Captain Troubridge and his men landed near the citadel after most of the ammunition had been soaked by the surf, which was so violent that it filled the boats and stove them against the treacherous rocks. With a handful of heroes he proceeded to the Square, previously appointed as the meeting-place of the various parties before the final attack. The scaling ladders having been lost, and no further men making their appearance after an hour’s wait, he set out to meet Captains Hood and Miller, whom he believed had effected a landing elsewhere. “By day-break,” runs his official report to Nelson, “we had collected about eighty Marines, eighty Pike-men, and one hundred and eighty small-arm Seamen. These, I found, were all that were alive that had made good their landing. With this force, having procured some ammunition from the Spanish prisoners we had made, we were marching to try what could be done with the Citadel without ladders; but found the whole of the streets commanded by field-pieces, and upwards of eight thousand Spaniards and one hundred French under arms, approaching by every avenue. As the boats were all stove, and I saw no possibility of getting more men on shore—the ammunition wet, and no provisions—I sent Captain Hood with a Flag of Truce to the Governor, to say I was prepared to burn the Town, which I should immediately put in force if he approached one inch further; and, at the same time, I desired Captain Hood to say it would be done with regret, as I had no wish to injure the inhabitants; that if he would come to my terms, I was ready to treat, which he readily agreed to....”
The terms were, “That the Troops, etc., belonging to his Britannic Majesty shall embark with all their arms of every kind, and take their Boats off, if saved, and be provided with such other as may be wanting; in consideration of which it is engaged on their part they shall not molest the Town in any manner by the Ships of the British Squadron now before it, or any of the Islands in the Canaries; and prisoners shall be given up on both sides.”
Troubridge’s game of bluff succeeded. His Excellency Don Antonio Gutierrez, Commandant-General of the Canary Islands, rid himself of the invaders and was rewarded by Nelson with a cask of English beer and a cheese!
It says much for Nelson’s indomitable pluck and recuperative powers, as well as for his keen interest in the service, that he allowed only two days to intervene before he penned a letter with his left hand to the Admiral. That he was depressed is obvious, that he still had a fund of grim humour is equally evident by the quaint postscript. The communication runs as follows:
Theseus, July 27th, 1797.
“My Dear Sir,
“I am become a burthen to my friends, and useless to my Country; but by my letter wrote the 24th,[20] you will perceive my anxiety for the promotion of my son-in-law, Josiah Nisbet.[21] When I leave your command, I become dead to the World; I go hence, and am no more seen. If from poor Bowen’s loss,[22] you think it proper to oblige me, I rest confident you will do it; the Boy is under obligations to me, but he repaid me by bringing me from the Mole of Santa Cruz.
“I hope you will be able to give me a frigate, to convey the remains of my carcase to England. God bless you, my dear Sir, and believe me, your most obliged and faithful,
“Horatio Nelson.
“You will excuse my scrawl, considering it is my first attempt.
“Sir John Jervis, K.Bth.”
In another despatch to his senior officer the leader of the ill-fated expedition avers that “A left-handed Admiral will never again be considered as useful, therefore the sooner I get to a very humble cottage the better, and make room for a better man to serve the State.” The noble Earl’s reply must have been as healing balm to the wounded body and depressed spirit of the man whose brilliant success had been followed so quickly by disastrous failure. “Mortals cannot command success;” he begins, “you and your Companions have certainly deserved it, by the greatest degree of heroism and perseverance that ever was exhibited.” Such praise from St Vincent was praise indeed, and he whimsically concludes by saying that he will “bow to your stump to-morrow morning, if you will give me leave.”
On the 20th August 1797, Nelson struck his flag on the Theseus and hoisted it on the Seahorse, in which ship he made “a very miserable passage home.” He arrived at Spithead on the 1st September and proceeded to Bath. To his brother he reported that his health “never was better, and my arm is in the fairest way of soon healing.” He intended to journey to London, perhaps pay a short visit to Norfolk “for a few days, especially if a decent house is likely to be met with near Norwich; but Wroxham very far indeed exceeds my purse. Bath will be my home till next spring.” On the other hand Lady Nelson wrote on the same date that her husband suffered “a good deal of pain—the arm is taken off very high, near the shoulder,” and he only obtained rest by resorting to opium.
If he never minimised a victory in his communications Nelson certainly did not remark unduly on his wounds. In writing to the Duke of Clarence he merely referred to “my accident,” and passed on to assure his royal friend “that not a scrap of that ardour with which I have hitherto served our King has been shot away.” It is only right, however, to add that in communicating with the Comptroller of the Navy he was perhaps a little unjust to Troubridge in the matter of the initial attempt on Santa Cruz: “Had I been with the first party, I have reason to believe complete success would have crowned our endeavours.[23] My pride suffered; and although I felt the second attack a forlorn hope, yet the honour of our Country called for the attack, and that I should command it. I never expected to return, and am thankful.”
On the 27th September, Nelson was invested with the Ensigns of the Order of the Bath by George III. at St James’s Palace. In addition he was granted a pension of £1000 a year, having been “engaged against the Enemy upwards of one hundred and twenty times.” He became a popular hero, but as he himself said, “Success covers a multitude of blunders, and the want of it hides the greatest gallantry and good conduct.” Compared to the victory off Cape St Vincent the Santa Cruz fiasco was of little moment. Kind-hearted John Bull dismissed the latter incident and thought only of the former.