THE HISTORY OF SHIPS AND SHIPPING INTERESTS (_continued_).
Progress of the American Colonies—Great Prevalence of
Piracy—Numerous Captures and Executions—A Proclamation of
Pardon—John Theach, or “Black Beard”—A Desperate
Pirate—Hand-and-glove with the Governor of North Carolina—Pretends
to accept the King’s Pardon—A Blind—His Defeat and Death—Unwise
Legislation and consequent Irritation—The Stamp Act—The Tea
Tax—Enormous Excitement—Tea-chests thrown into Boston
Harbour—Determined Attitude of the American Colonists—The Boston
Port Bill—Its Effects—Sympathy of all America—The final
Rupture—England’s Wars to the end of the Century—Nelson and the
Nile—Battle of Copenhagen.
During the early part of the eighteenth century, while Europe was
distracted by war, the American colonies were, “by peaceful and
undisturbed pursuits, laying the foundation of that prosperity which
enabled them, before the close of the century, to demand and obtain their
severance from the mother country, and their social and political
independence.” So early as 1729, Philadelphia had 6,000 tons of shipping,
and received in that year 6,208 emigrants from Great Britain. New York was
then carrying on a large trade in grain and provisions with Spain and
Portugal, besides forwarding considerable quantities of furs to England.
New England was furnishing the finest spars and masts in the world, while
that part of it which is now the State of Massachusetts had already
120,000 inhabitants, employing 40,000 tons of shipping, or about 600
vessels of all sizes. The fisheries were of great value, as much as a
quarter of a million quintals of dried fish being annually exported to
Spain, Portugal, and the Mediterranean. Carolina was doing a magnificent
business in the export of rice, Indian corn, and provisions of all kinds;
in pitch, turpentine, and lumber.
But one serious evil caused the colonists great annoyance and loss—the
prevalence of piracy. The State last named suffered far more than the
rest. Commercial restrictions, unwisely imposed by Great Britain, gave
rise to a large amount of smuggling, and from smuggling to piracy was an
easy transition. “These gangs of naval robbers were likewise frequently
recruited by British sailors, who had been trained to ferocity and
injustice by the legalised piracy of the slave-trade.”(17) One Captain
Quelch, the commander of a vessel which had committed numerous piracies,
ventured to take shelter, with his crew, in Massachusetts in the year
1704. He was detected, tried, and hanged, with six of his accomplices, in
Boston. In 1717 several vessels were captured on the coasts of New England
by a noted pirate, Captain Bellamy, a man who carried matters with a high
hand, having a vessel with twenty-three guns, and a crew of one hundred
and thirty men. The vessel was wrecked shortly afterwards on Cape Cod, the
captain and the whole of his crew, except six, perishing in the waves. The
pitiful remainder gained the shore, their fate literally realising Defoe’s
words—
“When what the sea would not, the gallows may;”
for they were immediately conveyed to Boston, tried, and executed. A
number of pirates were about the same time hanged in Virginia. In
consequence of the repeated complaints of British merchants regarding
these freebooters, George I. issued a proclamation offering a pardon to
all pirates who should surrender to any of the colonial governors within
twelve months; and in 1718 dispatched a few ships of war under Captain
Rogers, who, repairing to New Providence, then a perfect den of
sea-thieves, took possession of the place, and nearly all the pirates
there took the benefit of the royal proclamation. Steed Bennet and Richard
Worley, two pirate chiefs who had fled from New Providence at the approach
of Rogers, took possession of the mouth of Cape Fear River. They were
captured by Governor Johnson and Captain Rhett; and Bennet, who was a man
of good education, and had held the rank of major in the British army, was
executed at Charlestown, with forty-one of his accomplices. North Carolina
had been for a long time the haunt of one of the most desperate villains
of his time, John Theach, generally known as “Black Beard,” from an
enormous beard he wore, and which was adjusted, Grahame records, “with
elaborate care in such an inhuman disposition as was calculated to excite
both disgust and terror.... In battle, he has been represented with the
look and demeanour of a fury; carrying three braces of pistols on holsters
slung over his shoulders, and lighted matches under his hat, protruding
over each of his ears. The authority and admiration which the pirate
chiefs enjoyed among their fellows was proportioned to the audacity and
extravagance of their outrages on humanity; and none in this respect ever
challenged a rivalship with Theach.... Having frequently undertaken to
personify a demon for the entertainment of his followers, he declared at
length his purpose of gratifying them with an anticipated representation
of hell; and in this attempt had nearly stifled the whole crew with the
fumes of brimstone under the hatches of his vessel. In one of his
ecstasies, whilst heated with liquor, and sitting in his cabin, he took a
pistol in each hand, and, cocking them under the table, blew out the
lights, and then with crossed hands fired on each side at his companions,
one of whom received a shot that maimed him for life.” He was an early
Mormon, for he had fourteen women whom he called his wives. His chief
security had been the fact that Charles Eden, the governor, and Tobias
Knight, the secretary of the province, shared in his plunder and protected
him. As he was rich, and had been apprised of Rogers’ operations at New
Providence, he judged it wise to accept the benefit of the king’s
proclamation, and, with twenty of his men, pretended to surrender to Eden,
who had been a receiver of goods or gold stolen by him.
