Chapter XXIII: Introduction (8)

On the night of the 20th of July the three frigates, accompanied by the cutter and mortar-boat, and most of the boats of the squadron, stood in close to the land, to debark the shore party.

A strong gale in the offing, and a strong current against them, near the shore, prevented them from reaching the intended point of debarkation. At about half-past three on the morning of the 22d the squadron bore up for Santa Cruz, and soon after daylight was joined by the frigates and small craft. The unavoidable appearance of the latter off the coast gave the islanders the very warning it was so desirable, for the success of the expedition, they should not have. A consultation of the principal officers of the squadron now took place, and decided that an attack should be made on the heights immediately over the fort at the northeast part of the bay; and then, from that commanding position, to storm and carry the fort itself. At nine o’clock on the night of the 22d the frigates anchored inshore, off the east end of the town, and landed their men; but the latter finding the heights too strongly guarded to be attempted, re-embarked in the course of the night, without loss. The three line-of-battle ships had meanwhile kept under way, to batter the fort, by way of diversion; but, owing to calms and contrary currents, were unable to approach nearer than three miles.

Nelson, not being one to abandon an enterprise until after a stout struggle to accomplish it, resolved to give his seasoned men a chance at the Santa Cruz garrison as soon as possible. On the 24th the 50-gun ship Leander joined the squadron, having been sent to reinforce it, by Lord St. Vincent. Her captain had considerable experience as a cruiser in those parts, and his local knowledge was therefore valuable; while the additional force was very acceptable and added to the hopes of the attacking party.

On the afternoon of the 24th, at five o’clock, everything being in readiness, and secrecy no longer possible, the whole squadron anchored to the northeastward of the town: the line-of-battle ships about six miles off, and the frigates much nearer. At eleven o’clock at night, about 700 seamen and marines embarked in the boats of the squadron, 180 more in the Fox cutter, and about 75 on board a large boat that had just been captured; numbering altogether, with the small detachment of Royal artillery, about eleven hundred men. The different detachments of seamen, under the immediate command of their respective captains, the marines under Captain Oldfield, the artillery under Lieut. Baynes, and the whole force under command of the Rear-Admiral, in person, then pushed off for the shore.

Every precaution had been taken to keep the boats together, in order that the attack might be simultaneous; but the rough state of the weather, and the extreme darkness of the night, rendered it almost impossible for them to keep each other within sight or hearing. At about half-past one in the morning, the Fox cutter, with the Admiral’s boat, those of Captains Fremantle and Bowen, and one or two others, reached, undiscovered, within half gunshot of the head of the Mole, when, suddenly, the alarm bells on shore began to ring, and a fire was opened by many pieces of artillery and by infantry stationed along the shore.

Two shots raked the Fox, and another struck her between wind and water; so that she sank instantly. Of those on board no less than ninety-seven were lost; and among them her commander, Lieut. Gibson.

Another shot struck Rear-Admiral Nelson on the elbow, just as he was drawing his sword and stepping out of his boat. The wound completely disabled him, and he was carried back to his ship at once. Another shot sank the boat in which Captain Bowen was about approaching the Mole, and seven or eight seamen of her crew perished.

In spite of this very spirited and determined opposition, the British effected a landing, and carried the Mole, although it was defended by about three hundred men and six 24-pounders. Having spiked these guns, the English were about to advance, when a heavy fire of musketry and grape-shot from the citadel and from the houses at the Mole head began to mow them down by scores. Captain Bowen, of the Terpsichore, and his first lieutenant were almost immediately killed, and the whole party which landed then were either killed or wounded.

Meanwhile, Captain Trowbridge, of the Culloden, being unable to hit the Mole, the spot appointed for landing, pushed on shore under a battery close to the battery to the southward of the citadel.

Captain Waller, of the Emerald, and a few boats with him, landed at the same time, but the surf was so high that many of the boats put back; and all that did not were filled with water, which spoiled the ammunition in the men’s pouches.

Captain Trowbridge advanced as soon as he had collected a few men, accompanied by Captain Waller. They reached the great square of the town, the appointed rendezvous, in hopes of there meeting the Admiral and the rest of the landing party; but we have seen already how these were disposed of.

Captain Trowbridge now sent a sergeant, accompanied by two citizens of the place, to summon the citadel to surrender. No answer was returned, and the sergeant is supposed to have been killed on the way. As the scaling ladders which had been brought were lost in the surf, there was no way of storming the citadel, and after waiting there an hour, Trowbridge went to join Captains Hood and Miller, who, with a small body of men, had landed to the southwest. At daybreak it was found that Trowbridge was in command of about three hundred and forty survivors, consisting of marines, pikemen, and seamen with small arms. Having procured a small quantity of ammunition from some Spanish prisoners whom they had taken, Trowbridge resolved to try what could be done with the citadel without ladders, and then found that the streets were commanded by field-pieces, while an overwhelming force was approaching them by every avenue. The boats being all stove, there was no possibility of getting any reinforcements; they were short of ammunition, and their provisions had been lost in the boats.

Trowbridge now sent Captain Hood, with a flag of truce, to the Governor, expressing a determination to burn the town if the Spanish forces advanced, and proposing terms of capitulation, to the following effect: that the British should be allowed to re-embark, with their arms, taking their own boats, if saved, and if not, to be provided with others. And Captain Trowbridge engaged, in case of compliance, that the ships then before the town should not molest it, nor attack any one of the Canary Islands.

