THE MEDITERRANEAN AND ITALY.—FROM THE EVACUATION OF TOULON IN 1793 TO
THE BRITISH WITHDRAWAL FROM THAT SEA, IN 1796, AND THE BATTLE OF CAPE
ST. VINCENT, FEBRUARY, 1797.—AUSTRIA FORCED TO MAKE PEACE.
After the evacuation of Toulon, on the 19th of December, 1793, Lord
Hood had taken his fleet to Hyères Roads,—an anchorage formed by the
group of islands of the same name a few miles east of Toulon. There he
remained during the greater part of January, revictualling his ships
and considering what steps should next be taken to assure British
interests in the Mediterranean.
It is essential to a fleet, as to an army, to have always near at hand
depots of supplies, upon which it can depend to replace the consumption
of the limited stores carried on board, and to which it can resort for
refit. The way from the depots to the fleet, or the army, technically
called the communications, should be such as can most easily be
defended by the armed force itself, without impairing its liberty in
movements necessary to obtain the objects of the war. In other words,
this depot, or base, should be near the scene of operations and, when
practicable, so situated that the fleet, while actively engaged,
interposes directly or indirectly between it and the enemy. Nearness
was doubly important in the days of sailing ships, whose movements
depended upon the fickle element of the wind; for then a ship going in
for refit not only took more time to perform the voyage, but also in
returning made a heavier draft upon her resources, and consequently
could remain a shorter period at the seat of war.
Toulon, while securely held, served as such a base; although, being
exposed to overpowering attack from the land side, its situation called
for excessive expenditure of effort. Toulon was, however, now lost, and
the British were thrown back upon Gibraltar, at the very entrance of
the Mediterranean, and nine hundred miles from the seat of hostilities,
for a secure depot in which to land stores and a safe anchorage for
transports and crippled ships-of-war.
Although the possession of a strong place, suited in itself for a
base, may decide the character of operations projected, logically
the necessary operations should first be determined, and the choice
of the base be decided by them. In the Mediterranean, as elsewhere
generally at this time, the policy of Great Britain was to control
the sea for the protection of commerce, and to sustain on shore the
continental powers in the war against France,—chiefly by money, but
also by naval co-operation when feasible. To support the land warfare,
her diplomatic negotiations strove to unite, in the general military
effort, as many as possible of the small independent states into which
Italy was divided, to promote among them unity of action, and to foster
the sense of security, in taking a decided step against France, which
they could only derive from the presence among them of a strong power,
such as Great Britain showed in her fleet. Neither their traditions
nor the character of their rulers enabled them to combine strongly
as equals; nor, as has before been said, was there any one state so
predominant as to give a nucleus around which the others could gather.
The only possible centre was Great Britain, present as a power in her
fleet. Moreover, if unable, as she proved, to stir them up to positive,
harmonious, concerted action, it was her interest to impose upon
them a benevolent neutrality towards herself and her allies, and to
deter them from inimical measures into which they might otherwise be
impelled by the demands of the republic and their fear of the French
army. Friendly ports along the whole coast were essential for the
security of her shipping and the promotion of her commerce. Finally,
it must be added that the character of the shore between Nice and
Genoa, interposing between the French and Austrian armies, particularly
favored direct naval co-operation. The Maritime Alps and the Apennines,
coming down close to the sea, left but a single narrow, and yet long,
line of communications along the beach, traversed by a very bad road,
in many parts under fire from the sea.[105] This condition made the
armies using that line chiefly dependent for supplies upon coasters,
whose movements ships-of-war could harass and impede,—though not, when
sailing vessels, entirely stop.
Corsica, in its existing political conditions of revolt against
France under the leadership of Paoli, appeared to offer the strategic
situation which Hood was seeking. It was near and centrally placed with
reference to the probable operations on shore; San Fiorenzo Bay, which
became the chief anchorage for the fleet, being equidistant, about
one hundred miles, from Nice and from Genoa. Leghorn also, one of the
greatest depots of British trade in the Mediterranean and the seaport
of Tuscany, over which Great Britain wished to enforce her influence,
was but sixty miles from Cape Corso at the northern extremity of the
island. All the trade with northern Italy had to pass close to Corsica,
and was consequently exposed to capture if the seaports remained
in French hands; especially as calms prevail around the island,
facilitating the operations of row-galleys and neutralizing the powers
of a sailing navy. Being an island, Corsica depended upon the control
of the sea; and, though its size and rugged surface precluded conquest,
there was believed to be a disposition to accept the protection of
Great Britain as the only means of dispossessing the French troops,
who still held the seaports of San Fiorenzo, Bastia, and Calvi.
Sir Gilbert Elliott, who had been the Civil Commissioner of Great
Britain in Toulon during the last month of its occupation, left
Hyères Bay early in January to confer with Paoli, who had proposed
the annexation of the island to the British crown. His enthusiastic
reception by the people and the assurances of the Corsican chieftain
convinced him that the measure was sincerely desired; and in
consequence of his representations, Hood, on the 24th of January,
sailed from Hyères with his whole fleet for San Fiorenzo Bay. The
weather proving very tempestuous, and the three-decked ships, of which
there were several, being ill-fitted to contend with it, the admiral
was forced to take them to Porto Ferrajo in Elba, and to send against
San Fiorenzo a detachment only. This appeared off the place on the 7th
of February; and after a series of combined operations, in which the
navy bore a very conspicuous share on land, the French evacuated the
town and works on the 19th of the month, retreating upon Bastia. The
admiral then urged an attack upon Bastia; but the general thought he
could not spare enough men. Nelson, who had been blockading there for
some time, strongly represented the feasibility of the enterprise; and,
after a sharp altercation between the two commanders-in-chief, Hood
determined to undertake the siege with the navy and the troops who were
serving on board as marines. The landing began on the 3d of April; but
the place held out till the 21st of May, when it capitulated. Calvi
was next taken in hand, the operations beginning on the 19th of June,
and ending with its surrender on the 10th of August. The whole island
was thus freed from the presence of French troops,—a result due almost
wholly to the navy, although the army bore a share in the operations
at San Fiorenzo and Calvi. To the determination of Hood and the ardent
representations of Nelson was due that Bastia was besieged at all;
and, as thirty-five hundred regular troops then surrendered to an
outside force of fourteen hundred seamen and marines, the opinion of
Sir Gilbert Elliott that "the blockade of the port was the chief means
of reducing it," can scarcely be disputed. At the siege of Calvi Nelson
lost his right eye.
Between the siege of Bastia and that of Calvi, the General Assembly
of Corsica met, and on the 19th of June, 1794, tendered the insular
crown to the king of Great Britain. With the successful issue of the
military operations, this political act consummated the possession of
the island. But, to quote the words of Elliott, the claim to Corsica
rested upon superior force,[106] and by that only could be asserted;
and this superior force the British government failed to provide. The
love of the people for Paoli, and the period of anxiety through which
he and they had passed, caused the connection to be eagerly desired,
and accepted with demonstrations of the warmest delight; but as
security succeeded the sense of danger, the first-love between nations
so radically distinct in temperament and institutions was followed by
the symptoms attending ill-assorted unions. Still, with prompt action
and strong garrisons, the benefit of the foreign occupation might have
been manifest, dissatisfaction might have yielded to considerations of
interest, and the island been retained. The British government acted
slowly. Elliott had urged that authority should be sent him beforehand
to take over the executive functions at once, as soon as the Act of
Union passed; instead of which, Paoli was left for four months in his
old position, and developed a jealousy of his destined successor not
unprecedented in the heads of states. This feeling, which he held
with Corsican intensity, communicated itself to his followers; and an
inauspicious division of sentiment already existed when, in October,
after an interval of four months, Elliott received his powers as
viceroy. Paoli continued for a year longer to reside in Corsica, and up
to the time of his departure was a cause of trouble to the viceroy, and
so of strength to the partisans of France, who became numerous.
During the year 1794 the superior importance of the operations on
the frontiers of Belgium and Germany, as well as in Spain, caused
the French armies of Italy and the Alps to remain quiet, after some
early successes which had placed in their hands the chief passes of
the mountains and advanced their line on the coast as far as Vado, on
the borders of Genoese territory. Early in 1795 a force of eighteen
thousand men was detached to Toulon for the invasion of Corsica;
but, although the French had in the port fifteen ships-of-the-line,
they felt that neither the admiral nor the officers possessed the
tactical skill necessary to handle the fleet in presence of an enemy
of nearly equal force, if encumbered with a large body of transports.
The case reproduced that of Conflans, when expected in 1759 to cover
the French invasion of England. As a rule, in combined military and
naval expeditions the fleet and the army should start together; but
the tactical embarrassment of transports is indisputable. If the fleet
cannot encounter the enemy successfully when not so hampered, it but
encourages disaster to incur the meeting with them in company. Not
improperly, in such a case of doubt, it was decided that the Toulon
fleet should sail alone; and, accordingly, on the 2d of March, 1795,
Admiral Martin put to sea with fifteen of the line, seven frigates, and
five smaller vessels. Despite these respectable numbers, the efficiency
of the force was poor. Out of twelve thousand officers and men on board
the ships-of-the-line, seventy-five hundred had never before been to
sea; and Martin reported that, deducting officers and petty-officers,
he had but twenty-seven hundred seamen to man the fleet.[107]
Hood had gone home the previous November, expecting to return; and
the British were now commanded by Admiral Hotham. The latter had
cruised off Toulon for three weeks in mid-winter, on account of the
indications of the French coming out, and after a succession of most
violent weather returned to San Fiorenzo Bay on the 10th of January. He
sailed again, apparently about the 22d of the month, to cover a convoy
expected from England, leaving in port the "Berwick," seventy-four;
which, through the carelessness of her officers, had been permitted to
roll her masts overboard at her anchors. After some more hard cruising,
the fleet put into Leghorn on the 25th of February, leaving still in
San Fiorenzo Bay the "Berwick," the delay in whose repairs can only
be attributed to the penury of naval resources. The presence of the
fleet in Leghorn was probably necessary both for its own supplies and
to remind the wavering Tuscany of the power of Great Britain at her
doors; but the "Berwick" incident served powerfully to illustrate the
far-reaching effects of individual carelessness and the impolicy of
exposing small detachments not covered, directly or indirectly, by
the main body. On the 7th of March the French fleet came in sight of
Cape Corso, and almost at the same moment discovered the "Berwick,"
which had only the previous day succeeded in leaving San Fiorenzo for
Leghorn. Being still crippled, she was easily overtaken, and forced to
surrender at noon.
The following day Hotham in Leghorn learned that the enemy had sailed,
and the next morning at dawn put to sea in pursuit. On the 11th the
two fleets came in sight of each other, the French far south and to
windward of the British, out of gun-shot, and thus continued during
the 12th. That night one of the French seventy-fours lost a topmast
and parted company, reducing their numbers to fourteen. The following
morning the "Ça-Ira," an eighty-gun ship, ran into her next ahead,
losing both fore and main topmasts, and thus became the source of
anxiety and danger which a crippled ship ever is in the fleet to which
she belongs. As she dropped out of the line, a British frigate ran
close to her on the side encumbered with the fallen spars, annoying her
there for some time with comparative impunity, and was then succeeded
by Nelson in the "Agamemnon," who hung about on her quarters until
several ships bore down to her relief.
