In the year 1801, Nelson, who had been made vice-admiral of the blue, was sent to the Baltic, as second in command under Sir Hyde Parker, by Earl St. Vincent, now first lord of the Admiralty. The three northern courts had formed a confederacy for making England resign her naval rights. Of these courts Russia was guided by the passions of its emperor, Paul, a man not without fits of generosity and some natural goodness, but subject to the wildest humours of caprice and crazed by the possession of greater power than can ever be safely, or perhaps innocently, possessed by weak humanity. Denmark was French at heart; ready to co-operate in all the views of France, to recognise all her usurpations, and obey all her injunctions. Sweden, under a king whose principles were right and whose feelings were generous, but who had a taint of hereditary insanity, acted in acquiescence with the dictates of two powers whom it feared to offend. The Danish navy, at this time, consisted of twenty-three ships of the line with about thirty-one frigates and smaller vessels, exclusive of guardships. The Swedes had eighteen ships of the line, fourteen frigates and sloops, seventy-four galleys and smaller vessels, besides gun-boats, and this force was in a far better state of equipment than the Danish. The Russians had eighty-two sail of the line and forty frigates. Of these there were forty-seven sail of the line at Cronstadt, Revel, Petersburg, and Archangel; but the Russian fleet was ill-manned, ill-officered, and ill-equipped. Such a combination under the influence of France would soon have become formidable; and never did the British cabinet display more decision than in instantly preparing to crush it.
The British fleet sailed on March 12th and Mr. Vansittart sailed in it; the government still hoping to obtain its ends by negotiation. Mr. Vansittart left the fleet at the Scaw and preceded it in a frigate with a flag of truce. Precious time was lost by this delay which was to be purchased by the dearest blood of Britain and Denmark; according to the Danes themselves, the intelligence that a British fleet was seen off the Sound produced a much more general alarm in Copenhagen than its actual arrival in the roads; for their means of defence were, at that time, in such a state that they could hardly hope to resist, still less to repel, an enemy. On the 21st, Nelson had a long conference with Sir Hyde; and the next day addressed a letter to him worthy of himself and of the occasion. Mr. Vansittart’s report had then been received. It represented the Danish government as in the highest degree hostile, and their state of preparation as exceeding what our cabinet had supposed possible; for Denmark had profited with all activity, by the leisure which had so impoliticly been given her. “The more I have reflected,” said Nelson to his commander, “the more I am confirmed in opinion that not a moment should be lost in attacking the enemy. They will every day and every hour be stronger; we shall never be so good a match for them as we are at this moment. The only consideration is how to get at them with the least risk to our ships.”
Of the two courses open to them, that of proceeding past Cronenburg, and taking the deepest and straightest channel along the middle grounds and attacking the Danish line of floating batteries, or that of attempting the passage of the Belt, Sir Hyde Parker preferred the latter, Nelson and Captain Domett the former, though as Nelson put it, “Let it be by the Sound, by the Belt, or anyhow, only lose not an hour!” when it was finally decided to take the passage of the Sound.
The next day was wasted in despatching a flag of truce to the Governor of Cronenburg Castle, to ask whether he had received orders to fire at the British fleet, as the admiral must consider the first gun to be a declaration of war on the part of Denmark. A soldier-like and becoming answer was returned to this formality. The governor said that the British minister had not been sent away from Copenhagen but had obtained a passport at his own demand. He himself, as a soldier, could not meddle with politics: but he was not at liberty to suffer a fleet—of which the intention was not yet known—to approach the guns of the castle which he had the honour to command, and he requested, if the British admiral should think proper to make any proposals to the King of Denmark, that he might be apprised of it before the fleet approached nearer. During this intercourse a Dane, who came on board the commander’s ship, having occasion to express his business in writing found the pen blunt, and, holding it up, sarcastically said, “If your guns are not better pointed than your pens you will make little impression on Copenhagen!”
Nelson, who was now appointed to lead the van, shifted his flag to the Elephant, Captain Foley—a lighter ship than the St. George, and, therefore, fitter for the expected operations. The two following days were calm. Orders had been given to pass the Sound as soon as the wind would permit; and on the afternoon of the 29th the ships were cleared for action with an alacrity characteristic of British seamen. At daybreak on the 30th it blew a top-sail breeze from north-west. The signal was made and the fleet moved on in order of battle; Nelson’s division in the van, Sir Hyde’s in the centre, and Admiral Graves’ in the rear.
