NELSON COMMANDS THE "SQUADRON ON A PARTICULAR SERVICE," FOR THE
DEFENCE OF THE COAST OF ENGLAND AGAINST INVASION.--SIGNATURE OF
PRELIMINARIES OF PEACE WITH FRANCE.
JULY-OCTOBER, 1801. AGE, 43.
Before sailing for the Baltic, and throughout his service in that sea,
the longing for repose and for a lover's paradise had disputed with
the love of glory for the empire in Nelson's heart, and signs were not
wanting that the latter was making a doubtful, if not a losing, fight.
Shortly before his departure for the North, he wrote to St. Vincent,
"Although, I own, I have met with much more honours and rewards than
ever my most sanguine ideas led me to expect, yet I am so
circumstanced that probably this Expedition will be the last service
ever performed by your obliged and affectionate friend." His old
commander was naturally perturbed at the thought that the illustrious
career, which he had done so much to foster, was to have the ignoble
termination to be inferred from these words and the notorious facts.
"Be assured, my dear Lord," he replied, "that every _public_[37] act
of your life has been the subject of my admiration, which I should
have sooner declared, but that I was appalled by the last sentence of
your letter: for God's sake, do not suffer yourself to be carried away
by any sudden impulse."
During his absence, the uncertain deferment of his desires had worked
together with the perverse indolence of Sir Hyde Parker, the fretting
sight of opportunities wasted, the constant chafing against the curb,
to keep both body and mind in perpetual unrest, to which the severe
climate contributed by undermining his health. This unceasing
discomfort had given enhanced charm to his caressing dreams of
reposeful happiness, soothed and stimulated by the companionship which
he so far had found to fulfil all his power of admiration, and all his
demands for sympathy. Released at last, he landed in England
confidently expecting to realize his hopes, only to find that they
must again be postponed. Reputation such as his bears its own penalty.
There was no other man in whose name England could find the calm
certainty of safety, which popular apprehension demanded in the new
emergency, that had arisen while he was upholding her cause in the
northern seas. Nelson repined, but he submitted. Within four weeks his
flag was flying again, and himself immersed in professional anxieties.
War on the continent of Europe had ceased definitively with the treaty
of Lunéville, between France and Austria, signed February 9, 1801.
Over four years were to elapse before it should recommence. But, as
Great Britain was to be the first to take up arms again to resist the
encroachments of Bonaparte, so now she was the last to consent to
peace, eager as her people were to have it. Malta had fallen, the
Armed Neutrality of the North had dissolved, the French occupation of
Egypt was at its last gasp. Foiled in these three directions by the
sea-power of Great Britain, unable, with all his manipulation of the
prostrate continent, to inflict a deadly wound, Bonaparte now resorted
to the threat of invasion, well aware that, under existing conditions,
it could be but a threat, yet hoping that its influence upon a people
accustomed to sleep securely might further his designs. But, though
the enchanter wove his spells to rouse the demon of fear, their one
effect was to bring up once more, over against him, the defiant form
of his arch-subverter. Both the Prime Minister, Addington, and the
First Lord of the Admiralty assured Nelson that his presence in charge
of the dispositions for defence, and that only, could quiet the public
mind. "I have seen Lord St. Vincent," he wrote the former, "and submit
to your and his partiality. Whilst my health will allow, I can only
say, that every exertion of mine shall be used to merit the
continuance of your esteem." St. Vincent, writing to him a fortnight
later, avowed frankly the weight attached to his very name by both
friend and foe. "Our negotiation is drawing near its close, and must
terminate one way or another in a few days, and, I need not add, how
very important it is that the enemy should know that _you_ are
constantly opposed to him."
The purpose of Bonaparte in 1801 is not to be gauged by the same
measure as that of 1803-1805. In 1798 he had told the then government
of France that to make a descent upon England, without being master of
the sea, would be the boldest and most difficult operation ever
attempted. Conditions had not changed since then, nor had he now the
time or the money to embark in the extensive preparations, which
afterwards gave assurance that he was in earnest in his threats. An
adept in making false demonstrations, perfectly appreciative of the
power of a great name, he counted upon his own renown, and his amazing
achievement of the apparently impossible in the past, to overawe the
imagination of a nation, whose will, rather than whose strength, he
hoped to subdue. Boulogne and the small neighboring ports, whose
nearness clearly indicated them as the only suitable base from which
an invasion could start, were in that year in no state to receive the
boats necessary to carry an army. This the British could see with
their own eyes; but who could be sure that the paper flotilla at
Boulogne, like the paper Army of Reserve at Dijon a year before, had
not elsewhere a substantial counterpart, whose sudden appearance might
yet work a catastrophe as unexpected and total as that of Marengo? And
who more apt than Bonaparte to spread the impression that some such
surprise was brewing? "I can venture to assure you that no embarkation
of troops can take place at Boulogne," wrote Nelson, immediately after
his first reconnoissance; but he says at the same time, "I have now
more than ever reason to believe that the ports of Flushing and
Flanders are much more likely places to embark men from, than Calais,
Boulogne, or Dieppe; for in Flanders we cannot tell by our eyes what
means they have collected for carrying an army." "Great preparations
at Ostend," he notes a week later; "Augereau commands that part of the
Army. I hope to let him feel the bottom of the Goodwin Sand." It was
just this sort of apprehension, specific in direction, yet vague and
elusive in details, that Bonaparte was skilled in disseminating.
St. Vincent, and the Government generally, agreed with Nelson's
opinion. "We are to look to Flanders for the great effort," wrote the
Earl to him. Neither of them had, nor was it possible for clear-headed
naval officers to have, any substantial, rational, fear of a descent
in force; yet the vague possibility did, for the moment, impress even
them, and the liability of the populace, and of the commercial
interests, to panic, was a consideration not to be overlooked.
