Chapter III: Introduction: V (2)

I enclose you a very gloomy account from one of our Dutch correspondents,[5] from which however I am inclined to deduct as he proposes at least one half. And though the remainder would be bad enough in itself, I see nothing in the consequences at all alarming, if Austria has the courage to pursue the only policy which is safe under such circumstances. Allowing for the great loss the French must evidently have sustained, they must probably require some interval before they can move to the Inn, and that march must be from 100 to 150 miles. If the Austrians and Russians on the Inn were to be 100,000 men by the 20th of this month, the further reinforcements they must probably receive from the Tirol and Salzburg, from such part of the Ulm army as may find its way to them, and from the Austrian reserves, must enable them to make a stout and probably an effectual resistance in that position. And they have still to expect a second army of 50,000 Russians in no long time, and, I should hope, 40,000 more of the reserve originally intended by Russia to have been kept on the frontier of Lithuania, but which might surely now be converted into an active force. Add to this that if Bonaparte advances to the Inn, he will be at least 300 miles from his frontier, just about the time the Prussian force will be collected at Bayreuth, and his allies probably advancing from Saxony and Hesse, the first of which places seems not more than 80 miles, the second 150 and the third 200 miles from points that would cut off all communication with Mentz, Manheim, and Strasburg. I am only unreasonable enough to desire that the Prussian army may move for this object within five days from your arrival, and everything may yet take a decisive turn in our favour before Christmas. We are flattering ourselves that as the wind is nearly due north, you may be able to sail, but I take the chance of this finding you still at Yarmouth.

(_b_) _Canning to Pitt._

SOUTH HILL, _January 4, 1806_.

If Sturges had not written to me yesterday, and I had only my newspapers of this morning to trust to, I should have made out a very good consolatory case from the materials which they furnish. But they are not altogether sufficient to counteract the impression of Sturges’s first intelligence; and I must therefore refer to you for more substantial and certain consolation.

1. If the Emperor of Russia has not given up the game personally; and if he is still in a situation to communicate with the Emperor of Germany, I have hopes that his influence may yet induce the E. of G. to break the armistice, before it has led to peace. It is obviously (upon the map) the interest of Austria to do so.

2. My second hope is from the co-operation of Prussia, but that (which was my only hope yesterday) is a good deal weakened by the resolution which Sturges announced to me of the Russian army retreating through Hungary. Thro’ Hungary! _Into_ Hungary with a view to the first object, I can understand. But a retreat commenced thro’ Hungary at the same moment with the offer to Berlin of the use of Russian armies is more perplexing than encouraging.

3. If the very worst happens that is now threatened--if Austria does make a separate peace, and is abolished as a Power, and if Prussia lies down and licks Bonaparte’s feet, and is forgiven and gets Hanover assigned to her for her submission--still, with Russia unpledged to peace and committed in war, we are better off than we were before the Coalition took place. We must then, I think, set about making a new treaty with Russia with a view to joint negotiation _hereafter_. But still this is not the hopeless state of things in which (when we were looking at the possibility of it three months ago) we thought we should have nothing to do but to return an answer to Bonaparte’s neglected letter of January last. Nothing like it.

“One of the greatest comforts that you could send me would be the intelligence that you are going on well and getting stout. I did not very much like the late accounts of you.... I take for granted you do not mean to attend the funeral.”[6]

* * * * *

NOTE.--The last fatal news of Austerlitz was received by Pitt on January 13, 1806, and he died ten days afterwards, on January 23.

ROUTINE ON A BRITISH MAN-OF-WAR--THE REVENGE (1805).

=Source.=--Clowes’ _Royal Navy,_ 1900. Vol. v., p. 21.

“Our crew were divided into two watches, starboard and larboard. When one was on deck the other was below: for instance, the starboard watch would come on at eight o’clock at night, which was called eight bells; at half-past is called one bell, and so on; every half-hour is a bell, as the hour-glass is turned, and the messenger sent to strike the bell, which is generally affixed near the fore-hatchway.[7] It now becomes the duty of the officer on deck to see that the log-line is run out, to ascertain how many knots the ship goes an hour, which is entered in the log-book, with any other occurrence which may take place during the watch. At twelve o’clock, or eight bells in the first watch, the Boatswain’s Mate calls out lustily, ‘Larboard watch, a-hoy.’ This is called the middle watch, and when on deck, the other watch go below to their hammocks, till eight bells, which is four o’clock in the morning. They then come on deck again, pull off their shoes and stockings, turn up their trousers to above their knees, and commence ‘holy-stoning’ the deck, as it is termed (for Jack is sometimes a little impious in the way of his sayings). Here the men suffer from being obliged to kneel down on the wetted deck, and a gravelly sort of sand strewed over it. To perform this work they kneel with their bare knees, rubbing the deck with a stone and the sand, the grit of which is often very injurious. In this manner the watch continues till about four bells, or six o’clock; they then begin to wash and swab the decks till seven bells, and at eight bells the Boatswain’s Mate pipes to breakfast. This meal usually consists of burgoo, made of coarse oatmeal and water; others will have Scotch coffee, which is burnt bread boil’d in some water, and sweetened with sugar. This is generally cooked in a hook-pot in the galley, where there is a range. Nearly all the crew have one of these pots, a spoon, and a knife; for these things are indispensable; there are also basins, plates, etc., which are kept in each mess, which generally consists of eight persons, whose berth is between two of the guns on the lower deck, where there is a board placed, which swings with the rolling of the ship, and answers for a table.... At half-past eight o’clock, or one bell in the forenoon watch, the larboard watch goes on deck, and the starboard remains below. Here again the ‘holy-stones,’ or ‘hand-bibles,’ as they are called by the crew, are used, and sometimes iron scrapers. After the lower deck has been wetted with swabs, these scrapers are used to take the rough dirt off. Whilst this is going on, the cooks from each mess are employed in cleaning the utensils and preparing for dinner; at the same time the watch are working the ship, and doing what is wanting to be done on deck.

