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 96 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 An "apothecary-major" of the army has told the 
 whole story very graphically. For the first two or 
 three days the sea was calm ; then a dreadful storm 
 arose, in which they were tossed about. The trans- 
 port, like the true pattern of transport, was old and 
 leaky ; and it was not until the morning of the 6th 
 of February that they began to make out the Corsican 
 coasts, and were puzzled by the strange Genoese 
 towers which dotted the shore. As the wind went 
 down, and they coasted along, they noticed from the 
 deck the lines of little villages all deserted, and 
 charming country houses exquisitely situated. At 
 eight o'clock on the morning of the 7th they were 
 drifting on to the coast, and by evening were crowd- 
 ing into the narrow little port of Bastia. The 
 supplies and materiel were disembarked here ; but 
 the commander and the soldiers had landed at San 
 Fiorenzo, a little port on the west. Already the news 
 was fluttering over the island, on the mainland, at 
 Leghorn, and the intrigues were beginning. Salvini, 
 a patriot priest at Leghorn, offered, under secrecy, to 
 the French consul there, his services and influence 
 with Orticoni, to bring over the Corsicans to sub- 
 mission ; offers which were forwarded to the French 
 general. To Orticoni he wrote also, and the letter 
 was forwarded by the consul, and was put into the 
 French commander's hands almost the very day of 
 his arrival.
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 99 
 
 The canon's answer was most touching. He could 
 hardly read that letter, he said, without weeping ; the 
 dreadful news that they were to be forced once more 
 under the Genoese yoke had spread despair and con- 
 sternation the greater because they had been led 
 to hope that France was about to take them to her- 
 self, and make them her subjects, as they had been 
 centuries before. He had read Salvini's news to 
 Paoli and Giafferi, and to a few more ; but they had 
 thought it better to keep this fatal news a secret. 
 :e In fact," said the canon, " the people think that 
 the arrival of the French is to be the signal for our 
 liberties ; and they can scarcely contain the joy and 
 the confidence they have in the French." He engaged 
 to do all that he possibly could to bring round the 
 assembly to everything that the French king could 
 wish. "I will do this, and," he added, "not so much 
 for the reason that we have nothing now to expect 
 from King Theodore in whom, as far as I was con- 
 cerned, I never had any confidence as for the vene- 
 ration we have always entertained for the adorable 
 and sacred name of the King of France." They had, 
 besides, not strength enough to resist his power. As 
 for the suggestion, that all the leaders should quit 
 their country and retire to a foreign land, it was a 
 suggestion of the wicked Genoese, for whose advan- 
 tage it would be to have the people defenceless and 
 deserted by their chiefs. He then proposed that 
 
 H 2
 
 100 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 they should put up their prayers at the foot of the 
 altar, and pray for divine guidance. 
 
 Hyacinth Paoli was on his road to the assembly, 
 when news of the French landing reached him. He 
 wrote at once to the French consul at Bastia in the 
 most humble strain, affecting also a warm love of the 
 French nation, and saying that every man in the 
 assembly was inclined towards them, and was certain 
 that they had only come to deliver them. But he 
 was much disquieted ; he begged humbly that the 
 commander would restrain his soldiers from any 
 excesses, and would receive a deputation, and let them 
 know what ware the intentions of his majesty. 
 
 This Salvini appears to have been playing a 
 double game. He had engaged himself to the French ; 
 yet as his means of support depended on such scanty 
 allowances as came to him from the island " the 
 shipping of some oil" from a little pied-d-terre 
 he had to move cautiously. The popular voice was 
 against the French. His letters were always being 
 intercepted ; once they fell into the hands of Rivarola, 
 who had put the worst construction on them, and 
 whose base motive he knew : jealousy lest Orticoni 
 should have all the credit of the arrangement. A 
 worse misfortune was, other letters being stopped by 
 the French, in which the general read some uncom- 
 plimentary things of his nation. The excuses Salvini 
 wrote were almost grovelling. He deprecated the
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 101 
 
 wrath of his excellency his sole aim was the 
 advantage of France and seems to have succeeded 
 in dissipating these suspicions. This restless man 
 was always in communication with his countrymen, 
 still cautioning them against Bivarola, " who calum- 
 niates me everywhere he can, inventing the most 
 monstrous impostures." Then he had to invent a 
 cipher to guard against his letters being read ; in 
 short, the arrival of the French seemed to give notice 
 of a beginning of the end ; and many of the "patriots" 
 were eager to be the first to make terms. 
 
 Bastia meanwhile exhibited a new and busy scene 
 its little harbour crowded with vessels, the mole 
 covered with figures, and the French troops scattered 
 through the narrow streets of the town, where they 
 were billeted about. The general was made welcome 
 by Mari at the chateau, who asked him to dine ; but 
 the officers had to submit to inconveniences. Food 
 was scarce and dear ; the townspeople were hostile. 
 When a ball was given, the Corsicans stayed away, 
 and only a few wives of the Genoese officials appeared. 
 Everyone seemed to be ennuye. The great convent 
 of the Lazarists, noble and spacious, looking down on 
 the sea, was given up to a battalion. The soldiers 
 and officers found it very dull indeed ; they were 
 disgusted with everything. There were no squares, 
 as in France. The pave was rough even to French- 
 men's feet. They saw some things, too, that surprised
 
 102 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 them the heads of the unfortunate rebels stuck on 
 the wall, and an extraordinary picture at the gate, re- 
 presenting the execution of a rebel whom they had tried 
 to hang, and whom they cut into pieces over a fire. 
 They were amused at some very bizarre things the 
 ugly men ; the women, who would not receive their 
 addresses ; the singular custom of gathering round the 
 body of a deceased friend, and asking it, " Why did 
 you die ? " Some of the young drummer-boys of this 
 date might long after have found themselves veterans 
 landing in the Irish bay of Killala, on another hostile 
 expedition, and have heard with wonder the wild 
 natives keening over their dead, and putting exactly 
 the same question. In a short time hatred and 
 contempt mingled with ennui. They deemed the 
 natives about them as half savages. By-aud-by, a 
 company of tenth -rate French comedians arrived, and 
 a little theatre was opened, the officers subscribing 
 for the season, and the men being admitted free. 
 The whole, indeed, might be read as happening a few 
 years ago in Algiers or Mexico ; for French routine 
 and manners seem to be always the same. 
 
 The French looked out wistfully across the cobalt 
 Mediterranean. Now a great Genoese galley, carry- 
 ing cannon, and worked by slaves and criminals, 
 would come sweeping into the harbour, salute the 
 fort with four guns, and be saluted with two. This 
 boat brought pay for the Genoese soldiers. The
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 103 
 
 criminals were bound to their oars, but the slaves 
 were allowed to go on shore under guard ; and the 
 French saw with wonder these unhappy Turks and 
 Algerines walking about, and offering their trifling 
 wares handkerchiefs, etc. for sale. 
 
 The French general was a man of singular tact 
 and firmness, and almost from the first day of his 
 arrival had those useful qualities put to constant 
 test. The Marquis Mari the Genoese commissary, a 
 man of address and good birth, but wedded to the old 
 "ascendency" at once began to press for severe 
 measures. He, indeed, imagined, and not unnatu- 
 rally, that the assistance which they had secured on 
 such costly terms was to be bestowed in carrying out 
 their policy, and that the French were to act as their 
 deputies. Almost at their first interview the general 
 undeceived him. He was courteous, but immovable. 
 He had come as the friend of both parties, not to 
 make war, but to bring about an accommodation. 
 " Nothing," said the soldier to his friends, " could be 
 more affable or noble than the bearing of the marquis. 
 I am sure his sentiments are quite in harmony with, 
 but certainly those of the Eepublic are quite opposed 
 to, the object of our expedition." When asked how 
 they ought to make a commencement, Mari eagerly 
 proposed that they should make a raid, and carry off 
 some of their cattle and crops, and that this would 
 strike terror ; that then a proclamation should be
 
 104 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 issued, ordering them to submit, surrender their 
 chiefs, and give up their arms. He protested loudly 
 against recognising the chiefs, or receiving any depu- 
 tation, which would only be an encouragement. The 
 discussion was warm ; the general wrote home for 
 instructions. Immediately, he was " served," in legal 
 phrase, with a solemn protest against receiving these 
 rebel leaders. Every step of this business does, 
 indeed, suggest the blind and dull principles of the 
 "ascendency" party, who seem to behave much the 
 same in all countries. 
 
 Meanwhile, there were not wanting signs and 
 tokens to encourage the natives. From various 
 intercepted letters which were being secretly passed 
 backwards and forwards, we can see what a network of 
 intrigue was spread over the island. These all alluded to 
 mysterious vessels seen off Naples or on the coast, to 
 secret agents, of whose faith suspicion was enter- 
 tained, but for whose honour the letter-writer could 
 answer ; and they showed the petty jealousies and 
 rivalries of the Corsican leaders. The refugees or 
 agents at Leghorn could pursue the safe role of 
 exciting doubts and jealousies among their country- 
 men, hinting that Rivarola was engaged in the 
 unworthy task of seducing over Corsicans, to sell 
 them as troops to the King of Spain. 
 
 As Theodore's cause now seemed hopeless, these 
 spies were loud in disparaging all that concerned
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 105 
 
 him. Should the mysterious vessels ever appear, he 
 had nothing to do with them. It was simply a 
 freight of stores and merchandise which some specu- 
 lative Dutch merchants had been induced by Theo- 
 dore to consign to Leghorn, whence it had been 
 reshipped by another agent, Bon Giorno, was to 
 touch at Corsica, and be exchanged for oils, leather, 
 and pther products of the island. This was the 
 artful view of the agents, who may have been gained 
 over by the French or Genoese consuls at Leghorn ; 
 but the arrival of the ships themselves on the 5th 
 of February, only a day or two before the French, 
 was a dramatic refutation ; and the ships cast anchor 
 at Aleria, with Captain Sinabaldi, Theodore's brother- 
 in-law, and young Costa on board. There were also 
 some experienced officers of various nations, with 100 
 barrels of powder, arms, lead, and 500 pairs of shoes. 
 They brought news of Theodore, whom they had left 
 in Germany making preparations, and who was to 
 arrive himself very soon. This assistance was indeed 
 opportune ; and though the crowd did not perceive 
 the commercial nature of the arrangement, and that 
 oil and other products were being taken in, a grand 
 Te Deum was chanted, and hopes in the absent king 
 revived. Nothing, indeed, could have been more 
 skilfully arranged than these attempts to keep up 
 and titillate, as it were, the flagging loyalty of 
 popular favour ; for, a few days later, came Colonna,
 
 106 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOl'i;. 
 
 a famous name in the island, known to be deep in 
 Theodore's confidence, and a skilful captain. Another 
 week, and no less than fourteen German officers, who 
 had seen service, made their appearance from Leghorn 
 in a small vessel, with some stores and munitions of 
 war. They, too, brought news of Theodore, who 
 was soon to be on his road. These strangers were 
 received with delight ; such instalments conveyed 
 the idea of power and of something doing. They 
 were of course no more than adventurers or soldiers 
 of fortune looking for employment. One of them, 
 Captain Drevitz, an officer of some reputation, placed 
 at the head of a small band, very soon justified his 
 good name by a brilliant little affair at Isola Rossa, 
 which was taken by assault. The commander of the 
 fort was recognised as a traitor and deserter, and 
 was believed to have attempted Theodore's life. He 
 was punished with barbarity his tongue cut out, 
 his hand chopped off Colonna^ sternly telling the 
 other prisoners, who were required to look on, that 
 it was because he was a traitor that he was thus. 
 dealt with. But this was not all. A Genoese brig, 
 laden with stores, and driven by the storm into Porto 
 Vecchio, was immediately attacked, and the crew 
 overpowered. She was speedily refitted, manned, 
 and turned into a privateer. 
 
 By the middle of March the people had solemnly 
 selected three deputies Dr. Giafferi, Orticoni, and
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 107 
 
 Cugiuni, another priest to whom was to be entrusted 
 the delicate office of treating with the French general, 
 and of being detained in an honourable captivity 
 in his camp. Giafferi was away at Corte when he 
 heard of the duty intended for him ; but he set off 
 at once, though the road was fraught with peril, 
 and the people of that district not well affected to 
 him. His letter is very simple and touching. He 
 said he knew he ran the risk of assassination, that 
 even already God had permitted him to be exposed 
 to the risk of falling into no less than two ambus- 
 cades directed against his life. " Still I shall go. 
 All my regret would be to die without glory or 
 profit, or rather with the reputation of having been 
 a traitor to one's country, to whose vengeance I had 
 nearly fallen a victim. Reports, too, reach me of an 
 intention to burn my house." This simple patriot had 
 another little anxiety : he wished to lay aside his free 
 and picturesque mountain dress, and have a suit of 
 the regular French pattern made, in which to present 
 himself, which had to be ordered for him in Bastia, 
 the only convenient place in the island where such 
 things could be made. This, with some other matters, 
 prevented them setting out, and they had to apologise 
 humbly to the haughty French. Heavy rains, which 
 came down for days, detained them still more, so that 
 it was not until the last week in March that they 
 reached the camp. They arrived mounted, attended
 
 108 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 by a party of grenadiers who had been sent to meet 
 them. Everyone came out to stare at them, and the 
 fjandins of the army could not contain their amuse- 
 ment or wit when they saw the palpable awkwardness 
 of Giafferi in his new clothing. Still there was a 
 haughty and composed air about him which tended 
 to restrain their mirth. He did not seem more than 
 eight-and-thirty. Orticoni, they remarked, was a 
 man of about fifty, with a very spirituelle manner. 
 They were lodged at the convent of the missionaries, 
 at the expense of the general ; were treated at first 
 as guests, but soon found that they were in a sort 
 of honourable captivity. 
 
 There is something touching in the picture of 
 these brave and single-minded men full of honour, 
 good sense, and piety thus passing through the 
 ranks of the frivolous and scoffing French, who were 
 not able to restrain their merriment at their simple 
 and old-world air. 
 
 Then they began to have interviews with the 
 general -in his cabinet, which set in with neutral 
 courtesies, but gradually grew warmer in tone as 
 the deputies showed they were not prepared to 
 accept an unconditional submission to Genoa. Soon 
 growing impatient, the general addressed a blunt 
 and somewhat haughty despatch to Paoli and the 
 Corsican chiefs, in which he told them plainly they 
 must dismiss every notion of arrangement save that
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 109 
 
 of returning under the yoke of their old masters, 
 and that they must trust to the king to make this 
 settlement as favourable to them as possible ; and 
 he bade them, as it were, impress this cruel fact 
 on the deputies who were with him, arguing with 
 whom seemed to fatigue him. Almost the same day 
 a letter reached him from the Leghorn abbe', pro- 
 posing afresh that France should take the country 
 to herself, or hand it over to the Holy See ; or he 
 was willing to get the chiefs to make a secret agree- 
 ment to submit to the king's arrangements in every- 
 thing, even to going back under the Genoese power, 
 he of course assuring them that this was only to save 
 appearances ; whereas, publicly, they were to protest 
 they would never submit to this last humiliation. He 
 enclosed a despatch for the unsuspecting chiefs, strongly 
 pressing on them the advisability of this course. 
 
 The Kepublic and her agents looked on with great 
 uneasiness at these coquettings, and could scarcely 
 dissemble their impatience. But the French general 
 was master of the situation, and met this pressure 
 with imperturbable phlegm, though he was presently 
 to find himself no match for their secret and skilful 
 artifices. The aim was to discompose the rather 
 precarious relation between the natives and the 
 French, already so delicately balanced that a very 
 slight influence would convert it into hostility. It 
 was an infinite tribute to the moderation and patience
 
 110 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 of the Corsicans that they could have restrained 
 themselves so long. Very soon agents were busy in 
 the more distant districts, scattering rumours of a 
 general and enforced disarmament, sending abroad 
 whispers that the leaders had settled all in their own 
 interest. There were distracted counsels and much 
 agitation ; and finally, several mountaineers having 
 carried off some cattle which belonged to the con- 
 sul, an overt act was committed, which inflamed the 
 French. The general affected to suppose that he had 
 been played with all this time, and seemed to make 
 the whole nation responsible for the disorderly act 
 of a few. 
 
 Almost at the same time news came that a heavily- 
 armed galley, carrying no less than eighteen guns 
 and a hundred-and-twenty men, had put into Aleria. 
 She brought powder, muskets, and general stores, and 
 six more German officers. Again fresh news of the 
 wonderful Theodore I This was his ship and arma- 
 ment ; more aid was on its way ! In a few days 
 two vessels were scouring the coast a tiny fleet of 
 privateers, with the Corsican flag flying green and 
 yellow, and the inscription : " In te, Domine, speravi." 
 
 Far away, and perhaps unconscious of what was 
 going on, Theodore pursued his unwearying efforts. 
 Now, on the 8th April, arrived another lieutenant of 
 reputation Frediani with fresh supplies, and a letter 
 of encouragement and promise to his "illustrious
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. Ill 
 
 ministers of state and marshals-general." He bade 
 them assure the faithful people that he had not 
 abandoned them. His absence was solely owing to 
 a visit to his own friends and relations, whom his 
 many letters had never reached. For the love of 
 Heaven let them not be dismayed by the menaces of 
 the Genoese or the cunning of the French all would 
 be well. Let them only continue this devotion " to 
 our royal person," and let them bind the people by 
 a solemn oath never to submit themselves to the 
 domination of the Genoese. His marriage was about 
 to take place, and that alliance would strengthen the 
 power he had to help them. In a few weeks he 
 would be on his way ; they would see him, " their 
 king and father," who was determined to conquer or 
 die. This spirit-stirring document came from Eybach, 
 and was dated the 19th February ; so that he could 
 hardly have received certain news of the arrival of 
 the French. Frediani brought more powder and 
 munitions of war. 
 
 The chiefs were sorely embarrassed. They saw 
 the danger of any trifling with the French. They 
 had themselves lost faith in Theodore, or at least saw 
 that it was fatal to encourage him in presence of a 
 French army ; and after much anxious thought, deter- 
 mined to suppress this proclamation. But his envoy 
 refused to be a party to this concealment, and openly 
 published its contents. Again the people were excited,
 
 112 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR 
 
 the spirit of the old romance became alive, and an 
 agitation that bade defiance to all moderate counsels 
 began to spread ; the cry now was, to break off all 
 negotiation, and expect the coming of their king. 
 Rumour, too, was heard of another Dutch vessel seen 
 off Gaeta ; and a few weeks later another strange 
 barque succeeded in putting into the lucky port of 
 Aleria, having successfully eluded the vigilance of the 
 French galleys which were cruising round the coast. 
 The people crowded to the beach, and found that she 
 brought no less than thirty-two bronze cannon, three 
 hundred barrels of powder, with lead, and other 
 munitions of war, in charge of Baron Drost, Theodore's 
 nephew, a brave and spirited young man. He ad- 
 dressed them, and told them that Theodore was at 
 last on his way, with vast succour " frigates of war, 
 arms, supplies of every kind," he told them. The 
 eclat of this arrival was so brilliant, that the crowd 
 did not consider that the strange vessel was taking on 
 board a return cargo of oil, coral, wool, honey, and 
 such things. The two-and-thirty bronze cannon over- 
 powered all reflection ; and it was said that the French 
 general was so alarm ed^at this substantial shape of aid, 
 that he had word privately sent to Theodore that the 
 French were really thinking of acknowledging him, 
 but that the presence of the Baron would destroy all 
 chance of accommodation. The truth is found in a 
 very humble letter which Paolljmd his friends sent
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 113 
 
 at once to Bastia, assuring his excellency that they 
 adopted his idea of getting this " pretended baron " 
 out of the kingdom, and that they had sent people 
 to manage the affair skilfully. In any case, they did 
 not think the stranger had power to cause any trouble, 
 for they had carefully warned the people against him. 
 These poor chiefs were indeed trembling under the 
 responsibility that had been cast upon them, held 
 accountable, as they were, both by their own followers 
 and the imperious strangers. They seemed to have 
 succeeded, probably by holding out to Drost some 
 hope that his uncle would be considered ; and he 
 retired to Leghorn to wait events. He had not to 
 
 o 
 
 wait very long. 
 
 The Amsterdam merchants were then known as 
 among the most speculative in Europe insuring 
 vessels, and curiously mingling the mysteries of the 
 cabala with their commercial dealings. It was the 
 richest town in Europe ; everyone in the words of 
 a writer of the last century " tormenting " body and 
 soul, not to enjoy money, but in the hope of dying 
 rich. Ships clustered here, and their magazines were 
 bursting with all the stores and treasures of the world. 
 Their sp^cicdite, too, was the materiel of war, " many 
 nations sending to them to buy arms, buff coats, 
 belts, etc. ; and there are even shopkeepers here who 
 are said to be able to deliver arms for four or five 
 thousand men, at a cheaper rate than they can be 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 purchased anywhere else." Casanova gives a picture 
 of these wealthy traders, who lived luxuriously, and 
 not after the manner of the conventional type of the 
 burly burgomaster. The Hague, close by, supplied a 
 crowd of adventurers, to whom this abundance of 
 wealth was a temptation. 
 
 Here, in this congenial atmosphere, appeared the 
 ardent Theodore. His persuasive tongue was never 
 weary of describing to the merchants his golden 
 prospects ; it never rested in painting the certainty of 
 success, if he was only properly supported. These 
 seductive pictures at last had their effect ; and he 
 induced the three great houses of Boom, Trouchain, 
 and Neuville to consider his project. These enter- 
 prising traders actually formed themselves into a great 
 company, on the model of the large Indian societies. 
 They obtained either the connivance or actual support 
 of the Government, and bound Theodore down, in 
 case of success, to special advantages to be accorded 
 to Dutch trade. These surprising speculators pro- 
 ceeded to fit out a regular squadron, heavily armed, 
 and furnished it with supplies of every conceivable 
 kind. The merchandise was their own venture, but 
 the warlike stores they risked with Theodore : 6000 
 muskets and bayonets, 2000 pairs of pistols, 24,000 
 pounds of powder for cannon, 100,000 pounds of finer 
 powder, 200,000 pounds of lead, 2000 grenades, 1000 
 bombs, 50 drums, 50 standards ; musical instruments ;
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 115 
 
 6000 pairs of shoes ; canvas for 1000 tents, and 1000 
 beds ; stores of all kinds. There were, besides, twelve 
 24-pounders, three culverins, and twelve 12-pounders ; 
 with 8000/. or 9000Z. Twenty-four chests were put 
 on board, containing the private effects of the king, 
 and a perfect treasury of 500,000 livres, to pay the 
 troops, and help in founding commercial establish- 
 ments. Such was the miscellany poured forth by 
 the rich magazines of Amsterdam for this splendid 
 adventure. We may admire this wonderful Theodore 
 the magician who conjured up this show as he 
 sailed away triumphantly out of the Amstel with this 
 royal squadron. 
 
 They did not seem to have dreamed of this at 
 Bastia. The negotiations were dragging on. As a 
 French galley would come in, commanded by Captain 
 Villeneuve, the general would go on board and dine, 
 and be recreated with cheerful music. But the soldiers 
 were growing more disgusted with the place, and more 
 savage against the people. The officers wrote home, 
 complaining that "the ladies were kept secluded, 
 and the men were jealous." The chiefs had sent in 
 their famous and admirably- drawn appeal to Cardinal 
 Fleury, who replied with plain but merciful logic, 
 telling them that they must resign themselves ; that 
 they had belonged to the Genoese, and must go back 
 to them. De Boissieux, growing impatient, and per- 
 haps pressed from home, was in no temporising mood, 
 
 i 2
 
 116 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR 
 
 and at last demanded hostages for the good behaviour 
 of the people, and who were to be sent to Paris. 
 They submitted cheerfully even to this degradation, 
 were put on board the galleys, and taken to France. 
 
 But now, at the end of August, a courier arrived 
 at Bastia with a despatch from the Marquis Mari, 
 the Genoese consul at Cagliari in Sardinia, containing 
 some startling news. At noon, on the 14th of August, 
 a large Dutch vessel of war, carrying sixty guns, with 
 two Dutch merchant vessels, came into the harbour, 
 and saluted the town with fifteen guns. They said 
 they had come from Algiers and Malaga, and were 
 now bound for Leghorn. Some of the crew having 
 gone ashore, a sailor was heard to say carelessly that 
 they had cannon and stores on board which they were 
 to leave at Corsica ; that they wanted provisions, and 
 that they wished to avoid the French galleys which 
 were on the coast. The consul was speculating over 
 these rumours, when, on the following morning, another 
 Dutch vessel came in, carrying fifty guns, crowded 
 with men, and, having saluted the other vessels, sent 
 off a boat to them. On this the consul sent to the 
 viceroy, who despatched a German major, who could 
 speak Dutch, to offer his compliments. This was a 
 mere pretext ; but he ascertained nothing. Other 
 officers, who wished to see the ships, were refused 
 admission. Some of the sailors who were wandering 
 about were then arrested by the police, and questioned ;
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 117 
 
 but nothing could be got out of them. The next day 
 the officers came on shore, and paid a visit of com- 
 pliment to the viceroy. With all this information the 
 courier was at once despatched. It was picturesque 
 enough, but alarming too. 
 
 Other couriers followed on his heels, with fresh 
 details from the French consul Paget, and the viceroy 
 himself. The new features were, that the two mer- 
 chant-vessels had sailed out, but still kept in the 
 offing ; and that, while one of the war-vessels held 
 communication with the shore, the other jealously 
 refused admission to everyone, and allowed no one 
 to leave it. The captain was said to be sick below, 
 and no one could see him. On the deck of this 
 secluded frigate soldiers could be made out, and 
 the glitter of trumpets and horns could be seen ; 
 farther, the smaller vessels were found not to be so 
 much merchantmen as small galiots, carrying from 
 ten to twelve guns each. The whole was most 
 suspicious : they had taken down their sails, and 
 seemed to have no intention of moving ; more sus- 
 picious still was the saluting of the first vessel by 
 the second, as though there was someone of dis- 
 tinction on board ; their stories to the officers of 
 health and of the port seemed to be all false ; in 
 short, the general conviction was that King Theodore 
 was on board ; and they appeared to be waiting 
 for despatches. This is one of the many dra-
 
 118 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 matic pictures in the adventurer's life : the little 
 capital all on the qui vive; the great vessels 
 reposing tranquilly, after the long voyage, in the 
 pretty Sardinian bay ; the mystery ; the glimpses 
 of the soldiers on the deck ; the inquisitive boats 
 gliding round ; and Theodore himself on board, keep- 
 ing .close, and waiting for news with anxiety at his 
 heart. 
 
 It had been a long voyage. The wary Dutch 
 merchants, whose capital of " five millions " was thus 
 embarked, had placed it all in the hands of a sort 
 of supercargo, or chief captain, with- strict instruc- 
 tions that he was to deliver nothing without payment, 
 which was to be made at Alicante and Malaga. This 
 was the Genoese story; which seemed highly im- 
 probable, unless they put faith in the dim vision 
 of support from Spain. One vessel was called the 
 Frakel, and was commanded by one Railman ; an- 
 other was under Captain Wiemanbaum, who proved 
 to be a thorough scoundrel. In due course they 
 touched at the two places ; but the persuasive Theo- 
 dore beguiled the captain with excuses, and induced 
 him to continue the voyage. Another story ran, that 
 Theodore's vessel had stopped at Algiers to try what 
 could be done to tempt the Bey again ; and his arrival 
 at Cagliari seems to support this. They were about 
 two months on the voyage. A young Dutch lad, who 
 had been on board the Frakel, fell into the hands of
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 119 
 
 the French. He was dull, or difficult to understand 
 because of his language ; but his account has an air 
 of dramatic mystery too. His name was Kelmor, 
 and he was servant to a passenger, who, though a 
 sailor by profession, was of good family, very rich, 
 and whose name was Sniden Terxel. They made the 
 island of Sardinia, where he had seen a large and 
 beautiful town the name of which he could not recall, 
 and where they had been saluted with cannon. While 
 they were lying there, Theodore had come from the 
 other vessel, accompanied by a colonel, four or five 
 officers, and four servants ; there were two small 
 craft filled with those in his retinue, which was said 
 to reach fifty the old list of a secretary, a com- 
 missary, a maitre d' hotel, two surgeons, two cooks, 
 two squires, four chasseurs, and the rest. There was 
 a magnificence in all this ; but the true adventurer 
 does everything with this sumptuous show. And 
 his brother adventurer, Casanova, when he set up 
 his establishment at Paris, had his hotel, and lackeys, 
 and secretaries, and cooks, and carriages. All these, 
 the Genoese said, were the very scum of the earth, 
 composed of Italians, French, Germans, of all degrees. 
 Theodore had to wait a long time while despatches 
 were passing and repassing. The King of Sicily was 
 induced to send orders to the viceroy to seize 
 Theodore ; but the viceroy judged this too impru- 
 dent a step, and so the Dutch lay there tranquilly
 
 120 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 waiting. One morning the three larger vessels made 
 sail out of the port ; the others, " the four Pinquas," 
 followed later. On this occasion he determined to 
 land in the south, passed by the Straits of Bonifaccio, 
 when he encountered a storm, or gave out that he 
 had. He passed by the bay of Porto Vecchio, and 
 finally, on the 13th September, dropped anchor off 
 Soraco, a little higher up. To his disappointment, 
 he found that they would not receive him at Porto 
 Vecchio, and he had to go on ; this was a shock. 
 The people crowded to the shore ; but they showed 
 more curiosity than loyalty. The worst was, the chiefs 
 held aloof, and tried to make the people follow their 
 exmple. They watched and wondered, but Theodore 
 did not appear ; he, however, sent a letter to them. 
 He told them that the storm had scattered his fleet, 
 and that he had only three ships ; but that the 
 rest would arrive presently. " You know my love 
 for you," he went on ; " see what I have done. Do 
 you now keep your pledges, as I have done mine. 
 But my fixed resolution is not to disembark from 
 the deck of this vessel until you let me know whether 
 you still recognise me as your king. If you are not 
 in the same mind which I cannot bring myself to 
 believe then I must abandon you to your enemies ; 
 and you will repent your want of faith, while I shall 
 go and end my days happily in some new shape 
 of life." This adroit address had good effect. The
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 121 
 
 crowds increased ; curiosity and impatience, and in- 
 deed their old impulsive loyalty stimulated them, and 
 very soon rose up the old cry, " Long live Theodore 
 our king ! " 
 
 He wrote in quite another tone to a village priest, 
 and the letter shows his natural anger and disap- 
 pointment. He found, he said, that the inhabitants 
 of Porto Vecchio still persisted in favouring the 
 enemy, and refused to give him up the fort at the 
 entrance of the harbour. He wished them to be 
 persuaded to be loyal ; he would forgive them all 
 that had passed, and would treat them as faithful 
 subjects ; but they must submit at once, or he would 
 take prompt measures to punish and chastise them ; 
 they must send him four hostages. 
 
 To his old friend Matras, whom he had created a 
 marquis on his first landing, he wrote five or six days 
 later. But things had mended then, and looked 
 brighter. " Thanks unto God, my dear marquis, I 
 am arrived safe, in spite of all persecutions and 
 treacheries. Come speedily to join me, with all our 
 faithful friends. I wait for you, and will welcome you 
 with open arms. Be sure to bring horses with you 
 for me and for my suite ; besides about two hundred 
 beasts of burden for us and for our baggage. Be of 
 good heart. In a few days we shall see the other 
 vessels which the storm has scattered. Kemember me 
 to madam the marchioness. Bring all you can with
 
 122 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 you, well armed, and about two hundred who have 
 no arms. I will supply them gratis, and with 
 powder, ball, etc. ; but as for stuffs, iron, leather, 
 linen, etc., everyone must buy or exchange what he 
 wants." This was significant. Poor Theodore ! of 
 all the rich stores of 24-pounders, the thousands 
 of muskets, &c., he could dispose of only a pitiful 
 two hundred. He then adds : " As the people seem 
 all divided and distracted, you must order them, in 
 my name, to bring in here plenty of wine, grain, and 
 cattle." 
 
 The Genoese about there were in mortal terror. 
 A Captain Ettori spurred away from Porto Yecchio to 
 the commissary at Bonifaccio with the news, and with 
 Theodore's letter, which the village priest had given 
 up. The commissary was going to send on the letter 
 to Bastia, but the captain and another (Captain Doria) 
 fell into a tremor, and said they would kill them- 
 selves if it was not given back to them, as, if the 
 fort was taken by assault by Theodore, they would be 
 asked for it. The commissary had to yield to these 
 cravens, and sent off a galley with the news to Bastia. 
 The unlucky Theodore had chosen for landing-place 
 an awkward district which was in the power of his 
 enemies ; and the people were afraid. 
 
 At last the eventful day of his long-expected 
 coming arrived. He landed. It was another triumph. 
 They received him with transport, and with frequent
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 123 
 
 discharges of musketry the usual rustic shape of con- 
 gratulation. Then he began to disembark the stores. 
 He engaged local craft in his service, and one of the 
 " patrons " subsequently gave him an agreement which 
 has a ludicrous pomp about it.* 
 
 But almost at once came a check. After six 
 barrels of powder and a few cases of muskets had 
 been landed, the unloading was suspended. We learn 
 that the supercargo, faithful to his trust, declined to 
 furnish any more, save on the terms of the directions 
 he had received. There was no money to buy them, 
 and no produce to exchange for them. This official 
 must have been that sailor who was rich and of good 
 birth. Everything was at a standstill ; but an un- 
 expected event was to show the poor adventurer that 
 the tenure of his life was nearly as precarious as that 
 of his fortunes, and that a double series of dangers 
 menaced him. While these matters were in train he 
 used to sleep on board one of his vessels. One night 
 he awoke with a curious presentiment that he was 
 about to be burnt alive. He went to sleep again, and 
 was awoke by the same vivid impression. He roused 
 his servants, and taking three of them with him, went 
 to look for the captain, Wiemanbaum, whom he found 
 
 * The name of the boat was the Jesus Maria Joseph and the 
 Souls in Purgatory ; and the agreement was signed : " In the 
 kingdom of Corsica; for the service of his majesty King Theodore 
 the First, for such time as shall be agreeable to his majesty." It 
 was signed by his majesty on the one part, " Theodore."
 
 124 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 actually busy in preparing to fire the powder-magazine. 
 The man fell at his feet and confessed it all ; and on 
 the next day he told the people of this marvellous 
 escape ; and it was then discovered that it had been 
 the night of the feast of St. Julia, the patroness of the 
 island. With so devout and excitable a race this had 
 a prodigious effect. Theodore sentenced the guilty 
 conspirator who was said to have been bribed by 
 the Genoese to be burned alive, but graciously com- 
 muted the sentence into hanging at the yardarm of 
 his own vessel, which example was duly made. But 
 there is another version of this business scarcely so 
 romantic. This captain was said to have been super- 
 cargo, and was showing himself impracticable, declin- 
 ing to disobey his instructions and allow the stores to 
 be landed. Mr. Bos well heard in the island that 
 Theodore had put him to death ; and it did seem 
 probable that he had invented this plot as an excuse 
 for getting rid of a troublesome impediment. His 
 situation was indeed hopeless, and might tempt 
 a desperate man to such an expedient. But sub- 
 sequent proceedings show that he had the real 
 supercargo arrested at Naples ; and such violence is 
 quite out of keeping with Theodore's character and 
 policy, for it could scarcely have helped him. The 
 captain would have been supported by his other 
 captains. The story is indeed exceedingly doubt- 
 ful ; for when we think of the class of persons who
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 125 
 
 surrounded him, and that there was at that moment 
 the splendid and tempting reward offered by the 
 Genoese to anyone who should destroy him, nothing 
 is more likely than that a fresh attempt should have 
 been made on his life. Nothing, too, is more likely 
 than that such a colour should have been given to 
 the story by his enemies. We shall see presently 
 that he took a less severe mode of punishing the 
 uncomplying captain. 
 
 At Bastia, meanwhile, the French general became 
 seriously alarmed, and wrote over to France for 
 reinforcements. At once he assumed an insolent 
 and haughty tone, and seemed inclined to hold the 
 deputies in his power, and the absent chiefs account- 
 able. He specially accused Paoli of being faithless ; 
 a charge that wounded that brave patriot, and who 
 wrote to justify himself. Ten days after Theodore's 
 arrival, Paoli flew to Corte, to try and stop the 
 growing excitement, and to show the chiefs " the cer- 
 tain peril and terrible precipices" at the edge of which 
 they were standing. He called a little assembly, 
 and set the danger before them ; but the crowd 
 gathered round, and told him roughly that the French 
 had treated them dishonourably and faithlessly, and 
 that they would avail themselves of this welcome assist- 
 ance. He frankly told them at Bastia that he could 
 not make head against this movement without danger 
 to his life ; at the same time he would not lose sight
 
 126 KINGS AXD QUEENS OF AX HOUR. 
 
 of them, but do all he could to moderate and keep 
 them within bounds. He was indeed, he said, between 
 Scylla and Charybdis. " I know not on which of these 
 two rocks my shipwreck is to take place, but am ready 
 to submit to whatever lot Heaven sends me." Another 
 might have been reasonably suspected ; but this man 
 was truly noble and single-hearted, and he had all 
 through been consistent. He only cared for what he 
 considered the real interest of his countrymen, and 
 would save them from the cruel perils into which this 
 fatal and dazzling temptation would hurry them. 
 
 On the 22nd the general sent out his proclamation 
 in the sternest terms, warning the people " to take 
 care what they were going to do." The clemency of 
 the king, his master, had been very great ; but his 
 indignation would be no less if he heard of their 
 giving any countenance to " this adventurer." Some 
 had dared to encourage him ; let them beware. And 
 it was a fresh proof of his majesty's indulgence to 
 give them all this notice. Later he issued another, 
 in still stronger and hostile terras, telling them they 
 would forfeit all advantages of the treaty. Any house 
 receiving " the person calling himself Theodore " would 
 be razed to the ground, and the owners treated as 
 traitors. This was plain-speaking ; it was followed 
 up by action as prompt. The Marquis de Sabran, in 
 command of the frigate Flora and another vessel, was 
 sent to cruise on the western coast, coming down
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 127 
 
 towards Ajaccio. Meantime the Genoese galleys had 
 been scouring the coast, and at five one morning 
 made out four vessels at anchor in the bay of Sagona. 
 These were overhauled ; and the account they gave 
 was that they had no cargo, that their commanders 
 were awa^ with King Theodore, and that they had 
 his orders to wait until their captains returned. An 
 armed pinnace was placed to watch them, and cut 
 off communication with the shore. The vessels were 
 seized and sent off to Bastia, and the captain of the 
 galleys reported minutely to his Genoese principal 
 how the Frenchman had saluted him with five guns, 
 and how he had saluted the Frenchman. They had 
 heard from the peasants about Sagona that some 
 thirty persons had landed there, among whom were 
 two or three women, and had applied for shelter at a 
 convent, but had been refused admittance. They had 
 eventually got in through the church, and the next 
 day had been taken by a friendly canon to Guagno, 
 his own village. These men, it was noticed, were 
 dressed up in a strange blue uniform, and, it was 
 discovered later, were in the service of the Elector of 
 Cologne. 
 
 Soon the Flora and her consort came into the bay; 
 and at this apparition, one of the Italian barques 
 slipped its cable and proceeded to steal out to sea. 
 The frigate fired three cannon-shot, which at once 
 stopped its flight and brought it to, when it was
 
 128 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AX HOUR. 
 
 boarded by the king's officers, and searched. It was 
 found to be laden with arms and ammunition of all 
 kinds ; chests carefully sealed up, with others con- 
 taining a quantity of green uniforms braided with 
 yellow, intended for the unlucky Theodore's soldiers ; 
 also a quantity of papers in French, Qtrman, and 
 Dutch, and some patents, made out in the latter 
 language. Theodore was now at his wits' end. The 
 other captains stood firm. Perhaps the attitude of the 
 chiefs was too hostile for him to trust himself among 
 them ; or news had come that the negotiations had 
 been concluded, and that an arrangement had at last 
 been settled by the King of France with the Genoese, 
 which the French general now announced was already 
 in his hands, and of a most favourable sort, but which 
 he threatened to withdraw. The uncertainty as to 
 its terms would have had a powerful effect. Some 
 thought Theodore would not have wished to play 
 this rather costly stake, and would have preferred to 
 wait until the game took a more favourable turn. A 
 false step now, and he could never hope for so splendid 
 an equipment again. But the adventurer can never 
 reckon on the chance of being allowed to sit down to 
 another game ; and a later step of his shows that he 
 was still eager to stake all there and then. 
 
 Seeing no issue, and finding his hopes every day 
 growing fainter and fainter, at last Theodore had to 
 yield, to endure the humiliation of going on board
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 129 
 
 and sailing away. He had influence enough to per- 
 suade the captains to make for Naples, where the 
 three mysterious Dutch vessels dropped anchor in the 
 bay ; and where Theodore, as soon as he touched the 
 shore, went to have an interview with the Dutch 
 consul. The clever adventurer was not defeated 
 yet ; he had one more card to play ; and the 
 astonished captain presently found himself in an 
 Italian gaol, having been arrested at the instance of 
 his consul. The ground of this detention was that he 
 had refused to fulfil his contract with Theodore, in 
 not landing the stores and remaining off Corsica. He 
 protested the reason was the certain danger of his 
 ships being captured. It actually turned out that 
 this Dutch consul was an old and eager partisan of 
 Theodore's, and he had determined to detain the cap- 
 tain in prison until he had consented to return to 
 Corsica, and give security for the performance of his 
 duty. The adventurer of the last century had friends 
 and acquaintances all over the world. He made them 
 in every town ; and useful auxiliaries thus often 
 turned up in the most unexpected manner, even after 
 long years of interval. Thus at tables d'hdte, and 
 hotels in the Exchange at Amsterdam, or in the Place 
 of Saint Mark, the versatile Casanova was often "in- 
 trigued" by a face that seemed familiar, and which 
 proved to be that of some old friend, now destined to 
 be of service. 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 The French ambassador picked up all he could, 
 which was not much ; for Theodore, or " the person 
 who was given out as such," kept himself concealed, 
 and no one could get to see him. The marquis 
 hinted at some other proceedings of his own, ljut 
 would not be more explicit, " as they had no cipher " 
 arranged. Everyone seemed to think Theodore was 
 waiting to appear, in Corsica again, and it was sup- 
 posed would contrive to get the stores and mer- 
 chandise into Italian vessels, and have done with the 
 Dutch ships. The next news was that he had dis- 
 appeared from Naples; and the French ambassador 
 was alarmed by an express from 'the Leghorn consul, 
 that Theodore was believed to be on his way to 
 Corsica again, but that the Dutch captain would not 
 yield. So powerful a person as the Marquis de 
 Pussieux, ambassador of his most Christian king at 
 the court of Naples, was not to be opposed by a mere 
 Dutch consul ; and after a few weeks' intriguing and 
 " protesting," the tables were turned, and Theodore 
 was arrested and imprisoned at Gaeta. Then he 
 disappears for a season. How long he stayed there, or 
 how he was enlarged, we know not. To such a man 
 it would have been no difficult task to set himself free. 
 There, however, this act ends. 
 
 It was a pity he had not come a few weeks later, 
 when the gallant people, now at last in possession of 
 the terms offered to them, had boldly challenged both
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 131 
 
 French and Genoese, and in their first battle had 
 inflicted a humiliating defeat on the soldiers of the 
 most Christian king, cut them to pieces, and forced 
 them to carry on a humiliating guerilla war. The 
 French general, worn out with a disease which he 
 had brought with him to the island, and with mor- 
 tifications and vexations, sent for the deputies to 
 his deathbed, and there unreasonably accused them 
 of treachery and dishonour. This was not the irrita- 
 tion of a dying man ; for a decree banished them 
 from their native land. A new commander, the 
 Marquis de Maillebois, arrived from France ; and then 
 the struggle went on again. 
 
 Notwithstanding failure and absence, the feeling 
 of the people was with the absent Theodore ; and 
 when they came to choose their chiefs, they selected 
 only those who were favourable to him. He still 
 sent them his despatches, full of encouragement and 
 promises, fixing a time when he would certainly 
 arrive " by the twentieth of May ak furthest." 
 
 There were other signs of him. A gay stranger 
 presently arrived, and proved to be Theodore's nephew 
 Frederick. He was received rather roughly at first, 
 and stripped of everything he had, even to his shirt, 
 the people threatening to hold him responsible for 
 the clue arrival of his uncle : this, at least, was written 
 home by a French officer. But now came proof of 
 Theodore's intentions a ship with stores and snp-
 
 132 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 plies. There was a complete reaction. The nephew 
 was associated with the other chiefs, was made " a 
 field-marshal," and proved himself a valuable ally, a 
 spirited and dashing leader, who gave the French a 
 world of trouble. When the other chiefs were obliged 
 to make terms, he kept on the struggle, and was the 
 last to submit. A regular assembly was called. It 
 was solemnly resolved to continue their allegiance to 
 the man who was so constant to them. 
 
 Still, the contest at last became hopeless. More 
 French troops were poured in ; and Paoli and the 
 other chiefs, despairing of success, came to terms, 
 and were forced to leave their country. Theodore's 
 nephew obtained honourable terms on capitulating, 
 and was also allowed to withdraw. The island was 
 thus composed to a temporary tranquillity; and all 
 seemed at last over for Theodore. 
 
 He had gone straight to London, and there must 
 have found some sympathisers to help him substan- 
 tially. He seems to have got into high society ; 
 not very difficult for a man of such address and 
 so remarkable. It was reported in gossip that he 
 showed a great admiration for Lady Stanhope. It was 
 said also that he had made a connection with Lord 
 Carteret. 
 
 A class of persons, always ready to help in such 
 a cause, enabled him to make some sign on the 
 Corsican coast, and to keep himself in the mind of
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 133 
 
 those he might call his people. But he could not 
 do much. 
 