The whole force consisted of fifty-one sail of various descriptions, of which sixteen were of the line. The greater part of the bomb and gun vessels took their stations off Cronenburg Castle, to cover the fleet; while others on the larboard were ready to engage the Swedish shore. The Danes, having improved every moment which ill-timed negotiation and baffling weather gave them, had lined their shore with batteries; and as soon as the Monarch, which was the leading ship, came abreast of them a fire was opened from about a hundred pieces of cannon and mortars. Our light vessels immediately in return opened their fire upon the castle. The enemy’s shot fell near enough to splash the water on board our ships; not relying upon any forbearance of the Swedes they meant to have kept the mid channel, but when they perceived that not a shot was fired from Helsinburg and that no batteries were to be seen on the Swedish shore, they inclined to that side, so as completely to get out of reach of the Danish guns. The uninterrupted blaze which was kept up from them till the fleet had passed served only to exhilarate our sailors and afford them matter for jest, as the shot fell in showers a full cable’s length short of its destined aim.
About mid-day the whole fleet anchored between the island of Huen and Copenhagen. Sir Hyde, with Nelson, Admiral Graves, some of the senior captains, and the commanding officers of the artillery and the troops, then proceeded in a lugger to reconnoitre the enemy’s means of defence; a formidable line of ships, radeaux, pontoons, galleys, fire-ships, and gun-boats, flanked and supported by extensive batteries, and occupying, from one extreme point to the other, an extent of nearly four miles.
A council of war was held in the afternoon. Nelson offered his services for the attack, requiring ten sail of the line and the whole of the smaller craft. Sir Hyde gave him two more line-of-battle ships than he asked for and left everything to his judgment.
The enemy’s force was not the only, nor the greatest, obstacle with which the British fleet had to contend: there was another to be overcome before they could come in contact with it. The channel was little known and extremely intricate; all the buoys had been removed; and the Danes considered this difficulty as almost insuperable, thinking the channel impracticable for so large a fleet. Nelson himself saw the soundings made and the buoys laid down, boating it upon this exhausting service, day and night, till it was effected. When this was done, he thanked God for having enabled him to get through this difficult part of his duty. “It had worn him down,” he said, “and was infinitely more grievous to him than any resistance which he could experience from the enemy.”
On the morning of April 1st the whole fleet removed to an anchorage within two leagues of the town and off the north-west end of the Middle Ground: a shoal lying exactly before the town, at about three-quarters of a mile distance, and extending along its whole sea front. The King’s Channel, where there is deep water, is between this shoal and the town; and here the Danes had arranged their line of defence, as near the shore as possible: nineteen ships and floating batteries, flanked, at the end nearest the town, by the Crown Batteries, which were two artificial islands at the mouth of the harbour—most formidable works; the larger one having, by the Danish account, sixty-six guns; but, as Nelson believed, eighty-eight. The fleet having anchored, Nelson, with Riou in the Amazon, made his last examination of the ground; and about one o’clock, returning to his own ship, threw out the signal to weigh. It was received with a shout throughout the whole division; they weighed with a light and favourable wind. The narrow channel between the island of Saltholm and the Middle Ground had been accurately buoyed; the small craft pointed out the course distinctly; Riou led the way: the whole division coasted along the outer edge of the shoal, doubled its further extremity, and anchored there off Draco Point, just as the darkness closed—the headmost of the enemy’s line not being more than two miles distant. The signal to prepare for action had been made early in the evening; and, as his own anchor dropped, Nelson called out, “I will fight them the moment I have a fair wind.” It had been agreed that Sir Hyde, with the remaining ships, should weigh on the following morning, at the same time as Nelson, to menace the Crown Batteries on his side and the four ships of the line which lay at the entrance of the arsenal, and to cover our own disabled ships as they came out of action.
The Danes, meantime, had not been idle: no sooner did the guns of Cronenburg make it known to the whole city that all negotiation was at an end, that the British fleet was passing the Sound, and that the dispute between the two crowns must now be decided by arms, than a spirit displayed itself most honourable to the Danish character. All ranks offered themselves to the service of their country; the university furnished a corps of twelve hundred youths, the flower of Denmark. It was one of those emergencies in which little drilling or discipline is necessary to render courage available: they had nothing to learn but how to manage the guns, and were employed day and night in practising them. When the movements of Nelson’s squadron were perceived, it was known when and where the attack was to be expected, and the line of defence was manned indiscriminately by soldiers, sailors, and citizens.
