INVASION TILL THE CLOSE OF 1801
AUTHORITIES.—As before.
The retreat of Bruix from the Mediterranean and the return of Napoleon
were followed by a pause in the naval war. The French fleet was
exhausted by the effort it had made, and its return to Brest was
followed by an outbreak of discontent, mutiny, and desertion among
the crews. The Spaniards they had brought with them, sixteen sail,
were politically useful to France as hostages, but were of no military
value. The Spanish Ferrol squadron, which was to have joined Bruix
when on his way to the Mediterranean in April, had missed him, perhaps
deliberately, had then gone on to Aix roads, where they were attacked
to no purpose by the frigates and bomb-vessels of an English squadron
commanded by Rear-Admiral Pole on the 2nd July. They returned home in
the course of September, after an attempt to enter Brest. While the
French naval forces were thus exhausted, Napoleon was absorbed in the
discharge of obligations which were preliminary to the renewal of an
attack on England. He had first to make himself master of France by
the _coup d’état_ of the 18th Brumaire VIII (9th November 1799). Then
he had to beat the Austrians who were pressing on the south-eastern
frontier of France, and to bring about a separation between them and
the Russians, with whom they were on very bad terms. In the interval
the French could do nothing to help the army Napoleon had left behind
him in Egypt, except endeavour to send blockade runners with news and
stores. It became continually more difficult for them to do even this.
They were excluded from Italy, and Corfu had surrendered on the 3rd
March 1799 to the Turks and Russians.
When Keith left the Mediterranean in pursuit of Bruix, Nelson remained
in temporary command, but in the absence of an enemy he had nothing to
do save to tighten the blockade of Malta and keep an eye on Minorca,
which continued to be a burden and a cause of division of forces.
He did not cease to be absorbed in schemes for the promotion of the
interests of Their Sicilian Majesties—schemes which were superfluous
if the French were beaten in Northern Italy, and were certain to
be blown into space so soon as they were victorious. The English
Government being well aware by this time that Nelson had “Sicilified”
his conscience, decided to send Lord Keith back to his post as
Commander-in-Chief in the Mediterranean. It was his due, for he had
been sent out to be second in command to St. Vincent, and the duty had
been handed over to him by his chief. Keith was not a genius, but he
had common sense, he had not forgotten that he was the servant of King
George III., and he was impervious to the fascinations of the court of
Naples.
Keith sailed on the 20th November 1799 to resume the command, and
reached Gibraltar on the 6th December. In the absence of a French fleet
he had no duty to discharge except to superintend the blockade of Malta
and help our Austrian allies as far as he could. Malta had long been
cut off from communication with home. An attempt was made to relieve
the garrison on the 18th February. A small convoy was sent under the
protection of the _Généreux_, which had escaped from Corfu. The convoy
was commanded by the Rear-Admiral, Perrée, who had been taken by Lord
Keith in the previous year. The convoy was scattered, Perrée was
killed, and the _Généreux_ was taken by a number of vessels immediately
commanded by Nelson in his flagship the =Foudroyant=. On the 30th
February the _Guillaume Tell_, the last survivor of the French fleet of
the battle of the Nile, which was lying in Malta, made an attempt to
escape. She was sighted, pursued, surrounded by a swarm of enemies, and
was surrendered, after a most magnificent defence, by Admiral Decrès,
who held the superior command in her, and who was to be Napoleon’s
Minister of Marine. The fate of the garrison was now certain, but
General Vaubois held out till English troops had been landed to
reinforce the islanders, and till hunger compelled him to surrender on
the 5th September 1800.
The occupation of Malta was timely, for it coincided with the collapse
of the allies in Italy, and made us independent of ports on the
mainland. In spring the Austrians seemed to be making themselves
masters of Northern Italy, and the English Government appeared to
be about to support them with decision. Troops were sent to Minorca
under command of General Fox. Others followed, and were ordered to
follow, under the commandership-in-chief of Sir Ralph Abercromby, an
old officer who at least knew his business in the field, and had done
promising service in the West Indies and the Low Countries. But Austria
and England were preparing victory for France under a vain show of
energy. The Austrians had got rid of their Russian ally, the great
Suvarof, a real captain, whose habit of concentrating his men, striking
at the heart of his enemy, and wringing the last drop of gain out of
every success, shocked their pedantry. Moreover, it was their intention
to deliver Italy from French oppression and revolutionary principles
for the purpose of putting it into their own pockets. Therefore they
had no wish for the help of an associate who would cry halves. They
were going to work by the book of arithmetic, sagaciously besieging
and taking post after post, and thereby they allowed Napoleon ample
time to organise the army which was to wrench all their conquests from
them in one day of battle. The English Government was disposed to help
by sending soldiers to fight a little and then come away. Sir Charles
Pasley, author of a treatise on _The Military Policy of the British
Empire_, which appeared in 1808 and produced a great impression, said
epigrammatically that we worked with our navy and played with our army.
The operations before 1800, and on too many occasions afterwards, till
Spain gave us a safe footing in 1808, justify his scoff. It was too
much the custom of the English Government to overcrowd soldiers into
leaky transports where they were plagued by scurvy, and to keep them
hanging round the outskirts of the European conflict. Like an immortal
personage in a great English classic, our army was always making the
gesture of taking its coat off. When it was allowed to land, the
generals were carefully instructed to go no farther than they could go
back easily. They were to advance with their eyes over their shoulders.
In the autumn of 1799 we had made an inroad of this half-hearted kind
into Holland in co-operation with the Russians. It was badly led, for
the Duke of York, an excellent commander-in-chief at the Horse Guards
but a deplorable general in the field, was the leader. But the forces
employed were insufficient. We gained a naval advantage. The remains
of the Dutch fleet fell into our hands at the Nieuwe Diep, partly
through the bad management of their admiral, Storij, but mainly because
the Dutch sailors would not fight. They had an hereditary loyalty to
the house of Orange, and they were discontented with a life of unpaid
idleness under the Batavian Republic. And here it is not irrelevant
to record that the Dutch sailors were already swarming into our navy
and merchant ships. It was calculated that in 1800 as many as 20,000
Dutchmen were sailing under our flag. As the predominance of France
grew more and more oppressive, as she dragged one country after another
into her struggle with England, ever increasing numbers of foreign
sailors sought a refuge from ruin at home in our ports. They were
invited by the English law, which gave naturalisation and with it the
right to command a merchant ship to any foreigner who had served for
two years in our navy. Northern seamen were preferred, both because
they were hardier men, and because coming from kindred races Jansen
easily became Johnson, and Pieterzoon Peterson. Therefore it was that
we were able to man both our navy and our merchant service, which
doubled during the Revolutionary and Napoleonic wars.
