Twelve weary Months in the Mediterranean
(1804)
“_My wish is to make a grand_ coup.”
NELSON.
A new year had dawned. “The storm is brewing,” Nelson wrote, and he
thought Sardinia “one of the objects of its violence.” If that island
were captured or ceded to the enemy, “Sicily, Malta, Egypt, &c., &c.,
is lost, sooner or later.” The Madalena Islands, to the north of
Sardinia, not only afforded the ships a safe anchorage but ensured
plenty of fresh water and provisions: “Sardinia is the most important
post in the Mediterranean. It covers Naples, Sicily, Malta, Egypt,
and all the Turkish dominions; it blockades Toulon; the wind which
would carry a French fleet to the westward is fair from Sardinia; and
Madalena is the most important station in this most important island. I
am told that the revenues, after paying the expenses of the island, do
not give the king 5000 _l._ sterling a year. If it is so, I would give
him 500,000 _l._ to cede it, which would give him 25,000 _l._ a year
for ever. This is only my conversation, and not to be noticed--but the
king cannot long hold Sardinia.” On the 11th February 1804 he assures
“my dear friend” Ball that “we are ... on the eve of great events; the
sooner they come the better.” Private letters led him to believe that
the squadrons at Brest and Ferrol were to form a junction with that at
Toulon. Should his surmise prove correct he inferred an invasion of
both the Morea and Egypt, a belief fostered by the wily Napoleon by
means of a camp under General St Cyr at Taranto, in the heel of Italy.
Nelson communicated his notions to the Grand Vizier. “Your Highness,”
he adds, “knows them too well to put any confidence in what they say.
Bonaparte’s tongue is that of a serpent oiled. Nothing shall be wanting
on my part to frustrate the designs of this common disturber of the
human race.”
He pens a little grumble to Dr Moseley in March, complaining that the
Mediterranean fleet seems “forgotten by the great folks at home,” but
adding with pardonable pride that although the vessels have been at sea
a week short of ten months, “not a ship has been refitted or recruited,
excepting what has been done at sea. You will readily believe that all
this must have shaken me. My sight is getting very bad, but _I_ must
not be sick until after the French fleet is taken.” He includes some
facts regarding his manifold interests as Commander-in-chief. He always
had good mutton for invalids, gave half the allowance of grog instead
of all wine in winter, changed the cruising ground so as not to allow
“the sameness of prospect to satiate the mind,” obtained onions, “the
best thing that can be given to seamen,” by sending a ship for them to
Corsica, and always had “plenty of fresh water.” In the stirring days
of the first decade of the nineteenth century a British Admiral was in
very truth “shepherd of his flock.” He thought for the men and their
officers, saw to their creature comforts, even provided amusement for
them. Moreover, he had to be a diplomatist, something of a soldier,
and a man of resource and reliance. The sailors of England alone
made invasion impossible and nullified the superhuman efforts of the
greatest soldier of recorded history to subjugate the Island Kingdom.
Unpreparedness is peculiarly characteristic of British policy. It
will not surprise students to be told at the beginning of 1804 there
were ten fewer sail-of-the-line than had been available before the
Peace of Amiens. Weight of brain has won more battles than weight of
metal, although it is safer and wiser to have a preponderating supply
of both. We shall see what a dearth of frigates, which are “the eyes of
a fleet,” to use Nelson’s apt expression, meant to the Admiral in the
prelude to the Trafalgar campaign. He was already complaining of their
absence.
La Touche Tréville was now in command at Toulon. Nelson disliked the
man as sincerely as he loathed the nation whom he represented; he
could “never trust a Corsican or a Frenchman.” La Touche Tréville had
been commodore, it will be remembered, of the Boulogne flotilla when
Nelson had made his abortive attacks on it. These were lauded all over
France as “glorious contests.” Nelson was what is usually called, by
a strange misnomer, “a good hater.” Thus to duty was added a personal
rivalry that filled him with an ardent longing to “get even” with his
antagonist.
Napoleon had now a sufficient number of small boats at Boulogne and
neighbouring ports for the conveyance of his 130,000 troops to England.
