Nelson: Britannia's God of War (47 page)

On 6 May 1803 Nelson achieved a long-held ambition: he was appointed Commander in Chief of the Mediterranean Fleet. With war inevitable, he waited for orders at Merton.
¹
As soon as they arrived, he hurried down to Portsmouth, boarding his flagship HMS
Victory
on 18 May, the day war was declared.

Many of the causes of the war lay in the Mediterranean. After a succession of alarming, expansionist French moves – annexing Leghorn and Elba, dominating Spain, negotiating with the Barbary states, securing favourable access to the Black Sea and Russian trade, looking to resume unfinished business in Egypt, even extending the Republican empire to India – Malta proved to be the sticking point, as Nelson had anticipated. To give it up, as required by the Treaty of Amiens, would cripple British political influence, economic activity and strategic power in the Mediterranean. That would be to buy peace at too high a price.

The government had been preparing for war. In February the appropriately named sloop
Weazle
reconnoitred the Maddalena and otherisland groups on the coast of Sardinia, looking for sources of woodand water and to see ‘how far those places may be capable of sheltering a Fleet’.
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This was the ideal location for the watch on Toulon. In early March the government ordered the current Commander in
Chief, Rear Admiral Sir Richard Bickerton, to intercept and destroy the French fleet if it appeared to be heading for Egypt.
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He was at sea before the outbreak of war.
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Addington’s strategic choices were severely limited. It was 1801 all over again. France, including Belgium, Holland, parts of Germany and Italy, possessed a mighty army, led by a military dictator bent on further aggression, not least to stoke the fires of nationalism and spread the cost of his army. Britain could recover her command of the sea, impose a blockade and sweep up the newly recovered French colonies, aside from Louisiana, which Bonaparte cynically sold to the United States, well aware that he could hold it. The rest of Europe would remain on the sidelines. Austria was exhausted and nervous, Russia uncertain and Prussia hoped to make something of the inevitable conflict. The only threat to France would come if two of these powers went to war. While their mutual distrust equalled their fear of France this was unlikely.

Negotiations had been tried, accommodation attempted, but both failed. This time the Anglo-French struggle would be a war to the finish – total war, which only one regime would survive. For a man of modest political talent, Addington showed remarkable courage in taking on a massive, seemingly unwinnable war. He was forced to plan for a long war, one in which British economic power would wear down France. It could only be waged as a counter-attacking conflict. France’s only hope of victory lay in an invasion of Britain, and Addington hoped they would make the attempt. It would be a mistake of the same nature as Egypt, opening the way for a decisive counter-stroke. Only after the annihilation of the French army at sea would the rest of Europe act.

With the income tax reformed and reimposed, Addington was confident that Britain could outlast France, while Nelson was the one British commander with the insight, energy and commitment to exploit a fleeting opportunity to crush the French. Bonaparte could not secure peace without crossing the Channel, and this left him stuck at Boulogne. Every month he waited made his presence more ridiculous. He could not hope to put to sea without being seen, engaged by the inshore squadron of Edward Owen, and wiped out by Lord Keith’s fleet. It was this conundrum that made Nelson so confident the French fleet would be forced to come to sea. He knew they would not come out from Brest, where his old friend Cornwallis kept them tightly
bound with a close blockade of astonishing commitment and professionalism. The Mediterranean, by contrast, was further from home, so although Nelson was taking a risk by leaving the way open off Toulon, it was done to secure the destruction of the enemy.

This cautious strategy governed the first year of Nelson’s command.It unravelled in 1805 when Pitt forced the pace of diplomatic activity, creating the Third Coalition and giving Bonaparte a chance to escape, reconstruct his motives into an
ex
post
facto
strategy of genius, and secure a fresh lease on power with vastly greater resources through the inevitable failure of the Austrians and Russians at Ulm and Austerlitz.
⁵
A little more patience might have paid dividends.

