tops fired especially sharply whenever
the smoke-cloud rolled away from the Victory,
and there came a glint of the epaulets of
our officers. In the French mizen-top there
was a keen-eyed Tyrolese, in glazed cocked-hat
and white frock, especially active. He was a
fellow who, after hours of crag-climbing, had
known a week's food and profit depend on the one
shot at a steinbock, and he did not throw away
his cartridges.

At fifteen minutes past one, a quarter of
an hour before the Redoutable struck, Lord
Nelson and Captain Hardy were walking near
the middle of the quarter-deck; the admiral had
just commended the manner in which one of
the ships near him was fought. Captain
Hardy advanced from him to give some necessary
directions, Nelson was near the hatchway,
in the act of turning, with his face
towards the stern, when a musket-ball struck
the admiral on the left shoulder, and entering
the epaulet, passed through his spine, and
lodged in the muscles of his back, towards the
right side. He instantly fell with his face
on the deck, in the very place that was covered
with the blood of his secretary, Mr. Scott.
Captain Hardy, on turning round, saw to his
horror the sergeant of marines, Secker, with
two marines raising Nelson from the deck.

"Hardy," said his lordship, "I believe they have
done it at last; my backbone is shot through."

Some of the crew bore the admiral down
to the cockpit, several wounded officers and
about forty men being carried below at the
same time, amongst whom were Lieutenant
Rann and Mr. Whipple, captain's clerk, both
of whom died soon afterwards. Whilst the
seamen were conveying Lord Nelson down
the ladder from the middle deck, he
observed, careless of his own sufferings, that the
tiller-ropes had not been replaced, and desired
one of the midshipmen to remind Captain
Hardy of it, and to request that new ones
should be immediately rove. He then covered
his face and stars with his handkerchief, that
he might be less observed by his men. He was
met at the foot of the cockpit ladder by Mr.
Walter Burke, the purser, a relation of the
great orator, who, with the assistance of a
marine supporting his legs, with some difficulty
conveyed him over the bodies of the wounded
and dying men—for the cockpit was extremely
crowded—and placed him on a pallet in the
midshipmen's berth, on the larboard side.
Surgeon (afterwards Sir William) Beatty was
then called, and very soon afterwards the Rev.
Mr. Scott. His, lordship's clothes were taken
off, that the direction of the ball might be the
better ascertained.

"You can be of no use to me, Beatty," said
Lord Nelson; "go and attend to those whose
lives can be preserved."

When the surgeon had executed his melancholy
office, and found the wound to be mortal,
he repressed the general feeling that prevailed.
He had again been urged by the admiral to
go and attend to his other duties, and he
reluctantly obeyed, but continued to return at
intervals. As the blood flowed internally from
the wound, the lower cavity of the chest
gradually filled; Lord Nelson, therefore,
constantly desired Burke to raise him, and,
complaining of an excessive thirst, was fanned and
supplied by Scott with lemonade. In this state
of suffering he anxiously inquired for Captain
Hardy, to know whether the annihilation of the
enemy might be depended on; but it was
upwards of an hour before that officer could, at
so critical a moment, leave the deck; and Lord
Nelson became apprehensive that his brave
associate was dead. The crew of the Victory
were now heard to cheer, and he anxiously
demanded the cause, when Lieutenant Pasco, who
lay wounded near him, said that one of the
opponents had struck. A gleam of joy at each
shout lighted up the countenance of Nelson,
and as the crew repeated their cheers, and
marked the progress of his victory and more
captures, his satisfaction visibly increased.

At half-past two the Santa Anna struck to
Collingwood. When the Spanish captain came
on the deck of the Royal Sovereign, he asked
the name of the conquering vessel. When they
told him, he patted one of the guns with his
hand, and said, smilingly:

"I think she ought to be called the Royal
Devil."

The Bellerophon had also done well. At
half-past twelve she had broke through the
enemy's line, astern of the Spanish two-decker
Monaca. She engaged her at the muzzles of
her guns, blew up her hanging-magazine, and
captured her. She then ran on board of L' Aigle,
a vessel crowded with troops. The tremendous
fire soon left only fifteen of our men alive on
the quarter-deck; but the fire from our lower-
deck drove the French from their guns, and
L' Aigle soon afterwards struck to the Defiance.
The lower-deck men had chalked on their guns,
as their motto, the words, " Victory or death."
The Bellerophon was three times set on fire, and
three times the fire was put out, quietly, and without
out fuss or excitement. A captain of the
marines, on his way to the cockpit to have his
arm amputated, had apologised to Lieutenant
Cumby for quitting the deck "for so trivial
an occasion."

The Spaniards had fought well, but they, too,
now gave way. The Argonauta and Bahama had
each lost four hundred men, the St. Juan
Nepomuceno three hundred and fifty. The men of
the Santissima, unable to endure our fire, leaped
overboard, and were helped into the Victory.
The crews of five of the French ships, fought
by us muzzle to muzzle, had shut their lower-
deck ports, and deserted their guns.

In the mean time, Nelson lay in agony and in
great anxiety about the action. He kept saying:

"Will no one bring Hardy to me? He must
be killed; I am certain that he is dead."

Mr. Bulkly, the captain's aide-de-camp, then
came below, and, in a low voice, communicated
to the surgeon the particular circumstances
respecting the fleet which had detained
Captain Hardy, but promised that he would take
the first moment that offered to leave the deck.