Nelson joined the _Victory_ at Portsmouth on the morning of the 14th
September, and met with a great public ovation. He tells Captain
Hardy, as he was being rowed to the _Victory_, that he had "their
huzzas when he landed" (after his prolonged period in commission),
"but now," he proudly remarked, "I have their hearts." His send-off
was magnificent. The contagious flow of tears, the shouting of
blessings, and the fervent petitions that the God of battles should
give him the victory over the enemies of human suffering and liberty
were symptoms of admiration and gratitude which went hot into his
blood as he sat in his barge, the object of reverence. And with a calm
air of conscious power he acknowledged the honour that was showered
upon him by baring his head and bowing gracefully his thanks. It was
manifestly his day of paradise, and with the plaudits still ringing in
his ears the _Victory's_ anchor was weighed on the following day, and
he sailed from St. Helen's Roads to the great conflict and victory for
which he panted, and to the doom that awaited him.
He experienced foul winds until he passed Cape Finisterre, and on the
28th September he joined the fleet of twenty-nine of the line. The
29th September was the anniversary of his forty-seventh year. He says:
"The reception I met with on joining the fleet caused the sweetest
sensation of my life. The officers who came on board to welcome my
return forgot my rank as commander-in-chief in the enthusiasm with
which they greeted me. As soon as these emotions were past, I laid
before them the plan I had previously arranged for attacking the
enemy; and it was not only my pleasure to find it generally approved,
but clearly perceived and understood." In a further communication he
explains to them the "Nelson touch," and all agree that it must
succeed, and that he is surrounded with friends. Then he adds: "Some
may be Judas's, but the majority are certainly pleased at the prospect
of my commanding them."
These are joyous days for him, which are marked by the absence of any
recorded misgivings. His mind is full of making preparations in every
detail to cope with the advent of Villeneuve from Cadiz and for the
plan of attack, of which a long memorandum was circulated to the
fleet. He had planned the form of attack at Trafalgar during his stay
at home, and some time before leaving Merton he confided it to Lord
Sidmouth. He told him "that Rodney broke the enemy's line in one
place, and that _he_ would break it in two." One of the Nelson
"touches" was to "close with a Frenchman, and to out-manoeuvre a
Russian," and this method of terrific onslaught was to be one of the
devices that he had in store for the French at Trafalgar, and which
ended fatally for himself. But it gave the enemy a staggering blow,
from which they never recovered so long as the action lasted. In the
General Orders he says: "Captains are to look to their particular line
as a rallying point, but in case signals cannot be seen or clearly
understood, _no captain can do wrong if he places his ship alongside
that of an enemy_."
The feeling against Sir Robert Calder for not having beaten or forced
another battle on the allied fleets in July did not abate. The public
were out for impeachment, and the Government did nothing to discourage
it; and when Nelson was on the point of leaving England the First Lord
instructed him to convey to Calder the Government's condemnation of
his evident negligence or incapacity. They gave him permission to ask
for the inquiry, but should he not do so, it would be ordered. Nelson
wrote to Barham that he had delivered the message to Sir Robert, and
that it would doubtless give his Lordship pleasure to learn that an
inquiry was just what the Vice-Admiral was anxious to have, and that
he had already sent a letter by the _Nautilus_ to say so, but that he
(Nelson) had detained it. Nelson, in his goodness of heart, urged Sir
Robert to remain until after the action, the result of which would
inevitably change the feeling of the Government and the public in his
favour, and he could then, without any fear, demand an inquiry. Sir
Robert was so crushed with the charge hanging over him, that he
insisted on being allowed to proceed to England at once, and Nelson,
to ease the humiliation and suffering he was passing through, sent him
off in his ninety-gun ship, instead of a frigate. The inquiry was held
in due course, and judgment given against him. The finding is, in our
opinion, based more on prejudice than on any fault he committed, and
as to "committing an error of judgment," it is always difficult to
know what is an error of judgment in circumstances such as he was
confronted with. In any case, it is evident that the Government were
terrified of the effect that public opinion would have on themselves
if they failed to take steps to appease it. We think the Government
would have been serving their country better by keeping this
unfortunate officer in active service when its fleet was on the verge
of a life-or-death struggle for naval supremacy than by dispensing
with his services, which they had thought fit to retain from July to
October. Nelson's attitude was the more patriotic and noble, and under
such circumstances the verdict, however mild, was bound to be given
against the man whose heart they had broken because they were afraid
of public opinion. Nelson was a better judge than they. Discreet
reprimand, combined with a few kindly words of encouragement, was the
proper course at such a time, when every man and ship was so
essential.
