The Dangerous Book of Heroes

by Conn Iggulden

  Although the fall of Egypt was not known to Nelson, he was certain that Bonaparte was somewhere in the east and continued searching. On August 1, 1798, the lookout of HMS Zealous reported the topmasts of the French fleet in Aboukir Bay. Brueys had anchored hard up against sandbanks along the western side of the bay to force any attacking ships to approach from the east. He’d also landed guns on Aboukir Island at the head of the bay. Accordingly, Brueys had the majority of his men manning all the guns on the eastern, starboard, side of his ships. It was a tactical position of great strength. Nelson summoned his captains to the Vanguard.

  In the anchorage were more than twenty-two French warships; thirteen ships of the line comprising the 120-gun flagship L’Orient, three 80s, and nine 74s, as well as four large frigates, two brigs, three bomb ketches, and several gunboats. Approaching from the sea, the sun about to set, were fifteen British warships, comprising thirteen 74s, one 50, and a brig.

  Brueys did not expect Nelson to attack that evening—in the dark, in an uncharted bay, in shallow water, outnumbered and outgunned. However, at 5:30 P.M. Nelson signaled his fleet: “Form line of battle as most convenient.” The 74s swept past Aboukir Island into the darkening bay.

  Almost immediately, the Culloden went aground to become a helpless spectator of the battle. Brueys now had 250 more guns than Nelson. As the remaining twelve British 74s reached the head of the French line, they split into two divisions; six and the 50 taking positions along the eastern side of the French fleet as expected, while the other six proceeded along the western side—between the French and the sandbanks. Nelson had told his captains: “Where there is room for a French 74 at single anchor to swing, there is room for a British 74 to attack.” There was. The first shot was fired at 6:28 P.M.

  Despite his careful preparations, Brueys’s ships were attacked on both sides. Nelson leapfrogged his ships along the enemy line, sweeping the ships from port and starboard with broadside after terrible broadside, destroying or capturing one ship after another. The Conquérant surrendered after twelve minutes. By 8 P.M., four more had surrendered. Nelson was once again wounded, cut to the bone above his left, good eye. Bleeding heavily and severely concussed, he was carried below to the surgeon and the horrors of the cockpit.

  In L’Orient, Brueys was also injured, both his legs cut off below the knee by shot. The French ships surrendered or fought on until they were incapable, mastless hulks. After intense gunnery from HMS Bellerophon, Swiftsure, and Alexander, L’Orient caught fire. Brueys was dead. In the Vanguard, Nelson insisted on being helped back to the quarterdeck.

  The fire spread in the enormous French flagship until the flames illuminated the battle like a giant candle. It was soon evident that there could be only one outcome. Nelson and the captains of nearby British ships lowered their boats to rescue the French seamen leaping into the dark waters. Shortly after 10 P.M. the fierce blaze reached the magazine.

  The mighty L’Orient disintegrated in a shattering explosion that was heard thirteen miles away in Alexandria. Flying debris set the Swiftsure and the Alexander briefly alight. All ships stopped firing for about twelve minutes, in awe at the destruction. With L’Orient went gold plate and bullion looted by Bonaparte from Malta. Only seventy of her crew were found by the British boats.

  The great battle resumed, continuing through the warm night. The perspiring crews, stripped to the waist with handkerchiefs bound over their ears, worked their guns continuously. The tongues of flame illuminated the darkness like a series of paintings. By midmorning, eleven French ships of the line had been captured or destroyed, the two that escaped being captured shortly afterward. Two frigates were also destroyed. It’s estimated that 1,700 French seamen lost their lives, 1,500 were wounded, and 3,000 taken prisoner. Not one British ship was lost, although 218 men were killed and 678 wounded.

  The battle of the Nile is the most comprehensive naval victory ever achieved, and its effects were immense and far-reaching. The Royal Navy had taken control of the Mediterranean. Bonaparte and his Army of the East were isolated, and the Egyptians and Arabs willingly turned against him. Eventually, Bonaparte abandoned his army and fled back to France in a fast frigate, a Muslim no longer. A force from India under General Abercrombie later disposed of this army. In thanks to Nelson and Abercrombie for their liberation from the French, Mohammad Ali, the viceroy of Egypt, presented to Britain Cleopatra’s Needle, from 1500 B.C. It stands today on the Victoria Embankment in London.

