Admiral Nelson.—The loss of his eye and his arm.—Struggle between Nelson’s barge and the armed launch.—Sykes the coxswain.—Nelson’s thanksgiving for his recovery.—His coolness in danger.—Battle of Copenhagen.—Hewson the seaman.—Battle of the Nile.—Nelson’s prayer before the battle of Trafalgar.—His signals on board the Victory.—His wound.—His death.

“Tell us what you can of Admiral Nelson, uncle.”

“Admiral Nelson, boys, was old England’s right hand. A very thunderbolt in war, and devoted, as much as a seaman could be, to his country’s cause. Life is but a short cruise—the best bower anchor may be tripped, the main-sheet rent, and the main-mast go by the board with the best of us, without leaving us time to write up our log. As every man has his faults, I suppose he had his; however, it is not my business to speak of them, but only to tell you how fearlessly and successfully he stood forward in defence of his country, and in defiance of his enemies.”

“He was sadly wounded, was he not, for his picture is always drawn with one arm?”

“He lost the sight of one eye at the siege of Calvi, by a shot driving the sand and gravel into it, and he lost his arm by a shot in an expedition against Teneriffe; but the most dangerous of his daring exploits were, boarding the battery at San Bartolomeo, boarding the San Joseph, the boat action in the bay of Cadiz, and the famous battles of the Nile and Trafalgar. Of these, perhaps, the boat action during the blockade of Cadiz was the most severe. While making an attempt against the Spanish gun-boats, he was attacked by D. Miguel Tregayen in an armed launch, carrying twenty-six men; fearful odds against his ten bargemen, captain, and coxswain. Eighteen Spaniards were killed, the rest wounded, and the launch captured.”

“The Spaniards were more than two to one, and yet he beat them!”

“He did; but it was a hard and desperate struggle, hand to hand and blade to blade. Twice did John Sykes, the coxswain, save Nelson’s life, by parrying off blows that would have destroyed him, and once did he interpose his head to receive the blow of a Spanish sabre; but he would willingly have died for his admiral.”

“Was poor Sykes killed, or was he only wounded?”

“Wounded badly, but not killed.”

“That’s right, for he was a faithful fellow. It would have been a sad pity if he had been killed.”

“When Nelson’s health was established after the loss of his arm, he sent to the minister of St. George’s, Hanover-square, the following desire to offer up his thanksgiving:—‘An officer desires to return thanks to Almighty God for his perfect recovery from a severe wound, and also for the many mercies bestowed on him.’”

“He was humble enough, then, to be thankful to God.”

“He was; and continued so in the midst of all his successes. I will give you an instance of his coolness in the hour of danger. The late Lieutenant-general the Hon. Sir William Stewart, as lieutenant-colonel of the rifle-brigade, embarked to do duty in the fleet which was led by Sir Hyde Parker and Nelson, to the attack of Copenhagen in 1801. ‘I was,’ says he, ‘with Lord Nelson when he wrote the note to the Crown Prince of Denmark, proposing terms of arrangement.’ A cannonball struck off the head of the boy who was crossing the cabin with the light to seal it. ‘Bring another candle,’ said his lordship. I observed, that I thought it might very well be sent as it was, for it would not be expected that the usual forms could be observed at such a moment. ‘That is the very thing that I should wish to avoid, Colonel,’ replied he, ‘for if the least appearance of precipitation were perceptible in the manner of sending this note, it might spoil all.’ Another candle being now brought, his lordship sealed the letter, carefully enclosed in an envelope, with a seal bearing his coat-of-arms and coronet, and delivered it to the officer in waiting to receive it. It is said that the moment was a critical one, and that Lord Nelson’s note decided the event.”

“Why, the next ball to that which took off the boy’s head might have killed Nelson, and yet he seems to have felt no fear at all.”

“A brave man may feel fear, but it will not keep him from the discharge of what he looks upon as his duty.”

“What did Nelson do at the battle of Copenhagen?”

“I will tell you of the battle of Copenhagen, in few words. It was in the year 1801 that a British fleet, under Admiral Sir Hyde Parker and Vice-admiral Lord Nelson, sailed into the Baltic to attack the northern Powers before they joined their fleets to those of France and Holland. The Danes had made great preparation. They had six sail-of-the-line, eleven floating batteries, and small craft without number, chained to one another, and to the ground. These were all under the protection of the Crown batteries, which mounted more than four score guns, besides the fortifications of the Island of Amack. But the British admirals were all undaunted.”

