Drake, Nelson and Napoleon by Walter Runciman

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DRAKE, NELSON AND NAPOLEON

Studies by

SIR WALTER RUNCIMAN, BART

Illustrated

London
T. Fisher Unwin Ltd.
Adelphi Terrace

1919

DEDICATORY LETTER TO SIR JAMES KNOTT

MY DEAR SIR JAMES,

We have travelled far since those early days when you and I, who are
of totally different tastes and temperament, first met and became
friends. I was attracted by your wide knowledge, versatile vigour of
mind, and engaging personality, which subsequent years have not
diminished. You were strenuously engaged at that time in breaking down
the weevilly traditions of a bygone age, and helping to create a new
era in the art of steamship management, and, at the same time,
studying for the Bar; and were I writing a biography of you, I would
have to include your interesting travels in distant lands in quest of
business and organizing it. That must be left for another occasion,
when the vast results to the commercial life of the country to which
you contributed may be fittingly told.

At the present time my vision recalls our joyous yachting cruises on
the Clyde, when poor Leadbitter added to the charm that stays. Perhaps
best of all were the golden days when we habitually took our week-end
strolls together by the edge of the inspiriting splendour of the blue
North Sea, strolls which are hallowed by many memories, and gave me
an opportunity of listening to your vehement flashes of human
sympathies, which are so widely known now. It is my high appreciation
of those tender gifts and of your personal worth, together with the
many acts of kindness and consideration shown to me when I have been
your guest, that gives me the desire to inscribe this book to you and
Lady Knott, and to the memory of your gallant sons, Major Leadbitter
Knott, D.S.O., who was killed while leading his battalion in a
terrific engagement in Flanders, and Captain Basil Knott, who fell so
tragically a few months previously at his brother's side.

With every sentiment of esteem,
I am, dear Sir James,
Ever yours sincerely,

WALTER RUNCIMAN.

March 1919.

PREFACE

This book has evolved from another which I had for years been urged to
write by personal friends. I had chatted occasionally about my own
voyages, related incidents concerning them and the countries and
places I had visited, the ships I had sailed in, the men I had sailed
with, and the sailors of that period. It is one thing to tell
sea-tales in a cosy room and to enjoy living again for a brief time in
the days that are gone; but it is another matter when one is asked to
put the stories into book form. Needless to say for a long time I
shrank from undertaking the task, but was ultimately prevailed upon to
do so. The book was commenced and was well advanced, and, as I could
not depict the sailors of my own period without dealing--as I thought
at the time--briefly with the race of men called buccaneers who were
really the creators of the British mercantile marine and Navy, who
lived centuries before my generation, I was obliged to deal with some
of them, such as Hawkins, Drake, Frobisher, Daimper, Alexander Selkirk
of Robinson Crusoe fame, and others who combined piracy with commerce
and sailorism. After I had written all I thought necessary about the
three former, I instinctively slipped on to Nelson as the greatest
sea personality of the beginning of the last century. I found the
subject so engrossing that I could not centre my thoughts on any
other, so determined to continue my narrative, which is not, and never
was intended to be a life of Nelson. Perhaps it may be properly termed
fragmentary thoughts and jottings concerning the life of an
extraordinary human force, written at intervals when I had leisure
from an otherwise busy life.

Even if I had thought it desirable, it was hardly possible to write
about Nelson without also dealing with Britain's great adversary and
Nelson's distracted opinion of him.

It would be futile to attempt to draw a comparison between the two
men. The one was a colossal human genius, and the other, extraordinary
in the art of his profession, was entirely without the faculty of
understanding or appreciating the distinguished man he flippantly
raged at from his quarterdeck.

But be that as it may, Nelson's terrific aversion to and explosions
against the French and Napoleon, in whose history I had been absorbed
for many years, seem to me to be the deliberate outpouring of a mind
governed by feeling rather than by knowledge as to the real cause of
the wars and of how we came to be involved and continue in them. Nor
does he ever show that he had any clear conception of the history of
Napoleon's advent as the Ruler of the People with whom we were at war.

I have given this book the title of "Drake, Nelson and Napoleon"
because it seemed to me necessary to bring in Drake, the prototype,
and Napoleon, the antagonist of Nelson.

Drake's influence bore fruit in what is known as the Fleet Tradition,
which culminated in the "Nelson touch." No excuse is needed,
therefore, for writing a chapter which shows how little the seaman's
character has changed in essentials since that time. To-day, our
sailors have the same simple direct force which characterized the
Elizabethan seamen and those of Nelsonian times.

