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@dukeofwillington
Emergency commission
We found out our cat got a cherry eye. When we went to see the vet, we were told that a surgery is necessary, and the bill is very expensive. This can cause a heavy burden to my mom and I hope that I can support her through doing commissions, any donation is greatly appreciated.
Commissions Open! Click to see Kelvin's commission menu.
Kelvin has been a very reliable artist to work with and look what he's done for my comms earlier! 💯💯💯
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Happy birthday to my dearest friend Catherine(or Charles👀)!!! Ofc the Band of brothers have to show up to her birthday!!🎉🥳🥳
Thank you for being my friend!!
Left to right: berry, hardy(holding the balloons), Collingwood, troubridge, Charles, Nelson, foley, ball, Fremantle
Thank YOU for being my friend! (And for being the platypus with a party hat - you can steal the whole cake)
We few, we happy few, we Band of Brothers: the story of the Nile heroes as well as Charles and Kelvin who just tagged along without commanding any ships 🫡
The Eve Before Waterloo, Duke of Wellington at the Trumpet Inn, by Robert Alexander Hillingford.
Throughout the Napoleonic Wars the experience of battle was the exception rather than the rule in the lives of the men and women of the army. It was in any case never the intention that the wives who accompanied the troops on campaign should become involved in actual fighting. When the order 'women and baggage to the rear' was given, they were supposed to do just that, and leave the men to face the enemy.
This was a moment for the taking of what, in all too many cases, was a final farewell. [...] It was the same in June 1815, in Brussels, when the order came for the troops to march towards Waterloo. The city was at once full of marching men. One young lady who saw these departures was Charlotte Eaton, who had gone over to Belgium with her brother and sister on 10 June. She had been at the Duchess of Richmond's ball, but was woken from her sleep by the commotion as the regiments assembled and were despatched southward. She watched the troops from her window.
Numbers were taking leave of their wives and children, perhaps for the last time, and many a veteran's rough cheek was wet with tears of sorrow. One poor fellow, immediately under our windows, turned back again and again to bid his wife farewell, and take his baby once more in his arms; and I saw him hastily brush away a tear with the sleeve of his coat, as he gave her back the child for the last time, wrung her hand and ran off to join his company which was drawn up on the other side of the Place Royale.
She also noted that many of the soldiers' wives marched out with their husbands, and saw one young English lady on horseback, an officer's wife, riding along with his regiment towards what was to be the battlefield.
— David Clammer, Ladies, Wives and Women: British Army Wives in the Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars 1793-1815.
I don't really think "Felix vitae claritate, felix opportunitate mortis" is necessarily Nelson-friendly language - how can we presume it's "fortunate" to die "in a timely manner" if we already know he'd rather live on to enjoy a well-deserved family life with his beloved ones? Obviously he's very willing to die for his work, cause and country, but that's about valour and commitment, not a joy or a celebration. He was long past his era of seeking a glorious ending marked by martyrdom because there's the land awaiting his return plus he's already garlanded with fame and admiration and he's well aware of that. I suppose you could say he's "fortunate in the distinction of his life, which was further advanced by the timeliness of his death" - that's much more to my liking lol
Gripping, action-packed, RTS Award-winning true story of the Battle of Trafalgar, through the eyes of Ship's Surgeon William Beatty, from be
Haven't seen anyone else mention this documentary on here. If you're into Nelson/ Age of Sail it's well worth a look.
It's a documentary/drama adaptation of William Beatty's first hand account of Trafalgar and the death of Nelson. It's pretty low budget, but the performances are really great and it gets quite emotional in places. I think it does a good job of capturing Beatty's personality.
Bonus points for casting someone who actually looks like Nelson.
The aftershock of watching this...😭
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The gang(no saumarez)
"He had another side and that was a ruthless streak, never better shown than in the very callous way that he treated his wife. One can make all sorts of excuses. One can point to the fact that it was a marriage of convivence, that it was a marriage of esteem rather than of love and lust. And that he had found in Emma Hamilton a woman that perfectly matched him in every way and inspired him. But even when those allowances are made, the way that he treated poor Fanny Nelson was really very cruel.
One has to take that as part of the rich tapestry that makes up the man. No one is perfectly pure and wonderful. And one of the great problems of the Victorian portrayal of Nelson was that they tried to twist this very human, flawed man into this impossible hero.
One of the great things about modern scholarship is that we're learning that one doesn't have to be perfect in order to be great, and that great men inevitably have great weaknesses."
Colin White, Head Curator, Royal Naval Museum, in The Great Commanders, "Horatio Nelson."
Trust Colin White he speaks words of wisdom 💯‼️
You think they had to do this to Nelson to make sure he didn’t freeze himself in the cold
It was extremely cold, and I wished him to put on a greatcoat of mine which was in the boat: ‘No, I am not cold, my anxiety for my country will keep me warm.’ The master of HMS Bellona remembered such an exchange with Nelson on 19 April 1801.
