Pleasure in France and Work in the West Indies
(1783-1793)
_Admirals all, for England’s sake
Honour be theirs, and fame;
And honour, so long as waves shall break,
To Nelson’s peerless name._
HENRY NEWBOLT.
Nelson took the greatest possible interest in everything he saw in
France: “Sterne’s ‘Sentimental Journey’ is the best description I can
give of our tour.” He travelled in a chaise without springs, slept on
a straw bed--“O what a transition from happy England!”--but had less
fault to find with the scenery about Montreuil, which he describes as
“the finest corn country that my eyes ever beheld, diversified with
fine woods, sometimes for two miles together through noble forests. The
roads mostly were planted with trees, which made as fine an avenue as
to any gentleman’s country seat.” At St Omer he lodged with “a pleasant
French family,” and incidentally made the acquaintance of “two very
agreeable young ladies, daughters, who honour us with their company
pretty often.... Therefore I must learn French if ’tis only for the
pleasure of talking to them, for they do not speak a word of English.”
Soon all thoughts of study and of the “very agreeable” maidens were
banished from his impressionable mind by his introduction to a Miss
Andrews, the daughter of an English clergyman. The affair rapidly
ripened into something more than friendship.
_Her faults he knew not, Love is always blind,
But every charm resolved within his mind._
Nelson’s letters go far to prove the truth of Pope’s couplet. Miss
Andrews was, according to him, “the most accomplished woman my eyes
ever beheld.” Unfortunately marriage is necessarily based on that
mundane and concrete thing, money. When the ardent young officer came
to look into the financial aspect of the matter he found that his
income did not exceed £130 a year. His lady-love’s dowry was “1,000_l._
I understand.” He therefore appealed to his uncle, William Suckling,
to allow him £100 per annum until he could earn that sum for himself.
Failing this source of supply, would his relative “exert” himself “to
get me a guard-ship, or some employment in a public office where the
attendance of the principal is not necessary...? In the India Service I
understand (if it remains under the Directors) their marine force is to
be under the command of a captain in the Royal Navy: that is a station
I should like.” He prays that his uncle and his family “may never know
the pangs which at this instant tear my heart.”
Cupid’s shaft neither proved deadly nor barbed. On his return to
England Nelson dismissed his love affair, and was soon “running at
the ring of pleasure” in London. He visited Lord Howe, First Lord
of the Admiralty, “who asked me if I wished to be employed, which I
told him I did”; dined with Lord Hood, who made him feel quite at
home, and told him “that the oftener I came the happier it would make
him.” In January 1784 he was at Bath, and wrote to his brother that
he thought of paying a second visit to the Continent till autumn and
then spending the winter with him at Burnham Thorpe. “I return to many
charming women, _but no charming woman_ will return with me,” is the
plaint. “I want to be a proficient in the language, which is my only
reason for returning. I hate their country and their manners,” which
hatred, it may be said, increased with the passing of the years. This
pessimistic strain is doubtless due to Nelson’s undesirable position as
a half-pay officer, but in the middle of March his somewhat mercurial
temperament underwent a change to “set fair” on his appointment to the
_Boreas_, a frigate of 28 guns, under orders for the Leeward Islands.
The passengers included Lady Hughes, wife of Rear-Admiral Sir Richard
Hughes, Bart., the Commander-in-Chief, and her daughter, whom he very
ungallantly described as “lumber.” His brother, the Rev. William
Nelson, accompanied him as chaplain of the _Boreas_, but returned on
the last day of September 1784 owing to ill-health.
Before leaving Spithead Nelson had an alarming adventure. He was riding
what he describes as a “_blackguard_ horse” in company with a lady,
when both animals bolted. In order to save his legs from being crushed
in a narrow road blocked by a waggon the young gallant was obliged to
throw himself, and he had the ill-luck to fall upon hard stones, which
injured his back and one of his limbs. His fair companion was only
saved from death by the presence of mind of a passer-by who pluckily
seized the bridle of the terrified animal to which she was frantically
clinging.
