Pacing his quarter-deck Nelson waited for his time to come. While doing so, a shot passed between him and Hardy, bruising the latter’s foot, and tearing the buckle from his shoe. Both stopped in their promenade, looking anxiously at each other.
“This is too warm work to last long, Hardy,” said Nelson.
“The enemy are closing up their line, sir,” said Hardy. “See! We can’t get through without running one of them aboard!”
“I can’t help that,” said Nelson, “and I don’t see that it matters much which we tackle first. Take your choice. Go on board which you please.”
Villeneuve on the Bucentaure was therefore given a treble-shotted, close-range broadside, which disabled four hundred men and put twenty guns out of action, and left the ship almost defenceless.
Then, porting his helm, Nelson bore down on the Redoutable and the Neptune. The latter veered off, but the former could not escape the Victory, which she therefore received with a broadside. Then, fearing that a boarding party would enter her, the lower deck ports were shut. Meanwhile the Temeraire had fastened on to the Redoutable on the other side, and the most momentous episode in that great day’s work took place. In it we can see the difference between the naval fighting of a century ago and that of to-day, the latter being fought at long range, with no attempt at boarding.
The Victory’s guns were depressed so that they should not do damage to the Temeraire, and broadside after broadside was poured into the Redoutable, which made a brave show. The two ships were almost rubbing sides (now we fight at eight-mile range or more!), and men stood by the British guns with buckets of water in their hands, which, immediately the guns were fired, they emptied into the hole made in the Redoutable’s side lest she should catch fire, and so the prize be lost.
In the Redoutable’s top riflemen were posted, and throughout the fight picked off man after man—a practice which Nelson himself abhorred. It was from one of these snipers that the great Admiral received his death-wound.
While pacing the poop deck, Nelson suddenly swung round and pitched forward on his face. A ball had entered in at the left shoulder, and passed through his backbone.
Hardy, turning, saw three men lifting him up.