“About eleven o’clock, or six bells, when any of the men are in irons, or on the black list, the boatswain or mate are ordered to call all hands; the culprits are then brought forward by the Master-at-Arms, who is a warrant-officer, and acts the part of Jack Ketch when required; he likewise has the prisoners in his custody, until they are put in irons, under any charge. All hands being now mustered, the Captain orders the man to strip; he is then seized to a grating by the wrists and knees; his crime is then mentioned, and the prisoner may plead; but, in nineteen cases out of twenty, he is flogged for the most trifling offence or neglect, such as not hearing the watch called at night, not doing anything properly on deck or aloft which he might happen to be sent to do, when, perhaps, he has been doing the best he could, and, at the same time, ignorant of having done wrong, until he is pounced on, and put in irons. So much for legal process. After punishment, the Boatswain’s Mate pipes to dinner, it being eight bells, or twelve o’clock; and this is the pleasantest part of the day, as at one bell the piper is called to play ‘Nancy Dawson,’ or some other lively tune, a well-known signal that the grog is ready to be served out. It is the duty of the cook from each mess to fetch and serve it out to his messmates, of which every man and boy is allowed a pint, that is, one gill of rum and three of water, to which is added lemon acid, sweetened with sugar. Here I must remark that the cook comes in for the perquisites of office, by reserving to himself an extra portion of grog, which is called the over-plus, and generally comes to the double of a man’s allowance. Thus the cook can take upon himself to be the man of consequence, for he has the opportunity of inviting a friend to partake of a glass, or of paying any little debt he may have contracted. It may not be known to everyone that it is grog which pays debts, and not money, in a man-of-war. Notwithstanding the cook’s apparently pre-eminent situation, yet, on some occasions, he is subject to censure or punishment by his messmates, for not attending to the dinner properly, or suffering the utensils of his department to be in a dirty condition. Justice, in these cases, is awarded by packing a jury of cooks from the different messes, for it falls to the lot of each man in a mess to act as cook in his turn. The mode or precept by which this jury is summoned is by hoisting a mess swab or beating a tin dish between decks forward.... At two bells in the afternoon, or one o’clock, the starboard watch goes on deck, and remains working the ship, pointing the ropes, or doing any duty that may be required, until the eight bells strike, when the Boatswain’s Mate pipes to supper. This consists of half a pint of wine, or a pint of grog, to each man, with biscuit, and cheese or butter. At the one bell, or half-past four, which is called one bell in ‘the first dog-watch,’ the larboard watch comes on duty, and remains until six o’clock, when that is relieved by the starboard watch, which is called the ‘second dog-watch,’ which lasts till eight o’clock. To explain this, it must be observed that these four hours, from four to eight o’clock, are divided into two watches, with a view of making the other watches come regular and alternate.... By this regular system of duty, I became inured to the roughness and hardships of a sailor’s life. I had made up my mind to be obedient, however irksome to my feelings, and, our ship being on the Channel Station, I soon began to pick up a knowledge of seamanship.”

NELSON’S PLAN OF ACTION FOR TRAFALGAR (1805).

=Source.=--Clowes’ _Royal Navy_, 1900. Vol. v., p. 127.

After declaring his intention of keeping the fleet in such a position of sailing that the order of sailing should be the order of battle, Nelson went on to say:--

“If the enemy’s fleet should be seen to windward in line of battle,
and that the two lines ... could fetch them, they will probably be
so extended that their van could not succour their rear. I should
therefore probably make the second in command’s signal to lead
through about the twelfth ship from their rear, or wherever he
could fetch, if not able to get so far advanced. My line would cut
through about their centre.... The whole impression of the British
fleet must be to overpower [from] two or three ships ahead of their
commander-in-chief--supposed to be in the centre--to the rear of
their fleet. I will suppose 20 sail of the enemy’s line to be
untouched. It must be some time before they could perform a
manœuvre to bring their force compact to attack any part of the
British fleet engaged, or to succour their own ships; which,
indeed, would be impossible without mixing with the ships
engaged.... British to be one-fourth superior to the enemy cut off.
Something must be left to chance. Nothing is sure in a sea-fight,
beyond all others. Shot will carry away the masts and yards of
friends as well as of foes; but I look with confidence to a victory
before the van of the enemy could succour their rear; and then that
the British fleet would, most of them, be ready to receive their 20
sail of the line, or to pursue them should they endeavour to make
off.... The second in command will, in all possible things, direct
the movements of his line, by keeping them as compact as the nature
of the circumstances will admit. Captains are to look to their
particular line as their rallying point; but, in case signals
cannot be seen or clearly understood, no captain can do very wrong
if he places his ship alongside that of an enemy.”

