The urgency of the British, aided, perhaps, by the reports of the French designs, prevailed at last upon Beaulieu to advance as requested; nor can it be denied that the taking of Vado was in itself a most proper and desirable accessory object of the campaign. Unfortunately, the Austrian general, as is well known, fastening his eyes too exclusively upon the ulterior object of his movement, neglected to provide for the immediate close combination and mutual support of the organized forces,—his own and the Piedmontese,—upon which final success would turn. Manoeuvring chiefly by his own left, towards the Riviera, and drawing in that direction the efforts of the centre and right, he weakened the allied line at the point where the Austrian right touched the Sardinian left. Through this thin curtain Bonaparte broke, dividing the one from the other, and, after a series of combats which extended over several days, rendering final that division, both political and military, for the remainder of the war.
To one who has accustomed himself to see in Nelson the exponent of the chief obstacle Napoleon had to meet,—who has recognized in the Nile, in Copenhagen, and in Trafalgar, the most significant and characteristic incident attending the failure of each of three great and widely separated schemes,—there is something impressive in noting the fact, generally disregarded, that Nelson was also present and assisting at the very opening scene of the famous campaign in Italy. This was not, certainly, the beginning of Napoleon's career any more than it was of Nelson's, who at the same moment hoisted for the first time his broad pendant as commodore; but it was now that, upon the horizon of the future, toward which the world was fast turning, began to shoot upward the rays of the great captain's coming glory, and the sky to redden with the glare from the watchfires of the unseen armies which, at his command, were to revolutionize the face of Europe, causing old things to pass away, never to be restored.
The Austrians had asked for a clear assurance that their movement to the seashore should receive the support of the fleet, whether on the Riviera or at Spezia, upon the possession of which also Nelson had laid stress, as a precaution against the invasion of Tuscany. These engagements he readily made. He would support any movement, and provide for the safety of any convoys by water. He told the aid-de-camp whom Beaulieu sent to him that, whenever the general came down to the sea-coast, he would be sure to find the ships; and to the question whether his squadron would not be risked thereby, he replied that it would be risked at all times to assist their allies, and, if lost, the admiral would find another. "If I find the French convoy in any place where there is a probability of attacking them," he wrote about this time, "you may depend they shall either be taken or destroyed at the risk of my squadron, ... which is built to be risked on proper occasions." Here was indeed a spirit from which much might be expected. The fleet, doubtless, must be husbanded in coastwise work so long as the French fleet remained, the legacy of past errors,—this Nelson clearly maintained; but such vessels as it could spare for co-operation were not to be deterred from doing their work by fear of harm befalling them. Warned by the recriminations of the last campaign, he had minutes taken of his interview with the Austrian officer, of the questions he himself put, as well as of the undertakings to which he pledged himself; and these he caused to be witnessed by the British consul at Genoa, who was present.
On the 8th of April the "Agamemnon," having shortly before left the fleet in San Fiorenzo Bay, anchored at Genoa; and the following morning the port saluted the broad pendant of the new commodore. The next day, April 10, Beaulieu attacked the French at Voltri. The "Agamemnon," with another sixty-four-gun ship, the "Diadem," and two frigates, sailed in the evening, and stood along the shore, by preconcerted arrangement, to cover the advance and harass the enemy. At 11 P.M. the ships anchored abreast the positions of the Austrians, whose lights were visible from their decks—the sails hanging in the clewlines, ready for instant movement. They again got under way the following day, and continued to the westward, seeing the French troops in retreat upon Savona. The attack, Nelson said, anticipated the hour fixed for it, which was daylight; so that, although the ships had again started at 4 A.M. of the 11th, and reached betimes a point from which they commanded every foot of the road, the enemy had already passed. "Yesterday afternoon I received, at five o'clock, a note from the Baron de Malcamp [an aid-de-camp], to tell me that the general had resolved to attack the French at daylight this morning, and on the right of Voltri. Yet by the Austrians getting too forward in the afternoon, a slight action took place; and, in the night, the French retreated. They were aware of their perilous situation, and passed our ships in the night. Had the Austrians kept back, very few of the French could have escaped." Whether this opinion was wholly accurate may be doubted; certain it is, however, that the corps which then passed reinforced betimes the positions in the mountains, which steadfastly, yet barely, checked the Austrian attack there the following day. Beaulieu wrote that the well-timed co-operation of the squadron had saved a number of fine troops, which must have been lost in the attack. This was so far satisfactory; but the economizing of one's own force was not in Nelson's eyes any consolation for the escape of the enemy, whose number he estimated at four thousand. "I beg you will endeavour to impress on those about the general," he wrote to the British minister, "the necessity of punctuality in a joint operation, for its success to be complete."
There was, however, to be no more co-operation that year on the Riviera. For a few days Nelson remained in suspense, hoping for good news, and still very far from imagining the hail-storm of ruinous blows which a master hand, as yet unrecognized, was even then dealing to the allied cause. On the 15th only he heard from Beaulieu, through the minister, that the Austrians had been repulsed at Montenotte; and on the 16th he wrote to Collingwood that this reverse had been inflicted by the aid of those who slipped by his ships. On the 18th news had reached him of the affairs at Millesimo and Dego, as well as of further disasters; for on that day he wrote to the Duke of Clarence that the Austrians had taken position between Novi and Alessandria, with headquarters at Acqui. Their loss he gave as ten thousand. "Had the general's concerted time and plan been attended to," he repeats, "I again assert, none of the enemy could have escaped on the night of the 10th. By what has followed, the disasters commenced from the retreat of those troops."