During the night the "Sans Culottes," of one hundred and twenty guns,
the heaviest vessel in the French fleet, dropped out of the line to
leeward, and in the morning was out of sight. The "Ça-Ira" was taken
in tow by, the "Censeur," seventy-four, and at daybreak these two
were some distance from, and to the north-east of, their fleet. Both
parties were at this time much scattered from the irregularities of
the wind; but it shifting now to the north-west favored the British,
and those nearest the separated ships speedily brought them to action.
While this partial engagement was going on, both fleets shaped their
course for the scene, the French intending to cover the "Censeur"
and "Ça-Ira" by passing between them and the British, but owing to
some misunderstanding this was not done. As the two vans went slowly
by on opposite tacks, a sharp exchange of shots took place, in which
the British, not being well closed up, were overmatched, and two of
their number suffered severely; but as the French allowed the enemy
to interpose between them and the disabled vessels, these were forced
to surrender after a very gallant resistance, in which they lost four
hundred men and were partially dismasted. Each fleet continuing its
course in opposite directions, they soon separated and passed out of
sight.
The baffling character of the wind, combined with the indifferent
sailing qualities of the British three-deckers, deprive this action of
any special tactical significance; and the very mediocre calibre of
the two admirals was not calculated to overcome the difficulties they
encountered. The numerous accidents in Martin's fleet, and the parting
of the "Sans Culottes" at such a moment, show the indifferent character
of the French captains, and probably justify the comment that Hotham
owed his success to the initiative of the admirable officers under
his command rather than to his own capacity. "I went on board Admiral
Hotham," wrote Nelson, "as soon as our firing grew slack in the van and
the 'Ça-Ira' and 'Censeur' had struck, to propose to him leaving our
two crippled ships, the two prizes, and four frigates, and pursue the
enemy; but he, much cooler than myself, said, 'We must be contented, we
have done very well.' Admiral Goodall backed me; I got him to write to
the Admiral, but it would not do; we should have had such a day as I
believe the annals of England never produced."[108] "Admiral Hotham,"
says Chevalier,[109] "showed great circumspection. He probably did not
appreciate the improvised fleets of the republic. To fight, there are
needed ships in good condition, capable seamen, skilful gunners, and
officers accustomed to order, to military dispositions, and to squadron
manœuvres. These we did not have." "The enemy," wrote Nelson about the
same fleet, a few months later, "are neither seamen nor officers."[110]
The immediate consequence of this defeat was the abandonment of the
projected expedition against Corsica.
After the battle a gale of wind forced the British into Spezia and
caused the wreck of the "Illustrious," seventy-four, which, from
injuries received in the action, was not able to keep off shore.
This, with the capture of the "Berwick," equalized the losses of
the two fleets. The French anchored in Hyères Bay, where they were
rejoined by the "Sans Culottes," and on the 24th of March returned to
Toulon. Admiral Renaudin's arrival from Brest[111] on the 4th of April
raised the available force to nineteen or twenty ships-of-the-line;
to which the enemy could now oppose only thirteen of their own and
two Neapolitan. But, although the British were very destitute of
material for necessary equipment and repair,[112] the superiority
of organization, discipline, and officer-like training, allowed
them little real cause for anxiety. In the month of May a Jacobin
outbreak occurred in Toulon. The government had ordered Martin to take
advantage of Renaudin's junction, and again to seek the enemy while
thus superior. The mob raised the cry that as soon as the fleet sailed
the enemies of the Revolution would enter the town and massacre the
patriots. The seamen, except those belonging to the Brest squadron,
left their vessels, under pretext of deliberating on the dangers of
their country, and took part in all the street demonstrations. An
expedition was even set on foot against Marseille; but the central
government was getting stronger, or rather anarchy was becoming
wearisome, and after a paltry engagement the Toulonese fell back upon
their city and submitted. A great number of seamen, however, had
deserted; and the necessity of recovering them delayed the departure of
the fleet, which finally put to sea on the 7th of June with seventeen
ships-of-the-line. The time for a favorable sortie was, however, past;
the British having at last received a large re-enforcement.
After partially refitting in Spezia, Hotham took his fleet to San
Fiorenzo, arriving there on the 30th of March. On the 17th of April
he sailed again for Minorca, where he hoped to meet a re-enforcement
and a much-needed convoy; but a succession of westerly winds caused
the fleet to lose ground, instead of gaining, until the 27th, when
it unexpectedly and most fortunately met a body of store-ships from
Gibraltar. With these the admiral at once bore up for Leghorn, arriving
there next day. Had the French in their own dockyards refitted as
rapidly as the British did in a foreign port, and gone to sea with
the increase of strength that Renaudin brought, they should have
intercepted this important convoy, if they did not bring the fleet to
action. The correspondence of Nelson, still a simple captain, testifies
continually, in his own vivid style, to the critical state of the
campaign at this moment.
On the 8th of May Hotham sailed again for Minorca, and continued to
cruise off that island until the 14th of June, when Rear-admiral
Robert Mann joined him with a re-enforcement from England of nine[113]
ships-of-the-line, making the British superior in number as in quality
to the enemy. As a convoy was also expected, the fleet kept the same
station until it arrived on the 22d, when the whole body sailed for
San Fiorenzo, anchoring there June 29. On the 4th of July Hotham sent
Nelson with his own ship and some smaller vessels to co-operate on the
Riviera of Genoa with the Austrian advance against the French; but
the detachment fell in with Martin's fleet, and had to return to San
Fiorenzo, being, says Nelson, "hard pressed" by the enemy, who pursued
until they saw the British fleet at anchor. The latter weighed as soon
as possible, but did not come up with the French until the 14th, near
the Hyères Islands, where a trifling brush took place, resulting in
the capture of the "Alcide," seventy-four, which immediately after
surrendering caught fire and blew up. This small affair was the last in
which Admiral Hotham was directly concerned. Hood had been definitively
relieved of the Mediterranean command before he could sail from England
on his return; and Hotham, weary of a burden to which he felt himself
unfitted and had proved himself unequal, applied for relief, and struck
his flag on the 1st of November, 1795.
Prior to the naval brush off Hyères, little had been done in Italy by
the armies on either side. The French, whose forces were far inferior
to those of the allies and in a state of great destitution, were
compelled to stand on the defensive over a very long line, of which
the advanced post on the sea was at Vado. The Austrians had imposed
upon the Sardinians their own plan of campaign, which was to strike the
extreme right of the French at Vado, and then drive them back along
the Corniche, while the Sardinians attacked on the other flank through
the passes of the Apennines up to the Col di Tende, where the Maritime
Alps begin. The British fleet was to co-operate with the movement
on the side of the sea,—a consideration which had much to do with
determining the Austrian plan. By occupying Vado and the Riviera east
of it, the coasting trade heretofore carried on from the ports of Genoa
and Tuscany to southern France would be stopped; a matter of great
consequence to the republic, as those departments only raised grain for
three months' consumption and depended for the rest upon that which
came from Barbary and Italy by way of Tuscany. With a British squadron
at Vado, the populace of Provence, the navy at Toulon, and the army of
Italy, would have to be supplied from the north of France by bad inland
roads.[114] Vado Bay was, moreover, the best anchorage between Nice and
Genoa. Devins, the Austrian general, began his movement on the 13th of
June, passing through Genoese territory against the protest of that
neutral government. The French resisted sturdily; but the odds were too
great, and by the end of June they had fallen back to a line extending
from Borghetto on the sea to Ormea in the mountains, abandoning Vado
and the intermediate coast towns. Devins now called on Hotham for naval
support, and the British admiral detached Nelson, as has already been
seen, to give it; but the encounter with the French fleet delaying his
arrival for some days served Devins with a pretext for inaction. He
employed the mean time in fortifying his position and improving the
roads in his rear.
[Illustration: Northern Italy and Corsica.]
On the 17th of July Nelson reached Genoa, took on board the British
minister to that republic, and went to Vado, anchoring there on the
21st. He immediately conferred with Devins, who gave it as his opinion
that the Austrians could not advance further until the French were
compelled to retire by want of provisions,—a result he expected from
the action of the navy. Nelson explained to the minister that the food
supplies being carried in neutral vessels he was powerless to stop
them; for he had stringent orders from the admiralty that no legal
measures should be instituted against such, when arrested, until full
particulars in each case had been sent to England and instructions
had come back what to do. Meanwhile the cargoes, being perishable,
would be spoiled. Such utterly inconsequent proceedings, though
highly characteristic of the military action of cabinets, were most
exasperating to a man of Nelson's temper, always prone to cut knots;
but, as he was pecuniarily answerable and a poor man, he could not
disregard them on his sole authority. The British ministers to Genoa
and Sardinia both concurred in advising him to carry out Devins's
wishes; and then Nelson, with the fearlessness of responsibility he
always showed,—and sometimes out of, as well as in, season,—issued
orders to his frigates to take every vessel bound to France or to ports
within the French lines, to whatsoever nation it might belong. At the
same time the general also sent out small cruisers; and it is roundly
asserted by Jomini that he laid a tax on all coasting vessels brought
in by them, forcing them to pay for a passport and appropriating the
proceeds to himself. The utmost diligence, however, could not insure
the interruption of a traffic carried on by very small vessels, having
to make but short night runs close along a coast;[115] and Nelson's
orders, while doubtless productive of some results in stopping large
vessels from Tuscany and Algiers, could not prevent supplies getting
in by Genoese coasters. The difficulty was increased by the fact that a
number of the ports in rear of the French positions belonged to Genoa,
and the inhabitants depended upon her for food. To turn a deaf ear to
their cries of suffering, and to prevent supplies landed there being
used by the French, were alike impossible.
These considerations should have led Devins to regard naval
co-operation simply as the efforts of a light force, competent to
harass, not to destroy, the enemy's communications; and should have
induced him to force his own way, by early and vigorous action, while
the French were inferior in numbers and before their positions became
too strong. Instead of this, he used the Sardinians and British,
not as allies, but as excuses for not moving; action of one kind or
another on their part was necessary before he could advance. Thus the
summer slipped away, the French busily strengthening their lines and
bringing up the army of the Pyrenees to re-enforce that of Italy,
after peace was made with Spain. Nelson was full of projects to embark
a corps of Austrians, who should seize and occupy a coast position
in rear of the French; but Devins only played with a proposition of
which Jomini speaks with scant respect, and which was certainly open
to the objection that, if carried out with adequate force, it divided
the Austrian army. Nelson, it is true, guaranteed its retreat to his
ships in case of need; but the Austrian, not unnaturally, preferred
a less uncertain line. The British captain, who had at first felt
respect for Devins's abilities, wrote on the 17th of September that it
had for some time appeared to him "that the general intended to go no
further than his present position, and meant to lay the miscarriage
of his enterprise against Nice to the non-co-operation of the British
fleet and the Sardinian army."[116] Whatever his purpose, Devins did
not advance, but quietly awaited the French attack. Early in November
a severe illness caused him to give up the command; and on the 23d
of the month the enemy, under General Schérer, assaulted vigorously
the centre of the allied position, where the Sardinians touched the
Austrians. This point had always been weak, and after a short struggle
was forced. The original intention of Schérer had been to turn, after
piercing the centre, against the Sardinians, as Bonaparte did in the
following year; but a very heavy fall of snow in the mountains decided
him to swing round to the right, drive the Austrians back upon the
coast, and, if possible, anticipate them upon their line of retreat to
the eastward. In this he was not entirely successful; but the imminent
danger forced the enemy to abandon all their line of works and fall
back precipitately, with a loss of seven thousand men, killed, wounded
and prisoners, besides their depots at Loano, Vado, and Savona. This
action, which was a brilliant and decisive victory, is known as the
battle of Loano. By the first of December the Austrians had recrossed
the Apennines and were again in the positions from which they had set
out the previous June.
