The French fleet of 17 sail, under Admiral Martin, were sighted off Hyères at daylight on July 13th, and the signal for a general chase was thrown out by the Britannia, Admiral Hotham’s flagship.

The “Victory” was always celebrated for her good sailing qualities, and on this occasion they shone out particularly conspicuous, for, at half-past noon, she, with the Culloden and Cumberland, came within range of the rearmost of the enemy, while the rest of their companions were astern at distances ranging from 1 to 9 miles, the Commander-in-Chief being one of the farthest, for the Britannia was as bad a sailer as the “Victory” was a good one. They opened fire, but at this moment the wind unfortunately failed, and they were unable to get into close action, though at the end of an hour the Alcide, a seventy-four, struck. They still hoped to make more prizes, but had by four o’clock drifted so near the shore, that the signal to discontinue the action was made, and the French escaped through the shoals, the passages between which they were familiar with, into Fréjus Bay.

The Alcide, which had made a most gallant defence, unluckily took fire shortly after striking, and blew up with the loss of all her crew, save 200. In the skirmish, the “Victory” was the greatest sufferer, having her rigging much cut, and all her lower masts badly wounded. She lost 5 killed (2 officers), and 16 wounded.

Man retained his flag in her until October, when he shifted to the Windsor Castle, and was succeeded by Vice-Admiral Robert Linzee, who flew his flag in the “Victory” for a month only. During this period she was cruising with a fleet, watching Toulon, and going from port to port in that vicinity, until the 3rd of December, 1795, when being at San Fiorenzo in Corsica, Sir John Jervis, who had arrived from England a few days before, hoisted his flag in her as Commander-in-Chief, and at once proceeded off Toulon. He remained cruising between that port and Minorca, with a fleet of about 13 sail, until the autumn of 1796, but up to this time no incidents took place that are worth recording.

Spain had made a peace with France in 1794; and now in August 1796, an alliance, offensive and defensive, was concluded between the two powers. This put Sir John Jervis in a very critical position, as the united French and Spanish fleets amounted to 38 ships of the line, while Sir John, who was at Martello Bay, had but 15. It was determined accordingly, to evacuate Corsica, as the power of the French republic, and the deeds of their countryman, Buonaparte, were awaking feelings in the inhabitants that were not amicable to England. This was completed on the 2nd November, and Sir John and all his fleet sailed from Corsica, and escorted the transports to Gibraltar, which was reached on December 11th. On the 16th he went on to Lisbon to meet some expected reinforcements from home.

Here he remained until the 18th January, when he sailed with 10 ships only; but on February 6th 5 more joined from England, when his force consisted of the following line-of-battle ships, with which he cruised, awaiting news of the enemy.

On the 13th, when off Cape St. Vincent, Commodore Nelson in the Minerve frigate, joined, and reported having been chased by the Spaniards. This was a fleet of 27 sail of the line, which had passed the Straits on the 5th, and was then working up for Cadiz, with the intention of picking up more ships there, and then proceeding for Brest to join the French.

The morning of the 14th, the ‘glorious St. Valentine’s day,’ 1791, broke thick and misty, but as soon as daylight made its appearance, the Spaniards were sighted to the S.W.; one by one they were made out through the fog, and reported to the Admiral, who received the report of their increasing numbers with imperturbability, and when the whole 27 sail were fully in sight, and Captain Calder expressed some hesitation about the wisdom of coping with such odds, he exclaimed, “Enough Sir, were there fifty I will go through them.”

The Spanish fleet were much scattered and in no particular order, but some eight ships were considerably to leeward of the rest, leaving a distinct gap, which was, however, rapidly narrowing, by the nineteen ships to windward running down to join their companions. For this gap the British ships pushed with all sail in a compact line, “Victory” in the centre. A few minutes hesitation might have been fatal, for had the enemy got all his ships together, the 15 English vessels would have fought against great odds; but Jervis was a bold Commander, to whom indecision was unknown, and who was well aware of the value of the presence of a man like Nelson, and, indeed, it was mainly by the latter’s daring manœuvre at a later period of the action, that the Spaniards were prevented from effecting their junction.