Our share in the resistance to France in Northern Italy during the
command of Lord Keith was quite on the then prevailing model. It was
efficient in so far as it was naval, and in so far as it was military
it was pitiful. Abercromby came to Minorca in May, and we made the
gesture of taking off our coat to help the Austrians at the siege of
Genoa, where Massena was tenaciously holding out with the last French
army in Italy. But the coat was not taken off. The navy blockaded
vigilantly, helped to capture small French posts, and did some gallant
cutting out. The cutting out of the _Prima_ galley from the mole of
Genoa by Captain Beaver was as dashing a piece of work of that kind as
was done in the war. The galley slaves, of whom some were criminals,
but some were prisoners of war, rowed the galley out with alacrity when
Beaver had loosened the chains which bound her to the mole. The story
had a sickening sequel. It seems incredible that Keith, a man of honour
and humanity, should have sent the greater part of these poor wretches
back to Genoa, where they were butchered by Massena. But “such things
were,” to use a favourite phrase of Nelson’s. The incident was typical,
for at that time we were much in the habit of landing against the
French, inviting the help of the people, and then leaving them in the
lurch. “Such things” went far to put a meaning into Napoleon’s abuse of
Perfidious Albion, which used all men for her own advantage, and left
them to suffer for trusting to her word.
Massena was starved out by the 4th June, and next day the town was
occupied by the allies—Austrian soldiers and English ships. English
soldiers were going to come from Minorca, but did not. It was perhaps
fortunate they did not, for nine days after our vessels anchored
at the mole, Napoleon’s army smashed the Austrians at Marengo. A
beating usually extorted an armistice and large surrenders from
Austria. So it did now. An armistice was signed at Alessandria two
days after the defeat. The Austrians surrendered their conquests in
Piedmont wholesale, and on the 23rd Massena reoccupied Genoa with such
promptitude that the =Minotaur= was hardly able to warp out of the port
in time to escape capture.
Political necessities made it incumbent on Napoleon to return to Paris,
and the full harvest of Marengo was not gathered till the close of
1800. But a great wind of terror began to blow all along the Italian
Peninsula. The Queen of Naples went off to implore the Czar Paul to
save her dominions. Nelson went with her, and the English Minister at
Naples, Sir William Hamilton, who had been superseded after many and
flagrant proofs of dotage. Naples may be dismissed for the present
with a brief notice that the king continued to attempt to play a part,
and gain an increase of territory in Central Italy—at least to enrich
his collections of pictures and statues by the plunder of Rome. He
had an army, and it was handsomely tailored. But as King Ferdinand’s
cynical son and successor remarked when he was asked to approve of a
new uniform for his army, “You may dress them as you please, they will
always run away.” When war was resumed in the autumn, the Neapolitan
army bolted at the mere sight of a small French force, the cavalry
riding in panic over the panic-stricken foot at a slashing pace—and
King Ferdinand went down on all fours. It was a relief to be rid of
Naples, but the occupation of Malta in September had been timely.
After the return of Napoleon to Paris, there took place one of those
delusive negotiations in which he not uncommonly sought a military
advantage. He tried to turn the armistice with Austria into a naval
armistice with England. But as usual with him, the terms he offered
were excessively favourable to himself. He wished to retain the right
to send six frigates armed _en flûte_ to Malta and Egypt, and to obtain
security that they would not be examined or stopped. His intention
was to fill them with soldiers and stores to reinforce the garrison
and the army of occupation. The English Government would have been
guilty of incredible folly if it had accepted such a proposal. It
refused, and Napoleon resumed hostilities in October. On sea there had
been no suspension. We had taken Malta, and had defended Elba, and we
were at last preparing to intervene with vigour in Egypt. It was a
consideration of the first importance that the French should not be in
actual possession of the country when serious negotiations for peace
were begun.
Egypt would have been evacuated in January 1800 but for want of good
management on our part. On the 24th of that month Kléber signed a
convention with the Grand Vizier by which he undertook to evacuate
the country if his army was allowed to return home. Sidney Smith, who
commanded on the coast, did not sign the convention, but he agreed to
allow the Frenchmen to pass. When, however, he referred to Keith, who
had just returned from England, the admiral who had general orders not
to allow the French to go except as prisoners, refused his consent. His
refusal was notified to Kléber, who considered himself cheated, and
took his revenge not on us, whom he could not reach, but on the unhappy
Turks, who were perfectly innocent of any breach of faith. He fell
upon them, and defeated them with enormous slaughter at Heliopolis.
When the English Government heard the facts, it gave its consent to the
free return of the French army. But it was now too late. Kléber had
been murdered by a Mahometan fanatic. His successor, Menou, would not
confirm the convention, and nothing remained to be done but to send an
army and turn him out. It is customary to speak of the convention of El
Arish as a foolish business. Yet the Turks had a fair right to recover
their province when they could, and some ground to complain of us for
spoiling their chance. The British army would have lost one of the most
honourable passages in its history if the convention had been carried
out. But politically we had everything to gain by the evacuation of the
country. Kléber’s twenty thousand men were a chip in the porridge of
the half-million soldiers of France. Marengo and Hohenlinden were won
without them. Napoleon’s position would have been notably weaker after
Marengo if Egypt had been already lost. This was an advantage which was
ill replaced by the honour of the thing, and the feather in our cap.
Moreover, we could not know that Kléber would be murdered, and that
Menou would show military ineptitude.
