THE NAPOLEONIC WARS [Continued]: THE RISE OF NELSON

In the Mediterranean, where the protection of commerce, the fate of Italy and all southern Europe, and the exposed interests of France gave abundant motives for the presence of a British fleet, the course of naval events may be sufficiently indicated by following the work of Nelson, who came thither in 1793 in command of the Agamemnon (64) and remained until the withdrawal of the fleet at the close of 1796. Already marked within the service, in the words of his senior, Hood, as "an officer to be consulted on questions relative to naval tactics," Nelson was no doubt also marked as possessed of an uncomfortable activity and independence of mind. Singled out nevertheless for responsible detached service, he took a prominent part in the occupation of Corsica, where at the siege of Calvi he lost the sight of his right eye, and later commanded a small squadron supporting the left flank of the Austrian army on the Riviera.

In these latter operations, during 1795 and 1796, Nelson felt that much more might have been done. The Corniche coast route into Italy, the only one at first open to the French, was exposed at many points to fire from ships at sea, and much of the French army supplies as well as their heavy artillery had to be transported in boats along the coast. "The British fleet could have prevented the invasion of Italy," wrote Nelson five years later, "if our friend Hotham [who had succeeded Hood as commander in chief in the Mediterranean] had kept his fleet on that coast."[1] Hotham felt, perhaps rightly, that the necessity of watching the French ships at Toulon made this impossible. But had the Toulon fleet been destroyed or effectually crippled at either of the two opportunities which offered in 1795, no such need would have existed; the British fleet would have dominated the Mediterranean, and exercised a controlling influence on the wavering sympathies of the Italian states and Spain. At the first of these opportunities, on the 13th and 14th of March, Hotham said they had done well enough in capturing two French ships-of-the-line. "Now," remarked Nelson, whose aggressive pursuit had led to the capture, "had we taken 10 sail and allowed the 11th to escape, when it had been possible to have got at her, I should not have called it well done." And again of the second encounter: "To say how much we wanted Lord Hood on the 13th of July, is to say, 'Will you have all the French fleet, or no action?'" History, and especially naval history, is full of might-have-beens. Aggressive action establishing naval predominance might have prevented Napoleon's brilliant invasion and conquest of Italy; Spain would then have steered clear of the French alliance; and the Egyptian campaign would have been impossible.

[Footnote 1: Dispatches, June 6, 1800.]

The succession of Sir John Jervis to the Mediterranean command in November, 1795, instituted at once a new order of things, in which inspiring leadership, strict discipline, and closest attention to the health of crews, up-keep vessels, and every detail of ship and fleet organization soon brought the naval forces under him to what has been judged the highest efficiency attained by any fleet during the war. Jervis had able subordinates—Nelson, Collingwood and Troubridge, to carry the list no further; but he may claim a kind of paternal share in molding the military character of these men.

Between Jervis and Nelson in particular there existed ever the warmest mutual confidence and admiration. Yet the contrast between them well illustrates the difference between all-round professional and administrative ability, possessed in high degree by the older leader, and supreme fighting genius, which, in spite of mental and moral qualities far inferior, has rightly won Nelson a more lasting fame. As a member of parliament before the war, as First Lord of the Admiralty from 1801 to 1803, and indeed in his sea commands, Jervis displayed a breadth of judgment, a knowledge of the world, a mastery of details of administration, to which Nelson could not pretend. In the organization of the Toulon and the Brest blockades, and in the suppression of mutiny in 1797, Jervis better than Nelson illustrates conventional ideals of military discipline. When appointed to the Channel command in 1799 he at once adopted the system of keeping the bulk of the fleet constantly on the enemy coast "well within Ushant with an easterly wind." Captains were to be on deck when ships came about at whatever hour. In port there were no night boats and no night leave for officers. To one officer who ventured a protest Jervis wrote that he "ought not to delay one day his intention to retire." "May the discipline of the Mediterranean never be introduced in the Channel," was a toast on Jervis's appointment to the latter squadron. "May his next glass of wine choke the wretch," was the wish of an indignant officer's wife. Jervis may have been a martinet, but it was he, more than any other officer, who instilled into the British navy the spirit of war.