Should the enemy wait in line of battle--as he actually did at Trafalgar--to receive an attack from windward--

“the divisions of the British fleet will be brought nearly within
gunshot of the enemy’s centre. The signal will most probably then
be made for the ... lines to bear up together; to set all their
sails, even their steering sails, in order to get as quickly as
possible to the enemy’s line, and to cut through, beginning at the
twelfth ship from the enemy’s rear. Some ships may not get through
their exact place, but they will always be at hand to assist their
friends. If any are thrown round the rear of the enemy, they will
effectually complete the business of 12 sail of the enemy. Should
the enemy wear together, or bear up and sail large, still the 12
ships composing, in the first position, the enemy’s rear are to be
the object of attack of the lee line, unless otherwise directed by
the Commander-in-Chief, which is scarcely to be expected, as the
entire management of the lee line, after the intentions of the
Commander-in-Chief are signified, is intended to be left to the
judgment of the admiral commanding that line. The remainder of the
enemy’s fleet ... are to be left to the management of the
Commander-in-Chief, who will endeavour to take care that the
movements of the second in command are as little interrupted as
possible.”[8]

TRAFALGAR (1805).

=Source.=--Southey: _Life of Nelson_ (1813).

Villeneuve was a skilful seaman, worthy of serving a better master and a better cause. His plan of defence was as well conceived, and as original, as the plan of attack. He formed the fleet in a double line, every alternate ship being about a cable’s length to windward of her second ahead and astern. Nelson, certain of a triumphant issue to the day, asked Blackwood what he should consider as a victory. That officer answered, that considering the handsome way in which battle was offered by the enemy, their apparent determination for a fair trial of strength, and the situation of the land, he thought it would be a glorious result if fourteen were captured. He replied, “I shall not be satisfied with anything short of twenty.” Soon afterwards he asked him if he did not think there was a signal wanting. Captain Blackwood made answer, that he thought the whole fleet seemed very clearly to understand what they were about. These words were scarcely spoken before that signal was made, which will be remembered as long as the language, or even the memory of England shall endure--Nelson’s last signal--“ENGLAND EXPECTS THAT EVERY MAN WILL DO HIS DUTY!” It was received throughout the fleet with a shout of answering acclamation, made sublime by the spirit which it breathed, and the feeling which it expressed. “Now,” said Lord Nelson, “I can do no more. We must trust to the great Disposer of all events, and the justice of our cause. I thank God for this great opportunity of doing my duty.”

He wore that day, as usual, his Admiral’s frock-coat, bearing on the left breast four stars of the different orders with which he was invested. Ornaments which rendered him so conspicuous a mark for the enemy, were beheld with ominous apprehensions by his officers. It was known that there were riflemen on board the French ships; and it could not be doubted but that his life would be particularly aimed at. They communicated their fears to each other, and the Surgeon, Mr. Beatty, spoke to the Chaplain, Dr. Scott, and to Mr. Scott, the public Secretary, desiring that some person would entreat him to change his dress, or cover the stars: but they knew that such a request would highly displease him. “In honour I gained them,” he had said, when such a thing had been hinted to him formerly, “and in honour I will die with them.” Mr. Beatty, however, would not have been deterred by any fear of exciting his displeasure, from speaking to him himself upon a subject in which the weal of England, as well as the life of Nelson, was concerned, but he was ordered from the deck before he could find an opportunity. This was a point upon which Nelson’s officers knew that it was hopeless to remonstrate or reason with him; but both Blackwood, and his own Captain, Hardy, represented to him how advantageous to the fleet it would be for him to keep out of action as long as possible; and he consented at last to let the _Leviathan_ and the _Téméraire_, which were sailing abreast of the _Victory_, be ordered to pass ahead. Yet even here the last infirmity of this noble mind was indulged; for these ships could not pass ahead if the _Victory_ continued to carry all her sail, and so far was Nelson from shortening sail, that it was evident he took pleasure in pressing on, and rendering it impossible for them to obey his own orders. A long swell was setting into the Bay of Cadiz. Our ships, crowding all sail, moved majestically before it, with light winds from the south-west. The sun shone on the sails of the enemy, and their well-formed line, with their numerous three-deckers, made an appearance which any other assailants would have thought formidable; but the British sailors only admired the beauty and the splendour of the spectacle; and, in full confidence of winning what they saw, remarked to each other what a fine sight yonder ships would make at Spithead!

The French Admiral, from the _Bucentaure_, beheld the new manner in which his enemy was advancing--Nelson and Collingwood each leading his line; and pointing them out to his officers, he is said to have exclaimed, that such conduct could not fail to be successful. Yet Villeneuve had made his own dispositions with the utmost skill, and the fleets under his command waited for the attack with perfect coolness. Ten minutes before twelve they opened their fire. Eight or nine of the ships immediately ahead of the _Victory_, and across her bows, fired single guns at her, to ascertain whether she was yet within their range. As soon as Nelson perceived that their shot passed over him, he desired Blackwood, and Captain Prowse, of the _Sirius_, to repair to their respective frigates, and on their way to tell all the Captains of the line-of-battle ships that he depended on their exertions; and that if by the prescribed mode of attack they found it impracticable to get into action immediately, they might adopt whatever they thought best, provided it led them quickly and closely alongside an enemy. As they were standing on the front of the poop, Blackwood took him by the hand, saying he hoped soon to return and find him in possession of twenty prizes. He replied, “God bless you, Blackwood; I shall never speak to you again.” ...

