The near approach of the British fleet rendering an action unavoidable,
the French Admiral, at 8.30 in the morning, made signal for his ships
to wear together, and form line, in close order, on the port tack.
This brought the port of Cadiz on his lee bow.
It was fully ten in the morning before this manœuvre, involving so many
great ships, and such a long line, was completed; and even then, from
the light and flawy wind, the line was not very regularly formed.
Accounts differ as to how the ships were disposed in the Allied line.
Lord Collingwood said that the French ships had an unusual arrangement.
They formed a crescent, convexing to leeward, “so that, in leading
down their centre, I had both their van and rear abaft the beam. Before
the fire opened, every alternate ship was about a cable’s length to
windward of her second ahead and astern, forming a kind of double line,
and appeared, when on their beam, to leave very little interval between
them, and this without crowding their ships.”
The French and English accounts and plans of the battle are all rather
incompatible with the facts of the action, as developed; and were all,
most probably, drawn from memory and influenced by impressions.
Lord Collingwood’s is, probably, the only simple and straightforward
one.
Owing to the lightness of the wind, the English fleet, after bearing
up, made very slow progress toward their enemy. These great two and
three-deckers were ponderous affairs, and required a strong breeze to
move them.
At the joint suggestion of Captains Hardy and Blackwood, Nelson
reluctantly consented that the Téméraire and Leviathan should precede
the Victory in going into action; and he himself gave orders to that
effect to the first-named ship, which was then just abreast of the
Victory, but, it was thought, at too great a distance to understand
perfectly the purport of Lord Nelson’s hail.
Captain Hardy, Nelson’s flag-Captain, therefore, went, in his boat, on
board the Téméraire, and gave Captain Harvey the Commander-in-chief’s
orders. But then the utmost endeavor of the Téméraire to pass ahead of
the Victory was frustrated by the latter’s carrying all the sail she
could set.
No one ventured to suggest shortening sail to Nelson, when going
into battle; and he was just then finding fault with the officer of
the Victory’s forecastle, for not setting the lee studding-sail in a
smarter manner.
Subsequently, when it became necessary to keep in line, for mutual
support, the Victory signalled the Téméraire to resume her station
astern of the flag-ship. Thus the Victory led the Téméraire into the
enemy’s line, after all.
The manner in which the combined fleet now lay, with a home port only
twenty-five miles off, on their lee bow, induced Nelson, about eleven
in the morning, to telegraph, “I intend to pass through the end of the
enemy’s line, to prevent them from getting into Cadiz.”
The reversed order of that line had, with the wind prevailing, produced
an effect to be guarded against. It had brought the shoals of San Pedro
and Trafalgar under the lee of both fleets. Accordingly, at half-past
eleven, the Victory made signal to the British fleet to prepare to
anchor at the close of the day.
At that time the cables were of hemp, and required a long time to
range, and prepare for letting go. They were, in such ships, of immense
size. We shall see how Nelson’s sailor instinct taught him what was to
save his fleet after the battle, although he was not to see it.
This signal having been made, no other seemed necessary, and all they
had to do was to wait for the battle to open.
But, a little before noon, Nelson telegraphed again. This time it was
his celebrated message, “England expects that every man will do his
duty.” He had dictated “confides,” but the word not being in the signal
book, the signal lieutenant suggested “expects,” and Nelson adopted it.
This signal was greeted with three cheers from all the ships, as they
were slowly bearing down upon their enemy, and aroused the utmost
enthusiasm.
They by degrees got so close that, at noon, the French ship Fougueux
opened fire upon the Royal Sovereign (Collingwood’s flag-ship), then
upon her port bow and well within shot. Immediately upon the first
gun-shot, the three British Admirals hoisted their respective flags,
and the rest of the ships the white, or St. George’s ensign, a measure
adopted to prevent any confusion, in the heat of action, from a variety
of national flags.
Each British ship also carried a union-jack at her main-top-mast stay,
and another at her fore-top-gallant stay. The combined fleet hoisted
their ensigns then, and their Admirals their flags.
Soon after the Fougueux and the ships next ahead and astern of her had
opened fire the Royal Sovereign returned it, but Nelson made signal to
engage more closely, and Collingwood ceased firing.
Soon after midday Collingwood had reached a position close astern of
the Santa Anna, 112, and fired into her, with double-shotted guns,
and with such precision that, by the subsequent admission of Spanish
officers, she killed or wounded nearly four hundred of her crew. With
the starboard broadside similarly shotted, the Royal Sovereign raked
the Fougueux, but, owing to distance, with less effect. In a short time
the British ship Belleisle followed through the combined line, which,
owing to some of the ships astern of the Fougueux pressing forward to
support the centre, while others kept their sails aback, or shivering,
was fast losing the tolerably regular form it had had.
