Nelson: The Essential Hero (55 page)

On Sunday morning the British fleet lay guarding the entrance to the Straits. There was as yet no sign of the enemy and there was time for Collingwood and some of the other captains to come aboard
Victory
for a last discussion with Nelson. It was thick weather and rainy, and Nelson was still concerned that the enemy would evade action and return to port. Reassuring news reached him in the afternoon from Blackwood that the whole enemy fleet was at sea and appeared to be headed in a westerly direction. Nelson sent a message back that he relied on Blackwood and his frigates not to lose touch with them. He was concerned lest their destination might not be the Mediterranean after all, but the Channel approaches. He now issued his orders for communications during the coming night. If the enemy were standing to the southward, or towards the Straits, two blue lights were to be burned, but if on the other hand they were headed west ‘three guns, quick, every hour’. Collingwood had suggested that they should press for action that same day, but Nelson had rejected the idea. Although Villeneuve was only about twenty miles away, it would have meant an engagement that would have started too late for any conclusive result, and a night action involving so many ships, and in the confused melee that Nelson intended to provoke, would have involved far too great a risk of friend firing upon friend. The Atlantic was not Aboukir Bay. He intended to keep away from the enemy throughout the night so that the dawn of the twenty-first would see Villeneuve too far committed to be able to turn back and would leave the British with all the daylight hours to execute their task. His private diary reads: ‘At 8
[pm]
we wore, and stood to the S.W., and at four
am
wore, and stood to the N.E.’ Nelson was quite convinced that the morrow would bring the battle so long desired over so many months. October 21 was the forty-sixth anniversary of his uncle Maurice Suckling’s defeat of de Kersaint in the West Indies, something that had inspired Nelson to join the Navy all those years ago.

‘Cabo Trafalgar,’ reads the Admiralty Pilot, ‘called by the Romans Promontorium Junonis, and by the Arabs Taraf el agar (promontory of caves) is a small peninsula, about 66 feet high, and is uneven and sandy.’ Dangerous rocky ridges and shallows extend off it, and between Cape Trafalgar and Bajo Aceitera there is a tidal race ‘about half a mile in extent, caused by the unevenness of the bottom’. On the morning of 21 October, Villeneuve lay half-way between Cape Trafalgar and the British. The
Victory
was some twenty miles from the Cape. There was a light westerly wind and good visibility, but an ominous slow swell indicated to old hands that somewhere out in the Atlantic a westerly gale was blowing up. By steering on a parallel course to Villeneuve for most of the night, and then by standing to the north-east from four o’clock onward, Nelson had so positioned the fleet that he had reduced Villeneuve’s chances of returning to Cadiz. He had ensured that he must either maintain his course to the Straits (and be brought to battle) or must turn about - and still be brought to battle. His movements had also placed the British fleet at daybreak some nine miles to windward of the enemy - an excellent position for a commander intent on forcing an action. Furthermore, the fact that the Combined Fleet lay to the east of him meant that their ships were silhouetted against the dawn, whereas it was nearly a quarter of an hour before the French and Spaniards became aware of the cumulus clouds of sails glowing in the early light to the west.

On sighting the enemy Nelson bore away. One ship, Captain Digby’s 64-gun
Africa,
had got out of touch during the night and was some ten miles to the north of the fleet at dawn. This meant that Nelson was coming into action with only twenty-six ships against thirty-three, but it was a battle that he had carefully planned and it was taking place according to his design. Villeneuve was in a far different situation : either way he was being compelled to fight when he did not wish to do so, and when he was in command of a mixed fleet of indifferent morale which had never worked together as a unit. He decided, as Nelson had anticipated that he would, to turn his ships to the north and stand back for Cadiz. At six a.m. Nelson signalled, ‘Form the order of sailing in two columns.’ Everyone knew what this meant, for it was the order of battle which they had discussed with Nelson. They were to cut the enemy line in two places, concentrating their forces against their rear and centre.

