Although not definitely so stated, it is shown, by an allusion, that Nelson at this time entertained, among other ideas, the project of keeping afloat in transports a body of three thousand troops, which should hover upon the coast, and by frequent descents impose a constant insecurity upon the long line of communications from Nice to Genoa. The same plan was advocated by him against the Spanish peninsula in later years.[36] Of this conception it may be said that it is sound in principle, but in practice depends largely upon the distance from the centre of the enemy's power at which its execution is attempted. Upon the Spanish coast, in 1808, in the hands of Lord Cochrane, it was undoubtedly a most effective secondary operation; but when that distinguished officer proposed to apply a like method, even though on a much greater scale, to the western coast of France, against the high-road south of Bordeaux, it can scarcely be doubted that he would have met a severe disappointment, such as attended similar actions upon the Channel in the Seven Years' War. On the Riviera, in 1795, this means might have been decisive; in 1796, in the face of Bonaparte's fortified coast, it could scarcely have been more than an annoyance. At all events, the advocacy of it testifies to the acuteness and energy with which Nelson threw himself into the operations especially intrusted to him.

His letters during this period reflect the varying phases of hope and of discouragement; but, upon the whole, the latter prevails. There is no longer the feeling of neglect by his superior, of opportunity slipping away through the inadequate force which timid counsels and apathetic indolence allowed him. He sees that the chance which was permitted to pass unimproved has now gone forever. "As the French cannot want supplies to be brought into the Gulf of Genoa, for their grand army," he writes to the admiral, "I am still of opinion that if our frigates are wanted for other services, they may very well be spared from the Gulf." And again, "As the service for which my distinguishing pendant was intended to be useful, is nearly if not quite at an end, I assure you I shall have no regret in striking it." Sir John Jervis, he asserts with pride, has cruised with the fleet in the Gulf of Genoa, close to shore, "where I will venture to say no fleet ever cruised before—no officer can be more zealous or able to render any service in our profession to England;" yet from the decks of the flagship he and Nelson had helplessly watched a convoy passing close in shore, and directly to windward, but wholly out of reach of their powers of offence. At times, indeed, somewhat can be accomplished. For several days the "Agamemnon" "has kept close to shore, and harassed the enemy's troops very much. Field pieces are drawn out on our standing in shore. You must defend me if any Genoese towns are knocked down by firing at enemy's batteries. I will not fire first." Six weeks later he writes again: "Our conduct has so completely alarmed the French that all their coasting trade is at an end; even the corvette, gunboats, &c., which were moored under the fortress of Vado, have not thought themselves in security, but are all gone into Savona Mole, and unbent their sails."

This movement, however, which he notes under the date of June 23, proceeded probably less from fear than from the growing indifference of the French concerning their communications by water, now that their occupation of the line of the Adige River had solidified their control over the ample resources of Piedmont and Lombardy. At the very hour when Nelson was thus writing, he learned also the critical condition of Leghorn through the approach of a French division, the mere sending of which showed Bonaparte's sense of his present security of tenure.

Nelson had severed by this time his long and affectionate connection with the battered "Agamemnon." On the 4th of June the old ship anchored at San Fiorenzo, having a few days before, with the assistance of the squadron, cut out from under the French batteries the vessels carrying Bonaparte's siege-train, as well as the gunboats which convoyed them. There was then in the bay the "Egmont," seventy-four, whose commander had expressed to the admiral his wish to return to England. Jervis, therefore, had ordered Nelson to the spot, to make the exchange, and the latter thought the matter settled; but to his surprise he found the captain did not wish to leave the station unless the ship went also. This did away with the vacancy he looked to fill; and, as the "Agamemnon," from her condition, must be the first of the fleet to go home, it seemed for the moment likely that he would have to go in her with a convoy then expected in the bay. "I remained in a state of uncertainty for a week," he wrote to his wife; "and had the corn ships, which were momentarily expected from Naples, arrived, I should have sailed for England." The dilemma caused him great anxiety; for the longing for home, which he had felt in the early part of the winter, had given away entirely before the pride and confidence he felt in the new admiral, and the keen delight in active service he was now enjoying. "I feel full of gratitude for your good wishes towards me," he wrote to Jervis in the first moment of disappointment, "and highly flattered by your desire to have me continue to serve under your command, which I own would afford me infinite satisfaction." The following day he is still more restless. "I am not less anxious than yesterday for having slept since my last letter. Indeed, Sir, I cannot bear the thoughts of leaving your command." He then proposed several ways out of the difficulty, which reduced themselves, in short, to a readiness to hoist his pendant in anything, if only he could remain.

No violent solution was needed, as several applicants came forward when Nelson's wish was known. On the 11th of June, 1796, he shifted his broad pendant to the "Captain," of seventy-four guns, taking with him most of his officers. Soon afterwards the "Agamemnon" sailed for England. Up to the last day of his stay on board, Nelson, although a commodore, was also her captain; it was not until two months after joining his new ship that another captain was appointed to her, leaving to himself the duties of commodore only. In later years the "Agamemnon" more than once bore a share in his career. She was present at Copenhagen and at Trafalgar, being in this final scene under the command of an officer who had served in her as his first lieutenant, and was afterwards his flag-captain at the Nile. In 1809 she was totally lost in the river La Plata, having run aground, and then settled on one of her anchors, which, upon the sudden shoaling of the water, had been let go to bring her up.[37] It is said that there were then on board several seamen who had been with her during Nelson's command.

On the 13th of June the "Captain" sailed from San Fiorenzo Bay, and on the 17th joined the fleet off Cape Sicie, near Toulon, where Jervis, six weeks before, had established the first of those continuous close blockades which afterwards, off Brest, became associated with his name, and proved so potent a factor in the embarrassments that drove Napoleon to his ruin. There were then twelve British ships off the port, while inside the enemy had eleven ready for sea, and four or five more fitting. The following day Nelson again left the fleet, and on the 21st of June arrived at Genoa, where very serious news was to be received.

The triumphant and hitherto unchecked advance of Bonaparte had greatly encouraged the French party in Corsica, which had been increased by a number of malcontents, dissatisfied with their foreign rulers. Owing to the disturbed condition of the interior, the British troops had been drawn down to the sea-coast. Bonaparte, from the beginning of his successes, had kept in view the deliverance of his native island, which he expected to effect by the exertions of her own people, stimulated and supported by the arrival upon the spot of Corsican officers and soldiers from the French armies. These refugees, proceeding in parties of from ten to twenty each, in small boats, movable by sail or oars, and under cover of night, could seldom be stopped, or even detected, by the British cruisers, while making the short trip, of little more than a hundred miles, from Genoa, Nice, and Leghorn. The latter port, from its nearness, was particularly favorable to these enterprises; but, although neutral, and freely permitting the ingress and egress of vessels belonging to both belligerents, its facilities for supporting a Corsican uprising were not so great as they would be if the place were held for the French. For this reason, partly, Bonaparte had decided to seize it; and he was still more moved to do so by the fact that it was a centre of British trade, that it contributed much to the supply and repair of the British fleet, and that the presence of vessels from the latter enabled an eye to be kept upon the movements of the Corsicans, and measures to be taken for impeding them.

"The enemy possessing themselves of Leghorn," Nelson had written in the middle of March, when expecting them to do so by a coastwise expedition, "cuts off all our supplies, such as fresh meat, fuel, and various other most essential necessaries; and, of course, our fleet cannot always [in that case] be looked for on the northern coast of Italy." Bonaparte had not, indeed, at that time, contemplated any such ex-centric movement, which, as things then were, would have risked so large a part of his army out of his own control and his own support; but in the middle of June, having driven the Austrians for the moment into the Tyrol, consolidated his position upon the Adige, established the siege of Mantua, and enforced order and submission throughout the fertile valley of the Po, which lay in rear of his army and amply supplied it with the necessaries of subsistence, he felt not only able to spare the force required, but that for the security of the right flank and rear of his army it had become essential to do so. The Papacy and Naples, although they had contributed little to the active campaigning of the allies, were still nominally at war with France, and might possibly display more energy now that operations were approaching their own frontiers. Should the British take possession of Leghorn with a body of troops,—their own or Neapolitan,—the port would remain a constant menace to the operations and communications of the French, and especially at the critical moments when the Austrians advanced to the relief of Mantua, as they must be expected to do, and actually did on four several occasions during the succeeding six months.

Bonaparte, as he was ever wont, diligently improved the opportunity permitted to him by the need of the Austrians to reorganize and reinforce Beaulieu's beaten army before again taking the field. Threatened, as often again in later years, by enemies in divergent directions, he with the utmost promptitude and by the most summary measures struck down the foe on one side, before the other could stir. Occupying Verona in the first days of June, he immediately afterwards detached to the southward a corps under Augereau to enter the Papal States; and at the same time another small division, commanded by General Vaubois, started from the upper valley of the Po, ostensibly destined to proceed against Rome by passing through Tuscany. The effect of Augereau's movement, which was closely followed by the commander-in-chief in person, was to bring both Naples and the Pope speedily to terms. An armistice was signed by the former on the 5th, and by the latter on the 24th of June. Vaubois, on the other hand, after passing the Arno below Florence, instead of continuing on to Siena, as the Grand Duke had been assured that he would, turned sharp to the westward, and on the 28th of June entered Leghorn, which was thenceforth held by the French. Thus within a brief month were the British deprived of two allies, lethargic, it is true, in actual performance, but possessed of a degree of potential strength that could not but enter largely into Bonaparte's anxieties; while at the same time they lost the use of a seaport that had heretofore been considered essential to their support.

