THE TRAFALGAR CAMPAIGN—CONCLUDED.
JANUARY—OCTOBER, 1805.
SUCCESSIVE MODIFICATIONS OF NAPOLEON'S PLAN.—NARRATIVE OF NAVAL
MOVEMENTS.—FINAL FAILURE OF NAPOLEON'S NAVAL COMBINATIONS.—WAR WITH
AUSTRIA, AND BATTLE OF AUSTERLITZ.—BATTLE OF TRAFALGAR.—VITAL CHANGE
IMPOSED UPON NAPOLEON'S POLICY BY THE RESULT OF THE NAVAL CAMPAIGN.
The Spanish declaration of war was followed by a new treaty of alliance
with France, signed in Paris on the 5th of January, 1805, and confirmed
on the 18th of the month at Madrid. Spain undertook to furnish, by
March 21, to the common cause, at least twenty-five ships-of-the-line
and eleven frigates; but the military direction of the whole allied
effort was entrusted to Napoleon.
This accession of Spain could not become immediately operative, owing
to the backward state of her armaments caused by the previous demands
of Great Britain. The emperor therefore adhered for the time to his
existing plans, formulated on the 27th and 29th of September. These
proving abortive, he next framed, upon lines equal both in boldness and
scope to those of the Marengo and Austerlitz campaigns, the immense
combination which resulted in Trafalgar.
The events of the ten following months, therefore, have an interest
wholly unique, as the development of the only great naval campaign ever
planned by this foremost captain of modern times. From his opponents,
also, upon whom was thrown the harder task of the defensive,
was elicited an exhibition of insight, combination, promptitude,
and decision, which showed them to be, on their own element, not
unworthy to match with the great emperor. For Napoleon was at this
disadvantage,—he could not fully realize the conditions of the sea.
Accustomed by forethought and sheer will to trample obstacles under
foot, remembering the midwinter passage of the Splugen made by
Macdonald at his command, and the extraordinary impediments overcome
by himself in crossing the Saint Bernard, he could not believe that
the difficulties of the sea could not be vanquished by unskilled men
handling the ponderous machines entrusted to them, when confronted
by a skilful enemy. To quote an able French writer: "But one thing
was wanting to the victor of Austerlitz,—_le sentiment exact des
difficultés de la marine_."[159]
With steam, possibly, this inequality of skill might have been so
reduced as to enable the generalship of Napoleon, having also the
advantage of the initiative, to turn the scale. With sailing ships
it was not so; and in following the story of Trafalgar it must be
remembered that the naval superiority of Great Britain lay not in
the number of her ships, but in the wisdom, energy, and tenacity
of her admirals and seamen. At best her numbers were but equal to
those arrayed against her. The real contest was between the naval
combinations of Napoleon and the insight of British officers, avoiding
or remedying the ex-centric movements he untiringly sought to impress
upon their forces.
In December detailed instructions for executing the plan of September
29 were issued to Admirals Villeneuve and Missiessy.[160] The latter,
after leaving Rochefort, was to steer between the Azores and Canaries,
so as to avoid the British squadrons off the Biscay coast of Spain,
go direct to Martinique, take the British islands Santa Lucia and
Dominica, and upon Villeneuve's arrival place himself under his
command. In pursuance of these orders Missiessy escaped from Rochefort
on January 11. He was seen next day by a lookout vessel belonging to
the blockading squadron; but the latter, for whatever reason, was
off its post, and Missiessy reached Martinique safely on the 20th of
February. On the 24th of that month six British ships-of-the-line,
under Rear-Admiral Cochrane, sailed in pursuit from before Ferrol;
where their place was taken by a detachment of equal force drawn from
before Brest.
Villeneuve's orders were to go from Toulon direct to Cayenne, recapture
the former Dutch colonies of Guiana, form a junction with Missiessy,
re-enforce San Domingo, and start on his return for Europe not later
than sixty days after reaching South America. With the combined
squadrons he was to appear off Ferrol, release the French ships there
blockaded, and bring the whole force, amounting to twenty of the line,
to Rochefort. "The result of your cruise," wrote Napoleon to him, "will
be to secure our colonies against any attack, and to retake the four
Dutch colonies on the Continent, as well as such other British islands
as may appear open to the force under your command." Six thousand
troops were embarked on board his squadron for the operations on shore.
Both he and Missiessy were expressly forbidden to land their crews for
that purpose; a decision of the great emperor worthy to be remembered
in these days.
Villeneuve was ready to sail early in January, but his first need was
to elude the watchfulness of Nelson. The British admiral was known to
move from point to point in his command, between the Maddalena Islands
and Cape San Sebastian on the Spanish coast, while he kept before
Toulon lookout ships always informed of his whereabouts. Villeneuve
therefore thought indispensable to start with a breeze strong enough
to carry him a hundred miles the first night. For a fortnight the wind
hung at north-east and south-east—fair but very light; but on the 17th
of January it shifted to north-west, with signs of an approaching gale.
The next morning Villeneuve sent a division to drive off the enemy's
lookouts; and when these disappeared the squadron sailed, numbering ten
of the line and seven frigates. Nelson with eleven ships-of-the-line
was at the moment at anchor in Maddalena Bay.
Following Napoleon's plan for deceiving the British admiral, the
French squadron steered for the south end of Sardinia, as though bound
eastward. During the night it was dogged by the enemy's frigates, which
had retired no further than was necessary to avoid capture. At ten
o'clock they were close by; and at two in the morning, satisfied as
to the French course, they parted company and hastened to Nelson,—the
wind then blowing a whole gale from the north-west. Twelve hours later
they were seen from the flag-ship with the signal flying that the
enemy was at sea, and in two hours more the British fleet was under
way. Unable to beat out by the western entrance in the teeth of the
storm, it ran in single column through the narrow eastern pass as night
fell,—Nelson's ship leading, the others steering by the poop lanterns
of the vessel next ahead. When clear of the port the fleet hauled up to
the southward, and during the night, which was unsettled and squally,
kept along the east coast of Sardinia. The frigate "Seahorse" was sent
ahead to pass round the south end of the island and get touch again of
the enemy.
During the night the wind changed to south-south-west, and blew heavily
throughout the 21st. On the forenoon of the 22d the fleet, still
struggling against a heavy southwesterly gale, was fifty miles east of
the south end of Sardinia. There it was rejoined by the "Seahorse,"
which the day before had caught sight of a French frigate standing
in toward Cagliari, but had not seen the main body. Not till the 26th
did Nelson reach Cagliari, where to his relief he found the French had
not been. Nothing even was known of their movements; but the same day
the frigate "Phœbe" joined from the westward with news that a French
eighty-gun ship, partially dismasted, had put in to Ajaccio. The
British fleet then stretched across to Palermo, where it arrived on the
28th. Having now fairly covered the approaches from the westward to
Sardinia, Sicily, and Naples, Nelson reasoned that one of two things
must have happened: either the French, despite the southerly gale, had
succeeded in going east between Sicily and Africa, or they had put back
disabled. In the latter case he could not now overtake them; in the
former, he must follow.[161] Accordingly, after sending scouts to scour
the seas, and three frigates to resume the watch off Toulon, he shaped
his course along the north side of Sicily, and on the 30th of January
passed through the straits of Messina on his way to Egypt.
Villeneuve had in fact returned to Toulon. On the first night an
eighty-four-gun ship and three frigates separated, and the former put
in dismasted to Ajaccio, as Nelson had learned. The following day
and in the night, when the wind shifted to south-west, three more
ships-of-the-line were crippled. Forced to the eastward by the gale,
and aware that two enemy's frigates had marked his course, the admiral
feared that he should meet the British at a disadvantage and determined
to retreat.
Thus prematurely ended the first movement in Napoleon's naval
combination for the invasion of England. The Rochefort squadron had
escaped only to become a big detachment, wholly out of reach of support
or recall. The Toulon fleet, forced to await a heavy wind in order to
effect the evasion by which alone the combination could be formed, was
through the inexperience of its seamen crippled by the very advantage
it had secured. In truth, however, had it gone on, it would almost
infallibly have been driven by the south-west gale into the very spot,
between Sardinia and Sicily, where Nelson went to seek it, and which
was ransacked by his lookouts.[162] Neither Villeneuve nor Nelson
doubted the result of such meeting.[163]
The other factor in this combination, the Brest fleet and army corps
of twenty thousand men, had been held in readiness to act, dependent
upon the successful evasion of the two others. "I calculate," Napoleon
had said, "that the sailing of twenty ships from Rochefort and Toulon
will force the enemy to send thirty in pursuit;"[164] a diversion that
would very materially increase the chances for the Brest armament. For
a moment he spoke of sending to India this powerful body, strongly
re-enforced from the French and Spanish ships in Ferrol.[165] This was,
however, but a passing thought, rejected by his sound military instinct
as an ex-centric movement, disseminating his force and weakening the
purposed attack upon the heart of the British power. Three months
later, when he began to fear failure for the latter attempt, he
recurred to the East India project in terms which show why he at first
laid it aside. "In case, through any event whatsoever, our expedition
have not full success, and I cannot compass _the greatest of all ends,
which will cause all the rest to fall_,[166] I think we must calculate
the operation in India for September."[167] India in truth was to the
imagination of Napoleon what Egypt was to Nelson,—an object which
colored all his ideas and constantly misled him. As was shrewdly said
by an American citizen to the British government, in this very month
of January, 1805, "The French in general believe that the fountains of
British wealth are in India and China. They never appeared to me to
understand that the most abundant source is in her agriculture, her
manufactures, and the foreign demand."[168] This impression Napoleon
fully shared, and it greatly affected his judgment during the coming
campaign.
The return of Villeneuve and the delay necessary to repair his ships,
concurring with the expected re-enforcements from Spain, wholly changed
the details of Napoleon's plan. In essence it remained the same from
first to last; but the large number of ships now soon to be at his
command appealed powerfully to his love for great masses and wide
combinations. Now, also, Villeneuve could not reach the West Indies
before the sickly season.
The contemplated conquests in America, which had formed so important
a part of the first plan, were therefore laid aside, and so was also
the Irish expedition by Ganteaume's fleet. The concentration of naval
forces in the West Indies or at some point exterior to France became
now the great aim; and the sally of the various detachments, before
intended to favor the crossing of the flotilla by a diversion, was now
to be the direct means of covering it, by bringing them to the English
Channel and before Boulogne. The operations were to begin in March; and
urgent orders were sent to Spain to have the contingents in her several
ports ready to move at a moment's notice.
The situations of the squadrons in March, when the great Trafalgar
campaign opened, need to be stated. On the extreme right, in the Texel,
were nine ships-of-the-line with a due proportion of lighter vessels;
and some eighty transports lay ready to embark Marmont's army corps of
twenty-five thousand men.[169] The Boulogne flotilla was assembled;
the few detachments still absent being so near at hand that their
junction could be confidently expected before the appearance of the
covering fleet. The army, one hundred and thirty thousand strong, was
by frequent practice able to embark in two hours.[170] Two tides were
needed for all the boats to clear the ports; but as word of the fleet's
approach would precede its arrival, they could haul out betimes and
lie in the open sea, under the batteries, ready to start. In Brest,
Ganteaume had twenty-one ships-of-the-line. The Rochefort squadron was
now in the West Indies with Missiessy; but two more ships were ready
in that port and one in Lorient. In Ferrol were five French and ten
Spanish; of the latter it was expected that six or eight could sail in
March. In Cadiz the treaty called for twelve or fifteen to be ready at
the same time, but only six were then actually able to move. There was
also in Cadiz one French ship. In Cartagena were six Spaniards, which,
however, took no part in the campaign. At Toulon Villeneuve would have
eleven ships. All these were ships-of-the-line. The total available
at the opening of the campaign was therefore sixty-seven; but it will
be observed that they were disseminated in detachments, and that the
strategic problem was, first, to unite them in the face of an enemy
that controlled the communications, and, next, to bring them to the
strategic centre.
