The Story of Nelson 13

The Story of Nelson 13

A beautiful gold casket containing the much-coveted Freedom of the

City and a sword of honour was given to Sir Horatio, as we must now

call him, by the Corporation of London, and Norwich, where some of

his school days were spent, likewise conferred its Freedom upon him.

Nelson on his part presented the county town of Norfolk with the sword

of the Spanish Rear-Admiral who had died of his wounds on board the

_San Josef_. Other cities extended “the right hand of friendship” to

the hero, including Bath and Bristol. Nelson’s father was overcome when

he heard of his son’s brilliant success: “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 cheek. Who could stand the force of such

general congratulation? The name and services of Nelson have sounded

throughout the City of Bath, from the common ballad-singer to the

public theatre. Joy sparkles in every eye, and desponding Britain draws

back her sable veil, and smiles.”

 

Although he had clearly disobeyed Jervis’s order for the ships to

attack in succession, the Commodore’s daring action had rendered the

battle decisive. Sir Robert Calder, the Captain of the Fleet, is said

to have protested against Nelson’s conduct, but the Admiral’s reply,

“If you ever commit such a breach of orders I will forgive you,”

was entirely worthy of the stern old disciplinarian. Jervis was not

one of those officers who bestow praise on every possible occasion,

both in and out of season. He was just, and therefore recognised the

extremely valuable service which Nelson had rendered to him. We shall

have occasion to see how Calder himself behaved at a certain critical

period, when a stroke of genius such as had been displayed at St

Vincent would have robbed Nelson of the glory of Trafalgar.[19]

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER VII

 

From Triumph to Failure: The Attempt on Santa Cruz

 

(1797)

 

“_I have had flattery enough to make me vain, and success enough to

make me confident._”

 

NELSON.

 

 

All hopes on the part of Britain’s enemies for the invasion of the

British Isles were quashed for a time by the victory off Cape St

Vincent. Although the distressed Spanish fleet reached Cadiz safely,

minus four sail-of-the-line which the British had captured, there was

no likelihood at the moment of the ships showing their “noses” out of

port, many of the aforesaid noses being much out of joint. For several

weeks Nelson was engaged in a fruitless search for a treasure-ship,

convoyed by three sail-of-the-line, supposed to be making for Spain;

but in April 1797 he was directed by the Admiral to blockade Cadiz,

a task not altogether devoid of incident if for no other reason than

that no neutral vessel was permitted to enter or leave the port without

his permission. He was particularly concerned as to the welfare of the

garrison at Elba. The Commander-in-Chief believed that the soldiers

were on their way to Gibraltar; Nelson was of opinion that “If the

French get out two sail-of-the-line, which I am confident they may do,

our Troops are lost, and what a triumph would that be to them!” At his

own suggestion he was sent to Porto Ferrajo to make enquiries about

the luckless little army. The convoy had started, and he met it off

the south of Corsica. He learned of Napoleon’s wonderful success in

the subjugation of Italy and the humbling of Austria, admitting that

“there seems no prospect of stopping these extraordinary people,” the

French. Shifting from the _Captain_, which required to be docked, he

hoisted his rear-admiral’s flag on the _Theseus_, and was given command

of the inshore squadron of the fleet blockading the great seaport, “in

sight of the whole Spanish Fleet. I am barely out of shot of a Spanish

Rear-Admiral.” The citizens not unnaturally dreaded a bombardment;

Nelson confessed, “I long to be at them.” At the same time he reverted

to the old idea of a cottage in Norfolk. “The imperious call of honour

to serve my Country,” and a not ignoble desire to add to his prize

money in order to give his wife “those little luxuries which you so

highly merit,” did not, however, permit him to give more than a passing

thought to retirement.

 

On the night of the 3rd July 1797 all the barges and launches of

the British blockading fleet, carrying carronades, ammunition and

pikes, were placed at Nelson’s disposal by the Earl of St Vincent for

the bombardment of Cadiz. A spirited action took place between the

British and Spanish sailors, the latter using mortar gunboats and

armed launches. The Spanish met with a repulse and three prizes were

taken. Referring to the blockade in his Autobiography, Nelson says:

“It was during this period that perhaps my personal courage was more

conspicuous than at any other part of my life,” the remark obviously

referring to the following incident. The barge of the Commander of the

enemy’s gunboats came up alongside Nelson’s little craft, containing

thirteen persons in all, and a desperate hand-to-hand fight ensued.

The Rear-Admiral would have lost his life had it not been for the good

services of John Sykes, the coxswain, one of those humble heroes of

whom one hears too little, so predominant are the greater figures

of history. The enemy paid dearly for the exploit. Eighteen of the

crew were killed, several wounded, the Commander was taken prisoner,

and the boat captured. On the 5th of the same month Cadiz was again

bombarded, and according to the official despatch, the cannonade

“produced considerable effect in the Town and among the Shipping.” The

Earl of St Vincent now proved how strict a disciplinarian he was. The

crews of some of the ships had shown unmistakable signs of mutiny, and

the Court Martial having passed sentence on four of the ringleaders,

the Commander-in-Chief saw no reason for delaying the execution of

the sentence. He had the men hanged on a Sunday, a few hours after

they had been found guilty. Nelson strongly approved of the execution,

“even although it is _Sunday_. The particular situation of the service

requires extraordinary measures.” It is significant that no signs of

dissatisfaction made themselves felt in any of the Rear-Admiral’s

ships, but Nelson’s words show that he would not have condoned anything

of the kind.