The military plan and execution of the campaign by the land forces
scarcely falls within the scope of the present work. An advance by the
armies of a coalition, whose respective troops and lines of operation
are separated by a chain of mountains, even of the height of the
Apennines, with difficult communication across them, does not present
a combination promising mutual support and probable success. To this
disadvantage is to be added that of the long and narrow line by which
all the Austrian supplies had to be forwarded; and which any successful
advance would make yet longer and more difficult. On the other hand,
the Austrians counted much upon the help that could be extended by
the navy of Great Britain, in whose interest the occupation of the
shore line was undertaken.[117] By their advance they controlled Vado
Bay,—the best anchorage between Villefranche (Nice) and Genoa; and
their presence imposed a restraint upon the latter republic, whose
attitude was largely determined by the comparative forces of the
belligerents. Did then the British navy, under these circumstances, do
all that it could have done to insure the success of the common cause?
The answer can scarcely be yes. Nelson, indeed, exerted himself with
the energy that never failed him; but his correspondence shows that he
did not think the force assigned him equal to its task. Could it then
have been increased? The answer again is scarcely doubtful. The British
fleet of the line was slightly superior in numbers to the French at
Toulon, and far superior in the quality of its officers and men. It
was doubtless embarrassed by numerous duties,—by those conflicting
interests whose divergence imposes the great test of capacity upon a
general officer. The French fleet at Toulon, co-operation with the
Austrian advance, the protection of trade, the covering of Corsica, the
political interests involved in controlling the action of the small
Italian states,—all these cares fell upon the British admiral. Of
these, the French fleet was the most important; but all other interests
of Britain and her allies were better served by co-operation with the
Austrian advance,—by victory in the field,—than by any dissemination
of force for other purposes. A decisive Imperial success would have
determined the policy of every state in the western Mediterranean and
closed every port to French cruisers.
In short, offensive action, and not the merely defensive attitude
maintained through the campaign, was here clearly indicated. Nelson
intimates that the only course by which the navy could practically
intercept the French communications was to enter the coasting ports
and destroy the coasters. These little vessels defied detection on
their voyages; only by chasing them into their nests could their
wings be clipped. "A few days ago," he writes, "I scoured the coast
between Monaco and Borghetto so completely, that although I was only
able to take one ship loaded with corn, yet I forced the others into
the Bay of Alassio, where they are so completely under the protection
of formidable batteries _that not less than three sail-of-the-line_
could attempt to take or destroy them. The number of vessels loaded
and unloaded at those places is near one hundred, the greater part
loaded with stores and corn for France."[118] Here was the strategic
direction to be given to the British navy, after providing for the
watch off Toulon. "You will now," wrote Nelson five years later to
Lord Keith, "bear me out in my assertion, when I say that the British
fleet could have prevented the invasion of Italy; and if our friend
Hotham had kept his fleet on that coast, I assert, and you will agree
with me, no army from France could have been furnished with stores or
provisions; even men could not have marched."[119] If the fleet proved
unequal to this task, final condemnation was passed on the allied plan
of campaign, which was not in its conception characterized by sound
military judgment. But Admiral Hotham, as Nelson said, had "no head
for enterprise, perfectly satisfied that each month passes without
any losses on our side."[120] Nelson never had under his orders any
other ship-of-the-line than his own "Agamemnon;" and at the time of
the decisive battle of Loano all his little squadron had been taken
away except two, so that French gunboats harassed with impunity the
left flank of the Austrians.[121] He himself at that critical moment
had to remain in Genoa with the "Agamemnon," at the request of the
Imperial minister, to prevent the crew of a French frigate then in
port, supported as it would have been by French partisans, from
seizing Voltri,—an important point upon the line of retreat of the
Austrians, where a few resolute men could have stopped them until
the pursuing army came up. To him alone was therefore attributed
the escape of several thousand Imperial soldiers, among whom was
the commander-in-chief himself.[122] Prior to the battle Genoa had
permitted French intrigues and armed enterprises of this character to
be concerted, almost openly, in her territories. This she would not
have dared to do, had the British navy been present in force on the
coast, acting under such a commander as Nelson; for the probabilities
of final success would have been with the allies. In short, this
campaign of the British fleet contributes another to the numerous
lessons of history, upon the importance of having sufficient force
at the decisive point and taking the offensive. It may be added that
Hotham could better have spared ships to Nelson, if he had not thrown
away his two opportunities of beating the Toulon fleet.
While Nelson was co-operating with the Austrians as far as his force
admitted, the British fleet was generally cruising off Toulon,
returning from time to time to San Fiorenzo or Leghorn for refit and
stores. It was in this latter part of the year 1795 that the Directory,
as will be remembered, decided to abandon the policy of fleet-fighting
and to enter upon that of commerce-destroying, directed against
exposed colonies of the enemy as well as against his trade afloat. Two
squadrons, numbering in all seven ships-of-the-line and eight smaller
vessels, were ordered fitted out at Toulon, which was with difficulty
done for want of seamen. Since the action of July off Hyères, nearly
all the sailors in Martin's fleet had deserted, disgusted with the
bad food, scanty clothing, and constant disaster that were their
portion. Enough, however, were at last gathered to man the ships
selected; and on the 14th of September six of the line and three
frigates got away under the command of Captain Richery. It does not
appear whether the British fleet was then at sea or at San Fiorenzo;
but in either case it was at this port, and not until September 22d,
that Hotham learned their escape. On the 5th of October this leisurely
commander-in-chief sent Admiral Mann with six of the line in pursuit;
but the French, having so great a start, could not be overtaken. They
passed the Straits of Gibraltar early in October, bound to the British
possessions in North America. On the 7th of the month, when a hundred
and fifty miles west of Gibraltar, they fell in with an enemy's convoy
of thirty-one merchant ships from the Levant, under the protection of
three seventy-fours. Richery succeeded in capturing one of the latter,
which had lost a topmast, and all the merchant ships except one. Having
so valuable a booty, he decided to escort it into Cadiz, where he
anchored on the 13th and was soon after found by Mann, whose arrival
prevented his departure to fulfil his original mission. At about the
same time some French frigates in the Atlantic took eighteen ships out
of a Jamaica convoy. The other Toulon division, of one ship-of-the-line
and six smaller vessels, cruised in the Levant; and, having made a
number of prizes, returned safely to Toulon. Its commander, Captain
Ganteaume, though undistinguished by any great achievements, was
throughout his career remarkably fortunate in escaping the search of an
enemy. It was he who commanded the flotilla on board which Bonaparte
stole unseen through all the British cruisers, on his return from Egypt
to France in 1799.
These results, coinciding so closely with the adoption of the new
policy of commerce-destroying, confirmed the government in favor of
this course, to which the French have always been strongly disposed.
They hoped from it, to use the words of a representative in the
Convention, "to force the English to a shameful bankruptcy;" what they
obtained was the demoralization of their navy, the loss of the control
of the sea and of their own external commerce, finally Napoleon's
Continental System and the fall of the Empire.
The battle of Loano, decisive of the campaign of 1795, is yet more
distinguished as marking the entrance upon the scene of two of the most
remarkable figures in the war of the French Revolution. During the week
after it was fought, Admiral Sir John Jervis, better known by his later
title of Earl St. Vincent, arrived at San Fiorenzo, as the regular
successor to Hood in the Mediterranean. During the winter Napoleon
Bonaparte was chosen by the Directory to relieve Schérer in command of
the Army of Italy.
The career and character of the youthful republican general are too
well known, have been too often described, to be attempted by the
author, from whose immediate theme, moreover, they stand apart. The
personality of the already aged admiral, whose iron hands stamped
his own image on the British navy and fashioned it into the splendid
instrument with which the triumphs of Nelson were won, is, on the
contrary, familiar to few except the students of naval history.
Born in 1734, Sir John Jervis, when he assumed command of the
Mediterranean fleet in his sixty-second year, had had no opportunity of
distinguishing himself in the eyes of the world outside of the service
to which he belonged. With the members of that service, however, he
had long been a marked man. The child of a poor though well-born
family, he had in early life, under the pressure of poverty, required
of himself the same stern discipline and submission to the duty of
the moment which he afterwards so rigorously exacted of others. Grave
and unbending in his official relations, immovable as a rock when his
determination was once formed, unrelenting almost to mercilessness in
suppressing insubordination, then rife throughout the British navy,
he had the high-bred polish of a man used to good society, and his
demeanor was courteous, and, when occasion demanded, even courtly. A
traveller by land as well as by sea, a constant and judicious reader,
in a period when such habits were rarer than now among seamen, he
was well informed in matters other than those relating merely to his
profession. Of the latter, however, he was a master. His ship was the
model of the British fleet during the American Revolution, and his
high reputation drew to her quarter-deck youths from the best families
of England, when they could obtain interest to get there. Yet no man
was ever less swayed, in an age when social and political influence
counted for so much, by any extrinsic claims of that character.
Personal merit first, after that a family claim upon the navy, that a
father or brother had given his life for the service,—nay, the very
friendlessness of a deserving man,—such were the considerations that
determined him in the use of patronage at his own disposal.
Yet, with all these strong attributes, capable too of a tenderness
which could mourn long and deeply the loss of a valued comrade, the
rule of Jervis was one of fear rather than love. It is impossible to
criticise adversely measures whose extreme severity was justified, if
not imperatively demanded, by the appalling crisis of the mutinies of
1797; impossible to withhold admiration, not unmingled with awe, from
the impressive figure of the chief who stood unmoved and unyielding
amid the smothered discontent, revolt threatening from below, the
enemy's coast in sight from the deck, knowing that in every other fleet
the crews had taken the ships from their officers, but determined it
should not be so in the Mediterranean. Yet admiration is qualified by
the feeling that to the ruthless temper of the man the position was not
wholly displeasing,—that he was in his natural element when crushing
opposition. A captain, who with great personal courage had quelled a
rising in his ship, dragging the ringleaders with his own hands from
among their followers, interceded on behalf of one of the condemned
because he had previously borne a good character. "I am glad of it,"
replied Jervis; "hitherto we have been hanging scoundrels. Now men will
know that no good character will atone for the crime of mutiny." In
lesser matters, also, his tendency was to exaggerate restraint as well
as punishment. "Where I would take a penknife," said Nelson, "Lord St.
Vincent takes a hatchet."
With such characteristics, accompanied though they were by resolution
and high professional accomplishments, it is not to be expected that
the fire of genius will be found. Though not an ungenerous man, Lord
St. Vincent lacked the sympathetic qualities that made Nelson at
once so lovable and so great a leader of men. Escaping the erratic
temper and the foibles of his great successor, upon whose career these
defects have left marks ever to be regretted by those who love his
memory, Jervis fell short too of the inspiration, of the ardor, which
in moments of difficulty lifted Nelson far above the common plane of
mankind, and have stamped his actions with the seal of genius. But
after Nelson, Jervis, though of a different order, stands first among
British commanders-in-chief. For inspiration he had a cool, sound,
and rapid professional judgment; for ardor, a steady, unflinching
determination to succeed; and these, joined to a perfect fearlessness
of responsibility such as Nelson also showed, have won for him a place
in the first rank of those chieftains, whether sea or land, who have
not received the exceptional endowments of Nature's favorites. In
the one general action which Fortune permitted to him, the battle of
Cape St. Vincent, he illustrated these traits to a high degree; as
Nelson then also showed that faculty of quick appreciation and instant
action, in which all the processes of thought and will blend into one
overpowering conviction and impulse that lesser men never know. Whether
we consider the vastly superior numbers then deliberately engaged, the
tactics of the admiral on the battle-field, or his appreciation of the
critical position in which Great Britain then stood, Sir John Jervis's
conduct on that occasion must make the battle of Cape St. Vincent ever
illustrious among the most brilliant sea-fights of all ages.
To these powerful elements of his nature, Jervis added a capacity
for comprehensive and minute attention to the details of discipline,
order and economy, without which mere severity would become aimless
and productive of none but bad results. He was fortunate in finding
among the Mediterranean captains an unusual number of men of consummate
seamanship, energy and resources, in all the vigor of a prime still
youthful, who were only waiting for a master-hand to combine and
give direction to their abilities. With such a head and with such
subordinates, the British Mediterranean fleet soon became a model
of efficiency and spirit, which was probably never equalled in the
days of sailing ships. Nelson so considered it; and the old admiral
himself bewailed its memory several years later, when commanding
the Channel fleet, and complained testily of the "old women in the
guise of young men," whom he found in charge of ships off Brest.
As an administrator, when First Lord, the economy of Jervis became
exaggerated into parsimony, and his experience of the frauds connected
with the dockyards of the day led him into a crusade against them,
which was both well meant and necessary, but particularly ill-timed.
It has consequently left a stigma of failure upon his administration,
which is due, however, not to his executive inefficiency, but to a
misapprehension of the political signs of the times. Absorbed in
reform, and for it desiring quiet, he saw only peace while the dark
clouds of war were gathering thick on the horizon. Therefore the
British navy, well-worn by the first war, was not ready for that which
followed it in 1803.
Jervis's arrival in the Mediterranean was too late to remedy the
impending evils. It was a singular misfortune for Great Britain, that
the interregnum between two such able men as Hood and Jervis should
have coincided with the determination of the French to try the chance
of battle with their Mediterranean fleet, and that the opportunities
they lost should have fallen to so sluggish and cautious an admiral
as Hotham. "To say how much we wanted Lord Hood on the 13th of July,"
wrote Nelson, "is to say, Will you have all the French fleet, or
no action?"[123] Accepting this opinion in the light of Nelson's
subsequent achievements, it may be permitted to think that, if not all
the fleet, so many ships would have fallen as to have prevented the
sailing of Richery's squadron and the consequent necessary detachment
of Admiral Mann; while the loss of seamen captured would have seriously
crippled the operations of the flotilla, which from Toulon supplied
the Army of Italy with ammunition, artillery and stores. Light guns
on mountain carriages could be carried along the Corniche; but at
the opening of Bonaparte's operations all heavy guns, and artillery
outfits of all kinds, had to be taken by sea from Nice to Savona.[124]
The demands of this flotilla necessitated the laying up of the
fleet,[125]—a matter of less consequence as the determination to resort
to commerce-destroying had then been reached. The French navy therefore
became, through the flotilla, a very important part of Bonaparte's
communications; and it has already been pointed out that sailing ships
could not break up, though they might much disturb, the voyages of the
smaller vessels employed on a difficult coast, with batteries under
which to take refuge.
After the battle of Loano, Nelson, whose occupation on the Gulf of
Genoa was for the time over, went to Leghorn to refit his ship, then
nearly three years in commission. Not till January 19,1796, did he
join Jervis, who since his arrival on the station had, for the most
part, remained in San Fiorenzo organizing his fleet. The new admiral
showed him the same confidence as his predecessors, and sent him at
once to his old station, with a light division, to prevent any small
number of men making a descent upon Italy. A predominant idea, one
might almost call it a fad, in Nelson's mind, was the landing of a
body of men from ships in rear of the enemy. As has been seen, he was
forward to recommend such an attempt to Devins, promising to support
it with his squadron; and the intelligence concerning flat-boats and
gunboats prepared in the French ports suggested nothing to his mind so
much as transporting troops to Tuscany, in rear of the Austrians, while
the main French army operated in their front. Like Bonaparte, Nelson
recognized the resources which the plains of Piedmont, Lombardy and
Tuscany would offer to the needy enemy. He called them a gold mine;
but he did not understand the weakness of the French in seamen, nor
realize the improbability of Bonaparte's attempting such a use of his
troops as would put them far out of mutual support and away from his
own control. Certainly no indication of such a purpose is to be found
in his correspondence or in the instructions of the Directory to him.
On the contrary, he had strongly advised against a pet project of the
Committee of Public Safety, early in 1795, to land an expedition in the
papal states,—unless with control of the sea.[126]
Had the Austrians again advanced to the sea and occupied Vado, Jervis
would undoubtedly have supported them and harassed the French to a very
important extent. Nelson gave express assurances on that point.[127]
Bonaparte, however, allowed him no opportunity. Leaving Paris on the
14th of March, 1796, the young general reached Nice on the 27th of
the month. On the 5th of April he moved his headquarters to Albenga,
and on the 9th to Savona. On the 10th Beaulieu, the new Austrian
general, began to move his left wing by the pass of La Bochetta, his
right by that of Montenotte; the junction to be formed at Savona.
Quick as lightning, Bonaparte struck at once where the Austrian right
touched the Sardinian left. Blow followed blow upon the centre of the
allies, and after six days' fighting their armies were definitively
separated. Driving the Sardinians before him in unremitting pursuit,
Bonaparte on the 28th granted an armistice, by which three of the
principal fortresses of Piedmont were put into his possession and
plenipotentiaries dispatched to Paris to treat for peace. This was
concluded and signed on the 15th of May. Sardinia abandoned the
coalition, surrendered the counties of Savoy and Nice, and yielded
other conditions favorable to France,—particularly in the boundary
lines traced on the crests of the mountains, where the commanding
military positions were given to the republic. Thus the gates of Italy
were forced; and Austria, stripped of her ally on shore and cut off
from the British at sea, alone confronted Bonaparte.
The French were now in the plains of Piedmont, with Lombardy before
them. Beaulieu, expecting an advance against Milan by the north bank
of the Po, had withdrawn across that river, intending to dispute its
passage. If forced, he would cover Milan by falling back successively
upon the lines of the Sesia and the Ticino, tributaries of the main
stream. Bonaparte, however, was not the man to attack an enemy in
front and force him back along his natural line of retreat to his
proper base. Weighing accurately the political and military conditions
of the peninsula, he had fixed his eye upon the line of the Adige
as that which he wished to reach and hold, and which, under all the
circumstances, he believed he could master. The Adige flows from the
Tyrol south along the east shore of the Lake of Garda, then turns
to the eastward and enters the Adriatic between the Po and Venice.
Occupying it, the French army would cover all the valleys of the Po,
lay tribute upon their resources as well as upon those of the small
states south of the river, interpose between Austria and southern
Italy, and isolate Mantua, the enemy's great stronghold. Making,
therefore, a feint of following Beaulieu by the methodical front
attacks expected by him, Bonaparte pushed his main force stealthily
along the south bank of the Po. On the 7th of May the advance-guard
reached Piacenza, and crossed at once by boats. On the 9th a bridge
was completed over the river, which at this point is fifteen hundred
feet wide and very rapid. Beaulieu's intended positions on the Sesia
and Ticino were thus turned, and the Austrians necessarily fell back to
the line of the Adda. On the 10th of May, just one month after Beaulieu
began his forward movements, the bridge of Lodi, over the Adda, was
carried; and the Austrians again fell back to the Mincio, the outlet
of the Lake of Garda, uncovering Milan. On the 15th Bonaparte entered
Milan in triumph. Here he paused for ten days, and, after quitting
the place, had to return to punish a revolt which broke out among the
people; but on the 30th of May the French crossed the Mincio, the
Austrians retreating northward toward the Tyrol, along the east shore
of the Lake of Garda.
This retrograde movement left Mantua to itself. On the 3d of June
Bonaparte's headquarters were at Verona,—a strongly fortified place
bestriding the Adige, thus insuring an easy transit to either side of
the river, and which derives further strategic importance from its
topographical position. A number of spurs run south from the Tyrol
along the Lake of Garda and fall into the plain at Verona, which thus
stands at the foot of the valleys formed by them. On either side of
this cluster of spurs lie the valleys of the Adige and the Brenta,
the two probable lines by which an Austrian attack would come.
Verona, therefore, was a central point with reference to any offensive
movements of the enemy, and became the pivot upon which Bonaparte's
strategy hinged. On the 4th of June Mantua was blockaded. Having now
compassed his first objective, Bonaparte passed temporarily from the
offensive to the defensive, ceased his advance, and occupied himself
with assuring the line of the Adige and pressing the siege of Mantua.
There remained only to realize the political advantages gained by his
wonderful successes. The Duke of Parma had entered into a convention
on the 9th of May, followed in the same course on the 17th by the
Duke of Modena. On the 5th of June the Court of Naples, startled out
of its dream of security, signed an armistice, withdrawing its troops
from the coalition and its ships from the British fleet,—a precipitate
abandonment of the common cause as ill-judged as it was cowardly. At
that very moment the French leader was writing, "I see but one means
not to be beaten in the autumn; and that is, so to arrange matters that
we shall not be obliged to advance into southern Italy."[128] The Pope
still holding out, Bonaparte improved the time which the Austrians must
need to prepare a new movement, by marching into the papal states a
corps under Augereau, whom he followed in person. On the 19th Bologna
was reached, and on the 24th the Pope signed an armistice. Coincidently
with this advance, it was felt safe and opportune to send into Tuscany
a division taken from the corps occupying Piedmont. This detachment
entered Leghorn on the 28th of June, occupied the port despite the
neutrality of Tuscany, drove out and broke up the great British
commercial and naval interests centred there, and obtained a secure
base for the intended attempt upon Corsica.
