the story of Nelson 36

the story of Nelson 36

At about noon the first shot was fired. It came from the _Fougueux_, a

French ship of 74 guns, under the command of Captain Louis Baudoin.

 

The _Royal Sovereign_, with the _Belleisle_ (74), _Mars_ (74), and

_Tonnant_ (80) just behind her, forged ahead. Nelson had signalled

Collingwood to break the enemy’s line at the twelfth ship from the

rear, but on seeing that she was only a two-decker Collingwood changed

his course and steered straight for the _Santa Ana_, a huge Spanish

ship of 112 guns, commanded by Vice-Admiral Alava. The _Fougueux_

(74) then came up and endeavoured to prevent Collingwood from getting

through the line. This caused the English Admiral to order his captain

to make a target of the bowsprit of the Frenchman and steer straight

for it. Fortunately for the enemy she altered her course, but although

she saved herself she did not prevent the _Royal Sovereign_ from

breaking the line.

 

Collingwood was in his element; his usual silent ways gave place to

enthusiasm. “What would Nelson give to be here!” he observed, the

while his double-shotted guns were hurling death into the hold of his

adversary and raking her fore and aft. A broadside and a half tore down

the huge stern gallery of the _Santa Ana_ (112), and killed and wounded

a number of her crew, all of whom showed by deed and daring that they

were worthy of their famous ancestors.

 

Both ships were soon in a pitiable condition, but they hugged each

other in a last desperate struggle. A terrific cannonade ensued, the

_Fougueux_ and the _San Leandro_ (64) raking the _Royal Sovereign_, and

the _San Justo_ (74) and _Indomptable_ (80) lending their assistance

some distance away, although it was difficult for them to distinguish

between the two chief contestants, so dense was the smoke from the

guns. Some fifteen or twenty minutes after Collingwood had maintained

the unequal contest alone, several British ships came up and paid

attention to those of the enemy which had gone to Alava’s assistance.

At about a quarter past two the mammoth _Santa Ana_ struck her flag.

On the captain delivering up his sword as deputy for the Vice-Admiral,

who lay dreadfully wounded, he remarked that he thought the conquering

vessel should be called the _Royal Devil_!

 

[Illustration: Nelson and Collingwood cutting the Enemy’s Lines at

Trafalgar

 

H. C. Seppings Wright]

 

Nelson, steering two points more to the north than Collingwood,

so as to cut off the enemy’s way of retreat to Cadiz, came up about

half an hour after the latter had begun his engagement. As the stately

flagship entered the zone of fire a number of Villeneuve’s vessels

poured a perfect avalanche of shot upon her decks. Down went a score

or more of brave fellows, the wheel was smashed, necessitating the

ship being steered in the gun-room, and a topmast dropped on the deck

from aloft. A shot struck one of the launches, a splinter tearing a

buckle from one of the shoes of either Nelson or Hardy, which is not

quite clear. “They both,” writes Doctor Beatty, in his “Narrative,”

“instantly stopped, and were observed by the officers on deck to

survey each other with inquiring looks, each supposing the other to be

wounded. His Lordship then smiled and said, ‘This is too warm work,

Hardy, to last long’; and declared that, through all the battles he had

been in, he had never witnessed more cool courage than was displayed by

the _Victory’s_ crew on this occasion.”

 

Steering for the _Santissima Trinidad_ (130), at that time the biggest

floating arsenal ever built in Europe, Nelson sought to engage her,

but an alteration in position precluded this, and he tackled the

_Bucentaure_ (80), Villeneuve’s flagship. The French Admiral was at

last face to face with the man whose spirit had haunted him since he

assumed command.

 

Crash went the 68-pounder carronade into the 80-gun Frenchman, and down

came the greater part of the _Bucentaure’s_ stern. The _Victory_ then

grappled with the _Redoutable_, at the same time receiving a hurricane

of fire from the French _Neptuno_ (80).

 

Up in the fighting-tops of the _Redoutable_ (74) were riflemen trying

to pick off the officers of the _Victory_. One marksman, a little

keener sighted or more fortunately placed than the others, saw Nelson

walking up and down with Hardy. There was a flash of fire, a sharp

crack as the bullet sped through the air, and the master mariner of

England, of the world, of all time, fell in a heap upon the deck.

 

The fatal ball entered his left shoulder by the edge of the epaulet,

cut through the spine, and finally buried itself in the muscles of the

back.

 

Three fellows rushed forward to his assistance.

 

“They have done for me at last, Hardy,” he murmured, as they carried

him below.

 

“I hope not,” was the Captain’s reply, not knowing the extent of

Nelson’s injuries, and probably thinking that it might be possible to

remove the missile.

 

“Yes, my backbone is shot through,” and then Nelson placed a

handkerchief over his face that the crew might not know who formed the

central figure of the solemn little procession. Some sailors on the

_Santissima Trinidad_, however, could see from the stars on his coat

that an important officer had fallen, and cheered.

