Nelson the Commander

by Bennett, Geoffrey

  After the battle the British fleet went first to Lagos Bay, then to the Tagus, whilst Nelson was sent into the Mediterranean with three ships-of-the-line to complete the evacuation of Elba in a convoy that was fortunate to avoid interception by a stronger French force. At Gibraltar, on his return, occurred an incident, small in itself, but confirmation of the wise diplomacy that Nelson had practised when working in support of the Austrians off Genoa.

  'The Consul of the [neutral] United States had to apply to him for the protection of twelve American merchant ships, then at Malaga, against the probable depredations of French privateers. . . . Nelson at once complied, ordering a British frigate to go to Malaga and escort the vessels to the Barbary coast, and even out of the Straits if necessary. In doing this he wrote courteously to the Consul: 'I am sure of fulfilling the wishes of my Sovereign, and I hope of strengthening the harmony which at present so happily subsists between the two nations.' (Mahan in his Life of Nelson.)

  - This less than twenty years after Britain's American colonies had fought so determinedly to secure their independence.

  So that he could blockade the Spanish fleet in Cadiz, St Vincent received reinforcements from Home waters. Among these the 74-gun Theseus replaced the damaged Captain. Nelson's initial reaction to his new flagship, to which he transferred in May, was of two-fold dismay: she had come out destitute of stores of every kind, and her ship's company had played a prominent role in the 'breeze at Spithead' that disrupted the Channel fleet in April. Helped by Ralph Miller, Nelson met this challenge with all his vigour. Within a fortnight the Theseus's material deficiencies had been remedied; and this note had been found, dropped on her quarterdeck:

  'Success attend Admiral Nelson. God bless Captain Miller. We thank them for the officers they have placed over us. We are happy and comfortable, and will shed every drop of blood in our veins to support them, and the name of the Theseus shall be immortalized as high as the Captain.'

  It was signed, 'Ship's Company'. And even if one allows for the success of the Spithead mutiny in compelling the Admiralty to remedy the grosser injustices under which the Royal Navy had suffered for too long, and the men's sense of shame that this 'strike' had led on to something akin to a 'bloody revolution' in the North Sea fleet at the Nore, Nelson must have been something more than an exceptional leader to impress his personality so quickly upon the Theseus's crew. He must have had 'star quality'.

  For contrast, the captain of the St George had so much trouble with his ship's company that four of them were tried by court martial in July. Found guilty and sentenced to death, St Vincent ordered these men to be hanged at the yard-arm as soon as the fleet could be assembled to watch, which chanced to be on a Sunday. His second-in-command, Vice-Admiral Thompson, 'presumed to censure the execution on the Sabbath'. He was immediately ordered to strike his flag. Nelson had a better understanding of his Commander-in-Chief's inflexible determination to ensure that the malaise that had afflicted the Fleet in Home waters did not infect his own: 'had it been Christmas Day instead of Sunday, I would have executed them. . . . Now your discipline is safe', was his terse comment.

  Shortly before this episode, in June, St Vincent demonstrated his belief that in Nelson he had a young admiral of exceptional quality. Although the most junior of his flag officers, he entrusted him with command of an inshore squadron that included as many as half of his twenty ships-of-the-line. And with these, on the nights of 3 and 5 July, Nelson conducted vigorous bombardments of Cadiz.

  'During this service the most perilous action occurred in which [Nelson] was ever engaged. Making a night attack upon the Spanish gunboats, his barge was attacked by an armed launch . . . carrying 26 men. Nelson had with him only ten . . . men, Captain Fremantle, and his coxswain . . . who twice saved the life of his Admiral by parrying the blows that were aimed at him, and at last actually interposed his own head to receive the blow of a Spanish sabre. . . . Notwithstanding the great disproportion of numbers, 18 of the enemy were killed, all the rest wounded, and their launch taken.' (Southey in his Life of Nelson.)

  But such heroisim did not, as was hoped, persuade the Spanish fleet to come out: their reaction was to withdraw from the outer harbour to the greater safety of the inner one.