It was about this time that Nelson said, “See that noble fellow,
Collingwood, how he carries his ship into action!” while Collingwood
was remarking to his flag-Captain, “what Nelson would give to be here!”
The British lee column approached its enemy in such a slanting
direction that it enabled most of them to discharge their starboard
guns at the enemy’s rear, and an interchange of animated firing took
place, the smoke from which, for lack of a strong breeze to carry it
off, spread over the combatants, and increased the confusion into which
the rear of the combined line had already been thrown, by the crashing
charge upon its centre.
Twenty minutes after the Fougueux had opened fire upon the Royal
Sovereign, and shortly after the latter had passed under the stern of
the Santa Anna, the Bucentaure (Villeneuve’s flag-ship) fired a shot
at the Victory, which latter had studding-sails set on both sides, and
was going through the water very slowly. The shot fell short. Another
fell alongside, after an interval, and then a third passed through the
Victory’s main-top gallant sail. Things were getting warm, but the
Victory did not immediately reply; and a minute or two of awful silence
followed, the ships _creeping_ together, and then, almost as if by
signal, the whole Allied van opened fire upon the Victory, conspicuous
from bearing Nelson’s flag. Such a fire has seldom been directed at a
single ship. Almost immediately a round shot killed Nelson’s Secretary,
Mr. Scott, while he was conversing with Captain Hardy. Shortly after
a double-headed shot killed eight marines on the poop of the Victory,
on which the Admiral ordered Captain Adair, the Marine Officer, to
disperse his men around the ship, so that they should not suffer from
being drawn up together. Presently a shot came through a thickness
of four hammocks, carried away a part of the launch, as she lay on
the booms, struck the fore-brace bitts on the quarter-deck, and then
passed between Lord Nelson and Hardy. A splinter from the bitts tore
the buckle from one of Nelson’s shoes. Dr. Beatty, the Surgeon of the
Victory, says “they both 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 smiled, and said ‘This
is too warm work, Hardy, to last long!’ and he soon after declared
to Captain Hardy that, in all his battles, he had never seen cooler
courage displayed than that by the Victory’s men, on this occasion.” To
be sure, they were fighting under Nelson’s own eye, and well-drilled
men can stand almost any fire when well commanded.
The Allied ships directly ahead of the British weather column, seeing,
by her movements, that the Victory was about to follow the example of
the Royal Sovereign, closed up around her. The Bucentaure came up near
the huge Santissima Trinidada, 130, but still left a small opening
between herself and the latter. In hopes of passing through this
interval in the line, Lord Nelson himself ordered the man at the wheel
to steer east by south.
The Victory, by the change thus made in her course, having brought her
port guns to bear upon the combined van, commenced firing from that
side. She had already, from the concentrated fire she had encountered,
lost twenty officers and men killed, and thirty wounded. This loss
would have been greater had not the enemy endeavored to disable her by
aiming rather at her spars and rigging. In consequence of this every
studding-sail boom, on both sides, had been shot away, and every sail
riddled.
This shows that if the centre and rear of the Allies had opened fire
earlier upon the Royal Sovereign, as she went in, they would, probably,
have entirely disabled her.
The Victory, as she moved slowly along, in a slanting direction,
kept her port broadside playing upon the Santissima Trinidada and
the Bucentaure, and was ably seconded by the Téméraire, Captain
Harvey, which ship still kept close astern of her. In a few minutes
the Victory’s mizzen-top-mast was shot away; and soon after her wheel
was destroyed, and the ship had to be steered, during the rest of the
action, in the gun-room, the First-Lieutenant and Master relieving
each other at that duty. All this happened in about a quarter of
an hour after she had opened fire, and she now found herself close
abreast of the narrow opening between the Spanish four-decker and the
French Commander-in-chief, the precise spot where Nelson wished to
cut the combined line. Just as the Victory was slowly passing astern
of the great Spanish ship, with the intention of hauling up under
her lee, the Bucentaure ranged ahead, and placed herself upon the
four-decker’s starboard quarter. Captain Hardy now pointed out to
Nelson the impossibility of passing through the line without running
on board one of the enemy’s ships. Lord Nelson replied, “I can’t help
it; it does not signify which we run on board of. Go on board which you
please; take your choice.” The Victory, with helm hard a-port, steered
for the Redoutable, which had gallantly come to fill a gap caused by
the falling to leeward of the French Neptune. (There was a Neptune in
each fleet.) Righting her helm--she had just steerage way--the Victory
poured a raking fire into the Bucentaure and the Santissima Trinidada,
and received a raking fire from the French Neptune, which then set her
jib to keep clear.
