The Boys' Nelson

by Harold Wheeler

All hopes on the part of Britain’s enemies for the invasion of the British Isles were quashed for a time by the victory off Cape St Vincent. Although the distressed Spanish fleet reached Cadiz safely, minus four sail-of-the-line which the British had captured, there was no likelihood at the moment of the ships showing their “noses” out of port, many of the aforesaid noses being much out of joint. For several weeks Nelson was engaged in a fruitless search for a treasure-ship, convoyed by three sail-of-the-line, supposed to be making for Spain; but in April 1797 he was directed by the Admiral to blockade Cadiz, a task not altogether devoid of incident if for no other reason than that no neutral vessel was permitted to enter or leave the port without his permission. He was particularly concerned as to the welfare of the garrison at Elba. The Commander-in-Chief believed that the soldiers were on their way to Gibraltar; Nelson was of opinion that “If the French get out two sail-of-the-line, which I am confident they may do, our Troops are lost, and what a triumph would that be to them!” At his own suggestion he was sent to Porto Ferrajo to make enquiries about the luckless little army. The convoy had started, and he met it off the south of Corsica. He learned of Napoleon’s wonderful success in the subjugation of Italy and the humbling of Austria, admitting that “there seems no prospect of stopping these extraordinary people,” the French. Shifting from the Captain, which required to be docked, he hoisted his rear-admiral’s flag on the Theseus, and was given command of the inshore squadron of the fleet blockading the great seaport, “in sight of the whole Spanish Fleet. I am barely out of shot of a Spanish Rear-Admiral.” The citizens not unnaturally dreaded a bombardment; Nelson confessed, “I long to be at them.” At the same time he reverted to the old idea of a cottage in Norfolk. “The imperious call of honour to serve my Country,” and a not ignoble desire to add to his prize money in order to give his wife “those little luxuries which you so highly merit,” did not, however, permit him to give more than a passing thought to retirement.

On the night of the 3rd July 1797 all the barges and launches of the British blockading fleet, carrying carronades, ammunition and pikes, were placed at Nelson’s disposal by the Earl of St Vincent for the bombardment of Cadiz. A spirited action took place between the British and Spanish sailors, the latter using mortar gunboats and armed launches. The Spanish met with a repulse and three prizes were taken. Referring to the blockade in his Autobiography, Nelson says: “It was during this period that perhaps my personal courage was more conspicuous than at any other part of my life,” the remark obviously referring to the following incident. The barge of the Commander of the enemy’s gunboats came up alongside Nelson’s little craft, containing thirteen persons in all, and a desperate hand-to-hand fight ensued. The Rear-Admiral would have lost his life had it not been for the good services of John Sykes, the coxswain, one of those humble heroes of whom one hears too little, so predominant are the greater figures of history. The enemy paid dearly for the exploit. Eighteen of the crew were killed, several wounded, the Commander was taken prisoner, and the boat captured. On the 5th of the same month Cadiz was again bombarded, and according to the official despatch, the cannonade “produced considerable effect in the Town and among the Shipping.” The Earl of St Vincent now proved how strict a disciplinarian he was. The crews of some of the ships had shown unmistakable signs of mutiny, and the Court Martial having passed sentence on four of the ringleaders, the Commander-in-Chief saw no reason for delaying the execution of the sentence. He had the men hanged on a Sunday, a few hours after they had been found guilty. Nelson strongly approved of the execution, “even although it is Sunday. The particular situation of the service requires extraordinary measures.” It is significant that no signs of dissatisfaction made themselves felt in any of the Rear-Admiral’s ships, but Nelson’s words show that he would not have condoned anything of the kind.

