The Prince of Wales had dined with and paid suspicious attentions to
Emma, and her fond lover, knowing this, advised her to warn him off.
He probably had an instinct that his "beloved Emma," who is "the
dearest object of his fond heart," was not quite strong enough to
resist temptation. Especially would she be likely to fall under the
fascinating influence of this little princely scamp. Nelson's mind
turned to his wife, and he emphasized the desire that he might never
see his aversion again. Nor did he.
Some of his contemporaries doubted the paternity of Horatia; Nelson
never did, and it would be hard to find a more beautiful outpouring of
love than that which he unfailingly gave to his little daughter. Every
thought of his soul was divided between her and the audacious flirt of
a mother whom Nelson, always lavish, calls "his love"; "his darling
angel"; "his heaven-given wife"; "the dearest, only true wife of his
own till death." The "till death" finish is quite sailorly!
No one will doubt his amazing faculty for love-making and
love-writing, and it must always be a puzzle how he managed to mix it
so successfully with war. His guilty love-making was an occasional
embarrassment to him, and though he was the greatest naval tactician
of his time, his domestic methods were hopelessly clumsy and
transparent. For instance, in pouring out his grievances to his
mistress he refers to himself by the name of Thompson, and to Lady
Nelson as Aunt. Here are a few examples:--"Thompson desires me to say
he has never wrote his Aunt since he sailed." "In twelve hours we
shall be across the water, and freed from all the nonsense of his
friends, or rather, pretended ones." "His" means Hamilton, and
"friends" means the Prince of Wales, whom he looked upon as a rival
for Emma's accommodating affections. Again, he says, "If I separated
from her, which I would do with pleasure the moment we can be united."
"Her" is Lady Nelson, but in discussing delicate matters of domestic
policy he thinks it desirable to conceal that he would not weep were
he to hear of Sir William's death, or be broken with grief to separate
entirely from Lady Nelson, so that he might become "united to his
heaven-given wife," "our darling angel, Emma."
V
The Admiralty did a great injustice to the victor of the Nile by
appointing Sir Hyde Parker commander-in-chief, instead of one who was
known to be the most brilliant officer in the Navy. It must have cut
deeply into Nelson's proud soul to have to serve under a man who had
not a particle of initiative; and, but for the splendid bravery and
matchless talents of his second, the wooden walls of old England would
have been sent to Davy Jones by the forts of Copenhagen and the Danish
fleet. Sir Hyde did not relish having Nelson with him at all. He
sulked, and treated him in a way that was observed and resented by
those who served under him. The commander-in-chief acted like a
jealous maiden, his intention being to freeze and humiliate the man
who was destined to win the victory and save the British fleet from
entire destruction. There always has been tremendous jealousy in the
Navy. But Sir Hyde Parker should have known that he was dealing with
an officer (who was the genius of the Navy) who would stand no
nonsense from any Lord High Admiral or other fussy dignitary whom he
could put in his pocket whenever he liked to exercise his personality.
Nelson never shirked responsibility when his country's interests were
being endangered by a dignified snob. Discipline, so far as he was
concerned until his object was gained, was pushed aside, and the great
spirit swept into the vortex of the danger and extinguished all
opposition. He said on one occasion, "I hate your pen-and-ink men. A
fleet of British warships are the best negotiators in Europe."
I have said that Parker was in the "sulks," so Nelson adopted a
humorous plan of thawing the ice by catching a turbot on the Dogger
Bank on the passage out to the Baltic. A sly seaman had told him that
this kind of fish was easily caught, so when they arrived on the Bank
the fishing commenced, and the turbot was caught. Nelson knew his
commander-in-chief was never averse to eating, so he gave orders to
have it sent to Sir Hyde, and although the sea was dangerous for a
small boat, the fish was in due course presented to Parker, who sent
back a cordial note of thanks. This ingenious stratagem eased the
strained relations between the two men, but there still remained a
feeling on the part of the commander-in-chief that the electric and
resourceful spirit of Nelson would, in any engagement, be the
dominating factor, with or without official sanction. He knew how
irresistibly Nelson's influence permeated the fleet, for no man knew
better than this much-envied Vice-Admiral how to enthuse his comrades
(high and low) in battle, and also what confidence the nation as a
whole had in what he called the "Nelson touch." Sir Hyde Parker,
knowing Nelson's superb qualities, should have paused and considered
the consequences before he slyly sought to put such a man in the
shade. There was not a man in the whole squadron who would not have
gone to his doom under Nelson's lead rather than live under any
other's. Nelson inspired men with the same love of glory which he
craved for himself. No real sailor ever did like to sail under a
hesitating, nervous commander. Parker, at the battle of Copenhagen,
gives one (from all accounts) the impression of unsureness, afraid to
take any risk lest it be the wrong one. Nelson was always sure, and
never hesitated to put into practice his considered views.