[Illustration: CAPE COD.]
This was, however, only a blind. He fitted out almost immediately
afterwards a sloop, which he entered at the Custom House as a regular
trader. In a few weeks he returned to North Carolina, bringing with him a
French ship in a state of perfect soundness, and with a valuable cargo on
board, which he deposed on oath that he had found deserted at sea, a
statement which quite satisfied Eden and Knight. Nobody else believed him,
and some of the Carolinians who had suffered by his hands appealed to the
Government of Virginia for aid in hunting down this pest of humanity.
Maynard, the lieutenant of a ship of war, was dispatched after him, found
him in Pamlico Sound, and, after a close encounter, prevailed. “Foreboding
defeat, Theach had posted one of his followers with a lighted match over
his powder magazine, that in the last extremity he might defraud human
justice of a part of its retributive triumph. But some accident or mistake
prevented the execution of this act of despair. Theach himself, surrounded
by slaughtered foes and followers, and bleeding from numerous wounds, in
the act of stepping back to cock a pistol, fainted from loss of blood, and
expired on the spot.” The few survivors threw down their swords, and were
spared—to die on the gallows shortly afterwards. Piracy was checked, but
not obliterated, by these means; and about five years after this period no
less than twenty-six of these “sea rats” were executed in Rhode Island.
[Illustration: THE “DARTMOUTH” IN BOSTON HARBOUR.]
This not being a history of America, the writer is spared all allusion to
events of the period except so far as they bear on the sea and maritime
matters. One of the greatest among a long series of mistakes made at the
time by Great Britain was an expedient, ascribed to George Grenville,
intended to strike a death-blow at smuggling. All the commanders and other
officers of British ships of war stationed off the American coasts, or
cruising in the American seas, now received injunctions and authority from
the Crown to act as officers of the customs; they were compelled to take
the usual oaths of office administered to the civil functionaries ashore;
and, to reconcile them to what they might think a service degrading to
them, they were to receive an ample share of contraband and confiscated
cargoes. It must be remembered that they were totally ignorant of the laws
which they were now required not merely to guard, but to administer; and
they had not the restraints of the ordinary Custom House officials, for
whatever wrong they might commit, no nearer redress was open to the
sufferer than an appeal to the Admiralty or Treasury of England. Many
cargoes were unjustly confiscated, and a number of others unreasonably
detained, to the great detriment of the owners; “and in several instances
these violations of justice were ascribed rather to eager cupidity and
confidence of impunity than to involuntary error.” In other words, the
legitimate merchant was often put in the same box as though he had been a
pirate or smuggler. A traffic had long sprung up between the British and
Spanish colonies of North and South America, advantageous to both. The
same existed, in a lesser degree, between America and the French West
India Islands. These new auxiliaries of the Custom House now and again
seized indiscriminately and confiscated the ships, American or foreign,
engaged in this trade. Meantime, the Government at home, ill-informed as
it was, learned that there was much discontent in America, and hastened to
repair the damage by passing a special Act of Parliament, declaring the
legitimacy of the commerce between the American colonies and those of
France and Spain. Unfortunately, they at the same time loaded the more
valuable articles with duties which were nearly prohibitive, and must
encourage smuggling.
