Having described the various classes of our fighting-ships, we may for a moment or two consider the subject of fighting tactics afloat. In the old sailing-ship days it was the object of the commander of a fighting-ship to get what was known as the "weather-gage" of his opponent. Put into shore-going English, this meant that, as far as possible, he kept his own ship between the direction of the wind and his enemy, which enabled him to manoeuvre more easily, close in upon him or not as he considered more advantageous to himself. The French were not so keen in seeking for the weather-gage, since in that position it was not so easy to break off the engagement and get away. This remark must not be necessarily taken as imputing any want of courage to our then gallant enemy, for whereas the Admiralty orders to our captains were to find the enemy and "sink, burn, or destroy" him, those given to the French naval officers impressed upon them that it was their first duty to save their ships. The result was that though as a general rule our sea-captains took the weather-gage whenever they could get it, there were some of them who, according to a pamphlet published in 1766, were fond of "engaging to leeward", to prevent an enemy from running away! In fleet actions in Nelsonian times our object was to break the enemy's line in one or more places, and, having effected this, to set upon the broken portions with all the strength available and defeat them in detail. This was the principle followed so successfully at Trafalgar. Of course the leading ships of our two lines suffered severely from the broadsides of the enemy as they approached him at right angles, but it must be remembered that the range and efficiency of the guns of those days was so limited that the leading and rear ships of the combined French and Spanish fleets could not damage any of our rear ships very much, nor even our leading ones. As for our own ships, we were prepared to take this preliminary pounding and not really to begin our offensive till we had broken their line and got within close range of that portion of their fleet we intended to destroy first. If, as at the Nile, the enemy foolishly chose to await our attack at anchor, it simplified matters for us pretty considerably. We could, as we did, move towards one end of their line at an angle on which we could exchange broadsides as we advanced on equal terms, and as soon as one-half of our ships had passed the flank selected for attack, both halves altered course so as to move parallel to the line of anchored Frenchmen and engage half their line with a superiority of two to one. Each French ship had to fight two British ones, one on either side. The ships farther down the line could do nothing to assist them unless they weighed anchor, made sail, and broke their formation, and so simply lay there waiting their turn to be dealt with.