by Dean King
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.
Admiral Sir John Jervis, with fifteen sail of the line and four frigates, has defeated the Spanish Grand fleet, consisting of twenty-seven ships of the line and ten frigates, and captured four sail of the line, two of which are of three decks.
This brilliant affair took place off Cape St. Vincent on the 14th of February, the anniversary of St. Valentine, who by this glorious event has almost eclipsed his brother Crispian; and henceforth we must say, with the poet:
“He that’s outliv’d this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tiptoe when the day is nam’d,
And rouse him at the name of Valentine.”
Captain Calder, Captain of the fleet under the command of Sir John Jervis, bears home the admiral’s dispatches and is now on board the Lively. It is expected that he will land to-morrow; and I purpose to avail myself of that opportunity, to transmit you such an account of this splendid action, as I have been able to arrange in the time that has elapsed since we separated from the British fleet in Lagos Bay.
Before I enter on the detail of the proceedings of the important day which will certainly immortalize the name of Jervis, and of his brave seconds, it is proper to state the relative force of the British and Spanish fleets.
The British fleet, or to use, I believe, a more correct term, the British squadron, consisted of fifteen sail of the line, four frigates, a sloop of war, and a cutter; viz., two of 100 guns, two of 98 guns, two of 90 guns—total, six three-deckers, eight of 74 guns, and one of 64 guns.
The Spanish fleet was composed of twenty-seven sail of the line, ten frigates, and one brig; viz., one of four decks, carrying 136 guns; six of three decks, each of 112 guns; two of 84 guns, and eighteen of 74 guns each.
The Spanish admiral had sailed from Carthagena the 4th February. On the 5th, he passed Gibraltar, leaving in that Bay three line-of-battle ships, supposed to be laden with military stores for the Spanish troops stationed before that garrison; two of which ships afterwards chaced Commodore Nelson, in the Minerve. The strong easterly gale that had been friendly for their getting out of the Mediterranean was, however, unpropitious to their gaining the Port of Cadiz.
On the night of the 11th, as I have before mentioned, they were fallen in with, off the mouth of the Straits, by the Minerve. And the evening of the day on which Commodore Nelson joined Sir John Jervis off Cape St. Vincent, we find their fleet driven farther to the westward; for a part of them were not only seen by the Minerve, before she joined the British fleet, but La Bonne Citoyenne, a British sloop of war, commanded by Captain Lindsay, arrived in the fleet the same evening with intelligence that not two hours before she had exchanged shots with one of the enemy’s frigates, and that the enemy’s fleet was not far distant.
Before sun-set in the evening of the 13th, the signal had been made for the British squadron to prepare for battle, and the ships were also directed to keep in close order during the night.
At daybreak on the 14th (St. Valentine’s day) the British fleet was in complete order, formed in two divisions standing on a wind to the SSW. The morning was hazy. About half-past six o’clock, A.M., the Culloden made the signal for five sail in the SW by S quarter, which was soon after confirmed by the Lively and Niger frigates, and that the strange sail were by the wind on the starboard tack. The Bonne Citoyenne sloop of war, Captain Lindsay, was therefore directed to reconnoitre. At a quarter past eight o’clock, the squadron was ordered, by signal, to form in a close order; and in a few minutes afterwards the signal was repeated to prepare for battle.
About half-past nine o’clock, the Culloden, Blenheim, and Prince George were ordered to chace in the SbyW quarter; which, upon the Bonne Citoyenne’s making a signal that she saw eight sail in that quarter, was afterwards strengthened by the Irresistible, Colossus, and Orion.
A little past ten o’clock, the Minerve frigate made the signal for twenty sail in the SW quarter, and a few minutes after, of eight sail in the S by W. Half an hour afterwards the Bonne Citoyenne made the signal that she could distinguish sixteen, and immediately afterwards twenty-five of the strange ships, to be of the line. The enemy’s fleet were indeed become now visible to all the British squadron.
The ships first discovered by the Culloden were separated from their main body, which being to windward, were bearing down in some confusion, with a view of joining their separated ships. It appeared to have been the British admiral’s intention, upon discovering the separated ships of the enemy’s fleet, to have cut them off, if possible, before their main body could arrive to their assistance; and, with this view, the fast sailing ships of his squadron were ordered to chace.
Assured now of the near position of their main body, he probably judged it most advisable to form his fleet into the line of battle, and the signal was made for their forming the line of battle a-head and a-stern as most convenient. A signal was made directing the squadron to steer SSW.
About twenty minutes past eleven o’clock, the admiral pointed out that the Victory (his flag-ship) would take her station next to the Colossus. Some variation in steering was afterwards directed, in order to let the rear ships close up. At twenty-six minutes past eleven o’clock, the admiral communicated his intention to pass through the enemy’s line, hoisting his large flag and ensign, and soon after the signal was made to engage.
The British van by this
time had approached the enemy; and the distinction of leading the British line into action fell to the lot of the Culloden, commanded by Captain Troubridge. About half-past eleven o’clock, the firing commenced from the Culloden against the enemy’s headmost ships to windward.
As the British squadron advanced, the action became more general; and it was soon apparent that the British admiral had accomplished his design of passing through the enemy’s line.
The animated and regular fire of the British squadron was but feebly returned by the enemy’s ships to windward, which, being frustrated in their attempts to join the separated ships, had been obliged to haul their wind on the larboard tack: those to leeward, and which were most effectually cut off from their main body, attempted also to form on their larboard tack, apparently with a determination of either passing through, or to leeward, of our line and joining their friends; but the warm reception they met with from the centre ships of our squadron soon obliged them to put about; and excepting one, the whole sought safety in-flight, and did not again appear in the action until the close of the day.
The single ship just mentioned persevered in passing to leeward of the British line but was so covered with smoke that her intention was not discovered until she had reached the rear, when she was not permitted to pass without notice, but received the fire of our sternmost ships; and as she luffed round the rear, the Lively and other frigates had also the honor of exchanging with this two-decker several broadsides.
Sir John Jervis, having effected his first purpose, now directed his whole attention to the enemy’s main body to windward, consisting at this time of eighteen sail of the line. At eight minutes past twelve, the signal therefore was made for the British fleet to tack in succession, and soon after he made the signal for again passing the enemy’s line.