with the captains under his command, to converse with them on the various modes of attacking the enemy under different circumstances; and, on one of these occasions, Sir James Saumarez, who had seen the evil consequences of doubling on the enemy, especially in a night action, had differed with the admiral in that plan of attack, saying that ’it never required two English ships to capture one French, and that the damage which they must necessarily do each other might render them both unable to fight an enemy’s ship that had not been engaged; and, as in this case two ships could be spared to the three-decker, everyone might have his opponent.’”

Inasmuch as Nelson, in pursuance of his previously announced idea, had himself in the flag-ship—­the sixth to enter action—­set the example of doubling, by anchoring on the side of the enemy’s line opposite to that of his first five ships, and in doing so had deliberately taken position on one side of a French vessel already engaged on the other, Saumarez’s remark was substantially a censure, inopportune to a degree singular in a man of his kindly and generous temper; and its reception by Nelson is not a cause for surprise.  On the other hand, as a matter of tactical criticism, based upon tactical conceptions previously adopted, if we assume it to be true that two British ships were not needed to capture one French, it may yet be confidently affirmed that to attack with decisively superior force a part of the enemy’s order—­to combine in short—­is shown by experience to attain the same degree of success more certainly and at less cost than the simple distribution of effort advocated by Saumarez.  To double, and to beat in detail, remained the ideal of Nelson, as it had been of Howe.  It was by him applied then and afterwards to all cases, small or great, actual or supposed.  To it he chiefly owed his dazzling successes, and this divergence of ideals marks the difference in professional insight which mainly determines the relative positions of Nelson and Saumarez in naval biography.  It indicates the distinction between the great general officer and the accomplished and resolute division or corps commander.

At the Battle of the Nile Saumarez received the only wound that ever fell to him throughout his numerous meetings with the enemy, being struck on the thigh and side by a heavy splinter, which had killed two officers before reaching him.  The total loss of his ship was forty-two killed and wounded, out of a crew of six hundred.  Ten days after the action he was ordered to take charge of six of the prizes, which had been partly repaired, and with seven of the fleet to convoy them to Gibraltar.  At the same time he was notified that the Orion was to go home as soon as this duty was performed.  A more charming prospect can scarcely be imagined than this returning to his family after a long absence, fresh from the completest achievement ever wrought by the British navy; but even his tranquil temper,