Every Man Will Do His Duty (14 page)

Captain Cockburn, who had been taking a view of the chacing enemy, now joined the commodore, and observed that there was no doubt of the headmost ship gaining on the
Minerve.
At this moment dinner was announced, but before Nelson and his guests left the deck, orders were given to set the studding sails. At table I found myself seated next to Lieutenant Hardy, and was congratulating him on his late exchange from being a prisoner of war, when the sudden cry of a “man overboard,” threw the dinner party into some disorder. The officers of the ship ran on deck: I, with others, ran to the stern windows to see if any thing could be observed of the unfortunate man; we had scarcely reached them before we noticed the lowering of the jolly boat, in which was my late neighbour Hardy, with a party of sailors; and before many seconds had elapsed, the current of the Straits (which runs strongly to the eastward) had carried the jolly boat far astern of the frigate, towards the Spanish ships. Of course the first object was to recover, if possible, the fallen man, but he was never seen again. Hardy soon made a signal to that effect, and the man was given up as lost. The attention of every person was now turned to the safety of Hardy and his boat’s crew; their situation was extremely perilous, and their danger was every instant increasing from the fast sailing of the headmost ship of the chace, which, by this time had
approached nearly within gun-shot of the
Minerve.
The jolly boat’s crew pulled “might and main” to regain the frigate, but apparently made little progress against the current of the Straits. At this crisis, Nelson, casting an anxious look at the hazardous situation of Hardy and his companions, exclaimed, “By G—I’ll not lose Hardy! Back the mizen top-sail.” No sooner said than done; the
Minerve
’s progress was retarded, leaving the current to carry her down towards Hardy and his party, who seeing this spirited manoeuvre to save them from returning to their old quarters on board the
Terrible,
naturally redoubled their exertions to rejoin the frigate. To the landsmen on board the
Minerve
an action now appeared to be inevitable; and so, it would appear, thought the enemy, who surprised and confounded by this daring manoeuvre of the commodore (being ignorant of the accident that led to it,) must have construed it into a direct challenge. Not conceiving, however, a Spanish ship of the line to be an equal match for a British frigate, with Nelson on board of her, the Captain of the
Terrible
suddenly shortened sail, in order to allow his consort to join him, and thus afforded time for the
Minerve
to drop down to the jolly-boat to take out Hardy and the crew; and the moment they were on board the frigate, orders were given again to make sail.

Being now under studding sails, and the widening of the Straits allowing the wind to be brought more on the
Minerve
’s quarter, the frigate soon regained the lost distance; and, in a short time, we had the satisfaction to observe, that the dastardly Don was left far in our wake; and at sunset, by steering further to the southward, we lost sight of him and his consort altogether.

What course the
Minerve
pursued after nightfall, I did not remark. The interesting incidents of the preceding day had afforded matter to occupy our attention; and we landsmen retired to rest, congratulating ourselves on what we could not but feel to have been a fortunate escape.

On the removal of the passengers from the
Romulus
into the
Minerve,
at Gibraltar, the crowded state of the latter frigate would not allow of other arrangements than of my having a cot slung alongside of that of the viceroy, in the after cabin. So situated, I was awakened in the night, by the opening of our cabin door, through which I saw, by the light burning in the fore cabin, some person enter, and on raising myself, I observed that it was Nelson. Seeing me awake, he enquired if Sir Gilbert was asleep, to which I replied in the affirmative. To my enquiry if any thing new had occurred, the commodore approached my cot, and told me that he had every reason to believe that the
Minerve
was at that very moment in the midst of the Spanish fleet. From their signals, he said that he knew it was not that of Sir John Jervis; that the night was foggy; that the
Minerve
was then between two very large ships within hail of each of them, and others
were near on all sides; that he and Captain Cockburn had little doubt of the strangers being Spanish; that Captain Cockburn and his officers were all on the alert; and every cautionary direction given, particularly to watch the movements of the strange ships, and do as they did, &c., &c.