[Illustration: “He had the ill-luck to fall upon hard stones”
Stephen Reid]
The voyage to Antigua was devoid of incident. It was monotonous, and
Nelson hated nothing so much as monotony. Lady Hughes bored him,
although it is only just to add that he does not appear to have let her
know it. The lady herself was certainly impressed with the kindly way
Nelson treated “the young gentlemen who had the happiness of being on
his Quarter-Deck,” to quote a letter written by her in 1806. “It may
reasonably be supposed,” she goes on, “that among the number of thirty,
there must be timid as well as bold: the timid he never rebuked, but
always wished to show them he desired nothing of them that he would
not instantly do himself: and I have known him say--‘Well, sir, I am
going a race to the masthead, and I beg I may meet you there.’ No
denial could be given to such a wish, and the poor fellow instantly
began his march. His Lordship never took the least notice with what
alacrity it was done, but when he met in the top, instantly began
talking in the most cheerful manner, and saying how much a person was
to be pitied that could fancy there was any danger, or even anything
disagreeable, in the attempt.... In like manner he every day went to
the schoolroom and saw them do their nautical business, and at twelve
o’clock he was first upon the deck with his quadrant. No one there
could be behindhand in his business when their Captain set them so
good an example. One other circumstance I must mention which will
close the subject, which was the day we landed at Barbadoes. We were
to dine at the Governor’s. Our dear Captain said, ‘You must permit me,
Lady Hughes, to carry one of my aides-de-camp with me,’ and when he
presented him to the Governor, he said, ‘Your Excellency must excuse
me for bringing one of my midshipmen, as I make it a rule to introduce
them to all the good company I can, they have few to look up to besides
myself during the time they are at sea.’ This kindness and attention
made the young people adore him; and even his wishes, could they have
been known, would have been instantly complied with.”
When Nelson made the acquaintance of Sir Richard Hughes he disliked
him as much as he did her ladyship. Probably the officer’s methods
rather than the man aroused this feeling of antagonism. “The Admiral
and all about him are great ninnies,” he writes, and he soon showed
in no vague way that he refused to support the Commander-in-chief’s
happy-go-lucky policy. Truth to tell, Nelson had no love of authority.
He preferred to be a kind of attached free-lance, although he was a
strict disciplinarian in all relations between his junior officers
and himself. “I begin to be very strict in my Ship,” is an expression
he used while in the _Boreas_. In particular he fell foul of Hughes
in the matter of putting the Navigation Act into force. This law had
been passed by the Rump Parliament in 1651, when the Dutch held the
proud position of the world’s maritime carriers. It was enacted that
only English ships, commanded by an Englishman and manned by a crew
three-fourths of whom were also of the same nationality, should be
allowed to carry the products of Asia, Africa, and America to home
ports. In a similar manner, European manufactures had to be brought in
English vessels or those of the countries which produced the goods. In
the latter case the duties were heavier. It was Protection pure and
simple.
The Government of Charles II. and the Scottish Parliament passed
similar Acts in later years, thereby fostering the trading companies
which helped to lay the foundations of our colonial empire. Such
measures were a constant “thorn in the flesh” to foreign statesmen.
Several of the statutes were repealed in 1823, but the Navigation
Act was not entirely abandoned by Great Britain until 1848, after an
existence of nearly two hundred years.
Owing to their separation from the Motherland, the former British
colonists of America were, technically, “foreigners,” and should have
been subject to restrictions in their commercial intercourse with the
West Indies. “I, for one,” Nelson confides to Locker, “am determined
not to suffer the Yankees to come where my Ship is; for I am sure,
if once the Americans are admitted to any kind of intercourse with
these Islands, the views of the Loyalists in settling Nova Scotia are
entirely done away. They will first become the Carriers, and next have
possession of our Islands, are we ever again embroiled in a French
war. The residents of these Islands are Americans by connexion and
by interest, and are inimical to Great Britain. They are as great
rebels as ever were in America, had they the power to show it.... I am
determined to suppress the admission of Foreigners all in my power.”