 Three or four years passed away, and a grand 
 European war was drawing on. Spain, France, the 
 *' Empress-Queen," were all being drawn in ; a sort of 
 " free fight " was imminent, and the petrels of blood 
 and confusion were fluttering in the air. Here was 
 an opportunity. England would be against France; 
 and there were many in rich England as interested 
 in Corsica, and as disinclined "to empty their heads 
 of the subject," as Mr. Boswell was. England had a 
 fleet, and where could that fleet harass and destroy 
 the French so effectually as in Corsica ? As a matter 
 of course, then, Theodore again appears in London, 
 where he goes about beseeching and appealing to 
 political and private people. Again he prevailed. 
 Funds were found ; he bought arms and stores, and 
 obtained even a passage on board a king's man-of- 
 war, commanded by Captain Barclay, to Leghorn. 
 They touched at Lisbon, and at Villafranca ; and 
 at last he was at Leghorn once more, on the 7th of 
 January, 1743. There he found a crowd of Corsicans 
 whom he knew, either exiles or reduced in purse. 
 There, too, and at Florence, he met Walpole's Sir 
 Horace Mann, whom he knew well, but on whom he 
 could make no impression. 
 
 AValpole heartily commended his friend for his 
 caution ; but Theodore was not daunted. General
 
 134 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 Breitewitz was then administering Florence in the 
 name of Maria Theresa; and Theodore applied 
 to him ; painted in brilliant colours the prospects 
 of the situation which, indeed, seemed certain 
 enough the trade, the alliance, and not impro- 
 bably the ultimate possession of Corsica. No one, 
 it was admitted, had so persuasive a tongue as that 
 " comely, middle-sized man, very reserved, and affect- 
 ing much dignity." And he quite persuaded the 
 governor-general, who promised to consult his court. 
 He did all he could, but was not warmly received ; 
 and Theodore was put off with evasive answers. 
 This was disheartening; but who so full of fresh 
 chances as the adventurer ? In a few days the British 
 squadron, under Admiral Matthews, comes into 
 Leghorn. Nothing could have been more apropos. 
 Theodore is presently with the admiral a true 
 specimen of the British captain of those times and 
 was pressing his schemes upon him. He explained 
 his plans in the old gorgeous colours ; and the 
 admiral, who was known to have a thorough con- 
 tempt for all foreign and " Romish " things, and 
 whose sailors had pillaged a church and hung a 
 crucifix round a monkey's neck, no doubt was 
 willing to annoy a Republic which still boasted an 
 Inquisition. He seems to have listened to the seduc- 
 tive Theodore ; took him and his stores on board 
 the Vengeance, and with the other vessels, the
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 135 
 
 Salisbury and the Princess, made sail for Corsica. 
 Again it must be repeated : " Wonderful Theodore, 
 whom nothing could dispirit ! " 
 
 The squadron arrived off Isola Rossa on the 30th 
 of January, 1743. Theodore went on shore as of 
 old. Down flocked the people ; once more were heard 
 the cries of " Long live our king ! " The arms and 
 stores were distributed, and there were universal 
 joy and enthusiasm. Theodore, carried away by his 
 reception, was betrayed into an injudicious step, the 
 issuing of a proclamation one of his weaknesses 
 conceived in a most injudicious spirit. "Thanks be 
 to God," he said, "he was once more able to meet 
 his faithful subjects, after all the sufferings and perse- 
 cution he had undergone, and all the efforts made to 
 hinder his return." He conceded a general pardon, 
 with exceptions. He pointed the moral of the past. 
 " The weakness of some, the treachery of others, the 
 want of union among the chiefs these were the real 
 causes of all our disasters, at the very moment that I 
 brought you the means of driving out the Genoese. 
 But let it be a lesson. Let experience warn you. 
 Rally round me, and I will devote my life to your 
 happiness." 
 
 This curious document seems to belong to the 
 reign of an opera-bouffe monarch, and it is worth 
 while setting it out at greater length. It gives fatal 
 evidence of the precariousness of his position.
 
 136 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 " MANIFESTO. 
 
 "THEODORUS THE FIRST, by the grace of God, King 
 of Corsica, aiid Grand Master of the Military Order of 
 Kedemption. 
 
 " Having, thanks to Providence, the consolation, so 
 ardently desired, of finding ourselves in the midst of 
 our faithful subjects in our kingdom, malgrt the 
 many losses, treasons, persecutions, we have suffered, 
 and in spite of the methods everywhere pursued to 
 dissuade, interrupt, or even totally prevent our return 
 with the necessary succour ; infamous and monstrous 
 methods, into which entered not only our enemy and 
 their instruments, but also the perjured and perfi- 
 dious chiefs, who, from particular views, for diabolical 
 ends, and Betrayed by chimerical ideas, have most 
 unworthily deserted us, and abandoned our kingdom 
 and faithful subjects to the lawless tyranny of the 
 Genoese, and had, further, the execrable temerity to 
 employ all sorts of frauds in order to seduce a great 
 number of their simple and imprudent countrymen, 
 and engage them shamefully to turn their backs on 
 their unhappy country in her greatest distress, and to 
 serve as allies of the Genoese : 
 
 " Having, on the other hand, full confidence, and 
 even infallible certainty, that all our subjects, con- 
 vinced by the mischief they have suffered, and the 
 excessive grievances they have felt during our absence,
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 137 
 
 have thoroughly apprehended the methods used to 
 impose on them ; that they have called to mind the 
 solemn and inviolable oath of obedience and fidelity 
 which they have sworn to us, and in consequence 
 thereof must know themselves obliged by God and 
 man to submit themselves to our royal will, and to 
 labour, with a sincere zeal and incorruptible fidelity, 
 to procure the welfare of us, and that of our kingdom : 
 
 " In testimony, therefore, of our royal and national 
 clemency, we grant to all our subjects, by these 
 presents, a general pardon for whatever they have 
 done, contrary to their oath of allegiance, injurious 
 to our royal right, or against the welfare of our 
 kingdom ; excluding, however, after mature delibera- 
 tion, and declaring for ever excluded from this, our 
 most gracious pardon, the infamous assassins of our 
 late most dear General Count Fabiani, of happy 
 memory, as also the perjured felons and traitors, 
 Hyacinth de Paoli; the Canon Erasmus Orticoni; 
 the Priest Gregory Salvini ; declaring them not only 
 banished for ever out of our kingdom, but command- 
 ing also that all their effects, of whatever kind, be 
 confiscated, in order to their being divided, by way of 
 recompense, among the widows and children of our 
 faithful subjects who have sacrificed their lives with 
 so much zeal, for the defence of our sovereign rights, 
 and of their dear country. 
 
 " It being further our will and pleasure that this
 
 138 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 our declaration and commandment should serve as a 
 definitive sentence, and have all the force and vigour 
 necessary against the said perfidious enemies of the 
 commonwealth, to cover them with shame, and to 
 stamp eternal infamy on their names, we this day, 
 once for all, and definitely, declare them guilty of 
 high treason, and as traitors condemn them to the 
 most ignominious death, in case they have the teme- 
 rity to set foot again in our kingdom ; and, to 
 strengthen further our most just sentence, we forbid, 
 under pain of death, without remission, and confisca- 
 tion of all their estates, all and every of our subjects 
 of what sex, rank> or condition soever they be, to have 
 any correspondence whatsoever, direct or indirect, 
 with the said felons, Hyacinth de Paoli, Erasmus 
 Orticoni, and Gregory Salvini, or with any other 
 their adherents, by whose artifices they have been 
 induced to abandon our royal service and their 
 country in its greatest distress, and this to the no 
 small benefit of our enemies, the Genoese ; to receive 
 the pay of France, Spain, and Naples ; to all there, 
 however, as persons subpoenaed and betrayed, we of 
 special grace grant our pardon, but upon this precise 
 condition, and not otherwise, that they return to our 
 obedience and into our kingdom, and this within the 
 time and space peremptorily of six weeks for such as 
 are in Italy, in either Spanish or Neapolitan services ; 
 and in the space of three months for such as arc
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 
 
 entirely in France or Spain ; and in case they shall 
 not return within that time, we will and ordain 
 definitely, and once for all, that they be and remain 
 perpetually banished out of our kingdom, and their 
 goods confiscated." 
 
 He then proceeds in grandiloquent terms to 
 declare that it was "our unalterable resolution" to 
 support the just rights of Her Majesty the Queen of 
 Hungary and Bohemia ; also to allow any of her 
 subjects in the service of the Grand-Dukes of Tuscany 
 to continue in that service ; and engages to aid those 
 sovereigns to the best of his ability. As for such of 
 his subjects as were in the service of the Pope, or the 
 State of Venice, he allowed the former one month, the 
 latter three months' grace before returning. As for 
 those who were in the Genoese service, if they did not 
 instantly return, they w r ould be treated as banished 
 persons, and their goods confiscated. 
 
 " In consequence of our gracious condescension, and 
 of our general pardon, we steadfastly hope that all 
 our faithful subjects will concur with us in the general 
 enterprise of uniting and reassembling all such as are 
 disposed to live exiled from our country ; and we direct 
 this document to be published in all the pieves; for 
 such is our royal pleasure. To this end we have affixed 
 it with our hand and sealed it with our broad seal. 
 
 " Given at Bologna, in Santa Reparata, January 
 30th, 1743, and in the seventh year of our 
 reign, which God render happy and exalted."
 
 140 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 Having seen the chiefs and told them his plans, 
 and how he would soon return, having debarked a 
 considerable number of arms, with ammunition, shoes, 
 hats, watch-coats, and other stores, he retired on board 
 his ship, but continued some time on the coast to see 
 how his orders were obeyed. He had the satisfaction 
 to hear of the surrender of Corte, and then sailed for 
 Tuscany. 
 
 As he was on board, some of the more influential 
 deputies came to wait on him, and quietly put some 
 questions to him as to what his hopes were from 
 other powers, especially the very direct and awkward 
 one : was the English squadron going to support him, 
 and to act against the Genoese ? He could only 
 answer in generalities, and talk of the Empress-Queen. 
 There were mysterious powers in the distance, who 
 would arrive by-and-by with ships, and money, and 
 soldiers. The deputies answered very coldly indeed, 
 that the people wished to be sure, and have earnest 
 of these promises ; they did not wish to be deceived 
 again. And yet it was suspected, and reasonably, 
 that this was the old jealousy or malice ; for here was 
 the English squadron off Corsica, and England was 
 on good terms with Genoa. 
 
 This repulse was a fatal blow. The deputies, 
 returning, reported unfavourably that he had no 
 power, no resources, no support ; and the crowd, 
 easily led, turned away. The rough Matthews, who
 
 THE STORY OF THEODOEE OF CORSICA. 141 
 
 Walpole supposed would have addressed the Pope in 
 good coarse terms, would no doubt have sworn at 
 Theodore as an impostor, have seen how things were, 
 and would have allowed but a shore delay. And so 
 the sails were spread ; and it must have been with a 
 sorrowful and heavy heart that the poor adventurer 
 saw the pretty shore he so hungered for, and had 
 made such gallant efforts to win, fade on the horizon. 
 This was the last coup the fourth act. He was 
 never to see that island or the blue Mediterranean 
 again. 
 
 A little barque was wrecked on the Genoese part of 
 the coast, and a sham Capuchin was taken with a 
 great deal of money about him, and no less than 
 thirty-two letters, written for the purpose of exciting 
 an insurrection in Caprera. But the heaviest blow 
 was to come from England. The Genoese ambas- 
 sadors were working in all directions ; and their 
 envoy at London no doubt thinking of the English 
 aid already sent, and of the shelter which Theodore 
 was reported to have received at the English consul's 
 at Tunis addressed a formal memorial, full of com- 
 plaints, to the King of England. 
 
 " MEMORIAL OF THE GENOESE MINISTER IN LONDON, PRESENTED 
 TO HIS BRITANNIC MAJESTY. 
 
 " SIRE, 
 
 " The sentiments with which my Republic 
 
 has all along endeavoured to preserve a solid corre-
 
 142 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR 
 
 spondence with the Crown of Great Britain, and 
 studied always to deserve the goodwill of your 
 Majesty and the Kings your predecessors, are well 
 known to your Majesty and the whole British nation. 
 Upon all occasions the Republic has had the happi- 
 ness to be informed by her envoys and ministers at 
 your Court of your kindness to her, and that her 
 behaviour was agreeable to your Majesty when stating 
 that the Emperor Charles VI. had assisted them, and 
 after his withdrawal that the French King had come 
 to their aid. 
 
 " The Republic communicated that treaty to your 
 Majesty, and beseeched you to enter into engagements 
 so just by guaranteeing her Corsica in the same 
 manner as had been done by the Emperor and the 
 French King. 
 
 "Though your Majesty did not think fit to accede 
 to that treaty, yet you were so good as to make 
 answer to the Republic's minister that you were 
 pleased with this mark of her regard and attention ; 
 that you looked upon the succour offered by France 
 as the best and only means to put an end to the 
 rebellions ; that the Republic might be assured of the 
 favourable attentions of your Majesty, who had given 
 her proof thereof before any other prince did, in ex- 
 pressly forbidding all officers of ships under English 
 colours to transport to Corsica arms and warlike stores, 
 or to hold any manner of correspondence with the rebels.
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 143 
 
 "After such signal proofs of your Majesty's regard 
 for the Republic and the recent assurances which she 
 has received on account of what was lately done by 
 Admiral Matthews' squadron, we have advices from 
 divers parts that Theodore de Neuhoff, known in the 
 world to be the author of the troubles of the kingdom 
 of Corsica, was in the British seas, and intended to 
 set sail for the Mediterranean. We have since learned 
 that he appeared on the coast of Portugal, on board 
 an English man-of-war, commanded by Captain George 
 Barclay ; that it was currently reported at Lisbon that 
 he was going to Corsica with arms and ammunition. 
 Afterwards we had advice that he landed at Villa- 
 franca in the said ship, and at last that he put into 
 Leghorn about the middle of February. That he 
 received then on board his ship several of the prin- 
 cipal of the exiled and seditious chiefs of the Cor- 
 sicans, who had been dispersed in several towns in 
 Tuscany ; that he had a private conference of several 
 hours with General Breitarty, who came from Florence 
 to Leghorn, and went on board an English ship with 
 the British consul. In fine, we heard that the said 
 Theodore departed from thence with those chiefs of 
 the rebels, all embarked in the same ship, in the 
 night of January 30 last (N.S.), steering towards 
 Corsica, in company with another English man-of-war 
 called the Salisbury, commanded by Captain Peter 
 Osborn ; that a few days before, the said Theodore had
 
 144 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 despatched an emissary to Corsica, one Vinceso by 
 name, in another English man-of-war, and had caused 
 a seditious edict to be dispersed, dated in the seventli 
 year of his reign, in which edict he discovers his 
 views and intentions against the tranquillity of 
 Corsica. 
 
 "The Republic has received fresher intelligence 
 from her commissary- general and commandants of 
 forces in Corsica, viz., that the above-named emissary 
 of Theodore had landed in the island ; that he was 
 spiriting up the people to a new rebellion ; that he 
 promised them the arrival of Theodore, with several 
 English men-of-war, land forces, and a great quantity 
 of arms and ammunition. The said commissary - 
 general and commandants also write that the Revenge 
 and the Salisbury had appeared on the coast and 
 landed gunpowder and other warlike stores, at ti 
 place called Isola Rossa ; that these ships cruised in 
 that sea in order to intercept, as it is said, the 
 succour that might be sent from Genoa to the 
 places in the island, and that in the meantime they 
 actually stopped with their long-boats all the coasting 
 small craft under Genoese, colours, taking out their 
 cargoes, and detaining the vessels some time ; that 
 Theodore, being still in the Revenge, had summoned 
 the commanding officers of some little forts to sur- 
 render, otherwise they would be treated with the 
 utmost severity.
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 145 
 
 "On which the Republic makes a warm remon- 
 strance to his Majesty, ' and cannot/ it says, ' ex- 
 press the surprise and confusion which so positive 
 and circumstantial accounts have caused here. She 
 cannot form any conjecture well enough grounded 
 about the cause of so unforeseen an event. She 
 cannot imagine that the admirals and captains of 
 the English ships can, in their own names and 
 through personal views, be guilty of such attempts.' 
 He begs therefore that ' the necessary eclaircissements 
 be given to the Republic.' ' 
 
 Being pressed thus warmly, the English minister 
 was complaisant, and on the 26th of July a pro- 
 clamation was issued in the London Gazette, for- 
 bidding any English subject to furnish supplies or 
 assistance of any sort to those who were rather offen- 
 sively described in the Gazette as " the Corsican 
 rebels." Here was something to appeal to, by way 
 of precedent, in reference to recent doctrines about 
 the recognition of belligerents. It was a most cruel 
 stroke, and had much the same effect that the refusal 
 to recognise the Southern States had upon their 
 fortunes. 
 
 Theodore was put on shore at Leghorn, then went 
 to Sienna, and obtaining an English passport, set 
 off to London. He had sent on complaints and 
 "despatches" to his English friends. He arrived 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 KIXGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 himself, and was now to become one of the luckless 
 band of outcasts, a current of whom have so long 
 oozed through the obscurer quarters of the great city 
 by Soho and Leicester Squares, having a refuge indeed 
 and shelter, but treated with the harmless contempt 
 which always alights on those who have fallen, or 
 who have failed. For about twelve years he was to 
 live here, waiting and watching, hoping for some- 
 thing to " turn up ; " but it never did, and the game 
 was over for ever. 
 
 In London we have a few glimpses of the fallen 
 adventurer. He lived in lodgings in Mount Street, 
 Grosvenor Square not a bad situation, and close 
 to the Mount Coffee-house. There was some curiosity 
 about so strange a man, who had seen so much, 
 and had so much to tell. Men of that class who 
 had seen adventure, like Paoli, and Poniatowski 
 later, often have success in the salons; and we have 
 glimpses accordingly of Theodore as he flits across 
 the checkered scenes of London society. In 1749, 
 Walpole was to meet him at Lady Schaub's, to drink 
 coffee, owning he was curious to see him. He told 
 Boswell later of his disappointment, and that the 
 king never spoke a word. "Dulness or pride was 
 the motive," as he good-naturedly imputed it. But 
 Boswell explained it more charitably. " I suppose 
 he had been so dejected, and so hurt with his mis- 
 fortunes, that he was become sullen and indifferent."
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 147 
 
 Indeed, all through, the wit was very pleasant and 
 smart on the poor adventurer and his kingship, 
 scrupulously styling him "his majesty," just as he 
 would sneer at one of the pasteboard kings of Drury 
 Lane. 
 
 This was only in the true key of the time ; for 
 Lord March and Sir Hanbury Williams were merry 
 on all kindred topics, though there was nothing so 
 ludicrous in the spectacle of one who had been a 
 real crowned king, and who had fought in the field 
 for his crown, and had made really spirited and 
 gallant efforts to recover it. How he lived was a 
 mystery ; but he was still looking wistfully to his 
 island. Debt and pressure were sure to come ; and 
 the following year, 1750, Walpole wrote out, as an 
 exquisite jest, that the poor adventurer had been 
 arrested and lodged in the King's Bench. Theodore's 
 son tried to give a sort of dignity to this misfortune 
 by saying it was a plot on the part of Gastaldi, the 
 Genoese minister, who had 450 lent to Theodore by 
 some merchants, and then had him arrested. Theodore, 
 suspecting some such attempt, had influence enough 
 to obtain a residence in some privileged place, pos- 
 sibly in an ambassador's house, out of which the 
 bailiffs drew him by a pretended message from Lord 
 Granville,'to whom Theodore repaired, full of hope and 
 joy. Mr. Walpole was immensely amused, and talked 
 of sending Hogarth to paint him in jail. 
 
 L 2
 
 148 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 Now began a new shape of life the squalor and 
 degradation of a debtors' prison. A few friends 
 thought of him, and occasionally sent him a little aid. 
 Lady Yarmouth and Lord Granville were among 
 these Samaritans. Some used to go and see him 
 from mere curiosity, and to hear him tell his story. 
 The rusting and fatal process of confinement for debt 
 had the usual curious effect, degrading and affecting 
 him precisely as it did the Mr. Dorrit of fiction, 
 giving him a spurious importance in that wretched 
 place, and making him take a sort of pride in his old 
 dignity. He maintained this burlesque state, received 
 visitors, sitting on his poor pallet, under " the top of 
 a half- tester bed." There he would tell his tale, and 
 receive any little "testimonial." There he was visited 
 by Dr. Nugent, of Literary Club celebrity, who, 
 when on his travels, interested a German court for a 
 whole evening with the curious account. There came 
 Monnet, the lively French actor and manager, who 
 was very intimate with him. He was persuaded at 
 times to knight some of his visitors, and add them to 
 the ranks of his " Order of Deliverance." And in the 
 year 1800 there was alive an old gentleman who had 
 received this honour, and who, among his friends, was 
 styled facetiously " Sir Michael." " Doctor Miller of 
 Maidstone," whoever he was, used to show the sword 
 with which these honours had been conferred, and 
 had been presented with it in acknowledgment of
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 149 
 
 some kindness to the fallen adventurer. His son, 
 Count Frederick, " the Prince of Caprera," Lady 
 Sarsfield's son, was now also in London, struggling 
 to earn a pittance by the usual conventional means, 
 teaching a little French and Italian the first shabby- 
 genteel resource, being of course employed out of 
 charity, and his teaching but of small profit. He used 
 to repair to the King's Bench, and share the crust he 
 earned with the prisoner. 
 
 Some two years thus rolled away. The state of 
 the debtors' prisons was then attracting attention, 
 and a committee of the House of Commons was 
 taking evidence on the treatment of debtors. Theo- 
 dore, as being the lion of the place, and perhaps 
 to gratify the curiosity of the senators, was duly 
 examined. No doubt the fine gentlemen thought it 
 was a rare piece of sport, and called him " his 
 majesty." Whether from this publicity, or from 
 other reasons, it was determined to make an effort 
 to set him free ; and Dodsley, the bookseller, and 
 some other friends, determined to try if a subscription 
 could be raised. A new journal, the World, had 
 just been started, in which Lord Bath, Mr. Horace 
 Walpole, and other persons of wit and fashion, were 
 writing ; and Mr. Walpole volunteered to make a 
 diverting appeal for this sham king in distress. 
 Accordingly, on Thursday, February 22nd, 1753, a 
 bantering essay made its appearance ; a few days
 
 150 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 before, Theodore had obtained " a day-rule," or leave 
 of absence, which was, no doubt, in connection with 
 this business. This little curiosity, which was pre- 
 served, ran : 
 
 " BANG R The bearer, Theodore, Baron de 
 Neuhoff and de Stein, hath this day a rule of 
 Court to go out of the prison of the King's Bench 
 granted to him, to transact his affairs. 
 
 "(Signed) L. COTTAM. 
 
 "Dated this 12th day of February, 1753."* 
 
 Mr. Walpole, in his appeal, moralised over the fall 
 of earthly monarchs, and alluded to the hard fate of 
 Edward II., Richard II., and Charles I. He then 
 described Theodore's career. " When he had 'dis- 
 charged his duty to his subjects and himself, he 
 chose this country for his retirement, not to indulge 
 a voluptuous, inglorious ease, but to enjoy the parti- 
 cipation of those blessings which he had so vainly 
 endeavoured to fix on his Corsicans. . . . Theodore, 
 though resigned to his fortunes, had none of that 
 contemptible apathy which lifted our James II. to 
 the supreme honour, etc. The veracity of an his- 
 torian obliges me not to disguise the situation of his 
 Corsican majesty's revenues, which has reduced him 
 to be a prisoner for debt in the King's Bench. . . . 
 
 * This was in the possession of his granddaughter.
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 151 
 
 The debts on his civil list were owing to no mis- 
 application. . . . His diet was philosophic, his palace 
 humble, his robes decent ; yet his butcher, his land- 
 lady, his tailor, would not continue to supply an 
 establishment which had no demesnes to support it," 
 etc. He then proposed that a benefit-night should 
 be taken in the playhouses, and he was sure that 
 Mr. Garrick would play " the self-dethroned Lear " 
 "a piece which, from some similitude of circum- 
 stances, I should recommend for the benefit, and 
 be a competitor with Louis le Grand for the fame 
 which results from the protection of exiled kings." 
 Thus the King's Bench would " become as renowned 
 for Garrick's generosity to King Theodore as the 
 Savoy is for Edward III/s treatment of King John 
 of France." 
 
 He then announced that Dodsley, the bookseller, 
 was appointed " high treasurer and grand librarian 
 of the island of Corsica for life," and would receive 
 subscriptions. These, he affected to believe, would 
 not be large, owing to the scruples of the champions 
 of hereditary right. There were two pieces of King 
 Theodore's coinage announced as being in " the hands 
 of the high treasurer aforesaid, and will be shown 
 by the proper officers of the exchequer of Corsica." 
 
 The whole of this seems in the worst taste, but 
 is exactly the fashionable tone of the time. We 
 need only recall Lord Chesterfield's letters to the
 
 152 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AX HOUR, 
 
 Dublin printer, George Faulkener, in the same spirit 
 of ungentlemanly irony. It is not surprising to learn 
 that the whole was considered " a good hum," and 
 that even the charitable could not tell whether it 
 was meant for jest or earnest. A note had to be 
 added to the next number, explaining that the whole 
 was serious. The generous Garrick at once gave a 
 night, but the subscription was a failure, producing 
 only 50 ; and it is not wonderful, after being thus 
 introduced, that the ex-king had some dignity left, 
 and seemed to have been deeply hurt at the liberty 
 taken with him. He even sent a lawyer to Dodsley, 
 threatening him with an action. " This, too," says 
 Mr. Walpole, greatly shocked, " after taking the 
 money ; . . . that does not lessen the dirty knavery. 
 . . . But I have done with countenancing kings." 
 Had he said, " with persiflage of kings," it had been 
 more appropriate. It might seem ungrateful on the 
 poor debtor's part to treat Dodsley, who had taken 
 trouble about him, in such a way. But the beggarly 
 pittance, he felt, might have been far larger had it not 
 been for Mr. Dodsley and his friends. A debtor's gaol 
 dulls many more refinements than these. No wonder his 
 son wrote of him that " he sometimes found assistance 
 in the compassion of the humane ; but oftentimes 
 they made a barbarous sport by insulting his fortunes, 
 and accompanying their benefits with abusive jests." 
 Could there be a more piteous complaint ? A couple
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 153 
 
 of years before lie died we find him addressing letters 
 to various patrons. Their tone provokes a smile. 
 
 "!LLME. SEIGNEUR ET HOXORE COUSIN, 
 
 " Although I had not the comfort of receiving 
 an answer from your Excellency, I still venture to 
 flatter myself that you have my interests at heart. 
 Full of this confidence, I have recourse to you, beg- 
 ging all your good offices in my behalf with your 
 friends and relatives to find me the means, by the 
 aid of a subscription, to rescue me from my difficul- 
 ties, beinsr reduced to the last state of wretchedness. 
 
 * O 
 
 Through want of cash I don't know where to turn 
 to, having to put up with the insult of being dragged 
 by my enemies from one jail to another, on habeas 
 corpus, for a debt of twenty guineas, forme par un 
 Busslier, to crush me. I ventured to write to the 
 Duke of Portland, begging him to assist me ; but I 
 had the mortification to learn from my messenger that 
 he was surprised to find that I should think of writing 
 to him, as he knew nothing of me. Unless something 
 is done and you kindly interfere, I can only look 
 forward to see myself perish, actually wanting the 
 common necessaries. 
 " 8 juillet, '54. 
 
 "Under cover to Mr. Da Costa, in Devonshire 
 Square. 
 
 "Deign to send me an answer, and console me."
 
 154 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 " Having recovered somewhat from my wretched 
 sickness, I venture to have recourse to your Excel- 
 lency, asking your good offices in finding me the 
 necessary assistance to secure my release from this 
 terrible imprisonment. My credit is all gone, and I 
 have been obliged by my sickness to sell everything I 
 had, so that I now find myself on the eve of destruc- 
 tion (crev&). In this state of things I implore you 
 to find for me the assistance of a loan of 1000 
 sterling, with which I can settle everything here and 
 set off for your part of the world. Have pity on my 
 deplorable condition, for which I am not in the least 
 responsible, recommending my case to your friends. 
 I am still confined to my bed. 
 
 " To Count Bentinck, May 12, '54." 
 
 A couple more years went by ; and an Act of 
 Parliament being passed for the relief of a batch of 
 insolvents, as was then the custom, Theodore filed 
 his schedule, and was included. There is not a more 
 curious paper on the files of insolvency. 
 
 ~ 'j "A schedule or inventory, containing a 
 
 > full and true account of all debts, effects, 
 to wit. \ 
 
 ) and estates, both real and personal (of 
 
 what kind or nature soever) of Theodore- Stephen 
 de Neuhoff, a German from Westphalia, and late of 
 Mount Street, Grosvenor Square, now a prisoner in
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 155 
 
 the King's Bench prison, and a list of the names of 
 all and every person and persons that are anywise 
 or how much indebted unto him, the said Theodore- 
 Stephen, Baron de Neuhoff, and the witnesses that 
 can prove the same, pursuant to an Act of Parliament 
 made in the twenty-eighth year of the reign of his 
 present majesty, King George the Second, entitled 
 an Act for the Relief of Insolvent Debtors. 
 
 Debtors' names and 
 places of abode. 
 
 Sams due. 
 
 How due, and 
 for what. 
 
 Witnesses and 
 vouchers thereof. 
 
 That he is entitled 
 
 
 
 
 to the kingdom of 
 
 
 
 
 Corsica, and hath 
 
 
 
 
 no other estate or 
 
 
 
 
 effects but in right 
 
 
 
 
 of that kingdom. 
 
 
 
 
 " The above-written is a full and true schedule, 
 as aforesaid, of all my estates and effects whatso- 
 ever, except wearing apparel, bedding for myself and 
 family, working tools and necessary implements for 
 my occupation and calling, and those in the whole 
 not exceeding the value of 10. Witness my hand 
 this 24th day of June, 1755. 
 
 "THEODORE, BARON DE NEUHOFF." 
 
 " A German from Westphalia ! " The law knew 
 nothing of his royalty ; and with a grim humour set
 
 156 KINGS AXD QUEEN'S OF AX HOUR. 
 
 down his airy claim in " a schedule ! " It is worth 
 a whole volume of essays and morals. 
 
 Walpole, however, came forward again, but in 
 quite a different spirit. The sight of this broken, 
 discharged debtor wandering about may have affected 
 him. In a grave and serious tone he appealed once 
 more to the public. This was a true amende, and 
 he seems to have been kind and charitable to the 
 outcast, who made him a present of perhaps the last 
 relic left of his old throne, " the great seal of the 
 kingdom of Corsica." Here is the appeal, from the 
 Public Advertiser : 
 
 "AN ADDRESS TO THE NOBILITY AND GENTRY OP GREAT 
 BRITAIN IN THE BEHALF OP THEODORE, BARON DE 
 NEUHOFF. 
 
 "The Baron, through a long imprisonment, being 
 reduced to very great extremities, his case is earnestly 
 recommended for a contribution to be raised to enable 
 him to return to his own country, having obtained 
 his liberty by the late Act of Parliament. In the 
 late war in Italy the Baron gave manifest proofs 
 of his affection for England ; and as the motives of 
 his coming here are so well known, it is hoped all time 
 friends to freedom will be excited to assist a brave 
 though unfortunate man, who wishes to have an 
 opportunity of testifying his gratitude to the British 
 nation.
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 157 
 
 " Those who are pleased to contribute on this 
 occasion are desired to deposit their benefactions in 
 the hands of Sir Charles Arsgyll, Alderman, and 
 Company, bankers, in Lombard Street ; or with 
 Messrs. Campbell and Coutts, bankers, in the 
 Strand." 
 
 The poor baron's eyes were at last turning to 
 his own country to that corner of Westphalia where 
 he had been born " here to return, and die at home 
 at last." But this attempt was to be as unsuccessful 
 as the former. For some months more he was to be 
 seen wandering about London, and at last would seem 
 to have wandered back to the old prison, where, in 
 December, 1756, the end of that exciting and weary 
 life drew on. It was not a royal ending. With his 
 last sickness on him, he one day called a chair for 
 a ride, and having no money to pay the chairmen, 
 he bade them take him to the Portuguese ambassa- 
 dor's, in South Audley Street. That minister was 
 not at home ; perhaps was not at home for the 
 troublesome applicant whose visits had usually the 
 one aim and object. He then had himself taken 
 to an obscure tailor, living at No. 5, Little Chapel 
 Street, Soho, who had known him in days perhaps 
 a trifle "better." This man humanely took him in. 
 A mortal sickness was upon him. He lingered only 
 two or three days ; and on the llth December he died.
 
 158 KIXGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUPw 
 
 As we pass through that retired street, or alley 
 rather, and look up at the old houses, we always think 
 of the dying moments of that poor wayfarer : how 
 the alternate glitter and squalor of his eventful career 
 must have fluttered before his glazing eyes ; the 
 bright days of glory ; the blue Mediterranean ; the 
 squadrons of vessels ; the roars of the crowd, and the 
 shouts of " Long live Theodore our king ! " and how 
 all this faded out and gave place to the dull walls 
 of the tailor's lodging in Soho. 
 
 We are not surprised to learn " that there were 
 difficulties about his burial " a significant phrase. 
 But Mr. Wright, "an opulent oilman of Compton 
 Street, came forward, declaring that for once in his 
 life he should like to have the honour of burying 
 a king." Thus, even to the grave, this unbecoming 
 burlesque was to follow him. It must be said, too, 
 that it was only in England that this unworthy 
 ridicule was played off on fallen dignity; elsewhere 
 he was always spoken of with compassion and re- 
 spect. There was something, however, that peculiarly 
 "arrided" Cockney sensibility: a Mr. Charron, an 
 artist, whose parents lived in Soho, perfectly remem- 
 bered the corpse lying in state! Even the under- 
 taker's bill was kept and shown as a jest. Here is 
 a copy : 
 
 "Joseph Hubbard, coffin -maker, undertaker, and
 
 THE STOEY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 159 
 
 sworn appraiser, at the Four Coffins and Crown, in 
 New Street, near Bread Street, Carnaby Market, 
 St. James's, Westminster, performs funerals, both 
 public and private, at reasonable rates, and as cheap 
 as anywhere in London. N.B. Buys and sells all 
 manner of household furniture. 
 
 " For the Funeral of Baron Neulioff, King of Corsica, interred in 
 St. Ann's Ground, December 15, 1756: 
 
 " To a large elm coffin, covered with superfine 
 black cloth, finished with double rows of 
 brass nails, a large plate of inscription, two 
 cup coronets gilt, four pair of Chinese con- 
 trast handles gilt, with coronets over ditto, 
 the inside lined and ruffled with fine crape ,-. <l. 
 and inseared . . . . . .660 
 
 A fine double shroud, pillow, and nutts . .0166 
 Four men in black to move the body down .040 
 Paid the parish dues of St. Ann's . . .128 
 Paid the gravedigger's fee . . .010 
 
 Best velvet pall 10 
 
 Use of three gentlemen's cloaks and crapes .046 
 A coach and hearse with pairs . . .0160 
 Cloaks, hatbands, and gloves for the coachmen 070 
 
 Beer for the msn 010 
 
 Attendance at the funeral . . . .026 
 
 10 11 2 
 
 Received in part . . . .880 
 Balance due 232" 
 
 Had Charles Lamb seen this, he would surely 
 have used it as a pendant for his famous bill with its 
 item of " wrought gripes ; " and in fact some of the 
 items, such as "ruffled with fine crape," are the same.
 
 160 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 He was laid in a mean corner in the burying-ground 
 of St. Ann's, Soho, " among the paupers." What a 
 grave for an adventurer ! yet not out of the game of 
 chances which the adventurer plays. 
 
 Mr. Walpole set up a monument to him in 
 St. Ann's, Soho, " surmounted by a crown, taken 
 from one of his Majesty's coins," and with the 
 following inscription : 
 
 NEAR THIS PLACE IS INTERRED 
 
 THEODORE, KING OF CORSICA, 
 
 WHO DIED IN THIS PARISH, DECEMBER 11, 175G, 
 
 IMMEDIATELY AFTER LEAVING THE KING's-BENCH PRISON 
 
 BY THE BENEFIT OF THE ACT OF INSOLVENCY; 
 
 IN CONSEQUENCE OF WHICH HE REGISTERED 
 
 HIS KINGDOM OF CORSICA 
 
 FOR THE USE OF HIS CREDITORS. 
 
 The Grave, great teacher, to a level brings 
 Heroes and beggars, galley-slaves and kings. 
 But THEODORE his moral learn'd ere dead ; \ 
 Fate pour'd its lessons on his livimj head, 
 Bestow'd a kingdom, and deny'd him bread. / 
 
 Almost the same sort of melancholy yet dramatic 
 attraction is offered by the fate and career of the 
 so-called Colonel Frederick, the son of Theodore, a 
 poor adventurer, well known in London towards the 
 end of the last century, and who " hung loose," and 
 very loose, upon society. This hapless being might 
 have also figured in Casanova. He lived forty years 
 in London ; "his figure," we are told, " was familiar
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 161 
 
 to thousands ; his company was courted by many ; 
 and his misfortunes, during the latter portion of his 
 existence, were but too well known to the world ; 
 for it would be vain to deny that the early part of 
 his life is involved in inexplicable mystery. 
 
 "He was with his father during his brief reign 
 in Corsica. A friend who knew him, relates how 
 they took refuge in England ; and Frederick remained 
 with his father during the whole of his residence in 
 this country, and principally contributed to support 
 him while the Corsican king was confined for debt 
 in an English prison. 
 
 "He was afterwards patronised by the late 
 Duke of Wlirtemberg, to whom he was distantly 
 related ; and he was allowed a pension from the 
 court of Wiirtemberg till the duke's death. Before 
 he threw himself wholly on the patronage of the 
 Duke of Wiirtemberg, he lived at the court of 
 Berlin as a kind of reading secretary to the late 
 King of Prussia ; but not being treated with the 
 kindness he had reason to expect, he attached him- 
 self to the duke. "When he asked his majesty's 
 permission to enter into the service of the Duke of 
 Wiirtemberg the King made a faint attempt to retain 
 him ; but, finding that he was resolved, he haughtily 
 said : ' Well, it is right that one beggar should live 
 with another.' 
 
 "The colonel, if we are right in our recollection 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 1G2 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 of his story, married a maid of honour to the great 
 Maria Theresa, Empress of Germany. Frederick 
 had made application to the court of Vienna for 
 some employment through the medium of a recom- 
 mendation to this lady, who was so struck by his 
 person, manners, and good sense, that, as she after- 
 wards acknowledged, she had purposely delayed to 
 urge his application, in order to prolong his attend- 
 ance, and have more frequent interviews with him. 
 At length they married ; but the union did not tend 
 to advance his interest ; on the contrary, it seemed 
 likely to overwhelm him with the cares of a family. 
 The lady did not long partake of his misfortunes, 
 but died soon after having produced a son and a 
 daughter. The son was killed in America as he 
 was gallantly fighting in the service of this country. 
 He was a very handsome and intelligent youth. 
 The daughter is still alive ; and is the heiress of 
 nothing but the misfortunes of her family. She 
 has been married many years, and is now in very 
 untoward circumstances, with three daughters to sup- 
 port. The daughters are very fine and accomplished 
 young women; and one of them is said to possess 
 literary talents of no inferior order." 
 
 There is a short account of Colonel Frederick, 
 drawn up by himself, in the " Me' moires pour servir 
 ti 1'Histoire de Corse": 
 
 " Genoa prevailed. Theodore lost his own liberty
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 163 
 
 because he had endeavoured to defend that of the 
 Corsicans. He was confined for a long time in a 
 disgraceful prison, where he suffered a thousand 
 humiliations without a single murmur. He knew 
 how useless it was to complain, and was conscious 
 of the necessity of submitting to his fate. Deprived 
 of his sceptre, fortune, and friends, his sole resource 
 was in Providence and the tender pity of his son, 
 who repaired to England on purpose to accompany 
 him to Corsica, whither Theodore flattered himself 
 to be able to return once more, and that, too, through 
 the assistance of Great Britain. 
 
 " This son, like himself, was entirely destitute of 
 the gifts of fortune, and he was but ill adapted for 
 the acquisition of wealth, as his temper was little 
 suited to the frivolity of an age avaricious of plea- 
 sure, and anxious for the attainment of riches and 
 honours, even on the most dishonourable terms. 
 Avoiding festivals and public entertainments of all 
 kinds, he was modest in his manners, simple in his 
 dress, tenacious of his words, reserved and close in 
 his mode of life ; in short, he retired, as it were, 
 within himself, in order to live with that virtue of 
 which he scorned to make a parade. He was ac- 
 customed to say, ' That it was proper to know, but 
 not expedient to tell, everything.' Omnia scire, non 
 omnia exequi, was his favourite maxim. 
 
 " He even became an author, and endeavoured 
 
 M 2
 
 164 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 to gain a livelihood by his pen during his distress ; 
 he also taught the Latin, Italian, and Spanish lan- 
 guages, that he might be enabled to maintain his own 
 children, and succour his unfortunate father. 
 
 "His family, with better opportunities of infor- 
 mation, say he was born in 1725, which makes 
 him seventy-two years of age at the time of his 
 death ; and this is not at all unlikely, as he lived a 
 temperate life, and avoided every excess. Indeed 
 he himself seems expressly to assert this in his 
 " Me'moires " : 
 
 "Ensuite il (le Baron de Neuhoff) dpousa lady 
 Sarsfield, fille de Lord Kilmalock, et demoiselle 
 d'honneur de la reine. Le baron concut d'abord 
 de grandes esperances de cette alliance ; mais voyaut 
 dans la suite qu'elles ne r^pondoient pas & son 
 attente, il abandonna sa femme, etant enceinte cVun 
 /Us, qiielle mit au monde Van 1725." 
 
 In another of his own publications he tells us " he 
 was bred a soldier, and had made several campaigns 
 under the most experienced generals of the age." He 
 adds that, when the Corsicans made so gallant a 
 stand in defence of their liberties, "he himself, with 
 Buttafuoco and Colonna, two Corsican gentlemen 
 who had served with distinction in the regiment 
 composed of their countrymen, in the service of 
 France, offered to join Paoli in so glorious a cause ; 
 but he rejected the offer.
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 165 
 
 " He spoke French, German, Italian, and Spanish 
 with great fluency ; and he acquired a considerable 
 degree of perfection even in English. On his first 
 arrival from the Continent, about the year 1754, 
 he betook himself to the teaching of Italian, and 
 subsisted for several years by that means. At this 
 period of his life he got acquainted with many men 
 of considerable celebrity, and Macklin and Garrick 
 are said to have been his scholars. By the latter 
 he was promised great things ; the former he intro- 
 duced to Mr. Wedderburn, the lord chancellor, who 
 at that time wished to get rid of his northern accent, 
 in which he has most effectually succeeded. He 
 himself was also his lordship's instructor. 
 
 " During the confinement of his father he visited 
 him frequently, and is said to have shared his scanty 
 pittance with that unfortunate monarch in a manner 
 that would have done credit to the most affectionate 
 son. 
 
 " By a German lady, whom he married abroad, he 
 had two children ; the one a son, the other a daughter. 
 The first perished at the battle of Germantown ;* 
 
 * We are told that Frederick, " a handsome youth, was intro- 
 duced by the late Sir John Dryden, Bart., then an officer in the 
 Guards, to the present Admiral Sir John Borlase Warren, who 
 was exceedingly kind to, and, at length, actually purchased a com- 
 mission for him. On his arrival in America he was noticed by 
 General Howe, then Commander-in-chief, and advanced to the rank 
 of lieutenant ; but he was soon cut off during the war."
 
 166 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 the other is still alive. I have been repeatedly 
 assured by himself, that he had more than once 
 tasted the bounty of the late Princess Dowager of 
 Wales, who compassionated his misfortunes and those 
 of his family. There is also some reason to believe 
 that her Royal Highness was partly induced, from 
 certain political motives, to patronise him ; for it 
 was rumoured at that time, that the Duke of York, 
 brother of his present Majesty, had conceived the 
 idea of becoming King of Corsica." 
 
 This curious role of managing delicate negotiations 
 was not unprofitable in those days ; and the two dis- 
 sipated princes, then in difficulties, were glad to have 
 recourse to any adroit person who would raise them 
 money. The colonel was employed by the Prince of 
 Wales and his brother of York to try and raise a 
 loan at Antwerp ; and the affair was completed, and 
 their bonds put in circulation. A very awkward 
 business followed, which has never been quite cleared 
 up. It seems certain that the princes received a 
 good deal of the cash, but the bonds were repudiated. 
 And when the creditors began to press, and became 
 clamorous, the Alien Act was set in motion by 
 Government, and the inconvenient creditors sent 
 out of the country. Colonel Frederick was des- 
 patched to Antwerp, to arrange the business. This 
 would appear to have been the De Beaune Loan 
 for 100,000, made in 1790, and which is fully
 
 THE STORY OF THEODOEE OF CORSICA. 167 
 
 explained in Huish's " Life of William IV." There 
 was for sale not long since a letter of Colonel 
 Frederick, in reference to this matter, in which he 
 declares, " I could a tale unfold." 
 
 "After an absence of a few months on the Con- 
 tinent, Frederick returned to London with a riband 
 in his hat. He also occasionally appeared in a green 
 uniform richly laced with silver, and long German 
 epaulets ; and, as he was said to have obtained the 
 brevet rank of colonel from the late Duke of Wiir- 
 temberg, and also the Croix de merite, he was ever 
 after recognised by that appellation. Although not 
 formally acknowledged as his highness's agent in 
 this country, it is well known, however, that he 
 transacted business of a diplomatic nature in his 
 name, and helped him to dispose of a regiment of 
 his subjects to the English East India Company. 
 Towards the latter end of the American war, 
 the colonel also tendered the service of a body 
 of Wlirtembergers, ready disciplined and accoutered ; 
 and he was accustomed to assert that the premier, 
 having cheerfully acceded to the proposition, the 
 troops were actually put in motion, and considerable 
 expenses incurred. On being countermanded, soon 
 after this, by an order from Great Britain, the colonel 
 preferred a claim for bat and forage money, pay and 
 subsistence, amounting to many thousand florins ; and 
 his pretensions were backed by repeated memorials,
 
 168 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 addressed to all the different administrations that 
 have succeeded each other since that period until 
 1797. 
 
 TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR. 
 
 "September 26th, 1793. 
 
 " Your lordship's constant silence to my repeated 
 supplications for some redress to the grievances which 
 I humbly stated in the petition to the King, gives me 
 the concern it ought ; for, as my claim is founded on 
 the principles of honour and equity, and I am per- 
 suaded that no passion has any influence over your 
 lordship's rectitude, I attribute your silence to wrong 
 suggestions. 
 
 " I beg, therefore, in the name of what is sacred 
 in heaven, and most dear to you on earth, that your 
 lordship will be pleased to order a fair inquiry into 
 the facts stated in that petition, which, if they should 
 be found true, as I trust they will, there is no doubt 
 but his Majesty, on your lordship's representation, 
 as the keeper of his conscience, would be graciously 
 pleased to grant me such relief as in his great good- 
 ness he shall deem me entitled to. 
 
 "The voice of humanity, my lord, pleads also 
 the cause of a man well born, liberally educated, and 
 whose conduct he hopes to be without reproach ; a 
 man who, in consequence of the service rendered to 
 the King, stated in the petition alluded to, is reduced
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 169 
 
 so low as to want literally bread, who has had the 
 honour to be your instructor, has given proofs of his 
 disinterested attachment to your person, and is with 
 
 profound respect, 
 
 "Your lordship's, etc." 
 
 He thus wearied out successive officials with his im- 
 portunities, but at last succeeded in extracting 100. 
 
 He was ever good-natured and sympathetic, as his 
 visiting the unfortunate Dr. Dodd proves. The latter 
 wrote to him from his prison : 
 
 " Accept, dear sir, my best thanks for your very 
 humane and consolatory visit, and permit me to 
 assure you that I have conversed with few whose 
 sentiments have been so satisfactory to me, and so 
 familiar to my own. Life has no charms amidst this 
 dreadful shipwreck which I have brought upon my- 
 self; and death, through my unshaken confidence in 
 redeeming mercy, few terrors. 
 
 " Yet I think it my duty to do all I can to pre- 
 serve that life ; and I will, from the depth of my soul 
 in sincerest truth declare to you, that my first and 
 chief wish for its preservation springs from an ardent 
 desire to perfect my repentance, and to show to man- 
 kind the sincerity of that repentance by a conduct 
 the most humble, holy, and exemplary. Deeply con- 
 vinced and humbled to the dust for my manifold
 
 170 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 offences, nothing wounds my heart so much as the 
 sad sense of public scandal and offence to our divine 
 religion ! And I unceasingly beg of God to grant me 
 a little time to show to all the world that I am, 
 indeed, not more sensible of my sins than solicitous 
 to wipe away every stain they have occasioned. 
 
 " Pardon, dear sir, this effusion of my sentiments 
 drawn forth by a sympathetic interest you kindly 
 discover for my welfare. At such a dreadful hour as 
 this it is impossible to dissemble ; and I bless God 
 that I live every moment, as I wish to live every 
 future moment, always in His presence and always 
 most thankfully resigned to His will. I shall be 
 extremely happy to see you again, sir, whenever your 
 humanity will permit you to visit so doleful a man- 
 sion as this ; and if in the meantime you would 
 be so indulgent to me as to favour me with a copy 
 of the King of Prussia's lines, which you repeated 
 (and to ask for which was indeed the only cause of 
 this trouble), you will greatly oblige, 
 
 " My good sir, one of the most unfortunate 
 and truly distressed of men, 
 
 " W. D. 
 "April 27, 1777." 
 
 " His dress was plain, but neat ; he usually wore a 
 blue coat with a red cape, white cloth waistcoat and 
 breeches, and in winter a pair of military boots, with
 
 THE STORY OF THEODOEE OF COKSICA. 171 
 
 a loose blue great coat. Sometimes he put on a 
 black suit, manufactured abroad, the dye of .which 
 he was accustomed to commend as infinitely prefer- 
 able to that of England ; and it must have possessed 
 some extraordinary properties, as it had retained the 
 undiminished lustre of its original tint for at least 
 ten or fifteen years. 
 
 "There is scarcely a coffee-house in the city of 
 Westminster in which the Colonel's face was not 
 familiar, and he visited two, and sometimes three, 
 every day, particularly the Salopian, the Cannon, 
 and Mill's in Gerrard Street. He lived for many 
 years in Northumberland Street, in the Strand, and 
 had a number of little harmless peculiarities. He 
 never put on a pair of shoes until the maid had 
 scrubbed the house in them and worn them for a 
 fortnight. If he dined at one place he was sure to 
 take his tea at another. He was wonderfully ab- 
 stemious both in eating and drinking ; his reckoning 
 was accordingly proportionately small, seldom ex- 
 ceeding two shillings and sixpence. He never was 
 seen with more than half-a-guinea at a time ; and, 
 on being asked the reason by a friend, he replied : 
 'that this great town was full of distressed men, 
 many of whom he knew ; and if he was discovered 
 with anything worth borrowing he should be asked 
 for it, and could not refuse.' 
 
 "His finances, during many years, were in a
 
 172 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 deranged state ; and, for some time before his demise, 
 he had been occasionally supplied with little sums 
 from various friends. Being a great economist, his 
 expenses were small ; but, notwithstanding this, he 
 had contracted several trifling debts, and one in 
 particular to an amount which subjects a man's body 
 to the rigours of a jail. In short, he was in daily 
 danger of being arrested ; and thus became prevented 
 from frequenting those places and persons rendered 
 dear to him by custom. 
 
 "Another object, of no small concern to a feeling 
 mind, occupied and agitated his thoughts. This was 
 the situation of his daughter, Mrs. Clark, a lady who 
 had also her full share of misfortunes. His grand- 
 daughters too were grown up, but remained wholly 
 unprovided for. It had been the colonel's custom to 
 visit them frequently, and on all occasions, when it 
 suited his convenience, he was sure to make little 
 presents to the family. 
 
 "As it now became dangerous to remain any 
 longer at his lodgings in Northumberland Street, in 
 the Strand, where he had resided during many years, he 
 repaired to Waghorn's Coffee-house, under the House 
 of Lords, and communicated his fears to a woman, 
 who permitted him during that night to sleep in 
 another house belonging to her in the neighbourhood. 
 In the morning he repaired to the attorney of the 
 plaintiff, who had issued out a writ against him, to
 
 THE STORY OF THEODORE OF CORSICA. 173 
 
 solicit a little delay ; but he was refused this in a 
 brutal manner. He then asked a friend for the 
 loan of twenty pounds ; but receiving a plain refusal 
 became distracted at his situation. His misfortunes 
 now multiplied every hour, and his calamities became 
 at length so great that he determined to put an 
 immediate end to his existence. It was at this critical 
 moment that he is supposed to have written the fol- 
 lowing melancholy note on a slip of paper : 
 
 " All the curses in the tragedies are fallen upon 
 me : without a house, without a country, without a 
 friend ; having for enemies even those men whom I 
 have obliged ; incumbered with debts, and so poor 
 that I live only from day to day ; and sometimes I 
 have nothing to live on. 
 
 " To these I have opposed magnanimity to distress, 
 nature to law, and reason to the troubles of the soul. 
 
 " Having procured and loaded a pistol, and being 
 no longer apprehensive of the myrmidons of the law, 
 whose power he could now set at defiance, he arose 
 at the usual hour in the morning of Wednesday, 
 February 1st, 1796, and walked out in his customary 
 manner, without exhibiting any signs of agitation, or 
 betraying any symptoms of his dreadful purpose to 
 those whom he accosted. 
 
 " Towards the afternoon he proceeded to Storey's 
 Gate Coffee-house, Westminster, a place often fre- 
 quented by him, where he dined. He then called for
 
 174 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUE. 
 
 his half pint of port a quantity he rarely exceeded, 
 looked over the morning papers, asked for and perused 
 an evening one, and departed at eight o'clock with his 
 accustomed serenity. 
 
 Having then repaired straight to the gate of West- 
 minster Abbey, which is in the immediate vicinage, 
 he pulled out the instrument of destruction from his 
 pocket, and applying it to his temple, drew the fatal 
 trigger, and in a moment ceased to exist." 
 
 Such was the sad fate of father and son the 
 stage king and his son both dying in want and 
 despair.
 
 LADY HAMILTON.
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 
 
 ADMIRERS of Romney have noticed a kind of con- 
 ventional female head among his conceptions a 
 coaxing, beseeching face turned to the left, as if 
 looking into some pitiless countenance which it was 
 trying to fascinate. It may be seen at the National 
 Gallery. In annuals, in mezzotints, as Nymph, or 
 Grace, or Bacchante, this one face often recurs. It 
 is that of Emma, Lady Hamilton, one of the most 
 remarkable women that ever lived, and on whose 
 character the prestige and honour of England rested 
 in a way that has been little suspected. The 
 face seems to signify little more than passive in- 
 fluence the influence of soft and seductive and 
 imploring looks, showing little of the woman of mind 
 and intellect. In most of Romney's pictures it lurks 
 in a sort of sly ambuscade. His nymphs, goddesses, 
 maidens, all imperfectly disguise Emma Lyons. She 
 VOL. r. N
 
 178 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR 
 
 perfectly infatuated three men of mark Romney, 
 Sir William Hamilton, and the greater Nelson. 
 
 A woman who had been painted no less than 
 three-and-twenty times by an artist of the powers 
 of Romney who had sat twice to Sir Joshua, twice 
 to Hoppner, twice to Lawrence, and three times to 
 Madame Le Brun might excite interest and curiosity. 
 Such a face must have had some irresistible charm ; 
 and admirers of Nelson might appeal to it as some 
 faint excuse for his weakness. 
 
 England was represented at Naples, for many 
 years at the end of last century, by Sir William 
 Hamilton, a man of good connections and of remark- 
 able tastes. He was the foster-brother of George III., 
 a collector, in days when collectors of antiquities were 
 few ; and a diligent inquirer into geology, and in 
 accordance with principles of accurate observation 
 which belong to the modern school. Mount Vesuvius 
 was one of his hobbies, which he was said to have 
 visited and explored some twenty times. The " Trans- 
 actions " of the day are full of his researches ; and he 
 gives us a good idea of the dilettante of his time, who 
 employed the artist and collector as his deputies. 
 He thus acquired a magnificent collection of Greek 
 vases, which became famous over Europe ; all which 
 he had engraved and published in one of those sump- 
 tuous works by which rich amateurs loved to prove 
 their genuine passion for art. To this fashion we owe
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 179 
 
 , those noble " Galleries," whose grand plates, paper, 
 and type are now a feast for the eye, and by which 
 means the fortunate owners of a picture-gallery or 
 museum made those in far-off countries admire and 
 envy what they could not hope to visit. In course of 
 time, however, it was discovered that the English 
 ambassador was combining his taste and knowledge 
 with profit. He sold his own collection to the country 
 he represented for 7000/., and immediately began 
 collecting a fresh one, which was by-and-by offered 
 over Europe, backed by the prestige of one great 
 country having already purchased his first gallery. 
 Wedgwood reproduced these models in his admirable 
 ware, and declared that its sale abroad had brought 
 three times that sum into England. It was scarcely 
 dignified, and not surprising that the French should 
 sneer, and say that it was not so much that he pro- 
 tected the arts as that they protected him. He was, 
 besides, a musician of taste, and an ardent sportsman 
 of the English type a taste thoroughly congenial to 
 the strange monarch at whose court he was accredited. 
 
 O 
 
 We learn from the many travellers who passed by 
 Naples how eccentric were the royal proceedings : 
 how the queen held the gayest court in Europe, in- 
 dulging in odd freaks and strange partialities, think- 
 ing of nothing but amusement ; and how the king, 
 half boor, half devotee, gave himself up to sports 
 and tremendous battues, and would make any letter 
 
 N 2
 
 180 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR 
 
 he wrote to his wife nothing but a simple game 
 list. 
 
 Sir William arrived there in 1764, and with his 
 first wife added to the agrements of the place. She 
 was a famous performer on the pianoforte or harpsi- 
 chord, giving the best concerts, and at which she had 
 the finest musicians. A clever and friendless young 
 Irishman, Kelly, sent to study music in Italy, was 
 kindly patronised by her, and made to sing that 
 "genteelest of tunes," "Water parted." When a song 
 from the "Duenna" introduced him to the palace, Ferdi- 
 nand asked with a wise air, "Was he a Christian ?" 
 He had one refined taste, however, and could act in 
 private theatricals with the queen, and was considered 
 to play, with spirit ; not, however, on every stage, 
 as all who came to him on business, or to ask a favour, 
 were told to " speak to the Lady." 
 
 Thus busy with his vases and music, the ambas- 
 sador passed many years. That agreeable Frenchman, 
 Dutens, author of the " Voyage ur qui se repose," recalled 
 pleasant evenings at this house. But by 1782 wife 
 and daughter were dead, and Sir William was left a 
 widower. Shortly afterwards he repaired to England, 
 after an eighteen years' absence ; and when he came 
 out again, some amazement, though no scandal, was 
 caused by his being accompanied by a lady who was 
 not his wife. At any other court, the matter would 
 nave ended in the withdrawal of the ambassador ;
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 181 
 
 and certainly it seems strange that a purist court like 
 that of England should allow itself to be thus repre- 
 sented. But at Naples it was only a few smiles and 
 shrugs ; and the face that had been painted by so 
 many artists was held to be the best excuse for the 
 Adonis of fifty. 
 
 This was the famous Emma Lyons, whose history 
 up to this period had best be hurried over as quickly 
 as can be. She was born in 1764, and was the 
 daughter of very poor people, who were colliers, in 
 Wales. Her mother, left a widow, went to live with 
 her own family, colliers also ; and it was said that the 
 little girl had been often seen walking beside a donkey 
 laden with coal for sale. In some short memoir, 
 which she was said to have dictated or inspired, she 
 said Lord Halifax had her educated in a superior 
 manner a statement refuted by that indifferent spell- 
 ing and English which she never got rid of to the end 
 of her life. At thirteen we find her a sort of child's 
 governess or maid, at the house of a Mrs. Thomas. 
 Three years later she got to London as a shop-girl, in 
 St. James's Market, where she soon attracted atten- 
 tion, and a lady took her for a maid a Mrs. Budd, 
 who lived in Chatham Place. It is curious that at 
 this Mrs. Budd's there should have been a fellow- 
 servant, who afterwards went on the stage, and 
 acquired great reputation as Mrs. Powell. Not less 
 singular is it to read of the renewed friendship of
 
 182 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 this pair of former servants. A letter written when 
 both were in the height of their prosperity, has been 
 preserved : 
 
 "Dear Lady Hamilton," wrote the actress, "I 
 cannot forbear writing a line to inform your lady- 
 ship I am at this place (Southend), and to tell you 
 how much your absence is regretted by all sorts of 
 people. Would to Heaven you were here to enliven 
 this, at present, dull place ! Please remember me to 
 all at Merton." 
 
 Mrs. Budd's was a gay house, where balls and 
 parties were always going on something more like 
 what she longed for. Here she read novels, and paid 
 stolen visits to playhouses, and was presently turned 
 away. She was next seen at a tavern frequented by 
 artists and actors, where she acquired that wonderful 
 dramatic taste and pantomimic action for which she 
 became so celebrated ; and, like Garrick when a 
 youth, she would go through a whole series of 
 attitudes and declamations for her histrionic admirers 
 at the tavern. It was there that "the female of 
 whom we are speaking " to use the valet-like phrase 
 of the person who put together her memoirs heard 
 of the impressment of a young Welshman whom she 
 liked; and she went to Captain Payne afterwards 
 the Admiral Payne, so well known as a man of 
 pleasure, and friend of the Prince of Wales to 
 intercede for her friend. Such intercession was only
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 183 
 
 too successful, and fairly started her on the career 
 that suited her. 
 
 The idea of her having assisted to illustrate the 
 quack Graham's lectures is considered to be com- 
 pletely disproved by dates.* Graham exhibited 
 during the years 1780-84. Now Emma Lyons (or 
 Harte) was at the time servant to the Mrs. Budd we 
 have named, and had also been in the houses of Captain 
 Payne and Sir H. Featherstonehaugh. But these 
 numerous employments within so short a space do not 
 at all disprove, but rather confirm, the story, as one 
 more employment might have been readily found in 
 addition to the others ; and this same argument might 
 have been used to show she could not have been at 
 Captain Payne's. The story is indeed very likely to 
 be true, when we consider that she was Eomney's 
 permanent model, and that she acquired celebrity for 
 her shawl-dance " attitudes." 
 
 Angelo, the fencing master, gives a sketch of this 
 quack : 
 
 " When that rage and curiosity which encouraged 
 Doctor Graham, about the year 1783, at his temple of 
 health, Pall Mall, began to subside, he imposed on 
 the credulous, part of the public with his earth-bath 
 exhibition in Panton Street, Haymarket. I was pre- 
 sent at one of his evening lectures upon the benefits 
 
 * Mr. Paget, in his paper on Lady Hamilton (" Paradoxes," 
 etc., p. 228), and Dr. Doran, take this view.
 
 184 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 arising from earth bathing (as he called it), and in 
 addition to a crowded audience of men, many ladies 
 were there to listen to his delicate lectures. In the 
 centre of the room was a pile of earth, in the middle 
 of which was a pit, where a stool was placed : we 
 waited some time, when much impatience was mani- 
 fested, and after repeated calls, ' Doctor, Doctor ! ' 
 he actually made his appearance en chemise. After 
 making his bow he seated himself on the stool ; when 
 two men with shovels began to place the mould in the 
 cavity ; as it approached to the pit of his stomach he 
 kept lifting up his shirt, and at last he took it entirely 
 off, the earth being up to his chin, and the doctor 
 being left in puris naturalibus. He then began his 
 lecture, expatiating on the excellent qualities of the 
 earth-bath. Whether it was that the men felt they had 
 had quite enough of his information, which had lasted 
 above an hour, or the hearers got tired, or some 
 wags wished to make themselves merry at the doctor's 
 expense, we cannot say ; but there was a cry of 
 ' Doctor, a song, a song ! ' The doctor nodded assent, 
 and after a few preparatory hems, he sang, or rather 
 repeated : 
 
 Ye fair married dames, who so often deplore, 
 That a lover once blest is a lover no more, 
 
 Mrs. Abingdon's song in ' The Way to keep Him.' 
 The doctor was a tall, handsome man, about forty, his
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 185 
 
 manners pleasing, and much information was derived 
 from his lectures, in their way. It will perhaps 
 hardly be believed that such an exhibition would 
 have been permitted in what is called an enlightened 
 country ; it was, however, not only tolerated, but 
 received much encouragement from persons who 
 possessed great influence in the fashionable world." 
 
 But there was this sign of grace shown in Emma's 
 character : almost as soon as she was established 
 " in splendour," she sent for her mother the former 
 servant and at once established her as " Mrs. 
 Cadogan ; " and from that time was never separated 
 from her. In this, as in many other instances, she 
 bears a curious likeness to Peg Woffi ngton ; having the 
 same good heart, the same spirit, the same accomplish- 
 ments, and a dramatic power, though of far lower 
 degree.* She had the wild but good heart of the 
 clever actress, who also was careful of her mother. 
 
 Mr. Timbs quotes a curious letter of hers to an 
 old friend. " Mrs. Burt," he says, " the lady to whom 
 the letter is addressed, was well acquainted with 
 Emma Lyons when she was a barefooted girl residing 
 at Hawarden, near Chester, and gaining a livelihood 
 by driving a donkey, laden with coals and sand for 
 sale. Mrs. Burt, having occasion to come to London, 
 
 * Why Mrs. Lyons became " Mrs. Cadogan " does not appear. 
 There was a gentleman of that name who figured in the arrange- 
 ments after the death of Lady Hamilton.
 
 186 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 brought Emma with her at the request of Mrs. Lyons, 
 then occupying some situation in the household of 
 Sir W. Hamilton. (Emma is also said to have begun 
 life in the metropolis as a barmaid, at The Coach and 
 Horses Inn, in Flood Street, Westminster, but to have 
 been discharged for misconduct.) When, in the course 
 of time, the little barefooted girl became Lady 
 Hamilton, she, during her absence from England, 
 occasionally wrote to her old friend and former 
 protectress ; but so far as is known, this is the only 
 one of those letters now in existence, and is in 
 the possession of a grandson of Mrs. Burt. It is 
 addressed: 'M rs Burt, at M r Boberts, no. 16 upper 
 John 8 Street, Marlebone, London.' 
 
 "Caserta, near Naples, dec br 26 th 1792. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Burt, I Receved your very kind 
 Letter this morning & am surprised to hear my poor 
 .dear grandmother can be in want, as I left her thirty 
 pound when I Left england besides tea sugar & several 
 thing 8 and it is now five weeks since I wrote to a 
 friend of ours, & endeed a relation of my husbands to 
 send twenty pound more so that my Grandmother 
 must have had it on cristmas day, you may be sure 
 I should never neglect that dear tender parent who I 
 have the greatest obligations to, & she must have 
 been cheated or she never cou'd be in want, but you 
 did very Right my dearest friend to send her the four
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 187 
 
 Guines which I will send you with enterest & a 
 thousand thanks endeed I Love you dearly my dear 
 M Burt & I think with pleasure on those happy days 
 I have pass'd in your Company, I onely wait for an 
 answer from our friend with the account of my grand- 
 mothers having Receved her twenty pounds & I will 
 then send you an order on him for your money, & I 
 send a piece of Silk to make you a gown we send it 
 in the ship Captain newman, who sails for england 
 this month, but my next letter I will send you a bill 
 of Loading. I wrote you a Long Letter Last march, 
 but I am affraid you never got it, which I am sorry 
 for as their was a Long account of my reception 
 at the Court of naples, endeed the Queen has 
 been so Kind to me I cannot express to you she 
 as often invited me to Court & her majesty & nobility 
 treats me with the most kind and affectionate regard. 
 I am the happiest woman in the world my husband is 
 the best & most tender of husbands & treats me and 
 my mother with such goodness & tenderness, endeed I 
 love him dearly, if I cou'd have my dear grandmother 
 with me, how happy I shou'd be, but gods will be 
 done, she shall never want & if she shou'd wish for 
 any thing over above what I have sent her Let her 
 have it & I will repay you with entrest and thanks, you 
 see my dear M re Burt in a year and 2 months she will 
 have had fifty pounds theirfore I have nothing to Lay 
 to my charge, I write to M Thomas who Lives on the
 
 188 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 spot, & who I hope will see she is kindly used, I enclose 
 this in a friends Letter to save you the postage which 
 is very dear. I will write to you as soon as we have 
 Receved the answer that the twenty pounds are re- 
 ceved & I then will say more about M r Connor, my dear 
 mother desires her best Love to you & your Brother, 
 & pray present my Compliments to him & when you 
 write to Michell say every thing thats kind from us to 
 him. Miss Dodsworth, M re Greffor now, is brought to 
 bed & the King was god father and made her a present 
 of a Gold watch set in pearls twelve Sylver Candlesticks, 
 a Sylver tea board & Sylver coffey pot Sugar Basen, 
 &c. &c. She is a very good wife and M r Greffor is a 
 good man & the King is very fond of him when the 
 Court is at Caserta we go with them and I see 
 M Greffor often. Sir "William is now on a shooting 
 party with the King, the Queen is at Caserta & 
 our family is now there we onely Come to naples for 
 a few days. I am now at Caserta, we have a good 
 many english with us the duchess of ancaster Lord & 
 Lady cholmondly Lady plymouth Lady webster Lady 
 Forbes, &c. &c. they all dined with me yesterday. I 
 expect Sir William home to night. God Bless you 
 my dear M Burt, & thank you for all your goodness 
 write soon & believe me your ever true and affectionate 
 
 friend 
 
 "EMMY HAMILTON. 
 
 " Direct for Lady Hamilton at naples."
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 189 
 
 The original is written in a bold hand, but not 
 with the freedom of a practised writer. 
 
 It is to the credit of Lady Hamilton, that in her 
 prosperity she was neither ashamed of her origin nor 
 unmindful of her friends. Young Burt, the son of 
 Mrs. Burt, and articled to an engraver, was a frequent 
 guest at Merton, where he sat at table with the great 
 Nelson himself, and has heard Lady Hamilton de- 
 light her company with songs celebrating the deeds 
 of the hero, and amuse them with reminiscences of her 
 village life. 
 
 We may pass over the various unpleasant shifts 
 and changes in her history a disagreeable subject. 
 She enjoyed the favour and "protection" of various 
 gentlemen of fashion, and thus gradually struggled 
 out of the depths of poverty. She at last, as we 
 have seen, attracted the notice of Sir William 
 Hamilton, the ambassador, whom she was eventually 
 to marry, and with him repaired to Naples. 
 
 She was thus withdrawn from public notice, and 
 devoted herself to improving her mind and repairing 
 the defects of her education. Her wonderful gifts 
 
 o 
 
 soon began to develop ; and at private parties given by 
 Sir William she sang in a manner that delighted all. 
 
 O O 
 
 The most curious performance was what might be 
 called her poses plastiques, when she would stand up 
 in the drawing-room, and snatching a shawl or a piece 
 of stuff, would, by a series of striking and intensely
 
 190 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 dramatic attitudes, convert herself into a Roman 
 matron, a bayadere, a nymph, or represent grief, joy, 
 or terror. This was also a favourite effect of Garrick's, 
 who would stand up and "go through his rounds," 
 as he called it. Her elderly patron was the most 
 enraptured of all the delighted spectators ; and he 
 employed a German artist, named Rechberg, to sketch 
 all these various attitudes in outline, like the drawings 
 of Flaxman's figures. These were published in a large 
 volume, and are curious, though not very remarkable. 
 The rage for caricature which then prevailed in 
 England could not let so tempting an opportunity 
 pass ; and later a series of plates, of the same size, 
 appeared, representing the same attitudes as per- 
 formed by a very stout lady. 
 
 Goethe, at this time on his Italian travels, came to 
 Naples ; and, ever susceptible to female charms, gives 
 this enraptured description of her : " She is very 
 handsome, and of a beautiful figure. The old knight 
 has had made for her a Greek costume, which 
 becomes her extremely. Dressed in this, and letting 
 her hair loose, and taking a couple of shawls, she 
 exhibits every possible variety of gesture, expression, 
 and look ; so that at last the spectator almost fancies 
 it is a dream. One beholds here, in perfection, in 
 movement, in ravishing variety, all that the greatest 
 of artists have rejoiced to be able to produce. 
 Standing, kneeling, sitting, lying down, grave or
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 191 
 
 sad, playful, exulting, repentant, menacing, anxious 
 all mental states follow rapidly one after the other. 
 With wonderful taste she suits the folding of her veil 
 to each expression, and with the same handkerchief 
 makes every kind of head-dress. The old knight 
 holds the light for her, and enters into the exhibition 
 with his whole soul. He thinks he can discern in her 
 a resemblance to all the most famous antiques, all the 
 beautiful profiles of the Greek coins ay, of the 
 Apollo Belvedere itself. This much at any rate is 
 certain : the entertainment is unique. We spent two 
 evenings on it with thorough enjoyment." 
 
 This performance of hers, the shawl-dance, she 
 always gave with great fire and piquancy. Feeling, 
 however, that she had greater gifts than these, and 
 longing for a field more worthy of her talents, she 
 made all these fascinations turn to the one end 
 that of an honourable position ; and at last pre- 
 vailed so far, that in 1791 they set off for England 
 with the intention of being married. It has been 
 generally repeated that this marriage took place at 
 St. George's, Hanover Square ; but Mr. Paget dis- 
 covered that it was celebrated at St. James's Church, 
 Marylebone, having found the registry. The witnesses 
 were the Marquis of Abercorn and Mr. Dutens. This 
 ceremony took place in 1791, and characteristically 
 enough, the signature to the registry runs, "Amy 
 Lions." The lady was twenty-seven ; her husband, sixty.
 
 192 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AX HOUR. 
 
 Great efforts were made to have the new Lady 
 Hamilton presented at court ; but this was sternly 
 refused. Even on the day of the marriage Sir William 
 had a private interview with the King, who mentioned 
 the report of the marriage, and said he hoped it 
 was not true. The minister answered that it had 
 taken place that morning. The fashionable world, 
 however, gathered round, once she had secured her 
 "patent," and flocked about her; and for them she 
 went through her little performance. Gallini, of the 
 Opera-house, offered her two thousand a year and two 
 benefits. 
 
 The greatest homage to her influence was the 
 extraordinary passion with which she inspired Komney, 
 the fashionable painter, then living in Cavendish 
 Square. Her face, or some reminiscence of it, is found 
 in nearly all his pictures. Her vanity and satisfaction 
 at this sort of homage must have been excessive, 
 when we find, as we have related, that she sat 
 to her admirer for so many picture-portraits for 
 Bacchantes, Calypso, wood-nymphs, Magdalenes, and 
 even for the devotional St. Cecilia. Some irresistible 
 spell forced his brush to limn this one face. This 
 extraordinary and almost unique passion of Romney's 
 was to offer a very pitiable contribution to the history 
 of such infatuations. His friend Hayley, the original 
 of the aesthetic school now in fashion, has frankly 
 recorded the stages of this weakness : his delight when
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 193 
 
 the goddess was in good humour, his despair when 
 she was the reverse. It must be said his representa- 
 tions of her are charming ; and he seems to have had 
 a particular gift for representing the mouth, which 
 was exquisitely formed, short, and round. A few 
 extracts from the painter's letters will show how he 
 was affected. 
 
 "August 8th, 1791. 
 
 " In my last letter I think I informed you that I 
 was going to dine with Sir William and his lady. 
 In the evening of that day there were collected round 
 people of fashion to hear her sing. She performed in 
 both the serious and comic to admiration, both in 
 singing and acting ; but her ' Nina ' surpasses every- 
 thing I saw, and I believe as a piece of acting 
 nothing ever surpassed it. The whole company were 
 in an agony of sorrow. Her acting is simple, grand, 
 terrible, and pathetic. My mind was so much heated 
 that I was for running down to Eastbourne to fetch 
 you up to see her. But, alas 1 soon after, I thought I 
 discovered an alteration in her conduct to me ; a 
 coldness and neglect seemed to have taken the place 
 of her repeated declarations of regard for me. They 
 left town to make many visits in the country ; I 
 expect them again the latter end of this week, when 
 my anxiety for I have suffered very much will be 
 either relieved or increased, as I find her conduct. 
 
 VOL. i. o
 
 194 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 It is highly probable none of the pictures will be 
 finished, unless I find her more friendly than she 
 appeared the last time I saw her. I had it in con- 
 templation to run down for a day or two, and bring 
 you up with me ; and I mentioned it to her. She 
 said, ' Do so,' but in a cold manner ; though a fort- 
 night before, when I said I should do so, she was 
 very desirous I would bring you to town." 
 
 Things brightened a little by August the 29th. 
 " Cassandra came to town on the 16th, and I did 
 not see her till the 20th ; so you may imagine how 
 my feelings must have suffered. She appointed to 
 sit on the 23rd, and has been sitting almost every 
 day since. When she arrived, she seemed more 
 friendly than she had been. I began a picture of 
 her, as a present for her mother. I am very suc- 
 cessful with it ; for it is thought the most beautiful 
 head I have painted of her yet. Now, indeed, I 
 think she is as cordial with me as ever. 
 
 " I think it excessively kind in you to enter so 
 deeply into my distresses. Eeally, my mind has 
 suffered so very much that my health was much 
 affected; but, since she has resumed her former kind- 
 ness, my health and spirits are quite recovered. She 
 performed at my house last week, singing and acting, 
 before some of the nobility, with the most astonishing 
 power. She is the talk of the whole town, and
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 195 
 
 really surpasses everything, both in singing and 
 acting. " 
 
 After this divinity had returned to Naples, the 
 painter reverted to his avocation ; but he soon sank into 
 ill-health and dejection of mind. He was invited to 
 pay his friends a visit at Naples, but could not go. 
 When they came to him in 1800, he was suffering 
 too much to renew their old intimacy. " The 
 pleasure," he wrote, " I should receive from a sight 
 of the amiable Lady Hamilton would be as salutary 
 as great ; yet, I fear, unless I should enjoy more 
 strength and better spirits, at a better time of the 
 year, I shall never be able to see London again." 
 
 He died soon after ; but his pictures remain, and 
 have helped, in the most important way, to give 
 immortality to his Emma. 
 
 When we think that this woman had been lifted 
 out of the very mud and dregs of London, and was 
 now an ambassadress performing the part of the 
 affectionate wife, the friend and adviser of the queen, 
 and no more than twenty-eight years old, the riddle 
 of her character* becomes more and more perplexing. 
 A kind and affectionate disposition, however, is often 
 a good guide and guarantee for reform ; and it is 
 certainly in her favour that every one, including all 
 the bold sea-captains and admirals held her in regard. 
 Lord St. Vincent begs " she will continue to love 
 
 him," and assures her that no man respects and 
 
 o 2
 
 196 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 esteems her more. Sir A. Ball protests : "I cannot 
 help loving and esteeming you very much, though 
 you have proved such a false gipsy." Trowbridge 
 thinks " she will spoil them all." These " sea-dogs " 
 were not attracted by her charms, but felt she was a 
 true Englishwoman, and, like themselves, was fighting 
 for the country with an undaunted spirit. Her affec- 
 tion, too, for her coarse, old, unpresentable mother 
 whom she never would separate from is another 
 evidence of a good heart. And yet, when we think 
 of the really noble character of Nelson his sense of 
 duty, his courage, his love of his country, his really 
 heroic nature, and even his strong sense of natural 
 piety one is drawn to apply a less harsh measure to 
 his folly, and to presume that there must have been 
 some extenuation unknown and unseen. One motive, 
 certainly, was the belief in the loyal exertions of his 
 friend, which, like his own, were devoted to his 
 country, and, like his own, exerted with extraordinary 
 success. 
 
 "Another of Lady Hamilton's chief attractions," 
 says Mr. Pryce Gordon, "was her hair, with which, it 
 is well known, she played wonderful tricks in her 
 attitudes. I have more than once witnessed these 
 exhibitions. On one occasion, being desirous to 
 astonish a gentleman who had just arrived, and had 
 not heard of her ladyship's attitudinal celebrity, she 
 dropped from her chair on the carpet, when sitting
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 197 
 
 at table after dinner. The comb which fastened her 
 superabundant locks had been removed, and nothing 
 eould have been more classical or imposing than this 
 prostrate position. Sir William started up to open 
 a little of the curtain in order to admit the proper 
 light, while the stranger flew to the sideboard for 
 water, with which he plentifully sprinkled the faint- 
 ing dame, before he discovered that it was a scena 
 (and not a fit, as he thought) which had been got 
 up. ' You have spoiled, my good friend/ said the 
 knight, ' one of the most perfect attitudes that Emma 
 ever executed how unlucky ! ' ' " She is the most 
 extraordinary compound I ever beheld," wrote the 
 agreeable Sir Gilbert Elliott in 1796. " Her person 
 is nothing short of monstrous for its enormity, and 
 is growing every day. She tries hard to think size 
 advantageous to her beauty, but is not easy about it. 
 Her face is beautiful ; she is all nature, and yet all 
 art ; that is to say, her manners are perfectly un- 
 polished, of course very easy, though not with the 
 ease of good-breeding, but of a barmaid ; excessively 
 good-humoured, and wishing to please and be admired 
 by all ages and sorts of persons that come in her 
 way ; but besides considerable natural understanding, 
 she has acquired, since her marriage, some knowledge 
 of history and of the arts, and one wonders at the 
 application and pains she has taken to make herself 
 what she is. With men her language and conversa-
 
 198 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 tion are exaggerations of anything I ever heard 
 anywhere." 
 
 In September, after she and Sir William had left 
 England to return finally to Naples, she at once took up 
 a remarkable position. Another adventurer Acton, 
 an Englishman of good family, had extraordinary 
 influence at court, and with him she took care to 
 cement a firm alliance ; but with the Queen she 
 became a favourite in the most extravagant sense 
 of the term. 
 
 They had a charming villa, commanding a 
 panorama of the bay, in full view of the volcano, 
 which Sir William had explored so patiently; and 
 there some of the gayest parties and junketings went 
 forward. Sir Nathaniel AVraxall found his way to 
 Naples when wandering from court to court, and 
 gives a very graphic description of the strange society. 
 He describes Sir William as a tall, meagre man ; 
 very dark, and with an aquiline nose. Miss Knight 
 describes him as "a little man." He was inde- 
 fatigable in vigorous sport up all night at balls, 
 yet the next day away hunting and shooting with 
 the King, harpooning fish in the rivers and yet past 
 sixty years of age. 
 
 The partiality of the Queen for his wife increased 
 every day. They affected the liking of sisters, dressed 
 in the same colours, slept in the same room. She had 
 the right of entree at any hour, and without announce-
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 199 
 
 merit. It was scarcely wonderful that the jealousy of 
 the court ladies should have been aroused, or that 
 they should have at last worked up the Queen to 
 resent her too arrogant exercise of such privileges. 
 One day the visitor was stopped at the door by one 
 of the royal pages, and informed that her Majesty 
 was engaged. An extraordinary scene was said to 
 have taken place ; and not an improbable one, con- 
 sidering the character of these two women. Lady 
 Hamilton forced her way in, and began to reproach 
 the Queen for this affront. The other, indignant, 
 burst into fury. Billingsgate could hardly supply 
 the terms which the two ladies showered on each other. 
 The whole culminated in a blow from the Queen, 
 promptly returned by the ambassadress, who had not 
 forgotten her training at the tavern. The King was 
 present, and roared at the scene, which ended in a 
 renewed friendship. 
 
 With such a society the whole tone of the place 
 may be guessed. Sir William himself was a sort of 
 elegant professor of natural religion, and would write 
 to his wife in this comfortable strain : " The whole 
 art is to live all the days of our life; admire the 
 Creator and all His works, to us incomprehensible ; 
 do all the good we can on earth, and take the chance 
 of eternity," etc. Under these convictions the name 
 of Lady Hamilton might never have reached beyond 
 the humble notoriety of being recorded in a traveller's
 
 200 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 note-book or memoirs as the free but attractive am- 
 bassador's wife, had not the great name of Nelson 
 been coupled with it ; and it certainly had been well 
 for the fame of the hero had his duty kept him any- 
 where but in those Italian waters. Visitors to the 
 court brought away curious stories about the King's 
 strange humours; but it would seem that, with all 
 these eccentricities, he combined a sort of taste for 
 letters and an earnestness for more serious matters 
 which was redeeming. Proof of this is a very curious 
 little red volume, with its vile Italian printing and 
 viler paper, which appears to be a code of rules for a 
 sort of religious and moral confraternity. The King's 
 name is on the title-page as author. But equally 
 curious is the inscription at the beginning : " Given 
 to me by the King of Naples at Belvidere or S. 
 Leucio, the 16th May, 1793, where Sir William and 
 I dined with his Majesty and Duchess of Devon- 
 shire, Lady Plymouth, Lady Besborough, Lady E. 
 Forster, Sir George Webster, Mr. Pelham. EMMA 
 HAMILTON."* It will be noted that the old defects 
 of spelling had not been cured, though Nelson would 
 
 * There is a letter in the beginning of Grenville Sharpe's book 
 stating this to be one of the " most interesting pieces " he had ever 
 met with. He thought of translating it. A copy of this little 
 royal volume, with the note of Lady Hamilton on the fly-leaf, is 
 in the British Museum.
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 201 
 
 reassure her in this seamaulike fashion: "You lie 
 (what your goodness often told me] ; I can read and 
 perfectly understand every word you write." 
 
 The power of fascination which this singular 
 woman exerted over everyone she met, was indeed 
 extraordinary. We have seen how she affected the 
 unhappy painter. But the devotion of her husband 
 was quite as remarkable. His letters to her are full 
 of a deep affection, tempered with much good sense 
 and a strain of excellent advice, without any attempt 
 at lecturing or "preaching." Thus, when he went 
 away with the King on one of his shooting expe- 
 ditions, he would write to her a vast number of 
 these agreeable letters, describing the dejection of his 
 Majesty when no game was found: "another long- 
 faced day," he would add. Thus, from Persano, in 
 1792, we find him sending her the following : 
 
 " I was sorry, my dear Em, to leave you in 
 affliction. You must harden yourself to such little 
 misfortunes as a temporary parting; but I cannot 
 blame you for having a good and tender heart. 
 Believe me, you are in thorough possession of all 
 mine, though I will allow it to be rather tough. 
 Let us study to make one another as comfortable 
 as we can, and ' banish sorrow 'til to-morrow,' and 
 so on every day. You are wise enough to see the
 
 202 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AX HOUR. 
 
 line you ought to take, and have, hitherto, followed 
 it most rigorously ; and I can assure you, that I have 
 not the least doubt of your continuing in it." 
 
 Again : 
 
 " I am glad all goes on so well. I never doubted 
 your gaining every soul you approach. I am far 
 from angry at your feeling the loss of me so much ; 
 nay, I am flattered; but believe me, the time will 
 soon come that we shall meet. Years pass seemingly 
 in an instant. Why then afraid of a few days ? 
 
 "It was not your white and silver alone that 
 made you look like an angel at the Academy. I 
 will allow, however, that a beautiful woman, feeling 
 herself well dressed, will have a sort of confidence 
 which will add greatly to the lustre of her eye ; but 
 take my word, that for some years to come, the more 
 simply you dress, the more conspicuous will be your 
 beauty which, according to my idea, is the most 
 perfect I have yet met with, take it all in all. . . . 
 
 " I am glad you have been at the Academy, and 
 in the great world. It is time enough for you to 
 find out that the only real comfort is to be met with 
 at home. I have been in that secret some time. 
 You are certainly the most domestic young woman 
 I know ; but you are young and most beautiful, and 
 it would but be natural if you did not show yourself 
 in public. The effusion of tenderness with regard
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 203 
 
 to me, in your letter, is very flattering. I know 
 the value of it, and will do all I can to keep it 
 alive. . . . 
 
 " You did admirably, my dear Em, in not inviting 
 Lady A. H. to dine with the Prince, and still better, 
 in telliog her honestly the reason. I have always 
 found that going straight is the best method, though 
 not the way of the world. In short, always consult 
 your own good sense ; and do not be in a hurry, and 
 I am sure you will always act right. Adieu, my 
 lovely Emma." 
 
 In the month of September, 1793, Captain Nelson 
 arrived in the Bay of Naples. He was married to a 
 good and indulgent wife, to whom he was deeply 
 attached. Long after, he owned that his wedding- 
 day had been the happiest of his life. On this 
 occasion his first acquaintance with the English 
 minister and his wife he found the former " a good- 
 natured friendly man." Sir William was much struck 
 by the future hero. He made the prophecy- which 
 has often been repeated about the "little man" 
 who would one day astonish the world. It is quite 
 plain that no very great impression was made upon 
 Nelson at this time. He had not yet achieved his 
 series of victories, and his love for his wife was still 
 fresh and strong. Of Lady Hamilton he wrote to 
 his wife : " She has been wonderfully good and kind
 
 204 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 to Josiah. She is a young woman of amiable man- 
 ners, and who does honour to the station to which 
 she has been raised." 
 
 When the curtain next rises the revolutionary 
 spirit was strong everywhere, and the crown of 
 Naples insecure. Nelson was eagerly looking for the 
 French ; and it was then that this bold woman per- 
 formed a remarkable service, namely, procuring news 
 of the secret intentions of Spain to declare war on 
 England, and sending it home. The story ran that 
 Lady Hamilton had noticed the emotion of the King 
 of Naples on receiving this letter, and had bribed a 
 page, or obtained the aid of the Queen, to get it from 
 his pocket. It is just as likely that she heard the 
 news from the Queen. Sir William, talking with 
 Wraxall, assumed the credit of the discovery which, 
 of course, as a discreet diplomatist, he would do ; but 
 the news not having come through such an official 
 channel, ministers at home might naturally decline to 
 recognise such irregular service, which could not be 
 publicly dealt with. Nelson, in his will, declared that 
 she was entitled to the credit of the proceeding ; and 
 gave a solemn charge to the British people not to 
 let it go unrewarded. This expression of the wish of 
 so faithful and gallant a servant should have been 
 enough, without prying too closely into the niceties, 
 or the probability that so infatuated a lover would 
 have accepted and believed any story told him by the
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 205 
 
 woman who had enslaved him. It is certain, however, 
 that the warning was received through the agency of 
 the British minister at Naples; and it must be 
 assumed to be no more than a praiseworthy and 
 zealous exercise of his duty. 
 
 She sent a copy home by express to Lord Gren- 
 ville, at a cost out of her own pocket of four hundred 
 pounds, and that nobleman at once availed himself of 
 her information. 
 
 Two or three years more passed by, and then came 
 round that exciting time for the great sea-captain, 
 when the French fleet proved as bewildering a 
 mystery as the Flying Dutchman ; when no one 
 could tell where they were lurking or " skulking," 
 as the British tar would say and Nelson was dis- 
 tracted with the uncertainty. Nearly all the ports 
 were shut to the English ; and even friendly nations 
 had about as much dread of sheltering or harbouring 
 an English war-ship as respectable people would have 
 of giving asylum to anyone under the ban of the law. 
 Nelson wrote a good deal to his friends at Naples, 
 sometimes a note to both to Sir William and Lady 
 Hamilton but oftener to Sir William, and without 
 any allusion to Lady Hamilton. Then came that 
 crisis, when it was safety or destruction for Nelson 
 that he should have liberty to victual his ships in 
 Italian ports, as the treaty with France forbade the 
 admission of more than two ships into any Neapolitan
 
 206 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 port. He was just starting on that famous chase which 
 ended only in the great battle that destroyed the 
 French navy ; and the timorous Ferdinand was 
 trembling through dread of the " Corsican ogre." 
 
