Nelson (94 page)

At nine-fifteen the British frigate
Inconstant
of thirty-six guns headed the chase and came close enough to the
Ça Ira
to open fire on her, like an impudent coyote yapping at the heels of a buffalo. The
Inconstant
was not a happy ship. Captain Fremantle had been accused of cruelty and had had to suppress a mutiny; five of its ringleaders were still awaiting trial. Now, however, the ship acquitted herself magnificently in a duel with a massively superior opponent. Under normal circumstances a frigate would not have tangled with any ship of the line, let alone a monster like the
Ça Ira
. But Fremantle realised that the wreckage pulling the French ship over to leeward was immobilising her starboard broadside, and though her men were frantically clearing the debris away he had a brief opportunity to attack. Fremantle knew he could not fight the
Ça Ira
for long, but if he damaged and delayed her he could buy time for British ships of the line to come up.

Fremantle was a man of Nelson’s stamp. He too chafed at Hotham’s supine leadership and longed for chances to show his mettle, and he did not lead the British chase by accident. As soon as he had seen the collision among the enemy ships he had cleared for action and thrown his livestock overboard to remove every impediment to his gun crews. The little
Inconstant
passed under the crippled lee of the French giant and fired a broadside into her, then tacked and fired another. The
Ça Ira
’s upper-deck guns and some of the lower tier managed an indifferent reply, cutting up the frigate’s rigging and sails, but, as the French ship’s wreckage fell away and she righted, her murderous broadside swung into position. Nevertheless, with remarkable courage Fremantle went in for a third attack, and fired another broadside. But now the
Inconstant
was mauled by a withering discharge from the
Ça Ira
, as well as a broadside from the French frigate the
Vestale
as she moved in to throw a tow hawser to her injured consort. With a serious hole through the
Inconstant
’s hull, ‘between wind and water’, and seventeen of his men killed and wounded, Fremantle finally had to forgo the unequal contest.
⁵³

His fight had not been in vain, for as the
Inconstant
retired she was passed to windward by the leading British ship of the line, the
Agamemnon
. It was about ten-fifteen, and from his quarterdeck Nelson
could see that he was to windward of the oncoming British fleet and far in advance. The nearest consort was the
Captain
, a seventy-four under Samuel Reeve, but she was still too far away to help. Ahead, however, the lumbering
Ça Ira
had not only cleared away some of her wreckage and restored most of her guns to order, but was being supported. The
Sans-Culotte
and
Jean Bart
fast approached ‘about gun-shot distance on her weather bow’, while the
Vestale
was taking her in tow. It may have been at this point that Nelson called for an opinion from Andrews, now first lieutenant in the place of the promoted Hinton. Should he attack? We cannot be sure, but Nelson later wrote that ‘if the conduct of the
Agamemnon
. . . on the 13th was by any means the cause of our success on the 14th . . . [then] Lieutenant Andrews has a principal share in the merit, for a more proper opinion was never given by an officer than the one he gave me on the 13th, in a situation of great difficulty’.
⁵⁴

Nelson made his decision. Size, range, weight of metal and manpower were heavily against him, but speed and skill were something else, and he knew the capabilities of the
Agamemnon
and her crew. Grimly the sixty-four closed upon its big antagonist. Aboard her Nelson’s ‘poor brave fellows’ had been summoned to action stations by a stirring drum tattoo, and gone about their routine with effortless precision. Decks were cleared, seven unfortunate bawling bullocks were pitched into the sea to prevent them plunging about the ship in terror, galley fires were extinguished and water thrown over vulnerable inflammables. Every man stood silently to his own dreadful calling: the surgeon and his mates waiting for the mutilated casualties, the uniformed marines ready to pick off officers or snipers from the enemy decks and fighting tops, and the sweaty sailors in trousers and kerchiefs, some scrambling aloft like monkeys but most standing expectantly by their guns. Each man was schooled in his part. Gun captains stood ready to train the cannons, prick open the cartridges beneath the touchholes, and release the firing locks with their lanyards, while their crews took their allotted positions. Some waited to sponge bores or ram down cartridges, wadding and shot, while others with strong limbs and backs braced themselves at the blocks and tackle, poised to haul the heavy pieces in and out of their ports or raise or depress them with chunky wooden quoins. Juniors stood nervously by, ready to feed shot and cartridges to the guns.
⁵⁵

