The Life of Nelson, Volume 1

It was now after four o'clock, and the other Spanish division, of eight ships, was heading for the scene and near at hand. Although effectually blocked in their first attempt to pierce the British line, these had not received such injury as to detract seriously from their efficiency. Continuing to stand south-southwest, after the British began tacking, they at last gained ground sufficiently to come up to windward, the side on which their other division was. In view of the now inevitable junction of a great number of comparatively fresh ships, and of the casualties in his own vessels, Jervis decided to discontinue the action. He ordered his fleet to form on the starboard tack, covering the four prizes and the "Captain;" and with this done the firing soon ceased. The Spanish divisions united, and carried off their other disabled ships.

Nelson's account of the proceedings of the "Captain" on the 14th of February, having been published not long afterwards, apparently by his authority, was challenged as incorrect by Vice-Admiral William Parker, commanding the van, whose flag was on board the third British ship, the "Prince George." Parker claimed that the latter, with the "Blenheim" and "Orion," had been much closer to the "Captain" and "Culloden" than was implied in Nelson's narrative by the words, "For near an hour, I believe, (but do not pretend to be correct as to time,) did the Culloden and Captain support this apparently, but not really, unequal contest; when the Blenheim, passing between us and the enemy, gave us a respite." Parker labored under the misfortune of a singularly involved and obscure style, while in two separate papers he contradicted himself more than once on points of detail; but the tone of his letter to Nelson was temperate and dignified, and he asserted that, "so different to your statement, very soon after you commenced your fire, you had four ships pressing on [Culloden, Blenheim, Prince George, and Orion], almost on board of each other, close in your rear; but"—and the admission following must be noted as well as the charge—"ships thus pressing upon each other, and the two latter not far enough ahead to fire with proper effect,49 besides having none of the enemy's ships left in the rear for our succeeding ships, at forty-three50 minutes past one I made the signal to fill and stand on." Parker had also stated, in his log of the action, that the brunt fell upon the "Captain," the "Culloden," and the "Blenheim," but more particularly the two former, "from their being more in the van."

It appears to the writer probable that Nelson over-estimated the period that he and Troubridge remained unsupported; time would seem long to the bravest man, when opposed to such heavy odds. Parker seems to have reckoned it to be about fifteen minutes, and he admits that it was impossible for him to open fire with proper effect for some time, although close on the heels of the "Captain" and the "Culloden," because he could not get abreast of the enemy. All the ships—Spanish and British—were moving ahead, probably at not very different rates of speed. The "Prince George" certainly became in the end actively and closely engaged, much of the time with the "San Josef," a ship of force superior to her own.

Nelson's account is a simple, if somewhat exultant, narrative of the facts as they passed under his observation; and, except in the statement to which Parker objected, they do not even inferentially carry an imputation upon any one else. There was a reflection, though scarcely intended, upon the van ships, which should have been, and Parker says were, close behind the "Culloden;" but the attack was upon the extreme rear of the enemy, and Nelson probably forgot that readers might not understand, as he did, that the ships behind him must need some time to get up, and that his own position, abreast the enemy's rear, was in itself an obstacle to their reaching a place whence their batteries could bear, with the limited train of broadside guns in those days.

Another and interesting illustration of the injustice a man may thus unintentionally do, through inadvertence, is afforded by Nelson's accounts of St. Vincent. There were two drawn up on board the "Captain,"—one by himself in his own hand; the second simply signed by him, Miller, and Berry. It is quite evident that the latter is based upon the former, much of the phraseology being identical; but the whole is toned down in many points. The instance of unintentional injustice is this. In his autograph account, Nelson, thinking only of himself,51 speaks of his going with the boarders, and makes no mention of the captain of the ship, Miller, whose proper business it would be rather than his. In the revision, Miller would naturally feel that his failure to board should be accounted for, and it contains accordingly the statement, "Captain Miller was in the very act of going also, but I directed him to remain." Berry's hand also appears; for whereas Nelson's own account of boarding the "San Josef" simply says, "I got into her main-chains," the published copy reads, "Captain Berry assisting me into the main-chains."

