At Lagos, Rear-Admiral Campbell of the Portuguese Navy, who had served with the British in the Mediterranean six years before, visited the “Victory,” and certain intelligence that Villeneuve was gone to the West Indies was by him given to Nelson.  The latter had now all the confirmation needed, by such an one as he, to decide upon his line of action.  “My lot is cast, my dear Ball, and I am going to the West Indies, where, although I am late, yet chance may have given them a bad passage, and me a good one:  I must hope the best.”  “Disappointment has worn me to a skeleton,” he writes to his late junior in the Mediterranean, Campbell, “and I am in good truth, very, very far from well.”  “If I had not been in pursuit of the enemy’s fleet, I should have been at this moment in England, but my health, or even my life, must not come into consideration at this important crisis; for, however I may be called unfortunate, it never shall be said that I have been neglectful of my duty, or spared myself.”  “It will not be supposed I am on a party of pleasure,” he wrote to the Secretary of the Admiralty, “running after eighteen sail of the line with ten, and that to the West Indies;” but, he summed up his feelings to Davison, “Salt beef and the French fleet, is far preferable to roast beef and champagne without them.”

On the 10th of May only was his purpose finally and absolutely formed, for on that day he sent a sloop to Barbadoes, his intended point of arrival, to announce his coming; requesting that an embargo might be laid at once on all vessels in port, to prevent the news reaching the enemy at Martinique or elsewhere.  In the morning of the 11th the fleet weighed, and at 4 P.M. the expedition from England arrived.  It was accompanied by two ships-of-the-line, to which Nelson joined a third, the “Royal Sovereign,” which sailed so badly, from the state of her bottom, that she would retard a movement already too long delayed.  At seven that evening the fleet was under full sail for the West Indies.

The voyage across was uneventful; the ships, as customary for this passage, stood to the southward and westward into the trade winds, under whose steady impulse they advanced at a daily average speed of one hundred and thirty-five miles, or between five and six miles an hour.  This rate, however, was a mean between considerable extremes,—­a rate of nine miles being at times attained.  The slackest winds, which brought down the average, are found before reaching the trades, and Nelson utilized this period to transmit to the fleet his general plan for action, in case he found the allies at sea.  The manner in which this was conveyed to the individual ships is an interesting incident.  The speed of the fleet is necessarily that of its slowest member; the faster ships, therefore, have continually a reserve, which they may at any moment bring into play.  The orders being prepared, a frigate captain was called on board the “Victory” and received them.  Returning to his own vessel, he made all sail until on the bow[99] of one of the ships-of-the-line.  Deadening the way of the frigate, a boat was dropped in the water and had only to pull alongside the other vessel as it came up.  The frigate remained slowed until passed, and the boat, having delivered its letter, came easily alongside again,—­the whole operation being thus conducted with the least expenditure of time and exertion.[100]