The Mediterranean and Italy.—From the Evacuation of Toulon in 1793 to the British Withdrawal from that Sea, in 1796, and the Battle of Cape St. Vincent, February, 1797.—Austria Forced to Make Peace.

AFTER the evacuation of Toulon, on the 19th of December, 1793, Lord Hood had taken his fleet to HyÈres Roads,—an anchorage formed by the group of islands of the same name a few miles east of Toulon. There he remained during the greater part of January, revictualling his ships and considering what steps should next be taken to assure British interests in the Mediterranean.

It is essential to a fleet, as to an army, to have always near at hand depots of supplies, upon which it can depend to replace the consumption of the limited stores carried on board, and to which it can resort for refit. The way from the depots to the fleet, or the army, technically called the communications, should be such as can most easily be defended by the armed force itself, without impairing its liberty in movements necessary to obtain the objects of the war. In other words, this depot, or base, should be near the scene of operations and, when practicable, so situated that the fleet, while actively engaged, interposes directly or indirectly between it and the enemy. Nearness was doubly important in the days of sailing ships, whose movements depended upon the fickle element of the wind; for then a ship going in for refit not only took more time to perform the voyage, but also in returning made a heavier draft upon her resources, and consequently could remain a shorter period at the seat of war.

Toulon, while securely held, served as such a base; although, being exposed to overpowering attack from the land side, its situation called for excessive expenditure of effort. Toulon was, however, now lost, and the British were thrown back upon Gibraltar, at the very entrance of the Mediterranean, and nine hundred miles from the seat of hostilities, for a secure depot in which to land stores and a safe anchorage for transports and crippled ships-of-war.

Although the possession of a strong place, suited in itself for a base, may decide the character of operations projected, logically the necessary operations should first be determined, and the choice of the base be decided by them. In the Mediterranean, as elsewhere generally at this time, the policy of Great Britain was to control the sea for the protection of commerce, and to sustain on shore the continental powers in the war against France,—chiefly by money, but also by naval co-operation when feasible. To support the land warfare, her diplomatic negotiations strove to unite, in the general military effort, as many as possible of the small independent states into which Italy was divided, to promote among them unity of action, and to foster the sense of security, in taking a decided step against France, which they could only derive from the presence among them of a strong power, such as Great Britain showed in her fleet. Neither their traditions nor the character of their rulers enabled them to combine strongly as equals; nor, as has before been said, was there any one state so predominant as to give a nucleus around which the others could gather. The only possible centre was Great Britain, present as a power in her fleet. Moreover, if unable, as she proved, to stir them up to positive, harmonious, concerted action, it was her interest to impose upon them a benevolent neutrality towards herself and her allies, and to deter them from inimical measures into which they might otherwise be impelled by the demands of the republic and their fear of the French army. Friendly ports along the whole coast were essential for the security of her shipping and the promotion of her commerce. Finally, it must be added that the character of the shore between Nice and Genoa, interposing between the French and Austrian armies, particularly favored direct naval co-operation. The Maritime Alps and the Apennines, coming down close to the sea, left but a single narrow, and yet long, line of communications along the beach, traversed by a very bad road, in many parts under fire from the sea. [105] This condition made the armies using that line chiefly dependent for supplies upon coasters, whose movements ships-of-war could harass and impede,—though not, when sailing vessels, entirely stop.

Corsica, in its existing political conditions of revolt against France under the leadership of Paoli, appeared to offer the strategic situation which Hood was seeking. It was near and centrally placed with reference to the probable operations on shore; San Fiorenzo Bay, which became the chief anchorage for the fleet, being equidistant, about one hundred miles, from Nice and from Genoa. Leghorn also, one of the greatest depots of British trade in the Mediterranean and the seaport of Tuscany, over which Great Britain wished to enforce her influence, was but sixty miles from Cape Corso at the northern extremity of the island. All the trade with northern Italy had to pass close to Corsica, and was consequently exposed to capture if the seaports remained in French hands; especially as calms prevail around the island, facilitating the operations of row-galleys and neutralizing the powers of a sailing navy. Being an island, Corsica depended upon the control of the sea; and, though its size and rugged surface precluded conquest, there was believed to be a disposition to accept the protection of Great Britain as the only means of dispossessing the French troops, who still held the seaports of San Fiorenzo, Bastia, and Calvi.

Sir Gilbert Elliott, who had been the Civil Commissioner of Great Britain in Toulon during the last month of its occupation, left HyÈres Bay early in January to confer with Paoli, who had proposed the annexation of the island to the British crown. His enthusiastic reception by the people and the assurances of the Corsican chieftain convinced him that the measure was sincerely desired; and in consequence of his representations, Hood, on the 24th of January, sailed from HyÈres with his whole fleet for San Fiorenzo Bay. The weather proving very tempestuous, and the three-decked ships, of which there were several, being ill-fitted to contend with it, the admiral was forced to take them to Porto Ferrajo in Elba, and to send against San Fiorenzo a detachment only. This appeared off the place on the 7th of February; and after a series of combined operations, in which the navy bore a very conspicuous share on land, the French evacuated the town and works on the 19th of the month, retreating upon Bastia. The admiral then urged an attack upon Bastia; but the general thought he could not spare enough men. Nelson, who had been blockading there for some time, strongly represented the feasibility of the enterprise; and, after a sharp altercation between the two commanders-in-chief, Hood determined to undertake the siege with the navy and the troops who were serving on board as marines. The landing began on the 3d of April; but the place held out till the 21st of May, when it capitulated. Calvi was next taken in hand, the operations beginning on the 19th of June, and ending with its surrender on the 10th of August. The whole island was thus freed from the presence of French troops,—a result due almost wholly to the navy, although the army bore a share in the operations at San Fiorenzo and Calvi. To the determination of Hood and the ardent representations of Nelson was due that Bastia was besieged at all; and, as thirty-five hundred regular troops then surrendered to an outside force of fourteen hundred seamen and marines, the opinion of Sir Gilbert Elliott that "the blockade of the port was the chief means of reducing it," can scarcely be disputed. At the siege of Calvi Nelson lost his right eye.

Between the siege of Bastia and that of Calvi, the General Assembly of Corsica met, and on the 19th of June, 1794, tendered the insular crown to the king of Great Britain. With the successful issue of the military operations, this political act consummated the possession of the island. But, to quote the words of Elliott, the claim to Corsica rested upon superior force, [106] and by that only could be asserted; and this superior force the British government failed to provide. The love of the people for Paoli, and the period of anxiety through which he and they had passed, caused the connection to be eagerly desired, and accepted with demonstrations of the warmest delight; but as security succeeded the sense of danger, the first-love between nations so radically distinct in temperament and institutions was followed by the symptoms attending ill-assorted unions. Still, with prompt action and strong garrisons, the benefit of the foreign occupation might have been manifest, dissatisfaction might have yielded to considerations of interest, and the island been retained. The British government acted slowly. Elliott had urged that authority should be sent him beforehand to take over the executive functions at once, as soon as the Act of Union passed; instead of which, Paoli was left for four months in his old position, and developed a jealousy of his destined successor not unprecedented in the heads of states. This feeling, which he held with Corsican intensity, communicated itself to his followers; and an inauspicious division of sentiment already existed when, in October, after an interval of four months, Elliott received his powers as viceroy. Paoli continued for a year longer to reside in Corsica, and up to the time of his departure was a cause of trouble to the viceroy, and so of strength to the partisans of France, who became numerous.

During the year 1794 the superior importance of the operations on the frontiers of Belgium and Germany, as well as in Spain, caused the French armies of Italy and the Alps to remain quiet, after some early successes which had placed in their hands the chief passes of the mountains and advanced their line on the coast as far as Vado, on the borders of Genoese territory. Early in 1795 a force of eighteen thousand men was detached to Toulon for the invasion of Corsica; but, although the French had in the port fifteen ships-of-the-line, they felt that neither the admiral nor the officers possessed the tactical skill necessary to handle the fleet in presence of an enemy of nearly equal force, if encumbered with a large body of transports. The case reproduced that of Conflans, when expected in 1759 to cover the French invasion of England. As a rule, in combined military and naval expeditions the fleet and the army should start together; but the tactical embarrassment of transports is indisputable. If the fleet cannot encounter the enemy successfully when not so hampered, it but encourages disaster to incur the meeting with them in company. Not improperly, in such a case of doubt, it was decided that the Toulon fleet should sail alone; and, accordingly, on the 2d of March, 1795, Admiral Martin put to sea with fifteen of the line, seven frigates, and five smaller vessels. Despite these respectable numbers, the efficiency of the force was poor. Out of twelve thousand officers and men on board the ships-of-the-line, seventy-five hundred had never before been to sea; and Martin reported that, deducting officers and petty-officers, he had but twenty-seven hundred seamen to man the fleet. [107]

Hood had gone home the previous November, expecting to return; and the British were now commanded by Admiral Hotham. The latter had cruised off Toulon for three weeks in mid-winter, on account of the indications of the French coming out, and after a succession of most violent weather returned to San Fiorenzo Bay on the 10th of January. He sailed again, apparently about the 22d of the month, to cover a convoy expected from England, leaving in port the "Berwick," seventy-four; which, through the carelessness of her officers, had been permitted to roll her masts overboard at her anchors. After some more hard cruising, the fleet put into Leghorn on the 25th of February, leaving still in San Fiorenzo Bay the "Berwick," the delay in whose repairs can only be attributed to the penury of naval resources. The presence of the fleet in Leghorn was probably necessary both for its own supplies and to remind the wavering Tuscany of the power of Great Britain at her doors; but the "Berwick" incident served powerfully to illustrate the far-reaching effects of individual carelessness and the impolicy of exposing small detachments not covered, directly or indirectly, by the main body. On the 7th of March the French fleet came in sight of Cape Corso, and almost at the same moment discovered the "Berwick," which had only the previous day succeeded in leaving San Fiorenzo for Leghorn. Being still crippled, she was easily overtaken, and forced to surrender at noon.