On coming slowly to the wind the Victory drifted on board the
Redoutable, but not until she had given her a broadside, and received
some shot in return. The Redoutable then shut her lower deck ports,
apparently to prevent the English from boarding through them, and did
not again fire a gun from her port side.
The ships came together very gently, and were in the act of rebounding,
when the Victory’s starboard fore-yard-arm caught the leech of the
Redoutable’s fore-topsail. This kept them together for a time, and,
with the muzzles of their guns almost touching, the two ships fell off
before the wind.
Having accompanied Lord Nelson so far, let us now take a general view
of the battle.
Soon after the first four ships of the British lee division had cut the
centre and rear of the combined line, the remainder, as they came up
in succession, pierced the mass of the Allied ships (for they were no
longer in line), and then found opponents as they could.
Meantime the weather division had cut through a little ahead of the
centre of the combined line. The action, which had begun at noon, was
at its height at about half-past one. At three the fire had begun to
slacken; and at five had entirely ceased.
Of the eleven van ships of the Allies, including the huge Sta.
Trinidada, only one was captured in her proper place; the remaining
ten were out of line. Of the latter, three were captured and seven
escaped; four by hauling to windward, and then by running for Cadiz. Of
their ten centre ships, five were taken in their line of battle, and
five escaped into Cadiz; and of the twelve rear ships, nine, including
one burnt, were taken, and three escaped into Cadiz. This made, as the
result of the day’s proceedings, nine French ships of the line captured
or burnt, and nine Spanish ships of the line captured; total eighteen.
The French and Spanish ships which escaped were many of them much
shattered.
It is impossible to give details of the separate action of so many
ships, or of the losses they sustained, without being tedious. But
it may be interesting to give some idea of the French view of the
battle--previous to speaking of the death of Nelson.
We now quote from a French source. After enumerating the combined
fleet, and its mode of formation, the account goes on to say, that
“the vessels” (of the Allies) were most of them rather antiquated,
especially the Spanish vessels, and unfitted for the new tactics
introduced by Nelson. Soon after going out the two fleets sighted
each other off Cape Trafalgar--that low point formerly called by the
ancients the promontory of Juno.
“The English Admiral had but twenty-seven sail-of-the-line, but his
guns were superior in calibre to those of the Allies. They had,
moreover, much greater nautical experience, and a great leader,
conditions of success which the Allies could not claim.” “Villeneuve
formed a single line of battle. Nelson formed in two columns, to cut
this line, and then expected to conquer the separate parts in detail.”
* * * * * *
“October 21st, at eleven A. M., the two fleets came together, and one
of the most destructive naval battles ever fought ensued. * * * The
English were full of confidence and enthusiasm. * * * Nelson himself
set the example. Outsailing his division, he dashed the Victory
against the Allied line, in spite of the concentrated broadsides
poured upon him. * * * He attempted to take the Bucentaure, the
flag-ship of Villeneuve, and for that purpose tried to get in between
her and another French ship, the Redoutable, commanded by the brave
Captain Lucas. Lucas divined his intentions, and hastened to bar the
Victory’s way. But Nelson was not the man to be deterred by odds, and
immediately laid his ship alongside the Redoutable, and boarded her.
Lashed alongside, the two ships fell out of line, fighting.” It is not
very often that accounts from opposite sides agree so closely as the
foregoing account.
“The ship’s company of the Redoutable bravely accepted the unequal
combat. From the tops, as well as from the batteries, they answered
the fire of the English, and, in this singular fight, one rather of
musketry than of great guns, the French had rather the advantage.”
“The decks of the Victory were burdened with the dead. In the midst of
the noise and confusion, and smoke of combat, Nelson and Captain Hardy
walked the poop. Not far from them a few men were exchanging a brisk
musketry fire with those in the tops of the French ship. Suddenly the
Admiral staggered and fell, with his face to the deck. A ball fired
from the mizzen-top of the Redoutable had struck his left shoulder,
passing through the epaulette, then through the chest, and lodging in
the dorsal vertebræ.” Admiral Jurien de la Gravière says, “They picked
him up at once, the decks being covered with his blood. Hardy, who had
not seen him fall, turned, and, paler than Nelson himself, cried, ‘I
hope, my Lord, that you are not dangerously wounded!’ ‘They have done
for me,’ he answered; ‘they have succeeded at last; the spine of my
back is broken.’”
Thiers, in his history, gives a rather different account, only
interesting as showing the way in which this important event was
reported by the French. “Nelson, dressed in a coat which he always wore
on days of battle, and having at his side his flag-captain, Hardy,
seemed to delight in exposing himself. His Secretary had already been
killed just beside him. Captain Hardy had had one of his shoe buckles
shot away, and a bar shot had killed eight men at once on the poop.
