the interests and policy of his own government, without
entailing upon it serious cause of future reclamations
and disputes.[34] Hotham’s very indifference
and lethargy, while crippling his enterprise, increased
his independence. “I cannot get Hotham on
the coast,” he said, “for he hates this
co-operation;” but he owns to the fear that
the admiral, if he came, might overrule his projects.
The necessity for exertion delighted him. “My
command here is so far pleasant,” he wrote to
his friend Collingwood, “as it relieves me from
the inactivity of our fleet, which is great indeed,
as you will soon see.” “At present,”
he tells his wife, “I do not write less than
from ten to twenty letters every day; which, with
the Austrian general, and aide-de-camps, and my own
little squadron, fully employ my time: this I
like; active service or none.” As usual,
when given room for the exercise of his powers, he
was, for him, well. He had a severe attack of
illness very soon after assuming the duty—“a
complaint in the breast”—the precursor
perhaps of the similar trouble from which he suffered
so much in later years; but it wore off after an acute
attack of a fortnight, and he wrote later that, except
being at home, he knew no country so pleasant to serve
in, nor where his health was so good. This well-grounded
preference for the Mediterranean, as best suited to
his naturally frail constitution, remained with him
to the end.
Besides his official correspondence, he wrote freely
and fully to those at home, unburdening to them the
thoughts, cares, and disappointments of his career,
as well as the commendations he received, so dear
to himself as well as to them. Mrs. Nelson and
his father lived together, and to her most of his
home letters were addressed. “I have been
very negligent,” he admits to her, “in
writing to my father, but I rest assured he knows
I would have done it long ago, had you not been under
the same roof.... Pray draw on me,” he
continues, “for L200, my father and myself can
settle our accounts when we meet; at present, I believe
I am the richer man, therefore I desire you will give
my dear father that money.” One wonders
whether, in the slightly peremptory tone of the last
sentence, is to be seen a trace of the feeling she
is said, by one biographer, to have shown, that he
was too liberal to his relatives; an indication of
that lack of sympathy, which, manifested towards other
traits of his, no less marked than openhandedness,
struck a jarring note within him, and possibly paved
the way to an indifference which ended so unfortunately
for both. An absent husband, however, very possibly
failed to realize what his extreme generosity might
mean, to one who had to meet household expenses with
narrow means.