FOOTNOTES:
[41] It is evident that this must have involved a compliment personal to Nelson.
[42] See Plate, Figure 1.
[43] See Plate, Figure 2.
[44] Captured.
[45] That is, the weather division,—the eighteen ships.
[46] That is, was left in.
[47] Shrouds are large ropes which support the masts.
[48] See Plate, Figure 3.
[49] The italics are the author's.
[50] In his letter to Nelson this is thirteen, but evidently a slip. His log of the action says forty-three.
[51] Both papers are headed: "A few remarks relative to myself in the Captain," etc. It is unfortunate that Nicolas, in giving these two papers, puts first the one which, from internal indications, is (in the author's judgment) the later in date.
[52] Author's italics.
[53] Hailed to stop firing because the "San Nicolas" had surrendered.
[54] See ante, page 89.
[55] That is, at sea, the main fleet being still in the Tagus.
[56] Cut, or let go, the cables,—leaving the anchor in haste, instead of raising it from the bottom.
[57] The British seamen.
[58] The night conflict with the Spanish launches.
CHAPTER IX.
THE UNSUCCESSFUL ATTEMPT AGAINST TENERIFFE.—NELSON LOSES HIS RIGHT ARM.—RETURN TO ENGLAND.—REJOINS ST. VINCENT'S FLEET, AND SENT INTO THE MEDITERRANEAN TO WATCH THE TOULON ARMAMENT.
JULY, 1797-APRIL, 1798. AGE, 39.
Too much success is not wholly desirable; an occasional beating is good for men—and nations. When Nelson wrote the words with which the preceding chapter ends, he was on the eve of a sharp reverse, met in attempting an enterprise that had occupied his thoughts for more than three months. While cruising for the Viceroy of Mexico, before Jervis left Lisbon with the fleet, he had considered the possibility of the enemy's treasure-ships, warned of their danger, taking refuge in the Canary Islands, which belong to Spain. Meditating upon the contingency, he had formed a project of seizing them there, and probably had already suggested the matter to Jervis, taking advantage of the freedom permitted him by the latter in advancing opinions. However that be, immediately before he started to meet the Elba convoy, the commander-in-chief asked for his plan, which he submitted in writing, after talking it over with Troubridge, his intimate friend, upon whose judgment Jervis also greatly relied. Regarded as a purely naval expedition, Nelson pointed out that it was subject to great uncertainties, because, the land being very high, the wind could not be depended on. It might blow in from the sea, but if so it would be by daylight, which would deprive the attack of the benefits of a surprise; while at night the land wind was too fitful and unreliable to assure the ships reaching their anchorage before the enemy could discover them, and have time for adequate preparation against assault.
For these reasons, certainty of success would depend upon co-operation by the army, and for that Nelson suggested that the Elba troops, over three thousand strong, already in transports and on their way, would provide a force at once available and sufficient. Save a naval dash by Blake, more than a century before, Teneriffe had never been seriously attacked. Probably, therefore, the heights commanding the town of Santa Cruz had not been fortified, and could be easily seized by the detachment designated; besides which, the water supply was exposed to interruption by an outside enemy. If only General De Burgh could be persuaded, Nelson was sure of success, and offered himself to command the naval contingent. Failing the consent of De Burgh, whom he and Jervis both thought deficient in moral courage to undertake responsibility, could not the admiral get assistance from O'Hara, the governor of Gibraltar, who would have at his disposal one thousand to fifteen hundred men? More would be better, but still with that number success would be probable. "Soldiers," regretted Nelson characteristically, "have not the same boldness in undertaking a political measure that we have; we look to the benefit of our Country and risk our own fame [not life merely] every day to serve her: a soldier obeys his orders and no more." But he thought O'Hara an exception, and then—could not the substantial advantages move him? The public treasure of Spain that might be seized would be six or seven millions sterling. Think what that sum would be, "thrown into circulation in England!" where specie payments had just been suspended. It was nearly a year's value of the subsidies which Great Britain was lavishing on the general war. Whatever the merits of Nelson's judgment upon the soldiers of his day, this avowal of readiness, for the nation's sake, to risk fame—reputation—which was in his eyes the dearest of possessions, should not be overlooked. It was the best he had to give; to hazard life was but a vulgar thing compared to it. His career, both before and after, fully bore out the boast.