To command the Mediterranean theatre required self-sufficiency, decisiveness and political courage, since it was a theatre where time and distance left much more for the admiral to decide than in the Downs, the Baltic or the Grand Fleet. With bases at Gibraltar and Malta, the British could divide the theatre into three areas: the eastern and western basins and the Adriatic. All were vital, but as long as the enemy fleet could be kept in the western basin, the other two areas only required cruiser squadrons. Consequently Nelson spent his time with the battle fleet in the triangle Naples–Gibraltar–Toulon, with a near-perfect central base on the Sardinian coast. The greatest danger was that the enemy fleet would escape to the Atlantic, to attack British trade and possessions or support an invasion of England or Ireland.

Britain’s options in the theatre, though less dramatic, remained impressive. Naval power could cripple the movement of troops and economic activity by pressing close to the coast. Though the French could complete their conquest of Italy at will, they could not escape the Continent without a fleet. The presence of the fleet bolstered British diplomacy, encouraged friendly neutrals, and limited the impact of French threats. The blockade of France and her satellites led to widespread ruin, which greatly reduced the value of French territorial expansion as a mechanism for waging war with Britain.

Nelson worked closely with British ministers at Naples, the Ottoman Porte and Madrid; together with a constellation of minor diplomatic office-holders, they provided vital intelligence. As contact with London was intermittent, instructions tended to be general, and permissive. This left far more to the man on the spot than in the other major fleet commands, and explains why Nelson was the ideal commander. It was not his mastery of the Mediterranean or his importunity
that gained him this command, but his instinct for acting on his own judgement and his political courage. He did not need to be supervised, or to refer back to London.

While the destruction of the Toulon squadron was at the core of Nelson’s instructions, his role was far wider. He was to proceed to Malta, link up with the fleet, take over from Bickerton and discuss the situation with Ball, now Governor of the island. He would take station off Toulon ‘to take, sink, burn or otherwise destroy any ships belonging to France, or the citizens of that Republic’, and he should also seize any Batavian [Dutch] ships. He was to watch French proceedings at Genoa, Leghorn and other ports on the west coast of Italy for intelligence of plans to attack Egypt, Turkey or Naples, all places he was to secure. He should give such protection to British trade as was consistent with his other orders; he should also watch Spanish naval preparations – not offering any insult to Spain or her shipping if she remained neutral, but stopping Spanish warships from entering French ports or joining a French fleet. If he had any ships to spare he should place a squadron in the Straits to watch for French warships returning from an ill-fated expedition to St Domingo (modern Haiti). This general advice was the limit of the Admiralty’s strategic and political guidance for the next six months, though it continued to require regular reports.
⁶

On 20 May Nelson left Spithead with a north wind and driving rain, heading for the Grand Fleet rendezvous off Ushant. He was to ask Cornwallis if he needed the
Victory
before heading to his station. Also on board was Hugh Elliot, the new minister to Naples and brother of his old friend Lord Minto. The voyage established a key relationship for the forthcoming command, the two men being thrown much closer together then they had anticipated by the failure to find Cornwallis. After lamenting the loss of a favourable wind, they left the flagship behind, shifting into the frigate
Amphion
, commanded by Hardy. Cornwallis, as Nelson knew, would not keep his friend’s flagship, so the whole incident took on the character of a farce.
⁷
It also underlined the Admiralty’s obsession with the Channel fleet.

Once at sea Nelson wrote to Emma only every three or four weeks. He lamented that they were now on different elements, and asked her to take care of ‘our dear child’. He also requested her to send Stephens’
History of the French Revolution,
perhaps to check if the author had profited from his advice.
⁸
Occasionally this correspondence
was delegated to his secretary John Scott, who knew Emma. Some letters were partly dictated or written by Nelson, partly by Scott.
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The emotional role of the letters was vital – they allowed him to dream of a real home, his ‘wife’ and child. But they did not distract him from his duty any more than his letters to Fanny in the 1790s.