The great seaman, just object of both hatred and admiration to us,
impassable upon his poop, was looking calmly on at the horrible scene,
when a bullet from one of the tops of the Redoutable struck him on the
left shoulder, and passing on, lodged in his loins. Sinking to his
knees he fell forward, endeavoring to sustain himself by his hands. In
falling he said, ‘Hardy, the Frenchmen have finished me.’ ‘Not yet, I
hope,’ said Hardy. ‘Yes! I am dying,’ said Nelson. They carried him to
the cockpit, but he had already almost lost consciousness, and it was
evident he had but a short time to live. Recovering his consciousness
at intervals, he asked how the battle went; and repeated the directions
which afterwards proved his foresight: ‘Anchor! anchor the fleet
before evening.’” He soon died, but he had the consolation of knowing,
before he did so, that his triumph was certain. To continue the French
account: “This bloody episode naturally created disorder on board the
Victory, and Captain Lucas, of the Redoutable, without knowing the
cause, wished to profit by it to board the English ship. The boarders
were already called away, when a broadside of grape from the Téméraire
laid low two hundred of them, either killed or wounded. At the same
time another English ship, the Neptune, fired into the Redoutable’s
poop, and reduced her to a deplorable condition. Two of her masts fell
upon the deck, her guns were in great part dismounted, and one of her
sides almost beaten in, by which the water entered in torrents. All her
staff was wounded, ten out of eleven midshipmen mortally wounded, while
522 men out of 640 were either killed or wounded, and, being unable to
resist longer, they were obliged to strike.”
To continue the French account: “The other French ships, in equal
straits, were menaced with the same fate, although their crews, as well
as those of the Spanish fleet, showed no lack of courage. The English
guns, ably and perfectly served, made havoc with their enemy, whose
ships, as has been said, were deficient in condition.
“The Bucentaure, attacked by several ships at once, all of whom looked
upon her as their special prize, had fouled and caught her bowsprit in
the gallery of the Spanish ship Santissima Trinidada, and was incapable
of getting clear. In this position she soon had her decks swept, and
lay at the mercy of the enemy, with great gaps in her starboard side,
her poop demolished, her masts gone by the board, her officers and crew
decimated. ‘My business on board the Bucentaure is finished,’ cried
the unfortunate Villeneuve; ‘I will try to bring back good fortune on
board of another vessel.’ But not a boat was able to swim, and it was
impossible for him to leave the Bucentaure.”
M. Thiers says that the French Admiral thus found himself upon a
sinking ship, incapable of taking either the offensive or defensive,
unable to transmit orders or to do anything to save the fleet which had
been entrusted to him, and unable to answer even a shot to those he was
still receiving. In this desperate condition, which could not be worse,
he resigned himself to the sad necessity of striking his flag. This
took place about four in the afternoon.
“An English boat came and took him on board the Mars, where he was
received with all the distinction due to his rank and his courage.”
“The seven vessels of the centre, which Villenueve commanded, were
either captured or disabled. Those at the head of the Allied line had
taken little part in the action, owing to light winds. Rear Admiral
Dumanoir, who commanded them, feared to be compromised uselessly if he
went to the assistance of either Villeneuve or of the rear division,
and he decided not to allow his division to become involved in the
disaster which he deemed irremediable. So he drew off, and his conduct
has been made the subject of more or less hostile criticism, according
as people judged his motives.”
“The vessels of the rear division” (we are still following the French
account), “commanded by Admiral Gravina and Rear-Admiral Magon, carried
on the battle with devoted courage. The Algésiras (flag-ship of the
French Rear-Admiral) made as terribly desperate a defence (_always
defence_) as the Redoutable. Magon had for opponent the Tonnant, a
ship taken from the French, of 80 guns. He was about to board her
when the same misfortune happened which occurred to the Redoutable.
Another English ship raked the Algésiras, sweeping off a large number
of her crew by broadsides of grape. She endeavored to reply to this new
enemy, when a third came and joined them. In this Homeric struggle the
Algésiras for a time fought all three. The Captain of the Tonnant tried
three times to board the Algésiras. Magon himself, at the head of his
crew, boarding-axe in hand, set an example to his men, and his decks
were stained with blood in this hand-to-hand conflict. Conspicuous
for his brilliant uniform, which he refused to lay aside, he was soon
wounded by a musket ball, but remained on deck. A second ball hit him
in the thigh, and feeling faint he allowed himself to be taken below to
have the wound dressed, expecting to return. Unfortunately his ship’s
sides were so battered that grape could readily enter below, and Magon
was hardly below when he was killed by a grape-shot through the chest.