This was an awful night for Copenhagen—far more so than for the British fleet, where the men were accustomed to battle and victory, and had none of those objects before their eyes which render death terrible. Nelson sat down to table with a large party of his officers; he was, as he was ever wont to be when on the eve of action, in high spirits, and drank to a leading wind and to the success of the morrow. After supper they returned to their respective ships, except Riou, who remained to arrange the order of battle with Nelson and Foley, and to draw up instructions: Hardy, meantime, went in a small boat to examine the channel between them and the enemy, approaching so near, that he sounded round their leading ship with a pole, lest the noise of throwing the lead should discover him. The incessant fatigue of body as well as mind which Nelson had undergone during the last three days had so exhausted him that he was earnestly urged to go to his cot; and his old servant, Allen, using that kind of authority which long and affectionate services entitled and enabled him to assume on such occasions, insisted upon his complying. The cot was placed on the floor and he continued to dictate from it. About eleven Hardy returned and reported the practicability of the channel and the depth of water up to the enemy’s line. About one the orders were completed; and half a dozen clerks in the foremost cabin proceeded to transcribe them, Nelson frequently calling out to them from his cot to hasten their work, for the wind was becoming fair. Instead of attempting to get a few hours of sleep he was constantly receiving reports on this important point. At daybreak it was announced as becoming perfectly fair. The clerks finished their work about six. Nelson, who was already up, breakfasted, and made signal for all captains.
Between eight and nine the pilots and masters were ordered on board the admiral’s ship. The pilots were mostly men who had been mates in Baltic traders, and their hesitation about the bearing of the east end of the shoal and the exact line of deep water gave ominous warning of how little their knowledge was to be trusted. The signal for action had been made, the wind was fair—not a moment to be lost. Nelson urged them to be steady, to be resolute, and to decide; but they wanted the only ground for steadiness and decision in such cases, and Nelson had reason for regret that he had not trusted to Hardy’s single report.
Captain Murray, in the Edgar, led the way; the Agamemnon was next in order; but, on the first attempt to leave her anchorage she could not weather the edge of the shoal, and Nelson had the grief to see his old ship, in which he had performed so many years’ gallant services, immovably aground at a moment when her help was so greatly required. Signal was then made for the Polyphemus; and this change in the order of sailing was executed with the utmost promptitude; yet so much delay had thus been unavoidably occasioned, that the Edgar was for some time unsupported, and the Polyphemus, whose place should have been at the end of the enemy’s line where their strength was the greatest, could get no further than the beginning, owing to the difficulty of the channel; there she occupied indeed an efficient station, but one where her presence was less required. The Isis followed, with better fortune, and took her own berth. The Bellona, Sir T. Thompson, kept too close on the starboard shoal, and grounded abreast of the outer ship of the enemy; this was the more vexatious, inasmuch as the wind was fair, the room ample, and three ships had led the way. The Russell, following the Bellona, grounded in like manner; both were within reach of shot, but their absence from their intended stations was severely felt. Each ship had been ordered to pass her leader on the starboard side, because the water was supposed to shoal on the larboard shore. Nelson, who came next after these two ships, thought they had kept too far on the starboard direction, and made signal for them to close with the enemy, not knowing that they were aground; but when he perceived that they did not obey the signal, he ordered the Elephant’s helm to starboard, and went within these ships, thus quitting the appointed order of sailing and guiding those which were to follow. The greater part of the fleet were probably, by this act of promptitude on his part, saved from going on shore. Each ship, as she arrived nearly opposite to her appointed station, let her anchor go by the stern and presented her broadside to the Danes. The distance between each was about half a cable. The action was fought at the distance of nearly a cable’s length from the enemy.
At five minutes after ten the action began. The first half of our fleet was engaged in about half an hour; and by half-past eleven the battle became general. The plan of the attack had been complete, but seldom has any plan been more disconcerted by untoward accidents. Of twelve ships of the line, one was entirely useless, and two others in a situation where they could not render half the service which was required of them. Of the squadron of gun-brigs only one could get into action: the rest were prevented, by baffling currents, from weathering the eastern end of the shoal, and only two of the bomb-vessels could reach their station on the Middle Ground, and open their mortars on the arsenal, firing over both fleets.
