Chapter 15

The importunities of Horatia's mother were continuously being forced upon Nelson in one way or another, but he seems to have stood firm, in an apologetic way, to the instructions laid down by himself, that no women were to go to sea aboard his ship; for, having been a party to the embargo, it would have been impossible for him to make her an exception. He anticipates, as her other lovers had done, that she can be very angry, like Horatia, when she cannot have her own way, but he soothingly says that he knows his own dear Emma, if she applies her reason, will see that he is right. He playfully adds an addendum that "Horatia is like her mother, she will have her own way, or kick up the devil of a dust." He reminds Emma that she is a "sharer of his glory," which settles the question of her being allowed to sail with him, and from encountering the heavy gales and liquid hills that are experienced off Toulon week after week. He warns the lady that it would kill her and himself to witness it. Emma was too devoted to all the pleasures ashore to risk losing her life in any such uncomfortable fashion at sea, so the project was abandoned, if it was ever seriously contemplated.

This astute actress knew where to touch Nelson's weak spot, and that it would send him into a frenzy of love to think of her yearning to be beside him. She would know that the rules of the Service prohibited, except under special circumstances, even the highest in rank from having their wives sail with them, and that the rule would apply more rigidly to herself, who was not Nelson's wife. She knew, in fact, that her request would flatter him, and that she would be compensated by receiving a whirlwind of devotion in reply. After the Gulf of Lyons days, no further request appears to have been made of that kind.

The combined fleets had been dodging each other on the 20th, light westerly winds and calms prevailing. At daylight on the 21st the belligerent fleets were within twelve miles of each other. Nelson was on deck early, and at 7.40 a.m. made the signal "To form the order of sailing," and "To prepare for battle." Then the signal was made to "Bear up," the _Victory_ and _Royal Sovereign_ leading the way in two lines; Nelson took the weather line with his ships, and the other division followed, but the wind being light, many had barely steerage way. Fourteen vessels followed Collingwood, who was to attack the enemy's rear, while Nelson slashed into the van and centre. Villeneuve, seeing by the British formation that his number was up and that he would have to give battle, manoeuvred to keep Cadiz open, which was about twenty miles NE. of him, but the wind, being light, made it as difficult for the French Commander-in-Chief to carry out the disposition as it was for the quick-witted British Commander to prevent it. Hence the development was a lazy process, and prevented, as varying circumstances always do, any rigid plan being adhered to. Had there been a fresh breeze before the battle commenced, the chances are that the French would have secured a position that would have enabled more of the crippled ships to get into Cadiz, but even this is doubtful, as only a fluke of wind could have saved them from the strategy of the British Commander-in-Chief before the fighting began. Between eleven and twelve o'clock on the 21st October every humanly possible, detailed arrangement had been completed. Each captain knew that, so far as it was possible, he was to follow where his admiral and vice-admiral led. The spirits of all those who manned the fleet were high of hope, and the inspiring spirit said he could do no more.

Nelson then went to his cabin and on his knees wrote a prayer that throbbed and will continue to throb through the universe. It exhales the spirit of bravery, and triumphant assurance of the eternal justice of the cause for which he is about to sacrifice himself, for a sombre document it is; but the soul that is in it is imperishable, and who can peruse it without vividly picturing the writer kneeling before the Omnipotent, pleading for his country's cause, and offering himself piously as a willing sacrifice!

May the great God, whom I worship, grant to my country, and for the benefit of Europe in general, a great and glorious victory, and may no misconduct in any one tarnish it; and may humanity, after victory, be the predominant feature in the British fleet. For myself individually, I commit my life to Him that made me; and may His blessing alight on my endeavours for serving my country faithfully. To Him I resign myself and the just cause which is entrusted to me to defend. Amen, Amen, Amen.

Then, as though apprehension of the inevitable passing was growing, the thought of the woman who is the mother of his child, and for whom he had an unquenchable love, blinds him to all sense of propriety. It puts a severe strain on our imagination to realize how a man could composedly write such a request on the verge of the greatest naval conflict in history. It is dated "21st of October, 1805, in sight of the combined fleets of France and Spain, distant ten miles":--