Then came the passage of the Stamp Act, which was to tax every paper of a
commercial, legal, or social nature, and which was so unpopular that the
merchants of New York directed their correspondents in England to ship no
more goods to them till it should be repealed. The people very generally
agreed to confine their purchases to native productions. “I will wear
nothing but homespun!” exclaimed one angry citizen. “I will drink no
wine,” echoed another, angry that wine must pay a new duty. “I propose,”
cried a third, “that we dress in sheepskins, with the wool on.”(18) To
encourage a woollen manufacture in America, it was recommended to the
colonists to abstain from eating the flesh of lambs, and not a butcher
durst afterwards expose lamb for sale. Its operations were ushered in at
Boston by the tolling of bells; effigies of the authors and abettors were
carried about the streets, and afterwards torn in pieces by the populace.
At Portsmouth, New Hampshire, a funeral procession was organised, and a
coffin bearing the inscription, “LIBERTY, AGED CXLV. YEARS,” was paraded,
amidst the booming of minute guns, and the roll of muffled drums. An
oration was made over a grave prepared for its reception, at the
conclusion of which some remains of life were, it was pretended,
discovered in the body, which was thereupon snatched from the grave. The
inscription was altered to “LIBERTY REVIVED,” and a cheerful and hilarious
procession then marched off with it. In several instances the residences
of the governors, officials, and tax-collectors of States were burned to
the ground, or greatly damaged. So strong was the current of popular will
that the Custom House officers did not, in a large number of cases,
attempt to stamp the clearances of vessels sailing. The law courts
remained open, and ignored the want of stamps on legal documents, and
marriages were consummated simply after putting up the banns, and not by
stamped certificate. The almost total suspension of business with English
shippers and merchants alarmed them greatly, and they were among the first
to petition for its repeal. In Parliament, among many others, Pitt was a
warm friend to the American cause. In answer to a taunting speech from
Grenville, he replied: “We are told that America is obstinate—that America
is almost in open rebellion. _Sir, I rejoice that America has resisted._
Three millions of people so dead to all the feelings of liberty as
voluntarily to submit to be slaves, would have been fit instruments to
make slaves of all the rest.” The Stamp Act was repealed March 19th, 1766,
and in London itself was received with so much joy, that there was a
general illumination, amid the ringing of church bells; and in America it
was hailed with satisfaction, although subsequent action on the part of
the English Government soon obliterated all memory of the concession.
Passing over political complications which led to the American Revolution,
we must allude to the Tea Tax, the resistance to which was as strong as to
any previous measure of our misguided Government. The Government decided
to enforce it, although they were aware of its unpopularity, and the East
India Company, which had the vast stock of 17,000,000 lbs. on hand,
freighted several of their ships to America. Mark the result.(19)
On the 28th November, 1773, the ship _Dartmouth_ appeared in Boston
Harbour with one hundred and fourteen chests of the East India Company’s
tea. To keep the Sabbath strictly was the New England usage. But hours
were precious; let the tea be entered, and it would be beyond the power of
the consignee to send it back. The Select men held one meeting by day, and
another in the evening, but they sought in vain for the consignees, who
had taken sanctuary in the castle.
The Committee of Correspondence was more efficient. They met also on
Sunday; and obtained from the Quaker, Potch, who owned the _Dartmouth_, a
promise not to enter his ship till Tuesday; and authorised Samuel Adams to
invite the Committees of the five surrounding towns, Dorchester, Roxbury,
Brookline, Cambridge, and Charlestown, with their own townsmen and those
of Boston, to hold a mass meeting the next morning. Faneuil Hall could not
contain the people that poured in on Monday. The concourse was the largest
ever known. Adjourning to “The Old South” Meeting House, on the motion of
Samuel Adams, the assembly, composed of five thousand persons, resolved,
unanimously, that “the tea should be sent back to the place from whence it
came at all events, and that no duty should be paid on it.” “The only way
to get rid of it,” said Mr. Young, “is to throw it overboard.” The
consignees asked for time to prepare their answer; and, “out of great
tenderness,” the body postponed proceeding with it till the next morning.
Meantime the owner and master of the ship were _convented_, and forced to
promise not to land the tea. A watch was also proposed. “I,” said Hancock,
“will be one of it, rather than that there should be none;” and a party of
twenty-five persons, under the orders of Edward Proctor as its captain,
was appointed to guard the tea-ship during the night.