Rumors of Vaubois' movement reached Nelson in Genoa at noon of June 23, but somewhat vaguely. "Reports are all we have here," he wrote to Jervis the same day, "nothing official from the armies;" but he thought the situation critical, and started without delay for Leghorn. Arriving there on the morning of June 27, after a passage rendered tedious by light airs and calms, he found the British merchant vessels that had been in the harbor, to the number of nearly forty sail, already under way, laden with British merchants and their property, and standing out under convoy of several ships of war; while in pursuit of them—a singular indication of the neutrality possible to small States like Tuscany and Genoa at that time—were a dozen French privateers, which had been lying beside them within the mole. One or two of the departing vessels were thus taken.

The first impression upon Nelson's mind was that the occupation of Leghorn was only the prelude to an invasion of Corsica in force. "I have no doubt," he wrote to the Viceroy, "but the destination of the French army was Corsica, and it is natural to suppose their fleet was to amuse ours whilst they cross from Leghorn." Thus reasoning, he announced his purpose of rejoining the admiral as soon as possible, so as not to lose his share in the expected battle. "My heart would break," he says to Jervis, "to be absent at such a glorious time;" but it is difficult to understand why he imagined that the French would transfer their army into the destitution of the Corsican mountains from the fertile plains of Lombardy, abandoning the latter to their enemy, and exchanging their assured communications with France for the uncertainties and irregularities of a water transit over seas commanded by the British fleet. The tenure of the island, as he well knew, depended upon the willing support of the Corsicans themselves; in the equal balance of the existing war, neither belligerent could maintain its control against the opposition of the natives.

This anticipation, in its disregard of the perfectly obvious conditions, was scarcely worthy of Nelson's real native sagacity, and shows clearly how much a man, even of genius, is hampered in the conclusions of actual life by the lack of that systematic ordering and training of the ideas which it is the part of education to supply. Genius is one thing, the acquirements of an accomplished—instructed—officer are another, yet there is between the two nothing incompatible, rather the reverse; and when to the former, which nature alone can give,—and to Nelson did give,—is added the conscious recognition of principles, the practised habit of viewing, under their clear light, all the circumstances of a situation, assigning to each its due weight and relative importance, then, and then only, is the highest plane of military greatness attained. Whether in natural insight Nelson fell short of Napoleon's measure need not here be considered; that he was at this time far inferior, in the powers of a trained intellect, to his younger competitor in the race for fame, is manifest by the readiness with which he accepted such widely ex-centric conjectures as that of an attempt by sea upon Leghorn at the opening of the campaign, and now upon Corsica by a great part, if not the whole, of the army of Italy.

"On the side of the French," says Jomini, speaking of Bonaparte at this very period, "was to be seen a young warrior, trained in the best schools, endowed with an ardent imagination, brought up upon the examples of antiquity, greedy of glory and of power, knowing thoroughly the Apennines, in which he had distinguished himself in 1794, and already measuring with a practised eye the distances he must overpass before becoming master of Italy. To these advantages for a war of invasion, Bonaparte united an inborn genius, and clearly established principles, the fruits of an enlightened theory."

Jomini doubtless may be considered somewhat too absolute and pedantic in his insistence upon definite formulation of principles; but in these words is nevertheless to be recognized the fundamental difference between these two great warriors, a difference by which the seaman was heavily handicapped in the opening of his career. As time passed on, responsibility, the best of educators, took under her firm and steady guidance the training of his yet undeveloped genius, gleams of which from time to time, but fitfully and erratically, illumine his earlier correspondence. The material was there from the first, but inchoate, ill-ordered, confused, and therefore not readily available to correct passing impressions, wild rumors, or even to prevent the radically false conceptions of an enemy's possible movements, such as we have had before us. Bonaparte, furthermore, whose career began amid the troubled scenes of a revolution which had shattered all the fetters of established custom,—so strong in England to impede a man's natural progress,—had enjoyed already for some time the singular advantage of being military adviser to the Directory, a duty which compelled him to take a broad view of all current conditions, to consider them in their mutual relations, and not narrowly to look to one sphere of operations, without due reference to its effects upon others.

As to the invasion of Corsica after the manner he had imagined, Nelson was soon undeceived. Bonaparte himself, after a hurried visit to Leghorn, again departed to press the siege of Mantua, having assured himself that for a measurable time he had nothing to apprehend from movements on his flank and rear. Orders were received from Jervis on the 2d of July to institute a commercial blockade of Leghorn, permitting no vessels to enter or depart. The conduct of this business, as well as the protection of British trade in that district, and the support of the Viceroy in securing Corsica against the attempts of French partisans, were especially intrusted to Nelson, whose movements during the following months, until the first of October, were consequently confined to the waters between Corsica and Tuscany, while the Riviera west of Genoa saw him no more. Leghorn became the chief centre of his activities. These redoubled with the demands made upon him; his energy rose equal to every call. A few weeks before, he had made a conditional application to the admiral, though with evident reluctance, for a short leave of absence on account of his health. "I don't much like what I have written," he confessed at the end of his diffident request, and some days later he again alludes to the subject. "My complaint is as if a girth was buckled taut over my breast, and my endeavours, in the night, is to get it loose. To say the truth, when I am actively employed, I am not so bad. If the Service will admit of it, perhaps I shall at a future day take your leave." The service now scarcely admitted it, and the active duty apparently restored his health; at all events we now hear no more of it. Everything yielded to the requirements of the war. "The Captain has wants, but I intend she shall last till the autumn: for I know, when once we begin, our wants are innumerable."

In his still limited sphere, and on all matters directly connected with it and his professional duties, his judgment was sound and acute, as his activity, energy, and zeal were untiring. The menace to Corsica from the fall of Leghorn was accurately weighed and considered. Midway between the two lay the since famous island of Elba, a dependence of Tuscany, so small as to be held readily by a few good troops, and having a port large enough, in Nelson's judgment, to harbor the British fleet with a little management. "The way to Corsica," he wrote to the Viceroy, "if our fleet is at hand, is through Elba; for if they once set foot on that island, it is not all our fleet can stop their passage to Corsica." The Viceroy took upon himself to direct that the island be occupied by the British. Nelson complied without waiting for Jervis's orders, and on the 10th of July a detachment of troops, convoyed by his squadron, were landed in the island, and took charge, without serious opposition, of the town of Porto Ferrajo and the works for the defence of the harbor. The measure was justified upon the ground that the seizure of Leghorn by the French showed that Tuscany was unable to assure Elba against a similar step, prejudicial to the British tenure in Corsica. The administration remained in the hands of the Tuscan officials, the British occupation being purely military, and confined to the places necessary for that purpose.

The blockade of Leghorn was enforced with the utmost rigor and great effectiveness. For a long time no vessels were allowed to go either out or in. Afterwards the rule was gradually relaxed, so far as to permit neutrals to leave the port in ballast; but none entered. The trade of the place was destroyed. Nelson hoped, and for a time expected, that the populace, accustomed to a thriving commerce, and drawing their livelihood from its employments, would rise against the feeble garrison, whose presence entailed upon them such calamities; but herein, of course, he underestimated the coercive power of a few resolute men, organized for mutual support, over a mob of individuals, incapable of combined action and each uncertain of the constancy of his fellows.

The Austrian preparations in the Tyrol gradually matured as the month of July wore on. Towards its end Marshal Wurmser, the successor of Beaulieu, advanced for the relief of Mantua and the discomfiture of Bonaparte, whose numbers were much inferior to his opponents. The projected movement was of course known to the British, and its first results in raising the siege of Mantua, and throwing reinforcements into the place, gave them great hopes. Amid the conflicting rumors of the succeeding days, the wonderful skill and success of Bonaparte, who overthrew in detail forces greatly superior in the aggregate to his own, escaped notice for the time; the superficial incidents of his abandoning his previous positions alone received attention, and nothing less than his retreat in confusion was confidently expected. Nelson, justly estimating the importance of Leghorn, and over-sanguine of the support he might hope from the inhabitants, projected a sudden assault upon the town, by troops to be drawn from the garrisons in Corsica, supported by seamen of the squadron. Speaking of the steady intercourse between, that island and the mainland by way of Leghorn, he says: "The only way is to cut at the root, for whilst Leghorn is open, this communication must constantly be going on. This moment brings to my eyes a body of about 200 men, with the Corsican flag carrying before them; they are partly from Nice, and joined by Genoese, &c., on the road. The time approaches," he rightly forecasts, "when we shall either have to fight them in Corsica or Leghorn." The imminence of the danger was evident. "Our affairs in Corsica are gloomy," he had already written to the Duke of Clarence. "There is a very strong republican party in that island, and they are well supported from France; the first favourable moment, they will certainly act against us."

