the story of Nelson 16

the story of Nelson 16

Charles Dixon, R.I., from a sketch by C. W. Cole]

 

“After this awful scene, the firing was recommenced with the Ships to

leeward of the Centre, till twenty minutes past ten, when there was a

total cessation of firing for about ten minutes; after which it was

revived till about three in the morning, when it again ceased. After

the victory had been secured in the Van, such British ships as were in

a condition to move, had gone down upon the fresh Ships of the Enemy,

which occasioned these renewals of the fight, all of which terminated

with the same happy success in favour of our Flag. At five minutes past

five in the morning, the two Rear ships of the Enemy, _Le Guillaume

Tell_ and _Le Généreux_, were the only French ships of the Line that

had their colours flying. At fifty-four minutes past five, a French

frigate, _L’Artemise_, fired a broadside and struck her colours; but

such was the unwarrantable and infamous conduct of the French Captain,

that after having thus surrendered, he set fire to his Ship, and with

part of his crew, made his escape on shore. Another of the French

frigates, _La Sérieuse_, had been sunk by the fire from some of our

Ships; but as her poop remained above water, her men were saved upon

it, and were taken off by our boats in the morning. The _Bellerophon_,

whose masts and cables had been entirely shot away, could not retain

her situation abreast of _L’Orient_, but had drifted out of the line

to the lee side of the Bay, a little before that Ship blew up. The

_Audacious_ was in the morning detached to her assistance. At eleven

o’clock, _Le Généreux_ and _Guillaume Tell_, with the two frigates, _La

Justice_ and _La Diane_, cut their cables and stood out to sea, pursued

by the _Zealous_, Captain Hood, who, as the Admiral himself has stated,

handsomely endeavoured to prevent their escape; but as there was no

other Ship in a condition to support the _Zealous_, she was recalled.

The whole day of the 2nd was employed in securing the French ships

that had struck, and which were now all completely in our possession,

_Le Tonnant_ and _Timoleon_ excepted; as these were both dismasted,

and consequently could not escape, they were naturally the last of

which we thought of taking possession. On the morning of the third,

the _Timoleon_ was set fire to, and _Le Tonnant_ had cut her cable

and drifted on shore, but that active officer, Captain Miller, of the

_Theseus_, soon got her off again, and secured her in the British line.”

 

It was a decisive victory, the only kind of victory that appealed to

Nelson, who styled it a “conquest.” Of the thirteen French battleships,

nine were taken, one was blown up, one was burnt, and two escaped;

one frigate sank, another was destroyed by fire, and two got away.

Napoleon had been deprived of his only means of communication with

France. Thus the sea swallowed his triumphs. From a political point

of view the battle of the Nile paved the way for the formation of the

Second Coalition against France, in which six Powers took part, namely,

England, Russia, Austria, Turkey, Naples, and Portugal.

 

Nelson received his wound by being struck in the forehead by a piece

of iron. The skin was torn so badly that it hung over his face, the

blood streaming down with such profusion that he was afraid his left

eye had gone like the right. “I am killed”; he cried to Captain Berry,

“remember me to my wife.” But the Admiral had been “killed” in battle

before, and the intense pain of the wound sufficiently justified the

exclamation. He was carried to the cockpit, the cut bound up, and

strict quiet enjoined. This was easier said than done with a patient

such as Nelson. His abnormal mentality speedily gained ascendancy over

his physical infirmities. He soon declared that he felt better, and

shortly afterwards had so far recovered as to begin a dictated despatch

to the Admiralty. On the Captain informing him that _L’Orient_ was

ablaze he insisted on clambering to the deck, as we have seen. Berry

gave him his arm, and together they witnessed the disaster. Nelson was

certainly more fortunate than Brueys, who was shot almost in two.

 

On the 2nd August the Admiral returned Public Thanksgiving on the

_Vanguard_, an example he desired to be followed on every ship “as

soon as convenient.” He also took the opportunity to thank the men of

the squadron for the part they had played in the late action: “It must

strike forcibly every British Seaman, how superior their conduct is,

when in discipline and good order, to the riotous behaviour of lawless

Frenchmen.”

 

In those days precedent was a fetish. To depart from what had

previously obtained was not to be thought of, much less suggested.

For this reason Nelson was created a Baron, the lowest rank in the

peerage, but the highest that had been conferred “on an officer of your

standing,” as he was informed. In addition he was voted a pension of

£2000 a year, which was also to be paid to his two next heirs.

 

Mention of the “great and brilliant Victory” was made in the King’s

Speech at the opening of Parliament, its organiser received the thanks

of both Houses, as well as of the Parliament of Ireland, and many

foreign potentates and British Corporations paid him honour. Among

the numerous presents he received were two boxes set with diamonds, a

superb diamond aigrette, a gold-headed cane, pieces of valuable plate,

and a coffin. The latter, made of wood and iron from the ill-fated

_L’Orient_, was sent to him by Captain Hallowell. By a strange

coincidence Thanksgiving services were held in the churches of the

United Kingdom on the 21st October, a date ever associated with Nelson,

because of Trafalgar. It may be thought that there was unnecessary

delay, but it must be remembered that the wonders of telegraphy were

then undreamed of. News of the victory was not received in London

until the fifty-seventh day after the event. “God be praised,” writes

the Earl of St Vincent, “and you and your gallant band rewarded by a

grateful Country, for the greatest Achievement the history of the world

can produce.” Perhaps this noble sentiment from the Commander-in-chief

was valued above the insignificant rewards of the Government.

