The Boys' Nelson

Napoleon, now the Imperial Incarnation of the Revolution, for he had crowned himself Emperor of the French on the 2nd December 1804, was not to be thwarted because his subordinates had failed to bring his giant schemes to a successful issue on two distinct occasions. He was obsessed by a desire to “leap the ditch.” To humble that Island Power which was ever in his way, to strike at the very heart of that England whose wealth was lavished in fostering coalition after coalition, were now his fondest hopes. He thought, talked, and wrote of little else.

While his third plan was more involved than the others, it had the advantage of calling a greater number of ships into service. Villeneuve was to start from Toulon with eleven ships, release the Spanish squadron of six sail-of-the-line under the command of Admiral Gravina, and one French ship, at Cadiz, and then make for Martinique, where he would find Missiessy’s squadron of five sail. In a similar manner the twenty-one ships of Ganteaume’s fleet at Brest were to rally Gourdon’s fifteen vessels at Ferrol and also proceed to the West Indies. Thus no fewer than fifty-nine sail and many smaller vessels would be congregated for the final effort. While Nelson was searching for them, this immense armament, with Ganteaume in supreme command, would recross the Atlantic, appear off Boulogne, and convoy the flotilla to England. It is unnecessary to give the alternative plans furnished to the admirals. To do so would only tend to involve the broad outline of the manœuvre as detailed above and serve no essential purpose.

Spurred on by Napoleon’s displeasure, Villeneuve put to sea on the night of the 30th March 1805, and was sighted “with all sail set” by two British frigates on the following morning. It was not until the 4th April that Nelson, then off Toro, received this useful if vague intelligence, for the frigate which had followed in the tracks of the Toulon fleet had lost sight of the enemy. Her captain “thinks they either bore away to the eastward or steered S.S.W., as they were going when first seen,” Nelson informs the Admiralty. He “covered the Channel from Barbary to Toro with frigates and the fleet” in the hope of discovering them or obtaining reliable information as to their whereabouts. On the 18th April he says, “I am going out of the Mediterranean after the French fleet. It may be thought that I have protected too well Sardinia, Naples, Sicily, the Morea, and Egypt, from the French; but I feel I have done right, and am therefore easy about any fate which may await me for having missed the French fleet. I have left five frigates, besides the sloops, &c., stationed at Malta for the present service of the Mediterranean, and with the Neapolitan squadron will, of course, be fully able to prevent any force the French have left to convoy troops to Sicily.”

Nelson only succeeded in making sixty-five leagues in nine days “owing to very bad weather.” It was not until the 18th April, when Villeneuve had been at sea nearly three weeks, that he had news of the enemy having passed through the Straits on the 8th. “I am proceeding with the fleet under my command as expeditiously as possible to the westward in pursuit of them.” Sir John Orde had so far forgotten or neglected his duty that when Villeneuve made his appearance at Cadiz the commander of the blockading squadron made off without either sending word to Nelson or leaving a frigate to keep in touch with the enemy. Consequently Nelson was still uncertain as to their destination. “The circumstance of their having taken the Spanish ships which were [ready] for sea from Cadiz, satisfies my mind that they are not bound to the West Indies (nor probably the Brazils); but intend forming a junction with the squadron at Ferrol, and pushing direct for Ireland or Brest, as I believe the French have troops on board.” When off Tetuan on the 4th May he rightly observes, “I cannot very properly run to the West Indies without something beyond mere surmise; and if I defer my departure, Jamaica may be lost. Indeed, as they have a month’s start of me, I see no prospect of getting out time enough to prevent much mischief from being done.” Gibraltar Bay was reached on the 6th May, and at 6 P.M., Nelson was making his way through the Gut owing to there being “every appearance of a Levanter coming on.” Off Cape St Vincent he hoped to be met by a frigate from Orde with intelligence of the enemy’s route and also by a frigate from Lisbon. “If nothing is heard of them from Lisbon or from the frigates I may find off Cape St Vincent, I shall probably think the rumours which are spread are true, that their destination is the West Indies, and in that case think it my duty to follow them, or to the Antipodes, should I believe that to be their destination. I shall detach a sloop of war to England from off the Cape, when my mind is made up from either information or the want of it.”