The next morning the consignees jointly gave in their answer:—“It is
utterly impossible to send back the teas; but we now declare to you our
readiness to store them, until we shall receive further directions from
our constituents!”—that is, until they could notify the British
Government. The wrath of the meeting was kindling, when the Sheriff of
Suffolk entered with a proclamation from the governor, warning the
assembly to disperse. The notice was received with hisses, derision, and a
unanimous vote not to disperse. In the afternoon Potch, the owner, and
Hall, the master, of the _Dartmouth_, yielding to an irresistible impulse,
engaged that the tea should return as it came, without touching land or
paying duty. A similar promise was exacted of the owners of the other
tea-ships, whose arrival was daily expected. In this way “it was thought
the matter would have ended.” Every shipowner was forbidden, on pain of
being deemed an enemy to the country, to import or bring as freight any
tea from Great Britain, till the unrighteous Act taxing it should be
repealed; and this vote was printed and sent to every seaport in the
Province, and to England. Six persons were chosen as foot-riders, to give
due notice to the country towns of any attempt to land the tea by force;
and the Committee of Correspondence, as the executive organ of the
meeting, took care that a military watch was regularly kept up by
volunteers armed with muskets and bayonets, who at every half-hour in the
night regularly passed the word “All is well!” like sentinels in a
garrison. Had they been molested in the night, the tolling of the bells
would have been the signal for a general uprising.
The ships, after landing the rest of their cargo, could neither be cleared
in Boston with the tea on board, nor be entered in England, and on the
twentieth day from their arrival would be liable to seizure.
The spirit of the people rose with the emergency. Two more tea-ships which
arrived were directed to anchor by the side of the _Dartmouth_, at
Griffin’s Wharf, that one guard might serve for all. In the meantime the
consignees conspired with the Revenue officers to throw on the owner and
master of the _Dartmouth_ the whole burden of landing the tea, and would
neither agree to receive it, nor give up their bill of lading, nor pay the
freight. Every movement was duly reported, and the town became as furious
as in the time of the Stamp Act. On the 9th there was a vast gathering at
Newburyport, of the inhabitants of that and the neighbouring towns, and
they unanimously agreed to assist Boston, even at the hazard of their
lives. “This is not a piece of parade,” they say, “but if an occasion
shall offer, a goodly number from among us will hasten to join you.”
In this state of things it was easily seen by the people of Boston that,
the ships lying so near, the teas would be landed by degrees,
notwithstanding any guard they could keep or measures taken to prevent it;
and it was as well known that if they were landed nothing could prevent
their being sold, and thereby the purpose of establishing the monopoly and
raising a revenue fulfilled.
The morning of Thursday, the 16th of December, 1773, dawned upon Boston, a
day by far the most momentous in its annals. The town of Portsmouth held
its meeting on that morning, and, with six only protesting, its people
adopted the principles of Philadelphia, appointed their Committee of
Correspondence, and resolved to make common cause with the Colonies. At
ten o’clock the people of Boston, with at least two thousand men from the
country, assembled in the Old South. A report was made that Potch (the
owner of the _Dartmouth_) had been refused a clearance from the collector.
“Then,” said they to him, “protest immediately against the Custom House,
and apply to the governor for his pass, so that your vessel may this very
day proceed on her voyage to London.”
The governor had stolen away to his country house at Milton. Bidding Potch
make all haste, the meeting adjourned to three in the afternoon. At that
hour Potch had not returned. It was incidentally voted, as other towns had
already done, to abstain totally from the use of tea. Then, since the
governor might refuse his pass, the momentous question recurred, “Whether
it be the sense and determination of this body to abide by their former
resolutions, with respect to the not suffering the tea to be landed?”
After hearing addresses from Adams, Young, the younger Quincy, and others,
the whole assembly of seven thousand voted unanimously, that the tea
should not be landed.
It had been dark for more than an hour. The church in which they met was
dimly lighted; when, at a quarter before six, Potch appeared, and
satisfied the people by relating that the governor had refused him a pass,
because his ship was not properly cleared. As soon as he had finished his
report, Samuel Adams rose and gave the word: “This meeting can do nothing
more to save the country!” On the instant a shout was heard at the porch;
the war-whoop resounded; a body of men, forty or fifty in number,
disguised as Indians, passed by the door, and, encouraged by Samuel Adams,
Hancock, and others, repaired to Griffin’s Wharf, posted guards to prevent
the intrusion of spies, took possession of the three tea-ships, and in
about three hours three hundred and forty chests of tea, being the whole
quantity that had been imported, were emptied into the bay, without the
least injury to other property. All things were conducted with great
order, decency, and perfect submission to Government. The people around,
as they looked on, were so still that the noise of breaking open the
tea-chests was plainly heard.
