Even before Admiral Nelson's arrival at Naples, Lachavardiere, the French consul for Palermo, who had just escaped from Egypt, thus laments the decline of French influence, and announces the triumph of the English. "The French name," says he, "is heard here with horror. The king is arming eighty thousand men. The cabinet either refuses to answer, or answers with insolence, the notes presented by our Charge des Affaires, La Chaise, who is an excellent republican. The French are forbade to enter the country, and the most extravagant predilection prevails in favour of the English. The people of Sicily are still more incensed against us. Our vessels are driven out of their ports; and, wherever the French appear, the populace pelt them with stones, and sometimes fire on them. Not one French cockade is suffered. In a word, there only wants Frenchmen, in order to celebrate again Sicilian vespers. The day before yesterday"--(this letter is dated the 20th of September)--"two English vessels arrived; and Nelson himself is expected to-morrow, in a third. To give you some idea of the favour in which the enemies of our country are held here, you must know that, with my own eyes, I saw the King of Naples go more than two leagues to sea, to meet the English, to applaud and congratulate them. The two vessels which are arrived have brought two French officers with them, one of them is Vice-Admiral Blanquet." Lachavardiere also gives an account of the battle; which, however, contains nothing of peculiar importance. One circumstance, indeed, is sufficiently singular--"Admiral Brueys," he says, "was wounded in the head and the hand: but continued to command, till a cannon-ball cut him in two; and," adds this Frenchman, "_he lived a quarter of an hour afterwards!_" The integrity of our heroic Nelson seems to have revolted at the characteristic falsehood and deceit so generally experienced in the French. He could not be prevailed on, by his friends at Naples, to visit Admiral Blanquet, who had his nose shot off, and was otherwise dreadfully wounded in the face. On this occasion, he seems to have adopted all the rough bluntness of a British tar. He had beaten him, he said, and would not insult him. "Seeing me," added the hero, "will only put him in mind of his misfortune. I have an antipathy to Frenchmen; which is so powerful, that I must, I think, have received it from my mother, at my birth."