The following day Hotham in Leghorn learned that the enemy had sailed, and the next morning at dawn put to sea in pursuit. On the 11th the two fleets came in sight of each other, the French far south and to windward of the British, out of gun-shot, and thus continued during the 12th. That night one of the French seventy-fours lost a topmast and parted company, reducing their numbers to fourteen. The following morning the "Ça-Ira," an eighty-gun ship, ran into her next ahead, losing both fore and main topmasts, and thus became the source of anxiety and danger which a crippled ship ever is in the fleet to which she belongs. As she dropped out of the line, a British frigate ran close to her on the side encumbered with the fallen spars, annoying her there for some time with comparative impunity, and was then succeeded by Nelson in the "Agamemnon," who hung about on her quarters until several ships bore down to her relief.

During the night the "Sans Culottes," of one hundred and twenty guns, the heaviest vessel in the French fleet, dropped out of the line to leeward, and in the morning was out of sight. The "Ça-Ira" was taken in tow by, the "Censeur," seventy-four, and at daybreak these two were some distance from, and to the north-east of, their fleet. Both parties were at this time much scattered from the irregularities of the wind; but it shifting now to the north-west favored the British, and those nearest the separated ships speedily brought them to action. While this partial engagement was going on, both fleets shaped their course for the scene, the French intending to cover the "Censeur" and "Ça-Ira" by passing between them and the British, but owing to some misunderstanding this was not done. As the two vans went slowly by on opposite tacks, a sharp exchange of shots took place, in which the British, not being well closed up, were overmatched, and two of their number suffered severely; but as the French allowed the enemy to interpose between them and the disabled vessels, these were forced to surrender after a very gallant resistance, in which they lost four hundred men and were partially dismasted. Each fleet continuing its course in opposite directions, they soon separated and passed out of sight.

The baffling character of the wind, combined with the indifferent sailing qualities of the British three-deckers, deprive this action of any special tactical significance; and the very mediocre calibre of the two admirals was not calculated to overcome the difficulties they encountered. The numerous accidents in Martin's fleet, and the parting of the "Sans Culottes" at such a moment, show the indifferent character of the French captains, and probably justify the comment that Hotham owed his success to the initiative of the admirable officers under his command rather than to his own capacity. "I went on board Admiral Hotham," wrote Nelson, "as soon as our firing grew slack in the van and the 'Ça-Ira' and 'Censeur' had struck, to propose to him leaving our two crippled ships, the two prizes, and four frigates, and pursue the enemy; but he, much cooler than myself, said, 'We must be contented, we have done very well.' Admiral Goodall backed me; I got him to write to the Admiral, but it would not do; we should have had such a day as I believe the annals of England never produced." [108] "Admiral Hotham," says Chevalier, [109] "showed great circumspection. He probably did not appreciate the improvised fleets of the republic. To fight, there are needed ships in good condition, capable seamen, skilful gunners, and officers accustomed to order, to military dispositions, and to squadron manoeuvres. These we did not have." "The enemy," wrote Nelson about the same fleet, a few months later, "are neither seamen nor officers." [110] The immediate consequence of this defeat was the abandonment of the projected expedition against Corsica.

After the battle a gale of wind forced the British into Spezia and caused the wreck of the "Illustrious," seventy-four, which, from injuries received in the action, was not able to keep off shore. This, with the capture of the "Berwick," equalized the losses of the two fleets. The French anchored in HyÈres Bay, where they were rejoined by the "Sans Culottes," and on the 24th of March returned to Toulon. Admiral Renaudin's arrival from Brest [111] on the 4th of April raised the available force to nineteen or twenty ships-of-the-line; to which the enemy could now oppose only thirteen of their own and two Neapolitan. But, although the British were very destitute of material for necessary equipment and repair, [112] the superiority of organization, discipline, and officer-like training, allowed them little real cause for anxiety. In the month of May a Jacobin outbreak occurred in Toulon. The government had ordered Martin to take advantage of Renaudin's junction, and again to seek the enemy while thus superior. The mob raised the cry that as soon as the fleet sailed the enemies of the Revolution would enter the town and massacre the patriots. The seamen, except those belonging to the Brest squadron, left their vessels, under pretext of deliberating on the dangers of their country, and took part in all the street demonstrations. An expedition was even set on foot against Marseille; but the central government was getting stronger, or rather anarchy was becoming wearisome, and after a paltry engagement the Toulonese fell back upon their city and submitted. A great number of seamen, however, had deserted; and the necessity of recovering them delayed the departure of the fleet, which finally put to sea on the 7th of June with seventeen ships-of-the-line. The time for a favorable sortie was, however, past; the British having at last received a large re-enforcement.

After partially refitting in Spezia, Hotham took his fleet to San Fiorenzo, arriving there on the 30th of March. On the 17th of April he sailed again for Minorca, where he hoped to meet a re-enforcement and a much-needed convoy; but a succession of westerly winds caused the fleet to lose ground, instead of gaining, until the 27th, when it unexpectedly and most fortunately met a body of store-ships from Gibraltar. With these the admiral at once bore up for Leghorn, arriving there next day. Had the French in their own dockyards refitted as rapidly as the British did in a foreign port, and gone to sea with the increase of strength that Renaudin brought, they should have intercepted this important convoy, if they did not bring the fleet to action. The correspondence of Nelson, still a simple captain, testifies continually, in his own vivid style, to the critical state of the campaign at this moment.

On the 8th of May Hotham sailed again for Minorca, and continued to cruise off that island until the 14th of June, when Rear-admiral Robert Mann joined him with a re-enforcement from England of nine [113] ships-of-the-line, making the British superior in number as in quality to the enemy. As a convoy was also expected, the fleet kept the same station until it arrived on the 22d, when the whole body sailed for San Fiorenzo, anchoring there June 29. On the 4th of July Hotham sent Nelson with his own ship and some smaller vessels to co-operate on the Riviera of Genoa with the Austrian advance against the French; but the detachment fell in with Martin's fleet, and had to return to San Fiorenzo, being, says Nelson, "hard pressed" by the enemy, who pursued until they saw the British fleet at anchor. The latter weighed as soon as possible, but did not come up with the French until the 14th, near the HyÈres Islands, where a trifling brush took place, resulting in the capture of the "Alcide," seventy-four, which immediately after surrendering caught fire and blew up. This small affair was the last in which Admiral Hotham was directly concerned. Hood had been definitively relieved of the Mediterranean command before he could sail from England on his return; and Hotham, weary of a burden to which he felt himself unfitted and had proved himself unequal, applied for relief, and struck his flag on the 1st of November, 1795.

Prior to the naval brush off HyÈres, little had been done in Italy by the armies on either side. The French, whose forces were far inferior to those of the allies and in a state of great destitution, were compelled to stand on the defensive over a very long line, of which the advanced post on the sea was at Vado. The Austrians had imposed upon the Sardinians their own plan of campaign, which was to strike the extreme right of the French at Vado, and then drive them back along the Corniche, while the Sardinians attacked on the other flank through the passes of the Apennines up to the Col di Tende, where the Maritime Alps begin. The British fleet was to co-operate with the movement on the side of the sea,—a consideration which had much to do with determining the Austrian plan. By occupying Vado and the Riviera east of it, the coasting trade heretofore carried on from the ports of Genoa and Tuscany to southern France would be stopped; a matter of great consequence to the republic, as those departments only raised grain for three months' consumption and depended for the rest upon that which came from Barbary and Italy by way of Tuscany. With a British squadron at Vado, the populace of Provence, the navy at Toulon, and the army of Italy, would have to be supplied from the north of France by bad inland roads. [114] Vado Bay was, moreover, the best anchorage between Nice and Genoa. Devins, the Austrian general, began his movement on the 13th of June, passing through Genoese territory against the protest of that neutral government. The French resisted sturdily; but the odds were too great, and by the end of June they had fallen back to a line extending from Borghetto on the sea to Ormea in the mountains, abandoning Vado and the intermediate coast towns. Devins now called on Hotham for naval support, and the British admiral detached Nelson, as has already been seen, to give it; but the encounter with the French fleet delaying his arrival for some days served Devins with a pretext for inaction. He employed the mean time in fortifying his position and improving the roads in his rear.

On the 17th of July Nelson reached Genoa, took on board the British minister to that republic, and went to Vado, anchoring there on the 21st. He immediately conferred with Devins, who gave it as his opinion that the Austrians could not advance further until the French were compelled to retire by want of provisions,—a result he expected from the action of the navy. Nelson explained to the minister that the food supplies being carried in neutral vessels he was powerless to stop them; for he had stringent orders from the admiralty that no legal measures should be instituted against such, when arrested, until full particulars in each case had been sent to England and instructions had come back what to do. Meanwhile the cargoes, being perishable, would be spoiled. Such utterly inconsequent proceedings, though highly characteristic of the military action of cabinets, were most exasperating to a man of Nelson's temper, always prone to cut knots; but, as he was pecuniarily answerable and a poor man, he could not disregard them on his sole authority. The British ministers to Genoa and Sardinia both concurred in advising him to carry out Devins's wishes; and then Nelson, with the fearlessness of responsibility he always showed,—and sometimes out of, as well as in, season,—issued orders to his frigates to take every vessel bound to France or to ports within the French lines, to whatsoever nation it might belong. At the same time the general also sent out small cruisers; and it is roundly asserted by Jomini that he laid a tax on all coasting vessels brought in by them, forcing them to pay for a passport and appropriating the proceeds to himself. The utmost diligence, however, could not insure the interruption of a traffic carried on by very small vessels, having to make but short night runs close along a coast; [115] and Nelson's orders, while doubtless productive of some results in stopping large vessels from Tuscany and Algiers, could not prevent supplies getting in by Genoese coasters. The difficulty was increased by the fact that a number of the ports in rear of the French positions belonged to Genoa, and the inhabitants depended upon her for food. To turn a deaf ear to their cries of suffering, and to prevent supplies landed there being used by the French, were alike impossible.

