The Vigil off Toulon
(1803)
“_I shall follow them to the Antipodes._”
NELSON.
For over a year Nelson spent the greater part of his time at Merton
Place or at 23 Piccadilly, Sir William Hamilton’s town house. Any
monotony there may have been was relieved by a tour of beautiful Wales,
made in the months of July and August 1802, when Nelson’s spirits had
recovered somewhat from the news of his father’s death at Bath on the
26th of the previous April. The old clergyman’s distinguished son was
ill at the time and did not attend the last sad ceremony in the quiet
churchyard of Burnham Thorpe, where Nelson said he hoped his bones
would eventually be laid to rest, a wish never to be fulfilled. His
father, who called Merton “the Mansion of Peace,” had entertained the
idea of becoming “one of its inhabitants,” and rooms had been prepared
for him. “Sir William and myself are both old men, and we will witness
the hero’s felicity in retirement.” Such was his desire.
On their journey to the Principality Nelson was presented with
the freedom of Oxford, and both Sir William and the Admiral had
the honorary degree of Doctor of Laws conferred upon them by the
University. A visit was also paid to Blenheim, the ancestral seat of
the Dukes of Marlborough. Gloucester, Ross, Monmouth, Brecon, Milford,
Haverfordwest, Swansea, Worcester, Birmingham, Warwick and other
provincial cities and towns each accorded its distinguished visitor a
most enthusiastic welcome. He afterwards drew up an elaborate report on
the Forest of Dean for Mr Addington’s inspection. Properly cultivated
it would, in Nelson’s opinion, “produce about 9200 loads of timber,
fit for building Ships-of-the-line, every year.” Collingwood, it may
be added, was also deeply interested in afforestation. During the rare
occasions he was on shore he would walk about his estate and stealthily
take an acorn from his pocket and drop it in the earth for later
service in his Majesty’s Navy.
On his return to Surrey Nelson vegetated. “I am really so very little
in the world,” he tells Davison in October, “that I know little, if
anything, beyond [what] Newspaper reports say respecting our conduct
on the affairs of the Continent. It is true, I have seen Mr Addington
and Lord St Vincent several times; but our conversations were like
Swift’s and Lord Oxford’s. Yet it was not difficult to discover, that
_we_ felt our importance in the scale of Europe degraded, if Buonaparte
was allowed to act as he has lately done; and that it was necessary for
us to speak a dignified language.... By the meeting of Parliament many
things must come forth.”
The Hamilton-Nelson family forsook Merton for Piccadilly at the
beginning of 1803, and there Sir William died on the 6th April, after
having been tenderly nursed by his wife and her more than intimate
friend. It is impossible to think that the Admiral had any heartfelt
sorrow when the former Ambassador breathed his last, but his emotional
nature led him to write the kindest things of the dead man. “The world
never, never lost a more upright and accomplished gentleman” is one of
his expressions at the event.
The Truce of Amiens, for it was nothing more, was described by George
III. as “an experimental peace.” Neither side kept strictly to the
letter of the Treaty. Before the brilliant illuminations on both
sides of the Channel had been entirely forgotten statesmen began to
shake their heads and to prophecy the withdrawing of the sword from
the scabbard. Napoleon’s continued aggressions on the Continent, his
great colonial schemes, his restless activity in matters which did not
directly concern him, his threat to invade England showed how unreal
were his wishes for a settled understanding. Great Britain declared
war on the 16th May 1803, thus ending a peace which had lasted one
year and sixteen days. An embargo was immediately laid on French ships
and those of her allies in British ports or on the sea; Napoleon had
been forestalled, an unusual occurrence. He had admitted to Decaen,
who had been sent to India to sum up the political situation and
to ascertain the number of troops necessary for the subjugation of
England’s oriental Empire, that he anticipated war would not break out
before September 1804. He was annoyed, intensely annoyed, and ordered
the seizure of every Briton in France on the pretext that two merchant
vessels had been captured by English frigates before the declaration of
war. This was a gross misrepresentation of facts; the ships mentioned
were taken on the 18th May, the day Nelson hoisted his flag on the
_Victory_ at Portsmouth as Commander-in-chief of the Mediterranean.
Within forty-eight hours he was at sea. His was a tremendous programme,
and it is only possible to give an epitome of it here. He was to
proceed to Malta, where he would probably find Rear-Admiral Sir Richard
Bickerton and his squadron, which were to join him. After having made
arrangements with Sir Alexander Ball for the protection and security of
the island, Nelson was to take up such a position off Toulon as would
enable him to destroy the enemy’s vessels and to detain those belonging
to the allied Batavian Republic. Particular attention was to be paid
to the proceedings of the French at Genoa, Leghorn, and other ports of
western Italy, “for the purpose of gaining the most early information
of any armaments that may be formed there, either with a view to an
attack upon Egypt or any other port of the Turkish dominions, or
against the kingdoms of Naples and Sicily, or the islands of Corfu.”
