fire in the cabin; and, I hope my complaint will go off.
May Heaven bless you!
I send this, through Troubridge, direct in Piccadilly.
I shall, you may rely, admire the pig-stye, ducks, fowls, &c. for
every thing you do, I look upon as perfect.
Dr. Baird has been aboard, to see me. He thinks, I shall be better;
and, that a few days on shore will set me up again.
Make my kind remembrances to Sir William, the Duke, and all friends;
and believe me, ever, your most affectionate
NELSON & BRONTE.
Bedford has made me laugh. Mrs. Lutwidge has been babbling, that she
will go to Portsmouth with the Admiral; who says, he shall be so fully
employed that he cannot be much with her. She whispered Bedford--"I
have many friends in the army there!"
She will certainly marry a soldier, if ever she is disposable. But,
perhaps, you will agree with me, that no good soldier would take her.
I am sure, the purchase would be dear, even if it was a _gift_. Don't
call this a bull.
Sutton's man was on the farm; and the sheep, when not belonging to the
farm, always paid so much sheep, so much lambs: but, I dare say, you
manage well.
Sir William's letter has delighted me, with your activity and
prudence.
LETTER XXV.
The two letters would have been over-weight, so I send you the letter
I have answered. Pray, take care of it, it is a curiosity!
Ever your faithful
NELSON & BRONTE.
Amazon, 2 P.M.
Yawkins is in great distress: his cutter paid off; and he, like many
others, very little to live upon. He begs his best respects to Sir
William. He breakfasted here this morning.
Many very long faces at peace!
LETTER XXVI.
MY DEAREST FRIEND,
Hardy begs you will send the inclosed to Naples.
I wish Tyson would come home; for many are pulling at him, and I want
to pay him. I will not be in his debt forty-eight hours after his
arrival.
Hardy is just anchored, and his commodore gone on shore.
Ever your most faithful
NELSON & BRONTE.
Mrs. Nelson had better direct her letters to me, unless I am on the
spot. You see, you paid postage, and it lays me open to their Post
Office conversation.
LETTER XXVII.
Amazon, October 19th, 1801.
MY DEAREST FRIEND,
What a gale we have had! But Admiral Lutwidge's boat came off; and, as
your letter was wrote, it got on shore: at least, I hope so; for the
boat seemed absolutely swallowed up in the sea. None of our boats
could have kept above water a moment; therefore, I could not answer
all the truly friendly things you told me in your letters, for they
were not opened before the boat was gone.
I am sure, you did well to send Mrs. Lutwidge a gown, and she loves
you very much, but there is no accounting for taste. She admires
entirely red coats; you, true blue.
They dine with Billy Pitt, to-day; or, rather, with Mr. Long; for Pitt
does not keep house, in appearance, although he asked me to come and
see him: and that I shall do, out of respect to a great man, although
he never did any thing for me or my relations. I assure you, my dear
friend, that I had rather read and hear all your little story of a
white hen getting into a tree, an anecdote of Fatima, or hear you
call--"Cupidy! Cupidy!" than any speech I shall hear in parliament:
because I know, although you can adapt your language and manners to
a child, yet that you can also thunder forth such a torrent of
eloquence, that corruption and infamy would sink before your voice, in
however _exalted_ a situation it might be placed.
Poor Oliver! what can be the matter with him?
I must leave my cot here, till my discharge, when it shall come to the
farm, as cots are the best things in the world for our sea friends.
Why not have the pictures from Davison's, and those from Dodd's;
especially, my father's, and Davison's?
_A-propos_! Sir William has not sat, I fear, to Beechey. I want a
half-length, the size of my father's and Davison's.
I wonder your pictures are not come from Hamburg! You have not lost
the directions for unfolding them; nor the measure, that I may have
frames made for them? For, up they shall go, as soon as they arrive.
What, have your picture, and not hang it up? _No_; I will submit, in
the farm, to every order but _that_.
The weather, to-day, is tolerable; but, I do not think I could well
get on shore: but Thursday, I hope, will be a fine day.
I shall call on Mr. Pitt, make my visit at the Hospital, and get off
very early on Friday morning.
My cold is still very troublesome, I cannot get my bowels in order. In
the night I had not a little fever.
But, never mind; the Admiralty will not always be there. Every one has
their day.
God bless you, my dear friend; and believe me, ever, your's most
faithfully,
NELSON & BRONTE.
Write on Wednesday.
Your letters of yesterday are received. Reverend Doctor would like to
be a Bishop.
I have sent poor Thomson's letter, and the distressed Mrs. ----, to
the Earl. Kindest regards to Sir William.