The autumn of 1800 was rich in examples of the two ways of making war,
the right and the wrong. Napoleon left the command in the field to
his generals. On the 3rd December the defeat of the Archduke John by
Moreau at Hohenlinden brought Austria to the ground. She made peace for
herself, though bound by treaty and subsidies not to act apart from
us. Brune and Murat completed the subjugation of Italy. Naples became
a mere appendage of France by the treaty of Foligno, and the treaty of
Lunéville, signed by France and Austria on the 9th February 1801, left
England without an ally on the Continent. When he was rid of Austria
and dominator of Italy, Napoleon was free to concentrate his attention
on the war with England. As England had no sufficient army with which
to attack him at home, she was everywhere on the defensive—on the
superior defensive, no doubt, but on the defensive—except where it
was possible to assail an isolated body of French troops—to wit in
Egypt. Our utter inability to attack the bulk of Napoleon’s power was
well shown in June 1800. St. Vincent, who had hoisted his flag as
commander-in-chief of the Channel fleet on the 26th April, detached Sir
Edward Pellew with seven sail of the line on the 1st June to escort
5000 troops under General Maitland. They were to seize Quiberon, and to
revive the Royalists of Brittany and La Vendée to activity. St. Vincent
acted, of course, by orders of the Government, which was much inclined
to such expeditions, and had hopes of success in an attack on Brest,
which came to nothing. The expedition of Pellew and Maitland came to
as good as nothing. A small fort was taken, a number of small vessels
were captured or destroyed, a brilliant piece of cutting-out work was
done by Jeremiah Coghlan, a favourite and follower of Pellew. But as
the west of France was occupied by a strong army under Bernadotte,
General Maitland could make no impression, and could only re-embark
in haste. Pellew was eager to attack Belleisle, but as the island was
held by 7000 men and was powerfully fortified, a landing would have
been a costly folly. General Maitland very rightly refused to lead his
men to destruction. They were landed on the island of Houat, where
they remained till they were picked up at the end of July by Sir J.
B. Warren, who brought other troops with him under General Pulteney.
The whole force went south at the beginning of August to join Keith
and Abercromby, and to make up an army which was to be employed in
Egypt, the only field in which such a military force as we could then
muster could be used with effect. It was hoped that a stroke might
be delivered at the Spaniards on the way. The squadron of Admiral
Malgarejo, which had returned from the coast of France in the previous
September, was at Ferrol, the great Spanish arsenal in Galicia. Ferrol,
which lies on the north side of a land-locked harbour, is approached
by a fortified channel a mile and a half long. The navy did not force
the passage. It landed Pulteney’s soldiers and a naval brigade under
Pellew on Doniños beach to the north of the passage between Gabeiras
and Serantes or Golfin Points. Doniños is directly to the west of
Ferrol, and is separated from it by some miles of hilly country. The
soldiers drove back a small force of Spanish militia and advanced to
heights from which they had a clear view of Ferrol. Pulteney had a
walled town before him, and he knew that it was occupied by a garrison.
He appears to have exaggerated the numbers of the Spaniards. But there
was a garrison, and there were walls. As the navy had not forced the
passage, it could give him no help in attacking the town. He had no
battering-train, but only a few light field pieces which the sailors
had landed and dragged up for him. He came to the conclusion that time
and men must be spent to take Ferrol—and he had neither to spare. He
therefore re-embarked, and it is hard to say that he was wrong. His
failure has been much derided, and it has been usual to say that the
navy did its part. But the navy did not do its part, which would have
been to force an entrance to the harbour of Ferrol, and bring the water
front of the town under its guns. It asked the army to storm unbreached
fortifications.
After this futility, and another at Vigo, the combined expedition went
on to Gibraltar, and there joined Keith and Abercromby. Before it
went on its proper work, it made another such demonstration as that
at Ferrol. On the 4th of October the whole force was brought round to
Cadiz. The customary version of the story is that the Spanish governor,
Morla, appealed to the English commanders to spare the town, which was
suffering from a great epidemic of yellow fever, and that the gallant
Englishmen, ever generous to a suppliant foe, sailed away. This is
poetry. The prose of the story is well told by Keith’s captain of the
fleet, Philip Beaver. “Independent of the objection which a dreadful
malady, called by some the plague and by others the yellow fever,
opposed to our disembarking, the late season of the year, the danger
of the coast, and the difficulty of communication between the soldiers
and sailors were deemed sufficient by the two commanders-in-chief to
relinquish the attempt.” Abercromby had orders not to land unless he
was sure of being able to embark immediately in case of need. The
naval officers would not promise to be able to re-embark his men at
all times. Moreover, confusion had arisen when an attempt was made to
get the soldiers into the boats, and they were suffering severely from
scurvy after months of detention in wet and overcrowded transports, on
a diet of salt meat, and sleeping on dripping decks in their clothes
and blankets. But now at least the time of fumbling and pottering
was over. On the 5th November, Keith and Abercromby sailed for Malta,
leaving Warren with six sail of the line to watch the Straits. They
collected their command at Malta, and on the 20th December they sailed
to the Levant with resources sanely adapted to an attainable end.
Napoleon was well aware of the value of Egypt as an asset when the
time came for making peace. He strove hard to relieve the army of
occupation. He drew up elaborate schemes for reinforcing it by
squadrons of French and Spanish which were to combine by complicated
movements. What was more to the purpose was that he sent out frigate
after frigate crowded with men and stores from Toulon and the western
ports. When he heard of the concentration of Abercromby’s force at
Malta, he redoubled his efforts. Some of the vessels he sent reached
their destination. The _Egyptienne_ and _Justice_ frigates anchored at
Alexandria on the 3rd February 1801—four days after Abercromby, who
sailed from Malta on the 20th December 1800, had anchored in Marmorice
Bay, in Caramania, on the 31st January. The fleet of seven sail of the
line, frigates, and from 60 to 70 transports turned with relief from a
stormy sea to the land-locked harbour. Keith owed his knowledge of its
existence to Sidney Smith, so ill was the Levant known at the time. As
the leading vessel turned into the entrance between towering headlands
she seemed to the ships behind to be steered against a precipice. Here
the fleet lay recruiting the health of the soldiers, practising them
in landing, collecting stores, listening to the fluent and unfulfilled
promises of the Turk, till the 22nd February, when it sailed for Egypt.
It sighted the coast on the 1st March. On that day the last relief from
France reached Egypt. The _Régénérée_ frigate and _Lodi_ brig ran into
Alexandria parallel with Keith’s convoy. The _Régénérée_ had sailed
on the 13th February with the _Africaine_ from Rochefort. The history
of the _Africaine_ shows at what a cost this work of reinforcing an
isolated force oversea in face of a superior enemy had to be done.
