
Emma Hart as Circe by George Romney, c. 1781
About a year ago, I read Amanda Elyot’s Too Great A Lady: The Notorious, Glorious Life of Emma, Lady Hamilton. I found that Emma’s story, her rise from poverty to fame, really illustrated for me the importance of rank and position among the British aristocratic and royal circles in 18th century England. It was nearly impossible for a “nobody” to penetrate the ranks of society. Quite a difference from modern times — when it is now acceptable for Prince William of Wales to pursue a serious relationship with an outsider to the royal court: the lovely Kate Middleton, who is a fashionable accessories buyer for British retailer, Jigsaw. But even this is a relatively newly accepted trend. As recently as the 1930s, Edward VIII actually abdicated his throne to his brother, Albert (who later took the regal name George VI and was the father of Queen Elizabeth II), because of the controversy stirred up by his relationship with the American Wallis Simpson, a divorcee whom he had intended to marry and take as his queen. The staunchly conservative Parliament of the time strongly disapproved, and, rather than give up his love, he gave up his throne.
Even though Emma became wife to the respected Ambassador to Naples, Sir William Hamilton, Emma could never quite remove the stain of her sordid past from her reputation. She was barred from an official introduction at St. James Court, and King George III highly disapproved of her wonton ways. Although she was very good friends with Queen Maria Theresa of Naples (sister to Queen Marie Antoinette of France), she was always treated like an outsider by most of London society’s elite.

Emma Hamilton as a Bacchante by Elisabeth Vigee Lebrun, c. 1790
“What made society shun so beautiful a lady as Emma Hamilton?” one might ask. Emma began working as a maid in the small village of Hawarden at the age of twelve. She moved to London, where she met a fellow maid named Jane Powell, working for a family in Blackfriars. Emma began accompanying Jane to her theater rehearsals, where she had her first taste of the stage. The terrible-twosome was soon fired from their jobs as maids, due to their objectionable nightly digressions into the city’s bawdy pubs and lewd nightlife. Emma found more work as a maid in London, but she soon began working a side job as a prostitute on Drury Lane. In time she moved “up,” in her profession, working in a brothel as a strip-tease dancer. Emma gained more experience performing and mastered the seductive act of “putting on a show”.
English artists, taken by Emma’s beauty, began using her as a model for their paintings. She eventually posed for such greats as Joshua Reynolds, George Romney, and Elisabeth Vigee Lebrun. Emma began using stage names to separate herself from her shady past. But that did not stop Emma from continuing her bawdy ways, bouncing from one tavern/brothel-like establishment to another, performing her risqué postures wearing little clothing and presumably selling her body as a courtesan at the same time. Sir Harry Featherstonhaugh hired Emma as an escort, paying her to entertain him and his friends at his Uppark estate in West Sussex. She became his mistress, but soon tired of his drunken outbursts and bachelor lifestyle. She fell for one of Sir Harry’s companions, the Honourable Francis Greville, but eventually found herself pregnant with Sir Harry’s child. Sir Harry shunned Emma after hearing the news, and Emma went to live with Greville as his mistress instead. After Emma gave birth, the baby was given to a family who allowed Emma to visit the child often. Once more, Emma took to using her stage name “Emma Hart,” to spare Greville the embarrassment of her sullied reputation. Greville soon found himself smitten with his new mistress and commissioned Romney to paint her. Romney became intrigued with the young model and began composing various works of art using her as his muse. She was able to make use of her knack for acting, this time taking inspiration from the classics and posing for Romney as Circe, Ariadne, and various other figures from Greek and Roman mythology.

Lady Hamilton as Ariadne by Elisabeth Vigee Lebrun, c. 1790
Eventually, Greville determined that he needed to marry a wealthy woman in order to maintain his lavish lifestyle, and he sent Emma to live with his rich elderly uncle, the British Envoy to Naples, Sir William Hamilton. Sir William agreed to take Emma as a deal with his nephew, realizing that it would be beneficial to his own finances for Greville to take a wealthy wife rather than rely on Sir William’s income to supplement his dwindling bank account. Sir William agreed to pay off Greville’s debts in exchange for the lovely Emma. The two men left Emma out of the loop in this scheme, and Emma arrived at Sir William’s estate in Naples under the pretense that she was to vacation there while Greville was away on business. Little did she know, she had been traded like cattle, and she would be expected to assume the role of Sir William’s mistress.
Sir William had Emma educated, and she became a more refined version of her former self. Drawing from her years as a performer and her experiences in classical posing as a model for Romney, she began entertaining Sir William’s European friends and guests with a sort of 18th century version of charades. In what eventually became known as her “Attitudes,” Emma would mime scenes from classical mythology through a series of poses, combining her acting abilities with her experience in portraiture modeling. She also took inspiration from the scenes portrayed in Sir William’s treasured collection of painted antique vases. Emma had special Grecian-inspired costumes designed for her performances, in which guests would try and deduce which character from history Emma was portraying. The European elite became delighted with these “Attitudes,” and Sir William’s Naples estate soon became a fashionable place for parties and entertainments. Sir William came to love Emma dearly, and on September 6th, 1791, he married her in London, making her Emma, Lady Hamilton.

