Caribbean: a novel Part 22

Her good wishes for his career in her husband's navy were so generous, and delivered with such honest warmth, that this last supper ended in general benevolence, with Nelson even smiling at Round Rosy, as the younger officers called her. 'Mistress Rosy, I do believe I've seen some of my men making eyes at you,' Nelson said, joking good-naturedly with the girl, and at the end of the meal a bright-eyed officer, who had ambition but no prospects of help from his family, stopped by to ask permission to lead Miss Rosy for a walk around the deck, which both Lady Hughes and Captain Nelson granted almost too eagerly, and as the two departed, Nelson thought: Clever chap. He's heard about the dowry. And he felt so relieved to be free of responsibility for the admiral's ungainly child that he almost forgot that he was paying, out of his meager salary, the costs of her courtship.

Horatio Nelson was twenty-seven when he sailed the Boreas into the roadstead at Barbados and took temporary quarters ash.o.r.e at The Giralda Inn, but his character was already formed, many parts of it not pleasant. Ambitious almost to the point of frenzy, he was intensely jealous of even the slightest prerogative that might accrue to him, and he was so bold in defending his rights that within a few days of his arrival at the station, it was so obvious that he was going to be difficult that one-eyed Admiral Hughes, who was nearing retirement and who had hoped to round off his duty without unpleasantness, warned his wife: 'I think we may have trouble on our hands with that young man you seem to like.' But she defended Nelson: 'He's stern, but he's just, and I doubt you've ever had a better.'

The admiral's prediction was the right one, for the moment at least, because his young captain set something of a record by immediately precipitating a series of crises, each stemming from his vanity and obsessive demand for recognition. The first, as might be expected, arose from his mortal distrust of anything French. Upon putting into the island of Guadeloupe to pay a courtesy call at Point--Pitre he became so outraged when the proper respect was not paid to the British flag, he initiated protests of such vehemence that they might have led to war, except that the French backed down and fired the proper salutes. Storming ash.o.r.e, he demanded that the officer who had been delinquent be punished, and only when this was done did his anger subside. 'No Frenchman humiliates a ship commanded by Horatio Nelson,' he told Lieutenant Wrentham.

But he could also show his fury to English malefactors, for when on the same voyage he approached for the first time the splendid anchorage on the island of Antigua, known then as English Harbour, and later as Nelson's, he studied not the beauty of the place nor the security it would offer a battle fleet, but a military sight which infuriated him.

'Lieutenant!' he shouted in his high-pitched voice. 'What do I see hanging from the yardarm of that ship over there?'

'I do believe it's a broad pendant, sir,' and when Nelson put his gla.s.s upon it his suspicions were confirmed; the English ship riding at anchor did fly a broad pendant, a kind of long flag which indicated that the ship displaying it was personally commanded by the senior officer in the area, and in this case that officer could only be Nelson himself.

In slow, carefully accented words Nelson demanded: 'What ship could that possibly be, Lieutenant?'

'A supply ship, based here in Antigua.'

'And who would be the captain of such a workhorse ship?'

'Someone appointed by the land-based officer in charge of the base, I presume.'

'Send for that someone!' Nelson thundered, and when the unhappy young man stood nervously before him, Nelson asked in tones of ice: 'Have you any order from Admiral Hughes to fly a broad pendant?'

'No, sir.'

'Then why do you dare to do it when I am the senior officer present?'

'The officer in charge of the base gave me permission.'

'Does he command any ship of war?'

'No, sir.'

'Then strike it, sir. Immediately. I am the senior officer in Antigua and I demand the respect due my rank.' And he watched while Lieutenant Wrentham rowed the frightened young man back to his ship, where the two officers quickly lowered the offending flag. Only then did Nelson raise his own pendant aloft. When Wrentham returned, Nelson told him: 'I'm in command in these waters and I intend to let people know it.'

He soon had the opportunity to prove his determination, for one calm, sunny afternoon when the 24-gun Boreas was on patrol among the small islands north of Antigua, he came by chance upon a trading vessel flying the flag of the newly const.i.tuted United States of America. Since the provisions of the famed Navigation Act of 1764 forbade all commerce, no matter how trivial, between the British islands of the Caribbean and the merchants of Boston, New York and Philadelphia, Nelson, obedient to those harsh laws, saw it as his duty to arrest this illegal intruder.