She separated from the _Régénérée_, and on the 18th February, being
then near Ceuta, was sighted, chased, and overtaken by the =Phœbe=,
Captain Barlow. The _Africaine_ had in her 400 soldiers and officials
in addition to her crew of 350. Her captain, Saulnier, who had
commanded the _Guillaume Tell_ under Decrès, made a gallant attempt to
resist capture, and fell in the action. She could make no effectual
resistance, and when Saulnier’s successor, Magendie, struck his flag,
there were 343 dead and wounded out of 715 men packed into her. The
loss of the =Phœbe= was—1 man killed, 2 officers and 10 men wounded.
The history of the expedition to Egypt belongs to the army from the
8th March when it was landed by three detachments and in beautiful
order. The bad generalship of Menou aiding, our soldiers showed that
they could look the best soldiers of France (who yet fought valiantly)
in the face, and in the back too. In June Sir Home Popham, coming from
India, landed an Indian contingent at Kosseir on the Red Sea, which
crossed the desert to Cairo in June. The ships in the Mediterranean
rendered help and stood on guard. Their last service was to drive off
the belated squadron of Honoré Ganteaume which arrived on the coast on
the 7th June.
The doings of that squadron touch our own naval history closely.
Ganteaume was ordered to sail from Brest with three 80-gun ships and
four 74’s. Five thousand soldiers and officials were crowded into
his vessels. It was given out that they were bound for San Domingo.
This was done to spread a false impression, and not without effect.
Ganteaume went through the Raz du Sein on the 8th January, but, finding
his way barred by an English squadron, came back. St. Vincent had now
established his close blockade in the face of some sulky opposition
from officers accustomed to the easier ways of Bridport. He applied his
rule “always close up to Brest in the easterly winds.” It is therefore
a useful corrective to much we are told of the merits of that blockade,
to note that while a heavy gale was blowing from the N.E. on the 23rd
January, Ganteaume made a dash through the Iroise and got away clear to
the south. When St. Vincent heard of the escape of the French squadron
he was deceived as to its destination. Our numerous and capable spies
had no doubt reported the rumour that San Domingo was the aim, and St.
Vincent sent seven ships of the line to the West Indies. Ganteaume
bore on for the Mediterranean, much tried by the gale, and for a time
separated in his flagship, the _Indivisible_, from the rest of his
squadron. But he reunited them on the 1st February, and on the 9th he
ran through the Straits. On the 13th he captured the =Success=, and
learnt from her that Keith must by this time be close to Egypt. He
considered his mission hopeless, and steered for Toulon, very full of
complaints as to the damage done to his ships and other obstructions.
Warren, who could not stop him in the Straits, hurried to Minorca to
protect that perpetual clog and nuisance to the fleet. At Minorca he
heard that our late ally of Naples was being bullied into joining the
French against us, and sailed to Sicily to protect our interests. He
reduced his squadron, leaving one of his six liners to protect Minorca.
Such is the value of a basis of operations which the forces based upon
it dare not leave to its own resources. Ganteaume reached Toulon on
the 18th February, two days before Warren reached Minorca, and on the
19th March sailed again. On the 25th he sighted Warren coming back
from Sicily by the east side of Sardinia, and turned back to Toulon.
He had seven sail to five, and a fine chance to win honour. But he had
his mission to fulfil, and though he believed it to be incapable of
fulfilment, he was prepared to make it an excuse for avoiding action.
Warren, having lost sight of him, went hunting for him to south and
east. On the 5th April Ganteaume was back in Toulon. On the 25th he
was hounded out by Napoleon. He went down the coast of Italy, gave
some help to the French forces then endeavouring to drive out the
Anglo-Tuscan garrison which held Elba, left the three slowest ships
of his squadron at Leghorn, pushed, driven by the anger of the First
Consul to unwonted daring, through the Straits of Messina, and actually
sighted the coast of Egypt 210 miles west of Alexandria on the 7th
June. He detached the _Heliopolis_ brig to Alexandria, where the French
troops were still holding out, and waited for news. As none came as
soon as he expected, he concluded that the _Heliopolis_ was taken, and
so went next to Bengasi in Tripoli intending to land troops there on a
hopeful mission to march by the desert to Egypt. As a matter of fact
the _Heliopolis_ found the coast clear and got safely into Alexandria.
Keith, who had warning by the =Pique= frigate that Ganteaume was not
far off, had gone in pursuit of him. The Frenchman was actually
sighted, but cut his cables, and went off to Toulon. It is a tell-tale
comment on his incessant complaints of the state of his squadron that
he not only out-sailed Keith, but on the 24th sighted the =Swiftsure=,
Captain Keats, on his way from Egypt to Gibraltar near Cape Dernah,
overtook her, captured her, and carried her with him to Toulon, where
he dropped anchor on the 22nd July. The French ships were indifferently
fitted, the crews unpaid for a year, ill-rationed, and in rags. Yet
here we see one of their squadrons, timidly commanded, elude the
vaunted St. Vincent blockade, pass an English squadron unhindered in
the Straits of Gibraltar, range the whole length of the Mediterranean,
and end without disaster after capturing a line-of-battle ship and a
frigate, to say nothing of small craft destroyed. How would it have
been if the equipment had been better, and the chief had been Suffren
or Duguay Trouin?
The frigates and the cruise of Ganteaume’s squadron, were not the only
nor the most formidable efforts Napoleon made to preserve his hold on
Egypt. The formation of the Northern Coalition was in fact a part of
his policy, which aimed at securing her conquests for France. In theory
the coalition was an alliance signed on the 15th December 1800, by
Russia, Prussia, Denmark, and Sweden, to restrict England’s exercise of
her belligerent rights at sea. The immediate pretext was the capture
of the Danish frigate _Freya_, whose captain refused to allow merchant
ships under his protection to be searched, on the 25th July 1800. There
was much hypocrisy in the outcry over the alleged wrongs of neutrals.
No doubt they were annoyed, and to some extent injured, by England’s
assertion of her claim to capture her enemy’s goods in their ships.
