Chapter II (1)

1805-1810

LETTERS OF AN EXILE

To a man far distant from the memorable scene of Lord Melville's trial, the news of the verdict, sent by Mrs Stanhope, must have caused peculiar satisfaction.

Among her numerous correspondents at this date, probably few had been more frequently in her thoughts during the past two years than her kinsman, Cuthbert Collingwood. From her earliest days, indeed, he had occupied a certain prominence in her horizon. Her mother, Winifred Collingwood, had belonged to another branch of the Northumberland family which owned a common ancestor with that of the afterwards famous Admiral, [1] and this tie had been strengthened rather than diminished throughout the passing of generations by the propinquity of the two branches.

In the commencement of his naval career, Cuthbert Collingwood, on board the _Lennox_, had attracted the hearty approbation of Mrs Stanhope's other relation, Admiral Roddam, [2] the grand old veteran who had been in the service about thirty-seven years before his young neighbour from Northumberland had become his midshipman. In 1787 he won as warm an appreciation from her husband when he stayed at Cannon Hall and first made the acquaintance of Walter Stanhope, who then formed for him a lifelong friendship. During the all-too-brief period when Collingwood was on shore, there occur entries in Stanhope's Journal recording many a quiet rubber of whist played with the man whose harsh fate was to render such moments of happy social intercourse a precious recollection through long, lonely years. Returned to his post, Captain Collingwood's thoughts clung to that family circle he had left-to the man who basked in the happiness of a home life from which he, personally, was debarred. Year by year Collingwood kept his kinsman Stanhope in touch with all his movements. Year by year, Stanhope and his wife responded, supplying the absent seaman with news of the chief events which were happening in the political world at home. And the letters from Collingwood, with their stern grip of a strenuous life, with their deep underlying tragedy of a profound loneliness, afford a curious contrast to the shallow utterances of other correspondents. Over the intervening miles of ocean, from that isolated soul on guard, they reached the family in Grosvenor Square, bearing, so it seemed, something of the freshness and the force of the wind-rocked brine which they had traversed. Into that restless routine of London life, they carried the echo of a distant clash of arms, the mutterings of a brooding storm. They told how the sea-dogs upon the alert were playing a desperate game of tactics with their country's foe, the outcome of which none could foretell and the chances of which few dared to contemplate. And in the minds of those to whom they were addressed they awoke an answering apprehension, which entered into the heart of their home-life, for one of that circle, little William Stanhope, was shortly to join his great kinsman at sea and to play his small part in the fierce ocean drama which was going forward.

_Captain Collingwood to Walter Spencer-Stanhope_.
_"Dreadnought" off_ CADIZ, _July 10th, 1805._

I shall have great pleasure in taking your young sailor into my care,
whenever you chuse he should come--and you may assure yourself that I
will be as regardful of everything that relates to him as you yourself
could be. Considering how uncertain my situation is or where I may be
at any particular period, had I known your intention in March, I
should have recommended that he embarked then, and made his first
essay in a warm country and far from home....

When I sailed from England I had under my command a fine fleet, but
the change of circumstances since that has both altered my destination
and reduced my force. I am now blocking up the ports here. On my
arrival I found the Spaniards on the point of sailing, waiting only
for the Carthagena Squadron to join them, and _they_ were actually at
sea, in their way down, but recalled by a dispatch boat on our
appearance off the coast. We never know whether we go too fast or too
slow--had I been a few days later, we should probably have met them at
sea with their ten sail, and made a good day of it.

And he proceeds to append a comment on the news of Lord Melville's impeachment which had just reached him from Mrs Stanhope.

Oh! how I lament the fall of Lord Melville! But I never can consent to
rank him amongst the herd of peculators who prey upon the publick. He
has been negligent in the economy and management of his office--he has
paid too little attention to the management of his own money affairs.
Had he been avaricious and greedy of wealth how many years has he been
in official situations wherein he might have enriched himself--and is
yet as poor as poverty, for I have it from good authority that his
patent of Nobility was several months in office before he could raise
£2000 to pay the fees of it, and Melville Castle must have been sold
if his son had not taken it.

Then the virulence with which he has been pursued from all quarters--
not merely submitting his case to the calm deliberations of
Parliament, or the lawful decisions of Courts of Justice, but made a
subject for Pot house discussion, where the snobby meetings of half-
drunk mechanicks have been convened to pass judgment on a man whose
whole life has been devoted to his country's service, and whose
conduct has been unimpeached till now. It is disgraceful to the
justice of the country, for it matters little what may be the decision
of a Court hereafter, when a man is already condemned in the publick
opinion. Those to whom Lord Melville was before indifferent and those
who blame the negligence of his office, have acquired a sort of
respect for his misfortunes, in being the object of such a factious
hue & cry.

I was very sorry to hear Mr Collingwood [3] had been so indifferent in
his health last spring, but I hope the warm weather will be of service
to him--the last I heard from his home he was better, I beg my best
and kindest regards to Mrs Stanhope & all your family and wishing you
& them health and every possible happiness.

I am, dear Sir,
Your faithful & most humble servant,
CUTHBERT COLLINGWOOD.