Whereas the eminent services of Emma Hamilton, widow of the Right Honourable Sir William Hamilton, have been of the very greatest service to my King and country to my knowledge, without ever receiving any reward from either our King and country; First, that she obtained the King of Spain's letter, in 1796, to his brother, the King of Naples, acquainting him of his intention to declare war against England, from which letter the Ministry sent our orders to the then Sir John Jervis, to strike a stroke, if opportunity offered, against either the arsenals of Spain or her fleets. That neither of these was done is not the fault of Lady Hamilton; the opportunity might have been offered. Secondly: The British fleet under my command could never have returned the second time to Egypt, had not Lady Hamilton's influence with the Queen of Naples caused letters to be wrote to the Governor of Syracuse, that he was to encourage the fleets being supplied with everything, should they put into any port in Sicily. We put into Syracuse, received every supply; went to Egypt, and destroyed the French fleet. Could I have rewarded these services, I would not now call upon my country; but as that has not been in my power, I leave Emma, Lady Hamilton, therefore a legacy to my King and country, that they will give her an ample provision to maintain her rank in life. I also leave to the beneficence of my country my adopted daughter, Horatia Nelson Thompson; and I desire she will use in future the name of Nelson only. These are the only favours I ask of my King and country at this moment when I am going to fight their battle. May God bless my King and country, and all those I hold dear! My relations, it is needless to mention, they will, of course, be amply provided for.

NELSON AND BRONTE.

_Witness_, HENRY BLACKWOOD. T.M. HARDY.

It is of little importance whether this codicil was written at the same time as the prayer or a couple of hours before; that neither adds to nor detracts from the object of it. No definite opinion of the time is given. Blackwood and Hardy, as witnesses, would know. In any case it is an extraordinary document, and indicates unusual mental control of which few human beings are possessed. His mind must have been saturated with thoughts of the woman when the great battle was within a few minutes of commencing. Early in the morning, when he was walking the poop and cabin fixings and odds and ends were being removed, he gave stern instructions to "take care of his guardian angel," meaning her portrait, which he regarded in the light of a mascot to him. He also wore a miniature of her next his heart. Unless Captain Hardy and Captain Blackwood and others to whom he confided his love potions were different from the hearty, unconventional seamen of the writer's early sea-life, a banquet of interesting epithets could have been left to us which might have shocked the severely decorous portion of a public who assume a monopoly of inherent grace but do not understand the delightful simple dialect of the old-time sailor-men.

There can be small doubt that Nelson's comrades had many a joke in private about his weird and to them unnecessarily troublesome love wailings, which would be all the more irksome when they and he had serious business in hand. Poor Sir Thomas Troubridge appears to have been the only one to have dealt frankly with him about carrying his infatuation to such lengths--especially at a time when the public service was in need of his undivided attention--and Nelson never had a kindly feeling towards him afterwards. This gallant officer and loyal friend was in command of the _Blenheim_ (seventy-four guns) when she and the _Java_ (twenty-three guns) foundered with all hands near the island of Rodriguez, in the East Indies, on the 1st February, 1807. Nelson harboured a childish bitterness against Admiral Troubridge because of his plain speaking, and especially after the latter was appointed a Lord of the Admiralty. He always believed the "hidden hand" to be that of his former friend, to whom he delighted at one time to give the term "Nonpareil." In a letter to a friend he says: "I have a sharp eye, and almost think I can see it. No, poor fellow," he continues, "I hope I do him injustice; he surely cannot forget my kindness to him," He boasts of how he spoke to St. Vincent, the former "Nonpareil." In another eloquent passage he complains that Troubridge refuses to endorse his recommendations of officers for promotion, that he has been so rebuffed that his spirits are broken and the great Troubridge has cowed him (this, of course, in derision), and if he asked for anything more he would not get it. He would never forget it. No wonder he was not well. The Admiralty are "beasts" for not allowing him to come to London, which would only deprive him of a few days' comfort and happiness, and they have his hearty prayers. He continues in the same ludicrous strain, "I have a letter from Troubridge urging me to wear flannel shirts, as though he cared for me. He hopes that I shall go and have walks ashore, as the weather is now fine." "I suppose he is laughing at me, but never mind." He suffers from sea-sickness and toothache, and "none of them care a damn about my sufferings," and so on. These misdirected outbursts of feverish antipathy to poor Troubridge were frequent, and always inconceivably comical as well as distressingly peevish. But behind it all there was a consciousness of unequalled power which every one who knew him recognized, and they therefore patiently bore with his weaknesses, trying as they sometimes were.

Lord St. Vincent believed, and stated to Nelson, that the only other man who possessed the same power of infusing into others the same spirit as his own was Troubridge, and no doubt this innocent praise of a noble and gallant sailor rankled in Nelson's mind, and was the beginning of the jealousy that grew into hate. He could not brook any one being put on an equality with himself, and he clung tenaciously, though generously, to this idea of authority and superiority when he requested in his last dying gasp that he should not be superseded.