There now remained, not the stirring employment of accompanying and supporting a victorious advance, but only the subordinate, though most essential, duty of impeding the communications of the enemy, upon which to a great extent must depend the issues on unseen and distant fields of war. To this Nelson's attention had already been turned, as one of the most important functions intrusted to him, even were the allies successful, and its difficulties had been impressed upon him by the experience of the previous year. But since then the conditions had become far more onerous. The defeat of the Austrians not only left Vado Bay definitively in the power of the French, but enabled the latter to push their control up to the very walls of Genoa, where they shortly established a battery and depot on the shore, at St. Pierre d' Arena, within three hundred yards of the mole. Thus the whole western Riviera, from the French border, was in possession of the enemy, who had also throughout the previous year so multiplied and strengthened the local defences, that, to use Nelson's own words, "they have batteries from one end of the coast to the other, within shot of each other." Such were the means, also, by which Napoleon, the true originator of this scheme for securing these communications, insured the concentration of the flotilla at Boulogne, eight or ten years later, without serious molestation from the British Navy.
It may not unnaturally cause some surprise that, with the urgent need Nelson had felt the year before for small armed vessels, to control the coastwise movements of the enemy, upon which so much then depended, no serious effort had been made to attach a flotilla of that kind to the fleet. The reply, however, to this very obvious criticism is, that the British could not supply the crews for them without crippling the efficiency of the cruising fleet; and it was justly felt then, as it was some years later at the time of the Boulogne flotilla, that the prime duty of Great Britain was to secure the sea against the heavy fleets of the enemy. If, indeed, the Italian States, whose immediate interests were at stake, had supplied seamen, as they might have done, these could quickly have been formed to the comparatively easy standard of discipline and training needed for such guerilla warfare, and, supported by the cruising fleet, might have rendered invaluable service, so long as the system of coast defence was defective. How far the rulers of those States, trained heretofore to the narrowest considerations of personal policy, could have been induced to extend this assistance, is doubtful. They did nothing, or little.
Nelson measured the odds against him accurately, and saw that the situation was well-nigh hopeless. Nevertheless, there was a chance that by vigorous and sustained action the enemy might be not only impeded, but intimidated. He sought earnestly to obtain the co-operation of the Sardinians and Neapolitans in manning a flotilla, with which to grapple the convoys as they passed in shore. By this means, and the close scouring of the coast by the vessels of his squadron, something might be effected. He contemplated also using the crews of the British vessels themselves in gunboats and light-armed feluccas; but he said frankly that, important as was the duty of intercepting communications, the efficiency of the fleet was more important still, and that to divert their crews over-much to such objects would hazard the vessels themselves, and neutralize their proper work. The resort, therefore, could only be occasional. The general political complexion of affairs in the Mediterranean depended greatly upon the presence and readiness of the British fleet, and its efficiency therefore could not be risked, to any serious extent, except for the object of destroying the enemy's naval forces, to which it was then the counterpoise.
Acting, however, on his determination to co-operate effectively, at whatever risk to his own squadron,—to the detachment, that is, which the commander-in-chief thought could safely be spared from his main force for the secondary object,—Nelson applied all his intelligence and all his resolution to the task before him. In words of admirable force and clearness, he manifests that exclusiveness of purpose, which Napoleon justly characterized as the secret of great operations and of great successes. "I have not a thought," he writes to the minister at Genoa, "on any subject separated from the immediate object of my command, nor a wish to be employed on any other service. So far the allies," he continues, with no unbecoming self-assertion, "are fortunate, if I may be allowed the expression, in having an officer of this character." He felt this singleness of mind, which is so rare a gift, to be the more important, from his very consciousness that the difficulty of his task approached the border of impossibility. "I cannot command winds and weather. A sea-officer cannot, like a land-officer, form plans; his object is to embrace the happy moment which now and then offers,—it may be this day, not for a month, and perhaps never." Nothing can be more suggestive of his greatest characteristics than this remark, which is perhaps less applicable to naval officers to-day than it was then. In it we may fairly see one of those clearly held principles which serve a man so well in moments of doubt and perplexity. At the Nile and at Trafalgar, and scarcely less at St. Vincent and Copenhagen, the seizure of opportunity, the unfaltering resolve "to embrace the happy moment," is perhaps even more notable and decisive than the sagacity which so accurately chose the proper method of action.
Nelson's deeds did not belie his words. Immediately after definite news of Beaulieu's retreat to the Po was received, Sir John Jervis appeared off Genoa with the fleet. The "Agamemnon" joined him, and remained in company until the 23d of April, when by Nelson's request she sailed on a cruise to the westward. From that time until the 4th of June she was actively employed between Nice and Genoa, engaging the batteries, and from time to time cutting out vessels from the anchorages. His attempts were more or less successful; on one occasion he captured a considerable portion of the French siege-train going forward for the siege of Mantua; but upon the whole, the futility of the attempt became apparent. "Although I will do my utmost, I do not believe it is in my power to prevent troops or stores from passing along shore. Heavy swells, light breezes, and the near approach to the shore which these vessels go are our obstacles.... You may perceive I am distressed. Do you really think we are of any use here? If not, we may serve our country much more by being in other places. The Levant and coast of Spain call aloud for ships, and they are, I fancy, employed to no purpose here." The position was almost hopelessly complicated by the Genoese coasters, which plied their trade close to the beach, between the mother city and the little towns occupied by the French, and which Nelson felt unable to touch. "There are no vessels of any consequence in any bay from Monaco to Vado," he wrote to Jervis; "but not less than a hundred Genoese are every day passing, which may or may not have stores for the French." "The French have no occasion to send provisions from France. The coasts are covered with Genoese vessels with corn, wine, hay, &c., for places on the coast; and they know I have no power to stop the trade with the towns. I saw this day not less than forty-five Genoese vessels, all laden, passing along the coast. What can I do?"