 

They laid him in a midshipman’s berth in the dimly-lit cockpit. He

looked into the face of Death as he had looked into the face of the

enemy, without flinching but not without hope. Sometimes a sentence

would escape his lips. “Ah, Mr Beatty,” he said to the surgeon, “you

can do nothing for me; my back is shot through,” and to Dr Scott, the

chaplain, “Doctor, I am gone: I have to leave Lady Hamilton and my

daughter Horatia as a legacy to my country.”

 

Very little relief could be afforded him. He sipped lemonade

frequently, his breast was rubbed, and constant fanning helped to

soothe his agonies a little. Nelson sent for Hardy, whom he valued as

an able officer and friend, but as the Captain could not leave his post

at once the dying man feared for his safety. “Will no one bring Hardy

to me? He must be killed! He is surely dead!”

 

The cheers of the British tars were borne down to the cockpit as often

as an enemy’s ship struck her flag, and a smile played over the pallid

features. At last Hardy appeared and took his chief’s hand. “How goes

the day with us?” was the eager question.

 

“Very well, my Lord. We have taken twelve or fourteen ships; but five

of their van have tacked and mean to bear down on us; but I have called

two or three of our fresh ships round, and have no doubt of giving them

a drubbing.”

 

“I hope none of _our_ ships have struck?” Nelson hastened to ask,

seeing that Hardy was anxious to return to his post.

 

“There is no fear of that,” was the reassuring answer.

 

Hardy, unable to restrain his tears, ascended the companion ladder. As

the guns were fired into the passing squadron of Rear-Admiral Dumanoir,

the ship shook violently, thereby causing the dying man intense agony.

“Oh, _Victory_, _Victory_,” he cried, “how you distract my poor brain,”

followed by “how dear is life to all men.” Then his wandering thoughts

turned homeward, and the memory of happy hours at Merton made him add,

“Yet one would like to live a little longer, too.” Hardy again entered

the cockpit with the good news that fourteen or fifteen ships had

struck. “That is well,” Nelson breathed, “but I bargained for twenty.

Anchor, Hardy, anchor.” The Captain then asked whether Collingwood

should not take the post of Commander-in-chief. The Admiral answered

with all the force he could muster, “Not whilst I live, Hardy--no other

man shall command whilst I live. Anchor, Hardy, anchor; if I live I’ll

anchor.”

 

Nelson was sinking: the moment for taking his long farewell of his

Captain had come. “Don’t throw me overboard, Hardy. Take care of my

dear Lady Hamilton; take care of poor Lady Hamilton. Kiss me, Hardy.”

As the sorrowful officer bent over him consciousness began to fade.

“Who is that?” he asked. On being told that it was Hardy, he whispered,

“God bless you, Hardy.”

 

His life flickered like the candle fixed on the beam above, and then

slowly went out. He murmured that he wished he had not left the deck,

that he had _not_ been a _great_ sinner, and said with deliberation,

“Thank God, I have done my duty.” “God and my country” were the last

words heard by the sorrowful little group gathered round their beloved

master. In the arms of Mr Walter Burke, the purser of the ship, Nelson

lay dead.

 

And above, the heavy guns thundered a funeral dirge.

 

As we have already seen, the _Victory_ was engaged in a duel with the

_Redoutable_ when Nelson received his death wound. For a short period

the Frenchman did not return the fire, and thinking that Captain Lucas

was about to surrender, the _Victory’s_ guns also kept silence. But

the interval had been used for another purpose. The French crew were

swarming over the bulwarks of the British flagship, climbing chains,

and even clambering over the anchor in their attempt to get on board. A

desperate resistance was offered, Captain Adair was killed by a musket

ball, as well as eighteen marines and twenty seamen.

 

Help came from a sister ship. The _Téméraire_ (98)--the fighting

_Téméraire_ of Turner’s glorious picture--was now astern of the

_Redoutable_. Had she possessed the machine guns of to-day she could

hardly have swept the decks of the enemy with more deadly effect. The

men who were attempting to board went down like ninepins. The carnage

was awful; the sight sickening. When the smoke cleared, little heaps of

corpses were seen piled up on the decks, while the bodies of other poor

fellows floated on the sea, now tinged with the blood of victor and

vanquished. Five hundred and twenty-two of the _Redoutable’s_ crew fell

that day before she struck her colours.

 

[Illustration: The Battle of Trafalgar (the “Victory” in centre of

foreground)

 

W. L. Wyllie, A.R.A.

 

=By permission of the Art Union of London, 112 Strand, Publishers of

the Etching=]

 

The _Bucentaure_ and the _Santissima Trinidad_ were together throughout

the battle and received a succession of attacks from various ships

until they surrendered. Both of them were then little more than