But Sweden, in a recent war with Russia, had gone as far as England in
the exercise of belligerent rights. Russia had urged England to go to
all lengths against the shipping of revolutionary France, and Denmark
had profited largely by her position as a neutral. The real author
of the coalition was Napoleon, who worked on the admiration felt for
him by the erratic (perhaps the mad) Czar, Paul. Paul put pressure on
the northern powers, who dared not offend him. He was annoyed by the
occupation of Malta by England, for he had taken the island under his
own protection. As the coalition depended on him it was weak, for Paul
had made himself an object of hate and fear to all about him. His war
with England inflicted heavy loss on the wealthier classes in Russia.
A plot, of which the English Government was certainly not entirely
ignorant, was being laid against him. The English Government could not,
however, afford to wait till the Russians had rid themselves of their
mischievous ruler by the use of the so-called “Asiatic Remedy,” which
was in vulgar English, murder.
Therefore on the 12th March, Sir Hyde Parker, who had with him Nelson
as second in command, sailed from Yarmouth with fifteen sail of the
line, afterwards raised to eighteen. His mission was to coerce Denmark
and Sweden into leaving the coalition, if they could not be persuaded
to retire by Mr. Vansittart, afterwards Lord Bexley, who was sent to
Copenhagen on a diplomatic mission. The naval forces of the allies may
have amounted to forty-one sail of the line, but the Russians, who had
the most numerous fleet, were still shut up in the ice in Revel.
The English fleet was off the Naze of Norway by the 18th March. On the
23rd Mr. Vansittart, who had gone to Copenhagen, returned with the
news that the Danes would not surrender. On the 30th the fleet passed
the Sound, giving the Danish coast a wide berth, and not encountering
any opposition from the forts on the Swedish side. It anchored at
Hveen, an island in the Sound, about fifteen miles above Copenhagen.
Parker, Nelson, Rear-Admiral Graves, Domett the captain of the Fleet,
and Stewart, who commanded a contingent of soldiers carried by the
warships, reconnoitred the enemy’s position on the same day in the
lugger =Lark=. They soon saw that the Danes had not been negligent in
preparing to resist attack. The position to be assailed was a strong
one by nature. Copenhagen stands at the east end of the island of
Zeeland, on both sides of a narrow inlet running from N.E. to S.W. The
entrance to this inlet was (and is) covered by the Trekroner forts,
then mounting 68 guns. From the south side of the inlet the coast
runs to the south. The Danes had drawn up their floating defences,
line-of-battle ships without masts, frames and other vessels to the
number of thirty-seven, carrying 628 guns, along this bit of coast.
They were supported by batteries on shore, but as the sea is shallow
near the land the support was not very close. In front of the line was
the water of the King’s Deep (Konge-dyb) and beyond that the shoal
called the Middle Ground. On the eastern side of the Middle Ground is
the Hollander’s Deep (Hollaender-dyb). In the King’s Deep the water
is shallower on the eastern than on the western side. The admirals
were ignorant of this fact, for their pilots served them ill. These
so-called pilots were in fact mostly mates of merchant ships who had
traded to the Baltic. They knew just as much as was needed for their
trade, and proved both timid and untrustworthy. To fall on from Hveen
at the north end of the Danish line would have been to take the bull
by the horns, for the fleet must have begun by meeting the fire of
the Trekroner and of the heavy ships the Danes had placed close by
the forts. If the southern end was to be attacked then the fleet must
first go down the Hollander’s Deep, turn the end of the Middle Ground,
and work up the King’s Deep, where the navigable passage is barely
three-quarters of a mile wide. The waters were so little known that
our officers had no security that the thing could be done, and in any
case it was absolutely necessary to have the aid of a south-easterly
wind. The obstacles were so serious that when a council of war held
in Parker’s flagship, the =London=, on the night of the 30th, some
voices were for abstaining from attack. But Nelson was strong for
energetic action. He offered to give battle to the Danes, attacking by
the south end himself with ten ships. Sir Hyde Parker was persuaded
by his energy, gave his consent, and added two ships to the ten sail
asked for by Nelson. He did well to give them, but the naval position
of England would not be what it is if many of her admirals had been so
poor of spirit as to be ready to leave the peril and glory of battle to
subordinates.
On the 31st Nelson reconnoitred the Hollander’s Deep. On the 1st April,
the fleet weighed and anchored to the N.W. of the Middle Ground. In
the afternoon Nelson took the ships assigned to the south end of the
Ground and anchored for the night. His squadron was composed of the
=Elephant=, 74, Captain Foley, the flagship; =Defiance=, flagship
of Rear-Admiral Graves, whose captain was R. Retalick; =Edgar=, 74,
Captain Murray; =Monarch=, 74, Captain Mosse; =Bellona=, 74, Sir. T.
B. Thompson; =Ganges=, 74, Captain Fremantle; =Russell=, 74, Captain
Cuming; =Agamemnon=, 64, Captain Fancourt; =Ardent=, 64, Captain
Bertie; =Polyphemus=, 64, Captain Lawford; =Glatton=, 54, Captain
Bligh; and =Isis=, 50, Captain Walker. There were also eighteen
frigates, sloops, bombs, and fireships. The Danes, counting them from
south to north, were the _Prövesteen_, 56, a three-decker cut down
without masts; _Valkyrien_, 48, two-decker without masts; _Rendsborg_,
20, transport; _Nyborg_, 20, transport; _Jylland_, 48, two-decker,
without masts; _Suœrdfisken_, 20, floating battery, masted; _Kronborg_,
22, frigate, without masts; _Elven_, 6, sloop rigged; _Gerner_, 24,
battery, mastless; _Aggershuus_, 20, transport, mastless; _Sjcelland_,
7, two-decker, unrigged, _Charlotte Amalie_, 26, Indiaman; _Söhesten_,
18, masted, battery; _Holsteen_, 60, rigged line-of-battle ship;
_Infödstretten_, 64, two-decker, masted; _Hjeelperen_, 6, rigged
frigate; _Elephantin_, 70, line-of-battle ship without masts; _Maro_,
74, line-of-battle ship, mastless; _Denmark_, 74, rigged line-of-battle
ship; _Trekroner_, 74, ditto; _Iris_, 40, rigged frigate; _Tarpen_,
18, rigged brig; _Nidelven_, 8, ditto; and ten small craft of four
guns each. A glance at these lists is enough to show which of these
two forces was the more powerful. Even putting aside the ordnance
carried—which was 1014 pieces for the English, and 696 for the Danes,
including the Trekroner forts—our opponent marshalled a number of weak
little vessels quite unfit to meet the shock of the broadside of a
line-of-battle ship.