[Illustration: DESTRUCTION OF THE TEA CARGOES.]
In Philadelphia, when a tea-ship arrived, the captain fearing the loss of
his cargo, agreed to sail back again the following day.
During the whole period of her controversy with Great Britain, America was
deriving a constant increase of strength, not merely from domestic growth,
but by the immense volume of emigration from Europe. No complete record
remains of its amount, but sufficient facts are known to show how vast it
had become. “Within the first fortnight of August, 1773, there arrived at
Philadelphia 3,500 emigrants from Ireland; and from the same document
which has recorded this circumstance, it appears that vessels were
arriving every month freighted with emigrants from Holland, Germany, and
especially from Ireland and the Highlands of Scotland. About 700 Irish
settlers repaired to the Carolinas in the autumn of 1773; and in the
course of the same season no fewer than ten vessels sailed from Britain
with Scottish Highlanders emigrating to the American States.” Connecticut
in ten years gained 50,000 in population, and when the final rupture
occurred with the mother country, the United States had already reached
the important number of about three and a quarter millions, or say a good
million over the united populations of the Australasian colonies of
to-day, including New Zealand. And it must never be forgotten that of the
new-comers a large proportion were flying from grievances at home to which
they could no longer submit, and that they therefore added to and fanned
the discontent prevailing in America. In view of such facts the action of
the home Government is nearly inexplicable.
When the intelligence of the destruction of the tea reached England,
although it was obvious that the opposition which had been shown was
common to all the colonies, it was determined to make an example of
Boston. “It was reckoned that a partial blow might be dealt to America
with much greater severity than could be prudently exacted in more
extensive punishment; and it was, doubtless, expected that the Americans
in general, without being provoked by personal suffering, would be struck
with terror by the rigour inflicted on a city so long renowned as the
bulwark of their liberties. Without even the decent formality of requiring
the inhabitants of Boston to exculpate themselves, but definitely assuming
their guilt in conformity with the despatches of a governor who was
notoriously at enmity with them, the Ministers introduced into Parliament
a bill for suspending the trade and closing the harbour of Boston during
the pleasure of the king. They declared that the duration of this severity
would depend entirely upon the conduct of the objects of it; for it would
doubtless be relaxed as soon as the people of Boston should make
compensation for the tea that had been destroyed, and otherwise satisfy
the king of their sincere purpose to render due submission to his
Government.” The bill encountered little or no opposition in Parliament, a
few members only contending that milder measures should be tried. It is
impossible to imagine such an occasion to-day. Think of the ports of
Sydney or Melbourne, for example, being closed to all trade and commerce
from outside, and hundreds of vessels prevented from unloading or loading
there, because of irritation prevailing among the Australians, entirely
produced by unwise legislation, and unjust taxation on the part of the
mother country. Yet this is what was done with our American colonies
little more than a hundred years ago.
Mark what followed. On the arrival of the first copy of the Boston Port
Bill a town meeting was convened in that city, and it was recommended,
“That all commercial intercourse whatever with Britain and the West Indies
should be renounced by the American States till the repeal of the Act.” At
Philadelphia a liberal subscription was made for the relief of such of the
poorer inhabitants of Boston whose livelihood had been ruined by this
arbitrary proceeding. The Virginian House of Burgesses appointed the date
on which the operation of the Act was to commence as a day of fasting,
humiliation, and prayer.
On the 1st of June, 1774, the operation of the Boston Port Bill commenced.
