<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN>
<p id="id00007" style="margin-top: 4em">Produced by Steven Gibbs, S.R.Ellison and the PG Online
Distributed Proofreading Team.</p>
<h1 id="id00008" style="margin-top: 6em">THE</h1>
<p id="id00009">Letters</p>
<h5 id="id00010">OF</h5>
<h5 id="id00011">LORD NELSON</h5>
<h5 id="id00012">TO</h5>
<h5 id="id00013">LADY HAMILTON;</h5>
<h5 id="id00014">WITH A</h5>
<h5 id="id00015">SUPPLEMENT</h5>
<h5 id="id00016">OF</h5>
<h5 id="id00017">
<i>INTERESTING LETTERS</i>,</h5>
<h5 id="id00018">BY</h5>
<p id="id00019">Distinguished Characters.</p>
<h5 id="id00020">IN TWO VOLUMES.</h5>
<h5 id="id00021">VOL. II.</h5>
<p id="id00022">London: Printed by Macdonald and Son, Smithfield,<br/>
FOR THOMAS LOVEWELL & CO. STAINES HOUSE, BARBICAN;<br/>
AND SOLD BY ALL THE BOOKSELLERS.<br/></p>
<p id="id00023">1814.</p>
<h2 id="id00024" style="margin-top: 4em">CONTENTS.</h2>
<h5 id="id00025">VOL. II.</h5>
<h5 id="id00026">LETTERS FROM LORD NELSON TO LADY HAMILTON.</h5>
<p id="id00027" style="margin-top: 2em"> LETTER XL. Page 5<br/>
XLI. 10<br/>
XLII. 21<br/>
XLIII. 26<br/>
XLIV. 29<br/>
XLV. 34<br/>
XLVI. 36<br/>
XLVII. 39<br/>
XLVIII. 48<br/>
XLIX. 53<br/>
L. 56<br/>
LI. 62<br/>
LII. 65<br/>
LIII. 67<br/>
LIV. 73<br/>
LV. 77<br/>
LVI. 79<br/>
LVII. 83<br/>
LVIII. 87<br/>
LIX. 96<br/>
LX. 100<br/></p>
<h5 id="id00028">SUPPLEMENT.</h5>
<p id="id00029"><i>Letters from Lord Nelson to Miss Horatia Nelson Thomson, now Miss
Horatia Nelson, Lord Nelson's Adopted Daughter; and to Miss Charlotte
Nelson, Daughter of the present Earl</i>.</p>
<p id="id00030" style="margin-left: 2%; margin-right: 2%"> LETTER to Miss Horatia Nelson Page 107
to Miss Charlotte Nelson 109</p>
<p id="id00031"><i>Letters from Alexander Davison, Esq. to Lady Hamilton.</i></p>
<p id="id00032"> LETTER I. Page 113<br/>
II. 115<br/>
III. 119<br/></p>
<p id="id00033" style="margin-top: 2em"><i>Letter from Lady Hamilton to Alexander Davison, Esq. inclosing her
Ladyship's Verses on Lord Nelson</i></p>
<p id="id00034"> Page 125</p>
<p id="id00035" style="margin-top: 3em"><i>Letter from Lady Hamilton to the Right Honourable Henry Addington,
now Viscount Sidmouth</i></p>
<p id="id00036"> Page 131</p>
<p id="id00037"><i>Letters from Sir William Hamilton, K.B. to Lady Hamilton.</i></p>
<p id="id00038"> LETTER I. Page 137<br/>
II. 140<br/>
III. 143<br/>
IV. 146<br/>
V. 149<br/>
VI. 150<br/>
VII. 152<br/>
VIII. 155<br/>
IX. 157<br/>
X. 160<br/>
XI. 163<br/>
XII. 166<br/>
XIII. 169<br/>
XIV. 171<br/>
XV. 174<br/>
XVI. 177<br/>
XVII. 180<br/></p>
<p id="id00039" style="margin-top: 2em"> <i>Letters from Sir William Hamilton, K.B. to Lord<br/>
Nelson.</i><br/></p>
<p id="id00040"> LETTER I. Page 185<br/>
II. 190<br/>
III. 192<br/>
IV. 194<br/>
V. 197<br/>
VI. 199<br/>
VII. 200<br/>
VIII. 205<br/>
IX. 207<br/>
X. 210<br/>
XI. 216<br/>
XII. 220<br/></p>
<p id="id00041"> <i>Letters from Lord Nelson to Sir William Hamilton,<br/>
K.B.</i><br/></p>
<p id="id00042"> LETTER I. Page 225<br/>
II. 227<br/>
III. 231<br/>
IV. 233<br/>
V. 240<br/>
VI. 243<br/>
VII. 245<br/>
VIII. 247<br/>
IX. 254<br/>
X. 256<br/>
XI. 258<br/>
XII. 261<br/></p>
<h2 id="id00043" style="margin-top: 4em">THE</h2>
<p id="id00044">Letters</p>
<h5 id="id00045">OF</h5>
<h5 id="id00046">LORD NELSON</h5>
<h5 id="id00047">TO</h5>
<h5 id="id00048">LADY HAMILTON.</h5>
<h2 id="id00049" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTER XL.</h2>
<p id="id00050" style="margin-top: 2em"> Victory, under Majorca,<br/>
January 13th, 1804.<br/></p>
<h5 id="id00051">MY OWN DEAR BELOVED EMMA,</h5>
<p id="id00052">I received, on the 9th, your letters of September 29th, October 2, 7,
10, 12, 17th, November 5th, 8th, to the 24th: and I am truly sensible
of all your kindness and affectionate regard for me; which, I am sure,
is reciprocal, in every respect, from your own Nelson.</p>
<p id="id00053">If that Lady Bitch knew of that person's coming to her house, it was a
trick; but which, I hope, you will not subject yourself to again. But,
I do not like it!</p>
<p id="id00054">However, it is passed; and, we must have confidence in each other:
and, my dearest Emma, judging of you by myself, it is not all the
world that could seduce me, in thought, word, or deed, from all my
soul holds most dear.</p>
<p id="id00055">Indeed, if I can help it, I never intend to go out of the ship, but to
the shore of Portsmouth; and that will be, if it pleases God, before
next Christmas. Indeed, I think, long before, if the French will
venture to sea.</p>
<p id="id00056">I send you a letter from the Queen of Naples. They call out, might and
main, for our protection; and, God knows, they are sure of me.</p>
<p id="id00057">Mr. Elliot complains heavily of the expence; and says, he will retire
the moment it is peace. He expected his family, when they would sit
down eleven Elliots!</p>
<p id="id00058">If, my dear Emma, you are to mind all the reports you may hear, you
may always be angry with your Nelson.</p>
<p id="id00059">In the first place, instead of eight days, Mr. Acourt; he came on
board one day, just before dinner, and left me next morning, after
breakfast.</p>
<p id="id00060">What pleasure people can have in telling lies! But, I care not what
they say; I defy them all.</p>
<p id="id00061">You may safely rely, that I can for ever repeat, with truth, these
words—for ever I love you, and only you, my Emma; and, you may be
assured, as long as you are the same to me, that you are never absent
a moment from my thoughts.</p>
<p id="id00062">I am glad you are going to Merton; you will live much more
comfortable, and much cheaper, than in London: and this spring, if you
like to have the house altered, you can do it. But, I fancy, you will
soon tire of so much dirt, and the inconvenience will be very great
the whole summer.</p>
<p id="id00063">All I request, if you fix to have it done, [is] that Mr. Davison's
architect, who drew the plan, may have the inspection; and, he must
take care that it does not exceed the estimate.</p>
<p id="id00064">If it is done by contract, you must not <i>alter</i>; or a bill is run-up,
much worse than if we had never contracted. Therefore, I must
either buy the materials, and employ respectable workmen, under the
architect; or, contract.</p>
<p id="id00065">I rather believe, it would be better for me to buy the materials, and
put out the building to a workman; but, you must get some good advice.</p>
<p id="id00066">With respect to the new entrance— * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * *</p>
<h2 id="id00067" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTER XLI.</h2>
<p id="id00068" style="margin-top: 2em; margin-left: 2%; margin-right: 2%"> Victory, March 14th, [1804]
off Toulon.</p>
<p id="id00069">Young Faddy, my Dearest Emma, brought me, two days ago, your dear and
most kind letter of November 26th, and you are sure that I shall take
a very early opportunity of promoting him; and he appears to be grown
a fine young man, but vacancies do not happen very frequently in this
station. However, if he behaves well, he may be sure of me.</p>
<p id="id00070">With respect to Mr. Jefferson, I can [neither] say nor do any thing.
The surgeon of the Victory is a very able, excellent man, and the ship
is kept in the most perfect state of health; and, I would not, if I
could—but, thank [God] I cannot—do such an unjust act, as to remove
him. He is my own asking for! and, I have every reason to be perfectly
content.</p>
<p id="id00071">Mr. Jefferson got on, by my help; and, by his own misconduct, he got
out of a good employ, and has seen another person, at Malta hospital,
put over his head. He must now begin again; and act with much more
attention and sobriety, than he has done, to ever get forward
again: but, time may do much; and, I shall rejoice to hear of his
reformation.</p>
<p id="id00072">I am not surprised, my dearest Emma, at the enormous expences of the
watering place; but, if it has done my own Emma service, it is well
laid out. A thousand pounds a year will not go far; and we need be
great economists, to make both ends meet, and to carry on the little
improvements. As for making one farthing more prize-money, I do not
expect it; except, by taking the French fleet: and, the event of that
day, who can foresee!</p>
<p id="id00073">With respect to Mrs. Græfer—what she has done, God and herself knows;
but I have made up my mind, that Gibbs will propose an hundred pounds
a year for her: if so, I shall grant it, and have done. I send you
Mrs. Græfer's last letter.</p>
<p id="id00074">Whilst I am upon the subject of Bronte, I have one word more—and your
good, dear, kind heart, must not think that I shall die one hour the
sooner; on the contrary, my mind has been more content ever since I
have done: I have left you a part of the rental of Bronte, to be first
paid every half year, and in advance. It is but common justice; and,
whether Mr. Addington gives you any thing, or not, you will want it.</p>
<p id="id00075">I would not have you lay out more than is necessary, at Merton. The
rooms, and the new entrance, will take a good deal of money. The
entrance by the corner I would have certainly done; a common white
gate will do for the present; and one of the cottages, which is in the
barn, can be put up, as a temporary lodge. The road can be made to
a temporary bridge; for that part of the <i>Nile</i>, one day, shall be
filled up.</p>
<p id="id00076">Downing's canvas awning will do for a passage. For the winter,
the carriage can be put in the barn; and, giving up Mr. Bennett's
premises, will save fifty pounds a year: and, another year, we can fit
up the coach-house and stables, which are in the barn.</p>
<p id="id00077">The foot-path should be turned. I did shew Mr. Haslewood the way I
wished it done; and Mr. ——— will have no objections, if we make it
better than ever it has been: and, I also beg, as my dear Horatia is
to be at Merton, that a strong netting, about three feet high, may be
placed round the Nile, that the little thing may not tumble in; and,
then, you may have ducks again in it. I forget, at what place we saw
the netting; and either Mr. Perry, or Mr. Goldsmid, told us where it
was to be bought. I shall be very anxious until I know this is done.</p>
<p id="id00078">I have had no very late opportunities of sending to Naples: but, <i>viâ</i>
Malta, I wrote to Gibbs, to desire he would send over and purchase
the <i>amorins</i>. They will arrive in time. I hope, the watch is arrived
safe.</p>
<p id="id00079">The British Fair cutter, I hope, is arrived safe. She has three
packets, from me, to England,</p>
<p id="id00080">The expences of the alterations at Merton <i>you are</i> not to pay from
the income. Let it all be put to a separate account, and I will
provide a fund for the payment.</p>
<p id="id00081">All I long for, just now, is to hear that you are <i>perfectly</i>
recovered; and, then, I care for nothing: all my hopes are, to
see you, and be happy, at dear Merton, again; but, I fear, this
miscarriage of Pichegru's, in France, will prolong the war. It has
kept the French fleet in port, which we are all sorry for.</p>
<p id="id00082">Sir William Bolton was on board yesterday. He looks thin. The fag in
a brig is very great; and I see no prospect of his either making
prize-money, or being made post, at present: but, I shall omit no
opportunity.</p>
<p id="id00083">I wrote to Mrs. Bolton a few months ago; and gave her letter,
yesterday, to Bolton. He conducts himself very well, indeed.</p>
<p id="id00084">Ever, my dearest Emma, for ever, I am your most faithful, and
affectionate</p>
<p id="id00085"> NELSON & BRONTE.</p>
<p id="id00086">Although I cannot well afford it, yet I could not bear that poor blind
Mrs. Nelson should be in want in her old days, and sell her plate;
therefore, if you will find out what are her debts, if they come
within my power, I will certainly pay them.</p>
<p id="id00087">Many, I dare say, if they had commanded here, would have made money;
but, I can assure you, for prizes taken within the Mediterranean, I
have not more than paid my expences. However, I would rather pinch
myself, than she, poor soul, should want. Your good, angelic heart,
my dearest beloved Emma, will fully agree with me, every thing is very
expensive; and, even we find it, and will be obliged to economise, if
we assist our friends: and, I am sure, we should feel more comfort in
it than in loaded tables, and entertaining a set of people who care
not for us.</p>
<p id="id00088">An account is this moment brought me, that a small sum is payable to
me, for some neutral taken off Cadiz in May 1800; so that I shall not
be poorer for my gift. It is odd, is it not?</p>
<p id="id00089">I shall, when I come home, settle four thousand pounds in trustees
hands, for Horatia; for, I will not put it in my own power to have
her left destitute: for she would want friends, if we left her in this
world. She shall be independent of any smiles or frowns!</p>
<p id="id00090">I am glad you are going to take her home; and, if you will take the
trouble with Eliza and Ann, I am the very last to object.</p>
<p id="id00091">Tom, I shall certainly assist at college; and, I am sure, the Doctor
expects that I should do the same for Horace: but I must make my
arrangements, so as not to run in debt.</p>
<p id="id00092"> April 9th.</p>
<p id="id00093">I have wrote to the Duke; but, by your account, I fear he is not
alive. I write, because you wish me; and, because I like the Duke,
and hope he will leave you some money. But, for myself, I can have
no right to expect a farthing: nor would I be a legacy hunter for the
world; I never knew any good come from it.</p>
<p id="id00094">I send you a letter from Mr. Falconet. I am afraid, they have made a
jumble about the <i>amorins</i>. And I send you a very impertinent letter
from that old cat. I have sent her a very dry answer, and told her, I
should send the sweetmeats to you. I always hated the old bitch! But,
was she young, and as beautiful as an angel, I am engaged; I am all,
soul and body, my Emmas: nor would I change her for all this world
could give me.</p>
<p id="id00095">I would not have Horatia think of a dog. I shall not bring her one;
and, I am sure, she is better without a pet of that sort. But, she is
like her mother, would get all the old dogs in the place about her.</p>
<p id="id00096"> April 14th.</p>
<p id="id00097">I am so sea-sick, that I cannot write another line; except, to
say—God Almighty bless you, my dearest beloved Emma! prays, ever,
your faithful</p>
<p id="id00098"> NELSON & BRONTE.</p>
<h2 id="id00099" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTER XLII.</h2>
<p id="id00100" style="margin-top: 2em"> Victory, April 2d, 1804.</p>
<p id="id00101">I have, my Dearest Beloved Emma, been so uneasy for this last month;
desiring, most ardently, to hear of your well doing!</p>
<p id="id00102">Captain Capel brought me your letters, sent by the Thisbe, from
Gibraltar. I opened—opened—found none but December, and early in
January. I was in such an agitation! At last, I found one without a
date: which, thank God! told my poor heart, that you was recovering;
but, that dear little Emma was no more! and, that Horatia had been so
very ill—it all together upset me.</p>
<p id="id00103">But, it was just at bed-time; and I had time to reflect, and be
thankful to God for sparing you and our dear Horatia. I am sure,
the loss of one—much more, both—would have drove me mad. I was so
agitated, as it was, that I was glad it was night, and that I could be
by myself.</p>
<p id="id00104">Kiss dear Horatia, for me: and tell her, to be a dutiful and good
child; and, if she is, that we shall always love her.</p>
<p id="id00105">You may, if you like, tell Mrs. G. that I shall certainly settle
a small pension on her. It shall not be large, as we may have the
pleasure of making her little presents; and, my dearest Emma, I
shall not be wanting to every body who has been kind to you, be they
servants or gentlefolks.</p>
<p id="id00106">Admiral Lutwidge is a good man; and, I like Mrs. Lutwidge—and shall,
always more, because she is fond of you.</p>
<p id="id00107">Never mind the great Bashaw at the Priory. He be damned! If he<br/>
was single, and had a mind to marry you, he could only make you a<br/>
Marchioness: but, as he is situated, and I situated, I can make you a<br/>
Duchess; and, if it pleases God, that time may arrive! Amen. Amen.<br/></p>
<p id="id00108">As for your friend Lady H——, she is, in her way, as great a pimp as
any of them.</p>
<p id="id00109">What a set! But, if they manage their own intrigues, is not that
enough! I am sure, neither you or I care what they do; much less, envy
them their <i>chere amies</i>.</p>
<p id="id00110">As for Lord S——, and the other, I care nothing about them; for I
have every reason, by my own feelings towards you, to think you care
only for your Nelson.</p>
<p id="id00111">I have not heard of your receiving the little box from Naples;
bracelets, I fancy, but I did not open them.</p>
<p id="id00112">I wish the <i>amorins</i> may come in time for the conveyance of Captain
Layman; who has, most unfortunately, lost his sloop: he is strongly
recommended, by the governor and garrison of Gibraltar. But, perhaps,
he may not be able to obtain it.</p>
<p id="id00113">We have such reports about the King's health, that the present
ministry may be out; and, for what I know or care, another set may be
no better, for you or me.</p>
<p id="id00114">As for the Admiralty, let who will be in, they can neither do me any
great good or harm: they may vex me, a little; but, that will recoil
upon themselves.</p>
<p id="id00115">I hope, however, they will confirm Captain Layman; for he is attached
not only to me, but is a very active officer. But, it was his
venturing to know more about India than Troubridge, that made them
look shy upon him; and, his tongue runs too fast. I often tell him,
not to let his tongue run so fast, or his pen write so much.</p>
<h2 id="id00116" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTER XLIII.</h2>
<p id="id00117" style="margin-top: 2em"> Victory, off Toulon,<br/>
April 10th, 1804.<br/></p>
<h5 id="id00118">MY DEAREST EMMA,</h5>
<p id="id00119">I have received all your truly kind and affectionate letters, to
January 25th, by the Thisbe; and, last night, your letter of January
13th, by Naples.</p>
<p id="id00120">The <i>amorins</i> will go under the care of Captain Layman; who,
unfortunately, lost his sloop: but, with much credit to himself, he
has been acquitted of all blame.</p>
<p id="id00121">I rejoice that dear Horatia is got well; and, also, that you, my
dearest Emma, are recovered of your severe indisposition.</p>
<p id="id00122">In our present situation with Spain, this letter, probably, may never
reach you. I have wrote fully; and intend to send them by the Argus,
who I expect to join every minute.</p>
<p id="id00123">Elphi Bey, I hear, has had all his fine things taken from him. He
escaped into the Desert, and is pursued; probably, his head is off,
long before this time.</p>
<p id="id00124">The French fleet came out on the 5th, but went in again the next
morning.</p>
<p id="id00125">Yesterday, a Rear-Admiral, and seven sail of ships, including
frigates, put their nose outside the harbour. If they go on playing
this game, some day we shall lay salt upon their tails; and so end the
campaign of, my dearest Emma, your most faithful and affectionate</p>
<p id="id00126"> ————</p>
<p id="id00127">I am glad to hear that you are going to take my dear Horatia, to
educate her. She must turn out an angel, if she minds what you say to
her; and Eliza and Ann will never forget your goodness.</p>
<p id="id00128">My health is <i>so, so</i>! I shall get through the summer; and, in the
winter, shall go home.</p>
<p id="id00129">You will readily fancy all I would say, and do think.</p>
<p id="id00130">My kind love to all friends.</p>
<h2 id="id00131" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTER XLIV.</h2>
<p id="id00132" style="margin-top: 2em"> Victory, April 19th, 1804.</p>
<h5 id="id00133">MY DEAREST EMMA,</h5>
<p id="id00134">I had wrote you a line, intended for the Swift cutter; but, instead of
her joining me, I had the mortification, not only to hear that she was
taken, but that <i>all</i> the dispatches and letters had fallen into the
hands of the enemy; a very pretty piece of work!</p>
<p id="id00135">I am not surprised at the capture; but am very much so, that any
dispatches should be sent in a vessel with twenty-three men, not equal
to cope with any row-boat privateer.</p>
<p id="id00136">As I do not know what letters of your's are in her, I cannot guess
what will be said. I suppose, there will be a publication.</p>
<p id="id00137">The loss of the Hindostan, was great enough; but, for importance, it
is lost, in comparison to the probable knowledge the enemy will
obtain of our connections with foreign countries! Foreigners for ever
say—and it is true—"We dare not trust England; one way, or other, we
are sure to be committed!" However, it is now too late to launch out
on this subject.</p>
<p id="id00138">Not a thing has been saved out of the Hindostan, not a second shirt
for any one; and it has been by extraordinary exertions, that the
people's lives were saved.</p>
<p id="id00139">Captain Hallowell is so good as to take home, for me, wine as by the
inclosed list; and, if I can, some honey. The Spanish honey is so
precious, that if [any one has] a cut, or sore throat, it is used to
cure it. I mention this, in case you should wish to give the Duke a
jar. The smell is wonderful! It is to be produced no where, but in the
mountains near Rosas.</p>
<p id="id00140">The Cyprus wine, one hogshead, was for Buonaparte.</p>
<p id="id00141">I would recommend the wine-cooper drawing it off: and you can send a
few dozens to the Duke; who, I know, takes a glass every day at two
o'clock.</p>
<p id="id00142">I wish, I had any thing else to send you; but, my dearest Emma, you
must take the will for the deed.</p>
<p id="id00143">I am pleased with Charlotte's letter; and, as she loves my dear<br/>
Horatia, I shall always like her.<br/></p>
<p id="id00144">What hearts those must have, who do not! But, thank God, she shall not
be dependent on any of them.</p>
<p id="id00145">Your letter of February 12th, through Mr. Falconet, I have received.
