Nelson: The Essential Hero (37 page)

There were as yet no grounds for real gossip. All was pretence, at least on Emma’s part, .who was merely striking one of her ‘attitudes’ as the constant companion of Victory, embodied in Nelson. Nor had Sir William any reason to suspect that a wife who had been faithful to him for so many years, and who had never in any way been touched by the constant scandal of a scandalous city, could possibly be acting in any other way than as the proud friend of a great and noble man. Sir William regarded Nelson as the son he had never had : the embodiment of old English values and virtues.

It was not until late November that any action was initiated against the French in Italy, and had more careful thought been applied to the situation the Neapolitan army would have stayed where it was. The Austrians had refused to commit themselves to what they regarded as a rash adventure, while the Marquis de Gallo, Ferdinand’s Foreign Minister (who had always been opposed to any military action), began to weaken the King’s resolution - which in any case had only been lent any form of strength by the presence of Nelson. Sir William Hamilton was also in something of a quandary, for he had explicit instructions from London to avoid any action being taken against the French unless he could be sure of ‘the fullest assurance of support’ from the Austrian government. It was Nelson and his insistence on the necessity of attack that won the day, and forced the irresolute Ferdinand and the (as it proved) incompetent General Mack to make a move. In a sense, it was a Tenerife all over again. Nelson’s belief that any activity was better than none - that action would always solve everything - was once more to prove fatal.

The army set out from San Germano on 22 November, at the same time as Nelson and his squadron sailed for Leghorn. The plan was for the ships to land troops and make a surprise attack in the rear of the French while Ferdinand and Mack attacked Rome from the south. The first part succeeded admirably, Leghorn surrendering unconditionally. For a brief moment success also attended the Neapolitan Army, the French withdrawing from Rome to reorganise themselves outside the city. They were indeed, if only momentarily, taken by surprise, since for one thing their country was not at war with Naples. On 29 November Ferdinand entered Rome in triumph - a little over a week later he was in full flight. The French under General Ghampionnet had turned to the attack and, although they were only half the number of Mack’s army, soon proved that they were much more than a match for it, that they were without doubt the finest soldiers in Europe. The retreat of the Neapolitans - ‘la plus belle armee d’Europe’ as Mack had earlier called them - became a shameful rout, officers throwing aside their arms and seizing horses and carriages to escape, while the body of the army abandoned all discipline and ran south for Naples as fast as it could go. Nelson commented bitterly: ‘The Neapolitan officers have not lost much honour, for God knows they had but little to lose, but they lost all they had.’ Foremost in the retreat, disguised as a civilian, was King Ferdinand.

A
document
headed
Most Secret
tells the tale of the next few days. Dated ‘Naples,
December 20, 1798’,
it reads: Three barges, and the small cutter of the
Alcmene,
armed with cutlasses only, to be at the Victoria at
half past seven
o’clock precisely. Only one barge to be seen at the wharf, the others to lay on their oars at the outside of the rocks - the small barge of the
Vanguard
to be at the wharf. The above boats to be on board the
Alcmene
before seven o’clock, under the direction of Captain Hope.
Grapnells to be in the boats.

All the other boats of the
Vanguard
and
Alcmene
to be armed with cutlasses, and the launches and carronades to assemble on board the
Vanguard,
under the direction of Captain Hardy, and to put off from her at half-past eight o’clock
precisely, to row half way towards the Mola Figlio. These boats to have 4 or 6 soldiers in them. In case assistance is wanted by me
_}
false fires will be burnt
.

NELSON

The Alcmene to be ready to slip in the night, if necessary.

