The conclusion then is that, though some of the ships destined to form the advanced squadron had not arrived by the 9th when the memorandum was issued, Nelson had already taken steps to organise it, and that on the evening of the 19th, the first moment he had active contact with the enemy, it was detached from the fleet as a separate unit. Up to this moment it would look as though he had intended to use it as his memorandum directed. Since with the exception of the Agamemnon and the Leviathan, which had only temporarily replaced the Defence while she watered, the whole of the ships named belonged to Collingwood's division, the resulting organisation would have been, lee-line nine ships, weather-line eight ships, and eight for the advanced squadron—an organisation which in relative proportion was almost exactly that which he had explained to Keats. It would therefore still have rendered Nelson's original plan of attack possible, although it did not preserve the balance of the divisions prescribed in the memorandum.
There can be little doubt, however, that Nelson on the morning of the battle did abandon the idea of the advanced squadron altogether. Early on the 20th it was broken up again. At 8 o'clock in the morning of that day the captains of the Mars, Colossus and Defence (which apparently was by this time ready again for service) were called on board the Victory and ordered out to form a chain as before between the admiral and his frigates.[29] The rest presumably resumed their stations in the fleet. Even if he had not actually abandoned this part of his plan, it is clear that in his hurry to attack Nelson would not spend time in reforming the squadron as a separate unit, but chose rather to carry out his design, so far as was possible, with two divisions only. So soon as he sighted the enemy's fleet at daylight on the 21st, he made the signal to form the line of battle in two columns, and with one exception the whole of the advanced ships took station in their respective divisions according to the original order of battle and sailing.'[30] The exception was Codrington's ship, the Orion. No importance however need be attached to this, for although he was originally in Collingwood's division he may well have been transferred to Nelson's some time before. It is only worthy of remark because Codrington, of all the advanced squadron captains, was the only one, so far as we know, who still considered the squadron a potential factor in the fleet and acted accordingly. While Belleisle, Mars, Bellerophon and Colossus rushed into the fight in the van of Collingwood's line, Orion in the rear of Nelson's held her fire even when she got into action, and cruised about the mêlée, carefully seeking points where she could do most damage to an enemy, or best help an overmatched friend—well-judged piece of service, on which he dwells in his correspondence over and over again with pardonable complacency. He was thus able undoubtedly to do admirable service in the crisis of the action.
That the bulk of his colleagues thought all idea of a reserve squadron had been abandoned by Nelson is clear, and the resulting change was certainly great enough to explain why some of the captains thought the plan of the memorandum had been abandoned altogether. For not only was the attack made in two divisions instead of one, and in line ahead instead of line abreast, but its prescribed balance was entirely upset. Instead of Nelson having the larger portion of the fleet for containing the van and centre, Collingwood had the larger portion for the attack on the rear. In other words, instead of the advanced squadron being under Nelson's direction, the bulk of it was attached to Collingwood. If some heads—even as clear as Codrington's—were puzzled, it is little wonder.
As to the way in which this impulsive change of plan was brought about, Codrington says, 'They [the enemy] suddenly wore round so as to have Cadiz under their lee, with every appearance of a determination to go into that port. Lord Nelson therefore took advantage of their confusion in wearing, and bore down to attack them with the fleet in two columns.' This was in the note dictated to Lady Bourchier, and in a letter of October 28, 1805, to Lord Garlies he says, 'We all scrambled into battle as soon as we could.'[31]
Codrington's allusion to Nelson's alleged feint on the enemy's van brings us to the last point; the question, that is, as to whether, apart from the substitution of the perpendicular for the parallel attack, and in spite of the change of balance, the two lines were actually handled in the action according to the principles of the memorandum for the intended attack from to-windward.
