THE LIFE
OF
HORATIO LORD NELSON

BY ROBERT SOUTHEY (1774-1843)

TO JOHN WILSON CROKER ESQ.,
LL.D., F.R.S.,
SECRETARY OF THE
ADMIRALTY;
WHO, BY THE OFFICIAL SITUATION WHICH HE SO ABLY FILLS,
IS QUALIFIED TO APPRECIATE ITS HISTORICAL ACCURACY;
AND WHO,
AS
A MEMBER OF THE REPUBLIC OF LETTERS,
IS EQUALLY QUALIFIED TO DECIDE
UPON ITS
LITERARY MERITS,
THIS WORK
IS RESPECTFULLY
INSCRIBED BY HIS FRIEND,
THE AUTHOR

Many Lives of Nelson have been written; one is yet wanting, clear and
concise enough to become a manual for the young sailor, which he may carry
about with him till he has treasured it up for example in his memory and
in his heart. In attempting such a work I shall write the eulogy of our
great national hero, for the best eulogy of NELSON is the faithful history
of his actions, and the best history must be that which shall relate them
most perspicuously.

Contents

CHAPTER I

1758 – 1783

Nelson’s Birth and Boyhood—He is entered on Board the RAISONABLE—Goes
to the West Indies in a Merchant-ship; then serves in the TRIUMPH—He
sails in Captain Phipps’ Voyage of Discovery—Goes to the East Indies
in the SEAHORSE, and returns in ill Health—Serves as acting
Lieutenant in the WORCESTER, and is made Lieutenant into the LOWESTOFFE,
Commander into the BADGER Brig, and Post into the HINCHINBROKE—Expedition
against the Spanish Main—Sent to the North Seas in the ALBERMARLE—Services
during the American War.

HORATIO, son of Edmund and Catherine Nelson, was born September 29, 1758,
in the parsonage-house of Burnham Thorpe, a village in the county of
Norfolk, of which his father was rector. His mother was a daughter of Dr.
Suckling, prebendary of Westminster, whose grandmother was sister of Sir
Robert Walpole, and this child was named after his godfather, the first
Lord Walpole. Mrs. Nelson died in 1767, leaving eight out of eleven
children. Her brother, Captain Maurice Suckling, of the navy visited the
widower upon this event, and promised to take care of one of the boys.
Three years afterwards, when HORATIO was only twelve years of age, being
at home during the Christmas holidays, he read in the county newspaper
that his uncle was appointed to the RAISONNABLE, of sixty-four guns. “Do,
William,” said he to a brother who was a year and a half older than
himself, “write to my father, and tell him that I should like to go to sea
with uncle Maurice.” Mr. Nelson was then at Bath, whither he had gone for
the recovery of his health: his circumstances were straitened, and he had
no prospect of ever seeing them bettered: he knew that it was the wish of
providing for himself by which Horatio was chiefly actuated, and did not
oppose his resolution; he understood also the boy’s character, and had
always said, that in whatever station he might be placed, he would climb
if possible to the very top of the tree. Captain Suckling was written to.
“What,” said he in his answer, “has poor Horatio done, who is so weak,
that he, above all the rest, should be sent to rough it out at sea?—But
let him come; and the first time we go into action, a cannon-ball may
knock off his head, and provide for him at once.”

It is manifest from these words that Horatio was not the boy whom his
uncle would have chosen to bring up in his own profession. He was never of
a strong body; and the ague, which at that time was one of the most common
diseases in England, had greatly reduced his strength; yet he had already
given proofs of that resolute heart and nobleness of mind which, during
his whole career of labour and of glory, so eminently distinguished him.
When a mere child, he strayed a-birds’-nesting from his grandmother’s
house in company with a cowboy: the dinner-hour elapsed; he was absent,
and could not be found; and the alarm of the family became very great, for
they apprehended that he might have been carried off by gipsies. At
length, after search had been made for him in various directions, he was
discovered alone, sitting composedly by the side of a brook which he could
not get over. “I wonder, child,” said the old lady when she saw him, “that
hunger and fear did not drive you home.” “Fear! grandmama:” replied the
future hero, “I never saw fear:—What is it?” Once, after the winter
holidays, when he and his brother William had set off on horseback to
return to school, they came back, because there had been a fall of snow;
and William, who did not much like the journey, said it was too deep for
them to venture on. “If that be the case,” said the father, “you certainly
shall not go; but make another attempt, and I will leave it to your
honour. If the road is dangerous you may return: but remember, boys, I
leave it to your honour!” The snow was deep enough to have afforded them a
reasonable excuse; but Horatio was not to be prevailed upon to turn back.
“We must go on,” said he: “remember, brother, it was left to our honour!”—There
were some fine pears growing in the schoolmaster’s garden, which the boys
regarded as lawful booty, and in the highest degree tempting; but the
boldest among them were afraid to venture for the prize. Horatio
volunteered upon this service: he was lowered down at night from the
bedroom window by some sheets, plundered the tree, was drawn up with the
pears, and then distributed them among his school-fellows without
reserving any for himself. “He only took them,” he said, “because every
other boy was afraid.”

Early on a cold and dark spring morning Mr. Nelson’s servant arrived at
this school, at North Walsham, with the expected summons for Horatio to
join his ship. The parting from his brother William, who had been for so
many years his playmate and bed-fellow, was a painful effort, and was the
beginning of those privations which are the sailor’s lot through life. He
accompanied his father to London. The RAISONNABLE was lying in the Medway.
He was put into the Chatham stage, and on its arrival was set down with
the rest of the passengers, and left to find his way on board as he could.
After wandering about in the cold, without being able to reach the ship,
an officer observed the forlorn appearance of the boy, questioned him; and
happening to be acquainted with his uncle, took him home and gave him some
refreshments. When he got on board, Captain Suckling was not in the ship,
nor had any person been apprised of the boy’s coming. He paced the deck
the whole remainder of the day without being noticed by any one; and it
was not till the second day that somebody, as he expressed it, “took
compassion on him.” The pain which is felt when we are first transplanted
from our native soil—when the living branch is cut from the parent
tree is one of the most poignant which we have to endure through life.
There are after-griefs which wound more deeply, which leave behind them
scars never to be effaced, which bruise the spirit, and sometimes break
the heart; but never do we feel so keenly the want of love, the necessity
of being loved, and the sense of utter desertion, as when we first leave
the haven of home, and are, as it were, pushed off upon the stream of
life. Added to these feelings, the sea-boy has to endure physical
hardships, and the privation of every comfort, even of sleep. Nelson had a
feeble body and an affectionate heart, and he remembered through life his
first days of wretchedness in the service.

The RAISONNABLE having been commissioned on account of the dispute
respecting the Falkland Islands, was paid off as soon as the difference
with the court of Spain was accommodated, and Captain Suckling was removed
to the TRIUMPH, seventy-four, then stationed as a guard-ship in the
Thames. This was considered as too inactive a life for a boy, and Nelson
was therefore sent a voyage to the West Indies in a merchant-ship,
commanded by Mr. John Rathbone, an excellent seaman, who had served as
master’s mate under Captain Suckling in the Dreadnought. He returned a
practical seaman, but with a hatred of the king’s service, and a saying
then common among the sailors—”Aft the most honour; forward the
better man.” Rathbone had probably been disappointed and disgusted in the
navy; and, with no unfriendly intentions, warned Nelson against a
profession which he himself had found hopeless. His uncle received him on
board the TRIUMPH on his return, and discovering his dislike to the navy,
took the best means of reconciling him to it. He held it out as a reward
that, if he attended well to his navigation, he should go in the cutter
and decked long-boat, which was attached to the commanding-officer’s ship
at Chatham. Thus he became a good pilot for vessels of that description
from Chatham to the Tower, and down the Swin Channel to the North
Foreland, and acquired a confidence among rocks and sands of which he
often felt the value.

Nelson had not been many months on board the TRIUMPH, when his love of
enterprise was excited by hearing that two ships were fitting out for a
voyage of discovery towards the North Pole. In consequence of the
difficulties which were expected on such a service, these vessels were to
take out effective men instead of the usual number of boys. This, however,
did not deter him from soliciting to be received, and, by his uncle’s
interest, he was admitted as coxswain under Captain Lutwidge, second in
command. The voyage was undertaken in compliance with an application from
the Royal Society. The Hon. Captain Constantine John Phipps, eldest son of
Lord Mulgrave, volunteered his services. The RACEHORSE and CARCASS bombs
were selected as the strongest ships, and, therefore, best adapted for
such a voyage; and they were taken into dock and strengthened, to render
them as secure as possible against the ice. Two masters of Greenlandmen
were employed as pilots for each ship. No expedition was ever more
carefully fitted out; and the First Lord of the Admiralty, Lord Sandwich,
with a laudable solicitude, went on board himself, before their departure,
to see that everything had been completed to the wish of the officers. The
ships were provided with a simple and excellent apparatus for distilling
fresh from salt water, the invention of Dr. Irving, who accompanied the
expedition. It consisted merely in fitting a tube to the ship’s kettle,
and applying a wet mop to the surface as the vapour was passing. By these
means, from thirty-four to forty gallons were produced every day.

They sailed from the Nore on the 4th of June. On the 6th of July they were
in latitude 79d 56m 39s; longitude 9d 43m 30s E. The next day, about the
place where most of the old discoverers had been stopped, the RACEHORSE
was beset with ice; but they hove her through with ice-anchors. Captain
Phipps continued ranging along the ice, northward and westward, till the
24th; he then tried to the eastward. On the 30th he was in latitude 80d
13m; longitude 18d 48m E. among the islands and in the ice, with no
appearance of an opening for the ships. The weather was exceedingly fine,
mild, and unusually clear. Here they were becalmed in a large bay, with
three apparent openings between the islands which formed it; but
everywhere, as far as they could see, surrounded with ice. There was not a
breath of air, the water was perfectly smooth, the ice covered with snow,
low and even, except a few broken pieces near the edge; and the pools of
water in the middle of the ice-fields just crusted over with young ice. On
the next day the ice closed upon them, and no opening was to be seen
anywhere, except a hole, or lake as it might be called, of about a mile
and a half in circumference, where the ships lay fast to the ice with
their ice-anchors. From these ice-fields they filled their casks with
water, which was very pure and soft. The men were playing on the ice all
day; but the Greenland pilots, who were further than they had ever been
before, and considered that the season was far advancing, were alarmed at
being thus beset.

The next day there was not the smallest opening; the ships were within
less than two lengths of each other, separated by ice, and neither having
room to turn. The ice, which the day before had been flat and almost level
with the water’s edge, was now in many places forced higher than the
mainyard by the pieces squeezing together. A day of thick fog followed: it
was succeeded by clear weather; but the passage by which the ships had
entered from the westward was closed, and no open water was in sight,
either in that or any other quarter. By the pilots’ advice the men were
set to cut a passage, and warp through the small openings to the westward.
They sawed through pieces of ice twelve feet thick; and this labour
continued the whole day, during which their utmost efforts did not move
the ships above three hundred yards; while they were driven, together with
the ice, far to the N.E. and E. by the current. Sometimes a field of
several acres square would be lifted up between two larger islands, and
incorporated with them; and thus these larger pieces continued to grow by
aggregation. Another day passed, and there seemed no probability of
getting the ships out without a strong E. or N.E. wind. The season was far
advanced, and every hour lessened the chance of extricating themselves.
Young as he was, Nelson was appointed to command one of the boats which
were sent out to explore a passage into the open water. It was the means
of saving a boat belonging to the RACEHORSE from a singular but imminent
danger. Some of the officers had fired at and wounded a walrus. As no
other animal has so human-like an expression in its countenance, so also
is there none that seems to possess more of the passions of humanity. The
wounded animal dived immediately, and brought up a number of its
companions; and they all joined in an attack upon the boat. They wrested
an oar from one of the men; and it was with the utmost difficulty that the
crew could prevent them from staving or upsetting her, till the CARCASS’s
boat came up; and the walruses, finding their enemies thus reinforced,
dispersed. Young Nelson exposed himself in a more daring manner. One
night, during the mid-watch, he stole from the ship with one of his
comrades, taking advantage of a rising fog, and set off over the ice in
pursuit of a bear. It was not long before they were missed. The fog
thickened, and Captain Lutwidge and his officers became exceedingly
alarmed for their safety. Between three and four in the morning the
weather cleared, and the two adventurers were seen, at a considerable
distance from the ship, attacking a huge bear. The signal for them to
return was immediately made; Nelson’s comrade called upon him to obey it,
but in vain; his musket had flashed in the pan; their ammunition was
expended; and a chasm in the ice, which divided him from the bear,
probably preserved his life. “Never mind,” he cried; “do but let me get a
blow at this devil with the butt-end of my musket, and we shall have him.”
Captain Lutwidge, however, seeing his danger, fired a gun, which had the
desired effect of frightening the beast; and the boy then returned,
somewhat afraid of the consequences of his trespass. The captain
reprimanded him sternly for conduct so unworthy of the office which he
filled, and desired to know what motive he could have for hunting a bear.
“Sir,” said he, pouting his lip, as he was wont to do when agitated, “I
wished to kill the bear, that I might carry the skin to my father.”

A party were now sent to an island, about twelve miles off (named Walden’s
Island in the charts, from the midshipman who was intrusted with this
service), to see where the open water lay. They came back with information
that the ice, though close all about them, was open to the westward, round
the point by which they came in. They said also, that upon the island they
had had a fresh east wind. This intelligence considerably abated the hopes
of the crew; for where they lay it had been almost calm, and their main
dependence had been upon the effect of an easterly wind in clearing the
bay. There was but one alternative: either to wait the event of the
weather upon the ships, or to betake themselves to the boats. The
likelihood that it might be necessary to sacrifice the ships had been
foreseen. The boats accordingly were adapted, both in number and size, to
transport, in case of emergency, the whole crew; and there were Dutch
whalers upon the coast, in which they could all be conveyed to Europe. As
for wintering where they were, that dreadful experiment had been already
tried too often. No time was to be lost; the ships had driven into shoal
water, having but fourteen fathoms. Should they, or the ice to which they
were fast, take the ground, they must inevitably be lost; and at this time
they were driving fast toward some rocks on the N.E. Captain Phipps sent
for the officers of both ships, and told them his intention of preparing
the boats for going away. They were immediately hoisted out, and the
fitting begun. Canvas bread-bags were made, in case it should be necessary
suddenly to desert the vessels; and men were sent with the lead and line
to N. and E., to sound wherever they found cracks in the ice, that they
might have notice before the ice took the ground; for in that case the
ships must instantly have been crushed or overset.

On the 7th of August they began to haul the boats over the ice, Nelson
having command of a four-oared cutter. The men behaved excellently well,
like true British seamen: they seemed reconciled to the thought of leaving
the ships, and had full confidence in their officers. About noon, the ice
appeared rather more open near the vessels; and as the wind was easterly,
though there was but little of it, the sails were set, and they got about
a mile to the westward. They moved very slowly, and were not now nearly so
far to the westward as when they were first beset. However, all sail was
kept upon them, to force them through whenever the ice slacked the least.
Whatever exertions were made, it could not be possible to get the boats to
the water’s edge before the 14th; and if the situation of the ships should
not alter by that time, it would not be justifiable to stay longer by
them. The commander therefore resolved to carry on both attempts together,
moving the boats constantly, and taking every opportunity of getting the
ships through. A party was sent out next day to the westward to examine
the state of the ice: they returned with tidings that it was very heavy
and close, consisting chiefly of large fields. The ships, however, moved
something, and the ice itself was drifting westward. There was a thick
fog, so that it was impossible to ascertain what advantage had been
gained. It continued on the 9th; but the ships were moved a little through
some very small openings: the mist cleared off in the afternoon, and it
was then perceived that they had driven much more than could have been
expected to the westward, and that the ice itself had driven still
further. In the course of the day they got past the boats, and took them
on board again. On the morrow the wind sprang up to the N.N.E. All sail
was set, and the ships forced their way through a great deal of very heavy
ice. They frequently struck, and with such force that one stroke broke the
shank of the RACEHORSE’s best bower-anchor, but the vessels made way; and
by noon they had cleared the ice, and were out at sea. The next day they
anchored in Smeerenberg Harbour, close to that island of which the
westernmost point is called Hakluyt’s Headland, in honour of the great
promoter and compiler of our English voyages of discovery.

Here they remained a few days, that the men might rest after their
fatigue. No insect was to be seen in this dreary country, nor any species
of reptile—not even the common earth-worm. Large bodies of ice,
called icebergs, filled up the valleys between high mountains, so dark as,
when contrasted with the snow, to appear black. The colour of the ice was
a lively light green. Opposite to the place where they fixed their
observatory was one of these icebergs, above three hundred feet high; its
side toward the sea was nearly perpendicular, and a stream of water issued
from it. Large pieces frequently broke off and rolled down into the sea.
There was no thunder nor lightning during the whole time they were in
these latitudes. The sky was generally loaded with hard white clouds, from
which it was never entirely free even in the clearest weather. They always
knew when they were approaching the ice long before they saw it, by a
bright appearance near the horizon, which the Greenlandmen called the
blink of the ice. The season was now so far advanced that nothing more
could have been attempted, if indeed anything had been left untried; but
the summer had been unusually favourable, and they had carefully surveyed
the wall of ice, extending for more than twenty degrees between the
latitudes of 80d and 81d, without the smallest appearance of any opening.

The ships were paid off shortly after their return to England; and Nelson
was then placed by his uncle with Captain Farmer, in the SEAHORSE, of
twenty guns, then going out to the East Indies in the squadron under Sir
Edward Hughes. He was stationed in the foretop at watch and watch. His
good conduct attracted the attention of the master (afterwards Captain
Surridge), in whose watch he was; and upon his recommendation the captain
rated him as midshipman. At this time his countenance was florid, and his
appearance rather stout and athletic; but when he had been about eighteen
months in India, he felt the effects of that climate, so perilous to
European constitutions. The disease baffled all power of medicine; he was
reduced almost to a skeleton; the use of his limbs was for some time
entirely lost; and the only hope that remained was from a voyage home.
Accordingly he was brought home by Captain Pigot, in the DOLPHIN; and had
it not been for the attentive and careful kindness of that officer on the
way, Nelson would never have lived to reach his native shores. He had
formed an acquaintance with Sir Charles Pole, Sir Thomas Troubridge, and
other distinguished officers, then, like himself, beginning their career:
he had left them pursuing that career in full enjoyment of health and
hope, and was returning, from a country in which all things were to him
new and interesting, with a body broken down by sickness, and spirits
which had sunk with his strength. Long afterwards, when the name of Nelson
was known as widely as that of England itself, he spoke of the feelings
which he at this time endured. “I felt impressed,” said he, “with a
feeling that I should never rise in my profession. My mind was staggered
with a view of the difficulties I had to surmount and the little interest
I possessed. I could discover no means of reaching the object of my
ambition. After a long and gloomy reverie, in which I almost wished myself
overboard, a sudden glow of patriotism was kindled within me, and
presented my king and country as my patron. ‘Well then,’ I exclaimed, ‘I
will be a hero! and, confiding in Providence, I will brave every danger!'”

Long afterwards Nelson loved to speak of the feelings of that moment; and
from that time, he often said, a radiant orb was suspended in his mind’s
eye, which urged him onward to renown. The state of mind in which these
feelings began, is what the mystics mean by their season of darkness and
desertion. If the animal spirits fail, they represent it as an actual
temptation. The enthusiasm of Nelson’s nature had taken a different
direction, but its essence was the same. He knew to what the previous
state of dejection was to be attributed; that an enfeebled body, and a
mind depressed, had cast this shade over his soul; but he always seemed
willing to believe that the sunshine which succeeded bore with it a
prophetic glory, and that the light which led him on was “light from
heaven.”

His interest, however, was far better than he imagined, During his
absence, Captain Suckling had been made Comptroller of the Navy; his
health had materially improved upon the voyage; and as soon as the DOLPHIN
was paid off, he was appointed acting lieutenant in the WORCESTER,
sixty-four, Captain Mark Robinson, then going out with convoy to
Gibraltar. Soon after his return, on the 8th of April 1777, he passed his
examination for a lieutenancy. Captain Suckling sat at the head of the
board; and when the examination had ended, in a manner highly honourable
to Nelson, rose from his seat, and introduced him to the examining
captains as his nephew. They expressed their wonder that he had not
informed them of this relationship before; he replied that he did not wish
the younker to be favoured; he knew his nephew would pass a good
examination, and he had not been deceived. The next day Nelson received
his commission as second lieutenant of the LOWESTOFFE frigate, Captain
William Locker, then fitting out for Jamaica.

American and French privateers, under American colours, were at that time
harassing our trade in the West Indies: even a frigate was not
sufficiently active for Nelson, and he repeatedly got appointed to the
command of one of the LOWESTOFFE’s tenders. During one of their cruises
the LOWESTOFFE captured an American letter-of-marque: it was blowing a
gale, and a heavy sea running. The first lieutenant being ordered to board
the prize, went below to put on his hanger. It happened to be mislaid; and
while he was seeking it, Captain Locker came on deck. Perceiving the boat
still alongside, and in danger every moment of being swamped, and being
extremely anxious that the privateer should be instantly taken in charge,
because he feared that It would otherwise founder, he exclaimed, “Have I
no officer in the ship who can board the prize?” Nelson did not offer
himself immediately, waiting, with his usual sense of propriety, for the
first lieutenant’s return; but hearing the master volunteer, he jumped
into the boat, saying, “It is my turn now; and if I come back, it is
yours.” The American, who had carried a heavy press of sail in hope of
escaping, was so completely water-logged that the LOWESTOFFE’s boat went
in on deck and out again with the sea.

About this time he lost his uncle. Captain Locker, however, who had
perceived the excellent qualities of Nelson, and formed a friendship for
him which continued during his life, recommended him warmly to Sir Peter
Parker, then commander-in-chief upon that station. In consequence of this
recommendation he was removed into the BRISTOL flag-ship, and Lieutenant
Cuthbert Collingwood succeeded him in the LOWESTOFFE. Sir Peter Parker was
the friend of both, and thus it happened that whenever Nelson got a step
in rank, Collingwood succeeded him. The former soon became first
lieutenant, and on the 8th of December 1778 was appointed commander of the
BADGER brig; Collingwood taking his place in the BRISTOL. While the BADGER
was lying in Montego Bay, Jamaica, the GLASGOW of twenty guns came in and
anchored there, and in two hours was in flames, the steward having set
fire to her while stealing rum out of the after-hold. Her crew were
leaping into the water, when Nelson came up in his boats, made them throw
their powder overboard and point their guns upward; and by his presence of
mind and personal exertions prevented the loss of life which would
otherwise have ensued. On the 11th of June 1779 he was made post into the
HINCHINBROOK, of twenty-eight guns, an enemy’s merchantman, sheathed with
wood, which had been taken into the service. Collingwood was then made
commander into the BADGER. A short time after he left the LOWESTOFFE, that
ship, with a small squadron, stormed the fort of St. Fernando de Omoa, on
the south side of the Bay of Honduras, and captured some register ships
which were lying under its guns. Two hundred and fifty quintals of
quicksilver and three millions of piastres were the reward of this
enterprise; and it is characteristic of Nelson that the chance by which he
missed a share in such a prize is never mentioned in any of his letters;
nor is it likely that it ever excited even a momentary feeling of
vexation.

Nelson was fortunate in possessing good interest at the time when it could
be most serviceable to him: his promotion had been almost as rapid as it
could be; and before he had attained the age of twenty-one he had gained
that rank which brought all the honours of the service within his reach.
No opportunity, indeed, had yet been given him of distinguishing himself;
but he was thoroughly master of his profession, and his zeal and ability
were acknowledged wherever he was known. Count d’Estaing, with a fleet of
one hundred and twenty-five sail, men of war and transports, and a reputed
force of five-and twenty thousand men, threatened Jamaica from St.
Domingo. Nelson offered his services to the Admiral and to
Governor-General Dalling, and was appointed to command the batteries of
Fort Charles, at Port Royal. Not more than seven thousand men could be
mustered for the defence of the island,—a number wholly inadequate
to resist the force which threatened them. Of this Nelson was so well
aware, that when he wrote to his friends in England, he told them they
must not be surprised to hear of his learning to speak French. D’Estaing,
however, was either not aware of his own superiority, or not equal to the
command with which he was intrusted: he attempted nothing with his
formidable armament; and General Dalling was thus left to execute a
project which he had formed against the Spanish colonies.

This project was, to take Fort San Juan on the river of that name, which
flows from Lake Nicaragua into the Atlantic; make himself master of the
lake itself, and of the cities of Granada and Leon; and thus cut off the
communication of the Spaniards between their northern and southern
possessions in America. Here it is that a canal between the two seas may
most easily be formed—a work more important in its consequences than
any which has ever yet been effected by human power. Lord George Germaine,
at that time secretary of state for the American Department, approved the
plan; and as discontents at that time were known to prevail in the Nuevo
Reyno, in Popayan, and in Peru, the more sanguine part of the English
began to dream of acquiring an empire in one part of America, more
extensive than that which they were on the point of losing in another.
General Dalling’s plans were well formed; but the history and the nature
of the country had not been studied as accurately as its geography: the
difficulties which occurred in fitting out the expedition delayed it till
the season was too far advanced; and the men were thus sent to adventure
themselves, not so much against an enemy, whom they would have beaten, as
against a climate which would do the enemy’s work.

Early in the year 1780, five hundred men destined for this service were
convoyed by Nelson from Port Royal to Cape Gracias a Dios, in Honduras.
Not a native was to be seen when they landed: they had been taught that
the English came with no other intent than that of enslaving them, and
sending them to Jamaica. After a while, however, one of them ventured
down, confiding in his knowledge of one of the party; and by his means the
neighbouring tribes were conciliated with presents, and brought in. The
troops were encamped on a swampy and unwholesome plain, where they were
joined by a party of the 79th regiment from Black River, who were already
in a deplorable state of sickness. Having remained here a month, they
proceeded, anchoring frequently, along the Mosquito shore, to collect
their Indian allies, who were to furnish proper boats for the river, and
to accompany them. They reached the river San Juan, March 24th; and here,
according to his orders, Nelson’s services were to terminate; but not a
man in the expedition had ever been up the river, or knew the distance of
any fortification from its mouth; and he not being one who would turn back
when so much was to be done, resolved to carry the soldiers up. About two
hundred, therefore, were embarked in the Mosquito shore craft and in two
of the HINCHINBROOK’s boats, and they began their voyage. It was the
latter end of the dry season, the worst time for such an expedition; the
river was consequently low. Indians were sent forward through narrow
channels between shoals and sandbanks, and the men were frequently obliged
to quit the boats and exert their utmost strength to drag or thrust them
along. This labour continued for several days; when they came into deeper
water, they had then currents and rapids to contend with, which would have
been insurmountable but for the skill of the Indians in such difficulties.
The brunt of the labour was borne by them and by the sailors—men
never accustomed to stand aloof when any exertion of strength or hardihood
is required. The soldiers, less accustomed to rely upon themselves, were
of little use. But all equally endured the violent heat of the sun,
rendered more intense by being reflected from the white shoals; while the
high woods, on both sides of the river, were frequently so close as to
prevent any refreshing circulation of air; and during the night all were
equally exposed to the heavy and unwholesome dews.

On the 9th of April they reached an island in the river, called San
Bartolomeo, which the Spaniards had fortified, as an outpost, with a small
semicircular battery, mounting nine or ten swivels, and manned with
sixteen or eighteen men. It commanded the river in a rapid and difficult
part of the navigation. Nelson, at the head of a few of his seamen, leaped
upon the beach. The ground upon which he sprung was so muddy that he had
some difficulty in extricating himself, and lost his shoes: bare-footed,
however, he advanced, and, in his own phrase, BOARDED THE BATTERY. In this
resolute attempt he was bravely supported by Despard, at that time a
captain in the army, afterward unhappily executed for his schemes of
revolutionary treason. The castle of San Tuan is situated about 16 miles
higher up; the stores and ammunition, however, were landed a few miles
below the castle, and the men had to march through woods almost
impassable. One of the men was bitten under the eye by a snake which
darted upon him from the bough of a tree. He was unable to proceed from
the violence of the pain; and when, after a short while, some of his
comrades were sent back to assist him, he was dead, and the body already
putrid. Nelson himself narrowly escaped a similar fate. He had ordered his
hammock to be slung under some trees, being excessively fatigued, and was
sleeping, when a monitory lizard passed across his face. The Indians
happily observed the reptile; and knowing what it indicated, awoke him. He
started up, and found one of the deadliest serpents of the country coiled
up at his feet. He suffered from poison of another kind; for drinking at a
spring in which some boughs of the manchineel had been thrown, the effects
were so severe as, in the opinion of some of his friends, to inflict a
lasting injury upon his constitution.

The castle of San Juan is 32 miles below the point where the river issues
from the Lake of Nicaragua, and 69 from its mouth. Boats reach the sea
from thence in a day and a-half; but their navigation back, even when
unladen, is the labour of nine days. The English appeared before it on the
11th, two days after they had taken San Bartolomeo. Nelson’s advice was,
that it should instantly be carried by assault; but Nelson was not the
commander; and it was thought proper to observe all the formalities of a
siege. Ten days were wasted before this could be commenced. It was a work
more of fatigue than of danger; but fatigue was more to be dreaded than
the enemy; the rains set in; and could the garrison have held out a little
longer, diseases would have rid them of their invaders. Even the Indians
sunk under it, the victims of unusual exertion, and of their own excesses.
The place surrendered on the 24th. But victory procured to the conquerors
none of that relief which had been expected; the castle was worse than a
prison; and it contained nothing which could contribute to the recovery of
the sick, or the preservation of those who were yet unaffected. The huts
which served for hospitals were surrounded with filth, and with the
putrefying hides of slaughtered cattle—almost sufficient of
themselves to have engendered pestilence; and when at last orders were
given to erect a convenient hospital, the contagion had become so general
that there were none who could work at it; for besides the few who were
able to perform garrison duty, there were not orderly men enough to assist
the sick. Added to these evils, there was the want of all needful
remedies; for though the expedition had been amply provided with hospital
stores, river craft enough had not been procured for transporting the
requisite baggage; and when much was to be left behind, provision for
sickness was that which of all things men in health would be most ready to
leave. Now, when these medicines were required, the river was swollen, and
so turbulent that its upward navigation was almost impracticable. At
length even the task of burying the dead was more than the living could
perform, and the bodies were tossed into the stream, or left for beasts of
prey, and for the gallinazos—those dreadful carrion birds, which do
not always wait for death before they begin their work. Five months the
English persisted in what may be called this war against nature; they then
left a few men, who seemed proof against the climate, to retain the castle
till the Spaniards should choose to retake it and make them prisoners. The
rest abandoned their baleful conquest. Eighteen hundred men were sent to
different posts upon this wretched expedition: not more than three hundred
and eighty ever returned. The HINCHINBROOK’s complement consisted of two
hundred men; eighty-seven took to their beds in one night, and of the
whole crew not more than ten survived.

The transports’ men all died, and some of the ships, having none left to
take care of them, sunk in the harbour: but transport ships were not
wanted, for the troops which they had brought were no more: they had
fallen, not by the hand of an enemy, but by the deadly influence of the
climate.

Nelson himself was saved by a timely removal. In a few days after the
commencement of the siege he was seized with the prevailing dysentery;
meantime Captain Glover (son of the author of LEONIDAS) died, and Nelson
was appointed to succeed him in the Janus, of forty-four guns; Collingwood
being then made post into the HINCHINBROOK. He returned to the harbour the
day before San Juan surrendered, and immediately sailed for Jamaica in the
sloop which brought the news of his appointment. He was, however, so
greatly reduced by the disorder, that when they reached Port Royal he was
carried ashore in his cot; and finding himself, after a partial amendment,
unable to retain the command of his new ship, he was compelled to ask
leave to return to England, as the only means of recovery. Captain
(afterwards Admiral) Cornwallis took him home in the LION; and to his fare
and kindness Nelson believed himself indebted for his life. He went
immediately to Bath, in a miserable state; so helpless that he was carried
to and from his bed; and the act of moving him produced the most violent
pain. In three months he recovered, and immediately hastened to London,
and applied for employment. After an interval of about four months he was
appointed to the ALBEMARLE, of twenty-eight guns, a French merchantman
which had been purchased from the captors for the king’s service.

His health was not yet thoroughly re-established; and while he was
employed in getting his ship ready, he again became so ill as hardly to be
able to keep out of bed. Yet in this state, still suffering from the fatal
effect of a West Indian climate, as if it might almost be supposed, he
said, to try his constitution, he was sent to the North Seas, and kept
there the whole winter. The asperity with which he mentioned this so many
years afterwards evinces how deeply he resented a mode of conduct equally
cruel to the individual and detrimental to the service. It was during the
armed neutrality; and when they anchored off Elsinore, the Danish Admiral
sent on board, desiring to be informed what ships had arrived, and to have
their force written down. “The ALBEMARLE,” said Nelson to the messenger,
“is one of his Britannic Majesty’s ships: you are at liberty, sir, to
count the guns as you go down the side; and you may assure the Danish
Admiral that, if necessary, they shall all be well served.” During this
voyage he gained a considerable knowledge of the Danish coast and its
soundings, greatly to the advantage of his country in after-times. The
ALBEMARLE was not a good ship, and was several times nearly overset in
consequence of the masts having been made much too long for her. On her
return to England they were shortened, and some other improvements made at
Nelson’s suggestion. Still he always insisted that her first owners, the
French, had taught her to run away, as she was never a good sailer except
when going directly before the wind.

On their return to the Downs, while he was ashore visiting the senior
officer, there came on so heavy a gale that almost all the vessels drove,
and a store-ship came athwart-hawse of the ALBEMARLE. Nelson feared she
would drive on the Goodwin Sands; he ran to the beach; but even the Deal
boatmen thought it impossible to get on board, such was the violence of
the storm. At length some of the most intrepid offered to make the attempt
for fifteen guineas; and to the astonishment and fear of all the
beholders, he embarked during the height of the tempest. With great
difficulty and imminent danger he succeeded in reaching her. She lost her
bowsprit and foremast, but escaped further injury. He was now ordered to
Quebec, where his surgeon told him he would certainly be laid up by the
climate. Many of his friends urged him to represent this to Admiral
Keppel; but having received his orders from Lord Sandwich, there appeared
to him an indelicacy in applying to his successor to have them altered.

Accordingly he sailed for Canada. During her first cruise on that station
the ALBEMARLE captured a fishing schooner which contained in her cargo
nearly all the property that her master possessed, and the poor fellow had
a large family at home, anxiously expecting him. Nelson employed him as a
pilot in Boston Bay, then restored him the schooner and cargo, and gave
him a certificate to secure him against being captured by any other
vessel. The man came off afterwards to the ALBEMARLE, at the hazard of his
life, with a present of sheep, poultry, and fresh provisions. A most
valuable supply it proved, for the scurvy was raging on board: this was in
the middle of August, and the ship’s company had not had a fresh meal
since the beginning of April. The certificate was preserved at Boston in
memory of an act of unusual generosity; and now that the fame of Nelson
has given interest to everything connected with his name, it is regarded
as a relic. The ALBEMARLE had a narrow escape upon this cruise. Four
French sail of the line and a frigate, which had come out of Boston
harbour, gave chase to her; and Nelson, perceiving that they beat him in
sailing, boldly ran among the numerous shoals of St. George’s Bank,
confiding in his own skill in pilotage. Captain Salter, in the STA.
MARGARETTA, had escaped the French fleet by a similar manoeuvre not long
before. The frigate alone continued warily to pursue him; but as soon as
he perceived that this enemy was unsupported, he shortened sail and hove
to; upon which the Frenchman thought it advisable to give over the
pursuit, and sail in quest of his consorts.

At Quebec Nelson became acquainted with Alexander Davison, by whose
interference he was prevented from making what would have been called an
imprudent marriage. The ALBEMARLE was about to leave the station, her
captain had taken leave of his friends, and was gone down the river to the
place of anchorage; when the next morning, as Davison was walking on the
beach, to his surprise he saw Nelson coming back in his boat. Upon
inquiring the cause of this reappearance, Nelson took his arm to walk
towards the town, and told him that he found it utterly impossible to
leave Quebec without again seeing the woman whose society had contributed
so much to his happiness there, and offering her his hand. “If you do,”
said his friend, “your ruin must inevitably follow.” “Then let it follow,”
cried Nelson, “for I am resolved to do it” “And I,” replied Davison, “am
resolved you shall not.” Nelson, however, upon this occasion, was less
resolute than his friend, and suffered himself to be led back to the boat.

The ALBEMARLE was under orders to convoy a fleet of transports to New
York. “A very pretty job” said her captain, “at this late season of the
year” (October was far advanced), “for our sails are at this moment frozen
to the yards.” On his arrival at Sandy Hook, he waited on the
commander-in-chief, Admiral Digby, who told him he was come on a fine
station for making prize-money. “Yes, sir,” Nelson made answer, “but the
West Indies is the station for honour.” Lord Hood, with a detachment of
Rodney’s victorious fleet, was at that time at Sandy Hook: he had been
intimate with Captain Suckling; and Nelson, who was desirous of nothing
but honour, requested him to ask for the ALBEMARLE, that he might go to
that station where it was most likely to be obtained. Admiral Digby
reluctantly parted with him. His professional merit was already well
known; and Lord Hood, on introducing him to Prince William Henry, as the
Duke of Clarence was then called, told the prince, if he wished to ask any
questions respecting naval tactics, Captain Nelson could give him as much
information as any officer in the fleet. The Duke—who, to his own
honour, became from that time the firm friend of Nelson—describes
him as appearing the merest boy of a captain he had ever seen, dressed in
a full laced uniform, an old-fashioned waistcoat with long flaps, and his
lank unpowdered hair tied in a stiff Hessian tail of extraordinary length;
making altogether so remarkable a figure, that, says the duke, “I had
never seen anything like it before, nor could I imagine who he was, nor
what he came about. But his address and conversation were irresistibly
pleasing; and when he spoke on professional subjects, it was with an
enthusiasm that showed he was no common being.”

It was expected that the French would attempt some of the passages between
the Bahamas; and Lord Hood, thinking of this, said to Nelson, “I suppose,
sir, from the length of time you were cruising among the Bahama Keys, you
must be a good pilot there.” He replied, with that constant readiness to
render justice to every man which was so conspicuous in all his conduct
through life, that he was well acquainted with them himself, but that in
that respect his second lieutenant was far his superior. The French got
into Puerto Cabello, on the coast of Venezuela. Nelson was cruising
between that port and La Guapra, under French colours, for the purpose of
obtaining information; when a king’s launch, belonging to the Spaniards,
passed near, and being hailed in French, came alongside without suspicion,
and answered all questions that were asked concerning the number and force
of the enemy’s ships. The crew, however, were not a little surprised when
they were taken on board and found themselves prisoners. One of the party
went by the name of the Count de Deux-Ponts. He was, however, a prince of
the German empire, and brother to the heir of the Electorate of Bavaria:
his companions were French officers of distinction, and men of science,
who had been collecting specimens in the various branches of natural
history. Nelson, having entertained them with the best his table could
afford, told them they were at liberty to depart with their boat, and all
that it contained: he only required them to promise that they would
consider themselves as prisoners if the commander-in-chief should refuse
to acquiesce in their being thus liberated: a circumstance which was not
likely to happen. Tidings soon arrived that the preliminaries of peace had
been signed; and the ALBEMARLE returned to England and was paid off.
Nelson’s first business, after he got to London, even before he went to
see his relations, was to attempt to get the wages due to his men for the
various ships in which they had served during the war. “The disgust of
seamen to the navy,” he said, “was all owing to the infernal plan of
turning them over from ship to ship; so that men could not be attached to
their officers, nor the officers care the least about the men.” Yet he
himself was so beloved by his men that his whole ship’s company offered,
if he could get a ship, to enter for her immediately. He was now, for the
first time, presented at court. After going through this ceremony, he
dined with his friend Davison at Lincoln’s Inn. As soon as he entered the
chambers, he threw off what he called his iron-bound coat; and, putting
himself at ease in a dressing gown, passed the remainder of the day in
talking over all that had befallen them since they parted on the shore of
the River St. Lawrence.

CHAPTER II

1784 – 1793

Nelson goes to France—Reappointed to the BOREAS at the Leeward
Islands in the BOREAS—His firm conduct concerning the American
Interlopers and the Contractors—Marries and returns to England—Is
on the point of quitting the Service in Disgust—Manner of Life while
unemployed—Appointed to the AGAMEMNON on the breaking out of the War
of the French Revolution.

“I HAVE closed the war,” said Nelson in one of his letters, “without a
fortune; but there is not a speck in my character. True honour, I hope,
predominates in my mind far above riches.” He did not apply for a ship,
because he was not wealthy enough to live on board in the manner which was
then become customary. Finding it, therefore, prudent to economise on his
half-pay during the peace, he went to France, in company with Captain
Macnamara of the navy, and took lodgings at St. Omer’s. The death of his
favourite sister, Anne, who died in consequence of going out of the
ball-room at Bath when heated with dancing, affected his father so much
that it had nearly occasioned him to return in a few weeks. Time, however,
and reason and religion, overcame this grief in the old man; and Nelson
continued at St. Omer’s long enough to fall in love with the daughter of
an English clergyman. This second attachment appears to have been less
ardent than the first, for upon weighing the evils of a straitened income
to a married man, he thought it better to leave France, assigning to his
friends something in his accounts as the cause. This prevented him from
accepting an invitation from the Count of Deux-Ponts to visit him at
Paris, couched in the handsomest terms of acknowledgment for the treatment
which he had received on board the ALBEMARLE.

The self-constraint which Nelson exerted in subduing this attachment made
him naturally desire to be at sea; and when, upon visiting Lord Howe at
the Admiralty, he was asked if he wished to be employed, he made answer
that he did. Accordingly in March, he was appointed to the BOREAS,
twenty-eight guns, going to the Leeward Islands as a cruiser on the peace
establishment. Lady Hughes and her family went out with him to Admiral Sir
Richard Hughes, who commanded on that station. His ship was full of young
midshipmen, of whom there were not less than thirty on board; and happy
were they whose lot it was to be placed with such a captain. If he
perceived that a boy was afraid at first going aloft, he would say to him
in a friendly manner, “Well, sir, I am going a race to the mast-head, and
beg that I may meet you there.” The poor little fellow instantly began to
climb, and got up how he could,—Nelson never noticed in what manner,
but when they met in the top, spoke cheerfully to him, and would say how
much any person was to be pitied who fancied that getting up was either
dangerous or difficult. Every day he went into the school-room to see that
they were pursuing their nautical studies; and at noon he was always the
first on deck with his quadrant. Whenever he paid a visit of ceremony,
some of these youths accompanied him; and when he went to dine with the
governor at Barbadoes, he took one of them in his hand, and presented him,
saying, “Your Excellency must excuse me for bringing one of my midshipmen.
I make it a rule to introduce them to all the good company I can, as they
have few to look up to, besides myself, during the time they are at sea.”

When Nelson arrived in the West Indies, he found himself senior captain,
and consequently second in command on that station. Satisfactory as this
was, it soon involved him in a dispute with the admiral, which a man less
zealous for the service might have avoided. He found the LATONA in English
Harbour, Antigua, with a broad pendant hoisted; and upon inquiring the
reason, was presented with a written order from Sir R. Hughes, requiring
and directing him to obey the orders of Resident Commissioner Moutray
during the time he might have occasion to remain there; the said resident
commissioner being in consequence, authorised to hoist a broad pendant on
board any of his Majesty’s ships in that port that he might think proper.
Nelson was never at a loss how to act in any emergency.

“I know of no superior officers,” said he, “besides the Lords
Commissioners of the Admiralty, and my seniors on the post list.”
Concluding, therefore, that it was not consistent with the service for a
resident commissioner, who held only a civil situation, to hoist a broad
pendant, the moment that he had anchored he sent an order to the captain
of the LATONA to strike it, and return it to the dock-yard. He went on
shore the same day, dined with the commissioner, to show him that he was
actuated by no other motive than a sense of duty, and gave him the first
intelligence that his pendant had been struck. Sir Richard sent an account
of this to the Admiralty; but the case could admit of no doubt, and
Captain Nelson’s conduct was approved.

He displayed the same promptitude on another occasion. While the BOREAS,
after the hurricane months were over, was riding at anchor in Nevis Roads,
a French frigate passed to leeward, close along shore. Nelson had obtained
information that this ship was sent from Martinico, with two general
officers and some engineers on board, to make a survey of our sugar
islands. This purpose he was determined to prevent them from executing,
and therefore he gave orders to follow them. The next day he came up with
them at anchor in the roads of St. Eustatia, and anchored at about two
cables’ length on the frigate’s quarter. Being afterwards invited by the
Dutch governor to meet the French officers at dinner, he seized that
occasion of assuring the French captain that, understanding it was his
intention to honour the British possessions with a visit, he had taken the
earliest opportunity in his power to accompany him, in his Majesty’s ship
the BOREAS, in order that such attention might be paid to the officers of
his Most Christian Majesty as every Englishman in the islands would be
proud to show. The French, with equal courtesy, protested against giving
him this trouble; especially, they said, as they intended merely to cruise
round the islands without landing on any. But Nelson, with the utmost
politeness, insisted upon paying them this compliment, followed them close
in spite of all their attempts to elude his vigilance, and never lost
sight of them; till, finding it impossible either to deceive or escape
him, they gave up their treacherous purpose in despair, and beat up for
Martinico.

A business of more serious import soon engaged his attention. The
Americans were at this time trading with our islands, taking advantage of
the register of their ships, which had been issued while they were British
subjects. Nelson knew that, by the Navigation Act, no foreigners, directly
or indirectly, are permitted to carry on any trade with these possessions.
He knew, also, that the Americans had made themselves foreigners with
regard to England; they had disregarded the ties of blood and language
when they acquired the independence which they had been led on to claim,
unhappily for themselves before they were fit for it; and he was resolved
that they should derive no profit from those ties now. Foreigners they had
made themselves, and as foreigners they were to be treated. “If once,”
said he, “they are admitted to any kind of intercourse with our islands,
the views of the loyalists, in settling at Nova Scotia, are entirely done
away; and when we are again embroiled in a French war, the Americans will
first become the carriers of these colonies, and then have possession of
them. Here they come, sell their cargoes for ready money, go to Martinico,
buy molasses, and so round and round. The loyalist cannot do this, and
consequently must sell a little dearer. The residents here are Americans
by connection and by interest, and are inimical to Great Britain. They are
as great rebels as ever were in America, had they the power to show it.”
In November, when the squadron, having arrived at Barbadoes, was to
separate, with no other orders than those for examining anchorages, and
the usual inquiries concerning wood and water, Nelson asked his friend
Collingwood, then captain of the MEDIATOR, whose opinions he knew upon the
subject, to accompany him to the commander-in-chief, whom he then
respectfully asked, whether they were not to attend to the commerce of the
country, and see that the Navigation Act was respected—that
appearing to him to be the intent of keeping men-of-war upon this station
in time of peace? Sir Richard Hughes replied, he had no particular orders,
neither had the Admiralty sent him any Acts of Parliament. But Nelson made
answer, that the Navigation Act was included in the statutes of the
Admiralty, with which every captain was furnished, and that Act was
directed to admirals, captains, &c., to see it carried into execution.
Sir Richard said he had never seen the book. Upon this Nelson produced the
statutes, read the words of the Act, and apparently convinced the
commander-in-chief, that men-of-war, as he said, “were sent abroad for
some other purpose than to be made a show of.” Accordingly orders were
given to enforce the Navigation Act.

Major-General Sir Thomas Shirley was at this time governor of the Leeward
Islands; and when Nelson waited on him, to inform him how he intended to
act, and upon what grounds, he replied, that “old generals were not in the
habit of taking advice from young gentlemen.” “Sir,” said the young
officer, with that confidence in himself which never carried him too far,
and always was equal to the occasion, “I am as old as the prime minister
of England, and I think myself as capable of commanding one of his
Majesty’s ships as that minister is of governing the state.” He was
resolved to do his duty, whatever might be the opinion or conduct of
others; and when he arrived upon his station at St. Kitt’s, he sent away
all the Americans, not choosing to seize them before they had been well
apprised that the Act would be carried into effect, lest it might seem as
if a trap had been laid for them. The Americans, though they prudently
decamped from St. Kitt’s, were emboldened by the support they met with,
and resolved to resist his orders, alleging that king’s ships had no legal
power to seize them without having deputations from the customs. The
planters were to a man against him; the governors and the presidents of
the different islands, with only a single exception, gave him no support;
and the admiral, afraid to act on either side, yet wishing to oblige the
planters, sent him a note, advising him to be guided by the wishes of the
president of the council. There was no danger in disregarding this, as it
came unofficially, and in the form of advice. But scarcely a month after
he had shown Sir Richard Hughes the law, and, as he supposed, satisfied
him concerning it, he received an order from him, stating that he had now
obtained good advice upon the point, and the Americans were not to be
hindered from coming, and having free egress and regress, if the governor
chose to permit them. An order to the same purport had been sent round to
the different governors and presidents; and General Shirley and others
informed him, in an authoritative manner, that they chose to admit
American ships, as the commander-in-chief had left the decision to them.
These persons, in his own words, he soon “trimmed up, and silenced;” but
it was a more delicate business to deal with the admiral: “I must either,”
said he, “disobey my orders, or disobey Acts of Parliament. I determined
upon the former, trusting to the uprightness of my intentions, and
believing that my country would not let me be ruined for protecting her
commerce.” With this determination he wrote to Sir Richard; appealed again
to the plain, literal, unequivocal sense of the Navigation Act; and in
respectful language told him, he felt it his duty to decline obeying these
orders till he had an opportunity of seeing and conversing with him. Sir
Richard’s first feeling was that of anger, and he was about to supersede
Nelson; but having mentioned the affair to his captain, that officer told
him he believed all the squadron thought the orders illegal, and therefore
did not know how far they were bound to obey them. It was impossible,
therefore, to bring Nelson to a court-martial, composed of men who agreed
with him in opinion upon the point in dispute; and luckily, though the
admiral wanted vigour of mind to decide upon what was right, he was not
obstinate in wrong, and had even generosity enough in his nature to thank
Nelson afterwards for having shown him his error.

Collingwood in the MEDIATOR, and his brother, Wilfred Collingwood, in the
RATTLER, actively co-operated with Nelson. The custom-houses were informed
that after a certain day all foreign vessels found in the ports would be
seized; and many were, in consequence, seized, and condemned in the
Admiralty Court. When the BOREAS arrived at Nevis, she found four American
vessels deeply laden, and what are called the island colours flying—white,
with a red cross. They were ordered to hoist their proper flag, and depart
within 48 hours; but they refused to obey, denying that they were
Americans. Some of their crews were then examined in Nelson’s cabin, where
the Judge of Admiralty happened to be present. The case was plain; they
confessed that they were Americans, and that the ships, hull and cargo,
were wholly American property; upon which he seized them. This raised a
storm: the planters, the custom-house, and the governor, were all against
him. Subscriptions were opened, and presently filled, for the purpose of
carrying on the cause in behalf of the American captains; and the admiral,
whose flag was at that time in the roads, stood neutral. But the Americans
and their abettors were not content with defensive law. The marines, whom
he had sent to secure the ships, had prevented some of the masters from
going ashore; and those persons, by whose depositions it appeared that the
vessels and cargoes were American property, declared that they had given
their testimony under bodily fear, for that a man with a drawn sword in
his hand had stood over them the whole time. A rascally lawyer, whom the
party employed, suggested this story; and as the sentry at the cabin door
was a man with a drawn sword, the Americans made no scruple of swearing to
this ridiculous falsehood, and commencing prosecutions against him
accordingly. They laid their damages at the enormous amount of L40,000;
and Nelson was obliged to keep close on board his own ship, lest he should
be arrested for a sum for which it would have been impossible to find
bail. The marshal frequently came on board to arrest him, but was always
prevented by the address of the first lieutenant, Mr. Wallis. Had he been
taken, such was the temper of the people that it was certain he would have
been cast for the whole sum. One of his officers, one day, in speaking of
the restraint which he was thus compelled to suffer, happened to use the
word PITY! “Pity!” exclaimed Nelson: “Pity! did you say? I shall live,
sir, to be envied! and to that point I shall always direct my course.”
Eight weeks remained in this state of duresse. During that time the trial
respecting the detained ships came on in the court of Admiralty. He went
on shore under a protection for the day from the judge; but,
notwithstanding this, the marshal was called upon to take that opportunity
of arresting him, and the merchants promised to indemnify him for so
doing. The judge, however, did his duty, and threatened to send the
marshal to prison if he attempted to violate the protection of the court.
Mr. Herbert, the president of Nevis, behaved with singular generosity upon
this occasion. Though no man was a greater sufferer by the measures which
Nelson had pursued, he offered in court to become his bail for L10,000 if
he chose to suffer the arrest. The lawyer whom he had chosen proved to be
an able as well as an honest man; and notwithstanding the opinions and
pleadings of most of the counsel of the different islands, who maintained
that ships of war were not justified in seizing American vessels without a
deputation from the customs, the law was so explicit, the case so clear,
and Nelson pleaded his own cause so well, that the four ships were
condemned. During the progress of this business he sent a memorial home to
the king, in consequence of which orders were issued that he should be
defended at the expense of the crown. And upon the representation which he
made at the same time to the Secretary of State, and the suggestions with
which he accompanied it, the Register Act was framed. The sanction of
Government, and the approbation of his conduct which it implied, were
highly gratifying to him; but he was offended, and not without just cause,
that the Treasury should have transmitted thanks to the commander-in-chief
for his activity and zeal in protecting the commerce of Great Britain.
“Had they known all,” said he, “I do not think they would have bestowed
thanks in that quarter, and neglected me. I feel much hurt that, after the
loss of health and risk of fortune, another should be thanked for what I
did against his orders. I either deserved to be sent out of the service,
or at least to have had some little notice taken of what I had done. They
have thought it worthy of notice, and yet have neglected me. If this is
the reward for a faithful discharge of my duty, I shall be careful, and
never stand forward again. But I have done my duty, and have nothing to
accuse myself of.”

The anxiety which he had suffered from the harassing uncertainties of law
is apparent from these expressions. He had, however, something to console
him, for he was at this time wooing the niece of his friend the president,
then in her eighteenth year, the widow of Dr. Nisbet, a physician. She had
one child, a son, by name Josiah, who was three years old. One day Mr.
Herbert, who had hastened half-dressed to receive Nelson, exclaimed, on
returning to his dressing-room, “Good God! if I did not find that great
little man, of whom everybody is so afraid, playing in the next room,
under the dining-table, with Mrs. Nisbet’s child!” A few days afterwards
Mrs. Nisbet herself was first introduced to him, and thanked him for the
partiality which he had shown to her little boy. Her manners were mild and
winning; and the captain, whose heart was easily susceptible of
attachment, found no such imperious necessity for subduing his
inclinations as had twice before withheld him from marrying. They were
married on March 11, 1787: Prince William Henry, who had come out to the
West Indies the preceding winter, being present, by his own desire, to
give away the bride. Mr. Herbert, her uncle, was at this time so much
displeased with his only daughter, that he had resolved to disinherit her,
and leave his whole fortune, which was very great, to his niece. But
Nelson, whose nature was too noble to let him profit by an act of
injustice, interfered, and succeeded in reconciling the president to his
child.