These considerations should have led Devins to regard naval co-operation simply as the efforts of a light force, competent to harass, not to destroy, the enemy's communications; and should have induced him to force his own way, by early and vigorous action, while the French were inferior in numbers and before their positions became too strong. Instead of this, he used the Sardinians and British, not as allies, but as excuses for not moving; action of one kind or another on their part was necessary before he could advance. Thus the summer slipped away, the French busily strengthening their lines and bringing up the army of the Pyrenees to re-enforce that of Italy, after peace was made with Spain. Nelson was full of projects to embark a corps of Austrians, who should seize and occupy a coast position in rear of the French; but Devins only played with a proposition of which Jomini speaks with scant respect, and which was certainly open to the objection that, if carried out with adequate force, it divided the Austrian army. Nelson, it is true, guaranteed its retreat to his ships in case of need; but the Austrian, not unnaturally, preferred a less uncertain line. The British captain, who had at first felt respect for Devins's abilities, wrote on the 17th of September that it had for some time appeared to him "that the general intended to go no further than his present position, and meant to lay the miscarriage of his enterprise against Nice to the non-co-operation of the British fleet and the Sardinian army." [116] Whatever his purpose, Devins did not advance, but quietly awaited the French attack. Early in November a severe illness caused him to give up the command; and on the 23d of the month the enemy, under General SchÉrer, assaulted vigorously the centre of the allied position, where the Sardinians touched the Austrians. This point had always been weak, and after a short struggle was forced. The original intention of SchÉrer had been to turn, after piercing the centre, against the Sardinians, as Bonaparte did in the following year; but a very heavy fall of snow in the mountains decided him to swing round to the right, drive the Austrians back upon the coast, and, if possible, anticipate them upon their line of retreat to the eastward. In this he was not entirely successful; but the imminent danger forced the enemy to abandon all their line of works and fall back precipitately, with a loss of seven thousand men, killed, wounded and prisoners, besides their depots at Loano, Vado, and Savona. This action, which was a brilliant and decisive victory, is known as the battle of Loano. By the first of December the Austrians had recrossed the Apennines and were again in the positions from which they had set out the previous June.

The military plan and execution of the campaign by the land forces scarcely falls within the scope of the present work. An advance by the armies of a coalition, whose respective troops and lines of operation are separated by a chain of mountains, even of the height of the Apennines, with difficult communication across them, does not present a combination promising mutual support and probable success. To this disadvantage is to be added that of the long and narrow line by which all the Austrian supplies had to be forwarded; and which any successful advance would make yet longer and more difficult. On the other hand, the Austrians counted much upon the help that could be extended by the navy of Great Britain, in whose interest the occupation of the shore line was undertaken. [117] By their advance they controlled Vado Bay,—the best anchorage between Villefranche (Nice) and Genoa; and their presence imposed a restraint upon the latter republic, whose attitude was largely determined by the comparative forces of the belligerents. Did then the British navy, under these circumstances, do all that it could have done to insure the success of the common cause?

The answer can scarcely be yes. Nelson, indeed, exerted himself with the energy that never failed him; but his correspondence shows that he did not think the force assigned him equal to its task. Could it then have been increased? The answer again is scarcely doubtful. The British fleet of the line was slightly superior in numbers to the French at Toulon, and far superior in the quality of its officers and men. It was doubtless embarrassed by numerous duties,—by those conflicting interests whose divergence imposes the great test of capacity upon a general officer. The French fleet at Toulon, co-operation with the Austrian advance, the protection of trade, the covering of Corsica, the political interests involved in controlling the action of the small Italian states,—all these cares fell upon the British admiral. Of these, the French fleet was the most important; but all other interests of Britain and her allies were better served by co-operation with the Austrian advance,—by victory in the field,—than by any dissemination of force for other purposes. A decisive Imperial success would have determined the policy of every state in the western Mediterranean and closed every port to French cruisers.

In short, offensive action, and not the merely defensive attitude maintained through the campaign, was here clearly indicated. Nelson intimates that the only course by which the navy could practically intercept the French communications was to enter the coasting ports and destroy the coasters. These little vessels defied detection on their voyages; only by chasing them into their nests could their wings be clipped. "A few days ago," he writes, "I scoured the coast between Monaco and Borghetto so completely, that although I was only able to take one ship loaded with corn, yet I forced the others into the Bay of Alassio, where they are so completely under the protection of formidable batteries that not less than three sail-of-the-line could attempt to take or destroy them. The number of vessels loaded and unloaded at those places is near one hundred, the greater part loaded with stores and corn for France." [118] Here was the strategic direction to be given to the British navy, after providing for the watch off Toulon. "You will now," wrote Nelson five years later to Lord Keith, "bear me out in my assertion, when I say that the British fleet could have prevented the invasion of Italy; and if our friend Hotham had kept his fleet on that coast, I assert, and you will agree with me, no army from France could have been furnished with stores or provisions; even men could not have marched." [119] If the fleet proved unequal to this task, final condemnation was passed on the allied plan of campaign, which was not in its conception characterized by sound military judgment. But Admiral Hotham, as Nelson said, had "no head for enterprise, perfectly satisfied that each month passes without any losses on our side." [120] Nelson never had under his orders any other ship-of-the-line than his own "Agamemnon;" and at the time of the decisive battle of Loano all his little squadron had been taken away except two, so that French gunboats harassed with impunity the left flank of the Austrians. [121] He himself at that critical moment had to remain in Genoa with the "Agamemnon," at the request of the Imperial minister, to prevent the crew of a French frigate then in port, supported as it would have been by French partisans, from seizing Voltri,—an important point upon the line of retreat of the Austrians, where a few resolute men could have stopped them until the pursuing army came up. To him alone was therefore attributed the escape of several thousand Imperial soldiers, among whom was the commander-in-chief himself. [122] Prior to the battle Genoa had permitted French intrigues and armed enterprises of this character to be concerted, almost openly, in her territories. This she would not have dared to do, had the British navy been present in force on the coast, acting under such a commander as Nelson; for the probabilities of final success would have been with the allies. In short, this campaign of the British fleet contributes another to the numerous lessons of history, upon the importance of having sufficient force at the decisive point and taking the offensive. It may be added that Hotham could better have spared ships to Nelson, if he had not thrown away his two opportunities of beating the Toulon fleet.

While Nelson was co-operating with the Austrians as far as his force admitted, the British fleet was generally cruising off Toulon, returning from time to time to San Fiorenzo or Leghorn for refit and stores. It was in this latter part of the year 1795 that the Directory, as will be remembered, decided to abandon the policy of fleet-fighting and to enter upon that of commerce-destroying, directed against exposed colonies of the enemy as well as against his trade afloat. Two squadrons, numbering in all seven ships-of-the-line and eight smaller vessels, were ordered fitted out at Toulon, which was with difficulty done for want of seamen. Since the action of July off HyÈres, nearly all the sailors in Martin's fleet had deserted, disgusted with the bad food, scanty clothing, and constant disaster that were their portion. Enough, however, were at last gathered to man the ships selected; and on the 14th of September six of the line and three frigates got away under the command of Captain Richery. It does not appear whether the British fleet was then at sea or at San Fiorenzo; but in either case it was at this port, and not until September 22d, that Hotham learned their escape. On the 5th of October this leisurely commander-in-chief sent Admiral Mann with six of the line in pursuit; but the French, having so great a start, could not be overtaken. They passed the Straits of Gibraltar early in October, bound to the British possessions in North America. On the 7th of the month, when a hundred and fifty miles west of Gibraltar, they fell in with an enemy's convoy of thirty-one merchant ships from the Levant, under the protection of three seventy-fours. Richery succeeded in capturing one of the latter, which had lost a topmast, and all the merchant ships except one. Having so valuable a booty, he decided to escort it into Cadiz, where he anchored on the 13th and was soon after found by Mann, whose arrival prevented his departure to fulfil his original mission. At about the same time some French frigates in the Atlantic took eighteen ships out of a Jamaica convoy. The other Toulon division, of one ship-of-the-line and six smaller vessels, cruised in the Levant; and, having made a number of prizes, returned safely to Toulon. Its commander, Captain Ganteaume, though undistinguished by any great achievements, was throughout his career remarkably fortunate in escaping the search of an enemy. It was he who commanded the flotilla on board which Bonaparte stole unseen through all the British cruisers, on his return from Egypt to France in 1799.

These results, coinciding so closely with the adoption of the new policy of commerce-destroying, confirmed the government in favor of this course, to which the French have always been strongly disposed. They hoped from it, to use the words of a representative in the Convention, "to force the English to a shameful bankruptcy;" what they obtained was the demoralization of their navy, the loss of the control of the sea and of their own external commerce, finally Napoleon's Continental System and the fall of the Empire.

The battle of Loano, decisive of the campaign of 1795, is yet more distinguished as marking the entrance upon the scene of two of the most remarkable figures in the war of the French Revolution. During the week after it was fought, Admiral Sir John Jervis, better known by his later title of Earl St. Vincent, arrived at San Fiorenzo, as the regular successor to Hood in the Mediterranean. During the winter Napoleon Bonaparte was chosen by the Directory to relieve SchÉrer in command of the Army of Italy.

