Nelson’s First Great Fight: The Battle of Cape St Vincent
(1797)
“_To have had any share in it is honour enough for one man’s life,
but to have been foremost on such a day could fall to your share
alone_”
SIR GILBERT ELLIOT.
Sir John Jervis had concentrated his fleet in Gibraltar Bay. Nelson
was making his way from thence to Elba in the _Minerve_, accompanied
by the _Blanche_, both 32-gun frigates. All went well until late in
the evening of the 19th December 1796, when they fell in with two
Spanish frigates named the _Santa Sabina_ (40) and the _Ceres_ (40)
off Cartagena. The Commodore at once instructed Captain Cockburn to
bring the _Minerve_ to close action with the former. The struggle which
ensued lasted for nearly three hours. The lengthy resistance of the
enemy is proof that there were still gallant officers in the naval
service of what was once the mightiest Sea Power in the world, now long
since fallen from her high estate. Captain Don Jacobo Stuart fought his
ship with praiseworthy calm and daring. Not until 164 of the 286 men
who comprised the crew of the _Santa Sabina_ had been killed or wounded
did the Don strike his colours. The vessel had then lost both main and
fore-masts, and the deck must have resembled a shambles. The _Blanche_
had also behaved well, although the action was trifling compared with
the determined encounter between the other vessels. The approach of
three additional ships prevented the captain of the _Blanche_ from
following up his advantage and capturing the _Ceres_, which had hauled
down her colours and sustained considerable damage to her sails and
rigging.
Nelson’s prize was put in charge of Lieutenants Culverhouse and Hardy
and taken in tow by the _Minerve_. They had not proceeded far before a
third Spanish frigate came up and engaged the _Minerve_, necessitating
the casting-off of the _Santa Sabina_, thereby leaving the two young,
but able, junior officers to their own resources. The encounter lasted
a little over half-an-hour, when the frigate having had enough of
Nelson’s pommelling hauled off. The vessels from which Captain D’Arcy
Preston of the _Blanche_ had escaped were now approaching, their
commanders having been attracted by the sound of distant firing.
Dawn revealed them to Nelson as two sail-of-the-line and a frigate.
By hoisting English colours above the Spanish flag on the prize
the enemy’s Admiral was attracted to her, a ruse which enabled the
_Minerve_ and the _Blanche_ to escape, for it would have been foolish
for Nelson to run the risk of sacrificing them because of the prize
crew. Indeed, the situation was so perilous that Nelson afterwards
wrote to Sir Gilbert Elliot, “We very narrowly escaped visiting a
Spanish prison.” Neither before nor since have British Tars behaved in
finer fashion. They sailed the _Santa Sabina_ until she was practically
a hulk, when she was recaptured.
“The merits of every officer and man in the _Minerve_ and her Prize,”
Nelson reports to Jervis, “were eminently conspicuous through the
whole of this arduous day.” He likewise said the kindest things of his
antagonist: “My late prisoner, a descendant from the Duke of Berwick,
son of James II., was my brave opponent; for which I have returned him
his sword, and sent him in a Flag of truce to Spain ... he was reputed
the best Officer in Spain, and his men were worthy of such a Commander;
he was the only surviving Officer.” He reserved more picturesque
details for his brother.
“When I hailed the Don,” he relates, “and told him, ‘This is an English
Frigate,’ and demanded his surrender or I would fire into him, his
answer was noble, and such as became the illustrious family from which
he is descended--‘This is a Spanish Frigate, and you may begin as soon
as you please.’ I have no idea of a closer or sharper battle: the
force to a gun the same, and nearly the same number of men; we having
two hundred and fifty. I asked him several times to surrender during
the Action, but his answer was--‘No, Sir; not whilst I have the means
of fighting left.’ When only himself of all the Officers were left
alive, he hailed, and said he could fight no more, and begged I would
stop firing.” Culverhouse and Hardy, after having been conveyed to
Carthagena, were subsequently exchanged for the unlucky but brave Don,
and returned to the _Minerve_.
[Illustration: “I’ll not lose Hardy!”
