The Story of Nelson 28

The Story of Nelson 28

Lord St Vincent did not altogether agree with Nelson’s plans. In his

opinion, “Our great reliance is on the vigilance and activity of our

cruisers at sea.” When Nelson urged upon the Sea Fencibles[61] to man

the coast-defence vessels he was speedily disillusioned. Of the 2600

men enrolled on that part of the coast under his jurisdiction only

385 offered themselves for active service. However, he determined

to do his best with the raw material at hand, and went so far as to

tell the First Lord of the Admiralty that: “Our force will, by your

great exertions, soon get so formidable, that the Enemy will hardly

venture out.” A week after he had assumed command, he says: “It is

perfectly right to be prepared against a mad Government; but with the

active force your Lordship has given me, I may pronounce it almost

impracticable.”

 

On the 2nd August Nelson was off the coast of France, “looking at

Boulogne,” and observed the soldiers erecting guns and mortars “as if

fearful of an attack.” Forty-eight hours later a number of bomb-vessels

were anchored abreast of the port, and the shipping was fired on

without much loss on either side, although several French gunboats were

destroyed. He himself admitted: “The whole of this business is of no

further moment than to show the Enemy, that, with impunity, they cannot

come outside their Ports. I see nothing but a desire on the part of

our Officers and men to get at them.” A vast crowd of people collected

on the cliffs at Dover and watched the spectacle. The _Moniteur_, the

official organ of the French Government, reported the occurrence as

follows:

 

“At dawn Nelson with thirty vessels of all sizes appeared before

Boulogne. A division of our flotilla was at anchor slightly in front

of the harbour. Their bomb-ketches opened fire and ours returned it.

Several times the enemy’s line tried to advance and our soldiers asked

to be allowed to board, but the flotilla’s fire prevented the forward

movement and ultimately compelled the enemy to retire. Nine hundred

bombs were fired during the day without killing or wounding any one.

Two gun-sloops were slightly damaged but returned to service without

loss of time.... This is the first fight in sight of _both_ shores.”

Nelson reported that three of the flat-bottom boats and a brig were

sunk, and that six went on shore “evidently much damaged,” of which

five were eventually salved. A captain of the Royal Artillery and three

British seamen were wounded.

 

Having had the opportunity to see the preparations of the enemy Nelson

was inclined to believe that Napoleon really meant business. “There can

be no doubt of the intention of the French to attempt the Invasion of

our Country,” he tells four of the captains under his command. “I have

now more than ever reason to believe,” he confides to Lord St Vincent,

“that the Ports of Flushing and Flanders are much more likely places

to embark men from, than Calais, Boulogne, or Dieppe; for in Flanders

we cannot tell by our eyes what means they have collected for carrying

an Army.” “My Flotilla, I hope, will be finished by Wednesday,” he

writes to the worthy Sea Lord, under date of the 7th August, “and I

am vain enough to expect a great deal of mischief to the Enemy from

it. I am sure that the French are trying to get from Boulogne; yet the

least wind at W.N.W. and they are lost. I pronounce that no embarkation

can take place at Boulogne; whenever it comes forth, it will be from

Flanders, and what a forlorn undertaking! consider cross tides, etc.,

etc. As for rowing, that is impossible.” This communication was shortly

followed by another: “We are so prepared at this moment, on the Enemy’s

Coasts, that I do not believe they could get three miles from their

own shore.” Again, “Our active force is perfect, and possesses so much

zeal, that I only wish to catch that Buonaparte on the water, either

with the _Amazon_ or _Medusa_; but himself he will never trust.” The

Admiral was far from enjoying his new post. He was “half sea-sick,”