Besides, in a certain way, there was no adequate preparation for
resistance. The British Navy, indeed, was an overwhelming force as
compared to the French; but its hands were fully occupied, and the
fleet Nelson had just left in the Baltic could not yet be recalled. It
was, however, in purely defensive measures, in the possession of a
force similar to that by which the proposed attack was to be made, and
in dispositions analogous to coast defences, that the means were
singularly defective, both in material and men. "Everything, my dear
Lord," wrote Nelson, the day after he hoisted his flag at Sheerness,
"must have a beginning, and we are literally at the foundation of our
fabric of defence;" but, he continues, reverting to his own and St.
Vincent's clear and accurate military intuitions, "I agree perfectly
with you, that we must keep the enemy as far from our own coasts as
possible, and be able to attack them the moment they come out of their
ports."
"Our first defence," he writes a fortnight later, showing the gradual
maturing of the views which he, in common with St. Vincent, held with
such illustrious firmness in the succeeding years, "is close to the
enemy's ports. When that is broke, others will come forth on our own
coasts." It was in the latter that the unexpected anxieties of 1801
found the Government deficient, and these it was to be Nelson's first
care to organize and dispose. By the time his duties were completed,
and the problems connected with them had been two months under his
consideration, he had reached the conclusion which Napoleon also held,
and upon which he acted. "This boat business may be a part of a great
plan of Invasion, but can never be the only one." From the first he
had contemplated the possibility of the French fleets in Brest and
elsewhere attempting diversions, such as Napoleon planned in support
of his later great projects. "Although I feel confident that the
fleets of the enemy will meet the same fate which has always attended
them, yet their sailing will facilitate the coming over of their
flotilla, as they will naturally suppose our attention will be called
only to the fleets."
What was feared in 1801 was not a grand military operation, in the
nature of an attempt at conquest, or, at the least, at injury so
serious as to be disabling, but rather something in the nature of a
great raid, of which the most probable object was the city of London,
the chief commercial centre. It was upon this supposition that the
instructions of the Admiralty to Nelson were framed, and upon this
also the memorandum as to methods, submitted by him to it, on the 25th
of July, 1801. "It is certainly proper to believe that the French are
coming to attack London. I will suppose that 40,000 men are destined
for this attack, or rather surprise." His plan is given first in his
own words, as due to a matter of so much importance; and to them the
writer appends a summary of the principal features, as understood by
him. These are not always easily to be seen on the face of the paper,
owing to the small time for its preparation, and the consequent
haste--off-hand almost--with which it was drawn up, as is further
indicated from the copy in the Admiralty being in his own writing.
MEMORANDA BY LORD NELSON, ON THE DEFENCE OF THE THAMES, ETC.
25th July, 1801.
Besides the stationed Ships at the different posts between the
North Foreland and Orfordness, as many Gun-vessels as can be
spared from the very necessary protection of the Coast of Sussex
and of Kent to the westward of Dover, should be collected, for
this part of the Coast must be seriously attended to; for
supposing London the object of surprise, I am of opinion that
the Enemy's object _ought_ to be the getting on shore as
speedily as possible, for the dangers of a navigation of
forty-eight hours, appear to me to be an insurmountable
objection to the rowing from Boulogne to the Coast of Essex. It
is therefore most probable (for it is certainly proper to
believe the French are coming to attack London, and therefore to
be prepared) that from Boulogne, Calais, and even Havre, that
the enemy will try and land in Sussex, or the lower part of
Kent, and from Dunkirk, Ostend, and the other Ports of Flanders,
to land on the Coast of Essex or Suffolk; for I own myself of
opinion that, the object being to get on shore somewhere within
100 miles of London, as speedily as possible, that the Flats in
the mouth of the Thames will not be the only place necessary to
attend to; added to this, the Enemy will create a powerful
diversion by the sailing of the Combined Fleet, and the either
sailing, or creating such an appearance of sailing, of the Dutch
Fleet, as will prevent Admiral Dickson from sending anything
from off the great Dutch Ports, whilst the smaller Ports will
spew forth its Flotilla,--viz., Flushing, &c. &c. It must be
pretty well ascertained what number of small Vessels are in each
Port.
"I will suppose that 40,000 men are destined for this attack, or
rather surprise, of London; 20,000 will land on the west side of
Dover, sixty or seventy miles from London, and the same number
on the east side: they are too knowing to let us have but one
point of alarm for London. Supposing 200 craft, or 250,
collected at Boulogne &c, they are supposed equal to carry
20,000 men. In very calm weather, they might row over, supposing
no impediment, in twelve hours; at the same instant, by
telegraph, the same number of troops would be rowed out of
Dunkirk, Ostend, &c. &c. These are the two great objects to
attend to from Dover and the Downs, and perhaps one of the small
Ports to the westward. Boulogne (which I call the central point
of the Western attack) must be attended to. If it is calm when
the Enemy row out, all our Vessels and Boats appointed to watch
them, must get into the Channel, and meet them as soon as
possible: if not strong enough for the attack, they must watch,
and keep them company till a favourable opportunity offers. If a
breeze springs up, our Ships are to deal _destruction_; no
delicacy can be observed on this great occasion. But should it
remain calm, and our Flotilla not fancy itself strong enough to
attack the Enemy on their passage, the moment that they begin to
touch our shore, strong or weak, our Flotilla of Boats must
attack as much of the Enemy's Flotilla as they are able--say
only one-half or two-thirds; it will create a most powerful
diversion, for the bows of our Flotilla will be opposed to their
unarmed sterns, and the courage of Britons will never, I
believe, allow one Frenchman to leave the beach. A great number
of Deal and Dover Boats to be on board our vessels off the Port
of Boulogne, to give notice of the direction taken by the Enemy.
If it is calm, Vessels in the Channel can make signals of
intelligence to our shores, from the North Foreland to
Orfordness, and even as far as Solebay, not an improbable
place, about seventy or eighty miles from London.