H. C. Seppings Wright]
Nelson duly anchored at Porto Ferrajo, and met with a lack of
co-operation on the part of the military authority similar to some of
his previous experiences. Lieutenant-General de Burgh, in command of
the troops, declined to evacuate the town. Nelson, having no other
alternative, removed the naval stores, left a number of sloops and
gunboats for use in emergency, and sailed for Gibraltar, which he
reached on the 9th February 1797, having looked into the enemy’s ports
of Toulon and Cartagena on the way. Two days later the Commodore
again set out in his endeavour to join Jervis, and was chased by two
Spanish ships. It was then that a memorable incident occurred in the
lives of both Nelson and Hardy, names inseparably associated. A man
fell overboard, and Hardy and a crew in the jolly-boat hastened to the
rescue. The current was strong, the poor fellow sank, and the boat
rapidly drifted in the direction of one of the oncoming vessels, so
that Hardy stood a very good chance of again falling into the hands
of the enemy. “I’ll not lose Hardy; back the mizen topsail,” shouted
Nelson without a moment’s hesitation. This was done, and the
lieutenant and his sailors were rescued. The Spaniards were completely
put off their guard. Led to imagine by the peculiar manœuvre of the
_Minerve_ that other British ships had been sighted, they gave up the
chase. No further exciting incidents occurred as the doughty frigate
ploughed the blue waters of the Mediterranean, although the Spanish
fleet was passed at night. On the 13th Nelson joined Jervis, off Cape
St Vincent, and was able to assure him that a battle appeared imminent.
“Every heart warmed to see so brave and fortunate a warrior among us,”
says Lieutenant G. S. Parsons, then not quite thirteen years of age
and a first-class volunteer on board the _Barfleur_ (98). During the
succeeding hours of darkness the low and distant rumble of signal guns
proved the truth of the Commodore’s assertion. The enemy’s fleet of
twenty-seven sail-of-the-line and twelve 34-gun frigates was certainly
hastening in the direction of Jervis. It had sailed from Cadiz for a
very important purpose. After concentrating with the Toulon fleet the
allies were to attempt to raise the English blockade of Brest, thus
releasing the important armament there, gain command of the Channel,
and invade Ireland. We shall have occasion to notice that in later
years Napoleon conceived a similar idea. It is open to question whether
Admiral Don Josef de Cordova would have been quite so eager for the
fray had he known the full British strength. He believed it to be
nine sail-of-the-line, whereas fifteen battleships and seven smaller
vessels were awaiting his coming. When the signal-lieutenant of the
_Barfleur_ exclaimed of the oncoming leeward line of vessels, “They
loom like Beachy Head in a fog! By my soul, they are thumpers, for I
distinctly make out _four_ tier of ports in one of them, bearing an
admiral’s flag,” he expressed plain, honest fact. “Don Cordova, in
the _Santissima Trinidad_,” Jervis correctly surmised, “and I trust
in Providence that we shall reduce this mountain into a mole hill
before sunset.” The Spanish flag-ship was the largest vessel afloat,
and carried 130 guns. She must have towered above the insignificant
_Captain_ (74), to which Nelson had transferred his broad pennant,
much like an elephant over a Shetland pony. Nor was the _Santissima
Trinidad_ the only vessel built on what was then considered to be
colossal lines. No fewer than six of the Spanish three-deckers carried
112 guns each; two of them had 80 guns each, and seventeen were 74-gun
ships. England was represented by two sail-of-the-line of 100 guns
each, two of 98 each, ten of 74 each, and one of 64.
“The British had formed one of the most beautiful and close lines
ever beheld,” Parsons tells us. “The fog drew up like a curtain, and
disclosed the grandest sight I ever witnessed. The Spanish fleet,
close on our weather bow, were making the most awkward attempts to
form their line of battle, and they looked a complete forest huddled
together; their commander-in-chief, covered with signals, and running
free on his leeward line, using his utmost endeavours to get them into
order; but they seemed confusion worse confounded. I was certainly very
young, but felt so elated as to walk on my toes, by way of appearing
taller, as I bore oranges to the admiral and captain, selecting some
for myself, which I stored in a snug corner in the stern-galley, as a
_Corps de réserve_. The breeze was just sufficient to cause all the
sails to sleep, and we were close hauled on the starboard tack, with
royals set, heading up for the Spanish fleet. Our supporting ship, in
the well-formed line, happened to be the _Captain_, and Captain Dacres
hailed to say that he was desired by the vice-admiral to express his
pleasure at being supported by Sir Horatio Nelson.”[17]
Men famous in British naval annals were present at this memorable
contest, fought on St Valentine’s Day, 1797. Jervis was in the
_Victory_ (100), Troubridge in the _Culloden_ (74), Collingwood in the
_Excellent_ (74), and Saumarez in the _Orion_ (74). Twenty-four years
before Troubridge and Nelson had sailed together in the _Seahorse_;
Collingwood was the Commodore’s life-long friend, and Saumarez, whom
the great little man did not like, was to become second in command at
the battle of the Nile eighteen months later.
