CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Baltic Sea, 1801

Nelson and the Battle of Copenhagen

It was during 1798, while Bligh continued his command of Director as a front-line patrol ship on the English Channel, that news came of a spectacular victory for the Royal Navy. Admiral Horatio Nelson had crushed the French fleet in the Battle of the Nile at Aboukir Bay near Alexandria, on the coast of Egypt. The French had been there with the intention of invading Egypt to limit arch-enemy Britain’s trade routes and challenge British authority over India. It was a component of Napoleon Bonaparte’s long-term strategy to stretch British military resources and subsequently defeat the Royal Navy on the English Channel, a victory that would make England vulnerable to invasion.

Britain rejoiced with the news of Nelson’s achievement. Bligh was certainly impressed, too: he made special mention of it in a communication with Banks. Little did he realise then that a few years later he would be fighting as a commander alongside Nelson in what would be another similarly meritorious British victory.

Bligh commanded Director in his trademark commendable manner through to the turn of the century, acquitting himself with distinction no matter what the order from Admiralty. What pleased him most, however, was that he was nearly back to full health. On a few occasions he again patrolled with the North Sea Fleet, and at the end of 1799 he was given the order to sail his ship to St Helena, where a wide range of plants were to be collected and delivered to Kew Gardens in London.

It was an expedition he welcomed: a stimulating break from five years of sailing with squadrons on the often boisterous, cold and unwelcoming North Sea and English Channel. Bligh took considerable time during this sometimes rough passage to enjoy the then rare pleasure of creating charts. He took care to detail the ship’s entire track and presented it to Banks for inclusion in maritime records to help future navigators ‘eliminate the difficulties attending travelling by sea’. The map was subsequently published.

That reference came in another letter to Banks in what was then the new century, the eighteenth century. That same note, written in June 1800, made mention that Bligh expected Director to be laid-up, saying ‘the ship is reported to require four months repair’.

It is likely that Director did go for repair because in the latter part of 1800 the Admiralty called on Bligh’s exceptional surveying and hydrographical skills for a number of projects. He had already completed an extensive survey of the entrance to the Humber in 1797, although it was not as accurate as he had hoped because he was called away from there ‘at short notice’. Where he did excel and display the full extent of his remarkable talent was in Dublin. His arrival in the town was noted in the Lloyd’s Evening Post on 17 September l800:

At the desire of the Lord Lieutenant, the Lords of the Admiralty have recommended a skilful naval Officer, which is arrived in this city, for the purposes of making surveys of the harbour and adjacent coasts … providing means for the safety and accommodation of shipping. The officer who has come over for this purpose is Captain William Bligh, a gentleman distinguished in the navy for his professional skill, experience and enterprise.

The need for a safer approach to the port was due to the loss of many ships because of the unpredictable movement of sandbanks at the entrance to the harbour. Bligh’s expertise extended to an incisive understanding of tidal flows and currents, which would prove to be vital for this project. Eventually Bligh decided he could wait no longer for the weather to improve: winter was approaching, so he set out in a small open boat to survey Dublin Bay and its tidal flows over many weeks. His recommendation was for the construction of two converging seawalls which, he declared, would create a Venturi effect on each ebb tide and this would scour away the sandbanks. What became known as the Bull Wall was so effective that it remains to this day – still doing its designed job.

Bligh also showed inventive skills during this time. Back in England he presented the Admiralty with a model of an instrument that would allow for the rapid calculation of bearings of land or ships ‘when sudden emergency will not allow of time to use a compass for that purpose’.

As far as his naval career was concerned, his tenure as commander of Director was coming to an end – but it wasn’t the end of his life in the navy.

For decades the British were the single enemy of many of the countries of Europe, none more so than France. In 1799 Napoleon – wanting to free up forces so he could concentrate on his desire to control much of Europe – tentatively offered a peace deal to England, but it was promptly rejected. It was a response he wouldn’t easily forget.

Napoleon was closely allied to the mentally unstable Tsar Paul of Russia, and in early 1801 the Tsar convinced Denmark and Sweden to blockade a British lifeline – its sea trade into the Baltic. One of the first acts in establishing this embargo came when the Danes seized Hamburg, Britain’s most important link for trade with the German states.

The British response was immediate and strong: the Admiralty ordered a formidable fleet to be gathered under the command of Admiral Sir Hyde Parker – whose father of the same name led the British fleet at Dogger Bank – and sail to the Baltic. The squadron’s second-in-command was the recent maritime hero, Vice Admiral Lord Horatio Nelson – and Bligh, who on 18 March 1801 stepped aboard as commander of the fifty-six-gun ship HMS Glatton and was to be part of Nelson’s attack force.

Glatton was a hefty ship-of-the-line displacing 1,256 tons. Initially she was armed only with carronades, the powerful short-range weapons which, because of the damage they could inflict with their sixty-eight-pound cannonballs, put extreme fear into the hearts of the enemy. Their effectiveness had been all too evident to Bligh at Camperdown when HMS Rainbow needed to fire just one round from its sixty-eight-pounder to cause the captain of the French ship Hebe to haul down his colours and surrender.

