Victory, off Toulon,
October 18th, 1803.
MY DEAREST EMMA,
Your truly kind and affectionate letters,
from July 17th, to August 24th, all arrived safe in
the Childers, the 6th of this month.
Believe me, my beloved Emma, that
I am truly sensible of all your love and affection,
which is reciprocal. You have, from the variety
of incidents passing before you, much to tell me;
and, besides, you have that happy knack of making
every thing you write interesting. Here I am,
one day precisely like the other; except the difference
of a gale of wind, or not.
Since September 1st, we have not had
four fine days; and, if the French do not come out
soon, I fear, some of my ships will cry out.
You are very good, to send me your letters to read.
Mrs. D is a damned
pimping bitch! What has she to do with your love?
She would have pimped for Lord B ,
or Lord L , or Captain M’N ,
of , or any one else. She is all
vanity: fancies herself beautiful; witty; in
short, like you. She be damned!
As I wrote you, the consulship at
Civita Vecchia will not, in itself, pay their
lodgings; and, the bad air will tip her off.
There will be no Lord Bristol’s
table. He tore his last will, a few hours before
his death. It is said, that it was giving every
thing to those devils of Italians about him.
I wish he may have given Mrs. Denis
any thing; but, I do not think it: and, as for
you, my dear Emma, as long as I can, I don’t
want any of their gifts.
As for old Q. he may put you into
his will, or scratch you out, as he pleases, I care
not.
If Mr. Addington gives you the pension,
it is well; but, do not let it fret you. Have
you not Merton? It is clear the first
purchase and my dear Horatia is provided
for: and, I hope, one of these days, that you
will be my own Duchess of Bronte; and, then, a fig
for them all!
I have just had a letter from Gibbs,
of which I send you a copy. You see what interest
he is taking about Bronte.
I begin to think, without some assistance
like his, that I never should have touched a farthing.
It will be 1805, before I touch the estate. Neither
principal or interest of the seven thousand ounces
have been paid; and, it is now eight thousand ounces
debt.
You will see, Gibbs, at last, has
fixed on sending his daughter home; and I shall be
glad of so good an opportunity of obliging him, as
it will naturally tie him to my interest. He
was a great fool, not to have sent the child with
you, as you wished.
I am glad to find, my dear Emma, that
you mean to take Horatia home. Aye! she is
like her mother; will have her own way, or kick up
a devil of a dust. But, you will cure her:
I am afraid I should spoil her; for, I am sure, I
would shoot any one who would hurt her.
She was always fond of my watch; and,
very probably, I might have promised her one:
indeed, I gave her one, which cost sixpence! But,
I go no where to get any thing pretty; therefore, do
not think me neglectful.
I send you Noble’s letter;
therefore, I hope you will get your cases in good
order: they have had some narrow escapes.
I am glad you liked South End.
How that Coffin could come over, and
palaver, Rowley, Keith, &c. and Coffin to abuse the
Earl! Now, I can tell you, that he is the Earl’s
spy.
It is Coffin, who has injured Sir
Andrew Hammond so much: and his custom is, to
abuse the Earl, to get people to speak out; and, then,
the Earl takes his measures accordingly.
To me, it is nothing. Thank God!
there can be no tales told of my cheating; or, I hope,
neglecting my duty. Whilst I serve, I will serve
well, and closely; when I want rest, I will go to Merton.
You know, my dear Emma, that I am
never well when it blows hard. Therefore, imagine
what a cruize off Toulon is; even in summer time,
we have a hard gale every week, and two days heavy
swell.
It would kill you; and myself, to
see you. Much less possible, to have Charlotte,
Horatia, &c. on board ship!
And I, that have given orders to carry
no women to sea in the Victory, to be the first to
break them!
And, as to Malta, I may never see
it, unless we have an engagement; and, perhaps, not
then: for, if it is complete, I may go
home, for three months, to see you; but, if you was
at Malta, I might absolutely miss you, by leaving
the Mediterranean without warning.
The other day, we had a report the
French were out, and seen steering to the westward.
We were as far as Minorca, when the alarm proved false.
Therefore, my dearest beloved Emma!
although I should be the happiest of men, to live
and die with you, yet my chance of seeing you is much
more certain by your remaining at Merton, than wandering
where I may never go; and, certainly, never to stay
forty-eight hours.