Villeneuve in the meantime had signalled his fleet to get into line, prior to reversing course for Cadiz. It is possible that, even at this late hour, he had considered carrying on into the Mediterranean : he might always escape overnight. But one thought must have restrained him. He knew that Rear-Admiral Louis and his squadron had been down off Gibraltar so, if he pressed on, he would not only have Nelson behind him but Louis barring the gate. On the other hand, the nearer he was to Cadiz when the clearly unavoidable action took place the better, for he would have shelter to hand and the British would have none. It took the Combined Fleet over two hours before they were headed northward, and then in anything but good order, for the wind was so light, and the approaching swell so long, that the ships were very difficult to handle. (It should always be remembered that there is no man alive in the world today who could handle a fleet of ships under sail, and precious few even a single ship-of-the-line.) The British had now scrambled into their two columns, Collingwood in the
Royal Sovereign
leading the lee line of fifteen ships, and Nelson in the
Victory
leading the weather line of eleven (the
Africa
was coming down slowly from the north to rejoin them). It would take six hours for the attackers to close on Villeneuve’s long ‘crescent, con vexing to leeward’, as Collingwood described it. At 6.45 the course, which had originally been east-north-east, was amended to east, to close the angle of approach. All were repeatedly enjoined to make more sail. But, even with studding-sails set — something never before known when a fleet was going into action - the rate of approach was never more than two knots, a leisurely walking pace.

Nelson had been on the quarter-deck of the
Victory
since first light. He was wearing his old undress uniform, with the stars of his four Orders of Knighthood, but was without his sword which had been left on a table below. It had been suggested by several officers that it might be wise if the Admiral was to wear a plain uniform coat as his present one would only call him to the attention of enemy riflemen, but no one had dared to take the liberty of approaching him on this score. Mr Beatty, the surgeon, had finally elected to do so, but was unable to find any opportunity as Nelson was busy conferring with his frigate captains, Blackwood, Dundas, Capel, and Prowse. Then the Admiral went below with Blackwood and Hardy, so once again he could not get a word with him. The reason for the last two accompanying Nelson to his quarters was that he wanted them to witness a document which he had already prepared. It gave an account of Emma Hamilton’s services to the nation during her residence in Naples at the time of the Nile campaign and it concluded : Could I have rewarded these services I would not now call upon my Country; but as that has not been in my power, I leave Emma Lady Hamilton, therefore, a Legacy to my King and Country, that they will give her an ample provision to maintain her rank in life. I also leave to the beneficence of my Country my adopted daughter, Horatia Nelson Thompson; and I desire she will use in the future the name of Nelson only. These are the only favours I ask of my King and Country' at this moment when I am going to fight their battle.

The day wore on. The ships lounged forward, a rolling swell of sail that shook, came back, then filled again with a flacker as the long ocean poured beneath their keels. All was ready. The slow-matches, which were still carried in case the flint-locks missed fire, sizzled around the forked linstocks. On upper decks the bands played the traditional tunes: ‘Rule Britannia’, ‘Hearts of Oak’, and ‘Britons, Strike Home’. (Many were not Britons. The
Victory
alone was manned by a composite crew that included Americans, Scandinavians, Dutch, Swiss, Germans and Portuguese.) The bulkheads were all struck down, Nelson’s cabin was almost as bare as everywhere else, even his ‘Guardian Angel’ had been carefully taken below. Only his desk with his private diary upon it remained. In it he wrote his last words: At daylight saw the Enemy’s Combined Fleet from East to E.S.E.; bore away; made the signal for Order of Sailing, and to prepare for Battle; the Enemy with their heads to the Southward; at seven the Enemy wearing in succession. May the Great God, whom I worship, grant to my Country, and for the benefit of Europe in general, a great and glorious Victory, and may no misconduct in any one tarnish it; and may humanity after Victory be the predominant feature in the British Fleet. For myself, individually, I commit my life to Him, who made me, and may his blessing light upon my endeavours for serving my Country faithfully. To him I resign myself and the just cause which is entrusted to me to defend. Amen. Amen. Amen.

