Nelson: Britannia's God of War

by Andrew Lambert

  For the next three months Nelson lived ashore at Palermo, in the Hamiltons’ residence. This offered the political benefits of enabling him to work closely with the British minister and the exiled court. By living ashore, Nelson anticipated the practice of modern theatre commanders: a ship cannot be everywhere at once, and it is better to be at the hub than isolated at some unknown point on the rim of a wide-ranging theatre. But Palermo also offered more tangible and immediate comforts: good food, the society of leading figures and the unalloyed love of his hosts. It is often alleged that Nelson ‘dallied’52 at Palermo, gambling and amusing himself in the company of Lady Hamilton, ‘cutting the most absurd figure possible for folly and vanity’.53 Like most contemporary criticism, these comments came from a man with no personal knowledge of the situation; like any slander it had an element of truth. Nelson was inordinately vain; he loved the trappings of success, the decorations, awards, praises and tributes that showered over his poor battered head after the Nile. But it would be churlish and unrealistic to expect Nelson to have sustained the quasimonastic discipline of his life afloat while his flagship lay at anchor in harbour. After three months of intense mental anguish, and a stunning blow to the head, he needed rest, but his country kept him at work. He was too famous to be granted leave. As for gambling, he is on record as never taking part, while his abstemious views suggest that he was never drunk. The criticisms, on closer inspection, dissolve into the mean-spirited carping of hostile witnesses. He had earned the right to enjoy a little pantomime at the end of the day, even one in which he was the chief character. He knew the difference between such off-duty trifles and the gasconades of Sir Sidney Smith, who all too often accompanied his public actions with ‘a parade of nonsense’.54

  Far from falling under the spell of his hosts, Nelson knew exactly what to expect. When the Queen belatedly sent money to help the Maltese, he advised Ball to have the bags opened and counted in the presence of witnesses, having no faith in the honesty of court officials.55 Nor did he trust Cardinal Ruffo, the astonishing prelate-general and acting head of state. Closely connected by class and origins to many of the leading figures in the ‘Vesuvian’ regime, Ruffo took the view that the sooner the Jacobins were out of office the better, and was quite happy to excuse their error if he could avoid bloodshed, battle or the destruction of property. Such leniency did not accord with Nelson’s view that treason would recur unless suppressed with exemplary force. The King and Queen realised that Ruffo’s actions would undermine their regime, specifically withdrawing his authority to make any treaty or peace with the rebels. They rightly feared he would let the ringleaders escape. With Austria in the war, and the French evacuating Naples, there was no need to compromise with treachery.56

  By early May, Ruffo had Naples surrounded, while Troubridge’s squadron pushed up to the harbour walls. Outlying forts gave up without a fight, and the Jacobins took refuge in the two sea-front forts of Uovo and Nuovo. The remaining French troops wisely occupied Fort St Elmo, which commanded the city, and the other forts. Unable to comprehend the complex agendas of Ruffo and the court, Troubridge concluded that the Neapolitan officers sent to assist him were either fools or cowards. When he was asked to execute captured rebels his famously short temper was held with the utmost difficulty.57 Clearly the Neapolitan authorities were anxious to shift the blame for anything unpleasant that occurred in this period away from themselves onto the slight shoulders of the British admiral. Overnight, however, the picture changed.

  In a bold attempt to recover something from the double disaster of the Nile and the isolation of Bonaparte’s army, the Directory ordered the Brest fleet into the Mediterranean. Admiral Bruix managed to get away without being seen by Bridport’s Channel fleet. Bruix’s orders to attack the allied forces in the theatre were so ringed about with clauses and qualifications as to suggest that he sought an excuse to avoid fighting.58 The prospect of facing St Vincent and Nelson terrified him, and he was hardly comforted by the thought of being linked to a large Spanish squadron.59 Both Bruix and Nelson knew that a combined fleet would be large, cumbersome and vastly inferior in ship handling and fighting qualities to a British force. With so many complex tasks to carry out, Bruix would not risk a battle, because it might cost him his mobility and the mission. So Nelson needed to place his forces between the enemy and their most likely target, confident St Vincent or Admiral Lord Keith would be hurrying along behind them, and confront the French with the choice of fighting his smaller force.

  On 12 May Nelson received word from St Vincent that a French squadron had escaped from Brest and entered the Mediterranean. The attempt to link up with the Spanish at Cadiz failed, and it was now heading for Toulon pursued by a strong British force.60 Recognising the threat to the almost defenceless island of Sicily, Nelson recalled his battleships from Leghorn, Salerno, Naples and Malta, forming a squadron off the western end of Sicily, to cover Palermo, and the blockade of Egypt.61 Nelson returned to Palermo, to cover the blockade of Naples.62 Hourly expecting the summons to join St Vincent off Minorca for a battle, he was being pressed to support the overthrow of the republic by the King and Queen, but this vital operation had to be put on hold until the enemy fleet had been accounted for.

  Nelson was convinced the French would try to link up with the Spanish to attack Minorca and Sicily, the two islands that enabled the British fleet to operate in the Mediterranean. This may have given too much credit to the strategic insight of the enemy, but it was the worst-case scenario. Losing both islands would force another 1796 evacuation. He reckoned on nineteen French and up to twenty-five Spanish ships. Acting with customary speed and foresight he left Duckworth to decide whether to remain off Minorca with his eight or ten sail, or link up with St Vincent, advising him to keep at sea and not allow himself to be trapped in harbour. Duckworth would be joined by Troubridge and Ball, with the battleships from Naples and Malta. Even the Portguese were drawn in, to make up the numbers. Nelson, acutely conscious of the strategic situation, and panting for another battle, stayed put at Palermo because ‘this island appears to hang on my stay’. Once again, though, there were sound strategic considerations behind this apparently eccentric priority. St Vincent, Keith or Duckworth were all capable of beating the enemy fleet, but if Sicily fell in his absence then any battle would have been no more than a glorious distraction.

  Nelson felt almost physically sick at having to defend the key island rather than lead the battle by seeking out the enemy, as he had a year ago. He elected to hold his position and fight once Duckworth and Ball had joined. Desperate to locate the enemy and his own ships, he detached the talented George Cockburn in his only frigate. Without his squadron he was outnumbered ten to one and could not fight with any hope of success. Yet even if, as appeared inevitable, he and his squadron were ‘destroyed, I have little doubt but the Enemy will have their wings so completely clipped they may be easily overtaken’.63 It was true that against Nelson, with Troubridge, Hood, Louis and Hallowell in support, the inevitable Franco-Spanish victory would have been purchased at the cost of any strategic mission. Their sacrifice would have lived for ever, a fact that Nelson would have relished. But the cost of such a battle was forcibly impressed upon him by Hallowell, who chose that day to present him with a coffin made from the mainmast of L’Orient, ‘that when you are tired of this life you may be buried in one of your own trophies’.64

  Nelson’s plan was predicated on his missing ships linking up: he expected to fight forty enemy ships with ten of his own. Though we do not know what the plan was, it would have exploited the advantage of a small, coherent and brilliantly handled force. There was even a fireship, which Nelson expected to use. He may have reflected on ‘Cornwallis’s Retreat’, the finest tactical defensive action of the age.65 Perhaps he considered the germ of the Trafalgar plan: destroying the enemy’s cohesion, or their rigging – the ‘wings’ they needed to continue their cruise. The failure of his detached squadrons to join left him depressed. Even if the enemy came,
he would be too weak to fight effectively – not that this would stop him.66

  Having explained his inner thoughts to Emma, Nelson sent Fanny two sentences, neither of which rose above the matter of fact.67 This disparity symbolised the end of his marriage, and the passion that would rule the rest of his private life. Emma was a high-profile public figure at the heart of the Anglo-Neapolitan alliance, a member of the inner circle of court. Nelson needed something more than quiet in his private affairs, and Emma was happy to provide a heady mix of adlation, attachment and action. Quite when he understood the depth of their relationship is unknown, but there was a growing intimacy, shared confidences, time alone, and a sense of deprivation when they were finally parted. It was, he lamented, ‘to go from the pleasantest society to a solitary cell’.68 He never wrote to Fanny like that.

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  Just as he had anticipated Bruix did not deign to trouble him. Unsettled by Keith’s smaller force off Cadiz and battered by a storm, he headed for the safety of Toulon. Nelson was quick to resume his primary mission: the security of Sicily and the reconquest of Naples.69 Just in case the enemy did arrive, he moored his eleven battleships across Palermo Bay in close order. He did not repeat Brueys’ mistake. From Naples Bay Captain Foote reported an attack by the ships of the rebel commander, Caracciolo, and expected it would be repeated in greater force.70 Nelson explained the strategic situation to Foote. The French were, as Nelson had expected all along, heading for Toulon, the Spanish were off Cape de Gatte, and St Vincent’s fleet near Barcelona. It now seemed likely the enemy would escape, leaving nothing but ‘the torment of blockading’. On this head, and many more, he was anxious to hear from St Vincent.71

  When Duckworth reached Palermo on 6 June with four sail, including his long-awaited new flagship, the eighty-gun Foudroyant, Nelson was ready to go to Naples.72 He was distressed to hear that the Earl was going home, worn to a shadow by four seasons of theatre command. Desperate for his support, more as a shield against anyone else than for anything positive he had been able to effect recently, Nelson begged him to stay, in a pair of emotionally charged letters that veered between blackmail and bribery. The war was nearly over, Emma would nurse him. But it was no good, St Vincent was too ill to ‘hold a trust which I cannot exercise’ – or at least that was his argument.73 In truth he wanted the Channel Command.74

  On 10 June Ferdinand and Maria Carolina begged Nelson to go to Naples, and take control of the situation with authority to act in the King’s name and settle the business. But Nelson insisted that ‘I will not risk a mast of any one of the squadron’ – while there were enemy fleets at large this was wise. After embarking a small Neapolitan army Nelson left on the 12th. On 14 June, Nelson received a letter from the new Commander in Chief, Admiral Lord Keith, warning him that the enemy fleet, fresh from Toulon, had a fair wind to come down on his position, while the British fleet was unable to follow.75 Keith detached two seventy-fours to reinforce Nelson, and spread his fleet to locate the enemy, but allowed St Vincent’s orders to protect Minorca to override his judgement, and left Nelson to cover the central position with an inferior force.76 With customary speed Nelson returned to Palermo, disembarked the troops and headed for the rendezvous off Maritimo, ready to fight thirty enemy ships, three of them three-deckers, with sixteen of his own, including three Portuguese units. He recalled Ball, but was determined to attack whenever the opportunity arose. It was the best defence for Sicily and Naples. He was disgusted by Keith’s feeble conduct in being put off by the wind when within hours of the French, and to make matters worse Keith had not sent enough ships to join the fleet off Sicily.77

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  A few days earlier Ruffo’s ‘army’ had driven the last remnants of the rag-tag republican army into the city, where they took refuge in the castles, leaving the city to the far-from-tender mercies of the peasants and the royalist townspeople. Anyone suspected of Jacobin sympathies was fair game for the most barbarous revenge, and Ruffo was unable to restrain these elemental forces, or to attack the castles. The commanding position of Castel St Elmo was held by five hundred French troops; the two smaller forts were occupied by Parthenopean troops and sympathisers. On 19 June Chevalier Micheroux, a Neapolitan envoy with the Russian detachment, granted the rebels an armistice. Ruffo had not been consulted, and was placed in a very awkward position. He rebuked Micheroux, but let the armistice stand, and on 22 June Micheroux drew up a capitulation. The terms were of little value, as they left St Elmo in French hands, and would do nothing to help if an enemy fleet arrived. The convention was fundamentally flawed because neither Micheroux nor Ruffo had the authority to negotiate with the rebels. Although Ruffo knew this he did not tell the Jacobins. Aware he was acting outside his authority, he did not write to his master in Palermo between 17 and 21 June, when he tried to prepare the way for an unauthorised and illegal treaty.