As in 1796, the declaration of Spain in 1805 added immensely to the
anxieties of Great Britain. Lord Melville, who succeeded St. Vincent
as First Lord in May, 1804, had at once contracted for several
ships-of-the-line to be built in private yards;[171] but these were not
yet ready. A somewhat singular expedient was then adopted to utilize
worn-out vessels, twelve of which were in February, 1805, cased with
two-inch oak plank, and with some additional bracing sent to sea. It is
said some of these bore a part in the battle of Trafalgar.[172]
The disposition and strength of the British detachments varied with the
movements of the enemy and with the increasing strength of their own
navy. Lord Keith, in the Downs with eleven small ships-of-the-line,
watched the Texel and the Straits of Dover. The Channel fleet under
Cornwallis held Brest under lock and key, with a force varying from
eleven, when the year began, to twenty or twenty-four in the following
April. This was the centre of the great British naval line. Off
Rochefort no squadron was kept after Missiessy's escape. In March
that event had simply transferred to the West Indies five French and
six British ships. Off Ferrol eight ships were watching the combined
fifteen in the port. In October, when the Spanish war was threatening,
a division of six was sent to blockade Cadiz. Nelson's command, which
had before extended to Cape Finisterre, was now confined to Gibraltar
as its western limit, and the Cadiz portion assigned to Sir John
Orde,—a step particularly invidious to Nelson, depriving him of the
most lucrative part of his station, in favor of one who was not only
his senior, with power to annoy him, but reputed to be his personal
enemy. Nelson had within the Straits twelve of the line, several of
which, however, were in bad condition; and one, kept permanently
at Naples for political reasons, was useless to him. Two others
were on their way to join, but did not arrive before the campaign
opened. It may be added that there were in India from eight to ten
ships-of-the-line, and in the West Indies four, which Cochrane's
arrival would raise to ten.[173]
On the 2d of March Napoleon issued specific orders for the campaign
to Villeneuve and Ganteaume. The latter, who was to command-in-chief
after the junction, was directed to sail at the first moment possible
with his twenty-one ships, carrying besides their crews thirty-six
hundred troops. He was to go first to Ferrol, destroy or drive off the
blockading squadron, and be joined by the French and Spanish ships
there ready; thence by the shortest route to Martinique, where he
was to be met by Villeneuve and, it was hoped, by Missiessy also. If
Villeneuve did not at once appear, he was to be awaited at least thirty
days. When united, the whole force, amounting to over forty of the
line, would, to avoid detection, steer for the Channel by an unusual
route and proceed direct to Boulogne, where the emperor expected it
between June 10 and July 10. If by Villeneuve's not coming, or other
cause, Ganteaume found himself with less than twenty-five ships, he
was to go to Ferrol; where it would be the emperor's care to assemble
a re-enforcement. He might, however, even with so small a number, move
straight on Boulogne if he thought advisable.[174]
Villeneuve's orders were to sail at the earliest date for Cadiz, where
he was not to enter but be joined outside by the ships then ready.
From Cadiz he was to go to Martinique, and there wait forty days for
Ganteaume. If the latter did not then appear he was to call at San
Domingo, land some troops and thence go to the Bay of Santiago in the
Canary Islands,[175] where he would cruise twenty days. This provided a
second rendezvous where Ganteaume could join, if unexpectedly delayed
in Brest. The emperor, like all French rulers, did not wish to risk
his fleet in battle with nearly equal forces. Whatever the result,
his combinations would suffer. "I prefer," said he, "the rendezvous
at Martinique to any other; but I also prefer Santiago to a junction
before Brest, by raising the blockade, in order to avoid fighting of
any kind."[176] When Ganteaume, at a most critical instant, only six
days before Villeneuve got away, reported that he was ready,—that
there were but fifteen British ships in the offing and success was
sure,—Napoleon replied: "A naval victory now would lead to nothing.
Have but one aim,—to fulfil your mission. Sail without fighting."[177]
So to the old delusion of ulterior objects was sacrificed the one
chance for compassing the junction essential to success. By April 1 the
British fleet off Brest was increased to twenty-one sail.
Meanwhile Nelson had returned from his fruitless search at Alexandria,
and on the 13th of March again appeared off Toulon. Thence he went
to Cape San Sebastian, showing his ships off Barcelona to convince
the enemy he was fixed on the coast of Spain; reasoning that if they
thought him to the westward they would more readily start for Egypt,
which he still believed to be their aim. He had by his communications
with Alexandria learned the distracted state of that country since the
destruction of the Mameluke power and its restoration to the Turks, and
reported that the French could easily hold it, if they once effected a
lodgment.[178] From Cape San Sebastian the fleet next went to the Gulf
of Palmas, a convenient roadstead in the south of Sardinia, to fill
with provisions from transports lately arrived. It anchored there on
the 26th of March, but was again at sea when, at 8 A. M. of April 4,
being then twenty miles west of the Gulf, a frigate brought word of
the second sailing of the Toulon fleet. When last seen, in the evening
of March 31, it was sixty miles south of Toulon, steering south with a
north-west wind. One of the pair of lookouts was then sent to Nelson;
and the other, losing sight of the enemy during the night, joined him
a few hours after the first. The only clue she could give was that,
having herself steered south-west with a wind from west-north-west, the
enemy had probably kept on south or borne away to the eastward. Nelson,
therefore, took the fleet midway between Sardinia and the African
coast, scattering lookout ships along the line between these two
points.[179] He was thus centrally placed to cover everything east of
Sardinia, and with means of speedy information if the French attempted
to pass, at any point, the line occupied by him.
Villeneuve had indeed headed as reported by the British frigates,
swayed by Nelson's ruse in appearing off Barcelona.[180] Believing
the enemy off Cape San Sebastian, he meant to go east of the Balearic
Islands. The next day, April 1; a neutral ship informed him that it
had seen the British fleet south of Sardinia. The wind fortunately
hauling to the eastward, Villeneuve changed his course to pass north
of the Balearics; and on the 6th of April, when Nelson was watching
for him between Sardinia and Africa, he appeared off Cartagena. The
Spanish division there declined to join him, having no instructions
from its government; and the French fleet, continuing at once with a
fresh easterly wind, passed Gibraltar on the 8th. On the 9th it reached
Cadiz, driving away Orde's squadron. Following his orders strictly,
Villeneuve anchored outside the port; and was there at once joined by
the French seventy-four "l'Aigle," and six Spanish ships. During the
night the combined force of eighteen of the line sailed for Martinique,
where it anchored May 14, after a passage of thirty-four days. Some
Spanish ships separated the day after sailing; but, having sealed
instructions giving the rendezvous, they arrived only two days later
than the main body.
This sortie of Villeneuve had so far been exceptionally happy. By a
mere accident he had learned Nelson's position, while that admiral was
misled by what seems to have been bad management on the part of his
carefully placed lookouts. Nelson was not prone to blame subordinates,
but he apparently felt he had not been well served in this case. Not
till April 16, when Villeneuve was already six days on his way from
Cadiz, did he learn from a passing ship that nine days before the
French were seen off Cape de Gata, on the coast of Spain, steering
westward with an east wind, evidently bound to the Atlantic. To this
piece of great good luck Villeneuve's fortune added another. While
he carried an east wind with him till clear of the Straits, Nelson,
from the 4th of April to the 19th, had a succession of strong westerly
gales. "We have been nine days coming two hundred miles," he wrote.
"For a whole month we have had nothing like a Levanter except for
the French fleet."[181] Not till May 6, after a resolute struggle of
over three weeks against contrary fortune, did he anchor his fleet in
Gibraltar Bay. Five days later he was on his way to the West Indies.
But while the escape from Toulon showed the impossibility of securing
every naval detachment of the enemy, the events elsewhere happening
proved the extreme difficulty of so timing the evasions as to effect a
great combination. While Villeneuve with eighteen ships was hastening
to the West Indies, Missiessy,[182] with five others, having very
imperfectly fulfilled his mission to annoy the enemy's islands, was
speeding back to Rochefort, where orders at once to retrace his steps
were waiting. At the same time Ganteaume with his twenty-one was
hopelessly locked in Brest. Amid all the difficulties of their task,
the British fleets, sticking close to the French arsenals, not only
tempered their efficiency for war to the utmost toughness, but reaped
also the advantages inseparable from interior positions.
The better to divert attention from his real designs, Napoleon took
the time appointed for his squadrons' sailing to visit Italy. Leaving
Paris April 1, and journeying leisurely, he was in Alessandria on the
first of May and in Milan on the 10th. There he remained a month, and
was on the 26th crowned king of the late Italian Republic. His stay in
Italy was prolonged to July. It is probably to this carefully timed
absence that we owe the full and invaluable record of his hopes and
fears, of the naval combinations which chased each other through his
tireless mind, of the calculations and surmises—true or false, but
always ingenious—which are contained in his almost daily letters to the
Minister of Marine.
Prominent among his preoccupations were the detention of
Ganteaume,—who, "hermetically blockaded and thwarted by constant
calms,"[183] could not get away,—and the whereabouts of Nelson, who
disappeared from his sight as entirely, and from his knowledge far more
completely, than Villeneuve did from the British ken. "In God's name!
hurry my Brest squadron away, that it may have time to join Villeneuve.
Nelson has been again deceived and gone to Egypt. Villeneuve was out of
sight on the 10th of April. Send him word that Nelson is seeking him in
Egypt; I have sent the same news to Ganteaume by a courier. God grant,
however, that he may not find him in Brest."[184] On the 15th of April
Ganteaume did make an attempt. The British fleet had been driven off
by a gale on the 11th, but reappeared on the 13th. On the afternoon
of the 14th word was brought to Admiral Gardner, who had temporarily
relieved Cornwallis, that the French were getting under way. The next
day they came out; but the enemy now numbered twenty-four sail to their
twenty-one, and after a demonstration they retired within the port.
As the advancing season gave less and less hope of the blockade
relaxing, Napoleon formed a new combination. Two ships-of-the-line,
now nearly ready at Rochefort, should sail under Rear-Admiral Magon,
carrying modified instructions to Villeneuve. The latter was now
commanded to wait thirty-five days after Magon's arrival, and then, if
Ganteaume had not appeared, return direct to Ferrol, discarding the
alternative rendezvous of Santiago. At Ferrol he would find fifteen
French and Spanish ships, making with his own and Magon's a total of
thirty-five. With these he was to appear before Brest, where Ganteaume
would join him, and with the combined force of fifty-six of the line at
once enter the Channel. Magon sailed with these orders early in May,
and on June 4 reached Villeneuve just in time to insure the direction
given by the latter to his fleet upon its return. To facilitate the
junction at Brest very heavy batteries were thrown up, covering the
anchorage outside the Goulet; and there, in May, Ganteaume took up his
position, covered by one hundred and fifty guns on shore.
