The Perils of Command (25 page)

The order came to the rest of the French fleet, presumably from Admiral Martin, to set a course northward for Toulon. At that very moment the crippled French vessels that had fought so hard to avoid defeat struck their tricolour flags.

Nelson was already giving orders that would bring on a renewed chase when the flags at
Britannia
’s masthead killed off the notion. To say that he was stunned by this was an understatement; Nelson actually wondered out loud what Hotham was thinking of, for to him it was a case of ‘there is the enemy, and our task is to close and destroy them.’

‘Mr Farmiloe, my barge.’

If anyone wondered why Nelson wanted his barge at this stage they did not raise the question; it was off the ship and
in the water, it being a dangerous article to have on board in battle. If feet-thick scantlings could be reduced to deadly splinters, how much more lethal would be a flimsy ship’s boat?

As nimble as one of his own topmen, the captain of
Agamemnon
was in his boat and being rowed with some speed towards the flagship and he was not alone. Rear Admiral Samuel Goodall was also, it was reported, on the way to see Hotham, and Pearce was left in no doubt what the question would be, this from the rest of the
Agamemnon
’s officers.

‘Why are we not pursuing the enemy?’ Nelson reported on his return, accurate as it transpired, which left everyone waiting for Hotham’s reply. ‘He feels our van squadron has suffered too much,
Illustrious
particularly, to which Sam Goodall nearly had an apoplexy. And then, would you credit it, Hotham actually said that having taken two enemy vessels we have done very well.’

There was no doubting what Nelson thought of that statement; disgust was too mild a word for the expression on his face and the mood did not improve when Hotham ordered the fleet to head for La Spezia Bay, the badly damaged
Illustrious
being towed, which meant he had no intention of even following the French the next day.

It was almost in the nature of damnation when
Illustrious
suffered her fate; bad weather returned overnight and that had allowed water through her smashed gun ports. Her captain was obliged to change course to save the ship, only to be driven on to the shore by the increasingly foul weather. In the end the crew and stores were brought off but the ship could not be saved and the hull had to be burnt.

‘A meagre return, Mr Pearce,’ was Nelson’s mordant
comment. ‘Two Frenchmen taken and two of our own lost. It is not a tale that will read as valorous in the
Gazette
.’

Pearce was no longer thinking of fleet actions and possible burial in Westminster Abbey. He was concentrating more on getting back to Naples to both see Emily and to collect his Pelicans for a return to their ship.

Michael, Charlie and Rufus were in the Adriatic, the Chevalier having arranged their journey to Brindisi by the rapid Royal Mail coach, where they found Henry Digby much recovered and near fit to resume his duties. Naturally Michael O’Hagan was required to relate to him what had happened in Naples, which if it got much shaking of the head engendered little else.

For Digby his listening was not an invitation to a discussion or a revelation of his opinion on the matter, especially given he heartily disapproved of the liaison. Then there was the man telling the tale; O’Hagan might be held in high regard by John Pearce but to Digby he was lower deck and not of a standing enough to be engaged in speculation with his commanding officer. O’Hagan was thanked and told to return to his duties.

Edward Grey was a different kettle of fish; even if he was a lobster he was an officer and the so-called abduction of Captain Barclay’s wife was much ruminated upon. Could it be called that when it was a husband reclaiming his spouse? Grey had assumed much in the way of work while Pearce was absent.

With Digby still in convalescence, he had negotiated with the British traders, selling their two French merchantmen and their cargoes, albeit every move was reported to his
superior. The bulk of the French crews had elected to take employment locally while sale of both hulls and cargo had been carried out without haste. Because of that they had secured for the crew of HMS
Flirt
a sum of money greater than had been anticipated.

Given the men had been told by John Pearce there would be an immediate distribution of money, Digby risked near mutiny when he insisted he needed permission from the C-in-C to comply with that promise. In his sickbed he had much time to reflect and had worked out that he would need to temper the promises he made to Pearce in the immediate aftermath of the fight in which he had been wounded. He had started out with a career: given their success he might have a much enhanced one now.

So it was with a disgruntled crew that he came back aboard and weighed, his first task to return to rejoin the fleet. Digby was glad that Emily Barclay was no longer in Naples. Regardless of how that had been brought about, he had no need to call there.