“The Americans,” Nelson tells us in his Autobiography, “when colonists,
possessed almost all the trade from America to our West India Islands;
and on the return of peace, they forgot, on this occasion, that they
became foreigners, and of course had no right to trade in the British
Colonies.
“Our governors and custom-house officers pretended that by the
Navigation Act they had a right to trade; and all the West Indians
wished what was so much for their interest. Having given governors,
custom-house officers, and Americans, notice of what I would do, I
seized many of their vessels, which brought all parties upon me; and I
was persecuted from one island to another, so that I could not leave
my ship.” In this matter it may be said that Nelson found it necessary
to keep himself “a close prisoner” to avoid being served with writs
which had been issued against him by the owners of certain vessels
which he had taken, and who assessed their damages at several thousands
of pounds. “But conscious rectitude,” he adds, “bore me through it;
and I was supported, when the business came to be understood, from
home; and I proved (and an Act of Parliament has since established it)
that a captain of a man-of-war is in duty bound to support all the
maritime laws, by his Admiralty commission alone, without becoming a
custom-house officer.”
The ardent captain also fell foul of Hughes in another matter. The
commissioner of the dockyard at Antigua was Captain Moutray, a
half-pay officer whom Hughes, going beyond his powers, made commodore.
Nelson refused to recognise him as such. The case was investigated
by the Admiralty at the instigation of both parties, with the result
that Nelson was reprimanded for taking the law into his own hands.
Professor Sir J. Knox Laughton, while admitting that “In both cases
Nelson was right in his contention,” is forced to add that “The first
duty of an officer is to obey orders, to submit his doubts to the
Commander-in-chief, and in a becoming manner to remonstrate against
any order he conceives to be improper; but for an officer to settle
a moot-point himself, and to act in contravention of an order given
under presumably adequate knowledge of the circumstances, is subversive
of the very first principles of discipline. And these were not, it
will be noticed, questions arising out of any sudden and unforeseen
emergency, in providing for which Nelson was forced to depart from his
instructions. Such emergencies do arise in the course of service, and
the decision of the officer may be a fair test of his personal worth;
but neither at St Kitts nor at Antigua was there anything calling for
instant decision, or any question which might not have waited, pending
a reference to the Commander-in-chief or to the Admiralty. And this was
the meaning of the Admiralty minute on Nelson’s conduct at Antigua, a
most gentle admonition for what might have been punished as a grave
offence.”
It must not be inferred that there was any personal bitterness on
Nelson’s part regarding the Moutray affair. He conceived it to be
a question of principle, of doing right and shunning wrong: “The
character of an Officer is his greatest treasure: to lower that, is to
wound him irreparably.” He was certainly on excellent terms with the
Commissioner’s wife, for whom he cherished the most friendly feelings.
Indeed, in one of his letters he calls her his “dear, sweet friend....
Her equal I never saw in any country, or in any situation.” Let it be
frankly admitted, however, that Nelson sometimes wore his heart on
his sleeve, and readily betrayed a state of feeling approaching deep
affection for any member of the gentler sex who showed by her ready
sympathy that she possessed a kindly disposition. In the communication
in which the above passage occurs he notes that several of his comrades
had similar amorous tendencies. One officer has proposed and been
refused, another is forestalled in proposing to the lady of his choice
by a more venturesome lover, a third is “attached to a lady at Nevis,”
the said lady being a relation of the future Mrs Nelson. He concludes
with a reference to a niece of Governor Parry, who “goes to Nevis in
the _Boreas_; they trust any young lady with me, being an old-fashioned
fellow.”
