Part 16

J. G. Peake 1st lieutenant, R.M. George A. Westphal Midshipman Richard Bulkeley Do. John Geoghegan Clerk to agent victualler Josiah McPherson L.M. Thomas Graham Ordinary Thomas Collard Ab. Robert Phillips L.M. John Kinsale Ordinary Charles Legge L.M. David Conn Do. Daniel Leary Ab. William Taylor Ordinary John Simm Ab. Samuel Cooper Do. William Gillett Ordinary John Bornkworth Do. Robert Gibson Ab. Angus McDonald Do. George Quinton Quarter-gunner Edward Grey Ordinary Samuel Brown Yeoman of powder-room William Butler Ab. Samuel Lovett Do. Daniel Munro Do. James Curry Do. Michael McDonald Ordinary William Fall Ab. Michael Pennill Do. Thomas Pain Do. John Knight Boatswain’s mate

_Marines_

Giovanni Giunti Private Charles Chappele Do. Samuel Green Do. James Fagen Do. Isaac Harris Do. John Dutton Do. George Graves Do. James Rogers Do. George Coulston Do. Nicholas le Contre Do. Thomas Crofton Do.

Killed 54 Dangerously wounded 25 Badly wounded 12 Slightly wounded 42”

One or two eye-witnesses’ accounts from on board the _Victory_, at and immediately after Trafalgar, give interesting glimpses of what went on in the ship during the fight. First of all, there is the formal, matter-of-fact tale as set out in the log:—

“At 11.30 the enemy opened upon the _Royal Sovereign_. At 11.40 the _Royal Sovereign_ commenced firing on the enemy. At 11.50, the enemy began firing on us and the _Téméraire_.

“At noon, standing for the enemy’s tenth ship, with all possible (sail) set. Light airs and cloudy. Standing towards the enemy’s van with all sail set. At 4 minutes past 12, opened our fire on the enemy’s van in keeping down their line. At 20 minutes past 12, in attempting to pass through the enemy’s line, we fell on board of the 10th and 11th ships, when the action became general. About 1.15, the Right Honourable Lord Viscount Nelson, K.B., and Commander-in-Chief was wounded in the shoulder.

“At 1.30 the _Redoutable_ having struck her colours we ceased firing our starboard guns, but continued engaging the _Santisima Trinidad_ and some of the enemy’s ships on the larboard side. Observed the _Téméraire_ between the _Redoutable_ and another French ship of the Line, both of which had struck. Observed the _Royal Sovereign_ with the loss of her main and mizen-masts, and some of the enemy’s ships around her dismasted. At 3.10 observed four sail of the enemy’s van tack and stand along our line to windward. Fired our larboard guns at those which could reach them. At 3.40 made the signal for our ships to keep their wind and engage the enemy’s van coming along our weather line. At 4.15 the Spanish Rear-Admiral to windward struck to some of our ships which had tacked after them. Observed one of the enemy’s ships blow up, and 14 sail of the enemy standing towards Cadiz, and 3 sail of the enemy standing to the southward. Partial firing continued until 4.30, when a victory having been reported to the Right Honourable Lord Viscount Nelson, K.B., and Commander-in-Chief, he then died of his wound.”

Then we have this personal narrative from one of the men on deck, as told in a quaint letter which James Bagley, a marine of the _Victory_, wrote home to his sister, while the ship was lying at Spithead with Nelson’s body on board, awaiting orders to proceed round to the Nore:—

“_Victory_, SPITHEAD, _Dec. 5, 1805_.