The night before the battle was spent by the English fleet in further
soundings in the unknown waters about it, and by Nelson in drawing up
his final dispositions. It was his intention to enter the King’s Deep
from the south, and advance as far as the Trekroner battery. It was
very naturally understood that Sir Hyde Parker should give his support
by attacking the north end of the Danish line with the ships which
remained with him. They were the =London=, 98, W. Domett, 1st captain,
Captain R. W. Otway, 2nd captain; and =St. George=, 98, Captain Hardy.
She was, properly speaking, Nelson’s flagship, but he left her for the
more handy =Elephant=, and Hardy accompanied on the day of battle. The
others were the =Warrior=, 74, Captain Tyler; =Defence=, 74, Captain
Lord Henry Paulet; =Saturn=, 74, Captain Lambert; =Ramillies=, 74,
Captain Dixon; =Raisonable=, 64, Captain Dilkes; and =Veteran=, 64,
Captain Dickson.
The wind blew fair from the S.E. on the morning of the 2nd April,
and the signal to attack was given at 9.30. The ships stood in with
various fortunes. The =Agamemnon=, which was to have led, had anchored
on the east of the Middle Ground, and was not able to round the point.
Her place as leader was taken by the =Edgar= which advanced till she
was abreast of the _Nyborg_, the fourth ship in the Danish line, and
then anchored by the stern. Then the =Polyphemus= anchored on the
port bow of the first Dane, the _Prövesteen_. The =Isis= passed the
=Polyphemus= and anchored on the quarter of the _Prövesteen_. The two
vessels which followed, the =Bellona= and the =Russell=, misled by the
mistaken belief that the water was deepest on the side of the Middle
Ground, went too near the shoal water and grounded. Their misfortune,
like the similar bad luck of the =Culloden= at the battle of the Nile,
acted as a warning to those behind. The first of these, the =Elephant=,
starboarded her helm, avoided the shallows, and took her station
opposite the centre of the Danish line, where she had only the _Elven_
and the _Dannebrog_ opposed to her. The =Glatton= and =Ardent= anchored
between the =Elephant= and the =Edgar=. The =Ganges=, =Monarch=, and
=Defiance= went ahead of the =Elephant=. The =Defiance=, the furthest
to the north of our ships, did not reach the northernmost point of
the Danish line. The English bombs were stationed behind the centre
of the line. Thus the Trekroner forts and the heavy ships near them
were attacked only by the frigates under Captain Riou, which suffered
severely. Parker detached three of the ships he had retained, the
=Veteran=, =Ramillies=, and the =Defence= to assail the Trekroner from
the north, but they had to tack against the S.E. wind, and could not
reach a position in which they could be of service in time. The action
began at 10 a.m. All the English ships were in position by 11.30, and
the action was of the hottest till about one o’clock. The Danes fought
very stoutly, and as men fell their places were taken by volunteers
from the shore.
Colonel Stewart has left a most lively account of the bearing of Nelson
in the midst of the conflict. In his narrative we see the small and
alert figure of the admiral pacing his quarter-deck, the stump of his
right arm leaping with a nervous movement, and his whole being uplifted
with exultation. The work was hot, he said, but not for the world would
he be elsewhere. It was the unaffected expression of the true nature
of a man to whom the _gaudia certaminis_ was no idle phrase. Yet the
=Elephant= had but feeble adversaries, and was among the least severely
tried ships in the line. Her 10 killed and 13 wounded was a trifling
loss beside the 24 killed and 51 wounded of the =Defiance=, the 31
killed and 111 wounded of the =Edgar=, the 30 killed and 64 wounded of
the =Ardent=, the 33 killed and 88 wounded of the =Isis=, an enormous
proportion for a 50-gun ship. All were surpassed by the casualty list
of the =Monarch=, the heaviest suffered by any of our line-of-battle
ships in the war, 56, including her captain, Mosse, killed, and 164
wounded, a full third of her crew. Seen from the deck of the =London=,
the position of the squadron looked more perilous even than it was.
Sir Hyde Parker, influenced perhaps by Captain Domett was early
inclined to hoist a signal of recall. There was a discussion between
Kim, Domett, and the captain of the =London=, Waller Otway. Finally
it was decided that Domett should go to the =Elephant= with a message
to Nelson telling him that he was free to obey the signal to retire
or to disregard it, as he judged fit. Domett did not go, for while he
was changing his dress Captain Otway, who is our authority for the
story, jumped into a passing boat to carry the message. He reached the
=Elephant= through many perils, but before he was alongside, the signal
had been hoisted and disregarded. Nelson, whose bearing shows that he
regarded the signal as an order and not as a permission, did not repeat
it. He gave expression to his derision by putting his telescope to his
blind eye and declaring that he could not see the signal.
The order was in fact foolish in the extreme, for the squadron could
only retire before the south-east wind through the narrow passage
in front of the Trekroner forts. The signal was disregarded by
Rear-Admiral Graves, and obeyed only by Riou’s frigates, which were
getting the worst of it in their engagement with the forts. They
retired, and Riou was killed in the retreat. Moreover, the fire in the
southern end of the Danish line was slackening. Vessels were silenced
and driven out of the line. In some cases the overpowered ships were
remanned from the shore and the fire resumed. There was nothing
irregular in this action of the Danes. They were perfectly entitled
to retake prizes if they could, and a ship was not even a prize till
possession was taken by the captors. But Nelson seized the opportunity
to bring the action to an end. He sent his letter to the Prince Regent
of Denmark, claiming a right to take undisturbed possession of the
vessels which had struck, and calling the Danes brothers. The Prince
Regent might well have treated the letter as a cry of distress. But he
had good reason to avail himself of the opportunity to put a stop to
the battle with credit. He knew that the Northern Coalition was in fact
dissolved before the battle began. He had been informed on the eve of
the 2nd April that the Czar, Paul, had been murdered in the night of
the 24th March, and he was well aware that the new Czar, Alexander I.,
would not be allowed to follow his father’s policy. Therefore he agreed
to arrange an armistice, and consented to stop his fire. Nelson took
possession of his prizes and hastened to evacuate the field of battle
he had won. The =Elephant= and =Defiance= grounded on their way out, a
pretty clear indication of what must have happened if Parker’s signal
had been obeyed under the fire of the forts. Nelson’s qualities as a
fighter of battles were never more conspicuously shown than in this
action, and they are not discredited in the least by the fact that,
as many great captains have done (and will do to the end of time), he
pieced out the hide of the lion by the skin of the fox.