Of Napoleon I have written fully in my book "The Tragedy of St.
Helena," and have contented myself here with pointing out how the
crass stupidity and blind prejudice of his opponents have helped
largely to bring about the world-war of our own times. I have also
endeavoured to contrast the statesmanlike attitude of Napoleon with
the short-sighted policy of England's politicians and their allies at
that time.

Having planned the book on such lines, it inevitably follows that
Nelson must occupy a larger space in it than either Drake or Napoleon,
but for that I offer no apology.

WALTER RUNCIMAN.

March 1919.

CONTENTS

DEDICATORY LETTER

PREFACE

1. DRAKE AND THE FLEET TRADITION

2. NELSON AND HIS CIRCLE
TRAFALGAR, OCT. 21st, 1805
(_a_) BRITISH ORDER OF BATTLE
(_b_) A LIST OF THE COMBINED FLEET OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

3. NAPOLEON AND HIS CONNECTION WITH THE WORLD-WAR

4. SEA SONGS

APPENDIX: SOME INCIDENTS OF NELSON'S LIFE
(CHRONOLOGICALLY ARRANGED)

INDEX

ILLUSTRATIONS

LINE OF BATTLE SHIP (EARLY EIGHTEENTH CENTURY)
DRAKE
NELSON
LADY HAMILTON AS "A SIBYL"
CAPTAIN HARDY (OF THE "VICTORY")
"PRINCESS CHARLOTTE."--FRIGATE (EARLY NINETEENTH CENTURY)
H.M.S. "VICTORY" GOING INTO BATTLE AT TRAFALGAR
ADMIRAL COLLINGWOOD
THE EMPEROR NAPOLEON AFTER HIS ACCESSION

DRAKE AND THE FLEET TRADITION

I

The great sailors of the Elizabethan era--Hawkins, Drake, Frobisher,
Howard, Davis, and Sir Humphrey Gilbert--were the prototypes of the
sailors of the nineteenth century. They discovered new lands, opened
up new avenues of commerce, and combined these legitimate forms of
enterprise with others which at this date would be regarded as rank
piracy. Since, however, they believed themselves to be the ambassadors
of God, they did everything in His name, whether it were the seizing
of Spanish treasure or the annexing of new worlds by fair means or
foul, believing quite sincerely in the sanctity of what they did with
a seriousness and faith which now appear almost comic.

For many years the authorities of the Inquisition had plundered goods
and put to death English seamen and merchants, and Spanish Philip,
when remonstrated with, shrugged his shoulders and repudiated the
responsibility by saying that he had no power over the "Holy House."
Drake retaliated by taking possession of and bringing to England a
million and a half of Spanish treasure while the two countries were
not at war. It is said that when Drake laid hands on the bullion at
Panama he sent a message to the Viceroy that he must now learn not to
interfere with the properties of English subjects, and that if four
English sailors who were prisoners in Mexico were ill-treated he would
execute two thousand Spaniards and send him their heads. Drake never
wasted thought about reprisals or made frothy apologetic speeches as
to what would happen to those with whom he was at religious war if
they molested his fellow-countrymen. He met atrocity with atrocity. He
believed it to be his mission to avenge the burning of British seamen
and the Spanish and Popish attempts on the life of his virgin
sovereign. That he knew her to be an audacious flirt, an insufferable
miser, and an incurable political intriguer whose tortuous moves had
to be watched as vigilantly as Philip's assassins and English
traitors, is apparent from reliable records. His mind was saturated
with the belief in his own high destiny, as the chosen instrument to
break the Spanish power in Europe. He was insensible to fear, and knew
how to make other people fear and obey him. He was not only an
invincible crusader, but one of those rare personalities who have the
power of infusing into his comrades his own courage and enthusiasm.
The Spanish said he was "a magician who had sold his soul to the
devil." The Spanish sailors, and Philip himself, together with his
nobles, were terror-stricken at the mention of his name. He was to
them an invincible dragon. Santa Cruz warned his compatriots that the
heretics "had teeth, and could use them." Here is another instance,
selected from many, of the fanatical superstitions concerning Drake's
irresistible power. Medina Sidonia had deserted the Andalusian
squadron. Drake came across the flagship. Her commander said he was
Don Pedro de Valdes, and could only surrender on honourable terms. The
English commander replied, "I am Drake, and have no time to parley.
Don Pedro must surrender or fight." So Don Pedro surrendered to the
gallant captain of the _Revenge_, and lavished him with praise,
evidently glad to have fallen into the hands of so famous and generous
a foe. Drake is said to have treated his captive with elaborate
generosity, while his crew commandeered all the vast treasure. He then
sent the galleon into Dartmouth Harbour, and set off with his
prisoners to chase Medina Sidonia.