LETTER XXVIII.
Amazon, October 20th, 1801.
MY DEAREST FRIEND,
How could you think, for a moment, that I would be a time-server to
any Minister on earth! And, if you had studied my letter a little
closer, you would have seen that my intention was, to shew them that I
could be as useful in the cabinet as in the field.
My idea is, to let them see that my attendance is worth soliciting.
For myself, I can have nothing; but, for my brother, something may be
done.
Living with Mr. Addington a good deal; never, in your sense of the
word, shall I do it. What, leave my dearest friends, to dine with a
minister? Damn me, if I do, beyond what you yourself shall judge to be
necessary! Perhaps, it may be _once_; and _once_ with the _Earl_ but
that you shall judge for me.
If I give up all intercourse--you know enough of Courts, that they
will do nothing: make yourself of consequence to them, and they will
do what you wish, in reason; and, out of reason, I never should ask
them.
It must be a great bore, to me, to go to the House. I shall tell Mr.
Addington, that I go on the 29th to please him, and not to please
myself; but more of this subject, when we meet.
Dr. Baird is laid up with the rheumatism; he will now believe, that
the cold may affect me. This is the coldest place in England, most
assuredly.
_Troubridge_ writes me that, as the weather is set in fine again, he
hopes I shall get _walks_ on shore. He is, I suppose, laughing at me;
but, never mind.
I agree with you, in wishing Sir William had a horse. Why don't you
send to the Duke, for a poney for him.
I am just parting with four of my ships--Captains Conn, Rowley,
Martin, and Whitter--who are proceeding to the Nore, in their way to
be paid off.
The surf is still so great on the beach, that I could not land dry, if
it was necessary, to-day; but, I hope, it will be smooth on Thursday:
if not, I must go in a boat to Dover, and come from thence to Deal.
Sutton says, he will get the Amazon under sail, and carry me down;
for, that I shall not take cold: Bedford goes with a squadron to
Margate; so that all our party will be broke up. I am sure, to many of
them, I feel truly obliged.
Make my kindest respects to Sir William; and believe me, ever, your
most faithful and affectionate
NELSON & BRONTE.
I wish Banti was separated from Charles, for he is a knowing one. I
wish I could get him with a good Captain, who would keep him strict to
his duty.
Hardy cannot get paid a hundred pounds he advanced for Mr. Williams's
nephew.
Many thanks for Mrs. Nelson's letters.
The Reverend Doctor likes going about. Only think of his wanting to
come up with an address of thanks! Why, [the] King will not receive
him, although he is a Doctor; and less, for being my brother--for,
they certainly do not like me.
LETTER XXIX.
Amazon, October 20th, 1801.
MY DEAREST FRIEND,
Only two days more, the Admiralty could, with any conscience, keep me
here; not that I think, they have had any conscience.
I dare say, Master Troubridge is grown fat. I know, I am grown lean,
with my complaint: which, but for their indifference about my health,
would never have happened; or, at least, I should have got well, long
ago, in a warm room, with a good fire, and sincere friends.
I believe, I leave this little squadron with sincere regret, and with
the good wishes of every creature in it.
How I should laugh, to see you, my dear friend, rowing in a boat; the
beautiful Emma rowing a one-armed Admiral in a boat! It will certainly
be caricatured.
Well done, farmer's wife! I'll bet your turkey against Mrs. Nelson's;
but, Sir William and I will decide.
Hardy says, you may be sure of him; and, that he has not lost his
appetite.
You will make us rich, with your economy.
I did not think, tell Sir William, that impudence had got such deep
root in Wales. I send you the letter, as a curiosity; and to have the
impudence to recommend a midshipman!
It is not long ago, a person from Yorkshire desired me to lend him
three hundred pounds, as he was going to set up a school!
Are these people mad; or, do they take me for quite a fool?
However, I have wisdom enough to laugh at their folly; and to be,
myself, your most obliged and faithful friend,
NELSON & BRONTE.
Best regards to Sir William, Mrs. Cadogan, and all friends.
LETTER XXX.
Amazon, October 21st, 1801.
MY DEAREST FRIEND,
It blows strong from the westward, and is a very dirty day, with a
good deal of surf on the beach; but Hardy and Sutton recommended my
going on shore this morning, as they believe it may blow a heavy gale
to-morrow. But, what comfort could I have had, for two whole days, at
Deal?
I hope the morning will be fine: but I have ordered a Deal boat, as
they understand the beach better than our's; and, if I cannot land
here, I shall go to Ramsgate Pier, and come to Deal in a carriage.
Has Mrs. Cadogan got my Peer's robe? for I must send for Mr. Webb, and
have it altered to a Viscount's.