“DEAR SISTER,

“Comes with my kind love to you are in good health so thank God I am; for I am very certain that it is by his mercy that me and my country is, and you and your religion is kept up; for it has pleased the Almighty God for to give us a complete victory of the combined fleets of France and Spain; for there was a signal for them being out of Cadiz the 19th of October, but we did not see them till the 21st, in the morning, and about 12 o’clock we gave three cheers, and then the engagement began very hot on both sides, but about five o’clock the victory was ours, and twenty sail-of-the-line struck to us. They had 34 sail-of-the-line and we had 27 of the line, but the worst of it was, the flower of the country, Lord Nelson, got wounded at twelve minutes past one o’clock, and closed his eyes in the midst of victory. Dear sister, it pleased the Lord to spare my life, and my brother Thomas his, for he was with the same gentleman. It was very sharp for us, I assure you, for we had not a moment’s time till it was over, and the 23rd of the same instant we got a most shocking gale of wind, and we expected to go to the bottom, but, thanks be to God, He had mercy on us, for every ship of ours got safe into harbour, and all the French but four got knocked to pieces on the rocks. So that is the most I can tell you of it, for the English is in a right cause you may depend on it, or else the Lord would not have had the mercy on us as He has had, for we made five ships strike to the ship has I am in. We had 125 killed and wounded, and 1500 in the English fleet killed and wounded, and the enemy 12,000; so I shall leave you to judge how your country fight for the religion you enjoy, the laws you possess, and on the other hand how Bounaparte has trampt them causes down in the places he has had concern with, for nothing but torment is going forward. So never think it is disgrace to having brothers in service; but I have had pretty well on it, and when you write to our mother, give my love to my sister Betty and my poor mother, and send me word about her and you shall have your loving brother’s thanks. So must conclude with hoping this will bring you peace and love and unity. Then you and me and our dear mother will meet together to enjoy the fruits of the island as I have been fighting for. My dear, I shall just give you a description of Lord Nelson. He is a man about five feet seven, very slender, of an affable temper; but a rare man for his country, and has been in 123 actions and skrimmages, and got wounded with a small ball, but it was mortal. It was his last words, that it was his lot for me to go, but I am going to heaven, but never haul down your colours to France, for your men will stick to you. These words was to Captain Hardy, and so we did, for we came off victorious, and they have behaved well to us, for they wanted to take Lord Nelson from us, but we told Captain as we brought him out we would bring him home; so it was so, and he was put into a cask of spirits. So I must conclude. Your loving brother,

“JAMES BAGLEY.”[17]

After her arrival in English waters with Nelson’s body on board, the _Victory_, while on her way round to the Nore, was delayed for some days by head winds in the Downs. A very interesting letter from a visitor to her, dated from Dover, the 16th of December, 1805, is in existence.

“I am just come from on board the _Victory_,” says the writer. “She is very much mauled, both in her hull and rigging, has upwards of 80 shot between wind and water: the foremast is very badly wounded indeed, and though strongly fished, has sunk about six inches: the mainmast also is badly wounded, and very full of musket shots: she has a jury-mizen mast, and fore and main top masts, and has a great many shot in her bowsprit and bows; one of the figures which support the Arms has both the legs shot off. I clearly ascertained that Lord Nelson was killed by a shot from the main top of the _Redoutable_: he was standing on the starboard side of the quarter-deck with his face to the stern when the shot struck him, and was carried down into one of the wings: he lived about one hour, and was perfectly sensible until within five minutes of his death. When carrying down below, although in great pain, he observed the tiller ropes were not sufficiently tight, and ordered tackles to be got on them, which now remain. The ship he engaged was so close that they did not fire their great guns on board the enemy, but only musketry; and manned the rigging on board; but nearly the whole that left the deck were killed. The ship had 25 guns dismounted by the _Victory’s_ fire. A shot carried away four spokes from the wheel of the _Victory_, and never killed or wounded any of the men steering. Temporary places have been fitted up between the decks for the wounded men, which are warmed by stoves.”

We will take our leave of the _Victory_ for the present with a second letter, dated “Sheerness, the 24th of December,” on the _Victory’s_ arrival in the Medway, bound for her home port, Chatham, to repair there after the battle. It was just two days after Nelson’s remains had been removed to Greenwich Hospital on the way to St. Paul’s.

