CHAPTER VIII
                
        
        THE COMMAND OF THE SEA.
                
        
        
           
        
        
           
        
        The chief
          causes which led to the renewal of war between Great Britain and France in 1803
          have been described in a previous chapter. Various occurrences which preceded
          the actual outbreak of hostilities appeared to indicate a design on the part of
          the French Government to invade England. In December, 1802, instructions sent
          by the First Consul to his so-called commercial agents in the British ports had
          been intercepted, and were found to point to such an intention. On February 18,
          1803, in an interview with Lord Whitworth, he assumed a threatening attitude,
          and declared that, in case of war, he would risk his life and reputation in an
          attempt to invade England, though he did not underrate the danger of such an
          adventure. “He acknowledged” (said Lord Whitworth) “that there were a hundred
          chances to one against him”, but he went on to state that he could find army
          after army for the enterprise.
          
        
        This violent
          talk alarmed the British Government, the more so as, according to Lord
          Whitworth’s despatches, it was accompanied by naval preparations. Several
          French sail of the line had embarked troops in the Mediterranean; there was a
          considerable movement of French troops in Belgium towards Havre and Dunkirk; in
          the Batavian Republic, then under French control, a small naval expedition was
          fitting out. The British ministry saw in these things indications that some
          treacherous attack was intended, and at once made counter-preparations. A royal
          message to Parliament (March 8) stated that the military preparations of France
          rendered it expedient to adopt additional measures of precaution; bounties were
          offered to seamen for enlistment in the fleet; there was a “hot press” in
          London for likely men; all seamen and officers in foreign employment were
          recalled; and the militia were embodied. The number of men voted for the navy
          by the estimates had been only 50,000; 10,000 more were voted on March 14, and
          40,000 in addition when war became certain.
          
        
        In reality,
          the British Government seems to have been misinformed as to the French
          armaments. The French archives do not reveal any threatening movements either
          by land or sea, which is the more surprising, as it was not Bonaparte’s habit
          to use threats without force to back them. The probable explanation is that he
          expected a long period of diplomatic correspondence to elapse before the
          outbreak of hostilities—a conjecture which receives support from the fact that,
          on March 6, General Decaen was permitted to sail for the French East Indies
          with a small force, with instructions drawn up in such a manner as to make it
          clear that war was not anticipated till about September, 1804. If Bonaparte had
          thought that hostilities were imminent, he would scarcely have risked the loss
          of this detachment. His irritation was great when, on March 11, he learnt that
          the British Government had taken his threats seriously, and, instead of giving
          way, was arming. On the same day he wrote a large number of orders and letters,
          all having war in view, and constituted two “national flotillas”, with head-quarters
          at Dunkirk and Cherbourg. Two days later occurred the famous scene with Lord
          Whitworth, with its demand of “Malta or war”, indicating that a conflict was
          inevitable. Yet, after this threat, Bonaparte once more drew back, perhaps to
          gain time for armaments and to permit Decaen to reach India. War, however, was
          declared by Great Britain on May 18, 1803. Bonaparte’s first measure of
          retaliation was to seize and imprison every British subject within his reach.
          
        
        At the
          outbreak of war the French navy consisted of 23 ships of the line ready for
          service or in commission, 25 frigates, and 107 corvettes or smaller vessels,
          with 167 small craft belonging to the invasion flotilla of 1800. The best part
          of the fleet was in the West Indies, where twelve battleships, eight frigates,
          and 28 smaller vessels were covering the operations against San Domingo. In the
          home ports or in European waters only five ships of the line and ten frigates
          were actually ready for sea; but this force, after two months’ delay, could be
          raised to nine ships of the line and thirteen frigates, and in six months to 21
          battleships (including those from the West Indies) and 19 frigates; while 45
          sail of the line were under construction in the French ports. There was the
          same want of seamen as in the previous war; and timber and naval stores were
          again lacking. Of the Batavian fleet, comprising fifteen sail of the line, all
          small, only six were in commission. Five others were new and in good condition;
          while four stood in need of extensive repairs. The storehouses were empty, and
          money scarce.
          
        
        The
          personnel of the French navy was still disorganised and insufficient. It had
          not recovered from the demoralisation caused by the Revolution and by the
          terrible defeat of the Nile. The admirals were too old, and, according to
          Bonaparte, lacked energy and decision. They were unduly depressed by the
          prospects of a naval conflict, and seem to have feared Nelson with an almost
          superstitious dread. Service with the fleet was unpopular and inglorious; the best
          men went into the army rather than into the navy. The Dutch navy was in no
          better plight, and was more than ever ill-disposed to France, the Batavian
          Government being suspected of intriguing with England. Bonaparte was credited
          with the intention of gradually creating a French navy of 130 sail of the line,
          to be supported by 60 Spanish, 20 Dutch, and 15 Genoese ships; but the
          execution of these vast plans demanded time, and could not have been completed
          in less than ten years. The alliance of Spain was guaranteed to France by
          treaty, but was of so little value that, though Bonaparte demanded of the
          Spanish Government the twelve sail of the line and the 24,000 men with whom it
          was bound to support France, he accepted, in lieu of this, an annual subsidy of
          £2.880.CU0.
          
        
        Against the
          numerically weak and badly manned squadrons of France, England could place on
          the high seas a powerful force commanded by the men who had made their names
          famous in the war of 1793-1801. The fleet in commission in January, 1803, numbered
          34 sail of the line with 86 50-gun ships and frigates, and numerous small
          craft. Besides the ships in commission, there were in reserve 77 ships of the
          line and 49 50-gun ships and frigates. In numbers the British navy was superior
          to any combination of two or even three Powers. Fresh ships were rapidly
          commissioned, as the tension between England and France increased; the sail of
          the line in service rose in May to 52, and in June to 60, with corresponding
          additions to the force of frigates. Excellent officers were appointed by Lord
          St Vincent, then at the head of the Admiralty. For the Mediterranean, Nelson
          was chosen, as this was the post of the greatest danger, and would make the
          highest demands upon a commander’s activity. In the North Sea and the Straits
          of Dover Lori Keith was stationed with a small fleet. The main force in waters
          near home was the squadron off Brest, which was to maintain a close blockade of
          that port; it was commanded by Cornwallis, who was probably, after Nelson, the
          ablest of British admirals.
          
        
        The
          strategic position of England in the Mediterranean had been improved, as
          compared with that during the revolutionary war, by the acquisition of Malta.
          But, for the purpose of watching Toulon, Malta was of little importance; and it
          was scarcely used by Nelson, who would have preferred the island of Minorca in
          exchange. In the later stages of the war, during the operations in the Adriatic
          and the Levant, Malta proved of greater service. The main object of the British
          commanders was to interpose a superior force between the French fleets at
          Toulon and Brest; and Malta lay out of the direct course between these ports.
          Until the battle of Trafalgar, the British forces in the Mediterranean made
          Gibraltar their chief base, and used the harbours in the north of Sardinia as a
          “flying base” for action against Toulon.
          
        
        Throughout
          the war the British fleets acted on interior lines, blockading the different
          French detachments in the various ports and preventing their junction—a
          strategic plan which was comparatively simple in days when the movements of
          ships depended on conditions of wind and weather, and could never be calculated
          with exactitude beforehand. For this reason the French fleets were seldom able
          to combine effectively. But the difficulty of blockading both Brest and Toulon
          was great. Toulon, in particular, was so remote that any British force watching
          it was entirely out of touch with the Channel; and the blockaded squadron, if
          it escaped, could not be pursued immediately, since there was always doubt as
          to whether it would sail east or west; and this had to be ascertained before
          the British could move to the Channel. Bonaparte’s Egyptian schemes were
          well-known, and had been emphasised by Sebastiani’s report. When Spain ceased to be neutral in 1804, the difficulties of the
          British admirals were much augmented, as Cadiz and Cartagena both contained
          fleets and had to be masked or blockaded. But it was not necessary, as it had
          been when Spain joined France in the previous war, that the British navy should
          evacuate the Mediterranean.
          
        
        The Italian
          ports, with the exception of Naples and Sicily, were under French influence or
          in the hands of the French, while the coastline under French domination in the
          north of Europe extended beyond the limits of France proper as far as Hamburg
          and Bremen, which were more or less subject to French influence, through the
          French occupation of Hanover in 1803. As the war proceeded, practically the
          whole northern littoral of the Mediterranean became French, while in northern
          Europe French influence penetrated to the Baltic; so that, from the Niemen to
          Corfu, French bayonets repelled the British flag.
          
        
        Since the
          British navy was far better trained and prepared for war in 1803 than in 1793,
          the strategy adopted was bolder and mere determined. On the outbreak of war,
          the British fleets moved up to the hostile ports in the Atlantic and the
          Channel, and closely blockaded them. A force was at once directed against the
          French in San Domingo, whence the French Admiralty had already recalled most of
          their ships of the line. The British forces sufficed to defeat the French on
          the island, weakened as they were by disease and pressed on all sides by the
          negroes; and a naval blockade of the ports soon reduced them to starvation.
          
        
        The first
          hostile movement in European waters was made by Cornwallis, who on May 17, the
          day before the declaration of war, put to sea with ten sail of the line, and
          moved towards Brest. Next day, acting under an Order in Council of May 16,
          directing reprisals to be made against France, one of his cruisers captured a
          French vessel. The situation of the French fleet at this moment was critical,
          as nine sail of the line were on their way to France from San Domingo; of these
          one was captured in the West Indies; the remainder were expected by the British
          to sail for the Mediterranean, and preparations were made to meet them off Cape
          St Vincent. Contrary to expectation, they steered for the Bay of Biscay; two
          reached Rochefort; five more entered the Spanish harbour of Corunna; and the
          other stole into Cadiz. The British squadron detailed to attack them had
          received too precise instructions; and thus the war opened with a strategic
          check instead of with a naval victory. One reason for the British failure was the
          want of frigates, which throughout the campaign of 1803-5, as in that of 1798,
          hampered the British admirals at every turn. So many vessels were required for
          the protection of commerce that the fighting fleets were deprived of their
          necessary scouts; and Cornwallis was at times compelled to employ battleships
          in doing frigates’ work.
          
        
        The
          distribution of the French forces, before the return of the San Domingo fleet,
          was as follows. At Brest there were three ships of the line ready for sea, and
          fifteen approaching completion. At Lorient and Rochefort there were six ships
          completing. At Toulon there were three ready, and six nearing completion. Thus
          the French battleships were so much scattered that a great fleet action at the
          outset was impossible; and the blockade imposed by the British had to be
          accepted, until the squadrons could be reinforced. At Brest, Truguet was placed in command, to be succeeded later by
          Ganteaume, who at the outset commanded at Toulon. At an early date orders were
          issued by Bonaparte, directing his admirals constantly to weigh and anchor, so
          as to train the crews, or, if the enemy vanished, to put out for short cruises.
          
        
        The real
          offensive against England was to be directed by a flotilla of small craft,
          capable of conveying an invading force across the Channel in a single night.
          There were several stages in the development of the flotilla project. According
          to the first plan, a comparatively simple one, 310 armed craft of small size
          and light draft were to escort across the Straits of Dover a fleet of
          fishing-boats, carrying 100,000 men, the central idea being that small vessels
          could be rowed across in winter fogs or calms, when the sailing ships of the
          period were useless. This plan, however, was open to so many difficulties and
          dangers that good authorities have believed Bonaparte to have intended it
          merely as a demonstration. Against this view, which is based ultimately on the
          theory that he never made mistakes, many facts may be brought forward. The most
          convincing of these is the lavish expenditure not only on the flotilla but also
          on the construction of harbours of refuge along the northern coast of France.
          Excavations, basins, moles, and sluices were begun at Ambleteuse,
          Boulogne, Étaples, and Wimereux; and millions of
          francs were lavished upon them at a time when the French treasury was
          embarrassed for funds. Secondly, the French people looked anxiously to
          Bonaparte to end the war as speedily as possible, for, while it lasted,
          everything that had been won by the Revolution was at stake. Now the war could
          be rapidly ended only by an invasion of England. Thirdly, an invasion of
          England had frequently been contemplated before. That Bonaparte soon perceived
          some of the dangers of his flotilla project is perfectly clear; but, while he
          modified, he did not abandon his plans. He began to think out the means by
          which he could obtain temporary command of the straits.
          
