Captain Troubridge wrote to condole with Captain Darby, of the Bellerophon, for his wounds and the number of people killed in his ship; but added, that had his sufferings been fifty times as much, he had rather have been in his place than have borne the anguish he felt from running aground and being kept out of the action; that he had found great difficulty in keeping from shooting himself; and that he even then frequently shed tears. Captain Darby and Captain Gould, who was present when he received the letter, both wept.
The estate of Bronté, near Mount Etna, so called from one of the Cyclops, was given by the King to Lord Nelson. It is a Dukedom, with estates valued at between two and three thousand pounds sterling per annum. His Majesty also presented him with a sword set with diamonds which had belonged to his father, the King of Spain, accompanied by a letter, saying, that as this was the sword with which his father had conquered Naples, it ought to belong to Lord Nelson, who had recovered that kingdom. Every officer who came in with good news received a present from the Queen, of greater or less value, according to the circumstances and his rank in our service. She also gave some very valuable jewels to Lady Hamilton. The Order of St. Ferdinand was instituted by the King for the recovery of his Italian States, and crosses were bestowed upon our officers, and upon the Neapolitan Ministers, and others attached to the Court who had followed the Royal Family to Palermo. A Neapolitan one day remarked that this Order had not been conferred on a single Sicilian. A gentleman of the island being present, and thinking this was said in an invidious manner, replied, “His Majesty is perfectly right to give his new Order to the few Neapolitans who have remained faithful. Had he given it to us, it must have been to every inhabitant of the island, for all have been true to him.” The Sicilians certainly did show great loyalty, and were delighted with the presence of their sovereign, but it must also be remembered that they had a deep-rooted and hereditary dislike to the French. They always spoke with pride of the Sicilian Vespers, and would at any time have been ready to repeat them. Similar feelings prevailed in Sardinia and Malta, without any historical motive, but there is an independence in the character of islanders which is not easily overcome, unless biased by commercial speculations.
The Turkish squadron, commanded by Cadir Bey, came to Palermo (1799), with two other ships of the line beside his own, under the orders of a Vice and a Rear-Admiral, and a frigate called the Eagle of the Sea, the Captain of which was a young man related to the Grand Seignior, whom the Turks called “the mad Prince,” because he was very romantic. I recollect that one day, while walking in the garden, he happened to see my little dog, which he took up in his arms, and recited some verses to it, apparently with great affection. There was a Greek, who kept a coffee-house at Palermo, and served as interpreter to the Turkish officers, but he could not exactly translate these verses, and all I could learn was that they were “extempore.” He then told me that the Prince had desired him to say that one day, as he was riding along the shore of the Bosphorus, a spirited horse threw him into the sea, when a dog jumped in after and saved him; for which reason he had imposed on himself the duty of paying a compliment in verse to those animals whenever he found a proper opportunity for so doing. A beautiful fête was given at the palace for the recovery of the kingdom of Naples, in the name of Prince Leopold, who was then about nine years of age. His tutor and the Queen made all the arrangements, and the former composed a very pretty cantata on the occasion. The Turkish Admiral went in the carriage with us; the Vice and Rear-Admirals, with the Captain of the Eagle of the Sea, in another, but we could not persuade the latter to put on a caftan like the others. He insisted on going in his short dress and trousers, with bare arms and ankles, declaring that it was disrespectful to appear before the Queen in “a great coat;” just as we should think it wrong to wear a shawl in the presence of their Majesties. His turban was adorned with fine jewels. His dress was of purple silk, richly embroidered with silver, and his slippers of the same colour, which exclusively belongs to members of the imperial family. His linen was remarkably fine, and beautifully washed; his trousers were equally recherché, and without doubt he was the model of a Constantinopolitan dandy.
After the performance of the concert there was a magnificent firework, representing the blowing up of L’Orient at the battle of the Nile. The Turks were delighted with this compliment to our navy, but the Russians did not appear equally well pleased. The gardens were beautifully illuminated.
The Honourable Samuel Barrington, the younger son of an Irish Peer, was sent into the Navy in his extreme youth, and at an early age was made a post-captain. He was one of those very few persons who have many friends and scarcely one enemy. He was not brilliant in understanding, and his appearance was plain, but his heart was excellent. He loved his friends, was charitable and humane to an extensive circle, and constantly kind and liberal to his family.
He was a good officer, and of the right school. Not ambitious, neither was he eager after fame. He wished to do his duty, and he did it well. If he had ambition in any the slightest degree, it was to get on in the service without making use of the powerful interest of his brother, who was for many years in the Ministry; and for this purpose he endeavoured to have his ship better manned, to get under weigh sooner, be sooner out of dock, &c. &c., than other people. It is not impossible that his rank in life was often of service to him on these occasions, but it was not his intention to avail himself of that advantage. He was a father to his officers and seamen, and was so generally liked in the Navy, that it was remarked that no company of sea-officers ever met without drinking his health.
When he was an Admiral he never desired to be a commander-in-chief, for he did not like responsibility, and he was envious of no man. He spent his fortune in hospitality and acts of charity, avoiding all ostentation, not only because he had no taste for it, but because he would not hurt the feelings of his brother officers by living in a manner which those of more limited incomes could not have imitated without distressing themselves.[[127]] He was never violent in politics, and hatred seemed banished from his nature. I believe Admiral Barrington to have been a sincere Christian.