_The Same._
_Sept 23rd._

It is a long time since I have heard from England.... I have here a
very laborious and a very anxious time. You will have heard from my
wife, perhaps the narrow escape I have had from being cut off by the
combined fleet. At that time I had only three ships with me and a
frigate--they had 36 sail, and had they managed their affairs with the
least ingenuity, I should have found it a very difficult thing to have
fought my way through them, but we made good use of their want of
skill and after seeing them safe into Port, we continued on our
Station to blockade the town and prevent all commerce.

I hope the Admiralty will give me credit for maintaining my station in
the neighbourhood of so powerfull a fleet, for I never quitted them
for a day, though I had but four ships; but now that I am reinforced
by the squadron under Sir R. Calder, I have a fine fleet of 26 ships
of line and some small frigates; and hope every good--and with God's
blessing with me will do a good day's work for my country, whenever
they give me an opportunity. That done, I shall be glad to retire to
my home & enjoy the comforts of my family, for my strength fails, and
the mind being on the full stretch, sinks and needs relief.

I have a gentleman from Newcastle for my Captain, but he is a man of
no talent as a sea-officer and of little assistance to me.

How glad I shall be to get to my garden again at Morpeth and quitting
the foe, see for the rest of my life only friends about me.

Ever through the thunder of cannon or the stress of a watch which ceased neither day nor night, through the threatenings of death or the allurements of fame, one thought was paramount in Collingwood's mind. A yearning for a peaceful garden he had left behind--to him a veritable garden of Paradise--for the innocent prattle of his children, the sweet companionship of his wife. A dream of reunion tormented and sustained him. "Whenever I think how I am to be happy again my thoughts carry me back to Morpeth," he wrote. Incapable of a dramatic appeal to sympathy, his letters to Stanhope, in their strong self-repression, breathe a longing the more profound. For that Paradise of his dreams Collingwood would have joyfully bartered fame, emolument, all that the world could offer, had not duty claimed from him a prolonged sacrifice of all which he held dear. Whether, if he could have looked on through the few remaining years of his life and have foreseen the end of that longing and those dreams, his weary spirit could still have borne the burden laid upon it, none may say. But buoyed up by that ever-present hope he faced the strain of his eternal watching with an unflinching courage, which may have been occasionally strengthened by a recollection which visited him, and the remarkable circumstances of which cannot be ignored.

For the week before the war had broken out, Collingwood, in the peace of that distant Northumberland home, had been elated by a vision which contained for him a strange element of great promise. In his sleep he had seen with extraordinary vividness the English Fleet in battle array; the details of their position were clear to him, and, later, he beheld an engagement in progress the incidents of which were extraordinarily realistic. Finally, the glory of a great victory came upon him, to fill his waking moments with delight and haunt his recollection. So minute, so circumstantial had been the particulars of the dream, that, profoundly impressed at the time, he had related them in full detail to his wife. In much imaginative, Collingwood was not without the vein of superstition which seems inseparable from his profession, and he had the simple faith of a child. He believed in the ultimate fulfilment of that vision and the thought pursued him.

Meanwhile, his letter to Stanhope of September 23rd, reached its destination at a moment of increased national suspense. Napoleon's elaborately planned ruse to entice Nelson to the West Indies had succeeded only too well. And while Nelson sought his decoy Villeneuve off Barbadoes, the French Admiral, as pre-arranged, was hastening back to effect, in the absence of his dupe, the release of the French Fleet blockaded by Cornwallis. But luck and wit saved England. Nelson chanced upon a ship which had seen the returning enemy; he succeeded in warning the Admiralty in time; Villeneuve, intercepted by Calder, suffered an ignominious defeat, and Napoleon consummated his own disaster by the tactlessness of his wrath against his unfortunate admiral who had thus succumbed to a force inferior in numbers. Villeneuve, stung by the bitter taunt of cowardice, rashly left Cadiz to fight Nelson--a manoeuvre which, at best, could little advance the cause of the Emperor, which, as the event proved, courted a catastrophe out of all proportion to any possible gain, and which was undertaken by the luckless Frenchman for no other end save that of disproving the imputation of cowardice under which he smarted.

Whether in the placing of the ships at the Battle of Trafalgar that vision of Collingwood played any part, history will never know--whether it must be regarded by the curious as in itself prophetic, or merely as a chance occurrence, the suggestion of which was by chance adopted. Yet it is obvious that the relation between this remarkable dream and its fulfilment can scarcely be viewed merely as an interesting coincidence. The inference is too strong that in any consultation between Collingwood and Nelson with regard to the order of battle the recollection of the scheme of attack which had so impressed the former must--even if unconsciously--have coloured the advice given by him to Nelson. Moreover such reflections give rise to a further curious speculation. To Nelson posterity is wont to ascribe the entire merit of the order of battle on that memorable day; he, it is held, was the active genius who conceived the plan of action, Collingwood was the acquiescer, a passive though able coadjutor. Yet Collingwood himself, the most modest of men and the least likely to make an erroneous statement with regard to such a question of fact, expressly asserts the contrary. "In this affair," he says, "Nelson did nothing without my counsel, _we made our line of battle together_ and concerted the attack." [4] On this point he also insists, in writing to Stanhope, to whom, as to his wife, he incidentally recalled the circumstances of his having foreseen the battle in a dream at Morpeth the week before the war broke out.

