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As I sat, years ago, in the Admiral’s cabin of Nelson’s flag-ship, the Foudroyant, the thought of this romance came to me, for this ship was the sea-shrine of that great but errant passion. She is a wreck now, her stranded ribs are green with weed, her bones are broken in the wash of the tide. A grave at sea amidst the answering thunder and flash of guns would have been a nobler ending.
But the story, with all its love, cruelty and heroism, remains alike beyond oblivion, condemnation or pardon. It is. It has its niche beside the other great passions which have moulded the world’s history. For if Nelson knew himself when he declared that Emma was part and parcel of the fire breaking out of him, without her inspiration Trafalgar might not have been.
THE DIVINE LADY
A Romance of Nelson and Emma Hamilton
BY
E. BARRINGTON
AUTHOR OF “THE LADIES” AND “THE CHASTE DIANA”
NEW YORK
DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY
1924
Copyright
, 1924
By DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, Inc.
Published, June, 1924
Second Printing, June, 1924
Third Printing, July, 1924
Fourth Printing, July, 1924
Fifth Printing, August, 1924
Sixth Printing, August, 1924
Seventh Printing, September, 1924
Eighth Printing, October, 1924
Ninth Printing, November, 1924
Tenth Printing, December, 1924
Eleventh Printing, January, 1925
Twelfth Printing, February, 1925
PRINTED IN THE U. S. A. BY
The Quinn & Boden Company
BOOK MANUFACTURERS
RAHWAY
NEW JERSEY
PREFACE
As I sat, years ago, in the Admiral’s cabin of Nelson’s flag-ship, the
Foudroyant
, the thought of this romance came to me, for this ship was the sea-shrine of that great but errant passion. She is a wreck now, her stranded ribs are green with weed, her bones are broken in the wash of the tide. A grave at sea amidst the answering thunder and flash of guns would have been a nobler ending.
But the story, with all its love, cruelty and heroism, remains alike beyond oblivion, condemnation or pardon. It is. It has its niche beside the other great passions which have moulded the world’s history. For if Nelson knew himself when he declared that Emma was part and parcel of the fire breaking out of him, without her inspiration Trafalgar might not have been.
I have treated it imaginatively, yet have not, as I think, departed from the essential truth which I have sought in many famous biographies such as Mahan’s, Sichel’s, Laughton’s and others.
Yet the best biographies of Emma are the lovely portraits Romney left of his Divine Lady, and of Nelson the best is the sea-cathedral, the
Victory
, at rest in the last home port he sailed from to his splendid doom. From these all the rest of the story might well be reconstructed.
E. Barrington
Canada
PART I
THE NILE As Admiral Sir Horatio Nelson sailed for Syracuse, many thoughts kept him company in striding up and down his quarterdeck. He loved his wife with a calm affection which recognized to the ful…
THE GARDEN OF ARMIDA In those days every interest of Naples centred on the sea and the news it might bring. The French were still occupying the republic they had made of Rome and Roman territory and …
THE MERIDIAN It appeared to Nelson in the anxious days coming on that Heaven itself had sent him the destined helper in his war against French domination. Two things were clear as noonday to the perc…
CIRCE There comes a moment in the fully unfolded maturity of beauty when any change must be for the worse. There is a portrait of Emma about the time of the flight to Palermo which exemplifies this i…
DESCENT That journey home, in spite of all the splendours which his own and Emma’s renown and the Queen’s company occasioned, was a nightmare to Nelson. He was utterly besotted on her; he could neith…
FANNY It was a still Sunday afternoon with a November mist clinging like a cold breath to London, daylight still but the lights showing little starry points in the streets below when Fanny and his ol…
PARTING There is a most absolute and splendid justice in the remorseless sequence of cause and effect, and those who play at dice with angry gods cannot win. Nelson had cause to know that truth in th…
SUNSET The Immortals, the lesser gods, watch their prey at leisure and, one would say, with ironic amusement. The angels may weep but it is certain they laugh. Emma’s plans were nearing fruition, and…
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