'Lieutenant, be so kind as to put a shot across her bow,' and when this was done a second time, the astonished Boston ship hove to and allowed herself to be boarded by the Englishmen. When her captain was brought to the Boreas, Nelson demanded: 'And why do you trade in these waters when you know it is forbidden?' and the captain almost laughed when offering his reply: 'But, sir! We've been trading with your islands since time out of mind. You want our spars and horses. We want your sugar and mola.s.ses.'

Nelson's jaw dropped: 'You mean other of your ships are engaged in this unlawful trade?'

'Many. All your islands are hungry for what we have to sell.'

'Such traffic ends today,' and he ordered his men to board the American trader and toss overboard the entire cargo. But Wrentham was soon back, reporting: 'Sir, he was telling the truth. He has sixteen fine horses aboard.'

'Overboard, like all the rest.'

'But, sir ...' And upon reflection, Nelson conceded: 'We'll land the horses ash.o.r.e. Confiscated property.' But when he did so he found that no one in Antigua had ordered them or had specific use for them, and this perplexed him, until the young officer who had flown the broad pendant improperly suggested in a whisper: 'We could take them to the French islands, where the lack of a reliable breeze makes it necessary for them to import horses to work their sugar mills. In Guadeloupe those sixteen horses will be worth a fortune.'

Drawing himself to his full height, which was not great, Nelson stormed: 'Me, Horatio Nelson? Trading with the French to their advantage? Never!' and he ordered that the captured horses be distributed free among the farmers of Antigua.

But this act of generosity did not make him a hero to the Antiguans, nor to the English planters in nearby St. Kitts and Nevis, either, for the well-to-do businessmen of all the islands, English and French alike, had grown accustomed to the secret arrival of ships from the United States and dependent upon the profits earned in such trade. They were therefore perturbed when the new commander of the fleet in their waters stated publicly that he intended not only putting a stop to this illegality but also arresting those merchants ash.o.r.e who connived at it.

When word of his decision circulated in the islands, Nelson found himself confronted first by stern advisers, who warned him: 'Captain Nelson, if you interfere with this profitable trade, our islands will suffer grievously,' and then by actual revolutionaries, who brazenly announced that they would continue the trade, whether he liked it or not. Fuming in his cabin on the Boreas, he threatened to hang any man who did business with the American blockade runners, but before he could announce his intentions ash.o.r.e, Wrentham prudently warned against such a p.r.o.nouncement, whereupon Nelson turned his attention away from the Englishmen in Antigua and toward the insolent Americans on the high seas. In the weeks that followed he captured one Yankee vessel after another, confiscating and dumping a fortune in trade goods and putting island commerce in peril. The outcries of the damaged American sea captains were reinforced by the wails of the English traders, but Nelson remained impervious to both.

He loathed Americans, seamen or not, on grounds which he expressed forcefully to Wrentham: 'Good heavens, man! They were part of the British Empire, weren't they? What better could happen to a land than to be an honorable part of our system? Look at those pitiful French islands compared to the order and sanity of Barbados and Antigua. Those d.a.m.ned Americans, little better than savages, should get down on their knees and beg us to take them back ... to decency ... to civilization. And mark my words, Alistair, one of these days they'll do just that!' He simply could not understand why the colonies should have battled to be what they called free when they could have remained a part of England.

Infuriated by their ingrat.i.tude, he found positive pleasure in sinking or capturing their impertinent ships, not caring about the effect on the islands' sugar producers, and turning a deaf ear to the plea so well voiced by their spokesman, one Mr. Herbert of Nevis: 'There are not enough British trading ships to supply our needs, nor do they arrive often enough to provision us. Without the Americans we'll starve.'

