JANUARY-AUGUST, 1805. AGE, 46.
To understand rightly the movements of Nelson during the first months of 1805, up to his return to England in August, and to appreciate fully the influence of this closing period of his career upon the plans and fortunes of Napoleon, it is necessary to state briefly the projects of the latter, as formulated in his correspondence.
The great object of the Emperor was to invade England, crossing the Channel with the army, 150,000 strong, which for two years past he had been assembling and drilling in the neighborhood of Boulogne. To this end all his plans were subsidiary—to it all movements at this moment were intended to conduce. He had no illusions as to the difficulties of the enterprise; he recognized fully that the odds were against success, but he had too often achieved the apparently impossible to permit the word to stop him in an attempt, which, if accomplished, would cause all other obstacles to disappear from his path of conquest. There were chances in his favor. Warily and steadfastly he advanced, step by step, determined to take no risk that could by the utmost care be changed into security, but equally resolved to dare the hazard, if by the military movements set in action by his unsurpassed genius, he could for a moment obtain the particular combination which would, to use his own phrase, make him master of the world. What if the soldiers of the Grand Army never returned from England? There were still in France men enough, as good as they were before his energizing spirit wrought them into the force which in its might trod the Continent under foot. Like Nelson dying at Trafalgar, it too would have laid down its life, leaving its work finished. Neither man nor army could have a prouder memorial.
The particular combination upon which Napoleon was willing to stake everything was a naval control of the Straits of Dover for a very few days, coincident with the presence there of an army ready and equipped to cross at once. The latter condition was merely a question of preparation—long, tedious, and expensive, but perfectly feasible. In the early months of 1805 it was realized. The army, a substantial, absolute fact, was there, awaiting only the throwing of the bridge. The naval part of the problem was far more difficult. In the face of the naval supremacy of Great Britain, the sought-for control could only be casual and transient—a fleeting opportunity to be seized, utilized, and so to disappear. Its realization must be effected by stratagem, by successful deception and evasion. The coveted superiority would be not actual, but local,—the French fleet in force there, the British fleet, though the greater in force, elsewhere; the weight of the former concentrated at one point by simultaneous movements of its different detachments, which movements had been so calculated and directed that they had misled the British divisions, and, of themselves, diverted them from the decisive centre. Subsidiary to this main effort, Napoleon also contemplated a simultaneous landing of some twenty thousand men in Ireland, which, like the naval movements, would distract and tend to divide the unity of the British resistance. The British admirals considered this project to be easier than the invasion of Great Britain, and it engaged their much more serious attention.
There were three principal French detachments to be united,—in Brest twenty ships, in Toulon ten, in Rochefort five. To these the outbreak of the war between Great Britain and Spain added the forces of the latter kingdom, in Ferrol and Cadiz, aggregating fifteen serviceable ships; but this was not until March, 1805. Of the three French contingents, the one from Rochefort was small; and, as a factor, although important, it was not essential. Its failure might weaken or impede the progress of the general movement, without entirely destroying it; but it was of necessity that the Toulon and Brest divisions both should fulfil their missions, accurately and on time, if the great combination, of which they were parts, was to advance to a triumphant conclusion. This emphasized to the British the importance, which Nelson always so keenly felt, of meeting the enemy immediately after they left port. Once away, and their destination in doubt, the chances in favor of any scheme were multiplied. In their greatest and final effort, Cornwallis, off Brest, was fortunate, in that the plans of the Emperor first, and afterwards unusual weather conditions, retained the French fleet there in harbor; a result to which the material efficiency of his own ships, and their nearness to their base, much contributed.
Upon Nelson, with his crazy ships, on the other hand, fell the burden of counteracting a successful evasion of the Toulon fleet, of foiling, by sagacious and untiring pursuit, through immense and protracted discouragements, the efforts of the one division which had been committed to his watch. Although it became much superior to his own force, he drove it out of the position in the West Indies first appointed for the meeting, followed it back to Europe, arrived before it, and then, finding it had gone to Ferrol, carried his squadron, without orders, counselled simply by his own genius, to the aid of Cornwallis; by which act the British navy, to the number of thirty-five ships-of-the-line, was massed in a central position, separating the two enemy's bodies, and able to act decisively against a foe approaching from either direction. Thus a second time he prevented the enemy from forming a junction, unless they fought for it—an alternative Napoleon wished to avoid. To him fell all the strain of uncertainty, all the doubtful and complicated mental effort, all the active strategic movement, of the campaign, and to him consequently has been attributed justly the greater meed of glory; though care must be taken not to ignore or undervalue the well-played parts of other admirals, which were essential to the success of the great defensive campaign comprehended under the name Trafalgar.