        
        The idea of
          a transport flotilla of unarmed fishing craft, accompanied by a few small armed
          vessels, was given up almost at once; and the number of armed vessels was
          steadily increased. In May, 1803, there were to be, as we have seen, only 310
          fighting craft; in July the number rose to 1410, in August to 2008. It was
          anticipated that the flotilla might be ready by November, and that the armed
          vessels would be able to clear a way for it by driving off the British fleet.
          These anticipations were not fulfilled. When Bonaparte visited Boulogne in
          July, only fourteen vessels of the flotilla were ready at that place. Numerous
          skirmishes with the British frigates and small craft went on along the coast,
          the British showing persistent energy, and attacking the French boats whenever
          they ventured beyond the shelter of their coast batteries. In these encounters,
          the British almost always had the upper hand, thus revealing the grave military
          weakness of the flotilla. The French soldiers complained bitterly of the
          timidity and hesitation of their seamen; they did not see that the whole
          project was absurd, and that to ask men in boats to attack well-armed and
          skilfully handled ships was to demand impossibilities.
          
        
        In June, in
          a note to Decrès, his Minister of Marine, Bonaparte insisted on the necessity
          of having twenty battleships ready at Brest by November, and gave instructions
          for a large number of additional ships to be taken in hand. But he altogether
          overestimated his forces; in November only eight vessels were actually ready,
          so that Cornwallis had not the slightest difficulty in maintaining a close
          blockade at Brest, while other detachments watched Ferrol, whither the French
          vessels from Corunna and the West Indies had moved, and the Biscayan ports. It
          would appear from Bonaparte’s order that, so early as June, 1803, he intended
          his fleet to act in close concert with the flotilla, which was to be ready
          before the winter for the attempt on England. The fleet was not to be actually
          present in the Straits of Dover; it was to divert the attention of the British
          admirals by raids in other directions.
          
        
        In
          September, 1803, Bonaparte saw that the flotilla could not be counted upon by
          November, and postponed the date of action to January, 1804. At the same time
          he ordered Ganteaume at Toulon to be ready to put to sea with ten battleships,
          though as a matter of fact only seven were complete. In December Ganteaume was
          asked to give his opinion on the flotilla. It was extremely unfavourable; but
          he suggested that it might be possible for a handy, swift-sailing fleet to lead
          the enemy astray by feints, and then, by suddenly appearing in the Channel, to
          secure the command of the sea for two days, and so clear the way for the
          flotilla. The enterprise would be extremely bold and very hazardous; and the
          best way of accomplishing it would be either to sail round the north of Great
          Britain or run up the Channel past Brest, and appear in the Downs. Here we have
          the germ of the strategy subsequently pursued in the Trafalgar campaign. Six
          days later, in a letter to the admiral, Bonaparte disclosed his projects,
          giving a choice of three plans, all of which in substance involved a feint by
          the Toulon squadron in the direction of Egypt to mislead Nelson, and a gradual
          concentration of the French squadrons at Ferrol and Rochefort, to be effected
          by the Toulon fleet moving out of the Mediterranean and successively setting
          them free. The whole force thus concentrated was finally to appear off
          Boulogne, while the Brest fleet was to make feints at Ireland, so as to occupy
          Cornwallis’ attention. But, as Ganteaume shrewdly pointed out, the element of
          surprise would probably be wanting in so complicated a plan; and for the French
          to move into the Channel with anything larger than a flying squadron of a few
          fast ships would be to court disaster. The British could detach in pursuit
          forces “quadruple or quintuple” the strength of the French squadron.
          
        
        As its
          construction proceeded, the flotilla proved more and more untrustworthy and
          expensive. In November, 1803, Bonaparte went in person to Boulogne and made
          some unwelcome discoveries. If the plan of a surprise invasion was to be
          carried out, it was essential that the boats should be able to put to sea at
          the very shortest notice. But this involved keeping them outside the basin at
          Boulogne, since at the most only 100 boats could pass from the basin in any one
          tide. Outside the basin they were exposed to the British attacks and to injury
          by weather. Under the eyes of the First Consul five boats were wrecked by a
          storm; and the records prove that, for nearly six months, from November, 1803,
          to May, 1804, the flotilla only went out of the basin thrice and remained
          outside ten days in all. It had become a mere incumbrance, and had even ceased
          to cause the British admirals any serious alarm, so long as it was unsupported
          by a fleet of large ships. In April, 1804, the Boulogne flotilla was caught by
          a storm when outside the basin, and forty vessels were driven to Staples.
          Experience proved that at least six days would be required to get all the boats
          out of harbour, so that for that period it would be necessary to command the
          waters of the Channel; but, all through 1803-4, there was no period of six
          days’ continued fine weather. Thus the original idea of a surprise passage of the
          straits proved impracticable. Yet the outlay on the small craft and on the
          harbours continued; and Bonaparte refused to abandon his project, though he
          inclined more and more to the employment of the flotilla in conjunction with a
          squadron of large ships. His army in 1804 was concentrated between Brest and
          the Texel, waiting for the opportunity to embark; his fleets at Brest and
          Toulon were steadily increasing.
          
        
        Though the
          British Government did not seriously believe in the possibility of invasion,
          it neglected no precaution. In March, 1803, it had 250,000 men under arms on
          land, of whom 110,000 were regulars. The volunteer movement developed rapidly,
          though there was considerable doubt as to the military value of the forces
          which it produced; and in December, 1803, there were 463,000 men available in
          the three kingdoms belonging to this branch alone. Making heavy deductions, the
          Government could dispose of about 500,000 troops of all sorts during the period
          of danger, and could rapidly concentrate 100,000 of them against an invader
          disembarking on the south-east coast. Thus, even had the fleet been drawn off,
          as Bonaparte had originally contemplated, the position of Great Britain would
          have been tolerably secure.
          
        
        In the spring
          of 1804, fresh instructions were sent to Latouche-Treville,
          who had succeeded Ganteaume at Toulon, to put to sea. He was to elude Nelson by
          feinting at Egypt, to pick up the French ship of the line which was blockaded
          at Cadiz, then to make for Rochefort and set free the French ships in that
          port; after which he was to sail far out into the Atlantic, finally making a
          dash up the Channel past Cornwallis, as soon as the winds were favourable, and
          putting into Cherbourg. Ferrol and Brest were to be left blockaded. This plan
          contains all the characteristics of Napoleonic strategy: unexpected
          concentration of superior force at the point where that force could be used to
          the greatest advantage; feints to distract the enemy’s attention from that
          point; disregard of minor considerations. Its defects were that it made insufficient
          allowance for the energy of the British admirals, and that it assumed a degree
          of training and seamanship in the French navy which that force did not possess.
          Bonaparte counted confidently on the mismanagement of the British Admiralty, of
          which he had a very poor opinion, and he underestimated the military genius of
          Nelson.
          
        
        The date at
          which the French army of invasion was to cross was fixed by the First Consul
          for September, 1804. Feints would no longer be necessary, if a French
          battle-fleet could reach the Downs; but it was important to have good weather
          and long days for the operation. All through the spring and summer of 1804 the
          concentration of the flotilla in the neighbourhood of Boulogne was going painfully
          forward, under the guns of the British cruisers, which watched every movement
          of the French with lynx-eyed vigilance. But the sections of the flotilla which
          had been constructed on the littoral of the Bay of Biscay found the British
          fleet off Brest a fatal obstacle to their passage, and never succeeded in
          effecting their junction with the Channel division. Of 231 small craft, only 35
          reached the Channel from the Atlantic coast. In July, 1804, Bonaparte again
          visited Boulogne and inspected the flotilla. For a second time a storm occurred
          in his presence; the flotilla was scattered and thirteen vessels were lost;
          while, of forty boats at Étaples, nine had to be run ashore and several others
          were carried by the storm to various ports. The flotilla, even in summer, was
          the sport of the winds and waves.
          
        
        On the night
          of October 2, 1804, an attack was made by the British forces upon the flotilla
          in the Boulogne roads. Fire-ships and “catamarans”, a primitive kind of
          torpedo, were employed. Their explosion caused confusion in the French
          flotilla, but the loss of life was insignificant; and on the whole the French
          were rather encouraged than alarmed by this affair. From this point onwards the
          flotilla played but an unimportant part; and, though large sums were still
          devoted to it, it became more and more a mere subsidiary to the French fleet.
          
        
        The complete
          inactivity of the French fleets during 1803 and the earlier months of 1804 must
          in part be explained by the want of seamen and the lack of stores in the naval ports.
          Even when the ships were ready, it was impossible to send them to sea. The
          flotilla made heavy demands for funds and men; and thus its equipment militated
          against the efficiency of the fleet, a fact which Bonaparte never seems to have
          perceived. In May, 1804, complaining bitterly that Truguet remained immoveable at Brest, and allowed himself to be shut in by a small
          British force, he removed this officer and replaced him by Ganteaume. When
          Ganteaume took over the command at Brest in June, 1804, twenty ships were ready
          for sea, but only seven were fully manned; and, to fill up the gaps, it was
          necessary to put out of commission a large number of boats belonging to the
          western section of the flotilla. In September, 1804, Ganteaume was directed to
          report on the possibility of getting to sea in November, and carrying a force
          of 16,000 men to Ireland; but the coronation of Bonaparte as Emperor
          interrupted the project, and no answer from Ganteaume is recorded. As there
          were accidents whenever his vessels weighed anchor, his reply is not likely to
          have been favourable, though his force had now risen to twenty-one ships of the
          line.
          
        
        The strength
          of the Toulon squadron steadily rose; it numbered nine ships early in 1804; ten
          in the middle of that year; and eleven towards its close. On July 8, 1803,
          Nelson had arrived off Toulon, and had taken charge of the blockade of the port
          with a total force of nine ships, of which, however, four were frequently on
          detached duty. Only seven ships of the line were at first available for the
          blockade; and these were not in good condition, while their crews were weak,
          and, it would seem, in some cases of inferior quality. Reinforcements
          subsequently reached Nelson, raising the Mediterranean fleet to thirteen ships
          of the line; but he could rarely collect more than six off Toulon, and was
          always short of frigates. Owing to the inadequacy of this force, the blockade
          was not a close one. From time to time Nelson withdrew altogether to fill up
          his ships with water and provisions in Maddalena Bay, which was his real base.
          On these occasions he generally left two frigates to watch the French. His
          battleships were so few that it was unsafe for him to divide his squadron,
          while this method of blockade gave the French a chance of coming out; and it
          was his one wish to get them out and defeat them. The plan aroused great
          misgivings among British officers, because it unquestionably afforded openings
          for the escape of the French and a possible concentration of their forces in
          the Atlantic. But it was the best adaptation of the available means to the end;
          moreover, the escape of the French squadron from Toulon could not be so
          dangerous to British interests as the escape of the far larger and more
          formidable squadron in Brest. This last force was kept hermetically shut in by
          the closest possible blockade; but, had it been thoroughly trained and
          efficient, it might have found opportunities for escape. For, as Collingwood
          said— and subsequent experience confirmed his judgment—ships are not like sentinels
          standing at the door; there must be occasions when the greatest vigilance may
          fail in preventing a sortie.
          