Nelson, like most naval officers, especially those who traditionally came from circles of social prominence, held in awe those exalted families that had inherited fortunes but despised those hardworking merchants who were in the process of acquiring theirs. The latter were beneath contempt, necessary perhaps, but hardly people with whom one would care to a.s.sociate, and to hear them complaining against the manner in which their betters ran the empire was intolerable: 'Dammit, Wrentham. England sends out what ships she deems best and at what times she proposes. Let 'em accommodate themselves to us, not us to them.'

Navy personnel acquainted with Nelson soon realized that he never used the words Britain or Great Britain, nor did he take it kindly when his officers did so in his presence: 'It's an English fleet, commanded by English officers trained in the great traditions of English seamen, and upstart American pirates invading our waters better be careful of their ships ... and their lives.' He never wavered from those simple convictions: Americans were a worrisome lot of ungrateful freebooters. Merchants were a grubby lot who should be ignored. And both should be disciplined by English naval officers, who tended to know what was best for everybody. Some twenty years hence, on the morning of his death at the youthful age of forty-seven, when it came time to utter the most famous phrase of naval history, he did not refer to Great Britain. Instead, he harkened back to his basic belief that it was England which was destined to rule the world: 'England expects every man will do his duty.'*

On a historic day in January 1785, Captain Nelson sailed the Boreas to the beautiful little island of Nevis to discuss matters regarding the sugar trade with that community's leading English planter, the same Mr. Herbert who had lectured him in Antigua about the desirability of allowing American freebooters to continue their illicit trade in the Caribbean. Always fascinated by money, but loath to a.s.sociate with mere merchants, he told Wrentham prior to the meeting with Herbert: 'He is, we must remember, a sugar planter with proper estates and not some hawker of vegetables.' And Nelson became excited when Wrentham reported the results of cautious inquiries: 'Sir, this Herbert, he's the richest fellow in Nevis, Kitts or Antigua. Has a daughter Martha, but she'll inherit none of his great wealth because she's marrying against his wishes. His great fortune will go to a very attractive niece, a Mrs. Nisbet ...'

'But if she's already married ...'

'Widow. Five years younger than you, just right. Has a fine-looking five-year-old son.'

At this information, Nelson began daydreaming: An attractive widow, very wealthy, with a fine son already in being-that fits my requirement for a perfect naval marriage. With secured funds and a family safe at home, a man could venture against the French with every feeling of security. To get at one blow a wife, a fortune and a great ship of seventy-four guns ... I hear the stately march of mourners' feet in Westminster Abbey.

He was thus in a frame of mind to fall in love with the Widow Nisbet even before he saw her, and when she first came fluttering into the room of her uncle's mansion in Nevis, she swept Nelson away, for she was delicately beautiful, charming, witty in conversation, and gifted as a musician. Her attributes, which were many, were enhanced by the fine deportment of her son, Josiah, who at age five already wanted to go to sea. But most rea.s.suring of all was the intelligence which his trusted friend Alistair Wrentham quietly collected for Nelson when the latter returned starry-eyed to the Boreas: 'It's impossible to determine just how much money old Herbert has, but it must be tremendous, because he controls three different sugar plantations, his factors a.s.sure me that year after year he ships back to London at least six hundred hogsheads of sugar. I've made my own count of his slaves and they're worth not less than sixty thousand pounds. Can you imagine what the total fortune has to be?'

Nelson could not. But Wrentham, enthusiastic and accustomed to large figures, cried: 'With his wealth, Herbert could easily provide his niece with twenty thousand. Now, if you invested that in Consols at five percent, you'd have ... how much? Wonderful! You'd have a thousand pounds a year!' But upon reflection, Wrentham thought that the old man might want to give as much as 40,000 outright, which would yield a handsome two thousand a year, and this figure became fixed in Nelson's mind as securely as if Mr. Herbert had promised it in writing; he was going to be a rich man, a condition to which he felt he was ent.i.tled.

