The Prince of Wales had dined with and paid suspicious attentions to Emma, and her fond lover, knowing this, advised her to warn him off.  He probably had an instinct that his “beloved Emma,” who is “the dearest object of his fond heart,” was not quite strong enough to resist temptation.  Especially would she be likely to fall under the fascinating influence of this little princely scamp.  Nelson’s mind turned to his wife, and he emphasized the desire that he might never see his aversion again.  Nor did he.

Some of his contemporaries doubted the paternity of Horatia; Nelson never did, and it would be hard to find a more beautiful outpouring of love than that which he unfailingly gave to his little daughter.  Every thought of his soul was divided between her and the audacious flirt of a mother whom Nelson, always lavish, calls “his love”; “his darling angel”; “his heaven-given wife”; “the dearest, only true wife of his own till death.”  The “till death” finish is quite sailorly!

No one will doubt his amazing faculty for love-making and love-writing, and it must always be a puzzle how he managed to mix it so successfully with war.  His guilty love-making was an occasional embarrassment to him, and though he was the greatest naval tactician of his time, his domestic methods were hopelessly clumsy and transparent.  For instance, in pouring out his grievances to his mistress he refers to himself by the name of Thompson, and to Lady Nelson as Aunt.  Here are a few examples:—­“Thompson desires me to say he has never wrote his Aunt since he sailed.”  “In twelve hours we shall be across the water, and freed from all the nonsense of his friends, or rather, pretended ones.”  “His” means Hamilton, and “friends” means the Prince of Wales, whom he looked upon as a rival for Emma’s accommodating affections.  Again, he says, “If I separated from her, which I would do with pleasure the moment we can be united.”  “Her” is Lady Nelson, but in discussing delicate matters of domestic policy he thinks it desirable to conceal that he would not weep were he to hear of Sir William’s death, or be broken with grief to separate entirely from Lady Nelson, so that he might become “united to his heaven-given wife,” “our darling angel, Emma.”

V

The Admiralty did a great injustice to the victor of the Nile by appointing Sir Hyde Parker commander-in-chief, instead of one who was known to be the most brilliant officer in the Navy.  It must have cut deeply into Nelson’s proud soul to have to serve under a man who had not a particle of initiative; and, but for the splendid bravery and matchless talents of his second, the wooden walls of old England would have been sent to Davy Jones by the forts of Copenhagen and the Danish fleet.  Sir Hyde did not relish having Nelson with him at all.  He sulked, and treated him in a way that was observed and resented by those who served under him.  The commander-in-chief