Deal, August 18th, 1801.
MY DEAREST EMMA,
Your dear, good, kind, and most affectionate
letters, from Saturday to last night, are arrived,
and I feel all you say; and may Heaven bless me, very
soon, with a sight of your dear angelic face.
You are a nonpareil! No, not one fit to wipe
your shoes. I am, ever have been, and always
will remain, your most firm, fixed, and unalterable
friend.
I wish Sir William had come home a
week ago, then I should have seen you here.
I have this morning been attending
the funeral of two young Mids: a Mr. Gore, cousin
of Capt. Gore, and a Mr. Bristow. One nineteen,
the other seventeen years of age.
Last night, I was all the evening
in the Hospital, seeing that all was done for the
comfort of the poor fellows.
I am going on board; for nothing should
keep me living on shore, without you were here.
I shall come in the morning, to see Parker, and go
on board again directly.
I shall be glad to see Oliver:
I hope he will keep his tongue quiet, about the tea-kettle;
for, I shall not give it till I leave the Medusa.
You ask me, what Troubridge wrote
me? There was not a syllable about you in it.
It was about my not coming to London; at the importance
of which, I laughed: and, then, he said, he should
never venture another opinion. On which, I said “Then,
I shall never give you one.” This day,
he has wrote a kind letter, and all is over.
I have, however, wrote him, in my
letter of this day, as follows viz.
“And I am, this moment, as firmly of opinion
as ever, that Lord St. Vincent, and yourself, should
have allowed of my coming to town, for my own affairs;
for, every one knows, I left it without a thought
for myself.”
I know, he likes to be with you:
but, shall he have that felicity, and he deprive
me of it? No; that he shall not!
But this business cannot last long,
and I hope we shall have peace; and, I rather incline
to that opinion. But the Devil should not get
me out of the kingdom, without being some days with
you.
I hope, my dear Emma, you will be
able to find a house suited for my comfort. I
am sure of being HAPPY, by your arrangements.
I have wrote a line to Troubridge, about Darby.
Parker will write you a line of thanks,
if he is able. I trust in God, he will yet do
well!
You ask me, my dear friend, if I am
going on more expeditions? And, even if I was
to forfeit your friendship, which is dearer to me than
all the world, I can tell you nothing.
For, I go out; [if] I see the enemy,
and can get at them, it is my duty: and you would
naturally hate me, if I kept back one moment.
I long to pay them, for their tricks
t’other day, the debt of a drubbing, which,
surely, I’ll pay: but when, where, or
how, it is impossible, your own good sense must
tell you, for me or mortal man to say.
I shall act not in a rash or hasty
manner; that you may rely, and on which I give you
my word of honour.
Just going off. Ever, for ever, your faithful
NELSON & BRONTE.
Every kind thing to Mrs. Nelson.