I
The tradition created by Drake and Hawkins was carried on by Nelson
and Collingwood in a different age and under different conditions, and
the same heroic spirit animated them all. Nelson must certainly have
been familiar with the enthralling tales of these men and of their
gallant colleagues, but without all the essential qualities born in
him he could not have been the victor of Trafalgar. Men have to do
something distinctive, that sets the human brain on fire, before they
are really recognized as being great; then all others are put in the
shade, no matter how necessary their great gifts may be to fill up the
gaps in the man of initiative and of action. Drake could not have done
what he did had he not had the aid of Frobisher, and Jervis would not
have become Earl St. Vincent had he not been supported by Nelson at
the battle of that name; and we should never have seen the imposing
monument erected in Trafalgar Square had Nelson been without his
Collingwood. Victorious and valiant performances do not come by
chance, and so it comes to pass in the natural course of human law
that if our Jervises, Nelsons, and Collingwoods, who are the
prototypes of our present-day heroes, had not lived, we should not
have had our Fishers, Jellicoes, and Beattys.
Nelson was always an attractive personality and by no means the type
of man to allow himself to be forgotten. He believed he was a
personage with a mission on earth, and never an opportunity was given
him that did not confirm this belief in himself.
Horatio Nelson was the son of the Rev. Edmund Nelson, and was born at
Burnham Thorpe on the 29th September, 1758. His mother died in 1767,
and left eight children. Her brother, Captain Maurice Suckling, was
appointed to the _Raisonable_ three years after her death, and agreed,
at the request of Horatio himself and the instigation of his father,
after some doubtful comments as to the boy's physical suitableness for
the rough life of a sailor, to take him; so on the 1st January, 1771,
he became a midshipman on the _Raisonable._ On the 22nd May he either
shipped of his own accord or was put as cabin-boy on a merchant vessel
which went to the West Indies, and ended his career in the merchant
service at the end of an eventful voyage. In July 1772 he became
midshipman on board the _Triumph_. This was the real starting-point of
his naval career and of the development of those great gifts that made
him the renowned Admiral of the world. Twenty-two years after joining
his uncle's ship he was made captain of the _Agamemnon_. At the siege
of Calvi in 1794 he was wounded in the right eye and lost the sight
of it. Three years afterwards he lost his right arm while commanding
an attack on Santa Cruz, and although he had put so many sensational
events into his life up to that time, it was not until the battle of
St. Vincent that he began to attract attention. He had been promoted
Rear-Admiral before the news of the battle was known, and when the
news reached England the public enthusiasm was irrepressible. Jervis
was made an Earl, with £3,000 a year pension, and the King requested
that he should take his title from the name of the battle. Nelson
refused a baronetcy, and was made, at his own request, a Knight of the
Bath, receiving the thanks of the City of London and a sword. All
those who were in prominent positions or came to the front in this
conflict received something. It was not by a freak of chance that the
authorities began to see in Nelson the elements of an extraordinary
man. Nor was it mere chance that they so far neglected him that he was
obliged to force himself upon the Admiralty in order to get them to
employ him. The nation was in need of a great spirit, and Providence
had been preparing one for many years before the ruling authorities
discovered that Nelson was their man of the future.
For several months he was tearing about the seas in search of the
French fleet. He popped into Naples on the 17th June, 1798, ostensibly
to know if anything had been heard of it, and no doubt he took the
opportunity of having a word with Sir William and Lady Hamilton, who
were to come so romantically into his life. He found the French fleet
at anchor in Aboukir Bay and sailed upon it with such amazing audacity
that the heart was knocked out of them at the very outset. Neither the
French Admiral nor anybody else would have expected the British fleet
to run their ships between them and the shore at the risk of
grounding. The _Culloden_ _did_ ground. The French had 11 out of 13
ships put out of action, but the British fleet suffered severely also,
and the loss of men was serious.[1] Out of a total of 7,401 men, 218
were killed and 678 wounded. Nelson himself was badly wounded on the
forehead, and as the skin fell down on his good eye and the blood
streamed into it, he was both dazed and blinded. He shouted to Captain
Berry as he was staggering to a fall, "I am killed; remember me to my
wife." But there was a lot more work for him to do before the fatal
day. He was carried below, believing the injury would prove fatal, in
spite of the assurances to the contrary of the surgeon who was in
attendance.
Although Nelson's courage can never be doubted, there is something
very curious in his constant, eccentric foreboding of death and the
way in which he scattered his messages about to one and another. This
habit increased amazingly after his conflict with the French at the
Nile. He seems to have had intermittent attacks of hypochondria. The
wound incident at Aboukir must have given great amusement as well as
anxiety to those about him. Unquestionably the wound had the
appearance at first of being mortal, but the surgeon soon gave a
reassuring opinion, and after binding up the ugly cut he requested his
patient to remain below. But Nelson, as soon as he knew he was not
going to die, became bored with the inactivity and insisted on writing
a dispatch to the Admiralty. His secretary was too excited to carry
out his wishes, so he tackled it himself. But his suffering being
great and his mind in a condition of whirling confusion, he did not
get far beyond the beginning, which intimated that "Almighty God had
blessed His Majesty's arms." The battle raged on. The _Orient_ was set
on fire and her destruction assured. When Nelson was informed of the
terrible catastrophe to the great French line-of-battle ship, he
demanded to be assisted to the deck, whereupon he gave instructions
that his only boat not destroyed was to be sent with the _Vanguard's_
first lieutenant to render assistance to the crew. He remained on deck
until the _Orient_ blew up, and was then urged to go to bed.
But sleep under the circumstances and in view of his own condition
would not come. All night long he was sending messages directing the
plan of battle the news of which was to enthral the civilized world.
Nelson himself was not satisfied. "Not one of the French vessels would
have escaped," he said, "if it had pleased God that he had not been
wounded." This was rather a slur on those who had given their best
blood and really won the battle. Notwithstanding the apparent egotism
of this outburst, there are sound reasons for believing that the
Admiral's inspiring influence was much discounted by his not being
able to remain on deck. The sight of his guiding, magnetic figure had
an amazing effect on his men, but I think it must be admitted that
Nelson's head was not in a condition at that time to be entirely
relied upon, and those in charge of the different ships put the
finishing touches to the victory that was won by the force of his
courage and commanding genius in the initial stages of the struggle.