Nelson’s idea as to the destination of the allied fleet was corroborated by Commodore Donald Campbell, a Scotsman who had entered the Portuguese navy. After clearing transports and taking on board sufficient provisions for five months, he set out from Lagos Bay with ten sail-of-the-line and a number of smaller craft on his long chase. “My lot is cast,” he hurriedly informs Ball, “and I am going to the West Indies, where, although I am late, yet chance may have given them a bad passage and me a good one. I must hope the best.”

Many minds, many opinions. What had become of the Allied fleet? Even more important, what had it accomplished? Such questions must have been ever present in the mind of Nelson and his officers. Everything about the enemy was so vague as almost to suggest a phantom fleet. “I still think Jamaica is their object,” is Nelson’s comment on the 27th of May when making for Barbadoes, “but many think Surinam or Trinidad; and Bayntun, that they will land their troops at the city of San Domingo. In short, everyone has an opinion, but it will soon be beyond doubt. Our passage, although not very quick, has been far from a bad one. They started from Cadiz thirty-one days before we did from St Vincent, and I think we shall gain fourteen days upon them in the passage; therefore they will only arrive seventeen days before us at Martinique, for I suppose them bound there. I shall not anchor at Barbadoes.... I have prayed Lord Seaforth to lay an embargo, that the French may not know of my approach, and thus again elude our vigilance. My mind is not altered that Egypt was their destination last January.” Eight days later, when the fleet was in Carlisle Bay, Barbadoes, and Nelson’s force had been augmented by the addition of two battleships under Cochrane, we are informed that “There is not a doubt in any of the admirals’ or generals’ minds, but that Tobago and Trinidad are the enemy’s objects; and although I am anxious in the extreme to get at their eighteen sail-of-the-line, yet, as Sir William Myers has offered to embark himself with 2000 troops, I cannot refuse such a handsome offer; and, with the blessing of God on a just cause, I see no cause to doubt of the annihilation of both the enemy’s fleet and army.”

It happened that the general had received a letter on the previous night from Brigadier-General Brereton, stationed at St Lucia, informing him that the enemy’s fleet, “steering to the southward,” had been reported as passing that island during the late hours of the 28th May. According to Brereton’s supposition its destination “must be either Barbadoes or Trinidad.”

Knowing full well that if the intelligence proved false it would lose him the French fleet, but having no alternative, Nelson set off for Tobago, where he learnt from the captain of an American vessel that his ship had been boarded by a French sail-of-the-line the day before. Then he received a signal from a passing ship that the enemy was at Trinidad, where he anchored on the 7th June. Another report came to land that on the 4th the enemy had been at Fort Royal and was likely to sail during the night for the attack of Grenada. He was at the latter island on the 9th, and heard that the enemy had not only passed Dominica three days before, “standing to the northward,” but had been lucky enough to capture a convoy of ships laden with sugar. Nelson peeped in at Montserrat on the 11th; on the 13th the troops were being disembarked at St John’s, Antigua, at which place the fleet had arrived the previous evening. “At noon I sailed in my pursuit of the enemy; and I do not yet despair of getting up with them before they arrive at Cadiz or Toulon, to which ports I think they are bound, or at least in time to prevent them from having a moment’s superiority. I have no reason to blame Dame Fortune. If either General Brereton could not have wrote, or his look-out man had been blind, nothing could have prevented my fighting them on 6 June; but such information, and from such a quarter, close to the enemy, could not be doubted.” He had already sent a fast-sailing brig with despatches to the Admiralty informing them of the probable return of the combined fleet to Europe, although so late as the 18th July he was not sure that the enemy had not tricked him and gone to Jamaica. With commendable alacrity Admiral Stirling was told to form a junction with Sir Robert Calder off Ferrol, and to await the enemy, for the commander of the brig has sighted the quarry and was of opinion from the course they were making that the neighbourhood of Cape Finisterre was their desired haven. It has remained for two modern historians to point out that Nelson had discerned the likelihood of Ferrol as an anchorage for Villeneuve’s fleet, and had forwarded a warning to the Admiral stationed off that port.65

On the date just mentioned Nelson joined Collingwood off Cadiz, but no accurate news awaited him. Indeed, the former pinned his faith to an attack on Ireland as the grand finale of Napoleon’s naval manœuvres. At Gibraltar the Admiral went on shore for the first time since the 16th June, 1803—over two years. From thence he proceeded to Cornwallis’s station off Ushant, and received orders from the Admiral to sail with the Victory and the Superb for Spithead. He struck his flag on the 19th August 1805 and set off for Merton.