The Governor, Don Juan Antonio Guttierez, received Captain Hood and his message, being considerably astonished at receiving such a proposal from men whom he considered already in his power. Nevertheless, he accorded the terms, and Trowbridge marched to the Mole head, where he and his officers and men embarked, in boats furnished by the Spaniards.

The Governor supplied each of the retreating invaders with a ration of bread and wine, and directed that the British wounded should be received into the hospital. He, moreover, sent word to Admiral Nelson that he was at liberty to send on shore for, and purchase, fresh provisions.

This was a most disastrous defeat for Nelson, independent of the melancholy loss of life, which was almost as great as in the battle off Cape St. Vincent.

BATTLE OF CAMPERDOWN. 11TH OCTOBER, A. D. 1797.

Lord Viscount Duncan, who won the decisive naval battle of Camperdown, under rather extraordinary conditions, was born, as simple Adam Duncan, in Dundee, Scotland, in 1731; so that he was a veteran, as well in years as in service, when he gained the victory for which he will always be remembered.

As a Lieutenant he had served in the expedition to America, in “the French war;” being in the fleet which brought Braddock over to meet well earned defeat, as well as death. He was afterwards distinguished in the attack upon Belleisle, and in the capture of Havana. In the war of 1778 he was actively employed under Rodney. At the first battle of St. Vincent he was in command of a ship; the first to engage and capture a 70-gun ship.

After participating in many other actions of importance he was made a Rear-Admiral in 1759, a Vice-Admiral in 1793, the rank he held at Camperdown, and finally became full Admiral in 1799.

He was a man of great and unaffected piety, and excited the wonder and admiration of the Dutch Admiral, when a prisoner on board his flag-ship, after Camperdown, by summoning his ship’s company, and then going down on his knees and thanking God for the mercy vouchsafed them.

Admiral Duncan had, in 1797, the command of the North Sea English fleet. But that fleet had been so thinned by the secession of the disaffected ships which took part in the great mutiny of the English fleet, in that year--called the “Mutiny of the Nore,” and the “Mutiny at Spithead”--that, towards the end of May, he found himself at sea with only his own ship (the Venerable, 74) and the Adamant, 50.

It is necessary here to touch upon the causes which gave rise to a mutiny which has forever remained a disgrace to the Lords of the British Admiralty, and to the officers of the fleet serving under them at that time and for a long time before.

Avoiding any speculations or reflections, we will simply quote from a well known writer on naval affairs, Admiral Ekins, of the British Navy, who, quoting another writer in respect to the state of the British Navy about that time says, “in 1796 and the following years, after the naval force became so much expanded, the seamen were exceedingly deteriorated by the introduction of a large mass of Irish rebels, and the sweepings of all the gaols in England, on the home station; and by as large an introduction of foreigners on the stations abroad.”

This writer seems to intend to say, as he goes on, that the Irish, many of whom had filled offices of some kind at home, had, by plausible ways, acted with great influence on the minds of the British seamen whom they found on board their ships, and who were certainly suffering, at the time, from very oppressive regulations and fraudulent practices.

“These men entirely overturned the whole discipline and constitutional temperament of the navy. An honest zeal was changed for gloomy discontent: grievances were magnified into oppressions, and the man who had cheerfully executed his subordinate duties, in what he as yet considered his proper sphere, now aimed at an equality with, or superiority to, his own respected superiors. Thus arose the mutiny.”

“After the mutiny, numbers of the Irish were sent to foreign stations, as a punishment, and disseminated the same spirit.”

The poor Irish! They have for many generations fought the battles of the English, and of several other nations, but their case seems more unsettled than before. Without a permanent contingent from Irish recruits England would be badly off.

To continue with our quotation, “Patrick Little, who was Secretary to Parker, the leader of the mutiny of the Nore, had been an attorney in Dublin. He was sent to the West Indies, and, in a few months, was accused of fostering mutiny there. He was not convicted of the full offence charged, but was sent to receive six hundred lashes, did receive two hundred and fifty, and is said to have died, soon after, of the ‘prevailing fever.’

“The ships in the Mediterranean in 1797-’98-’99, were so short of men that foreigners of all descriptions were received; and I have often heard it stated that the fleet could not have gone to sea at times, if a certain commissioner at Lisbon, about that period, had not assumed the post of head of Police in that Metropolis, and made, occasionally, clean sweep of all individuals on the quays and adjacent streets, who were sent indiscriminately on board the British fleet; from whence none returned who were serviceable.”

This British Admiral proceeds to quote, “if the battle of the Nile had not been fought under the directing skill of such a chief, and under _all the effects of surprise_, I have heard Sir Thomas Louis declare that the result might have been very different. As it was, the defence was much more obstinate than is generally imagined, and much more protracted.” (In America we have been used to read English accounts of the battles of those days, because they were written in our own language.) He goes on to say, “I have understood it was certainly not the superiority of the crews which prevailed. The Vanguard was wretchedly manned; and but for the assistance of the Minotaur, which I saw acknowledged in Lord Nelson’s handwriting, her fate would have been precarious.”

These remarks are from high English cotemporary authority, we must remember.