The lady in question had been able to enjoy the cabin on
Semele
until the captured 74 finally entered Toulon Roads to much cheering and celebratory cannon fire, having taken shelter in the Rade de Gourjean on the way as an insurance against falling in with the British Fleet. For the same reason Admiral Martin had fallen back on the anchorage around Hyères Islands, which also prevented him from being blockaded in Toulon.

The courtesy that had been given to her up till that point did not abate; she was the recent widow of a fellow sailor, albeit an enemy. The French navy having suffered less from
the Terror than other branches, there were still officers in the service whose code demanded she be treated as an honoured guest.

Emily was given rooms in the Admiralty building, while arrangements were made to ship
Semele
’s officers to an inland fortress prison. The wounded were treated at the hospital in a fashion in no way inferior to that which they would have received in Haslar, a couple expiring but most surviving to join the rest of the men.

They were to be put to work repairing some of the damage done to the port when Lord Hood abandoned the place amid much deliberate destruction. It was seen as entirely proper that the late captain’s wife should take not only an interest in their welfare but argue for better conditions and treatment.

The saddest part of that, every time she visited them, was an inability to answer the recurring question posed. Every one of the crew wanted to know how long they would be in captivity.

Even if he was low in rank compared to the men he observed, John Pearce could sense that the attitude of those who called upon Sir William Hotham had altered. His opposite number, safely anchored in a hard-to-assault anchorage, would be claiming, if not a victory, certainly a stand-off.

In addition, the mood of the fleet was a topic of much discussion in the wardroom of
Agamemnon
and it was generally held to be a depressed one, especially when the captured French officers spoke of the naval base of Toulon being close to open revolt prior to their sailing, the troops designated for Corsica held back to keep order. How could they not have beaten such an enemy?

Lord Hood was often mentioned, the implication being that as a more active sea officer, Sam Hood would have made a better fist of what was being called The Naval Battle of Genoa. Hotham’s star had waned and Dick Farmiloe was sure that certain client officers of his were now wondering if they had hitched their cart to the wrong horse.

Those who did not see him as their patron were even less
likely to praise him and that would mean letters flying back home. These would question the leadership of the fleet from those known to be less well in favour of his appointment as C-in-C. It was tempting to seek to penetrate the bulkheads that cut Hotham off and wonder if he noticed the changed atmosphere.

In truth, Pearce, as he waited day after day to see the admiral, cared only in how that affected him. He needed to travel to Naples, a destination he was sure would be denied but he could claim he needed to get back to HMS
Flirt
in order to ensure that her commander had recovered. He could also make sure the disposal of hulls and cargo, even if it was officially frowned upon, was being properly attended to.

The difficulty was in making such a claim; Hotham would not see him and Toomey, whom he managed to beard more easily, given he was exposed in his exterior office, refused to either discuss the matter or pass the request on to the admiral. This left the supplicant at a stand, for as of this moment, having run out of money, he lacked the means to make the journey privately.

His troubles were compounded when Hotham moved back to San Fiorenzo Bay; he had even less chance of a private journey from such a remote location, now more crowded than ever since Hotham had received even more reinforcements under Rear Admiral Linzee, led by the 98-gun
Windsor Castle
.

When, after several frustrating weeks, Nelson was sent cruising, Pearce felt it best to go with him and
Agamemnon
headed out to the north seeking any indication of an enemy presence. Given the state of affairs in Toulon, added to the
fact that two of Martin’s 74’s as well as the captured
Semele
were in the base for repairs, it seemed unlikely that they would encounter any French ships.

Thus it came as a real surprise when the topsails of not one warship, but a fleet of seventeen of the line, were sighted on a southerly course. Martin had come out with his whole complement of battle-ready ships and was heading for San Fiorenzo Bay, no doubt in the hope of effecting a surprise on an inferior fleet. Nelson was of the opinion that the French were in ignorance of the recent arrivals from home.

‘So our task,’ he informed the quarterdeck, as HMS
Agamemnon
swung smoothly round to head south, ‘is to lead them into a den, which they will find full of lions.’

Nelson might command the smallest line of battle ship in the fleet but she was, by some measure, the swiftest. Thus it required guile to appear as if she was in flight while never showing her true rate of sailing. There was no doubt Martin had taken the bait; his ships were crowding on sail and there was no attempt at restraining the lead vessels desperate to close.