I know, they are all read; therefore, never sign your name. I shall
continue to write, through Spain; but never say a word that can convey
any information—except, of eternal attachment and affection for you;
and that, I care not, who knows; for I am, for ever, and ever, your,
only your,</p>
<p id="id00146"> NELSON & BRONTE.</p>
<p id="id00147">Poor Captain Le Gros had your note to him in his pocket-book, and that
was all he saved.</p>
<p id="id00148">Mr. Este left him at Gibraltar, and went to Malta in the Thisbe.</p>
<p id="id00149">Captain Le Gros is now trying. I think, it will turn out, that every
person is obliged to his conduct for saving their lives.</p>
<p id="id00150">She took fire thirteen leagues from the land.</p>
<h2 id="id00151" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTER XLV.</h2>
<p id="id00152" style="margin-top: 2em"> Victory, April 23,1804.</p>
<h5 id="id00153">MY DEAREST EMMA,</h5>
<p id="id00154">Hallowell has promised me, if the <i>Admiralty</i> will give him leave to
go to London, that he will call at Merton.</p>
<p id="id00155">His spirit is certainly more independent than almost any man's I
ever knew; but, I believe, he is attached to me. I am sure, he has no
reason to be so, to either Troubridge or any one at the Admiralty.</p>
<p id="id00156">I have sent, last night, a box of Marischino Veritabile of Zara, which
I got Jemmy Anderson to buy for me, and twelve bottles of <i>tokay</i>. I
have kept none for myself, being better pleased that you should have
it.</p>
<p id="id00157">I am, ever, and for ever, your most faithful and affectionate</p>
<p id="id00158"> NELSON & BRONTE.</p>
<p id="id00159">Hallowell parted last night; but, being in sight, I am sending a
frigate with a letter to the Admiralty.</p>
<p id="id00160">May God Almighty bless you, and send us a happy meeting!</p>
<h2 id="id00161" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTER XLVI.</h2>
<p id="id00162" style="margin-top: 2em"> Victory, May 5, 1804.</p>
<p id="id00163">I find, my Dearest Emma, that your picture is very much admired by
the French Consul at Barcelona; and that he has not sent it to be
admired—which, I am sure, it would be—by Buonaparte.</p>
<p id="id00164">They pretend, that there were three pictures taken. I wish, I had
them: but they are all gone, as irretrievably as the dispatches;
unless we may read them in a book, as we printed their correspondence
from Egypt.</p>
<p id="id00165">But, from us, what can they find out! That I love you, most dearly;
and hate the French, most damnably.</p>
<p id="id00166">Dr. Scott went to Barcelona, to try to get the private letters; but,
I fancy, they are all gone to Paris. The Swedish and American Consuls
told him, that the French Consul had your picture, and read your
letters; and, Doctor thinks, one of them probably read the letters.</p>
<p id="id00167">By the master's account of the cutter, I would not have trusted a pair
of old shoes in her. He tells me, she did not sail, but was a good
sea-boat.</p>
<p id="id00168">I hope, Mr. Marsden will not trust any more of my private letters in
such a conveyance; if they choose to trust the affairs of the public
in such a thing, I cannot help it.</p>
<p id="id00169">I long for the invasion being over; it must finish the war, and I have
no fears for the event.</p>
<p id="id00170">I do not say, all I wish; and which, my dearest <i>beloved</i> Emma—(read
that, whoever opens this letter; and, for what I care, publish it to
the world)—your fertile imagination can readily fancy I would say:
but this I can say, with great truth, that I am, FOR EVER, YOUR'S</p>
<p id="id00171"> ————</p>
<h2 id="id00172" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTER XLVII.</h2>
<p id="id00173" style="margin-top: 2em"> Victory, May 27th, 1804.</p>
<h5 id="id00174">MY DEAREST EMMA,</h5>
<p id="id00175">Yesterday, I took Charles Connor on board, from the Phoebe, to try
what we can do with him. At present, poor fellow, he has got a very
bad eye—and, I almost fear, that he will be blind of it—owing to an
olive-stone striking his eye: but the surgeon of the Victory, who is
by far the most able medical man I have ever seen, and equally so as a
surgeon, [says] that, if it can be saved, he will do it.</p>
<p id="id00176">The other complaint, in his head, is but little more, I think, than it
was when he first came to Deal; a kind of silly laugh, when spoken to.
He always complains of a pain in the back part of his head; but, when
that is gone, I do not perceive but that he is as wise as many of his
neighbours.</p>
<p id="id00177">You may rely, my dear Emma, that nothing shall be wanting, on my part,
to render him every service.</p>
<p id="id00178">Capel—although, I am sure, very kind to younkers—-I do not think,
has the knack of keeping them in high discipline; he lets them be
their own master too much.</p>
<p id="id00179">I paid Charles's account, yesterday; since he has been in the Phoebe,
one hundred and fifty-five pounds, fourteen shillings. However, he
must now turn over a new leaf; and I sincerely hope, poor fellow, he
will yet do well.</p>
<p id="id00180">I wrote you on the 22d, through Rosas, in Spain; and I shall write, in
a few days, by Barcelona: this goes by Gibraltar.</p>
<p id="id00181">I have wrote Admiral Lutwidge; Mrs. Lutwidge must wait, for I cannot
get through all my numerous letters: for, whoever writes, although
upon their own affairs, are offended if they are not answered.</p>
<p id="id00182">I have not seen young Bailey: I suppose, he is in the Leviathan. By
the parcel, I see, he is in the Canopus; and I can, at present, be of
no use to him.</p>
<p id="id00183"> May 30th.</p>
<p id="id00184">Charles is very much recovered.</p>
<p id="id00185">I write you, this day, by Barcelona. Your dear phiz—but not the least
like you—on the cup, is safe: but I would not use it, for the world;
for, if it was broke, it would distress me very much.</p>
<p id="id00186">Your letters, by Swift, I shall never get back. The French Consul,
at Barcelona, is bragging that he has three pictures of you from the
Swift.</p>
<p id="id00187">I do not believe him; but, what if he had a hundred! Your resemblance
is so deeply engraved in my heart, that there it can never be effaced:
and, who knows? some day, I may have the happiness of having a living
picture of you!</p>
<p id="id00188">Old Mother L—— is a damned b——: but I do not understand what you
mean, or what plan.</p>
<p id="id00189">I am not surprised at my friend Kingsmill admiring you, and forgetting<br/>
Mary; he loves variety, and handsome women.<br/></p>
<p id="id00190">You touch upon the old Duke; but, I am dull of comprehension:
believing you all my own, I cannot imagine any one else to offer, in
any way.</p>
<p id="id00191">We have enough, with prudence; and, without it, we should soon be
beggars, if we had five times as much.</p>
<p id="id00192">I see, Lord Stafford is going to oppose Mr. Addington; the present
ministry cannot stand.</p>
<p id="id00193">I wish Mr. Addington had given you the pension; Pitt, and hard-hearted<br/>
Grenville, never will.<br/></p>
<p id="id00194">What a fortune the death of Lord Camelford gives him!</p>
<p id="id00195">Every thing you tell me about my dear Horatia charms me. I think I see
her, hear her, and admire her; but, she is like her dear, dear mother.</p>
<p id="id00196">I am sorry, if your account of George Martin's wife is correct; he
deserved a better fate. But, he is like Foley; gave up a great deal,
to marry the relation of a great man: although, in fact, she is no
relation to the Duke of Portland.</p>
<p id="id00197">I wish, I could but be at dear Merton, to assist in making the
alterations. I think, I should have persuaded you to have kept the
pike, and a clear stream; and to have put all the carp, tench, and
fish who muddy the water, into the pond. But, as you like, I am
content. Only take care, that my darling does not fall in, and get
drowned. I begged you to get the little netting along the edge; and,
particularly, on the bridges.</p>
<p id="id00198">I admire the seal; and God bless you, also! Amen.</p>
<p id="id00199">The boy, South, is on board another ship, learning to be a musician.
He will return soon, when he shall have the letter and money. I
hope, he will deserve it; but he has been a very bad boy: but good
floggings, I hope, will save him from the gallows.</p>
<p id="id00200">Mr. Falcon is a clever man. He would not have made such a blunder as
our friend Drake, and Spencer Smith. I hear, the last is coming, <i>viâ</i>
Trieste, to Malta. Perhaps, he wants to get to Constantinople; and, if
the Spencers get in, the Smiths will get any thing.</p>
<p id="id00201">Mr. Elliot, I hear, is a candidate for it. He complains of the expence
of Naples, I hear; and, that he cannot make both ends meet, although
he sees no company.</p>
<p id="id00202">The histories of the Queen are beyond whatever I have heard from Sir<br/>
William. Prince Leopold's establishment is all French. The Queen's<br/>
favourite, Lieutenant-Colonel St. Clair, was a subaltern; La Tour, the<br/>
Captain in the navy; and, another!<br/></p>
<p id="id00203">However, I never touch on these matters; for, I care not how she
amuses herself.</p>
<p id="id00204">It will be the upset of Acton; or, rather, he will not, I am told,
stay.</p>
<p id="id00205">The King is angry with her; his love is long gone by.</p>
<p id="id00206">I have only one word more—Do not believe a syllable the newspapers
say, or what you hear. Mankind seems fond of telling lies.</p>
<p id="id00207">Remember me kindly to Mrs. Cadogan, and all our mutual friends; and
be assured, I am, for ever, my dearest Emma, your most faithful and
affectionate</p>
<p id="id00208"> NELSON & BRONTE.</p>
<p id="id00209">George Campbell desires me always to present his best respects; and
make mine to good Mr. Yonge. What can I write him? I am sure, he must
have great pleasure in attending you: and, when you see Sir William
Scott, make my best regards acceptable to him. There is no man I have
a higher opinion of, both as a public and private character.</p>
<p id="id00210">You will long ago have had my letter; with one to Davison, desiring he
will pay for the alterations at Merton. I shall send you a letter for
the hundred pounds a month, to the Bank.</p>
<h2 id="id00211" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTER XLVIII.</h2>
<p id="id00212" style="margin-top: 2em"> Victory, June 6th, 1804.</p>
<p id="id00213">Since I wrote you, my Dearest Emma, on the 30th and 31st May, nothing
new has happened; except our hearing the <i>feu de joie</i> at Toulon, for
the declaration of Emperor.</p>
<p id="id00214">What a capricious nation those French must be! However, I think
it must, in any way, be advantageous to England. There ends, for a
century, all republics!</p>
<p id="id00215">By vessels from Marseilles, the French think it will be a peace; and
they say, that several of their merchant ships are fitting out. I
earnestly pray, that it may be so; and, that we may have a few years
of rest.</p>
<p id="id00216">I rather believe, my antagonist at Toulon, begins to be angry with me:
at least, I am trying to make him so; and then, he may come out, and
beat me, as he says he did, off Boulogne.</p>
<p id="id00217">He is the Admiral that went to Naples in December 1792, La Touche<br/>
Treville, who landed the grenadiers. I owe him something for that.<br/></p>
<p id="id00218">I am better, my dear Emma, than I have been, and shall get through the
summer very well; and I have the pleasure to tell you, that Charles is
very much recovered. There is no more the matter with his intellects,
than with mine! Quite the contrary; he is very quick.</p>
<p id="id00219">Mr. Scott, who has overlooked all his things, says, his clothes, &c.
are in the highest order he has ever seen.</p>
<p id="id00220">I shall place him in the Niger, with Captain Hilliar, when he joins;
but, all our ships are so full, that it is very difficult to get a
birth for one in any ship.</p>
<p id="id00221">Would you conceive it possible! but, it is now from April 2d, since I
have heard direct from Ball. The average time for a frigate to go, and
return, is from six to seven weeks.</p>
<p id="id00222">From you, I had letters, April 5th, and the papers to April 8th,
received May 10th, with a convoy.</p>
<p id="id00223">This goes through friend Gayner.</p>
<p id="id00224">Sir William Bolton joined last night; and received his letters,
announcing his being called <i>papa</i>. He is got a very fine young man
and good officer.</p>
<p id="id00225">Lord St. Vincent has desired he may have the first Admiralty vacancy
for post; but nobody will die, or go home.</p>
<p id="id00226"><i>A-propos</i>! I believe, you should buy a piece of plate, value fifty
pounds, for our god-daughter of Lady Bolton; and something of twenty
or thirty pounds value, for Colonel Suckling's.</p>
<p id="id00227">But, my Emma, you are not to pay for them, let it rest for me; or, if
the amount is sent me, I will order payment.</p>
<p id="id00228">Remember me most kindly to Horatia, good Mrs. Cadogan, Charlotte, Miss<br/>
Connor, and all our friends at dear, dear Merton; where, from my soul,<br/>
I wish I was, this moment: then, I sincerely hope, we should have no<br/>
cause for sorrow.<br/></p>
<p id="id00229">You will say what is right to Mr. Perry, Newton, Patterson, Mr.