While on the return with the Elba troops, in a despatch sent ahead of the convoy, he jogs Jervis's memory about O'Hara, having doubtless ascertained that De Burgh, as they expected, would not deviate from his orders to proceed to Lisbon. "I hope you will press General O'Hara about Teneriffe. What a strike it would be!" In a copy of this letter forwarded to the Admiralty, presumably by Jervis for its general information, these words were omitted. Possibly he had already sounded O'Hara, and found him unwilling, for he was not optimistic; possibly Jervis himself thought that the fitting conditions had not yet obtained, and did not care to let the idea get abroad before the hour for execution arrived. For the time, the commander-in-chief preferred to keep his fleet concentrated before Cadiz, and to try to worry the enemy out to battle; for which object, indisputably the most advantageous to be pursued, he also naturally wished to use his most active and efficient subordinate. Both blockade and bombardment having failed to provoke the enemy to action, and intelligence having been received that a treasure-ship from Manila had put into Teneriffe, it was decided in July to make the attempt, which had only been postponed—never abandoned. In words written by Nelson on the 18th of June, the conditions determining Jervis's course are clearly indicated. "I wish these fellows would come out, and then, with the good ships we have left [after a general engagement], we might be a little at liberty to make dashes. I hope your design about Teneriffe will not get wind, by making inquiries at the present moment. Whenever I see it," he added characteristically, "ten hours shall decide its fate." Although unable to obtain the troops upon which he considered certainty to depend, he felt little fear for the result. Two hundred additional marines must be given, and certain specified artillery and ammunition in excess of what he had. With these, "I have no doubt of doing the job as it ought to be, the moment the ships come in sight." "Under General Troubridge ashore, and myself afloat, I am confident of success."
Sketch Of Santa Cruz And Surroundings.
(From Nelson's Journal.)
On the 14th of July he received his orders, which were to seize Santa Cruz, the chief town, and hold the island to ransom, unless all public treasure were surrendered to his squadron, in which case the contribution on the inhabitants should not be levied. "God bless and prosper you," wrote Jervis, who, although he considered the enterprise promising, was less sanguine than his junior. "I am sure you will deserve success. To mortals is not given the power of commanding it." On the 15th Nelson sailed, having under his command three seventy-fours, a fifty-gun ship, three frigates, and a cutter. Towards sundown of the 20th the Peak of Teneriffe was sighted, distant fifty or sixty miles. The following morning the landing-party, a thousand strong, under the command of Captain Troubridge, was transferred to the frigates. The intention was to keep the line-of-battle-ships out of sight, while the frigates, whose apparent force would carry no impression of menace, approached near enough to make a dash during the night. It was hoped that thus the assault might be so far a surprise as to enable the British to storm from the rear a fort on the heights, to the northeast of the town, and commanding it. Santa Cruz was then to be summoned. In the meantime the ships-of-the-line would be coming in from the sea, and upon arrival would support the shore movement by bringing their broadsides to bear upon the walls.
By midnight the frigates were within three miles of the landing-place; but there strong wind and contrary current delayed them, and before they could get within a mile the day dawned. Thus discovered, the hope of surprise was lost. At 6 A.M., when the squadron approached, Troubridge went on board the "Theseus" and told Nelson that he thought, if the heights over the fort, in its rear, could be seized, he could yet compel it to surrender. The landing-party was therefore put on shore at nine, but could not dispossess the enemy, who had recognized the importance of the position indicated by Troubridge, and had occupied it in force. The ships-of-the-line endeavored to get within range of the fort, to batter it, but could not come nearer than three miles. They were unable even to reach anchoring-ground, and, as it was blowing very fresh, they struck their topgallantmasts and stood off and on. At night Troubridge re-embarked his men on board the frigates, which had remained where they were. The following morning, July 23d, Nelson abandoned the attempt upon the fort, recalling the frigates; and, as the wind did not yet serve to approach the shore, he continued under sail during that day and the next. The members of the landing-party rejoined their proper ships.
