Nelson: The Essential Hero by Ernle Dusgate Selby Bradford Page A

and staunch upholder of the old ways, was somehow equated in Nelson’s heart with his own father. It was with genuine satisfaction that he wrote to his friend Hercules Ross, a merchant from Jamaica: 'I have closed the war without a fortune : but I trust, and, from the attention that has been paid to me, believe there is not a speck on my character. True honour,
    I hope, predominates in my mind far above riches.’ Coming from another pen the words might sound sanctimonious, but in Nelson’s case they ring true.
    In October 1783 he applied to the Admiralty for six months’ leave of absence in order that he might visit France ‘on my private occasions’. The desire to see the country of his recent enemies was natural enough; important too was the acquisition of the French language, still that of refined society, and very useful to a naval officer who might one day be required to interrogate prisoners, or to read the papers and documents found aboard captured ships. One suspects that the latter was of more interest to Nelson than the beauties of the language (which he never did acquire). His first letter to William Locker, written from St Omer, presents a familiar picture of an insular naval officer whose standards of shore life had largely been set by Augustan London or parochial Burnham. Nelson could not agree with Sterne that ‘they order things better in France’, although he was familiar with Sentimental Journey and with Hogarth’s engravings, as his letter makes clear : ‘ 0 . . At half-past ten we were in Monsieur Grandsire’s house at Calais. His mother kept it when Hogarth wrote [sic] his Gate of Calais. Sterne’s Sentimental Journey is the best description I can give of our tour.’ He travelled with an old shipmate from the Lowestoffe , James Macnamara, who could speak some French and who was to be his mentor on their tour. Nelson remained resolutely unimpressed by France, and was equally disapproving of most of the English whom he met there. Although he was to comment favourably on the food, ‘partridges two-pence halfpenny a couple, pheasants and woodcock in proportion’, most other things including the travelling arrangements compared unfavourably with England.
    They told us we travelled en poste , but I am sure we did not get on more than four miles an hour. I was highly diverted looking what a curious figure the postillions in their jack boots, and their rats of horses made together. Their chaises have no springs, and the roads generally paved like London streets; therefore you will naturally suppose we were pretty well shook-together by the time we had travelled two posts and a-half, which is fifteen miles, to Marquise.
    The inns were no better: ‘We were shown into a room with two straw beds, and, with great difficulty, they mustered up clean sheets; and gave us two pigeons for supper, upon a dirty cloth, and wooden-handled knives - O what a transition from happy England .’
    Arrived at St Omer, which ‘Mac’ had suggested as a suitable base for the prosecution of their studies, Nelson was happier not only because they lodged with a pleasant family but because there were two attractive young daughters present. He remained disapproving, however, of the way in which so many of his countrymen adopted French manners and even sartorial habits. ‘Two noble Captains are here - Ball and Shepard, you do not know, I believe, either of them; they wear fine epaulettes, for which I think them great coxcombs: they have not visited me. I shall not, be assured, court their acquaintance.’ The voice of the provincial is unmistakable, and no doubt Ball and Shepard hardly considered the drably dressed captain worthy of their attention. It is amusing to reflect that only two years later epaulettes were ordered to be worn as part of British naval uniform, while Alexander Ball was later to become a rear-admiral, a baronet, one of Nelson’s closest friends, and first Governor of Malta. His equally over-dressed