In a note, Admiral Ekins says, “at the conclusion of the war in 1802, the Victorious, of 74 guns, returned to Europe after serving a considerable time in the East Indies; but, being in a bad state, from length of service, reached no further than Lisbon. She was there broken up. Part of her crew were put on board the Amazon, to be taken to England to receive their wages and return to their homes. But, unfortunately for them, poor fellows, before they arrived at Spithead, war had again declared itself, and they learned, with tears streaming from their eyes, that they were to be detained to serve another war. They remained nine or ten years in the Amazon, and were then distributed (the Amazon being worn out) to other ships. A few of them were afterwards killed serving in the boats of the Bacchante, in the Mediterranean. Perhaps the whole, certainly the greatest part, of these men were originally impressed against their will.”

These are only some authentic instances of the state of the personnel of the British Navy at this time; and the wonder is that the officers did so well with such material. Men were often nine or ten years without setting foot on shore.

And now to return to Admiral Duncan and his operations. Having, as we have said, been left with only the Venerable, his flag-ship (a name which reminds us of H. M. S. Pinafore), and the Adamant, he nevertheless proceeded to his station, off the Texel, to watch the Dutch, with whom they were then at war.

In the Texel lay at anchor the Dutch fleet of fifteen sail of the line (including 56s), under the command of Vice Admiral De Winter.

In order to detain the latter in port until a reinforcement should arrive, Admiral Duncan caused repeated signals to be made, as if to the main body of his fleet in the offing. This stratagem, it was supposed, had the desired effect. At length, about the middle of June, several line-of-battle-ships, in detached portions, joined the British Admiral, and the two fleets were again placed on an equal footing.

The Venerable, having been nearly five months at sea, and during a part of the time exposed to very boisterous weather, was in want of almost every description of stores. Others of the ships had also suffered by the recent gales of wind, and were short of provisions. Thus circumstanced, the Admiral, on the 3d of October, put into Yarmouth roads, to refit and re-victual, leaving off the Dutch coast a small squadron of observation, under the orders of Captain Trollope, of the Russell.

Early on the morning of October 9th an armed lugger, hired as a despatch vessel, came into the back of Yarmouth sands, with the signal flying for an enemy.

After great bustle and hurried preparations, Admiral Duncan put to sea, a little before noon, with eleven sail-of-the-line. With a fair wind he steered straight for his old station. On the following day three more ships joined him; so that he had seven 74s, and seven 64s, and two 50-gun frigates. There were also the Beaulieu, 40; the Circe, 28; and the Martin, sloop.

On the afternoon of the 11th the advanced ships were near enough to count twenty-two sail of square-rigged vessels, chiefly merchantmen, at anchor in the Texel.

Admiral Duncan, having received from Captain Trollope information of what course the enemy’s fleet was steering, now stood along shore to the southward.

At about seven on the following morning, the Russell, Adamant and Beaulieu were made out in the southwest, bearing at their mast-heads the signals for an enemy in sight, to leeward; and at about half-past eight a strange fleet, consisting of twenty-one ships and four brigs, made its appearance in that quarter.

The Dutch fleet consisted of four 74s, seven 64s, four 50s and two 44-gun ships, with two 32-gun frigates, two corvettes, four brig-sloops, and two advice-boats. Some accounts give more ships than this. Probably there were more.

These vessels, under the command of Vice-Admiral De Winter, had quitted the Texel at ten o’clock on the morning of the 10th of October, with a light breeze at about east by north. On the night of that day, the wind being then southwest, Captain Trollope’s squadron was discovered by them, to windward, and immediately chased; but the Dutch ships, being dull sailers, did not come near him. The Dutch fleet then stretched out toward the Meuse flat, where Admiral De Winter expected to be joined by a 64-gun ship. Not meeting her, he stood on to the westward, followed, or rather, as the wind was, preceded, by Captain Trollope’s squadron.

The wind continued westerly during the three succeeding days, and prevented the Dutch fleet from getting abreast of Lowestoffe until the evening of the 10th. The extreme darkness of that night induced Admiral De Winter to detach a few of his best sailing ships, in hopes that they would be enabled, by daybreak, to get to windward of, and capture or chase away, Captain Trollope’s squadron, which had followed them with great pertinacity. Just as the ships had made sail for that purpose some friendly merchant ships came into the fleet, and informed Admiral De Winter that the English fleet was within thirty miles of him, in the north-northwest, and steering east by south. The detached ships were instantly recalled; and the Dutch fleet, as soon as formed in compact order, edged away, with the wind northwest, towards Camperdown, the appointed place of rendezvous.

At daylight on the 11th the Dutch fleet was about thirty miles off the village of Scheveningen, in loose order, and speaking a friendly convoy, from which additional information was obtained.

At this time the English squadron of observation was seen to windward, with numerous signals flying, which convinced Admiral De Winter that the English fleet was in sight. He accordingly ordered his ships to their stations, and to facilitate the junction of the ships most to leeward, stood towards the land. The Wykerdens bearing east, about twenty miles off, the Dutch fleet hauled to the wind, on the starboard tack, and shortly afterwards discovered Admiral Duncan’s fleet in the north-northwest. The Dutch fleet then tacked, and, as soon as a close line was formed in the direction of northeast and southwest, the Dutch ships, throwing their main top-sails aback, resolutely awaited the approach of the British fleet.

Owing chiefly to inequality in point of sailing among the British ships, their fleet, when that of the Dutch appeared in sight, was in very loose order. To enable the dull sailers to take their proper stations, Admiral Duncan, at about eleven A.M., brought to, on the starboard tack; but soon afterwards observing that the Dutch ships were drawing fast inshore, he made signal for each ship to engage her opponent in the enemy’s line; then to bear up; and, lastly, for the van to attack the enemy’s rear. At about half-past eleven, the centre of the Dutch line then bearing southeast, distant four or five miles, the British fleet bore down, but, owing to some of the ships not yet being up, in no regular order of battle. Some were stretching across to get into their stations; others seemed in doubt where to go; and others, again, were pushing for the thickest of the enemy, without regard to stations.

