to Nelson had he put at defiance the authority that
controlled him and the irreparable disaster that would have followed.
Villeneuve has been belauded for his gallantry in the fight at
Trafalgar; indeed, we learn, from sources that may be relied upon,
that his bravery, dispositions in battle, and art of enthusing his
followers could not be surpassed. His signals to the fleet were almost
identical with Nelson's. Here is one: "Celui qui ne serait pas dans le
feu ne serait pas a son poste"; the literal translation of which is:
"He who would not be in the fire would not be at his post"; or, "The
man who would hold his post must stand fire," which is quite an
inspiring signal. But I wonder what the eulogists of Villeneuve would
have written of him had he been the victor instead of the defeated. It
is generous to give praise to the unfortunate Admiral for whom Nelson
had such an aversion and who was constantly threatened by him with
vigorous chastisement when he caught him; but generosity was not the
motive--it was only part of the loose-lipped, unclean policy of
decrying Napoleon. It is horrible, ungrateful, and foul brutishness of
the Corsican tyrant to court-martial so amiable and brave a man as
Villeneuve because he proceeded out of Cadiz against orders and
suffered a crushing defeat! It is quite permissible for a French
admiral to put authority at defiance if doing so complies with the
sentiments of anti-Napoleon writers, who were either ill-informed,
purblind critics or eaten up with insincerity or moral malaria! But it
is the maintenance of discipline to have men like Sir John Byng
court-martialled and shot after being tried, it is said, by a not
entirely impartial court, on the supposition that he had neglected his
duty in an engagement with the French off Minorca on the 20th May,
1756, and committed an error of judgment. A rather remarkable method
of enforcing discipline, to shoot an admiral for an error of judgment!

Take another case of high-ordered, solemn devotion to discipline: Sir
Robert Calder, who had gained an important victory over the French at
Finisterre, was court-martialled, condemned and ruined, ostensibly
because he did not achieve a greater victory. The decisions of both
cases were crimes, not desire for the maintenance of discipline. It
was, and ever will be, a stain on the name of justice. I need not
carry this further, except to say that according to the solemn logic
of some writers, it was murde