“England,” the Admiral averred, “was in need of a victory,” and he gave
her one. Jervis was indeed a doughty champion of his country’s rights
at sea. “The British Admiral made the signal to prepare for battle,”
says an eye-witness. “As he walked the quarter-deck the hostile numbers
were reported to him, as they appeared, by signal. ‘There are eight
sail-of-the-line, Sir John.’ ‘Very well, sir.’ ‘There are twenty-five
sail-of-the-line.’ ‘Very well, sir.’ ‘There are twenty-seven sail, Sir
John,’ and this was accompanied by some remark on the great disparity
of the forces. ‘Enough, sir--no more of that: the die is cast; and
if there were fifty sail-of-the-line, I would go through them.’” Sir
Benjamin Hallowell-Carew, then a supernumerary on the quarter-deck
of the _Victory_, disregarding the austerity of naval etiquette and
thinking only of the determined utterance of the grim old veteran, so
far forgot himself as to give the Admiral a hearty slap on the back.
The Spanish fleet was in two divisions of twenty-one and six
sail-of-the-line respectively, separated by a distance of some miles.
Three of the main squadron joined the latter a little later, while one
“sailed away.” Jervis’s fleet, in single column, separated the two
lines. By a skilful manœuvre he held in check the smaller division
and brought his ships to bear on the larger, the _Culloden_ being the
first vessel to attack, which elicited warm praise of Troubridge from
Jervis. The fight at once became general and was waged for some time
without decisive results. Then several of the leading Spanish ships
endeavoured to get round the rear of the British. Had they succeeded
in doing so it would have enabled them to join the detached leeward
division and escape to Cadiz. Nelson at once discerned the project,
and without hesitation placed the _Captain_ in the path of the oncoming
ships. He “dashed in among the Spanish van,” to quote Parsons, “totally
unsupported, leaving a break in the British line--conduct totally
unprecedented, and only to be justified by the most complete success
with which it was crowned....”
The _Captain_, the smallest 74 in the fleet, stood a good chance
of being annihilated by the oncoming squadron of Spanish ships,
which included the _Santissima Trinidad_, a gigantic four-decker.
Lieutenant-Colonel Drinkwater, who was an eye-witness, tells us that
for a considerable time Nelson “had to contend not only with her,
but with her seconds ahead and astern, of three decks each. While he
maintained this unequal combat, which was viewed with admiration, mixed
with anxiety, his friends were flying to his support: and the enemy’s
attention was soon directed to the _Culloden_, Captain Troubridge;
and, in a short time after, to the _Blenheim_, of 90 guns, Captain
Frederick; who, very opportunely, came to his assistance.
“The intrepid conduct of the Commodore staggered the Spanish admiral,
who already appeared to waver in pursuing his intention of joining the
ships cut off by the British fleet; when the _Culloden’s_ arrival,
and Captain Troubridge’s spirited support of the _Captain_, together
with the approach of the _Blenheim_, followed by Rear-Admiral Parker,
with the _Prince George_, _Orion_, _Irresistible_, and _Diadem_, not
far distant, determined the Spanish admiral to change his design
altogether, and to make the signal for the ships of his main body to
haul their wind, and make sail on the larboard tack.
“Advantage was now apparent, in favour of the British squadron, and
not a moment was lost in improving it. As the ships of Rear-Admiral
Parker’s division approached the enemy’s ships, in support of the
_Captain_, and her gallant seconds, the _Blenheim_ and _Culloden_,
the cannonade became more animated and impressive. The superiority
of the British fire over that of the enemy, and its effects on the
enemy’s hulls and sails, were so evident that there was no longer any
hesitation in pronouncing a glorious termination of the contest.
“The British squadron at this time was formed in two divisions, both
on the larboard tack[18]: Rear-Admiral Parker, with the _Blenheim_,
_Culloden_, _Prince George_, _Captain_, _Orion_, and _Irresistible_,
composed one division, which was engaged with the enemy’s rear; Sir
John Jervis, with the other division, consisting of the _Excellent_,
_Victory_, _Barfleur_, _Namur_, _Egmont_, _Goliath_, and _Britannia_,
was pressing forward in support of his advanced squadron, but had not
yet approached the real scene of action.
“While the British advanced squadron warmly pressed the enemy’s centre
and rear, the Admiral meditated, with his division, a co-operation
which must effectually compel some of them to surrender.