        
        In the
          Mediterranean, the French made no move during 1803 and the early part of 1804.
          Nelson was now convinced that the French intended some fresh stroke against
          Egypt; Bonaparte’s skilfully-devised false information had put him off the true
          scent. The British Admiralty were receiving accurate information from their
          agents in France as to French intentions, but they do not appear to have communicated
          their intelligence to Nelson. St Vincent had been replaced as First Lord by
          Lord Melville; and Admiral Gambier was now First Sea-Lord. Gambier was an
          officer of inferior capacity and poor judgment; timid to excess, he prevented
          Cornwallis from carrying out a daring plan, which had been matured by Captain
          Puget, for an attack with fire-ships on the French fleet at Brest. Melville was
          a good administrator and understood the general outline of Bonaparte’s plan. He
          thought that a move against the West Indies was probable.
          
        
        In the
          autumn of 1804, relations between England and Spain became more than ever
          strained. The blockade of the French force at Ferrol was carried on by Cochrane
          with scant respect for Spain’s rights as a neutral. His haughty conduct was due
          to the hostile attitude of the Spaniards, who had given constant assistance to
          French privateers, and were reported to be fitting out a large number of ships
          in their dockyards, while they had permitted French gunners to be sent from
          France to the squadron blockaded at Ferrol. It was known that Napoleon was
          drawing a large subsidy from Spain, exempting her in return from the fulfilment
          of the other conditions of the Treaty of San Ildefonso, because he thought that
          French interests would on the whole be better served by such an attitude of
          benevolent neutrality on the part of the Spanish Government. This state of
          affairs the British ministry had hitherto tolerated; but Spain was warned that
          any serious armaments on her part would lead to war, and that without further
          negotiations or notice. As Spanish hostility always diminished when the
          treasure-ships from South America were drawing near to Europe, and increased
          after their safe arrival, and as the British agents, in September, 1804,
          reported great activity in the Spanish dockyards, the British Government
          issued instructions to seize four of these ships which were due at Cadiz. The
          British commander off Ferrol was also ordered to prevent Spanish vessels
          leaving or entering that port and to communicate his instructions to the
          Spanish authorities. On October 5 the treasureships were encountered off Cadiz by four British frigates. The Spanish commander was
          summoned to surrender, and disregarded the summons, the forces being equal on
          either side, though he was quite unprepared to resist. A short but furious
          action followed, in which one of the Spanish vessels, with a number of
          non-combatants on board, blew up; the other three were captured, with treasure
          valued at £1,000,000. The act was denounced as one of piracy, but, in the
          circumstances and in view of the plain warning given to Spain, it was
          justifiable, the only mistake being that an inadequate force was employed.
          
        
        War was
          reluctantly declared by Spain on December 12, under pressure from Napoleon. In the
          same month a Spanish official return gave the Spanish force available as
          fifteen ships of the line at Cadiz, eight at Cartagena, and nine at Ferrol; but
          two months would be required to get all these ships ready for sea. The arsenals
          were empty; at Cadiz the plague was raging; and there was a dire want of funds.
          
        
        The alliance
          with Spain modified the strategic position, and led Napoleon to make important
          changes in his plans. In September, 1804, he had appointed Villeneuve to the
          command of the Toulon squadron, and had detailed 7,000 men under General
          Lauriston to embark on board the fleet. To Decrès he sent instructions and
          plans for several expeditions. In the first place, the Rochefort squadron was
          to sail to the West Indies, in order to reinforce the French garrisons there
          and seize Dominica and Santa Lucia. The bulk of the Toulon fleet was
          simultaneously to seize Surinam, and afterwards to join the Rochefort squadron.
          The whole force, thus concentrated, was then to appear off San Domingo, attack
          Jamaica, return to Ferrol, and liberate the squadron in that port, finally
          putting in to Rochefort with twenty sail of the line. Lastly, the Brest fleet
          was to sail with 18,000 men for Ireland, and, after landing them, to move by
          either the northern or the southern route to the Texel or Boulogne. These
          plans, however, appear to have been intercepted by British agents, since they
          disappeared for several days and eventually turned up in a damaged envelope,
          with the postmark “Boulogne”. It has been suggested that Napoleon purposely
          allowed them to fall into British hands in order to divert British attention to
          Ireland; but this supposition is improbable, as the plans embodied many
          features of the combination which Villeneuve afterwards attempted to execute.
          On learning what had happened to his instructions, Napoleon ordered the Brest
          ships not to embark any troops, but to remain in readiness for sea.
          
        
        At the close
          of the year 1804 the French fleets were at last ready to act, though they still
          lacked trained seamen. The strain of continual watching was becoming very
          serious for England; and only young and active officers could have supported
          the hourly anxieties of such a blockade as was maintained. The strategy adopted
          was simple, yet well-adapted to the requirements of the situation. Every effort
          was concentrated upon the command of home waters. If the French fleets escaped,
          the British blockading squadrons were to follow them and bring them to action,
          or to fall back on the main force at the entrance to the Channel, thus securing
          England against invasion. Unfortunately, however, it was not found possible to
          secure an overwhelming preponderance in force in European waters; the British
          fleet was scattered, and a large number of ships of the line were on distant
          stations. The Allied force at the close of 1804 consisted of eleven ships ready
          at Toulon, five at Cartagena, ten nearly ready at Cadiz, five French and four
          Spanish at Ferrol, five at Rochefort, twenty-one at Brest, and three at the
          Texel. These were faced by twelve British battleships in the Mediterranean,
          thirty-seven under Cornwallis off Brest and in the Bay of Biscay, nine in the
          North Sea, and five in British ports. On foreign oi' distant service were
          twelve ships of the line. Thus the total battleship force of England was
          seventy-five ; that of the Allies was sixty-four.
          
        
        In European
          waters the British preponderance was extremely slight; and the question arises
          whether it was a wise disposition which placed seven ships of the line in the
          East Indies and five in the West Indies, when, if used in Europe, they might
          have prevented the escape of the French. The economic importance of the East and
          West Indies was, however, very great at this period—a fact which explains both
          Napoleon’s anxiety to conquer San Domingo, and the maintenance of so large a
          British force in distant waters. The Mediterranean fleet was the weakest of all
          the important British squadrons ; and Nelson was hampered in his work by the
          appointment of an influential but inefficient senior officer, Orde, to command
          off Cadiz. Orde impeded Nelson in various ways, and appropriated his cruisers
          whenever they came within reach, which prevented Nelson from keeping a ship on
          the look-out at Gibraltar.
          
        
        In December,
          1804, fresh instructions were sent by Napoleon to Missiessy,
          his admiral commanding at Rochefort, and to Villeneuve at Toulon. Both were to
          evade the British and immediately put to sea, the first standing for Martinique
          and the second for Cayenne. After forming a junction and doing as much harm as
          possible to the British possessions in the West Indies, they were to return to
          Ferrol, proceeding thence to Rochefort. The ultimate intention was that this
          concentrated force, in conjunction with the Spanish fleet and the Brest fleet,
          should cover the invasion of England. On January 18, 1805, Villeneuve, with
          eleven ships of the line and nine smaller craft, put to sea. His vessels were so
          crowded with troops and so deeply laden with stores that lie expressed grave
          fear as to their stability and the safety of their masts. Nelson had retired to
          Maddalena to water his fleet, and had only left two frigates on the look-out;
          so the way was open to the French. But, when Villeneuve had made one day’s sail
          to the south, he was caught by a severe storm; two of his battleships and two
          of the smaller craft lost masts or yards; and three frigates were accidentally
          separated from the fleet.
          
        
        Villeneuve,
          recognising that a long voyage with damaged ships was out of the question,
          decided to return to port and effect repairs. On his way back, he captured a
          small craft carrying despatches for Nelson from England. If, as is probable,
          the despatches contained the secret information as to the true intentions of
          Napoleon which we know to have been reaching the British Admiralty, Nelson must
          have been left in the dark as to the ulterior purpose of the French at the most
          critical moment of the whole campaign. In March, 1805, he complained that he
          had had no news from England of later date than November 2, 1804.
          
        
        As soon as
          he learnt that the enemy had put to sea, Nelson sailed from Maddalena Bay and
          cleared for battle, with the fixed resolve to bring them instantly to action.
          Learning from his cruisers that the French had been seen off Ajaccio, steering
          south, he concluded that they must be making for Egypt, as the wind was strong
          from the west, which would prevent their rapid movement through the Straits of
          Gibraltar. He hurried to Alexandria, heard nothing of them, and returned,
          overwhelmed with anxiety and fear, to discover that Villeneuve had been driven
          back to port by bad weather. Nelson’s letters show that, then and afterwards,
          he considered the various possible destinations of the French, and was
          determined to follow them without further orders, whether to the West or the
          East Indies. The danger to be apprehended from the arrival of a strong French
          force in the West Indies was in his judgment very great. “If St Lucia, Grenada,
          St Vincent, Antigua, and St Kitts... fall,” he had written, “in that case
          England would be so clamorous for peace that we should humble ourselves”; and
          this statement explains his subsequent action.
            
        
        On his
          return from Egypt, Nelson proceeded to the Gulf of Palma and provisioned there.
          Meanwhile Villeneuve put to sea again on March 30. Again the French squadron
          was followed and watched for some distance by the British cruisers; but again
          it disappeared from view. Villeneuve learnt from a neutral vessel where Nelson
          was, and avoiding him ran in to Cartagena, in order to join forces with the
          Spaniards. The Spanish admiral, however, had received no orders to put to sea
          with the French fleet, and declined to move till orders arrived. Unwilling to
          wait, Villeneuve hastened to the Straits of Gibraltar, and on April 9 passed
          through them, to the roar of the alarm-guns from the Rock. Nelson did not hear
          of his escape till April 4. He then deployed his fleet between Sardinia and the
          Algerian coast, in order to prevent any eastward movement on the part of the
          French, and to cover Egypt and Naples, and waited for information before
          sailing west or east.
          
        
        The greatest
          of Napoleon’s projects was now in train of execution. The complicated plans had
          been further modified. Two squadrons were to escape from port, and open the
          French movement. The proceedings of Villeneuve’s force have been described down
          to the second sortie in March. Missiessy’s detachment, consisting of five ships of the line and five small craft, put to
          sea from Rochefort on January 11, 1805, heavily laden with troops and stores,
          and proceeded to the Antilles. On the way across, it suffered the usual mishaps
          which befell French vessels whenever they moved; in three weeks the ships of his
          squadron lost nine masts or important spars. On February 20 Missiessy reached Martinique, and at once attacked the British island of Dominica ; but,
          though he took the British by surprise, he could not reduce the island. He
          seized or destroyed thirty-three British merchantmen, levied contributions upon
          the islets of St Kitts, Nevis, and Montserrat, and then returned to Martinique,
          where, according to his original instructions, he was to await Villeneuve. But,
          when Villeneuve was driven back after his first sortie, fresh orders were sent
          from France, which directed Missiessy not to expect
          help from Villeneuve, but to carry out his special mission independently: in
          other words, he was to convey some reinforcements to San Domingo and then
          return to Europe.
          
        
        It was Missiessy’s anxiety to obey these orders that prevented him
          from receiving a third despatch directing him, after all, to wait for
          Villeneuve. Villaret-Joyeuse, who commanded at
          Martinique, was desirous that Missiessy should assist
          him in the reduction of the Diamond Rock, an islet off the Martinique coast,
          where the British had a small post which annoyed passing French ships; and the
          delay which such an operation would have involved would have given time for the
          arrival of the third despatch. But Missiessy was
          anxious to get away; he feared that superior British forces were following in
          his wake; he thought, from the tone of his earlier orders, that his return to
          France was urgently required; and he pointed out that he had already stayed in
          the West Indies longer than had been intended. Accordingly he sailed off' to
          San Domingo, where he landed a few men and some stores, and then returned to
          Rochefort, making a very slow passage and reaching that port on May 20. He had
          been five months at sea and, for all practical purposes, had done nothing
          beyond causing great alarm in England and the British West Indies, and
          obtaining some 60,000 by the sale of prizes and by contributions levied on the
          British.
          
