o were in the
transports. He had no conception that Nelson would dare to attack him
the same evening, and conceived that he should have time to receive the
reinforcements for which he had applied.

Nelson resolved to attack immediately, and to push in between the French
ships and the shore at all hazards. "Before this time to-morrow" said
he, "I shall have gained a peerage or Westminster Abbey."

The number of vessels was equal on both sides, namely, thirteen ships
of war. The engagement lasted upwards of fifteen hours. All the crews
performed prodigies of valour. The brave Captain Du Petit-Thouars had
two of his limbs shot off. He ordered snuff to be brought him,
and remained on his quarter-deck, and, like Brueys, waited till a
cannon-ball despatched him. The entire French squadron, excepting the
two ships and two frigates carried off by Villeneuve, was destroyed.
Nelson had suffered so severely that he could not pursue the fugitives.
Such was the famous battle of Abukir, the most disastrous that
the French had ever sustained, and involved the most far-reaching
consequences. The fleet which had carried the French to Egypt, which
might have served to succour or to recruit them, which was to
second their movements on the coast of Syria,--had there been any to
execute,--which was to overawe the Porte, to force it to put up with
false reasoning, and to oblige it to wink at the invasion of Egypt,
which finally, in case of reverses, was to convey the French back to
their country,--that fleet was destroyed. The French ships were burned.
The news of this disaster spread rapidly in Egypt, and for a moment
filled the army with despair. Bonaparte received the tidings with
imperturbable composure. "Well," he said, "we must die in this country,
or get out of it as great as the ancients." He wrote to Kleber: "This
will oblige us to do greater things than we intended. We must hold
ourselves in readiness." The great soul of Kleber was worthy of
this language: "Yes," replied Kleber, "we must do great things. I am
preparing my faculties." The courage of these men supported the army,
and restored its confidence.

Bonaparte strove to divert the thoughts of the soldiers by various
expeditions, and soon made them forget this disaster. On the festival of
the foundation of the republic, he endeavoured to give a new stimulus to
their imagination; he engraved on Pompey's Pillar the names of the first
forty soldiers slain in Egypt. They were