All the commercial business of the capital of Massachusetts was concluded
at noon, and the harbour of this flourishing port was closed—till the
gathering storm of the Revolution was to re-open it. “At Williamsburgh, in
Virginia, the day was devoutly consecrated to the religious exercises
which had been recommended by the Assembly. At Philadelphia it was
solemnised by a great majority of the population with every testimonial of
public grief; all the inhabitants, except the Quakers, shut up their
houses; and after divine service a deep and ominous silence reigned
through the city. In other parts of America it was also observed as a day
of mourning; and the sentiments thus widely awakened were kept alive and
exasperated by the distress to which the inhabitants of Boston were
reduced from the continued operation of the Port Bill, and by the
fortitude with which they endured it. The rents of all the land-holders in
and around Boston now ceased, or were greatly diminished; all the wealth
which had been vested in warehouses and wharfs was rendered unproductive;
from the merchants was wrested the commerce which they had reared, and the
means alike of providing for their families and paying their debts; all
the artificers employed in the numerous occupations created by an
extensive trade shared the general hardships; and a great majority of that
class of the community who earned daily bread by their daily labour were
deprived of the means of support.” The sympathy shown by the sister
colonies was highly creditable, and often took the form of substantial
relief. The inhabitants of Marblehead offered to the Boston merchants the
use of their harbours, wharfs, and warehouses, together with their
personal services in lading and unlading goods, free of all expense. The
citizens of Salem (in the same State as Boston) concluded a remonstrance
against the British measures as follows:—“By shutting up the port of
Boston, some imagine that the course of trade might be turned hither, and
to our benefit.... We must be lost to every idea of justice, and dead to
all the feelings of humanity, could we indulge one thought of raising our
fortunes on the ruins of our suffering neighbours.” A country so
thoroughly bound together surely deserved the independence which a couple
of years later it secured.
No better excuse can be urged for England than that her hands were
constantly full at this period. When there was not actual war there were
always rumours of war. Fortunately for our country, in its greatest need
its greatest hero’s star was in the ascendant. How often in these pages
must we recur again and again to the name of Nelson? The year after
America had declared her independence, he was, it is true, but simply a
lieutenant, and scarcely over nineteen years of age. He had already seen
some service. He had been to the West Indies and to the Arctic Ocean,
where, on Captain Phipps’ expedition, occurred one of those little
incidents which indicated a hero in embryo. Young Nelson was one day
missing, and though every search was instantly made for him, it seemed
entirely in vain, and all imagined he was lost. Somebody at length
discovered him at a considerable distance off, on the ice, armed with a
single musket, and fighting away with some object which, on nearer
approach, proved to be an immense bear. Always slight in frame, and
comparatively feeble in body, what was the youngster about? It was found
that the lock of his musket proving useless, he had pursued the animal
with the hope of tiring him, and then intended to knock him on the head.
On his return he was reprimanded for leaving the ship without permission,
and asked why he had been so rash. The young hero replied, “I wished, sir,
to get the skin for my father;” and although there is no record of the
fact, it may well be believed that his little escapade was not very
severely punished. Almost immediately after his return from the frozen
regions, we find him in the East Indies, where his health nearly gave way.
For the second time in Nelson’s career we find him almost abandoning the
sea. “I felt impressed,” wrote he long afterwards, “with an idea that I
should never rise in my profession. My mind was staggered with a view of
the difficulties which I had to surmount, and the little interest I
possessed. I could discover no means of reaching the object of my
ambition. After a long and gloomy reverie, in which I almost wished myself
overboard, a sudden glow of patriotism was kindled within me, and hope
presented my king and country as my patrons. ‘Well then,’ I exclaimed, ‘I
will be a hero, and confiding in Providence, I will brave every danger.’”
From that moment his aspirations became inspirations, and he believed
fully that
“The light which led him on,
Was light from Heaven.”
[Illustration: NELSON AND THE BEAR.]
The young sailor, or he who may become one, may learn very much from the
earlier part of Nelson’s career. Again and again was he disappointed, and
although momentarily irritable, he always ended by looking forward to the
inevitable reward due to the man who places country and duty above all
other considerations. After his services at Bastia and Calvi, where he
lost that eye which afterwards served him so well from its blindness, his
bravery was altogether overlooked in the despatches. “One hundred and ten
days,” said he, “I have been actually engaged at sea and on shore against
the enemy; three actions against ships, two against Bastia in my own ship,
four boat actions, two villages taken, and twelve sail of vessels burnt. I
do not know that any one has done more; I have had the comfort to be
always applauded by my commanders-in-chief, but never to be rewarded; and,
what is more mortifying, for services in which I have been wounded, others
have been praised who, at the time, were actually in bed, far from the
scene of action. They have not done me justice; but never mind—I’ll have a
gazette of my own!”
And what a gazette it was! When, in 1797, Nelson received a special grant
for his services, a memorial had to be drawn up, when it was found that he
had been engaged against the enemy upwards of _one hundred and twenty
times_! During the latest war up to the above date he had assisted at the
capture of seven sail of the line, six frigates, four corvettes, and
eleven privateers; he had taken or destroyed nearly fifty sail of merchant
vessels.