The enemy continued to fire a gun at a time at the _Victory_, till they saw that a shot had passed through her main-topgallant sail; then they opened their broadsides, aiming chiefly at her rigging, in the hope of disabling her before she could close with them. Nelson, as usual, had hoisted several flags, lest one should be shot away. The enemy showed no colours till late in the action, when they began to feel the necessity of having them to strike. For this reason the _Santissima Trinidad_, Nelson’s old acquaintance, as he used to call her, was distinguishable only by her four decks, and to the bow of this opponent he ordered the _Victory_ to be steered. Meantime an incessant raking fire was kept up upon the _Victory_. The Admiral’s Secretary was one of the first who fell; he was killed by a cannon-shot while conversing with Hardy. Captain Adair, of the Marines, with the help of a sailor, endeavoured to remove the body from Nelson’s sight, who had a great regard for Mr. Scott; but he anxiously asked, “Is that poor Scott that’s gone?” and being informed that it was indeed so, exclaimed, “Poor fellow!” Presently a double-headed shot struck a party of marines who were drawn up on the poop, and killed eight of them, upon which Nelson immediately desired Captain Adair to disperse his men round the ship, that they might not suffer so much from being together. A few minutes afterwards a shot struck the fore-brace bits on the quarter-deck, and passed between Nelson and Hardy, a splinter from the bit tearing off Hardy’s buckle, and bruising his foot. Both stopped, and looked anxiously at each other; each supposed the other to be wounded. Nelson then smiled, and said, “This is too warm work, Hardy, to last long.”

The _Victory_ had not yet returned a single gun. Fifty of her men had been by this time killed or wounded, and her main-topmast, with all her studding sails and her booms, shot away. Nelson declared that in all his battles he had seen nothing which surpassed the cool courage of his crew on this occasion. At four minutes after twelve she opened her fire from both sides of her deck. It was not possible to break the enemy’s line without running on board one of their ships. Hardy informed him of this, and asked him which he would prefer. Nelson replied, “Take your choice, Hardy; it does not signify much.” The Master was ordered to put the helm to port, and the _Victory_ ran on board the _Redoutable_, just as her tiller ropes were shot away. The French ship received her with a broadside; then instantly let down her lower-deck ports, for fear of being boarded through them, and never afterwards fired a great gun during the action. Her tops, like those of all the enemy’s ships, were filled with riflemen. Nelson never placed musketry in his tops. He had a strong dislike to the practice, not merely because it endangers setting fire to the sails, but also because it is a murderous sort of warfare, by which individuals may suffer, and a commander now and then be picked off, but which never can decide the fate of a general engagement.

Captain Harvey, in the _Téméraire_, fell on board the _Redoutable_ on the other side. Another enemy was in like manner on board the _Téméraire_; so that these four ships formed as compact a tier as if they had been moored together, their heads lying all the same way. The Lieutenants of the _Victory_ seeing this, depressed their guns of the middle and lower decks, and fired with a diminished charge, lest the shot should pass through, and injure the _Téméraire_. And because there was danger that the _Redoutable_ might take fire from the lower-deck guns, the muzzles of which touched her side when they were run out, the fireman of each gun stood ready with a bucket of water, which, as soon as the gun was discharged, he dashed into the hole made by the shot. An incessant fire was kept up from the _Victory_ from both sides, her larboard guns playing upon the _Bucentaure_ and the huge _Santissima Trinidad_.

It had been part of Nelson’s prayer, that the British fleet might be distinguished by humanity in the victory which he expected. Setting an example himself, he twice gave orders to cease firing upon the _Redoutable_, supposing that she had struck, because her great guns were silent; for, as she carried no flag, there was no means of instantly ascertaining the fact. From this ship, which he had thus twice spared, he received his death. A ball fired from her mizen-top, which in the then situation of the two vessels was not more than fifteen yards from that part of the deck where he was standing, struck the epaulette on his left shoulder, about a quarter after one, just in the heat of action. He fell upon his face, on the spot which was covered with his poor Secretary’s blood. Hardy, who was a few steps from him, turning round, saw three men raising him up. “They have done for me at last, Hardy,” said he. “I hope not,” cried Hardy. “Yes,” he replied; “my backbone is shot through.” Yet even now, not for a moment losing his presence of mind, he observed, as they were carrying him down the ladder, that the tiller ropes, which had been shot away, were not yet replaced, and ordered that new ones should be rove immediately; then, that he might not be seen by the crew, he took out his handkerchief, and covered his face and his stars. Had he but concealed these badges of honour from the enemy, England perhaps would not have had cause to receive with sorrow the news of the battle of Trafalgar. The cockpit was crowded with wounded and dying men, over whose bodies he was with some difficulty conveyed, and laid upon a pallet in the Midshipmen’s berth. It was soon perceived, upon examination, that the wound was mortal. This, however, was concealed from all except Captain Hardy, the Chaplain, and the medical attendants. He himself being certain, from the sensation in his back and the gush of blood he felt momently within his breast, that no human care could avail him, insisted that the Surgeon should leave him, and attend to those to whom he might be useful; “for,” said he, “you can do nothing for me.” All that could be done was to fan him with paper, and frequently to give him lemonade to alleviate his intense thirst. He was in great pain, and expressed much anxiety for the event of the action, which now began to declare itself. As often as a ship struck, the crew of the _Victory_ hurrahed, and at every hurrah a visible expression of joy gleamed in the eyes and marked the countenance of the dying hero. But he became impatient to see Captain Hardy; and as that officer, though often sent for, could not leave the deck, Nelson feared that some fatal cause prevented him, and repeatedly cried, “Will no one bring Hardy to me? He must be killed! He is surely dead!” An hour and ten minutes elapsed from the time when Nelson received his wound before Hardy could come to him. They shook hands in silence, Hardy in vain struggling to suppress the feelings of that most painful and yet sublimest moment. “Well, Hardy,” said Nelson, “how goes the day with us?” “Very well,” replied Hardy; “ten ships have struck, but five of the van have tacked, and show an intention to bear down upon the _Victory_. I have called two or three of our fresh ships round, and have no doubt of giving them a drubbing.” “I hope,” said Nelson, “none of our ships have struck.” Hardy answered, “There was no fear of that.” Then, and not till then, Nelson spoke of himself. “I am a dead man, Hardy,” said he; “I am going fast; it will be over with me soon. Come nearer to me. Let my dear Lady Hamilton have my hair, and all other things belonging to me.” Hardy observed, that he hoped Mr. Beatty could yet hold out some prospect of life. “Oh, no!” he replied; “it is impossible. My back is shot through. Beatty will tell you so.” Captain Hardy then once more shook hands with him, and, with a heart almost bursting, hastened upon deck.

