The Years of Endurance

by Arthur Bryant

  Already in England men who knew nothing of the circumstances were saying that he should be. The news of his appointment had been greeted with a clamour of tongues: Collingwood wrote from Cadiz that the resignation of two senior Admirals, furious at being passed over, had interrupted all intercourse of friendship in St. Vincent's fleet, which was in consequence in a most unpleasant state.1 Their friends and many others naturally said that Nelson had blundered. A man not yet forty was not fit to command a fleet on so important a service. Tempers were short in England in the summer of 1798: the long suspense of the spring and the reaction when no invasion came were beginning to fray men's nerves. The Irish rebellion, suppressed after four anxious weeks by Lake's victory at Vinegar Hill, was still simmering. It was known that Bonaparte was at large and that Nelson had failed to find him. He might by now be in Naples or he might be sailing towards Ireland. All that was certain was that Nelson had missed him: had bungled his mission. There were demands for his recall and for the resignation of the Ministers who had appointed him.

  On July 19th, with his water nearly exhausted, Nelson reached Syracuse, having in Ins own words gone a round of six hundred leagues with an expedition incredible and being at the end of it as ignorant of the enemy's situation as at the beginning. " The Devil's 1 Collingwood, 70. See Farington, I, 236, 244.

  children," he wrote, " have the Devil's luck! " His only thought was to be off again. He suffered agonies when the governor of the port, standing on his neutrality, refused to admit more than four ships at a time for revictualling. " Our treatment is scandalous for a great nation to put up with," he wrote to Lady Hamilton, " and

  the King's flag is insulted If we are to be kicked in every port of

  the Sicilian dominions, the sooner we are gone the better.... I have only to pray I may find the French and throw all my vengeance on them." 1

  But when the tactful offices of the Hamiltons at the Neapolitan Court had secured an open welcome and ample supplies for the fleet, the essential magnanimity of the man returned. He reproached nobody but himself. " Your Lordship," he wrote to St. Vincent, " deprived yourself of frigates to make mine the first squadron in the world. . . . But if they are above water, I will find them out and if possible bring them to battle. You have done your part in giving me so fine a fleet, and I hope to do mine in making use of them."2

  On the 25th he was ready for sea. Disregarding the protests of the Neapolitan Prime Minister, who wished him to stand sentinel over the Sicilies, he sailed again, this time—since all intelligence showed that the French were not to the west of him—towards the Morea. With all canvas spread the great ships sped on their search —Culloden, Theseus, Alexander and Swiftsure; Vanguard, Minotaur, Defence, Audacious, Zealous; Orion, Goliath, Majestic, Bellerophon. The sea was empty, for their journeying had filled the French authorities in every port of southern Europe with dread.3 They sailed in order of battle, in three compact divisions in case the French should be encountered at sea: two to tackle Brueys' battle fleet and the other to do the work of the missing frigates and destroy the transports.

  Every day throughout the long chase the men were exercised at their guns and small arms. Whenever the weather permitted the captains went aboard the Vanguard to discuss with the Admiral the precise function which each was to fulfil in battle. In the

  1 Mahan, Nelson, I, 340-1.

  2 Mahan, Nelson, I, 341.

  3 A convoy of twenty-six large supply ships, urgently needed by Bonaparte, lay in Toulon harbour all the summer for fear of Nelson.—Mahan, Sea Power, I, 291.

  " school for captains" on Nelson's quarter-deck they unconsciously entered into his mind till each of his ideas—lucid, precise and devised against every eventuality—became as natural to them as to him. Long linked by the comradeship of sea and service, these rough, weather-beaten men, with their wonderful professional skill, were distilled into a single instinctive instrument of war in the alembic of Nelson's mind and spirit. They became what in his love he called them—a band of brothers.