After a brief stop at Gibraltar, to check on Spanish activity at Cadiz and arrange local convoys and patrols against the inevitable French privateers, Nelson hurried on to Malta. He sent Elliot to his post at Naples, armed with friendly messages for Sir John Acton, the King and Queen, recognising that it would not be in the Neapolitan interest for him to visit. With French troops already in part of the Kingdom, neutrality was the best policy for Naples, but Nelson was determined to keep the French out of Sicily.
¹⁰
This included censuring the captain of the
Cyclops
for seizing French ships in Naples harbour, a clear violation of neutrality. The ships were returned, and a public letter sent to Acton for the French minister to read.
¹¹
Ferdinand, well aware of his exposed position, was very grateful for British support and Nelson’s presence.
¹²
Nelson also wrote to the British Minister at Turin, offering his assistance to the King of Sardinia and to his Copenhagen colleague William Drummond, recently translated to Istanbul with letters for the Grand Vizier and Capitan Pasha, the senior Turkish naval officer. He wanted news from the eastern Mediterranean, fearing the French were moving into the Balkans.
¹³

Nelson’s return to the Mediterranean was the first indication to many that war had been declared, and while he hoped for prizes he promised Addington that ‘You may rely on my activity in getting off Toulon.’
¹⁴
He had to assess the situation, analyse the intelligence and develop an effective counter to Bonaparte’s strategy. His main problem was the relative lack of force at his disposal. The Malta garrison was less than five thousand troops, and he had been authorised to send half of these to Messina, but this would expose the island to a counterstroke. His fleet, meanwhile, was no larger than the French fleet at Toulon, and had nothing to counter the possibility of Spanish involvement, or to cover other tasks. He had to block Bonaparte in the Mediterranean, while other fleets cleared the seas and islands of the French, and protected the home base. There would be no reinforcements, few replacements and only limited quantities of dockyard stores.

Arriving at Malta on 15 June, Nelson found that Bickerton was
already at sea off Toulon. He spent thirty-six hours ashore, discussing the situation with Ball and writing to the key players in the eastern basin. The senior army officer on the island, General Villettes, agreed to hold twelve hundred British troops, ready to occupy Messina. Nelson soon shaped a course through the Straits of Messina. Though the sight of Vesuvius must have stirred old memories, he could not go ashore without attracting French attention to the Kingdom, so he sent his dispatches and letters by boat. The political news was worrying, but a secret agreement between Elliot and Acton held out the best hope for Sicily. When danger threatened the British would occupy Messina. To forestall an attack Nelson’s fleet would cruise between Elba and Genoa, blocking any French expedition south.

On 1 July Nelson ordered that Genoese and Ligurian vessels should be detained until the Admiralty responded to his request of that day for further advice. His rationale for an extended blockade encapsulated British strategy:

Sea power would squeeze France and her satellites, while steadily increasing economic pressure would break their resolve, weaken Bonaparte’s grip on power and open the way for other states to combine with Britain.
¹⁵
The ministers were quick to agree.
¹⁶
Realising the French would try to evade the blockade by using neutral carriers, he sought a legal opinion.
¹⁷

Nelson took care to send any contentious material through St Vincent, leaving it to his discretion whether it was passed on to the Admiralty Board or the Cabinet. He also explained his views to Lord Moira, the one figure in political circles he admired sufficiently to entrust with his proxy vote. To them he confided his fears. All Italy, save Naples, was already as French as France – Bonaparte clearly meant to recover Egypt and then, ‘sooner or later, farewell India!’ His greatest concern was that the Brest fleet would evade Cornwallis and descend on the Mediterranean, as Bruix and Ganteaume had in 1799 and 1800. If they did, French troops would move quickly, and the entire theatre would be lost beyond recall.
¹⁸
He relied on his ships in the Straits for adequate warning to bring any French force to action.
¹⁹