“The sailors of the Algésiras seemed rendered desperate by the news
of his death, but all their courage did not avail. Out of 641 men on
board of her, 150 were killed and 180 wounded. Her masts were gone,
her battery dismounted, and when the English boarded they overran the
ship, and her flag was struck. Admiral Gravina, on board the Principe
d’Asturias, and surrounded by English vessels, fought with the fury of
despair. Holding out well against odds, he gave time to the Neptune and
Pluto to come down to his assistance. Unfortunately, just as this aid
arrived he was mortally wounded.”
“Another episode in this battle of giants marked its termination. The
Achille caught fire, and her crew, instead of attending to that, would
not leave her guns, and she blew up, with tremendous violence.”
“At five in the afternoon the French fleet was either destroyed or
fugitive. Seventeen French and Spanish ships had been taken, and one
blew up. The combined fleet lost six or seven thousand men in killed,
wounded, drowned and prisoners. A more horrible sight has seldom been
seen in a naval battle.
“The English had suffered much. Many of them had lost masts; some
were entirely disabled. They lost about three thousand men, a great
many officers, and Nelson. And this had the effect of moderating the
enthusiasm in England over this great victory. During the following
night a heavy gale arose, as Nelson had foreseen. The English, having
great trouble to take care of themselves, were forced to abandon the
prizes they had in tow, or in company. Many of the prizes were seized
by the prisoners, and, after great effort, succeeded in getting into
Cadiz. The English retained but four of their prizes and Admiral
Villeneuve, whose troubles were not yet ended. The French marine was
almost destroyed, _physically_ and _morally_; and they have hardly
recovered from it at this day.
“Napoleon heard of it when in Germany, in the midst of triumphs, and
‘he never forgave Villeneuve.’ The Admiral was placed at liberty
by the English, and came home in April, 1806, hoping to justify his
conduct. He forwarded a letter to Paris, and soon followed it in
person. But while still on the journey, he received a reply, the
contents of which caused him to give himself six fatal stabs with a
knife, in the region of the heart, causing almost immediate death.”
Having seen how fairly and truthfully, upon the whole, the French have
described some of the incidents of this great battle, let us now return
to some of the details and the result.
It will be remembered that Nelson was urging the Victory into action;
and that vessel being fast-sailing for a line-of-battle ship, would
probably have been, like the Royal Sovereign, far ahead of the ships
in her wake, but that the Téméraire, having on board very little
provisions or water, was what the sailors call “flying light.” This
ship was called the “fighting Téméraire.” She had been taken from the
French, and was commanded in this action by the gallant Captain Eliab
Harvey, a name worthy of a down-east Yankee. She is well known from the
celebrated picture, by Turner, of “The fighting Téméraire towed to her
last berth.”
The great difficulty on the part of the Téméraire was to keep astern
of her leader; and to do this she was obliged frequently to yaw, or to
make a traverse. Hence the Téméraire shared with the Victory--although
not to quite so great an extent--the damage and loss of life sustained
by the head of the weather English column, from the Allies’ heavy and
incessant raking fire.
Shortly after the Victory opened her port guns the Téméraire opened
hers; and when the former put her helm aport, to steer towards the
Redoutable, the Téméraire, to keep clear of her leader, was compelled
to do the same, receiving a fire as she passed the Santissima
Trinidada, that did her much damage.
At last, when the Victory passed through, the Téméraire succeeded.
Meanwhile the Victory had got foul of the Redoutable, and the two ships
payed off to the eastward. The Téméraire had scarcely begun to haul up,
to avoid being raked by the French Neptune, which was in a position to
do so with impunity, when the Téméraire discovered, through the smoke,
the Redoutable driving down on board her. The wind was too light to
work clear of her--and the French Neptune opened on the English ship,
in a raking position, and soon shot away most of her spars. Rendered
unmanageable, the Téméraire could only continue her cannonade of the
Redoutable from her port battery. This she did until the French ship
shut in her lower-deck ports, as we have seen she had already done on
the opposite side; and then she fell on board the Téméraire--the French
ship’s bowsprit passing over the British ship’s gangway, just before
the mizzen-rigging, where, in order to have the benefit of a raking
fire, the Téméraire’s men lashed it. Then they poured in round after
round, with most destructive effect. This fire of the Téméraire is said
to have cost the French ship two hundred in killed and wounded. This
happened just after the Victory and the Téméraire had got clear of each
other--and just after Nelson had received his death wound.