The career and character of the youthful republican general are too well known, have been too often described, to be attempted by the author, from whose immediate theme, moreover, they stand apart. The personality of the already aged admiral, whose iron hands stamped his own image on the British navy and fashioned it into the splendid instrument with which the triumphs of Nelson were won, is, on the contrary, familiar to few except the students of naval history. Born in 1734, Sir John Jervis, when he assumed command of the Mediterranean fleet in his sixty-second year, had had no opportunity of distinguishing himself in the eyes of the world outside of the service to which he belonged. With the members of that service, however, he had long been a marked man. The child of a poor though well-born family, he had in early life, under the pressure of poverty, required of himself the same stern discipline and submission to the duty of the moment which he afterwards so rigorously exacted of others. Grave and unbending in his official relations, immovable as a rock when his determination was once formed, unrelenting almost to mercilessness in suppressing insubordination, then rife throughout the British navy, he had the high-bred polish of a man used to good society, and his demeanor was courteous, and, when occasion demanded, even courtly. A traveller by land as well as by sea, a constant and judicious reader, in a period when such habits were rarer than now among seamen, he was well informed in matters other than those relating merely to his profession. Of the latter, however, he was a master. His ship was the model of the British fleet during the American Revolution, and his high reputation drew to her quarter-deck youths from the best families of England, when they could obtain interest to get there. Yet no man was ever less swayed, in an age when social and political influence counted for so much, by any extrinsic claims of that character. Personal merit first, after that a family claim upon the navy, that a father or brother had given his life for the service,—nay, the very friendlessness of a deserving man,—such were the considerations that determined him in the use of patronage at his own disposal.

Yet, with all these strong attributes, capable too of a tenderness which could mourn long and deeply the loss of a valued comrade, the rule of Jervis was one of fear rather than love. It is impossible to criticise adversely measures whose extreme severity was justified, if not imperatively demanded, by the appalling crisis of the mutinies of 1797; impossible to withhold admiration, not unmingled with awe, from the impressive figure of the chief who stood unmoved and unyielding amid the smothered discontent, revolt threatening from below, the enemy's coast in sight from the deck, knowing that in every other fleet the crews had taken the ships from their officers, but determined it should not be so in the Mediterranean. Yet admiration is qualified by the feeling that to the ruthless temper of the man the position was not wholly displeasing,—that he was in his natural element when crushing opposition. A captain, who with great personal courage had quelled a rising in his ship, dragging the ringleaders with his own hands from among their followers, interceded on behalf of one of the condemned because he had previously borne a good character. "I am glad of it," replied Jervis; "hitherto we have been hanging scoundrels. Now men will know that no good character will atone for the crime of mutiny." In lesser matters, also, his tendency was to exaggerate restraint as well as punishment. "Where I would take a penknife," said Nelson, "Lord St. Vincent takes a hatchet."

With such characteristics, accompanied though they were by resolution and high professional accomplishments, it is not to be expected that the fire of genius will be found. Though not an ungenerous man, Lord St. Vincent lacked the sympathetic qualities that made Nelson at once so lovable and so great a leader of men. Escaping the erratic temper and the foibles of his great successor, upon whose career these defects have left marks ever to be regretted by those who love his memory, Jervis fell short too of the inspiration, of the ardor, which in moments of difficulty lifted Nelson far above the common plane of mankind, and have stamped his actions with the seal of genius. But after Nelson, Jervis, though of a different order, stands first among British commanders-in-chief. For inspiration he had a cool, sound, and rapid professional judgment; for ardor, a steady, unflinching determination to succeed; and these, joined to a perfect fearlessness of responsibility such as Nelson also showed, have won for him a place in the first rank of those chieftains, whether sea or land, who have not received the exceptional endowments of Nature's favorites. In the one general action which Fortune permitted to him, the battle of Cape St. Vincent, he illustrated these traits to a high degree; as Nelson then also showed that faculty of quick appreciation and instant action, in which all the processes of thought and will blend into one overpowering conviction and impulse that lesser men never know. Whether we consider the vastly superior numbers then deliberately engaged, the tactics of the admiral on the battle-field, or his appreciation of the critical position in which Great Britain then stood, Sir John Jervis's conduct on that occasion must make the battle of Cape St. Vincent ever illustrious among the most brilliant sea-fights of all ages.

To these powerful elements of his nature, Jervis added a capacity for comprehensive and minute attention to the details of discipline, order and economy, without which mere severity would become aimless and productive of none but bad results. He was fortunate in finding among the Mediterranean captains an unusual number of men of consummate seamanship, energy and resources, in all the vigor of a prime still youthful, who were only waiting for a master-hand to combine and give direction to their abilities. With such a head and with such subordinates, the British Mediterranean fleet soon became a model of efficiency and spirit, which was probably never equalled in the days of sailing ships. Nelson so considered it; and the old admiral himself bewailed its memory several years later, when commanding the Channel fleet, and complained testily of the "old women in the guise of young men," whom he found in charge of ships off Brest. As an administrator, when First Lord, the economy of Jervis became exaggerated into parsimony, and his experience of the frauds connected with the dockyards of the day led him into a crusade against them, which was both well meant and necessary, but particularly ill-timed. It has consequently left a stigma of failure upon his administration, which is due, however, not to his executive inefficiency, but to a misapprehension of the political signs of the times. Absorbed in reform, and for it desiring quiet, he saw only peace while the dark clouds of war were gathering thick on the horizon. Therefore the British navy, well-worn by the first war, was not ready for that which followed it in 1803.

Jervis's arrival in the Mediterranean was too late to remedy the impending evils. It was a singular misfortune for Great Britain, that the interregnum between two such able men as Hood and Jervis should have coincided with the determination of the French to try the chance of battle with their Mediterranean fleet, and that the opportunities they lost should have fallen to so sluggish and cautious an admiral as Hotham. "To say how much we wanted Lord Hood on the 13th of July," wrote Nelson, "is to say, Will you have all the French fleet, or no action?" [123] Accepting this opinion in the light of Nelson's subsequent achievements, it may be permitted to think that, if not all the fleet, so many ships would have fallen as to have prevented the sailing of Richery's squadron and the consequent necessary detachment of Admiral Mann; while the loss of seamen captured would have seriously crippled the operations of the flotilla, which from Toulon supplied the Army of Italy with ammunition, artillery and stores. Light guns on mountain carriages could be carried along the Corniche; but at the opening of Bonaparte's operations all heavy guns, and artillery outfits of all kinds, had to be taken by sea from Nice to Savona. [124] The demands of this flotilla necessitated the laying up of the fleet, [125]—a matter of less consequence as the determination to resort to commerce-destroying had then been reached. The French navy therefore became, through the flotilla, a very important part of Bonaparte's communications; and it has already been pointed out that sailing ships could not break up, though they might much disturb, the voyages of the smaller vessels employed on a difficult coast, with batteries under which to take refuge.

After the battle of Loano, Nelson, whose occupation on the Gulf of Genoa was for the time over, went to Leghorn to refit his ship, then nearly three years in commission. Not till January 19,1796, did he join Jervis, who since his arrival on the station had, for the most part, remained in San Fiorenzo organizing his fleet. The new admiral showed him the same confidence as his predecessors, and sent him at once to his old station, with a light division, to prevent any small number of men making a descent upon Italy. A predominant idea, one might almost call it a fad, in Nelson's mind, was the landing of a body of men from ships in rear of the enemy. As has been seen, he was forward to recommend such an attempt to Devins, promising to support it with his squadron; and the intelligence concerning flat-boats and gunboats prepared in the French ports suggested nothing to his mind so much as transporting troops to Tuscany, in rear of the Austrians, while the main French army operated in their front. Like Bonaparte, Nelson recognized the resources which the plains of Piedmont, Lombardy and Tuscany would offer to the needy enemy. He called them a gold mine; but he did not understand the weakness of the French in seamen, nor realize the improbability of Bonaparte's attempting such a use of his troops as would put them far out of mutual support and away from his own control. Certainly no indication of such a purpose is to be found in his correspondence or in the instructions of the Directory to him. On the contrary, he had strongly advised against a pet project of the Committee of Public Safety, early in 1795, to land an expedition in the papal states,—unless with control of the sea. [126]

Had the Austrians again advanced to the sea and occupied Vado, Jervis would undoubtedly have supported them and harassed the French to a very important extent. Nelson gave express assurances on that point. [127] Bonaparte, however, allowed him no opportunity. Leaving Paris on the 14th of March, 1796, the young general reached Nice on the 27th of the month. On the 5th of April he moved his headquarters to Albenga, and on the 9th to Savona. On the 10th Beaulieu, the new Austrian general, began to move his left wing by the pass of La Bochetta, his right by that of Montenotte; the junction to be formed at Savona. Quick as lightning, Bonaparte struck at once where the Austrian right touched the Sardinian left. Blow followed blow upon the centre of the allies, and after six days' fighting their armies were definitively separated. Driving the Sardinians before him in unremitting pursuit, Bonaparte on the 28th granted an armistice, by which three of the principal fortresses of Piedmont were put into his possession and plenipotentiaries dispatched to Paris to treat for peace. This was concluded and signed on the 15th of May. Sardinia abandoned the coalition, surrendered the counties of Savoy and Nice, and yielded other conditions favorable to France,—particularly in the boundary lines traced on the crests of the mountains, where the commanding military positions were given to the republic. Thus the gates of Italy were forced; and Austria, stripped of her ally on shore and cut off from the British at sea, alone confronted Bonaparte.