It will be recognized that the emperor's plan, while retaining its
essential features, had now undergone a most important modification,
due to the closeness of the British blockade of Brest. A combination
of his squadrons still remained the key-stone of the fabric; but the
tenacity with which the largest of his detachments was held in check
had forced him to accept—what he had rejected as least advantageous—a
concentration in the Bay of Biscay, the great hive where swarmed the
British navy.
It became therefore more than ever desirable to divert as many as
possible of the enemy's cruisers from those waters; an object which
now continuously occupied Napoleon's mind and curiously tinged his
calculations with the color of his hopes. In defiance of statistics,
he thought the East Indies, as has before been said, the first of
British interests. He sought therefore to raise alarms about India,
and persisted in believing that every division sailing from England
was bound there. "Cochrane," he writes on April 13, "was before Lisbon
on March 4. He must first have gone to the Cape de Verde, thence to
Madeira, and if he gets no information he will go to India. That is
what any admiral of sense would do in his case."[185] On the 10th
of May, when Cochrane had been over a month in the West Indies,
he reiterates this opinion, and at the same time conjectures that
five thousand troops which sailed from England on the 15th of April
with most secret orders were gone to the Cape of Good Hope. "Fears
of Villeneuve's meeting this expedition will force them to send
more ships to India."[186] On the 31st of May he guesses that eight
ships-of-the-line, which sailed ten days before under Collingwood, were
bound to India,[187] and a week later repeats the surmise emphatically:
"The responsibility of the ministers is so great they cannot but send
him to the East Indies."[188] On the 9th of June he writes: "Everything
leads me to believe the English sent fifteen ships to the East Indies,
when they learned that Cochrane reached Barbadoes a fortnight after
Missiessy sailed; and in that case it is quite possible Nelson has
been sent to America."[189] This opinion is repeated on the 13th and
14th; and on the 28th, as the veil was about to fall from his eyes,
he sums up the acute reasoning which, starting from a false premise,
had so misled him: "It is difficult to believe that without any news
the English have sent seventeen ships-of-the-line (i. e. Nelson and
Collingwood combined) to the West Indies, when Nelson, joining his ten
to Cochrane's six, and three at Jamaica, would have nineteen—superior
to our squadron; while Collingwood going to the East Indies with eight
and finding there nine, in all seventeen, also superior to us—it is
difficult, I say, to believe that the enemy, with the chance of being
everywhere superior, should blindly abandon the East Indies."[190]
Some French writers,[191] as well as some English, have disparaged the
insight of Nelson, comparing him unfavorably with Napoleon, and basing
their estimate largely upon his error in esteeming Egypt the aim of the
French. In view of the foregoing extracts, and of other miscalculations
made by the emperor during this remarkable campaign—which will appear
farther on—it must be admitted that when in the dark, without good
information, both were forced to inferences, more or less acute,
but which, resting on no solid data, rose, as Nelson said, little
above guesses. So also Collingwood has been credited with completely
unravelling Napoleon's plan, and his penetration has been exalted above
Nelson's because, _after_ the latter's return from chasing Villeneuve
to the West Indies, he wrote that the flight there was to take off the
British naval force; overlooking his conjecture, two lines before, that
(not England, but) "Ireland is the real mark and butt of all these
operations." Rather might each adopt for himself Napoleon's own words,
"I have so often in my life been mistaken that I no longer blush for
it."[192] When his frigates lost sight of Villeneuve, on the night
of March 31, Nelson went neither east nor west; he concentrated his
force to cover what he thought the most likely objects of the enemy,
and awaited information as to his movements. "I shall neither go to
the eastward of Sicily nor to the westward of Sardinia until I know
something positive."[193] It can be confidently said that under like
conditions Napoleon would have done the same.
The fault of Napoleon's calculations was in over-estimating both the
importance and the danger of India, and also in not allowing for
the insight and information of the British government. He himself
laid down, with his peculiarly sound judgment, the lines it ought to
follow: "If I had been in the British Admiralty, I would have sent
a light squadron to the East and West Indies, and formed a strong
fleet of twenty of the line which I would not have dispatched until I
knew Villeneuve's destination."[194] This was just what the Admiralty
did. A light squadron was on its way to India, and eight ships were
ordered to the West Indies under Collingwood; but that able officer,
finding Nelson had started, contented himself with sending two to
re-enforce him, and took up his own position with six before Cadiz,
thus blocking the junction of the Cartagena ships. The strong body
of twenty was kept before Brest, much to Napoleon's annoyance. "If
England realizes the serious game she is playing, she ought to raise
the blockade of Brest."[195] But here, as with regard to the Indian
expeditions, Napoleon's thought was fathered by his wish. To weaken the
Brest blockade, as he confessed a little later, was the great point for
France.[196]
Nothing in fact is more noteworthy, nor more creditable, than the
intelligence and steadiness with which the British naval authorities
resisted Napoleon's efforts to lead them into ex-centric movements.
This was partly due to an accurate judgment of the worth of the
enemy's detached squadrons, partly to an intuitive sense of the supreme
importance of the Biscay positions, and partly to information much
more accurate than Napoleon imagined, or than he himself received in
naval transactions. "Those boasted English," jeered he, when he thought
them ignorant of Villeneuve's second sailing, "who claim to know of
everything, who have agents everywhere, couriers booted and spurred
everywhere, knew nothing of it."[197] Yet, by a singular coincidence,
on the very day, April 25, that they were supposed thus deceived, the
Admiralty were hurrying letters to Nelson and to the West Indies with
the important tidings. "You reason," wrote he to Decrès, "as if the
enemy were in the secret."[198] This is just what they were,—not as
to all details, but as to the main features of his plans. While the
emperor was wildly reckoning on imaginary squadrons hastening to India,
and guessing where Nelson was, both the latter and his government knew
where Villeneuve had gone, and the British admiral was already in the
West Indies. About the beginning of May it was known in England not
only that the Toulon fleet had sailed, but whither it was bound;[199]
and about the first of June, despite the cautions about secrecy
imposed by Bonaparte, the British were informed by a prisoner that
"the combined fleet, of sixty sail-of-the-line, will fight our fleet
(_balayer la Manche_), while the large frigates will come up channel
to convoy the flotilla over. The troops are impatiently awaiting the
appearance of the ships to set them free."[200]
The Admiralty therefore understood as well as did Napoleon that the
crucial necessity in their dispositions was to prevent the combination
of the enemy's squadrons, and that the chief scene of operations
would be the Bay of Biscay and the approaches to the Channel. They
contented themselves, consequently, with strengthening the force
there, and keeping before Cadiz alone a detachment under Collingwood,
lest a concentration in that port should compel them to weaken the
Biscay squadrons. At the time Villeneuve sailed, an expedition of five
thousand troops, whose destination was kept profoundly secret, was
ready to start for the Mediterranean. This re-enforcement secured the
naval bases of Gibraltar and Malta, and the Mediterranean otherwise was
abandoned to frigates, supported by two or three ships-of-the-line.
Herein also the practice of the Admiralty agreed with the precept of
Napoleon. "The Mediterranean," wrote he on June 7 to his Minister of
Marine, "is now nothing. I would rather see there two of Villeneuve's
ships than forty;" and he added the pregnant counsel, which was
exemplified by the British action, "It seems to me your purpose is _not
exclusive enough_ for a great operation. You must correct this fault,
for that is the art of great successes and of great operations."
The secret expedition was met by Nelson just as he started for the
West Indies. During his heavy beat down the Mediterranean he too, as
carefully as Napoleon, had been studying the field on which he was to
act; but while the one planned with all the freedom and certainty of an
offensive, which, disposing of large means, moves upon a known object,
the other, though in a restricted sphere, underwent the embarrassments
of the defensive, ignorant where the blow was to fall. One clear light,
however, shone step by step on his path,—wherever the French fleet was
gone there should he go also.
The west wind which delayed his progress brought swiftly to him, on
April 19, a vessel[201] from Gibraltar, with word that, two hours
after Villeneuve passed the Straits, a frigate had started for England
with the news, and that the French and Spaniards had sailed together
from Cadiz. From this circumstance he reasoned, accurately, that the
destination was the British Islands;[202] but he did not penetrate the
deep design of a concentration in the West Indies. He therefore sent
the frigate "Amazon" ahead of the fleet to Lisbon, to gather news and
rejoin him off Cape St. Vincent; and by her he wrote the Admiralty,
and also to the admirals off Brest and in Ireland, that he should take
position fifty leagues west of the Scilly Islands, and thence steer
slowly toward them. To any person who will plot this position on a map
it will be apparent that, with winds prevailing from the westward, he
would there be, as he said, equally well situated to reach Brest or
Ireland; in short, in an excellent strategic position known to the
authorities at home.
Stopping but four hours at Gibraltar on May 6, on the 9th he was off
Cape St. Vincent, and there received news that the combined squadrons,
to the number of eighteen of the line, had gone to the West Indies. His
concern was great, for he fully understood the value of those islands.
He had served there, knew them intimately, and had married there. Not a
year before he had written, "If our islands should fall, England would
be so clamorous for peace that we should humble ourselves."[203] Still,
with all his anxiety, he kept his head. The convoy of troops was close
at hand, he must provide for its safety. On the 11th of May it arrived,
Nelson's fleet being then under way. To the two ships-of-the-line
guarding it he added a third, the "Royal Sovereign," whose bad sailing
delayed him; and to this circumstance it was owing that that ship,
newly coppered, bore Collingwood's flag far in advance of either
British column into the fire at Trafalgar. Three hours after the
convoy's junction, at 7 P. M.of May 11, Nelson with ten ships was on
his way to the West Indies, to seek eighteen which had thirty-one days'
start.
On the 4th of June the British fleet, having gained eight days on
the allies, anchored at Barbadoes, where it found Cochrane with two
sail-of-the-line. The same day Magon with his two joined Villeneuve.
In the three weeks the latter had now been in Martinique he had
accomplished nothing but the capture of Diamond Rock, a small islet
detached from the main island, which the British held and from which
they annoyed the coasters. A frigate outstripping Magon had brought
pressing orders to make conquests in the British possessions, during
the thirty-five days of waiting for Ganteaume. In consequence, when
Magon joined, the fleet was under way, standing north to clear the
islands before making the stretch to the southward, and to windward, to
reach Barbadoes; which Villeneuve had selected as his first point of
attack.
On the 4th of June, therefore, the two hostile fleets were but a
hundred miles apart, the distance separating Barbadoes from Martinique.
Most singularly, at the very moment Villeneuve started north to return
upon Barbadoes, false news, too plausible to be slighted, induced
Nelson to go south. Positive information was sent by the officer
commanding at Santa Lucia that the allies had been seen from there,
May 29, steering south. Nelson anchored at Barbadoes at 5 P. M. June
4, embarked two thousand troops during the night, and at 10 A. M. next
day made sail for the southward. On the 6th he passed Tobago, which
was reported safe, and on the 7th anchored off Trinidad; where to the
astonishment of every one nothing had been heard of the enemy. Cursing
the news which had forced him to disregard his own judgment, when only
a hundred miles of fair wind severed him from his prey, Nelson turned
upon his tracks and steered for Martinique, tortured with fears for
Jamaica and every exposed British possession.