In the Mediterranean, however, he arrived too late. There, as in the Atlantic, the French Directory after the experiments of 1794 and 1795 had now abandoned the idea of risking their battleships; and while these still served effectively in port as a fleet in being, their crews were turned to commerce warfare or transport flotilla work for the army. Bonaparte's ragged heroes were driving the Austrians out of Italy. Sardinia made peace in May of 1796. Spain closed an offensive and defensive alliance with the French Republic in August, putting a fleet of 50 of the line (at least on paper) on Jervis's communications and making further tenure of the Mediterranean a dangerous business. By October, 26 Spanish ships had joined the 12 French then at Toulon. Even so, Jervis with his force of 22 might have hazarded action, if his subordinate Mann, with a detached squadron of 7 of these, had not fled to England. Assigning to Nelson the task of evacuating Corsica and later Elba, Jervis now took station outside the straits, where on February 13, 1797, Nelson rejoined his chief, whose strength still consisted of 15 of the line.

The Battle of Cape St. Vincent

The Spanish fleet, now 27, was at this time returning to Cadiz, as a first step toward a grand naval concentration in the north. A stiff Levanter having thrown the Spanish far beyond their destination, they were returning eastward when on February 14, 1797, the two fleets came in contact within sight of Cape St. Vincent. In view of the existing political situation, and the known inefficiency of the Spanish in sea fighting, Jervis decided to attack. "A victory," he is said to have remarked, "is very essential to England at this hour."

As a fresh westerly wind blew away the morning fog, the Spanish were fully revealed to southward, running before the wind, badly scattered, with 7 ships far in advance and thus to leeward of the rest. After some preliminary pursuit, the British formed in a single column (Troubridge in the Culloden first, the flagship Victory seventh, and Nelson in the Captain third from the rear), and took a southerly course which would carry them between the two enemy groups. As soon as they found themselves thus separated, the Spanish weather division hauled their wind, opened fire, and ran to northward along the weather side of the British line; while the lee division at first also turned northward and made some effort to unite with the rest of their company by breaking through the enemy formation, but were thrown back by a heavy broadside from the Victory. Having accomplished his first purpose, Jervis had already, at about noon, hoisted the signal to "tack in succession," which meant that each ship should continue her course to the point where the Culloden came about and then follow her in pursuit of the enemy weather division. This critical and much discussed maneuver appears entirely justified. The British by tacking in succession kept their column still between the parts of the enemy, its rear covering the enemy lee division, and the whole formation still in perfect order and control, as it would not have been had the ships tacked simultaneously. Again, if the attack had been made on the small group to leeward, the Spanish weather division could easily have run down into the action and thus brought their full strength to bear.

But against an enemy so superior in numbers more was needed to keep the situation in hand. Shortly before one o'clock, when several British vessels had already filled away on the new course, Nelson from his position well back in the column saw that the leading ships of the main enemy division were swinging off to eastward as if to escape around the British rear. Eager to get into the fighting, of which his present course gave little promise, and without waiting for orders, he wore out of the column, passed between the two ships next astern, and threw himself directly upon the three big three-deckers, including the flagship Santisima Trindad (130 guns), which headed the enemy line. Before the fighting was over, his ship was badly battered, "her foretopmast and wheel shot away, and not a sail, shroud or rope left";[1] but the Culloden and other van ships soon came up, and also Collingwood in the Excellent from the rear, after orders from Jervis for which Nelson had not waited. Out of the mÊlÉe the British emerged with four prizes, Nelson himself having boarded the San Nicolas (80), cleared her decks, and with reËnforcements from his own ship passed across her to receive the surrender of the San Josef (112). The swords of the vanquished Spanish, Nelson says, "I gave to William Fearney, one of my bargemen, who placed them with the greatest sangfroid under his arm."

[Footnote 1: Nelson's Dispatches, Vol. II, p. 345.]

