RELEASE FROM ACTIVE SERVICE DURING THE PEACE OF AMIENS.--HOME LIFE AT
MERTON.--PUBLIC INCIDENTS.
OCTOBER, 1801--MAY, 1803. AGE, 43-44.
During the brief interval between his return from the Baltic, July
I,1801, and his taking command of the Squadron on a Particular
Service, on the 27th of the same month, Nelson had made his home in
England with the Hamiltons, to whose house in Piccadilly he went
immediately upon his arrival in London. Whatever doubt may have
remained in his wife's mind, as to the finality of their parting in
the previous January, or whatever trace of hesitation may then have
existed in his own, had been definitively removed by letters during
his absence. To her he wrote on the 4th of March, immediately before
the expedition sailed from Yarmouth: "Josiah[39] is to have another
ship and to go abroad, if the Thalia cannot soon be got ready. I have
done _all_ for him, and he may again, as he has often done before,
wish me to break my neck, and be abetted in it by his friends, who are
likewise my enemies; but I have done my duty as an honest, generous
man, and I neither want or wish for anybody to care what becomes of
me, whether I return, or am left in the Baltic. Living, I have done
all in my power for you, and if dead, you will find I have done the
same; therefore my only wish is, to be left to myself: and wishing you
every happiness, believe that I am, your affectionate Nelson and
Bronté." Upon this letter Lady Nelson endorsed: "This is My Lord
Nelson's Letter of dismissal, which so astonished me that I
immediately sent it to Mr. Maurice Nelson,[40] who was sincerely
attached to me, for his advice. He desired me not to take the least
notice of it, as his brother seemed to have forgot himself."
A separation preceded and caused by such circumstances as this was,
could not fail to be attended with bitterness on both sides; yet one
could have wished to see in a letter which is believed, and probably
was intended, to be the last ever addressed by him to her, some
recollection, not only of what he himself had done for his stepson,
but that once, to use his own expression, "the boy" had "saved his
life;" and that, after all, if he was under obligations to Nelson, he
would have been more than youth, had no intemperance of expression
mingled with the resentment he felt for the slights offered his mother
in the face of the world. With Nelson's natural temperament and
previous habits of thought, however, it was imperative, for his peace
of mind, to justify his course of action to himself; and this he could
do only by dwelling upon the wrong done him by those who, in the eyes
of men generally, seemed, and must still seem, the wronged. Of what
passed between himself and Lady Nelson, we know too little to
apportion the blame of a transaction in which she appears chiefly as
the sufferer. Nisbet, except in the gallantry and coolness shown by
him at Teneriffe, has not the same claim to consideration, and his
career had undoubtedly occasioned great and legitimate anxiety to
Nelson, whose urgency with St. Vincent was primarily the cause of a
premature promotion, which spoiled the future of an officer, otherwise
fairly promising.[41] If the relations between the two had not been
so soon strained by Nelson's attentions to Lady Hamilton, things might
have turned out better, through the influence of one who rarely failed
to make the most of those under his command.
The annual allowance made to Lady Nelson by her husband, after their
separation, was £1,800; which, by a statement he gave to the Prime
Minister, two years later, when asking an increase of pension, appears
to have been about half of his total income. On the 23d of April,
1801, when daily expecting to leave the Baltic for England, he sent
her a message through their mutual friend Davison: "You will, at a
proper time, and before my arrival in England, signify to Lady N. that
I expect, and for which I have made such a very liberal allowance to
her, to be left to myself, and without any inquiries from her; for
sooner than live the unhappy life I did when last I came to England, I
would stay abroad for ever. My mind is fixed as fate: therefore you
will send my determination in any way you may judge proper."[42] To
Lady Hamilton he wrote about the same time, assuring her, under the
assumption of mystery with which he sought to guard their relations
against discovery through the postal uncertainties of the day, that he
had no communication with his wife: "Thomson[43] desires me to say he
has never wrote his aunt[44] since he sailed, and all the parade about
a house is nonsense. He has wrote to his father, but not a word or
message to her. He does not, nor cannot, care about her; he believes
she has a most unfeeling heart."[45]
His stay with the Hamiltons in Piccadilly, though broken by several
trips to the country, convinced Nelson that if they were to live
together, as he wished to do, it must be, for his own satisfaction, in
a house belonging to him. It is clear that the matter was talked over
between Lady Hamilton and himself; for, immediately upon joining his
command in the Downs, he began writing about the search for a house,
as a matter already decided, in which she was to act for him. "Have
you heard of any house? I am very anxious to have a home where my
friends might be made welcome." As usual, in undertakings of every
kind, he chafed under delays, and he was ready to take the first that
seemed suitable. "I really wish you would buy the house at Turnham
Green," he writes her within a week. The raising of the money, it is
true, presents some difficulty, for he has in hand but £3,000. "It is,
my dear friend," he moralizes, "extraordinary, but true, that the man
who is pushed forward to defend his country, has not from that country
a place to lay his head in; but never mind, happy, truly happy, in the
estimation of such friends as you, I care for nothing."
Lady Hamilton, however, was a better business-man than himself, and
went about his purchase with the deliberation of a woman shopping. At
the end of three weeks he was still regretting that he could not "find
a house and a little ece of ground, for if I go on much longer with
my present command, I must be ruined. I think your perseverance and
management will at last get me a home." By the 20th of August she was
suited, for on that date he writes to her, "I approve of the house at
Merton;" and, as the Admiralty would not consent to his leaving his
station even for a few days, all the details of the bargain were left
in her hands. "I entreat, my good friend, manage the affair of the
house for me." He stipulates only that everything in it shall be his,
"to a book or a cook," or even "to a pair of sheets, towels, &c." "I
entreat I may never hear about the expenses again. If you live in
Piccadilly or Merton it makes no difference, and if I was to live at
Merton I must keep a table, and nothing can cost me one-sixth part
which it does at present." "You are to be, recollect, Lady Paramount
of all the territories and waters of Merton, and we are all to be your
guests, and to obey, all lawful commands."
In this way were conducted the purchase and preparation of the only
home of his own on English ground that Nelson ever possessed, where he
passed his happiest hours, and from which he set out to fight his last
battle. The negotiation was concluded three days before the rumors of
the peace got abroad, therefore about the 27th of September, 1801; and
in consequence, so Sir William Hamilton thought, the property was
acquired a thousand pounds cheaper than it otherwise might have
been--a piece of financial good luck rare in Nelson's experience. "We
have now inhabited your Lordship's premises some days," continued the
old knight, "and I can now speak with some certainty. I have lived
with our dear Emma several years. I know her merit, have a great
opinion of the head and heart that God Almighty has been pleased to
give her; but a seaman alone could have given a fine woman full power
to chuse and fit up a residence for him without seeing it himself. You
are in luck, for in my conscience I verily believe that a place so
suitable to your views could not have been found, and at so cheap a
rate. The proximity to the capital,"--Nelson found it an hour's drive
from Hyde Park--"and the perfect retirement of this place, are, for
your Lordship, two points beyond estimation; but the house is so
comfortable, the furniture clean and good, and I never saw so many
conveniences united in so small a compass. You have nothing but to
come and enjoy immediately; you have a good mile of pleasant dry walk
around your own farm. It would make you laugh to see Emma and her
mother fitting up pig-sties and hencoops, and already the Canal is
enlivened with ducks, and the cock is strutting with his hens about
the walks."
