In the late 18th century, English gentlemen were expected to embark on the Grand Tour of Europe, particularly to Italy. It was a phenomenon of the period that saw its beginning in the late 16th century and subsequently it became fashionable for aristocrats, poets, novelists, painters and adventurers. They would normally travel in a kindred group in pursuit of knowledge of art, architecture, classical antiquity and the flowering of the Renaissance.

Of special interest to the Maltese islands is the detailed travelogue exhibited at the prestigious Hermitage Museum in St Petersburg, to commemorate its 250 anniversary, enhanced with the loan of a sculpture from the unique Elgin Marbles at the British Museum. I am referring to the work of Jean Houel, Voyage pittoresque des isles de Sicile, de Malte et de Lipari, relating to his visits to these islands in 1770 and 1777. Between 1782 and 1788 he published four detailed volumes for his Parisian publishers that vividly portray life in Malta and Gozo at that time, including paintings with intimate accuracy of archaeological sites, varied landscapes, traditional customs and costumes, making full use of his vast travel experience.

Title page of Jean Houel’s Voyage Pittoresque, volume IV (1787).

Undoubtedly Houel’s travelogue made a great impression in the cultural corridors of Europe, and Malta was more frequently included in the itinerary of the Grand Tour. After the expulsion of the Knights, who had vast possessions all over Europe, visitors from the mainland decreased considerably; however this was compensated by a substantial increase of visitors from Britain.

In the early British period spanning the first decade of the 19th century, Malta became a magnet and a secure haven for British expatriates as they were offered lucrative posts in the civil service. They opened several schools of English while British merchants realised the great trade potential of Malta, situated in the middle of the Mediterranean.

There were other attractions, not least the favourable climate, the archaeological ruins and the Knights’ rich cultural and artistic legacy. The British intelligentsia immediately grasped this opportunity and the poets Lord Byron and Samuel Taylor Coleridge, statesmen like Benjamin Disraeli and the novelist Sir Walter Scott were among the early visitors, closely followed by John Hookham Frere, Gabriele Rossetti and many others. Strangely enough, a major attraction for visitors at that time was St Paul’s Grotto in Rabat where its fragmentary rock structure was reputed to have miraculous powers.

Houel’s travelogue made a great impression in the cultural corridors of Europe, and Malta was more frequently included in the itinerary of the Grand Tour

Thomas Freller, in his scholarly book St Paul’s Grotto and its Visitors, mentions the flattering remarks of many British travellers. Among these we find W. Birch, who in 1810 published in Journal of a Voyage up to the Mediterranean (Poulton 1818). He stated that after a tour of Mdina he visited the church of St Paul, which he describes as “very extensive… elegant and greatly decorated with sculpture, paintings and mosaic”. He was particularly impressed by the painting on the main altar representing The Shipwreck of St Paul, painted by Stefano Erardi in 1681. His visit to the grotto was inspired more by its sublime and aesthetic features than by any religious inspiration.

Horatio Nelson by John Francis Regaud, commissioned by Captain William Locker. This oil painting was started in early 1777 before Nelson left for the West Indies as second lieutenant on HMS Louvestoff and was completed when he returned as a captain.

The historical and religious attractions of the Maltese islands, particularly the ancient prehistoric ruins so magnificently portrayed by Houel’s Voyage, reached the lucrative Neapolitan court where British ambassador Lord William Hamilton had achieved prominence as an expert in volcanology and an aristocrat with very fine taste. Little did he perceive that his visit to the island much later would confirm his wife Lady Emma’s illicit amorous flirtations with Lord Nelson that would render him a pitiful figure in the diplomatic corridors of Europe.

In September 1791, Sir William Hamilton, then aged 61, an avid connoisseur of the arts, then British ambassador to the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies based in Naples, which at that time was the third most important city in Europe, married Lady Emma, aged 26. In spite of her very humble birth she endeared herself to Neapolitan society by her charm, grace and musical talent, becoming Queen Maria Carolina’s closest friend.

Lady Emma’s influence in the court of Naples assumed enormous power since the young and immature King Ferdinand was more interested in hunting and other pursuits; as a result he left the affairs of state to his wife. As Sir William had inherited a great fortune from his first wife, Lady Emma was able to entertain on a grand scale as befitted the wife of a royal personage appointed by King George III.

In February 1793, France declared war against Britain, and Horatio Nelson, then aged 35, sailed to Naples on his ship HMS Agamemmon in September to urge King Ferdinand to declare war against Napoleon, and with the full support of Lord Hamilton and Lady Emma, King Ferdinand acceded to Nelson’s request. In August 1798, Nelson returned to Naples after his superb victory at the Battle of the Nile to a hero’s welcome.

He was immediately idolised by Lady Emma, and a deep romantic relationship ensued that brought ridicule and bitter sarcasm on Lord Hamilton who tacitly condoned this ménage à trois. There are few headier tales than that of the ‘Three joined in one’ as the lovers and husband were spitefully named, this being the motto of Hamilton’s treasured Order of the Bath. There is little doubt that Lord Nelson’s and Lady Emma’s irreverent behaviour made Lord Hamilton a ridiculous figure who fully deserved to be later dismissed from Naples.