As it was, they were just in time, and as soon as the weather division of Spaniards saw the head of the English line between them and their friends, they hauled to the wind on the opposite tack, hoping to get round the rear of the British line, and so effect their purpose. Their lee division still stood determinedly on, and attempted to cut the British line ahead of the “Victory” herself, but she, by her rapid advance, frustrated this, and forced the Principe de Asturias, of 112 guns, to put about to avoid a collision. The Spanish ship, which bore the flag of one of their Rear Admirals, let fly her broadside as she shot up in the wind, but either from the obscurity caused by smoke, or by mistaken orders this was done at the wrong time, and extraordinary to relate, not a shot struck the “Victory.” With a ringing cheer of derision from her crew, the British flagship re-paid the compliment, but with interest, for as the Spanish three-decker slowly turned round and presented her stern to her, the whole of the “Victory’s” guns were discharged into it with destructive effect. The Spaniard ran straight away to leeward, followed by his whole division, and until the close of the day, never appeared again in the action.

In the mean time, the weather division, as has been said, were intending to round the rear of our line, and so join their ships to leeward, but Nelson, in the Captain, the third ship of the line from the rear, saw their object the instant their van bore up together astern, and immediately wearing round, plunged fearlessly into their midst. He was followed by the Culloden and Excellent, and the Spanish Admiral, daunted by this spirited conduct, hauled to the wind, and gave up the attempt.

The annexed plan may help to the comprehension of the position of affairs at this period of the action.

The other British ships in the meantime were tacking in succession, and one after another came into action to the support of their comrades.

The “Victory” engaged the Salvador del Mundo, a 112 gun ship, which had already been mauled by the Excellent, and forced her to strike her colours. This was at 3, p.m., and shortly afterwards, Sir John, who was discreet as he was bold, observing that about 24 Spaniards (composed of the 8 lee ships, and odd ships of the weather division, who were all fresh) were bearing down on them, made the signal to close up to cover the prizes; this was immediately done, and the Spaniards, not liking the look of the compact line of the British, hauled off, and made no effort to continue the action.

In this battle, Nelson particularly distinguished himself, as in his little 74, the Captain, he boarded in succession, and took, the San Nicholas, of 80, and San Josef, of 112 guns; the “Victory” passing just at that time, gave the gallant Captain three cheers. Nelson went on board the “Victory” after the action, and was warmly embraced by Sir John Jervis, on the very quarter-deck on which he was to fall, covered with glory, eight years later, and not far from the place where this battle had been fought.

But for all these details we must refer the reader to James’s, Drinkwater’s, and other accounts.

The “Victory,” strange to say, had but 1 man killed, and 8 wounded; the total loss in the English fleet being about 350 killed and wounded.

The fruits of the victory were the San Josef, Salvador del Mundo, 112, San Nicholas, 80, and San Isidro, 74; a result, that considering these prizes were wrested from 27 ships by 15, cannot but be considered as most glorious.

The enemy, next day, had it in their power to renew the action with 21 ships. Who can say what the result might have been, for some of our vessels were so disabled as to render it necessary to tow them; but though the Spaniards once made a feint, as if they would attack, they finally disappeared, allowing our fleet and prizes to arrive safely at Lagos Bay, in Portugal, where they anchored on the 16th.

On the 19th, they experienced a gale of wind that drove the “Victory” from her anchors, whereby she had a most narrow escape of being wrecked. On the 23rd they sailed, and arrived at Lisbon on the 28th, without accident or molestation.

The news of the battle of Cape St. Vincent, as it was called, was received in England with frantic joy; great rejoicings took place throughout the kingdom, the fleet received the thanks of both Houses of Parliament, Sir John Jervis was created Earl of St. Vincent, Admirals Thompson and Parker were made Baronets, and the gallant Commodore Nelson was invested with the honours of the Bath.