A little before noon Admiral Duncan made signal that he should pass through the enemy’s line and engage him to leeward. This signal appears to have been kept flying but a short time, and the weather was so thick that the ships generally did not make it out. It was replaced by one for close action, which was kept flying for an hour and a half; till, indeed, it was shot away. About half-past twelve Vice-Admiral Onslow, whose ship, the Monarch, was leading the advanced or port division of the British fleet, cut through the Dutch line, between the Haerlem, 64, and the Jupiter, 74; pouring into each, in passing, a well-directed broadside. Then the Monarch, leaving the Haerlem to the Powerful, which followed her, luffed up close alongside the Jupiter, and these two ships became warmly engaged. The Jupiter carried the flag of Vice-Admiral Reyntjes. The rounding to of the Monarch afforded the Dutch Monnikendam frigate and Atalanta brig, which were in shore and in the rear, an opportunity to rake the English ship several times; and the very plucky little brig, in particular, did not retire until she had been much damaged by the Monarch’s shot. It was supposed she had been sunk by the 74, but she arrived safely, after the battle, in a Dutch port. The remaining ships of the English port division, especially the Monmouth, 64, and the Russell, 74, were soon in action with the Dutch rear-ships; among the last of which to surrender was the Jupiter, 74, the first to be engaged.

About twenty minutes after the Monarch, with Vice-Admiral Onslow’s flag, had broken the Dutch line, Duncan’s flag-ship, the Venerable, frustrated in an attempt to pass astern of the Vryheid, 74, De Winter’s flag-ship, by the great promptness of the States-General, 74, in closing the interval, ran under the stern of the latter, and soon compelled her to bear up; and the Triumph, the Venerable’s second astern, found herself closely engaged with the Wassenaer, the second astern to the States-General. Meanwhile the Venerable had ranged up close on the lee side of her first intended antagonist, the Vryheid, with whom, on the other side, the Ardent was also warmly engaged, and in front, the Belford, as she cut through the line astern of the Dutch Gelykheid, 64. The Dutch ships Brutus, 74, Rear-Admiral Bloys, and the Leyden, 64, and Mars, 44, not being pressed upon by opponents, advanced to the succor of their closely beset Admiral, and did considerable damage to the Venerable, as well as the Ardent, and others of the British van ships. Just at this critical period the Hercules, 64, which ship had caught fire on the poop, bore up and fell out of line, drifting down very near the Venerable.

Although, to the surprise of every one, the Dutch crew managed to extinguish the flames, yet, having thrown overboard their powder, they were obliged to surrender the ship, which had already had her mizzen-mast shot away, to the first opponent which challenged her. The serious damages which the Venerable had sustained obliged her to haul off and wear round on the starboard tack. Seeing this, the Triumph, which had compelled the Wassenaer to strike, approached to help finish the Vryheid; but that very gallant ship still made a good defence. At length, after being pounded at by the Venerable, Triumph, Ardent and Director, her three masts fell over the side, and disabled her starboard guns, when the overmatched but heroic Vryheid dropped out of the line of battle, an ungovernable hulk, and struck her colors.

A curious incident occurred in regard to the Wassenaer, 64, which, we have just seen, was compelled by the English Triumph, 74, to strike her colors, and fall out of the line. One of the Dutch brigs followed her, and fired at her, persistently, until she re-hoisted her colors. The Russel, 74, soon came up, however, and compelled the unfortunate Wassenaer again to strike to her. With the surrender of Admiral De Winter’s ship the action ceased, and the English found themselves in possession of the Vryheid and Jupiter, 74s, Devries, Gelykheid, Haerlem, Hercules and Wassenaer, 64s, Alkmaar and Delft, 50s, and the frigates Monnikendam and Ambuscade. The first of these frigates had been engaged by the Monmouth, 64, and was finally taken possession of by the Beaulieu, a 40-gun frigate of the English.

The Dutch van ship, the Beschermer, 50, dreading, very naturally, so strong an opponent as the Lancaster, 64, had early wore, and fallen out of the line. Her example was followed, with much less reason, by several of the other Dutch ships, which, although seen making off, could not be pursued, on account of the nearness of the land, and the shallowness of the water. The Venerable at this time sounded, and found only nine fathoms, and the shore, under their lee, which was that between Camperdown and Egmont, and about thirty miles northwest of Amsterdam, was only about five miles off.

The British ships now hastened to secure their prizes, so that they might, before nightfall, work clear of this dangerous coast.

The appearance of the victorious British fleet was very different from that which generally presented itself after a battle with the French or the Spaniards. Not a single lower mast, not even a topmast, in the British fleet, was shot away. Nor were the sails and rigging of the latter very much damaged.

It was at the hulls of their adversaries that the sturdy Dutchmen had directed their shot, and they did not fire until they were so near that no shot could well miss. All the English ships had shot sticking in their sides; many were pierced by them in all directions, and some of them had such dangerous wounds between wind and water that their pumps had to be kept going briskly. The Ardent had received about one hundred round shot in her hull; the Belliqueux, Belford, Venerable and Monarch had nearly as many. But the latter ship was so untouched aloft, that when her top-sail sheets, which had been shot away, were spliced and hauled home, no one looking at her from a little distance would have believed she had been in action.