As time passed, Sir William did not realize the comfort he had
anticipated from surroundings so pleasant as those he described. He
was troubled in money matters, fearing lest he might be distressed to
meet the current expenses of the house. "If we had given up the house
in Piccadilly," he lamented to Greville, "the living here would indeed
be a great saving; but, as it is, we spend neither more nor less than
we did." Why he did not give it up does not appear. As Lady Paramount
over the owner of the place, Lady Hamilton insisted upon entertaining
to a degree consonant to the taste neither of Lord Nelson, who was
only too pleased to humor her whims, nor of her husband, who had an
old man's longing for quiet, and, besides, was not pleased to find
himself relegated to a place in her consideration quite secondary to
that of his host. "It is but reasonable," he wrote to Greville, in
January, 1802, "after having fagged all my life, that my last days
should pass off comfortably and quietly. Nothing at present disturbs
me but my debt, and the nonsense I am obliged to submit to here to
avoid coming to an explosion, which would be attended with many
disagreeable effects, and would totally destroy the comfort of the
best man and the best friend I have in the world. However, I am
determined that my quiet shall not be disturbed, let the nonsensical
world go on as it will."
Neither the phlegm on which he prided himself, nor his resolutions,
were sufficient, however, to keep the peace, or to avoid undignified
contentions with his wife. Some months later he addressed her a
letter, which, although bearing no date, was evidently written after a
prolonged experience of the conditions entailed upon himself by this
odd partnership; for partnership it was, in form at least, the living
expenses being divided between the two.[46] In their quiet
reasonableness, his words are not without a certain dignified pathos,
and they have the additional interest of proving, as far as words can
prove, that, battered man of the world though he was, he had no
suspicion, within a year of his death, that the relations between his
host and his wife were guilty towards himself.
"I have passed the last 40 years of my life in the hurry & bustle that
must necessarily be attendant on a publick character. I am arrived at
the age when some repose is really necessary, & I promised myself a
quiet home, & altho' I was sensible, & said so when I married, that I
shou'd be superannuated when my wife wou'd be in her full beauty and
vigour of youth. That time is arrived, and we must make the best of it
for the comfort of both parties. Unfortunately our tastes as to the
manner of living are very different. I by no means wish to live in
solitary retreat, but to have seldom less than 12 or 14 at table, and
those varying continually, is coming back to what was become so
irksome to me in Italy during the latter years of my residence in that
country. I have no connections out of my own family. I have no
complaint to make, but I feel that the whole attention of my wife is
given to Ld. N. and his interest at Merton. I well know the purity of
Ld. N.'s friendship for Emma and me, and I know how very uncomfortable
it wou'd make his Lp, our best friend, if a separation shou'd take
place, & am therefore determined to do all in my power to prevent
such an extremity, which wou'd be _essentially detrimental_ to all
parties, but wou'd be more sensibly felt by our dear friend than by
us. Provided that our expences in housekeeping do not encrease beyond
measure (of which I must own I see some danger), I am willing to go on
upon our present footing; but as I cannot expect to live many years,
every moment to me is precious, & I hope I may be allow'd sometimes to
be my own master, & pass my time according to my own inclination,
either by going my fishing parties on the Thames or by going to London
to attend the Museum, R. Society, the Tuesday Club, & Auctions of
pictures. I mean to have a light chariot or post chaise by the month,
that I may make use of it in London and run backwards and forwards to
Merton or to Shepperton, &c. This is my plan, and we might go on very
well, but I am fully determined not to have more of the very silly
altercations that happen but too often between us and embitter the
present moments exceedingly. If realy one cannot live comfortably
together, a _wise_ and well _concerted separation_ is preferable; but
I think, considering the probability of my not troubling any party
long in this world, the best for us all wou'd be to bear those ills we
have rather than flie to those we know not of. I have fairly stated
what I have on my mind. There is no time for nonsense or trifling. I
know and admire your talents & many excellent qualities, but I am not
blind to your defects, and confess having many myself; therefore let
us bear and forbear for God's sake."[47]
There are other accounts by eye-witnesses of the home life at Merton,
in which participated, from time to time, not only the many outside
guests, of whose burden Hamilton complained, but also most of the
members of the Nelson family. Lord Minto, who had returned to England
from Vienna, and whose personal friendship to Nelson never slackened,
wrote to his wife, in March, 1802: "I went to Lord Nelson's on
Saturday to dinner, and returned to-day in the forenoon. The whole
establishment and way of life are such as to make me angry, as well as
melancholy; but I cannot alter it, and I do not think myself obliged,
or at liberty, to quarrel with him for his weakness, though nothing
shall ever induce me to give the smallest countenance to Lady
Hamilton. She looks ultimately to the chance of marriage, as Sir
William will not be long in her way, and she probably indulges a hope
that she may survive Lady Nelson; in the meanwhile she and Sir
William, and the whole set of them, are living with him at his
expense. She is in high looks, but more immense than ever. The love
she makes to Nelson is not only ridiculous, but disgusting: not only
the rooms, but the whole house, staircase and all, are covered with
nothing but pictures of her and him, of all sizes and sorts, and
representations of his naval actions, coats-of-arms, pieces of plate
in his honour, the flag-staff of L'Orient, &c.--an excess of vanity
which counteracts its own purpose. If it was Lady Hamilton's house
there might be a pretence for it; to make his own house a mere
looking-glass to view himself all day is bad taste. Braham, the
celebrated Jew singer, performed with Lady Hamilton. She is horrid,
but he entertained me in spite of her." Of this same period, but a
year later, at the time of Hamilton's death, Minto wrote: "Lady
Hamilton talked very freely [to me] of her situation with Nelson, and
the construction the world may have put upon it, but protested that
their attachment had been perfectly pure, which I declare I can
believe, though I am sure it is of no consequence whether it be so or
not. The shocking injury done to Lady Nelson is not made less or
greater, by anything that may or may not have occurred between him and
Lady Hamilton."
On the 6th of November, 1861, Mr. Matcham, a nephew of Lord Nelson,
wrote for the "Times" some reminiscences of the great admiral, as he
had known him in private life, both at this period, and three years
later, just before Trafalgar. His letter was elicited by the
publication of the "Remains of Mrs. Trench." In this had appeared
extracts from her journal, when Mrs. St. George, containing statements
derogatory to Nelson's conduct in Dresden, when on the journey from
Trieste to Hamburg in the year 1800; some of which have been quoted
already in this work.[48] Mr. Matcham's words, so far as they relate
to Nelson himself, are here given in full[49]:--
I too Sir, as well as "the Lady," had some knowledge of that
person, so much honoured and so much maligned; and although I do
not defend his one great error (though in that, with some
palliation, there were united elements of a generous and noble
nature), I venture to say that whoever forms a notion of his
manners and deportment in private life from this account of him,
will labour under a very great delusion.
