Chapter IX: On Board Our Flagships at Trafalgar:—captain Hardy and (7)
Instantly the order was given to prepare for sea. With extraordinary celerity the casks were got back into their tiers, and the powder was hurried into the magazines. The foremast was set up and the bowsprit replaced, the running rigging rove, and the sails were bent to the yards. Every man of the seven hundred on board the _Donegal_ was working his hardest in one way or another. It proved, though, a twenty-two hours’ job; it would have been a four days’ business in ordinary times. Before one o’clock on the morning of the 22nd they were hauling out from the Mole into the bay. Then sea-stores and provisions were taken on board. Before noon the _Donegal_ was ready for battle; a performance on which all concerned might justly pride themselves.
Not one of the other five ships was nearly so well advanced, although they also had been striving their hardest. Gibraltar is distant from the scene of the battle off Cape Trafalgar, as the crow flies, just fifty miles; but no sound of the firing reached there as it would appear, although at places further off, both in Spain and on the African coast, they heard the cannonading plainly. All on board the ships at Gibraltar still hoped to be in time for the expected battle, as it was to them.
A new spar had been ordered from the dockyard for the foreyard. It had not arrived by noon on the 23rd. It was forthcoming only at the last moment, just indeed as the _Donegal_ was in the act of weighing anchor. Sail was made at once, and they went out of Gibraltar Bay with the foreyard towing in the water alongside the ship, not yet hoisted on board.
They had to beat out in the teeth of the wild storm, blowing a hard gale from the south-west, that, up the coast beyond Tarifa, was wrecking our Trafalgar prizes. Clawing out against the head wind, the _Donegal_ won her way foot by foot, and by nightfall had gained the mouth of the Straits. Then they had to let go anchor, so as not to be swept back in spite of themselves. Next morning they weighed anchor, and once more went forward, forcing their way ahead against wind and storm and swamping seas.
Damaged British ships began, one by one, to come in sight during the forenoon. The _Belleisle_ was made out, totally dismasted, in tow of a frigate. Then the _Victory_ was seen, partially dismasted and also in tow. The _Donegal_ made her number to the flagship as she passed. A little time afterwards a third British man-of-war, with her three topmasts gone, came into view. It was the _Téméraire_. The _Donegal_ passed quite near, and hailed across: “What news?” The answer was shouted back from the _Téméraire_ through a speaking trumpet: “Nineteen sail of the line taken and Lord Nelson killed!”
On board the _Donegal_ all were listening with straining ears. As the trumpet bawled the direful intelligence across, a shudder, we are told, seemed to run through the whole ship, followed by a deep, long drawn-out groan, plainly heard on board the _Téméraire_ as that ship swept past on her way.
They reached Collingwood and the rest of the fleet off San Lucar a few hours later. At once the _Donegal_ found work to do in finishing off and taking possession of the stricken and dismasted Spanish three-decker _El Rayo_, one of the forlorn-hope squadron that had made the sortie from Cadiz on the 23rd, hoping to find the British fleet in serious distress after the battle and the storm, and to be able to recapture some of the prizes.
Most of _El Rayo’s_ men were taken on board the _Donegal_. In connection with one of them, Captain Brenton tells this story. “A man fell overboard from the _Donegal_ in a gale of wind on this occasion; the usual cry was raised, when some one thoughtlessly called out, ”He is only a Spaniard.” “Supposing he is only a Spaniard?” said a gallant English seaman, seizing the end of a rope, and darting into the sea at the same time; “no reason the poor ⸺ should be drowned!” Happy am I to say, from the information of Sir P. Malcolm, both men were picked up.
Besides that, the _Donegal_ rendered invaluable assistance to several of the badly-damaged British ships during the second gale between the 25th and the 28th; and in rescuing men from some of the prizes that had been driven ashore, or were in peril among the reefs here and there along the rock-bound coast.
