In the Hour of Victory

by Sam Willis

  Nelson’s thanks to God are also a powerful reminder of his family roots. He was the son of a humble parish priest and his rise through the ranks is one of the finest examples of the Royal Navy rewarding talent with promotion. Patronage was important but its absence was not an insurmountable problem.

  The second striking aspect is that the dispatch is dated 3 August and that it is lucid; in fact, it is beautifully composed. The main battle was fought in the afternoon and evening of 1 August and at roughly 20.30 Nelson was struck in the head by a piece of shrapnel which opened up a nasty wound several inches long and exposed his skull. He immediately thought he was going to die and declared, ‘I am killed; remember me to my wife.’12 There is still some debate over the immediate effects of the wound but Nelson had clearly regained his senses by 3 August when he wrote this letter. The battle, moreover, was rather longer than many suggest. L’Orient blew up at 21.37 on the night of 1 August and there was a notable lull in the combat after 02.00 on the 2nd, but firing began again with the dawn and the final French ships to surrender, Tonnant and Timoléon, did not haul their flags down until the morning of the next day, the 3rd.

  So Nelson, in direct contrast to Duncan after Camperdown, waited until he knew the full scale of his victory before sitting down to compose his letter. It is carefully worded and gives the impression of being composed at leisure and in pleasant surroundings, but don’t let that fool you. Nelson’s head wound was severe enough to cause him intense pain for many weeks to come and his ship, Vanguard, had been battered by the French. He was bloody, bruised and exhausted from two full days of fighting and several weeks of anxious chasing around the Mediterranean. Moreover, at the time of writing, his ship was alive with the groaning of the injured and her masts and yards hung like broken wings. It is a remarkable composition.

  The content is, as St Vincent says, ‘modest’, because Nelson does not detail the number of ships he has captured or destroyed, 11, but the ones that escaped, two ships of the line and two frigates. He could not afford to send his few undamaged ships in chase because they were needed to protect the damaged British warships from French counter-attack and to blockade Alexandria, a salutary reminder that, while the French had lost, they had put up a mighty fight.

  Otherwise, the battle dispatch is remarkably undetailed. There is little information on the exact nature of the attack, the very means by which Nelson won this extraordinary victory, and only a few officers are mentioned: Westcott, who died; Cuthbert, who fought in his place; Hood, who made a valiant single-handed effort to cut off the escaping French ships; and Edward Berry, his flag captain, who caught him when he fell wounded to the deck. In direct contravention of tradition, however, he makes no mention of his second-in-command who, according to the established custom of seniority, was James Saumarez. Nelson’s own appointment to command had defied those traditions of seniority, however, and now Nelson chose to ignore them himself.

  Nelson was no close friend of the ambitious Saumarez and he knew that St Vincent, to whom he owed his own command, actually favoured the far younger Thomas Troubridge in this position. In defiance of convention, he chose not to mention his second-in-command at all, a calculated and significant snub that enraged Saumarez. When Alexander Ball, captain of the Alexander, discovered this, he burst onto deck from his cabin, proclaiming, ‘Nelson says there is to be no second-in-command; we are all alike in his dispatches.’13 The success of this battle is so often attributed to the ‘Band of Brothers’ which Nelson had formed and nurtured in the weeks prior to the battle and their shared understanding of his tactics is certainly impressive, but one must be careful. As this letter shows, Nelson was as calculating as he was charming and his methods could upset as much as they could gratify. He rose because he was talented and favoured, but he did so by climbing over the backs of many talented and deserving officers.

  On the other hand, Nelson was careful to nurture the support of the lower deck and was deliberately profuse in his praise of ‘the Officers and Men of every description’. Interestingly, he has taken such praise a little further here than the reality deserved. To praise his entire fleet, of course, reflected on his ability as a commander and he also knew, and here manipulated, the political currency of a united and successful navy. There is, therefore, no mention of Davidge Gould of the Audacious, whose conduct at the battle greatly displeased Nelson. When, five years later, Gould married, Troubridge sent Nelson the news: ‘Davidge Gould has taken to himself a wife & I believe, & hope, left off the sea.’14

  Although Nelson’s victory at the Nile was deeply impressive, we need to remain aware that the term ‘Band of Brothers’ is in some senses misleading, a false construct. Nelson’s rapid promotion and carefully managed self-promotion generated discord and there was a weak link in every battle fleet. At The Glorious First of June it was Molloy, at Camperdown it was Williamson and at the Nile it was Gould.

