Nelson knew the man with whom he was dealing, and as the following characteristic letter to Rear-Admiral Duckworth shows, he was quite prepared for any eventuality. With insurgents on land and the possibility of a French fleet at sea in the near vicinity, it was incumbent on the British Admiral not to run unnecessary risks:—
“As you will believe, the Cardinal and myself have begun our career by a complete difference of opinion. He will send the Rebels to Toulon,—I say they shall not go. He thinks one house in Naples more to be prized than his Sovereign’s honour. Troubridge and Ball are gone to the Cardinal, for him to read my declaration to the French and Rebels, whom he persists in calling patriots—what a prostitution of the word! I shall send Foote to get the Gun-boats from Procida. I wish the Fleet not to be more than two-thirds of a cable from each other. I shall send you a sketch of the anchorage, in forty fathom water. The Foudroyant to be the Van-ship. If the French fleet should favour us with a visit, I can easily take my station in the centre.”
The Cardinal positively refused to entertain Nelson’s opinions, but after some hesitation decided to discuss affairs with him on the Foudroyant. The interview, which was stormy on both sides and somewhat protracted, owing to the necessity of employing Lord and Lady Hamilton as interpreters, took place on the afternoon of the 25th. Both of them held steadfastly to his own point of view. Nelson therefore wrote that “in his opinion” the Treaty with the rebels “cannot be carried into execution, without the approbation of his Sicilian Majesty.”
Uovo and Nuovo were taken possession of by British seamen under Troubridge on the evening of the 26th inst., and on the following day, Nelson communicated the fact to the Admiralty, adding: “This morning I am going to send a detachment under Captain Troubridge, to cut down the dangerous Tree of Anarchy, and to burn it before the King’s palace. The moment I can find the City a little quieted, guns shall be got against St Elmo, when, I am sure, the French will be glad to surrender.... In my present position, I have not the smallest alarm should the Enemy favour us with a visit, inferior as my force is to oppose them.” The castle capitulated on the 12th July 1799, to Nelson’s “brave friend” Troubridge, whose “great character,” “ability and resources” were duly detailed to Lord Keith, while the Admiral told Earl Spencer that, “On land the captain of the Culloden is a first-rate general!” Troubridge’s reward was a baronetcy, to which no one ever had a clearer title.
Was Nelson justified in cancelling the agreement entered into by Ruffo and his allies and the enemy? The question has been discussed with great vehemence and at prodigious length. Mahan’s opinion is that “his conduct throughout was open and consistent.” He is convinced that the Admiral acted up to his firm belief “that he not only had a right to suspend the Capitulation, because, though signed, it had not been executed, but that it was his bounden duty so to do; having both legal power and adequate force to prevent its execution.” Nelson “regarded himself as, and for the time being actually was, the representative of the King of the Two Sicilies, as well as the admiral of the British fleet. As representative, he was charged with the interests and honour of the Sovereign and had authority over all Neapolitan officials; as admiral, he wielded power to enforce obedience, if refused. Considering the terms of the Capitulation to be contrary to the interests and the honour of the Kingdom, he was under an obligation to prevent their going into effect, until the King’s decision, becoming known, should supersede his own discretion.”
Laughton, whose biography of Nelson is much shorter than Mahan’s, and is therefore not so comprehensive, dismisses the matter by saying, “it is perfectly well established as the usage of civilised war that terms granted by a military officer are conditional on the approval of his superiors, unless he has distinct authority to negotiate, or the capitulation has been effected wholly or in part. In the present instance Cardinal Ruffo had not only no authority to negotiate, but he had express orders from the King not to do so.” By the fourth Article of the “Instructions to the troops of his Majesty, ordered to repair to the Bay of Naples,” dated Palermo, June 10th, 1799, “All the military and political operations shall be agreed upon by the Prince Royal and Admiral Lord Nelson. The opinion of this latter always to have a preponderance, on account of the respect due to his experience, as well as to the forces under his command, which will determine the operations; and also because we are so deeply indebted to him for the zeal and attachment of which he has given so many proofs.” By the tenth Article, “The acts of clemency concerning the noted offenders, and the pardoning of the same, are reserved for the King, excepting those stipulated in the articles of capitulation.”
