Nelson: The Essential Hero (54 page)

At half-past ten drove from dear dear Merton, where I left all which I hold dear in this world, to go to serve my King and Country. May the Great God whom I adore enable me to fulfill the expectations of my Country; and if it is His good pleasure that I should return, my thanks will never cease being offered up to the Throne of His Mercy. If it is His good providence to cut short my days upon earth, I bow with the greatest submission, relying that He will protect those so dear to me, that I may leave behind. - His will be done : Amen, Amen, Amen.

Next morning he arrived at Portsmouth, transacted his shore business, and embarked at Southsea beach with George Canning, the Treasurer of the Navy, and George Rose, from the Board of Trade, both of whom were to dine with him in the
Victory.
‘Nelson’, wrote Southey, ‘endeavoured to take a by-way to the beach; but a crowd collected in his train, pressing forward to obtain a sight of his face: many were in tears, and many knelt down before him and blessed him as he passed. England has had many heroes; but never one who so entirely possessed the love of his countrymen as Nelson.’ As ever he was in a fever of impatience to be gone. Hearing that the
Agamemnon,
the
Defiance
, and the
Royal Sovereign
were not yet ready, he gave orders for them to follow as soon as possible. On the morning of 15 September the
Victory
weighed anchor. She was accompanied only by Blackwood in the
Euryalus.
Light airs from the south-south-east hardly disturbed the water as, her giant sides dwarfing the dancing frigate, the
Victory
set course down Channel, bound for Cadiz and Cape Trafalgar.

On 17
September
the
Victory
was off Plymouth and Blackwood was sent into harbour with orders for the
Ajax
and the
Thunderer
to join. At nine o’clock in the morning, ‘Blowing fresh at W.S.W., dead foul wind’, Nelson wrote to Emma: ‘I intreat, my dear Emma, that you will cheer up; and we will look forward to many, many happy years, and be surrounded by our children’s children. God Almighty can, when he pleases, remove the impediment. My heart and soul is with you and Horatia.’ Two days later, south-west of the Scillies, a frigate was sighted which proved to be the
Decade
from the fleet off Cadiz. She was bearing home Nelson’s old second-in-command, Sir Richard Bickerton, who was sick; she also conveyed the cheering news that the French were still within Cadiz and that no battle had yet been fought by Admiral Collingwood. The
Euryalus
was now despatched with letters to the British Consul at Lisbon, to Captain Sutton of the
Amphion
off the Tagus, and to Collingwood, urging them to secure ‘every man, in every way, for the Fleet under my command’. Instructions were also sent that Nelson’s arrival was in no way to be made known and no salutes to be paid when he joined the fleet. Villeneuve’s lookouts would thus be aware of nothing more than that a further first-rate had joined the blockading fleet. Nelson, as far as was known at Cadiz, was on leave in England. He had no wish for the awe-inspiring quality of his name to give Villeneuve any further excuse for not coming out and giving battle.

On 28 September, the
Victory
sauntering along - ‘we have very little wind’ - Nelson sighted the fleet of which he was to take command. There they were - eighteen sail-of-the-line maintaining their watch and ward, and there in Cadiz harbour were the masts and yards of the combined Franco-Spanish fleets. It was reckoned that there were thirty-six sail-of-the-line, against which Nelson, as soon as he received expected reinforcements, would be able to muster thirty-three. The odds would not be too unequal and, if he had but known the dissension that existed in Cadiz between Frenchman and Spaniard, admirals, officers, and men alike, he would rightly have judged that they were on his side. Nor need he have worried that Villeneuve would fail to be drawn out, for the latter had only recently received orders to take the fleets to sea, enter the Mediterranean, land the troops they carried in the Kingdom of Naples, and then proceed to destroy all British trade. Villeneuve was further to be spurred into action by hearing unofficially that he was shortly to be relieved of his command by Vice-Admiral Rosily, and that Napoleon himself had castigated Villeneuve as a scoundrel and a traitor.