The rest of the operations in the Baltic were of the nature of
formalities. The Swedes would not risk the six liners they had in
commission. While the fleet was in Kjöge Bay the Russians made
proposals for an armistice which it was much our interest to accept.
Sir Hyde Parker was recalled on the 5th May. Nelson, to whom the
command came, hurried to Revel in the hope of catching the Russian
squadron. He arrived on the 14th, eleven days after the Russians had
cut their way through the ice and had sailed to Cronstadt. The polite
letter he wrote to the Russian Government and his offer of a visit to
St. Petersburg, were met with the dry comment that his words were not
consistent with his actions, and a firm intimation that he must go
away. He growled, but he went, and on the 19th June he left the Baltic
at his own request.
The collapse of the Northern Coalition threw Napoleon into one of those
fits of convulsive fury in which he stormed with all the epileptic
rage of an Italian plebeian. He found what consolation he could in
accusing the English Government of having paid for the murder of the
Czar. But he still persevered in his efforts to send direct help to
his army in Egypt. As we have seen, he was driving Ganteaume hard all
through the spring. And he had another scheme on hand—a scheme which
was the forerunner of larger plans to be laid in the course of the
next few years. The French Government had purchased six Spanish ships
of the line then lying at Cadiz. They were to be manned by French
crews and commanded by Dumanoir Lepelley. The three French liners of
Ganteaume’s squadron, discarded by him at Leghorn, the _Indomptable_
and _Formidable_ of 80, and the _Desaix_, 74, were to sail from Toulon
to Cadiz. The nine were then to be joined by six Spaniards under Don
Juan Joaquin Moreno, and the fifteen were to sail for Egypt, picking up
soldiers in Italy on their way. It would be rash to say that Napoleon
would not have made movements corresponding to these with his armies.
He did many rash things with his armies, and while he was aided by
fortune and the timidity of his opponents his audacity was successful.
But on land his armies were handled by himself, were superior in
quality, and his opponents were nervous. At sea such daring was too
bold, for the superiority lay with the English. They knew it and were
confident. In this case the plan was particularly wild, because Sir
James Saumarez, an excellent officer, was cruising in the Straits, with
seven sail of the line, and was therefore at the very meeting-place of
these forces.
On the 13th June the three French ships named above, together with the
_Muiron_, 38, a frigate taken from the Venetians, left Toulon under
Rear-Admiral Durand Linois, carrying a detachment of troops, under
General Devaux. Ganteaume was in the midst of his rush to Egypt and
back. Warren, whose station was the Gulf of Lyons, was away looking for
him. Linois was able to leave the Gulf unopposed, but not unobserved by
the frigates Warren had left behind him. Those, and they are apparently
many, who suppose that a port can “command” a sea may observe that
Minorca proved no obstacle to Linois. His voyage was slow, and it
was not till the 1st July that he passed Gibraltar. He was informed
that there were only two English ships off Cadiz. On the 3rd July he
captured the brig =Speedy=, commanded by Lord Cochrane, afterwards the
famous Earl Dundonald, and learnt that there were in fact seven, and
that they were across his road. Napoleon had spoilt, or had materially
helped to spoil, his own plan for the relief of Egypt by his cunning.
He had spread a story that the united French and Spanish ships were to
attack Lisbon. His purpose was to draw the attention of the English
Government from the Levant. What he did was to convince his enemy that
Cadiz must be closely watched, for Lisbon was not only the capital of
our most trustworthy ally in Europe, but was a most important depôt
of English trade. Therefore Saumarez had been sent from England on
the 15th June with the =Cæsar=, 80, =Pompée=, 74, =Spencer=, 74,
=Hannibal=, 74, =Audacious=, 74, =Thames=, =Phæton=, frigates, and the
=Plymouth= lugger. He was joined in the Straits by the =Venerable=, 74,
and =Superb=, 74.
Here then was a warning example of what was likely to be the end of all
schemes for uniting squadrons which started from far distant ports,
and in the face of an alert enemy who operated on interior lines.
They could only succeed if these squadrons to be thus united had been
efficient. And then all this ingenuity would have been superfluous.
Saumarez could not have kept his station outside of Cadiz for
twenty-four hours if the thirteen Spaniards, then in the port, had been
more than the vain show of a squadron.
When he discovered what was in front of him Linois turned into
Algeciras Bay and anchored on the west side. On the south he was
covered by the Isla Verde, where there was a Spanish fort. On the
north he was supported by the battery Santiago. The shore is foul
with rocks. There were fifteen Spanish gunboats to give him help. He
anchored the _Formidable_ at the north end, opposite the Santiago fort;
south of her was the _Desaix_, and next to her the _Indomptable_. The
_Muiron_ was placed north-west of the Isla Verde. On the 5th July
Saumarez, acting on the established rule of the navy, attacked. He had
with him six of his seven liners, for Captain Keats of the =Superb=,
who had just been detached to the mouth of the Guadalquivir, was unable
to rejoin in time. The English squadron rounded Cabrita point at about
eight a.m., and fell on as well as they could. For fortune helped the
French greatly. The wind was light and erratic. The English ships could
not come into action either when or where they wished. Linois landed
soldiers to fight the ill-manned Spanish forts. The English ships at
the mercy of alternate puffs of wind and calms, could not come into
action together, and were badly mauled. The =Cæsar=, which engaged the
_Formidable_ and the _Desaix_, was nearly beaten to pieces. But the
worst fate befell the =Hannibal=, Captain Ferris, for she grounded, was
shattered thoroughly, and compelled to surrender. The French ships had
cut their cables and had beached themselves. Saumarez too had drawn
off, finding it impossible to press his attack thoroughly home.