Nelson’s agitation had been extreme when he saw himself, before the action began, deprived of a fourth part of his ships of the line; but no sooner was he in battle, where his squadron was received with the fire of more than a thousand guns, than, as if that artillery, like music, had driven away all care and painful thoughts, his countenance brightened; and, as a bystander describes him, his conversation became joyous, animated, elevated, and delightful. The commander-in-chief, meantime, near enough to the scene of action to know the unfavourable accidents which had so materially weakened Nelson, and yet too distant to know the real state of the contending parties, suffered the most dreadful anxiety. To get to his assistance was impossible; both wind and current were against him. Fear for the event, in such circumstances, would naturally preponderate in the bravest mind; and at one o’clock, perceiving that after three hours’ endurance the enemy’s fire was unslackened, he began to despair of success. “I will make the signal of recall,” said he to his captain, “for Nelson’s sake. If he is in a condition to continue the action successfully he will disregard it; if he is not, it will be an excuse for his retreat, and no blame can be imputed to him.” Under a mistaken judgment, therefore, but with this disinterested and generous feeling he made the signal for retreat.
Nelson was at this time, in all the excitement of action, pacing the quarter-deck. A shot through the main mast knocked the splinters about; and he observed to one of his officers with a smile, “It is warm work, and this day may be the last to any of us at a moment;” and then stopping short at the gangway, added with emotion—”But mark you! I would not be elsewhere for thousands.” About this time the signal lieutenant called out, that No. 39 (the signal for discontinuing the action) was thrown out by the commander-in-chief. He continued to walk the deck and appeared to take no notice of it. The signal officer met him at the next turn, and asked him if he should repeat it, “No,” he replied, “acknowledge it.” Presently he called after him to know if the signal for close action was still hoisted; and being answered in the affirmative, said, “Mind you keep it so.” He now paced the deck, moving the stump of his lost arm in a manner which always indicated great emotion. “Do you know,” said he to Mr. Ferguson, “what is shown on board the commander-in-chief? No. 39!” Mr. Ferguson asked what that meant,—”Why, to leave off action!” Then, shrugging up his shoulders, he repeated the words—”Leave off action? Now, hang me if I do! You know, Foley,” turning to the captain, “I have only one eye—I have a right to be blind sometimes;” and then, putting the glass to his blind eye, in that mood of mind which sports with bitterness, he exclaimed, “I really do not see the signal! Keep mine for closer battle flying! That’s the way I answer such signals! Nail mine to the mast!” Admiral Graves, who was so situated that he could not discern what was done on board the Elephant, disobeyed Sir Hyde’s signal in like manner: whether by fortunate mistake, or by a like brave intention, has not been made known. The other ships of the line, looking only to Nelson, continued the action. The signal, however, saved Riou’s little squadron but did not save its heroic leader. This squadron, which was nearest the commander-in-chief, obeyed, and hauled off. “What will Nelson think of us!” was Riou’s mournful exclamation when he unwillingly drew off. He had been wounded in the head by a splinter, and was sitting on a gun encouraging his men, when, just as the Amazon showed her stern to the Trekroner battery, his clerk was killed by his side, and another shot swept away several marines who were hauling in the main-brace. “Come, then, my boys!” cried Riou, “let us die all together!” The words had scarcely been uttered before a raking shot cut him in two. Except it had been Nelson himself, the British navy could not have suffered a severer loss.
The action continued along the line with unabated vigour on our side and with the most determined resolution on the part of the Danes. They fought to great advantage because most of the vessels in their line of defence were without masts: the few which had any standing had their top-masts struck, and the hulls could only be seen at intervals.
The Bellona lost seventy-five men; the Iris, one hundred and ten; the Monarch, two hundred and ten. She was, more than any other line-of-battle ship, exposed to the great battery, and supporting, at the same time, the united fire of the Holstein and the Zealand, her loss this day exceeded that of any single ship during the whole war. Amid the tremendous carnage in this vessel some of the men displayed a singular instance of coolness: the pork and peas happened to be in the kettle; a shot knocked its contents about; they picked up the pieces, and ate and fought at the same time.
