Nelson: Britannia's God of War

by Andrew Lambert

  General Stuart and Lord Hood are as far asunder as the other generals. They hate us sailors, we are too active for them. We accomplish our business sooner than they like, we throw them and I hope ever shall both at sea and on shore in the background.

  Not that this rivalry was without potential penalties: ‘I may perhaps suffer by it.’39

  The wider consequences of Corsica were complex. With the island secure, the British fleet could act on the Italian coast, in support of Sardinia and Austria. However, the British had very few disposable troops, and most were being sent to Holland or the West Indies. Instead the ministers were looking to their allies for Mediterranean manpower. The failure to wipe out the French fleet when the opportunity allowed would complicate the British position for the next four years. The presence of a powerful, if not particularly capable enemy fleet forced successive British commanders to keep their battle fleet concentrated, and close to Toulon, leaving precious few resources to exploit command of the sea or cooperate with allies.

  British Mediterranean policy throughout the Revolutionary War period was crippled by the priority given to the West Indies, the Low Countries, French royalists on the Atlantic coast and the need to build new coalitions. Only when Austria requested a fleet did the subject attract serious Cabinet consideration. Otherwise the ministers were content to leave the theatre alone, and rarely troubled themselves to reply to despatches from the admiral, or the Viceroy of Corsica. This forced the local authorities to develop much of their programme alone, a task that suited imperious optimistic men like Hood, and able statesmen of Elliot’s stamp, but destroyed lesser men.

  By the autumn of 1795 Pitt had lost interest in Corsica, seeing it as a source of problems with Spain, rather than the key to the Mediterranean. No one in London accepted Elliot’s analysis that the island gave the British control of the Franco-Italian coast, while the loss of Hood and the resignation of Stuart left the military commands in the hands of political cowards.40

  For Nelson, Corsica had been crucial to the formation of his concept of theatre strategy, influenced by Hood and Elliot, who demonstrated how the wider patterns of war and politics combined to make strategy, and where the power of the fleet could be most effectively employed. For the rest of his career Nelson sought bases in the Mediterranean to replace the lost British province of Corsica. In his time he secured Sicily and Malta, watched Minorca return to British control, and later pressed for Sardinia to be occupied. The battery commander who served at Bastia and Calvi would mature to replace his beloved mentor. Hood, who had returned home in November after his Corsican triumph, could rest easy at Greenwich while Nelson held his old command. He had done well to pass the mantle of theatre command to an officer formed in his own image, and yet entirely his own man.

  Notes – CHAPTER IV

  1 Rose, J. H. ‘British Rule in Corsica’ in Rose ed. Pitt and Napoleon: Essays and Letters. London, 1912. pp. 60–2.

  2 Hood to Nelson 15 and 28.12.1793; Godfrey, J. H, ed. ‘Corsica 1794’ in Lloyd, C. ed. The Naval Miscellany Volume IV. Navy Records Society (henceforth NRS) London. 1952, pp. 364–5.

  3 Nelson to Wife 16.1.1794; Naish pp. 99–100

  4 Nelson to Locker 17.1.1794; Nicolas pp. 347–8. It is significant that letters to naval correspondents are altogether more analytical, reflecting the cerebral aspect of his work, while those to his family are narratives interspersed with reflections on thwarted ambition.

  5 Nelson to Wife 30.1.1794; Naish pp. 101–2

  6 Journal 6.2.1794; Naish pp. 144–5

  7 Fortescue, J.W. A History of the British Army. Vol. IV, 1906 pp. 182–5. A severe critic of Hood, Fortescue provides a useful counter to the naval accounts. However, his bias is excessive, and largely self-defeating. His other target, Henry Dundas, is also now seen in a more favourable light.