About seventy Jacobins were executed for their misdeeds, but Nelson was only concerned in the death of one of them. Commodore Francesco Caracciolo, the commander of the Republican Navy, had previously accompanied the Sicilian Court to Palermo, but when an edict was issued by the French that the property of all absentees would be confiscated, he had obtained King Ferdinand’s permission to return. Marshal Macdonald, then Commander-in-chief of the French Army of Naples, refers to the matter in his “Recollections.” “I had resolved,” he writes, “to induce Admiral Caracciolo to take service in the new fleet; he equipped a flotilla which secured respect for the port and coasts of Naples, frequently threatened by attempts of the English, who occupied the islands and were stationed in the roads.”42 When Caracciolo’s position on sea became untenable, he sought a safer asylum in one of the forts, whence he eventually fled to the mountains disguised as a peasant. Here he was discovered and captured. The refugee was brought on board the Foudroyant on the morning of the 29th June. Nelson at once instructed Count Thurn, Commander of the Sicilian frigate La Minerva, who had been in action with Caracciolo, to assemble five of the senior officers under his command to inquire if the prisoner were guilty of rebellion against his lawful Sovereign, and having fired at his Sicilian Majesty’s colours on board La Minerva. The trial duly took place; the sentence was death. This was to be carried out “by hanging him at the fore yard-arm of His Sicilian Majesty’s Frigate La Minerva, under your command, at five o’clock this evening; and to cause him to hang there until sunset, when you will have his body cut down, and thrown into the sea.” Such were Nelson’s instructions, which were obeyed. Parsons, who had charge of Caracciolo, describes him as “a short, thick-set man, of apparent strength, but haggard with misery and want; his clothing in wretched condition, but his countenance denoting stern resolution to endure that misery like a man.” The sympathetic narrator persists in calling him “veteran” and “old man.” The Commodore was only forty-seven years of age, although his wan appearance may have made him look considerably older. “At two o’clock in the afternoon,” Parsons adds, “the veteran, with a firm step, walked into Lord Nelson’s barge, and with a party of thirty of our seamen, under one of our lieutenants, was taken to his [Count Thurn’s] flagship, the gun fired, and the brave old man launched into eternity at the expiration of the two hours from the time the sentence had passed. The seamen of our fleet, who clustered on the rigging like bees, consoled themselves that it was only an Italian prince, and the admiral of Naples, that was hanging—a person of very light estimation compared with the lowest man in a British ship. His Majesty of Naples, the Prime Minister, Sir John Acton, and many of the foreign ambassadors, joined and took up their quarters in the Foudroyant two days after the execution; and my Lord Nelson removed to the first lieutenant’s cabin as his sleeping apartment, giving his cabin to the king’s use, and the larboard side of the maindeck for his cooks, who condescended to officiate as ours; and never did midshipmen fare so sumptuously as during the king’s long stay on board the Foudroyant. The day was passed in administering justice (Italian fashion) to the wretches who fell into the grasp of Cardinal Ruffo’s lambs, enlivened by the bombardment of St Elmo, which we were battering in breach. At noon, dinner was served to the royal party and their guests on the quarter-deck; Lady Hamilton’s graceful form bending over her harp, and her heavenly music gave a gusto to the dessert. As the sun went down, the opera singers, in a large, decked galley, came alongside, and all that could delight the ear or please the eye was there to fascinate and charm.”
There is more than a suspicion of irony in the above passage. It is useful because one can readily believe that it was the point of view of the majority of the British petty officers and seamen. They failed to understand why so much deference should be shown to King Ferdinand and his Queen, who doubtless in their opinion would have shown more royal qualifications had they remained in their capital instead of making a hasty flight to Palermo. This is not the place to discuss the merits and demerits of monarchy and republic, both of which have their advantages. Certainly the foreign policy of Great Britain at the end of the eighteenth century did not allow an ally to be dethroned without making an effort on his behalf.