Lord Hood wrote to me, to-day, and he is to be one of my introducers.
He wanted me to dine with him the 24th; but I'll be damned if I dine
from home that day, and it would be as likely we should dine out the
23d.
If you and Sir William ever wish me to dine with his brother, it must
be the time of a very small party; for it would be worse than death to
me, to dine in so large a party.
I expect, that all animals will increase where you are, for I never
expect that you will suffer any to be killed.
I am glad Sir William has got the Duke's poney; riding will do him
much good.
I am sorry to tell you, that Dr. Baird is so ill, that I am told it is
very probable he may never recover.
This place is the devil's, for dreadful colds: and I don't believe I
should get well all the winter; for both cough, and bowels, are still
very much out of order.
You are now writing your last letter for Deal; so am I, for Merton,
from Deal: at least, I hope so; for, if I can help it, I will not
return to it.
I have much to do, being the last day on board; but ever, my dearest
friend, believe me your truly affectionate
NELSON & BRONTE.
I am literally starving with cold; but my heart is warm.
I suppose I shall dine with Lutwidge: but I am not very desirous of
it; for I shall have Sutton, Bedford, and Hardy, with me.
You must prepare Banti's mother, as it is a peace, for some other line
of life than the navy. Yesterday, he sold a pair of silver buckles; he
would soon ruin poor Charles, who is really a well-disposed boy.
I never shall get warm again, I believe. I cannot feel the pen.
Make my kindest regards to Sir William, Mrs. Cadogan, Oliver, &c.
Sutton, Hardy, and Bedford, all join in kind remembrances.
As Monday is Horace's birth-day, I suppose I must send him a one pound
note.
LETTER XXXI.
May 22d, [1803.]
Eight o'Clock in the Morning.
MY DEAREST EMMA,
We are now in sight of Ushant, and shall see Admiral Cornwallis in an
hour.
I am not in a little fret, on the idea that he may keep the Victory,
and turn us all into the Amphion. It will make it truly uncomfortable;
but, I cannot help myself.
I assure you, my dear Emma, that I feel a thorough conviction, that we
shall meet again, with honour, riches, and health, and remain together
till a good old age. I look at your and my God's Child's picture; but,
till I am sure of remaining here, I cannot bring myself to hang
them up. Be assured, that my attachment, and affectionate regard, is
unalterable; nothing can shake it! And, pray, say so to my dear Mrs.
T. when you see her. Tell her, that my love is unbounded, to her and
her dear sweet child; and, if she should have more, it will extend
to all of them. In short, my dear Emma, say every thing to her, which
your dear, affectionate, heart and head, can think of.
We are very comfortable. Mr. Elliot is happy, has quite recovered his
spirits; he was very low, at Portsmouth. George Elliot is very well;
say so, to Lord Minto. Murray, Sutton--in short, every body in the
ship, seems happy; and, if we should fall in with a French man-of-war,
I have no fears but they will do as we used to do.
Hardy is gone into Plymouth, to see our Dutchman safe. I think, she
will turn out a good prize.
Gaetano desires his duty to Miledi! He is a good man; and, I dare say,
will come back: for, I think, it cannot be a long war; just enough to
make me independent in pecuniary matters.
If the wind stands, on Tuesday we shall be on the coast of Portugal;
and, before next Sunday, in the Mediterranean.
To Mrs. Cadogan, say every kind thing; to good Mrs. Nelson, the
Doctor, &c. &c.
If you like, you may tell him about the entailing of the pension: but,
perhaps, he will be so much taken up with Canterbury, that it will do
for some dull evening at Hilborough.
I shall now stop, till I have been on board the Admiral. Only, tell
Mrs. T. that I will write her the first safe opportunity; I am not
sure of this.
I shall direct to Merton, after June 1st. Therefore, as you change,
make Davison take a direction to Nepean; but, I would not trouble him
with too many directions, for fear of embroil.
May 23d.
We were close in with Brest, yesterday; and found, by a frigate, that
Admiral Cornwallis had a rendezvous at sea. Thither we went; but, to
this hour, cannot find him.
It blows strong. What wind we are losing! If I cannot find the
Admiral by six o'clock, we must all go into the Amphion, and leave
the Victory, to my great mortification. So much for the wisdom of my
superiors.
I keep my letter open to the last: for, I still hope; as, I am sure,
there is no good reason for my not going out in the Victory.
I am just embarking in the Amphion; cannot find Admiral Cornwallis.
May God in Heaven bless you! prays your most sincere
NELSON & BRONTE.
Stephens's publication I should like to have.