  8Nelson to Wife 13.2. 1794; Naish pp. 102–3

  9 Nelson to Wife 28.2.1794; Naish pp. 103–4

  10 Hood, Nelson, Dundas and Elliot correspondence of 8–9.3.1794; see NRS, 371–3, Minto and Nicolas.

  11 Minto II p. 247

  12 D’Aubant to Henry Dundas 2.4.1794; NRS pp. 382–3

  13 Moore Diary 21.3.1794. NRS; pp. 378–9. Nelson to Wife 22.3.1794; Naish pp. 106–7

  14 Nelson to Hamilton 27.3.1794; Nicolas pp. 377–9

  15 Hood to Nelson 20 and 21.4.1794; NRS pp. 387–8

  16 Hood to Nelson 24–31.4.1794; NRS pp. 389–91

  17 Nelson to Wife 1–4.5.1794; Naish pp. 109–111

  18 Moore Diary 3.5.1794; NRS pp. 392–3

  19 Hood to Nelson 5, 8,9, 11,13 and 15.5.1794; NRS pp. 393–7

  20 Moore Diary 15.5.1794; NRS pp. 397–8

  21 Hood to Nelson 22.5.1794; NRS p. 399

  22 Nelson to Locker, William Nelson and Wife 30.5.1794; Naish, pp. 112–13, Nicolas pp. 402–4

  23 Nelson to Hood 23.6.1794; Nicolas I p. 413

  24 Hood to Elliot 15.7.1794; Naish p. 172

  25 Hood to Elliot 3.7.1794; Moore Diary 19.6.1794; NRS pp. 403–4

  26 Nelson to Hood 3, 4, 6 and 7.7.1794; Nicolas pp. 417–24 Stuart to Nelson 4.7.1794; NRS p. 405

  27 Nelson to Pollard 14.7.1794; Nicolas p. 436

  28 Moore Diary 13.7.1794; NRS pp. 405–6

  29 Nelson to Hood and Hood to Nelson 12.7.1794; Nicolas pp. 432–3

  30 The precise nature of the injury was never determined. Pugh, Nelson and his Surgeons, p. 8

  31 Stuart to H. Dundas 13.7.1794; NRS p. 406

  32 Nelson to Hood 18 and 19.7.1794; NRS pp. 407–9. Fortescue p. 193

  33 Hood to Nelson 19.7.1794; NRS p. 408. Nelson to Hood 20.7.1794; NRS p. 409

  34 Hood to Nelson 20, 21 and 22.7.1794; NRS pp. 410–12

  35 Elliot to Duke of Portland (Secretary of State for Home Affairs, now responsible for the island). 28.8.1794; NRS pp. 417–18

  36 Nelson to Wife. 25.8.1794. Naish p. 121.

  37 Nelson to Elliot 4.8.1794. Nelson to Hood 5, 8, 9 and 10.8.1794. Nelson to Agent of Transports at San Fiorenzo 6.8.1794; Nicolas I pp. 464–73

  38 Nelson to Clarence 6–10.8.1794; Nicolas I pp. 474–6

  39 Nelson to Wife 18 and 25.8.1794; Naish pp. 119–21

  40 Rose, pp. 73–4

  Fighting a gun in action, by Rowlandson

  CHAPTER V

  The Commander Emerges 1795

  While his worn and short-handed ship refitted at Leghorn Nelson took the time to reflect on his following, and his prospects. His naval ‘family’ was fast disappearing: Mary Moutray’s son, a universal favourite, had died on the eve of a promotion, young Hoste was ill. The broader picture was no more favourable: the French fleet at Gourjean bay was bound to escape, once the weather turned. If only Hotham had attacked them when he had the chance – it was better to fight than to make overly nice calculations.1

  Nelson was still expecting to accompany Hood on his way home for the winter.2 After his stay in England, he would return for the next campaign in a fresh seventy-four with the best of his crew.3 Both men were clearly still operating to an eighteenth-century concept of war, when campaigning seasons reflected the weather, the ability of armies to operate and the age of the senior officers. Men of Hood’s age, past seventy, simply could not sustain theatre command for years on end. When war was a matter of provinces and islands, such relaxed attitudes were acceptable – but this war would change the rules. Neither shortages of food nor harsh weather would stop the numerous and dynamic armies of the French Republic. The rest of Europe would have to match them or be overrun. Nelson had yet to see the enemy at full strength, and his education in this new reality over the next three years would be painful, testing his reserves of optimism, enthusiasm and professionalism.