For Nelson's initiative (which is the word for such actions when they end well) Jervis had only the warmest praise, and when his fleet captain, Calder, ventured a comment on the breach of orders, Jervis gave the tart answer, "Ay, and if ever you offend in the same way I promise you a forgiveness beforehand." Jervis was made Earl St. Vincent, and Nelson, who never hid his light under a bushel, shared at least in popular acclaim. It was not indeed a sweeping victory, and there is little doubt that had the British admiral so chosen, he might have done much more. But enough had been accomplished to discourage Spanish naval activities in the French cause for a long time to come. They were hopelessly outclassed; but in their favor it should be borne in mind that their ships were miserably manned, the crews consisting of ignorant peasants of whom it is reported that they said prayers before going aloft, and with whom their best admiral, Mazzaredo, had refused to sail. Moreover, they were fighting half-heartedly, lacking the inspiration of a great national cause, without which victories are rarely won.

The defeat of the Spanish, as Jervis had foreseen, was timely. Mantua had just capitulated; British efforts to secure an honorable peace had failed; consols were at 51, and specie payments stopped by the Bank of England; Austria was on the verge of separate negotiations, the preliminaries of which were signed at Loeben on April 18; France, in the words of Bonaparte, could now "turn all her forces against England and oblige her to a prompt peace."[1] The news of St. Vincent was thus a ray of light on a very dark horizon. Its strategic value, along with the Battle of Camperdown, has already been made clear.

[Footnote 1: Correspondence, III, 346.]

The British fleet, after refitting at Lisbon, took up a blockade of the Spanish at Cadiz which continued through the next two years. Discontent and mutiny, which threatened with each fresh ship from home, was guarded against by strict discipline, careful attention to health and diet, and by minor enterprises which served as diversions, such as the bombardment of Cadiz and the unsuccessful attack on Santa Cruz in the Canary Islands, July 24-25, 1797, in which Nelson lost his right arm.

The Battle of the Nile

Nelson's return to the Cadiz blockade in May, 1798, after months of suffering in England, was coincident with the gathering of a fresh storm cloud in the Mediterranean, though the direction in which it threatened was still completely concealed. While Sicily, Greece, Portugal and even Ireland were mentioned by the British Admiralty as possible French objectives, Egypt was apparently not thought of. Yet its strategic position between three continents remained as important as in centuries past, controlling the trade of the Levant and threatening India by land or sea. "The time is not far distant," Bonaparte had already written, "when we shall feel that truly to destroy England we must take possession of Egypt." In point of fact the strength of England rested not merely on the wealth of the Indies, but on her merchant fleets, naval control, home products and manufactures, in short her whole industrial and commercial development, too strong to be struck down by a blow in this remote field. Still, if the continued absence of a British fleet from the Mediterranean could be counted on, the Egyptian campaign was the most effective move against her that offered at the time. It was well that the British Admiralty rose to the danger. Jervis, though he pointed out the risks involved, was directed to send Nelson with an advance squadron of 3 ships, later strengthened to 14, to watch the concentration of land and naval forces at Toulon. "The appearance of a British fleet in the Mediterranean," wrote the First Lord, Spencer, in urging the move, "is a condition on which the fate of Europe may be stated to depend."

Before a strong northwest wind the French armada on May 19 left Toulon—13 of the line, 13 smaller vessels, and a fleet of transports which when joined by contingents from Genoa, Corsica, and Civita Vecchia brought the total to 400 sail, crowded with over 30,000 troops. Of the fighting fleet there is the usual tale of ships carelessly fitted out, one-third short-handed, and supplied with but two months' food—a tale which simply points the truth that the winning of naval campaigns begins months or years before.

The gale from which the French found shelter under Sardinia and Corsica fell later with full force on Nelson to the westward of the islands. His flagship the Vanguard lost her foremast and remaining topmasts, while at the same time his four frigates, so essential in the search that followed, were scattered and failed to rejoin. Having by extraordinary exertions refitted in Sardinia in the short space of four days, he was soon again off Toulon, but did not learn of the enemy's departure until May 31, and even then he got no clue as to where they had gone. Here he was joined on June 7 by the promised reËnforcements, bringing his squadron to 13 74's and the Leander of 50 guns.