Troubridge's failure to act at once upon his own judgment, and seize the heights above the fort, instead of waiting until he could communicate with the admiral, whereby were lost more than three invaluable hours, excites surprise, in view of the extremely high value set upon him as an officer by St. Vincent and Nelson; and is the more singular because the latter, in certain "Recommendations," dated July 17, had indicated the heights, as well as the fort, among the objects to be secured. It is, of course, possible that these Recommendations were not given out; but even so, the formal orders issued gave ample discretion. This hesitation was wholly contrary to Nelson's own readiness to assume responsibility, and probably accounts for his subsequent remark, in a private letter, that had he himself been present this first attempt would not have failed. Occurring in an officer of Troubridge's high standing, and contrasted with Nelson's action at St. Vincent, as well as on many other occasions, the incident serves to bring out forcibly the characteristic eminence of the latter,—the distinction between a really great captain and the best type of a simply accomplished and gallant officer. It may safely be said that had Nelson been in the frigates that morning, and thought as Troubridge thought, he would either have had the heights without waiting for orders, or, to use his own words on a former occasion, would have "been in a confounded scrape."
His first plan having miscarried, Nelson was nevertheless unwilling to forsake the enterprise wholly, without attempting a direct assault upon the town itself. Meantime the enemy was not idle, but employed the delay caused by the wind to collect a greater force, and to develop further the preparations to repel attack. At half-past five in the evening of July 24 the squadron reached an anchorage two or three miles north of Santa Cruz, and all boats were ordered prepared for a night expedition. Captain Freemantle, of the frigate "Seahorse," had with him his wife, whom he had lately married; and with them Nelson, who intended to lead the attack in person, supped that evening. He was conscious of the imminent danger to which he was about to expose himself and his followers; it is indeed scarcely possible that he could, in undertaking the adventure, have expected to succeed, except through some happy accident skilfully improved,—the deserved good fortune which had so often attended him. It was not so much the hope of victory that moved him, as the feeling that to retreat baffled, without a further effort, would be worse than defeat. This in fact was the reason which he afterwards gave. "Although I felt the second attack a forlorn hope, yet the honour of our Country called for the attack, and that I should command it. I never expected to return." "Your partiality will give me credit," he wrote to Jervis, "that all has hitherto been done which was possible, but without effect: this night I, humble as I am, command the whole, destined to land under the batteries of the town, and to-morrow my head will probably be crowned with either laurel or cypress. I have only to recommend Josiah Nisbet [his stepson] to you and my Country." He urged Nisbet not to go in the boats, on the ground that his mother should not run the risk of losing both husband and son in one night, and that in the absence of Captain Miller, who was going in charge of a division of men, Nisbet's duties with the ship demanded his remaining. Nisbet steadily refused, and his presence was the immediate means of saving the admiral's life.
At eleven P.M. the boats shoved off, carrying a thousand men. The orders were for all to land at the mole, the intention being to storm it, and the batteries covering it, in a body, and to fight their way, thus massed, to the great square, which was designated as the place for rallying. A considerable sea was running and the night dark, so that the Spaniards did not discover the assailants till they were within half gunshot. The bells of the place then began to ring, and a heavy fire opened, amid which the British pushed vigorously forward. Many, however, missed the mole. Nelson's own boat reached it with four or five besides, and the parties from these succeeded in carrying the mole itself, advancing to its head and spiking the guns; but there they were met with such a sustained fire of musketry and grape from the citadel and the neighboring houses, that they could get no farther. Many were killed and wounded, and the rest after a struggle had to retreat.
Troubridge, with a number of others who missed the mole, landed amid a heavy surf, which stove the boats on a rocky beach and tumbled the men into the water, whereby most of the ammunition was spoiled. In the midst of the turmoil the cutter "Fox" was struck by a shot under water, and went down, taking with her her commander and ninety-seven men. Although the scaling-ladders had all been lost in the general upset, those who here got on shore succeeded in climbing over the walls, and forced their way to the place of rendezvous in the great square. There Troubridge, having assembled between three and four hundred men, held his ground, awaiting Nelson and the party that might have entered by way of the mole.