 

To “Fighting” Berry Nelson entrusted the charge of his despatches for

the Admiral, for which purpose he was given the _Leander_ (50). With

grim irony Fate played a trick entirely unworthy so gallant an officer.

On the 18th August, off Gozo, near Candia, the _Généreux_, which

it will be remembered escaped from Nelson’s vengeance at the Nile,

appeared on the horizon. The frigate attempted to show “a clean pair of

heels,” but recognising that the enemy was gaining in the race, sail

was shortened and the decks cleared for action. The brave defenders of

the _Leander_ resisted manfully for over six hours until the mastless,

rudderless hulk could be fought no longer. Berry, who was wounded,

together with the officers and crew were landed at Corfu and thence

sent to Trieste, where the officers were released on _parole_, and

the crew kept prisoners. On being exchanged, the captain received the

honour of knighthood, a reward richly deserved and valiantly won. Berry

got even with the French after all, for in 1799 he turned the tables

on the victors by capturing the _Généreux_ with Nelson’s flagship, the

_Foudroyant_.

 

Captain Sir James Saumarez, with twelve ships of the squadron, was

directed to convoy the best of the prizes to Gibraltar, the remainder,

being valueless, were set on fire. Hood was called upon to blockade

Alexandria, and two of the battleships were sent to Naples for very

necessary repairs. To this port the _Vanguard_ laboriously followed.

Nelson was “taken with a fever, which has very near done my business:

for eighteen hours, my life was thought to be past hope; I am now

up, but very weak both in body and mind, from my cough and this

fever.” This was on the 20th September, two days before “the wreck of

_Vanguard_ arrived in the Bay of Naples.” The occasion was one of great

rejoicing on the part of the Sicilian Court. Miss Knight, the daughter

of Rear-Admiral Sir Joseph Knight, who was present, thus records the

events of the 22nd inst.:

 

“In the evening, went out with Sir William and Lady Hamilton, music,

&c., to meet Admiral Nelson, who in the _Vanguard_, with the _Thalia_

Frigate (Captain Newhouse) was seen coming in. We went on board, about

a league out at sea, and sailed in with him: soon after us, the King

came on board, and staid till the anchor was dropped. He embraced the

Admiral with the greatest warmth, and said he wished he could have

been in the engagement,[31] and served under his orders; and that he

likewise wished he could have been in England, when the news of the

victory arrived there. He went down to see the Ship, and was delighted

to perceive the care taken of a wounded man, who had two to serve

him, and one reading to him. He asked to see the hat which saved the

Admiral’s life, when he was wounded in the head with a splinter. The

Queen was taken with a fit of the ague when she was coming on board

with the Princesses. Commodore Caraccioli came soon after the King, and

many of the Neapolitan nobility, bands of music, &c. It happened to be

the anniversary of our King’s coronation. The Admiral came on shore

with us, and said, it was the first time he had been out of his Ship

for six months, except once on board Lord St Vincent.[32] The Russian

Ambassador and all the Legation came out to meet him. When we landed at

the Health Office, the applauses and the crowd of people were beyond

description. Admiral Nelson is little, and not remarkable in his person

either way; but he has great animation of countenance, and activity

in his appearance: his manners are unaffectedly simple and modest.

He lodges at Sir William Hamilton’s, who has given him the upper

apartment. The whole City is mad with joy.”

 

There was indeed every reason for this jubilation. A starless night

seemed about to give place to a golden dawn. Towards the end of 1796

Napoleon’s astounding successes had obliged Ferdinand, King of the Two

Sicilies, to agree to terms of peace, especially as the English had

decided to evacuate the Mediterranean.[33] The situation became more

and more ominous. Consequently when Queen Maria Carolina, Ferdinand’s

energetic consort, heard that the King of Spain was about to ally

himself to the hated Republic, she speedily informed Sir William

Hamilton, the English Ambassador.[34] She realised that the hope of the

kingdom depended not in half-measures of friendship towards England,

but in securing her definite assistance and casting off the French

yoke. Hamilton in his turn warned his Government of the proposed

arrangement, which seemed likely to have far-reaching consequences and

to threaten England in the Mediterranean. Her Majesty also kept up

a secret correspondence with London. She was therefore particularly

relieved when information arrived that the protection of the Two

Sicilies against potential French despoilers was to be entrusted to the

Hero of the Nile.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER X

 

The Neapolitan Court and Lady Hamilton

 

“_‘Down, down with the French!’ is my constant prayer._”

 

NELSON.