The details of the intended assault upon Leghorn do not appear, and it is probable that they never passed beyond the stage of discussion to that of acceptance, although he alludes to the plans as "laid." Clear-sighted for the key of a situation, and ardent to strike "at the root," as five years later in the Baltic he was eager to cut away the Russian root of the Armed Neutrality, instead of hewing off the Danish branch, Nelson urged the speedy adoption of the measure, and pressed his own fitness to harmonize the land and sea forces under one command, in virtue of his rank as Colonel of Marines. "Leghorn is in such a state," he writes to Elliot on the 5th of August, "that a respectable force landed, would, I have every reason to suppose, insure the immediate possession of the town. Not less than a thousand troops should be sent, to which I will add every soldier in my squadron, and a party of seamen to make a show. In every way, pray consider this as private, and excuse my opinions. I well know the difficulty of getting a proper person to command this party. Firmness, and that the people of Leghorn should know the person commanding, will most assuredly have a great effect. A cordial co-operation with me (for vanity apart, no one is so much feared or respected in Leghorn as myself) is absolutely necessary. I am going further: we know the jealousy of the army against the navy, but I am by the King's commission a Colonel in the army from June 1st, 1795." After discussing this difficult question of professional susceptibilities, he concludes: "You will consider, Sir, all these points, and form a much better judgment than I can, only give me credit that the nearest wish of my heart is to serve my King and my Country, at every personal risk and consideration. It has ever pleased God to prosper all my undertakings, and I feel confident of His blessing on this occasion. I ever consider my motto, Fides et Opera."[38]

Having, with true strategic insight, chosen the place where the blow ought to be struck for the preservation of Corsica, he pressed, with characteristic fervor, the necessity of taking risks. He discusses details indeed; he proposes no mere adventure, real as was his personal enjoyment of danger and action. What man can do, shall be done; but being done, still "something must be left to chance. Our only consideration, is the honour and benefit to our Country worth the risk? If it is (and I think so), in God's name let us get to work, and hope for His blessing on our endeavours to liberate a people who have been our sincere friends." Hearing at the same time that an army officer of general rank will have the command instead of himself, he adds: "Pray assure him there is nothing I feel greater pleasure in than hearing he is to command. Assure him of my most sincere wishes for his speedy success, and that he shall have every support and assistance from me." Truly, in generosity as in ardor, Nelson was, to use the fine old phrase, "all for the service."

The project upon Leghorn had the approval of the Viceroy and of Jervis; but the latter, while expressing perfect reliance upon "the promptitude of Commodore Nelson," was clear that the attempt must depend upon the contimied advance of the Austrians. This was also Nelson's own view. "All will be well, I am satisfied, provided Wurmser is victorious; upon this ground only have I adopted the measure." This qualification redeems the plan from the reproach of rashness, which otherwise might have been applied to the somewhat desperate undertaking of carrying a fortified town by such a feat of hardihood. It loses thus the color of recklessness, and falls into place as one part of a great common action, to harass the retreat of a beaten enemy, and to insure the security of one's own positions.

On the 15th of August, when the above words were written, Nelson was still ignorant of the Austrian defeats at Lonato and Castiglione, nearly two weeks before, and of their subsequent retreat to the Tyrol. A rumor of the reverse had reached him through Florence, but he gave it little attention, as the French in Leghorn were not claiming a victory. On the 19th he knew it definitely, and had to abandon the expectation, confided to his brother, that the next letter seen from him would be in the "Public Gazette." "An expedition is thought of, and of course I shall be there, for most of these services fall to my lot." "One day or other," he had written to his wife, apparently with this very enterprise in mind, "I will have a long Gazette to myself; I feel that such an opportunity will be given me. I cannot," he continued with prophetic self-reliance, "if I am in the field of glory, be kept out of sight."

During the remainder of the month he continued to be amused with those unfounded reports of victories, which are among the invariable concomitants of all wars, and which his sanguine temperament and peculiar readiness to trust others made him especially ready to accept. He was not wholly unaware of this tendency in himself, though he continued to repeat with apparent belief reports of the most startling and erroneous character, and never seems to have appreciated, up to the time of his leaving the Mediterranean, the astonishing quickness and sagacity with which Bonaparte frustrated the overwhelming combinations against him. "We hear what we wish," he says on one occasion. "The Toulon information is, as I always thought it, pleasant to know but never to be depended upon; all is guess. I have long had reason to suspect great part is fabricated in Genoa;" but he was continually deceived by it.

Throughout the discomfitures of the Austrians on shore, the purely naval part of the war continued to be successfully maintained. Jervis, with unrelaxing grip, kept his position before Toulon, effectually checking every attempt of the French fleet to escape unobserved into the open, while Nelson shut up Leghorn so rigorously that the enemy lost even the partial advantage, as a port of supply, which they had before drawn from its neutrality. But, during this pregnant summer, grave causes for anxiety were rolling up in the western basin of the Mediterranean. The attitude of Spain had long been doubtful, so much so that before Sir John Jervis left England, in the previous autumn, the ministry had deliberated upon the contingency of her declaring war, and a conditional decision had been reached to evacuate Corsica, if that event occurred. During the spring of 1796 reports of coming hostilities were current in the fleet. Nelson's first opinion was that, if they ensued, there was no object in remaining in the Mediterranean, except to preserve Corsica from the French. This, he thought, was not a sufficient motive, nor had the conduct of the natives entitled them to protection. With all the powers making peace with France, he hoped Great Britain would leave the Mediterranean. This, however, was but a passing expression of discouragement, whence he soon rallied, and, with a spirit worthy of his race, which was soon to face all Europe undismayed, his courage mounted continually as the storm drew nearer.

The summer of 1796 was in truth the period of transition, when the victories of Bonaparte, by bringing near a cessation of warfare upon the land, were sweeping from the scene the accessories that confused the view of the future, removing conditions and details which perplexed men's attention, and bringing into clear relief the one field upon which the contest was finally to be fought out, and the one foe, the British sea-power, upon whose strength and constancy would hinge the issues of the struggle. The British Navy, in the slight person of its indomitable champion, was gradually rising to the appreciation of its own might, and gathering together its energies to endure single-handed the gigantic strife, with a spirit unequalled in its past history, glorious as that had often been. From 1796 began the rapid ascent to that short noontide of unparalleled brilliancy, in which Nelson's fame outshone all others, and which may be said to have begun with the Spanish declaration of war, succeeded though that was by the retreat in apparent discomfiture from the Mediterranean, now at hand.

The approach of this extraordinary outburst of maritime vigor is aptly foretokened in the complete change, gradual yet rapid, that passed over Nelson's opinions, from the time when rumors of a Spanish war first assumed probability, up to the moment when the fact became tangible by the appearance of the Spanish fleet in the waters of Corsica. Accentuated thus in a man of singular perceptions and heroic instincts, it further affords an interesting illustration of the manner in which a combative race—for Nelson was through and through a child of his people—however at first averse to war, from motives of well-understood interest, gradually warms to the idea, and finally grows even to welcome the fierce joy which warriors feel, as the clash of arms draws near. "If all the states of Italy make peace," he writes on the 20th of May, "we have nothing to look to but Corsica; which in the present state of the inhabitants, is not, in my opinion, an object to keep us in the Mediterranean: we shall, I hope, quit it, and employ our fleet more to our advantage." "Reports here," on the 20th of June, "are full of a Spanish war. If that should be the case, we shall probably draw towards Gibraltar and receive large reinforcements."

On the 15th of August, however, he writes to Jervis, betraying the incipient revulsion, as yet not realized, against abandoning the Mediterranean, which was already affecting the current of his thoughts. "I hope we shall have settled Leghorn before the Dons, if they intend it, arrive. I have still my doubts as to a Spanish war; and if there should be one, with your management I have no fears. Should the Dons come, I shall then hope I may be spared,[39] in my own person, to help to make you at least a Viscount." A few days later, having meantime heard of Wurmser's disasters at Castiglione: "Austria, I suppose, must make peace, and we shall, as usual, be left to fight it out: however, at the worst, we only give up Corsica, an acquisition which I believe we cannot keep, and our fleet will draw down the Mediterranean;" but at the same time, August 19, he writes to the Duke of Clarence with glowing hopes and rising pride: "I hope Government will not be alarmed for our safety—I mean more than is proper. Under such a commander-in-chief as Sir John Jervis nobody has any fears. We are now twenty-two sail of the line; the combined fleet will not be above thirty-five sail of the line. I will venture my life Sir John Jervis defeats them. This country is the most favourable possible for skill with an inferior fleet; for the winds are so variable, that some one time in twenty-four hours you must be able to attack a part of a large fleet, and the other will be becalmed, or have a contrary wind." That the Duke trembled and demurred to such odds is not wonderful; but the words have singular interest, both as showing the clear tactical apprehensions that held sway in Nelson's mind, and still more, at the moment then present, as marking unmistakably his gradual conversion to the policy of remaining in the Mediterranean, and pursuing the most vigorous aggressive measures.

A fortnight after this letter was written, Genoa, under pressure from Bonaparte, closed her ports against British ships, interdicting even the embarkation of a drove of cattle, already purchased, and ready for shipment to the fleet off Toulon. Nelson immediately went there to make inquiries, and induce a revocation of the orders. While the "Captain" lay at anchor in the roads, three of the crew deserted, and when her boats were sent to search for them they were fired upon by a French battery, established near the town. Nelson, in retaliation, seized a French supply ship from under the guns of the battery, whereupon the Genoese forts opened against the "Captain," which had meantime got under way and was lying-to off the city. Nelson did not return the fire of the latter, which was kept up for two hours, but threw three shot into the French battery, "to mark," as he said, the power of the English to bombard the town, and their humanity in not destroying the houses and innocent Genoese inhabitants. In the communications which followed under a flag of truce, Nelson was informed, verbally, that all the ports of the Republic were closed against Great Britain. This stand, and the firing on the ship, being considered acts of hostility, the little island of Capraia, between Corsica and Genoa, and belonging to the latter, was seized by Nelson, acting under the counsel of the Viceroy of Corsica. This was done both as a retaliatory measure, and to put a stop to the use which French privateers and parties of Corsicans had hitherto made of it, under cover of Genoese neutrality.