Sir Thomas Troubridge
It was in vain. Nelson had been struck by a grapeshot in the right elbow, as, with sword drawn, he was stepping from the boat to the landing. Bleeding profusely and faint, but clinging with his left hand to the sword, which had belonged to his uncle Maurice Suckling, he fell back into the arms of Josiah Nisbet, who managed with considerable presence of mind to bind up the shattered limb and stop the flowing of the blood. A few men being got together, the boat pushed off to take the admiral back to the ship. At this moment occurred the sinking of the "Fox;" upon which much delay ensued, because Nelson refused to abandon the men struggling in the water, and insisted upon looking personally to their being saved. At last the "Seahorse" was reached; but here again he would not go on board, saying that he would not have Mrs. Freemantle alarmed by seeing him in such a condition and without any news of her husband, who had accompanied the landing. When he got to the "Theseus," he declined assistance to climb to the deck. "At two in the morning," wrote Hoste, one of her midshipmen, who had been with him continuously since the "Agamemnon" left England, "Admiral Nelson returned on board, being dreadfully wounded in the right arm. I leave you to judge of my situation, when I beheld our boat approach with him, who I may say has been a second father to me, his right arm dangling by his side, while with the other he helped himself to jump up the ship's side, and with a spirit that astonished every one, told the surgeon to get his instruments ready, for he knew he must lose his arm, and that the sooner it was off the better."
At daylight Troubridge, who had collected some ammunition from Spanish prisoners, started from the square to try what could be done without ladders against the citadel; but, finding every approach blocked by overwhelming force, he had to retreat. Having neither powder nor provisions, and no boats with which to return to the ship, he sent a flag of truce to the governor to say that he was prepared to burn the place down with means at his disposal, but, being most reluctant to do so, was willing to treat, upon condition of the whole party being permitted to return to the ships, free and with their arms. One scarcely knows which most to admire, Troubridge's cool audacity in making such a demand, or the chivalrous readiness with which these honorable terms were at once granted to a man whose gallant bearing compelled the esteem of his enemies. Don Juan Gutierrez had repulsed the various attempts with such steadiness and watchfulness, had managed his business so well, that he could afford to be liberal. He agreed that Troubridge's men should withdraw, carrying off with them all British equipments, even to such boats as had been taken by the Spaniards, but could still swim. On the other hand, it was stipulated that no further attempt upon the town should be made by Nelson's squadron. Prisoners on both sides were to be given up. This arrangement having been concluded, the governor directed that the British wounded should be at once received into the hospitals, while the rest of the party, with their colors flying, marched to the mole, and there embarked.
Troubridge dwelt with evident pride upon his part in this night's work,—a pride that was shared then by his superiors, and will be justified in the eyes of military men now. "The Spanish officers assure me they expected us, and were perfectly prepared with all the batteries, and the number of men I have before mentioned [8,000], under arms: with the great disadvantage of a rocky coast, high surf, and in the face of forty pieces of cannon, though we were not successful, will show what an Englishman is equal to." His conduct affords for all time an example of superb courage in the face of extraordinary and unexpected difficulty and danger, and especially of single-minded energy in carrying through one's own share of an enterprise, without misplaced concern about consequences, or worry as to whether the other parties were prospering or not. Had Nelson reached the square he would have found Troubridge there, and that was the one thing about which the latter needed to care. Nelson's own words recur to mind: "I have not a thought on any subject separated from the immediate object of my command,"—a maxim eminently suited to the field and to the subordinate, though not necessarily so to the council chamber or to the general officer. Troubridge that night proved himself invaluable as a subordinate, though the conduct of the previous attempt seems to show a lack of that capacity to seize a favorable moment, although in the presence of a superior, of which Nelson himself had given so brilliant an example at Cape St. Vincent.