On the 8th of June, when Nelson left Trinidad, the combined fleets were
nearly four hundred miles from him, off the west side of Antigua. Here
they captured fourteen merchant ships which had imprudently left port,
and by them were informed that Nelson with fourteen ships (instead
of ten) had reached Barbadoes. To these fourteen, Villeneuve, whose
information was poor, added five as the force of Cochrane, making
nineteen to his eighteen. Supposing therefore the enemy to be superior,
not only in quality, which he conceded, but in numbers also, he
decided, in view of so unexpected an event as the arrival on the scene
of the greatest British admiral, to return at once to Europe. In this
he doubtless met the wishes of Napoleon. "I think," said the latter,
ere he knew the fact, "that the arrival of Nelson may lead Villeneuve
to return to Europe;"[204] and he argued, still seeing things as he
wished,—certainly not as a seaman would,—"When Nelson learns Villeneuve
has left the Windward Islands, he will go to Jamaica,"[205] a thousand
miles to leeward. "So far from being infallible like the Pope," wrote
Nelson at the same moment, "I believe my opinions to be very fallible,
and therefore I may be mistaken that the enemy's fleet is gone to
Europe; but I cannot bring myself to think otherwise."[206] Then,
having given his reasons, he seems to dive into Napoleon's mind and
read his thoughts. "The enemy will not give me credit for quitting the
West Indies for this month to come."[207]
Villeneuve also doubtless hoped to shake off his pursuer by his sudden
change of purpose. Transferring troops necessary to garrison the French
islands to four frigates, he directed the latter to land them at
Guadaloupe and rejoin him off the Azores,—a mistaken rendezvous, which
materially lengthened his backward voyage. The combined fleet then made
sail on the 9th of June to the northward, to reach the westerly winds
that favor the passage to Europe.
Three days later Nelson also was off Antigua, and convinced himself
that the allies were bound back to Europe. With the tireless energy
that brooked no rest when once resolve was formed, the night was passed
transferring the troops which but one week before he had embarked at
Barbadoes. But not even a night's delay was allowed in sending news to
Europe. At 8 P. M. he hurried off the brig "Curieux" with dispatches
to the Admiralty, which the captain, Bettesworth, was to deliver in
person; a momentous action, and one fraught with decisive consequences
to the campaign, although somewhat marred by an overcautious admiral.
On the 13th, at noon, the fleet itself, accompanied by one of
Cochrane's two ships, the "Spartiate," sailed for the Straits of
Gibraltar; but Nelson, uncertain as to the enemy's destination, also
sent word to the officer commanding off Ferrol,[208] lest he might be
taken unawares.
Although Villeneuve's decision to return was fortunate and
characterized by the extraordinary good luck which upon the whole had
so far attended him, it is evident that he ran the chance of crossing
Ganteaume on the Atlantic, as he himself had been crossed by Missiessy.
Napoleon had taken precautions to insure both his waiting long enough,
and also his return in case Ganteaume could not get away by a certain
time; but not having foreseen, nor until June 28[209] even known,
Nelson's pursuit of Villeneuve, he could not anticipate the course of
the latter in such a contingency, nor combine with it the action of the
Brest fleet.
Ganteaume, however, was not able to elude Lord Gardner, and on the
8th of May the emperor, having received in Italy the news of Magon's
sailing, gave his final decision. If before midnight of May 20 an
opportunity offered, the Brest fleet should start; but from daybreak
of the 21st, had it every chance in the world, it should stand fast. A
frigate was to be kept ready to sail the instant the latter condition
took effect, carrying to Villeneuve orders for his action upon reaching
Ferrol. This frigate did sail May 21, but of course did not find the
admiral in the West Indies. Duplicate instructions were sent to Ferrol.
Villeneuve was by them informed that he would in Ferrol find ready for
sea five French and nine Spanish ships, which, with those already under
his orders, would make a force of thirty-four sail-of-the-line. In the
roads off Rochefort would be five more. At Brest twenty-one ships were
lying outside the Goulet, under the protection of one hundred and fifty
cannon, ready to get under way at a moment's notice. The great point
was to concentrate these three masses, or as much of them as possible,
off Boulogne. Three courses were open to him. If the squadron at Ferrol
could not leave the port when he appeared, on account of head winds, he
should order it to join him at Rochefort and go there at once himself.
Thence with forty ships he should proceed off Brest, join Ganteaume,
and at once enter the Channel. If, however, the wind was fair for
leaving Ferrol, that is, southerly, he would see in that a reason for
hastening to Brest, without stopping for the Rochefort squadron; the
more so as every delay would increase the British force before Brest.
Thirdly, he might possibly, as he drew toward Ushant, find the winds so
fair as to give the hope of getting to Boulogne with his thirty-five
ships three or four days before the enemy's fleet at Brest could
follow. If so, it was left to his discretion to embrace so favorable
an opportunity. To these three courses Napoleon added a fourth as a
possible alternative. After rallying the Ferrol ships he might pass
north of the British Islands, join the Dutch squadron of the Texel with
Marmont's corps there embarked, and with these appear off Boulogne.
The emperor, however, looked upon this rather as a last resort. A great
concentration in the Bay of Biscay was the one aim he now favored.
To facilitate this he busied himself much with the question of
diverting the enemy from that great centre of his operations. This it
was that made him so ready to believe that each squadron that sailed
was gone to the East Indies. If so, it was well removed from the Bay
of Biscay. For this he sought to get the Cartagena ships to Toulon
or to Cadiz. "If we can draw six English ships before each port," he
writes, "that will be a fine diversion for us; and if I can get the
Cartagena ships in Toulon I will threaten Egypt in so many ways that
they will be obliged to keep there an imposing force. They will believe
Villeneuve gone to the East Indies in concerted operation with the
Toulon squadron."[210] For this he purposes to send Missiessy to Cadiz.
In Rochefort that admiral will occupy a British detachment, but on the
spot where the emperor does not wish it; at Cadiz it will be remote
from the scene. But later on he says, "Perhaps the enemy, who are now
thoroughly frightened, will not be led away; in that case I shall have
dispersed my force uselessly."[211] Therefore he concludes to keep him
at Rochefort, where, if blockaded, he reduces the force either off
Ferrol or off Brest. If not blockaded, he is to go to sea, take a wide
sweep in the Atlantic, and appear off Ireland. The English will then
doubtless detach ships to seek him; but he will again disappear and
take position near Cape Finisterre, where he will be likely to meet
Villeneuve returning.[212] Finally, for the same reason, toward the end
of June he tries to create alarm about the Texel. Marmont is directed
to make demonstrations and even to embark his troops, while part of
the emperor's guard is moved to Utrecht. "This will lead the enemy to
weaken his fleet before Brest, which is the great point."[213]
All these movements were sound and wise; but the emperor made the
mistake of underestimating his enemy. "We have not to do," he said,
"with a far-sighted, but with a very proud government. What we are
doing is so simple that a government the least foresighted would not
have made war. For an instant they have feared for London; soon they
will be sending squadrons to the two Indies."[214]
The British government and the British Admiralty doubtless made
blunders; but barring the one great mistake, for which the previous
administration of St. Vincent was responsible, of allowing the material
of the navy to fall below the necessities of the moment, the Trafalgar
campaign was in its leading outlines well and adequately conceived, and
in its execution, as event succeeded event, ably and even brilliantly
directed. Adequate detachments were placed before each of the enemy's
minor arsenals, while the fleet before Brest constituted the great
central body upon which the several divisions might, and when necessity
arose, actually did fall back. Sudden disaster, or being beaten in
detail, thus became almost impossible. In the home ports was maintained
a well-proportioned reserve, large enough to replace ships disabled or
repairing, but not so large as seriously to weaken the force at sea.
As a rule the Admiralty successfully shunned the ex-centric movements
to which Napoleon would divert them, and clung steadfastly to that
close watch which St. Vincent had perfected, and which unquestionably
embodied the soundest strategic principles. Missiessy returned to
Rochefort on the 26th of May and was promptly blocked by a body of five
or six ships. As the force in Ferrol increased, by the preparation
of ships for sea, the opposing squadron of six or seven was raised
to ten, under Rear-Admiral Calder. Before Brest were from twenty to
twenty-five, to whose command Admiral Cornwallis returned early in
July, after a three months' sick leave. Collingwood with half a dozen
was before Cadiz, where he effectually prevented a concentration,
which, by its distance from the scene of action, would have seriously
embarrassed the British navy. Such was the situation when Villeneuve
and Nelson, in June and July, were re-crossing the Atlantic, heading,
the one for Ferrol, the other for the Straits; and when the crisis, to
which all the previous movements had been leading, was approaching its
culmination.
When Nelson started back for Europe, although convinced the French
were thither bound, he had no absolute certainty of the fact.[215]
For his decision he relied upon his own judgment. In dispatching the
"Curieux" the night before he himself sailed, he directed her captain
to steer a certain course, by following which he believed he would fall
in with the allied fleet.[216] Accordingly the "Curieux" did, on the
19th of June, sight the enemy in latitude 33° 12' north and longitude
58° west, nine hundred miles north-north-east from Antigua, standing
north-north-west. The same day Nelson himself learned from an American
schooner that a fleet of about twenty-two large ships of war had been
seen by it on the 15th, three hundred and fifty miles south of the
position in which Bettesworth saw it four days later.
Bettesworth fully understood the importance of the knowledge thus
gained. The precise destination of the enemy did not certainly appear,
but there could be no doubt that he was returning to Europe. With that
intelligence, and the information concerning Nelson's purposes, it
was urgent to reach England speedily. Carrying a press of sail, the
"Curieux" anchored at Plymouth on the 7th of July. The captain posted
at once to London, arriving the evening of the 8th, at eleven. The head
of the Admiralty at that time was Lord Barham, an aged naval officer,
who had been unexpectedly called to the office two months before, in
consequence of the impeachment of Lord Melville, the successor to St.
Vincent. It was fortunate for Great Britain that the direction of naval
operations at so critical a moment was in the hands of a man, who,
though over eighty and long a stranger to active service, understood
intuitively, and without need of explanation, the various conditions
of weather and service likely to affect the movements of the scattered
detachments, British and hostile, upon whose rapid combinations so much
now depended.
Barham having gone to bed, Bettesworth's dispatches were not given him
till early next morning. As soon as he got them he exclaimed angrily
at the loss of so many precious hours; and, without waiting to dress,
at once dictated orders with which, by 9 A. M. of the 9th, Admiralty
messengers were hurrying to Plymouth and Portsmouth. Cornwallis was
directed to raise the blockade at Rochefort, sending the five ships
composing it to Sir Robert Calder, then watching off Ferrol with ten;
and the latter was ordered, with the fifteen ships thus united under
his command, to cruise one hundred miles west of Cape Finisterre,
to intercept Villeneuve and forestall his junction with the Ferrol
squadron. With Nelson returning toward Cadiz, where he would find
Collingwood, and with Cornwallis off Brest, this disposition completed
the arrangements necessary to thwart the primary combinations of
the emperor, unknown to, but shrewdly surmised by, his opponents.
It realized for Ferrol that which Napoleon had indicated as the
proper course for the British fleet off Brest, in case it received
intelligence of Villeneuve's approach there,—to meet the enemy so far
at sea as to prevent the squadron in port from joining in the intended
battle.[217]
Fair winds favoring the quick, Cornwallis received his orders on the
11th; and on the 15th, eight days after the "Curieux" anchored in
Plymouth, the Rochefort ships joined Calder. The latter proceeded at
once to the post assigned him, where on the 19th he received through
Lisbon the tidings of Villeneuve's return sent by Nelson from the West
Indies. The same day Nelson himself, having outstripped the combined
fleets, anchored in Gibraltar. On the 22d the sudden lifting of a
dense fog revealed to each other the hostile squadrons of Calder and
Villeneuve; the British fifteen sail-of-the-line, the allies twenty.