By this time all feeling below the breast was gone; and Nelson, having made the Surgeon ascertain this, said to him: “You know I am gone, I know it. I feel something rising in my breast”--putting his hand on his left side--“which tells me so.” And upon Beatty’s inquiring whether his pain was very great, he replied, “So great, that he wished he was dead. Yet,” said he, in a lower voice, “one would like to live a little longer too!” And after a few minutes, in the same undertone, he added, “What would become of poor Lady Hamilton, if she knew my situation!” Next to his country she occupied his thoughts. Captain Hardy, some fifty minutes after he had left the cockpit, returned; and, again taking the hand of his dying friend and commander, congratulated him on having gained a complete victory. How many of the enemy were taken he did not know, as it was impossible to perceive them distinctly; but fourteen or fifteen at least. “That’s well,” cried Nelson, “but I bargained for twenty.” And then, in a stronger voice, he said: “Anchor, Hardy; anchor.” Hardy, upon this, hinted that Admiral Collingwood would take upon himself the direction of affairs. “Not while I live, Hardy,” said the dying Nelson, ineffectually endeavouring to raise himself from the bed: “Do you anchor.” His previous order for preparing to anchor had shown how clearly he foresaw the necessity of this. Presently calling Hardy back, he said to him in a low voice, “Don’t throw me overboard:” and he desired that he might be buried by his parents, unless it should please the King to order otherwise. Then reverting to private feelings: “Take care of my dear Lady Hamilton, Hardy: take care of poor Lady Hamilton. Kiss me, Hardy,” said he. Hardy knelt down and kissed his cheek: and Nelson said, “Now I am satisfied. Thank God, I have done my duty.” Hardy stood over him in silence for a moment or two, then knelt again and kissed his forehead. “Who is that?” said Nelson; and being informed, he replied, “God bless you, Hardy.” And Hardy then left him--for ever.

Nelson now desired to be turned upon his right side, and said, “I wish I had not left the deck; for I shall soon be gone.” Death was, indeed, rapidly approaching. He said to the Chaplain, “Doctor, I have _not_ been a _great_ sinner:” and after a short pause, “Remember that I leave Lady Hamilton and my daughter Horatia as a legacy to my country.” His articulation now became difficult; but he was distinctly heard to say, “Thank God, I have done my duty.” These words he repeatedly pronounced; and they were the last words which he uttered. He expired at thirty minutes after four--three hours and a quarter after he had received his wound....

The _Redoutable_ struck within twenty minutes after the fatal shot had been fired from her. During that time she had been twice on fire--in her fore-chains and in her forecastle. The French, as they had done in other battles, made use in this of fire-balls and other combustibles; implements of destruction which other nations, from a sense of honour and humanity, have laid aside; which add to the sufferings of the wounded, without determining the issue of the combat: which none but the cruel would employ, and which never can be successful against the brave. Once they succeeded in setting fire, from the _Redoutable_, to some ropes and canvas on the _Victory’s_ booms. The cry ran through the ship, and reached the cockpit: but even this dreadful cry produced no confusion: the men displayed that perfect self-possession in danger by which English seamen are characterized; they extinguished the flames on board their own ship, and then hastened to extinguish them in the enemy, by throwing buckets of water from the gangway. When the _Redoutable_ had struck, it was not practicable to board her from the _Victory_; for, though the two ships touched, the upper works of both fell in so much, that there was a great space between their gangways; and she could not be boarded from the lower or middle decks, because her ports were down. Some of our men went to Lieutenant Quilliam, and offered to swim under her bows, and get up there; but it was thought unfit to hazard brave lives in this manner.