When Nelson had finished these details, I could not help observing that this was a verifying of the old adage, “out of the frying-pan into the fire,” alluding to our escape of the day before. The commodore allowed that we had got into something like a scrape, but added that it was quite unavoidable, on account of the night and fog; nevertheless, he thought that, with address, we might extricate ourselves.

He remained for some time, making various observations on these strange ships, and then continued to the following effect:—If they did not belong to the Spanish grand fleet, he thought they must be a convoy, or detached squadron, proceeding to the West Indies (of which, it appears, he had received some previous information), and that, if the latter were the fact, they must be destined to strengthen the Spanish naval force in that quarter; in which case, it would be of the first moment that the British commander on the West India station should be early apprised of these movements of the enemy; a duty, he conceived he was called upon to undertake, instead of joining Sir John Jervis.

On hearing Nelson express these opinions, I could not avoid saying, “But what will you do with Sir Gilbert Elliot? it is of the greatest importance, owing to his recent interviews with the Italian states, that he should not only see Sir John Jervis, but reach England with the least possible delay.”—The commodore admitted the force of these remarks; but the other point, in his judgment, outweighed every other consideration: “but,” said he, breaking off, “I’ll go on deck, and see how things are going on.” To awake Sir Gilbert in our present uncertainty could answer no good purpose; I therefore did not disturb him, but ruminated on this new and unlooked for occurrence, in the hope of devising some means of avoiding a trip to the West Indies, which, I thought would be at least an untoward conclusion of our Mediterranean campaign.

It soon occurred to me, that as we must pass near Madeira, in our way to the West Indies, the viceroy and his party might be landed on that island; or, if any neutral ship crossed our track, we might equally avail ourselves of a transfer to her, and obtain a passage to Lisbon, or perhaps to England.

This plan I had settled to my own satisfaction, when Nelson again appeared, and observed that the strange ships having been seen to tack, or wear, I forget which, the
Minerve
had followed their example; and that after having so done, directions were given for the frigate’s edging away insensibly, and that Captain Cockburn and himself were inclined to think the
Minerve
was getting out of the thick of the fleet, and would soon cease to be embarrassed with them. After this gratifying communication, Nelson repeated his former opinions and intentions, and we were earnestly discussing the subject, when Sir G. Elliot was awakened by our conversation. He was then made acquainted with all that had been passing, with the commodore’s suspicions regarding the strange ships, and with his conditional plan, to proceed immediately to the West Indies. After some general observations, and repeating his determination, if necessary, of carrying us to the West Indies, the commodore left the cabin again, and soon returned with the agreeable intelligence that the
Minerve
had, he trusted, got quit of the strange fleet. “We propose,” added Nelson, “to stand on our present course during the night: at daybreak, we shall take another direction, which will enable us to fall in with the strange ships again, should they be on their way to the westward. I shall then ascertain the force of the convoy, or of the squadron, if it consist only of men-of-war; and should it then appear advisable, I shall start for the West Indies. Should we not fall in with any strange ships in the course which the
Minerve
will steer after daybreak, my conclusion is, that the fleet we have fallen in with must be the grand fleet of Spain; it will be then of the first importance that I join Sir John Jervis as soon as possible, in order that he may be informed of the enemy’s fleet not having been yet able to get into Cadiz, and of their state on quitting Carthagena, of which Lieutenants Culverhouse and Hardy are able to give the latest and most minute accounts.”