The numbers of the latter were an unpleasant surprise to Calder, the
"Curieux" having reported them as only seventeen.[218]
It is difficult to praise too highly the prompt and decisive step taken
by Lord Barham, when so suddenly confronted with the dilemma of either
raising the blockade of Rochefort and Ferrol, or permitting Villeneuve
to proceed unmolested to his destination, whatever that might be. To
act instantly and rightly in so distressing a perplexity—to be able
to make so unhesitating a sacrifice of advantages long and rightly
cherished, in order to strike at once one of the two converging
detachments of an enemy—shows generalship of a high order. It may be
compared to Bonaparte's famous abandonment of the siege of Mantua in
1796, to throw himself upon the Austrian armies descending from the
Tyrol. In the hands of a more resolute or more capable admiral than
Calder, the campaign would probably have been settled off Finisterre.
Notice has been taken of Barham's good luck, in that the brilliant
period of Trafalgar fell within his nine months' tenure of office;[219]
but Great Britain might better be congratulated that so clear-headed a
man held the reins at so critical a moment.
The length of Villeneuve's passage, which so happily concurred to
assure the success of Barham's masterly move, was due not only to the
inferior seamanship of the allies, but also to the mistaken rendezvous
off the Azores,[220]—assigned by the French admiral when leaving the
West Indies. The westerly gales, which prevail in the North Atlantic,
blow during the summer from the south of west, west of the Azores, and
from the north of west when east of them. A fleet bound for a European
port north of the islands—as Ferrol is—should therefore so use the
south-west winds as to cross their meridian well to the northward.
Nelson himself sighted one of the group, though his destination was in
a lower latitude. In consequence of his mistake, Villeneuve was by the
north-west winds forced down on the coast of Portugal, where he met the
north-easters prevalent at that season, against which he was struggling
when encountered by Calder. This delay was therefore caused, not by bad
luck, but by bad management.
Napoleon himself was entirely misled by Barham's measures, whose
rapidity he himself could not have surpassed. He had left Turin on the
8th of July, and, travelling incessantly, reached Fontainebleau on the
evening of the 11th. About the 20th he appears to have received the
news brought ten days before by the "Curieux," and at the same time
that of the Rochefort blockade being raised.[221] Not till the 27th did
he learn that the British squadron off Ferrol had also disappeared,
after being joined by the Rochefort ships. "The 'Curieux' only reached
England on the 9th," he wrote to Decrès; "_the Admiralty could not
decide the movements of its squadrons in twenty-four hours_, yet the
Rochefort division disappeared on the 12th. On the 15th it joined that
off Ferrol, and the same day, or at latest the next, these fourteen
ships departed by orders given _prior to_ the arrival of the 'Curieux.'
What news had the English before the arrival of that brig? That the
French were at Martinique; that Nelson had then but nine ships. What
should they have done? I should not be surprised if they have sent
another squadron to strengthen Nelson, ... and that it is these
fourteen ships from before Ferrol they have sent to America."[222]
On the 2d of August the emperor set out for Boulogne, and there on
the 8th received news of Villeneuve's action with Calder and of his
subsequent entry into Ferrol. The fleets had fought on the afternoon of
July 22, and two Spanish ships-of-the-line had been taken. Night-fall
and fog parted the combatants; the obscurity being so great that the
allies did not know their loss till next day. One of the British ships
lost a foretopmast, and others suffered somewhat in their spars; but
these mishaps, though pleaded in Calder's defence, do not seem to have
been the chief reasons that deterred him from dogging the enemy till
he had brought him again to action. He was preoccupied with the care
of the prizes, a secondary matter, and with the thought of what would
happen in case the Ferrol and Rochefort squadrons sailed. "I could
not hope to succeed without receiving great damage; I had no friendly
port to go to, and had the Ferrol and Rochefort squadrons come out, I
must have fallen an easy prey. They might have gone to Ireland. Had I
been defeated it is impossible to say what the consequences might have
been."[223] In short, the British admiral had fallen into the error
against which Napoleon used to caution his generals. He had "made to
himself a picture," and allowed the impression produced by it to blind
him to the fact (if indeed he ever saw it) that he had before him the
largest and most important of the several detachments of the enemy,
that it was imperatively necessary not to permit it to escape unharmed,
and that at no future day could he be sure of bringing his own squadron
into play with such decisive effect. The wisdom of engaging at any
particular moment was a tactical question, to be determined by the
circumstances at the time; but the duty of keeping touch with the
enemy, so as to use promptly any opportunity offered, was a strategic
question, the answer to which admits of no doubt whatever. On the
evening of the 24th the wind was fair to carry him to the enemy, but he
parted from them. During the night it blew fresh; and on the morning
of the 25th, says a French authority, the fleet was without order,
several vessels had lost sails, and others sustained injuries to their
spars.[224] Calder, however, was not on hand.
It is related of Nelson that, on his return voyage from the West
Indies, he used to say to his captains, speaking of the fleet which
Calder allowed to escape, "If we meet them we shall find them not less
than eighteen, I rather think twenty, sail-of-the-line, and therefore
do not be surprised if I should not fall on them immediately; _we
won't part without a battle_. I will let them alone till we approach
the shores of Europe, _or they give me an advantage too tempting to be
resisted_."[225] And again, after reaching England, he found on the
23d of August great anxiety prevailing about Calder, who with eighteen
ships was then again cruising for Villeneuve, supposed to have been
re-enforced to twenty-eight by the Ferrol squadron. "I am no conjuror,"
he wrote, "but this I ventured without any fear, that if Calder got
fairly alongside their twenty-eight sail, by the time the enemy had
beat our fleet soundly, they would do us no harm this year."[226] These
two utterances of this consummate warrior sufficiently show how Calder
should have viewed his opportunity in July.
Villeneuve had no more wish to renew the action than had Calder.
Less even than that admiral could he rise to the height of risking a
detachment in order to secure the success of a great design. In the
eighteen ships left to him were over twelve hundred men so ill that
it was necessary to put them ashore. Constrained by the winds, he put
into Vigo on the 28th of July. Calder, on the other hand, having seen
his prizes so far north as to insure their safety, returned off Cape
Finisterre where he hoped to meet Nelson. Not finding him, he on the
29th resumed the blockade of Ferrol. On the 31st Villeneuve, leaving
three of his worst vessels in Vigo, sailed for Ferrol with fifteen
ships, of which two only were Spaniards. The fleet, having a strong
south-west gale, kept close along shore to avoid meeting Calder; but
the latter, having been blown off by the storm, was not in sight
when Villeneuve reached the harbor's mouth. The allied ships were
entering with a fair wind, when the French admiral received dispatches
forbidding him to anchor in Ferrol. If, from injuries received in
battle, or losses from any causes whatever, he was unable to carry out
the plan of entering the Channel, the emperor preferred that, after
rallying the Ferrol and Rochefort squadrons, he should go to Cadiz;
but, the Brest fleet being ready and the other preparations complete,
he hoped everything from the skill, zeal, and courage of Villeneuve.
"Make us masters of the Straits of Dover," he implored, "be it but for
four or five days."[227] Napoleon leaned on a broken reed. Forbidden
to enter Ferrol, Villeneuve took his ships into the adjacent harbor of
Coruña,[228] where he anchored August 1.
Thus was effected the junction which Calder had been expected to
prevent. His absence on the particular day may have been unavoidable;
but, if so, it does but emphasize his fault in losing sight of the
allies on the 24th of July, when he had a fair wind. Twenty-nine French
and Spanish ships were now concentrated at Ferrol. The popular outcry
was so great that he felt compelled to ask an enquiry. The Admiralty
having, by a movement both judiciously and promptly ordered, secured
a meeting with the enemy's force so far from Ferrol as to deprive it
of the support of the ships there, was justly incensed at the failure
to reap the full advantage. It therefore ordered a court-martial. The
trial was held the following December; and the admiral, while expressly
cleared of either cowardice or disaffection, was adjudged not to have
done his utmost to renew the engagement and to take or destroy every
ship of the enemy. His conduct was pronounced highly censurable, and he
was sentenced to be severely reprimanded.
This was after Trafalgar. The immediate result of the junction in
Ferrol was the abandonment of the blockade there. On the 2d of August
Calder sent five ships to resume the watch off Rochefort, whence the
French squadron had meantime escaped. Not till August 9 did he know of
Villeneuve's entrance into Ferrol. Having with him then but nine ships,
he fell back upon the main body before Brest, which he joined on the
14th,—Cornwallis then having under him seventeen ships, which Calder's
junction raised to twenty-six.
The next day, August 15, Nelson also joined the fleet. On the 25th of
July, a week after reaching Gibraltar, he had received the "Curieux's"
news. Obeying his constant rule to seek the French, he at once started
north with the eleven ships which had accompanied him from the West
Indies,—intending to go either to Ferrol, Brest, or Ireland, according
to the tidings which might reach him on the way. After communicating
with Cornwallis, he continued on to England with his own ship, the
"Victory," and one other whose condition required immediate repairs. On
the 18th he landed in Portsmouth, after an absence of over two years.
Cornwallis had now under his command a concentrated force of
thirty-four or thirty-five sail-of-the-line, all admirably seasoned
and disciplined. The allies had in Brest twenty-one, in Ferrol
twenty-nine; two great bodies, neither of which, however, was equal in
number, nor still less in quality, to his. Adrift somewhere on the sea
were the five French ships from Rochefort. For more than five months
these vessels, which sailed on the 17th of July, five days after the
blockading ships had left to join Calder, ranged the seas without
meeting an equal British division,—a circumstance which earned for them
from the French the name of "the Invisible Squadron." But, while thus
fortunately unseen by the enemy, Napoleon found it equally impossible
to bring them within the scope of his combinations;[229] and it may be
doubted whether commerce-destroying to the sum of two million dollars
compensated for the loss of so important a military factor.
The ships in Cadiz being blocked by Collingwood, and those in Cartagena
remaining always inert, the naval situation was now comparatively
simple. Cornwallis was superior to either of the enemy's detachments,
and he held an interior position. In case Villeneuve approached, it
was scarcely possible that the two hostile squadrons, dependent upon
the wind, which if fair for one would be foul to the other, could
unite before he had effectually crushed one of them. It ought to be
equally improbable, with proper lookouts, that Villeneuve could
elude the British fleet and gain so far the start of it as to cover
the Straits of Dover during the time required by Napoleon. In his
concentrated force and his interior position Cornwallis controlled the
issue,—barring of course those accidents which cannot be foreseen, and
which at times derange the best-laid plans.
Such was the situation when, on August 17, Cornwallis was informed
that Villeneuve had put to sea with, it was said, twenty-seven or
twenty-eight ships-of-the-line. He at once detached toward Ferrol Sir
Robert Calder with eighteen sail, keeping with himself sixteen. This
division of his fleet, which is condemned by the simplest and most
generally admitted principles of warfare, transferred to Villeneuve
all the advantage of central position and superior force, and was
stigmatized by Napoleon as a "glaring blunder." "What a chance," he
wrote, upon hearing it when all was over, "has Villeneuve missed. He
might, by coming upon Brest from a wide sweep to sea, have played
hide and seek with Calder and fallen upon Cornwallis; or else, with
his thirty ships have beaten Calder's twenty and gained a decided
preponderance."[230] This censure of both admirals was just.