“In the confusion of their retreat, several of the enemy’s ships had
doubled on each other; and, in the rear, they were three or four
deep. It was, therefore, the British admiral’s design to reach the
weather-most of these ships; and, then, to bear up, and rake them all
in succession, with the seven ships composing his division. His object,
afterwards, was to pass on to the support of his van division; which,
from the length of time they had been engaged, he judged might be in
want of it. The casual position, however, of the rear ships of his van
division, prevented his executing this plan. The admiral, therefore,
ordered the _Excellent_, the leading ship of his own division, to
bear up; and, with the _Victory_, he himself passed to leeward of the
enemy’s rearmost and leewardmost ships; which, though almost silenced
in their fire, continued obstinately to resist the animated attack of
all their opponents.
“Captain Collingwood, in the _Excellent_, in obedience to the admiral’s
orders, passed between the two rearmost ships of the enemy’s line;
giving to the one most to windward, a 74, so effectual a broadside, in
addition to what had been done before, that her captain was induced to
submit. The _Excellent_ afterwards bore down on the ship to leeward,
a three-decker: but, observing the _Orion_ engaged with her, and the
_Victory_ approaching her, he threw into her only a few discharges of
musquetry, and passed on to the support of the _Captain_, at that time
warmly engaged with a three-decker, carrying a flag. His interference
here was opportune, as the continual and long fire of the _Captain_ had
almost expended the ammunition she had at hand, and the loss of her
fore-topmast, and other injuries she had received in her rigging, had
rendered her nearly ungovernable.
“The Spanish three-decker had lost her mizen-mast; and, before the
_Excellent_ arrived in her proper station to open on this ship, the
three-decker dropped astern aboard of, and became entangled with, a
Spanish two-decker, that was her second. Thus doubled on each other,
the _Excellent_ gave the two ships her fire; and then moved forwards to
assist the headmost ships in their attack on the Spanish admiral, and
the other ships of the enemy’s centre.
“Meanwhile, Sir John Jervis, disappointed in his plan of raking the
enemy’s rear ships, and having directed, as before observed, the
_Excellent_ to bear up, ordered the _Victory_ to be placed on the
lee-quarter of the rearmost ship of the enemy, a three-decker; and
having, by signal, ordered the _Irresistible_ and _Diadem_ to suspend
their firing, threw into the three-decker so powerful a discharge, that
her commander, seeing the _Barfleur_ ... ready to second the _Victory_,
thought proper to strike to the British Commander-in-chief. Two of
the enemy’s ships had now surrendered; and the _Lively_ frigate, and
_Diadem_, had orders to secure the prizes. The next that fell were the
two with which Commodore Nelson was engaged.
“While Captain Collingwood so nobly stepped in to his assistance, as
already mentioned, Captain R. W. Miller, the Commodore’s captain, was
enabled to replenish his lockers with shot, and prepare for a renewal
of the fight. No sooner, therefore, had the _Excellent_ passed on, than
the gallant Commodore renewed the battle.
“The three-decker with which he was before engaged having fallen
aboard her second, that ship, of 84 guns, became now the Commodore’s
opponent. To her, therefore, he directed a vigorous fire; nor was it
feebly returned, as the loss on board the _Captain_ evinced, nearly
twenty men being killed and wounded in a very few minutes. It was now
that the various damages already sustained by that ship, through the
long and arduous conflict which she had maintained, appearing to render
a continuance of the contest in the usual way precarious, or perhaps
impossible, that Commodore Nelson, unable to bear the idea of parting
with an enemy of which he had so thoroughly assured himself, instantly
resolved on a bold and decisive measure; and determined, whatever might
be the event, to attempt his opponent sword in hand. The boarders were
accordingly summoned, and orders given to lay his ship, the _Captain_,
on board the enemy.”
“At this time,” says Nelson, “the _Captain_ having lost her
fore-topmast, not a sail, shroud, or rope left, her wheel shot away,
and incapable of further service in the line, or in chase, I directed
Captain Miller to put the helm a-starboard, and calling for the
Boarders, ordered them to board. The Soldiers of the 69th Regiment,
with an alacrity which will ever do them credit, and Lieutenant Pierson
of the same Regiment, were amongst the foremost on this service.