What our men would have done from gallantry, some of the crew of the _Santissima Trinidad_ did to save themselves. Unable to stand the tremendous fire of the _Victory_, whose larboard guns played against this great four-decker, and not knowing how else to escape them, nor where else to betake themselves for protection, many of them leaped overboard, and swam to the _Victory_: and were actually helped up her sides by the English during the action. The Spaniards began the battle with less vivacity than their unworthy allies, but they continued it with greater firmness. The _Argonauta_ and _Bahama_ were defended till they had each lost about four hundred men; the _San Juan Nepomuceno_ lost three hundred and fifty. Often as the superiority of British courage has been proved against France upon the seas, it was never more conspicuous than in this decisive conflict. Five of our ships were engaged muzzle to muzzle with five of the French. In all five the Frenchmen lowered their lower-deck ports, and deserted their guns; while our men continued deliberately to load and fire, till they had made the victory secure....

The total British loss in the battle of Trafalgar amounted to one thousand five hundred and eighty-seven. Twenty of the enemy struck. But it was not possible to anchor the fleet, as Nelson had enjoined; a gale came on from the south-west. Some of the prizes went down, some went on shore; one effected its escape into Cadiz; others were destroyed. Four only were saved, and those by the greatest exertions. The wounded Spaniards were sent ashore, an assurance being given that they should not serve till regularly exchanged; and the Spaniards, with a generous feeling which would not perhaps have been found in any other people, offered the use of their hospitals for our wounded, pledging the honour of Spain that they should be carefully attended there. When the storm, after the action, drove some of the prizes upon the coast, they declared that the English who were thus thrown into their hands should not be considered as prisoners of war; and the Spanish soldiers gave up their own beds to their shipwrecked enemies. The Spanish Vice-Admiral Alva died of his wounds. Villeneuve was sent to England, and permitted to return to France. The French Government say that he destroyed himself on the way to Paris, dreading the consequences of a court-martial; but there is every reason to believe that the tyrant, who never acknowledged the loss of the battle of Trafalgar, added Villeneuve to the numerous victims of his murderous policy.

THE YOUNGER PITT (1806).

=Source.=--Sir W. Scott.

I.

O, dread was the time, and more dreadful the omen,
When the brave on Marengo lay slaughtered in vain,
And beholding broad Europe bow’d down by her foemen,
Pitt closed in his anguish the map of her reign!

Not the fate of broad Europe could bend his brave spirit
To take for his country the safety of shame;
O, then in her triumph remember his spirit,
And hallow the goblet that flows to his name.

II.

Round the husbandman’s head while he traces the furrow
The mists of the winter may mingle with rain.
He may plough it with labour and sow it in sorrow,
And sigh while he fears he has sow’d it in vain;
He may die ere his children shall reap in their gladness;
But the blithe harvest-home shall remember his claim;
And their jubilee-shout shall be softened with sadness,
While they hallow the goblet that flows to his name.

III.

Though anxious and timeless his life was expended,
It toils for our country preserved by his care,
Though he died ere one ray o’er the nations ascended,
To light the long darkness of doubt and despair;
The storms he endured in our Britain’s December,
The perils his wisdom foresaw and o’ercame,
In her glory’s rich harvest shall Britain remember,
And hallow the goblet that flows to his name.

MINISTRY OF ALL THE TALENTS (1806).

=Source.=--_Diaries ... James Harris, first Earl of Malmesbury_, 1844. Vol. iv., p. 349.

_February 1._--His Royal Highness was cold with me for several days; but when he found my opinion to be the prevalent one, and even that of the King himself, he very handsomely gave way, and, having sent for me, by a fair and honest avowal of his mistake, left me more satisfied with him than before. The new Ministry was appointed a few days after this.

Lord Grenville and Fox were its two leaders, and their respective adherents and friends made up the Cabinet.[9]

The Prince of Wales went most heartily and _unbecomingly_ with them, and lowered his dignity by soliciting office and places for his dependents, and by degrading himself into the size of a common party leader.

From this moment I withdrew entirely from official men, my determination being to act as if Mr. Pitt was alive, and to endeavour to regulate my political conduct, and that of those I influenced, on what I supposed would be his, were he still in existence, whether in or out of office.

I told this to Lords Bathurst and Camden on the 27th January, considering these two as more _personally_, and less politically, attached to him, than any one else, not excepting Canning himself.

On the 4th February, Lord Carrington came to me in consequence of my having canvassed him for his interest at Cambridge University for Lord Palmerston. This he promised me in the handsomest manner; but I was surprised--when I lamented Mr. Pitt’s death, and spoke of the wisdom and propriety of his friends’ acting together, and in conformity to his doctrines and principles--to find Lord Carrington lukewarm on the subject. He said he conceived “_we_ were all _now_ free to act as we pleased. All bond of union was dissolved; no obligation remained with anyone to abide by a party which had lost its leader, _and with its leader everything_.” He said this in so very positive a way, that I contented myself with saying my sentiments were directly contrary to his, but that it was not for me to dispute with him on a point rather of feeling than of party. Lord Carrington was profuse in his lamentations on the death of Pitt, and equally so in his profession of friendship and gratitude to him, and respect for his memory, and, as a proof, he instanced his wish, that the part of Mr. Pitt’s debts, arising from a loan his friends contributed to raise for him in 1800, should not be produced when the items of them were laid before the House. [N.B. the House had voted a public funeral, and to pay Mr. Pitt’s debts immediately after his death, which Wyndham (strange to say) opposed, giving as a motive that no public funeral had been decreed to Burke.] Lord Carrington, however, said he was overruled by the Bishop of Lincoln, Prettyman[10] (who had been Pitt’s private tutor at Cambridge), who assured him it was one of Pitt’s last dying requests, that the six friends who had advanced him certain sums should be repaid. (They were Lord Bathurst and Carrington, Steele, Bishop of Lincoln, and two others, who at the time never would take any acknowledgment, or ever expected to be repaid.) This assertion of the Bishop of Lincoln, Lord Carrington said, shut his mouth, and the debt was laid before the House, which raised his (Pitt’s) debts to 43,000_l._

