14th February, 1797, battle Cape St. Vicent.

[Hethwill]

"That's right Sir John, and, by God, we'll give them a damn good licking!"
Memoirs of Admiral the Right Hon[orabl]e the Earl of St. Vincent link

 

That's how enthusiastic the fleet under Jarvis was on that dawn of the 14th February upon receiving report after report after report of sails being counted bearing on the British fleet position.

From eight, to twenty, to twenty five, then two more, and finally it was enough. The time had come to engage.

A lot of details make up a battle, and Nelson's exploits are nonetheless just a part of it and shouldn't take the spotlight.

The British line was nicely arrayed, Cordoba's wasn't. They (the Spanish) weren't expecting a fleet but merely the initial squadron, barely a third of their strength.

Furthermore it was split, by design of the sea and wind, in two groups. And still, despite the glorified outcome, was a close run contest, but details and tactical decisions of officers on each of the individual ships eventually made or break the battle.

For example, the Colossus got put out of battle for two hours after one broadside from the Principe de Asturias which wrecked her tops during the column tack. For two hours the crew repaired however they could the rigging, basically changing tops to one mast below. When she was done it was just to serve as a spectator.

Or the HMS Culloden, a 74 gun, that with such lively and accurate fire into the Principe de Asturias, 112(?), put her off and turning to less exposed position.

All in all the ships couldn't simply crash into each other. Cordoba decision that it was too late to wear across the fore of the British line surely represents how dangerous ships crashing into each other could be and seeing no time nor space ( they would wear right into the wind on the back ) they decide to continue course, which eventually put them in a irrecoverable position as the British line tacked.

Still the Spanish under Moreno did make the right decision - break the enemy line at the tack point. In itself a grand feat to figure out where that exact point was.

Those little details, if didn't happen could, or would balance the outcome to one side or the other.

During the engagement frigates and sloops-of-war did fire into a ship of the line, the Oriente, and were returned the favour with the Spanish commander dubbing them "impertinent small fry". Nonetheless is just a mere distraction. No big resulting damage, just ragged high shot from the spanish batteries. But it shows how aggressive the British felt that day.

Of course the battle was settled and heroic deeds happened once the main Spanish division was caught up.

Interesting to note that the wind kept light during the entire engagement.

In Spain, Cordoba and a number of his senior officers were arrested and court-martial-ed. The commander of the fleet was stripped of his rank, forbidden to appear at court, and exiled from Madrid and its vicinity. In sharp contrast with its harsh condemnation of the aristocratic officers, the court made a very unusual statement of praise for an enlisted man of humble origins, the marine grenadier Martin Alvarez. 

It is a story to pursue for those interested. One of the most interesting big fleet actions of the Revolutionary/Napoleonic wars.

 

 

Of course fellows, add all you want about the battle itself.

Happy 14th February.

 

[DeRuyter]

Had the battle been decided differently Nelson's move to engage when he did may well have resulted in a court martial......

[Sento de Benimaclet]

This is my flag. (Esta es mi bandera). Ferrer Dalmau, great spanish painter.

[Hethwill]

14 hours ago, DeRuyter said:

Had the battle been decided differently Nelson's move to engage when he did may well have resulted in a court martial......

Yes, that's entirely the point

Of course now we look back to a certainty that it was "the right choice at the right moment" but ... what if...

 

[Norfolk nChance]

Nice write up @Hethwill top man, and the link.

 

This is one of my favourite battles to analyse. Have added some extra links below.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Cape_St_Vincent_(1797)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HMS_Captain_(1787)

http://chasingnelson.blogspot.com/2013/09/nelsons-patent-bridge-for-boarding.html

http://www.admiralnelson.info/CapeStVincent4.htm

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v-2bNxdxDCM

Watch this one… its long but worth it

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9s8m3c1hwm0

I use this battle and Nelson’s action in a small story. The mention of his Old Agamemnon’s John Sykes, John Thomson and Francis Cook involvement. The cannon ball strike at the HMS Captain nearly throwing Nelson overboard if it wasn’t for Miller… all really great incidents

 

Nelson’s move… and understanding ossification

In Nelson’s Wake… this story and Nelson’s own PR machine gives the view as to why he was head and shoulders above his peers. This I believe is not the case and his Death over shadows many other great Captains.