Southey, when dealing with the execution of Caracciolo, has seen fit to introduce Nelson’s relations with Lady Hamilton into the matter, which may be forgiven a man who published his narrative in 1813, when current scandal and gossip were often the chief “authorities” of the historian. “Doubtless” he remarks, “the British Admiral seemed to himself to be acting under a rigid sense of justice, but to all other persons it was obvious that he was influenced by an infatuated attachment—a baneful passion, which destroyed his domestic happiness, and now, in a second instance, stained ineffaceably his public character.” Now Lady Hamilton, as a matter of actual fact, had nothing whatever to do with the hanging of the traitor and did not converse with the Admiral during Caracciolo’s detention. The rebel was tried by those of his own nationality, and according to Mahan, “there is no ground for doubting that he (Nelson) had authority to order a court-martial, and to carry its sentence into execution, nor that Caracciolo came within the jurisdiction of a court-martial properly constituted.” It is only just to add, however, that in the opinion of the same eminent authority there was no real necessity for such undue haste on Nelson’s part. “He should have remembered that the act would appear to the world, not as that of the Neapolitan plenipotentiary, but of the British officer, and that his nation, while liable like others to bursts of unreasoning savagery, in its normal moods delights to see justice clothed in orderly forms, unstained by precipitation or suspicion of perversion, advancing to its ends with the majesty of law, without unseemly haste, providing things honest in the sight of all men. That he did not do so, when he could have done so, has been intuitively felt; and to the instinctive resentment thus aroused among his countrymen has been due the facility with which the worst has been too easily believed.”
CHAPTER XII
Nelson in Temporary Command
(1799–1800)
“The great object of the war is—Down, down with the French.”
Nelson.
King Ferdinand was again on board the Foudroyant, holding his Levées on the quarter-deck, and making himself as affable as was possible to a man of his morose temperament. Nelson’s infatuation for the welfare of his Majesty and his kingdom seemed growing. The castle of St Elmo had fallen, thereby completing the conquest of Naples, but the Admiral saw fit to order Troubridge to march against Capua, thereby denuding the fleet of a thousand men, who were to act in concert with four times that number of troops. This was done after the receipt of a warning from Keith that it might be necessary to withdraw the squadron for the protection of Minorca.
“Should such an order come at this moment,” Nelson writes to Earl Spencer, “it would be a cause for some consideration whether Minorca is to be risked, or the two Kingdoms of Naples and Sicily? I rather think my decision would be to risk the former.” In other words, Nelson placed the interests of an allied Power before those of his own country, although of course his services to the Sicilies were of importance to the latter. One cannot help thinking that there is more than a suspicion of ulterior motives in what was to lead to a flagrant disobedience of orders. The letter concludes with the most affectionate references to Sir William and Lady Hamilton, who were assuredly his evil genii at the moment. According to Nelson they were with him to his “great comfort,” without them “it would have been impossible I could have rendered half the service to his Majesty which I have now done: their heads and their hearts are equally great and good.” Writing to Keith on the same day—13th July 1799—he refers solely to King Ferdinand: “It has been and is my study to treat his Majesty with all the respect due to so great a personage, and I have the pleasure to believe that my humble endeavours have met with the Royal approbation.”