“Yesterday,” said one of his naval friends the day after the wedding, “the
navy lost one of its greatest ornaments by Nelson’s marriage. It is a
national loss that such an officer should marry: had it not been for this,
Nelson would have become the greatest man in the service.” The man was
rightly estimated; but he who delivered this opinion did not understand
the effect of domestic love and duty upon a mind of the true heroic stamp.

“We are often separate,” said Nelson, in a letter to Mrs. Nisbet a few
months before their marriage; “but our affections are not by any means on
that account diminished. Our country has the first demand for our
services; and private convenience or happiness must ever give way to the
public good. Duty is the great business of a sea officer: all private
considerations must give way to it, however painful.” “Have you not often
heard,” says he in another letter, “that salt water and absence always
wash away love? Now I am such a heretic as not to believe that article,
for, behold, every morning I have had six pails of salt water poured upon
my head, and instead of finding what seamen say to be true, it goes on so
contrary to the prescription, that you may, perhaps, see me before the
fixed time.” More frequently his correspondence breathed a deeper strain.
“To write letters to you,” says he, “is the next greatest pleasure I feel
to receiving them from you. What I experience when I read such as I am
sure are the pure sentiments of your heart, my poor pen cannot express;
nor, indeed, would I give much for any pen or head which could express
feelings of that kind. Absent from you, I feel no pleasure: it is you who
are everything to me. Without you, I care not for this world; for I have
found, lately, nothing in it but vexation and trouble. These are my
present sentiments. God Almighty grant they may never change! Nor do I
think they will. Indeed there is, as far as human knowledge can judge, a
moral certainty that they cannot; for it must be real affection that
brings us together, not interest or compulsion.” Such were the feelings,
and such the sense of duty, with which Nelson became a husband.

During his stay upon this station he had ample opportunity of observing
the scandalous practices of the contractors, prize-agents, and other
persons in the West Indies connected with the naval service. When he was
first left with the command, and bills were brought him to sign for money
which was owing for goods purchased for the navy, he required the original
voucher, that he might examine whether those goods had been really
purchased at the market price; but to produce vouchers would not have been
convenient, and therefore was not the custom. Upon this Nelson wrote to
Sir Charles Middleton, then Comptroller of the Navy, representing the
abuses which were likely to be practised in this manner. The answer which
he received seemed to imply that the old forms were thought sufficient;
and thus, having no alternative, he was compelled, with his eyes open, to
submit to a practice originating in fraudulent intentions. Soon afterwards
two Antigua merchants informed him that they were privy to great frauds
which had been committed upon government in various departments; at
Antigua, to the amount of nearly L500,000; at Lucie, L300,000; at
Barbadoes, L250,000; at Jamaica, upwards of a million. The informers were
both shrewd sensible men of business; they did not affect to be actuated
by a sense of justice, but required a percentage upon so much as
government should actually recover through their means. Nelson examined
the books and papers which they produced, and was convinced that
government had been most infamously plundered. Vouchers, he found, in that
country, were no check whatever: the principle was, that “a thing was
always worth what it would bring;” and the merchants were in the habit of
signing vouchers for each other, without even the appearance of looking at
the articles. These accounts he sent home to the different departments
which had been defrauded; but the peculators were too powerful, and they
succeeded not merely in impeding inquiry, but even in raising prejudices
against Nelson at the Board of Admiralty, which it was many years before
he could subdue.

Owing probably, to these prejudices, and the influence of the peculators,
he was treated, on his return to England, in a manner which had nearly
driven him from the service. During the three years that the BOREAS had
remained upon a station which is usually so fatal, not a single officer or
man of her whole complement had died. This almost unexampled instance of
good health, though mostly, no doubt, imputable to a healthy season, must
in some measure, also, be ascribed to the wise conduct of the captain. He
never suffered the ships to remain more than three or four weeks at a time
at any of the islands; and when the hurricane months confined him to
English Harbour, he encouraged all kinds of useful amusements—music,
dancing, and cudgelling among the men; theatricals among the officers;
anything which could employ their attention, and keep their spirits
cheerful. The BOREAS arrived in England in June. Nelson, who had many
times been supposed to be consumptive when in the West Indies, and perhaps
was saved from consumption by that climate, was still in a precarious
state of health; and the raw wet weather of one of our ungenial summers
brought on cold, and sore throat, and fever; yet his vessel was kept at
the Nore from the end of June till the end of November, serving as a slop
and receiving ship. This unworthy treatment, which more probably proceeded
from inattention than from neglect, excited in Nelson the strongest
indignation. During the whole five months he seldom or never quitted the
ship, but carried on the duty with strict and sullen attention. On the
morning when orders were received to prepare the BOREAS for being paid
off, he expressed his joy to the senior officer in the Medway, saying, “It
will release me for ever from an ungrateful service; for it is my firm and
unalterable determination never again to set my foot on board a king’s
ship. Immediately after my arrival in town I shall wait on the First Lord
of the Admiralty, and resign my commission.” The officer to whom he thus
communicated his intentions behaved in the wisest and most friendly
manner; for finding it in vain to dissuade him in his present state of
feeling, he secretly interfered with the First Lord to save him from a
step so injurious to himself, little foreseeing how deeply the welfare and
honour of England were at that moment at stake. This interference produced
a letter from Lord Howe the day before the ship was paid off, intimating a
wish to see Captain Nelson as soon as he arrived in town; when, being
pleased with his conversation, and perfectly convinced, by what was then
explained to him, of the propriety of his conduct, he desired that he
might present him to the king on the first levee-day; and the gracious
manner in which Nelson was then received effectually removed his
resentment.

Prejudices had been, in like manner, excited against his friend, Prince
William Henry. “Nothing is wanting, sir,” said Nelson, in one of his
letters, “to make you the darling of the English nation but truth. Sorry
am I to say, much to the contrary has been dispersed.” This was not
flattery, for Nelson was no flatterer. The letter in which this passage
occurs shows in how wise and noble a manner he dealt with the prince. One
of his royal highness’s officers had applied for a court-martial upon a
point in which he was unquestionably wrong. His royal highness, however,
while he supported his own character and authority, prevented the trial,
which must have been injurious to a brave and deserving man. “Now that you
are parted,” said Nelson, “pardon me, my prince, when I presume to
recommend that he may stand in your royal favour as if he had never sailed
with you, and that at some future day you will serve him. There only wants
this to place your conduct in the highest point of view. None of us are
without failings—his was being rather too hasty; but that, put in
competition with his being a good officer, will not, I am bold to say, be
taken in the scale against him. More able friends than myself your royal
highness may easily find, and of more consequence in the state; but one
more attached and affectionate is not so easily met with: Princes seldom,
very seldom, find a disinterested person to communicate their thoughts to:
I do not pretend to be that person; but of this be assured, by a man who,
I trust, never did a dishonourable act, that I am interested only that
your royal highness should be the greatest and best man this country ever
produced.”

Encouraged by the conduct of Lord Howe, and by his reception at court,
Nelson renewed his attack upon the peculators with fresh spirit. He had
interviews with Mr. Rose, Mr. Pitt, and Sir Charles Middleton, to all of
whom he satisfactorily proved his charges. In consequence, if is said,
these very extensive public frauds were at length put in a proper train to
be provided against in future; his representations were attended to; and
every step which he recommended was adopted; the investigation was put
into a proper course, which ended in the detection and punishment of some
of the culprits; an immense saving was made to government, and thus its
attention was directed to similar peculations in other arts of the
colonies. But it is said also that no mark of commendation seems to have
been bestowed upon Nelson for his exertion. It has been justly remarked
that the spirit of the navy cannot be preserved so effectually by the
liberal honours bestowed on officers when they are worn out in the
service, as by an attention to those who, like Nelson at this part of his
life, have only their integrity and zeal to bring them into notice. A
junior officer, who had been left with the command at Jamaica, received an
additional allowance, for which Nelson had applied in vain. Double pay was
allowed to every artificer and seaman employed in the naval yard: Nelson
had superintended the whole business of that yard with the most rigid
exactness, and he complained that he was neglected. “It was most true,” he
said, “that the trouble which he took to detect the fraudulent practices
then carried on was no more than his duty; but he little thought that the
expenses attending his frequent journeys to St. John’s upon that duty (a
distance of twelve miles) would have fallen upon his pay as captain of the
BOREAS.” Nevertheless, the sense of what he thought unworthy usage did not
diminish his zeal. “I,” said he, “must buffet the waves in search of—What?
Alas! that they called honour is thought of no more. My fortune, God
knows, has grown worse for the service; so much for serving my country!
But the devil, ever willing to tempt the virtuous, has made me offer, if
any ships should be sent to destroy his Majesty of Morocco’s ports, to be
there; and I have some reason to think that, should any more come of it,
my humble services will be accepted. I have invariably laid down, and
followed close, a plan of what ought to be uppermost in the breast of an
officer,—that it is much better to serve an ungrateful country than
to give up his own fame. Posterity will do him justice. A uniform course
of honour and integrity seldom fails of bringing a man to the goal of fame
at last.”

The design against the Barbary pirates, like all other designs against
them, was laid aside; and Nelson took his wife to his father’s parsonage,
meaning only to pay him a visit before they went to France; a project
which he had formed for the sake of acquiring a competent knowledge of the
French language. But his father could not bear to lose him thus
unnecessarily. Mr. Nelson had long been an invalid, suffering under
paralytic and asthmatic affections, which, for several hours after he rose
in the morning, scarcely permitted him to speak. He had been given over by
his physicians for this complaint nearly forty years before his death; and
was, for many of his latter years, obliged to spend all his winters at
Bath. The sight of his son, he declared, had given him new life. “But,
Horatio,” said he, “it would have been better that I had not been thus
cheered, if I am so soon to be bereaved of you again. Let me, my good son,
see you whilst I can. My age and infirmities increase, and I shall not
last long.” To such an appeal there could be no reply. Nelson took up his
abode at the parsonage, and amused himself with the sports and occupations
of the country. Sometimes he busied himself with farming the glebe;
sometimes spent the greater part of the day in the garden, where he would
dig as if for the mere pleasure of wearying himself. Sometimes he went a
birds’-nesting, like a boy; and in these expeditions Mrs. Nelson always,
by his expressed desire, accompanied him. Coursing was his favourite
amusement. Shooting, as he practised it, was far too dangerous for his
companions; for he carried his gun upon the full cock, as if he were going
to board an enemy; and the moment a bird rose, he let fly without ever
putting the fowling-piece to his shoulder. It is not, therefore,
extraordinary that his having once shot a partridge should be remembered
by his family among the remarkable events of his life.

But his time did not pass away thus without some vexatious cares to ruffle
it. The affair of the American ships was not yet over, and he was again
pestered with threats of prosecution. “I have written them word,” said he,
“that I will have nothing to do with them, and they must act as they think
proper. Government, I suppose, will do what is right, and not leave me in
the lurch. We have heard enough lately of the consequences of the
Navigation Act to this country. They may take my person; but if sixpence
would save me from a prosecution, I would not give it.” It was his great
ambition at this time to possess a pony; and having resolved to purchase
one, he went to a fair for that purpose. During his absence two men
abruptly entered the parsonage and inquired for him: they then asked for
Mrs. Nelson; and after they had made her repeatedly declare that she was
really and truly the captain’s wife, presented her with a writ, or
notification, on the part of the American captains, who now laid their
damages at L20,000, and they charged her to give it to her husband on his
return. Nelson, having bought his pony, came home with it in high spirits.
He called out his wife to admire the purchase and listen to all its
excellences: nor was it till his glee had in some measure subsided that
the paper could be presented to him. His indignation was excessive; and in
the apprehension that he should be exposed to the anxieties of the suit
and the ruinous consequences which might ensue, he exclaimed, “This
affront I did not deserve! But I’ll be trifled with no longer. I will
write immediately to the Treasury, and if government will not support me,
I am resolved to leave the country.” Accordingly, he informed the Treasury
that, if a satisfactory answer were not sent him by return of post, he
should take refuge in France. To this he expected he should be driven, and
for this he arranged everything with his characteristic rapidity of
decision. It was settled that he should depart immediately, and Mrs.
Nelson follow, under the care of his elder brother Maurice, ten days after
him. But the answer which he received from government quieted his fears:
it stated that Captain Nelson was a very good officer, and needed to be
under no apprehension, for he would assuredly be supported.

Here his disquietude upon this subject seems to have ended. Still he was
not at ease; he wanted employment, and was mortified that his applications
for it produced no effect. “Not being a man of fortune,” he said, “was a
crime which he was unable to get over, and therefore none of the great
cared about him.” Repeatedly he requested the Admiralty that they would
not leave him to rust in indolence. During the armament which was made
upon occasion of the dispute concerning Nootka Sound, he renewed his
application; and his steady friend, Prince William, who had then been
created Duke of Clarence, recommended him to Lord Chatham. The failure of
this recommendation wounded him so keenly that he again thought of
retiring from the service in disgust; a resolution from which nothing but
the urgent remonstrances of Lord Hood induced him to desist. Hearing that
the RAISONNABLE, in which he had commenced his career, was to be
commissioned, he asked for her. This also was in vain; and a coolness
ensued, on his part, toward Lord Hood, because that excellent officer did
not use his influence with Lord Chatham upon this occasion. Lord Hood,
however, had certainly sufficient reasons for not interfering; for he ever
continued his steady friend. In the winter of 1792, when we were on the
eve of the revolutionary war, Nelson once more offered his services,
earnestly requested a ship, and added, that if their lordships should be
pleased to appoint him to a cockle-boat he should feel satisfied. He was
answered in the usual official form: “Sir, I have received your letter of
the 5th instant, expressing your readiness to serve, and have read the
same to my Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty.” On the 12th of December
he received this dry acknowledgment. The fresh mortification did not,
however, affect him long; for, by the joint interest of the Duke and Lord
Hood, he was appointed, on the 30th of January following, to the
AGAMEMNON, of sixty-four guns.

CHAPTER III

1793 – 1795

The AGAMEMNON sent to the Mediterranean —Commencement of Nelson’s
Aquaintance with Sir W. Hamilton—He is sent to Corsica, to cooperate
with Paoli—State of Affairs in that Island—Nelson undertakes
the Siege of Bastia, and reduces it—Takes a distinguished Part in
the Siege of Calvi, where he loses an Eye—Admiral Hotham’s Action—The
AGAMEMNON ordered to Genoa, to co-operate with the Austrian and Sardinian
Forces—Gross Misconduct of the Austrian General.

“THERE are three things, young gentleman,” said Nelson to one of his
midshipmen, “which you are constantly to bear in mind. First, you must
always implicitly obey orders, without attempting to form any opinion of
your own respecting their propriety; secondly, you must consider every man
your enemy who speaks ill of your king; and, thirdly, you must hate a
Frenchman as you do the devil.” With these feelings he engaged in the war.
Josiah, his son-in-law, went with him as a midshipman.

The AGAMEMNON was ordered to the Mediterranean under Lord Hood. The fleet
arrived in those seas at a time when the south of France would willingly
have formed itself into a separate republic, under the protection of
England. But good principles had been at that time perilously abused by
ignorant and profligate men; and, in its fear and hatred of democracy, the
English Government abhorred whatever was republican. Lord Hood could not
take advantage of the fair occasion which presented itself; and which, if
it had been seized with vigour, might have ended in dividing France:—but
he negotiated with the people of Toulon, to take possession provisionally
of their port and city; which, fatally for themselves, was done. Before
the British fleet entered, Nelson was sent with despatches to Sir William
Hamilton, our envoy at the Court of Naples. Sir William, after his first
interview with him, told Lady Hamilton he was about to introduce a little
man to her, who could not boast of being very handsome; but such a man as,
he believed, would one day astonish the world. “I have never before,” he
continued, “entertained an officer at my house; but I am determined to
bring him here. Let him be put in the room prepared for Prince Augustus.”
Thus that acquaintance began which ended in the destruction of Nelson’s
domestic happiness. It seemed to threaten no such consequences at its
commencement. He spoke of Lady Hamilton, in a letter to his wife, as a
young woman of amiable manners, who did honour to the station to which she
had been raised; and he remarked, that she had been exceedingly kind to
Josiah. The activity with which the envoy exerted himself in procuring
troops from Naples, to assist in garrisoning Toulon, so delighted him,
that he is said to have exclaimed, “Sir William, you are a man after my
own heart!—you do business in my own way:” and then to have added,
“I am now only a captain; but I will, if I live, be at the top of the
tree.” Here, also, that acquaintance with the Neapolitan court commenced,
which led to the only blot upon Nelson’s public character. The king, who
was sincere at that time in his enmity to the French, called the English
the saviours of Italy, and of his dominions in particular. He paid the
most flattering attentions to Nelson, made him dine with him, and seated
him at his right hand.

Having accomplished this mission, Nelson received orders to join Commodore
Linzee at Tunis. On the way, five sail of the enemy were discovered off
the coast of Sardinia, and he chased them. They proved to be three
forty-four gun frigates, with a corvette of twenty-four and a brig of
twelve. The AGAMEMNON had only 345 men at quarters, having landed part of
her crew at Toulon, and others being absent in prizes. He came near enough
one of the frigates to engage her, but at great disadvantage, the
Frenchman manoeuvring well and sailing greatly better. A running fight of
three hours ensued, during which the other ships, which were at some
distance, made all speed to come up. By this time the enemy was almost
silenced, when a favourable change of wind enabled her to get out of reach
of the AGAMEMNON’s guns; and that ship had received so much damage in the
rigging that she could not follow her. Nelson, conceiving that this was
but the forerunner of a far more serious engagement, called his officers
together, and asked them if the ship was fit to go into action against
such a superior force without some small refit and refreshment for the
men. Their answer was, that she certainly was not. He then gave these
orders,—”Veer the ship, and lay her head to the westward: let some
of the best men be employed in refitting the rigging, and the carpenter in
getting crows and capstan-bars to prevent our wounded spars from coming
down: and get the wine up for the people, with some bread, for it may be
half an hour good before we are again in action.” But when the French came
up, their comrade made signals of distress, and they all hoisted out their
boats to go to her assistance, leaving the AGAMEMNON unmolested.

Nelson found Commodore Linzee at Tunis, where he had been sent to
expostulate with the dey upon the impolicy of his supporting the
revolutionary government of France. Nelson represented to him the atrocity
of that government. Such arguments were of little avail in Barbary; and
when the Dey was told that the French had put their sovereign to death, he
drily replied, that “Nothing could be more heinous; and yet, if historians
told the truth, the English had once done the same.” This answer had
doubtless been suggested by the French about him: they had completely
gained the ascendancy, and all negotiation on our part proved fruitless.
Shortly afterward, Nelson was detached with a small squadron, to
co-operate with General Paoli and the Anti-Gallican party in Corsica.

Some thirty years before this time the heroic patriotism of the Corsicans,
and of their leader Paoli, had been the admiration of England. The history
of these brave people is but a melancholy tale. The island which they
inhabit has been abundantly blessed by nature; it has many excellent
harbours; and though the MALARIA, or pestilential atmosphere, which is so
deadly in many parts of Italy and of the Italian islands, prevails on the
eastern coast, the greater part of the country is mountainous and healthy.
It is about 150 miles long, and from 40 to 50 broad; in circumference,
some 320; a country large enough, and sufficiently distant from the
nearest shores, to have subsisted as an independent state, if the welfare
and happiness of the human race had ever been considered as the end and
aim of policy. The Moors, the Pisans, the kings of Aragon, and the
Genoese, successively attempted, and each for a time effected its
conquest. The yoke of the Genoese continued longest, and was the heaviest.
These petty tyrants ruled with an iron rod; and when at any time a patriot
rose to resist their oppressions, if they failed to subdue him by force
they resorted to assassination. At the commencement of the last century
they quelled one revolt by the aid of German auxiliaries, whom the Emperor
Charles VI. sent against a people who had never offended him, and who were
fighting for whatever is most dear to man. In 1734 the war was renewed;
and Theodore, a Westphalian baron, then appeared upon the stage. In that
age men were not accustomed to see adventurers play for kingdoms, and
Theodore became the common talk of Europe. He had served in the French
armies; and having afterwards been noticed both by Ripperda and Alberoni,
their example, perhaps, inflamed a spirit as ambitious and as unprincipled
as their own. He employed the whole of his means in raising money and
procuring arms; then wrote to the leaders of the Corsican patriots, to
offer them considerable assistance, if they would erect Corsica into an
independent kingdom, and elect him king. When he landed among them, they
were struck with his stately person, his dignified manners, and imposing
talents. They believed the magnificent promises of foreign assistance
which he held out, and elected him king accordingly. Had his means been as
he represented them, they could not have acted more wisely than in thus at
once fixing the government of their country, and putting an end to those
rivalries among the leading families, which had so often proved pernicious
to the public weal. He struck money, conferred titles, blocked up the
fortified towns which were held by the Genoese, and amused the people with
promises of assistance for about eight months: then, perceiving that they
cooled in their affections towards him in proportion as their expectations
were disappointed, he left the island, under the plea of expediting
himself the succours which he had so long awaited. Such was his address,
that he prevailed upon several rich merchants in Holland, particularly the
Jews, to trust him with cannon and warlike stores to a great amount. They
shipped these under the charge of a supercargo. Theodore returned with
this supercargo to Corsica, and put him to death on his arrival, as the
shortest way of settling the account. The remainder of his life was a
series of deserved afflictions. He threw in the stores which he had thus
fraudulently obtained; but he did not dare to land, for Genoa had now
called in the French to their assistance, and a price had been set upon
his head. His dreams of royalty were now at an end; he took refuge in
London, contracted debts, and was thrown into the King’s Bench. After
lingering there many years, he was released under an act of insolvency, in
consequence of which he made over the kingdom of Corsica for the use of
his creditors, and died shortly after his deliverance.

The French, who have never acted a generous part in the history of the
world, readily entered into the views of the Genoese, which accorded with
their own policy: for such was their ascendancy at Genoa, that in subduing
Corsica for these allies, they were in fact subduing it for themselves.
They entered into the contest, therefore, with their usual vigour, and
their usual cruelty. It was in vain that the Corsicans addressed a most
affecting memorial to the court of Versailles; that remorseless government
persisted in its flagitious project. They poured in troops; dressed a part
of them like the people of the country, by which means they deceived and
destroyed many of the patriots; cut down the standing corn, the vines, and
the olives; set fire to the villages, and hung all the most able and
active men who fell into their hands. A war of this kind may be carried on
with success against a country so small and so thinly peopled as Corsica.
Having reduced the island to perfect servitude, which they called peace,
the French withdrew their forces. As soon as they were gone, men, women,
and boys rose at once against their oppressors. The circumstances of the
times were now favourable to them; and some British ships, acting as
allies of Sardinia, bombarded Bastia and San Fiorenzo, and delivered them
into the hands of the patriots. This service was long remembered with
gratitude: the impression made upon our own countrymen was less
favourable. They had witnessed the heartburnings of rival chiefs, and the
dissensions among the patriots; and perceiving the state of barbarism to
which continual oppression, and habits of lawless turbulence, had reduced
the nation, did not recollect that the vices of the people were owing to
their unhappy circumstances, but that the virtues which they displayed
arose from their own nature. This feeling, perhaps, influenced the British
court, when, in 1746, Corsica offered to put herself under the protection
of Great Britain: an answer was returned, expressing satisfaction at such
a communication, hoping that the Corsicans would preserve the same
sentiments, but signifying also that the present was not the time for such
a measure.

These brave islanders then formed a government for themselves, under two
leaders, Gaffori and Matra, who had the title of protectors. The latter is
represented as a partisan of Genoa, favouring the views of the oppressors
of his country by the most treasonable means. Gaffori was a hero worthy of
old times. His eloquence was long remembered with admiration. A band of
assassins was once advancing against him; he heard of their approach, went
out to meet them; and, with a serene dignity which overawed them,
requested them to hear him. He then spake to them so forcibly of the
distresses of their country, her intolerable wrongs, and the hopes and
views of their brethren in arms, that the very men who had been hired to
murder him, fell at his feet, implored his forgiveness, and joined his
banner. While he was besieging the Genoese in Corte, a part of the
garrison perceiving the nurse with his eldest son, then an infant in arms,
straying at a little distance from the camp, suddenly sallied out and
seized them. The use they made of their persons was in conformity to their
usual execrable conduct. When Gaffori advanced to batter the walls, they
held up the child directly over that part of the wall at which the guns
were pointed. The Corsicans stopped: but Gaffori stood at their head, and
ordered them to continue the fire. Providentially the child escaped, and
lived to relate, with becoming feeling, a fact so honourable to his
father. That father conducted the affairs of the island till 1753, when he
was assassinated by some wretches, set on, it is believed, by Genoa, but
certainly pensioned by that abominable government after the deed. He left
the country in such a state that it was enabled to continue the war two
years after his death without a leader: the Corsicans then found one
worthy of their cause in Pasquale de Paoli.

Paoli’s father was one of the patriots who effected their escape from
Corsica when the French reduced it to obedience. He retired to Naples, and
brought up his youngest son in the Neapolitan service. The Corsicans heard
of young Paoli’s abilities, and solicited him to come over to his native
country, and take the command. He did not hesitate long: his father, who
was too far advanced in years to take an active part himself, encouraged
him to go; and when they separated, the old man fell on his neck, and
kissed him, and gave him his blessing. “My son,” said he, “perhaps I may
never see you more; but in my mind I shall ever be present with you. Your
design is great and noble; and I doubt not but God will bless you in it. I
shall devote to your cause the little remainder of my life in offering up
my prayers for your success.” When Paoli assumed the command, he found all
things in confusion: he formed a democratical government, of which he was
chosen chief: restored the authority of the laws; established a
university; and took such measures, both for repressing abuses and
moulding the rising generation, that, if France had not interfered, upon
its wicked and detestable principle of usurpation, Corsica might at this
day have been as free, and flourishing and happy a commonwealth as any of
the Grecian states in the days of their prosperity. The Genoese were at
this time driven out of their fortified towns, and must in a short time
have been expelled. France was indebted some millions of livres to Genoa:
it was not convenient to pay this money; so the French minister proposed
to the Genoese, that she should discharge the debt by sending six
battalions to serve in Corsica for four years. The indignation which this
conduct excited in all generous hearts was forcibly expressed by Rousseau,
who, with all his errors, was seldom deficient in feeling for the wrongs
of humanity. “You Frenchmen,” said he, writing to one of that people, “are
a thoroughly servile nation, thoroughly sold to tyranny, thoroughly cruel
and relentless in persecuting the unhappy. If you knew of a freeman at the
other end of the world, I believe you would go thither for the mere
pleasure of extirpating him.”

The immediate object of the French happened to be purely mercenary: they
wanted to clear off their debt to Genoa; and as the presence of their
troops in the island effected this, they aimed at doing the people no
farther mischief. Would that the conduct of England had been at this time
free from reproach! but a proclamation was issued by the English
government, after the peace of Paris, prohibiting any intercourse with the
rebels of Corsica. Paoli said, he did not expect this from Great Britain.
This great man was deservedly proud of his country. “I defy Rome, Sparta,
or Thebes,” he would say, “to show me thirty years of such patriotism as
Corsica can boast!” Availing himself of the respite which the inactivity
of the French and the weakness of the Genoese allowed, he prosecuted his
plans of civilising the people. He used to say, that though he had an
unspeakable pride in the prospect of the fame to which he aspired; yet if
he could but render his countrymen happy, he could be content to be
forgotten. His own importance he never affected to undervalue. “We are now
to our country,” said he, “like the prophet Elisha stretched over the dead
child of the Shunamite,—eye to eye, nose to nose, mouth to mouth. It
begins to recover warmth, and to revive: I hope it will yet regain full
health and vigour.”

But when the four years were expired, France purchased the sovereignty of
Corsica from the Genoese for forty millions of livres; as if the Genoese
had been entitled to sell it; as if any bargain and sale could justify one
country in taking possession of another against the will of the
inhabitants, and butchering all who oppose the usurpation! Among the
enormities which France has committed, this action seems but as a speck;
yet the foulest murderer that ever suffered by the hand of the executioner
has infinitely less guilt upon his soul than the statesman who concluded
this treaty, and the monarch who sanctioned and confirmed it. A desperate
and glorious resistance was made, but it was in vain; no power interposed
in behalf of these injured islanders, and the French poured in as many
troops as were required. They offered to confirm Paoli in the supreme
authority, only on condition that he would hold it under their government.
His answer was, that “the rocks which surrounded him should melt away
before he would betray a cause which he held in common with the poorest
Corsican.” This people then set a price upon his head. During two
campaigns he kept them at bay: they overpowered him at length; he was
driven to the shore, and having escaped on shipboard, took refuge in
England. It is said that Lord Shelburne resigned his seat in the cabinet
because the ministry looked on without attempting to prevent France from
succeeding in this abominable and important act of aggrandizement. In one
respect, however, our country acted as became her. Paoli was welcomed with
the honours which he deserved, a pension of L1200 was immediately granted
him, and provision was liberally made for his elder brother and his
nephew.

About twenty years Paoli remained in England, enjoying the friendship of
the wise and the admiration of the good. But when the French Revolution
began, it seemed as if the restoration of Corsica was at hand. The whole
country, as if animated by one spirit, rose and demanded liberty; and the
National Assembly passed a decree recognising the island as a department
of France, and therefore entitled to all the privileges of the new French
constitution. This satisfied the Corsicans, which it ought not to have
done; and Paoli, in whom the ardour of youth was passed, seeing that his
countrymen were contented, and believing that they were about to enjoy a
state of freedom, naturally wished to return to his native country. He
resigned his pension in the year 1790, and appeared at the bar of the
Assembly with the Corsican deputies, when they took the oath of fidelity
to France. But the course of events in France soon dispelled those hopes
of a new and better order of things, which Paoli, in common with so many
of the friends of human-kind, had indulged; and perceiving, after the
execution of the king, that a civil war was about to ensue, of which no
man could foresee the issue, he prepared to break the connection between
Corsica and the French Republic. The convention suspecting such a design,
and perhaps occasioning it by their suspicions, ordered him to their bar.
That way he well knew led to the guillotine; and returning a respectful
answer, he declared that he would never be found wanting in his duty, but
pleaded age and infirmity as a reason for disobeying the summons. Their
second order was more summary; and the French troops, who were in Corsica,
aided by those of the natives, who were either influenced by hereditary
party feelings, or who were sincere in Jacobinism, took the field against
him. But the people were with him. He repaired to Corte, the capital of
the island, and was again invested with the authority which he had held in
the noonday of his fame. The convention upon this denounced him as a
rebel, and set a price upon his head. It was not the first time that
France had proscribed Paoli.

Paoli now opened a correspondence with Lord Hood, promising, if the
English would make an attack upon St. Fiorenzo from the sea, he would at
the same time attack it by land. This promise he was unable to perform;
and Commodore Linzee, who, in reliance upon it, was sent upon this
service, was repulsed with some loss. Lord Hood, who had now been
compelled to evacuate Toulon, suspected Paoli of intentionally deceiving
him. This was an injurious suspicion. Shortly afterwards he dispatched
Lieutenant-Colonel (afterward Sir John) Moore and Major Koehler to confer
with him upon a plan of operations. Sir Gilbert Elliot accompanied them;
and it was agreed that, in consideration of the succours, both military
and naval, which his Britannic Majesty should afford for the purpose of
expelling the French, the island of Corsica should be delivered into the
immediate possession of his Majesty, and bind itself to acquiesce in any
settlement he might approve of concerning its government, and its future
relation with Great Britain. While this negotiation was going on, Nelson
cruised off the island with a small squadron, to prevent the enemy from
throwing in supplies. Close to St. Fiorenzo the French had a storehouse of
flour near their only mill: he watched an opportunity, and landed 120 men,
who threw the flour into the sea, burnt the mill, and re-embarked before
1000 men, who were sent against him, could occasion them the loss of a
single man. While he exerted himself thus, keeping out all supplies,
intercepting despatches, attacking their outposts and forts, and cutting
out vessels from the bay,—a species of warfare which depresses the
spirit of an enemy even more than it injures them, because of the sense of
individual superiority which it indicates in the assailants—troops
were landed, and St. Fiorenzo was besieged. The French finding themselves
unable to maintain their post sunk one of their frigates, burnt another,
and retreated to Bastia. Lord Hood submitted to General Dundas, who
commanded the land forces, a plan for the reduction of this place: the
general declined co-operating, thinking the attempt impracticable without
a reinforcement of 2000 men, which he expected from Gibraltar. Upon this
Lord Hood determined to reduce it with the naval force under his command;
and leaving part of his fleet off Toulon, he came with the rest to Bastia.

He showed a proper sense of respect for Nelson’s services, and of
confidence in his talents, by taking care not to bring with him any older
captain. A few days before their arrival, Nelson had had what he called a
brush with the enemy. “If I had had with me 500 troops,” he said, “to a
certainty I should have stormed the town; and I believe it might have been
carried. Armies go so slow that seamen think they never mean to get
forward; but I daresay they act on a surer principle, although we seldom
fail.” During this partial action our army appeared upon the heights; and
having reconnoitered the place, returned to St. Fiorenzo. “What the
general could have seen to make a retreat necessary,” said Nelson, “I
cannot comprehend. A thousand men would certainly take Bastia: with five
hundred and the AGAMEMNON I would attempt it. My seamen are now what
British seamen ought to be—almost invincible. They really mind shot
no more than peas.” General Dundas had not the same confidence. “After
mature consideration,” he said in a letter to Lord Hood, “and a personal
inspection for several days of all circumstances, local as well as others,
I consider the siege of Bastia, with our present means and force, to be a
most visionary and rash attempt; such as no officer would be justified in
undertaking.” Lord Hood replied that nothing would be more gratifying to
his feelings than to have the whole responsibility upon himself; and that
he was ready and willing to undertake the reduction of the place at his
own risk with the force and means at present there. General D’Aubant, who
succeeded at this time to the command of the army, coincided in opinion
with his predecessor, and did not think it right to furnish his lordship
with a single soldier, cannon, or any stores. Lord Hood could only obtain
a few artillerymen; and ordering on board that part of the troops who,
having been embarked as marines, “were borne on the ships” books as part
of their respective complements, he began the siege with 1183 soldiers,
artillerymen, and marines, and 250 sailors. “We are but few,” said Nelson,
“but of the right sort; our general at St. Fiorenzo not giving us one of
the five regiments he has there lying idle.”

These men were landed on the 4th of April, under Lieutenant-Colonel
Villettes and Nelson, who had now acquired from the army the title of
brigadier. Guns were dragged by the sailors up heights where it appeared
almost impossible to convey them—a work of the greatest difficulty,
and which Nelson said could never, in his opinion, have been accomplished
by any but British seamen. The soldiers, though less dexterous in such
service, because not accustomed, like sailors, to habitual dexterity.
behaved with equal spirit. “Their zeal,” said the brigadier, “is almost
unexampled. There is not a man but considers himself as personally
interested in the event, and deserted by the general. It has, I am
persuaded, made them equal to double their numbers.” This is one proof, of
many, that for our soldiers to equal our seamen, it is only necessary for
them to be equally well commanded. They have the same heart and soul, as
well as the same flesh and blood. Too much may, indeed, be exacted from
them in a retreat; but set their face toward a foe, and there is nothing
within the reach of human achievement which they cannot perform. The
French had improved the leisure which our military commander had allowed
them; and before Lord Hood commenced his operations, he had the
mortification of seeing that the enemy were every day erecting new works,
strengthening old ones, and rendering the attempt more difficult. La Combe
St. Michel, the commissioner from the national convention, who was in the
city, replied in these terms to the summons of the British admiral—”I
have hot shot for your ships, and bayonets for your troops. When
two-thirds of our men are killed, I will then trust to the generosity of
the English.” The siege, however, was not sustained with the firmness
which such a reply seemed to augur. On the 19th of May a treaty of
capitulation was begun; that same evening the troops from St. Fiorenzo
made their appearance on the hills; and, on the following morning, General
d’Aubant arrived with the whole army to take possession of Bastia.

The event of the siege had justified the confidence of the sailors; but
they themselves excused the opinion of the generals when they saw what
they had done. “I am all astonishment,” said Nelson, “when I reflect on
what we have achieved; 1000 regulars, 1500 national guards, and a large
party of Corsican troops, 4000 in all, laying down their arms to 1200
soldiers, marines, and seamen! I always was of opinion, have ever acted up
to it, and never had any reason to repent it, that one Englishman was
equal to three Frenchmen. Had this been an English town, I am sure it
would not have been taken by them.” When it had been resolved to attack
the place, the enemy were supposed to be far inferior in number; and it
was not till the whole had been arranged, and the siege publicly
undertaken, that Nelson received certain information of the great
superiority of the garrison. This intelligence he kept secret, fearing
lest, if so fair a pretext were afforded, the attempt would be abandoned.
“My own honour,” said he to his wife, “Lord Hood’s honour, and the honour
of our country, must have been sacrificed had I mentioned what I knew;
therefore you will believe what must have been my feelings during the
whole siege, when I had often proposals made to me to write to Lord Hood
to raise it.” Those very persons who thus advised him, were rewarded for
their conduct at the siege of Bastia: Nelson, by whom it may truly be
affirmed that Bastia was taken, received no reward. Lord Hood’s thanks to
him, both public and private, were, as he himself said, the handsomest
which man could give; but his signal merits were not so mentioned in the
despatches as to make them sufficiently known to the nation, nor to obtain
for him from government those honours to which they so amply entitled him.
This could only have arisen from the haste in which the despatches were
written; certainly not from any deliberate purpose, for Lord Hood was
uniformly his steady and sincere friend.

One of the cartel’s ships, which carried the garrison of Bastia to Toulon,
brought back intelligence that the French were about to sail from that
port;-such exertions had they made to repair the damage done at the
evacuation, and to fit out a fleet. The intelligence was speedily
verified. Lord Hood sailed in quest of them toward the islands of Hieres.
The AGAMEMNON was with him. “I pray God,” said Nelson, writing to his
wife, “that we may meet their fleet. If any accident should happen to me,
I am sure my conduct will be such as will entitle you to the royal favour;
not that I have the least idea but I shall return to you, and full of
honour: if not, the Lord’s will be done. My name shall never be a disgrace
to those who may belong to me. The little I have, I have given to you,
except a small annuity—I wish it was more; but I have never got a
farthing dishonestly: it descends from clean hands. Whatever fate awaits
me, I pray God to bless you, and preserve you, for your son’s sake.” With
a mind thus prepared, and thus confident, his hopes and wishes seemed on
the point of being gratified, when the enemy were discovered close under
the land, near St. Tropez. The wind fell, and prevented Lord Hood from
getting between them and the shore, as he designed: boats came out from
Antibes and other places to their assistance, and towed them within the
shoals in Gourjean Roads, where they were protected by the batteries on
isles St. Honore and St. Marguerite, and on Cape Garousse. Here the
English admiral planned a new mode of attack, meaning to double on five of
the nearest ships; but the wind again died away, and it was found that
they had anchored in compact order, guarding the only passage for large
ships. There was no way of effecting this passage, except by towing or
warping the vessels; and this rendered the attempt impracticable. For this
time the enemy escaped; but Nelson bore in mind the admirable plan of
attack which Lord Hood had devised, and there came a day when they felt
its tremendous effects.

The AGAMEMNON was now despatched to co-operate at the siege of Calvi with
General Sir Charles Stuart; an officer who, unfortunately for his country,
never had an adequate field allotted him far the display of those eminent
talents which were, to all who knew him, so conspicuous. Nelson had less
responsibility here than at Bastia; and was acting with a man after his
own heart, who was never sparing of himself, and slept every night in the
advanced battery. But the service was not less hard than that of the
former siege. “We will fag ourselves to death,” said he to Lord Hood,
“before any blame shall lie at our doors. I trust it will not be
forgotten, that twenty-five pieces of heavy ordnance have been dragged to
the different batteries, mounted, and, all but three, fought by seamen,
except one artilleryman to point the guns.” The climate proved more
destructive than the service; for this was during the lion sun, as they
call our season of the dog-days. Of 2000 men, above half were sick, and
the rest like so many phantoms. Nelson described himself as the reed among
the oaks, bowing before the storm when they were laid low by it. “All the
prevailing disorders have attacked me,” said he, “but I have not strength
enough for them to fasten on.” The loss from the enemy was not great; but
Nelson received a serious injury: a shot struck the ground near him, and
drove the sand and small gravel into one of his eyes. He spoke of it
slightly at the time: writing the same day to Lord Hood, he only said that
he had got a little hurt that morning, not much; and the next day, he
said, he should be able to attend his duty in the evening. In fact, he
suffered it to confine him only one day; but the sight was lost.

After the fall of Calvi, his services were, by a strange omission,
altogether overlooked; and his name was not even mentioned in the list of
wounded. This was no ways imputable to the admiral, for he sent home to
government Nelson’s journal of the siege, that they might fully understand
the nature of his indefatigable and unequalled exertions. If those
exertions were not rewarded in the conspicuous manner which they deserved,
the fault was in the administration of the day, not in Lord Hood. Nelson
felt himself neglected. “One hundred and ten days,” said he, “I have been
actually engaged at sea and on shore against the enemy; three actions
against ships, two against Bastia in my ship, four boat actions, and two
villages taken, and twelve sail of vessels burnt. I do not know that any
one has done more. I have had the comfort to be always applauded by my
Commander-in-Chief, but never to be rewarded; and, what is more
mortifying, for services in which I have been wounded, others have been
praised, who, at the same time, were actually in bed, far from the scene
of action. They have not done me justice. But never mind, I’ll have a
GAZETTE of my own.” How amply was this second-sight of glory realised!

The health of his ship’s company had now, in his own words, been miserably
torn to pieces by as hard service as a ship’s crew ever performed: 150
were in their beds when he left Calvi; of them he lost 54 and believed
that the constitutions of the rest were entirely destroyed. He was now
sent with despatches to Mr. Drake, at Genoa, and had his first interview
with the Doge. The French had, at this time, taken possession of Vado Bay,
in the Genoese territory; and Nelson foresaw that, if their thoughts were
bent on the invasion of Italy, they would accomplish it the ensuing
spring. “The allied powers,” he said, “were jealous of each other; and
none but England was hearty in the cause.” His wish was for peace on fair
terms, because England he thought was draining herself to maintain allies
who would not fight for themselves. Lord Hood had now returned to England,
and the command devolved on Admiral Hotham. The affairs of the
Mediterranean wore at this time a gloomy aspect. The arts, as well as the
arms of the enemy, were gaining the ascendancy there. Tuscany concluded
peace relying upon the faith of France, which was, in fact, placing itself
at her mercy. Corsica was in danger. We had taken that island for
ourselves, annexed it formally to the crown of Great Britain, and given it
a constitution as free as our own. This was done with the consent of the
majority of the inhabitants; and no transaction between two countries was
ever more fairly or legitimately conducted: yet our conduct was unwise;—the
island is large enough to form an independent state, and such we should
have made it, under our protection, as long as protection might be needed;
the Corsicans would then have felt as a nation; but when one party had
given up the country to England, the natural consequence was that the
other looked to France. The question proposed to the people was, to which
would they belong? Our language and our religion were against us; our
unaccommodating manners, it is to be feared, still more so. The French
were better politicians. In intrigue they have ever been unrivalled; and
it now became apparent that, in spite of old wrongs, which ought never to
have been forgotten nor forgiven, their partisans were daily acquiring
strength. It is part of the policy of France, and a wise policy it is, to
impress upon other powers the opinion of its strength, by lofty language:
and by threatening before it strikes; a system which, while it keeps up
the spirit of its allies, and perpetually stimulates their hopes, tends
also to dismay its enemies. Corsica was now loudly threatened. “The
French, who had not yet been taught to feel their own inferiority upon the
seas, braved us in contempt upon that element.” They had a superior fleet
in the Mediterranean, and they sent it out with express orders to seek the
English and engage them. Accordingly, the Toulon fleet, consisting of
seventeen ships of the line and five smaller vessels, put to sea. Admiral
Hotham received this information at Leghorn, and sailed immediately in
search of them. He had with him fourteen sail of the line, and one
Neapolitan seventy-four; but his ships were only half-manned, containing
but 7650 men, whereas the enemy had 16,900. He soon came in sight of them:
a general action was expected; and Nelson, as was his custom on such
occasions, wrote a hasty letter to his wife, as that which might possibly
contain his last farewell. “The lives of all,” said he, “are in the hand
of Him who knows best whether to preserve mine or not; my character and
good name are in my own keeping.”

But however confident the French government might be of their naval
superiority, the officers had no such feeling; and after manoeuvring for a
day in sight of the English fleet, they suffered themselves to be chased.
One of their ships, the CA IRA, of eighty-four guns, carried away her main
and fore top-masts. The INCONSTANT frigate fired at the disabled ship, but
received so many shot that she was obliged to leave her. Soon afterwards a
French frigate took the CA IRA in tow; and the SANS-CULOTTES, one hundred
and twenty, and the JEAN BARRAS, seventy-four, kept about gunshot distance
on her weather bow. The AGAMEMNON stood towards her, having no ship of the
line to support her within several miles. As she drew near, the CA IRA
fired her stern guns so truly, that not a shot missed some part of the
ship; and latterly, the masts were struck by every shot. It had been
Nelson’s intention not to fire before he touched her stern; but seeing how
impossible it was that he should be supported, and how certainly the
AGAMEMNON must be severely cut up if her masts were disabled, he altered
his plan according to the occasion. As soon, therefore, as he was within a
hundred yards of her stern, he ordered the helm to be put a-starboard, and
the driver and after-sails to be brailed up and shivered; and, as the ship
fell off, gave the enemy her whole broadside. They instantly braced up the
after-yards, put the helm a-port, and stood after her again. This
manoeuvre he practised for two hours and a quarter, never allowing the CA
IRA to get a single gun from either side to bear on him; and when the
French fired their after-guns now, it was no longer with coolness and
precision, for every shot went far ahead. By this time her sails were
hanging in tatters, her mizen-top-mast, mizen-top-sail, and
cross-jack-yards shot away. But the frigate which had her in tow hove in
stays, and got her round. Both these French ships now brought their guns
to bear, and opened their fire. The AGAMEMNON passed them within
half-pistol shot; almost every shot passed over her, for the French had
elevated their guns for the rigging, and for distant firing, and did not
think of altering the elevation. As soon as the AGAMEMNON’s after-guns
ceased to bear, she hove in stays, keeping a constant fire as she came
round; and being worked, said Nelson, with as much exactness as if she had
been turning into Spithead. On getting round, he saw that the
Sans-Culottes, which had wore, with many of the enemy’s ships, was under
his lee bow, and standing to leeward. The admiral, at the same time, made
the signal for the van ships to join him. Upon this Nelson bore away, and
prepared to set all sail; and the enemy, having saved their ship, hauled
close to the wind, and opened upon him a distant and ineffectual fire.
Only seven of the AGAMEMNON’s men were hurt—a thing which Nelson
himself remarked as wonderful: her sails and rigging were very much cut,
and she had many shots in her hull, and some between wind and water. The
CA IRA lost 110 men that day, and was so cut up that she could not get a
top-mast aloft during the night.

At daylight on the following morning, the English ships were taken aback
with a fine breeze at N.W., while the enemy’s fleet kept the southerly
wind. The body of their fleet was about five miles distant; the CA IRA and
the CENSEUR, seventy-four, which had her in tow, about three and a half.
All sail was made to cut these ships off; and as the French attempted to
save them, a partial action was brought on. The AGAMEMNON was again
engaged with her yesterday’s antagonist; but she had to fight on both
sides the ship at the same time. The CA IRA and the CENSEUR fought most
gallantly: the first lost nearly 300 men, in addition to her former loss;
the last, 350. Both at length struck; and Lieutenant Andrews, of the
AGAMEMNON, brother to the lady to whom Nelson had become attached in
France, and, in Nelson’s own words, “as gallant an officer as ever stepped
a quarter-deck,” hoisted English colours on board them both. The rest of
the enemy’s ships’ behaved very ill. As soon as these vessels had struck,
Nelson went to Admiral Hotham and proposed that the two prizes should be
left with the ILLUSTRIOUS and COURAGEUX, which had been crippled in the
action, and with four frigates, and that the rest of the fleet should
pursue the enemy, and follow up the advantage to the utmost. But his reply
was—”We must be contented: we have done very well.”—”Now,”
said Nelson, “had we taken ten sail, and allowed the eleventh to escape,
when it had been possible to have got at her, I could never have called it
well done. Goodall backed me; I got him to write to the admiral; but it
would not do. We should have had such a day as, I believe, the annals of
England never produced.” In this letter the character of Nelson fully
manifests itself. “I wish,” said he, “to be an admiral, and in the command
of the English fleet: I should very soon either do much, or be ruined: my
disposition cannot bear tame and slow measures. Sure I am, had I commanded
on the 14th, that either the whole French fleet would have graced my
triumph, or I should have been in a confounded scrape.” What the event
would have been, he knew from his prophetic feelings and his own
consciousness of power; and we also know it now, for Aboukir and Trafalgar
have told it.

The CA IRA and CENSEUR probably defended themselves with more obstinacy in
this action, from a persuasion that, if they struck, no quarter would be
given; because they had fired red-hot shot, and had also a preparation
sent, as they said, by the convention from Paris, which seems to have been
of the nature of the Greek fire; for it became liquid when it was
discharged, and water would not extinguish its flames. This combustible
was concealed with great care in the captured ships; like the red-hot
shot, it had been found useless in battle. Admiral Hotham’s action saved
Corsica for the time; but the victory had been incomplete, and the arrival
at Toulon of six sail of the line, two frigates, and two cutters from
Brest, gave the French a superiority which, had they known how to use it,
would materially have endangered the British Mediterranean fleet. That
fleet had been greatly neglected at the Admiralty during Lord Chatham’s
administration: and it did not, for some time, feel the beneficial effect
of his removal. Lord Hood had gone home to represent the real state of
affairs, and solicit reinforcements adequate to the exigencies of the
time, and the importance of the scene of action. But that fatal error of
under-proportioning the force to the service; that ruinous economy, which,
by sparing a little, renders all that is spent useless, infected the
British councils; and Lord Hood, not being able to obtain such
reinforcements as he knew were necessary, resigned the command. “Surely,”
said Nelson, “the people at home have forgotten us.” Another Neapolitan
seventy-four joined Admiral Hotham, and Nelson observed with sorrow that
this was matter of exultation to an English fleet. When the store-ships
and victuallers from Gibraltar arrived, their escape from the enemy was
thought wonderful; and yet, had they not escaped, “the game,” said Nelson,
“was up here. At this moment our operations are at a stand for want of
ships to support the Austrians in getting possession of the sea-coast of
the king of Sardinia; and behold our admiral does not feel himself equal
to show himself, much less to give assistance in their operations.” It was
reported that the French were again out with 18 or 20 sail. The combined
British and Neapolitan were but sixteen; should the enemy be only
eighteen, Nelson made no doubt of a complete victory; but if they were
twenty, he said, it was not to be expected; and a battle, without complete
victory, would have been destruction, because another mast was not to be
got on that side Gibraltar. At length Admiral Man arrived with a squadron
from England. “What they can mean by sending him with only five sail of
the line,” said Nelson, “is truly astonishing; but all men are alike, and
we in this country do not find any amendment or alteration from the old
Board of Admiralty. They should know that half the ships in the fleet
require to go to England; and that long ago they ought to have reinforced
us.”

About this time Nelson was made colonel of marines; a mark of approbation
which he had long wished for rather than expected. It came in good season,
for his spirits were oppressed by the thought that his services had not
been acknowledged as they deserved; and it abated the resentful feeling
which would else have been excited by the answer to an application to the
War-office. During his four months’ land service in Corsica, he had lost
all his ship furniture, owing to the movements of a camp. Upon this he
wrote to the Secretary at War, briefly stating what his services on shore
had been, and saying, he trusted it was not asking an improper thing to
request that the same allowance might be made to him which would be made
to a land officer of his rank, which, situated as he was, would be that of
a brigadier-general: if this could not be accorded, he hoped that his
additional expenses would be paid him. The answer which he received was,
that “no pay had ever been issued under the direction of the War-office to
officers of the navy serving with the army on shore.”

He now entered upon a new line of service. The Austrian and Sardinian
armies, under General de Vins, required a British squadron to co-operate
with them in driving the French from the Riviera di Genoa; and as Nelson
had been so much in the habit of soldiering, it was immediately fixed that
the brigadier should go. He sailed from St. Fiorenzo on this destination;
but fell in, off Cape del Mele, with the enemy’s fleet, who immediately
gave his squadron chase. The chase lasted four-and-twenty hours; and,
owing to the fickleness of the wind, the British ships were sometimes hard
pressed; but the want of skill on the part of the French gave Nelson many
advantages. Nelson bent his way back to St. Fiorenzo, where the fleet,
which was in the midst of watering and refitting, had, for seven hours,
the mortification of seeing him almost in possession of the enemy, before
the wind would allow them to put out to his assistance. The French,
however, at evening, went off, not choosing to approach nearer the shore.
During the night, Admiral Hotham, by great exertions, got under weigh;
and, having sought the enemy four days, came in sight of them on the
fifth. Baffling winds and vexatious calms, so common in the Mediterranean,
rendered it impossible to close with them; only a partial action could be
brought on; and then the firing made a perfect calm. The French being to
windward, drew inshore; and the English fleet was becalmed six or seven
miles to the westward. L’ALCIDE, of seventy-four guns, struck; but before
she could be taken possession of, a box of combustibles in her fore-top
took fire, and the unhappy crew experienced how far more perilous their
inventions were to themselves than to their enemies. So rapid was the
conflagration, that the French in their official account say, the hull,
the masts, and sails, all seemed to take fire at the same moment; and
though the English boats were put out to the assistance of the poor
wretches on board, not more than 200 could be saved. The AGAMEMNON, and
Captain Rowley in the CUMBERLAND, were just getting into close action a
second time, when the admiral called them off, the wind now blowing
directly into the Gulf of Frejus, where the enemy anchored after the
evening closed.

Nelson now proceeded to his station with eight sail of frigates under his
command. Arriving at Genoa, he had a conference with Mr. Drake, the
British envoy to that state; the result of which was, that the object of
the British must be to put an entire stop to all trade between Genoa,
France, and the places occupied by the French troops; for unless this
trade were stopped, it would be scarcely possible for the allied armies to
hold their situation, and impossible for them to make any progress in
driving the enemy out of the Riviera di Genoa. Mr. Drake was of opinion
that even Nice might fall for want of supplies, if the trade with Genoa
were cut off. This sort of blockade Nelson could not carry on without
great risk to himself. A captain in the navy, as he represented to the
envoy, is liable to prosecution for detention and damages. This danger was
increased by an order which had then lately been issued; by which, when a
neutral ship was detained, a complete specification of her cargo was
directed to be sent to the secretary of the Admiralty, and no legal
process instituted against her till the pleasure of that board should be
communicated. This was requiring an impossibility. The cargoes of ships
detained upon this station, consisting chiefly of corn, would be spoiled
long before the orders of the Admiralty could be known; and then, if they
should happen to release the vessel, the owners would look to the captain
for damages. Even the only precaution which could be taken against this
danger, involved another danger not less to be apprehended: for if the
captain should direct the cargo to be taken out, the freight paid for, and
the vessel released, the agent employed might prove fraudulent, and become
bankrupt; and in that case the captain became responsible. Such things had
happened: Nelson therefore required, as the only means for carrying on
that service, which was judged essential to the common cause, without
exposing the officers to ruin, that the British envoy should appoint
agents to pay the freight, release the vessels, sell the cargo, and hold
the amount till process was had upon it: government thus securing its
officers. “I am acting,” said Nelson. “not only without the orders of my
commander-in-chief, but, in some measure, contrary to him. However, I have
not only the support of his Majesty’s ministers, both at Turin and Genoa,
but a consciousness that I am doing what is right and proper for the
service of our king and country. Political courage, in an officer abroad,
is as highly necessary as military courage.”

