Nelson: Britannia's God of War

by Andrew Lambert

  On 15 June he wrote to Spencer, in anticipation of his next landfall. He had already decided what the French were doing:

  If they pass Sicily, I shall believe they are going on their scheme of possessing Alexandria, and getting troops to India – a plan concerted with Tippoo Saib, by no means so difficult as might at first view be imagined.

  He enclosed a letter for Fanny reporting the changed situation and, as he was busy, his normal good health.30 Arriving off Naples on 17 June he sent Troubridge ashore to call on Hamilton and the Neapolitan ministers. He was desperate for frigates, without which he feared the French convoy would escape, and pressed the case for the Neapolitans to blockade Malta, and gain ‘part of the glory in destroying these pests of the human race’.31 Hamilton knew the French were at Malta, but in his concern for Sicily forgot to pass on useful evidence that Egypt was the ultimate destination. The Neapolitan people seemed well disposed, but the government was divided and paralysed, fearing a French attack if they assisted the British.

  Nelson appealed to Hamilton to obtain flotilla craft, sending extracts from the official correspondence to show that his squadron would remain in the Mediterranean as long as it could, a time that would be determined by Naples. Expecting a battle off Malta, he called for a Neapolitan flotilla so he could attack the French anchored between Gozo and Comino without risking his battlefleet.32 Discussing the political questions with Hamilton helped Nelson to refine his opinions; the minister offered a different sounding-board to the more narrowly professional approach of his captains.

  With reliable intelligence that the French were at Malta, Nelson hurried south, taking the short cut through the historic, picturesque Straits of Messina. On 22 June a Ragusan merchant ship provided a mixed haul of intelligence. The French had left Malta, but the reported date was three days earlier than their actual departure. This information, combined with the westerly winds, led Nelson to conclude that they had not doubled back to Sicily and decided to press on for Egypt, but it misled him as to the head start the French had gained. He called his chosen captains – Saumarez, Troubridge, Darby and Ball – on board the flagship, where they were joined by Berry for a consultation. Nelson did not call a formal ‘Council of War’, which might have disagreed with him. Instead he set them a few heavily loaded questions, which they understood to mean he was bent on heading east. They did not disagree, although Saumarez was not convinced, thinking Nelson’s arguments ‘the merest conjecture’. As the opinion of the ranking second makes clear, this was not an easy decision: it was more a leap in the dark than a simple pursuit.33 The Royal Navy had little experience of the Eastern Mediterranean, and no English charts. This makes it somewhat surprising that Nelson did not summon Samuel Hood, who had considerable recent experience of the eastern basin, to his conference.

  Shortly after the decision had been made Nelson recalled ships that were pursuing French frigates. His decision was based on the erroneous departure date. If the French were six days ahead he would be wasting his time chasing these detached units. In fact they were the outer screen of the French armada, as a closer inspection would have revealed. The relentless pursuit driven on by Nelson had caught the French, and that night as their tracks crossed he overtook them. With a vast convoy of craft, many unable to navigate other than by coastal marks, the French admiral hugged the south coast of Crete. Nelson, anxious to make up distance took the direct route, passing further south.

  *

  Even before the squadron reached Alexandria, Nelson must have had his suspicions: there was no evidence of the French ahead – no rubbish, no stragglers and no ships. This only heightened the tension. Arriving off Alexandria late on 28 June, Nelson found no French ships. The following day Hardy went ashore: he could not find the British consul, and the Egyptians were perfectly at ease. Unable to contain his mounting fear that his decision might have been wrong, rather than correct but based on inaccurate dates, Nelson did not linger. On 30 June he sailed north, wondering where else the French might have gone. His darkest fear was that they had doubled back to seize Sicily and Naples. Twenty-five hours later the French arrived, and began to land the army. Although Nelson had openly discussed the possibility he might arrive ahead of the French, he still had not waited – an error for which he would later apologise profusely to St Vincent.

