Such are the risks of naval warfare, in which even the greatest geniuses at times groped but blindly.  Nelson was not afraid to confess the truth.  The French Emperor, however, seems never to have made an admission which would mar his claim to strategic infallibility.  Even now, when the Spanish ships were proved to clog the enterprise, he persisted in merely counting numbers, and in asserting that Villeneuve might still neutralize the force of Calder and Cornwallis.  These hopes he cherished up to August 23rd, when, as the next chapter will show, he faced right about to confront Austria.  His Minister of Marine, who had more truly gauged the difficulties of all parts of the naval enterprise, continued earnestly to warn him of the terrible risk of burdening Villeneuve’s ships with the unseaworthy craft of Spain and of trusting to this ill-assorted armada to cover the invasion now that their foes had divined its secret.  The Emperor bitterly upbraided his Minister for his timidity, and in the presence of Daru, Intendant General of the army, indulged in a dramatic soliloquy against Villeneuve for his violation of orders:  “What a navy!  What an admiral!  What sacrifices for nothing!  My hopes are frustrated—–­ Daru, sit down and write”—­whereupon it is said that he traced out the plans of the campaign which was to culminate at Ulm and Austerlitz.[336]

The question has often been asked whether Napoleon seriously intended the invasion of England.  Certainly the experienced seamen of England, France, and Holland, with few exceptions, declared that the flat-bottomed boats were unseaworthy, and that a frightful disaster must ensue if they were met out at sea by our ships.  When it is further remembered that our coasts were defended by batteries and martello towers, that several hundreds of pinnaces and row-boats were ready to attack the flotilla before it could attempt the disembarkation of horses, artillery, and stores, and that 180,000 regulars and militia, aided by 400,000 volunteers, were ready to defend our land, the difficulties even of capturing London will be obvious.  And the capture of the capital would not have decided the contest.  Napoleon seems to have thought it would.  In his voyage to St. Helena he said:  “I put all to the hazard; I entered into no calculations as to the manner in which I was to return; I trusted all to the impression the occupation of the capital would have occasioned."[337]—­But, as has been shown above (p. 441), plans had been secretly drawn up for the removal of the Court and the national treasure to Worcester; the cannon of Woolwich were to be despatched into the Midlands by canal; and our military authorities reckoned that the systematic removal of provisions and stores from all the districts threatened by the enemy would exhaust him long before he overran the home counties.  Besides, the invasion was planned when Britain’s naval power had been merely evaded, not conquered.  Nelson and Cornwallis and Calder would not for ever be chasing phantom fleets; they would certainly return, and cut Napoleon from his base, the sea.