Life of Napoleon Bonaparte, Volume III.

by Walter Scott

When the certainty was known that the enemy's fleets were actually in Cadiz, Nelson was put at the head of the British naval force in the Mediterranean,[187] which was reinforced with an alertness and secrecy that did the highest honour to the Admiralty. Villeneuve, in the meantime, had, it is believed, his master's express orders to put to sea;[188] and if he had been censured for want of zeal in the action off Cape Finisterre with Calder, he was likely, as a brave man, to determine on running some risk to prove the injustice of his Emperor's reproaches. Cadiz also, being strictly blockaded by the English, the fleets of France and Spain began to be in want of necessaries. But what principally determined the French admiral on putting to sea, was his ignorance of the reinforcements received by the English, which, though they left Nelson's fleet still inferior to his own, yet brought them nearer to an equality than, had he been aware of it, would have rendered their meeting at all desirable to Villeneuve. It was another and especial point of encouragement, that circumstances led him to disbelieve the report that Nelson commanded the British fleet.[189] Under the influence of these united motives, and confiding in a plan of tactics which he had formed for resisting the favourite mode of attack practised by the English, the French admiral sailed from Cadiz on the 19th October, 1805, in an evil hour for himself and for his country.

The hostile fleets were not long in meeting, and the wind never impelled along the ocean two more gallant armaments. The advantage of numbers was greatly on the side of Villeneuve. He had thirty-three sail of the line, and seven large frigates; Nelson only twenty-seven line-of-battle ships, and three frigates. The inferiority of the English in number of men and guns was yet more considerable. The combined fleet had four thousand troops on board, many of whom, excellent rifle-men, were placed in the tops. But all odds were compensated by the quality of the British sailors, and the talents of Nelson.

Villeneuve showed no inclination to shun the eventful action. His disposition was singular and ingenious. His fleet formed a double line, each alternate ship being about a cable's length to the windward of her second a-head and a-stern, and thus the arrangements represented the chequers of a draught-board, and seemed to guard against the operation of cutting the line, as usually practised by the British. But Nelson had determined to practise the manœuvre in a manner as original as the mode of defence adopted by Villeneuve. His order for sailing was in two lines, and this was also the order for battle. An advanced squadron of eight of the fastest sailing two-deckers, was to cut off three or four of the enemy's line, a-head of their centre; the second in command, Admiral Collingwood, was to break in upon the enemy about the twelfth ship from the rear, and Nelson himself determined to bear down on the centre. The effect of these manœuvres must of course be a close and general action; for the rest Nelson knew he could trust to the determination of his officers and seamen. To his admirals and officers he explained in general, that his object was a close and decisive engagement; and that if, in the confusion and smoke of the battle, signals should not be visible, the captain would never do wrong who laid his ship alongside of the enemy.

With such dispositions on either side, the two gallant fleets met on the memorable 21st of October. Admiral Collingwood, who led the van, went down on the enemy with all his sails set, and, disdaining to furl them in the usual manner, cut the sheets, and let his canvass fly loose in the wind, as if he needed it no longer after it had borne him amidst the thickest of the enemy. Nelson run his vessel, the Victory, on board the French Redoutable; the Temeraire, a second British ship, fell on board the same vessel on the other side; another enemy's ship fell on board of the Temeraire, and the action was fiercely maintained betwixt these four vessels, which lay as close as if they had been moored together in some friendly harbour. While the Victory thus engaged the Redoutable on the starboard, she maintained from her larboard guns an incessant fire on the Bucentaur and the colossal Santa Trinidad, a vessel of four decks. The example of the admiral was universally followed by the British captains; they broke into the enemy's line on every side, engaged two or three ships at the same time, and maintained the battle at the very muzzles of the cannon. The superiority which we have claimed for our countrymen was soon made manifest. Nineteen ships of the line were captured, two were first-rate vessels, none were under seventy-four guns. Four ships of the line were taken, in a subsequent action, by Sir Richard Strachan. Seven out of the vessels which escaped into Cadiz were rendered unserviceable. The whole combined fleet was almost totally destroyed.

DEATH OF NELSON.