  Other countries saw that the French could be defeated, inspiring Austria and the Italian states to resume the struggle. Although there would be a further seventeen years of warfare, Nelson and the navy had shown that victory was possible.

  Overnight, Nelson became a hero to Britain and Europe. He was created Baron of the Nile and of Burnham Thorpe, a wonderfully unlikely combination of place-names.

  Nelson’s private life also changed. In Naples, he began the affair that lasted the rest of his life—with Emma Hamilton, wife of British ambassador William Hamilton, Nelson’s friend. The affair caused society outrage, yet the three lived much of their lives together and remained steadfast friends until their deaths. With Emma, Nelson had his only child, Horatia.

  In 1801, a “treaty of armed neutrality” among several Baltic Sea nations led by Russia had closed the Baltic trade to Britain. The trade in timber, flax, tar, and other supplies was vital for the navy to continue the fight against Bonaparte. Russia seized three hundred British merchant ships, while Denmark closed all her ports. The treaty was effectively an alliance with France. Britain sent a fleet to the Baltic under Admiral Hyde Parker with Nelson, now vice admiral, second in command.

  Negotiations between Parker and the Danish court failed in March, and an attack on Copenhagen began. The Danes had protected their port capital by anchoring their ships in an unbroken line of floating batteries and gunboats between the city and the Oresund Strait, which led out to sea. There would be no British attack to both sides of their fleet here. The channel markers had also been removed, yet Nelson had a plan.

  The Danes expected the British to attack from the north, the main channel into Copenhagen, whereas Nelson planned to sail a division of ships through a narrow channel outside and attack from the south. Admiral Parker’s division would still attack through the main channel from the north to engage the formidable guns of Fort Trekroner.

  Nelson shifted his flag to the 74-gun Elephant for the battle. In all, the Danish had 380 guns, the British 400, but the Danish had immense superiority in the caliber—the size—of their guns. In addition, Fort Trekroner, the ships, floating batteries, and gunboats were continually replenished with fresh men and ammunition from Copenhagen. Nelson relied upon the superior rate of fire of his seamen to counter these disadvantages.

  On the morning of April 2, Nelson sailed ten 74s, one 54, and one 50 to the southern and central Danish defenses. Positioned behind the Elephant in the 54-gun Glatton was Captain Bligh of the Bounty mutiny. Seven bomb ketches firing mortars were anchored beyond the Elephant.

  Battle commenced at 10:05 A.M. but Nelson’s plan had to be changed immediately. Parker could not bring his ships down from the north because of a dead foul wind, while three of Nelson’s 74s went aground in the unmarked channel and were out of the battle. Nelson now had only seven 74s and fewer guns to attack the Danes. He sent five frigates to the north to prevent any Danish ships from coming south against him.

  In the chill Baltic spring, the great guns thundered outside Copenhagen, the Danish putting up a strong resistance. Firing continued uninterrupted until 1 P.M., when Admiral Parker sent his famous signal of recall.

  In fact Parker was not retreating; he was shouldering the blame for what he thought might become a defeat. Both Danes and Britons were suffering heavy losses in what was simply a slugging match, for no further maneuvering was possible in the confined waters. By his signal, Parker gave Nelson the opportunity to withdraw under his commander’s orders if he wished.

  Nelson said
to the captain of the Elephant: “You know, Foley, I have only one eye—I have a right to be blind sometimes.” Then he put his telescope to his blind right eye and exclaimed: “I really do not see the signal!” The expression “turning a blind eye” entered the language.

  Gradually the fire from the Danish ships and batteries slackened. The flagship Dannebrog caught fire, struck her colors, and drifted out of control. Like L’Orient, she blew up, but British boats were prevented from rescuing her crew because of fire from the Danish shore batteries. By 2:30 P.M. the Danish firing had almost stopped. Nelson offered a truce, which at just after 4 P.M. was accepted, and an armistice was later negotiated. Seventeen Danish ships were captured, burned, or destroyed, with a loss of almost 1,700 men killed or wounded and 3,500 taken prisoner. Yet again Nelson lost not one vessel, although 941 British were killed or wounded.