Throughout this period, in England, news was awaited with increasing anxiety. On October 31st, Mrs Stanhope wrote to her son John:--

The Papers are now quite alarming. I fear it is up with the Austrians
for the Russians cannot now join them. This horrid Bonaparte is a
scourge to the whole world. It is wonderful with what enthusiasm he
seems to inspire his men. They go where he likes and accomplish all
his plans.

Your father has written again to Admiral Collingwood to inform him
that if he does not return home, which, as he has changed his flag
from the Dreadnought, is not very probable, that he will send William
to him in the spring. Admiral Roddam, tho' he prefers a frigate,
approves of his going with Admiral C. as he is both a good man & an
excellent sailor, & will scrupulously perform that which he promises
to undertake.

_Nov. 2nd, 1805._

Not only Glyn, but all of us must shake with the horrid German
intelligence. I have little faith in the hope the papers hold out that
we may yet hear of a victory gained by the united Armies of Russia and
Austria--a few days must relieve us from our present state of
uncertainty--though I fear not of anxiety. How thankful I am that I
have no near connection going on the cruel expedition at this time.

A few days, and the great news came, with its conflicting elements of glory and of grief.

_Walter Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope._

My Dear John,

It is impossible to begin on this day any letter to any person without
most joyfully and most thankfully celebrating the glorious victory of
Lord Nelson. I cannot say that my triumph is so much alloyed as that
of many others seems to be and yet I trust I have as grateful a mind
and as high an admiration for Military renown as another man. No, it
is that I think that Nelson's glorious death is more to be envied than
lamented, and that to die wept by the land we perished for is what he
himself would have wished.

Would to God my little William had been on board Collingwood's ship on
that glorious day, whatever might have been the risque!

_The Same to the Vicar of Newcastle._

Although the death of Nelson is in my judgment more to be envied than
lamented, yet England secured by the loss of his life ought to feel,
bewail & reward it as far as posthumous honours and benefits to his
family and general Regret can do it. The late Victory affords peculiar
satisfaction to me from the brilliant Part that Admiral Collingwood
has had in it & the exquisitely good account he has given of it in his
Dispatches.

_Mrs Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope._
CANNON HALL, _November 9th, 1805._

Your father said he should write you a long letter this morning.... No
longer have we cause to talk and grieve about the Austrians, we may
now talk and rejoice at our glorious, and at the moment, unexpected
victory. What a day it was! but in the midst of our rejoicings we must
pause to shed a tear over the Hero who fell, though as every Hero must
wish to fall. Admiral Collingwood's dispatches do him honour, he at
all times writes well and this was a subject to draw out all his
powers and show the Feeling and Goodness of his Heart. Your father
wishes William had been with him. I am satisfied as it is!

_The Same._
_November 14th, 1805._

Your letter my dear John, arrived on Sunday, after mine was sealed,
and as the carriage was at the door to take us to church, I had not
time to open it, to add my thanks for your letter of Congratulations
on our great and glorious Victory. What has followed since, at any
other time would have been considered great, at all times must be
thought gallant.

Yesterday letters from Barnsley, reporting the capture of the
Rochefort Squadron, were so firmly believed that the Bells were
ringing.

The tears of the Nation must be shed over the brave Nelson, but his
death was that of a Hero, and such he truly was. The Dispatches do
Admiral Collingwood great honor, and his bravery is already rewarded
with a peerage. I had a letter from his wife to-day, who says he wrote
in the greatest grief for his friend. She had not heard since the
Dispatches were sent, when the Fleet was in a miserable state, she, of
course, under great anxiety. The Euryalus has, I hope, brought further
accounts. Probably the funeral of Lord Nelson will be Publick--what a
thrilling sight it will be. Surely some mark of honour will be
bestowed upon his Widow. At present his Brother's wife has place of
her, and she has not been mentioned.

_Marianne Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope._

I have made a vow not to name Lord Nelson or the Victory or Victories
in any of my letters, but postscripts are excluded. Every letter Mamma
has had has been full of nothing else; if care is not taken, it will
be like the invasion, a constant topick when you have nothing to say.
--I think it is a great proof of genius to have written a letter
without naming the event. What say you to Lord Collingwood? I would
rather have his patent of nobility than the longest pedigree in the
kingdom. I should glory more in his title than in the Duke of
Norfolk's.

Mamma had a letter from Lady Collingwood to-day, still very anxious
for his safety, as she had heard nothing since the Victory, and his
ship was then much disabled. He had written to her Lord Nelson's death
was a most severe blow to him, for he was his greatest friend. I
almost wish dear William had been with him.

_November 20th., 1805._
FARNELY.

We begin to be impatient for more news. Think of poor Lady
Collingwood--she was in a shop in Newcastle when the Mail arrived
covered with ribbands, but the coachman with a black hat-band. He
immediately declared the great victory, but that Lord Nelson and all
the Admirals were killed. She immediately fainted. When she heard from
Lord Collingwood first he wrote in the greatest grief for his friend,
and said the fleet was in a miserable state. Perhaps that may bring
him home.