Ministers went on quietly, and with a very large majority, the whole year of 1806. In June an idea was suggested to make a push at them before the Recess, and I had several conversations with Canning, and one with Perceval on the subject, and constant ones with the Duke of Portland, who, by having undergone an operation for the stone, was wonderfully recovered.

MILITARY PLANS (1806).

=Source.=--_Diary of Lord Colchester_, 1861. Vol. ii., p. 49.

_House of Commons._--Mr. Fox attended; and Mr. Wyndham opened his military plans: about 350 Members present. His speech lasted four hours. Lord Castlereagh spoke next--about an hour and a half. Mr. Fox about an hour, and Mr. Yorke the same; he was followed by Sir James Pulteney, General Tarleton, and Colonel Crawfurd, &c. The House rose at half-past one without any division; and leave was given to bring in four Bills. The first of which was for the repeal of the additional force, or Parish Recruiting Act; the others for further suspending the militia ballot; altering the levy _en masse_, or training Act; and for increasing the Chelsea Hospital privileges and allowances.

Mr. Wyndham’s plan consisted in these points:--

1. To supply, maintain, and increase the regular army, by recruiting for term of years, renewing the service at the end of seven and fourteen years: even for a further period; making twenty-one years in the whole. The second and third periods of renewed service to be attended with some small increase of pay, _e.g._ 6d. for the first, and 1s. per week for the second period, and an increased Chelsea pension to every soldier at the end of twenty-one years. Also an increase of widows’ pensions, and of the Compassionate List; and this to be the only mode of recruiting.

2. To reduce the militia gradually to its original or lowest standard, viz. about 36,000 for England, by not filling up the vacancies.

3. The volunteer establishment to be reduced in expense, by striking off inspecting field officers, permanent duty pay, and lowering the high allowances to the lowest rate, called the August allowances. The clothing now due (being the fourth year) to be continued for this issue only, and no person hereafter becoming volunteer to have any assistance from Government but arms; and an exemption from the operation of the General Training Act.

4. All persons of military age, from eighteen to forty, to be liable to be trained to arms when called out by classes, but not to be embodied in corps; and to be relieved also from the training, either by entering into a volunteer corps, or paying a fine; and the numbers for training, _e.g._ 100,000 for one year, to be taken by lot out of the given classes.

CATHOLIC EMANCIPATION (1807).

I. LORD COLCHESTER’S DIARY.

=Source.=--_Diary of Lord Colchester_, 1861. Vol. ii., p. 92.

[_Feb._] _28th_.--Lord Hawkesbury called on the Catholic clauses in the Mutiny Bill, to express his alarms, and those of the Archbishop of Canterbury, and Perceval and Sir William Scott, about the apprehended extension of the Irish law of 1793, by now enabling Catholics to be Generals on the Staff.

_Sunday, March 1st._--Lord Sidmouth called. He desired to deposit with me his determination not to agree to granting the Catholics liberty to hold staff commissions. The King had with difficulty been persuaded by Lord Sidmouth to consent even to extend the Irish Act of 1793 to Catholic officers in the army, when coming to England; but had acceded to it at last, as a strict consequence of the Union; the Irish law then in force being virtually adopted for England. Lord Howick admitted that in the House of Commons he had given no other intimation of his notice. The Duke of Bedford and the Irish Government had understood the same things, and explained the concession on this ground to be only to the Catholics in Dublin. That it was now proposed, because the minute of Cabinet had been worded generally, that it should be carried into effect in its largest sense; and the King was again to be asked for his consent. The Cabinet were about to meet this day upon that express topic.

_2nd._--Lord Sidmouth called. The Cabinet had parted yesterday upon a resolution to proceed with the Catholic clauses, although they admitted that the King had not been specifically acquainted with that part of the measure which enabled Catholics to become Generals on the Staff; and although Lord Sidmouth had consented only to the application of the law of 1793; and although Lord Henry Petty, and Lord Holland, and Lord Howick allowed that he had never consented beyond that; and although Lord Howick admitted that, in his notice to the House of Commons, he had not in his own mind, any larger measure, &c. &c. But Lord Grenville declined to be the person who should state the subject again to the King or ask his consent upon it. Lord Sidmouth said he certainly would not interfere by volunteering his advice to the King; but, when he should see the King on Wednesday, he should, if asked by the King, give his own opinion and act upon it, whether sanctioned by the King or not; and so the Cabinet parted.

In the House of Commons Lord Howick first mentioned to me the Catholic clauses, and asked whether I thought they must necessarily pass through a Committee of the whole House, as being of religion. I told him that had really never occurred to me, but I would look into it and let him know; and although I entirely disapproved of what he was about, it was no reason why we should not freely converse about all the forms of proceeding.