On the 28th March Sir John Jervis was reinforced by a squadron from England, when he shifted his flag on the 30th from the “Victory” to the Ville de Paris, a new three-decked ship.

The fleet sailed next day (the “Victory” being now a private ship) and proceeded off Cadiz, where Nelson had been cruising for some time watching the Spanish ships, who, ever since the 16th of February had lain in that port, hooted and jeered at by the populace, and their Admirals and Captains disgraced.

Jervis blockaded Cadiz during the summer, the “Victory” serving in sometimes the outer, sometimes the in-shore squadron, and sending her boats to take part in the night attacks, undertaken by Commodore Nelson, with the hopes of shaming the Spaniards to come out. On one of these occasions, 5th July, some of her men were wounded. But the Dons were not to be lured out, and on the approach of winter, Earl St. Vincent withdrew his vessels to the Tagus, and amongst other ships sent the “Victory” home, with the prizes taken on February 14th. She arrived at Spithead on October 1st, and thence going to Chatham, paid off on November 26th, after another long and eventful commission of nearly five years duration.

Worn out, and unfit for further active service, the poor old “Victory” was here degraded to the office of prison hospital ship, which she filled for two years, when, unwilling that such a favourite and fast sailing ship should be lost to the country, the Admiralty directed her to be thoroughly repaired. This took a year, and in the spring of 1801 she came out of dock almost a new ship, but she was not ready for service in the Baltic campaign of that date, and had rest at Chatham for still two years.

The peace concluded between England and France in 1802 was not of long duration, for on April 29th, 1803, war was again declared; this had been foreseen, and early in the month, great preparations were made in all the dockyards. Lord Nelson was appointed Commander-in-Chief in the Mediterranean, and selected the “Victory” as his flagship. She was commissioned at Chatham, on April 9th, and on 16th May arrived at Spithead. Nelson was waiting for her, but could not get away for a few days; and such was his impatience to sail, that in answer to everyone who spoke to him on the 19th of his departure, he said, “I cannot sail till to-morrow, and that’s an age.”

He went on board on the 20th, and sailed in a violent squall of wind and rain the same afternoon, having orders to speak Admiral Cornwallis off Brest, and if necessary to leave the “Victory” with him, and go on a frigate. On the 22nd he was in sight of Brest, but no Cornwallis was to be seen, and after chafing for a day, his anxiety did not permit him to wait any longer, so striking his flag in the “Victory,” he went on board the Amphion, leaving the former ship to find the Admiral of the Channel Fleet, and if not required, to follow him with all speed.

Within forty hours after Lord Nelson left him, Captain Sutton met Lord Cornwallis, and was immediately permitted to resume his voyage. A few days after, the “Victory” fell in with the Ambuscade, a French frigate, formerly an English one, which she re-captured, and on the 12th June, she anchored at Gibraltar. After watering, she left on the 15th, called at Malta on the 9th July, and on the 30th, joined the squadron of 5 line-of-battle ships, off Cape Sicie, when Lord Nelson at once shifted into her, bringing Captain T. Masterman Hardy with him, from the Amphion, Captain Sutton of the “Victory” exchanging.

For 18 months subsequent to this, there is no fact worth recording in the history of the “Victory.” During that time Lord Nelson, with a fleet that averaged 10 sail of the line, closely watched the road of Toulon, where a French fleet lay at anchor, going occasionally to Agincourt Sound, in Sardinia, for water, &c., but the French never showed any sign of moving, until the beginning of 1805, though every stratagem was tried to entice them to come out.

Spain had declared war with England on 12th December, 1804, and Buonaparte had formed a great plan for the invasion of Britain, the first step to the accomplishment of which, was to gain the command of the Channel. This could only be done by placing an overwhelming force of ships there, and by misleading the English as to his design. With this object in view, Admiral Villeneuve, who was now in command at Toulon, prepared for sea, and embarked on board his 11 ships, 3,500 soldiers.