In the whole range of Drake's adventurous career there does not appear
to be any evidence of his having been possessed with the idea of
supernatural assistance, though if perchance he missed any of Philip's
treasure-ships he complacently reported "the reason" to those in
authority as "being best known to God," and there the incident ended.
On the other hand, the Deity was no mystery to him. His belief in a
Supreme Power was real, and that he worked in harmony with It he never
doubted. When he came across anything on land or sea which he thought
should be appropriated for the benefit of his Queen and country, or
for himself and those who were associated with him in his piratical
enterprises, nothing was allowed to stand in his way, and, generally
speaking, he paralysed all resistance to his arms into submission by
an inexorable will and genius. The parsimonious Elizabeth was always
slyly willing to receive the proceeds of his dashing deeds, but never
unduly generous in fixing his share of them. She allowed her ships to
lie rotting when they should have been kept in sound and efficient
condition, and her sailors to starve in the streets and seaports.
Never a care was bestowed on these poor fellows to whom she owed so
much. Drake and Hawkins, on the other hand, saw the national danger,
and founded a war fund called the "Chatham Chest"; and, after great
pressure, the Queen granted L20,000 and the loan of six battleships to
the Syndicate. Happily the commercial people gave freely, as they
always do. What trouble these matchless patriots had to overcome!
Intrigue, treason, religious fanaticism, begrudging of supplies, the
constant shortage of stores and provisions at every critical stage of
a crisis, the contradictory instructions from the exasperating Tudor
Queen: the fleet kept in port until the chances of an easy victory
over England's bitterest foes had passed away! But for the vacillation
of the icy virgin, Drake's Portugal expedition would have put the
triumph of the Spanish Armada to the blush, and the great Admiral
might have been saved the anguish of misfortune that seemed to follow
his future daring adventures for Spanish treasure on land and sea
until the shadows of failure compassed him round. His spirit broken
and his body smitten with incurable disease, the fleet under his
command anchored at Puerto Bello after a heavy passage from Escudo de
Veragua, a pestilential desert island. He was then in delirium, and on
the 28th January, 1596, the big soul of our greatest seaman passed
away beyond the veil. His body was put into a lead and oak coffin and
taken a few miles out to sea, and amidst manifestations of great
sorrow he was lowered down the side and the waters covered him over.
Two useless prize ships were sunk beside him, and there they may still
lie together. The fleet, having lost their guiding spirit, weighed
anchor and shaped their course homewards.

Drake was not merely a seaman and the creator of generations of
sailors, but he was also a sea warrior of superb naval genius. It was
he who invented the magnificent plan of searching for his country's
enemies in every creek into which he could get a craft. He also imbued
Her Gracious Majesty and Her Gracious Majesty's seamen with the idea
that in warfare on sea or land it is a first principle to strike first
if you wish to gain the field and hold it. Having smashed his
antagonist, he regarded it as a plain duty in the name of God to live
on his beaten foes and seize their treasures of gold, silver,
diamonds, works of art, etc., wherever these could be laid hold of.
The First Lady of the Land was abashed at the gallant sailor's bold
piratical efforts. She would not touch the dirty, ill-gotten stuff
until the noble fellow had told her the fascinating story of his
matchless adventures and slashing successes. Doubtless the astute
Admiral had learned that his blameless Queen was only averse to
sharing with him the plunder of a risky voyage until he had assured
her again and again that her cousin, Philip of Spain, had his
voracious eye on her life, her throne, and all her British
possessions, wherever they might be.

