“The admiral will to-morrow acquaint the commander-in-chief by a report whether the squadron can enter the port of Alexandria, or whether, in Aboukir Roads, bringing its broadside to bear, it can defend itself against the enemy’s superior force; and in case both these plans should be impracticable, he must sail for Corfu ... leaving the light ships and the flotilla at Alexandria.”

Brueys speedily discovered that the first plan was beset by grave dangers:  the entrance to the harbour of Alexandria, when sounded, proved to be most difficult for large ships—­such was his judgment and that of Villeneuve and Casabianca—­and the exit could be blocked by a single English battleship.  As regards the alternatives of Aboukir or Corfu, Brueys went on to state:  “My firm desire is to be useful to you in every possible way:  and, as I have already said, every post will suit me well, provided that you placed me there in an active way.”  By this rather ambiguous phrase it would seem that he scouted the alternative of Corfu as consigning him to a degrading inactivity; while at Aboukir he held that he could be actively useful in protecting the rear of the army.  In that bay he therefore anchored his largest ships, trusting that the dangers of the approach would screen him from any sudden attack, but making also special preparations in case he should be compelled to fight at anchor.[105] His decision was probably less sound than that of Bonaparte, who, while marching to Cairo, and again during his sojourn there, ordered him to make for Corfu or Toulon; for the general saw clearly that the French fleet, riding in safety in those well-protected roadsteads, would really dominate the Mediterranean better than in the open expanse of Aboukir.  But these orders did not reach the admiral before the blow fell; and it is, after all, somewhat ungenerous to censure Brueys for his decision to remain at Aboukir and risk a fight rather than comply with the dictates of a prudent but inglorious strategy.

The British admiral, after sweeping the eastern Mediterranean, at last found the French fleet in Aboukir Bay, about ten miles from the Rosetta mouth of the Nile.  It was anchored under the lee of a shoal which would have prevented any ordinary admiral from attacking, especially at sundown.  But Nelson, knowing that the head ship of the French was free to swing at anchor, rightly concluded that there must be room for British ships to sail between Brueys’ stationary line and the shallows.  The British captains thrust five ships between the French and the shoal, while the others, passing down the enemy’s line on the seaward side, crushed it in detail; and, after a night of carnage, the light of August 2nd dawned on a scene of destruction unsurpassed in naval warfare.  Two French ships of the line and two frigates alone escaped:  one, the gigantic “Orient,” had blown up with the spoils of Malta on board:  the rest, eleven in number, were captured or burnt.