        
        Through the
          latter half of 1804 and the first weeks of 1805 embarrassments had been
          accumulating about Napoleon’s path. The attitude of Austria was becoming more
          and more threatening, as the general feeling in that country was that any
          failure of the French to invade England would bring about a war on the Continent
          by way of diversion. Relations between France and Russia were already broken
          off in consequence of the execution of the Due d’Enghien;
          and a personal appeal which the French Emperor addressed to George III, with
          the probable object of strengthening the hands of the British Opposition, was
          answered by a curt refusal to discuss terms of peace without consulting Russia
          and the Continental Powers. Under these menacing conditions, Napoleon, early in
          January, 1805, appears for a moment to have abandoned the invasion project.
          Orders were sent recalling Missiessy; and
          instructions were despatched to Villeneuve to undertake a movement against
          India. But, just after these despatches had been forwarded, the situation
          changed once more. A letter from the Austrian Emperor which arrived at Paris at
          the end of January reassured Napoleon, and led him to resume the “immense
          project”—his own term for the complicated plan of invasion. The orders to Missiessy were revoked; but the counterorder, as we have
          seen, reached the West Indies too late.
          
        
        A fresh
          series of orders, dated March 2, 1805, directed Ganteaume to put to sea with
          twenty-one battleships as speedily as possible, to sail to Ferrol and open that
          port, capturing eight British vessels which were watching it, and to form a
          junction with the ten or eleven French and Spanish ships now ready in the
          harbour. He was then to stand away for Martinique, where the Rochefort and
          Toulon fleets would be found; and then, instantly returning to Europe with at
          least forty sail of the line, to beat the British fleet off Ushant and move up
          to Boulogne, there to cover the passage of Napoleon’s army. On the same day
          further instructions were sent to Villeneuve; and these are of great
          importance, being the last he received before putting to sea for the second
          time on March 30. They directed him to move from Toulon, pick up the Spaniards
          at Cadiz, and proceed to Martinique, there to meet Ganteaume and Missiessy. If Villeneuve arrived before Ganteaume, he was
          to remain at Martinique, ready to put to sea at a signal; after waiting forty
          days, in case Ganteaume had not appeared, he was to move by San Domingo to the
          Canaries, to cruise off the Canaries twenty days, and then to return to Cadiz,
          in the event of nothing having been seen of Ganteaume. Though every precaution
          was taken to keep these orders secret, they were known to the agents of England
          and the Bourbons even before they had reached their destination. “The fleets”,
          wrote the mysterious “fils d'ami”
          of d’Antraigues, on March 1, “are to move against the
          West Indies and to attack Jamaica. England will know in eight days the exact
          facts which I tell you... She places entire faith in these sources of
          information at Paris; she has found them too trustworthy in the past not to
          show such faith”. Thus there is good contemporary evidence that the British
          secret service was fully informed as to Napoleon’s intentions. But these facts
          do not appear to have been communicated at once to the British admirals,
          perhaps because of the confusion at the Admiralty at this juncture, owing to
          the attack on Lord Melville, which culminated in the vote of censure of April
          8.
          
        
        Napoleon had
          hitherto based all his plans on evading the British naval forces. His fleets
          were ordered to leave port without fighting; but this, in the case of the Brest
          force, was out of the question, so closely did the large British fleet watch
          that place. Yet, at times, the blockading fleet fell much below the strength of
          the blockaded ; and, had they been allowed to fight, the French had
          opportunities, which in consequence of Napoleon’s orders they were unable to
          use. On March 24 Ganteaume telegraphed to Napoleon that he was ready to sail
          with twenty-one ships, and that there were only fifteen British ships outside;
          there must be a battle if he went out, but his success was certain. Napoleon
          replied, directing him to go out but forbidding him to fight a battle. This
          reluctance to run an insignificant risk at one of the most critical moments
          tied the Brest fleet thereafter to harbour. The lost opportunity never
          recurred, though at a later date Ganteaume was ordered not to shrink from
          fighting his way out. Dispirited by the threatening attitude of the British
          admiral, who a few days later received large reinforcements, Ganteaume on March
          29 retired from Bertheaume Bay to the interior of
          Brest harbour; and, when inside, received too late the news that Villeneuve was
          at sea, with pressing orders for himself to go out.
          
        
        Meanwhile
          Villeneuve, after passing the Straits of Gibraltar, appeared on April 9 off
          Cadiz. There he was joined on the same day by one French ship of the line and
          by six Spanish ships under Admiral Gravina, raising
          his total force to eighteen vessels of the line. He was anxious to put as great
          a distance as possible between his ships and Nelson’s, “as the enemy’s squadron
          in the Mediterranean must be in pursuit of me, and may be able to effect a
          junction with that which has been blockading Cadiz”. As a matter of fact Orde’s
          squadron, consisting of four ships of the line, narrowly escaped capture, and
          fled north without keeping touch with the Allies or sending information to
          Nelson, thus rendering that officer’s task harder than ever, since he was left
          to grope in the dark for the destination of the French. On April 11 Villeneuve
          was well on his way to the West Indies, but with only one of the Spanish ships
          in company. The Spaniards sailed wretchedly; and, if there had been any British
          pursuit, they must have been captured one by one. Napoleon was filled with
          satisfaction at the news that the junction with the Spaniards had been
          effected, and sent off pressing orders for Admiral Magon to start with two ships of the line from Rochefort and join Villeneuve at
          Martinique. He added further instructions which ordered Villeneuve to spend
          thirty-five days, after Magon’s arrival, in the West
          Indies, to employ the time in attacking the British inlands, and after that
          interval to return to Ferrol if Ganteaume did not appear. From Ferrol he was to
          go to Brest and there join Ganteaume, even at the risk of battle. Villeneuve
          reached Martinique on May 14, having occupied more than a month on the passage,
          and in conformity with his original orders, Magon had
          not yet joined him, took in water and made ready to put to sea as soon as
          Ganteaume should appear.
          
        
        The alarm
          was great in London at this juncture. The Admiralty was distracted by the
          political attack which, at this moment, the Opposition were making upon the
          purity of its financial management. The First Lord, Melville, had resigned on
          April 9; and further complication followed, when, with utter disregard of
          national interests, Lord Sidmouth claimed the office for one of his supporters
          in the Ministry, and strongly opposed Pitt’s appointment of Admiral Sir Charles
          Middleton (Lord Barham). Fortunately, Pitt stood firm; and his judgment was
          vindicated by events. The precautionary measures taken by Barham were as
          follows. Cochrane, with six battleships, had left in March for the West Indies,
          where four British battleships were already stationed, in order to deal with Missiessy; and on April 27 a secret order was issued by the
          Admiralty to Gardner, then in temporary command off Brest, to detach Admiral
          Collingwood with five ships to Madeira. If Nelson with his fleet had not passed
          that point going west, he was to move to the West Indies and effect a junction
          with Cochrane, which would raise the force in the West Indies to fifteen
          battleships. If Nelson had passed, Collingwood was to rejoin the Channel fleet. At the same time orders were sent to the ports to expedite
          the fitting out of all available ships. A few days later, Orde was removed from
          his command; and Collingwood was directed to make at once with eight sail for
          Barbados. But, before he could leave, the news that Nelson was moving in pursuit
          of the French led to counter-orders.
          
        
        That admiral
          had been searching the Mediterranean for Villeneuve; nor was it till April 18
          that he heard that the enemy had passed through the Straits, steering west and
          picking up the Spanish ships at Cadiz. The fact that the Spaniards, of whose
          incapacity at sea Nelson was fully aware, were in Villeneuve’s company, seemed
          to point to a move towards Ferrol and Brest and Ireland; and he at once decided
          to make for the Scilly Isles, from which point he could cover the Channel. He
          was detained for several days by unfavourable winds and by the necessity of
          convoying 5000 British troops on their way from England to the Mediterranean;
          but he used the delay to fill up with provisions and water. On May 10 he at
          last received from Admiral Campbell, a British officer in the Portuguese
          service, information which convinced him that the French were bound for the
          West Indies. Sending in all directions the information that he was following
          Villeneuve, he started with ten sail of the line “ to save the West Indies.” So
          far was he from being “decoyed” away, that the mere news that he was on his
          passage caused a feeling of immense relief in England.
          
        
        Notwithstanding
          the foul condition of his ships, so swiftly did Nelson make the passage that on
          June 4 he was at Barbados, where he picked up two battleships, raising his
          force to twelve. His arrival was speedily reported to Villeneuve, who in
          obedience to his orders had waited at Martinique, utilising his stay to effect
          the capture of the Diamond Rock. Receiving, however, from Magon Napoleon’s later instructions to drive the British from the Antilles, he set
          sail for Barbados, intending to attack that island. On June 8 Villeneuve
          captured a British convoy, and learnt from prisoners that Nelson was in the
          neighbourhood with a force represented at from twelve to fourteen ships. This
          intelligence filled him with something approaching panic; and, after a conference
          with Gravina, he decided to return forthwith to
          Ferrol. The Spanish crews were daily diminishing through sickness and
          desertion; and a prolonged stay might have forced him to abandon some of the
          Spanish ships. He sent back, in frigates, the troops embarked at Martinique and
          Guadeloupe, and hurried off to Europe with twenty sail of the line. He was
          fortunate in not being molested on his passage; but this he owed to the fact
          that Nelson was led by false information to make a move to Trinidad. On June 12,
          however, Nelson heard that the French had disappeared, and, with the judgment
          of a consummate commander, at once divined their course of action—if indeed
          definite information did not reach him from the British secret-service agents
          at Martinique, where Villaret appears to have been
          dangerously talkative. He sent off a fast vessel with news for the Admiralty,
          and himself followed with his squadron. His fast ship sighted the Allies on her
          passage, and was thus able to carry to London exact information of the enemy’s
          movements.
          
        
        Nelson was
          off the Spanish coast on July 18, steering for Gibraltar, and, after
          provisioning his ships and conferring with Collingwood, who had moved up to
          Cadiz, sailed slowly northwards to the entrance of the Channel with his fleet,
          being much delayed by unfavourable winds, so that he did not form his junction
          with Cornwallis till August 15. His return to Europe had a disconcerting effect
          on Napoleon, who at first flatly refused to credit it or to believe that the
          start gained by Villeneuve- had been absolutely lost. Meanwhile the British
          Admiralty, having received Nelson’s information as to the French movements,
          issued orders to Cornwallis to reinforce the British fleet off Ferrol, under
          Calder, by adding to it the squadron blockading Rochefort, after which Calder
          was to move to the west of Ferrol with fifteen battleships, so as, if possible,
          to intercept the allied fleet. It was a fresh complication and source of danger
          to the British that Allemand, who had replaced Missiessy, put to sea from Rochefort on July 17, as soon as
          the blockaders vanished, just missing orders which were sent him from Paris at
          the last moment to sail direct for Ferrol, and acting on earlier instructions,
          which ordered him to cruise on the parallel of Ferrol from July 29 to August 3,
          and after this for ten days in the Bay of Biscay, when he was to put into Vigo.
          It was unfortunate for the French that he sailed without knowing that
          Villeneuve was expected back forthwith at Ferrol; and so it happened that he cruised
          at no great distance from Calder, without being near enough to be present at
          the battle of Finisterre.
          
        
        On July 22,
          in foggy weather, Calder sighted the allied fleet. He had but fifteen ships to
          their twenty, though he had been given to understand that they would not have
          more than sixteen, and he had good reason to fear that the Rochefort ships
          might at any moment appear and form a junction with the enemy. He was a
          mediocre commander, incapable of bold or decided action, and unequal to the
          strain of so perilous a position.
          
