The Battle and the Breeze

by R. M. Ballantyne

When Captain Berry, perceiving the boldness of the plan, said, “If we succeed, what will the world say?” Nelson replied, “There is no if in the case; that we shall succeed is certain: who may live to tell the story is a very different question!”

Nelson possessed in an eminent degree the power of infusing into his men the irresistible confidence that animated his own bosom. There was probably not a man in the British fleet who did not sail into Aboukir Bay on that memorable day with a feeling of certainty that the battle was as good as gained before it was begun. The cool, quiet, self-possessed manner in which the British tars went to work at the beginning must have been very impressive to the enemy; for, as they advanced, they did not even condescend to fire a shot in reply to the storm of shot and shell to which the leading ships were treated by the batteries on an island in the bay, and by the broadsides of the whole French fleet at half gunshot-range, the men being too busily engaged in furling the sails aloft, attending to the braces below, and preparing to cast anchor!

Nelson’s fleet did not all enter the bay at once, but each vessel lost no time in taking up position as it arrived; and as, one after another, they bore down on the enemy, anchored close alongside, and opened fire, the thunder of the French fleet was quickly and increasingly augmented by the British, until the full tide of battle was reached, and the shores of Egypt trembled under the incessant rolling roar of dreadful war; while sheets of flame shot forth and rent the thick clouds which enwrapped the contending fleets, and hung incumbent over the bay.

An attempt was made by a French brig to decoy the English ships towards a shoal before they entered Aboukir Bay, but it failed because Nelson either knew the danger or saw through the device.

It seemed as if the Zealous (Captain Hood) was to have the honour of commencing the action, but Captain Foley passed her in the Goliath, and successfully accomplished that feat which the French had deemed impossible, and had done their best to guard against. Instead of attacking the leading ship—the Guerrier—outside, he sailed round her bows, passed between her and the shore, and cast anchor. Before he could bring up, however, he had drifted down to the second ship of the enemy’s line—the Conquerant—and opened fire. It had been rightly conjectured that the landward guns of the enemy would not be manned, or even ready for action. The Goliath, therefore, made short and sharp work of her foe. In ten minutes the masts of the Conquerant were shot away! The Zealous was laid alongside the Guerrier, and in twelve minutes that vessel was totally disabled. Next came the Orion (Sir J. Saumarez), which went into action in splendid style. Perceiving that a frigate lying farther inshore was annoying the Goliath, she sailed towards her, giving the Guerrier a taste of her larboard guns as long as they would bear upon her, then dismasted and sunk the frigate, hauled round towards the French line, and anchoring between the Franklin and the Souverain Peuple, received and returned the fire of both.

In like manner the Audacious (Captain Gould) justified her name by attacking the Guerrier and Conquerant at once, and, when the latter struck passed on to the Souverain Peuple.

The unfortunate Guerrier was also worthy of her title, for she bore the brunt of the battle. Every ship that passed her appeared to deem it a duty to give her a broadside before settling down to its particular place in the line, and finding its own special antagonist or antagonists—for several of the English ships engaged two of the enemy at once. The Theseus (Captain Miller), after bringing down the main and mizzen-masts of the Guerrier, anchored inside the Spartiate and engaged her.

Meanwhile, on the other side of this vessel, Nelson’s ship, the Vanguard, bore down on the foe with six flags flying in different parts of the rigging, to guard against the possibility of his colours being shot away! She opened a tremendous fire on the Spartiate at half pistol-range. The muscular British tars wrought with heroic energy at the guns. In a few minutes six of these guns, which stood on the fore-part of the Vanguard’s deck, were left without a man, and three times afterwards were these six guns cleared of men—so terrific was the fire of the enemy.

Other four of the British vessels sailed ahead of the Vanguard and got into action. One of these—the Bellerophon (Captain Darby)—engaged the gigantic L’Orient, which was so disproportionately large that the weight of ball from her lower deck alone exceeded that from the whole broadside of her assailant. The result was that the Bellerophon was overpowered, 200 of her men were killed or wounded, all her masts and cables were shot away, and she drifted out of the line. Her place, however, was taken by the Swiftsure, which not only assailed the L’Orient on the bow, but at the same time opened a steady fire on the quarter of the Franklin.

Before this time, however, the shades of night had fallen on the scene. The battle began at half-past six in the evening—half-an-hour afterwards daylight was gone, and the deadly fight was lighted only by the lurid and fitful flashing of the guns.