The French were now in the plains of Piedmont, with Lombardy before them. Beaulieu, expecting an advance against Milan by the north bank of the Po, had withdrawn across that river, intending to dispute its passage. If forced, he would cover Milan by falling back successively upon the lines of the Sesia and the Ticino, tributaries of the main stream. Bonaparte, however, was not the man to attack an enemy in front and force him back along his natural line of retreat to his proper base. Weighing accurately the political and military conditions of the peninsula, he had fixed his eye upon the line of the Adige as that which he wished to reach and hold, and which, under all the circumstances, he believed he could master. The Adige flows from the Tyrol south along the east shore of the Lake of Garda, then turns to the eastward and enters the Adriatic between the Po and Venice. Occupying it, the French army would cover all the valleys of the Po, lay tribute upon their resources as well as upon those of the small states south of the river, interpose between Austria and southern Italy, and isolate Mantua, the enemy's great stronghold. Making, therefore, a feint of following Beaulieu by the methodical front attacks expected by him, Bonaparte pushed his main force stealthily along the south bank of the Po. On the 7th of May the advance-guard reached Piacenza, and crossed at once by boats. On the 9th a bridge was completed over the river, which at this point is fifteen hundred feet wide and very rapid. Beaulieu's intended positions on the Sesia and Ticino were thus turned, and the Austrians necessarily fell back to the line of the Adda. On the 10th of May, just one month after Beaulieu began his forward movements, the bridge of Lodi, over the Adda, was carried; and the Austrians again fell back to the Mincio, the outlet of the Lake of Garda, uncovering Milan. On the 15th Bonaparte entered Milan in triumph. Here he paused for ten days, and, after quitting the place, had to return to punish a revolt which broke out among the people; but on the 30th of May the French crossed the Mincio, the Austrians retreating northward toward the Tyrol, along the east shore of the Lake of Garda.

This retrograde movement left Mantua to itself. On the 3d of June Bonaparte's headquarters were at Verona,—a strongly fortified place bestriding the Adige, thus insuring an easy transit to either side of the river, and which derives further strategic importance from its topographical position. A number of spurs run south from the Tyrol along the Lake of Garda and fall into the plain at Verona, which thus stands at the foot of the valleys formed by them. On either side of this cluster of spurs lie the valleys of the Adige and the Brenta, the two probable lines by which an Austrian attack would come. Verona, therefore, was a central point with reference to any offensive movements of the enemy, and became the pivot upon which Bonaparte's strategy hinged. On the 4th of June Mantua was blockaded. Having now compassed his first objective, Bonaparte passed temporarily from the offensive to the defensive, ceased his advance, and occupied himself with assuring the line of the Adige and pressing the siege of Mantua.

There remained only to realize the political advantages gained by his wonderful successes. The Duke of Parma had entered into a convention on the 9th of May, followed in the same course on the 17th by the Duke of Modena. On the 5th of June the Court of Naples, startled out of its dream of security, signed an armistice, withdrawing its troops from the coalition and its ships from the British fleet,—a precipitate abandonment of the common cause as ill-judged as it was cowardly. At that very moment the French leader was writing, "I see but one means not to be beaten in the autumn; and that is, so to arrange matters that we shall not be obliged to advance into southern Italy." [128] The Pope still holding out, Bonaparte improved the time which the Austrians must need to prepare a new movement, by marching into the papal states a corps under Augereau, whom he followed in person. On the 19th Bologna was reached, and on the 24th the Pope signed an armistice. Coincidently with this advance, it was felt safe and opportune to send into Tuscany a division taken from the corps occupying Piedmont. This detachment entered Leghorn on the 28th of June, occupied the port despite the neutrality of Tuscany, drove out and broke up the great British commercial and naval interests centred there, and obtained a secure base for the intended attempt upon Corsica.

The failure of the Austrians to reach the coast, and their subsequent retreat, of course put an end to any direct co-operation between them and the British fleet. Jervis was forced to confine himself to watching the Toulon ships,—an operation conducted in the same spirit and on the same system which he afterwards imparted to the Brest blockade, and generally to that of all hostile arsenals. For over six months, from the beginning of April to the middle of October, he cruised with fifteen sail-of-the-line off the port; the heavy ships remaining some distance from it, but near enough to support a light division of three seventy-fours, which kept just out of range of the batteries, about two miles from the entrance. By unremitting care and foresight, the ships on this arduous service were provisioned, watered and repaired on the spot, without going into harbor. Nelson, as the year before, was actively employed in the Gulf of Genoa, harassing the coast communications, and was on one occasion fortunate enough to capture a convoy with guns and entrenching tools for the siege of Mantua. In the Adriatic, a few frigates and a flotilla of small vessels were engaged in protecting the Austrian communications by way of Trieste. Admiral Mann, with seven ships-of-the-line, was still off Cadiz, in the station assigned him by Hotham to watch Richery. Besides these strictly military operations, ships were called for in every direction to convoy trade, to cover the passage of storeships, and generally to keep the sea safe for unarmed British vessels, whether traders or government transports, upon whom depended the supplies of the fleet and those of Gibraltar drawn from Barbary. Between thirty and forty frigates and smaller vessels were thus occupied, and were found insufficient to meet the varied demands arising from the wide diffusion of British commerce and the activity of French cruisers.

Bonaparte's rapid successes and wide flight of conquest materially affected the British fleet; and the question of supplies became very serious with the ports of Tuscany, Naples and the Pope closed to its aid. Growing symptoms of discontent made the tenure of Corsica doubtful, with the French in Leghorn, and with Genoa tolerating their intrigues through fear of their armies. As early as May 20, immediately after entering Milan, Bonaparte had sent agents to Genoa to concert risings in the island; and in July he began to collect in Leghorn a body of Corsican refugees, at whose head he put General Gentili, also a native. The threatening outlook of affairs, and the submission of Tuscany to the violation of her neutrality by the French, determined the viceroy of Corsica to seize Elba, although a Tuscan possession. Nelson, with a small squadron, appeared before Porto Ferrajo on the 10th of July, and to a peremptory summons received immediate surrender. Being very small, Elba was more immediately under naval control than Corsica, and to hold it required fewer troops. In case of the loss of the larger island, it would still assure the British a base in the Mediterranean and continued control, so long as their fleet could assert predominance over those of their enemies.

Some doubt, however, was felt on this latter point. The attitude of Spain, far from cordial when an ally, had been cold as a neutral, and was now fast becoming hostile. The decrepit kingdom had a navy of over fifty sail-of-the-line; and, although its discipline and efficiency were at the lowest ebb, the mere force of numbers might prove too much for even Jervis's splendid fleet of only twenty-two,—seven of which were still before Cadiz, a thousand miles from the main body off Toulon. Foreseeing the approaching danger, Jervis, about the time Elba was seized, sent Mann orders to rejoin him; and accordingly, on the 29th of July, the blockade of Cadiz was raised. It was just in time, for on the 19th of August Spain, moved by the successes of Bonaparte and the French advance into Germany,—which had not yet undergone the disasters afterwards inflicted upon the separated armies of Jourdan and Moreau by the Archduke Charles,—had signed a treaty of offensive and defensive alliance with the republic. As soon as Mann's ships disappeared, Richery demanded the help of the Spanish fleet to cover his departure, and on the 4th of August sailed in company with twenty Spanish ships-of-the-line. These escorted him three hundred miles to the westward, and then returned to port, leaving the French to fulfil their original mission against British North America, after a detention of nearly ten months. Richery, who had been promoted to rear-admiral during this time, made his cruise successfully, harassed the fishing interests on the coasts of Newfoundland, captured and burned a hundred British merchant vessels, and got back to Brest in time to take part in the unfortunate expedition against Ireland, which sailed in December of this year.

Admiral Mann, though a brave and good officer, showed bad judgment throughout this campaign. Apparently, to use Napoleon's expression, "Il s'Était fait un tableau" as to the military and naval situation; and to such a frame of mind the governor of Gibraltar, O'Hara, a pessimist by temperament, [129] probably was a bad adviser. In his precipitation to join the commander-in-chief, he forgot the difficulty about stores and left Gibraltar without filling up. Jervis consequently was forced to send him back at once, with orders to return as quickly as possible. On his way down, on the 1st of October, he was chased by a Spanish fleet of nineteen sail-of-the-line under Admiral Langara. His squadron escaped, losing two merchant vessels under its convoy; but, upon arriving in Gibraltar, he called a council of captains, and, having obtained their concurrence in his opinion, sailed for England, in direct disregard of the commands both of Jervis and the Admiralty. Upon his arrival his action was disapproved, [130] orders were sent him to strike his flag and come ashore, and he appears never again to have been employed afloat; but, when it is remembered that only forty years had elapsed since Byng was shot for an error in judgment, it must be owned men had become more merciful.

Mann's defection reduced Jervis's forces by one third, at a time when affairs were becoming daily more critical. Not only did it make the tenure of the Mediterranean vastly more difficult, but it deprived the admiral of his cherished hope of dealing a staggering blow to the Spanish fleet, such as four months later he inflicted at Cape St. Vincent. After meeting Mann, Langara was joined by seven ships from Cartagena, and with this increase of force appeared on the 20th of October about fifty miles from San Fiorenzo Bay. Jervis had just returned there from off Toulon, having on the 25th of September received orders to evacuate Corsica,—an operation which promised to be difficult from lack of transports. On the 26th of October Langara entered Toulon, where the new allies had then thirty-eight ships-of-the-line collected.

During the summer months Nelson had blockaded Leghorn, after its occupation by the French; and this measure, with the tenure of Elba, seems to have effectually prevented any large body of men passing into Corsica. On the 18th of September the little island of Capraja, a Genoese dependency and convenient refuge for small boats, was seized for the same object. On the 29th, however, Nelson received orders from Jervis for the evacuation of Corsica, the operations at Bastia being assigned to his special care. As soon as the determination of the British was known, discontent broke out into revolt. Gentili, finding the sea clear, landed on the 19th of October, pressing close down upon the coast; and the final embarkation was only effected in safety under the guns of the ships. On the 19th Nelson took off the last of the troops, and carried them with the viceroy to Elba, which it was intended still to hold. Jervis held on at San Fiorenzo Bay to the latest moment possible, everything being afloat for a fortnight before he left, hoping that Mann might yet join, and fearing he might arrive after the departure of the fleet. On the 2d of November provisions were so short that longer delay was impossible; and the admiral sailed with his whole force, reaching Gibraltar, after a tedious voyage, on the 1st of December, 1796. During the passage, in which the crews were on from half to one third the usual rations, Jervis received instructions countermanding the evacuation, if not yet carried out. If executed, Elba was still to be held.

