January 28, 1801.
What a fool I was, my dear Lady Hamilton,
to direct that your cheering letters should be directed
for Brixham! I feel, this day, truly miserable,
in not having them; and, I fear, they will not come
till to-morrow’s post.
What a blockhead, to believe any person
is so active as myself! I have this day got my
orders, to put myself under Lord St. Vincent’s
command: but, as no order is arrived to man the
ship, it must be Friday night, or Saturday morning,
before she can sail for Torbay. Direct my letters,
now, to Brixham.
My eye is very bad. I have had
the physician of the fleet to examine it.
He has directed me not to write, (and
yet I am forced, this day, to write Lord Spencer,
St. Vincent, Davison about my law-suit, Troubridge,
Mr. Locker, &c. but you are the only female I write
to;) not to eat any thing but the most simple food;
not to touch wine or porter; to sit in a dark room;
to have green shades for my eyes (will
you, my dear friend, make me one or two? Nobody
else shall;) and to bathe them in cold
water every hour. I fear, it is the writing has
brought on this complaint. My eye is like blood;
and the film so extended, that I only see from the
corner farthest from my nose. What a fuss about
my complaints! But, being so far from my sincere
friends, I have leisure to brood over them.
I have this moment seen Mrs. Thomson’s
friend. Poor fellow! he seems very uneasy and
melancholy. He begs you to be kind to her; and
I have assured him of your readiness to relieve the
dear good woman: and believe me, for ever, my
dear Lady, your faithful, attached, and affectionate,
NELSON & BRONTE.
I will try and write the Duke a line.
My brother intended to have gone off to-morrow afternoon;
but this half order may stop him.