I have left my silver seal; at least, I cannot find it.
LETTER XXXII.
[July 1803.
MY DEAREST EMMA,
Although I have wrote letters from various places, merely to
say--"Here I am," and "There I am;"--yet, as I have no doubt but
that they would all be read, it was impossible for me to say more
than--"Here I am, and well:" and I see no prospect of any certain mode
of conveyance, but by sea; which, with the means the Admiralty has
given me, of small vessels, can be but seldom.
Our passages have been enormously long. From Gibraltar to Malta, we
were eleven days: arriving the fifteenth in the evening, and sailing
in the night of the sixteenth--that is, three in the morning of the
seventeenth--and it was the twenty-sixth before we got off Capri;
where I had ordered the frigate, which carried Mr. Elliot to Naples,
to join me.
I send you copies of the King and Queen's letters. I am vexed, that
she did not mention you! I can only account for it, by her's being a
political letter.
When I wrote to the Queen, I said--"I left Lady Hamilton, the
eighteenth of May; and so attached to your Majesty, that I am sure she
would lay down her life to preserve your's. Your Majesty never had a
more sincere, attached, and real friend, than your dear Emma. You
will be sorry to hear, that good Sir William did not leave her in such
comfortable circumstances as his fortune would have allowed. He has
given it amongst his relations. But she will do honour to his memory,
although every one else of his friends call loudly against him on that
account."
I trust, my dear Emma, she has wrote you. If she can forget Emma, I
hope, God will forget her! But, you think, that she never will, or
can. Now is her time to shew it.
You will only shew the King and Queen's letters to some few particular
friends.
The King is very low; lives, mostly, at Belvidere. Mr. Elliot had not
seen either him or the Queen, from the seventeenth, the day of his
arrival, to the twenty-first. On the next day, he was to be presented.
I have made up my mind, that it is part of the plan of that Corsican
Scoundrel, to conquer the kingdom of Naples. He has marched thirteen
thousand men into the kingdom, on the Adriatic side; and he will take
possession, with as much shadow of right, of Gaeta and Naples: and,
if the poor King remonstrates, or allows us to secure Sicily, he will
call it war, and declare a conquest.
I have cautioned General Acton, not to risk the Royal Family too
long; but Naples will be conquered, sooner or later, as it may suit
Buonaparte's convenience.
The Morea, and Egypt, are likewise in his eye. An army of full seventy
thousand men are assembling in Italy.
Gibbs and Noble are gone to Malta.
I am, you may believe, very anxious to get off Toulon, to join the
fleet.
Sir Richard Bickerton went from off Naples, the day I left Gibraltar.
We passed Monte Christo, Bastia, and Cape Corse, yesterday; and are
now moving, slowly, direct for Toulon.
What force they have, I know not; indeed, I am totally ignorant: some
say, nine sail of the line; some, seven; some, five. If the former,
they will come out; for we have only the same number, including
sixty-fours, and very shortly manned.
However, I hope they will come out, and let us settle the matter. You
know, I hate being kept in suspence.
[July 8th.
I left this hole, to put down what force the French have at Toulon.
Seven sail of the line ready, five frigates, and six corvettes. One
or two more in about a week. We, to day, eight sail of the
line--to-morrow, seven; including two sixty-four gun ships.
You will readily believe, how rejoiced I shall be to get one of your
dear, excellent letters, that I may know every thing which has passed
since my absence.
I sincerely hope, that Mr. Booth has settled all your accounts. Never
mind, my dear Emma, a few hundred pounds; which is all the rigid gripe
of the law, not justice, can wrest from you.
I thank God, that you cannot want; (although that is no good reason
for its being taken from you:) whilst I have sixpence, you shall not
want for fivepence of it! But, you have bought your experience, that
there is no friendship in money concerns; and, your good sense will
make you profit of it.
I hope, the minister has done something for you. But, never mind, we
can live upon bread and cheese.
Independence is a blessing; and, although I have not yet found out
the way to get prize money--what has been taken, has run into our
mouths--however, it must turn out very hard, if I cannot get enough to
pay off my debts, and that will be no small comfort.
I have not mentioned my Bronte affairs to Acton, as yet; but, if
Naples remains much longer, I shall ask the question. But, I expect
nothing from them. I believe, even Acton wishes himself well, and
safely removed.
I think, from what I hear, that the King's spirits are so much
depressed, that he will give up the reins of Naples, at least, to his
son, and retire to Sicily. Sir William, you know, always thought,
that he would end his life so. Certainly, his situation must be
heart-breaking!
Gaetano returned in the frigate. I believe, he saw enough of Naples.
