The Letter-Bag of Lady Elizabeth Spencer-Stanhope Part 6

LETTERS OF AN EXILE

To a man far distant from the memorable scene of Lord Melville's trial, the news of the verdict, sent by Mrs Stanhope, must have caused peculiar satisfaction.

Among her numerous correspondents at this date, probably few had been more frequently in her thoughts during the past two years than her kinsman, Cuthbert Collingwood. From her earliest days, indeed, he had occupied a certain prominence in her horizon. Her mother, Winifred Collingwood, had belonged to another branch of the Northumberland family which owned a common ancestor with that of the afterwards famous Admiral, [1] and this tie had been strengthened rather than diminished throughout the pa.s.sing of generations by the propinquity of the two branches.

In the commencement of his naval career, Cuthbert Collingwood, on board the _Lennox_, had attracted the hearty approbation of Mrs Stanhope's other relation, Admiral Roddam, [2] the grand old veteran who had been in the service about thirty-seven years before his young neighbour from Northumberland had become his midshipman. In 1787 he won as warm an appreciation from her husband when he stayed at Cannon Hall and first made the acquaintance of Walter Stanhope, who then formed for him a lifelong friendship. During the all-too-brief period when Collingwood was on sh.o.r.e, there occur entries in Stanhope's Journal recording many a quiet rubber of whist played with the man whose harsh fate was to render such moments of happy social intercourse a precious recollection through long, lonely years. Returned to his post, Captain Collingwood's thoughts clung to that family circle he had left-to the man who basked in the happiness of a home life from which he, personally, was debarred. Year by year Collingwood kept his kinsman Stanhope in touch with all his movements. Year by year, Stanhope and his wife responded, supplying the absent seaman with news of the chief events which were happening in the political world at home. And the letters from Collingwood, with their stern grip of a strenuous life, with their deep underlying tragedy of a profound loneliness, afford a curious contrast to the shallow utterances of other correspondents. Over the intervening miles of ocean, from that isolated soul on guard, they reached the family in Grosvenor Square, bearing, so it seemed, something of the freshness and the force of the wind-rocked brine which they had traversed. Into that restless routine of London life, they carried the echo of a distant clash of arms, the mutterings of a brooding storm. They told how the sea-dogs upon the alert were playing a desperate game of tactics with their country's foe, the outcome of which none could foretell and the chances of which few dared to contemplate. And in the minds of those to whom they were addressed they awoke an answering apprehension, which entered into the heart of their home-life, for one of that circle, little William Stanhope, was shortly to join his great kinsman at sea and to play his small part in the fierce ocean drama which was going forward.

_Captain Collingwood to Walter Spencer-Stanhope_.

_"Dreadnought" off_ CADIZ, _July 10th, 1805._

I shall have great pleasure in taking your young sailor into my care, whenever you chuse he should come--and you may a.s.sure yourself that I will be as regardful of everything that relates to him as you yourself could be. Considering how uncertain my situation is or where I may be at any particular period, had I known your intention in March, I should have recommended that he embarked then, and made his first essay in a warm country and far from home....

When I sailed from England I had under my command a fine fleet, but the change of circ.u.mstances since that has both altered my destination and reduced my force. I am now blocking up the ports here. On my arrival I found the Spaniards on the point of sailing, waiting only for the Carthagena Squadron to join them, and _they_ were actually at sea, in their way down, but recalled by a dispatch boat on our appearance off the coast. We never know whether we go too fast or too slow--had I been a few days later, we should probably have met them at sea with their ten sail, and made a good day of it.

And he proceeds to append a comment on the news of Lord Melville's impeachment which had just reached him from Mrs Stanhope.

Oh! how I lament the fall of Lord Melville! But I never can consent to rank him amongst the herd of peculators who prey upon the publick. He has been negligent in the economy and management of his office--he has paid too little attention to the management of his own money affairs.

Had he been avaricious and greedy of wealth how many years has he been in official situations wherein he might have enriched himself--and is yet as poor as poverty, for I have it from good authority that his patent of n.o.bility was several months in office before he could raise 2000 to pay the fees of it, and Melville Castle must have been sold if his son had not taken it.

Then the virulence with which he has been pursued from all quarters-- not merely submitting his case to the calm deliberations of Parliament, or the lawful decisions of Courts of Justice, but made a subject for Pot house discussion, where the sn.o.bby meetings of half- drunk mechanicks have been convened to pa.s.s judgment on a man whose whole life has been devoted to his country's service, and whose conduct has been unimpeached till now. It is disgraceful to the justice of the country, for it matters little what may be the decision of a Court hereafter, when a man is already condemned in the publick opinion. Those to whom Lord Melville was before indifferent and those who blame the negligence of his office, have acquired a sort of respect for his misfortunes, in being the object of such a factious hue & cry.