“The inhabitants of this place had yesterday the satisfaction of welcoming the old _Victory_ and her gallant crew to the River Medway: the noble ship passed close to the Garrison Point, and was received with an enthusiastic cheering from the shore, which was returned by her crew. The civilities of the officers of the _Victory_ have been beyond belief in satisfying the anxious curiosity of numbers who have been on board to see the ship and the spot where our gallant Nelson fell and died. The fatal bullet that deprived him of his valuable life is in the possession of the surgeon of the _Victory_, just as he extracted it from the body, with part of the epaulet and coat adhering to it. Many of the poor wounded fellows are on board, nearly well and in good spirits. The bullets in the lower part of the mainmast are so thick that it is surprising how anyone on the quarter-deck could have escaped, especially the brave Captain Hardy, whose amiable character seems to be the greatest alleviation the officers and crew of the _Victory_ have for the loss of their Nelson.”

UNDER FIRE WITH COLLINGWOOD

And when the loving cup’s in hand, And Honour leads the cry, They know not old Northumberland Who’ll pass his memory by.

When Nelson sailed from Trafalgàr With all his country’s best, He held them dear as brothers are, But one beyond the rest!

The splendid service that the _Royal Sovereign_ rendered on the 21st of October, 1805, should appeal to every British man and boy. In the words of Captain Blackwood—“Nelson’s Blackwood”—who watched the fight, written immediately after the battle, “of the _Victory_ and the _Royal Sovereign_ it is impossible to say which achieved the most.” The _Royal Sovereign_ had been with Nelson off Toulon in 1804. She had gone home to refit when Nelson went across the Atlantic in pursuit of Admiral Villeneuve. She rejoined the British fleet off Cadiz just ten days before Trafalgar, when Collingwood, who had hitherto had his flag in the _Dreadnought_, moved into her.

Two interesting preliminary glimpses of Admiral Collingwood on board the _Royal Sovereign_, on the morning of Trafalgar Day, are given us by his biographer, Mr. G. L. Newnham Collingwood, who had access to the Admiral’s papers and letters after his death, and took all possible pains to get together everything that could be gathered about him from those who served with Collingwood in the great battle.

Admiral Collingwood’s “personal conduct on that memorable day well deserves to be recorded. It has been said that no man is a hero in the eyes of his valet de chambre, but that this is not universally true is proved by the account which was given ... by Mr. Smith, Admiral Collingwood’s valued servant. ‘I entered the Admiral’s cabin,’ he observed, ‘about daylight, and found him already up and dressing. He asked if I had seen the French fleet, and on my replying that I had not, he told me to look out at them, adding that in a very short time we should see a great deal more of them. I then observed a crowd of ships to leeward, but I could not help looking with still greater interest at the Admiral, who, during all this time, was shaving himself with a composure that quite astonished me.’”

This is what Collingwood said to his flag-lieutenant and the other officers, on the Admiral’s first coming up on deck: “Admiral Collingwood dressed himself that morning with peculiar care, and soon after, meeting Lieutenant Clavell, advised him to pull off his boots. ‘You had better,’ he said, ‘put on silk stockings, as I have done; for if one should get a shot in the legs, they would be so much more manageable for the surgeon.’ He then proceeded to visit the decks, encouraged the men to the discharge of their duty, and, addressing the officers, said to them, ‘Now, gentlemen, let us do something to-day which the world may talk of hereafter.’”

Then we have this incident, which occurred in the forenoon, as the British fleet was closing on the enemy:—

“Lord Nelson had been requested by Captain Blackwood (who was anxious for the preservation of so invaluable a life) to allow some other vessel to take the lead, and at last gave permission that the _Téméraire_ should go ahead of him, but resolving to defeat the order which he had given, he crowded more sail on the _Victory_ and maintained his place. The _Royal Sovereign_ was far in advance when Lieutenant Clavell observed that the _Victory_ was setting her studding-sails, and with that spirit of honourable emulation which prevailed between the squadrons, and particularly between these two ships, he pointed it out to Admiral Collingwood, and requested his permission to do the same. ‘The ships of our line,’ replied the Admiral, ‘are not yet sufficiently up for us to do so now, but you may be getting ready.’ The studding-sail and royal halliards were accordingly manned, and in about ten minutes the Admiral, observing Lieutenant Clavell’s eyes fixed upon him with a look of expectation, gave him a nod, on which that officer went to Captain Rotherham and told him that the Admiral desired him to make all sail. The order was then given to rig out and hoist away, and in one instant the ship was under a crowd of sail, and went rapidly ahead. The Admiral then directed the officers to see that all the men lay down on the decks and were kept quiet.”