The squadron remained off Teneriffe for three days after the assault, intercourse with the shore for the purpose of obtaining fresh provisions being permitted by the governor, between whom and the admiral were exchanged complimentary letters and presents of courtesy. On the 27th Nelson sailed for Cadiz, and on the 16th of August rejoined the commander-in-chief, now become Earl St. Vincent. The latter received him with generous sympathy and appreciation, which leave little doubt as to what his verdict would have been, had the gallant initiative taken by his junior at St. Vincent ended in disaster, instead of in brilliant success. Nelson's letters, sent ahead of the squadron by a frigate, had shown the despondency produced by suffering and failure, which had reversed so sharply the good fortune upon which he had begun to pride himself. "I am become a burthen to my friends and useless to my Country. When I leave your command, I become dead to the world; I go hence and am no more seen." "Mortals cannot command success," replied St. Vincent. "You and your companions have certainly deserved it, by the greatest degree of heroism and perseverance that ever was exhibited." Nelson had asked for his stepson's promotion, implying that he himself would not hereafter be in a position of influence to help the boy—for he was little more. "He is under obligations to me, but he repaid me by bringing me from the mole of Santa Cruz." "He saved my life," he said more than once afterwards. St. Vincent immediately made him a commander into the vacancy caused by the death of Captain Bowen, who had fallen in the assault. "Pretty quick promotion," wrote his messmate Hoste, who probably knew, from close association, that Nisbet had not the promising qualities with which he was then credited by his stepfather, from whom in later years he became wholly estranged.
On the 20th Nelson received formal leave to return to England in the "Seahorse," and on the 3d of September his flag was hauled down at Spithead. On the way home he suffered much. After amputation the ligature had been awkwardly applied to the humeral artery. As he would not allow the surgeon to examine the stump during the passage, this was not then discovered, but the intense spasms of pain kept him irritable and depressed. It is likely, too, that his discouragement was increased by brooding over the failure of his enterprise; believing, as he did, that had he been with the landing-party, the first attempt would have succeeded. He could scarcely fail now to see that, although it was strictly in accordance with service methods for the senior to remain with the ships, the decisive point in the plan, as first formed, was the seizure of the heights, and that there, consequently, was the true place for the one in chief command. Any captain, Troubridge especially, could have placed the ships as well as Nelson. It is self-accusation, and not fault-finding merely, that breathes in the words: "Had I been with the first party, I have reason to believe complete success would have crowned our efforts. My pride suffered."
Lady Nelson
Whatever his mental distress, however, he always, from the time of receiving the wound, wrote to his wife with careful cheerfulness. "As to my health, it never was better; and now I hope soon to return to you; and my Country, I trust, will not allow me any longer to linger in want of that pecuniary assistance which I have been fighting the whole war to preserve to her. But I shall not be surprised to be neglected and forgot, as probably I shall no longer be considered as useful. However, I shall feel rich if I continue to enjoy your affection. I am fortunate in having a good surgeon on board; in short, I am much more recovered than I could have expected. I beg neither you or my father will think much of this mishap: my mind has long been made up to such an event."
Immediately after quitting the "Seahorse" he joined his wife and father at Bath. For a time the wound seemed to be progressing favorably, but the unlucky complication of the ligature threw him back. "Much pain and some fever," he wrote to a friend soon after his arrival; and while he kept up fairly before his wife, who spoke of his spirits as very good, he confessed to St. Vincent, on the 18th of September, that he was then not the least better than when he left the fleet. "I have suffered great misery." This letter was dated in London, whither he had gone a few days before to be invested with the Order of the Bath, which was formally done by George III. in person on the 27th of September. He was graciously received by the King, who conversed with him after the ceremony, and by his manner throughout made a lasting impression upon the mind of Nelson, whose loyalty was intense. The Order of the Bath remained the most highly prized among his many decorations. At the same time was awarded him a pension of £1,000 a year.
He remained in London till near Christmas. Sir Gilbert Elliot, the late Viceroy of Corsica, who about this time became Lord Minto, saw him not long after his arrival there, as did also Colonel Drinkwater. Elliot found him looking better and fresher than he ever remembered him, although the continued pain prevented sleep, except by use of opium. He was already impatient to go to sea again, and chafed under the delay of healing, concerning the duration of which the surgeons could give him no assurance. The ligature must be left to slough away, for it was two inches up the wound, and if, in attempting to cut it, the artery should be cut, another amputation would be necessary higher up, which would not be easy, for the stump was already very short. There was consequently nothing for it but endurance. To his suffering at this time an accomplished surgeon, who sailed with him shortly before Trafalgar, attributed a neuralgic predisposition under which he then labored, and which produced serious effects upon his general health.
A singular exhibition of his characteristic animation and temperament was elicited by Drinkwater's visit. The colonel saw him shortly before the naval battle of Camperdown, fought on the 11th of October. "One of the first questions which Nelson put to me was whether I had been at the Admiralty. I told him there was a rumour that the British fleet had been seen engaged with that of Holland. He started up in his peculiar energetic manner, notwithstanding Lady Nelson's attempts to quiet him, and stretching out his unwounded arm,—'Drinkwater, said he, 'I would give this other arm to be with Duncan[59] at this moment;' so unconquerable was the spirit of the man, and so intense his eagerness to give every instant of his life to the service."
Until the 4th of December his agony continued. On that day the ligature came away, giving instant and entire relief. In a letter to a friend, apologizing for delay in replying, he said: "Truly, till last Monday, I have suffered so much, I hope for your forgiveness. I am now perfectly recovered, and on the eve of being employed." On Friday, the 8th, he wrote to Captain Berry, who had led the boarders to the "San Nicolas" at Cape St. Vincent, and was designated to command the ship in which the admiral's flag should next be hoisted, saying that he was well; and the same day, with that profound recognition of a personal Providence which was with him as instinctive as his courage, he sent to a London clergyman the following request: "An officer desires to return thanks to Almighty God for his perfect recovery from a severe wound, and also for the many mercies bestowed upon him. (For next Sunday.)"
As the close attention of the skilled surgeons in whose hands he had been was now no longer needed, he returned to Bath to await the time when his flagship should be completely equipped. St. Vincent had asked that the "Foudroyant," of eighty guns, should be prepared for him; but, after his sudden recovery, as she was not yet ready, there was substituted for her the "Vanguard," seventy-four, which was commissioned by Berry at Chatham on the 19th of December. In March she had reached Portsmouth, and Nelson then went up to London, where he attended a levee on the 14th of the month and took leave of the King. On the 29th his flag was hoisted, and on the 10th of April, after a week's detention at St. Helen's by head winds, he sailed for Lisbon. There he remained for four days, and on the 30th of the month, off Cadiz, rejoined St. Vincent, by whom he was received with open arms. The veteran seaman, stern and resolved as was his bearing in the face of danger, was unhopeful about the results of the war, which from the first he had not favored, and for whose ending he was eager. Now, at sixty-four, his health was failing, and the difficulties and dangers of the British cause in the Mediterranean weighed upon him, with a discouragement very alien from the sanguine joy with which his ardent junior looked forward to coming battles. His request to be relieved from command, on the score of ill health, was already on file at the Admiralty. "I do assure your Lordship," he wrote to Earl Spencer, "that the arrival of Admiral Nelson has given me new life; you could not have gratified me more than in sending him; his presence in the Mediterranean is so very essential, that I mean to put the "Orion" and "Alexander" under his command, with the addition of three or four frigates, and send him away, to endeavour to ascertain the real object of the preparations making by the French." These preparations for a maritime expedition were being made at Toulon and the neighboring ports, on a scale which justly aroused the anxiety of the British Cabinet, as no certain information about their object had been obtained.
Nelson's departure from England on this occasion closes the first of the two periods into which his career naturally divides. From his youth until now, wherever situated, the development has been consecutive and homogeneous, external influences and internal characteristics have worked harmoniously together, nature and ambition have responded gladly to opportunity, and the course upon which they have combined to urge him has conformed to his inherited and acquired standards of right and wrong. Doubt, uncertainty, inward friction, double motives, have been unknown to him; he has moved freely in accordance with the laws of his being, and, despite the anxieties of his profession and the frailty of his health, there is no mistaking the tone of happiness and contentment which sounds without a jarring note throughout his correspondence. A change was now at hand. As the sails of the "Vanguard" dip below the horizon of England, a brief interlude begins, and when the curtain rises again, the scene is shifted,—surroundings have changed. We see again the same man, but standing at the opening of a new career, whose greatness exceeds by far even the high anticipations that had been formed for him. Before leaving England he is a man of distinction only; prominent, possibly, among the many distinguished men of his own profession, but the steady upward course has as yet been gradual, the shining of the light, if it has latterly shot forth flashes suggestive of hidden fires, is still characterized by sustained growth in intensity rather than by rapid increase. No present sign so far foretells the sudden ascent to fame, the burst of meridian splendor with which the sun of his renown was soon to rise upon men's eyes, and in which it ran its course to the cloudless finish of his day.
Not that there is in that course—in its achievements—any disproportion with the previous promise. The magnitude of the development we are about to witness is due, not to a change in him, but to the increased greatness of the opportunities. A man of like record in the past, but less gifted, might, it is true, have failed to fill the new sphere which the future was to present. Nelson proved fully equal to it, because he possessed genius for war, intellectual faculties, which, though not unsuspected, had not hitherto been allowed scope for their full exercise. Before him was now about to open a field of possibilities hitherto unexampled in naval warfare; and for the appreciation of them was needed just those perceptions, intuitive in origin, yet resting firmly on well-ordered rational processes, which, on the intellectual side, distinguished him above all other British seamen. He had already, in casual comment upon the military conditions surrounding the former Mediterranean campaigns, given indications of these perceptions, which it has been the aim of previous chapters to elicit from his correspondence, and to marshal in such order as may illustrate his mental characteristics. But, for success in war, the indispensable complement of intellectual grasp and insight is a moral power, which enables a man to trust the inner light,—to have faith,—a power which dominates hesitation, and sustains action, in the most tremendous emergencies, and which, from the formidable character of the difficulties it is called to confront, is in no men so conspicuously prominent as in those who are entitled to rank among great captains. The two elements—mental and moral power—are often found separately, rarely in due combination. In Nelson they met, and their coincidence with the exceptional opportunities afforded him constituted his good fortune and his greatness.
The intellectual endowment of genius was Nelson's from the first; but from the circumstances of his life it was denied the privilege of early manifestation, such as was permitted to Napoleon. It is, consequently, not so much this as the constant exhibition of moral power, force of character, which gives continuity to his professional career, and brings the successive stages of his advance, in achievement and reputation, from first to last, into the close relation of steady development, subject to no variation save that of healthy and vigorous growth, till he stood unique—above all competition. This it was—not, doubtless, to the exclusion of that reputation for having a head, upon which he justly prided himself—which had already fixed the eyes of his superiors upon him as the one officer, not yet indeed fully tested, most likely to cope with the difficulties of any emergency. In the display of this, in its many self-revelations,—in concentration of purpose, untiring energy, fearlessness of responsibility, judgment sound and instant, boundless audacity, promptness, intrepidity, and endurance beyond all proof,—the restricted field of Corsica and the Riviera, the subordinate position at Cape St. Vincent, the failure of Teneriffe, had in their measure been as fruitful as the Nile was soon to be, and fell naught behind the bloody harvests of Copenhagen and Trafalgar. Men have been disposed, therefore, to reckon this moral energy—call it courage, dash, resolution, what you will—as Nelson's one and only great quality. It was the greatest, as it is in all successful men of action; but to ignore that this mighty motive force was guided by singularly clear and accurate perceptions, upon which also it consciously rested with a firmness of faith that constituted much of its power, is to rob him of a great part of his due renown.
But it was not only in the greatness of the opportunities offered to Nelson that external conditions now changed. The glory of the hero brought a temptation which wrecked the happiness of the man. The loss of serenity, the dark evidences of inward conflict, of yielding against conviction, of consequent dissatisfaction with self and gradual deterioration, make between his past and future a break as clear, and far sharper than, the startling increase of radiancy that attends the Battle of the Nile, and thenceforth shines with undiminished intensity to the end. The lustre of his well-deserved and world-wide renown, the consistency and ever-rising merit of his professional conduct, contrast painfully with the shadows of reprobation, the swerving, and the declension, which begin to attend a life heretofore conformed, in the general, to healthy normal standards of right and wrong, but now allowed to violate, not merely ideal Christian rectitude, but the simple, natural dictates of upright dealing between man and man. It had been the proud boast of early years: "There is no action in my whole life but what is honourable." The attainment of glory exceeding even his own great aspirations coincides with dereliction from the plain rules of honor between friends, and with public humiliation to his wife, which he allowed himself to inflict, notwithstanding that he admitted her claims to his deferential consideration to be unbroken. In this contrast, of the exaltation of the hero and the patriot with the degradation of the man, lie the tragedy and the misery of Nelson's story. And this, too, was incurred on behalf of a woman whose reputation and conduct were such that no shred of dignity could attach to an infatuation as doting as it was blamable. The pitiful inadequacy of the temptation to the ruin it caused invests with a kind of prophecy the words he had written to his betrothed in the heyday of courtship: "These I trust will ever be my sentiments; if they are not, I do verily believe it will be my folly that occasions it."
The inward struggle, though severe, was short and decisive. Once determined on his course, he choked down scruples and hesitations, and cast them from him with the same single-minded resolution that distinguished his public acts. "Fixed as fate," were the remorseless words with which he characterized his firm purpose to trample conscience under foot, and to reject his wife in favor of his mistress. But although ease may be obtained by silencing self-reproach, safety scarcely can. One cannot get the salt out of his life, and not be the worse for it. Much that made Nelson so lovable remained to the end; but into his heart, as betrayed by his correspondence, and into his life, from the occasional glimpses afforded by letters or journals of associates, there thenceforth entered much that is unlovely, and which to no appreciable extent was seen before. The simple bonhomie, the absence of conventional reticence, the superficial lack of polish, noted by his early biographers, and which he had had no opportunity to acquire, the childlike vanity that transpires so innocently in his confidential home letters, and was only the weak side of his noble longing for heroic action, degenerated rapidly into loss of dignity of life, into an unseemly susceptibility to extravagant adulation, as he succumbed to surroundings, the corruptness of which none at first realized more clearly, and where one woman was the sole detaining fascination. And withal, as the poison worked, discontent with self bred discontent with others, and with his own conditions. Petulance and querulousness too often supplanted the mental elasticity, which had counted for naught the roughnesses on the road to fame. The mind not worthily occupied, and therefore ill at ease, became embittered, prone to censure and to resent, suspicious at times and harsh in judgment, gradually tending towards alienation, not from his wife only, but from his best and earliest friends.
During the short stay of seven months in England, which ended with the sailing of the "Vanguard," the record of his correspondence is necessarily very imperfect, both from the loss of his arm, and from the fact of his being with his family. Such indications as there are point to unbroken relations of tenderness with his wife. "I found my domestic happiness perfect," he wrote to Lord St. Vincent, shortly after his arrival home; and some months later, in a letter from Bath to a friend, he says jestingly: "Tell—that I possess his place in Mr. Palmer's box; but he did not tell me all its charms, that generally some of the handsomest ladies in Bath are partakers in the box, and was I a bachelor I would not answer for being tempted; but as I am possessed of everything which is valuable in a wife, I have no occasion to think beyond a pretty face." Lady Nelson attended personally to the dressing of his arm; she accompanied him in his journeys between Bath and London, and they separated only when he left town to hoist his flag at Portsmouth. The letters of Lady Saumarez, the wife of one of his brother captains then serving with Lord St. Vincent, mention frequent meetings with the two together in the streets of Bath; and upon the 1st of May, the day before leaving the fleet off Cadiz for the Mediterranean, on the expedition which was to result in the Nile, and all the consequences so fatal to the happiness of both, he concludes his letter, "with every kind wish that a fond heart can frame, believe me, as ever, your most affectionate husband."
On the 2d of May the "Vanguard" quitted the fleet for Gibraltar, where she arrived on the 4th. On the 7th Nelson issued orders to Sir James Saumarez, commanding the "Orion," and to Captain Alexander Ball, commanding the "Alexander," both seventy-fours, to place themselves under his command; and the following day the "Vanguard" sailed, in company with these ships and five smaller vessels, to begin the memorable campaign, of which the Battle of the Nile was the most conspicuous incident.