I believe even if we’d have lost the battle Nelson would not have being Court Materialled but would have faced one.

Ossification with SoLs

By the 18^th Century the fleets becoming so large it was hard to have them bring to bear in a long single line squarely alongside its enemy. The French, reluctant to engage also, they preferring longer range rigging attacks. Stagnation sets in with reluctancy to engage.

This made the Admiralty’s “Permeant Fighting Instruction” useless with ossification. The Admiralty knew this, so too did the French. The 74-Gun Fast French cruiser coming into existence.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lord_Howe%27s_action,_or_the_Glorious_First_of_June

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glorious_First_of_June

Look at Lord Howe and what he did in ’94. With Jarvis and others including Nelson they the Royal Navy were struggling to make the First Rates actually effective platforms. They had to change the rules of engagement.

This is what Nelson did, and changed the force multiplier to the British even though out numbered.

https://forum.game-labs.net/topic/26916-book-fleet-tactics-and-naval-operations-3rd-edition/

 

The Patent Bridge Run

Try without hindsight what went through Nelsons mind. The San Nicolas was badly damaged from HMS Excellent. Nelson could see this, and realised it would strike her colours. Storming the quarter deck from the Spanish Captain’s cabin led to a quick surrender.

Then the collision with the San Jose, the San Nicolas caused the yards and rigging to interwind. The much larger San Jose could re-take the surrendered San Nicolas… This I believe was the problem going through Nelson’s mind. He had no choice…

San Nicolas crew would remain surrendered below decks, he sent a force through the San Jose stern and he charged the San Jose Quarter deck. The Captain, not expecting the sudden rush surrendered immediately.

Nelson’s thinking, if the San Jose Captain realises the Nicolas was taken and with such a small force… He would have prepared a defence or counter attack boarding party himself. Instead the Spanish Captain was focused on the rigging and tangled yards with the other ship…

My thoughts anyway…

 

Norfolk

 

[Norfolk nChance]

A little help if possible.

This is part of my Naval Action Story. In the tavern section PuLp Fiction, is the title.

A fictional account of the battle Cape St. Vicent told from the perspective of Norfolk.

It’s not edited yet, but would appreciate any critiques good or bad. Whether the story line or inaccuracies in the tale...

 

 

Norfolk

 

 

 

The Patent Bridge Race

Terrified, I don’t mind admitting it. I was terrified that February morning. It started on Valentine’s Day back in ’97. We, that’s me and my close friend; who was my Senior Officer, the Commodore, sat off the coast of Portugal in thick fog. Our ship, or the Commodore’s was a 74-Gun third rate called HMS Captain. With the wind light, the breeze headed North-East on a calm sea.

A few days earlier, we took a 40-Gun frigate out to have a scout around. The fog was horrendous, but as luck would have it, we sailed into a Spanish fleet as it was heading towards Cadiz. Believe it or not we sailed right through the fleet completely unseen.

We raced back to the squadron of fifteen British ships just off Spain, and passed the information onto Admiral Sir John Jervis in his HMS Victory. He gave praise, then moaned at us we couldn’t provide the size of this enemy we encountered. We couldn’t see them for the fog...! I tried to explain.

Early morning on the 14th, I could hear the faint signal guns of the Spanish in the dense pea Souper as they approached. Dawn broke with Jervis in a position to engage. We were towards the back of the line and couldn’t see a damn thing. The Admiral’s idea was for us to sail into the wind South and cut the Spanish fleet in two. The line would then turn North-North-West to chase down and intercept the bulk of the enemy ships.