I visited my uncle twice during the short periods in which he
was on shore--once in 1802, during his journey to Wales, when he
was received at Oxford and other places; and the second time at
his house at Merton, in 1805, for three weeks preceding the 15th
of September, when he left to embark at Portsmouth to return no
more; and I can assert with truth that a more complete contrast
between this lady's portrait and my thorough recollection of him
could not be forced on my mind. Lord Nelson in private life was
remarkable for a demeanour quiet, sedate, and unobtrusive,
anxious to give pleasure to every one about him, distinguishing
each in turn by some act of kindness, and chiefly those who
seemed to require it most.
During his few intervals of leisure, in a little knot of
relations and friends, he delighted in quiet conversation,
through which occasionally ran an undercurrent of pleasantry,
not unmixed with caustic wit. At his table he was the least
heard among the company, and so far from being the hero of his
own tale, I never heard him voluntarily refer to any of the
great actions of his life.
I have known him lauded by the great and wise; but he seemed to
me to waive the homage with as little attention as was
consistent with civility. Nevertheless, a mind like his was
necessarily won by attention from those who could best estimate
his value.
On his return from his last interview with Mr. Pitt, being asked
in what manner he had been received, he replied that he had
reason to be gratified with his reception, and concluded with
animation, "Mr. Pitt, when I rose to go, left the room with me,
and attended me to the carriage"--a spontaneous mark of respect
and admiration from the great statesman, of which, indeed, he
might well be proud.
It would have formed an amusement to the circle at Merton, if
intemperance were set down to the master of the house, who
always so prematurely cut short the _sederunt_ of the gentlemen
after dinner.
A man of more temperate habits could not, I am persuaded, have
been found. It appears that the person of Lord Nelson (although
he was not as described, a little man, but of the middle height
and of a frame adapted to activity and exertion) did not find
favour with the lady; and I presume not to dispute her taste,
but in his plain suit of black, in which he alone recurs to my
memory, he always looked what he was--a gentleman. Whatever
expletives of an objectionable kind may be ascribed to him, I
feel persuaded that such rarely entered into his conversation.
He was, it is true, a sailor, and one of a warm and generous
disposition; yet I can safely affirm that I never heard a coarse
expression issue from his lips, nor do I recollect one word or
action of his to which even a disciple of Chesterfield could
reasonably object. If such did arise, it would be drawn forth
when a friend was attacked, or even an enemy unjustly accused;
for his disposition was so truly noble, that it revolted against
all wrong and oppression. His heart, indeed, was as tender as it
was courageous. Nor do I think, Sir, that it is a necessary
concession to truth that you or others should lower your
conception of this popular personage, on account of the
exaggerated colours in which he is here drawn. Those who best
knew the man the most estimated his value, and many who like
myself could not appreciate his professional superiority, would
yet bear witness to his gentleness, kindness, good-breeding, and
courtesy.
He was not "a rude and boisterous captain of the sea." From his
early years, by the introduction of his uncle, the Comptroller
of the Navy, he was associated with the _élite_ of his own
profession; and the influences of his own paternal home, and his
acquaintance with the first families of his native county, to
many of whom he was related, would not allow a man of his
intelligence and proper pride to foster coarseness beyond the
habits of his age.
It appears to me that, however flattering or consolatory the
recital of the follies or foibles of great men may be to that
mediocrity which forms the mass of mankind, the person who
undertakes to cater for mere amusement withdraws something from
the common stock of his country. The glory of Great Britain
depends as much on the heroes she has produced, as on her
wealth, her influence, and her possessions; and the true patriot
and honourable man, if he cannot add to their lustre, will at
least refrain from any premeditated act which may dim their
fame, and diminish that high estimation of them which
expedience, nationality, and gratitude should alike contribute
to sustain.
A NEPHEW OF ADMIRAL LORD NELSON.
A glimpse of the family life at Merton, and of the society which
gathered there, has been casually preserved for us. It presents not
only an interesting group of the admiral's associates, but also the
record of a conversation concerning him, under his own roof,
transmitted by one of the parties to it; particularly instructive,
because showing the contradictory traits which illustrated his
character, and the impression made by him upon his contemporaries and
intimates,--men who had seen him upon all kinds of occasions, both
great and small. It corroborates, too, the report of these superficial
inconsistencies made by the Duke of Wellington on a later occasion.
The narrator, Lieutenant Layman, was the same who had recently been
with Nelson in the Baltic, and who has before been quoted in
connection with that expedition. Sir Alexander Ball will be remembered
as one of his chief supports during the long chase that preceded the
Battle of the Nile, as well as in the action, and afterwards during
the protracted operations around Malta. Hood was also a Nile captain.
"During the temporary peace, Mr. Layman spent some days at Merton,
with Sir Alexander Ball and Sir Samuel Hood. One day, after tea in the
drawing-room, Lord Nelson was earnestly engaged in conversation with
Sir Samuel. Mr. Layman observed to Sir Alexander, that Lord Nelson was
at work by his countenance and mouth, that he was a most extraordinary
man, possessing opposite points of character; little in little things,
but by far the greatest man in great things he ever saw: that he had
seen him petulant in trifles, and as cool and collected as a
philosopher when surrounded by dangers, in which men of common minds,
with clouded countenance, would say, 'Ah! what is to be done?' It was
a treat to see his animated and collected countenance in the heat of
action. Sir Alexander remarked this seeming inconsistency, and
mentioned that, after the Battle of the Nile, the captains of the
squadron were desirous to have a good likeness of their heroic chief
taken, and for that purpose employed one of the most eminent painters
in Italy. The plan was to ask the painter to breakfast, and get him to
begin immediately after. Breakfast being over, and no preparation
being made by the painter, Sir Alexander was selected by the other
captains to ask him when he intended to begin; to which the answer
was, 'Never.' Sir Alexander said, he stared, and they all stared, but
the artist continued: 'There is such a mixture of humility with
ambition in Lord Nelson's countenance, that I dare not risk the
attempt.'"[50]
There is yet another casual mention of the Merton home life,
illustrative of more than one feature of Nelson's native character.
Many years later the daughter of the Vicar of the parish, when
transmitting a letter to Sir Harris Nicolas, added: "In revered
affection for the memory of that dear man, I cannot refrain from
informing you of his unlimited charity and goodness during his
residence at Merton. His frequently expressed desire was, that none in
that place should want or suffer affliction that he could alleviate;
and this I know he did with a most liberal hand, always desiring that
it should not be known from whence it came. His residence at Merton
was a continued course of charity and goodness, setting such an
example of propriety and regularity that there are few who would not
be benefited by following it." His thoughtfulness and generosity to
those about him was equally shown in his charges to his agents at
Bronté, for the welfare of the Sicilian peasantry upon his estate. In
the regularity and propriety of observance which impressed the
clergyman's daughter, he carried out the ideal he had proposed to Lady
Hamilton. "Have we a nice church at Merton? We will set an example of
goodness to the under parishioners."