Are you not pleased with his being created a Peer in so handsome a
manner. Why has not Lady Nelson some honour conferred upon her? Surely
the Widow of our Hero ought not to be so neglected.

Yesterday we drank to the immortal memory of our Hero. Mr Fawkes has
got a very fine print of him.

The clock strikes ten which announces breakfast, therefore adieu, my
dear John.

The wish expressed in the last letter that more tidings would arrive respecting the great event which had taken place, was speedily gratified. A letter written by Collingwood to Sir Peter Parker on November 1st, was sent _via_ Stanhope for his perusal, and he preserved a copy of it.

_Lord Collingwood to Sir Peter Parker._
_November 1st., 1805._

You will have seen from the public accounts that we have fought a
great battle, and had it not been for the fall of our noble friend who
was indeed the glory of England and the admiration of all who saw him
in battle, your pleasure would have been perfect.... It was a severe
action, no dodging or manoeuvres. They formed their line with nicety
and waited our attack with composure. They did not give a gun until we
were close to them & we began first. Our ships were fought with a
degree of gallantry which would have warmed your heart. Everybody
exerted themselves and a glorious day they made of it, people who
cannot comprehend how complicated an affair a battle is at sea and
judge of an officer's conduct by the number of sufferers in his ship,
often do him a wrong, and though there will appear great difference in
the loss of men, all did admirably well; and the conclusion was good
beyond description, eighteen hulks of the enemy lying amongst the
British fleet without a stick standing, and the French Achilles
burning.--But we were close to the rocks of Trafalgar [5] & when I
made the signal for anchoring, many ships had their cable shot & not
an anchor ready.

Providence did for us what no human effort could have done, the wind
shifted a few points and we drifted off the land. The next day bad
weather began and with great difficulty we got our captured ships
towed off the land. The second, Gravina, who is wounded, made an
effort to cut off some of the ships with a squadron of 9 ships with
which he retired. In the night the gale increased and two of his
ships, the "_Mayo_" of 100 guns and "_Indomitable_" of 80 were
dismasted. The "_Mayo_" anchored amongst our hulks and surrendered;
the "_Indomitable_" lost on the shore and I am told that every soul
perished. Among such numbers it is difficult to ascertain what we have
done, but I believe the truth is 23 sail of the line fell into our
hands of which three got in again in the gale of wind....

The storm being violent and many of our own ships in most perilous
situations, I found it necessary to order the captures,--all without
masts, some without rudders & many half full of water--to be
destroyed, except such as were in better plight, for my object was
their ruin & not what might be made of them. As this filled our ships
with prisoners and the wounded in a miserable condition, I sent a flag
to the Marquis of Solana [6] to offer him his wounded men, which was
received with every demonstration of joy and gratitude, & two French
Frigates & a Brigg were sent out for them. In return, he offered me
his Hospitals & the security of Spanish honour that our wounded should
have every care & every comfort that Spain could afford, so you see,
my dear Sir, though we fight them, we are upon very good terms.

But what most astonished them was our keeping the sea after such an
action, with our injured masts and crippled ships, which I did the
longer to let them see that no efforts of theirs could drive a British
Squadron from its station.

This letter is of exceptional interest since it throws fresh light on a matter which has now afforded food for controversy for over a century. Nelson's dying injunctions had been that the fleet was to anchor. Owing, it was contended, to Collingwood having failed promptly to carry out these instructions of the master mind, many prizes were lost. James, who in his _Naval History_ is severe in his criticism of Collingwood's error of judgment in this particular, has further pointed out that four ships which did anchor on the evening of the engagement weathered the gale successfully. This letter of Collingwood gives his reasons for his course of action. It proves that although when he did give the order to anchor its execution was impracticable, yet that he had strong reason for destroying a number of the captured ships, which were all but worthless as prizes. His assertion, "My object was their ruin and not what might be made of them," bears out the verdict of Lord St Vincent, quoted by Lord Eldon, that "Collingwood's conduct after the Battle of Trafalgar in destroying under difficult circumstances the defeated fleet was above all praise"; while the conclusion of Collingwood's letter contains a sentiment at which few will cavil.

From Mrs Stanhope's Uncle, Edward Collingwood, in Northumberland, there was subsequently forwarded to her a letter written by Collingwood in the first glory of victory and the first bitterness of his grief for Nelson's death.

My dear friend received his mortal wound about the middle of the
fight, and sent an officer to tell me that he should see me no more.

His loss was the greatest grief to me. There is nothing like him for
gallantry and conduct in battle. It was not a foolish passion for
fighting, for he was the most gentle of human creatures, and often
lamented the cruel necessity of it; but it was a principle of duty,
which all men owed their country in defence of their laws and liberty.
He valued his life only as it enabled him to do good, and would not
preserve it by any act he thought unworthy. He wore four stars upon
his breast and could not be prevailed to put on a plain coat, scorning
what he thought a shabby precaution: but that perhaps cost him his
life, for his dress made him the general mark.

He is gone, and I shall lament him as long as I live.

To Walter Stanhope he wrote:--

_Queen, March 6th., 1806._

I thank you and Mrs Stanhope most sincerely for your kind
congratulations on the success of the Fleet, and the high honour his
Majesty has been graciously pleased to confer on me in testimony of
his approbation, which I am sure will be very gratifying to all my
friends, and that you will enjoy it as much as any of them.