After signing what is called the codicil to his will, Captains Hardy and Blackwood joined him on the poop to receive his instructions. He was calmly absorbed with the enemy's plan of defence and his own of attack. He asked Blackwood what he would consider a victory, and the latter replied, "Considering the disposition of both fleets, he thought fourteen captures would be a fine result." Nelson said he would not be satisfied with less than twenty, and that nothing short of annihilation was his object. Soon afterwards he gave orders to Mr. Pasco to make the memorable signal that

ENGLAND EXPECTS EVERY MAN TO DO HIS DUTY,

which sent a thrill of fiery enthusiasm throughout the whole fleet. Then the signal for "Close action" went up, and the cheering was renewed, which created a remarkable effect. Collingwood, whose attention was wholly on a Spanish three-decker that he had selected to engage, is reported to have been irritated, and spontaneously expressed the wish that "Nelson would cease signalling, as they all knew what to do."

At noon the French ship, the _Fougeux_, fired the first shot of the battle. The belligerent admirals saluted in the good old pious style, like professional boxers shaking hands before the attempt to knock each other out, and in a few more minutes were engaged in deadly conflict, hurling death at each other. Nelson, in his courageous melancholy way, confident of his own powers and trusting reverently in the continuance of the lavish bounty of God, resigned his fate to Him who had given him the opportunity of doing his duty. The conspicuous splendour of the decorations which he wore on the breast of his admiral's frocker was apprehensively looked upon by his comrades, who loved him with touching loyalty. They muttered their disappointment to each other, but shrank from hurting his feelings by warning him of the danger of the sharpshooters, to whom he would be a target, remembering how he had sharply replied to some anxious soul who on a previous occasion had cautioned him with regard to his prominent appearance, "that in honour he had gained his orders, and in honour he would die with them."

The battle quickly developed into a carnage. The _Bucentaure_ had found her range soon after twelve o'clock, when some of the shots went over the _Victory_. Blackwood was at this time ordered to rejoin his ship. He shook hands with his chief, and in some brief parting words expressed the "hope that he would soon return to the _Victory_ to find him well and in possession of twenty prizes"; and Nelson is reported to have calmly answered, "God bless you, Blackwood, I shall never speak to you again." His habit was to refer to death with eager frankness, and as though he were in love with it, without in the least showing any lack of alertness or detraction from the hazardous objects he had set himself to fulfil. His faith in the powerful aid of the Omnipotent was as unvarying in his sphere of warfare as was Cromwell's when he had the stern realities of human unruliness to steady and chastise. Nelson, like the latter, had in his peculiar way a deep-rooted awe and fear of God, which must have made him oblivious to all other fear. The magnificent fellow never showed greater mastery of the science of strategy, nor did he ever scan with greater vigilance the manner of carrying out the creation of his genius. Collingwood, who was first in the thick of the fight, set his heart throbbing with pride and admiration when he observed the _Royal Sovereign_ dash through the lines of the enemy, spreading devastation and death with unerring judgment. "See," said Nelson to Captain Blackwood, "how that noble fellow, Collingwood, takes his ship into action!" Then he paused for a moment, and continued, "How I envy him!" And as though the spirits of the two men were in communion with each other, Collingwood, knowing that the Commander-in-Chief's eager eye was fixed upon him in fond admiration, called out to the flag-captain near him, "Rotherham, what would Nelson give to be here?"

One of those fine human touches of brotherhood which Nelson knew so well how to handle with his faultless tact had occurred the day before. Collingwood and some officers paid a visit to the _Victory_ for the purpose of receiving any instructions he might have to give. Nelson asked Collingwood where his captain was, and when he replied that they were not on friendly terms, Nelson sharply answered, "Not on good terms," and forthwith gave orders for a boat to be sent for Rotherham; and when he came aboard he took him to Collingwood and said, "Look! there is the enemy, shake hands," and they renewed their friendship by gratefully carrying out his wishes. But for this, perhaps we should have been cheated of knowing the charming anecdote, which denotes the veneration the two old friends had for each other.

There is no need to make any apology for this digression, for it is to record one more of the many acts of wisdom and tenderness that were so natural to this man of massive understanding. The incalculable results that he was destined to accomplish may well be allowed to obscure any human weakness that sadly beset him.