Whatever of censure or of allowance may be pronounced upon the life he
was living, there was in the intention just quoted no effort to
conciliate the opinion of society, which he was resolute in braving;
nor was it inconsistent with the general tenor of his thoughts. In the
sense of profound recognition of the dependence of events upon God,
and of the obligation to manifest gratitude in outward act, Nelson was
from first to last a strongly religious man. To his sin he had
contrived to reconcile his conscience by fallacies, analogies to which
will be supplied by the inward experience of many, if they will be
honest with themselves. The outcome upon character of such dealings
with one's self is, in the individual case, a matter to which man's
judgment is not competent. During the last two years and a half of
Nelson's life, the chaplain of the "Victory" was associated with him
in close intimacy as confidential secretary, with whom he talked
freely on many matters. "He was," said this gentleman, "a thorough
clergyman's son--I should think he never went to bed or got up without
kneeling down to say his prayers." He often expressed his attachment
to the church in which he had been brought up, and showed the
sincerity of his words by the regularity and respect with which he
always had divine service performed on board the "Victory," whenever
the weather permitted. After the service he had generally a few words
with the chaplain on the subject of the sermon, either thanking him
for its being a good one, or remarking that it was not so well adapted
as usual to the crew. More than once, on such occasions, he took down
a volume of sermons in his own cabin, with the page already marked at
some discourse which he thought well suited to such a congregation,
and requested Dr. Scott to preach it on the following Sunday.[51]
On the 29th of October, 1801, just one week after he left the Downs,
Nelson took his seat in the House of Lords as a Viscount, his former
commander-in-chief, Hood, who was of the same rank in the peerage,
being one of those to present him. While in England he spoke from time
to time on professional subjects, or those connected with the external
policy of the country, on which he held clear and decided opinions,
based, naturally, upon naval exigencies. His first speech was a warm
and generous eulogy of Sir James Saumarez, once second to himself at
the Battle of the Nile, an officer with whom it is not too much to say
he was not in close personal sympathy, as he had been with Troubridge,
but who had just fought two desperate squadron actions under
conditions of singular difficulty, out of which he had wrenched a
success that was both signal and, in the then state of the war and
negotiations, most opportune. "Sir James Saumarez's action," said
Lord St. Vincent, "has put us upon velvet."
Nelson's own thirst for glory made him keenly appreciative of the
necessity to be just and liberal, in distributing to those who had
achieved great deeds the outward tokens of distinguished service,
which often are the sole recompense for dangers run and hardships
borne. Scarcely had he retired from his active command in the Channel
when he felt impelled to enter upon a painful and humiliating
controversy, on behalf of those who had shared with him all the perils
of the desperate Battle of Copenhagen; for which, unlike himself, they
had received no reward, but from whom he refused to be dissociated in
the national esteem and gratitude.
On the 19th of November, 1801, the City of London voted its thanks to
the divisions of the Army and the Navy, whose joint operations during
the previous summer had brought to an end the French occupation of
Egypt, begun by Bonaparte in 1798. Nelson had for some time been
uneasy that no such notice had been taken of the Battle of Copenhagen,
for the custom of the Corporation of the chief city of the Empire,
thus to honor the great achievements of their armed forces, was, he
asserted, invariable in his experience; consequently, the omission in
the case of Copenhagen was a deliberate slight, the implication of
which, he thought, could not be disregarded. Delay, up to the time
then present, might be attributed to other causes, not necessarily
offensive, although, from a letter to his friend Davison, he seems to
have feared neglect; but the vote of thanks to the two Services for
their successes in Egypt left no room to doubt, that the failure to
take similar action in the case of Copenhagen was intentional.
This Nelson regarded, and justly, as an imputation upon the
transactions there. Where a practice is invariable, omission is as
significant as commission can be. Either the victory was doubtful, or
of small consequence, or, for some other reason, not creditable to
the victors. He wrote at once to the Lord Mayor. After recalling the
facts, he said: "If I were only personally concerned, I should bear
the stigma, now first attempted to be placed upon my brow, with
humility. But, my Lord, I am the natural guardian of the characters of
the Officers of the Navy, Army, and Marines, who fought, and so
profusely bled, under my command on that day.... When I am called upon
to speak of the merits of the Captains of his Majesty's ships, and of
the officers and men, whether seamen, marines, or soldiers, I that day
had the happiness to command, _I say_, that never was the glory of
this country upheld with more determined bravery than upon that
occasion, and more important service was never rendered to our King
and Country. It is my duty to prove to the brave fellows, my
companions in dangers, that _I_ have not failed, at every proper
place, to represent, as well as I am able, their bravery and
meritorious services."
This matter was the occasion, possibly the cause, of bringing him into
collision with the Admiralty and the Government on the same subject.
Although his private representations, soon after his return to
England, had obtained from Lord St. Vincent, as he thought, a promise
that medals should be issued for the battle, no steps thereto had been
taken. He now enclosed to the Prime Minister and to the First Lord a
copy of his letter to the Lord Mayor; and to both he alluded to the
assurance he believed had been made him. "I have," he said, "been
expecting the medals daily since the King's return from Weymouth." St.
Vincent's reply was prompt as himself. With reference to the former
matter, he confined himself to drily thanking Nelson, without comment,
"for communicating the letter you have judged fit to write to the Lord
Mayor;" but as to the medals, he wrote a separate note, telling him
that he had "given no encouragement, but on the contrary had explained
to your Lordship, and to Mr. Addington, the impropriety of such a
measure being recommended to the King."
Nelson, to use his own word, was "thunder-struck" by this statement.
"I own," he said, "I considered the words your Lordship used as
conveying an assurance. It was an apology for their not being given
before, which, I understood you, they would have been, but for the
difficulty of fixing who was to have them;" an allusion particularly
valuable as indicating, in this case of flat contradiction between two
honorable men, what was the probable cause of withholding the marks of
hard-won distinction. "I have never failed assuring the Captains, that
I have seen and communicated with, that they might depend on receiving
them. I could not, my dear Lord, have had any interest in
misunderstanding you, and representing that as an intended Honour from
the King which you considered as so improper to be recommended to the
King: therefore I must beg that your Lordship will reconsider our
conversation--to me of the very highest concern, and think that I
could not but believe that we would have medals. I am truly made ill
by your letter." St. Vincent replied briefly, "That you have perfectly
mistaken all that passed between us in the conversation you allude to,
is most certain. At the same time I am extremely concerned that it
should have had so material an effect upon your health," etc. "Either
Lord St. Vincent or myself are liars," wrote Nelson to Davison; a
conclusion not inevitable to those who have had experience of human
misunderstandings.
