Nelson: Britannia's God of War

by Andrew Lambert

  It was an extensive command: six battleships, all of them small, shallow draught vessels, seven frigates, eleven sloops and brigs, thirty-two gun-vessels, seven bombs, four batteries and seven assorted merchant vessels.4 Many of the larger vessels were old or ex-enemy units, and the smaller craft were of limited value – easily replaced and, like much of the Baltic fleet, expendable. Nelson arrived at Sheerness on 27 July, and within twenty-four hours he had imposed his ideas on the forces in the Thames and Medway – the mastery of navigation of these rivers that he had acquired in the 1770s had not been lost. Aware that he was building the defence system up from the foundations, he was in a hurry to get to Deal, consult Admiral Lutwidge and continue his inspection.5 The easy communication with London, by mail, and the shutter telegraph between London and Deal,6 enabled Nelson to consult the Admiralty on all important issues. This would be his first and only taste of command close to home.

  St Vincent recognised the existing system was a shambles, and was happy for Nelson to restructure it more logically; but he also favoured bombarding Boulogne harbour, if it could be done without undue risk and without damaging Nelson’s health.7 Arriving in the Downs on 30 July, Nelson decided to proceed to the French coast.

  He had consulted local community leaders on the Sea Fencibles, a volunteer corps of maritime professionals who were excused impressment in return for their services in an emergency. It was clear that these men needed to be promised they would not be removed from the coast, and even then they could not afford to give up their jobs until the emergency occurred. He took Captain Edward Owen, a talented coastal commander with excellent local knowledge, and Captain Fyers of the Royal Artillery, who had commanded the bombs at Copenhagen, to see if Boulogne was open to attack.8 While St Vincent read the intelligence as indicating a real threat, Nelson quickly realised the British defences were improving so quickly that it was doubtful if the French would ever leave port.9

  At Boulogne Nelson found only fifty to sixty boats, including many outside the harbour, and he decided to attack with bomb vessels. Nelson had seven bombs under his command, more than half the entire British force of this vital power-projection asset.10 A similar force had been deployed to the Baltic. The conversion of such craft was the most obvious demonstration that the new offensive strategy was based on attacking from the sea, rather than relying on allied armies. While St Vincent warned him not to expect too much from a sea bombardment, he also revealed the thinking that would keep Nelson on this station until the peace was settled:

  Not only this Board, but the Country derives so much confidence from your Lordship’s being at the head of our home defences that apprehension seems to be dispelled from the public mind.11

  On 3 August Nelson tried the bombs, firing a dozen shells before the wind shifted. His object was to destroy the French invasion boats, which struck him as incapable of being rowed or sailed one mile towards England in the face of the existing naval forces.12 The following day the wind shifted to the south-west and he resumed firing. Seven or eight French craft were sunk or badly damaged, and he reassured the Prime Minister that ‘the French army will not embark at Boulogne for the invasion of England’.13

  Satisfied he had shown the enemy they could not come out of harbour without being attacked, he issued a morale-boosting memorandum to the squadron, praising their skill and enthusiasm, before moving on to inspect the Dutch and Belgian port.14 Before he had gone very far, Nelson received Admiralty orders to persuade the Sea Fencibles to go to sea and put back to the Downs. Unwilling as he was to serve as a recruiting officer for the volunteers, he quickly issued a passionate call to arms: when the French meant to invade, every man owed a duty to his country, a duty already being fulfilled by the military volunteers. The seamen’s task was to defend ‘the sovereignty of the Narrow Seas, on which no Frenchman has yet dared to sail with impunity’.15 The combination of patriotic appeal and the land example was well calculated, but ultimately unsuccessful. In truth he was less concerned by the French, now he had been to Boulogne, condemning the current alarm as a fabrication of ‘some scoundrel [French] emigrant’. He thought the Flemish ports a more likely invasion base, but he had yet to visit them,16 and St Vincent agreed:

  I have always been of the opinion that the real attempt of the enemy will be made from the Dutch and Flemish harbours, because of the great number of flat-bottomed vessels constantly employed in the inland navigation of those countries, besides that there is always a large body of troops in them.

  Flushing, however, lay within Admiral Dickson’s North Sea command. The bombardment of Boulogne had achieved more than the Earl had hoped, ‘and much more in raising the spirit of the people here, to a degree not to be conceived’. It was a theme he returned to the following day, by now aware that Nelson was getting restive. ‘The public mind is so very much tranquillised by your being at your post, it is extremely desirable that you should continue there.’ To return to town now ‘would have the worst possible effect at this critical juncture. I will explain farther when we meet.’ The disposition of Sea Fencibles was left to him ‘from the unbounded confidence we repose in you’.17 Troubridge, by contrast, urged him to impress the Fencibles if they would not volunteer – a truly stupid idea, given the sensitivity of seafaring communities to the threat of the press, and the need to build loyalties and patriotism in the present emergency. Nelson decided the best policy was to leave the men alone until an emergency, trusting to their loyalty and self-interest to oppose an invasion. Besides, he was already very confident that the French ‘cannot come’.18

  Anxious to finish this command, which was costing him money he could ill afford,19 he told Emma that he would come ashore by mid-September. Still in thrall to her, he promised not to dine out without her agreement. He longed for the company of the Hamiltons20 – but however pleasant such thoughts were, as they had been when he was writing to Fanny half a decade before, they were but a brief daydream for a mind focused on the enemy, and plotting their destruction. The apologetic tone of his letters to Emma suggests that hers, which he destroyed, often made rather unpleasant reading. When she was not threatening to become the Prince of Wales’s mistress, she was condemning him to stay out of company.21 Fortunately he had more important things to do than discuss trifles with her; he never allowed his emotional torment to affect his professional judgement.