Lancaster, &c. you know all these matters. God in Heaven bless and
preserve you, for ever! prays, ever, your's most faithfully,</p>
<p id="id00230"> ————</p>
<h2 id="id00231" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTER XLIX.</h2>
<p id="id00232" style="margin-top: 2em"> Victory, June 10th, 1804.</p>
<h5 id="id00233">MY DEAREST EMMA,</h5>
<p id="id00234">I wrote to you, on the 6th, <i>viâ</i> Rosas: this goes by Barcelona; to
which place I am sending Sir William Bolton, to fetch Dr. Scott, who
is gone there, poor fellow, for the benefit of his health!</p>
<p id="id00235">I have just had very melancholy letters from the King and Queen of<br/>
Naples, on account of General Acton's going to Sicily.<br/></p>
<p id="id00236">The insolence of Buonaparte was not to be parried without a war; for
which they are unable, if unassisted.</p>
<p id="id00237">I have letters from Acton, May 28, on board the Archimedes, just going
into Palermo. He will probably return to Naples, unless new events
arise: and that may be; for a minister, once out, may find some
difficulty in renewing his post. He has acted with great and becoming
spirit.</p>
<p id="id00238">I am better, but I have been very unwell. It blows, here, as much as
ever. Yesterday was a little hurricane of wind.</p>
<p id="id00239">I dare say, Prince Castelcicala knows it by express; if not, you may
tell him, with my best respects. He, and every one else, may be sure
of my attachment to those good sovereigns. By this route, I do not
choose to say more on this subject.</p>
<p id="id00240">With my kindest regards to Horatia and your good mother, Charlotte,
Miss C. and all our friends, believe me, my dear Emma, for ever, your
most faithful and affectionate</p>
<p id="id00241"> ————</p>
<p id="id00242">I fear, Sardinia will be invaded from Corsica before you get this
letter. I have not small ships to send there, or any where else; not
in the proportion of one to five.</p>
<p id="id00243">You may communicate this to Mr. Addington, if you think that he does
not know it; but, to no one else, except Castelcicala, of what relates
to Naples.</p>
<p id="id00244">I have very flattering letters from the Grand Vizier, in the name of
the Sultan; and from Cadir, now Capitan Pacha.</p>
<h2 id="id00245" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTER L.</h2>
<p id="id00246" style="margin-top: 2em"> Victory, July 1st, 1804.</p>
<p id="id00247">Although I have wrote you, my dearest Emma, a letter, by Rosas, of
June 27th, not yet gone, the weather being so very bad, that ships
cannot get across the Gulph of Lyons, yet I will [not] miss the
opportunity of writing by Gibraltar.</p>
<p id="id00248">You must not, my Emma, think of hearing from me by way of Malta; it
takes as long to send a letter to Malta, as to England.</p>
<p id="id00249">The Monmouth, which you complain of not hearing by, I knew nothing of
her movements for some months before. The ships from Malta, with the
convoys, pick up our letters at Gibraltar. Therefore, do not hurt my
feelings, by telling me that I neglect any opportunity of writing.</p>
<p id="id00250">Your letters of April 13th, 22d, and May 13th, through Mr. Falconet,
came safe, a few days ago. Mr. Falconet is the French banker; and he
dare not buy a little macaroni for me, or let an Englishman into his
house.</p>
<p id="id00251">Gibbs is still at Palermo: I fancy, he will make a good thing of my
estate; however, I wish it was settled. He wrote me, a short time
since, that he wished I would give him a hint (but without noticing
that it came from him) that I thought Mrs. Græfer and her child had
better go to England; on pretence of educating her daughter, &c.</p>
<p id="id00252">But I would have nothing to do with any such recommendation. It would
end in her coming to me, in England; and saying, that she could not
live upon what she had, and that I advised her to come to England, or
she should not have thought of it.</p>
<p id="id00253">In short, Gibbs wants to remove her. He is afraid of his pocket, I
fancy; and the daughter is, I fancy, now in some seminary at Palermo,
at Gibbs's expence.</p>
<p id="id00254">I wrote him word, fully, I would advise no such thing; she was to form
her own judgment.</p>
<p id="id00255">What our friends are after at Naples, they best know. The poor King is
miserable at the loss of Acton.</p>
<p id="id00256">The Queen writes me about honest Acton, &c. &c. and I hear, that she
has been the cause of ousting him: and they say—her enemies—that her
conduct is all French. That, I do not believe; although she is likely
to be the dupe of French emigrés, who always beset her.</p>
<p id="id00257">I doubt much, my dear Emma, even her constancy of real friendship to
you; although, in my letter to Acton, which Mr. Elliot says he read to
her, I mentioned the obligations she was under to you, &c. &c. in very
strong terms.</p>
<p id="id00258">What could the name of the minister signify! It was the letter which
was wanted to the Prime-Minister.</p>
<p id="id00259">But, never mind; with prudence, we shall do very well.</p>
<p id="id00260">I have wrote to Davison, by land: who, I am very sorry for; but, he
never would take a friend's caution, and he has been severely bit.</p>
<p id="id00261">Your accounts of Merton delight me; and you will long ago have known,
that I have directed the bills for the alterations to be paid. I never
could have intended to have taken it from the hundred pounds a month.</p>
<p id="id00262">You will not hear of my making prize-money. I have not paid my
expences these last nine months.</p>
<p id="id00263">I shall expect to eat my Christmas dinner at Merton; unless those
events happen which I can neither foresee nor prevent.</p>
<p id="id00264">I am not well: and must have rest, for a few months, even should the
country [want me;] which, very likely, they will not. News, I can have
none. April 9th, Leviathan sailed; so government don't care much for
us.</p>
<p id="id00265">Kiss my dear Horatia, for me! I hope you will have her at Merton; and,
believe me, my dear Emma, that I am, for ever, as ever, your attached,
faithful, and affectionate,</p>
<p id="id00266"> NELSON & BRONTE.</p>
<h2 id="id00267" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTER LI.</h2>
<p id="id00268" style="margin-top: 2em"> Victory, August 12th, 1804.</p>
<p id="id00269">Although, my Dearest Emma, from the length of time my other letters
have been getting to you, I cannot expect that this will share a
better fate; yet, as the Childers is going to Rosas, to get us some
news from Paris—which is the only way I know of what is passing in
England—I take my chance of the post: but, I expect the Kent will
be in England before this letter; and by which ship I write to the
Admiralty relative to my health.</p>
<p id="id00270">Therefore, I shall only say, that I hope a little of your good
nursing, with ass's milk, will set me up for another campaign; should
the Admiralty wish me to return, in the spring, for another year: but,
I own, I think we shall have peace.</p>
<p id="id00271">The Ambuscade arrived this day fortnight, with our victuallers, &c.
and very acceptable they were. By her, I received your letters of May
14th, 22d, and 30th, <i>viâ</i> Lisbon; and, of April 9th, 18, 15th, May
10th, 18th, 29th, June 1st, 5th, through, I suppose, the Admiralty.</p>
<p id="id00272">The box you mention, is not arrived; nor have I a scrap of a pen from
Davison. The weather in the Mediterranean seems much altered. In July,
seventeen days the fleet was in a gale of wind.</p>
<p id="id00273">I have often wrote to Davison, to pay for all the improvements at
Merton. The new-building the chamber over the dining-room, you must
consider. The stair window, we settled, was not to be stopped up. The
underground passage will, I hope, be made; but I shall, please God,
soon see it all.</p>
<p id="id00274">I have wrote you, my dear Emma, about Horatia; but, by the Kent, I
shall write fully. May God bless you, my dearest best-beloved Emma!
and believe me, ever, your most faithful and affectionate</p>
<p id="id00275"> ————</p>
<p id="id00276">Kind love, and regards, to Mrs. Cadogan, and all friends. God bless
you, again and again!</p>
<h2 id="id00277" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTER LII.</h2>
<p id="id00278" style="margin-top: 2em"> Victory, August 20th, 1804.</p>
<h5 id="id00279">MY DEAREST EMMA,</h5>
<p id="id00280">The Kent left us three days ago; and, as the wind has been perfectly
fair since her departure, I think she will have a very quick passage,
and arrive long before this letter. But, as a ship is going to Rosas,
I will not omit the opportunity of writing through Spain; as, you say,
the letters all arrive safe.</p>
<p id="id00281">We have nothing but gales of wind; and I have had, for two days, fires
in the cabin, to keep out the very damp air.</p>
<p id="id00282">I still hope that, by the time of my arrival in England, we shall have
peace. God send it!</p>
<p id="id00283">I have not yet received your muff; I think, probably, I shall bring it
with me.</p>
<p id="id00284">I hope, Davison has done the needful, in paying for the alterations at
Merton. If not, it is now too late; and we will fix a complete plan,
and execute it next summer. I shall be clear of debt, and what I have
will be my own.</p>
<p id="id00285">God bless you! Amen. Amen.</p>
<p id="id00286">George Elliot goes to Malta, for a convoy to England, this day. If you
ever see Lord Minto, say so.</p>
<p id="id00287"> ————</p>
<h2 id="id00288" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTER LIII.</h2>
<p id="id00289" style="margin-top: 2em; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%"> Victory, August 31st, 1804—Say 30th, at Evening. Therefore, I
wrote, in fact, this Day, through Spain.</p>
<h5 id="id00290">MY EVER DEAREST EMMA,</h5>
<p id="id00291">Yesterday, I wrote to you, through Spain; this goes by Naples. Mr.
Falconet, I think, will send it; although, I am sure, he feels great
fear from the French minister, for having any thing to do with us.</p>
<p id="id00292">Mr. Greville is a shabby fellow! It never could have been the
intention of Sir William, but that you should have had seven hundred
pounds a year neat money; for, when he made the will, the Income Tax
was double to what it is at present; and the estate which it is paid
from is increasing every year in value.</p>
<p id="id00293">It may be law, but it is not just; nor in equity would, I believe, be
considered as the will and intention of Sir William. Never mind!
Thank God, you do not want any of his kindness; nor will he give you
justice.</p>
<p id="id00294">I may fairly say all this; because my actions are different, even to a
person who has treated me so ill.</p>
<p id="id00295">As to ——, I know the full extent of the obligation I owe him, and
he may be useful to me again; but I can never forget his unkindness to
you.</p>
<p id="id00296">But, I guess, many reasons influenced his conduct, in bragging of his
riches, and my honourable poverty; but, as I have often said, and with
honest pride, what I have is my own; it never cost the widow a tear,
or the nation a farthing. I got what I have with my pure blood, from
the enemies of my country. Our house, my own Emma, is built upon a
solid foundation; and will last to us, when his house and lands may
belong to others than <i>his children</i>.</p>
<p id="id00297">I would not have believed it, from any one but you! But, if ever I go
abroad again, matters shall be settled very differently.</p>
<p id="id00298">I am working hard with Gibbs about Bronte, but the calls upon me are
very heavy. Next September, I shall be clear; I mean, September 1805.</p>
<p id="id00299">I have wrote to both Acton and the Queen about you. I do not think she
likes Mr. Elliot; and, therefore, I wish she had never shewn him my
letters about you. We also know, that he has a card of his own to
play.</p>
<p id="id00300">Dr. Scott, who is a good man—although, poor fellow! very often wrong
in the head—is going with Staines, in, the Cameleon, just to take
a peep at Naples and Palermo. I have introduced him to Acton, who is
very civil to every body from me.</p>
<p id="id00301">The Admiralty proceedings towards me, you will know much sooner than
I shall. I hope they will do the thing, handsomely, and allow of my
return in the spring; but, I do not expect it.</p>
<p id="id00302">I am very uneasy at your and Horatia being on the coast: for you
cannot move, if the French make the attempt; which, I am told, they
have done, and been repulsed. Pray God, it may be true!</p>
<p id="id00303">I shall rejoice to hear you and Horatia are safe at Merton; and happy
shall I be, the day I join you. <i>Gannam Justem.</i></p>
<p id="id00304">Gaetano is very grateful for your remembrance of him. Mr. Chevalier is
an excellent servant. William says, he has wrote twice; I suppose, he
thinks that enough.</p>
<p id="id00305">This is written within three miles of the fleet in Toulon, who are
looking very tempting. Kind regards to Mrs. Cadogan, Charlotte, &c.
and compliments to all our joint friends; for they are no friends of
mine, who are not friends to Emma.</p>
<p id="id00306">God bless you, again and again!</p>
<p id="id00307">Captain Hardy has not been very well: and, I fancy, Admiral Murray
will not be sorry to see England; especially, since he has been
promoted * * * * * * * * * * * * * * he expects his flag may get up.</p>
<p id="id00308">God bless you, my dearest Emma; and, be assured, I am ever most
faithfully your's.</p>
<p id="id00309"> —————</p>
<h2 id="id00310" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTER LIV.</h2>
<p id="id00311" style="margin-top: 2em"> Victory, September 29th, 1804.</p>
<p id="id00312">This day, my dearest Emma, which gave me birth, I consider as more
fortunate than common days; as, by my coming into this world, it has
brought me so intimately acquainted with you, who my soul holds most
dear. I well know that you will keep it, and have my dear Horatia to
drink my health. Forty-six years of toil and trouble! How few more,
the common lot of mankind leads us to expect; and, therefore, it
is almost time to think of spending the few last years in peace and
quietness!</p>
<p id="id00313">By this time, I should think, either my successor is named, or
permission is granted me to come home; and, if so, you will not long
receive this letter before I make my appearance: which will make us, I
am sure, both truly happy.</p>
<p id="id00314">We have had nothing, for this fortnight, but gales of easterly winds,
and heavy rains; not a vessel of any kind, or sort, joined the fleet.</p>
<p id="id00315">I was in hopes Dr. Scott would have returned from Naples; and that I
could have told you something comfortable for you, from that quarter:
and it is now seven weeks since we heard from Malta. Therefore, I know
nothing of what is passing in the world.</p>
<p id="id00316">I would not have you, my dear Emma, allow the work of brick and mortar
to go on in the winter months. It can all be finished next summer;
when, I hope, we shall have peace, or such an universal war as will
upset that vagabond, Buonaparte.</p>
<p id="id00317">I have been tolerable well, till this last bad weather, which has
given me pains in my breast; but, never mind, all will be well when I
get to Merton.</p>
<p id="id00318">Admiral Campbell, who is on board, desires to be remembered to you.
He does not like much to stay here, after my departure. Indeed, we all
draw so well together in the fleet, that I flatter myself the sorrow
for my departure will be pretty general.</p>
<p id="id00319">Admiral Murray will be glad to get home; Hardy is as good as ever; and<br/>
Mr. Secretary Scott is an excellent man.<br/></p>
<p id="id00320">God bless you, my dearest Emma! and, be assured, I am ever your most
faithful and affectionate</p>
<p id="id00321"> N. & B.</p>
<p id="id00322">Kiss dear Horatia. I hope she is at Merton, <i>fixed</i>.</p>
<h2 id="id00323" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTER LV.</h2>
<p id="id00324" style="margin-top: 2em; margin-left: 2%; margin-right: 2%"> Victory, October 7, [1804.]
2 P.M.</p>
<p id="id00325">I wrote you, my Dearest Emma, this morning, by way of Lisbon; but
a boat, which is going to Torbay, having brought out a cargo of
potatoes, will I think get home before the Lisbon packet. I shall
only say—<i>Guzelle Gannam Justem</i>—and that I love you beyond all the
world! This may be read by French, Dutch, Spanish, or Englishmen; for
it comes from the heart of, my Emma, your faithful and affectionate</p>
<p id="id00326"> NELSON & BRONTE.</p>
<p id="id00327">I think the gentry will soon come out. I cannot say more by such a
conveyance.</p>
<h2 id="id00328" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTER LVI.</h2>
<p id="id00329" style="margin-top: 2em"> Victory, October 13, 1804.</p>
<h5 id="id00330">MY DEAREST EMMA,</h5>
<p id="id00331">The dreadful effects of the yellow fever, at Gibraltar, and many parts
of Spain, will naturally give you much uneasiness; till you hear
that, thank God, we are entirely free from it, and in the most perfect
health, not one man being ill in the fleet. The cold weather will, I
hope, cure the disorder.</p>
<p id="id00332">Whilst I am writing this letter, a cutter is arrived from England with
strong indications of a Spanish war.</p>
<p id="id00333">I hope, from my heart, that it will not prove one. But, however that
is, my die is cast; and, long before this time, I expect, another
Admiral is far on his way to supersede me. Lord Keith, I think a very
likely man.</p>
<p id="id00334">I should, for your sake, and for many of our friends, have liked an
odd hundred thousand pounds; but, never mind. If they give me the
choice of staying a few months longer, it will be very handsome; and,
for the sake of others, we would give up, my dear Emma, very much of
our own felicity. If they do not, we shall be happy with each other,
and with dear Horatia.</p>
<p id="id00335">The cutter returns with my answers directly; therefore, my own Emma,
you must only fancy all my thoughts and feelings towards you. They are
every thing which a fond heart can fancy.</p>
<p id="id00336">I have not a moment; I am writing and signing orders, whilst I am
writing to my own Emma.</p>
<p id="id00337">My life, my soul, God in Heaven bless you!</p>
<p id="id00338">Your letter is September 16th, your last is August 27th.</p>
<p id="id00339">I have not made myself understood, about Mrs. Bolton's money. You give
away <i>too</i> much.</p>
<p id="id00340">Kiss our dear Horatia a thousand times, for your own faithful Nelson.<br/>
I send two hundred pounds, keep it for your own pocket money.<br/></p>
<p id="id00341">You must tell Davison, and Haslewood, that I cannot answer their
letters. Linton cannot be fixed; but you will know whether I come
home, or stay, from Mr. Marsden.</p>
<p id="id00342">God bless you!</p>
<p id="id00343">Tell my brother, that I have made Mr. Yonge a Lieutenant, into the<br/>
Sea-horse frigate, Captain Boyle.<br/></p>
<p id="id00344">Once more, God bless my dearest Emma!</p>
<p id="id00345"> —————</p>
<p id="id00346">Write your name on the back of the bill, if you send any person for
the money.</p>
<p id="id00347">I have scrawled three lines to Davison, that he should not think I
neglected him in his confinement.</p>
<p id="id00348">I have received the inclosed from Allen. Can we assist the poor
foolish man with a <i>character</i>?</p>
<h2 id="id00349" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTER LVII.</h2>
<p id="id00350" style="margin-top: 2em"> Victory, November 23,1804.</p>
<p id="id00351">As all our communication with Spain is at an end, I can now only<br/>
expect to hear from my own dear Emma by the very slow mode of<br/>
Admiralty vessels, and it is now more than two months since the John<br/>
Bull sailed.<br/></p>
<p id="id00352">I much fear, something has been taken; for they never would, I am
sure, have kept me so long in the dark. However, by management, and a
portion of good luck, I got the account from Madrid in a much shorter
space of time than I could have hoped for; and I have set the whole
Mediterranean to work, and think the fleet cannot fail of being
successful: and, if I had had the spare troops at Malta at my
disposal, Minorca would at this moment have had English colours
flying.</p>
<p id="id00353">This letter, my dearest beloved Emma, goes—although in Mr. Marsden's
letter—such a roundabout way, that I cannot say all that my heart
wishes. Imagine every thing which is kind and affectionate, and you
will come near the mark.</p>
<p id="id00354">Where is my successor? I am not a little surprised at his not
arriving! A Spanish war, I thought, would have hastened him. Ministers
could not have thought that I wanted to fly the service, my whole
life has proved the contrary; and, if they refuse me now: I shall most
certainly leave this country in March or April; for a few months rest
I must have, very soon. If I am in my grave, what are the mines of
Peru to me!</p>
<p id="id00355">But, to say the truth, I have no idea of killing myself. I may, with
care, live yet to do good service to the state. My cough is very bad;
and my side, where I was struck on the 14th of February, is very
much swelled; at times, a lump as large as my fist, brought on,
occasionally, by violent coughing: but, I hope, and believe, my lungs
are yet safe.</p>
<p id="id00356">Sir William Bolton is just arrived from Malta. I am preparing to send
him a cruise, where he will have the best chance I can give him of
making ten thousand pounds. He is a very attentive, good, young man.</p>
<p id="id00357">I have not heard from Naples this age. I have, in fact, no small craft
to send for news.</p>
<p id="id00358">If I am soon to go home, I shall be with you before this letter.</p>
<p id="id00359">May God bless you!</p>
<p id="id00360">Thomson desires to be most kindly remembered to his dear wife and
children. He is most sincerely attached to them; and wishes to save
what he can for their benefit.</p>
<p id="id00361">As our means of communicating are cut off, I have only to beg that you
will not believe the idle rumours of battles, &c. &c. &c.</p>
<p id="id00362">May Heavens bless you! prays, fervently, my dear Emma, ever your most
faithful and affectionate</p>
<p id="id00363"> NELSON & BRONTE.</p>
<h2 id="id00364" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTER LVIII.</h2>
<p id="id00365" style="margin-top: 2em"> Victory, March 9th, 1805.</p>
<p id="id00366">I do assure you, my Dearest Emma, that nothing can be more miserable,
or unhappy, than your poor Nelson.</p>
<p id="id00367">From the 19th of February, have we been beating from Malta to off
Palma; where I am now anchored, the wind and sea being so very
contrary and bad. But I cannot help myself, and no one in the fleet
can feel what I do: and, to mend my fate, yesterday Captain Layman
arrived—to my great surprise—not in his brig, but in a Spanish
cartel; he having been wrecked off Cadiz, and lost all the dispatches
and letters.</p>
<p id="id00368">You will conceive my disappointment! It is now from November 2d, that<br/>
I have had a line from England.<br/></p>
<p id="id00369">Captain Layman says—he is sure the letters are sunk, never to rise
again; but, as they were not thrown overboard until the vessel struck
the rock, I have much fear that they may have fallen into the hands of
the Dons.</p>
<p id="id00370">My reports from off Toulon, state the French fleet as still in port;
but, I shall ever be uneasy at not having fallen in with them.</p>
<p id="id00371">I know, my dear Emma, that it is in vain to repine; but my feelings
are alive to meeting those fellows, after near two years hard service.</p>
<p id="id00372">What a time! I could not have thought it possible that I should have
been so long absent; unwell, and uncomfortable, in many respects.</p>
<p id="id00373">However, when I calculate upon the French fleet's not coming to sea
for this summer, I shall certainly go for dear England, and a thousand
[times] dearer Merton. May Heavens bless you, my own Emma!</p>
<p id="id00374">I cannot think where Sir William Bolton is got to; he ought to have
joined me, before this time.</p>
<p id="id00375">I send you a trifle, for a birth-day's gift. I would to God, I could
give you more; but, I have it not!</p>
<p id="id00376">I get no prize-money worth naming; but, if I have the good fortune
to meet the French fleet, I hope they will make me amends for all my
anxiety; which has been, and is, indescribable.</p>
<p id="id00377">How is my dear Horatia? I hope you have her under your guardian wing,
at Merton. May God bless her!</p>
<p id="id00378">Captain Layman is now upon his trial. I hope he will come clear, with
honour. I fear, it was too great confidence in his own judgment that
got him into the scrape; but it was impossible that any person living
could have exerted himself more, when in a most trying and difficult
situation.</p>
<p id="id00379"> March 10th.</p>
<p id="id00380">Poor Captain L. has been censured by the court: but, I have my own
opinion. I sincerely pity him; and have wrote to Lord Melville, and
Sir Evan Nepean, to try what can be done. All together, I am much
unhinged.</p>
<p id="id00381">To-morrow, if the wind lasts, I shall be off Toulon.</p>
<p id="id00382">Sir William Bolton is safe, I heard of him this morning. I hear, that
a ship is coming out for him; but, as this is only rumour, I cannot
keep him from this opportunity of being made post: and, I dare say, he
will cause, by his delay, such a tumble, that Louis's son, who I have
appointed to the Childers, will lose his promotion; and, then Sir
Billy will be wished at the devil! But, I have done with this subject;
the whole history has hurt me. Hardy has talked enough to him, to
rouze his lethargic disposition.</p>
<p id="id00383">I have been much hurt at the loss of poor Mr. Girdlestone! He was a
good man; but there will be an end of us all.</p>
<p id="id00384">What has Charles Connor been about? His is a curious letter! If he
does not drink, he will do very well. Captain Hilliar has been very
good to him.</p>
<p id="id00385">Colonel Suckling, I find, has sent his son to the Mediterranean;
taking him from the Narcissus, where I had been at so much pains to
place him. I know not where to find a frigate to place him. He never
will be so well and properly situated again. I am more plagued
with other people's business, or rather nonsense, than with my own
concerns,</p>
<p id="id00386">With some difficulty, I have got Suckling placed in the Ambuscade,
with Captain Durban, who came on board at the moment I was writing.</p>
<p id="id00387"> March 31st.</p>
<p id="id00388">The history of Suckling will never be done. I have this moment got
from him your letter, and one from his father. I shall say nothing to
him; I don't blame the child, but those who took [him] out of the most
desirable situation in the navy. He never will get into such another
advantageous ship: but, his father is a fool; and so, my dear Emma,
that <i>ends</i>.</p>
<p id="id00389">The box which you sent me in May 1804, is just arrived in the Diligent
store-ship.</p>
<p id="id00390">I have sent the arms to Palermo, to Gibbs. The clothes are very
acceptable; I will give you a kiss, for sending them.</p>
<p id="id00391">God bless you! Amen.</p>
<p id="id00392"> April 1st.</p>
<p id="id00393">I am not surprised that we should both think the same about the
kitchen; and, if I can afford it, I should like it to be done: but, by
the fatal example of poor Mr. Hamilton, and many others, we must take
care not to get into debt; for, then, we can neither help any of our
relations, and [must] be for ever in misery! But, of this, we [will]
talk more, when we walk upon the poop at Merton.</p>
<p id="id00394">Do you ever see Admiral and Mrs. Lutwidge? You will not forget me when
you do.</p>
<p id="id00395">To Mrs. Cadogan, say every thing that is kind; and to all our other
friends: and, be assured, I am, for ever and ever, your's, and only
your's,</p>
<p id="id00396"> NELSON & BRONTE.</p>
<p id="id00397">As I know that all the Mediterranean letters are cut and smoaked,
and perhaps read, I do not send you a little letter in this; but your
utmost stretch of fancy cannot imagine <i>more</i> than I feel towards my
own dear Emma.</p>
<p id="id00398">God bless you! <i>Amen.</i></p>
<h2 id="id00399" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTER LIX.</h2>
<p id="id00400" style="margin-top: 2em; margin-left: 2%; margin-right: 2%"> Victory, off Plymouth, September 17th,
[1805.] Nine o'Clock in the Morning.
