The terms were, “That the Troops, etc., belonging to his Britannic Majesty shall embark with all their arms of every kind, and take their Boats off, if saved, and be provided with such other as may be wanting; in consideration of which it is engaged on their part they shall not molest the Town in any manner by the Ships of the British Squadron now before it, or any of the Islands in the Canaries; and prisoners shall be given up on both sides.”
Troubridge’s game of bluff succeeded. His Excellency Don Antonio Gutierrez, Commandant-General of the Canary Islands, rid himself of the invaders and was rewarded by Nelson with a cask of English beer and a cheese!
It says much for Nelson’s indomitable pluck and recuperative powers, as well as for his keen interest in the service, that he allowed only two days to intervene before he penned a letter with his left hand to the Admiral. That he was depressed is obvious, that he still had a fund of grim humour is equally evident by the quaint postscript. The communication runs as follows:
“I am become a burthen to my friends, and useless to my Country; but by my letter wrote the 24th,[20] you will perceive my anxiety for the promotion of my son-in-law, Josiah Nisbet.[21] When I leave your command, I become dead to the World; I go hence, and am no more seen. If from poor Bowen’s loss,[22] you think it proper to oblige me, I rest confident you will do it; the Boy is under obligations to me, but he repaid me by bringing me from the Mole of Santa Cruz.
“I hope you will be able to give me a frigate, to convey the remains of my carcase to England. God bless you, my dear Sir, and believe me, your most obliged and faithful,
“You will excuse my scrawl, considering it is my first attempt.
In another despatch to his senior officer the leader of the ill-fated expedition avers that “A left-handed Admiral will never again be considered as useful, therefore the sooner I get to a very humble cottage the better, and make room for a better man to serve the State.” The noble Earl’s reply must have been as healing balm to the wounded body and depressed spirit of the man whose brilliant success had been followed so quickly by disastrous failure. “Mortals cannot command success;” he begins, “you and your Companions have certainly deserved it, by the greatest degree of heroism and perseverance that ever was exhibited.” Such praise from St Vincent was praise indeed, and he whimsically concludes by saying that he will “bow to your stump to-morrow morning, if you will give me leave.”