Wrote Collingwood a day or two afterwards: “Everybody was sorry that Malcolm was not there, because everybody knows his spirit and skill would have acquired him honour. He got out of Gibraltar when nobody else could, and was of infinite service to us after the action.”
By way also of appreciation and acknowledgment of the magnificent services rendered by the _Donegal_ after the battle, the officers and men of the Trafalgar fleet, without one dissentient voice, agreed that the _Donegal_ should be specially permitted to have a share, equally with themselves, in the Nelson Monument, which the ship’s companies that fought at Trafalgar immediately after the battle jointly subscribed for, as their own personal tribute to their dead chief—the tall obelisk on Portsdown Hill at the back of Portsmouth Harbour.
* * * * *
The _Donegal_, three months later, was in the thick of the fighting in the brilliantly successful battle in the West Indies, when Vice-Admiral Sir John Duckworth, with a squadron detached by Collingwood off Cadiz, on special service, captured or destroyed an entire French squadron of five ships of the line from Brest, including the finest three-decker in the world, the great 110-gun ship _L’Impérial_, so named in honour of Napoleon himself. It was in this battle that the British flagship _Superb_ led down into the fight with a portrait of Nelson lashed to the mizen stay, and her band playing “Nelson of the Nile.”
Three of the five French ships lowered their colours to Captain Malcolm and the _Donegal_. First she led off with a rattling exchange of broadsides with the mighty French flagship _L’Impérial_. Then she fastened on a second French ship, and after a sharp set to at close quarters made her give in. Passing on, the _Donegal_ engaged another French ship till her colours in turn came down. Then she ran on board one more Frenchman, the _Jupiter_, a ship that had already been hotly engaged. The _Jupiter_ surrendered to the _Donegal_ after next to no defence. Such was the _Donegal’s_ work that day, in a battle that is really unique in the completeness of its results, but which, owing to its having taken place within three months of Trafalgar, the world paid little heed to at the time, and we have since quite forgotten—lost sight of in the dazzling lustre of the greater event near home.
Until after Waterloo had been won, the _Donegal_ helped to keep the seas for England, and on more than one occasion with shotted guns in the face of the enemy.
Our second _Donegal_, a wooden 91-gun two-decker, built in the Fifties of the last century, was one of the very last sent afloat of our old “wooden walls.” She still exists, under the name of the _Vernon_, torpedo school ship at Portsmouth.
* * * * *
The direct association between the _Donegal_ of the Royal Navy and County Donegal came into existence first of all in the case of the present armour-clad cruiser, the _Donegal_ of King Edward’s fleet. She is a sister ship of the _Kent_, and was launched and named by the Duchess of Abercorn, as wife of the Lord Lieutenant of Donegal, and at express desire of the King. The _Donegal_ of to-day was the second ship of our county cruisers to receive the honour of a special county presentation in commemoration of the name she bore. The presentation was made before the assembled officers and men of the ship by the Marquess of Hamilton, as M.P. for Derry City, and comprised a service of silver plate, inscribed as the gift of “the King’s subjects in the County of Donegal and the City of Derry.”[12]
IX
ON BOARD OUR FLAGSHIPS AT TRAFALGAR
CAPTAIN HARDY AND THOSE WHO MANNED THE _VICTORY_
Heard ye the thunder of battle,
Low in the South and afar?
Saw ye the flush of the death-cloud,
Crimson o’er Trafalgar?
Such another day, never,
England shall look on again,
When the battle fought was the hottest,
And the hero of heroes was slain!
This is a glance at Captain Hardy, the captain of the _Victory_ at Trafalgar, his lieutenants and other quarter-deck officers of Nelson’s flagship, and also something of the men who manned the _Victory_ and where they came from.
