FullReads

“Early in the morning on the 19th of October, the `Mars,’ the ship nearest the chain of frigates, repeated the signal that the enemy were leaving port, and, at two p.m., that they were steering south-east. On this Lord Nelson gave orders for the fleet to chase in that direction, but to keep out of sight of the enemy, fearful of frightening them back into port. Still, you’ll understand, the frigates kept in sight of them, and gave notice to the admiral of all their movements. The enemy had thirty-three sail of the line, and seven frigates, with above 4000 riflemen on board. Our fleet numbered only twenty-seven sail of the line, and four frigates. We were formed in two lines. Admiral Collingwood, in the `Royal Sovereign,’ led fourteen ships, and Lord Nelson, in the `Victory,’ eleven.

“On the morning of the 21st of October, 1805–you’ll not forget that day, it was a glorious one for England, let me tell you–we sighted the French and Spanish fleet from the deck of the `Victory’ off Cape Trafalgar. They were formed in a double line in a curve, one ship in the further line filling up the space left between the ships of the nearest line. They also were trying to keep the port of Cadiz under their lee, that they might escape to it. Lord Nelson determined to break the line in two places. We led the northern line with a light wind from the south-west. Admiral Collingwood led the southern, and got into action first, just astern of the `Santa Anna.’ We steered so as to pass between the `Bucentaur’ and the `Santissima Trinidade.’

“`Well, there are a lot of the enemy,’ exclaimed Tom Collins to me, as I was standing near the gun he served.

“`Yes, mate,’ said I; `and a pretty spectacle they will make at Spithead when we carry them there.’

“`Ay, that they will,’ cried all who heard me, and I believe every man in the fleet felt as we did.

“We were watching all this time the magnificent way in which the brave and good Admiral Collingwood stood into action and opened his fire. That was about noon. There was a general cheer on board our ship and all the ships of the fleet. At our masthead flew a signal. We soon knew what it meant. It was–`England expects that every man will do his duty.’ For nearly half an hour the noble Collingwood was alone among the ships of the enemy before any of his followers could come up. We, at the same time, had got within long range of the enemy. On we floated slowly, for the wind was very light, till at last our mainyard-arm was touching the gaff of the `Bucentaur,’ which ship bore the flag of Admiral Villeneuve; and though our guns were raking her and tearing her stern to pieces, we had ahead of us in the second line the `Neptune,’ which poured a heavy fire into our bows. Our helm was then put up, and we fell aboard the `Redoubtable,’ while the `Temeraire,’ Captain Blackwood, ranged up on the other side of her, and another French ship got alongside the `Temeraire.’ There we were all four locked together, pounding away at each other, while with our larboard guns we were engaging the `Bucentaur,’ and now and then getting a shot at the big Spaniard, the `Santissima Trinidade’. Meantime our other ships had each picked out one or more of the enemy, and were hotly engaged with them. At the tops of all the enemy’s ships marksmen were stationed. The skylight of the admiral’s cabin had been boarded over. Here Lord Nelson and Captain Hardy were walking. More than one man had fallen near them. Mr Scott, the admiral’s secretary, had been struck down after we had been in action little more than an hour. Suddenly as I turned my head I saw a sight which I would rather have died than have seen. Lord Nelson was just falling. He went on his knees, then rested on his arm for a moment, and it, too, giving way, he rolled over on his left side, before even Captain Hardy could run to save him. Captain Hardy had to remain on deck. I, with a sergeant of marines and another seaman, carried him below, covering his face with a handkerchief. We placed him in one of the midshipmen’s berths. Then the surgeons came to him. We feared the worst, but it was not generally known what had happened. I can tell you I was glad enough to get on deck again. It was bad enough there to see poor fellows struck down alongside one, but the sights and sounds in the cockpit were enough to overcome the stoutest heart–to see fine strong fellows mangled and torn, struggling in their agony–to watch limb after limb cut off–to hear their groans and shrieks, and often worse, the oaths and imprecations of the poor fellows maddened by the terrible pain; and there lay our beloved chief mortally wounded in the spine, parched with thirst and heat, crying out for air and drink to cool the fever raging within. For two hours and a half there he lay suffering dreadful pain, yet eagerly inquiring how the battle was going. Twice Captain Hardy went below to see him; the first time, to tell him that twelve of the enemy had struck; the last time that still more had given in, and that a few were in full flight, after whom our guns were still sending their shot. Thus Lord Nelson died at the moment the ever-to-be-remembered battle of Trafalgar was won.

“It was a sad voyage we had home, and great was the sorrow felt by all, from the highest to the lowest in the land, for the death of our beloved leader. I will not describe his funeral. It was very grand, that I know. Many of the old `Victory’s’ attended his coffin to his grave in Saint Paul’s Cathedral. When they were lowering his flag into the tomb–that flag which had truly so long and so gloriously waved in the battle and the breeze–we seized on it and tearing it in pieces, vowed to keep it as long as we lived, in remembrance of our noble chief. Here is my bit–see, I keep it safe in this case near my heart.”

England’s greatest military chief now lies by the side of one who had no equal on the ocean, in the heart of her metropolis. Within the walls of her finest cathedral, what more appropriate mausoleum could be found for Britain’s two most valiant defenders, Heaven-sent surely in the time of her greatest need to defend her from the hosts of her vaunting foes.

————-

Note 1. Lord Hood was commander-in-chief. The object of the attack was to co-operate with the patriot Corsicans, who, under their well-known gallant general Paoli, desired to liberate themselves from the yoke of France, then ruled by the tyrannical and cruel Convention. The story of the struggles of Corsica to gain her independence is deeply interesting.