The policy of thus evacuating the Mediterranean admits, now as then, of argument on both sides. The causes for the vacillation of the British government are apparent. The first orders to leave everything, Elba included, were dated August 31. Generals Jourdan and Moreau were then far in the heart of Germany; and the archduke having but just begun the brilliant counter-move by which he drove first one, and then the other, back to the Rhine, the effects of this were in no way foreseen. From Italy the latest possible news was of Bonaparte's new successes at Lonato and Castiglione, and the fresh retreat of the Austrians. The countermanding orders, dated October 21, were issued under the influence of the archduke's success and of Wurmser's evasion of Bonaparte and entrance into Mantua; whereby, despite repeated defeats in the field, the garrison was largely increased and the weary work of the siege must be again begun. While Mantua stood, Bonaparte could not advance; and the Austrians were gathering a new army in the Tyrol. The British government failed, too, to realize the supreme excellence of its Mediterranean fleet and the stanch character of its leader. "The admiral," wrote Elliott [131] on the spot, "is as firm as a rock. He has at present fourteen sail-of-the-line against thirty-six, or perhaps forty. If Mann joins him, they will certainly attack, and they are all confident of victory." The incident of Mann's conduct, under these circumstances, is full of military warning. It is within the limits of reasonable speculation to say that, had he obeyed his orders,—and only extreme causes could justify disobedience,—the battle of Cape St. Vincent would have been fought then in the Mediterranean, [132] instead of in the Atlantic after the fall of Mantua, and would have profoundly affected the policy of the Italian States. With such a victory, men like Jervis and Elliott would have held on for further orders from home. "The expulsion of the English," wrote Bonaparte, "has a great effect upon the success of our military operations in Italy. We must exact more severe conditions of Naples. It has the greatest moral influence upon the minds of the Italians, assures our communications and will make Naples tremble even in Sicily." [133]

In the opinion of the author, Sir Gilbert Elliott expresses the correct conclusion in the words following, which show singular foresight as well as sound political judgment: "I have always thought that it is a great and important object in the contest between the French republic and the rest of Europe, that Italy, in whole or in part, should neither be annexed to France as dominion, nor affiliated in the shape of dependent republics; and I have considered a superior British fleet in the Mediterranean as an essential means for securing Italy and Europe from such a misfortune." [134] Elliott's presentiments were realized by Napoleon at a later day; the immediate effect of the evacuation was indicated by a treaty of peace between France and Naples, signed October 10, as soon as the purpose was known. In 1796 the British fleet had been three years in the Mediterranean, and since the acquisition of Corsica had effected little. What was needed at the moment was not an abandonment of the field, but a demonstration of power by a successful battle. The weakest eyes could count the units by which the allied fleets exceeded the British; acts alone could show the real superiority, the predominance in strength, of the latter. That demonstrated, the islands and the remote extremities of the peninsula would have taken heart, and a battle in the Gulf of Lyon had the far-reaching effects produced by that in Aboukir Bay. At the time of the evacuation the three most important factors in the military situation were, the siege of Mantua, the Austrian army in the Tyrol, and, last but not least, the British fleet in the Mediterranean. This sustained Naples; and Naples, or rather southern Italy, was one of Bonaparte's most serious anxieties. Finally, it may be said that the value of Corsica to the fleet is proved by Nelson's preference of Maddalena Bay, in the straits separating Corsica from Sardinia, over Malta, as the station for a British fleet watching Toulon.

Immediately upon reaching Gibraltar, Jervis received orders to take the fleet to Lisbon, in consequence of a disposition shown by the allied French and Spanish governments to attack Portugal. [135] The limits of his command were extended to Cape Finisterre. Before sailing, he despatched Nelson up the Mediterranean with two frigates to bring off the garrison and stores from Elba, the abandonment of which was again ordered. On the 16th he sailed for Lisbon, arriving there on the 21st; but misfortunes were thickening around his fleet. On the 10th, at Gibraltar, during a furious gale, three ships-of-the-line drove from their anchors. One was totally lost on the coast of Morocco, and another struck so heavily on a rock that she had to be sent to England for repairs. Shortly after, a third grounded in Tangiers Bay, and, though repaired on the station, was unfit for service in the ensuing battle. A fourth, when entering the Tagus in charge of a pilot, was run on a shoal and wrecked. Finally, in leaving the river on the 18th of January, a ninety-eight-gun ship was run aground and incapacitated. This reduced the force with which he then put to sea to seek the enemy to ten ships-of-the-line.

Nelson, his most efficient lieutenant, was also nearly lost to him on that interesting occasion, when his fearlessness and coup d'oeil mainly contributed to the success achieved. Sailing from Gibraltar on the 15th of December, he fought on the 20th a severe action with two Spanish frigates, which would have made a chapter in the life of an ordinary seaman, but is lost among his other deeds. His prizes were immediately recovered by a heavy Spanish squadron, but his own ships escaped. On the 26th he reached Porto Ferrajo, and remained a month. He was there joined by Elliott, the late viceroy of Corsica, who had been in Naples since the evacuation. General De Burgh, commanding the garrison, refused to abandon his post without specific orders from the government, and as Nelson had only those of Jervis, he confined himself to embarking the naval stores. With these and all the ships of war he sailed from Elba on the 29th of January, 1797. On the 9th of February he reached Gibraltar; and thence, learning that the Spanish fleet had repassed the Straits, he hurried on to join the admiral. Just out of Gibraltar he was chased by several Spaniards, [136] but escaped them, and on the 13th fell in with the fleet. At 6 P. M. of that day he went on board his own ship, the "Captain," seventy-four, at whose masthead flew his broad pennant [137] during the battle of the following day.

The meeting which now took place between the Spanish and British fleets was the result of the following movements. Towards the end of 1796 the Directory, encouraged by Bonaparte's successes and by the Spanish alliance, and allured by the promises of disaffected Irish, determined on an expedition to Ireland. As the first passage of the troops and their subsequent communications would depend upon naval superiority, five ships-of-the-line were ordered from Toulon to Brest. This force, under Admiral Villeneuve, sailed on the 1st of December, accompanied by the Spanish fleet of twenty-six ships, which, since October, had remained in Toulon. On the 6th Langara went into Cartagena, leaving Villeneuve to himself, and on the 10th the French passed Gibraltar in full sight of the British fleet, driving before the easterly gale, which then did so much harm to Jervis's squadron and prevented pursuit. They did not, however, reach Brest soon enough for the expedition. The Spaniards remained in Cartagena nearly two months, during which time Admiral Cordova took command; but under urgent pressure from the Directory [138] they finally sailed for Cadiz on the 1st of February, passing the Straits on the 5th with heavy easterly weather, which drove them far to the westward. They numbered now twenty-seven ships-of-the-line.

Sir John Jervis, after leaving Lisbon on January 18, 1797, had convoyed to the westward some Portuguese merchant ships bound to Brazil, and then beaten back towards his station off Cape St. Vincent. On the 6th of February he was joined by a re-enforcement of five ships, which were sent from England as soon as the scare about Ireland had passed. With these fifteen he cruised off the Cape, knowing that he there must meet any squadron, from either the Mediterranean or the Atlantic, bound to Cadiz. At 5 A.M. of February 14, the frigate "Niger," which had kept sight of the Spanish fleet for some days, joined the admiral, and informed him that it was probably not more than ten or twelve miles distant, to the southward and westward. The wind, which had been strong south-easterly for several days, had changed during the night to west by south, enabling the Spaniards to head for Cadiz, after the weary battling of the past week; but this otherwise fortunate circumstance became a very dangerous incident [139] to a large, ill-officered, and ill-commanded body of ships, about to meet an enemy so skilful, so alert, and so thoroughly drilled as Jervis's comparatively small and manageable force. At daybreak, about 6.30, the Spaniards were seen, stretching on the horizon from south-west to south in an ill-defined body, across the path of the advancing British. Their distance, though not stated, was probably not less than fifteen to twenty miles. The British fleet being close hauled on the starboard tack, heading from south to south by west, while the Spaniards, bound for Cadiz, were steering east-south-east, the two courses crossed nearly at right angles. At this moment there was a great contrast between the arrays presented by the approaching combatants. The British, formed during the night in two columns of eight and seven ships respectively, elicited the commendation of their exacting chief "for their admirable close order." [140] The Spaniards, on the contrary, eager to get to port, and in confusion through the night shift of wind and their own loose habits of sailing, were broken into two bodies. Of these the leading one, as all were sailing nearly before the wind, was most to leeward. It was composed of six ships, the interval between which and the other twenty-one was probably not less than eight miles. Even after the British fleet was seen, no attempt was for some time made to remedy this fatal separation; a neglect due partly to professional nonchalance and inefficiency, and partly to misinformation concerning the enemy's force, which they had heard through a neutral was only nine ships-of-the-line. [141]

The weather being hazy and occasionally foggy, some time passed before the gradually approaching enemies could clearly see each other. At 9 A.M. the number and rates of the Spaniards could be made out from the masthead of the British flag-ship, so that they were then probably distant from twelve to fifteen miles. At half-past nine Jervis sent three ships ahead to chase, and a few minutes later supported them with three others. This advanced duty enabled these six to take the lead in the attack. About ten [142] the fog lifted and disclosed the relative situations. The British, still in two columns, were heading fair for the gap in the Spanish order. The six lee ships of the latter had realized their false position, and were now close to the wind on the port tack, heading about north-north-west, in hopes that they could rejoin the main body to windward, which still continued its course for Cadiz. Jervis then made signal to form a single column, the fighting order of battle, and pass through the enemy's line. It soon became evident that the lee Spanish ships could not cross the bows of the British. For a moment they wavered and bore up to south-east; but soon after five of them resumed their north-west course, with the apparent purpose of breaking through the hostile line whose advance they had not been able to anticipate. [143] The sixth continued to the south-east and disappeared.