  It was a brutal battle and one that both nations—usually friends and allies—regretted having to fight. It’s indicative that only two honors were awarded for the battle of Copenhagen. Nelson was made viscount and his second in command, Rear Admiral Graves, invested with the Order of the Bath. Yet the victory was vital to the progress of the war against France. It kept the Scandinavian countries and Russia neutral, it maintained Britain’s Baltic trade, and it affirmed that, although Bonaparte’s armies ruled the continent, the Royal Navy controlled the seas. French military dictatorship ended where the sea was deep enough for Britain to float a boat.

  The 1802 Peace of Amiens lasted barely a year before Bonaparte broke it. He had used the peace to rebuild his navy, invade Switzerland, the Netherlands, and Elba, and assemble some 7,000 barges to carry the 200,000-strong Grand Army across the English Channel to invade Britain. In May 1803 war resumed.

  Nelson hoisted his flag in the refitted Victory as Vice Admiral of the Red—the famous red ensign now used by the merchant navy. Saint Vincent was at the Admiralty, Admiral Cornwallis was in charge of the English Channel and Western Approaches, and Nelson was given charge of the Mediterranean.

  Despite controlling the seas, Britain remained in a critical situation. A change of wind might blow the Royal Navy blockading fleets away and allow the rebuilt French and Spanish fleets out of port. If they could combine and take control of the English Channel for a single day, Bonaparte might slip his army across and French boots would march up Whitehall.

  Cornwallis’s brief was to blockade the French fleet in Brest and control the Western Approaches, while Admiral Keith’s division held the channel. Nelson’s orders were to blockade the French fleet in Toulon. With Saint Vincent at the Admiralty, those four men controlled the destiny of the world. A single mistake, a single error of judgment, would have tipped Europe into a military abyss.

  Nelson commanded the Victory, nine ships of the line, a frigate, and two sloops. Captain of the Victory was Thomas Hardy, Nelson’s old friend who’d been present at both the Nile and Copenhagen. For two years the blockades were maintained, two years in which the British fleets were continuously at sea. Such a time at sea without refitting in a dockyard has never been surpassed by any fleet. Those square-rigged sailing ships, constantly patrolling the channel, off Brest, off Cadiz, and in the Mediterranean, were the “wooden walls” of Britain. Nelson never left the Victory, though his eyesight deteriorated further and his stomach wound bothered him constantly.

  Finally, in April 1805, under the very capable Admiral Villeneuve, the French fleet slipped out of Toulon while the majority of Nelson’s ships were taking on water. A great chase ensued—over the western Mediterranean, through the Strait of Gibraltar, across the Atlantic to the West Indies, and back to Ferrol in northern Spain by the end of July. Yet nothing had changed. The French fleet still avoided major action, the French army remained camped by the channel ports, and the invasion barges sat waiting. Nelson was given leave and set foot off the Victory for the first time in two years.

  At the end of August, Villeneuve slipped his fleet south to Cadiz, where, with Spanish reinforcements, it numbered more than forty ships. Bonaparte ordered him to combine with the fleet in Brest and gain control of the English Channel.

  Nelson was recalled from leave. When he rejoined the Victory at Portsmouth, a large crowd collected. Some were in tears, some cheered and lifted their children high to see him, others knelt and blessed him as he passed. He said to Hardy: “I had their huzzas before. I have their hearts now.” The Victory arrived off Cadiz on September 28.

  The combined French and Spanish fleets under Villeneuve’s command put to sea on October 19 and 20 and assembled south of Cadiz. The British under Nelson lay out of sight, while his inshore frigates relayed the enemy’s movements.

  During the night, Nelson maneuvered his fleet. At daybreak on the twenty-first they were positioned so that if Villeneuve continued south to Gibraltar, he would have to fight, if Villeneuve sailed northwest to the channel, he would have to fight, and if Villeneuve returned to Cadiz, he would also have to fight. Importantly, Nelson had maintained the commanding, windward position.

  As Nelson had predicted, when Villeneuve sighted the twenty-six waiting British ships at dawn he altered course to return to Cadiz. At 5:40 A.M. Nelson signaled his captains: “Form the order of sailing in two columns.” This signal was repeated at 6 A.M. so that the captains knew this was also the order of battle.

  In the Victory, Nelson commanded the northern column of eleven ships of the line, which included the Temeraire. Vice Admiral Collingwood, second in command in the Royal Sovereign, commanded the southern column of fifteen ships of the line. A latecomer, the 64-gun Africa, was ten miles to the northwest, sailing to join Nelson.