Most of the lieutenants were supervising the gun crews, but Andrews was beside Nelson on the quarterdeck with the master, John Wilson,
and some of Nelson’s favourite midshipmen, who scurried about as aides, determined not to let their captain down. A fortnight later Nelson wrote of Hoste, ‘what a good young man – I love him dearly, and both him and Josiah are as brave fellows as ever walked’. They had obviously discharged their duties with credit.
⁵⁶

The
Agamemnon
was within range of the
Ça Ira
by ten-twenty, but Nelson reserved his fire. He wanted to get within point-blank range of the Frenchman’s stern before raking her from one end to the other, but the enemy had better gunners than he suspected. Though the
Ça Ira
could only bring its stern chasers to bear on the advancing ship, it made every shot count. Blasts of smoke and flame and the thunder of guns from the crippled Frenchman opened the contest, blowing holes through the
Agamemnon
’s sails, and splintering masts, spars and rigging aloft. Nelson must have been relieved. As they so often did, the French were firing high, hoping to damage his mobility, but this was not the most effective way to fight. If the
Agamemnon
lost her masts she would be paralysed and cut to pieces by the French ships, but most of the enemy shot screamed into thin air to splash harmlessly astern.

Chillingly silent, the
Agamemnon
crept closer without deigning to reply, her guns peering menacingly from her ports and their crews listening for the command. Nelson was still not as close as he wanted, but after twenty-five minutes under the
Ça Ira
’s guns he had had enough. He ordered Mr Wilson to put the helm a-starboard and the driver and after sails to be braced up and shivered. This made the bow of the ship fall off, and swung her broadside towards the towering stern of the
Ça Ira
. The guns roared along the whole of the
Agamemnon
’s side, recoiling savagely against their tackle, and sending ball after ball into the enemy ship. It was no amateur broadside, but a performance no other ship in the Mediterranean could have surpassed. These gunners had practised again and again, at sea and ashore, and fired tens of thousands of shot and shells in Corsica only the year before. The rate and accuracy of their fire were awesome, and they discharged their guns double-shotted, loading two round shot instead of one to increase the power of each broadside. It was a practice that sacrificed range and accuracy for velocity, but at this distance it did not matter; gunners like these did not miss. They directed a full broadside straight into the
Ça Ira
’s most vulnerable target – her stern and quarter – smashing through the after cabins, throwing wood and glass everywhere, and ploughing along the decks with terrific force,
hurling guns off carriages, filling the air with hideous flying splinters and butchering men.

After the first broadside, Nelson ordered the after sails to be braced up and the helm put a-port so that the
Agamemnon
recovered its sailing position. Then he went after the
Ça Ira
again, and as he closed he repeated his earlier manoeuvre, sending another broadside into the French stern and quarter. The seamanship and gunnery of the British ship now told with devastating effect. The
Ça Ira
, her mobility crippled by the loss of her topmasts, was also fettered by the towing frigate, which kept her head forward. Not only that but unknown to Nelson she was ‘miserably manned in point of seamen’. Only about fifty of her crew were able seamen, a few more ‘ordinary seafaring people’, and the mass of her enormous complement raw conscripts and soldiers. The officers were little better, if Elliot, who later entertained them at his table, is to be believed. He excepted the captain as ‘an intelligent fellow’, but thought his juniors ‘such ragamuffins as have seldom been seen out of France’. Lady Elliot was so repelled by their appearance and manners that she sat silent for two hours, nursing an opinion that the ship’s second officer could have passed for Bluebeard. During the battle the men of the
Ça Ira
fought bravely, but without discipline, order or skill.
⁵⁷

For two hours it went on. Held fast by her frigate, the
Ça Ira
was unable to turn to train her formidable broadside upon the diminutive assailant hammering volley after volley into her stern and quarters, and skipping about ‘with as much exactness as if she had been turning in to Spithead’. Only a few stern guns could reply, and their futile fire was wide of the mark. Slowly the French ship was turned into ‘a perfect wreck’. Her sails were shredded and her mizzen topmast, mizzen topsail and cross jackyards shot away. As parts of her wooden walls imploded, her decks were bloodied by dead, wounded and dying men.
⁵⁸