The Neapolitan attack on Rome had given the French the opportunity, and a valid reason, for a move on Naples. The city had a strong Republican faction, particularly among the educated middle-classes, and King Ferdinand’s regime was doomed from the moment that he and his army fled back to the illusory safety of his kingdom. In reality there was no safety, and only the
lazzaroni
, the sturdy riffraff of the Neapolitan slums and waterfront, held their King in any regard. Sir William Hamilton had already seen to his effects and had arranged for the safety of the British residents in Naples. Meanwhile the Queen had sent countless boxes, trunks and jewel cases to Emma Hamilton at the Palazzo Sessa, whence they were surreptitiously forwarded to the waiting British. One letter from the Queen reads, ‘I venture to send you this evening all our Spanish money, both the King’s and my own, they are sixty thousand gold ducats.’ She wrote further on 19 December, 'I abuse your goodness and our brave Admiral’s. Let the great boxes be thrown in the hold and the little ones be near at hand. It is so, because I have unfortunately an immense family. I am in the despair of desolation and my tears flow incessantly. The blow, its suddenness has bewildered me, and I do not think I shall recover from it.’ In the midst of all this secrecy and of the preparations for the flight of the royal family, Emma Hamilton was in her element. She relished the high drama of it all but, quite apart from that, she was a competent organiser. For so long the Queen’s closest confidante (a role in which she saw herself as dominant, unknowing how much the Queen manipulated her), Emma now found a real
raison d'etre
in acting as the link between her ‘adorable unfortunate Queen’ and her heroic Admiral.

Extracts from the
Vanguard's
journal show the pattern of those last feverish days as the royal family together with their court prepared to flee from the city that they rightly saw as doomed - not by the eruption of Vesuvius but of revolutionary sentiments among many of their own people, and by the uncontested advance of the French Army.

December 18th. Sailmakers making cots for the Royal Family: Painters painting the wardroom and offices under the poop; getting ready for sea, and getting off the valuable effects of Her Sicilian Majesty in the night time.

Thursday, 19th. Smuggling on board the Queen’s diamonds &c. [Sir William Hamilton estimated that the treasure and money carried aboard the
Vanguard
and other ships amounted to two and a half million sterling.]

Friday, 21st. At 10
am,
their Sicilian Majesties and the Royal Family embarked on board, as did the British Ambassador and family, the Imperial Ambassador and suite, several of the Neapolitan nobles and their servants, and most of the English gentlemen and merchants that were in Naples.

Nelson had been present at the corner of the Arsenal at half-past eight that night and had gone to the palace by a long tunnel which communicated with the Victoria landing stage. He had supervised the departure of the royal family (cloaked and hooded) into the waiting barge-which rose and fell in a long swell that presaged the advent of bad weather. The evacuation of the royal family and of all their dependants was carried out with the minimum of fuss. Only one man was deeply troubled and aggrieved by the fact that the King and Queen were seeking safety aboard Nelson’s flagship
Vanguard
. This was Commodore Caracciolo, Bailli of the Order of Malta, who was in command of the Neapolitan Navy. He had pleaded for the privilege of taking his monarch to his other capital, Palermo, but had had his application refused - on the good ground that there was trouble in his fleet, and some of the ships’ companies had even gone ashore and refused to man their ships. The only security was to be found with Nelson and the British.

Among those who did not leave Naples was Baron Mack. He had nothing to report to the departing King but total failure. His army had largely melted away, and his only instructions now were to fall back on Sicily if he was unable to hold Naples. Even Nelson, who held no brief for him, was forced to comment: ‘My heart bled for him, he is. worn to a shadow.’ As for King Ferdinand, not even the loss of his beautiful capital and of the major part of his kingdom could bring him to his senses or afford him any realisation of the gravity of the situation. When Sir William Hamilton stood by him, as the
Vanguard
made sail and drew out of the bay, he listened with close attention for any words from the King which might indicate his future plans. Ferdinand drew a deep breath of air, inhaling the salty tang of the winter wind, and said comfortably : ‘We shall have plenty of woodcocks,
Cavaliere
, this wind will bring them in - it is just the season, we shall have rare sport. You must get your
cannone
ready!’