As Jervis was already under apprehension of an outbreak of scurvy in the fleet, consequent upon the failure of supplies of live cattle following the French occupation of Leghorn, the closure of the Genoese ports was a severe blow. It was, however, but one among several incidents, occurring nearly simultaneously, which increased his embarrassments, and indicated the close approach of the long-muttering storm. To use his own words, "The lowering aspect of Spain, with the advanced state of the equipment of the French fleet in Toulon," impelled him to concentrate his force. Rear-Admiral Man, who had been blockading Cadiz since his detachment there by Hotham, in October, 1795, was ordered up to the main fleet. Swayed by fears very unlike to Nelson's proud confidence in his admiral and his service, he acted with such precipitation as to leave Gibraltar without filling with provisions, and arrived so destitute that Jervis had to send him back at once, with orders to replenish with stores and then to rejoin without delay. Under the influence of the panic which prevailed at Gibraltar, Man had also sent such advices to the coast of Portugal as caused the commander-in-chief to fear that expected supplies might be arrested. "Oh, our convoy!" cried Nelson; "Admiral Man, how could you quit Gibraltar?" Yet, as he wrote to Jervis, he had expected some such step, from what he had already seen "under his hand to you."

Thus, for the time at least, there were lost to the British seven of the ships-of-the-line upon which Nelson had reckoned in his letter to the Duke of Clarence. It was possibly on this account that Jervis wrote him to shift his commodore's pendant to a frigate, and send the "Captain" to the fleet. Nelson obeyed, of course, and at once; but taking advantage of the fact that no captain had yet joined his ship, he thought it "advisable to go in her myself." In this he doubtless was influenced chiefly by his unwillingness to miss a battle, especially against such great numerical odds. "I take for granted," he admitted to the Viceroy, "that the admiral will send me back in a cutter, but I shall give him a good ordered seventy-four, and take my chance of helping to thrash Don Langara, than which few things, I assure you, would give me more real pleasure." The particular emergency seems, however, soon to have passed; for after two days with the fleet he returned off Leghorn in the "Captain," somewhat comforted as to the apprehensions of the British Cabinet. "Whatever fears we may have for Corsica, it is certain Government at home have none, by taking so very respectable a part of your force away." A regiment had been transferred to Gibraltar with Man's squadron, when the latter returned there.

These rising hopes and stirring expectations of brilliant service were speedily dashed. On the 25th of September Jervis received orders from the Admiralty to abandon Corsica, to retreat from the Mediterranean, and to proceed with the fleet to England. In pursuance of these instructions Nelson was directed to superintend the evacuation of Bastia, the "most secret" letter to that effect reaching him at that port on the 29th of September,—his birthday. The purpose of the ministry filled him with shame and indignation. Confronted abruptly with the course which four months before had seemed to him natural and proper, the shock brought out the fulness of the change through which he had passed meantime. He has no illusions about Corsica. The inhabitants had disappointed all the expectations of the British,—"At a peace I should rejoice at having given up the island." But the days passing over his head had brought wider and maturer views of the general policy of Great Britain, as well as increasing faith in the powers of the fleet, vigorously used in aggressive warfare. "Whilst we can keep the combined fleet in the Mediterranean [by our own presence], so much the more advantageous to us; and the moment we retire, the whole of Italy is given to the French. If the Dons detach their fleet out of the Mediterranean, we can do the same—however, that is distant. Be the successes of the Austrians on the other hand what they may, their whole supply of stores and provisions comes from Trieste, across the Adriatic to the Po, and when this is cut off [as by our uncovering the sea it must be], they must retire." Above all he grieves for Naples. If a weak and vacillating ally, there was no doubt her heart was with them. "I feel more than all for Naples. The King of Naples is a greater sacrifice than Corsica. If he has been induced to keep off the peace, and perhaps engaged in the war again by the expectation of the continuance of the fleet in the Mediterranean, hard indeed is his fate; his kingdom must inevitably be ruined." In the impression now made upon him, may perhaps be seen one cause of Nelson's somewhat extravagant affection in after days for the royal family of Naples, independent of any influence exerted upon him by Lady Hamilton.

With these broad views of the general strategic situation, which are unquestionably far in advance of the comparatively narrow and vague conceptions of a year, or even six months before, and doubtless indicate the results of independent command and responsibility, acting upon powers of a high order, he at the same time shows his keen appreciation of the value of the organized force, whose movements, properly handled, should dominate the other conditions. "When Man arrives, who is ordered to come up, we shall be twenty-two sail of such ships as England hardly ever produced, and commanded by an admiral who will not fail to look the enemy in the face, be their force what it may: I suppose it will not be more than thirty-four of the line. There is not a seaman in the fleet who does not feel confident of success." "The fleets of England," he says again, "are equal to meet the world in arms; and of all fleets I ever saw, I never beheld one in point of officers and men equal to Sir John Jervis's, who is a commander-in-chief able to lead them to glory."

Reasoning so clearly and accurately upon the importance to Great Britain's interests and honor, at that time, of maintaining her position in the Mediterranean, and upon the power of her fleet in battle, it is not strange that Nelson, writing in intimate confidence to his wife, summed up in bitter words his feelings upon the occasion; unconscious, apparently, of the great change they indicated, not merely in his opinions, but in his power of grasping, in well-ordered and rational sequence, the great outlines of the conditions amid which he, as an officer, was acting. "We are all preparing to leave the Mediterranean, a measure which I cannot approve. They at home do not know what this fleet is capable of performing; anything, and everything. Much as I shall rejoice to see England, I lament our present orders in sackcloth and ashes, so dishonourable to the dignity of England." To the British minister at Naples his words were even stronger: "Till this time it has been usual for the allies of England to fall from her, but till now she never was known to desert her friends whilst she had the power of supporting them. I yet hope the Cabinet may, on more information, change their opinion; it is not all we gain elsewhere which can compensate for our loss of honour. The whole face of affairs is totally different to what it was when the Cabinet formed their opinion."

Nevertheless, although Nelson's perceptions and reasoning were accurate as far as they went, they erred in leaving out of the calculation a most important consideration,—the maintenance of the communications with England, which had assumed vital importance since the general defection of the Italian States, caused by Bonaparte's successes and his imperious demands. It would be more true to say that he underestimated this factor than that he overlooked it; for he had himself observed, six weeks earlier, when the approach of a Spanish war first became certain: "I really think they would do us more damage by getting off Cape Finisterre;[40] it is there I fear them," and the reason for that fear is shown by his reproach against Man, already quoted, for his neglect of the convoy. The position of the Spanish Navy in its home ports was in fact intermediate—interior—as regarded the British fleet and the source of its most essential supplies. So long as its future direction remained uncertain, it lay upon the flank of the principal British line of communications. Nelson did not use, perhaps did not know, the now familiar terms of the military art; and, with all his insight and comprehensive sagacity, he suffered from the want of proper tools with which to transmute his acute intuitions into precise thought, as well as of clearly enunciated principles, which serve to guide a man's conclusions, and would assuredly have qualified his in the present instance. Upon the supposition that the Spanish Navy, practically in its entirety, entered the Mediterranean and appeared off Corsica,—as it did,—Nelson's reasoning was correct, and his chagrin at a retreat justified; but, as he himself had wisely remarked to Beaulieu, it is not safe to count upon your enemy pursuing the course you wish. Had the Spanish Government chosen the other alternative open to it, and struck at the communications, such a blow, or even such a threat, must have compelled the withdrawal of the fleet, unless some other base of supplies could be found. The straitness of the situation is shown by the fact that Jervis, after he had held on to the last moment in San Fiorenzo Bay, sailed for Gibraltar with such scanty provisions that the crews' daily rations were reduced to one-third the ordinary amount; in fact, as early as the first of October they had been cut down to two-thirds. Whether, therefore, the Government was right in ordering the withdrawal, or Nelson in his condemnation of it, may be left to the decision of those fortunate persons who can be cocksure of the true solution of other people's perplexities.

In evacuating the Mediterranean, Jervis determined, upon his own responsibility, to retain Elba, if the troops, which were not under his command, would remain there. This was accordingly done; a strong garrison, adequately provisioned, thus keeping for Great Britain a foothold within the sea, at a time when she had lost Minorca and did not yet possess Malta. Nelson hoped that this step would encourage the Two Sicilies to stand firm against the French; but, however valuable Elba would be to the fleet as a base, if held until its return, it was useless to protect Naples in the absence of the fleet, and upon the news of the latter's proposed retirement that Kingdom at once made peace.

After the receipt of his orders for the evacuation of Bastia, and pending the assembling of the transports, Nelson was despatched by the admiral to Genoa, to present reclamations for injuries alleged to have been done to Great Britain, and to propose terms of accommodation. The little Republic, however, under the coercive influence of Bonaparte's continued success, was no longer in doubt as to the side which policy dictated her to take, between the two belligerents who vexed her borders. During this visit of Nelson's, on the 9th of October, she signed a treaty with France, stipulating, besides the closure of the ports against Great Britain, the payment of a sum of money, and free passage to troops and supplies for the army of Italy. Thus was Genoa converted formally, as she for some time had been actually, into a French base of operations. Returning from this fruitless mission, Nelson rejoined the commander-in-chief on the 13th of October, at San Fiorenzo, and the same afternoon left again for Bastia, where he arrived the following day.

During the fortnight intervening since he left the place, the fact that the Spanish fleet was on its way to Corsica had become known, and the French partisans in the island were proportionately active. It was impossible for the British to go into the interior; their friends, if not in a minority, were effectually awed by the preponderance of their enemies, on land and sea. Nelson, wishing to cross overland to San Fiorenzo to visit Jervis, was assured he could not do so with safety. In Bastia itself the municipality had wrested the authority from the Viceroy, and consigned the administration to a Committee of Thirty. The ships of war and transports being blown to sea, the inhabitants became still more aggressive; for, foreseeing the return of the French, they were naturally eager to propitiate their future masters by a display of zeal. British property was sequestered, and shipping not permitted to leave the mole.