The House engaged from six in the evening till six in the morning, hearing counsel and witnesses on the Westminster petition, complaining of Mr. Sheridan for having tampered with witnesses.

_3rd._--Searched precedents for Catholic clauses. Lord Howick postponed the Mutiny Bill Committee. I showed him the precedents I had collected. He hoped “I should not take any part in the Committee.” But I told him that “I must inevitably do so.”

_4th._--Lord Howick wrote me the following note:--

[_Private._]

STRATTON STREET, _March 4, 1807_.

MY DEAR SIR,

I believe I shall alter my course of proceeding respecting the new clauses, and introduce a new Bill instead. As the _measure_ is the subject of a notice for discussion to-day, though in another form, I take it for granted there can be no objection to my moving for leave to bring in a Bill, if I should ultimately determine to do so, instead of moving an instruction on the clauses in a committee.

I am afraid I have been guilty of an omission in not moving for an address in answer to the King’s message, which I see was done in the House of Lords yesterday; but, as the treaty was not laid before the House, and the only matter on which a proceeding of the House was to be had was voting the money, I thought it was the best way to refer the message to the Committee of Supply; in which it was proposed to vote to-day the sum advanced to the King of Prussia. Will you have the goodness to let me know, when I come to the House to-day, whether this has been the usual course of proceeding; or whether, if it should not be deemed sufficiently respectful, anything can now be done to correct the error.

I am, my dear Sir, Ever yours sincerely, HOWICK.

He drank tea with me in my room behind the chair. I told him I wished he would confine his Bill to the Irish Law of 1793. To that I could agree; but not without the same exclusion from the high military offices. He said, “That was but _a small object_.” I replied, “But the principle is large. You will never satisfy Mr. Keogh.” He said, “Oh, I did not think of trying at that. But I have said too much on this subject to let things remain as they are; we must do what satisfies us, whether it satisfies Mr. Keogh or not.”

II. LETTER FROM THE DUKE OF PORTLAND TO THE KING.

=Source.=--_Diaries and Correspondence of James Harris, first Earl of Malmesbury_, 1844. Vol. iv., p. 360.

_Copy of a Letter from the Duke of Portland to the King, sent
Thursday Evening, March 12th, 1807, to the Queen’s House,
acknowledged by Colonel Taylor Friday Morning the 13th._

BURLINGTON HOUSE, _March 12th, 1807_.

SIR,

I am so sensible of my presumption in addressing your Majesty on a subject of a public nature, that nothing but the confidence I have in your Majesty’s goodness, and the attachment I bear your Majesty, would induce me to do it. But it is a subject of such infinite magnitude, that, were I silent, I feel I should deserve to forfeit that I am most ambitious to be considered, of being looked upon by your Majesty as one of your Majesty’s most loyal and devoted subjects and servants.

Your Majesty will probably anticipate the subject on which I cannot but express my anxiety to lay my sentiments at your Majesty’s feet.

It is the Bill just proposed by Lord Howick, granting indulgences to the Catholics; a measure, that should any peculiarity of circumstances have induced your Majesty to acquiesce in, I should still think that by following the dictates of my own conscience and voting against it, I should not offend your Majesty.

But, impressed as I am with a belief of what must be your Majesty’s opinions and wishes, I could not forgive myself were I to conceal from your Majesty that your opinion is mistaken and your wishes not generally understood; and, humbly permit me to represent to your Majesty that it cannot well be otherwise, since one of your Majesty’s principal Ministers in the House of Commons brings in the Bill. Should I be wrong, and your Majesty has not given your consent to the measure in its present shape, I have little apprehension in giving it as my opinion that it may ultimately be defeated in its progress, though not, I fear, till it comes into the House of Lords; but, for this purpose, I must fairly state to your Majesty, that your wishes must be distinctly known, and that your present Ministers should not have any pretext for equivocating upon the subject, or any ground whatever to pretend ignorance of your Majesty’s sentiments and determination, not only to withhold your sanction from the present measure, but to use all your influence in resisting it.

The effect of such a proceeding is so obvious, that I would not suggest it, did I not believe that your Majesty’s business would be at a stand in such a case; and that persons would not be ready to come forward (should your Majesty think fit to call upon them) who are capable and willing to undertake the management of your Majesty’s affairs. But for this purpose it would be highly necessary and advantageous that the public should know the necessity to which your Majesty was driven of taking the conduct of your affairs out of the hands of those who now administer them; that for this purpose your Majesty should send for Lord Grenville, and state to him distinctly, that either your sentiments had been misrepresented or that you never had consented to the measure proposed by Lord Howick, and that, consistently with the opinion your Majesty had uniformly expressed, it never could or would have your Royal assent. It would then remain with Lord Grenville and his colleagues to take their part; possibly they might give way and still remain your Majesty’s Ministers; but, should they refuse to submit themselves to your Majesty’s pleasure, the necessity of employing other persons would be obvious to the whole world. The designs (which my feelings may possibly lead me unjustly to attribute to them) could no longer be mistaken, viz.: that the most venerated and sacred barriers of our constitution should be undermined and sapped for the purpose of introducing a new system into Church and State, and that your Majesty was reduced to the necessity of submitting to them or quarrelling with your Parliament.