He carried his family money; and Mr. Falconet (Gibbs being absent)
will pay Mr. Greville's pension to Gaetano's family. I have now [sent]
Gaetano to the post: and he desires, to present his duty; and to tell
you, that Mr. Ragland, from Sir William's death, will not pay any more
pensions, without orders from Mr. Greville.
Vincenzo has had none paid. He is very poor; keeps a shop. His son
wanted, I find, to come in the frigate to me. I cannot afford to
maintain him; therefore, I shall give no encouragement.
Old Antonio was allowed a carline a day; that is, now, not paid.
Sabatello lives with Mr. Elliot.
Nicolo, and Mary Antonio, have left Mr. Gibbs, for some cause; Gaetano
says, he believes, for _amore_.
Francesca has two children living, and another coming. She lives the
best amongst them, like _gallant homme_.
Pasqual lives with the Duke Montelione; and Joseph, with the old
Russian.
Your house is a hotel; the upper parts are kept for the Marquis, the
owner.
Mr. Elliot has taken the house of the Baille Franconi, on the Chaia.
Doctor Nudi inquired kindly after us; and all the women at Santa Lucia
expected, when they saw Gaetano, that you was arrived.
Bread never was so dear; every thing else in plenty. The wages not
being raised, Gaetano says, the poor of England are a million times
better off.
So much for Gaetano's news. He desires his duty to Signora Madre; and
remembrances to Mary Ann, Fatima, &c.
[July 8th.
We joined, this morning, the fleet. The men in the ships are good; but
the ships themselves are a little the worse for wear, and very short
of their complements of men. We shall never be better: therefore, let
them come; the sooner, the better.
I shall write a line to the Duke, that he may see I do not forget my
friends; and I rely, my dearest Emma, on your saying every kind thing,
for me, to the Doctor, Mrs. Nelson, Mrs. Bolton, Mr. and Mrs. Matcham,
Mrs. Cadogan; whose kindness, and goodness, I shall never forget.
You will have the goodness to send the inclosed, as directed; and be
assured, that I am, to the last moment of my life, your most attached,
faithful, and affectionate,
NELSON & BRONTE.
LETTER XXXIII.
Victory, off Toulon,
August 1, 1803.
[I do not know that you will get this letter.]
MY DEAREST EMMA,
Your letter of May 31, which came under cover to Mr. Noble, of Naples,
inclosing Davison's correspondence with Plymouth, arrived by the
Phoebe two days ago: and this is the only scrap of a pen which has
been received by any person in the fleet since we sailed from England.
You will readily conceive, my dear Emma, the sensations which the
sight and reading even your few lines [occasioned.] They cannot be
understood, but by those of such mutual and truly sincere attachment
as your's and mine. Although you said little, I understood a great
deal, and most heartily approve of your plan and society for next
winter; and, next spring, I hope to be rich enough to begin the
alterations at dear Merton. It will serve to amuse you; and, I am
sure, that I shall admire all your alterations, even to planting a
gooseberry bush.
Sutton joined me yesterday, and we are all got into the Victory; and,
a few days will put us in order.
Every body gives a very excellent character of Mr. Chevalier, the
servant recommended by Mr. Davison; and I shall certainly live as
frugal as my station will admit. I have known the pinch, and shall
endeavour never to know it again.
I want to send two thousand one hundred pounds, to pay off Mrs.
Greaves, on October 1st. But, I have not received one farthing; but,
I hope to receive some soon. But Mr. Haslewood promised to see this
matter kept right for me.
Hardy is now busy, hanging up your and Horatia's picture; and I trust
soon to see the other two safe arrived from the Exhibition. I want
no others to ornament my cabin. I can contemplate them, and find new
beauties every day, and I do not want any body else.
You will not expect much news from us. We see nothing. I have great
fear, that all Naples will fall into the hands of the French; and, if
Acton does not take care, Sicily also. However, I have given my final
advice so fully and strongly that, let what will happen, they cannot
blame me.
Captain Capel says, Mr. Elliot cannot bear Naples. I have no doubt,
but that it is very different to your time.
The Queen, I fancy, by the seal, has sent a letter to Castelcicala;
her letter to me is only thanks for my attention to the safety of the
kingdom. If Dr. Scott has time, and is able, he shall write a copy for
you.
The King is very much retired. He would not see the French General,
St. Cyr; who came to Naples, _to settle the contribution for the
payment of the French army_.
The Queen was ordered to give him and the French minister a dinner,
but the King staid at Belvidere.
I think, he will give it up soon; and retire to Sicily, if the French
will allow him.
Acton has never dared give Mr. Elliot, or one Englishman, a dinner.