The prince-royal had taken his station upon one of the batteries, from whence he beheld the action and issued his orders. Denmark had never been engaged in so arduous a contest, and never did the Danes more nobly display their national courage. A youth of seventeen, by name Villemoes, particularly distinguished himself on this memorable day. He had volunteered to take the command of a floating battery, which was a raft consisting merely of a number of beams nailed together, with a flooring to support the guns: it was square, with a breastwork full of port-holes, and without masts—carrying twenty-four guns and one hundred and twenty men. With this he got under the stern of the Elephant, below the reach of the stern-chasers; and, under a heavy fire of small arms from the marines, fought his raft till the truce was announced, with such skill, as well as courage, as to excite Nelson’s warmest admiration.
Between one and two the fire of the Danes slackened; about two it ceased from the greater part of their line, and some of their lighter ships were adrift. It was, however, difficult to take possession of those which struck, because the batteries on Amak Island protected them, and because an irregular fire was kept up from the ships themselves as the boats approached. This arose from the nature of the action; the crew were continually reinforced from the shore, and fresh men coming on board, did not inquire whether the flag had been struck, or, perhaps, did not heed it; many, or most of them, never having been engaged in war before.
By half-past two the action had ceased along that part of the line which was astern of the Elephant, but not with the ships ahead and the Crown Batteries. Nelson, seeing the manner in which his boats were fired upon when they went to take possession of the prizes, became angry, and said he must either send on shore to have this irregular proceeding stopped, or send a fire-ship and burn them. Half the shot from the Trekroner and from the batteries at Amak at this time struck the surrendered ships, four of which had got close together; and the fire of the English in return was equally, or even more, destructive to these poor devoted Danes. Nelson, who was as humane as he was brave, was shocked at this massacre—for such he called it—and, with a presence of mind peculiar to himself, and never more signally displayed than now, he retired into the stern galley, and wrote thus to the crown-prince: “Vice-Admiral Lord Nelson has been commanded to spare Denmark when she no longer resists. The line of defence which covered her shores has struck to the British flag; but if the firing is continued on the part of Denmark he must set on fire all the prizes that he has taken, without having the power of saving the men who have so nobly defended them. The brave Danes are the brothers, and should never be the enemies, of the English.” A wafer was given him, but he ordered a candle to be brought from the cockpit and sealed the letter with wax, affixing a larger seal than he ordinarily used. “This,” said he, “is no time to appear hurried and informal.” Captain Sir Frederick Thesiger, who acted as his aide-de-camp, carried this letter with a flag of truce. Meantime the fire of the ships ahead and the approach of the Ramilies and Defence from Sir Hyde’s division, which had now worked near enough to alarm the enemy, though not to injure them, silenced the remainder of the Danish line to the eastward of the Trekroner. That battery, however, continued its fire.
During Thesiger’s absence, Nelson sent for Freemantle, from the Ganges, and consulted with him and Foley whether it was advisable to advance with those ships which had sustained least damage, against the yet uninjured part of the Danish line. They were decidedly of opinion that the best thing which could be done was, while the wind continued fair to remove the fleet out of the intricate channel, from which it had to retreat. In somewhat more than half an hour after Thesiger had been despatched, the Danish adjutant-general, Lindholm, came bearing a flag of truce; upon which the Trekroner ceased to fire and the action closed after four hours’ continuance. He brought an inquiry from the prince, What was the object of Nelson’s note? The British admiral wrote in reply: “Lord Nelson’s object in sending the flag of truce was humanity; he therefore consents that hostilities shall cease and that the wounded Danes may be taken on shore. And Lord Nelson will take his prisoners out of the vessels, and burn or carry off his prizes as he shall think fit. Lord Nelson, with humble duty to his royal highness the prince, will consider this the greatest victory he has ever gained if it may be the cause of a happy reconciliation and union between his own most gracious sovereign and His Majesty the King of Denmark.”—Sir Frederick Thesiger was despatched a second time with the reply; and the Danish adjutant-general was referred to the commander-in-chief for a conference upon this overture. Lindholm, assenting to this, proceeded to the London, which was riding at anchor full four miles off; and Nelson, losing not one of the critical moments which he had thus gained, made signal for his leading ships to weigh in succession; they had the shoal to clear, they were much crippled, and their course was immediately under the guns of the Trekroner.