With such fire, directed almost exclusively at the hulls, even by the feeble guns of that day, the loss of men could not be otherwise than severe. The British loss was 203 killed, and 622 wounded.

The captured ships were all either dismasted outright, or so injured in their masts that most of the latter fell as soon as the wind and sea, during the passage to England, began to act powerfully upon them. The Dutch ships’ hulls were also terribly cut up, and were so damaged as mostly to be brought into port to be exhibited as trophies, and then broken up.

Their loss was proportionately severe. The Dutch Vice-Admiral and the two Rear-Admirals were all wounded. Vice-Admiral Reyntjes died in London soon after, not of his wound, but of a chronic disease. Captain Holland, of the Wassenaer, was killed early in the action, which may account, partially, for her not holding out longer. Admiral De Winter’s captain, Van Rossem, had his thigh carried away by a round shot, and died almost immediately.

Many other Dutch officers were killed and wounded, and their loss, including that on board the Monnikendam frigate, which was not in the line, was 540 killed, and 620 wounded.

The actual force of the two fleets in this battle was, according to English accounts--not always very reliable at that time--

_British._ _Dutch._
Ships 16 16
Guns 1,150 1,034
Agg. weight of metal, lbs. 11,501 9,857
Crews 8,221 7,175
Size, tons 23,601 20,937

It is fair to say that the Dutch had several frigates and brigs abreast the intervals in their line, which did good service, raking the English ships as they came through and luffed up to leeward of the enemy’s line.

As it was, Admiral Duncan met and fought the Dutch fleet before a 98- and two 74-gun ships which De Winter had expected could join him.

Admiral De Winter, in his official report of the action, attributed his failure to four causes: first, the superiority of the British in large ships; secondly, their having been together at sea for many weeks, and hence well accustomed to work together; thirdly, the advantage of the attack, and fourthly, the early retreat of some of his ships, and the bad sailing of some of the others. He also expressed his belief that, if his signals had been obeyed as promptly as Admiral Duncan’s were, some of the English fleet would have been brought into the Texel, instead of the Dutch ships going to England. His statement about the English ships being so long together was not altogether correct. Captain Williamson, of the English ship Agincourt, 64, was court-martialed for his conduct in this action. He was accused of disobedience of signals and failure to go into action; and also, on a second charge, of cowardice or disaffection. The first charge was found proved, but not the second, and Williamson received a very severe sentence. It was proved on this trial that some of Admiral Duncan’s fleet did not know other ships in the same fleet. In the great fleet actions of those days, between ships-of-the-line, it was not customary for frigates and smaller ships to fire, or to be fired at, unless they provoked it; and the Dutch frigates, corvettes and brigs formed in this action a second line, and fought well. The Dutch were, indeed, an enemy not to be despised, and Admiral Duncan did full justice to the determined way in which most of them fought.

Scarcely was the British fleet, with its prizes, pointed to the westward, when a gale of wind came on, which scattered and endangered the whole of them. The injured masts fell, and the vessels leaked through shot-holes which in any ordinary weather would have been above the reach of the water.

On the 13th, the Delft, 50, a prize, exhibited a board with the words chalked on it “The ship is sinking.” Assistance was sent, and most of the men removed; but several of the prize crew and many of the prisoners perished in her, so quickly did she founder.

The Monnikendam frigate was wrecked on a shoal; but all on board were saved; and the Ambuscade frigate, being driven on the Dutch coast, was recaptured. One by one the rest of the scattered fleet and the prizes reached English ports.

Admiral Duncan was made a peer, and Vice-Admiral Onslow a baronet, for this action. Gold medals were presented to the flag-officers and captains; and the thanks of Parliament were voted to the fleet.

We often realize more of the real spirit of a fight from private accounts and comments than from the official reports; and we, therefore, add a few remarks and anecdotes from such sources. In the first place, the promptitude and decision of Admiral Duncan on meeting the Dutch fleet is especially to be noticed. “The British Admiral soon perceived that if he waited to form his line (the enemy drawing fast in with the land) there would be no action.” He, therefore, hoisted the signal to make all sail, break the line, and engage the enemy to leeward; and for close action, which last signal flew until it was shot away. This signal could not be mistaken, and, coupled with the gallant Admiral’s example, superseded all former ones.

If further proof of the superior efficacy of such a mode of attack be wanting, it is to be found not only in the declaration of the brave Dutch Admiral, but also in the testimony of Lord Nelson, who, although not acquainted with Lord Duncan, wrote to him, after the battle of the Nile, to tell him how “he had profited by his example.”

The Dutch Admiral De Winter said, “Your not waiting to form a line ruined me; if I had got nearer to the shore, and you had attacked, I should probably have drawn both fleets on, and it would have been a victory to me, being on my own coast.”

It is a fact that many of the vessels of Admiral Duncan’s fleet were intended for Indiamen, and not so stoutly built as men-of-war usually are; and many of his ships were in bad condition, and had not had time to complete their stores when called away from Yarmouth Roads to encounter the enemy.

Among other incidents of this action, it is recorded that, when the main-top-gallant mast of the Venerable was shot away, a seaman named Crawford went aloft with another flag, and hammer and nails, and nailed the flag to the topmast-head.

Had Duncan’s fleet been of as good material as that of Lord St. Vincent, it is probable that every Dutch ship would have been taken. When the action ceased the English fleet were in only nine fathoms of water, and a severe gale was nearly upon them; and the wonder is that they saved themselves and so many of their prizes, in their battered condition.

