that you are happy, Nelson.’
‘Look at me, Emma, and tell me how you cannot know that I am the happiest man alive.’
But behind the joy in his eyes lay a hint of anxiety. She had a pregnancy that would need to be disguised, and a birth that would have to take place with the maximum discretion, and it was something she knew as well as he.
‘I fear I cannot advise you, my love.’
‘I have a notion of what to do,’ said Emma. As usual her mother had come up with the solution. Patiently she explained it to her lover,who nodded with a confidence he did not feel. ‘And that, Nelson, is why we must travel overland.’
‘Put both your hands in mine, Emma,’ he said. ‘Whatever happens, that is my child. For the sake of the unborn and you, all discretion must be shown. But should that fail, never fear that I will abandon you, Emma, for I will not.’
Sir William was angry with Nelson, because he had still hoped to persuade Emma to travel by sea. Now the man he relied on as his ally was waxing lyrical about the benefits of travelling overland: the way they would be greeted at the Austrian court, his desire to visit the states of north Germany, how his health, which had been appalling, would benefit from the numerous spa towns along the way.
So Sir William found himself buying, albeit with Nelson’s money, a large travelling coach for them, with a lesser conveyance for their attendants, and arranging for possessions they would not need on the journey to be shipped home. Given the size of her party it was necessary for Maria Carolina to travel a good forty-eight hours ahead, otherwise Nelson and the Hamiltons would have shifted to find anywhere decent to lay their heads.
The Queen had gone and was not a witness to the moment when the most successful admiral Britannia had ever sent into the Mediterranean struck his blue rear-admiral’s flag, to the sound of banging guns and bosun’s whistles, and the very obvious absence of Lord Keith.
Nelson had a despatch from Lord Spencer in his hand – a reprimand for his decision to quit Malta three months before in flagrant disregard of Keith’s orders. Spencer asserted that he had been ‘inactive at a foreign court,’ and that it would be better if he struck his flag and came home rather than let such a situation continue.
Giddings had his own dunnage in the barge as he ordered it rowed ashore for the last time, with the shrouds and yards of Foudroyant and all the other British warships in the harbour manned to cheer Nelson on his way. Every officer and midshipman raised his hat, some openly in tears at the departure of one who had brought many of them such glory. Nelson had to struggle for control, but his resolve held until Giddings, ashore and having waved the barge crew back to the ship, handed him a note.
My Lord,
It is with extreme grief that we find you are about to leave us. We have been along with you, tho’ not in the same ship, in every engagement your Lordship has been in, both by land and sea, and most humbly beg of your Lordship to let us proceed with you to England as your boat crew in any ship or vessel, or in any way that may seem pleasing to your Lordship.
My Lord, pardon the rude style of seamen who are but little used to writing and believe us to be my Lord,
Your most humble and obedient servants,
Barge crew of the Foudroyant, late of Vanguard.
‘Damn the First Lord,’ said a damp-eyed Nelson.
‘Amen to that, your honour,’ said Giddings.
6
1800
The sight of the thin strip of land lit by the low eastern sun produced mixed feelings in Nelson’s breast. It was the coast of Norfolk, and wherever he had gone in the world it was a place for which he hankered: nothing had ever stood comparison to his home county. The people were honest, the women fair and faithful, the men bred to the sea, slow to anger, but terriers in a battle. The landscape, be it the flat, dyke-cut marshland or the low hills to the north, entranced him and, like the
‘Look at me, Emma, and tell me how you cannot know that I am the happiest man alive.’
But behind the joy in his eyes lay a hint of anxiety. She had a pregnancy that would need to be disguised, and a birth that would have to take place with the maximum discretion, and it was something she knew as well as he.
‘I fear I cannot advise you, my love.’
‘I have a notion of what to do,’ said Emma. As usual her mother had come up with the solution. Patiently she explained it to her lover,who nodded with a confidence he did not feel. ‘And that, Nelson, is why we must travel overland.’
‘Put both your hands in mine, Emma,’ he said. ‘Whatever happens, that is my child. For the sake of the unborn and you, all discretion must be shown. But should that fail, never fear that I will abandon you, Emma, for I will not.’
Sir William was angry with Nelson, because he had still hoped to persuade Emma to travel by sea. Now the man he relied on as his ally was waxing lyrical about the benefits of travelling overland: the way they would be greeted at the Austrian court, his desire to visit the states of north Germany, how his health, which had been appalling, would benefit from the numerous spa towns along the way.
So Sir William found himself buying, albeit with Nelson’s money, a large travelling coach for them, with a lesser conveyance for their attendants, and arranging for possessions they would not need on the journey to be shipped home. Given the size of her party it was necessary for Maria Carolina to travel a good forty-eight hours ahead, otherwise Nelson and the Hamiltons would have shifted to find anywhere decent to lay their heads.
The Queen had gone and was not a witness to the moment when the most successful admiral Britannia had ever sent into the Mediterranean struck his blue rear-admiral’s flag, to the sound of banging guns and bosun’s whistles, and the very obvious absence of Lord Keith.
Nelson had a despatch from Lord Spencer in his hand – a reprimand for his decision to quit Malta three months before in flagrant disregard of Keith’s orders. Spencer asserted that he had been ‘inactive at a foreign court,’ and that it would be better if he struck his flag and came home rather than let such a situation continue.
Giddings had his own dunnage in the barge as he ordered it rowed ashore for the last time, with the shrouds and yards of Foudroyant and all the other British warships in the harbour manned to cheer Nelson on his way. Every officer and midshipman raised his hat, some openly in tears at the departure of one who had brought many of them such glory. Nelson had to struggle for control, but his resolve held until Giddings, ashore and having waved the barge crew back to the ship, handed him a note.
My Lord,
It is with extreme grief that we find you are about to leave us. We have been along with you, tho’ not in the same ship, in every engagement your Lordship has been in, both by land and sea, and most humbly beg of your Lordship to let us proceed with you to England as your boat crew in any ship or vessel, or in any way that may seem pleasing to your Lordship.
My Lord, pardon the rude style of seamen who are but little used to writing and believe us to be my Lord,
Your most humble and obedient servants,
Barge crew of the Foudroyant, late of Vanguard.
‘Damn the First Lord,’ said a damp-eyed Nelson.
‘Amen to that, your honour,’ said Giddings.
6
1800
The sight of the thin strip of land lit by the low eastern sun produced mixed feelings in Nelson’s breast. It was the coast of Norfolk, and wherever he had gone in the world it was a place for which he hankered: nothing had ever stood comparison to his home county. The people were honest, the women fair and faithful, the men bred to the sea, slow to anger, but terriers in a battle. The landscape, be it the flat, dyke-cut marshland or the low hills to the north, entranced him and, like the
Similar Books