        
        He joined
          battle, however, forming his fleet in a line in close order, while the enemy
          also slowly formed a line. A confused, scrambling action resulted, ship
          fighting ship in a thick fog that rendered unity of control impossible. As
          darkness fell, two Spanish ships in the allied rear struck and were taken
          possession of by the British, whose losses in killed and wounded amounted to
          199, while the Allies lost 476. Thus, though the issue was not decisive, the
          Allies had the worst of the battle. At daylight on the 23rd the two fleets were
          still in sight of each other; but neither admiral would attack—Calder because
          he wanted to cover and secure his prizes; Villeneuve, because, if his excuses
          are to be believed, he thought he could not reach the British before nightfall,
          and did not care to risk a night action. Thereupon, imagining that the British
          would receive reinforcements, he decided to shape his course to Ferrol. Thus
          the two fleets parted without decisive results, though the allied ships
          received such injuries that they were compelled forthwith to make for a port.
          Villeneuve asserted that Calder had fled before him; and this report, being
          credited in England, led to a bitter outcry against the latter. Yet Calder had
          fought fairly against considerable odds; his position was one of great anxiety;
          and, if his success was not in the same class with Nelson’s victories, it was
          at least worthy of comparison with Lord Howe’s victory of June 1 and Hotham’s
          Mediterranean actions. He was subsequently court-martialled and severely
          censured for his behaviour—such an effect had Nelson’s tactics produced on
          public opinion.
            
        
        After the
          action, Calder proceeded to blockade Ferrol, but was perplexed by finding no
          sign of Villeneuve there on July 29. The French admiral had sailed to Vigo, to
          disembark his numerous sick and take on board food and water. Leaving behind
          him three of his worst ships, he put to sea on July 31 with fifteen sail; and,
          as Calder had been blown off the station by a storm, he managed to slip into
          Corunna without a battle and form a junction with the fleet inside, now
          fourteen strong. On August 9 Calder discovered that the French were inside
          Corunna in great force; and, holding himself too weak to keep them in, he fell
          back upon the Channel fleet, which, with Calder’s and Nelson’s ships, now
          reached a total of thirty-seven sail of the line. Cornwallis, however, after
          all his brilliant work in the blockade, committed at this point a blunder which
          might have proved fatal against any antagonist but Villeneuve and the
          disorganised Franco-Spanish fleet. He divided his force into two squadrons :
          one, consisting of twenty ships, he sent to Ferrol to meet Villeneuve, who was
          reported to be twenty-eight sail strong; the other, of seventeen ships, he kept
          with his flag off Brest. Had Villeneuve put to sea and appeared off Brest with
          the thirty-four effective sail which, including Allemand’s squadron, he could have collected, Cornwallis, caught between this force and Ganteaume’s twenty-one sail inside the port, must have been
          compelled to retire or have sustained a great defeat.
          
        
        But
          Villeneuve did not proceed to Brest; nor did he even effect a junction with Allemand, for a cruiser sent off with instructions to the
          latter’s rendezvous was snapped up by the British almost in sight of both the
          French fleets. Allemand wandered aimlessly about the
          Bay of Biscay, out of touch with his colleagues, and performing no useful
          service. Villeneuve had been forbidden by Napoleon to go into Ferrol, and had
          some difficulty in getting his ships out of Corunna; both he and Gravina now despaired of success. He complained that he had
          “bad masts, bad sails, bad officers, and bad seamen... obsolete naval tactics;
          we only know one manoeuvre, to form line, and that is just what the enemy wants
          us to do”. When he started to move out of Corunna, his ships collided with each
          other, and fresh trouble ensued. It took him five days, from August 8 to 13, to
          get the fleets at Ferrol and Corunna to sea.
          
        
        On his
          moving westward, with a total force of twenty-nine sail of the line, fortune
          once more played the French a cruel trick; on August 14 several of Allemand’s squadron were sighted to the north, and were
          mistaken for British ships; at the same time Allemand mistook Villeneuve for his enemy. But for this mutual misunderstanding, the two
          would have met; the French fleet would have risen to thirty-four sail of the
          line; and the despondency of Villeneuve might have been removed by a real
          success. As it was, feeling that he had no chance of carrying out “the immense
          project,” and finding that the wind was dead against him, Villeneuve on the
          15th turned south to Cadiz, in obedience to the express orders of Napoleon,
          bearing date July 16, which directed him, in the event of unforeseen
          circumstances, or if the position of the fleet did not permit him to attain the
          main object, to concentrate an imposing force at Cadiz. These orders had been
          subsequently cancelled; but news of the fact had not reached Villeneuve. He was
          short of supplies, short of everything; and mishap succeeded mishap in the
          Spanish contingent. On August 20 he drove off Collingwood and entered Cadiz,
          where his force rose to thirty-five, counting the six Spanish ships already
          inside that harbour. A few hours later, with stupefying audacity, the
          imperturbable Collingwood once more closed in on the harbour, though his total
          force was only three sail of the line; and Villeneuve accepted this truly
          remarkable blockade. Powerful reinforcements for Collingwood were hurried
          south; and Nelson, after a brief visit to England, was despatched to Cadiz to
          take command in what was to be the last and greatest battle of his glorious
          life.
          
        
        For Napoleon
          the summer of 1805 had been a period of great suspense, as he was obliged to face
          at once towards Austria and England. On August 3 he arrived at Boulogne; five
          days later he learnt of the battle of Finisterre, and at first expressed
          satisfaction at Villeneuve having effected a junction with the Ferrol fleet. On
          second thoughts, he despatched a letter to Villeneuve, blaming him for his weak
          conduct; and on the 13th, supposing the admiral to be at Ferrol, ordered him to
          attack the British, provided the Allies could oppose twentyeight ships to the British twenty-three or fewer. For the first time since he devised
          “the immense project”, he contemplated a great naval battle. The explanation of
          this sudden change in his designs is probably that he saw the extreme danger of
          risking an invasion of England without the command of the sea, now that Nelson
          was back and Austria was preparing for war. A naval engagement must be won
          before he could cross the Channel; while, if the battle were lost, it would
          justify his abandonment of the flotilla scheme without any loss of reputation,
          since the blame of the disaster would naturally be laid on the unsuccessful
          admiral. Subsequent orders, dated August 13 and 14, directed Villeneuve to
          attack the enemy, who were supposed to have but twenty-four ships, and then to
          move up to the Channel, where “we are ready everywhere ; his appearance for
          twenty-four hours will suffice.
          
        
        Napoleon had
          imagined a picture of the British dispositions which was far from the truth.
          Nelson and Collingwood were in the Mediterranean; a large British force was in
          the West Indies; there could be nothing in Villeneuve’s way. But these messages
          and orders did not reach the French admiral at Corunna; it was not till he was
          at Cadiz that he knew he was expected to fight. Meanwhile Ganteaume was
          directed to move his ships out of Brest and to be ready for a battle when
          Villeneuve drew near. On August 22 a message was sent by semaphore, to be given
          to Villeneuve when he appeared at Brest, urging him to come up Channel at once,
          the army being embarked and England at his mercy. Napoleon directed that, if
          Villeneuve, in obedience to the earlier orders, should have fallen back to
          Cadiz, he was immediately to leave that port, with the Spanish ships there and,
          if possible, with the ships at Cartagena, and sail for the Channel. Decrès,
          however, filled with misgivings as to the invasion project, adjured the Emperor
          not to bring the combined fleet north at that season of the year, but to regard
          its arrival at Cadiz as “ the decree of destiny, which reserves the fleet for
          other purposes”.
          
        
        Written on
          August 22, this letter appears to have decided Napoleon. Though he still wished
          to wait fifteen days before moving against Austria, his cavalry began on the
          24th to march off to the Rhine, and was followed on the 26th and 28th by other
          portions of the array. On the 30th the flotilla was ordered to be concentrated
          in the Liane—a fact which indicated the postponement of the invasion; on
          September 1 letters were sent to Villeneuve criticising his conduct and
          directing him to take on board six months’ provisions, to “dominate the coasts
          of Andalusia”, and to attack the enemy, if of inferior force. On September 8 a
          letter in Napoleon’s correspondence contains, for the first time, the
          allegation that Villeneuve’s movement to Cadiz had defeated the project of
          invasion. It is sufficient comment to point out that on August 28, before he
          knew of Villeneuve’s move southward to Cadiz, Napoleon had written that the
          “army is in full march” against Austria.
            
        
        In reality,
          it was Nelson’s swift movements, the Austrian diversion in Napoleon’s rear, and
          the hopeless unseaworthiness of the flotilla, that dictated the abandonment of
          the “immense project.”
          
        
        The final
          act in the great drama was yet to be played. On September 28 Nelson in the
          Victory joined the fleet off Cadiz. He at once convened his captains and laid
          before them his arrangement for the battle. Such enthusiasm did his plans
          excite, so extraordinary was his influence, that some of his audience were
          moved to tears. The whole fleet was filled with exultation at the fact that he
          commanded it; a thrill of enthusiasm ran through the crews; and, as a small
          token of their regard for him, the captains painted their ships the colour he
          preferred. With true generalship, though he judged
          his force adequate for victory, Nelson sought to obtain a fleet which would
          secure “not victory but annihilation”. And, just as Napoleon at the opening of
          his Italian campaign strove to attract to himself all available force, so
          Nelson begged his Government to send him ships, more ships, so that he might
          have the largest fleet possible at the vital point in contact with the enemy.
          “It is only numbers that can annihilate”, he wrote to Lady Hamilton. Various
          detachments, however, among others the despatch of a division to take in water
          and provisions at Gibraltar, reduced his force, in mid-October, to twenty-seven
          sail of the line.
          
        
        The attack
          which he meditated, and the details of which he had communicated to his
          officers, was a double cutting of the enemy’s line and concentration upon its
          centre and rear, leaving the van out of the fight. If reinforcements joined him
          in time, he intended to attack in three separate columns and to effect a treble
          severance; but, as the reinforcements had not reached him, he formed his fleet
          in two divisions, the second led by Collingwood, who had full authority to
          manage his own part of the battle. The central idea was that, having lured the
          enemy out of Cadiz, he should pass through them with one division of his fleet
          in line abreast, covered by the other in line ahead, get to leeward, and cut
          them off from that port—a manoeuvre which would make a decisive engagement
          certain. In order to mislead the Allies as to his strength, Nelson kept only a
          small force close to the port; the bulk of his fleet cruised far away in the
          offing, out of sight of the coast, linked to the squadron inshore by a chain of
          cruisers and battleships.
          
        
        On October
          19 Villeneuve, having heard that Rosily had been sent to supersede him,
          determined to obey the orders of Napoleon and issue forth, his intention being
          to form a junction with the ships at Cartagena. His force comprised
          thirty-three sail of the line; but the crews of the French ships were short of
          their establishment by 2200 men, and the Spanish vessels were in even worse
          plight. Provisions were so scarce, in consequence of the strict blockade, that
          his crews were on the verge of starvation. Nelson made no premature attack when
          he learnt that the Allies were moving. He fell back, trusting to his cruisers
          to keep good touch, and headed for the Straits of Gibraltar to cut his enemy
          off from the Mediterranean. On the 20th he was in sight of Gibraltar; and there
          the last conferences were held on board the Victory.
          
        
        At noon on
          that day the allied fleet turned and steered south. Nelson watched them closely
          all that afternoon and night; the 21st he had selected for the battle, as a day
          glorious in the annals of his family. At 6.30 a.m. on the 21st he made the
          signal to form line of battle in two divisions, the left or windward division
          under his own personal command, eleven ships strong; the right or leeward one
          under Collingwood, fifteen strong, while one ship was far off to the north. A
          little later came the order to prepare for battle, followed by another to “bear
          up east” towards the Franco-Spanish fleet. The British fleet mustered
          twenty-seven sail of the line, with a broadside of 29,000 lbs.; the allied
          fleet thirty-three ships, with a broadside of 30,000 lbs. The morning was grey
          and cloudy; a light wind blew from the north-west; and a great swell rolled
          booming in upon the cliffs of Cape Trafalgar, which showed to the eastward out
          of the mists of morning.
            
