While thoughtful and considerate, even to gentleness, for the weak and dependent, the singular energy that quickened Nelson’s frail and puny frame showed itself on occasion in instant resentment of any official slight to himself or his ship, or injury to the interests of the country. During the “Boreas’s” stay at Madeira, the British Consul neglected to return his visit, on the plea that the Government allowed him no boat. Nelson declined any further intercourse with him. While lying in the Downs, he learns that sixteen British seamen are detained by force on board a Dutch Indiaman. He requires their delivery to him; and when their effects were withheld, on the alleged ground of their being in debt to the ship, he stops all intercourse between it and the shore, sending an armed cutter to enforce his order. “The Admiralty,” he wrote, “have fortunately approved my conduct in the business,” and added grimly, “a thing they are not very guilty of where there is a likelihood of a scrape.” When entering the harbor of Fort Royal, Martinique, the principal French island in the Lesser Antilles, the officer at the citadel neglected to hoist the colors, a ceremonial observance customary when a ship of war approached. Nelson at once demanded an explanation and received ample amends; the offending party being placed under arrest. To the governor of some of the British West India islands, he wrote making suggestions for the better discharge of certain duties, in which both of them were interested. He received, it is said, a testy message that “old generals were not in the habit of taking advice from young gentlemen.” “I have the honour, Sir,” replied Nelson, “of being as old as the prime minister of England, and think myself as capable of commanding one of his majesty’s ships as that minister is of governing the state;” and throughout he held to the stand he had taken.