The weather division of the Spaniards now also saw that it was not possible for all its members to effect a junction with the separated ships. Three stood on, and crossed the bows of the advancing enemy; the remainder hauled up in increasing disorder to the northward, steering a course nearly parallel, but directly opposite, to the British, and passing their van at long cannon shot. At half-past eleven the "Culloden," Captain Troubridge, heading Jervis's column, came abreast the leading ships of this body, and opened fire. Sir John Jervis now saw secured to him the great desire of commanders-in-chief. His own force, in compact fighting order, was interposed between the fractions of the enemy, able to deal for a measurable time with either, undisturbed by the other. Should he attack the eighteen weather, or the eight lee ships, with his own fifteen? With accurate professional judgment he promptly decided to assail the larger body; because the smaller, having to beat to windward, would be kept out of action longer than he could hope if he chose the other alternative. The decision was in principle identical with that which determined Nelson's tactics at the Nile. The signal was therefore made to tack in succession, in pursuit of the weather ships. Troubridge, anticipating the order, had already hoisted at the masthead his answering flag of recognition, rolled up after the manner of the sea, needing but a turn of the wrist to unloose it. Quick as the admiral's signal flew the reply fluttered out, and the "Culloden's" sails were already shaking as she luffed up into the wind. "Look at Troubridge," shouted Jervis, in exultation: "he handles his ship as if the eyes of all England were upon him! and would to God they were!" The rear of the Spaniards was just passing the "Culloden" as she thus went round. Ship after ship of the British line tacked in her wake and stood on in pursuit; while those still on the first course, south by west, interposed between the two Spanish divisions. Of these the lee, led by a hundred-gun ship under a vice-admiral's flag, headed towards Jervis's flag-ship, the "Victory," the seventh in the British order, as though to go through the line ahead of her. The "Victory" was too prompt; and the Spaniard, to avoid collision, went about close under the British broadsides. In doing this he was exposed to and received a raking fire, which drove him out of action, accompanied by his consorts. The "Victory," which had backed a topsail a moment to aim more accurately, then stood on and tacked in the wake of the "Culloden," followed by the rest of the British column.

It was now nearly one o'clock. The action so far had consisted, first, in piercing the enemy's line, cutting off the van and greater part of the centre from the rear; and, second, in a cannonade between two columns passing on opposite parallel courses,—the Spanish main division running free, the British close to the wind. Naval history abounds in instances of these brushes, and pronounces them commonly indecisive. Jervis, who had seen such, [144] meant decisive action when he ordered the "Culloden" to tack and follow the enemy. But a stern chase is a long chase, and the Spanish ships were fast sailers. Some time must pass before Troubridge and his companions could overtake them; and, as each succeeding vessel of the British line had to reach the common point of tacking, from which the Spaniards were steadily receding, the rear of Jervis's fleet must be long in coming up. That it was so is proved by the respective losses incurred. It has, therefore, been suggested that the admiral would have done well to tack his whole fleet, or at least the rear ships together, bringing them in a body on the Spanish van. The idea is plausible, but errs by leaving out of the calculation the Spanish lee division, which was kept off by the British rear ships. Those eight lee ships are apt to be looked on as wholly out of the affair; but in fact it was a necessary part of Jervis's combination to check them, during the time required to deal with the others. Admiral Parker, commanding in the van, speaks expressly of the efforts made by the Spanish lee division to annoy him, and of the covering action of the British rear. [145]

Thus, one by one, the British ships were changing their course from south by west to north-north-east in pursuit of the Spanish main division, and the latter was gradually passing to the rear of their enemy's original order. When they saw the sea clear to the south-east, about one o'clock, they bore up, altering their course to east-south-east, hoping to pass behind the British and so join the lee division. Fortunately for Jervis, Nelson was in the third ship from the rear. Having fully divined his chief's purpose, he saw it on the point of defeat, and, without waiting for orders, wore at once out of the line, and threw the "Captain," alone, in front of the enemy's leading ships. In this well-timed but most daring move, which illustrates to the highest degree the immense difference between a desperate and a reckless action, Nelson passed to the head of the British column, crossing the bows of five large Spanish vessels, and then with his seventy-four engaged the "Santisima Trinidad," of one hundred and thirty guns, the biggest ship at that time afloat. The enemy, apparently dashed by this act of extraordinary temerity, and as little under control as a flock of frightened sheep, hauled up in a body again to north-north-east, resuming what can only be described as their flight.

Their momentary change of course had, however, caused a delay which enabled the British leaders to come up. Troubridge in the "Culloden" was soon right behind Nelson, to whom he was dear beyond all British officers, and three other ships followed in as close array as was consistent with the free use of their guns. The Spaniards, never in good order, lay before them in confusion, two or three deep, hindering one another's fire, and presenting a target that could not easily be missed. This closing scene of the battle raged round the rear ships of the Spanish main body, and necessarily became a mÊlÉe, each British captain acting according to his own judgment and the condition of his ship. A very distinguished part fell to Collingwood, likewise a close associate of Nelson's, whose ship, the "Excellent," had brought up the rear of the order. Having, probably from this circumstance, escaped serious injury to her spars, she was fully under her captain's control, and enabled him to display the courage and skill for which he was so eminently distinguished. Passing along the enemy's rear, he had compelled one seventy-four to strike, when his eye caught sight of Nelson's ship lying disabled on the starboard side, and within pistol shot, of the "San Nicolas," a Spanish eighty; "her foretopmast and wheel shot away, not a sail, shroud, or rope, left," [146] and being fired upon by five hostile ships. With every sail set he pressed ahead, passing between the "Captain" and her nearest enemy, brushing the latter at a distance of ten feet, and pouring in one of those broadsides of which he used to assure his practised crew that, if they could fire three in five minutes, no vessel could resist them. The "San Nicolas," either intentionally or from the helmsman being killed, luffed and fell on board the "San Josef," a ship of one hundred and twelve guns, while the "Excellent," continuing her course, left the ground again clear for Nelson. The latter, seeing the "Captain" powerless for continued manoeuvre, put the helm to starboard; the British ship came up to the wind, fetched over to the "San Nicolas," and grappled her. Nelson, having his men ready on deck, rushed at their head on board the Spaniard, drove her crew below, and captured her. The "San Josef," which was fast to the "San Nicolas" on the other side, now opened a fire of musketry; but the commodore, first stationing sentinels to prevent the "San Nicolas's" men regaining their deck, called upon his own ship for a re-enforcement, with which he boarded the three-decker and carried her also. On her quarter-deck, surrounded by his followers still hot from the fight, he received the swords of the Spanish officers.

This dramatic ending to the distinguished part played by him, and the promptitude of his previous action, by which, while assuming a great responsibility, he saved the success of the day, have made Nelson the most striking figure in the battle of Cape St. Vincent; or, as it is sometimes called, of St. Valentine's Day. This splendid movement of his genius in no way detracts from the credit due to the commander-in-chief; as it was no lessening of Nelson's own fame that the leader of the van at the Nile conceived on the moment the happy thought of passing inside the French line. To Jervis alone belongs the honor of attacking such heavy odds, as well as of the correct and sufficient combination by which he hoped to snatch victory from superior numbers. He was happy, indeed, in having such a lieutenant, so right a man in so right a place, and at so critical a moment; but the whole responsibility and the whole original plan was his, and no man can take it from him. To him, too, was primarily due the admirable efficiency of his fleet, which removed from his enterprise the reproach of rashness to bestow upon it the praise of daring. A yet higher meed of glory is due to this bold admiral. As the dull morning light showed him the two fleets, he was heard to say, "A victory is very essential to England at this moment." Honor to the chief who can rise above his own anxieties and his local responsibilities to think of the needs of his country, and who is willing to risk his own reputation to support her credit.

Four Spanish ships were now in the possession of the British, and the great "Santisima Trinidad" was without fore or mizzen mast,—some said she had struck; but the lee division of the enemy was at last coming up, and many of the weather were still uninjured. Jervis, therefore, about four in the afternoon formed his fleet in line on the starboard tack, interposing it between the enemy and his prizes. This ended the battle. It has been thought that further pursuit of a fleet so disgracefully beaten would have increased the British triumph; but Jervis was not the man to risk a substantial success, securely held, for a doubtful further gain. The victory essential to Great Britain was won; the worthlessness of the Spanish navy was revealed,—it could no longer be accounted a factor in the political situation. In the opinion of the author, Jervis was right not to expose this, the great and attained result of Valentine's Day, to those chances of mishap that cannot be excluded from the operations of war.

Among the numerous rewards bestowed for this action, the admiral was advanced to the peerage as Earl St. Vincent, while upon Nelson was bestowed the then distinguished honor of Knight of the Bath. On the 20th of February he was made a rear-admiral. The captains of the fleet received medals, and the senior lieutenant of each ship was promoted.