Captain Inglis, of the Belliqueux, of 64 guns, owing either to a long absence from active service, or an inaptitude to the subject, sometimes apparent in sea officers, had neglected to make himself a competent master of the signal-book, and on the morning of the day of the battle, when it became necessary to act with promptitude in obedience to signals, found himself more puzzled than enlightened by it, and, throwing it with contempt upon the deck, exclaimed, in broad Scotch: “D--n me, up wi’ the hellum, and gang intil the middle o’t!”

In this manner he bravely anticipated the remedy in such cases provided by Nelson, who, in his celebrated “Memorandum,” observes that, “when a captain should be _at a loss_ he cannot do _very wrong_ if he lay his ship alongside of the enemy.”

In strict conformity with this doctrine the Belliqueux got herself very roughly treated by the van of the Dutch fleet.

BATTLE OF THE NILE. 1ST. AUGUST, 1798.

This battle is called by the French _Aboukir_, the name of the bay in which it took place, and it is really a more proper name for the action, as only a small mouth of the Nile opened into the bay.

Beside the great naval action, Aboukir has given its name to a bloody and decisive land battle, which took place July 25th, 1799, between the French and a Turkish army. We may dispose of the latter briefly before taking up the more important sea fight, although in point of time the latter precedes it a year.

Bonaparte having learned of the landing of a Turkish army of 18,000 infantry at Aboukir, advanced to attack them, at the head of only about 6000 men. The Turks, who were mostly Janissaries, had a very considerable force of artillery, and were in part commanded by English officers. Being strongly intrenched at the village of Aboukir, they should have beaten off the French force easily; but, at the word of command from Bonaparte, Generals D’Estaing, Murat and Lannes attacked the entrenchments with desperate courage, and, after a terrible fight, which lasted some hours, the Turks were fairly driven into the sea. Thousands of bodies floated upon the bay, which the year before had borne the corpses of so many French sailors, who had perished from gun-shot or by fire. Perhaps for the first time in the history of modern warfare, an army was entirely destroyed.

It was on this occasion that Kleber, at the close of the fighting, seized Bonaparte in his arms, and embracing him, exclaimed: “General, you are the greatest man in the world!”

A year previous to the event just recorded, while Bonaparte was occupied in organizing his new conquest of Egypt, fortune was preparing for him one of the most terrible reverses which the French arms had ever met, by sea or by land.

What must have made it harder for him to bear was, that when leaving Alexandria to go to Cairo he had very strongly recommended Admiral Brueys, who commanded the fleet which had brought him to Egypt, not to remain at the anchorage of Aboukir, where the English could, he thought, take him at a disadvantage. In fact, Napoleon’s military mind foresaw just what afterwards happened.

Brueys at first thought of taking his fleet to Corfu, but lost precious time in waiting for news from Cairo, and this delay brought on the disaster which had a very important influence in moulding the destiny, not only of Egypt, but of the whole of Europe.

Learning of the departure of a large body of troops, and of a strong fleet, from Toulon, but in entire ignorance of the object of their expedition, Nelson, after vainly seeking for them in the Archipelago, in the Adriatic, at Naples, and on the coasts of Sicily, at last learned with certainty that they had effected a landing in Egypt. He made all sail at once for Alexandria, determined to fight the French fleet the moment it was found, and wherever it might be. He found it at Aboukir bay, just to the eastward of Alexandria, on the 1st of August, 1798; and we shall now give a general sketch of what ensued, and after that the particulars of this important action--from both French and English sources.

Although it was nearly six o’clock in the evening when the French fleet was discovered, Nelson resolved to attack immediately.

Admiral Brueys’ fleet was moored in the bay, which forms a pretty regular semicircle, and had arranged his thirteen ships-of-the-line in a curved line, parallel with the shore; having upon his left, or western flank, a little island, called also Aboukir.

Thinking it impossible that a ship-of-the-line could pass between this island and the last ship of his line, to take him in the rear, he contented himself with establishing upon the island a battery of twelve or fourteen guns; thinking, indeed, that part of his position so little liable to attack that he placed his worst vessels there.

But with an adversary like Nelson, most formidable, not only for the brilliancy of his conceptions, but for the skillful audacity with which he carried them out, the precautions which under ordinary circumstances would have been sufficient proved of no avail.

The British fleet comprised the same number of line-of-battle-ships as the French, but the latter had more smaller ships.

The British Admiral advanced intrepidly to the attack; a portion of his ships taking a course between the French line and the coast. The Culloden, the leading English ship, ran upon a shoal, and stuck fast; but, although her batteries were thus thrown out of the engagement which followed, her mishap piloted the others in. The Goliath, the Audacious, the Theseus and the Orion succeeded in passing inside the French line; penetrating as far as the Tonnant, which was the eighth of the French line, and thus engaged the French centre and left.

The rest of the English fleet advanced outside the French line, and so put the left and centre of it between two fires.

The battle was a terrible one, especially at the French centre, where the French Admiral’s ship, L’Orient, was stationed. The Bellerophon, one of Nelson’s best ships, was dismasted, terribly cut up, and obliged to haul off; and other English ships so damaged that they were obliged to withdraw.

In spite of the success of Nelson’s grand manœuvre, Brueys still had some chance of success, if the orders which he gave to his right, or eastern, wing had been carried out. But Admiral Villeneuve, who commanded there, did not make out Brueys’ signals, and remained in his position, at anchor, instead of getting under way, and doubling upon the English outside line, which would have thus put the latter, in their turn, between two fires.

