NELSON'S SERVICES IN THE MEDITERRANEAN DURING THE YEAR 1796.—BONAPARTE'S ITALIAN CAMPAIGN.—THE BRITISH ABANDON CORSICA, AND THE FLEET LEAVES THE MEDITERRANEAN.

JANUARY-DECEMBER, 1796. AGE, 38.

While the "Agamemnon" was refitting in Leghorn, the sensitive mind of her captain, no longer preoccupied with the cares of campaigning and negotiations, dwelt with restless anxiety upon the reflections to which the British Navy was liable, for its alleged failure to support the Austrians throughout the operations, and especially at the critical moment of the Battle of Loano, when the left flank of their army was harassed with impunity by the French gunboats. Nelson felt rightly that, with the British superiority at sea, this should have been impossible; and he feared that his own name might be unpleasantly involved, from the fact that the "Agamemnon" had remained throughout at Genoa, instead of being where the fighting was. He was by nature, and at all times, over-forward to self-vindication,—an infirmity springing from the innate nobility of his temperament, which was impatient of the faintest suspicion of backwardness or negligence, and at the same time resolved that for any shortcoming or blunder, occurring by his order or sanction, no other than himself should bear blame, directly or indirectly.

After the first unsuccessful pursuit of Bonaparte's expedition to Egypt, in 1798, in the keenness of his emotions over a failure that might by some be charged to a precipitate error of judgment, he drew up for Lord St. Vincent a clear and able statement of all the reasons which had determined his action, arraigning himself, as it were, at the bar of his lordship's opinion and that of the nation, and assuming entire responsibility for the apparent mistake, while at the same time justifying the step by a review of the various considerations which at the time had occasioned it. His judicious friend and subordinate, Captain Ball, whom he consulted, strongly advised him not to send the paper. "I was particularly struck," he wrote, "with the clear and accurate style, as well as with the candour of the statement in your letter, but I should recommend a friend never to begin a defence of his conduct before he is accused of error." Nevertheless, in February, 1805, when he once more went to Alexandria in search of Villeneuve, this time really misled by the elaborate mystifications of Napoleon, he again brought himself before the Admiralty. "I am entirely responsible to my King and Country for the whole of my conduct ... I have consulted no man, therefore the whole blame of ignorance in forming my judgment must rest with me. I would allow no man to take from me an atom of my glory, had I fallen in with the French fleet, nor do I desire any man to partake any of the responsibility—all is mine, right or wrong."

In 1795, being a much younger man, of less experience of the world, and with a reputation, already brilliant indeed, but still awaiting the stamp of solidity which the lapse of time alone can give, Nelson felt strongly, and not improperly, that it was necessary to be vigilant against any possible imputations upon his action. This was the more true, because blame certainly did attach to the service of which he was the representative on the spot, and the course he had been obliged to follow kept him to the rear instead of at the front. There would have been no greater personal danger to a man on board the "Agamemnon" in one place than in the other; but current rumor, seeking a victim, does not pause to analyze conditions. Not only, therefore, did he draw up for Sir John Jervis a succinct synopsis of occurrences subsequent to his taking command of the operations along the Riviera, in which he combined a justification of his own conduct with the general information necessary for a new commander-in-chief, but to all his principal correspondents he carefully imparted the facts necessary to clear him from blame, and to show just what the Navy had effected, and where it had fallen short through inadequate force.

To the British minister to Genoa, who was constantly at the Austrian headquarters, he wrote with clear emphasis, as to one cognizant of all the truth, and so a witness most important to himself. Having first asked certain certificates, essential to be presented in the Admiralty Courts when Genoese prizes came to be adjudicated, he continued characteristically: "The next request much more concerns my honour, than the other does my interest—it is to prove to the world, to my own admiral, or to whoever may have a right to ask the question, why I remained at Genoa. I have therefore to desire that you will have the goodness to express, in writing, what you told me, that the Imperial minister and yourself were assured, if I left the port of Genoa unguarded, not only the Imperial troops at St. Pierre d'Arena and Voltri would be lost, but that the French plan for taking post between Voltri and Savona would certainly succeed; and also, that if the Austrians should be worsted in the advanced posts, the retreat by the Bocchetta would be cut off: to which you added, that if this happened, the loss of the Army would be laid to my leaving Genoa, and recommended me most strongly not to think of it. I am anxious, as you will believe, to have proofs in my possession, that I employed to the last the Agamemnon as was judged most beneficial to the common cause."

A week later he wrote again, having heard that the Austrian commander-in-chief, General Wallis, had declared that the defeat was due to the failure of the British to co-operate. Nelson thought that they had a strong hold on Wallis, and he therefore enclosed a letter to him, which he asked might be forwarded by the minister. The experience and training of the latter, however, here interposed to prevent his sensitive uneasiness leading to a false step, and one that might involve him farther than he foresaw. While bearing the clearest and strongest witness to the facts which Nelson had asked him to establish, he hinted to him, tactfully and with deference, that, it was scarcely becoming a public servant to justify his conduct to a foreign official, he being accountable only to his own government. Nelson accepted the suggestion, and in so doing characterized aptly enough the temperament which then and at other times carried him farther than discretion warranted. "My feelings ever alive, perhaps, to too nice a sense of honour, are a little cooled."

Along with this care for the stainless record of the past, there went on in his mind a continual reasoning upon the probable course of the next year's operations. In his forecasts it is singular to notice how, starting from the accurate premise that it is necessary for the French to get into the plains of Italy,—"the gold mine,"—he is continually misled by his old prepossession in favor of landing in rear of the enemy a body of troops, supported neither by sure communication with their main army, nor by a position in itself of great strength. The mistake, if mistake it was, illustrates aptly the errors into which a man of great genius for war, of quick insight, such as Nelson indisputably had, can fall, from want of antecedent study, of familiarity with those leading principles, deduced from the experience of the past, which are perhaps even more serviceable in warning against error than in prompting to right. Everything assures him that the French will carry some twenty thousand men to Italy by sea. "If they mean to carry on the war, they must penetrate into Italy. I am convinced in my own mind, that I know their very landing-place." This, it appears afterwards, he believed would be between Spezia and Leghorn, in the districts of Massa and Carrara, whence also they would doubtless turn upon Leghorn, though neutral, as a valuable and fortified seaport. "The prevention," he continues, "requires great foresight; for, if once landed, our fleet is of no use."

The importance of Vado Bay, so discreditably lost the year before, strikes him from this point of view, as it did also Bonaparte from his more closely coherent plan of operations. Nelson reasoned that, if Vado were possessed by the allies, the French, in their attempt to reach the Tuscan coast, would be compelled to put to sea, where they would be exposed to the British fleet, while such an anchorage would enable the latter, when necessary, to keep the coast close aboard, or would provide a refuge to a small squadron, if threatened by the sudden appearance of a superior force. Bonaparte thought Vado important, because, on the one hand, essential to uninterrupted coasting-trade with Genoa, and on the other as advancing his water line of communications—that by land being impassable for heavy articles, such as siege-guns and carriages—to Savona, from which point the mountains could be crossed at their lowest elevation, and by their most practicable passes.

Nelson's analysis of the conditions, in other respects than the one mentioned, was not unworthy of his great natural aptitudes. There are three things to be guarded against, he says. One is that pet scheme of his imagination, the transport of a corps by sea to Tuscany; the other two are an invasion of Piedmont, and the entrance into Italy by the pass of the Bocchetta, behind Genoa. "If three are to be attended to, depend upon it one will fall, and the Emperor, very possibly, may be more attentive to the Milanese than to Piedmont." Upon this divergence of interests in a coalition Bonaparte also explicitly counted; and his plan, in its first inception, as laid before the Directory in the summer of 1795, looked primarily to the subjugation of Piedmont, by separating it from the support of the Austrian Army. The bearing of Vado Bay upon this project is not definitely recognized by Nelson. He sees in the possession of it only the frustration of both the enemy's supposed alternatives,—invasion of Italy by the Bocchetta, and of Tuscany by sea.