  The keynote of the fleet's readiness for battle was a minute imaginative attention to detail: the sure hall-mark of a great leader. " No man," Mahan has written, " was ever better served than Nelson by the inspiration of the hour; no man ever counted less on it." Every ship was ready day and night for action: every man schooled in an exact part. Five thousand wills and bodies moved to a single purpose infinitely diversified in individual function. It was a living discipline that wasted nothing: of muscle, mind or matter. Everything was prepared because everything was foreseen. Thus in the Alexander Captain Ball had every spare shroud and sail constantly soaked in water and rolled tight into hard non-inflammable cylinders.

  On the 28th, three days after leaving Syracuse, Nelson obtained news of the French from some Greek fishermen in the Gulf of Koron. A month before a great fleet had been seen spread far over the seas sailing south-eastwards from Crete. With the wind in the west for the past month it was evidence enough. Bonaparte must have gone to Egypt after all. Once more all sail was set for Alexandria.

  A little before noon on August ist, 1798, the Pharos of Alexandria became visible and soon after the minarets of the city and the masts of merchantmen in the port. But of the French fleet there was no sign. Sending the Swiftsure and Alexander in to investigate more closely, Nelson sadly turned eastwards along the coast as he had done a month before. Dinner was a meal of gloom on every ship. " I do not recollect," wrote Captain Saumarez of the Orion, " ever to have felt so utterly hopeless as when we sat down. Judge what a change took place when, as the cloth was being removed, the officer of the watch came rurming in saying, ' Sir, a signal is just now made that the enemy is in Aboukir Bay and moored in a line of battle.' In an instant every one was on his feet and every

  glass charged. As Saumarez came out of his cabin on to the quarterdeck, the crew broke into exultant cheers.

  At the masthead of the Goliath, leading the fleet with the Zealous, the straining eyes of Midshipman Elliot scanning the low Egyptian shore in the hot haze had caught the first sight of those heavenly masts. Fearing to hail the quarter-deck, lest keen ears in Zealous should hear and gain the credit, the exultant boy slid quickly down a backstay and ran to Captain Foley with his tidings. But before the fluttering signal, " Enemy in sight," could reach the masthead, Zealous had guessed the meaning of the scurry and cluster of flags on the deck of her sister ship and had been before her. As the signal reached each crowded ship, a " wave of joy " ran through the fleet. Nelson, whose inflexible will had equalled Bonaparte's, had run his quarry to earth at last. " If we succeed," cried Berry, voicing his unspoken thought, " what will the world say?" "There is no if in the case," replied Nelson, " that we shall succeed is certain; who will live to tell the story is a very different question."

  Fifteen miles east of Alexandria the French battle fleet lay at anchor in a great bay guarded by shoals to eastward and by the batteries of Aboukir Castle at its western end. There were sixteen ships in all, thirteen of the line with the Orient, Brueys' giant flagship, in the centre of the line. They lay as close inshore as the sandbanks allowed, forming for nearly two miles a line of thousands of guns with 160 yards between each ship. At the head of the line, guarding it from approach from the west, lay Aboukir island crowned with mortars.

  At half-past two, about the same time as the English sighted their prey, the French look-outs saw the English sails. As his van was so strongly protected and as to attack his centre or rear his assailants would nave to face the concentrated fire of his whole line, Brueys felt convinced that there would be no battle that day. It was to his advantage that it should be postponed. His ships were bigger than the British and more heavily gunned, but many of his men were ashore, discipline was lax and the decks were cumbered with stores and booty. Only the most reckless of foes would be likely to attack him in so strong a position with equal or inferior force. By the time they could reach the bay and negotiate the sandbanks it would be almost dark. It would be insanity for them t
o attack at night. Brueys was, like most ordinary commanders, a static man and he imagined that he had to do with static men like himself.

