Beware of Heroes: Admiral Sir Sidney Smith's War against Napoleon

by Peter Shankland

  In submitting it for government approval, Sir Sidney had stated that the alternative to it would be the sending out of European troops to evict the French, and that it would be a difficult operation. They now had to face that unpleasant alternative. The only troops at their disposal were those that had capitulated in Holland in the previous year. They decided to risk them in an expedition to Egypt and, at the same time to send a much smaller force from India to occupy the Red Sea ports, land at Cosseir and cross the desert to challenge the French hold on the Upper Nile.

  On 27th October Keith received orders to transport the British troops to Egypt, and to obtain all the necessary information respecting the state of the enemy from Sir Sidney Smith. Lord Spencer had completely regained confidence in his friend’s judgement. He wrote to him as follows:

  I trust that the operations which by the time this reaches you will probably be going on in your part of the world will prove successful, and I need not say how much of my confidence in their success rests on my knowledge that your assistance will be given...to the utmost of your power.

  Chapter Fourteen – The Landing at Alexandria

  The main expeditionary force consisted of 14,144 infantry, 1,063 cavalry and 630 gunners. The accompanying fleet numbered 138 ships, including five of the line and 100 troopships which were mostly old two-deckers with the lower tiers of guns removed. The command was entrusted to General Sir Ralph Abercromby, sixty-six years of age, who in many hard campaigns had won the esteem of all ranks for his never-failing courage and resourcefulness. His instructions were to bring about the evacuation of Egypt by the French, offering them the same terms that Sir Sidney had obtained at El Arish and that the government had refused to accept until it was too late. Confronted by the problem of landing his men on an open beach to face a seasoned and veteran army not inferior in numbers to his own, he had no illusions about the difficulties that lay ahead: ‘I never went on any service,’ he wrote to Dundas, ‘entertaining graver doubts of success.’ He looked upon Sir Sidney as one of the key men in the expedition, earnestly sought his advice, and based his plan of campaign on the information he provided.

  The second force, starting out from India, consisted of 7,546 men commanded by General Baird. Its prospects of success depended entirely upon the outcome of negotiations that Sir Sidney had started with Murad Bey to detach him from the French service and bring about his reconciliation with the Turks. This was one of the negotiations he had informed Lord Spencer he felt in honour bound to continue in spite of the withdrawal of his powers. If he succeeded, Upper Egypt would be recovered without a shot being fired; but with Murad still governing the country for France, the Indian Expedition would find it difficult even to obtain transport to cross the desert from the Red Sea to the Nile.

  Lord Keith had reason to congratulate himself that he had resisted the demands for Sir Sidney’s removal from the Levant. With the exception of Captain Hallowell, who had been employed on the blockade of Alexandria, he had no one else to consult. When asked by the Admiralty to submit a plan he replied, on 27th October, that it would be presumptuous of him to offer at that moment any decided plan because he had been so little on the coasts of Egypt and Syria himself. He was proceeding to Rhodes where he expected to find Sir Sidney Smith with whom their future naval operations would have to be concerted. Admiral Sir Richard Bickerton had been appointed second-in-command to Lord Keith, as Nelson had gone home, and Captain Sir Alexander Cochrane was put in charge of the disembarkation.

  Lord Elgin was delighted to hear that Sir Sidney was no longer even the senior naval officer in the Levant. He addressed Lord Keith as follows:

  My dear Lord, I am induced from the friendly tenor of your private letter to me to express the satisfaction which every person acquainted with affairs in this neighbourhood, and anxious for our success, must feel on your appointing a senior officer to Sir S. Smith to come for a time to these seas. Sir S. has by no means the steadiness for the situation he has held. And unless the plain conduct of the English navy is substituted for the indescribable line of proceedings which has been going on here, I can answer for nothing...