He had abandoned his original plan and was determined that the Navy
proper should play an important part in the perilous project. The
Toulon fleet, after releasing the French _l’Aigle_ at Cadiz, was to be
joined by five ships off Rochefort under Villeneuve, and then hasten
to Boulogne to convoy the flotilla. The rôle of the squadron at Brest
was to be passive, although reports were spread far and wide that the
ships there were to take an army to Ireland. This was done so that
Cornwallis, blockading that port, might not form a junction with the
squadron in the Downs for the purpose of opposing the crossing of the
vast armament from the northern seaport. If all these combinations were
successfully carried out Napoleon would have sixteen sail-of-the-line
ready for the master-stroke. Everything depended on whether the English
blockading squadrons off Toulon, Cadiz, Rochefort, and in the Downs
could be eluded.
On the 8th April Nelson again wrote, “We are on the eve of
great events,” and proceeded to tell his correspondent that two
sail-of-the-line had “put their heads outside Toulon,” and a little
later “they all came out. We have had a gale of wind and calm since;
therefore I do not know whether they are returned to port or have kept
the sea. I have only to wish to get alongside of them with the present
fleet under my command; so highly officered and manned, the event ought
not to be doubted.”
“If we go on playing out and in, we shall some day get at them,” he
tells Frere.
Monsieur La Touche was merely exercising his ships; the time for the
grand coup was not yet come. Nelson’s opinion now was that the Brest
fleet and a squadron he does not name, but probably that at Rochefort,
were destined for the Mediterranean “either before or after they may
have thrown their cargo of troops on shore in Ireland. Egypt and the
Morea supposed to be their next object after their English and Irish
schemes.” On the 24th May the French made a further excursion, five
sail-of-the-line, three frigates, and several smaller vessels came
out of the harbour, which was being watched by a small squadron under
Rear-Admiral Campbell. Nelson did not believe in showing the whole of
his available resources to the enemy. By being out of sight he hoped
to entice the enemy to leave their safe anchorage: “My system is the
very contrary of blockading.” He was delighted that Campbell did not
allow the French to bring him to action with the small resources at
his disposal, which is another example of Nelson’s cautious methods.
He thanked the admiral by letter, and concluded by saying, “I have no
doubt but an opportunity will offer of giving them fair battle.”
Nelson continued to complain of ill health. “A sort of rheumatic
fever,” “blood gushing up the left side of my head, and the moment it
covers the brain, I am fast asleep,” a “violent pain in my side, and
night-sweats”--this is his condition as he diagnosed it to Dr Baird
on the 30th May. A week later he is buoyant at the thought of battle:
“Some happy day I expect to see his (La Touche Tréville’s) eight sail,
which are in the outer road, come out; and if he will get abreast of
Porquerolle, I will try what stuff he is made of; therefore you see I
have no occasion to be fretful; on the contrary, I am full of hopes,
and command a fleet which never gives me an uneasy moment.”
Eight French sail-of-the-line, accompanied by half a dozen frigates,
made an excursion on the 14th June, and Campbell was again chased. The
latter sailed towards the main fleet, but La Touche Tréville was by
no means anxious to try conclusions with his old enemy. After sailing
about four leagues, he crept back to safer quarters. The British
Admiral afterwards referred to this little excursion as a “caper.” “I
was off with five ships-of-the-line,” he adds, “and brought to for his
attack, although I did not believe that anything was meant serious, but
merely a gasconade.” With this conclusion La Touche Tréville begged
to differ. He saw in the “caper” a bold manœuvre and an excellent
opportunity for currying favour in the eyes of his exacting chief,
who by no means overrated the commander’s abilities. His despatch to
Napoleon runs as follows:[64]
“I have the honour to give you an account of the _sortie_ of the whole
of the squadron under my orders. Having been advised that several
English privateers were infesting the coast and the Islands of Hyères,
I gave orders, three days ago, to the frigates _Incorruptible_ and
_Siren_ and the brig _Ferret_ to proceed to the Bay of Hyères. The
Easterly wind being against them they anchored under the Castle
of Porqueroles. Yesterday morning the enemy became aware of their
presence. Towards noon they detached two frigates and another vessel,
which entered by the broad passage with the intention of cutting off
the retreat of our frigates. As soon as I saw this manœuvre I signalled
to the whole squadron to make sail, and this was done. In fourteen
minutes all were under sail and I made for the enemy in order to cut
him off from the narrow passage and to follow him up if he attempted
it. But the English Admiral soon gave up his design, recalled his
vessel and his two frigates engaged amongst the Islands and took to
flight. I pursued him till nightfall; he was heading for the S.E. At
daybreak I had lost sight of him.”