  British casualty list and the English and French fleets

  The casualty list that Nelson included with his dispatch lays bare the astonishing scale of his victory. Notice in particular the column marked ‘how disposed of’, an extraordinary phrase that reeks of the fleet’s confidence and pride in its achievement.

  The British fleet lost a total of 218 dead and 677 wounded; 5,225 French sailors were either confirmed dead or had simply vanished in the tornado of battle and no less than 8,930 Frenchmen had their ships destroyed or captured. With casualty figures like these, it is hardly surprising that corpses, and parts of corpses, continued to be found washed ashore along the Egyptian coast for weeks after the battle. There were so many prisoners that the British simply could not cope and sent 3,105 ashore, back to the French army.

  Such treatment of prisoners is different from that after The Glorious First of June, which was fought comparatively close to British shores. Then, the prisoners were crammed into British holds and sent to Portsmouth and Plymouth and thence to prison ships or prisons ashore.

  This list presents the results of the battle in its barest form, as an unmistakable French rout. It became important, therefore, as a document that countered French claims of a moral or strategic victory. Most of the French newspapers, for example, toed the official line and published Villeneuve’s account of the action, which emphasised that the job of the fleet, that of transporting the army to Egypt, had already been achieved and that the British fleet had been severely damaged in the battle. One newspaper, however, the Courrier, a vocal critic of the Directory and its aggressive foreign policy, acquired this list from an English diplomat in Constantinople and published it, dramatically weakening the Directory’s political position.

  The British ships were all, apart from the Leander, 74-gunners. It was very difficult to maintain cohesion in a fleet consisting of mismatched ships, as Duncan had found to his cost at Camperdown when he was unable to form a line of battle out of his rag-tag fleet. Nelson’s fleet, on the other hand, had been carefully selected to be an efficient hunting squadron, while still being powerful enough to hold its own in battle against larger ships. Size has been sacrificed for speed and uniformity and the ships were even similar in age, 10 having been built within a few years of each other in the 1780s. Their captains also knew each other well, having worked together for years in the Cadiz inshore squadron.

  There are, however, no frigates listed in the British fleet. There was one small ship in the fleet not listed here, the 16-gun sloop Mutine, which played no part in the battle but spent her time assisting the stricken Culloden. However the lack of small, fast ships was the single most significant reason that Napoleon ever made it to Egypt. A network of frigates, stretching to the horizon and then beyond, the ships perhaps 20 miles apart but linked like a chain by a system of signalling with flags, guns and sails, was an effective tool for finding an enemy fleet. The British and French fleets were at times so close on their voyage to Egypt that only an extraordinary stroke of luck would have saved Napoleon if Nelson had been able to make or retain contact through even
a few fast ships. Without them he was blind and always behind the game. The absence of frigates also made Nelson’s approach into Aboukir far more risky than it might otherwise have been. Frigates drew less water and therefore could have sailed ahead of the ships of the line, marking out a safe route. But why the lack of frigates? The King of Naples, nominally neutral though a friend to the British, had refused to lend any of his frigates for fear of French reprisals and Nelson had to make do with those few that St Vincent could spare from the continuous burden of trade protection around Gibraltar. In the event, all of those with orders to sail with Nelson either became detached from his fleet before the battle or only joined when it was too late.15

  The list of French ships is also revealing. The scale of the tragedy of L’Orient’s destruction is brought home by her crewlist of 1,010. Note also the names of the French ships. L’Orient is named for the French port of that name on the south Breton coast, once home to the French East India Company and, over 140 years later, a base for German U-boats. Le Franklin is named for Benjamin Franklin, a leading figure of the American Revolution and therefore a great hero of and inspiration to the French Revolutionaries. The Franklin was taken into British service and would later fight on the British side at San Domingo.