  But the British squadron never paused. It came on out of the west with all sails set. For Nelson at his journey's end was as eager to do that for which he had come as Bonaparte had been to land and take possession of Egypt. His sufferings and anxiety were over at last. He viewed the obstacles, his flag-captain noted, with the eye of a seaman determined on attack. He saw the strength of the French centre where Brueys had concentrated his greatest ships, and of its rear where the next strongest were gathered. But he also saw the weakness of the van if he could bring his fleet round inside the island and pass between it and the leading ships. And though he had no chart of the shoals except a rough plan taken from a prize, " it instantly struck his eager and penetrating mind that where there was room for an enemy's ship to swing, there was room for one of his to anchor." 1

  It had always been Nelson's plan, discussed on innumerable occasions with his captains, should he find the enemy at anchor to throw the whole weight of his strength on a part of their line and crush it before the rest could come to their aid. Only by doing so could he win the annihilating victory which it was his purpose to achieve: the ding-dong battles of the past two centuries, in which every Englishman laid himself alongside a Frenchman and battered away till one side tired and drew off, could not give it him. There was only just time to work round the island and the shoals before night fell: three of his thirteen capital ships—the Swiftsure and Alexander reconnoitring Alexandria and the Culloden towing a prize —were some miles away and could not reach the scene of battle before darkness. There was no opportunity for consultation or elaborate signals; but there was no need for them. Every captain knew what was in his Admiral's mind- At five-thirty he flew the signal to form line of battle in order of sailing, and silently and imperceptibly without slackening their majestic advance the great ships slid into their appointed places. The Goliath, whose look-out midshipman had revenged himself on his rival in the Zealous by anticipating Nelson's signal while it was still fluttering to the masthead, took the lead. The flagship dropped back to the sixth place where the Admiral could exercise tactical control of the battle,

  1 Capt. Berry's account.—Nicolas, III, 50.

  seeing how his leading ships fared and using his position to vary the disposition of the remaining five.

  In the hour of suspense Nelson made two other orders. In order to guide the latecomers and avoid the danger of Briton firing on Briton, every ship was directed to hoist four lights at the mizen peak. And on reaching her allotted station she was to anchor by the stern instead of by the head and so place herself in immediate fighting posture. By this simple precaution the enemy was denied the opportunity of raking each British ship as her bows swung round into the wind.

  Having rounded the island and " hauled well round all dangers," the ships, avoiding the direct approach, shortened sail and hugging the coast worked their way to windward of the van—the weakest, because in his belief the securest, part of Brueys’ position. The sun was just setting—" and a red and fiery sun it was "—as they went into the bay. Down below the men were stripping to their trousers, opening the ports and clearing for action: an officer commanding at the guns jotted down the following conversation:

  Jack: " There are thirteen sail of the line, and a whacking lot of frigates and small craft. I think we'll hammer the rust off ten of them, if not the whole boiling."

  Tom: " We took but four on the first of June, and I got seven pounds of prize-money. Now, if we knock up a dozen of these fellows (and why shouldn't we?) d—n my eyes, messmates, we will have a bread-bag full of money to receive."

  Jack: " Aye, I'm glad we have twigged 'em at last. I want some new rigging d-bly for Sundays and mustering days."

  Tom: " So do I. I hope we'll touch enough for that, and a d—d good cruise among the girls besides." 1

  It had been Nelson's plan to anchor one of his ships alternately on the bow and quarter of each of the leading Frenchmen. But whether by an eleventh-hour suggestion of the Admiral or by his own inspiration Captain Foley of the Goliath, who was the only officer in the fleet with a French chart, rounded the head of the enemy lines and, sounding as he went through the shallow waters, attacked it from the shoreward side. It was a feat of superb seamanship.

  1 Long, 201.

  Relying on the proximity of the sandbanks the French had never conceived such a thing possible and, feeling themselves safe, had not even taken the trouble to clear the port batteries, which were carelessly cluttered up with stores. Zealous, Orion, Theseus and Audacious followed Goliath. As each leviathan swept past the undefended flank of the leading French ships she swept them in turn with a fire that left them helpless and broken. Within ten minutes all the Guerrier’s masts were gone, and within ten minutes more the Conqiierant’s and Spartiates.

