her absence from which might have resulted in the escape of the enemy,
and a just censure upon Nelson. The French ship was sighted first by a
frigate, the "Penelope," Captain Blackwood, which hung gallantly upon
her quarters, as Nelson in former days had dogged the "Ça Ira" with
the "Agamemnon," until the heavier ships could gather round the
quarry. The "Guillaume Tell," necessarily intent only on escape from
overpowering numbers, could not turn aside to crush the small
antagonist, which one of her broadsides might have swept out of
existence; yet even so, the frigate decided the issue, for she shot
away the main and mizzen topmasts of the French vessel, permitting the
remainder of the British to come up. No ship was ever more gallantly
fought than the "Guillaume Tell;" the scene would have been well
worthy even of Nelson's presence. More could not be said, but Nelson
was not there. She had shaken off the "Penelope" and the "Lion,"
sixty-four, when the "Foudroyant" drew up at six in the morning. "At
half-past six," says the latter's log, "shot away the [French] main
and mizen-masts: saw a man nail the French ensign to the stump of the
mizen-mast. Five minutes past eight, shot away the enemy's foremast.
Ten minutes past eight, all her masts being gone by the board, the
enemy struck his colours, and ceased firing." The last of the fleet in
Aboukir Bay had surrendered to Nelson's ship, but not to Nelson's
flag.

"I am sensible," he wrote from Palermo to Sir Edward Berry, the
captain of the "Foudroyant," "of your kindness in wishing my presence
at the finish of the Egyptian fleet, but I have no cause for sorrow.
The thing could not be better done, and I would not for all the world
rob you of one particle of your well-earned laurels." In the matter of
glory Nelson might well yield much to another, nor miss what he gave;
but there is a fitness in things, and it was not fitting that the