At 11 a.m. Lieutenant Pasco, who was acting as Signal Lieutenant, entered Nelson’s cabin. He was smarting from the fact that his seniority entitled him to be the executive officer and he wished to mention it to the Admiral. He stopped on entering, seeing Nelson on his knees, and ‘could not at such a moment disturb his mind with any grievance of mine’. Earlier Captain Blackwood had suggested to Nelson that he should shift his flag to the
Euryalus
, but ‘he would not hear of it, and gave as his reason the force of example’. Blackwood was as concerned as all were that the enemy would make a dead set at Nelson, and it was known that the French had special sharpshooters instructed to pick off officers visible on the quarter-decks, something which is confirmed by the fiery little Captain Lucas of the
Redoubtable
: ‘I also had on board a hundred muskets fitted with long bayonets. These were issued to picked men who were specially trained as musketeers and stationed in the rigging.’ Nelson did agree, however, to a suggestion made by Blackwood and Hardy that the
Temeraire,
which was second in the line, should be allowed to precede the
Victory
and lead into battle. It is very doubtful if he meant what, he said. His agreement, in fact, was almost certainly designed to get both ships sailing as fast as possible, for when at one moment the

The Battle of Trafalgar
Temeraire
did begin to range up on the flagship’s quarter Nelson called out: ‘I’ll thank you, Captain Harvey, to keep in your proper station, which is astern of the
Victory
.’

The swell was growing steadily more pronounced. The wind would be close on its heels. Nelson no doubt remembered how Hawke had saved the British fleet by anchoring after the action at Quiberon Bay, in which the French had suffered such a disaster from the gale that followed. He instructed Pasco to hoist the signal, ‘Prepare to anchor after the close of day.’ Previous to this he had signalled to Collingwood : ‘I intend to push or go through the end of the enemy’s line to prevent them getting into Cadiz.’ It was only as an afterthought that he remarked: ‘I’ll now amuse the Fleet,’ adding, ‘Mr Pasco, I want to say to the fleet,
England confides that every man will do his duty.
You must be quick, for I have one more to add, which is for close action.’ Pasco asked if he might substitute ‘expects’ for ‘confides’ because the first was in the signal book whereas the second would have to be spelled out, involving seven more flag hoists. Nelson agreed : ‘That will do; make it directly.’ Collingwood’s reaction was typical of the dour old Northumbrian : ‘What
is
Nelson signalling about? We all know what we have to do.’ The gap between the fleets was closing very slowly, for the wind had fallen even further, and the rate of approach was now only about one and a half knots.
Victory
now made Signal No. 16 to the Fleet, ‘Close Action’. The flag remained at her topgallant masthead until it was shot away.

Two eyewitnesses set the scene as the twin arrowheads bore down on the extended curve of the Combined Fleet. A midshipman in the
Neptune
wrote : It was a beautiful sight when their line was completed, their broadsides turned towards us, showing their iron teeth. Some of the enemy’s ships were painted like ourselves with double yellow streaks, some with a broad single red or yellow streak, others all black, and the noble
Santissima Trinidad
with four distinct lines of red, with a white ribbon between them, made her seem to be a superb man-of-war, which, indeed, she was. Her appearance was imposing, her head splendidly ornamented with a colossal group of figures, painted white, representing the Holy Trinity from which she took her name.

Aboard the
Ajax
Second-Lieutenant Ellis of the Marines remembered how I was sent below with orders and was much struck with the preparations made by the bluejackets, the majority of whom were stripped to the waist; a handkerchief was tightly bound round their heads and over the ears, to deaden the noise of the cannon, many men being deaf for days after an action. The men were variously occupied - some were sharpening their cutlasses, others polishing the guns, as though an inspection were about to take place instead of mortal combat, whilst three or four, as if in mere bravado, were dancing a hornpipe. Occasionally they would look out of the ports and speculate as to the various ships of the enemy, many of which had been on former occasions engaged by our vessels.