I have indeed had a severe loss in the death of my excellent friend
Lord Nelson. Since the year 73 we have been on terms of the greatest
intimacy--chance has thrown us very much together in service and on
many occasions we have acted in concert--there is scarce a Naval
subject that has not been the subject of our discussion, so that all
his opinions were familiar to me; and so firmly founded in principles
of honour, of justice, of attachment to his country, at the same time
so entirely divested of everything interesting to himself, that it was
impossible to consider him but with admiration. He liked fame and was
open to flattery so that people sometimes got about him who were
unworthy of him. He is a loss to his country that cannot easily be
replaced.

Thus in a few words, the very reticence of which enhances their significance, did Collingwood sum up the greatness and the weakness of Nelson. Gifted, brilliant, faulty by reason of his emotional temperament, strong by reason of his enthusiasm--his all-enthralling sense of duty, Nelson flashed like a meteor across the ken of his generation to vanish in a haze of glory. He died at the psychological moment--his life, according to this account, the sacrifice to a dazzling folly. And the man whom he loved--the man whose sterling worth is swamped by Nelson's more vivid personality, was left to battle on alone through the weary years. The intoxication of victory did not blind Collingwood to the colossal task which yet lay before him. To Stanhope he wrote with undiminished anxiety:--

The idea that the Victory we gained has so entirely reduced the
enemy's fleet that no danger is now to be apprehended from them, ought
not to be encouraged. On the contrary, I believe they will make up for
their loss by extraordinary exertion. You see they have immediately
sent all their fleet to sea, and clean as they are from Port, they can
avoid an encounter when they are not very superior. The ships that I
have here are many of them the dullest in the British fleet, so that I
have little chance of getting near them until they come with double
our number, and when they do, I shall do the best with them I can.
Whatever their project is, it must be interrupted--defeated if
possible. Bonaparte seems determined to have the whole of the
Mediterranean, islands and all. Whenever he is prepared to take
possession he knows how to make a quarrel with the Court of Madrid.

A few months later he wrote:--

I have a laborious and anxious life and little time to write even to
my wife. The only comfort I have here is good health and the
consciousness that I am doing the best I can for my country--and a
good deal I believe we shall have to do before we can establish a
happy and secure peace--for I believe in the heart of the Tyrant
enmity is so deeply rooted towards England, that it will only be
extinguished with his natural life. I consider the contest with him
but in its infancy--our independence as a people is at stake. Wisdom
in our councils and fortitude in the field was never so necessary to
us, and I trust neither will be found wanting.

In every quarter the power of France is increasing,--here the
Spaniards are but his Puppets, his mandates come to Cadiz as they go
to Brest. His birthday is kept as that of their Sovereign, the French
flag is worn upon the Governor's house, upon rejoicing days, with that
of the Spanish. In Italy they hoist it upon the same staff as that of
the Pope--it will not be long before the Pope's is worn out with the
contentions of its bad neighbourhood. Sir Sidney Smith is doing what
he can to rouse the Calabrians to resistance--he gives them money and
the mob follow his officers--but the people of property have
universally attached themselves to the French-not from liking them--
but in the hope that in the end they may be left with the rag of their
fortunes.

At Cadiz they are making great progress in their equipment of a fleet,
they have 12 sail of the line ready for sea, two more well advanced in
their fitting,--I have 9, which I consider to be equal to beating
them, but whenever we meet I would do more-_not a shadow of one
should be left upon the face of the waters_. They will be cautious
whenever they come--and my ships sail but ill in general.

I heard from Lady Collingwood that she had the pleasure of visiting
you when in town.

And then comes a more personal note:--

I am totally at a loss about the obtaining my patent--from what
office does it issue and about what sum is the amount of the fees? I
suppose I shall be ruined by them. I will be much obliged to you for
any information you can give me on these subjects--that I may not, by
delaying to do what is proper, seem negligent of this high honour of
which I am (I hope) justly proud. Sir Isaac Heard sent me the form of
a letter which it was necessary to write to the Duke of Norfolk or
Hereditary Earl Marshal, for his Grace's patent to Garter, to grant me
supporters of armorial bearings appropriate. I suppose he will let me
know when that is done.

I hope you will forgive me, my dear Sir, for mentioning this subject
to you, but from my total ignorance of everything relating to it, I am
afraid of neglecting something which I ought to do.

Stanhope furnished his friend with all necessary information, and on the following December 4th, Mrs Stanhope wrote to her son--

Lord Collingwood proves himself worthy of the great charge reposed in
him. Mr Stanhope says he thinks next to Pitt's his is the greatest
trust. His property must be small. He married a Miss Blackett whose
father was brother to the late Sir Edward and is Uncle to the present
Sir William Blackett, a man of large fortune in Northumberland. He has
two daughters, the eldest must be nearly fourteen. I had this morning
a long account from my uncle of a ball given by Lady Collingwood at
Newcastle, where 450 people sat down to supper. Unfortunately the
Mayor instead of giving Lord Collingwood's health, gave _The Memory
of Lord Nelson_, with a solemn dirge, which so affected Lady
Collingwood that she fainted, and was obliged to leave the room. She
had not heard from Lord Collingwood for some time which made it the
more affecting.

It was on December 23rd, that Nelson's body preserved in spirits arrived at Greenwich, and forthwith the favourite toast in Yorkshire was one perhaps peculiarly characteristic of the county, "Here's to the Hero who died for his country and came home in spirits!" On January 9th, his funeral took place at St Paul's Cathedral, and Stanhope, who attended it, must have felt a tightening of the throat as he realised how soon his small son was to face dangers such as had occasioned the death of the gallant man whom all England mourned. Moreover, Lord Collingwood had encouraged few delusions with regard to his own capability of aiding the career of the future midshipman. "If Parents were to see how many of their chicks go to ruin from being sent too early abroad they would not be so anxious about it," he wrote on one occasion, while on another he pointed out--"I need not say how glad I shall be to take all the care of William I can, and do him all the service in my power, but it is rather late in my day to be very useful to him as I shall be seeking to retire about the time he is launching into the world." Still more did he emphasise his inability to obtain promotion for those for whom he might have most desired it. On one occasion when Stanhope enclosed a letter from his friend Sir James Graham begging for the advancement of a young lieutenant, Collingwood replied, "I would gladly show every attention in my power to any friend of yours, but I have _no opportunity of advancing any officer beyond a midshipman sometimes_"; and four years after the Battle of Trafalgar he explained that he had still "some of the Lieutenants who were with me in action a few years since and no prospect of providing for them --I have little here but constant labour."

But what he could do in the way of protecting and befriending his little kinsman he was eager to accomplish, and his letters show how much anxious thought he devoted to the subject.

_Admiral Lord Collingwood to Walter Spencer-Stanhope._
_January 20th, 1806._

I shall be very glad to see your son William, and will take good care
of him, and give him the best introduction to this service that I can.
I hope he has got on a little in mathematicks, because I have not a
school master now in my ship--I had, but he got hurt in the
_Sovereign_ and went home. Lord Barham tells me a ship is to be
sent out to me soon--William might come out conveniently in her....

With respect to his equipment, do not burden him with baggage--if he
takes care of it, it is but a miserable occupation, and if he does not
it will be lost. Therefore, to keep him clean and above want is
enough; a comfortable bed, that his health requires; two or three Blue
jackets and waistcoats; his Navigation books that he has been taught
from--whether it is Robinson's Elements, or Hamilton's Moore; a
quadrant and a case of instruments. For his reading, you will give him
such books as you think proper and are least voluminous--a history of
England--of Rome--and Greece, with voyages or abridgment of them--but
his baggage must be _light_--for the moment he enters a ship he
must have no personal cares--all that relates to himself must be
secondary--or nothing.

With respect to his supply of money or anything else, when he comes to
me, he shall want for nothing. I will take care he is sufficiently
provided and whatever expenses he has, I will tell you that you may
repay me.

You would be delighted at the glorious fight we have had. Had but my
friends Lord Nelson & Duff lived through it, I should have been happy
indeed. Lord Nelson was well known and universally lamented; Duff had
all the qualities that adorn a great and good man but was less known.
He commanded the Mess, and stuck to me in the day's battle as I hope
my son would have done--it was however a great day, yet I feel we have
much more to do--the French are venturing out with their squadrons and
they must be crushed. The powerful armies that are opposed to them on
the continent will, I hope, do their part well, but I cannot say I
have a very high opinion of Austrian armies & Austrian generals; their
military education is good, but they yet seem to want that good &
independent spirit that should animate a soldier--they are all money-
making and _will_ trade--and a soldier that makes wealth his
object will sell an army whenever he can get a good price for it.

I have received letters from Mr Collingwood and Admiral Roddam and am
exceedingly happy to hear they were then in good health. The Admiral
by this time has taken up his quarters at Skillingworth.

I am rather upon the rack just now. Duckworth went after the French
Squadron that I had intelligence of near Teneriffe. I am afraid the
Frenchman has duped him, and by throwing false intelligence in his way
has sent him to the West Indies--or I ought to have seen him again
before this; but Sir John Duckworth who is a well-judging man ought
not to have been so deceived as to suppose that a squadron which had
been three or four months at sea were on their way to the West Indies
--but I do not despair of catching them yet, even without him.

Napoleon then believed that he had successfully duped Collingwood in this manner; "Mon opinion est que Collingwood est parti et est allé aux Grandes Indes," he wrote at this date, only to discover later that his enemy had never been deceived.

Meanwhile Stanhope was devoting all his attention to a matter which he had much at heart. So far Collingwood's great services to his country had been rewarded with the barren honour of a peerage which had made an unwelcome claim upon his slender means, and with regard to which his one petition had been refused--that since he had no son to succeed him the title should descend to one of his daughters. Stanhope was therefore anxious to procure for Lord Collingwood a more substantial award in the form of an annuity which might benefit his family. On February 11th 1806, Mrs Stanhope wrote to her son--

News I have none for you to-day, further than that your Father is
delighted with having had it in his power to be of use to Lord
Collingwood. His Pension was granted for three generations in the Male
line; now, as he has no son nor ever likely to have any, it was really
only rewarding him for his own life. At the Duchess of Gordon's, where
your Father was last night, he saw Sheridan and Lord Castlereagh [7]
and he mentioned that if half was settled upon his widow and the other
half on his daughters after his death, it would be a real advantage to
him, which both said should be done, if he would attend the House to-
day. Most probably he will propose it in the House [8] and the
intelligence will be conveyed by William. I think I sent you word we
had heard from Lord Collingwood--the date the 20th., of January,
therefore I imagine he must have been off Cadiz.