The Prime Minister took a week to reply. When he did, he deprecated
the sending of any letter to the Mayor, for reasons, he said, "not
merely of a public nature, but connected with the interest I shall
ever take in your well-earned fame." These reasons, he added, he would
be ready to give him in a private interview. Nelson had asked his
opinion upon the terms of the letter; but, impatient after waiting
three days, had already sent it in when this answer came. It seems
probable that, with his usual promptness, he called at once; for on
the same day, November 28, that he received Addington's letter he
withdrew that to the Mayor.[52] "By the advice of a friend," he said,
"I have now to request that your Lordship will consider my letter as
withdrawn, _as the discussion of the question may bring forward
characters which had better rest quiet_."[53] There seems, therefore,
little reason to doubt that the honors, due to those who fought, were
withheld out of consideration to those who did not fight. Nelson
himself recognized the difficulty. "They are not Sir Hyde Parker's
real friends who wish for an inquiry," he had written confidentially
to Davison before leaving the Baltic. "His friends in the fleet wish
everything of this fleet to be forgot, for we all respect and love Sir
Hyde; but the dearer his friends, the more uneasy they have been at
his _idleness_, for that is the truth--no criminality." But, as he
vigorously and characteristically said of another matter occurring
about this time, "I was told the difficulties were insurmountable. My
answer was, 'As the thing is necessary to be done, the more
difficulties, the more necessary to try to remove them.'"
As regards the soundness of Nelson's grounds, and the propriety of his
action in this matter, it must, first, be kept in mind, that, before
the City voted its thanks to the Navy engaged in Egypt, he had spoken
in the House of Lords in favor of the thanks of the Government to the
same force, although, as a whole, it had there played a subordinate
part; and also, that, although deprived of the medal which he hoped to
get in common with others, he had himself been rewarded for Copenhagen
by promotion in the peerage.[54] This separation between himself and
the mass of those who fought under him, necessarily intensified the
feeling of one always profusely generous, in praise as in money; but
his point otherwise was well taken. The task was ungracious and
unpleasant, it may almost be called dirty work to have thus to solicit
honors and distinction for deeds in which one has borne the principal
part; but dirty work must at times be done, with hands or words, and
the humiliation then rests, not with him who does it, but with them
who make it necessary. Had the victors at Copenhagen fought a
desperate fight, and were they neglected? If so, and the outside world
looked indifferently on, who from among them should first come forth
to defend their glory from implication of some undefined stain, if not
their Commander-in-Chief, one whose great renown could well spare the
additional ray of lustre which he demanded for them. Whether
underneath lay some spot of self-seeking, of the secondary motive from
which so few of us are free, matters little or nothing. The thing was
right to be done, and he did it. If the Government and the City of
London, by calculated omission, proclaimed, as they did, that these
men had not deserved well of their country, it became him to say, as
he did, openly to the City, subordinately to his superiors, that they
had done men's work and deserved men's reward.
"If Lord Nelson could forget the services of those who have fought
under his command, he would ill deserve to be so supported as he
always has been." Thus he closed his last letter to the Lord Mayor on
this subject, a year after the correspondence began. It was this noble
sympathy with all beneath him, the lack of which has been charged
against the great Commander of the British Army of this period, that
won for Nelson the enthusiastic affection which, in all parts of his
command, however remote from his own eyes, aroused the ardent desire
to please him. No good service done him escaped his hearty
acknowledgment, and he was unwearied in upholding the just claims of
others to consideration. In the matter of Copenhagen, up to the time
he left the country, eighteen months later, he refused any
compromise. He recognized, of course, that he was powerless in the
face of St. Vincent's opposition; but, he wrote to one of the captains
engaged, "I am fixed never to abandon the fair fame of my companions
in dangers. I have had a meeting with Mr. Addington on the subject; I
don't expect we shall get much by it, except having had a full
opportunity of speaking my mind." The Premier's arguments had been to
him wholly inconclusive. Oddly enough, as things were, the Sultan sent
him a decoration for Copenhagen. Coming from a foreign sovereign,
there was, in accepting it, no inconsistency with his general
attitude; but in referring the question to the Government, as was
necessary, he told the Prime Minister, "If I can judge the feelings of
others by myself, there can be no honours bestowed upon me by
foreigners that do not reflect ten times on our Sovereign and
Country."[55]
In conformity with this general stand, when it was proposed in June,
1802, to give him the thanks of the City, for taking command of the
force destined to defend it against invasion, he wrote to request that
the motion might be withdrawn, on the express ground that no thanks
had been given those engaged at Copenhagen. "I should feel much
mortified, when I reflected on the noble support I that day received,
at any honour which could separate me from them." He alleged the same
reason, in the following September, for refusing to dine with the
Corporation. "Never, till the City of London think justly of the
merits of my brave companions of the 2d of April, can I, their
commander, receive any attention from the City of London." A like
refusal was sent to his invitation for Lord Mayor's day.
After the interview with Mr. Addington, the question of medals was
dropped. He had explained his position fully, and felt that it was
hopeless to attempt more, so long as the Admiralty was against him;
but when the Administration changed, in May, 1804, he wrote to Lord
Melville, the new First-Lord, enclosing a statement of facts,
including his correspondence with St. Vincent, and requesting a
reconsideration of the matter. "The medal," he said, is withheld, "for
what reason Lord St. Vincent best knows. I hope," he concluded, "for
your recommendation to his Majesty, that he may be pleased to bestow
that mark of honour on the Battle of Copenhagen, which his goodness
has given to the Battle of St. Vincent, the First of June, of
Camperdown, and the Nile." Melville, in a very sympathetic and
courteous letter, declined, for a reason whose weight must be
admitted: "When badges of triumph are bestowed in the heat and
conflict of war, they do not rankle in the minds even of the enemy, at
whose expense they are bestowed; but the feeling, I suspect, would be
very different in Denmark, if the present moment was to be chosen for
opening afresh wounds which are, I trust, now healed, or in the daily
progress of being so." So it resulted that for some reason, only dimly
outlined, no mark of public recognition ever was conferred upon the
most difficult, the most hazardous, and, at the moment, perhaps the
most critically important of Nelson's victories; that which he himself
considered the greatest of his achievements.