The Monarch led the way. This ship had received six-and-twenty shot between wind and water. She had not a shroud standing; there was a double-headed shot in the heart of her fore mast and the slightest wind would have sent every mast over her side. The imminent danger from which Nelson had extricated himself soon became apparent; the Monarch touched immediately upon a shoal, over which she was pushed by the Ganges taking her amid-ships; the Glatton went clear; but the other two, the Defiance and the Elephant, grounded about a mile from the Trekroner, and there remained fixed for many hours in spite of all the exertions of their wearied crews. The Désirée frigate also, at the other end of the line, having gone toward the close of the action to assist the Bellona, became fast on the same shoal. Nelson left the Elephant soon after she took the ground to follow Lindholm. The heat of action was over; and that kind of feeling, which the surrounding scene of havoc was so well fitted to produce, pressed heavily upon his exhausted spirits. The sky had suddenly become overcast; white flags were waving from the mast-heads of so many shattered ships; the slaughter had ceased, but the grief was to come; for the account of the dead was not yet made up, and no man could tell for what friends he would have to mourn. There was another reflection also, which mingled with these melancholy thoughts and predisposed him to receive them. He was not here master of his own movements as at Egypt; he had won the day by disobeying his orders; and in so far as he had been successful, had convicted the commander-in-chief of an error in judgment. “Well,” said he, as he left the Elephant, “I have fought contrary to orders and I shall perhaps be hanged! Never mind, let them!”
This was the language of a man, who, while he is giving utterance to an uneasy thought, clothes it half in jest because he half repents that it has been disclosed. His services had been too eminent on that day, his judgment too conspicuous, his success too signal, for any commander, however jealous of his own authority or envious of another’s merits, to express anything but satisfaction and gratitude, which Sir Hyde heartily felt and sincerely expressed. It was speedily agreed that there should be a suspension of hostilities for four-and-twenty hours; that all the prizes should be surrendered and the wounded Danes carried on shore. Seventeen sail of the Danes were taken, burnt, or sunk in this battle.
The boats of Sir Hyde’s division were actively employed all night in bringing out the prizes and in getting afloat the ships which were on shore. At daybreak, Nelson, who had slept in his own ship, the St. George, rowed to the Elephant, and his delight at finding her afloat seemed to give him new life. There he took a hasty breakfast, praising the men for their exertions, and then pushed off to the prizes which had not yet been removed. The English spent the day in refitting their own ships, securing the prizes, and distributing the prisoners; the Danes, in carrying on shore and disposing of the wounded and the dead. It had been a murderous action. Our loss, in killed and wounded, was nine hundred and fifty-three. The loss of the Danes, including prisoners, amounted to about six thousand. The negotiations, meantime, went on; and it was agreed that Nelson should have an interview with the prince the following day. The preliminaries of the negotiation were adjusted at this interview. During the repast which followed, Nelson, with all the sincerity of his character, bore willing testimony to the valour of his foes. He told the prince that he had been in a hundred and five engagements but that this was the most tremendous of all. “The French,” he said, “fought bravely, but they could not have stood for one hour the fight which the Danes had supported for four.” He requested that Villemoes might be introduced to him; and, shaking hands with the youth, told the prince that he ought to be made an admiral. The prince replied: “If, my lord, I am to make all my brave officers admirals, I should have no captains or lieutenants in my service.”
For the battle of Copenhagen, fought on April 2nd, 1801, Nelson was raised to the rank of viscount; an inadequate mark of reward for services so splendid and of such paramount importance to the dearest interests of England. There was, however, some prudence in dealing out honours to him step by step; had he lived long enough he would have fought his way up to a dukedom.
He had not been many weeks on shore before he was called upon to undertake a service for which no Nelson was required. Bonaparte, who was now first consul and in reality sole ruler of France, was making preparations upon a great scale for invading England; but his schemes in the Baltic had been baffled; fleets could not be created as they were wanted; and his armies, therefore, were to come over in gun-boats and such small craft as could be rapidly built or collected for the occasion. From the former governments of France such threats have only been matter of insult or policy: in Bonaparte they were sincere; for this adventurer, intoxicated with success, already began to imagine that all things were to be submitted to his fortune. We had not at that time proved the superiority of our soldiers over the French, and the unreflecting multitude were not to be persuaded that an invasion could only be effected by numerous and powerful fleets. A general alarm was excited, and, in condescension to this unworthy feeling, Nelson was appointed to a command extending from Orfordness to Beachy Head, on both shores—a sort of service, he said, for which he felt no other ability than what might be found in his zeal. This zeal he continued to display without abatement until the Peace of Amiens gave him leisure to return home again.