The point selected by the Emperor for the meeting of his naval divisions, in both the unsuccessful attempts made in 1805, was the West Indies. There was the most powerful foreign arsenal, Martinique, left in the hands of France, and there the greatest single interest of the wide-spread commerce upon which depended the life of Great Britain. The latter, therefore, was specially sensitive to anything threatening the safety of the West India Islands. "I should think the West Indies the more likely place for the French to succeed in," wrote Nelson to Ball, on the 6th of September, 1804. "Suppose the Toulon fleet escapes, and gets out of the Straits, I rather think I should bend my course to the westward; for if they carry 7,000 men—with what they have at Martinico and Guadaloupe—St. Lucia, Grenada, St. Vincent, Antigua, and St. Kitts would fall, and, in that case, England would be so clamorous for peace that we should humble ourselves." This is a noteworthy passage, for it shows great sagacity of prediction, and, in announcing beforehand his resolve,—of which this is not the sole previous mention,—it dispels entirely the idea that he was decoyed to the West Indies. It explains, also, the remarkable outburst of gratitude that hailed him on his return from a chase which had been wholly unsuccessful as regards his own chief object—the annihilation of the French fleet. He had failed to find it, but he had driven the enemy out of the West Indies before they could do any serious injury to the vital interests of the country. A man cannot be said to be decoyed, because, in pursuance of a judgment deliberately formed beforehand, he does the thing which the moment demands; unless it can be shown that he has thereby uncovered greater interests. This Nelson did not do. He saved the West Indies, and returned in time to protect Great Britain and Ireland from invasion.
It is through the perplexities of this momentous period that we have now to follow him, and we shall do so to most advantage by taking as our clue his own avowed primary motive of action, the finding and destroying of the French fleet. A man dealing with Napoleon was bound to meet perplexities innumerable, to thread a winding and devious track, branching out often into false trails that led nowhere, and confused by cross-lights which glittered only to mislead. In such a case, as in the doubtful paths of common life, the only sure guide to a man's feet is principle; and Nelson's principle was the destruction of the French fleet. No other interest, his own least of all, could divert him from it. For it he was willing not only to sacrifice fortune, but to risk renown; and so, amid troubles manifold, he walked steadfastly in the light of the single eye.
While Napoleon's object remained the same throughout, his methods received various modifications, as all plans must do when circumstances change. In his original intention the execution of the main effort was intrusted to Latouche Tréville, by far and away the best admiral he had. Upon his death, the Toulon fleet was committed to Villeneuve. Its sailing was to take place as nearly as possible at the same time as that of the Rochefort division. They were to go to the West Indies, proceed at once, independently, to offensive operations, then to unite and return together to Rochefort. Napoleon's calculation was that the British, impressed by this simultaneous departure, and uncertain about the enemy's purpose, must send at once thirty ships-of-the-line in pursuit, in order to secure all the different quarters they would think endangered. This diversion, if realized, would facilitate the operations of the Brest fleet, which was to land an army corps in Ireland, and then to cover the crossing of the main body at Boulogne into England; the precise character of its movements depending necessarily upon conditions of wind at the moment of execution.
The Rochefort ships sailed on the 11th of January. For a week before and a week after that date the winds at Toulon hung between northeast and southeast, favorable, therefore, for a voyage to the Straits of Gibraltar; but Villeneuve argued, judiciously, that a fleet intent on evasion only, and to avoid fighting, should move with great speed until lost to sight—that is, should start with a very fresh breeze, the direction of which was of secondary moment. This view of the matter escaped Nelson's attention, and therefore contributed seriously to mislead him in his reasoning as to the enemy's probable object.