Governor O'Hara writes that he is without intelligence from Egypt since the repulse of the French, the 21st March.

His Excellency J.H. Frere, Esq. &c. &c. &c. Lisbon.

It now becomes our duty to give a particular account of the defensive means of the French Admiral. The road of Algeziras, six miles distant from Gibraltar, is open to the eastward. It is shallow, with sunken rocks in several parts. The town is nearly in the centre, at the bottom of the Bay; about a third of a mile from which there is a tower standing on a point, and off this point is Isla Verda, whereon is a battery of seven long 24-pounders. About a mile to the southward of this battery is Fort Santa Garcia. The English ships had to pass these fortifications before they could reach the French line. The northward of the town was no less protected, having at the distance of about two-thirds of a mile the fort of San Jago, mounting five long 18-pounders, besides the tower Almirante. By referring to the diagrams, it will be manifest that the road is admirably protected by these fortifications, while those at a greater distance to the northward would be of some service in throwing shells, and in preventing the ships from working up to the attack. There were also fourteen large gun-boats, whose positions, as shown, were such as to form a serious opposition to an approaching enemy in light and variable winds.

Before we proceed to a description of the attack on the enemy's well-protected squadron, we must intreat the reader to pause, while we call his attention to the circumstance of the British ships, led by the gallant Hood, slowly and silently approaching the batteries of an enemy, strongly reinforced, perfectly prepared to receive them, and knowing well that they could not suffer any injury from the ships, while every shot from their cannon must tell. Silence, undoubtedly derives importance from the circumstances under which it is observed, and we cannot well refer to an instance where silence could have had a more solemn and impressive character than that which must have been observed on this occasion, until broken by the roar of the enemy's destructive engines.

Captain (now Admiral Sir Jahleel) Brenton, who was flag-captain of the Cæsar, has kindly transmitted the following particular and authentic account of all that took place on that eventful day, which afforded the enemy a short-lived triumph. We shall make no apology for giving it in his own words:

On Sunday, the 5th July 1801, a despatch-boat was seen in the S.E., and at two p.m. came alongside the Cæsar, with intelligence of a French squadron having anchored in Algeziras Bay, consisting of three sail of the line and a frigate.[30] The Admiral immediately decided on attacking them; and ordered the Thames frigate to proceed off St. Lucar to recall the Superb, and make sail with the Pompée, Hannibal, Spencer, Audacious, and Venerable, for the entrance of the Straits of Gibraltar; making the signal to prepare for action, and for anchoring by the stern.

The day was beautiful, with a light air from the westward. At eleven o'clock the ship's company was, as usual, assembled for the purpose of Divine service. The appearance of this congregation, under the peculiar circumstances in which they were placed,—proceeding, as they all knew they were, to engage in battle with the enemy, with the probability that many had but a few remaining hours to live,—was solemn and deeply impressive. The crew were all dressed in white, as is customary in warm climates; and being arranged according to their respective divisions on the quarter-deck, with the band and the marines on the poop, and the Admiral and the officers under the poop awning, an effect was produced highly animating, solemn, and appropriate; while the meek, devotional countenance of the well-tried Admiral indicated that he derived his confidence and support from its only true source.

Our chaplain, the Rev. Mr. Holliday, gave an excellent discourse, appropriate to the occasion; and it cannot be doubted but the impressions it made on that eventful day were deep and affecting, however temporary.

I had of course much communication with the Admiral during the course of this day and the ensuing night. He was, as usual, calm, cheerful, and collected; foreseeing, and endeavouring to provide for, whatever might be required during the struggle which we were anticipating. He was quite aware of the difficulties we had to encounter, and fully determined to overcome them if possible.[31]