After penning this communication the Admiral received a despatch from Keith, dated the 27th June, implicitly requiring him “to send such Ships as you can possibly spare off the Island of Minorca to wait my orders.” This he acknowledged by saying that “as soon as the safety of His Sicilian Majesty’s Kingdoms is secured, I shall not lose one moment in making the detachment you are pleased to order. At present, under God’s Providence, the safety of His Sicilian Majesty, and his speedy restoration to his Kingdom, depends on this Fleet, and the confidence inspired even by the appearance of our Ships before the City is beyond all belief; and I have no scruple in declaring my opinion that should any event draw us from the Kingdom, that if the French remain in any part of it, disturbances will again arise, for all order having been completely overturned, it must take a thorough cleansing, and some little time, to restore tranquillity.” In order to justify his conduct, Nelson next sent a second note to Earl Spencer. After referring to his previous letter, which showed that he was prepared for Keith’s order, he adds, “more than ever is my mind made up, that, at this moment, I will not part with a single Ship, as I cannot do that without drawing a hundred and twenty men from each Ship now at the Siege of Capua, where an Army is gone this day. I am fully aware of the act I have committed; but, sensible of my loyal intentions, I am prepared for any fate which may await my disobedience. Capua and Gaeta will soon fall; and the moment the scoundrels of French are out of this Kingdom, I shall send eight or nine Ships of the Line to Minorca. I have done what I thought right; others may think differently; but it will be my consolation that I have gained a Kingdom, seated a faithful Ally of his Majesty firmly on his throne, and restored happiness to millions. Do not think, my dear Lord, that my opinion is formed from the arrangements of any one. No; be it good, or be it bad, it is all my own.” The writer concludes with an appeal for Earl Spencer’s interest with the Board of the Admiralty, which was not vouchsafed. His having proceeded to the Bay of Naples and of the operations against the castle of St Elmo were approved, but not of the land warfare carried on by the seamen against Capua. Their Lordships did not see “sufficient reason to justify your having disobeyed the orders you had received from your Commanding-Officer, or having left Minorca exposed to the risk of being attacked, without having any Naval force to protect it.”
On the 19th July, Nelson was handed a second urgent despatch from Keith, ordering him either to leave Sicily and repair to Minorca with his whole force or to detach the greater part of his squadron and place it under Duckworth. Keith’s “repeated information” led him to believe that the enemy was not making for Sicily or Egypt, as had been thought probable, but for Ireland. Nelson again refused to obey his Commander-in-chief. Not until the 22nd inst., when Keith informed Nelson that the French fleet was off Cape Tres Forcas, did he see fit to dispatch Duckworth with four vessels to Minorca.
The Frenchmen succeeded in joining their Spanish allies at Cartagena and arriving safely at Brest, from which port they did not issue for some months, an event which does not therefore concern us at the moment. Capua and Gaeta eventually surrendered, the articles of capitulation being signed by Acton and Nelson on behalf of King Ferdinand on the 31st July 1799, thus liberating “the Kingdom of Naples from a band of robbers,” as the Admiral informed Keith.
So far this portion of the narrative has been necessarily confined to cold, matter-of-fact details. Mention must now be made of the celebrations held on the first anniversary of the battle of the Nile. Well might Nelson be fêted on such an occasion; he had served their Sicilian Majesties all too faithfully. He thus describes the picturesque scene for the benefit of his wife:—
“Thank God all goes well in Italy, and the Kingdom of Naples is liberated from thieves and murderers. But still, it has so overthrown the fabric of a regular Government, that much time and great care are necessary to keep the Country quiet. The 1st of August was celebrated here with as much respect as our situation would admit. The King dined with me; and, when His Majesty drank my health, a Royal salute of twenty-one guns was fired from all his Sicilian Majesty’s Ships of War, and from all the Castles. In the evening there was a general illumination. Amongst other representations, a large Vessel was fitted out like a Roman galley; on its oars were fixed lamps, and in the centre was erected a rostral column with my name: at the stern were elevated two angels supporting my picture. In short, my dear Fanny, the beauty of the whole is beyond my powers of description. More than 2000 variegated lamps were suspended round the Vessel. An orchestra was fitted up, and filled with the very best musicians and singers. The piece of music was in a great measure to celebrate my praise, describing their previous distress, ‘but Nelson came, the invincible Nelson, and they were preserved, and again made happy.’ This must not make you think me vain; no, far, very far from it, I relate it more from gratitude than vanity. I return to Palermo with the King to-morrow.”43
It was characteristic of Nelson’s fond regard for his father that when King Ferdinand created him Duke of Bronté, which he believed would mean an increase of some £3000 a year to his income, he taxed the estate to the extent of £500 per annum on behalf of the Rev. Edmund Nelson as “a mark of gratitude to the best of parents.”
