Lord Nelson, Captain Hardy, his vainglorious Monument and the church at Portesham
Admiral Nelson was one of my boyhood heroes - I would look at his slight figure, as portrayed on the pages of my Ladybird Book - Nelson was shown on the front cover, his empty sleeve pinned to his chest - he held a telescope in his left hand - with his bright decorations and gold braid, he stood in front of a line of signal flags - smoke filled the air - you could just see, to the right of Nelson, Captain Hardy, with his hands clasped behind his back - a sailor with a pigtail raised the signals - inside the book, I'm sure there was a picture of Nelson as a midshipman, fending off a polar bear -
I was taken to see the Victory by my dad - I stared at the corner in the orlop deck where Nelson died - years later, I saw his undress uniform coat - you could see the hole torn into the shoulder by the musket ball - when I thought of Nelson's last words, they seemed so sad and poignant -
In Old Portsmouth, you can still walk through the Sally Port - the archway through the thick stone walls opens out onto Spithead - Nelson walked through here, with Hardy, on his way to Trafalgar - I thought of his words, when he heard the cheers of the ragged crowd - I had their huzzas before - I have their hearts now -
Hardy later retired to his family estates at Portesham - we walked, in March last year, to his Monument - a boastful tower - it is supposed to be shaped like a spyglass - the name of the architect is Arthur Dyke Aclande-Troyt -
I was more taken by the church - I admired its neat tower and Jacobean pulpit - painted upon a wooden panel was the royal coat of arms - I looked up at the lion and unicorn, both of them fairly well endowed -
In the graveyard, I looked at the lichened gravestones, with their cherubs and skulls - at the top of one gravestone, there appeared to be carvings of palm trees -
Within the church, there were simple monuments - underfoot, interments were marked by starkly carved lettering, deeply incised into the stone -
Admiral Nelson was one of my boyhood heroes - I would look at his slight figure, as portrayed on the pages of my Ladybird Book - Nelson was shown on the front cover, his empty sleeve pinned to his chest - he held a telescope in his left hand - with his bright decorations and gold braid, he stood in front of a line of signal flags - smoke filled the air - you could just see, to the right of Nelson, Captain Hardy, with his hands clasped behind his back - a sailor with a pigtail raised the signals - inside the book, I'm sure there was a picture of Nelson as a midshipman, fending off a polar bear -
I was taken to see the Victory by my dad - I stared at the corner in the orlop deck where Nelson died - years later, I saw his undress uniform coat - you could see the hole torn into the shoulder by the musket ball - when I thought of Nelson's last words, they seemed so sad and poignant -
In Old Portsmouth, you can still walk through the Sally Port - the archway through the thick stone walls opens out onto Spithead - Nelson walked through here, with Hardy, on his way to Trafalgar - I thought of his words, when he heard the cheers of the ragged crowd - I had their huzzas before - I have their hearts now -
Hardy later retired to his family estates at Portesham - we walked, in March last year, to his Monument - a boastful tower - it is supposed to be shaped like a spyglass - the name of the architect is Arthur Dyke Aclande-Troyt -
I was more taken by the church - I admired its neat tower and Jacobean pulpit - painted upon a wooden panel was the royal coat of arms - I looked up at the lion and unicorn, both of them fairly well endowed -
In the graveyard, I looked at the lichened gravestones, with their cherubs and skulls - at the top of one gravestone, there appeared to be carvings of palm trees -
Within the church, there were simple monuments - underfoot, interments were marked by starkly carved lettering, deeply incised into the stone -
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