He remained in London till near Christmas.  Sir Gilbert Elliot, the late Viceroy of Corsica, who about this time became Lord Minto, saw him not long after his arrival there, as did also Colonel Drinkwater.  Elliot found him looking better and fresher than he ever remembered him, although the continued pain prevented sleep, except by use of opium.  He was already impatient to go to sea again, and chafed under the delay of healing, concerning the duration of which the surgeons could give him no assurance.  The ligature must be left to slough away, for it was two inches up the wound, and if, in attempting to cut it, the artery should be cut, another amputation would be necessary higher up, which would not be easy, for the stump was already very short.  There was consequently nothing for it but endurance.  To his suffering at this time an accomplished surgeon, who sailed with him shortly before Trafalgar, attributed a neuralgic predisposition under which he then labored, and which produced serious effects upon his general health.

A singular exhibition of his characteristic animation and temperament was elicited by Drinkwater’s visit.  The colonel saw him shortly before the naval battle of Camperdown, fought on the 11th of October.  “One of the first questions which Nelson put to me was whether I had been at the Admiralty.  I told him there was a rumour that the British fleet had been seen engaged with that of Holland.  He started up in his peculiar energetic manner, notwithstanding Lady Nelson’s attempts to quiet him, and stretching out his unwounded arm,—­’Drinkwater, said he, ’I would give this other arm to be with Duncan[59] at this moment;’ so unconquerable was the spirit of the man, and so intense his eagerness to give every instant of his life to the service.”

Until the 4th of December his agony continued.  On that day the ligature came away, giving instant and entire relief.  In a letter to a friend, apologizing for delay in replying, he said:  “Truly, till last Monday, I have suffered so much, I hope for your forgiveness.  I am now perfectly recovered, and on the eve of being employed.”  On Friday, the 8th, he wrote to Captain Berry, who had led the boarders to the “San Nicolas” at Cape St. Vincent, and was designated to command the ship in which the admiral’s flag should next be hoisted, saying that he was well; and the same day, with that profound recognition of a personal Providence which was with him as instinctive as his courage, he sent to a London clergyman the following request:  “An officer desires to return thanks to Almighty God for his perfect recovery from a severe wound, and also for the many mercies bestowed upon him. (For next Sunday.)”