From the reports I read later, the conversation between Jervis and Capt. Calder on her Quarter Deck went something like this, as Jervis discovered we were outnumbered nearly two to one...

"There are eight sail of the line, Sir John"

"Very well, sir"

"There are twenty sail of the line, Sir John"

"Very well, sir"

"There are twenty-five sail of the line, Sir John"

"Very well, sir"

"There are twenty-seven sail of the line, Sir John"

"Enough, sir, no more of that; the die is cast, and if there are fifty sail, I will go through them"

That was Admiral Jarvis to a tee.

By mid-day we’d formed a fish hook with HMS Culloden in the lead, on the reverse course chasing the rear of the Spanish heading North. We in HMS Captain near the back heading South still in line, were actually much closer to the larger Spanish group. When Jervis hoisted a signal that read...

Take suitable stations for mutual support and engage the enemy as coming up in succession

My friend wasn’t happy, no not at all. If we followed the ‘Permanent Fighting Instructions’ order laid down by the Admiralty there was a good chance the Spanish would get away. This before the main fleet had chance to catch them. Jervis’s signal brought a beaming smile to his face as he turned to look at me with that one good pale blue eye.

“Norfolk, order Capt. Miller to wear the ship and take HMS Captain out of the line, Sir”

“Sir... excuse me Sir?”

“You saw Old Jervy’s signal man, double time Mr. Norfolk if you please, Sir...”

Obviously, my friend’s interpretation of the signal wasn’t quite mine. I knew what he was thinking though. Jervis just gave him a free hand, and by God he’ll take it.

Capt. Miller rounded the ship with some style. We then, with the wind, passed between HMS Diadem and HMS Excellent. Miller proceeded to run across the bows of the main Spanish fleet. We could see the names of some these massive line ships in the group clearly visible now. All three of us, me Miller and the Commodore showed just a steely nerve of determination. No fear must be seen by the men at all cost, as the World’s largest ship afloat loomed into view. The 130-Gun first-rate Santisima Trinidad under the command of the famous Spanish fleet Admiral Josef de Cordoba y Ramos. Also, in attendance the San Josef 114-Gun, Salvador del Mundo 112-Gun, the San Nicolas 84-Gun and a few more...

I remember looking at my Hunter-Case pocket watch, it was 2pm. Then all hell broke loose. Horatio and I stood on the Captains Quarter Deck, pacing back and forth with measured calm when we started to receive incoming. My guess, was at least five of the line ships including the Santi fired on us. The smoke, and splinters filled the air like shards of glass from a smashed window. The topmast went, crashing into the deck then over board. The crew jumped with axes cutting it away...

With some luck, the Culloden had stretched so far ahead, she came in to cover us. Exchanging with the Santisima to our relief. I immediately ordered splicing and repairing to the ship’s running rigging in what I knew would be a short rest bite. Nelson was trying to take in the battle field through the dense smog and deafening raw of the gun batteries coming from all sides. He stands up, pointing shouting...

“Norfolk, its Bertie look there, it’s the Excellent by God...”

We watched as our old friend Collingwood in HMS Excellent, a 74-Gun third-rate cut into the Spanish line or uneven group. The ship she fell upon was one of the Santi’s main entourage, the Salvador del Mundo 112-Gun. We watched with pride as the Excellent fired heavily at her, time and again with rapid speed. She struck her colours, but Bertie wasn’t done. He just sailed on leaving the devastated ship to one of his allies to take possession.

The Captain’s manoeuvre, cutting across the larger half of the Spanish, had caused a chaotic effect. From a line, they the Spanish now became a tangled group, had tacked individually to move out of the way of the British warship and each other. This slowing the main group down considerably.

Just in front of me, two three yards away a cannonball struck the deck of the Captain. I was blown off my feet backwards and to the right. My heart sank in horror as I came too from the concussion. My old friend was on my left, and thought the worst. Frantically I stood up deafened, shouting his name, searching for him...