The three ships now lying nearly parallel, the two larger English ships
had the French two-decker lying between them and riddled by their
shot. The English had to use a diminished charge of powder to prevent
their shot from passing through, to injure their friends, and their
guns contained three shot each, and were much depressed. Fire was now
the common enemy of the three ships, grappled together in this dogged
fight. The seamen of the English ships were actually obliged to throw
buckets of water into the holes made by their shot in the Redoutable’s
sides. All this time the Victory’s guns, on the other side, had
continued to play upon the Spanish four-decker, until the English
Neptune came up and took charge of her. “The Redoutable, although she
did not make use of her great guns, kept up a heavy fire of musketry,
both from her decks and from her tops. In each of the latter were one
or two brass cohorn mortars, which she repeatedly discharged, with
great effect, upon the decks of her antagonists. From the diagonal
position of the Redoutable, at the time the Téméraire lashed her to her
gangway, the quarter-deck and the poop of the Victory became greatly
exposed to the top fire of the French ship, whose mizzen-top was just
abaft and rather below the Victory’s main-yard.” About half-past one
a musket ball from this top struck Lord Nelson in the left shoulder,
as, having walked along the middle of the quarter-deck, from abaft, he
was in the act of turning round to the right, near the main hatchway,
to walk back, on the left hand of Captain Hardy, then a step or two in
advance, giving some necessary orders. Dr. Beatty says, “Lord Nelson
fell upon his face, in exactly the same spot where his Secretary had
been killed early in the action; and Scott’s blood not having been
removed, soiled Lord Nelson’s clothes. He was raised at once by three
of the crew, and Captain Hardy, on turning round, became aware of what
had happened. Hardy eagerly said that he hoped he was not severely
wounded, and Nelson replied, ‘They have done for me at last, Hardy!’ ‘I
hope not,’ said Hardy. ‘Yes,’ replied the Admiral, ‘my backbone is shot
through.’ The men, by Captain Hardy’s direction, bore the Admiral to
the cockpit,” where we shall leave him for the present.
Although sure to suffer most from the effects of fire, the Redoutable
continued to throw hand grenades from her tops and yard-arms, some of
which, rebounding, set fire to her fore and main chains and shrouds.
This fire communicated to the Téméraire, but was soon extinguished by
her people.
The Victory’s crew, after putting out a fire on the booms of that
vessel, actually assisted in putting out the flames on board the
Redoutable, throwing buckets of water from their ship.
For a quarter of an hour after Nelson had received his wound the
Victory maintained a steady cannonade at the hull of the Redoutable,
receiving in return a fire of musketry which continued to kill or
wound many officers and men. It was a little after two when the main
and mizzen masts of the French ship fell. This stopped her formidable
musketry, and the two English ships prepared to take possession of her.
The Victory, however, tumbled home so much that, the Frenchman’s ports
being shut, her men could not board. The Téméraire, being French built,
did not tumble in much, and she had, besides, the fallen mizzen-mast as
a bridge--and down the latter the crew of the Téméraire scrambled, and
boarded and took possession of the most gallantly fought French ship.
Then another complication took place. The French ship Fougueux, 74,
after engaging the Royal Sovereign, Belleisle, and Mars, stood slowly
across for the starboard beam of the Téméraire--the latter lying with
her head about east. The object of the Fougueux was probably to pass to
windward of the Téméraire, and rake her; or perhaps to board her--as
the Téméraire’s appearance indicated that she was much disabled--her
colors being then down, from having her gaff carried away. But the
English ship had her starboard broadside in perfect readiness, and
delayed firing until the Fougueux got quite close. Then she fired,
and there was a fearful crash on board the French ship. Crippled and
confused the latter fell on board the Téméraire, and there she was
immediately lashed. Boarders from the Téméraire leaped on board of
her at once--finding her Captain mortally wounded, and some of the
other officers endeavoring to rally the crew to repel boarders. In
ten minutes she was a prize to the Téméraire. Four ships were thus
locked together at once, but the Victory soon disengaged herself, and
lying with her head to the northward, ceased firing, temporarily. She
had been terribly cut up, and had lost fifty-seven killed, and one
hundred and two wounded. The Redoutable, which had occupied the exposed
position, out of a crew of six hundred and forty-three, had lost three
hundred killed, and two hundred and twenty-two wounded--including
nearly all her officers. The Téméraire was much damaged, and her loss
was forty-seven killed and seventy-six wounded. The Fougueux had not
suffered nearly so much as the others.
The Leviathan was the last English ship engaged with the French
Commander-in-chief, which latter, upon hauling down her colors, was
boarded by the Leviathan’s Captain of Marines and five men.
On reaching the Bucentaure’s quarter-deck, M. Villeneuve and the first
and second Captains presented their swords, but the Marine Officer
declined to receive them, and referred them to Captain Pellew, of the
Leviathan. Securing the magazine, and putting the key in his pocket,
and placing sentries at the cabin doors, the Marine Officer pulled
off, with the French Admiral and his two Captains. His own ship had
proceeded in chase and left him, so he took the French officers on
board the Mars--and here they remained prisoners.