The ensuing search continued for two months, until August 1, the date of the Battle of the Nile. During this period, Nelson appears to best advantage; in the words of David Hannay, he was an "embodied flame of resolution, with none of the vulgar bluster that was to appear later."

Moving slowly southward, the French flotilla had spent ten days in the occupation of Malta—the surrender of which was chiefly due to French influence among the Knights of St. John who held the island—and departed on June 19 for their destination, following a circuitous route along the south side of Crete and thence to the African coast 70 miles west of Alexandria.

Learning off Cape Passaro on the 22d of the enemy's departure from Malta, Nelson made direct for Alexandria under fair wind and press of sail. He reached the port two days ahead of Bonaparte, and finding it empty, at once set out to retrace his course, his impetuous energy betraying him into what was undoubtedly a hasty move. The two fleets had been but 60 miles apart on the night of the 25th. Had they met, though Bonaparte had done his utmost by organization and drill to prepare for such an emergency, a French disaster would have been almost inevitable, and Napoleon, in the amusingly partisan words of Nelson's biographer Southey, "would have escaped those later crimes that have incarnadined his soul." Nelson had planned in case of such an encounter to detach three of his ships to attack the transports.

The trying month that now intervened, spent by the British fleet in a vain search along the northern coast of the Mediterranean, a brief stop at Syracuse for water and supplies, and return, was not wholly wasted, for during this time the commander in chief was in frequent consultation with his captains, securing their hearty support, and familiarizing them with his plans for action in whatever circumstances a meeting might occur. An interesting reference to this practice of Nelson's appears in a later characterization of him written by the French Admiral DÉcres to Napoleon. "His boastfulness," so the comment runs, "is only equalled by his ineptitude, but he has the saving quality of making no pretense to any other virtues than boldness and good nature, so that he is accessible to the counsels of those under him." As to who dominated these conferences and who profited by them we may form our own opinion. It was by such means that Nelson fostered a spirit of full coÖperation and mutual confidence between himself and his subordinates which justified his affectionate phrase, "a band of brothers."

The result was seen at the Nile. If rapid action lost the chance of battle a month before, it did much to insure victory when the opportunity came, and it was made possible by each captain's full grasp of what was to be done. "Time is everything," to quote a familiar phrase of Nelson; "five minutes may spell the difference between victory and defeat." It was two in the afternoon when the British, after looking into Alexandria, first sighted the French fleet at anchor in Aboukir Bay, and it was just sundown when the leading ship Goliath rounded the Guerrier's bows. The battle was fought in darkness. In the face of a fleet protected by shoals and shore batteries, with no trustworthy charts or pilots, with ships still widely separated by their varying speeds, a less thoroughly drilled force under a less ardent leader would have felt the necessity of delaying action until the following day. Nelson never hesitated. His ships went into action in the order in which they reached the scene.

The almost decisive advantage thus gained is evident from the confusion which then reigned in Aboukir Bay. In spite of the repeated letters from Bonaparte urging him to secure his fleet in Alexandria harbor, in spite of repeated soundings which showed this course possible, the French Admiral Brueys with a kind of despondent inertia still lay in this exposed anchorage at the Rosetta mouth of the Nile. Mortars and cannon had been mounted on Aboukir point, but it was known that their range did not cover the head of the French line. The frigates and scout vessels that might have given more timely warning were at anchor in the bay. Numerous water parties were on shore and with them the ships' boats needed to stretch cables from one vessel to another and rig gear for winding ships, as had been vaguely planned. At a hurried council it was proposed to put to sea, but this was given up for the sufficient reason that there was no time. The French were cleared for action only on the out-board side. Their admiral was chiefly fearful of attack in the rear, a fear reasonable enough if his ships had been sailing before the wind at sea; but at anchor, with the Aboukir batteries ineffective and the wind blowing directly down the line, attack upon the van would be far more dangerous, since support could less easily be brought up from the rear.