As the smoke cleared on the wrecked deck, propped up against the starboard side railing lay Capt. Miller and, in his arms Nelson, blood covered his abdomen. I yelled at him...

“Get below decks and see the Surgeon now. I’ve got this...GO... go man...!”

He rolls off Capt. Miller onto all fours and slowly stands up. Splinters imbedded throughout his over coat. His hand runs through the grey thinning hair and then dusts himself down...

“My dear friend, I’ve had much worse done to me than this... come on let’s get going...”

We reviewed together the heavy damage the Captain had taken. The rigging and masts, the crew following my earlier orders to repair. The Wheel was half blown away, that included the Helmsman who laid dead some ten feet off from his post.

The Excellent had moved on, and for the last ten minutes while we were catching cannonballs, she was delivering broadside after broadside into the San Isidro a 74-Gun. She too, surrendered. We both watched as Collingwood was able to put Excellent between the Captain and the San Nicolas shielding us once more with some brilliant seamanship. He poured a couple of broadsides into the San Nicolas at such a close range. The iron accelerated to 1,000miles per hour delivers a force momentum of plus 20tons for each broadside.

This devasting onslaught at such a close range saw many of the iron balls pass straight through the San Nicolas, over penetrating and into the San Josef 114-Gun on her other side. The San Nicolas was literally pushed sideways and into the oncoming path of the larger first-rated San Josef. The collision caused chaos as their riggings became entangled and with smoke building confusion reigned. The Excellent continued on towards the Santisima Trinidad exposing the shattered mess of the San Nicolas to the Captain once again.

Horatio’s eye lit up and called me and Miller over to him, waving quickly to hurry...

“I’ve got an idea, but we need to be quick. The San Nic is dead in the water, she’ll strike with the minimum of effort. Miller, we’ve no wheel and our rigging is a mess... So, I want you to just ram into the San Nicolas...

... Norfolk, you and me. Also get John Sykes, Thomson and Francis Cook. Tell them to tool up...”

Capt. Miller did has instructed and the battle scared HMS Captain started on a collision course with the entangled and battered 84-Gun Spanish warship. In a tight line with me leading, and Nelson behind followed by the other three seamen, we crouched low on the bow front as the ship headed towards her target.

As we approached, I could see the extensive damage and dead crew scattered across the San Nicolas. The crew of the San Josef in a panic trying to unravel the locked yards and entangled rigging. The panic justified with the approaching HMS Victory, Goliath, Britannia and more ships bearing down. The San Josef needed to move or she was a sitting duck.

The Captain’s bow hit the starboard rear side of the San Nicolas with a thud. It wasn’t the best insertion with windows to the cabin ahead rather than the quarter deck I’d hoped for. I leaped onto the Captain’s cathead (a sturdy beam used to support the anchor). With the handle of my flintlock I smashed in the glass and climbed into the Spanish cabin.

I fell ass over tit, sliding along the wooden floor to stop in a heap in the middle of the room. Nelson and the gang followed landing with just a bit more style. John Thomson, the burly Yorkshireman looked around in awe at the fabulous ornate cabin with its rich furnishings...

“By-eek, it’s the hello kittying Captain’s Cabin Sir...”

He was right, but time was against us. I cocked both my pistols, Nelson did the same. The other three all carried axes. Both me and Horatio stood either side of the cabin door. The plan was for Sykes to kick it open and outward. I would go first, the Commodore second, kill anything that moves and let the boys mop up.

Sykes kicked the light wooden door hard, it flew outward off its hinges. I burst through onto the starboard side both pistols pointed out level. Nelson the same pushed to the port side this allowing access for the gang. The surviving crew weren’t expecting us, looked shocked and wide eyed.

My right pistol was focused on a well-dressed man in an expensive black coat with beautiful deep rich red lining. He was half turned, side on to me hiding his right hand. He gave me smile, and quickly spun round. I pulled the trigger, the flint hitting the flash pan, igniting the powders turning it into an expanding gas. The explosion of noise and smoke filled the local area in an instant, as the lead ball was accelerated out of the barrel.