And Midshipman Kelvin remembered another. He offered a greatcoat and threw it upon his Admiral, to which the hero of Copenhagen smiled and replied: ‘That is certainly very considerate of you, Middie. Now would you be so kind to draw us something that reminds the whole Fleet of spring?’
Kelvin complied. He always did, and more importantly, he always knew what to draw. The Fleet always knew what to expect.
I shall resign from my job in order to stay at home and study this video 24/7
It’s a sunny day in London
We have taken away all the sunshine from where Kelvin lives *gasps* but yeah I can't believe we've kept the sun for an entire week so far. Look at that smug smile from the beautiful column.
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Who is up for some Nelson-posting? I tried restoring the lost Lieutenant Nelson portrait from 1781.
There must be a single word that can accurately describe how I feel seeing my childhood heroes hugging in this blissful glow, giving best friends vibes and ensuring England's got their backs (and vice versa)
Good morning wellson fans
They look even happier in Kelvin's sketch than in Roblox 😆😆😆
Modern au Nelson cosplaying as Nelson
Other captains in the modern au!
Berry: artist
Foley: psychiatrist
Ball: lawyer
Troubridge: detective inspector
Some shenanigans 
I can see M!Nelson becoming confused at first about whether he’s him or Nelson .. an identity crisis before he comes clear that he is Nelson and himself😆
And this life is in as full bloom as any other, because Nelson is the one living it and Kelvin is the one creating it 💐
More
Wellington in the modern au
Nelson and his family
Nelson with Fanny and Josiah
“never trust your sibling” and “I wish Mum dates Horatio cuz he steals me away and buys me lollies when Mum explicitly said not to indulge my sweet tooth”
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More modern au
Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before
Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar
And you'll live as you've never lived before
Softly, deftly music shall embrace you
Hear it, feel it secretly reminding you
Open up your mind, let your histories unwind
Floating, falling, memories on probation
See me, trust me, for each realisation
Let the dream begin, let the destiny wind in
To the power of the story that Kelvin writes
The anxious ones always leave
When I was told to march right into the crops tall enough to reach my knees, I missed my own drumbeats. The Colour Sergeant said I was slowing everyone down. I kept thinking about the apple core I left behind: it might grow into a tree. Those flamboyant French planted trees of liberty in Malta. What would the Dutch call my tree? If I ever had an opportunity to come back to Hougoumont in the next few years, I could tear off a bit of my shirt to tie a ribbon around its neck. The apples might be smaller than usual, and potentially sour. But the locals might see it as a messenger from heaven above.
I could not tell what those crops were. Stamping on them and trying not to overthink about the upcoming local harvests, I heard their knuckles break. My drum dragged itself across their bent spines, its dark red paint around the rim scarcely bothered by their dusty yellow, the mellow green. Those were such inferior colours. The crops put up with us pushing them around, their whispers lowering themselves into the soil.
Weymouth would know how to attend the plants. He grew up in fields which extended their seafoam into the next county. I saw him a few days ago hovering around us, but the 44th didn’t enjoy his company: he consistently complained about the Colonel, and occasionally even Nosey himself. Many of our men worried that his careless tongue might cost us our reputation. Given how talkative he was, Weymouth must have been practising his gossips with wheat, turnips, barley, and clover. I spoke only about one tenth of my thoughts, and that felt like a fourth of what he mustered. Wherever he was – if he survived Quatre Bras – I wished he did not have to march through another farmer’s work.
I hated how loud these ill-fortuned stems and leaves whimpered. They could have complained to any other soldier: there were plenty of us, and much better listeners amongst the veterans – especially Fulcher and Jenkins, who never turned a wailing down. Perhaps they could hear the rattling below our feet as clearly as I did; I wished I was not the only one. Drumming was already a lonely job. Imagining my next conversation with Nancy, whenever she next came around carrying laundry baskets, would be another example. I was too timid to ask anyone else about what possibilities lay ahead. When Nancy folded her apron in her most vivacious manner, I avoided staring at her hands for too long, but she never seemed to mind.
There were a few rumours about the next battle being the last battle. But I wasn’t one raised in the school of optimism. I knew they said it every now and then, just to keep our heads up – not that we needed any external help in doing so, since we had the stocks. My mother taught me to write poems: however, once she realised I wrote better poems than her, she warned me what might come out of the pencil. She tried very hard to steal me away from what she called ‘a destined doom’. Clearly a war provided more certainty. Clearly it was far more likely that I might survive here than on pages, and I might stop hearing sounds I was not supposed to shudder against: the ground beneath us collected from crops whatever remained – the groans, the curses, the foreign language. It was foreign but essentially endearing as it bred our allies. They grew up singing in and eating Dutch. They marched somewhere behind us, and I often thought about them.
The crops all tried to keep their heads up. We silenced them further and further down, and only a few soldiers looked back. A few turned their heads and murmured something about ruining the fields. A few echoed with the loss. I was not one of them. The stress was always on the next beating of my drum.