 This scene is truly dramatic. One morning the 
 brave Trowbridge roused Sir William from his bed, 
 with a letter from Nelson, begging that leave would 
 be got for him to provision his ships, otherwise he 
 would have to make for Gibraltar, and thus miss 
 the French. It was all important. A council was 
 hastily summoned by the King ; but the fear of the 
 French was too strong, and they decided that nothing 
 could be done. Then it was that the spirit of the 
 intrepid Emma rose. Falling on her knees to the 
 Queen, she prayed, wept, argued, and at last succeeded 
 in obtaining a letter of permission, with which 
 Trowbridge set off. The splendid well-known battle 
 followed ; yet this brave woman she who performed 
 this service was suffered by her .country to die in 
 want and exile. 
 
 Sir Harris Nicholas refuses to allow Lady Hamil- 
 ton any share in this transaction, and while crivin^ 
 
 o o 
 
 admission to letters that seem to prove it, insinuates 
 they have been forged. This prejudice blinds him 
 even to understanding the case. His grounds are 
 these : when Nelson was leaving the port, he wrote to 
 the Hamiltons that all his wants had been supplied ; 
 but he was "tormented because no private orders
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 207 
 
 have been given by the Government for the ad- 
 mission of my ships. But, thanks to their exertions, 
 he had victualled and watered." Now, Sir Harris 
 Nicholas says there is an inconsistency between this 
 acknowledgment and the other passage about "no 
 private orders being given," and says the one was most 
 likely fabricated to found a claim for Lady Hamilton. 
 But he has confounded two different things the 
 
 o 
 
 admission into the port, and the difficulty of victual- 
 ling ; and Nelson's complaint only referred to the 
 former. In the codicil to his will he distinctly gives 
 her the whole credit of the matter. And, finally, 
 there is Lady Hamilton's MS. note in the letter-book: 
 " The Queen's letter, privately got by me, got him 
 and his fleet victualled and watered in a few days." 
 
 When Nelson returned triumphantly after this his 
 great victory, in September, 1798, a series of dazzling 
 scenes awaited him ; and the Circe of the place 
 seemed then called on to exert her charms to enslave 
 the hero and conqueror. The whole city had been in 
 a fever of expectation as to the result of the battle. 
 When the news arrived, the enthusiastic ambas- 
 sador jumped from his carriage to stop a cardinal 
 with whom he was not acquainted no other indeed 
 than the Cardinal York with a certain lack of 
 delicacy. In a few clays the English fleet was ap- 
 proaching, and King and Queen, ambassador and wife, 
 all went out to greet the hero. The scene was most
 
 208 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 dramatic, the greeting enough to turn any head. 
 Nelson wrote the whole in a sort of excited way to 
 his wife. The news of his coming had been "im- 
 prudently told to her : it was like a shot ; she fell 
 apparently dead." This incident had of course only 
 been related to him. " Alongside came my honoured 
 friend. . . . The scene in the boats was terribly 
 affecting : up flew her ladyship, exclaiming, ' my 
 God, is it possible ? ' and fell into my arms more 
 dead than alive.' This remarkable letter is leavened 
 with some passages to allay the reasonable misgivings 
 of a wife. ' What must this be to my dearest wife, 
 my friend, my everything which is most dear to me 
 in the world ! I hope," he goes on, ' to have one day 
 the pleasure of introducing you to Lady Hamilton. 
 She is one of the best of women in the world ; she is 
 an honour to her sex.' * 
 
 The name of Nelson appeared everywhere ; and 
 the whole service of china bore his initials, "H. N." 
 There was nothing but feasts and revelry, with the 
 one hero and heroine moving through the gay throng. 
 Lady Hamilton wrote an obsequious letter to the 
 absent wife, full of news about Nelson, recounting 
 the honours paid to him, enclosing an ode. The 
 King had his picture painted and set round with 
 diamonds ; a whole service painted with views of his 
 great battles. Sir William is in a rage with ministers 
 for not having made Lord Nelson a Viscount. "Hang
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 209 
 
 them, I say ! " she added ; and in this familiarity to a 
 lady she had not seen and did not know, the old 
 vulgar copper comes through the plating. But this 
 deprecation was not of much avail. Already rumours 
 and open talk had reached England of the strange 
 proceedings at Naples, of the follies of the commander 
 of the English fleet. Good-natured friends wrote to 
 him delicately and considerately ; and one hinted at 
 Lady Nelson's uneasiness, " who swears she will join 
 you at Naples." However, he could stoop to write 
 back letters about his pride in being her husband. 
 But all had little effect. He still lingered on in 
 these dangerous waters until near another year had 
 gone by. 
 
 At that birthday-ball a scene took place which 
 should have awakened Nelson to the folly of his pro- 
 ceedings. A young fellow, a son of Lady Nelson by 
 a former marriage, had long secretly resented this 
 treatment of his absent mother, and whether from 
 wine or Nelson's conduct, broke out publicly with 
 some violent language against Lady Hamilton. The 
 brave Trowbridge was at hand, and got him away ; 
 but in any other court there had been a scandal. 
 Something should be done ; and later the lady herself 
 undertook to soothe this ungracious man. Nelson 
 wrote home to his wife the happy result of these 
 efforts, and their joint obligations to Lady Hamilton ! 
 
 When the French came to punish the violation of 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 210 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOTJE. 
 
 the treaty, it was this intrepid woman that planned 
 the escape of the pitiably helpless royal family. It 
 was she who explored the subterranean passages 
 through which the jewels and property were conveyed 
 away ; and it was she who showed a true courage and 
 gallantry in the most perilous situation. 
 
 We now come to the execution of Caraccioli, 
 discussed with so much temper and partisanship. 
 The events of the story are well known. The royal 
 family had fled from the revolution ; but Cardinal 
 Kuffo and the royal troops had nearly reduced the 
 insurrection when Nelson entered the bay. He 
 annulled the capitulation, which had been almost 
 concluded, and, on the recapture of the old chief had 
 him tried and hanged the same day. There were a 
 violence and an indecorous hurry in his proceedings 
 excusable in so decisive a commander, but which 
 become significant when we think of the infatuation 
 and influence which were working on him. The parti- 
 sanship of the English ambassador and his wife was 
 unbecoming the representative of a foreign nation, 
 they being more the hated partisans of the King at 
 whose court they were. They were with Nelson ; 
 and no English commander before or since has volun- 
 teered to act as executioner for the ally whom he was 
 assisting. 
 
 All the steps in the business point to some in- 
 fluence that was not like the character of Nelson.
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 211 
 
 His own officer, Captain Foote, had joined in the 
 armistice ; and yet he turned on him and branded 
 what he had done as " infamous." Cardinal Kuffo, a 
 true fighting patriot, was for the capitulation ; and 
 a remarkable scene took place between him and 
 Nelson on board the vessel, with Lady Hamilton and 
 Sir William, acting as interpreters, and, it was said, 
 putting strange words into the cardinal's mouth. 
 There was a firmness about the latter, on the side of 
 mercy and honour, which nothing could. shake, and 
 which contrasts strongly with the blustering which 
 seems like the consciousness of having acted wrongly. 
 This question of Lady Hamilton's being " present " 
 at the execution of Caraccioli, and being rowed with 
 Nelson " to take another look " at the unfortunate 
 man then swinging from the yard, has been matter of 
 discussion. For this story Mr. Paget maintains that 
 there is not the least foundation ; and quotes Sir 
 Francis Collier, who was in the Foudroyant at the 
 time, and who says it was " an arrant falsehood ; " 
 also a declaration of Lord Northwick's to Mr. Mulready 
 that he was sitting at dinner with Lady Hamilton in 
 the cabin of the Foudroyant when they heard the gun 
 announce the execution. But surely there are fair 
 foundations for saying that "she was present." She 
 was on board one of the vessels from which the 
 execution could be seen. She was a devoted partisan 
 of Nelson's and of the Queen. It was unlikely that 
 
 p 2
 
 212 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 she would shut herself up in the cabin to avoid the 
 spectacle, while, if she appeared on deck at all, it 
 would naturally be said she was " looking on." 
 
 " A ludicrous circumstance," says Mr. P. Gordon, 
 who, moreover, vouches for the story of going to see 
 the body of Caraccioli, " occurred at dinner on the day 
 of the execution, which I had from Mr. L , consul- 
 general, who was present. There was a roast pig at 
 the bottom of the table, which was dissected by the 
 admiral's secretary, and when the head was cut off, 
 Lady Hamilton fainted ! On recovering, she said, 
 sobbing : ' That it put her in mind of her dear 
 Caraccioli.' Her ladyship, however, who was an 
 amateur of this savoury dish, ate heartily of it ay, 
 and even of the brains ! " 
 
 The scene of pleasure that followed the junket- 
 ings, galas in which the great admiral figured like 
 some Antony, and lingered on with his indignant tars 
 and fleet, is truly humiliating. There were fancy balls, 
 where Lady Hamilton appeared as Victory, her dress 
 embroidered with the names of Nelson's victories. The 
 Sicilians even gave him a nickname. The English 
 men-of-war were made to form processions for plea- 
 sure-parties, with the barges and galleys tricked out 
 for theatrical shows. Now she appears in the admiral's 
 own boat dressed as Cleopatra ; he sitting beside her, 
 and twelve tars rowing with scarcely concealed con- 
 tempt. Even the King declined to take part in the
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 213 
 
 show ; but went in a boat by himself, shooting at the 
 birds ! What a picture ! At one of the banquets in 
 his ship's cabin, something like shame at the degrading 
 part he was playing made Nelson start up and hurry 
 to the deck, which he paced in great agitation ; but 
 he was followed by the siren and soothed back again. 
 It was no wonder that the honest Trowbridge should 
 write him a manly and touching appeal, speaking as 
 it were for the fleet. His sincere esteem, he said, 
 was his excuse ; then goes on bluntly : " I know you 
 can have no pleasure sitting up all night at cards. 
 . . . Why sacrifice your health, purse, comfort ? 
 Your lordship is a stranger to half that happens, or 
 to the talk it occasions. If you knew what your friends 
 feel for you ! . . . I beseech your lordship, leave off." 
 Such an expostulation might well have brought a 
 blush to his cheek ; but it seems to have had no 
 effect. The "talk it occasions" referred to the hiring 
 of Italian boats for stores, etc. transacted, it was 
 said, through the favourite and " bits of patronage " 
 in her hands. 
 
 It was scarcely wonderful that the envoy, or 
 possibly his wife, should have been recalled. Sir 
 William was eager to arrange for a handsome pen- 
 sion of 2000Z. a year. He considered himself badly 
 treated, and wrote to Nelson complaining, and talking 
 of "my poor Emma." 
 
 " On his return to Naples," says Mr. Gordon, " he
 
 214 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 was surprised to read in the French Moniteur ' that a 
 peace had been concluded,' of which he knew nothing ! 
 This apathy at last roused our cabinet, and Mr. 
 Wyndham, the envoy at Florence, was despatched to 
 Naples to investigate into this extraordinary measure. 
 The knight was discovered to be (what had been long 
 known) an elderly gentlewoman, incapable of filling 
 any official situation, and was ordered home, Mr. Paget 
 being sent out as his successor ; but the revolution at 
 Naples detained him some time longer in office. He 
 emigrated with the court to Sicily, of which he made 
 a profitable job ; Lord Nelson having given him a 
 large vessel to transport his furniture and effects to 
 Palermo, and an officer to superintend the embarkation 
 of every article contained in his hotel." We still find 
 Nelson writing to the lady as "the first of her sex :" 
 " You never ask favours but for your friends ; in 
 short, from every point of view, from ambassa- 
 dress to the duties of domestic life, I never saw your 
 equal." 
 
 It was said that the Queen was very eager to 
 detain Lady Hamilton, offering her a large pension. 
 A statue of her was executed in marble for the King, 
 as a Venus or nymph. A more singular honour was 
 the gift of the Cross of Malta from the emperor, the 
 first time such an honour was paid to an English lady. 
 She wrote to her own government for permission to 
 wear it, but was treated with a mortifying silence
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 215 
 
 Indeed, at home, eyes were being opened, rather late, 
 to the proceedings of the minister and his wife ; and 
 there was great talk of compromised interests and 
 moneys wasted. All this, it will be seen, would only 
 tie tighter those conventional " silken fetters " in 
 'which Nelson was bound. It also explains some of 
 the grumbling and complaints against " the way he 
 was treated " by those in authority. 
 
 That progress home is unpleasant to think o 
 The Queen, Sir William and Lady Hamilton, and 
 the admiral, with the agreeable diarist, made up 
 the strange party. They came by way of Leghorn, 
 and made for Vienna; where the unhappy English 
 admiral was dragged through a series of fetes at the 
 skirts of this extraordinary woman. Great honours 
 were paid him. The whole party were entertained by 
 Prince Esterhazy with almost barbaric honours. Miss 
 Knight's bombastic ode, " Britannia's Leader gives the 
 dread Command," was put into Haydn's hands to set 
 to music ; and it was performed before a large com- 
 pany. Not so honourable a position for the gran 
 maestro was his having to sit at the harpsichord and 
 accompany Lady Hamilton while she sang it in honour 
 of the hero. 
 
 A bookseller of Leicester Square has a little volume 
 of Moliere, with the following extraordinary inscription, 
 which he has been kind enough to copy. It illustrates 
 our heroine's character in the most singular way :
 
 216 KINGS AXD QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 " Given to me by Miss Knight, whom I thought 
 good and sincere. We succoured, cherished, and 
 protected her and her mother, Lady Knight, and 
 brought them off from Naples to Sicily, when Lady 
 Knight died. My dear mother took Miss Knight to 
 our house, Sir William and self being then at the 
 re-taking of Naples, with Nelson. We gave shelter 
 to Miss Knight for near two years ; we brought her, 
 free of expense, to England. What has she done in 
 return? Ingratitude God forgive her! for, although 
 she is clever and learned, she is dirty, ill-bred, un- 
 grateful, bad-mannered, false, and deceiving. But 
 my heart takes a noble vengeance I forgive her. 
 
 "EMMA HAMILTON." 
 
 The book is marked " E. C. K.," in gilt letters on 
 the cover outside, and has Miss Knight's own name, 
 " Ellis Cornelia Knight," written on the title. 
 
 Her passion was gambling, which was marked 
 by various observers. "Nelson and the Hamiltons 
 were there," says the young Lord FitzHarhs ; 
 " we never sat down to dinner or supper less 
 than sixty or seventy persons, in a fine hall, 
 superbly illuminated ; in short, the whole in a 
 most princely style. Nelson's health was drunk 
 with a flourish of trumpets and firing of cannon. 
 Lady Hamilton is, without exception, the most 
 coarse, ill-mannered, disagreeable woman I ever
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 217 
 
 met with. The Princess, with great kindness, had 
 got a number of musicians, and the famous Haydn, 
 who is in their service, to play, knowing Lady 
 Hamilton was fond of music. Instead of attending 
 to them, she sat down to the faro table, played 
 Nelson's cards for him, and won between 300Z. and 
 400/. He told me he had no thoughts of serving 
 again ; in short, I could not disguise my feeling, and 
 joined in the general abuse of her. 
 
 " Nelson and the Hamiltons all lived together, in 
 a house of which he bore the expense, which was 
 enormous, and where every sort of gaming went on 
 half the night. Nelson used to sit with large parcels 
 of gold before him, and generally go to sleep, Lady 
 Hamilton taking from the heap without counting, and 
 playing with his money to the amount of 500. a 
 night. Her rage is play ; and Sir William says when 
 he is dead she will be a beggar. However, she has 
 about 30,000/. worth of diamonds from the royal 
 family, in presents. She sits at the councils, and 
 rules everything and everybody." 
 
 Mr. Rushout, who was on board the flagship of 
 Lord Nelson when the royal family emigrated, gives 
 us a lively description of the disasters which occurred. 
 The King, he said, seemed quite reconciled to his fate 
 when he embarked, continued on deck till midnight, 
 and conversed familiarly with the officers, who knew 
 Italian or French. Shortly after they got undo
 
 218 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AX HOUR. 
 
 weigh, the wind shifted to the tramontane/, (north), 
 when his Majesty observed to Sir W. Hamilton : 
 "We shall have plenty of woodcocks, cavaliere; 
 this wind will bring them it is just the season, and 
 we will have rare sport (bella caccia). You must get 
 your cannone ready ;" and, summoning his principal 
 cacciatore (gamekeeper), the two entered into a long 
 discussion about woodcocks. The wind, however, 
 increased with heavy squalls, accompanied by vivid 
 flashes of lightning, the sure forerunner of a storm in 
 the Mediterranean. At length it blew so hard that 
 the sails were split into atoms, the sea rose mountains 
 high, and the ship was considered in such danger 
 during the hurricane, that preparations were made to 
 cut away the mainmast, after the loss of the foreyard. 
 The terror and consternation of the royal party and 
 their followers may be easily imagined. The youngest 
 prince, a child six years old, actually fell a victim to 
 fright, having died in convulsions. The Queen and 
 Lady Hamilton, soothed by the kind care and atten- 
 tions of the gallant admiral, conducted themselves 
 with firmness. 
 
 Mr. Pryce Gordon was in Italy at this time, and 
 saw and heard a good deal of this strange party during 
 these exciting scenes. Some of his recollections have 
 grotesque airs, as, for instance, his introduction to 
 Lady Hamilton : 
 
 " The cavaliere retired, but shortly returned, enter-
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 219 
 
 ing by a porte battante, and on his arm, or rather his 
 shoulder, was leaning the interesting Melpomene, her 
 raven tresses floating round her expansive form. 
 What a model for a Roman matron ! but alas ! poor 
 Emma was indisposed, ' dying,' she said, ' of chagrin 
 for the loss of her beloved Naples ; ' yet the roses on 
 her cheek prevailed over the lilies, and gave hopes 
 that her grief would not prove mortal. The ceremony 
 of introduction being over, she rehearsed in a subdued 
 tone a melange of Lancashire and Italian, detailing 
 the catalogue of her miseries, her hopes, and her 
 fears, with lamentations about the dear Queen, the 
 loss of her own charming palazzo and its precious 
 contents, which had fallen into the hands of the vile 
 republicans. But here we offered some consolation, 
 by assuring her ladyship that every article of the 
 ambassador's property had been safely embarked in 
 an English transport, and would be despatched in a 
 few days. All this, we afterwards learned, she knew, 
 as the vessel had actually arrived. During this in- 
 teresting conversation the lady discovered that she 
 was Lord Montgomery's cousin, and, appealing to her 
 husband, said ' A'nt us, Sir William ? ' His lordship 
 made his bows and acknowledgments, and we were 
 invited to dinner, her ladyship regretting 'that her 
 small house could not accommodate him ; ' (it was a 
 place of fifty rooms at least). The hero of the Nile 
 now came forth from a corner where he had been
 
 220 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR 
 
 writing, and cross-examined us about Naples. After 
 a few trifling queries about the burning of the gun- 
 boats, Lord Nelson said to me : ' Pray, sir, have you 
 heard of the battle of the Nile ? ' I thought this a 
 strange question, and could not help imagining for a 
 moment that the great hero meant to quiz me ; but 
 I replied with equal gravity, 'that I had heard of 
 two battles of the Nile, and that I had perhaps done 
 more honour to them and to his lordship than any 
 other individual as far as wine could testify loyalty ; 
 for I had quaffed at least half-a-dozen bottles on the 
 occasions/ adding, ' that having been at Pisa in July, 
 an account had been sent from Leghorn of a great 
 victory at the mouth of the Nile, which was celebrated 
 by a party of Englishmen, when it was discovered 
 that the news was a fabrication, and I got a headache 
 for nothing ; but this did not deter me from assisting 
 at the celebration of the glorious victory, when it did 
 happen, a few weeks after.' I know not what his 
 lordship thought of this speech, but he replied : 
 ' Tliat battle, sir, was the most extraordinary one 
 that was ever fought, and it is unique, sir, for three 
 reasons ; first, for its having been fought at night ; 
 secondly, for its having been fought at anchor ; and 
 thirdly, for its having been gained by an admiral with 
 one arm.' To each of these reasons I made a profound 
 bow ; but had the speech been made after dinner, I 
 should have imagined the hero had imbibed an extra
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 221 
 
 dose of champagne. It is very singular, however, 
 that he made the very same harangue to the Lord 
 Mayor of London the following year, when a sword 
 and the freedom of the city were presented to him." 
 "Shortly after our arrival we dined with our 
 ambassador. In the evening a stranger was an- 
 nounced as having arrived, bearing a despatch from 
 the Emperor Paul of Russia : the messenger was a 
 Turk. Lady H., with her usual tact, recommended 
 Lord Nelson, for whom the despatch was destined, to 
 clothe himself in his pelisse and aigrette to receive 
 the Turk. This was done in a moment. The party 
 moved to a salle de reception. The folding-doors 
 were thrown open, and the Mussulman entered. The 
 moment he caught a glance of his lordship's costume, 
 the slave was prostrate on the earth, making the 
 grand salaam. This was the scene her ladyship had 
 anticipated, and it was got up with stage effect. The 
 credentials being delivered were found to contain an 
 autograph letter from Paul, complimenting the hero 
 on the glories he had achieved ; and, in testimony of 
 his Majesty's regard, the Emperor of all the Kussias 
 desired his acceptance of a gold snuff-box, on which 
 was the imperial portrait. The letter (in French) 
 was read to the assembly, and the present exhibited. 
 It was superb, of chaste gold ; the portrait was set 
 with large brilliants a gift worthy of an Emperor. 
 Lady H , by means of a Greek interpreter belong-
 
 222 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AX HOUR. 
 
 ing to the embassy, flirted with the Turk, a coarse 
 savage monster; and he was invited to dinner the 
 following day to drink the health of the Emperor. 
 
 " The only memorable event which occurred at 
 the minister's entertainment was this warrior getting 
 drunk with rum, which does not come under the 
 prohibition of the prophet. The monster, who had 
 the post of honour at her ladyship's side, entertained 
 her, through the interpretation of the Greek, with an 
 account of his exploits ; among others, that of having 
 lately fallen in with a French transport, conveying 
 invalids and wounded soldiers from Egypt, whom he 
 had brought on board his frigate ; but, provisions and 
 water having run short, he found it necessary to get 
 rid of his prisoners, and amused himself by putting 
 them to death. ' With this weapon,' said he, in his vile 
 jargon, and drawing his shabola, ' I cut off the heads 
 of twenty French prisoners in one day ! Look, there 
 is their blood remaining on it ! ' The speech being 
 translated, her ladyship's eye beamed with delight, 
 and she said : * Oh, let me see the sword that did the 
 glorious deed 1 '' It was presented to her ; she took 
 it into her fair hand, covered with rings, kissed it, 
 and handed it to the hero of the Nile. Had I not 
 been an eye-witness to this disgraceful act, I would 
 not have ventured to relate it. 
 
 " Mrs. C s L e, the beautiful and amiable 
 
 wife of our consul-general, was sitting vis-d-vis to the
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 223 
 
 Turk, and was so horrified at the scene (being near 
 her accouchement) that she fainted, and was taken out 
 of the room. Her ladyship said it was a piece of affec- 
 tation, and made no efforts to assist her guest ; the- 
 truth is, she was jealous of her beauty, and insinuated 
 
 that, being a sister of the late Lord E F , 
 
 she must necessarily be a Jacobin. N.B. She wore 
 green ribbons. The toadeaters applauded, but many 
 groaned and cried ' shame ' loud enough to reach the 
 ears of the admiral, who turned pale, hung his head, 
 
 and seemed ashamed. Lord M got up and left 
 
 the room, and I speedily followed. Poor Nelson was 
 to be pitied ; never was a man so mystified and 
 deluded!" 
 
 Mrs. St. George, mother of archbishop Trench, 
 gives some lively and even amazing sketches of the 
 "doings" that went on at this time. 
 
 " Oct. 3. Dined at Mr. Elliot's, with only the 
 Nelson party. It is plain that Lord Nelson thinks 
 of nothing but Lady Hamilton, who is totally occupied 
 by the same object. She is bold, forward, coarse, 
 assuming, and vain. Her figure is colossal, but, 
 excepting her feet, which are hideous, well-shaped. 
 Her bones are large, and she is exceedingly embon- 
 point. Her eyebrows and hair are dark, and her 
 complexion coarse. Her expression is strongly 
 marked, variable, and interesting ; her movements 
 in common life ungraceful ; her voice loud, yet
 
 224 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AX HOUR 
 
 not disagreeable. Lord Nelson is a little man, 
 without any dignity. Lady Hamilton takes posses- 
 sion of him ; and he is a willing captive, the most 
 submissive and devoted I have seen. Sir William 
 is old, infirm, all admiration of his wife, and never 
 spoke to-day but to applaud her. 
 
 " Oct. 7. Breakfasted with Lady Hamilton, and 
 saw her represent in succession the best statues and 
 paintings extant. She assumes their attitude, expres- 
 sion, and drapery with great facility, swiftness, and 
 accuracy. Several Indian shawls, a chair, some 
 antique vases, a wreath of roses, a tambourine, and 
 a few children, are her whole apparatus. She stands 
 at one end of the room, with a strong light to her 
 left, and every other window closed. Her hair 
 (which, by-the-by, is never clean) is short, dressed 
 like an antique, and her gown a simple calico chemise, 
 very easy, with loose sleeves to the wrist. She 
 disposes the shawl so as to form Grecian, Turkish, 
 and other drapery, as well as a variety of turbans. 
 Her arrangement of the turbans is absolute sleight- 
 of-hand, she does it so quickly, so easily, and so well. 
 It is a beautiful performance, amusing to the most 
 ignorant, and highly interesting to the lovers of art. 
 The chief of her imitations are from the antique. 
 Each representation lasts about ten minutes. It is 
 remarkable that, though coarse and ungraceful in 
 common life, she becomes highly graceful, and even
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 225 
 
 beautiful, during this performance. It is also singular 
 that, in spite of the accuracy of her imitation of the 
 finest ancient draperies, her usual dress is tasteless, 
 vulgar, loaded, and unbecoming. Her ruling passions 
 seem to me vanity, avarice, and love for the pleasures 
 of the table. She shows a great avidity for presents, 
 and has actually obtained some at Dresden by the 
 common artifice of admiring and longing. 
 
 " Oct. 8. The Electress will not receive Lady 
 Hamilton, on account of her former life. She wished 
 to go to court, on which a pretext was made to avoid 
 receiving company last Sunday, and I understand 
 there will be no court while she stays. Lord Nelson, 
 understanding the Elector did not wish to see her, 
 said to Mr. Elliot : ' Sir, if there is any difficulty of 
 that sort, Lady Hamilton will knock the Elector 
 down.' She was not invited in the beginning to 
 Madame de Loss's ; upon which Lord Nelson sent 
 his excuse, and then Mr. Elliot persuaded Madame 
 de Loss to invite her. 
 
 " Oct. 9. A great breakfast at the Elliots', given 
 by the Nelson party. Lady Hamilton repeated her 
 attitudes with great effect. All the company, except 
 their party and myself, went away before dinner, 
 after which Lady Hamilton, who declared she was 
 passionately fond of champagne, took such a portion 
 of it as astonished me. Lord Nelson was not 
 behindhand, called more vociferously than usual for 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 226 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 songs in his own praise, and after many bumpers 
 proposed the Queen of Naples, adding, ' She is my 
 queen; she is queen to the backbone.' Poor Mr. 
 Elliot, who was anxious the party should not expose 
 themselves more than they had done already, and 
 wished to get over the last day as well as he had done 
 the rest, endeavoured to stop the effusion of cham- 
 pagne, and effected it with some difficulty ; but not 
 till the lord and lady, or, as he calls them, Antony 
 and Moll Cleopatra, were pretty far gone. Lady 
 Hamilton expressed great anxiety to go to court, 
 and Mrs. Elliot assured her it would not amuse her, 
 and that the Elector never gave dinners or suppers. 
 * What ! ' cried she, ' no guttling ? ' Sir William also 
 this evening performed feats of activity, hopping 
 round the room on his backbone, his arms, legs, star 
 and ribbon all flying about in the air." 
 
 " Oct. 10. Mr. Elliot saw them on board to- 
 day. The moment they were on board there was 
 an end of the fine arts, of the attitudes, of the act- 
 ing, the dancing, and the singing. Lady Hamilton's 
 maid began to scold in French about some provisions 
 which had been forgot, in language quite impossible 
 to repeat, using certain French words which were 
 never spoken but by men of the lowest class, and 
 roaring them out from one boat to another. Lady 
 Hamilton began bawling for an Irish stew, and her 
 old mother set about washing the potatoes, which
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 227 
 
 she did as cleverly as possible. They were exactly 
 like Hogarth's actresses dressing in the barn." 
 
 After these scenes, who can deny that the influ- 
 ence of such a creature could have had no effect on 
 the simple character of the hero ? The mind that 
 could be reduced so low must have found its views 
 of everything, even of what is heroic, coloured by 
 such a medium. 
 
 At last they arrived in London. Now came a 
 still deeper sinking into the mire for all parties 
 concerned, with a prying and scoffing audience to 
 look on. They all put up at the same hotel, and 
 from that time began a series of follies. The position 
 of Lady Nelson was truly pitiable forced into a 
 sort of countenance of the proceedings, this being the 
 homage most welcome to the intruder, the husband 
 requiring some such amende for what he considers 
 unworthy suspicions. He took a house in Dover 
 Street, and there the odious pill was forced down her 
 very throat. Sometimes her restraint gave way ; and 
 it was told at the clubs how she had fainted at the 
 theatre, and had to be carried out. A more painful 
 scene still was reported, where the unfortunate wife 
 was made to go and fetch a shawl for her rival. 
 There is not chapter and verse for these stories ; but 
 in such episodes they are, as it were, common forms. 
 
 It is sad to think of him as the hero of such a 
 scene as the following : The Hamiltons had taken 
 
 Q2
 
 228 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR 
 
 a house in Piccadilly looking into the Green Park. 
 Before they entered into possession, a lawyer and a 
 clerk went to make a schedule of the fixtures, and 
 found themselves attended round the house by an 
 emaciated weather-beaten man, very shabbily dressed, 
 and who seemed to them like one of the French 
 refugee priests who were then wandering about 
 London in crowds. They no doubt made small 
 account of him, and still less of a jesting request 
 " to include him in the fixtures." Afterwards they 
 found that this was Lord Nelson ! Such a state of 
 things could not long continue. Sir William, now 
 growing old, seemed equally infatuated by his wife 
 as was Nelson, and could not see what was going 
 on. It was artfully put before him again and again 
 that Nelson was unhappy at home misunderstood, 
 miserable ; in fact, it was urged at last, without a 
 home to lay his head in. " Without a home ? " 
 said the other ; " let him come here ours is large 
 enough." And in a short time the London gossips 
 heard the trio were all living together in Piccadilly. 
 From this time Nelson seems to have quite given 
 himself up to this thraldom ; and it was said grew 
 irritated by the remarks made on the affair, and 
 determined to support Lady Hamilton. It may be 
 questioned whether the influence of his relatives 
 could have made much effect ; but it makes the 
 picture complete to think that that influence and
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 229 
 
 countenance should have been turned in another 
 direction. His aged father a man of eighty did 
 not take part with his daughter-in-law ; and a man 
 who has since acquired a notoriety the clerical 
 brother, William Nelson, D.D., was foremost in his 
 obsequious homage and devotion to the woman who 
 was ruining his brother's name. Disgraceful, too, 
 was the fashion in which the genteel world crowded 
 to her rooms were eager to be admitted to the 
 soirees, where she went through her old round of 
 poses and antics. 
 
 In 1800, when the hero and his party landed at 
 Yarmouth, his friends held up his wife to disdain, 
 because, poor lady ! instead of rushing down to that 
 port to welcome him, she remained to meet him in 
 London. There she is said to have received him. 
 The hero and his wife occupied a house in Dover 
 Street, with the heroine, making the role of the 
 wife rather difficult to play with dignity. The 
 scene is described in her "Memoirs" a catch-penny 
 thing, as it is called, but which has a grand air 
 of vraisemblance. A lady of high rank, a duchess 
 it was said, had called on them, and, during the visit, 
 persistently ignored the presence of Lady Hamilton, 
 devoting all her attentions to Lady Nelson. On her 
 departure she was roundly abused, both by Nelson 
 and his Emma ; and, as Lady Nelson said nothing, 
 she was rated by her husband as if she was to blame
 
 230 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 for the neglect ; with other scenes of the same painful 
 kind. Two months were passed in this fashion, of 
 which Nelson later wrote : " Sooner than live the 
 unhappy life I did in London, I would stay abroad 
 for ever." His confidential business adviser related, 
 so lately as 1846, how he had been present at the 
 crisis. He had come to breakfast. A cheerful con- 
 versation was passing on indifferent subjects, when 
 Lord Nelson spoke of something that had been said 
 or done by dear Lady Hamilton, upon which Lady 
 Nelson rose from her chair, and with much vehemence 
 exclaimed : " I am sick of hearing of ' dear Lady 
 Hamilton/ and am resolved you shall give up either 
 her or me." Lord Nelson with perfect calmness said : 
 " Take care, Fanny, what you say. I love you sin- 
 cerely ; but I cannot forget my obligations to Lady 
 Hamilton, or speak of her otherwise than with affec- 
 tion and admiration." Without one soothing word or 
 gesture, but muttering something about "her mind 
 being made up," Lady Nelson left the room, and 
 shortly after drove from the house. 
 
 " I believe," adds this friendly adviser, " he took 
 a formal leave of her before joining the fleet ; 
 but, to the day of her husband's death, she never 
 made any apology for her abrupt and singular 
 conduct." 
 
 The poor, long-suffering lady may not have been 
 ordered to quit, and may have departed of her own
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 231 
 
 motion; but the causes that impelled her are clear. 
 Unhappily, the hero himself, with the candour which 
 belonged to his character, openly bore testimony 
 against himself. His assurance at parting was : " I 
 call God to witness there is nothing in your conduct 
 I wish otherwise." On his return, not long after- 
 wards, he wrote to Mr. Davidson, to signify to his 
 wife, " I expect, and for which I have made such a 
 very liberal allowance (1200/. a year), to be left to 
 myself, without any inquiries from her." 
 
 The attitude of Sir William Hamilton, when this 
 had been going on for so many years, was a puzzle 
 to many. Of his worshipping attachment for Nelson, 
 almost equal to that of his wife, there can be no doubt. 
 He was a diplomatist of at least ordinary shrewdness 
 and observation, and must have seen or suspected, or 
 found friends to hint or speak openly to him. This 
 infatuation may have led him to think that he might 
 trust the hero, as he showed, indeed, in his will, 
 where he bequeathed an enamel of his Emma to 
 " my dearest friend, Lord Nelson ; a small token of 
 the great regard I have for his lordship, the most 
 virtuous, loyal, and truly brave character I ever met 
 with. God bless him ; and shame fall on those who 
 do not say, Amen !" 
 
 A blush must have come to the now pallid cheek 
 of Nelson, as he read this testimonial of his foolish, 
 doting friend. " The most loyal ! " Alas !
 
 232 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 The brother of Lord Nelson was truly a singular 
 character ; and there is something almost comic in 
 the open manner in which he exploited his famous 
 relation's services to forward his own interests. ^Not 
 less droll is the placid manner in which the good- 
 natured Nelson accepted the situation, and used every 
 possible exertion to forward his promotion. Lady 
 Hamilton the cleric overwhelmed with civilities and 
 attentions. " I send you," he wrote in 1801, " a hunted 
 hare. . . . Your letters," he adds, "always give an 
 additional zest to our breakfast- table." He has just 
 had a letter from his great and beloved brother, "who 
 has sent his letter to the new Lord Chancellor. God 
 grant it may have the desired effect ! " 
 
 " Another," says the Edinburgh Revieiv, "equally 
 noble, though as yet only reverend correspondent, 
 survives, who surely cannot have forgotten how often 
 he was her ' obliged and faithful servant ; ' called her 
 ' his deary ; ' condescended to write jocose and free 
 letters to her of a Sunday morning, between morning 
 and evening service ; looked to her, as his ' best and 
 truest friend,' for protection and advancement ; en- 
 gaged her to obtain prebends 'with six hundred 
 a-year, and good houses ; ' and enclosed a list of five 
 deans, ' all old men.' To him, and to such as him, 
 who are wallowing in riches, and have given her 
 claims on their gratitude, she is certainly entitled to 
 look for assistance ; not to the public, of whom she
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 233 
 
 has deserved ill, and never more so than by the 
 present publication." 
 
 " I am told there are two or three very old lives, 
 prebends of Canterbury, in the Minister's gift near 
 six hundred a-year and a good house. The deans of 
 Hereford, Exeter, Lichfield, and Coventry, York and 
 Winchester are all old men." 
 
 He could be obsequiously jocular too : " Now 
 this morning comes your roguish, waggish letter, 
 about love, courtship, marriage, throwing the stocking, 
 going to bed ; quite shocking to write to a country 
 parson." He, however, evidently furnished amuse- 
 ment to, and was the farceur of, the singularly assorted 
 party. We find the poor blinded Sir William writing 
 in 1801, after the victory, from Piccadilly: "You 
 would have laughed to have seen what I saw yester- 
 day. Emma did not know whether she was on her 
 head or her heels ; in such a hurry to tell your great 
 news that she could utter nothing but tears of joy 
 and tenderness. Your brother, Mrs. Nelson, and 
 Horace dined with us. Your brother was more ex- 
 traordinary than ever ; he would get up suddenly and 
 cut a caper, rubbing his hands every time, as the 
 thought of your fresh laurels came into his head." 
 
 Dr. Nelson, who was so free and pleasant in his 
 allusions, used to invite Lady Hamilton and Mrs. Bill- 
 ington down to Canterbury, where the ladies sang duets 
 together in a manner that ravished the very limited
 
 234 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR 
 
 circle that listened ; for, as may be conceived, the 
 decorous Canterbury folk were much scandalised at his 
 having such a pair mixing with his family ; and when 
 they asked him, took care to put on the card, " Not 
 
 Lady H ." The prudent ecclesiastic recked little 
 
 of their prudery ; he had set his mind on the coveted 
 preferment, through the agency of " my heroic 
 brother," operated on by Lady Hamilton. ("No 
 beggarly stalls.") 
 
 "Writing to the worthy Mr. Greville, she complains 
 bitterly of this ignoring of her society, and that " our 
 private characters are to be shattered in the dark. 
 First it was said Lord Nelson and Sir William fought ; 
 then, that we played and lost. First, Sir William 
 and Lord Nelson live like brothers ; next, Lord 
 Nelson never plays ; and this I give you my word 
 of honour. So I beg you will contradict any of these 
 vile reports." 
 
 " Whatever you do for my charge," wrote Nelson, 
 " I must be pleased with. Probably she will be lodged 
 at Merton, when she can have the benefit of our walks. 
 It will make the poor mother happy, I am sure. I 
 do not write to her to-day, as this goes through the Ad- 
 miralty ; but tell her all I would say ; you know my un- 
 changeable thoughts about her." Most extraordinary 
 and inexplicable is his question : " Have we a nice 
 church at Merton ? We will set an example of good- 
 ness to the parishioners." Later, however, he more
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 235 
 
 reasonably anticipates a cold reception from the 
 parishioners of Merton : 
 
 " No person at Merton can take amiss our not 
 visiting ; the answer from me will always be very 
 civil thanks, but that I wish to live retired. We 
 shall leave our sea friends." 
 
 "Never mind the great bashaw at the Priory." 
 (This referred to Lord Abercorn at Stanmore). " He 
 be damned ! If he were single, and had a mind to 
 marry you, he could only make you a marchioness ; 
 but as he is situated, and I situated, I can make you 
 a duchess." 
 
 " Everything you tell me about my dear Horatia 
 charms me. I think I see her, hear her, and admire 
 her ; but she is like her dear, dear mother." 
 
 After this, a separation was thought best for all 
 parties. Nelson chose the moment of his departure on 
 the Danish expedition to inform his wife of this step ; 
 and he was escorted to his ship by Sir William and 
 Lady Hamilton, and the obsequious and reverend 
 brother. 
 
 Then came fresh naval glories, all through which 
 a stream of letters was kept up. Sir William was 
 commissioned to purchase an estate, and Merton was 
 accordingly secured in truth, to furnish means for 
 a provision for the lady. 
 
 News of the Copenhagen coup de main had 
 reached London on the 15th of April, 1801, and
 
 236 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUK. 
 
 with it came letters for Lady Hamilton. Wraxall 
 gives a curious picture of the celebration at their 
 house, and shows us at the same time how this 
 woman was countenanced by the world of fashion. 
 On that night she gave a party to celebrate the 
 victory, and Sir Nathaniel repaired there at ten 
 o'clock, and found a very distinguished circle, that 
 included the Dukes of Gordon and Queensbury, Lord 
 W. Gordon, Calonne (the French minister), Mr. 
 Kemble (the actor), the Due de Noi'a (a Neapolitan 
 grandee), together with the Rev. Dr. Nelson. She 
 was the life and soul of the party, and in more than 
 her usual spirits. She played the harpsichord, sang, 
 and finally proposed to dance the " Tarantella" in the 
 fiery Neapolitan fashion. She commenced it with 
 Sir William, who soon had to give way ; and was 
 succeeded by the Italian duke, who in his turn 
 retired ; and a maid-servant was sent for to succeed 
 him ; and after the maid-servant was tired down, a 
 black Copt woman " a present," says Wraxall oddly, 
 "from Nelson" succeeded. It seems to have been 
 a most extraordinary performance, and to have 
 suggested to those present the curious antics of the 
 Eastern dancing girls full of screams, starts, and 
 languishings, accompanied by castanets and tam- 
 bourine ; in short, as the baronet says, " certainly not 
 of a nature to be performed except before a select 
 company." Truly, reading such records as Selwyn's
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 237 
 
 and Angelo's memoirs, we may be reasonably amazed 
 at the tone of London fashionable life, which seemed 
 to anticipate the scandalous orgies of the French 
 empire. 
 
 During this time, too, he was writing those strange 
 letters, which were so shamefully published, according 
 to the inevitable Nemesis, which great men when com- 
 mitting themselves to such declarations should bear 
 in mind. He tells her she was a nonpareil ; there is 
 not one fit to wipe her shoes ; he had rather hear 
 her call " Cupidy ! Cupidy ! " or her " little story of 
 the hen getting into a tree, than all the speeches 
 made in Parliament." 
 
 Through all, too, he shows a rooted dislike to 
 the unfortunate lady who was his wife, and plainly 
 expresses his wish to be rid of her. 
 
 Not content with this exhibition of the hero, 
 " the people of England," she said, " must see the 
 man who had upheld the glory of the British 
 flag : " and such was her influence over him, that 
 she persuaded him to quit his family and to ex- 
 hibit himself at all the corporate and manufacturing 
 towns in the island, attended of course by her and 
 the ci-devant ambassador. Where there was a 
 theatre, she conducted him thither, well knowing 
 with what applause he would be received, of which 
 she would come in for her share. Public balls, 
 dinners, etc., were given him, with city freedoms, pre-
 
 238 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 sented in gold and silver boxes. Poets and minstrels 
 sang his praises, from Falmouth to John-o'-Groat's. 
 
 "But at length John Bull, who is at bottom a 
 moral character, recollected that his hero had a 
 wife, and began to marvel that he preferred showing 
 himself to the people accompanied by the spouse of 
 another rather than by his own. The murmurs 
 increased, and, before the tour was , completed, his 
 popularity was on the decline. The press attacked 
 this wandering party, insinuating that they moved 
 about for show ; and that the public exhibition of 
 a sea-captain, such as Nelson, in the character of an 
 Italian cavcdiere servente, ought not to be encouraged. 
 The last act of the drama was performed in the 
 theatre, Wellclose Square, where he appeared, dressed 
 in all his orders, and with the sword which had been 
 in the morning presented to him by the Lord Mayor. 
 The enthusiasm of the people on this occasion was 
 less than on any similar one. The ' gods ' played 
 off their wit at her ladyship's expense, and she 
 prudently retired. This was her last appearance in 
 public." >-. 
 
 These two letters (unpublished) are truly charac- 
 teristic : 
 
 " You cannot think, my dear sir, how sorry we 
 are for poor Dodd's death ; but anything we can do 
 to assist the poor widow we will. I am very sorry
 
 LADY HAMILTOX. 239 
 
 you are not with us to keep the Hero of heroes' 
 birthday, the 29th ; but you will drink his health. 
 Sir William begs his compliments. We have had a 
 most charming tour, which will burst some of them. 
 So let all the enimies (sic) of the greatest man alive 
 bless his friends. So I will finish with saying, God 
 bless you." 
 
 " MERTON, February. 
 "My DEAR SIR, 
 
 " We are very happy to hear you are better. 
 Lord Nelson has been very uneasy about you ; and 
 not hearing from you alarmed us very much. Take 
 care of yourself ; avoid hurry and company ; do not 
 be persuaded to go out of night ; take care of your- 
 self for a month, and you will do very well. But you 
 are in the midst of friends and relations ; therefore, 
 I need not say more. Poor Laugford has been with 
 us. The Jesuit has promised Lord Nelson to make 
 him ; but we don't much rely on his word, although I 
 think he cannot well be off. Lord Nelson had an 
 interview with him the other day, and told him his 
 own, and he was as humble as possible. Sir Thomas 
 rules the roast. How long this reign may last I do 
 not know. Great changes are spoken of. Nelson the 
 glorious Nelson is the truly great man. In his 
 retirement he seldom goes to town, and for that 
 reason he is much desired and sought for. Keeping 
 men off you keep them on, will do for men as well
 
 240 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 as women. If ever he is employed which he will be 
 if there is a new war you will be one of his select, 
 for such he calls you ; but he will not take such a 
 command as he had last year. Shame on them for 
 giving it him ; but Nelson is a being of a superior 
 class ; the most trivial command he makes of im- 
 portance, and I look on the attack off Boulogne as 
 the bravest thing we have done. It was not his fault 
 it did not succeed. Alas, the poor brave little Parker ! 
 but we must not dwell on such ideas. The Grand- 
 Seignior has sent our Nelson a riband to wear with 
 his star of the crescent, and a very handsome letter 
 through Lord Elgin. The medals for Copenhagen 
 are not yet given. These vagabonds in power are 
 not worthy of great victories. I had some lines sent 
 me the other day on seeing the medal of Julius 
 Caesar ' Veni, vidi, vici ' : 
 
 " Two-thirds of Caesar's boasted fame 
 
 Thou, Nelson, must resign ; 
 To come and see is Parker's claim, 
 To conquer only thine. 
 