Nelson was persuaded that only the arrival of the ships accompanying him saved the place. Except a guard at the Viceroy's house, the British troops had been withdrawn to the citadel. Even there, at the gates of the citadel, and within it, Corsican guards were present in numbers equal to the British, while the posts in the towns were all held by them. Arriving at early dawn of the 14th, Nelson at once visited the general and the Viceroy. The former saw no hope, under the conditions, of saving either stores, cannon, or provisions. "The Army," said Nelson in a private letter to Jervis, with something of the prejudiced chaff of a seaman of that day, "is, as usual, well dressed and powdered. I hope the general will join me cordially, but, as you well know, great exertions belong exclusively to the Navy." After the evacuation, however, he admitted handsomely that it was impossible to "do justice to the good dispositions of the general."

Between the heads of the two services such arrangements were perfected as enabled almost everything in the way of British property—public and private—to be brought away. By midday the ships, of which three were of the line, were anchored close to the mole-head, abreast the town, and the municipality was notified that any opposition to the removal of the vessels and stores would be followed by instant bombardment. Everything yielded to the threat, made by a man whose determined character left no doubt that it would be carried into execution. "Nothing shall be left undone that ought to be done," he wrote to Jervis, "even should it be necessary to knock down Bastia." From time to time interference was attempted, but the demand for immediate desistence, made, watch in hand, by the naval officer on the spot, enforced submission. "The firm tone held by Commodore Nelson," wrote Jervis to the Admiralty, "soon reduced these gentlemen to order, and quiet submission to the embarkation." Owing to the anarchy prevailing, the Viceroy was persuaded to go on board before nightfall, he being too valuable as a hostage to be exposed to possible kidnappers.

On the 18th of October a large number of armed French landed at Cape Corso, and approached the town. On the 19th they sent to the municipality a demand that the British should not be permitted to embark. Under these circumstances even Nelson felt that nothing more could be saved. The work of removal was continued actively until sunset, by which time two hundred thousand pounds worth of cannon, stores, and provisions had been taken on board. At midnight the troops evacuated the citadel, and marched to the north end of the town, where they embarked—twenty-four hours ahead of the time upon which Nelson had reckoned four days before. It was then blowing a strong gale of wind. Last of all, about six o'clock on the morning of the 20th, Nelson and the general entered a barge, every other man being by that time afloat, and were pulled off to the ships, taking with them two field-guns, until then kept ashore to repel a possible attack at the last moment. The French, who "were in one end of Bastia before we quitted the other," had occupied the citadel since one in the morning, and the Spanish fleet, of over twenty sail-of-the-line, which had already arrived, was even then off Cape Corso, about sixty miles distant; but the little British squadron, sailing promptly with a fair wind, in a few hours reached Elba, where every vessel was safely at anchor before night. On the 24th Nelson joined the commander-in-chief in Martello Bay, the outer anchorage of San Fiorenzo. Everything was then afloat, and ready for a start as soon as the transports, still at Elba, should arrive. The evacuation of Corsica was complete, though the ships remained another week in its waters.

The Spanish fleet continued cruising to the northward of the island, and was every day sighted by the British lookout frigates. Jervis held grimly on, expecting the appearance of the seven ships of Admiral Man, who had been ordered to rejoin him. That officer, however, acting on his own responsibility, weakly buttressed by the opinion of a council of his captains, had returned to England contrary to his instructions. The commander-in-chief, ignorant of this step, was left in the sorely perplexing situation of having his fleet divided into two parts, each distinctly inferior to the Spanish force alone, of twenty-six ships, not to speak of the French in Toulon. Under the conditions, the only thing that could be done was to await his subordinate, in the appointed spot, until the last moment. By the 2d of November further delay had become impossible, from the approaching failure of provisions. On that day, therefore, the fleet weighed, and after a tedious passage anchored on the first of December at Gibraltar. There Nelson remained until the 10th of the month, when he temporarily quitted the "Captain," hoisted his broad pendant on board the frigate "Minerve," and, taking with him one frigate besides, returned into the Mediterranean upon a detached mission of importance.

Nelson's last services in Corsica were associated with the momentary general collapse of the British operations and influence in the Mediterranean; and his final duty, by a curious coincidence, was to abandon the position which he more than any other man had been instrumental in securing. Yet, amid these discouraging circumstances, his renown had been steadily growing throughout the year 1796, which may justly be looked upon as closing the first stage in the history of British Sea Power during the wars of the French Revolution, and as clearing the way for his own great career, which in the repossession of the Mediterranean reached its highest plane, and there continued in unabated glory till the hour of his death. It was not merely the exceptional brilliancy of his deeds at Cape St. Vincent, now soon to follow, great and distinguished as those were, which designated him to men in power as beyond dispute the coming chief of the British Navy; it was the long antecedent period of unswerving continuance in strenuous action, allowing no flagging of earnestness for a moment to appear, no chance for service, however small or distant, to pass unimproved. It was the same unremitting pressing forward, which had brought him so vividly to the front in the abortive fleet actions of the previous year,—an impulse born, partly, of native eagerness for fame, partly of zeal for the interests of his country and his profession. "Mine is all honour; so much for the Navy!" as he wrote, somewhat incoherently, to his brother, alluding to a disappointment about prize money.

Nelson himself had an abundant, but not an exaggerated, consciousness of this increase of reputation; and he knew, too, that he was but reaping as he had diligently sowed. "If credit and honour in the service are desirable," he tells his brother, "I have my full share. I have never lost an opportunity of distinguishing myself, not only as a gallant man, but as having a head; for, of the numerous plans I have laid, not one has failed." "You will be informed from my late letters," he writes to his wife, "that Sir John Jervis has such an opinion of my conduct, that he is using every influence, both public and private, with Lord Spencer, for my continuance on this station; and I am certain you must feel the superior pleasure of knowing, that my integrity and plainness of conduct are the cause of my being kept from you, to the receiving me as a person whom no commander-in-chief would wish to keep under his flag. Sir John was a perfect stranger to me, therefore I feel the more flattered; and when I reflect that I have had the unbounded confidence of three commanders-in-chief, I cannot but feel a conscious pride, and that I possess abilities." "If my character is known," he writes to the Genoese Government, which knew it well, "it will be credited that this blockade [of Leghorn] will be attended to with a degree of rigour unexampled in the present war." "It has pleased God this war," he tells the Duke of Clarence, "not only to give me frequent opportunities of showing myself an officer worthy of trust, but also to prosper all my undertakings in the highest degree. I have had the extreme good fortune, not only to be noticed in my immediate line of duty, but also to obtain the repeated approbation of His Majesty's Ministers at Turin, Genoa, and Naples, as well as of the Viceroy of Corsica, for my conduct in the various opinions I have been called upon to give; and my judgment being formed from common sense, I have never yet been mistaken."

Already at times his consciousness of distinction among men betrays something of that childlike, delighted vanity, half unwitting, which was afterward forced into exuberant growth and distasteful prominence, by the tawdry flatteries of Lady Hamilton and the Court of Naples. Now, expressed to one who had a right to all his confidence and to share all his honors, it challenges rather the sympathy than the criticism of the reader. "I will relate another anecdote, all vanity to myself, but you will partake of it: A person sent me a letter, and directed as follows, 'Horatio Nelson, Genoa.' On being asked how he could direct in such a manner, his answer, in a large party, was, 'Sir, there is but one Horatio Nelson in the world.' I am known throughout Italy," he continues; "not a Kingdom, or State, where my name will be forgotten. This is my Gazette. Probably my services may be forgotten by the great, by the time I get home; but my mind will not forget, nor cease to feel, a degree of consolation and of applause superior to undeserved rewards. Wherever there is anything to be done, there Providence is sure to direct my steps. Credit must be given me in spite of envy. Had all my actions been gazetted, not one fortnight would have passed during the whole war without a letter from me. Even the French respect me." After the conclusion of the campaign, when on the way to Gibraltar, he tells her again: "Do not flatter yourself that I shall be rewarded; I expect nothing, and therefore shall not be disappointed: the pleasure of my own mind will be my reward. I am more interested, and feel a greater satisfaction, in obtaining yours and my father's applause than that of all the world besides." The wholesome balance between self-respect and a laudable desire for the esteem of men was plainly unimpaired.

Though devoid of conspicuous events, the year 1796, from the opening of the campaign, early in April, up to the evacuation of the Mediterranean, had been to Nelson one of constant and engrossing occupation. There is therefore little mention by him of his private affairs and feelings. In the home correspondence there is no diminution in the calm tenderness of affection always shown by him towards his wife and father, who continued to live together; rather, perhaps, the expressions to Mrs. Nelson are more demonstrative than before, possibly because letters were less frequent. But there is nothing thrilling in the "assurance of my unabated and steady affection, which, if possible, is increasing by that propriety of conduct which you pursue." He is clearly satisfied to remain away; the path of honor has no rival in his heart; there is no suggestion of an inward struggle between two masters, no feeling of aloneness, no petulant discontent with uneasy surroundings, or longing for the presence of an absent mistress. The quiet English home, the "little but neat cottage," attracts, indeed, with its sense of repose,—"I shall not be very sorry to see England again. I am grown old and battered to pieces, and require some repairs "—but the magnet fails to deflect the needle; not even a perceptible vibration of the will is produced.

Yet, while thus engrossed in the war, eager for personal distinction and for the military honor of his country, he apparently sees in it little object beyond a mere struggle for superiority, and has no conception of the broader and deeper issues at stake, the recognition of which intensified and sustained the resolution of the peace-loving minister, who then directed the policy of Great Britain. Of this he himself gives the proof in a curious anecdote. An Algerine official visiting the "Captain" off Leghorn, Nelson asked him why the Dey would not make peace with the Genoese and Neapolitans, for they would pay well for immunity, as the Americans at that period always did. His answer was: "If we make peace with every one, what is the Dey to do with his ships?" "What a reason for carrying on a naval war!" said Nelson, when writing the story to Jervis; "but has our minister a better one for the present?" Jervis, a traditional Whig, and opposed in Parliament to the war, probably sympathized with this view, and in any case the incident shows the close confidence existing between the two officers; but it also indicates how narrowly Nelson's genius and unquestionable acuteness cL intellect confined themselves, at that time, to the sphere in which he was visibly acting. In this he presents a marked contrast to Bonaparte, whose restless intelligence and impetuous imagination reached out in many directions, and surveyed from a lofty height the bearing of all things, far and near, upon the destinies of France.

