From Triumph to Failure: The Attempt on Santa Cruz
(1797)
“_I have had flattery enough to make me vain, and success enough to
make me confident._”
NELSON.
All hopes on the part of Britain’s enemies for the invasion of the
British Isles were quashed for a time by the victory off Cape St
Vincent. Although the distressed Spanish fleet reached Cadiz safely,
minus four sail-of-the-line which the British had captured, there was
no likelihood at the moment of the ships showing their “noses” out of
port, many of the aforesaid noses being much out of joint. For several
weeks Nelson was engaged in a fruitless search for a treasure-ship,
convoyed by three sail-of-the-line, supposed to be making for Spain;
but in April 1797 he was directed by the Admiral to blockade Cadiz,
a task not altogether devoid of incident if for no other reason than
that no neutral vessel was permitted to enter or leave the port without
his permission. He was particularly concerned as to the welfare of the
garrison at Elba. The Commander-in-Chief believed that the soldiers
were on their way to Gibraltar; Nelson was of opinion that “If the
French get out two sail-of-the-line, which I am confident they may do,
our Troops are lost, and what a triumph would that be to them!” At his
own suggestion he was sent to Porto Ferrajo to make enquiries about
the luckless little army. The convoy had started, and he met it off
the south of Corsica. He learned of Napoleon’s wonderful success in
the subjugation of Italy and the humbling of Austria, admitting that
“there seems no prospect of stopping these extraordinary people,” the
French. Shifting from the _Captain_, which required to be docked, he
hoisted his rear-admiral’s flag on the _Theseus_, and was given command
of the inshore squadron of the fleet blockading the great seaport, “in
sight of the whole Spanish Fleet. I am barely out of shot of a Spanish
Rear-Admiral.” The citizens not unnaturally dreaded a bombardment;
Nelson confessed, “I long to be at them.” At the same time he reverted
to the old idea of a cottage in Norfolk. “The imperious call of honour
to serve my Country,” and a not ignoble desire to add to his prize
money in order to give his wife “those little luxuries which you so
highly merit,” did not, however, permit him to give more than a passing
thought to retirement.
On the night of the 3rd July 1797 all the barges and launches of
the British blockading fleet, carrying carronades, ammunition and
pikes, were placed at Nelson’s disposal by the Earl of St Vincent for
the bombardment of Cadiz. A spirited action took place between the
British and Spanish sailors, the latter using mortar gunboats and
armed launches. The Spanish met with a repulse and three prizes were
taken. Referring to the blockade in his Autobiography, Nelson says:
“It was during this period that perhaps my personal courage was more
conspicuous than at any other part of my life,” the remark obviously
referring to the following incident. The barge of the Commander of the
enemy’s gunboats came up alongside Nelson’s little craft, containing
thirteen persons in all, and a desperate hand-to-hand fight ensued.
The Rear-Admiral would have lost his life had it not been for the good
services of John Sykes, the coxswain, one of those humble heroes of
whom one hears too little, so predominant are the greater figures
of history. The enemy paid dearly for the exploit. Eighteen of the
crew were killed, several wounded, the Commander was taken prisoner,
and the boat captured. On the 5th of the same month Cadiz was again
bombarded, and according to the official despatch, the cannonade
“produced considerable effect in the Town and among the Shipping.” The
Earl of St Vincent now proved how strict a disciplinarian he was. The
crews of some of the ships had shown unmistakable signs of mutiny, and
the Court Martial having passed sentence on four of the ringleaders,
the Commander-in-Chief saw no reason for delaying the execution of
the sentence. He had the men hanged on a Sunday, a few hours after
they had been found guilty. Nelson strongly approved of the execution,
“even although it is _Sunday_. The particular situation of the service
requires extraordinary measures.” It is significant that no signs of
dissatisfaction made themselves felt in any of the Rear-Admiral’s
ships, but Nelson’s words show that he would not have condoned anything
of the kind.
An attack on Santa Cruz, where it was believed that the _Principe
d’Asturias_, a ship of considerable value belonging to the Philippine
Company, had taken shelter, next fell to Nelson’s lot. He had already
hinted to the Admiral that the conquest of Teneriffe was an object
very dear to him, which he was confident “could not fail of success,
would immortalize the undertakers, ruin Spain, and has every prospect
of raising our Country to a higher pitch of wealth than she has ever
yet attained....” His plan was to utilise the 3700 soldiers from
Elba; “I will undertake with a very small Squadron to do the Naval
part.” The scheme fell through, to be revived by the Earl himself,
but it was to be carried out without the assistance of the troops.