So too with reference to Parker's controversy. In the first draft there occurs the unqualified statement: "For an hour the Culloden and Captain supported this apparently unequal contest." The revision reads: "For near an hour, I believe, (but do not pretend to be correct as to time,)52 did Culloden and Captain," etc. Parker quotes from the revision, which was therefore the one published, but does not quote the words italicized. Probably, if the "Blenheim" and the "St. George" had had a hand in this revision, there would have been more modification; but Nelson did not realize where he was hurting them, any more than he did in Miller's case.

The love of glory, the ardent desire for honorable distinction by honorable deeds, is among the most potent and elevating of military motives, which in no breast has burned with a purer flame than in that of Nelson; but it is better that officers leave the public telling of their own exploits to others, and it is evident that Nelson, when taken to task, realized uncomfortably that he had not exercised due thoughtfulness. Parker refrained from addressing him till he had received the printed account. This was not till July, and his remonstrance reached Nelson shortly after the loss of his arm at Teneriffe, when on his way home for what proved to be a tedious and painful recovery. He was then suffering, not only from pain and weakness, but also from discouragement about his professional future, which he thought threatened by disability, and for these conditions allowance must be made; but for all this his reply did not compare favorably with Parker's letter, which had been explicit in its complaint as well as moderate in expression. He wrote curtly: "I must acknowledge the receipt of your letter of the 25th of July; and, after declaring that I know nothing of the Prince George till she was hailed from the forecastle of the San Nicolas,53 it is impossible I can enter into the subject of your letter."

This course was the more ungenerous, because no explanation, or even admission of involuntary wrong done, could have detracted in the least from the abounding credit due and accorded to Nelson for his conduct at St. Vincent, which indeed did not depend upon the length of time he remained unsupported, but upon the rapidity and fearlessness with which he had acted aright at a very critical juncture. This had been done so openly, under the eyes of all men, that it could by no means be hid. Collingwood had borne witness to it, in words which have been quoted. Drinkwater and Elliot had watched the whole from the deck of their frigate. The latter had written to him: "To have had any share in yesterday's glory is honour enough for one man's life, but to have been foremost on such a day could fall to your share alone." The commander-in-chief had come out to greet him upon the quarter-deck of the flagship,—a compliment naval officers can appreciate,—had there embraced him, saying he could not sufficiently thank him, and "used every kind expression which could not fail to make me happy." Jervis had also insisted upon his keeping the sword of the Spanish rear-admiral who fell on board the "San Josef."

Before dropping this subject, which has the unpleasantness that attends all contentions between individuals about their personal deserts, it is right to say that Nelson had held from the first that Collingwood, Troubridge, and himself were the only ones "who made great exertions on that glorious day: the others did their duty, and some not exactly to my satisfaction." "Sir John Jervis," he continued, "is not quite contented, but says nothing publicly." He then quotes an anecdote which, if he had it from Jervis, confirms his own opinion about the support given. "Calder [the Chief of Staff] said, 'Sir, the Captain and Culloden are separated from the fleet, and unsupported: shall we recall them?' 'I will not have them recalled. I put my faith in those ships: it is a disgrace that they are not supported and [are] separated.'"

In his public letter Jervis refrained alike from praise and from blame. He mentions but one name, that of Calder, as bearer of despatches, and only incidentally says that he has been useful to him at all times. In a private letter to the First Lord he was more explicit, yet scarcely adequately so. Whatever momentary expression of impatience escaped him, when anxious about the "Culloden" and "Captain," he knew that his own flagship could not get to them in time for efficient support, and he gives as the reason for reticence in his public letter that all had behaved well, and that he was "confident that had those who were least in action been in the situation of the fortunate few, their conduct would not have been less meritorious." He then mentions by name Troubridge,—who led the fleet,—Nelson, and Collingwood, and five ships (without the names of the captains), "Blenheim," "Prince George," "Orion," "Irresistible," and "Colossus," which "gallantly supported" Troubridge, though just where or when is not specified. "The ships' returns of killed and wounded," he says explicitly, "although not always the criterion of their being more or less in action, is, in this instance, correctly so." This would include the "Blenheim," whose casualties were in excess of any except the "Captain," and Parker's ship, the "Prince George," which lost not many less than Collingwood. The "Captain's" loss in killed, twenty-four, was double that of any other ship, and in killed and wounded nearly one-third that of the whole fleet.