  Several of the French ships’ names were chosen by the Revolutionaries for the myth or character that they represented. Spartiate, for example, refers to a warrior of Sparta, a powerful and unique city-state in ancient Greece that defined itself by its intervention in the lives and well-being of its people and its military prowess. Timoléon was a Greek statesman and general who subdued a Sicilian rebellion and imposed a democratic government with strong beliefs in justice. Le Guillaume Tell was named for the same principle but was taken from an altogether different era and location. Guillaume Tell is known to us as William Tell and the story of how the woodsman was forced to shoot an apple off the head of his son by a cruel lord was an inspirational revolutionary folk tale. Tell shot the apple with his crossbow but, before doing so, took out two bolts and kept one to kill the lord if he missed. The lord questioned Tell about the purpose of the second arrow and, when brazenly told it, arrested Tell, who later escaped, assassinated the lord and then led a rebellion. It is a classic tale of tyranny and defiance of it.

  Finally, it is noteworthy how much larger the French fleet is than the British. There are five more ships in total and the French fleet has three 80-gunners, and one 120-gunner. The British fleet, on the other hand, has nothing more powerful than a Third Rate 74. Throughout the entire history of sailing warfare, comprehensive victory, with very few exceptions, was achieved by one fleet somehow achieving numerical superiority over the other. Nelson was therefore already at a significant disadvantage when his fleet discovered the French at anchor, and the fact that they were at anchor was itself another disadvantage. Another unmistakable trend in the history of sailing warfare is that it was very difficult to attack a well-defended and anchored enemy. With no sails to be set, trimmed or furled and no yards to be braced or hoisted, an anchored ship’s crew could concentrate solely on gunnery. By failing to take adequate precautions, however, the French fleet was not as well defended as it could have been, a weakness that Nelson ruthlessly exploited to defy the weight of history.

  French Account of the Battle of the Nile

  The Admiralty had to rely on this French account to see exactly how Nelson won his victory. It was written in captivity on board the British Alexander on its way to Naples. The letter frequently refers to ‘plans’, probably the maps reproduced below.

  The Battle of the Nile posed French officials quite a problem. How could they break the news of such a disaster to their professional superiors and their friends and families? For some, the battle became a focal point for political discourse in Paris. The Fructidor coup, remember, had been secured at sabre-point and there were many right-wing politicians who were ready to seize on any evidence of failure to criticise the aggressive foreign policy of the new Directory. At the same time, such battles offered a magnificent opportunity for the French to revel in revolutionary ideals such as brotherhood, sacrifice and duty. Here was a chance to stoke the fires of military myth and legend from which the increasingly militarised revolution drew its strength. French accounts of the battle, therefore, carried their own currency and were by no means shunned or cast aside.

  This is an excellent example of such an account by a high-ranking administrative officer. It has been carefully constructed. The author is not afraid to explain in detail several failings and misfortunes of the French fleet. He describes how men had been sent ashore to dig wells and how they were forced to take along guards for protection from Bedouin raids. He then admits how few Frenchmen returned to their ships when the British arrived, and that orders to secure each ship to the next astern and to rig springs to the anchor cables were ‘not Generally executed’. This is significant professional criticism, aimed at both officers and men, and it betrays a rotten hierarchy within the French navy.

  The author reserves special favour for those who did stay to fight, however, and he emphasises the French fighting spirit, albeit in a lost cause. The courage of the mortally wounded Brueys is celebrated along with the ‘bravery and intelligence’ of the 10-year-old son of Commodore Casabianca. This is the child later immortalised in Felicia Hemans’ poem ‘Casabianca’, which begins with the line known to generations of British schoolboys: ‘The boy stood on the burning deck’. The poem describes the drama of L’Orient’s destruction before returning to the quarterdeck in the penultimate verse. The boy, however, has vanished: ‘The boy-oh! Where was he?’ This account provides an answer: the boy who had stood on the burning deck found himself in the sea. Unable to swim, he clings to the ship’s wrecked masts with his father. The subsequent explosion then killed them both ‘and put an End to their Hopes and Fears’.