Incidentally this should be said of Nelson’s own personal connection with the _Victory_. Nelson’s first association with the _Victory_ dated back to many years before Trafalgar—ever since, indeed, the year in which he entered the Navy as a boy of twelve. At that time the _Victory_, in her seventh year afloat, was lying up in reserve at Chatham, the pride of the Medway, as the finest and biggest first-rate man-of-war in the British Navy. The boy Nelson while at Chatham saw her day after day for months, and must have gone on board her. Later on, during the four years that Nelson served in the Mediterranean under Hood and Jervis, between 1793 and 1797, the _Victory_ was flagship of the fleet, and Nelson, as we know, was constantly on board her on business with the Admiral. It was on the _Victory’s_ quarter-deck also that Sir John Jervis, after the battle of Cape St. Vincent, publicly embraced Nelson and congratulated him on the magnificent display of heroic daring that he had made that day. In October, 1805, Nelson had flown his flag on board the _Victory_ for two and a quarter years, ever since the war began, having at the outset gladly accepted the offer of her for his flagship from what he knew of her as the fastest three-decker afloat.
At Trafalgar “Nelson’s Hardy,” Captain Thomas Masterman Hardy, was captain of the _Victory_. He was not the “Captain of the Fleet,” that post being officially vacant during Captain George Murray’s absence on leave in England owing to urgent private affairs. Hardy’s charming manner and tact, however, and his pleasant way of “getting on” with everybody he had to do with in all circumstances, enabled Nelson to manage for the time being without so invaluable an aid as “Friend Murray” had ever proved himself. Hardy and Nelson had served together for nearly nine years on and off, ever since they first met, when Hardy was a lieutenant in the _Meleager_, a frigate in Nelson’s flying squadron off the Eastern Riviera. When Nelson hoisted his broad pennant on board the _Minerve_, towards the end of 1796, Hardy went with him, and he owed something to Nelson during the cruise. Just before the battle off Cape St. Vincent, when the _Minerve_ was passing the Straits off Gibraltar, with the Spanish fleet in pursuit of her, Hardy, then first lieutenant, put off in a boat to rescue a man who had fallen overboard. The man was picked up, but the boat was swept by the current right across the bows of the fast approaching enemy. On board the _Minerve_ they gave the boat up for lost, when Nelson, risking the capture of the ship and all on board, brought-to. “By God,” he called out, “I’ll not lose Hardy!” “Back the mizen topsail!” They picked the boat up almost under the bowsprits of the enemy, and got off scot-free. After that, the brilliant way in which Hardy led the _Minerve’s_ boats at the cutting out of the French brig-of-war _Mutine_ won him his post-captaincy and the command of his prize, in which he served until after the battle of the Nile when Nelson moved him into the _Vanguard_ in place of Flag-Captain Berry, sent home with the dispatches.
Ever since the battle of the Nile Hardy had followed Nelson’s fortunes as his flag-captain in the various ships on board which Nelson had his flag—in the _Vanguard_ first of all, then in the _Foudroyant_, the _San Josef_, and the _St. George_. It was Hardy also who, on the night before the attack on Copenhagen, with cool daring, pulled with muffled oars close alongside the ships of the Danish line and took the soundings which practically enabled Nelson to win the battle.
“A bachelor of 35, rather stout in build, with light eyes, bushy eyebrows, square broad face, plenty of chin, and a mouth whose corners played between humour and grimness,” is the portrait that a contemporary gives of Captain Hardy in 1805.
Hardy—he lived to be Sir Thomas and K.C.B.—now lies in the mausoleum of the old pensioners’ burial ground at Greenwich Hospital—a veteran laid to his rest among veterans. No more fitting last abode surely could have been found for “Hardy of the _Victory_” than amongst those with whom he had lived and fought and had his being.
And this be the verse that you grave for me,
Here he lies where he wished to be;
Home is the sailor, home from the sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.