The commodore then left Sir Gilbert Elliot and me to our repose, if that were possible. After he had left the cabin, I asked Sir Gilbert what he thought of this new occurrence, and of the prospect of a trip to the West Indies. “It was another escape,” he replied, “and as to the voyage to the West Indies, if the commodore considered the public service required that proceeding, he must submit to circumstances; he was only a passenger.” This cool way of receiving and considering our present situation and prospects did not surprise me, well acquainted as I was with the viceroy’s character. However, I made known to him the plan I had devised to avoid a visit to a tropical climate, of which he approved. Nothing further occurred until we all met at breakfast, when the incidents of the last twenty-four hours became the subject of conversation, and were fully discussed. I then learned that the
Minerve
was at that instant standing on the course which would soon confirm one of the two suspicions entertained by Nelson, regarding the strange ships seen during the past night. A good look out was naturally kept during the whole of the 12th of February, but no ships of any sort appearing, Nelson felt assured that the fleet with which the
Minerve
had been entangled the night before, was the Spanish grand fleet; and being
more confirmed in this idea as the day advanced, he became very anxious to join Sir John Jervis’s fleet whose rendezvous, as fixed with the commodore, was not far from the place where we then were.

At daybreak, on the 13th of February, the weather was hazy, and as the
Minerve
was approaching the place of rendezvous, orders were given for keeping a good look out. In the forenoon a brig and cutter hove in sight, and soon after a larger sail, which, as the frigate neared, was discovered to be a ship of war. She proved to be the British frigate, the
Lively,
of thirty-two guns, an out-skirter of Sir John Jervis’s fleet, which in a very short time the
Minerve
joined, not a little to the gratification of all parties.

On joining Sir John Jervis’s fleet, the commodore, accompanied by the viceroy, repaired on board the flag-ship the
Victory
—the latter to confer with the admiral on political matters, the former to report in what manner he had executed his last orders, and to communicate all the naval intelligence he had gleaned in his late cruize, particularly of his being chaced by the enemy on leaving Gibraltar, and of his very recent nightly rencontre with the Spanish grand fleet. It was at this period that the capture of Lieutenants Culverhouse and Hardy, so much regretted at the time it took place, proved to be of the highest importance. The recaptured Spanish frigate,
Santa Sabina,
in which the above officers had been made prisoners, had returned to Carthagena, where the greatest part of the Spanish grand fleet was equipping for sea. These English officers had thus many favorable opportunities of noticing their state and condition, and having also sailed with the fleet when it left Carthagena for Cadiz, they had ample means of obtaining accurate knowledge of their numbers, equipment, and discipline. The information collected by Lieutenants Culverhouse and Hardy was of the greatest value, and being made known to the British admiral, was found to corroborate much of what he had learned from other quarters. Being also assured, not only by Nelson’s intelligence, but by additional information brought by the
Bonne Citoyenne,
that the Spanish fleet was close at hand, Sir John Jervis, with that decision which was a prominent trait in his character, determined, notwithstanding the enemy’s very superior force, to bring the Spaniards, if possible, to action.

No sooner was this decision taken, than the admiral’s intentions were promulgated to his squadron, by throwing out the signal to prepare for action. Nelson, on rejoining the fleet, quitted the
Minerve,
and resumed the command of his regular ship, the
Captain.
Sir Gilbert Elliot and his party also left the
Minerve,
and were directed to repair on board the
Lively
frigate, commanded by Lord Garlies, who had orders to proceed with them immediately to England. But the viceroy could not bear the idea of leaving the British fleet at so critical and interesting a juncture. His Excellency’s first
request of Sir John Jervis was to be allowed to remain with the admiral as a volunteer on board of the
Victory,
until the issue of the approaching contest was known, which proposal Sir John positively refused; and all that the viceroy could obtain, was the admiral’s assent that the
Lively
should not leave the British fleet until she could carry with her the despatches conveying the result of the expected engagement.

This enabled me to be an eye-witness of the action of the 14th of February, 1797, and the following letter to my father contains the Narrative of that battle, which, as already mentioned, I published, on my arrival in England, in the spring of that year.

ON BOARD THE LIVELY FRIGATE, OFF THE ISLAND OF SCILLY
,

February 27,1797.

ONCE MORE, MY DEAR SIR
, I am in sight of Old England, the land of rational liberty; and the pleasure of revisiting my native country, after an absence of six years, is not a little increased by the satisfaction of being on board a frigate that is the messenger of great and important news—a splendid and decisive victory—a victory unparalleled in the annals of our naval history.