This severe check, occurring at so critical a moment,—more critical even than Nelson knew, for he remained ignorant of the French sailing for some days longer,—was in itself disheartening, and fell upon one whose native eagerness chafed painfully against enforced inaction and delay. His manner of bearing it illustrated both the religious characteristics, which the experience of grave emergencies tends to develop and strengthen in men of action, and the firmness of a really great man, never more signally displayed than under the pressure of calamity and suspense, such as he continually had to undergo. The exceptional brilliancy and decisiveness of his greater battles—the Nile, Copenhagen, and Trafalgar—obscure the fact that each of them was preceded by a weary period of strenuous uphill work, a steady hewing of his way through a tanglewood of obstacles, a patient endurance of disappointments, a display of sustained, undaunted resolution under discouragements, nobler far than even the moments of triumphant action, into which at last he joyfully emerges and freely exerts his extraordinary powers. "I trust," he wrote to St. Vincent, "my friends will think I bore my chastisement like a man. I hope it has made me a better officer, as I believe it has made me a better man. On the Sunday evening I thought myself in every respect one of the most fortunate men, to command such a squadron in such a place, and my pride was too great for man." To his wife he wrote in the same strain: "I ought not to call what has happened to the Vanguard by the cold name of accident; I believe firmly that it was the Almighty's goodness, to check my consummate vanity."

Vanity was rather a hard name to call the natural elation of a young admiral, intrusted with an unusually important service, and proud of his command; but the providential interposition worked directly to his advantage. The delays caused by the repairs to the "Vanguard," and by the subsequent necessity of seeking the separated frigates at the rendezvous appointed for such a case, made possible the junction of Troubridge, of whose approach Nelson was totally ignorant. On the 2d of June Sir James Saumarez mentions speaking a ship, which a few days before had seen eleven sail-of-the-line, supposed to be English. "We are at a loss what conjectures to put on this intelligence." Five days before this, May 28, a vessel out of Marseilles had informed them of Bonaparte's sailing with all his transports. Nelson would doubtless have pursued them at once, in conformity with his instructions to ascertain the enemy's objects; but for such operations, essentially those of a scouting expedition, the frigates were too necessary to be left behind. On the 4th of June he reached the rendezvous, and, not finding the frigates, waited. The next morning, by the arrival of the "Mutine," he learned that he was to expect the reinforcement, which converted his division into a fleet, and enlarged his mission from one of mere reconnoissance to the duty of overtaking and destroying a great maritime expedition.

Besides this good news, the "Mutine" brought word of another misfortune, more irretrievable than the loss of spars. She had fallen in with the frigates three days before, and the senior captain had told Hardy that he was going with them to Gibraltar, persuaded that the condition of the flagship, which he had seen, would necessitate her return to an arsenal for repairs. "I thought Hope would have known me better," commented Nelson, when he became aware of a step which materially affected, in fact probably entirely changed, the course of events, and most seriously embarrassed all his subsequent movements. This untimely and precipitate action, and his remark, illustrate conspicuously the differences between men, and exemplify the peculiar energy and unrelaxing forward impulse which eminently fitted Nelson for his present high charge.

The inconvenience and danger arising from the frigates' departure was instantly felt. "Nothing," wrote Saumarez, "can equal our anxiety to fall in with the reinforcement. Our squadron has been, these two days, detached in all directions, without falling in with them; and there is strong reason to fear they think us returned to Gibraltar"—from Hope's reports. Such were the risks springing from misplaced caution, more ruinous than the most daring venture, and which from beginning to end well-nigh wrecked the great attempt upon which the Admiralty, St. Vincent, and Nelson had staked so much. In further consequence, the line-of-battle ships became separated by stretching too far apart in their anxious care to find Troubridge, and when he joined the "Vanguard," on the 7th, the "Orion" and "Alexander" were not in sight. The French having so long a start, and there being now with him eleven seventy-fours, Nelson with characteristic promptness would not delay an instant. The fifty-gun ship "Leander," which had come with Troubridge, was directed to wait forty-eight hours for the two absentees, with a memorandum of the course about to be followed. Confident that single ships would be able to overtake a squadron whose route they knew, the admiral at once pushed on for Cape Corso, the north point of Corsica, intending to pass between the island and Italy, seeking information as he went. The "Mutine" was all he had to replace the missing frigates.

June 7th thus marks the beginning of a chase, which ended only upon the 1st of August in the Battle of the Nile. During this miserable period of suspense and embarrassment, occasioned and prolonged beyond all reason or necessity by the want of lookout ships, the connecting and illuminating thread is the purpose of Nelson, at once clear and firm, to find the French fleet and to fight it the instant found. No other consideration draws his mind aside, except so far as it may facilitate the attainment and fulfilment of this one object. In this one light he sees all things. At the start he writes to St. Vincent: "You may be assured I will fight them the moment I can reach, be they at anchor or under sail." Three days later, he tells Sir William Hamilton: "If their fleet is not moored in as strong a port as Toulon, nothing shall hinder me from attacking them." "Be they bound to the Antipodes," he says to Earl Spencer, "your Lordship may rely that I will not lose a moment in bringing them to action, and endeavour to destroy their transports." Such expressions are repeated with a frequency which proves the absolute hold the resolution had upon his mind. When obstacles occur to him, or are mentioned, they do not make room for the thought of not fighting to be entertained; only Toulon suggests the idea of impossibility. He raises difficulties diligently enough, but it is only that they may be the better overcome, not that they may deter. All possible conditions are considered and discussed, but simply in order that the best fighting solution may be reached. The constant mental attitude is such that the man is unprepared to recede before any opposition; he fortifies his mind beforehand with the best means of meeting and vanquishing it, but the attempt at least shall be made. "Thank God," he wrote at this moment, "I do not feel difficulties;" yet the avowal itself accompanies so plain a statement of his embarrassments as to show that his meaning is that they do not discourage. This characteristic appeared most strongly at Copenhagen, partly because the difficulties there were greatest, partly from the close contrast with a man of very different temper.

Being entirely without intelligence as to the real object of the French, there was nothing to do but to follow upon their track, with eyes open for indications. They were known to have gone southerly, towards Naples and Sicily; and these two points, parts of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, had been mentioned by Jervis as probable destinations. The "Orion" and "Alexander" rejoined in two or three days, and on the 14th of June information, second-hand but probable, was obtained that on the 4th the French armament had been seen off the west end of Sicily, steering to the eastward. "If they pass Sicily," said Nelson in his letter to Spencer written the next day, "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." Troubridge was now sent ahead in the "Mutine" to communicate with Sir William Hamilton, the British minister at Naples, and with Acton, the prime minister of that Kingdom. He took with him letters from the admiral, who wished to know what co-operation he might hope from the Court of Naples, in the matters of supplies, of frigates to act as lookouts, and of pilots for Sicilian waters.

On the 17th the squadron hove-to ten miles off Naples, and Troubridge rejoined. The Neapolitan Government sent assurances of good wishes, and of hatred to the French; supplies would be given under the rose, and Acton sent a written order to that effect, addressed to the governors of ports in the name of the King. Naples being at peace with France, assistance with ships could not be given, nor, to use the words of Nelson, "the smallest information of what was, or was likely to be, the future destination of the French armament. With this comfortable account I pushed for the Faro of Messina." Troubridge brought word, however, that the French fleet was off Malta, about to attack it, which served to give direction for the squadron's next move.

After leaving Naples Nelson wrote strong and clear letters to Sir William Hamilton upon the existing conditions. Why should Naples stand in shivering hesitation about taking a decided step in support of Great Britain? She had looked and prayed for the arrival of the fleet, as the one force competent to check the designs of the French. Sicily could be approached only by water, and the distance of Naples from Northern Italy rendered the control of the sea most advantageous, if not absolutely essential, to a French army attempting to hold the boot of the peninsula. Now the British fleet had come, in force adequate to neutralize the French Navy, and, in Nelson's belief, to defeat and destroy it, if properly supported. Did Naples expect to escape by a timid adherence to half measures, when by her notorious preference for the British she had already gained the ill-will of the French? "The French know as well as you and I do, that their Sicilian Majesties called for our help to save them—even this is crime enough with the French." Safety—true safety—could be had only by strenuous and decisive action in support of Nelson's squadron. Did not the attack on Malta indicate a design upon Sicily? "Were I commanding a fleet attending an army which is to invade Sicily, I should say to the general, 'If you can take Malta, it secures the safety of your fleet, transports, stores, &c., and insures your safe retreat [from Sicily] should that be necessary; for if even a superior fleet of the enemy should arrive, before one week passes, they will be blown to leeward, and you may pass with safety.' This would be my opinion.... I repeat it, Malta is the direct road to Sicily." If the French are overtaken, he continues, and found in some anchorage, it can scarcely be so strong but that I can get at them, but there will be needed things which I have not, fire-ships, bomb-vessels, and gunboats, when one hour would either destroy or drive them out. Without such aid, the British may be crippled in their attempt, and forced to leave the Mediterranean. In case of blockade—or necessity to remain for any reason—the fleet must have supplies; which only Naples can furnish. Failing these it must retire, and then Sicily and Naples are lost. Since, then, so much assistance must be given in time, why postpone now, when one strong blow would give instant safety? Why should not his own motto, "I will not lose a moment in attacking them," apply as well to the policy of an endangered kingdom as of a British admiral?