Should such a plan be in contemplation Nelson was to do his best to
counteract it, “as well as to afford to the Sublime Porte, and his
Sicilian Majesty and their subjects, any protection or assistance which
may be in your power, consistently with a due attention to the other
important objects entrusted to your care.”
There were good reasons for watching the conduct of Spain, which
purported to be a neutral. The Admiral was therefore to watch for any
sign of naval preparations by that Power in the Mediterranean and at
Cadiz. No Spanish ships were to be allowed to form a junction with
those of France or Batavia. As certain French sail-of-the-line recently
employed in conveying troops to San Domingo might attempt to make for a
southern port, Nelson was to detach part of his squadron to intercept
them.
We must now turn our attention for a moment to the other admirals who
watched the movements of the enemy’s squadrons, or guarded our shores.
Cornwallis was off Ushant, where he could mask the Brest fleet, Keith
was in the Downs, Lord Gardner was at Portsmouth, Admiral George
Montagu--shortly afterwards succeeded by Admiral Sir John Colpoys--was
at Plymouth. Squadrons were detached from these fleets to watch off
such important harbours as Ferrol and Rochefort, and also off the
coast of Holland. The British colonies were not neglected. “Floating
bulwarks” guarded them, for there was no knowing what deep-laid
manœuvres Napoleon might evolve when once his super-active brain was
bent on the problem of how to checkmate England on her own native
element.
Meanwhile Nelson had reached Ushant and was searching for Cornwallis,
with whom he was to leave the _Victory_, should the former think an
additional sail-of-the-line necessary. As he did not find the Admiral
he left the ship, shifted his flag to the _Amphion_ frigate, called
at Malta, and joined the fleet off Toulon on the 8th July. “With
the casual absence of one or two ships, we shall be always seven
sail-of-the-line,” a none too formidable force to watch the “goings on”
in the great southern arsenal, but he stuck to it with grim tenacity
in fair weather and foul. He soon found that to all appearances from
seven to nine French battle-ships and a considerable number of frigates
and corvettes were sheltered in the harbour. Unfortunately Nelson’s
vessels were far from being in the best of condition; several of them
were scarcely water-tight. His correspondence teems with reference to
their bad state, as, for instance: “It is not a store-ship a week which
could keep them in repair”; they had “crazy masts”; “their hulls want
docking”; “I never saw a fleet altogether so well officered and manned.
Would to God the ships were half as good, but they are what we call
crazy”; “I do not believe that Lord St Vincent would have kept the sea
with such ships,” and so on.
With the _personnel_ of the fleet Nelson had little fault to find,
although he had occasion to issue a General Memorandum respecting the
desertion of certain seamen or marines to the service of Spain. In his
eyes nothing could atone for such conduct: “A Briton to put himself
under the lash of a Frenchman or Spaniard must be more degrading to any
man of spirit than any punishment I could inflict on their bodies.”
With this exception all was well. While “miserably short of men,” he
was able to declare, towards the end of September 1803: “We are at
this moment the healthiest squadron I ever served in, for the fact is
we have no sick, and are all in good humour,” moreover they were “in
fine order to give the French a dressing.” Again: “The squadron has
health beyond what I have almost ever seen, except our going to the
Nile; and I hope, if the French will give us the opportunity, that
our beef and pudding will be as well applied.” No Admiral, before or
since, has ever paid more attention to the health and comfort of the
men who served under him. In the Memorandum to which we have just
referred he contrasts the “one shilling per day, and plenty of the
very best provisions, with every comfort that can be thought of,”
with the “twopence a day, black bread, horse-beans, and stinking oil”
allotted to those in the service of the enemy. Scurvy was rife when he
joined the fleet, but Nelson obtained onions and lemons, recognised
aids to the cure of the disorder, “and a sight of the French squadron
twenty leagues at sea will cure all our complaints.” Writing in August
to his friend Dr Baird he seeks to entertain the physician by relating
particulars of his treatment for scurvy. “I am now at work in Spain,”
he remarks, “and have procured some bullocks and a good supply of
onions--the latter we have found the greatest advantage from.” He
adds: “The health of our seamen is invaluable; and to purchase that,
no expense ought to be spared.” He even managed to secure cattle and
vegetables from France. The fleet was watered at the Madalena Islands.