 

An attack on Santa Cruz, where it was believed that the _Principe

d’Asturias_, a ship of considerable value belonging to the Philippine

Company, had taken shelter, next fell to Nelson’s lot. He had already

hinted to the Admiral that the conquest of Teneriffe was an object

very dear to him, which he was confident “could not fail of success,

would immortalize the undertakers, ruin Spain, and has every prospect

of raising our Country to a higher pitch of wealth than she has ever

yet attained....” His plan was to utilise the 3700 soldiers from

Elba; “I will undertake with a very small Squadron to do the Naval

part.” The scheme fell through, to be revived by the Earl himself,

but it was to be carried out without the assistance of the troops.

Three sail-of-the-line and the same number of frigates were placed at

Nelson’s disposal. Ladders, sledge-hammers, wedges, axes, additional

iron ram-rods, and a sleigh for dragging cannon formed a necessary

part of the equipment. A perusal of the regulations recommended by

the Rear-Admiral shows that he took the most elaborate precautions to

ensure success. Captain Thomas Troubridge, of the _Culloden_, was given

command of the entire force, Captain Oldfield directing the Marines,

Lieutenant Baynes his detachment of the Royal Artillery. The first

attempt was made on the night of the 21st and failed, largely owing to

adverse weather. As a consequence the spot which Nelson had indicated

as most suitable for landing was not reached, and dawn disclosed the

whereabouts of the little expedition to the Spaniards. It was also

found impossible to get the battle-ships close enough to the fort to

create a diversion by bombardment while the storming party attempted to

gain the heights.

 

Any blame which may have been attributable to Troubridge was minimised

by Nelson in his despatch to the Admiral, “all has hitherto been done

which was possible, without effect.” He therefore decided to command

in person, “and to-morrow my head will probably be crowned with either

laurel or cypress.” Did some premonition of disaster lead him to write

to the Earl of St Vincent to recommend his step-son “to you and my

Country,” and to add that “should I fall in the service of my King and

Country” the Duke of Clarence would “take a lively interest” in Josiah

Nisbet? It was certainly not his way of saying things at this stage

of his career, although we know that in 1805 he avowed that Trafalgar

would be his last battle.

 

[Illustration: Nelson wounded at Santa Cruz

 

R. Caton Woodville]

 

On the 24th Nelson was able to get his ships nearer land than on the

previous occasion. He and nearly a thousand men set out in small boats

at about eleven o’clock at night for the Mole, where they were to

disembark. The oars being muffled and dead silence enjoined, the enemy

did not discover their approach till they were within half gun-shot of

the appointed _rendez-vous_. Immediately thirty or forty cannon blazed

out, the sharp ping of musket shots rent the air, but, says Nelson,

“nothing could stop the intrepidity of the Captains leading the

divisions. Unfortunately, the greatest part of the Boats did not see

the Mole, but went on shore through a raging surf, which stove all the

Boats to the left of it.”

 

With the companies of four or five boats and two Captains, the

Rear-Admiral stormed the landing-place in the darkness and took

possession of it in the presence of several hundred of the enemy. They

then proceeded to spike the guns, but were driven back by the heavy

fire which seemed to issue from every available point. Scarcely a man

escaped death or a wound. Nelson was shot through the right elbow as

he was stepping from the boat. With rare presence of mind he quietly

transferred the sword he carried to his left hand. This weapon, once

the property of his uncle Maurice Suckling, was treasured by him

almost more than any other possession. He was not going to leave that

of all things on Spanish soil! Young Nisbet happened to be near his

step-father at the moment he received his wound, and placed him in the

bottom of the boat. He then held the arm so as to staunch the blood,

untied the silk handkerchief round his neck and bound up the injury

as best he could. After passing under the enemy’s batteries the few

men who had regained the little craft bent to the oars and eventually

pulled out of range of the guns, but not before some of the crew of the

_Fox_, who had been flung into the sea owing to the sinking of that

cutter, had been rescued by them. Someone suggested that Nelson should

be taken to the nearest vessel for surgical treatment. He would not

hear of this because the captain’s wife happened to be on board and

he had no intelligence of her husband’s fate. Whatever agonies Nelson

suffered, as the sadly denuded crew made their way to the _Theseus_,

were kept to himself; scarcely a groan escaped his lips.

 

“At two o’clock [A.M.],” says a midshipman who saw the sorrowful

boatload, “Admiral Nelson returned on board, being dreadfully wounded

in the right arm with a grape-shot. I leave you to judge of my

situation, when I beheld our boat approach with him who I may say

has been a second father to me, his right arm dangling by his side,

whilst with the other he helped himself to jump up the Ship’s side,

and with a spirit that astonished every one, told the surgeon to get

his instruments ready, for he knew he must lose his arm, and that the

sooner it was off the better. He underwent the amputation with the same

firmness and courage that have always marked his character.”