On the 12th May 1785 Nelson confides to his brother William that he has
made the acquaintance of “a young Widow,” and towards the end of the
following month he tells the same correspondent, “between ourselves,”
that he is likely to become a “_Benedict_.... Do not tell.” The lady
of his choice was Mrs Nisbet, then twenty-seven years of age and the
mother of a boy. We are fortunate in having copies of many of his
letters to her, for there is a wealth of affection--scarcely love--and
much sage philosophy in them. “My greatest wish is to be united to
you;” he writes on the 11th September 1785, “and the foundation of
all conjugal happiness, real love and esteem, is, I trust, what you
believe I possess in the strongest degree towards you.... We know that
riches do not always insure happiness; and the world is convinced that
I am superior to pecuniary considerations in my public and private
life; as in both instances I might have been rich.” “You are too good
and indulgent;” he avers on another occasion, “I both know and feel
it: but my whole life shall ever be devoted to make you completely
happy, whatever whims may sometimes take me. We are none of us perfect,
and myself probably much less so than you deserve.” “Fortune, that
is, money, is the only thing I regret the want of, and that only for
the sake of my affectionate Fanny. But the Almighty, who brings us
together, will, I doubt not, take ample care of us, and prosper all our
undertakings. No dangers shall deter me from pursuing every honourable
means of providing handsomely for you and yours....”
The messages lack the passionate fire of Napoleon’s notes to Josephine,
and on occasion are apt to be rather too business-like for love
letters. The romance did not end like the fairy stories, they did not
live “happily ever after,” but there is no reason to doubt that Nelson
cherished a fond affection for the young widow. “Her sense,” he informs
his brother, “polite manners, and to you I may say, beauty, you will
much admire: and although at present we may not be a rich couple, yet
I have not the least doubt but we shall be a happy pair:--the fault
must be mine if we are not.” Subsequent events proved the truth of the
latter remark.
In due course Sir Richard Hughes was succeeded in the command of the
Leeward Islands by Sir Richard Bickerton. Nelson complains towards the
end of 1786 that “A total stop is put to our carrying on the Navigation
Laws,” thereby showing that the old problem had by no means been solved
so far as he was concerned.
On the 12th March 1787 Nelson and Mrs Nisbet were married at Nevis.
Prince William Henry, then captain of the _Pegasus_ and under Nelson’s
command, gave away the bride. Three months later the newly-wedded
captain was at Spithead, the almost unseaworthy condition of the
_Boreas_ making it impossible for her to stand another hurricane season
in the West Indies.
Nelson was placed on half-pay, a state which he by no means liked. In
May 1788 he had reason to believe that he would be employed again. “I
have invariably laid down,” he tells a friend, “and followed close, a
plan of what ought to be uppermost in the breast of an Officer: that it
is much better to serve an ungrateful Country, than to give up his own
fame. Posterity will do him justice: a uniform conduct of honour and
integrity seldom fails of bringing a man to the goal of Fame at last.”
Nelson visited Plymouth, Bath, and London, and finally settled down at
Burnham Thorpe. His letters reveal the keenness with which he desired
to obtain employment. He applied to both Viscount Howe, First Lord
of the Admiralty, and to Lord Hood, but all his overtures came to
nought. In September 1789 he tells his old friend Locker that “I am
now commencing Farmer, not a very large one, you will conceive, but
enough for amusement. Shoot I cannot, therefore I have not taken out a
license; but notwithstanding the neglect I have met with, I am happy,
and now I see the propriety of not having built my hopes on such sandy
foundations as the friendships of the Great.”
Not until January 1793 were his dearest wishes granted. “After clouds
comes sunshine,” he writes to his wife from London. “The Admiralty
so smile upon me, that really I am as much surprised as when they
frowned. Lord Chatham yesterday made many apologies for not having
given me a Ship before this time, and said, that if I chose to take a
Sixty-four to begin with, I should be appointed to one as soon as she
was ready; and whenever it was in his power, I should be removed into a
Seventy-four. Everything indicates War....”