Blowing fresh at W.S.W. dead foul
wind.</p>
<p id="id00401">I sent, my own Dearest Emma, a letter for you, last night, in a Torbay
boat, and gave the man a guinea to put it in the Post-Office.</p>
<p id="id00402">We have had a nasty blowing night, and it looks very dirty.</p>
<p id="id00403">I am now signalizing the ships at Plymouth to join me; but, I rather
doubt their ability to get to sea. However, I have got clear of
Portland, and have Cawsand Bay and Torbay under the lee.</p>
<p id="id00404">I intreat, my dear Emma, that you will chear up; and we will look
forward to many, many happy years, and be surrounded by our children's
children. God Almighty can, when he pleases, remove the impediment.</p>
<p id="id00405">My heart and soul is with you and Horatia.</p>
<p id="id00406">I got this line ready, in case a boat should get alongside.</p>
<p id="id00407">For ever, ever, I am your's, most devotedly,</p>
<p id="id00408"> NELSON & BRONTE.</p>
<p id="id00409">Mr. Rose said, he would write to Mr. Bolton, if I was sailed; but, I
have forgot to give him the direction: but I will send it, to-day. I
think, I shall succeed very soon, if not at this moment.</p>
<p id="id00410" style="margin-left: 2%; margin-right: 2%"> Wednesday, September 18th,
off the Lizard.</p>
<p id="id00411">I had no opportunity of sending your letter yesterday, nor do I see
any prospect at present. The Ajax and Thunderer are joining; but, it
is nearly calm, with a swell from the westward. Perseverance has got
us thus far; and the same will, I dare say, get us on.</p>
<p id="id00412">Thomas seems to do very well, and content.</p>
<p id="id00413">Tell Mr. Lancaster, that I have no doubt that his son will do very
well.</p>
<p id="id00414">God bless you, my own Emma!</p>
<p id="id00415">I am giving my letters to Blackwood, to put on board the first vessel
he meets going to England, or Ireland.</p>
<p id="id00416">Once more, Heavens bless you! Ever, for ever, your</p>
<p id="id00417"> NELSON & BRONTE.</p>
<h2 id="id00418" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTER LX.</h2>
<p id="id00419" style="margin-top: 2em"> Victory, October 1st, 1805.</p>
<h5 id="id00420">MY DEAREST EMMA,</h5>
<p id="id00421">It is a relief to me, to take up the pen, and write you a line; for I
have had, about four o'clock this morning, one of my dreadful spasms,
which has almost enervated me.</p>
<p id="id00422">It is very odd! I was hardly ever better than yesterday. Freemantle
stayed with me till eight o'clock, and I slept uncommonly well; but,
was awoke with this disorder. My opinion of its effect, some one day,
has never altered. However, it is entirely gone off, and I am only
quite weak. The good people of England will not believe, that rest of
body and mind is necessary for me! But, perhaps, this spasm may not
come again these six months. I had been writing seven hours yesterday;
perhaps, that had some hand in bringing it upon me.</p>
<p id="id00423">I joined the fleet late on the evening of the 28th of September, but
could not communicate with them until the next morning.</p>
<p id="id00424">I believe, my arrival was most welcome; not only to the commander of
the fleet, but also to every individual in it: and, when I came to
explain to them the <i>Nelson touch</i>, it was like an electric shock.
Some shed tears, all approved—"It was new, it was singular, it was
simple!" and, from Admirals downwards, it was repeated—"It must
succeed, if ever they will allow us to get at them! You are, my Lord,
surrounded by friends whom you inspire with confidence." Some may
be Judas's; but the majority are certainly much pleased with my
commanding them. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</p>
<h2 id="id00425" style="margin-top: 4em">SUPPLEMENT.</h2>
<h5 id="id00426">
<i>INTERESTING LETTERS</i>,</h5>
<h5 id="id00427">ELUCIDATORY</h5>
<h5 id="id00428">OF</h5>
<p id="id00429">Lord Nelson's Letters</p>
<h5 id="id00430">TO</h5>
<h5 id="id00431">LADY HAMILTON,</h5>
<p id="id00432">&c.</p>
<h5 id="id00433">VOL. II.</h5>
<h2 id="id00434" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTERS</h2>
<h5 id="id00435">FROM</h5>
<h5 id="id00436">LORD NELSON,</h5>
<h5 id="id00437">TO</h5>
<h5 id="id00438">MISS HORATIA NELSON THOMSON,</h5>
<h5 id="id00439">NOW</h5>
<h5 id="id00440">MISS HORATIA NELSON,</h5>
<p id="id00441">(<i>Lord Nelson's Adopted Daughter;</i>)</p>
<h5 id="id00442">AND</h5>
<h5 id="id00443">MISS CHARLOTTE NELSON,</h5>
<p id="id00444">(<i>Daughter of the present Earl.</i>)</p>
<p id="id00445" style="margin-top: 4em">Letters</p>
<h5 id="id00446">OF</h5>
<p id="id00447">LORD NELSON, &c.</p>
<h5 id="id00448">TO</h5>
<h5 id="id00449">MISS HORATIA NELSON THOMSON.</h5>
<p id="id00450" style="margin-top: 3em"> Victory, April 13th, 1804.</p>
<h5 id="id00451">MY DEAR HORATIA,</h5>
<p id="id00452">I send you twelve books of Spanish dresses, which you will let your
guardian angel, Lady Hamilton, keep for you, when you are tired
of looking at them. I am very glad to hear, that you are perfectly
recovered; and, that you are a very good child. I beg, my dear
Horatia, that you will always continue so; which will be a great
comfort to your most affectionate</p>
<p id="id00453"> NELSON & BRONTE.</p>
<h2 id="id00454" style="margin-top: 4em">TO MISS CHARLOTTE NELSON.</h2>
<p id="id00455" style="margin-top: 2em"> Victory, April 19th, 1804.</p>
<h5 id="id00456">MY DEAR CHARLOTTE,</h5>
<p id="id00457">I thank you very much for your kind letters of January 3d, and 4th;
and I feel truly sensible of your kind regard for that dear little
orphan, Horatia.</p>
<p id="id00458">Although her parents are lost; yet, she is not without a fortune: and,
I shall cherish her to the last moment of my life; and <i>curse</i>
them who <i>curse</i> her, and Heaven <i>bless</i> them who <i>bless</i> her! Dear
innocent! she can have injured no one.</p>
<p id="id00459">I am glad to hear, that she is attached to you; and, if she takes
after her parents, so she will, to those who are kind to her.</p>
<p id="id00460">I am, ever, dear Charlotte, your affectionate uncle,</p>
<p id="id00461"> NELSON & BRONTE.</p>
<h2 id="id00462" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTERS</h2>
<h5 id="id00463">FROM</h5>
<h5 id="id00464">ALEXANDER DAVISON, ESQ.</h5>
<h5 id="id00465">TO</h5>
<h5 id="id00466">LADY HAMILTON.</h5>
<p id="id00467" style="margin-top: 4em">LETTERS OF ALEX. DAVISON, ESQ. &c.</p>
<h2 id="id00468" style="margin-top: 4em">I.</h2>
<p id="id00469" style="margin-top: 2em"> [1804.]</p>
<h5 id="id00470">MY DEAR MADAM,</h5>
<p id="id00471">I have, equally with yourself, felt extremely uneasy all night,
thinking on <i>the</i> letter, which is a very serious one; and, until we
receive our next dispatches, I shall still feel every day more and
more anxious.</p>
<p id="id00472">I rely on that kind Providence, which has hitherto sheltered him under
every danger, upon the occasion.</p>
<p id="id00473">He was on the eve of engaging, for protection—and preservation—It
is, indeed, an anxious moment!</p>
<p id="id00474">I have long thought, a plan was in agitation regarding the Toulon
fleet being given up; but, whether it was in contemplation at the
period the last letter was written, I know not. I am rather disposed
to think otherwise.</p>
<p id="id00475">The next packet will explain the whole; and, I trust, will relieve our
minds of that burden, hardly supportable at present.</p>
<p id="id00476">I shall, this evening, go quietly into the country, and return to town
about noon to-morrow: as I require air, and a little relaxation; for I
am, actually, overpowered with business.</p>
<p id="id00477"> Your's, most truly,<br/>
ALEX. DAVISON.<br/>
Thursday Morning.<br/></p>
<h2 id="id00478" style="margin-top: 4em">II.</h2>
<p id="id00479" style="margin-top: 2em"> [1804,]</p>
<h5 id="id00480">MY DEAR MADAM,</h5>
<p id="id00481">Yesterday, I wrote to you just in time to save the post: but, whether
that letter, or even this, reach you, I have my doubts—if they do
not, you have only yourself to blame; for I cannot, for the soul of
me, make out the name of the place. You have been in such a hurry,
when writing it, that it really is not legible; and I do not
sufficiently know Norfolk, to guess at it.</p>
<p id="id00482">I did yesterday, as I shall this—imitate your writing, leaving it to
the Post-Office gentlemen to find it out.</p>
<p id="id00483">I acquainted you, that I would take care to obey your wishes, and hold
back your check on Coutts and Co. till such time as it would be quite
convenient to yourself, and you tell me to send it for payment.</p>
<p id="id00484">Your mind may be perfectly at ease on that score: as, indeed, it may
in every thing in which you have to do with me—though we do, now and
then, differ a little in trifles; but, not in essentials: having
one, only one, object in mind, that of the comforts, and ultimate
happiness, of our dear—<i>your</i> beloved Nelson; for whom, what would
you or I not do?</p>
<p id="id00485">What a world of matter is now in agitation! Every thing is big with
events; and soon, very soon, I hope to see—what I have long desired,
and anxiously [been] waiting for—an event to contribute to the glory,
the independency, of our Nelson.</p>
<p id="id00486">I still hope, ere Christmas, to see him: that hope founded on the
darling expectation of his squadron falling in with a rich <i>Spanish</i>
flotilla. I think, too, that the French fleet will <i>now</i> come out.</p>
<p id="id00487">I have written to our dear friend every information I have been able
to collect, and have sent him a continuation of all the newspapers.</p>
<p id="id00488">It affords me particular pleasure, to hear you feel so happy in
Norfolk. How is it possible it can be otherwise! seated, as you
are, in the midst of the friends of your best friend; enjoying every
kindness and attention in their power to shew to the favourite of
their brother.</p>
<p id="id00489">I shall be very much rejoiced, when you come back, to talk over very
interesting objects which our dear friend will <i>now</i> have to pursue.</p>
<p id="id00490">My best respects to your fire-side; and believe me, most sincerely,
your's,</p>
<h5 id="id00491"> ALEX. DAVISON.</h5>
<h2 id="id00492" style="margin-top: 4em">III.</h2>
<p id="id00493" style="margin-top: 2em"> Saturday, 22d September 1804.</p>
<h5 id="id00494">MY DEAR MADAM,</h5>
<p id="id00495">Ever obedient to your <i>lawful</i> commands, I have implicitly obeyed your
orders, in the purchase, this morning, of Messrs. Branscomb and Co.
four quarter lottery-tickets—</p>
<p id="id00496" style="margin-left: 2%; margin-right: 2%"> { No. 593.}
{ 10,376.}
{ 14,381.}
{ 20,457.}</p>
<p id="id00497">Each, I hope, will come up prize; and be entitled to receive, at
least, on the whole, twenty thousand pounds! I paid eighteen pounds
eight shillings for them; and I have written upon the back of
each—"<i>Property of Lord Nelson, 22d September 1804. A.D."</i></p>
<p id="id00498">When I have the pleasure of seeing you, I shall deliver the trust over
to you, to receive the <i>bespoken</i> said sum of twenty thousand pounds.