He has his monument elsewhere: in his native Dorset, where there stands a massive column of stone, which the men and women of his county in their pride and affection subscribed for, and set up on a spur of Blackdown (or Blagdon) Hill, overlooking the little village of Portisham where Hardy lived as a boy, whence also he set out to accompany Nelson to Trafalgar. It stands in sight of the house where the Captain of the _Victory_ was born, on the one hand; while on the other it looks out across the vales towards the sea, not many miles away: a lonesome, wind-swept spot; a place to visit by oneself, say on some calm December afternoon, a little before the shortening winter twilight closes round, and look out from, seaward for choice—
... where afar
The grey sky pales to the dim horizon,
And the murm’ring Channel with its wand’ring sails,
Drifts down through the winter’s day.
Looking seaward from the top of the monument, standing there over nine hundred feet above the sea—twice and a quarter the height of St. Paul’s Cathedral—“the eye rests on an unbroken panorama of coast-line, extending from the Isle of Wight and St. Katherine’s Point on the east, to Start Point and the Tors of Dartmoor on the west.... Far down below lie, clearly spread out as if on a map, Weymouth and the Backwater, as well as Portland and the Chesil Beach, whilst St. Aldhelm’s Head and the Purbeck Hills to the left, and Thorncombe Beacon with Golden Cap beyond it to the right, stand out in prominent grandeur.”
* * * * *
These were Captain Hardy’s officers on board Nelson’s flagship, a complete list of the lieutenants and other quarter-deck officers serving in the _Victory_ on the 21st of October, 1805:—
Lieutenants—John Pasco [Flag-Lieutenant] (wounded); John Quilliam; John Yule; Edward Williams; Andrew King; George Miller Bligh (wounded); George L. Brown; Alexander Hills; William Ram (killed).
Master—Thomas Atkinson.
Surgeon—William Beatty.
Purser—Walter Burke.
Chaplain—Rev. John A. Scott.
Secretary—John Scott (killed).
Gunner—William Rivers.
Boatswain—William Wilmet.
Carpenter—Wm. Bunce.
Marine Officers—Captain—Charles W. Adair (killed); Lieutenants—Lewis Buckle Reeves (wounded); James G. Peake (wounded); Lewis Roteley.
Master’s Mates and Midshipmen—William Chaseman; J. R. Walker; Thomas L. Robins; Samuel Spencer; Wm. H. Symons; Robt. C. Barton; James Green; Richard Bulkeley (wounded); John Carslake; Henry Carey; John Felton; Festing Grindall; Daniel Harrington; John Lyons; David Ogilvie; Alexander Palmer (killed); John Pollard; James Poad; Oliver Picken; William Rivers (wounded); James Robertson; Richard F. Roberts: Robert Smith (killed); Philip Thovez; Thomas Thresher; James Sibbald; Daniel Salter; Francis E. Collingwood; George A. Westphal (wounded).
Surgeon’s Mates—Neil Smith; William Westenburgh.
Clerk—Thomas Whipple (killed).
First Class Volunteers—Henry Lancaster; Charles Chapell; J. R. Walker.
Midshipman William Ward Perceval Johnson of the _Childers_ sloop-of-war, a former first-class Volunteer in the _Victory_, was on board the flagship at Trafalgar as the guest of his former messmates. He died in December, 1880, at the age of ninety, one of the five last survivors of Trafalgar, and the last surviving officer of those on board the _Victory_.
* * * * *
At Trafalgar the _Victory’s_ nominal complement as a first-rate, comprising the “ship’s company,” numbered 837 officers and men, including in the total as well, 40 boys, 145 marines, and 8 “widows’ men.” She had actually on board on the 21st of October 804 of all ranks and ratings, with, in addition, 26 “supernumeraries for victuals”—under which category Nelson himself and his secretary and personal suite and certain others were returned. There were 24 officers, including Captain Hardy and 9 lieutenants, and the various warrant officers; and 31 mates, midshipmen, and clerks. In action 50 men were at the quarter-deck guns; 20 were stationed on the forecastle; 150 on the main-deck; 180 on the middle-deck; and 225 on the lower-deck, where the heaviest guns were. These, it may be observed, had 15 men told off to each, as compared with 12 men each to the middle-deck guns, and 10 men each to the guns on the main-deck, quarter-deck, and forecastle. The signal-staff, comprising a lieutenant, with a mate, 3 midshipmen and 9 men, were on the poop, where the marines had also their post. Forty-eight men and boys were employed in and about the ship’s three magazines in handing and passing cartridges, besides 19 more at the hatchways. All these were in addition to the powder-men—one man to each gun—employed on the battery decks in supplying the guns’ crews in action. Six men were told off to attend to the wounded in the cockpit under the orders of the surgeon and his mates—not a very large number in the circumstances; and there were also the small-arm men, the carpenter’s gangs to stop shot-holes and attend to leaks, men told off to see to the state of the rigging, and others in the various storerooms, at the helm, and so on. This brief _résumé_ will give an idea of the distribution of the _Victory’s_ ship’s company at quarters.