  He was going to look into Flushing, the other potential invasion base, where the blockade was handled by one of his best officers, Edward Owen of the frigate Nemesis. Owen’s mastery of coastal navigation, aggressive instincts and vision would find ample employment in the Channel on either side of the 1802 peace.22 Owen lay off Flushing, reporting seven enemy vessels in roads, including a sixty-four-gun battleship. He believed they could be attacked by boats, but as this required a three-hour row from his current anchorage he was being rather optimistic in the face of strong currents. He was also well aware that the enemy could retreat under the cover of shore batteries or further down the Scheldt. If troops were available he advised taking Flushing or an offshore island; he volunteered for any operation and waited anxiously for Nelson.23 Recognising another ardent spirit, Nelson wanted to attack, but only after a reconnaissance.24

  St Vincent relayed another instalment of the French plan to bluff the British into a hasty and weak peace. Bonaparte had appointed himself Generalissimo of the Army of Invasion, declaring that ‘we look to Flanders for the grand effort’. Consequently Flushing was one of the few places ‘where any enterprise of the kind can be attempted with any reasonable prospect of success’. St Vincent also had the Hydrographer send every scrap of information on the port.25 As might be expected, the old Earl favoured Troubridge’s approach to the reluctant Sea Fencibles if they would not come out in adequate numbers, but he was pleased by Nelson’s delicate handling of the three Port Admirals with whom his command overlapped: ‘It is, in truth a difficult card you have to play. Pray take care of your health, than which nothing is of so much importance to the Count
ry at large.’ The promise of the Mediterranean command remained the bait for Nelson; St Vincent told him that ‘Our negotiation is drawing near its close and must terminate one way or other in the course of a few days, and I need not add how very important it is that the enemy should know you are constantly opposed to him.’26

  As Nelson gathered intelligence from his commanders, he quickly perceived that the enemy had too few craft to mount an invasion. There were only two thousand troops at Boulogne, and boats enough for a mere 3,600 at Ostend. The conclusion was inevitable: ‘Where, my dear Lord, is our Invasion to come from?’ He was developing plans to attack Flushing, but being so close to London he would consult the Earl before risking a major operation. It did not help that he was being publicly ridiculed for this puny mode of warfare. His response would be to lead the fleet into Flushing, if the ministers agreed. agreed. He remained anxious for peace27 The last reference was doubtless his code for getting back to Emma. As he explained to Davison, there was simply nothing to be done ‘on the great scale’.28

  From his station with the Grand Fleet off Brest, Collingwood could see powerful French forces gathering to invade Ireland. But he knew that if they put to sea when the gales had blown the British ships away, they would be unequal to the elements. Nelson would do all he could to destroy the invasion shipping, despite the difficult navigation: ‘however, he will make a fair experiment, and at least let them know what they are to expect when they venture beyond’ their ports.29

  Encouraged by news of the French capitulation in Egypt, added to Saumarez’s victory in the Gulf of Gibraltar, St Vincent recognised peace was close. But he was not going to let his chief asset rest until the deal was done. His show of concern for Nelson’s health was mere formality: he was convinced the ailments were all in the mind, and advised him to ignore the mischevous wits who were mocking his small-scale warfare. ‘Be assured no service whatever can be of greater importance than that Your Lordship is employed in, and, as we have every reason to believe it cannot be of long duration, I trust in God that you will be enabled to go through with it.’ Expecting the main French effort to be aimed at Ireland, with diversionary demonstrations at Dunkirk and Ostend, he would approve anything Nelson proposed with his existing force, but saw no need for consultation.30

  Instead of setting course for Flushing, as everyone was expecting, Nelson had quietly developed a plan to capture or destroy the boats lying outside the harbour at Boulogne. He would have preferred the as yet unseen opportunities of Flushing, but for this he needed troops and other assets that were not available. His orders were highly detailed, using fifty-seven boats in four divisions to overwhelm the twenty-four enemy vessels. It was a large-scale version of the common British practice of cutting out enemy vessels with boats. His purpose was to expose the fraudulent French threat.

  At Boulogne, Latouche Tréville was prepared: having no offensive object, he could deploy all his forces for a strictly defensive action. His preparations paid off: the line of boats outside the pier was prepared and fully manned, with a lot of heavy ground tackle and cables used to secure the craft in position, and to each other. He noted the preparations around the flagship, HMS Medusa, on the afternoon of 15 August, warning his men to expect a night attack. Nelson’s plans were thorough, and would have been successful against most opponents, but this French admiral was a wily old fox. After dark, the four divisions of boats rowed in, but in the darkness they were separated by the wind and tide, arriving in fragments, one division missing the French flotilla altogether. The combination of limited attacking strength and well-prepared defences negated the usual British advantages in skill, daring and determination. One or two boats were carried, but the moorings could not be cut, and the French recaptured them with heavy supporting fire from the shore. Desperate to prove himself, and to earn post rank, Nelson’s young favourite and aide de camp Captain Edward Parker pressed on, but suffered a horrific double fracture of the thigh, and had to be carried away. As the other officers were disabled the attack petered out. Unable to take part – for the want of an arm, rather than from any sense that vice admirals did not engage in boat work – Nelson was forced to wait and peer into the darkness as his men went to work, taking some comfort from writing out his anxieties to Emma.

  By first light it was clear the attack had failed with heavy losses: forty-five killed and 128 wounded from nine hundred men. French losses were ten dead and thirty-four wounded. Nelson was distraught, the defeat compounded by terrible injuries to Parker and another young favourite. However, he rose to the occasion with characteristic flair. He reported the failure, and praised the astonishing bravery of his officers and men. He stressed that the object was worthy of their sacrifice, and passed on a report that the French had moored their vessels with chains. However, he did not flinch from taking full responsibility for the failure. Heavy losses among the best men from Leyden and Medusa would force him to postpone an attack on Flushing.31

  Having read Nelson’s letter and sent it to the King,32 St Vincent knew the defeat would depress Nelson’s spirits. He enlisted Addington to send an encouraging letter, while repeating his own commendation after the failure at Tenerife: ‘It is not given to us to command success’, and noting the ‘zeal and courage’ displayed. Nelson immediately communicated these sentiments to the squadron, and promised to take them to glory, if the French would only cast off their chains.33 While his next letter to Emma still moaned because the Admiralty would not let him come to London on private business, he was already planning another operation.34

  London gossip had it that Nelson attacked with no purpose, on some notion of his own. Even Hood repeated this canard,35 wholly unaware that St Vincent was directing the campaign, leaving only the execution to Nelson. It was also unjust and ignorant. The attack, whatever the outcome, had shown the French that they could not leave ships on the coast without being attacked, and forced them to adopt extensive defensive measures, further reducing the slight possibility of an invasion.

  St Vincent had no doubt it had been worthwhile; he stressed his unquestioning support for anything Nelson planned and the ‘incalculable importance to your country’ of his health. Addington argued that the Boulogne attack had confirmed British naval superiority, ‘disinclining the enemy to contest it’. The losses were to be deplored ‘but they have fallen in a good cause’.36 Nelson agreed: ‘Our loss is trifling, all circumstances considered.’ He explained that St Vincent and Hood disagreed fundamentally on the best method of securing the coast: the former favoured a close watch, the latter pulling back everything onto the English coast apart from fast cutters.37 He preferred offensive action, commending a smart piece of boat work that destroyed six French vessels, and a considerable quantity of naval stores.38

  Flushing remained the preferred target, however. Troubridge sent every scrap of information, and Owen updated his report with new sketches and information. Nelson pressed Owen for more, sending detailed queries, hoping to replace his losses and arrive off Flushing ready for an immediate attack with thirty vessels. He would lead in with the Leyden and Medusa, and other craft would support, buoying the channel as he went.39 When he arrived off Flushing, local pilots declared it impossible to attack or retreat without buoys, a fair wind and a suitable tide. Captain Owen had been too optimistic, ignoring sandbanks and tides: ‘We cannot do impossibilities.’

  The operation was ‘out of the question’. Instead he would assemble a powerful force under Dungeness to counter any French moves. Closer inspection the following day only confirmed his decision, not least from the paucity of ships to be attacked, and the ease with which they could retreat.40 He stressed the impossibility of the operation to Colonel Stewart, who knew as well as any man alive that Nelson would do whatever was possible. He also confessed a growing sense of frustration with his thankless task:

  I know that many of my friends think that my present command is derogatory to my rank. I cannot think that doing my best in the situation I was desired to hold can be s
o. My war, it is true, is against boats; but I have one consolation, that since my command not one merchant vessel has been taken by the enemy.41

  The Earl accepted the decision to give up the attack on Flushing, and doubted the utility of a fireship attack on Boulogne. He let Nelson know that the peace negotiations were coming to a close, and promised to inform him as soon as the terms were settled. The problem would be keeping Nelson in command when he could not attack, and knew that peace was imminent.42 He saw no reason to remain ‘beyond the moment of alarm’.43

  One strategy was the promise of the Mediterranean, which had some basis in reality: St Vincent wrote that the officers of the St George, apart from Hardy, were kept in place ‘to be in the way of his Lordship on a future occasion, which I am not at liberty to communicate’44 – though he meant the Mediterranean, of course. This promise was combined with a little moral blackmail. The Earl employed his trusted lieutenant Nepean to stress the point. Nepean claimed it was his personal opinion that it would be improper for Nelson to leave his post now; it would be ‘an act which might injure you in the opinion of the public’: