The Story of Nelson 34

The Story of Nelson 34

The Emperor had made a final effort to unite his scattered ships.

When the combined fleet was on its way to Europe the blockades of

Rochefort and Ferrol had been abandoned so that Calder might intercept

the enemy. He was but partially successful, as already explained. The

squadron of five sail-of-the-line at Rochefort, commanded by Allemand,

Missiessy’s successor, had taken advantage of the temporary absence

of the British squadron and was making its way to Vigo, where there

were three sail.[66] Villeneuve had put into Coruña with fifteen

battle-ships, and found fourteen Spanish and French sail-of-the-line

awaiting him. This brought the total of his available resources to

thirty-four sail, provided all were united. If Villeneuve were able to

join Ganteaume at Brest the number would be fifty-five. Cornwallis,

with either thirty-four or thirty-five, was a dangerous menace, but

when that commander detached eighteen sail to blockade Ferrol it did

not seem insurmountable, even supposing that the five ships under

Calder, then stationed off Rochefort, joined him, which they did on the

14th August. After considerable delay Villeneuve weighed anchor on the

13th August 1805, and hoped to reach Brest. He encountered bad weather,

mistook Allemand’s ships for the enemy’s vessels, and, to make matters

worse, was informed that a large British fleet was on the alert. With

this he altered his course and put in at Cadiz a week later. Here he

was watched by Collingwood with three sail-of-the-line and two smaller

vessels, until the latter was reinforced by twenty-two battleships,

four of which were under Sir Richard Bickerton and the remainder under

Calder. When Napoleon heard of Villeneuve’s retirement to Cadiz he knew

that his gigantic exertions for the invasion of the United Kingdom

had been completely shattered. With marvellous facility he shifted his

horizon from the white cliffs of England to the wooded banks of the

Danube. The so-called Army of England was marched from Boulogne to win

fresh conquests in the Austerlitz Campaign and to crush yet another

coalition.

 

At five o’clock on the morning of the 2nd September 1805, Captain

Blackwood presented himself at Merton. “I am sure you bring me news

of the French and Spanish fleets,” Nelson exclaimed in his eager,

boyish way, “and I think I shall yet have to beat them.” Blackwood

was the bearer of the important intelligence that Villeneuve, largely

augmented, was at Cadiz. For a time it would appear as if Nelson

hesitated, not on his own account but because of those whom he loved.

His health was bad, he felt the country very restful after his trying

cruise, and he disliked to give Lady Hamilton cause for further

anxiety. He walked the “quarter-deck” in his garden weighing the pros

with the cons, then set off for the Admiralty in Whitehall.

 

“I think I shall yet have to beat them.” His mistress was apparently no

less valiant, at least in her conversation. “Nelson,” she is stated to

have said, “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.”

 

Eleven days after Captain Blackwood’s call Nelson left Merton for ever.

It was a fearful wrench, but he was prepared to sacrifice everything

to his King and his country. The following night he wrote in his

Diary, little thinking that the outpourings of his spirit would ever

be revealed in the lurid light of publicity, a prayer which shows very

clearly that he had a premonition he would never open its pages again

under the roof of Merton Place:

 

“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, that I may leave behind. His will be done. Amen, Amen,

Amen.”

 

The _Victory_, on which he hoisted his flag, had been hastily patched

up and put in fighting trim. As her escort went the _Euryalus_ frigate,

joined later by the _Ajax_ and _Thunderer_.

 

Collingwood and Calder “sat tight” outside Cadiz harbour with one eye

on the enemy and the other searching for signs of the British ships,

for they had heard that Nelson would be with them ere long. Later,

“my dear Coll” received further tidings by the _Euryalus_ requesting

that “not only no salute may take place, but also that no colours may

be hoisted: for it is as well not to proclaim to the enemy every ship

which may join the fleet.” The supreme modesty of Nelson stands out

clearly in the last words of the note: “I would not have any salute,

even if you are out of sight of land.”

 

The day before his forty-seventh birthday, Nelson hove in sight

of Cadiz and assumed command. On the 29th the officers came to

congratulate him. “The reception I met with on joining the fleet,”

he declares, “caused the sweetest sensation of my life. The

officers who came on board to welcome my return, forgot my rank as

Commander-in-chief in the enthusiasm with which they greeted me. As

soon as these emotions were past, I laid before them the plan I had

previously arranged for attacking the enemy; and it was not only my

pleasure to find it generally approved, but clearly perceived and

understood.” Again: “Some shed tears, all approved,” he writes, “it

was new, it was singular, it was simple; and from Admirals downwards

it was repeated, ‘It must succeed if ever they will allow us to get at

them! You are, my Lord, surrounded by friends whom you inspire with

confidence.’”[67] In due course the complete plan of attack was issued.

 

On October 19th the signal, “The enemy are coming out of port,” flew

from the mastheads of the frigates stationed to watch the goings-on in

the harbour. Thirty-three ships-of-the-line, with five frigates and

two brigs, had passed out by the following day. They were certainly

“painted ships,” with their vividly-coloured hulls of red and black,

yellow and black, and black and white. Their mission was to support

Napoleon’s army in the south of Italy.