 " Are they not very neat ? 
 
 "Nelson is still with us. We are very busy 
 planting, and I am as much amused with pigs and 
 hens as I was of the court of Naples' ambassador." 
 
 Next came a tour in Wales, the party consist- 
 ing of Nelson, Sir W. and Lady Hamilton, and the
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 241 
 
 brother, Dr. Nelson. Keturning home by Blenheim, 
 either by accident or intention the family did not 
 appear to the party, which Nelson took in high 
 dudgeon, and refused the refreshments offered. The 
 lady who had inspired such high-handed treatment 
 of the Neapolitans was not inclined to put up with 
 this affront, and her voice was heard in protest against 
 the ingratitude which denied the hero a place " to 
 which Blenheim should be a kitchen-garden." This 
 scene is another of those painful ones which put him 
 so low. 
 
 At last, in 1803, died the foolish old Sir William, 
 as blinded and infatuated in his own way as the 
 admirer ; and his last act was to commend " his in- 
 comparable Emma" to the care of his dear Nelson, 
 with a declaration that she had never offended him 
 during her life. The duty was willingly undertaken, 
 and was needed, as only a trifle was left to her. Sir 
 William's nephew the elegant Greville, her early 
 ally and patron entered on his inheritance with 
 indecent haste, and in money matters behaved with a 
 Shylock-like severity. 
 
 Yet this improvident woman had small claims to 
 the public assistance she was so clamorous for. On the 
 ground that she was amply provided for, Sir William 
 left the bulk of his property to Mr. Greville, subject 
 to a charge of 700Z. a year for her. This old friend 
 and patron seems to have at once turned her out of 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 her London house. This disposition excited the 
 indignation of Nelson, and seems to have at once 
 
 O ' 
 
 turned him against his old friend ; for we find him 
 writing to the Queen of Naples, reminding her of her 
 obligations to Emma, in this strain : " Your Majesty 
 never had a more attached, sincere, and real friend 
 than your dear Emma. You will be sorry to hear 
 that good Sir William did not leave her in such 
 comfortable circumstances as his fortune would have 
 allowed. He has given it away to his relatives. But 
 she will do honour to his memory, though every one 
 else of his friends calls loudly against him on that 
 account." He was not slow to compensate her for 
 the disappointment; he settled 1200Z. a year on her. 
 Writing to her he says : " As for old Queensberry, he 
 may put you into his will, or scratch you out, as 
 he pleases ; I care not. If Mr. Addington gives you 
 a pension, it is well ; but do not let it fret you. 
 Have you not Nelson ? " In his will he provided 
 for her amply, and there are numerous codicils 
 adding more and yet more all Merton, the house 
 and lands ; then 4000?. ; then 2000?. ; then 500?. a year 
 out of Bronte, which, it is to be presumed, never was 
 paid to her, as he never received anything. The 
 last codicil was significant of her grasping nature. 
 It was drawn up to give her "all the hay on the 
 ground," at Merton. 
 
 This reference to "Old Queensberry," discloses
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 243 
 
 an oddly humorous side to the business, for they 
 were both "cultivating" that old jaded creature with 
 a view to his leaving Emma a handsome legacy. The 
 hero is solicitous in sending over wine, etc., such as 
 the old duke likes, promising her to send so many 
 bottles. 
 
 She was persuaded to make a humble application 
 to Government for the continuance of even a portion 
 of her husband's pension. In her letter she speaks 
 of her "irreparable loss," her ever-honoured husband, 
 and her dear Sir William, and signs herself with " a 
 respect more than she can well utter." This was re- 
 fused. She next took a house in Clarges Street, where 
 she began a round of dissipation quite congenial to 
 her temper. 
 
 By this time the servile Dr. Nelson had obtained 
 a, stall in Canterbury evidently the reward of his 
 obsequious attendance on Lady Hamilton and hoped 
 for a richer prize. 
 
 The lady is later fonnd living at Nelson's place 
 in Merton, where her extravagance and waste knew 
 no bounds. From a distance he would write to her 
 of the wife with whom he "had no fault to find": 
 " I beg you will never mention that person's name." 
 He was looking forward impatiently to that per- 
 son's death, when he could be joined by " a nearer tie 
 in law " ! 
 
 In due time Nelson returned, and the old de- 
 
 R 2
 
 244 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 votion was signalised by a yet greater infatuation. 
 She had been with him in all his thoughts ; and 
 the great commander had, according to precedent, 
 been moved to rhyme verses " in a gale " some bold, 
 fresh, seamanlike lines, with, however, a significant 
 declaration : 
 
 Though Emma's polish'd verse superior shine, 
 Though sensibility grace every line, 
 Though her soft Muse be far above all praise, 
 And female tenderness inspire her lays : 
 Deign to receive, though tmadorn'd 
 
 By the poetic art, 
 
 The rude expressions which bespeak 
 A Sailor's untaught heart ! 
 
 A heart susceptible, sincere, and true ; 
 A heart, by fate, and nature, torn in two : 
 One half, to duty and his country due ; 
 The other, better Jtalf, to love and you ! 
 
 Sooner shall Britain's sons resign 
 
 The empire of the sea, 
 Than Henry shall renounce his faith, 
 
 AND PLIGHTED VOWS, TO THEE ! 
 
 And waves on waves shall cease to roll, 
 
 And tides forget to flow, 
 Ere thy true Henry's constant love 
 
 Or ebb, or change, shall know. 
 
 When Nelson was fighting his last battle, the 
 Rev. "William Nelson, his wife and family, were 
 living with Lady Hamilton. The character of this
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 245 
 
 gentleman has been shown ; but it will be enough 
 to mention that this ecclesiastic had entrusted his 
 daughter for some six years to the care of such a 
 directress as Lady Hamilton. The reason for this 
 confidence is too apparent. He doubtless felt that 
 such a proof of trust would be the most flattering 
 token he could give her of belief in her reputability. 
 But in return for this scandalous service he was 
 continually pressing her to exert her interest for his 
 promotion : " Now we have secured the peerage we 
 have only one thing to ask, and that is my pro- 
 motion in the Church, handsomely and honourably, 
 such as becomes Lord Nelson's brother and heir- 
 apparent to the title. No put-off ivith beggarly 
 stalls. Mr. Addington must be kept steadily to 
 this point." No put-off with beggarly stalls ! 
 
 The day before the tremendous conflict, Nelson 
 wrote to his daughter Horatia this last letter : 
 
 "Victory, October 19th, 1805. 
 
 "My DEAREST ANGEL, 
 
 " I was made happy by the pleasure of re- 
 ceiving your letter of September 19th ; and I rejoiced 
 to hear you are so good a girl, and love my dear 
 Lady Hamilton, who so dearly loves you. Give her 
 a kiss for me. The combined fleets of the enemy 
 are now reported to be coming out of Cadiz, and 
 therefore I answer your 'letter, my dearest Horatia,
 
 246 KINGS AXD QUEENS OF AX HOUR. 
 
 to mark to you that you are ever uppermost in my 
 thoughts. I shall be sure of your prayers for my 
 safety, conquest, and speedy return to dear Merton 
 and our dearest, good Lady Hamilton. Be a good 
 girl." 
 
 Here, again, is seen this extraordinary jumble 
 of affection and piety, with the still more singular 
 unconsciousness that he was doing aught but what 
 was fitting, moral, and becoming. 
 
 His last letter, before the battle, was addressed to 
 Lady Hamilton, and is full of strange presentiment : 
 
 "The signal has been made that the enemies' 
 combined fleet are coming out of port. . . . May 
 the God of battles crown my endeavours with success ! 
 At all events, I will take care that my name shall 
 ever be most dear to you and Horatia, both of whom 
 I love as much as my own life ; and, as my last 
 writing before the battle will be to you, so I hope 
 in God that I shall live to finish my letter after the 
 battle. May Heaven bless you, prays your NELSON 
 AND BRONTE." 
 
 This was found lying unfinished on his table after 
 the battle. 
 
 "When it first broke on her that she was to be
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 247 
 
 sacrificed and abandoned she, having fancied that, as 
 Nelson's legacy to the nation, she would be loaded 
 with favours and benefactions the revulsion was 
 bewildering ; she could not realise it. What her 
 feelings were is shown in an outburst to Dr. Scott, 
 Nelson's chaplain, in her own passionate, uncom- 
 promising style. It is dated September, 1806 : 
 
 "How hard it is, how cruel, this treatment to me 
 and Horatia ! That angel's last wishes neglected, not 
 to speak of the fraud that was acted to keep back the 
 codicil. . . . 
 
 " You know the great and virtuous affection he 
 had for me, the love he bore my husband ; and, if 
 I had any influence over him, I used it for the 
 good of my country. Did I ever keep him at home ? 
 Did I not share his glory ? Even this last victory 
 it was I bid him go forth. Did he not pat me on 
 the back, call me brave Emma, and said, ' If there 
 were more Emmas there would be more Nelsons'? 
 Does he not in his last moments do me justice, 
 and request, at the moment of his glorious death, 
 that the King and nation will do me justice ! And I 
 have got all his letters, and near eight hundred of 
 the Queen of Naples, to show what I did for my 
 King and country, and prettily am I rewarded ! 
 
 " Psha ! I am above them ; I despise them, for, 
 thank God, I feel that, having lived with honour
 
 248 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 and glory, that glory they cannot take from me. 
 I despise them ! my soul is above them, and yet 
 I can make some of them tremble by showing how 
 he despised them for, in his letters to me, he 
 
 thought aloud. Look at , courting the man 
 
 he despised, and neglecting those whose feet he 
 used to lick ! Dirty, vile groveller ! " 
 
 It is melancholy to have to relate that the prodi- 
 gious friendship of the Queen of Naples for her English 
 friend did not stand the test of adversity. These 
 violent delights have ever violent endings ; and it is 
 said that an application for assistance made to her by 
 Lady Hamilton in her distress was taken no notice of. 
 The latter states, as we have seen, that she had no less 
 than eight hundred letters from this royal personage. 
 
 The Last scene in Nelson's life has been often 
 described, as well as that remarkable codicil to his 
 will, written on October 21st, 1805, "then in sight 
 of the combined fleets of France and Spain," distant 
 about ten miles, and which is devoted entirely to 
 Lady Hamilton. In the preamble, he states that 
 her " eminent services " have never been rewarded 
 by "our king or country;" and he recapitulates 
 them minutely, viz., the obtaining the letter in 
 1796, and the order for victualling the fleet. He 
 also recommends his daughter Horatia to his king 
 and country. An air of romance has been cast about 
 this last solemn act, and his gallant and truly heroic
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 249 
 
 end, together with the smoke of that glorious victory, 
 has blinded the world to the extraordinary character 
 of the proceeding. If by some accident the French 
 fleet had got away, and the engagement had not 
 taken place, what sort of judgment would have been 
 pronounced on the matter ? First, the complacent 
 prayer "to the great God whom I worship" for a 
 blessing to descend upon him and crown his efforts. 
 " He was not alone then," says the writer of an 
 extraordinary article in Blachvood ; " for One whose 
 ' good and faithful servant ' he had always been was 
 with him ! " Surely one with the most elementary 
 notions of piety would have thought that at such a 
 crisis, and after such a prayer, some amende was 
 due to the outraged law of morality, and to his 
 deserted and injured wife. Even that appeal for 
 Lady Hamilton was not justifiable ; for he knew 
 that he had provided for her at the sacrifice of 
 those who had legitimate and honourable claims on 
 him. He had given her Merton, and made a settle- 
 ment on her of his Sicilian estate, and she had 700?. 
 a-year from Sir William. His reason, therefore, for 
 begging from his " King and country " an ample pro- 
 vision to maintain her rank in life must have been 
 his knowledge of her reckless extravagance, to sup- 
 port which her handsome fortune would have been 
 inadequate. It seems ungracious and unbecoming 
 to scrutinise the last act of such a hero one who
 
 250 KDSTGS AND QUEE^ T S OF AN HOUR 
 
 has laid this nation under an eternal weight of 
 obligation. 
 
 As to the legacy, there can of course be but the 
 one opinion that it should have been religiously 
 carried out by the country. Indeed, the late history 
 of that codicil is disgraceful in every view. It was 
 given to Captain Blackie, and handed by him to the 
 Kev. Doctor Nelson. Not a word was heard of it 
 until the day after parliament had voted 120. OOO/. 
 for the heirs of the dead hero. Dining with Lady 
 Hamilton, the fortunate earl threw it to her across the 
 table, and said she might do what she liked with it. 
 Such a story of elaborate ingratitude and baseness 
 would seem incredible. It is not even disputed ; and 
 the worst part is, that the scheme succeeded perfectly. 
 The suppression could not be repaired ; the money 
 was voted, and the matter could not be reopened. 
 There was a natural disinclination to discolour the 
 national glory and Nelson's glory with such a tache 
 as Nelson's frailty. The strangest part, however, 
 was that in this matter the Government was curiously 
 impartial in its slight, and in this settlement passed 
 over the injured wife as well as Lady Hamilton. 
 For this there could be no justification or excuse of 
 precedent, as, in Abercrombie's instance, the wife had 
 been included in the limitations. On the whole, 
 never were the laissez-faire principles of an English 
 Government carried so far.
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 251 
 
 The rest of Lady Hamilton's history is the history 
 of a miserable descent embarrassments, beggings, 
 borrowings, and straits of every kind. Her debts 
 were 18 3 000/. ; and she had the charge of her 
 daughter Horatia, bequeathed as a legacy to the 
 country, and shifted from the legatee to her. It 
 was said she had her taught some of her own poses 
 and attitudes as the beginning of an education ; but 
 this may have been one of the many stories circu- 
 lated about her. She herself, indeed, could not get 
 rid of her old theatrical associations ; and as she had 
 long played the part of the hero's "love," she must 
 now play the hero's mourner.* When in one of Mr. 
 Braham's new operas that amazing piece of declama- 
 tion, so dear to robust tenors, " The Death of Nelson," 
 was introduced, Lady Hamilton attended in a box at 
 the theatre ; and when the singer was vociferating, 
 " Then England confessed that every man," etc., she 
 fainted away. Some indulgence might be felt for this 
 exhibition ; but when it occurred a second time, and 
 was repeated, it became a matter of just amuse- 
 ment. But she had more serious things to think of. 
 She was being pressed by creditors of all kinds. She 
 implored the old profligate Duke of Queensberry, who 
 had been her admirer, and whom the hero was anxious 
 
 * There was a lady living not long ago who went to see her at 
 this time, and found her in bed, with the sheets trimmed with 
 black.
 
 252 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 should be her admirer, to purchase the estate Nelson 
 had bequeathed to her ; but he refused. Then came 
 executions and sales. The Patriotic Fund and Lloyd's 
 did what the nation would not do, and made her 
 liberal grants. But this was of no use ; and there was 
 presently the scandalous spectacle of an execution 
 sale, with all Nelson's presents and articles belonging 
 to him, such as the box containing the freedom of the 
 city of Oxford. No one cared to interfere to save 
 Nelson's memory from the slur. 
 
 The death of the hero and her own extravagances 
 left Lady Hamilton in a miserable condition both of 
 mind and body. It is to her credit that her first 
 thoughts were not for herself, but for his family, left 
 quite unprovided for. Mr. Rose was then in office, 
 and seems to have taken a good-natured interest in 
 her fortunes, even to the end of her disastrous career, 
 in spite of the lady's erratic doings. He seems to 
 have dreaded her publishing the papers and letters, 
 which would have been fatal to her interests, on 
 which she wrote him this characteristic letter from 
 her bed, where she says " she had ever been since the 
 fatal sixth of this month (November, 1805) " : 
 
 " Believe me, then, when I assure you I do not 
 see anyone but the family of my dear Nelson. His 
 letters are in the bed with me ; and only to the 
 present Earl did I ever read one, and then only a
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 253 
 
 part. It is true he is leaky, but I believe would not 
 willingly tell anything ; but I have been told some- 
 thing like some of my letters have been printed in 
 some paper. I never now read a paper, and my 
 health and spirits are so bad I cannot enter into a war 
 with vile editors. Of this be assured, no one shall 
 ever see a letter of my glorious and dear departed 
 Nelson. It is true I have a journal from him ever 
 since he came up to Naples to get provisions for our 
 troops in Toulon, when he was in the Agamemnon ; 
 but his letters are sacred, and shall remain so. My 
 dear sir, my heart is broken. Life to me now is not 
 worth having; I lived but for him. His glory I 
 gloried in ; it was my pride that he should go forth ; 
 and this fatal and last time he went I persuaded him 
 to it. But I cannot go on my heart and head are 
 gone ; only, believe me, what you write to me shall 
 ever be attended to. Could you know me you would 
 not think I had such bad policy as to publish any 
 thing at this moment. My mind is not a common 
 one; and having lived as a confidante and friend with 
 such men as Sir William Hamilton, and dearest, 
 glorious Nelson, I feel myself superior to vain tattling 
 women. Excuse me, but I am ill and nervous." 
 
 The brave Hardy was no less zealous in her cause, 
 and, as soon as he landed in England, waited on 
 Mr. Kose to press her claims, showing him Nelson's
 
 254 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUE. 
 
 last entries in bis pocket-book, recommending her to 
 his country. Mr. Kose engaged to mention the 
 matter to Mr. Pitt, though he feared her case was 
 now too remote, and was properly in the Department 
 of Foreign Affairs. Mr. Pitt died without anything 
 being done for her. Mr. Kose, however, pressed 
 Mr. Canning to do something, who promised that he 
 would consider it carefully. The result, however, was 
 but little encouraging. 
 
 With " such earnest entreaties " as he could use, 
 Eose implored him to let her have a sum of some 
 6000/. or 7000Z. from the Secret Service Fund. 
 But this was found out of the question, and the most 
 that could be looked for was a trifling pension " for 
 the child who lives with her, and was recommended 
 also by Lord Nelson in his last moments " a phrase 
 that supports the theory of Horatia being Nelson's 
 daughter. 
 
 Lord Grenville, when the matter was referred to 
 him, would do nothing ; and both he and Mr. Canning 
 resorted to some ingenious official objections in 
 support of their disinclination. 
 
 " I do assure you," wrote the latter, " that I 
 should be very sincerely disposed to gratify your 
 anxious wishes in behalf of Lady H. if I could do so. 
 But Lord Grenville's letter, as you yourself seem 
 aware, does not help me at all ; on the contrary, it is 
 worded with the coldest caution, and would, I think
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 255 
 
 leave it quite open to him, and is intended to leave 
 it open to him, to say that though Lady Hamilton's 
 services deserved reward, yet the Foreign S. S. Fund 
 was not the proper fund out of which that reward 
 should come. 
 
 " I confess I am myself of this opinion. I do 
 think that a pension might be well bestowed on Lady 
 H. But I do not think that, even at the time, the 
 influence of a foreign minister's wife with the court 
 where her husband resides, is a fit subject for com- 
 pensation by secret-service money. There is still, 
 however, another consideration more embarrassing, 
 particularly in the times in which we are acting. The 
 S. S. fund is, by express designation, for secret ser- 
 vices services that cannot be explained or avowed. 
 Now here is a service published not only in Lady H.'s 
 memorials, and known to every person whom she has 
 solicited, but printed in extracts of a will registered in 
 Doctors' Commons, and accessible to all mankind. 
 What reason upon earth is there, it will be said, that 
 if this service is remunerated at all, it should be 
 remunerated secretly ? or how can it be remune- 
 rated secretly in fact ? Would not everyone whom 
 Lady H. has solicited, and every member of oppo- 
 sition high and low, know that Lady H. had received 
 the reward of those services, and received it from 
 a fund not brought to account ? And why not bring 
 to account a matter so notorious ? Do you not see
 
 256 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 the multitude of inconvenient questions to which this 
 transaction would give rise?" 
 
 When Nelson was setting out on his last voyage, 
 he was visited on board the Victory by Mr. Canning 
 and Mr. Rose, who dined with him in the cabin of the 
 Victory. On this occasion he had implored Mr. Rose 
 to press Lady Hamilton's claims on Mr. Pitt. The 
 hero seems to have taken a sanguine view of the 
 assurances given him, for he wrote to her that both 
 had assured him that Mr. Pitt had engaged to take 
 care of her. Unfortunately there was a misconception 
 here, as Mr. Canning declared that no conversation on 
 the topic had taken place, and Mr. Rose insisted that 
 he had done no more than promise to use his influence. 
 Nothing, however, was more likely than that the 
 most handsome and most abundant assurances would 
 have been given that all Nelson's wishes should be 
 attended to, and it does seem probable that he would 
 have mentioned the matter to Canning. The result, 
 however, was that nothing was done. A petition was 
 presented to the Prince Regent, but with the same 
 result. 
 
 Eight years after Nelson's death she was arrested, 
 and consigned to the King's Bench, with her daughter. 
 The heroine of the fetes at Naples, the beautiful wife 
 of the English minister, the Queen's companion, the 
 adored of Nelson, now to be in the hands of tipstaffs 
 and bailiffs ! While she was in duress, appeared those
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 257 
 
 volumes of letters, the publication of which excited 
 such a storm of abuse and reviling. For these she was 
 said to have received 1000. It must be confessed 
 that, for an unfortunate creature rejected by all the 
 friends who had courted her when she was prosperous, 
 sneered at by the public, who disbelieved in her claims 
 of friendship with Nelson, it seemed the readiest means 
 of vindication ; and, if worse than indiscreet, it was 
 an excusable indiscretion. To read the letters of the 
 Queen of Naples, of English admirals and officers, all 
 fawning on her, and affecting to be devoted to the 
 Neapolitan cause, because they followed the cue of 
 their admiral, thus pandering to his infatuation, is a 
 humiliating thing, and deserved exposure. Worse 
 were the flattering deans, bishops, and clergy, with 
 other great people. We can almost sympathise in 
 the singular character of this publication, and enjoy 
 the confusion it occasioned. The unfortunate woman 
 affected to deny having sanctioned the publication, 
 by advertisements in the papers and other ways ; and 
 it was stated on her behalf, that it had been done by 
 some scribe or hack whom she had taken into her 
 house to prepare a statement of her case, and who had 
 surreptitiously taken copies of the letters. 
 
 There is one often-debated subject connected with 
 this episode, namely, that of Horatia, Nelson's 
 "adopted daughter" as he styles her in his will. 
 This lady eventually married, in 1822, the Eev. 
 
 VOL. I. 8
 
 58 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR 
 
 Philip Wand, and died only a short time since. In 
 Nelson's letters she is always spoken of as Thompson, 
 and was christened by that name, though her proper 
 one was 'added later. Sir Harris Nicholas, in his 
 vast collection of Nelson letters, discusses the 
 question as to who were her father and mother, 
 propounding many theories. She was born on 
 October 29th, 1800. Nelson's confidential solicitor 
 assured Sir Harris Nicholas that he knew Lady 
 Hamilton was not her mother. Sir T. Hardy told 
 Mr. Locker, of Greenwich Hospital, that she was not 
 Nelson's or Lady Hamilton's daughter, but the 
 daughter of a petty officer named Thompson. Lady 
 Hamilton herself declared that she was Nelson's 
 daughter, but her mother was a "great personage." 
 Mr. Paget in his interesting essay, declares that 
 "the character of Lady Hamilton's intimacy with 
 Nelson will ever remain an enigma." Unfortunately, 
 the matter is only too clear, and no one who exa- 
 mines the matter, can have a moment's doubt that 
 Horatia was their daughter. The letters of Nelson, 
 published by her, are admitted to be genuine, and 
 there is one letter of August 26th, 1803, pp. 175-8, 
 which, in spite of the omissions, is really convincing. 
 It was natural that Lady Hamilton should so 
 studiously deny the relationship. But there was 
 a more particular reason still in the fact that she 
 was pressing her claims on the Government, which
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 259 
 
 would seriously damage them all, about " the adopted 
 daughter." This curious trickery was carried on in 
 various shapes. Thus, among Lady Hamilton's papers 
 was one to this effect : 
 
 "She is the daughter, the true and beloved 
 daughter, of Viscount Nelson ; and if he had lived, 
 she would have been all that his love and position 
 could have made her ; for nature has made her 
 perfect, beautiful, good, and amiable. Her mother 
 was TOO GBEAT to be mentioned, but her foster- 
 mother and Horatia had a true friend in Emma 
 Hamilton." 
 
 Of her she wrote to Miss Nelson in that vehement, 
 excited style to which she was prone : 
 
 " Although her parents are lost, yet she is not 
 without a portion, and I shall cherish her to the last 
 moment of my life, and curse them who curse her, 
 and Heaven Ness them ivho bless her!" 
 
 The daughter's opinion of her was more measured. 
 " With all Lady Hamilton's faults and she had many 
 she had many fine qualities, which, had she been 
 placed early in better hands, would have made her a 
 very superior woman." 
 
 At last a generous alderman named Smith came 
 to her assistance. He procured her release; and, 
 before fresh detainers could be lodged, she got away to 
 Calais, then the happy sanctuary for the distressed 
 and broken-down, and there joined the English herd 
 
 s 2
 
 260 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 of unfortunate exiles. She was to live there, however, 
 but eighteen months. 
 
 Characteristically enough, she put up at that most 
 expensive of hotels, the famous Dessein's, which almost 
 deserves to have its history written, so many strange 
 characters have stopped there. She immediately 
 wrote over that she was educating her child. She gave 
 her the best masters the place could furnish ; she sent 
 her to a ladies' day-school, where she remained from 
 eight to one, and was taught piano, harp, and all the 
 accomplishments. " Not any girls but those of the 
 first families go there" wrote the poor broken crea- 
 ture. What the " first families " of the Calais of 
 that day were may be imagined. They went to fetes 
 champetres outside the town ; and, indeed, it was no 
 wonder, as she said almost pathetically, she "felt so 
 much better from change of climate, food, air, large 
 rooms, and liberty" that she began to hope to see her 
 dear Horatia grow up. But in truth she was in 
 wretched health, and was growing unwieldy from 
 dropsy and other causes. An English interpreter 
 there (De Kheims) let to her a small meanly-furnished 
 apartment. But from this she had later to remove to 
 something meaner. And from that time it became a 
 miserable struggle, as she sank lower and lower, until 
 her last sickness came on. There is something tragic 
 
 o o 
 
 in the incidents of these closing scenes ; and her 
 whole history is to be added to the list of almost
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 261 
 
 dramatic reverses which point many a moral and 
 adorn tales. An English lady ordering meat for her 
 dog at the butcher's was told by this honest De Rheims 
 that he knew of a lady who would be glad of even a 
 scrap from the dog's portion. He would not divulge 
 the name, as he was bound to secrecy, and the fallen 
 creature was too proud to receive charity. The lady 
 then a true Samaritan bade him furnish wine, and 
 anything else that was required, at her charge, and as 
 from his own bounty. When the outcast was almost 
 at her last, he begged of her to see the lady who had 
 been so good ; and on his stating that she was not 
 a person of title, she consented, received this Mrs. 
 Hunter whose name should be preserved thanked 
 and blessed her. 
 
 A mean little house belonging to one Damy, now 
 No. Ill, Eue Frangaise, saw the close of this strange 
 career, which must have seemed to her clouding facul- 
 ties like a dream, and which, in spite of all the bril- 
 liant scenes between, had ended nearly as it had begun. 
 It was noticed too that, as her end approached, some 
 of the old beauty came back; and on the 15th of 
 January, 1815, an hour after noon, the deserted exiled 
 outcast ended her life. 
 
 Her burial was in keeping, though the account is 
 not very consistent. Mrs. Hunter, it is said, wished 
 to have her interred according to English custom. 
 For this she was only laughed at, and poor Emma
 
 262 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUK. 
 
 was put into a deal box without any inscription. 
 " She was only allowed to contribute a pall, which 
 she made out of a black silk petticoat." Yet the 
 " deal box " must have taken the shape of a coffin ; 
 and there was no English clergyman in Calais to read 
 any service ; so what English custom was refused, 
 except the inscription, it is hard to see. She was, 
 moreover, interred in unconsecrated ground, formerly 
 the garden of the Duchess of Kingston, and later 
 converted into a timber-yard. There an Irish half- 
 pay officer read the service over her for whom bishops 
 were once proud to officiate. 
 
 There were many stories about her last sickness : 
 that " she had fallen into intemperate habits and 
 become a Catholic ; that she was pursued with remorse 
 for her share in Caraccioli's death." The story was 
 not improbable from her long residence in Italy. 
 The "intemperance," it has been seen, was not so 
 improbable. 
 
 An inventory was drawn up of her miserable little 
 property, which is still to be seen at the municipal 
 office. It was valued at about nine pounds. There 
 were also a few pawn-tickets for trinkets, etc. She 
 owed money to the tradesmen. They wished to 
 detain the unhappy Horatia ; but she was got on 
 board ship, and escaped their greedy hands. The 
 Kev. Earl Nelson, it was said, appeared on the scene, 
 actually, with a meanness that seems fatuity, to 
 claim any little trinkets which he fancied might
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 263 
 
 have belonged to his late brother. But when he was 
 presented with the pawn-tickets he declined to pay 
 any expenses, and returned home. The good city 
 alderman, however, took this on himself. 
 
 Some drafts of a will found among her papers, 
 unexecuted, reveal to us the warm, passionate nature 
 of this woman, more sensitive to petty wrongs than 
 to great ones, and scarcely yet able to appreciate 
 the incredible bitterness of the thought that Nel- 
 son's countrymen would allow Nelson's Emma to 
 sink in neglect and even starvation before their 
 eyes. There is a curious natural quaintness in the 
 phraseology; and the passages I have underlined are 
 curious. 
 
 "Merton, October 7th, 1806. 
 
 "I, Emma Hamilton, being in sound body and 
 mind, leave this as my last will and testament. I 
 beg, as the virtuous and dear Nelson wished me to be 
 buried near him, that, if it is possible, I may be ; but 
 if it cannot be, then let me be buried at Merton ; but 
 if it is possible, let me rest near my ever-beloved 
 Nelson. I give to my dear mother, formerly Mary 
 Kidd, then Lions, and after Mary Doggen, or Cadogan, 
 Jwwever s/ie may be called, all my property, let it be 
 either in wearing apparel or furniture, gold, silver, 
 jewels, pictures, wine, and everything in the house at 
 Merton, and seventy acres, which the glorious Nelson 
 left me, and two acres and a half which I have bought
 
 264 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUK, 
 
 since, added to it, all of which I give to my dear 
 mother for her natural life ; and, after her death, I 
 give all I have mentioned to my dear Horatia Nelson 
 Thompson, orproperly, Horatia Nelson, and her children 
 for ever. . . . Also, I beg to leave to my dear Horatia 
 Nelson that she pays the above yearly pensions : 
 one hundred a year, and fifty pounds, to Sarah 
 Eeynolds and Caroline Connor. I do not leave any- 
 thing to Ann, or Mary Ann Connor, as she has been 
 a wicked, story-telling young woman, and tried to 
 defame her best friends and relations. I leave 
 Horatia Nelson a ward in Chancery, and I beg my 
 dear friends, George Mathison and his wife, to have 
 the goodness to see after her education, and that she 
 is properly brought up after her mother's death. If 
 tJiey see to this Nelson's and Emma's spirits uill look 
 down on them and bless them. My dearest mother I 
 leave executrix with full power. If I have not men- 
 tioned everything, I leave all I am possessed of 
 and have to my mother for her natural life, and 
 after to Horatia Nelson, she being six years old." 
 
 Two years afterwards she writes another paper, in 
 which she recurs yet more bitterly to her treatment 
 by Mrs. Connor. It is dated 
 
 " October 16th, 1808. 
 
 " If I can be buried in St. Paul's, I shall be very 
 happy to be near to glorious Nelson, whom I
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 265 
 
 loved and admired, as once Sir William Nelson 
 (Hamilton ?), and I had agreed we should all be 
 buried near each other. This would have been that 
 three persons, who were so much attached to each 
 other from virtue and friendship, should have been 
 laid in one grave when they quitted this slanderous, 
 ill-natured world. But 'tis past ; and in Heaven I 
 hope we shall meet. If I am not permitted to be 
 buried in St. Paul's, let me be put where 1 shall be 
 near my dear mother, when she is called from this 
 ungrateful world. But I hope she will live to be 
 a mother to Nelson's child, Horatia. I beg that 
 Merton may be sold, and all debts paid ; and what- 
 ever money shall be left after all debts are paid, I 
 give to my dear mother, and, after her death, to my 
 dear Horatia Nelson. I also give all I am possessed 
 of in this world to my dear mother, Mary Doggen, 
 or Cadogan, for her use ; and, after her death, to 
 Horatia Nelson. I hope Mr. George Eose will be 
 my executor, and take care of my dear mother and 
 Horatia ; and if he should not be living, I hope his 
 eldest son will perform this last favour and see 
 justice done to Nelson's daughter; and also I beg 
 His Koyal Highness the Prince of Wales, as he dearly 
 loved Nelson, that His Royal Highness will protect 
 his child, and be kind to her ; for this I beg of him, 
 for there is no one I so highly regard as his Royal 
 Highness. Also my good friend the Duke of Queens-
 
 266 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 berry, I beg of him, as Nelson beseeched of him to be 
 kind to me, so I recommend my dear mother and 
 Horatia to him. / have done my King and county 
 some service ; but as they were ungrateful enough to 
 neglect the request of the virtuous Nelson in providing 
 for me, I do not expect they will do anything for his 
 child; but if there should be any administrating at 
 my death, with heart and feeling I beg tJiey ivill 
 provide for Horatia Nelson, the child who would 
 have Jiad a future if he had not gone forth to figlit 
 his country's battles; therefore, she has a claim on 
 them." 
 
 There is a rude, burning eloquence in these words 
 an inexpressible bitterness. Not less characteristic 
 is the sudden turn to the Connor grievance, and the 
 language is not less excited : 
 
 " I declare before God, and as I hope to see 
 Nelson in heaven, that Ann Connor, who goes by the 
 name of Carew, and tells many falsehoods that she is 
 my daughter, but from what motive I know not ; I 
 declare that she is the eldest daughter of my mother's 
 sister Sarah Connor, and that I have the mother and 
 six children to keep, all of them except two having 
 turned out bad. I therefore beg of my mother to be 
 kind to the two good ones, Sarah and Amelia. This 
 family having by their extravagance almost ruined 
 me, I have nothing to leave them ; but I pray God
 
 LADY HAMILTON. 267 
 
 to turn Ann Connor's, alias Carew's, heart. I forgive 
 her ; but there is a madness in the Connor family. 
 I hope it is only the effect of this disorder that may 
 have induced this bad young woman to have perse- 
 cuted me by her falsehoods." 
 
 What a beginning ! what a finale ! Anyone 
 standing before the charming face at South Kensington 
 its grace, enjouemmt, elegance would not credit 
 such a history.
 
 THE BEAUTIFUL GUNNINGS.
 
 THE BEAUTIFUL GUNNINGS. 
 
 THIS may be thought an old and familiar story, but 
 it is well worth relating at greater length than it has 
 hitherto been told ; indeed, little more than the out- 
 line of the romantic history of these two girls is 
 known to the general reader. 
 
 About the middle of the last century, there was a 
 certain Irish country gentleman living down in the west 
 of Ireland, who is set down in the books of heraldry as 
 " John Gunning, Esquire, of Co. Koscomrnon." Mr. 
 Gunning fulfilled the customary function of many 
 Irish gentlemen of that day, shooting snipe, and per- 
 haps Irish gentlemen, and certainly never dreamed 
 of the destiny that was in store for his two little 
 daughters. He had made a good connection, marry- 
 ing a sister of Lord Mayo's, so that the obscurity of 
 the little girls is not such as has been represented, 
 nor their rise so extraordinary. They were born at
 
 272 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 Castlecoote, their father's place ; Maria, the eldest, 
 in the year 1733 ; the other, Elizabeth, a year later. 
 The family consisted of one son and five daughters 
 namely, John, Mary, Elizabeth, Catherine, Lizzy, and 
 Sophia. John grew up from being "a sweet little 
 boy," as one who knew him called him, entered the 
 Army, fought with distinction at Bunker's Hill, 
 became a major-general, and Sir John Gunning. 
 The first girl was to be hereafter Countess of 
 Coventry and titular belle of the English court ; 
 the other was to wed successively the Duke of 
 Hamilton and Duke of Argyll, and become the 
 mother of four dukes elevations which, however 
 striking, have been paralleled. Not so, however, that 
 union of beauty, fortune, rank, and romance. There 
 were, indeed, three beautiful sisters ; and, looking at 
 the prints, it would not be difficult to award the palm. 
 Lady Coventry was the most attractive. Her sister, 
 who made a comparatively obscure marriage to Mr. 
 Travis, was almost as handsome, having the same 
 small mouth and elegant features. The Duchess was 
 of a graver cast. 
 
 "John Gunning, Esquire," does not appear to 
 have risen with his children, nor would public 
 curiosity be likely to be much excited in his behalf. 
 He had come up to Dublin, and had lived in that 
 gay capital during one of its gayest epochs, until he 
 could reside there no longer ; and, as we are naively
 
 THE BEAUTIFUL GUNNINGS. 273 
 
 told, had been " obliged to retire into the country, to 
 avoid the disagreeable consequences that must ensue" 
 
 An odd, irregular actress, who about this time 
 had an engagement at Mr. Sheridan's theatre in 
 Dublin, happened to be one day returning from 
 rehearsal. When at the bottom of Great Britain 
 Street, she heard what she called " the voice of 
 distress." These were the times when sentiment 
 was fast coming into fashion, both before and behind 
 the curtain. So, on hearing " the voice of distress " 
 in Britain Street, the actress at once turned in the 
 direction, entered a house, and, without ceremony, 
 proceeded upstairs. Strange men, however, stood at 
 the door, and in the parlour she found a distressed 
 family, consisting of "a woman of a most elegant 
 figure," and who was the centre of a group of " four 
 beautiful girls " and " a sweet boy of about three 
 years." The united voices of this young family had 
 joined in the mournful chorus which had so irre- 
 sistibly attracted the actress in Britain Street. 
 
 The " woman of a most elegant figure " proved to 
 be Mrs. Gunning, wife of "John Gunning, Esquire, 
 Co. Roscommon ; " she received her guest very 
 politely, and complimented her "upon possessing 
 such humane sensations." She then entered upon 
 an explanation of her position how they had lived 
 beyond their income, and how John Gunning, 
 Esquire, had been obliged, as before mentioned, 
 
 VOL. L T
 
 274 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 " to retire into the country, to avoid the disagree- 
 able consequences that must ensue." Some hopes 
 had been entertained that Lord Mayo, her brother, 
 would have come forward, " listening to the dictates 
 of fraternal affection," and have done something for 
 
 ' O 
 
 Mr. Gunning and his family ; but this hope had 
 turned out quite futile ; and the ill-looking officials 
 at the door were actually preparing to carry out 
 their stern duty, in virtue of the powers confided to 
 them by the high sheriff. The future countess and 
 double duchess were awaiting with tears this indig- 
 nity in what is now one of the obscurest streets in 
 the city. But what shall be said of Mr. John 
 Gunning, who had "withdrawn into the country," 
 to avoid the inconveniences of this proceeding, and 
 left his family to face bailiffs and executions ? 
 
 The actress and the lady, however, soon arranged 
 a practical plan. It was resolved that, when dark- 
 ness set in, the actress's man-servant should be 
 despatched to Britain Street, to stand under the 
 drawing-room, and catch any light articles that 
 should be thrown down to him, that something 
 might be saved. 
 
 o 
 
 Further, the good-natured actress actually agreed 
 to take in the whole of the young family and their 
 servant until some arrangement could be made. 
 Not long after, " Miss Burke, Mrs. Gunning's sister, a 
 lady of exemplary piety who had passed her probation
 
 THE BEAUTIFUL GUNNINGS. 275 
 
 in the community of Channel Row," sent for the 
 younger children ; but the two remained with the 
 actress. Maria, the elder, seems to have been " all 
 life and spirits," a sort of boisterous hoiden ; the 
 other was "more reserved and solid." 
 
 This charitable actress was the well-known George 
 Anne Bellamy, who has left behind her some out- 
 spoken, rather vulgar memoirs, but which are yet 
 natural and characteristic, tinged also with garrulity, 
 so as to become very entertaining. These were services 
 which should have left a sense of obligation. 
 
 After this odd incident the actress was drifted 
 away to London, and became lost in the whirl of 
 theatrical intrigue. How the Gunning family were 
 finally extricated does not appear ; but Maria, our 
 heroine, wrote her benefactress a letter strange both 
 in orthography and composition but which seems 
 so overdone in its mistakes as to excite reasonable 
 suspicion. It is known, however, that these beauties 
 were sadly illiterate, and so the letter is to a certain 
 degree in keeping. It was addressed to "Miss Bellamy 
 in*England." 
 
 The following are some characteristic extracts : 
 
 " I rece d my dearest Miss Bellamy letter at last ; 
 after her long silence, indeed I was very jealous with 
 
 T 2
 
 276 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUK. 
 
 you, but you make me amen's in Letting me hear 
 from you now. it gives me great joy and all our 
 faimley to hear that yr Dear mama and your Dearest 
 self are in perfict health to be sure that yr Relations 
 where fighting to see which of them shod have you last 
 and Longest with y m . ... I am very unfortunate to 
 be in the country when our Vaux Hall was. If I was 
 in Town I shod be thear and I believe I should be 
 much more delighted than at a publicker diversion. 
 ... I don't believe it was Mr. Knox you read of at 
 Bath for he is hear. Dublin is the stupites place. . . . 
 I believe Sheredian can get no one to play with him 
 is doing all he can to get frinds for him sef to be 
 sure you have hread he is marrd for sirtain to Miss 
 Chamberlan. a sweet pare. 
 
 " I must bid a due and shall only say I am my 
 
 D r your ever affe cnat 
 
 "M. GUNNING." 
 
 After all, this spelling was hardly exceptional at 
 the period. Mr. Sterne's MSS. are full of faults 
 almost as gross ; and he talks of " opening a dore." 
 
 What became of the " sweet little boy " has been 
 mentioned. Of the three sisters, one, who is un- 
 known to fame, Catherine, married an undistinguished 
 gentleman who, as we have mentioned, has only come 
 down to posterity as " Robert Travis, Esquire." The 
 account of the undistinguished portion of the family
 
 THE BEAUTIFUL GUff KINGS. 277 
 
 was written by an ancient parish clerk, in a letter 
 to a Mr. Madder, of Fulham, and, appropriately 
 enough, was adorned with spelling quite as un- 
 orthodox. "I take the freedom," says this odd 
 document, which is dated from Huntingdonshire, "in 
 wrighting to you from an information of Mr. War- 
 rington, that you would be glad to have the account 
 of my Townswoman, the Notefied, the Famis, Beau- 
 tifull Miss Gunnings, born at Hemmingfordgrey, tho 
 they left the Parish before I had knoledge enough 
 to remember them, and I was born in 32. But I 
 will give you the best account I can, which I believe 
 is better than any man in the country besides myself, 
 though I have not the Birth Eegister for so long 
 a Date, and since Dr. Dickens is dead, I don't know 
 where it is." He then tells of the two elder sisters ; 
 and recollects distinctly seeing the Portrait of the 
 wife of Robert Travis, Esq., in a print-shop, "I 
 beleeve in St. PouFs Churchyard ; " and who had 
 acquired a sort of reflected reputation from her sister's 
 fame. This was an oval after Cotes, with a scrap of 
 doggerel underneath : 
 
 'oo 
 
 This youngest grace, so like her sister's frame, 
 Her kindred features tell from whence she came : 
 'Tis needless once to mention Gunning's name. 
 
 This is probably an hallucination of the worthy 
 clerk's, as the sisters appear certainly to have been
 
 278 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 born in the sister country ; but which the memory of 
 the ancient parish fashioned into something more 
 elaborate : 
 
 The youngest of these Beauties here we have in view, 
 So like in person to the other two ; 
 Whoever views her person and her fame, 
 Will see at once that Gunning is her name. 
 
 " Which," he adds, " is the best account I can give of 
 them three ; but then there was two more, which 
 perhaps you don't know anything about; which I 
 will give you the true Mortalich Kegester off, from 
 a Black mavel which lies in our chancel, as follows." 
 
 The " black mavel " tells the story of the lives of 
 little Sophia and Lizzy, in a pretty inscription. 
 
 By-and-by the two belles, now grown up, were 
 taken over to London, and almost instantly caused 
 a success and sensation, for which a parallel, in that 
 department, can scarcely be found. They had no 
 fortune, they had slender connections ; but fashion 
 in these days was more or less republican. In a 
 society a little wild and frank in tone, and where 
 men of the stamp of Lord March, Selwyn, Mr. Wilkes, 
 and Sir Francis Dashwood were leaders, the claims 
 of dazzling beauty were not to be resisted. They 
 took the town by storm. They burst upon the metro- 
 polis in the early months of the year 1751. Walpole, 
 that most full and delightful chronicler, made this
 
 THE BEAUTIFUL GUNNINGS. 279 
 
 appearance a leading item in his next budget for 
 Florence. The wranglings of ministers, he wrote to 
 his friend, were regarded with utter indifference. The 
 
 ' O 
 
 Miss Gunnings were in everybody's mouth, "being 
 twenty times " more talked of than the Newcastle 
 family and Lord Granville. These, he says, are "two 
 Irish girls of no fortune, who are declared the hand- 
 somest women alive. I think," says the critical 
 Horace acutely, "their being two so handsome and 
 such perfect figures is their chief excellence, for 
 singly I have seen much handsomer women than 
 either." 
 
