“There is, boys, but it wears off by degrees. The captains commanded on their quarter-decks; the boatswains in the forecastle; the gunners attended to the magazines, and the carpenters, with their shot-plugs, put themselves in readiness with high-wrought energy; nor were the seamen and marines a whit behind-hand in entering on their several duties. The guns, the tackle, the round grape, and canister-shot, the powder-boys, the captains of guns, with their priming-boxes, and the officers with their drawn swords, cut an imposing appearance; and the cockpit would have made a ruddy face turn pale.”
“What was there to be seen in the cockpit?”
“You forget that the wounded are all taken down into the cockpit. It will hardly bear thinking about. But, in the cockpit were laid out ready for use, wine, water, and surgeon’s instruments, with napkins and basins, sponges, and bandages.”
“We don’t like the cockpit at all. How does a man feel when he is in battle for the first time?”
“According to his disposition, I suppose, but I can only answer for myself. In my first battle I felt a sense of great danger, an expectation and fear of being killed suddenly; a difficulty in breathing, and a shame of playing the coward. At Trafalgar the combined fleets of France and Spain, under Villeneuve, the French admiral, a brave and skilful man, were in the form of a crescent, and the two British lines ran down upon them parallel to each other. As soon as the British van was within gun-shot the enemy opened their fire. The Royal Sovereign soon rounded-to under the stern of the Santa Anna, and Admiral Nelson’s ship the Victory laid herself on board the Redoubtable. From that moment the roaring of guns, the crash against the sides of the ships, clouds of smoke, splintered yards, and falling masts, were the order of the day.”
“What a dreadful scene! None but soldiers and sailors could bear it.”
“The death-warrant of the navy of France was signed and sealed by the fight of Trafalgar; and afterwards Britannia was to rule the waves. In the heat of the action a ball, fired from the mizen-top of the Redoubtable, struck Admiral Nelson on the left shoulder, when he instantly fell. ‘They have done for me at last, Hardy,’ said he, to his captain.”
“Ah, poor Nelson! He should not have worn those glittering stars on his breast. No wonder that he was killed.”
“Though mortally wounded, he gave some necessary directions concerning the ship, and when carried below inquired earnestly how the battle went on. When he knew that the victory had been gained—for twenty ships in all struck to the British admiral—he expressed himself satisfied. ‘Now I am satisfied,’ said he; ‘thank God, I have done my duty!’ Many times he repeated this expression, and ‘Thank God, I have done my duty;’ and ‘Kiss me, Hardy,’ were among the last words that were uttered by his lips. Thus, with a heart full of patriotism, died the bravest commander, the most vigilant seaman, and the most ardent friend of his country, that ever led on a British fleet to victory.”
“Poor Nelson!”