It is twenty years and upwards since that glorious day. But the feelings of deep sorrow mingled with those of exultation, with which we first heard the tidings of the battle of Trafalgar, still agitate our bosoms, as we record, that Nelson, the darling of Britain, bought with his life this last and decided triumph over his country's enemies. A Briton himself in every word and thought, the discharge of a sailor's duty, according to his idea, was a debt involving every feat which the most exalted bravery could perform, and every risk which the extremity of danger could present. The word to which he attached such an unlimited meaning, was often in his mouth; the idea never, we believe, absent from his mind. His last signal intimated that England expected every man to do his duty. His first words on entering the action were, "I thank the great Disposer of events for this great opportunity of doing my duty;" and with his last departing breath, he was distinctly heard to repeat the same pious and patriotic sentiment, "I thank God I have done my duty."[190] That DUTY was indeed performed, even to the utmost extent of his own comprehensive interpretation of the phrase. The good servant of his country slept not before his task was fulfilled; for, by the victory in which he fell, the naval force of the enemy was altogether destroyed, and the threat of invasion silenced for ever.

It is a remarkable coincidence, that Mack's surrender having taken place the 20th October, Napoleon was probably entering Ulm in triumph upon the very day, when the united remains of his maritime force, and the means on which, according to his own subsequent account, he relied for the subjugation of England, were flying, striking, and sinking, before the banners of Nelson. What his feelings may have been on learning the news we have no certain means of ascertaining. The Memoirs of Fouché say, upon the alleged authority of Berthier, that his emotion was extreme, and that his first exclamation was, "I cannot be every where!" implying, certainly, that his own presence would have changed the scene.[191] The same idea occurs in his conversations with Las Cases.[192] It may be greatly doubted, however, whether Napoleon would have desired to have been on board the best ship in the French navy on that memorable occasion; and it seems pretty certain, that his being so could have had no influence whatever on the fate of the day. The unfortunate Villeneuve dared not trust to his master's forgiveness. "He ought," so Buonaparte states it, "to have been victorious, and he was defeated." For this, although the mishap which usually must attend one out of the two commanders who engage in action, Villeneuve felt there was no apology to be accepted, or even offered, and the brave but unfortunate seaman committed suicide.[193] Buonaparte, on all occasions, spoke with disrespect of his memory; nor was it a sign of his judgment in nautical matters, that he preferred to this able, but unfortunate admiral, the gasconading braggart, Latouche Tréville.[194]

The unfortunate event of the battle of Trafalgar was not permitted to darken the brilliant picture, which the extraordinary campaign of Ulm and Austerlitz enabled the victor to present to the empire which he governed, and which detailed his successes in the full-blown pride of conquest. "His armies," he said, addressing the Legislative Body, the session of which he opened with great pomp on 2d March, 1806, "had never ceased to conquer, until he commanded them to cease to combat. His enemies were humbled and confounded—the royal house of Naples had ceased to reign for ever"—(the term was too comprehensive)—"the entire peninsula of Italy now made a part of the Great Empire—his generosity had permitted the return of the defeated Russians to their own country, and had re-established the throne of Austria, after punishing her by the privation of a part of her dominions." Trafalgar was then touched upon. "A tempest," he said, "had deprived him of some few vessels, after a combat imprudently entered into;"[195]—and thus he glossed over a calamitous and decisive defeat, in which so many of his hopes were shipwrecked.

INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTS.

When a sovereign has not sufficient greatness of mind to acknowledge his losses, we may, without doing him wrong, suspect him of exaggerating his successes. Those of France, in her external relations, were indeed scarcely capable of being over-estimated. But when M. de Champagny, on the 4th March following, made a relation of the internal improvements of France under the government of Buonaparte, he seems to have assumed the merit of those which only existed upon paper, and of others which were barely commenced, as well as of some that were completed. All was of course ascribed to the inspiring genius of the Emperor, to whose agency France was indebted for all her prosperity. The credit of the good city of Paris was restored, and her revenue doubled—agriculture was encouraged, by the draining of immense morasses—mendicity was abolished. Beneficial results, apparently inconsistent with each other, were produced by his regulations—the expenses of legal proceedings were abridged, and the appointments of the judges were raised. Immense and most expensive improvements, which, in other countries, or rather under other sovereigns, are necessarily reserved for times of peace, were carried on by Napoleon during the most burdensome wars against entire Europe. Forty millions had been expended on public works, of which eight great canals were quoted with peculiar emphasis, as opening all the departments of the empire to the influence of internal navigation. To conclude, the Emperor had established three hundred and seventy schools—had restored the rites of religion—re-inforced public credit by supporting the Bank—reconciled jarring factions—diminished the public imposts—and ameliorated the condition of every existing Frenchman.[196] To judge from the rapturous expressions of M. de Champagny, the Emperor was already the subject of deserved adoration; it only remained to found temples and raise altars.