By noon Nelson had gotten several men into the king-row. Three of the enemy's ships had struck, two were on fire, and four were making a desperate endeavor to escape the fate that Nelson had prepared for them.
At one o'clock, Nelson's own ship, the "Victory," had grappled with the "Redoubtable" and was chained fast to her. Nelson's men had shot the hull of the "Redoubtable" full of holes and once set fire to her. Then, thinking the vessel had struck, since her gunners had ceased their work, Nelson ordered his own men to cease firing and extinguish the flames on the craft of the enemy.
Just at this time a musket-ball, fired from the yards of the "Redoubtable," struck Nelson on the shoulder and passed down through the vertebræ. He fell upon the deck, exclaiming to Captain Hardy who was near, "They have done for me now, Hardy—my back is broken."
He was carried below, but the gush of blood into the lungs told the tale: Nelson was dying. He sent for Hardy, but before the captain could be found the hurrahing on the deck told that the "Redoubtable" had surrendered. A gleam of joy came into the one blue eye of the dying man and he said, "I would like to live one hour just to know that my plans were right—we must capture or destroy twenty of them."
Hardy came and held the hand of his friend. "Kiss me, Hardy—I am dying—tell Lady Hamilton that my last words were of her—good by!" and he covered his face and the stars on his breast with a handkerchief, so that his men might not recognize the dead form of their chief as they hurried by at their work.
Nelson was dead—but Trafalgar was won.
Lady Hamilton was unfortunate in having her history written only by her enemies—written with goose-quills. Taine says: "The so-called best society in England is notoriously corrupt and frigidly pious. It places a premium on hypocrisy, a penalty on honesty, and having no virtues of its own, it cries shrilly about virtue—as if there were but one, and that negative." Nelson in his innocence did not know English society, otherwise he would not have commended Lady Hamilton to the gratitude of the English. It was a little like commending her to a pack of wolves. The sum of ten thousand pounds was voted to each of Nelson's sisters, but not a penny to Lady Hamilton, "my wife before the eyes of God," as he himself expressed it.
Fortunately, an annuity of four hundred pounds had been arranged for Horatia, the daughter of Lord Nelson and Lady Hamilton, and this saved Lady Hamilton and her child from absolute want. As it was, Lady Hamilton was arrested on a charge of debt, imprisoned, and practically driven out of England, although the sisters of Lord Nelson believed in her, and respected her to the last. Lady Hamilton died in France in Eighteen Hundred Thirteen.
Her daughter, Horatia Nelson, became a strong, excellent and beautiful woman, passing away in Eighteen Hundred Eighty-one. She married the Reverend Philip Ward, of Teventer, Kent, and raised a family of nine children. One of her sons moved to America and made his mark upon the stage, and also in letters. The American branch spell the name "Warde." In England several of the grandchildren of Lord Nelson have made the name of "Ward" illustrious in art and literature.