If this reasoning and advice took more account of the exigencies of the British arms than of the difficulties of a weak state of the second order, dependent for action upon the support of other nations, they were at least perfectly consonant to the principles and practice of the writer, wherever he himself had to act. But Nelson could not expect his own spirit in the King of the Two Sicilies. Even if the course suggested were the best for Naples under the conditions, it is the property of ordinary men, in times of danger, to see difficulties more clearly than advantages, and to shrink from steps which involve risk, however promising of success. The Neapolitan Government, though cheered by the appearance of the British fleet, had to consider danger also on the land side, where it relied upon the protection of Austria, instead of trusting manfully to its own arms and the advantages of its position, remote from the centre of French power. Austria had pledged herself to support Naples, if invaded without just cause; but it was not certain that she would interfere if the cause of attack was the premature admission of British ships into the ports of the kingdom, beyond the number specified in the still recent treaties with France. The Emperor was meditating war, in which he expected to assist Naples and to be assisted by her; but he did not choose to be hurried, and might refuse aid if an outbreak were precipitated.

Actually, what Naples did mattered little. Under some contingencies, such as Nelson was contemplating when he wrote his letter, it might have mattered much whether he received the abundant support of small armed vessels which he indicated; but in the end supplies only were required, and those he had orders from Jervis to exact at the mouth of his cannon from all powers,—friends or neutrals,—Sardinia only excepted. The fleet passed the Straits of Messina on the 20th of June, and continued south, keeping close to the Sicilian shore in hope of information, until the 22d, when it was off Cape Passaro, the southeastern extremity of the island. There a Genoese brig was spoken, which had left Malta the previous day. From her Nelson learned that Malta had surrendered to the French on the 15th, a week before, which was correct; but the information further stated, that, after landing a garrison, the expedition had sailed again on the 16th—it was thought for Sicily. This last news was untrue, whether by intention or not, for Bonaparte remained in Malta till the 19th; but upon it Nelson had to act. Had he seen the captain of the stranger himself, he might have found out more, for he was a shrewd questioner, and his intellect was sharpened by anxiety, and by constant dwelling upon the elements of the intricate problem before him; but the vessel had been boarded by the "Mutine," three hours before, and was now beyond recall.

At this season the winds in the Mediterranean prevail from the westward; therefore, with the six days' start the enemy was believed now to have, no time could be lost. Six days sufficed to carry the British squadron from its present position to Alexandria, which Nelson was already inclined to think the destination of the French. Yet, being dependent upon a wind then practically constant in direction, it would not do to yield a mile of ground, except upon a mature, if rapid, deliberation. Nelson's own mind was, by constant preoccupation, familiar beforehand with the bearings of the different conditions of any situation likely to occur, and with the probable inferences to be drawn; his opinions were, so to say, in a constant state of formation and development, ready for instantaneous application to any emergency as it arose. But he had, besides, exercised the same habit in the captains of the ships, by the practice of summoning them on board the flagship, singly or in groups; the slow movement of sailing vessels, particularly in the light summer weather of the Mediterranean, permitting such intercourse without materially affecting the progress of the fleet. Invitations or commands so to visit the flagship were common. "I have passed the day on board the Vanguard," notes Saumarez on one occasion, "having breakfasted and stayed to dinner with the admiral." "It was his practice during the whole of his cruize," wrote Berry, the flag-captain, "whenever the weather and circumstances would permit, to have his captains on board the Vanguard, where he would fully develop to them his own ideas of the different and best modes of attack, in all possible positions." That such conversations were not confined to tactical questions, but extended to what would now be called the strategy of the situation, is evident from allusions by Saumarez to the various surmises concerning the probable movements of the enemy. Nelson never yielded a particle of his responsibility, nor of his credit, but it is clear that such discussion would not only broaden his own outlook, but prepare his subordinates to give readier and sounder views upon any new conjuncture that might arise.

He now summoned on board four captains "in whom I place great confidence," Saumarez, Troubridge,—the two seniors,—Ball, and Darby, stated the case, and received their opinions. These seem to have been given in writing,[60] and from his letter to St. Vincent the results of the conference, as shown by his decision, may be summarized as follows. With the existing winds, it would be impossible for such a fleet as the enemy's to get to the westward. Had they aimed at Sicily, an object concerning which explicit disclaimers had been given by the French to the Neapolitan Government, some indication of their approach must have been known at Syracuse, the day before, when the British were off that city. Consequently, the expedition must have gone to the eastward. The size and nature of the armament must also be considered,—forty thousand troops, a dozen ships-of-the-line, besides a staff of scientific men,—all pointed to a great, distant, and permanent occupation. The object might be Corfu, or to overthrow the existing government of Turkey, or to settle a colony in Egypt. As between these, all equally possible, the last was the most direct and greatest menace to present British interests, and should determine his course. "If they have concerted a plan with Tippoo Saib, to have vessels at Suez, three weeks, at this season, is a common passage to the Malabar coast, where our India possessions would be in great danger."

Such was the conclusion—how momentous at the moment can only be realized by those who will be at the pains to consider a man still young, with reputation brilliant indeed, but not established; intrusted with a great chance, it is true, but also with a great responsibility, upon which rested all his future. On slight, though decisive, preponderance of evidence, he was about to risk throwing away an advantage a seaman must appreciate, that of being to windward of his enemy,—able to get at him,—the strategist's position of command. The tongues of envy and censure might well be—we now know that they were—busy in inquiring why so young an admiral had so high charge, and in sneering at his failure to find the enemy. "Knowing my attachment to you," wrote his old friend, Admiral Goodall, alongside whom he had fought under Hotham, "how often have I been questioned: 'What is your favourite hero about? The French fleet has passed under his nose,' &c., &c." Nelson was saved from fatal hesitation, primarily, by his singleness of purpose, which looked first to his country's service, to the thorough doing of the work given him to do, and only afterwards to the consequences of failure to his own fame and fortunes. At that moment the choice before him was either to follow out an indication, slight, but as far as it went clear, which, though confessedly precarious, promised to lead to a great and decisive result, such as he had lately urged upon the King of Naples; or to remain where he was, in an inglorious security, perfectly content, to use words of his own, that "each day passed without loss to our side." To the latter conclusion might very well have contributed the knowledge, that the interests which the Cabinet thought threatened were certainly for the present safe. Broadly as his instructions were drawn, no word of Egypt or the East was specifically in them. Naples, Sicily, Portugal, or Ireland, such were the dangers intimated by Spencer and St. Vincent in their letters, and he was distinctly cautioned against letting the enemy get to the westward of him. He might have consoled himself for indecisive action, which procrastinated disaster and covered failure with the veil of nullity, as did a former commander of his in a gazetted letter, by the reflection that, so far as the anticipations of the ministry went, the designs of the enemy were for the time frustrated, by the presence of his squadron between them and the points indicated to him.

But the single eye of principle gained keener insight in this case by the practised habit of reflection, which came prepared, to the full extent of an acute intellect, to detect every glimmer of light, and to follow them to the point where they converged upon the true solution; and both principle and reflection were powerfully supported in their final action by a native temperament, impatient of hesitations, of half measures, certain that the annihilation of the French fleet, and nothing short of its annihilation, fulfilled that security of his country's interests in which consisted the spirit of his instructions. His own words in self-defence, when for a moment it seemed as if, after all, he had blundered in the great risk he took, though rough in form, rise to the eloquence that speaks out of the abundance of the heart. "The only objection I can fancy to be started is,'you should not have gone such a long voyage without more certain information of the enemy's destination:' my answer is ready—who was I to get it from? The governments of Naples and Sicily either knew not, or chose to keep me in ignorance. Was I to wait patiently till I heard certain accounts? If Egypt was their object, before I could hear of them they would have been in India. To do nothing, I felt, was disgraceful; therefore I made use of my understanding, and by it I ought to stand or fall."