The check was a shrewd one, for nothing could hide the fact that six
English ships of the line had attacked three French, supported by
batteries and gunboats it is true, and had drawn off with the loss of
one of their number. We had 121 killed and 240 wounded. The =Hannibal=
contributed 74 to the list of killed, and the survivors were prisoners.
The French confessed to 306 killed, and the wounded must have been more
numerous, but there is a doubt as to the numbers. The Spaniards too
lost men. Yet the allies could claim a success, though after all it
only helped to prove the essential weakness of Napoleon’s plan. Linois
was sure that he would be attacked by fireships, and appealed to his
friends at Cadiz for help. On the 9th the Spanish admiral, Moreno,
came round with six sail of the line to escort Linois. On the 12th the
nine, having their prize the =Hannibal= in tow, sailed for Cadiz. Their
fortunes before they got there showed how unfit they were to contend
with English squadrons at sea. Saumarez’ squadron had been refitted
with energy. The =Cæsar= was got ready by miracles of hard work on
the part of her crew and of seamanship on the part of her captain,
Jahleel Brenton. The =Superb=, at once rejoined, and the six followed
the nine allies, who went off in flight. During the night the pursuing
English squadron forced on an action. The enemy, going off in what was
to have been a line abreast, but rapidly became a confused huddle,
could only fight feebly in retreat. Two of the Spanish ships, the
mighty three-deckers, _San Hermenegildo_ and _Real Carlos_, caught fire
and blew up, with the loss of nearly all the 2000 men they carried.
The rest of the allies hurried as best they could to Cadiz, followed
by the English. Luck again helped the French, for the =Venerable=
grounded on the San Pedro rock while tackling the _Formidable_. But the
combination scheme had broken down, and Saumarez, in spite of the check
in Algeciras Bay, had, said St. Vincent, “put us on velvet.”
Turning movements, evasions, combinations, and coalitions had all
failed. The threat of direct attack was kept up till the armistice,
which was the preliminary to the Peace of Amiens, was signed on the 1st
October. Napoleon persevered in collecting small craft to be used for
the purpose of carrying an army to the shore of England. The scheme
was as old as the reign of Louis XV., and, as we have seen, had been
revived by the Directory in a feeble way. The invasion flotilla was
to be taken up again by Napoleon himself on a far larger scale two
years after 1801. It will be most appropriately discussed under the
later date. The policy of the First Consul in 1801 cannot be taken
as indicating a serious intention to attempt the invasion of England
at that time and with the resources then at his disposal. He brought
troops to the coast, and collected small transports, in order to
inspire fear in England, and thereby put pressure on her Government to
make the peace which was greatly desired by the country, tired as it
was by the strain of a long and laborious war. His aim was attained to
some extent. The seamen indeed treated the flotilla with contempt for
substantial reasons, which were excellently stated by Captain Beaver in
a paper which the reader will find printed as an appendix to his life
by Admiral Smyth. He pointed out that a swarm of small craft built
flat, so that they could work in shallow water and be beached, and
therefore leewardly, would be swept hither and thither in the currents
of the Channel. But the seamen failed to persuade their countrymen. It
has also been at all times impossible to convince soldiers that the
Channel and the North Sea cannot be crossed by an army as if they were
rivers. All the persons rudely described by St. Vincent as the “old
women” in and out of Parliament were greatly disturbed by the invasion
flotilla.
The Government was manifestly under an obligation to act against the
flotilla with vigour. It took the very best course it could find both
to quiet the mind of the country and to make sure that its directness
would be vigorously applied. It put Nelson in command of what may
be called a counter flotilla, operating from the coast between
Orfordness and Beachy Head, against the French flotilla, which was
being concentrated for the threatened dash at Boulogne. He hoisted his
flag in the =Medusa= frigate in the Downs on the 30th July, and went
instantly to work like the born fighter he was. The effectual course
would have been to land soldiers, take Boulogne, and burn the flotilla.
But our small army was quite unable to provide the 80,000 or 100,000
men needed for an offensive movement against the numerous troops of
Napoleon. There was nothing for it but to hit at his naval forces
with naval forces. The result of the manful efforts we made was no
surprise to the seamen. It was found to be impossible to prevent small
flat-bottomed craft, which could take the ground at low tide, and hug
the shore at high tide, from creeping along from creek to creek, and
shore battery to shore battery. The large vessels could not get near
enough to them on the shallow coast to do harm with the artillery of
the time, which had an effective range of about 1200 yards. With the
help of support from the shore they could generally deal with small
craft and boats. Therefore they could be concentrated at Boulogne. When
there they were collected at that point, and they could be protected.
The Boulogne flotilla was bombarded with some, but not much, effect
at its anchorage on the 4th August. We could not bring a sufficiently
heavy force near enough to do serious harm. But to bring the flotilla
to Boulogne was a useless preliminary to real work unless it could get
out. Its inability to make a sortie in open daylight, and with a good
wind, was confessed. What chance it had of succeeding in the venture,
in calm, fog, or long winter night, was shown on the 15th August.
A quadruple cutting-out expedition on a large scale was then despatched
by Nelson. It consisted of four divisions of armed boats, commanded
respectively by Captain E. T. Parker, Captain P. Somerville, Captain
Cotgrave, and Captain R. Jones. Parker reached the flotilla with his
division about midnight, but found that vessels swarming with men,
barricaded and swathed in boarding nettings, anchored head and stern,
fastened to one another by chains, constituted a floating fortress too
strong for his boats. He was himself mortally wounded, and his boats
repulsed with a loss of 21 killed and 42 wounded. The divisions of
Captain Cotgrave and Captain Somerville were more affected by the tide
than Parker’s. They reached the French anchorage later than he, and not
with their boats together. They too were repulsed with loss. Captain
Jones’ boats were swept to the eastward and failed to reach the enemy.
If this happened to the active, well-manned men-of-war boats, what must
have been the helplessness of the flat-bottomed craft of the flotilla
in the Channel currents. Our total loss was 44 killed and 126 wounded,
who all fell victims to the necessity for quieting the fears of the
“old women.”
The longing of both countries for peace could no longer be disregarded
by their Governments. An armistice was signed on the 1st October, and
a so-called peace was signed at Amiens on the 27th March 1802, though
Napoleon most assuredly did not mean it to endure, and no wise man in
England believed that it could last.