“May 22.—S. 70.15 W., dist. 589 leagues.”
The careful comparison of observations with the vessels of the weather line, repairs to spars and sails, and general preparation for what might happen on arrival, seem to fill up the days, while the north-east trade winds gave them fine and clear weather.
“Oh, the wonder of the great trade wind! All day we sailed and all night, and all the next day, and the next, day after day, the wind always astern and blowing steadily and strong. The schooner sailed herself. There was no pulling and hauling on sheets and tackles, no shifting of topsails, no work at all for the sailors to do except to steer. At night, when the sun went down, the sheets were slackened; in the morning when they yielded up the damp of the dew and relaxed, they were pulled tight again—and that was all. Ten knots, twelve knots, eleven knots, varying from time to time, is the speed we are making. And ever out of the north-east the brave wind blows, driving us on our course two hundred and fifty miles between the dawns.”
These words, taken from one of our popular modern novels,[1] give us some idea of what sailing was in those days.
The usual record every twelve hours is “Victory north one mile.” Sometimes the flagship is rather more distant, and occasionally the “Admiral (Louis) went on board the Victory.” Doubtless the impatience and excitement was not all on Nelson’s part. Every man in the fleet must have felt that a battle was not far off. All this time the three frigates were almost daily out in chase, but no enemy was sighted, and it was not until June 3 that the Admiral signalled that the French and Spanish squadrons were at Martinique, “having gained this intelligence from two English letters of marque.”
Next day they arrived at Barbadoes, where the Admiral gave orders to embark troops. Nine regiments had been sent out from England in the spring, but had not arrived in time to prevent Missiessy and his squadron from Rochefort from doing much as they chose during his stay among the islands. His troops had taken possession of Dominica, excepting a fort held by General Prevost’s force, and he had laid under contribution Montserrat, Nevis and St. Kitt’s.
Missiessy had then departed, according to the Emperor’s instructions, for France, crossing Villeneuve’s fleet in Mid-Atlantic. Thus Napoleon’s grand scheme of combination fell through. The fleets from Toulon and Rochefort missed each other, instead of meeting at the West Indies, and the Brest fleet did not succeed in getting past the British blockade. The Canopus log of July 17 records the return of Missiessy’s squadron. “Five sail of the line and four frigates arrived at Rochefort, on May 21. Vessels dismantled and remained.”
The troops embarked by the squadron at Barbadoes were some of those despatched hither in the spring. There is a record of a characteristic order on June 3:
“Admiral made telegraph signal—‘Troops to be victualled at whole allowance of provisions.’” The practice of the day was that soldiers at sea received smaller rations than the ship’s company—just the sort of unreasonable orders which it would delight Nelson to set aside.
Early on the 5th the squadron was again under weigh, the Victory leading and the Canopus astern; but in consequence of wrong information received they were on a southerly course, and hourly increasing their distance from the combined enemy’s fleet, which was still among the islands, but to the northward of Martinique. The signal at three o’clock “to prepare for battle” was not to be followed by any immediate action.