His orders, as subsequently ascertained were, to proceed to the West Indies, effect a junction there with a fleet of 21 sail from Brest, land his troops, and if opportunity offered, ravage our colonies; then return with speed to Ferrol, where the Spaniards were to have a fleet of at least 25 sail ready to join him, and with this overpowering force, he was expected to keep our ships at bay, while the bold originator of this scheme, Napoleon, crossed the Channel himself, at the head of 170,000 men. We shall see how much easier this was to plan than to carry out.

On January 12th, 1805, well nigh worn out with watching, hoping, and fearing, his ships and their rigging rotten, Nelson left his station off Toulon, for the anchorage at Agincourt Sound, which he called his “home,” to water and refit, leaving his two frigates to watch the enemy.

The fleet now consisted of the following ships:—“Victory,” 104, Royal Sovereign, 100, Canopus, 80, Spencer, 74, Leviathan, 74, Tigre, 80, Superb, 74, Belleisle, 74, Swiftsure, 74, Conqueror, 74, Donegal, 74.

On the 17th Villeneuve put to sea, and on the 19th January, at 2 p.m., the fleet in Agincourt Sound was electrified by the appearance of the frigates, with the welcome signal flying, “enemy is at sea.” In two hours the ships were under weigh, and made sail for the passage between Biche and Sardinia, a passage so narrow that the ships had to proceed in single line, directed by the lights of their next ahead, and led by the “Victory,” who took them through in safety.

Nelson had nothing to guide him as to where the French were bound, but he knew they could not be far off, and dispatched the few frigates he had to scour the coasts in search, but all to no purpose—no tidings could be obtained. A gale that arose on the 21st, and that lasted a week, blew in the teeth of the fleet as it attempted to go south, and Nelson was wild at the thought that they had escaped him. The only place his reasoning led him to suppose they could have sailed for, was Egypt, and thither he turned his ships’ heads. He arrived off Alexandria on 7th February, but found no sign of them there either; immediately he retraced his steps, and called off Malta, and here he learnt that the French fleet were dispersed and disabled by the gale on the 21st, and had returned to Toulon, scattered and crippled.

Nelson, in a letter to Admiral Collingwood, thus writes on the subject. “Buonaparte has often made his brags that our fleet would be worn out by keeping the sea; that his was kept in order and increasing by being kept in port; but he now finds I fancy, if Emperors hear truth, that his fleet suffers more in one night, than ours in a year.”

By March 12th, the British fleet, after struggling with a continuation of gales, succeeded in regaining their station off Toulon, and to their joy, saw the enemy still at anchor, and after watching them till the 27th, they proceeded to Palma Bay to get that refit they so much required, as during all this cruise, every ship had been strained to her utmost.

Villeneuve took the first opportunity to escape again, after his ships were repaired, and on 29th March ran out of Toulon roads; on the 31st he was discovered off Cape Sicie, by the Phœbe, which vessel lost no time in communicating her intelligence to the Admiral, who was again on his way to Toulon; and once more the exciting chase began. The frigates, most unfortunately, lost the French ships, and could give no intelligence of their apparent destination. Again Nelson thought of Egypt, and proceeded off Sicily, sending ships right and left to get information, and on the 15th April, when off Palermo, he first heard of the evident intention of the enemy to go westward. At once he made sail in pursuit, but the fates were against him, and while the French in their passage down the Spanish coast had been favoured with easterly winds, he could get nothing but westerly gales. “I believe,” he says, “this ill luck will go near to kill me.”

It was the 4th May, before the “Victory” and her consorts anchored in Tetuan Bay to water and provision. Sailing the next day, they put into Gibraltar for a few hours, and learnt nothing there, but that the enemy’s fleet had passed the Straits on the 8th April, nearly a month in advance of them. Nelson at once went to Cape St. Vincent, hoping to get news, and the next day he received the first reliable information from an American brig, which was to the effect, that on the 9th April, the French fleet of 11 sail had appeared off Cadiz, been joined by a squadron of five Spanish and 2 French line-of-battle ships, and immediately resumed their voyage. He then heard from an Admiral Campbell in the Portuguese service, that their destination was the West Indies; this tallied with his own ideas, and he instantly decided on following.