This quality, which is as much rarer than military courage as it is more
valuable, and without which the soldier’s bravery is often of little
avail, Nelson possessed in an eminent degree. His representations were
attended to as they deserved. Admiral Hotham commended him for what he had
done; and the attention of government was awakened to the injury which the
cause of the allies continually suffered from the frauds of neutral
vessels. “What changes in my life of activity!” said the indefatigable
man. “Here I am, having commenced a co-operation with an old Austrian
general, almost fancying myself charging at the head of a troop of horse!
I do not write less than from ten to twenty letters every day; which, with
the Austrian general and aides-de-camp, and my own little squadron, fully
employ my time. This I like; active service or none.” It was Nelson’s mind
which supported his feeble body through these exertions. He was at this
time almost blind, and wrote with very great pain. “Poor AGAMEMNON,” he
sometimes said, “was as nearly worn out as her captain; and both must soon
be laid up to repair.”

When Nelson first saw General de Vins, he thought him an able man, who was
willing to act with vigour. The general charged his inactivity upon the
Piedmontese and Neapolitans, whom, he said, nothing could induce to act;
and he concerted a plan with Nelson for embarking a part of the Austrian
army, and landing it in the rear of the French. But the English commodore
soon began to suspect that the Austrian general was little disposed to any
active operations. In the hope of spurring him on, he wrote to him,
telling him that he had surveyed the coast to the W. as far as Nice, and
would undertake to embark 4000 or 5000 men, with their arms and a few
days’ provisions, on board the squadron, and land them within two miles of
St. Remo, with their field-pieces. Respecting further provisions for the
Austrian army, he would provide convoys, that they should arrive in
safety; and if a re-embarkation should be found necessary, he would cover
it with the squadron. The possession of St. Remo, as headquarters for
magazines of every kind, would enable the Austrian general to turn his
army to the eastward or westward. The enemy at Oneglia would be cut off
from provisions, and men could be landed to attack that place whenever it
was judged necessary. St. Remo was the only place between Vado and Ville
Franche where the squadron could lie in safety, and anchor in almost all
winds. The bay was not so good as Vado for large ships; but it had a mole,
which Vado had not, where all small vessels could lie, and load and unload
their cargoes. This bay being in possession of the allies, Nice could be
completely blockaded by sea. General de Vins affecting, in his reply, to
consider that Nelson’s proposal had no other end than that of obtaining
the bay of St. Remo as a station for the ships, told him, what he well
knew, and had expressed before, that Vado Bay was a better anchorage;
nevertheless, if MONSIEUR LE COMMANDANT NELSON was well assured that part
of the fleet could winter there, there was no risk to which he would not
expose himself with pleasure, for the sake of procuring a safe station for
the vessels of his Britannic Majesty. Nelson soon assured the Austrian
commander that this was not the object of his memorial. He now began to
suspect that both the Austrian Court and their general had other ends in
view than the cause of the allies. “This army,” said he, “is slow beyond
all description; and I begin to think that the Emperor is anxious to touch
another L4,000,000 of English money. As for the German generals, war is
their trade, and peace is ruin to them; therefore we cannot expect that
they should have any wish to finish the war. The politics of courts are so
mean, that private people would be ashamed to act in the same way; all is
trick and finesse, to which the common cause is sacrificed. The general
wants a loop-hole; it has for some time appeared to me that he means to go
no further than his present position, and to lay the miscarriage of the
enterprise against Nice, which has always been held out as the great
object of his army, to the non-cooperation of the British fleet and of the
Sardinians.”

To prevent this plea, Nelson again addressed De Vins, requesting only to
know the time, and the number of troops ready to embark; then he would, he
said, dispatch a ship to Admiral Hotham, requesting transports, having no
doubt of obtaining them, and trusting that the plan would be successful to
its fullest extent. Nelson thought at the time that, if the whole fleet
were offered him for transports, he would find some other excuse; and Mr.
Drake, who was now appointed to reside at the Austrian headquarters,
entertained the same idea of the general’s sincerity. It was not, however,
put so clearly to the proof as it ought to have been. He replied that, as
soon as Nelson could declare himself ready with the vessels necessary for
conveying 10,000 men, with their artillery and baggage, he would put the
army in motion. But Nelson was not enabled to do this: Admiral Hotham, who
was highly meritorious in leaving such a man so much at his own
discretion, pursued a cautious system, ill according with the bold and
comprehensive views of Nelson, who continually regretted Lord Hood, saying
that the nation had suffered much by his resignation of the Mediterranean
command. The plan which had been concerted, he said, would astonish the
French, and perhaps the English.

There was no unity in the views of the allied powers, no cordiality in
their co-operation, no energy in their councils. The neutral powers
assisted France more effectually than the allies assisted each other. The
Genoese ports were at this time filled with French privateers, which
swarmed out every night, and covered the gulf; and French vessels were
allowed to tow out of the port of Genoa itself, board vessels which were
coming in, and then return into the mole. This was allowed without a
remonstrance; while, though Nelson abstained most carefully from offering
any offence to the Genoese territory or flag, complaints were so
repeatedly made against his squadron, that, he says, it seemed a trial who
should be tired first; they of complaining, or he of answering their
complaints. But the question of neutrality was soon at an end. An Austrian
commissary was travelling from Genoa towards Vado; it was known that he
was to sleep at Voltri, and that he had L10,000 with him—a booty
which the French minister in that city, and the captain of a French
frigate in that port, considered as far more important than the word of
honour of the one, the duties of the other, and the laws of neutrality.
The boats of the frigate went out with some privateers, landed, robbed the
commissary, and brought back the money to Genoa. The next day men were
publicly enlisted in that city for the French army: 700 men were embarked,
with 7000 stand of arms, on board the frigates and other vessels, who were
to land between Voltri and Savona. There a detachment from the French army
was to join them, and the Genoese peasantry were to be invited to
insurrection—a measure for which everything had been prepared. The
night of the 13th was fixed for the sailing of this expedition; the
Austrians called loudly for Nelson to prevent it; and he, on the evening
of the 13th, arrived at Genoa. His presence checked the plan: the frigate,
knowing her deserts, got within the merchant-ships, in the inner mole; and
the Genoese government did not now even demand of Nelson respect to the
neutral port, knowing that they had allowed, if not connived at, a
flagrant breach of neutrality, and expecting the answer which he was
prepared to return, that it was useless and impossible for him to respect
it longer.

But though this movement produced the immediate effect which was designed,
it led to ill consequences, which Nelson foresaw, but for want of
sufficient force was unable to prevent. His squadron was too small for the
service which it had to perform. He required two seventy-fours and eight
or ten frigates and sloops; but when he demanded this reinforcement,
Admiral Hotham had left the command. Sir Hyde Parker had succeeded till
the new commander should arrive; and he immediately reduced it to almost
nothing, leaving him only one frigate and a brig. This was a fatal error.
While the Austrian and Sardinian troops, whether from the imbecility or
the treachery of their leaders, remained inactive, the French were
preparing for the invasion of Italy. Not many days before Nelson was thus
summoned to Genoa, he chased a large convoy into Alassio. Twelve vessels
he had formerly destroyed in that port, though 2000 French troops occupied
the town. This former attack had made them take new measures of defence;
and there were now above 100 sail of victuallers, gun-boats, and ships of
war. Nelson represented to the Admiral how important it was to destroy
these vessels; and offered, with his squadron of frigates, and the
CULLODEN and COURAGEUX, to lead himself in the AGAMEMNON, and take or
destroy the whole. The attempt was not permitted; but it was Nelson’s
belief that, if it had been made, it would have prevented the attack upon
the Austrian army, which took place almost immediately afterwards.

General de Vins demanded satisfaction of the Genoese government for the
seizure of his commissary; and then, without waiting for their reply, took
possession of some empty magazines of the French, and pushed his sentinels
to the very gates of Genoa. Had he done so at first, he would have found
the magazines full; but, timed as the measure was, and useless as it was
to the cause of the allies, it was in character with the whole of the
Austrian general’s conduct; and it is no small proof of the dexterity with
which he served the enemy, that in such circumstances he could so act with
Genoa as to contrive to put himself in the wrong. Nelson was at this time,
according to his own expression, placed in a cleft stick. Mr. Drake, the
Austrian minister, and the Austrian general, all joined in requiring him
not to leave Genoa; if he left that port unguarded, they said, not only
the imperial troops at St. Pier d’Arena and Voltri would be lost, but the
French plan for taking post between Voltri and Savona would certainly
succeed; if the Austrians should be worsted in the advanced posts, the
retreat of the Bocchetta would be cut off; and if this happened, the loss
of the army would be imputed to him, for having left Genoa. On the other
hand, he knew that if he were not at Pietra, the enemy’s gun-boats would
harass the left flank of the Austrians, who, if they were defeated, as was
to be expected, from the spirit of all their operations, would, very
probably, lay their defeat to the want of assistance from the AGAMEMNON.
Had the force for which Nelson applied been given him, he could have
attended to both objects; and had he been permitted to attack the convoy
in Alassio, he would have disconcerted the plans of the French, in spite
of the Austrian general. He had foreseen the danger, and pointed out how
it might be prevented; but the means of preventing it were withheld. The
attack was made as he foresaw; and the gun-boats brought their fire to
bear upon the Austrians. It so happened, however, that the left flank,
which was exposed to them, was the only part of the army that behaved
well: this division stood its ground till the centre and the right wing
fled, and then retreated in a soldier-like manner. General de Vins gave up
the command in the middle of the battle, pleading ill health. “From that
moment,” says Nelson, “not a soldier stayed at his post: it was the devil
take the hindmost. Many thousands ran away who had never seen the enemy;
some of them thirty miles from the advanced posts. Had I not, though I
own, against my inclination, been kept at Genoa, from 8000 to 10,000 men
would have been taken prisoners, and, amongst the number, General de Vins
himself; but by this means the pass of the Bocchetta was kept open. The
purser of the ship, who was at Vado, ran with the Austrians eighteen miles
without stopping; the men without arms, officers without soldiers, women
without assistance. The oldest officers say they never heard of so
complete a defeat, and certainly without any reason. Thus has ended my
campaign. We have established the French republic: which but for us, I
verily believe, would never have been settled by such a volatile,
changeable people. I hate a Frenchman: they are equally objects of my
detestation whether royalists or republicans: in some points, I believe,
the latter are the best.” Nelson had a lieutenant and two midshipmen taken
at Vado: they told him, in their letter, that few of the French soldiers
were more than three or four and twenty years old, a great many not more
than fourteen, and all were nearly naked; they were sure, they said, his
barge’s crew could have beat a hundred of them; and that, had he himself
seen them, he would not have thought, if the world had been covered with
such people, that they could have beaten the Austrian army.

The defeat of General de Vins gave the enemy possession of the Genoese
coast from Savona to Voltri, and it deprived the Austrians of their direct
communication with the English fleet. The AGAMEMNON, therefore, could no
longer be useful on this station, and Nelson sailed for Leghorn to refit.
When his ship went into dock, there was not a mast, yard, sail, or any
part of the rigging, but what stood in need of repair, having been cut to
pieces with shot. The hull was so damaged that it had for some time been
secured by cables, which were served or thrapped round it.

CHAPTER IV

1796 – 1797

Sir J. Jervis takes the Command—Genoa joins the French—Bounaparte
begins his Career—Evacuation of Corsica—Nelson hoists his
broad Pennant in the MINERVE—Action with the SABINA—Battle off
Cape St. Vincent—Nelson commands the inner Squadron at the Blockade
of Cadiz Boat Action in the Bay of Cadiz—Expedition against
Teneriffe—Nelson loses an Arm—His Sufferings in England, and
Recovery.

SIR JOHN JERVIS had now arrived to take the command of the Mediterranean
fleet. The AGAMEMNON having, as her captain said, been made as fit for sea
as a rotten ship could be, Nelson sailed from Leghorn, and joined the
admiral in Fiorenzo Bay. “I found him,” said he, “anxious to know many
things which I was a good deal surprised to find had not been communicated
to him by others in the fleet; and it would appear that he was so well
satisfied with my opinion of what is likely to happen, and the means of
prevention to be taken, that he had no reserve with me respecting his
information and ideas of what is likely to be done.” The manner in which
Nelson was received is said to have excited some envy. One captain
observed to him: “You did just as you pleased in Lord Hood’s time, the
same in Admiral Hotham’s, and now again with Sir John Jervis: it makes no
difference to you who is commander-in-chief.” A higher compliment could
not have been paid to any commander-in-chief than to say of him that he
understood the merits of Nelson, and left him, as far as possible, to act
upon his own judgment.

Sir John Jervis offered him the ST. GEORGE, ninety, or the ZEALOUS,
seventy-four, and asked if he should have any objection to serve under him
with his flag. He replied, that if the AGAMEMNON were ordered home, and
his flag were not arrived, he should, on many accounts, wish to return to
England; still, if the war continued, he should be very proud of hoisting
his flag under Sir John’s command, “We cannot spare you,” said Sir John,
“either as captain or admiral.” Accordingly, he resumed his station in the
Gulf of Genoa. The French had not followed up their successes in that
quarter with their usual celerity. Scherer, who commanded there, owed his
advancement to any other cause than his merit: he was a favourite of the
directory; but for the present, through the influence of Barras, he was
removed from a command for which his incapacity was afterwards clearly
proved, and Buonaparte was appointed to succeed him. Buonaparte had given
indications of his military talents at Toulon, and of his remorseless
nature at Paris; but the extent either of his ability or his wickedness
was at this time known to none, and perhaps not even suspected by himself.

Nelson supposed, from the information which he had obtained, that one
column of the French army would take possession of Port Especia; either
penetrating through the Genoese territory, or proceeding coast-ways in
light vessels; our ships of war not being able to approach the coast,
because of the shallowness of the water. To prevent this, he said; two
things were necessary: the possession of Vado Bay, and the taking of Port
Especia; if either of these points were secured, Italy would be safe from
any attack of the French by sea. General Beaulieu, who had now superseded
De Vins in the command of the allied Austrian and Sardinian army, sent his
nephew and aide-de-camp to communicate with Nelson, and inquire whether he
could anchor in any other place than Vado Bay. Nelson replied, that Vado
was the only place where the British fleet could lie in safety, but all
places would suit his squadron; and wherever the general came to the
sea-coast, there he should find it. The Austrian repeatedly asked, if
there was not a risk of losing the squadron? and was constantly answered,
that if these ships should be lost, the admiral would find others. But all
plans of co-operation with the Austrians were soon frustrated by the
battle of Montenotte. Beaulieu ordered an attack to be made upon the post
of Voltri. It was made twelve hours before the time which he had fixed,
and before he arrived to direct it. In consequence, the French were
enabled to effect their retreat, and fall back to Montenotte, thus giving
the troops there a decisive superiority in number over the division which
attacked them. This drew on the defeat of the Austrians. Buonaparte, with
a celerity which had never before been witnessed in modern war, pursued
his advantages; and, in the course of a fortnight, dictated to the court
of Turin terms of peace, or rather of submission; by which all the
strongest places of Piedmont were put into his bands.

On one occasion, and only on one, Nelson was able to impede the progress
of this new conqueror. Six vessels, laden with cannon and ordnance-stores
for the siege of Mantua, sailed from Toulon for St. Pier d’Arena. Assisted
by Captain Cockburn, in the MELEAGER, he drove them under a battery;
pursued them, silenced the batteries, and captured the whole. Military
books, plans and maps of Italy, with the different points marked upon them
where former battles had been fought, sent by the directory for
Buonaparte’s use, were found in the convoy. The loss of this artillery was
one of the chief causes which compelled the French to raise the siege of
Mantua; but there was too much treachery, and too much imbecility, both in
the councils and armies of the allied powers, for Austria to improve this
momentary success. Buonaparte perceived that the conquest of Italy was
within his reach; treaties, and the rights of neutral or of friendly
powers, were as little regarded by him as by the government for which he
acted. In open contempt of both he entered Tuscany, and took possession of
Leghorn. In consequence of this movement, Nelson blockaded that port, and
landed a British force in the Isle of Elba, to secure Porto Ferrajo. Soon
afterwards he took the Island of Capraja, which had formerly belonged to
Corsica, being less than forty miles distant from it; a distance, however,
short as it was, which enabled the Genoese to retain it, after their
infamous sale of Corsica to France. Genoa had now taken part with France:
its government had long covertly assisted the French, and now willingly
yielded to the first compulsory menace which required them to exclude the
English from their ports. Capraja was seized in consequence; but this act
of vigour was not followed up as it ought to have been. England at that
time depended too much upon the feeble governments of the Continent, and
too little upon itself. It was determined by the British cabinet to
evacuate Corsica, as soon as Spain should form an offensive alliance with
France. This event, which, from the moment that Spain had been compelled
to make peace, was clearly foreseen, had now taken place; and orders for
the evacuation of the island were immediately sent out. It was impolitic
to annex this island to the British dominions; but having done so, it was
disgraceful thus to abandon it. The disgrace would have been spared, and
every advantage which could have been derived from the possession of the
island secured, if the people had at first been left to form a government
for themselves, and protected by us in the enjoyment of their
independence.

The viceroy, Sir Gilbert Elliott, deeply felt the impolicy and ignominy of
this evacuation. The fleet also was ordered to leave the Mediterranean.
This resolution was so contrary to the last instructions which had been
received, that Nelson exclaimed, “Do his majesty’s ministers know their
own minds? They at home,” said he, “do not know what this fleet is capable
of performing—anything and everything. Much as I shall rejoice to
see England, I lament our present orders in sackcloth and ashes, so
dishonourable to the dignity of England, whose fleets are equal to meet
the world in arms; and of all the fleets I ever saw, I never beheld one,
in point of officers and men, equal to Sir John Jervis’s, who is a
commander-in-chief able to lead them to glory.” Sir Gilbert Elliott
believed that the great body of the Corsicans were perfectly satisfied, as
they had good reason to be, with the British Government, sensible of its
advantages, and attached to it. However this may have been, when they
found that the English intended to evacuate the island, they naturally and
necessarily sent to make their peace with the French. The partisans of
France found none to oppose them. A committee of thirty took upon them the
government of Bastia, and sequestrated all the British property; armed
Corsicans mounted guard at every place, and a plan was laid for seizing
the viceroy. Nelson, who was appointed to superintend the evacuation,
frustrated these projects. At a time when every one else despaired of
saving stores, cannon, provisions, or property of any kind, and a
privateer was moored across the mole-head to prevent all boats from
passing, he sent word to the committee, that if the slightest opposition
were made to the embarkment and removal of British property, he would
batter the town down. The privateer pointed her guns at the officer who
carried this message, and muskets were levelled against his boats from the
mole-head. Upon this Captain Sutton, of the EGMONT, pulling out his watch,
gave them a quarter of an hour to deliberate upon their answer. In five
minutes after the expiration of that time, the ships, he said, would open
their fire. Upon this the very sentinels scampered off, and every vessel
came out of the mole. A shipowner complained to the commodore that the
municipality refused to let him take his goods out of the custom-house.
Nelson directed him to say, that unless they were instantly delivered, he
would open his fire. The committee turned pale, and, without answering a
word, gave him the keys. Their last attempt was to levy a duty upon the
things that were re-embarked. He sent them word, that he would pay them a
disagreeable visit, if there were any more complaints. The committee then
finding that they had to deal with a man who knew his own power, and was
determined to make the British name respected, desisted from the insolent
conduct which they had assumed; and it was acknowledged that Bastia never
had been so quiet and orderly since the English were in possession of it.
This was on the 14th of October; during the five following days the work
of embarkation was carried on, the private property was saved, and public
stores to the amount of L200,000. The French, favoured by the Spanish
fleet, which was at that time within twelve leagues of Bastia, pushed over
troops from Leghorn, who landed near Cape Corse on the 18th; and on the
20th, at one in the morning, entered the citadel, an hour only after the
British had spiked the guns and evacuated it. Nelson embarked at daybreak,
being the last person who left the shore; having thus, as he said, seen
the first and the last of Corsica. Provoked at the conduct of the
municipality, and the disposition which the populace had shown to profit
by the confusion, he turned towards the shore, as he stepped into his
boat, and exclaimed: “Now, John Corse, follow the natural bent of your
detestable character —plunder and revenge.” This, however, was not
Nelson’s deliberate opinion of the people of Corsica; he knew that their
vices were the natural consequences of internal anarchy and foreign
oppression, such as the same causes would produce in any people; and when
he saw, that of all those who took leave of the viceroy there was not one
who parted from him without tears, he acknowledged that they manifestly
acted not from dislike of the English, but from fear of the French.
England then might, with more reason, reproach her own rulers for
pusillanimity than the Corsicans for ingratitude.

Having thus ably effected this humiliating service, Nelson was ordered to
hoist his broad pendant on board the MINERVE frigate, Captain George
Cockburn, and with the BLANCHE under his command, proceed to Porto
Ferrajo, and superintend the evacuation of that place also. On his way, he
fell in with two Spanish frigates, the SABINA and the CERES. The MINERVE
engaged the former, which was commanded by D. Jacobo Stuart, a descendent
of the Duke of Berwick. After an action of three hours, during which the
Spaniards lost 164 men, the SABINA struck. The Spanish captain, who was
the only surviving officer, had hardly been conveyed on board the MINERVE,
when another enemy’s frigate came up, compelled her to cast off the prize,
and brought her a second time into action. After half an hour’s trial of
strength, this new antagonist wore and hauled off; but a Spanish squadron
of two ships of the line and two frigates came in sight. The BLANCHE, from
which the CERES had got off, was far to windward, and the MINERVE escaped
only by the anxiety of the enemy to recover their own ship. As soon as
Nelson reached Porto Ferrajo he sent his prisoner in a flag of truce to
Carthagena, having returned him his sword; this he did in honour of the
gallantry which D. Jacobo had displayed, and not without some feeling of
respect for his ancestry. “I felt it,” said he, “consonant to the dignity
of my country and I always act as I feel right, without regard to custom;
he was reputed the best officer in Spain, and his men were worthy of such
a commander.” By the same flag of truce he sent back all the Spanish
prisoners at Porto Ferrajo; in exchange for whom he received his own men
who had been taken in the prize.

General de Burgh, who commanded at the Isle of Elba, did not think himself
authorised to abandon the place till he had received specific instructions
from England to that effect; professing that he was unable to decide
between the contradictory orders of government, or to guess at what their
present intentions might be; but he said, his only motive for urging delay
in this measure arose from a desire that his own conduct might be properly
sanctioned, not from any opinion that Porto Ferrajo ought to be retained.
But Naples having made peace, Sir John Jervis considered his business with
Italy as concluded; and the protection of Portugal was the point to which
he was now instructed to attend. Nelson, therefore, whose orders were
perfectly clear and explicit, withdrew the whole naval establishment from
that station, leaving the transports victualled, and so arranged that all
the troops and stores could be embarked in three days. He was now about to
leave the Mediterranean. Mr. Drake, who had been our minister at Genoa,
expressed to him, on this occasion, the very high opinion which the allies
entertained of his conspicuous merit; adding, that it was impossible for
any one, who had the honour of co-operating with him, not to admire the
activity, talents, and zeal which he had so eminently and constantly
displayed. In fact, during this long course of services in the
Mediterranean, the whole of his conduct had exhibited the same zeal, the
same indefatigable energy, the same intuitive judgment, the same prompt
and unerring decision which characterised his after-career of glory. His
name was as yet hardly known to the English public; but it was feared and
respected throughout Italy. A letter came to him, directed “Horatio
Nelson, Genoa;” and the writer, when he was asked how he could direct it
so vaguely, replied, “Sir, there is but one Horatio Nelson in the world.”
At Genoa, in particular, where he had so long been stationed, and where
the nature of his duty first led him to continual disputes with the
government, and afterwards compelled him to stop the trade of the port, he
was equally respected by the doge and by the people; for, while he
maintained the rights and interests of Great Britain with becoming
firmness, he tempered the exercise of power with courtesy and humanity
wherever duty would permit. “Had all my actions,” said he, writing at this
time to his wife, “been gazetted, not one fortnight would have passed,
during the whole war, without a letter from me. One day or other I will
have a long GAZETTE to myself. I feel that such an opportunity will be
given me. I cannot, if I am in the field of glory, be kept out of sight;
wherever there is anything to be done, there Providence is sure to direct
my steps.”

These hopes and anticipations were soon to be fulfilled. Nelson’s mind had
long been irritated and depressed by the fear that a general action would
take place before he could join the fleet. At length he sailed from Porto
Ferrajo with a convoy for Gibraltar; and having reached that place,
proceeded to the westward in search of the admiral. Off the mouth of the
Straits he fell in with the Spanish fleet; and on the 13th of February
reaching the station off Cape St. Vincent, communicated this intelligence
to Sir John Jervis. He was now directed to shift his broad pendant on
board the CAPTAIN, seventy-four, Captain R.W. Miller; and before sunset
the signal was made to prepare for action, and to keep, during the night,
in close order. At daybreak the enemy were in sight. The British force
consisted of two ships of one hundred guns, two of ninety-eight, two of
ninety, eight of seventy-four, and one sixty-four;-fifteen of the line in
all; with four frigates, a sloop, and a cutter. The Spaniards had one
four-decker, of one hundred and thirty-six guns; six three-deckers, of one
hundred and twelve; two eighty-four, eighteen seventy-four—in all,
twenty-seven ships of the line, with ten frigates and a brig. Their
admiral, D. Joseph de Cordova, had learnt from an American on the 5th,
that the English had only nine ships, which was indeed the case when his
informer had seen them; for a reinforcement of five ships from England,
under Admiral Parker, had not then joined, and the CULLODEN had parted
company. Upon this information the Spanish commander, instead of going
into Cadiz, as was his intention when he sailed from Carthagena,
determined to seek an enemy so inferior in force; and relying, with fatal
confidence, upon the American account, he suffered his ships to remain too
far dispersed, and in some disorder. When the morning of the 14th broke,
and discovered the English fleet, a fog for some time concealed their
number. That fleet had heard their signal-guns during the night, the
weather being fine though thick and hazy; soon after daylight they were
seen very much scattered, while the British ships were in a compact little
body. The look-out ship of the Spaniards, fancying that her signal was
disregarded because so little notice seemed to be taken of it, made
another signal, that the English force consisted of forty sail of the
line. The captain afterwards said he did this to rouse the admiral; it had
the effect of perplexing him and alarming the whole fleet. The absurdity
of such an act shows what was the state of the Spanish navy under that
miserable government by which Spain was so long oppressed and degraded,
and finally betrayed. In reality, the general incapacity of the naval
officers was so well known, that in a pasquinade, which about this time
appeared at Madrid, wherein the different orders of the state were
advertised for sale, the greater part of the sea-officers, with all their
equipments, were offered as a gift; and it was added, that any person who
would please to take them, should receive a handsome gratuity. When the
probability that Spain would take part in the war, as an ally of France,
was first contemplated, Nelson said that their fleet, if it were no better
than when it acted in alliance with us, would “soon be done for.”

Before the enemy could form a regular order of battle, Sir J. Jervis, by
carrying a press of sail, came up with them, passed through their fleet,
then tacked, and thus cut off nine of their ships from the main body.
These ships attempted to form on the larboard tack, either with a design
of passing through the British line, or to leeward of it, and thus
rejoining their friends. Only one of them succeeded in this attempt; and
that only because she was so covered with smoke that her intention was not
discovered till she had reached the rear: the others were so warmly
received, that they put about, took to flight, and did not appear again in
the action to its close. The admiral was now able to direct his attention
to the enemy’s main body, which was still superior in number to his whole
fleet, and greatly so in weight of metal. He made signal to tack in
succession. Nelson, whose station was in the rear of the British line,
perceived that the Spaniards were bearing up before the wind, with an
intention of forming their line, going large, and joining their separated
ships, or else of getting off without an engagement. To prevent either of
these schemes, he disobeyed the signal without a moment’s hesitation: and
ordered his ship to be wore. This at once brought him into action with the
SANTISSIMA TRINIDAD, one hundred and thirty-six; the SAN JOSEPH, one
hundred and twelve; the SALVADOR DEL MUNDO, one hundred and twelve; the
SAN NICOLAS, eighty; the SAN ISIDRO, seventy-four, another seventy-four,
and another first-rate. Troubridge, in the CULLODEN, immediately joined,
and most nobly supported him; and for nearly an hour did the CULLODEN and
CAPTAIN maintain what Nelson called “this apparently, but not really
unequal contest;”—such was the advantage of skill and discipline,
and the confidence which brave men derive from them. The BLENHEIM then
passing between them and the enemy, gave them a respite, and poured in her
fire upon the Spaniards. The SALVADOR DEL MUNDO and SAN ISIDRO dropped
astern, and were fired into in a masterly style by the EXCELLENT, Captain
Collingwood. The SAN ISIDRO struck; and Nelson thought that the SALVADOR
struck also. “But Collingwood,” says he, “disdaining the parade of taking
possession of beaten enemies, most gallantly pushed up, with every sail
set, to save his old friend and messmate, who was to appearance in a
critical situation;” for the CAPTAIN was at this time actually fired upon
by three first-rates—by the SAN NICOLAS, and by a seventy-four,
within about pistol-shot of that vessel. The BLENHEIM was ahead, the
CULLODEN crippled and astern. Collingwood ranged up, and hauling up his
mainsail just astern, passed within ten feet of the SAN NICOLAS, giving
her a most tremendous fire, then passed on for the SANTISSIMA TRINIDAD.
The SAN NICOLAS luffing up, the SAN JOSEPH fell on board her, and Nelson
resumed his station abreast of them, and close alongside. The CAPTAIN was
now incapable of further service, either in the line or in chase: she had
lost her foretop-mast; not a sail, shroud, or rope was left, and her wheel
was shot away. Nelson therefore directed Captain Miller to put the helm
a-starboard, and calling for the boarders, ordered them to board.

Captain Berry, who had lately been Nelson’s first lieutenant, was the
first man who leaped into the enemy’s mizen chains. Miller, when in the
very act of going, was ordered by Nelson to remain. Berry was supported
from the spritsail-yard, which locked in the SAN NICOLAS’s main rigging. A
soldier of the 69th broke the upper quarter-gallery window, and jumped in,
followed by the commodore himself and by the others as fast as possible.
The cabin doors were fastened, and the Spanish officers fired their
pistols at them through the window; the doors were soon forced, and the
Spanish brigadier fell while retreating to the quarter-deck. Nelson pushed
on, and found Berry in possession of the poop, and the Spanish ensign
hauling down. He passed on to the forecastle, where he met two or three
Spanish officers, and received their swords. The English were now in full
possession of every part of the ship, when a fire of pistols and musketry
opened upon them from the admiral’s stern-gallery of the SAN JOSEPH.
Nelson having placed sentinels at the different ladders, and ordered
Captain Miller to send more men into the prize, gave orders for boarding
that ship from the SAN NICOLAS. It was done in an instant, he himself
leading the way, and exclaiming, “Westminster Abbey or victory!” Berry
assisted him into the main chains; and at that moment a Spanish officer
looked over the quarter-deck rail, and said they surrendered. It was not
long before he was on the quarter-deck, where the Spanish captain
presented to him his sword, and told him the admiral was below dying of
his wounds. There, on the quarter-deck of an enemy’s first-rate, he
received the swords of the officers, giving them, as they were delivered,
one by one to William Fearney, one of his old AGAMEMNONs, who, with the
utmost coolness, put them under his arm, “bundling them up,” in the lively
expression of Collingwood, “with as much composure as he would have made a
faggot, though twenty-two sail of their line were still within gunshot.”
One of his sailors came up, and with an Englishman’s feeling took him by
the hand, saying he might not soon have such another place to do it in,
and he was heartily glad to see him there. Twenty-four of the CAPTAIN’s
men were killed, and fifty-six wounded; a fourth part of the loss
sustained by the whole squadron falling upon this ship. Nelson received
only a few bruises.

The Spaniards had still eighteen or nineteen ships which had suffered
little or no injury: that part of the fleet which had been separated from
the main body in the morning was now coming up, and Sir John Jervis made
signal to bring to. His ships could not have formed without abandoning
those which they had captured, and running to leeward: the CAPTAIN was
lying a perfect wreck on board her two prizes; and many of the other
vessels were so shattered in their masts and rigging as to be wholly
unmanageable. The Spanish admiral meantime, according to his official
account, being altogether undecided in his own opinion respecting the
state of the fleet, inquired of his captains whether it was proper to
renew the action; nine of them answered explicitly that it was not; others
replied that it was expedient to delay the business. The PELAYO and the
PRINCE CONQUISTADOR were the only ships that were for fighting.

As soon as the action was discontinued, Nelson went on board the admiral’s
ship. Sir John Jervis received him on the quarter-deck, took him in his
arms, and said he could not sufficiently thank him. For this victory the
commander-in-chief was rewarded with the title of Earl St. Vincent.
Nelson, who before the action was known in England had been advanced to
the rank of rear-admiral, had the Order of the Bath given him. The sword
of the Spanish rear-admiral, which Sir John Jervis insisted upon his
keeping, he presented to the Mayor and Corporation of Norwich, saying that
he knew no place where it could give him or his family more pleasure to
have it kept than in the capital city of the county where he was born. The
freedom of that city was voted him on this occasion. But of all the
numerous congratulations which he received, none could have affected him
with deeper delight than that which came from his venerable father. “I
thank my God,” said this excellent man, “with all the power of a grateful
soul, for the mercies he has most graciously bestowed on me in preserving
you. Not only my few acquaintance here, but the people in general, met me
at every corner with such handsome words, that I was obliged to retire
from the public eye. The height of glory to which your professional
judgment, united with a proper degree of bravery, guarded by Providence,
has raised you, few sons, my dear child, attain to, and fewer fathers live
to see. Tears of joy have involuntarily trickled down my furrowed cheeks:
who could stand the force of such general congratulation? The name and
services of Nelson have sounded through this city of Bath—from the
common ballad-singer to the public theatre.” The good old man concluded by
telling him that the field of glory, in which he had so long been
conspicuous, was still open, and by giving him his blessing.

Sir Horatio, who had now hoisted his flag as rear-admiral of the blue, was
sent to bring away the troops from Porto Ferrajo; having performed this,
he shifted his flag to the THESEUS. That ship, had taken part in the
mutiny in England, and being just arrived from home, some danger was
apprehended from the temper of the men. This was one reason why Nelson was
removed to her. He had not been on board many weeks before a paper, signed
in the name of all the ship’s company, was dropped on the quarter-deck,
containing these words: “Success attend Admiral Nelson! God bless Captain
Miller! We thank them for the officers they have placed over us. We are
happy and comfortable, and will shed every drop of blood in our veins to
support them; and the name of the THESEUS shall be immortalised as high as
her captain’s.” Wherever Nelson commanded, the men soon became attached to
him; in ten days’ time he would have restored the most mutinous ship in
the navy to order. Whenever an officer fails to win the affections of
those who are under his command, he may be assured that the fault is
chiefly in himself.

While Sir Horatio was in the THESEUS, he was employed in the command of
the inner squadron at the blockade of Cadiz. During this service, the most
perilous action occurred in which he was ever engaged. Making a night
attack upon the Spanish gun-boats, his barge was attacked by an armed
launch, under their commander, D. Miguel Tregoyen, carrying 26 men. Nelson
had with him only his ten bargemen, Captain Freemantle, and his coxswain,
John Sykes, an old and faithful follower, who twice saved the life of his
admiral by parrying the blows that were aimed at him, and at last actually
interposed his own head to receive the blow of a Spanish sabre, which he
could not by any other means avert; thus dearly was Nelson beloved. This
was a desperate service—hand to hand with swords; and Nelson always
considered that his personal courage was more conspicuous on this occasion
than on any other during his whole life. Notwithstanding the great
disproportion of numbers, 18 of the enemy were killed, all the rest
wounded, and their launch taken. Nelson would have asked for a lieutenancy
for Sykes, if he had served long enough; his manner and conduct, he
observed, were so entirely above his situation, that Nature certainly
intended him for a gentleman; but though he recovered from the dangerous
wound which he received in this act of heroic attachment, he did not live
to profit by the gratitude and friendship of his commander.

Twelve days after this rencontre, Nelson sailed at the head of an
expedition against Teneriffe. A report had prevailed a few months before,
that the viceroy of Mexico, With the treasure ships, had put into that
island. This had led Nelson to meditate the plan of an attack upon it,
which he communicated to Earl St. Vincent. He was perfectly aware of the
difficulties of the attempt. “I do not,” said he, “reckon myself equal to
Blake; but, if I recollect right, he was more obliged to the wind coming
off the land than to any exertions of his own. The approach by sea to the
anchoring-place is under very high land, passing three valleys; therefore
the wind is either in from the sea, or squally with calms from the
mountains:” and he perceived that if the Spanish ships were won, the
object would still be frustrated if the wind did not come off shore. The
land force, he thought, would render success certain; and there were the
troops from Elba, with all necessary stores and artillery, already
embarked. “But here,” said he, “soldiers must be consulted; and I know,
from experience, they have not the same boldness in undertaking a
political measure that we have: we look to the benefit of our country, and
risk our own fame every day to serve her; a soldier obeys his orders, and
no more.” Nelson’s experience at Corsica justified him in this harsh
opinion: he did not live to see the glorious days of the British army
under Wellington. The army from Elba, consisting of 3700 men, would do the
business, he said, in three days, probably in much less time; and he would
undertake, with a very small squadron, to perform the naval part; for
though the shore was not easy of access, the transports might run in and
land the troops in one day.

The report concerning the viceroy was unfounded: but a homeward-bound
Manilla ship put into Santa Cruz at this time, and the expedition was
determined upon. It was not fitted out upon the scale which Nelson had
proposed. Four ships of the line, three frigates, and the FOX cutter,
formed the squadron; and he was allowed to choose such ships and officers
as he thought proper. No troops were embarked; the seamen and marines of
the squadron being thought sufficient. His orders were, to make a vigorous
attack; but on no account to land in person, unless his presence should be
absolutely necessary. The plan was, that the boats should land in the
night, between the fort on the N.E. side of Santa Cruz bay and the town,
make themselves masters of that fort, and then send a summons to the
governor. By midnight, the three frigates, having the force on board which
was intended for this debarkation, approached within three miles of the
place; but owing to a strong gale of wind in the offing, and a strong
current against them in-shore, they were not able to get within a mile of
the landing-place before daybreak; and then they were seen, and their
intention discovered. Troubridge and Bowen, with Captain Oldfield, of the
marines, went upon this to consult with the admiral what was to be done;
and it was resolved that they should attempt to get possession of the
heights above the fort. The frigates accordingly landed their men; and
Nelson stood in with the line-of-battle ships, meaning to batter the fort
for the purpose of distracting the attention of the garrison. A calm and
contrary current hindered him from getting within a league of the shore;
and the heights were by this time so secured, and manned with such a
force, as to be judged impracticable. Thus foiled in his plans by
circumstances of wind and tide, he still considered it a point of honour
that some attempt should be made. This was on the 22nd of July: he
re-embarked his men that night, got the ships on the 24th to anchor about
two miles north of the town, and made show as if he intended to attack the
heights. At six in the evening signal was made for the boats to prepare to
proceed on the service as previously ordered.

When this was done, Nelson addressed a letter to the commander-in-chief—the
last which was ever written with his right hand. “I shall not,” said he,
“enter on the subject, why we are not in possession of Santa Cruz. Your
partiality will give credit, that all has hitherto been done which was
possible, but without effect. This night I, humble as I am, command the
whole destined to land under the batteries of the town; and to-morrow my
head will probably be crowned either with laurel or cypress. I have only
to recommend Josiah Nisbet to you and my country. The Duke of Clarence,
should I fall, will, I am confident, take a lively interest for my
son-in-law, on his name being mentioned.” Perfectly aware how desperate a
service this was likely to prove, before he left the THESEUS he called
Lieutenant Nisbet, who had the watch on deck, into the cabin, that he
might assist in arranging and burning his mother’s letters. Perceiving
that the young man was armed, he earnestly begged him to remain behind.
“Should we both fall, Josiah,” said he, “what will become of your poor
mother! The care of the THESEUS falls to you: stay, therefore, and take
charge of her.” Nisbet replied: “Sir, the ship must take care of herself:
I will go with you to-night, if I never go again.”

He met his captains at supper on board the SEAHORSE, Captain Freemantle,
whose wife, whom he had lately married in the Mediterranean, presided at
table. At eleven o’clock the boats, containing between 600 and 700 men,
with 180 on board the FOX cutter, and from 70 to 80 in a boat which had
been taken the day before, proceeded in six divisions toward the town,
conducted by all the captains of the squadron, except Freemantle and
Bowen, who attended with Nelson to regulate and lead the way to the
attack. They were to land on the mole, and thence hasten as fast as
possible into the great square; then form and proceed as should be found
expedient. They were not discovered till about half-past one o’clock,
when, being within half gun-shot of the landing-place, Nelson directed the
boats to cast off from each other, give a huzza, and push for the shore.
But the Spaniards were exceedingly well prepared; the alarm-bells answered
the huzza, and a fire of thirty or forty pieces of cannon, with musketry
from one end of the town to the other, opened upon the invaders. Nothing,
however, could check the intrepidity with which they advanced. The night
was exceedingly dark: most of the boats missed the mole and went on shore
through a raging surf, which stove all to the left of it. The Admiral,
Freemantle, Thompson, Bowen, and four or five other boats, found the mole:
they stormed it instantly, and carried it, though it was defended, as they
imagined, by 400 or 500 men. Its guns, which were six-and-twenty pounders,
were spiked; but such a heavy fire of musketry and grape was kept up from
the citadel and the houses at the head of the mole, that the assailants
could not advance, and nearly all of them were killed or wounded.

In the act of stepping out of the boat, Nelson received a shot through the
right elbow, and fell; but as he fell he caught the sword, which he had
just drawn, in his left hand, determined never to part with it while he
lived, for it had belonged to his uncle, Captain Suckling, and he valued
it like a relic. Nisbet, who was close to him, placed him at the bottom of
the boat, and laid his hat over the shattered arm, lest the sight of the
blood, which gushed out in great abundance, should increase his faintness.
He then examined the wound, and taking some silk handkerchiefs from his
neck, bound them round tight above the lacerated vessels. Had it not been
for this presence of mind in his son-in-law, Nelson must have perished.
One of his bargemen, by name Level, tore his shirt into shreds, and made a
sling with them for the broken limb. They then collected five other
seamen, by whose assistance they succeeded at length in getting the boat
afloat; for it had grounded with the falling tide. Nisbet took one of the
oars and ordered the steersman to go close under the guns of the battery,
that they might be safe from its tremendous fire. Hearing his voice,
Nelson roused himself, and desired to be lifted up in the boat that he
might look about him. Nisbet raised him up; but nothing could be seen
except the firing of the guns on shore, and what could be discerned by
their flashes upon a stormy sea. In a few minutes a general shriek was
heard from the crew of the FOX, which had received a shot under water, and
went down. Ninety-seven men were lost in her: 83 were saved, many by
Nelson himself, whose exertions on this occasion greatly increased the
pain and danger of his wound. The first ship which the boat could reach
happened to be the SEAHORSE; but nothing could induce him to go on board,
though he was assured that if they attempted to row to another ship it
might be at the risk of his life. “I had rather suffer death,” he replied,
“than alarm Mrs. Freemantle, by letting her see me in this state, when I
can give her no tidings whatever of her husband.” They pushed on for the
THESEUS. When they came alongside he peremptorily refused all assistance
in getting on board, so impatient was he that the boat should return, in
hopes that it might save a few more from the FOX. He desired to have only
a single rope thrown over the side, which he twisted round his left hand,
saying “Let me alone; I have yet my legs left and one arm. Tell the
surgeon to make haste and get his instruments. I know I must lose my right
arm, so the sooner it is off the better.” The spirit which he displayed in
jumping up the ship’s side astonished everybody.

Freemantle had been severely wounded in the right arm soon after the
admiral. He was fortunate enough to find a boat on the beach, and got
instantly to his ship. Thompson was wounded: Bowen killed, to the great
regret of Nelson: as was also one of his own officers, Lieutenant
Weatherhead, who had followed him from the AGAMEMNON, and whom he greatly
and deservedly esteemed. Troubridge, meantime, fortunately for his party,
missed the mole in the darkness, but pushed on shore under the batteries,
close to the south end of the citadel. Captain Waller, of the EMERALD, and
two or three other boats, landed at the same time. The surf was so high
that many others put back. The boats were instantly filled with water and
stove against the rocks; and most of the ammunition in the men’s pouches
was wetted. Having collected a few men they pushed on to the great square,
hoping there to find the admiral and the rest of the force. The ladders
were all lost, so that they could make no immediate attempt on the
citadel; but they sent a sergeant with two of the town’s-people to summon
it: this messenger never returned; and Troubridge having waited about an
hour in painful expectation of his friends, marched to join Captains Hood
and Miller, who had effected their landing to the south-west. They then
endeavoured to procure some intelligence of the admiral and the rest of
the officers, but without success. By daybreak they had gathered together
about eighty marines, eighty pikemen, and one hundred and eighty small-arm
seamen; all the survivors of those who had made good their landing. They
obtained some ammunition from the prisoners whom they had taken, and
marched on to try what could be done at the citadel without ladders. They
found all the streets commanded by field-pieces, and several thousand
Spaniards, with about a hundred French, under arms, approaching by every
avenue. Finding himself without provisions, the powder wet, and no
possibility of obtaining either stores or reinforcements from the ships,
the boats being lost, Troubridge with great presence of mind, sent Captain
Samuel Hood with a flag of truce to the governor to say he was prepared to
burn the town, and would instantly set fire to it if the Spaniards
approached one inch nearer. This, however, if he were compelled to do it,
he should do with regret, for he had no wish to injure the inhabitants;
and he was ready to treat upon these terms—that the British troops
should reembark, with all their arms of every kind, and take their own
boats, if they were saved, or be provided with such others as might be
wanting; they, on their part, engaging that the squadron should not molest
the town, or any of the Canary Islands: all prisoners on both sides to be
given up. When these terms were proposed the governor made answer, that
the English ought to surrender as prisoners of war; but Captain Hood
replied, he was instructed to say, that if the terms were not accepted in
five minutes, Captain Troubridge would set the town on fire and attack the
Spaniards at the point of the bayonet. Satisfied with his success, which
was indeed sufficiently complete, and respecting, like a brave and
honourable man, the gallantry of his enemy, the Spaniard acceded to the
proposal, found boats to re-embark them, their own having all been dashed
to pieces in landing, and before they parted gave every man a loaf and a
pint of wine.

“And here,” says Nelson in his journal, “it is right we should notice the
noble and generous conduct of Don Juan Antonio Gutierrez, the Spanish
governor. The moment the terms were agreed to, he directed our wounded men
to be received into the hospitals, and all our people to be supplied with
the best provisions that could be procured; and made it known that the
ships were at liberty to send on shore and purchase whatever refreshments
they were in want of during the time they might be off the island.” A
youth, by name Don Bernardo Collagon, stripped himself of his shirt to
make bandages for one of those Englishmen against whom, not an hour
before, he had been engaged in battle. Nelson wrote to thank the governor
for the humanity which he had displayed. Presents were interchanged
between them. Sir Horatio offered to take charge of his despatches for the
Spanish Government, and thus actually became the first messenger to Spain
of his own defeat.

The total loss of the English in killed, wounded, and drowned, amounted to
250. Nelson made no mention of his own wound in his official despatches;
but in a private letter to Lord St. Vincent—the first which he wrote
with his left hand—he shows himself to have been deeply affected by
the failure of this enterprise. “I am become,” he said, “a burthen to my
friends, and useless to my country; but by my last letter you will
perceive my anxiety for the promotion of my son-in-law, Josiah Nisbet.
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, 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 carcass
to England.” “A left-handed admiral,” he said in a subsequent letter,
“will never again be considered as useful; therefore the sooner I get to a
very humble cottage the better, and make room for a sounder man to serve
the state.” His first letter to Lady Nelson was written under the same
opinion, but in a more cheerful strain. “It was the chance of war,” said
he, “and I have great reason to be thankful: and I know it will add much
to your pleasure to find that Josiah, under God’s providence, was
principally instrumental in saving my life. I shall not be surprised if I
am neglected and forgotten: probably I shall no longer be considered as
useful; however, I shall feel rich if I continue to enjoy your affection.
I beg neither you nor my father will think much of this mishap; my mind
has long been made up to such an event.”

His son-in-law, according to his wish, was immediately promoted; and
honours enough to heal his wounded spirit awaited him in England. Letters
were addressed to him by the first lord of the Admiralty, and by his
steady friend the Duke of Clarence, to congratulate him on his return,
covered as he was with glory. He assured the Duke, in his reply, that not
a scrap of that ardour with which he had hitherto served his king had been
shot away. The freedom of the cities of Bristol and London were
transmitted to him; he was invested with the Order of the Bath, and
received a pension of L1000 a-year. The memorial which, as a matter of
form, he was called upon to present on this occasion, exhibited an
extraordinary catalogue of services performed during the war. It stated
that he had been in four actions with the fleets of the enemy, and in
three actions with boats employed in cutting out of harbour, in destroying
vessels, and in taking three towns. He had served on shore with the army
four months, and commanded the batteries at the sieges of Basti and Calvi:
he had assisted at the capture of seven sail of the line, six frigates,
four corvettes, and eleven privateers: taken and destroyed near fifty sail
of merchant vessels, and actually been engaged against the enemy upwards
of a hundred and twenty times, in which service he had lost his right eye
and right arm, and been severely wounded and bruised in his body.

His sufferings from the lost limb were long and painful. A nerve had been
taken up in one of the ligatures at the time of the operation; and the
ligature, according to the practice of the French surgeons, was of silk
instead of waxed thread; this produced a constant irritation and
discharge; and the ends of the ligature being pulled every day, in hopes
of bringing it away, occasioned fresh agony. He had scarcely any
intermission of pain, day or night, for three months after his return to
England. Lady Nelson, at his earnest request, attended the dressing of his
arm, till she had acquired sufficient resolution and skill to dress it
herself. One night, during this state of suffering, after a day of
constant pain, Nelson retired early to bed, in hope of enloying some
respite by means of laudanum. He was at that time lodging in Bond Street,
and the family were soon disturbed by a mob knocking loudly and violently
at the door. The news of Duncan’s victory had been made public, and the
house was not illuminated. But when the mob were told that Admiral Nelson
lay there in bed, badly wounded, the foremost of them made answer: “You
shall hear no more from us to-night:” and in fact, the feeling of respect
and sympathy was communicated from one to another with such effect that,
under the confusion of such a night, the house was not molested again.

About the end of November, after a night of sound sleep, he found the arm
nearly free from pain. The surgeon was immediately sent for to examine it;
and the ligature came away with the slightest touch. From that time it
began to heal. As soon as he thought his health established, he sent the
following form of thanksgiving to the minister of St. George’s, Hanover
Square:—”An officer desires to return thanks to Almighty God for his
perfect recovery from a severe wound, and also for the many mercies
bestowed on him.”

Not having been in England till now, since he lost his eye, he went to
receive a year’s pay as smart money; but could not obtain payment, because
he had neglected to bring a certificate from a surgeon that the sight was
actually destroyed. A little irritated that this form should be insisted
upon, because, though the fact was not apparent, he thought it was
sufficiently notorious, he procured a certificate at the same time for the
loss of his arm; saying, they might just as well doubt one as the other.
This put him in good humour with himself, and with the clerk who had
offended him. On his return to the office, the clerk, finding it was only
the annual pay of a captain, observed, he thought it had been more. “Oh!”
replied Nelson, “this is only for an eye. In a few days I shall come for
an arm; and in a little time longer, God knows, most probably for a leg.”
Accordingly he soon afterwards went, and with perfect good humour
exhibited the certificate of the loss of his arm.

CHAPTER V

1798

Nelson rejoins Earl St. Vincent in the VANGUARD—Sails in Pursuit of
the French in Egypt—Returns to Sicily, and sails again to Egypt—Battle
of the Nile.

EARLY in the year 1798, Sir Horatio Nelson hoisted his flag in the
VANGUARD, and was ordered to rejoin Earl St. Vincent. Upon his departure,
his father addressed him with that affectionate solemnity by which all his
letters were distinguished. “I trust in the Lord,” said he, “that He will
prosper your going out and your coming in. I earnestly desired once more
to see you, and that wish has been heard. If I should presume to say, I
hope to see you again, the question would be readily asked, How old art
thou? VALE! VALE! DOMINE, VALE!” It is said that a gloomy foreboding hung
on the spirits of Lady Nelson at their parting. This could have arisen
only from the dread of losing him by the chance of war. Any apprehension
of losing his affections could hardly have existed, for all his
correspondence to this time shows that he thought himself happy in his
marriage; and his private character had hitherto been as spotless as his
public conduct. One of the last things he said to her was, that his own
ambition was satisfied, but that he went to raise her to that rank in
which he had long wished to see her.

Immediately on his rejoining the fleet, he was despatched to the
Mediterranean with a small squadron, in order to ascertain, if possible,
the object of the great expedition which at that time was fitting out
under Buonaparte at Toulon. The defeat of this armament, whatever might be
its destination, was deemed by the British government an object paramount
to every other; and Earl St. Vincent was directed, if he thought it
necessary, to take his whole force into the Mediterranean, to relinquish,
for that purpose, the blockade of the Spanish fleet, as a thing of
inferior moment; but if he should deem a detachment sufficient, “I think
it almost necessary,” said the first lord of the Admiralty in his secret
instructions, “to suggest to you the propriety of putting it under Sir
Horatio Nelson.” It is to the honour of Earl St. Vincent that he had
already made the same choice. This appointment to a service in which so
much honour might be acquired, gave great offence to the senior admirals
of the fleet. Sir William Parker, who was a very excellent naval officer,
and as gallant a man as any in the navy, and Sir John Orde, who on all
occasions of service had acquitted himself with great honour, each wrote
to Lord Spencer, complaining that so marked a preference should have been
given to a junior of the same fleet. This resentment is what most men in a
like case would feel; and if the preference thus given to Nelson had not
originated in a clear perception that (as his friend Collingwood said of
him a little while before) his spirit was equal to all undertakings, and
his resources fitted to all occasions, an injustice would have been done
to them by his appointment. But if the service were conducted with
undeviating respect to seniority, the naval and military character would
soon be brought down to the dead level of mediocrity.

The armament at Toulon consisted of thirteen ships of the line, seven
forty-gun frigates, with twenty-four smaller vessels of war, and nearly
200 transports. Mr. Udney, our consul at Leghorn, was the first person who
procured certain intelligence of the enemy’s design against Malta; and,
from his own sagacity, foresaw that Egypt must be their after object.
Nelson sailed from Gibraltar on the 9th of May, with the VANGUARD, ORION,
and ALEXANDER, seventy-fours; the CAROLINE, FLORA, EMERALD, and
TERPSICHORE, frigates; and the BONNE CITOYENNE, sloop of war, to watch
this formidable armament. On the 19th, when they were in the Gulf of
Lyons, a gale came on from the N.W. It moderated so much on the 20th as to
enable them to get their top-gallant masts and yards aloft. After dark it
again began to blow strong, but the ships had been prepared for a gale,
and therefore Nelson’s mind was easy. Shortly after midnight, however, his
main-topmast went over the side, and the mizentopmast soon afterward. The
night was so tempestuous that it was impossible for any signal either to
be seen or heard; and Nelson determined, as soon as it should be daybreak,
to wear, and scud before the gale; but at half-past three the fore-mast
went in three pieces, and the bowsprit was found to be sprung in three
places.