"A Flotilla to be kept near Margate and Ramsgate, to consist of
Gun-boats and Flat-boats; another Squadron to be stationed near
the centre, between Orfordness and North Foreland, and the third
in Hoseley Bay.[38] The Floating Batteries are stationed in all
proper positions for defending the different Channels, and the
smaller Vessels will always have a resort in the support of the
stationed ships. The moment of the Enemy's movement from
Boulogne, is to be considered as the movement of the Enemy from
Dunkirk. Supposing it calm, the Flotillas are to be rowed, and
the heavy ones towed, (except the stationed Ships), those near
Margate, three or four leagues to the north of the North
Foreland; those from Hoseley Bay, a little approaching the
Centre Division, but always keeping an eye towards Solebay; the
Centre Division to advance half-way between the two. The more
fast Rowing boats, called Thames Galleys, which can be procured
the better, to carry orders, information, &c. &c.
"Whenever the Enemy's Flotilla can be seen, our Divisions are to
unite, but not intermix, and to be ready to execute such orders
as may be deemed necessary, or as the indispensable
circumstances may require. For this purpose, men of such
confidence in each other should be looked for, that (as far as
human foresight can go,) no little jealousy may creep into any
man's mind, but to be all animated with the same desire of
preventing the descent of the Enemy on our Coasts. Stationary
Floating Batteries are not, from any apparent advantage, to be
moved, for the tide may prevent their resuming the very
important stations assigned them; they are on no account to be
supposed neglected, even should the Enemy surround them, for
they may rely on support, and reflect that perhaps their gallant
conduct may prevent the mischievous designs of the Enemy.
Whatever plans may be adopted, the moment the Enemy touch our
Coast, be it where it may, they are to be attacked by every man
afloat and on shore: this must be perfectly understood. _Never
fear the event_. The Flat Boats can probably be manned (partly,
at least,) with the Sea Fencibles, (the numbers or fixed places
of whom I am entirely ignorant of,) but the Flat Boats they may
man to be in grand and sub-divisions, commanded by their own
Captains and Lieutenants, as far as is possible. The number of
Flat Boats is unknown to me, as also the other means of defence
in Small Craft; but I am clearly of opinion that a proportion of
the small force should be kept to watch the Flat-Boats from
Boulogne, and the others in the way I have presumed to suggest.
These are offered as merely the rude ideas of the moment, and
are only meant as a Sea plan of defence for the City of London;
but I believe other parts may likewise be menaced, if the Brest
fleet, and those from Rochfort and Holland put to sea; although
I feel confident that the Fleets of the Enemy will meet the same
fate which has always attended them, yet their sailing will
facilitate the coming over of their Flotilla, as they will
naturally suppose our attention will be called only to the
Fleets."
Coming by water, the expectation seems to have been that the enemy
might proceed up the river, or to a landing on some of the flats at
the mouth of the Thames. Nelson says expressly that he does not think
those alone are the points to be guarded; but he characterizes his
paper as being "only meant as a sea plan of defence for the city of
London," and the suggestion already noticed, that the enemy's fleet
will support the attack by diversions, is merely mentioned casually.
London being the supposed object, and the Thames the highway, the
purely defensive force is to be concentrated there; the Channel
coasts, though not excluded, are secondary. "As many gun-vessels as
can be spared from the very necessary protection of the coast of
Sussex, and of Kent to the westward of Dover, should be collected
between the North Foreland and Orfordness, for this part of the coast
must be seriously attended to."
The attack is expected in this quarter, because from Flanders and
Flushing it is the most accessible. The object, Nelson thinks, will be
to get on shore as speedily as possible, and therefore somewhere
within one hundred miles of London. Anywhere from the westward of
Dover round to Solebay--"not an improbable place"--must be looked upon
as a possible landing. If there are forty thousand men coming, he
regards it as certain that they will come in two principal bodies, of
twenty thousand each--"they are too knowing to let us have but one
point of alarm for London." "From Boulogne, Calais, and even Havre,
the enemy will try and land in Sussex, or the lower part of Kent; and
from Dunkirk, Ostend, and the other ports of Flanders, to land on the
coast of Essex or Suffolk." "In very calm weather, they might row over
from Boulogne, supposing no impediment, in twelve hours; at the same
instant, by telegraph, the same number of troops would be rowed out of
Dunkirk, Ostend, &c. &c. Added to this, the enemy will create a
powerful diversion by the sailing of the combined fleet, and either
the sailing, or creating such an appearance of sailing, of the Dutch
fleet, as will prevent Admiral Dickson [commander-in-chief in the
North Sea] from sending anything from off the great Dutch ports,
whilst the smaller ports will spew forth its flotilla--viz, Flushing
&c. &c."
To frustrate that part of this combined effort which is supposed to be
directed against the Channel coast, Nelson proposes that, "if it is
calm when the enemy row out, all our vessels and boats appointed to
watch them, must get into the Channel, and meet them as soon as
possible; if not strong enough for the attack, they must watch, and
keep them company till a favourable opportunity offers. Should it
remain calm," so that the cruising ships cannot assist, "the moment
that they begin to touch our shore, strong or weak, our flotilla of
boats must attack as much of the enemy's flotilla as they are
able--say only one half or two thirds--it will create a most powerful
diversion, for the bows of our flotilla will be opposed to their
unarmed sterns."
The dispositions to defend the entrance of the Thames, being
considered the more important, are the more minute. Blockships are
stationed in the principal channels, as floating fortifications,
commanding absolutely the water around them, and forming strong points
of support for the flotilla. It is sagaciously ordered that these "are
not, from any apparent advantage, to be moved, for the tide may
prevent their resuming the very important stations assigned them."