Despite the fact that Lieutenant Wrentham had a.s.sured himself that Nelson was going to be a wealthy man, he frequently caught himself thinking about his exciting days at Trevelyan Plantation, and lamenting: Why couldn't it have been Prudence Pembroke and not this one? Prudence had all the money Nelson needed, and beauty too. Her family could have been even more influential in gaining him promotions. There's something about this affair ... maybe her having a son ... that I don't like. Besides, Nelson is not in good health. His constant attention to detail continues to wear him down, and he ought to be thinking about taking a long rest rather than getting married. Then he would visualize Prudence as he had seen her that first day on the steps of Golden Hall, an apparition of delight in her charming dress, her welcoming smile, and he would drop his head and move it slowly from side to side, as if attempting to turn back the clock to those happy days when he was striving to find a wife for the man he revered.

No place for regrets, now, he told himself one day as he watched Nelson launch his tempestuous courtship of Mrs. Nisbet. Frustrated so many times before, and needing money now more than ever, Nelson also felt that he must not allow this dazzling opportunity to escape, and since f.a.n.n.y Nisbet apparently felt the same way, a love match was under way. But there was one small cloud threatening this dreamy landscape: Mr. Herbert pointed out that his niece had contracted to serve as his housekeeper, and he could not see his way clear to releasing her from those duties for another eighteen months. So the love-smitten couple had to waste all of 1785 and much of the next year in courtship rather than marriage, but since this occurred on the lovely little island of Nevis, the long months acquired a fairy-tale aspect, and that kept Nelson content.

Only one weakness in the marriage plan kept intruding, that Herbert's natural daughter might move back into his affections and thus imperil Mrs. Nisbet's fortune. But Wrentham made discreet inquiries and brought Nelson news that was both rea.s.suring and scandalous: 'Martha is stubbornly going ahead with the marriage her father refuses to approve-and who do you think the man is?'

'I've no interest.'

'You will. It's a Mr. Hamilton, and he's related to that other Hamilton from Nevis, the famous Alexander who played such a despicable role in America's revolution against us and who now parades as one of the leaders of the new nation.'

'I refuse to a.s.sociate with traitors or friends of traitors,' Nelson said angrily, but Alistair soothed him: 'No need to see the American scoundrel or the Nevis one, either. Remember, father and daughter don't speak. The fortune is secured to f.a.n.n.y.'

So on 11 March 1787, in a lavish ceremony at Mr. Herbert's Nevis mansion, Nelson, attended by no less a person than Prince William, son of George III and later to be crowned as King William IV, marched beneath a festooned bower to where f.a.n.n.y Nisbet and her young son waited. It was a gala affair, this wedding of the promising young naval officer and an heiress whose huge fortune would spur his career. But the future king, known to his friends as Silly Billy, took a more cautious view, for in a letter to a friend he made four statements: 'I gave the bride away. She is pretty. She has a great deal of money. Nelson is in love with her. But he needs a nurse more than he does a wife.' Ominously, he added: 'I wish that he may not repent the step he has taken.'

Wrentham, suppressing his apprehensions about the marriage, joined the other junior officers that evening at a banquet, and they congratulated themselves on having, in a small way, helped their gifted friend achieve the financial security he had so long and heretofore so fruitlessly pursued. As Wrentham, thinking of his own improved chances for promotion if Nelson prospered in the service, reminded his fellows: 'A rising tide lifts all ships in the harbor. When Nelson climbs the ladder of preferment, we climb with him.'

Then everything seemed to fall apart. With a shock that threatened to unnerve him, Nelson discovered that his wife was not five years younger than he, but five months older. He then learned that Mr. Herbert, owner of this immense sugar fortune, was by no means disposed to settle upon his niece any sum ensuring her 2,000 a year; he was willing to provide an annuity of 100, which, with the hundred that Nelson had in his own right, meant that the newlyweds could count upon a meager 200 a year until such time as Mr. Herbert died, when the whole fortune would presumably pa.s.s to Mrs. Nelson.

But now Lieutenant Wrentham brought appalling news: 'Martha Hamilton, Herbert's recently married daughter, has effected a reconciliation with her father, and it's she who will inherit the entire fortune.' When Nelson, in a state of trembling agitation, asked Mr. Herbert about this, he was told that 'blood is thicker than water,' and that furthermore, Nelson would be wise to tend to his own affairs, since the merchants of the Caribbean were about to bring legal charges against him for interfering with their trade with Boston and New York.