While in Naples, Emma began a passionate love affair with the celebrated Admiral Nelson, hero of the Battle of the Nile against Napoleon and the French. Because Sir William enjoyed Nelson’s company so much, he hardly could blame Emma for her discretion. By this time, he was an aging old man, and while he and his wife had spent many good years faithful to one another, Sir William became resigned to the couple’s affair and came to actually admire Nelson. The three of them entered into a ménage a trois of sorts, with Sir William quietly turning a blind eye to the young couples’ ongoing and widely known-of affair. Together, under the guidance of the Admiral, they helped the Neopolitan Royal Family escape from Naples when the French invaded and took over.
The trio moved back to London and began living together, prompting the British Admiralty, which opposed Nelson’s controversial relationship with Emma, to send Nelson back to war against the French. Emma soon gave birth to Nelson’s daughter, and named her Horatia. Sir William allowed Emma to keep the child, and raise her in their shared household with Nelson. The media became fascinated with their behavior, reporting on the threesome and often creating caricatures at their expense. Sir William died in 1803, and Emma continued building she and Nelson’s home, Merton Place, spending lavish amounts of money hosting parties there and furnishing the residence.
Nelson died at sea in 1805 after being shot during the Battle of Trafalgar, and Emma soon fell into rampant debt. Although Nelson had been regarded as a national hero and given a Dukedom by the King of Naples, and a Viscounty by his own King, the British Crown denied him his last will that Emma and Horatia be properly taken care of. Emma was allowed to keep Merton Place, but the rest of his remaining finances went to his legitimate family. She was not even allowed to attend Nelson’s funeral, as if barring her from the event would block the image of their ever having been together from the public’s mind. Emma was forced to live in debtor’s prison with Horatia, a far cry from the life to which she had once become accustomed. Upon her release from jail, she fled to France to escape her remaining creditors. Sadly, Emma became depressed and fell into alcoholism, dying of liver failure in 1815.
Though she was born and died in poverty, Emma lived a rich and colorful life. Emma’s close relationship with the Queen of Naples helped her husband and the English crown immensely in maintaining a positive relationship with Naples, during a time when political alliances were so important because of the Napoleonic Wars and Napoleon’s quest to rule the world. King George III never thanked or repaid Emma for her work as de facto ambassadress.

Emma’s “Attitudes,” were very salacious for the time, and her performances set the bar for later day modern dancers such as Isadora Duncan, who danced in light weight, draped, flowing materials styled after Grecian garb. Duncan, like Lady Hamilton, was known for pioneering the art of unrestrained emotion expressed through mythological-inspired movements, in Duncan’s case, modern dance. She danced barefoot and with her hair loose, her free-form dance technique juxtaposing the disciplined, more rigid form of classical ballet. Isadora was also rebellious in nature and laughed in the face of the haughty social elite, carrying on scandalous love affairs, bearing children out of wedlock, and living a provocative lifestyle as a celebrated bohemian icon and free-thinking feminist.
Along with setting the footwork for future feminists and performing artists, Lady Emma Hamilton’s exquisiteness will be forever ingrained in our minds, as it is impossible for one to look upon Romney’s portraits of her and not marvel at her incredible beauty. She was a woman who defied her station in life and excelled to greatness in the arts and as a controversial woman who followed her heart and scoffed at those who would instruct her to do otherwise.

Photo Sources: The National Portrait Gallery, Wikipedia 1, Wikipedia 2
ABC Gallery, Encyclopedia Britannica, Dancewriting.org



Thanks for the re-cap
. She must have had something spectacularly special about her to have inspired so many artists (and so much turmoil). Such a fascinating character.
Allie I really love your blog. Your piece about your grandfather was deeply moving, and I will be reading some of your picks!What you are doing is fantastic.
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