Nelson was evidently alive to that advantage in permanent works, which
puts it out of the power of panic to stampede them; tide is not the
only factor that prevents retrieving a false step. The eastern
flotilla is organized into three bodies, the right wing being near
Margate, the left in Hollesley Bay near Harwich, the centre, vaguely,
between Orfordness and the North Foreland. When the alarm is given,
they are to draw together towards the centre, but not to emphasize
their movement sufficiently to uncover either flank, until the enemy's
flotilla can be seen; then they are "to unite, but not intermix."
To both divisions--that in the Channel and that on' the East
Coast--the commander-in-chief, in concluding, renews his charge, with
one of those "Nelson touches" which electrified his followers:
"Whatever plans may be adopted, the moment the enemy touch our coast,
be it where it may, they are to be attacked by every man afloat and on
shore: this must be perfectly understood. _Never fear the event_."
This plan for the defence of London against an attack by surprise,
drawn up by Nelson on the spur of the moment, was based simply upon
his general ideas, and without specific information yet as to either
the character or extent of the enemy's preparations, or of the means
of resistance available on his own side. It has, therefore, something
of an abstract character, embodying broad views unmodified by special
circumstances, and possessing, consequently, a somewhat peculiar
value in indicating the tendency of Nelson's military conceptions. He
assumes, implicitly, a certain freedom of movement on the part of the
two opponents, unrestricted by the friction and uncertainty which in
practice fetter action; and the use which, under these conditions, he
imagines either will make of his powers, may not unfairly be assumed
to show what he thought the correct course in such a general case.
Prominent among his ideas, and continuous in all his speculations as
to the movements of an enemy, from 1795 onward, is the certainty that,
for the sake of diversion, Bonaparte will divide his force into two
great equal fragments, which may land at points so far apart, and
separated by such serious obstacles, as were Solebay and Dover. Those
who will be at the trouble to recall his guesses as to the future
movements of the French in the Riviera, Piedmont, and Tuscany, in 1795
and 1796, as well as his own propositions to the Austrians at the same
period, will recognize here the recurrence, unchastened by experience
or thought, of a theory of warfare it is almost impossible to approve.
That Bonaparte,--supposed to be master of his first movements,--if he
meant to land in person at Dover, would put half his army ashore at
Solebay, is as incredible as that he would have landed one half at
Leghorn, meaning to act with the other from the Riviera. If this
criticism be sound, it would show that Nelson, genius as he was,
suffered from the lack of that study which reinforces its own
conclusions by the experience of others; and that his experience,
resting upon service in a navy so superior in quality to its enemies,
that great inferiority in number or position could be accepted, had
not supplied the necessary corrective to an ill-conceived readiness to
sub-divide.
The resultant error is clearly traceable, in the author's opinion, in
his dispositions at Copenhagen, and in a general tendency to allow
himself too narrow a margin, based upon an under-valuation of the
enemy not far removed from contempt. It was most fortunate for him, in
the Baltic, that Parker increased to twelve the detachment he himself
had fixed at ten. The last utterances of his life, however, show a
distinct advance and ripening of the judgment, without the slightest
decrease of the heroic resolution that so characterized him. "I have
twenty-three sail with me," he wrote a fortnight before Trafalgar,
"and should they come out I will immediately bring them to battle; ...
but I am _very, very, very_ anxious for the arrival of the force which
is intended. It is, as Mr. Pitt knows, annihilation that the country
wants, and not merely a splendid victory of twenty-three to
thirty-six. Numbers only can annihilate."
The assumption that Bonaparte's plan would be such as he mentioned,
naturally controlled Nelson in the dispositions he sketched for the
local defence of the shore lines. The invasion being in two bodies,
the defence was to be in two bodies also; nor is there any suggestion
of a possibility that these two might be united against one of the
enemy's. The whole scheme is dual; yet, although the chance of either
division of the British being largely inferior to the enemy opposed to
it is recognized, the adoption of a central position, or concentration
upon either of the enemy's flotillas, apparently is not contemplated.
Such uncertainty of touch, when not corrected by training, is the
natural characteristic of a defence essentially passive; that is, of a
defence which proposes to await the approach of the enemy to its own
frontier, be that land or water. Yet it scarcely could have failed
soon to occur to men of Nelson's and St. Vincent's martial capacities,
that a different disposition, which would clearly enable them to unite
and intercept either one of the enemy's divisions, must wreck the
entire project; for the other twenty thousand men alone could not do
serious or lasting injury. The mere taking a position favorable to
such concentration would be an adequate check. The trouble for them
undoubtedly was that which overloads, and so nullifies, all schemes
for coast defence resting upon popular outcry, which demands outward
and visible protection for every point, and assurance that people at
war shall be guarded, not only against broken bones, but against even
scratches of the skin.
This uneducated and weak idea, that protection is only adequate when
co-extensive with the frontier line threatened, finds its natural
outcome in a system of defence by very small vessels, in great
numbers, capable of minute subdivision and wide dispersal, to which an
equal tonnage locked up in larger ships cannot be subjected. Although
St. Vincent was at the head of the Admiralty which in 1801 ordered
that Nelson should first organize such a flotilla, and only after that
proceed to offensive measures, the results of his experience now were
to form--or at the least to confirm in him--the conclusion which he
enunciated, and to which he persistently held, during the later truly
formidable preparations of Napoleon. "Our great reliance is on the
vigilance and activity of our cruisers at sea, any reduction in the
number of which, by applying them to guard our ports, inlets, and
beaches, would in my judgment tend to our destruction." Very
strangely, so far as the author's opinion goes, Nelson afterwards
expressed an apparently contrary view, and sustained Mr. Pitt in his
attack upon St. Vincent's administration on this very point; an
attack, in its tendency and in the moment chosen, among the most
dangerous to his country ever attempted by a great and sagacious
statesman. Nelson, however, writing in May, 1804, says: "I had wrote a
memoir, many months ago, upon the propriety of a flotilla. I had that
command at the end of the last war, and I know the necessity of it,
even had you, and which you ought to have, thirty or forty sail of the
line in the Downs and North Sea, besides frigates &c.; but having
failed so entirely in submitting my mind upon three points I was
disheartened." This Memoir has not been preserved, but it will be
noticed that, in expressing his difference from St. Vincent in the
words quoted, he assumes, what did not at any time exist, thirty or
forty sail-of-the-line for the North Sea and the Downs. St. Vincent's
stand was taken on the position that the flotilla could not be manned
without diminishing the cruisers in commission, which were far short
of the ideal number named by Nelson. It may be believed, or at least
hoped, that if forced to choose between the two, as St. Vincent was,
his choice would have been that of the great Earl. It seems clear,
however, that in 1804 he believed it possible that the Army of
Invasion _might_ get as far as the shores of England--a question which
has been much argued. "I am very uneasy," he then wrote to Lady
Hamilton, "at your and Horatia being on the coast: for you cannot
move, if the French make the attempt."
