“October 21st, at eleven A. M., the two fleets came together, and one of the most destructive naval battles ever fought ensued. * * * The English were full of confidence and enthusiasm. * * * Nelson himself set the example. Outsailing his division, he dashed the Victory against the Allied line, in spite of the concentrated broadsides poured upon him. * * * He attempted to take the Bucentaure, the flag-ship of Villeneuve, and for that purpose tried to get in between her and another French ship, the Redoutable, commanded by the brave Captain Lucas. Lucas divined his intentions, and hastened to bar the Victory’s way. But Nelson was not the man to be deterred by odds, and immediately laid his ship alongside the Redoutable, and boarded her. Lashed alongside, the two ships fell out of line, fighting.” It is not very often that accounts from opposite sides agree so closely as the foregoing account.
“The ship’s company of the Redoutable bravely accepted the unequal combat. From the tops, as well as from the batteries, they answered the fire of the English, and, in this singular fight, one rather of musketry than of great guns, the French had rather the advantage.” “The decks of the Victory were burdened with the dead. In the midst of the noise and confusion, and smoke of combat, Nelson and Captain Hardy walked the poop. Not far from them a few men were exchanging a brisk musketry fire with those in the tops of the French ship. Suddenly the Admiral staggered and fell, with his face to the deck. A ball fired from the mizzen-top of the Redoutable had struck his left shoulder, passing through the epaulette, then through the chest, and lodging in the dorsal vertebræ.” Admiral Jurien de la Gravière says, “They picked him up at once, the decks being covered with his blood. Hardy, who had not seen him fall, turned, and, paler than Nelson himself, cried, ‘I hope, my Lord, that you are not dangerously wounded!’ ‘They have done for me,’ he answered; ‘they have succeeded at last; the spine of my back is broken.’”
Thiers, in his history, gives a rather different account, only interesting as showing the way in which this important event was reported by the French. “Nelson, dressed in a coat which he always wore on days of battle, and having at his side his flag-captain, Hardy, seemed to delight in exposing himself. His Secretary had already been killed just beside him. Captain Hardy had had one of his shoe buckles shot away, and a bar shot had killed eight men at once on the poop. The great seaman, just object of both hatred and admiration to us, impassable upon his poop, was looking calmly on at the horrible scene, when a bullet from one of the tops of the Redoutable struck him on the left shoulder, and passing on, lodged in his loins. Sinking to his knees he fell forward, endeavoring to sustain himself by his hands. In falling he said, ‘Hardy, the Frenchmen have finished me.’ ‘Not yet, I hope,’ said Hardy. ‘Yes! I am dying,’ said Nelson. They carried him to the cockpit, but he had already almost lost consciousness, and it was evident he had but a short time to live. Recovering his consciousness at intervals, he asked how the battle went; and repeated the directions which afterwards proved his foresight: ‘Anchor! anchor the fleet before evening.’” He soon died, but he had the consolation of knowing, before he did so, that his triumph was certain. To continue the French account: “This bloody episode naturally created disorder on board the Victory, and Captain Lucas, of the Redoutable, without knowing the cause, wished to profit by it to board the English ship. The boarders were already called away, when a broadside of grape from the Téméraire laid low two hundred of them, either killed or wounded. At the same time another English ship, the Neptune, fired into the Redoutable’s poop, and reduced her to a deplorable condition. Two of her masts fell upon the deck, her guns were in great part dismounted, and one of her sides almost beaten in, by which the water entered in torrents. All her staff was wounded, ten out of eleven midshipmen mortally wounded, while 522 men out of 640 were either killed or wounded, and, being unable to resist longer, they were obliged to strike.”
To continue the French account: “The other French ships, in equal straits, were menaced with the same fate, although their crews, as well as those of the Spanish fleet, showed no lack of courage. The English guns, ably and perfectly served, made havoc with their enemy, whose ships, as has been said, were deficient in condition.
“The Bucentaure, attacked by several ships at once, all of whom looked upon her as their special prize, had fouled and caught her bowsprit in the gallery of the Spanish ship Santissima Trinidada, and was incapable of getting clear. In this position she soon had her decks swept, and lay at the mercy of the enemy, with great gaps in her starboard side, her poop demolished, her masts gone by the board, her officers and crew decimated. ‘My business on board the Bucentaure is finished,’ cried the unfortunate Villeneuve; ‘I will try to bring back good fortune on board of another vessel.’ But not a boat was able to swim, and it was impossible for him to leave the Bucentaure.”
M. Thiers says that the French Admiral thus found himself upon a sinking ship, incapable of taking either the offensive or defensive, unable to transmit orders or to do anything to save the fleet which had been entrusted to him, and unable to answer even a shot to those he was still receiving. In this desperate condition, which could not be worse, he resigned himself to the sad necessity of striking his flag. This took place about four in the afternoon.
“An English boat came and took him on board the Mars, where he was received with all the distinction due to his rank and his courage.” “The seven vessels of the centre, which Villenueve commanded, were either captured or disabled. Those at the head of the Allied line had taken little part in the action, owing to light winds. Rear Admiral Dumanoir, who commanded them, feared to be compromised uselessly if he went to the assistance of either Villeneuve or of the rear division, and he decided not to allow his division to become involved in the disaster which he deemed irremediable. So he drew off, and his conduct has been made the subject of more or less hostile criticism, according as people judged his motives.”
“The vessels of the rear division” (we are still following the French account), “commanded by Admiral Gravina and Rear-Admiral Magon, carried on the battle with devoted courage. The Algésiras (flag-ship of the French Rear-Admiral) made as terribly desperate a defence (always defence) as the Redoutable. Magon had for opponent the Tonnant, a ship taken from the French, of 80 guns. He was about to board her when the same misfortune happened which occurred to the Redoutable. Another English ship raked the Algésiras, sweeping off a large number of her crew by broadsides of grape. She endeavored to reply to this new enemy, when a third came and joined them. In this Homeric struggle the Algésiras for a time fought all three. The Captain of the Tonnant tried three times to board the Algésiras. Magon himself, at the head of his crew, boarding-axe in hand, set an example to his men, and his decks were stained with blood in this hand-to-hand conflict. Conspicuous for his brilliant uniform, which he refused to lay aside, he was soon wounded by a musket ball, but remained on deck. A second ball hit him in the thigh, and feeling faint he allowed himself to be taken below to have the wound dressed, expecting to return. Unfortunately his ship’s sides were so battered that grape could readily enter below, and Magon was hardly below when he was killed by a grape-shot through the chest.
“The sailors of the Algésiras seemed rendered desperate by the news of his death, but all their courage did not avail. Out of 641 men on board of her, 150 were killed and 180 wounded. Her masts were gone, her battery dismounted, and when the English boarded they overran the ship, and her flag was struck. Admiral Gravina, on board the Principe d’Asturias, and surrounded by English vessels, fought with the fury of despair. Holding out well against odds, he gave time to the Neptune and Pluto to come down to his assistance. Unfortunately, just as this aid arrived he was mortally wounded.”
“Another episode in this battle of giants marked its termination. The Achille caught fire, and her crew, instead of attending to that, would not leave her guns, and she blew up, with tremendous violence.”