To what extent had Napoleon’s plans succeeded? Villeneuve had reached Martinique on the 14th May, only to find that Missiessy had not awaited his coming according to instructions. Ganteaume was also unable to carry out his part of the plan, consequently Villeneuve was alone in the West Indies and might become Nelson’s prey at any moment. The prospect did not please him. When he heard that the great British commander had not only arrived at Barbadoes but had been reinforced by Cochrane he set the bows of his ships in the direction of home, contrary to the Emperor’s orders to wait for a stated period for Ganteaume’s arrival. So far from raiding the British West Indies, Villeneuve only succeeded in capturing the Diamond Rock at Martinique and Missiessy in taking Dominica, although the latter had reinforced the French colonies.

After a perilous voyage Villeneuve was approaching Ferrol in thick weather on the 22nd July when he came face to face with the squadron of fifteen battleships and four smaller vessels which had been sent by the Admiralty to await his coming. The action which followed was anything but decisive. The fleet Nelson had longed to annihilate was allowed to escape by Calder, whose only prizes were the Spanish San Rafael (84) and El Firme (74). After leaving three of his less seaworthy ships at Vigo, the French commander eventually reached Coruña.

Another Act of the great Atlantic Drama was over.

CHAPTER XX

Nelson’s Last Command

(1805)

“May the God of Battles crown my endeavours with success.”

Nelson.

In the previous chapter we left Nelson at Portsmouth after having chased the enemy nearly seven thousand miles, and been absent from home twenty-seven months. When “England’s darling” set foot on the landing-stage he received an immense ovation from the crowds of people who had assembled to show their appreciation of his services. “It is really quite affecting to see the wonder and admiration and love and respect of the whole world,” writes Lord Minto, referring to a mob in Piccadilly a little later, “and the general expression of all these sentiments at once, from gentle and simple, the moment he is seen. It is beyond anything represented in a play or poem.”

It was characteristic of the man that, before leaving his ship, he communicated with the Admiralty regarding the companies of the Victory and the Superb. He said they were in “most perfect health, and only require some vegetables and other refreshments to remove the scurvy.” Nelson at once proceeded to Merton, where he lived in quiet retirement with Lady Hamilton, playing with their beloved Horatia, or having a mental tussle with the French as he walked the garden-paths for hours without noticing either the passing of time or the presence of fatigue. Perhaps he pondered over the irony of Fate in giving the allied fleet into the hands of Calder, who had let the golden opportunity slip by him so easily, but more probably he wondered if the fickle goddess would yet allow him to break the yoke of Napoleon on the seas.

The Emperor had made a final effort to unite his scattered ships. When the combined fleet was on its way to Europe the blockades of Rochefort and Ferrol had been abandoned so that Calder might intercept the enemy. He was but partially successful, as already explained. The squadron of five sail-of-the-line at Rochefort, commanded by Allemand, Missiessy’s successor, had taken advantage of the temporary absence of the British squadron and was making its way to Vigo, where there were three sail.66 Villeneuve had put into Coruña with fifteen battle-ships, and found fourteen Spanish and French sail-of-the-line awaiting him. This brought the total of his available resources to thirty-four sail, provided all were united. If Villeneuve were able to join Ganteaume at Brest the number would be fifty-five. Cornwallis, with either thirty-four or thirty-five, was a dangerous menace, but when that commander detached eighteen sail to blockade Ferrol it did not seem insurmountable, even supposing that the five ships under Calder, then stationed off Rochefort, joined him, which they did on the 14th August. After considerable delay Villeneuve weighed anchor on the 13th August 1805, and hoped to reach Brest. He encountered bad weather, mistook Allemand’s ships for the enemy’s vessels, and, to make matters worse, was informed that a large British fleet was on the alert. With this he altered his course and put in at Cadiz a week later. Here he was watched by Collingwood with three sail-of-the-line and two smaller vessels, until the latter was reinforced by twenty-two battleships, four of which were under Sir Richard Bickerton and the remainder under Calder. When Napoleon heard of Villeneuve’s retirement to Cadiz he knew that his gigantic exertions for the invasion of the United Kingdom had been completely shattered. With marvellous facility he shifted his horizon from the white cliffs of England to the wooded banks of the Danube. The so-called Army of England was marched from Boulogne to win fresh conquests in the Austerlitz Campaign and to crush yet another coalition.

