THE REAL LADY. HAMILTON.
[To THE EDITOR OF THE SPRCTATOR.1 SIN,—In the review of my novel, " Andrew Goodfellow," which appears in the Spectator for December 29th, 1906, the follow. ing remark occurs :- "It is a surprise to people who are familiar with the Romney portraits of Lady Hamilton to find Mrs. Watson speaking of her
as 'a stout, dark lady, in an absurdly short waist, showily dressed, with brilliant dark eyes and a fine complexion.' Surely those wonderful auburn locks never deserved the adjective dark,' any more than her blue eyes."
Your reviewer adds that "the apparition of Lady Hamilton only, however, occupies half-a-page, and is of no importance to the story." This is true ; but since in his notice he has singled out this description for particular comment, you will perhaps, in justice to the author, allow me to defend my position. My description was not the result of any slipshod carelessness over facts, but was so written in all sincerity, and in spite of the fact that a copy of Romney's most celebrated portrait was before my eyes at the time of writing. I venture to think that your critic is confusing the "divine lady" of Romney's vision with the Lady Hamilton of some nineteen or twenty years later. Take, for example, this description of her (quoted in Mahan's Life of Nelson) as she appeared in 1800 to Mrs. George, the lady who afterwards became Mrs. Trench Her bones are large, and she is exceedingly embonpoint her eyes light blue, with a brown spot in one her eyebrows and hair are desk [the italics are mine] and her complexion coarse Her dress is frightful, the waist absolutely between the shoulders." It must be remembered that Andrew Goodfellow, looking up at her as she sat in her box at Drury Lane, could not have been sufficiently near to see the colour of her eyes. To him those eyes, bright and sparkling with intelligence and wit, with their black brows, would have appeared dark rather than light (or so it seemed to me), and the auburn locks of youth might well by this time, for she was now in her forty-third year, have changed, with her complexion, to the darker, though possibly more brilliant, aspect of middle-age.—I am, Sir, &c., THE AUTHOR OF "ANDREW GOODFELLOW."
Previous page