This unfortunate and embittering controversy was the most marked and
characteristic incident of his residence at Merton, between October,
1801, when he first went there, and May, 1803, when he departed for
the Mediterranean, upon the renewal of war with France. Living always
with the Hamiltons, the most copious stream of private correspondence
was cut off; and being unemployed after April, 1802, his official
letters are confined to subjects connected rather with the past than
with the then present time. Upon general naval questions he had,
however, something to say. A trip to Wales suggests a memorandum to
the Prime Minister concerning the cultivation and preservation of oak
timber in the Forest of Dean. He submits to him also his views as to
the disposition of Malta, in case the provision of the Treaty of
Amiens, which re-established there the Order of the Knights under the
guarantee of the six great Powers, should fail, owing to the refusal
of Russia to join in the proposed guarantee. At the time he
wrote,--December, 1802,--the question was become burning, threatening
the rupture of the existing peace between France and Great Britain; a
result which, in fact, soon followed, and turned mainly upon this
point. The essential aim in the provision, he observed, was that
neither of the two countries should have the island. If the Order
could not be restored, then it ought to go to Naples, again under the
guarantee of the Powers. It was useless to England, for operations
against France; and in the hands of the latter was a direct menace to
Sicily. This arrangement would accord with the spirit of the treaty;
but if it also was impracticable, Great Britain had no choice but to
keep Malta herself. It would cost £300,000 annually, but anything was
better than to chance its falling again into the hands of France.
In like manner he submitted to the Admiralty plans for the more
certain manning of the Navy, and for the prevention of desertion. The
material conditions of seamen while in the service, the pay and
provisions, were, he considered, all that could be desired; but still
there was great indisposition to enlist, and the desertions in the
last war, 1793-1801, rose to the enormous figure of forty-two
thousand. The remedy he outlined was a Registration of seamen, and of
certificates to be given them, bearing a personal description by
which they could be identified, and on which their character and
services would appear. For lack of such papers, seamen by hundreds
were in London in distress, although large amounts of money were due
them at prize agencies, where the agent feared to pay for want of
identification. A certificate showing five years' faithful service
should entitle the holder to an annual bounty of two guineas, to be
increased by further periods. Such provisions were well calculated to
appeal to men accustomed to entertain prudential considerations, and
to create gradually a class with whom they would weigh, and who would
by them be retained in permanent employment. In meeting the case of
desertions, caused by the heedlessness and weakness of seamen, Nelson
became more vague. The nature of the trouble he recognized clearly
enough, but there is a lack of definiteness in the remedy he proposed
to meet an evil which still exists. "The mainspring of all my plan is,
that of Certificates fully descriptive of the persons; the very
greatest good must result from it. Something should be attempted at
these times to make our seamen, at the din of war, fly to our Navy,
instead of flying from it." His plan is substantially that now
adopted.
Closely connected with the discontent of seamen was the subject of
prize-money, in the receipt and distribution of which great
irregularities and abuses existed among the agents, to remove which
also he made particular and detailed suggestions; and he strongly
supported, though with discriminating criticism, the Bill for an
Inquiry into Naval Abuses, which embodied the most prominent of St.
Vincent's administrative measures while at the head of the Admiralty.
But, though thus supporting the Earl in his policy of investigation,
and retaining his respect for him as a sea-officer, he was utterly
dissatisfied with the general conduct of the Admiralty and with its
attitude towards himself in particular. "I attribute none of the
tyrannical conduct of the late Board to Lord St. Vincent," he wrote
two years later. "For the Earl I have a sincere regard, but he was
dreadfully ill-advised, and I fear the Service has suffered much from
their conduct." It would seem as if he did not, after the first
moments of annoyance, forget the irritation he felt against Troubridge
at being retained in the Downs against his will, and, as he thought,
without necessity. "I thank you," he wrote to Captain Murray, "for
taking the trouble of driving seven miles to make me a visit; for,
could you believe it, there are those who I thought were my firm
friends, some of near thirty years' standing--who have never taken
that trouble!" This may not refer to Troubridge, but the description
answers to him, and it appears that in the Nelson-Hamilton circle his
name now stood as a type of ingratitude.[56]
Writing to Davison in September, 1802, after a trip of six weeks made
to Wales, in company with the Hamiltons, he says: "Our tour has been
very fine and interesting, and the way in which I have been everywhere
received most flattering to my feelings; and although some of the
higher powers may wish to keep me down, yet the reward of the general
approbation and gratitude for my services is an ample reward for all I
have done; but it makes a _comparison_ fly up to my mind, not much to
the credit of some in the higher Offices of the State." He seems to
have felt that neither in his influence with the Admiralty, nor in
reference to his opinions on foreign topics, did he receive the
recognition that his distinguished services, abilities, and experience
claimed. "Having failed entirely in submitting my thoughts on three
points"--those just cited, manning, desertion, and prize-money--"I was
disheartened;" and to this he attributes his not sending in a memoir
which he had prepared upon the subject of the Flotilla for Coast
Defence.
But, while he resented this neglect, it did not greatly interfere with
his happiness, which was at this time well-nigh complete. He
complains of ill health, it is true, from time to time, and his means
were insufficient duly to keep up the two establishments--Lady
Nelson's and Merton--for which he was pecuniarily responsible. Under
this embarrassment he chafed, and with a sense of injustice which was
not unfounded; for, if reward be proportioned to merit and to the
importance of services rendered, Nelson had been most inadequately
repaid. For the single victories of St. Vincent and Camperdown, each
commander-in-chief had received a pension of £3,000. The Nile and
Copenhagen together had brought him no more than £2,000; indeed, as he
had already been granted £1,000 a year for St. Vincent, another
thousand may be said to have been all he got for two of the greatest
victories of the war. In submitting a request for an increase, he
asked pertinently, "Was it, or not, the intention of his Majesty's
Government to place my rewards for services lower than Lord St.
Vincent or Lord Duncan?" There was, of course, the damaging
circumstance that the conditions under which he chose to live made him
poorer than he needed to be; but with this the Government had no
concern. Its only care should have been that its recompense was
commensurate with his deserts, and it is revolting to see a man like
Nelson, naturally high-toned and always liberal, forced to the
undignified position of urging--and in vain--for the equal
remuneration that should have been granted spontaneously long before.
In his criticisms of the Admiralty's general course, it does not
appear whether Nelson, who was hereafter to be the greatest sufferer
from St. Vincent's excessive economies, realized as yet the particular
injury being done by them to the material of the Navy. In his passion
for reform, the veteran seaman obstinately shut his eyes to the
threatening condition of the political atmosphere, and refused to
recognize the imminent danger of a renewal of the war, because it
necessarily would postpone his projected innovations. Assuming the
continuance of peace with all the violence of a prejudice, he
permitted the strength and resources of the Navy to deteriorate
rapidly, both by direct action and by omission to act. "Lord St.
Vincent," wrote Minto in November, 1802, "is more violent than anybody
against the war, and has declared that he will resign if ministers
dare go to war. His principal reason is, I believe, that the ships are
so much out of repair as to be unfit for service." "Lord Nelson," he
says at the same period, "has been with me a long time to-day. He
seems much of my mind on material points, but especially on the
necessity of being better prepared than we now are." The admiral's own
letters at this time make little allusion to the measures, or the
neglects, which were rapidly undermining the efficiency of the fleet;
but a year after leaving England he wrote, "With all my personal
regard for Lord St. Vincent, I am sorry to see that he has been led
astray by the opinion of ignorant people. There is scarcely a thing he
has done since he has been at the Admiralty that I have not heard him
reprobate before he came to the Board."