When day broke they succeeded in wearing the ship with a remnant of the
spritsail. This was hardly to have been expected. The VANGUARD was at that
time twenty-five leagues south of the island of Hieres; with her head
lying to the N.E., and if she had not wore, the ship must have drifted to
Corsica. Captain Ball, in the ALEXANDER, took her in tow, to carry her
into the Sardinian harbour of St. Pietro. Nelson, apprehensive that this
attempt might endanger both vessels, ordered him to cast off; but that
excellent officer, with a spirit like his commanders, replied, he was
confident he could save the VANGUARD, and, by God’s help, he would do it.
There had been a previous coolness between these great men; but from this
time Nelson became fully sensible of the extraordinary talents of Captain
Ball, and a sincere friendship subsisted between them during the remainder
of their lives. “I ought not,” said the admiral, writing to his wife—”I
ought not to call what has happened to the VANGUARD by the cold name of
accident: I believe firmly it was the Almighty’s goodness, to check my
consummate vanity. I hope it has made me a better officer, as I feel
confident it has made me a better man. Figure to yourself, on Sunday
evening at sunset, a vain man walking in his cabin, with a squadron around
him, who looked up to their chief to lead them to glory, and in whom their
chief placed the firmest reliance that the proudest ships of equal numbers
belonging to France would have lowered their flags; figure to yourself, on
Monday morning, when the sun rose, this proud man, his ship dismasted, his
fleet dispersed, and himself in such distress that the meanest frigate out
of France would have been an unwelcome guest.” Nelson had, indeed, more
reason to refuse the cold name of accident to this tempest than he was
then aware of, for on that very day the French fleet sailed from Toulon,
and must have passed within a few leagues of his little squadron, which
was thus preserved by the thick weather that came on.

The British Government at this time, with a becoming spirit, gave orders
that any port in the Mediterranean should be considered as hostile where
the governor or chief magistrate should refuse to let our ships of war
procure supplies of provisions, or of any article which they might
require.

In these orders the ports of Sardinia were excepted. The continental
possessions of the King of Sardinia were at this time completely at the
mercy of the French, and that prince was now discovering, when too late,
that the terms to which he had consented, for the purpose of escaping
immediate danger, necessarily involved the loss of the dominions which
they were intended to preserve. The citadel of Turin was now occupied by
French troops; and his wretched court feared to afford the common rights
of humanity to British ships, lest it should give the French occasion to
seize on the remainder of his dominions—a measure for which it was
certain they would soon make a pretext, if they did not find one. Nelson
was informed that he could not be permitted to enter the port of St
Pietro. Regardless of this interdict, which, under his circumstances, it
would have been an act of suicidal folly to have regarded, he anchored in
the harbour; and, by the exertions of Sir James Saumarez, Captain Ball,
and Captain Berry, the VANGUARD was refitted in four days; months would
have been employed in refitting her in England. Nelson, with that proper
sense of merit, wherever it was found, which proved at once the goodness
and the greatness of his character, especially recommended to Earl St.
Vincent the carpenter of the ALEXANDER, under whose directions the ship
had been repaired; stating, that he was an old and faithful servant of the
Crown, who had been nearly thirty years a warrant carpenter, and begging
most earnestly that the Commander-in-Chief would recommend him to the
particular notice of the Board of Admiralty. He did not leave the harbour
without expressing his sense of the treatment which he had received there,
in a letter to the Viceroy of Sardinia. “Sir,” it said, “having, by a gale
of wind, sustained some trifling damages, I anchored a small part of his
Majesty’s fleet under my orders off this island, and was surprised to
hear, by an officer sent by the governor, that admittance was to be
refused to the flag of his Britannic Majesty into this port. When I
reflect, that my most gracious sovereign is the oldest, I believe, and
certainly the most faithful ally which the King of Sardinia ever had, I
could feel the sorrow which it must have been to his majesty to have given
such an order; and also for your excellency, who had to direct its
execution. I cannot but look at the African shore, where the followers of
Mahomet are performing the part of the good Samaritan, which I look for in
vain at St. Peter’s, where it is said the Christian religion is
professed.”

The delay which was thus occasioned was useful to him in many respects; it
enabled him to complete his supply of water, and to receive a
reinforcement which Earl St. Vincent, being himself reinforced from
England, was enabled to send him. It consisted of the best ships of his
fleet; the CULLODEN, seventy-four, Captain T. Troubridge; GOLIATH,
seventy-four, Captain T. Foley; MINOTAUR, seventy-four, Captain T. Louis;
DEFENCE, seventy-four, Captain John Peyton; BELLEROPHON, seventy-four,
Captain H.D.E. Darby; MAJESTIC, seventy-four, Captain G. B. Westcott;
ZEALOUS, seventy-four, Captain S. Hood; SWIFTSURE, seventy-four, Captain
B. Hallowell; THESEUS, seventy-four, Captain R. W. Miller; AUDACIOUS,
seventy-four, Captain Davidge Gould. The LEANDER, fifty, Captain T. E.
Thompson, was afterwards added. These ships were made ready for the
service as soon as Earl St. Vincent received advice from England that he
was to be reinforced. As soon as the reinforcement was seen from the
mast-head of the admiral’s ship, off Cadiz Bay, signal was immediately
made to Captain Troubridge to put to sea; and he was out of sight before
the ships from home cast anchor in the British station. Troubridge took
with him no instructions to Nelson as to the course he was to steer, nor
any certain account of the enemy’s destination; everything was left to his
own judgment. Unfortunately, the frigates had been separated from him in
the tempest and had not been able to rejoin: they sought him
unsuccessfully in the Bay of Naples, where they obtained no tidings of his
course: and he sailed without them.

The first news of the enemy’s armament was that it had surprised Malta,
Nelson formed a plan for attacking it while at anchor at Gozo; but on the
22nd of June intelligence reached him that the French had left that island
on the 16th, the day after their arrival. It was clear that their
destination was eastward—he thought for Egypt—and for Egypt,
therefore, he made all sail. Had the frigates been with him, he could
scarcely have failed to gain information of the enemy; for want of them,
he only spoke three vessels on the way: two came from Alexandria, one from
the Archipelago, and neither of them had seen anything of the French. He
arrived off Alexandria on the 28th, and the enemy were not there, neither
was there any account of them; but the governor was endeavouring to put
the city in a state of defence, having received advice from Leghorn that
the French expedition was intended against Egypt, after it had taken
Malta. Nelson then shaped his course to the northward for Caramania, and
steered from thence along the southern side of Candia, carrying a press of
sail both night and day, with a contrary wind. It would have been his
delight, he said, to have tried Bonaparte on a wind. It would have been
the delight of Europe, too, and the blessing of the world, if that fleet
had been overtaken with its general on board. But of the myriads and
millions of human beings who would have been preserved by that day’s
victory, there is not one to whom such essential benefit would have
resulted as to Bonaparte himself. It would have spared him his defeat at
Acre—his only disgrace; for to have been defeated by Nelson upon the
seas would not have been disgraceful; it would have spared him all his
after enormities. Hitherto his career had been glorious; the baneful
principles of his heart had never yet passed his lips; history would have
represented him as a soldier of fortune, who had faithfully served the
cause in which he engaged; and whose career had been distinguished by a
series of successes unexampled in modern times. A romantic obscurity would
have hung over the expedition to Egypt, and he would have escaped the
perpetration of those crimes which have incarnadined his soul with a
deeper dye than that of the purple for which he committed them—those
acts of perfidy, midnight murder, usurpation, and remorseless tyranny,
which have consigned his name to universal execration, now and for ever.

Conceiving that when an officer is not successful in his plans it is
absolutely necessary that he should explain the motives upon which they
were founded, Nelson wrote at this time an account and vindication of his
conduct for having carried the fleet to Egypt. The objection which he
anticipated was that he ought not to have made so long a voyage without
more certain information. “My answer,” said he, “is ready. Who was I to
get it from? The governments of Naples and Sicily either knew not, or
chose to keep me in ignorance. Was I to wait patiently until I heard
certain accounts? If Egypt were their object, before I could hear of them
they would have been in India. To do nothing was disgraceful; therefore I
made use of my understanding. I am before your lordships’ judgment; and
if, under all circumstances, it is decided that I am wrong, I ought, for
the sake of our country, to be superseded; for at this moment, when I know
the French are not in Alexandria, I hold the same opinion as off Cape
Passaro—that, under all circumstances, I was right in steering for
Alexandria; and by that opinion I must stand or fall.” Captain Ball, to
whom he showed this paper, told him he should recommend a friend never to
begin a defence of his conduct before he was accused of error: he might
give the fullest reasons for what he had done, expressed in such terms as
would evince that he had acted from the strongest conviction of being
right; and of course he must expect that the public would view it in the
same light. Captain Ball judged rightly of the public, whose first
impulses, though, from want of sufficient information, they must
frequently be erroneous, are generally founded upon just feelings. But the
public are easily misled, and there are always persons ready to mislead
them. Nelson had not yet attained that fame which compels envy to be
silent; and when it was known in England that he had returned after an
unsuccessful pursuit, it was said that he deserved impeachment; and Earl
St. Vincent was severely censured for having sent so young an officer upon
so important a service.

Baffled in his pursuit, he returned to Sicily. The Neapolitan ministry had
determined to give his squadron no assistance, being resolved to do
nothing which could possibly endanger their peace with the French
Directory; by means, however, of Lady Hamilton’s influence at court, he
procured secret orders to the Sicilian governors; and under those orders
obtained everything which he wanted at Syracuse—a timely supply;
without which, he always said, he could not have recommenced his pursuit
with any hope of success. “It is an old saying,” said he in his letter,
“that the devil’s children have the devil’s luck. I cannot to this moment
learn, beyond vague conjecture, where the French fleet have gone to; and
having gone a round of 600 leagues, at this season of the year, with an
expedition incredible, here I am, as ignorant of the situation of the
enemy as I was twenty-seven days ago. Every moment I have to regret the
frigates having left me; had one-half of them been with me, I could not
have wanted information. Should the French be so strongly secured in port
that I cannot get at them, I shall immediately shift my flag into some
other ship, and send the VANGUARD to Naples to be refitted; for hardly any
person but myself would have continued on service so long in such a
wretched state.” Vexed, however, and disappointed as he was, Nelson, with
the true spirit of a hero, was still full of hope. “Thanks to your
exertions,” said he, writing to Sir. William and Lady Hamilton, “we have
victualled and watered; and surely watering at the fountain of Arethusa,
we must have victory. We shall sail with the first breeze; and be assured
I will return either crowned with laurel or covered with cypress.” Earl
St. Vincent he assured, that if the French were above water he would find
them out: he still held his opinion that they were bound for Egypt: “but,”
said he to the First Lord of the Admiralty, “be they bound to the
Antipodes, your lordship may rely that I will not lose a moment in
bringing them to action.”

On the 25th of July he sailed from Syracuse for the Morea. Anxious beyond
measure, and irritated that the enemy should so long have eluded him, the
tediousness of the nights made him impatient; and the officer of the watch
was repeatedly called on to let him know the hour, and convince him, who
measured time by his own eagerness, that it was not yet daybreak. The
squadron made the Gulf of Coron on the 28th. Troubridge entered the port,
and returned with intelligence that the French fleet had been seen about
four weeks before steering to the S.E. from Candia. Nelson then determined
immediately to return to Alexandria; and the British fleet accordingly,
with every sail set, stood once more for the coast of Egypt. On the 1st of
August, about 10 in the morning, they came in sight of Alexandria: the
port had been vacant and solitary when they saw it last; it was now
crowded with ships; and they perceived with exultation that the
tri-coloured flag was flying upon the walls. At four in the afternoon,
Captain Hood, in the ZEALOUS, made the signal for the enemy’s fleet. For
many preceding days Nelson had hardly taken either sleep or food: he now
ordered his dinner to be served, while preparations were making for
battle; and when his officers rose from table, and went to their separate
stations, he said to them, “Before this time to-morrow I shall have gained
a peerage or Westminster Abbey.”

The French, steering direct for Candia, had made an angular passage for
Alexandria; whereas Nelson, in pursuit of them, made straight for that
place, and thus materially shortened the distance. The comparative
smallness of his force made it necessary to sail in close order, and it
covered a less space than it would have done if the frigates had been with
him: the weather also was constantly hazy. These circumstances prevented
the English from discovering the enemy on the way to Egypt, though it
appeared, upon examining the journals of the French officers taken in the
action, that the two fleets must actually have crossed on the night of the
22nd of June. During the return to Syracuse, the chances of falling in
with them were become fewer.

Why Buonaparte, having effected his landing, should not have suffered the
fleet to return, has never yet been explained. This much is certain, that
it was detained by his command, though, with his accustomed falsehood, he
accused Admiral Brueys, after that officer’s death, of having lingered on
the coast contrary to orders. The French fleet arrived at Alexandria on
the 1st of July, and Brueys, not being able to enter the port, which time
and neglect had ruined, moored his ships in Aboukir Bay, in a strong and
compact line of battle; the headmost vessel, according to his own account,
being as close as possible to a shoal on the N.W., and the rest of the
fleet forming a kind of curve along the line of deep water, so as not to
be turned by any means in the S.W. By Buonaparte’s desire he had offered a
reward of 10,000 livres to any pilot of the country who would carry the
squadron in, but none could be found who would venture to take charge of a
single vessel drawing more than twenty feet. He had therefore made the
best of his situation, and chosen the strongest position which he could
possibly take in an open road. The commissary of the fleet said they were
moored in such a manner as to bid defiance to a force more than double
their own. This presumption could not then be thought unreasonable.
Admiral Barrington, when moored in a similar manner off St. Lucia, in the
year 1778, beat off the Comte d’Estaign in three several attacks, though
his force was inferior by almost one-third to that which assailed it.
Here, the advantage in numbers, both in ships, guns, and men, was in
favour of the French. They had thirteen ships of the line and four
frigates, carrying 1196 guns and 11,230 men. The English had the same
number of ships of the line and one fifty-gun ship, carrying 1012 guns and
8068 men. The English ships were all seventy-fours; the French had three
eighty-gun ships, and one three-decker of one hundred and twenty.

During the whole pursuit it had been Nelson’s practice, whenever
circumstances would permit, to have his captains on board the VANGUARD,
and explain to them his own ideas of the different and best modes of
attack, and such plans as he proposed to execute on falling in with the
enemy, whatever their situation might be. There is no possible position,
it is said, which he did not take into calculation. His officers were thus
fully acquainted with his principles of tactics; and such was his
confidence in their abilities that the only thing determined upon, in case
they should find the French at anchor, was for the ships to form as most
convenient for their mutual support, and to anchor by the stern. “First
gain the victory,” he said, “and then make the best use of it you can.”
The moment he perceived the position of the French, that intuitive genius
with which Nelson was endowed displayed itself; and it instantly struck
him that where there was room for an enemy’s ship to swing, there was room
for one of ours to anchor. The plan which he intended to pursue,
therefore, was to keep entirely on the outer side of the French line, and
station his ships, as far as he was able, one on the outer bow, and
another on the outer quarter, of each of the enemy’s. This plan of
doubling on the enemy’s ships was projected by Lord Hood, when he designed
to attack the French fleet at their anchorage in Gourjean Road. Lord Hood
found it impossible to make the attempt; but the thought was not lost upon
Nelson, who acknowledged himself, on this occasion, indebted for it to his
old and excellent commander. Captain Berry, when he comprehended the scope
of the design, exclaimed with transport, “If we succeed, what will the
world say?” “There is no IF in the case,” replied the admiral: “that we
shall succeed is certain; who may live to tell the story is a very
different question.”

As the squadron advanced, they were assailed by a shower of shot and
shells from the batteries on the island, and the enemy opened a steady
fire from the starboard side of their whole line, within half gunshot
distance, full into the bows of our van ships. It was received in silence:
the men on board every ship were employed aloft in furling sails, and
below in tending the braces and making ready for anchoring. A miserable
sight for the French; who, with all their skill, and all their courage,
and all their advantages of numbers and situation, were upon that element
on which, when the hour of trial comes, a Frenchman has no hope. Admiral
Brueys was a brave and able man; yet the indelible character of his
country broke out in one of his letters, wherein he delivered it as his
private opinion, that the English had missed him, because, not being
superior in force, they did not think it prudent to try their strength
with him. The moment was now come in which he was to be undeceived.

A French brig was instructed to decoy the English by manoeuvring so as to
tempt them toward a shoal lying off the island of Bekier; but Nelson
either knew the danger or suspected some deceit; and the lure was
unsuccessful. Captain Foley led the way in the GOLIATH, outsailing the
ZEALOUS, which for some minutes disputed this post of honour with him. He
had long conceived that if the enemy were moored in line of battle in with
the land, the best plan of attack would be to lead between them and the
shore, because the French guns on that side were not likely to be manned,
nor even ready for action. Intending, therefore, to fix himself on the
inner bow of the GUERRIER, he kept as near the edge of the bank as the
depth of water would admit; but his anchor hung, and having opened his
fire he drifted to the second ship, the CONQUERANT, before it was clear;
then anchored by the stern inside of her, and in ten minutes shot away her
mast. Hood, in the ZEALOUS, perceiving this, took the station which the
GOLIATH intended to have occupied, and totally disabled the GUERRIER in
twelve minutes. The third ship which doubled the enemy’s van was the
ORION, Sir J. Saumarez; she passed to windward of the ZEALOUS, and opened
her larboard guns as long as they bore on GUERRIER; then, passing inside
the GOLIATH, sunk a frigate which annoyed her, hauled round toward the
French line, and anchoring inside, between the fifth and sixth ships from
the GUERRIER, took her station on the larboard bow of the FRANKLIN and the
quarter of the PEUPLE SOUVERAIN, receiving and returning the fire of both.
The sun was now nearly down. The AUDACIOUS, Captain Could, pouring a heavy
fire into the GUERRIER and the CONQUERANT, fixed herself on the larboard
bow of the latter, and when that ship struck, passed on to the PEUPLE
SOUVERAIN. The THESEUS, Capt Miller, followed, brought down the GUERRIER’s
remaining main and mizzen masts, then anchored inside of the SPARTIATE,
the third in the French line.

While these advanced ships doubled the French line, the VANGUARD was the
first that anchored on the outer side of the enemy, within half
pistol-shot of their third ship, the SPARTIATE. Nelson had six colours
flying in different parts of his rigging, lest they should be shot away;
that they should be struck, no British admiral considers as a possibility.
He veered half a cable, and instantly opened a tremendous fire; under
cover of which the other four ships of his division, the MINOTAUR,
BELLEROPHON, DEFENCE, and MAJESTIC, sailed on ahead of the admiral. In a
few minutes, every man stationed at the first six guns in the fore part of
the VANGUARD’s deck was killed or wounded. These guns were three times
cleared. Captain Louis, in the MINOTAUR, anchored just ahead, and took off
the fire of the AQUILON, the fourth in the enemy’s line. The BELLEROPHON,
Captain Darby, passed ahead, and dropped her stern anchor on the starboard
bow of the ORIENT, seventh in the line, Brueys’ own ship, of one hundred
and twenty guns, whose difference of force was in proportion of more than
seven to three, and whose weight of ball, from the lower deck alone,
exceeded that from the whole broadside of the BELLEROPHON. Captain Peyton,
in the DEFENCE, took his station ahead of the MINOTAUR, and engaged the
FRANKLIN, the sixth in the line, by which judicious movement the British
line remained unbroken. The MAJESTIC, Captain Westcott, got entangled with
the main rigging of one of the French ships astern of the ORIENT, and
suffered dreadfully from that three-decker’s fire; but she swung clear,
and closely engaging the HEUREUX, the ninth ship on the starboard bow,
received also the fire of the TONNANT, which was the eighth in the line.
The other four ships of the British squadron, having been detached
previous to the discovery of the French, were at a considerable distance
when the action began. It commenced at half after six; about seven night
closed, and there was no other light than that from the fire of the
contending fleets.

Troubridge, in the CULLODEN, then foremost of the remaining ships, was two
leagues astern. He came on sounding, as the others had done: as he
advanced, the increasing darkness increased the difficulty of the
navigation; and suddenly, after having found eleven fathoms water, before
the lead could be hove again he was fast aground; nor could all his own
exertions, joined with those of the LEANDER and the MUTINE brig, which
came to his assistance, get him off in time to bear a part in the action.
His ship, however, served as a beacon to the ALEXANDER and SWIFTSURE,
which would else, from the course which they were holding, have gone
considerably further on the reef, and must inevitably have been lost.
These ships entered the bay, and took their stations in the darkness, in a
manner still spoken of with admiration by all who remember it. Captain
Hallowell, in the SWIFTSURE, as he was bearing down, fell in with what
seemed to be a strange sail. Nelson had directed his ships to hoist four
lights horizontally at the mizzen peak as soon as it became dark; and this
vessel had no such distinction. Hallowell, however, with great judgment,
ordered his men not to fire: if she was an enemy, he said, she was in too
disabled a state to escape; but from her sails being loose, and the way in
which her head was, it was probable she might be an English ship. It was
the BELLEROPHON, overpowered by the huge ORIENT: her lights had gone
overboard, nearly 200 of her crew were killed or wounded, all her masts
and cables had been shot away; and she was drifting out of the line toward
the leeside of the bay. Her station, at this important time, was occupied
by the SWIFTSURE, which opened a steady fire on the quarter of the
FRANKLIN and the bows of the French admiral. At the same instant, Captain
Ball, with the ALEXANDER, passed under his stern, and anchored within-side
on his larboard quarter, raking; him, and keeping up a severe fire of
musketry upon his decks. The last ship which arrived to complete the
destruction of the enemy was the LEANDER. Captain Thompson, finding that
nothing could be done that night to get off the CULLODEN, advanced with
the intention of anchoring athwart-hawse of the ORIENT. The FRANKLIN was
so near her ahead that there was not room for him to pass clear of the
two; he therefore took his station athwart-hawse of the latter in such a
position as to rake both.

The two first ships of the French line had been dismasted within a quarter
of an hour after the commencement of the action; and the others had in
that time suffered so severely that victory was already certain. The
third, fourth, and fifth were taken possession of at half-past eight.

Meantime Nelson received a severe wound on the head from a piece of
langridge shot. Captain Berry caught him in his arms as he was falling.
The great effusion of blood occasioned an apprehension that the wound was
mortal: Nelson himself thought so; a large flap of the skin of the
forehead, cut from the bone, had fallen over one eye; and the other being
blind, he was in total darkness. When he was carried down, the surgeon—in
the midst of a scene scarcely to be conceived by those who have never seen
a cockpit in time of action, and the heroism which is displayed amid its
horrors,—with a natural and pardonable eagerness, quitted the poor
fellow then under his hands, that he might instantly attend the admiral.
“No!” said Nelson, “I will take my turn with my brave fellows.” Nor would
he suffer his own wound to be examined till every man who had been
previously wounded was properly attended to. Fully believing that the
wound was mortal, and that he was about to die, as he had ever desired, in
battle, and in victory, he called the chaplain, and desired him to deliver
what he supposed to be his dying remembrance to lady Nelson; he then sent
for Captain Louis on board from the MINOTAUR, that he might thank him
personally for the great assistance which he had rendered to the VANGUARD;
and ever mindful of those who deserved to be his friends, appointed
Captain Hardy from the brig to the command of his own ship, Captain Berry
having to go home with the news of the victory. When the surgeon came in
due time to examine his wound (for it was in vain to entreat him to let it
be examined sooner), the most anxious silence prevailed; and the joy of
the wounded men, and of the whole crew, when they heard that the hurt was
merely superficial, gave Nelson deeper pleasure than the unexpected
assurance that his life was in no danger. The surgeon requested, and as
far as he could, ordered him to remain quiet; but Nelson could not rest.
He called for his secretary, Mr. Campbell, to write the despatches.
Campbell had himself been wounded, and was so affected at the blind and
suffering state of the admiral that he was unable to write. The chaplain
was then sent for; but before he came, Nelson with his characteristic
eagerness took the pen, and contrived to trace a few words, marking his
devout sense of the success which had already been obtained. He was now
left alone; when suddenly a cry was heard on the deck that the ORIENT was
on fire. In the confusion he found his way up, unassisted and unnoticed;
and, to the astonishment of every one, appeared on the quarter-decks where
he immediately gave order that the boats should be sent to the relief of
the enemy.

It was soon after nine that the fire on, board the ORIENT broke out.
Brueys was dead; he had received three wounds, yet would not leave his
post: a fourth cut him almost in two. He desired not to be carried below,
but to be left to die upon deck. The flames soon mastered his ship. Her
sides had just been painted; and the oil-jars and paint buckets were lying
on the poop. By the prodigious light of this conflagration, the situation
of the two fleets could now be perceived, the colours of both being
clearly distinguishable. About ten o’clock the ship blew up, with a shock
which was felt to the very bottom of every vessel. Many of her officers
and men jumped overboard, some clinging to the spars and pieces of wreck
with which the sea was strewn, others swimming to escape from the
destruction which they momently dreaded. Some were picked up by our boats;
and some even in the heat and fury of the action were dragged into the
lower ports of the nearest British ships by the British sailors. The
greater part of her crew, however, stood the danger till the last, and
continued to fire from the lower deck. This tremendous explosion was
followed by a silence not less awful: the firing immediately ceased on
both sides; and the first sound which broke the silence, was the dash of
her shattered masts and yards, falling into the water from the vast height
to which they had been exploded. It is upon record that a battle between
two armies was once broken off by an earthquake. Such an event would be
felt like a miracle; but no incident in war, produced by human means, has
ever equalled the sublimity of this co-instantaneous pause, and all its
circumstances.

About seventy of the ORIENT’s crew were saved by the English boats. Among
the many hundreds who perished were the commodore, Casa-Bianca, and his
son, a brave boy, only ten years old. They were seen floating on a
shattered mast when the ship blew up. She had money on board (the plunder
of Malta) to the amount of L600,000 sterling. The masses of burning wreck,
which were scattered by the explosion, excited for some moments
apprehensions in the English which they had never felt from any other
danger. Two large pieces fell into the main and fore tops of the SWIFTSURE
without injuring any person. A port-fire also fell into the main-royal of
the ALEXANDER; the fire which it occasioned was speedily extinguished.
Captain Ball had provided, as far as human foresight could provide,
against any such danger. All the shrouds and sails of his ship, not
absolutely necessary for its immediate management, were thoroughly wetted,
and so rolled up that they were as hard and as little inflammable as so
many solid cylinders.

The firing recommenced with the ships to leeward of the centre, and
continued till about three. At daybreak, the GUILLAUME TELL and the
GENEREUX, the two rear ships of the enemy, were the only French ships of
the line which had their colours flying; they cut their cables in the
forenoon, not having been engaged, and stood out to sea, and two frigates
with them. The ZEALOUS pursued; but as there was no other ship in a
condition to support Captain Hood, he was recalled. It was generally
believed by the officers that if Nelson had not been wounded, not one of
these ships could have escaped. The four certainly could not if the
CULLODEN had got into action; and if the frigates belonging to the
squadron had been present, not one of the enemy’s fleet would have left
Aboukir Bay. These four vessels, however, were all that escaped; and the
victory was the most complete and glorious in the annals of naval history.
“Victory,” said Nelson, “is not a name strong enough for such a scene:” he
called it a conquest. Of thirteen sail of the line, nine were taken and
two burned. Of the four frigates, one was sunk, another, the ARTEMISE, was
burned in a villanous manner by her captain, M. Estandlet, who, having
fired a broadside at the THESEUS, struck his colours, then set fire to the
ship and escaped with most of his crew to shore. The British loss, in
killed and wounded, amounted to 895 Westcott was the only captain who
fell; 3105 of the French, including the wounded, were sent on shore by
cartel, and 5225 perished.

As soon as the conquest was completed, Nelson sent orders through the
fleet to return thanksgiving in every ship for the victory with which
Almighty God had blessed his majesty’s arms. The French at Rosetta, who
with miserable fear beheld the engagement, were at a loss to understand
the stillness of the fleet during the performance of this solemn duty; but
it seemed to affect many of the prisoners, officers as well as men; and
graceless and godless as the officers were, some of them remarked that it
was no wonder such order was Preserved in the British navy, when the minds
of our men could be Impressed with such sentiments after so great a
victory, and at a moment of such confusion. The French at Rosetta, seeing
their four ships sail out of the bay unmolested, endeavoured to persuade
themselves that they were in possession of the place of battle. But it was
in vain thus to attempt, against their own secret and certain conviction,
to deceive themselves; and even if they could have succeeded in this, the
bonfires which the Arabs kindled along the whole coast, and over the
country, for the three following nights, would soon have undeceived them.
Thousands of Arabs and Egyptians lined the shore, and covered the house
tops during the action, rejoicing in the destruction which had overtaken
their invaders. Long after the battle, innumerable bodies were seen
floating about the bay, in spite of all the exertions which were made to
sink them, as well from fear of pestilence as from the loathing and horror
which the sight occasioned. Great numbers were cast up upon the Isle of
Bekier (Nelson’s Island, as it has since been called), and our sailors
raised mounds of sand over them. Even after an interval of nearly three
years Dr. Clarke saw them, and assisted in interring heaps of human
bodies, which, having been thrown up by the sea where there were no
jackals to devour them, presented a sight loathsome to humanity. The
shore, for an extent of four leagues, was covered with wreck; and the
Arabs found employment for many days in burning on the beach the fragments
which were cast up, for the sake of the iron. Part of the ORIENT’s
main-mast was picked up by the SWIFTSURE. Captain Hallowell ordered his
carpenter to make a coffin of it; the iron, as well as the wood, was taken
from the wreck of the same ship; it was finished as well and handsomely as
the workman’s skill and materials would permit; and Hallowell then sent it
to the admiral with the following letter:—”Sir, I have taken the
liberty of presenting you a coffin made from the main mast of L’ORIENT,
that when you have finished your military career in this world you may be
buried in one of your trophies. But that that period may be far distant is
the earnest wish of your sincere friend, Benjamin Hallowell.”—An
offering so strange, and yet so suited to the occasion, was received by
Nelson in the spirit with which it was sent. As if he felt it good for
him, now that he was at the summit of his wishes, to have death before his
eyes, he ordered the coffin to be placed upright in his cabin. Such a
piece of furniture, however, was more suitable to his own feelings than to
those of his guests and attendants; and an old favourite servant entreated
him so earnestly to let it be removed, that at length he consented to have
the coffin carried below; but he gave strict orders that it should be
safely stowed, and reserved for the purpose for which its brave and worthy
donor had designed it.

The victory was complete; but Nelson could not pursue it as he would have
done for want of means. Had he been provided with small craft, nothing
could have prevented the destruction of the store-ships and transports in
the port of Alexandria: four bomb-vessels would at that time have burned
the whole in a few hours. “Were I to die this moment.” said he in his
despatches to the Admiralty, “WANT OF FRIGATES would be found stamped on
my heart! No words of mine can express what I have suffered, and am
suffering, for want of them.” He had also to bear up against great bodily
suffering: the blow had so shaken his head, that from its constant and
violent aching, and the perpetual sickness which accompanied the pain, he
could scarcely persuade himself that the skull was not fractured. Had it
not been for Troubridge, Ball, Hood, and Hallowell, he declared that he
should have sunk under the fatigue of refitting the squadron. “All,” he
said, “had done well; but these officers were his supporters.” But, amidst
his sufferings and exertions, Nelson could yet think of all the
consequences of his victory; and that no advantage from it might be lost,
he despatched an officer overland to India, with letters to the governor
of Bombay, informing him of the arrival of the French in Egypt, the total
destruction of their fleet, and the consequent preservation of India from
any attempt against it on the part of this formidable armament. “He knew
that Bombay,” he said, “was their first object, if they could get there;
but he trusted that Almighty God would overthrow in Egypt these pests of
the human race. Buonaparte had never yet had to contend with an English
officer, and he would endeavour to make him respect us.” This despatch he
sent upon his own responsibility, with letters of credit upon the East
India Company, addressed to the British consuls, vice-consuls, and
merchants on his route; Nelson saying, “that if he had done wrong, he
hoped the bills would be paid, and he would repay the Company; for, as an
Englishman, he should be proud that it had been in his power to put our
settlements on their guard.” The information which by this means reached
India was of great importance. Orders had just been received for defensive
preparations, upon a scale proportionate to the apprehended danger; and
the extraordinary expenses which would otherwise have been incurred were
thus prevented.

Nelson was now at the summit of glory; congratulations, rewards, and
honours were showered upon him by all the states, and princes, and powers
to whom his victory gave a respite. The first communication of this nature
which he received was from the Turkish sultan, who, as soon as the
invasion of Egypt was known, had called upon “all true believers to take
arms against those swinish infidels the French, that they might deliver
these blessed habitations from their accursed hands;” and who had ordered
his “pashas to turn night into day in their efforts to take vengeance.”
The present of “his imperial majesty, the powerful, formidable, and most
magnificent Grand Seignior,” was a pelisse of sables, with broad sleeves,
valued at 5000 dols.; and a diamond aigrette, valued at 18,000 dols., the
most honourable badge among the Turks; and in this instance more
especially honourable, because it was taken from one of the royal turbans.
“If it were worth a million,” said Nelson to his wife, “my pleasure would
be to see it in your possession.” The sultan also sent, in a spirit worthy
of imitation, a purse of 2000 sequins, to be distributed among the
wounded. The mother of the sultan sent him a box, set with diamonds,
valued at L1000. The Czar Paul, in whom the better part of his strangely
compounded nature at this time predominated, presented him with his
portrait, set in diamonds, in a gold box, accompanied with a letter of
congratulation, written by his own hand. The king of Sardinia also wrote
to him, and sent a gold box set with diamonds. Honours in profusion were
awaiting him at Naples. In his own country the king granted these
honourable augmentations to his armorial ensign: a chief undulated,
ARGENT: thereon waves of the sea; from which a palm tree issuant, between
a disabled ship on the dexter, and a ruinous battery on the sinister all
proper; and for his crest, on a naval crown, OR, the chelengk, or plume,
presented to him by the Turk, with the motto, PALMAM QUI MERUIT FERAT. And
to his supporters, being a sailor on the dexter, and a lion on the
sinister, were given these honourable augmentations: a palm branch in the
sailor’s hand, and another in the paw of the lion, both proper; with a
tri-coloured flag and staff in the lion’s mouth. He was created Baron
Nelson of the Nile, and of Burnham Thorpe, with a pension of L2000 for his
own life, and those of his two immediate successors. When the grant was
moved in the House of Commons, General Walpole expressed an opinion that a
higher degree of rank ought to be conferred. Mr. Pitt made answer, that he
thought it needless to enter into that question. “Admiral Nelson’s fame,”
he said, “would be co-equal with the British name; and it would be
remembered that he had obtained the greatest naval victory on record, when
no man would think of asking whether he had been created a baron, a
viscount, or an earl.” It was strange that, in the very act of conferring
a title, the minister should have excused himself for not having conferred
a higher one, by representing all titles, on such an occasion, as nugatory
and superfluous. True, indeed, whatever title had been bestowed, whether
viscount, earl, marquis, duke, or prince, if our laws had so permitted, he
who received it would have been Nelson still. That name he had ennobled
beyond all addition of nobility; it was the name by which England loved
him, France feared him, Italy, Egypt, and Turkey celebrated him, and by
which he will continue to be known while the present kingdoms and
languages of the world endure, and as long as their history after them
shall be held in remembrance. It depended upon the degree of rank what
should be the fashion of his coronet, in what page of the red book his
name was to be inserted, and what precedency should be allowed his lady in
the drawing-room and at the ball. That Nelson’s honours were affected thus
far, and no further, might be conceded to Mr. Pitt and his colleagues in
administration; but the degree of rank which they thought proper to allot
was the measure of their gratitude, though not of his service. This Nelson
felt, and this he expressed, with indignation, among his friends.

Whatever may have been the motives of the ministry, and whatever the
formalities with which they excused their conduct to themselves, the
importance and magnitude of the victory were universally acknowledged. A
grant of L10,000 was voted to Nelson by the East India Company; the
Turkish Company presented him with a piece of plate; the City of London
presented a sword to him, and to each of his captains; gold medals were
distributed to the captains; and the first lieutenants of all the ships
were promoted, as had been done after Lord Howe’s victory. Nelson was
exceedingly anxious that the captain and first lieutenant of the CULLODEN
should not be passed over because of their misfortune. To Troubridge
himself he said, “Let us rejoice that the ship which got on shore was
commanded by an officer whose character is so thoroughly established.” To
the Admiralty he stated that Captain Troubridge’s conduct was as fully
entitled to praise as that of any one officer in the squadron, and as
highly deserving of reward. “It was Troubridge,” said he, “who equipped
the squadron so soon at Syracuse; it was Troubridge who exerted himself
for me after the action; it was Troubridge who saved the CULLODEN, when
none that I know in the service would have attempted it.” The gold medal,
therefore, by the king’s express desire, was given to Captain Troubridge,
“for his services both before and since, and for the great and wonderful
exertion which he made at the time of the action in saving and getting off
his ship.” The private letter from the Admiralty to Nelson informed him
that the first lieutenants of all the ships ENGAGED were to be promoted.
Nelson instantly wrote to the commander-in-chief: “I sincerely hope,” said
he, “this is not intended to exclude the first lieutenant of the CULLODEN.
For heaven’s sake—for my sake, if it be so—get it altered. Our
dear friend Troubridge has endured enough. His sufferings were, in every
respect, more than any of us.” To the Admiralty he wrote in terms equally
warm. “I hope, and believe, the word ENGAGED is not intended to exclude
the CULLODEN. The merits of that ship, and her gallant Captain, are too
well known to benefit by anything I could say. Her misfortune was great in
getting aground, while her more fortunate companions were in the full tide
of happiness. No: I am confident that my good Lord Spencer will never add
misery to misfortune. Captain Troubridge on shore is superior to captains
afloat: in the midst of his great misfortunes he made those signals which
prevented certainly the ALEXANDER and SWIFTSURE from running on the
shoals. I beg your pardon for writing on a subject which, I verily
believe, has never entered your lordship’s head; but my heart, as it ought
to be, is warm to my gallant friends.” Thus feelingly alive was Nelson to
the claims, and interests, and feelings of others. The Admiralty replied,
that the exception was necessary, as the ship had not been in action; but
they desired the commander-in-chief to promote the lieutenant upon the
first vacancy which should occur.

Nelson, in remembrance of an old and uninterrupted friendship, appointed
Alexander Davison sole prize agent for the captured ships: upon which
Davison ordered medals to be struck in gold, for the captains; in silver,
for the lieutenants and warrant officers; in gilt metal for the petty
officers; and in copper for the seamen and marines. The cost of this act
of liberality amounted nearly to L2000. It is worthy of record on another
account;—for some of the gallant men, who received no other honorary
badge of their conduct on that memorable day than this copper medal from a
private individual, years afterwards, when they died upon a foreign
station, made it their last request, that the medals might carefully be
sent home to their respective friends. So sensible are brave men of
honour, in whatever rank they may be placed.

Three of the frigates, whose presence would have been so essential a few
weeks sooner, joined the squadron on the twelfth day after the action. The
fourth joined a few days after them. Nelson thus received despatches,
which rendered it necessary for him to return to Naples. Before he left
Egypt he burned three of the prizes; they could not have been fitted for a
passage to Gibraltar in less than a month, and that at a great expense,
and with the loss of the services of at least two sail of the line. “I
rest assured,” he said to the Admiralty, “that they will be paid for, and
have held out that assurance to the squadron. For if an admiral, after a
victory, is to look after the captured ships, and not to the distressing
of the enemy, very dearly, indeed, must the nation pay for the prizes. I
trust that L60,000 will be deemed a very moderate sum for them: and when
the services, time, and men, with the expense of fitting the three ships
for a voyage to England, are considered, government will save nearly as
much as they are valued at. Paying for prizes,” he continued, “is no new
idea of mine, and would often prove an amazing saving to the state, even
without taking into calculation what the nation loses by the attention of
admirals to the property of the captors; an attention absolutely
necessary, as a recompence for the exertions of the officers and men. An
admiral may be amply rewarded by his own feelings, and by the approbation
of his superiors; but what reward have the inferior officers and men but
the value of the prizes? If an admiral takes that from them, on any
consideration, he cannot expect to be well supported.” To Earl St. Vincent
he said, “If he could have been sure that government would have paid a
reasonable value for them, he would have ordered two of the other prizes
to be burnt, for they would cost more in refitting, and by the loss of
ships attending them, than they were worth.”

Having sent the six remaining prizes forward, under Sir James Saumarez,
Nelson left Captain Hood, in the ZEALOUS off Alexandria, with the
SWIFTSURE, GOLIATH, Alcmene, ZEALOUS, and EMERALD, and stood out to sea
himself on the seventeenth day after the battle.

CHAPTER VI

1798 – 1800

Nelson returns to Naples—State of that Court and Kingdom—General
Mack—The French approach Naples—Flight of the Royal Family—Successes
of the Allies in Italy—Transactions in the Bay of Naples—Expulsion
of the French from the Neapolitan and Roman States—Nelson is made
Duke of Bronte—He leaves the Mediterranean and returns to England.

NELSON’s health had suffered greatly while he was in the AGAMEMNON. “My
complaint,” he said, “is as if a girth were buckled taut over my breast,
and my endeavour in the night is to get it loose.” After the battle of
Cape St. Vincent he felt a little rest to be so essential to his recovery,
that he declared he would not continue to serve longer than the ensuing
summer, unless it should be absolutely necessary; for in his own strong
language, he had then been four years and nine months without one moment’s
repose for body or mind. A few months’ intermission of labour he had
obtained—not of rest, for it was purchased with the loss of a limb;
and the greater part of the time had been a season of constant pain. As
soon as his shattered frame had sufficiently recovered for him to resume
his duties, he was called to services of greater importance than any on
which he had hitherto been employed, which brought with them commensurate
fatigue and care.

The anxiety which he endured during his long pursuit of the enemy, was
rather changed in its direction than abated by their defeat; and this
constant wakefulness of thought, added to the effect of his wound, and the
exertions from which it was not possible for one of so ardent and
wide-reaching a mind to spare himself, nearly proved fatal. On his way
back to Italy he was seized with fever. For eighteen hours his life was
despaired of; and even when the disorder took a favourable turn, and he
was so far recovered as again to appear on deck, he himself thought that
his end was approaching—such was the weakness to which the fever and
cough had reduced him. Writing to Earl St. Vincent on the passage, he said
to him, “I never expect, my dear lord, to see your face again. It may
please God that this will be the finish to that fever of anxiety which I
have endured from the middle of June; but be that as it pleases his
goodness. I am resigned to his will.”

The kindest attentions of the warmest friendship were awaiting him at
Naples. “Come here,” said Sir William Hamilton, “for God’s sake, my dear
friend, as soon as the service will permit you. A pleasant apartment is
ready for you in my house, and Emma is looking out for the softest pillows
to repose the few wearied limbs you have left.” Happy would it have been
for Nelson if warm and careful friendship had been all that waited him
there. He himself saw at that time the character of the Neapolitan court,
as it first struck an Englishman, in its true light; and when he was on
the way, he declared that he detested the voyage to Naples, and that
nothing but necessity could have forced him to it. But never was any hero,
on his return from victory, welcomed with more heartfelt joy. Before the
battle of Aboukir the Court at Naples had been trembling for its
existence. The language which the Directory held towards it was well
described by Sir William Hamilton as being exactly the language of a
highwayman. The Neapolitans were told that Benevento might be added to
their dominions, provided they would pay a large sum, sufficient to
satisfy the Directory; and they were warned, that if the proposal were
refused, or even if there were any delay in accepting it, the French would
revolutionise all Italy. The joy, therefore, of the Court at Nelson’s
success was in proportion to the dismay from which that success relieved
them. The queen was a daughter of Maria Theresa, and sister of Maria
Antoinette. Had she been the wisest and gentlest of her sex, it would not
have been possible for her to have regarded the French without hatred and
horror; and the progress of revolutionary opinions, while it perpetually
reminded her of her sister’s fate, excited no unreasonable apprehensions
for her own. Her feelings, naturally ardent, and little accustomed to
restraint, were excited to the highest pitch when the news of the victory
arrived. Lady Hamilton, her constant friend and favourite, who was
present, says, “It is not possible to describe her transports; she wept,
she kissed her husband, her children, walked frantically about the room,
burst into tears again, and again kissed and embraced every person near
her; exclaiming, ‘O brave Nelson! O God! bless and protect our brave
deliverer! O Nelson! Nelson! what do we not owe you! O conqueror—saviour
of Italy! O that my swollen heart could now tell him personally what we
owe to him!'” She herself wrote to the Neapolitan ambassador at London
upon the occasion, in terms which show the fulness of her joy, and the
height of the hopes which it had excited. “I wish I could give wings,”
said she, “to the bearer of the news, and at the same time to our most
sincere gratitude. The whole of the sea-coast of Italy saved; and this is
owing alone to the generous English. This battle, or, to speak more
correctly, this total defeat of the regicide squadron, was obtained by the
valour of this brave admiral, seconded by a navy which is the terror of
its enemies. The victory is so complete that I can still scarcely believe
it; and if it were not the brave English nation, which is accustomed to
perform prodigies by sea, I could not persuade myself that it had
happened. It would have moved you to have seen all my children, boys and
girls, hanging on my neck, and crying for joy at the happy news. Recommend
the hero to his master: he has filled the whole of Italy with admiration
of the English. Great hopes were entertained of some advantages being
gained by his bravery, but no one could look for so total a destruction.
All here are drunk with joy.”

Such being the feelings of the royal family, it may well be supposed with
what delight, and with what honours Nelson would be welcomed. Early on the
22nd of September the poor wretched VANGUARD, as he called his shattered
vessel, appeared in sight of Naples. The CULLODEN and ALEXANDER had
preceded her by some days, and given notice of her approach. Many hundred
boats and barges were ready to go forth and meet him, with music and
streamers and every demonstration of joy and triumph. Sir William and Lady
Hamilton led the way in their state barge. They had seen Nelson only for a
few days, four years ago, but they then perceived in him that heroic
spirit which was now so fully and gloriously manifested to the world. Emma
Lady Hamilton, who from this time so greatly influenced his future life,
was a woman whose personal accomplishments have seldom been equalled, and
whose powers of mind were not less fascinating than her person. She was
passionately attached to the queen; and by her influence the British fleet
had obtained those supplies at Syracuse, without which, Nelson always
asserted, the battle of Aboukir could not have been fought. During the
long interval which passed before any tidings were received, her anxiety
had been hardly less than that of Nelson himself, while pursuing an enemy
of whom he could obtain no information; and when the tidings were brought
her by a joyful bearer, open-mouthed, its effect was such that she fell
like one who had been shot. She and Sir William had literally been made
ill by their hopes and fears, and joy at a catastrophe so far exceeding
all that they had dared to hope for. Their admiration for the hero
necessarily produced a degree of proportionate gratitude and affection;
and when their barge came alongside the VANGUARD, at the sight of Nelson,
Lady Hamilton sprang up the ship’s side, and exclaiming, “O God! is it
possible!” fell into his arms more, he says, like one dead than alive. He
described the meeting as “terribly affecting.” These friends had scarcely
recovered from their tears, when the king, who went out to meet him three
leagues in the royal barge, came on board and took him by the hand,
calling him his deliverer and preserver. From all the boats around he was
saluted with the same appellations: the multitude who surrounded him when
he landed repeated the same enthusiastic cries; and the lazzaroni
displayed their joy by holding up birds in cages, and giving them their
liberty as he passed.

His birth-day, which occurred a week after his arrival, was celebrated
with one of the most splendid fetes ever beheld at Naples. But,
notwithstanding the splendour with which he was encircled, and the
flattering honours with which all ranks welcomed him, Nelson was fully
sensible of the depravity, as well as weakness, of those by whom he was
surrounded. “What precious moments,” said he, “the courts of Naples and
Vienna are losing! Three months would liberate Italy! but this court is so
enervated that the happy moment will be lost. I am very unwell; and their
miserable conduct is not likely to cool my irritable temper. It is a
country of fiddlers and poets, whores and scoundrels.” This sense of their
ruinous weakness he always retained; nor was he ever blind to the mingled
folly and treachery of the Neapolitan ministers, and the complication in
iniquities under which the country groaned; but he insensibly, under the
influence of Lady Hamilton, formed an affection for the court, to whose
misgovernment the miserable condition of the country was so greatly to be
imputed. By the kindness of her nature, as well as by her attractions, she
had won his heart. Earl St. Vincent, writing to her at this time, says,
“Pray do not let your fascinating Neapolitan dames approach too near our
invaluable friend Nelson, for he is made of flesh and blood, and cannot
resist their temptations.” But this was addressed to the very person from
whom he was in danger.

The state of Naples may be described in few words. The king was one of the
Spanish Bourbons. As the Caesars have shown us to what wickedness the
moral nature of princes may be perverted, so in this family, the
degradation to which their intellectual nature can be reduced has been not
less conspicuously evinced. Ferdinand, like the rest of his race, was
passionately fond of field sports, and cared for nothing else. His queen
had all the vices of the house of Austria, with little to mitigate, and
nothing to ennoble them—provided she could have her pleasures, and
the king his sports, they cared not in what manner the revenue was raised
or administered. Of course a system of favouritism existed at court, and
the vilest and most impudent corruption prevailed in every department of
state, and in every branch of administration, from the highest to the
lowest. It is only the institutions of Christianity, and the vicinity of
better-regulated states, which prevent kingdoms, under such circumstances
of misrule, from sinking into a barbarism like that of Turkey. A sense of
better things was kept alive in some of the Neapolitans by literature, and
by their intercourse with happier countries. These persons naturally
looked to France, at the commencement of the Revolution, and during all
the horrors of that Revolution still cherished a hope that, by the aid of
France, they might be enabled to establish a new order of things in
Naples. They were grievously mistaken in supposing that the principles of
liberty would ever be supported by France, but they were not mistaken in
believing that no government could be worse than their own; and therefore
they considered any change as desirable. In this opinion men of the most
different characters agreed. Many of the nobles, who were not in favour,
wished for a revolution, that they might obtain the ascendancy to which
they thought themselves entitled; men of desperate fortunes desired it, in
the hope of enriching themselves; knaves and intriguers sold themselves to
the French to promote it; and a few enlightened men, and true lovers of
their country, joined in the same cause, from the purest and noblest
motives. All these were confounded under the common name of Jacobins; and
the Jacobins of the continental kingdoms were regarded by the English with
more hatred than they deserved. They were classed with Phillippe Egalite,
Marat, and Hebert; whereas they deserved rather to be ranked, if not with
Locke, and Sydney, and Russell, at least with Argyle and Monmouth, and
those who, having the same object as the prime movers of our own
Revolution, failed in their premature but not unworthy attempt.

No circumstances could be more unfavourable to the best interests of
Europe, than those which placed England in strict alliance with the
superannuated and abominable governments of the continent. The subjects of
those governments who wished for freedom thus became enemies to England,
and dupes and agents of France. They looked to their own grinding
grievances, and did not see the danger with which the liberties of the
world were threatened. England, on the other hand, saw the danger in its
true magnitude, but was blind to these grievances, and found herself
compelled to support systems which had formerly been equally the object of
her abhorrence and her contempt. This was the state of Nelson’s mind; he
knew that there could be no peace for Europe till the pride of France was
humbled, and her strength broken; and he regarded all those who were the
friends of France as traitors to the common cause, as well as to their own
individual sovereigns. There are situations in which the most opposite and
hostile parties may mean equally well, and yet act equally wrong. The
court of Naples, unconscious of committing any crime by continuing the
system of misrule to which they had succeeded, conceived that, in
maintaining things as they were, they were maintaining their own rights,
and preserving the people from such horrors as had been perpetrated in
France. The Neapolitan revolutionists thought that without a total change
of system, any relief from the present evils was impossible, and they
believed themselves justified in bringing about that change by any means.
Both parties knew that it was the fixed intention of the French to
revolutionise Naples. The revolutionists supposed that it was for the
purpose of establishing a free government; the court, and all
disinterested persons, were perfectly aware that the enemy had no other
object than conquest and plunder.

The battle of the Nile shook the power of France. Her most successful
general, and her finest army, were blocked up in Egypt—hopeless, as
it appeared, of return; and the government was in the hands of men without
talents, without character, and divided among themselves. Austria, whom
Buonaparte had terrified into a peace, at a time when constancy on her
part would probably have led to his destruction, took advantage of the
crisis to renew the war. Russia also was preparing to enter the field with
unbroken forces, led by a general, whose extraordinary military genius
would have entitled him to a high and honourable rank in history, if it
had not been sullied by all the ferocity of a barbarian. Naples, seeing
its destruction at hand, and thinking that the only means of averting it
was by meeting the danger, after long vacillations, which were produced by
the fears and treachery of its council, agreed at last to join this new
coalition with a numerical force of 80,000 men. Nelson told the king, in
plain terms, that he had his choice, either to advance, trusting to God
for his blessing on a just cause, and prepared to die sword in hand, or to
remain quiet, and be kicked out of his kingdom; one of these things must
happen. The king made answer he would go on, and trust in God and Nelson;
and Nelson, who would else have returned to Egypt, for the purpose of
destroying the French shipping in Alexandria, gave up his intention at the
desire of the Neapolitan court, and resolved to remain on that station, in
the hope that he might be useful to the movements of the army. He
suspected also, with reason, that the continuance of his fleet was so
earnestly requested, because the royal family thought their persons would
be safer, in case of any mishap, under the British flag, than under their
own.

His first object was the recovery of Malta—an island which the King
of Naples pretended to claim. The Maltese, whom the villanous knights of
their order had betrayed to France, had taken up arms against their
rapacious invaders, with a spirit and unanimity worthy of the highest
praise. They blockaded the French garrison by land, and a small squadron,
under Captain Ball, began to blockade them by sea, on the 12th of October.
Twelve days afterwards Nelson arrived. “It is as I suspected,” he says:
“the ministers at Naples know nothing of the situation of the island. Not
a house or bastion of the town is in possession of the islanders: and the
Marquis de Niza tells us they want arms, victuals, and support. He does
not know that any Neapolitan officers are on the island; perhaps, although
I have their names, none are arrived; and it is very certain, by the
marquis’s account, that no supplies have been sent by the governors of
Syracuse and Messina.” The little island of Gozo, dependent upon Malta,
which had also been seized and garrisoned by the French, capitulated soon
after his arrival, and was taken possession of by the British, in the name
of his Sicilian Majesty—a power who had no better claim to it than
France. Having seen this effected, and reinforced Captain Ball, he left
that able officer to perform a most arduous and important part, and
returned himself to cooperate with the intended movements of the
Neapolitans.

General Mack was at the head of the Neapolitan troops. All that is now
doubtful concerning this man is, whether he was a coward or a traitor. At
that time he was assiduously extolled as a most consummate commander, to
whom Europe might look for deliverance. And when he was introduced by the
king and queen to the British admiral, the queen said to him, “Be to us by
land, general, what my hero Nelson has been by sea.” Mack, on his part,
did not fail to praise the force which he was appointed to command. “It
was,” he said, “the finest army in Europe.” Nelson agreed with him that
there could not be finer men; but when the general, at a review, so
directed the operations of a mock fight, that by an unhappy blunder his
own troops were surrounded, instead of those of the enemy, he turned to
his friends and exclaimed with bitterness, that the fellow did not
understand his business. Another circumstance, not less characteristic,
confirmed Nelson in his judgment. “General Mack:” said he, in one of his
letters, “cannot move without five carriages! I have formed my opinion. I
heartily pray I may be mistaken.”