Whatever weight may be attributed to this criticism on Nelson's
hastily sketched scheme, there can scarcely be any discord in the note
of admiration for the fire that begins to glow, the instant he in
thought draws near the enemy. There, assuredly, is no uncertain sound.
They must be met as soon as possible; if not strong enough to attack,
they must be watched, and company kept, till a favorable opportunity
offers. If none occur till they draw near the beach, then, "Whatever
plans may be adopted, the moment they touch our coast, be it where it
may, they are to be attacked by every man afloat and on shore: this
must be perfectly understood. Never fear the event." The resolution
shown by such words is not born of carelessness; and the man who
approaches his work in their spirit will wring success out of many
mistakes of calculation--unless indeed he stumble on an enemy of equal
determination. The insistence upon keeping the enemy under
observation, "keeping company" with them, however superior in
numbers, may also be profitably noted. This inspired his whole
purpose, four years later, in the pursuit of the French to the West
Indies--if the odds are too great for immediate attack, "We won't part
without a battle." It was the failure to hold the same principle of
action, applicable to such diverse cases, that ruined Calder in the
same campaign.
With the general views that have been outlined, Nelson hastened to his
task. His commission for the new service was dated July 24, three
weeks after his return from the Baltic. On the 25th he presented the
memorandum of operations which has been discussed, on the 26th the
Admiralty issued their instructions, and on the 27th he hoisted his
flag upon the "Unité" frigate at Sheerness. "I shall go on board this
day," he said, "in order to show we must all get to our posts as
speedily as possible." His orders, after mentioning the general reason
for creating the "Squadron on a Particular Service," as his command
was officially styled, designated the limits of his charge, coastwise,
as from Orfordness, on the Suffolk shore, round to Beachy Head, on the
Channel. On the enemy's side of the water, it extended from end to end
of the line of ports from which the especial danger of an invasion by
troops might be supposed to issue--from Dieppe to Ostend; but the
mouth of the Scheldt was implicitly included.
The district thus assigned to him was taken out of the commands
hitherto held by some very reputable admirals, senior to himself, who
otherwise retained their previous charges, surrounding and touching
his own; while at the Scheldt he trenched closely upon the province of
the commander-in-chief in the North Sea. Such circumstances are
extremely liable to cause friction and bad blood, and St. Vincent, who
with all his despotism was keenly alive to the just susceptibilities
of meritorious officers, was very careful to explain to them that he
had with the greatest reluctance yielded to the necessity of
combining the preparations for defence under a single flag-officer,
who should have no other care. The innate tact, courtesy, and
thoughtful consideration which distinguished Nelson, when in normal
conditions, removed all other misunderstandings. "The delicacy you
have always shown to senior officers," wrote St. Vincent to him, "is a
sure presage of your avoiding by every means in your power to give
umbrage to Admiral Dickson, who seems disposed to judge favourably of
the intentions of us all: it is, in truth, the most difficult card we
have to play." "Happy should I be," he said at another time, "to place
the whole of our offensive and defensive war under your auspices, but
you are well aware of the difficulties on that head." From first to
last there is no trace of a serious jar, and Nelson's instructions to
his subordinates were such as to obviate the probability of any. "I
feel myself, my dear Lord," he wrote St. Vincent, relative to a
projected undertaking on the Dutch coast, "as anxious to get a medal,
or a step in the peerage as if I had never got either. If I succeeded,
and burnt the Dutch fleet, probably medals and an earldom. I must have
had every desire to try the matter, regardless of the feelings of
others; but I should not have been your Nelson, that wants not to take
honours or rewards from any man; and if ever I feel great, it is, my
dear Lord, in never having, in thought, word, or deed, robbed any man
of his fair fame."
He was accompanied from London by a young commander, Edward Parker,
who seems first to have become known to him in the Baltic, and who now
acted as an additional aide. The latter was filled with the
admiration, felt by most of those thrown into contact with Nelson, for
the rapidity with which he transacted business, and set all about him
in movement. "He is the cleverest and quickest man, and the most
zealous in the world. In the short time we were in Sheerness, he
regulated and gave orders for thirty of the ships under his command,
made every one pleased, filled them with emulation, and set them all
on the _qui vive_." In forty-eight hours he was off again for the
Downs, by land, having to make some inquiries on the way as to the
organization, and readiness to serve, of the Sea Fencibles, a large
body of naval reserves, who were exempt from impressment upon the
understanding that they would come forward for coast defence, in case
of threatened invasion. Concerning their dispositions he received
fairly flattering assurances, which in the event were not realized. If
the men were certified that they would not be detained after the
danger was over, it was said, they certainly would go on board. "This
service, my dear Lord," he wrote to St. Vincent, "above all others,
would be terrible for me: to get up and harangue like a recruiting
sergeant; but as I am come forth, I feel that I ought to do this
disagreeable service as well as any other, if judged necessary."
