1798, la Bataile du Nil (ou Bataille Navale d'Aboukir)
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1798, la Bataile du Nil (ou Bataille Navale d'Aboukir)
Bonaparte et son corps expéditionnaire fût littéralement emprisonné en Egypte par H.Nelson...
(si un tel homme avait été à la tête de mes vaisseaux, mes affaires eussent pris une tout autre tournure ! Napoleon)

A ranger dans le rayon que l'on aime tant en France celui des "glorieuses défaites".
Je suis en train de rechercher le documentaire : LA FLOTTE FRANCAISE D'ABOUKIR "Le rêve perdu de Bonaparte"
Pour l'instant je l'ai en version anglaise sous-titré en ... chinois !
LA FLOTTE FRANCAISE D'ABOUKIR "Le rêve perdu de Bonaparte"
ci dessous en streaming video (Anglais parlé sous titré en chinois
)
(si un tel homme avait été à la tête de mes vaisseaux, mes affaires eussent pris une tout autre tournure ! Napoleon)

A ranger dans le rayon que l'on aime tant en France celui des "glorieuses défaites".
Je suis en train de rechercher le documentaire : LA FLOTTE FRANCAISE D'ABOUKIR "Le rêve perdu de Bonaparte"
Pour l'instant je l'ai en version anglaise sous-titré en ... chinois !
LA FLOTTE FRANCAISE D'ABOUKIR "Le rêve perdu de Bonaparte"
ci dessous en streaming video (Anglais parlé sous titré en chinois
Last edited by clemence66 on Sun 7 Aug - 11:58; edited 3 times in total

Clémence66- Imperial Princess

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Number of posts: 20
Age: 42
Registration date: 2009-12-24

Re: 1798, la Bataile du Nil (ou Bataille Navale d'Aboukir)
Sans Aboukir et surtout ensuite Trafalgar, l'Angleterre aurait été envahie et écrasée par la grande armée ...
Alors oui, ils peuvent vénérer l'Amiral Nelson et leur marine
Alors oui, ils peuvent vénérer l'Amiral Nelson et leur marine

maximumuse-
Number of posts: 123
Age: 51
Localisation: Nimes (France)
Registration date: 2008-09-30

Re: 1798, la Bataile du Nil (ou Bataille Navale d'Aboukir)
Cette défaite héroïque a même fasciné les Anglais qui ont rendu hommage à un père français et son fils qui moururent dans un romantisme guerrier à vous arracher des larmes !
The Boy stood on the burning deck,
Whence all but him had fled;
The flame that lit the battle’s wreck
Shone round him o’er the dead.
Yet beautiful and bright he stood,
As born to rule the storm;
A creature of heroic blood,
A proud though childlike form.
The flames rolled on; he would not go
Without his father’s word;
That father, faint in death below,
His voice no longer heard.
He called aloud, "Say, Father, say,
If yet my task be done!"
He knew not that the chieftain lay
Unconscious of his son.
"Speak, Father!" once again he cried,
"If I may yet be gone!"
And but the booming shots replied,
And fast the flames rolled on.
Upon his brow he felt their breath,
And in his waving hair,
And looked from that lone post of death
In still yet brave despair,
And shouted but once more aloud,
"My father! must I stay?"
While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud,
The wreathing fires made way.
They wrapt the ship in splendour wild,
They caught the flag on high,
And streamed above the gallant child,
Like banners in the sky.
There came a burst of thunder sound;
The boy, - Oh! where was he?
Ask of the winds, that far around
With fragments strewed the sea,-
With shroud and mast and pennon fair,
That well had home their part,-
But the noblest thing that perished there
Was that young, faithful heart.
« Si, dans ce funeste évènement, Brueys a commis des fautes,il les a expiées par sa fin glorieuse. »(Bonaparte)
C'est rageant en effet !
The Boy stood on the burning deck,
Whence all but him had fled;
The flame that lit the battle’s wreck
Shone round him o’er the dead.
Yet beautiful and bright he stood,
As born to rule the storm;
A creature of heroic blood,
A proud though childlike form.
The flames rolled on; he would not go
Without his father’s word;
That father, faint in death below,
His voice no longer heard.
He called aloud, "Say, Father, say,
If yet my task be done!"
He knew not that the chieftain lay
Unconscious of his son.
"Speak, Father!" once again he cried,
"If I may yet be gone!"
And but the booming shots replied,
And fast the flames rolled on.
Upon his brow he felt their breath,
And in his waving hair,
And looked from that lone post of death
In still yet brave despair,
And shouted but once more aloud,
"My father! must I stay?"
While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud,
The wreathing fires made way.
They wrapt the ship in splendour wild,
They caught the flag on high,
And streamed above the gallant child,
Like banners in the sky.
There came a burst of thunder sound;
The boy, - Oh! where was he?
Ask of the winds, that far around
With fragments strewed the sea,-
With shroud and mast and pennon fair,
That well had home their part,-
But the noblest thing that perished there
Was that young, faithful heart.
« Si, dans ce funeste évènement, Brueys a commis des fautes,il les a expiées par sa fin glorieuse. »(Bonaparte)
C'est rageant en effet !

Clémence66- Imperial Princess

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Number of posts: 20
Age: 42
Registration date: 2009-12-24

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