The valiant seaman appears to have played daintily and to good effect
with the diabolical acts of the Spaniards, such as the burning of
English seamen, until they roused in Elizabeth the spirit of
covetousness and retaliation. It was easy then for her incorruptible
integrity (!) to surrender to temptation. A division of what had been
taken from Philip's subjects was forthwith piously made. Elizabeth,
being the chief of the contracting parties, took with her accustomed
grace the queenly share. On one occasion she walked in the parks with
Drake, held a royal banquet on board the notorious _Pelican_, and
knighted him; while he, in return for these little attentions,
lavished on his Queen presents of diamonds, emeralds, etc. The
accounts which have been handed down to us seem, in these days,
amazing in their cold-blooded defiance of honourable dealing. But we
must face the hard facts of the necessity of retaliation against the
revolting deeds of the Inquisition and the determined, intriguing
policy of worming Popery into the hearts of a Protestant nation, and
then we realize that Drake's methods were the "invention" of an
inevitable alternative either to fight this hideous despotism with
more desperate weapons and greater vigour than the languid,
luxury-loving Spaniards had taken the trouble to create or succumb to
their tremendous power of wealth and wickedness. Drake was the chosen
instrument of an inscrutable destiny, and we owe it to him that the
divided England of that day was saved from annihilation. He broke the
power of Spain at sea, and established England as the first naval and
mercantile Power in the world. He was the real founder of generations
of seamen, and his undying fame will inspire generations yet unborn to
maintain the supremacy of the seas.

The callous, brutal attitude of Elizabeth towards a race of men who
had given their lives and souls so freely in every form of danger and
patriotic adventure because they believed it to be a holy duty is one
of the blackest pages of human history. The cruelties of the Spanish
Inquisition and the treatment of sailors in the galleys were only
different in degree, and while there are sound reasons for condemning
the Queen and the ruling classes of that time for conduct that would
not be tolerated in these days, it is unquestionably true that it was
a difficult task to keep under control the spirit of rebellion of that
period, as it is to-day. Doubtless those in authority were, in their
judgment, compelled to rule with a heavy hand in order to keep in
check wilful breaches of discipline.

Attempts to mutiny and acts of treason were incidents in the wonderful
career of Francis Drake which frequently caused him to act with
severity. Doughty, the Spanish spy, who was at one time a personal
friend of Drake's, resolved to betray his commander. Doughty was
caught in the act, tried by a court composed of men serving under
Drake, found guilty, and after dining with the Admiral, chatting
cheerfully as in their friendly days, they drank each other's health
and had some private conversation not recorded; then Doughty was led
to the place of execution and had his head chopped off, Drake
exclaiming as it fell, "Lo, this is the end of traitors!" Then Drake
relieved Fletcher of his duties as chaplain by telling him softly that
he would "preach this day." The ship's company was called together and
he exhorted them to harmony, warning them of the danger of discord.
Then in his breezy phraseology he exclaims, "By the life of God, it
doth even take my wits from me to think of it." The crew, it appears,
was composed of gentlemen, who were obviously putting on airs, and
sailors, who resented their swank as much as did the great captain. So
Drake proceeds to lay the law down vehemently. "Let us show
ourselves," said he, "all to be of one company, and let us not give
occasion to the enemy to rejoice at our decay and overthrow. Show me
the man that would refuse to set his hand to a rope, but I know that
there is not any such here." Then he proceeds to drive home his plan
of discipline with vigour. "And as gentlemen are necessary for
government's sake in the voyage, so I have shipped them to that and to
some further intent." He does not say quite what it is, but they
doubtless understand that it is meant to be a warning lest he should
be compelled to put them through some harsh form of punishment. He
concludes his memorable address with a few candid words, in which he
declares that he knows sailors to be the most envious people in the
world and, in his own words, "unruly without government," yet, says
he, "May I not be without them!" It is quite clear that Drake would
have no class distinction. His little sermon sank deep into the souls
of his crew, so that when he offered the _Marigold_ to those who had
lost heart, to take them back to England, he had not only made them
ashamed of their refractory conduct, but imbued them with a new
spirit, which caused them to vie with each other in professions of
loyalty and eagerness to go on with him and comply with all the
conditions of the enterprise.

The great commander had no room for antics of martyrdom. He gave human
nature first place in his plan of dealing with human affairs. He did
not allow his mind to be disturbed by trifles. He had big jobs to
tackle, and he never doubted that he was the one and only man who
could carry them to a successful issue. He took his instructions from
Elizabeth and her blustering ministers, whom he regarded as just as
likely to serve Philip as the Tudor Queen if it came to a matter of
deciding between Popery and Protestantism. He received their
instructions in a courtly way, but there are striking evidences that
he was ever on the watch for their vacillating pranks, and he always
dashed out of port as soon as he had received the usual hesitating
permission. Once out of reach, he brushed aside imperial instructions
if they stood in the way of his own definite plan of serving the best
interests of his country, and if the course he took did not completely
succeed--which was seldom the case--he believed "the reason was best
known to God."