Yet even this suggestion to reward the man to whom England owed so much met with considerable opposition. "Lord Collingwood's Annuity Bill came on again on Monday," wrote Mrs Stanhope on February 28th. "Your Father still hopes it will be settled on Lady Collingwood and her daughters, tho' Lord H. Petty does not approve of the change, Lord Castlereagh and Mr Sheridan are both of your Father's opinion."

Stanhope, however, carried his point and earned the gratitude of the family of the absent Admiral. It is true that when the news first reached Collingwood of the discussion relating to his pension which had taken place in the House, he was deeply wounded. Some of the speeches seemed to him to imply that the representation of the slender state of his finances had been made with his concurrence, and he felt, as he told his wife, that he had been held up in the House as an object of compassion. "If I had a favour to ask," he wrote emphatically, "money would be the last thing I should require from an impoverished country. I have motives for my conduct which I would not give in exchange for a thousand pensions." But when he heard of Stanhope's amendment of the original proposition, and that Lady Collingwood and his daughters would now profit by the thoughtfulness of his kinsman, he wrote an acknowledgment of such efforts on his behalf with a sincere gratitude in which pride still mingled.

I am much obliged to you Sir for your kindness in taking so much
trouble about my pension--it is a subject I had not thought of myself
--as my family are amply provided for I left the bounty of the King to
take its course, but this is so much in addition and I am very much
obliged for your consideration of what perhaps I should not have
thought of.

By a strange coincidence, at the very moment when the question of this annuity was before the House, Collingwood and Stanhope may be said to have benefited jointly by a legacy from a common kinsman. Edward Collingwood, Mrs Stanhope's uncle before referred to, expired in February 1806, leaving his estate of Chirton to Lord Collingwood and his estate of Dissington to his niece Mrs Stanhope in trust for her third son. The Admiral, however, expressed little satisfaction in the acquisition of his new property. "I am sorry the possessor of it is gone," he wrote with his usual warmth of heart, "for I have lost a friend who I believe sincerely loved me, and have got an estate which I could have done very well without. I am told poor Admiral Roddam laments him very much and I love him the more for it." Much correspondence forthwith ensued between Collingwood and Stanhope with respect to the distribution of the portion of the furniture and personalties which had been bequeathed to Stanhope and which he was anxious to place at the disposal of Lady Collingwood, who, nevertheless, declined the offer. "Lady Collingwood informed me of your kind attention to her," wrote Collingwood, gratefully, on hearing of it, "but I think she judged right, considering the uncertainty at what time I should come to live there, ... besides, if I should have a son to succeed me, I should probably rebuild the house, and the present furniture would not be suitable to the new one. But," he adds again, feelingly, "the subject of it must become more indifferent to me than it now is before I can determine anything about it: it never engages my attention but in sorrow. I lost more real happiness in the death of my friend, whom I esteemed and reverenced, than his estate can make me amends for--its greatest value to me is that it is _his_ bequest."

Likewise with regard to Stanhope's proposition of leaving "the moiety of the books at Chirton which by the will of Mr Collingwood were devised to the possessor of Dissington," Collingwood decided--"I think in this, as in every other respect, his will should be literally complied with and nothing left to future arrangement." He therefore requested his brother- in-law, Mr Blackett, to choose "some learned and competent gentleman" who was to act for him in conjunction with any person Stanhope saw fit to appoint, to make a just division between them "in all the branches of learning and science and with respect to value." Referring to the fine classical volumes in the library, he pointed out that this would be a simple matter, as most of these had duplicates or triplicates, but "God knows," he exclaimed, "whether any of my family may want any of them! To me the English authors are valuable and whether I shall ever see any of them is doubtful."

The amicable discussion with regard to this matter was still in progress while little William journeyed out to join his kinsman. A month after Nelson's funeral, Stanhope was taking the preliminary steps for his son's departure. "I brought William home to be measured," he wrote on February 9th, "and sent him back yesterday in very good spirits. His mind certainly appears to open very much and he is a good little fellow. At times he is low and said the other day how odd he should feel to be entirely with strangers."

On February 26th, the embryo sailor set forth on his perilous adventures, followed by the thoughts of his family, whose tender solicitude brings very near that parting of a century ago. "I long to hear how the dear little midshipman bears his departure," writes one of his brothers, "How very pretty he will look in his uniform!" and the first details of the little lad's arrival on board ship, of his quaint sayings and doings, and how manfully he bore his separation from the last member of his family circle have been faithfully preserved. But he soon pronounced a favourable verdict on his new profession--"I like being on bord a ship very much, but today it has bean a very ruf see," he wrote on March 10th, with a fine discrimination of the advantages and disadvantages of a nautical career; while, anxious to prove that he was now become a man of the world, who could appreciate the exigencies of a situation which had been occupying the attention of the public, he observes with sudden irrelevance--"What a sad afair this seems, this deth of Mr Pit!"

