The Life of Nelson, Volume 1

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."

Map of Coast-line, Alexandria to Rosetta

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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.