  The high opinion Hood held of Nelson was shown by the fact that he detached him, rather than one of the surfeit of admirals, to reopen relations with Genoa. These had been poisoned by the seizure of a French frigate in the harbour back in 1793. The new Doge was friendly and civil, but inclined to favour the French: th
e city was ripe for French plunder and the old men who ran it were nervous. Closer contact with Italian politics made Nelson realise that the petty principalities, republics and kingdoms of the peninsula were feeble, frightened and incapable of collective action. Nor were the Austrians, the main ally in the theatre, much better: Nelson concluded that ‘The Allied Powers seem jealous of each other and none but England is hearty in the cause.’ He realised that the imminent French invasion would hinge on Vado Bay, a strategic inlet in Genoese territory. The only place on the Riviera where large ships could block the advance of an army, it was now in French hands.4 Nelson was destined to spend a long time in that bay, and to realise that his own country was by no means hearty in this particular cause.

  On his return to the fleet, Nelson reminded Hood that he had lost the sight of his eye, attaching medical notes: the loss was pensionable and he was anxious to secure his entitlement. Hood carried the correspondence to the Admiralty,5 but the pension could only be awarded when Nelson had been inspected by the medical board, by which time he had added another claim. Hood handed over command to Vice Admiral Sir William Hotham at the beginning of October, leaving Nelson to hope that the change would not be to his disadvantage: he had seen little of Hotham, who had commanded the fleet at sea while Hood was off Corsica.6 When Hood departed, on 11 October, Nelson did not go with him: there were too few battleships on station to allow a ship that could float, and had half a crew, to go home. Instead he hoped for a big battle, or peace in the spring, when ‘I shall return to the plough with redoubled glee’.7

  After three weeks at sea he was bored by the prospect of yet more cruising with the fleet, and regretted that Hotham had not detached him to the Levant. He complained to Fanny that ‘I wish we could make a peace on any fair terms, for poor England will be drained of her riches to maintain her allies, who will not fight for themselves.’8 These sentiments may have been expressed to console her, though, since Nelson provided Locker with a more professional view. They could not get at the French fleet and were only making a show at sea, being unfit for any prolonged cruising. He feared that once the French ships were reunited, they would overrun Italy in the spring if the Austrians did not send troops into Piedmont. If the French occupied La Spezia, then ‘Italy is lost to us’, as the vital base at Leghorn would fall in a week.9

  The root cause of these reflections was Hotham’s approach to the theatre. Where Hood had divided his forces, attempting to solve a myriad of political, commercial and strategic problems with naval force, the new admiral was only too aware that he was locum tenens, anxious to hand back his charge undamaged and dominated by the resurgent French fleet. His caution was in direct contrast to Nelson’s growing confidence in strategic and political affairs. When Nelson rejoined the fleet off Gourjean it was to find that, as expected, the French had scuttled away in one of the recent gales. Hotham took the fleet back to San Fiorenzo, sending Nelson to look into Hieres Bay and Toulon.

  Though he could not count the ships at Toulon, it appeared that they were all in port, while local sources provided a rich haul of gossip. He copied the report, quite improperly, to Elliot, now Viceroy of Corsica, with a covering note advising him to reinforce the defences of Ajaccio. If the French managed to get ashore there they would be safe from the fleet.10 This was thoughtful precaution, not alarmism. He was confident the island could be held, and well informed about its strategic value under British rule as a replacement for Minorca and a source of naval stores.11

  Intelligence gathering off Toulon revealed that neutral powers were flouting the British blockade to supply the French with shipbuilding timber. Genoese vessels were the worst offenders, but the Danes and Swedes were also involved. The feeble attitude of the British government, a hangover from the Armed Neutrality of 1780, had enabled the French to build seven new battleships at Toulon.12 Nelson took matters into his own hands, with a little help from the local diplomatic representatives.

  Hotham, meanwhile, elected to keep the fleet in San Fiorenzo Bay – there had been a run of foul weather and stores, ships and men were in desperately short supply. Nelson, sent to Leghorn to shift the masts of the Agamemnon, lamented that ‘the laying in port is misery to me’. At least he could contradict rumours that the Agamemnon had been captured off Toulon, and relay the latest flattering comments from Elliot.13 He condemned Hotham’s feeble response to a mutiny on Linzee’s flagship, the Windsor Castle. When the crew demanded the removal of the captain and first lieutenant Hotham surrendered.14He was more severe with the officers who allowed the seventy-four Berwick to roll out her masts at San Fiorenzo while under repair. The captain, first lieutenant and master were all dismissed from the service.15The logic was clear enough: men and masts were too scarce to be wasted, but there were plenty of officers.