Nelson’s ready mind had foreseen this danger; but Villeneuve, who was to lose another even more important battle at Trafalgar, lacked the instinctive resolution which causes a second in command, under such circumstances, to hasten to the relief of his chief, without formal orders.

Like Grouchy at Waterloo, he heard and saw the cannonade which was destroying the centre and left of the French line, without coming to the rescue; and while that part of the French fleet was performing prodigies of valor to uphold the honor of their flag, Villeneuve escaped, with four ships-of-the-line, thinking himself praiseworthy in saving them from the fate of the rest.

The unfortunate Brueys, though wounded, would not leave the deck. “An Admiral ought to die giving his orders,” he is reported, on good authority, to have said. Not long after this speech another shot killed him. The brave Captain Dupetit-Thouars had both legs carried away, but, like the Admiral, would not leave the deck, but remained there, taking snuff, and coolly directing operations, until another shot struck and killed him.

In fact, acts of heroism were performed by many of the officers and men on both sides.

About eleven o’clock at night the Orient, a huge and magnificent vessel, blew up, with a terrible explosion. By this time all the French vessels were destroyed or rendered worthless, except the four carried off by Villeneuve, and Nelson’s fleet was in no condition to pursue them.

Such, in brief, was the celebrated battle of Aboukir, or the Nile, the most disastrous the French navy had ever fought, and the military consequences of which were of such immense importance. It shut up the French and their army in Egypt, and abandoned them to their own resources.

France lost, and England gained, ascendancy in the Levant, and what was worse, it destroyed the _morale_ of the French navy--the effects being seen for years, and especially at Trafalgar.

And now we will proceed to give a more detailed account of the action.

Nelson’s fleet arrived off Alexandria on the morning of the 1st of August, at about 10 o’clock. They found there a forest of masts--belonging to transports and troopships, but few men-of-war. The harbor did not permit of the entrance of such large ships as composed the French line. The two British look-out ships, the Alexander and Swiftsure, also found the French flag flying on the forts and walls.

About noon the Zealous, which ship had been looking further to the eastward (just as the Pharos tower of Alexandria bore south-southwest, distant about 20 miles), signaled that sixteen ships-of-the-line lay at anchor, in line of battle, in a bay upon her port bow.

The British fleet instantly hauled up, steering to the eastward, under top-gallant sails, with a fine breeze from the northward and westward. These ships were in good discipline, and it did not take them long to clear for action.

Let us now turn to the French fleet, which they were soon to encounter. On the 1st of July, Admiral Brueys, with his fleet, brought to off the old port of Alexandria, and at once learned that a British squadron had been looking for him there. On hearing this, General Bonaparte desired to be landed, and the Admiral at once proceeded to disembark the General and 6000 men, in a creek near Marabout Castle, about six miles from the city of Alexandria.

Between the 1st and the 6th of July all the troops, with their baggage, were landed; and six vessels, armed _en flute_, went into Alexandria harbor, to protect the transports. As the ships-of-the-line drew too much water to enter, Admiral Brueys, with three frigates and 13 sail-of-the-line, stood off and proceeded to Aboukir bay, about 15 miles to the eastward of Alexandria. Reaching the bay, he anchored his ships very judiciously, in line ahead, about one hundred and sixty yards (Engl.) from each other, with the van-ship close to a shoal in the northwest, and the whole of the line just outside a four-fathom bank. It was thus considered that an enemy could not turn either flank.

The French ships, beginning at the van, were ranged in the following order: Guerrier, Conquérant, Spartiate, Aquilon, Peuple-Souvérain (all 74’s), the Franklin, 80, Rear-Admiral Blanquet, second in command; Orient, 120, (formerly called the Sans Culotte, and the flag-ship of Admiral Brueys, Rear-Admiral Gauteaume and Captain Casa-Bianca); next the Tonnant, 80; the Heureux, 74; the Mercure, 74; the Guillaume Tell, 80, and the Généreux and Timoléon, both 74’s.

Having thus moored his fleet in a strong position, the French Admiral awaited the issue of General Bonaparte’s operations on shore.

He also erected the battery already spoken of on Aboukir island, and four frigates--the Diane, Justice, Artemise and Sérieuse, with four brigs and several gunboats, were stationed along the bank, inside, or at the flanks of the line, so as best to annoy an enemy in his approach.

Yet Admiral Brueys appears to have been taken, at last, rather by surprise. No doubt the short interval which had elapsed between the departure of a reconnoitring fleet and the arrival of another led him to the belief that the English were aware of the proximity of the French fleet, and for want of sufficient strength declined to attack it. So that, when the Heureux, at 2 P. M. of the 1st of August, made the signal for a fleet in the northwest, the French ships were still lying at single anchor, without springs on their cables; and many of the crew of each ship were on shore, getting water. These were at once recalled; and some of the men of the frigates were sent to reinforce the crews of the largest vessels. The latter crossed top-gallant yards, as if about to get under way, but the French Admiral thought that his enemy would never attack at night, in such a position, and so he remained at anchor. When Nelson’s movements undeceived him, he ordered the ships to let go another bower anchor, and another one to be carried out to the S. S. E.; but very few of his ships found time to do either.