Nelson, with blithe courage, sailed right into the centre of the French fleet, which in disorder surrounded their Commander-in-Chief's ship, his intention being to capture her and take Villeneuve prisoner. Never a gun was fired from the _Victory,_ although many of her spars, sails, and her rigging had suffered severely, until she had rounded as close as it was possible under the stern of the _Bucentaure_ and got into position. Then a terrific broadside was let fly from her double-shotted guns, which raked the _Bucentaure_ fore and aft, and the booming of cannon continued until her masts and hull were a complete wreck. Many guns were dismounted and four hundred men killed. The _Victory_ then swung off and left the doomed _Bucentaure_ to be captured by the _Conqueror_, and Villeneuve was taken prisoner. After clearing the _Bucentaure_, the _Victory_ fouled the _Redoubtable_, and proceeded to demolish her hull with the starboard guns, and with her port guns she battered the _Santissima Trinidad_, until she was a mass of wreckage, and the _Africa_ and _Neptune_ forced her to surrender. Meanwhile, the _Victory_ kept hammering with her starboard guns at the _Redoubtable_ until her lower deck cannon were put out of action. Then she used her upper deck small guns and muskets from aloft. Nelson was too humane a man to use this method of warfare from the lower tops, and too practical, lest the ropes and sails should be damaged. The writer is of opinion that he was wrong in this view, as was clearly shown by the deadly execution the French musketeers did from aloft before their masts were shot away by the British big artillery. It can never be wrong to outmatch an enemy in the methods they employ, no matter what form they take. Although the victory was all on the British side at Trafalgar, it would have been greater and with less loss of life on our side had musketeers been employed in the same way as the French and Spanish employed them. The men on the upper deck of the _Victory_ were shot down by these snipers without having an equal chance of retaliating. The _Redoubtable's_ mizzen-top was full of sharpshooters when the two ships fell alongside of each other, but only two were left there when Nelson was shot and dropped on his left side on the deck a foot or two from Captain Hardy. The Frenchman who shot him was killed himself by a shot fired from the _Victory's_ deck, which knocked his head to pieces. His comrade was also shot dead while trying to escape down the rigging, and fell on the _Redoubtable's_ poop. The other sharpshooters had been previously killed by the musketry from the _Victory's_ deck.

Nelson told Hardy, when he expressed the hope that he was not seriously hurt, that "they had done for him at last, and that he felt his backbone was broken." He was hit on the left shoulder; the ball had pierced his left lung. The snipers from the tops of the other enemy ships killed a large number of the _Victory's_ officers and men who were on deck. The French made an attempt to board, but were thrown back in confusion and with tremendous loss. The instinct of domination and the unconquerable combativeness of our race is always more fiercely courageous when pressed to a point which causes others to take to their heels or surrender.

It was not an exaggeration on the part of the French and Spanish to declare that the British sailors and soldiers were not ordinary men but devils, when the real tussle for mastery began, and when they were even believed to be beaten. The French and Spanish conclusions were right then, and the ruthless Germans, stained with unspeakable crimes, should know they are right now, for they have had many chances in recent days of realizing the power of the recuperating spirit they are up against, just at a time when they have become imbued with the idea that they have beaten our forces on land and destroyed our ships and murdered their crews at sea. The Kaiser and his advisers, military and naval, have made the German people pay dearly for the experiment of stopping our supplies by sea, for the loss of life by the sinking of their own submarines must have been enormous. But only those to whom they belong will ever know that they have not returned, and that they must have been sent to the bottom of the sea.

We can only judge by written records and authoritative paintings or prints of the period what the naval battles of the beginning of the last century were like. But it is only those who have studied minutely the naval battles of St. Vincent, the Nile, Copenhagen, and Trafalgar who can depict the awful character and thrilling nature of these ocean conflicts.

While the author was serving as an apprentice aboard a sailing vessel during the Prussian-Danish war in 1864 a dense fog came on, and continued the whole of one night. When it cleared up the next forenoon we found that the vessel had been sailed right into the centre of the Danish fleet, which had defeated the Prussians and Austrians off Heligoland. There were other merchantmen there, and the cheering as we passed each of the Danish warships was hearty and long, while they gracefully acknowledged by saluting with their flags. I am quite sure there were few British seamen who would not have gladly volunteered to serve in the Danish navy against the Prussians, so universal was their bitter dislike to the Hun bullies who had set themselves to steal by force the possessions to which they had not an atom of right. The sight of these fine frigates and line-of-battle ships manoeuvring to come to grips with their cowardly antagonists who were assailing their national rights has been revivified during a long course of study of Nelson's naval warfare, and makes the awful vision of Trafalgar appear as it really was, and makes me wish that I were gifted with the art of words so that I might describe it in all its gruesome wreckage and magnitude, as the recollection of the majestic sight of the Danish ships before they even went into action makes it appear to me.