On taking command of the fleet Nelson’s first duty was an unhappy one. He had orders to tell Sir Robert Calder that he was to return home at once to stand trial by court-martial for his conduct of the recent engagement against the French. Nelson, as has been seen, had every sympathy with Calder and it was probably because he felt so strongly towards him that he accepted his plea to be allowed to return home to face the charges in his 90-gun the
Prince of Wales.
This was misplaced sentiment on Nelson’s part, to deprive the fleet of so powerful a vessel at the very moment when a major engagement was to be expected. It was, however, just this kind of tenderness towards worthy men in distress which had been evident throughout his career, that had made him the man whom all the fleet loved. He was also quickly to find out that, before the engagement took place, a new spirit had to be breathed into the blockading British ships. It was not that there had been anything basically wrong with Collingwood’s command, but he was an austere man whose attitude towards discipline was reminiscent of St Vincent’s, but who did not have the capacity to inspire affection among those who served under him. While on blockade, for instance, he had allowed no social visiting between ship and ship, and no boats to be hoisted out to buy fresh food from passing coasters, with the result that the fleet had settled down to an iron-bound routine. ‘For Charity’s sake,’ wrote Captain Codrington of the
Orion
, ‘send us Lord Nelson, ye men of power! ’

At once all was to change and, with the news that Nelson was now in command, an almost tangible feeling of good cheer and, indeed, joy spread throughout the fleet. Nelson himself was pleasantly sensible of it: ‘The reception I met with on joining the Fleet caused the sweetest sensation of my life. The officers who came on board to welcome my return forgot my rank as Commander-in-Chief in the enthusiasm with which they greeted me. As soon as these emotions were passed, I laid before them the Plan I had previously arranged for attacking the Enemy; and it was not only my pleasure to find it generally approved, but clearly perceived and understood.’ A tactical memorandum to the same effect, and still assuming that he would have enough ships for three columns, was issued a few days later. Meanwhile, in contradistinction to Collingwood’s grave rule, captains were invited aboard to dine with the Admiral, the buying of fresh provisions was encouraged, and as Captain Duff of the
Mars
put it: ‘He is so good and pleasant that we all wish to do what he likes, without any kind of orders.’ The day after the
Victory
had joined the fleet had been Nelson’s forty-seventh birthday and he had half the commanding officers to dine with him, and the other half the following day. ‘He certainly is the pleasantest Admiral I ever served under,’ wrote Captain Duff. The dinner parties were also what would today be called briefings and as Nelson wrote in a letter to Emma: ‘When I came to explain to them the “Nelson touch”, it was like an electric shock. Some shed tears, all approved - “It was new - it was singular - it was simple!”; and, from Admirals downwards, it was repeated -“It must succeed, if ever they will allow us to get at them. You are, my Lord, surrounded by friends whom you inspire with confidence.” ’ Already, and within so short a time, he had infused into his commanders the spirit of ‘the Band of Brothel's’ who had fought the Nile.

Collingwood may have been unpopular with the other officers but Nelson knew his value. He was brave and efficient, naturally enough, but he was also entirely dependable and he and Nelson had a rapport, the latter referring to him as ‘my dear Coll. as perfect as could be expected’. One change in Collingwood’s disposition of the fleet was quickly made, and this followed upon Nelson’s thinking in the blockade of Toulon. Collingwood had maintained a close blockade, which was natural enough since this had been the policy which he had rightly followed at Brest. Furthermore, until he had received additional ships into the fleet he had only been in a position to keep the enemy bottled up, not being strong enough to lure them out to fight. Nelson’s fleet soon being brought up to thirty-three ships-of-the-line, he felt that he could now give Villeneuve the feeling that at the right moment he could make a dash for it. After all, he had beaten the British at this very game before. Accordingly, Rear-Admiral Louis was recalled from his inshore station and the body of the British fleet withdrew to a position fifty miles west-south-west of Cadiz. The frigates were sent inshore to watch the enemy, other ships acting as relaying stations to Nelson and the fleet. On 3 October, Nelson despatched five ships from the fleet to Gibraltar for stores and water, and to Tetuan where they could embark beef. It was his intention to keep a movement like this in constant rota so that the fleet would at all times be in good health and condition. (The blockaded enemy of course always had this advantage that, while the British must of necessity despatch ships to water and provision, the fleet within the harbour could always sally out with its full complement.) Admiral Louis, who was in command of the ships detached, and who had been at the Nile as Captain of the
Minotaur
, was reluctant to leave : ‘You are sending us away, my Lord - the Enemy will come out, and we shall have no share in the Battle.’ Nelson reassured him, saying that he was sending him away first so as to be sure that he would be back in time. But Louis was to be proved right.