Nelson's enemies laid a devious trap. Knowing him to be rigorously honest and an officer devoted to any printed instructions, they used decoys to let him know that two land-based officials of the English navy yards in the Caribbean were stealing governmental funds, and although Wrentham warned against precipitate action, Nelson came out raging like a bull, publicly charged the men with theft, and then recoiled in stunned amazement when they fought back, bringing their own charges against him and suing him for the frightening sum of 40,000.

His last days in the Caribbean, a sea he had grown to love for its opulence, its marvelous islands and their safe harbors, were miserable. Tied to a near-penniless wife five years older than he had been led to believe, saddled with the care of a boy he had not fathered, scorned by the powerful men on the sugar estates, and hounded by lawyers pursuing their lawsuits against him, he felt so badgered from all sides that he cried aloud like Job: 'Why did I ever sail into this accursed sea?' In his despair he overlooked the fact that it was in these waters that he identified his true merits-his courage, his fort.i.tude, his inventiveness, his ability to command men-those attributes so essential to military leadership and so often left undeveloped by would-be commanders. It was in the Caribbean that he forged his character, almost terrifying in its single-mindedness, shameful in its willingness to beg and kowtow to authority if one command of a ship could be obtained. He was a product of the Caribbean, as he may have foreseen when as a beginning officer he had rejected that glamorous a.s.signment in the New York fleet in order to take a command in the Caribbean 'because that's the station for gaining honour.' In his dark days he may have rejected the Caribbean, but when he sailed away from it, he was one of the most resolute men in the world at that time. Great sea battles are often won on sh.o.r.e, where future captains are hardening themselves for the day of test.

But, as always, he felt that others owed him funds for his career and recommendations for promotion to better a.s.signment. 'Why,' he asked Wrentham plaintively, 'doesn't Admiral Hughes over in Barbados do anything to defend me against my enemies or promote me among my friends?' Alistair laughed: 'You must know that Hughes is a ninny. Spent all his time doing nothing but trying to find a husband for Rosy.'

'What's happened to the little pudding?'

'Didn't you hear? He offered young Lieutenant Kelly who sailed with us five thousand pounds if he'd marry Rosy. But Kelly was no fool. Married that lively cousin of your wife's.'

'And Rosy?'

Wrentham laughed, and said with great warmth: 'It made me feel good when it happened. Lady Hughes and the admiral combed the entire fleet but could press-gang no one. However, an impecunious major in the 67th Infantry Regiment, a n.o.body named John Browne, finally took the bait, picked up the whole five thousand and Rosy as well. I attended the wedding, and you never saw a happier pair-Rosy, who never expected to find a husband, and good old Browne, grinning with upper teeth not meeting the lower, because he'd never expected to have a fortune. And off to one side Admiral Hughes, looking as if he'd just won a battle against the French.'

Nelson was forgiving: 'Hughes can't be as bad as everyone says. After all, he did lose his eye in combat and I respect him for it.'

'Have you never heard how he really lost it?'

'In battle with Rodney against the French, I presumed.'

'No. He was in his kitchen in Barbados trying to kill a giant c.o.c.kroach with a fork. Missed the dirty beast but stabbed himself in the eye.'

Now came the terrible years which would have destroyed a lesser man. Most men did not realize how terrible they were, because they were accompanied by no hurricanes, no exploding fires at night, no sudden deaths, no incarceration, no dismemberment, no imbecility. What the years did bring were fierce storms that did not ruffle the surface of a country lake but that tore at a human soul, and left it so ravaged that the visible outer sh.e.l.l might have disintegrated had not the owner firmed his courage and his will and cried: 'No! It cannot be so! I will not let this happen!'

When Nelson brought H.M.S. Boreas home to the Thames in England he was handed the instructions he feared: 'Your ship is to be decommissioned and your crew paid off.' The words paid off had a sinister ring, for they meant that the ordinary sailors who had served long and faithfully would be thrown ash.o.r.e with a few pounds-in some cases, only four or five-and no promise of employment or money for medical bills in case they had lost an arm or a leg. Midshipmen received nothing, and even the officers left the ship they had tended so faithfully without enough pay to enable them to live decently in the empty years ahead.