FOOTNOTES:

[35] This indicates no opinion as to the fortune of the military operations in England, a landing once effected. It has, however, seemed to the author singular that men fail to consider that Napoleon would not have hesitated to abandon an army in England, as he did in Egypt and in Russia. A few hours' fog or calm, and a quick-pulling boat, would have landed himself again in France; while the loss of 150,000 men, if it came to that, would have been cheaply bought with the damage such an organized force could have done London and the dockyards, not to speak of the moral effect.

[36] Naval Chronicle, vol. xxi. p. 60.

[37] An account of this disaster, said to be that of an eye-witness, is to be found in Colburn's United Service Journal, 1846, part i.

[38] This motto was subsequently adopted by Nelson, when arms were assigned to him as a Knight of the Bath, in May, 1797.

[39] That is, apparently, from detached service, and ordered to the main fleet.

[40] On the northwest coast of Spain, at the entrance of the Bay of Biscay, and therefore right in the track of vessels from the Channel to the Straits of Gibraltar.



CHAPTER VIII.

THE EVACUATION OF ELBA.—NIGHT COMBAT WITH TWO SPANISH FRIGATES.—BATTLE OF CAPE ST. VINCENT.—NELSON PROMOTED TO REAR-ADMIRAL.—SERVICES BEFORE CADIZ.

DECEMBER, 1796-JUNE, 1797. AGE, 38.

"When we quitted Toulon," wrote Nelson to his old captain, Locker, while on the passage to Gibraltar, "I remember we endeavoured to reconcile ourselves to Corsica; now we are content with Elba—such things are." Even this small foothold was next to be resigned. Upon reaching Gibraltar, Jervis received orders from the Admiralty to evacuate the island.

This was the duty upon which Nelson was so soon despatched again to the Mediterranean. Though "most important," wrote he to his wife, "it is not a fighting mission, therefore be not uneasy." The assurance was doubtless honestly given, but scarcely to be implicitly accepted in view of his past career. Leaving the admiral on the evening of December 14, with the frigates "Blanche" and "Minerve," his commodore's pendant flying in the latter, the two vessels, about 11 p.m. of the 19th, encountered two Spanish frigates close to Cartagena. The enemies pairing off, a double action ensued, which, in the case of the "Minerve," ended in the surrender of her opponent, "La Sabina," at half-past one in the morning. Throwing a prize-crew on board, the British ship took her late antagonist in tow and stood away to the southeast. At half-past three another Spanish frigate came up, and, in order to meet this fresh enemy on fairly equal terms, the "Minerve" had to drop her prize. The second fight began at 4.30, and lasted half an hour, when the Spaniard hauled off. With daylight appeared also two hostile ships-of-the-line, which had been chasing towards the sound of the guns. These had already been seen by the "Blanche," which was by them prevented from taking possession of her antagonist, after the latter struck. The pursuit lasted through the day, the "Minerve" being hard pressed in consequence of the injuries received by all her masts during the engagement; but both British frigates succeeded in shaking off their pursuers. "La Sabina" was recaptured; she had already lost one mast, and the remaining two were seen to go over the side as she was bringing-to, when the enemy overtook her. It is interesting to note that her captain, Don Jacobo Stuart, was descended from the British royal house of Stuart. He, with many of his crew, had been transferred to the "Minerve," and remained prisoners.

Nelson reached Porto Ferrajo a week later, on the 26th of December. "On my arrival here," wrote he to his brother, "it was a ball night, and being attended by the captains, I was received in due form by the General, and one particular tune was played:[41] the second was 'Rule Britannia.' From Italy I am loaded with compliments." Having regard to comparative strength, the action was in all respects most creditable, but it received additional lustre from being fought close to the enemy's coast, and in full view of a force so superior as that from which escape had been handsomely made, under conditions requiring both steadiness and skill. Though on a small scale, no such fair stand-up fight had been won in the Mediterranean during the war, and the resultant exultation was heightened by its contrast with the general depression then weighing upon the British cause. Especially keen and warmly expressed was the satisfaction of the veteran commander-in-chief at Lisbon, who first learned the success of his valued subordinate through Spanish sources. "I cannot express to you, and Captain Cockburn, the feelings I underwent on the receipt of the enclosed bulletin, the truth of which I cannot doubt, as far as relates to your glorious achievement in the capture of the Sabina, and dignified retreat from the line-of-battle ship, which deprived you of your well-earned trophy; your laurels were not then within their grasp, and can never fade."

General De Burgh, who commanded the troops in Elba, had received no instructions to quit the island, and felt uncertain about his course, in view of the navy's approaching departure. Nelson's orders were perfectly clear, but applied only to the naval establishment. He recognized the general's difficulty, though he seems to have thought that, under all the circumstances, he might very well have acted upon his own expressed opinion, that "the signing of a Neapolitan peace with France ought to be our signal for departure." "The army," wrote Nelson to the First Lord of the Admiralty, "are not so often called upon to exercise their judgment in political measures as we are; therefore the general feels a certain diffidence." He told De Burgh that, the King of Naples having made peace, Jervis considered his business with the courts of Italy as terminated; that the Admiralty's orders were to concentrate the effort of the fleet upon preventing the allied fleets from quitting the Mediterranean, and upon the defence of Portugal, invaluable to the British as a base of naval operations. For these reasons, even if he had to leave the land forces in Elba, he should have no hesitation in following his instructions, which were to withdraw all naval belongings. "I have sent to collect my squadron, and as soon as they arrive, I shall offer myself for embarking the troops, stores, &c.; and should you decline quitting this post, I shall proceed down the Mediterranean with such ships of war as are not absolutely wanted for keeping open the communication of Elba with the Continent."

The necessary preparations went on apace. Vessels were sent out to summon the scattered cruisers to the port. A frigate was despatched to Naples to bring back Sir Gilbert Elliot, the late Viceroy of Corsica, who, since the abandonment of the latter island, had been on a diplomatic visit to Rome and Naples. It is to this incident that we owe the fullest account transmitted of the Battle of Cape St. Vincent; the narrator, Colonel Drinkwater, being then a member of the Viceroy's suite, and attending him upon his return with Nelson's squadron. The Spanish prisoners were sent to Cartagena in a cartel, Nelson restoring to the captain of the "Sabina" the sword which he had surrendered. "I felt this consonant to the dignity of my Country, and I always act as I feel right, without regard to custom." By the 16th of January all the naval establishment was embarked, ready for departure, though some of the ships of war had not yet returned, nor had the Viceroy arrived. The delay allowed the "Minerve" to be completely refitted, two of her masts and most of her rigging having to be renewed.

When Elliot came, it was decided in a consultation between him, Nelson, and De Burgh, that the troops should remain. The transports had been completely victualled, and so prepared that every soldier could be embarked in three days. With them were left two frigates and a few smaller ships of war. On the 29th of January, Nelson sailed with the rest of his force and the convoy, divided into three sections, which proceeded for the Straits by different routes, to diminish the chances of total loss by capture. Nelson himself, with another frigate, the "Romulus," in company, intended to make a round of the enemy's ports, in order to bring the admiral the latest information of the number of ships in each, and their state of preparation. "I hope to arrive safe in Lisbon with my charge," he wrote to his wife on the eve of sailing, "but in war much is left to Providence: however, as I have hitherto been most successful, confidence tells me I shall not fail: and as nothing will be left undone by me, should I not always succeed, my mind will not suffer; nor will the world, I trust, be willing to attach blame, where my heart tells me none would be due." The habit of taking risks had wrought its beneficial influence upon mind and temper, when he thus calmly and simply reasoned from the experience of the past to the prospective fortnight, to be passed in sight of a hostile coast, and in waters where he could meet no friendly sail. "It has ever pleased Almighty God to give his blessing to my endeavours," was his New Year greeting to his father at this time.

During this month in Elba a slight political reference shows how his views and purpose were changing with the rapidly shifting political scene. In this hour of deepening adversity he no longer looks for peace, nor seeks the reason for the current war, which a few months before he had failed to find. "As to peace, I do not expect it; Lord Malmesbury will come back as he went. But the people of England will, I trust, be more vigorous for the prosecution of the war, which can alone insure an honourable peace."

The "Minerve" and the "Romulus" looked first into the old British anchorage in San Fiorenzo Bay, which was found deserted. Standing thence to Toulon, they remained forty-eight hours off that port, in which were to be seen no ships in condition for sailing. From there they passed off Barcelona, showing French colors, but without succeeding in drawing out any vessel there lying. The wind not being fair for Minorca, where Nelson had purposed to reconnoitre Port Mahon, the frigates next went to Cartagena, and ascertained that the great Spanish fleet was certainly not there. As Toulon also had been found empty, it seemed clear that it had gone to the westward, the more so as the most probable information indicated that the naval enterprises of the French and their allies at that time were to be outside of the Mediterranean. Nelson therefore pushed ahead, and on the 9th of February the "Minerve" and "Romulus" anchored in Gibraltar. All three divisions from Elba passed the Straits within the same forty-eight hours.