Much as he enjoyed his home and desired peace, Nelson had never felt
assured of its continuance. Like Great Britain herself during this
repose, he rested with his arms at his side, ready for a call. The
Prime Minister, Addington, has transmitted a curious story of the
manner in which he exemplified his ideas of the proper mode of
negotiating with Bonaparte. "It matters not at all," he said, taking
up a poker, "in what way I lay this poker on the floor. But if
Bonaparte should say it _must_ be placed in this direction," suiting
the action to the word, "we must instantly insist upon its being laid
in some other one." At the same time Bonaparte, across the Channel,
was illustrating in almost identical phrase the indomitable energy
that was common to these two men, the exponents of the two opposing
and irreconcilable tendencies of their age. "If the British ministry
should intimate that there was anything the First Consul had not done,
because he was prevented from doing it, that instant he would do it."
"You have proved yourself too true a prophet," wrote an occasional
correspondent to Nelson, "for you have said ever since the peace that
it could not be of long duration." Jar after jar, as Bonaparte drove
his triumphal chariot over the prostrate continent, announced the
instability of existing conditions; and the speech from the throne on
the 16th of November, 1802, was distinctly ominous, if vague. Nelson
then seconded the address in the House of Peers, in words so
characteristic of his own temper, and of that then prevailing in the
nation, that they serve to explain the strong accord between him and
it, and to show why he was so readily and affectionately distinguished
as its representative hero. They are thus reported:--
"I, my Lords, have in different countries, seen much of the
miseries of war. I am, therefore, in my inmost soul, a man of
peace. Yet I would not, for the sake of any peace, however
fortunate, consent to sacrifice one jot of England's honour. Our
honour is inseparably combined with our genuine interest.
Hitherto there has been nothing greater known on the Continent
than the faith, the untainted honour, the generous public
sympathies, the high diplomatic influence, the commerce, the
grandeur, the resistless power, the unconquerable valour of the
British nation. Wherever I have served in foreign countries, I
have witnessed these to be sentiments with which Britons were
regarded. The advantages of such a reputation are not to be
lightly brought into hazard. I, for one, rejoice that his
Majesty has signified his intention to pay due regard to the
connection between the interests of this country and the
preservation of the liberties of Europe. It is satisfactory to
know, that the preparations to maintain our dignity in peace,
are not to be neglected. Those supplies which his Majesty shall
for such purposes demand, his people will most earnestly grant.
The nation is satisfied that the Government seeks in peace or
war no interest separate from that of the people at large; and
as the nation was pleased with that sincere spirit of peace
with which the late treaty was negotiated, so, now that a
restless and unjust ambition in those with whom we desired
sincere amity has given a new alarm, the country will rather
prompt the Government to assert its honour, than need to be
roused to such measures of vigorous defence as the exigency of
the times may require."
During the winter, Bonaparte, resentful of Great Britain's claim to a
voice in the politics of the Continent, became more and more
distinctly menacing in deed and word. On the 20th of February, 1803,
in a message to the legislature, he made the imprudent, because
useless, vaunt, "This government says with just pride, England, alone,
cannot to-day contend against France." Two days later Minto, who was
in opposition, was told by Nelson, "in strict confidence," that for
some time back there had been great doubts between peace and war in
the ministry. "One measure in contemplation has been to send him to
the Mediterranean, by way of watching the armament and being ready if
wanted. He says that he is thought the fitter for that delicate
service, as on the one hand he wishes the continuance of peace, and
therefore is not likely to precipitate matters, and on the other hand
Bonaparte knows that if he hoists his flag it will not be in joke." It
had for some time been arranged that, if war came, he was to have the
Mediterranean command.
On the 8th of March, 1803, the King sent a message to Parliament,
that, in consequence of military preparations going on in the ports of
France and Holland, he judged expedient to adopt additional measures
of precaution for the security of his dominions. While this was under
discussion in the Upper House, Nelson, impressed with the idea that
war must come, left his seat, and wrote to the Prime Minister the
following line: "Whenever it is necessary, I am _your_ Admiral." Yet
he felt the tug at his heartstrings as he never had before. "War or
Peace?" he writes to his old flag-captain, Berry. "Every person has a
different opinion. I fear perhaps the former, as I hope so much the
latter." Only with large reservations would he now have repeated the
rule Codrington tells us he inculcated,--"that every man became a
bachelor after passing the Rock of Gibraltar, and he was not very
tardy in showing that he practised what he preached. Honour, glory and
distinction were the whole object of his life, and that dear domestic
happiness never abstracted his attention." He did, indeed, rail at
marriage[57] during his last cruise, now fast approaching; but his
passionate devotion to Lady Hamilton, and his yearning for home, knew
no abatement. Yet, through all and over all, the love of glory and the
sense of honor continued to the last to reign supreme. "Government
cannot be more anxious for my departure," he tells St. Vincent, "than
I am, if a war, to go."
Meantime the necessary preparations were quietly progressing, while
the diplomatic discussions with France became more and more bitter and
hopeless, turning mainly on the question of Malta, though the root of
the trouble lay far deeper. The "Victory," of a hundred guns, was
named for Nelson's flag, her officers appointed, and the ship
commissioned. On the 6th of May he received orders to prepare for
departure. On the 12th the British ambassador left Paris, having
handed in the Government's ultimatum and demanded his passports. On
the 16th Great Britain declared war against France, and the same day
Nelson at the Admiralty received his commission as commander-in-chief
in the Mediterranean. Within forty-eight hours he joined the "Victory"
at Portsmouth, and on the 20th sailed for his station.
Thus ended the longest period of retirement enjoyed by Nelson, from
the opening of the war with France, in 1793, until his death in 1805.
During it, besides the separation from Lady Nelson, two great breaks
occurred in his personal ties and surroundings. His father died at
Bath on the 26th of April, 1802, at the age of seventy-nine. There had
been no breach in the love between the two, but it seems to the author
impossible to overlook, in the guarded letters of the old man to his
famous son, a tinge of regret and disapproval for the singular
circumstances under which he saw fit to live. That he gladly accepted
the opinion professed by many friends, naval and others, and carefully
fostered by the admiral, that his relations with Lady Hamilton were
perfectly innocent, is wholly probable; but, despite the usual silence
concerning his own views, observed by himself and Nelson, two clues to
his thought and action appear in his letters. One is the remark,
already quoted, that gratitude required him to spend some of his time
with Lady Nelson. The other, singular and suggestive, is the casual
mention to Nelson that he had received an anonymous letter, containing
"severe reproaches for my conduct to you, which is such, it seems, as
will totally separate us."[58] There is no record that he permitted
himself to use direct expostulation, and it seems equally clear that
he would not, by any implication, manifest approval or acquiescence.