It was on the head of the line that the attack came. Nelson had given the one signal that "his intention was to attack the van and center as they lay at anchor, according to the plan before developed." This plan called for doubling, two ships to the enemy's one. With a fair wind from the north-northwest Captain Foley in the Goliath at 6 p.m. reached the Guerrier, the headmost of the thirteen ships in the enemy line. Either by instant initiative, or more likely in accordance with previous plans in view of such an opportunity, he took his ship inside the line, his anchor dragging slightly so as to bring him up on the quarter of the second enemy vessel, the ConquÉrant. The Zealous, following closely, anchored on the bows of the Guerrier; the Orion engaged inside the fifth ship; the Theseus inside the third; and the Audacious, passing between the first two of the enemy, brought up on the ConquÉrant's bow. With these five engaged inside, Nelson in the Vanguard and the two ships following him engaged respectively outside the third, fourth and fifth of the enemy. Thus the concentration on the van was eight to five.

About a half hour later the Bellerophon and the Majestic attacked respectively the big flagship Orient (110) in the center and the Tonnant (80) next astern, and against these superior antagonists suffered severely, losing in killed and wounded 390 men divided about equally between them, which was nearly half the total loss of 896 and greater than the total at Cape St. Vincent. Both later drifted almost helpless down the line. The Culloden under Troubridge, a favorite of both Jervis and Nelson, had unfortunately grounded and stuck fast on Aboukir shoal; but the Swiftsure and the Alexander came up two hours after the battle had begun as a support to the ships in the centre, the Swiftsure engaging the Orient, and the Alexander the Franklin next ahead, while the smaller Leander skillfully chose a position where she could rake the two. By this time all five of the French van had surrendered; the Orient was in flames and blew up about 10 o'clock with the loss of all but 70 men. Admiral Brueys, thrice wounded, died before the explosion. Of the four ships in the rear, only two, the Guillaume Tell under Admiral Villeneuve and the GÉnÉreux, were able to cut their cables next morning and get away. Nelson asserted that, had he not been incapacitated by a severe scalp wound in the action, even these would not have escaped. Of the rest, two were burned and nine captured. Among important naval victories, aside from such one-sided slaughters as those of our own Spanish war, it remains the most overwhelming in history.

The effect was immediate throughout Europe, attesting dearly the contemporary importance attached to sea control. "It was this battle," writes Admiral de la GraviÈre, "which for two years delivered over the Mediterranean to the British and called thither the squadrons of Russia, which shut up our army in the midst of a hostile people and led the Porte to declare against us, which put India beyond our reach and thrust France to the brink of ruin, for it rekindled the hardly extinct war with Austria and brought Suvaroff and the Austro-Russians to our very frontiers."[1]

[Footnote 1: Guerres Maritimes, II, 129.]

The whole campaign affords an instance of an overseas expedition daringly undertaken in the face of a hostile fleet (though it should be remembered that the British were not in the Mediterranean when it was planned), reaching its destination by extraordinary good luck, and its possibilities then completely negatived by the reËstablishment of enemy naval control. The efforts of the French army to extricate itself northward through Palestine were later thwarted partly by the squadron under Commodore Sidney Smith, which captured the siege guns sent to Acre by sea and aided the Turks in the defense of the fortress. In October of 1799 Bonaparte escaped to France in a frigate. French fleets afterwards made various futile efforts to succor the forces left in Egypt, which finally surrendered to an army under Abercromby, just too late to strengthen the British in the peace negotiations of October, 1801.

Nelson's subsequent activities in command of naval forces in Italian waters need not detain us. Physically and nervously weakened from the effects of his wound and arduous campaign, he fell under the influence of Lady Hamilton and the wretched court of Naples, lent naval assistance to schemes of doubtful advantage to his country, and in June of 1800 incurred the displeasure of the Admiralty by direct disobedience of orders to send support to Minorca. He returned to England at the close of 1800 with the glory of his victory somewhat tarnished, and with blemishes on his private character which unfortunately, as will be seen, affected also his professional reputation.

