May God bless you, my dear Lady; and be assured, I ever am, and shall be, your obliged and affectionate
Off La Valette, Feb. 20, 1800.
MY DEAR LADY HAMILTON,
Had you seen the Peer receive me, I know not what you would have done; but, I can guess. But never mind! I told him, that I had made a vow, if I took the Genereux by myself, it was my intention to strike my flag. To which he made no answer.
If I am well enough, I intend to write a letter to Prince Leopold, and to send him the French Admiral’s flag; which I hope you will approve of, as it was taken on the coast of his father’s kingdom, and by as faithful a subject as any in his dominions.
I have had no communication with the shore; therefore, have seen neither Ball, Troubridge, or Graham: nor with the Lion; when I have, I shall not forget all your messages, and little Jack. I only want to know your wishes, that I may, at least, appear grateful, by attending to them.
My head aches dreadfully, and I have none here to give me a moment’s comfort.
I send the packet to General Acton; as I think it may go quicker, and he will be flattered by presenting the flag and letter to the Prince.
Malta, I think, will fall very soon, if these other corvettes do not get in.
Pray, make my best regards acceptable to Mrs. Cadogan, Miss Knight, little Mary Re Giovanni, Gibbs, &c. &c. and ever believe me your truly faithful and affectionate
June 16, [1800.] Seven o’Clock.
MY DEAR LADY HAMILTON,
What a difference—but it was to be—from your house to a boat!
Fresh breeze of wind, the ship four or five leagues from the mole; getting on board into truly a hog-stye of a cabin, leaking like a sieve, consequently floating with water. What a change!
Not a felucca near us. I saw them come out this morning, but they think there is too much wind and swell.
Pray, do not keep the cutter; as I have not a thing, if any thing important should arrive, to send you.
Only think of Tyson’s being left!
May God bless you, my dear Lady; and believe me, ever, your truly affectionate and sincere friend,
Lady Hamilton—Put the candlestick on my writing-table.
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.