  Convinced by this that the enemy was unlikely to sortie for so long as a British fleet remained in the area, St Vincent decided that he could spare some of his ships to take the offensive elsewhere. Back in April Nelson had pressed to be employed on some more vigorous service than the tedious duty of maintaining the blockade. In particular, he had conceived a plan for an attack on Santa Cruz in the Canary Islands. Following the example of Drake and Hawkins, Blake had descended upon this port near the northern tip of Tenerife in 1657, and captured, burnt and sunk as many as sixteen Spanish vessels, including six laden with silver. He had, however, been lucky with the wind. The north-east Trade, which blew strongly all the summer, favoured a swift descent upon the harbour, but could not be depended upon to shift and come offshore in time to ensure a safe withdrawal. For this and other reasons, Nelson opposed a raid by ships alone. Remembering Bastia and Calvi, he suggested that General de Burgh's 3,700 troops, which had been unemployed since the evacuation of Elba, should be landed under cover of night. Since Santa Cruz was without protection, except for three forts, these should be able to enforce capitulation in three days at most. Moreover, Nelson argued, such a combined operation would require only 'a very small squadron'.

  St Vincent could not authorize this operation because de Burgh refused to allow his troops to be employed on such a venture: nor would General Charles O'Hara, commanding the Gibraltar garrison, the only other British military force in the area, part with any of his men. June had, however, brought stimulating news: on 29 May the frigates Lively and Minerve descended on Santa Cruz, and their boats, directed by Lieutenant Hardy, managed to cut out the French frigate Mutine under heavy fire in broad daylight. And when this news was followed by a report that a richly laden treasure ship had reached Santa Cruz from Manila, St Vincent was persuaded to ask Nelson if he would attempt, not the combined operation he had suggested, but a naval attack such as he had advised against. And Nelson was likewise encouraged to answer that, given two hundred extra marines for a landing party, 'with "General Troubridge" ashore and myself afloat, I am confident of success'.

  Such was the genesis of an expedition for which this squadron parted company with St Vincent's fleet on 15 July 1797:

  Theseus, 74 - Captain R. Miller

  Culloden, 74 - Captain T. Troubridge

  Zealous, 74 - Captain S. Hood (6)

  Leander, 50 - Captain T. Thompson

  Seahorse, frigate, 38 - Captain T. Fremantle

  Emerald, frigate, 36 - Captain T. Waller

  Terpsichore, frigate, 32 - Captain R. Bowen

  Fox, cutter, 10 - Lieutenant T. Gibson

  St Vincent's orders to its commander were concise. Nelson was to proceed to Tenerife and capture Santa Cruz as expeditiously as possible; he was to seize the Spanish treasure ship and its cargo, and capture or destroy all other enemy vessels; 'and having performed your mission, you are to make the best of your way back to me'. 'Ten hours shall either make me a conqueror or defeat me', was Nelson's characteristic answer.

  As the squadron neared the island, with its cloud-capped mountain peak, five days later, Nelson planned a surprise attack. His three frigates were to close Santa Cruz after nightfall. Their boats, with muffled oars, would land a force of marines and seamen soon after midnight on the beaches to the north-east of the town, from where they could gain the cover of Lion's Mouth Valley. As soon as they were assembled there, Troubridge would lead this force for an assault before daybreak, using special scaling ladders, starting with the most easterly fort. At dawn Nelson's 74s would close the port and support the attack with their broadsides. The two forts to the east having been taken, the Governor would be expected to surrender.

  This plan went badly awry: the elements proved how little they could be
trusted to play their part in ensuring success. As the Theseus and her consorts entered Santa Cruz shortly before sunrise, Nelson saw that Troubridge's boats were still as much as a mile from the chosen landing place: a strong offshore wind and current had delayed the arrival of the frigates until well into the middle watch, and had hindered even more the passage of the troop-laden boats to the beach. Troubridge boarded the flagship: should the attack continue now that surprise had been lost and the defenders alerted ? (One notes here the difference in calibre between Nelson and Troubridge: for all the latter's merits, had Nelson been in the subordinate position he would never have wasted time in consulting his superior as to the wisdom of continuing the attack.) Nelson's answer was a determined yes. But the weather remained adverse, increasing to a full gale, so that neither that day nor during the ensuing night did Troubridge have any success. And before dawn on the 24th, the British squadron was compelled to stand away from the island, the 74s with their topmasts struck, the frigates with their boats rehoisted, and every seaman and marine re-embarked.