What a glorious receipt will it be!</p>
<p id="id00499">I am glad you received my letters, though I could not make out the
name of the place; the Post-Office runners are expert at it.</p>
<p id="id00500">What do you say to a Spanish war? I think, now, the breeze begins to
freshen; and that the flames, <i>at last</i>, will succeed.</p>
<p id="id00501">I sent off, last night, a very long epistle to our dear Nelson. I am
truly distressed at his not receiving my letters; though I can
pretty well guess how to account for it, and in whose hands they were
detained. Experience teaches us how better to guard against similar
misfortunes; and, in future, I shall be cautious to whom I give my
letters.</p>
<p id="id00502">So that I know the Hero of heroes is well, I care the less about
letters; knowing that writing, delivering, or receiving them, will
not, either in him or me, make the least alteration, or lessen our
attachment or affection.</p>
<p id="id00503">I am pleased to see how happy you are in Norfolk. I wish you may not
find it so fascinating, that the arrival of "Lord Nelson" at Merton
would not induce you to [quit] the county!!!</p>
<p id="id00504">I beg you will make my best respects acceptable to <i>every</i> friend
(real) of that invaluable man, Lord Nelson.</p>
<p id="id00505"> Your's, most truly,<br/>
ALEX. DAVISON.<br/></p>
<p id="id00506" style="margin-top: 4em">Letter</p>
<p id="id00507">from</p>
<p id="id00508">Lady Hamilton</p>
<h5 id="id00509">TO</h5>
<h5 id="id00510">ALEXANDER DAVISON, ESQ.</h5>
<h5 id="id00511">INCLOSING</h5>
<p id="id00512"><i>Her Ladyship's Verses on Lord Nelson</i>.</p>
<p id="id00513" style="margin-top: 4em">Letter OF Lady Hamilton, &c.</p>
<p id="id00514" style="margin-top: 2em"> Clarges Street,<br/>
[<i>26th January 1805.</i>]<br/></p>
<p id="id00515">I have been very ill, my Dear Sir; and am in bed with a cold, very bad
cold indeed! But, the moment I am better, I will call on you.</p>
<p id="id00516">I am invited to dine with Mr. Haslewood to-morrow, but fear I shall
not be able to go.</p>
<p id="id00517">I am very anxious about letters; but Admiral Campbell has told me, he
thinks my dear Lord will soon be at home. God grant! for, I think, he
might remove that stumbling-block, Sir John O! Devil take him!</p>
<p id="id00518">That <i>Polyphemus</i> should have been Nelson's: but, he is rich in great
and <i>noble deeds</i>; which t'other, poor devil! is not. So, let dirty
wretches get pelf, to comfort them; victory belongs to Nelson. Not,
but what I think money necessary for comforts; and, I hope, <i>our</i>,
<i>your's</i>, and <i>my</i> Nelson, will get a little, for all Master O.</p>
<p id="id00519">I write from bed; and you will see I do, by my scrawl.</p>
<p id="id00520">I send you some of my bad Verses on my soul's Idol.</p>
<p id="id00521">God bless you! Remember, you will soon be free; and let that cheer
you, that you will come out with even more friends than ever. I can
only say, I am your ever obliged, and grateful,</p>
<h5 id="id00522"> EMMA HAMILTON.</h5>
<p id="id00523">I long to see and know Nepean! Why will you not ask me to dine with,
him <i>en famille?</i></p>
<p id="id00524"> {Yes.}<br/>
{<i>A.D.</i>}<br/></p>
<p id="id00525"> * * * * *</p>
<h5 id="id00526">EMMA TO NELSON.</h5>
<p id="id00527"> I think, I have not lost my heart;<br/>
Since I, with truth, can swear,<br/>
At every moment of my life,<br/>
I feel my Nelson there!<br/></p>
<p id="id00528"> If, from thine Emma's breast, her heart<br/>
Were stolen or flown away;<br/>
Where! where! should she my Nelson's love<br/>
Record, each happy day?<br/></p>
<p id="id00529"> If, from thine Emma's breast, her heart<br/>
Were stolen or flown away;<br/>
Where! where! should she engrave, my Love!<br/>
Each tender word you say?<br/></p>
<p id="id00530"> Where! where! should Emma treasure up<br/>
Her Nelson's smiles and sighs?<br/>
Where mark, with joy, each secret look<br/>
Of love, from Nelson's eyes?<br/></p>
<p id="id00531"> Then, do not rob me of my heart,<br/>
Unless you first forsake it;<br/>
And, then, so wretched it would be,<br/>
Despair alone will take it.<br/></p>
<p id="id00532" style="margin-top: 4em">Letter</p>
<p id="id00533">from</p>
<p id="id00534">Lady Hamilton</p>
<h5 id="id00535">TO THE</h5>
<h5 id="id00536">RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY ADDINGTON,</h5>
<h5 id="id00537">NOW</h5>
<h5 id="id00538">VISCOUNT SIDMOUTH.</h5>
<p id="id00539" style="margin-top: 4em">Letter of Lady Hamilton, &c.</p>
<p id="id00540" style="margin-top: 2em"> April 13th. [1803.]</p>
<h5 id="id00541">SIR,</h5>
<p id="id00542">May I trouble you, and but for a moment, in consequence of my
irreparable loss; my ever-honoured husband, Sir William Hamilton,
being no more! I cannot avoid it, I am forced to petition for a
portion of his pension: such a portion as, in your wisdom and noble
nature, may be approved; and so represented to our most gracious
Sovereign, as being right. For, Sir, I am most sadly bereaved! I am
now in circumstances far below those in which the goodness of my dear
Sir William allowed me to move for so many years; and below those
becoming the relict of such a public minister, who was proved so very
long—no less than thirty-six years—and, all his life, honoured so
very much by the constant friendly kindness of the King and Queen
themselves: and, may I mention—what is well known to the then
administration at home—how I, too, strove to do all I could towards
the service of our King and Country. The fleet itself, I can truly
say, could not have got into <i>Sicily</i>, but for what I was happily able
to do with the Queen of Naples, and through her secret instructions so
obtained: on which depended the refitting of the fleet in Sicily; and,
with that, all which followed so gloriously at the Nile. These few
words, though seemingly much at large, may not be extravagant at all.
They are, indeed, true. I wish them to be heard, only as they can be
proved; and, being proved, may I hope for what I have now desired?</p>
<p id="id00543">I am, Sir, with respect more than I can well utter, your obedient
servant,</p>
<h5 id="id00544"> EMMA HAMILTON.</h5>
<p id="id00545" style="margin-top: 4em">Letters</p>
<h5 id="id00546">FROM</h5>
<h5 id="id00547">SIR WILLIAM HAMILTON, K.B.</h5>
<h5 id="id00548">TO</h5>
<h5 id="id00549">LADY HAMILTON.</h5>
<p id="id00550" style="margin-top: 4em">Letters OF SIR WILLIAM HAMILTON, K.B. <i>&c.</i></p>
<h2 id="id00551" style="margin-top: 4em">I.</h2>
<p id="id00552" style="margin-top: 2em"> Persano, [Wednesday]<br/>
Jan. 4, 1792.<br/></p>
<p id="id00553">We arrived here, yesterday, in little more than five hours, and had
nearly began with a disagreeable accident; for the King's horse took
fright at the guard, and his Majesty and horse were as near down as
possible. However, all ended well; and he was as gay as possible,
yesterday.</p>
<p id="id00554">Our first <i>chasse</i> has not succeeded; though there were two wolves,
and many wild boars, in the <i>Mena</i>: but the king would direct how we
should beat the wood, and began at the wrong end; by which the wolves
and boars escaped, and we remained without shooting power. However,
ten or twelve boars have been killed, some how or other, and some
large ones.</p>
<p id="id00555">The King's face is very long, at this moment; but, I dare say,
to-morrow's good sport will shorten it again.</p>
<p id="id00556">I was sorry, my dear Em. to leave you in affliction: you must harden
yourself to such little misfortunes as a temporary parting; but, I
cannot blame you for having a good and tender heart. Believe me, you
are in thorough possession of all mine, though I will allow it to be
rather tough.</p>
<p id="id00557">Let us study to make one another as comfortable as we can; and
"<i>banish sorrow, till to-morrow</i>:" and so on, every day.</p>
<p id="id00558">You are wise enough to see the line it is proper for you to take; and
have, hitherto, followed it most rigorously: and I can assure you,
that I have not the least doubt of your continuing in it.</p>
<p id="id00559">Amuse yourself as well as you can, as I am doing, whilst we are
separate; and the best news you can give me is, that you are well and
happy.</p>
<p id="id00560">My cold is already better for having passed the whole day in the open
air, and without human <i>seccatura</i>.</p>
<p id="id00561">Adieu! my dear, dear Emma. I am, with my love to your good mother,
your's ever, and faithfully,</p>
<h5 id="id00562"> W.H.</h5>
<h2 id="id00563" style="margin-top: 4em">II.</h2>
<p id="id00564" style="margin-top: 2em"> Persano, Thursday,<br/>
[Jan. 5th, 1792.]<br/></p>
<p id="id00565">We got home early, and I have not yet received your Daily Advertiser.</p>
<p id="id00566">No sport, again! In the midst of such a quantity of game, they have
contrived to carry him far off, where there is none. He has no other
comfort, to-day, than having killed a wild cat; and his face is a yard
long.</p>
<p id="id00567">However, his Majesty has vowed vengeance on the boars to-morrow, and
will go according to his own fancy; and, I dare say, there will be a
terrible slaughter.</p>
<p id="id00568">The last day, we are to keep all we kill; and, I suppose, it will be
night before we get home.</p>
<p id="id00569">Yesterday, the courier brought the order of St. Stephano, from the
Emperor, for the Prince Ausberg, and the King was desired to invest
him with it. As soon as the King received it, he ran into the Prince's
room; whom he found in his shirt, and without his breeches: and,
in that condition, was he decorated with the star and ribbon by his
Majesty, who has wrote the whole circumstance to the Emperor.</p>
<p id="id00570">Leopold may, perhaps, not like the joking with his first order. Such
nonsense should, certainly, be done with solemnity; or it becomes,
what it really is, a little tinsel, and a few yards of broad ribbon.</p>
<p id="id00571">The Prince, <i>entre nous</i>, is not very wise; but he is a good creature
and we are great friends.</p>
<p id="id00572">I have wrote to Mrs. Dickinson. I forget whether you have, or not: if
not, pray do it soon; for, you know, she is a good friend of your's.</p>
<p id="id00573">I have just received your good letter. I am glad they have taken the
Guarda patana's son-in-law. I insist upon Smith's letting the Regent
of the Vicaria know of his having stabbed my porter. He ought to go
to the gallies; and my honour is concerned, if this insult offered my
livery is unnoticed. The girl had better cry, than be ill-used, and
her father killed.</p>
<p id="id00574">Adieu, my sweet Em. Your's, with all my heart,</p>
<h5 id="id00575"> W.H.</h5>
<h2 id="id00576" style="margin-top: 4em">III.</h2>
<p id="id00577" style="margin-top: 2em"> Persano, Friday Evening.<br/>
[Jan. 6th, 1792.]<br/></p>
<p id="id00578">I Inclose our friend Knight's admirable letter to you. I could not
refrain reading it; and, I am sure, it was his intention I should do
so, having left it unsealed. He is a fine fellow; it was worth going
to England, to secure such a sensible friend.</p>
<p id="id00579">You will probably have seen General Werner last night; this is Friday
night, and he will have told you I am well.</p>
<p id="id00580">We have been out all day in the rain; I killed none, and the King and
party but few. Such obstinate bad weather I really never experienced,
for so long a time together.</p>
<p id="id00581">You did perfectly right in buying the lamps; and I am glad the Prince
asked to dine with you. I am sure, he was comfortably received by you.</p>
<p id="id00582">You see what devils [there are] in England! They wanted to stir
up something against me; but our conduct shall be such as to be
unattackable: and I fear not an injustice from England. Twenty-seven
years service—having spent all the King's money, and all my own,
besides running in debt, deserves something better than a dismission!</p>
<p id="id00583">The King has declared, he will return to Naples next Saturday
se'n-night; so you know the worst, my dear Emma. Indeed, I shall
embrace you most cordially; for I would not be married to any woman,
but yourself, on earth, for all the world.</p>
<p id="id00584">Lord A. Hamilton's son, you see, recommends a friend of his; who, I
suppose, is arrived: if so, receive him well.</p>
<p id="id00585">Adieu, again! Your's, ever,</p>
<h5 id="id00586"> W.H.</h5>
<h2 id="id00587" style="margin-top: 4em">IV.</h2>
<p id="id00588" style="margin-top: 2em"> Persano, Saturday Night,<br/>
[January 7th, 1792.]<br/></p>
<p id="id00589">This has been one of the cruel days which attend the King's <i>chasse</i>.<br/>
All the posts—except the King's, Prince Ausberg, D'Onerato, and<br/>
Priori—bad.<br/></p>
<p id="id00590">We have been out all day, in cold rain, without seeing a boar. The
King has killed twenty-five, and a wolf; and the other good posts, in
proportion.</p>
<p id="id00591">Why not rather leave us at home, than go out with the impossibility of
sport? But we must take the good and bad, or give it up.</p>
<p id="id00592">Lamberg is too delicate for this business; he has been in bed, with a
slight fever, all to-day.</p>
<p id="id00593">You will have another boar, to-day; which boar being a <i>sow</i>, I have
made a <i>bull</i>! The sows are much better than the boars; so you may
keep some to eat at home, and dispose of the rest to your favourite
English.</p>
<p id="id00594">I am glad all goes on so well. I never doubted your gaining every soul
you approach.</p>
<p id="id00595">I am far from being angry at your feeling the loss of me so much!
Nay, I am flattered; but, believe me, the time will soon come, that we
shall meet. Years pass seemingly in an instant; why, then, afraid of a
few days?</p>
<p id="id00596">Upon the whole, we are sociable here; but we go to bed at nine, and
get up at five o'clock. I generally read an hour, to digest my supper;
but, indeed, I live chiefly on bread and butter.</p>
<p id="id00597">Salandra desires his compliments to you, as does Lamberg and Prince<br/>
Ausberg.<br/></p>
<p id="id00598">Adieu, my dear Emma! Ever your's, and your's alone,</p>
<h5 id="id00599"> W.H.</h5>
<p id="id00600" style="margin-top: 2em">I send you back your two letters. Dutens was very satisfactory. I send
the papers to Smith; who will give them to you first, if you have not
read them.</p>
<p id="id00601">The cold and fatigue makes my hand something like your's—which, by
the bye, you neglect rather too much: but, as what you write is good
sense, every body will forgive the scrawl.</p>
<h2 id="id00602" style="margin-top: 4em">V.</h2>
<p id="id00603" style="margin-top: 2em"> Sunday Night, [Jan. 8th, 1792.]</p>
<p id="id00604">We are come in late; and I have but a moment to tell you we are well,
and I have killed three large boars, a fox, and four woodcocks.</p>
<p id="id00605">Nothing pleases me more, than to hear you do not neglect your singing.<br/>
It would be a pity, as you are near the point of perfection.<br/></p>
<p id="id00606">Adieu, my dearest Emma! Your's, with my whole soul,</p>
<h5 id="id00607"> W.H.</h5>
<h2 id="id00608" style="margin-top: 4em">VI.</h2>
<p id="id00609" style="margin-top: 2em"> Persano, [Monday]<br/>
January 10th, [9th] 1792.<br/></p>
<p id="id00610">Your letter of yesterday, my Sweet Em. gave me great pleasure; as, I
see, all goes on perfectly right for you at Naples.</p>
<p id="id00611">Your business, and mine, is to be civil to all, and not enter into any
party matters. If the Wilkinsons are not content with our civilities,
let them help themselves.</p>
<p id="id00612">We have had a charming day, and most excellent sport. More than a
hundred wild boars, and two wolves, have fallen. I killed five boars,
truly monsters! and a fox.</p>
<p id="id00613">Vincenzo could not follow me to-day; he cannot walk two steps, without
being out of breath. However, I load the guns myself; and, with the
peasant I brought from Caserta, and another I hire here, I do very
well. I fear, poor Vincenzo will not hold long. If he chooses it, I
mean to send him to Naples, to consult Noody [Nudi.]</p>
<p id="id00614">General Werner, Prince of Hesse, and Count Zichare, are here since
last night; they brought me your compliments. Lamberg is still
confined.</p>
<p id="id00615">Amuse yourself, my dearest Emma, and never doubt of my love. Your's,
ever,</p>
<h5 id="id00616"> W.H.</h5>
<h2 id="id00617" style="margin-top: 4em">VII.</h2>
<p id="id00618" style="margin-top: 2em"> Persano, [Tuesday]<br/>
Jan. 10th, 1792.<br/></p>
<p id="id00619">The day has been so thoroughly bad, that we have not been able to stir
out; and the King, of course, in bad humour. I am not sorry to have a
day's repose, and I have wrote my letters for to-morrow's post.</p>
<p id="id00620">Lamberg is still in bed with a fever, and Prince Ausberg's eyes are
a little inflamed with cold and fatigue. My cold was renewed a little
yesterday; but a good night's rest, and quiet to-day, has set all to
rights again.</p>
<p id="id00621">Vincenzo was so bad, yesterday, that he could not follow me, and was
blooded. He is better, to-day; but he will never serve more, except to
load my guns at the post. He cannot walk a mile, without being out of
breath.</p>
<p id="id00622">I am glad you have been at the Academy, and in the great world. It is
time enough for you to find out, that the only real comfort is to be
met with at home; I have been in that secret some time.</p>
<p id="id00623">You are, certainly, the most domestic young woman I know: but you are
young, and most beautiful; and it would not be natural, if you did not
like to shew yourself a little in public.</p>
<p id="id00624">The effusion of tenderness, with regard to me, in your letter, is very
flattering; I know the value of it, and will do all I can to keep it
alive. We are now one flesh, and it must be our study to keep that
flesh as warm and comfortable as we can. I will do all in my power to
please you, and I do not doubt of your doing the same towards me.</p>
<p id="id00625">Adieu, my dearest Emma! Having nothing interesting to write, and as
you insist upon hearing from me every day, you must content yourself
with such a stupid letter as this.</p>
<p id="id00626">Your Ladyship's commands shall always be punctually obeyed by, dear<br/>
Madam, your Ladyship's most obedient and faithful servant,<br/></p>
<h5 id="id00627"> W. HAMILTON.</h5>
<h2 id="id00628" style="margin-top: 4em">VIII.</h2>
<p id="id00629" style="margin-top: 2em"> Persano, Wednesday,<br/>
11th Jan. [1792.]<br/></p>
<p id="id00630">I have just received your letter—and, as I always do—with infinite
pleasure.</p>
<p id="id00631">I hope you received twelve wood-biddies, to-day; and, to-morrow, you
will have a wild boar: all left to your discretion.</p>
<p id="id00632">No talk of returning, yet. We must complete sixteen days shooting, and
one day has been lost by bad weather.</p>
<p id="id00633">We had a good day, and tolerable sport. I have killed two, and one the
largest boar I have seen yet here.</p>
<p id="id00634">Vincenzo, they say, will be well in a day or two, as it is only a
cold; I fear, it is more serious.</p>
<p id="id00635">The King has killed twenty-one boars to-day, and is quite happy.</p>
<p id="id00636">The Germans all drink tea with me every evening. Lamberg is better.</p>
<p id="id00637">Adieu, my ever dear Emma! We are always in a hurry; though we have,
absolutely, nothing to do, but kill, examine, and weigh, wild boars.</p>
<p id="id00638">I assure you, that I shall rejoice when I can embrace you once more. A
picture would not content me; your image is more strongly represented
on my heart, than any that could be produced by human art.</p>
<p id="id00639">Your most affectionate husband,</p>
<h5 id="id00640"> W.H.</h5>
<h2 id="id00641" style="margin-top: 4em">IX.</h2>
<p id="id00642" style="margin-top: 2em"> Persano, Thursday Night,<br/>
[Jan. 12th, 1792.]<br/></p>
<p id="id00643">Never put yourself in a hurry, my dear Emma.</p>
<p id="id00644">I have got your two kind letters. Send for Gasparo; and give your
orders, that the servants attend your call: and let him discharge
them, if they do not. You are my better half, and may command.
Translate this part of the letter to him.</p>
<p id="id00645">We have had good sport to-day, though the bad weather came on at
eleven o'clock. Fifty-four wild boars have been killed, I had seven
shot; and killed five, three of which are enormous. Dispose of the
boar I send you to-day as you think proper.</p>
<p id="id00646">I always thought Ruspoli a dirty fellow; but what has he done of late?</p>
<p id="id00647">As to your mother's going with you to the English parties, very well;
but, believe me, it will be best for her, and more to her happiness,
to stay at home, than go with you to the Neapolitan parties.</p>
<p id="id00648">The King is in good humour to-day, as I foretold. We continue to dine
at eight at night, and have nothing from breakfast to that hour. But
I give tea and bread and butter, of which Prince Ausberg and Lamberg
partake with pleasure. The Prince, having no opportunity of making
love, does nothing but talk of his new flame, which is Lady A. Hatton.