The destination of the enemy had been rightly divined, following out a course of reasoning outlined by Nelson a week before in his letter to Spencer; but successful pursuit was baffled for the moment by the wiliness of Bonaparte, who directed his vast armament to be steered for the south shore of Candia, instead of straight for Alexandria. Even this would scarcely have saved him, had Nelson's frigates been with the fleet. Immediately after the council, the admiral with his customary promptitude kept away for Egypt under all sail. "I am just returned from on board the Admiral," writes Saumarez, "and we are crowding sail for Alexandria; but the contrast to what we experienced yesterday is great indeed, having made sure of attacking them this morning. At present it is very doubtful whether we shall fall in with them at all, as we are proceeding upon the merest conjecture only, and not on any positive information. Some days must now elapse before we can be relieved from our cruel suspense; and if, at the end of our journey, we find we are upon a wrong scent, our embarrassment will be great indeed. Fortunately, I only act here en second; but did the chief responsibility rest with me, I fear it would be more than my too irritable nerves would bear." Such was the contemporary estimate of an eye-witness, an officer of tried and singular gallantry and ability, who shared the admiral's perplexities and ambitions, though not his responsibility. His words portray justly the immensity of the burden Nelson bore. That, indeed, is the inevitable penalty of command; but it must be conceded that, when adequately borne, it should convey also an equal measure of renown.

In the morning, before the consultation with the captains, three French frigates had been seen; but Nelson, warned by the parting of the "Orion" and "Alexander" a fortnight before, would not run the risk of scattering the squadron by chasing them. No time could now be lost, waiting for a separated ship to catch up. The circumstance of the fleet being seen by these frigates was quoted in a letter from Louis Bonaparte, who was with the expedition, to his brother Joseph, and was made the ground for comment upon the stupidity of the British admiral, who with this opportunity failed to find the armament. The criticism is unjust; had the frigates taken to flight, as of course they would, the British fleet, if not divided, would certainly not be led towards the main body of the enemy. Concentration of purpose, singleness of aim, was more than ever necessary, now that time pressed and a decision had been reached; but the sneer of the French officer reproduces the idle chatter of the day in London streets and drawing-rooms. These, in turn, but echoed and swelled the murmurs of insubordination and envy in the navy itself, at the departure from the routine methods of officialism, by passing over the claims of undistinguished seniors, in favor of one who as yet had nothing but brilliant achievement, and yet more brilliant promise, to justify committing to him the most momentous charge that in this war had devolved on a British admiral. A letter from one of the puisne lords of the Admiralty was read publicly on board the "Prince George," flagship of Sir William Parker,—the same who had the controversy with Nelson about the Battle of St. Vincent,—denouncing Lord St. Vincent in no very gentle terms for having sent so young a flag-officer.[61] "Sir William Parker and Sir John Orde have written strong remonstrances against your commanding the detached squadron instead of them," wrote St. Vincent to Nelson. "I did all I could to prevent it, consistently with my situation, but there is a faction, fraught with all manner of ill-will to you, that, unfortunately for the two Baronets, domined over any argument or influence I could use: they will both be ordered home the moment their letters arrive." It will be seen how much was at stake for Nelson personally in the issue of these weeks. Happy the man who, like him, has in such a case the clear light of duty to keep his steps from wavering!

The night after Nelson made sail for Alexandria the two hostile bodies crossed the same tract of sea, on divergent courses; but a haze covered the face of the deep, and hid them from each other. When the day dawned, they were no longer within range of sight; but had the horizon of the British fleet been enlarged by flanking frigates, chasing on either side, the immunity of the French from detection could scarcely have continued. For some days not a hundred miles intervened between these two foes, proceeding for the same port. On the 26th, being two hundred and fifty miles from Alexandria, Nelson sent the "Mutine" ahead to communicate with the place and get information; a single vessel being able to outstrip the progress of a body of ships, which is bound to the speed of its slowest member. On the 28th the squadron itself was off the town, when the admiral to his dismay found that not only the French had not appeared, but that no certain news of their destination was to be had.

Preoccupied as his mind had been with the fear that the enemy had so far the start that their army would be out of the transports before he overtook them, the idea that he might outstrip them does not seem to have entered his head. Only three vessels had been spoken since Sicily was left behind,—two from Alexandria and one from the Archipelago; but these knew nothing of the French, being doubtless, when met, ahead of the latter's advance. That Nelson again consulted with his captains seems probable—indeed almost certain, from casual mention; but if so, their opinion as to the future course does not appear. The unremitting eagerness of his temperament, the singleness of his purpose, which saw the whole situation concentrated in the French fleet, had worked together up to the present to bring him to the true strategic point just ahead of time; although, by no fault of his own, he had started near three weeks late.[62] These two high qualities now conspired to mislead him by their own excess. "His active and anxious mind," wrote Captain Berry, "would not permit him to rest a moment in the same place; he therefore shaped his course to the northward, for the coast of Caramania [in Asia Minor], to reach as quickly as possible some quarter where information could probably be obtained."

To say that this was a mistake is perhaps to be wise only after the event. Had Nelson known that the French, when leaving Malta, had but three days' start of him, instead of six, as the Genoese had reported, he might have suspected the truth; it is not wonderful that he failed to believe that he could have gained six days. The actual gain was but three; for, departing practically at the same time from points equidistant from Alexandria, Bonaparte's armament appeared before that place on the third day after Nelson arrived. The troops were landed immediately, and the transports entered the port, thus making secure their escape from the British pursuit. The ships of war remained outside.

Meanwhile Nelson, "distressed for the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies," was beating back to the westward against the wind which had carried him rapidly to the coast of Egypt. Rightly or wrongly, he had not chosen to wait at the point which mature reflection had indicated to him as the enemy's goal, and the best course that now occurred to him was to do with his fleet the exploring duty that frigates should have done. "No frigates," he wrote to Sir William Hamilton; "to which has been, and may again, be attributed the loss of the French fleet." On his return he kept along the northern shore of the Mediterranean, passing near Candia; but, though several vessels were spoken, he only gathered from them that the French were not west of Sicily, nor at Corfu. On the 19th of July, he anchored the fleet at Syracuse, having, to use his own words, "gone a round of six hundred leagues with an expedition incredible," and yet "as ignorant of the situation of the enemy as I was twenty-seven days ago."

At Syracuse fresh disappointments awaited him, which only the indomitable single-mindedness and perseverance of the man prevented from becoming discouragements. The minister at Naples had sent despatches to await him at Cape Passaro; when he sent for these, thirsty for news about the French, they had been returned to Naples. The governor of the port, despite Acton's assurances to Troubridge, made difficulties about the admission of so many ships, and about supplying water, which they absolutely required. This Nelson resented, with angry contempt for the halting policy of the weak kingdom. "I have had so much said about the King of Naples' orders only to admit three or four of the ships of our fleet into his ports, that I am astonished. I understood that private orders, at least, would have been given for our free admission. If we are to be refused supplies, pray send me by many vessels an account, that I may in good time take the King's fleet to Gibraltar. Our treatment is scandalous for a great nation to put up with, and the King's flag is insulted at every friendly port we look at." "I wish to know your and Sir William's plans for going down the Mediterranean," he wrote to Lady Hamilton, "for, if we are to be kicked in every port of the Sicilian dominions, the sooner we are gone the better. Good God! how sensibly I feel our treatment. I have only to pray I may find the French and throw all my vengeance on them."

These words show the nervous exasperation superinduced by the tremendous strain of official anxiety and mortified ambition; for the governor's objections were purely formal and perfunctory, as was the Court's submission to the French. "Our present wants," he admitted at the same writing, "have been most amply supplied, and every attention has been paid us." Years afterwards Nelson spoke feelingly of the bitter mental anguish of that protracted and oft-thwarted pursuit. "Do not fret at anything," he told his friend Troubridge; "I wish I never had, but my return to Syracuse in 1798, broke my heart, which on any extraordinary anxiety now shows itself, be that feeling pain or pleasure." "On the 18th I had near died, with the swelling of some of the vessels of the heart. More people, perhaps, die of broken hearts than we are aware of." But the firmness of his purpose, the clearness of his convictions, remained unslackened and unclouded. "What a situation am I placed in!" he writes, when he finds Hamilton's despatches returned. "As yet I can learn nothing of the enemy. You will, I am sure, and so will our country, easily conceive what has passed in my anxious mind; but I have this comfort, that I have no fault to accuse myself of. This bears me up, and this only." "Every moment I have to regret the frigates having left me," he tells St. Vincent. "Your lordship deprived yourself of frigates to make mine certainly the first squadron in the world, and I feel that I have zeal and activity to do credit to your appointment, and yet to be unsuccessful hurts me most sensibly. 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."