Three days more, and he was off Boulogne in a frigate with some
bomb-vessels. The French admiral, Latouche Tréville, had moored in
front of the pier a line of gun-vessels, twenty-four in number,
fastened together from end to end. At these, and at the shipping in
the small port, some bombs were thrown. Not much injury was done on
either side. Prevented by an easterly wind from going on to Flushing,
as he had intended, Nelson returned to Margate on the 6th of August,
issued a proclamation to the Fencibles, assuring them that the French
undoubtedly intended an invasion, that their services were absolutely
required at once on board the defence-ships, and that they could rely
upon being returned to their homes as soon as the danger was over. Out
of twenty-six hundred, only three hundred and eighty-five volunteered
to this urgent call. "They are no more willing to give up their
occupations than their superiors," wrote Nelson, with
characteristically shrewd insight into a frame of mind wholly alien
to his own self-sacrificing love of Country and of glory.
Hurrying from station to station, on the shores, and in the channels
of the Thames, he was on the 12th of August back at Margate, evidently
disappointed in the prospects for coast-defence, and more and more
inclining to the deep-sea cruising, and to action on the enemy's
coast, recommended by the Admiralty, and consonant to his own temper,
always disdainful of mere defensive measures. "Our active force is
perfect," he wrote to St. Vincent, "and possesses so much zeal that I
only want to catch that Buonaparte on the water." He has satisfied
himself that the French preparations were greatly exaggerated;
Boulogne in fact could not harbor the needed vessels, unless enlarged,
as afterwards by Napoleon. "Where is our invasion to come from? The
_time_ is gone." Nevertheless, he favors an attack of some sort,
suggests an expedition against Flushing, with five thousand troops,
and proposes a consultation. St. Vincent replied that he did not
believe in consultations, and had always avoided them. "I disapprove
of unnecessary consultations as much as any man," retorted Nelson,
"yet being close to the Admiralty, I should not feel myself justified
in risking our ships through the channels of Flushing without buoys
and pilots, without a consultation with such men as your Lordship, and
also I believe you would think an order absolutely necessary." "Lord
St. Vincent tells me he hates councils," he writes rather sorely to
Addington. "So do I between military men; for if a man consults
whether he is to fight, when he has the power in his own hands, _it is
certain that his opinion is against fighting_; but that is not the
case at present, and I own I do want good council. Lord St. Vincent is
for keeping the enemy closely blockaded; but I see they get alongshore
inside their sand banks, and under their guns, which line the coast of
France. Lord Hood is for keeping our squadrons of defence stationary
on our own shore (except light cutters to give information of every
movement of the enemy).... When men of such good sense, such great
sea-officers, differ so widely, is it not natural that I should wish
the mode of defence to be well arranged by the mature consideration of
men of judgment?"
Meanwhile he had again gone off Boulogne, and directed an attack in
boats upon the line of vessels moored outside. He took great care in
the arrangements for this hazardous expedition, giving personal
supervision to all details. "As you may believe, my dear Emma," he
wrote to her who had his closest confidence, "my mind feels at what is
going forward this night; it is one thing to order and arrange an
attack, and another to execute it; but I assure you I have taken much
more precaution for others, than if I was to go myself--then my mind
would be perfectly at ease." He professed, and probably felt, entire
confidence in the result. Fifty-seven boats were detailed for the
attack. They were in four divisions, each under a commander; Edward
Parker having one. Each division was to advance in two columns, the
boats of which were secured one to another by tow-ropes; a precaution
invaluable to keep them together, though rendering progress slower.
The points in the enemy's line which each division was to make for
were clearly specified, and special boats told off and fitted to tow
out any vessels that were captured. Simultaneous with this onslaught,
a division of howitzer flatboats was to throw shot into the port.
At half-past eleven on the night of August 15th, the boats, which had
assembled alongside the flag-frigate "Medusa," shoved off together;
but the distance which they had to pull, with the strong, uncertain
currents, separated them; and, as so often happens in concerted
movements, attacks intended to be simultaneous were made
disconnectedly, while the French were fully prepared. The first
division of the British arrived at half-past twelve, and after a
desperate struggle was beaten off, Commander Parker being mortally
wounded. Two other divisions came up later, while the fourth lost its
way altogether. The affair was an entire failure, except so far as to
show that the enemy would be met on their own shores, rather than on
those of Great Britain. The British loss was forty-four killed, and
one hundred and twenty-eight wounded.
Nelson returned to the Downs, bitterly grieved, but not greatly
discouraged. The mishap, he said, was due to the boats not arriving at
the same moment; and that, he knew, was caused by conditions of
currents, which would ever prevent the dull flatboats of the enemy
moving in a concert that the cutters of ships of war had not attained.
"The craft which I have seen," he wrote, "I do not think it possible
to _row_ to England; and sail they cannot." As yet, however, he had
not visited Flushing, and he felt it necessary to satisfy himself on
that point. On the 24th of August, taking some pilots with him, he
went across and inspected the ground, where the officer in charge of
the British observing squadron was confident something might be
effected. Nelson, however, decided otherwise. "I cannot but admire
Captain Owen's zeal in his anxious desire to get at the enemy, but I
am afraid it has made him overleap sand-banks and tides, and laid him
aboard the enemy. I could join most heartily in his desire; but we
cannot do impossibilities, and I am as little used to find out the
impossibles as most folks; and I think I can discriminate between the
impracticable and the fair prospect of success." By the 27th of August
he had returned to the Downs, where, with a brief and unimportant
intermission, he remained until the cessation of hostilities with
France in October.