        
        As the
          British drew nearer, Villeneuve, who had been heading southward, changed his
          course and stood north, seeing that a battle was inevitable, and wisely
          deciding to fight with a friendly port under his lee. His ships formed a long
          line, bent at an obtuse angle, the ends inclining inwards to the approaching
          British fleet. At the head of each British column sailed its admiral, Nelson to
          the left in the Victory; Collingwood to the right in the Royal Sovereign. Under
          Nelson’s leadership the spirit of the fleet had risen to a degree of exaltation
          which was in itself the presage of victory. Nelson, as he went to battle,
          declared to a friend that he looked for twenty prizes; the captains jested with
          each other as to the ships which they should capture. The approach was slow and
          tedious to excited nerves; while it proceeded, Nelson prepared the final
          codicil to his will and wrote his last prayer, in which he asked for a great
          and glorious victory, with no misconduct in his fleet. His final orders to the
          frigates accompanying him show the sternness of his spirit and its remorseless
          insistence upon gathering in the full fruits of victory. These lighter vessels
          were not to save ships or men; they were to complete the enemy’s annihilation;
          “capture was but a secondary object.”
          
        
        As the
          fleets drew nearer, Nelson was entreated by his personal friends to cover the
          orders which he wore on his coat, since in naval actions of that date the
          leader was exposed to the enemy’s fire at close quarters, and his decorations
          would attract the aim of their marksmen. He refused to comply with this request
          or to move to a light ship where the danger would be less, giving as his reason
          the importance of a great example in the leader. About 11 o’clock, perceiving
          that stormy weather was to be expected, he signalled to prepare to anchor, and
          soon afterwards made the last great appeal of his life to those he led, in the
          famous signal “England expects that every man will do his duty”. Originally he
          had intended a different and perhaps warmer appeal, cast in a form which
          expressed not expectation but certainty—“Nelson confides that everyman will do
          his duty”. But, even in its altered form, the signal evoked a zeal and spirit
          like his own; “it seemed like inspiration to most of them”. The last and
          invariable order of the Nelson battle, “Engage more closely”, followed just
          before the firing began. These, with the possible exception of an intimation to
          Collingwood that he meant to feint against the allied van, were all the
          important signals of that morning, illustrating the perfect forethought of the
          admiral, the complete preparation for all contingencies.
          
        
        The bands
          played in the British ships as they went down to battle, in irregular lines,
          with little precision of formation. Just before closing, Collingwood, whose
          column, owing to the enemy’s formation, was now nearly parallel with the allied
          rear, gave the signal to bear up together, i.e. to turn to the right and attack
          as nearly simultaneously as possible. Nelson’s column was still in line ahead,
          slightly converging on that of Collingwood. The first gun was fired by accident
          in a British ship; the next shots were fired by the Allies about midday at the
          Royal Sovereign, as she approached in advance of her line. A dense cloud of
          smoke gathered round their line as it moved north; Collingwood reserving his
          fire, headed for the twelfth ship from their rear, but at the last moment
          swerved and made for the thirteenth, which was larger. The Allies were in the
          closest possible order; but Collingwood was not to be denied. He drove straight
          ahead, ready to carry away the bowsprit of the French vessel astern of his
          quarry; and the Frenchman gave way before his unflinching tenacity.
          
        
        From the
          Victory the Royal Sovereign was seen to vanish amidst a tempest of firing in
          the thick cloud of smoke; then her tall masts showed on the further side of the
          line, and it was known that Collingwood had gloriously performed his task. Some
          minutes followed before support reached her; but Nelson’s confidence in his
          subordinate was justified. The Royal Sovereign's fire was deadly; it tore down
          the stern of the Santa Ana, and caused great execution in the press of hostile
          ships gathering round her. Her friends followed eagerly to her aid; there was
          no hanging back in the line; and as, one by one, the other ships judiciously
          brought their broadsides to bear, the battle in the rear began to go decisively
          in favour of the British.
          
        
        On the left,
          Nelson watched with intense admiration Collingwood’s fierce onset, as the
          Victory slowly covered the space between the fleets. He feinted towards the
          French van, as he came within range, probably with the object of holding it
          inactive, and then turned sharply to the right and, after passing some distance
          down the enemy’s line, turned left and broke through, driving his flagship
          through the smoke and flame, and suffering heavy loss as the French guns raked
          him. He passed under the stern of the tenth ship in the allied line, the Bucentaure, pouring into her a raking fire, which
          brought clouds of dust and splinters from her hull. Then, after penetrating the
          allied line, he turned to starboard again and dropped on board a French 74, the Redoutable. It was about 12.20 p.m. when the
          Victory broke the French line.
          
        
        When the
          leaders had struck the enemy’s line and passed through it without disabling
          loss, the battle might be considered won. Of necessity, in such a scheme of
          action, the heads of the British columns would suffer most heavily in the
          approach; and this is doubtless the reason why Nelson led himself with
          Collingwood, on whose iron nerve he could absolutely rely. But, when the line
          was penetrated, generalship ceased for the moment;
          the rest was the work of the captains, to whom full initiative had been
          conceded. The logs prove that they too showed judgment and energy worthy of
          their leaders, breaking boldly through the hostile line wherever they thought
          their efforts would tell most, or moving without further orders to meet the
          enemy’s van, when it at last began to threaten the British ships in the centre
          of the fight. The battle of Trafalgar is the most perfect example of initiative
          among subordinates, as it is of the leader’s scientific use of his weapons,
          that is to be found in the whole naval war. Though the details of the attack
          have been much disputed, especially in regard to the question whether the
          method indicated in Nelson’s previous instructions was precisely followed or
          not, there is no doubt that its greatest merit—what he himself called “the
          Nelson touch”—consisted in the concentration of an overpowering force upon the
          rear half of the enemy’s fleet, the bold occupation of the enemy’s van with a
          force numerically inferior (under his immediate command) so as to leave his lee
          column free to do its work, and the handling of both columns in such a way as
          to prevent the enemy, till the last moment, from knowing how the attack was to
          be made.
          
        
        Villeneuve’s
          tactics, on the other hand, were of the simplest description. He intermingled
          the French and Spanish ships, to prevent misconduct on the part of the latter,
          and then adopted a passive attitude, dictated, no doubt, by his officers’ want
          of skill and practice in manoeuvring. As he had said at an earlier date, there
          was but one evolution of which they were capable, and this was forming line.
          But, if the leadership throughout the fleet was indifferent or bad, there was
          no want of individual courage. The French and Spanish seamen displayed the
          greatest bravery, and suffered terrible losses before they could be induced to
          strike.
            
        
        The first French
          ship struck about 1 p.m., soon after the engagement had become general; it fell
          to Collingwood. From this hour onward, the frigates watching the battle saw a
          steady succession of surrenders; one two-decker at 1.35; two ships to the Victory and Téméraire at 1.50; “several” at 2 o’clock.
          With each surrender the demoralisation of the allied fleet and the confidence
          of the British increased. But these results were not won without great loss to
          the British, both in officers and men. A few minutes before the resistance of
          his antagonist in the French line was overcome, Nelson, while walking the
          Victory's quarterdeck, was struck by a bullet from the Redoutable's top and mortally wounded. He fell with the words “They have done for me at
          last”, and was borne below. His intellect remained unclouded for two hours,
          during which, again and again, he urged his flag-captain to give the order to
          anchor. About three he was told that a great and decisive battle had been
          gained; that fifteen of the enemy had been taken, and that no British ship had
          struck. The ruling spirit was strong even in death, and he cried that he had
          looked for twenty prizes. A little later consciousness ebbed from him; and with
          the last words “God and my country”, this great servant of England passed away.
          
        
        His presence
          was sorely needed in the last stage of the battle, to complete the victory
          which his genius had gained. The French van, five ships strong, turned and
          attacked the confused mass of British ships struggling with the allied centre.
          A large part of the British fleet was still intact, and might have been used to
          crush this detachment. But Collingwood, though incomparable as a subordinate,
          did not possess the force and decision of Nelson, and let the opportunity slip.
          Again, when the shattered French and Spanish ships in the centre and rear fled
          towards Cadiz, no general pursuit was ordered or attempted. Had Nelson been
          alive, it is doubtful if one of them would have been permitted to escape. The
          logs show continued signals at the end of the battle to the British ships,
          which, acting on their own initiative, were attempting pursuit, to “close round
          the admiral”; and, as night came down, Collingwood committed a final blunder in
          refusing to anchor his prizes.
          
        
        The serious
          fighting ended with the repulse of the French van about three. Spasmodic firing
          continued till five, when the French ship Achille blew up with a terrific
          report. Of the allied fleet, thirty-three ships of the line strong, one French
          ship blew up after she had struck, eight French ships and nine Spanish were
          taken. Four French vessels escaped to the north; eleven, French and Spanish,
          ran eastwards to Cadiz. After the battle a violent storm set in, in consequence
          of which three of the prizes, with insufficient crews on board and in a
          shattered condition, were either recaptured by their own men or handed over by
          the British prize-crews, as the only way to keep them afloat and save the lives
          of all, while ten were wrecked or destroyed by their captors; so that
          ultimately only four ships remained in the hands of the victors. The British
          loss was 449 killed, and 1241 wounded; while that of the Allies, though never
          exactly ascertained, is stated to have reached the enormous figure of 5860; and
          this estimate may probably be accepted, in view of the fact that, out of a crew
          of 645 men, the Redoutable lost 522 in killed
          and wounded.
          
        
        The losses
          of the Allies did not, however, end with the day of the great battle. On
          October 23, Commodore de Cosmao Kerjulien put to sea from Cadiz with five battleships and five frigates, in the hope of
          retaking some of the British prizes. His movements contributed to the recapture
          of two of the vessels already mentioned. But his force was caught by a storm,
          and three of its five ships were wrecked, so that there remained in Cadiz only
          nine sail of the line, including the recovered ships. On November 4, four of
          the ships which had escaped from the French van at Trafalgar, under
          Rear-Admiral Dumanoir le Pelley, were overtaken
          after a long chase and brought to action by a British squadron of five ships of
          the line and four frigates, then cruising off Ferrol under the orders of
          Captain Sir Richard Strachan, and after a prolonged resistance were taken and
          carried into Plymouth. Strachan was looking for Allemand’s squadron, which however eluded the British fleets and returned safely to
          Rochefort, having done great damage to British commerce.
          
        
        Brilliant as
          was the victory of Trafalgar—, the climax of the prolonged naval struggle with
          France, and the last pitched battle of the war fought at sea between large
          fleets, it caused at the moment little jubilation in England. So closely had
          Nelson identified himself with the glory of the navy, so much had he endeared
          himself to his countrymen, that his loss seemed to them to outweigh the virtual
          annihilation of the enemy’s fleet. The news of Trafalgar brought sorrow rather
          than rejoicing; and the British triumph seemed to be balanced by the French
          victories at Ulm and Austerlitz. No immediate effect was perceptible, yet from
          the close of 1805 the French navy ceased to cause serious anxiety in England ;
          and, though more than once Napoleon attempted to repeat the combinations which
          had ended thus disastrously, British predominance upon the seas was
          henceforward beyond dispute.
          
        
        Before the
          battle of Trafalgar, but after his army had moved from Boulogne, Napoleon
          issued orders to Rear-Admirals Willaumez and Leissegues, both of whom held commands in the Brest fleet,
          to put to sea, the one with six ships of the line and the other with five, and
          to wage relentless war on British commerce. Both squadrons managed to escape on
          December 13, and soon parted company. But their exit was observed; and two
          powerful squadrons, under Sir John Warren and Sir Richard Strachan, were sent
          in pursuit. Willaumez sailed to the Cape, after a
          narrow escape, from Admiral Sir John Duckworth, who saw him but, though almost
          equal in force, showed no anxiety to attack him. As the Cape was in British
          hands, the French admiral proceeded to Brazil and Martinique, off which island
          he had another narrow escape from a British squadron under Rear-Admiral
          Cochrane. While he was waiting at sea to catch a British convoy, storms
          scattered his fleet; and he was compelled with only one ship to make for
          Havana. He reached that port in safety, and returned to France early in 1807.
          The results of the expedition were miserable —seventeen merchantmen taken at the
          cost of two French ships of the line. Leissegues was
          even more unfortunate. His five sail of the line were caught at anchor in San
          Domingo roads, on February 6,1806, by Duckworth with eight sail of the line,
          and sustained a crushing defeat. Three of his ships of the line were taken and
          two destroyed; only the small craft with him managed to escape.
          