“Nothing would daunt Admiral Nelson. He was always ready, if what is said of him is true, to fight with the enemies of his country.”

“Nelson, who might have taken for his motto,

led on the attack, with twelve ships of the line, besides frigates and fire-ships. There was plenty to do, and no hanging back on the part of British sailors. For four hours there was as hard fighting as any one could desire, thundering away on both sides, crashing and smashing, till the whole Danish fleet, with the exception of a few schooners and bomb-vessels, were sunk, burnt, or taken. Had not a negotiation taken place, most likely the Danish capital would have been destroyed. I will give you an anecdote of Admiral Nelson and a common seaman, that few people know of. It was told me by Hewson’s master.”

“Who was Hewson?”

“Listen, and you shall hear.”

“A seaman of the name of Hewson, who had served under Lord Nelson, was working as a caster in a manufactory at Birmingham when Nelson visited the place. Among other manufactories, the admiral paid a visit to that where Hewson was at work as a brassfounder; and though no employment disfigures a workman more with smoke and dust than the process of casting, the quick eye of Nelson recognized in the caster an old associate. ‘What, Hewson, my lad!’ said he, ‘are you here?’ Hewson laid hold of the hair that hung over his forehead, and making an awkward bow, replied, ‘Yes, your honour.’ ‘Why, how comes this about! You and I are old acquaintances; you were with me in the Captain when I boarded the San Joseph, were you not?’ Hewson again laid hold of his hair, and bowing, replied, ‘Yes, your honour.’ ‘I remember you well,’ said Nelson: ‘you were one of the cleverest fellows about the vessel! If anything was to be done Hewson was the lad to do it. Why, what do you do here, working like a negro? Take this,’ throwing him money, ‘and wash the dust down your throat.’ Hewson withdrew to a neighbouring ale-house, boasting of the character the admiral had given him. Month after month passed away, but Hewson returned not—his shop-tools were abandoned, and no one could account for his absence. At length a stripling, in a sailor’s jacket, entered the manufactory and said, ‘He was come to settle his father’s affairs.’ This was no other than Hewson’s son, from whose account it appeared, that when Hewson, somewhat elevated with liquor, but more with the praise the admiral had bestowed on him, quitted Birmingham, he walked his way down to Portsmouth, entered once more on board Lord Nelson’s ship, and fell with him in the battle of Trafalgar.”

“Poor Hewson!”

“In the battle of the Nile Nelson took nine French ships of the line, and burnt two; but Trafalgar was his grand fight. Collingwood, in the Royal Sovereign, led the lee-line of fourteen ships. Nelson, in the Victory, was at the head of the weather-line, consisting of fourteen ships. Besides these there were four frigates.”

“How many ships were there against them?”

“The ships of France and Spain opposed to the British were in number thirty-three, with seven large frigates. The odds were great against the English, but the superior tactics, and well-known bravery of Nelson, clothed him with power, and more than made up the difference. I speak, boys, of Nelson as a man, well knowing that the God of battle can alone give success to a mortal arm. Nelson knew this well, and, when everything was prepared for the engagement, he retired into his cabin alone and wrote down the following prayer.

“‘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 that made me; and may his blessing alight on my endeavours for serving my country faithfully! To him I resign myself, and the just cause which is entrusted to me to defend. Amen! Amen! Amen!’”

“What a solemn prayer! It seems almost as if he thought he should be sure to be killed.”

“He wore on the day of the battle his admiral’s frock coat, and on his left breast, over his heart, boys, four stars of the orders of honour, which had been conferred upon him. Those around thought it was dangerous to wear his stars, lest he should be too plainly seen by the enemy, but they were afraid to tell him so, because he had said, ‘In honour I gained them, and in honour I will die with them.’”

“O dear! he should not have worn his stars.”

“The effect produced by the signal given by Lord Nelson, ‘England expects every man to do his duty!’ was wonderful; it ran from ship to ship, from man to man, from heart to heart, like a train of gunpowder. Officers and men seemed animated with one spirit, and that was a determination to win the day, or at least never to surrender to the enemy.”

“There must be something terrible in preparing for such a fight.”

“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!”

“Even amid the exultation of victory a grateful country mourned his loss. A bountiful provision was made for his family; a public funeral was awarded to his remains, and monuments in the principal cities of his native land were erected to his memory. A sorrowing nation lamented over his bier, and Britannia, indeed, felt that old England’s defender was numbered with the dead.