and his one desire was “to get at a proper time clear of my present

command, in which I am sure of diminishing my little fortune, which

at this moment does not reach 10,000 _l._; and never had I an idea of

gaining money by accepting it.” It would be wrong to infer from this

isolated passage that Nelson was particularly fond of money. He was

not, and the present writer is convinced that whenever he grumbled

about financial matters he thought considerably more of justice than

lucre. He could not bear to think he was being “done.” In the present

instance it is clear that he found his command trivial and unprofitable

from a national point of view. Nelson was essentially the man for a

big theatre of action; if he did not actually despise a confined stage

he hated it as paltry and beneath him. He gloried in a battle, not in

a sham-fight; as he himself complained, “there is nothing to be done

on the great Scale.” He appeals pathetically to Lord St Vincent in the

letter from which the above extract is taken: “Do you still think of

sending me to the Mediterranean? If not, I am ready to go, for the spur

of the occasion, on the Expedition which is in embryo, but to return

the moment it is over, for I am afraid of my strength. I am always

ready, as far as I am able.” “As far as September 14th, I am at the

Admiralty’s disposal;” he tells Lady Hamilton, “but, if Mr Buonaparte

does not choose to send his miscreants before that time, my health will

not bear me through equinoctial gales.” The Admiral is just a little

uncertain as to the fate of Napoleon’s flotilla. “I do not believe

they could get three miles from their own shore,” he says on the 9th

August; on the 10th his “well-grounded hope” is that the enemy will be

“annihilated before they get ten miles from their own shores.”

 

Nelson considered Flushing as his “grand object” of attack, but

hesitated to venture before consulting the Admiralty because “the

risk is so great of the loss of some Vessels.” It would be “a week’s

Expedition for 4000 or 5000 troops.” To aid his own arguments he

appeals to history: “To crush the Enemy at home was the favourite plan

of Lord Chatham, and I am sure you think it the wisest measure to

carry the war from our own doors.... I own, my dear Lord, that this

Boat warfare is not exactly congenial to my feelings, and I find I get

laughed at for my puny mode of attack. I shall be happy to lead the way

into Helvoet or Flushing, if Government will turn their thoughts to

it: whilst I serve, I will do it actively, and to the very best of my

abilities. I have all night had a fever, which is very little abated

this morning; my mind carries me beyond my strength, and will do me up;

but such is my nature. I have serious doubt whether I shall be able,

from my present feelings, to go to the Mediterranean; but I will do

what I can--I require nursing like a child. Pray God we may have peace,

and with honour, and then let us start fair with the rest of Europe.”

To other correspondents he says, “I am very much fagged”; “I am still

very unwell, and my head is swelled.”

 

Notwithstanding the weighty arguments brought forward by Nelson to

support his projected attempt on Flushing, the Lords of the Admiralty

could not see their way to grant the requisite permission. Nelson was

so confident in his belief that he appealed to the Prime Minister.

“Lord St Vincent,” he writes, “tells me he hates Councils, so do I

between Military men; for if a man consults whether he is to fight,

when he has the power in his own hands, _it is certain that his

opinion is against fighting_; but that is not the case at present, and

I own I do want good council. Lord St Vincent is for keeping the Enemy

closely blockaded; but I see that they get along shore inside their

Sandbanks, and under their guns, which line the Coast of France. Lord

Hood is for keeping our Squadrons of Defence stationary on our own

shore, (except light Cutters, to give information of every movement of

the Enemy;) for the time is approaching when a gale of westerly wind

will disperse our light Squadrons.... When men of such good sense,

such great Sea Officers, differ so widely, is it not natural that I

should wish the mode of defence to be well arranged by the mature

considerations of men of judgment? I mean not to detract from my

judgment; even as it is, it is well known: but I boast of nothing but

my zeal; in that I will give way to no man upon earth.”

 

On the night of the 15th August Nelson renewed his attempt on the

Boulogne flotilla. His plan of attack shows that he took elaborate

precautions to preclude the possibility of failure. La Touche Tréville,

in command at Boulogne, had also profited by his recent experience with

the British, and had fitted out additional bomb-ketches and placed

mortars on smacks for the purpose of defence. Nelson arranged that

four divisions of ships’ boats should be employed, each accompanied

by one or two flat boats armed with either an 8-inch howitzer or a

24-pound carronade. Two boats of each division were to be prepared for

cutting the enemy’s cable and sternfast and to be provided with stout

hook-ropes for the purpose of towing the prizes. “When any Boats have

taken one Vessel, the business is not to be considered as finished;

but a sufficient number being left to guard the Prize, the others are

immediately to pursue the object, by proceeding on to the next, and so

on, until the whole Flotilla be either taken, or totally annihilated;

for there must not be the smallest cessation until their destruction is

completely finished.”

