Nelson: The Essential Hero (56 page)

Collingwood in the
Royal Sovereign
, which had recently been coppered, was drawing ahead and, though Nelson had hoped to bring the
Victory
in the van of the windward column into action first, it was clear the honour would go to his second-in-command. ‘See how that noble fellow Collingwood takes his ship into action! ’ he commented as the
Royal Sovereign
came under fire from the huge, dark
Santa Anna
, the second largest warship in the world, mounting 122 guns. Collingwood, for his part, remarked to his captain : ‘Rotherham, what would Nelson give to be here!’ A few minutes later the
Victory
herself came under fire, long ranging shots, the first falling short, the second almost alongside, and the third over - good gunnery. At this point Nelson despatched his frigate captains, and Blackwood, as he left the man he admired above all others in the world, crossed the
Victory's
side ‘with a heart very sad’. The last words he heard from Nelson were clear and distinct: ‘God bless you, Blackwood; I shall never speak to you again.’

The sixth shot fired at the
Victory
went through her main topgallant sail. The enemy now had her range and six ships or more opened a concentrated fire on her. A round shot screaming across her quarter-deck almost cut in half the Admiral’s secretary as he was talking to Hardy. Captain Adair of the Marines ordered some seamen to throw the body overboard. ‘Is that poor Scott?’ asked Nelson, adding ‘Poor fellow ! ’ A few minutes later Mr Whipple, the Captain’s clerk, was killed and then a shot struck a group of marines stationed on the quarter-deck, killing eight of them. Nelson ordered Adair to disperse his men around the ship. Another shot now hit the forebrace bitts and a splinter struck the buckle of Hardy’s shoe and bruised his foot. The two men were pacing the quarter-deck together and both stopped instinctively and looked to see if the other was hurt. ‘This is too warm work to last long,’ Nelson commented and they resumed their walk. Nelson was making a feint of attacking the enemy van so that Collingwood should be ‘as little interrupted as possible’ and, the objective now attained, the order was given to port the helm. She had been at least twenty minutes under concentrated fire without being able to return a single shot. Many men were dead, her rigging had been damaged, and her main topmast, with studding-sail and booms still set, had been shot away. The wheel had been hit and shattered so that she had to be steered by tackles from below. Now it was her turn. As the poet Thomas Campbell wrote : . . . When each gun From its adamantine lips Spread a death-shade round the ships Like a hurricane-eclipse Of the sun.

The
Victory
passed close under the stern of Villeneuve’s flagship the
Bucentaure
, firing first her fo’c’sle carronade and then discharging a ripple broadside double-shotted. It was as if a hurricane had hit the Frenchman as the shot tore through the entire length of the ship, putting twenty guns out of action and, according to the French estimate, killing or wounding four hundred men. Collingwood had already broken the line, and now it was Nelson’s turn. Hardy had

The Battle of Trafalgar
told him that he could not get through without running on board one of the enemy ships, to which he had replied : ‘Take your choice, it does not signify which. Hardy accordingly chose Captain Lucas
Redoutable,
which happened to be the most efficient and best-manned ship in the Combined Fleet, and ran on board her, the
Victory's
main yard catching in the Frenchman's rigging and locking the two vessels together.
Victory's
starboard guns were now pouring round upon round into the
Redoutable's
side while her port batteries engaged the enormous
Santissima Trinidad
which lay ahead of her. Lucas men, who had been specially trained in marksmanship and the use of hand grenades, several times nearly cleared the
Victory's
decks and at one moment were on the point of boarding her. The
Temeraire
ranging up on the starboard side came to the aid of her flagship and inflicted such a devastating fire on the
Redoutable
that she sank on the following day. Everywhere the smoke of battle covered the slowly heaving sea as ship after ship came up, picked an opponent, and went into action. The enemy's backbone was broken, and now the melee which Nelson had wanted to bring about was developing all over the battle arena.