On May 10th he put into Lagos Bay to get more provisions, and on the 11th, having sent the Royal Sovereign back to the Mediterranean, as a slow sailer who was likely to hinder him, he started in pursuit of the 18 ships of the enemy, with but 10 of his own. His anxiety at this time was extreme; he was very ill, and had been told by his physicians that he ought to go home, but “salt beef and the French fleet is far preferable to roast beef and champagne without them;” he writes, “my health or my life even must not come into consideration at this important crisis.” Captain Hardy is reported to have said to him, “I suppose, my Lord, that by crowding all this sail you mean to attack those 18 ships?” “By God, Hardy,” said he, “that I do;” and on the passage over, he took every opportunity of making his plans known to his captains, that a success might be ensured if possible. Barbadoes was reached on June 4th, and here he received information that led him to suppose that either Tobago or Trinidad was the object of the combined fleet, who had been seen on the 28th May, and, embarking 2000 men, he hurried on for the latter island. Off Tobago he received corroborative news from an American schooner, who must have deceived him on purpose and all was preparation in the English fleet.

Early on the morning of the 7th June, the ships stood along the north shore of Trinidad; and had anything been wanting to confirm the intelligence they had received, it was supplied in the conflagration of a battery, that protected a little cove in the steep coast, and the flight of its garrison, who were seen speeding away in the direction of the town. The remembrance of Aboukir Bay rose in their minds, every man expected that the deeds of that glorious day would be repeated in the Gulf of Paria, and as the ships sailed, prepared for battle, through the Bocas of Trinidad, expectation was strained to the utmost, to catch the first glimpse of the enemy they fully relied on seeing on rounding the point.

What was their astonishment then on coming in view of the town, to find the Union Jack still waving over the forts, and no French men-of-war to be seen.

Nelson at once anchored for the night without communication, and early next morning sailed for Grenada.

In the meantime, the town of Puerto d’Espana, the capital of Trinidad, was the scene of the wildest excitement. The lieutenant of artillery in command of the above-mentioned out-post, finding a fleet close to him in the morning, and making no doubt it was that of the enemy (for no one knew of Nelson’s arrival in the West Indies), had burnt his barracks, thrown his guns over the cliff, and hastened back to the town, spreading dismay with the intelligence that the French were upon them. The inhabitants at once fled to the interior, the troops were drawn into the forts, and the town was left at the mercy of the French Republicans, of whom there were many in the island, and who now came forward and proclaimed themselves, believing their friends were at hand.

The movements of the fleet were inexplicable to the governor, and he was at once puzzled and relieved, when daylight revealed the strange ships underweigh, and leaving their shores. It was some days before the mystery was explained, and they learnt that Nelson had paid them a visit.

He, in the meanwhile, was hurrying along the chain of islands to the north, getting information, true or false, every day. On the 11th he heard that the enemy, now consisting of 20 sail, had passed Antigua, steering northward; and at once concluding that they were bound for Europe, he landed the troops at Antigua on the 12th, and left next day for Gibraltar, not without hopes of still catching them up.

This promptitude on the part of Nelson in following Villeneuve to the West Indies, doubtless saved some of our possessions there, as there was no force to withstand the combined fleets; but such was the terror of his name, that no sooner did the enemy hear of his approach, although he had but half their number of ships, than they immediately started again on their return, without attempting to carry out that part of their programme, which directed them to ravage our colonies.

Nelson’s squadron, after a most tedious voyage, arrived at Gibraltar on July 20th, when he went on shore; this was the first time for two years that he had put his foot out of the “Victory,” for such had been his anxiety during his long blockade of Toulon to be ready at any moment, that it had never suffered him to leave his ship for an instant. Nothing up to this time had been heard of the enemy, and the indefatigable Nelson, after watering and provisioning at Tetuan, sailed again on the 23rd July.

