A secret epistle, at the same time, addressed to Sir William and Lady
Hamilton, has these words—
"MY DEAR FRIENDS,
"Thanks to your exertions, we have victualled and watered: and, surely, watering at the Fountain of Arethusa, we must have victory! We shall sail with the first breeze; and, be assured, I will return either crowned with laurel, or covered with cypress."
Though no person in the fleet was acquainted with the harbour of Syracuse, such was the skill and exertion of the officers that every ship got safely in: and, full permission having been secured, by the admirable management and address of Lady Hamilton, not only water, but other articles of the first necessity, were obtained with the greatest expedition. Indeed, though there was no proper or regular water-place, the classical Fountain of Arethusa, that celebrated daughter of Oceanus, and nymph of the Goddess of Chastity, supplied them copiously with her pure and traditionally propitious libations; and the hero, it has been seen, did not fail to anticipate, with becoming gratulations, his sense of their indisputable efficacy. Such were the exertions of the officers and men, and such were the facilities, in other respects, which they now enjoyed, that the whole squadron were in a condition to put to sea by the 25th.
In the mean time, Admiral Nelson had addressed a letter to the Earl of St. Vincent, on the 20th instant, stating what he had done since his last, and his future intentions. "Yesterday," says he, "I arrived here; where I can learn no more than conjecture, that the French are gone to the eastward. Every moment, I have to regret the frigates having left me; to which must be attributed my ignorance of the movements of the enemy. 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. It is my intention to get into the mouth of the Archipelago; where, if the enemy are gone towards Constantinople, we shall hear of them directly: if I get no information there, to go to Cyprus; where, if they are in Syria or Egypt, I must hear of them. We have a report that, on the 1st of July, the French were seen off Candia; but, near what part of the island I cannot learn."
Being now ready for sea, and finding that the French fleet had neither been seen in the Archipelago, nor the Adriatic, nor gone down the Mediterranean, he concluded that the coast of Egypt must still be the object of their destination. With this impression on his anxious mind, it is not to be supposed that he would for a moment hesitate in again seeking them there, through any consideration of the immoderate heat of climate, or other experienced or apprehended hardships.
On the 25th of July, accordingly, the British squadron sailed from Syracuse; and, hoping some positive information might be obtained in the Morea, he steered first for that coast: having, on the 28th, made the Gulph of Coron, Captain Troubridge was dispatched with the Culloden, into the port of Coron; off which place, owing to the usual active exertion of that able officer, the fleet was not detained longer than three hours. The Turkish governor, with great pleasure, gave Captain Troubridge the welcome intelligence, that the enemy had been seen steering to the south-east, from Candia, about four weeks before. The captain had, also, during his very short visit, the satisfaction of observing that the inhabitants of Coron entertained the most serious apprehensions from the French armament, and expressed the greatest possible detestation and abhorrence of that people.
The reasons now became evident, which had before seemed unaccountable, how it happened that the enemy should have been missed by the British squadron, both in it's passage to Alexandria, and in it's return to Syracuse. The French, having steered a direct course for Candia, had necessarily made an angular passage towards Alexandria; while Admiral Nelson, by immediately proceeding to Alexandria, most materially shortened the distance. The smallness of his squadron, too, making it expedient to sail in close order, the space which it occupied was extremely limited; and, having no frigates to detach on the look out, the chance of descrying the enemy, unless very near, amid the haze of the atmosphere in that climate, was prodigiously circumscribed. Under these circumstances, the distance of about thirty-five leagues, between Candia and the Barbary coast, must be considered as leaving more than sufficient space for two of the largest fleets ever known mutually to pass without the smallest observation of one another. In returning to Syracuse, the British squadron, by steering up to the northward, while the enemy kept a southern coast for Alexandria, had the chance of falling in with them rendered still less likely than before.
Pleased with the information which they had received, though still unable implicitly to rely on the fact, after such repeated disappointments, not a moment was lost in carrying all possible sail for Alexandria.
On the 1st of August, at noon, they had the happiness to descry the port of Alexandria; with an aspect, however, far different from what it had before presented to their disappointed view. They perceived, with delight, that it now appeared filled with ships; and had, soon, the undescribable transport to behold the French flag flying on board several of them. A tumult of joy animated every bosom in the British squadron, at sight of the enemy. The humblest individual felt himself a hero; and had a great right so to feel, since every individual was eagerly prepared to risque his life for the safety and glory of his king and country. The brave admiral was calm, but no mortal can convey to another the sense of ineffable delight which glowed in every fibre of his frame. The bliss of his bosom, at this impressive moment, was that of extatic perfection; for, it admitted not the smallest doubt of success. His calmness was the result of his piety; for his noble heart was pouring forth to Heaven the sacred effusions of gratitude, anticipatory of the glorious conquest which he was about to prove the honoured medium of atchieving. This perfection of bliss is felt but by a few favoured mortals, and with none will it consent to abide. That it was, for a moment, felt by the immortal Nelson, when he first beheld the French fleet, a due consideration of his entire character, so powerfully presses on the mind of his biographer, that he cannot resist the temptation to tender it as an assumed fact.