You cannot, I am sure, more ardently
long to see me, than I do to be with you; and, if
the war goes on, it is my intention to get leave to
spend the next winter in England: but I
verily believe that, long before that time, we shall
have peace.
As for living in Italy, that is entirely
out of the question. Nobody cares for us, there;
and, if I had Bronte which, thank God!
I shall not it would cost me a fortune
to go there, and be tormented out of my life.
I should never settle my affairs there.
I know, my own dear Emma, if she will
let her reason have fair play, will say, I am right;
but she is, like Horatia, very angry, if she cannot
have her own way. Her Nelson is called upon, in
the most honourable manner, to defend his country!
Absence, to us, is equally painful: but, if I
had either stayed at home, or neglected my duty abroad,
would not my Emma have blushed for me? She could
never have heard of my praises, and how the country
looks up.
I am writing, my dear Emma, to reason
the point with you; and, I am sure, you will see it
in its true light. But I have said my say, on
this subject, and will finish.
I have received your letter, with
Lord William’s and Mr. Kemble’s, about
Mr. Palmer: he is also recommended by the Duke
of Clarence; and, he says, by desire of the Prince
of Wales. I have, without him, twenty-six to
be made Captains, and list every day increasing.
It is not one whole French fleet that can get
through it.
I shall, probably, offend many more
than I can oblige. Such is always the case:
like the tickets those who get them, feel
they have a right to them; and those [who] do not
get them, feel offended for ever.
But, I cannot help it: I shall
endeavour to do what is right, in every situation;
and some ball may soon close all my accounts with this
world of care and vexation!
But, never mind, my own dear-beloved
Emma: if you are true to me, I care not and
approve of all my actions. However, as you say,
I approve of them, myself; therefore, probably, I
am right.
Poor Reverend Mr. Scott is, I fear,
in a very bad way. His head has been turned by
too much learning, and the stroke of lightning will
never let him be right again. The Secretary Scott
is a treasure; and I am very well mounted: Hardy
is every thing I could wish or desire.
Our days pass so much alike that,
having described one, you have them all. We now
breakfast by candlelight; and all retire, at eight
o’clock, to bed.
Naples, I fancy, is in a very bad
way, in regard to money. They have not, or pretend
not to have, enough to pay their officers; and, I
verily believe, if Acton was to give up his place,
that it would become a province of France. Only
think of Buonaparte’s writing to the Queen,
to desire her influence to turn out Acton! She
answered, properly: at least, so says Mr. Elliot,
who knows more of Naples than any of us; God
help him! and General Acton has, I believe,
more power than ever.
By Gibbs’s letter, I see, he
has sent over about my accounts at Bronte. He
can have no interest in being unfriendly to me.
Why should he? I want no great matters from him;
and he can want nothing from me, that it is not my
duty to give his Sovereigns: therefore, why should
he be against us! For my part, my conduct will
not alter, whether he is or not.
Our friend, Sir Alexander, is a very
great diplomatic character; and, even an Admiral must
not know what he is negotiating about: although
you will scarcely believe, that the Bey of Tunis sent
the man at my desire.
You shall judge viz.
“The Tunisian Envoy is still here, negotiating.
He is a moderate man; and, apparently, the best disposed
of any I ever did business with.” Could
even the oldest diplomatic character be drier?
I hate such parade of nonsense! But, I will turn
from such stuff.
You ask me, Do you do right to give
Charlotte things? I shall only say, my dear Emma,
whatever you do in that way, I shall always approve.
I only wish, I had more power than I have! But,
somehow, my mind was not sharp enough for prize-money.
Lord Keith would have made twenty thousand pounds,
and I have not made six thousand.
Poor Mr. Este, how I pity him! but,
what shall I do with him? However, if he comes,
I shall shew him all the kindness in my power.
October 22d.
The vessel is just going off.
I have not a scrap of news! Only, be assured
of my most affectionate regard.
Remember me kindly to Charlotte.
Shall always love those that are good to Horatia.
I will write her by another opportunity.
Remember me to Mrs. Cadogan.
You may be sure, I do not forget Charles, who has
not been well;
Captain Capel is very good to him.
I am, ever, for ever, my dearest Emma,
your most faithful and affectionate