Keith being on the look-out for the forty ships of the allied fleets—for Bruix had been joined by the Spanish fleet at Cartagena as previously mentioned—the chief command devolved upon Nelson. Unfortunately Keith was unable to come up with the enemy, who entered Brest without being brought to battle. He then returned to England. Nelson hoped that the Lords of the Admiralty would make his temporary command permanent. Why they failed to do so is not quite clear. Keith was sent back, and resumed command in the following January. The situation was a most difficult one for Nelson, especially as the King of the Two Sicilies invariably showed the white feather when Nelson wished to conduct him to Naples: “nothing can move him.” The Admiral’s health was still unsatisfactory. “I am almost blind, and truly very unwell.” He was worried because the naval force had been withdrawn from the coast of Italy, worried about the siege of Malta, and worried by the stupidity of his Russian and Turkish allies. But he maintained a bold front, and never let the respective commanders know what he thought of them. Instead, he wrote the most reassuring messages to everybody, knowing and appreciating full well the value of optimism.
In September 1799, we find his squadron disposed at six different points, namely off Alexandria and the coast of Egypt, under Sir Sidney Smith; off Malta, under the Portuguese Rear-Admiral the Marquis de Niza; at Palermo; on the coast of Naples and the Roman coast, under Troubridge; on the north coast of Italy; and blockading Cadiz and protecting the Straits of Gibraltar, Minorca, etc., which is sufficient to show that his task was an arduous one. He endeavoured to stir up enthusiasm in the land forces on behalf of Malta, Civita Vecchia, and Rome. To Sir James Erskine, at Port Mahon, he wrote with all the eloquence he could command to incite him to effort: “The field of glory is a large one, and was never more open to any one than at this moment to you. Rome would throw open her gates and receive you as a deliverer; and the Pope44 would owe his restoration to the Papal Chair to an heretic. This is the first great object, as it would not only be the complete deliverance of Italy, but restore peace and tranquillity to the torn-to-pieces Kingdom of Naples.... The next great object is the reduction of Malta, and in any other moment than the present, it would be a most important one.... To return to the first object, I can take upon me to say, that our King would be much gratified that Britain not Austria should re-instate the Pope. You are at perfect liberty to say this from me; for the world sees the ambition of Austria, and her eagle wants to extend her wings from the Adriatic to the Mediterranean. I will not say more, but that I will support you to the utmost of my abilities.” Succour did not come from Erskine but from a division of troops sent by the veteran Russian commander Suwarrow, and, on the 1st October, Nelson was able to inform the Admiralty of the terms entered into with the French by Troubridge for the evacuation of Rome and Civita Vecchia, “on which event I sincerely congratulate their Lordships.”
On the 15th of the same month Nelson sent the “Sketch of my Life,” already remarked upon,45 to Mr John McArthur of the “Naval Chronicle,” in which he says that when the terms of capitulation were signed on board the Culloden, “a prophecy, made to me on my arrival at Naples, was fulfilled, viz., ‘that I should take Rome with my Ships.’”
“Thus,” he concludes, “may be exemplified by my Life that perseverance in my profession will most probably meet its reward. Without having any inheritance, or being fortunate in prize money, I have received all the honours of my profession, been created a Peer of Great Britain, and I may say to thee, reader:
“‘Go thou and do likewise.’”