I put him right; for he thought she spelt her name with two <i>rr</i>,
instead of two <i>tt</i>.</p>
<p id="id00649">I rejoice at your having Aprile again; pray, tell him so: for I know
the rapid progress you will make under his care.</p>
<p id="id00650">My cold is near gone. The worst is, my room smokes confoundedly; and
so do all the other rooms, except the King's.</p>
<p id="id00651">Adieu, my dear Emma! Amuse yourself as well as you can; and believe
me, ever, your's alone, with the utmost confidence,</p>
<h5 id="id00652"> W.H.</h5>
<h2 id="id00653" style="margin-top: 4em">X.</h2>
<p id="id00654" style="margin-top: 2em"> Persano, Friday Night,<br/>
[Jan. 13th, 1792.]<br/></p>
<p id="id00655">We have had a miserable cold day, but good sport. I killed two boars,
and a doe; the King, nineteen boars, two stags, two does, and a
porcupine. He is happy beyond expression.</p>
<p id="id00656">I send you Charles's letter; but do not lose it, as I will answer it
when I return. You see, the line we have taken will put it out of the
power of our enemies to hurt us. I will give up my judgment of worldly
matters to no one.</p>
<p id="id00657">I approve of all you do in my absence; but it would be nonsense,
and appear affected, to carry your scruples too far. Divert yourself
reasonably. I am sure of your attachment to me, and I shall not easily
be made to alter my opinion of you.</p>
<p id="id00658">My cold is better, notwithstanding the weather.</p>
<p id="id00659">I have no time to <i>in'gler</i>; so, adieu! my dearest wife.</p>
<p id="id00660">Your's,</p>
<h5 id="id00661"> W.H.</h5>
<p id="id00662"><i>P.S.</i> Let Gasparo pay thirty ducats, for the vase, to D. Andrea.</p>
<p id="id00663">By way of charity, we may give thirty ounces to that shabby dog,
Hadrava; though he knows the picture is not worth more than ten at
most. His writing to you in such a stile is pitiful indeed. You will
often have such letters, if you do not tell him, now, that it is for
once and all.</p>
<h2 id="id00664" style="margin-top: 4em">XI.</h2>
<p id="id00665" style="margin-top: 2em; margin-left: 2%; margin-right: 2%"> Persano, Saturday,
14th Jan. [1792.]</p>
<h5 id="id00666">MY DEAR EMMA,</h5>
<p id="id00667">I have received a letter from Douglass; with one inclosed, from Mr.<br/>
Durno; who, to my surprise, says, he has not received my order on<br/>
Biddulph, Cockes, and Co. for one thousand five hundred and ninety<br/>
pounds; which, you know, I sent from Caserta.<br/></p>
<p id="id00668">I find, in my book of letters, 20th of December, that I wrote, that
day, a letter to Mr. Burgess, to deliver to Messieurs Biddulph and
Co.—to Lord Abercorn—and to Mr. Durno, with the order inclosed.</p>
<p id="id00669">Pray, send for Smith; and ask him, if he remembers having put such
letters in the post, and let him inquire at the Naples post about
them: and let him send the inclosed, by Tuesday's post, to Rome.</p>
<p id="id00670">I certainly will not give another order until this matter is cleared
up. I fear some roguery.</p>
<p id="id00671">We have had a fine day, and killed numberless boars; a hundred
and fifty, at least. I have killed four, out of six shot; and am
satisfied, as one is a real monster—the King, thirty—D'Onerato,
eighteen,—and so on, the favoured shooters.</p>
<p id="id00672">Vincenzo is rather better, but not able to serve me.</p>
<p id="id00673">My best compliments to Alexander Hamilton. You did well, to invite<br/>
Copley.<br/></p>
<p id="id00674">Adieu! my sweet Em. Ever your's, in deed and in truth,</p>
<h5 id="id00675"> W.H.</h5>
<h2 id="id00676" style="margin-top: 4em">XII.</h2>
<p id="id00677" style="margin-top: 2em"> Persano, Sunday,<br/>
Jan. 15, 1792.<br/></p>
<p id="id00678">You did admirably, my Dear Em. in not inviting Lady A.H. to dine with
the Prince; and still better, in telling her, honestly, the reason. I
have always found, that going straight is the best method, though not
the way of the world.</p>
<p id="id00679">You did, also, very well, in asking Madame Skamouski; and not taking
upon you to present her, without leave.</p>
<p id="id00680">In short, consult your own good sense, and do not be in a hurry; and,<br/>
I am sure, you will always act right.<br/></p>
<p id="id00681">We have been at it again, this morning, and killed fifty boars; but
were home to dinner, at one o'clock: and this is the first dinner
I have had, since I left you; for I cannot eat meat breakfasts or
suppers, and have absolutely lived on bread and butter and tea.</p>
<p id="id00682">As the Prince asked you, you did well to send for a song to<br/>
Douglass's; but, in general, you will do right to sing only at home.<br/></p>
<p id="id00683">The King is very kind to me, and shews every one that he really loves
me: and he commends my shooting; having missed but very few, and
killed the largest of the society. Only think of his not being
satisfied with killing more than thirty, yesterday! He said, if the
wind had favoured him, he should have killed sixty at least.</p>
<p id="id00684">We must be civil to Mr. Hope, as recommended by Lord Auckland; and
also to Monsieur de Rochement, and Prince Bozatinsky, as recommended
by my friend Saussure. I inclose his letter, as you are mentioned in
it; also Knight's, as you desire. God knows, we have no secrets; nor,
I hope, ever shall.</p>
<p id="id00685">We have much business between this and Saturday: and we are to shoot,<br/>
Saturday morning; so that we shall arrive late.<br/></p>
<p id="id00686">What say you to a feet washing that night? <i>O che Gusto</i>! when your
<i>prima ora</i> is over, and all gone.</p>
<p id="id00687">Adieu, my sweet Emma! Ever your's,</p>
<h5 id="id00688"> W.H.</h5>
<h2 id="id00689" style="margin-top: 4em">XIII.</h2>
<p id="id00690" style="margin-top: 2em"> Persano, Monday Night,<br/>
[Jan. 16th, 1792.]<br/></p>
<p id="id00691">For your long and interesting letter, I can only write a line, to tell
you I am well.</p>
<p id="id00692">We have been out, till an hour in the night, from day-break; and I
have fired off my gun but once, having had a bad post. The King, and
favoured party, have diverted themselves. To-morrow will, probably, be
a good day for me.</p>
<p id="id00693">Pray, let Smith get orders for the Museum, &c. for Lord Boyle and Mr.<br/>
Dodge, as they are recommended by Mr. Eden.<br/></p>
<p id="id00694">Adieu, my lovely Emma! Let them all roll on the carpet, &c. provided
you are not of the party. My trust is in you alone.</p>
<p id="id00695">Your's, ever,</p>
<h5 id="id00696"> W.H.</h5>
<h2 id="id00697" style="margin-top: 4em">XIV.</h2>
<p id="id00698" style="margin-top: 2em"> Persano, Tuesday Night,<br/>
[Jan. 17, 1792.]<br/></p>
<p id="id00699">I told you, my Dear Em. that I expected good sport to-day! I have
killed five boars, and two great ones got off after falling; two
bucks; six does; and a hare: fourteen in all.</p>
<p id="id00700">By the bye, I must tell you, that <i>accept</i> and <i>except</i> are totally
different. You always write—"I did not <i>except</i> of the invitation;"
when, you know, it should be "<i>accept</i>." It is, only, for want of
giving yourself time to think; but, as this error has been repeated, I
thought best to tell you of it.</p>
<p id="id00701">Pray, write a very kind letter to our friend the Archbishop; and
convince him, that Emma, to her friends, is unalterable. Do not say a
word about the telescope; for, I must try it, first, against mine. If
it should be better, I cannot part with it, as you know how much use
we make of a telescope.</p>
<p id="id00702">The King has killed eighty-one animals, of one sort or other, to-day;
and, amongst them, a wolf, and some stags. He fell asleep in the
coach; and, waking, told me he had been dreaming of shooting. One
would have thought, he had shed blood enough.</p>
<p id="id00703">This is a heavy air; nobody eats with appetite, and many are ill with
colds.</p>
<p id="id00704">We shall be home on Saturday; and, indeed, my sweet Emma, I shall be
most happy to see you.</p>
<p id="id00705">To-morrow, we go to a mountain; but no great expectation of sport.</p>
<p id="id00706">Your's, ever, my dear wife,</p>
<h5 id="id00707"> W.H.</h5>
<h2 id="id00708" style="margin-top: 4em">XV.</h2>
<p id="id00709" style="margin-top: 2em"> Persano, Wednesday,<br/>
[Jan. 18th, 1792.]<br/></p>
<p id="id00710">It was not your white and silver, alone, that made you look like an
angel, at the Academy. Suppose you had put it on nine parts out of ten
of the ladies in company, would any one have appeared angelic?</p>
<p id="id00711">I will allow, however, that a beautiful woman, feeling herself well
dressed, will have a sort of confidence, which will add greatly to the
lustre of her eye: but take my word, that, for some years to come,
the more simply you dress, the more conspicuous will be your beauty;
which, according to my idea, is the most perfect I have yet met with,
take it all in all.</p>
<p id="id00712">It is long-faced day with the King. We went far; the weather was bad;
and, after all, met with little or no game: I did not fire off my gun.</p>
<p id="id00713">Yesterday, when we brought home all we killed, it filled the house,
completely; and, to-day, they are obliged to white-wash the walls, to
take away the blood. There were more than four hundred; boars, deer,
stags, and all.</p>
<p id="id00714">To-morrow, we are to have another slaughter; and not a word of reason
or common sense do I meet with, the whole day, till I retire to my
volumes of the old Gentleman's Magazine, which just keeps my mind from
starving.</p>
<p id="id00715">Except to-day, on a mountain, I have never felt the least appetite;
there, I eat the wings of a cold chicken with pleasure.</p>
<p id="id00716">Hamilton is delighted with your civilities. He has wrote me a long
letter. I do not mean to keep pace with him in writing; so, send him a
line or two, only, in answer.</p>
<p id="id00717">I do not recollect the name of Marino Soolania; and, if I received a
letter from him, it was in the hurry of my arrival, and is lost: so
that Smith may desire the Dutch Consul to desire him to write again,
and I will answer.</p>
<p id="id00718">I always rejoice when I find you do not neglect your singing. I am, I
own, ambitious of producing something extraordinary in you, and it is
nearly done.</p>
<p id="id00719">Adieu! my sweet Em. I rejoice that the time of our re-union is so
near—<i>Saturday night</i>!</p>
<h5 id="id00720"> W.H.</h5>
<h2 id="id00721" style="margin-top: 4em">XVI.</h2>
<p id="id00722" style="margin-top: 2em; margin-left: 2%; margin-right: 2%"> Venasso, Friday,
27th January 1794.</p>
<h5 id="id00723">MY DEAR EM.</h5>
<p id="id00724">By having grumbled a little, I got a better post to-day; and have
killed two boars and a sow, all enormous. I have missed but two shot
since I came here; and, to be sure, when the post is good, it is noble
shooting! The rocks, and mountains, as wild as the boars.</p>
<p id="id00725">The news you sent me, of poor Lord Pembroke, gave me a little twist;
but I have, for some time, perceived, that my friends, with whom I
spent my younger days, have been dropping around me.</p>
<p id="id00726">Lord Pembroke's neck was very short, and his father died of an
apoplexy.</p>
<p id="id00727">My study of antiquities, has kept me in constant thought of the
perpetual fluctuation of every thing. The whole art is, really, to
live all the <i>days</i> of our life; and not, with anxious care, disturb
the sweetest hour that life affords—which is, the present! Admire
the Creator, and all his works, to us incomprehensible: and do all
the good you can upon earth; and take the chance of eternity, without
dismay.</p>
<p id="id00728">You must tell the Archbishop, that he will have the Leyden gazettes
a week later; as I cannot read them time enough to send by this
messenger.</p>
<p id="id00729">The weather is delightful; and, I believe, we shall have done all our
business, so as to return on Thursday.</p>
<p id="id00730">Pray, find out if the Queen goes to Caserta. Here, all is a profound
secret.</p>
<p id="id00731">I must work hard, myself, at translating, when I return; for I believe
the language-master totally incapable of it.</p>
<p id="id00732">I dined, this morning, at nine o'clock; and, I think, it agreed better
with me than tea. I found myself growing weak, for want of a good
meal, not daring to eat much at supper.</p>
<p id="id00733">Adieu, my sweet love! adieu. Divert yourself—I shall soon be at you
again. Your's, ever,</p>
<h5 id="id00734"> W.H.</h5>
<h2 id="id00735" style="margin-top: 4em">XVII.</h2>
<p id="id00736" style="margin-top: 2em"> Burford, Eighty Miles from London.<br/>
Saturday Night, [July 27th, 1801.]<br/></p>
<p id="id00737">Here we are, my Dear Emma, after a pleasant day's journey! No
extraordinary occurrence. Our chaise is good, and would have held the
famous "<i>Tria juncta in Uno</i>," very well: but, we must submit to the
circumstances of the times.</p>
<p id="id00738">Sir Joseph Bankes we found in bed with the gout: and, last night, his
hot-house was robbed of its choicest fruit—peaches and nectarines.</p>
<p id="id00739">Amuse yourself as well as you can; and you may be assured, that I
shall return as soon as possible, and you shall hear from me often.</p>
<p id="id00740">Ever your's, my dear Emma, with the truest affection,</p>
<p id="id00741"> Wm. HAMILTON.</p>
<p id="id00742">My kindest love to my Lord, if he is not gone.</p>
<p id="id00743"><i>P.S.</i> Corn, at this market, fell fifteen pounds a load to-day.</p>
<p id="id00744" style="margin-top: 4em">Letters</p>
<h5 id="id00745">FROM</h5>
<h5 id="id00746">SIR WILLIAM HAMILTON, K.B.</h5>
<h5 id="id00747">TO</h5>
<h5 id="id00748">LORD NELSON.</h5>
<p id="id00749" style="margin-top: 4em">Letters OF SIR WILLIAM HAMILTON, K.B. &c.</p>
<h4 id="id00750" style="margin-top: 2em">I.</h4>
<p id="id00751">[<i>Written before LORD NELSON'S Elevation to the Peerage.</i>]</p>
<p id="id00752"> Naples, March 26th, 1796.</p>
<h5 id="id00753"> MY DEAR SIR,</h5>
<p id="id00754">The moment I received your letter of the 11th of March from Leghorn,
I went with it to General Acton: and, although I could not, from your
letter only, in my Ministerial character, demand from this Court
the assistance of some of their xebecs, corvettes, &c. that are the
fittest for going near shore; as I think, with you, that such
vessels are absolutely necessary on the present occasion, I told his
Excellency—that I trusted, as this government had hitherto shewn
itself as sanguine in the good cause, and more so, than any of the
allies of Great Britain, that he would lay your letter before the King
at Naples; and, without waiting for the demand which I should probably
receive soon from Sir John Jervis, send you such small armed vessels
as his Excellency thought would be proper for the service on which you
are employed.</p>
<p id="id00755">The General, without hesitation, said—that orders should be
immediately given for the preparing of such a flotilla, which should
join you as soon as the weather would permit. At present, indeed, it
is not very encouraging for row-boats.</p>
<p id="id00756">We wait a courier from Vienna, to decide the march of eight thousand
eight hundred infantry, and artillery included, intended to join the
Emperor's army in Italy: and, although the Grand Duke of Tuscany
has refused the permission for these troops to march through his
dominions, the King of Naples has told his son-in-law that, whenever
the safety of Italy should require it, he would, nevertheless, march
them through Tuscany; a liberty which the Emperor would likewise take,
whenever the good of the service required it.</p>
<p id="id00757">However, the thousand cavalry sent from hence have taken their route,
by Loretto, through the Pope's state.</p>
<p id="id00758">We have had, as I suppose you know, the Admirals Hotham and Goodall
here, for some weeks. I can, <i>entre nous</i>, perceive that my old friend
Hotham is not quite awake enough for such a command as that of the
King's fleet in the Mediterranean, although he appears the best
creature imaginable.</p>
<p id="id00759">I did not know much of your friend Lord Hood, personally; but, by
his correspondence with me, his activity and clearness was most
conspicuous.</p>
<p id="id00760">Lady Hamilton and I admire your constancy, and hope the severe service
you have undergone will be handsomely rewarded.</p>
<p id="id00761">When I reported to Lord Grenville, in my last dispatch, the letter I
received from you lately, I could not help giving you the epithet of
"<i>that</i> <i>brave officer, Captain Nelson.</i>" If you do not deserve it, I
know not who does.</p>
<p id="id00762">With our love to Sam, I am, ever, dear Sir, your's, sincerely,</p>
<p id="id00763"> Wm. HAMILTON.</p>
<h2 id="id00764" style="margin-top: 4em">II.</h2>
<p id="id00765" style="margin-top: 2em"> Palermo, February 13th, 1799.</p>
<h5 id="id00766"> MY LORD,</h5>
<p id="id00767">Having received an application from this government, that they might
be supplied with lead from on board the British merchants ships in
this harbour, that have that article on board—and that, without the
help of about a hundred <i>cantarra</i> of lead, this country, and the
common cause, would be much distressed—I am to beg of your Lordship
to use your kind endeavours that this urgent want may be supplied
as soon as possible: well understood, that the proprietors of this
article should be perfectly satisfied with this government, as to the
price of the lead, freight, &c.</p>
<p id="id00768">I have the honour to be, my Lord, your Lordship's most obedient and
most humble servant,</p>
<p id="id00769"> Wm. HAMILTON.</p>
<h2 id="id00770" style="margin-top: 4em">III.</h2>
<p id="id00771" style="margin-top: 2em"> Palermo, Sunday Night late,<br/>
near winding-up-watch hour,<br/>
May 19th, 1799.<br/></p>
<h5 id="id00772">MY VERY DEAR LORD,</h5>
<p id="id00773">Ten thousand thanks for your kind attention in sending us Hallowell's
letter to Troubridge. It comforts us in one respect, as it flatters
us with Commodore Duckworth's four ships joining you soon. But, I
must own, from the junction of five Spanish ships and frigates, I now
think, something more than going into Toulon is intended, and that
your Lordship may have a brush with them.</p>
<p id="id00774">God send you every success, that your unparalleled virtues and bravery
so well merit.</p>
<p id="id00775">Adieu, my dear Lord! Your Lordship's truly affectionate, and eternally
attached,</p>
<p id="id00776"> Wm. HAMILTON.</p>
<h2 id="id00777" style="margin-top: 4em">IV.</h2>
<p id="id00778" style="margin-top: 2em"> Palermo, May 26th, 1799.</p>
<h5 id="id00779">MY DEAR LORD,</h5>
<p id="id00780">Whilst Emma was writing to your Lordship, I have been with Acton, to
get a felucca, to send Ball's dispatch to you. It is of so old a date,
that I make no doubt of Ball's having joined you before his dispatch
reaches.</p>
<p id="id00781">I send your Lordship an interesting letter I have just received from
our Consul at Trieste: and Acton's answer to my yesterday's letter
communicating your kind resolution of taking care of their Sicilian
Majesties and their kingdoms; and which, your Lordship will see, gives
them great satisfaction.</p>
<p id="id00782">As to the fleet having been seen by the Towers near Messina, and to
the westward—I believe, it was your squadron.</p>
<p id="id00783">I send you, likewise, a strange rhapsody from Lord Bristol: but
something may be collected from it; or, at least, it will amuse you,
and you have leisure enough on board, which I have not on shore. Be
so good as to send back that letter, and Graham's, by the first
opportunity.</p>
<p id="id00784">Above all, take care of your health; that is the first of blessings.