Bligh was at home with his family when he was informed of his appointment as captain of Glatton and was urgently required aboard. On 12 March he wrote of the circumstances to Banks:

I was doing my utmost in proceeding according to my appointment, and in consequence severe as it was … I left my family at a moment’s warning. Instead of going into Yarmouth Roads, as I expected, the fleet being under sail I have joined them at sea … I am attached to this fleet of Sir Hyde Parker.

Once aboard and heading north under sail, Bligh soon realised he didn’t consider Glatton to be anywhere near as good as other ships he had commanded. He noted: ‘I do not like my ship, as she has nothing to recommend her as a man-of-war, but her great shot.’ Despite this reservation, Glatton would present Bligh with his greatest moment in battle.

Much to the surprise of the British, when they began their move towards the Baltic by entering the narrow sound between Denmark and Sweden, there was no hostile fire from the Swedish coast, possibly because the Swedish guns did not have the range. However, since they could see the Danish fleet anchored in a defensive formation in the inner channel (Royal Passage, off Copenhagen) Nelson, aboard his flagship HMS Elephant, declared those ships to be the immediate target.

On 30 March the British fleet was anchored in the middle of the sound off the island of Hven, fourteen nautical miles north of Copenhagen, and once there the plans were made for a fleet attack on the Danish ships. At the same time the Danes advised the British that if they proceeded through the extremely narrow entrance to the Strait of Copenhagen, they would come under fire.

Ignoring this threat, the British went about preparing for battle in the strait, including having Captain Hardy, of the ninety-four-gun ship HMS St George board a pinnace and, in the dead of night, covertly travel almost right up to the edge of the Danish line so the depth of water could be checked.

The battle took place on 2 April: Nelson, with the twenty ships making up his squadron – all of seventy-four guns or less and including Glatton – looped around and approached slowly down-current from the south so they remained in formation and anchored parallel to the Danish line, the two sides a cable-length apart. Unfortunately for Nelson, while his squadron was moving into position, three of his most valuable ships, HMS Bellona, HMS Russell and HMS Agamemnon, grounded on a shoal and could proceed no further. Hyde Parker’s ships stood guard to the north.

The scene was set, as Bligh described:

The enemy’s line was nearly N & S. They had seven line-of-battle ships south of the Crown Battery, five low ships like sloops of war, and six floating batteries; in all, 18. Northward of the Crown Battery were two line-of-battle ships and four brigs; and within the battery, two line-of-battle ships and a frigate rigged. Total 27 ships and vessels of war, besides gun-vessels alongshore and batteries, all of whom threw shot at us.

It was late morning when the first broadsides were let loose, the booming sound that came with each barrage echoing across the sound and the city itself. Each time the pungent smoke was cleared by a puff of wind the dreadful impact of the cannon balls, weighing from twenty-four pounds to more than sixty pounds, was evident. Masts were sent crashing to the deck, bulwarks and topsides were being smashed into splinters and decks split open. The human toll was horrible: men were being crushed, drowned and blown apart. The firing was relentless. Each time a cannon ball departed a muzzle crew rushed to reload, and young boys, the powder monkeys, kept running powder from the magazine to the gun positions.

Bligh was in the thick of the action as Glatton was anchored south of Elephant. After more than two hours of engagement Hyde Parker, watching from the north from his flagship, HMS London, was growing concerned: the Danes appeared to be getting the upper hand in the onslaught. He decided that Nelson and his squadron should break from the action, so had the ‘Leave off Action’ signal hoisted aloft on London. What followed was one of the most famous moments in British naval history. Nelson, who was blind in one eye, took his telescope and put it to that eye, saying ‘I really do not see the signal’. Bligh also did not acknowledge seeing the signal.

Nelson’s squadron continued fighting, and it would turn out to be a brave and rewarded call. By two o’clock in the afternoon it was all over. The Danish line had ceased firing, many of its ships adrift and some on fire. Other commanders had lowered their colours and surrendered.

Bligh’s log revealed the action as he saw it:

At 7.45, signal prepare for battle and anchor by the stern, with springs on the cables.

At 9.45 prepare to weigh. At same time Edgar, Ardent and Glatton to weigh, and the other ships in succession … we anchored precisely in our station abreast of the Danish Commodore.

At 10.26 the action began. At noon, the action continuing very hot, ourselves much cut up. Our opponent, the Danish Commodore, struck to us, but his seconds ahead and astern still keep up a strong fire.

At 11.24, our fore top-mast was shot away, seven of our upper deck guns disabled by the enemy.

Soon after the British had secured victory there came an extremely important moment for Bligh: ‘Lord Nelson in the Elephant, our second ahead, did me the honour to hail me to come on board, and thank me for the conduct of the Glatton.’

While this meeting took place both men could see the Danish commanding officer’s ship, Dannebrog, in flames nearby. The fire had started as a result of the attack by Glatton.