The Spanish grand fleet had been seen from the Rock, four days before, standing to the westward into the Atlantic. Two ships-of-the-line and a frigate had been detached from it, with supplies for the Spanish lines before Gibraltar, and had anchored at the head of the bay, where they still were when Nelson arrived. On board them had also been sent the two British lieutenants and the seamen, who became prisoners when the "Sabina" was recaptured. Their exchange was effected, for which alone Nelson was willing to wait. The fact that the Spanish fleet had gone towards Jervis's rendezvous, and the continuance of easterly winds, which would tend to drive them still farther in the same direction, gave him uneasy premonitions of that coming battle which it would "break his heart" to miss. It was, besides, part of his ingrained military philosophy, never absent from his careful mind, that a fair wind may fall or shift. "The object of a sea-officer is to embrace the happy moment which now and then offers,—it may be to-day, it may be never." Regretting at this moment the loss even of a tide, entailed by the engagements of the Viceroy, whom he had to carry to Jervis, and therefore could not leave, he wrote, "I fear a westerly wind." The Providence in which he so often expresses his reliance, now as on many other occasions, did not forsake the favored son, who never by sluggishness or presumption lost his opportunities. The wind held fair until the 13th of February, when Nelson rejoined the commander-in-chief. That night it shifted to the westward, and the following day was fought the Battle of Cape St. Vincent.

Taken in its entirety, the episode of this nearly forgotten mission to Elba is singularly characteristic, not only of Nelson's own qualities, but also of those concurrences which, whatever the origin attributed to them by this or that person, impress upon a man's career the stamp of "fortunate." An errand purely of evasion, not in itself of prime importance, but for an object essentially secondary, it results in a night combat of unusual brilliancy, which would probably not have been fought at all could the British have seen the overwhelming force ready to descend upon conqueror and conquered alike. With every spar wounded, and a hostile fleet in sight, the "Minerve" nevertheless makes good her retreat. Solitary, in an enemy's sea, she roams it with premeditated deliberateness, escaping molestation, and, except in the first instance, even detection. She carries the fortunes of a Caesar yet unknown, who is ready to stake them at any moment for adequate cause; but everything works together, not merely for his preservation, but to bring him up just in time for the exceptional action, which showed there was more to him than even his untiring energy and fearlessness had so far demonstrated. As when, in later years, burning anxiety pressed him to hasten after Villeneuve, yet failed so to discompose him as to cause the neglect of any preparation essential to due provision for the abandoned Mediterranean; so now, with every power at highest tension to rejoin the admiral, eager not to waste a moment, he mars his diligence by no precipitancy, he grudges no hour necessary to the rounded completion of the present task,—to see, and know, and do, all that can be seen and done. He might almost have used again, literally, the expression before quoted: "I have not a thought on any subject separated from the immediate object of my command."

Leaving the "Romulus" in Gibraltar, the "Minerve" sailed again on the 11th. The Spanish ships-of-the-line followed her at once. The east wind blows in wild and irregular puffs upon the anchorages immediately under the lofty Rock, where the frigate lay. Farther up, where the Spaniards were, it crosses the low neck joining the peninsula to the mainland, and is there more equable and more constant. The "Minerve" was consequently at a disadvantage until she got fairly from under its lee, and the chase through the Straits became close enough to draw the idlers of the town and garrison in crowds to the hillsides. It soon became evident that the leading ship-of-the-line was gaining upon the frigate, and the latter cleared for action. Nelson had but a poor opinion of the Spanish navy of his day, and doubtless chose, before surrendering, to take his chance of one of those risks which in war often give strange results. He said to Drinkwater that he thought an engagement probable, but added, "Before the Dons get hold of that bit of bunting I will have a struggle with them, and sooner than give up the frigate, I'll run her ashore."

About this time the officers' dinner was announced. Drinkwater went below, and was just congratulating Lieutenant Hardy, who had been captured in the "Sabina," upon his exchange, when the cry "Man overboard!" was heard. The party dispersed hurriedly, in sympathy with the impulse which invariably causes a rush under such circumstances; and Drinkwater, running to the stern windows, saw a boat already lowering with Hardy in it, to recover the man, who, however, could not be found. The boat therefore, making signal to that effect, soon turned to pull to the ship. The situation was extremely embarrassing, not to say critical; on the one hand, the natural reluctance to abandon any one or anything to the enemy, on the other, the imminent risk of sacrificing the ship and all concerned by any delay,—for the leading Spaniard, by himself far superior in force, was nearly within gunshot. Temperament and habit decide, in questions where reason has little time and less certainty upon which to act; by nature and experience Nelson was inclined to take risks. It was evident the boat could not overtake the frigate unless the latter's way was lessened, and each moment that passed made this step more perilous, as the pursuer was already overhauling the "Minerve." "By God, I'll not lose Hardy!" he exclaimed; "back the mizzen-topsail." The ship's speed being thus checked, the boat came alongside, and the party scrambled on board. Singularly enough, the enemy, disconcerted by Nelson's action, stopped also, to allow his consort to come up,—a measure wholly inexcusable, and only to be accounted for by that singular moral effect produced in many men by a sudden and unexpected occurrence. The daring deed had therefore the happiest results of a stratagem, and the frigate was troubled no further.

Steering that night to the southward, to throw off her pursuers, the "Minerve" found herself unexpectedly in the midst of a fleet, which, from the signals made, was evidently not that of Jervis, and therefore must be hostile. The hazy atmosphere veiled the British frigate from close observation, and, by conforming her movements to those of the strangers, she escaped suspicion. Nelson was uncertain whether it was the Spanish grand fleet, or, possibly, a detached body proceeding to the West Indies. He had heard a rumor of such an expedition, and the impression was probably confirmed by these ships being met when steering southerly from the Straits; Cadiz, the known destination of the grand fleet, being north. As the British commercial interests in the Caribbean were of the first importance, and would be much endangered, he told Drinkwater, who lay awake in his cot, that, if he became convinced the ships in sight were bound there, he should give up the attempt to join the commander-in-chief, and should start at once for the Islands, to forewarn them of the approaching danger. The colonel was naturally startled at the prospect of an involuntary trip across the Atlantic, and represented the equally urgent necessity—as he thought—of Jervis and the British Cabinet getting the information, which Elliot was bringing, of the views and intentions of the Italian governments. This Nelson admitted, but replied that he thought the other consideration greater, and that—the condition arising—he must do as he had said. The incident illustrates the activity of his mind, in comprehending instantly the singular opportunity thrust unexpectedly upon him, as well as the readiness to accept responsibility and to follow his own judgment, which he showed on so many other occasions, both before and after this.

Later in the night the hostile ships went about, evidencing thereby a desire to keep to windward, which pointed much more toward Cadiz than to any western destination. The "Minerve" imitated them, but altered her course so as to edge away gradually from her dangerous neighbors. Nelson, some time after, again entered the cabin, and told Drinkwater and Elliot, the latter having also waked, that he had got clear of the enemy, but that at daylight the course would be altered so as to sight them once more, if they were really going west. Should it prove to be so, they must make up their minds to visit the West Indies. Nothing, however, being seen during the 12th, the commodore, satisfied at last that he had been in the midst of the grand fleet, hastened on, and towards noon of the 13th joined the admiral. Before doing so, some of the Spaniards were again sighted. They had been seen also by the regular British lookouts, one at least of which had kept touch with them through the preceding days of hazy weather. Nelson, after an interview with Jervis, went on board the "Captain," where his broad pendant was again hoisted at 6 P.M.

At daybreak, the position of the two fleets was twenty-five miles west of Cape St. Vincent, a headland on the Portuguese coast, a hundred and fifty miles northwest of Cadiz. During the night the wind had shifted from the eastward to west by south, and, being now fair, the Spaniards were running for their port, heading about east-southeast; but they were in disorder, and were divided into two principal fragments, of which the headmost, and therefore leewardmost, numbered six ships. It was separated from the other division of twenty-one by a space of six or eight miles. In the whole force, of twenty-seven ships, there were seven of three decks, the least of which carried one hundred and twelve guns; the remainder were principally seventy-fours, there being, however, one of eighty-four guns. Jervis's fleet consisted of fifteen ships-of-the-line,—two of one hundred guns, four of ninety-eight or ninety, eight seventy-fours, and one sixty-four. From the intelligence received the previous day of the enemy's proximity, the admiral kept the command throughout the night in two columns, in close order, a formation suited by its compactness to a hazy night, and at the same time manageable in case of encountering an enemy suddenly. The course was south by west, almost perpendicular to that of the Spaniards. The two fleets were thus running, one from the westward, and the other from the northward, to a common crossing.[42]

At daylight the enemy's fleet was partly visible to the leading ships of the British columns. As the morning advanced, and the situation developed, it was seen that the Spanish line was long and straggling, and the gap began to show. As the British were heading directly towards it, Jervis ordered a half-dozen of his ships, which were all still under moderate canvas, to press on and interpose between the enemy's divisions. An hour or so later he made the signal to form the single column, which was the usual fighting order of those days. The fleet being already properly disposed for manoeuvres, this change of order was effected, to use his own words, "with the utmost celerity." Nelson's ship was thirteenth in the new order, therefore nearly the last. Next after him came the sixty-four, the "Diadem," while Collingwood, in the "Excellent," brought up the rear. Immediately ahead of Nelson was the "Barfleur," carrying the flag of one of the junior admirals, to whom naturally fell the command in that part of the line.

Three of the larger Spanish body succeeded in crossing ahead of the British column and joining the lee group, thus raised to nine ships. No others were able to effect this, the headmost British ships anticipating them in the gap. Jervis's plan was to pass between their two divisions with his one column, protracting this separation, then to go about in succession and attack the eighteen to windward, because their comrades to leeward could not help them in any short time. This was done. The lee ships did attempt to join those to windward by breaking through the British order, but were so roughly handled that they gave it up and continued to the south-southwest, hoping to gain a better opportunity. The weather ships, on the other hand, finding they could not pass, steered to the northward,—nearly parallel, but opposite, to the course which both the British and their own lee group were then following.