        
        In January,
          1806, Cape Colony was attacked by a small British expedition under Commodore
          Sir Home Popham, and captured with but little difficulty. The results of this
          conquest, and the subsequent failures of Popham and Whitelocke in their attempts upon Montevideo and Buenos Ayres, will be described in a
          later chapter of this volume.
          
        
        In 1807, two
          important operations were undertaken by the British navy in European waters.
          The first was against the Sultan, who had been induced by Napoleon to declare
          war on Russia, with which Great Britain was still in alliance. A squadron of
          eight ships of the line was assembled off the Dardanelles under Duckworth, with
          orders to compel the Sultan, by a threat of bombardment, to surrender his
          fleet. Duckworth viewed the project with something verging on alarm; but,
          instead of either resigning his command or acting with celerity, though he knew
          that the works commanding the Straits were being strengthened daily, he wasted
          time. While he was waiting, one of his ships was accidentally burned with heavy
          loss of life. At last, on February 19,1807, he forced his way past the forts in
          the Dardanelles, destroying a small Turkish squadron on his progress and
          suffering trivial loss. But, though he now had Constantinople at his mercy, his
          indecision reasserted itself; and, instead of taking instant action, he spent days
          in consultations with the British minister at Constantinople, while the Turks
          recovered from their alarm and prepared to meet him. He was more than ever
          uneasy when he found that vague threats had no effect on the Porte; and on
          March 2, after showing himself off Constantinople, he returned to the
          Dardanelles and repassed the Straits next day, suffering considerable loss and
          damage in the transit. The whole expedition was mismanaged; and Duckworth was
          fortunate in escaping a court-martial. An attempt on Egypt was equally
          unsuccessful. The British took Alexandria, but were defeated at Rosetta, and in
          September agreed to evacuate the country. The Russian Admiral Seniavin, who was in the Mediterranean with ten sail,
          defeated the Turkish fleet in July; but, on hearing that peace had been made at
          Tilsit, he concluded an armistice with the Sultan and hurried back towards the
          Baltic. He succeeded in reaching the Tagus, but was blockaded by a British
          squadron, and ultimately, in August, 1808, after Wellesley’s landing in
          Portugal, was obliged to hand over his ships to the British Government.
          
        
        The second
          expedition of 1807 was the direct consequence of the Peace of Tilsit.
          Information reached the British ministry that a secret article in this treaty
          stipulated that Denmark, Sweden, and Portugal should be compelled by France and
          Russia to close their ports to British ships and join in the war against Great
          Britain. This would add to the naval force at Napoleon’s disposal twenty
          Danish, eleven Swedish and nine Portuguese sail of the line, and would more
          than repair the losses of Trafalgar. It was of the utmost importance that
          Napoleon should be forestalled; and Canning, then Foreign Minister, had
          sufficient daring to act at once. The weapon was ready to hand, as a large
          force had recently been mobilised for service on the Continent.
          
        
        On July 19,
          eleven days after the signing of the secret articles, the resolution to seize
          the Danish fleet was formed; and on July 26 Admiral Gambier sailed from
          Yarmouth with seventeen sail of the line, subsequently raised to twenty-five,
          and a large flotilla of gunboats and transports, carrying 27,000 troops under
          Lord Cathcart. Though the Danes could not offer any serious resistance, when,
          on August 3, Gambier appeared off Elsinore, they refused to surrender their
          ships. The blockade of Zealand was therefore enforced by the British navy,
          while the army disembarked and drew its lines round Copenhagen. On September 2
          the bombardment of the town began. It was continued till the 5th with terrible
          effect, when negotiations followed; and on the 7th the Danish Government
          decided to surrender the fleet. Eighteen Danish ships of the line, ten
          frigates, and forty-two smaller vessels were seized and most of them removed,
          the others being destroyed. The operations were well planned and skilfully
          carried out; and an ample force was wisely employed. That the attack was
          necessary no one will now deny. England was fighting for her existence; and,
          however disagreeable was the task of striking a weak neutral, she risked her
          own safety if she left in Napoleon’s hand a fleet of such proportions. In Count
          Vandal’s words, she “merely broke, before he had seized it, the weapon which
          Napoleon had determined to make his own”. During the operations against Copenhagen,
          Heligoland was occupied; it was used thenceforward as a depot for trade with
          the Continent. The island of Anholt was seized in
          1809, and held till the close of the war.
          
        
        The natural
          result of the seizure of the Danish fleet was that Denmark declared formal war,
          and joined France against Great Britain. A British fleet and a small
          expeditionary force were despatched to the Baltic early in 1808; and thus it
          came to pass that, when the Spanish troops whom Napoleon had virtually interned
          in Fünen, under the Marquis of Romana, heard of the
          dethronement of their sovereign and showed signs of disaffection, a British
          fleet was able to take off the greater portion and to convey them back to
          Spain. During the later months of 1808 the British blockaded the Russian fleet,
          which showed little inclination to cause trouble. This blockade continued
          without intermission until 1812. From 1810 to 1812 Sweden was an unwilling
          enemy; but the British and Swedish admirals mutually arranged not to attack
          each other. As for the Portuguese fleet, Napoleon was not able to seize it,
          since it withdrew to Brazil. At the same time the island of Madeira -was
          temporarily handed over to British custody. In the autumn of 1812, on the
          approach of the French army, Alexander I of Russia decided to send his fleet to
          England for the winter, fearing that otherwise it might fall into the hands of
          the French. Seventeen Russian sail of the line accordingly withdrew to England.
          
        
        On his
          return from Tilsit, Napoleon gave instructions for the flotilla at Boulogne to
          be kept in readiness, and pressed forward the work of shipbuilding with greater
          energy than ever. A powerful expedition was organised at Toulon to attack
          Sicily. In January, 1808, Allemand put to sea from
          Rochefort, evaded a British squadron which was watching him, entered the
          Mediterranean unseen, and with five of his ships reached Toulon. Ganteaume, who
          had been transferred to Toulon from Brest, was ready to put to sea, with
          instructions to attack Sicily, or, if this were impossible, to revictual Corfu.
          He sailed on February 7 with ten battleships, including Allemand’s force, and a number of smaller craft and transports, but was caught by a storm
          in which one of his ships lost two topmasts, and four others parted company,
          only rejoining him in the Adriatic. He reached Corfu
          unmolested, and having thrown reinforcements and provisions into it, returned
          to Toulon on April 10, again without opposition. The inferiority of Collingwood
          to Nelson as a commander and a strategist was shown by his conduct of these
          operations; with thirty sail of the line and fifty smaller ships, he failed to
          cut off the French fleet which had ventured into the Adriatic. The blockade of
          Toulon had been virtually abandoned, and the French were permitted to come and
          go much as they liked. Collingwood’s failure at this juncture appears to have
          preyed upon his mind ; he was old, ill, worn out by long years of devoted
          service, and would willingly have relinquished the command to a younger man ;
          but, entreated by his Government to remain at his post, he obeyed, to die in
          harness in 1809.
          
        
        In May,
          1808, Napoleon formulated another “immense project”, from the execution of
          which he was only diverted by the outbreak of the Spanish insurrection. It
          embodied most of the features of the old plans formed before the battle of
          Trafalgar. Great expeditions were to be made ready at Brest, Lorient,
          Rochefort, Ferrol, Nantes, and Toulon, in order to menace England on every side
          ; while large forces were to encamp close to the squadrons, and to embark if
          the British fleets relaxed their vigilance. Egypt, the West Indies, and Ireland
          were to be perpetually threatened, with the purpose of wearing out England by
          incessant alarms. Napoleon calculated that by midsummer, 1808, he would have 42
          battleships available, and a year later, 77; which, added to 54 ships belonging
          to his various allies, would give an effective fleet of 131 sail of the line.
          But all these hopes and anticipations were shattered when it became clear that
          a national war had to be faced in Spain, and that, instead of adding the
          Spanish forces to his own, he would have to count them as hostile to him. In
          June, 1808, he directed Decrès to delay his naval armaments and to diminish the
          purchase of stores and supplies for the navy. Practically, this meant that the
          project of invading England was again abandoned. In the same month, five French
          sail of the line, the last remnant of Villeneuve’s fleet, which had been in
          Cadiz harbour since Trafalgar, were captured by the Spanish insurgents; and a
          French ship at Vigo shared their fate. As squadrons were no longer needed off
          Cadiz, Ferrol, and Cartagena, large British forces were set free to watch
          Toulon and other French ports. The Spanish insurrection therefore greatly
          diminished the pressure on Great Britain, and, from the naval as well as the
          military point of view, had an important influence on the course of the war.
          
        
        In February,
          1809, the British fleet blockading Brest was driven off the port by a storm;
          and Willaumez, who commanded the French forces
          inside, put to sea with eight sail of the line. Had he shown energy, he might
          have captured in succession the small British detachments watching Lorient and
          Rochefort, in each of which ports lay three French ships. His orders were to
          pick up these squadrons and then proceed to Martinique. On February 24 he
          anchored in Basque Roads with eleven ships of the line, three of which were in
          no condition to put to sea; and, as he was at once blockaded by the British and
          feared an attack, he moved into Aix Roads, where defence was easier. In this
          operation one of his ships went ashore and became a total wreck. Napoleon
          thereupon removed him from his command, and replaced him by Allemand.
          The British Admiralty prepared fire-ships for an attack on the French; and Lord
          Cochrane, a bold and enterprising officer, was selected for the conduct of the
          operations, under Admiral Lord Gambier, who viewed the project with no
          enthusiasm. The attack was delivered on April 11; and, with the smallest energy
          on Gambier’s part, the whole French fleet must have been taken or destroyed.
          The British fire-ships, it is true, did little damage, but they created a panic
          in the French fleet, so that the vessels cut their cables and, drifting in the
          strong tides, collided with each other or ran aground. At daybreak on the 12th,
          all the French ships but two were ashore. All that was required to complete the
          disaster was an attack by the heavy ships of the British fleet. But Gambier did
          not move; and Cochrane was left to effect what he could with his light ships
          and frigates. The result was that five of the eight stranded French vessels
          eventually escaped, and only three of Allemand’s fleet were destroyed. But so low had the professional standard of the British
          navy fallen since the loss of its great leaders, that Gambier was regarded as
          having deserved well of the nation. Notwithstanding bitter protests from
          Cochrane, he was “most honourably” acquitted by a packed court-martial, and was
          even thanked by Parliament.
          
        
        In the
          disastrous Walcheren expedition, however, there was little fault to find with
          the navy. This expedition was originally planned in March, 1809, to effect a
          diversion in favour of Austria; and, had the plan been carried out immediately
          after the defeat of Napoleon at Essling, it might
          have brought about the fall of the Empire. But there was great delay in
          completing the preparations; and the French had time to win the battle of
          Wagram before the fleet and transports sailed (July 28). The naval force
          consisted of 37 sail of the line and 600 other craft, under Sir R. Strachan.
          The army was 39,219 strong, and was under Lieutenant-General Lord Chatham,
          whose chief recommendation for command appears to have been that he was of
          high rank, and had been seen “in person exercising eight or ten thousand men
          much to his credit.” The unfortunate results of this expedition will be
          described in another chapter of this volume. It must suffice to say here that
          the failure was due to friction between the army and navy, the selection of an
          incompetent general, and the despatch of the force at the wrong season of the
          year.
          