In five days the squadron had filled with water and again sailed. Satisfied that the enemy were somewhere in the Levant, Nelson now intended a deliberate search for them—or rather for their fleet, the destruction of which was the crucial object of all his movements. "It has been said," he wrote to Hamilton, "that to leeward of the two frigates I saw off Cape Passaro was a line-of-battle ship, with the riches of Malta on board, but it was the destruction of the enemy, not riches for myself, that I was seeking. These would have fallen to me if I had had frigates, but except the ship-of-the-line, I regard not all the riches in this world." A plaintive remonstrance against his second departure was penned by the Neapolitan prime minister, which depicts so plainly the commonplace view of a military situation,—the apprehensions of one to whom immediate security is the great object in war,—that it justifies quotation, and comparison with the clear intuitions, and firmly grasped principle, which placed Nelson always, in desire, alongside the enemy's fleet, and twice carried him, at every risk, to the end of the Mediterranean to seek it. "We are now in danger of a war, directly on Admiral Nelson's account; you see fairly our position; will Admiral Nelson run to the Levant again without knowing for certain the position of the French, and leave the Two Sicilies exposed in these moments? Buonaparte has absconded himself, but in any port he has taken securitys not to be forced. God knows where he is, and whether we shall not see him again in a few days, if we do not hear of what a course he has taken. I present all this to your consideration." To this letter, which oddly enough was written on the very day the Battle of the Nile was fought, Nelson might well have replied then, as he did in terms a year afterwards, "The best defence for His Sicilian Majesty's dominions is to place myself alongside the French fleet."

The fleet left Syracuse on the 25th of July, just one week before the discovery of the enemy in Aboukir Bay put an end to Nelson's long suspense. The course was first shaped for the southern capes of the Morea, and on the 28th Troubridge was sent into the Gulf of Koron for information. He returned within three hours, with the news that the French had been seen four weeks before from the coast of Candia, and were then steering southeast. This intelligence was corroborated by a vessel spoken the same day. Southeast, being nearly dead before the prevailing wind, was an almost certain clew to the destination of an unwieldy body which could never regain ground lost to leeward; so, although Nelson now learned that some of his missing frigates had also been seen recently off Candia, he would waste no time looking for them. It may be mentioned that these frigates had appeared off the anchorage of the French fleet, and had been recognized by it as enemies; but, so far from taking warning from the incident, the French admiral was only confirmed by it in a blind belief that the British feared to attack. Immediately after Troubridge's return, the fleet bore up under all sail, and at 2.45 in the afternoon of the 1st of August, 1798, the masthead lookout of the "Zealous" discovered the long-sought-for enemy, lying in Aboukir Bay, on the coast of Egypt, fifteen miles east of Alexandria.

Suspense was ended, but Nelson's weightiest responsibility had yet to be met. The enemy was still so far distant that he could not be reached till near nightfall, and it was possible that not only would the battle be fought in the dark, but that some at least of the ships would not have daylight to take their positions. The consequent difficulty and risk was in any event great; but in this case the more so, because the ground was unknown to every officer in the fleet. The only chart of it in possession of the British was a rude sketch lately taken out of a prize. There was no time now for calling captains together, nor for forming plans of action. Then appeared conspicuously the value of that preparedness of mind, as well as of purpose, which at bottom was the greatest of Nelson's claims to credit. Much had been received by him from Nature,—gifts which, if she bestows them not, man struggles in vain to acquire by his own efforts; but the care which he took in fitting himself to use those gifts to their utmost capacity is his own glory. The author of the first full narrative of these eventful weeks, Captain Berry, than whom no man had larger occasion to observe Nelson's moods, used his capitals well when he wrote, "The admiral viewed the obstacles with the eye of a seaman DETERMINED ON ATTACK." It was not for him, face to face with opportunity, to hesitate and debate whether he would be justified in using it at once. But this preparation of purpose might have led only to a great disaster, had it not received guidance from a richly stored intellect, which had pondered probable conditions so exhaustively that proper direction could be at once imparted and at once understood. The French admiral, indeed, by his mistaken dispositions had delivered himself into the hands of his enemy; but that might not have availed had that enemy hesitated and given time, or had he not instantly comprehended the possibilities of the situation with a trained glance which had contemplated them long before. "By attacking the enemy's van and centre, the wind blowing directly along their line, I was enabled to throw what force I pleased on a few ships. This plan my friends readily conceived by the signals."[63]

It was, therefore, no fortuitous coincidence that the battle was fought on a plan preconcerted in general outline, though necessarily subject to particular variations in detail. Not only had many situations been discussed, as Berry tells us, but new signals had been inserted in the signal-book to enable the admiral's intentions to be quickly understood. To provide for the case of the enemy being met at sea, the force had been organized into three squadrons,—a subdivision of command which, while surrendering nothing of the admiral's initiative, much facilitated the application of his plans, by committing the execution of major details to the two senior captains, Saumarez and Troubridge, each wielding a group of four ships. Among the provisions for specific contingencies was one that evidently sprang from the report that the enemy's fleet numbered sixteen or seventeen of the line,—an impression which arose from there being in it four Venetian ships so rated, which were not, however, fit for a place in the line. In that case Nelson proposed to attack, ship for ship, the rear thirteen of the enemy. That he preferred, when possible, to throw two ships on one is evident enough—the approaching battle proves it; but when confronted with a force stronger, numerically, than his own, and under way, he provides what was certainly the better alternative. He engages at once the attention of as many ships as possible, confident that he brings against each a force superior to it, owing to the general greater efficiency of British ships over French of that date, and especially of those in his own squadron, called by St. Vincent the elite of the Navy.

The position of the French fleet, and the arrangements made by its commander, Admiral Brueys, must now be given, for they constitute the particular situation against which Nelson's general plan of attack was to be directed. Considering it impracticable for the ships-of-the-line to enter the port of Alexandria, Brueys had taken the fleet on the 8th of July to their present anchorage. Aboukir Bay begins at a promontory of the same name, and, after curving boldly south, extends eastward eighteen miles, terminating at the Rosetta mouth of the Nile. From the shore the depth increases very gradually, so that water enough for ships-of-the-line was not found till three miles from the coast. Two miles northeast of the promontory of Aboukir is Aboukir Island, since called Nelson's, linked with the point by a chain of rocks. Outside the island, similar rocks, with shoals, prolong this foul ground under water to seaward, constituting a reef dangerous to a stranger approaching the bay. This barrier, however, broke the waves from the northwest, and so made the western part of the bay a fairly convenient summer roadstead. The French fleet was anchored there, under the shelter of the island and rocks, in an order such that "the wind blew nearly along the line." Its situation offered no local protection against an enemy's approach, except that due to ignorance of the ground.

It was therefore Brueys's business to meet this defect of protection by adequate dispositions; and this he failed to do. Numerically his force was the same as Nelson's; but, while the latter had only seventy-fours, there were in the French fleet one ship of one hundred and twenty guns, and three eighties. In a military sense, every line divides naturally into three parts,—the centre, and the two ends, or flanks; and it is essential that these should so far support one another that an enemy cannot attack any two in superior force, while the third is unable to assist. Shallow water, such as was found in Aboukir Bay, if properly utilized, will prevent a flank being turned, so that an enemy can get on both sides of the ships there, or otherwise concentrate upon them, as by enfilading; and if, in addition, the ships are anchored close to each other, it becomes impossible for two of the attacking force to direct their fire upon one of the defence, without being exposed to reprisals from those next astern and ahead. These evident precautions received no illustration in the arrangements of Admiral Brueys. The general direction of his line was that of the wind, from northwest to southeast, with a very slight bend, as shown in the diagram. The leading—northwestern—ship was brought close to the shoal in thirty feet of water, but not so close as to prevent the British passing round her, turning that flank; and there were between the successive ships intervals of five hundred feet, through any one of which an enemy could readily pass. Brueys had very properly accumulated his most powerful vessels at the centre. The flagship "Orient," of one hundred and twenty guns, was seventh in the order; next ahead and astern of her were, respectively, the "Franklin" and the "Tonnant," each of eighty. By a singular misconception, however, he had thought that any attack would fall upon the rear—the lee flank; and to this utter misapprehension of the exposed points it was owing that he there placed his next heaviest ships. Nelson's fore-determined onslaught upon the van accordingly fell on the weakest of the French vessels.

Such was the French order of battle. The proceedings of the British fleet, under its leader, show an instructive combination of rapidity and caution, of quick comprehension of the situation, with an absence of all precipitation; no haste incompatible with perfect carefulness, no time lost, either by hesitation or by preparations postponed. When the enemy were first discovered, two ships, the "Alexander" and "Swiftsure," were a dozen miles to leeward, having been sent ahead on frigates' duty to reconnoitre Alexandria. This circumstance prevented their joining till after the battle began and night had fallen. At the same moment the "Culloden" was seven miles to windward. She was signalled to drop the prize she was towing, and to join the fleet. To this separation was due that she went aground. The remaining ten ships, which had been steering about east, hauled sharp on the wind to enable them to weather with ample allowance the shoal off Aboukir Island. It was blowing a whole-sail breeze, too fresh for the lighter canvas; the royals were furled as soon as close-hauled. As the French situation and dispositions developed to the view, signals were made to prepare for battle, to get ready to anchor by the stern, and that it was the admiral's intention to attack the van and centre of the enemy. The captains had long been forewarned of each of these possibilities, and nothing more was needed to convey to them his general plan, which was intrusted to them individually to carry out as they successively came into action.