When Nelson heard of this communication he was furious. “You will
have seen his letter of how he chased me and how I ran,” he tells his
brother, the Rev. W. Nelson. “I keep it; and, by ----, if I take him he
shall eat it!”
Nelson continued to fear the loss of Sardinia, which “will be great
indeed.” In this matter he was wrong, for Napoleon entertained no idea
of conquest in that direction. There was every indication, on the other
hand, that he might do so, and the Admiral is not to be blamed but
praised for his zeal in behalf of the island which meant so much to the
fleet under his command. When he heard that Vice-Admiral Ganteaume had
hoisted his flag at Brest he was sure that an attempt would be made to
reach the Mediterranean. “The French navy is daily increasing, both
at Toulon and Brest, whilst ours is as clearly going down-hill,” is
Nelson’s summing-up of the situation in the early days of July 1804.
He then pours out the vials of his wrath on Addington’s administration
because it had not taken sufficiently to heart the old adage, “in times
of peace prepare for war”: “We made use of the peace, not to recruit
our navy, but to be the cause of its ruin. Nothing but a speedy battle,
a complete annihilation of the enemy’s fleets, and a seven years’
peace, can get our fleet in the order it ought to be; therefore I,
for one, do not wish to be shackled with allies. I am for assisting
Europe to the utmost of my power, but no treaties, which England only
keeps.” This was with reference to a suggested treaty with Russia:
“Such alliances have never benefited our country.” Europe, he says, is
“degenerate.” A month later he refers to his “shattered carcase,” which
“requires rest.” Then he bows to Fate, says he submits, and states that
all his wishes “now rest that I may meet Monsieur La Touche before
October is over.”
La Touche Tréville died on the 18th August 1804. He was buried on Cape
Sepet, his successor, Villeneuve, making a funeral oration. Unaware
that his enemy was vanquished, we find Nelson writing on the 19th that
“Such a liar is below my notice, except to thrash him, which will be
done,” if in his power. “I never heard of his acting otherwise than
as a poltroon and a liar,” is another of his remarks, which scarcely
soften when he heard the “miscreant” was in his coffin: “La Touche has
given me the slip--he died of the colic; perhaps Bonaparte’s, for they
say he was a rank republican.” With misplaced humour the French press
asserted that the Admiral had died of over-exertion due to “walking so
often up to the signal-post upon Sepet to watch the British fleet.”
War with Spain, which Nelson had predicted, was formally declared by
that Power on the 12th December 1804. Napoleon had already exacted
a handsome annual sum from her treasury, a matter overlooked by
the British Government for reasons of policy. When he secured the
assistance of the Spanish navy, Pitt, who was again in office, refused
to be hoodwinked, and warned the traitorous neutrals. As this was
unheeded, four frigates, two of which belonged to Nelson’s fleet, were
sent to intercept four treasure ships from South America off Cadiz.
The two forces came in sight on the 5th October. Although the Spanish
vessels were not prepared to fight, an action took place consequent on
the commander refusing to surrender. The Spanish _Mercedes_ blew up,
and the others were seized as prizes. A declaration of war, prompted by
Napoleon, was the result. The ruler of France was playing into his own
hands with his usual unscrupulous skill.
The command off Cadiz had now been given to Sir John Orde. Nelson,
quite naturally, did not approve this apportioning out of what he
regarded as his own preserves. “I almost begin to think,” he says,
with reference to Orde, “that he is sent off Cadiz to reap the golden
harvest, as Campbell was sent off Cadiz by Cornwallis (by orders from
England) to reap my sugar harvest. It’s very odd, two Admiralties to
treat me so: surely I have dreamt that I have ‘done the State some
service.’ But never mind; I am superior to those who could treat me so.
When am I to be relieved?”
Not yet! There was much to do and darker days to be lived through
before the Master Mariner could sleep peacefully ashore.