The
Victory
had been in action for an hour when, at about a quarter past one, Hardy turned in his walk and suddenly realised that he was alone. He looked back and saw the Admiral on his knees, with the fingertips of his left hand just touching the deck. Then Nelson’s arm gave way and he fell on his left side. He collapsed on the very spot where Scott had been killed.

Sergeant-Major Seeker of the Marines and two seamen ran to the Admiral’s assistance and gently raised him up. Hardy too was at his side and, bending his tall frame over the frail figure, caught the words, ‘They have done for me at last,’ and, when he made a protestation, Nelson answered, ‘Yes, my backbone is shot through.’ Hardy told the men to carry the Admiral below to the cockpit and resumed his pacing of the quarter-deck. As far as all the other engaged ships knew, Nelson still directed the battle. Hardy, as his Captain, was his Admiral’s representative. As long as Nelson lived, the
Victory
remained the flagship.

The
three men passed through the middle deck, as they carried the Admiral down to the red cockpit below the waterline. Nelson, alert even at this moment, noticed that the tiller ropes needed to be re-rove and ordered that this should be attended to immediately. He then drew a handkerchief out of his pocket and covered his face as well as his Orders, so that he might not be noticed by the crew. Dr Scott, the chaplain, was hastening out of the cockpit, overcome by his first sight of the ‘butcher’s shambles’ that it became in action, when his attention was drawn to the Admiral. Although his only wish had been to get away for a few minutes from the horror below, he at once turned back, and stayed with Nelson to the end. The surgeon, Mr William Beatty, who wrote an admirable account,
The Authentic Narrative of the Death of Lord Nelson
in 1807, is the best witness of his last hours. He also tells the circumstances of his wounding : It is by no means certain, though highly probable, that Lord Nelson was particularly aimed at by the Enemy. There were only two Frenchmen left alive in the mizen-top of the
Redoutable
at the time of His Lordship’s being wounded, and by the hands of one of these he fell. These men continued firing at Captains Hardy and Adair, Lieutenant Roteley of the Marines, and some of the Midshipmen on the
Victory’s
poop, for some time afterwards. At length one of them was killed by a musket-ball: and on the other’s then attempting to make his escape, Mr Pollard (Midshipman) fired his musket at him, and shot him in the back; when he fell dead from the shrouds, on the
Redoutable’
s poop.

The Admiral was now put in a midshipman’s berth, the marine and two sailors went back to their duties, and Mr Burke, the purser, helped to undress him. Under his shirt Nelson was wearing a miniature depicting Lady Hamilton as a Bacchante. Beatty took Nelson’s pulse and, after examining him, concluded that the musket ball had gone deep into the chest. (It had in fact entered through Nelson’s left epaulette, taking some of the cloth and the gold with it, broken two ribs, severed a main branch of the left pulmonary artery, and then fractured the sixth and seventh dorsal vertebrae.) ‘Ah, Mr Beatty! Nelson murmured, ‘You can do nothing for me. I have but a short time to live : my back is shot through.’ While he was being undressed he had said in an urgent and agitated manner to Dr Scott, ‘Doctor, I told you so, Doctor, I am gone ! and then, after a pause, ‘Remember me to Lady Hamilton! Remember me to Horatia!’ Beatty's account states that he added in a low voice, ‘I have to leave Lady Hamilton, and my adopted daughter Horatia, as a legacy to my country. On Beatty's asking him what were his sensations, Nelson answered that ‘he felt a gush of blood every minute within his breast: that he had no feeling in the lower part of his body : and that his breathing was difficult, and attended with very severe pain about that part of the spine where he was confident that the ball had struck.