At about half-past five signal was given to form line of battle. This, for the ships of the day, was a single column, in which they were ranged ahead and astern of each other, leaving the broadside clear. As they came abreast the shoal, Nelson hailed Captain Hood, of the "Zealous," and asked if he thought they were yet far enough to the eastward to clear it, if they then headed for the enemy. Hood replied that he did not know the ground, but was in eleven fathoms, and would, if the admiral allowed, bear up and sound with the lead, and would not bring the fleet into danger. This was done, Hood leading all the fleet except the "Goliath," Captain Foley, which kept ahead, but outside, of the "Zealous." No close shaving was done, however, at this critical turn; and it is that steady deliberation, combined with such parsimony of time in other moments, which is most impressive in Nelson. So few realize that five minutes are at once the most important and the least important of considerations. Thus the British passed so much beyond the island and the shoal, before keeping away, that, as the long column swept round to head for the French van, the ships turned their port broadsides to the enemy, and were steering southwesterly when they finally ran down. "The English admiral," wrote the French second in command, "without doubt had experienced pilots on board; he hauled well round all dangers."

The "Goliath" still leading the fleet, followed closely by the "Zealous," the flagship was dropped to sixth in the order,—Nelson thus placing himself so that he could see what the first five ships accomplished, while retaining in his own hands the power to impart a new direction to the remaining five of those then with him, should he think it necessary. Captain Foley had formed the idea that the French would be less ready to fight on the inshore side, and had expressed his intention to get inside them, if practicable. Sounding as he went, he passed round the bows of the leading vessel, the "Guerrier," on the inner bow of which he intended to place himself; but the anchor hung, and the "Goliath" brought up on the inner quarter of the "Conquerant," the second ship. The "Zealous," following, anchored where Foley had purposed, on the bow of the "Guerrier;" and the next three ships, the "Orion," "Theseus," and "Audacious," also placed themselves on the inner side of the French line.

The two leading French vessels were at once crushed. All the masts of the "Guerrier," although no sail was on them, went overboard within ten minutes after she was first attacked, while the "Conquerant" was receiving the united broadsides of the "Goliath" and the "Audacious,"—the latter raking. Nelson therefore placed the "Vanguard" on the outer side, and within pistol-shot, of the third French ship, the "Spartiate," which was already engaged on the other side by the "Theseus," but at much longer range. His example was of course followed by those succeeding him—the seventh and eighth of the British engaging the fourth and fifth of the French, which were already receiving part of the fire of the "Orion" and "Theseus" on the inner side—the latter having ceased to play upon the "Spartiate" for fear of hitting the "Vanguard." Thus five French ships were within half an hour in desperate conflict with eight British, while their consorts to leeward looked helplessly on.

The ninth and tenth of Nelson's fleet were less fortunate, owing to the envelope of smoke and the growing darkness, which now obscured the scene. The "Bellerophon," missing the sixth French vessel, the "Franklin," brought up abreast the "Orient," whose force was double her own, and which had no other antagonist. The "Majestic," groping her way, ran into the ninth French, the "Heureux," where for some moments she hung in a position of disadvantage and had her captain killed. Then swinging clear, she anchored on the bow of the next astern, the "Mercure," and there continued a deadly and solitary action. Owing to the circumstances mentioned, the loss of each of these ships was greater, by fifty per cent, than that of any other of the British fleet. The movements so far described, and the resultant fighting, may be styled the first stage of the battle. Concerning it may be remarked the unswerving steadiness, rapidity, and yet sound judgment, with which all the movements were executed; and further, that not only was the first direction of the attack that prescribed by Nelson's signal, but that the second, initiated by his own ship, was also imparted by him. The incident of passing round the "Guerrier," and inside of the line, is a detail only, although one which cannot be too highly praised. "The van ship of the enemy being in five fathom," wrote Captain Hood, "I expected the Goliath and Zealous to stick fast on the shoal every moment, and did not imagine we should attempt to pass within her." It is difficult to exaggerate the coolness, intrepidity, and seamanlike care of Captain Foley, to whom is to be attributed, perhaps, the whole conception, and certainly the entire merit of the execution; but they no more detract from Nelson's honors than does the distinguished conduct of the other captains.

The battle had begun a little after half-past six, the "Guerrier's" masts falling at sundown, which was quarter before seven. It continued under the conditions already given until past eight o'clock—none of the ships engaged shifting her position for some time after that hour. It was, apparently, just before the second act of the drama opened with the arrival of the remaining ships—the "Alexander," "Swiftsure," and "Leander"—that Nelson was severely wounded; but the precise moment has not been recorded. He was struck upon the upper part of the forehead by a flying piece of iron, the skin, which was cut at right angles, hanging down over his face, covering the one good eye, and, with the profuse flow of blood, blinding him completely. He exclaimed, "I am killed! Remember me to my wife!" and was falling, but Captain Berry, who stood near, caught him in his arms. When carried below to the cockpit, the surgeon went immediately to him, but he refused to be attended before his turn arrived, in due succession to the injured lying around him.

The pain was intense, and Nelson felt convinced that his hurt was mortal; nor could he for some time accept the surgeon's assurances to the contrary. Thus looking for his end, he renewed his farewell messages to Lady Nelson, and directed also that Captain Louis of the "Minotaur," which lay immediately ahead of the "Vanguard," should be hailed to come on board, that before dying he might express to him his sense of the admirable support given by her to the flagship. "Your support," said he, "has prevented me from being obliged to haul out of the line."[64] From the remark it may be inferred that the French "Aquilon," their fourth ship, which became the "Minotaur's" antagonist, had for a measurable time been able to combine her batteries with those of the "Spartiate" upon the "Vanguard," and to this was probably due that the loss of the latter was next in severity to that of the "Majestic" and of the "Bellerophon." The inference is further supported by the fact that the worst slaughter in the "Vanguard" was at the forward guns, those nearest the "Aquilon."

After his wound was bound up, Nelson was requested by the surgeon to lie quiet; but his preoccupation with the events of the evening was too great, and his responsibility too immediate, to find relief in inactivity,—the physician's panacea. He remained below for a while, probably too much jarred for physical exertion; but his restlessness sought vent by beginning a despatch to the Admiralty. The secretary being too agitated to write, Nelson tried to do so himself, and it was characteristic that the few lines he was then able to trace, blinded, suffering, and confused, expressed that dependence upon the Almighty, habitual with him, which illustrated a temperament of so much native energy and self-reliance, and is more common, probably, among great warriors than in any other class of men of action. This first outburst of emotion, excited in him by the tremendous event wrought by his hands, was identical in spirit, and not improbably was clothed in the same words, as those with which began the despatch actually sent: "Almighty God has blessed His Majesty's arms."

While Nelson lay thus momentarily disabled, important events were transpiring, over which, however, he could have exerted no control. It has been mentioned that the "Culloden" was seven miles to the northward and westward of the fleet, when the French were first discovered. Doing her best, it was impossible to reach the main body before it stood down into action, and the day had closed when the ship neared the shoal. Keeping the lead going, and proceeding with caution, though not with the extreme care which led Hood and Nelson to make so wide a sweep, Troubridge had the mishap to strike on the tail of the shoal, and there the ship stuck fast, pounding heavily until the next morning. The fifty-gun ship "Leander" went to her assistance, as did the brig "Mutine," but all efforts to float her proved vain. Meanwhile the "Alexander" and "Swiftsure" were coming up from the southwest, the wind being so scant that they could barely pass to windward of the reef, along whose northwestern edge they were standing. The "Alexander," in fact, was warned by the lead that she was running into danger, and had to tack. As they approached, Troubridge, by lantern and signal, warned them off the spot of his disaster, thus contributing to save these ships, and, by removing doubt, accelerating their entrance into action. As they rounded the stranded "Culloden," the "Leander" was also dismissed from a hopeless task, and followed them to the scene of battle.

The delay of the two seventy-fours, though purely fortuitous, worked in furtherance of Nelson's plan, and resulted, practically, in constituting them a reserve, which was brought into play at a most auspicious moment. The "Bellerophon," crushed by the preponderating weight of the "Orient's" battery, had just cut her cable and worn out of action, with the loss of forty-nine killed and one hundred and forty-eight wounded, out of a total of five hundred and ninety men. Her foremast alone was then standing, and it fell immediately after. The firing, which had been animated from the French left towards the centre, now slackened around the latter, at the point where the "Orient" and her next ahead, the "Franklin," were lying. For this spot, therefore, the captains of the two fresh British ships steered. The "Swiftsure," Captain Hallowell, anchored outside the enemy's line, abreast the interval separating the "Orient" and the "Franklin," between which he divided his fire. The "Alexander," Captain Ball, passed through the line, astern of the "Orient," and anchored close on her inner quarter. Just at this time a shot cut the cable of the "Peuple Souverain," next ahead of the "Franklin," and she drifted out of her place to abreast the latter ship, ahead of which a wide gap of a thousand feet was thus left. Into this the "Leander" glided, fixing herself with great skill to rake at once the "Franklin" and the "Orient."