Lady Bourchier's note continues, after referring to Nelson's intention to make a feint on the van, 'The Victory did accordingly haul to port: and though she took in her larboard and weather studding sails, she kept her starboard studding sails set (notwithstanding they had become the lee ones and were shaking), thus proving that he proposed to resume his course, as those sails would be immediately wanted to get the Victory into her former station.' The note in Nicolas is to the same effect, but adds that Codrington had no doubt that having taken in his weather studding sails he kept the lee ones 'set and shaking in order to make it clear to the fleet that his movement was merely a feint, and that the Victory would speedily resume her course and fulfil his intention of cutting through the centre.' And in admiration of the movement Codrington called his first lieutenant and said, 'How beautifully the admiral is carrying his design into effect!' Though all this was written long after, when his memory perhaps was fading, it is confirmed by a contemporary entry in his log: 'The Victory, after making a feint as of attacking the enemy's van, hauled to starboard so as to reach their centre.'[32] This is all clear enough so far, but now we have to face a signal mentioned in the log of the Euryalus which, as she was Nelson's repeating frigate, cannot be ignored. According to this high authority Nelson, about a quarter of an hour before making his immortal signal, telegraphed 'I intend to push or go through the end of the enemy's line to prevent them from getting into Cadiz.' It is doubtful how far this signal was taken in, but those who saw it must have thought that Nelson meant to execute Howe's manoeuvre upon the enemy's leading ships. At this time, according to the master of the Victory, he was standing for the enemy's van. Nelson also signalled to certain ships to keep away a point to port. The Victory's log has this entry: 'At 4 minutes past 12 opened our fire on the enemy's van, in passing down their line.' At 30 minutes past 12 the Victory got up with Villeneuve's flagship and then broke through the line. Now at first sight it might appear that Nelson really intended to attack the van and not the centre, on the principle of Hoste's old manoeuvre which Howe had reintroduced into the Signal Book for attacking a numerically superior fleet—that is, van to van and rear to rear, leaving the enemy's centre unoccupied.[33] For the old signal provided that when this was done 'the flag officers are, if circumstances permit, to engage the flag officers of the enemy,' which was exactly what Nelson was doing. On this supposition his idea would be that his ships should attack the enemy ahead of Villeneuve as they came up. And this his second, the Téméraire, actually did. But, as we have seen by Instruction XXIV. of 1799, the old rule of 1790 had been altered, and if Nelson intended to execute Hoste's plan of attack he, as 'leading ship,' would or should have engaged the enemy's 'leading ship,' leaving the rest as they could to engage the enemy of 'greatest force.' The only explanation is that, if he really intended to attack the van, he again changed his mind when he fetched up with Villeneuve, and could not resist engaging him. More probably, however, the signal was wrongly repeated by the Euryalus, and as made by Nelson it was really an intimation to Collingwood that he meant to cover the attack on the rear and centre by a feint on the van.[34]
However this may be, the French appear to have regarded Nelson's movement to port as a real attack. Their best account (which is also perhaps the best account that exists) says that just before coming into gun-shot the two British columns began to separate. The leading vessels of Nelson's column, it says, passed through the same interval astern of the Bucentaure, and then it tells how 'les vaisseaux de queue de cette colonne, au contraire, serrèrent un peu le vent, comme pour s'approcher des vaisseaux de l'avant-garde de la flotte combinée: mais après avoir reçu quelques bordées de ces vaisseaux ils abandonnérent ce dessein et se portèrent vers les vaisseaux placés entre le Redoutable et la Santa Anna ou vinrent unir leurs efforts à ceux des vaisseaux anglais qui combattaient déjà le Bucentaure et la Santísima Trinidad.'[35] This is to some extent confirmed by Dumanoir himself, who commanded the allied van, in his official memorandum addressed to Decrès, December 30, 1809. In defending his failure to tack sooner to Villeneuve's relief, he says, 'Au commencement du combat, la colonne du Nord [i.e. Nelson's] se dirigea sur l'avant-garde qui engagea avec elle pendant quarante minutes.'[36] In partial corroboration of this there is the statement in the log of the Téméraire, the ship that was immediately behind Nelson, that she opened her fire on the Santísima Trinidad and the two ships ahead of her; that is, she engaged the ships ahead of where Nelson broke the line, so that Captain Harvey as well as Dumanoir may have believed that Nelson intended his real attack to be on 'the end of the line.'
In the face of these facts it is impossible to say categorically that Nelson intended nothing but a feint on the van. It is equally impossible to say he intended a real attack. The point perhaps can never be decided with absolute certainty, but it is this very uncertainty that brings out the true merit and the real lesson of Nelson's attack. As we now may gather from his captains' opinions, its true merit was not that he threw his whole fleet on part of a superior enemy—that was a commonplace in tactics. It was not concentration on the rear, for that also was old; and what is more, as the attack was delivered, so far from Nelson concentrating, he boldly, almost recklessly, exposed himself for a strategical object to what should have been an overwhelming concentration on the leading ships of his two columns. The true merit of it above all previous methods of concentration and containing was that, whether, as planned or as delivered, it prevented the enemy from knowing on which part of their line Nelson intended to throw his squadron, just as we are prevented from knowing to this day. 'They won't know what I am about' were his words to Keats.
The point is clearer still when we compare the different ways in which Nelson and Collingwood brought their respective columns into action. Collingwood in his Journal says that shortly before 11 o'clock, that is, an hour before getting into action, he signalled 'for the lee division to form the larboard line of bearing.' The effect and intention of this would be that each ship in his division would head on the shortest course to break the enemy's line in all parts. It was the necessary signal for enabling him to carry out regularly Howe's manoeuvre upon the enemy's rear, and his object was declared for all to see.[37] Nelson, on the other hand, made no such signal, but held on in line ahead, giving no indication of whether he intended to perform the manoeuvre on the van or the centre, or whether he meant to cut the line in line ahead. Until they knew which it was to be, it was impossible for the enemy to take any step to concentrate with either division, and thus Nelson held them both immobile while Collingwood flung himself on his declared objective.
Nothing could be finer as a piece of subtle tactics. Nothing could be more daring as a well-judged risk. The risk was indeed enormous, perhaps the greatest ever taken at sea. Hawke risked much at Quiberon, and much was risked at the Nile. But both were sea-risks of the class to which our seamen were enured. At Trafalgar it was a pure battle-risk—a mad, perpendicular attack in which every recognised tactical card was in the enemy's hand. But Nelson's judgment was right. He knew his opponent's lack of decision, he knew the individual shortcomings of the allied ships, and he knew he had only to throw dust, as he did, in their eyes for the wild scheme to succeed. As Jurien de la Gravière has most wisely said 'Le génie de Nelson c'est d'avoir compris notre faiblesse.'