An interesting anecdote of Jervis shows the importance conceded by him to Nelson's action. It rests on good authority, and is eminently characteristic of one who valued beyond most traits in an officer the power to assume responsibility. "The test of a man's courage," he used to say, "is responsibility." In the evening, while talking over the events of the day, Calder spoke of Nelson's wearing out of the line as an unauthorized departure from the method of attack prescribed by the admiral. "It certainly was so," replied Jervis, "and if ever you commit such a breach of your orders, I will forgive you also." Success covers many faults, yet it is difficult to believe that had Nelson been overwhelmed, the soundness of his judgment and his resolution would not equally have had the applause of a man, who had just fought twenty-seven ships with fifteen, because "a victory was essential to England at that moment." The justification of departure from orders lies not in success, but in the conditions of the case; and Jervis was not one to overlook these, nor hereafter to forget that only one man in his fleet had both seen the thing to do and dared the responsibility of doing it.

A victory so signal entailed, as a matter of course, a number of those rewards and titles with which Great Britain judiciously fostered the spirit of emulation in her Navy. These were to a considerable extent affairs of routine and precedent, and Nelson, knowing that junior flag-officers had on several previous occasions been made baronets, wished to avoid this hereditary dignity because inconsistent with his means. His love of distinction also prompted him to desire one of those Orders which carry with them the outward token of merit. Meeting Drinkwater the day after the battle, he expressed his reluctance to the baronetage, and upon the other's asking him whether he would prefer to be a Knight of the Bath, he replied, "Yes; if my services have been of any value, let them be noticed in a way that the public may know them." To Elliot, who was about to return at once to England, he wrote, asking him to make known his wishes to the Admiralty. "If you can be instrumental in keeping back what I expect will happen, it will be an additional obligation. I conceive to take hereditary honours without a fortune to support the dignity, is to lower that honour it would be my pride to support in proper splendour. There are other honours which die with the possessor, and I should be proud to accept, if my efforts are thought worthy of the favour of my King."

Elliot started for England a few days afterwards, and reached London at a time when the whole country was ringing with the news of the victory. Arriving at such a propitious moment, there could have been for Nelson no better advocate than this man, placed high in political councils, and having to give to the Ministry a long account of his career in the Mediterranean, throughout the whole of which the two had been in intimate contact and constant correspondence. Himself an eye-witness, and filled with enthusiasm for Nelson's latest exploit, Elliot knew better than any one that it was no sporadic outburst, but only a signal manifestation of the intuitive sagacity, the flashing promptness, and the sustained energy, whose steady fires he had known to burn, without slackening of force or change of motive, through two years of close personal association in public action to a common end. The government thus learned more of him than can easily transpire under ordinary service conditions, or be shown even by an incident like that at St. Vincent; and Elliot's admiration, free from all bias of professional partiality or professional jealousy, doubtless was more useful to Nelson than any narrative of his own could have been. Even the royal favor was conciliated, despite the obstinate temper which yielded prejudices with difficulty. "I must rejoice," wrote Nelson to the Duke of Clarence, who had mentioned to him the King's approval, "in having gained the good opinion of my Sovereign, which I once was given to understand I had no likelihood of enjoying."54 It was to the honor of the monarch that he was thus as pliant to admit merit in an officer as yet only rising to distinction, as he was firm at a later day to stamp with the marks of his displeasure the flagrant moral aberration of the then world-renowned admiral.

The coveted Knighthood of the Bath was accorded on the 17th of March, "in order," wrote the First Lord, "to mark the Royal approbation of your successful and gallant exertions on several occasions during the course of the present war in the Mediterranean, and more particularly of your very distinguished conduct in the glorious and brilliant victory obtained over the fleet of Spain by His Majesty's fleet, on the 14th of February last." Nelson's delight was great and characteristic. Material rewards were not in his eyes the most real or the richest. "Chains and Medals," he wrote to his brother, "are what no fortune or connexion in England can obtain; and I shall feel prouder of those than all the titles in the King's power to bestow." To his wife he said: "Though we can afford no more than a cottage—yet, with a contented mind, my chains, medals, and ribbons are all sufficient." To receive honor was second to no possession, except that of knowing he had deserved it.