 Many stories flutter about as to their first entry 
 on the gay London social boards. Mrs. Gunning was 
 not likely to step from Great Britain Street into the 
 Mayfair of those days without some trick of honour- 
 able society being specially contrived for her. One 
 legend was, that some cruel wag sent them sham 
 cards for a great lady's masquerade, but which the 
 Irish mother was skilful enough to detect, and which 
 she " improved " with the wit and daring of her 
 country. She waited on the noble lady in person, 
 taking care to bring with her one of her matchless 
 daughters. She told of her false card. The eyes 
 of the noble lady fell upon the daughter. She 
 thought of her masquerade, and, as may be imagined, 
 substituted a genuine for the forged invitation. 
 
 The new belles received a shape of homage that
 
 280 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 was almost inconvenient ; for when they went forth 
 upon the public prado, and took the air in the parks 
 at fashionable hours, they were attended by such 
 admiring crowds that it soon became impossible to 
 pursue their walk. The public admiration was not 
 restrained by any feeling of delicacy, and was perhaps 
 the more acceptable as an honest testimonial. That 
 was in June. In August they were still cynosures, 
 and " make more noise than any of their predecessors 
 since the days of Helen." No wonder Mrs. Montagu 
 spoke of them as " those goddesses the Gunnings." 
 
 But their fresh naivete, and, it must be said, rough 
 brusquerie, laid them open to all manner of strange 
 stories and ill-natured remarks. An odd legend went 
 round the clubs. They went down to see the paint- 
 ings at Hampton Court, and having passed into what 
 was called the Beauty Room, where are the question- 
 able shepherdesses of King Charles, they heard the 
 housekeeper show another company in with this intro- 
 duction, "Ladies, here are the Beauties." The wild 
 pair, assuming this to be directed to themselves, flew 
 into a violent rage, asked her what she meant that 
 they came to see the palace and paintings, not to be 
 shown themselves. 
 
 They were adopted into the best society. About 
 Christmas in the same year it was not surprising that 
 each should have a distinguished adorer. James, 
 Duke of Hamilton, a wild roue Scotch nobleman,
 
 THE BEAUTIFUL GUNNINGS. 281 
 
 " equally damaged in his fortune and person," says 
 the bitter Horace, met her at a masquerade, and fell 
 desperately in love with Elizabeth, the younger. 
 Lord Coventry, " a grave young lord of the patriot 
 breed," was the professed admirer of the other. 
 Everyone watched the progress of the business 
 eagerly. The malign Lord Chesterfield was in- 
 clined to think it would end doubtfully for the 
 honour of the lady. 
 
 She and her mother played a bold but skilful 
 game. They appeared everywhere with the noble 
 suitor. When he had to move the address in the 
 House of Lords the brilliant girl sat beside him, and 
 thus caused him to be agitated by the two passions 
 of fear and love. Her mother told Lord Granville 
 afterwards that " the poor girl was near fainting with 
 agitation." The duke vaguely proposed marriage 
 some time in the spring. 
 
 Lord Chesterfield presently gave a magnificent 
 assembly, at which every person of quality was 
 present, who were to be amused with the spectacle 
 of the duke's frantic courtship. He sat at one end 
 of the room, and played faro and carried on a dis- 
 orderly flirtation with the young beauty who was at 
 the other end. Three hundred pounds was on each 
 board ; so, in a very short time, by these tactics, 
 he was a loser of nearly 1000/. The Honourable 
 Horace Walpole was among the company, taking
 
 282 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR 
 
 sarcastic notes. " I own," he said, " I was so little a 
 professor in love that I thought all this parade looked 
 ill for the poor girl, and could not conceive, if he was 
 so much engaged with his mistress as to disregard 
 such sums, why he played at all." 
 
 Two nights afterwards, the strange denouement 
 came about. Her mother and sister were away at 
 Bedford House, and the duke found himself alone 
 with the belle. A sudden ardour whether of wine 
 or affection seized on him, and he insisted on having 
 the ceremony performed at once, and on the spot. 
 A parson was promptly sent for, but, on arriving, 
 refused to officiate without the important essentials 
 of a license or a ring, neither of which had been 
 thought of. The duke swore, and talked of calling 
 in the archbishop. Finally, the parson's scruples 
 gave way before his impatience ; the license was 
 overlooked, and the lack of the traditional gold 
 ring was happily supplied by the ring of a bed- 
 curtain ! Thus the ardent duke was at, last] lawfully 
 married, at midnight, in Mayfair Chapel, on February 
 14th, 1752. 
 
 This adventure threw all London into an uproar. 
 The Scotch were furious ; " the women mad that so 
 much beauty has had its effect " (thus the bitter 
 Horace) ; and, better than all, it had a stimulating 
 effect on the admirers of her sister ; for Lord Coventry 
 at once gave out that he intended marrying the
 
 THE BEAUTIFUL GUNNINGS. 283 
 
 sister ; and, within three weeks, on the 5th of March, 
 1752, she was, according to the suitable phrase, "led 
 to the hymeneal altar." This rise in their fortunes 
 brought about a perfect furore, both of curiosity and 
 of enthusiasm. The public, who had crowded before 
 to see them as " the Gunnings," with the true instinct 
 of a mob, became frantic to see them again in their 
 new and higher station. We see in the old music- 
 books a Lady Coventry's minuet. When the duchess 
 was presented at court, the noble persons at St. 
 James's actually climbed up on tables and chairs to 
 have a good stare, like a mere vulgar crowd. When 
 they came out to their chairs to go to parties, they 
 found immense mobs gathered. There was a rush to 
 take places at the theatres if it became known they 
 were going. 
 
 The critics, however, were not unanimous. The 
 Duchess of Somerset thought her " too tall to be 
 genteel, and her face out of proportion to her height." 
 Her dress, too, was thought rather to savour of the 
 ballet than of an English lady of quality. To the 
 duchess, Lady Di Egerton and Mrs. Selwyn appeared 
 quite as pretty and a good deal more modest. 
 
 In a few weeks their lords took the brides down 
 to their respective castles, and, says Walpole, "one 
 hears no more about them," save this simple fact, 
 which amounted to a good deal, that when the 
 duchess put up one night at a Yorkshire inn, no less
 
 284 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR 
 
 than seven hundred people sat up all night round 
 it to see her get into her post-chaise in the morn- 
 ing ! She was always good-natured, and gave Tate 
 Wilkinson benefits at his country theatre. 
 
 When the season came round again there were no 
 signs of a reaction. But a new beauty had appeared 
 in the horizon, and comparisons began to be made. 
 The world was talking of Lady Caroline Petersham. 
 Mrs. Grenville, writing to her husband, tells him, as 
 a little bit of gossip, that the " Morocco ambassador " 
 whose standard of beauty, however, would have 
 been directed by barbaric canons actually preferred 
 Lady Caroline to Lady Coventry. Both were now 
 being taken over to another metropolis, to confound 
 our hereditary enemies or allies? in .their own 
 capital. The Gunnings arrived with a vast prestige. 
 A lucky shoemaker of Worcester was making her a 
 pair of shoes, and actually " turned " two guineas and 
 a half, in pennies, for showing them ! Still the old 
 gauclierie was not softened down ; rather it became 
 more conspicuous by their high position ; and the ill- 
 natured public indemnified itself for its insane freaks 
 of admiration by circulating all manner of what are 
 called spropositos. " I can't say," even Mr. Walpole 
 must admit, " her genius is equal to her beauty." It 
 would be unreasonable to expect such a combination. 
 
 Looking at the brilliant mezzotint which once 
 hung in the print-shops, we can gather a faint notion
 
 THE BEAUTIFUL GUNNINGS. 285 
 
 of those wonderful charms which once so dazzled the 
 London lieges. Something very bright, very spiritual, 
 very dazzling; but what all agree was the greater 
 charm is, of course, lost. This was the extraordinary 
 play of expression, which comes from wild spirits, 
 and which may still be seen in many Irish girls. 
 Mrs. Delany saw her often, and noted this special 
 attraction. " She has a thousand dimples and pretti- 
 nesses in her cheeks, her eyes a little drooping at 
 the corners, but fine for all that ; she has a thousand 
 airs, but with a sort of humour that diverts me." 
 There was a good deal of the hoiden about her, with 
 much of that polite sauciness which is more or less 
 the titular belle's prerogative. The pretty elegy, in 
 which the Kev. Mr. Mason bewailed her loss, touches 
 very happily on these charms, and, with the aid of 
 her picture, sets her before us. 
 
 Whene'er with soft serenity she smiled, 
 
 Or caught the orient blush of quick surprise, 
 How sweetly mutable, how brightly wild 
 
 The liquid lustre darted from her eyes ! 
 Each look, each motion, waked a new-born grace 
 
 That o'er her form a transient glory cast ; 
 Some lovelier wonder soon usurp'd the place, 
 
 Chased by a charm still lovelier than the last. 
 
 Mr. Mason's lines were greatly relished at Cam- 
 bridge. They were got by heart and adapted to the 
 charms of university seamstresses and bed-makers. 
 
 This was the figure that the Parisians now saw at
 
 286 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 all their leading fetes ; but, as might be expected, the 
 French refused to confess the admiration, or, at least, 
 would not allow themselves to be dazzled. It is 
 natural, indeed, that when a beauty or singer comes, 
 with heraldings and flourishes, their patents should 
 be looked into jealously. Lady Caroline Petersham 
 they dismissed contemptuously, not crediting that she 
 had ever been handsome. Lady Coventry was ad- 
 mitted to be passable. But there was a native belle 
 in the field, one Madame Brionnc, to whose charms 
 even the English abroad testified; and French beauty, 
 fortified with the graces of French wit and training, 
 and refined by the associations of the most elegant 
 court, was scarcely fair competition. The Koscommon 
 girl, as her friend Walpole remarked, " was under 
 piteous disadvantages." For she was " very silly, 
 ignorant of the world," and could not speak a word 
 of French ; and was not to be redeemed as to any of 
 these failings by her husband, who was the best illus- 
 tration in the world of what the French call bete. 
 He is described as being " silly in a wise way, igno- 
 rant, ill-bred, and speaking very little French himself 
 just enough to show how ill-bred he is." He was a 
 sort of titled, fox-hunting squire. He was, besides, 
 very jealous a fatal and unpardonable sottise with 
 the French and almost childish in his treatment of 
 her. He would not tolerate any rouge or powder 
 upon her cheeks, adornments then so fashionable, and
 
 THE BEAUTIFUL GUNNINGS. 287 
 
 which was indeed an excusable stretch of conjugal 
 tyranny. 
 
 At a large dinner-party at Sir John Eland's, he 
 fancied he perceived the presence of this forbidden 
 cosmetic on her cheek, and instantly rose, chased her 
 round the table, caught her, and with a napkin, 
 actually "scrubbed it off by force" it may be 
 imagined to the intense amusement and surprise of 
 the persons of quality then assembled. He then set 
 off in a pet, and told her publicly that since she had 
 deceived him and broken her promise he would take 
 her back to England. 
 
 It does not appear that she was presented at the 
 court of the gallant monarch who then ruled France ; 
 at least, that scrupulous courtier, Dangeau, who 
 registered every presentation, makes no mention of 
 her. The French, however, were very anxious they 
 should stay for the grand fetes at St. Cloud that 
 evening, but her lord said he was obliged to return, 
 as he said he would not like to miss a musical meeting 
 
 o 
 
 at Worcester. There were some fireworks at Madame 
 Pompadour's, to which she was invited, but she 
 excused herself on the ground of her music-master 
 coming at that hour. The Due de Luxembourg, the 
 pink of French quality, when they were having some 
 party, came to tell him that he had called up Milady 
 Coventry's coach, upon which my lord said, " Vous avez 
 fort lien fait." The coinble to these joint Metises was
 
 288 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 when the Marechale de Lowendahl admired an English 
 fan of Lady Coventry's, who, upon that, presented it 
 to her. But next morning there came a letter, asking 
 it back, and saying that it had been presented by my 
 lord before marriage, and that parting with it would 
 cause an "irreparable breach." An old one was sent 
 instead. On this, the beautiful stranger went round 
 telling her wrongs to everybody, saying, it is " so odd 
 my lord should treat her in this way, when she knew 
 he would die for her, and he had been so kind as to 
 marry her without a shilling." It may be imagined 
 what the polite but amazed Frenchmen thought of 
 these confidences. It must, however, be recollected 
 she was no more than eighteen. 
 
 They then returned to London. The year after 
 Mrs. Delany saw her at a party a party where the 
 Duke of Portland wore "a coat of dark mouse- 
 coloured velvet," and a vest of "Isabella velvet "- 
 and described her as "looking in high beauty." 
 
 In the November of the following year, one Sunday 
 afternoon, a ducal friend brought the famous countess 
 from church to visit Mrs. Delany " To feast me ; 
 and a feast indeed she was." Her dress was "a black 
 silk sack, made for a large hoop, which she wore 
 without any, and it trailed a yard on the ground." 
 She also wore "a cobwebbed lace handkerchief, a 
 pink satin long cloke, lined with ermine mixed with 
 squirrel skins." That wonderful face was adorned
 
 THE BEAUTIFUL GUXNIXGS. 289 
 
 with "a French cap that just covered the top of her 
 head of blonde and stood in the form of a butterfly 
 ivith wings not quite extended." The whole was 
 completed by lappets tied under the chin with pink 
 and green ribbons ; a headdress, in short, which 
 charmed the Dean of Down's lady. Still she was 
 struck by "a sort of silly look at times about her 
 mouth ; " and in the portraits there are traces about 
 that feature of a little weakness. 
 
 After all, she seems to have had a sort of un- 
 sophisticated good-nature, which all the extravagant 
 worship she was paid did not impair. She was not a 
 " hollow " beauty, and had friends as well as admirers. 
 One of the prettiest stories about her, is her behaviour 
 to a young hoiden (a belle also, whom fickle London 
 was already beginning to talk of) who had naively 
 asked to have her pointed out to her. 
 
 A grand masquerade had been given at Somerset 
 House, at which was this little Irish beauty a 
 Miss Allen an unsophisticated "lively sort of a 
 fairy," says Mrs. Delany. She went up to Lady 
 Coventry, and, looking at her very earnestly, said, 
 " I have indeed heard a great deal of this lady's 
 beauty, but it far surpasses all I have heard.' 5 
 "What!" said the other Irish belle, "did you never 
 see me before ? " The young girl's naivete amused 
 everybody. A gentleman then took her about, showed 
 her everything, got her a good seat at supper every- 
 VOL. i. u
 
 290 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 one, to the astonishment of the young girl, bowing 
 and making way for them. At the end of the night 
 he turned out to be the Duke of York. The story 
 has quite a Cinderella air. 
 
 Horace Walpole testifies to this good-humour 
 under certainly trying circumstances. " If she was 
 not," he says, "the best-humoured creature in the 
 world, I should have made her angry." It was at a 
 great supper at Lord Hertford's, and the beauty was 
 asked to take some more wine. She answered " in a 
 very vulgar accent, if she drank more she should be 
 muckibus ! ' Lord ! ' said Lady Mary Coke, * what 
 is that ? ' ' Oh ! ' said Mr. Walpole, ' it is only 
 Irish for sentiment.' ' Lady Mary Coke, we may be 
 sure, would not be slack to point attention to the odd 
 phrase. 
 
 Her short race was but for eight years ; and yet, 
 to the last, London training seems to have had but 
 little effect on the old wild nature. Jn one sense, 
 this is a good testimony to her disposition. Even 
 the year before her death Mr. Jenkinson filled in a 
 corner of one of his letters with a story about her 
 which was then amusing all London "a silly 
 action " he calls it. Walking in the Park, the mob 
 had been disrespectful, incited by her airs. It came 
 to the ears of the King that good-natured King to 
 whom she had said, that of all the sights in the 
 world, " she longed to see a coronation " and on
 
 THE BEAUTIFUL GUNNINGS. 291 
 
 the followng Sunday evening he sent her a guard, 
 to attend her as she walked. A discreet person 
 would have declined the questionable honour, but the 
 saucy countess exulted in her escort, and made a 
 triumphant progress with "two sergeants in front 
 carrying their halberds, and twelve soldiers following 
 behind, and the whole guard held ready close by to 
 turn out at a moment's notice." Thus attended, the 
 gay countess continued her promenade from eight 
 until ten o'clock, the mob also forming part of the 
 procession, and not restrained by the military force 
 from uttering some plain truths so plain, indeed, 
 that " Fielding's men " had to take up a few. As 
 an illustration of that " silliness in the mouth " which 
 Mrs. Delany remarked, this is worth a whole essay. 
 
 So her short butterfly life passed. We have 
 glimpses of her down at Crome, the family seat, with 
 a house full of company, and " Gilly Williams," one 
 of the Selwyn set (whose letters should be more 
 known), and " old Sandys ; " while the Earl good- 
 naturedly held a faro bank every night, which "we 
 have as yet," writes Gilly, " plundered considerably." 
 There was a certain captain there who is mentioned 
 as "studying a pretty attitude for the countess." 
 She was then "in- high spirits and great beauty." 
 Poor countess ! 
 
 But in August, 1760, she fell sick. That bour- 
 geois husband of hers was not altogether so foolish in 
 
 u 2
 
 292 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 his generation when he chased her round the Paris 
 dining-room and rubbed the paint off her cheeks with 
 a napkin ; for she had since had her own way, and 
 used to daub her cheeks profusely with white lead. 
 To this abominable custom one of the sacrifices 
 which Moloch fashion then demanded she is said to 
 have fallen a victim. She was living down at her 
 own place, and a Doctor Wall, who attended on her, 
 wrote to Mr. Selwyn an account of her sickness, 
 making, as he said, "no excuse for being minute, 
 because I believe that it would be most agreeable to 
 you that I should be so." For the profound wit was 
 one of her admirers. 
 
 The doctor gives a touching and graphic account 
 of this last illness. 
 
 "Crome, August 8th, 1760. 
 "SIR, 
 
 " I have spent almost all my time at this 
 place since my lord went to London ; and, indeed, 
 Lady Coventry has been so extremely ill, so much 
 worse than when you saw her last, that she wanted 
 all the attendance I could give her. For two or three 
 days the oppression on her breast and the sickness at 
 her stomach were excessive ; but these were at last 
 happily removed by some medicines, which, indeed, 
 operated a little roughly ; but it was a necessary 
 severity, for she could not have lived without it. 
 She has now for two or three days complained of a
 
 THE BEAUTIFUL GUXSTNGS. 293 
 
 pain in her side and across the breast, which I 
 look upon to be muscular, and a sort of spasmodic 
 rheumatism. Excuse me for using terms of art, but 
 I don't know how to express myself without them. 
 Her pulse, notwithstanding this, has for three days 
 last past been very remarkably slower, her feverish 
 heats less than usual. She is extremely weak. 
 Yesterday morning a letter came from the Duchess 
 of Hamilton, directed for Lord Coventry. She knew 
 the hand, and unluckily opened it. 
 
 Hinc illse lachrymse ! 
 
 " The duchess had too plainly explained her senti- 
 ments of Lady Coventry's condition ; had lamented 
 her as a sister whom she should never see ; had 
 entirely given her up, expressing her concern as for 
 one already in the grave. 
 
 " You, who know how apt Lady Coventry is to be 
 affected, may easily conceive the anguish which such 
 a letter would occasion. Indeed, it did almost kill 
 her. I was called to her, and found her almost 
 fainting and dying away. However, she soon after 
 recovered, and I took my leave ; but after I was gone 
 the same scene was several times renewed. Her at- 
 tendants thought her expiring. In their hurry they 
 despatched an express to my lord, who, I suppose, 
 will, in consequence of that, be here this evening. 
 However, she has had a very good night, and is
 
 294 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 tolerably well this morning. I make no excuse for 
 being so minute, because I believed it would be most 
 agreeable to you that I should be so." 
 
 It is really painful to read how she was aifected 
 by the news of her approaching end. She was never 
 without a pocket-glass in her hand, and this sad 
 truth-teller betrayed to her the ravages of disease. 
 She seems to have lost all hope and spirit, took to 
 her bed permanently, allowed no light in the room 
 but "the lamp of a tea-kettle," and actually took 
 things in through the curtains without suffering them 
 to be withdrawn. 
 
 " Odious in woollen ! 'twould a saint provoke ! " 
 
 "Were the last words that Narcissa spoke. 
 " No ; let a charming chintz and Brussels lace 
 
 Wrap my cold limbs and shade my lifeless face ; 
 
 One would not, sure, be frightful when one's dead ; 
 
 And, Betty, give this cheek a little red." 
 
 But on October 1st, 1760, she died. Mr. 
 Walpole was affected at the news, and wrote to his 
 friend : " The charming countess is dead at last ; and, 
 as if the whole history of both sisters was to be 
 extraordinary, the Duchess of Hamilton is in a con- 
 sumption too, and going abroad directly. Perhaps 
 you may see the remains of these prodigies. You 
 will see but little remains : her features were never 
 so beautiful as Lady Coventry's, and she has long
 
 THE BEAUTIFUL GUXNIXGS. 295 
 
 been changed, though not yet, I think, above six- 
 and-twenty. The other was but twenty-seven." 
 
 Her worthy lord soon recovered her loss, and in 
 1764 wedded Miss Barbara St. John. 
 
 "An odd event," writes Mrs. Harris to her son, 
 " happened the day they were to have been married. 
 His lordship had not got a license ; they were at 
 Lady St. John's house in the country ; my lord was 
 obliged to come up to Doctors' Commons to swear to 
 his own age, and also to Miss St. John's, and then to 
 send to Lambeth for the license ; but, unfortunately, 
 his grace was not at home. So it was agreed that 
 they had better eat the dinner rather than it should 
 be spoilt ; so to dinner they went, and sat all the 
 afternoon, dressed in their white and silver, expecting 
 every moment the express from Lambeth; but nothing 
 came. The same reason still held good for eating a 
 supper as for eating the dinner ; and, in short, they 
 supped and sat till after two ; and then, by mutual 
 consent, dismissed the parson, and all retired. About 
 four the license came, but they were not married till 
 eleven that morning." 
 
 It was curious that the marriage ceremony was 
 attended by almost the same embarrassment that had 
 accompanied that of the Duke of Hamilton to Lady 
 Coventry's sister. One of the wild and witty comrades 
 Gilly Williams saw them on their honeymoon, and 
 his report has a bitter significance.
 
 296 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 Lady Coventry had left two little girls Maria and 
 Nanny in whom both Gilly Williams and Selwyn 
 were interested. 
 
 " You will certainly want to know how the children 
 relish their new relation. I will give you a trait of 
 Nanny that pleased me. When mademoiselle broke 
 it to them, Maria cried, and the little one said : ' Do 
 not cry, sister. If she is civil to us, we will be civil 
 to her ; if not, you know, we can sit up in our own 
 rooms, and take no notice of her.' There is a degree 
 of philosophy in this infant that I do not think age 
 can improve." 
 
 "MY DEAR GEORGE, 
 
 "You may talk as you please of what you 
 have seen and heard since we parted, but I would 
 not have given up my last night's supper for the 
 whole put together. The earl brought his new 
 countess to Margaret Street. You know him so well 
 that I dare say you are perfectly master of his words 
 and actions on such an occasion ; and as for her lady- 
 ship, it was all prettiness, fright, insipidity, question, 
 and answer, which neither gold stuffs, diamonds, a 
 new chair with a very large coronet in the centre, like 
 the Queen's neither of these, I say, had power to 
 alter ; and as my friend was never cut out for decent 
 and matrimonial gallantry, a very awkward air made 
 them both as entertaining a couple as ever I passed
 
 THE BEAUTIFUL GUNNINGS. 297 
 
 an hour with. They are to be introduced at court on 
 Sunday, and to set out for Crome the next day." 
 
 In another letter the same author describes what 
 he saw when visiting the "happy pair;" and his report 
 is in the vein of true comedy. 
 
 " I like," he says, " the behaviour of the children 
 much, and likewise the propriety of Bab's behaviour 
 to them ; but you would have laughed to have seen 
 what a hearty kiss the little one would often give 
 mademoiselle (their governess), as looking upon her 
 as the only real friend she had in the family. There 
 is no possibility of saying more of her at present, 
 than that she is very pretty ; the rest is all grimace. 
 But as to his lordship, he certainly surpasses all you 
 can conceive of him ; his plantations, his house, his 
 wife, his plate, his equipage, his etc. etc. etc. are 
 all topics that call forth his genius continually. We 
 went to church with them, and the curiosity of all 
 the neighbouring parishes would not have displeased 
 you. I thought I could hear, among the crowd, some 
 odious comparisons ; and these were all in favour of 
 our old friend " (the late beauty), " who lies very 
 quietly in the neighbourhood. I do not love to dea 
 in horoscopes, but his lordship will certainly tire of 
 this plaything, as he has done of all he has hitherto 
 played with, and be plagued with the noise of the 
 rattle when he is no longer pleased with blowing a
 
 298 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 the whistle. He means to instruct by lectures in his 
 table-talk, and by drawing pictures of good and bad 
 wives. You know how he succeeded in the last ; 
 God grant him better success in his present plan ! " 
 
 The Kev. Mr. Mason wrote the following touching 
 lines on the departed beauty : 
 
 Yes ! Coventry is dead. Attend the strain, 
 
 Daughters of Albion ! ye that, light as air, 
 So oft have tripp'd in her fantastic train, 
 
 With hearts as gay, and faces half as fair. 
 For she was fair beyond your brightest bloom 
 
 (This Envy owns, since now her bloom is fled) ; 
 Fair as the forms that, wove in Fancy's loom, 
 
 Float in light vision round the poet's head. 
 Whene'er with soft serenity she smiled, 
 
 Or caught the orient blush of quick surprise, 
 How sweetly mutable, how brightly wild 
 
 The liquid lustre darted from her eyes ! 
 Each look, each motion waked a new-born grace, 
 
 That o'er her form a transient glory cast ; 
 Some lovelier wonder soon usurped the place, 
 
 Chased by a charm still lovelier than k the last. 
 That bell again ! It tells us what she is ! 
 
 On what she was no more the strain prolong; 
 Luxuriant Fancy, pause : an hour like this 
 
 Demands the tribute of a serious song. 
 Maria claims it from that sable bier, 
 
 Where, cold and wan, the slumberer rests her head; 
 In still small whispers to Reflection's ear 
 
 She breathes the solemn dictates of the dead. 
 
 We now turn to her sister, who had lost her 
 husband, the Duke of Hamilton, in 1758. But in 
 1759 she was married, a second time, to Colonel
 
 THE BEAUTIFUL GUNNINGS. 299 
 
 Campbell, who afterwards became Duke of Argyll. 
 Her former husband had shown more than the 
 average Scotch pride ; and it was reported that the 
 duke and duchess used to sit in grim and solitary 
 state in their great Scotch castle, waited on by all 
 their servants ; and, when they had guests, walked 
 in together before their company. It is unpre- 
 cedented that a simple Irish girl, without fortune 
 beyond her face, should have lived to be the mother 
 of four dukes of James George and Douglas, seventh 
 and eighth Dukes of Hamilton ; of George William 
 and John Douglas, sixth and seventh Dukes of 
 Argyll. She was, moreover, created a baroness in 
 her own right ; and, besides, was the mother of 
 Lady Charlotte Campbell, one of the most beautiful 
 women of her day, and as lively and witty as she 
 was beautiful. One of the most dramatic and even 
 picturesque passages in "Boswell's Tour to the 
 Hebrides" is his account of his visit to Murray 
 Castle, in 1773 ; and of his treatment by this 
 haughty dame, then Duchess of Argyll. 
 
 " I told Dr. Johnson I was in some difficulty how 
 to act at Inverary. I had reason to think that the 
 Duchess of Argyll disliked me, on account of my zeal 
 in the Douglas cause ; but the Duke of Argyll had 
 always been pleased to treat me with great civility. 
 They were now at the castle, which is a very short 
 walk from our inn ; and the question was, whether I
 
 300 KIXGS AND QUEENS OF AX HOUR. 
 
 should go and pay my respects there. Dr. Johnson, 
 to whom I had stated the case, was clear that I 
 ought ; but in his usual way, he was very shy of 
 discovering a desire to be invited there himself. At 
 the same time he was, I believe, secretly not unwilling 
 to have attention paid him by so great a chieftain 
 and so exalted a nobleman. He insisted that I should 
 not go to the castle this day before dinner, as it would 
 look like seeking an invitation. ' But/ said I, ' if the 
 duke invites us to dine with him to-morrow, shall we 
 accept ? ' ' Yes, sir ; ' I think he said, ' to be sure. ' 
 But, he added, 'He won't ask us ! ' I mentioned that 
 I was afraid my company might be disagreeable to 
 the duchess. He treated this objection with a manly 
 disdain. ' That, sir, he must settle with his wife. ' 
 We dined well. I went to the castle just about the 
 time when I supposed the ladies would be retired 
 from dinner. I sent in my name ; and, being shown 
 in, found the amiable duke sitting at the head of his 
 table with several gentlemen. I was most politely 
 received, and gave his grace some particulars of the 
 curious journey which I had been making with Dr. 
 Johnson. When we rose from the table, the duke 
 said to me : ' I hope you and Dr. Johnson will dine 
 with us to-morrow.' I thanked his grace ; but told 
 him my friend was in a great hurry to get back to 
 London. The duke, with a kind complaisancy, said, 
 ' He will stay one day ; and I will take care he shall
 
 THE BEAUTIFUL GUXXIXGS. 301 
 
 see this place to advantage.' I said I should be sure 
 to let him know his grace's invitation. As I was 
 going away, the duke said : ' Mr. Boswell, won't you 
 have some tea ? ' I thought it best to get over the 
 meeting with the duchess this night ; so respectfully 
 agreed. I was conducted to the drawing-room by the 
 duke, who announced my name ; but the duchess, 
 who was sitting with her daughter, Lady Betty 
 Hamilton, and some other ladies, took not the least 
 notice of me. I should have been mortified at being 
 thus coldly received by a lady of whom I, with the 
 rest of the world, have always entertained a very high 
 admiration, had I not been consoled by the obliging- 
 attention of the duke. 
 
 "When I returned to the inn, I informed Dr. 
 Johnson of the Duke of Argyll's invitation, with 
 which he was much pleased, and readily accepted 
 of it. 
 
 " Oct. 25. My acquaintance, the Kev. Mr. John 
 M'Aulay, one of the ministers of Inverary, and 
 brother to our good friend at Calder, came to us this 
 morning, and accompanied us to the castle, where I 
 presented Dr. Johnson to the Duke of Argyll. We 
 were shown through the house ; and I never shall 
 forget the impression made upon my fancy by some 
 of the ladies'-maids tripping about in neat morning- 
 dresses. 
 
 " When we came in before dinner, we found the
 
 302 KINGS AXD QUEENS OF AX HOUR. 
 
 duke and some gentlemen in the hall. The duke 
 placed Dr. Johnson next himself at table. I was 
 in fine spirits ; and though sensible that I had 
 the misfortune of not being in favour with the 
 duchess, I was not in the least disconcerted, and 
 offered her grace some of the dish that was before me. 
 It must be owned that I was in the right to be quite 
 unconcerned, if I could. I was the Duke of Argyll's 
 guest ; and I had no reason to suppose that he 
 adopted the prejudices and resentments of the 
 Duchess of Hamilton. 
 
 "I knew it was the rule of modern high life not to 
 drink to anybody ; but that I might have the satis- 
 faction for once to look the duchess in the face, with 
 a glass in my hand, I with a respectful air addressed 
 her : ' My lady duchess, I have the honour to drink 
 your grace's good health.' I repeated the words 
 audibly, and with a steady countenance. This was, 
 perhaps, rather too much ; but some allowance must 
 be made for human feelings. The duchess was very 
 attentive to Dr. Johnson. ' I fancy you will be a 
 Methodist. 1 This was the only sentence her grace 
 deigned to utter to me ; and I take it for granted, she 
 thought it a good hit on my credulity in the Douglas 
 cause. 
 
 "Dr. Johnson talked a great deal, and was so 
 entertaining, that Lady Betty Hamilton, after dinner, 
 went and placed her chair close to his, leaned upon
 
 THE BEAUTIFUL GUNXIXGS. 303 
 
 the back of it, and listened eagerly. It would have 
 made a fine picture to have drawn the sage and her 
 at this time in their several attitudes. He did not 
 know, all the while, how much he was honoured. I 
 told him afterwards. I never saw him so gentle and 
 complaisant as this day. 
 
 "We went to tea. The duke and I walked up 
 and down the drawing-room, conversing. The duchess 
 still continued to show the same marked coldness for 
 me ; for which, though I suffered from it, I made 
 every allowance, considering the very warm part that 
 I had taken for Douglas, in the cause in which she 
 thought her son deeply interested. Had not her 
 grace discovered some displeasure towards me, I 
 should have suspected her of insensibility or dis- 
 simulation. 
 
 "Her grace made Dr. Johnson come and sit by 
 her, and asked him why he made his journey so late 
 in the year. ' Why, madam/ said he, ' you know 
 Mr. Boswell must attend the Court of Session, and it 
 does not rise till the twelfth of August.' She 
 said, with some sharpness, 'I know nothing of Mr. 
 Boswell.' Poor Lady Lucy Douglas, to whom I 
 mentioned this, observed : ' She knew too much of 
 Mr. Boswell.' I shall make no remark on her grace's 
 speech. I indeed felt it as rather too severe ; but 
 when I recollected that my punishment was inflicted 
 by so dignified a beauty, I had that kind of consola-
 
 304 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 tion which a man would feel who is strangled by a 
 silken cord. Dr. Johnson was all attention to her 
 grace. He used afterwards a droll expression, upon 
 her enjoying the three titles of Hamilton, Brandon, 
 and Argyll. Borrowing an image from the Turkish 
 empire, he called her a Duchess with three tails" 
 
 It is noteworthy that a descendant of this remark- 
 able woman was herself one of the famous beauties of 
 her day ; and many still recall the charms and bril- 
 liant talents of Lady Charlotte Campbell, who lived 
 till the year 1861.
 
 THE 
 
 ROMANTIC STORY OF SIR PHILIP FRANCIS. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 THE 
 
 ROMANTIC STORY OF SIR PHILIP FRANCIS. 
 
 A CHARACTER or career in many points suggestive 
 of Hugh Elliot was that of Philip Francis, the 
 accepted author of "Junius." Both had the same 
 impetuosity of temper, the same dash, and a good 
 deal of the same brilliancy. But here the likeness 
 ends. One was Scotch, the other Irish. Elliot knew 
 how to manage men ; Francis was impracticable and 
 unsuccessful in his treatment of critical questions. On 
 the other hand, Francis was a trenchant and brilliant 
 writer, whose great " Letters " were efficient, to 
 an extraordinary degree, in producing the effect 
 demanded. The name of Elliot is but little known 
 to "the general," while that of Francis will long 
 be celebrated. 
 
 Francis was born in 1740, and even as a boy 
 he showed a good deal of the spirit which later dis- 
 
 x 2
 
 308 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 tinguished him. Taken one night by his father to 
 J)rury Lane Theatre, they met the courtly Lord 
 Chesterfield. "The noble paragon of courtesy and 
 fine words, indulging in polite conversation with the 
 Doctor, as usual paused for some felicitous word. 
 In one of his lordship's stops young Philip promptly 
 supplied the properly-considered word the noble 
 lord adopting it with the preface of a bow and 
 the remark, 'As the young gentleman has most 
 correctly said.' ' 
 
 When a young man in London he figured in the 
 theatrical riots which were set on foot to the an- 
 noyance of Garrick, and prompted some of Churchill's 
 bitterest verses. It is curious that, like Elliot, he 
 had a taste for amateur military work ; and when 
 sent, in a civil capacity, on the expedition to Cher- 
 bourg, was reprimanded for going into the trenches 
 to see some of the fighting. He engaged in several 
 other missions, as secretary, etc. In 1762 he made 
 an early and improvident marriage of course, in 
 defiance of the wishes of his father and his relatives. 
 He soon obtained a clerkship in the War Office, and 
 began writing letters to the papers, in the style of 
 the more famous "Junius" attacks. These were 
 under various signatures, and contrast with his letters 
 to his wife, which have been preserved, and which 
 show that this fierce assailant was of an affectionate 
 and even uxorious nature. Thus :
 
 THE ROMANTIC STORY OF SIR PHILIP FRANCIS. 309 
 
 " This post is very convenient, for though we are 
 above seventy miles off, I hear this morning how you 
 did yesterday. This is so great a pleasure to me 
 that I wait with impatience for the hour of the post ; 
 and woe be to you if you disappoint me ! I am per- 
 fectly satisfied that you will not dance with any but 
 a proper person ; but that was not what I meant. 
 I am apt to suspect that the general run of the 
 company is not of the best ; therefore, would wish you 
 not to make yourself too cheap among them. Whom 
 did you dance with ? The time till my dearest Betsy 
 returns seems full as tedious to me as it can do to 
 you. . . . My sweetest Betsy, I hope you think of 
 me, and that you really wish to be with me again ; 
 if you do not, you are ungrateful to the last degree. 
 Haven't you fixed the day yet for your return ? As 
 you are such a constant bather, I should imagine your 
 stay might be shortened. But all this I leave to 
 yourself. As I write constantly twice a week, you 
 ought to be contented, though I don't complain of 
 your wishing to hear oftener from me. I wish Sally 
 would do me the favour to say a few words ; can't 
 you persuade her to write a line or two to me ? 
 Yours, my dearest Betsy, for ever, P. F." 
 
 In 1769 appeared the first Junius letter in the 
 Public Advertiser; and the best evidence of their being; 
 
 o 
 
 his work, apart from innumerable other cogent reasons,
 
 310 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 is that their interruption coincided with his own move- 
 ments, absences from town, illnesses, etc. And in 
 1772, when he was absent from England, the letters 
 ceased to appear. At last, in 1774, he was appointed 
 to the Indian Council at Bengal. 
 
 When he reached his new sphere of action, he 
 found himself in perpetual conflict with Hastings, 
 and engaged in embittered disputes with members 
 of the council, which was split into factions. This 
 animosity raged for some time until, in 1777, 
 Hastings sent home his resignation, and was pre- 
 sumed to have given up the struggle. When the 
 letter of the directors arrived accepting it, with the 
 appointment of a successor, a series of extraordinary 
 and dramatic scenes followed. 
 
 Hastings repudiated the authority of his agent, 
 and refused to acknowledge the acceptance of a resig- 
 nation which he denied himself to have tendered. 
 Clavering endeavoured to seize on the supreme power 
 by violence. " The General," says Macaulay, " sent 
 for the keys of the fort and of the treasury ; took 
 possession of the records,, and held a council, at 
 which Francis attended. Hastings took the chair in 
 another apartment, and Bar well sate with him. . . . 
 It seemed that there remained no way of settling 
 the dispute except by an appeal to arms ; and from 
 such an appeal, Hastings, confident of his influence 
 over his countrymen in India, was not inclined to
 
 THE ROMANTIC STORY OF SIR PHILIP FRANCIS. 311 
 
 shrink. He directed the officers of the garrison of 
 Fort William, and of all the neighbouring stations, 
 to obey no orders but his. At the same time, with 
 admirable judgment, he offered to submit the case 
 to the supreme court, and to abide by its decision. 
 . . . Clavering and Francis, after some delay, un- 
 willingly consented to abide the award of the court. 
 The court pronounced that the resignation was in- 
 valid, and that therefore Hastings was still Governor- 
 General under the Regulation Act ; and the defeated 
 members of the council, finding the sense of the whole 
 settlement against them, reluctantly acquiesced in 
 this decision." 
 
 At last, in 1780, matters came to a crisis. After 
 many violent scenes at the council board, the Governor 
 declaring that " he would not bear it," etc., a dispute 
 arose between them on a point of good faith, Hastings 
 charging Francis with having made an honourable 
 agreement and departing from it. 
 
 " The issue," he wrote, " to which Mr. Hastings 
 has agreed to bring the question between us, prevents 
 me from answering the paper I received from him 
 on Monday night in the manner in which I otherwise 
 should have answered it. Nor indeed have I sufficient 
 time to spare from other duties, at this juncture in- 
 dispensable. If I should fall, I hope the following 
 declaration made now, with the most solemn appeal 
 to God Almighty for the truth of it, will not only
 
 312 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 satisfy my friends, but clear my character and honour 
 in the opinion of the world. 
 
 " I declare, then, I never was a party to the paper 
 quoted by Mr. Hastings, nor did I ever, directly or 
 indirectly, give my assent to it." 
 
 Hastings enforced his view in an offensive minute. 
 When they met at the board on August 1 5th, Francis 
 took him into another room and thus addressed him : 
 
 " * Mr. Hastings, I am preparing a formal answer 
 to the paper you sent to me last night. As soon as 
 it can be finished, I shall lay it before you. But you 
 must be sensible, sir, that no answer I can give to 
 the matter of that paper can be adequate to the dis- 
 honour done me by the terms you have made use 
 of. You have left me no alternative but to demand 
 personal satisfaction of you for the affronts you have 
 offered me.' 
 
 " As soon as I had read the preceding words to 
 Mr. Hastings, he said he expected the demand and 
 was ready to answer it. We then agreed to meet 
 in the morning." 
 
 "On the 17tb," says Francis "we arrived at the 
 ground near Belvedere, near an hour before Mr. H., 
 who comes about six, with Colonel Pearse. Watson 
 v jnarks out a distance, about fourteen common paces, 
 the same, he said, at which Mr. Fox and Mr. Adam 
 stood. My pistol missing fire, I changed it. We 
 then fired together, and I was wounded and fell. I
 
 THE ROMANTIC STORY OF SIR PHILIP FKAXCIS. 313 
 
 thought my backbone was broken, and of course that 
 I could not survive it. After the first confusion had 
 subsided, and after I had suffered great inconvenience 
 from being carried to a wrong place, I was at last 
 conveyed to Major Foley's house on a bed. The 
 surgeon arrived in about an hour-and-a-half from the 
 time I was wounded, and cut out the ball, and bled 
 me twice in the course of the day. 
 
 " Mr. Hastings sends to know when he may visit 
 me. 
 
 " 18th. In these two days the pain I suffered 
 was very considerable. 
 
 " 19th. Desire Colonel Watson to tell Mr. Hastings 
 as civilly as possible that I am forced to decline his 
 visit." 
 
 The triumphant Hastings was continued in his 
 office, and Francis had soon to return to England. 
 Before he departed, however, he had part in a very 
 curious sort of romance, which it will be found inte- 
 resting to recount. 
 
 Warren Hastings was a rather brilliant ad- 
 venturer. The glittering scene in which he figured, 
 the barbaric oppression of which he was accused, his 
 wonderful administration, the celebrated trial which 
 was itself a drama, the glittering pages of Macaulay, 
 in which his story is set out, all combine to lend 
 fascination to the whole. To make the whole a 
 suitable picture of an adventurer's career, there is
 
 314 KIXGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 the contrast between the brilliant sovereignty, the 
 enormous wealth, the diamonds, and the close of his 
 career in fallen state, disgrace, and comparative 
 want. 
 
 There was living in England, shortly after 
 George III. came to the throne, a German portrait- 
 painter and his wife, of the name of Imhoff, who were 
 friends of the well-known Keeper of the Wardrobe 
 to the Queen, Miss Burney's Mrs. Schwellenberg. 
 Through this channel the Queen was induced to 
 patronise them, and, through the same agency, leave 
 was obtained from the East India directors for their 
 going out to Madras. For such was the despotic rule 
 of these magnates, that no one could establish them- 
 selves in the cities or territory without their sanction. 
 This was in 1768. 
 
 It happened that there was embarking in the same 
 Indiaman that took out the Imhoffs, Mr. Hastings, 
 who was just appointed to the council at Fort 
 St. George. The Duke of Grafton was the name of 
 the vessel. Mrs. Imhoff has always been described 
 as singularly interesting and of fascinating manners. 
 She was a native of Archangel. At that time Hastings 
 had never seen or heard of her ; but, shortly after 
 sailing from England, accident, which had brought 
 them into the same ship, also made them personally 
 known to each other. Wraxall describes what oc- 
 curred on the voyage, which, as Macaulay says,
 
 THE ROMAXTIC STORY OF SIR PHILIP FRAXCIS. 315 
 
 might have furnished romance for a good three- 
 volume novel. 
 
 " Hastings having engaged the room denominated 
 the round-house for his own exclusive accommodation, 
 Mrs. Imhoff, believing him to be on the quarter-deck, 
 without previously ascertaining the fact, mounted by 
 the stairs of the quarter-gallery to that apartment. 
 Their surprise at meeting was mutual; and she made, 
 from the first instant of his seeing her, a deep impres- 
 sion on the future Governor-General. In the course of 
 their voyage, Hastings formed a very strong attach- 
 ment to her, and, his passion acquiring strength by 
 time, he continued to visit her with great assiduity 
 while she and her husband resided at Madras ; but, 
 always with such precautions and under such restric- 
 tions as not to compromise her. About the time 
 when Hastings was appointed to the government of 
 Bengal, in January, 1772, a termination of her 
 marriage with Imhoff took place ; which union, 
 as having been originally celebrated in Germany, 
 was asserted to be capable of dissolution by mutual 
 consent. This amicable divorce was not, however, 
 effected without the aid of money, Hastings having, 
 in fact, paid to Imhoff a sum considerably exceed- 
 ing 10,000?. ; with which acquisition the fortunate 
 painter quitted India, and, returning to his native 
 country, there bought an estate. Mrs. Imhoff fol- 
 lowed her lover to Calcutta, and, as soon as her former
 
 316 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AX HOUR. 
 
 husband had transmitted authentic intelligence that 
 the divorce was obtained, the new Governor-General 
 of India legalised his connection by the solemnities 
 of wedlock. 
 