It has been said, indeed, but only upon the authority of Lady
Hamilton, that it was his intention to take up his residence entirely
at Merton, with the admiral and the Hamiltons; an act which would have
given express countenance to the existing arrangements, and disavowed,
more strongly than any words, the bearing imputed to him by the
anonymous letter. In whose interest would such a letter most likely be
penned? Nelson mourned him sincerely, but was prevented by illness
from being present at the funeral. He is a man known to us only by his
letters, which are marked by none of the originality that
distinguishes the professional utterances of the admiral, and cannot
be said to rise much above the commonplace; but they show a strong
and unaffected piety, and particularly a cheerful, resolute,
acceptance of the infirmities of protracted old age, which possesses
charm and inspires respect. There is also a clear indication of the
firmness that characterized Nelson himself, in the determination, amid
all the feebleness of age, and notwithstanding his pride and love for
his famous son, upon whom, too, he was partially dependent, that he
would not join in the general abandonment of the wife by the husband's
family. His attitude in this regard, as far as can be inferred from
his letters, commands sympathy and admiration.
A year later, on the 6th of April, 1803, Sir William Hamilton also
died, "in Lady Hamilton's and my arms," wrote Nelson, "without a sigh
or a struggle. The world never lost a more upright and accomplished
gentleman." Lady Hamilton, with ready tears, recorded: "Unhappy day
for the forlorn Emma. Ten minutes past ten dear blessed Sir William
left me." The grouping of figures and emotions at that death-bed was
odd almost beyond comprehension; one of the most singular studies
which human nature has presented to itself of its powers of
self-cajolement. A man systematically deceived, yet apparently
sincerely regarded, and affectionately tended to the last by his
betrayers, one of whom at least prided himself, and for the most part
not unjustly, upon his fidelity to his friends. Hamilton, alone among
the three, seems to have been single-minded--to have viewed their
mutual relations to the end, not with cynical indifference, but with a
simplicity of confidence hard to be understood in a man of his
antecedents. It may have been, however, that he recognized the
inevitable in the disparity of years and in his wife's early training,
and that he chose to cover her failings with a self-abnegation that
was not without nobility. Upon such a tacit affirmation he set a final
seal in a codicil to his will, well calculated to silence those who
saw scandal in the association between his wife and his friend. "The
copy of Madam Le Brunn's picture of Emma, in enamel, by Bone, I give
to my dearest friend Lord Nelson, Duke of Bronté, a very small token
of the great regard I have for his Lordship, the most virtuous, loyal,
and truly brave character I ever met with. God bless him, and shame
fall on those who do not say amen."
Sir William's death, by withdrawing the husband's countenance to
Nelson's remaining under the same roof, might have complicated matters
for the two lovers, but the outbreak of war necessitated the admiral's
departure a month later. When he returned to England for the last
time, in August, 1805, he was, deservedly, the object of such
widespread popular devotion, and his stay was so short, that the voice
of censure was hushed amid the general murmur of affectionate
admiration. The noble qualities of the man, the exalted spirit of
self-sacrifice and heroic aspiration that breathed in his utterances,
and was embodied, not only in his brilliant deeds, but in the obscure,
patient endurance of the last two years, evoked a sentiment which
spread over him and her a haze of tender sympathy that still survives.
In the glory of Trafalgar, in his last touching commendation of her
and his child to the British Government, in the general grief of the
nation, there was justly no room to remember their fault; both
acquaintance and strangers saw in her only the woman whom he loved to
the end. The sisters of Nelson, women of mature years and
irreproachable character, maintained a correspondence with Lady
Hamilton during their lives; long after his death, and the departure
of his influence, removed any interested motive for courting her
friendship. Between them and Lady Nelson, on the other hand, the
breach was final. Their occasional mention of her is unfriendly, and
upon the whole contemptuous; while she, as far as can be judged from
their letters, returned to them an equal measure of disdain.
FOOTNOTES:
[39] Josiah Nisbet, her son.
[40] Nelson's eldest brother. There appear to have been two copies of this
letter in Nelson's hand. One, of which the latter half only remains, is in
the British Museum. It bears the endorsement of Lady Nelson, as given. The
other copy, entire, is in the Alfred Morrison collection--Number 536.
Nelson probably sent a copy to Lady Hamilton to satisfy her exigencies that
the breach was final. The two correspond, word for word,--as far, that is,
as the former remains. Maurice Nelson died in April, 1801.
[41] Nelson several times spoke of Nisbet's early promise. The author is
indebted to Mrs. F.H.B. Eccles, Nisbet's granddaughter, for a copy of the
following letter from St. Vincent to his sister Mrs. Ricketts:--
LONDON, January 22, 1807.
My dear sister,--Upon reflexion it appears best to send you the only
letters I can find relative to Captain Nisbet, and to authorize you to
assert in my name that Lord Nelson assured me that he owed his life to the
resolution and admirable conduct of his stepson, when wounded at Teneriffe,
and that he had witnessed many instances of his courage and enterprise.
Yours most affectionately,
ST. VINCENT.
This letter explains how St. Vincent, feeling the value of Nelson's life to
the country, granted, in the still warm memories of Teneriffe, a promotion
which must have been sorely against his judgment.
[42] Nicolas, vol. vii. Addenda, p. ccix. In a letter to Lady Hamilton of
the same date, Nelson says: "Read the enclosed, and send it if you approve.
Who should I consult but my friends?" (Morrison, vol. ii. p. 142.) Whether
the enclosed was this letter to Davison cannot be said; but it is likely.
Compare foot-note, preceding page.
[43] Nelson.
[44] Lady Nelson.
[45] Morrison, vol. ii. p. 137.
[46] On the 21st of September, 1802, six months before Hamilton's death, he
was still £1,200 in Nelson's debt. (Morrison, vol. ii. p. 404.)
[47] Morrison, No. 684.
[48] _Ante_, p. 43.
[49] From Mr. G. Lathora Browne's "Nelson: His Public and Private Life,"
London, 1891, p. 412.
[50] Naval Chronicle, vol. xxxvii. p. 445.
[51] Life of Rev. A.J. Scott, D.D., p. 191.
[52] Nicolas, vol. iv. p. 533.
[53] Ibid., vol. vii. p. ccx. Author's italics.
[54] Ibid., vol. v. p. 60.
[55] It is possible that Nelson here used the word "reflect" in the primary
sense of reflecting honor; but in the secondary sense of being a reflection
upon those who had denied a just claim, the phrase, ambiguous as it stands,
represented accurately his feelings. "I own, my dear Sir," he said again to
the Premier, with reference to this decoration, "great as this honour will
be, it will have its alloy, if I cannot at the same time wear the medal for
the Battle of Copenhagen, the greatest and most honourable reward in the
power of our Sovereign to bestow, as it marks my personal services."
[56] See Pettigrew, vol. ii. p. 225; Morrison, vol. ii. p. 176.
[57] This habit is mentioned by Captain James Hillyar, for extracts from
whose journals the author is indebted to Admiral Sir W.R. Mends, G.C.B.
[58] Morrison Collection, No. 632, October 8, 1801.