On the evening of the Battle of St. Vincent, soon after the firing ceased, Nelson shifted his commodore's pendant to the "Irresistible," of seventy-four guns, the "Captain" being unmanageable from the damage done to her spars and rigging. Her hull also had been so battered, that he wrote a few days later she would never be able to receive him again, which proved to be true; for although, after she had been patched up, he returned to her temporarily, a newly fitted ship, the "Theseus," seventy-four, was assigned to his flag, as soon as a reinforcement arrived from England.

After a vain effort to reach the Tagus against contrary winds, with disabled ships, Jervis decided to take his fleet into Lagos Bay, an open roadstead on the southern coast of Portugal, and there to refit sufficiently to make the passage to Lisbon. While lying at Lagos Nelson became a Rear-Admiral of the Blue, by a flag-promotion dated on the 20th of February, although his flag was not hoisted until the first of April, when the official notification of his advancement was received by him. He was then thirty-eight and a half years of age. In this rank he remained until after the Battle of the Nile was fought, but it mattered comparatively little where he stood on the list of flag-officers, while Jervis commanded; that he was an admiral at all made it possible to commit to him undertakings for which he was pre-eminently qualified, but which could scarcely have been intrusted to a simple captain by any stretching of service methods, always—and not improperly—conservative.

On the 23d of February the fleet sailed again, and on the 28th anchored in the Tagus. The same day Nelson wrote to his wife that he was to go to sea on the 2d of March, with three ships-of-the-line, to look out for the Viceroy of Mexico, who was reported to be on his way to Cadiz, also with three ships-of-the-line, laden with treasure. "Two are first-rates," said he, "but the larger the ships the better the mark, and who will not fight for dollars?" Foul winds prevented his getting away until the 5th. From that date until the 12th of April he remained cruising between Cape St. Vincent and the coast of Africa, covering the approaches to Cadiz; frigates and smaller vessels being spread out to the westward, to gain timely notice of the approach of the specie ships, upon whose safe arrival Spain depended both for her commercial affairs and her naval preparations.

But while thus actively employed, and not insensible to the charm of dollars, the immediate business on board was not in itself so engrossing, nor to him so attractive, as to obtain that exclusiveness of attention which he prided himself upon giving to matters more military in character, and more critical in importance. "The Spaniards threaten us they will come out, and take their revenge," he writes to an occasional correspondent. "The sooner the better; but I will not believe it till I see it; and if they do, what will the mines of Mexico and Peru signify, compared with the honour I doubt not we shall gain by fighting an angry Don? They will have thirty sail of the line, we twenty or twenty-two; but fear we shall have a peace before they are ready to come out. What a sad thing that will be!" His mind reverts to the troops in Elba, which had been left in a most exposed position, and were now about to withdraw under the protection of some frigates, passing through a thousand miles of hostile sea open to the line-of-battle ships at Toulon. He is more concerned about them than about his possible prize-money in the rich ships from Vera Cruz and Havana, whose danger from his own squadron was agitating all Spain. "Respecting myself," he writes to Jervis, "I wish to stay at sea, and I beg, if line-of-battle ships are left out,55 either on this side the Gut, or to the eastward of Gibraltar, that I may be the man. This brings forward a subject which I own is uppermost in my mind,—that of the safety of our troops, should they embark from Elba. The French have a number of ships at Toulon. They may get two, three, or four ready, with a number of frigates, and make a push for our convoy. I am ready, you know, to go eastward to cover them, even to Porto Ferrajo, or off Toulon, or Minorca, as you may judge proper."

This exposed detachment continued to occupy his thoughts. A month later, on the 11th of April, he again writes: "I own, Sir, my feelings are alive for the safety of our army from Elba. If the French get out two sail of the line, which I am confident they may do, our troops are lost, and what a triumph that would be to them! I know you have many difficulties to contend with, but I am anxious that nothing should miscarry under your orders. If you think a detachment can be spared, I am ready to go and do my best for their protection." In both letters he apologizes for this freedom of urgency with his superior: "I have said much, but you have spoiled me by allowing me to speak and write freely. I trust you will not imagine that my taking the great liberty of thus mentioning my thoughts, arises from any other motive than affection towards you."