John Hawkins and Francis Drake had a simple faith in the divine object
they were serving. Hawkins thought it an act of high godliness to
pretend that he had turned Papist, in order that he might revenge and
rescue the remnant of his poor comrades of the San Juan de Ulloa
catastrophe, who were now shut up in Seville yards and made to work in
chains. Sir John hoodwinked Philip by making use of Mr. George
Fitzwilliam, who in turn made use of Rudolfe and Mary Stuart. Mary
believed in the genuineness of the conspiracy to assassinate Elizabeth
and set up the Queen of Scots in her place, to hand over Elizabeth's
ships to Spain, confiscate property, and to kill a number of
anti-Catholic people. The Hawkins counterplot of revenge on Philip and
his guilty confederates was completely successful. The comic audacity
of it is almost beyond belief. The Pope had bestowed his blessing on
the conspiracy, and the Spanish Council of State was enthusiastically
certain of its success. So credulous were they of the great piratical
seaman's conversion, that an agreement was signed pardoning Hawkins
for his acts of piracy in the West Indies and other places; a Spanish
peerage was given him together with L40,000, which was to be used for
equipping the privateer fleet. The money was duly paid in London, and
possibly some of it was used for repairing the British squadron which
Hawkins had pronounced as being composed of the finest ships in the
world for him to hand over to Philip, even though they had been
neglected owing to the Queen's meanness. The plausible way in which
the great seaman put this proposition caught the imagination of the
negotiators. They were captivated by him. He had caused them to
believe that he was a genuine seceder from heresy and from allegiance
to the Queen of England, and was anxious to avow his penitence for the
great sins he had committed against God and the only true faith, and
to make atonement for them in befitting humility. All he asked for was
forgiveness, and in the fullness of magnanimity they were possibly
moved to ask if, in addition to forgiveness, a Spanish peerage, and
L40,000, he would like to commemorate the occasion of his conversion
by a further token of His Spanish Majesty's favour. It is easy to
picture the apparent indifference with which he suggested that he did
not ask for favours, but if he were to ask for anything, it would be
the release from the Inquisition galleys of a few poor sailor
prisoners. The apparently modest request was granted. Hawkins had
risked his life to accomplish this, and now he writes a letter to
Cecil beginning "My very good Lord." I do not give the whole of the
letter. Suffice it to say that he confirms the success of the plot so
far as he is concerned, and in a last paragraph he says, "I have sent
your Lordship the copy of my pardon from the King of Spain, in the
order and manner I have it, with my great titles and honours from the
King, from which God deliver me."

The process by which Hawkins succeeded in obtaining the object he had
in view was the conception of no ordinary man. We talk and write of
his wonderful accomplishments on sea and land, as a skilful, brave
sailor, but he was more than that. He was, in many respects, a genius,
and his courage and resolution were unfailingly magnificent.

I dare say the prank he played on Philip and his advisers would be
regarded as unworthy cunning, and an outrage on the rules of high
honour. Good Protestant Christians disapproved then, as now, the
wickedness of thus gambling with religion to attain any object
whatsoever, and especially of swearing by the Mother of God the
renunciation of the Protestant faith and the adoption of Roman
Catholicism. The Spaniards, who had a hand in this nefarious
proceeding, were quite convinced that, though Hawkins had been a
pirate and a sea robber and murderer, now that he had come over to
their faith the predisposition to his former evil habits would leave
him. These were the high moral grounds on which was based the resolve
to execute Elizabeth and a large number of her subjects, and take
possession of the throne and private property at their will. It was,
of course, the spirit of retaliation for the iniquities of the British
rovers which was condoned by their monarch. In justification of our
part of the game during this period of warfare for religious and
material ascendancy, we stand by the eternal platitude that in that
age we were compelled to act differently from what we should be
justified in doing now. Civilization, for instance, so the argument
goes, was at a low ebb then. I am not so sure that it did not stand
higher than it does now. It is so easy for nations to become
uncivilized, and we, in common with other nations, have a singular
aptitude for it when we think we have a grievance. Be that as it may,
Hawkins, Drake, and the other fine sea rovers had no petty scruples
about relieving Spaniards of their treasure when they came across it
on land or on their ships at sea. Call them by what epithet you like,
they believed in the sanctity of their methods of carrying on war, and
the results for the most part confirmed the accuracy of their
judgment. At any rate, by their bold and resolute deeds they
established British freedom and her supremacy of the seas, and handed
down to us an abiding spirit that has reared the finest seamen and
established our incomparable merchant fleet, the largest and finest in
the world.

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