“The soldiers of the 69th, with an alacrity which will ever do them
credit, and Lieutenant Pearson, of that regiment, were almost the
foremost on this service. The first man who jumped into the enemy’s
mizzen-chains was Captain Berry, late my first lieutenant; (Captain
Miller was in the very act of going, also, but I directed him to
remain;) he was supported from our sprit-sail yard, which hooked in
their mizzen-rigging.
“A soldier of the 69th Regiment, having broke the upper quarter gallery
window, I jumped in myself, and was followed by others, as fast as
possible. I found the cabin doors fastened; and some Spanish officers
fired their pistols; but, having broke open the doors, the soldiers
fired, and the Spanish Brigadier (Commodore with a distinguishing
pennant) fell, as he was retreating to the quarter-deck. I pushed
immediately onward for the quarter-deck, where I found Captain Berry in
possession of the poop, and the Spanish ensign hauling down. I passed,
with my people and Lieutenant Pearson, on the larboard gangway, to
the forecastle, when I met three or four Spanish officers, prisoners
to my seamen; they delivered me their swords. A fire of pistols or
muskets opening from the stern-gallery of the San Josef, I directed the
soldiers to fire into her stern: and calling Captain Miller, ordered
him to send more men into the San Nicolas; and directed my people to
board the first-rate, which was done in an instant, Captain Berry
assisting me into the main-chains.
“At this moment a Spanish officer looked over the quarter-deck rail and
said they surrendered. From this most welcome intelligence it was not
long before I was on the quarter-deck, when the Spanish Captain, with
a bow, presented me his sword, and said the Admiral was dying of his
wounds.
“I asked him, on his honor, if the ship was surrendered. He declared
she was; on which I gave him my hand, and desired him to call on his
officers and ship’s company, and tell them of it; which he did, and,
on the quarter-deck of a Spanish first-rate, extravagant as the story
may seem, did I receive the swords of vanquished Spaniards; which, as I
received, I gave to Wm. Fearney, one of my bargemen, who put them, with
the greatest _sang-froid_, under his arm. I was surrounded by Captain
Berry, Lieutenant Pearson, of the 69th Regiment, John Sykes, John
Thompson, Francis Cooke, all old Agamemnons, and several other brave
men, seamen and soldiers. Thus fell these ships.”
The foregoing is part of a report signed by “Horatio Nelson,” “Ralph
Willett Miller,” and “T. Berry.”
The loss of the Captain in boarding the San Nicolas did not exceed
seven killed and ten wounded. That of the San Nicolas was about
twenty. But the taking of the first-rate San Josef did not cost the
Captain a man, nor does it appear that the prize herself lost above
one or two men, in the trifling exchange of small-arm shot which had
preceded her surrender.
The previous loss of the San Josef had, however, been severe,
principally from the fire of the St. George.
During this brilliant service of the Captain she had been so disabled
that Commodore Nelson returned to the Minerve, and at five o’clock the
same day shifted his broad pennant to the Irresistible.
But other ships besides those already mentioned did good work.
The Victory, next astern of the Excellent, came up in time to throw a
most destructive fire into the Salvador del Mundo, whose colors had
been once lowered but were then again flying. The Barfleur, close
astern of the Victory, seconded the blow. Having already lost her
fore and main-top-masts, and being seriously shattered in the hull;
observing, also, that her two antagonists were preparing to round upon
her bow, and that a third three-decker, the Namur, was not far off, to
windward, the Salvador del Mundo hauled down her colors.
The Diadem and Irresistible had previously been ordered to suspend
their fire at the Salvador del Mundo, until the Victory and her
second passed clear, and they were now directed, by signal, to take
possession of the Spanish ship. Soon after this the Excellent got close
under the lee of the Santa Trinidada, which vessel she engaged for
nearly an hour, assisted by the Orion, Irresistible, and particularly
the Blenheim. At last the Spanish four-decker, having her fore and
mizzen-masts shot away, and having suffered immense damage in hull,
rigging and sails, hauled down her colors, after a splendid resistance
to odds.
[Illustration: BATTLE OF CAPE ST. VINCENT, 1797.]
Just then two of the Spanish van ships, having wore, were standing to
the support of the Santa Trinidada. Two fresh ships were coming down
from the southwest; and the lee Spanish division, of nine sail, well
formed, and including among them the Conde de Regla, and the Principe
d’Asturias, three-deckers, were approaching from the southeast. All
these ships, closing round their sorely harassed comrade, saved him
from further molestation.
