Upon his own subordinates Nelson laid a distinct charge, that he should expect them to use their judgment and act upon it with independence, sure of his generous construction and support of their action. “We must all in our several stations,” he tells one of them, “exert ourselves to the utmost, and not be nonsensical in saying, ’I have an order for this, that, and the other,’ if the King’s service clearly marks what ought to be done. I am well convinced of your zeal.” In accordance with this, he was emphatic in his expressions of commendation for action rightly taken; a bare, cold approval was not adequate reward for deeds which he expected to reproduce his own spirit and temper, vivifying the whole of his command, and making his presence virtually co-extensive with its utmost limits. No severer condemnation, perhaps, was ever implied by him, than when he wrote to Sidney Smith, unqualifiedly, “I strictly charge and command you never to give any French ship or man leave to quit Egypt.” To deny an officer discretion was as scathing an expression of dissatisfaction as Nelson could utter; and as he sowed, so he reaped, in a devotion and vigor of service few have elicited equally.
In Malta Nelson remained but thirty-six hours. Arriving at 4 P.M. on the evening of June 15th, he sailed again at 4 A.M. of the 17th. He had expected partly to find the fleet there; but by an odd coincidence, on the same day that he hoisted his flag in Portsmouth, it had sailed, although in ignorance of the war, to cruise between Sicily and Naples; whence, on the day he left Gibraltar, the commanding officer, Sir Richard Bickerton, had started for Toulon,—“very judiciously,” said Nelson,—the instant he heard of the renewal of hostilities.
The “Amphion” passed through the Straits of Messina, and within sight of Naples, carrying Nelson once more over well-known seas, and in sight of fondly remembered places. “I am looking at dear Naples, if it is what it was,” he wrote to Elliot from off Capri. “Close to Capri,” he tells Lady Hamilton, “the view of Vesuvius calls so many circumstances to my mind, that it almost overpowers my feelings.” “I am using force upon myself to keep away,” he had already said to Acton; “for I think it likely, was I to fly to Naples, which I am much inclined to do, that the French might turn it to some plea against those good sovereigns.” In his anxiety to join the fleet, and get in touch of the French, the length of the passage, three weeks, caused him great vexation, and deepened his convictions of the uselessness of the island to his squadron off Toulon. “My opinion of Malta, as a naval station for watching the French in Toulon, is well known; and my present experience of what will be a three weeks’ passage, most fully confirms me in it. The fleet can never go there, if I can find any other corner to put them in; but having said this, I now declare, that I consider Malta as a most important outwork to India, that it will ever give us great influence in the Levant, and indeed all the southern parts of Italy. In this view, I hope we shall never give it up.” “Malta and Toulon are entirely different services. It takes upon an average seven weeks to get an answer to a letter. When I am forced to send a ship there, I never see her under two months.”