Nelson: Britannia's God of War

by Andrew Lambert

  The following day his first lieutenant, George Andrews, took the surrender of the two enemy prizes. Nelson and Admiral Goodall went on board Hotham’s flagship to press for a thorough pursuit. Having broken the enemy formation, demoralised their crew and taken two ships it was time to take a risk. Nelson, like Hood, could see the time was ripe to ‘take, sink, burn or destroy’, to make the French pay dearly for their temerity and solve the problems of the theatre at a stroke. Hotham, by contrast, was unwilling to risk dividing his fleet in the presence of a powerful and coherent enemy, or risk his prizes. Nelson soon discovered that the Ça Ira had a siege train in her hold for the recapture of Corsica, while the French flagship was reported to have the old mayor of Bastia among her passengers. The shattered, dismasted prizes were towed back to San Fiorenzo and stripped of stores. To refit them for service would require a dockyard, stores and artificers that Hotham did not possess.

  Safely anchored at La Spezia Nelson reflected on his achievement. His sixty-four, with only 344 men on board, had destroyed an eighty-gun ship with 1,300 men. He made haste to provide Clarence with a full report, including a telling detail: the French were firing red-hot shot, although they were useless on a ship. Later he discovered the French had been issued with combustible shells, but the officers had refused to use them, perhaps afraid so glaring a novelty might lead to reprisals.24 The professional report sent to Locker a few days later was more measured about the battle, and less critical of an admiral who had secured Corsica and Italy while short of ships, men and stores.25 At least the battle had re-established England as mistress of the seas, as she would remain if the government sent reinforcements and supplies.26

  Once back at San Fiorenzo Nelson was bored, and took an altogether more negative view. The French might split their fleet into detachments, sending out battleships and frigates to cut up British trade while Hotham kept his fleet idle at anchor.

  In short I wish to be an Admiral and in command of the English Fleet. I should very soon either do much or be ruined. My disposition can’t bear tame and slow measures.27

  As the alliance began to unravel – Spain and Naples were about to leave the war – a victory of annihilation became all the more necessary. The fleet had no spare masts, was only manned by prisoner exchanges and lacked a suitable admiral. Hotham was in good health, ‘but heartily tired of his temporary command, nor do I think he is intended by nature for a Commander in Chief, which requires a man of more active turn of mind’.28

  After six months and a battle under Hotham Nelson could see no alternative: he was ready to stand in for Hood. His judgement had been vindicated by events, and Elliot, the most important British official in the theatre, was writing to him in the most flattering terms. In response Nelson offered to command any sailors landed to defend Corsica, should the French get ashore. This was now more likely as six battleships had reached Toulon from Brest, without any countervailing reinforcement from England. Yet even with only fourteen battleships to face twenty-two French vessels he thought Hotham’s defensive posture was not the best option.29 Suitable reinforcements – and he reckoned Hood’s majestic nose was worth four ships30 – would make a difference, especially if the French continued to prosper on land.31

  As the fleet dropped down to Minorca to meet the reinforcements, and away from any possibility of action, Nelson became depressed. Although in good health he was suddenly tired of the Agamemnon. The second lieutenant, Allison, was a drunk and Nelson would give up the ship rather than serve with him as first lieutenant. Such a feeble response to a basic leadership issue was temporary, but revealing. Nelson’s thoughts were elsewhere, anxious to support the Austrian counter-attack on the Sardinian coast that promised to open Vado Bay and facilitate inter-allied cooperation. However, ‘our Admiral does not feel himself equal to show himself, much less to give assistance in their operations’.32

  To make matters worse, Nelson learnt that Hood would not return. This left Hotham temporarily in command: while he was ‘elated with his appointment … It is more than most of his fleet are for we have made a sad change.’ Bored and disheartened, he mused on what the French might do while the British were ‘skulking’ off Minorca. He also penned a striking denunciation of the Admiralty for dismissing Hood, though this was for his brother William rather than a professional audience.33 After three weeks the reinforcements arrived: six ships under Rear Admiral Man. Nelson was disgusted to find no letters. There was some consolation, though: at least his old bête noire, Linzee, was going home – there was no place for such a mediocrity once his patron was no longer in command.34 The French proved to be far too busy with a factional struggle at Toulon to trouble Hotham.35 And, fortunately for Nelson, the allied council of war at Milan on 22 June stressed the need for the armies ashore to secure Vado Bay, to link up with the fleet. Even Hotham could not ignore such a high-powered conference, where the British minister had taken a leading role.