 

Pikes, cutlasses, tomahawks, axes, and all the paraphernalia of war

were to be placed on the boats. Fast-sailing cutters were to keep

close in shore so as to be ready to tow out any vessels which might be

captured. “The greatest silence is to be observed by all the people in

the Boats, and the oars to be muffled.” The watchword was “Nelson,” the

answer “Bronté.”

 

The attack was a failure. The brave fellows found the vessels not only

full of soldiers but defended by sharp spikes of iron and netting

placed round the hulls in a similar manner to the torpedo netting of

modern naval warfare. It was said by the attacking party that the

French boats were secured to the shore by stout cables, a belief

entertained by Nelson, but La Touche Tréville indignantly denied the

accusation in his official report. The British seamen went into a

veritable halo of fire, the soldiers on the boats being assisted by

comrades stationed on the heights. It was an unequal contest in every

way, and when the second division of boats, under Captain Parker,

closed with the enemy, it is stated that the French commander plainly

said so. “You can do nothing here,” he shouted, “and it is only useless

shedding the blood of brave men to make the attempt.”[62] Parker’s

thigh was shattered while attempting to board the French Commodore’s

boat, another officer was shot through the leg, and the killed and

wounded were numbered at 172. Officially the French casualties were

returned at ten killed and thirty wounded, probably a low estimate. “No

person can be blamed for sending them to the attack but myself;” the

Commander-in-chief writes to Lord St Vincent, “I knew the difficulty

of the undertaking, therefore I ventured to ask your opinion.” He

attributed the failure to the divisions not having arrived “at the

same happy moment with Captain Parker.” “More determined, persevering

courage, I never witnessed.” “I long to pay them, for their tricks

t’other day,” he writes to Lady Hamilton, “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.”

 

Nelson was deeply attached to Captain Parker, whom he calls “my

child, for I found him in distress.” His correspondence at this time

is replete with references to the condition of the patient. “Would I

could be useful,” he tells the doctor, “I would come on shore and nurse

him.” When the gallant officer died at Deal on the 28th September,

the Admiral begged that his friend’s hair might be cut off; “it shall

remain and be buried with me.” Again we see the wistful, woman-like

emotionalism of Nelson’s nature. He calls it “a happy release,” and

says in the same sentence, “but I cannot bring myself to say I am glad

he is gone; it would be a lie, for I am grieved almost to death.” When

“the cleverest and quickest man and the most zealous in the world”

was buried at Deal, Nelson attended the ceremony. It is recorded that

the man who could stare Death in the face without flinching, who was

“in perils oft” and enjoyed the experience, was visibly affected.

The Admiral’s grief was expressed in a practical way. Finding that

the deceased Captain had left his finances in a most unsatisfactory

condition he paid the creditors in full.

 

The war with France had lasted eight weary years. Great Britain had

more than maintained her own on the sea; Napoleon had proved his

consummate skill in the manipulation of land forces. Overtures for

peace were mooted, then definitely made through M. Otto, a French

agent in London for the exchange of prisoners. The cessation of

hostilities became the topic of the hour. After innumerable delays the

preliminaries were signed in London on the 1st October 1801, to the joy

of the populace on both sides of the Channel. Nelson was not convinced

as to Napoleon’s _bonâ fides_. He loathed the French and took no pains

to disguise the fact. In writing to a friend a fortnight or so before

he received news of the event mentioned above, he admits, “I pray God

we may have Peace, when it can be had with honour; but I fear that the

scoundrel Buonaparte wants to humble us, as he has done the rest of

Europe--to degrade us in our own eyes, by making us give up all our

conquests, as proof of our sincerity for making a Peace, and then he

will condescend to treat with us.” The Admiral was not far wrong, as

subsequent events proved. In a letter dated the 14th September, two

days later than the one from which the above quotation is made, he

looks forward “with hope but will not be too sanguine. I yet hope the

negotiation is not broken entirely off, for we can never alter the

situation of France or the Continent, and ours will become a War of

defence; but I hope they will do for the best.” Three days after the

signature of the preliminaries of peace he warns the commanders of the

various squadrons that they are to be “very vigilant in watching the

Enemy, and, on no account to suffer them to put into the Channel, as hostilities have not yet ceased.”