These two French ships had already been much battered, and the "Franklin" was still receiving part of the fire of the "Orion," Sir James Saumarez, on her inner bow, as well as that of the "Defence," hitherto engaged by the "Peuple Souverain." This accumulation upon them of three fresh ships would doubtless have proved irresistible, even if a yet more dire calamity had not supervened. The new-comers took their positions soon after eight, and a little before nine a fire was observed on the poop of the "Orient." The British captains, seeing the flames fighting on their behalf, redoubled their efforts, directing their aim especially upon the scene of the conflagration, and thereby thwarting all attempt to extinguish it. The blaze spread rapidly, upward through the tarred rigging and the masts, downward to the lower decks, where her heroic crew, still ignorant of the approaching doom, labored incessantly at their guns. As the sublime sight forced itself upon the eyes of all about, friends and enemies alike busied themselves with precautions for their own safety in the coming catastrophe. The ships to windward held on; those to leeward for the most part veered or slipped their cables, the "Alexander" fiercely refusing to do so till assured that the "Orient's" destruction was inevitable. Captain Berry went below to report to the admiral this appalling climax to the night's work, and to his own long-sustained efforts in chase and battle. Nelson demanded to be led on deck, where he gave orders that the only boat still in condition for use should be sent with the "Vanguard's" first lieutenant, to help save the unhappy crew. He then remained watching the progress of the fire. At quarter before ten the "Orient" blew up. At this time the moon rose, and from her tranquil path looked down, through the clear Egyptian air, upon the scene of devastation.

Nelson was now persuaded to go to bed, but he neither got nor sought repose of mind. Throughout the night, and in the early morning, messages went from him to various ships to take this or that step, to garner in the fruits of the victory yet unculled. The fleet responded somewhat spasmodically, if not inadequately, to these calls. Men in truth were worn out with labor and excitement. "My people were so extremely jaded," wrote Captain Miller of the "Theseus," who obeyed a summons to move, "that as soon as they had hove our sheet anchor up they dropped under the capstan bars, and were asleep in a moment in every sort of posture, having been then working at their fullest exertion, or fighting, for near twelve hours." Nelson, in common with other great leaders, could not be satisfied with any but the utmost results. To quote again his words of years gone by: "Had ten ships been taken and the eleventh escaped, we being able to get at her, I should never consider it well done." His idea, Captain Berry tells us, was first to secure the victory, and then to make the most of it, as circumstances might permit. The expression is so luminous that it can scarcely be doubted that the words are substantially those of the admiral himself.[65] First, the great combination, which necessarily for the moment neglects a part of the enemy in order to disconcert and overwhelm the rest; afterwards, the unremitting pursuit, which completes the triumph.

It was therefore perfectly characteristic of Nelson's habit of thought, and not merely an egotistic expression of baseless discontent with others, that he avowed his dissatisfaction with the results of the night's work, stupendous and wholly unparalleled as they were. But his own condition, prostrated and with disabled head, was doubly typical of the state of his fleet after the "Orient" blew up. Not only were men overcome with fatigue,—from weariness as great men have been aroused by the inspiring call of a trusted chief,—but the guiding head of the body was dazed and incapacitated; that was gone which alone could sustain energy and give unity to movement. Although Nelson indulged in no metaphorical allusions, he had this figure of the head clearly enough in his mind, when he wrote four weeks later to Lord Minto: "I regret that one escaped, and I think, if it had pleased God that I had not been wounded, not a boat would have escaped to have told the tale; but do not believe that any individual in the fleet is to blame. In my conscience, I believe greater exertions could not have been, and I only mean to say, that if my experience could in person have directed[66] those exertions of individuals, there was every appearance that Almighty God would have continued to bless my endeavours." This opinion he reiterated to Lord Howe, even more positively, after four months' longer reflection, in a letter dated January 8, 1799; and, whether the result would or would not have equalled his belief, the traces are clear that what was wanted, during the remainder of that eventful night, was just that concord of action which the head imparts to the members. Messages went from ship to ship, captains consulted together and proposed to move together, and did move separately; there was no lack of good-will, nor, as Nelson says, of exertion; but men were not quite sure of what the other man would do, and felt no authority to command him; and there was hesitation over risks, and cautious delays about soundings and shaky spars, which, the author is persuaded, would not have deterred Nelson in such conditions, where victory was decisive, though not yet complete. Illustrations would perhaps be invidious, as seeming to imply a blame upon individuals which Nelson expressly disavowed; blame that officers of exceptional professional capacity, concerning whom the measured professional opinion of Lord Howe affirmed that the Battle of the Nile "was unparalleled in this respect, that every captain distinguished himself," fell short of the peculiar excellence attained by Nelson only among the men of his day. Moreover, this work does not aim at a discussion of battles, except so far as they touch Nelson personally. It may, however, be permissible to remark, that the incident here under discussion suggests a doubt about the opinion, too easily current, that an admiral's powers of control cease when the battle joins. Under the circumstances, it is probable that Nelson, being so far incapacitated as he thought himself, should have transferred the direction of affairs, formally, to the next senior officer, with general orders to secure the best results attainable.

The following morning it was found that the leading six ships of the French had already struck their colors. The "Orient" having blown up, there were six survivors. Of these, one, the "Tonnant," next astern of the "Orient," though dismasted, was still afloat, a mile behind her former position, having dropped there to avoid the explosion. The "Heureux" and "Mercure," which had slipped their cables for the same reason, were ashore and helpless. The spars of the three rear ships, the "Guillaume Tell," "Genereux," and "Timoleon," were still standing, and they had received little injury. At about noon these vessels, commanded by Rear Admiral Villeneuve, got under way to go to sea; but the "Timoleon" cast with her head inshore, and, after an ineffectual attempt to wear, ran aground, bows on, her foremast going over the side as she struck. The crew escaped to the beach, and she was then set on fire by her captain, her colors flying as she burned. The two other ships escaped, with two frigates which accompanied them. Only one British ship, the "Zealous," was in condition to follow, and she did so; but Nelson, seeing that she could not be supported, recalled her from the unequal contest.

It is upon the chance that these sole survivors of the great catastrophe might have been secured, by action during the night, that the validity of Nelson's regrets turns. Concerning this, it is impossible to affirm positively one way or the other; therefore his regrets were well grounded. It is not certainties, but chances, that determine the propriety of military action. Had Villeneuve, conscious that he had done nothing as yet, and not fully aware how the fight had gone, hesitated about running away, and had several British ships dropped to leeward together, which was all they had to do, and what the dismasted French had done, it was quite within the bound of possibilities that the "Genereux" and the "Guillaume Tell" would have been crippled at their anchors. "If" and "but," it may be objected. Quite so; it is on if and but, not on yea and nay, that military criticism justly dwells. A flash of lightning and a crash of thunder may be seen and heard; it is the still small voice that leads the hero to success. As regards Villeneuve, indecision was his distinguishing trait; and Bonaparte wrote that if any error could be imputed to him, it was that he had not got under way as soon as the "Orient" blew up, for by that time the battle was lost beyond redemption.

The extent of the victory was decided by this retreat, and Nelson, before devoting himself to the new duties entailed by his successes, paused an instant that he might first acknowledge his debt of gratitude to God and man. A memorandum was issued at once to the captains of the Squadron:

Vanguard off the mouth of the Nile, 2d August, 1798.

Almighty God having blessed His Majesty's arms with victory, the Admiral intends returning Public Thanksgiving for the same at two o'clock this day; and he recommends every ship doing the same as soon as convenient.

HORATIO NELSON.

To those under his command he at the same time issued a general order, congratulating, by explicit mention of each class, the captains, officers, seamen, and marines, upon the event of the conflict. "The Admiral desires they will accept his most sincere and cordial thanks for their very gallant behaviour in this glorious battle." It was this habit of associating to himself, in full recognition and grateful remembrance, those who followed and fought with him, that enthroned Nelson in the affections of his men; nor will it escape observation that the warmth, though so genuine, breathes through words whose quietness might be thought studied, were they not so transparently spontaneous. There is in them no appeal to egotism, to the gratified passion for glory, although to that he was far from insensible; it is the simple speech of man to man, between those who have stood by one another in the hour of danger, and done their duty—the acknowledgment after the event, which is the complement of the famous signal before Trafalgar.

The order closed with further words of commendation, which will not have the immortal response of the human heart to the other phrases; but which, uttered at such a moment, conveyed a salutary warning, justified as much by recent unhappy events in the British navy, as by the well-known disorganization and anarchy that had disgraced that of France. "It must strike forcibly every British seaman, how superior their conduct is, when in discipline and good order, to the riotous behaviour of lawless Frenchmen."[67] Captain Berry states that the assembling of the "Vanguard's" ship's company for the thanksgiving service strongly impressed the prisoners on board,—not from the religious point of view, which was alien from the then prevalent French temper,—but as evidence of an order and discipline which could render such a proceeding acceptable, after a victory so great, and at a moment of such seeming confusion. No small amount of self-possession, indeed, was needed thus to direct the attention of six hundred men, in the confined space of a ship, whose shattered sides and blood-stained decks bore witness to the hundred dead and wounded snatched from their number within the few hours before; yet, on the other hand, nothing could have been better calculated to compose the thoughts, or to facilitate the transition from the excitement of battle to the resumption of daily life.