By five o’clock the victory was won. At this time all firing ceased,
and at that season of the year night was at hand. The British Admiral
made the signal for his fleet to bring to, on the starboard tack. This
he did, chiefly to cover the prizes and his own disabled ships from
the nine Spanish ships of the lee division, which, having made a good
stretch to windward, on the starboard tack, were now rapidly coming up
on the opposite one.
The determined front of the British changed their purpose, and after
firing a few ineffectual broadsides, they stood on to the assistance of
their chief.
Both fleets lay to during the night, to repair damages, and day-break
discovered them on opposite tacks, each in line-of-battle ahead.
The Spanish had the weather gage, and still possessed eighteen or
twenty effective sail-of-the-line, but they made no attempt to renew
the action. Probably some of their ships were not in condition to
fight. The great Santa Trinidada was nearly out of sight to leeward,
in tow of a frigate. As it was necessary to keep the British fleet
together, Sir John Jervis sent no vessels in chase of her.
The whole Spanish line was standing to the northward, while the
British fleet, which--including the Colossus and Culloden, neither of
which was fit to take a place in the line--could muster but fourteen
ships-of-the-line, then took their four prizes and the Captain in tow,
and very slowly made their way southward.
The damage sustained from the contest by the British ships was not so
great as might have been expected, from the severity of the contest.
The only ship of theirs dismasted was the Captain, which ship also
suffered much in the hull.
The Colossus and Culloden were both very much cut up, and the latter
had suffered especially in the hull, and was very leaky. She had only
one carronade dismounted, however, and two first and two second deck
guns.
The loss of life among the British was comparatively small. Except in
the cases of the Colossus and Egmont, those ships which suffered most
in hull and rigging had most killed and wounded. The total for the
fleet was 73 killed and 227 wounded. Of course, these were only the
badly wounded; for it was not the custom, in those days, to report the
slightly wounded. It is, therefore, fair to consider the total as about
400; an amazingly small number, considering the nature of the action.
According to the Spanish accounts, ten of their ships, besides those
crippled, suffered materially, but not more than half of them showed
any signs of being at all crippled. The Santa Trinidada, Soberano,
Principe d’Asturias and Conde de Regla were very much damaged.
The damages of the prizes are better known. All four ships had lost
masts, and all were so hulled as to be very leaky. The San Nicolas was
badly on fire, but her captors extinguished it. Their loss in killed
and wounded amounted to about 1000.
The detached and confused state of the Spanish fleet at the beginning
of the battle, and the consequent partial and irregular manner in
which their ships came into action, would render any statement of
comparative force, by comparing the totals on each side, very unfair.
It would be correct to say that the British line consisted of fifteen
ships-of-the-line, and the Spanish line (if it could be called so) of
twenty-five, and afterwards of twenty-seven, ships-of-the-line.
The Santissima Trinidada was a monster in size. She was built in
Havana, in 1769, as a 112-gun ship, except that she had greater beam
than was usual with that class. Some time about 1796 her quarter-deck
and forecastle were formed into a whole deck, barricades built
along her gangways, with ports in them, and she was made into a
flush four-decker, but was not really much superior in force to the
three-decked 112s.
The most striking feature in this victory is the boldness of the
attack. Another commander might have paused before running into the
midst of twenty-five sail with fifteen. If he had paused to weigh the
chances, the separated ships would have closed, and the Spanish line
then have been too compact to be attacked with hopes of success.
Sir John Jervis, relying upon the character of his force, and viewing
with a general’s eye the loose and disordered state of his enemy’s
line, resolved to profit by it, attacked promptly, and conquered. It
cannot be said that he broke the Spanish line, for there was no line to
be broken. He simply chose the proper moment for advance, had a leader
who never flinched or fell back, and he had all about him those who
were emulous to follow so bright an example.
On the other hand, the bold front he put on was calculated to sink
the hearts of those among the Spanish fleet who had little experience
of naval warfare. The Spanish fleet was not only in confusion at the
outset, but continued to be so; and some of their ships undoubtedly
fired into their comrades, while they were so huddled together that if
a shot missed one it was sure to strike another of them.
Then the British were better sailors, and repaired damages more
quickly; and to many of them the battle was more like a rattling game
than a grim matter of life and death and national renown.
It is reported that the Captain actually expended all her shot in this
action, and when grape was needed for her 32-lb carronades, used 7-lb
shot as a substitute.
This at a short distance must have caused great execution.