And now in regard to the huge four-decker, the Spanish Santissima
Trinidada. At half-past two she had been so sharply handled by
different English ships, that she was dismasted, and lay an
unmanageable wreck. The Neptune being called off by an attack from some
of the ships of the Allied van, the Africa, 64, bore down ahead of the
Sta. Trinidada. Meeting no return to her fire, and seeing no colors
hoisted, the Africa concluded that the four-decker had surrendered, and
sent a boat to take possession.
On the Lieutenant’s reaching the quarter-deck and asking if she
had surrendered, a Spanish officer answered “No,” at the same time
pointing to one Spanish and four French sail-of-the-line then passing
to windward. As, owing to being dismasted, the four-decker was fast
drifting away from the two fleets, the English Lieutenant, who had only
a boat’s crew with him, quitted the ship--being, singularly enough,
permitted to do so--and returned to the Africa.
The Santissima Trinidada then remained without a prize crew until about
half-past five, when the Prince, 98, took her in tow, in obedience to
signal. The great ship’s loss in killed and wounded was very severe,
having sustained, in succession, the raking fire of four different
ships, and her hull, especially her stern and quarters, was dreadfully
shattered.
It is impossible to follow the fortunes of the other ships, interesting
as they are, and remarkable for gallant actions on both sides.
We must, however, mention the collision of the Allied van with some of
the English ships.
At about half-past two the whole of the Allied van, except the Sta.
Trinidada, began to put about, in obedience to a signal from their
Commander-in-chief to come quickly into close action. They did not
comply very readily with the signal; indeed, owing to the light wind,
they could not do so.
When ten ships got round on the starboard tack, five of them (four
French and one Spanish), under Rear Admiral Dumanoir, hauled their
wind, and the other five kept away, as if to join Admiral Gravina, then
to leeward of the rear, in the act of making off. In the height of
this confusion in the combined van, the Britannia, Agamemnon, Orion,
and Ajax got intermingled among the French and Spanish ships that had
put about and were edging away. Quite a spirited fight now took place
between these, and Admiral Dumanoir, with his five ships, interchanged
shots with many of the English.
It was just at this moment that Captain Hardy dispatched a Lieutenant
to Vice-Admiral Collingwood, to inform him that Lord Nelson was wounded.
The hauling to windward of Dumanoir gave the two rear ships of the
English weather squadron, the Minotaur and Spartiate, an opportunity of
exchanging broadsides with the French ships Formidable, Duguay-Trouin,
Mont Blanc and Scipion, while they succeeded in cutting off the rear
ship, the Spanish Neptune, 80, and she was captured, about five P. M.
This was not done without a warm resistance from the Spaniard, which
was the last ship which struck on that eventful day.
The British fleet, in all this five hours’ fighting, had only had 449
killed and 1241 wounded.
While this fleet was securing their disabled and battered prizes, and
getting the latter, as well as themselves, in a state to keep the sea,
and while the more fortunate of the French and Spanish ships were
profiting by the occasion to effect their escape from the scene of
disaster, let us look at the cockpit of the Victory, where lay, dying,
the chief hero of the day.
The manner of receiving his wound has been already described. Dr.
Beatty, who had the ball in his possession, says it was not fired from
a rifled piece, although it was stated, in Southey’s life of Nelson,
that Tyrolean riflemen were posted in the tops of the French ship.
Dr. Beatty says, “While the men were carrying Lord Nelson down the
ladder, from the middle deck, his Lordship observed that the tiller
ropes were not yet replaced, and sent a midshipman to remind Captain
Hardy of the circumstance, and requested that new ones should be
immediately rove. Having given this order, he took his handkerchief
from his pocket and covered his face, that he might not, at this
crisis, be recognized by the crew.” These are most thoughtful and
touching precautions.
When he was dying Captain Hardy came down, with tidings of the victory
being certain. Dr. Beatty says, “Lord Nelson and Captain Hardy shook
hands, and the Captain congratulated him, even in the arms of death,
upon the brilliant victory, which he said was complete, although he
did not know how many ships were captured; certainly fourteen or
fifteen. Nelson said, ‘That is well, but I bargained for twenty,’ and
then emphatically exclaimed, ‘Anchor, Hardy, anchor!’ ‘I suppose, my
Lord, Admiral Collingwood will now take upon himself the direction of
affairs.’ ‘Not while I live, I hope, Hardy!’ cried Nelson; ‘No, do you
anchor, Hardy.’ Captain Hardy then said, ‘Shall _we_ make the signal,
sir?’ ‘Yes,’ answered Nelson, ‘for if I live, I’ll anchor.’”