If, by the escape of two ships-of-the-line, the British triumph lacked something in technical completeness, the disaster to the French was no less absolute. Victory, said Nelson truly, is not the name for such a scene as I have witnessed. There remained now to gather up the spoils of the field, and to realize the consequences of the battle, great and small, near and remote. The first was speedily done; battered as they were, "only two masts standing out of nine sail-of-the-line," within a fortnight six of the nine prizes were ready to start for Gibraltar. Little by little, yet with the rapidity of his now highly trained intuitions, Nelson saw the greatness of what he had effected, and with his full native energy struggled on, amid mental confusion and bodily suffering, and in the heat of an Egyptian August, to secure all the fruits of success. With splitting head and constantly sick, a significant indication of the rattling shock his brain had received, he was wonderfully helped, so far as the direction of his efforts was concerned, by the previous familiarity of his mind with the various elements of the problem. First of all, the home government must be informed of an event that would so profoundly affect the future. Berry's orders, as bearer of despatches to St. Vincent off Cadiz, were issued on the 2d of August; but there were no frigates, and the "Leander," appointed to carry him, could not sail till the 6th. For the same reason it was not until the 14th that the "Mutine" could be sent off with duplicates, to go direct to the Admiralty by way of Naples,—a wise precaution in all events, but doubly justified in this case; for the brig reached port, whereas the fifty-gun ship was captured by the "Genereux." The "Mutine's" account, though hastened forward without delay, reached London only on the 2d of October, two months after the action.

The news was received at the first with an applause and a popular commotion commensurate to its greatness, and promised for the moment to overflow even the barriers of routine in one of the most conservative of nations. "Mr. Pitt told me the day after Captain Capel arrived," wrote his old admiral, Hood, to Nelson, "that you would certainly be a Viscount, which I made known to Lady Nelson. But it was objected to in a certain quarter, because your Lordship was not a commander-in-chief. In my humble opinion a more flimsy reason never was given." Official circles regained, or rather perhaps again lost, their senses, and the victory, unquestionably the most nearly complete and the most decisive ever gained by a British fleet, was rewarded, in the person of the commanding officer, with honors less than those bestowed for St. Vincent and Camperdown. Nelson was advanced to the lowest rank of the peerage, as Baron Nelson of the Nile. "In congratulating your Lordship on this high distinction," wrote the First Lord, "I have particular pleasure in remarking, that it is the highest honour that has ever been conferred on an officer of your standing,[68] in the Service, and who was not a commander-in-chief; and the addition [of the Nile] to the Title is meant more especially to mark the occasion on which it was granted, which, however, without any such precaution, is certainly of a nature never to be forgotten." His Lordship's sense of humor must a little have failed him, when he penned the platitude of the last few words.

To the sharp criticism passed in the House of Commons on the smallness of the recognition, the Prime Minister replied that Nelson's glory did not depend upon the rank to which he might be raised in the peerage; a truism too palpable and inapplicable for serious utterance, the question before the House being, not the measure of Nelson's glory, but that of the national acknowledgment. As Hood justly said, "All remunerations should be proportionate to the service done to the public;" and if that cannot always be attained absolutely, without exhausting the powers of the State,[69] there should at least be some proportion between the rewards themselves, extended to individuals, and the particular services. But even were the defence of the Ministers technically perfect, it would have been pleasanter to see them a little blinded by such an achievement. Once in a way, under some provocations, it is refreshing to see men able even to make fools of themselves.

Nelson made to the First Lord's letter a reply that was dignified and yet measured, to a degree unusual to him, contrasting singularly with his vehement reclamations for others after Copenhagen. Without semblance of complaint, he allowed plainly to appear between the lines his own sense that the reward was not proportionate to the service done. "I have received your Lordship's letter communicating to me the Title his Majesty has been graciously pleased to confer upon me—an Honour, your Lordship is pleased to say, the highest that has ever been conferred on an officer of my standing who was not a Commander-in-Chief. I receive as I ought what the goodness of our Sovereign, and not my deserts, is pleased to bestow; but great and unexampled as this honour may be to one of my standing, yet I own I feel a higher one in the unbounded confidence of the King, your Lordship, and the whole World, in my exertions. Even at the bitter moment of my return to Syracuse, your Lordship is not insensible of the great difficulties I had to encounter in not being a Commander-in-Chief. The only happy moment I felt was in the view of the French; then I knew that all my sufferings would soon be at an end." To Berry he wrote: "As to both our Honours, it is a proof how much a battle fought near England is prized to one fought at a great distance."

Whatever was defective in the formal recognition of his own government was abundantly supplied by the tributes which flowed from other quarters, so various, that his own phrase, "the whole world," is scarcely an exaggeration to apply to them. The Czar, the Sultan, the Kings of Sardinia and of the Two Sicilies, sent messages of congratulation and rich presents; the Czar accompanying his with an autograph letter. The Houses of Parliament voted their thanks and a pension of L2,000 a year. The East India Company acknowledged the security gained for their Indian possessions by a gift of L10,000, L2,000 of which he, with his wonted generosity, divided at once among his father and family, most of whom were not in prosperous circumstances. Other corporations took appropriate notice of the great event; instances so far apart as the cities of London and Palermo, and the Island of Zante, showing how wide-spread was the sense of relief. Not least gratifying to him, with his sensitive appreciation of friendship and susceptibility to flattery, must have been the numerous letters of congratulation he received from friends in and out of the service. The three great admirals,—Lords Howe, Hood, and St. Vincent,—the leaders of the Navy in rank and distinguished service, wrote to him in the strongest terms of admiration. The two last styled the battle the greatest achievement that History could produce; while Howe's language, if more measured, was so only because, like himself, it was more precise in characterizing the special merits of the action, and was therefore acknowledged by Nelson with particular expressions of pleasure.

Besides the honors bestowed upon the commander of the squadron, and the comprehensive vote of thanks usual on such occasions, a gold medal commemorative of the battle was given to the admiral and to each of the captains present. The First Lord also wrote that the first-lieutenants of the ships engaged would be promoted at once. The word "engaged" caught Nelson's attention, as apparently intended to exclude the lieutenant of the "Culloden," Troubridge's unlucky ship. "For Heaven's sake, for my sake," he wrote to St. Vincent, "if this is so, get it altered. Our dear friend Troubridge has suffered enough. His sufferings were in every respect more than any of us. He deserves every reward which a grateful Country can bestow on the most meritorious sea-officer of his standing in the service. I have felt his worth every hour of my command." "I well know, he is my superior," he said on another occasion; "and I so often want his advice and assistance. I have experienced the ability and activity of his mind and body: it was Troubridge that equipped the squadron so soon at Syracuse—it was he that exerted himself for me after the action—it was Troubridge who saved the "Culloden," when none that I know in the service would have attempted it—it was Troubridge whom I left as myself at Naples to watch movements—he is, as a friend and an officer, a nonpareil!" His entreaties prevailed so far that the officer in question received his promotion, not with the others, but immediately after them; a distinction which Troubridge bewailed bitterly, as a reflection upon himself and his ship.

On the 9th of August, Nelson sent a lieutenant to Alexandretta, on the northern coast of Syria, to make his way overland, by way of Aleppo, to India, with despatches to the Governor of Bombay. Resuming briefly the events of the past months, and the numbers and character of the French army in Egypt, he expresses the hope that special care will be exercised against the departure of ships from India, to convey this huge force thither by the Red Sea. On the side of the Mediterranean, their fate is settled by the recent victory. They can receive nothing from France; they cannot advance freely into Syria, as water transport is essential for much of their equipment; even in Egypt itself they are hampered by the difficulties of communication—on land by the guerilla hostility of the natives, and now on the water through his own presence and control. The Nile, through its Rosetta mouth, had been heretofore the easiest communication between Cairo and Alexandria. The garrison of the latter depended largely for daily bread upon this route, now closed by the fleet in Aboukir Bay. By land, nothing short of a regiment could pass over ground where, even before the battle, the French watering-parties from the ships had to be protected by heavy armed bodies. He intended, therefore, to remain where he was as long as possible. "If my letter is not so correct as might be expected," he concludes, "I trust for your excuse, when I tell you that my brain is so shook with the wounds in my head, that I am sensible I am not always so clear as could be wished; but whilst a ray of reason remains, my heart and my head shall ever be exerted for the benefit of our King and Country."