May God ever protect you! We miss you heavily: but, a short time must
clear up the business; and, we hope, bring you back to those who love
and esteem you to the very bottom of their souls.</p>
<p id="id00785">Ever your affectionate friend, and humble servant,</p>
<p id="id00786"> Wm. HAMILTON.</p>
<h2 id="id00787" style="margin-top: 4em">V.</h2>
<p id="id00788" style="margin-top: 2em"> Palermo, June 17th, 1799.</p>
<h5 id="id00789">MY DEAR LORD,</h5>
<p id="id00790">I am happy to receive the packet from Major Magra, and which I shall
instantly send to General Acton.</p>
<p id="id00791">Nothing has happened, worth telling you, since the few hours we have
been separated.</p>
<p id="id00792">God bless you, my very dear friend; and my mind tells me, that
you will soon have reason, either by good news, or by a proper
reinforcement sent to you, to be in a much happier state of mind
than you could possibly be when you left us this morning. All looks
melancholy without you.</p>
<p id="id00793">Ever, my dear Lord, your truly attached friend,</p>
<p id="id00794"> Wm. HAMILTON.</p>
<h2 id="id00795" style="margin-top: 4em">VI.</h2>
<p id="id00796" style="margin-top: 2em"> Palermo, June 20th, 1799.<br/>
Eight o'Clock at Night.<br/></p>
<h5 id="id00797"> MY DEAR LORD,</h5>
<p id="id00798">Having wrote fully by the felucca to-day, that went off at three
o'clock—and have not yet General Acton's answer, with respect to what
the Court would wish you to do when you hear how the French fleet is
disposed of—I have nothing to write by the transport.</p>
<p id="id00799">God bless you! And I hope, somehow or other, we shall meet again soon.</p>
<p id="id00800">My dear Lord, your's, most sincerely,</p>
<p id="id00801"> Wm. HAMILTON.</p>
<h2 id="id00802" style="margin-top: 4em">VII.</h2>
<p id="id00803" style="margin-top: 2em"> Piccadilly, February 19th, 1801.</p>
<h5 id="id00804"> MY DEAR LORD,</h5>
<p id="id00805">Whether Emma will be able to write to you to-day, or not, is a
question; as she has got one of her terrible sick head-achs. Among
other things that vex her, is—that we have been drawn in to be under
the absolute necessity of giving a dinner to ****** on Sunday next.
He asked it himself; having expressed his strong desire of hearing
Banti's and Emma's voices together.</p>
<p id="id00806">I am well aware of the danger that would attend ******* frequenting
our house. Not that I fear, that Emma could ever be induced to act
contrary to the prudent conduct she has hitherto pursued; but the
world is so ill-natured, that the worst construction is put upon the
most innocent actions.</p>
<p id="id00807">As this dinner must be, or ****** would be offended, I shall keep
it strictly to the musical part; invite only Banti, her husband, and
Taylor; and, as I wish to shew a civility to Davison, I have sent him
an invitation.</p>
<p id="id00808">In short, we will get rid of it as well as we can, and guard against
its producing more meetings of the same sort.</p>
<p id="id00809">Emma would really have gone any lengths, to have avoided Sunday's
dinner. But I thought it would not be prudent to break with ******;
who, really, has shewn the greatest civility to us, when we were last
in England, and since we returned: and she has, at last, acquiesced to
my opinion.</p>
<p id="id00810">I have been thus explicit, as I know well your Lordship's way of
thinking; and your very kind attachment to us, and to every thing that
concerns us.</p>
<p id="id00811">The King caught cold at the Chapel the other day, and there was
no levee yesterday; and, to-day, the Queen alone will be at the
drawing-room: and, I believe, the new ministry will not be quite
fixed, until the levee-day next week.</p>
<p id="id00812">As to my business—I have done all I can to bring it to a point.</p>
<p id="id00813">The pension recommended by Lord Grenville was only like Walpole's—a
nominal two thousand pounds. I have represented the injustice of
that—after my having had the King's promise of not being removed
from Naples, but at my own request; and having only empowered Lord
Grenville to remove me, on securing to me a nett income of two
thousand pounds per annum.</p>
<p id="id00814">Lord Grenville has recommended to the Treasury, the taking my
extraordinary expences into consideration.</p>
<p id="id00815">I have fully demonstrated, to Lord Grenville and Treasury, that
eight thousand pounds is absolutely necessary for the clearing off my
unfunded debt, without making up for my losses.</p>
<p id="id00816">Upon the whole, then, I do not expect to get more than the nett
annuity above mentioned, and the eight thousand pounds. But, unless
that is granted, I shall, indeed, have been very ill-used! I hope, in
my next, to be able to inform your Lordship that all has been finally
settled.</p>
<p id="id00817">I am busy in putting in order the remains of my vases and pictures,
that you so kindly saved for me on board the Fourdroyant; and the sale
of them will enable me to go on more at my ease, and not leave a debt
unpaid. But, unfortunately, there have been too many picture sales
this year, and mine will come late.</p>
<p id="id00818">Adieu! my very dear Lord. May health and success attend you, wherever
you go! And, I flatter myself, this political jumble may hasten a
peace, and bring you back soon.</p>
<p id="id00819">Your Lordship's ever obliged, and most sincerely attached, friend and
servant,</p>
<p id="id00820"> Wm. HAMILTON.</p>
<h2 id="id00821" style="margin-top: 4em">VIII.</h2>
<p id="id00822" style="margin-top: 2em"> Piccadilly, February 20th, 1801.</p>
<h5 id="id00823">MY DEAR LORD,</h5>
<p id="id00824">You need not be the least alarmed, that Emma has commissioned me to
send you the newspapers; and write you a line, to tell you that she is
much better—having vomited naturally, and is now purposing to take a
regular one of tartar emetic.</p>
<p id="id00825">All her convulsive complaints certainly proceed from a foul stomach;
and I will answer for it, she will be in spirits to write to you
herself to-morrow.</p>
<p id="id00826">Adieu! my very dear Lord. I have not a moment to lose, as the bell is
going.</p>
<p id="id00827">Your ever attached and obliged humble servant,</p>
<p id="id00828"> Wm. HAMILTON.</p>
<h2 id="id00829" style="margin-top: 4em">IX.</h2>
<p id="id00830" style="margin-top: 2em"> Piccadilly, March 7th, 1801.</p>
<h5 id="id00831">MY VERY DEAR LORD,</h5>
<p id="id00832">I wish it was in my power to profit of your kind invitation; you would
soon see me and Emma on board the St. George: but I am now totally
occupied in preparing for the sale of my pictures, and what I have
saved of my vases.</p>
<p id="id00833">To my great satisfaction, I have found some of the most capital
vases; and which I thought, surely, lost on board the Colossus. It has
comforted me much.</p>
<p id="id00834">We remain in the same cruel state with respect to the King's recovery.
There can be no doubt, but that his Majesty is better. However, if my
conjectures are true, the Regency must soon take place: as it may be
long before his Majesty could be troubled with business, supposing
even his <i>fever</i> to have totally subsided; and, the times admit of no
delays.</p>
<p id="id00835">We see, now, the certainty of the French squadron's being in the
Mediterranean. God knows, how all this will end! But I hope it will be
your Lordship's lot to bring Paul to his senses.</p>
<p id="id00836">God send you every success; and send you home, safe and well, crowned
with additional laurels! And then, I hope, you will repose your
shattered frame; and make your friends happy, by staying with them.</p>
<p id="id00837"> Emma</p>
<p id="id00838">Emma is certainly much better, but not quite free from bile.</p>
<p id="id00839">Ever, my dear Lord, your Lordship's most attached, and eternally
obliged, humble servant,</p>
<p id="id00840"> Wm. HAMILTON.</p>
<h2 id="id00841" style="margin-top: 4em">X.</h2>
<p id="id00842" style="margin-top: 2em"> Piccadilly, April 16th, 1801.</p>
<p id="id00843">What can I say, my Dear Lord! that would convey the smallest idea of
what we felt yesterday, on receiving the authentic letters confirming
your late most glorious victory: and read, in your own hand, that God
had not only granted you complete success against the enemies of our
country; but, in the midst of such perils, prevented your receiving
the smallest scratch!</p>
<p id="id00844">We can only repeat what we knew well, and often said, before—that<br/>
Nelson <i>was</i>, <i>is</i>, and to the <i>last</i> will ever be, <i>the first</i>.<br/></p>
<p id="id00845">However, we all agree that, when we get you safe home once more—that
you should never more risk your shattered frame.</p>
<p id="id00846">You have done enough, and are well entitled to the motto of Virgil—</p>
<p id="id00847"> "<i>Hic Victor cæstus artemque repono</i>."</p>
<p id="id00848">The famous Broughton, after he had beaten every opponent, that dared
to measure hard blows with him, set up an ale-house—the Broughton's
Head—in London, with the above verse of Virgil under it. Some years
after, he was persuaded to accept the challenge of a coachman, and was
beaten.</p>
<p id="id00849">Not that I mean to convey, that any such thing could happen to your
Lordship; but, you have done enough. Let others follow your examples;
they will be remembered to the latest posterity.</p>
<p id="id00850">It appeared to me most extraordinary, that the 6th inst. the date of
your last letter to Emma, the death of the Emperor Paul (which we have
no doubt of here) should not be known at Copenhagen!</p>
<p id="id00851">It appears to us that, as soon as that great event is known in Sweden
and Denmark, with the severe blow you have just given the latter, the
formidable giant, Northern Coalition, will of itself fall to pieces;
and that we shall have the happiness of embracing you again here, in a
very short time.</p>
<p id="id00852">You would have laughed to have seen what I saw yesterday! <i>Emma</i> did
not know whether she was on her head or heels—in such a hurry to tell
your great news, that she could utter nothing but tears of joy and
tenderness.</p>
<p id="id00853">I went to Davison yesterday morning; and found him still in bed,
having had a severe fit of the gout, and with your letter, which
he had just received: and he cried like a child! But, what was very
extraordinary, assured me that, from the instant he had read your
letter, all pain had left him, and that he felt himself able to get up
and walk about.</p>
<p id="id00854">Your brother, Mrs. Nelson, and Horace, dined with us. Your brother
was more extraordinary than ever. He would get up suddenly, and cut
a caper; rubbing his hands every time that the thought of your fresh
laurels came into his head.</p>
<p id="id00855">In short, except myself, (and your Lordship knows that I have some
phlegm) all the company, which was considerable, after dinner—the
Duke, Lord William, Mr. Este, &c.—were mad with joy. But, I am sure,
that no one really rejoiced more, at heart, than I did. I have lived
too long to have <i>extacies</i>! But, with calm reflection, I felt for
my friend having got to the very summit of glory!—the "<i>Ne plus
ultra!</i>"—that he has had another opportunity of rendering his country
the most important service; and manifesting, again, his judgment, his
intrepidity, and humanity.</p>
<p id="id00856">God bless you, my very dear Lord, and send you soon home to your
friends. Enemies you have none, but those that are bursting with envy;
and such animals infest all parts of the world.</p>
<p id="id00857">The King, be assured, is (though weak) getting well fast. Lord
Loughborough told Livingston, who has just been here, that he was with
the King the day before yesterday, before and after delivery of the
seals, and that he was perfectly calm and recollected.</p>
<p id="id00858">Ever your sincerely attached, and truly obliged, humble servant,</p>
<p id="id00859"> Wm. HAMILTON.</p>
<h2 id="id00860" style="margin-top: 4em">XI.</h2>
<p id="id00861" style="margin-top: 2em"> Milford, August 12th, 1801.</p>
<h5 id="id00862">MY DEAR LORD,</h5>
<p id="id00863">Emma has constantly given me every possible intelligence relative to
your Lordship, and the important operations you are about at this most
interesting moment.</p>
<p id="id00864">You have already calmed the minds of every body with respect to
the threatened French invasion. In short, all your Lordship does is
complete; like yourself, and nobody else. But still, I think, there is
no occasion for the Commander in Chief to expose his person as much
as you do. Why should you not have a private flag, known to your fleet
and not to the enemy, when you shift it and go reconnoitring?</p>
<p id="id00865">Captain Hopkins, going from hence in the Speedwell cutter to join your
Lordship, will be happy to introduce himself to you by presenting this
letter himself. They give him a good character in this country, but my
acquaintance with him is but of two days.</p>
<p id="id00866">I was yesterday with Captain Dobbins, in the Diligence cutter. We
sailed out of this glorious harbour; and, the day being fine, sailed
out some leagues, and examined the Crow Rock, which is reckoned the
greatest danger as to entering the harbour. But the two light-houses
lately erected take off all danger in the night; and [it] is visible
in the day-time, except a short time in spring tides.</p>
<p id="id00867">I am delighted with the improvements at Milford. It will surely be a
great town, if we have peace, in three years; the houses rising up,
like mushrooms, even in these difficult times. We allow any one to
build—at their own expence—at an easy ground-rent, and to fall in at
the expiration of three lives, or sixty years.</p>
<p id="id00868">You may judge that, having two thousand acres all round the town,
these inhabitants will want land for cows and horses, and gardens, &c.
and, of course, I must be a gainer in the end.</p>
<p id="id00869">I visited the two light-houses, and found them perfectly clean, and in
good order: and I never could conceive the brilliant light that they
give; one has sixteen reflected lights, and the other ten.</p>
<p id="id00870">To-day, I go upon my last visit to Lord Milford; and, on Saturday, set
out for Piccadilly: and where I am not without hopes of meeting your
Lordship; as I think, in the manner you dispatch business, you will
have completed all by Wednesday next, the day I shall probably be in
London.</p>
<p id="id00871">Charles Greville's kind compliments. The name of Nelson is in every
mouth; and, indeed, we owe every thing to your judgment and exertions.</p>
<p id="id00872">Adieu! God bless you. Ever your Lordship's affectionate friend, and
obliged humble servant,</p>
<p id="id00873"> Wm. HAMILTON.</p>
<h2 id="id00874" style="margin-top: 4em">XII.</h2>
<p id="id00875" style="margin-top: 2em"> Piccadilly, April 28th, 1802.</p>
<h5 id="id00876">MY DEAR LORD,</h5>
<p id="id00877">Emma says—I must write a letter to you, of condolence for the heavy
loss your Lordship has suffered.</p>
<p id="id00878">When persons, in the prime of life, are carried off by accidents or
sickness—or what is, I believe, oftener the case, by the ignorance
and mistakes of the physicians—then, indeed, there is reason to
lament! But as, in the case of your good Father, the lamp was suffered
to burn out fairly, and that his sufferings were not great; and that,
by his Son's glorious and unparalleled successes, he saw his family
ennobled, and with the probability, in time, of its being amply
rewarded, as it ought to have been long ago—his mind could not be
troubled, in his latter moments, on account of the family he left
behind him: and, as to his own peace of mind, at the moment of his
dissolution, there can be no doubt, among those who ever had the
honour of his acquaintance.</p>
<p id="id00879">I have said more than I intended; but dare say, your Lordship had
nearly the same thoughts—with the addition of the feelings of a
dutiful Son, for the loss of a most excellent Father.</p>
<p id="id00880">It is, however, now—as your Lordship is the Father of your<br/>
Family—incumbent upon you to take particular care of your own health.<br/>
Nay, you are, by the voice of the nation, its first prop and support.<br/></p>
<p id="id00881">Keep up your spirits; and, that you may long enjoy your well-earned
honours, is the sincere wish of your Lordship's affectionate friend,
and attached humble servant,</p>
<p id="id00882"> Wm. HAMILTON.</p>
<p id="id00883" style="margin-top: 4em">Letters</p>
<h5 id="id00884">FROM</h5>
<h5 id="id00885">LORD NELSON</h5>
<h5 id="id00886">TO</h5>
<h5 id="id00887">SIR WILLIAM HAMILTON, K.B.</h5>
<p id="id00888" style="margin-top: 4em">Letters OF LORD NELSON, &c.</p>
<h4 id="id00889" style="margin-top: 2em">I.</h4>
<p id="id00890"> Bastia, May 24th, 1794.</p>
<h5 id="id00891">MY DEAR SIR,</h5>
<p id="id00892">Will you have the goodness to forward the inclosed to Mr. Brand, and
to present my letter to Lady Hamilton?</p>
<p id="id00893">Every lover of his country will rejoice in our great and almost
unexampled success, to the honour of my Lord Hood, and to the shame of
those who opposed his endeavours to serve his country.</p>
<p id="id00894">General Stewart, I am happy to say, is just arrived.</p>
<p id="id00895">We shall now join, heart and hand, against Calvi. When conquered, I
shall hope to pay my respects to your Excellency at Naples; which will
give real pleasure to your very faithful, and obliged,</p>
<h5 id="id00896"> HORATIO NELSON.</h5>
<h2 id="id00897" style="margin-top: 4em">II.</h2>
<p id="id00898" style="margin-top: 2em"> Agamemnon, Leghorn,<br/>
March 11th, 1796.<br/></p>
<h5 id="id00899">SIR,</h5>
<p id="id00900">Mr. Wyndham having communicated to Mr. Udney the conversation of the
French minister with the Tuscans, I cannot, being intrusted by the
Admiral with the command of the small squadron in the Gulph of Genoa,
but think it right for me to beg that your Excellency will apply
for such vessels of war belonging to his Sicilian Majesty, as may be
judged proper to cruize in the Gulph of Genoa, and particularly off
the point of the Gulph of Especia. Xebecs, corvettes, and frigates,
are the fittest to cruize; and the first have the great advantage of
rowing, as well as sailing, I am told, very fast.</p>
<p id="id00901">General [Acton] knows, full as well as myself, the vessels proper to
prevent the disembarkation of troops on this coast; therefore, I shall
not particularly point them out.</p>
<p id="id00902">Last campaign, the word <i>flotilla</i> was misunderstood. I can only say,
that all vessels which can sail and row must be useful; and, for small
craft, Port Especia is a secure harbour.</p>
<p id="id00903">Whatever is to be done, should be done speedily; for, by Mr. Wyndham's
account, we have no time to lose.</p>
<p id="id00904">If we have the proper vessels, I am confident, the French will not be
able to bring their ten thousand men by sea; and; should they attempt
to pass through the Genoese territories, I hope the Austrians will
prevent them: but, however, should all our precautions not be able to
prevent the enemy's possessing themselves of Leghorn, yet we are not
to despair. Fourteen days from their entry, if the allied powers
unite heartily, I am confident, we shall take them all prisoners. I am
confident, it can—and, therefore, should such an unlucky event take
place, as their possessing themselves of Leghorn, I hope, will—be
done. I have sent to the Admiral.</p>
<p id="id00905">I am, very lately, from off Toulon; where thirteen sail of the line,
and five frigates, are ready for sea, and others fitting.</p>
<p id="id00906">With my best respects to Lady Hamilton, believe me, dear Sir, your<br/>
Excellency's most obedient servant,<br/></p>
<h5 id="id00907"> HORATIO NELSON.</h5>
<h2 id="id00908" style="margin-top: 4em">III.</h2>
<p id="id00909" style="margin-top: 2em"> Vanguard, Syracuse, July 20th, 1798.</p>
<h5 id="id00910">MY DEAR SIR,</h5>
<p id="id00911">It is an old saying, "The devil's children have the devil's luck." I
cannot find—or, to this moment learn, beyond vague conjecture—where
the French fleet are gone to. All my ill fortune, hitherto, has
proceeded from want of frigates.</p>
<p id="id00912">Off Cape Passaro, on the twenty-second of June, at day-light, I saw
two frigates, which were supposed to be French; and it has been said,
since, that a line-of-battle ship was to leeward of them, with the
riches of Malta on board. But it was the destruction of the enemy, and
not riches for myself, that I was seeking: these would have fell to
me, if I had had frigates; but, except the ship of the line, I regard
not all the riches in this world.</p>
<p id="id00913">From my information off Malta, I believed they were gone to Egypt:
therefore, on the twenty-eighth, I was communicating with Alexandria
in Egypt; where I found the Turks preparing to resist them, but knew
nothing beyond report.</p>
<p id="id00914">From thence I stretched over to the coast of Caramania; where, not
speaking a vessel who could give me information, I became distressed
for the kingdom of the Two Sicilies: and, having gone a round of six
hundred leagues, at this season of the year, (with a single ship, with
an expedition incredible) here I am, as <i>ignorant</i> of the situation of
the enemy as I was twenty-seven days ago!</p>
<p id="id00915">I sincerely hope, the dispatches, which I understand are at Cape
Passaro, will give me full information. I shall be able, for nine or
ten weeks longer, to keep the fleet on active service, when we shall
want provisions and stores. I send a paper on that subject, herewith.</p>
<p id="id00916">Mr. Littledale is, I suppose, sent up by the Admiral to victual us,
and I hope he will do it cheaper than any other person: but, if I
find out that he charges more than the fair price, and has not the
provisions of the very best quality, I will not take them; for, as no
fleet has more fag than this, nothing but the best food, and greatest
attention, can keep them healthy. At this moment, we have not one sick
man in the fleet.</p>
<p id="id00917">In about six days, I shall sail from hence: and, if I hear nothing
more of the French, I shall go to the Archipelago; where, if they are
gone towards Constantinople, I shall hear of them.</p>
<p id="id00918">I shall go to Cyprus; and, if they are gone to Alexandretta, or any
other part of Syria or Egypt, I shall get information.</p>
<p id="id00919">You will, I am sure, and so will our country, easily conceive what
has passed in my anxious mind; but I have this comfort, that I have no
fault to accuse myself of: this bears me up, and this only.</p>
<p id="id00920">I send you a paper, where a letter is fixed for different places:
which I may leave at any place; and, except those who have the key,
none can tell where I am gone to.</p>
<p id="id00921" style="margin-top: 2em"> July 21.</p>
<p id="id00922">The messenger is returned from Cape Passaro; and says, that your
letters for me are returned to Naples. What a situation am I placed
in! As yet, I can learn nothing of the enemy: therefore, I have no
conjecture but that they are gone to Syria; and, at Cyprus, I hope to
hear of them.</p>
<p id="id00923">If they were gone to the westward, I rely that every place in Sicily
would have information for me; for it is too important news to leave
me in one moment's doubt about.</p>
<p id="id00924">I have no frigate, or a sign of one. The masts, yards, &c. for the
Vanguard, will I hope be prepared directly: for, should the French
be so strongly secured in port that I cannot get at them, I shall
immediately shift my flag into some other ship, and send the Vanguard
to Naples to be refitted; for hardly any person but myself would have
continued on service so long in such a wretched state.</p>
<p id="id00925">I want to send a great number of papers to Lord St. Vincent; but I
durst not trust any person here to carry them, even to Naples.</p>
<p id="id00926">Pray, send a copy of my letter to Lord Spencer; he must be very
anxious to hear of this fleet.</p>
<p id="id00927">I have taken the liberty of troubling your Excellency with a letter
for Lady Nelson. Pray, forward it for me; and believe me, with the
greatest respect, your most obedient servant,</p>
<h5 id="id00928"> HORATIO NELSON.</h5>
<p id="id00929">Sent on shore, to the charge of the Governor of Syracuse.</p>
<h2 id="id00930" style="margin-top: 4em">IV.</h2>
<p id="id00931" style="margin-top: 2em"> Vanguard, Syracuse, July 22d, 1798.</p>
<h5 id="id00932">MY DEAR SIR,</h5>
<p id="id00933">I have had so much said about the King of Naples's orders only to
admit three or four of the ships of our fleet into his ports, that I
am astonished! I understood, that private orders, at least, would have
been given for our free admission. If we are to be refused supplies,
pray send me, by many vessels, an account, that I may in good time
take the King's fleet to Gibraltar. Our treatment is scandalous, for a
great nation to put up with; and the King's flag is insulted at every
friendly port we look at.</p>
<p id="id00934">I am, with the greatest respect, your most obedient servant,</p>
<h5 id="id00935"> HORATIO NELSON.</h5>
<p id="id00936"><i>P.S.</i> I do not complain of the want of attention in individuals, for
all classes of people are remarkably attentive to us.</p>
<p id="id00937" style="margin-top: 2em">Sent on shore, to the charge of the Governor of Syracuse.</p>
<h2 id="id00938" style="margin-top: 4em">V.</h2>
<p id="id00939" style="margin-top: 2em"> Vanguard, Mouth of the Nile,<br/>
August 8th, 1798.<br/></p>
<h5 id="id00940">MY DEAR SIR,</h5>
<p id="id00941">Almighty God has made me the happy instrument in destroying the
enemy's fleet; which, I hope, will be a blessing to Europe.</p>
<p id="id00942">You will have the goodness to communicate this happy event to all the
courts in Italy; for my head is so indifferent, that I can scarcely
scrawl this letter.</p>
<p id="id00943">Captain Capel, who is charged with my dispatches for England, will
give you every information. Pray, put him in the quickest mode of
getting home.</p>
<p id="id00944">You will not send, by post, any particulars of this action, as I
should be sorry to have any accounts get home before my dispatches.</p>
<p id="id00945">I hope there will be no difficulty in our getting refitted at Naples.