Satisfied that invasion was, for that year at least, an empty menace,
Nelson fell again into the tone of angry and fretful complaint which
was so conspicuous in the last weeks of his stay in the Baltic. To
borrow the words of a French admirer, "He filled the Admiralty with
his caprices and Europe with his fame." Almost from his first contact
with this duty, it had been distasteful to him. "There is nothing to
be done on the great scale," he said. "I own, my dear Lord," he told
St. Vincent, "that this boat warfare is not exactly congenial to my
feelings, and I find I get laughed at for my puny mode of attack." As
usual, he threw himself with all his might into what he had to do, but
the inward friction remained. "Whilst I serve, I will do it actively,
and to the very best of my abilities. I have all night had a fever,
which is very little abated this morning; my mind carries me beyond my
strength, and will do me up; but such is my nature. I require nursing
like a child."
That he was far from well is as unquestionable as that his distemper
proceeded largely from his mind, if it did not originate there. "Our
separation is terrible," he writes to Lady Hamilton; "my heart is
ready to flow out of my eyes. I am not unwell, but I am very low. I
can only account for it by my absence from all I hold dear in this
world." From the first he had told St. Vincent that he could not stay
longer than September 14th, that it was beyond his strength to stand
the equinoctial weather. The veteran seaman showed towards him the
same delicate consideration that he always had, using the flattering
urgency which Nelson himself knew so well how to employ, in eliciting
the hearty co-operation of others. "The public mind is so much
tranquillised by your being at your post, it is extremely desirable
that you should continue there: in this opinion all His Majesty's
servants, with Sir Thomas Troubridge, agree. Let me entreat your
Lordship to persevere in the measures you are so advantageously
employed in, and give up, at least for the present, your intention of
returning to town, which would have the worst possible effect at this
critical juncture. The dispositions you have made, and are making,
appear to us all as the most judicious possible." "I hope you will
not relinquish your situation at a moment when the services of every
man are called for by the circumstances the Country is placed in, so
imperiously that, upon reflection, I persuade myself you will think as
I, and every friend you have, do on this subject." Nelson admitted, in
a calmer moment, that "although my whole soul is devoted to get rid of
this command, yet I do not blame the Earl for wishing to keep me here
a little longer." "Pray take care of your health," the latter says
again, "than which nothing is of so much consequence to the Country at
large, more particularly so to your very affectionate St. Vincent."
"Your health is so precious at all times, more particularly so at this
crisis."
St. Vincent tried in vain to conjure with the once beloved name of
Troubridge, whom Nelson used to style the "Nonpareil," whose merits he
had been never weary of extolling, and whose cause he had pleaded so
vehemently, when the accident of his ship's grounding deprived him of
his share in the Battle of the Nile. From the moment that he was
chosen by St. Vincent, who called him the ablest adviser and best
executive officer in the British Navy, to assist in the administration
of the Admiralty, Nelson began to view him jealously. "Our friend
Troubridge is to be a Lord of the Admiralty, and I have a sharp eye,
and almost think I see it. No, poor fellow, I hope I do him injustice;
he cannot surely forget my kindness to him." But when the single eye
has become double, suspicion thrives, and when tortured by his desire
to return to Lady Hamilton, Nelson saw in every obstacle and every
delay the secret hand of Troubridge. "I believe it is all the plan of
Troubridge," he wrote in one such instance, "but I have wrote both him
and the Earl my mind." To St. Vincent, habit and professional
admiration enabled him to submit, if grudgingly, and with constant
complaints to his _confidante_; but Troubridge, though now one of the
Board that issued his orders, was his inferior in grade, and he
resented the imagined condition of being baffled in his wishes by a
junior. The latter, quick-tempered and rough of speech, but true as
his sword, to use St. Vincent's simile, must have found himself put to
it to uphold the respect due to his present position, without wronging
the affection and reverence which he undoubtedly felt for his old
comrade, and which in the past he had shown by the moral courage that
even ventured to utter a remonstrance, against the infatuation that
threatened to stain his professional honor.
Such straining of personal relations constantly accompanies accession
to office; many are the friendships, if they can be called such, which
cannot endure the experience that official action may not always be
controlled by them. If such is to be noted in Nelson, it is because he
was no exception to the common rule, and it is sad that a man so great
should not in this have been greater than he was. St. Vincent felt it
necessary to tell him, with reference to the difficulty of granting
some requests for promotion, "Encompassed as I am by applications and
presumptuous claims, I have nothing for it but to act upon the
defensive, as your Lordship will be compelled to do, whenever you are
placed in the situation I at present fill." This Nelson contents
himself with quoting; but of Troubridge he says: "Troubridge has so
completely prevented my mentioning any body's service, that I am
become a cypher, and he has gained a victory over Nelson's spirit.
Captain Somerville has been begging me to intercede with the Admiralty
again; but I have been so _rebuffed_, that my spirits are gone, and
the _great_ Troubridge has what we call _cowed_ the spirits of Nelson;
but I shall never forget it. He told me if I asked anything more that
I should get nothing. No wonder I am not well."
The refusal of the Admiralty to give him leave to come to London,
though founded on alleged motives of state, he thinks absurd. "They
are beasts for their pains," he says; "it was only depriving me of one
day's comfort and happiness, for which they have my hearty prayers."
His spleen breaks out in oddly comical ways. "I have a letter from
Troubridge, recommending me to wear flannel shirts. Does he care for
me? _No_; but never mind." "Troubridge writes me, that as the weather
is set in fine again, he hopes I shall get walks on shore. He is, I
suppose, laughing at me; but, never mind." Petulant words, such as
quoted, and others much more harsh, used to an intimate friend, are of
course to be allowed for as indicating mental exasperation and the
excitement of baffled longings, rather than expressing permanent
feeling; but still they illustrate mental conditions more faithfully
than do the guarded utterances of formal correspondence. Friendship
rarely regains the ground lost in them. The situation did undoubtedly
become exasperating towards the end, for no one pretended that any
active service could be expected, or that his function was other than
that of a signal displayed, indicating that Great Britain, though
negotiating for peace, was yet on her guard. Lying in an open
roadstead, with a heavy surf pouring in on the beach many days of the
week, a man with one arm and one eye could not easily or safely get
back and forth; and, being in a small frigate pitching and tugging at
her anchors, he was constantly seasick, so much so "that I cannot hold
up my head," afflicted with cold and toothache,--"but none of them
cares a d--n for me and my sufferings."