Agamemnon
had several lookouts aloft, one of whom had the task of seeking the first hint of the clouds that ringed the Corsican mountains. When the call came to say they were in sight, Nelson had the main deck cannon manned and fired, not at the enemy and with no round shot either, for they were out of range, but merely to alert Hotham to what he would as yet be unable to see.

As a standing order, and it had been that under Hood, the Mediterranean Fleet anchored on single cables and kept normal watches, while every captain was obliged to either be aboard – not hard since there were few temptations on the
island – or so close to his command that he could weigh at speed, and the fleet did so now.

By the time
Agamemnon
was hull up the largest of the warships were already leaving San Fiorenzo Bay, led by
Victory
, her copper bottom newly scraped clean in the Portsmouth dockyard, which stood in stark comparison to the fouled hulls of the vessels who had been in the warm waters of the Med for two years. The 100-gunner had the capability to close with the enemy most quickly and at the sight of her emerging, Nelson put up his helm to take part in what he hoped would be an oncoming battle.

Martin did not react immediately, but as
Victory
was followed out of the bay by six three-decker line of battle ships, he must have realised he risked being outgunned. Even more of a surprise would be the number of 74s in their wake, which had him outnumbered by seventeen to twenty-two capital ships. In short order, Martin ordered his fleet to wear and flee.

‘The wind will dictate his course,’ Nelson insisted, ‘and from where it is blowing precludes Toulon as a destination.’

Such a factor was of much interest to John Pearce. He had found aboard Nelson’s ship lessons to be learnt and ones not previously gifted to him in the smaller vessels on which he had generally sailed. He observed keenly the way the hierarchy of command worked with a crew made up of greater numbers than those of which had personally had charge, while the quality of the captain was a revelation.

Nelson could talk to his men in a manner few of his rank could replicate. He could appear to be as one with them without the least hint of condescension, able to share a joke and even to endure some very mild ribbing. No man aboard was in ignorance of either their duty or their captain’s aim
and what was remarkable was the way they wholeheartedly responded. In short, HMS
Agamemnon
was a happy ship as well as an effective one.

At least it was until Nelson requested permission to act independently. He desired to outstrip the rearmost Frenchmen and possibly by his action bring the whole entity to battle. The request was denied: Hotham declined to release his greyhound to snare a running French hare.
Agamemnon
was to be tied to the pace of
Victory
.

A chase that had begun in the morning looked set to last all day. With a decent breeze both fleets were eating up the sea miles, covering the short distance between Corsica and the southern French shore at a lick. Having consulted his charts, Nelson’s master was of the opinion that Gourjean was Martin’s destination, for that would avoid the need for an alteration of course and subsequent loss of speed.

‘And if we can drive him from that?’

‘The next anchorage along the coast is at Fréjus, sir. Deep inshore water and an arc of bay that he can use to form a line. That would be hard to break.’

‘But break it we must and will,’ Nelson replied, ‘that is if we cannot prevent the swine from getting there in the first place.’

He had only just come back on the deck having been in his cabin writing letters, something of which he was a ferocious proponent. In this Nelson was far from singular; all naval officers corresponded at length with home, family, fellow naval comrades and, without fail, politicians, often a local Member of Parliament. This was how they promulgated their views, praised some of their fellows and damned others in what was a very competitive environment.

Public displays of mutual regard often hid deeply conflicting views; admirals lobbied, lied and grovelled to get lucrative commands while the captains beneath them either sought to elevate themselves or diminish others, depending on their personal relationships, and purely for their own advantage.

Pearce had no doubt at all that Nelson had just dashed off letters to several folk, couched in appropriate language, questioning the abilities of the admiral who had just refused him permission to make use of the superior speed of his ship, which in essence questioned his ability as a commander. Never mind they would not be read immediately: they were a quotidian account and had value because of that.

HMS
Victory
was now in company, as was
Culloden
, captained by the irascible Thomas Troubridge. But night was falling and under a cloudy sky it was possible the enemy could escape, which to the way of thinking aboard
Agamemnon
compounded Hotham’s obvious error, this driven home when dawn showed no sign of the enemy.

They had changed course, but before the decks had been swabbed the sloop HMS
Flèche
appeared on the horizon. In a seemingly never-ending set of signals, close to one letter at a time, they informed Admiral Mann aboard
Victory
that the enemy was just over the horizon. They had sighted Martin south of the Hyères Islands and by crowding on sail they found the enemy now on a due-west heading, for what the master had reckoned to be their intended destination.