The failure of the Austrians to reach the coast, and their subsequent
retreat, of course put an end to any direct co-operation between them
and the British fleet. Jervis was forced to confine himself to watching
the Toulon ships,—an operation conducted in the same spirit and on
the same system which he afterwards imparted to the Brest blockade,
and generally to that of all hostile arsenals. For over six months,
from the beginning of April to the middle of October, he cruised with
fifteen sail-of-the-line off the port; the heavy ships remaining some
distance from it, but near enough to support a light division of three
seventy-fours, which kept just out of range of the batteries, about
two miles from the entrance. By unremitting care and foresight, the
ships on this arduous service were provisioned, watered and repaired
on the spot, without going into harbor. Nelson, as the year before,
was actively employed in the Gulf of Genoa, harassing the coast
communications, and was on one occasion fortunate enough to capture
a convoy with guns and entrenching tools for the siege of Mantua. In
the Adriatic, a few frigates and a flotilla of small vessels were
engaged in protecting the Austrian communications by way of Trieste.
Admiral Mann, with seven ships-of-the-line, was still off Cadiz, in the
station assigned him by Hotham to watch Richery. Besides these strictly
military operations, ships were called for in every direction to convoy
trade, to cover the passage of storeships, and generally to keep the
sea safe for unarmed British vessels, whether traders or government
transports, upon whom depended the supplies of the fleet and those of
Gibraltar drawn from Barbary. Between thirty and forty frigates and
smaller vessels were thus occupied, and were found insufficient to meet
the varied demands arising from the wide diffusion of British commerce
and the activity of French cruisers.
Bonaparte's rapid successes and wide flight of conquest materially
affected the British fleet; and the question of supplies became very
serious with the ports of Tuscany, Naples and the Pope closed to
its aid. Growing symptoms of discontent made the tenure of Corsica
doubtful, with the French in Leghorn, and with Genoa tolerating their
intrigues through fear of their armies. As early as May 20, immediately
after entering Milan, Bonaparte had sent agents to Genoa to concert
risings in the island; and in July he began to collect in Leghorn a
body of Corsican refugees, at whose head he put General Gentili, also
a native. The threatening outlook of affairs, and the submission of
Tuscany to the violation of her neutrality by the French, determined
the viceroy of Corsica to seize Elba, although a Tuscan possession.
Nelson, with a small squadron, appeared before Porto Ferrajo on the
10th of July, and to a peremptory summons received immediate surrender.
Being very small, Elba was more immediately under naval control than
Corsica, and to hold it required fewer troops. In case of the loss of
the larger island, it would still assure the British a base in the
Mediterranean and continued control, so long as their fleet could
assert predominance over those of their enemies.
Some doubt, however, was felt on this latter point. The attitude of
Spain, far from cordial when an ally, had been cold as a neutral, and
was now fast becoming hostile. The decrepit kingdom had a navy of over
fifty sail-of-the-line; and, although its discipline and efficiency
were at the lowest ebb, the mere force of numbers might prove too
much for even Jervis's splendid fleet of only twenty-two,—seven of
which were still before Cadiz, a thousand miles from the main body off
Toulon. Foreseeing the approaching danger, Jervis, about the time Elba
was seized, sent Mann orders to rejoin him; and accordingly, on the
29th of July, the blockade of Cadiz was raised. It was just in time,
for on the 19th of August Spain, moved by the successes of Bonaparte
and the French advance into Germany,—which had not yet undergone the
disasters afterwards inflicted upon the separated armies of Jourdan
and Moreau by the Archduke Charles,—had signed a treaty of offensive
and defensive alliance with the republic. As soon as Mann's ships
disappeared, Richery demanded the help of the Spanish fleet to cover
his departure, and on the 4th of August sailed in company with twenty
Spanish ships-of-the-line. These escorted him three hundred miles to
the westward, and then returned to port, leaving the French to fulfil
their original mission against British North America, after a detention
of nearly ten months. Richery, who had been promoted to rear-admiral
during this time, made his cruise successfully, harassed the fishing
interests on the coasts of Newfoundland, captured and burned a hundred
British merchant vessels, and got back to Brest in time to take part in
the unfortunate expedition against Ireland, which sailed in December of
this year.
Admiral Mann, though a brave and good officer, showed bad judgment
throughout this campaign. Apparently, to use Napoleon's expression,
"Il s'était fait un tableau" as to the military and naval situation;
and to such a frame of mind the governor of Gibraltar, O'Hara, a
pessimist by temperament,[129] probably was a bad adviser. In his
precipitation to join the commander-in-chief, he forgot the difficulty
about stores and left Gibraltar without filling up. Jervis consequently
was forced to send him back at once, with orders to return as quickly
as possible. On his way down, on the 1st of October, he was chased by
a Spanish fleet of nineteen sail-of-the-line under Admiral Langara.
His squadron escaped, losing two merchant vessels under its convoy;
but, upon arriving in Gibraltar, he called a council of captains, and,
having obtained their concurrence in his opinion, sailed for England,
in direct disregard of the commands both of Jervis and the Admiralty.
Upon his arrival his action was disapproved,[130] orders were sent him
to strike his flag and come ashore, and he appears never again to have
been employed afloat; but, when it is remembered that only forty years
had elapsed since Byng was shot for an error in judgment, it must be
owned men had become more merciful.
Mann's defection reduced Jervis's forces by one third, at a time when
affairs were becoming daily more critical. Not only did it make the
tenure of the Mediterranean vastly more difficult, but it deprived
the admiral of his cherished hope of dealing a staggering blow to
the Spanish fleet, such as four months later he inflicted at Cape
St. Vincent. After meeting Mann, Langara was joined by seven ships
from Cartagena, and with this increase of force appeared on the 20th
of October about fifty miles from San Fiorenzo Bay. Jervis had just
returned there from off Toulon, having on the 25th of September
received orders to evacuate Corsica,—an operation which promised
to be difficult from lack of transports. On the 26th of October
Langara entered Toulon, where the new allies had then thirty-eight
ships-of-the-line collected.
During the summer months Nelson had blockaded Leghorn, after its
occupation by the French; and this measure, with the tenure of Elba,
seems to have effectually prevented any large body of men passing
into Corsica. On the 18th of September the little island of Capraja, a
Genoese dependency and convenient refuge for small boats, was seized
for the same object. On the 29th, however, Nelson received orders
from Jervis for the evacuation of Corsica, the operations at Bastia
being assigned to his special care. As soon as the determination of
the British was known, discontent broke out into revolt. Gentili,
finding the sea clear, landed on the 19th of October, pressing close
down upon the coast; and the final embarkation was only effected in
safety under the guns of the ships. On the 19th Nelson took off the
last of the troops, and carried them with the viceroy to Elba, which it
was intended still to hold. Jervis held on at San Fiorenzo Bay to the
latest moment possible, everything being afloat for a fortnight before
he left, hoping that Mann might yet join, and fearing he might arrive
after the departure of the fleet. On the 2d of November provisions were
so short that longer delay was impossible; and the admiral sailed with
his whole force, reaching Gibraltar, after a tedious voyage, on the
1st of December, 1796. During the passage, in which the crews were on
from half to one third the usual rations, Jervis received instructions
countermanding the evacuation, if not yet carried out. If executed,
Elba was still to be held.
The policy of thus evacuating the Mediterranean admits, now as then, of
argument on both sides. The causes for the vacillation of the British
government are apparent. The first orders to leave everything, Elba
included, were dated August 31. Generals Jourdan and Moreau were then
far in the heart of Germany; and the archduke having but just begun
the brilliant counter-move by which he drove first one, and then the
other, back to the Rhine, the effects of this were in no way foreseen.
From Italy the latest possible news was of Bonaparte's new successes
at Lonato and Castiglione, and the fresh retreat of the Austrians.
The countermanding orders, dated October 21, were issued under the
influence of the archduke's success and of Wurmser's evasion of
Bonaparte and entrance into Mantua; whereby, despite repeated defeats
in the field, the garrison was largely increased and the weary work
of the siege must be again begun. While Mantua stood, Bonaparte could
not advance; and the Austrians were gathering a new army in the Tyrol.
The British government failed, too, to realize the supreme excellence
of its Mediterranean fleet and the stanch character of its leader.
"The admiral," wrote Elliott[131] on the spot, "is as firm as a rock.
He has at present fourteen sail-of-the-line against thirty-six, or
perhaps forty. If Mann joins him, they will certainly attack, and
they are _all_ confident of victory." The incident of Mann's conduct,
under these circumstances, is full of military warning. It is within
the limits of reasonable speculation to say that, had he obeyed his
orders,—and only extreme causes could justify disobedience,—the
battle of Cape St. Vincent would have been fought then in the
Mediterranean,[132] instead of in the Atlantic after the fall of
Mantua, and would have profoundly affected the policy of the Italian
States. With such a victory, men like Jervis and Elliott would have
held on for further orders from home. "The expulsion of the English,"
wrote Bonaparte, "has a great effect upon the success of our military
operations in Italy. We must exact more severe conditions of Naples.
It has the greatest moral influence upon the minds of the Italians,
assures our communications and will make Naples tremble even in
Sicily."[133]
In the opinion of the author, Sir Gilbert Elliott expresses the correct
conclusion in the words following, which show singular foresight as
well as sound political judgment: "I have always thought that it
is a great and important object in the contest between the French
republic and the rest of Europe, that Italy, in whole or in part,
should neither be annexed to France as dominion, nor affiliated in
the shape of dependent republics; and I have considered a superior
British fleet in the Mediterranean as an essential means for securing
Italy and Europe from such a misfortune."[134] Elliott's presentiments
were realized by Napoleon at a later day; the immediate effect of
the evacuation was indicated by a treaty of peace between France and
Naples, signed October 10, as soon as the purpose was known. In 1796
the British fleet had been three years in the Mediterranean, and since
the acquisition of Corsica had effected little. What was needed at
the moment was not an abandonment of the field, but a demonstration
of power by a successful battle. The weakest eyes could count the
units by which the allied fleets exceeded the British; acts alone
could show the real superiority, the predominance in strength, of the
latter. That demonstrated, the islands and the remote extremities of
the peninsula would have taken heart, and a battle in the Gulf of Lyon
had the far-reaching effects produced by that in Aboukir Bay. At the
time of the evacuation the three most important factors in the military
situation were, the siege of Mantua, the Austrian army in the Tyrol,
and, last but not least, the British fleet in the Mediterranean. This
sustained Naples; and Naples, or rather southern Italy, was one of
Bonaparte's most serious anxieties. Finally, it may be said that the
value of Corsica to the fleet is proved by Nelson's preference of
Maddalena Bay, in the straits separating Corsica from Sardinia, over
Malta, as the station for a British fleet watching Toulon.
Immediately upon reaching Gibraltar, Jervis received orders to take the
fleet to Lisbon, in consequence of a disposition shown by the allied
French and Spanish governments to attack Portugal.[135] The limits
of his command were extended to Cape Finisterre. Before sailing, he
despatched Nelson up the Mediterranean with two frigates to bring
off the garrison and stores from Elba, the abandonment of which was
again ordered. On the 16th he sailed for Lisbon, arriving there on the
21st; but misfortunes were thickening around his fleet. On the 10th,
at Gibraltar, during a furious gale, three ships-of-the-line drove
from their anchors. One was totally lost on the coast of Morocco, and
another struck so heavily on a rock that she had to be sent to England
for repairs. Shortly after, a third grounded in Tangiers Bay, and,
though repaired on the station, was unfit for service in the ensuing
battle. A fourth, when entering the Tagus in charge of a pilot, was
run on a shoal and wrecked. Finally, in leaving the river on the 18th
of January, a ninety-eight-gun ship was run aground and incapacitated.