The _Royal Sovereign’s_ captain at Trafalgar, Collingwood’s flag-captain, was, like his Admiral, a gallant Northumbrian, Edward Rotherham, the son of a Hexham doctor. Of him that day the following story is told. As the battle was about to open, it was pointed out to Captain Rotherham that the unusually big cocked hat that he wore would probably render him a special target for the marksmen in the enemy’s tops. “Let me alone,” was all Rotherham’s reply, “Let me alone. I’ve always fought in a cocked hat and I always will!”

* * * * *

As pre-arranged by Nelson, the British lee column at Trafalgar, fifteen ships strong, began the action before the weather column, by leading down and breaking the enemy’s line near its centre. The manœuvre was begun a few minutes before noon, when, at Collingwood’s order, the _Sovereign_, with every sail set and every reef shaken out, dashed forward by herself, sailing “like a frigate,” ahead of the whole British fleet. Taking on herself the fire of the enemy’s line, centre and rear, as she advanced, she swept resistlessly under the stern of the Spanish flagship _Santa Anna_, a gigantic 112-gun three-decker, nearly a mile in front of Collingwood’s second astern, the _Belleisle_—“the most remarkable incident of the battle, a feat unparalleled in naval history,” as it has been called. “See,” exclaimed Nelson with delight to Captain Hardy, as he watched the _Sovereign’s_ advance; “see how that noble fellow Collingwood carries his ship into action!” Just at the moment, as it happened, on the _Royal Sovereign’s_ quarter-deck, Collingwood himself was saying to his captain, “Rotherham, what would not Nelson give to be here!”

We know from what a French officer at Trafalgar wrote, that the confident daring of the _Sovereign’s_ single-handed advance “positively appalled Villeneuve!”[18]

* * * * *

King George the Third, in effigy, led his own fleet that day. The _Royal Sovereign’s_ figure-head was an immense full-length carving of the King, represented in the battle-day panoply of a Roman Emperor, his sword at his side and a sceptre in hand, his red war cloak (_paludamentum_) on his shoulders, with two attendant winged figures, Fortune and Fame, blowing trumpets on either side.

* * * * *

As the _Sovereign_ closed on the enemy, a French ship, the _Fougueux_, ranged up close under the stern of the _Santa Anna_, as though to bar the passage through the line to Collingwood. Captain Rotherham noted this, and pointed it out to the Admiral. Collingwood’s reply was: “Steer straight for the Frenchman and take his bowsprit!” So they closed, and then, driving through the line just under the towering Spanish’s ship’s stern, the _Sovereign_ opened the fight with her full broadside treble-shotted. The terrific discharge, at one blow, it has been related, disabled fourteen guns, and put a large part of the crew _hors de combat_. “El rompio todos” were the words of an officer of the _Santa Anna_. After that the Sovereign ranged alongside the big Spaniard to leeward to fight the battle out gun-muzzle to gun-muzzle.

“In passing the _Santa Anna_” relates Mr. Newnham Collingwood, “the _Royal Sovereign_ gave her a broadside and a half into her stern, tearing it down, and killing and wounding 400 of her men. Then, with her helm hard a-starboard, she ranged up alongside so closely that the lower yards of the two vessels were locked together. The Spanish Admiral, having seen that it was the intention of the _Royal Sovereign_ to engage to leeward, had collected all his strength on the starboard, and such was the weight of the _Santa Anna’s_ metal, that her broadside made the _Sovereign_ heel two strakes out of the water.”

Even a moment like that, though, did not in the least perturb Collingwood. “Her studding-sails and halliards were now shot away, and as well as a top-gallant studding-sail were hanging over the gangway hammocks. Admiral Collingwood called out to Lieutenant Clavell to come and help him to take it in, observing that they should want it again some other day. These two officers accordingly rolled it carefully up and placed it in a boat.”