Of course, if France kicked up her heels, and ominous rumors kept coming out of that unfortunate country, the Boreas would be expected to sail staffed by a group of Englishmen like the ones who were now being tossed aside. So Horatio Nelson left his first senior command with only half-pay and some a.s.surance that he would be recalled to active service 'if and when the need arises.'

What was he to do at age twenty-nine-with a new wife, a young son, no fortune, and not even a house into which he might move? He did what other officers like himself did in peacetime: he moved back into his father's home at Norfolk. There he tended the garden, planting vegetables in the spring, flowers in the summer, and 'neating up the place' throughout the year.

Nelson's neighbors, watching him occupied with rural tasks and seeing him in attendance at fairs where vegetables were judged and loaves of bread compared, accepted him as one of themselves, and when this happened a curious shift occurred: everyone began calling him familiarly by his boyhood name, Horace. Weeks would go by without his ever hearing his real name, and before long he started thinking of himself as Farmer Horace.

But he never lost that other side of his nature, for often after attending some rural festival, he would return to his father's rectory and sit at a desk long into the night, writing innumerable long and pleading letters to his wealthy friends, imploring them to find him an a.s.signment with the navy, and in a shocking number of cases, beseeching them not to lend him money but to 'settle upon me that degree of money you can well afford and which I need so desperately if I am to maintain my position as one of the king's naval captains.'

His pleas, and there were scores of them each year, went unanswered; he was given no ship; he was the recipient of a miserable amount of half-pay; and for five desperate years he continued to live by begging from his father's meager largesse, all the while depriving his faithful but tedious wife of new dresses and the other small enjoyments to which she was ent.i.tled. The Horace Nelsons were living in genteel poverty, for their 200 a year allowed them no frivolities and not too many essentials.

However, the couple did scrimp so that Horace could, at intervals, make the journey to London, where he trudged from one government office to another, begging for a ship. He told the Lords of the Admiralty: 'I'm trained to be a naval officer. I know how to command a ship, ensure the courage of my crew, and fight the enemy as he has never been fought before. Sirs, I must have a ship.' Never given a logical reason, he was consistently rebuffed.

And then late one afternoon in 1792, after he had dragged himself from one insulting interview to another, he chanced upon an old naval friend coming out of one of the Admiralty offices. It was his former first lieutenant, Alistair Wrentham, very handsome in the braid of a navy captain. Greeting each other with embraces, they repaired to a coffeehouse, where Wrentham reported with obvious pleasure that he had recently been given command of a 64-gun vessel headed for a patrol of the French coast, but as soon as he said these words he saw Nelson stiffen, and from this he deduced that his friend, six years older than himself and with a vastly superior understanding of ships, was 'on the beach,' with scant prospects of getting off.

'I'm so sorry, Nelson. It's so dashed unfair.'

'What has caused this embargo against me? If you know, tell me.'

Wrentham drew back, studied his old captain, and asked: 'Do you really want to know?'

'I do, I do!'

Before speaking, Wrentham leaned forward and placed his two hands on those of his friend, as if to prevent him from taking violent action when he learned the explanation: 'Nelson, you must know that word has circulated through the Admiralty condemning you as a very difficult man.'

Withdrawing his hands with a fierce tug, Nelson cried in great pain: 'Difficult? I run my ship in proper style. I bring dignity and efficiency to the navy.'

Having launched this unpleasant discussion, Wrentham did not propose halting in midflight, and in firm tones he ticked off the acc.u.mulated complaints: 'On your first day in Antigua, remember, you made that other fellow lower his broad pendant, forcibly, as the situation demanded.'

'He had no right to it, Alistair. It was totally against the rules.'

'You also provoked the French at Guadeloupe ... could have been an international incident.'

'No Frenchman fails to pay proper respect to a ship I command.'

'Then you continued your warfare against the American smugglers.'

'The Navigation Acts demanded that I chastise them.'

'And chastise you did. Their captains are bringing suit against you in the London courts.'

'Who circulated these charges against me at Admiralty?'

'Admiral Hughes of the Barbados Station. He tells everyone that you are headstrong and difficult.'

