The part directly played by the Victory herself in the battle of Trafalgar was second to none. From the very first she received a raking fire from all sides, which must have been indeed severe, when we find the words extorted from Nelson, “This is too warm work to last long,” addressed to Captain Hardy. At that moment fifty of his men were lying dead or wounded, while the Victory’s mizen-mast and wheel were shot away, and her sails hanging in ribbons. To the terrible cannonading of the enemy, Nelson had not yet returned a shot. He had determined to be in the very thick of the fight, and was reserving his fire. Now it was that Captain Hardy represented to Nelson the impracticability of passing through the enemy’s line without running on board one of their ships; he was coolly told to take his choice. The Victory was accordingly turned on board the Redoubtable, the commander of which, Captain Lucas, in a resolute endeavour to block the passage, himself ran his bowsprit into the figurehead of the Bucentaure, and the two vessels became locked together. Not many minutes later, Captain Harvey, of the Téméraire, seeing the position of the Victory with her two assailants, fell on board the Redoubtable, on the other side, so that these four ships formed as compact a tier as though moored together. The Victory fired her middle and lower deck guns into the Redoubtable, which returned the fire from her main-deck, employing also musketry and brass pieces of larger size with most destructive effects from the tops.
“Redoubtable they called her—a curse upon her name!
’Twas from her tops the bullet that killed our hero came.”
Within a few minutes of Lord Nelson’s fall, several officers and about forty men were either killed or wounded from this source. But a few minutes afterwards the Redoubtable fell on board the Téméraire, the French ship’s bowsprit passing over the British ship. Now came one of the warmest episodes of the fight. The crew of the Téméraire lashed their vessel to their assailants’ ship, and poured in a raking fire. But the French captain, having discovered that—owing, perhaps, to the sympathy exhibited for the dying hero on board the Victory, and her excessive losses in men—her quarter-deck was quite deserted, now ordered an attempt at boarding the latter. This cost our flag-ship the lives of Captain Adair and eighteen men, but at the same moment the Téméraire opened fire on the Redoubtable with such effect that Captain Lucas and 200 men were themselves placed hors de combat.
In the contest we have been relating, the coolness of the Victory’s men was signally evinced. “When the guns on the lower deck were run out, their muzzles came in contact with the sides of the Redoubtable, and now was seen an astounding spectacle. Knowing that there was danger of the French ship taking fire, the fireman of each gun on board the British ship stood ready with a bucketful of water to dash into the hole made by the shot of his gun—thus beautifully illustrating Nelson’s prayer, ‘that the British might be distinguished by humanity in victory.’ Less considerate than her antagonist, the Redoubtable threw hand-grenades from her tops, which, falling on board herself, set fire to her, ... and the flame communicated with the foresail of the Téméraire, and caught some ropes and canvas on the booms of the Victory, risking the destruction of all; but by immense exertions the fire was subdued in the British ships, whose crews lent their assistance to extinguish the flames on board the Redoubtable, by throwing buckets of water upon her chains and forecastle.”[8]
Setting aside, for the purpose of clearness, the episode of the taking of the Fougueux, which got foul of the Téméraire and speedily surrendered, we find, five minutes later, the main and mizen masts of the Redoubtable falling—the former in such a way across the Téméraire that it formed a bridge, over which the boarding-party passed and took quiet possession. Captain Lucas had so stoutly defended his flag, that, out of a crew of 643, only 123 were in a condition to continue the fight; 522 were lying killed or wounded. The Bucentaure soon met her fate, after being defended with nearly equal bravery. The French admiral, Villeneuve, who was on board, said bitterly, just before surrendering, “Le Bucentaure a rempli sa tâche; la mienne n’est pas encore achevée.”
Let the reader remember that the above are but a few episodes of the most complete and glorious victory ever obtained in naval warfare. Without the loss of one single vessel to the conqueror, more than half the ships of the enemy were captured or destroyed, while the remainder escaped into harbour to rot in utter uselessness. Twenty-one vessels were lost for ever to France and Spain. It is to be hoped and believed that no such contest will ever again be needed; but should it be needed, it will have to be fought by very different means. The instance of four great ships locked together, dealing death and destruction to each other, has never been paralleled. Imagine that [pg 13]seething, fighting, dying mass of humanity, with all the horrible concomitants of deafening noise and blinding smoke and flashing fire! It is not likely ever to occur in modern warfare. The commanders of steam-vessels of all classes will be more likely to fight at out-manœuvring and shelling each other than to come to close quarters, which would generally mean blowing up together. It would be interesting to consider how Nelson would have acted with, and opposed to, steam-frigates and ironclads. He would, no doubt, have been as courageous and far-seeing and rapid in action as ever, but hardly as reckless, or even daring.
THE “VICTORY” AT CLOSE QUARTERS WITH THE “REDOUBTABLE.”
“And still, though seventy years, boys,