A. T. (Alfred Thayer) Mahan - The Life of Nelson, Vol. II. (of 2)

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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 _elite_ 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
Bronte, 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.

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