At three o’clock Bligh decided it was time to move away. Glatton, with ‘seven upper deck guns and two lower disabled by the enemy’s shot’, slipped her cable and sailed out, her mast was ‘dangerously wounded’ and the rigging and sails ‘shot to pieces’. Bligh called for a course back to a safe anchorage where the Commander-in-Chief, Sir Hyde Parker, and his squadron were anchored.

As they anchored at around four o’clock there was a massive explosion. Bligh looked back towards Copenhagen and saw it was Dannebrog – the fire had obviously reached the ship’s magazine. More than 250 men were killed in the explosion. Fifty-two survivors from the ship would later be put aboard Glatton as prisoners.

The morning after the battle it was time for a sober review for all captains in the squadron. While Nelson went ashore to Copenhagen to negotiate an armistice – which would give the British access to Copenhagen and the Baltic – Bligh, like the others, took stock of the situation aboard their ships. The dead had to be readied for burial, the wounded treated and the ship had to be repaired and readied for the passage back to England. Bligh had sixty seamen and eleven carpenters from HMS Raisonnable – a ship in Admiral Parker’s squadron – come aboard to repair the damage, which was extensive. ‘If there had been a fresh breeze,’ Bligh reflected, ‘we must have been a mere wreck. Our lower masts must be double fished and mast heads secured by reefing the top masts. Lower yards also require fishes. We are in these respects the most cut up of any ship.’

The battle had delivered a heavy toll – the British had 253 killed and 988 wounded while the Danes had 790 killed, 900 wounded, nineteen ships lost and 2,000 men taken as prisoners. Among the British losses was Captain Edward Riou of Amazon. He was literally cut in half when hit by a chain shot from the enemy.

Two weeks after the Battle of Copenhagen the British learned that Tsar Paul, a man considered by the majority of Russians to be insane, had been murdered and replaced by a new tsar who was not only intent on bringing peace to the region, but was also vehemently opposed to Bonaparte. Had this news reached the British as they prepared for the Battle of Copenhagen it probably would not have taken place.

Bligh’s contribution to the victory at Copenhagen was not lost on the Admiralty. Immediately after the battle he was advised that he was being transferred to the command of the considerably larger HMS Monarch, a seventy-four-gunner whose captain, Captain James Mosse, had been killed in the Battle of Copenhagen, along with fifty-six of his men. This was, however, a brief posting: less than a month. No sooner had Bligh sailed Monarch to anchor at the Nore he was promoted to the command of an even more important vessel, HMS Irresistible, Nelson’s own flagship from his successful campaign against the Spanish at the Battle of Cape St Vincent in 1797.

Bligh’s confidence and self-belief was now fully restored, so much so that he boldly asked Lord Nelson if he would write to John Jervis, the Earl of St Vincent and First Lord of the Admiralty, with a favourable appraisal of his role in the Battle of Copenhagen. Nelson had no hesitation in doing so. On 14 April 1801 he wrote:

Captain Bligh (of the Glatton, who had commanded the Director at Camperdown) has desired my testimony to his good conduct, which, although perfectly unnecessary, I cannot refuse; his behaviour on this occasion can reap no additional credit from my testimony. He was my second, and the moment the action ceased, I sent for him on board the Elephant, to thank him for his support.

In late May, while still at sea, Bligh was honoured to learn that he had been elected a Fellow of the Royal Society, which had then been in existence for 141 years and is today the world’s oldest scientific academy in continuous existence. It was a huge mark of respect; one awarded ‘in consideration of his distinguished services in navigation, botany, and science’. Banks was then president of this exalted organisation and Bligh could have wanted nothing more than to receive the award from his great friend, but unfortunately his ship, Irresistible, had become the flagship for Vice-Admiral Parker, and Bligh ‘dared not quit my ship’.

The next twelve months saw Bligh remain in command of Irresistible either at anchor at Yarmouth Roads or with his squadron cruising off the coast of Holland. Peace was now beginning to settle across Europe – the warring factions, particularly Britain and France, were starting to rest easy. Since 1793 these two sides had constantly been engaged in confrontations, thanks in no small part to Napoleon’s belligerence and determination to see his country control much of Europe, and eventually overwhelm England. But the realisation was that this was not going to happen. At this time England had a population of 11 million, while France boasted 27 million. However, this imbalance weighed in England’s favour through the country’s far greater wealth and superiority at sea. The Royal Navy had more than 100 ships-of-the-line at its disposal while France had a mere twenty-three.

It was now time for a tired forty-seven-year-old William Bligh to consider his options: ‘I have so fully given up all my time and exertions to the service that I feel worn out and want a little relief,’ he told Banks while aboard Irresistible at Yarmouth. ‘Under these circumstances I have written to Lord St Vincent requesting he would take my long services into his consideration and as it was now peace I hoped he would allow me to be superseded.’

Lord St Vincent’s answer was a very direct ‘no’.