A heavy cannonade now ensued, each British ship engaging as its batteries came to bear, through the advance of the column to the south-southwest. After an hour of this, the admiral made the signal to tack in succession. This was instantly obeyed by the leader, the "Culloden," which was expecting it, and each following ship tacked also as it reached the same point. But as the Spaniards were continually receding from this point, which the British rear was approaching, it was evident that in time the latter would leave uncovered the ground that had so far separated the two hostile divisions. This the Spanish admiral expected to be his opportunity; it proved to be Nelson's.

At 1 P.M.,[43] by Nelson's journal, the "Captain," standing south by west, had come abreast the rearmost of the eighteen weather ships, having passed the others. He then noticed that the leaders of that body were bearing up before the wind, to the eastward, to cross behind the British column. If this were carried out unmolested, they could join the lee ships, which heretofore had been separated from them by the centre and rear of the British line, and at this moment were not very far distant, being still engaged with the British centre; or else, so Nelson thought, they might fly before the wind, making ineffective all that had been done so far. "To prevent either of their schemes from taking effect, I ordered the ship to be wore, and passing between the Diadem and Excellent, at a quarter past one o'clock, was engaged with the headmost, and of course leewardmost of the Spanish division. The ships which I know were, the Santissima Trinidad, 126; San Josef, 112;[1] Salvador del Mundo, 112;[1] San Nicolas, 80;[44] another first-rate, and seventy-four, names not known. I was immediately joined and most nobly supported by the Culloden, Captain Troubridge. The Spanish fleet,[45] from not wishing (I suppose) to have a decisive battle, hauled to the wind [again] on the larboard tack, which brought the ships afore-mentioned to be the leewardmost and sternmost ships in their fleet."

By this spontaneous and sudden act, for which he had no authority, by signal or otherwise, except his own judgment and quick perceptions, Nelson entirely defeated the Spanish movement. Devoting his own ship to a most unequal contest, he gained time for the approaching British van to come up, and carry on the work they had already begun when first passing these ships—before the moment of tacking. The British column being then in a V shape,—part on one tack, part on the other, the point of the V being that of tacking,—he hastened across, by a short cut, from the rear of one arm of the V to a position on the other side, toward which the van was advancing, but which it, being more distant, could not reach as soon as he, and therefore not to as good effect. To quote Jervis's words concerning this incident, "Commodore Nelson, who was in the rear on the starboard tack, took the lead on the larboard, and contributed very much to the fortune of the day." On the intellectual side, the side of skill, this is what he did; on the side of valor, it is to be said that he did it for the moment single-handed. The "Culloden," the actual leader, came up shortly, followed afterwards by the "Blenheim;" and the "Excellent" was ordered by Jervis to imitate Nelson's movement, and strengthen the operation which he had initiated. It was the concentration of these ships at the point which Nelson seized, and for a moment held alone, that decided the day; and it was there that the fruits of victory were chiefly reaped.

It must not be understood, of course, that all the honors of the day are to be claimed for Nelson, even conjointly with those present with him at the crucial moment. Much was done, both before and after, which contributed materially to the aggregate results, some of which were missed by the very reluctance of men of solid military qualities to desist from seeking enemies still valid, in order to enjoy what Nelson called the "parade of taking possession of beaten enemies." It seems probable that more Spanish ships might have been secured, had it not been for the eagerness of some British vessels to push on to new combats. But, while fully allowing the merits of many others, from the commander-in-chief down, it is true of St. Vincent, as of most battles, that there was a particular moment on which success or failure hinged, and that upon the action then taken depended the chief outcome,—a decisive moment, in short. That moment was when the enemy attempted, with good prospect, to effect the junction which Nelson foiled. As Collingwood afterwards summed up the matter: "The highest rewards are due to you and Culloden; you formed the plan of attack,—we were only accessories to the Dons' ruin; for had they got on the other tack, they would have been sooner joined, and the business would have been less complete."

When Collingwood came up with the "Excellent," the "Captain" was practically disabled for further movement, had lost heavily in men, and was without immediate support. The "Culloden" had dropped astern, crippled, as had two of the Spanish vessels; the "Blenheim," after passing the "Culloden" and the "Captain," between them and the enemy, had drawn ahead. The "Excellent," steering between the two Spanish ships that had fallen behind, fired into both of them, and Nelson thought both then struck; but Collingwood did not stop to secure them. "Captain Collingwood," says Nelson, in his account, "disdaining the parade of taking possession of beaten enemies, most gallantly pushed up, with every sail set, to save his old friend and messmate, who was to appearance in a critical state. The Excellent ranged up within ten feet of the San Nicolas, giving a most tremendous fire. The San Nicolas luffing up, the San Josef fell on board her, and the Excellent passing on for the Santissima Trinidad, the Captain resumed[46] her situation abreast of them, and close alongside. At this time the Captain having lost her fore-topmast, not a sail, shroud,[47] or rope left, her wheel shot away, and incapable of further service in the line, or in chase, I directed Captain Miller to put the helm a-starboard, and calling for the boarders, ordered them to board."[48]

The "Captain" fetched alongside of the "San Nicolas," her bow touching the lee (starboard) quarter of the Spanish vessel, her spritsail yard hooking in the other's mizzen shrouds. Commander Berry, a very young man, who had lately been first lieutenant of the "Captain," leaped actively into the mizzen chains, the first on board the enemy; he was quickly supported by others, who passed over by the spritsail yard. The captain of the ship was in the act of following, at the head of his men, when Nelson stopped him. "No, Miller," he said, "I must have that honour;" and he directed him to remain. One of the soldiers of the Sixty-ninth Regiment, who were serving on board as marines, broke open the upper quarter-gallery window of the "San Nicolas," and through this Nelson entered, with a crowd of followers, to find himself in the cabin of the enemy's ship. The doors being fastened, they were held there a few moments, while Spanish officers from the quarter-deck discharged their pistols at them; but the doors were soon broken down, and the party, after firing a volley, sallied on the spar deck, which the enemy yielded to them,—a Spanish commodore falling by the wheel as he retreated. Berry had by this time reached the poop, where he hauled down the colors, while Nelson passed to the forward part of the ship, meeting on his way several Spanish officers, who, being by this time in the hands of British seamen, gave up to him their swords. The Spanish guns on the lower decks still continued firing for some moments, apparently at the "Prince George," which had passed to leeward of the "Captain," and now kept her batteries playing upon the hull of the "San Nicolas" forward of the part where the "Captain" touched her.

At this moment a small-arm fire was opened from the stern galleries of the "San Josef" upon the British party in the "San Nicolas." Nelson caused the soldiers to reply to it, and ordered reinforcements sent to him from the "Captain." Parties were stationed at the hatchways of the "San Nicolas" to control the enemy and keep them below decks, and then the boarders charged again for the Spanish three-decker. Nelson was helped by Berry into her main chains; but he had got no farther before a Spanish officer put his head over the rail and said they surrendered. "From this most welcome information," continues Nelson, in his narrative, "it was not long before I was on the quarter-deck, when the Spanish captain, with a bow, presented me his sword, and said the admiral was dying of his wounds below. I asked him, on his honour, if the ship were surrendered? he declared she was; on which I gave him my hand, and desired him to call to his officers and ship's company, and tell them of it—which he did; and on the quarter-deck of a Spanish First-rate, extravagant as the story may seem, did I receive the swords of vanquished Spaniards; which, as I received, I gave to William Fearney, one of my bargemen, who put them with the greatest sangfroid under his arm. I was surrounded by Captain Berry, Lieutenant Pierson, 69th Regiment, John Sykes, John Thomson, Francis Cook, all old Agamemnons, and several other brave men, seamen and soldiers: thus fell these ships." The firing from the lower deck of the "San Nicolas" was by this time stopped, and the "Prince George" was hailed that both the enemy's vessels were in possession of the British. The "Victory," Jervis's flagship, passed a few moments later and cheered, as did every ship in the fleet.

The dramatic and picturesque surroundings which colored the seizure of these two Spanish ships have doubtless given an exaggerated idea of the danger and difficulty attending the exploit. The impression made upon a sympathetic and enthusiastic eye-witness, Sir Gilbert Elliot, who saw the affair from the decks of the frigate "Lively," has been transmitted to posterity with little diminution. "Nothing in the world was ever more noble than the transaction of the Captain from beginning to end, and the glorious group of your ship and her two prizes, fast in your gripe, was never surpassed, and I dare say never will." Yet it may better be looked upon as another of those "fortunate" occurrences which attend—and in Nelson's career repeatedly attended—the happy meeting of opportunity and readiness. Doubtless they were beaten ships, but other beaten ships have escaped in general actions—did at St. Vincent. "I pretend not to say," wrote Nelson a week later, "that these ships might not have fell, had I not boarded them; but truly it was far from impossible but they might have forged into the Spanish fleet as the other two ships did." He was there, he could do nothing else, he saw with his rapid glance that he might do this, and he did it. And, after all, it was a big thing,—this boarding a first-rate ship over the decks of another hostile ship, not inaptly characterized in the fleet as "Nelson's patent bridge." We must mark, too, or we shall miss significant indications of character, that the same qualities which led him to the quarter-deck of the "San Josef" had led him but an hour before from the rear of the fleet to the van to save the fight,—the same quickness to see opportunity, the same promptness to seize it, the same audacity to control it. The brilliant crowning of the day may be but an ornament, but it sits well and fitly upon the knightly deed that rolled back the tide of battle in the hour of need.