But the wind which was just beginning to blow brought them far more than just rare sport. Nelson was to record how, ‘On the 23rd, at 7
pm
the
Vanguard
,
Sannite
, and
Archimedes
, with about twenty sail of Vessels left the Bay of Naples; the next day it blew harder than I ever experienced since I have been at sea.’ Christmas Eve was certainly a day to remember, with a storm of such violence that all communication was lost between the wallowing ships. The
Vanguard
split her three topsails and was even in some danger of foundering, while the confusion and sickness among the already dejected evacuees was such that many would have wished themselves back in Naples -even if the French had already arrived. Sir William Hamilton, having helped his fellow passengers as far as he could, adopted a philosophic attitude and retired to a cabin, where Emma found him seated with a brace of loaded pistols in his hands. He was determined, he said, not to go down with ‘the guggle, guggle, guggle of salt water in his throat’ but to shoot himself the moment he felt the ship sinking. It was Emma who was the heroine of the voyage, the only civilian, it would seem, to retain her head and to try to put some spirit into her demoralised companions. If there was one virtue that Nelson held above all others it was courage, and he saw it in Emma. It probably was to count almost as much with him as her beauty, for he now admired a high spirit and an indomitable quality that he had probably never seen in a woman before. In his letter to St Vincent describing the evacuation in detail, and the stormy passage southward to Sicily, he wrote of his concern about the safety of the royal family and how : On the 25th, at 9
am
Prince Albert, their Majesties’ youngest child, having eat a hearty breakfast, was taken ill, and at 7
pm
died in the arms of Lady Hamilton; and here it is my duty to tell your Lordship the obligations which the whole Royal Family as well as myself are under on this trying occasion to her Ladyship. They necessarily came on board without a bed, nor could the least preparations be made for their reception. Lady Hamilton provided her own beds, linen, &c., and became
their slave
, for except one man, no person belonging to Royalty assisted the Royal Family, nor did her Ladyship enter a bed the whole time they were on board.

Beauty allied with courage and endurance, glimpsed against the background of storm and of sick and frightened human beings, made an unforgettable impression.

Two events marred the peace of mind both of Sir William Hamilton and Nelson not very long after their arrival in Palermo. Sir William had sent the pick of his collection of classical vases to England in a transport which, while sheltering in Scilly Roads, dragged her anchor and sank. Only a few cases were recovered some months later, and it remained until the twentieth century for diving expertise to develop sufficiently for any fragments of the rest to be salvaged. Nelson’s unease, and indeed downright anger, stemmed from the fact that the Admiralty, seeking for some way in which to employ his undoubted talents, had despatched Captain Sir Sidney Smith to the Levant with the joint task of exercising naval command in that area as well as diplomatic powers in conjunction with his younger brother Spencer, who was British Minister in Constantinople. Sir Sidney held the order of the Sword of Sweden (Nelson referred to him bitterly as ‘the Swedish knight’), and was a colourful and histrionic character cast in somewhat the same mould as Nelson himself. Nelson saw in this new Admiralty appointment an intolerable situation, where a captain was being sent to take over a salient part of his own command - and in the very area where he had just won so resounding a victory. 7
do feel, for I am a man
/ he wrote to St Vincent, ‘that it is impossible for me to serve in these seas under a junior officer: - could I have thought it! - and from Earl Spencer ! Never, never was I so astonished as your letter made me. As soon as I can get hold of Troubridge, I shall send him to Egypt, to endeavour to destroy the Ships in Alexandria. If it can be done, Troubridge will do it.’ His temper erupts again later in the same letter when he begs permission to be allowed to retire and return to England aboard the
Vanguard
along with ‘my friends, Sir William and Lady Hamilton’.

In the event, St Vincent managed to cushion the arrival of Sir Sidney in the Levant against Nelson’s anger and maintain the same dispositions, with the latter in overall command. Smith went on fully to justify the Admiralty’s confidence in him, becoming the hero of the hour in his conduct of the defence of Acre. In command of Turkish troops reinforced by British sailors, he ensured so stout a resistance that Napoleon was forced to abandon the siege of the city. Already worsted by Nelson at Aboukir Bay, Napoleon was to find an indomitable opponent in ‘the Swedish knight’, who became the first Englishman to defeat the great Frenchman on land. The stubborn and successful defence of Acre, coupled with the immense losses (largely from malaria) of the Army of the East, checked Napoleon’s eastern ambitions and proved a turning point in his career. He was later to say of Sir Sidney Smith: ‘That man made me miss my destiny.’