        
        The only
          other naval event in Europe of any importance in the year 1809 was the
          destruction of two French battleships and a convoy in the Gulf of Lyons
          (October 26—November 1) by ships from Collingwood’s fleet. The French were
          under the orders of Rear-Admiral Baudoin, who was
          conveying supplies from Toulon to the French army in Spain. Though Ganteaume
          had eighteen French and Russian ships in Toulon, he made no attempt to support
          his subordinate. He was soon afterwards replaced by Allemand,
          who was subsequently sent to Lorient. Thence, in March, 1812, Allemand managed to put to sea, but he went no further than
          Brest.
          
        
        In the
          Adriatic the British navy slowly asserted its superiority. In October, 1809,
          the Ionian Islands, with the exception of Corfu, were reduced by small conjoint
          expeditions, which gave the navy a base in those distant waters. This was
          followed by a victory gained by Captain Hoste off
          Lissa (March, 1811) over a strong French squadron of frigates, and by the
          capture of a French battleship, the Rivoli, in 1812.
          
        
        From the
          date of the first despatch of a British expeditionary force to Spain, the
          British navy was called upon to protect the passage of transports and
          storeships, and to cooperate in the military operations. The best work in this
          quarter was achieved by Cochrane, who late in 1808 harried Duhesme in Catalonia. There were many complaints of the navy when Wellington was
          commanding in Spain. He blamed it in 1813 for insufficient support in the siege
          of San Sebastian, but not, it would appear, with good reason. He asked
          impossibilities, and, in the words of the First Lord of the Admiralty, appeared
          to consider “a large ship within a few yards of the shore...as safe in its
          position and as immoveable by the winds or waves as one of the Pyrenean
          mountains.”
          
        
        Throughout
          the later years of the war the main French squadrons remained inactive; and
          this though their numbers were steadily growing, and though, from 1812 onwards,
          Great Britain was at war with the United States. As a general feature of the
          war from 1803 to 1814, it may be said that the French fleets never deliberately
          attacked; they only accepted battle when it was forced upon them.
          
        
        Outside
          Europe, the reduction of the French possessions continued steadily all through
          the war, though it was not effected with the rapidity which might have been
          expected after the British navy had asserted its command of the sea. Numerous
          examples, and, in particular, the cruises of Missiessy,
          showed how easy it was, down to 1805, for French squadrons to put to sea, and
          to throw reinforcements into the French colonies. In the West Indies, Santa
          Lucia, Tobago, and Demerarm were reduced in 1803;
          Surinam in 1804; the Dutch island of Curaçoa in 1807;
          Marie Galante and Désirade in 1808; Martinique and
          Cayenne in 1809; and in 1810 Guadeloupe, the last of the French West Indian
          possessions, and the Dutch islands of St Martin, St Eustatius, and Saba. In the
          East the British were equally successful; Pondicherry and the other French
          colonies in India had not been evacuated by the British troops when war broke
          out, and were retained; Amboyna and Banda Neira, in
          the Dutch East Indies, were captured in 1810; in the same year Bourbon and Mauritius,
          the head-quarters of the French privateers in the Indian Ocean, were reduced;
          and in 1811 the valuable island of Java was taken from the Dutch. In Africa,
          the French colony of Senegal succumbed in 1809. Reference has already been made
          to the occupation of Cape Colony in 1806. Thus France and her allies were
          stripped of all their colonial possessions. Yet the loss of these bases did not
          render attacks upon British commerce altogether impracticable. At that date
          there were many weak neutrals, on whose coasts it was possible for cruisers to
          refit and obtain provisions.
          
        
        After the
          failure of his project of invading England, Napoleon determined to prohibit
          British trade on the Continent. As an answer to his efforts, a blockade of the
          French coast from Brest to the Elbe, with certain reservations, was proclaimed
          by the British Government in May, 1806. Napoleon’s replies to this measure,
          embodied in the Berlin, Milan, and other decrees, which jointly established
          what is known as the Continental System, are described elsewhere in this
          volume. The political effects of these measures fall outside the province of
          this chapter. As to their economic effects, though practically the entire coast
          of Europe was under Napoleon’s control from the opening of 180S to the close of
          1811, and though British trade at sea was attacked by numerous French
          privateers and cruisers, the results were far less disastrous than might have
          been anticipated. The measures directed by Napoleon against neutrals
          contributed to the success of British shipping, by providing it with freight.
          Probably it would have been a wiser proceeding on his part, had he given all
          possible encouragement to American shipping, and sought to reduce British
          exports by a heavy differential tariff. The following figures, giving the
          clearances of British and foreign shipping engaged in the foreign trade of
          Great Britain (exclusive of Ireland), will illustrate the effect of Napoleon’s
          Decrees and the British Orders in Council:
          
        
        Clearances
          outwards, in thousands of tons, for years ending January 5.
          
        
        1802 1803 1804 1805 1806 1807
          1808 1809 1810 1811 1812 1814
          
        
        British,  
        1626 1453 1463 1495 1486 1424 1372 1531 1624
          1507 1665 1875
          
        
        Foreign, 
        461   574    587  605    568   631   282  699  1138   696   550   571
          
        
        The records
          of 1813 have been destroyed. The remaining figures prove that, while British
          shipping slightly decreased in the earlier period of the war, and neutral
          shipping distinctly increased, from 1808 onwards British shipping gained
          ground, though the heavy demand for transports during the Peninsular War must
          be taken into account after 1808. The sudden increase of neutral shipping in
          the nominal year 1810, really in 1809, was due to the repeal of the American
          embargo, to the expansion of the Baltic trade when Napoleon’s attention was
          concentrated upon crushing Austria, and to the fact that he intimated that he
          would permit the entry of neutral shipping, even if laden with British goods;
          while, in their anxiety to obtain markets for unsaleable produce, the British
          authorities were even more tolerant towards neutral shipping. But, when the
          neutral vessels put into French ports, their cargoes were seized and sold or
          destroyed by the French authorities.
          
        
        There is a
          tendency to regard the Continental System as a disastrous failure; but the
          economic history of England suggests that it inflicted upon her industrial
          population fearful suffering and loss, and came perilously near to effecting
          its object. The attempt of Napoleon to cut off the supply of raw material from
          the British manufacturers was so far successful that in England wool, silk,
          timber, and hemp rose enormously in price—silk, for example, from 30s. per lb.
          to 112s., and most other materials in proportion. The control of the Baltic by
          Napoleon, especially in 1810-11, shook England to her foundations. In 1812 the
          British people were face to face with actual famine, owing to the demands of
          the French army for wheat and corn, the export duty levied at Danzig, and a
          general bad harvest. Wheat, in places, rose from 10s. a bushel to 25s.; and the
          foreign sources of supply failed. The trade was virtually free, but the cost of
          licences, freight, and insurance was prohibitive. According to Tooke, these
          charges, on a vessel of 100 tons burden, occasionally amounted to £50,000 for
          the voyage to Calais from London and back.
            
        
        It has been
          calculated (by Captain Mahan) that the average annual loss to British shipping
          by capture was 524 vessels, or an average of about 2.1/5- per cent, on the
          annual number of British vessels entering and clearing from ports in the United
          Kingdom. Such insurance figures as are obtainable suggest that the percentage
          of pecuniary loss was much greater, since, even when neutrals were included,
          the average rate of insurance during the war was more than 5 per cent. To the
          Mediterranean, during the third quarter of the year 1805, the risk varied from
          6 to 25 guineas, the lower figure being probably that paid for neutral ships.
          In 1811 the average rate out to the Baltic was £18, and home from that sea,
          £22. Outside European waters, however, the risk steadily diminished during the
          war, with the reduction of the French colonies and the capture of French
          cruisers and privateers. The voyage to the West Indies was insured at 13J
          guineas in 1805, while Villeneuve was at sea; the rate in 1810 was £9. To the
          East Indies the rate was about 16 guineas in 1805, and £8 in 1810. Freight rose
          in a ratio corresponding with the advance in insurance. According to Tooke, the
          freight and insurance on hemp rose during 1809-12 to twelve times the cost of
          the same items in 1837, a normal year; on tallow it was nearly fourteen times
          the normal; on wheat eleven times, and on timber ten times—all being cargoes from
          the Baltic. In 1809 as much as £?30 was occasionally paid for the freight of a
          ton of hemp alone. The value of a ton in time of peace was only from £20 to
          £30; that price was now quadrupled.
          
        
        Except in
          the Mediterranean, where throughout the war France retained a certain amount of
          coasting trade, French shipping was annihilated. After their brief recovery
          during the Peace of Amiens, the French Channel ports reverted to the lamentable
          condition in which the earlier war had plunged them; and at Havre a large
          number of houses were uninhabited. Metternich, in 1810, speaks of the French
          people as “ruined by the entire destruction of their commerce”; but this was an
          exaggeration, as France enjoyed internal prosperity and a considerable expert
          trade by land. Between 1802 (a year of peace) and 1811, when the Continental
          System was at its height, French exports increased slightly, while British
          exports declined. On the other hand, the allies of France suffered lamentably ;
          the strain upon their population was severer than had been the strain on France
          in 1796-1800; and they had no compensation for their losses. Their growing
          exasperation led eventually to the great explosion of national hatred which
          overthrew Napoleon.
          
        
        The
          following figures, given by Captain Norman, indicate the intensity of the
          French attack upon British commerce, showing as they do the British merchantmen
          captured year after year by the French, and the French privateers taken
          annually by the British:
          
        
        The evidence
          of the insurance rates would seem to show that the peril was greatest in 1805,
          when two strong French fleets were at large on the Atlantic. In the closing
          years of the war with France, the simultaneous conflict with the United States,
          described in a previous volume, complicates the calculations.
          
        
        The losses
          of the French and their allies in the war were enormous. While the British navy
          did not lose a single vessel of the line in action or by capture, thirty-one
          French ships of the line were captured or destroyed by the British, while six
          more were captured by the Spanish insurgents; Spain lost twelve sail of the
          line, Holland three, Denmark nineteen, and Russia one. But the British losses
          from storms and shipwrecks were numerous throughout the war, as was to be
          expected in a fleet which was constantly forced to keep at sea.
            
        
        The renewal
          of war in 1815 led to a fresh blockade of the French coast; and, when the news
          reached the British authorities that Napoleon would probably endeavour to
          escape to America, the British cruisers in the Bay of Biscay were ordered to
          show the utmost vigilance. Napoleon, however, speedily gave up the attempt as
          hopeless, and surrendered himself to Captain Maitland of the Bellerophon on
          July 15. It was not inappropriate that the navy, which had frustrated two of
          the Emperor’s greatest projects: the intended invasion of England and the
          attempted conquest of Spain, should also receive his final surrender. At the
          close of the war, the navy had reached a point of strength which has never
          before or since been surpassed or even equalled. In 1814 it counted 240 ships
          of the line, 317 frigates, and 611 small craft, a total of 1168 pennants; and,
          though all of these ships were not fit for sea, they represented a force which
          was more than equivalent to the navies of all the other European Powers
          combined.
          
        
        The service
          which the British navy rendered in this Titanic conflict both to England and to
          Europe can scarcely be overestimated. It saved England from invasion, and
          perhaps from conquest; it enabled her to continue her efforts unceasingly, and
          thus, after she had, in Pitt’s famous words, “saved herself by her exertions”,
          to “save Europe by her example”. British successes at sea proved to the world
          that the great conqueror was not invincible, and this at a time when his
          prestige on land was undimmed by failure. Consequently, throughout the
          struggle, Great Britain remained the one centre of hope and encouragement to
          the Continental Powers; her endurance and success bred in them something of her
          own dauntless and indomitable spirit; and Trafalgar was the really decisive
          battle of the Napoleonic War.
          
        
        
           
        
        
           
        
        
           
        
        CHAPTER IX.
                
        
        THE THIRD COALITION.