  St Vincent was waiting anxiously for news. He had sent his best ships and his best men on a high-risk mission, and the little scraps of information that filtered back were far from reassuring. A dismasted flagship, retreating frigates and a leap in the dark made Nelson’s reports grim reading, and not, he believed, suitable for the eyes of the Admiralty Board. Instead he sent them to Spencer in a private letter, that the First Lord might ‘see the inmost recesses of such a soul as Nelson’s’.34 It would be another ten weeks before he heard good news, but his faith and his anxiety to shield Nelson from the small-minded criticism of the naval officers on Spencer’s Board showed him at his best.

  After heading north for two days, in case the French had made for Turkey, Nelson surrendered to his fears and set a course for Sicily. Arriving on 20 July he found no news of the enemy, but confirmed that they had not returned to the west. Only now did he learn that both Hamilton and Neapolitan Prime Minister Sir John Acton also thought the armada had been bound for Egypt.35 Four days at Syracuse provided fresh food, water, and even an opportunity for the bold to send their washing ashore. Contact with the shore and a few comforts helped to restore the morale of the squadron.36 Nelson attributed the more accommodating attitude of the Sicilian authorities, who provided food and water, to the intervention of the Hamiltons. He set off on 24 July trusting to providence.37

  *

  The French admiral, François-Paul Comte de Brueys d’Aigallieri, a forty-five-year-old pre-Revolutionary officer and aristocrat, had learnt his craft in the West Indies under De Grasse and seen at first hand the great events of 1782. He had been in the West Indies after the war, at the same time as Nelson, commanding a small ship. Rejoining the navy after the Jacobin excesses of the Robespierre period, he had impressed Bonaparte.

  The small French transport ships were soon safely moored in Alexandria harbour, but the much larger, deep-draught battleships posed a problem. They could only be brought into harbour very slowly, by taking out their guns. This would leave them trapped, easily blockaded by one or two British ships. Brueys would have preferred to head for the safe harbour at Corfu, but Bonaparte denied him that option. Instead he anchored just along the coast in Aboukir Bay on 7 July, taking up what he considered a strong defensive position similar to one Lord Hood had used to defeat De Grasse in 1782. He presumed that any attack would be against the rear of his formation, which was more exposed. Consequently his most powerful ships were in the rear and centre of the line, those at the head were the oldest and weakest. With more care he could have positioned the ships tight up to the shoals, and closed up the line by anchoring at the bow and stern. Instead the ships swung at a single anchor, leaving room for an attacker between each ship, and more significantly inshore of the line The appearance of two British frigates off the Bay on 21 July increased French concerns, although they were not in contact with Nelson.

  Meanwhile, as Nelson entered the Gulf of Coron, he finally picked up the final pieces of the intelligence jigsaw, and once more set course for Egypt. However, this only redoubled his anxiety. Surely he would be too late: the French would be ashore, and their fleet safely tied up in harbour, out of harm’s way. He would be left to impose a temporary blockade, until his supplies ran low, and then limp back to Gibraltar –the man who missed Bonaparte, and exposed the Indian Empire to a French attack. Had he known that the cabinet was even then reaching such conclusions he would have been further depressed. It is significant that he wrote nothing in this period, too highly wrought to eat, sleep or think of anything but the chance of battle, the long-hoped-for chance to annihilate the enemy.

  Arriving off Alexandria from the west early on 1 August, Nelson could see no
battleships, only the French transports crowded inside the harbour, relatively safe from attack. It was mid-afternoon, shortly before 3 o’clock, when Foley and Hood, in Goliath and Zealous, spotted the masts of the French fleet further along the coast. Aboukir was the only suitable fleet anchorage on the coast, and as the news was received Nelson sat down to a hearty dinner, while Saumarez and his officers paused only to drink to the battle before rushing on deck to see the enemy. The men cheered, from anticipation of glory and prize, or sheer relief at finding the target.

  The moment that made Nelson immortal beckoned. He had four more hours of daylight, but his ships were still scattered: two had been looking into Alexandria, while Troubridge’s Culloden was seven miles astern, with a prize in tow. It would be two hours before he could reach the enemy, leaving a mere two hours to fight before darkness fell with equatorial haste. With Brueys at anchor the initiative lay with him: he could attack, or haul off and wait for the following day. The risk of running aground in an unknown bay, which the French had chosen, or of friendly fire after dark were among the factors that would have given him cause for concern. However, Nelson was confident his squadron could deal with the enemy, and saw no reason to give Brueys the chance to improve his position, or sail out of the bay and try to escape. Brueys had made a fatal error, and as Collingwood stressed, any admiral who made a mistake in Nelson’s presence was doomed.