In about fifteen minutes Lord Nelson became speechless, and died at
half-past four. His best and truest friends only regretted that he had
not died instantly, on the quarter-deck, when he was wounded.
All nations have done justice to Nelson’s character, and a celebrated
French writer says, he “ought to be held up as a model to Admirals,
both for the extraordinary pains he took to know his Admirals and
Captains, and by the spirit of the attacks which he resolved to
undertake. He unfolded to them his general plan of operations, and the
modifications with which the weather or the manœuvres of the enemy
might force him to qualify his original determination.
“When once he had explained his system to the superior officers of
his fleet, he confided to them the charge of acting according to
circumstances, so as to lead, in the most favorable manner, to the
consummation of the enterprise so planned. And Nelson, who was allowed
to choose the companions of his glory, possessed the talent and the
happiness to find men worthy of his instruction and confidence. They
learned, in action, to supply what had escaped his forethought, and in
success to surpass even his hopes.”
The immediate result of the Battle of Trafalgar was seventeen French
and Spanish ships-of-the-line captured, and one French ship burnt.
Four French ships effected their escape to the southward; and Admiral
Gravina, with eleven French and Spanish ships-of-the-line, and the
smaller vessels, anchored under Rota, in the course of the succeeding
night.
At six P. M. Vice-Admiral Collingwood, now Commander-in-Chief, shifted
his flag to the Euryalus frigate, and the latter, taking the Royal
Sovereign in tow, stood off shore with her.
Most of the British ships were so damaged, either in spars or hull,
that they were not in a condition to carry sail.
Of seventeen prizes, eight were wholly dismasted, the remainder partly
so. Some were nearly in a sinking condition.
To add to their perilous condition, they were then in thirteen fathoms
of water, with the shoals of Trafalgar only a few miles to leeward.
Fortunately the wind, which was west-south-west, and dead on shore, was
moderate; but there was a high swell, which was bad for wounded masts.
At nine P. M. the Vice-Admiral made the signal to anchor, but few could
do so, as many cables were cut by shot. At midnight the wind veered to
south-south-west, and freshened, and signals were made to those under
way to wear, with heads to the westward. Four of the dismasted prizes
anchored off Cape Trafalgar, and the rest wore, and drifted seaward.
Next morning Collingwood issued a general order of thanks to the fleet.
There was then a fresh southerly wind; but thirteen of the prizes,
which had remained under way, were got hold of, and towed to the
westward. But at five o’clock that afternoon it was found that the
Redoutable was sinking, which she did, with many French prisoners and
her prize crew on board. Some were saved on a raft, but many were
lost. Other fearful casualties occurred during the rough weather of
the succeeding night. The Fougueux was lost, with all on board but
twenty-five; and the Algésiras was given up to the prisoners, who
carried her into Cadiz. The Bucentaure was wrecked, but her crew was
saved.
A heavy gale continued, and on the 23d the French Captain,
Cosmao-Kerjulien, with five ships and five frigates, recaptured two of
the prizes, which were drifting about. But in doing so one of his own
ships, the Indomptable, a fine eighty-gun vessel, was wrecked, with all
on board lost; and the Spanish ship St. Francis d’Assis was lost, with
most of her crew. Other casualties occurred.
Altogether, of the ships captured by the British, at the end of the
operations only four--one French and three Spanish 74’s--remained
as trophies in the hands of the conquerors. Nor was one of them
worth the pains and risk taken to preserve her. The Victory, towed
by the Neptune, arrived at Gibraltar on the 28th of October, and on
the 3d of November, having been partially refitted, she sailed for
England--having Nelson’s body, preserved in spirits, on board. At
Chatham the Admiralty yacht received the coffin, which was made of
the main-mast of the French flag-ship Orient, which was burnt at the
battle of the Nile--and which had been presented to Nelson by Captain
Hallowell. This was placed in a leaden coffin; and his flag, which had
been kept at half-mast on board the Victory, was struck for the last
time.
His body, thus encoffined, lay in state at Greenwich Hospital; and on
the 9th of January, 1806, was buried, with great pomp, in St. Paul’s
Cathedral.
Lord Nelson was engaged in action with an enemy over one hundred and
twenty times, and besides being severely wounded elsewhere, lost his
right eye and his right arm.
He had not long passed his forty-seventh birthday when he was killed.
His brother William was made an Earl, with £6000 per annum and £100,000
for the purchase of an estate; while £10,000 pounds were given to each
of his sisters.
It was also decided that two ships should be built; one of one hundred
and twenty guns, to be called the Nelson; and one of ninety-eight
guns, to be called the Trafalgar. Collingwood was made a Baron, and
voted £2000 per annum; and, of course, there were a very large number
of minor promotions.