  While the Agamemnon was under refit Nelson attended to his more personal needs. He took a French master for himself, Josiah and young Hoste, reporting to Fanny that he was much improved in the language. However, the only extant example of his new-found proficiency is a letter to local opera singer and courtesan Adelaide Correglia.16 Although it was common for officers on distant stations to take a mistress, this appears to have been the first time Nelson had succumbed to temptation. Exhaustion and wounds from the Corsican campaign had weakened his resolve. He seems to have kept up the connection while Leghorn was open to the fleet: Adelaide’s local knowledge may have played a part in Nelson’s growing understanding of the frailties of Italian politics.

  Completing the refit in mid-December, Nelson rejoined the fleet. Within days he was back in love: ‘she is the finest ship I ever sailed in’.17 But the prospect of further prolonged periods at anchor was unwelcome, ‘for I hate lying idle’, and he was angling to get a detached command, a frigate squadron or something similar.18 Once again the puny Agamemnon would be his salvation. He was the most senior officer in a ship that could be spared. All the flag officers were in three-deckers, vital for the line of battle, and the other senior captains were in seventy-fours – but his sixty-four was a marginal fleet unit. Nelson had done well to stay in the lower-rated and lower-paid ship.

  Nelson clearly had the experience, all-round understanding and political insight required for decision-making at the highest level, and his assessments were usually correct. He was also beginning to assert his authority in small ways, second-guessing his unimaginative admiral. Yet he lacked the confidence to stand alone: he was therefore alarmed by rumours that Hood might not return, and desperate to have the great man back to guide his actions. His future was thrown into doubt by the change of leadership at the Admiralty on 19 December, when Earl Spencer replaced Lord Chatham. The change removed the Admiralty from the political fiefdom of the Pitt family into a broad-based coalition. Inevitably, distance and slow communication generated rumours, one of which had Hood replacing Howe in command of the Channel fleet. Nelson immediately declared himself ‘tired of this country’ and anxious to rejoin his mentor.19 However, he was revitalised by a letter from Hood, who spoke of returning with reinforcements. Fanny was told he could look forward to a pension for his eye, or a colonelcy in the marines: an extra salary awarded to distinguished senior captains, relinquished on promotion to flag rank.20

  *

  Despite such occasional contact, the Mediterranean fleet remained isolated and remote from events in London. Letters took at least four weeks to reach them, and Hotham annoyed his officers by repeatedly failing to give them adequate notice of a homebound departure, resulting in hurried or non-existent correspondence.21 By late February there had been no mail for nine weeks, which added to the fleet’s sense of abandonment. This increased when the Grand Duke of Tuscany left the war and declared his neutrality, although Leghorn was still open to the fleet. Nelson thought it was time for a change of policy, or strategy:

  Therefore, as all powers give up the contest, for what has England to fight? I wish most heartily we had peace or that all our troops were drawn from the continent, and only a naval war carried on, th
e only war where England can cut a figure.22

  Just when the campaign seemed to be dying of inaction, Hotham suddenly ordered the fleet to sea to meet the enemy. Four days later Nelson found time to compile a letter for Fanny. He was in sight of the enemy, the signal for a general chase was flying, but the ships were hardly moving in the light airs and the French were inshore. Once again he placed his trust in God and promised to do his duty. He was looking for his Wolfe moment:

  Life with disgrace is dreadful. A glorious death is to be envied, and, if anything happens to me, recollect death is a debt we must all pay, and whether now or in a few years hence can be but of little consequence.23

  He would write several versions of this letter over the next decade.

  The tedious business of bringing a reluctant enemy to battle occupied the next two days, and brought news that the jury-rigged Berwick had been captured by the French. So short-handed was the fleet that Nelson wanted to borrow men from the frigates, which would not fight in the battle line. Fortunately there was not time, for Captain Fremantle’s Inconstant played a significant role in the battle that followed. After a partial action on 13 March in which a crippled French eighty, the Ça Ira, had been harried by Fremantle, and then by Nelson, the two fleets engaged the following day as the French cripple and the seventy-four-gun Censeur, which was towing her, were taken. On the first day Nelson was in his element, leading the fleet and keeping his fast and handy little sixty-four on the stern of the much larger Ça Ira, pouring in broadside after broadside, inflicting heavy damage on the ship and her crew, stopping any attempt to repair her rigging, and forcing the enemy flagship to put about to her aid. He managed all this without losing a man, demonstrating seamanship of the highest quality.