At the end of July the _Victory_, having been returned to the fleet
by Cornwallis, again became Nelson’s flagship. As to the ultimate
destination of the Toulon fleet Nelson was in doubt; that it was to
sail before long he felt convinced owing to the activity manifest in
the harbours. He rightly judged Napoleon’s character: “We know he
is not very scrupulous in the honourable means of accomplishing his
darling object.... My firm opinion is, that the Mediterranean will
again be an active scene; and if Ministers do not look out, I shall
have the Brest fleet to pay me a visit; for as the army can only be
moved by the protection of a superior fleet, that fleet they will try
to have, and a month’s start of us would do all the mischief.” At that
time (July) he believed that Napoleon would make an attempt on the
Morea, perhaps in concert with Russia, the downfall of the Turkish
Empire in Europe would follow, and “Candia and Egypt would, of course,
if this plan is followed, be given to the French, when, sooner or
later, farewell India!” Of the enormous flotilla which Napoleon was
building at Boulogne and elsewhere, Nelson thought little, if at all.
“What! he begins to find excuses!” he writes to Ball. “I thought he
would invade England in the face of the sun! Now he wants a three-days’
fog, that never yet happened! and if it did, how are his craft to be
kept together? He will soon find more excuses or there will be an end
of Bonaparte, and may the devil take him!” He was more concerned, and
with reason, as to the whereabouts of the fleet returning from San
Domingo, which he thought would “come to the Mediterranean--perhaps,
first to Cadiz, to get the Spaniards to escort them. If so, I may have
two fleets to fight; but if I have the ships, the more the merrier.”
In August the Admiral tells Addington: “I am looking out for the
French squadron--perhaps you may think impatiently; but I have made up
my mind never to go into port till after the battle, if they make me
wait a year, provided the Admiralty change the ships, who cannot keep
the sea in the winter, except _Victory_, _Canopus_, _Donegal_, and
_Belleisle_.” The fitting out of an expedition at Marseilles led Nelson
to think that the invasion of Sardinia was contemplated. He therefore
detached the only two frigates he had with him at the moment to cruise
off Ajaccio to endeavour to intercept the enemy should they come that
way. “Of course they will say that we have broken the neutrality if
we attack them in the ports of Sardinia before their conquest, and if
we do not I shall be laughed at for a fool. Prevention is better than
cure.... My station to the westward of Toulon, an unusual one, has been
taken upon an idea that the French fleet is bound out of the Straits,
and probably to Ireland. It is said 10,000 men are collecting at
Toulon. I shall follow them to the Antipodes.”
To Sir Richard Strachan he thus sums up the situation on the 26th
August: “The French fleet being perfectly ready for sea, seven of the
line, six frigates, and some corvettes--two sail-of-the-line are now
rigging in the arsenal--I think it more than probable that they are
bound to the westward, out of the Mediterranean. Therefore, as I am
determined to follow them, go where they may, I wish you, in case they
escape me, to send a frigate or sloop after them to find out their
route, giving her a station where I may find her, and keep yourself
either at the mouth of the Straits or off Europa Point, for I certainly
shall not anchor at Gibraltar.” In the middle of October he is still
as uncertain as ever as to the destination of the French. Some folk
favoured the Morea, others Egypt, “and they may be bound outside the
Mediterranean.” “Is it Ireland or the Levant?” he asks Ball in the
early days of dreary November.
Think for one moment, as you sit reading this book in a comfortable
room or on a little hillock in the open country, of the ceaseless vigil
of Nelson as his weather-beaten vessels lay off Toulon. When a sea fog
obscured his quarry he was in a fever of anxiety. “It was thick for two
days,” he tells his brother William on one occasion, “and our frigates
could not look into Toulon; however, I was relieved, for the first time
in my life, by being informed the French were still in port.” Then
there was always the possibility that the Brest fleet might escape and
make its appearance at an awkward moment, and the likelihood of a visit
from the returning squadron from the West Indies. He early discerned
the outbreak of war with Spain. Pretending to be a neutral, that Power
most assuredly exhibited the most flagrant favouritism for France. We
have noted that Nelson anticipated the aid of the Dons to the French
in the matter of the ships from San Domingo, help that was readily
given when the vessels, evading Rear-admiral Campbell, stole into
Coruña. This, of course, necessitated a strict blockade of the port,
and Pellew was sent there instead of stationing himself off Rochefort
as had been originally intended. References to them are frequent in his
correspondence. Writing to the British Consul at Barcelona under date
of the 13th September Nelson claimed “every indulgence which is shown
to the ships of our enemies. The French squadron at Coruña are acting
almost as they please; the _Aigle_ French ship of war is not turned
out of Cadiz,[63] the French frigate _Revenge_ is permitted to go out
of that port, cruise, and return with prizes, and sell them. I will
not state that every Spanish port is a home for French privateers, for
this is well known; and I am informed that even at Barcelona English
vessels captured by the French have been sold there. You will acquaint
his Excellency [the Captain-general] that I claim for every British
ship, or squadron, the right of lying as long as I please in the ports
of Spain, whilst it is allowed to other powers; that I claim the rights
of hospitality and civility, and every other right which the harmony
subsisting between our sovereigns entitles us to.” This communication
was followed thirteen days later by a despatch to Strachan in which
Nelson is not only prophetic, but exhibits a cautious mood not usually
associated with “the Nelson whom Britons love.” In this respect he has
been much maligned. In battle his genius enabled him to see a little
ahead of more ordinary men, but he never overstepped the bounds of
prudence. “The occurrences which pass every day in Spain forebode, I
fancy, a speedy war with England; therefore it becomes proper for me
to put you upon your guard, and advise you how to act under particular
circumstances. By looking at the former line of conduct on the part of
Spain, which she followed just before the commencement of the last war,
we may naturally expect the same events to happen. The French Admiral
Richery was in Cadiz, blocked up by Admiral Man: on 22 August they
came to sea attended by the Spanish fleet, which saw the French safe
beyond St Vincent, and returned into Cadiz. Admiral Man very properly
did not choose to attack Admiral Richery under such an escort. This is
a prelude to what I must request your strict attention to; at the same
time, I am fully aware that you must be guided, in some measure, by
actual circumstances.