 This extraordinary transaction has been described 
 by one of Hastings's biographers as "wise and 
 judicious ; " but it was, in truth, a scandal. 
 
 On July 19th, 1777, Francis wrote to one of his 
 friends : 
 
 " There is no answering for the resolutions of such 
 a timid, desperate, distracted being as Hastings. To 
 complete the character, as it will probably conclude 
 the history of this extraordinary man, I must inform 
 you that he is to be married shortly to the supposed 
 wife of a German painter, with whom he has lived 
 for several years. The lady is turned of forty, has 
 children grown up by her pretended husband, from 
 whom she has obtained a divorce under the hand 
 of some German prince. I have always been on very 
 good terms with the lady, and do not despair of 
 being invited to the wedding. She is an agreeable 
 woman, and has been very pretty. My Lord Chief 
 Justice Impey, the most upright of all possible 
 lawyers, is to act the part of a father to this second 
 Helen, though his wife has not spoken to her this 
 twelvemonth." 
 
 But in the year following, the person who penned 
 these lines was himself to be the hero of an extra-
 
 THE EOMAXTIC STORY OF SIR PHILIP FRAXCIS. 317 
 
 ordinary adventure. In 1778, a Swiss gentleman, 
 M. George F. Grand, came, with his wife, to 
 Chandernagore (where he seems to have been esta- 
 blished in business) and in Calcutta. His wife, only 
 sixteen, was the daughter of a M. Worlee, at the 
 French settlement of Pondicherry, where she was 
 born. 
 
 " She was," says a writer in the Calcutta 
 Review, "very young and very charming. Her 
 picture, painted by Zoffany, now (1844) adorns the 
 w T alls of Mr. Marshman's residence at Serampore. 
 There is more of feminine softness than of strength 
 of character in her fair countenance ; the sensual 
 prevails everywhere over the intellectual." 
 
 With the Swiss gentleman's lady, Francis fell 
 desperately in love, and the husband told the public, 
 in print, what followed : 
 
 "On December 8th, 1778, I went out of my 
 home the happiest, as I thought myself, of men, 
 and between eleven and twelve o'clock returned the 
 same night to it as miserable as any being could well 
 feel. Scarcely had I sat down to supper at my 
 benefactor Mr. Harwell's society, who required of his 
 friends to join him every fortnight at this convivial 
 meeting, when a servant came and whispered to me 
 that Mr. Francis was caught in my house and secured 
 by my jemmadar. I rose up from table, ran to the 
 terrace, and sent for a friend out, whom I requested
 
 318 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 to accompany me. On my way I called on my friend 
 Mr. Palmer, and requested the use of his sword, and 
 to attend me as a friend. We repaired to the spot. 
 The porter, hearing my voice, opened the gate ; and 
 in my lower apartments my friend and I beheld with 
 astonishment the present Sir George Shee bound to 
 a chair, and endeavouring to obtain from my servants 
 his release, with Mr. Shore, now Lord Teignmouth, 
 and the late Mr. Archdekin, companions to him, 
 joining in the same prayer and entreaty. My jem- 
 madar, however, told a plain tale. It was that he 
 had secured Mr. Francis, until Mr. Shee, assisted 
 by the other gentlemen, upon a loud whistle sounded 
 by Mr. Francis, had scaled the walls of my com- 
 pound, rushed furiously on him, and in the scuffle 
 occasioned Mr. Francis to escape. I ordered their 
 release, and leaving my house to the care of my 
 faithful jemmadar and servants, I retired to Major 
 Palmer's. 
 
 " I anxiously awaited the morning, to require 
 from the undoer of my happiness the satisfaction 
 which the laws of honour prescribe. I wrote to 
 Mr. Francis that, void of every spark of principle 
 and honour as I deemed him, still I trusted he would 
 not deny me the meeting to which I summoned him. 
 His reply was laconic and easy : ' That, conscious 
 of having done me no injury, and that I laboured 
 under a complete mistake, he begged leave to decline
 
 THE EOMAXTIC STOKY OF SIR PHILIP FRAXCIS. 319 
 
 the proposed invitation.' I now returned home, occu- 
 pied the lower apartments of my house, whilst 
 Mrs. Grand remained in the upper, and on the 
 Sunday following everything was arranged for Mrs. 
 Grand's returning to live under her relatives' mansion 
 iind protection. An interview was entreated, and 
 could not be denied. It lasted three hours, inter- 
 rupted with the most poignant lamentations. I 
 pitied her from my heart. I sincerely forgave her, 
 iind with a sorrow approaching to distraction, we 
 parted. 
 
 " A course of law alone remained open. This I 
 had recourse to not without experiencing great 
 difficulty, most of the complaisant advocates of the 
 supreme court having either been retained by him, 
 or intimidated from acting. At length I succeeded 
 with one who brought the process to a successful 
 issue. By the testimony of Mr. Shee, Mr. Archdekin, 
 and others, the trespass was fully proved, and the 
 trespasser was condemned by the bench of judges 
 in damages of fifty thousand sicca rupees, with costs 
 of suit." 
 
 Francis's own account of the adventure as related 
 to his wife, is like a scene in one of the old comedies, 
 say, " The Suspicious Husband :" 
 
 "Mrs. Grand was at that time the most beau- 
 tiful woman in Calcutta. She was tall, most ele- 
 gantly formed, the stature of a nymph, a complexion
 
 320 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR 
 
 of unequalled delicacy, and auburn hair of the most 
 luxuriant profusion ; fine blue eyes, with black eye- 
 lashes and brows, gave her countenance a most 
 piquant singularity. This beautiful creature had the 
 misfortune to be married to a dirty, sordid old 
 Frenchman, who treated her very ill, and having 
 lost a good deal of money at play which was then 
 carried to a great extent at Calcutta looked out 
 for the best opportunity of repairing it, and was 
 not very particular about the means. Mr. F. soon 
 distinguished this fair lady, and, though not dis- 
 pleased to be admired, threw him into despair. His 
 contempt for the husband and regret for the ill- 
 fated beauty made such an addition to his passion 
 that he fell into a fever which lasted him six 
 months. Her pity so far worked upon her for her 
 to consent to his coming one night when her 
 husband was absent to her house, accompanied by 
 a friend. He .went to the house," the narrative 
 proceeds, " accompanied by his friend Ducarel, who 
 waited outside, when he was surrounded by a set 
 of ruffians with whom her husband, who had been 
 only absent as a plot to draw Mr. Francis into the 
 house, had seen him go in, having previously laid 
 the plot. Had Mr. F. had his sword on, he said, 
 some of them would have paid dearly for their 
 attack ; but they having taken care to possess them- 
 selves of it, and being armed, forced him into another
 
 THE ROMANTIC STORY OF SIR PHILIP FRANCIS. 321 
 
 apartment, where they held him down in a chair 
 whilst Mr. G., with all the airs of injured honour, 
 called for a pistol to take away the life of the man 
 who had dared to attack it. Nevertheless, the lady 
 called out of the window to Mr. Ducarel, ' For God's 
 sake come ; they are murdering him.' Mr. Ducarel, 
 without waiting for another word, very resolutely 
 rushed into the house among the gang, who, seeing 
 another gentleman sword in hand, and not knowing 
 whether there might not be more, relaxed their hold 
 and began to prepare for their defence. Upon seeing 
 Ducarel, his friend threw off those about him, who 
 were glad to take refuge in flight ; and the two 
 adventurers made an orderly retreat." 
 
 Now to follow the extraordinary future career of 
 the heroines ; and it is remarkable that these two 
 ladies, obscure personages in Calcutta society, should 
 have been both destined, through themselves or their 
 husbands, to have a European celebrity. 
 
 We next hear of the beautiful Madame Grand 
 at Paris in 1796, when we find Talleyrand writing 
 to Barras to release her from arrest, she being 
 charged with conspiring for the emigrants. 
 
 " C'est la personne," he wrote, " d'Europe la plus 
 eloignee et la plus incapable de se meler d'aucune 
 affaire. C'est une Indienne bien belle, bien pares- 
 seuse, la plus desoccupee de toutes les femmes que 
 j'aie jamais rencontre'es. Je vous demande interet 
 
 VOL. I. Y
 
 322 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 pour elle. Je 1'aime : et je vous atteste a vous, 
 d'homme a homme, que de sa vie elle ne s'est mel^e 
 et n'est en tat de se meler d'aucune affaire. C'est 
 une veritable Indienne ; et vous savez a quel degr6 
 cette espece de femmes est loin de toute intrigue." 
 
 When the Pope had dispensed the ex-Bishop of 
 Autun from excommunication and other penalties, 
 the latter chose to interpret this step as a leave to 
 marry, and he accordingly espoused Madame Grand. 
 This step was formally condemned by the Vatican, 
 while Bonaparte declined to receive her at court, 
 considering her as virtually unmarried. It turned 
 out that she was utterly unsuited as an intellectual 
 companion, being what is called "stupid;" and she 
 was destined to receive celebrity from the well-known 
 capital anecdote, which her husband repeated of her : 
 her complimenting Demon on his shipwreck as Eobin- 
 son Crusoe, and her inquiries after " ce clier Vendredi." 
 
 On the eve of the marriage, to make the adven- 
 turous character of her life continuous, who should 
 appear in Paris but Mr. Francis, to whom, however, 
 she made an appeal for discretion and silence as to 
 the old Calcutta days ! Sir Elijah Impey, another 
 of her Calcutta admirers, was also, strange to say, 
 in Paris, and renewed his acquaintance ; and through 
 the lady he became sufficiently intimate with her 
 husband to be one of the Englishmen most frequently 
 invited to his table. At one of these assemblies,
 
 THE ROMANTIC STOKY OF SIR PHILIP FRANCIS. 323 
 
 this remarkable rencontre took place, of persons not 
 likely ever to have met beneath the same roof 
 under any circumstances less fortuitous. These 
 persons were : Mr. and Mrs. Fox, Sir Elijah and 
 Lady Impey, M. and Madame de Talleyrand, Sir 
 Philip Francis, and M. le Grand. 
 
 Eeturning now to Mrs. Hastings, we find that she 
 proved herself a valuable assistant and companion to 
 the Governor ; and when his enemies began to threaten 
 the attacks that were afterwards formally made, he de- 
 spatched her, in 1783, to London to prepare the way 
 for his own return. Her appearance was one of the 
 sensations of the court, from the barbaric splendours 
 she displayed proceedings more likely to excite the 
 prejudice against him than to allay it. She was sup- 
 ported by the favour of the royal family. 
 
 "She was not deficient in those accomplishments 
 which adorn society ; for, though she had already 
 passed the limits of youth, her person still preserved 
 many attractions. Her conversation was interesting, 
 and her deportment unexceptionable in private life. 
 She was besides a stranger to England, by birth, by a 
 long residence in Asia, and by her unacquaintance 
 with our modes of life and our manners. Even her 
 figure furnished matter for malevolent criticism ; as, 
 at a time when every fashionable female's head-dress 
 was elevated twelve or eighteen inches high, and 
 formed a barbarous assemblage of powder, pins, and 
 
 T 2
 
 324 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 other fantastic ornaments piled on each other, she had 
 the courage to wear her hair without powder. 
 
 " When she was presented at the drawing-room in 
 this astounding guise, the wits of the noblesse made 
 merry over her appearance. Major Scott, another 
 avant-courier, had been diligently preparing the 
 public mind for the coming of his principal. Both 
 were thus sung in these lively but disrespectful lines : 
 
 Now shall the levee's ease thy soul unbend, 
 
 Fatigu'd with royalty's severer care ! 
 Oh ! happy few ! whom brighter stars befriend, 
 Who catch the chat the witty whisper share ! 
 Methinks I hear 
 In accents clear, 
 
 Great Brunswick's voice still vibrate on my ear 
 " What I what % what ? 
 Scott ! Scott ! Scott ! 
 Hot ! hot ! hot ! 
 What ? what ? what 1 " 
 Oh ! fancy quick ! oh ! judgment true ! 
 
 Oh ! sacred oracle of regal taste ! 
 So hasty, and so generous too ! 
 Not one of all thy questions will an answer wait ! 
 
 Vain, vain, oh Muse, thy feeble art, 
 Monarch of mighty Albion check thy talk ? 
 Behold the squad approach, led on by Palk ! 
 Smith, Barwell, Call, Vansittart, form the band 
 Lord of Britannia ! let them kiss thy hand ! 
 For sniff ! rich odours scent the sphere ! 
 'Tis Mrs. Hastings' self brings up the rear ! 
 Gods ! how her diamonds flock 
 On each unpowdered lock ! 
 On every membrane see a topaz clings ! 
 Behold ! her joints are fewer than her rings !
 
 THE ROMANTIC STORY OF SIE PHILIP FKAXCIS. 325 
 
 Illustrious dame ! on either ear, 
 The Munny Begums' spoils appear ! 
 
 Oh ! Pitt with awe behold that precious throat, 
 
 Whose necklace teems with many a future vote ! 
 
 Pregnant with Burgage gems each hand she rears ; 
 
 And lo ! depending questions gleam upon her ears ! 
 
 Take her, great George, and shake her by the hand, 
 
 'Twill loose her jewels, and enrich thy land. 
 
 But oh ! reserve one ring for an old stager ; 
 
 The ring of future marriage for her Major. 
 
 " The present of the great diamond made a great 
 noise at the time. It was thought improper that 
 his Majesty should have accepted from a private per- 
 son what, it was imputed, must have been gained 
 by plunder." 
 
 Never was there such a fall. The magnate, at 
 whose word and nod the Easterns had trembled, was 
 brought to trial, and had to bend his knee submis- 
 sively as he entered Westminster Hall. He left it an 
 acquitted but ruined man, and dragged out the rest of 
 his life in obscurity, subsisting on a pension of 4000?. 
 a year, which was no doubt heavily mortgaged. A 
 modest one-horse chaise was all he could afford to 
 take him to church. 
 
 Miss Burney thus described him on his trial : 
 " Poor Hastings sitting by and looking so meek, to 
 hear himself called villain and cut-throat, etc ! The 
 recapitulation of the dreadful cruelties in India was 
 worked up to the highest pitch of eloquence and 
 passion, so that the orator was seized with a spasm
 
 326 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 which made him incapable of speaking another word. 
 I think I never felt such indignation as when Burke, 
 with Sheridan standing on one side, and Fox on the 
 other, said : * Vice incapacitates a man from all public 
 duty ; it withers the powers of his understanding, and 
 makes his mind paralytic.' '' 
 
 Madame Talleyrand died on December llth, 1835, 
 aged seventy-four. She had been separated from her 
 husband for thirty years, though he said he had 
 chosen her, on account of her very stupidity, "pour 
 reposer I' esprit." A strange scene occurred at her 
 deathbed : 
 
 " After the last religious ceremonies had been per- 
 formed, an assemblage of friends surrounded the bed 
 of the dying, who in a faint voice asked for a par- 
 ticular casket, which she delivered with much earnest- 
 ness to the Archbishop of Paris, and requested that 
 after her death he would make it over to Madame 
 
 d'E , as her valid gift and last testimonial of her 
 
 affection. At the same time she called upon all 
 present to be witnesses of this bequest. No sooner 
 had the archbishop received in his hands this deposit 
 
 than the homme d'affaires of Prince T , who had 
 
 privately mixed with the group, stepped forward, and 
 formally opposed the delivery of the casket, which he 
 claimed on behalf of his constituent." 
 
 It was noted as curious that this man of business's
 
 THE ROMANTIC STOEY OF SIR PHILIP FRANCIS. 327 
 
 name was Demon. It would be curious to imagine 
 an attorney in England with the name of Devil ! 
 The Prince gave directions that the inscription on her 
 tombstone should indicate the fact of the marriage as 
 slightly as possible. After stating her birth, etc., at 
 
 Martinique, she is described as "Veuve de M. G , 
 
 apres civilement mariee d M. de T ." Here his 
 
 dominant foible comes out ; he hopes that by treating 
 the ceremony as a civil contract, at that period of the 
 Revolution, he may now palliate that stigma in the 
 eyes of the clergy, which is irreparably attached to 
 the position of a pretre marie. 
 
 The dispute as to the casket was at last compro- 
 mised by a payment of 8000Z. 
 
 Francis, who had entered Parliament on his return 
 to England, took part in the impeachment of his old 
 enemy. During the course of the investigation his 
 old quarrelsomeness broke out, and he related to his 
 second wife the wife of his old age some amusing 
 particulars : 
 
 " During Hastings' trial there was a Nottingham- 
 shire baronet, Sir Richard Button, a warm, hearty 
 man, who hated liberal politics from his heart, and 
 was an intimate personal friend of both Hastings and 
 Impey. This gentleman, in the warmth of his defence 
 of the accused, not only repeated Chancellor Thurlow's 
 wish that the vessel containing Erancis, Monson, and 
 Clavering had been lost at sea, but added some
 
 328 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 personal reflections on Francis. He had just inquired 
 of his neighbour the name of his accuser, who was a 
 stranger to him, and was deliberating in what way to 
 notice the attack, when a strange incident happened 
 in the House. A member had entered the House in 
 that strange state of intoxication which some men are 
 liable to, when wine causes a kind of insanity rather 
 than common sottishness, like the famous Jack Fuller 
 twenty years after. This hero directed all his spleen 
 against the Speaker ; he marched up to him while the 
 House was engaged in watching the rising storm 
 which seemed coming on between Sutton and Francis, 
 and, without giving the right honourable gentleman 
 any notice, tried to eject him from his chair in the 
 most summary way, vi et armis. The Speaker resisted 
 like Falstaff, on compulsion ; but the Bacchanal pulled 
 so hard that all the members near flew to the rescue, 
 thinking assassination or some personal injury was 
 intended. By this time all the members were on 
 their legs, and the house in an uproar ; all order was 
 at an end ; queries from one part, and peals of laughter 
 from another, were all that was heard ; all tried to 
 get near the chair, where the crowd was the most 
 dense, and where the new Speaker was defending 
 himself with much gravity and logic. Sir Richard's 
 speech had come to an abrupt conclusion, and Mr. 
 Francis, finding there was no chance of any public 
 satisfaction at that time, took the opportunity of all
 
 THE RO^IAXTIC STORY OF SIR PHILIP FRANCIS. 329 
 
 having quitted their seats to step across the house to 
 the Treasury benches, where Sir Richard was standing, 
 and asked him upon what footing he was to consider 
 his personal attack upon himself ? Sir Richard, who 
 was a quiet and respectable man in private life, out of 
 politics, though somewhat stern and fierce-looking 
 when disturbed, answered him that he had not the 
 least intention or thoughts of offending him ; that it 
 was merely on public grounds he spoke, and was 
 sorry if he had offended him ; and Sir Philip, though 
 not believing him, took the apology, merely adding, 
 ' Then I hope, sir, I shall not have to complain of you 
 in future ? ' ' Certainly not, sir/ said the other ; and 
 so they parted. Francis went down the next day to 
 East Sheen, and on Sunday, while happy in the 
 company of his then young and promising family, 
 particularly Elizabeth and Harriet, who were just 
 rising into womanhood, and equally distinguished for 
 beauty of person and mental endowments, a friend 
 came in all haste from town, to give him the pleasant 
 intelligence that Sir R.'s speech was in all the papers. 
 Francis, after a few moment's consideration, took his 
 line of conduct, and, begging his friend to remain 
 with his family to guard them from any alarm, he 
 returned alone to town. He proceeded to the club- 
 houses, and at Brookes's the only person he met was 
 Captain Macnamara of the Navy, afterwards so well 
 known by the famous duel with Colonel Montgomery
 
 330 KIXGS AXD QUEENS OF AX HOUR. 
 
 about their dogs, while quarrelling in the Park. Mr. 
 Francis was at the time now in question very slightly 
 acquainted with Macnamara ; but, finding himself 
 ttte-d-tdte with him, he mentioned his dilemma, when 
 the naval hero immediately offered his services, for, 
 he observed, not an hour should be lost in vindicating 
 honour. Francis was at least sure that his new friend 
 would not compromise him, to avoid coming to ex- 
 tremities ; he therefore sat down and wrote the words 
 that he wished to appear the next day in the papers 
 which had reported Sutton's speech. This paragraph, 
 which disavowed the offensive expressions, and all 
 purpose of casting the slightest imputation on Mr. 
 Francis, he wished to have with Sir Richard's signa- 
 ture, and sent it to him by Captain Macnamara for 
 that purpose, at the same time informing him that it 
 would appear in the papers that had contained the 
 report complained of. This at first appeared rather 
 unpalatable to the baronet, but Captain Macnamara 
 was a very firm and gentlemanly man, and at length 
 succeeded in convincing him that he had been 
 deceived in the estimation he had formed of Mr. 
 Francis's character, and that he really owed him 
 reparation ; on which he signed the paragraph which 
 appeared in the newspapers ; and Mr. Francis felt 
 very well satisfied with the conduct of his ambassador, 
 who had brought the affair to an amicable termination 
 and yet enabled him to vindicate his honour. But
 
 THE ROMANTIC STOKY OF SIR PHILIP FRANCIS. 331 
 
 the consequence of this little negotiation was, that not 
 long after, Mr. Francis was drawn into an actual duel, 
 though not as a principal. Harvey Aston had some 
 demele with Captain Macnamara, and being a cele- 
 brated duellist, as was well known, called him out ; 
 the latter was not a man to decline such an invitation. 
 Captain Macnamara, on receiving the challenge, re- 
 membering the service he had lately rendered Mr. 
 Francis, immediately applied to him. On Sunday, 
 one fine summer morning, the hostile parties met in a 
 field near a village at some distance from town. They 
 took possession, therefore, of the corner of a field pro- 
 tected by high quick hedges. The day was so far 
 advanced that the bells from the village church near 
 began chiming for the service of the morning, which 
 perhaps hurried the gentlemen; for though both were 
 dead shots, a brace of pistols was discharged on each 
 side without effect. Both being still unsatisfied, they 
 called to their seconds to reload, which they were 
 unwillingly going to do, when a voice from behind the 
 hedge called out, " Stop, gentlemen, I cannot allow 
 this business to proceed any further." On looking to 
 see from whom the voice proceeded, to their great 
 surprise the clergyman of the parish, in his canonicals, 
 attended by his congregation, appeared through every 
 aperture in the hedge, which was in fact lined with 
 faces, which had been stationary there during the 
 whole proceeding, to see the upshot and probable
 
 332 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 downfall of at least one of the party. In vain the 
 bells had been impatiently ringing for the last half 
 hour ; not one would move from the interesting spot, 
 or spoil the sport. 
 
 f The vicar, after issuing his injunction to stay fur- 
 ther proceedings, made his way into the field of battle, 
 and very politely accosting the party, said : ' Gentle- 
 men, I saw from the first what your intentions were, 
 and, making allowances for the feelings of men of 
 honour, I would not deprive you of the satisfaction 
 you required ; but now you have done enough. I 
 know the laws of honour as well as any of you, and 
 request you will give me your words that this affair 
 shall end here.' The gentlemen, who could scarcely 
 keep their countenances at meeting with so chivalric 
 a parson, gave him the assurance he required, and 
 Mr. Harvey Aston's second said to Mr. Francis, ' To 
 tell you the truth, I am very glad it has finished as 
 it has ; for our gentlemen were very likely to have 
 gone on till one fell, and it would not have been very 
 pleasant to bring a man home dead to a widow and 
 six children, which I might have had to do.' By this 
 time Macnamara was looking at his watch, and ex- 
 pressing some anxiety at finding it so late. ' Why/ 
 said Francis, ' we shall get back to town in very good 
 time for the Park or Gardens/ ' Yes, but my dear 
 friend, I have a carriage waiting for me at the inn 
 here ; for the fact is, that I have another little affair
 
 THE ROMANTIC STORY OF SIR PHILIP FRANCIS. 333 
 
 of the same nature a few miles farther off, and I am 
 afraid that the other party will have to wait for me, 
 which has always an awkward appearance in such 
 cases.' ' Very true ; but pray am I to accompany 
 you ? ' 'I am sorry to say I have another friend, 
 who would be affronted if I were to ask anyone else 
 as second in this affair, and I am to call on him in 
 my road, and if I disappoint him it will probably 
 produce a third meeting, which for the pleasure of 
 your company and assistance I shall not mind if you 
 will be my friend ; but it was a favour I could not 
 previously ask, having been of so little service to you.' 
 ' My dear sir, you could not have done better ; but I 
 assure you I have not the least wish to disappoint 
 your friend, and therefore will take the carriage we 
 came in immediately back to town, as you have 
 another, in which I hope you will arrive in time to 
 turn the practice of this morning to good account.' >: 
 
 The rest of Francis's life was more or less turbulent. 
 His singular reserve as to his writing of " Junius " is 
 well known, and in his old age, when some unthinking 
 guest, emboldened by encouragement, would begin, 
 " Sir Philip, I want to ask you a question," the other 
 with a stern, haughty look, would warn him off the 
 subject, and hint that he would make it a personal 
 matter. Innumerable volumes have been written on 
 this favourite subject of speculation, including Mr. 
 Twistleton's sumptuous quarto ; but no completely
 
 334 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 convincing solution has been arrived at. It is im- 
 possible, however, for an unprejudiced person to read 
 the controversy without arriving at the conclusion, 
 first, that the authorship of Francis offers the least 
 difficulties ; secondly, that his natural character, career, 
 and style, offer almost convincing evidence in his 
 favour ; and finally, that no other of the candidates 
 named are gifted with the proper qualifications. He 
 died on December 23rd, 1818, and his last moments 
 are thus described by his wife : 
 
 " DEAR SIR, 
 
 " I received his last breath ; I was alone with 
 him in his last moments. On Saturday night, I sat 
 up alone with him, and in the middle of the night 
 read the newspapers and some letters to him, sitting 
 upon his bed. On Sunday night, not being at all 
 aware of his danger, as we were assured from' his 
 medical attendant that he would recover this attack, 
 and being much fatigued, I left him for some hours, 
 but returned on Monday morning at seven o'clock to 
 his bedside, which I never quitted again for a minute 
 till he was no more ; and never was a death so worthy 
 of such a life his spirits composed, tranquil, and even 
 cheerful ; his mind apparently as strong as ever, and 
 his perception as quick. Though he evidently feared 
 disturbing himself by talking, he expressed his grati- 
 tude for all my little attentions and cares during that
 
 THE ROMAXTIC STORY OF SIR PHILIP FRANCIS. 335 
 
 sad and solemn, yet, upon reflection, consolatory, 
 night, in the most touching manner. I was not 
 aware at the time, though I now am, that he knew 
 how short his time was. He showed the greatest 
 anxiety that I should not leave him a moment, no 
 doubt anticipating my future regrets had I done so, 
 which I often assured him I would not ; but he never 
 expressed the least fear or anxiety on any other 
 subject. Towards the morning he was lulled into a 
 sweet trance, from which he revived and spoke to 
 me, and took some refreshment. About ten in the 
 morning, he fell by degrees into a deep sleep ; his 
 breath was free, his cough gone, his pulse good. 
 It had lasted four hours, and I was flattering myself 
 with the hopes of his waking much restored ; Mrs. 
 Cholmondeley had just left me, when, on a sudden, 
 the breathing I had been listening to so contentedly, 
 being easier, stopped. I thought he had awoke, and 
 undrew the curtain, hung over him, and met his last 
 breath ; not a sigh, not a motion, not a change 
 of countenance. Heart, pulses, and breath stopped 
 at once without an effort. How blessed ! how 
 merciful ! "
 
 EARLY LOVES OF GIBBON AND PITT. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 EARLY LOVES OF GIBBON AND PITT. 
 
 ONCE rummaging those pleasant boxes of old books 
 which line the quais of Paris opposite the Academy, 
 (and which certainly offer the best returns for such 
 careless digging), down towards the Quai Conti, 
 where Yorick bought his gloves from the famous 
 grisette, the writer came on a little morocco-bound 
 almanac interleaved. It had belonged to some royalist 
 family, and was full of interesting addresses, such as 
 that of Target the lawyer, and others. Among 
 them, however, was one of special interest that 
 of Mademoiselle Curchod, then living pres de Geneve. 
 The name of this young lady an obscure Swiss 
 parson's daughter gave the little book all its interest ; 
 for she was to become celebrated, first, as the early 
 love of Edward Gibbon, when he was merely a clever 
 young man travelling, and pursuing diligently his 
 studies for the great book which was to make 
 
 z 2
 
 340 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AX HOUR. 
 
 him famous ; later, as the wife of a real statesman, 
 Necker, and on account of her own brilliancy, accom- 
 plishments, and sterling virtues, the faithful admiring 
 wife and clever writer ; and lastly, as the mother of 
 a daughter far more famous the restless, half-manly, 
 brilliant observer, Madame de Stael. These are sub- 
 stantial claims to notice. Yet she belongs to a class 
 of characters who are not at all conspicuous, and 
 whose name, rather than life, is familiar to the 
 popular mind. But by the reader and student they 
 are considered with extraordinary respect, on the 
 grounds of weight and of worth ; and the eye that 
 follows the strange chaos of the Eevolution, and the 
 frenzy which seemed to sweep away all honour and 
 principle, settles with satisfaction on this image of 
 a true woman calm, firm, gentle, beloved by all 
 who had the happiness of knowing her. 
 
 The face and figure of Gibbon are familiar to us 
 from the profile usually found at the beginning of his 
 collected works. The testimony of foreigners as 
 well as of Englishmen, both sufficiently prove its 
 accuracy. To corroborate it farther, there is the 
 well-known story of the blind French old lady, and 
 Charles Fox's coarse lines, neither of which testimonies 
 could be well produced here. This great man was 
 a lover a lover when he was old as well as when 
 he was young. The style of his letters was rather 
 pedantic and like a page of his history, and the result
 
 EARLY LOVES OF GIBBON AND PITT. 341 
 
 proved that he was not what is called a successful 
 lover. The story of his early life is well known ; his 
 conversion to the Catholic religion, and his expatria- 
 tion by his father to Switzerland, to be placed under 
 the care of a divine there, who was to reconvert him. 
 Change of scene, and perhaps an absence of earnest- 
 ness, made the task not difficult ; and the tutor was 
 soon able to report that grace and conviction had 
 done their work. How successful that labour had 
 been, a famous chapter in his history was presently 
 to show. 
 
 He was established at Lausanne, read a great 
 deal, saw not a few remarkable people, and being 
 known as " an Anglais of fortune " crow s of whom 
 were then overrunning Europe under the charge of 
 "bear-leaders," a subject which Sterne was to choose 
 presently for a sermon was taken much notice of. 
 His extraordinary information and studiousness were 
 another recommendation. Not very far away there 
 was a little village up in the mountains that separated 
 the Pays de Vaud from Burgundy, and there a humble 
 clergyman looked after a more humble flock. The 
 learned convert, who soon made his acquaintance, 
 could praise his gifts in a phrase that reads very much 
 like a note out of his " Roman History." " His pro- 
 fession did not extinguish the philosophy and modera- 
 tion of his temper ; " a strange sort of compliment, 
 pleasantly in keeping with the satiric vein of this
 
 342 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUK. 
 
 profound writer. The clergyman's wife was a French 
 lady, to whom the young student was more gallant, 
 saying that she had preferred her religion to her 
 country having, in short, been obliged to quit 
 France through the severity of the penal laws. 
 
 But this pair had a daughter Susanne. She 
 seems to have been a charming person ; and her 
 later career showed that the young man at that 
 time was at least as well able to judge of human 
 character in real life as he was when he had to 
 decide on its old incomplete manifestation in books. 
 She used occasionally to pay a short visit to her 
 friends, and come across the mountains to Lausanne ; 
 and she left behind her every mouth filled with the 
 praises of the wit, beauty, and erudition of the 
 clergyman's daughter. Young Mr. Gibbon soon heard 
 of this prodigy, and became curious to see her. He 
 was presently introduced, and was quite captivated 
 by her. 
 
 Not many years later, a Frenchman Suard met 
 Mr. Gibbon, and described him in a rather malignant 
 fashion. Leaving a margin for ill-nature, it must 
 be accepted as tolerably accurate. "The root of 
 Mr. Gibbon's nose seems to be sunk deeper into his 
 forehead than ever Calmuck's was ; and the shapeless 
 trunk of his body, with its stomach of Silenus, rests 
 on a pair of spindleshanks." His blemishes had not, 
 of course, been developed at this time, but were in
 
 EARLY LOVES OF GIBE OX AND PITT. 343 
 
 posse, as it were. But the young lady that attracted 
 him had many charms. He himself gave a graceful 
 and illustrative description of her attractions. He 
 found her 'learned without pedantry, lively in con- 
 versation, pure in her sentiments, and elegant in her 
 manners." The young eleve was fascinated. " I saw 
 her," he says, "and loved." His "first sudden 
 emotion " was fortified by the habits and knowledge 
 of a more familiar acquaintance. His advances were 
 encouraged. From mere meetings at Lausanne, it 
 came to formal visits at her father's modest little 
 parsonage over the mountains. He looked back 
 to these as very happy days. The father and 
 mother honourably "encouraged the connection." 
 "In a calm retirement," says Mr. Gibbon in his 
 stately historic way, as though he were describing 
 the Empress Helena, "the gay vanity of youth no 
 longer fluttered in her bosom. She listened to the 
 voice of truth and passion ; and he might venture to 
 hope that he had made some impression on a virtuous 
 heart." 
 
 Mr. Gibbon pursued his studies for a year or 
 two longer, still speaking "in the voice of truth," 
 and was then summoned home to England by his 
 father. In all this was Mr. Gibbon, with his " voice 
 of truth and passion," and his "impression on a 
 virtuous heart," his vows to a simple country girl, 
 very much like a modern officer in a garrison town.
 
 344 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AX HOUR. 
 
 Like the latter, he is ordered away, or has to go and 
 " see his family," and, as invariably, a third person 
 steps upon the scene and forbids the banns. 
 
 Mr. Gibbon despatches the rest of the business 
 very quietly : " On my return to England I found 
 that my father would not hear of this strange alliance, 
 and that without his support I was destitute and 
 helpless. I sighed as a lover; I obeyed as a son." 
 The reader will note the curious use of the word 
 "strange" in the sense of "foreign" or "incom- 
 patible ; " and the awkwardness of the confession 
 that he only discovered his dependence on his father 
 at so convenient a moment. The " voice of truth " 
 and even of passion was hushed in presence of this 
 unsentimental argument. We may think of the 
 poor girl in the lonely mountains, waiting for the 
 lagging English post, then having this news broken 
 to her with all the ingenious and elegant diction 
 of the author of the " Decline and Fall ; " her 
 mortification, too, before the Lausanne coterie, with 
 nothing left to console her but the " erudition without 
 pedantry," w r hich had so charmed her faithless 
 admirer. 
 
 When he said he had "obeyed as a son," it 
 must be owned that Mr. Gibbon gives a rather 
 unhandsome account of the short sequel of the 
 affair ; or it may be that his lofty " Decline and Fall " 
 manner had made him view everything as having
 
 EARLY LOVES OF GIBBON AND PITT. 345 
 
 historical bearings of some kind. That strange 
 irony, sometimes unintentional with him, had grown 
 into a habit ; and so he goes on : " My wound was 
 insensibly healed by time, absence, and the habits 
 of a new life. My cure was accelerated by a faithful 
 report of the tranquillity and cheerfulness of the lady 
 herself, and my love subsided into friendship and 
 esteem." 
 
 Mr. Gibbon's tranquil version of the incident 
 might have proved the authorised or accepted one, 
 only that the other day her papers were published 
 in a work called " The Salon of Madame Necker," 
 and which supplies her version of the episode. Mr. 
 Gibbon does not figure handsomely. It appears that 
 he left her for four years in a state of uncertainty, 
 whether or not he had completely broken off, or was 
 serious ly neglecting her ; and that, instead of taking 
 her desertion " with the cheerfulness and tranquillity " 
 that he speaks of, she waited another year, making 
 five in all, and then addressed him this piteous and 
 affectionate remonstrance : 
 
 " MONSIEUR," she wrote, "I blush at the applica- 
 tion I am now going to make. I would willingly 
 hide it from you ; I would also hide it from myself. 
 Is it possible, good heavens ! that an innocent heart 
 should so far demean itself ? What a humiliation ! 
 I have had greater troubles, but never one that I
 
 346 
 
 felt so keenly. I cannot help it, and in spite of 
 myself I feel as if I had lost my head. My o\vii 
 peace of mind exacts that I should make this effort ; 
 and if I lose this present opportunity I shall never 
 have another. Whenever I have had a moment's 
 relaxation, my heart, ever ready to torment itself, 
 has always imagined your signs of coldness to be 
 proofs of your delicacy of feeling. For the last five 
 years I have been indulging in this idle fancy in 
 the most exceptional and unaccountable way ; but 
 at last, romantic as I may be, I am now convinced 
 of my error. Upon my knees I beseech you to 
 dissuade a maddened heart. Make a frank avowal 
 of your complete indifference to me. I shall then 
 be in a position to govern my own actions. Certainty 
 will bring with it the repose for which I am anxiously 
 longing. If you refuse me this mark of openness, 
 you will be the most contemptible of men ; for God, 
 who sees my heart, and who loves me though He so 
 sorely tries me God, I say, will punish you in spite 
 of my prayers, if there is the slightest prevarication 
 in your answer, or if by your silence you treat 
 carelessly my peace of mind as though it were a 
 plaything." 
 
 His answer to this reasonable and tender appeal 
 has not been found, but it would appear to have 
 been cold, if not cruel. She thus again expostulated :
 
 EAKLY LOVES OF GIBBOX A2s T D PITT. 347 
 
 " A separation of five years did not do so much 
 to alter my feelings as what has lately taken place. 
 I could have wished that you had written to me 
 sooner, or that your last letter but one had been 
 couched in a different tone. Exalted ideas, when 
 they are supported by an appearance of virtue, may 
 lead one into great errors. You might well have 
 spared me five or six that are now irreparable, and 
 which will for ever determine my lot in this life. 
 I know as well as you that what I am now saying 
 may appear to be neither delicate nor kindhearted. 
 For a long time past I have lost my self-control, 
 but I am pleased to find that I still have enough 
 left to me to feel the bitterness with which I now 
 reproach you. I would, at the same time, ask your 
 pardon, and beg that you do not distress yourself 
 at the unhappiness of my condition. My father and 
 mother are dead ; what chance can hope offer to me ? 
 It was not to you that I sacrificed my hope, but to 
 an imaginary creature who never existed but in a 
 mind such as mine, crack-brained with romance. 
 For as soon as your letter undeceived me you were 
 then to me no more than any other man ; and after 
 having been the only one for whom I could feel 
 attachment, you became one of those for whom I 
 had the least inclination, because you are the 
 most unlike my lean-ideal of a sentimental lover. 
 And you are the only one who can recompense me.
 
 348 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 Carry out your plans of which you have given me 
 the outlines. Join your friendship to that which 
 my other friends have professed for me. You will 
 find me as open-hearted, as kind, and at the same 
 time as indifferent to you as I am towards them. 
 You may believe me when I say that it is not 
 petulance that makes me speak in this way ; if I 
 make use of this last term (no matter how true it 
 be), it is only to assure you that my heart in the 
 end will save yours. My conduct and my sentiments 
 have deserved your esteem and your friendship. Let 
 me reckon upon the one and upon the other, so 
 that henceforward there be no further question of our 
 late intimacy." The future historian replied : 
 
 " MADEMOISELLE, Must you still continue to offer 
 me happiness which prudence compels me to refuse ? 
 I have lost your affection, though I still possess 
 your friendship. In giving me that you do me so 
 much honour that I have no room left for doubt. 
 I accept it, mademoiselle, as a valuable exchange for 
 mine, which is most perfectly yours, and as a treasure 
 whose value I know so well that I can never part with 
 it. But of our correspondence, mademoiselle, if I feel 
 all its pleasures, I perceive also all the dangers. I 
 feel this as regards myself, and I fear for both of us. 
 Pray let my silence protect me. Excuse my fears, 
 mademoiselle ; I think they are not unfounded."
 
 EARLY LOVES OF GIBBOX AXD PITT. 349 
 
 The lady accepted this cold and " author-like " pro- 
 duction, and nothing more took place until they met one 
 day at Ferney, when Gibbon's chilling manner and 
 neglect stung her into writing a letter full of bitter re- 
 proaches, which effectually put an end to all intimacy. 
 
 But she had made a large circle of friends, among 
 whom this desertion caused no little indignation. 
 Eousseau did not care to conceal his opinion. Some 
 one had written to him with a message or commission 
 for Mademoiselle Curchod, and he wrote back to say 
 that he was certain to acquit himself badly in it, 
 on account of his esteem for her. "The cooling-off 
 of Mr. Gibbon has made me think meanly of him. 
 I have been going over his book, and he seems to 
 me to be straining at esprit. He is not the man for 
 me ; nor can I think that he will be the one for 
 Mademoiselle Curchod. Anyone who does not know 
 her value is not worthy of her ; but a man who has 
 come to that knowledge and then withdraws himself, 
 is only worthy of contempt. ... I would sooner a 
 thousand times that he left her poor and free among 
 you than that he brought her rich and miserable away 
 to England." This was plain-speaking, and later was 
 duly published with the rest of the philosopher's 
 letters, and read by Mr. Gibbon, who made a half- 
 good-humoured, half-indignant protest against such 
 treatment ; but through the protest we almost see a 
 secret consciousness of wrong.
 
 350 KTXGS AND QUEEXS OF AX HOUR. 
 
 Mr. Gibbon then went into the militia, and 
 passed through the pleasant exercises of encampment. 
 It is stated that it was this training that really made 
 him give such graphic power to the military portions 
 of his history ; and some distinguished person lately, 
 speaking of the volunteers, quoted this passage. It 
 was received with good-humoured merriment- a good 
 test of the value of so ridiculous a statement. The 
 deserted young lady remained in her retirement until 
 the death of her father left her almost penniless. 
 She then went to Geneva, and was driven to the 
 calling of a governess ; and there, says Mr. Gibbon 
 oddly, " She earned a hard subsistence for herself 
 and her mother; but in her lowest distress she 
 maintained a spotless reputation and a dignified 
 behaviour." This mixture of compliment and awkward 
 reminder was scarcely in his best taste. 
 
 But by-and-by was to come the reward. A rich 
 Swiss banker, who did business in Paris, M. Necker, 
 came that way, and, Gibbon says, "had the good 
 sense to discover this inestimable treasure." Accident 
 and labour, rather than good sense, generally guide 
 discoveries. Her later career is well known, and the 
 compensation for that early trial was destined to be 
 brilliant. The banker became the minister ; not only 
 the minister, but a sort of " heaven-sent " one, called 
 in to save France. The world now knows Madame 
 Necker as one of its heroines the clever, charming
 
 EAELY LOVES OF GIBBOX AXD PITT. 351 
 
 wife, the pleasant agreeable writer, the devoted 
 partner, the good and pious woman, and the mother 
 of the more famous "Corinne" Madame de Stael. 
 Mr. Gibbon found his way to Paris, where they 
 were living, when the past was prudently forgotten ; 
 and in her salons was exhibited the distinguished 
 Englishman, now very famous. 
 
 He, however, paid this homage to his early love 
 he never married. He was wealthy, and might have 
 done so with advantage. The curious society at 
 Lausanne and in Switzerland, where he saw Voltaire 
 act, had a special charm for him. And so he pored 
 over his Tillemont and his Baronius, collected books 
 and wrote, and grew fat and gouty and almost 
 absurdly out of shape ; and it was precisely at that 
 crisis, when he was just fifty years old, he chose 
 to fall in love again. The dramatic finale of 
 that attachment was so comic, and placed him in so 
 ridiculous a light, that it almost seems a Nemesis in 
 consequence of his old desertion. It took place in 
 the same locality. 
 
 Lady Elizabeth Foster, who afterwards became 
 Duchess of Devonshire, a daughter of the eccentric 
 Bishop of Bristol, and of whom we have a 
 glimpse in the account of the beautiful duchess, 
 was on her travels over Europe. She was a true 
 specimen of the dilettante English who were then 
 found on the Continent, and who really did noble and
 
 352 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 liberal acts with their money in the service of art. 
 Fancy a lady of title nowadays printing an edition de 
 luxe of Horace at an Italian press, exquisitely illus- 
 trated, and costing a fortune ! 
 
 Mr. Gibbon was at that really dramatic passage of 
 his life, in the middle of the year 1787, when he was 
 completing his History, and, on a certain night in 
 June, had written the last line of the last page of the 
 great work. Great as it is, it seems now to be 
 regarded more with respect and awe than affection ; 
 a feeling tha.t Mr. Dickens very happily expressed 
 when he made Mr. Boffin choose it for the work with 
 which he was to make his first acquaintance with 
 literature. Very familiar is the description of the 
 almost solemn act performed in a pavilion at the end 
 of his garden. Laying down his pen, he took several 
 turns in the " acacia alley," with a feeling of joy at 
 getting back his liberty after this long and arduous 
 servitude ; but dashed with a certain melancholy, as 
 he thought, however lasting might be the reputation 
 of the book, the days of the writer might be numbered. 
 
 The lady arrived shortly after, and struck him, as 
 she struck all, with the elegance of her form and 
 manner, her esprit, cleverness, and, above all, the 
 nice cl propos of her compliments. She took a great 
 interest in that dramatic completion of the great 
 History, and was one morning asked to breakfast to 
 inspect the'very scene. In the meantime, Mr. Gibbon
 
 EARLY LOVES OF GIBBOX AND PITT. 353 
 
 had interpreted her "sweetness" and elegance, and 
 all the compliments, as so many proofs of the impres- 
 sion he was making upon her heart. And it seemed 
 this occasion would do excellently well to bring on a 
 denouement. After breakfast was over, he brought 
 her out to look at the famous acacia walk, and the 
 view of lake and mountain which it commanded. 
 She was enthusiastic in her delight, and expressed 
 herself in all the raptures becoming admiration for 
 scenery, when the historian suddenly affected to be 
 jealous of the praise bestowed on such objects, and 
 electrified her by an eloquent and passionate declara- 
 tion, at the same time falling on his knees. 
 