He spoke Admiral Collingwood’s squadron on 26th, and receiving information that the enemy had gone to the northward, he proceeded for Ushant, off which, on August 15th, he met Admiral Cornwallis with the Channel fleet of 24 sail of the line, and from him received an order to leave eight of the ships with him, and repair with “Victory” and Superb to Portsmouth.

The two ships arrived at Spithead on the 18th, when they were put in quarantine for a day, to Nelson’s great indignation; they were then released, and Nelson went to his home at Merton, to get that rest he so badly needed. The “Victory” remained at Spithead, and did what repairs she could at that anchorage during her brief stay.

A short account of the proceedings of the combined fleets up to this time, may tend to the elucidation of the state of affairs.

When Villeneuve made his escape from the Mediterranean, the Brest squadron attempted to put to sea to join him at Martinique, but the determined front put on by Lord Gardner, who commanded the Channel fleet, then blockading Brest, daunted the enemy, who put back again into port. This was failure number one, in Buonaparte’s scheme.

We have followed Villeneuve with his 20 sail of French and Spanish line-of-battle ships to Antigua; thence he proceeded for Brest, intending to effect a junction with the fleet awaiting him there; but on July 22nd, Sir Robert Calder, who was watching Ferrol and had been warned by a frigate from Lord Nelson of the probable approach of the enemy, met and engaged him, and though he numbered but 15 to 20, he took two ships of the line, and forced the French admiral from his design. This was the second breakdown in the programme; however, Villeneuve got into Ferrol and joined the ships there, which made his force 29 sail of the line, and with these he sailed on August 9th, but, for some unexplained cause, instead of now making his way to Brest, he turned south and entered Cadiz on the 21st, driving off Admiral Collingwood’s small squadron.

On September 2nd, Captain Blackwood, on his way to London with the news of the combined fleets having left Ferrol, called at 5 a.m. at Merton, where he found Lord Nelson up and dressed; the latter immediately said, “you bring me news of the French and Spanish fleets, I shall have to give them a drubbing yet;” and going up to town with him, offered his services to the Admiralty. These were gladly accepted, and the “Victory” again hoisted his flag on September 15th, and sailed the same day in company with the Euryalus, Captain Blackwood, which frigate he afterwards despatched ahead to direct that the “Victory” should not be saluted on her arrival, in order that the enemy should be unaware of the reinforcement. On the 28th of the same month he joined, and took command of, the fleet off Cadiz, which, by the junction of Sir Robert Calder’s ships to Admiral Collingwood’s now consisted of 29 sail.

On October 4th, Nelson dispatched Rear-Admiral Louis with 5 sail of the line to Gibraltar, but a small squadron from England joined a few days afterwards, making up his fleet to the following 27 sail of the line.

Before continuing our narrative, we must again remind our readers that this is but the history of one ship, and that in our account of Trafalgar, only a sufficient general description of the movements of the fleet will be given, to render the “Victory’s” part intelligible; for details, we must again refer to James’s Naval History, where the most complete account of the action that has been published, will be found.

On 19th October, the Franco-Spanish fleet, of 33 sail of the line, under Admiral Villeneuve, as Commander-in-Chief, and Admiral Gravina, (Spanish), as second, came out of Cadiz, and, after some manœuvring, at daylight on the 21st, the two fleets were in sight of one another, being then about 20 miles west of Cape Trafalgar. The wind was light, from the W.N.W., and the enemy were in a straggling line on the starboard tack, under easy sail; the British fleet were in two columns on the port tack, and some ten miles dead to windward. At 6.50, the “Victory” made the signal to bear up, on which the enemy wore together, thus presenting his port broadside to the English fleet, which bore down with a very light wind right aft, and with all studding sails set; the “Victory” leading the port line, and the Royal Sovereign the starboard, the latter being somewhat in advance.