This reduced the force with which he then put to sea to seek the enemy
to ten ships-of-the-line.
Nelson, his most efficient lieutenant, was also nearly lost to him
on that interesting occasion, when his fearlessness and _coup d'œil_
mainly contributed to the success achieved. Sailing from Gibraltar on
the 15th of December, he fought on the 20th a severe action with two
Spanish frigates, which would have made a chapter in the life of an
ordinary seaman, but is lost among his other deeds. His prizes were
immediately recovered by a heavy Spanish squadron, but his own ships
escaped. On the 26th he reached Porto Ferrajo, and remained a month.
He was there joined by Elliott, the late viceroy of Corsica, who had
been in Naples since the evacuation. General De Burgh, commanding the
garrison, refused to abandon his post without specific orders from
the government, and as Nelson had only those of Jervis, he confined
himself to embarking the naval stores. With these and all the ships of
war he sailed from Elba on the 29th of January, 1797. On the 9th of
February he reached Gibraltar; and thence, learning that the Spanish
fleet had repassed the Straits, he hurried on to join the admiral. Just
out of Gibraltar he was chased by several Spaniards,[136] but escaped
them, and on the 13th fell in with the fleet. At 6 P. M. of that day
he went on board his own ship, the "Captain," seventy-four, at whose
masthead flew his broad pennant[137] during the battle of the following
day.
The meeting which now took place between the Spanish and British fleets
was the result of the following movements. Towards the end of 1796
the Directory, encouraged by Bonaparte's successes and by the Spanish
alliance, and allured by the promises of disaffected Irish, determined
on an expedition to Ireland. As the first passage of the troops and
their subsequent communications would depend upon naval superiority,
five ships-of-the-line were ordered from Toulon to Brest. This force,
under Admiral Villeneuve, sailed on the 1st of December, accompanied
by the Spanish fleet of twenty-six ships, which, since October, had
remained in Toulon. On the 6th Langara went into Cartagena, leaving
Villeneuve to himself, and on the 10th the French passed Gibraltar in
full sight of the British fleet, driving before the easterly gale,
which then did so much harm to Jervis's squadron and prevented pursuit.
They did not, however, reach Brest soon enough for the expedition.
The Spaniards remained in Cartagena nearly two months, during which
time Admiral Cordova took command; but under urgent pressure from the
Directory[138] they finally sailed for Cadiz on the 1st of February,
passing the Straits on the 5th with heavy easterly weather, which
drove them far to the westward. They numbered now twenty-seven
ships-of-the-line.
Sir John Jervis, after leaving Lisbon on January 18, 1797, had convoyed
to the westward some Portuguese merchant ships bound to Brazil, and
then beaten back towards his station off Cape St. Vincent. On the 6th
of February he was joined by a re-enforcement of five ships, which were
sent from England as soon as the scare about Ireland had passed. With
these fifteen he cruised off the Cape, knowing that he there must meet
any squadron, from either the Mediterranean or the Atlantic, bound to
Cadiz. At 5 A.M. of February 14, the frigate "Niger," which had kept
sight of the Spanish fleet for some days, joined the admiral, and
informed him that it was probably not more than ten or twelve miles
distant, to the southward and westward. The wind, which had been strong
south-easterly for several days, had changed during the night to west
by south, enabling the Spaniards to head for Cadiz, after the weary
battling of the past week; but this otherwise fortunate circumstance
became a very dangerous incident[139] to a large, ill-officered, and
ill-commanded body of ships, about to meet an enemy so skilful, so
alert, and so thoroughly drilled as Jervis's comparatively small and
manageable force. At daybreak, about 6.30, the Spaniards were seen,
stretching on the horizon from south-west to south in an ill-defined
body, across the path of the advancing British. Their distance, though
not stated, was probably not less than fifteen to twenty miles. The
British fleet being close hauled on the starboard tack, heading from
south to south by west, while the Spaniards, bound for Cadiz, were
steering east-south-east, the two courses crossed nearly at right
angles. At this moment there was a great contrast between the arrays
presented by the approaching combatants. The British, formed during
the night in two columns of eight and seven ships respectively,
elicited the commendation of their exacting chief "for their admirable
close order."[140] The Spaniards, on the contrary, eager to get to
port, and in confusion through the night shift of wind and their own
loose habits of sailing, were broken into two bodies. Of these the
leading one, as all were sailing nearly before the wind, was most to
leeward. It was composed of six ships, the interval between which and
the other twenty-one was probably not less than eight miles. Even
after the British fleet was seen, no attempt was for some time made
to remedy this fatal separation; a neglect due partly to professional
nonchalance and inefficiency, and partly to misinformation concerning
the enemy's force, which they had heard through a neutral was only nine
ships-of-the-line.[141]
[Illustration: Battle of Cape St. Vincent, February 14, 1797.]
The weather being hazy and occasionally foggy, some time passed before
the gradually approaching enemies could clearly see each other. At 9
A.M. the number and rates of the Spaniards could be made out from the
masthead of the British flag-ship, so that they were then probably
distant from twelve to fifteen miles. At half-past nine Jervis sent
three ships ahead to chase, and a few minutes later supported them
with three others. This advanced duty enabled these six to take the
lead in the attack. About ten[142] the fog lifted and disclosed the
relative situations. The British, still in two columns, were heading
fair for the gap in the Spanish order. The six lee ships of the latter
had realized their false position, and were now close to the wind on
the port tack, heading about north-north-west, in hopes that they could
rejoin the main body to windward, which still continued its course for
Cadiz. Jervis then made signal to form a single column, the fighting
order of battle, and pass through the enemy's line. It soon became
evident that the lee Spanish ships could not cross the bows of the
British. For a moment they wavered and bore up to south-east; but soon
after five of them resumed their north-west course, with the apparent
purpose of breaking through the hostile line whose advance they had not
been able to anticipate.[143] The sixth continued to the south-east and
disappeared.
The weather division of the Spaniards now also saw that it was not
possible for all its members to effect a junction with the separated
ships. Three stood on, and crossed the bows of the advancing enemy;
the remainder hauled up in increasing disorder to the northward,
steering a course nearly parallel, but directly opposite, to the
British, and passing their van at long cannon shot. At half-past
eleven the "Culloden," Captain Troubridge, heading Jervis's column,
came abreast the leading ships of this body, and opened fire. Sir John
Jervis now saw secured to him the great desire of commanders-in-chief.
His own force, in compact fighting order, was interposed between the
fractions of the enemy, able to deal for a measurable time with either,
undisturbed by the other. Should he attack the eighteen weather, or
the eight lee ships, with his own fifteen? With accurate professional
judgment he promptly decided to assail the larger body; because the
smaller, having to beat to windward, would be kept out of action longer
than he could hope if he chose the other alternative. The decision was
in principle identical with that which determined Nelson's tactics
at the Nile. The signal was therefore made to tack in succession, in
pursuit of the weather ships. Troubridge, anticipating the order, had
already hoisted at the masthead his answering flag of recognition,
rolled up after the manner of the sea, needing but a turn of the wrist
to unloose it. Quick as the admiral's signal flew the reply fluttered
out, and the "Culloden's" sails were already shaking as she luffed up
into the wind. "Look at Troubridge," shouted Jervis, in exultation:
"he handles his ship as if the eyes of all England were upon him!
and would to God they were!" The rear of the Spaniards was just
passing the "Culloden" as she thus went round. Ship after ship of the
British line tacked in her wake and stood on in pursuit; while those
still on the first course, south by west, interposed between the two
Spanish divisions. Of these the lee, led by a hundred-gun ship under a
vice-admiral's flag, headed towards Jervis's flag-ship, the "Victory,"
the seventh in the British order, as though to go through the line
ahead of her. The "Victory" was too prompt; and the Spaniard, to avoid
collision, went about close under the British broadsides. In doing
this he was exposed to and received a raking fire, which drove him out
of action, accompanied by his consorts. The "Victory," which had backed
a topsail a moment to aim more accurately, then stood on and tacked in
the wake of the "Culloden," followed by the rest of the British column.
It was now nearly one o'clock. The action so far had consisted, first,
in piercing the enemy's line, cutting off the van and greater part
of the centre from the rear; and, second, in a cannonade between two
columns passing on opposite parallel courses,—the Spanish main division
running free, the British close to the wind. Naval history abounds in
instances of these brushes, and pronounces them commonly indecisive.
Jervis, who had seen such,[144] meant decisive action when he ordered
the "Culloden" to tack and follow the enemy. But a stern chase is a
long chase, and the Spanish ships were fast sailers. Some time must
pass before Troubridge and his companions could overtake them; and,
as each succeeding vessel of the British line had to reach the common
point of tacking, from which the Spaniards were steadily receding,
the rear of Jervis's fleet must be long in coming up. That it was so
is proved by the respective losses incurred. It has, therefore, been
suggested that the admiral would have done well to tack his whole
fleet, or at least the rear ships together, bringing them in a body on
the Spanish van. The idea is plausible, but errs by leaving out of the
calculation the Spanish lee division, which was kept off by the British
rear ships. Those eight lee ships are apt to be looked on as wholly
out of the affair; but in fact it was a necessary part of Jervis's
combination to check them, during the time required to deal with the
others. Admiral Parker, commanding in the van, speaks expressly of the
efforts made by the Spanish lee division to annoy him, and of the
covering action of the British rear.[145]
Thus, one by one, the British ships were changing their course
from south by west to north-north-east in pursuit of the Spanish
main division, and the latter was gradually passing to the rear of
their enemy's original order. When they saw the sea clear to the
south-east, about one o'clock, they bore up, altering their course
to east-south-east, hoping to pass behind the British and so join
the lee division. Fortunately for Jervis, Nelson was in the third
ship from the rear. Having fully divined his chief's purpose, he saw
it on the point of defeat, and, without waiting for orders, wore at
once out of the line, and threw the "Captain," alone, in front of the
enemy's leading ships. In this well-timed but most daring move, which
illustrates to the highest degree the immense difference between a
desperate and a reckless action, Nelson passed to the head of the
British column, crossing the bows of five large Spanish vessels, and
then with his seventy-four engaged the "Santisima Trinidad," of one
hundred and thirty guns, the biggest ship at that time afloat. The
enemy, apparently dashed by this act of extraordinary temerity, and as
little under control as a flock of frightened sheep, hauled up in a
body again to north-north-east, resuming what can only be described as
their flight.
Their momentary change of course had, however, caused a delay which
enabled the British leaders to come up. Troubridge in the "Culloden"
was soon right behind Nelson, to whom he was dear beyond all British
officers, and three other ships followed in as close array as was
consistent with the free use of their guns. The Spaniards, never in
good order, lay before them in confusion, two or three deep, hindering
one another's fire, and presenting a target that could not easily be
missed. This closing scene of the battle raged round the rear ships of
the Spanish main body, and necessarily became a _mêlée_, each British
captain acting according to his own judgment and the condition of
his ship. A very distinguished part fell to Collingwood, likewise a
close associate of Nelson's, whose ship, the "Excellent," had brought
up the rear of the order. Having, probably from this circumstance,
escaped serious injury to her spars, she was fully under her captain's
control, and enabled him to display the courage and skill for which
he was so eminently distinguished. Passing along the enemy's rear, he
had compelled one seventy-four to strike, when his eye caught sight
of Nelson's ship lying disabled on the starboard side, and within
pistol shot, of the "San Nicolas," a Spanish eighty; "her foretopmast
and wheel shot away, not a sail, shroud, or rope, left,"[146] and
being fired upon by five hostile ships. With every sail set he pressed
ahead, passing between the "Captain" and her nearest enemy, brushing
the latter at a distance of ten feet, and pouring in one of those
broadsides of which he used to assure his practised crew that, if
they could fire three in five minutes, no vessel could resist them.
The "San Nicolas," either intentionally or from the helmsman being
killed, luffed and fell on board the "San Josef," a ship of one hundred
and twelve guns, while the "Excellent," continuing her course, left
the ground again clear for Nelson. The latter, seeing the "Captain"
powerless for continued manœuvre, put the helm to starboard; the
British ship came up to the wind, fetched over to the "San Nicolas,"
and grappled her. Nelson, having his men ready on deck, rushed at their
head on board the Spaniard, drove her crew below, and captured her. The
"San Josef," which was fast to the "San Nicolas" on the other side,
now opened a fire of musketry; but the commodore, first stationing
sentinels to prevent the "San Nicolas's" men regaining their deck,
called upon his own ship for a re-enforcement, with which he boarded
the three-decker and carried her also. On her quarter-deck, surrounded
by his followers still hot from the fight, he received the swords of
the Spanish officers.
This dramatic ending to the distinguished part played by him, and
the promptitude of his previous action, by which, while assuming a
great responsibility, he saved the success of the day, have made
Nelson the most striking figure in the battle of Cape St. Vincent;
or, as it is sometimes called, of St. Valentine's Day. This splendid
movement of his genius in no way detracts from the credit due to the
commander-in-chief; as it was no lessening of Nelson's own fame that
the leader of the van at the Nile conceived on the moment the happy
thought of passing inside the French line. To Jervis alone belongs
the honor of attacking such heavy odds, as well as of the correct
and sufficient combination by which he hoped to snatch victory from
superior numbers. He was happy, indeed, in having such a lieutenant,
so right a man in so right a place, and at so critical a moment; but
the whole responsibility and the whole original plan was his, and no
man can take it from him. To him, too, was primarily due the admirable
efficiency of his fleet, which removed from his enterprise the reproach
of rashness to bestow upon it the praise of daring. A yet higher meed
of glory is due to this bold admiral. As the dull morning light showed
him the two fleets, he was heard to say, "A victory is very essential
to England at this moment." Honor to the chief who can rise above his
own anxieties and his local responsibilities to think of the needs of
his country, and who is willing to risk his own reputation to support
her credit.
Four Spanish ships were now in the possession of the British, and the
great "Santisima Trinidad" was without fore or mizzen mast,—some said
she had struck; but the lee division of the enemy was at last coming
up, and many of the weather were still uninjured. Jervis, therefore,
about four in the afternoon formed his fleet in line on the starboard
tack, interposing it between the enemy and his prizes. This ended
the battle. It has been thought that further pursuit of a fleet so
disgracefully beaten would have increased the British triumph; but
Jervis was not the man to risk a substantial success, securely held,
for a doubtful further gain. The victory essential to Great Britain
was won; the worthlessness of the Spanish navy was revealed,—it could
no longer be accounted a factor in the political situation. In the
opinion of the author, Jervis was right not to expose this, the great
and attained result of Valentine's Day, to those chances of mishap that
cannot be excluded from the operations of war.
Among the numerous rewards bestowed for this action, the admiral was
advanced to the peerage as Earl St. Vincent, while upon Nelson was
bestowed the then distinguished honor of Knight of the Bath. On the
20th of February he was made a rear-admiral. The captains of the fleet
received medals, and the senior lieutenant of each ship was promoted.
Jervis had well said that Great Britain was then in essential need
of a victory; and never was one better timed for political effect.
Deep gloom prevailed throughout the country, and in every quarter the
horizon was black with clouds, when, on the 3d of March, the bearer
of the dispatches reached the admiralty. Since Bonaparte had seized
the line of the Adige and cut off Mantua, three distinct attempts
had been made by the Austrians in superior force to dislodge him
and relieve the city; and in all three they had been beaten with
heavy loss. The news was but lately come that Mantua had capitulated,
leaving Bonaparte free to assume the offensive and advance, as he
shortly did. The British fleet had been forced to abandon Corsica and
the Mediterranean. Peace negotiations, begun with the republic, had
ended by the British envoy being peremptorily ordered to leave France
in forty-eight hours; and although the government had not expected a
favorable issue, the effect on the people was disheartening. Consols
fell to 51, a depression greater than any reached during the American
Revolution.[147] The expedition of the French against Ireland had
indeed failed; but so little share had the Channel fleet borne in
their defeat, that the country was forced to ascribe to the direct
interposition of Divine Providence a deliverance, which it would have
preferred to see wrought through the instrumentality of the navy. That
trusted arm of the national defence seemed palsied in every quarter.
Finally, among the greater of many discouraging circumstances, specie
payments were stopped by the Bank of England on the 26th of February,
in obedience to an order of the government. The profuse subsidies paid
to continental states, and the demands for coin to meet the expenses
of the navy in all parts of the world, were the chief causes of a
drain against which the bank directors had frequently remonstrated
during two years as threatening ruin. To these causes for scarcity was
added at this time another, temporary in its character and arising in
great part from loss of confidence in the navy's efficiency,—the fear,
namely, of invasion. People had begun to call for and to hoard coin
against an evil day. Such was the outlook as Jervis's captain posted
from Falmouth, where he landed, to London, keeping the secret of his
good news within his breast. The frigate which had borne him went on to
Plymouth with the viceroy of Corsica, returning with his suite from his
lost principality. When they landed on the 5th of March, news had just
reached the town of the suspension of cash payments, and, as they told
of the great achievement off Cape St. Vincent, people at first refused
to believe that the tide had turned. They were expecting to hear of
a junction between the French and Spanish fleets, and an approaching
invasion. So great was the financial panic, that fifteen guineas
were with difficulty collected among government officials to pay the
expenses of Elliott's journey to London.[148]
The revulsion was great, and was proved by the profusion with which
rewards were distributed. The Spanish navy had been but a bugbear,
but as a bugbear it was great. The veil that covered its rottenness
was stripped away, and at the same time were revealed to the nation,
which feared it had no naval chiefs, the striking and brilliant figures
of Jervis and Nelson. In vain did the Opposition, in the true spirit
of faction, seek to turn men's eyes from the brilliant achievements
of the warriors to the imbecility affirmed of the government, which
had opposed fifteen ships to twenty-seven. Thinking men realized
that the administration could not be held responsible for Mann's
unauthorized return at Christmas-tide, nor for the extraordinary
series of misfortunes by which five more of the Mediterranean fleet
were in one short month incapacitated. They saw, too, that no popular
government would have dared to replace Mann's ships so long as the fate
of Ireland, then in the balance, was uncertain. But most men did not
care to think. It was enough for them that fifteen British ships had
dashed into the midst of twenty-seven enemies, had collared and dragged
out four of the biggest and severely handled the rest. It was enough
to hear that the crew of one British seventy-four, headed by a man
whom few out of the navy yet knew, had, sword in hand, carried first a
Spanish eighty and then another of one hundred and twelve guns. With
such men to rule the fleet, and with Pitt at the helm of state, they
thanked God and took courage. Speculation is often futile; yet it is
hard to see how the country could have borne the approaching crisis of
the mutinies, on top of its other troubles, had not the fear of the
Spanish navy been removed and the hope of better naval leaders been
afforded. That the hope was well founded is no speculation. With St.
Vincent began a series of victories and achievements which have thrown
the great deeds of earlier years into undeserved obscurity.
Immediately after the battle the Spanish fleet entered Cadiz, and
Jervis returned to Lisbon to refit his ships. On the 31st of March,
having received further re-enforcements, he left Lisbon with twenty-one
ships-of-the-line and took position off Cadiz, where the Spaniards
had twenty-six of the same class. After cruising for six weeks under
sail, he anchored the fleet for a long blockade, and this disposition
continued with little intermission for two years,—until May, 1799,
when the successful sortie of Admiral Bruix from Brest, related in
another place,[149] and the consequent chase by the British blockading
force, gave the Spaniards the opportunity to slip out. This tedious
watching was unfruitful in events of military interest; but the burden
of the commander-in-chief was increased by the spirit of mutiny,
rife throughout the whole period, which triumphed temporarily in the
Channel and North Sea fleets, and was by Jervis kept down only by a
stern vigilance of which few but he were capable. Stamped out time
and again by his unflinching energy, it was continually renewed by
the fresh ships sent out from home, under officers of temper inferior
to his captains, and with seamen who knew not yet by experience
the indomitable will which they sought to bend. Execution followed
execution; but never once did the old man's courage quail nor his
determination falter. Seaman and officer alike were made to feel that
while his flag flew his authority should prevail; and with such
backing the officers showed themselves incapable of the weaknesses too
often manifested in the home ports.[150] It is probable too that a
strong nucleus of support existed among the crews that fought at St.
Vincent,—due to admiration for the admiral himself, and for Nelson,
Collingwood, Troubridge, Saumarez and others, who there distinguished
themselves.
While these various events were transpiring at sea, from the evacuation
of Corsica to the battle of St. Vincent, Bonaparte in Italy was still
holding the line of the Adige and blockading Mantua. His posture
therefore was essentially one of defence. The vigor and sagacity with
which he resorted to offensive movements the instant the enemy drew
down from the Tyrol to attack him, and the brilliant character of the
victories won by him, obscure to most the fact that he was really on
the defensive; holding on, amid risks and discouragements, to the
conquests already made, and unable to attempt more until Mantua fell.
The glories of Castiglione, Arcola, Rivoli, conceal this crucial
feature of his situation, and the consequently important bearing of the
presence of the British fleet, encouraging the dispositions of Naples
and the Pope, which were distinctly hostile to the French. Nothing less
than Bonaparte's energy and genius could have grappled successfully
with such a situation; and his correspondence betrays his fear that, by
the co-operation of the fleet, these dangers in the rear might become
too great even for him. When Mantua capitulated on the 2d of February,
Bonaparte turned first upon the Pope, whom he accused of violating the
armistice concluded the previous June. His Holiness at once submitted,
and on the 19th of February signed a peace, abandoning his right to
his northern provinces,—Bologna, Ferrara and the Romagna,—and ceding
to France, until the end of the war, Ancona, a good seaport on the
Adriatic.
On the 10th of March, having completed all the dispositions that seemed
necessary to secure his rear, Bonaparte advanced against the Austrians.
The young Archduke Charles, whom the campaign of 1796 on the Danube
had revealed to Europe as gifted with military talents of a very high
order, had been sent to oppose him; but it was too late to resist on
the plains of Italy, or even on the Italian side of the mountains. The
French crossed the Tagliamento on March 16, and pushed up through the
gorges of that stream and of the Isonzo into the eastern Alps. On the
23d Trieste was occupied. The Archduke retired continuously, barely
disputing difficult positions with the enemy. His mind was fixed not to
fight until he had drawn the French far into Germany, and had collected
his own resources,—a decision whose wisdom Bonaparte sealed with his
own commendation. "If the enemy had committed the folly of awaiting
me," he wrote to the Directory, "I should have beaten them; but if they
had continued to fall back, had joined a part of their forces from the
Rhine, and had overwhelmed me, then retreat would have been difficult,
and the loss of the Army of Italy might entail that of the republic. We
must not shut our eyes to the fact that, though our military position
was brilliant, we have not simply dictated the conditions."[151] Italy,
too, was fermenting behind him. The moral effect, however, of this
unopposed advance through the mountains of Carinthia brought the House
of Austria to terms; and on the 18th of April preliminaries of peace
were signed at Leoben, only sixty miles from Vienna. Though the formal
treaty was not concluded until six months later, this transaction
marked, for that time, the end of hostilities between Austria and
France, which had then lasted five years,—from April, 1792, to April,
1797.
The preliminaries of Leoben stipulated a mutual cessation of
hostilities between the republic and the emperor, and extended this
provision to all the states of the German Empire, as well as to the
particular dominions of the emperor himself. Austria surrendered
definitively the Netherlands (Belgium), and "recognized the limits of
France as decreed by the laws of the French Republic." In this phrase
was imbedded the rock upon which negotiations with Great Britain split.
The republic, on its part, undertook to furnish to the emperor at the
final peace a "just and suitable compensation" for the provinces he
lost.
The "suitable compensation," thus mysteriously alluded to, was defined
in the "secret preliminary agreements," contracted at the same moment.
It was furnished by depriving the republic of Venice, with which
Bonaparte had reasons for serious discontent, of all its possessions on
the mainland of Italy, as well as of Istria and Dalmatia on the east
coast of the Adriatic. The provinces thus taken were divided: Austria
receiving all east of the Oglio and north of the Po, with Istria and
Dalmatia. The country between the Oglio and the Adda, previously owned
by Venice, was taken to constitute a new, independent republic; into
which were also incorporated all possessions of Austria west of the
Oglio conquered by the French in the recent campaign. This was to be
known as the Cisalpine Republic. Thus the lords of the Adriatic were
shorn of their glory, and brought to the brink of the precipice from
which, six months later, at the final peace, the Corsican conqueror
hurled them headlong. For the moment there were spared to them their
ancient city and the Ionian Islands; and the legations of Bologna,
Ferrara, and the Romagna, taken from the Pope, were given to them,—a
like transient possession.
Such, in brief outline, were the principal terms of the preliminaries
of Leoben. The great and significant feature does not ostensibly appear
among the articles. Bonaparte, in diplomacy, had achieved the great
end at which he aimed in his plans of campaign. He had separated his
enemies. "The French Republic," wrote he, "in granting at Leoben
preliminaries so advantageous to his Imperial Majesty, had as its
principal end the conclusion of a _separate peace_ with his Majesty,
in order to be in a position to turn all its forces against England,
and oblige her to a prompt peace." He alone made and signed the
preliminaries, and this quotation gives the strategy and policy of his
life in a nutshell.[152] The crucial fact at Leoben was that Austria
then, as Sardinia a year before, treated alone,—without her ally. This
Great Britain, to her honor, absolutely refused to do in 1796, and as
long as her ally stood by her. There is, of course, a great difference
between the position of a state which finds a victorious enemy in the
heart of its territories, and that of an island empire; and great
allowance must be made for Austria, even though the calm retrospect of
history sees that she failed rightly to appreciate the extreme hazard
of Bonaparte's situation. But this allowance merely emphasizes the
important truth, that the imposing attitude maintained by Great Britain
throughout this tremendous contest depended absolutely and wholly upon
the control of the sea,—upon Sea-Power.
NOTE.—It now only remains to be seen how, when insubordination,
and accompanied by villany of this magnitude, did make its open
appearance, Lord St. Vincent dealt with it. A remarkable occasion
will be mentioned, not indeed the first outbreak of mutiny,
nor its last effort, but that one which excited the greatest
sensation in the fleet,—that which came with most untoward
circumstances,—that of which the enforcement of the penalty had,
in Lord St. Vincent's opinion, the most salutary effect.
* * * * *
No sooner had Sir Roger Curtis arrived, than applications came to
the commander-in-chief for courts-martial on mutineers from three
of those ships,—the "Marlborough," the "Lion," and the "Centaur."
Selection will be made of the sequel to the "Marlborough."
As the squadron approached, and before the request for a
court-martial, this ship being known to the commander-in-chief
to have been among the most disorganized at Spithead had been
ordered to take her berth in the centre, at a small distance from
the rest of the fleet. It, however, had so happened that a very
violent mutiny in her had broken out at Beerhaven, and again
during the passage, which had been suppressed by the officers,
but chiefly by the first lieutenant. The very object too of this
mutiny was to protect the life of a seaman who had forfeited it
by a capital crime. A court-martial on the principal mutineers
was immediately assembled; and one was no sooner sentenced to die
than the commander-in-chief ordered him to be executed on the
following morning, "_and by the crew of the 'Marlborough' alone,
no part of the boats' crews from the other ships, as had been
usual on similar occasions, to assist in the punishment_,"—his
Lordship's invariable order on the execution of mutineers. On
the receipt of the necessary commands for this execution, the
captain of the "Marlborough," Captain Ellison, waited upon
the commander-in-chief, and reminding his Lordship that a
determination that their shipmates should not suffer capital
punishment had been the very cause of the ship's company's mutiny,
expressed his conviction that the "Marlborough's" crew would never
permit the man to be hanged on board that ship.
Receiving the captain on the "Ville de Paris'" quarter-deck,
before the officers and ship's company, hearkening in breathless
silence to what passed, and standing with his hat in his hand
over his head, as was his Lordship's invariable custom during the
whole time that any person, whatever were his rank, even a common
seaman, addressed him on service, Lord St. Vincent listened very
attentively till the captain ceased to speak; and then, after a
pause, replied,—
"What do you mean to tell me, Captain Ellison, that you cannot
_command_ his Majesty's ship the 'Marlborough'? for if that is the
case, sir, I will immediately send on board an officer who can."
The captain then requested that, at all events, the boats' crews
from the rest of the fleet might, as always had been customary in
the service, on executions, attend at this also, to haul the man
up; for he really did not expect the "Marlborough's" would do it.
Lord St. Vincent sternly answered: "Captain Ellison, you are an
old officer, sir, have served long, suffered severely in the
service, and have lost an arm in action, and I should be very
sorry that any advantage should be now taken of your advanced
years. That man _shall be_ hanged, at eight o'clock to-morrow
morning, _and by his own ship's company_: for not a hand from any
other ship in the fleet shall touch the rope. You will now return
on board, sir; and, lest you should not prove able to command your
ship, an officer will be at hand to you who can."
Without another word Captain Ellison instantly retired. After
he had reached his ship, he received orders to cause her guns
to be housed and secured, and that at daybreak in the morning
her ports should be lowered. A general order then issued to the
fleet for all launches to rendezvous under the "Prince" at seven
o'clock on the following morning, armed with carronades and twelve
rounds of ammunition for service; each launch to be commanded
by a lieutenant, having an expert and trusty gunners'-mate and
four quarter-gunners, exclusive of the launch's crew; the whole
to be under the command of Captain Campbell, of the "Blenheim."
The written orders to the captain will appear in their place.
On presenting them, Lord St. Vincent said, 'he was to attend
the execution, and if any symptoms of mutiny appeared in the
"Marlborough," any attempt to open her ports, or any resistance
to the hanging of the prisoner, he was to proceed close touching
the ship, and to fire into her, and to continue his fire until
all mutiny or resistance should cease; and that, should it become
absolutely necessary, he should even sink the ship in face of the
fleet.'
Accordingly, at seven the next morning, all the launches, thus
armed, proceeded from the "Prince" to the "Blenheim," and thence,
Captain Campbell having assumed the command, to the "Marlborough."
Having lain on his oars a short time alongside, the captain then
formed his force in a line athwart her bows, at rather less than
pistol-shot distance off, and then he ordered the tompions to be
taken out of the carronades, and to load.
At half-past seven, the hands throughout the fleet having been
turned up to witness punishment, the eyes of all bent upon a
powerfully armed boat as it quitted the flag-ship; every one
knowing that there went the provost-marshal conducting his
prisoner to the "Marlborough" for execution. The crisis was come;
now was to be seen whether the "Marlborough's" crew would hang one
of their own men.
The ship being in the centre between the two lines of the fleet,
the boat was soon alongside, and the man was speedily placed on
the cathead and haltered. A few awful minutes of universal silence
followed, which was at last broken by the watch-bells of the fleet
striking eight o'clock. Instantly the flag-ship's gun fired, and
at the sound the man was lifted well off; but then, and visibly
to all, he dropped back again; and the sensation throughout the
fleet was intense. For, at this dreadful moment, when the eyes
of every man in every ship were straining upon this execution,
as the decisive struggle between authority and mutiny, as if it
were destined that the whole fleet should see the hesitating
unwillingness of the "Marlborough's" crew to hang their rebel,
and the efficacy of the means taken to enforce obedience,
by an accident on board the ship the men at the yard-rope
unintentionally let it slip, and the turn of the balance seemed
calamitously lost; but then they hauled him up to the yard-arm
with a run,—the law was satisfied, and, said Lord St. Vincent at
the moment, perhaps one of the greatest of his life, "Discipline
is preserved, sir!"
When the sentence was executed, and not any disturbance appeared,
that it might be again made perceptible to all the fleet that
abundant force had been provided to overpower any resistance
which a line-of-battle ship could offer, Captain Campbell broke
his line, and rowing down, placed his launches as close alongside
the "Marlborough" as their oars would permit; and then re-forming
them, resumed his station across her bows, continuing there until
the time for the body's hanging having expired, it was taken
down, sewed up as is usual in its own hammock with a shot, and
was carried in one of the "Marlborough's" boats to half a mile
from the ship, and sunk; upon which, Captain Campbell withdrew his
force, and the "Marlborough's" signal was made to take her station
in the line.
This was the fatal blow to the mutiny in the fleet before Cadiz;
not that violent insubordination, treasonable conspiracies, and
open resistances did not again and again occur, to be as often
and as instantaneously quelled; for the ships were many that were
sent out from England, several arrived in almost open mutiny, and
they brought a profusion of infection to the rest. The dreadful
sentence was again and again inflicted, and in all cases of
insubordination the crews were invariably the executioners of
their own rebels; but never again was the power of the law doubted
by any one.—_Tucker's Memoirs of Earl St. Vincent_, vol. i. pp.
303-309.