* * * * *
The ship’s books account for the nationality, or place of birth, of 633 of the officers and men on board the _Victory_, as mustered on the 17th of October, the last muster day before the battle (the Thursday before Trafalgar), not taking into reckoning the marines or the boys and supernumeraries. Of the total, 411 were of English birth, 64 were Scotsmen, 63 Irishmen, and 18 Welshmen. Three men were from Orkney and Shetland, 2 from the Channel Islands and 1 (Lieutenant Quilliam) from the Isle of Man. The remainder—71 men, were foreigners, from all quarters of the known world almost, got together, for the most part, out of merchant ships under impress warrants: 7 Dutchmen, 22 Americans, 2 Danes, 3 Frenchmen, 1 Russian, 3 Norwegians, 6 Swedes, 2 North Germans from Hamburg and 1 Prussian, 9 from various islands in the West Indies, 2 Swiss, 2 Portuguese, 1 African, 1 from Bengal and 1 from Madras, 4 Italians, and 4 Maltese.[13]
Of the Englishmen on board: Kent, the old maritime county of England in the day of the Cinque Ports, and the county of Admiral Rooke, who won Gibraltar for the British Empire, contributed twenty-seven; Devonshire, the county of Drake and Raleigh, twenty-four; Hampshire, twenty; Somerset, the county of Blake and Rodney and the Hoods, four; Hardy’s county, Dorset, sent fourteen, one of them from Captain Hardy’s own native village of Portisham; Nelson’s county, Norfolk, contributed fifteen; Suffolk, whence came Admiral Vernon and Broke of the _Shannon_, twelve; Essex, nine; Sussex, five; Cornwall, the county of Grenville of the _Revenge_, and “the great twin brethren” of the Seven Years’ War, Hawke and Boscawen, seven; Northumberland, Yorkshire (the county of Martin Frobisher and Captain Cook), and Lancashire, eighteen each; Durham, seventeen; Lincolnshire, seven; Herefordshire and Oxford, six each. Wiltshire and Gloucester, five each. Old Benbow’s county of Shropshire had one representative on board the _Victory_ at Trafalgar. The other counties, men from which were in Nelson’s flagship that day, represented by four men each, or fewer, were Berkshire and Bedford, Worcestershire, Hereford and Cheshire, Surrey, Cambridgeshire, Notts, Middlesex, Leicester, Staffordshire (the county of Anson and St. Vincent), Derby, Northampton, Cumberland, and Westmoreland. London was represented on the _Victory’s_ books by a hundred and fifteen men, Liverpool and Shields by ten each, Newcastle by fourteen, Bristol by five, Sunderland by four, Manchester by three. Birmingham, Leeds, Bury, Winchester, Canterbury were among other places represented on board; and nearly every coast town from Tweedmouth, Hull and Grimsby, and round to Falmouth and St. Ives, had two or three men with Nelson. There were Scotsmen there from nearly every Scottish county, from Caithness and Banff, Ross, and Cromarty, Aberdeen and Inverness, Fife and Forfar, Berwick, Renfrew, Galloway, Lanark, the county of that _preux chevalier_ among British naval officers, Cochrane, Lord Dundonald, “the daring in war,” Ayr and Argyll. Eleven men from Edinburgh were on board; five from Glasgow; seven from Dundee, the birthplace of Duncan of Camperdown; with men from Leith, and Peterhead, Dumbarton, and Greenock. From Ireland, in like manner, men from Donegal fought the _Victory’s_ guns side by side with men from County Down and Roscommon, Meath and Carlow, Galway and Sligo, Cavan, Wexford and Waterford, Tipperary and County Cork. Fourteen men from Dublin were in the British flagship at Trafalgar; eleven from Cork; ten from Waterford City and Belfast; Carrickfergus and Kinsale were also represented on board.
