Late Night Thoughts on Collingwood and Saumarez

A few months ago the National Lottery published a list of "unsung heroes" as part of their 15th anniversary promotional campaign. While a financial friend calls lotteries "a tax on the stupid," neither can one entirely fault a list that has Baldrick in 6th place.

For some reason it brought to mind poor Collingwood - faithful, effective, and doomed to obscurity because of his fateful proximity to Nelson.

As every schoolchild knows, Collingwood was one of the leading naval men of his day. He was in the thick of things at the Battle of Cape St. Vincent, and first into action at Trafalgar. "What would Nelson give to be here?" he grinned, as his Royal Sovereign, riding on fresh copper, raced ahead of the rest of the fleet and broke through the enemy line:



People forget that after Trafalgar, the war still had years to run. With Nelson gone, Collingwood was chosen for the critical Mediterranean station.  There he faithfully executed the duties of an Admiral of the Royal Navy: patrol, blockade, diplomacy, and endless paperwork.  Perhaps it was this last that deprived him of the opportunity to achieve greater things. Geoffrey Marcus explains:

[H]is meticulous attention to detail became an obsession. "He seems to do everything himself," Codrington had declared, "with great attention to the minutiae." To this absorption of Collingwood's in paperasserie was almost certainly due, in part at least, his failure to intercept Ganteaume... "I am ceaselessly writing," he observed..."and the day is not long enough for me to get through my business."

From London's perspective, Collingwood was perfect. The Admiralty could be certain that no detail of administration would be overlooked, that every expenditure would be carefully weighed and meticulously reported, and that there would be thorough and regular reports of events in region. Collingwood was nothing if not accountable.

So, they ignored his pleas to come home:

Under the strain of the arduous blockading routine and the difficulties and dangers of the constantly changing military and political situation, worn out before his time by long years of heavy and incessant mental toil, Collingwood's erstwhile strong constitution was progressively undermined. Weighed down by the grievous burden of his responsibilities, and sick with longing for family and home, he nevertheless obliged himself to endure the unnatural life he led. At last, in March 1810, his health broke down altogether, and the doctors ordered him home to England. But it was then too late; he died on the first day of the homeward passage.

Collingwood finally got the biography he deserved in 2005. A skillful seaman and capable leader, he lies today next to Nelson in St. Paul's, doomed to be overshadowed for all of living memory and - holy smokes! - did you know Nelson's coffin was made, at the request of one of his captains, from the mainmast of L'Orient?! Wow!

Where was I?  Oh yes.  Anyway, it wasn't just Collingwood.  Saumarez, arguably an even greater officer, gets the same treatment. He was a daring frigate captain (here is good tale), and became an excellent admiral. A year older than Nelson, he'd commanded in combat three times (Dogger Bank, the Saintes, and Groix) before the future Lord Nelson officered in a major battle. Like Collingwood, Saumarez was in the line at Cape St. Vincent, the first of Nelson's legendary performances.

Really, it all begins at Cape St. Vincent.  Jervis, commanding the fleet, has the right stuff. He takes an inferior force (15 ships of the line against 27 Spanish) and "goes right at 'em." When the Spanish, sailing in two disorganized groups, fail to form up quickly, he signals the fleet:

Admiral intends to pass through enemy lines

And so he does:


It is perfect. The Spanish have to be careful not to hit each other with their cannon fire, while the British can blast away on both sides. The Spanish lee division turns to larboard, trying to reunite with the rest of the fleet. Culloden, leading the line, tacks and goes after the main body, with the rest of the fleet tacking in succession behind her.

The tacking point becomes the fulcrum of the battle, with the British ships blasting the Spanish lee division as they come about, and the Spaniards try to break through to rejoin the main body. Blenheim and Prince George come around without incident, and then Orion (Saumarez). But Colossus, with significant rigging shot away, has to wear instead, exposing her to enemy fire. Saumarez coolly backs his sails and covers Colossus as she completes the maneuver. A smart bit of seamanship there, and it might be remembered to this day, except for what happened next.



Failing to break through, the Spanish lee division starts to fall away a bit, looking to link up to the north as the English rear come down to tack and give up their intervening position. The Spanish forces to windward begin to bend to downwind to effectuate this.

Aboard Captain, third ship from the English rear, Nelson realizes Culloden won't get there in time to prevent the reunification of the Spanish fleet. In violation of orders and protocol, he wears ship and cuts across the bow of Collingwood's Excellent.



This achieves the goal of putting Captain between the two elements of the Spanish fleet. It also has the less desirable effect of putting Captain in a position where 6 or 8 Spanish ships can blast away at her until Culloden and the rest can come up and support her. The foretopmast and helm are shot away in relatively short order.  Tellingly, Collingwood was behind Nelson in the line of battle, and did not follow him in this maneuver - Collingwood was capable, not suicidal. 

But...somehow...Nelson has confused things to the point where two Spanish ships, San Nicolas and San Jose have become entangled.  And...somehow...Captain gets alongside San Nicholas, and with a shout of "Westminster Abbey or Glorious Victory!" Nelson's boarders compel the surrender of both Spanish ships, using San Nicolas as a "patent bridge" to San Jose. This is how legends are born.

Saumarez liked Nelson. He was an early convert to The Prodigy's consensus leadership style, and was second-in-command at the Nile, where he took a serious wound to the thigh. Afterward he got the captains together and collected funds for a ceremonial sword to be presented to Nelson. But Nelson's democratic style also hurt Saumarez. Roger Knight explains:

The outstanding success of the action enabled [Nelson] to avoid the awkwardness of selecting individuals for particular mention.. The dispatches of Howe, St. Vincent, and Duncan had created extreme discord among their officers after their victories. [But] Ross argues several times that Saumarez should have received "some mark of distinction" [for his performance at the Nile].

From 1807 through the end of the Napoleonic Wars in 1813, Saumarez was posted to the Baltic, charged with keeping trade with the Scandinavian countries open (particularly Sweden), thereby subverting Napoleon's Continental System.

It wasn't glamorous work. Saumarez had to protect shipping, conduct diplomacy, and fight off a seemingly endless series of gunboat attacks by the Danes.

It was his diplomatic achievements that had the greatest positive impact. Marcus reports on perhaps his finest hour:

In the autumn of 1810 Sweden was finally constrained by French pressure, not merely to close her ports to British commerce, but even to declare war against us. In the following spring she proceeded to arrest a large number of merchantmen which had taken refuge in her southern ports. Saumarez thereupon threatened the Swedes with reprisals; but in a private interview on board the Victory with Count Rosen, the governor of Gothenburg, the matter was amicably settled...things went on as usual.

[T]hanks to the firm but conciliatory policy pursued by Saumarez, no attempt was made to retaliate against Swedish commerce; and the formal war never developed into actual hostilities.

Last year's Admiral Saumarez vs. Napoleon - The Baltic, 1807-12, by Tim Voelcker, is a welcome corrective, and - let us hope - the end of 200 years of neglect for one of the Royal Navy's finest leaders.

Despite his unquestioned genius in battle, I think it is fair to say that Nelson could not have achieved what Collingwood and Saumarez did.  Theirs was the achievement of true Imperial commanders - they provided a staying, steadying presence in key regions, collecting intelligence, negotiating with allies and enemies, and representing the greatest empire the world has ever known.

Nelson was no good for that.  He was kind to his men but, really, he was not a leader in the conventional sense.  It is hard to look on it steadily, but if we are honest he was nothing more than a brilliant, single-minded killer.  Hounded by his honor like a demon, all he could do was win battles - until his time was up.