I was very sorry to hear Mr Collingwood [3] had been so indifferent in his health last spring, but I hope the warm weather will be of service to him--the last I heard from his home he was better, I beg my best and kindest regards to Mrs Stanhope & all your family and wishing you & them health and every possible happiness.

I am, dear Sir, Your faithful & most humble servant, CUTHBERT COLLINGWOOD.

_The Same._ _Sept 23rd._

It is a long time since I have heard from England.... I have here a very laborious and a very anxious time. You will have heard from my wife, perhaps the narrow escape I have had from being cut off by the combined fleet. At that time I had only three ships with me and a frigate--they had 36 sail, and had they managed their affairs with the least ingenuity, I should have found it a very difficult thing to have fought my way through them, but we made good use of their want of skill and after seeing them safe into Port, we continued on our Station to blockade the town and prevent all commerce.

I hope the Admiralty will give me credit for maintaining my station in the neighbourhood of so powerfull a fleet, for I never quitted them for a day, though I had but four ships; but now that I am reinforced by the squadron under Sir R. Calder, I have a fine fleet of 26 ships of line and some small frigates; and hope every good--and with G.o.d's blessing with me will do a good day's work for my country, whenever they give me an opportunity. That done, I shall be glad to retire to my home & enjoy the comforts of my family, for my strength fails, and the mind being on the full stretch, sinks and needs relief.

I have a gentleman from Newcastle for my Captain, but he is a man of no talent as a sea-officer and of little a.s.sistance to me.

How glad I shall be to get to my garden again at Morpeth and quitting the foe, see for the rest of my life only friends about me.

Ever through the thunder of cannon or the stress of a watch which ceased neither day nor night, through the threatenings of death or the allurements of fame, one thought was paramount in Collingwood's mind. A yearning for a peaceful garden he had left behind--to him a veritable garden of Paradise--for the innocent prattle of his children, the sweet companionship of his wife. A dream of reunion tormented and sustained him.

"Whenever I think how I am to be happy again my thoughts carry me back to Morpeth," he wrote. Incapable of a dramatic appeal to sympathy, his letters to Stanhope, in their strong self-repression, breathe a longing the more profound. For that Paradise of his dreams Collingwood would have joyfully bartered fame, emolument, all that the world could offer, had not duty claimed from him a prolonged sacrifice of all which he held dear.

Whether, if he could have looked on through the few remaining years of his life and have foreseen the end of that longing and those dreams, his weary spirit could still have borne the burden laid upon it, none may say. But buoyed up by that ever-present hope he faced the strain of his eternal watching with an unflinching courage, which may have been occasionally strengthened by a recollection which visited him, and the remarkable circ.u.mstances of which cannot be ignored.

For the week before the war had broken out, Collingwood, in the peace of that distant Northumberland home, had been elated by a vision which contained for him a strange element of great promise. In his sleep he had seen with extraordinary vividness the English Fleet in battle array; the details of their position were clear to him, and, later, he beheld an engagement in progress the incidents of which were extraordinarily realistic. Finally, the glory of a great victory came upon him, to fill his waking moments with delight and haunt his recollection. So minute, so circ.u.mstantial had been the particulars of the dream, that, profoundly impressed at the time, he had related them in full detail to his wife. In much imaginative, Collingwood was not without the vein of superst.i.tion which seems inseparable from his profession, and he had the simple faith of a child. He believed in the ultimate fulfilment of that vision and the thought pursued him.

Meanwhile, his letter to Stanhope of September 23rd, reached its destination at a moment of increased national suspense. Napoleon's elaborately planned ruse to entice Nelson to the West Indies had succeeded only too well. And while Nelson sought his decoy Villeneuve off Barbadoes, the French Admiral, as pre-arranged, was hastening back to effect, in the absence of his dupe, the release of the French Fleet blockaded by Cornwallis. But luck and wit saved England. Nelson chanced upon a ship which had seen the returning enemy; he succeeded in warning the Admiralty in time; Villeneuve, intercepted by Calder, suffered an ignominious defeat, and Napoleon consummated his own disaster by the tactlessness of his wrath against his unfortunate admiral who had thus succ.u.mbed to a force inferior in numbers. Villeneuve, stung by the bitter taunt of cowardice, rashly left Cadiz to fight Nelson--a manoeuvre which, at best, could little advance the cause of the Emperor, which, as the event proved, courted a catastrophe out of all proportion to any possible gain, and which was undertaken by the luckless Frenchman for no other end save that of disproving the imputation of cowardice under which he smarted.