Jervis had already joined him on the 1st of April, before the second letter was written. His hesitation about sending the detachment suggested by Nelson had arisen, not from doubt as to the danger of the troops, but from the imminent expectation of the Spanish fleet coming out. The British force was already too inferior, numerically, to risk any diminution, in view of such a contingency. Confronted with divergent objects, Jervis would not be drawn into the snare of dividing his force; but after reconnoitring the port, he was satisfied that the Spaniards could not sail before Nelson had time to fulfil the proposed mission, and on the 12th of April he gave him the necessary orders. The latter transferred his own squadron to the command of Sir James Saumarez, and started at once. He had now returned to the "Captain," which had doubtless come down with Jervis. "She is little better than a wreck," he wrote to a friend; but the cripples had to be kept to the front, pending the arrival of fresh ships. Besides her, he had the "Colossus," seventy-four, and "Leander," fifty, with a suitable number of smaller cruisers. Passing within gunshot of Port Mahon in Minorca, he heard from several passing vessels that a French squadron of four ships-of-the-line was at sea, as he had anticipated; and these, he afterwards learned, were seen off Minorca only twenty-two hours before he passed. Fortunately a fresh northwest gale had carried them to the southward, and on the 21st of April, sixty miles west of Corsica, he joined the convoy, which carried over three thousand soldiers. He reached Gibraltar with it in safety in the early days of May, without adventures of any kind. "I observed a man-of-war brig evidently looking at us; but my charge was too important to separate one ship in chase of her, especially as three frigates had parted company; for until this garrison is safe down, I do not think our business is well finished." Its arrival completed the evacuation of the Mediterranean.

At Gibraltar several days were spent, evidently crowded with administrative details concerning the coming and going of convoys, for there is here an almost total cessation of Nelson's usually copious letter-writing. An interesting and instructive incident is, however, made known to us by one of the three letters dated during these ten days. The Consul of the United States of America had to apply to him for the protection of twelve American merchant ships, then at Malaga, against the probable depredations of French privateers lying in that port, which, under the edicts of the government of the French Republic, with whom the United States was at peace, were expected to overhaul and capture them when they sailed. Nelson at once complied, ordering a British frigate to go to Malaga and escort the vessels to the Barbary coast, and even out of the Straits, if necessary. In doing this, he wrote courteously to the Consul: "I am sure of fulfilling the wishes of my Sovereign, and I hope of strengthening the harmony which at present so happily subsists between the two nations."

On the 24th of May Nelson rejoined the admiral off Cadiz, and on the 27th shifted his own flag into the "Theseus." The day before he left the fleet, April 11th, Jervis had decided to institute a strict commercial blockade of Cadiz, with the object of distressing Spanish trade, preventing the entrance of supplies, upon which depended the operations of Spain against Portugal, as well as her naval preparations, and so forcing the Spanish fleet out to fight, in order to rid itself of such embarrassment. Nelson, as commander of the inshore squadron, had then issued the necessary notices to neutrals in the port, and to this charge he now returned. Under Jervis's intelligent partiality, he, the junior flag-officer, was thus intrusted with a command, which in the conduct of details, great and small, and in emergencies, was practically independent. Jervis, knowing his man, was content to have it so, reserving of course to himself the decision of the broad outlines of military exertion. The inshore squadron was gradually increased till it numbered ten sail-of-the-line. The boats of the fleet, which had been rowing guard off the harbor's mouth under the general supervision of the two senior flag-officers, were ordered, shortly after Nelson's arrival, to report to him; and upon him, indeed, devolved pretty nearly all the active enterprises of the fleet. It was his practice to visit the line of boats every night in his barge, to see by personal inspection of these outposts that his instructions were fully observed. "Our inferiority," he wrote about this time, "is greater than before. I am barely out of shot of a Spanish rear-admiral. The Dons hope for peace, but must soon fight us, if the war goes on."