The first man who jumped into the Enemy’s mizen-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
spritsail-yard, which hooked in the mizzen-rigging. A soldier of the
69th Regiment having broke the upper quarter-gallery window, jumped
in, followed by myself and 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 Pendant) fell, as retreating
to the quarter-deck, on the larboard side, near the wheel. Having
pushed on the quarter-deck, I found Captain Berry in possession of the
poop, and the Spanish ensign hauling down. I passed with my people and
Lieutenant Pierson on the larboard gangway to the forecastle, where
I met two or three Spanish Officers prisoners to my seamen, and they
delivered me their swords.
“At this moment, a fire of pistols or muskets opened from the Admiral’s
stern gallery of the _San Josef_, I directed the soldiers to fire into
her stern; and, calling to 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 below. I asked him, on his honour, if the Ship were
surrendered? he declared she was; on which I gave him my hand, and
desired him to call to 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 William Fearney,
one of my bargemen, who put them with the greatest _sangfroid_ under
his arm.”
Nelson afterwards went on board the _Irresistible_. It was then late
in the afternoon, and he did not think it advisable to take possession
of the _Santissima Trinidad_ because he was convinced that “a night
Action with a still very superior Fleet” must inevitably follow.
Jervis received the Commodore with great affection and was not sparing
with well-deserved praise. The hero of the day was no less generous in
acknowledging the services of Collingwood. He described his conduct
as “noble and gallant.” Nelson had no truer friend than the commander
of the _Excellent_, whose admiration for the Commodore’s genius knew
no bounds. “The highest rewards are due to you and _Culloden_:”
Collingwood replied, “you formed the plan of attack--we were only
accessories to the Dons’ ruin; for had they got on the other tack, they
would have been sooner joined, and the business would have been less
complete.”
While the interest of the fight centres about the _Captain_, each
ship contributed to the victory. In addition to Nelson’s vessel, the
_Colossus_ and _Culloden_ were badly battered but fortunately the loss
in men was remarkably small. Four prizes fell to the British fleet on
St Valentine’s Day, 1797.
To his wife, Nelson confesses that “the more I think of our late
action, the more I am astonished; it absolutely appears a dream....
The Spanish war will give us a cottage and a piece of ground, which
is all I want. I shall come one day or other laughing back, when we
will retire from the busy scenes of life: I do not, however, mean to
be a hermit; the dons will give us a little money.” This must not be
taken too seriously, for within forty-eight hours of the battle he
had confided to Sir Gilbert Elliot that “to take hereditary Honours
without a fortune to support the Dignity, is to lower that Honour it
would be my pride to support in proper splendour.” He did not wish a
“baronetage,” but on the other hand, “There are Honours, which die
with the possessor, and I should be proud to accept, if my efforts are
thought worthy of the favour of my King.” George III. created him a
Knight of the Bath; Jervis became Earl of St Vincent. Six days after
the battle Nelson was promoted to the rank of Rear-Admiral of the Blue,
not as a reward for his meritorious conduct but as his due according to
seniority.
A beautiful gold casket containing the much-coveted Freedom of the
City and a sword of honour was given to Sir Horatio, as we must now
call him, by the Corporation of London, and Norwich, where some of
his school days were spent, likewise conferred its Freedom upon him.
Nelson on his part presented the county town of Norfolk with the sword
of the Spanish Rear-Admiral who had died of his wounds on board the
_San Josef_. Other cities extended “the right hand of friendship” to
the hero, including Bath and Bristol. Nelson’s father was overcome when
he heard of his son’s brilliant success: “The height of glory to which
your professional judgment, united with a proper degree of bravery,
guarded by Providence, has raised you, few sons, my dear child, attain
to, and fewer fathers live to see. Tears of joy have involuntarily
trickled down my furrowed cheek. Who could stand the force of such
general congratulation? The name and services of Nelson have sounded
throughout the City of Bath, from the common ballad-singer to the
public theatre. Joy sparkles in every eye, and desponding Britain draws
back her sable veil, and smiles.”
Although he had clearly disobeyed Jervis’s order for the ships to
attack in succession, the Commodore’s daring action had rendered the
battle decisive. Sir Robert Calder, the Captain of the Fleet, is said
to have protested against Nelson’s conduct, but the Admiral’s reply,
“If you ever commit such a breach of orders I will forgive you,”
was entirely worthy of the stern old disciplinarian. Jervis was not
one of those officers who bestow praise on every possible occasion,
both in and out of season. He was just, and therefore recognised the
extremely valuable service which Nelson had rendered to him. We shall
have occasion to see how Calder himself behaved at a certain critical
period, when a stroke of genius such as had been displayed at St
Vincent would have robbed Nelson of the glory of Trafalgar.[19]