32. EXT. LONDON STREET. DAY
C.S RUNNING FEET, of people this time.
They are jostling and pushing as they
hasten to join a cheering mob further
down the street. Hurried shouts of "What's
happening?" "It's him." "It's
Nelson!"
The camera PANS along and up with the
people, and reaches a distinguished looking
man, who stands on the pavement looking
towards the crowd. This is LORD MINTO.
He starts to walk towards the scene.
CUT TO:
33. THE SAME
Shooting down into the CROWD. Perhaps
a hundred people are pushing, shouting
and cheering. In the centre is NELSON,
as usual in his uniform, smilingly trying
to make his way along the street whilst
shaking hands with a dozen people at
once. LORD MINTO reaches the crowd, and
pushes his way through to NELSON. He
grabs his arm, and NELSON turns.
NELSON
(In delighted surprise)
Minto!
LORD MINTO
(Shouting above the crowd)
This is hot work. Do you need a bodyguard?
NELSON
I'm going to the silver-smiths. Come with me.
He points to the shop a few yards down
the road. They make their way towards
it, both now being mobbed by the crowd.
They finally reach the shop, above which
are written the words:
MESSRS. SALTERS SILVERSMITHS
CUT TO:
34. INT. SILVERSMITHS
It is a venerable and high-class establishment,
where the quiet opulent atmosphere is
in marked contrast to the noisy scene
outside.
NELSON and LORD MINTO burst in, panting
and disarranged, and collect themselves
while the CROWD surges outside the windows.
LORD MINTO
Whew! It must be worse than fighting the French!
Does this happen wherever you appear?
NELSON
(nodding)
It gets a little wearing.
LORD MINTO
You love it all the same.
NELSON
(smiling)
Well it's pleasing to one's vanity, I must admit.
(warmly) It's good to see you, Minto!
LORD MINTO
And you, my friend.
NELSON
When are you going to visit us in Merton? Emma will
be delighted to see you.
LORD MINTO
At the first opportunity.
NELSON
It's one long party there. Half the world coming
and going. I can scarcely get to my own bed at
night.
LORD MINTO
(laughing)
Trust Lady Hamilton to make the most of your home-coming.
The proprietor of the establishment,
MR. SALTERS, approaches, brimming with
courtesy and deference.
SALTERS
My Lord Nelson, how honoured we are to see you again.
NELSON
Thank you, Mr. Salters. May I present Lord Minto.
SALTERS
(With a courtly bow)
And you, my Lord.
NELSON
You can advise me, Minto. I want a gift for Horatia.
(to SALTERS)
Something in silver for a little girl of four years
with highly sophisticated tastes.
SALTERS
Certainly, my lord. This way please.
They move to a counter, where he searches
amongst his wares.
LORD MINTO
Where has your old enemy Villeneuve got to then,
Nelson? The City is buzzing with rumours.
NELSON
So is the Government. Every Cabinet Minister has
a different theory. But if we don't hear that Calder
had made contact within the next few days, I'll
wager they're all wrong.
LORD MINTO
(Smiling)
Which of course is what you're praying for.
NELSON
What?
LORD MINTO
If Calder has your battle, you'll be eaten with regret
the rest of your life.
NELSON
(shaking his head)
My battles are over, I hope, Minto. It would break
Emma's heart if I went to sea again.
SALTERS
(producing a tray of silverware)
Here we are, my Lord. May I ask, is the present for
your god-daughter?
NELSON
(hesitating fractionally, with a glance at MINTO)
Er... yes, my god-daughter.
SALTERS
Then I venture to suggest something like this.
Holds up a child's silver cup.
A charming little piece.
NELSON takes it and peers at it, then
hands it to LORD MINTO.
NELSON
How is the engraving, Minto?
LORD MINTO
(taking the cup)
Is your sight worse?
NELSON
It's not so good. How is the cup?
LORD MINTO
Delightful.
NELSON
Then we'll look no further.
(to SALTERS)
I want the inscription, "To my much-loved Horatia",
and my usual initials.
SALTERS
We'll deliver it as soon as it's ready, my lord.
LORD MINTO
(concerned)
Have you consulted your doctor?
NELSON
Yes, but as it's the only good eye I have left, the
coward won't operate.
(cheerfully)
It will last me yet a year or two, I fancy.
(to SALTERS)
What is the cost?
SALTERS
(Waving a hand)
A gift, my Lord. Our small contribution to the recognition
of your great services to our country.
NELSON
(warmly)
I'm touched, Mr. Salters. Thank you.