Jervis had well said that Great Britain was then in essential need of a victory; and never was one better timed for political effect. Deep gloom prevailed throughout the country, and in every quarter the horizon was black with clouds, when, on the 3d of March, the bearer of the dispatches reached the admiralty. Since Bonaparte had seized the line of the Adige and cut off Mantua, three distinct attempts had been made by the Austrians in superior force to dislodge him and relieve the city; and in all three they had been beaten with heavy loss. The news was but lately come that Mantua had capitulated, leaving Bonaparte free to assume the offensive and advance, as he shortly did. The British fleet had been forced to abandon Corsica and the Mediterranean. Peace negotiations, begun with the republic, had ended by the British envoy being peremptorily ordered to leave France in forty-eight hours; and although the government had not expected a favorable issue, the effect on the people was disheartening. Consols fell to 51, a depression greater than any reached during the American Revolution. [147] The expedition of the French against Ireland had indeed failed; but so little share had the Channel fleet borne in their defeat, that the country was forced to ascribe to the direct interposition of Divine Providence a deliverance, which it would have preferred to see wrought through the instrumentality of the navy. That trusted arm of the national defence seemed palsied in every quarter. Finally, among the greater of many discouraging circumstances, specie payments were stopped by the Bank of England on the 26th of February, in obedience to an order of the government. The profuse subsidies paid to continental states, and the demands for coin to meet the expenses of the navy in all parts of the world, were the chief causes of a drain against which the bank directors had frequently remonstrated during two years as threatening ruin. To these causes for scarcity was added at this time another, temporary in its character and arising in great part from loss of confidence in the navy's efficiency,—the fear, namely, of invasion. People had begun to call for and to hoard coin against an evil day. Such was the outlook as Jervis's captain posted from Falmouth, where he landed, to London, keeping the secret of his good news within his breast. The frigate which had borne him went on to Plymouth with the viceroy of Corsica, returning with his suite from his lost principality. When they landed on the 5th of March, news had just reached the town of the suspension of cash payments, and, as they told of the great achievement off Cape St. Vincent, people at first refused to believe that the tide had turned. They were expecting to hear of a junction between the French and Spanish fleets, and an approaching invasion. So great was the financial panic, that fifteen guineas were with difficulty collected among government officials to pay the expenses of Elliott's journey to London. [148]

The revulsion was great, and was proved by the profusion with which rewards were distributed. The Spanish navy had been but a bugbear, but as a bugbear it was great. The veil that covered its rottenness was stripped away, and at the same time were revealed to the nation, which feared it had no naval chiefs, the striking and brilliant figures of Jervis and Nelson. In vain did the Opposition, in the true spirit of faction, seek to turn men's eyes from the brilliant achievements of the warriors to the imbecility affirmed of the government, which had opposed fifteen ships to twenty-seven. Thinking men realized that the administration could not be held responsible for Mann's unauthorized return at Christmas-tide, nor for the extraordinary series of misfortunes by which five more of the Mediterranean fleet were in one short month incapacitated. They saw, too, that no popular government would have dared to replace Mann's ships so long as the fate of Ireland, then in the balance, was uncertain. But most men did not care to think. It was enough for them that fifteen British ships had dashed into the midst of twenty-seven enemies, had collared and dragged out four of the biggest and severely handled the rest. It was enough to hear that the crew of one British seventy-four, headed by a man whom few out of the navy yet knew, had, sword in hand, carried first a Spanish eighty and then another of one hundred and twelve guns. With such men to rule the fleet, and with Pitt at the helm of state, they thanked God and took courage. Speculation is often futile; yet it is hard to see how the country could have borne the approaching crisis of the mutinies, on top of its other troubles, had not the fear of the Spanish navy been removed and the hope of better naval leaders been afforded. That the hope was well founded is no speculation. With St. Vincent began a series of victories and achievements which have thrown the great deeds of earlier years into undeserved obscurity.

Immediately after the battle the Spanish fleet entered Cadiz, and Jervis returned to Lisbon to refit his ships. On the 31st of March, having received further re-enforcements, he left Lisbon with twenty-one ships-of-the-line and took position off Cadiz, where the Spaniards had twenty-six of the same class. After cruising for six weeks under sail, he anchored the fleet for a long blockade, and this disposition continued with little intermission for two years,—until May, 1799, when the successful sortie of Admiral Bruix from Brest, related in another place, [149] and the consequent chase by the British blockading force, gave the Spaniards the opportunity to slip out. This tedious watching was unfruitful in events of military interest; but the burden of the commander-in-chief was increased by the spirit of mutiny, rife throughout the whole period, which triumphed temporarily in the Channel and North Sea fleets, and was by Jervis kept down only by a stern vigilance of which few but he were capable. Stamped out time and again by his unflinching energy, it was continually renewed by the fresh ships sent out from home, under officers of temper inferior to his captains, and with seamen who knew not yet by experience the indomitable will which they sought to bend. Execution followed execution; but never once did the old man's courage quail nor his determination falter. Seaman and officer alike were made to feel that while his flag flew his authority should prevail; and with such backing the officers showed themselves incapable of the weaknesses too often manifested in the home ports. [150] It is probable too that a strong nucleus of support existed among the crews that fought at St. Vincent,—due to admiration for the admiral himself, and for Nelson, Collingwood, Troubridge, Saumarez and others, who there distinguished themselves.

While these various events were transpiring at sea, from the evacuation of Corsica to the battle of St. Vincent, Bonaparte in Italy was still holding the line of the Adige and blockading Mantua. His posture therefore was essentially one of defence. The vigor and sagacity with which he resorted to offensive movements the instant the enemy drew down from the Tyrol to attack him, and the brilliant character of the victories won by him, obscure to most the fact that he was really on the defensive; holding on, amid risks and discouragements, to the conquests already made, and unable to attempt more until Mantua fell. The glories of Castiglione, Arcola, Rivoli, conceal this crucial feature of his situation, and the consequently important bearing of the presence of the British fleet, encouraging the dispositions of Naples and the Pope, which were distinctly hostile to the French. Nothing less than Bonaparte's energy and genius could have grappled successfully with such a situation; and his correspondence betrays his fear that, by the co-operation of the fleet, these dangers in the rear might become too great even for him. When Mantua capitulated on the 2d of February, Bonaparte turned first upon the Pope, whom he accused of violating the armistice concluded the previous June. His Holiness at once submitted, and on the 19th of February signed a peace, abandoning his right to his northern provinces,—Bologna, Ferrara and the Romagna,—and ceding to France, until the end of the war, Ancona, a good seaport on the Adriatic.

On the 10th of March, having completed all the dispositions that seemed necessary to secure his rear, Bonaparte advanced against the Austrians. The young Archduke Charles, whom the campaign of 1796 on the Danube had revealed to Europe as gifted with military talents of a very high order, had been sent to oppose him; but it was too late to resist on the plains of Italy, or even on the Italian side of the mountains. The French crossed the Tagliamento on March 16, and pushed up through the gorges of that stream and of the Isonzo into the eastern Alps. On the 23d Trieste was occupied. The Archduke retired continuously, barely disputing difficult positions with the enemy. His mind was fixed not to fight until he had drawn the French far into Germany, and had collected his own resources,—a decision whose wisdom Bonaparte sealed with his own commendation. "If the enemy had committed the folly of awaiting me," he wrote to the Directory, "I should have beaten them; but if they had continued to fall back, had joined a part of their forces from the Rhine, and had overwhelmed me, then retreat would have been difficult, and the loss of the Army of Italy might entail that of the republic. We must not shut our eyes to the fact that, though our military position was brilliant, we have not simply dictated the conditions." [151] Italy, too, was fermenting behind him. The moral effect, however, of this unopposed advance through the mountains of Carinthia brought the House of Austria to terms; and on the 18th of April preliminaries of peace were signed at Leoben, only sixty miles from Vienna. Though the formal treaty was not concluded until six months later, this transaction marked, for that time, the end of hostilities between Austria and France, which had then lasted five years,—from April, 1792, to April, 1797.

The preliminaries of Leoben stipulated a mutual cessation of hostilities between the republic and the emperor, and extended this provision to all the states of the German Empire, as well as to the particular dominions of the emperor himself. Austria surrendered definitively the Netherlands (Belgium), and "recognized the limits of France as decreed by the laws of the French Republic." In this phrase was imbedded the rock upon which negotiations with Great Britain split. The republic, on its part, undertook to furnish to the emperor at the final peace a "just and suitable compensation" for the provinces he lost.

The "suitable compensation," thus mysteriously alluded to, was defined in the "secret preliminary agreements," contracted at the same moment. It was furnished by depriving the republic of Venice, with which Bonaparte had reasons for serious discontent, of all its possessions on the mainland of Italy, as well as of Istria and Dalmatia on the east coast of the Adriatic. The provinces thus taken were divided: Austria receiving all east of the Oglio and north of the Po, with Istria and Dalmatia. The country between the Oglio and the Adda, previously owned by Venice, was taken to constitute a new, independent republic; into which were also incorporated all possessions of Austria west of the Oglio conquered by the French in the recent campaign. This was to be known as the Cisalpine Republic. Thus the lords of the Adriatic were shorn of their glory, and brought to the brink of the precipice from which, six months later, at the final peace, the Corsican conqueror hurled them headlong. For the moment there were spared to them their ancient city and the Ionian Islands; and the legations of Bologna, Ferrara, and the Romagna, taken from the Pope, were given to them,—a like transient possession.

Such, in brief outline, were the principal terms of the preliminaries of Leoben. The great and significant feature does not ostensibly appear among the articles. Bonaparte, in diplomacy, had achieved the great end at which he aimed in his plans of campaign. He had separated his enemies. "The French Republic," wrote he, "in granting at Leoben preliminaries so advantageous to his Imperial Majesty, had as its principal end the conclusion of a separate peace with his Majesty, in order to be in a position to turn all its forces against England, and oblige her to a prompt peace." He alone made and signed the preliminaries, and this quotation gives the strategy and policy of his life in a nutshell. [152] The crucial fact at Leoben was that Austria then, as Sardinia a year before, treated alone,—without her ally. This Great Britain, to her honor, absolutely refused to do in 1796, and as long as her ally stood by her. There is, of course, a great difference between the position of a state which finds a victorious enemy in the heart of its territories, and that of an island empire; and great allowance must be made for Austria, even though the calm retrospect of history sees that she failed rightly to appreciate the extreme hazard of Bonaparte's situation. But this allowance merely emphasizes the important truth, that the imposing attitude maintained by Great Britain throughout this tremendous contest depended absolutely and wholly upon the control of the sea,—upon Sea-Power.