  Rumours of Ruffo’s actions had already reached Palermo, and Nelson was once more urged to go to Naples to end the business. He was unwilling to abandon his strategic position while the French and Spanish fleets were unaccounted for, but agreed to take the risk for no more than eight days.78 On 21 June the State Council in Palermo agreed that Nelson would proceed to Naples with Hamilton to secure the unconditional surrender of the forts. There would be no negotiations.79 Nelson left that day, rejoined his squadron on 22 June and set course for Naples. While on passage, however, he learnt that the rebels had been granted an armistice for twenty-one days, after which period they would evacuate the castles and be taken to France, if the French fleet did not come to their aid in the interval. The Jacobin leaders, more in hope than expectation, persuaded themselves that the French fleet really was coming, despite the contemptuous attitude of the French army, and the blatant way in which the country had been plundered to fund the war elsewhere. When they heard the French actually were at sea, the rebels broke the armistice which Ruffo had granted them, largely to prevent further destruction in a city already full of Calabrian peasants and local lazzaroni bent on plunder and anarchy.

  The situation cried out for firm leadership. Nelson’s state of mind was obvious: ‘having ever found the conduct of these Italians weak and indecisive’, he would go and finish the job. ‘Let no one oppose me,’ he told Hamilton, and he would settle the business in eight days: ‘it will finish the War.’80 Once he learnt that a detachment of the Channel fleet had reached the Straits to reinforce Keith, he was ready to run some risks.81 To persuade the Jacobins that the French fleet was not coming he carefully positioned his ships to make the point to those ashore,82 mooring his ships in a tight line across the harbour.83

  Nelson rightly considered an armistice to be revocable by either side, on the arrival of fresh forces. His arrival, or that of the French fleet, would put an end to the situation existing when the terms were agreed. He believed that the French should give up within two hours and be sent home, and that the rebels must surrender to the mercy of their lawful sovereign. On his arrival he signalled Foote to annul the truce, and when informed that a formal capitulation had been agreed, maintained his determination to secure the immediate surrender of the castles. Unlike Ruffo, he had full power to act in the King’s name, and was privy to his most recent thoughts. In addition, as the treaty had not been carried into effect, and the rebels were still in the castles, it could be annulled. On 25 June Ruffo refused to send Nelson’s ultimatum to St Elmo, to warn the rebels that they had no option but to surrender to the King’s mercy, or to assist the attack on St Elmo. However, he did admit that Nelson had the authority to overrule him. Nelson, knowing the views of the King, and the Queen, was well aware that Ruffo and Micheroux’s treaty would be unacceptable in Palermo. He immediately sent a fast ship back to Palermo for further Royal orders.

  Finding himself in an awkward position, largely through Micheroux’s action and his own weakness, Ruffo now tried to slip out of his unauthorised treaty, warning the rebels that it would not be carried out and advising them to retreat inland. This, as he knew
, was quite impossible. If caught outside the castles they would be massacred by the lazzaroni. By the end of the day Ruffo was coming round to Nelson’s position, accepting his offer to land marines. The following morning Nelson agreed to carry out the terms of Ruffo’s armistice, and the two rebel castles were evacuated. Knowing they could not escape by land, the rebels boarded small ships in the harbour in the hope of slipping away under cover of darkness. Some did escape. There is no contemporary evidence that Nelson ever told the rebels anything other than that they must surrender to the King, and on three separate occasions he explicitly stated that the rebels surrendered unconditionally.84 They had no option: the castles would have fallen in a day or two, when the garrisons would have been slaughtered. The French troops in St Elmo were in an altogether different position. They were subject to the conventions of war, and were repatriated. The Queen reminded Nelson of the parallels with the Irish rebellion of 1798, when the small French contingent had been sent home but the Irish rebels left to the King’s none too tender mercy.85

  On 27 June a solemn Te Deum was celebrated, and Ruffo thanked Nelson and Hamilton for rescuing him from an awkward position. But Nelson’s ‘truce’ with Ruffo ended early the following day when letters arrived from Palermo. The King, Queen and Prime Minister rejected all conditions and ordered Ruffo to abide by Nelson’s instructions. Nelson immediately seized the rebel ships, and took several prominent Jacobins into safe custody. Once again Ruffo refused to act, and attempted to hamper the arrest of the suspects. Nelson even considered arresting him, a step for which he had full authority, but agreed with Sir William that it would be best to avoid trouble and await the return of the King.86 Two days later Ruffo received royal orders to follow Nelson’s measures; despite ample evidence of his supreme authority Nelson wisely chose not to humiliate Ruffo, who already knew he had displeased his King and exceeded his mandate. In a typically magnanimous gesture, Nelson spoke up for the Cardinal, and invited him on board the Foudroyant.