  Nelson’s command system relied on clear, simple concepts, communicated in plain English at the outset of the cruise, reinforced by discussion. This was a style he had inherited from Hood and St Vincent, and modified with his own unique human insight and warmth. He left his subordinates ample opportunity to develop on his plans, but made sure they had a safety net. His captains knew what was expected. Those who were present at Cape St Vincent needed little reminding that initiative, aggression and skill would be rewarded while the admiral would take responsibility for a bold failure. During the four days at Syracuse there were opportunities for discussion, but no formal conference. That Nelson trusted his captains was evident in every move, yet he knew that while all were competent, they were not equal. Troubridge, Ball, Saumarez and Hallowell were potential fleet commanders; Miller and Foley were fine captains; Hood was relatively unknown, but his very name was a guarantee of talent.

  Just before three o’clock Nelson signalled the squadron to head for the French, recalled the detached ships and ordered Troubridge to cast off his prize. He would not wait to form a line of battle, relying on his ships to get into action as quickly as possible. The Vanguard was among the leading ships as they passed the western shoal, some three miles from the enemy, Nelson called across to Hood asking if it was safe to proceed. Hood promised to lead in with the leadsman, a skilled hand with a weighted line to measure the depth of water. He was making for the head or van of the French line. Nelson then shortened sail and called up Miller in the Theseus to act as his support, allowing Orion and Audacious to pass. At 5.30, with contact imminent, Nelson signalled to form a line as convenient, while Foley, who had a recent French chart, slipped ahead of Hood in the race for the post of honour, leading the line.

  Brueys had been warned of the British squadron by 2 o’clock and had begun to prepare for battle. He had a large number of men ashore, foraging, many too far away to recall. As some of the ships were already two hundred short of complement he called on the four frigates to send over their best gun crews. But Nelson had seized the moment, and Brueys could not recover the time he had lost through faulty dispositions. Instead he was forced to wait as Nelson headed for the weakest part of his line, exploiting ideal wind direction and strength to attack three feeble, old and weakly manned ships. The fort on Bequieres island opened fire, but the range was too great. At least Brueys’ crews were disciplined: they held their fire until the British hadcome to point-blank range, about 250 yards. Even so, the opening French broadsides were inaccurate, and did not halt the attack: firing with a slow match, instead of the flintlocks used by the British, and aiming on the upward roll of the ship, most of their shot went high, or at worst through the British rigging and sails.

  Nelson had anticipated a battle at anchor, adding a signal for cables and springs to be run out through the stern ports to his repertoire of flags at the outset of the cruise. He flew the necessary signal at 4.22, as the ships entered the bay. Unlike Brueys’ force, which had more time to act and no sails to handle, the British ships were prepared by the time they joined the fight, although the failure of three ships to control their stern cables suggests the margin was close. The job was made that much easier by the process of beating to quarters, with marine drummers signalling the ship to ‘clear for action’ as the men removed partitions, bulkheads, spare gear, livestock, and even dinner, to ensure nothing interfered with the smooth steady operation of the guns. Elsewhere the surgeon and his team prepared the cockpit for service as a makeshift operating theatre, and warmed their instruments on Nelson’s specific instruction – for him, the sensation of steel cutting into living flesh was all too recent a memory.

  At 4.52 Nelson signalled for an attack on the van and centre, a concentration of force against part of the enemy line, which he selected because the wind was blowing directly down the French line, making it almost impossible for the rear ships to take part in the opening stages of the battle. He did not know that Brueys had put his weakest ships in the van. He also signalled for each ship to place four lanterns in a vertical alignment on the mizzen mast, to avoid friendly fire after dark.

  Having won the race to lead the line, Foley was responsible for the opening move, and like his chief he did not flinch from exploiting the opportunities his practised eye discerned, satisfied his well-drilled crew would meet his expectations. As he closed the French line Foley could see that the ships were at single anchor, and he worked out that he could sail round the leading French ship, attacking on the inshore side where he expected they had not prepared for battle. At almost the same moment Nelson saw the opening, although it was too late for him to signal. This strongly suggests that Nelson, having foreseen a battle at anchor, let his captains know that he favoured doubling on the enemy line following the precedent set by Lord Hood off GourjeanBay back in 1794. The only question left for Foley to settle was whether he could get inside the French ships.

  The battle of the Nile

  As Goliath rounded the head of the French line Foley fired a first broadside into the bows of the feeble old Guerrière, causing serious damage and loss of life. He planned to anchor alongside, where he was delighted to see the French gunports still packed with stores and quite unprepared, but the anchor cable through the stern ports was allowed to run out to the full extent, and she brought up between the second and third ships in the French line. This left a space for Hood, who also poured his first broadside into the bows of the Guerrière before taking up a position off her port bow, which gave the Zealous a favourable angle of attack. Gould in the Audacious followed him round, fired into the Guerrière and then anchored between her and the next ship, the Conquerant. Saumarez swept further inshore to clear his squadron mates, planning to attack the third French ship, the Spartiate: however, the frigate Sérieuse rashly fired on the Orion. Saumarez waited for his puny opponent to close, before pouring in a single broadside that dismasted and sank the French vessel. In the process Orion missed her mark, and brought up on the bows of the fifth French ship, Peuple Souverain. Miller took the Theseus round the head of the line, her fire dismasting the unfortunate Guerrière, before picking his way between the Zealous and her target, to avoid the inshore shoals. He took position off the bow of the Spartiate.

  Nelson had watched his captains open the battle in magnificent style; now he elected to change the angle of attack. The inshore berth, as Miller had found, was becoming crowded. It was time to double on the enemy, and he turned outside the line, placing Vanguard alongside the Spartiate. The next two ships astern, Minotaur and Defence, followed him, extending down the French line to engage Aquilon and Peup
le Souverain. Bellerophon failed to bring up alongside the eighty-gun Franklin, a formidable opponent for a medium-sized seventy-four, ending up off the bow of the three-decker L’Orient, a ship with a tremendous advantage in weight of broadside and height out of the water. Majestic, the last of the ships in close order when the attack began, arrived off the French line little more than thirty minutes after Goliath had rounded the Guerrière. She also missed her mark. It was now dark, and gunsmoke was beginning to shroud the battlefield. Majestic ended up bow-on to the Hereux, the ninth ship in the French line, unable to fight her guns and under heavy musket fire from the French ship. Captain Westcott was killed before anything could be done. That these two ships both made serious errors of positioning reflected their inability to see the target. Both would pay heavily for their admiral’s temerity in launching an attack under such difficult conditions.

  Further out, Troubridge had cast off his prize at 3 o’clock and hastened to join the fight. He never arrived. As he rounded Aboukir Island he cut the corner and failed to clear the shoal, going hard aground at 6.40. Never one to dwell on a disaster, Troubridge immediately signalled that the Culloden was aground, to warn Alexander and Swiftsure, then coming up astern, and called Hardy over in the tiny Mutine to lay out his anchors in an attempt to get the ship off. Despite lightening ship, and using every exertion, the Culloden was stuck fast, pinned at the bow and stern, her fire-eating captain condemned to be a spectator at the greatest naval battle ever fought. Coming up astern Ball and Hallowell arrived at the French line around 8 o’clock. They entered a diabolical scene, the dark night and thick smoke repeatedly punctured by sharp, stabbing flames from guns, whose thunderous noise was counterpointed by high-pitched yells and screams. That excellent seaman Ball calmly took the Alexander into an ideal position, just off the after-quarter of the French flagship, where his broadside would tell on her weak stern galleries, without risking the response that had already dismasted and shattered Bellerophon. She had cut her cable and was drifting down wind, out of the action and without her recognition lights. She was nearly fired on by Swiftsure, but fortunately for all concerned Hallowell had decided to take up his position before opening fire. This meant that he could furl and secure his sails before releasing the men to serve the guns, thus avoiding the problems suffered by three of his predecessors. Leander was the only fighting ship not engaged, or aground. Thompson’s first thoughts were to assist Culloden, but Troubridge advised him to join the battle. Thompson finally got into the fight after 9 o’clock, taking up a perfect position across the bow of Franklin.