There was also the matter of timing. When the French fleet were first sighted Nelson's squadron were some 9 miles away. With the moderate northerly breeze the British seventy-fours could only travel around 5 knots and it would therefore take the leading ships nearly two hours to reach the enemy. By the time the trailing ships arrived in the bay the sun would be setting, and much of the battle would have to be fought in the dark. Apart from the obvious dangers of navigating in unknown waters in bad light, there was the hazard of mistaking one's own ships for the enemy in a night action. When the French admiral De Brueys was told that a British fleet had been sighted he certainly assumed that they would wait till the next morning before attacking.
However, in spite of the obvious dangers, Nelson was determined to attack immediately. This was not a rash or gung-ho decision but was based on a number of factors which he had in his favour. Critical was the fact that the wind was currently blowing steadily from north-north-west which meant that his ships would have the wind behind them as they headed into the bay. If he waited till the next day he not only gave the French many more hours to prepare for battle but he might find that the wind had dropped or had changed direction, forcing his ships to tack up to the enemy. Equally important was the fact that Nelson had total faith in his captains and the experience and morale of the men under their command. 1 knew what stuff I had under me, so I went into the attack with only a few ships, perfectly sure that the others would follow me, although it was nearly dark.'
So at 3 pm he hoisted the signaclass="underline" 'Prepare for battle and for anchoring by the stern.' On the Bellerophon the crew went into the much-practised routine of clearing for action, a routine which transformed the ship from a floating barracks into a fighting machine. A total of 550 men and boys went about their appointed tasks in a disciplined and orderly manner. Hardly any orders were necessary. (Years later Napoleon would tell the Bellerophon's captain that he was astonished by the lack of shouted commands on the ship when she was getting under way.) Nets were rapidly rigged above the quarterdeck and upper deck to protect the crew from falling splinters, wooden blocks and rigging. Hammocks were brought up from below and stowed in rails around the decks as a shield against musket shot and flying splinters. The decks were scattered with sand to prevent bare feet slipping on blood, and were wetted to reduce the risk of fire. Under the forecastle the cook extinguished the galley fire as a safety precaution.
Below deck a visitor would scarcely have thought they were on the same ship so great was the transformation. In normal circumstances much of the after part of the ship was occupied by individual cabins in which the officers slept and worked or read when not on deck. Each cabin contained a hanging cot, a chair or folding stool, a small table or desk and perhaps a washstand. A hat and heavy weather coat were hung on a hook, and other clothes would be folded in a sea chest. Smaller items scattered around or held in racks might include a number of leather-bound books (many officers were avid readers), a sextant, quill pens, ink and notebooks, and perhaps a portrait miniature of the officer's wife or sweetheart. All this was swept away in a matter of minutes. The walls of most of the cabins were no more than canvas screens supported on wood battens. These were removed and, together with all the furniture, and personal possessions, were carried down below into the hold. Similarly the fine furniture in the great cabin occupied by the captain was removed and the cabin suddenly became a bare white room dominated by four guns.
In the forward part of the ship the hanging tables used by the seamen were lashed up to the ceiling, and benches were thrown down into the hold. The effect of this clearance was to open up the gun deck from end to end. A low, cavernous space previously densely hung with hammocks and cluttered with sea chests, pewter plates, chicken hutches, pet parrots, and pens containing a goat and a few cattle, was now dominated by the serried ranks of guns. The guns each weighed around 3 tons and were mounted on sturdy wooden carriages with wooden wheels. They were now released from the lashings which secured them, and the gun crews heaved on the gun tackles and ran out the guns through the gunports, ready for firing.
In the cockpit where the midshipmen normally slept, George Bellamy, the 25-year-old surgeon, and his two assistants prepared a makeshift surgery. Bellamy had seen action before (as an acting surgeon at the Battle of the First of June) and had experienced the horrors of a French jail, but he was going to be tested to the limit before the night was over. The midshipmen's table was covered with a sheet and the surgical instruments were laid ready to hand. These included forceps, scalpels, probes and amputating knives and saws. There were buckets to hold blood and amputated limbs, and there were gags and bottles of laudanum and rum to take the place of anaesthetics.
Nelson's order to prepare to anchor by the stern was no surprise to Captain Darby in view of the position of the anchored French fleet but it involved a fairly arduous operation. One of the massive anchor cables had to be hauled out of the cable tier in the hold, manhandled the length of the ship, fed out of one of the stern ports, passed along the outside of the ship and then made fast to one of the great anchors suspended from the catheads at the bows. Springs were attached to the cable. These were smaller ropes which could be hauled on to alter the angle at which the ship was anchored and enable her to bring her broadside guns to bear on the enemy.
Shortly before 4 pm the leading ships in the British squadron rounded the shoals off the end of Aboukir Island and headed south into Aboukir Bay. As they passed the island the French guns and mortars fired some long-range shots but failed to score any hits. The British ignored them. They now had an unobstructed view of the line of French ships anchored some 3 miles away. From this angle they found themselves looking directly at the starboard broadside guns of thirteen ships of the line, a total of more than 500 guns aimed directly at them. However Nelson's plan was for his ships to head for the northern end of the French line, and then to turn, sail along the line and anchor. By concentrating his force at one end of the line so that two British ships attacked each one of the enemy, he intended to overwhelm those ships before moving on to deal with the rest. With the wind against them, the French ships at the far end of the bay could not come to their assistance. At 5 pm he issued the signaclass="underline" 'I mean to attack the enemy's van and centre'; and half an hour later: 'Form line of battle as convenient.'
The plan of the battle reproduced in Clarke and M'Arthur's official biography of Nelson provides an admirably clear picture of the contours of the bay, the off-lying shoals, the position of the anchored French fleet and the routes taken by each of the British ships. As an explanatory diagram it is excellent and was compiled with input from those who had taken part, but the approach of the British fleet was not quite as tidy as is suggested by this plan. Nelson and his captains were in a hurry to get into action before nightfall, and there was no time to wait for the slower ships trailing behind to form an orderly line of battle. They therefore bore down on the French in an irregular line, the leading ships vying with each other to get into action first. The Bellerophon was the eighth ship in the British line, with the Minotaur ahead of her and the Defence astern of her. In common with five other ships in the British line of battle that day they had all been built to Sir Thomas Slade's designs, and had been launched within two or three years of each other. As they swept down on the waiting enemy ships, the Goliath, commanded by Thomas Foley edged into the lead. She had the advantage of a captured and reasonably accurate French chart but, like all the leading ships, she had a sailor taking soundings with a lead line and shouting out the depths as they went. The sun was now low in the sky, dipping behind the castle on Aboukir Point and glittering on the waves breaking on the line of shoals which stretched out towards Aboukir Island. A steady breeze tempered the heat of the Egyptian evening and caused the tricolour flags on the motionless French ships to billow out and catch the last of the sunlight.