When the Spanish Admiral at last formed his scattered divisions into
line, he found the British in equal, if not better, alignment; and each
side then drew off, the one to lament, the other to exult, over the
events of the day.
The Spanish were never accused of a lack of courage, either by sea or
on land, and their discomfiture appears to have been caused principally
by the worthlessness of the crews which manned their ships. These
were composed of pressed landsmen, and soldiers of new levies, with a
very few seamen in each ship. It has been reported that these “poor
panic-stricken wretches,” when called upon to go aloft, to repair
the damaged rigging, fell upon their knees, and cried out that they
preferred being sacrificed on the spot to performing a duty where death
seemed inevitable from more than one cause. The numerical superiority
of their guns seemed little in their favor, for some of the San Josef’s
were found with their tompions in, on the side which had been engaged,
after the battle was over. Indeed, the numbers on board some of the
Spanish ships seem to have been rather a detriment to them.
A rather prejudiced writer says that if eight of their twenty-five
ships had been left at Carthagena, and had the five or six hundred
seamen they probably contained been substituted for twice that number
of raw hands, taken from the remaining seventeen ships, the latter
would probably have made a better stand; and the victory, if achieved
at all, have been at the expense of a much greater number of lives in
the British fleet. Whatever the fault of the crews, the officers fought
well. “Upon the whole, the victory off Cape St. Vincent, although from
its consequences pre-eminently great, from its results, dispassionately
considered, cannot be pronounced in an equal degree glorious.”
At about 3 P.M. of the 16th the British fleet and the prizes anchored
in Lagos Bay. Here the Spanish prisoners, numbering about 3000 men,
were landed; and, a receipt being given by the proper authority, were
allowed to remain.
On the 23d, after riding out a gale of wind with much difficulty, it
blowing dead on shore, Sir John Jervis sailed, and in five days the
whole were in safety in Lisbon. It was remarked that the prizes, under
jury-masts, beat all the English ships in working into the Tagus.
Great congratulations and celebrations took place at Lisbon, for the
Portuguese had every reason to rejoice at this victory, while in
England the news was met with immense enthusiasm. Sir John Jervis
was created a peer of Great Britain, by the title of Baron Jervis of
Meaford, and Earl of St. Vincent; with a pension of £3000 per annum.
Vice-Admiral Thompson and Admiral Parker were created Baronets, and
Vice-Admiral the Hon. William Waldegrave was appointed to a lucrative
post abroad.
Commodore Nelson, who had so often proved in his own person that the
danger of a bold enterprise required only to be met to be overcome, was
not mentioned in Sir John Jervis’ despatches, but received the insignia
of the Bath, and the freedom of the City of London.
Thanks of Parliament were voted to the fleet, and gold medals were
given to all the flag-officers and captains, as on similar occasions.
The four Spanish prizes were commissioned, and retained in service on
the Lisbon station.
The gale which had assailed the British fleet in Lagos Bay caught the
remainder of Admiral Cordova’s fleet at sea. It dispersed his ships,
and prevented them from reaching Cadiz until March. Among them was the
huge Santissima Trinidada, which, being so much injured by shot, was
least able to stand bad weather.
On the morning of the 28th of February, as she was striving to regain
the coast, the English frigate Terpsichore appeared in sight, to the
westward. Her captain knew of the battle, and divined, at once, that
the four-decker must be the Sta. Trinidada. He instantly cleared for
action, and bore down upon her, and began engaging, so manœuvring that
he kept clear of her broadside. The great ship had, therefore, only
her chasers with which to chastise the temerity of her pigmy foe. The
frigate kept her company until March 2d, doing her considerable damage,
and receiving some in return.
On that date twelve sail of Spanish men-of-war appeared, and the
Terpsichore hauled up for the Mediterranean.
Several ships from England joined the fleet, and the Admiral cruised
off Cadiz, with twenty-one sail-of-the-line, blockading twenty-six
Spanish ships, and the latter did not again appear at sea that year.
Admiral Cordova, and his two divisional flag-officers, Montlez and
Merino, together with eleven captains, were brought before a council of
war, to answer for their conduct in the battle. Nothing appears to have
come of it, for the personal gallantry of the officers was beyond all
dispute.
One fact is certain, that a Spanish three-decker, bearing a
Vice-Admiral’s flag, did her best to cut through the line, between the
Victory and Egmont.
In cases of this kind the officers are too frequently made the
scapegoats of a blundering Administration.