Parker, at a critical moment in the battle of Copenhagen, hoisted No.
39, which meant "Leave off action." Nelson shrugged his shoulders, and
Said, "No, I'm damned if I do," and kept his own "Engage the enemy
more closely" flying. He then added to Captain Foley, "I have only one
eye, and have a right to be blind sometimes." He then put the
telescope to his blind eye, and said, "I really do not see the
signal." Unfortunately, some of the ships retired, and one able
fellow, Captain Riou, who knew it was a wrong move, was so distressed
that he called out in despair to one of his officers beside him, "What
will Nelson think of us?" The poor captain was subsequently killed.
There can be no doubt now that the signal 39 was not permissive or
optional, nor that Nelson, having the enemy by the throat, refused to
let go until he had strangled him, nor that he did dramatically act
the blind-eye trick. He deliberately disobeyed orders, and saved
England's honour and fleet by doing so. It was one of his splendid
performances, and the story of it will live on into distant ages.
Who can calculate the loss of national prestige or the lives that
have been thrown away by putting severely decorous senior officers
over the heads of men who knew their business better and had the
courage and capacity to carry through big naval or military tasks? And
how tempting it must be to many a gallant fellow to take the business
into his own hands! Nelson knew well enough that he had laid himself
open to the full penalty of naval law, but he knew also that if any of
the moth-eaten crew at Whitehall even hinted it there would be "wigs
on the green." No man knew the pulse of the nation better, and no
commander played up to it less. One can imagine hearing him say to
some of his officers (perhaps Captain Hardy of Trafalgar fame), after
he had wrecked the Danish fleet and battered the forts into a
dilapidated condition, "Well, I have fought contrary to orders, and
they will perhaps hang me; never mind, let them." A significant "let
them" this, which means more than he cares to express. The Danes
frankly admitted that they had been beaten, and that even their
defence was destroyed, as the Crown batteries could not be held.
Instead of any talk of "hanging" him because of his "disobedience," he
was made a Viscount and his Rear-Admiral (Graves) a Knight of the
Bath. These were the only two significant honours conferred. When he
landed at Copenhagen, it is said that the people viewed him with a
mixture of admiration and hostility. He thought they were extremely
amiable. They cheered and shouted "God bless Lord Nelson!" There can
be no reason for their doing this, except gratitude to him for not
blowing the city down about their ears.
Whatever the cause, it is quite certain that the Crown Prince and some
of the Danish statesmen treated him with studied cordiality. Sir Hyde
Parker was a drag, and indeed, an intolerable nuisance to him. When
the armistice was sealed and settled for fourteen weeks, he wished to
get of to Reval and hammer the Russian squadron there, but the
commander-in-chief shirked all responsibility, and his victim was made
to say in a letter to Lord St. Vincent "that he would have been in
Reval fourteen days before, and that no one could tell what he had
suffered," and asks my dear Lord "if he has deserved well, to let him
retire, and if ill, for heaven's sake to supersede him, for he cannot
exist in this state." Lord Nelson conducted the British case with the
Danes with consummate statesmanship, but notwithstanding this, the
fine sensitive nature of the noble fellow could not fail to be hurt
when His Majesty (the same who lost us America) stated that, "under
_all_ the circumstances, he had thought well to approve." Nelson
replied that he was sorry the armistice was only approved under _all_
the circumstances, and then gives His Majesty a slap in the eye by
informing him that every part of the _all_ was to the advantage of the
King and Country. St. Vincent, the First Lord of the Admiralty,
subsequently made amends for His Majesty's error by writing to say
that his "whole conduct was approved and admired, and that he does
not care to draw comparisons, but that everybody agrees there is only
one Nelson." This strong and valiant sailor was never at any time
unconscious of his power. What troubled him was other people's lack of
appreciation of it, though he accepted with a whimsical humour the
grudging spirit in which credit was given to his unerring judgment and
unequalled bravery. Nor can we examine the great deeds of his career
without feeling a thrill of pride in the knowledge that he belonged to
us.
The spirit which animated Nelson was the same as that which lived in
those heroes of old who were used by Providence as instruments in
their country's destiny, and we may believe that this same spirit will
live in those God-sent men of the future who will be necessary for the
carrying out of some special task or for the destruction of evil.