On a previous occasion, when a "seventy-four" had stranded, the
officer whose skill and efforts had refloated her was told by Nelson
that he had spoken favourably of him to the Admiralty. The officer
showed in suitable terms his gratitude, but added that he did not
regard what he had done as meriting any notice or praise. The Admiral
pointed out that a battle might easily be lost by the absence of a
line-of-battle ship. When Nelson conveyed the ill-considered and
stupid instructions of the Government to Sir Robert Calder to return
home to be court-martialled, and the latter replied that his letter
"to do so cut him to the soul and that his heart was broken," Nelson
was so overcome with sympathy for Calder that he sacrificed his own
opinions already expressed, and also took the risk of bringing upon
himself the displeasure of the Comptroller of the Navy by giving the
unfortunate man permission to proceed home in a vessel that would have
been so valuable an asset to his fleet. This worthy act, had he lived
and the battle of Trafalgar been drawn or lost, might have laid him
open to impeachment. Nelson's fine courage and sense of proportion
when he thought an injustice or undue severity was being imposed was
never allowed to be trifled with by any official, no matter how high
or subordinate his position might be, and his contempt for men whom he
knew were miserable cocksparrow amateurs was openly avowed.
Whatever the consequences, he would have sooner lost a victory than
have gained one by lending himself to an act that was to injure or
break his brother in arms. Calder left the fleet a few days before the
action, and when it began Nelson remarked to Hardy, "What would poor
Sir Robert Calder give to be with us now!" Even on the eve of a great
encounter the stress of preparation did not dim his sympathy for the
afflicted man, who, on more than one occasion, had allowed envy to
rule his conduct towards him. After the battle of St. Vincent, for
instance, Calder, in conversation with Jervis, criticized Nelson's
action in departing from the plan of attack laid down by the Admiral.
Jervis admitted it to be a breach, and added "if ever Calder did the
same thing under similar circumstances, he would forgive him."
Nelson knew Calder was envious of his growing fame, but this did not
prevent him from acting as though he had always been a loyal friend.
On the morning of the 19th October, 1805, the signal was passed from
ship to ship acting as lookouts to the main fleet that the combined
fleet were putting to sea, and it was soon discovered that their force
consisted of eighteen French line-of-battle ships, seven large
frigates, and two brigs. The Spanish numbered fifteen sail of the
line. The British had twenty-seven sail of the line and four frigates,
so that Nelson was outnumbered by five of the line, three frigates,
and two brigs. The whole of the allied fleet did not get clear of the
port until the 20th. The commander-in-chief was Villeneuve, and his
obvious intention was to get the Straits open and, by a cunning
evasion of the British fleet, make a dash through. His elusive tactics
had hitherto been skilfully performed, but the British Admiral, always
on the alert, anticipated that an effort would again be made to cheat
him of the yearning hope of his heart, and had mentally arranged how
every contingency should be coped with to prevent escape and to get to
grips with the enemy. "I will give them such a shaking as they never
before experienced," and at least he was prepared to lay down his life
in the attempt.
It is pretty certain that, after all his ships had got into the open
sea, Villeneuve's intention was to see how the land lay as to the
British strength, and his manoeuvring indicated that instructions had
been given to hoodwink the British and slip through the Straits of
Gibraltar; but seeing that the entrance was cut off for the moment, he
headed westward, possibly to mislead, but always with the intention of
getting into the Mediterranean. When this information was signalled by
Blackwood, instructions were sent back to him that the Admiral relied
on the enemy being kept in sight. Here is a letter to Lady Hamilton,
dated the 19th October, 1805:--