While the British squadrons were concentrating in the Bay of Biscay,
and the happy insight and diligence of Nelson were bringing the
Mediterranean ships to the critical centre of action, Napoleon, from
the heights overlooking Boulogne, was eagerly awaiting news from
Villeneuve, and at the same time anxiously watching the signs of the
times on the Continent, where the sky was already dark with a gathering
storm. The encroachments which led to the second war with Great
Britain, in 1803, had excited no less distrust among the continental
powers, who were indeed more immediately and disastrously affected
by them; but none had then dared to move. The violation of German
neutrality in 1804, by the seizure of the Duc d'Enghien on the soil of
Baden, had caused a general indignation; which, on the part of Russia
and Austria, was quickened into a desire to act by his execution,
regarded by most as a judicial murder. Prussia shared the anger and
fears of the other powers, but not enough to decide her vacillating
government.
In this state of things the fall of the Addington ministry, and the
consequent vigor imparted to the foreign policy of Great Britain by
Pitt's second accession to power, led naturally to another coalition;
the centre of which, as ever, was found in London. The czar having
remonstrated vigorously, both with Napoleon and the German Diet, upon
the seizure of the Duc d'Enghien, a bitter correspondence had followed,
causing the rupture of diplomatic relations between France and Russia
in August, 1804. For similar reasons, and at the same time, the French
embassy to Sweden was recalled. Austria still temporized, though her
actions excited Napoleon's suspicions.
Early in 1805 the czar sent special envoys to London, to treat
concerning certain vast schemes for the reorganization of Europe in
the interests of general peace. The particular object was not reached;
but on the 11th of April a treaty between Great Britain and Russia was
signed, the two agreeing to promote a league among the powers to stop
further encroachments by Napoleon. Six weeks later the emperor was
crowned King of Italy, and in June Genoa was annexed to France. This
last act, contemplated by Napoleon for many years,[231] determined
Austria's accession to the treaty. By her signature, given August
9,[232] the third coalition was formed. Sweden became a party to it at
the same time, and Great Britain undertook to pay subsidies to all the
members.
The preparations of Austria, ever deliberate, could not escape
Napoleon's watchful eye. "All my news from Italy is warlike," he
writes, "and indeed Austria no longer observes any concealment."[233]
Yet, trusting to his enemy's slowness and his own readiness, he did
not lose hope. The position was precisely analogous to those military
situations in which he had so often snatched success from overwhelming
numbers, by rapidly throwing himself on one enemy before the other
could join. He might even yet deal his long cherished blow to Great
Britain, under which, if successful, Austria also would at once
succumb. On August 13, two days after learning of Villeneuve's entry
into Coruña, he instructs Talleyrand to notify the emperor that the
troops assembled in the Tyrol _must_ be withdrawn to Bohemia, leaving
him free to carry on his war with England undisturbed, or by November
he will be in Vienna.[234] Urgent messages are the same day sent to
Villeneuve to hasten and fulfil his mission, for time was pressing;
threatened by Austria and Great Britain, a blow must speedily be
struck. He is no longer ordered to refrain from fighting. On the
contrary, if superior to the British, counting two Spanish ships equal
to one French, he is to attack at all hazards.[235] "If with thirty
ships my admirals fear to attack twenty-four British, we may as well
give up all hope of a navy."[236]
On the 23d of August the emperor announces to Talleyrand his final
and momentous decision: "My squadron sailed August 14 from Ferrol
with thirty-four ships;[237] it had no enemy in sight. If it follows
my instructions, joins the Brest squadron and enters the Channel,
there is still time; I am master of England. If, on the contrary, my
admirals hesitate, manœuvre badly, and do not fulfil their purpose,
I have no other resource than to wait for winter to cross with the
flotilla. That operation is risky; it would be more so if, pressed by
time, political events should oblige me to postpone it to the month of
April. Such being the case, I hasten to meet the most pressing danger:
I raise my camp here, and by September 23 I shall have in Germany two
hundred thousand men, and twenty-five thousand in Naples. I march upon
Vienna, and do not lay down my arms until I have Naples and Venice,
and have no more to fear from Austria. Austria will certainly thus
be quieted during the winter." These words were a prophecy. The same
day numerous orders, strictly preparatory as yet, were issued to the
troops in Hanover, Holland, and Italy, and other provision made for
the contemplated change of purpose. At the same time, still clinging
to every hope of arresting Austria, and so being left free for the
invasion of England, he sent Duroc to Berlin to offer Hanover to
Prussia, upon condition that the latter should move troops toward
Bohemia or at least make a clear declaration to Austria.
The issue was already decided. On the 13th of August, after three
fruitless attempts, Villeneuve got to sea with his twenty-nine
ships-of-the-line. The frigate "Didon" was sent to seek the Rochefort
squadron and direct it also upon Brest. Yet the unfortunate admiral was
even then hesitating whether he should go there with his vastly greater
force, and the orders were likely seriously to endanger the smaller
division. As he sailed, he penned these significant words to the
Minister of Marine: "The enemy's forces, more concentrated than ever,
leave me little other resource than to go to Cadiz."[238]
Shortly after he cleared the harbor the wind shifted to north-east,
foul for his purpose. The fleet stood to the north-west; but the
ships were badly handled and several received damage. On the morning
of the 15th they were two hundred and fifty miles west-north-west
from Cape Finisterre; the wind blowing a moderate gale, still from
the north-east. Three ships of war were in sight,—two British, the
third the frigate that had been sent to seek the Rochefort squadron,
but which had been captured. A Danish merchantman reported that they
were lookouts from a hostile body of twenty-five ships. The story
had no foundation, for Cornwallis had not yet divided his fleet; but
Villeneuve pictured to himself his inefficient command meeting a force
with which it was wholly unable to cope. Losing sight of the great
whole of which his own enterprise was but a part, though one of vital
importance, his resolution finally broke down. That evening he ordered
the fleet to bear up for Cadiz. On the 20th[239] it was sighted from
the three ships commanded by Collingwood, who with a small division
of varying strength had watched the port since the previous May. With
steady judgment, that admiral in retiring kept just out of gunshot,
determined, as he said, not to be driven into the Mediterranean without
dragging the enemy too through the Straits. Villeneuve had little
heart to pursue. That afternoon he anchored in Cadiz, where were then
assembled thirty-five French and Spanish ships-of-the-line. Collingwood
at once resumed his station outside. That night one ship-of-the-line
joined him, and on the 22d Sir Richard Bickerton arrived with four from
the Mediterranean. On the 30th Calder appeared, bringing with him the
eighteen detached by Cornwallis. In compliance with his orders he had
been before Ferrol, found the port empty, and, learning that Villeneuve
had sailed for Cadiz, had hastened to re-enforce the blockade. With
twenty-six ships-of-the-line Collingwood held the enemy securely
checked, and remained in chief command until the 28th of September,
when Nelson arrived from England.
Thus ended, and forever, Napoleon's profoundly conceived and
laboriously prepared scheme for the invasion of England. If it be
sought to fix a definite moment which marked the final failure of so
vast a plan, that one may well be chosen when Villeneuve made signal
to bear up for Cadiz. When, precisely, Napoleon learned the truth,
does not appear. Decrès, the Minister of Marine, had however prepared
him in some measure for Villeneuve's action; and, after a momentary
outburst of rage against the unfortunate admiral, he at once issued
in rapid succession the directions, by which, to use his own graphic
expression, his legions were made to "pirouette," and the march toward
the Rhine and Upper Danube was begun. "My decision is taken," he writes
to Talleyrand, August 25; "my movement is begun. Three weeks hence I
shall be in Germany with two hundred thousand men." During that and
the two following days order after order issued from his headquarters;
and on the 28th he wrote to Duroc that the army was in full movement.
To conceal his change of purpose and to gain all-important time, by
lulling the suspicions of Austria, he himself remained at Boulogne,
with his eyes seemingly fixed seaward, until the 3d of September, when
he went to Paris. On the 24th he left the capital for the army, on
the 26th he was at Strasbourg, and on the 7th of October the French
army, numbering near two hundred thousand, struck the Danube below
Ulm; cutting off some eighty thousand Austrians there assembled under
General Mack. On the 20th, the day before Trafalgar, Ulm capitulated;
thirty thousand men laying down their arms. Thirty thousand more had
been taken in the actions preceding this event.[240] On the 13th of
November French troops entered Vienna, and on the 2d of December the
battle of Austerlitz was won over the combined Russians and Austrians.
On the 26th the emperor of Germany signed the Peace of Presburg. By it
he relinquished Venice with all other possessions in Italy, and ceded
the Tyrol to Bavaria, the ally of France.
Austria was thus quieted for three years, but the expedition against
Great Britain was never resumed. In the course of the following year
difficulties arose between Prussia and France, which led to war and
the overthrow of the North German kingdom at Auerstadt and Jena. Yet
another campaign was needed to bring Russia to peace in 1807. Meanwhile
the Boulogne flotilla was rotting on the beach. In October, 1807,
Decrès, by Napoleon's orders, made an inspection of the boats and the
four ports. Of the twelve hundred of the former, specially built for
the invasion, not over three hundred were fit to put to sea; of the
nine hundred transports nearly all were past service. The circular port
at Boulogne was covered two feet deep with sand; those of Vimereux and
Ambleteuse, three feet. A very few years more would suffice to bury
them.[241] In 1814 an English lady, visiting Boulogne after Napoleon's
first abdication, noted in her journal that the mud walls of the
encampment were still to be seen on the heights behind the town,—the
crumbling record of a great failure.
The question will naturally here arise, What at any time were the
chances of success? To a purely speculative question, involving so many
elements and into which the conditions of sea war then introduced so
many varying quantities, it would be folly to reply with a positive
assertion. Certain determining factors may, however, be profitably
noted. It is, for instance, evident that, if Villeneuve on leaving the
West Indies had had with him the Ferrol squadron, and still more if he
had been joined by Ganteaume, he could have steered at once for the
Channel; and, by attending to well-known weather conditions, could
have entered it with a favoring wind sure to last him to Boulogne. The
difficulty of effecting such a combination in the West Indies, which
was Napoleon's favorite project, was owing to the presence of British
divisions before the hostile ports; and step by step this circumstance
drove the emperor back on what he pronounced the worst alternative,—a
concentration in front of Brest. As has been noticed, at the critical
moment when this final concentration was to be attempted, the British,
by a series of movements which resulted naturally from their strategic
policy, were before that port in force superior to either of the French
detachments seeking there to make their junction. Cornwallis's blunder
in dividing that force cannot obscure the military lesson involved.
Nor can Calder's error, in suffering Villeneuve to escape him in July,
detract from the equally significant and precisely similar lesson
then illustrated. There also the British fleet was on hand to check
an important junction—at a point so far from Ferrol as to be out
of supporting distance by the division in the port—by virtue of an
intelligent use of interior positions and interior lines.
To the strategic advantage conferred by these interior positions,
for clinging to which credit is due above all to St. Vincent,
is to be added the very superior character of the British
personnel,—particularly of the officers; for the immense demand for
seamen made it hard to maintain the quality of the crews. Continually
cruising, not singly but in squadrons more or less numerous, the ships
were ever on the drill ground,—nay, on the battle-field,—experiencing
all the varying phases impressed upon it by the changes of the ocean.
Thus practised and hardened into perfect machines, though inferior in
numbers, they were continually superior in force and in mobility to
their opponents.