Apparently, long intervals elapse between the appearance of men such
as Napoleon or Nelson. Napoleon's name still stirs the blood, and now,
more than a century after his death, any one of the Powers who had a
share in his tragic end would give worlds to get back some of his
force and genius. Nelson in a much less degree and in a different way
was another of those sent by Providence to take part in his country's
struggles and, like many another great man, was subjected to cruel
indignities at the hands of his inferiors. He often complained about
his treatment, but this never prevented him from doing his work. But
as his instructions were not always in accordance with his view of
success, he occasionally disobeyed them for the country's good. It
might be a gain to borrow _his_ spirit for a while at the present time
to electrify the British Admiralty. Nelson was more successful in his
conflicts with the enemy than with the chiefs of his calling afloat
and ashore. He was not really strong and audacious enough in his
dealings with them. "Jacky Fisher" (as he is fondly called) who lives
in our disturbed time, would have had similar sandbags jettisoned in
quick time. The modern Nelson has had his troubles with inferior
superiors too, but he flattened out some of them. The modern man is
all business, and does not show vanity if he has any. The "Only
Nelson" was strong, weak, and vain. If no one else gratuitously
sounded his praises, he would do so himself in the most comical way,
not altogether in public, but to "Santa Emma," whose function it was
to spread them abroad.
After the battle of Copenhagen, Sir Hyde Parker sailed for Carlscrona,
and left Nelson to hoist his flag as commander-in-chief on the _St.
George_, which was not ready, and was possibly being refitted after
rough handling. He tells Emma of Parker's departure, and adds, "if
there is any work to do," i.e. any fighting, "he is pretty certain
they will wait for him" before commencing it. And then he adds,
"_Nelson will be first_. Who can stop him?" On the eve of the battle
of Copenhagen he wrote to her, "Before you receive this, all will be
over with Denmark. Either your Nelson will be safe, and Sir Hyde
Parker victor, or your own Nelson will be laid low." What deep and
genuine love-lunacy to be found in a terrific warrior, whose very name
terrified those who had the honour to fight against him! The
incongruity of it baffles one's belief, and seems to reverse the very
order of human construction. In matters concerning his profession and
highly technical State affairs there was no more astute man, but as
soon as his thoughts centre on this female nightmare, he loses control
of his wonderful gifts, and his mind becomes deranged with the idea of
her being an object on which he should bestow reverence and infinite
adulation. If ever there was a creature of lamentable contradictions,
surely it was this genius, who immortalized our national glory at the
Nile, Copenhagen, and Trafalgar! That a man of his calibre, surrounded
with eternal fame, should be inflamed with a passion for a woman of
negative morals who was refused admittance to the same circle that,
but for this attachment would receive him as their triumphant hero, is
an example of human eccentricity that never has and never can be
accounted for. It may be taken for granted that at the very time he
was writing to her about "her own Nelson" she would be carrying on a
love intrigue with some old or new acquaintance, possibly the Prince
of Wales, whom as I have said, her gallant lover wished her to avoid.
He was known to be a cheat, a liar, and a faithless friend to men and
to women, while in accordance with the splendid ethic of this type of
person, he believed himself to be possessed of every saintly virtue.
But any one who is curious to have a fascinating description of the
"little dapper" should consult Thackeray.
Well, there was no fighting to be done when the fleet under Nelson
arrived at Reval, and the Emperor Paul's death and the dilatoriness of
Parker saved the Russian fleet from extermination. They had sailed
into safer anchorage and the British Admiral had to content himself by
paying an official visit to the authorities at Reval, and receiving
another ovation from the populace, which appealed to his whimsical
love of approbation. As is his custom, he sends Emma an account of his
Reval experiences. He says he would not mention so personal an
incident to any one else, as it would appear so uncommonly like
vanity, but between her and himself, hundreds had come to have a look
at Nelson, and he heard them say, "_That is him!_ That is _him_!" It
touches his vanity so keenly that he follows on by intimating that he
"feels a good name is better than riches, and that it has a fine
feeling to an honest heart." "All the Russians," says he, "are of
opinion that I am like Suwaroff, le Jeune Suwaroff." As may be
imagined, Nelson was bitterly disappointed at so sudden a collapse of
his hopes, but, always master of the situation, he wrote a most
courteous letter to Count Pahlen, the Russian Minister, who had
complained that his presence was calculated to make a breach of the
good feeling between the two countries. The Admiral's reply was
tactful and unconsciously humorous. The tone was that of a person who
had never been so unjustly hurt in his life. "He had come to pay his
respects to His Imperial Majesty, and as his motives had been so
entirely misunderstood, he would put to sea at once."