The Copenhagen Campaign

Under the rapid scene-shifting of Napoleon, the political stage had by this time undergone another complete change from that which followed the battle of the Nile. Partly at least as a consequence of that battle, the so-called Second Coalition had been formed by Great Britain, Russia, and Austria, the armies of the two latter powers, as already stated, carrying the war again to the French frontiers. It required only the presence of Bonaparte, in supreme control after the coup d'État of the Eighteenth Brumaire (9 Nov., 1799), to turn the tide, rehabilitate the internal administration of France, and by the victories of Marengo in June and Hohenlinden in December of 1800 to force Austria once more to a separate peace. Paul I of Russia had already fallen out with his allies and withdrawn his armies and his great general, Suvaroff, a year before. Now, taken with a romantic admiration for Napoleon, and angry when the British, after retaking Malta, refused to turn it over to him as Grand Master of the Knights of St. John, he was easily manipulated by Napoleon into active support of the latter's next move against England.

This was the Armed Neutrality of 1800, the object of which, from the French standpoint, was to close to England the markets of the North, and combine against her the naval forces of the Baltic. Under French and Russian pressure, and in spite of the fact that all these northern nations stood to suffer in one way or another from rupture of trade relations with England, the coalition was accomplished in December, 1800; Russia, Prussia, Sweden, and Denmark pledging themselves to resist infringements of neutral rights, whether by extension of contraband lists, seizure of enemy goods under neutral flag, search of vessels guaranteed innocent by their naval escort, or by other methods familiar then as in later times. These were measures which England, aiming both to ruin the trade of France and to cut off her naval supplies, felt bound to insist upon as the belligerent privileges of sea power.

To overcome this new danger called for a mixture of force and diplomacy, which England supplied by sending to Denmark an envoy with a 48-hour ultimatum, and along with him 20 ships-of-the-line, which according to Nelson were "the best negotiators in Europe." The commander in chief of this squadron was Sir Hyde Parker, a hesitant and mediocre leader who could be trusted to do nothing (if that were necessary), and Nelson was made second in command. Influence, seniority, a clean record, and what-not, often lead to such choices, bad enough at any time but indefensible in time of war. Fortunately for England, when the reply of the Danish court showed that force was required, the two admirals virtually changed places with less friction than might have been expected, and Nelson "Lifted and carried on his shoulders the dead weight of his superior,"[1] throughout the ensuing campaign.

[Footnote 1: Mahan, Influence of Sea Power upon French Revolution and Empire, II, 52.]

When the envoy on March 23 returned to the fleet, then anchored in the Cattegat, he brought an alarming tale of Danish preparations, and an air of gloom pervaded the flagship when Nelson came aboard for a council of war. Copenhagen, it will be recalled, is situated on the eastern coast of Zealand, on the waterway called the Sound leading southward from the Cattegat to the Baltic. Directly in front of the city, a long shoal named the Middle Ground separates the Sound into two navigable channels, the one nearer Copenhagen known as the King's Deep (Kongedyb). The defenses of the Danish capital, so the envoy reported, were planned against attack from the northward. At this end of the line the formidable Trekroner Battery (68 guns), together with two ships-of-the-line and some smaller vessels, defended the narrow entrance to the harbor; while protecting the city to the southward, along the flats at the edge of the King's Deep, was drawn up an array of about 37 craft ranging from ships-of-the-line to mere scows, mounting a total of 628 guns, and supported at some distance by batteries on land. Filled with patriotic ardor, half the male population of the city had volunteered to support the forces manning these batteries afloat and ashore.

Nelson's plan for meeting these obstacles, as well as his view of the whole situation, as presented at the council, was embodied in a memorandum dated the following day, which well illustrates his grasp of a general strategic problem. The Government's instructions, as well as Parker's preference, were apparently to wait in the Cattegat until the combined enemy forces should choose to come out and fight. Instead, the second in command advocated immediate action. "Not a moment," he wrote, "should be lost in attacking the enemy; they will every day and hour be stronger." The best course, in his opinion, would be to take the whole fleet at once into the Baltic against Russia, as a "home stroke," which if successful would bring down the coalition like a house of cards. If the Danes must first be dealt with, he proposed, instead of a direct attack, which would be "taking the bull by the horns," an attack from the rear. In order to do so, the fleet could get beyond the city either by passing through the Great Belt south of Zealand, or directly through the Sound. Another resultant advantage, in case the five Swedish sail of the line or the 14 Russian ships at Revel should take the offensive, would be that of central position, between the enemy divisions.