“I think it very probable, even before Spain breaks with us, that
they may send a ship or two of the line to see _l’Aigle_ round Cape
St Vincent; and that if you attack her in their presence, they may
attack you; and giving them possession of the _Donegal_ would be more
than either you or I should wish, therefore I am certain it must be
very comfortable for you to know my sentiments. From what you hear
in Cadiz, you will judge how far you may venture yourself in company
with a Spanish squadron; but if you are of opinion that you may trust
yourself near them, keeping certainly out of gun-shot, send your boat
with a letter to the Spanish commodore, and desire to know whether he
means to defend the French ships; and get his answer in writing, and
have it as plain as possible. If it be ‘yes, that he will fire at you
if you attack the French under his protection,’ then, if you have force
enough, make your attack on the whole body, and take them all if you
can, for I should consider such an answer as a perfect declaration of
war. If you are too weak for such an attack, you must desist; but you
certainly are fully authorised to take the ships of Spain whenever
you meet them. Should the answer be ambiguous, you must then act as
your judgment may direct you, and I am sure that will be very proper.
Only recollect, that it would be much better to let the French ships
escape, than to run too great a risk of losing the _Donegal_, yourself,
and ship’s company.” To Addington he states that “The Spaniards are
now so very uncivil to our ships, that I suppose we shall not be much
longer friends.” To John Hookham Frere, _Chargé d’Affaires_ at Madrid,
he admits, “We have given up French vessels taken within gun-shot of
the Spanish shore, and yet French vessels are permitted to attack our
ships from the Spanish shore. Your Excellency may assure the Spanish
Government, that in whatever place the Spaniards allow the French to
attack us, in that place I shall order the French to be attacked. The
old order of 1771, now put in force against us, is infamous; and I
trust your Excellency will take proper steps that the present mode of
enforcing it be done away. It is gross partiality, and not neutrality.”
There is a pathetic letter dated the 12th December 1803 in which
Nelson confides to his old friend Davison some of the perils which he
encountered daily. “My crazy fleet,” he writes, “are getting in a very
indifferent state, and others will soon follow. The finest ships in the
service will soon be destroyed. I know well enough that if I was to go
into Malta, I should save the ships during this bad season. But if I
am to watch the French, I must be at sea, and if at sea, must have bad
weather; and if the ships are not fit to stand bad weather, they are
useless.... But my time of service is nearly over. A natural anxiety,
of course, must attend my station; but, my dear friend, my eyesight
fails me most dreadfully. I firmly believe that, in a very few years, I
shall be stone-blind. It is this only, of all my maladies, that makes
me unhappy; but God’s will be done.”
Nelson had taken up his station “to the westward of Sicie,” a
position enabling him “to prevent the junction of a Spanish fleet
from the westward,” and also “to take shelter in a few hours either
under the Hières Islands or Cape St Sebastian; and I have hitherto
found the advantage of the position. Now Spain, having settled her
neutrality”--he is writing on the 12th December to Lord St Vincent--“I
am taking my winter’s station under St Sebastian, to avoid the heavy
seas in the gulf, and keep frigates off Toulon. From September we have
experienced such a series of bad weather that is rarely met with, and
I am sorry to say that all the ships which have been from England in
the late war severely feel it.... I know no way of watching the enemy
but to be at sea, and therefore good ships are necessary.” On the same
day he informs a third correspondent that the enemy at Toulon “are
perfectly ready to put to sea, and they must soon come out, but who
shall [say] where they are bound? My opinion is, certainly out of the
Mediterranean.”
“We have had a most terrible winter: it has almost knocked me up,” he
tells Elliot within a few days of the close of this anxious year. “I
have been very ill, and am now far from recovered, but I hope to hold
out till the battle is over, when I must recruit myself for some future
exertion.”
An Indomitable Spirit this, the greatest sailor of all time!