Possessing, therefore, strategic advantage and superior force, the
probabilities favored Great Britain. Nevertheless, there remained to
Napoleon enough chances of success to forbid saying that his enterprise
was hopeless. A seaman can scarcely deny that, despite the genius of
Nelson and the tenacity of the British officers, it was possible that
some favorable concurrence of circumstances might have brought forty
or more French ships into the Channel, and given Napoleon the mastery
of the Straits for the few days he asked. The very removal of the
squadrons of observation from before Rochefort and Ferrol, in order
to constitute the fleet with which Calder fought Villeneuve, though
admirable as a display of generalship, shows that the British navy, so
far as numbers were concerned, was not adequate to perfect security,
and might, by some conceivable combination of circumstances, have been
outwitted and overwhelmed at the decisive point.
The importance attached by the emperor to his project was not
exaggerated. He might, or he might not, succeed; but, if he failed
against Great Britain, he failed everywhere. This he, with the
intuition of genius, felt; and to this the record of his after history
now bears witness. To the strife of arms with the great Sea Power
succeeded the strife of endurance. Amid all the pomp and circumstance
of the war which for ten years to come desolated the Continent, amid
all the tramping to and fro over Europe of the French armies and their
auxiliary legions, there went on unceasingly that noiseless pressure
upon the vitals of France, that compulsion, whose silence, when once
noted, becomes to the observer the most striking and awful mark of the
working of Sea Power. Under it the resources of the Continent wasted
more and more with each succeeding year; and Napoleon, amid all the
splendor of his imperial position, was ever needy. To this, and to
the immense expenditures required to enforce the Continental System,
are to be attributed most of those arbitrary acts which made him the
hated of the peoples, for whose enfranchisement he did so much. Lack
of revenue and lack of credit, such was the price paid by Napoleon
for the Continental System, through which alone, after Trafalgar, he
hoped to crush the Power of the Sea. It may be doubted whether, amid
all his glory, he ever felt secure after the failure of the invasion
of England. To borrow his own vigorous words, in the address to the
nation issued before he joined the army, "To live without commerce,
without shipping, without colonies, subjected to the unjust will of our
enemies, is to live as Frenchmen should not." Yet so had France to live
throughout his reign, by the will of the one enemy never conquered.
On the 14th of September, before quitting Paris, Napoleon sent
Villeneuve orders to take the first favorable opportunity to leave
Cadiz, to enter the Mediterranean, join the ships at Cartagena, and
with this combined force move upon southern Italy. There, at any
suitable point, he was to land the troops embarked in the fleet to
re-enforce General St. Cyr, who already had instructions to be ready
to attack Naples at a moment's notice.[242] The next day these orders
were reiterated to Decrès, enforcing the importance to the general
campaign of so powerful a diversion as the presence of this great fleet
in the Mediterranean; but, as "Villeneuve's excessive pusillanimity
will prevent him from undertaking this, you will send to replace him
Admiral Rosily, who will bear letters directing Villeneuve to return
to France and give an account of his conduct."[243] The emperor had
already formulated his complaints against the admiral under seven
distinct heads.[244] On the 15th of September, the same day the orders
to relieve Villeneuve were issued, Nelson, having spent at home only
twenty-five days, left England for the last time. On the 28th, when he
joined the fleet off Cadiz, he found under his command twenty-nine
ships-of-the-line, which successive arrivals raised to thirty-three by
the day of the battle; but, water running short, it became necessary to
send the ships, by divisions of six, to fill up at Gibraltar. To this
cause was due that only twenty-seven British vessels were present in
the action,—an unfortunate circumstance; for, as Nelson said, what the
country wanted was not merely a splendid victory, but annihilation;
"numbers only can annihilate."[245] The force under his command was
thus disposed: the main body about fifty miles west-south-west of
Cadiz, seven lookout frigates close in with the port, and between these
extremes, two small detachments of ships-of-the-line,—the one twenty
miles from the harbor, the other about thirty-five. "By this chain," he
wrote, "I hope to have constant communication with the frigates."
Napoleon's commands to enter the Mediterranean reached Villeneuve on
September 27. The following day, when Nelson was joining his fleet,
the admiral acknowledged their receipt, and submissively reported his
intention to obey as soon as the wind served. Before he could do so,
accurate intelligence was received of the strength of Nelson's force,
which the emperor had not known. Villeneuve assembled a council of
war to consider the situation, and the general opinion was adverse to
sailing; but the commander-in-chief, alleging the orders of Napoleon,
announced his determination to follow them. To this all submitted. An
event, then unforeseen by Villeneuve, precipitated his action.
Admiral Rosily's approach was known in Cadiz some time before he could
arrive. It at first made little impression upon Villeneuve, who was
not expecting to be superseded. On the 11th of October, however, along
with the news that his successor had reached Madrid, there came to him
a rumor of the truth. His honor took alarm. If not allowed to remain
afloat, how remove the undeserved imputation of cowardice which he knew
had by some been attached to his name. He at once wrote to Decrès that
he would have been well content if permitted to continue with the fleet
in a subordinate capacity; and closed with the words, "I will sail
to-morrow, if circumstances favor."
The wind next day was fair, and the combined fleets began to weigh.
On the 19th eight ships got clear of the harbor, and by ten A. M.
Nelson, far at sea, knew by signal that the long-expected movement had
begun. He at once made sail toward the Straits of Gibraltar to bar
the entrance of the Mediterranean to the allies. On the 20th, all the
latter, thirty-three ships-of-the-line accompanied by five frigates
and two brigs, were at sea, steering with a south-west wind to the
northward and westward to gain the offing needed before heading direct
for the Straits. That morning Nelson, for whom the wind had been fair,
was lying to off Cape Spartel to intercept the enemy; and learning from
his frigates that they were north of him, he stood in that direction to
meet them.
During the day the wind shifted to west, still fair for the British and
allowing the allies, by going about, to head south. It was still very
weak, so that the progress of the fleets was slow. During the night
both manœuvred; the allies to gain, the British to retain, the position
they wished. At daybreak of the 21st they were in presence, the French
and Spaniards steering south in five columns; of which the two to
windward, containing together twelve ships, constituted a detached
squadron of observation under Admiral Gravina. The remaining twenty-one
formed the main body, commanded by Villeneuve. Cape Trafalgar, from
which the battle took its name, was on the south-eastern horizon, ten
or twelve miles from the allies; and the British fleet was at the same
distance from them to the westward.
Soon after daylight Villeneuve signalled to form line of battle on
the starboard tack, on which they were then sailing, heading south.
In performing this evolution Gravina with his twelve ships took post
in the van of the allied fleet, his own flag-ship heading the column.
It is disputed between the French and Spaniards whether this step was
taken by Villeneuve's order, or of Gravina's own motion. In either
case, these twelve, by abandoning their central and windward position,
sacrificed to a great extent their power to re-enforce any threatened
part of the order, and also unduly extended a line already too long.
In the end, instead of being a reserve well in hand, they became the
helpless victims of the British concentration.
At 8 A. M. Villeneuve saw that battle could not be shunned. Wishing to
have Cadiz under his lee in case of disaster, he ordered the combined
fleet to wear together. The signal was clumsily executed; but by ten
all had gone round and were heading north in inverse order, Gravina's
squadron in the rear. At eleven Villeneuve directed this squadron to
keep well to windward, so as to be in position to succor the centre,
upon which the enemy seemed about to make his chief attack; a judicious
order, but rendered fruitless by the purpose of the British to
concentrate on the rear itself. When this signal was made, Cadiz was
twenty miles distant in the north-north-east, and the course of the
allies was carrying them toward it.
Owing to the lightness of the wind Nelson would lose no time in
manœuvring. He formed his fleet rapidly in two divisions, each in
single column, the simplest and most flexible order of attack, and
the one whose regularity is most easily preserved. The simple column,
however, unflanked, sacrifices during the critical period of closing
the support given by the rear ships to the leader, and draws upon the
latter the concentrated fire of the enemy's line. Its use by Nelson
on this occasion has been much criticised. It is therefore to be
remarked that, although his orders, issued several days previous to the
battle, are somewhat ambiguous on this point, their natural meaning
seems to indicate the intention, if attacking from to windward, to draw
up with his fleet in two columns parallel to the enemy and abreast
his rear. Then the column nearest the enemy, the lee, keeping away
together, would advance in line against the twelve rear ships; while
the weather column, moving forward, would hold in check the remainder
of the hostile fleet. In either event, whether attacking in column or
in line, the essential feature of his plan was to overpower twelve of
the enemy by sixteen British, while the remainder of his force covered
this operation. The destruction of the rear was entrusted to the second
in command; he himself with a smaller body took charge of the more
uncertain duties of the containing force. "The second in command,"
wrote he in his memorable order, "will, after my instructions are made
known to him, have the entire direction of his line."
The justification of Nelson's dispositions for battle at Trafalgar
rests therefore primarily upon the sluggish breeze, which would so have
delayed formations as to risk the loss of the opportunity. It must
also be observed that, although a column of ships does not possess the
sustained momentum of a column of men, whose depth and mass combine to
drive it through the relatively thin resistance of a line, and so cut
the latter in twain, the results nevertheless are closely analogous.
The leaders in either case are sacrificed,—success is won over their
prostrate forms; but the continued impact upon one part of the enemy's
order is essentially a concentration, the issue of which, if long
enough maintained, cannot be doubtful. Penetration, severance, and
the enveloping of one of the parted fragments, must be the result.
So, exactly, it was at Trafalgar. It must also be noted that the rear
ships of either column, until they reached the hostile line, swept
with their broadsides the sea over which enemy's ships from either
flank might try to come to the support of the attacked centre. No such
attempt was in fact made from either extremity of the combined fleet.
[Illustration: The Attack at Trafalgar.]
The two British columns were nearly a mile apart and advanced on
parallel courses,—heading nearly east, but a little to the northward
to allow for the gradual advance in that direction of the hostile
fleet. The northern or left-hand column, commonly called the "weather
line" because the wind came rather from that side, contained twelve
ships, and was led by Nelson himself in the "Victory," a ship of one
hundred guns. The "Royal Sovereign," of the same size and carrying
Collingwood's flag, headed the right column, of fifteen ships.
To the British advance the allies opposed the traditional order of
battle, a long single line, closehauled,—in this case heading north,
with the wind from west-north-west. The distance from one flank to
the other was nearly five miles. Owing partly to the lightness of
the breeze, partly to the great number of ships, and partly to the
inefficiency of many of the units of the fleet, the line was very
imperfectly formed. Ships were not in their places, intervals were of
irregular width, here vessels were not closed up, there two overlapped,
one masking the other's fire. The general result was that, instead
of a line, the allied order showed a curve of gradual sweep, convex
toward the east. To the British approach from the west, therefore, it
presented a disposition resembling a re-entrant angle; and Collingwood,
noting with observant eye the advantage of this arrangement for a
cross-fire, commented favorably upon it in his report of the battle. It
was, however, the result of chance, not of intention,—due, not to the
talent of the chief, but to the want of skill in his subordinates.
The commander-in-chief of the allies, Villeneuve, was in the
"Bucentaure," an eighty-gun ship, the twelfth in order from the van of
the line. Immediately ahead of him was the huge Spanish four-decker,
the "Santisima Trinidad," a Goliath among ships, which had now come
forth to her last battle. Sixth behind the "Bucentaure," and therefore
eighteenth in the order, came a Spanish three-decker, the "Santa Ana,"
flying the flag of Vice-Admiral Alava. These two admirals marked the
right and left of the allied centre, and upon them, therefore, the
British leaders respectively directed their course,—Nelson upon the
"Bucentaure," Collingwood upon the "Santa Ana."