'You mean Ninny Hughes? Father of Rosy that he peddled through the fleet? The one who knocked out his own eye while trying to kill a c.o.c.kroach?'

'The same. I was informed by a friend in high office, Nelson, that you're never to be given a ship unless the revolutionaries in France stir up trouble.'

Nelson heard this cynical strategy in silence, then, to Wrentham's surprise, he lifted his coffee cup and held it delicately in the fingers of his right hand, twisting it this way and that. Only then did he control his anger sufficiently to permit speech: 'Alistair, it's been the same in all the navies of the world. In peacetime, what the high command wants is the polished gentleman who can manage a teacup in a lady's salon, one who can meet the Turkish amba.s.sador, who can keep his decks trim and whitestoned. And never, never do they want a true sailor like me who can command a ship and fight her with the total loyalty of my men. To h.e.l.l with teacups,' and he dashed the one he held to the floor with a great clatter that brought one of the serving maids running.

'I am so sorry, my girl,' he apologized. 'It slipped.'

After the girl returned with another cup, he resumed: 'But when the guns begin to roar and the coastline is endangered by some Spanish armada or French expeditionary force, then the navies of the world shout for men like me: "Come, save us ... Drake, or Hawkins, or Rodney!" And always we respond, for we have no other occupation but to save the homeland.'

Afraid that he had revealed far more of himself than he intended, he looked rather sheepishly at Wrentham, then placed his hands on those of the young captain: 'Alistair, it's obvious that I envy you your command. I wish it were mine ... to have a ship again ...' He hesitated, then pressed his hands more tightly: 'But you must understand, dear friend, although I envy you, I do not resent you. You have your own career to make, and you're off to a fine start.' He was quiet for a moment before he concluded: 'When France strikes and they call me back to command ... maybe the entire battle fleet, I shall want you in charge of my starboard line. I can trust you, because I know you are not concerned only with teacups.'

If Nelson had said generously in London that he did not resent young Wrentham's good fortune in getting a ship of sixty-four guns, on the lonely ride back to Norfolk he could not prevent a terrible indignation from overwhelming him: Boys! They're placing boys in command, and we men in our thirties rust in idleness. While the coach b.u.mped along, he reviewed his miserable situation: Saddled with a wife who grows more complaining each day, responsible for the education of a son not my own, defrauded by her uncle of a legacy I had every right to expect, and deprived of a ship by rumors ... Grinding his fist into his knees, he concluded: My life's in tatters and there's no hope.

He was therefore in dismal condition when he reached home to find his wife distraught: 'Oh, Horace! Two of the most dreadful men banged their way through our front door, demanded to know if I was the wife of the naval officer Nelson, and when I said yes, they thrust these papers at me.'

'What papers?'

'That lawsuit in Antigua. They've moved it to London and are demanding forty thousand pounds. Said that if you didn't pay, you'd rot in prison for the rest of your life.'

In the rage that followed, Nelson did so many seemingly irrational things that his wife and father conspired to send a messenger to London to Captain Alistair Wrentham, whom Nelson had spoken of as the only friend he could trust, and when they learned that the young officer was a lineal member of the Earl of Gore's family, they had hopes that he might help clear away the confusion that possessed Horace. With a promptness that surprised them, young Wrentham arrived in Norfolk to find that his old commander had packed his belongings and was preparing for a hasty flight to France.

'My G.o.d, Horatio! What are you doing?'

To his surprise, Nelson fell upon him with an ardent embrace: 'It's so good to hear that name again, Alistair. Up here they call me Horace. And I really began to think of myself as Horace. But dammit, I'm a sea captain named Horatio, and a good one!'

'But why the packing?'

'Flight.'

'To where?'

'I don't know. Those scoundrels in Antigua have moved their lawsuit against me to London ... forty thousand pounds ... prison for life if I don't pay up.' In a gesture of despair and futility, he cried in his high-pitched voice: 'Where would I get forty thousand pounds?'

'Horatio! Be sensible. Government have already promised they'll defend your suit. You acted in their behalf, even Admiral Hughes admits that.'