At five o’clock on the morning of the 2nd September 1805, Captain Blackwood presented himself at Merton. “I am sure you bring me news of the French and Spanish fleets,” Nelson exclaimed in his eager, boyish way, “and I think I shall yet have to beat them.” Blackwood was the bearer of the important intelligence that Villeneuve, largely augmented, was at Cadiz. For a time it would appear as if Nelson hesitated, not on his own account but because of those whom he loved. His health was bad, he felt the country very restful after his trying cruise, and he disliked to give Lady Hamilton cause for further anxiety. He walked the “quarter-deck” in his garden weighing the pros with the cons, then set off for the Admiralty in Whitehall.

“I think I shall yet have to beat them.” His mistress was apparently no less valiant, at least in her conversation. “Nelson,” she is stated to have said, “however we may lament your absence, offer your services; they will be accepted, and you will gain a quiet heart by it; you will have a glorious victory, and then you may return here, and be happy.”

Eleven days after Captain Blackwood’s call Nelson left Merton for ever. It was a fearful wrench, but he was prepared to sacrifice everything to his King and his country. The following night he wrote in his Diary, little thinking that the outpourings of his spirit would ever be revealed in the lurid light of publicity, a prayer which shows very clearly that he had a premonition he would never open its pages again under the roof of Merton Place:

“May the great God, whom I adore, enable me to fulfil the expectations of my Country; and if it is His good pleasure that I should return, my thanks will never cease being offered up to the Throne of His Mercy. If it is His good Providence to cut short my days upon earth, I bow with the greatest submission, relying that He will protect those so dear to me, that I may leave behind. His will be done. Amen, Amen, Amen.”

The Victory, on which he hoisted his flag, had been hastily patched up and put in fighting trim. As her escort went the Euryalus frigate, joined later by the Ajax and Thunderer.

Collingwood and Calder “sat tight” outside Cadiz harbour with one eye on the enemy and the other searching for signs of the British ships, for they had heard that Nelson would be with them ere long. Later, “my dear Coll” received further tidings by the Euryalus requesting that “not only no salute may take place, but also that no colours may be hoisted: for it is as well not to proclaim to the enemy every ship which may join the fleet.” The supreme modesty of Nelson stands out clearly in the last words of the note: “I would not have any salute, even if you are out of sight of land.”

The day before his forty-seventh birthday, Nelson hove in sight of Cadiz and assumed command. On the 29th the officers came to congratulate him. “The reception I met with on joining the fleet,” he declares, “caused the sweetest sensation of my life. The officers who came on board to welcome my return, forgot my rank as Commander-in-chief in the enthusiasm with which they greeted me. As soon as these emotions were past, I laid before them the plan I had previously arranged for attacking the enemy; and it was not only my pleasure to find it generally approved, but clearly perceived and understood.” Again: “Some shed tears, all approved,” he writes, “it was new, it was singular, it was simple; and from Admirals downwards it was repeated, ‘It must succeed if ever they will allow us to get at them! You are, my Lord, surrounded by friends whom you inspire with confidence.’”67 In due course the complete plan of attack was issued.

On October 19th the signal, “The enemy are coming out of port,” flew from the mastheads of the frigates stationed to watch the goings-on in the harbour. Thirty-three ships-of-the-line, with five frigates and two brigs, had passed out by the following day. They were certainly “painted ships,” with their vividly-coloured hulls of red and black, yellow and black, and black and white. Their mission was to support Napoleon’s army in the south of Italy.

Once at sea the combined fleet sailed in two divisions, as had been agreed upon by Villeneuve and Gravina, the commander of the Spanish vessels. The French Admiral’s own squadron, the Corps de bataille, was made up of twenty-one sail-of-the-line, the centre under Villeneuve himself, the van under Alava, and the rear under Dumanoir. The Corps de réserve, or Squadron of Observation, consisted of twelve ships divided into two squadrons of equal strength, each commanded by Gravina and Magon respectively. The duty of the Corps de réserve was to watch the battle and to reinforce any weak point as opportunity occurred.

