The Life of Nelson, Volume 1 / The Embodiment of the Sea Power of Great Britain

by A. T. Mahan

The order closed with further words of commendation, which will not have the immortal response of the human heart to the other phrases; but which, uttered at such a moment, conveyed a salutary warning, justified as much by recent unhappy events in the British navy, as by the well-known disorganization and anarchy that had disgraced that of France. "It must strike forcibly every British seaman, how superior their conduct is, when in discipline and good order, to the riotous behaviour of lawless Frenchmen."[67] Captain Berry states that the assembling of the "Vanguard's" ship's company for the thanksgiving service strongly impressed the prisoners on board,—not from the religious point of view, which was alien from the then prevalent French temper,—but as evidence of an order and discipline which could render such a proceeding acceptable, after a victory so great, and at a moment of such seeming confusion. No small amount of self-possession, indeed, was needed thus to direct the attention of six hundred men, in the confined space of a ship, whose shattered sides and blood-stained decks bore witness to the hundred dead and wounded snatched from their number within the few hours before; yet, on the other hand, nothing could have been better calculated to compose the thoughts, or to facilitate the transition from the excitement of battle to the resumption of daily life.

If, by the escape of two ships-of-the-line, the British triumph lacked something in technical completeness, the disaster to the French was no less absolute. Victory, said Nelson truly, is not the name for such a scene as I have witnessed. There remained now to gather up the spoils of the field, and to realize the consequences of the battle, great and small, near and remote. The first was speedily done; battered as they were, "only two masts standing out of nine sail-of-the-line," within a fortnight six of the nine prizes were ready to start for Gibraltar. Little by little, yet with the rapidity of his now highly trained intuitions, Nelson saw the greatness of what he had effected, and with his full native energy struggled on, amid mental confusion and bodily suffering, and in the heat of an Egyptian August, to secure all the fruits of success. With splitting head and constantly sick, a significant indication of the rattling shock his brain had received, he was wonderfully helped, so far as the direction of his efforts was concerned, by the previous familiarity of his mind with the various elements of the problem. First of all, the home government must be informed of an event that would so profoundly affect the future. Berry's orders, as bearer of despatches to St. Vincent off Cadiz, were issued on the 2d of August; but there were no frigates, and the "Leander," appointed to carry him, could not sail till the 6th. For the same reason it was not until the 14th that the "Mutine" could be sent off with duplicates, to go direct to the Admiralty by way of Naples,—a wise precaution in all events, but doubly justified in this case; for the brig reached port, whereas the fifty-gun ship was captured by the "Généreux." The "Mutine's" account, though hastened forward without delay, reached London only on the 2d of October, two months after the action.

The news was received at the first with an applause and a popular commotion commensurate to its greatness, and promised for the moment to overflow even the barriers of routine in one of the most conservative of nations. "Mr. Pitt told me the day after Captain Capel arrived," wrote his old admiral, Hood, to Nelson, "that you would certainly be a Viscount, which I made known to Lady Nelson. But it was objected to in a certain quarter, because your Lordship was not a commander-in-chief. In my humble opinion a more flimsy reason never was given." Official circles regained, or rather perhaps again lost, their senses, and the victory, unquestionably the most nearly complete and the most decisive ever gained by a British fleet, was rewarded, in the person of the commanding officer, with honors less than those bestowed for St. Vincent and Camperdown. Nelson was advanced to the lowest rank of the peerage, as Baron Nelson of the Nile. "In congratulating your Lordship on this high distinction," wrote the First Lord, "I have particular pleasure in remarking, that it is the highest honour that has ever been conferred on an officer of your standing,[68] in the Service, and who was not a commander-in-chief; and the addition [of the Nile] to the Title is meant more especially to mark the occasion on which it was granted, which, however, without any such precaution, is certainly of a nature never to be forgotten." His Lordship's sense of humor must a little have failed him, when he penned the platitude of the last few words.

To the sharp criticism passed in the House of Commons on the smallness of the recognition, the Prime Minister replied that Nelson's glory did not depend upon the rank to which he might be raised in the peerage; a truism too palpable and inapplicable for serious utterance, the question before the House being, not the measure of Nelson's glory, but that of the national acknowledgment. As Hood justly said, "All remunerations should be proportionate to the service done to the public;" and if that cannot always be attained absolutely, without exhausting the powers of the State,[69] there should at least be some proportion between the rewards themselves, extended to individuals, and the particular services. But even were the defence of the Ministers technically perfect, it would have been pleasanter to see them a little blinded by such an achievement. Once in a way, under some provocations, it is refreshing to see men able even to make fools of themselves.

Nelson made to the First Lord's letter a reply that was dignified and yet measured, to a degree unusual to him, contrasting singularly with his vehement reclamations for others after Copenhagen. Without semblance of complaint, he allowed plainly to appear between the lines his own sense that the reward was not proportionate to the service done. "I have received your Lordship's letter communicating to me the Title his Majesty has been graciously pleased to confer upon me—an Honour, your Lordship is pleased to say, the highest that has ever been conferred on an officer of my standing who was not a Commander-in-Chief. I receive as I ought what the goodness of our Sovereign, and not my deserts, is pleased to bestow; but great and unexampled as this honour may be to one of my standing, yet I own I feel a higher one in the unbounded confidence of the King, your Lordship, and the whole World, in my exertions. Even at the bitter moment of my return to Syracuse, your Lordship is not insensible of the great difficulties I had to encounter in not being a Commander-in-Chief. The only happy moment I felt was in the view of the French; then I knew that all my sufferings would soon be at an end." To Berry he wrote: "As to both our Honours, it is a proof how much a battle fought near England is prized to one fought at a great distance."

