towards her rival, when suffering from indisposition. Into these
recriminations it is needless to enter; those who wish can read for
themselves in the works mentioned. A marked symptom of growing
alienation was afforded by his leaving her on the 19th of December, in
company with the Hamiltons, to spend the Christmas holidays at
Fonthill, the seat of William Beckford.

During this visit occurred a curious incident, which shows that the
exultant delight unquestionably felt by Nelson in battle did not
indicate insensibility to danger, or to its customary effects upon
men, but resulted from the pleasurable predominance of other emotions,
which accepted danger and the startling tokens of its presence as the
accompaniments, that only enhanced the majesty of the part he was
called upon to play. Beckford tells the story as follows: "I offered
to show him what had been done by planting in the course of years.
Nelson mounted by my side in a phaeton, drawn by four well-trained
horses, which I drove. There was not the least danger, the horses
being perfectly under my command, long driven by myself. Singular to
say, we had not gone far before I observed a peculiar anxiety in his
countenance, and presently he said: 'This is too much for me, you must
set me down.' I assured him that the horses were continually driven by
me, and that they were perfectly under command. All would not do. He
would descend, and I walked the vehicle back again."[17] Nelson, of
course, never claimed for himself the blind ignorance of fear which
has been asserted of him; on the contrary, the son of his old friend
Locker tells us, "The bravest man (so we have heard Lord Nelson
himself declare) feels an anxiety '_circa præcordia_' as he enters the
battle; but he dreads disgrace yet more."[18] In battle, like a great
actor in a great drama, he knew himself the master of an invisible
concourse, whose homage he commanded, whose plaudits he craved, and