While Mack, at the head of 32,000 men, marched into the Roman state, 5000
Neapolitans were embarked on board the British and Portuguese squadron, to
take possession of Leghorn. This was effected without opposition; and the
Grand Duke of Tuscany, whose neutrality had been so outrageously violated
by the French, was better satisfied with the measure than some of the
Neapolitans themselves. Nasseli, their general, refused to seize the
French vessels at Leghorn, because he and the Duke di Sangro, who was
ambassador at the Tuscan court, maintained that the king of Naples was not
at war with France. “What!” said Nelson, “has not the king received, as a
conquest made by him, the republican flag taken at Gozo? Is not his own
flag flying there, and at Malta, not only by his permission, but by his
order? Is not his flag shot at every day by the French, and their shot
returned from batteries which bear that flag? Are not two frigates and a
corvette placed under my orders ready to fight the French, meet them where
they may? Has not the king sent publicly from Naples guns, mortars, &c.,
with officers and artillery, against the French in Malta? If these acts
are not tantamount to any written paper, I give up all knowledge of what
is war.” This reasoning was of less avail than argument addressed to the
general’s fears. Nelson told him that, if he permitted the many hundred
French who were then in the mole to remain neutral, till they had a fair
opportunity of being active, they had one sure resource, if all other
schemes failed, which was to set one vessel on fire; the mole would be
destroyed, probably the town also, and the port ruined for twenty years.
This representation made Naselli agree to the half measure of laying an
embargo on the vessels; among them were a great number of French
privateers, some of which were of such force as to threaten the greatest
mischief to our commerce, and about seventy sail of vessels belonging to
the Ligurian republic, as Genoa was now called, laden with corn, and ready
to sail for Genoa and France; where their arrival would have expedited the
entrance of more French troops into Italy. “The general,” said Nelson,
“saw, I believe, the consequence of permitting these vessels to depart, in
the same light as myself; but there is this difference between us: he
prudently, and certainly safely, waits the orders of his court, taking no
responsibility upon himself; I act from the circumstances of the moment,
as I feel may be most advantageous for the cause which I serve, taking all
responsibility on myself.” It was in vain to hope for anything vigorous or
manly from such men as Nelson was compelled to act with. The crews of the
French ships and their allies were ordered to depart in two days. Four
days elapsed and nobody obeyed the order; nor, in spite of the
representations of the British minister, Mr. Wyndham, were any means taken
to enforce it: the true Neapolitan shuffle, as Nelson called it, took
place on all occasions. After an absence of ten days he returned to
Naples; and receiving intelligence there from Mr. Wyndham that the
privateers were at last to be disarmed, the corn landed, and the crews
sent away, he expressed his satisfaction at the news in characteristic
language, saying, “So far I am content. The enemy will be distressed; and,
thank God, I shall get no money. The world, I know, think that money is
our god; and now they will be undeceived as far as relates to us. Down,
down with the French! is my constant prayer.”

Odes, sonnets, and congratulatory poems of every description were poured
in upon Nelson on his arrival at Naples. An Irish Franciscan, who was one
of the poets, not being content with panegyric upon this occasion,
ventured on a flight of prophecy, and predicted that Lord Nelson would
take Rome with his ships. His lordship reminded Father M’Cormick that
ships could not ascend the Tiber; but the father, who had probably
forgotten this circumstance, met the objection with a bold front, and
declared he saw that it would come to pass notwithstanding. Rejoicings of
this kind were of short duration. The King of Naples was with the army
which had entered Rome; but the castle of St. Angelo was held by the
French, and 13,000 French were strongly posted in the Roman states at
Castallana. Mack had marched against them with 20,000 men. Nelson saw that
the event was doubtful, or rather that there could be very little hope of
the result. But the immediate fate of Naples, as he well knew, hung upon
the issue. “If Mack is defeated,” said he, “in fourteen days this country
is lost; for the emperor has not yet moved his army, and Naples has not
the power of resisting the enemy. It was not a case for choice, but of
necessity, which induced the king to march out of his kingdom, and not
wait till the French had collected a force sufficient to drive him out of
it in a week.” He had no reliance upon the Neapolitan officers, who, as he
described them, seemed frightened at a drawn sword or a loaded gun; and he
was perfectly aware of the consequences which the sluggish movements and
deceitful policy of the Austrians were likely to bring down upon
themselves and all their continental allies. “A delayed war on the part of
the emperor,” said he, writing to the British minister at Vienna, “will be
destructive to this monarchy of Naples; and, of course, to the
newly-acquired dominions of the Emperor in Italy. Had the war commenced in
September or October, all Italy would, at this moment, have been
liberated. This month is worse than the last; the next will render the
contest doubtful; and, in six months, when the Neapolitan republic will be
organised, armed, and with its numerous resources called forth, the
emperor will not only be defeated in Italy, but will totter on his throne
at Vienna. DOWN, DOWN WITH THE FRENCH! ought to be written in the
council-room of every country in the world; and may Almighty God give
right thoughts to every sovereign, is my constant prayer!” His perfect
foresight of the immediate event was clearly shown in this letter, when he
desired the ambassador to assure the empress (who was a daughter of the
house of Naples) that, notwithstanding the councils which had shaken the
throne of her father and mother, he would remain there, ready to save
their persons, and her brothers and sisters; and that he had also left
ships at Leghorn to save the lives of the grand duke and her sister: “For
all,” said he, “must be a republic, if the emperor does not act with
expedition and vigour.”

His fears were soon verified. “The Neapolitan officers,” said Nelson, “did
not lose much honour, for, God knows, they had not much to lose; but they
lost all they had.” General St. Philip commanded the right wing, of 19,000
men. He fell in with 3000 of the enemy; and, as soon as he came near
enough, deserted to them. One of his men had virtue enough to level a
musket at him, and shot him through the arm; but the wound was not
sufficient to prevent him from joining with the French in pursuit of his
own countrymen. Cannon, tents, baggage, and military chest, were all
forsaken by the runaways, though they lost only forty men; for the French
having put them to flight and got possession of everything, did not pursue
an army of more than three times their own number. The main body of the
Neapolitans, under Mack, did not behave better. The king returned to
Naples, where every day brought with it tidings of some new disgrace from
the army and the discovery of some new treachery at home; till, four days
after his return, the general sent him advice that there was no prospect
of stopping the progress of the enemy, and that the royal family must look
to their own personal safety. The state of the public mind at Naples was
such, at this time, that neither the British minister nor the British
Admiral thought it prudent to appear at court. Their motions were watched;
and the revolutionists had even formed a plan for seizing and detaining
them as hostages, to prevent an attack on the city after the French should
have taken possession of it. A letter which Nelson addressed at this time
to the First Lord of the Admiralty, shows in what manner he contemplated
the possible issue of the storm, it was in these words:—”My dear
lord, there is an old saying, that when things are at the worst they must
mend: now the mind of man cannot fancy things worse than they are here.
But, thank God! my health is better, my mind never firmer, and my heart in
the right trim to comfort, relieve, and protect those whom it is my duty
to afford assistance to. Pray, my lord, assure our gracious sovereign that
while I live, I will support his glory; and that if I fall, it shall be in
a manner worthy of your lordship’s faithful and obliged Nelson. I must not
write more. Every word may be a text for a long letter.”

Meantime Lady Hamilton arranged every thing for the removal of the royal
family. This was conducted on her part with the greatest address, and
without suspicion, because she had been in habits of constant
correspondence with the queen. It was known that the removal could not be
effected without danger; for the mob, and especially the lazzaroni, were
attached to the king; and as at this time they felt a natural presumption
in their own numbers and strength, they insisted that he should not leave
Naples. Several persons fell victims to their fury; among others was a
messenger from Vienna, whose body was dragged under the windows of the
palace in the king’s sight. The king and queen spoke to the mob, and
pacified them; but it would not have been safe, while they were in this
agitated state, to have embarked the effects of the royal family openly.
Lady Hamilton, like a heroine of modern romance, explored with no little
danger a subterraneous passage leading from the palace to the sea-side:
through this passage the royal treasures, the choicest pieces of painting
and sculpture, and other property to the amount of two millions and a
half, were conveyed to the shore, and stowed safely on board the English
ships. On the night of the 21st, at half-past eight, Nelson landed,
brought out the whole royal family, embarked them in three barges, and
carried them safely, through a tremendous sea, to the VANGUARD. Notice was
then immediately given to the British merchants, that they would be
received on board any ships in the squadron. Their property had previously
been embarked in transports. Two days were passed in the bay, for the
purpose of taking such persons on board as required an asylum; and, on the
night of the 23rd, the fleet sailed. The next day a more violent storm
arose than Nelson had ever before encountered. On the 25th, the youngest
of the princes was taken ill, and died in Lady Hamilton’s arms. During
this whole trying season, Lady Hamilton waited upon the royal family with
the zeal of the most devoted servant, at a time when, except one man, no
person belonging to the court assisted them.

On the morning of the 26th the royal family were landed at Palermo. It was
soon seen that their flight had not been premature. Prince Pignatelli, who
had been left as vicar-general and viceroy, with orders to defend the
kingdom to the last rock in Calabria, sent plenipotentiaries to the French
camp before Capua; and they, for the sake of saving the capital, signed an
armistice, by which the greater part of the kingdom was given up to the
enemy: a cession that necessarily led to the loss of the whole. This was
on the 10th of January. The French advanced towards Naples. Mack, under
pretext of taking shelter from the fury of the lazzaroni, fled to the
French General Championet, who sent him under an escort to Milan; but as
France hoped for further services from this wretched traitor, it was
thought prudent to treat him apparently as a prisoner of war. The
Neapolitan army disappeared in a few days: of the men, some, following
their officers, deserted to the enemy; the greater part took the
opportunity of disbanding themselves. The lazzaroni proved true to their
country; they attacked the enemy’s advanced posts, drove them in, and were
not dispirited by the murderous defeat which they suffered from the main
body. Flying into the city, they continued to defend it, even after the
French had planted their artillery in the principal streets. Had there
been a man of genius to have directed their enthusiasm, or had there been
any correspondent feelings in the higher ranks, Naples might have set a
glorious example to Europe, and have proved the grave of every Frenchman
who entered it. But the vices of the government had extinguished all other
patriotism than that of the rabble, who had no other than that sort of
loyalty which was like the fidelity of a dog to its master. This fidelity
the French and their adherents counteracted by another kind of devotion:
the priests affirmed that St. Januarius had declared in favour of the
revolution. The miracle of his blood was performed with the usual success,
and more than usual effect, on the very evening when, after two days of
desperate fighting, the French obtained possession of Naples. A French
guard of honour was stationed at his church. Championet gave, “Respect for
St. Januarius!” as the word for the army; and the next day TE DEUM was
sung by the archbishop in the cathedral; and the inhabitants were invited
to attend the ceremony, and join in thanksgiving for the glorious entry of
the French; who, it was said, being under the peculiar protection of
Providence, had regenerated the Neapolitans, and were come to establish
and consolidate their happiness.

It seems to have been Nelson’s opinion that the Austrian cabinet regarded
the conquest of Naples with complacency, and that its measures were
directed so as designedly not to prevent the French from overrunning it.
That cabinet was assuredly capable of any folly, and of any baseness; and
it is not improbable that at this time, calculating upon the success of
the new coalition, it indulged a dream of adding extensively to its former
Italian possessions; and, therefore, left the few remaining powers of
Italy to be overthrown, as a means which would facilitate its own
ambitious views. The King of Sardinia, finding it impossible longer to
endure the exactions of France and the insults of the French commissary,
went to Leghorn, embarked on board a Danish frigate, and sailed, under
British protection, to Sardinia—that part of his dominions which the
maritime supremacy of England rendered a secure asylum. On his arrival he
published a protest against the conduct of France, declaring, upon the
faith and word of a king, that he had never infringed, even in the
slightest degree, the treaties which he had made with the French republic.
Tuscany was soon occupied by French troops—a fate which bolder
policy might, perhaps, have failed to avert, but which its weak and timid
neutrality rendered inevitable. Nelson began to fear even for Sicily. “Oh,
my dear sir,” said he, writing to Commodore Duckworth, “one thousand
English troops would save Messina; and I fear General Stuart cannot give
me men to save this most important island!” But his representations were
not lost upon Sir Charles Stuart. This officer hastened immediately from
Minorca with 1000 men, assisted in the measures of defence which were
taken, and did not return before he had satisfied himself that, if the
Neapolitans were excluded from the management of affairs, and the spirit
of the peasantry properly directed, Sicily was safe. Before his coming,
Nelson had offered the king, if no resources should arrive, to defend
Messina with the ship’s company of an English man-of-war.

Russia had now entered into the war. Corfu, surrendered to a Russian and
Turkish fleet, acting now, for the first time, in strange confederacy yet
against a power which was certainly the common and worst enemy of both.
Troubridge having given up the blockade of Alexandria to Sir Sidney Smith,
joined Nelson, bringing with him a considerable addition of strength; and
in himself what Nelson valued more, a man, upon whose sagacity,
indefatigable zeal, and inexhaustible resources, he could place full
reliance. Troubridge was intrusted to commence the operations against the
French in the bay of Naples. Meantime Cardinal Ruffo, a man of
questionable character, but of a temper fitted for such times, having
landed in Calabria, raised what he called a Christian army, composed of
the best and the vilest materials—loyal peasants, enthusiastic
priests and friars, galley slaves, the emptying of the jails, and
banditti. The islands in the bay of Naples were joyfully delivered up by
the inhabitants, who were in a state of famine already, from the effect of
this baleful revolution. Troubridge distributed among them all his flour,
and Nelson pressed the Sicilian court incessantly for supplies; telling
them that L10,000 given away in provisions would, at this time, purchase a
kingdom. Money, he was told, they had not to give; and the wisdom and
integrity which might have supplied its wants were not to be found. “There
is nothing,” said he, “which I propose, that is not, so far as orders go,
implicitly complied with; but the execution is dreadful, and almost makes
me mad. My desire to serve their majesties faithfully, as is my duty, has
been such that I am almost blind and worn out; and cannot in my present
state hold out much longer.”

Before any government can be overthrown by the consent of the people, the
government must be intolerably oppressive, or the people thoroughly
corrupted. Bad as the misrule at Naples had been, its consequences had
been felt far less there than in Sicily; and the peasantry had that
attachment to the soil which gives birth to so many of the noblest as well
as of the happiest feelings. In all the islands the people were perfectly
frantic with joy when they saw the Neapolitan colours hoisted. At Procida,
Troubridge could not procure even a rag of the tri-coloured flag to lay at
the king’s feet: it was rent into ten thousand pieces by the inhabitants,
and entirely destroyed. “The horrid treatment of the French,” he said,
“had made them mad.” It exasperated the ferocity of a character which
neither the laws nor the religion under which they lived tended to
mitigate. Their hatred was especially directed against the Neapolitan
revolutionists; and the fishermen, in concert among themselves, chose each
his own victim, whom he would stiletto when the day of vengeance should
arrive. The head of one was sent off one morning to Troubridge, with his
basket of grapes for breakfast; and a note from the Italian who had, what
he called, the glory of presenting it, saying, he had killed the man as he
was running away, and begging his excellency to accept the head, and
consider it as a proof of the writer’s attachment to the crown. With the
first successes of the court the work of punishment began. The judge at
Ischia said it was necessary to have a bishop to degrade the traitorous
priests before he could execute them; upon which Troubridge advised him to
hang them first, and send them to him afterwards, if he did not think that
degradation sufficient. This was said with the straightforward feeling of
a sailor, who cared as little for canon-law as he knew about it; but when
he discovered that the judge’s orders were to go through the business in a
summary manner, under his sanction, he told him at once that could not be,
for the prisoners were not British subjects; and he declined having
anything to do with it. There were manifestly persons about the court,
who, while they thirsted for the pleasure of vengeance, were devising how
to throw the odium of it upon the English. They wanted to employ an
English man-of-war to carry the priests to Palermo for degradation, and
then bring them back for execution; and they applied to Troubridge for a
hangman, which he indignantly refused. He, meantime, was almost
heartbroken by the situation in which he found himself. He had promised
relief to the islanders, relying upon the queen’s promise to him. He had
distributed the whole of his private stock,—there was plenty of
grain at Palermo, and in its neighbourhood, and yet none was sent him: the
enemy, he complained, had more interest there than the king; and the
distress for bread which he witnessed was such, he said, that it would
move even a Frenchman to pity.

Nelson’s heart, too, was at this time a-shore. “To tell you,” he says,
writing to Lady Hamilton, “how dreary and uncomfortable the VANGUARD
appears, is only telling you what it is to go from the pleasantest society
to a solitary cell, or from the dearest friends to no friends. I am now
perfectly the GREAT MAN—not a creature near me. From my heart I wish
myself the little man again. You and good Sir William have spoiled me for
any place but with you.”

His mind was not in a happier state respecting public affairs. “As to
politics,” said he, “at this time they are my abomination: the ministers
of kings and princes are as great scoundrels as ever lived. The brother of
the emperor is just going to marry the great Something of Russia, and it
is more than expected that a kingdom is to be found for him in Italy, and
that the king of Naples will be sacrificed.” Had there been a wise and
manly spirit in the Italian states, or had the conduct of Austria been
directed by anything like a principle of honour, a more favourable
opportunity could not have been desired for restoring order and prosperity
in Europe, than the misconduct of the French Directory at this time
afforded. But Nelson perceived selfishness and knavery wherever he looked;
and even the pleasure of seeing a cause prosper, in which he was so
zealously engaged, was poisoned by his sense of the rascality of those
with whom he was compelled to act. At this juncture intelligence arrived
that the French fleet had escaped from Brest, under cover of a fog, passed
Cadiz unseen by Lord Keith’s squadron, in hazy weather, and entered the
Mediterranean. It was said to consist of twenty-four sail of the line, six
frigates, and three sloops. The object of the French was to liberate the
Spanish fleet, form a junction with them, act against Minorca and Sicily,
and overpower our naval force in the Mediterranean, by falling in with
detached squadrons, and thus destroying it in detail. When they arrived
off Carthagena, they requested the Spanish ships to make sail and join;
but the Spaniards replied they had not men to man them. To this it was
answered that the French had men enough on board for that purpose. But the
Spaniards seem to have been apprehensive of delivering up their ships thus
entirely into the power of such allies, and refused to come out. The fleet
from Cadiz, however, consisting of from seventeen to twenty sail of the
line, got out, under Masaredo, a man who then bore an honourable name,
which he has since rendered infamous by betraying his country. They met
with a violent storm off the coast of Oran, which dismasted many of their
ships, and so effectually disabled them as to prevent the junction, and
frustrate a well-planned expedition.

Before this occurred, and while the junction was as probable as it would
have been formidable, Nelson was in a state of the greatest anxiety. “What
a state am I in!” said he to Earl St. Vincent. “If I go, I risk, and more
than risk, Sicily; for we know, from experience, that more depends upon
opinion than upon acts themselves; and, as I stay, my heart is breaking.”
His first business was to summon Troubridge to join him, with all the
ships of the line under his command, and a frigate, if possible. Then
hearing that the French had entered the Mediterranean, and expecting them
at Palermo, where he had only his own ship—with that single ship he
prepared to make all the resistance possible. Troubridge having joined
him, he left Captain E. J. Foote, of the SEAHORSE, to command the smaller
vessels in the bay of Naples, and sailed with six ships—one a
Portuguese, and a Portuguese corvette—telling Earl St. Vincent that
the squadron should never fall into the hands of the enemy. “And before we
are destroyed,” said he, “I have little doubt but they will have their
wings so completely clipped that they may be easily overtaken.” It was
just at this time that he received from Captain Hallowell the present of
the coffin. Such a present was regarded by the men with natural
astonishment. One of his old shipmates in the AGAMEMNON said, “We shall
have hot work of it indeed! You see the admiral intends to fight till he
is killed; and there he is to be buried.” Nelson placed it upright against
the bulkhead of his cabin, behind his chair, where he sat at dinner. The
gift suited him at this time. It is said that he was disappointed in the
step-son whom he had loved so dearly from his childhood, and who had saved
his life at Teneriffe; and it is certain that he had now formed an
infatuated attachment for Lady Hamilton, which totally weaned his
affections from his wife. Farther than this, there is no reason to believe
that this most unfortunate attachment was criminal; but this was
criminality enough, and it brought with it its punishment. Nelson was
dissatisfied with himself, and therefore weary of the world. This feeling
he now frequently expressed. “There is no true happiness in this life,”
said he, “and in my present state I could quit it with a smile.” And in a
letter to his old friend Davison he said, “Believe me, my only wish is to
sink with honour into the grave; and when that shall please God, I shall
meet death with a smile. Not that I am insensible to the honours and
riches my king and country have heaped upon me—so much more than any
officer could deserve; yet am I ready to quit this world of trouble, and
envy none but those of the estate six feet by two.”

Well had it been for Nelson if he had made no other sacrifices to this
unhappy attachment than his peace of mind; but it led to the only blot
upon his public character. While he sailed from Palermo, with the
intention of collecting his whole force, and keeping off Maretimo, either
to receive reinforcements there if the French were bound upwards, or to
hasten to Minorca if that should be their destination, Captain Foote, in
the Sea-horse, with the Neapolitan frigates, and some small vessels, under
his command, was left to act with a land force consisting of a few regular
troops, of four different nations, and with the armed rabble which
Cardinal Ruffo called the Christian army. His directions were to
co-operate to the utmost of his power with the royalists, at whose head
Ruffo had been placed, and he had no other instructions whatever. Ruffo
advancing without any plan, but relying upon the enemy’s want of numbers,
which prevented them from attempting to act upon the offensive, and ready
to take advantage of any accident which might occur, approached Naples.
Fort St. Elmo, which commands the town, was wholly garrisoned by the
French troops; the castles of Uovo and Nuovo, which commanded the
anchorage, were chiefly defended by Neapolitan revolutionists, the
powerful men among them having taken shelter there. If these castles were
taken, the reduction of Fort St. Elmo would be greatly expedited. They
were strong places, and there was reason to apprehend that the French
fleet might arrive to relieve them. Ruffo proposed to the garrison to
capitulate, on condition that their persons and property should be
guaranteed, and that they should, at their own option, either be sent to
Toulon or remain at Naples, without being molested either in their persons
or families. This capitulation was accepted: it was signed by the
cardinal, and the Russian and Turkish commanders; and lastly, by Captain
Foote, as commander of the British force. About six-and-thirty hours
afterwards Nelson arrived in the bay with a force which had joined him
during his cruise, consisting of seventeen sail of the line, with 1700
troops on board, and the Prince Royal of Naples in the admiral’s ship. A
flag of truce was flying on the castles, and on board the SEAHORSE. Nelson
made a signal to annul the treaty; declaring that he would grant rebels no
other terms than those of unconditional submission. The cardinal objected
to this: nor could all the arguments of Nelson, Sir W. Hamilton, and Lady
Hamilton, who took an active part in the conference, convince him that a
treaty of such a nature, solemnly concluded, could honourably be set
aside. He retired at last, silenced by Nelson’s authority, but not
convinced. Captain Foote was sent out of the bay; and the garrisons, taken
out of the castles under pretence of carrying the treaty into effect, were
delivered over as rebels to the vengeance of the Sicilian court. A
deplorable transaction! a stain upon the memory of Nelson and the honour
of England! To palliate it would be in vain; to justify it would be
wicked: there is no alternative, for one who will not make himself a
participator in guilt, but to record the disgraceful story with sorrow and
with shame.

Prince Francesco Caraccioli, a younger branch of one of the noblest
Neapolitan families, escaped from one of these castles before it
capitulated. He was at the head of the marine, and was nearly seventy
years of age, bearing a high character, both for professional and personal
merit. He had accompanied the court to Sicily; but when the revolutionary
government, or Parthenopean Republic, as it was called, issued an edict,
ordering all absent Neapolitans to return on pain of confiscation of their
property, he solicited and obtained permission of the king to return, his
estates being very great. It is said that the king, when he granted him
this permission, warned him not to take any part in politics; expressing
at the same time his own persuasion that he should recover his kingdom.
But neither the king, nor he himself, ought to have imagined that, in such
times, a man of such reputation would be permitted to remain inactive; and
it soon appeared that Caraccioli was again in command of the navy, and
serving under the republic against his late sovereign. The sailors
reported that he was forced to act thus; and this was believed, till it
was seen that he directed ably the offensive operations of the
revolutionists, and did not avail himself of opportunities for escaping
when they offered. When the recovery of Naples was evidently near, he
applied to Cardinal Ruffo, and to the Duke of Calvirrano, for protection;
expressing his hope that the few days during which he had been forced to
obey the French would not outweigh forty years of faithful services; but
perhaps not receiving such assurances as he wished, and knowing too well
the temper of the Sicilian court, he endeavoured to secrete himself, and a
price was set upon his head. More unfortunately for others than for
himself, he was brought in alive, having been discovered in the disguise
of a peasant, and carried one morning on board Lord Nelson’s ship, with
his hands tied behind him.

Caraccioli was well known to the British officers, and had been ever
highly esteemed by all who knew him. Captain Hardy ordered him immediately
to be unbound, and to be treated with all those attentions which he felt
due to a man who, when last on board the FOUDROYANT, had been received as
an admiral and a prince. Sir William and Lady Hamilton were in the ship;
but Nelson, it is affirmed, saw no one except his own officers during the
tragedy which ensued. His own determination was made; and he issued an
order to the Neapolitan commodore, Count Thurn, to assemble a
court-martial of Neapolitan officers, on board the British flag-ship,
proceed immediately to try the prisoner, and report to him, if the charges
were proved, what punishment he ought to suffer. These proceedings were as
rapid as possible; Caraccioli was brought on board at nine in the
forenoon, and the trial began at ten. It lasted two hours: he averred in
his defence that he had acted under compulsion, having been compelled to
serve as a common soldier, till he consented to take command of the fleet.
This, the apologists of Lord Nelson say, he failed in proving. They forget
that the possibility of proving it was not allowed him, for he was brought
to trial within an hour after he was legally in arrest; and how, in that
time, was he to collect his witnesses? He was found guilty, and sentenced
to death; and Nelson gave orders that the sentence should be carried into
effect that evening, at five o’clock, on board the Sicilian frigate, LA
MINERVA, by hanging him at the fore-yard-arm till sunset; when the body
was to be cut down and thrown into the sea. Caraccioli requested Lieut.
Parkinson, under whose custody he was placed, to intercede with Lord
Nelson for a second trial—for this, among other reasons, that Count
Thurn, who presided at the court-martial, was notoriously his personal
enemy. Nelson made answer, that the prisoner had been fairly tried by the
officers of his own country, and he could not interfere; forgetting that,
if he felt himself justified in ordering the trial and the execution, no
human being could ever have questioned the propriety of his interfering on
the side of mercy. Caraccioli then entreated that he might be shot. “I am
an old man, sir,” said he: “I leave no family to lament me, and therefore
cannot be supposed to be very anxious about prolonging my life; but the
disgrace of being hanged is dreadful to me.” When this was repeated to
Nelson, he only told the lieutenant, with much agitation, to go and attend
his duty. As a last hope, Caraccioli asked the lieutenant if he thought an
application to Lady Hamilton would be beneficial? Parkinson went to seek
her; she was not to be seen on this occasion; but she was present at the
execution. She had the most devoted attachment to the Neapolitan court;
and the hatred which she felt against those whom she regarded as its
enemies, made her at this time forget what was due to the character of her
sex as well as of her country. Here, also, a faithful historian is called
upon to pronounce a severe and unqualified condemnation of Nelson’s
conduct. Had he the authority of his Sicilian majesty for proceeding as he
did? If so, why was not that authority produced? If not, why were the
proceedings hurried on without it? Why was the trial precipitated, so that
it was impossible for the prisoner, if he had been innocent, to provide
the witnesses, who might have proved him so? Why was a second trial
refused, when the known animosity of the president of the court against
the prisoner was considered? Why was the execution hastened, so as to
preclude any appeal for mercy, and render the prerogative of mercy
useless? Doubtless, the British Admiral seemed to himself to be acting
under a rigid sense of justice; but to all other persons it was obvious
that he was influenced by an infatuated attachment—a baneful
passion, which destroyed his domestic happiness, and now, in a second
instance, stained ineffaceably his public character.

The body was carried out to a considerable distance, and sunk in the bay,
with three double-headed shot, weighing 250 lbs., tied to its legs.
Between two or three weeks afterward, when the king was on board the
FOUDROYANT, a Neapolitan fisherman came to the ship, and solemnly declared
that Caraccioli had risen from the bottom of the sea, and was coming as
fast as he could to Naples, swimming half out of the water. Such an
account was listened to like a tale of idle credulity. The day being fair,
Nelson, to please the king, stood out to sea; but the ship had not
proceeded far before a body was distinctly seen, upright in the water, and
approaching them. It was soon recognised to be indeed the corpse of
Caraccioli, which had risen and floated, while the great weights attached
to the legs kept the body in a position like that of a living man. A fact
so extraordinary astonished the king, and perhaps excited some feeling of
superstitious fear, akin to regret. He gave permission for the body to be
taken on shore and receive Christian burial. It produced no better effect.
Naples exhibited more dreadful scenes than it had witnessed in the days of
Massaniello. After the mob had had their fill of blood and plunder, the
reins were given to justice—if that can be called justice which
annuls its own stipulations, looks to the naked facts alone, disregarding
all motives and all circumstances; and without considering character, or
science, or sex, or youth, sacrifices its victims, not for the public
weal, but for the gratification of greedy vengeance.

The castles of St. Elmo, Gaieta, and Capua remained to be subdued. On the
land side there was no danger that the French in these garrisons should be
relieved, for Suvarof was now beginning to drive the enemy before him; but
Nelson thought his presence necessary in the bay of Naples: and when Lord
Keith, having received intelligence that the French and Spanish fleets had
formed a junction, and sailed for Carthagena, ordered him to repair to
Minorca with the whole or the greater part of his force, he sent Admiral
Duckworth with a small part only. This was a dilemma which he had
foreseen. “Should such an order come at this moment,” he said, in a letter
previously written to the Admiralty, “it would be a case for some
consideration, whether Minorca is to be risked, or the two kingdoms of
Naples and Sicily; I rather think my decision would be to risk the
former.” And after he had acted upon this opinion, he wrote in these terms
to the Duke of Clarence, with whose high notions of obedience he was well
acquainted: “I am well aware of the consequences of disobeying my orders;
but as I have often before risked my life for the good cause, so I with
cheerfulness did my commission; for although a military tribunal may think
me criminal, the world will approve of my conduct; and I regard not my own
safety when the honour of my king is at stake.”

Nelson was right in his judgment: no attempt was made on Minorca: and the
expulsion of the French from Naples may rather be said to have been
effected than accelerated by the English and Portuguese of the allied
fleet, acting upon shore, under Troubridge. The French commandant at St.
Elmo, relying upon the strength of the place, and the nature of the force
which attacked it, had insulted Captain Foote in the grossest terms; but
CITOYEN Mejan was soon taught better manners, when Troubridge, in spite of
every obstacle, opened five batteries upon the fort. He was informed that
none of his letters, with the insolent printed words at the top, LIBERTE
EQALITE, GUERRE AUX TYRANS, &c. would be received; but that if he
wrote like a soldier and a gentleman he would be answered in the same
style. The Frenchman then began to flatter his antagonist upon the
BIENFAISANCE and HUMANITE which, he said, were the least of the many
virtues which distinguished Monsieur Troubridge. Monsieur Troubridge’s
BIENFAISANCE was at this time thinking of mining the fort. “If we can
accomplish that,” said he, “I am a strong advocate to send them, hostages
and all, to Old Nick, and surprise him with a group of nobility and
republicans. Meantime,” he added, “it was some satisfaction to perceive
that the shells fell well, and broke some of their shins.” Finally, to
complete his character, Mejan offered to surrender for 150,000 ducats.
Great Britain, perhaps, has made but too little use of this kind of
artillery, which France has found so effectual towards subjugating the
continent: but Troubridge had the prey within his reach; and in the course
of a few days, his last battery, “after much trouble and palaver,” as he
said, “brought the vagabonds to their senses.”

Troubridge had more difficulties to overcome this siege, from the
character of the Neapolitans who pretended to assist him, and whom he made
useful, than even from the strength of the place and the skill of the
French. “Such damned cowards and villains,” he declared, “he had never
seen before.” The men at the advanced posts carried on, what he called, “a
diabolical good understanding” with the enemy, and the workmen would
sometimes take fright and run away. “I make the best I can,” said he, “of
the degenerate race I have to deal with; the whole means of guns,
ammunition, pioneers, &c., with all materials, rest with them. With
fair promises to the men, and threats of instant death if I find any one
erring, a little spur has been given.” Nelson said of him with truth, upon
this occasion, that he was a first-rate general. “I find, sir,” said he
afterwards in a letter to the Duke of Clarence, “that General Koehler does
not approve of such irregular proceedings as naval officers attacking and
defending fortifications. We have but one idea—to get close
alongside. None but a sailor would have placed a battery only 180 yards
from the Castle of St. Elmo; a soldier must have gone according to art,
and the /\/\/\/\ way. My brave Troubridge went straight on, for we had no
time to spare.”

Troubridge then proceeded to Capua, and took the command of the motley
besieging force. One thousand of the best men in the fleet were sent to
assist in the siege. Just at this time Nelson received a peremptory order
from Lord Keith to sail with the whole of his force for the protection of
Minorca; or, at least, to retain no more than was absolutely necessary at
Sicily. “You will easily conceive my feelings,” said he in communicating
this to Earl St. Vincent; “but my mind, as your lordship knows, was
perfectly prepared for this order; and it is now, more than ever, made up.
At this moment I will not part with a single ship; as I cannot do that
without drawing a hundred and twenty men from each ship, now at the siege
of Capua. I am fully aware of the act I have committed; but I am prepared
for any fate which may await my disobedience. Capua and Gaieta will soon
fall; and the moment the scoundrels of French are out of this kingdom I
shall send eight or nine ships of the line to Minorca. I have done what I
thought right—others may think differently; but it will be my
consolation that I have gained a kingdom, seated a faithful ally of his
Majesty firmly on his throne, and restored happiness to millions.”

At Capua, Troubridge had the same difficulties as at St. Elmo; and being
farther from Naples, and from the fleet, was less able to overcome them.
The powder was so bad that he suspected treachery; and when he asked
Nelson to spare him forty casks from the ships, he told him it would be
necessary that some Englishmen should accompany it, or they would steal
one-half, and change the other. “All the men you see,” said he, “gentle
and simple, are such notorious villains, that it is misery to be with
them.” Capua, however, soon fell; Gaieta immediately afterwards
surrendered to Captain Louis of the MINOTAUR. Here the commanding officer
acted more unlike a Frenchman, Captain Louis said, than any one he had
ever met; meaning that he acted like a man of honour. He required,
however, that the garrison should carry away their horses, and other
pillaged property: to which Nelson replied, “That no property which they
did not bring with them into the country could be theirs: and that the
greatest care should be taken to prevent them from carrying it away.” “I
am sorry,” said he to Captain Louis, “that you have entered into any
altercation. There is no way of dealing with a Frenchman but to knock him
down; to be civil to them is only to be laughed at, when they are
enemies.”

The whole kingdom of Naples was thus delivered by Nelson from the French.
The Admiralty, however, thought it expedient to censure him for disobeying
Lord Keith’s orders, and thus hazarding Minorca, without, as it appeared
to them, any sufficient reason; and also for having landed seamen for the
siege of Capua, to form part of an army employed in operations at a
distance from the coast; where, in case of defeat, they might have been
prevented from returning to their ships; and they enjoined him, “not to
employ the seamen in like manner in future.” This reprimand was issued
before the event was known; though, indeed, the event would not affect the
principle upon which it proceeded. When Nelson communicated the tidings of
his complete success, he said, in his public letter, “that it would not be
the less acceptable for having been principally brought about by British
sailors.” His judgment in thus employing them had been justified by the
result; and his joy was evidently heightened by the gratification of a
professional and becoming pride. To the first lord he said, at the same
time, “I certainly, from having only a left hand, cannot enter into
details which may explain the motives that actuated my conduct. My
principle is, to assist in driving the French to the devil, and in
restoring peace and happiness to mankind. I feel that I am fitter to do
the action than to describe it.” He then added that he would take care of
Minorca.

In expelling the French from Naples, Nelson had, with characteristic zeal
and ability, discharged his duty; but he deceived himself when he imagined
that he had seated Ferdinand firmly on his throne, and that he had
restored happiness to millions. These objects might have been accomplished
if it had been possible to inspire virtue and wisdom into a vicious and
infatuated court; and if Nelson’s eyes had not been, as it were,
spell-bound by that unhappy attachment, which had now completely mastered
him, he would have seen things as they were; and might, perhaps, have
awakened the Sicilian court to a sense of their interest, if not of their
duty. That court employed itself in a miserable round of folly and
festivity, while the prisons of Naples were filled with groans, and the
scaffolds streamed with blood. St. Januarius was solemnly removed from his
rank as patron saint of the kingdom, having been convicted of Jacobinism;
and St. Antonio as solemnly installed in his place. The king, instead of
re-establishing order at Naples by his presence, speedily returned to
Palermo, to indulge in his favourite amusements. Nelson, and the
ambassador’s family, accompanied the court; and Troubridge remained,
groaning over the villany and frivolity of those with whom he was
compelled to deal. A party of officers applied to him for a passage to
Palermo, to see the procession of St. Rosalia: he recommended them to
exercise their troops, and not behave like children. It was grief enough
for him that the court should be busied in these follies, and Nelson
involved in them. “I dread, my lord,” said he, “all the feasting, &c.
at Palermo. I am sure your health will be hurt. If so, all their saints
will be damned by the navy. The king would be better employed digesting a
good government; everything gives way to their pleasures. The money spent
at Palermo gives discontent here; fifty thousand people are unemployed,
trade discouraged, manufactures at a stand. It is the interest of many
here to keep the king away: they all dread reform. Their villanies are so
deeply rooted, that if some method is not taken to dig them out, this
government cannot hold together. Out of twenty millions of ducats,
collected as the revenue, only thirteen millions reach the treasury; and
the king pays four ducats where he should pay one. He is surrounded by
thieves; and none of them have honour or honesty enough to tell him the
real and true state of things.” In another letter he expressed his sense
of the miserable state of Naples. “There are upwards of forty thousand
families,” said he, “who have relations confined. If some act of oblivion
is not passed, there will be no end of persecution; for the people of this
country have no idea of anything but revenge, and to gain a point would
swear ten thousand false oaths. Constant efforts are made to get a man
taken up, in order to rob him. The confiscated property does not reach the
king’s treasury. All thieves! It is selling for nothing. His own people,
whom he employs, are buying it up, and the vagabonds pocket the whole. I
should not be surprised to hear that they brought a bill of expenses
against him for the sale.”

The Sicilian court, however, were at this time duly sensible of the
services which had been rendered them by the British fleet, and their
gratitude to Nelson was shown with proper and princely munificence. They
gave him the dukedom and domain of Bronte, worth about L3000 a year. It
was some days before he could be persuaded to accept it; the argument
which finally prevailed is said to have been suggested by the queen, and
urged, at her request, by Lady Hamilton upon her knees. “He considered his
own honour too much,” she said, “if he persisted in refusing what the king
and queen felt to be absolutely necessary for the preservation of theirs.”
The king himself, also, is said to have addressed him in words, which show
that the sense of rank will sometimes confer a virtue upon those who seem
to be most unworthy of the lot to which they have been born: “Lord Nelson,
do you wish that your name alone should pass with honour to posterity; and
that I, Ferdinand Bourbon, should appear ungrateful?” He gave him also,
when the dukedom was accepted, a diamond-hilted sword, which his father,
Char. III. of Spain, had given him on his accession to the throne of the
two Sicilies. Nelson said, “the reward was magnificent, and worthy of a
king, and he was determined that the inhabitants on the domain should be
the happiest in all his Sicilian majesty’s dominions. Yet,” said he,
speaking of these and the other remunerations which were made him for his
services, “these presents, rich as they are, do not elevate me. My pride
is, that at Constantinople, from the grand seignior to the lowest Turk,
the name of Nelson is familiar in their mouths; and in this country I am
everything which a grateful monarch and people can call me.” Nelson,
however, had a pardonable pride in the outward and visible signs of honour
which he had so fairly won. He was fond of his Sicilian title; the
signification, perhaps, pleased him; Duke of Thunder was what in Dahomy
would be called a STRONG NAME; it was to a sailor’s taste; and certainly,
to no man could it ever be more applicable. But a simple offering, which
he received not long afterwards, from the island of Zante, affected him
with a deeper and finer feeling. The Greeks of that little community sent
him a golden-headed sword and a truncheon, set round with all the diamonds
that the island could furnish, in a single row. They thanked him “for
having, by his victory, preserved that part of Greece from the horrors of
anarchy; and prayed that his exploits might accelerate the day, in which,
amidst the glory and peace of thrones, the miseries of the human race
would cease.” This unexpected tribute touched Nelson to the heart. “No
officer,” he said, “had ever received from any country a higher
acknowledgment of his services.”

The French still occupied the Roman states; from which, according to their
own admission, they had extorted in jewels, plate, specie, and
requisitions of every kind, to the enormous amount of eight millions
sterling; yet they affected to appear as deliverers among the people whom
they were thus cruelly plundering; and they distributed portraits of
Buonaparte, with the blasphemous inscription, “This is the true likeness
of the holy saviour of the world!” The people, detesting the impiety, and
groaning beneath the exactions of these perfidious robbers, were ready to
join any regular force that should come to their assistance; but they
dreaded Cardinal Ruffo’s rabble, and declared they would resist him as a
banditti, who came only for the purpose of pillage. Nelson perceived that
no object was now so essential for the tranquillity of Naples as the
recovery of Rome; which in the present state of things, when Suvarof was
driving the French before him, would complete the deliverance of Italy. He
applied, therefore, to Sir James St. Clair Erskine, who in the absence of
General Fox commanded at Minorca, to assist in this great object with 1200
men. “The field of glory,” said he, “is a large one, and was never more
open to any one than at this moment to you. Rome would throw open her
gates and receive you as her deliverer; and the pope would owe his
restoration to a heretic.” But Sir James Erskine looked only at the
difficulties of the undertaking. “Twelve hundred men, he thought, would be
too small a force to be committed in such an enterprise; for Civita
Vecchia was a regular fortress; the local situation and climate also were
such, that even if this force were adequate, it would be proper to delay
the expedition till October. General Fox, too, was soon expected; and
during his absence, and under existing circumstances, he did not feel
justified in sending away such a detachment.”

What this general thought it imprudent to attempt, Nelson and Troubridge
effected without his assistance, by a small detachment from the fleet.
Troubridge first sent Captain Hallowell to Civita Vecchia to offer the
garrison there and at Castle St. Angelo the same terms which had been
granted to Gaieta. Hallowell perceived, by the overstrained civility of
the officers who came off to him, and the compliments which they paid to
the English nation, that they were sensible of their own weakness and
their inability to offer any effectual resistance; but the French know,
that while they are in a condition to serve their government, they can
rely upon it for every possible exertion in their support; and this
reliance gives them hope and confidence to the last. Upon Hallowell’s
report, Troubridge, who had now been made Sir Thomas for his services,
sent Captain Louis with a squadron to enforce the terms which he had
offered; and, as soon as he could leave Naples, he himself followed. The
French, who had no longer any hope from the fate of arms, relied upon
their skill in negotiation, and proposed terms to Troubridge with that
effrontery which characterises their public proceedings; but which is as
often successful as it is impudent. They had a man of the right stamp to
deal with. Their ambassador at Rome began by saying, that the Roman
territory was the property of the French by right of conquest. The British
commodore settled that point, by replying, “It is mine by reconquest.” A
capitulation was soon concluded for all the Roman states, and Captain
Louis rowed up the Tiber in his barge, hoisted English colours on the
capitol, and acted for the time as governor of Rome. The prophecy of the
Irish poet was thus accomplished, and the friar reaped the fruits; for
Nelson, who was struck with the oddity of the circumstance, and not a
little pleased with it, obtained preferment for him from the King of
Sicily, and recommended him to the Pope.

Having thus completed his work upon the continent of Italy, Nelson’s whole
attention was directed towards Malta; where Captain Ball, with most
inadequate means, was besieging the French garrison. Never was any officer
engaged in more anxious and painful service: the smallest reinforcement
from France would, at any moment, have turned the scale against him; and
had it not been for his consummate ability, and the love and veneration
with which the Maltese regarded him, Malta must have remained in the hands
of the enemy. Men, money, food—all things were wanting. The garrison
consisted of 5000 troops; the besieging force of 500 English and
Portuguese marines, and about 1500 armed peasants. Long and repeatedly did
Nelson solicit troops to effect the reduction of this important place. “It
has been no fault of the navy,” said he, “that Malta has not been attacked
by land; but we have neither the means ourselves nor influence with those
who have.” The same causes of demurral existed which prevented British
troops from assisting in the expulsion of the French from Rome. Sir James
Erskine was expecting General Fox; he could not act without orders; and
not having, like Nelson, that lively spring of hope within him, which
partakes enough of the nature of faith to work miracles in war, he thought
it “evident that unless a respectable land force, in numbers sufficient to
undertake the siege of such a garrison, in one of the strongest places of
Europe, and supplied with proportionate artillery and stores, were sent
against it, no reasonable hope could be entertained of its surrender.”
Nelson groaned over the spirit of over-reasoning caution and unreasoning
obedience. “My heart,” said he, “is almost broken. If the enemy gets
supplies in, we may bid adieu to Malta; all the force we can collect would
then be of little use against the strongest place in Europe. To say that
an officer is never, for any object, to alter his orders, is what I cannot
comprehend. The circumstances of this war so often vary, that an officer
has almost every moment to consider, what would my superiors direct, did
they know what was passing under my nose?” “But, sir,” said he writing to
the Duke of Clarence, “I find few think as I do. To obey orders is all
perfection. To serve my king, and to destroy the French, I consider as the
great order of all, from which little ones spring; and if one of these
militate against it (for who can tell exactly at a distance?) I go back
and obey the great order and object, to down—down with the damned
French villains!—my blood boils at the name of Frenchmen!”

At length, General Fox arrived at Minorca—and at length permitted
Col. Graham to go to Malta, but with means miserably limited. In fact, the
expedition was at a stand for want of money; when Troubridge arriving at
Messina to co-operate in it, and finding this fresh delay, immediately
offered all that he could command of his own. “I procured him, my lord,”
said he to Nelson,”1500 of my cobs—every farthing and every atom of
me shall be devoted to the cause.” “What can this mean?” said Nelson, when
he learned that Col. Graham was ordered not to incur any expenses for
stores, or any articles except provisions!—”the cause cannot stand
still for want of a little money. If nobody will pay it, I will sell
Bronte and the Emperor of Russia’s box.” And he actually pledged Bronte
for L6600 if there should be any difficulty about paying the bills. The
long-delayed expedition was thus, at last, sent forth; but Troubridge
little imagined in what scenes of misery he was to bear his part. He
looked to Sicily for supplies: it was the interest, as well as the duty of
the Sicilian government to use every exertion for furnishing them; and
Nelson and the British ambassador were on the spot to press upon them the
necessity of exertion. But, though Nelson saw with what a knavish crew the
Sicilian court was surrounded, he was blind to the vices of the court
itself; and resigning himself wholly to Lady Hamilton’s influence, never
even suspected the crooked policy which it was remorselessly pursuing. The
Maltese and the British in Malta severely felt it. Troubridge, who had the
truest affection for Nelson, knew his infatuation, and feared that it
might prove injurious to his character, as well as fatal to an enterprise
which had begun so well, and been carried on so patiently.

“My lord,” said he, writing to him from the siege, “we are dying off fast
for want. I learn that Sir William Hamilton says Prince Luzzi refused corn
some time ago, and Sir William does not think it worth while making
another application. If that be the case, I wish he commanded this
distressing scene instead of me. Puglia had an immense harvest; near
thirty sail left Messina before I did, to load corn. Will they let us have
any? If not, a short time will decide the business. The German interest
prevails. I wish I was at your Lordship’s elbow for an hour. ALL, ALL,
will be thrown on you!—I will parry the blow as much as in my power:
I foresee much mischief brewing. God bless your Lordship; I am miserable I
cannot assist your operations more. Many happy returns of the day to you—(it
was the first of the new year)—I never spent so miserable a one. I
am not very tender-hearted; but really the distress here would even move a
Neapolitan.” Soon afterwards he wrote, “I have this day saved thirty
thousand people from starving; but with this day my ability ceases. As the
government are bent on starving us, I see no alternative but to leave
these poor unhappy people to perish, without our being witnesses of their
distress. I curse the day I ever served the Neapolitan government. We have
characters, my lord, to lose; these people have none. Do not suffer their
infamous conduct to fall on us. Our country is just, but severe. Such is
the fever of my brain this minute, that I assure you, on my honour, if the
Palermo traitors were here, I would shoot them first, and then myself.
Girgenti is full of corn; the money is ready to pay for it; we do not ask
it as a gift. Oh! could you see the horrid distress I daily experience,
something would be done. Some engine is at work against us at Naples; and
I believe I hit on the proper person. If you complain he will be
immediately promoted, agreeably to the Neapolitan custom. All I write to
you is known at the queen’s. For my own part, I look upon the Neapolitans
as the worst of intriguing enemies: every hour shows me their infamy and
duplicity. I pray your lordship be cautious: your honest, open manner of
acting will be made a handle of. When I see you, and tell of their
infamous tricks, you will be as much surprised as I am. The whole will
fall on you.”

Nelson was not, and could not be, insensible to the distress which his
friend so earnestly represented. He begged, almost on his knees, he said,
small supplies of money and corn, to keep the Maltese from starving. And
when the court granted a small supply, protesting their poverty, he
believed their protestations, and was satisfied with their professions,
instead of insisting that the restrictions upon the exportation of corn
should be withdrawn. The anxiety, however, which he endured, affected him
so deeply that he said it had broken his spirit for ever. Happily, all
that Troubridge with so much reason foreboded, did not come to pass. For
Captain Ball, with more decision than Nelson himself would have shown at
that time and upon that occasion, ventured upon a resolute measure, for
which his name would deserve always to be held in veneration by the
Maltese, even if it had no other claims to the love and reverence of a
grateful people. Finding it hopeless longer to look for succour or common
humanity from the deceitful and infatuated court of Sicily, which
persisted in prohibiting by sanguinary edicts the exportation of supplies,
at his own risk, he sent his first lieutenant to the port of Girgenti,
with orders to seize and bring with him to Malta the ships which were
there lying laden with corn; of the numbers of which he had received
accurate information. These orders were executed to the great delight and
advantage of the shipowners and proprietors: the necessity of raising the
siege was removed, and Captain Ball waited in calmness for the
consequences to himself. The Neapolitan government complained to the
English ambassador, and the complaint was communicated to Nelson, who, in
return, requested Sir William Hamilton would fully and plainly state, that
the act ought not to be considered as any intended disrespect to his
Sicilian Majesty, but as of the most absolute and imperious necessity; the
alternative being either of abandoning Malta to the French, or of
anticipating the king’s orders for carrying the corn in those vessels to
Malta. “I trust,” he added, “that the government of the country will never
again force any of our royal master’s servants to so unpleasant an
alternative.” Thus ended the complaint of the Neapolitan court. “The sole
result was,” says Mr. Coleridge, “that the governor of Malta became an
especial object of its hatred, its fears, and its respect.”

Nelson himself, at the beginning of February, sailed for that island. On
the way he fell in with a French squadron bound for its relief, and
consisting of the GENEREUX seventy-four, three frigates, and a corvette.
One of these frigates and the line-of-battle ship were taken; the others
escaped, but failed in their purpose of reaching La Valette. This success
was peculiarly gratifying to Nelson, for many reasons. During some months
he had acted as commander-in-chief in the Mediterranean, while Lord Keith
was in England. Lord Keith was now returned; and Nelson had, upon his own
plan, and at his own risk, left him to sail for Malta, “for which,” said
he, “if I had not succeeded, I might have been broke: and if I had not
acted thus, the GENEREUX never would have been taken.” This ship was one
of those which had escaped from Aboukir. Two frigates, and the GUILLAUME
TELL, eighty-six were all that now remained of the fleet which Buonaparte
had conducted to Egypt. The GUILLAUME TELL was at this time closely
watched in the harbour of La Valette; and shortly afterwards, attempting
to make her escape from thence, was taken after an action, in which
greater skill was never displayed by British ships, nor greater gallantry
by an enemy. She was taken by the FOUDROYANT, LION, and PENELOPE frigate.
Nelson, rejoicing at what he called this glorious finish to the whole
French Mediterranean fleet, rejoiced also that he was not present to have
taken a sprig of these brave men’s laurels. “They are,” said he, “and I
glory in them, my children; they served in my school; and all of us caught
our professional zeal and fire from the great and good Earl St. Vincent.
What a pleasure, what happiness, to have the Nile fleet all taken, under
my orders and regulations!” The two frigates still remained in La Valette;
before its surrender they stole out; one was taken in the attempt; the
other was the only ship of the whole fleet which escaped capture or
destruction.

Letters were found on board the GUILLAUME TELL showing that the French
were now become hopeless of preserving the conquest which they had so
foully acquired. Troubridge and his brother officers were anxious that
Nelson should have the honour of signing the capitulation. They told, him
that they absolutely, as far as they dared, insisted on his staying to do
this; but their earnest and affectionate entreaties were vain. Sir William
Hamilton had just been superseded: Nelson had no feeling of cordiality
towards Lord Keith; and thinking that after Earl St. Vincent no man had so
good a claim to the command in the Mediterranean as himself, he applied
for permission to return to England; telling the First Lord of the
Admiralty that his spirit could not submit patiently, and that he was a
broken-hearted man. From the time of his return from Egypt, amid all the
honours which were showered upon him, he had suffered many mortifications.
Sir Sidney Smith had been sent to Egypt with orders to take under his
command the squadron which Nelson had left there. Sir Sidney appears to
have thought that this command was to be independent of Nelson; and Nelson
himself thinking so, determined to return, saying to Earl St. Vincent, “I
do feel, for I am a man, that it is impossible for me to serve in these
seas with a squadron under a junior officer.” Earl St. Vincent seems to
have dissuaded him from this resolution: some heart-burnings, however,
still remained, and some incautious expressions of Sir Sidney’s were
noticed by him in terms of evident displeasure. But this did not continue
long, as no man bore more willing testimony than Nelson to the admirable
defence of Acre.