Then followed the great battle of the Nile. The French fleet having been
discovered by Captain Samuel Flood, the action commenced at sunset. The
shores of the Bay of Aboukir were lined with spectators, who beheld the
approach of the English and the terrible conflict which ensued, in silent
and awe-stricken astonishment. A brisk fire was opened by the _Vanguard_,
which ship covered the approach of those in the rear; in a few minutes
every man stationed at the first six guns in her fore part were all down,
killed or wounded. Admiral Nelson was so entirely resolved to conquer, or
to perish in the attempt, that he led into action with six ensigns, red,
white, and blue—he could not bear the idea of his colours being carried
away by a random shot from the enemy.
Nelson—long minus one eye and one arm—in this battle received a severe
wound in his head, the skin of the forehead hanging down over his face.
Captain Berry, who was standing near, caught him in his arms. It was the
opinion of everyone, including the sufferer, that he was shot through the
head. On being carried down in the cockpit, where several of his gallant
crew were stretched with shattered limbs and mangled wounds, the surgeon
immediately came with great anxiety to the admiral. “No,” replied the
hero, “I will take my turn with my brave fellows!” The agony of his wound
increasing, he became convinced that he was dying, and sent for the
chaplain, begging him to remember him to Lady Nelson; he even went so far
as to appoint Hardy post-captain for the _Vanguard_. When the surgeon came
to examine and dress the wound, it clearly appeared that it was not
mortal, and the joyful intelligence spread quickly through the ship. As
soon as the operation was over, Nelson sat down, and that very night wrote
the celebrated official letter which appeared in the _Gazette_. He came on
deck just in time to witness the conflagration of _L’Orient_. So terrible
was the carnage at the battle of the Nile that the Bay of Aboukir was
covered for a week with the floating corpses, and though men were
continually employed to sink them, many of the bodies, having slipped from
the shot, would re-appear on the surface. Alas! the accounts of these
horrible scenes, painful as they are, yet pale before the latest horror in
our own Thames—the loss of the _Princess Alice_, where more perished than
in many a recorded sea-fight of days gone by.
After the battle, the officers vied with each other in sending various
presents to the admiral, to show their delight that he had, though
severely wounded, escaped death. Captain Hallowell, who had long been on
the most intimate terms with Nelson, hit on the extraordinary idea of
having an elegantly-furnished coffin constructed by his carpenter from the
wreck of _L’Orient_, a grim present, which he ordered to be made for the
admiral. It was conveyed on board, and it is stated that Nelson highly
appreciated the present of his brave officer. Nelson kept it for some
months upright in his cabin, till at length an old servant tearfully
entreating him, he allowed it to be carried below. Nelson was now at the
height of glory; never had before, or has since, any admiral received
honours from so many various nations and crowned heads. The following is a
list of presents bestowed on him for his services in the Mediterranean
between October, 1798, and October, 1799:—
From his king and country, a peerage of Great Britain and gold
medal.
From Parliament, for his own life and two next heirs, per annum,
£2,000.
From the Parliament of Ireland, per annum, £1,000.
From the East India Company, £10,000.
From the Turkey Company, a piece of plate of great value; from the
City of London, a magnificent sword.
From the Grand Signor, a diamond aigrette and rich pelisse, valued
at £3,000.
From the Grand Signor’s mother, a rose set with diamonds, valued at
£1,000.
From the Emperor of Russia, a box set with diamonds, valued at
£2,500.
From the King of the Two Sicilies, a sword richly ornamented with
diamonds, valued at £5,000.
From the King of Sardinia, a box set with diamonds, valued at
£1,200.
In addition to these, all accompanied by complimentary addresses or
letters, he received presents from the Island of Zante, the city of
Palermo, and private individuals. Had he not attained a “_Gazette_ of his
own?”
[Illustration: LORD NELSON.]