  Lord Grenville had assured Elgin from Downing Street that he alone was responsible for the conduct of British interests at the Porte: ‘The powers and commission with which Sir Sidney Smith was furnished have long ceased,’ he had written, ‘by the complete accomplishment of the object to which alone they were directed.’ (This certainly implied that there had been an object in sending him out beyond the actual signing of the treaty, but he didn’t state what it was.) Grenville continued:

  His situation stands, therefore, on the same footing as that of any other officer of the same rank in His Majesty’s naval force who might be employed in the like manner...he is now charged with no function which can in any manner interfere with the duties of your lordship’s embassy.

  Elgin had tried repeatedly to make it clear to everyone what the actual state of their relative importance was but Sir Sidney, instead of reverting to the rank of a naval captain, had somehow become ‘Sidney Bey’, or ‘Smit Bey’, a figure of almost legendary renown: the Turks, Arabs, Mamelukes, Egyptians, Cretans, Greeks and Albanians could not easily be persuaded that he was anything else. Even the Grand Vizier and the Captain Pasha continued to treat him with marked respect.

  On 28th December, 1800, The Tigre led the fleet into the beautiful landlocked harbour of Marmorice, in Asia Minor, thirty miles north of Rhodes. This was the rendezvous that both Sir Sidney and Captain Hallowell had recommended. Except on the north-east where there was a Turkish village and a castle, the surrounding hills were covered from the summits to the water’s edge with forests of box trees and fragrant myrtle where wild beasts howled all night. Turkish reinforcements were expected to join them there. Troops, gunboats, transports, provisions, and horses for the cavalry had all been promised, but only a few gunboats appeared, some scanty provisions, and horses of such poor quality that most of them were unfit for service. They were slaughtered or sold to the local inhabitants. The co-operation was so meagre that Abercromby and Keith were in doubt whether the Captain Pasha seriously intended to help them or not. Gone were the days when Sir Sidney could bring out the Sultan’s firman and command obedience. He could only write to Lord Elgin, suggesting what was required and asking him to make the necessary arrangements with the Turkish authorities.

  The long-bearded Turkish Governor of Marmorice, escorted by Sir Sidney, paid a ceremonial visit to the fleet. He boarded most of the ships and dined on board the Stately. Seeing some men of the Royal Scots near the gangway he addressed them in Gaelic, which surprised them much. He explained, later in the wardroom, that his name was Campbell: for some misdemeanour in his youth he had had to leave his native Argyllshire, and in the hazards of an adventurous career he had won for himself a respectable position under the Turks and lost his nose in the war with Russia. It had been replaced by a silver one, painted flesh-colour; he tapped it with a spoon, and sure enough it had a metallic ring.

  When the formalities had been completed, the sick were landed, the ships were cleaned, and a bakery was set up on shore. The troops, who had been for weeks in the cramped quarters of the transports, encamped in a pleasant valley by a small stream. For the next six weeks, under the direction of Captain Sir Alexander Cochrane, they were exercised by brigades in landing on the beach and in getting their guns, ammunition and equipment ashore, until each man knew exactly what he had to do. They were also employed in making fascines and palisades for lining and supporting their trenches after landing in Egypt. With the willing assistance of the Governor, a market was established to which the country people brought their produce, and small sailing craft came to it from far and wide.

  On 20th February, 1801, the troops were re-embarked, and the fleet weighed anchor on the 22nd. On 1st March they reached the Bay of Abukir, but a heavy swell and a freshening wind caused the landing attempt to be postponed. For the next six days they lay in the bay in full view of the enem
y, about seven miles from the shore, the Foudroyant’s cable chafing on the wreck of L’Orient, the French flagship at the Battle of the Nile. They saw before them a crescent beach with low sandhills beyond it, a blockhouse to the left at the entrance to Lake Madieh, and to the right thick scrub and a few palm-trees. On the extreme right the Castle of Abukir commanded the whole shore.

  During the training period at Marmorice, two French frigates had run the blockade into Alexandria bringing reinforcements of about 800 men; and after the arrival of the British force another French frigate, and also a brig, managed to get in by pretending to be part of the invasion fleet. There were persistent rumours that Admiral Ganteaume was approaching from Toulon with seven sail of the line and three frigates.