Nelson’s enthusiasm in the matter of Italy was due partly to the magnificent series of victories which the armies of the coalition had won. Alessandria and Mantua had fallen, Moreau had retreated near Novi, and Tortona had surrendered. So far everything seemed to be pitched in a major key, but the minor element entered when the Russians were sent into Switzerland instead of being allowed to finish their task in Italy. Masséna won the battle of Zurich, thereby severing the communications between the Austro-Russian forces in Switzerland and in Italy. In October the intrepid Suwarrow, crossing the Alps, withdrew his forces to Bavaria for the purpose of taking up winter quarters, declining to further expose his worn-out troops.
In the same month another and more important event happened, which was to be far-reaching in its results. On the 9th of that month Napoleon, having been fortunate enough to escape the vigilance of British cruisers during his long and tedious voyage from Alexandria, landed in France. Nelson did not hear the news until the 24th, when he told Sir Sidney Smith, “I have just got a report that appears to have some foundation, that Buonaparte has passed Corsica in a Bombard, steering for France. No Crusader ever returned with more humility—contrast his going in L’Orient, &c., &c.” Nelson was not on intimate terms with Smith, and was therefore not likely to relieve his mind “against French villany” as he did to Earl Spencer: “The great object of the war is—Down, down with the French!” “If I could have any Cruisers,” he said in another letter, “as was my plan, off Cape Bon, in Africa, and between Corsica and Toulon, Mr Buonaparte could not probably have got to France; but if it bring on a confusion at Paris, I hope it will be for the best.” “I have regretted sincerely the escape of Buonaparte”; he tells the Earl of Elgin, British ambassador at Constantinople; “but those Ships which were destined by me for the two places where he would certainly have been intercepted, were, from the Admiralty thinking, doubtless, that the Russians would do something at sea, obliged to be at Malta, and other services which I thought the Russian Admiral would have assisted me in—therefore, no blame lays at my door.” Again, “Our news here is of a civil war in France—Buonaparte against Barras. May God increase their confusion.”
While Sir Sidney Smith had been eminently successful at the siege of Acre, which made Napoleon miss his “destiny” and precluded him from changing “the face of the world,” as he himself stated, the defeat of the Turks after their disembarkation at Aboukir in July considerably altered the condition of affairs. Smith and the Turkish Government were for allowing the French to return to their native country, an arrangement not at all in accord with Nelson’s wishes. “I own my hope yet is,” he confesses to the Earl of Elgin, “that the Sublime Porte will never permit a single Frenchman to quit Egypt; and I own myself wicked enough to wish them all to die in that Country they chose to invade. We have scoundrels of French enough in Europe without them.... I again take the liberty of repeating that it is contrary to my opinion, allowing a single Frenchman from Egypt to return during the war to France. It would [be a] paper I never would subscribe to; but I submit to the better judgment of men.” To Spencer Smith, Secretary of Embassy, Constantinople, he says much the same thing: “I cannot bring myself to believe they would entirely quit Egypt; and, if they would, I never would consent to one of them returning to the Continent of Europe during the war. I wish them to perish in Egypt, and give a great lesson to the world of the justice of the Almighty.” “I would have kept up a more constant communication with Egypt;” he tells Keith on the 7th January 1800, “but I have never had the benefit of small Vessels.” When the Admiral heard of the Convention of El Arish, concluded by Smith and Kléber—Napoleon’s successor in Egypt—Nelson was furious. By its terms the army and its munitions were to be allowed to return to France. Had Nelson been Commander-in-chief, he would have refused “to ratify any consent or approbation of Sir Sidney Smith,” and would never “for a moment have forgot my text—that at all risks of giving offence, not one Frenchman should be allowed to quit Egypt.” Keith showed a firm hand when the intelligence reached him. He would consent to “no Capitulation with the French Army in Egypt, except as prisoners of war,” and he insisted on the abandoning of all ships and munitions. Moreover, no troops were to return until they were exchanged. In due course the British Government consented to the terms which had been made, although it disapproved of Sir Sidney Smith’s high-handed policy. On Kléber being informed of the conditions imposed on him by Keith, he refused to entertain them. Hostilities were renewed before the receipt of the Order from England confirming the capitulation, and the negotiations came to nothing.