Before the English fleet approached the bay, each ship got a cable out of a gun-room port, and bent it to an anchor, and prepared springs, to give requisite bearing to her broadside. This was to enable the ships to anchor by the stern, in the best position for attacking the enemy, and for supporting each other.

As the British approached the bay, two French brigs stood out to reconnoitre, and one of them, the Alerte, stretched towards the shoal which lies off Aboukir island, in the hope that one or more of the English would follow her, and get on shore. But this _ruse de guerre_ was disregarded, and the English fleet stood on.

About half-past five the signal was made to form in line of battle, ahead and astern of the Admiral, as most convenient. By a little after six, in spite of some confusion from a new order of sailing, the line was pretty well formed, and eleven of the ships had rounded the shoal at the western side of the bay, and, with the wind on the starboard quarter, were rapidly approaching the French. The Culloden was astern of the rest; and far astern of the Culloden were the Alexander and Swiftsure, all three making every effort to get up into line.

At about twenty minutes past six the French hoisted their colors, and their two van ships, the Guerrier and Conquérant, opened a fire upon the two leading English ships, the Goliath and Zealous. The guns in the battery on the island also opened now, and fired also on the other ships, as they rounded the shoal. They ceased to fire, however, after the engagement became close, for fear of injuring their own van ships.

Soon the Goliath crossed the bows of the Guerrier, and ranging past her, let go her stern anchor, and brought up abreast of the small opening between the Conquérant and Spartiate. As she passed she kept up a spirited fire upon the two van ships, as well as engaging, from the other battery, a mortar-brig and a frigate, nearly abeam.

The Zealous, close astern of the Goliath, came in and anchored abreast the inner or port bow of the Guerrier, the French van ship. The English Vanguard and Minotaur then making for the starboard side of the enemy’s line, left the Theseus to follow the Zealous. This she did, passing between the latter and her opponent, and along past the Goliath, anchoring directly ahead of the latter, and, within two cables’ length of the Spartiate’s beam. The Orion, having passed inshore of the Zealous and Goliath, found herself assailed by the Sérieuse frigate, anchored inshore. As soon as the Orion’s starboard guns would bear, she opened on the frigate, and dismasted and sunk her in a few minutes; but she was in such shoal water that her upper works were dry. Passing on, the Orion passed the Theseus, and dropped her bower, so that she swung with her bows towards the Theseus. Then she veered away until between the Peuple Souvérain and the Franklin, firing into the port bow of the latter and the port quarter of the former.

The Audacious, having from the outside cut the opening between the Guerrier and the Conquérant, came to, with a small bower, and opened upon the Conquérant, at only about forty yards’ distance. In a few minutes the Audacious swung round the Conquérants bows, and brought up, head to wind, within about the same distance of her, on the port side.

Nelson had wisely resolved to complete the capture or destruction of the French van ships before he made any attempt upon those in the rear. He knew that the latter, from their leeward situation, would be unable to afford any immediate support to the former.

So, as the first step, the Vanguard anchored abreast of the Spartiate, within half pistol-shot, on her starboard side. The Minotaur anchored next ahead of the Vanguard, opposed to the Aquilon; and the Defence, still on the outer English line, brought up abreast of the Peuple Souvérain. The Bellerophon and Majestic passed on to close with the French centre and rear, on the outside.

These eight British and five French ships should be followed by themselves in their action.

The Guerrier receiving a raking broadside from each English ship which passed her bows, and a succession of the same from the judiciously placed Zealous, lost all three masts and bowsprit in a quarter of an hour, without being able to bring enough guns to bear to seriously damage any of her antagonists.

The French apparently did not expect any action on the port side, and were not prepared in that battery. The knowledge that French and Spanish ships seldom cleared for action on both sides, and also that the French must have allowed themselves room to swing, in the event of the wind’s blowing directly on shore, induced the English to pass between them and the shore, especially as the English ships generally drew less water, and thus all fear of getting aground was dispelled. The unfortunate Guerrier, having been completely cut to pieces, and having most of her crew disabled, was forced to strike.

The Conquérant, besides receiving fire from the ships which ran by her, had to withstand a portion of the fire of the Theseus, and all that of the Goliath and the Audacious, the latter, for a time, in a raking position. At the end of about twelve minutes, being dismasted, and from her position unable to make a suitable return fire, the Conquérant hauled down her flag. She struck, indeed, before the Guerrier did. In doing this the Goliath and Audacious were considerably damaged, principally in spars and rigging.

Next we come to the Spartiate. She sustained, for some time, the fire of both the Theseus and the Vanguard, with occasional shots from the quarter guns of the Audacious and the bow guns of the Minotaur. Her masts were soon shot away, and she surrendered at about the same time as the Guerrier.

The Aquilon, astern of the Spartiate, had a slanting position in the line, and made a good fight, raking the Vanguard with dreadful effect, but was at last overcome by the batteries of the Minotaur. The Vanguard was very much injured. The unusually powerful broadside of the Minotaur (she being the only ship in either fleet which had 32-pounders in the upper battery), aided by the occasional fire of the Theseus, within the line, soon dismasted the Aquilon, and compelled her surrender. This occurred about half-past nine.

Next we come to the Peuple Souvérain. She was subjected to the close and well-sustained fire of the Defence, and occasional raking broadsides from the Orion, as the latter ship lay on the Peuple Souvérain’s inner quarter. This ship, having had her fore and main masts shot away, and being, in other respects, greatly disabled, cut her cable and dropped out of the French line, anchoring again abreast of the Orient, and about two cables’ length from her.