Thus the British very slowly closed with the enemy, Lord Nelson refusing to allow the Temeraire, his next astern, to take the lead, and thereby bear the brunt of the battle. His Lordship visited the decks of his ship, exhorted his men not to throw away a shot, and was received with cheers as he again went on deck. Having made every other signal to his fleet he thought necessary, he finished with that most celebrated one—“England expects that every man will do his duty,”—which, at 11.40, was hoisted at the “Victory’s” mizen-topgallant-masthead, and was received by most of the ships with cheers.

This made, Lord Nelson’s customary signal on going into action—“Engage the enemy more closely”—was hoisted at the main, and there remained until the mast was shot away.

At noon, the action commenced by the Fougoeux opening fire on the Royal Sovereign, on which the British Admirals hoisted their flags, and all their ships the white ensign, having also, each, two Union Jacks in the rigging. Twenty minutes later the enemy’s ships ahead of the “Victory” began a furious cannonade on her, which killed in a short time amongst many others, Mr. Scott, Lord Nelson’s secretary. Seeing Nelson’s intention to break the line, the enemy closed up ahead of him, making an almost impenetrable line; but the “Victory” still held her course, and steered straight for the mass of ships grouped round the Bucentaure, a French 80, on board of which was Villeneuve, the French Commander-in-Chief, though he never showed his flag during the action.

Nelson directed Captain Hardy to run on board any ship he chose, as it was evident they could not pass through the line without a collision, and at 12.30, not having as yet fired a single shot, the “Victory” passed slowly under the stern of the Bucentaure, so close as almost to be able to catch hold of her ensign, and discharge the port guns in succession right into her cabin windows, placing about 400 men hors de combat, by that one broadside, and almost disabling her from further resistance. The position of the ships at this moment is shown in the accompanying plan.

At the same time the “Victory” fired her starboard guns at two vessels on that side of her, and five minutes later ran on board the Redoutable, a French 74, hooking her boom iron into the Frenchman’s topsails, and so dropped alongside, the “Victory” being on the Redoutable’s port side, and the latter closing her lower deck ports to prevent boarding. A tremendous cannonade ensued, the “Victory” firing her port guns at the Bucentaure and Santissima Trinidada, her starboard ones being very fully employed by the Redoutable which was so close alongside, that the men on the “Victory’s” lower deck on each discharge dashed a bucket of water into the hole made in the enemy’s side by the shot, to prevent the spread of the fire that might have destroyed both ships indiscriminately.

During this time the British ships were coming into action one after another, but very slowly, as the wind, light all the morning, had now fallen to a mere air, barely sufficient to bring all our vessels up; thus the first ships engaged had dreadful odds against them, and the loss of life in them was great.

After bringing the Redoutable to close action as before described, Lord Nelson and Captain Hardy, side by side, calmly walked the centre of the quarter deck, from the poop to the hatchway. At about 1.25, in their walk forward his Lordship turned a little short of the hatchway, Captain Hardy took the other step, and turned also, and beheld the Admiral in the act of falling. He had been wounded by a musket ball fired from the mizen-top of the Redoutable, which struck him in the left shoulder as he turned, and thence descending, lodged in the spine. He sank on to the very spot that was still red with his secretary’s blood, and was raised by Sergeant Secker, of the Marines, and two seamen, who under Captain Hardy’s directions, bore him to the cockpit. “They have done for me at last, Hardy,” said the hero as he fell. “I hope not,” said Hardy. “Yes,” was the reply, “they have shot my backbone through.” But his presence of mind was still strong, and he gave directions for the tautening of the tiller ropes as he was carried below, and covered his face and decorations with a handkerchief, that he might not be recognised.

The cockpit was crowded with wounded, and with difficulty he was borne to a place on the port side, at the foremost end of it, and placed on a purser’s bed with his back resting against one of the wooden knees of the ship. Here the surgeon examined his wound, and at once pronounced it mortal.

In the meantime the battle raged furiously, the men stationed in the Redoutable’s tops (Nelson would allow none in the “Victory,” for fear of setting fire to the sails), had nearly cleared the “Victory’s” upper deck, 40 men being killed or wounded on the deck alone. The French, seeing this, attempted to board, but were driven back with great gallantry by the few men that remained, headed by Captain Adair, of the Marines.