Whatever was defective in the formal recognition of his own government was abundantly supplied by the tributes which flowed from other quarters, so various, that his own phrase, "the whole world," is scarcely an exaggeration to apply to them. The Czar, the Sultan, the Kings of Sardinia and of the Two Sicilies, sent messages of congratulation and rich presents; the Czar accompanying his with an autograph letter. The Houses of Parliament voted their thanks and a pension of £2,000 a year. The East India Company acknowledged the security gained for their Indian possessions by a gift of £10,000, £2,000 of which he, with his wonted generosity, divided at once among his father and family, most of whom were not in prosperous circumstances. Other corporations took appropriate notice of the great event; instances so far apart as the cities of London and Palermo, and the Island of Zante, showing how wide-spread was the sense of relief. Not least gratifying to him, with his sensitive appreciation of friendship and susceptibility to flattery, must have been the numerous letters of congratulation he received from friends in and out of the service. The three great admirals,—Lords Howe, Hood, and St. Vincent,—the leaders of the Navy in rank and distinguished service, wrote to him in the strongest terms of admiration. The two last styled the battle the greatest achievement that History could produce; while Howe's language, if more measured, was so only because, like himself, it was more precise in characterizing the special merits of the action, and was therefore acknowledged by Nelson with particular expressions of pleasure.

Besides the honors bestowed upon the commander of the squadron, and the comprehensive vote of thanks usual on such occasions, a gold medal commemorative of the battle was given to the admiral and to each of the captains present. The First Lord also wrote that the first-lieutenants of the ships engaged would be promoted at once. The word "engaged" caught Nelson's attention, as apparently intended to exclude the lieutenant of the "Culloden," Troubridge's unlucky ship. "For Heaven's sake, for my sake," he wrote to St. Vincent, "if this is so, get it altered. Our dear friend Troubridge has suffered enough. His sufferings were in every respect more than any of us. He deserves every reward which a grateful Country can bestow on the most meritorious sea-officer of his standing in the service. I have felt his worth every hour of my command." "I well know, he is my superior," he said on another occasion; "and I so often want his advice and assistance. I have experienced the ability and activity of his mind and body: it was Troubridge that equipped the squadron so soon at Syracuse—it was he that exerted himself for me after the action—it was Troubridge who saved the "Culloden," when none that I know in the service would have attempted it—it was Troubridge whom I left as myself at Naples to watch movements—he is, as a friend and an officer, a nonpareil!" His entreaties prevailed so far that the officer in question received his promotion, not with the others, but immediately after them; a distinction which Troubridge bewailed bitterly, as a reflection upon himself and his ship.

On the 9th of August, Nelson sent a lieutenant to Alexandretta, on the northern coast of Syria, to make his way overland, by way of Aleppo, to India, with despatches to the Governor of Bombay. Resuming briefly the events of the past months, and the numbers and character of the French army in Egypt, he expresses the hope that special care will be exercised against the departure of ships from India, to convey this huge force thither by the Red Sea. On the side of the Mediterranean, their fate is settled by the recent victory. They can receive nothing from France; they cannot advance freely into Syria, as water transport is essential for much of their equipment; even in Egypt itself they are hampered by the difficulties of communication—on land by the guerilla hostility of the natives, and now on the water through his own presence and control. The Nile, through its Rosetta mouth, had been heretofore the easiest communication between Cairo and Alexandria. The garrison of the latter depended largely for daily bread upon this route, now closed by the fleet in Aboukir Bay. By land, nothing short of a regiment could pass over ground where, even before the battle, the French watering-parties from the ships had to be protected by heavy armed bodies. He intended, therefore, to remain where he was as long as possible. "If my letter is not so correct as might be expected," he concludes, "I trust for your excuse, when I tell you that my brain is so shook with the wounds in my head, that I am sensible I am not always so clear as could be wished; but whilst a ray of reason remains, my heart and my head shall ever be exerted for the benefit of our King and Country."

It may be added here, that the scar left by this wound seems to have been the cause of Nelson's hair being trained down upon his forehead, during the later years of his life. Prior to that it was brushed well off and up, as may be seen in the portrait by Abbott, painted during his stay in England, while recovering from the loss of his arm. After his death, a young officer of the "Victory," who had cut off some locks for those who wished such a remembrance of their friend, speaks of "the hair that used to hang over his forehead, near the wound that he received at the Battle of the Nile."

The perception of his control over the communications from Rosetta to Alexandria dawned rather late upon Nelson, for on the 5th of August he had announced his purpose of starting down the Mediterranean on the 19th. This he postponed afterwards to the first part of September, and again for as long as possible. While in this intention, most secret and urgent orders came on the 15th from St. Vincent, to return to the westward with his command, and to co-operate with an expedition planned against Minorca. Six prizes, with seven of the British ships-of-the-line, had started on the 14th for Gibraltar, under the command of Sir James Saumarez. The three remaining prizes were burned, and hasty temporary repairs, adequate only for a summer voyage, were put upon the "Vanguard," "Culloden," and "Alexander," the three most defective ships of his fleet. On the 19th he sailed with these three for Naples, which he had from the first intended to visit, in order to give them the complete overhauling they imperatively needed. On and after the 13th of August several frigates had joined him. Three of these, with three ships-of-the-line, were left with Captain Hood, to conduct the blockade of Alexandria, and to suppress the enemy's communications by water along the coasts of Egypt and Syria.