  Meanwhile Nelson led the Vanguard and the remaining ships against the other side of the French line. By seven o'clock, within half an hour of the commencement of the action, the five leading seventy-fours were being raked by eight English ships of similar size and greatly superior to them in gunnery while their consorts to leeward watched helpless and inactive. Two British ships, the Majestic and Bellerophon, over-shooting their mark in the growing darkness, engaged the French centre, the first losing her captain in a swift interchange of broadsides with the Heureuse and then passing on to engage the Mercure, while the second audaciously placed herself alongside Brueys' flagship, Orient—a vessel of nearly twice her size.

  Wrought to the highest tension by their long, tenacious pursuit, the British fought, as Berry put it, with an ardour and vigour impossible to describe. The French also fought with great gallantry. Captain Dupetit Thouars of the Tonnant, after losing both arms and a leg, had his dying trunk placed in a tub on the quarter-deck where he refused to strike his colours though every mast was gone and every gun disabled. But the British were fighting with the certain conviction of victory and, every man knowing what to do in all emergencies, with an order and freedom from confusion absent in the Republican ships. Early in the engagement, when the issue was already a foregone conclusion, Nelson was struck on the forehead by a piece of flying iron from the Spartiates langridge. Flung to the deck and blinded by the strip of bleeding flesh that fell over his solitary eye, he was carried below thinking himself a dying man. Here in the crowded cockpit he lay in intense pain, insisting on taking his turn at the surgeon with the other wounded men and constantly calling with what he believed to be his dying breath for news of the battle. Once he bade Berry hail the Minotaur, anchored ahead of the Vanguard, that he might thank Captain Louis for his conduct before he died. Already three enemy ships had struck and three more were disabled, and with his brain wandering a little he endeavoured to dictate a dispatch to the Admiralty. His secretary was too overwrought to write, so the blinded man took the pen himself and with trembling hand traced the words: "Almighty God has blessed His Majesty's arms . . ."

  By now the British reserve was entering the fight. The Culloden, the finest ship in the fleet, had met with disaster, her brave Captain Troubridge, in his anxiety to arrive in time, having taken the island too close and struck on the tail of the shoal. Here he remained all night in full view of the battle and in a state of agitation impossible to conceive, suffering the pounding of the sea and struggling to clear his vessel. But he served as a beacon for the Swiftsure and Alexander hurrying up from the west. The two great ships, furiously fired at by the battery on the island, rounded the reef safely in the haze and darkness and swept down on the centre of the French line, guided by the flashes of the guns and the lanterns gleaming through the British gun ports. In both vessels absolute silence was preserved, no sound being heard but the helmsman's orders and the shout of the leadsman calling the depths.

  At one moment a dark shape loomed up in front of the Swiftsure. It was the Bellerophon, dismasted after her duel with the Orient, drifting out of the fig
ht with a third of her crew dead or disabled. Only Captain Hallowell's flawless discipline prevented her from being swept by the Swiftsure’s guns before her identity was revealed. But, despite the suspense and the spasmodic fire of the French, not a shot was fired. At 8.03 p.m. precisely the Swiftsure dropped into the Bellerophon s vacant berth two hundred yards from the French flagship. At 8.05, anchored and with her sails clewed up, she opened out with a tremendous broadside. A few minutes later Captain Ball in the Alexander followed suit.

  It was about nine o'clock that Hallowell, still fresh to the fight,, noticed flames pouring out of one of the cabins of the Orient. He at once directed every available gun on the spot. The fire spread quickly owing to the way that oil, paint and other combustibles had been left about the French flagship. As the great vessel, the finest in the Republican navy, blazed more fiercely, every British ship in the neighbourhood trained her guns on her. Down in the hold of the British flagship Nelson heard of the impending fatality and insisted on being led up on deck to watch: as soon as he saw her imminence of doom he ordered the Vanguard's only undamaged boat to be lowered to rescue the survivors. With the fire racing downwards towards the Orient's magazine, the ships about her closed their hatches or drifted away to avoid the explosion. Only Swiftsure and Alexander remained firing grimly up to the last moment, with long lines of men with buckets stationed to extinguish the outburst when it came.