  'Foiled in my original plan', by 'natural impediments' such as he had originally foreseen, many a man would have abandoned the attack. But it was not in Nelson to admit defeat: 'confident there is nothing which Englishmen are not equal to, and confident in the bravery of those who would be employed', he resolved to make a fresh attempt, this time a direct attack upon the town itself. And he would not leave this to Troubridge; he would lead it himself, 'a forlorn hope . . . I never expected to return'. But first he must mislead the enemy. At 5.30 pm on the evening of the 24 July he anchored his squadron two miles to the north-east of the port: supposing that the British intended to assault the two forts, the Spaniards hurriedly withdrew troops from the town to reinforce them. Darkness having fallen, some 700 seamen and marines were embarked in the squadron's boats, 180 more in the cutter Fox, and a further 80 in a captured Spanish vessel. Organized in six divisions, with Nelson leading the centre, these craft headed for the mole. All had orders to land and make for the town's principal square. Pitch darkness and a heavy sea veiled their approach from the enemy: Nelson's division was within half-gunshot of the mole before the alarm was given and they were met by a hail of grape and canister. Nonetheless, Captains Thomas Thompson, Thomas Fremantle and Richard Bowen landed their men, overwhelmed the mole's defenders, who numbered as many as 500, and spiked its six 24-pounder guns. But against such odds they could go no further; 'we were nearly all killed or wounded'.

  One of these was Nelson. In the act of drawing his sword as he stepped out of his boat (according to one account; whilst pressing forward along the mole, according to another), grape shattered his right elbow, his fourth wound in as many years. Senseless, he was laid in the bottom of a boat where Josiah saved his step-father's life, first by applying a tourniquet, then by collecting a crew to take him back to his flagship. The boat was no sooner headed seawards than the cutter Fox was hit by cannon fire below water and seen to be sinking. Nelson, having recovered consciousness, insisted that Josiah should pick up survivors, so that the best part of an hour elapsed before the boat reached the anchored Theseus, where he showed stoic disregard for his wound. (7) Crying to those who would have helped him, 'Let me alone! I have got my legs left, and one arm,' he twisted a rope round his left arm and hauled himself inboard. His wounded arm was immediately amputated, 'very high, near the shoulder'. Almost unbelievably, when it be remembered that he had to suffer the pain and shock of this without benefit of anaesthetic, on top of what he had undergone for more than an hour from the wound itself without benefit of any painkiller, Nelson was able to give orders to his flag captain, 'as if nothing had happened', just half-an-hour later. Assuredly, he was no ordinary man.

  A very different fate befell the rest of the landing force. Troubridge and Thomas Waller lost their way in the darkness and rain, their boats being driven into the surf pounding the rocks to the south of the town. Some escaped to seawards, but many struck, filled and sank: only a few were safely beached, to land less than fifty men. But with these both captains fought their way to the town's central square. There, with the prisoners they had taken, they waited anxiously for reinforcements. After a little while came news that Captains Samuel Hood and Ralph Miller had landed even further to the south. But of Nelson, Thompson, Fremantle and Bowen there was no news, only the crack of cannon fire and the rattle of musketry concentrated on the mole.

  At dawn Troubridge and Waller led their small party out from the square to join Hood and Miller. Together they had 340 seamen and marines, enough they supposed for an assault on the citadel. But as soon as they advanced, they were surrounded by as many as 8,000 Spanish troops, who were of tougher quality than the men who manned their Fleet. They faced, too, forty French-manned field pieces. A fight against such odds was out of the question - but so was unconditional surrender. Troubridge's solution was a magnificent gamble. At 7 am he sent Hood with a flag of truce to the Governor: unless he provided sufficient transport for the British force to re-embark from the mole, without opposition, and allowed them to return to their ships with colours flying, the town would be burned. Don Juan Antonio Gutierrez was so taken aback by this effrontery from an enemy who was clearly at his mercy, that he agreed - on condition that the British squadron ceased to bombard the town, as it was doing now under Nelson's direction - and undertook no further hostile action against any of the Canary Islands. At 9 am all gunfire ceased: by noon the embarkation had begun.