It may be added here, that the scar left by this wound seems to have been the cause of Nelson's hair being trained down upon his forehead, during the later years of his life. Prior to that it was brushed well off and up, as may be seen in the portrait by Abbott, painted during his stay in England, while recovering from the loss of his arm. After his death, a young officer of the "Victory," who had cut off some locks for those who wished such a remembrance of their friend, speaks of "the hair that used to hang over his forehead, near the wound that he received at the Battle of the Nile."

The perception of his control over the communications from Rosetta to Alexandria dawned rather late upon Nelson, for on the 5th of August he had announced his purpose of starting down the Mediterranean on the 19th. This he postponed afterwards to the first part of September, and again for as long as possible. While in this intention, most secret and urgent orders came on the 15th from St. Vincent, to return to the westward with his command, and to co-operate with an expedition planned against Minorca. Six prizes, with seven of the British ships-of-the-line, had started on the 14th for Gibraltar, under the command of Sir James Saumarez. The three remaining prizes were burned, and hasty temporary repairs, adequate only for a summer voyage, were put upon the "Vanguard," "Culloden," and "Alexander," the three most defective ships of his fleet. On the 19th he sailed with these three for Naples, which he had from the first intended to visit, in order to give them the complete overhauling they imperatively needed. On and after the 13th of August several frigates had joined him. Three of these, with three ships-of-the-line, were left with Captain Hood, to conduct the blockade of Alexandria, and to suppress the enemy's communications by water along the coasts of Egypt and Syria.

FOOTNOTES:

[60] The author is indebted to the present Lord De Saumarez for a copy of the opinion of Sir James Saumarez, written on board the "Vanguard" at this meeting:—

"The French fleet having left Malta six days ago, had their destination been the Island of Sicily there is reason to presume we should have obtained information of it yesterday off Syracuse, or the day before in coming through the Pharo of Messina—under all circumstances I think it most conducive to the good of His Majesty's service to make the best of our way for Alexandria, as the only means of saving our possessions in India, should the French armament be destined for that country.

"Vanguard, at sea, 22d June 1798. JAMES SAUMAREZ."

[61] Clarke and M'Arthur's Life of Nelson, vol. ii. p. 100.

[62] That is, counting from May 19, when Bonaparte left Toulon, to June 7, when Troubridge's squadron joined, and pursuit began.

[63] Nelson to Lord Howe.

[64] G. Lathom Browne's Life of Nelson, p. 198.

[65] An interesting example of the illuminating effect of a sound maxim upon different phases of a man's life and actions, and one illustrative of the many-sidedness of this motto of Nelson's, occurs later in his career, and not long before his death. When the frigates "Phoebe" and "Amazon" were ordered to cruise before Toulon in October, 1804, "Lord Nelson gave Captains Capel and Parker several injunctions, in case they should get an opportunity of attacking two of the French frigates, which now got under way more frequently. The principal one was, that they should not each single out and attack an opponent, but 'that both should endeavour together to take one frigate; if successful, chase the other; but if you do not take the second, still you have won a victory, and your country will gain a frigate.'" (Phillimore's Last of Nelson's Captains, p. 122.) When summarized, this again is—Victory first; afterwards the results, as circumstances may permit.

[66] Author's italics.

[67] Author's italics.

[68] "Rank" doubtless is meant by this singularly ill-chosen word.

[69] As General Sherman justly asked, "What reward adequate to the service, could the United States have given Grant for the Vicksburg campaign?"



CHAPTER XI.

NELSON'S RETURN FROM EGYPT TO NAPLES.—MEETING WITH LADY HAMILTON.—ASSOCIATION WITH THE COURT OF NAPLES.—WAR BETWEEN NAPLES AND FRANCE.—DEFEAT OF THE NEAPOLITANS.—FLIGHT OF THE COURT TO PALERMO.

SEPTEMBER-DECEMBER, 1798. AGE, 40.

The voyage of Nelson's small division from Aboukir Bay to Naples occupied between four and five weeks, owing partly to light and contrary winds, and partly to the dull sailing of the "Culloden," which had a sail secured under her bottom to lessen the dangerous leak caused by her grounding on the night of the battle. This otherwise unwelcome delay procured for Nelson a period of salutary, though enforced, repose, which the nature of his injuries made especially desirable. His mind, indeed, did not cease to work, but it was free from harassment; and the obvious impossibility of doing anything, save accept the present easy-going situation, contributed strongly to the quietness upon which restoration depended. Nor were there wanting matters of daily interest to prevent an excess of monotony. Now that frigates were no longer so vitally necessary, they and other light cruisers turned up with amusing frequency, bringing information, and being again despatched hither and yonder with letters from the admiral, which reflected instinctively his personal moods, and his active concern in the future military operations.

The distress from his head continued for some time with little abatement, and naturally much affected his tone of mind. At the first he spoke of his speedy return to England as inevitable, nor did the prospect occasion the discouragement which he had experienced after the loss of his arm; a symptom which had shown the moral effect of failure upon a sensitive and ambitious temperament. "My head is ready to split," he had written to St. Vincent before starting, "and I am always so sick; in short, if there be no fracture, my head is severely shaken." A fortnight after leaving the bay, he writes him again: "I know I ought to give up for a little while; my head is splitting at this moment;" and Nicolas remarks that the letter bears evident marks of suffering, three attempts being made to spell the word "splitting." Yet by this time the pain had become at least intermittent, for Saumarez, whose squadron fell in with the admiral's division several times, notes that on the 26th of August he spent half an hour on board the flagship, and found him in perfect health; and on the 7th of September Nelson himself writes to the British minister at Florence that he felt so much recovered, it was probable he would not go home for the present. A few days later he wrote to Hood, off Alexandria, that he relied upon the thoroughness of the blockade to complete the destruction of the French army. "I shall not go home," he added, "until this is effected, and the islands of Malta, Corfu, &c., retaken."

It is to the furtherance of these objects, all closely allied, and in his apprehension mutually dependent, that his occasional letters are directed. His sphere of operations he plainly conceives to be from Malta, eastward, to Syria inclusive. "I detest this voyage to Naples," he wrote to St. Vincent, two days before reaching the port. "Nothing but absolute necessity could force me to the measure. Syracuse in future, whilst my operations lie on the eastern side of Sicily, is my port, where every refreshment may be had for a fleet." The present necessity was that of refit and repair, to which Syracuse was inadequate. "For myself," he sent word to Sir William Hamilton, "I hope not to be more than four or five days at Naples, for these times are not for idleness." Not long after his arrival this conviction as to the movements requiring his personal presence underwent an entire change; and thenceforth, till he left for England two years later, it was only the presence of clear emergency, appealing to his martial instincts and calling forth the sense of duty which lay at the root of his character, that could persuade him his proper place was elsewhere than at the Court of Naples. It is only fair to add that, upon the receipt of the news of his great victory, the Admiralty designated to St. Vincent, as first in order among the cares of the squadron within the Mediterranean, "the protection of the coasts of Sicily, Naples, and the Adriatic, and, in the event of war being renewed in Italy, an active co-operation with the Austrian and Neapolitan armies." Long before these instructions were received, the very day indeed that they were written, Nelson had become urgently instrumental in precipitating Naples into war. Next in order of interest, by the Admiralty's letters, were, successively, the isolation of Egypt and of Malta, and co-operation with the Russian and Turkish squadrons which, it was expected, would be sent into the Archipelago, and which actually did attack and capture Corfu. The letter thus summarized may be taken to indicate the general extent of Nelson's charge during the two following years.

It may be said, then, without error, that Nelson's opinion as to the direction of his personal supervision underwent a decisive change after his arrival in Naples. Before it, he is urgent with that Court to support with active naval assistance the operations against Malta, and to send bomb-vessels, the absence of which he continually deplores, to shell the transports in the harbor of Alexandria. He hopes, indeed, to find on his arrival that the Emperor and many other powers are at war with the French, but his attention is concentrated upon Bonaparte's army. To the British minister in Turkey he is yet more insistent as to what the Sultan should undertake. If he will but send a few ships-of-the-line, and some bombs, he will destroy all their transports in Alexandria; and an army of ten thousand men may retake Alexandria immediately, as the French have only four thousand men in it. Subsequent events showed this forecast of Nelson's to be as erroneous as those of Napoleon were at times in regard to naval prospects. "General Bonaparte," he continues, "only wants a communication opened by sea, to march into Syria, that the transports with stores, &c., for the army, may go alongshore with him." This he had learned from French officers who were prisoners on board, and we know it corresponded with the facts. "If the Sultan will not send anything, he will lose Syria." "Naples," he tells St Vincent, "is saved in spite of herself. They have evidently broken their treaty with France, and yet are afraid to assist in finishing the vast armament of the French. Four hours with bomb vessels, would set all in a blaze, and we know what an army is without stores." This anticipation also proved deceptive; but the expressions quoted are fair examples of the general tenor of his letters between Aboukir and Naples, and show his feeling that the important points of his command lay to the east of Sicily.