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 Bronté, 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.
The Prime Minister took a week to reply. When he did, he deprecated the sending of any letter to the Mayor, for reasons, he said, "not merely of a public nature, but connected with the interest I shall ever take in your well-earned fame." These reasons, he added, he would be ready to give him in a private interview. Nelson had asked his opinion upon the terms of the letter; but, impatient after waiting three days, had already sent it in when this answer came. It seems probable that, with his usual promptness, he called at once; for on the same day, November 28, that he received Addington's letter he withdrew that to the Mayor.[52] "By the advice of a friend," he said, "I have now to request that your Lordship will consider my letter as withdrawn, as the discussion of the question may bring forward characters which had better rest quiet."[53] There seems, therefore, little reason to doubt that the honors, due to those who fought, were withheld out of consideration to those who did not fight. Nelson himself recognized the difficulty. "They are not Sir Hyde Parker's real friends who wish for an inquiry," he had written confidentially to Davison before leaving the Baltic. "His friends in the fleet wish everything of this fleet to be forgot, for we all respect and love Sir Hyde; but the dearer his friends, the more uneasy they have been at his idleness, for that is the truth—no criminality." But, as he vigorously and characteristically said of another matter occurring about this time, "I was told the difficulties were insurmountable. My answer was, 'As the thing is necessary to be done, the more difficulties, the more necessary to try to remove them.'"
As regards the soundness of Nelson's grounds, and the propriety of his action in this matter, it must, first, be kept in mind, that, before the City voted its thanks to the Navy engaged in Egypt, he had spoken in the House of Lords in favor of the thanks of the Government to the same force, although, as a whole, it had there played a subordinate part; and also, that, although deprived of the medal which he hoped to get in common with others, he had himself been rewarded for Copenhagen by promotion in the peerage.[54] This separation between himself and the mass of those who fought under him, necessarily intensified the feeling of one always profusely generous, in praise as in money; but his point otherwise was well taken. The task was ungracious and unpleasant, it may almost be called dirty work to have thus to solicit honors and distinction for deeds in which one has borne the principal part; but dirty work must at times be done, with hands or words, and the humiliation then rests, not with him who does it, but with them who make it necessary. Had the victors at Copenhagen fought a desperate fight, and were they neglected? If so, and the outside world looked indifferently on, who from among them should first come forth to defend their glory from implication of some undefined stain, if not their Commander-in-Chief, one whose great renown could well spare the additional ray of lustre which he demanded for them. Whether underneath lay some spot of self-seeking, of the secondary motive from which so few of us are free, matters little or nothing. The thing was right to be done, and he did it. If the Government and the City of London, by calculated omission, proclaimed, as they did, that these men had not deserved well of their country, it became him to say, as he did, openly to the City, subordinately to his superiors, that they had done men's work and deserved men's reward.