He differed from Sir Sidney as to the policy which ought to be pursued
toward the French in Egypt; and strictly commanded him, in the strongest
language, not, on any pretence, to permit a single Frenchman to leave the
country, saying that he considered it nothing short of madness to permit
that band of thieves to return to Europe. “No,” said he, “to Egypt they
went with their own consent, and there they shall remain while Nelson
commands this squadron; for never, never, will he consent to the return of
one ship or Frenchman. I wish them to perish in Egypt, and give an awful
lesson to the world of the justice of the Almighty.” If Nelson had not
thoroughly understood the character of the enemy against whom he was
engaged, their conduct in Egypt would have disclosed it. After the battle
of the Nile he had landed all his prisoners, upon a solemn engagement made
between Troubridge on one side and Captain Barre on the other, that none
of them should serve until regularly exchanged. They were no sooner on
shore than part of them were drafted into the different regiments, and the
remainder formed into a corps, called the Nautic Legion. This occasioned
Captain Hallowell to say that the French had forfeited all claim to
respect from us. “The army of Buonaparte,” said he, “are entirely
destitute of every principle of honour: they have always acted like
licentious thieves.” Buonaparte’s escape was the more regretted by Nelson,
because, if he had had sufficient force, he thought it would certainly
have been prevented. He wished to keep ships upon the watch to intercept
anything coming from Egypt; but the Admiralty calculated upon the
assistance of the Russian fleet, which failed when it was most wanted. The
ships which should have been thus employed were then required for more
pressing services; and the bloody Corsican was thus enabled to reach
Europe in safety; there to become the guilty instrument of a
wider-spreading destruction than any with which the world had ever before
been visited.

Nelson had other causes of chagrin. Earl St. Vincent, for whom he felt
such high respect, and whom Sir John Orde had challenged for having
nominated Nelson instead of himself to the command of the Nile squadron,
laid claim to prize money, as commander-in-chief, after he had quitted the
station. The point was contested, and decided against him. Nelson,
perhaps, felt this the more, because his own feelings, with regard to
money, were so different. An opinion had been given by Dr. Lawrence, which
would have excluded the junior flag-officers from prize-money. When this
was made known to him, his reply was in these words: “Notwithstanding Dr.
Lawrence’s opinion, I do not believe I have any right to exclude the
junior flag-officers; and if I have, I desire that no such claim may be
made: no, not if it were sixty times the sum—and, poor as I am, I
were never to see prize-money.”

A ship could not be spared to convey him to England; he therefore
travelled through Germany to Hamburgh, in company with his inseparable
friends, Sir William and Lady Hamilton. The Queen of Naples went with them
to Vienna. While they were at Leghorn, upon a report that the French were
approaching (for, through the folly of weak courts and the treachery of
venal cabinets, they had now recovered their ascendancy in Italy), the
people rose tumultuously, and would fain have persuaded Nelson to lead
them against the enemy. Public honours, and yet more gratifying
testimonials of public admiration, awaited Nelson wherever he went. The
Prince of Esterhazy entertained him in a style of Hungarian magnificence—a
hundred grenadiers, each six feet in height, constantly waiting at table.
At Madgeburgh, the master of the hotel where he was entertained contrived
to show him for money—admitting the curious to mount a ladder, and
peep at him through a small window. A wine merchant at Hamburgh, who was
above seventy years of age, requested to speak with Lady Hamilton; and
told her he had some Rhenish wine, of the vintage of 1625, which had been
in his own possession more than half-a-century: he had preserved it for
some extraordinary occasion; and that which had now arrived was far beyond
any that he could ever have expected. His request was, that her ladyship
would prevail upon Lord Nelson to accept six dozen of this incomparable
wine: part of it would then have the honour to flow into the heart’s blood
of that immortal hero; and this thought would make him happy during the
remainder of his life. Nelson, when this singular request was reported to
him, went into the room, and taking the worthy old gentleman kindly by the
hand, consented to receive six bottles, provided the donor would dine with
him next day. Twelve were sent; and Nelson, saying that he hoped yet to
win half-a-dozen more great victories, promised to lay by six bottles of
his Hamburgh friend’s wine, for the purpose of drinking one after each. A
German pastor, between seventy and eighty years of age, travelled forty
miles, with the Bible of his parish church, to request that Nelson would
write his name on the first leaf of it. He called him the Saviour of the
Christian world. The old man’s hope deceived him. There was no Nelson upon
shore, or Europe would have been saved; but in his foresight of the
horrors with which all Germany and all Christendom were threatened by
France, the pastor could not possibly have apprehended more than has
actually taken place.

CHAPTER VII

1800 – 1801

Nelson separates himself from his Wife—Northern Confederacy—He
goes to the Baltic, under Sir Hyde Parker—Battle of Copenhagen, and
subsequent Negotiation—Nelson is made a Viscount.

NELSON was welcomed in England with every mark of popular honour. At
Yarmouth, where he landed, every ship in the harbour hoisted her colours.
The mayor and corporation waited upon him with the freedom of the town,
and accompanied him in procession to church, with all the naval officers
on shore, and the principal inhabitants. Bonfires and illuminations
concluded the day; and on the morrow, the volunteer cavalry drew up, and
saluted him as he departed, and followed the carriage to the borders of
the county. At Ipswich, the people came out to meet him, drew him a mile
into the town, and three miles out. When he was in the AGAMEMNON, he
wished to represent this place in parliament, and some of his friends had
consulted the leading men of the corporation—the result was not
successful; and Nelson, observing that he would endeavour to find out a
preferable path into parliament, said there might come a time when the
people of Ipswich would think it an honour to have had him for their
representative. In London, he was feasted by the City, drawn by the
populace from Ludgate-hill to Guildhall, and received the thanks of the
common-council for his great victory, and a golden-hilted sword studded
with diamonds. Nelson had every earthly blessing except domestic
happiness; he had forfeited that for ever. Before he had been three months
in England he separated from Lady Nelson. Some of his last words to her
were—”I call God to witness, there is nothing in you, or your
conduct, that I wish otherwise.” This was the consequence of his
infatuated attachment to Lady Hamilton. It had before caused a quarrel
with his son-in-law, and occasioned remonstrances from his truest friends,
which produced no other effect than that of making him displeased with
them, and more dissatisfied with himself.

The Addington administration was just at this time formed; and Nelson, who
had solicited employment, and been made vice-admiral of the blue, was sent
to the Baltic, as second in command, under Sir Hyde Parker, by Earl St.
Vincent, the new First Lord of the Admiralty. The three Northern courts
had formed a confederacy for making England resign her naval rights. Of
these courts, Russia was guided by the passions of its emperor, Paul, a
man not without fits of generosity, and some natural goodness, but subject
to the wildest humours of caprice, and erased by the possession of greater
power than can ever be safely, or perhaps innocently, possessed by weak
humanity. Denmark was French at heart: ready to co-operate in all the
views of France, to recognise all her usurpations, and obey all her
injunctions. Sweden, under a king whose principles were right, and whose
feelings were generous, but who had a taint of hereditary insanity, acted
in acquiescence with the dictates of two powers whom it feared to offend.
The Danish navy, at this time, consisted of 23 ships of the line, with
about 31 frigates and smaller vessels, exclusive of guard-ships. The
Swedes had 18 ships of the line, 14 frigates and sloops, seventy-four
galleys and smaller vessels, besides gun-boats; and this force was in a
far better state of equipment than the Danish. The Russians had 82 sail of
the line and 40 frigates. Of these there were 47 sail of the line at
Cronstadt, Revel, Petersburgh, and Archangel; but the Russian fleet was
ill-manned, ill-officered, and ill-equipped. Such a combination under the
influence of France would soon have become formidable; and never did the
British Cabinet display more decision than in instantly preparing to crush
it. They erred, however, in permitting any petty consideration to prevent
them from appointing Nelson to the command. The public properly murmured
at seeing it intrusted to another; and he himself said to Earl St. Vincent
that, circumstanced as he was, this expedition would probably be the last
service that he should ever perform. The earl, in reply, besought him, for
God’s sake, not to suffer himself to be carried away by any sudden
impulse.

The season happened to be unusually favourable; so mild a winter had not
been known in the Baltic for many years. When Nelson joined the fleet at
Yarmouth, he found the admiral “a little nervous about dark nights and
fields of ice.” “But we must brace up,” said he; “these are not times for
nervous systems. I hope we shall give our northern enemies that hailstorm
of bullets which gives our dear country the dominion of the sea. We have
it, and all the devils in the north cannot take it from us, if our wooden
walls have fair play.” Before the fleet left Yarmouth, it was sufficiently
known that its destination was against Denmark. Some Danes, who belonged
to the AMAZON frigate, went to Captain Riou, and telling him what they had
heard, begged that he would get them exchanged into a ship bound on some
other destination. “They had no wish,” they said, “to quit the British
service; but they entreated that they might not be forced to fight against
their own country.” There was not in our whole navy a man who had a higher
and more chivalrous sense of duty than Riou. Tears came into his eyes
while the men were speaking. Without making any reply, he instantly
ordered his boat, and did not return to the AMAZON till he could tell them
that their wish was effected. The fleet sailed on the 12th of March. Mr.
Vansittart sailed in it; the British Cabinet still hoping to attain its
end by negotiation. It was well for England that Sir Hyde Parker placed a
fuller confidence in Nelson than the government seems to have done at this
most important crisis. Her enemies might well have been astonished at
learning that any other man should for a moment have been thought of for
the command. But so little deference was paid, even at this time, to his
intuitive and all-commanding genius, that when the fleet had reached its
first rendezvous, at the entrance of the Cattegat, he had received no
official communication whatever of the intended operations. His own mind
had been made up upon them with its accustomed decision. “All I have
gathered of our first plans,” said he, “I disapprove most exceedingly.
Honour may arise from them; good cannot. I hear we are likely to anchor
outside of Cronenburgh Castle, instead of Copenhagen, which would give
weight to our negotiation. A Danish minister would think twice before he
would put his name to war with England, when the next moment he would
probably see his master’s fleet in flames, and his capital in ruins. The
Dane should see our flag every moment he lifted up his head.”

Mr Vansittart left the fleet at the Scaw, and preceded it in a frigate
with a flag of truce. Precious time was lost by this delay, which was to
be purchased by the dearest blood of Britain and Denmark: according to the
Danes themselves, the intelligence that a British fleet was seen off the
Sound produced a much more general alarm in Copenhagen than its actual
arrival in the Roads; for the means of defence were at that time in such a
state that they could hardly hope to resist, still less to repel an enemy.
On the 21st Nelson had a long conference with Sir Hyde; and the next day
addressed a letter to him, worthy of himself and of the occasion. Mr.
Vansittart’s report had then been received. It represented the Danish
government as in the highest degree hostile, and their state of
preparation as exceeding what our cabinet had supposed possible; for
Denmark had profited with all activity of the leisure which had so
impoliticly been given her. “The more I have reflected,” said Nelson to
his commander, “the more I am confirmed in opinion, that not a moment
should be lost in attacking the enemy. They will every day and every hour
be stronger; we shall never be so good a match for them as at this moment.
The only consideration is, how to get at them with the least risk to our
ships. Here you are, with almost the safety, certainly with the honour of
England, more entrusted to you than ever yet fell to the lot of any
British officer. On your decision depends whether our country shall be
degraded in the eyes of Europe, or whether she shall rear her head higher
than ever. Again, I do repeat, never did our country depend so much upon
the success of any fleet as on this. How best to honour her and abate the
pride of her enemies, must be the subject of your deepest consideration.”

Supposing him to force the passage of the Sound, Nelson thought some
damage might be done among the masts and yards; though, perhaps, not one
of them but would be serviceable again. “If the wind be fair,” said he,
“and you determined to attack the ships and Crown Islands, you must expect
the natural issue of such a battle—ships crippled, and perhaps one
or two lost for the wind which carries you in will most probably not bring
out a crippled ship. This mode I call taking the bull by the horns. It,
however, will not prevent the Revel ships, or the Swedes, from joining the
Danes and to prevent this is, in my humble opinion, a measure absolutely
necessary, and still to attack Copenhagen.” For this he proposed two
modes. One was to pass Cronenburg, taking the risk of danger; take the
deepest and straightest channel along the middle grounds, and then coming
down to Garbar, or King’s Channel, attack the Danish line of floating
batteries and ships as might be found convenient. This would prevent a
junction, and might give an opportunity of bombarding Copenhagen. Or to
take the passage of the Belt, which might be accomplished in four or five
days; and then the attack by Draco might be made, and the junction of the
Russians prevented. Supposing them through the Belt, he proposed that a
detachment of the fleet should be sent to destroy the Russian squadron at
Revel; and that the business at Copenhagen should be attempted with the
remainder. “The measure,” he said, “might be thought bold; but the boldest
measures are the safest.”

The pilots, as men who had nothing but safety to think of, were terrified
by the formidable report of the batteries of Elsinore, and the tremendous
preparations which our negotiators, who were now returned from their
fruitless mission, had witnessed. They, therefore, persuaded Sir Hyde to
prefer the passage of the Belt. “Let it be by the Sound, by the Belt, or
anyhow,” cried Nelson, “only lose not an hour!” On the 26th they sailed
for the Belt. Such was the habitual reserve of Sir Hyde that his own
captain, the captain of the fleet, did not know which course he had
resolved to take till the fleet were getting under weigh. When Captain
Domett was thus apprised of it, he felt it his duty to represent to the
admiral his belief that if that course were persevered in, the ultimate
object would be totally defeated: it was liable to long delays, and to
accidents of ships grounding; in the whole fleet there were only one
captain and one pilot who knew anything of this formidable passage (as it
was then deemed), and their knowledge was very slight—their
instructions did not authorise them to attempt it. Supposing them safe
through the Belts, the heavy ships could not come over the GROUNDS to
attack Copenhagen; and light vessels would have no effect on such a line
of defence as had been prepared against them. Domett urged these reasons
so forcibly that Sir Hyde’s opinion was shaken, and he consented to bring
the fleet to and send for Nelson on board. There can be little doubt but
that the expedition would have failed if Captain Domett had not thus
timeously and earnestly given his advice. Nelson entirely agreed with him;
and it was finally determined to take the passage of the Sound, and the
fleet returned to its former anchorage.

The next day was more idly expended in despatching a flag of truce to the
governor of Cronenburg Castle, to ask whether he had received orders to
fire at the British fleet; as the admiral must consider the first gun to
be a declaration of war on the part of Denmark. A soldier-like and
becoming answer was returned to this formality. The governor said that the
British minister had not been sent away from Copenhagen, but had obtained
a passport at his own demand. He himself, as a soldier, could not meddle
with politics; but he was not at liberty to suffer a fleet, of which the
intention was not yet known, to approach the guns of the castle which he
had the honour to command: and he requested, “if the British admiral
should think proper to make any proposals to the King of Denmark, that he
might be apprised of it before the fleet approached nearer.” During this
intercourse, a Dane, who came on board the commander’s ship, having
occasion to express his business in writing, found the pen blunt; and,
holding it up, sarcastically said, “If your guns are not better pointed
than your pens, you will make little impression on Copenhagen!”

On that day intelligence reached the admiral of the loss of one of his
fleet, the INVINCIBLE, seventy-four, wrecked on a sand-bank, as she was
coming out of Yarmouth: four hundred of her men perished in her. Nelson,
who was now appointed to lead the van, shifted his flag to the ELEPHANT,
Captain Foley—a lighter ship than the ST. GEORGE, and, therefore,
fitter for the expected operations. The two following days were calm.
Orders had been given to pass the Sound as soon as the wind would permit;
and, on the afternoon of the 29th, the ships were cleared for action, with
an alacrity characteristic of British seamen. At daybreak on the 30th it
blew a topsail breeze from N.W. The signal was made, and the fleet moved
on in order of battle; Nelson’s division in the van, Sir Hyde’s in the
centre, and Admiral Graves’ in the rear.

Great actions, whether military or naval, have generally given celebrity
to the scenes from whence they are denominated; and thus petty villages,
and capes and bays known only to the coasting trader, become associated
with mighty deeds, and their names are made conspicuous in the history of
the world. Here, however, the scene was every way worthy of the drama. The
political importance of the Sound is such, that grand objects are not
needed there to impress the imagination; yet is the channel full of grand
and interesting objects, both of art and nature. This passage, which
Denmark had so long considered as the key of the Baltic, is, in its
narrowest part, about three miles wide; and here the city of Elsinore is
situated; except Copenhagen, the most flourishing of the Danish towns.
Every vessel which passes lowers her top-gallant sails and pays toll at
Elsinore; a toll which is believed to have had its origin in the consent
of the traders to that sea, Denmark taking upon itself the charge of
constructing lighthouses, and erecting signals, to mark the shoals and
rocks from the Cattegat to the Baltic; and they, on their part, agreeing
that all ships should pass this way in order that all might pay their
shares: none from that time using the passage of the Belt, because it was
not fitting that they who enjoyed the benefit of the beacons in dark and
stormy weather, should evade contributing to them in fair seasons and
summer nights. Of late years about ten thousand vessels had annually paid
this contribution in time of peace. Adjoining Elsinore, and at the edge of
the peninsular promontory, upon the nearest point of land to the Swedish
coast, stands Cronenburgh Castle, built after Tycho Brahe’s design; a
magnificent pile—at once a palace, and fortress, and state-prison,
with its spires, and towers, and battlements, and batteries. On the left
of the strait is the old Swedish city of Helsinburg, at the foot, and on
the side of a hill. To the north of Helsinburg the shores are steep and
rocky; they lower to the south; and the distant spires of Lanscrona, Lund,
and Malmoe are seen in the flat country. The Danish shores consist partly
of ridges of sand; but more frequently they are diversified with
cornfields, meadows, slopes, and are covered with rich wood, and villages,
and villas, and summer palaces belonging to the king and the nobility, and
denoting the vicinity of a great capital. The isles of Huen, Statholm, and
Amak, appear in the widening channel; and at the distance of twenty miles
from Elsinore stands Copenhagen in full view; the best city of the north,
and one of the finest capitals of Europe, visible, with its stately
spires, far off. Amid these magnificent objects there are some which
possess a peculiar interest for the recollections which they call forth.
The isle of Huen, a lovely domain, about six miles in circumference, had
been the munificent gift of Frederick the Second to Tycho Brahe. It has
higher shores than the near coast of Zealand, or than the Swedish coast in
that part. Here most of his discoveries were made; and here the ruins are
to be seen of his observatory, and of the mansion where he was visited by
princes; and where, with a princely spirit, he received and entertained
all comers from all parts, and promoted science by his liberality as well
as by his labours. Elsinore is a name familiar to English ears, being
inseparably associated with HAMLET, and one of the noblest works of human
genius. Cronenburgh had been the scene of deeper tragedy: here Queen
Matilda was confined, the victim of a foul and murderous court intrigue.
Here, amid heart-breaking griefs, she found consolation in nursing her
infant. Here she took her everlasting leave of that infant, when, by the
interference of England, her own deliverance was obtained; and as the ship
bore her away from a country where the venial indiscretions of youth and
unsuspicious gaiety had been so cruelly punished, upon these towers she
fixed her eyes, and stood upon the deck, obstinately gazing toward them
till the last speck had disappeared.

The Sound being the only frequented entrance to the Baltic, the great
Mediterranean of the North, few parts of the sea display so frequent a
navigation. In the height of the season not fewer than a hundred vessels
pass every four-and-twenty hours for many weeks in succession; but never
had so busy or so splendid a scene been exhibited there as on this day,
when the British fleet prepared to force that passage where, till now, all
ships had vailed their topsails to the flag of Denmark. The whole force
consisted of fifty-one sail of various descriptions, of which sixteen were
of the line. The greater part of the bomb and gun vessels took their
stations off Cronenburgh Castle, to cover the fleet; while others on the
larboard were ready to engage the Swedish shore. The Danes, having
improved every moment which ill-timed negotiation and baffling weather
gave them, had lined their shores with batteries; and as soon as the
MONARCH, which was the leading ship, came abreast of them, a fire was
opened from about a hundred pieces of cannon and mortars; our light
vessels immediately, in return, opened their fire upon the castle. Here
was all the pompous circumstance and exciting reality of war, without its
effects; for this ostentatious display was but a bloodless prelude to the
wide and sweeping destruction which was soon to follow. The enemy’s shot
fell near enough to splash the water on board our ships: not relying upon
any forbearance of the Swedes, they meant to have kept the mid channel;
but when they perceived that not a shot was fired from Helsinburg, and
that no batteries were to be seen on the Swedish shore, they inclined to
that side, so as completely to get out of reach of the Danish guns. The
uninterrupted blaze which was kept up from them till the fleet had passed,
served only to exhilarate our sailors, and afford them matter for jest, as
the shot fell in showers a full cable’s length short of its destined aim.
A few rounds were returned from some of our leading ships, till they
perceived its inutility: this, however, occasioned the only bloodshed of
the day, some of our men being killed and wounded by the bursting of a
gun. As soon as the main body had passed, the gun vessels followed,
desisting from their bombardment, which had been as innocent as that of
the enemy; and, about mid-day, the whole fleet anchored between the island
of Huen and Copenhagen. Sir Hyde, with Nelson, Admiral Graves, some of the
senior captains, and the commanding officers of the artillery and the
troops, then proceeded in a lugger to reconnoitre the enemy’s means of
defence; a formidable line of ships, radeaus, pontoons, galleys,
fire-ships and gun-boats, flanked and supported by extensive batteries,
and occupying, from one extreme point to the other, an extent of nearly
four miles.

A council of war was held In the afternoon. It was apparent that the Danes
could not be attacked without great difficulty and risk; and some of the
members of the council spoke of the number of the Swedes and the Russians
whom they should afterwards have to engage, as a consideration which ought
to be borne in mind. Nelson, who kept pacing the cabin, impatient as he
ever was of anything which savoured of irresolution, repeatedly said, “The
more numerous the better: I wish they were twice as many,—the easier
the victory, depend on it.” The plan upon which he had determined; if ever
it should be his fortune to bring a Baltic fleet to action, was, to attack
the head of their line and confuse their movements. “Close with a
Frenchman,” he used to say, “but out manoeuvre a Russian.” He offered his
services for the attack, requiring ten sail of the line and the whole of
the smaller craft. Sir Hyde gave him two more line-of-battle ships than he
asked, and left everything to his judgment.

The enemy’s force was not the only, nor the greatest, obstacle with which
the British fleet had to contend: there was another to be overcome before
they could come in contact with it. The channel was little known and
extremely intricate: all the buoys had been removed; and the Danes
considered this difficulty as almost insuperable, thinking the channel
impracticable for so large a fleet. Nelson himself saw the soundings made
and the buoys laid down, boating it upon this exhausting service, day and
night, till it was effected. When this was done he thanked God for having
enabled him to get through this difficult part of his duty. “It had worn
him down,” he said, “and was infinitely more grievous to him than any
resistance which he could experience from the enemy.”

At the first council of war, opinions inclined to an attack from the
eastward; but the next day, the wind being southerly, after a second
examination of the Danish position, it was determined to attack from the
south, approaching in the manner which Nelson had suggested in his first
thoughts. On the morning of the 1st of April the whole fleet removed to an
anchorage within two leagues of the town, and off the N.W. end of the
Middle Ground; a shoal lying exactly before the town, at about three
quarters of a mile distance, and extending along its whole sea-front. The
King’s Channel, where there is deep water, is between this shoal and the
town; and here the Danes had arranged their line of defence, as near the
shore as possible: nineteen ships and floating batteries, flanked, at the
end nearest the town, by the Crown Batteries, which were two artificial
islands, at the mouth of the harbour—most formidable works; the
larger one having, by the Danish account, 66 guns; but, as Nelson
believed, 88. The fleet having anchored, Nelson, with Riou, in the AMAZON,
made his last examination of the ground; and about one o’clock, returning
to his own ship, threw out the signal to weigh. It was received with a
shout throughout the whole division; they weighed with a light and
favourable wind: the narrow channel between the island of Saltholm and the
Middle Ground had been accurately buoyed; the small craft pointed out the
course distinctly; Riou led the way: the whole division coasted along the
outer edge of the shoal, doubled its further extremity, and anchored there
off Draco Point, just as the darkness closed—the headmost of the
enemy’s line not being more than two miles distant. The signal to prepare
for action had been made early in the evening; and as his own anchor
dropt, Nelson called out, “I will fight them the moment I have a fair
wind!” It had been agreed that Sir Hyde, with the remaining ships, should
weigh on the following morning, at the same time as Nelson, to menace the
Crown Batteries on his side, and the four ships of the line which lay at
the entrance of the arsenal; and to cover our own disabled ships as they
came out of action.

The Danes, meantime, had not been idle: no sooner did the guns of
Cronenburgh make it known to the whole city that all negotiation was at an
end, that the British fleet was passing the Sound, and that the dispute
between the two crowns must now be decided by arms, than a spirit
displayed itself most honourable to the Danish character. All ranks
offered themselves to the service of their country; the university
furnished a corps of 1200 youth, the flower of Denmark—it was one of
those emergencies in which little drilling or discipline is necessary to
render courage available: they had nothing to learn but how to manage the
guns, and day and night were employed in practising them. When the
movements of Nelson’s squadron were perceived, it was known when and where
the attack was to be expected, and the line of defence was manned
indiscriminately by soldiers, sailors, and citizens. Had not the whole
attention of the Danes been directed to strengthen their own means of
defence, they might most materially have annoyed the invading squadron,
and perhaps frustrated the impending attack; for the British ships were
crowded in an anchoring ground of little extent:—it was calm, so
that mortar-boats might have acted against them to the utmost advantage;
and they were within range of shells from Amak Island. A few fell among
them; but the enemy soon ceased to fire. It was learned afterwards, that,
fortunately for the fleet, the bed of the mortar had given way; and the
Danes either could not get it replaced, or, in the darkness, lost the
direction.

This was an awful night for Copenhagen—far more so than for the
British fleet, where the men were accustomed to battle and victory, and
had none of those objects before their eyes which rendered death terrible.
Nelson sat down to table with a large party of his officers: he was, as he
was ever wont to be when on the eve of action, in high spirits, and drank
to a leading wind, and to the success of the morrow. After supper they
returned to their respective ships, except Riou, who remained to arrange
the order of battle with Nelson and Foley, and to draw up instructions.
Hardy, meantime, went in a small boat to examine the channel between them
and the enemy; approaching so near that he sounded round their leading
ship with a pole, lest the noise of throwing the lead should discover him.
The incessant fatigue of body, as well as mind, which Nelson had undergone
during the last three days, had so exhausted him that he was earnestly
urged to go to his cot; and his old servant, Allen, using that kind of
authority which long and affectionate services entitled and enabled him to
assume on such occasions, insisted upon his complying. The cot was placed
on the floor, and he continued to dictate from it. About eleven Hardy
returned, and reported the practicability of the channel, and the depth of
water up to the enemy’s line. About one the orders were completed; and
half-a-dozen clerks, in the foremost cabin, proceeded to transcribe them,
Nelson frequently calling out to them from his cot to hasten their work,
for the wind was becoming fair. Instead of attempting to get a few hours’
sleep, he was constantly receiving reports on this important point. At
daybreak it was announced as becoming perfectly fair. The clerks finished
their work about six. Nelson, who was already up, breakfasted, and made
signal for all captains. The land forces and five hundred seamen, under
Captain Freemantle and the Hon. Colonel Stewart, were to storm the Crown
Battery as soon as its fire should be silenced: and Riou—whom Nelson
had never seen till this expedition, but whose worth he had instantly
perceived, and appreciated as it deserved—had the BLANCHE and
ALCMENE frigates, the DART and ARROW sloops, and the ZEPHYR and OTTER
fire-ships, given him, with a special command to act as circumstances
might require—every other ship had its station appointed.

Between eight and nine, the pilots and masters were ordered on board the
admirals’ ships. The pilots were mostly men who had been mates in Baltic
traders; and their hesitation about the bearing of the east end of the
shoal, and the exact line of deep water, gave ominous warning of how
little their knowledge was to be trusted. The signal for action had been
made, the wind was fair—not a moment to be lost. Nelson urged them
to be steady, to be resolute, and to decide; but they wanted the only
ground for steadiness and decision in such cases; and Nelson had reason to
regret that he had not trusted to Hardy’s single report. This was one of
the most painful moments of his life; and he always spoke of it with
bitterness. “I experienced in the Sound,” said he, “the misery of having
the honour of our country entrusted to a set of pilots, who have no other
thought than to keep the ships clear of danger, and their own silly heads
clear of shot. Everybody knows what I must have suffered; and if any merit
attaches itself to me, it was for combating the dangers of the shallows in
defiance of them.” At length Mr. Bryerly, the master of the BELLONA,
declared that he was prepared to lead the fleet; his judgment was acceded
to by the rest; they returned to their ships; and at half-past nine the
signal was made to weigh in succession.

Captain Murray, in the EDGAR, led the way; the AGAMEMNON was next in
order; but on the first attempt to leave her anchorage, she could not
weather the edge of the shoal; and Nelson had the grief to see his old
ship, in which he had performed so many years’ gallant services, immovably
aground at a moment when her help was so greatly required. Signal was then
made for the POLYPHEMUS; and this change in the order of sailing was
executed with the utmost promptitude: yet so much delay had thus been
unavoidably occasioned, that the EDGAR was for some time unsupported, and
the POLYPHEMUS, whose place should have been at the end of the enemy’s
line, where their strength was the greatest, could get no further than the
beginning, owing to the difficulty of the channel: there she occupied,
indeed, an efficient station, but one where her presence was less
required. The ISIS followed with better fortune, and took her own berth.
The BELLONA, Sir Thomas Boulden Thompson, kept too close on the starboard
shoal, and grounded abreast of the outer ship of the enemy: this was the
more vexatious, inasmuch as the wind was fair, the room ample, and three
ships had led the way. The RUSSELL, following the BELLONA, grounded in
like manner: both were within reach of shot; but their absence from their
intended stations was severely felt. Each ship had been ordered to pass
her leader on the starboard side, because the water was supposed to shoal
on the larboard shore. Nelson, who came next after these two ships,
thought they had kept too far on the starboard direction, and made signal
for them to close with the enemy, not knowing that they were aground; but
when he perceived that they did not obey the signal, he ordered the
ELEPHANT’s helm to starboard, and went within these ships: thus quitting
the appointed order of sailing, and guiding those which were to follow.
The greater part of the fleet were probably, by this act of promptitude on
his part, saved from going on shore. Each ship, as she arrived nearly
opposite to her appointed station, let her anchor go by the stern, and
presented her broadside to the Danes. The distance between each was about
half a cable. The action was fought nearly at the distance of a cable’s
length from the enemy. This, which rendered its continuance so long, was
owing to the ignorance and consequent indecision of the pilots. In
pursuance of the same error which had led the BELLONA and the RUSSELL
aground, they, when the lead was at a quarter less five, refused to
approach nearer, in dread of shoaling their water on the larboard shore: a
fear altogether erroneous, for the water deepened up to the very side of
the enemy’s line of battle.

At five minutes after ten the action began. The first half of our fleet
was engaged in about half an hour; and by half-past eleven the battle
became general. The plan of the attack had been complete: but seldom has
any plan been more disconcerted by untoward accidents. Of twelve ships of
the line, one was entirely useless, and two others in a situation where
they could not render half the service which was required of them. Of the
squadron of gun-brigs, only one could get into action; the rest were
prevented, by baffling currents, from weathering the eastern end of the
shoal; and only two of the bomb-vessels could reach their station on the
Middle Ground, and open their mortars on the arsenal, firing over both
fleets. Riou took the vacant station against the Crown Battery, with his
frigates: attempting, with that unequal force, a service in which three
sail of the line had been directed to assist.

Nelson’s agitation had been extreme when he saw himself, before the action
began, deprived of a fourth part of his ships of the line; but no sooner
was he in battle, where his squadron was received with the fire of more
than a thousand guns, than, as if that artillery, like music, had driven
away all care and painful thoughts, his countenance brightened; and, as a
bystander describes him, his conversation became joyous, animated,
elevated, and delightful. The Commander-in-Chief meantime, near enough to
the scene of action to know the unfavourable accidents which had so
materially weakened Nelson, and yet too distant to know the real state of
the contending parties, suffered the most dreadful anxiety. To get to his
assistance was impossible; both wind and current were against him. Fear
for the event, in such circumstances, would naturally preponderate in the
bravest mind; and at one o’clock, perceiving that, after three hours’
endurance, the enemy’s fire was unslackened, he began to despair of
success. “I will make the signal of recall,” said he to his captain, “for
Nelson’s sake. If he is in a condition to continue the action
successfully, he will disregard it; if he is not, it will be an excuse for
his retreat, and no blame can be imputed to him.” Captain Domett urged him
at least to delay the signal till he could communicate with Nelson; but in
Sir Hyde’s opinion the danger was too pressing for delay. “The fire,” he
said, “was too hot for Nelson to oppose; a retreat he thought must be
made; he was aware of the consequences to his own personal reputation, but
it would be cowardly in him to leave Nelson to bear the whole shame of the
failure, if shame it should be deemed.” Under, a mistaken judgment,
therefore, but with this disinterested and generous feeling, he made the
signal for retreat.

Nelson was at this time, in all the excitement of action, pacing the
quarter-deck. A shot through the mainmast knocked the splinters about; and
he observed to one of his officers with a smile, “It is warm work, and
this day may be the last to any of us at a moment:”—and then
stopping short at the gangway, added, with emotion—”But mark you! I
would not be elsewhere for thousands.” About this time the
signal-lieutenant called out that number Thirty-nine (the signal for
discontinuing the action) was thrown out by the Commander-in-Chief. He
continued to walk the deck, and appeared to take no notice of it. The
signal officer met him at the next turn, and asked if he should repeat it.
“No,” he replied, “acknowledge it.” Presently he called after him to know
if the signal for close action was still hoisted; and being answered in
the affirmative, said, “Mind you keep it so.” He now paced the deck,
moving the stump of his lost arm in a manner which always indicated great
emotion. “Do you know,” said he to Mr. Ferguson, “what is shown on board
the Commander-in-Chief? Number Thirty-nine!” Mr. Ferguson asked what that
meant. “Why, to leave off action!” Then shrugging up his shoulders, he
repeated the words—”Leave off action? Now, damn me if I do! You
know, Foley,” turning to the captain, “I have only one eye,—I have a
right to be blind sometimes:” and then putting the glass to his blind eye,
in that mood of mind which sports with bitterness, he exclaimed, “I really
do not see the signal!” Presently he exclaimed, “Damn the signal! Keep
mine for closer battle flying! That’s the way I answer signals! Nail mine
to the mast!” Admiral Graves, who was so situated that he could not
discern what was done on board the ELEPHANT, disobeyed Sir Hyde’s signal
in like manner; whether by fortunate mistake, or by a like brave
intention, has not been made known. The other ships of the line, looking
only to Nelson, continued the action. The signal, however, saved Riou’s
little squadron, but did not save its heroic leader. This squadron, which
was nearest the Commander-in-Chief, obeyed and hauled off. It had suffered
severely in its most unequal contest. For a long time the AMAZON had been
firing, enveloped in smoke, when Riou desired his men to stand fast, and
let the smoke clear off, that they might see what they were about. A fatal
order—for the Danes then got clear sight of her from the batteries,
and pointed their guns with such tremendous effect that nothing but the
signal for retreat saved this frigate from destruction. “What will Nelson
think of us?” was Riou’s mournful exclamation when he unwillingly drew
off. He had been wounded in the head by a splinter, and was sitting on a
gun, encouraging his men, when, just as the AMAZON showed her stern to the
Trekroner battery, his clerk was killed by his side; and another shot
swept away several marines who were hauling in the main-brace. “Come,
then, my boys!” cried Riou; “let us die all together!” The words had
scarcely been uttered before a raking shot cut him in two. Except it had
been Nelson himself, the British navy could not have suffered a severer
loss.

The action continued along the line with unabated vigour on our side, and
with the most determined resolution on the part of the Danes. They fought
to great advantage, because most of the vessels in their line of defence
were without masts; the few which had any standing had their top-masts
struck, and the hulls could not be seen at intervals. The ISIS must have
been destroyed by the superior weight of her enemy’s fire, if Captain
Inman, in the DESIREE frigate, had not judiciously taken a situation which
enabled him to rake the Dane, if the POLYPHEMUS had not also relieved her.
Both in the BELLONA and the ISIS many men were lost by the bursting of
their guns. The former ship was about forty years old, and these guns were
believed to be the same which she had first taken to sea: they were,
probably, originally faulty, for the fragments were full of little
air-holes. The BELLONA lost 75 men; the ISIS, 110; the MONARCH, 210. She
was, more than any other line-of-battle ship, exposed to the great
battery; and supporting, at the same time, the united fire of the HOLSTEIN
and the ZEALAND, her loss this day exceeded that of any single ship during
the whole war. Amid the tremendous carnage in this vessel, some of the men
displayed a singular instance of coolness: the pork and peas happened to
be in the kettle; a shot knocked its contents about; they picked up the
pieces, and ate and fought at the same time.

The Prince-Royal had taken his station upon one of the batteries, from
whence he beheld the action and issued his orders. Denmark had never been
engaged in so arduous a contest, and never did the Danes more nobly
display their national courage—a courage not more unhappily than
impolitically exerted in subserviency to the interests of France. Captain
Thura, of the INDFOEDSRETTEN, fell early in the action; and all his
officers, except one lieutenant and one marine officer, were either killed
or wounded In the confusion, the colours were either struck or shot away;
but she was moored athwart one of the batteries in such a situation that
the British made no attempt to board her; and a boat was despatched to the
prince, to inform him of her situation. He turned to those about him, and
said, “Gentlemen, Thura is killed; which of you will take the command?”
Schroedersee, a captain who had lately resigned on account of extreme
ill-health, answered in a feeble voice, “I will!” and hastened on board.
The crew, perceiving a new commander coming alongside, hoisted their
colours again, and fired a broadside. Schroedersee, when he came on deck,
found himself surrounded by the dead and wounded, and called to those in
the boat to get quickly on board: a ball struck him at that moment. A
lieutenant, who had accompanied him, then took the command, and continued
to fight the ship. A youth of seventeen, by name Villemoes, particularly
distinguished himself on this memorable day. He had volunteered to take
the command of a floating battery, which was a raft, consisting merely of
a number of beams nailed together, with a flooring to support the guns: it
was square, with a breast-work full of port-holes, and without masts—carrying
twenty-four guns, and one hundred and twenty men. With this he got under
the stern of the ELEPHANT, below the reach of the stern-chasers; and under
a heavy fire of small-arms from the marines, fought his raft, till the
truce was announced, with such skill as well as courage, as to excite
Nelson’s warmest admiration.

Between one and two the fire of the Danes slackened; about two it ceased
from the greater part of their line, and some of their lighter ships were
adrift. It was, however, difficult to take possession of those which
struck, because the batteries on Amak Island protected them; and because
an irregular fire was kept up from the ships themselves as the boats
approached. This arose from the nature of the action: the crews were
continually reinforced from the shore; and fresh men coming on board, did
not inquire whether the flag had been struck, or, perhaps, did not heed
it; many or most of them never having been engaged in war before—knowing
nothing, therefore, of its laws, and thinking only of defending their
country to the last extremity. The DANBROG fired upon the ELEPHANT’s boats
in this manner, though her commodore had removed her pendant and deserted
her, though she had struck, and though she was in flames. After she had
been abandoned by the commodore, Braun fought her till he lost his right
hand, and then Captain Lemming took the command. This unexpected renewal
of her fire made the ELEPHANT and GLATTON renew theirs, till she was not
only silenced, but nearly every man in the praams, ahead and astern of
her, was killed. When the smoke of their guns died away, she was seen
drifting in flames before the wind: those of her crew who remained alive,
and able to exert themselves, throwing themselves out at her port-holes.
Captain Bertie of the ARDENT sent his launch to their assistance, and
saved three-and-twenty of them.

Captain Rothe commanded the NYEBORG praam; and perceiving that she could
not much longer be kept afloat, made for the inner road. As he passed the
line, he found the AGGERSHUUS praam in a more miserable condition than his
own; her masts had all gone by the board, and she was on the point of
sinking. Rothe made fast a cable to her stern, and towed her off; but he
could get her no further than a shoal called Stubben, when she sunk, and
soon after he had worked the NYEBORG up to the landing-place, that vessel
also sunk to her gunwale. Never did any vessel come out of action in a
more dreadful plight. The stump of her foremast was the only stick
standing; her cabin had been stove in; every gun, except a single one, was
dismounted; and her deck was covered with shattered limbs and dead bodies.

By half-past two the action had ceased along that part of the line which
was astern of the ELEPHANT, but not with the ships ahead and the Crown
Batteries. Nelson, seeing the manner in which his boats were fired upon
when they went to take possession of the prizes, became angry, and said he
must either send ashore to have this irregular proceeding stopped, or send
a fire-ship and burn them. Half the shot from the Trekroner, and from the
batteries at Amak, at this time, struck the surrendered ships, four of
which had got close together; and the fire of the English, in return, was
equally or even more destructive to these poor devoted Danes. Nelson, who
was as humane as he was brave, was shocked at the massacre—for such
he called it; and with a presence of mind peculiar to himself, and never
more signally displayed than now, he retired into the stern gallery, and
wrote thus to the Crown Prince:—”Vice-Admiral Lord Nelson has been
commanded to spare Denmark when she no longer resists. The line of defence
which covered her shores has struck to the British flag; but if the firing
is continued on the part of Denmark, he must set on fire all the prizes
that he has taken, without having the power of saving the men who have so
nobly defended them. The brave Danes are the brothers, and should never be
the enemies, of the English.” A wafer was given him, but he ordered a
candle to be brought from the cockpit, and sealed the letter with wax,
affixing a larger seal than he ordinarily used. “This,” said he, “is no
time to appear hurried and informal.” Captain Sir Frederick Thesiger, who
acted as his aide-de-camp, carried this letter with a flag of truce.
Meantime the fire of the ships ahead, and the approach of the RAMILLIES
and DEFENCE from Sir Hyde’s division, which had now worked near enough to
alarm the enemy, though not to injure them, silenced the remainder of the
Danish line to the eastward of the Trekroner. That battery, however,
continued its fire. This formidable work, owing to the want of the ships
which had been destined to attack it, and the inadequate force of Riou’s
little squadron, was comparatively uninjured. Towards the close of the
action it had been manned with nearly fifteen hundred men; and the
intention of storming it, for which every preparation had been made, was
abandoned as impracticable.

During Thesiger’s absence, Nelson sent for Freemantle, from the GANGES,
and consulted with him and Foley whether it was advisable to advance, with
those ships which had sustained least damage, against the yet uninjured
part of the Danish line. They were decidedly of opinion that the best
thing which could be done was, while the wind continued fair, to remove
the fleet out of the intricate channel from which it had to retreat. In
somewhat more than half an hour after Thesiger had been despatched, the
Danish adjutant-general, Lindholm came, bearing a flag of truce, upon
which the Trekroner ceased to fire, and the action closed, after four
hours’ continuance. He brought an inquiry from the prince,—What was
the object of Nelson’s note? The British admiral wrote in reply:—”Lord
Nelson’s object in sending the flag of truce was humanity; he therefore
consents that hostilities shall cease, and that the wounded Danes may be
taken on shore. And Lord Nelson will take his prisoners out of the
vessels, and burn or carry off his prizes as he shall think fit. Lord
Nelson, with humble duty to his royal highness the prince, will consider
this the greatest victory he has ever gained, if it may be the cause of a
happy reconciliation and union between his own most gracious sovereign and
his majesty the King of Denmark.” Sir Frederick Thesiger was despatched a
second time with the reply; and the Danish adjutant-general was referred
to the commander-in-chief for a conference upon this overture. Lindholm
assenting to this, proceeded to the LONDON, which was riding at anchor
full four miles off and Nelson, losing not one of the critical moments
which he had thus gained, made signal for his leading ships to weigh in
succession; they had the shoal to clear, they were much crippled, and
their course was immediately under the guns of the Trekroner.

The MONARCH led the way. This ship had received six-and-twenty shot
between wind and water. She had not a shroud standing; there was a
double-headed shot in the heart of her foremast, and the slightest wind
would have sent every mast over her side. The imminent danger from which
Nelson had extricated himself soon became apparent: the MONARCH touched
immediately upon a shoal, over which she was pushed by the GANGES taking
her amidships; the GLATTON went clear; but the other two, the DEFIANCE and
the ELEPHANT, grounded about a mile from the Trekroner, and there remained
fixed for many hours, in spite of all the exertions of their wearied
crews. The DESIREE frigate also, at the other end of the line, having gone
toward the close of the action to assist the BELLONA, became fast on the
same shoal. Nelson left the ELEPHANT soon after she took the ground, to
follow Lindholm. The heat of the action was over, and that kind of feeling
which the surrounding scene of havoc was so well fitted to produce,
pressed heavily upon his exhausted spirits. The sky had suddenly become
overcast; white flags were waving from the mast-heads of so many shattered
ships; the slaughter had ceased, but the grief was to come; for the
account of the dead was not yet made up, and no man could tell for what
friends he might have to mourn. The very silence which follows the
cessation of such a battle becomes a weight upon the heart at first,
rather than a relief; and though the work of mutual destruction was at an
end, the DANBROG was at this time drifting about in flames; presently she
blew up; while our boats, which had put off in all directions to assist
her, were endeavouring to pick up her devoted crew, few of whom could be
saved. The fate of these men, after the gallantry which they had
displayed, particularly affected Nelson; for there was nothing in this
action of that indignation against the enemy, and that impression of
retributive justice, which at the Nile had given a sterner temper to his
mind, and a sense of austere delight in beholding the vengeance of which
he was the appointed minister. The Danes were an honourable foe; they were
of English mould as well as English blood; and now that the battle had
ceased, he regarded them rather as brethren than as enemies. There was
another reflection also which mingled with these melancholy thoughts, and
predisposed him to receive them. He was not here master of his own
movements, as at Egypt; he had won the day by disobeying his orders; and
in so far as he had been successful, had convicted the commander-in-chief
of an error in judgment. “Well,” said he, as he left the ELEPHANT, “I have
fought contrary to orders, and I shall perhaps be hanged. Never mind: let
them!”

This was the language of a man who, while he is giving utterance to uneasy
thought, clothes it half in jest, because he half repents that it has been
disclosed. His services had been too eminent on that day, his judgment too
conspicuous, his success too signal, for any commander, however jealous of
his own authority, or envious of another’s merits, to express anything but
satisfaction and gratitude: which Sir Hyde heartily felt, and sincerely
expressed. It was speedily agreed that there should be a suspension of
hostilities for four-and-twenty hours; that all the prizes should be
surrendered, and the wounded Danes carried on shore. There was a pressing
necessity for this, for the Danes, either from too much confidence in the
strength of their position and the difficulty of the channel, or supposing
that the wounded might be carried on shore during the action, which was
found totally impracticable, or perhaps from the confusion which the
attack excited, had provided no surgeons; so that, when our men boarded
the captured ships, they found many of the mangled and mutilated Danes
bleeding to death for want of proper assistance—a scene, of all
others, the most shocking to a brave man’s feelings.

The boats of Sir Hyde’s division were actively employed all night in
bringing out the prizes, and in getting afloat the ships which were on
shore. At daybreak, Nelson, who had slept in his own ship, the St. George,
rowed to the ELEPHANT; and his delight at finding her afloat seemed to
give him new life. There he took a hasty breakfast, praising the men for
their exertions, and then pushed off to the prizes, which had not yet been
removed. The ZEALAND, seventy-four, the last which struck, had drifted on
the shoal under the Trekroner; and relying, as it seems, upon the
protection which that battery might have afforded, refused to acknowledge
herself captured; saying, that though it was true her flag was not to be
seen, her pendant was still flying. Nelson ordered one of our brigs and
three long-boats to approach her, and rowed up himself to one of the
enemy’s ships, to communicate with the commodore. This officer proved to
be an old acquaintance, whom he had known in the West Indies; so he
invited himself on board, and with that urbanity as well as decision which
always characterised him, urged his claim to the ZEALAND so well that it
was admitted. The men from the boats lashed a cable round her bowsprit,
and the gun-vessel towed her away. It is affirmed, and probably with
truth, that the Danes felt more pain at beholding this than at all their
misfortunes on the preceding day; and one of the officers, Commodore Steen
Rille, went to the Trekroner battery, and asked the commander why he had
not sunk the ZEALAND, rather than suffer her thus to be carried off by the
enemy?

This was, indeed, a mournful day for Copenhagen! It was Good Friday; but
the general agitation, and the mourning which was in every house, made all
distinction of days be forgotten. There were, at that hour, thousands in
that city who felt, and more perhaps who needed, the consolations of
Christianity, but few or none who could be calm enough to think of its
observances. The English were actively employed in refitting their own
ships, securing the prizes, and distributing the prisoners; the Danes, in
carrying on shore and disposing of the wounded and the dead. It had been a
murderous action. Our loss, in killed and wounded, was 953. Part of this
slaughter might have been spared. The commanding officer of the troops on
board one of our ships asked where his men should be stationed? He was
told that they could be of no use! that they were not near enough for
musketry, and were not wanted at the guns; they had, therefore, better go
below. This, he said, was impossible; it would be a disgrace that could
never be wiped away. They were, therefore, drawn up upon the gangway, to
satisfy this cruel point of honour; and there, without the possibility of
annoying the enemy, they were mowed down! The loss of the Danes, including
prisoners, amounted to about six thousand. The negotiations, meantime,
went on; and it was agreed that Nelson should have an interview with the
prince the following day. Hardy and Freemantle landed with him. This was a
thing as unexampled as the other circumstances of the battle. A strong
guard was appointed to escort him to the palace, as much for the purpose
of security as of honour. The populace, according to the British account,
showed a mixture of admiration, curiosity, and displeasure, at beholding
that man in the midst of them who had inflicted such wounds upon Denmark.
But there were neither acclamations nor murmurs. “The people,” says a
Dane, “did not degrade themselves with the former, nor disgrace themselves
with the latter: the admiral was received as one brave enemy ever ought to
receive another—he was received with respect.” The preliminaries of
the negotiation were adjusted at this interview. During the repast which
followed, Nelson, with all the sincerity of his character, bore willing
testimony to the valour of his foes. He told the prince that he had been
in a hundred and five engagements, but that this was the most tremendous
of all. “The French,” he said, “fought bravely; but they could not have
stood for one hour the fight which the Danes had supported for four.” He
requested that Villemoes might be introduced to him; and, shaking hands
with the youth, told the prince that he ought to be made an admiral. The
prince replied: “If, my lord, I am to make all my brave officers admirals,
I should have no captains or lieutenants in my service.”

The sympathy of the Danes for their countrymen who had bled in their
defence, was not weakened by distance of time or place in this instance.
Things needful for the service, or the comfort of the wounded, were sent
in profusion to the hospitals, till the superintendents gave public notice
that they could receive no more. On the third day after the action, the
dead were buried in the naval churchyard: the ceremony was made as public
and as solemn as the occasion required; such a procession had never before
been seen in that, or perhaps in any other city. A public monument was
erected upon the spot where the slain were gathered together. A
subscription was opened on the day of the funeral for the relief of the
sufferers, and collections in aid of it made throughout all the churches
in the kingdom. This appeal to the feelings of the people was made with
circumstances which gave it full effect. A monument was raised in the
midst of the church, surmounted by the Danish colours: young maidens,
dressed in white, stood round it, with either one who had been wounded in
the battle, or the widow and orphans of some one who had fallen: a
suitable oration was delivered from the pulpit, and patriotic hymns and
songs were afterwards performed. Medals were distributed to all the
officers, and to the men who had distinguished themselves. Poets and
painters vied with each other in celebrating a battle which, disastrous as
it was, had yet been honourable to their country: some, with pardonable
sophistry, represented the advantage of the day as on their own side. One
writer discovered a more curious, but less disputable ground of
satisfaction, in the reflection that Nelson, as may be inferred from his
name, was of Danish descent, and his actions therefore, the Dane argued,
were attributable to Danish valour.

The negotiation was continued during the five following days; and in that
interval the prizes were disposed of, in a manner which was little
approved by Nelson. Six line-of-battle ships and eight praams had been
taken. Of these the HOLSTEIN, sixty-four, was the only one which was sent
home. The ZEALAND was a finer ship; but the ZEALAND and all the others
were burned, and their brass battering cannon sunk with the hulls in such
shoal water, that, when the fleet returned from Revel, they found the
Danes, with craft over the wrecks, employed in getting the guns up again.
Nelson, though he forbore from any public expression of displeasure at
seeing the proofs and trophies of his victory destroyed, did not forget to
represent to the Admiralty the case of those who were thus deprived of
their prize-money. “Whether,” said he to Earl St. Vincent, “Sir Hyde
Parker may mention the subject to you, I know not; for he is rich, and
does not want it: nor is it, you will believe me, any desire to get a few
hundred pounds that actuates me to address this letter to you; but justice
to the brave officers and men who fought on that day. It is true our
opponents were in hulks and floats, only adapted for the position they
were in; but that made our battle so much the harder, and victory so much
the more difficult to obtain. Believe me, I have weighed all
circumstances; and, in my conscience, I think that the king should send a
gracious message to the House of Commons for a gift to this fleet; for
what must be the natural feelings of the officers and men belonging to it,
to see their rich commander-in-chief burn all the fruits of their victory,
which, if fitted up and sent to England (as many of them might have been
by dismantling part of our fleet), would have sold for a good round sum.”

On the 9th, Nelson landed again, to conclude the terms of the armistice.
During its continuance the armed ships and vessels of Denmark were to
remain in their actual situation, as to armament, equipment, and hostile
position; and the treaty of armed neutrality, as far as related to the
co-operation of Denmark, was suspended. The prisoners were to be sent on
shore; an acknowledgment being given for them, and for the wounded also,
that: they might be carried to Great Britain’s credit in the account of
war, in case hostilities should be renewed. The British fleet was allowed
to provide itself with all things requisite for the health and comfort of
its men. A difficulty arose respecting the duration of the armistice. The
Danish commissioners fairly stated their fears of Russia; and Nelson, with
that frankness which sound policy and the sense of power seem often to
require as well as justify in diplomacy, told them his reason for
demanding a long term was, that he might have time to act against the
Russian fleet, and then return to Copenhagen. Neither party would yield
upon this point; and one of the Danes hinted at the renewal of
hostilities. “Renew hostilities!” cried Nelson to one of his friends—for
he understood French enough to comprehend what was said, though not to
answer it in the same language—”tell him we are ready at a moment!
ready to bombard this very night!” The conference, however, proceeded
amicably on both sides; and as the commissioners could not agree on this
head, they broke up, leaving Nelson to settle it with the prince. A levee
was held forthwith in one of the state-rooms, a scene well suited for such
a consultation; for all these rooms had been stripped of their furniture,
in fear of a bombardment. To a bombardment also Nelson was looking at this
time: fatigue and anxiety, and vexation at the dilatory measures of the
commander-in-chief, combined to make him irritable; and as he was on his
way to the prince’s dining-room, he whispered to the officer on whose arm
he was leaning, “Though I have only one eye, I can see that all this will
burn well.” After dinner he was closeted with the prince; and they agreed
that the armistice should continue fourteen weeks; and that, at its
termination, fourteen days’ notice should be given before the
recommencement of hostilities.