The ball hit the man in the middle of the forehead, the back of his head exploded outward spraying pink and grey mass across the deck. The body, frozen in time collapsed into a heap as the pistol clattered across the deck from his open right hand. I learned later, he was Brigadier Thomas Geraldino, the ship’s Captain. I would send his widow a gold purse, some flowers and a letter sympathizing at her loss.

A second boarding party from the Captain landed on the poop deck and that was it, the remaining officers surrendered. It was a race against time, we could lose the element of surprise thought Nelson. He ordered the San Nicolas crew below decks. Yelled at Miller, on the Captain to send over urgent reinforcements. The HMS Prince George, a 90-Gun second-rate was now nearing the entangled San Josef. The Spanish officers screaming at the crew to hurry up before more British line ships arrived.

I was still stood with left arm raised holding out the other loaded pistol, in shock. It’s a funny feeling but amid all this swirling chaos I couldn’t hear a sound. Just staring at the corpse and that elegant three-quarter length black coat. Then he yelled at me...

“Move your ass Norfolk, I’ll bet my one good eye against your trollop of a wife I’ll be on the San Josef before YOU, Sykes, Tom-o or Cookie...” with sword in hand, blood smeared across his middle he leapt onto the port rail of the San Nicolas.

I raced after him; drawing my sword, yelling breaking out of my mood, with the other three in hot pursuit. He hit the San Josef Quarter Deck first, me a close second. The rest at a more measured pace. The San Josef entire crew were in a total shock, completely taken by surprise, frozen to the spot. They all had been focused on the sails not looking at the decks, and following the unfolding action. The Captain, Pedro Pineda on Nelson’s landing, immediately leaned over the Quarter Deck rail and cried out Surrender. Flag Captain Pineda presented Nelson with his sword as an act of official defeat. He informed us the Fleet Admiral was dying below decks, a Commodore Francis Javier Winthuysen. It was all over.

We had just taken two ships in an unbelievable manner. I leaned against the San Josef’s Starboard rail, my legs suddenly feeling hollow, unable to support my weight. My left hand was slightly vibrating, like a shiver, when really cold on a winter’s morn. Then it seemed to envelope me, I was terrified so scared, my nerve was shot to pieces. I wanted burst into tears at the horror, collapse to the floor like a child.

 As always, he was never more than three feet away from me. I, thick set and six feet in height was a complete contrast to Horatio’s 5ft 4ins and of slight build. We made for a comedic double act was it not for his presence made him seem like a giant at times. With my head bowed, sullenly I looked across at him. He stood straight, like a rock. The face was blank with that bland pearl complexion and tight thin lips, giving nothing away. I couldn’t tell if he was happy, delighted, bored, petrified, angry or in total shock. On the surface, on the outside nothing showed. The one pale blue eye looked at me and he spoke just to me, only I could hear him in that a firm tone of his…

“Well done today my friend, well done. I understand Norfolk, and I know…” with that he started to walk the Quarter Deck in a measured pace, leaving me behind leaning on the rail. I clenched my left fist so tight the knuckles whitened, forcing the shaking to stop. Then I pushed it down, I pushed it all down deep inside, everything. Standing now straight I tided my coat, brushed away the black hair from my eyes. And with a cold blank expression I followed him at a calm measured pace, delegating orders this way and that to the crews as I passed them by.

Horatio and I remained on the San Josef, allowing Capt. Miller his broken ship back. We, him and Collingwood would look back on this day in absolute bewilderment how we weren’t killed. The press went wild at the story with the quote going down in history known as Nelson’s Patent Bridge Race...

Move your ass Norfolk... Nelson wins the Patent Bridge Race... Headlines ran across the British Press to my slight embarrassment.

 

Captain Francis Norfolk’s personal diary on the events surrounding the Battle of Cape St. Vincent February 14th 1797.

 

Edited March 11, 2019 by Norfolk nChance