 The astonished lady could hardly understand at 
 first ; then burst into a fit of laughter. The situation 
 must have been ludicrous indeed ; the unwieldy lover 
 still pouring out his vows, and she remaining some 
 paces off and trying to soothe him. At last he 
 understood his mistake, and then she bade him get 
 up. But this was impossible ; gout, enormous fat, 
 and rheumatism utterly incapacitated him. The 
 brilliant lady, cruelly ignoring the romance of the 
 situation, came to his aid, and tried to raise him ; 
 but it was in vain. Then both parties agreed to look 
 at the matter in a prosaic light ; and it was deter- 
 mined that she should go for assistance, and give out 
 that Gibbon had fallen. She went, and two stout 
 peasants of the place came up, raised him between 
 
 VOL. I. 2 A
 
 354 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 them, and landed him in his familiar easy-chair. 
 These honest creatures soundly rated him for his 
 folly, and told him he should not stir without the 
 help of servants. To her honour, the duchess never 
 mentioned this ludicrous adventure during his life- 
 time ; but she afterwards told it to the Chevalier 
 A. de Montor, who relates it in the " Biographic 
 Universelle." The late Dr. Kussell, the learned and 
 amiable President of Maynooth College, has called 
 attention to this scene in his " Life of Mezzofanti," as 
 well as to the curious blunder of Lord Brougham, 
 who makes Mdlle. Curchod the heroine. Had the 
 rejected Mdlle. Curchod ever heard of this ludicrous 
 scene, which no doubt she did, a smile must have 
 come to her lips ; and she, perhaps, felt that her old 
 wrong had been more than avenged. 
 
 With the name of Mr. Pitt, the great English 
 minister, nothing like romance is associated. His 
 face and figure, which, in murky bronze, presides at 
 the top of George Street, Hanover Square the ugly 
 nose and thoroughly official figure, seemed to warn off 
 all such associations. The grim prose of politics, 
 reports, speeches, and despatches were what engrossed 
 him. He died unmarried. All the comic papers of 
 the time are exceedingly merry on the subject of his 
 callous indifference to female charms ; and in the 
 " Rolliad " there was much jesting on "the immaculate
 
 EARLY LOVES OF GIBBOX AXD PITT. 355 
 
 boy," as lie was styled. Mr. Pitt, however, had his 
 "pleasant vice," viz., a fondness for port wine, 
 resorted to for the purpose of stimulating his parlia- 
 mentary exertions, great speeches, etc. He was also 
 fond of soldiering, and conscientiously looked after the 
 militia regiment of which he was colonel. 
 
 Yet he was not so unsusceptible to female charms 
 as was supposed. Lady Hester Stanhope declared 
 that no one could have a more just or critical eye in 
 such matters, and that often, on returning together 
 from a party, he pleasantly expatiated on the merits 
 of the various dames and beauties, and noted in artistic 
 defects in their dress. To one he showed such devotion 
 that he is said to have drunk out of her shoe. The 
 truth was that this self-denial was not a fresh proof of 
 the heroism of his character ; he felt that his talents 
 and time were his country's. In the service of that 
 country he had sunk himself in debt ; under which 
 load he might hope to struggle on, if he remained 
 unencumbered by the burden and distractions of a 
 family. Such a luxury as the placens uxor was only 
 for statesmen in easy circumstances. In this con- 
 dition of things he bore with good-humour and 
 protest the unmeaning and even scandalous attacks 
 that were made upon him by his enemies, who used 
 this ordinary and not uncommon condition of celibacy 
 as an engine of personal attack. And yet all the 
 time, cold and uriimpassioned as he was supposed 
 
 A L'
 
 356 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 to be, he was secretly burning with the gentle 
 passion. 
 
 With the active official politician and officer, 
 Mr. Eden who became Lord Auckland Mr. Pitt 
 was on the most intimate and affectionate terms for 
 many years. Lord Auckland had a favourite daughter, 
 Eleanor, whom her fond father afterwards described 
 as "a very beautiful and good creature, with every 
 advantage of a strong mind and right principles." 
 Mr. Pitt found his way often to Eden Farm, and was 
 much attracted by this charming girl. The hopes of the 
 family were much raised. To be the wife of so celebrated 
 a man, and of the prime minister of England, might 
 seem a brilliant conquest. The young lady was only 
 twenty, Mr. Pitt eighteen years older. Already the 
 affair was a matter of gossip, and Mr. Pitt's at- 
 tentions to Miss Eden were subject of congratulation. 
 It may be conceived with what pain and conster- 
 nation it was found that her lover had abruptly 
 broken off this intimacy ; and the father soon received 
 an explanation, in the shape of a sort of official 
 communique, the tone of which is characteristic. He 
 "found it totally impossible to return thither without 
 having (as far as it might depend on himself) formed 
 a decision on a point that had remained in suspense 
 too long already." He added : 
 
 " It can hardly be necessary to say that the time 
 I have passed among your family has led to my form-
 
 EAKLY LOVES OF GIBBOX AND PITT. 357 
 
 ing sentiments of very real attachment to them all, 
 and of much more than attachment to one whom I 
 need not name. Every hour of acquaintance with 
 the person to whom you will easily conceive I refer, 
 has served to augment and confirm that impression. 
 In short, it has convinced me that whoever may have 
 the good fortune to be united with her, is destined to 
 more than his share of human happiness." 
 
 He then proceeded to "blame himself for not 
 having sooner looked into his difficulties, which he 
 now finds have become insurmountable ; but feels it 
 impossible not to avow his attachment, and leaves it 
 to Lord Auckland's discretion to impart what he had 
 written to the person most concerned." 
 
 Several letters passed between Lord Auckland and 
 Mr. Pitt. The former suggested arrangements by 
 which the marriage might in time take place without 
 imprudence ; but the stoical Mr. Pitt declared that, 
 " though he was sacrificing his best hopes and dearest 
 wishes to his conviction and judgment, further dis- 
 cussion would lead only to prolonged suspense and 
 increased anxiety." 
 
 It is pretty plain to anyone who considers the 
 matter impartially, that Pitt behaved honourably, 
 though, perhaps, with coldness. He withdrew in 
 time, and certainly before any formal proposals or 
 expectations could have been reasonably made. A 
 friend of the late Lord Stanhope, who had seen the
 
 358 
 
 letters, declares that the transaction began with 
 Pitt's confession of poverty and embarrassment, and 
 that Lord Auckland frankly confessed that the 
 objection was reasonable, and that he was not in- 
 clined to expose his daughter to poverty and 
 privation. 
 
 On the other hand, Lord Auckland's represen- 
 tative, who had the papers before him, did not 
 accept this view, adding that " an erroneous account 
 is given of the correspondence that took place 
 respecting the interesting affair of 1797. If it 
 were of the character described by Lord Stanhope, 
 there could not possibly have been the slightest 
 objection to publish it ; but the fact is, a long and 
 painful discussion took place on that occasion, which 
 terminated honourably to all parties concerned. It 
 is entirely incorrect to state that Lord Auckland 
 was in the slightest degree averse to the marriage 
 on account of Mr. Pitt's pecuniary difficulties; on 
 the contrary, believing that his daughter was attached 
 to Mr. Pitt, he was naturally anxious that it should 
 take place." 
 
 On this painful explanation the intimacy between 
 the parties was broken off. Friends of both felt that 
 this was a pity, and that Lord Auckland's advice was 
 useful to the minister and to the country. The 
 Archbishop of Canterbury accordingly wrote to pro- 
 pose that the former should pass over his daughter's
 
 EARLY LOVES OF GIBBON AXD PITT. 359 
 
 treatment and make due allowance. " I am persuaded 
 that it will be a relief to both your minds to meet, 
 though the first moment will be unpleasant. Sub- 
 jects more than enough will present themselves for 
 conversation, and as soon as it appears that the par- 
 ticular subject will not be introduced on either side, 
 discussions will engross you both, and things will go 
 on between you much more easily and naturally than 
 they will ever do if the present separation continues 
 for a time. You wait for him to begin. I think he 
 can't do it. He does not know what he is to expect 
 in the meeting." Lord Auckland took this advice, 
 and his advances were gratefully received : 
 
 " MY DEAR LORD, 
 
 "I cannot say how much I feel obliged to 
 you for your kind and friendly note. It will be the 
 greatest satisfaction and assistance to me to think 
 and talk over with you the subjects you mention, as 
 soon and as fully as possible. " W. PITT." 
 
 Accordingly they were soon friends again. 
 
 Miss Eden was not long left single. A clever rising 
 politician, Lord Hobart, afterwards Earl of Buck- 
 inghamshire, within two years offered his hand. 
 When the news was communicated to his former 
 admirers it is characteristic to note how he behaved 
 in rather an awkward situation :
 
 360 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 " MY DEAR LORD, 
 
 " I have heard from the Speaker the circum- 
 stance which you desired him to mention, and give 
 you many thanks for your very kind attention in 
 making the communication, and in making him the 
 channel of it. There could be no event interesting 
 to any part of your family which would not be so 
 to me ; and, certainly, this is not the instance where 
 I feel that sentiment the least. I congratulate you 
 and all around you with the most cordial good wishes. 
 " Ever affectionately yours, 
 
 "W. PITT." 
 
 Such was the end of Pitt's early love.
 
 THE STORY OF L. E. L.
 
 THE STORY OF L. E. L. 
 
 OXE of the most interesting and even romantic of 
 literary figures is that of Letitia Landon whose 
 curious signature of three letters seems always to 
 bring before persons quite unacquainted with her 
 story, poetical associations of a special and interest- 
 ing kind. There are but few now alive who know 
 her sad history : there are two, however persons of 
 great age who were intimately acquainted with her, 
 and who know well the details of the last sad episode 
 of her life. There was something in her history, and 
 a genuine tone of romance in her poems, which fell 
 into the " Book of Beauty " and " Annuals " category, 
 attractive to the young and impulsive. Her portrait, 
 too, which was published, invites the same interest. 
 
 This pleasing young creature, born at Chelsea in 
 1802, found herself at Brompton about the year 
 1814, the neighbour of one who was then an im- 
 portant literary personage, the director of the most
 
 364 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUE. 
 
 influential journal of the day, The Literary Gazette. 
 "My cottage," he says, " overlooked the mansion and 
 grounds of Mr. Landon, the father of L. E. L. ; a 
 narrow lane only dividing our residences. My first 
 recollection of the future poetess is that of a plump 
 girl, grown enough to be almost mistaken for a 
 woman, bowling a hoop round the walks, with the 
 hoop-stick in one hand and a book in the other, 
 reading as she ran, and, as well as she could, manag- 
 ing both exercise and instruction at the same time. 
 The exercise was prescribed and insisted upon : the 
 book was her own irrepressible choice." This pre- 
 sently led to the usual request, modestly made, in 
 such cases, " would Mr. Jerdan just cast his eyes over 
 some lines of poetry ? " He did so, and encouraged 
 the young girl. He became to her a sort of guide 
 and friend and educator, and in a na'ive passage the 
 grave editor seems to more than hint that he was 
 regarded as an " ideal " : 
 
 It is the very essence of the being I have so faintly portrayed, 
 not to see things in their actual state, but to imagine, create, exag- 
 gerate, and form them into idealities ; and then to view them in 
 the light in which vivid fancy alone has made them appear. Thus 
 it befell with my tuition of L. E. L. Her poetic emotions and 
 aspirations were intense, usurping in fact almost every other func- 
 tion of the brain : and the assistance I could give her in the ardent 
 pursuit produced an influence not readily to be conceived under 
 other circumstances or upon a less imaginative nature. The result 
 was a grateful and devoted attachment; all phases of which 
 demonstrate and illume the origin of her productions. Critics and
 
 THE STORY OF L. E. L. 365 
 
 biographers may guess, and speculate, and expatiate for ever ; but 
 without this master-key they will make nothing of their reveries. 
 "\Vith it, all is intelligible and obvious ; and I have only to call on 
 the admirers of her delicious compositions to remember this ona 
 fact, to settle the question of their reality or romance that they 
 are the effusions of passionate inspiration, lighted from such un- 
 likely sources. It was her spirit which clothed them according to 
 her own unreal dreams. 
 
 Gradually her poems began to excite attention. 
 She soon became a useful assistant on the Gazette, 
 doing, besides her verses, reviews and essays ; carry- 
 ing that hod, as it were, which secured, at least, 
 a satisfactory daily wage. She became known and 
 sought. She received good prices for her books, 
 though these were conceived in a spirit of romance 
 that might be called "second hand; " the scenes she de- 
 
 O ' 
 
 scribes being laid in Italy, where she had never been. 
 Her friend furnishes the following prosaic but satis- 
 factory table of receipts " Romance and Reality " it 
 might be called : 
 
 O 
 
 For the " Improvisatrice " she received . . 300 
 
 For the " Troubadour " 600 
 
 For the " Golden Violet " 200 
 
 For the " Venetian Bracelet " . . . .150 
 
 For the " Easter Offering " 30 
 
 For the " Drawing-room Scrap Book " . . .105 
 For " Eomance and .Reality " 300 
 
 For " Francesca Carrara "..... 300 
 For " Heath's Book of Beauty " . . . .300 
 And certainly from other Annuals, Magazines, and 
 
 Periodicals, not less in ten or twelve years than 200 
 
 In all 2,485
 
 366 KIXGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 The fair L. E. L. became herself editress of one of 
 those engravers' books which were then in high 
 fashion, bound in blue or crimson silk, and printed 
 on wove, hot-pressed paper, and for which elegant 
 amateurs were glad to furnish verses and sketches ; 
 the names of persons of fashion being mingled with 
 those of the professionals. But it took a great many 
 years before she attained to this elevation. Lady 
 Blessington was the successful conductor of another 
 of these publications ; and readers of the life of 
 Dr. Madden will gather a good idea of the almost 
 abject lengths to which the literary aspirant would 
 go to secure a place in her venture. 
 
 One of the pleasantest views we have of her is a 
 little "junketing" evidently a great effort she 
 took to Paris, in 1834, by the somewhat homely 
 conveyance of one of the General Steam Navigation 
 Company's packets from St. Katherine's Wharf. She 
 wrote regularly to her first friend Jerdan, who always 
 seemed flattered by her attentions ; but an attractive 
 young woman, who was at the same time amusingly 
 anxious about the "siller," insensibly begins to flatter 
 the editor, whom she likes, and on whom at the same 
 time so much depends. She writes from Boulogne : 
 
 " I began a letter to you yesterday, but on taking it up this 
 morning I find it is, even to you, scarcely legible, so will begin it 
 over again. I have also another reason : I wrote on English paper, 
 which is heavier, and I have to pay the inland postage, and to-day
 
 THE STOKY OF L. E. L. 367 
 
 my time ne vautpas mes sou*. You cannot think how I missed you. 
 I really thought the morning never would pass. It did pass, however, 
 and then I wished it back again. The wind blew directly in our 
 teeth. It was impossible to read for three reasons : the sun, the 
 wind, and the noise. 
 
 "And when I endeavoured to get into a pleasant train of 
 thought it made me melancholy to think I was leaving my native 
 country. I was fairly dying with a desire of talking. I am quite 
 cured of my wish to die for some time to come, as I really think 
 that now I quite understand what the sensation is. I was not sick 
 scarcely at all ; but so faint ! As to what Boulogne is like from 
 the sea, I cannot tell. I scarcely recollect anything about my 
 landing. Misfortune first recalled my scattered faculties. At the 
 Custom House you are searched." 
 
 Again she wrote : 
 
 " "We could not get places to go to Paris till Sunday. 
 Miss Turin wanted to have taken the whole coupe, which would 
 have been very comfortable ; but a gentleman has already one 
 place, and it is scarcely worth while waiting till Tuesday. More- 
 over, the comlndi'ur says that 'c'est un monsieur si poli.' How he 
 has ascertained the fact I do not know. It has a very odd effect 
 hearing a strange language spoken under our windows ; and now I 
 have told you everything that I can think of, which does not 
 amount to much. However, I have taken two things for granted, 
 first, that you would expect my first letter, and also that you would 
 be glad to hear how I was. I fear I shall never make a traveller. 
 I am already beginning to count the days for my return. Kind 
 regards to all inquiring friends, and hoping that you are missing 
 me very much." 
 
 In another letter : 
 
 " The first thing that I did was to write to you from Boulogne, 
 and the first thing that I do is to write to you from Paris ; but 
 truly the pleasure of seeing my handwriting must be sufficient. 
 Never was there a worse traveller. I arrived in Paris more dead 
 than alive, and till this evening have not held up my head. The
 
 3G3 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AX HOUR. 
 
 beginning of our journey was delightful ; the road is like one 
 avenue, and it was so pretty, having the children, every hill we 
 ascended, throwing roses into the carriage, asking for sous. I 
 was scarcely sensible when we arrived at Paris, and was just lifted 
 out of the dil'ujence. Since then the extent of my travels has been 
 from the bed to the sofa. We have very pleasant apartments, 
 looking on the boulevards such a gay scene. It seems so odd to 
 see the people walking about in caps, looking so neat, and, I must 
 add, so clean. Mercy on the French carriages and horses ; they 
 make such a clatter ; drive far more with their tongues than the 
 reins. We have delicious dinners, if I could but eat, which at 
 present is an impossibility. I am still a horrid figure with my 
 sea and sunburning. 
 
 " Be sure wafer, and thin paper. I shall be very glad to see 
 England again. 
 
 " I wish I could find any channel of writing by the ambas- 
 sador's bag, for the postage which I have to pay is two francs, and, 
 what is much worse, the post-office is at the other end of the town, 
 and even when I have a messenger, whom I must pay, the chances 
 are that he will not pay it. I long to see the Gazette ; and now 
 must end abruptly or lose my opportunity. Pray write to me. I 
 wish I were at home Avithout the journey. I shall write the 
 moment I have anything to tell, and must watch my means of 
 going to the post-oftice. 
 
 " Love and fear are the greatest principles of human existence. 
 If you owed my letter of yesterday to the first of these, you owe 
 that of to-day to the last. What, in the name of all that is 
 dreadful in the way of postage, could induce you to put the 
 Gazette in your letter? Welcome as it was, it has cost me 
 dear nearly six shillings. I was so glad to see your handwriting 
 that the shock was lost in the pleasure ; but truly, when I come 
 to reflect and put it down in my pocket-book, I am ' in a state.' 
 The Gazette alone would only have cost twopence, and the 
 letter deux francs ; but altogether it is ruinous. Please, when you 
 next write, let it bo on the thinnest paper, and put a wafer. Still, 
 I was delighted to hear from you, and a most amusing letter ifc 
 was. The Gazette is a real treat. It is such an excellent one 
 as to make me quite jealous.
 
 THE STORY OF L. E. L. 369 
 
 " My only approach to an adventure has been as follows : I 
 was advised, as the best remedy against the excessive fatigue 
 under which I was suffering, to take a bath, which I did early 
 one morning. I found it quite delicious, and was reading 'La 
 Derniere JoumeV, when I fell asleep, and was, in consequence, 
 nearly drowned. I suppose the noise of the book falling aroused 
 me, and I shall never forget the really dreadful feeling of suffoca- 
 tion, the ringing in my ears, like a great bell, with which I was 
 awakened." 
 
 She then adroitly turns to "business" : 
 
 " I think some very interesting papers might be written on the 
 modern French authors. "We know nothing of them. If I do 
 write them I must buy some. At Galignani's they only allow 
 two works at a time, and I can scarcely get any that I desire. I 
 am thinking of subscribing to a French library. One feels the 
 want of a gentleman here very much. 
 
 " I was so glad of your letter. 
 
 " I have been hitherto too ill to do anything ; but I have 
 quite arranged my plan to write in my own room four or five 
 hours every morning ; so I hope to get a great deal done. Adieu, 
 au revoir." 
 
 " 35, Rue le Grand, lundi, 
 " Which, being done into English, means Monday. 
 
 " I hope you will not think that I intend writing you to death ; 
 but I cannot let this opportunity pass. Miss Montgomery leaves 
 Paris to-morrow, and so write I must. I am quite surprised that 
 I should have so little to tell you ; but really I have nothing, as 
 ill-luck would have it. I went to call on Madame Tastu, from 
 whom I received a charming note ; and, while I was out, Monsieur 
 Sainte-Beuve and Monsieur Odillon Barrot called. However, the 
 latter wrote to me offering his services as cicerone, etc., and I 
 expect him this morning. M. Heine called yesterday; a most 
 pleasant person. I am afraid he did not think me a personne bien 
 fjnritwllc, for you know it takes a long time with me to get over 
 the shame of speaking to a stranger. By way of conversation he 
 said : ' Mademoiselle done a beaucoup couru les boutiques 1 ' ' Mais 
 VOL. i. 2 B
 
 370 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 non.' ' A-t-elle ete au Jardin des Plantes ? ' ' Mais non.' ' Avez- 
 voua e"t6 a 1'opera, aux th&itres 1 ' ' Mais non.' ' Peut-etre 
 Mademoiselle aime la promenade?' 'Mais non.' 'A-t-elle done 
 apport6 beaucoup de livres, ou peut-ctre elle e"crit ? ' ' Mais non.' 
 At last in seeming despair, he exclaimed : ' Mais Mademoiselle, 
 qu'est-ce que c'est done qu'elle a fait ? ' ' Mais mais j'ai regardu 
 par la fenetre.' Was there ever anything si bete? but I really 
 eould think of nothing else. I am enchanted with Madame Tastu ; 
 her manners are so kind, so encouraging. I did not feel much 
 embarrassed after the first She has fine features, though there 
 was something about her face that put me in mind of Miss Roberts, 
 but with a softened expression. If I had known as much of Paris 
 as I do even now, I would not have come. In the first place, 
 there is nobody here; a la campagne is almost the universal 
 answer. Secondly, it is of no use coming with only a lady ; I 
 might almost as well have stayed in London. Thirdly, it is too 
 short a time ; I shall not have made a little acquaintance before I 
 must leave. Fourthly, one ought to be married, and fifthly, I 
 wish myself at home again." 
 
 Once more to business : 
 
 "If I had the opportunity, the time, and could procure the 
 books, I am sure a most delightful series of articles might be written 
 on French literature. We know nothing of it; and it would 
 require an immense deal of softening and adaptation to suit it to 
 English taste. How well you have done ' The Revolutionary 
 Epick ! ' though with less vanity, Disraeli has all the elements of 
 a great poet ; but there is something wanting in the putting 
 together. Taste is his great deficiency. 
 
 "I quite dread though impatient for it my journey back 
 again. I shall never make a traveller. 
 
 " My present address ought to be well known to you. 1 I 
 write on purpose to scold you. Why have you not sent me the 
 Gazette? it would have been such a treat. Also, you have not 
 (like everybody else) written to me, and I quite pine for news 
 
 1 " From my translation and publication of 'L'Hermite' of Jouy.'
 
 THE STORY OF L. E. L. 371 
 
 from England. I would return to-morrow if I had the opportunity. 
 I do not think that you have properly valued my letters ; for things 
 ought to he valued according to their difficulty, and really -writing 
 is no little trouble, to say nothing of putting my epistles in. the 
 post. I have been very unwell ever since my arrival, and for the 
 last three days I have scarcely been off the sofa. The fatigue and 
 the heat are equally overpowering. I feel so unequal to the 
 exertion of hearing and seeing. I cannot tell you half the kind- 
 ness and civility which I have received. Of all the persons I have 
 met, or, rather, who have called upon me for there is no meeting 
 anybody now, all the soirees being over I have been the most 
 struck with M. Heine ; his conversation, is most original and 
 amusing. Poor Miss Turin is still in the doctor's hands, and of 
 course it is impossible for me to go out by myself, or accept the 
 attendance of any gentleman alone, so that I am surrounded with 
 all sorts of little difficulties and embarrassments. I never again 
 would think of going anywhere with only a lady ; one might 
 almost as well stay at home. I had no idea till now how useful 
 you gentlemen are I might say, how indispensable. We are very 
 comfortably situated ; we have delightful bedrooms, a little ante- 
 chamber, and the prettiest saloon, looking on a charming garden. ' 
 The quiet is such a relief ; for in Rue Louis-le-Grand we could not 
 hear each other's voice for the noise ; and above my head was a 
 printer, and opposite my window a carpenter's. I do not know 
 what it may be in the City, but at the West End there is nothing 
 that can give an idea of the noise of Paris ; the streets are all paved, 
 the omnibuses innumerable, and carts and carriages all of the heaviest 
 kind. If my money holds out, I shall buy several works and translate 
 them at home, but I doubt being able to accomplish it ; for though 
 I have bought nothing but what was indispensable, such as gloves, 
 shoes, paper, etc., I have little more left than will bring me home. 
 The dust here is something not to be told ; before you have walked 
 a hundred yards your feet are of a whitish brown. A great deal 
 of my time has hung heavily on my hands, I have been so languid 
 and so feverish ; still, I feel that I have quite a new stock of ideas, 
 and much material for future use. One ridiculous misfortune is 
 continually befalling me ; I am always falling down ; the parquet, 
 i.e. the floor, is so slippery, and I am never very steady on my 
 
 2 B 2
 
 372 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 feet. I really thought I had broken my arm yesterday. I am 
 very anxious about getting home. I like our new lodgings so 
 much. They are, according to Sir William Curtis's orthography, 
 three C's, namely, clean, cool, and quiet." 
 
 After all her many hints and allusions, she now 
 came to a formal proposal : 
 
 " This is quite a business letter, so I beg you will read it with 
 all due attention. I have read now a considerable portion of 
 French new works, and find a great many which, translated with 
 judgment, would, I think, sell. I underline judgment, for not a 
 little would be required. What I propose, is to make an annual, 
 consisting entirely of French translations prose and verse. I 
 could get it ready in about a month. To be called what 7 We 
 must think of a good title. ' The Laurel ; or, Leaves from French 
 Literature;' 'The Exchange; or, Selection of French Authors,' 
 with a little vignette on the title-page, of the Bourse, or 'The 
 Stranger,' etc. etc. 
 
 " I do not propose new prints ; anyone who knew how to set 
 about it might form here a collection of very pretty prints of all 
 sorts of popular subjects. You must please see if any publisher 
 will undertake this, and if they will, please write as soon as 
 possible. I feel convinced I could make a very amusing book ; 
 shortening, softening down, omitting, altering in my translations, 
 according to my own discretion. I could have my part of the 
 volume ready in about six weeks." 
 
 These extracts from her letters will be found sin- 
 gularly sprightly, especially the naive reference to 
 "business," as her money was going rapidly. 
 
 This interesting woman, as may be imagined, was 
 much sought for her own personal gifts "a great 
 warmth of feeling ; a peculiar charm of manner and 
 address ; an affectionate, loving nature ; a simplicity
 
 THE STOKY OF L. E. L. 373 
 
 of mind wholly free from affectation ; a guileless 
 character, childlike in many of its traits, devoid of 
 all suspicion of evil intentions and designs, and yet 
 not free from impulsive tendencies and some degree 
 of wilfulness, being her characteristics." 
 
 This confidence and she went much about by 
 herself made her likely to be the victim of would- 
 be sympathisers of an unsuitable sort ; and when it 
 is found that the well-known Grantley Berkeley, 
 Dr. Maginn, and other gentlemen of the kind were 
 interesting themselves in her and championing her 
 cause, it shows she was not over-prudent. She had 
 the tendency of all heroines to trust in everybody 
 she met. With this she had a painful, acute sensi- 
 tiveness, which made her feel and exaggerate slights 
 and injuries to an extravagant degree ; and this 
 had the unfortunate result of raising up hosts of 
 enemies, who harassed the unprotected creature for 
 years with anonymous attacks and rumours. "Her 
 peace of mind," says her friend Dr. Madden, " was 
 more than disturbed by those diabolical efforts to 
 annoy her it was destroyed by them ; and when 
 labouring under recent inflictions of outrages of this 
 sort, all her energies, bodily and mental, were dis- 
 ordered and impaired by them ; the first paroxysms 
 of suffering were usually followed by syncopes, 
 spasms, tremors, and convulsive attacks, approach- 
 ing to epileptic seizures. And when the violence
 
 374 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 of this nervous agitation would cease, then would 
 come intervals of the most profound dejection of 
 spirits." 
 
 It may be conceived that there were many suitors 
 for so interesting a prize ; but these enemies, by a 
 dreadful system of persecution, seemed always to 
 interpose, and succeeded in breaking off the engage- 
 ments. One of the most eminent sculptors of her 
 day was eager to make her his wife, but their cruel 
 interference broke off the match. 
 
 With this gaiety of nature before us which 
 seems almost childlike we turn to a letter written 
 by Lady Blessington, after her death, which outlines 
 L. E. L.'s tragic history, and serves as a curious 
 commentary on her life thus far : 
 
 " Poor dear L. E. L. lost her father, who was a captain in the 
 army, while she was yet a child. He had married the widow of 
 an army agent, a woman not of refined habits, and totally unsuited 
 to him. On his death, his brother, the late Dean of Exeter, in- 
 terested himself for his nephew and niece, the sole children left by 
 Captain Landon ; and deeming it necessary to remove them from 
 their mother, placed the girl (poor L. E. L.) at school; and the 
 boy at another. At an unusually early age she manifested the 
 genius for which she afterwards became so deservedly popular. 
 On leaving school her uncle placed her under the protection of her 
 grandmother, whose exigence rendered the life of her gifted grand- 
 child anything but a happy one. Her first poetical effusions were 
 published many years ago, and the whole of the sum they produced 
 was appropriated to her grandmother. 
 
 " Soon after, L. E. L. became acquainted with Mr. Jordan, 
 who, charmed with her talents, encouraged their exertion by 
 inserting her poems in a literary journal, with all the encomiums
 
 THE STORY OF L. E. L. 375 
 
 they merited. This notice drew the attention of publishers on 
 her, and, alas ! drew also the calumny and hatred of the envious, 
 which ceased not to persecute her through her troubled life ; but 
 absolutely drove her from her native land. There was no slander 
 too vile, and no assertion too wicked, to heap on the fame of this 
 injured creature. Mr. Jerdan was married, and the father of a large 
 family, many of whom were older than L. E. L. Those who dis- 
 believed the calumny refrained not from repeating it, until it became 
 a general topic of conversation. Her own sex, fearful of censure, had 
 not courage to defend her, and this highly gifted and sensitive 
 creature, without having committed a single error, found herself a 
 victim to slander. More than one advantageous proposal of 
 marriage was made to her ; but no sooner was this known, than 
 anonymous letters were sent to the persons who wished to wed her, 
 filled with charges against her honour. Some of her suitors, wholly 
 discrediting these calumnies, but thinking it due to her to refute 
 them, instigated inquiries to trace them to the original source 
 whence they came ; not a single proof could be had of even the 
 semblance of guilt, though a thousand were furnished of perfect 
 innocence. Wounded and humiliated, poor L. E. L. refused to 
 wed those who could, however worthy the motive, seem to doubt 
 her honour, or instigate inquiry into her conduct ; and from year 
 to year dragged on a life of mortification and sorrow. Pride led 
 her to conceal what she suffered, but those who best knew her were 
 aware that for many months sleep could only be obtained by the 
 aid of narcotics, and that violent spasms and frequent attacks of 
 the nerves left her seldom free from acute suffering. The effort to 
 force a gaiety she was far from feeling, increased her sufferings even 
 to the last. The first use she made of the money produced by her 
 writings was to buy an annuity for her grandmother ; that grand- 
 mother whose acerbity of temper and wearying exigence had em- 
 bittered her home. She then went to reside in Hans Place, with 
 some elderly ladies who kept a school, and here again calumny 
 assailed her. Dr. Maginn, a married man, and father of grown 
 daughters, was now named; though his habits, age, appearance, 
 and attachment to his wife ought to have precluded the possibility 
 of attaching credence to so absurd a piece of scandal, poor L. E. L. 
 was again attacked in a manner that nearly sent her to the grave.
 
 
 376 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 This last falsehood was invented a little more than four years ago, 
 when some of those who disbelieved the other scandal affected to 
 give credit to this, and stung the sensitive mind of poor L. E. L. 
 almost to madness by their hypocritical conduct." 
 
 Driven to despair almost by this persecution, and 
 panting for repose, an opportunity now presented 
 itself of release. A gentleman called Maclean, who 
 had an appointment at Cape Coast, was attracted 
 by her, and after some months proposed for her. 
 Lady Blessington relates the next portion of the 
 episode : 
 
 "Wrung to the quick by the slanders heaped on her, she 
 accepted his offer ; but he deemed it necessary to return to Cape 
 Coast Castle for a year, before the nuptials could be solemnized. 
 He returned at the expiration of that term, renewed his offer, and 
 she, poor dear soul ! informed all her friends and me amongst the 
 number of her acceptance of it, and of her intention of soon 
 leaving England with him ; soon after this Mr. Maclean went to 
 Scotland, and remained there many months without writing a 
 single line to his betrothed. Her feelings under this treatment 
 you can well imagine. Beset by inquiries by all her friends as to 
 where Mr. Maclean was 1 ? when she was to be married] etc., etc., 
 all indicating a strong suspicion that he had heard the reports, and 
 would appear no more, a serious illness assailed her, and reduced 
 her to the brink of the grave. When her friend wrote and 
 demanded an explanation from Mr. Maclean, he answered, that, 
 fearing the climate of Africa might prove fatal to her, he had 
 abandoned the intention of marrying, and felt embarrassed at 
 writing to say so. 
 
 " She, poor soul ! mistook his hesitation and silence for 
 generosity, and wrote to him a letter fraught with affection; 
 the ill-starred union was again proposed, but on condition that it 
 should be kept a secret, even from the friends she was residing 
 with. From the moment of his return from Scotland to that of
 
 THE STORY OF L. E. L. 377 
 
 their departure, he was moody, mysterious, and ill-humoured 
 continually sneering at literary ladies speaking slightingly of 
 her works and, in short, showing every symptom of a desire to 
 
 disgust her. Sir remonstrated with him on his extraordinary 
 
 mode of proceeding ; so did all her friends ; but the die was cast. 
 Her pride shrank from the notion of again having it said that 
 another marriage was broken off; and she determined not to break 
 with him. Mystery on mystery followed ; no friend or relative of 
 his though an uncle and aunt were in London sanctioned the 
 marriage ; nay, more, it is now known that two days previous to 
 it, he, on being questioned by his uncle, denied positively the fact 
 of his intention to be married. 
 
 " The marriage was a secret one, and not avowed until a very 
 few days previous to their sailing for Africa ; he refused to permit 
 her own maid, who had long served her, to accompany her, and it 
 was only at the eleventh hour that he could be induced to permit 
 a strange servant to be her attendant. His conduct on board ship 
 was cold and moody. This indifference continued at Cape Castle ; 
 and what was worse, discontent, ill-humour, and reproaches at her 
 ignorance of housekeeping met her every day, until her nerves 
 became so agitated that the sound of his voice made her tremble. 
 She was required to do the work of a menial ; her female servant was 
 discharged, and was to sail the day that the hapless L. E. L. died." 
 
 To one so bright, and fond of society and sym- 
 pathy, this expatriation must have been terrible. 
 On arriving at the gloomy Cape Coast Castle, of 
 which her husband was a sort of governor, she found 
 that she was the only lady in the colony. Mr. or 
 Captain Maclean assumed a severe mode of conduct, 
 not to say discipline, and, as the poor indiscreet lady 
 wrote home by way of complaint to her friends, he 
 had said "that he will never cease correcting me till 
 he has broken my spirit, and complains of my temper, 
 which you know was never, even under heavy trials,
 
 378 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 bad." Too much importance should not be attached 
 to such speeches. Her husband was in wretched 
 health, dyspeptic, with an affection of the liver, and 
 thus not likely to be what is called compatible. The 
 place itself, at that time, was a gloomy, wretched 
 one, containing only a few European traders, with 
 a number of half-castes. The Castle was a dismal 
 building, and the acting governor had no more than 
 500 a year. He delighted in mathematics, and was 
 fond of expressing his contempt for literary matters. 
 With such elements, things did not promise well. 
 Still, it was but a short probation. The marriage 
 took place on June 7, 1838, and by October 15 of 
 the same year, within four months, the gifted L. E. L. 
 had died by poison, accidentally taken. One Mr. 
 Cruickshank, a local merchant, has given a very 
 pleasing picture of the last days of this ill-fated lady. 
 He wrote, he said, " as one who enjoyed and 
 keenly felt the fascinations of her society, who only ten 
 hours before her death had sat and listened with a rapt 
 attention to her brilliant sallies of wit and feeling." 
 
 " I sent in my name by the servant, and immediately afterwards 
 Mrs. Maclean came to the hall and welcomed me. I was hurried 
 away to his bedroom, Mrs. Maclean saying, as she tripped through 
 the long gallery, " You are a privileged person, Mr. Cruickshank, 
 for I can assure you it is not everyone that is admitted here.' I 
 took a seat by the side of his bed, upon which Mrs. Maclean sat 
 down, arranging the clothes about her husband in the most affec- 
 tionate manner, and receiving ample compensation for her attention 
 by a very sweet and expressive smile of thankfulness.
 
 THE STORY OF L. E. L. 379 
 
 "As the day drew near for my departure, she occupied herself 
 more and more in writing to h^er friends in England. I agreed to 
 dine and spend the evening of the 15th with the Governor and his 
 lady, the day before the vessel sailed. At eleven o'clock I rose to 
 leave. It was a fine and clear night, and she strolled into the 
 gallery, where we walked for half-an-hour. Mr. Maclean joined us 
 for a few minutes, but not liking the night air, in his weak state, 
 he returned to the parlour. She was much struck with the beauty 
 of the heavens in those latitudes at night, and said it was when 
 looking at the moon and the stars that her thoughts oftenest 
 reverted to home. She pleased herself with thinking that the eyes 
 of some beloved friend might be turned in the same direction, and 
 that she had thus established a medium of communication for all 
 that her heart wished to express. ' But you must not,' she said, 
 ' think me a foolish moon-struck lady. I sometimes think of these 
 things oftener than I should, and your departure for England has 
 called up a world of delightful associations. You will tell 
 
 Mr. F , however, that I am not tired yet. He told me I 
 
 should return by the vessel that brought me out ; but I knew he 
 would be mistaken.' We joined the Governor in the parlour. I 
 bade them good night, promising to call in the morning, to bid 
 them adieu. I never saw her in life again." 
 
 The following was written on the morning of her 
 death, and quite disposes of all: 
 
 "MY DEAEEST MARIE, 
 
 "I cannot but write to you a brief account of 
 how I enact the part of a feminine Robinson Crusoe. 
 I must say in itself the place is infinitely superior to 
 all I ever dreamed of. The castle is a fine building, 
 the rooms excellent. I do not suffer from heat ; 
 insects there are few or none, and I am in excellent 
 health. The solitude, except an occasional dinner, is
 
 380 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR 
 
 absolute. From seven in the morning till seven, 
 when we dine, I never see Mr. Maclean, and rarely 
 anyone else. We even welcomed a series of dinners 
 which I am glad are over, for it is very awkward to 
 be the only lady ; still the great kindness with which 
 I am treated, the very pleasant manners of many of 
 the gentlemen, made me feel it as little as possible. 
 Last week we had a visit from Captain Castle 
 of the Pijlodes ; his story is very melancholy. We 
 had also a visit from Colonel Eosch, the Dutch 
 governor, a most gentleman-like man. But fancy 
 how awkward the next morning ! I cannot induce 
 Mr. Maclean to rise, and I have to make breakfast 
 and do the honours of adieu to him and his officers 
 white plumes, moustachios, and all. I think I 
 never felt more embarrassed. I haven't yet felt the 
 want of good society the least. I don't wish to form 
 new friends, and never does a day pass without my 
 thinking most affectionately of my old ones. On 
 three sides we are surrounded by the sea. I like the 
 perpetual dash on the rocks ; one wave comes up 
 after another, and is for ever dashed in pieces like 
 human hopes that can only swell up to be disappointed. 
 We advance : up springs the slimy froth of love or 
 hope, ' a moment white and gone for ever.' 
 
 " The servants are tolerable, but they take so many 
 to work. The prisoners do the scouring ; and fancy 
 three men cleaning a room that an old woman in
 
 THE STORY OF L. E. L. 381 
 
 England would do in an hour, besides a soldier, who 
 stands by, his bayonet drawn in his hand ! All my 
 troubles have been of a housekeeping kind ; and no 
 one could begin on a more plentiful stock of ignorance 
 than myself. Like Sindbad, the sailor, in his cavern, 
 I begin to see daylight. I have numbered and labelled 
 my keys their name is Legion and every morning I 
 take my way to the store, give out flour, sugar, butter, 
 etc., and am learning to scold if I see any dust and miss 
 the customary polish on the tables. I am actually 
 getting the steward of the ship to teach me how to 
 make pastry ; I will report progress in my next. We 
 live almost entirely on ducks and chickens ; if a sheep 
 be killed it must be eaten almost on the same day. 
 You cannot think of the complete seclusion in which 
 I live ; but I have a great reason in writing, and I 
 am well and happy, but I think even more than I 
 expected, if that be possible, of my English friends. 
 
 "Dearest, do not forget me. Pray write to me : 
 Mrs. George Maclean, Cape Coast Castle, care of, etc. 
 Write about yourself. Nothing else half so much 
 
 interests your affectionate 
 
 "L. E. MACLEAN." 
 
 Next day a hurried message came to Mr. Cruick- 
 shank to go to the castle. She was dead. He was 
 brought into a room where the doctor was trying to 
 see if life had not fled. "I seized her hand and
 
 382 KINGS AXD QUEENS OF AN HOUR. 
 
 gazed upon her face. The expression was calm and 
 meaningless. Her eyes were open, fixed." Poor 
 L. K L. ! 
 
 Her maid was, it seems, leaving for England by a 
 packet that was sailing that day. This had affected 
 and agitated her much, as the desolate creature felt 
 she would be left still more alone and helpless. The 
 maid had come to her door in the morning, but could 
 not open it. On doing so she found her mistress 
 dead on the floor, with a phial in her hand, containing 
 extract of prussic acid, which she foolishly used, as 
 nervous persons use choral now. There could be no 
 doubt from the evidence that she had accidentally 
 poisoned herself by an overdose, from the wish to 
 allay her agitation. But so vehemently did her 
 friends in England take up the case, that it was said 
 she had destroyed herself in despair at her treatment. 
 Nothing could be further from the truth. Mr. Maclean 
 was an uncongenial man, but he was in no way 
 concerned in this matter. 
 
 The night before her death she wrote some letters. 
 In one she says : " The castle is a very noble building, 
 and all the rooms large and cool, while some would be 
 pretty even in England." The room in which she is 
 writing "is painted a deep blue, with some splendid 
 engravings," "Mr. Maclean's library is fitted up 
 with book-cases of African mahogany, and portraits 
 of distinguished authors."
 
 THE STOKY OF L. E. L. 383 
 
 And she adds " But I, however, never approach 
 it without due preparation and humility, so crowded 
 is it with scientific instruments, telescopes, etc. etc., 
 none of which may be touched by hands profane." 
 
 " Mr. Maclean," wrote Lady Blessington, " admits that indis- 
 position and mental annoyance must have rendered him far from 
 being a kind or agreeable companion to poor Letitia; but adds, 
 that had she lived a little longer, she would have found him very 
 different, as he was when not ill and tormented by various cir- 
 cumstances, which he does not explain easy and good-tempered 
 to a fault. He says, that never was there so kind or so faultless a 
 being on earth as that poor, poor girl, as he calls her, and that he 
 never knew her value until he had lost her. In fact, his letter 
 seemed an answer to charges preferred against him by the departed; 
 and, what is strange, the packet that brought the fatal news, 
 
 brought no letter of recent date for her , though she never 
 
 missed an opportunity, and they occur rarely, of writing to him. 
 Her letters, all of which have breathed the fondest affection for 
 him, admit that she had little hope of happiness from her stern, 
 cold, and morose husband." 
 
 By a most extraordinary coincidence, Dr. Madden, 
 well known for his acquaintance with .Lady Hester 
 Stanhope, who was also second in the preliminaries of 
 a duel between the late Charles Mathews and Count 
 d'Orsay, a man of great knowledge, industry, and 
 literary gifts, as his friends know, was despatched on 
 a Government inquiry to Cape Coast. He had been 
 much interested, like all her friends, in poor L. E. L., 
 and determined to prosecute his inquiries on the spot ; 
 for the rancour of partisanship had gone so far as to 
 insinuate that her husband was responsible for her
 
 384 KINGS AND QUEENS OF AN HOUR 
 
 death in more direct fashion than mere harshness. 
 This visit was in 1841. Dr. Madden noted the 
 gloomy desolation of the castle the large courtyard 
 where L. E. L. was, oddly enough, buried, over whose 
 grave the soldiers were drilled, and in the wall of 
 which a memorial tablet was inserted shortly after his 
 arrival. He frankly told him that he would like to 
 inquire into the matter fully, and was met in the 
 same spirit. Dr. Madden was enabled to vindicate 
 him completely. However, the Commissioner was 
 not very bien vu by the natives, and being presently 
 seized with the fever of the place, conceived they had 
 attempted to poison him : on which he had himself 
 hurriedly removed from the castle. 
 
 Such was the strange story of the heroine L. E. L. 
 She was sung in verses by Landor and others : she 
 was held to be a victim : her memory is still cherished 
 by those who recall her. Captain Maclean died ten 
 years later, in 1848, and was interred in the courtyard 
 beside his wife. He was a poor man ; but had he 
 lived three months longer he would have inherited a 
 large fortune from Sir John Maclean, who bequeathed 
 it to him. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 CHAEL1S DICKIJTS iWD BVAJT8, CBYSTAL PALACE PBESS.
 
 UC Southern Regnnal Ubcarv c c*ti 
 
 DATE Dl 
 
 PRINTED INU S .