  Nelson’s black mood soon passed, and he was delighted when two frigates captured a French ship of the same rate: ‘Thank God the superiority of the British Fleet remains, and I hope ever will.’ He was equally pleased that the alcoholic lieutenant Allison was invalided, although he doubted he would live to reach England.36 Allison outlived his captain’s expectations, but only just, dying in England in November.37

  Once at San Fiorenzo Hotham detached Nelson to cooperate with the Austrian General De Vins, with four smaller ships. Before he had time to savour his freedom, Nelson ran into the French fleet off Cape Delle Melle. Skilfully drawing the French after him, he made for San Fiorenzo to warn Hotham. The fleet put to sea in pursuit as soon as the wind allowed. The clean-hulled ships of Man’s division soon overhauled the enemy, who were ‘neither seamen nor officers’, but the victory that seemed to be in their grasp died with the wind, leaving a solitary seventy-four, the Alcide, to be battered into submission. The singular fruit of their endeavour then burnt to the waterline, after her ‘combustibles’ caught fire. Nelson saw an opportunity to win the campaign in an afternoon, but despite the French blunders Hotham still would not take any risks.38

  Four days later the Agamemnon, which had not been heavily involved in the battle, was tied up alongside the mole at Genoa. While his orders were to work with the allies, Nelson’s first concern was to deal with the markedly un-neutral conduct of the Genoese. He found an ally in the suitably named British minister, Francis Drake. Hotham’s orders were ‘useless to the common cause’ because they prevented him from stopping Genoese vessels, which he knew were supplying the French armies with food. Nelson asked Drake to get the orders revoked, and was ready to act immediately, if Drake agreed. This was vital because the allied armies were relying on famine to force the French troops out of their positions.39

  The latest promotion had left Nelson just seven places from the top of the list of captains. Instead of an admiral’s flag and early return to England he had the ‘honourable and pleasant’ marine colonelcy and had been mentioned to the King.40 While he told Hotham he would stay, and follow Admiralty orders, he promised Fanny he would only move into a fresh ship under orders, as he hoped the fleet would be reduced in the winter, when Agamemnon would go home.41

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  The urgency of the Riviera campaign increased with the signature of preliminaries of peace between France and Spain on 22 July. The Spaniards had done nothing positive for a long time, but the peace would release forty thousand French troops from the Pyrenees. Once in newly recovered Vado Bay with his eight-ship squadron, Nelson – basing his actions on the countenance of the British ministers at Genoa and Turin, and the conviction that he was right – set about stopping the Genoese trade with France, despite his orders from Hotham. He could see that the admiral ‘has no political courage, which is in an officer abroad as highly necessary as battle courage’.42 He also appealed to Elliot for support. Britain should not be worried by the protests of Genoa, Tuscany or the Barbary states when a six-week close blockade would see the Austrians advance to Nice. Hotham
, though, remained cautious, content while nothing was lost. ‘I almost, I assure you,’ Nelson told his brother, ‘wish myself an admiral, with the command of a Fleet. Probably, when I grow older, I shall not feel all that alacrity and anxiety for the service which I do at present.’43

  Nelson’s squadron at Vado cut the coasting traffic between France and Genoa, stopping any vessels with French cargoes. When the Genoese protested he reminded the minister that French warships and privateers operated out of Genoa harbour. He also encouraged the Austrians to consider an amphibious manoeuvre to outflank strong French defences on the coast.44 The mere thought of four to five thousand Austrian troops boarding transports, let alone landing from them, should have shown him the futility of the offer. These central European soldiers would rather fight a battle than go by sea. In the event General De Vins procrastinated and Hotham would not come to headquarters to press the case: ‘Hotham hates this cooperation and I cannot get him here. The Mediterranean command has ever so much business, compared to any other, that only a man of business ought to be here.’ Hotham was no theatre commander, but Nelson believed that the new admiral, Sir John Jervis, was just such a ‘man of business’.45

  To keep his mind off the inactivity of his admiral Nelson captured a French convoy of eleven vessels and the escorting corvette off Alassio on 26 August, scrupulously respecting the Genoese fort. A week later his men secured a Turkish ship, but took heavy casualties and were beaten off by two more.46 He believed the blockade had stopped any Genoese vessels sailing to France for over a month. Even Hotham was pleased, although this may have reflected Nelson’s utility as a provider of material for his otherwise featureless dispatches. Gradually Nelson realised that the Austrians were not entirely honest partners in the war effort. While British ministers grappled with Viennese aims in Northern Italy, Nelson saw its effect on his campaign. They had no intention of advancing, seeming more concerned to secure another £4 million of British money. This impasse made him regret Hotham’s refusal to come ashore. ‘I hope the general will be left without an excuse,’ he pleaded, but to no avail.47 A little of the admiral’s time, and a few transports, might have embarrassed the general into moving.

  On 20 September the Austrians attacked, directing their effort at the strongest point in the French line – casualties, it seemed, were of no account, only money. Recognising that purely military issues were now subordinate to policy, Nelson saw that the Mediterranean command carried with it another task: ‘I shall now become a politician almost fit to enter the diplomatic line.’ While England tried to control the war with money, the impecunious continentals did not join the common cause with any enthusiasm. As he told Elliot, the excuses offered were frivolous.48 The newly arrived Neapolitan flotilla was proving awkward, needing an endless supply of flattery and patience to direct. The effort was necessary, though, because the Neapolitan craft were the only ones that could keep the French oared gunboats off the Austrian flank.49

  With Hotham’s tenure of office coming to an end, and the Austrians slipping further and further into absolute apathy, Nelson was ready for peace. The conduct of the Court at Vienna and failure of the latest émigré landings in Brittany were the final straw. If the French wanted a Republic they should be allowed to make their own choice. He despised all Frenchmen, of whatever politics: they were all ‘false and treacherous’, while Continental alliances were futile.50 A cruise along the French coast in late October threw up some useful intelligence. The French sailors had all deserted, leaving the fleet immobile, but half the army from the Pyrenees was en route to Italy, some twenty thousand men, while new barracks for another eighty thousand were being built at Avignon. In defiance of the dictates of sound finance France was funding the war by depreciating the paper currency, but food was plentiful.51

  A theatre commander with such insights might have been able to act, but Nelson was still tied to his task. Vice Admiral Hyde Parker had taken over the fleet, to await Admiral Jervis. Nelson renewed his call for a commodore’s pendant. He did not expect to remain when the new man took over, so the pendant would have been a positive conclusion to his Mediterranean service. Not that he was going to let anyone ignore his work. The Austrians requested his aid on their seaward flank, expecting an attack, but the holding ground was poor, and he could only promise to come when called. Instead he had to act at Genoa, where French vessels, protected by Genoese neutrality had captured an Austrian command post with a large pay chest and returned to the port. This was blatantly un-neutral behaviour by the Genoese: Nelson and Drake demanded that the ships be disarmed and that Genoa satisfy the Austrians for the outrage. This was quickly granted. Genoa’s pro-French policy was not damaged by a concession to force majeure.