A welcome addition to the fleet hove in sight on Sunday, 13 October, Nelson’s favourite old ship the
Agamemnon
, and in command of her none other than Sir Edward Berry. Nelson was delighted. ‘Here comes that damned fool Berry! ’ he exclaimed.
‘Now
we shall have a battle.’

Throughout these anxious days Nelson had also to deal with all the routine administration of his command, which ranged from correspondence with the Consul at Lisbon, and the Dey of Algiers (his old adversary), to dockyard affairs in Gibraltar, and even to personal matters such as a young lieutenant who had run away with a ballet dancer. Furthermore his right hand, the indomitable Hardy, was ill, with the result that much of the work and routine business which he would have normally taken off Nelson’s shoulders had now to be borne by the Admiral. The day after Berry’s arrival the signal was made that the enemy was seen at the harbour mouth. This could only mean one thing, that they would come out at the first suitable moment. At six in the morning on 19 October, the frigate
Sirius
reported ‘Enemy have their topsails hoisted.’ The
Sirius
was standing close inshore and, even with the admirable signal system devised by Admiral Popham and introduced into the Navy two years before, it took some time for the news to spread down the line of reporting ships to reach Nelson nearly fifty miles away. He himself had also made a signal that morning inviting several captains to dine with him, and had sent a letter across to Collingwood : ‘What a beautiful day! Will you be tempted out of your ship? If you will, hoist the Assent and
Victory's
pendants.’ At nine-thirty that morning the news from Cadiz reached him, the dinner invitations were cancelled, and Nelson signalled: ‘General chase south-east.’ He was placing the fleet between Villeneuve and the Straits of Gibraltar.

With a light south-westerly wind scarce filling her sails, the
Victory
settled easily on to her course. In his sun-barred cabin the Admiral sat down to write a letter: ‘My dearest beloved Emma, the dear friend of my bosom,’ it read, the signal has been made that the Enemy’s Combined fleet are coming out of Port. We have very little wind, so that I have no hopes of seeing them before tomorrow. May the God of Battles crown my endeavours with success at all events, I will take care that my name shall ever be most dear to you and Horatia, both of whom I love as much as my own life, and as my last writing before the battle will be to you, so I hope in God I shall live to finish my letter after the Battle. May Heaven bless you prays your
Nelson and Bronte.

The following day he added a further paragraph : October 20th. In the morning we were close to the Mouth of the straights, but the Wind had not come far enough to the Westward to allow the Combined fleets to weather the Shoals off Trafalgar; but they were counted as far as forty Sails of Ships of War, which I suppose to be 34 of the Line and six Frigates, a group of them was seen off the Lighthouse of Cadiz this morning but it blows so very fresh and thick weather that I rather believe they will go into the Harbour before night. May God Almighty give us success over these fellows, and enable us to get a Peace.

‘Peace’ was the last word he wrote to the woman he loved with all his heart. His assessment that the enemy would put back to harbour was wrong. Soon after daybreak on that Sunday of 20 October, Villeneuve ordered the rest of his fleet to leave Cadiz. His intention was to stand to the westward so that, as soon as all the ships were out and clear, he could with a favourable wind make a quick run for the entrance to the Straits. It was not until noon that all the ships were at sea, and it was a further four hours before they were formed up in line of battle. This was composed of three divisions under Villeneuve’s command, with a further twelve ships under Admiral Gravina taking the windward station, to act as a scouting squadron and to try to drive off the shadowing British frigates. There was no question of the allied fleet fighting as two separate national bodies. They had quite deliberately been mixed with one another in such a way as to form a composite force and - it must be added - so that the French, who mistrusted the Spaniards, could keep an eye on them and see that they did not slink away in action back to the haven of Cadiz.