Close inshore there was a lack of wind and that allowed
Victory
,
Culloden
and
Agamemnon
to close with
Alcide
, the rearmost French 74 and to give her a severe drubbing. Martin had no choice but to seek to save his consort and his rear swung round to engage. The trio of British warships now
found themselves trading gunfire with superior enemy forces and that would continue until the rest of the fleet caught up.

‘Hard-pounding.’

That was Nelson’s comment on an artillery duel in which the larger ships took most of the brunt, with
Agamemnon
doing her best to draw off the opposition by use of her ability to manoeuvre even in light airs.
Culloden
suffered greatly in her rigging while
Victory
was near to being dismasted, so ferocious was the enemy fire. But throughout the fight
Alcide
was suffering the most, and bearing down on the enemy fleet was the van squadron of the British fleet, headed by Sam Goodall in HMS
Princess Royal
.

When
Alcide
struck her tricolour, Admiral Martin decided the risk of continuing to fight was too great and he signalled a withdrawal. Two brave French frigate captains sought to take
Alcide
in tow, only to be severely mauled for their efforts by the lower-deck 32-pounders of HMS
Victory
.

Admiral Goodall sailed past the vessels so recently engaged with his hat raised in salute. To his rear Pearce could see the rest of the fleet,
Britannia
to the fore, bearing down on an enemy once more in total flight. By the time they got abreast of
Alcide
a blaze had broken out and was consuming the forepeak.
Agamemnon
was too close for comfort when the fire reached the powder room and the ship exploded, sending bits of wood both into the air and sideways.

As was common, the fighting ships had their boats in the water. They were immediately sent to rescue the crew of the rapidly sinking French warship. The fight would continue under Goodall and if he could hold Martin up with the rest of the fleet closing, it looked as though a stunning victory might be on the cards.

The French admiral was not about to hang about and risk destruction; he was now making for Fréjus Bay where, if he could form a line with the shore at his back, he would present a formidable obstacle. Anchored, the firing platform would be steady and by central control the target could be directed in a more destructive way by the combined concentration of shot on single targets.

‘Flag signalling, sir,’ called the midshipman who held the book. ‘General order to all ships. Cease firing and rejoin flag.’

‘He’s mad,’ Nelson exploded. ‘We have them by the throat.’

‘More flags, sir, a repeat of the same order.’

In essence it had little effect on
Agamemnon
. The 64-gunner had done her job and so had
Victory
and
Culloden
, now occupied in carrying out repairs, this while their boats picked up survivors from the now sunken
Alcide
. It was later reported that Sam Goodall, in frustration, had kicked his hat all over the quarterdeck of
Princess Royal
when the order was relayed to him.

Hotham had to be obeyed; he was in command and that left no option that did not include a court martial. As ordered, the fleet retreated to San Fiorenzo where it quickly became common gossip that Hotham was claiming once more he had done well. Few agreed and now what had been a slight air of depressed wonder turned into open condemnation of a man seen as too weak for the task he had been given.

Pearce was again at his door seeking and being refused entry, and that lasted until the arrival of HMS
Flirt
, at which point he felt his whole life to be changed.

As Michael O’Hagan described it nothing could have been done – he was one against too many – so the best he could have hoped for was that, beaten to a pulp, he would be taken aboard the 74 along with Emily. Given he had manhandled Barclay, his fate then would have been certain: the bastard would have probably strung him up but not before he had severely lacerated his back with the cat.

‘Still, John-boy, it is for sure I feel ashamed of myself.’

‘Not as much as I do.’

Pearce found it hard to contain his fury, not so much at his friend as at his own impotence. He had not acted quickly enough in the matter of getting back to Naples and Emily had paid the price. Even worse, he had sat watching
Semele
fight and be taken – when he now knew she must have been aboard – and had done nothing to prevent it.

Had he voiced such thoughts Pearce would have been told the truth: he too would be a captive if he had sought to effect the outcome, and really the question was obvious. What was he going to do now? His first thought had been that the French would not keep captive a woman, until he realised that as the wife of the captain, Emily would be seen as part and parcel of the whole. She had been a prisoner before when HMS
Brilliant
had been captured and taken into Toulon.