An official account of the battle was published by Olfert Fischer, the
Danish commander-in-chief in which it was asserted that our force was
greatly superior; nevertheless, that two of our ships of the line had
struck; that the others were so weakened, and especially Lord Nelson’s own
ship, as to fire only single shots for an hour before the end of the
action; and that this hero himself, in the middle and very heat of the
conflict, sent a flag of truce on shore, to propose a cessation of
hostilities. For the truth of this account the Dane appealed to the
prince, and all those who, like him, had been eyewitnesses of the scene.
Nelson was exceedingly indignant at such a statement, and addressed a
letter in confutation of it to the Adjutant-General Lindholm; thinking
this incumbent on him for the information of the prince, since His Royal
Highness had been appealed to as a witness: “Otherwise,” said he, “had
Commodore Fischer confined himself to his own veracity, I should have
treated his official letter with the contempt it deserved, and allowed the
world to appreciate the merits of the two commanding officers.” After
pointing out and detecting some of the misstatements in the account, he
proceeds: “As to his nonsense about victory, His Royal Highness will not
much credit him. I sunk, burnt, captured, or drove into the harbour, the
whole line of defence to the southward of the Crown Islands. He says he is
told that two British ships struck. Why did he not take possession of
them? I took possession of his as fast as they struck. The reason is
clear, that he did not believe it: he must have known the falsity of the
report. He states that the ship in which I had the honour to hoist my flag
fired latterly only single guns. It is true; for steady and cool were my
brave fellows, and did not wish to throw away a single shot. He seems to
exult that I sent on shore a flag of truce. You know, and His Royal
Highness knows, that the guns fired from the shore could only fire through
the Danish ships which had surrendered; and that, if I fired at the shore,
it could only be in the same manner. God forbid that I should destroy an
unresisting Dane! When they become my prisoners, I become their
protector.”

This letter was written in terms of great asperity to the Danish
commander. Lindholm replied in a manner every way honourable to himself.
He vindicated the commodore in some points, and excused him in others;
reminding Nelson that every commander-in-chief was liable to receive
incorrect reports. With a natural desire to represent the action in the
most favourable light to Denmark, he took into the comparative strength of
the two parties the ships which were aground, and which could not get into
action; and omitted the Trekroner and the batteries upon Amak Island. He
disclaimed all idea of claiming as a victory, “what, to every intent and
purpose,” said he, “was a defeat—but not an inglorious one. As to
your lordship’s motive for sending a flag of truce, it never can be
misconstrued and your subsequent conduct has sufficiently shown that
humanity is always the companion of true valour. You have done more: you
have shown yourself a friend to the re-establishment of peace and good
harmony between this country and Great Britain. It is, therefore, with the
sincerest esteem I shall always feel myself attached to your lordship.”
Thus handsomely winding up his reply, he soothed and contented Nelson; who
drawing up a memorandum of the comparative force of the two parties for
his own satisfaction, assured Lindholm that, if the commodore’s statement
had been in the same manly and honourable strain, he would have been the
last man to have noticed any little inaccuracies which might get into a
commander-in-chiefs public letter.

For the battle of Copenhagen Nelson was raised to the rank of viscount—an
inadequate mark of reward for services so splendid, and of such paramount
importance to the dearest interests of England. There was, however, some
prudence in dealing out honours to him step by step: had he lived long
enough, he would have fought his way up to a dukedom.

CHAPTER VIII

1801 – 1805

Sir Hyde Parker is recalled and Nelson appointed Commander—He goes
to Revel—Settlement of Affairs in the Baltic—Unsuccessful
Attempt upon the Flotilla at Boulogne—Peace of Amiens—Nelson
takes Command in the Mediterranean on the Renewal of the War—Escape
of the Toulon Fleet—Nelson chases them to the West Indies and back—Delivers
up his Squadron to Admiral Cornwallis and lands in England.

WHEN Nelson informed Earl St. Vincent that the armistice had been
concluded, he told him also, without reserve, his own discontent at the
dilatoriness and indecision which he witnessed, and could not remedy. “No
man,” said he, “but those who are on the spot, can tell what I have gone
through, and do suffer. I make no scruple in saying, that I would have
been at Revel fourteen days ago! that, without this armistice, the fleet
would never have gone, but by order of the Admiralty; and with it, I
daresay, we shall not go this week. I wanted Sir Hyde to let me, at least,
go and cruise off Carlscrona, to prevent the Revel ships from getting in.
I said I would not go to Revel to take any of those laurels which I was
sure he would reap there. Think for me, my dear lord: and if I have
deserved well, let me return; if ill, for Heaven’s sake supersede me, for
I cannot exist in this state.”

Fatigue, incessant anxiety, and a climate little suited to one of a tender
constitution, which had now for many years been accustomed to more genial
latitudes, made him at this time seriously determine upon returning home.
“If the northern business were not settled,” he said, “they must send more
admirals; for the keen air of the north had cut him to the heart.” He felt
the want of activity and decision in the commander-in-chief more keenly;
and this affected his spirits, and, consequently, his health, more than
the inclemency of the Baltic. Soon after the armistice was signed, Sir
Hyde proceeded to the eastward with such ships as were fit for service,
leaving Nelson to follow with the rest, as soon as those which had
received slight damages should be repaired, and the rest sent to England.
In passing between the isles of Amak and Saltholm, most of the ships
touched the ground, and some of them stuck fast for a while: no serious
injury, however, was sustained. It was intended to act against the
Russians first, before the breaking up of the frost should enable them to
leave Revel; but learning on the way that the Swedes had put to sea to
effect a junction with them, Sir Hyde altered his course, in hopes of
intercepting this part of the enemy’s force. Nelson had, at this time,
provided for the more pressing emergencies of the service, and prepared on
the 18th to follow the fleet. The ST. GEORGE drew too much water to pass
the channel between the isles without being lightened; the guns were
therefore taken out, and put on board an American vessel; a contrary wind,
however, prevented Nelson from moving; and on that same evening, while he
was thus delayed, information reached him of the relative situation of the
Swedish and British fleets, and the probability of an action. The fleet
was nearly ten leagues distant, and both wind and current contrary, but it
was not possible that Nelson could wait for a favourable season under such
an expectation. He ordered his boat immediately, and stepped into it.
Night was setting in, one of the cold spring nights of the north; and it
was discovered, soon after they left the ship, that in their haste they
had forgotten to provide him with a boat-cloak. He, however, forbade them
to return for one; and when one of his companions offered his own
great-coat, and urged him to make use of it, he replied, “I thank you very
much; but, to tell you the truth, my anxiety keeps me sufficiently warm at
present.”

“Do you think,” said he presently, “that our fleet has quitted Bornholm?
If it has, we must follow it to Carlscrona.” About midnight he reached it,
and once more got on board the ELEPHANT. On the following morning the
Swedes were discovered; as soon, however, as they perceived the English
approaching, they retired, and took shelter in Carlscrona, behind the
batteries on the island, at the entrance of that port. Sir Hyde sent in a
flag of truce, stating that Denmark had concluded an armistice, and
requiring an explicit declaration from the court of Sweden, whether it
would adhere to or abandon the hostile measures which it had taken against
the rights and interests of Great Britain? The commander, Vice-Admiral
Cronstadt, replied, “That he could not answer a question which did not
come within the particular circle of his duty; but that the king was then
at Maloe, and would soon be at Carlscrona.” Gustavus shortly afterwards
arrived, and an answer was then returned to this effect: “That his Swedish
majesty would not, for a moment, fail to fulfil, with fidelity and
sincerity, the engagements he had entered into with his allies; but he
would not refuse to listen to equitable proposals made by deputies
furnished with proper authority by the King of Great Britain to the united
northern powers.” Satisfied with this answer, and with the known
disposition of the Swedish court, Sir Hyde sailed for the Gulf of Finland;
but he had not proceeded far before a despatch boat from the Russian
ambassador at Copenhagen arrived, bringing intelligence of the death of
the Emperor Paul, and that his successor Alexander had accepted the offer
made by England to his father of terminating the dispute by a convention:
the British admiral was, therefore, required to desist from all further
hostilities.

It was Nelson’s maxim, that, to negotiate with effect, force should be at
hand, and in a situation to act. The fleet, having been reinforced from
England, amounted to eighteen sail of the line, and the wind was fair for
Revel. There he would have sailed immediately to place himself between
that division of the Russian fleet and the squadron at Cronstadt, in case
this offer should prove insincere. Sir Hyde, on the other hand, believed
that the death of Paul had effected all which was necessary. The manner of
that death, indeed, rendered it apparent that a change of policy would
take place in the cabinet of Petersburgh; but Nelson never trusted
anything to the uncertain events of time, which could possibly be secured
by promptitude or resolution. It was not, therefore, without severe
mortification, that he saw the commander-in-chief return to the coast of
Zealand, and anchor in Kioge Bay, there to wait patiently for what might
happen.

There the fleet remained till dispatches arrived from home, on the 5th of
May, recalling Sir Hyde, and appointing Nelson commander-in-chief.

Nelson wrote to Earl St. Vincent that he was unable to hold this
honourable station. Admiral Graves also was so ill as to be confined to
his bed; and he entreated that some person might come out and take the
command. “I will endeavour,” said he, “to do my best while I remain; but,
my dear lord, I shall either soon go to heaven, I hope, or must rest quiet
for a time. If Sir Hyde were gone, I would now be under sail.” On the day
when this was written, he received news of his appointment. Not a moment
was now lost. His first signal, as commander-in-chief, was to hoist in all
launches and prepare to weigh; and on the 7th he sailed from Kioge. Part
of his fleet was left at Bornholm, to watch the Swedes, from whom he
required and obtained an assurance that the British trade in the Cattegat
and in the Baltic should not be molested; and saying how unpleasant it
would be to him if anything should happen which might for a moment disturb
the returning harmony between Sweden and Great Britain, he apprised them
that he was not directed to abstain from hostilities should he meet with
the Swedish fleet at sea. Meantime he himself; with ten sail of the line,
two frigates, a brig, and a schooner, made for the Gulf of Finland. Paul,
in one of the freaks of his tyranny, had seized upon all the British
effects in Russia, and even considered British subjects as his prisoners.
“I will have all the English shipping and property restored,” said Nelson,
“but I will do nothing violently, neither commit the affairs of my
country, nor suffer Russia to mix the affairs of Denmark or Sweden with
the detention of our ships.” The wind was fair, and carried him in four
days to Revel Roads. But the Bay had been clear of firm ice on the 29th of
April, while the English were lying idly at Kioge. The Russians had cut
through the ice in the mole six feet thick, and their whole squadron had
sailed for Cronstadt on the 3rd. Before that time it had lain at the mercy
of the English. “Nothing,” Nelson said, “if it had been right to make the
attack, could have saved one ship of them in two hours after our entering
the bay.”

It so happened that there was no cause to regret the opportunity which had
been lost, and Nelson immediately put the intentions of Russia to the
proof. He sent on shore, to say that he came with friendly views, and was
ready to return a salute. On their part the salute was delayed, till a
message was sent to them to inquire for what reason; and the officer whose
neglect had occasioned the delay, was put under arrest. Nelson wrote to
the emperor, proposing to wait on him personally and congratulate him on
his accession, and urged the immediate release of British subjects, and
restoration of British property.

The answer arrived on the 16th: Nelson, meantime, had exchanged visits
with the governor, and the most friendly intercourse had subsisted between
the ships and the shore. Alexander’s ministers, in their reply, expressed
their surprise at the arrival of a British fleet in a Russian port, and
their wish that it should return: they professed, on the part of Russia,
the most friendly disposition towards Great Britain; but declined the
personal visit of Lord Nelson, unless he came in a single ship. There was
a suspicion implied in this which stung Nelson; and he said the Russian
ministers would never have written thus if their fleet had been at Revel.
He wrote an immediate reply, expressing what he felt; he told the court of
Petersburgh, “That the word of a British admiral, when given in
explanation of any part of his conduct, was as sacred as that of any
sovereign’s in Europe.” And he repeated, “that, under other circumstances,
it would have been his anxious wish to have paid his personal respects to
the emperor, and signed with his own hand the act of amity between the two
countries.” Having despatched this, he stood out to sea immediately,
leaving a brig to bring off the provisions which had been contracted for,
and to settle the accounts. “I hope all is right,” said he, writing to our
ambassador at Berlin; “but seamen are but bad negotiators; for we put to
issue in five minutes what diplomatic forms would be five months doing.”

On his way down the Baltic, however, he met the Russian admiral,
Tchitchagof, whom the emperor, in reply to Sir Hyde’s overtures, had sent
to communicate personally with the British commander-in-chief. The reply
was such as had been wished and expected; and these negotiators going,
seamen-like, straight to their object, satisfied each other of the
friendly intentions of their respective governments. Nelson then anchored
off Rostock; and there he received an answer to his last despatch from
Revel, in which the Russian court expressed their regret that there should
have been any misconception between them; informed him that the British
vessels which Paul had detained were ordered to be liberated, and invited
him to Petersburgh, in whatever mode might be most agreeable to himself.
Other honours awaited him: the Duke of Mecklenburgh Strelitz, the queen’s
brother, came to visit him on board his ship; and towns of the inland
parts of Mecklenburgh sent deputations, with their public books of record,
that they might have the name of Nelson in them written by his own hand.

From Rostock the fleet returned to Kioge Bay. Nelson saw that the temper
of the Danes towards England was such as naturally arose from the
chastisement which they had so recently received. “In this nation,” said
he, “we shall not be forgiven for having the upper hand of them: I only
thank God we have, or they would try to humble us to the dust.” He saw
also that the Danish cabinet was completely subservient to France: a
French officer was at this time the companion and counsellor of the Crown
Prince; and things were done in such open violation of the armistice, that
Nelson thought a second infliction of vengeance would soon be necessary.
He wrote to the Admiralty, requesting a clear and explicit reply to his
inquiry, Whether the commander-in-chief was at liberty to hold the
language becoming a British admiral? “Which, very probably,” said he, “if
I am here, will break the armistice, and set Copenhagen in a blaze. I see
everything which is dirty and mean going on, and the Prince Royal at the
head of it. Ships have been masted, guns taken on board, floating
batteries prepared, and except hauling out and completing their rigging,
everything is done in defiance of the treaty. My heart burns at seeing the
word of a prince, nearly allied to our good king, so falsified; but his
conduct is such, that he will lose his kingdom if he goes on; for Jacobins
rule in Denmark. I have made no representations yet, as it would be
useless to do so until I have the power of correction. All I beg, in the
name of the future commander-in-chief, is, that the orders may be clear;
for enough is done to break twenty treaties, if it should be wished, or to
make the Prince Royal humble himself before British generosity.”

Nelson was not deceived in his judgment of the Danish cabinet, but the
battle of Copenhagen had crippled its power. The death of the Czar Paul
had broken the confederacy; and that cabinet, therefore, was compelled to
defer till a more convenient season the indulgence of its enmity towards
Great Britain. Soon afterwards Admiral Sir Charles Maurice Pole arrived to
take the command. The business, military and political, had by that time
been so far completed that the presence of the British fleet soon became
no longer necessary. Sir Charles, however, made the short time of his
command memorable, by passing the Great Belt for the first time with
line-of-battle ships, working through the channel against adverse winds.
When Nelson left the fleet, this speedy termination of the expedition,
though confidently expected, was not certain; and he, in his unwillingness
to weaken the British force, thought at one time of traversing Jutland in
his boat, by the canal to Tonningen on the Eyder and finding his way home
from thence. This intention was not executed; but he returned in a brig,
declining to accept a frigate, which few admirals would have done,
especially if, like him, they suffered from sea-sickness in a small
vessel. On his arrival at Yarmouth, the first thing he did was to visit
the hospital and see the men who had been wounded in the late battle—that
victory which had added new glory to the name of Nelson, and which was of
more importance even than the battle of the Nile to the honour, the
strength, and security of England.

The feelings of Nelson’s friends, upon the news of his great victory at
Copenhagen, were highly described by Sir William Hamilton in a letter to
him. “We can only expect,” he says, “what me know well, and often said
before, that Nelson WAS, IS, and to the LAST WILL EVER BE, THE FIRST. Emma
did not know whether she was on her head or heels—in such a hurry to
tell your great news, that she could utter nothing but tears of joy and
tenderness. I went to Davison, and found him still in bed, having had a
severe fit of the gout, and with your letter, which he had just received;
and he cried like a child; but, what was very extraordinary, assured me
that, from the instant he had read your letter, all pain had left him, and
that he felt himself able to get up and walk about. Your brother, Mrs.
Nelson, and Horace dined with us. Your brother was more extraordinary than
ever. He would get up suddenly and cut a caper, rubbing his hands every
time that the thought of your fresh laurels came into his head. But I am
sure that no one really rejoiced more at heart than I did. I have lived
too long to have ecstasies! But with calm reflection, I felt for my friend
having got to the very summit of glory! the NE PLUS ULTRA! that he has had
another opportunity of rendering his country the most important service,
and manifesting again his judgment, his intrepidity, and his humanity.”

He had not been many weeks on shore before he was called upon to undertake
a service, for which no Nelson was required. Buonaparte, who was now first
consul, and in reality sole ruler of France, was making preparations, upon
a great scale, for invading England; but his schemes in the Baltic had
been baffled; fleets could not be created as they were wanted; and his
armies, therefore, were to come over in gun-boats, and such small craft as
could be rapidly built or collected for the occasion. From the former
governments of France such threats have only been matter of insult and
policy: in Buonaparte they were sincere; for this adventurer, intoxicated
with success, already began to imagine that all things were to be
submitted to his fortune. We had not at that time proved the superiority
of our soldiers over the French; and the unreflecting multitude were not
to be persuaded that an invasion could only be effected by numerous and
powerful fleets. A general alarm was excited; and, in condescension to
this unworthy feeling, Nelson was appointed to a command, extending from
Orfordness to Beachy Head, on both shores—a sort of service, he
said, for which he felt no other ability than what might be found in his
zeal.

To this service, however, such as it was, he applied with his wonted
alacrity; though in no cheerful frame of mind. To Lady Hamilton, his only
female correspondent, he says at this time; “I am not in very good
spirits; and, except that our country demands all our services and
abilities to bring about an honourable peace, nothing should prevent my
being the bearer of my own letter. But, my dear friend, I know you are so
true and loyal an Englishwoman, that you would hate those who would not
stand forth in defence of our king, laws, religion, and all that is dear
to us. It is your sex that makes us go forth, and seem to tell us, ‘None
but the brave deserve the fair’; and if we fall, we still live in the
hearts of those females. It is your sex that rewards us; it is your sex
who cherish our memories; and you, my dear honoured friend, are, believe
me, the first, the best of your sex. I have been the world around, and in
every corner of it, and never yet saw your equal, or even one who could be
put in comparison with you. You know how to reward virtue, honour, and
courage, and never to ask if it is placed in a prince, duke, lord, or
peasant.” Having hoisted his flag in the MEDUSA frigate, he went to
reconnoitre Boulogne the point from which it was supposed the great
attempt would be made, and which the French, in fear of an attack
themselves, were fortifying with all care. He approached near enough to
sink two of their floating batteries, and to destroy a few gun-boats which
were without the pier. What damage was done within could not be
ascertained. “Boulogne,” he said, “was certainly not a very pleasant place
that morning; but,” he added, “it is not my wish to injure the poor
inhabitants; and the town is spared as much as the nature of the service
will admit.” Enough was done to show the enemy that they could not, with
impunity, come outside their own ports. Nelson was satisfied by what he
saw, that they meant to make an attempt from this place, but that it was
impracticable; for the least wind at W.N.W. and they were lost. The ports
of Flushing and Flanders were better points: there we could not tell by
our eyes what means of transport were provided. From thence, therefore, if
it came forth at all, the expedition would come. “And what a forlorn
undertaking!” said he: “consider cross tides, &c. As for rowing, that
is impossible. It Is perfectly right to be prepared for a mad government;
but with the active force which has been given me, I may pronounce it
almost impracticable.”

That force had been got together with an alacrity which has seldom been
equalled. On the 28th of July, we were, in Nelson’s own words, literally
at the foundation of our fabric of defence, and twelve days afterwards we
were so prepared on the enemy’s coast that he did not believe they could
get three miles from their ports. The MEDUSA, returning to our own shores,
anchored in the rolling ground off Harwich; and when Nelson wished to get
to the Nore in her, the wind rendered it impossible to proceed there by
the usual channel. In haste to be at the Nore, remembering that he had
been a tolerable pilot for the mouth of the Thames in his younger days,
and thinking it necessary that he should know all that could be known of
the navigation, he requested the maritime surveyor of the coast, Mr.
Spence, to get him into the Swin by any channel; for neither the pilots
which he had on board, nor the Harwich ones, would take charge of the
ship. No vessel drawing more than fourteen feet had ever before ventured
over the Naze. Mr. Spence, however, who had surveyed the channel, carried
her safely through. The channel has since been called Nelson’s, though he
himself wished it to be named after the MEDUSA: his name needed no new
memorial.

Nelson’s eye was upon Flushing. “To take possession of that place,” he
said, “would be a week’s expedition for four or five thousand troops.”
This, however, required a consultation with the Admiralty; and that
something might be done, meantime he resolved upon attacking the flotilla
in the mouth of the Boulogne harbour. This resolution was made in
deference to the opinion of others, and to the public feeling, which was
so preposterously excited. He himself scrupled not to assert that the
French army would never embark at Boulogne for the invasion of England;
and he owned that this boat warfare was not exactly congenial to his
feelings. Into Helvoet or Flushing he should be happy to lead, if
Government turned their thoughts that way. “While I serve,” said he, “I
will do it actively, and to the very best of my abilities. I require
nursing like a child,” he added; “my mind carries me beyond my strength,
and will do me up; but such is my nature.”

The attack was made by the boats of the squadron in five divisions, under
Captains Somerville, Parker, Cotgrave, Jones, and Conn. The previous essay
had taught the French the weak parts of their position; and they omitted
no means of strengthening it, and of guarding against the expected
attempt. The boats put off about half-an-hour before midnight; but, owing
to the darkness, and tide and half-tide, which must always make night
attacks so uncertain on the coasts of the Channel, the divisions
separated. One could not arrive at all; another not till near daybreak.
The others made their attack gallantly; but the enemy were fully prepared:
every vessel was defended by long poles, headed with iron spikes,
projecting from their sides: strong nettings were braced up to their lower
yards; they were moored by the bottom to the shore, they were strongly
manned with soldiers, and protected by land batteries, and the shore was
lined with troops. Many were taken possession of; and, though they could
not have been brought out, would have been burned, had not the French
resorted to a mode of offence, which they have often used, but which no
other people have ever been wicked enough to employ. The moment the firing
ceased on board one of their own vessels they fired upon it from the
shore, perfectly regardless of their own men.

The commander of one of the French divisions acted like a generous enemy.
He hailed the boats as they approached, and cried out in English: “Let me
advise you, my brave Englishmen, to keep your distance: you can do nothing
here; and it is only uselessly shedding the blood of brave men to make the
attempt.” The French official account boasted of the victory. “The
combat,” it said, “took place in sight of both countries; it was the first
of the kind, and the historian would have cause to make this remark.” They
guessed our loss at four or five hundred; it amounted to one hundred and
seventy-two. In his private letters to the Admiralty, Nelson affirmed,
that had our force arrived as he intended, it was not all the chains in
France which could have prevented our men from bringing off the whole of
the vessels. There had been no error committed, and never did Englishmen
display more courage. Upon this point Nelson was fully satisfied; but he
said he should never bring himself again to allow any attack wherein he
was not personally concerned; and that his mind suffered more than if he
had had a leg shot off in the affair. He grieved particularly for Captain
Parker, an excellent officer, to whom he was greatly attached, and who had
an aged father looking to him for assistance. His thigh was shattered in
the action; and the wound proved mortal, after some weeks of suffering and
manly resignation. During this interval, Nelson’s anxiety was very great.
“Dear Parker is my child,” said he; “for I found him in distress.” And
when he received the tidings of his death, he replied: “You will judge of
my feelings: God’s will be done. I beg that his hair may be cut off and
given me; it shall be buried in my grave. Poor Mr. Parker! What a son has
he lost! If I were to say I was content, I should lie; but I shall
endeavour to submit with all the fortitude in my power. His loss has made
a wound in my heart, which time will hardly heal.”

“You ask me, my dear friend,” he says to Lady Hamilton, “if I am going on
more expeditions? and even if I was to forfeit your friendship, which is
dearer to me than all the world, I can tell you nothing. For, I go out: I
see the enemy, and can get at them, it is my duty: and you would naturally
hate me, if I kept back one moment. I long to pay them for their tricks
t’other day, the debt of a drubbing, which surely I’ll pay: but WHEN,
WHERE or HOW, it is impossible, your own good sense must tell you, for me
or mortal man to say.” Yet he now wished to be relieved from this service.
The country, he said, had attached a confidence to his name, which he had
submitted to, and therefore had cheerfully repaired to the station; but
this boat business, though it might be part of a great plan of invasion,
could never be the only one, and he did not think it was a command for a
vice-admiral. It was not that he wanted a more lucrative situation; for,
seriously indisposed as he was, and low-spirited from private
considerations, he did not know, if the Mediterranean were vacant, that he
should be equal to undertake it. He was offended with the Admiralty for
refusing him leave to go to town when he had solicited: in reply to a
friendly letter from Troubridge he says, “I am at this moment as firmly of
opinion as ever, that Lord St. Vincent and yourself should have allowed of
my coming to town for my own affairs, for every one knows I left it
without a thought for myself.”

His letters at this time breathe an angry feeling toward Troubridge, who
was now become, he said, one of his lords and masters. “I have a letter
from him,” he says, “recommending me to wear flannel shirts. Does he care
for me? NO: but never mind. They shall work hard to get me again. The cold
has settled in my bowels. I wish the Admiralty had my complaint: but they
have no bowels, at least for me. I daresay Master Troubridge is grown fat;
I know I am grown lean with my complaint, which, but for their
indifference about my health, could never have happened; or, at least, I
should have got well long ago in a warm room with a good fire and sincere
friend.” In the same tone of bitterness he complained that he was not able
to promote those whom he thought deserving. “Troubridge,” he says, “has so
completely prevented my ever mentioning anybody’s service, that I am
become a cipher, and he has gained a victory over Nelson’s spirit. I am
kept here, for what?—he may be able to tell, I cannot. But long it
cannot, shall not be.” An end was put to this uncomfortable state of mind
when, fortunately (on that account) for him, as well as happily for the
nation, the peace of Amiens was just at this time signed. Nelson rejoiced
that the experiment was made, but was well aware that it was an
experiment. He saw what he called the misery of peace, unless the utmost
vigilance and prudence were exerted; and he expressed, in bitter terms,
his proper indignation at the manner in which the mob of London welcomed
the French general who brought the ratification saying, “that they made
him ashamed of his country.”

He had purchased a house and estate at Merton, in Surrey, meaning to pass
his days there in the society of Sir William and Lady Hamilton. He had
indulged in pleasant dreams when looking on to this as his place of
residence and rest. “To be sure,” he says, “we shall employ the
tradespeople of our village in preference to any others in what we want
for common use, and give them every encouragement to be kind and attentive
to us.” “Have we a nice church at Merton? We will set an example of
goodness to the under-parishioners. I admire the pigs and poultry. Sheep
are certainly most beneficial to eat off the grass. Do you get paid for
them, and take care that they are kept on the premises all night, for that
is the time they do good to the land. They should be folded. Is your
head-man a good person, and true to our interest? I intend to have a
farming-book. I expect that all animals will increase where you are, for I
never expect that you will suffer any to be killed. No person can take
amiss our not visiting. The answer from me will always be very civil
thanks, but that I wish to live retired. We shall have our sea-friends;
and I know Sir William thinks they are the best.” This place he had never
seen till he was now welcomed there by the friends to whom he had so
passionately devoted himself, and who were not less sincerely attached to
him. The place, and everything which Lady Hamilton had done to it,
delighted him; and he declared that the longest liver should possess it
all. Here he amused himself with angling in the Wandle, having been a good
fly-fisher in former days, and learning now to practise with his left hand
what he could no longer pursue as a solitary diversion. His pensions for
his victories, and for the loss of his eye and arm, amounted with his
half-pay to about L3400 a-year. From this he gave L1800 to Lady Nelson,
L200 to a brother’s widow, and L150 for the education of his children; and
he paid L500 interest for borrowed money; so that Nelson was comparatively
a poor man; and though much of the pecuniary embarrassment which he
endured was occasioned by the separation from his wife—even if that
cause had not existed, his income would not have been sufficient for the
rank which he held, and the claims which would necessarily be made upon
his bounty. The depression of spirits under which he had long laboured
arose partly from this state of his circumstances, and partly from the
other disquietudes in which his connection with Lady Hamilton had involved
him—a connection which it was not possible his father could behold
without sorrow and displeasure. Mr. Nelson, however, was soon persuaded
that the attachment, which Lady Nelson regarded with natural jealousy and
resentment, did not in reality pass the bounds of ardent and romantic
admiration: a passion which the manners and accomplishments of Lady
Hamilton, fascinating as they were, would not have been able to excite, if
they had not been accompanied by more uncommon intellectual endowments,
and by a character which, both in its strength and in its weakness,
resembled his own. It did not, therefore, require much explanation to
reconcile him to his son—an event the more essential to Nelson’s
happiness, because, a few months afterwards, the good old man died at the
age of seventy-nine.

Soon after the conclusion of peace, tidings arrived of our final and
decisive successes in Egypt; in consequence of which, the common council
voted their thanks to the army and navy for bringing the campaign to so
glorious a conclusion. When Nelson, after the action of Cape St. Vincent,
had been entertained at a city feast, he had observed to the lord mayor,
“that, if the city continued its generosity, the navy would ruin them in
gifts.” To which the lord mayor replied, putting his hand upon the
admiral’s shoulder: “Do you find victories and we will find rewards.”
Nelson, as he said, had kept his word, had doubly fulfilled his part of
the contract, but no thanks had been voted for the battle of Copenhagen;
and feeling that he and his companions in that day’s glory had a fair and
honourable claim to this reward, he took the present opportunity of
addressing a letter to the lord mayor, complaining of the omission and the
injustice. “The smallest services,” said he, “rendered by the army or navy
to the country, have always been noticed by the great city of London with
one exception—the glorious 2nd of April—a day when the
greatest dangers of navigation were overcome; and the Danish force, which
they thought impregnable, totally taken or destroyed, by the consummate
skill of our commanders, and by the undaunted bravery of as gallant a band
as ever defended the rights of this country. For myself, if I were only
personally concerned, I should bear the stigma, attempted to be now first
placed upon my brow, with humility. But, my lord, I am the natural
guardian of the fame of all the officers of the navy, army, and marines
who fought, and so profusely bled, under my command on that day. Again I
disclaim for myself more merit than naturally falls to a successful
commander; but when I am called upon to speak of the merits of the
captains of his Majesty’s ships, and of the officers and men, whether
seamen, marines, or soldiers, whom I that day had the happiness to
command, I then say, that never was the glory of this country upheld with
more determined bravery than on that occasion: and if I may be allowed to
give an opinion as a Briton, then I say, that more important service was
never rendered to our king and country. It is my duty, my lord, to prove
to the brave fellows, my companions in danger, that I have not failed at
every proper place to represent, as well as I am able, their bravery and
meritorious conduct.”

Another honour, of greater import, was withheld from the conquerors. The
king had given medals to those captains who were engaged in the battles of
the 1st of June, of Cape St. Vincent, of Camperdown, and of the Nile. Then
came the victory at Copenhagen, which Nelson truly called the most
difficult achievement, the hardest-fought battle, the most glorious result
that ever graced the annals of our country. He, of course, expected the
medal; and in writing to Earl St. Vincent, said, “He longed to have it,
and would not give it up to be made an English duke.” The medal, however,
was not given:—”For what reason,” said Nelson, “Lord St. Vincent
best knows.” Words plainly implying a suspicion that it was withheld by
some feeling of jealousy; and that suspicion estranged him, during the
remaining period of his life, from one who had at one time been
essentially, as well as sincerely, his friend; and of whose professional
abilities he ever entertained the highest opinion.

The happiness which Nelson enjoyed in the society of his chosen friends
was of no long continuance. Sir William Hamilton, who was far advanced in
years, died early in 1803; a mild, amiable, and accomplished man, who has
thus in a letter described his own philosophy: “My study of antiquities,”
he says, “has kept me in constant thought of the perpetual fluctuation of
everything. The whole art is really to live all the DAYS of our life; and
not with anxious care disturb the sweetest hour that life affords—which
is the present. Admire the Creator, and all His works, to us
incomprehensible; and do all the good you can upon earth; and take the
chance of eternity without dismay.” He expired in his wife’s arms, holding
Nelson by the hand; and almost in his last words, left her to his
protection; requesting him that he would see justice done her by the
government, as he knew what she had done for her country. He left him her
portrait in enamel, calling him his dearest friend; the most virtuous,
loyal, and truly brave character he had ever known. The codicil,
containing this bequest, concluded with these words, “God bless him, and
shame fall on those who do not say amen.” Sir William’s pension of L1200 a
year ceased with his death. Nelson applied to Mr. Addington in Lady
Hamilton’s behalf, stating the important service which she had rendered to
the fleet at Syracuse; and Mr. Addington, it is said, acknowledged that
she had a just claim upon the gratitude of the country. This barren
acknowledgment was all that was obtained; but a sum, equal to the pension
which her husband had enjoyed, was settled on her by Nelson, and paid in
monthly payments during his life. A few weeks after this event, the war
was renewed; and the day after his Majesty’s message to Parliament, Nelson
departed to take the command of the Mediterranean fleet. The war he
thought, could not be long; just enough to make him independent in
pecuniary matters.

He took his station immediately off Toulon; and there, with incessant
vigilance, waited for the coming out of the enemy. The expectation of
acquiring a competent fortune did not last long. “Somehow,” he says, “my
mind is not sharp enough for prize-money. Lord Keith would have made
L20,000, and I have not made L6000.” More than once he says that the
prizes taken in the Mediterranean had not paid his expenses; and once he
expresses himself as if it were a consolation to think that some ball
might soon close all his accounts with this world of care and vexation. At
this time the widow of his brother, being then blind and advanced in
years, was distressed for money, and about to sell her plate; he wrote to
Lady Hamilton, requesting of her to find out what her debts were, and
saying that, if the amount was within his power, he would certainly pay
it, and rather pinch himself than that she should want. Before he had
finished the letter, an account arrived that a sum was payable to him for
some neutral taken four years before, which enabled him to do this without
being the poorer; and he seems to have felt at the moment that what was
thus disposed of by a cheerful giver, shall be paid to him again. One from
whom he had looked for very different conduct, had compared his own
wealth, in no becoming manner, with Nelson’s limited means. “I know,” said
he to Lady Hamilton, “the full extent of the obligation I owe him, and he
may be useful to me again; but I can never forget his unkindness to you.
But, I guess many reasons influenced his conduct in bragging of his riches
and my honourable poverty; but, as I have often said, and with honest
pride, what I have is my own: it never cost the widow a tear, or the
nation a farthing. I got what I have with my pure blood, from the enemies
of my country. Our house, my own Emma, is built upon a solid foundation;
and will last to us, when his houses and lands may belong to others than
his children.”

His hope was that peace might soon be made, or that he should be relieved
from his command, and retire to Merton, where at that distance he was
planning and directing improvements. On his birthday he writes, “This day,
my dearest Emma, I consider as more fortunate than common days, as by my
coming into this world it has brought me so intimately acquainted with
you. I well know that you will keep it, and have my dear Horatio to drink
my health. Forty-six years of toil and trouble! How few more the common
lot of mankind leads us to expect! and therefore it is almost time to
think of spending the few last years in peace and quietness.” It is
painful to think that this language was not addressed to his wife, but to
one with whom he promised himself “many many happy years, when that
impediment,” as he calls her, “shall be removed, if God pleased; and they
might be surrounded by their children’s children.”

When he had been fourteen months off Toulon, he received a vote of thanks
from the city of London for his skill and perseverance in blockading that
port, so as to prevent the French from putting to sea. Nelson had not
forgotten the wrong which the city had done to the Baltic fleet by their
omission, and did not lose the opportunity which this vote afforded of
recurring to that point. “I do assure your lordship,” said he, in his
answer to the lord mayor, “that there is not that man breathing who sets a
higher value upon the thanks of his fellow-citizens of London than myself;
but I should feel as much ashamed to receive them for a particular service
marked in the resolution, if I felt that I did not come within that line
of service, as I should feel hurt at having a great victory passed over
without notice. I beg to inform your lordship, that the port of Toulon has
never been blockaded by me; quite the reverse. Every opportunity has been
offered the enemy to put to sea; for it is there that we hope to realise
the hopes and expectations of our country.” Nelson then remarked that the
junior flag-officers of his fleet had been omitted in this vote of thanks;
and his surprise at the omission was expressed with more asperity,
perhaps, than an offence so entirely and manifestly unintentional
deserved; but it arose from that generous regard for the feelings as well
as the interests of all who were under his command, which made him as much
beloved in the fleets of Britain as he was dreaded in those of the enemy.

Never was any commander more beloved. He governed men by their reason and
their affections; they knew that he was incapable of caprice or tyranny
and they obeyed him with alacrity and joy, because he possessed their
confidence as well as their love. “Our Nel,” they used to say, “is as
brave as a lion and as gentle as a lamb.” Severe discipline he detested,
though he had been bred in a severe school. He never inflicted corporal
punishment if it were possible to avoid it; and when compelled to enforce
it, he, who was familiar with wounds and death, suffered like a woman. In
his whole life, Nelson was never known to act unkindly towards an officer.
If he was asked to prosecute one for ill behaviour, he used to answer,
“That there was no occasion for him to ruin a poor devil who was
sufficiently his own enemy to ruin himself.” But in Nelson there was more
than the easiness and humanity of a happy nature: he did not merely
abstain from injury; his was an active and watchful benevolence, ever
desirous not only to render justice, but to do good. During the peace he
had spoken in parliament upon the abuses respecting prize-money, and had
submitted plans to government for more easily manning the navy, and
preventing desertion from it, by bettering the condition of the seamen. He
proposed that their certificates should be registered, and that every man
who had served, with a good character, five years in war, should receive a
bounty of two guineas annually after that time, and of four guineas after
eight years. “This,” he said, “might, at first sight, appear an enormous
sum for the state to pay; but the average life of seamen is, from hard
service, finished at forty-five. He cannot, therefore, enjoy the annuity
many years, and the interest of the money saved by their not deserting
would go far to pay the whole expense.”

To his midshipmen he ever showed the most winning kindness, encouraging
the diffident, tempering the hasty, counselling and befriending both.
“Recollect,” he used to say, “that you must be a seaman to be an officer;
and also that you cannot be a good officer without being a gentleman.” A
lieutenant wrote to him to say that he was dissatisfied with his captain.
Nelson’s answer was in that spirit of perfect wisdom and perfect goodness
which regulated his whole conduct towards those who were under his
command. “I have just received your letter, and am truly sorry that any
difference should arise between your captain, who has the reputation of
being one of the bright officers of the service, and yourself, a very
young man, and a very young officer, who must naturally have much to
learn; therefore the chance is that you are perfectly wrong in the
disagreement. However, as your present situation must be very
disagreeable, I will certainly take an early opportunity of removing you,
provided your conduct to your present captain be such that another may not
refuse to receive you.” The gentleness and benignity of his disposition
never made him forget what was due to discipline. Being on one occasion
applied to, to save a young officer from a court-martial, which he had
provoked by his misconduct, his reply was, “That he would do everything in
his power to oblige so gallant and good an officer as Sir John Warren,” in
whose name the intercession had been made. “But what,” he added, “would he
do if he were here? Exactly what I have done, and am still willing to do.
The young man must write such a letter of contrition as would be an
acknowledgment of his great fault; and with a sincere promise, if his
captain will intercede to prevent the impending court-martial, never to so
misbehave again. On his captain’s enclosing me such a letter, with a
request to cancel the order for the trial, I might be induced to do it;
but the letters and reprimand will be given in the public order-book of
the fleet, and read to all the officers. The young man has pushed himself
forward to notice, and he must take the consequence. It was upon the
quarter-deck, in the face of the ship’s company, that he treated his
captain with contempt; and I am in duty bound to support the authority and
consequence of every officer under my command. A poor ignorant seaman is
for ever punished for contempt to HIS superiors.”

A dispute occurred in the fleet while it was off Toulon, which called
forth Nelson’s zeal for the rights and interests of the navy. Some young
artillery officers, serving on board the bomb vessels, refused to let
their men perform any other duty but what related to the mortars. They
wished to have it established that their corps was not subject to the
captain’s authority. The same pretensions were made in the Channel fleet
about the same time, and the artillery rested their claims to separate and
independent authority on board, upon a clause in the act, which they
interpreted in their favour. Nelson took up the subject with all the
earnestness which its importance deserved. “There is no real happiness in
this world,” said he, writing to Earl St. Vincent, as first lord. “With
all content and smiles around me, up start these artillery boys (I
understand they are not beyond that age), and set us at defiance; speaking
in the most disrespectful manner of the navy and its commanders. I know
you, my dear lord, so well, that with your quickness the matter would have
been settled, and perhaps some of them been broke. I am perhaps more
patient, but I do assure you not less resolved, if my plan of conciliation
is not attended to. You and I are on the eve of quitting the theatre of
our exploits; but we hold it due to our successors never, whilst we have a
tongue to speak or a hand to write, to allow the navy to be in the
smallest degree injured in its discipline by our conduct.” To Troubridge
he wrote in the same spirit: “It is the old history, trying to do away the
act of parliament; but I trust they will never succeed; for when they do,
farewell to our naval superiority. We should be prettily commanded! Let
them once gain the step of being independent of the navy on board a ship,
and they will soon have the other, and command us. But, thank God! my dear
Troubridge, the king himself cannot do away the act of parliament.
Although my career is nearly run, yet it would embitter my future days,
and expiring moments, to hear of our navy being sacrificed to the army.”
As the surest way of preventing such disputes, he suggested that the navy
should have it’s own corps of artillery; and a corps of marine artillery
was accordingly established.

Instead of lessening the power of the commander, Nelson would have wished
to see it increased: it was absolutely necessary, he thought, that merit
should be rewarded at the moment, and that the officers of the fleet
should look up to the commander-in-chief for their reward. He himself was
never more happy than when he could promote those who were deserving of
promotion. Many were the services which he thus rendered unsolicited; and
frequently the officer, in whose behalf he had interested himself with the
Admiralty, did not know to whose friendly interference he was indebted for
his good fortune. He used to say, “I wish it to appear as a God-send.” The
love which he bore the navy made him promote the interests, and honour the
memory, of all who had added to its glories. “The near relations of
brother officers,” he said, “he considered as legacies to the service.”
Upon mention being made to him of a son of Rodney, by the Duke of
Clarence, his reply was: “I agree with your Royal Highness most entirely,
that the son of a Rodney ought to be the PROTEGE of every person in the
kingdom, and particularly of the sea-officers. Had I known that there had
been this claimant, some of my own lieutenants must have given way to such
a name, and he should have been placed in the VICTORY: she is full, and I
have twenty on my list; but, whatever numbers I have, the name of Rodney
must cut many of them out.” Such was the proper sense which Nelson felt of
what was due to splendid services and illustrious names. His feelings
toward the brave men who had served with him are shown by a note in his
diary, which was probably not intended for any other eye than his own:
“Nov. 7. I had the comfort of making an old AGAMEMNON, George Jones, a
gunner into the CHAMELEON brig.”

When Nelson took the command, it was expected that the Mediterranean would
be an active scene. Nelson well understood the character of the perfidious
Corsican, who was now sole tyrant of France; and knowing that he was as
ready to attack his friends as his enemies, knew, therefore, that nothing
could be more uncertain than the direction of the fleet from Toulon,
whenever it should put to sea. “It had as many destinations,” he said, “as
there were countries.” The momentous revolutions of the last ten years had
given him ample matter for reflection, as well as opportunities for
observation: the film was cleared from his eyes; and now, when the French
no longer went abroad with the cry of liberty and equality, he saw that
the oppression and misrule of the powers which had been opposed to them,
had been the main causes of their success, and that those causes would
still prepare the way before them. Even in Sicily, where, if it had been
possible longer to blind himself, Nelson would willingly have seen no
evil, he perceived that the people wished for a change, and acknowledged
that they had reason to wish for it. In Sardinia the same burden of
misgovernment was felt; and the people, like the Sicilians, were
impoverished by a government so utterly incompetent to perform its first
and most essential duties that it did not protect its own coasts from the
Barbary pirates. He would fain have had us purchase this island (the
finest in the Mediterranean) from its sovereign, who did not receive L5000
a year from it after its wretched establishment was paid. There was reason
to think that France was preparing to possess herself of this important
point, which afforded our fleet facilities for watching Toulon, not to be
obtained elsewhere. An expedition was preparing at Corsica for the
purpose; and all the Sardes, who had taken part with revolutionary France,
were ordered to assemble there. It was certain that if the attack were
made it would succeed. Nelson thought that the only means to prevent
Sardinia from becoming French was to make it English, and that half a
million would give the king a rich price, and England a cheap purchase. A
better, and therefore a wiser policy, would have been to exert our
influence in removing the abuses of the government, for foreign dominion
is always, in some degree, an evil and allegiance neither can nor ought to
be made a thing of bargain and sale. Sardinia, like Sicily and Corsica, is
large enough to form a separate state. Let us hope that these islands may
one day be made free and independent. Freedom and independence will bring
with them industry and prosperity; and wherever these are found, arts and
letters will flourish, and the improvement of the human race proceed.

The proposed attack was postponed. Views of wider ambition were opening
upon Buonaparte, who now almost undisguisedldy aspired to make himself
master of the continent of Europe; and Austria was preparing for another
struggle, to be conducted as weakly and terminated as miserably as the
former. Spain, too, was once more to be involved in war by the policy of
France: that perfidious government having in view the double object of
employing the Spanish resources against England, and exhausting them in
order to render Spain herself finally its prey. Nelson, who knew that
England and the Peninsula ought to be in alliance, for the common interest
of both, frequently expressed his hopes that Spain might resume her
natural rank among the nations. “We ought,” he said, “by mutual consent,
to be the very best friends, and both to be ever hostile to France.” But
he saw that Buonaparte was meditating the destruction of Spain; and that,
while the wretched court of Madrid professed to remain neutral, the
appearances of neutrality were scarcely preserved, An order of the year
1771, excluding British ships of war from the Spanish ports, was revived,
and put in force: while French privateers, from these very ports, annoyed
the British trade, carried their prizes in, and sold them even at
Barcelona. Nelson complained of this to the captain-general of Catalonia,
informing him that he claimed, for every British ship or squadron, the
right of lying, as long as it pleased, in the ports of Spain, while that
right was allowed to other powers. To the British Ambassador he said: “I
am ready to make large allowances for the miserable situation Spain has
placed herself in; but there is a certain line, beyond which I cannot
submit to be treated with disrespect. We have given up French vessels
taken within gunshot of the Spanish shore, and yet French vessels are
permitted to attack our ships from the Spanish shore. Your excellency may
assure the Spanish government that, in whatever place the Spaniards allow
the French to attack us, in that place I shall order the French to be
attacked.”

During this state of things, to which the weakness of Spain, and not her
will, consented, the enemy’s fleet did not venture to put to sea. Nelson
watched it with unremitting and almost unexampled perseverance. The
station off Toulon he called his home. “We are in the right fighting
trim,” said he: “let them come as soon as they please. I never saw a fleet
altogether so well officered and manned; would to God the ships were half
as good! The finest ones in the service would soon be destroyed by such
terrible weather. I know well enough that if I were to go into Malta I
should save the ships during this bad season; but if I am to watch the
French I must be at sea; and if at sea, must have bad weather; and if the
ships are not fit to stand bad weather, they are useless.” Then only he
was satisfied and at ease when he had the enemy in view. Mr. Elliot, our
minister at Naples, seems at this time to have proposed to send a
confidential Frenchman to him with information. “I should be very happy,”
he replied, “to receive authentic intelligence of the destination of the
French squadron, their route, and time of sailing. Anything short of this
is useless; and I assure your excellency, that I would not upon any
consideration have a Frenchman in the fleet, except as a prisoner. I put
no confidence in them. You think yours good; the queen thinks the same; I
believe they are all alike. Whatever information you can get me I shall be
very thankful for; but not a Frenchman comes here. Forgive me, but my
mother hated the French.”

M. Latouche Treville, who had commanded at Boulogne, commanded now at
Toulon. “He was sent for on purpose,” said Nelson, “as he BEAT ME at
Boulogne, to beat me again; but he seems very loath to try.” One day,
while the main body of our fleet was out of sight of land, Rear-Admiral
Campbell, reconnoitring with the CANOPUS, DONEGAL, and AMAZON, stood in
close to the port; and M. Latouche, taking advantage of a breeze which
sprung up, pushed out with four ships of the line and three heavy
frigates, and chased him about four leagues. The Frenchman, delighted at
having found himself in so novel a situation, published a boastful
account, affirming that he had given chase to the whole British fleet, and
that Nelson had fled before him! Nelson thought it due to the Admiralty to
send home a copy of the VICTORY’s log upon this occasion. “As for
himself,” he said, “if his character was not established by that time for
not being apt to run away, it was not worth his while to put the world
right.”—”If this fleet gets fairly up with M. Latouche,” said he to
one of his correspondents, “his letter, with all his ingenuity, must be
different from his last. We had fancied that we chased him into Toulon;
for, blind as I am, I could see his water line, when he clued his topsails
up, shutting in Sepet. But from the time of his meeting Captain Hawker in
the ISIS, I never heard of his acting otherwise than as a poltroon and a
liar. Contempt is the best mode of treating such a miscreant.” In spite,
however, of contempt, the impudence of this Frenchman half angered him. He
said to his brother: “You will have seen Latouche’s letter; how he chased
me and how I ran. I keep it; and if I take him, by God he shall eat it.”

Nelson, who used to say, that in sea affairs nothing is impossible, and
nothing improbable, feared the more that this Frenchman might get out and
elude his vigilance; because he was so especially desirous of catching
him, and administering to him his own lying letter in a sandwich. M.
Latouche, however, escaped him in another way. He died, according to the
French papers, in consequence of walking so often up to the signal-post
upon Sepet, to watch the British fleet. “I always pronounced that would be
his death,” said Nelson. “If he had come out and fought me, it would at
least have added ten years to my life.” The patience with which he had
watched Toulon, he spoke of, truly, as a perseverance at sea which had
never been surpassed. From May, 1803, to August, 1805, he himself went out
of his ship but three times; each of those times was upon the king’s
service, and neither time of absence exceeded an hour. In 1804 the SWIFT
cutter going out with despatches was taken, and all the despatches and
letters fell into the hands of the enemy. “A very pretty piece of work,”
says Nelson; “I am not surprised at the capture, but am very much so that
any despatches should be sent in a vessel with twenty-three men, not equal
to cope with any row-boat privateer. The loss of the HINDOSTAN was great
enough; but for importance it is lost in comparison to the probable
knowledge the enemy will obtain of our connexions with foreign countries.
Foreigners for ever say, and it is true, we dare not trust England: one
way or other we are sure to be committed.” In a subsequent letter he says,
speaking of the same capture: “I find, my dearest Emma, that your picture
is very much admired by the French Consul at Barcelona, and that he has
not sent it to be admired, which I am sure it would be, by Buonaparte.
They pretend that there were three pictures taken. I wish I had them; but
they are all gone as irretrievably as the despatches, unless we may read
them in a book, as we printed their correspondence from Egypt. But from us
what can they find out? That I love you most dearly, and hate the French
most damnably. Dr. Scott went to Barcelona to try to get the private
letters, but I fancy they are all gone to Paris. The Swedish and American
Consuls told him that the French Consul had your picture and read your
letters; and the Doctor thinks one of them, probably, read the letters. By
the master’s account of the cutter, I would not have trusted an old pair
of shoes in her. He tells me she did not sail, but was a good sea-boat. I
hope Mr. Marsden will not trust any more of my private letters in such a
conveyance: if they choose to trust the affairs of the public in such a
thing, I cannot help it.”

While he was on this station, the weather had been so unusually severe
that he said the Mediterranean seemed altered. It was his rule never to
contend with the gales; but either run to the southward to escape their
violence, or furl all the sails, and make the ships as easy as possible.
The men, though he said flesh and blood could hardly stand it, continued
in excellent health, which he ascribed, in great measure, to a plentiful
supply of lemons and onions. For himself, he thought he could only last
till the battle was over. One battle more it was his hope that he might
fight. “However,” said he, “whatever happens, I have run a glorious race.”
“A few months rest,” he says, “I must have very soon. If I am in my grave,
what are the mines of Peru to me? But to say the truth, I have no idea of
killing myself. I may, with care, live yet to do good service to the
state. My cough is very bad, and my side, where I was struck on the 14th
of February, is very much swelled: at times a lump as large as my fist,
brought on occasionally by violent coughing. But I hope and believe my
lungs are yet safe.” He was afraid of blindness and this was the only evil
which he could not contemplate without unhappiness. More alarming symptoms
he regarded with less apprehension, describing his own “shattered carcass”
as in the worst plight of any in the fleet; and he says, “I have felt the
blood gushing up the left side of my head; and, the moment it covers the
brain, I am fast asleep.” The fleet was in worse trim than the men; but
when he compared it with the enemy’s, it was with a right English feeling.
“The French fleet yesterday,” said he, in one of his letters, “was to
appearance in high feather, and as fine as paint could make them; but when
they may sail, or where they may go, I am very sorry to say is a secret I
am not acquainted with. Our weather-beaten ships, I have no fear, will
make their sides like a plum-pudding.” “Yesterday,” he says, on another
occasion, “a rear-admiral and seven sail of ships put their nose outside
the harbour. If they go on playing this game, some day we shall lay salt
on their tails.”

Hostilities at length commenced between Great Britain and Spain. That
country, whose miserable government made her subservient to France, was
once more destined to lavish her resources and her blood in furtherance of
the designs of a perfidious ally. The immediate occasion of the war was
the seizure of four treasure-ships by the English. The act was perfectly
justifiable, for those treasures were intended to furnish means for
France; but the circumstances which attended it were as unhappy as they
were unforeseen. Four frigates had been despatched to intercept them. They
met with an equal force. Resistance, therefore, became a point of honour
on the part of the Spaniards, and one of their ships soon blew up with all
on board. Had a stronger squadron been sent, this deplorable catastrophe
might have been spared: a catastrophe which excited not more indignation
in Spain than it did grief in those who were its unwilling instruments, in
the English government, and in the English people. On the 5th of October
this unhappy affair occurred, and Nelson was not apprised of it till the
twelfth of the ensuing month. He had, indeed, sufficient mortification at
the breaking out of this Spanish war; an event which, it might reasonably
have been supposed, would amply enrich the officers of the Mediterranean
fleet, and repay them for the severe and unremitting duty on which they
had been so long employed. But of this harvest they were deprived; for Sir
John Orde was sent with a small squadron, and a separate command, to
Cadiz. Nelson’s feelings were never wounded so deeply as now. “I had
thought,” said he, writing in the first flow and freshness of indignation;
“Fancied—but nay; it must have been a dream, an idle dream; yet I
confess it, I DID fancy that I had done my country service; and thus they
use me! And under what circumstances, and with what pointed aggravation?
Yet, if I know my own thoughts, it is not for myself, or on my own account
chiefly, that I feel the sting and the disappointment. No! it is for my
brave officers: for my noble minded friends and comrades. Such a gallant
set of fellows! Such a band of brothers! My heart swells at the thought of
them.”

