In another respect the appointment to the “Lowestoffe” was fortunate for Nelson.  The ship was destined to the West Indies—­or, to speak more precisely, to Jamaica, which was a command distinct from that of the eastern Caribbean, or Lesser Antilles, officially styled the Leeward Islands Station.  Great Britain was then fully embarked in the war with her North American colonies, which ended in their independence; and the course of events was hastening her to the rupture with France and Spain that followed within a year.  In this protracted contest the chief scene of naval hostilities was to be the West Indies; but beyond even the casualties of war, the baneful climate of that region insured numerous vacancies by prostration and death, with consequent chances of promotion for those who escaped the fevers, and found favor in the eyes of their commander-in-chief.  The brutal levity of the old toast, “A bloody war and a sickly season,” nowhere found surer fulfilment than on those pestilence-stricken coasts.  Captain Locker’s health soon gave way.  Arriving at Jamaica on the 19th of July, 1777, we find Nelson in the following month writing to him from the ship during an absence produced by a serious illness, from which fatal results were feared.  The letter, like all those to Locker, was marked by that tone of quick, eager sympathy, of genial inclination always to say the kindest thing, that characterized his correspondence, and, generally, his intercourse with others,—­traits that through life made him, beyond most men, acceptable and beloved.  He was, from first to last, not merely one of those whose services are forced upon others by sheer weight of ability, because indispensable,—­though this, too, he was,—­but men wanted him because, although at times irritable, especially after the wounds received in later years, he was an easy yoke-fellow, pleasant to deal with, cordial and ready to support those above him, a tolerant and appreciative master to subordinates.  It may even be said that, in matters indifferent to him, he too readily reflected the feelings, views, and wishes of those about him; but when they clashed with his own fixed convictions, he was immovable.  As he himself said in such a case, “I feel I am perfectly right, and you know upon those occasions I am not famous for giving up a point.”

Of his connection with the “Lowestoffe” he himself, in the short autobiographical sketch before quoted, mentions two circumstances, which, from the very fact of their remaining so long in his memory, illustrate temperament.  “Even a frigate,” he says, “was not sufficiently active for my mind, and I got into a schooner, tender to the Lowestoffe.  In this vessel I made myself a complete pilot for all the passages through the [Keys] Islands situated on the north side Hispaniola.”  This kind of service, it will be noted, was in direct sequence, as to training, to his handling of the “Triumph’s” long-boat in the lower waters of the Thames, and would