Whether in the placing of the ships at the Battle of Trafalgar that vision of Collingwood played any part, history will never know--whether it must be regarded by the curious as in itself prophetic, or merely as a chance occurrence, the suggestion of which was by chance adopted. Yet it is obvious that the relation between this remarkable dream and its fulfilment can scarcely be viewed merely as an interesting coincidence. The inference is too strong that in any consultation between Collingwood and Nelson with regard to the order of battle the recollection of the scheme of attack which had so impressed the former must--even if unconsciously--have coloured the advice given by him to Nelson. Moreover such reflections give rise to a further curious speculation. To Nelson posterity is wont to ascribe the entire merit of the order of battle on that memorable day; he, it is held, was the active genius who conceived the plan of action, Collingwood was the acquiescer, a pa.s.sive though able coadjutor. Yet Collingwood himself, the most modest of men and the least likely to make an erroneous statement with regard to such a question of fact, expressly a.s.serts the contrary. "In this affair," he says, "Nelson did nothing without my counsel, _we made our line of battle together_ and concerted the attack." [4] On this point he also insists, in writing to Stanhope, to whom, as to his wife, he incidentally recalled the circ.u.mstances of his having foreseen the battle in a dream at Morpeth the week before the war broke out.

Throughout this period, in England, news was awaited with increasing anxiety. On October 31st, Mrs Stanhope wrote to her son John:--

The Papers are now quite alarming. I fear it is up with the Austrians for the Russians cannot now join them. This horrid Bonaparte is a scourge to the whole world. It is wonderful with what enthusiasm he seems to inspire his men. They go where he likes and accomplish all his plans.

Your father has written again to Admiral Collingwood to inform him that if he does not return home, which, as he has changed his flag from the Dreadnought, is not very probable, that he will send William to him in the spring. Admiral Roddam, tho' he prefers a frigate, approves of his going with Admiral C. as he is both a good man & an excellent sailor, & will scrupulously perform that which he promises to undertake.

_Nov. 2nd, 1805._

Not only Glyn, but all of us must shake with the horrid German intelligence. I have little faith in the hope the papers hold out that we may yet hear of a victory gained by the united Armies of Russia and Austria--a few days must relieve us from our present state of uncertainty--though I fear not of anxiety. How thankful I am that I have no near connection going on the cruel expedition at this time.

A few days, and the great news came, with its conflicting elements of glory and of grief.

_Walter Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope._

My Dear John,

It is impossible to begin on this day any letter to any person without most joyfully and most thankfully celebrating the glorious victory of Lord Nelson. I cannot say that my triumph is so much alloyed as that of many others seems to be and yet I trust I have as grateful a mind and as high an admiration for Military renown as another man. No, it is that I think that Nelson's glorious death is more to be envied than lamented, and that to die wept by the land we perished for is what he himself would have wished.

Would to G.o.d my little William had been on board Collingwood's ship on that glorious day, whatever might have been the risque!

_The Same to the Vicar of Newcastle._

Although the death of Nelson is in my judgment more to be envied than lamented, yet England secured by the loss of his life ought to feel, bewail & reward it as far as posthumous honours and benefits to his family and general Regret can do it. The late Victory affords peculiar satisfaction to me from the brilliant Part that Admiral Collingwood has had in it & the exquisitely good account he has given of it in his Dispatches.

_Mrs Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope._ CANNON HALL, _November 9th, 1805._

Your father said he should write you a long letter this morning.... No longer have we cause to talk and grieve about the Austrians, we may now talk and rejoice at our glorious, and at the moment, unexpected victory. What a day it was! but in the midst of our rejoicings we must pause to shed a tear over the Hero who fell, though as every Hero must wish to fall. Admiral Collingwood's dispatches do him honour, he at all times writes well and this was a subject to draw out all his powers and show the Feeling and Goodness of his Heart. Your father wishes William had been with him. I am satisfied as it is!

_The Same._ _November 14th, 1805._

Your letter my dear John, arrived on Sunday, after mine was sealed, and as the carriage was at the door to take us to church, I had not time to open it, to add my thanks for your letter of Congratulations on our great and glorious Victory. What has followed since, at any other time would have been considered great, at all times must be thought gallant.

Yesterday letters from Barnsley, reporting the capture of the Rochefort Squadron, were so firmly believed that the Bells were ringing.

The tears of the Nation must be shed over the brave Nelson, but his death was that of a Hero, and such he truly was. The Dispatches do Admiral Collingwood great honor, and his bravery is already rewarded with a peerage. I had a letter from his wife to-day, who says he wrote in the greatest grief for his friend. She had not heard since the Dispatches were sent, when the Fleet was in a miserable state, she, of course, under great anxiety. The Euryalus has, I hope, brought further accounts. Probably the funeral of Lord Nelson will be Publick--what a thrilling sight it will be. Surely some mark of honour will be bestowed upon his Widow. At present his Brother's wife has place of her, and she has not been mentioned.

_Marianne Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope._

I have made a vow not to name Lord Nelson or the Victory or Victories in any of my letters, but postscripts are excluded. Every letter Mamma has had has been full of nothing else; if care is not taken, it will be like the invasion, a constant topick when you have nothing to say.