There were men of all ages between twenty and fifty in the crew of the _Victory_ at Trafalgar, and boys from ten years old—the age of little Johnnie Doag, an Edinburgh boy, rated as a “First Class Boy,” and probably the youngest person present on either side at Trafalgar—to lads of eighteen or nineteen. Four others of the thirty-one in the flagship (nine short of the complement) were just twelve years old, and six others, thirteen. The great majority of the men on board were from twenty to thirty years of age. About 10 per cent were over forty, the majority of these being between forty-seven and fifty. One of the “powder-monkeys” on board the _Victory_, it was discovered later, was a woman. Her husband was also on board the ship. She was a native of Port Mahon, and an officer who saw her there in 1841 described her as being then “a sturdy woman of 70.” The last survivor of the seamen and marines on board the _Victory_ at Trafalgar died at Dundee in November, 1876.
This interesting detail in regard to the _Victory’s_ crew should be mentioned in addition. Practically 30 per cent of the seamen were volunteers, so the ship’s muster-book states. It records in the column headed “_Whence and whether Prest or not_,” the word “Vol” against 181 of the names, out of a total of 628 able and ordinary seamen and landsmen.
* * * * *
There were, of course, men of all callings in civil life among the crew—as swept on board by the press-gang for the most part. According to inquiries made by officers on their own account, almost every trade and calling of every-day life contributed its quota in those times to the assortment on board our men-of-war. Collingwood, it is on record, had among the impressed men sent to one of his ships, a black San Domingo general, who had somehow found his way across the Atlantic; and also a Sussex market gardener, and a milkman, these last sent to him for top-gallant-yard men—poor fellows!
On board the _Elizabeth_, a seventy-four, for instance, out of a ship’s company 395 in number, only 177, it is on record, were seamen or of callings connected with the sea: merchantman-sailors, fishermen, watermen, and dockyard hands. The other 218 were stated thus: 108 labourers, 5 joiners, 6 tailors, 14 weavers, 5 coopers, 6 blacksmiths, 3 whitesmiths, 1 slater, 1 umbrella-maker, 1 butcher, 10 shoemakers, 1 poulterer, 2 stocking-makers, 1 dry-salter, 7 farmers, 1 coppersmith, 4 servants, 3 gardeners, 2 curriers, 1 mattress-maker, 1 tobacco manufacturer, 1 fustian-cutter, 1 cotton manufacturer, 1 clockmaker, 1 watchmaker, 2 waiters, 1 brickmaker, 2 bricklayers, 1 soldier, 1 stonecutter, 2 sawyers, 7 painters, 1 corn-factor, 1 staymaker, 1 glassmaker, 2 hatters, 1 wiremaker, 1 potter, 1 miller, 1 mason, 1 miner, 1 chimney sweep. The same kind of mixture was found on board another seventy-four, with these additional items: 1 linen draper, 1 artificial flower-maker, 1 milliner, 1 hinge-maker, 6 more hatters, 5 more barbers, and another umbrella-maker, 1 button-maker and 1 thimble-maker, 2 flax and hemp dressers, 3 coach and harness makers, 4 dyers, 1 tanner, 1 maltster, 1 calendarman, 2 wool-combers, 1 pipe-borer, 1 warehouseman, 1 tallow-chandler, 1 sadler, 3 pedlars, 1 violin-maker, 1 schoolmaster, and 1 optician. All was fish that came to the press-gang’s net.