Remarkably, though for part of the time the
Sans-Culotte
and
Jean Bart
were at no great distance, on the
Agamemnon
’s starboard bow, they made no attempt to aid their stricken colleague, as if mesmerised by the savaging she was taking from such an undersized antagonist. But at about one in the afternoon the towing frigate hove in her stays and turned, bringing the broken
Ça Ira
around with her. Now prey and predator approached each other on opposite tacks, and for the first time those fearsome French broadside guns were brought to bear. The two ships passed each other ‘within half pistol-shot’, exchanging a furious fire as they did so.
⁵⁹

This was the most desperate moment of the fight as far as Nelson was concerned. This, if ever, was the time when the
Agamemnon
risked taking a terrible beating, but the flawed French tactic of firing high saved her. Though the British ship’s sails and rigging were badly damaged, most of the French shot flew right over the
Agamemnon
. Hardly anything hit her hull. As Nelson told his brother, ‘That Being who has ever in a most wonderful manner protected me during the many dangers I have encountered this war [is] still shielding me and my brave ship’s company. I cannot account for what I saw. Whole broadsides within half-pistol shot [range] missing my little ship, whilst ours was in the fullest effect.’
⁶⁰

After the ships had passed one another, Nelson fired his after guns and then hove in stays to turn her round, his ‘poor brave fellows’ serving their pieces so well that they were able to recharge and maintain an almost continuous fire. But now the
Sans-Culotte
and several other French ships had wore, and were under the
Agamemnon
’s lee bow, standing with their topgallant sails billowing to pass to leeward. Nelson had done the best he could, but he had no choice other than to leave off action. His struggle was being seen from the British fleet, and at one-fifteen Hotham signalled Nelson to disengage. The
Agamemnon
hauled off, and stood for her consorts, and the final shots – fired by the
Sans-Culotte
– failed to reach her. The French did not chase the retreating battleship. Instead they gathered in their wounded eighty-gunner and continued their retreat.

It had been a remarkable fight. Nelson lost only seven men wounded (three fatally), while the
Ça Ira
reportedly suffered losses of 110 men. The French ship was so badly damaged that she could not replace her missing topmasts, and remained crippled the following day, thus setting up the final round of the action. Her adversary, the
Agamemnon
, rejoined Hotham’s line of battle, and her men worked into the night to complete their repairs as the fleets continued westwards. Nelson was proud of his performance, but decried the failure of the other British ships of the line to support him. ‘What has happened,’ he trilled to Fanny, ‘perhaps may never happen to anyone again – that only one ship-of-the-line out of fourteen should get into action with the French fleet, and for so long a time as 21/2 hours, and with such a ship as the
Ça Ira
, but had I been supported, I should certainly have brought the
Sans-Culotte
to battle, a most glorious prospect!’ This was not entirely true, however. The log of the
Captain
records that she, too, engaged, exchanging shots with an unspecified
enemy ship of the line and a frigate for the thirty minutes before one o’clock.
⁶¹

The consummation of the intrepidity of Fremantle and Nelson occurred the following day when the battle resumed, though the French had misplaced two of their ships, one the
Sans-Culotte
, their only three-decker, which accidentally separated from her companions and found sanctuary in Genoa. Daybreak of 14 March saw the rest of the fleets seven or so leagues further southwest, making the best of light winds, haze and drizzling rain. The wretched
Ça Ira
had been unable to restore its topmasts, and was being towed by a seventy-four, the
Censeur
, captained by Jean-Félix Benoît. She, like the
Ça Ira
, was carrying part of the army destined for Corsica and was overmanned, with 921 or perhaps even a thousand men aboard. Both ships were, however, in serious trouble. They had fallen astern and to leeward of the rest of their fleet, which was struggling in light winds on the larboard tack some one and a half miles to the southwest. About three and a half miles away were the British, and when Hotham picked up a northerly breeze that put him to windward and in a good position to attack, he made for the isolated ships. The British admiral was strongly placed. At least he could cut off and capture the two Frenchmen, and he might even provoke their countrymen into offering battle to save them.