which I cannot approve.  They at home do not know what this fleet is capable of performing; anything, and everything.  Much as I shall rejoice to see England, I lament our present orders in sackcloth and ashes, so dishonourable to the dignity of England.”  To the British minister at Naples his words were even stronger:  “Till this time it has been usual for the allies of England to fall from her, but till now she never was known to desert her friends whilst she had the power of supporting them.  I yet hope the Cabinet may, on more information, change their opinion; it is not all we gain elsewhere which can compensate for our loss of honour.  The whole face of affairs is totally different to what it was when the Cabinet formed their opinion.”

Nevertheless, although Nelson’s perceptions and reasoning were accurate as far as they went, they erred in leaving out of the calculation a most important consideration,—­the maintenance of the communications with England, which had assumed vital importance since the general defection of the Italian States, caused by Bonaparte’s successes and his imperious demands.  It would be more true to say that he underestimated this factor than that he overlooked it; for he had himself observed, six weeks earlier, when the approach of a Spanish war first became certain:  “I really think they would do us more damage by getting off Cape Finisterre;[40] it is there I fear them,” and the reason for that fear is shown by his reproach against Man, already quoted, for his neglect of the convoy.  The position of the Spanish Navy in its home ports was in fact intermediate—­interior—­as regarded the British fleet and the source of its most essential supplies.  So long as its future direction remained uncertain, it lay upon the flank of the principal British line of communications.  Nelson did not use, perhaps did not know, the now familiar terms of the military art; and, with all his insight and comprehensive sagacity, he suffered from the want of proper tools with which to transmute his acute intuitions into precise thought, as well as of clearly enunciated principles, which serve to guide a man’s conclusions, and would assuredly have qualified his in the present instance.  Upon the supposition that the Spanish Navy, practically in its entirety, entered the Mediterranean and appeared off Corsica,—­as it did,—­Nelson’s reasoning was correct, and his chagrin at a retreat justified; but, as he himself had wisely remarked to Beaulieu, it is not safe to count upon your enemy pursuing the course you wish.  Had the Spanish Government chosen the other alternative open to it, and struck at the communications, such a blow, or even such a threat, must have compelled the withdrawal of the fleet, unless some other base of supplies could be found.  The straitness of the situation is shown by the fact that Jervis, after he had held on to the last moment in San Fiorenzo Bay, sailed for Gibraltar with such scanty provisions that the crews’ daily rations were reduced to one-third the ordinary amount; in fact, as early as the first of October they had been cut down to two-thirds.  Whether, therefore, the Government was right in ordering the withdrawal, or Nelson in his condemnation of it, may be left to the decision of those fortunate persons who can be cocksure of the true solution of other people’s perplexities.