England expects. For years, I hated that phrase.
It brought to mind 90s tabloid journalism and that torrid era of the mid-00s when almost every car had a little plastic St George’s flag flapping in the motorway wind during World Cup season. Rather than making me think of honour and glory, ‘England expects’ made me think of Asda car parks and Carlsberg Export.
I hated the phrase because it tapped into something of an inner national arrogance, rather than pride. England expects to triumph – at football, rugby, cricket, or even Eurovision – despite our track record on all fronts largely consisting of tear-inducing disasters. I have already seen ‘England expects’ used a few times in the run-up to this summer’s football European Championship.
The phrase actually comes from, as I’m sure you know (although, to be fair, I didn’t until I was about 25), one of Nelson’s flag signals from HMS Victory. It was sent to his fleet just before the Battle of Trafalgar:
England expects that every man will do his duty
Nelson had initially asked for the message to say, ‘England confides that every man will do his duty’. The man in charge of giving the signals on HMS Victory, John Pasco, suggested changing one word. ‘Expects’, Pasco told Nelson, was quicker to convey in flag signals than ‘confides’, which would require fifteen hoists.
‘That will do,’ Nelson replied, aware that hoisting-time was at a premium, ‘make it directly.’
Amidst the cheers on receiving the message, some sailors on the other ships were actually nonplussed by Nelson’s signal. They knew they had a duty to fulfil and didn’t need reminding. Hours later, with England’s safety from French invasion secured and Nelson killed, the signal took on a more melancholy note.
‘England expects’ wasn’t even Nelson’s final message to his fleet that day in 1805, just his most famous (and possibly the most famous ship signal of all time, until just over a century later, when the chaps in the Titanic‘s wireless room reported that they were suddenly finding it rather tricky to stop their fountain pens from rolling off their desk). In fact, Nelson’s very last command at Trafalgar was one of his favourite battle cries, repeated from previous engagements:
Engage the enemy more closely
Nelson’s England didn’t expect perfection. It expected men to give everything they had in defence of their nation. To achieve success, though, Nelson’s more specific message was to engage the enemy face-on.
Those, then, were Nelson’s parting words to his crews at Trafalgar: give it your best and get close enough to your oppressor to look them in the eye.
They are decent enough rules for life, not just for Georgian sailors. Or, indeed, for 21st-century footballers.
Nelson The Sailor 