Nelson’s force consisted of twenty-seven men-o’-war, four frigates, a schooner, and a cutter. The enemy, therefore, had the advantage as regards heavy ships, of six sail-of-the-line. In armament the combatants were nearly equal,68 as in bravery and daring, but very inferior in seamanship and general morale. It was very necessary to prevent the enemy from entering the Mediterranean, as Napoleon’s orders strictly enjoined them to do, therefore the signal was made for a “general chase S.E.,” namely, towards the Straits of Gibraltar.

Napoleon had resolved to supersede Villeneuve by Rosily. This decision probably carried more weight with the French Admiral than any other, and had determined his course of action, although at a council of war, held before anchors were weighed, a resolution was passed to avoid an engagement with the British if possible. Of personal courage he had no lack, for he wrote to Decrès, the Minister of Marine, “if the French navy has been deficient in nothing but courage, as it is alleged, the Emperor shall soon be satisfied, and he may reckon upon the most splendid success.” His great hope was that he might elude detection and land the troops he had on board at Naples. He was without faith in his ships.

Having seen that his orders were carried out, Nelson went to his cabin and began the last letter he was destined to write to Lady Hamilton. Here it is in full:

“Victory, October 19th 1805.  Noon.“Cadiz, E.S.E. 16 Leagues.

“My dearest beloved Emma, the dear friend of my bosom,—The signal has been made that the Enemy’s Combined Fleet are coming out of Port. We have very little wind, so that I have no hopes of seeing them before to-morrow. May the God of Battles crown my endeavours with success; at all events, I will take care that my name shall ever be most dear to you and Horatia, both of whom I love as much as my own life. And as my last writing before the Battle will be to you, so I hope in God that I shall live to finish my letter after the Battle. May Heaven bless you, prays your

“Nelson and Bronté.

“October 20th.—In the morning, we were close to the Mouth of the Straits, but the wind had not come far enough to the Westward to allow the Combined Fleets to weather the Shoals of Trafalgar; but they were counted as far as forty Sail of Ships of War, which I suppose to be thirty-four of the Line, and six Frigates. A group of them was seen off the Lighthouse of Cadiz this morning, but it blows so very fresh and thick weather, that I rather believe they will go into the Harbour before night. May God Almighty give us success over these fellows, and enable us to get a Peace.”

After Trafalgar had been fought and won, the above letter was found open on Nelson’s desk.

The 20th was cold, damp, and miserable, but the fleet had made good speed and was between Capes Trafalgar and Spartel. By noon the Victory was within eight or nine leagues of Cadiz.

Dr Beatty, surgeon of Nelson’s flagship, thus records how the day was spent:

“At 8 o’clock in the morning of the 20th, the Victory hove to, and Admiral Collingwood, with the captains of the Mars, Colossus, and Defence, came on board to receive instructions from his Lordship: at eleven minutes past nine they returned to their respective ships, and the fleet made sail again to the Northward. In the afternoon the wind increased, and blew fresh from the S.W., which excited much apprehension on board the Victory, lest the enemy might be forced to return to port. The look-out ships, however, made several signals for seeing them, and to report their force and bearings. His Lordship was at that time on the poop; and turning round, and observing a group of midshipmen assembled together, he said to them with a smile, ‘This day, or to-morrow, will be a fortunate one for you, young men,’ alluding to their being promoted in the event of a victory. A little before sunset the Euryalus communicated intelligence by telegraph69 that ‘the enemy appeared determined to go to the Westward.’ His Lordship, upon this, ordered it to be signified to Captain Blackwood by signal, that ‘he depended on the Euryalus for keeping sight of the enemy during the night.’ The night signals were so clearly and distinctly arranged by his Lordship, and so well understood by the respective Captains, that the enemy’s motions continued to be known to him with the greatest facility throughout the night: a certain number of guns with false fires and blue lights, announcing their course, wearing and making or shortening sail; and signals communicating such changes were repeated by the look-out ships, from the Euryalus to the Victory.”