By this time, Nelson himself boasted a title - Baron Nelson of the Nile. Considering that Sir John Jervis had been made Earl of St Vincent for his part in that earlier victory, it seemed a scant reward, but as Nelson was not officially C-in-C of the Mediterranean Fleet, the government insisted they could not elevate him to any rank higher than a barony.

All throughout his life, Nelson felt that his achievements were never properly recognised by successive governments, which fact he put down to his relatively humble birth and lack of political connections - unlike Jervis and Arthur Wellesley, the eventual Duke of Wellington.

Meanwhile, there was still plenty to occupy Nelson’s time and, back in England, whatever the government may have thought, the population regarded him as a hero and he received the sort of adulation nowadays reserved for pop stars, footballers and, this year, the England cricket team. (Note: this article was originally written just weeks after England regained the Ashes in 2005 - could that happen again this year, 2009?).

Unfortunately, all this hero-worship seems to have gone to his head, although the bullet which struck that same head at Aboukir Bay may well have played its part, because although he never lost any of his sharpness as a naval tactician, his social awareness seems to have been seriously misguided.

Not that it was all down to him - far from it. Back in Palermo, Emma, Lady Hamilton, the young and beautiful wife of the elderly British ambassador, had her own sights well and truly set.

Confronted with the youngish, dashing, romantic little admiral and realising the restrictions imposed upon him by the lack of an eye and an arm, she set about making herself indispensable to him in many little ways, whilst her husband seemed content to turn a metaphorical blind eye to what was going on beneath his nose.

Very soon, it became obvious that Nelson and Emma were lovers and, whilst the Italians had a very Latin open approach to matters of the heart, there were certain proprieties and certain limits, which the illicit couple seemed intent on ignoring.

Sir William seemed happy to play host to his wife’s lover and Nelson accompanied the Hamilton’s to Malta and back to England, where the lovers’ flagrant disregard for society’s opinion made them virtual outcasts among the higher echelons.

Nelson’s popular appeal - his “touch” - however prevailed among the majority of the population and the aristocracy and political big-wigs had to temper their outrage and follow Emma’s husband’s approach, albeit reluctantly.

The birth of a daughter, Horatia, in 1801, overjoyed Nelson, who doted on the little girl, but again society was scandalised, even though Sir William Hamilton was to die two years after the birth, but fortunately Nelson’s periods of leave in England were punctuated by frequent returns to duty and further successes on the high seas.

In 1800, he had succeeded in capturing Le Genereux, one of the two French line ships to escape from Aboukir Bay and then, in April 1801, came another monumental triumph, at the Battle of Copenhagen ...

Although Russia had declared war on France in 1798, it had made no offensive moves and, by 1800, a state of armed neutrality had existed between Russia and the Scandinavian countries.

This was a problem for Britain, which relied upon Sweden for the supply of important raw materials, but the Danish-Norwegians and the Swedes were far more afraid of France and Russia than they were of any British threats.

With Napoleon’s own forces dominating central Europe and French forces now being massed in preparation for an eventual invasion of England, the British government was beginning to fear for the very existence of its country and resolved that some sort of pre-emptive move had to be made, to force the issue.

The Russian fleet was frozen up in its Baltic bases and it was decided to strike before the spring thaw could complicate matters; a British fleet was therefore assembled at Great Yarmouth, under the command of Admiral Sir Hyde Parker.

Meanwhile, the Danish-Norwegians were expecting an attack and had drawn up a defensive blockade line across the harbour at Skaw (Skagen) , on the Jutland Peninsula, which the British fleet reached on 17 March 1801.

Now Nelson and his superior had a falling out; Nelson was all for sailing straight in and taking on the Danish-Norwegian fleet head-to-head, believing that immediate action might take the defenders by surprise.

Hyde Parker, however, was a more cautious man and, in the end, sent a list of demands via a single frigate, demands which the Danish-Norwegians rejected out of hand, much as Nelson had suspected they would. He was given permission to attack.

Again, as at the Battle of the Nile, shallow waters were a problem, but Nelson detailed off several of his smaller vessels, with the shallowest draughts, to negotiate the shoals and attack the defensive line, whilst he, aboard his flagship HMS St George, led the rest of the main fleet to bombard the shore defences.

This move certainly surprised the Danish-Norwegians, but for several hours the outcome of the battle was in doubt, especially as four important British ships, the Elephant, Defiance, Russel and Bellona ran aground on sandbanks and their contribution to the fight reduced to a minimum.

The fire fight was ferocious and Hyde Parker, seeing the hail of destruction and the damage being caused to so many ships, sent a signal ordering Nelson to break off the action.

Legend has it that Nelson put his telescope to his blind eye, but it is doubtful whether he ever muttered the immortal line: “I see no ships”. Contemporary reports suggest a slightly more measured and dry response.

‘You know, Foley,’ he is reported as having said to his Flag Lieutenant, ‘I have only one eye. I have a right to be blind sometimes. I really do not see the signal.’

Supporters of Hyde Parker claimed afterwards that the Admiral’s signal was not a direct order to his second-in-command, but merely a “permission”, as having seen the damage being inflicted, he wished to allow Nelson to be able to withdraw with honour, if he thought it necessary.

Whatever the truth of that, the end result was that Nelson’s ships gradually began to wear down the defenders and the tide of the battle turned in his favour.

Finally, after extensive shelling of the harbour fortifications and several other buildings that were in range, Nelson offered the Danish-Norwegians surrender terms and this time they agreed, as there was little left of their navy ...