In January 1799, as the French army was closing in on Naples, the Neapolitan court fled to Palermo under the protection of Lord Nelson, accompanied by Hamilton and his charming second wife Lady Emma. At that crucial moment, the Malta blockade had stopped grain supplies to Malta, and by 1799 the situation was untenable, and according to Moira Bishop, in her interesting feature in Treasures of Malta, Vol X, No 2, Emma came to the rescue, and a shipment of grain was sent certainly through Emma’s influence with Queen Maria Carolina.

Lady Emma by Johann Heinrick Schmidt (1749-1828).

In recognition of her intervention, Czar Paul of Russia, who had assumed the grand mastership of the Order of St John on their capitulalation in 1798, awarded Lady Emma the petite croix de devotion de l’Ordre, a prestigious honour that she proudly displayed in her portrait by Johann Heinrick Schmidt (1749-1828) in Dresden in 1800. This portrait and the citation are exhibited at the National Museum in Greenwich and the Royal Navy Museum in Portsmouth respectively.

As Sicilian support for Malta began to wane, on February 7, 1799, L’Assemblea Nazzionale Maltese sent a delegation to Palermo consisting of Baron Gaetano Sant Fournier, Dr Luigi Agius and the Abbe Ludovico Savoye to ask for King Ferdinand’s permission to allow them to seek the protection of the British and to hoist the British flag on the battlements. Lord Nelson and Sir William succeeded in convincing the King of Naples to agree to the Maltese request; however, Lord Nelson instructed Alexander Ball, the Civil Commissioner in Malta, that “whenever the British colours are hoisted, the Sicilian colours must be hoisted”.

In January 1800, Lord Nelson sailed to Malta on HMS Foudroyant, with Sir William and Lady Emma in tow, in the pious hope that the French garrison in Malta would surrender and he would sign the capitulation. To ensure the safety of his honoured guests the Foudroyant berthed at Marsaxlokk.

Lord Nelson and Lady Emma openly continued in their amorous pursuits as Lord Hamilton, a renowned antiquarian and historian, explored the rich archaeological remains of the Maltese islands

An argument with Lord Keith, commander-in-chief Mediterranean Fleet ensued. Keith was so enraged that Lord Nelson had ignored his orders that he sarcastically blared: “Lady Emma will soon have to relinquish her command of the fleet.” In the meantime, Lord Nelson and Lady Emma openly continued in their amorous pursuits as Lord Hamilton, a renowned antiquarian and historian, explored the rich archaeological remains of the Maltese islands.

Lord Nelson and Lady Emma also included a visit to St Paul’s Grotto in their itinerary, as shown in a document held at Wignacourt Museum in Rabat referring to Lord Nelson’s visit to St Paul’ Grotto. According to the diarist, Miss Knight, quoted by Bishop, the group “occassionally dining with Governor Captain Sir Alexander Ball and sometimes at the quarters of General Graham”.

Rear Admiral Sir Horatio Nelson, a painting by Lemuel Francis Abbott commissioned in 1799 by John McArthur, who deplored Abbott’s efforts to idolise the picture by softening Nelson’s features.

Paul Cassar, best known for his seminal book on the medical history of Malta, in a feature on The Sunday Times of Malta of December 6, 1998, gives an interesting account of how a piano or organ from the Mdina Cathedral was moved to the Palace in Valletta for Lady Emma who was an accomplished pianist. Later in Dresden, on her long journey to England, she gave a musical recital accompanied on the piano by the great German composer Haydn.

It has recently been revealed by historian and antiquarian Nicholas de Piro that a previously unpublished letter by Lord Nelson has surfaced in Cheltenham. The letter, addressed to Captain (later Sir) Alexander Ball, was sent from Gozo on May 22, 1800, where Lord Nelson, Lady Emma and Lord Hamilton were spending a few days touring the island. In the letter, Lord Nelson shows his admiration for Ball for his outstanding personality that earned the respect of the insurgents. Lady Emma was now Lord Nelson’s acknowledged mistress; her daughter Horatia is said to have been conceived during their Malta sojourn.

The following is an extract from Lord Nelson’s letter to Ball: “May God bless you my dear Ball in which real wish join our good Sir William and Lady Hamilton.” This strange sexual arrangement was now confirmed and blossoming.

In his erudite and scintillating biography of Lord Hamilton, entitled Fields of Fire: A Life of Sir William Hamilton, David Constantine’s last image of this tortured aristocrat is “as a man of unusual charm, lean, brown skinned and predatory with a face which according to one observer, which powerfully attracted and conciliated any beholder”. Constantine reveals that Hamilton was a remarkable man “musical, disciplined, obsessive, almost crazily courageous and admirably self-sufficient”.

He adds Lord Hamilton’s excellent record of 11 years of soldiering when the horrors he saw taught him the uncommon stoicism he showed in his arduous personal life, as well as his avid interest as an intrepid volcanologist and his fine tastes. Undoubtedly, Lord Hamilton represented much that was best about the British 18th century aristocrat. On the other hand his many detractors dismiss his fondness for his second wife Emma as “senile devotion”, justified only by the fact that “he had entered a stage approaching dotage”.

In this biography, Lord Nelson emerges as shamefully arrogant, obsessively conceited and uncouth; and it is Lord Nelson, not Lord Hamilton who seems the drabber figure in this long saga. It is extraordinary that Lord Hamilton was willing to be scorned and ridicul­ed, the butt of every cartoonist while he trailed Lady Emma and Lord Nelson around Europe.