No sooner was the _Sovereign_ alongside the _Santa Anna_ than four other enemies—two French ships, the _Fougueux_ and the _Indomptable_, and two Spanish, the _San Leandro_ and the _San Justo_—closed round and joined in to help the _Santa Anna_.

So hot a cross fire did these four ships keep up on the single British ship during her, at first, unsupported fight, that, in the words of those on board the _Sovereign_, “We could see their shots meeting and smashing together in mid-air round us.” The _Fougueux_, we are also told, “at one time got so much on the quarter of the _Sovereign_ that she almost touched.” It was indeed a battle of the giants—a heroic defiance of heroic odds.

So magnificent, indeed, did the situation of the _Royal Sovereign_ appear, fighting single-handed in the thick of the enemy, that it drew remarks from some of our captains, for the time being lookers-on, on board the nearest ships that were then coming up astern. “The English ships,” to quote Admiral Collingwood’s biographer again, “were pressing forward with their utmost speed in support of their leader, but doubtful at times of his fate, and rejoicing when, on the slackening of the _Santa Anna’s_ fire, they discerned his flag still flying above the smoke. One of his most gallant followers and friend, the captain of the _Tonnant_, has often expressed the astonishment with which he regarded the _Royal Sovereign_ as she opened her fire, which, as he declared, ‘so arrested his attention, that he felt for a few moments as if he himself had nothing to do but to look on and admire!’”

How Collingwood bore himself in the battle we hear from two sources. Both accounts speak of Collingwood’s unmoved demeanour and cool courage under fire.

“The Admiral,” says one, “directed Captain Vallack, of the Marines, an officer of the greatest gallantry, to take his men from off the poop, that they might not be unnecessarily exposed; but he remained there himself much longer. At length, descending to the quarter-deck, he visited the men, enjoining them not to fire a shot in waste; looking himself along the guns to see that they were properly pointed, and commending the sailors, particularly a black man, who was afterwards killed, but who, while he stood beside him, fired ten times directly into the portholes of the _Santa Anna_.”

“The Admiral spoke to me,” related Smith, Collingwood’s servant, “about the middle of the action and again for five minutes immediately after its close; and on neither occasion could I observe the slightest change from his ordinary manner. This, at the moment, made an impression on me which will never be effaced, for I wondered how a person whose mind was occupied by such a variety of most important concerns could, with the utmost ease and equanimity, inquire kindly after my welfare, and talk of common matters as if nothing of any consequence were taking place.”

Twenty minutes after the _Sovereign_ had by herself beaten off the _Fougueux_, the leading British ships following astern of the _Sovereign_ began to reach the spot, and to take off her enemies one by one, except the _Santa Anna_. With Admiral Alava’s flagship the _Royal Sovereign_ continued in close encounter, until the _Santa Anna’s_ colours came down. It was just at that moment that Collingwood received, by an officer of the _Victory_, Captain Hardy’s first message that Lord Nelson had been “dangerously wounded.”

The stubborn stand that the _Santa Anna_ made was a disappointment, it would appear, to the _Sovereign’s_ men. Their terrible raking broadside at the outset had plainly “sickened” the Spaniards—as our men expressively put it—and many on board believed that the enemy must surrender forthwith. Captain Rotheram, indeed, “came up to the Admiral, and, shaking him by the hand, said: ‘I congratulate you, sir; she is slackening her fire, and must soon strike!’” The gallant fellows who were fighting at the _Royal Sovereign’s_ guns actually thought, it is on record, that their ship would have the proud distinction of capturing an enemy’s flagship in the midst of her own fleet before another British ship had got into action. In the end, though, they had this consolation: when at length the _Santa Anna_ did surrender; “No ship besides ourselves fired a shot at her,” wrote one of the _Sovereign’s_ officers, “and you can have no conception how completely she was ruined.” “Her side,” wrote Collingwood himself, “was almost entirely beat in.”