Again, too, to take another case. Captain T. Byam Martin (afterwards Sir Thomas and Admiral of the Fleet), of the _Implacable_, in May, 1808, checked the composition of his ship’s company man by man, and sent the results of his investigation to his brother. “I have just now,” he wrote, “been amusing myself in ascertaining the diversity of human beings which compose the crew of a British ship of war, and as I think you will be entertained with a statement of the ridiculous medley, it shall follow precisely as their place of nativity is inserted in the ship’s books: English 285, Irish 130, Welsh 25, Isle of Man 6, Scots 29, Shetland 3, Orkneys 2, Guernsey 2, Canada 1, Jamaica 1, Trinidad 1, St. Domingo 2, St. Kitts 1, Martinique 1, Santa Cruz 1, Bermuda 1, Swedes 8, Danes 7, Prussians 8, Dutch 1, Germans 3, Corsica 1, Portuguese 5, Sicily 1, Minorca 1, Ragusa 1, Brazils 1, Spanish 2, Madeira 1, Americans 28, West Indies 2, Bengal 2. This statement does not include officers of any description, and may be considered applicable to every British ship, with the exception that _very few of them have so many native subjects_.”
Of those who fought on board the _Victory’s_ special companion-in-arms at Trafalgar, the “Fighting” _Téméraire_, Ireland contributed just two-fifths of the total ship’s company—220 men out of 550.[14] They came from all parts, according to the ship’s books, mostly from Waterford, Belfast, Limerick, and Wexford; and about a third from Dublin, Newry, Kildare, Galway, Kilkenny, and Cork. Scotland supplied the _Téméraire_ with 58 men; hailing, the greater number of them, from Aberdeen, Inverness, Dundee, Greenock and Glasgow, Leith and Edinburgh. Wales contributed 38 men all told; from Swansea, Cardiff, Pembroke, and Milford, for the most part. Of all the Englishmen on board the “Fighting” _Téméraire_ at Trafalgar, one county by itself contributed practically a third of the number—Devonshire. They counted 52 men, drawn from all over the county: Bideford and Barnstaple, Exeter, Tavistock, Dorlish [_sic_], Ilfracoome [_sic_], Tiverton, and Dartmouth and Paignton. From London came 30 men in all. Lancashire had as many representatives in the ship as all Wales, 38—all except three hailing from Liverpool or Manchester. Somerset had 24, Cornwall 20, Yorkshire 13, Northumberland and Durham 10 each. These are the numbers from the other English counties: Norfolk 8 men, Hampshire 7, Kent 6, Cumberland and Gloucestershire each 5; Essex, Dorset, Chester each 4; Middlesex 3; Derbyshire, Warwick, Sussex, Cambridge, Worcester, and Suffolk each 2; Oxfordshire, Buckinghamshire, Shropshire, Leicester, Surrey, Hereford, and The Isle of White [_sic_] 1 man each. There were 8 Manxmen at Trafalgar on board the “Fighting” _Téméraire_; 2 Jerseymen, and 1 man from Guernsey. Jamaica had 1 man on board, and Newfoundland 2 men. As usual, a number of foreigners figure on the books—66 altogether. They included: 28 Americans, 9 Germans (mostly from Hamburg and Emden), 6 Swedes, 5 Portuguese, 3 Frenchmen, 3 Spaniards, 1 Dutchman, 1 Cape-Dutchman, 1 from “Sclavonia” (Peter Valentine by name), 1 Viennese (Emil Joaquim), 1 from Old Calabar (a negro named Ephraim) and the remainder from Santa Cruz and other non-British islands in the West Indies.
