By Nelson’s orders the “Mutine” sailed in a few days to meet him with despatches, and on the 14th of September joined the division off Stromboli.  With more important information, and letters from persons of greater consequence, she had brought also one from Lady Hamilton, giving a vivid picture of the general joy, and in particular an account of the Queen’s state of mind, so highly colored and detailed that Nelson could only hope he might not be witness to a renewal of it, but which so impressed him that he quoted it at length to Lady Nelson.  When the “Vanguard” approached the town, crowds of boats went out to meet her, and His Sicilian Majesty himself came on board when she was still a league from the anchorage.  He had been preceded by the British ambassador with Lady Hamilton.  The latter, having had only three weeks to recover from the first shock of the news, was greatly overcome, and dropped her lovely face and by no means slender figure into the arms of the admiral, who, on his part, could scarcely fail to be struck with the pose of one whose attitudes compelled the admiration of the most exacting critics.  “The scene in the boat was terribly affecting,” he wrote to his wife.  “Up flew her ladyship, and exclaiming, ‘O God, is it possible?’ she fell into my arm more dead than alive.  Tears, however, soon set matters to rights.”

This was the beginning of an intimacy destined, in the end, to affect profoundly and unhappily the future of Nelson.  Although Sir William Hamilton, in his own congratulatory letter by the “Mutine,” called him “our bosom friend,” they do not seem to have met since the summer of 1793, when the young captain carried Hood’s despatches from Toulon to Naples; and Nelson, while acknowledging on the present occasion the kindness of an invitation to take up his quarters at the embassy, had expressed a preference for rooms at a hotel, on account of the business to be transacted.  This reluctance, however, was easily and properly overruled, and immediately after anchoring he went to live at the ambassador’s house, which, under the management of the celebrated woman who presided there, became the social centre of the welcomes lavished not only upon himself, but upon all the officers of the ships.

Emma, Lady Hamilton, the second wife of Sir William, was at this time thirty-three years old, her husband being sixty-eight.  Her name, when first entering the world, was Amy Lyon.  Born in Cheshire of extremely poor parents, in the humblest walk of life, she had found her way up to London, while yet little more than a child, and there, having a beautiful face, much natural charm of manner and disposition, utterly inexperienced, and with scarcely any moral standards,—­of which her life throughout shows but little trace,—­she was speedily ruined, fell so far, in fact, that even with all her attractions it seemed doubtful whether any man would own himself responsible for her condition, or befriend her.  In these circumstances, when