The MAN bows, smiling. NELSON turns
to MINTO.
Now, are you willing to brave the mob
again?
LORD MINTO
Let's slip out the back way.
NELSON
And disappoint my following? Ah Minto, I get little
chance of acclaim at sea - you mustn't deprive
me of it here. Come on, hold onto your hat!
He takes LORD MINTO by the arm, and
they plunge out into the cheering throng
again.
CUT TO:
35. INT. 10 DOWNING STREET. DAY
Sudden contrasting silence.
C.S. WILLIAM PITT
At 46 he is an exhausted, disillusioned
man. But his ill-health and his lack
of social charm does not obscure the
determined brilliance of his mind. There
is a knock at his door, and his PRIVATE
SECRETARY enters.
SECRETARY
Lord Nelson has called, sir.
PITT raises his eyebrows.
PITT
On a Sunday?
The SECRETARY nods.
Show him in.
The SECRETARY leaves, and a moment
later NELSON walks briskly in, dressed
now in civilian clothes.
NELSON
Forgive me, Prime Minister. I felt God would allow
me a brief intrusion on your day of rest.
PITT
For Prime Ministers there is no such thing.
He gestures to a chair. NELSON sits.
What calls you from Merton so urgently
on a Sunday?
NELSON
I thought it the only day I might find you available.
PITT
I'm always available for you, Nelson. I was going
to call for you tomorrow in any case.
NELSON raises his eyebrows.
Well?
NELSON
I've been giving much thought to the problem of Villeneuve's
whereabouts, Prime Minister. The Cabinet has decided
his destination must be the West Indies again?
PITT
Yes.
NELSON
I'm sure not.
PITT
Oh?
NELSON
The last time was a diversion. Bonaparte's ultimate
aim must be to combine his fleets. It's his only
hope of commanding the Channel.
PITT
So where will Villeneuve have gone?
NELSON
Either Toulon or Cadiz, where the other large squadrons
are hiding.
PITT ponders this for a moment, then
nods slowly.
PITT
You may be right, my Lord. But not for the reasons
you think.
NELSON regards him curiously.
Bonaparte is withdrawing from Boulogne.
NELSON
(raising his eyebrows)
Withdrawing?
PITT
The Coalition is at last producing results. Russia
is advancing through Poland and the Austrians have
entered Bavaria. He has to turn to protect his
Eastern flank.
NELSON
So the old fox abandons us once again.
PITT
He will therefore need the support of his ships in
the Mediterranean, as you say.
He rises.
But not for long, I suspect. This alliance
won't last any longer than previous ones.
He'll take the time to dispose of another
wretchedly led army or two, then he'll
be back.
Stares distantly out of the window.
Can you explain the endless lust for
power of this man, Nelson? If I took
on any more responsibility I would wish
to cut my throat.
NELSON
(shrugging)
History is littered with such, Prime Minister. It
would seem to be a drug.
PITT
A drug that ravages the world with toil and grief.
Looks steadily at NELSON
We have to destroy this fleet, Nelson.
If we are ever to challenge that Corsican
upstart on his own territory, we must
establish command of the sea once and
for all.
NELSON
(nodding)
Well Villeneuve cannot run for ever.
PITT
But who is to achieve it for us?
NELSON
Calder....
PITT
(brusquely)
Calder has lost the Admiralty's confidence. They're
threatening an inquiry for his showing at the last
encounter.
NELSON
You cannot have a better man than Collingwood.
PITT
(shaking his head)
A fine sailor, but he has not the stature for a grand
event.
He stares at NELSON for a moment.
How is your health, my Lord? You look better than
when you first arrived.
NELSON
(Nodding)
Shore-leave always improves me.
PITT
(dourly)
Perhaps I should try a spell at sea. It might improve
me.
NELSON smiles. There is a beat.
You are the only one, Nelson.
NELSON
(Protesting)
I'm honoured, Prime Minister, but I.......
PITT
(cutting him short)
No point in discussing it. You are the one the people
want. They're tired of this wretched war, this wretched
mess of governments, this wretched clapped-out monarchy,
and this wretched old face here. They're looking
to me for a trump card and you're the only one I
have to offer them.
He looks at NELSON with the merest
flicker of a smile.
I've heard it said that, while a sailor
is at sea, his only thought is of home.
But while Nelson is at home his only
thought is of the sea.
NELSON
It used to be so.
PITT
If you are prepared to make Sunday morning trips
to the capital just to discuss the theoretical
whereabouts of French fleets, it seems it might
still be so.
(Pause)
England needs you, Lord Nelson….
*