  The surrender of the Franklin is described, but the author makes quite clear the scale of the carnage and destruction aboard her. This account leaves one in no doubt that the Franklin’s crew had fought until there was no point in fighting on. A similar impression is gained from this account of the fates of the Tonnant and Timoléon. The account is carefully structured around the juxtaposition of the hopeless French position and the courage and character of the French sailors in that predicament. The author thus draws attention away from the scale of the disaster, which is not mentioned at all, and towards the principles that the revolution carried so close to its heart. It is a classic propaganda technique that was used repeatedly by French dispatch-writers seeking to deflect blame and detailed criticism of their own performance.

  The 1st of August 1798 Wind NNW light breezes and fair weather The 2nd Division of the Fleet sent a Party of men on shore to dig Wells: Every Ship in the Fleet sent 25 men to protect the workmen from the continual Attacks of the Bedouins and Vagabonds of the Country.

  At 2 O’Clock in the afternoon, the Heureux made the sigl for 12 sail WSW which we could easily distinguish, from the mast heads to be Ships of war. the sigl was then made for all the Boats, Workmen and Guards, to repair on board their Respective Ships, which was only obeyed by a small number At 3 O’clock the Adml not having any doubt, but that the Ships in sight were the Enemy, he ordered the Hammocks to be stowed for action, & directed L’Alerte & La Ruillier Brig sloops of war to reconnoitre the Enemy whom we soon perceived were steering for Beguler Bay, under a Crowd of Canvas, but without observing any order of sailing. At 4 O’clock we saw over the Fort of Aboukad 2 Ships apparently waiting to join the Squadron: without doubt they had been sent to look into the Port of Alexandria. we likewise saw a Brig with the 12 Ships. In 2 Hours they were 14 sail of the Line and a Brig – The English Fleet were soon off the Island of Bequier.

  The Brig Le Alerte then began to fwd the Admiral’s orders into Execution Viz. to stand towards the Enemy until nearly within Gun-Shot & then to Manoeuvre & Endeavour to draw them towards the outer shoal lying off that island. but the English Adml. without Doubt ha
d Experienced Pilots on board as he did not pay any attention to the Brigs Track, but allowed her to go away hauling well round the Dangers. At 4 O’clock a small country boat dispatched from Alexandria to Rosetta, voluntarily Bore down to the English Brig, which took possession of her, notwithstanding the repeated efforts of the Alerte to prevent it by firing a great many shot at the Boat at 5 o’clock the Enemy came to the wind in Succession this Manoeuvre convinced us that they intended attacking us that Evening. The Admiral got the Top Gallant Yards across, but soon made the sigl that he intended engaging the Enemy at An Anchor, convinced without doubt, that he had not Seamen Enough to engage under sail for he wanted at least 200 good seamen for each ship. After this sigl each Ship ought to have sent a stream Cable to the Ship a stern of her to have made an hawser fast to the Cable, About 20 fathoms in the water & to have passed the opposite side to that intended as a spring this was not Generally executed.

  Orders were then given to let go another Bowr Anchor, & the broadsides of the ships were brought to bear on the Enemy having the Ships heads SE from the Island of Bequier forming a line of about 1300 fathoms NW and SE distant from Each other 80 fathoms and in the Position marked Plan 1st each with an anchor out SSE. At ¼ past I saw one of the Enemy’s ships that were steering to get to windward of the headmost of the Line, Ran on the reef ENE of the Island She had immediate Assistance from the Brig and got afloat in the morning. The battery on the Island open’d a Fire on the Enemy & their Shells fell ahead of th 2nd Ship in the Line. – At ½ past 5 the head-most ships of our line being within Gun-shot of the English, the Adml made the signal to Engage, which was not obey’d till the Enemy was within Pistol Shot, and just doubling of us, the action then became very warm. The Conquerant began to fire, then Le Guerrier, L’ Spartiate, L’Aquilon, Le Peuple Souverain, Le Franklin. At 6 O’clock, La Serieuse Frigate & L’Hercule Bomb cut their Cables & got under weigh to avoid the Enemy’s fire they got on shore.