Beatty realised that the case was hopeless, but concealed his condition from all but Hardy, who had of necessity to be informed. Although Nelson repeatedly asked for him, Hardy was too busy on the upper deck to come below until nearly three o'clock. The
Victory
had for a time been one of a group of four ships, all foul of one another, the
Redoutable
, the
Temeraire
and the
Fougueux.
The two Frenchmen had finally been subdued, after an action in which Lucas
Redoutable
had been fought with astonishing courage, and had lost the greater part of her crew. The
Victory
, which by now had come clear on her own, was in imminent danger of being attacked by five of the French van. When Hardy finally came below Nelson had passed his initial agitation and was cool and lucid. Beatty recalled the dialogue: ‘ “Well, Hardy, how goes the battle? How goes the day with us?” ’

‘ “Very well, my Lord. We have got twelve or fourteen of the Enemy's ships in our possession; but five of their van have tacked, and shew an intention of bearing down upon the
Victory.
I have, therefore, called two or three of our fresh ships round us, and have no doubt of giving them a drubbing.

‘ “I hope none of
our
ships have struck, Hardy?” ’

‘ “No, my Lord, there is no fear of that.” ’

‘ “I am a dead man, Hardy. I am going fast: it wall be all over with me soon. Come nearer to me. Pray let my dear Lady Hamilton have my hair, and all other things belonging to me.” ’

Shortly afterwards Hardy shook his hand and took his leave. He could no longer conceal from Collingwood the condition of his chief and sent a message across to tell him that the Admiral was mortally wounded. Beatty, who was still attending him, was told by Nelson to return to his other patients for ‘you can do nothing for me’. Finally he complied and Dr Scott, Mr Burke, Nelson’s steward Chevalier, and another of his personal servants stayed in attendance on the dying man. It was hot and airless in the evil-smelling cockpit and Nelson felt a hunger for air and a great thirst due to his severe haemorrhage. A paper fan was constructed and he was constantly fanned while lemonade was brought to him. Every now and then the whole area would shake and the lights in the horn lanterns would dance and shiver as the
Victory
opened fire. Then there was a great noise of cheering and, on Nelson inquiring what was the cause, Lieutenant Pasco, who was lying wounded nearby, explained that the men were cheering because yet another ship had struck. Beatty, who had been away attending to the other wounded, among them a midshipman who had lost a leg, came back again to see the Admiral. Upon his inquiring whether the pain was still intense, he was told that, ‘it continued so very severe, that he wished he was dead’. Then he added in a low voice, ‘One would like to live a little longer, too,’ and after a pause, ‘What would become of poor Lady Hamilton, if she knew my situation! ’

Hardy came down again about fifty minutes after his first visit and shook Nelson’s hand. Beatty noted that this time he did not relinquish it, as ‘he congratulated him even in the arms of Death on his brilliant victory; which, he said, was complete; though he did not know how many of the enemy were captured, as it was impossible to perceive every ship distinctly. He was certain however of fourteen or fifteen having surrendered. His Lordship answered, “That is well, but I bargained for twenty:” and then emphatically exclaimed, “
Anchor
, Hardy,
anchor
!” To this the Captain replied : “I suppose, my Lord, Admiral Collingwood will now take upon himself the direction of affairs.” “Not while I live, I hope, Hardy!” cried the dying Chief; and at that moment endeavoured ineffectually to raise himself from the bed. “No,” added he; “do
you
anchor, Hardy.” Upon Hardy’s asking whether
Victory
should make the signal Nelson answered, “Yes, for if I live, I’ll anchor.”

‘He was determined to retain command until his last breath which, indeed, he felt was imminent for he added in a low tone : “Don’t throw me overboard, Hardy.” Never a man of words, all that the tall West Country man could find to say was : “Oh no, certainly not.”

‘ “Then you know what to do,” Nelson replied. “And take care of my dear Lady Hamilton, Hardy. Take care of poor Lady Hamilton. Kiss me Hardy.” ’

The Captain, Beatty recorded, ‘now knelt down and kissed his cheek, when his Lordship said : “Now I am satisfied; thank God, I have done my duty.” Captain Hardy stood for a minute or two in silent contemplation: he then knelt down again, and kissed His Lordship’s forehead. His Lordship said : “Who is that?” The Captain answered : “It is Hardy”, to which his Lordship replied, “God bless you, Hardy!” ’