The "Royal Sovereign" had recently been refitted, and with clean new
copper easily outsailed her more worn followers. Thus it happened that,
as Collingwood came within range, his ship, outstripping the others
by three quarters of a mile, entered alone, and for twenty minutes
endured, unsupported, the fire of all the hostile ships that could
reach her. A proud deed, surely, but surely also not a deed to be
commended as a pattern. The first shot of the battle was fired at her
by the "Fougueux," the next astern of the "Santa Ana." This was just at
noon, and with the opening guns the ships of both fleets hoisted their
ensigns; the Spaniards also hanging large wooden crosses from their
spanker booms.
The "Royal Sovereign" advanced in silence until, ten minutes later,
she passed close under the stern of the "Santa Ana." Then she fired a
double-shotted broadside which struck down four hundred of the enemy's
crew, and, luffing rapidly, took her position close alongside, the
muzzles of the hostile guns nearly touching. Here the "Royal Sovereign"
underwent the fire not only of her chief antagonist, but of four other
ships; three of which belonged to the division of five that ought
closely to have knit the "Santa Ana" to the "Bucentaure," and so fixed
an impassable barrier to the enemy seeking to pierce the centre. The
fact shows strikingly the looseness of the allied order, these three
being all in rear and to leeward of their proper stations.
For fifteen minutes the "Royal Sovereign" was the only British ship
in close action. Then her next astern entered the battle, followed
successively by the rest of the column. In rear of the "Santa Ana" were
fifteen ships. Among these, Collingwood's vessels penetrated in various
directions; chiefly, however, at first near the spot where his flag had
led the way, enveloping and destroying in detail the enemy's centre
and leading rear ships, and then passing on to subdue the rest. Much
doubtless was determined by chance in such confusion and obscurity;
but the original tactical plan insured an overwhelming concentration
upon a limited portion of the enemy's order. This being subdued with
the less loss, because so outnumbered, the intelligence and skill of
the various British captains readily compassed the destruction of the
dwindling remnant. Of the sixteen ships, including the "Santa Ana,"
which composed the allied rear, twelve were taken or destroyed.
Not till one o'clock, or nearly half an hour after the vessels next
following Collingwood came into action, did the "Victory" reach the
"Bucentaure." The latter was raked with the same dire results that
befell the "Santa Ana;" but a ship close to leeward blocked the way,
and Nelson was not able to grapple with the enemy's commander-in-chief.
The "Victory," prevented from going through the line, fell on board
the "Redoutable," a French seventy-four, between which and herself a
furious action followed,—the two lying in close contact. At half-past
one Nelson fell mortally wounded, the battle still raging fiercely.
The ship immediately following Nelson's came also into collision
with the "Redoutable," which thus found herself in combat with two
antagonists. The next three of the British weather column each in
succession raked the "Bucentaure," complying thus with Nelson's
order that every effort must be made to capture the enemy's
commander-in-chief. Passing on, these three concentrated their efforts,
first, upon the "Bucentaure," and next upon the "Santisima Trinidad."
Thus it happened that upon the allied commander-in-chief, upon his
next ahead, and upon the ship which, though not his natural supporter
astern, had sought and filled that honorable post,—upon the key, in
short, of the allied order,—were combined under the most advantageous
conditions the fires of five hostile vessels, three of them
first-rates. Consequently, not only were the three added to the prizes,
but also a great breach was made between the van and rear of the
combined fleets. This breach became yet wider by the singular conduct
of Villeneuve's proper next astern. Soon after the "Victory" came
into action, that ship bore up out of the line, wore round, and stood
toward the rear, followed by three others. This movement is attributed
to a wish to succor the rear. If so, it was at best an indiscreet and
ill-timed act, which finds little palliation in the fact that not one
of these ships was taken.
Thus, two hours after the battle began, the allied fleet was cut in
two, the rear enveloped and in process of being destroyed in detail,
the "Bucentaure," "Santisima Trinidad," and "Redoutable" practically
reduced, though not yet surrendered. Ahead of the "Santisima Trinidad"
were ten ships, which as yet had not been engaged. The inaction of
the van, though partly accounted for by the slackness of the wind,
has given just cause for censure. To it, at ten minutes before two,
Villeneuve made signal to get into action and to wear together. This
was accomplished with difficulty, owing to the heavy swell and want
of wind. At three, however, all the ships were about, but by an
extraordinary fatality they did not keep together. Five with Admiral
Dumanoir stood along to windward of the battle, three passed to leeward
of it, and two, keeping away, left the field entirely. Of the whole
number, three were intercepted, raising the loss of the allies to
eighteen ships-of-the-line taken, one of which caught fire and was
burned. The approach of Admiral Dumanoir, if made an hour earlier,
might have conduced to save Villeneuve; it was now too late. Exchanging
a few distant broadsides with enemy's ships, he stood off to the
south-west with four vessels; one of those at first with him having
been cut off.
At quarter before five Admiral Gravina, whose ship had been the rear
of the order during the battle and had lost heavily, retreated toward
Cadiz, making signal to the vessels which had not struck to form around
his flag. Five other Spanish ships and five French followed him. As
he was withdrawing, the last two to resist of the allied fleet struck
their colors.
During the night of the 21st these eleven ships anchored at the mouth
of Cadiz harbor, which they could not then enter, on account of a land
wind from south-east. At the same time the British and their prizes
were being carried shoreward by the heavy swell which had prevailed
during the battle; the light air blowing from the sea not enabling them
to haul off. The situation was one of imminent peril. At midnight the
wind freshened much, but fortunately hauled to the southward, whence
it blew a gale all the 22d. The ships got their heads to the westward
and drew off shore, with thirteen of the prizes; the other four having
had to anchor off Cape Trafalgar. That morning the "Bucentaure,"
Villeneuve's late flag-ship, was wrecked on some rocks off the entrance
to Cadiz; and toward evening the "Redoutable," that had so nobly
supported her, was found to be sinking astern of the British ship that
had her in tow. During the night of the 22d she went down, with a
hundred and fifty of her people still on board. On the 24th the same
fate befell the great "Santisima Trinidad," which had been the French
admiral's next ahead. Thus his own ship and his two supports vanished
from the seas.
For several days the wind continued violent from north-west and
south-west. On the 23d five of the ships that had escaped with Gravina
put out, to cut off some of the prizes that were near the coast. They
succeeded in taking two; but as these were battered to pieces, while
three of the five rescuers were carried on the beach and wrecked with
great loss of life, little advantage resulted from this well-meant
and gallant sortie. Two other prizes were given up to their own crews
by the British prize-masters, because the latter were not able with
their scanty force to save them. These got into Cadiz. Of the remaining
British prizes, all but four either went ashore or were destroyed by
the orders of Collingwood, who despaired of saving them. No British
ship was lost.
Of thirty-three combined French and Spanish ships which sailed out of
Cadiz on the 20th of October, eleven, five French and six Spanish,
mostly now disabled hulks, lay there at anchor on the last day of
the month. The four that escaped to sea under Dumanoir fell in with
a British squadron of the same size near Cape Ortegal, on the 4th
of November, and were all taken. This raised the allied loss to
twenty-two,—two more than the twenty for which Nelson, in his dying
hour, declared that he had bargained.
No attempt to move from Cadiz was again made by the shattered relics
of the fight. On the 25th of October Rosily arrived and took up his
now blasted command. Nearly three years later, when the Spanish
monarchy, so long the submissive tool of the Directory and of Napoleon,
had been overthrown by the latter, and the Spanish people had risen
against the usurper, the five French ships were still in the port.
Surprised between the British blockade and the now hostile batteries
of the coast, Rosily, after an engagement of two days with the latter,
surrendered his squadron, with the four thousand seamen then on board.
This event occurred on the 14th of June, 1808. It was the last echo of
Trafalgar.
Such, in its leading outlines and direct consequences, was the famous
battle of Trafalgar. Its lasting significance and far-reaching results
have been well stated by a recent historian, more keenly alive than
most of his fellows to the paramount, though silent, influence of Sea
Power upon the course of events: "Trafalgar was not only the greatest
naval victory, it was the greatest and most momentous victory won
either by land or by sea during the whole of the Revolutionary War.
No victory, and no series of victories, of Napoleon produced the same
effect upon Europe.... A generation passed after Trafalgar before
France again seriously threatened England at sea. The prospect of
crushing the British navy, so long as England had the means to equip
a navy, vanished. Napoleon henceforth set his hopes on exhausting
England's resources, by compelling every state on the Continent to
exclude her commerce. Trafalgar forced him to impose his yoke upon
_all_ Europe, or to abandon the hope of conquering Great Britain....
Nelson's last triumph left England in such a position that no means
remained to injure her but those which _must result in the ultimate
deliverance of the Continent_."[246]
These words may be accepted with very slight modification. Napoleon's
scheme for the invasion of Great Britain, thwarted once and again by
the strategic difficulties attendant upon its execution, was finally
frustrated when Villeneuve gave up the attempt to reach Brest and
headed for Cadiz. On the part of the allies Trafalgar was, in itself,
a useless holocaust, precipitated in the end by the despair of the
unfortunate admiral, upon whose irresolution Napoleon not unjustly
visited the anger caused by the wreck of his plans. Villeneuve
was perfectly clear-sighted and right in his appreciation of the
deficiencies of his command,—of the many chances against success.
Where he wretchedly failed was in not recognizing the simple duty of
obedience,—the obligation to persist at all hazards in the part of a
great scheme assigned to him, even though it led to the destruction of
his whole force. Had he, upon leaving Ferrol, been visited by a little
of the desperation which brought him to Trafalgar, the invasion of
England might possibly—not probably—have been effected.
An event so striking as the battle of Trafalgar becomes, however, to
mankind the symbol of all the circumstances—more important, perhaps,
but less obvious—which culminate in it. In this sense it may be said
that Trafalgar was the cause—as it certainly marked the period—of
Napoleon's resolution to crush Great Britain by excluding her commerce
from the Continent. Here, therefore, the story of the influence of
Sea Power upon this great conflict ceases to follow the strictly
naval events, and becomes concerned simply with commerce-destroying,
ordinarily a secondary operation of maritime war, but exalted in the
later years of Napoleon's reign to be the principal, if not the sole,
means of action.
To this the two next chapters are devoted. Of these, the first deals
with commerce-destroying in the ordinary sense of the words, directed
against enemies' property on the high seas; beginning with the outbreak
of war in 1793, and narrating the series of measures by which the
republic sought to break down British commerce and foreshadowed the
policy of Napoleon's Berlin and Milan decrees. The second begins
with the Berlin decree, in 1806; and, tracing one by one the steps
which carried the emperor from violence to violence, seeks to show
how these found their necessary outcome in the Russian expedition and
the fall of the Empire. Detached thus, as far as may be, from the
maze of contemporary history in which they are commonly lost, these
successive acts of the French government are seen to form a logical
sequence, connected by one motive and dominated by one necessity. The
motive is the destruction of Great Britain, the necessity that of
self-preservation. Each nation, unassailable on its own element, stood
like an impregnable fortress that can be brought to surrender only by
the exhaustion of its resources. In this struggle of endurance Napoleon
fell.