"Supposing us through the Belt," the letter concludes, "with the wind northwesterly, would it not be possible to either go with the fleet or detach ten Ships of three and two decks, with one Bomb and two Fireships, to Revel, to destroy the Russian squadron at that place? I do not see the great risk of such a detachment, and with the remainder to attempt the business at Copenhagen. The measure may be thought bold, but I am of the opinion that the boldest measures are the safest; and our Country demands a most vigorous assertion of her force, directed with judgment."

Here was a striking plan of aggressive warfare, aimed at the heart of the coalition. The proposal to leave part of the fleet at Copenhagen was indeed a dangerous compromise, involving divided forces and threatened communications, but was perhaps justified by the known inefficiency of the Russians and the fact that the Danes were actually fought and defeated with a force no greater than the plan provided. In the end the more conservative course was adopted of settling with Denmark first. Keeping well to the eastern shore, the fleet on March 30 passed into the Sound without injury from the fire of the Kronenburg forts at its entrance, and anchored that evening near Copenhagen.

Three days later, on April 2, 1801, the attack was made as planned, from the southward end of the Middle Ground. Nelson in the Elephant commanded the fighting squadron, which consisted of seven 74's, three 64's and two of 50 guns, with 18 bomb vessels, sloops, and fireships. The rest of the ships, under Parker, were anchored at the other end of the shoal and 5 miles north of the city; it seems they were to have coÖperated, but the south wind which Nelson needed made attack impossible for them. Against the Danish total of 696 guns on the ships and Trekroner fortification, Nelson's squadron had 1014, but three of his main units grounded during the approach and were of little service. There was no effort at concentration, the British when in position engaging the whole southern part of the Danish line. "Here," in the words of Nelson's later description, "was no maneuvering; it was downright fighting"—a hotly contested action against ships and shore batteries lasting from 10 a. m., when the Elephant led into position on the bow of Commodore Fischer's flagship Dannebroge, until about one.

In the midst of the engagement, as Nelson restlessly paced the quarterdeck, he caught sight of the signal "Leave off action" flown from Sir Hyde's flagship. Instead of transmitting the signal to the vessels under him, Nelson kept his own for "Close action" hoisted. Colonel Stewart, who was on board at the time, continues the story as follows: "He also observed, I believe to Captain Foley, 'You know, Foley, I have only one eye—I have a right to be blind sometimes'; and then with an archness peculiar to his character, putting the glass to his blind eye, he exclaimed, 'I really do not see the signal.'" It was obeyed, however, by the light vessels under Captain Riou attacking the Trekroner battery, which were suffering severely, and which could also more easily effect a retreat.

Shortly afterward the Danish fire began to slacken and several of the floating batteries surrendered, though before they could be taken they were frequently remanned by fresh forces from the shore. Enough had been accomplished; and to end a difficult situation—if not to extricate himself from it—Nelson sent the following summons addressed "To the brothers of Englishmen, the Danes": "Lord Nelson has orders to spare Denmark when no longer resisting; if the firing is continued on the part of Denmark, Lord Nelson will be obliged to set fire to the floating batteries he has taken, without having the power of saving the brave Danes who have defended them."

A truce followed, during which Nelson removed his ships. Next day he went ashore to open negotiations, while at the same time he brought bomb vessels into position to bombard the city. The cessation of hostilities was the more readily agreed to by the Danes owing to the fact that on the night before the battle they had received news, which they still kept concealed from the British, of the assassination of the Czar Paul. His successor, they knew, would be forced to adopt a policy more favorable to the true interests of Russian trade. The league in fact was on the verge of collapse. A fourteen weeks' armistice was signed with Denmark. On April 12 the fleet moved into the Baltic, and on May 5, Nelson having succeeded Parker in command, it went on to Revel, whence the Russian squadron had escaped through the ice to Kronstadt ten days before. On June 17 a convention was signed with Russia and later accepted by the other northern states, by which Great Britain conceded that neutrals might engage in trade from one enemy port to another, with the important exception of colonial ports, and that naval stores should not be contraband; whereas Russia agreed that enemy goods under certain conditions might be seized in neutral ships, and that vessels under naval escort might be searched by ships-of-war. In the meantime, Nelson, realizing that active operations were over with, resigned his command.