 

Once at sea the combined fleet sailed in two divisions, as had been

agreed upon by Villeneuve and Gravina, the commander of the Spanish

vessels. The French Admiral’s own squadron, the _Corps de bataille_,

was made up of twenty-one sail-of-the-line, the centre under Villeneuve

himself, the van under Alava, and the rear under Dumanoir. The _Corps

de réserve_, or Squadron of Observation, consisted of twelve ships

divided into two squadrons of equal strength, each commanded by Gravina

and Magon respectively. The duty of the _Corps de réserve_ was to watch

the battle and to reinforce any weak point as opportunity occurred.

 

Nelson’s force consisted of twenty-seven men-o’-war, four frigates,

a schooner, and a cutter. The enemy, therefore, had the advantage

as regards heavy ships, of six sail-of-the-line. In armament the

combatants were nearly equal,[68] as in bravery and daring, but very

inferior in seamanship and general _morale_. It was very necessary to

prevent the enemy from entering the Mediterranean, as Napoleon’s orders

strictly enjoined them to do, therefore the signal was made for a

“general chase S.E.,” namely, towards the Straits of Gibraltar.

 

Napoleon had resolved to supersede Villeneuve by Rosily. This decision

probably carried more weight with the French Admiral than any other,

and had determined his course of action, although at a council of war,

held before anchors were weighed, a resolution was passed to avoid an

engagement with the British if possible. Of personal courage he had no

lack, for he wrote to Decrès, the Minister of Marine, “if the French

navy has been deficient in nothing but courage, as it is alleged,

the Emperor shall soon be satisfied, and he may reckon upon the most

splendid success.” His great hope was that he might elude detection and

land the troops he had on board at Naples. He was without faith in his

ships.

 

Having seen that his orders were carried out, Nelson went to his cabin

and began the last letter he was destined to write to Lady Hamilton.

Here it is in full:

 

“_Victory_, October 19th 1805. Noon.

“CADIZ, E.S.E. 16 Leagues.

 

“MY DEAREST BELOVED EMMA, THE DEAR FRIEND OF MY BOSOM,--The signal

has been made that the Enemy’s Combined Fleet are coming out of

Port. We have very little wind, so that I have no hopes of seeing

them before to-morrow. May the God of Battles crown my endeavours

with success; at all events, I will take care that my name shall

ever be most dear to you and Horatia, both of whom I love as much

as my own life. And as my last writing before the Battle will be to

you, so I hope in God that I shall live to finish my letter after

the Battle. May Heaven bless you, prays your

 

“NELSON AND BRONTÉ.

 

“October 20th.--In the morning, we were close to the Mouth of the

Straits, but the wind had not come far enough to the Westward to

allow the Combined Fleets to weather the Shoals of Trafalgar; but

they were counted as far as forty Sail of Ships of War, which I

suppose to be thirty-four of the Line, and six Frigates. A group

of them was seen off the Lighthouse of Cadiz this morning, but it

blows so very fresh and thick weather, that I rather believe they

will go into the Harbour before night. May God Almighty give us

success over these fellows, and enable us to get a Peace.”

 

After Trafalgar had been fought and won, the above letter was found

open on Nelson’s desk.

 

The 20th was cold, damp, and miserable, but the fleet had made good

speed and was between Capes Trafalgar and Spartel. By noon the

_Victory_ was within eight or nine leagues of Cadiz.

 

Dr Beatty, surgeon of Nelson’s flagship, thus records how the day was

spent:

 

“At 8 o’clock in the morning of the 20th, the _Victory_ hove to, and

Admiral Collingwood, with the captains of the _Mars_, _Colossus_, and

_Defence_, came on board to receive instructions from his Lordship:

at eleven minutes past nine they returned to their respective ships,

and the fleet made sail again to the Northward. In the afternoon the

wind increased, and blew fresh from the S.W., which excited much

apprehension on board the _Victory_, lest the enemy might be forced to

return to port. The look-out ships, however, made several signals for

seeing them, and to report their force and bearings. His Lordship was

at that time on the poop; and turning round, and observing a group of

midshipmen assembled together, he said to them with a smile, ‘This day,

or to-morrow, will be a fortunate one for you, young men,’ alluding to

their being promoted in the event of a victory. A little before sunset

the _Euryalus_ communicated intelligence by telegraph[69] that ‘the

enemy appeared determined to go to the Westward.’ His Lordship, upon

this, ordered it to be signified to Captain Blackwood by signal, that

‘he depended on the _Euryalus_ for keeping sight of the enemy during

the night.’ The night signals were so clearly and distinctly arranged

by his Lordship, and so well understood by the respective Captains,

that the enemy’s motions continued to be known to him with the greatest

facility throughout the night: a certain number of guns with false fires and blue lights, announcing their course, wearing and making or shortening sail; and signals communicating such changes were repeated by the look-out ships, from the _Euryalus_ to the _Victory_.”