  On the morning of the 8th, the wind and the sea moderated. The first division of the army, 5,500 men, started for the shore in three lines of cutters, launches, and flat-bottomed boats each of which carried, besides the crew, fifty close-packed soldiers weighed down with muskets, ammunition, water bottles and three days’ rations. The landing was supported by two bomb ketches, the Tartarus and the Fury, and by three sloops of war which bombarded the castle and the blockhouse. Captain Cochrane’s barge led the way, bearing a large St. George’s Cross. Sir Sidney commanded the third line which carried the artillery.

  The French, having had ample warning, took up a position on the sandhills with a battery of twelve guns, and opened a devastating fire of grapeshot and musketry on the boats as they approached, inflicting many casualties. They sunk the Foudrayant’s flat-bottomed boat by a direct hit which caused some confusion because the nearest boats went to her assistance, and General Abercromby, following in the Kent’s barge, thought, mistakenly, that they were turning back. When the first line got close to the beach, the French brought down their guns and their grenadiers to the water’s edge and fiercely, but unsuccessfully, contested the landing. Then their cavalry rushed down in a whirl of sand and charged the half-formed regiments to drive them into the sea; but the British stood firm until the second line of boats brought reinforcements and they were able to clear the beach at the point of the bayonet. Meanwhile the launches had come in, with guns secured in the bows with slides for the wheels. The seamen cut the lashings, ran the guns down on to the sand and brought them immediately into action. Three hundred seamen, led by Sir Sidney, dragged them to the top of the sandhills and opened fire upon their retreating enemies who were driven back along the isthmus towards Alexandria.

  As a result of this brilliant combined operation, a beachhead was established within half an hour of the first landing. During the day the rest of the troops were brought ashore, and the wounded were taken back to the ships. Casualties numbered about 600, of whom nearly 100 were seamen. General Abercromby advanced three miles towards Alexandria, and took up a position with his right on the sea and his left on Lake Madieh. On the 13th he advanced again. The French, having brought up reserves, counter-attacked and were repulsed, but a further attempt to move forward resulted in an indecisive action in which the British gained some ground but sustained 1,100 casualties to the French 500. The Castle of Abukir surrendered after a siege of five days.

  Although Abercromby had made good his landing, the French still held nearly all the advantages: their reserves were greater, they had a fortified city to fall back on, they knew the terrain, and they were accustomed to the climate. By 18th March, fever and battle casualties had reduced the British effective strength to about 10,000 men, many of whom were suffering from night blindness. One regiment, the 90th, when ordered out on picket duty, posted its sentries in pairs, one man to look and one man, partially blind, to listen. Those who were totally blind were left in groups here and there in the rear of their companies.

  Encouraged by the retreat of the French army, Bedouin Arabs in ever increasing numbers came into the British camp to sell sheep, chickens and vegetables. On the 20th, one of them sought out Sir Sidney and gave him a letter from a friendly sheikh, warning him that General Menou with the whole French army from Cairo and the interior had passed through Damanhou, and that he intended to make a night attack on the British lines.

  General Abercromby scarcely credited this information because it seemed to him that the French general would be wiser to stay in his strong positions and let himself be attacked instead of hazarding everything in a night action; however, to take no chances, and because Sir Sidney assured him that the attack would take place, he prepared to receive it.

  It began at 3.30 a.m. on the 21st with some scattered musketry and cannon fire directed against the British left. Then on the British right the vedettes rode in, their horses flecked with foam, and reported the enemy advancing in great strength. The advance posts were withdrawn and the long line of British troops waited in silence, the reflection of the watch fires glittering on their fixed bayonets. Long before anything could be seen, the measured tread of a mass of infantry could be heard, and the neighing of many horses. Aides-de-camp galloped along in front of the line with the general’s orders to the batteries to reserve the grape and cannister till the enemy touched the muzzles of the guns.

