Once more and for the last time Nelson confronted Napoleon in the person of his combined fleets of France and Spain.
The story of Trafalgar is not one for the pen of a romancer, for the more simply the stern and glorious truth is told, the more it raises the human imagination to its own great heights. Yet certain pictures arise and wring the soul with their humanity. And these may be spoken of, for the feet of the true Romance tread near indeed to God.
Nelson, writing the famous codicil to his will in which he committed Emma and his child as a sacred trust to the nation, causing its attestation by the signatures of his two old friends Blackwood and Hardy, and setting beneath this the solemn sentence, “In sight of the combined fleets of France and Spain, distant about ten miles.”
Nelson watching the removal of the bulkheads of his cabin for action and, as they displaced her picture, bidding them: “Take care of my guardian angel.”
An officer, hastening to speak to him with a petition for a post of danger and glory, but halting, seeing the Admiral on his knees in the dismantled cabin, writing—his last words, his last prayer—and withdrawing in a reverence that would not break his solemn communion.
“May the great God whom I worship grant to my country and for the benefit of Europe in general a great and glorious victory and may no misconduct in any one tarnish it, and may humanity after victory be the predominant feature in the British Fleet. For myself individually I commit my life to Him who made me, and may His blessing light on my endeavours for serving my country faithfully. To Him I resign myself and the just cause which is entrusted to me to defend.”
And again the triple Amen. And so he went on deck.
The glorious signal of England’s certain expectation from her sons, the stately advance of the fleets into action, Collingwood’s Royal Sovereign leading, as all the ships of the three nations to be engaged chivalrously and by one impulse hoisted their flags in haughty and dignified salute. What a sight to linger forever in the world’s memory!
Then Nelson flew the signal for close action and turned to Blackwood—“Now I can do no more. We must trust to the great Disposer of Events.” Blackwood, returning to his ship, took his hand. “God bless you, Blackwood,” he said, “I shall never speak to you again.” And even as Blackwood left the Victory the first shot tore through her maintopgallant sail, and the battle was begun.
These are the pictures that rise amid the hell of flame and smoke. So, in great moments when the littleness of the vanishing world is apparent, men fling themselves on the Unseen, the Mighty, surrounding us as the unplumbed sea girdles the earth. And through these, at last, when he lay, wounded to death, Nelson attained to look upon the beginnings of peace.