The battle of Copenhagen made Nelson’s talents, in some respects, even
more conspicuous. The Danes were admirably prepared for defence. Upwards
of a hundred pieces of cannon were mounted on the Crown Batteries at the
entrance of the harbour, while a line of twenty-five two-deckers,
frigates, and floating batteries were moored across its mouth. A Dane who
came on board during the ineffectual negotiations which preceded
hostilities, having occasion to express his proposals in writing, found
the pen thick and blunt, and holding it up, sarcastically said, “If your
guns are not better pointed than your pens, you will make little
impression on Copenhagen.” Nelson himself said that of all the engagements
in which he had borne a part, this was the most terrible. He had with him
twelve ships of the line, besides frigates and smaller craft, the
remainder of the fleet being with Sir Hyde Parker, the Commander-in-chief,
four miles off. Three of his squadron grounded, and, owing to the fears of
the masters and pilots, the anchors were let go nearly a cable’s length
from the enemy, whereas, had they proceeded a little further, they would
have reached deeper water, and the victory would have been effected in
half the time. The fight, which commenced at ten o’clock in the morning,
was by no means decided at one in the afternoon, when Sir Hyde Parker
signalled for the action to cease. It was reported to Nelson, who took no
notice of it. The signal-lieutenant meeting him at the next turn, asked
him if he should repeat it. “No,” answered Nelson, “acknowledge it.”
Shortly afterwards he called after him to know if the signal for close
action was still hoisted, and being answered in the affirmative, said,
“Mind you keep it so.” He now rapidly paced the deck, moving the stump of
his right arm in a manner which always denoted great agitation; for the
Commander-in-chief still signalled “leave off action.” At last, turning to
the captain, he said, “You know, Foley, I’ve only one eye, and I have a
right to be blind sometimes,” and he ordered his signal for closer battle
to be nailed to the mast. Admiral Graves disobeyed the Commander-in-chief
in similar manner, but the squadron of frigates moved off. About two
o’clock great part of the Danish line had ceased to fire, some of their
lighter ships were adrift, and some had struck. It was, however, difficult
to take possession of them, as they were protected by the batteries of an
island, and they themselves fired on the English boats as they approached.
This irritated Nelson: “We must either,” he said, “send on shore and stop
these irregular proceedings, or send in fire-ships and burn the prizes.”
In this part of the battle the victory was complete, but the three ships
ahead were still engaged, and considerably exposed. Nelson, with his usual
presence of mind, seized the occasion to open a negotiation, and wrote to
the Crown Prince as follows: “Vice-Admiral Lord Nelson has directions to
spare Denmark when she no longer resists. The line of defence which
covered her shores has struck to the British flag; but if the firing is
continued on the part of Denmark, he must be obliged to set on fire all
the prizes that he has taken, without having the power of saving the brave
Danes who have defended them.” Captain Frederick Thesiger was sent in with
it. During his absence the remainder of the enemy’s line eastward was
silenced; the Crown Batteries continued to fire, till the Danish General
Lindholm returned with a flag of truce, when the action closed. His
message from the prince was to inquire what was the object of Nelson’s
note? Nelson replied that “it was humanity; he consented that the wounded
Danes should be taken on shore, and that he on his part would take his
prisoners out of the vessels and burn or carry off his prizes as he
thought fit. He presented his humblest duty to the prince, saying that he
should consider this the greatest victory he ever gained if it might be
the cause of a happy reconciliation between the two countries.” This
proposal was accepted in the course of the evening, and a suspension of
hostilities for twenty-four hours agreed upon, during which it was
resolved that Nelson should land and negotiate in person with the prince.
[Illustration: NELSON AT COPENHAGEN.]
Accordingly next morning he landed, being protected by a strong guard from
the possible vengeance of the Danish population. “The battle so dreadfully
destructive to the Danes was in sight of the city; the whole of the
succeeding day was employed in landing the wounded, and there was scarcely
a house without its cause for mourning. It was no new thing for Nelson to
show himself regardless of danger, and it is to the honour of Denmark that
the populace suffered themselves to be restrained. Some difficulty
occurred in adjusting the duration of the armistice. He required sixteen
weeks, giving, like a seaman, the true reason, that he might have time to
act against the Russian fleet and return. This not being acceded to, a
hint was thrown out by one of the Danish commissioners of the renewal of
hostilities. ‘Renew hostilities!’ said he to the interpreter, ‘tell him we
are ready at a moment; ready to bombard this very night!’ Fourteen weeks
were at length agreed upon; the death of the Emperor Paul intervened, and
the Northern Confederacy was destroyed. Nelson was raised to the rank of
viscount, and, indeed, had not the Government dealt out honours to him
slowly and by degrees, their stock would long ere that have been
exhausted.” The grand sea battle in which he saved his country and lost
his life has been already described in these pages.