  Making the excuse that Hyde Parker was at sea with the fleet, Nelson copied his report to the Admiralty.52 He wanted to make a name for himself before he got home, and cared little about the protocol. In part, his insubordinate behaviour reflected a promising political opportunity back in England. The offer of a seat in Parliament was in the air, but Nelson would only accept it on certain conditions. He wanted to come in on the Portland interest, the mainstream Whig faction that had come into coalition with Pitt in 1794. He wanted to sit for the same borough as his friend Lord Hugh Seymour-Conway, already a naval lord, ‘where the same Admiralty interest will support us both’.53

  Already expecting to be recalled, and well aware that a seat in Parliament was an excellent lever with which to secure a prime appointment, Nelson may have overplayed his hand. He soon had work enough on the Riviera. Just when he thought both armies were going into winter quarters, the French assembled a flotilla of small craft, appearing likely to withdraw. Nelson asked Hyde Parker to come and lead, or at least support, an attack. Instead Parker withdrew the squadron. The French attacked at Voltri on 23 November with their usual vigour and speed; ‘the French, half naked, were determined to conquer or die’. Without his smaller craft, and forced to keep Agamemnon in Genoa harbour to stop the French using the ships in harbour to outflank the retreating Habsburg army, there was no effective naval support for De Vins. Well aware that he would be used as a scapegoat for the defeat, Nelson was anxious to set out his version of events.54 He blamed Hyde Parker for failing to come to the bay before the attack, when a suitable force could have stopped the operation.

  The Austrians retreated from the coast, allowing the French to reoccupy Vado Bay. Into this unfortunate scene came Admiral Jervis, ‘to the great joy of some and sorrow of others in the fleet’.55 Knowing how important first impressions can be, Nelson quickly provided his new Commander in Chief with a resumé of the Vado Bay campaign, and the politico-military position after the Austrian defeat.56 Still expecting to go home, Agamemnon being too rotten to remain, Nelson was looking for peace. He was pleased to hear that Sir Charles Middleton had left the Admiralty over the supercession of an aged and timorous admiral. This suggested that Earl Spencer’s Admiralty was looking for young, aggressive officers.57

  Nelson understood that the new type of war would require aggression, insight and resolve, with high political courage and a good relationship with the ministers, both in theatre and at home. However, he had not yet fully appreciated just how far those half-naked French soldiers had raised the stakes of war, and transformed its methods. Hotham’s timid half-measures had failed; an entirely different approach would be needed if the fleet was to retain any influence in a theatre where land and sea power were evenly matched, by nature and topography. The extent to which the new admiral, Jervis, could replace his old Lord was uncertain

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  The degree to which both Hood and Jervis influenced Nelson’s career and thought can hardly be overstated.58 Though Nelson admired many of his captains, fine seamen and brave warriors like William Locker and Peter Parker, it was the great fleet commanders who did most to shape his approach to war. He had consciously sought the patronage of Hood, the leading strategist and tactician in the service, in 1782, before relocating his admiration and amb
ition onto the more durable figure of ‘Old Jarvie’ in 1796. He thus stepped neatly from one stream of opportunity to the next, changing his methods and sensibilities to match the new mood. Between them, the two men provided him with the practical training and inspiring example necessary to complete his education.

  Of the two admirals, Samuel, Viscount Hood59 was the more obvious source of inspiration, and he remained the dominant intellectual influence on Nelson’s professional career. Hood’s patronage nourished his aspirations in 1782, and helped to keep his career afloat during the turbulent years that separated the American War of Independence from the French Revolution. He and Nelson had much in common. Both were the sons of country parsons, reliant on a good start and their own merits to transform a steady career into rank, reward and public fame.

  Hood’s perspective on war was invariably offensive, seeking battle through active operations, anxious to engage the enemy wherever encountered, and without hesitation. He understood that battle had many purposes: blocking a superior force, securing trade or possessions or, when the opportunity arose, annihilation. He also saw that any engagement was only part of a campaign, and that it should be exploited to the fullest extent. His greatest achievements at sea – off St Kitts, in Frigate Bay and the Saintes – only hinted at the rich vein of insight and acumen that informed his approach to battle. Whenever the enemy offered the chance he was anxious to attack, to concentrate force against part of their formation, crush it and move on. He believed in an open blockade, and preferred drawing the enemy out to sea for battle, so that they could be destroyed. Here his ideas were in complete contrast to those of Jervis, whose close blockade proved to be the key to the very different war that emerged after 1795. Hood was an eighteenth-century admiral, ideally suited to limited wars where a single battle could decide the outcome, or at least the terms.