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, whose expressions never
lapse into the complaints of Nelson or the querulousness of Collingwood,
was tried by the slow progress of his battered and crippled squadron.
"The prizes get on very slowly," he writes; "but I am endowed with
unparalleled patience, having scarcely uttered a murmur at their
tardiness, so perfectly satisfied am I with the prospect before me."
Some time later he notes: "We have been three weeks effecting what might
be accomplished in two days. This extra
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