  His Majesty’s ships were Victory, Royal Sovereign, Britannia, Temeraire, Revenge, Prince, Tonnant, Belle Isle, Mars, Neptune, Spartiate, Defiance, Conqueror, Defense, Colossus, Leviathan, Ajax, Achille, Bellerophon, Minotaur, Orion, Swiftsure, Polyphemus, Agamemnon, Dreadnought, Thunderer, and Africa.

  East and downwind of the Royal Navy, the French and Spanish fleet of thirty-three ships of the line sailed northward in a curved formation, roughly two abreast. It included Villeneuve’s flagship, the Bucentaure, and the largest and second-largest warships in the world, the 130-gun Santissima Trinidad and the 112-gun Santa Ana. The enemy fleet had superiority by six ships of the line, 474 guns, and 8,124 men. In addition, Villeneuve had seven frigates to Nelson’s four.

  A total of seventy-one warships, sixty of them ships of the line, slowly converged at the shoals of Cape Trafalgar off Spain on the morning of October 21, 1805—the day ever after known as Trafalgar Day. Although the wind was only light from the west-northwest, drawing the fleets together at just one and a half knots, the swell was gradually increasing, indicating a coming gale. It would blow hard by the end of the day. The British ships—flying the white ensign for easy identification—set all sail, including stunsails, instead of the usual, reduced fighting sails so as to close on the enemy as quickly as possible. In the tense waiting Nelson remarked to his officers: “I’ll now amuse the fleet,” and so was hoisted the most famous naval signal ever made.

  It began as “Nelson confides that every man will do his duty.” At the suggestion of another officer Nelson amended it to “England confides that every man will do his duty” (there was a single code flag meaning “England” but not for “Britain” or “Nelson”) and, at the suggestion of the flag lieutenant in order to use even fewer flags, it was finally hoisted as “England expects that every man will do his duty.” The fleet cheered, although Collingwood said: “I wish Nelson would stop signaling. We all know well enough what we have to do.”

  The plan of battle, an improvement on the battle of Saint Vincent, was already agreed. Instead of one column, two British columns would break the enemy line from windward, turn port and starboard to lay alongside from leeward, and so prevent the enemy from escaping downwind. It was simple and brilliant. Nelson’s last words to his senior officers were: “No captain can do very wrong if he places his ship alongside that of an enemy.”r />
  In his diary he wrote the prayer he had composed that morning: “May the Great God, whom I worship, grant to my country and for the benefit of Europe in general a great and glorious victory, and may no misconduct in anyone tarnish it, and may humanity after victory be the predominant feature in the British Fleet. For myself, individually, I commit my life to Him who made me and may His blessing light upon my endeavours for serving my country faithfully. To Him I resign myself and the just cause which is entrusted to me to defend. Amen, amen, amen.”

  It was Collingwood in the 100-gun Royal Sovereign who first came under fire, just before noon, from the 112-gun Santa Ana. Minutes later the Victory, feinting as though to attack the head of the enemy fleet, came under fire from several ships. Her wheel was destroyed and she had to be steered by emergency tackle from below. The Royal Sovereign broke the enemy line astern of the Santa Ana, the eighteenth ship, into which Collingwood fired double-shotted broadsides.

  Nelson steered the Victory back toward the 120-gun Santissima Trinidad and the 80-gun Bucentaure, thirteenth in the line. After sustaining twenty minutes of unanswered fire, the Victory passed astern of the Bucentaure to fire a running port broadside, double-shotted, through Villeneuve’s stern windows and the entire length of the vessel. French reports state that twenty guns were destroyed and four hundred men killed or wounded from that first broadside alone.

  The Victory passed on, turned alongside the Redoutable, and fought that ship with her starboard guns while her port guns fought the Santissima Trinidad. The Redoutable under Captain Lucas was one of the best-manned French ships, and it was hard going for the Victory—she was almost boarded—until HMS Temeraire approached and fired a series of broadsides into the Redoutable. Then the Fougueux came to the Redoutable’s assistance and the four vessels fought it out for a further three hours. One after another, the British ships broke the line, turned, and engaged one or more enemy ships, until the ships and the sea itself were obscured by greasy cannon smoke.