In September the Hamiltons came to Deal, off which the ship was lying,
and remained for a fortnight, during which he was happy; but the
reaction was all the more severe when they returned to town on the
20th. "I came on board, but no Emma. No, no, my heart will break. I am
in silent distraction.... My dearest wife, how can I bear our
separation? Good God, what a change! I am so low that I cannot hold up
my head." His depression was increased by the condition of Parker,
the young commander, who had been wounded off Boulogne, and had since
then hovered between life and death. The thigh had been shattered too
far up for amputation, and the only faint hope had been that the bones
might reunite. The day that the Hamiltons left, the great artery
burst, and, after a brief deceitful rally, he died on the 27th of
September. Nelson, who was tenderly attached to him, followed him to
the grave with emotion so deep as to be noticeable to the bystanders.
"Thank God," he wrote that afternoon, "the dreadful scene is past. I
scarcely know how I got over it. I could not suffer much more and be
alive." "I own," he had written to St. Vincent immediately after the
repulse, "I shall never bring myself again to allow any attack to go
forward, where I am not personally concerned; my mind suffers much
more than if I had a leg shot off in this late business."
The Admiralty refusing any allowances, much of the expense of Parker's
illness and of his funeral fell upon Nelson, who assumed all his
debts. It was but one instance among many of a liberality in money
matters, which kept him constantly embarrassed. To the surgeon who had
attended the wounded, and to the captain of the "Medusa," a much
richer man than he was, but who had shown him kindness, he gave
handsome remembrances of the favors which he was pleased to consider
done to himself personally. In a like spirit he wrote some months
afterwards, concerning a proposed monument to Captain Ralph Willett
Miller, who had fought under his flag. "I much doubt if all the
admirals and captains will subscribe to poor dear Miller's monument;
but I have told Davison, that whatever is wanted to make up the sum, I
shall pay. I thought of Lord St. Vincent and myself paying,£50 each;
some other admirals may give something, and I thought about £12 each
for the captains who had served with him in the actions off Cape St.
Vincent and the Nile. The spirit of liberality seems declining; but
when I forget an old and dear friend, may I cease to be your
affectionate Nelson and Bronté." Yet at this period he felt it
advisable to sell the diamonds from the presents given him by foreign
sovereigns. He was during these weeks particularly pressed, because in
treaty for a house which he bought at Merton in Surrey, and for which
he had difficulty in raising funds. In this his friend Davison helped
him by a generous and unlimited offer of a loan. "The Baltic
expedition," wrote Nelson in his letter of thanks, "cost me full
£2,000. Since I left London it has cost me, for Nelson cannot be like
others, near £1,000 in six weeks. If I am continued here, ruin to my
finances must be the consequence."
On the 1st of October the Preliminaries of Peace with France were
signed, and on the 9th news of their ratification reached Nelson on
board his ship. "Thank God! it is peace," he exclaimed. Yet, while
delighted beyond measure at the prospect of release from his present
duties, and in general for the repose he now expected, he was most
impatient at the exuberant demonstrations of the London populace, and
of some military and naval men. "Let the rejoicings be proper to our
several stations--the manufacturer, because he will have more markets
for his goods,--but seamen and soldiers ought to say, 'Well, as it is
peace, we lay down our arms; and are ready again to take them up, if
the French are insolent.' There is no person in the world rejoices
more in the peace than I do, but I would burst sooner than let a d--d
Frenchman know it. We have made peace with the French despotism, and
we will, I hope, adhere to it whilst the French continue in due
bounds; but whenever they overstep that, and usurp a power which would
degrade Europe, then I trust we shall join Europe in crushing her
ambition; then I would with pleasure go forth and risk my life for to
pull down the overgrown detestable power of France." When the mob in
London dragged the carriage of the French ambassador, his wrath quite
boiled over. "Can you cure madness?" he wrote to his physician; "for I
am mad to read that our d--d scoundrels dragged a Frenchman's
carriage. I am ashamed for our Country." "I hope never more to be
dragged by such a degenerate set of people," he tells Lady Hamilton.
"Would our ancestors have done it? So, the villains would have drawn
Buonaparte if he had been able to get to London to cut off the King's
head, and yet all our Royal Family will employ Frenchmen. Thanks to
the navy, they could not." Nelson's soul was disturbed without cause.
Under the ephemeral effervescence of a crowd lay a purpose as set as
his own, and of which his present emotions were a dim and unconscious
prophecy.
On the 15th of October he received official notification for the
cessation of hostilities with the French Republic, the precise date at
which they were to be considered formally at an end having been fixed
at the 22d of the month. The Admiralty declined to allow him to leave
his station until that day arrived. Then he had their permission to
take leave of absence, but not to haul down his flag. "I heartily hope
a little rest will soon set you up," wrote St. Vincent, "but until the
definitive treaty is signed, your Lordship must continue in pay,
although we may not have occasion to require your personal services at
the head of the squadron under your orders." In accordance with this
decision, Nelson's flag continued to fly as Commander-in-Chief of a
Squadron of ships "on a particular service," throughout the anxious
period of doubt and suspicion which preceded the signing of the treaty
of Amiens, on the 25th of March, 1802. It was not till the 10th of the
following April that he received the formal orders, to strike his flag
and come on shore.
On the 22d of October, 1801, he left the flagship and set off for his
new home in Surrey.
FOOTNOTES:
[37] These suggestive italics are in the letter as printed by Clarke and
M'Arthur, and reproduced by Nicolas.
[38] Hollesley Bay.