Early in April, Collingwood wrote to announce the arrival of his new midshipman, whom he describes as "a fine sensible boy with great powers of observation," and William wrote, as he continued to write, gratefully and enthusiastically of his treatment by Collingwood, whom he explains is "the kindest and best man who ever lived." Thenceforward every item of information respecting his son was sent by Collingwood to Stanhope, who in return retailed to Collingwood everything which he could glean respecting Lady Collingwood and her daughters. The latter came to London in May, with a view to completing their education, and both they and their mother seem to have turned to Stanhope and his family in every perplexity in life. "I am greatly obliged to you for your account of my daughters," wrote Collingwood, in a letter which shows how minutely he was kept informed of every detail relating to them, even to their little tricks of speech and manner. "I am not impatient for their going in to the North. I hope they have lost much of their provincial dialect."

And still, at any mention of his home or of those dearest to him, there breaks involuntarily into his correspondence that longing, which would not be repressed, for a sorely needed respite from labour and for the balm of reunion with those he loved. There were, perhaps, few people to whom he ventured to unburden himself as simply and spontaneously as he did to Stanhope, a man linked to him by the tie of kinship, yet not so closely as to make any such self-revelation on his part a possible selfishness. Thus it is that this hitherto unpublished batch of his correspondence betrays ever more and more, with a pathos of which the writer was obviously unconscious, how the strain of watching and of loneliness was undermining an indomitable brain and soul.

Collingwood's existence, indeed, alternated between an eternal racking anxiety and a monotony before which the imagination sinks appalled. "Between days and nights I am almost wore out," he wrote briefly to Stanhope on April 29th, 1806, "but I do not mean to quit my station while I have health"; and on September 26th of that same year, after writing an account of the situation in which he finds himself, he exclaims abruptly, "It is the dullest life that can be conceived and nothing but the utmost patience can endure it!" During long months of blockading, dawn after dawn arose to reveal to his weary gaze the same boundless expanse of rocking ocean, which he had well-nigh learnt to hate; the same restricted space of deck to traverse; the same routine of action to contemplate; the same type of food further to nauseate a reluctant appetite; the same complete lack of mental and physical relaxation, which is, in itself, almost an essential to sanity. Thus, soon, to the tension of that perpetual guardianship was added the haunting dread that an existence which was undermining his health might also impair his mental faculties, and this at a time when he was aware that one false step, one error in strategy, and ignominy might be his portion or the liberties of England herself be the sacrifice.

In a diary [9] in which, during the last years of his life, he entered memoranda, ostensibly from which to compile his dispatches, there is conveyed more eloquently than by any laboured insistence the ceaseless fret of his guardianship and the impracticability which he experienced of sifting the truth or falsehood of the information on which his line of conduct was dependent. Incessantly do its pages recall, with elaborate care, the details of reported engagements and of reported manoeuvres of the enemy, supplied from some apparently unimpeachable source, and incessantly are such memoranda revoked emphatically by a later entry. Once, after retailing minutely the details of an assault undertaken by the Portuguese and Spaniards against the French--which he was informed had continued for six days and during which about 8000 of the former and 6000 of the latter had been killed--and subsequent to which all the inhabitants of Elvas had been put to the sword by the French--he appends with pardonable irritation--"_Not a word of this true--the whole a fabrication for the amusement of country gentlemen and ladies._" Meanwhile he was confronted by the knowledge that those who were most ready to criticise his decisions, had least comprehension of the difficulties with which he had to contend.

On May 15th, 1807, Mrs Stanhope writes:--

I have had letters from Lord Collingwood and William of so late a date
as the 29th of April. Lord C. writes out of Spirits, the recent great
losses have hurt him and the failure at Constantinople, tho' no blame
attached to him. He sent out one third more force than the Government
considered necessary and they were at the Dardanelles when they were
supposed to be with him; but the defences of Constantinople, both
natural and of art, were little known, the Castles as strong as Cannon
can make them and of that particular kind the Turks use and from which
they fire balls of granite or marble;--those would not go far, but
they do very well for a passage which is so narrow their object cannot
be far of. One which passed through the _Windsor Castle_ weighed
800 pounds. He thinks there will be an active campaign in Italy--
Sicily their object.

On December 19th, Marianne Stanhope retailed--

Papa has this instant received a most delightful account from Lord
Collingwood of William, everything that is satisfactory. He says
everything that we could wish both of his health, disposition and
capacity, the letter is dated October 13th, off Sicily. He mentions
his hopes of being able to catch the French if they come to Sicily,
but the difficulty will be, from the extent of the coast they will
come from all quarters. He said that the Sicilians finding that we
take the part of the Court who are most completely detested will make
for relief from any quarter. The Turks, he says, detest the Russians,
and lament much the misunderstanding with us, but are completely in
the power of the French past all relief. The Buenos Ayres expedition,
he says, he always blamed, and that it turned out exactly as he
predicted, and that we are most completely detested by the people who
formerly respected us.