War between Spain and England was now declared; and on the eighteenth of
January, the Toulon fleet, having the Spaniards to co-operate with them,
put to sea. Nelson was at anchor off the coast of Sardinia, where the
Madelena islands form one of the finest harbours in the world, when, at
three in the afternoon of the nineteenth, the ACTIVE and SEAHORSE frigates
brought this long-hoped-for intelligence. They had been close to the enemy
at ten on the preceding night, but lost sight of them in about four hours.
The fleet immediately unmoored and weighed, and at six in the evening ran
through the strait between Biche and Sardinia: a passage so narrow that
the ships could only pass one at a time, each following the stern-lights
of its leader. From the position of the enemy, when they were last seen,
it was inferred that they must be bound round the southern end of
Sardinia. Signal was made the next morning to prepare for battle. Bad
weather came on, baffling the one fleet in its object, and the other in
its pursuit. Nelson beat about the Sicilian seas for ten days, without
obtaining any other information of the enemy than that one of their ships
had put into Ajaccio, dismasted; and having seen that Sardinia, Naples,
and Sicily were safe, believing Egypt to be their destination, for Egypt
he ran. The disappointment and distress which he had experienced in his
former pursuits of the French through the same seas were now renewed; but
Nelson, while he endured these anxious and unhappy feelings, was still
consoled by the same confidence as on the former occasion—that,
though his judgment might be erroneous, under all circumstances he was
right in having formed it. “I have consulted no man,” said he to the
Admiralty; “therefore the whole blame of ignorance in forming my judgment
must rest with me. I would allow no man to take from me an atom of my
glory had I fallen in with the French fleet; nor do I desire any man to
partake any of the responsibility. All is mine, right or wrong.” Then
stating the grounds upon which he had proceeded, he added, “At this moment
of sorrow, I still feel that I have acted right.” In the same spirit he
said to Sir Alexander Ball: “When I call to remembrance all the
circumstances, I approve, if nobody else does, of my own conduct.”

Baffled thus, he bore up for Malta, and met intelligence from Naples that
the French, having been dispersed in a gale, had put back to Toulon. From
the same quarter he learned that a great number of saddles and muskets had
been embarked; and this confirmed him in his opinion that Egypt was their
destination. That they should have put him back in consequence of storms
which he had weathered, gave him a consoling sense of British superiority.
“These gentlemen,” said he, “are not accustomed to a Gulf of Lyons gale:
we have buffeted them for one-and-twenty months, and not carried away a
spar.” He, however, who had so often braved these gales, was now, though
not mastered by them, vexatiously thwarted and impeded; and on February
27th he was compelled to anchor in Pula Bay in the Gulf of Cagliari. From
the 21st of January the fleet had remained ready for battle, without a
bulk-head up night or day. He anchored here that he might not be driven to
leeward. As soon as the weather moderated he put to sea again; and after
again beating about against contrary winds, another gale drove him to
anchor in the Gulf of Palma on the 8th of March. This he made his
rendezvous: he knew that the French troops still remained embarked; and
wishing to lead them into a belief that he was stationed upon the Spanish
coast, he made his appearance off Barcelona with that intent. About the
end of the month he began to fear that the plan of the expedition was
abandoned; and sailing once more towards his old station off Toulon on the
4th of April, he met the PHOEBE, with news that Villeneuve had put to sea
on the last of March, with eleven ships of the line, seven frigates, and
two brigs. When last seen they were steering towards the coast of Africa.
Nelson first covered the channel between Sardinia and Barbary, so as to
satisfy himself that Villeneuve was not taking the same route for Egypt
which Gantheaume had taken before him, when he attempted to carry
reinforcements thither. Certain of this, he bore up on the 7th for
Palermo, lest the French should pass to the north of Corsica, and he
despatched cruisers in all directions. On the 11th he felt assured that
they were not gone down the Mediterranean; and sending off frigates to
Gibraltar, to Lisbon, and to Admiral Cornwallis, who commanded the
squadron off Brest, he endeavoured to get to the westward, beating against
westerly winds. After five days a neutral gave intelligence that the
French had been seen off Cape de Gatte on the 7th. It was soon after
ascertained that they had passed the Straits of Gibraltar on the day
following; and Nelson, knowing that they might already be half way to
Ireland or to Jamaica, exclaimed that he was miserable. One gleam of
comfort only came across him in the reflection, that his vigilance had
rendered it impossible for them to undertake any expedition in the
Mediterranean.

Eight days after this certain intelligence had been obtained, he described
his state of mind thus forcibly in writing to the governor of Malta: “My
good fortune, my dear Ball, seems flown away. I cannot get a fair wind, or
even a side-wind. Dead foul!—Dead foul! But my mind is fully made up
what to do when I leave the supposing there is no certain account of the
enemy’s destination. I believe this ill-luck will go near to kill me; but
as these are times for exertion, I must not be cast down, whatever I may
feel.” In spite of every exertion which could be made by all the zeal and
all the skill of British seamen, he did not get in sight of Gibraltar till
the 30th of April; and the wind was then so adverse that it was impossible
to pass the Gut. He anchored in Mazari Bay, on the Barbary shore; obtained
supplies from Tetuan; and when, on the 5th, a breeze from the eastward
sprang up at last, sailed once more, hoping to hear of the enemy from Sir
John Orde, who commanded off Cadiz, or from Lisbon. “If nothing is heard
of them,” said he to the Admiralty, “I shall probably think the rumours
which have been spread are true, that their object is the West Indies;
and, in that case, I think it my duty to follow them—or to the
Antipodes, should I believe that to be their destination.” At the time
when this resolution was taken, the physician of the fleet had ordered him
to return to England before the hot months.

Nelson had formed his judgment of their destination, and made up his mind
accordingly, when Donald Campbell, at that time an admiral in the
Portuguese service, the same person who had given important tidings to
Earl St. Vincent of the movements of that fleet from which he won his
title, a second time gave timely and momentous intelligence to the flag of
his country. He went on board the VICTORY, and communicated to Nelson his
certain knowledge that the combined Spanish and French fleets were bound
for the West Indies. Hitherto all things had favoured the enemy. While the
British commander was beating up again strong southerly and westerly
gales, they had wind to their wish from the N.E., and had done in nine
days what he was a whole month in accomplishing. Villeneuve, finding the
Spaniards at Carthagena were not in a fit state of equipment to join him,
dared not wait, but hastened on to Cadiz. Sir John Orde necessarily
retired at his approach. Admiral Gravina, with six Spanish ships of the
line and two French, come out to him, and they sailed without a moment’s
loss of time. They had about three thousand French troops on board, and
fifteen hundred Spanish: six hundred were under orders, expecting them at
Martinique, and one thousand at Guadaloupe. General Lauriston commanded
the troops. The combined fleet now consisted of eighteen sail of the line,
six forty-four gun frigates, one of twenty-six guns, three corvettes, and
a brig. They were joined afterwards by two new French line-of-battle
ships, and one forty-four. Nelson pursued them with ten sail of the line
and three frigates. “Take you a Frenchman apiece,” said he to his
captains, “and leave me the Spaniards: when I haul down my colours, I
expect you to do the same, and not till then.”

The enemy had five-and-thirty days’ start; but he calculated that he
should gain eight or ten days upon them by his exertions. May 15th he made
Madeira, and on June 4th reached Barbadoes, whither he had sent despatches
before him; and where he found Admiral Cochrane, with two ships, part of
our squadron in those seas being at Jamaica. He found here also accounts
that the combined fleets had been seen from St. Lucia on the 28th,
standing to the southward, and that Tobago and Trinidad were their
objects. This Nelson doubted; but he was alone in his opinion, and yielded
it with these foreboding words: “If your intelligence proves false, you
lose me the French fleet.” Sir W. Myers offered to embark here with 2000
troops; they were taken on board, and the next morning he sailed for
Tobago. Here accident confirmed the false intelligence which had, whether
from intention or error, misled him. A merchant at Tobago, in the general
alarm, not knowing whether this fleet was friend or foe, sent out a
schooner to reconnoitre, and acquaint him by signal. The signal which he
had chosen happened to be the very one which had been appointed by Col.
Shipley of the engineers to signify that the enemy were at Trinidad; and
as this was at the close of the day, there was no opportunity of
discovering the mistake. An American brig was met with about the same
time, the master of which, with that propensity to deceive the English and
assist the French in any manner which has been but too common among his
countrymen, affirmed that he had been boarded off Granada a few days
before by the French, who were standing towards the Bocas of Trinidad.
This fresh intelligence removed all doubts. The ships were cleared for
action before daylight, and Nelson entered the Bay of Paria on the 7th,
hoping and expecting to make the mouths of the Orinoco as famous in the
annals of the British navy as those of the Nile. Not an enemy was there;
and it was discovered that accident and artifice had combined to lead him
so far to leeward, that there could have been little hope of fetching to
windward of Granada for any other fleet. Nelson, however, with skill and
exertions never exceeded, and almost unexampled, bore for that island.

Advices met him on the way, that the combined fleets, having captured the
Diamond Rock, were then at Martinique on the fourth, and were expected to
sail that night for the attack of Granada. On the 9th Nelson arrived off
that island; and there learned that they had passed to leeward of Antigua
the preceding day, and had taken a homeward-bound convoy. Had it not been
for false information, upon which Nelson had acted reluctantly, and in
opposition to his own judgment, he would have been off Port Royal just as
they were leaving; it, and the battle would have been fought on the spot
where Rodney defeated De Grasse. This he remembered in his vexation; but
he had saved the colonies, and above 200 ships laden for Europe, which
would else have fallen into the enemy’s hands; and he had the satisfaction
of knowing that the mere terror of his name had effected this, and had put
to flight the allied enemies, whose force nearly doubled that before which
they fled. That they were flying back to Europe he believed, and for
Europe he steered in pursuit on the 13th, having disembarked the troops at
Antigua, and taking with him the SPARTIATE, seventy-four; the only
addition to the squadron with which he was pursuing so superior a force.
Five days afterwards the AMAZON brought intelligence that she had spoke a
schooner who had seen them on the evening of the 15th, steering to the
north; and by computation, eighty-seven leagues off. Nelson’s diary at
this time denotes his great anxiety and his perpetual and all-observing
vigilance. “June 21. Midnight, nearly calm, saw three planks, which I
think came from the French fleet. Very miserable, which is very foolish.”
On the 17th of July he came in sight of Cape St. Vincent, and steered for
Gibraltar. “June 18th,” his diary says, “Cape Spartel in sight, but no
French fleet, nor any information about them. How sorrowful this makes me!
but I cannot help myself.” The next day he anchored at Gibraltar; and on
the 20th, says he, “I went on shore for the first time since June 16,
1803; and from having my foot out of the VICTORY two years, wanting ten
days.”

Here he communicated with his old friend Collingwood; who, having been
detached with a squadron, when the disappearance of the combined fleets,
and of Nelson in their pursuit, was known in England, had taken his
station off Cadiz. He thought that Ireland was the enemy’s ultimate
object; that they would now liberate the Ferrol squadron, which was
blocked up by Sir Robert Calder, call for the Rochefort ships, and then
appear off Ushant with 33 or 34 sail; there to be joined: by the Brest
fleet. With this great force he supposed they would make for Ireland—the
real mark and bent of all their operations; and their flight to the West
Indies, he thought, had been merely undertaken to take off Nelson’s force,
which was the great impediment to their undertaking.

Collingwood was gifted with great political penetration. As yet, however,
all was conjecture concerning the enemy; and Nelson, having victualled and
watered at Tetuan, stood for Ceuta on the 24th, still without information
of their course. Next day intelligence arrived that the CURIEUX brig had
seen them on the 19th, standing to the northward. He proceeded off Cape
St. Vincent, rather cruising for intelligence than knowing whither to
betake himself; and here a case occurred that more than any other event in
real history resembles those whimsical proofs of sagacity which Voltaire,
in his Zadig, has borrowed from the Orientals. One of our frigates spoke
an American, who, a little to the westward of the Azores, had fallen in
with an armed vessel, appearing to be a dismasted privateer, deserted by
her crew, which had been run on board by another ship, and had been set
fire to; but the fire had gone out. A log-book and a few seamen’s jackets
were found in the cabin; and these were brought to Nelson. The log-book
closed with these words: “Two large vessels in the W.N.W.:” and this led
him to conclude that the vessel had been an English privateer, cruising
off the Western Islands. But there was in this book a scrap of dirty
paper, filled with figures. Nelson, immediately upon seeing it, observed
that the figures were written by a Frenchman; and after studying this for
a while, said, “I can explain the whole. The jackets are of French
manufacture, and prove that the privateer was in possession of the enemy.
She had been chased and taken by the two ships that were seen in the
W.N.W. The prizemaster, going on board in a hurry, forgot to take with him
his reckoning: there is none in the log-book; and the dirty paper contains
her work for the number of days since the privateer last left Corvo; with
an unaccounted-for run, which I take to have been the chase, in his
endeavour to find out her situation by back reckonings. By some
mismanagement, I conclude she was run on board of by one of the enemy’s
ships, and dismasted. Not liking delay (for I am satisfied that those two
ships were the advanced ones of the French squadron), and fancying we were
close at their heels, they set fire to the vessel, and abandoned her in a
hurry. If this explanation be correct, I infer from it that they are gone
more to the northward; and more to the northward I will look for them.”
This course accordingly he held, but still without success. Still
persevering, and still disappointed, he returned near enough to Cadiz to
ascertain that they were not there; traversed the Bay of Biscay; and then,
as a last hope, stood over for the north-west coast of Ireland against
adverse winds, till, on the evening of the 12th of August, he learned that
they had not been heard of there. Frustrated thus in all his hopes, after
a pursuit, to which, for its extent, rapidity, and perseverance, no
parallel can be produced, he judged it best to reinforce the Channel fleet
with his squadron, lest the enemy, as Collingwood apprehended, should bear
down upon Brest with their whole collected force. On the 15th he joined
Admiral Cornwallis off Ushant. No news had yet been obtained of the enemy;
and on the same evening he received orders to proceed, with the VICTORY
and SUPERB, to Portsmouth.

CHAPTER IX

1805

Sir Robert Calder falls in with the combined Fleets—They form a
Junction with the Ferrol Squadron, and get into Cadiz—Nelson is
reappointed to the Command—Battle of Trafalgar—Victory, and
Death of Nelson.

At Portsmouth, Nelson at length found news of the combined fleet. Sir
Robert Calder, who had been sent out to intercept their return, had fallen
in with them on the 22nd of July, sixty leagues off Cape Finisterre. Their
force consisted of twenty sail of the line, three fifty-gun ships, five
frigates, and two brigs: his, of fifteen line-of-battle ships, two
frigates, a cutter, and a lugger. After an action of four hours he had
captured an eighty-four and a seventy-four, and then thought it necessary
to bring-to the squadron, for the purpose of securing their prizes. The
hostile fleets remained in sight of each other till the 26th, when the
enemy bore away. The capture of two ships from so superior a force would
have been considered as no inconsiderable victory, a few years earlier;
but Nelson had introduced a new era in our naval history; and the nation
felt respecting this action as he had felt on a somewhat similar occasion.
They regretted that Nelson, with his eleven ships, had not been in Sir
Robert Calder’s place; and their disappointment was generally and loudly
expressed.

Frustrated as his own hopes had been, Nelson had yet the high satisfaction
of knowing that his judgment had never been more conspicuously approved,
and that he had rendered essential service to his country, by driving the
enemy from those Islands where they expected there could be no force
capable of opposing them. The West India merchants in London, as men whose
interests were more immediately benefited, appointed a deputation to
express their thanks for his great and judicious exertions. It was now his
intention to rest awhile from his labours, and recruit himself, after all
his fatigues and cares, in the society of those whom he loved. All his
stores were brought up from the VICTORY; and he found in his house at
Merton the enjoyment which he had anticipated. Many days had not elapsed
before Captain Blackwood, on his way to London with despatches, called on
him at five in the morning. Nelson, who was already dressed, exclaimed,
the moment he saw him: “I am sure you bring me news of the French and
Spanish fleets! I think I shall yet have to beat them!” They had refitted
at Vigo, after the indecisive action with Sir Robert Calder; then
proceeded to Ferrol, brought out the squadron from thence, and with it
entered Cadiz in safety. “Depend on it, Blackwood:” he repeatedly said, “I
shall yet give M. Villeneuve a drubbing.” But when Blackwood had left him,
he wanted resolution to declare his wishes to Lady Hamilton and his
sisters, and endeavoured to drive away the thought. He had done enough, he
said: “Let the man trudge it who has lost his budget!” His countenance
belied his lips; and as he was pacing one of the walks in the garden,
which he used to call the quarter-deck, Lady Hamilton came up to him, and
told him she saw he was uneasy. He smiled, and said: “No, he was as happy
as possible; he was surrounded by his family, his health was better since
he had been an shore, and he would not give sixpence to call the king his
uncle.” She replied, that she did not believe him, that she knew that he
was longing to get at the combined fleets, that he considered them as his
own property, that he would be miserable if any man but himself did the
business; and that he ought to have them, as the price and reward of his
two years’ long watching, and his hard chase. “Nelson,” said she, “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.” He looked at her with tears
in his eyes: “Brave Emma! Good Emma! If there were more Emmas there would
be more Nelsons.”

His services were as willingly accepted as they were offered; and Lord
Barham, giving him the list of the navy, desired him to choose his own
officers. “Choose yourself, my lord,” was his reply: “the same spirit
actuates the whole profession: you cannot choose wrong.” Lord Barham then
desired him to say what ships, and how many, he would wish, in addition to
the fleet which he was going to command, and said they should follow him
as soon as each was ready. No appointment was ever more in unison with the
feelings and judgment of the whole nation. They, like Lady Hamilton,
thought that the destruction of the combined fleets ought properly to be
Nelson’s work; that he who had been

ought to reap the spoils of the chase which he had watched so long, and so
perseveringly pursued.

Unremitting exertions were made to equip the ships which he had chosen,
and especially to refit the VICTORY, which was once more to bear his flag.
Before he left London he called at his upholsterer’s, where the coffin
which Captain Hallowell had given him was deposited; and desired that its
history might be engraven upon the lid, saying that it was highly probable
he might want it on his return. He seemed, indeed, to have been impressed
with an expectation that he should fall in the battle. In a letter to his
brother, written immediately after his return, he had said: “We must not
talk of Sir Robert Calder’s battle—I might not have done so much
with my small force. If I had fallen in with them, you might probably have
been a lord before I wished; for I know they meant to make a dead set at
the VICTORY.” Nelson had once regarded the prospect of death with gloomy
satisfaction: it was when he anticipated the upbraidings of his wife, and
the displeasure of his venerable father. The state of his feelings now was
expressed in his private journal in these words: “Friday night (Sept. 13),
at half-past ten, I drove from dear, dear Merton; where I left all which I
hold dear in this world, to go and serve my king and country. 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 whom I may
leave behind! His will be done. Amen! Amen! Amen!”

Early on the following morning he reached Portsmouth; and having
despatched his business on shore, endeavoured to elude the populace by
taking a by-way to the beach; but a crowd collected in his train, pressing
forward to obtain a sight of his face: many were in tears, and many knelt
down before him and blessed him as he passed. England has had many heroes;
but never one who so entirely possessed the love of his fellow-countrymen
as Nelson. All men knew that his heart was as humane as it was fearless;
that there was not in his nature the slightest alloy of selfishness or
cupidity; but that with perfect and entire devotion he served his country
with all his heart, and with all his soul, and with all his strength; and,
therefore, they loved him as truly and as fervently as he loved England.
They pressed upon the parapet to gaze after him when his barge pushed off,
and he was returning their cheers by waving his hat. The sentinels, who
endeavoured to prevent them from trespassing upon this ground, were wedged
among the crowd; and an officer who, not very prudently upon such an
occasion, ordered them to drive the people down with their bayonets, was
compelled speedily to retreat; for the people would not be debarred from
gazing till the last moment upon the hero—the darling hero of
England!

He arrived off Cadiz on the 29th of September—his birthday. Fearing
that if the enemy knew his force they might be deterred from venturing to
sea, he kept out of sight of land, desired Collingwood to fire no salute
and hoist no colours, and wrote to Gibraltar to request that the force of
the fleet might not be inserted there in the GAZETTE. His reception in the
Mediterranean fleet was as gratifying as the farewell of his countrymen at
Portsmouth: the officers who came on board to welcome him forgot his rank
as commander in their joy at seeing him again. On the day of his arrival,
Villeneuve received orders to put to sea the first opportunity.
Villeneuve, however, hesitated when he heard that Nelson had resumed the
command. He called a council of war; and their determination was, that it
would not be expedient to leave Cadiz, unless they had reason to believe
themselves stronger by one-third than the British force. In the public
measures of this country secrecy is seldom practicable, and seldomer
attempted: here, however, by the precautions of Nelson and the wise
measures of the Admiralty, the enemy were for once kept in ignorance; for
as the ships appointed to reinforce the Mediterranean fleet were
despatched singly, each as soon as it was ready, their collected number
was not stated in the newspapers, and their arrival was not known to the
enemy. But the enemy knew that Admiral Louis, with six sail, had been
detached for stores and water to Gibraltar. Accident also contributed to
make the French admiral doubt whether Nelson himself had actually taken
the command. An American, lately arrived from England, maintained that it
was impossible, for he had seen him only a few days before in London, and
at that time there was no rumour of his going again to sea.

The station which Nelson had chosen was some fifty or sixty miles to the
west of Cadiz, near Cape St. Marys. At this distance, he hoped to decoy
the enemy out while he guarded against the danger of being caught with a
westerly wind near Cadiz and driven within the Straits. The blockade of
the port was rigorously enforced, in hopes that the combined fleet might
be forced to sea by want. The Danish vessels, therefore, which were
carrying provisions from the French ports in the bay, under the name of
Danish property, to all the little ports from Ayamonte to Algeziras, from
whence they were conveyed in coasting boats to Cadiz, were seized. Without
this proper exertion of power, the blockade would have been rendered
nugatory by the advantage thus taken of the neutral flag. The supplies
from France were thus effectually cut off. There was now every indication
that the enemy would speedily venture out: officers and men were in the
highest spirits at the prospects of giving them a decisive blow; such,
indeed, as would put an end to all further contest upon the seas.
Theatrical amusements were performed every evening in most of the ships;
and God save the King was the hymn with which the sports concluded. “I
verily believe,” said Nelson (writing on the 6th of October), “that the
country will soon be put to some expense on my account; either a monument,
or a new pension and honours; for I have not the smallest doubt but that a
very few days, almost hours, will put us in battle. The success no man can
ensure; but for the fighting them, if they can be got at, I pledge myself.
The sooner the better: I don’t like to have these things upon my mind.”

At this time he was not without some cause of anxiety: he was in want of
frigates, and the eyes of the fleet, as he always called them; to the want
of which the enemy before were indebted for their escape, and Buonaparte
for his arrival in Egypt. He had only twenty-three ships; others were on
the way, but they might come too late; and though Nelson never doubted of
victory, mere victory was not what he looked to; he wanted to annihilate
the enemy’s fleet. The Carthagena squadron might effect a junction with
this fleet on the one side; and on the other it was to be expected that a
similar attempt would be made by the French from Brest; in either case a
formidable contingency to be apprehended by the blockading force. The
Rochefort squadron did push out, and had nearly caught the AGAMEMNON and
L’AIMABLE in their way to reinforce the British admiral. Yet Nelson at
this time weakened his own fleet. He had the unpleasant task to perform of
sending home Sir Robert Calder, whose conduct was to be made the subject
of a court-martial, in consequence of the general dissatisfaction which
had been felt and expressed at his imperfect victory. Sir Robert Calder
and Sir John Orde, Nelson believed to be the only two enemies whom he had
ever had in his profession; and from that sensitive delicacy which
distinguished him, this made him the more scrupulously anxious to show
every possible mark of respect and kindness to Sir Robert. He wished to
detain him till after the expected action, when the services which he
might perform, and the triumphant joy which would be excited, would leave
nothing to be apprehended from an inquiry into the previous engagement.
Sir Robert, however, whose situation was very painful, did not choose to
delay a trial from the result of which he confidently expected a complete
justification; and Nelson, instead of sending him home in a frigate,
insisted on his returning in his own ninety-gun ship—ill as such a
ship could at that time be spared. Nothing could be more honourable than
the feeling by which Nelson was influenced; but, at such a crisis, it
ought not to have been indulged.

On the 9th Nelson sent Collingwood what he called, in his diary, the
Nelson-touch. “I send you,” said he, “my plan of attack, as far as a man
dare venture to guess at the very uncertain position the enemy may be
found in; but it is to place you perfectly at ease respecting my
intentions, and to give full scope to your judgment for carrying them into
effect. We can, my dear Coll, have no little jealousies. We have only one
great object in view, that of annihilating our enemies, and getting a
glorious peace for our country. No man has more confidence in another than
I have in you; and no man will render your services more justice than your
very old friend Nelson and Bronte.” The order of sailing was to be the
order of battle: the fleet in two lines, with an advanced squadron of
eight of the fastest-sailing two-deckers. The second in command, having
the entire direction of his line, was to break through the enemy, about
the twelfth ship from their rear: he would lead through the centre, and
the advanced squadron was to cut off three or four ahead of the centre.
This plan was to be adapted to the strength of the enemy, so that they
should always be one-fourth superior to those whom they cut off. Nelson
said, “That his admirals and captains, knowing his precise object to be
that of a close and decisive action, would supply any deficiency of
signals, and act accordingly. In case signals cannot be seen or clearly
understood, no captain can do wrong if he places his ship alongside that
of an enemy.” One of the last orders of this admirable man was, that the
name and family of every officer, seaman, and marine, who might be killed
or wounded in action, should be, as soon as possible, returned to him, in
order to be transmitted to the chairman of the Patriotic Fund, that the
case might be taken into consideration for the benefit of the sufferer or
his family.

About half-past nine in the morning of the 19th, the MARS, being the
nearest to the fleet of the ships which formed the line of communication
with the frigates inshore, repeated the signal that the enemy were coming
out of port. The wind was at this time very light, with partial breezes,
mostly from the S.S.W. Nelson ordered the signal to be made for a chase in
the south-east quarter. About two, the repeating ships announced that the
enemy were at sea. All night the British fleet continued under all sail,
steering to the south-east. At daybreak they were in the entrance of the
Straits, but the enemy were not in sight. About seven one of the frigates
made signal that the enemy were bearing north. Upon this the VICTORY hove
to; and shortly afterwards Nelson made sail again to the northward. In the
afternoon-the wind blew fresh from the south-west, and the English began
to fear that the foe might be forced to return to port. A little before
sunset, however, Blackwood, in the EURYALUS, telegraphed that they
appeared determined to go to the westward, “And that,” said the admiral in
his diary, “they shall not do, if it is in the power of Nelson and Bronte
to prevent them.” Nelson had signified to Blackwood that he depended upon
him to keep sight of the enemy. They were observed so well that all their
motions were made known to him; and as they wore twice, he inferred that
they were aiming to keep the port of Cadiz open, and would retreat there
as soon as they saw the British fleet; for this reason he was very careful
not to approach near enough to be seen by them during the night. At
daybreak the combined fleets were distinctly seen from the VICTORY’s deck,
formed in a close line of battle ahead, on the starboard tack, about
twelve miles to leeward, and standing to the south. Our fleet consisted of
twenty-seven sail of the line and four frigates; theirs of thirty-three
and seven large frigates. Their superiority was greater in size and weight
of metal than in numbers. They had four thousand troops on board; and the
best riflemen who could be procured, many of them Tyrolese, were dispersed
through the ships. Little did the Tyrolese, and little did the Spaniards,
at that day, imagine what horrors the wicked tyrant whom they served was
preparing for their country.

Soon after daylight Nelson came upon deck. The 21st of October was a
festival in his family, because on that day his uncle, Captain Suckling,
in the DREADNOUGHT, with two other line-of-battle ships, had beaten off a
French squadron of four sail of the line and three frigates. Nelson, with
that sort of superstition from which few persons are entirely exempt, had
more than once expressed his persuasion that this was to be the day of his
battle also; and he was well pleased at seeing his prediction about to be
verified. The wind was now from the west, light breezes, with a long heavy
swell. Signal was made to bear down upon the enemy in two lines; and the
fleet set all sail. Collingwood, in the ROYAL SOVEREIGN, led the leeline
of thirteen ships; the VICTORY led the weather line of fourteen. Having
seen that all was as it should be, Nelson retired to his cabin, and wrote
the following prayer:—

“May the great GOD whom I worship, grant to my country, and for the
benefit of Europe in general, a great and glorious victory, and may no
misconduct in any one tarnish it; and may humanity after victory be the
predominant feature in the British fleet! For myself individually, I
commit my life to Him that made me; and may His blessing alight on my
endeavours for serving my country faithfully! To Him I resign myself, and
the just cause which is entrusted to me to defend. Amen! Amen! Amen!”

Having thus discharged his devotional duties, he annexed, in the same
diary, the following remarkable writing:—

OCTOBER 21, 1805.—. THEN IN SIGHT OF THE COMBINED FLEETS OF FRANCE
AND SPAIN, DISTANT ABOUT TEN MILES.

“Whereas the eminent services of Emma Hamilton, widow of the Right Hon.
Sir W. Hamilton, have been of the very greatest service to my king and
country, to my knowledge, without ever receiving any reward from either
our king or country.

1. That she obtained the King of Spain’s letter, in 1796, to his brother,
the King of Naples, acquainting him of his intention to declare war
against England from which letter the ministry sent out orders to the then
Sir John Jervis to strike a stroke, if opportunity offered, against either
the arsenals of Spain or her fleets. That neither of these was done is not
the fault of Lady Hamilton; the opportunity might have been offered.

2. The British fleet under my command could never have returned the second
time to Egypt, had not Lady Hamilton’s influence with the Queen of Naples
caused letters to be wrote to the governor of Syracuse that he was to
encourage the fleet’s being supplied with everything, should they put into
any port in Sicily. We put into Syracuse, and received every supply; went
to Egypt and destroyed the French fleet.

“Could I have rewarded these services, I would not now call upon my
country; but as that has not been in my power, I leave Emma Lady Hamilton
therefore a legacy to my king and country, that they will give her an
ample provision to maintain her rank in life.

“I also leave to the beneficence of my country my adopted daughter,
Horatia Nelson Thompson; and I desire she will use in future the name of
Nelson only.

“These are the only favours I ask of my king and country, at this moment,
when I am going to fight their battle. May God bless my king and country,
and all those I hold dear! My relations it is needless to mention; they
will of course be amply provided for.

“NELSON AND BRONTE.

The child of whom this writing Speaks was believed to be his daughter, and
so, indeed, he called her the last time he pronounced her name. She was
then about five years old, living at Merton, under Lady Hamilton’s care.
The last minutes which Nelson passed at Merton were employed in praying
over this child, as she lay sleeping. A portrait of Lady Hamilton hung in
his cabin; and no Catholic ever beheld the picture of his patron saint
with devouter reverence. The undisguised and romantic passion with which
he regarded it amounted almost to superstition; and when the portrait was
now taken down in clearing for action, he desired the men who removed it
to “take care of his guardian angel.” In this manner he frequently spoke
of it, as if he believed there were a virtue in the image. He wore a
miniature of her, also, next his heart.

Blackwood went on board the VICTORY about six. He found him in good
spirits, but very calm; not in that exhilaration which he had felt upon
entering into battle at Aboukir and Copenhagen: he knew that his own life
would be particularly aimed at, and seems to have looked for death with
almost as sure an expectation as for victory. His whole attention was
fixed upon the enemy. They tacked to the northward, and formed their line
on the larboard tack; thus bringing the shoals of Trafalgar and St. Pedro
under the lee of the British, and keeping the port of Cadiz open for
themselves. This was judiciously done; and Nelson, aware of all the
advantages which it gave them made signal to prepare to anchor.

Villeneuve was a skilful seaman: worthy of serving a better master, and a
better cause. His plan of defence was as well conceived, and as original,
as the plan of attack. He formed the fleet in a double line; every
alternate ship being about a cable’s length to windward of her second
ahead and astern. Nelson, certain of a triumphant issue to the day, asked
Blackwood what he should consider as a victory. That officer answered,
that, considering the handsome way in which battle was offered by the
enemy, their apparent determination for a fair trial of strength, and the
situation of the land, he thought it would be a glorious result if
fourteen were captured. He replied: “I shall not be satisfied with less
than twenty.” Soon afterwards he asked him if he did not think there was a
signal wanting. Captain Blackwood made answer, that he thought the whole
fleet seemed very clearly to understand what they were about. These words
were scarcely spoken before that signal was made, which will be remembered
as long as the language, or even the memory, of England shall endure;
Nelson’s last signal:—”ENGLAND EXPECTS EVERY MAN TO DO HIS DUTY!” It
was received throughout the fleet with a shout of answering acclamation,
made sublime by the spirit which it breathed, and the feeling which it
expressed. “Now,” said Lord Nelson, “I can do no more. We must trust to
the great Disposer of all events, and the justice of our cause. I thank
God for this great opportunity of doing my duty.”

He wore that day, as usual, his admiral’s frock-coat, bearing on the left
breast four stars, of the different orders with which he was invested.
Ornaments which rendered him so conspicuous a mark for the enemy were
beheld with ominous apprehensions by his officers. It was known that there
were riflemen on board the French ships, and it could not be doubted but
that his life would be particularly aimed at. They communicated their
fears to each other; and the surgeon, Mr. Beatty, spoke to the chaplain
Dr. Scott, and to Mr. Scott the public secretary, desiring that some
person would entreat him to change his dress, or cover the stars; but they
knew that such a request would highly displease him. “In honour I gained
them,” he had said when such a thing had been hinted to him formerly, “and
in honour I will die with them.” Mr. Beatty, however, would not have been
deterred by any fear of exciting his displeasure from speaking to him
himself upon a subject in which the weal of England, as well as the life
of Nelson, was concerned; but he was ordered from the deck before he could
find an opportunity. This was a point upon which Nelson’s officers knew
that it was hopeless to remonstrate or reason with him; but both
Blackwood, and his own captain, Hardy, represented to him how advantageous
to the fleet it would be for him to keep out of action as long as
possible; and he consented at last to let the LEVIATHAN and the TEMERAIRE,
which were sailing abreast of the VICTORY, he ordered to pass ahead. Yet
even here the last infirmity of this noble mind was indulged, for these
ships could not pass ahead if the VICTORY continued to carry all her sail;
and so far was Nelson from shortening sail, that it was evident he took
pleasure in pressing on, and rendering it impossible for them to obey his
own orders. A long swell was setting into the bay of Cadiz: our ships,
crowding all sail, moved majestically before it, with light winds from the
south-west. The sun shone on the sails of the enemy; and their well-formed
line, with their numerous three-deckers, made an appearance which any
other assailants would have thought formidable; but the British sailors
only admired the beauty and the splendour of the spectacle; and in full
confidence of winning what they saw, remarked to each other what a fine
sight yonder ships would make at Spithead!

The French admiral, from the BUCENTAURE, beheld the new manner in which
his enemy was advancing—Nelson and Collingwood each leading his
line; and pointing them out; to his officers, he is said to have exclaimed
that such conduct could not fail to be successful. Yet Villeneuve had made
his own dispositions with the utmost skill and the fleets under his
command waited for the attack with perfect coolness. Ten minutes before
twelve they opened their fire. Eight or nine of the ships immediately
ahead of the VICTORY, and across her bows, fired single guns at her, to
ascertain whether she was yet within their range. As soon as Nelson
perceived that their shot passed over him, he desired Blackwood and
Captain Prowse, of the SIRIUS, to repair to their respective frigates;
and, on their way, to tell all the captains of the line-of-battle ships
that he depended on their exertions; and that if, by the prescribed mode
of attack, they found it impracticable to get into action immediately,
they might adopt whatever they thought best, provided it led them quickly
and closely alongside an enemy. As they were standing on the front of the
poop, Blackwood took him by the hand, saying, he hoped soon to return and
find him in possession of twenty prizes. He replied, “God bless you,
Blackwood; I shall never see you again.”

Nelson’s column was steered about two points more to the north than
Collingwood’s, in order to cut off the enemy’s escape into Cadiz: the lee
line, therefore, was first engaged. “See,” cried Nelson, pointing to the
ROYAL SOVEREIGN, as she steered right for the centre of the enemy’s line,
cut through it astern of the SANTA ANNA three-decker, and engaged her at
the muzzle of her guns on the starboard side—”see how that noble
fellow, Collingwood, carries his ship into action!” Collingwood, delighted
at being first in the heat of the fire, and knowing the feelings of his
commander and old friend, turned to his captain, and exclaimed:
“Rotherham, what would Nelson give to be here?” Both these brave officers,
perhaps, at this moment, thought of Nelson with gratitude, for a
circumstance which had occurred on the preceding day. Admiral Collingwood,
with some of the captains, having gone on board the VICTORY to receive
instructions, Nelson inquired of him where his captain was and was told,
in reply, that they were not upon good terms with each other. “Terms!”
said Nelson,—”good terms with each other!” Immediately he sent a
boat for Captain Rotherham; led him, as soon as he arrived, to
Collingwood; and saying, “Look; yonder are the enemy!” bade them shake
hands like Englishmen.

The enemy continued to fire a gun at a time at the VICTORY, till they saw
that a shot had passed through her main-top-gallant sail; then they opened
their broadsides, aiming chiefly at her rigging, in the hope of disabling
her before she could close with them. Nelson, as usual, had hoisted
several flags, lest one should be shot away. The enemy showed no colours
till late in the action, when they began to feel the necessity of having
them to strike. For this reason, the SANTISSIMA TRINIDAD, Nelson’s old
acquaintance, as he used to call her, was distinguishable only by her four
decks; and to the bow of this opponent he ordered the VICTORY to be
steered. Meantime an incessant raking fire was kept up upon the VICTORY.
The admiral’s secretary was one of the first who fell; he was killed by a
cannon-shot while conversing with Hardy. Captain Adair of the marines,
with the help of a sailor, endeavoured to remove the body from Nelson’s
sight, who had a great regard for Mr. Scott; but he anxiously asked: “Is
that poor Scott that’s gone?” and being informed that was indeed so,
exclaimed: “Poor fellow!” Presently, a double-headed shot struck a party
of marines who were drawn up on the poop, and killed eight of them; upon
which Nelson immediately desired Captain Adair to disperse his men round
the ship, that they might not suffer so much from being together. A few
minutes afterwards a shot struck the four-brace bits on the quarter-deck,
and passed between Nelson and Hardy, a splinter from the bit tearing off
Hardy’s buckle, and bruising his foot. Both stopped, and looked anxiously
at each other, each supposed the other to be wounded. Nelson then smiled,
and said, “This is too warm work, Hardy, to last long.”

The VICTORY had not yet returned a single gun: fifty of her men had been
by this time killed or wounded, and her main-top-mast, with all her
studding-sails and her booms, shot away. Nelson declared, that, in all his
battles, he had seen nothing which surpassed the cool courage of his crew
on this occasion. At four minutes after twelve she opened her fire from
both sides of her deck. It was not possible to break the enemy’s line
without running on board one of their ships: Hardy informed him of this,
and asked him which he would prefer. Nelson replied: “Take your choice,
Hardy, it does not signify much.” The master was ordered to put the helm
to port, and the VICTORY ran on board the REDOUTABLE, just as her tiller
ropes were shot away. The French ship received her with a broadside; then
instantly let down her lower-deck ports, for fear of being bearded through
them, and never afterwards fired a great gun during the action. Her tops,
like those of all the enemy’s ships, were filled with riflemen. Nelson
never placed musketry in his tops; he had a strong dislike to the
practice; not merely because it endangers setting fire to the sails, but
also because it is a murderous sort of warfare, by which individuals may
suffer, and a commander now and then be picked off; but which never can
decide the fate of a general engagement.

Captain Harvey, in the TEMERAIRE, fell on board the REDOUTABLE on the
other side. Another enemy was in like manner on board the TEMERAIRE; so
that these four ships formed as compact a tier as if they had been moored
together, their heads lying all the same way. The lieutenants of the
VICTORY, seeing this, depressed their guns of the middle and lower decks,
and fired with a diminished charge, lest the shot should pass through, and
injure the TEMERAIRE. And because there was danger that the REDOUBTABLE
might take fire from the lower-deck guns, the muzzles of which touched her
side when they were run out, the fireman of each gun stood ready with a
bucket of water; which, as soon as the gun was discharged, he dashed into
the hole made by the shot. An incessant fire was kept up from the VICTORY
from both sides; her larboard guns playing upon the BUCENTAURE and the
huge SANTISSIMA TRINIDAD.

It had been part of Nelson’s prayer that the British fleet might be
distinguished by humanity in the victory which he expected. Setting an
example himself, he twice gave orders to cease firing upon the REDOUTABLE,
supposing that she had struck, because her great guns were silent; for as
she carried no flag, there were no means of instantly ascertaining the
fact. From this ship, which he had thus twice spared, he received his
death. A ball fired from her mizzen-top, which, in the then situation of
the two vessels, was not more than fifteen yards from that part of the
deck where he was standing, struck the epaulette on his left shoulder,
about a quarter after one, just in the heat of action. He fell upon his
face, on the spot which was covered with his poor secretary’s blood.
Hardy, who was a few steps from him, turning round, saw three men raising
him up.—”They have done for me at last, Hardy,” said he.—”I
hope not,” cried Hardy.—”Yes!” he replied, “my back-bone is shot
through.” Yet even now, not for a moment losing his presence of mind, he
observed, as they were carrying him down the ladder, that the tiller
ropes, which had been shot away, were not yet replaced, and ordered that
new ones should be rove immediately. Then, that he might not be seen by
the crew, he took out his handkerchief, and covered his face and his
stars. Had he but concealed these badges of honour from the enemy,
England, perhaps, would not have had cause to receive with sorrow the news
of the battle of Trafalgar. The cockpit was crowded with wounded and dying
men, over whose bodies he was with some difficulty conveyed, and laid upon
a pallet in the midshipmen’s berth. It was soon perceived, upon
examination, that the wound was mortal. This, however, was concealed from
all except Captain Hardy, the chaplain, and the medical attendants. He
himself being certain, from the sensation in his back, and the gush of
blood he felt momently within his breast, that no human care could avail
him, insisted that the surgeon should leave him, and attend to those to
whom he might be useful; “For,” said he, “you can do nothing for me.” All
that could be done was to fan him with paper, and frequently to give him
lemonade to alleviate his intense thirst. He was in great pain, and
expressed much anxiety for the event of the action, which now began to
declare itself. As often as a ship struck, the crew of the VICTORY
hurrahed; and at every hurrah a visible expression of joy gleamed in the
eyes, and marked the countenance of the dying hero. But he became
impatient to see Captain Hardy; and as that officer, though often sent
for, could not leave the deck, Nelson feared that some fatal cause
prevented him, and repeatedly cried, “Will no one bring Hardy to me? He
must be killed! He is surely dead!” An hour and ten minutes elapsed from
the time when Nelson received his wound before Hardy could come to him.
They shook hands in silence, Hardy in vain struggling to repress the
feelings of that most painful and yet sublimest moment. “Well, Hardy,”
said Nelson, “how goes the day with us?”—”Very well,” replied Hardy;
“ten ships have struck, but five of the van have tacked, and show an
intention to bear down upon the VICTORY, I have called two or three of our
fresh ships round, and have no doubt of giving them a drubbing.”—”I
hope,” said Nelson, “none of our ships have struck?” Hardy answered,
“There was no fear of that.” Then, and not till then, Nelson spoke of
himself. “I am a dead man, Hardy,” said he: “I am going fast: it will be
all over with me soon. Come nearer to me. Let my dear Lady Hamilton have
my hair, and all other things belonging to me.” Hardy observed that he
hoped Mr. Beatty could yet hold out some prospect of life. “Oh, no!” he
replied, “it is impossible. My back is shot through. Beatty will tell you
so.” Captain Hardy then, once more, shook hands with him; and, with a
heart almost bursting, hastened upon deck.

By this time all feeling below the breast was gone; and Nelson, having
made the surgeon ascertain this, said to him: “You know I am gone, I know
it. I feel something rising in my breast,”—putting his hand on his
left side,—”which tells me so.” And upon Beatty’s inquiring whether
his pain was very great, he replied, “So great, that he wished he was
dead. Yet,” said he, in a lower voice, “one would like to live a little
longer too!” And after a few minutes, in the same under tone, he added—”What
would become of poor Lady Hamilton, if she knew my situation!” Next to his
country she occupied his thoughts. Captain Hardy, some fifty minutes after
he had left the cockpit, returned; and, again taking the hand of his dying
friend and commander, congratulated him on having gained a complete
victory. How many of the enemy were taken he did not know, as it was
impossible to perceive them distinctly; but fourteen or fifteen at least.
“That’s well,” cried Nelson, “but I bargained for twenty.” And then, in a
stronger voice, he said: “Anchor, Hardy; anchor.” Hardy, upon this, hinted
that Admiral Collingwood would take upon himself the direction of affairs.
“Not while I live, Hardy,” said the dying Nelson, ineffectually
endeavouring to raise himself from the bed: “Do you anchor.” His previous
order for preparing to anchor had shown how clearly he foresaw the
necessity of this. Presently, calling Hardy back, he said to him in a low
voice, “Don’t throw me overboard:” and he desired that he might be buried
by his parents, unless it should please the king to order otherwise. Then
reverting to private feelings: “Take care of my dear Lady Hamilton, Hardy
take care of poor Lady Hamilton. Kiss me, Hardy,” said he. Hardy knelt
down and kissed his cheek; and Nelson: said, “Now I am satisfied. Thank
God I have done my duty.” Hardy stood over him in silence for a moment or
two, then knelt again and kissed his forehead. “Who is that?” said Nelson;
and being informed, he replied, “God bless you, Hardy.” And Hardy then
left him —for ever.

Nelson now desired to be turned upon his right side, and said, “I wish I
had not left the deck; for I shall soon be gone.” Death was, indeed,
rapidly approaching. He said to the chaplain, “Doctor, I have NOT been a
GREAT sinner;” and after a short pause, “Remember that I leave Lady
Hamilton and my daughter Horatia as a legacy to my country.” His
articulation now became difficult; but he was distinctly heard to say,
“Thank God I have done my duty.” These words he repeatedly pronounced; and
they were the last words which he uttered. He expired at thirty minutes
after four—three hours and a quarter after he had received his
wound.

Within a quarter of an hour after Nelson was wounded, above fifty of the
VICTORY’s men fell by the enemy’s musketry. They, however, on their part,
were not idle; and it was not long before there were only two Frenchmen
left alive in the mizzen-top of the REDOUTABLE. One of them was the man
who had given the fatal wound: he did not live to boast of what he had
done. An old quarter-master had seen him fire; and easily recognised him,
because he wore a glazed cocked hat and a white frock. This quarter-master
and two midshipmen, Mr. Collingwood and Mr. Pollard, were the only persons
left in the VICTORY’s poop; the two midshipmen kept firing at the top, and
he supplied them with cartridges. One of the Frenchmen, attempting to make
his escape down the rigging, was shot by Mr. Pollard, and fell on the
poop. But the old quarter-master, as he cried out, “That’s he, that’s he,”
and pointed at the other who was coming forward to fire again, received a
shot in his mouth, and fell dead. Both the midshipmen then fired at the
same time, and the fellow dropped in the top. When they took possession of
the prize, they went into the mizzen-top, and found him dead, with one
ball through his head, and another through his breast.

The REDOUTABLE struck within twenty minutes after the fatal shot had been
fired from her. During that time she had been twice on fire in her
fore-chains and in her forecastle. The French, as they had done in other
battles, made use in this, of fire-balls and other combustibles;
implements of destruction which other nations, from a sense of honour and
humanity, have laid aside; which add to the sufferings of the wounded,
without determining the issue of the combat: which none but the cruel
would employ, and which never can be successful against the brave. Once
they succeeded in setting fire, from the REDOUTABLE, to some ropes and
canvas on the VICTORY’s booms. The cry ran through the ship, and reached
the cockpit; but even this dreadful cry produced no confusion: the men
displayed that perfect self-possession in danger by which English seamen
are characterised; they extinguished the flames on board their own ship,
and then hastened to extinguish them in the enemy, by throwing buckets of
water from the gangway. When the REDOUTABLE had struck, it was not
practicable to board her from the VICTORY; for, though the two ships
touched, the upper works of both fell in so much, that there was a great
space between their gangways; and she could not be boarded from the lower
or middle decks because her ports were down. Some of our men went to
Lieutenant Quilliam, and offered to swim under her bows, and get up there;
but it was thought unfit to hazard brave lives in this manner.

What our men would have done from gallantry, some of the crew of the
SANTISSIMA TRINIDAD did to save themselves. Unable to stand the tremendous
fire of the VICTORY, whose larboard guns played against this great
four-decker, and not knowing how else to escape them, nor where else to
betake themselves for protection, many of them leaped overboard and swam
to the VICTORY; and were actually helped up her sides by the English
during the action. The Spaniards began the battle with less vivacity than
their unworthy allies, but they continued it with greater firmness. The
ARGONAUTA and BAHAMA were defended till they had each lost about four
hundred men; the SAN JUAN NEPOMUCENO lost three hundred and fifty. Often
as the superiority of British courage has been proved against France upon
the seas, it was never more conspicuous than in this decisive conflict.
Five of our ships were engaged muzzle to muzzle with five of the French.
In all five the Frenchmen lowered their lower-deck ports, and deserted
their guns; while our men continued deliberately to load and fire till
they had made the victory secure.

Once, amidst his sufferings, Nelson had expressed a wish that he were
dead; but immediately the spirit subdued the pains of death, and he wished
to live a little longer, doubtless that he might hear the completion of
the victory which he had seen so gloriously begun. That consolation, that
joy, that triumph, was afforded him. He lived to know that the victory was
decisive; and the last guns which were fired at the flying enemy were
heard a minute or two before he expired. The ships which were thus flying
were four of the enemy’s van, all French, under Rear-Admiral Dumanoir.
They had borne no part in the action; and now, when they were seeking
safety in flight, they fired not only into the VICTORY and ROYAL SOVEREIGN
as they passed, but poured their broadsides into the Spanish captured
ships; and they were seen to back their topsails for the purpose of firing
with more precision. The indignation of the Spaniards at this detestable
cruelty from their allies, for whom they had fought so bravely, and so
profusely bled, may well be conceived. It was such that when, two days
after the action, seven of the ships which had escaped into Cadiz came out
in hopes of re-taking some of the disabled prizes, the prisoners in the
ARGONAUTA, in a body, offered their services to the British prize-master,
to man the guns against any of the French ships, saying, that if a Spanish
ship came alongside, they would quietly go below; but they requested that
they might be allowed to fight the French in resentment for the murderous
usage which they had suffered at their hands. Such was their earnestness,
and such the implicit confidence which could be placed in Spanish honour,
that the offer was accepted and they were actually stationed at the
lower-deck guns. Dumanoir and his squadron were not more fortunate than
the fleet from whose destruction they fled. They fell in with Sir Richard
Strachan, who was cruising for the Rochefort squadron, and were all taken.
In the better days of France, if such a crime could then have been
committed, it would have received an exemplary punishment from the French
government. Under Buonaparte it was sure of impunity, and perhaps might be
thought deserving of reward. But if the Spanish court had been
independent, it would have become us to have delivered Dumanoir and his
captains up to Spain, that they might have been brought to trial, and
hanged in sight of the remains of the Spanish fleet.

The total British loss in the battle of Trafalgar amounted to 1587. Twenty
of the enemy struck; but it was not possible to anchor the fleet, as
Nelson had enjoined. A gale came on from the S.W., some of the prizes went
down, some went on shore; one effected its escape into Cadiz; others were
destroyed; four only were saved, and those by the greatest exertions. The
wounded Spaniards were sent ashore, an assurance being given that they
should not serve till regularly exchanged; and the Spaniards, with a
generous feeling, which would not perhaps have been found in any other
people, offered the use of their hospitals for our wounded, pledging the
honour of Spain that they should be carefully attended there. When the
storm, after the action, drove some of the prizes upon the coast, they
declared that the English who were thus thrown into their hands should not
be considered as prisoners of war; and the Spanish soldiers gave up their
own beds to their shipwrecked enemies. The Spanish vice-admiral, Alva,
died of his wounds. Villeneuve was sent to England, and permitted to
return to France. The French Government say that he destroyed himself on
the way to Paris, dreading the consequences of a court-martial; but there
is every reason to believe that the tyrant, who never acknowledged the
loss of the battle of Trafalgar, added Villeneuve to the numerous victims
of his murderous policy.

It is almost superfluous to add, that all the honours which a grateful
country could bestow were heaped upon the memory of Nelson. His brother
was made an earl, with a grant of L6000 a year. L10,000 were voted to each
of his sisters; and L100,000 for the purchase of an estate. A public
funeral was decreed, and a public monument. Statues and monuments also
were voted by most of our principal cities. The leaden coffin in which he
was brought home was cut in pieces, which were distributed as relics of
Saint Nelson,—so the gunner of the VICTORY called them; and when, at
his internment, his flag was about to be lowered into the grave, the
sailors who assisted at the ceremony with one accord rent it in pieces,
that each might preserve a fragment while he lived.

The death of Nelson was felt in England as something more than a public
calamity; men started at the intelligence, and turned pale, as if they had
heard of the loss of a dear friend. An object of our admiration and
affection, of our pride and of our hopes, was suddenly taken from us; and
it seemed as if we had never, till then, known how deeply we loved and
reverenced him. What the country had lost in its great naval hero—the
greatest of our own, and of all former times—was scarcely taken into
the account of grief. So perfectly, indeed, had he performed his part,
that the maritime war, after the battle of Trafalgar, was considered at an
end: the fleets of the enemy were not merely defeated but destroyed; new
navies must be built, and a new race of seamen reared for them, before the
possibility of their invading our shores could again be contemplated. It
was not, therefore, from any selfish reflection upon the magnitude of our
loss that we mourned for him: the general sorrow was of a higher
character. The people of England grieved that funeral ceremonies, and
public monuments, and posthumous rewards, were all which they could now
bestow upon him, whom the king, the legislature, and the nation would have
alike delighted to honour; whom every tongue would have blessed; whose
presence in every village through which he might have passed would have
wakened the church bells, have given schoolboys a holiday, have drawn
children from their sports to gaze upon him, and “old men from the chimney
corner” to look upon Nelson ere they died. The victory of Trafalgar was
celebrated, indeed, with the usual forms of rejoicing, but they were
without joy; for such already was the glory of the British navy, through
Nelson’s surpassing genius, that it scarcely seemed to receive any
addition from the most signal victory that ever was achieved upon the
seas: and the destruction of this mighty fleet, by which all the maritime
schemes of France were totally frustrated, hardly appeared to add to our
security or strength; for, while Nelson was living, to watch the combined
squadrons of the enemy, we felt ourselves as secure as now, when they were
no longer in existence.

There was reason to suppose, from the appearances upon opening the body,
that in the course of nature he might have attained, like his father, to a
good old age. Yet he cannot be said to have fallen prematurely whose work
was done; nor ought he to be lamented who died so full of honours, at the
height of human fame. The most triumphant death is that of the martyr; the
most awful that of the martyred patriot; the most splendid that of the
hero in the hour of victory: and if the chariot and horses of fire had
been vouchsafed for Nelson’s translation, he could scarcely have departed
in a brighter blaze of glory. He has left us, not indeed his mantle of
inspiration, but a name and an example which are at this hour inspiring
thousands of the youth of England: a name which is our pride, and an
example which will continue to be our shield and our strength. Thus it is
that the spirits of the great and the wise continue to live and to act
after them; verifying, in this sense, the language of the old mythologist:—

[The book ends with two lines of ancient Greek by the poet Hesiod. Their
meaning is approximately that of the final lines above.]

[In this text, to keep the character set to the minimum ‘vanilla ASCII’:
italics have been converted to capitals, accents etc. have been omitted,
and the British ‘Pound’ currency symbol has been written as ‘L’. Where
angles are given in degrees, minutes and seconds; the abbreviations d, m,
s have been used.]