England's Mistress_ The Infamous Life of Emma Hamilton - Kate Williams [143]
Emma was beginning to feel the strain of keeping up appearances. At a dinner she was seized with nausea and vomited repeatedly in a basin in front of Fanny. It was looking increasingly unlikely that she would be received at court, as Queen Charlotte showed no signs of relenting in the face of media pressure. Nelson had not improved his popularity with the royals by his predilection for converting “God Save the King” into a hymn to his own victories. They could not refuse to see him, but they could snub Emma. In an effort to cheer her up, Nelson accepted an invitation to spend Christmas with Sir William's friend and relation, William Beckford, at his crazy Gothic-style mansion, Fonthill Abbey. Rumors abounded about Fonthill, and only Britain's chosen few stepped inside its luxurious doors. Leaving Fanny alone in London, with only her pompous brother-in-law William and his wife for company, Emma, Nelson, and Sir William set off for an eccentric winter break. Beckford promised that Nelson and Emma could stay free from “the sight and prattle of drawing room Parasites,” but it was impossible to escape the reporters.3 The public was always hungry to read every slavering detail about Nelson and Emma—where they stayed, who they met, and what they wore, ate, and drank.
Local volunteers in army dress playing “Rule Britannia” welcomed the visitors from London. Friends from Naples also attended: the soprano Brigida Banti, Emma's old duet partner, French émigrés, and other nobles and dignitaries. The Gentleman's Magazine reported the entertainment in luxurious detail to readers across England. After a tour of the flamboyant house led by hooded servants carrying torches, the guests were ushered to Beckford's sumptuous purple-draped reception rooms. Sitting nervously on priceless ivory chairs around ebony tables, they enjoyed an exquisite dinner served from huge silver dishes, expensive wines, and "confectionery served in gold baskets," under glittering gold lights. At eleven at night, when everybody's attention was heightened,
Lady Hamilton appeared in the character of Agrippina, bearing the ashes of Germanicus in a golden urn, as she presented them before the Roman people…. Lady Hamilton displayed with truth and energy every gesture, attitude, and expression of countenance which could be conceived in Agrippina herself, best calculated to have moved the passions of the Romans on behalf of their favourite General. The action of her head, of her hands, and arms in the various positions of the urn; in her manner of presenting it before the Romans, or of holding it up to the Gods in the act of supplication, was most classically graceful. Every change of dress, principally of the head, to suit the different situations in which she successively presented herself, was performed instantaneously with the most perfect ease, and, without returning or scarcely turning aside a moment from the spectators.
Half drunk, satiated with sweetmeats and dazzled by Beckford's elaborate decor, Nelson fell in love with Emma all over again. The delighted company wept at her "pathetically addressed" speech as Agrippina. Heavily pregnant, Emma emphasized her condition by playing maternal roles instead of more provocative nymphs. The journalist compared the experience of watching her to "magic" and decided, "I can scarcely help doubting whether the whole of the last evening's entertainment were a reality or only the visionary coinage of fancy."4 Behind her back, Beckford joked she was "Lord Nelson's Lady Hamilton or anybody else's Lady Hamilton," but to her face, he eulogized "that light alone