Culloden must be instantly hove down, and Vanguard all new masts and
bowsprit. Not more than four or five sail of the line will probably
come to Naples; the rest will go with the prizes to Gibraltar.</p>
<p id="id00946">As this army never will return, I hope to hear the Emperor has
regained the whole of Italy.</p>
<p id="id00947">With every good wish, believe me, dear Sir, your most obliged and
affectionate</p>
<h5 id="id00948"> HORATIO NELSON.</h5>
<p id="id00949"> 9th August.</p>
<p id="id00950">I have intercepted all Buonaparte's dispatches going to France. This
army is in a scrape, and will not get out of it.</p>
<h2 id="id00951" style="margin-top: 4em">VI.</h2>
<p id="id00952" style="margin-top: 2em"> August 12th, 1798.</p>
<h5 id="id00953">MY DEAR SIR,</h5>
<p id="id00954">As the greater part of this squadron is going down the Mediterranean,
we shall not want the quantity of wine or bread ordered; therefore,
what is not already prepared had better be put a stop to. I will
settle all the matter, if ever I live to see Naples.</p>
<p id="id00955">I have the satisfaction to tell you, the French army have got
a complaint amongst them—caused by the heat, and nothing but
water—which will make Egypt the grave of the greatest part.</p>
<p id="id00956">Ever your's, faithfully,</p>
<h5 id="id00957"> HORATIO NELSON.</h5>
<h2 id="id00958" style="margin-top: 4em">VII.</h2>
<p id="id00959" style="margin-top: 2em"> Vanguard, off Malta;<br/>
October 24th, 1798.<br/></p>
<h5 id="id00960">MY DEAR SIR,</h5>
<p id="id00961">I am just arrived off this place; where I found Captain Ball, and the
Marquis de Niza. From those officers, I do not find such an immediate
prospect of getting possession of the town as the ministers at Naples
seem to think. All the country, it is true, is in possession of the
islanders; and, I believe, the French have not many luxuries in the
town; but, as yet, their bullocks are not eat up.</p>
<p id="id00962">The Marquis tells me, the islanders want arms, victuals, mortars,
and cannon, to annoy the town. When I get the elect of the people
on board, I shall desire them to draw up a memorial for the King of
Naples, stating their wants and desires, which I shall bring with me.</p>
<p id="id00963">The Marquis sails for Naples to-morrow morning. Till he is gone, I
shall not do any thing about the island; but I will be fully master of
that subject before I leave this place.</p>
<p id="id00964">God bless you! is the sincere prayer of</p>
<h5 id="id00965"> HORATIO NELSON.</h5>
<h2 id="id00966" style="margin-top: 4em">VIII.</h2>
<p id="id00967" style="margin-top: 2em"> Vanguard, off Malta,<br/>
October 27th, 1798.<br/></p>
<h5 id="id00968">MY DEAR SIR WILLIAM,</h5>
<p id="id00969">Although I believe I shall be at Naples before the cutter, yet
I should be sorry to omit acknowledging your kind letter of the
twenty-sixth.</p>
<p id="id00970">When I come to Naples, I can have nothing pleasant to say of the
conduct of his Sicilian Majesty's ministers towards the inhabitants
of Malta, who wish to be under the dominion of their legitimate
Sovereign. The total neglect and indifference with which they have
been treated, appears to me <i>cruel</i> in the extreme.</p>
<p id="id00971">Had not the English supplied fifteen hundred stand of arms, with
bayonets, cartouch-boxes, and ammunition, &c. &c. and the Marquis
supplied some few, and kept the spirit of those brave islanders from
falling off, they must long ago have bowed again to the French yoke.</p>
<p id="id00972">Could you, my dear Sir William, have believed, after what General
Acton and the Marquis de Gallo had said, in our various conversations
relative to this island, that nothing had been sent by the Governor of
Syracuse—<i>secretly</i> (was the word to us) or openly—to this island?
And, I am farther assured, that the Governor of Syracuse never had any
orders sent him to supply the smallest article.</p>
<p id="id00973">I beg your Excellency will state this, in confidence, to General
Acton. I shall, most assuredly, tell it to the King! The justice I
owe myself, now I feel employed in the service of their Sicilian
Majesties, demands it of me; and, also, the duty I owe our gracious
King, in order to shew that I am doing my utmost to comply with his
royal commands.</p>
<p id="id00974">As I have before stated, had it not been for the English, long, long
ago, the Maltese must have been overpowered. Including the fifteen
hundred stand of arms given by us, not more than three thousand are in
the island. I wonder how they have kept on the defensive so long.</p>
<p id="id00975">The Emerald will sail—in twenty-four hours after my arrival—for
Malta; at least, two thousand stand of small arms complete,
ammunition, &c. &c. should be sent by her. This is wanted, to defend
themselves: for offence, two or three large mortars; fifteen hundred
shells, with all necessaries; and, perhaps, a few artillery—two
ten-inch howitzers, with a thousand shells. The Bormola, and all
the left side of the harbour, with this assistance, will fall. Ten
thousand men are required to defend those works, the French can only
spare twelve hundred; therefore, a vigorous assault in many parts,
some one must succeed.</p>
<p id="id00976">But, who have the government of Naples sent to lead or encourage these
people? A very good—and, I dare say, brave—old man; enervated, and
shaking with the palsy. This is the sort of man that they have sent;
without any supply, without even a promise of protection, and without
his bringing any answer to the repeated respectful memorials of these
people to their Sovereign.</p>
<p id="id00977">I know, their Majesties must feel hurt, when they hear these truths. I
may be thought presuming; but, I trust, General Acton will forgive an
honest seaman for telling plain truths. <i>As for the other minister,
I do not understand him</i>; we are different men! He has been bred in
a court, and I in a rough element. But, I believe, my heart is as
susceptible of the finer feelings as his, and as compassionate for the
distress of those who look up to me for protection.</p>
<p id="id00978">The officer sent here should have brought supplies, promises of
protection, and an answer from the King to their memorials: he should
have been a man of judgment, bravery, and <i>activity</i>. He should be the
first to lead them to glory; and the last, when necessary, to retreat:
the first to mount the walls of the Bormola, and never to quit it.
This is the man to send. Such, many such, are to be found. If he
succeeds, promise him rewards; my life for it, the business would soon
be over.</p>
<p id="id00979">God bless you! I am anxious to get this matter finished. I have sent
Ball, this day, to summon Goza; if it resists, I shall send on shore,
and batter down the castle.</p>
<p id="id00980">Three vessels, loaded with bullocks, &c. for the garrison, were taken
yesterday; from Tripoli ten more are coming, but we shall have them.</p>
<p id="id00981">I had almost forgot to mention, that orders should be immediately
given, that no quarantine should be laid on boats going to the coast
of Sicily for corn. At present, as a matter of favour, they have
<i>fourteen</i> days only. Yesterday, there was only four days bread in the
island. Luckily, we got hold of a vessel loaded with wheat, and sent
her into St. Paul's.</p>
<p id="id00982">Once more, God bless you! and ever believe me, your obliged and
affectionate</p>
<h5 id="id00983"> HORATIO NELSON.</h5>
<p id="id00984">This day, I have landed twenty barrels of gunpowder (two thousand
eight hundred pounds) at Malta.</p>
<h2 id="id00985" style="margin-top: 4em">IX.</h2>
<p id="id00986" style="margin-top: 2em"> Palermo, January 10th, 1800.</p>
<h5 id="id00987">SIR,</h5>
<p id="id00988">Your Excellency having had the goodness to communicate to me a
dispatch from General Acton; together with several letters from
<i>Girganti</i>, giving an account that a violence had been committed,
in that port, by the seizing, and carrying off to Malta, two vessels
loaded with corn—I beg leave to express to your Excellency my real
concern, that even the appearance of the slightest disrespect should
be offered, by any officers under my command, to the flag of his
Sicilian Majesty: and I must request your Excellency to state fully to
General Acton, that the act ought not to be considered as any intended
disrespect to his Sicilian Majesty; but as an act of the most absolute
and imperious necessity, either that the island of Malta should have
been delivered up to the French, or that the King's orders should be
anticipated for these vessels carrying their cargoes of corn to Malta.</p>
<p id="id00989">I trust, that the government of this country will never again force
any of our Royal Master's servants to so unpleasant an alternative.</p>
<p id="id00990">I have the honour to be, with the greatest respect, your Excellency's
most obedient and faithful servant,</p>
<h5 id="id00991"> B.N.</h5>
<h2 id="id00992" style="margin-top: 4em">X.</h2>
<p id="id00993" style="margin-top: 2em"> March 8th, 1800.</p>
<h5 id="id00994">MY DEAR SIR WILLIAM,</h5>
<p id="id00995">I thank you kindly for all your letters and good wishes. It is my
determination, <i>my health requiring it</i>, to come to Palermo, and to
stay two weeks with you.</p>
<p id="id00996">I must again urge, that four gunb-oats may be ordered for the service
of Malta; they will most essentially assist in the reduction of the
place, by preventing small vessels from getting in or out.</p>
<p id="id00997">I think, from the enemy, on the night of the fourth, trying and
getting out for a short distance, a very fast-sailing polacca, that
Vaubois is extremely anxious to send dispatches to France, to say he
cannot much longer hold out: and, if our troops, as Captain Blackwood
thinks, are coming from Gibraltar and Minorca, I have no idea the
enemy will hold out a week.</p>
<p id="id00998">I beg General Acton will order the gun-boats.</p>
<p id="id00999">Troubridge has got the jaundice, and is very ill.</p>
<p id="id01000">As I shall so very soon see you, I shall only say, that I am ever,
your obliged and affectionate</p>
<h5 id="id01001"> BRONTE NELSON.</h5>
<h2 id="id01002" style="margin-top: 4em">XI.</h2>
<p id="id01003" style="margin-top: 2em"> Palermo, March 30th, 1800.</p>
<h5 id="id01004">MY DEAR SIR WILLIAM,</h5>
<p id="id01005">As, from the orders I have given, to all the ships under my command,
to arrest and bring into port all the vessels and troops returning
by convention with the Porte to France—and as the Russian ships have
similar orders—I must request that your Excellency will endeavour to
arrange with the government of this country, how in the first instance
they are to be treated and received in the ports of the Two Sicilies:
for, it is obvious, I can do nothing more than bring them into port;
and, if they are kept on board ship, the fever will make such ravages
as to be little short of the plague.</p>
<p id="id01006">It is a very serious consideration for this country, either to receive
them, or let them pass; when they would invade, probably, these
kingdoms. In my present situation in the King's fleet, I have only to
obey; had I been, as before, in the command, I should have gone one
short and direct road to avert this great evil: <i>viz.</i> to have sent a
letter to the French, and the Grand Vizir, in Egypt, that I would not,
on any consideration, permit a single Frenchman to leave Egypt—and I
would do it at the risk of even creating a coldness, for the moment,
with the Turks.</p>
<p id="id01007">Of two evils, choose the least; and nothing can be so horrid, as
permitting that horde of thieves to return to Europe.</p>
<p id="id01008">If all the wise heads had left them to God Almighty, after the bridge
was broke, all would have ended well! For I differ entirely with
my Commander in Chief, in wishing they were permitted to return to
France; and, likewise, with Lord Elgin, in the great importance of
removing them from Egypt. No; there they should perish! has ever been
the firm determination of your Excellency's most obedient and faithful
servant,</p>
<h5 id="id01009"> BRONTE NELSON OF
THE NILE.</h5>
<h2 id="id01010" style="margin-top: 4em">XII.</h2>
<p id="id01011" style="margin-top: 2em"> Palermo, April 10th, 1800.</p>
<h5 id="id01012">MY DEAR SIR WILLIAM,</h5>
<p id="id01013">Reports are brought to me, that the Spanish ships of war in this port
are preparing to put to sea; a circumstance which must be productive
of very unpleasant consequences, to both England and this country.</p>
<p id="id01014">It is fully known, with what exactness I have adhered to the
neutrality of this port; for, upon our arrival here, from Naples, in
December 1798, from the conduct of his Catholic Majesty's minister, I
should have been fully justified in seizing those ships.</p>
<p id="id01015">We know, that one object of the Spanish fleet, combined with the
French, was to wrest entirely from the hands of his Sicilian Majesty
his kingdoms of the Two Sicilies.</p>
<p id="id01016">The Spaniards are, by bad councils, the tools of the French; and, of
course, the bitter enemy of his Sicilian Majesty and family.</p>
<p id="id01017">The conduct I have pursued towards these ships, circumstanced as they
are, has been moderate, and truly considerate towards his Sicilian
Majesty.</p>
<p id="id01018">The time is now come—that, profiting of my forbearance, the Spanish
ships are fitting for sea. It is not possible, if they persist in
their preparations, that I can avoid attacking them, even in the port
of Palermo; for they never can, or shall, be suffered to go to sea,
and placed in a situation of assisting the French, against not only
Great Britain, but also the Two Sicilies.</p>
<p id="id01019">I have, therefore, to request, that your Excellency will convey my
sentiments on this very delicate subject to his Sicilian Majesty's
ministers, that they may take measures to prevent such a truly
unpleasant event happening; which would be as much against my wish as
it can be against their's: and I request that your Excellency will,
through its proper channel, assure his Sicilian Majesty, that his
safety and honour is as dear to me as that of our Royal Master.</p>
<p id="id01020">I have the honour to be, with the greatest respect, my dear Sir<br/>
William, your Excellency's most affectionate, humble servant,<br/></p>
<h5 id="id01021"> BRONTE NELSON OF
THE NILE.</h5>
<h4 id="id01022" style="margin-top: 2em">THE END.</h4>
<p id="id01023" style="margin-top: 2em"> Printed by Macdonald and Son, Cloth Fair, London.</p>
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