  Suddenly trumpets sounded the charge, and there was wild commotion. The French cavalry broke through the British line; but the men faced about and continued to fire. The cavalry re-formed and charged back again, but this time they were stopped, and when dawn broke the two armies were intermingled in the greatest confusion. General Abercromby, who had sent all his staff away with various orders, engaged in a hand-to-hand scuffle with a young French officer of the Dragoons, and must have fallen if an infantryman had not rushed forward and bayoneted his assailant; at the same moment he was wounded by a musket ball which lodged near the hip-joint. The first officer to reach him was Sir Sidney who had been wounded in the right shoulder and whose sword was broken. The General, making light of his own wound, gave Sir Sidney the French officer’s sword, which had remained in his hands, and Sir Sidney gave him his horse. The battle continued with undiminished fury, the French gradually getting the worst of it until, at about 10 a.m., when both sides had nearly exhausted their ammunition, General Menou sounded the retreat and withdrew his men in good order to Alexandria, leaving the ground covered with dead and wounded men and horses. Thousands of brass cannon balls lay glistening in the sand among the wrecked tents and torn canvas in the British lines. British casualties were 1,500; and the French about 4,000 including Generals Lanusse and Roize.

  Sir Sidney, who had been constantly in the thick of the fighting, was not incapacitated by his wound, which was caused by a glancing blow from a musket ball. On the evening of the 23rd, two days after the battle, he was sent to Alexandria under a flag of truce to propose in the names of General Abercromby and Lord Keith that the French should capitulate and evacuate Egypt without being considered as prisoners of war. The proposal was not accepted.

  General Abercromby’s wound turned out to be more serious than had at first appeared. Attended by his son, Colonel Abercromby, he was taken on board the flagship, Foudroyant; the surgeons failed to extract the bullet and he died on the evening of 28th March.

  Meanwhile in London the Government had again censured Sir Sidney by reiterating in Parliament that he had acted at El Arish without authority. When he heard of this, he wrote to Lord Elgin as follows:

  I find myself under an implied censure, from which I trust you to relieve me, for the word ‘unauthorised’ never can remain applied to me, if your lordship has the goodness to transmit copies of what passed originally on the subject, wherein I was not only authorised, but required and urged, by you, to bring matters to a conclusion in Egypt, in any way that the Porte might choose to terminate it. It would be most proper for your lordship to be the person to correct this error in the minds of the ministers.

  It was perhaps asking too much of a professional diplomat to clear a colleague by drawing ministers’ attention to correspondence that would prove that they had, wittingly or unwittingly, made a false assertion in Parliament, particula
rly when they had refused the opposition’s demand to see that correspondence. He replied:

  The only possibility of proceeding with fairness and consistency, either to government, to myself, or to others employed here, has been to refer every circumstance of whatever nature to the proper authority. Satisfied, as I am, that however odious some instances in that line of my conduct may for the time appear, yet that ultimately the interests of government, the services of individuals, will be found to have had justice done them, in so far as was within my ability.

  The divergence in their methods was therefore clear. Lord Elgin referred every circumstance of whatever nature to the proper authority; Sir Sidney referred every circumstance in which human rights were involved to his own conscience, and accepted the responsibility for his own decisions.

  Now that the French had suffered a decisive defeat, he was convinced that, if they were pressed hard, most of the garrisons, the majority of whom had favoured Kléber’s policy of evacuation, would be ready to accept terms. He expressed this opinion to Abercromby’s successor, General Hutchinson, and urged him to make an immediate advance. The general, a cautious man, was unwilling to move. He was, in fact, in rather an invidious position: he knew that if he recovered Egypt the credit would go to Abercromby, and that if he failed to recover it, the discredit would be all his own. He enjoyed the confidence neither of his generals nor of his troops, and he was anxious not to make a mistake. Consequently he neither attempted to invest Alexandria or to occupy Rahmanya through which it drew its supplies. After long discussions Sir Sidney prevailed upon him to authorise an attack on Rosetta because from there, he argued, they could open up the easiest route to Cairo, using water transport, and with an abundance of drinking water all the way. Possession of Rosetta would also make it possible for the fleet to draw its fresh water from the Nile.