Enough reached his ears to draw forth unqualified expressions of dissent from the plans proposed, and equally clear statements as to what should be done,—­all stamped unmistakably with the “Nelson touch,” to use an apt phrase of his own.  “Reports say,” he tells Lady Hamilton, “we are to anchor before we get to Cronenburg Castle, that our minister at Copenhagen may negotiate.  What nonsense!  How much better could we negotiate was our fleet off Copenhagen, and the Danish minister would seriously reflect how he brought the fire of England on his Master’s fleet and capital; but to keep us out of sight is to seduce Denmark into a war....  If they are the plans of Ministers, they are weak in the extreme, and very different to what I understood from Mr. Pitt.[25] If they originate with Sir Hyde, it makes him, in my mind, as—­but never mind, your Nelson’s plans are bold and decisive—­all on the great scale.  I hate your pen and ink men; a fleet of British ships of war are the best negotiators in Europe.”  While the greatness and decision of his character remain unimpaired, perhaps even heightened, it will be noticed that self-reliance, never in any man more justified, has tended to degenerate into boastfulness, and restlessness under displeasing orders to become suspicion of the motives prompting them.  “They all hate me and treat me ill,” he says, speaking of Spencer’s and St. Vincent’s administrations.  “I cannot, my dear friend, recall to mind any one real act of kindness, but all of unkindness.”  It must, of course, be remembered that, while such expressions portray faithfully the working of the inner spirit, and serve, by contrast, to measure the Nelson of 1801 against the Nelson of 1796, they were addressed to the most intimate of friends, and do not necessarily imply a corresponding bearing before the eyes of the world.

An amusing story is told of a shrewd stratagem resorted to by Nelson, on the passage to the Baltic, to thaw the barrier of frigidity in his superior, which not only was unpleasant to him personally, as well as injurious to the interests of the state, but threatened also to prevent his due share in the planning and execution of the enterprise in hand, thus diminishing the glory he ever coveted.  The narrator, Lieutenant Layman, was serving on board the “St. George,” and happened to mention, in Nelson’s presence, that some years before he had seen caught a very fine turbot on the Dogger Bank, over which the fleet must pass on its way.

“This being a mere casual remark, nothing more would have been thought of it, had not Nelson, after showing great anxiety in his inquiries when they should be on the Dogger Bank, significantly said to Mr. Layman, ‘Do you think we could catch a turbot?’ After a try or two, a small turbot was caught.  Lord Nelson appeared delighted, and called out, ‘Send it to Sir Hyde.’  Something being said about the risk of sending a boat, from the great sea, lowering weather, and its being dark, his Lordship said with