The log of the _Victory_ for the day after the battle accounts for all who fell on board Nelson’s flagship, whether killed or wounded. It sets out the full list in this form:—
“A return of men killed and wounded on board his Majesty’s ship _Victory_, bearing the flag of the Right Honourable Lord Viscount Nelson, K.B., Duke of Bronté, Vice-Admiral of the White and Commander-in-Chief, on the 21st day of October, 1805, in an engagement with the combined fleets of France and Spain off Cape Trafalgar. Thomas Masterman Hardy, Esq., Captain.
KILLED
_Names_ _Quality_
The Right Hon. Lord
Viscount Nelson, K.B.,
Duke of Bronté Commander-in-Chief
John Scott, Esq. Secretary
C. W. Adair Captain, Royal Marines
William Ram 9th lieutenant, R.N.
Robert Smith Midshipman
Thomas Whipple Captain’s clerk.
James Mansel Ab.[15]
Thomas Daniels L.M.
Thomas Thomas (1st) Ab.
James North Ordinary
Alfred Taylor Do.
James Parke Do.
William Shaw L.M.
Richard Jewell Ordinary
Charles Davis (1st) Do.
John Bowlin L.M.
William Brown (1st) Ab.
William Mark Do.
George Smith (1st) L.M.
John Wharton Ordinary
John King Quarter-gunner
Robert Davison Ab.
Edward Waters Do.
John Cowarden Ordinary
William Thompson (3rd) Ab.
Thomas Johnson Quartermaster
Andrew Sack Yeoman of signals
Alexander Walker Ab.
Arthur Hervin Ordinary
John Welch (2nd) Ab.
William Skinner Ordinary
Joseph Ward Do.
James Skinner Do.
Stephen Sabine 3rd class (boy)
George Welch 2nd class (boy)
Collin Turner 3rd class (boy)
_Royal Marines_
George Cochran Corporal
James Berry Drummer
James Green Private
John Brown (1st) Do.
Lambert Myers Do.
Samuel Wilks Do.
George Kennedy Do.
Daniel Hillier Do.
John Brannon Do.
James Norgrove Do.
Jeremiah G. Lewis Private
George Wilmott Do.
Bernard McNamara Do.
John Ebbsworth Do.
William Coburne Do.
William Jones Do.
William Perry Do.
John Palmer Do.
WOUNDED DANGEROUSLY
John Pasco Signal-lieutenant, R.N.
William Rivers (2nd) Midshipman
Alexander Palmer[16] Do.
John Bush Ordinary
Daniel McPherson L.M.
John Bergen Ordinary
Henry Cramwell[16] L.M.
William Jones (3rd) Do.
Hans Andersen Ab.
David Buchan Do.
Joseph Gordon[16] Ordinary
William Smith (2nd)[16] Do.
John Smith (2nd) Do.
John Saunders 3rd class (boy)
_Marines_
William Taft Corporal
Thomas Raynor Private
John Gregory Do.
William Knight Do.
James Bengass Do.
William Wells Do.
Benjamin Cook Do.
James Hines Do.
Benjamin Matthews Private
Thomas Wilson Do.
Nicholas Dear Do.
BADLY WOUNDED
George M. Bligh 6th lieutenant, R.N.
Lewis B. Reeves 2nd lieutenant, R.M.
William Honnor Quarter-gunner
Jeremiah Sullivan Ab.
Peter Hale L.M.
Thomas Green (1st) Ab.
John Francois Ordinary
William Castle Ab.
George Burton Ordinary
James Parker Do.
Edward Dunn Do.
Edward Padden Private, R.M.
SLIGHTLY WOUNDED
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.
_French flagship, “Bucentaure,” 80 guns._
_“Redoutable,” 74 guns, from which Nelson was shot._
_Collingwood in the “Royal Sovereign” opening the attack._
_The “Victory” (Nelson’s flag should be at the fore, not as here.)_
_From a photograph of the original sepia drawing now in the possession of a descendant of Captain Lucas of the “Redoutable.”_]
“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.”
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Champions of the fleetChapter IX: On Board Our Flagships at Trafalgar:—captain Hardy and (7)
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