  'And here [wrote Nelson] it is right we should notice the noble and generous conduct of . . . the Spanish Governor. The moment the terms were agreed to, he directed our wounded men to be received into the hospitals, and all our people to be supplied with the best provisions that could be procured; and made it known that the ships were at liberty to send on shore and purchase whatever refreshments they were in want of during the time they might be off the island.'

  Thanks to Troubridge, this was the not inglorious end to an operation which cost the lives of seven officers and 139 seamen and marines, with five officers and a hundred seamen and marines wounded; in all a quarter of the landing force; an operation which had been a total failure. (8) No one was more conscious of this than its commander: to quote from his letter to St Vincent, one of the first written with his left hand: 'I am become a burthen to my friends and useless to my country. . . . When I leave your command, I become dead to the world; "I go hence and am no more seen". . . . I hope you will be able to give me a frigate to convey the remains of my carcase to England.' Such despondency is partly explained by a postscript: 'I am in great pain.'

  One may speculate whether the result would have been otherwise if Nelson had not been wounded. It is arguable that, under his vigorous leadership, the survivors from the two divisions that landed on the mole would have gained the town's central square. But it is impossible to accept Nelson's statement that, 'had I been with the first party, I have reason to believe complete success would have crowned our efforts'. His initial plan, a flank landing similar to those that he had made at Bastia and Calvi, might have surprised and overwhelmed the defenders. But when this was frustrated by the weather, a frontal attack by a force of no more than 1,000, which must be decimated in the initial assault, would have had small chance of capturing a town defended by so many seasoned troops; for like Rome's Legions, Madrid deployed her best ones overseas.

  Nor is the failure to be blamed only on the weather: Nelson cannot be absolved from attempting a naval attack, without troops, since he had previously advised so strongly against one for the very reasons that foiled him of success. His more serious mistake was, however, the frontal assault which came so near to disaster. This was more than an error of judgment; it was as foolhardy as his youthful failure to retake Turks Island from the French in 1783.

  Why, then, was Nelson so impetuous? Ambition was not this time the reason. Three words which he wrote after leaving Tenerife are a sufficient clue, 'My pride suffered'; and as Ruskin wrote later, 'Pride is at the bottom of a
ll great mistakes.' The need to defeat the Spanish fleet off Cape St Vincent on 14 February justified the risks taken by Jervis - and by Nelson. But the assault on Santa Cruz was of small importance, attempted only to capture a treasure ship, - except to Rear-Admiral Sir Horatio Nelson, K.B.: to his recently acquired self-esteem it mattered a great deal. To diagnose his fault more bluntly, he was suffering from a swollen head, the consequence of the belated satisfaction of his keen hunger for public recognition of his services. As he himself had written not long before this expedition: 'I have had flattery enough to make me vain, (9) and success enough to make me confident.' And there can be no more dangerous human emotion: it is all too easy for the man who strains to climb the mountain called success to fall into the crevasse that is labelled pride. Nelson must have realized this when, by way of excusing his failure, he could do no better than refer to it as 'a forlorn hope . . . yet the honour of our Country called for the attack'.

  St Vincent did not, however, philosophize thus when the Theseus and her squadron rejoined the fleet off Cadiz on 16 August 1797. 'Mortals cannot command success', were the encouraging words with which he greeted Nelson. He was, too, wise enough to judge the true temper of the latter's words, 'a left-handed admiral will never again be considered as useful, therefore the sooner I get to a very humble cottage the better, and make room for a sounder man to serve the State'. Though he realized that Nelson would have to return to England to recover from his wound, he told the First Lord: 'I have very good ground of hope he will be restored to the service of his King and Country.'

  Still suffering much from the amputated stump of his right arm, Nelson sailed for home in Fremantle's frigate, HMS Seahorse. According to a contemporary journal, 'he was received at . . . Portsmouth on the 1st [September] with a universal greeting [and] reached Bath on Sunday evening . . . to the great joy of his lady and venerable father, and gratification of every admirer of British valour'.