Three sail-of-the-line and the same number of frigates were placed at
Nelson’s disposal. Ladders, sledge-hammers, wedges, axes, additional
iron ram-rods, and a sleigh for dragging cannon formed a necessary
part of the equipment. A perusal of the regulations recommended by
the Rear-Admiral shows that he took the most elaborate precautions to
ensure success. Captain Thomas Troubridge, of the _Culloden_, was given
command of the entire force, Captain Oldfield directing the Marines,
Lieutenant Baynes his detachment of the Royal Artillery. The first
attempt was made on the night of the 21st and failed, largely owing to
adverse weather. As a consequence the spot which Nelson had indicated
as most suitable for landing was not reached, and dawn disclosed the
whereabouts of the little expedition to the Spaniards. It was also
found impossible to get the battle-ships close enough to the fort to
create a diversion by bombardment while the storming party attempted to
gain the heights.
Any blame which may have been attributable to Troubridge was minimised
by Nelson in his despatch to the Admiral, “all has hitherto been done
which was possible, without effect.” He therefore decided to command
in person, “and to-morrow my head will probably be crowned with either
laurel or cypress.” Did some premonition of disaster lead him to write
to the Earl of St Vincent to recommend his step-son “to you and my
Country,” and to add that “should I fall in the service of my King and
Country” the Duke of Clarence would “take a lively interest” in Josiah
Nisbet? It was certainly not his way of saying things at this stage
of his career, although we know that in 1805 he avowed that Trafalgar
would be his last battle.
[Illustration: Nelson wounded at Santa Cruz
R. Caton Woodville]
On the 24th Nelson was able to get his ships nearer land than on the
previous occasion. He and nearly a thousand men set out in small boats
at about eleven o’clock at night for the Mole, where they were to
disembark. The oars being muffled and dead silence enjoined, the enemy
did not discover their approach till they were within half gun-shot of
the appointed _rendez-vous_. Immediately thirty or forty cannon blazed
out, the sharp ping of musket shots rent the air, but, says Nelson,
“nothing could stop the intrepidity of the Captains leading the
divisions. Unfortunately, the greatest part of the Boats did not see
the Mole, but went on shore through a raging surf, which stove all the
Boats to the left of it.”
With the companies of four or five boats and two Captains, the
Rear-Admiral stormed the landing-place in the darkness and took
possession of it in the presence of several hundred of the enemy. They
then proceeded to spike the guns, but were driven back by the heavy
fire which seemed to issue from every available point. Scarcely a man
escaped death or a wound. Nelson was shot through the right elbow as
he was stepping from the boat. With rare presence of mind he quietly
transferred the sword he carried to his left hand. This weapon, once
the property of his uncle Maurice Suckling, was treasured by him
almost more than any other possession. He was not going to leave that
of all things on Spanish soil! Young Nisbet happened to be near his
step-father at the moment he received his wound, and placed him in the
bottom of the boat. He then held the arm so as to staunch the blood,
untied the silk handkerchief round his neck and bound up the injury
as best he could. After passing under the enemy’s batteries the few
men who had regained the little craft bent to the oars and eventually
pulled out of range of the guns, but not before some of the crew of the
_Fox_, who had been flung into the sea owing to the sinking of that
cutter, had been rescued by them. Someone suggested that Nelson should
be taken to the nearest vessel for surgical treatment. He would not
hear of this because the captain’s wife happened to be on board and
he had no intelligence of her husband’s fate. Whatever agonies Nelson
suffered, as the sadly denuded crew made their way to the _Theseus_,
were kept to himself; scarcely a groan escaped his lips.
“At two o’clock [A.M.],” says a midshipman who saw the sorrowful
boatload, “Admiral Nelson returned on board, being dreadfully wounded
in the right arm with a grape-shot. I leave you to judge of my
situation, when I beheld our boat approach with him who I may say
has been a second father to me, his right arm dangling by his side,
whilst with the other he helped himself to jump up the Ship’s side,
and with a spirit that astonished every one, told the surgeon to get
his instruments ready, for he knew he must lose his arm, and that the
sooner it was off the better. He underwent the amputation with the same
firmness and courage that have always marked his character.”
Captain Troubridge and his men landed near the citadel after most of
the ammunition had been soaked by the surf, which was so violent that
it filled the boats and stove them against the treacherous rocks. With
a handful of heroes he proceeded to the Square, previously appointed
as the meeting-place of the various parties before the final attack.
The scaling ladders having been lost, and no further men making their
appearance after an hour’s wait, he set out to meet Captains Hood
and Miller, whom he believed had effected a landing elsewhere. “By
day-break,” runs his official report to Nelson, “we had collected about
eighty Marines, eighty Pike-men, and one hundred and eighty small-arm
Seamen. These, I found, were all that were alive that had made good
their landing. With this force, having procured some ammunition from
the Spanish prisoners we had made, we were marching to try what could
be done with the Citadel without ladders; but found the whole of the
streets commanded by field-pieces, and upwards of eight thousand
Spaniards and one hundred French under arms, approaching by every
avenue. As the boats were all stove, and I saw no possibility of
getting more men on shore--the ammunition wet, and no provisions--I
sent Captain Hood with a Flag of Truce to the Governor, to say I was
prepared to burn the Town, which I should immediately put in force
if he approached one inch further; and, at the same time, I desired
Captain Hood to say it would be done with regret, as I had no wish to
injure the inhabitants; that if he would come to my terms, I was ready
to treat, which he readily agreed to....”
The terms were, “That the Troops, etc., belonging to his Britannic
Majesty shall embark with all their arms of every kind, and take their
Boats off, if saved, and be provided with such other as may be wanting;
in consideration of which it is engaged on their part they shall not
molest the Town in any manner by the Ships of the British Squadron now
before it, or any of the Islands in the Canaries; and prisoners shall
be given up on both sides.”
Troubridge’s game of bluff succeeded. His Excellency Don Antonio
Gutierrez, Commandant-General of the Canary Islands, rid himself of the
invaders and was rewarded by Nelson with a cask of English beer and a
cheese!
It says much for Nelson’s indomitable pluck and recuperative powers,
as well as for his keen interest in the service, that he allowed only
two days to intervene before he penned a letter with his left hand to
the Admiral. That he was depressed is obvious, that he still had a
fund of grim humour is equally evident by the quaint postscript. The
communication runs as follows:
_Theseus, July 27th, 1797._
“MY DEAR SIR,
“I am become a burthen to my friends, and useless to my Country;
but by my letter wrote the 24th,[20] you will perceive my anxiety
for the promotion of my son-in-law, Josiah Nisbet.[21] When I
leave your command, I become dead to the World; I go hence, and am
no more seen. If from poor Bowen’s loss,[22] you think it proper
to oblige me, I rest confident you will do it; the Boy is under
obligations to me, but he repaid me by bringing me from the Mole
of Santa Cruz.
“I hope you will be able to give me a frigate, to convey the
remains of my carcase to England. God bless you, my dear Sir, and
believe me, your most obliged and faithful,
“HORATIO NELSON.
“You will excuse my scrawl, considering it is my first attempt.
“Sir John Jervis, K.Bth.”
In another despatch to his senior officer the leader of the ill-fated
expedition avers that “A left-handed Admiral will never again be
considered as useful, therefore the sooner I get to a very humble
cottage the better, and make room for a better man to serve the
State.” The noble Earl’s reply must have been as healing balm to the
wounded body and depressed spirit of the man whose brilliant success
had been followed so quickly by disastrous failure. “Mortals cannot
command success;” he begins, “you and your Companions have certainly
deserved it, by the greatest degree of heroism and perseverance that
ever was exhibited.” Such praise from St Vincent was praise indeed,
and he whimsically concludes by saying that he will “bow to your stump
to-morrow morning, if you will give me leave.”
On the 20th August 1797, Nelson struck his flag on the _Theseus_ and
hoisted it on the _Seahorse_, in which ship he made “a very miserable
passage home.” He arrived at Spithead on the 1st September and
proceeded to Bath. To his brother he reported that his health “never
was better, and my arm is in the fairest way of soon healing.” He
intended to journey to London, perhaps pay a short visit to Norfolk
“for a few days, especially if a decent house is likely to be met with
near Norwich; but Wroxham very far indeed exceeds my purse. Bath will
be my home till next spring.” On the other hand Lady Nelson wrote on
the same date that her husband suffered “a good deal of pain--the arm
is taken off very high, near the shoulder,” and he only obtained rest
by resorting to opium.
If he never minimised a victory in his communications Nelson certainly
did not remark unduly on his wounds. In writing to the Duke of Clarence
he merely referred to “my accident,” and passed on to assure his royal
friend “that not a scrap of that ardour with which I have hitherto
served our King has been shot away.” It is only right, however, to add
that in communicating with the Comptroller of the Navy he was perhaps
a little unjust to Troubridge in the matter of the initial attempt on
Santa Cruz: “Had I been with the first party, I have reason to believe
complete success would have crowned our endeavours.[23] My pride
suffered; and although I felt the second attack a forlorn hope, yet the
honour of our Country called for the attack, and that I should command
it. I never expected to return, and am thankful.”
On the 27th September, Nelson was invested with the Ensigns of the
Order of the Bath by George III. at St James’s Palace. In addition he
was granted a pension of £1000 a year, having been “engaged against the
Enemy upwards of one hundred and twenty times.” He became a popular
hero, but as he himself said, “Success covers a multitude of blunders,
and the want of it hides the greatest gallantry and good conduct.”
Compared to the victory off Cape St Vincent the Santa Cruz fiasco was
of little moment. Kind-hearted John Bull dismissed the latter incident
and thought only of the former.