An attack on Santa Cruz, where it was believed that the Principe d’Asturias, a ship of considerable value belonging to the Philippine Company, had taken shelter, next fell to Nelson’s lot. He had already hinted to the Admiral that the conquest of Teneriffe was an object very dear to him, which he was confident “could not fail of success, would immortalize the undertakers, ruin Spain, and has every prospect of raising our Country to a higher pitch of wealth than she has ever yet attained....” His plan was to utilise the 3700 soldiers from Elba; “I will undertake with a very small Squadron to do the Naval part.” The scheme fell through, to be revived by the Earl himself, but it was to be carried out without the assistance of the troops. Three sail-of-the-line and the same number of frigates were placed at Nelson’s disposal. Ladders, sledge-hammers, wedges, axes, additional iron ram-rods, and a sleigh for dragging cannon formed a necessary part of the equipment. A perusal of the regulations recommended by the Rear-Admiral shows that he took the most elaborate precautions to ensure success. Captain Thomas Troubridge, of the Culloden, was given command of the entire force, Captain Oldfield directing the Marines, Lieutenant Baynes his detachment of the Royal Artillery. The first attempt was made on the night of the 21st and failed, largely owing to adverse weather. As a consequence the spot which Nelson had indicated as most suitable for landing was not reached, and dawn disclosed the whereabouts of the little expedition to the Spaniards. It was also found impossible to get the battle-ships close enough to the fort to create a diversion by bombardment while the storming party attempted to gain the heights.

Any blame which may have been attributable to Troubridge was minimised by Nelson in his despatch to the Admiral, “all has hitherto been done which was possible, without effect.” He therefore decided to command in person, “and to-morrow my head will probably be crowned with either laurel or cypress.” Did some premonition of disaster lead him to write to the Earl of St Vincent to recommend his step-son “to you and my Country,” and to add that “should I fall in the service of my King and Country” the Duke of Clarence would “take a lively interest” in Josiah Nisbet? It was certainly not his way of saying things at this stage of his career, although we know that in 1805 he avowed that Trafalgar would be his last battle.

Nelson wounded at Santa Cruz

R. Caton Woodville

On the 24th Nelson was able to get his ships nearer land than on the previous occasion. He and nearly a thousand men set out in small boats at about eleven o’clock at night for the Mole, where they were to disembark. The oars being muffled and dead silence enjoined, the enemy did not discover their approach till they were within half gun-shot of the appointed rendez-vous. Immediately thirty or forty cannon blazed out, the sharp ping of musket shots rent the air, but, says Nelson, “nothing could stop the intrepidity of the Captains leading the divisions. Unfortunately, the greatest part of the Boats did not see the Mole, but went on shore through a raging surf, which stove all the Boats to the left of it.”

With the companies of four or five boats and two Captains, the Rear-Admiral stormed the landing-place in the darkness and took possession of it in the presence of several hundred of the enemy. They then proceeded to spike the guns, but were driven back by the heavy fire which seemed to issue from every available point. Scarcely a man escaped death or a wound. Nelson was shot through the right elbow as he was stepping from the boat. With rare presence of mind he quietly transferred the sword he carried to his left hand. This weapon, once the property of his uncle Maurice Suckling, was treasured by him almost more than any other possession. He was not going to leave that of all things on Spanish soil! Young Nisbet happened to be near his step-father at the moment he received his wound, and placed him in the bottom of the boat. He then held the arm so as to staunch the blood, untied the silk handkerchief round his neck and bound up the injury as best he could. After passing under the enemy’s batteries the few men who had regained the little craft bent to the oars and eventually pulled out of range of the guns, but not before some of the crew of the Fox, who had been flung into the sea owing to the sinking of that cutter, had been rescued by them. Someone suggested that Nelson should be taken to the nearest vessel for surgical treatment. He would not hear of this because the captain’s wife happened to be on board and he had no intelligence of her husband’s fate. Whatever agonies Nelson suffered, as the sadly denuded crew made their way to the Theseus, were kept to himself; scarcely a groan escaped his lips.

“At two o’clock [A.M.],” says a midshipman who saw the sorrowful boatload, “Admiral Nelson returned on board, being dreadfully wounded in the right arm with a grape-shot. 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, whilst 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. He underwent the amputation with the same firmness and courage that have always marked his character.”