England's Mistress_ The Infamous Life of Emma Hamilton - Kate Williams [114]
When the news of the Battle of the Nile was confirmed on October 2, England went wild. Their Nelson had won the most cataclysmic victory of the Napoleonic Wars so far. He became Baron Nelson of the Nile and of Burnham Thorpe in Norfolk, his home town. Every newspaper praised him, and even scabrous James Gillray produced congratulatory caricatures. The fashion for Nelson merchandise that began after his victory at Cape St. Vincent became a craze, an unprecedented hysteria for one man that has never been equaled. Shop windows exploded with Nelson memorabilia. Manufacturers put his face and figure on any possible item and worked overtime to satisfy demand. Within a month or so of the Nile victory, virtually every house owned an image of Nelson, whether on paper, porcelain, cloth, silk, wood, or stone. As well as busts, bronzes, and portraits, there were Nelson tea sets, dinner sets, and home accessories such as doorknob handles, flowerpots, and vases, along with less delicate ware, cheap jugs, mugs in Pratt ware, and pewter plates. Ladies embroidered tapestries of England's hero, and others bought Nelson jigsaws. When they were not buying Nelsonia, they treated themselves to Egyptian-themed homeware and fashions. Wedgwood even produced a blancmange mold that made a pudding topped with an Egyptian symbol. In England's most exquisite drawing rooms, ladies wore crocodile ornaments and seated themselves on a sofa shaped like a sphinx, while mummies decorated the walls. One satirist ridiculed the "Dresses a la Nile," showing a gentleman resplendent in a crocodile coat and boots like webbed feet conversing with a woman festooned in feathers, both blazoning “Nelson and Victory” on their ludicrous headdresses.
Nelson was suddenly a heartthrob. Fashionable ladies hurried to dress themselves “alla Nelson” in Nelson-themed shawls, hair ribbons, rings, brooches, earrings, charms, scarves, bags, necklaces, pendants, hats, and petticoats. They wore gold anchors that celebrated their hero, who “relieves the World at the Mouth of the Nile.” Particularly sought after was the Nelson riding habit, a blue jacket with gold buttons, a near exact copy of his uniform.4 His face was featured on thousands of enamel boxes used to store beauty patches, as well as on other intimate objects, such as jewelry and pomade boxes. Patriotic ladies turned up at social functions festooned with Nelson jewelry and knickknacks. They snapped up fans commemorating him that also bore lists of the English and French fleets and details of new dances, including “Sprigs of Laurel for Lord Nelson.”
England wanted Fanny to be the high priestess of the new Nelson cult, but she refused. The new Lady Nelson refused to wear fashions after her husband, crocodile earrings, or Vanguard buttons, and she had no intention of ornamenting her home with life-size mummies. Accosted by fans when she was shopping and besieged by dignitaries wishing to praise her husband, Fanny struggled with the social demands made upon her. She dreaded being caricatured, and she was horrified to find that her name was being used to dub a quickstep “Lady Nelson's Fancy.” Nelson was deeply disappointed by her efforts to ignore the avalanche of tacky goods in his honor and to fan worship. He wanted her to cultivate his fame while he was away, cover her house and herself in tributes to him, and report back on the eulogies in the papers.