In the opinion of the French naval critic GraviÈre, the campaign thus ended constitutes in the eyes of seamen Nelson's best title to fame—"son plus beau titre gloire."[1] Certainly it called forth the most varied talents—grasp of the political and strategical situation; tact and force of personality in dealing with an inert commander in chief; energy in overcoming not only military obstacles but the doubts and scruples of fellow officers; aggressiveness in battle; and skill in negotiations. In view of the Czar's murder—of which the British Government would seem to have had an inkling beforehand—it may be thought that less strenuous methods would have served. On the contrary, however, hundreds of British merchant vessels had been seized in northern ports, trade had been stopped, and the nation was threatened with a dangerous increment to her foes. Furthermore, after a brief interval of peace, Great Britain had to face ten years more of desperate warfare, during which nothing served her better than that at Copenhagen the northern neutrals had had a sharp taste of British naval power. Force was needed. That it was employed economically is shown by the fact that, when a renewal of peace between France and Russia in 1807 again threatened a northern confederation, Nelson's accomplishment with 12 ships was duplicated, but this time with 25 of the line, 40 frigates, 27,000 troops, the bombardment of Copenhagen, and a regular land campaign.

[Footnote 1: Guerres Maritimes, Vol. II, p. 43.]

Upon Nelson's return to England, popular clamor practically forced his appointment to command the Channel defense flotilla against the French armies which were now once more concentrated on the northern coast. This service lasted for only a brief period until the signing of peace preliminaries in October, 1801.

During the eight years of hostilities thus ended Great Britain, it is true, had been fighting largely on the defensive, but on a line of defense carried to the enemy's sea frontiers and comparable to siege lines about a city or fortress, which, when once established, thrust upon the enemy the problem of breaking through. The efforts of France to pierce this barrier, exerted in various directions and by various means, were, as we have seen, defeated by naval engagements, which insured to England the control of the sea. During this period, France lost altogether 55 ships-of-the-line, Holland 18, Spain 10, and Denmark 2, a total of 85, of which at least 50 were captured by the enemy. Great Britain lost 20, but only 5 by capture. The British battle fleet at the close of hostilities had increased to 189 capital ships; that of France had shrunk to 45.

For purposes of commerce warfare the French navy had suffered the withdrawal of many of its smaller fighting vessels and large numbers of its best seamen, attracted into privateering by the better promise of profit and adventure. As a result of this warfare, about 3500 British merchantmen were destroyed, an average of 500 a year, representing an annual loss of 2-1/2 per cent of all the ships of British register. But in the meantime the French merchant marine and commerce had been literally swept off the seas. In 1799 the Directory admitted there was "not a single merchant ship on the seas carrying the French flag." French imports from Asia, Africa, and America in 1800 amounted to only $300,000, and exports to $56,000, whereas England's total export and import trade had nearly doubled, from 44-1/2 million pounds sterling in 1792 to nearly 78 million in 1800. It is true that, owing to the exigencies of war, the amount of British shipping employed in this trade actually fell off slightly, and that of neutrals increased from 13 to 34%. But the profits went chiefly to British merchants. England had become the great storehouse and carrier for the Continent, "Commerce," in the phrase engraved on the elder Pitt's monument, "being united with and made to flourish by war."[1]

[Footnote 1: Figures on naval losses from GraviÈre, Guerres Maritimes, Vol. II, ch. VII, and on commerce, from Mahan, French Revolution and Empire, Vol. II, ch. XVII.]

REFERENCES

See end of Chapter XIII, page 285.