At about 1.50 the Redoutable ceased firing, and two midshipmen and a few men were sent from the “Victory” to assist in putting out a fire that had burst out on board of her, and the “Victory” then proceeded to get herself clear, leaving her prize lashed to the Temeraire, that had just fouled her on the other side. The “Victory” was by this time so crippled in her spars and sails that all efforts on her part to get into close action (Lord Nelson’s favourite position), with another enemy were ineffectual; but she still continued engaged on the port side with the Santissima Trinidada and other ships; and later, with a fresh batch of the enemy’s ships that passed along the line and eventually escaped.

By 4.30 p.m. the action was over, and a victory was reported to Lord Nelson just before his death. We left him in the cockpit, where he was attended by Dr. Scott, the chaplain, and Mr. Burke, the purser. He had sent the doctor away to attend to the other wounded, and lay in great agony, fanned with paper by those two officers, and giving his last directions as to those he loved; but ever and anon interrupted by the cheers of the “Victory’s” crew, he would ask the cause, and being told it was a fresh enemy’s ship that had struck her flag, his eye would flash as he expressed his satisfaction. He frequently asked for Captain Hardy, and that officer not being able to leave the deck, his anxiety for his safety became excessive, and he repeated, “he must be killed;” “he is surely destroyed.” An hour had elapsed before Hardy was able to come to him, when they shook hands, and the Admiral asked—“How goes the day with us.” “Very well, my Lord,” was the reply; “we have about 12 of the enemy in our possession.”

After a few minutes of conversation, Hardy had again to return on deck, and shortly after the “Victory’s” port guns redoubled their fire on some fresh ships coming down on her, and the concussion so affected Lord Nelson that he cried in agony, “Oh! ‘Victory!’ ‘Victory!’ how you distract my poor brain;” but, weak and in pain as he was, he indignantly rebuked a man, who in passing through the crowded cockpit struck against and hurt one of the wounded.

Captain Hardy again visited him in about another hour, and, holding his Lordship’s hand, congratulated him on a brilliant victory, saying, he was certain that 14 ships had surrendered. “That is well,” he answered, “but I bargained for 20.” Then, Hardy having again to go on deck, Nelson after emphatically telling him to anchor, and declaring his intention to direct the fleet as long as life remained, said, “kiss me Hardy,” the Captain knelt down and kissed him, when he said, “Now I am satisfied. Thank God I have done my duty.” Twenty minutes later he quietly passed away, having again and again repeated to his last breath, the words above mentioned. They were, it has been well remarked, the whole history of his life.

On the firing ceasing, the “Victory” had lost 57 killed and 103 wounded, and found herself all but a wreck. The tremendous fire to which she was exposed, when leading her line into action, had caused great damage, at a very early period of the battle, and before she herself fired a gun, many of her spars were shot away, and great injury was done to the hull, especially the fore part of it.

At the conclusion of the action, she had lost her mizen-mast, the fore-topmast had to be struck to save the foremast; the mainmast was not much better, and it took all the exertions of her crew to refit the rigging sufficiently to stand the bad weather that followed.

The actual number of prizes taken by 5 p.m., on October 21st, were 19; so that Nelson’s desired number was nearly made up; but from their disabled condition, they were nearly all wrested from us by the gales that succeeded the battle. Lord Nelson had doubtless foreseen this, and thence his wish to anchor, and as a matter of fact, most of those few ships and prizes that did anchor, rode the gale out in safety and were saved; but the majority of the vessels were either anchorless, or in such deep water that they could not with convenience anchor.

The “Victory’s” trophy, the Redoutable, was one of those that sunk after the action in deep water, and in her, as in many of the other vessels lost, went down her prize crew of British seamen. The English fleet were in nearly as disabled a state as their prizes, as might be expected after such a battle, and it is a matter of wonder that some of them were not lost on the treacherous shoal that swallowed up so many of the captured ships.

The enemy’s fleet of 33 sail was disposed of as follows: