On 1 July Nelson ordered that Genoese and Ligurian vessels should be detained until the Admiralty responded to his request of that day for further advice. His rationale for an extended blockade encapsulated British strategy:
It will make the inhabitants severely feel the baneful effects of French fraternity, and in the case of a co-operation with some of the continental powers, will make them ready to throw off the French yoke.
Sea power would squeeze France and her satellites, while steadily increasing economic pressure would break their resolve, weaken Bonaparte’s grip on power and open the way for other states to combine with Britain.15 The ministers were quick to agree.16 Realising the French would try to evade the blockade by using neutral carriers, he sought a legal opinion.17
Nelson took care to send any contentious material through St Vincent, leaving it to his discretion whether it was passed on to the Admiralty Board or the Cabinet. He also explained his views to Lord Moira, the one figure in political circles he admired sufficiently to entrust with his proxy vote. To them he confided his fears. All Italy, save Naples, was already as French as France – Bonaparte clearly meant to recover Egypt and then, ‘sooner or later, farewell India!’ His greatest concern was that the Brest fleet would evade Cornwallis and descend on the Mediterranean, as Bruix and Ganteaume had in 1799 and 1800. If they did, French troops would move quickly, and the entire theatre would be lost beyond recall.18 He relied on his ships in the Straits for adequate warning to bring any French force to action.19
Bonaparte’s response to the outbreak of war, after a volcanic ill-tempered outburst, was to order the occupation of Taranto and the coast of Apulia, as a quid pro quo for the retention of Malta. This operation left General St Cyr’s army ideally placed to march rapidly on Naples, paralysing the already feeble Ferdinand, and also opening a window onto the troubled Balkan and Greek territory of the Turkish Empire. The French might have attempted Sicily, using boats to cross the Straits of Messina, but not while the Royal Navy was at hand. Nelson also placed cruisers off Cape Spartivento, with orders to stop the French moving by sea, at any cost.20
If Bonaparte moved it would be to the east of Italy; Turkey or Egypt were long signalled, more for their diversionary value than any short term ambition. General Sebastiani’s mission to Istanbul, and the insulting publication of his report on Egypt, had been one of the sparks that ignited the war. In both cases the Mediterranean Fleet was the ideal counter-attacking force, but it had to be concentrated, and directed with a degree of insight and vision usually found only in campaigns where a major intelligence advantage has been obtained. In this case the ‘intelligence’ was the product of Nelson’s analytical mind, rather than code-breaking.
Covered by the fleet, British cruisers based at Malta looked after trade, the eastern basin and the Adriatic. Sicily, which fed and supplied Malta, was critical to the British strategic position. To keep the menacing French army in nearby Apulia on the mainland he deployed five cruisers. As he attempted to grasp the enemy’s purpose, Nelson lamented the lack of ten thousand troops – who could have secured British concerns in the theatre and released his fleet for a more dynamic policy – but the men were needed at home, to counter the invasion threat. For an early warning of any French moves against Naples and Sicily, he relied on Elliot, Acton, and the presence of a British battleship in the Bay of Naples, which could repeat his evacuation of 1798. Nelson emphasised to Elliot and Acton that the safety of Sicily was vital: if it fell the Bourbons were finished, but while it held they had a chance. Above all, Sicily must not be risked to save Naples.21 This was the lesson of 1798–9, seared onto Nelson’s consciousness by that awful campaign.
General Villettes, meanwhile, was advised to have his two thousand men ready, but not to worry about baggage: any deployment would be short-term.22 This was all the manpower Britain could spare, and there was little prospect of reinforcement from home – it would be two years before the Army could spare anything more than a handful of drafts from England and Ireland. This left the offensive and defensive burdens of the theatre entirely on Nelson’s shoulders. Naples was feeble and had to bend to France; the Russians occupied the Septinsular Republic (the Ionian Islands) but would not help Naples.In 1804 French pressure removed Acton, leaving the conduct of government to Queen Maria Carolina, an energetic but inconsistent policy-maker who distrusted everyone.
As a fully fledged Commander in Chief, Nelson exercised considerable patronage: he could select junior officers, pick key subordinates, and influence the promotion of those he favoured. Clarence exercised his old friendship to secure a place, and Nelson agreed with him that the son of Admiral Lord Rodney ‘should be a protégé of everyone’.23 Troubridge’s son was in the Victory, suggesting that any animosity generated by Sir Thomas’s over-zealous conduct of Admiralty was temporary.24 Admiral Lord Duncan sent his son Henry, and applied through his fellow Scot Lord Melville for his promotion. Melville sent this request in triplicate: Nelson responded quickly when he heard that old Duncan had died suddenly.25 St Vincent, meanwhile, thought of little else than patronage, sending out a string of recommendations for noble youths, whose relatives had votes and influence. Nelson preferred those like old Sir Peter Parker’s grandson and Lord Hugh Seymour’s son, the progeny of naval friends.26 He also made Minto’s son a post captain.
The key to the next two years of Nelson’s career would be the gathering, sorting and assessment of fragmentary scraps of intelligence from a wide variety of sources. He began well, when Captain Layman took a small French warship, with a remarkable haul of printed documents and books, signal codes for the fleet and the coastal telegraph, tactical and doctrine publications, charts and the state of the French forces off St Domingo.27 Further captures constantly refreshed Nelson’s understanding of the French order of battle.
The conduct of Spain was the single most important question facing Nelson. In peacetime, Spanish beef and onions and lemons from Catalonia were the key to the health of the fleet. But Madrid was in thrall to Bonaparte and likely to go to war sooner rather than later. The British Consuls at Madrid, Ferrol, Cartagena and Cadiz ran an excellent intelligence service, keeping Nelson abreast of the shifting policy of the Spanish ministry, and the state of their fleets. This reduced the need to detail scarce warships to watch Spanish ports.28 Consul Duff at Cadiz promised that ‘nothing shall be wanting on my part to procure and transmit every possible information; but the risk, or rather the certainty of their letters being opened here makes my Agents cautious in their details to me.’ He sent sensitive material by ship.29
Another Consul, Spiridion Foresti in the Russian-occupied Septinsular Republic, was already known and valued by Nelson, who praised his dedication to the Foreign Secretary. While the tiny islands wisely remained neutral, they provided a wealth of material on French-occupied Italy and the Balkan littoral, amply repaying Nelson’s faith.30 Naval agent George Noble provided further insights from the commercial quarter of Naples.31 Nelson’s concerns went far beyond the confines of the middle sea. From India Arthur Wellesley, the future Duke of Wellington, took the time to send news and newspapers reporting his military successes.32
The trusty Davison, meanwhile, kept Nelson abreast of developments in Britain. In June 1803 he sent him a package of books; alongside works of modern history and poetry were several dealing with professional issues: the second edition of Historical Sketches of the Invasions or Descents upon the British Isles by Louis Giradin, a Naval History of the Late War by William Stewart Rose, and speeches by Lord Moira, the independent peer who held Nelson’s proxy vote, and Richard Brinsley Sheridan, the eloquent Whig turncoat who now spoke for the Ministry.33 The books were ‘a treasure’, Nelson replied, and so was Davison, whose links with the fringes of the British secret service, Lord Moira, the Prime Minister and Admiralty Secretary Sir Evan Nepean were invaluable to Nelson.34
Davison also kept an eye on Emma, although it was perhaps not wise of him to report a charming dinner with her and Charles
Greville.35 Now Nelson was back at work, his mistress-wife, child and home quickly assumed the character of a charming daydream: they provided warm memories of better days, but there was no prospect of going home until the job was done. His letters quickly started to resemble those he had written to Fanny in an earlier Mediterranean campaign. They contained more passion and earthly ambition, but that was the Emma effect. But they should not be taken too seriously: he used them to write out his frustrations with the weather, the enemy, the Admiralty and anyone else who had crossed him.
Nelson’s main concern about Emma was to find an alternative means of support for her. Sir William left her with a small settlement – to be paid, with typical irony, by Greville. To supplement this, Nelson assiduously petitioned the Queen of Naples, who simply disowned her old bosom companion, the Duke of Hamilton and the British government. Emma had claims on all three, but none was anxious to help. Instead Nelson was left to hope that a successful commission would pay off his debts, and set them up for the future.36
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When Nelson finally joined the fleet early on 8 July, his experienced eye quickly assessed the situation. The men were excellent, if a little short of complement, with high proportions of prime seamen on all ships. The eight battleships were being run ragged by a close blockade, showing signs of extensive hard service. Several, he soon discovered, needed dockyard attention. The two sixty-fours, Monmouth and Agincourt, were dreadfully slow under sail, ‘and in these times are hardly to be reckoned with’ in battle. Only seventy-fours would do, because they had thirty-two-pounder lower-deck batteries, while the sixty-fours made do with twenty-four-pounders. The French had seven battleships, all seventy-four or eighty-gun ships, with two more completing, five frigates and six corvettes. He could not afford to detach any battleships to patrol off Gibraltar, and was pushed to find one to support the Bourbons at Naples, to offer them a safe retreat.37
Nelson declared his pleasure that Bickerton, ‘a very intelligent and correct officer’, would be remaining. Within two days Nelson had assessed his talents, trusting him to reorganise the convoys and detachments when he went back to Malta. He was equally impressed by Captain Richard Keats, the pick of Clarence’s nominees, and sent him to Naples. While the other captains were competent followers Bickerton and Keats could act alone.38
There was little point trying to run a close blockade of Toulon, since the weather in the Gulf of Lyons was boisterous, as he confessed to St Vincent: ‘I am – don’t laugh – dreadfully sea-sick this day.’39 Furthermore the French had a major tactical advantage. The commanding hills around Toulon allowed them to watch the British far out to sea. To save his ships and disguise his movements, Nelson dropped back forty miles, relying on his cruisers for information. He was prepared to risk the French getting to sea because there were no strategic or economic targets closer than Sicily, Malta and the African coast. If they came out, he was confident he would catch them using his mastery of local weather patterns. Every day Nelson filled in his weather journal, the basic building block of his strategic judgement, and invariably used it to assess the possible destinations of any enemy ships that might get to sea.40
To exploit that knowledge he kept the fleet together while the frigates watched Toulon, rather than detach individual ships and leave his fleet weakened. He also decided that both Gibraltar and Malta were too far away to act as bases. By keeping his entire force together and varying the cruising regime, he hoped to lure the French out, and avoid the monotony that his friends off Brest experienced. The battle squadron would remain fully stored and watered, fit for a long cruise. For twenty-two months his ships waited, an unparalleled feat of management, medical provision, morale-building and will-power. At the Admiralty St Vincent, unable to do more than send an occasional replacement for his craziest hulks, and an inadequate supply of stores, could only marvel that the ‘resources of your mind’ could compensate for such widespread material deficiencies.41 Nelson did not struggle to hold station with his ill-found ships – that way lay disaster. Instead he bent before the storms, left his rendezvous and waited for the weather to break.42
The strategic picture was clearing. Nelson doubted the French would leave Toulon without reinforcements from Brest, but he feared France and Russia were plotting to dismember Turkey.43 His pleasantries and his name bore fruit in Istanbul, from where Drummond reported: ‘The Turkish government has heard with particular pleasure that your Excellency has the chief command in the Mediterranean, your name stands no less here than it does everywhere else.’ The Grand Vizier was highly impressed, while the Sultan had become noticeably more favourable to Britain.44
The final pieces of Nelson’s system fell into place when the Victory reached the fleet on 1 August: Hardy exchanged with Sutton, and quickly hung Nelson’s favourite picture of Emma in the great cabin, alongside one of Horatia.45 The Reverend Alexander Scott served as an ‘interpreter’ in addition to his duties as Nelson’s personal chaplain. Scott was an experienced intelligence officer, having worked in the Mediterranean Fleet since 1793, picking up Spanish and Italian with Hyde Parker and then St Vincent. He was an astonishing linguist: he read captured material in French, Spanish and Italian to Nelson, worked on cyphers, and handled foreign language correspondence. In 1803–5 his work with the Sardinian authorities and local people alone was priceless, while his intelligence-gathering missions to Spain and Naples were a major addition to Nelson’s range of understanding.46
With Hardy to run the ship, George Murray to handle fleet administration and John Scott to deal with English correspondence, Nelson had a fine team. Moreover he had chosen these talented men because he liked them, which made his work far easier. Hardy, known as ‘the ghost’ from his silent perigrinations about the ship, his presence announced by the appearance of a bald head stooped far ahead of his feet, spent so much time walking with the admiral that he adopted Nelson’s pace, rather than his own longer stride. Nelson’s inner circle was completed by his steward Chevalier and servant Gaetano Spedillo, who ministered to his human necessities. If his days were taken up with routine and correspondence, he always found the time for exercise, walking back and forth on the quarter-deck for hours, and he entertained many of his officers over dinner, including the youngest. He would not step off his flagship for two years. It contained everything he needed to control the Mediterranean.
On 1 November the Victory anchored in Agincourt Sound, in the Maddalena Islands, exploiting a fine chart produced by Captain Frederick Ryves of HMS Gibraltar. Further local surveys improved access to the anchorage: now the fleet had a secure base, with ‘water, brooms, sand, onions, some beef, plenty of sheep … but I suppose the French will take it now we have used it’.47 The anchorage was only two hundred miles from Toulon. Here the ships could rest and take on water and fresh victuals. The supply situation needed careful oversight. Food would be drawn from Sardinia and the Barbary coast, while ‘clandestine’ methods secured vital supplies from Spain and even France – Gibraltar and Malta were simply too far away to supply fresh food.48
The arrival of Spanish lemons and onions soon cleared up an incipient outbreak of scurvy. Nelson’s concern with nutrition had been influenced by his lemon-obsessed physician friend Dr Andrew Baird at the Sick and Hurt Board: ‘I am clearly of your opinion that we must not be economical of good things for our sailors, but only take care that they are faithfully supplied.’49 As Nelson explained to Dr Moseley of the Chelsea Hospital, who had treated his eye: ‘The great thing in all military service is health; and you will agree with me, that it is easier for an Officer to keep men healthy, than for a Physician to cure them.’ To Baird’s lemons, Nelson added a personal preference for onions, fresh meat and plenty of fresh water. His own health was, he reported, indifferent, but ‘I must not be sick until after the French fleet is taken.’50
There was nothing seriously wrong with him, frustration and mental over-exertion aside, so he was still telling the same story twelve months later. Although the fleet was rem
arkably healthy, he set up a naval hospital in Malta. This period is striking for Nelson’s painstaking and professional management of his ships and fleets, and his mastery of the routine administration that kept the ships and men ready for a long cruise, a sudden battle or another year at sea. His record of fleet administration provides a rich source of detail on the everyday, the humdrum that was the reality of war at sea. No one else attended to the subject with such dedication.51
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From the outset Nelson considered Sardinia the key to his strategy: it offered the only anchorages close enough to cover, if not blockade, Toulon, watch the Riviera, and intercept the French if they tried to make for the east or the Atlantic. ‘If I lose Sardinia, I lose the French Fleet,’ Nelson explained to Minto.52 His concern that the French might seize it was real enough, after their occupation of Corsica and Elba. Without Sardinia his small force could not secure Sicily, Malta or Egypt. His constant demand that precautions be taken, either by purchase or occupation, finally produced results in March 1805. When troops were available, General Sir James Craig’s instructions included the occupation of Sardinia among the contingencies to be considered, in consultation with Hugh Elliot and Nelson.53
With his strategy in place, Nelson spent the next year keeping everything in tune: ships, men, intelligence, logistics and options were all under constant review. It was a long wait, and offered few opportunities for his talent to flourish, but the nature of total war meant that everyone was prey to such pressures. He longed for the emotional release of battle, endlessly running the permutations of French strategy over in his mind. If his body and emotions were often in turmoil, these were merely the side-effects of concentrated mental commitment over the long months of waiting. The overriding aim was to get inside the enemy’s plans, to out-think them and anticipate their next move. This, and only this, would set up the next battle of annihilation.
Nelson: Britannia's God of War Page 36
