Then came the incident that specially concerned theTéméraire. A little time after theNeptunehad resumed her station theTémérairewas herself hailed from theVictoryand ordered to pass the flagship and lead the line. Captain Blackwood of theEuryalus, who with the other frigate captains was on board the flagship, in his anxiety for Nelson's personal safety that day, on having his first suggestion that Nelson should direct the battle from on board theEuryalusset aside by the admiral, next suggested that theTéméraireshould be allowed to lead theVictoryinto battle, to help in drawing off some of theenemy's fire. The enemy's fire, urged Blackwood, would be certain to fall with exceptional severity on the leader of the line, particularly when the leading ship was so easily recognisable a vessel as the British flagship. Nelson assented—or seemed to assent. 'Oh yes,' the admiral answered, with a significant smile and giving a look towards Captain Hardy, 'let her go ahead—if shecan!' Blackwood went aft and himself hailed theTéméraireto move up, and she was also signalled to do so.
The hail was heard. Blackwood had a voice about which a number of good stories used to be told in the Navy. 'It could,' one of his officers once said, 'carry half a mile.'
At once theTémérairemade every effort to press forward. She was, as the sailors said, 'flying light' that day; having been away from port for some time she was carrying less dead-weight than usual, most of her sea-stores and heavy casks of beef and water having been used up. Fast sailer as theVictorywas—she was admittedly the fastest three-decker in all the Royal Navy—theTémérairebefore long began to close on the flagship and overlap her, by degrees working up closer to theVictory, and finally racing her side by side, almost abreast. It was a grand moment for Captain Harvey and his gallantTéméraires. But the goal was not yet won.
Nelson's mood had yet to be taken into account,and Nelson was in no humour to see his flagship passed. No ship in the world should give theVictorya lead on the day of battle. As theTémérairesheered alongside, the admiral stepped up briskly to theVictory'spoop and from there hailed across in a curt tone to the quarter-deck of theTéméraire. Speaking with a strong nasal twang, in his Norfolk accent, as we are told, he called over: 'I'll thank you, Captain Harvey, to keep your proper station, which isastarnof theVictory!'
TheTémérairehad to drop back, exactly as theNeptunehad previously had to do, and content herself with following in theVictory'swake. She closed up astern and kept so near that her jib-boom, in Captain Harvey's own words, 'almost touched the stern of theVictory.'[98]
The same spirit of eager anxiety to get early into battle prevailed everywhere, coupled with the utmost friendliness and good-comradeship. TheTonnant, the second ship in Collingwood's line, was ordered in the course of the morning to give up the place of honour to the fasterBelleisle. As theBelleislewas passing her. Captain Tyler of theTonnanton a carronade slide and called across to the other captain (Hargood): 'A glorious day for old England: we shall have one a-piece before night!' A moment later theTonnant'sband, by way of greeting to theBelleisle, began to play 'Britons Strike Home.'[99]
Such was the spirit in which Nelson's Captains went into battle at Trafalgar as the hour for the opening of the fight drew on.
There is, as it happens, no note in theTéméraire'slog of Nelson's famous signal, 'England expects that every man will do his duty'; but it is on record that it was received by Signal Midshipman Eaton, who acknowledged it to theVictory. We know from Captain Blackwood, who was with the Admiral at the time, how it was received by all the ships near by with 'a shout of answering acclamation,' and theTémérairewas the nearest ship of all to theVictoryat that moment. After the battle theTéméraire'sofficers had the words engraved on a brass plate which was let into the quarter-deck in front of the steering wheel, where it remained till the ship came to her end.
At noon, almost to the minute, the first shot was fired—by the enemy. It came from a French ship lying nearly opposite the head of Collingwood's line, theFougueux. It was aimed at theRoyal Sovereign—to try the range. The shot went home, and at once other French andSpanish ships near by took up the firing. TheRoyal Sovereignwas about 400 yards off at the moment, about three-quarters gunshot.
At the same time the enemy all along their line hoisted their colours, the Spaniards in addition hanging up large wooden crosses at their gaffs. Why they did so has never been explained. Some of the Spanish captains had held special religious services on board their ships at an earlier hour that morning,[100]but it is not known that that had any connection with the display of the crosses.
A midshipman fired the first shot on the British side at Trafalgar—by accident. It came from theBellerophon. To the surprise of the whole fleet, as they were nearing the enemy a spurt of smoke flew out from the side of theBellerophonfollowed by the boom of a single gun. It was, according to theSpartiate'slog—theBellerophonherself does not record it—just as Nelson's great message was going up. On board every other ship they were holding their hands: the officers of the batteries had orders to wait until their ship was in the act of passing through the enemy. A boy midshipman of theBellerophontripped, or caught his foot, in the loose end of a gun-lock lanyard and let off one of the ship's 32-pounders. His name is not on record, norwhat they did to him. The shot had the unfortunate effect of drawing the enemy's attention specially to theBellerophon, and as they got the ship's range a little later they turned their guns on her and pounded at her heavily, under the impression that the gun had been meant as a signal, and that some officer of distinction was on board that particular ship.
Collingwood opened the battle on the British side and first of all broke the enemy's line at Trafalgar, as all the world knows. All the world knows also how he did it. TheRoyal Sovereign'sfirst broadside, as she broke through immediately astern of the Spanish flagshipSanta Ana, struck down 400 men and dismounted fourteen guns. 'Il rompait todos,' it smashed down everything—as a Spanish officer on board theSanta Anaafterwards wrote. 'What sheep,'—asked in broken English the Spanish officer who came on board Collingwood's flagship on the surrender of theSanta Anato give up his sword on behalf of the wounded Vice-Admiral Alava,—'What sheep is dis?' He was told. 'Royal Sovereign!' the Spaniard exclaimed, 'Madre de Dios! she should be named deRoyal Devil!'
The ships immediately facing Nelson as he advanced began their firing a few minutes after the others, theVictoryandTéméraireand the leading ships of that column being farther offfrom the enemy. TheBucentaure, an 80-gun ship, on board which Admiral Villeneuve was, led off here.
Of the opening scene on the enemy's side at that point, we have a vivid narrative from a French officer—Captain Lucas of theRedoutable, a ship destined to fill a large part in theTéméraire'sstory.[101]'At half-past eleven,' says Captain Lucas,—giving the time, as it would appear, according to his own watch, which was slow,—'the fleet hoisted its colours, and those of theRedoutablewere done in an imposing manner, the drums and fifes playing, and the soldiers[102]presenting arms as the flag was hoisted. The enemy's column, which was directed against our fleet, was now on the port side, and the flagshipBucentaurebegan firing. I ordered a number of the chief gunners to mount to the forecastle and told them to notice how many of our ships fired badly. They found that all their shots carried too low. I then ordered them to aim at dismasting, and above all to aim well. At a quarter to twelve theRedoutableopened fire with a shot from the first gun-division which cut through theforetopsail yard of theVictory, causing it to lie over the foremast, whilst shouts of joy resounded all over the ship.'
Lord Nelson held his fire. No notice was taken of the firing of the French and Spaniards, except that, in response to the enemy's opening shots, the whole British fleet simultaneously hoisted their colours. Nelson showed a Vice-Admiral of the White's flag at the fore in theVictory; Collingwood the flag of a Vice-Admiral of the Blue at the fore in theRoyal Sovereign; Lord Northesk, the third in command, a Rear-Admiral of the White's flag at the mizen of theBritannia. All the ships in both divisions displayed the White Ensign at the peak, and, by Nelson's particular order, to ensure that there should be no firing into friends in the smoke and confusion of battle, and in case colours got shot away, every ship flew at least two other British flags besides their ensigns: Jacks or Union flags, one on the foretopmast stay and one on the main-topmast stay. Some ships showed more; theVictory, for instance, flew five British flags; theOrionflew (including her ensign) four.
A young officer of theNeptune, the ship next astern to theTéméraire, Midshipman Badcock, thus describes what things were like near him about this time. 'Lord Nelson's van was strong: three three-deckers—Victory,Téméraire,Neptune—and four seventy-fours, their jib-booms nearlyover the others' taffrails, the bands playing "God Save the King," "Rule, Britannia," and "Britons Strike Home"; the crews stationed on the forecastle of the different ships, cheering the ship ahead of them when the enemy began to fire, sent those feelings to our hearts that ensured victory.'[103]'TheTéméraireat this moment,' Captain Harvey himself says, in a letter to his wife after the battle, 'almost touched the stern of theVictory, which station she had taken about a quarter of an hour previous to the enemy having commenced their fire upon theVictory.'
TheTéméraire'slog thus describes the opening of the battle:—
P.M.Variable light winds. Running down with lower topmast and topgallant studding sails set, on the larboard side, within a ship's length of theVictory, steering for the fourteenth ship of the enemy's line from the van. Quarter past noon, cut away the studding sails and hauled to the wind. At 18 minutes past noon the enemy began to fire. At 25 minutes past noon theVictoryopened her fire. Immediately put our helm a-port to steer clear of theVictory, and opened our fire on theSantisima Trinidadand two ships ahead of her, when the action became general.
P.M.Variable light winds. Running down with lower topmast and topgallant studding sails set, on the larboard side, within a ship's length of theVictory, steering for the fourteenth ship of the enemy's line from the van. Quarter past noon, cut away the studding sails and hauled to the wind. At 18 minutes past noon the enemy began to fire. At 25 minutes past noon theVictoryopened her fire. Immediately put our helm a-port to steer clear of theVictory, and opened our fire on theSantisima Trinidadand two ships ahead of her, when the action became general.
Nelson broke through immediately astern of the FrenchBucentaure, the ship on board whichhe had himself made up his mind, from her position, Villeneuve would most likely be found. For some unknown reason the French admiral's flag was not flying that day. Nelson, however, as they advanced, had kept theVictory'sbowsprit pointing for theSantisima Trinidad. Something instinctively told him that he should find the enemy's Commander-in-Chief on board one of the two ships immediately astern of the big Spanish four-decker, probably in the ship next astern. He was right. Villeneuve was on board that ship; the next astern to theSantisima Trinidad, theBucentaure.
As theVictorysteered through the enemy's line theTéméraireput her helm over to port and drew out from her leader's wake. She had to find a passage through the enemy for herself. It was not easy. Immediately ahead of her the FrenchRedoutable, a seventy-four, the ship following theBucentaure, barred the way. TheTémérairefor some little time drifted along slowly. She had received serious damage aloft to sails and rigging during the previous half-hour as she and theVictorywere nearing the enemy under fire, and the breeze was dropping lighter every minute. She opened a brisk cannonade on theRedoutableand on the FrenchNeptune, a large 80-gun ship that came next astern of her.
TheRedoutable'sfire shot away the head of theTéméraire'smizen-topmast. She held on, however, standing to the south-east and outside the enemy's line, until at length she bore up to avoid being raked by theNeptuneand to go through the line. There was scarcely any wind at all now, and the smoke hung heavily all round. Slowly theTéméraireforged her way ahead, groping her course forward in some little uncertainty as to her own whereabouts. As she passed through the line, she unavoidably gave a chance to the FrenchNeptune, which ship, getting her port broadside to bear on theTéméraire'sstarboard bow, attacked her fiercely. TheNeptuneshot away theTéméraire'smain-topmast and foreyard, and crippled the foremast and bowsprit, besides causing other damage which rendered theTémérairealmost unmanageable. In the dense smoke all round her officers hardly knew for the moment where they had got to. 'We were engaged with theSantisima Trinidadand the other ships,' wrote Captain Harvey in his letter home, 'when for a minute or two I ceased my fire, fearing I might, from the thickness of the smoke, be firing into theVictory.'
Then for a brief space there was a rift in the smoke. It showed theVictoryalongside a French two-decker (theRedoutable), and foul of her. The two ships were seen not far off and were drifting down directly on to theTéméraire. Everyeffort was made to move out of the way and keep clear, but in her disabled state it was impossible to get theTéméraireunder control. Within the past few minutes, under theNeptune'spunishing fire, all three of theTéméraire'stopmasts had been shot away, her mizen yard had come down, the rudder head had been smashed off. All that could be done was to cannonade theRedoutableas she gradually drifted nearer until the actual collision came.
That took place just as Captain Lucas was about to make an attempt to board theVictory. His musketry from the tops seemed to have almost cleared theVictory'supper decks of men, and, mad as was the idea of so settling with a British first-rate, and Lord Nelson's flagship to boot, the captain of theRedoutableactually entertained it. A sweepingmitrailleof grape from the 68-pounder carronade on theVictory'sforecastle, fired into the thick of the French boarders as they crowded on the gangways from below, did not daunt him, and he still persevered after the first rush had been checked by the impossibility of getting across the space between the bulwarks of the two ships. That difficulty Captain Lucas saw his way to meet. 'I gave the order,' he says, 'to cut the supports of the main yard and to cause it to serve as a bridge. Midshipman Yon and four seamen sprang on board by means of the anchorof theVictory, and we observed that there was no one left in the batteries. At that moment, when our men were hastening to follow, the shipTéméraire, which had noticed that theVictoryfought no longer, and that she would be captured without fail, came full sail on our starboard side, and we were subjected to the full fire of her artillery.'
It proved for theRedoutable, in the language of the prize-ring, a 'knock-out' blow. As theTémérairecame into collision with theRedoutableshe fired her entire broadside, double-shotted, full into the French boarding-parties as they stood massed thickly and packed along theRedoutable'supper decks from end to end. It meant instant annihilation. It was a massacre. The awful tornado of theTéméraire'sfire swept theRedoutable'scrowded decks clear of men, as a garden broom sweeps a path clear of autumn leaves. It struck down everything. At one blow it hurled into eternity nearly a third of theRedoutable'swhole crew. Midshipman Yon, we are told, disappeared, and was never seen again. Lieutenant Dupotet, at the head of the boarders, was struck down, mangled and dying. Captain Lucas himself received an ugly flesh wound—his first after seeing service in nine battles.
Speaking of theTéméraire'sonslaught Captain Lucas in his official report says: 'It is impossibleto describe the carnage produced by the murderous broadside of this ship; more than 200 of our brave men were killed or wounded; I was wounded also at the same time, but not sufficiently to prevent me staying at my post.'
CAPTAIN LUCAS
The gallant captain of theRedoutablestayed at his post. He set his teeth and refused to admit that his ship had received hercoup de grâce. In spite of his awful losses the gallant fellow still tried to make a show of fight. 'I ordered the rest of the crew to place themselves promptly in thebatteries and fire at theTémérairethe guns that her fire had not dismounted. This order was carried out.' At the same time theRedoutablemet theTéméraire, as she swung alongside, with a hail of bullets from the tops that almost cleared the upper deck of Captain Harvey's ship, while the topmen also flung down hand grenades and fire-balls. TheRedoutable'stopmen, indeed, flung the fire-balls about with criminal recklessness.[104]They endangered their own ship. Some of the fire-balls falling short rebounded back on board theRedoutableand set the French ship herself on fire. One fell blazing on board theTéméraireand caused a fire below that nearly led to a catastrophe which threatened to involveTéméraire,Redoutable, andVictoryalike in one common destruction. The pluck and presence of mind of theTéméraire'smaster-at-arms, Mr. John Toohig, saved the after-magazine, and with it the ship. The fire-ball, as it was, caused a serious explosion and loss of life on the main deck. At the same time theTémérairewas set ablaze elsewhere, on the upper deck, by a fire that had been caused on board theRedoutableby one of her own fire-balls falling short, and had spread across to theTéméraire, and also to theVictoryon the other side, but the flames in all three ships werefortunately got under before they had time to take serious hold.
TheTéméraire'scaptain very soon had something else to think of besides theRedoutable. Hardly had theRedoutablebeen lashed fast alongside than another enemy came on the scene, and one that was apparently approaching with the fixed intention of attacking theTéméraireat close quarters. The FrenchNeptunewas at the same time remaining near by, barely a ship's length off, firing her hardest into theTéméraire.
The newcomer was the FrenchFougueux, the ship that had fired the first shot in the battle. She had already had a rough time of it elsewhere, but she was still full of fight, and with nearly 700 men on board, was likely to prove a dangerous foe to a ship situated as was theTéméraireat that moment. TheFougueuxhad beenmatelot d'arrière, or 'second astern' to the Spanish flagshipSanta Ana, just as theRedoutablehad been theBucentaure'ssecond. In that capacity she had experienced some hard knocks at Collingwood's hands, and then, after a brisk exchange of fire with the BritishBelleisle, as that ship followed Collingwood into the fight, she had had a sharp set-to with theMars. Through all this theFougueuxhad not come unscathed, but she was still a very formidable opponent for theTéméraireto tackle.
TheFougueuxcame on as though bent onrescuing theRedoutable. It did not look an impossible task. Both theVictoryand theTéméraireshowed signs of having undergone a very severe mauling, and there was the FrenchNeptunenear by, apparently quite fresh and ready to lend a hand, only waiting for an opportunity to join in the fray. TheTéméraireparticularly, looked in a bad way. Under theNeptune'spunishing fire, she had been reduced aloft to the appearance of a wreck. Her topmasts had gone, her foreyard was gone, her foremast was tottering, all her rigging was torn and tangled, her sails hung down in rags. Her ensign, too, had been shot away, or at least was down owing to the fall of the gaff; very few men were to be seen alive on her upper deck; not a shot came from her guns on the broadside facing theFougueux.
Captain Baudoin, the captain of theFougueux, seemed at first uncertain whether he would lie off to leeward, and with theNeptune'shelp rake and cannonade theTéméraireinto submission, or come to close quarters at once and board. The second alternative seemed to promise quicker results, and he adopted it. He made up his mind to bring the matter to an issue on the spot before other British ships could interfere, and carry theTéméraireby acoup de main. The few people he saw about on theTéméraire'supper deck was one inducement to try boarding her. He could not know, ofcourse, that Captain Harvey had ordered everybody who could possibly be spared to go below so as to avoid unnecessary loss of life from theRedoutable'smusketry. Another was that theTéméraire'sattention seemed to be wholly devoted to theRedoutable. Captain Baudoin put theFougueux'shead directly for theTéméraire, and as they closed, the French ship's shrouds quickly became black with men, cutlass in hand, while more swarmed on the forecastle and gangways cheering and shouting 'À l'abordage! à l'abordage!' So theFougueuxneared theTéméraire. For her part, as it befell, theTémérairehad for some time foreseen what was coming. She was by no means so incapable of meeting a new antagonist as she looked.
TheTéméraire, as it happened, had not yet fired a single shot from her guns on the starboard broadside. She had her triple tier of 32-pounders and long 18's ranged there all ready, all double-shotted and clear for action. To man these guns was quick work. Without checking the fire that theTémérairewas keeping up into theRedoutableand theNeptune, Lieutenant Kennedy, the first lieutenant, rapidly called away sufficient hands from the guns on the port side to man all the starboard batteries. Then the gallant officer and his men waited—the captain of each gun standing ready with arm raised and his firing lanyard out-stretched stiff as wire—all eagerlywatching the coming on of theFougueux. Not a sign that the guns were manned came from theTéméraire'sports, as nearer and nearer the French seventy-four swept down on her. Now she was 200 yards off—now 150—now 100—now 80 yards! Confidently came theFougueuxon as to certain conquest, amid wild tempestuous shoutings of 'A l'abordage!' 'Vive l'Empereur! Vive l'Empereur!' The supreme moment came.
'Téméraires—stand by—fire!'
Holding back until the yard-arms of the two ships all but touched, with a deafening thunder-burst that for the instant overpowered all other sounds of battle, theTéméraire'swhole starboard broadside went off at once, in one salvo, like one gigantic gun. A terrific crash re-echoed back, with yells and shrieks. There was no more shouting from theFougueux. As the smoke drifted off, theTéméraire'smen looked and saw the enemy's rigging and forecastle and decks swept clean and bare. The next minute, with her whole side practically beaten in, crushed in like an eggshell trampled under foot, the hapless seventy-four ran, blundering blindly, in hopeless confusion, right into theTéméraire.[105]
Like theRedoutableshe was promptly lashed fast, and then—'Boarders away!' was the call. A master's mate, a little middy, twenty seamen, six marines, followed close behind Lieutenant Kennedy as he clambered into theFougueux'smain rigging, and thence down on to theFougueux'squarter-deck. One of the seamen with the boarding-party had a Union Jack rolled round his neck. 'It'll come handy perhaps,' said the brave fellow as he followed his messmates over the side. There was a sharp tussle on the quarter-deck of theFougueux, where Captain Baudoin, struck down by theTéméraire'sbroadside, lay mortally wounded. Second-Captain Bazin hastily rallied seventy or eighty men, called up from below to meet the boarders, but the impetuous onset of the nine-and-twentyTémérairescarried everything before it despite the odds. TheFougueux'ssecond captain was cut down. A lieutenant who took his place was shot dead with a pistol bullet through the heart. The Frenchmen then gave way and broke and were driven off the quarter-deck pell-mell. Slashing and stabbing their way, without a single fresh man from the ship, in less than twelve minutes Lieutenant Kennedy's party were masters of theFougueux. They hustled the surrendered Frenchmen down into the hold, clapped the hatches on them, and then the Union Jack came in 'handy' to hoist over the tricolour on theFougueux' ensign staff.
So theRedoutable'swould-be rescuer was added to the row of four ships, all fast to one another side by side, theVictory,Redoutable,Téméraire, andFougueux.
Relieved from the hostile presence of theFougueux, theTéméraireturned her attention to finishing off theRedoutable, now plainly at her last gasp, though still unsubdued. Her guns were silenced, but musket shots still came from the tops. A few minutes later theVictorybroke herself clear and steered away from the group. She boomed herself off, leaving Captain Harvey to receive in due course the submission of theRedoutable.
But even now Captain Lucas would not give up. 'TheTéméraire, to quote Captain Lucas's own words once more, 'hailed us to give ourselves up and not prolong a useless resistance. I ordered some soldiers near me to answer this summons by firing, which was done with alacrity.' The end, though, was at last really at hand. Scarcely had the British flagship broken away than theRedoutable'smain and mizen masts came down. The main-mast crashed over theTéméraire'spoop, and in its fall formed a bridge from ship to ship, across which a party of theTéméraire'sofficers and men, headed by the second lieutenant, John Wallace, promptly clambered. With more than 500 of his original crew of 600 oddhors de combat,dead or wounded, there was no opposition possible, and Captain Lucas had to yield up his sword.
Victory.Redoutable.Téméraire.Fougueux.BATTLE OF TRAFALGAR.October 21, 1805—2.15P.M.
No captain, perhaps, ever fought his ship better against overwhelming odds than Captain Lucas fought theRedoutableat Trafalgar. Napoleon had him specially exchanged as soon as possible, and sent for him to St. Cloud where, in the presence of the assembledÉtat Major, he decorated him with his own hand with the Grand Cross of the Legion of Honour.[106]'Had my other captains,' said the Emperor, 'behaved as you did, the event of the battle would have been very different.' There is an ironcladRedoutablein the French navy to-day which bears the name in remembrance of the gallant two-decker lost with honour at Trafalgar.
TheTéméraire, however, had still one of her first foes left. The FrenchNeptunewas still dangerously near. She was lying where she had been from the first, pounding away steadily into theTémérairefrom a short distance off, 'willing to wound but still afraid to strike.' It says little for the courage of the French captain that he had not ventured to force home an attack at close quarters, and less still for the gunnery of his menthat it had not before this reduced theTéméraireto a sinking state. Not far off, also, there was, as theTéméraire'slog notes, 'a Spanish two-decked ship ... on the larboard bow or nearly ahead, who had raked us during great part of the action.' On seeing theVictorymove off, the FrenchNeptuneapparently took heart of grace. She now made as if she really meant at last to close with theTéméraire. It was not very brave of theNeptune, seeing how theTémérairewas situated, with five-sixths of her guns blocked in by the two prizes alongside. But all the same theTémérairedid her best to give theNeptunea warm reception. By clearing away the wreckage from aloft that overlay most of theTéméraire'supper-deck guns, Captain Harvey was able to get some of these into action and keep theNeptuneoff. Then a few minutes later assistance arrived. The approach of theLeviathan, a British seventy-four, once more daunted theNeptune, and she sheered off and withdrew altogether from the scene.
After that came a well-earned breathing space for theTéméraireand her gallant crew, a brief half-hour's pause that Captain Harvey and his men made use of in putting prize-crews in charge of theRedoutableandFougueux, and doing what they could towards repairing their own damages and clearing away their wrecked top-hamper. TheSiriusfrigate during this spell, in response to asignal from Captain Harvey, took theTéméraireand her prizes in tow.
A note in theTéméraire'slog shows how intermixed some of the British ships had now got. 'TheRoyal Sovereign,' it says, 'was a short distance to leeward, and theColossus, dismasted, with one of the enemy's two-deckers on board of her, who had struck, and appeared to be Spanish.'
In the half-hour that theTémérairestood by, the battle passed through its crisis, although fighting went on fiercely at many points for another two hours yet. Before half-past two, six or seven of the enemy had given in and could be seen 'lying with British ensigns displayed at the stern over tricolours or Spanish flags.' By three o'clock nearly a third of the enemy's fleet had either struck their colours or were on the point of striking them, and another third were hauling out of line and preparing to quit the battle and run for Cadiz. The Spanish flagshipSanta Ana, with every mast down and her starboard side shattered to matchwood, had surrendered to theRoyal Sovereign. The French flagshipBucentaurehad hauled down her ensign and Admiral Villeneuve was a prisoner on board the BritishMars.
The surrender of theBucentaure—although perhaps it only comes incidentally into theTéméraire'sstory—was one of the most dramatic events of Trafalgar. When the French flagship,beaten to a standstill, with her three masts shot down, one after the other within five minutes, was on the point of surrendering, Admiral Villeneuve ordered a boat to be lowered to take him on board another French ship. 'LeBucentaure,' said Villeneuve as he gave the order, 'à rempli sa tâche, la mienne n'est pas encore achevée.'[107]But every one of theBucentaure'sboats was found to have been smashed to pieces. Then Villeneuve's flag-captain, Majendie, hurried aft and clambering into the wreckage of the ship's stern gallery with his speaking-trumpet hailed theSantisima Trinidadto send a boat at once. There was no reply. TheTrinidadwas lying quite close to theBucentaureat that moment, so close that only a very few yards separated Majendie from her as he hailed, but the tremendous thunder of the guns all round completely overpowered his voice. Nor did any one on board the Spanish ship see him. There was no means of attracting help from elsewhere. TheBucentaurehad indeed done her work—and Villeneuve's too. There was left now but one thing to do. The colours of theBucentaurewere hauled down to the nearest British ship,—a seventy-four named, by something of a coincidence, theConqueror,—'and a white handkerchief was wavedfrom her in token of submission.' Captain Israel Pellew was in command of theConqueror. He was at the moment unable to spare Lieutenant Couch, his First Lieutenant, to whom in ordinary course the duty of boarding the prize would have fallen, and being unaware, from the absence throughout the battle of Villeneuve's flag from theBucentaure'smast-head, that the enemy's Commander-in-Chief had surrendered to him, he told Captain Atcherley of theConqueror'smarines to go in the First Lieutenant's place and take possession of theBucentaure. Atcherley went off in a small boat with two seamen and a corporal and two marines. He was pulled alongside and clambered on board the prize, little dreaming whom he was going to meet and the reception in store for him. This is what then took place.
VILLENEUVE'S SWORD
As Atcherley gained theBucentaure'supper-deck and the British officer's red coat showed itself onthe quarter-deck of the French flagship, four French officers of rank stepped forward all bowing and presenting their swords. One was a tall, thin, sad-faced man of about forty-two, in a long-tailed uniform coat with flat high collar and dark green corduroy breeches, gold-laced at the sides. It was Admiral Villeneuve himself. The second was a short, rotund, jolly-faced man, a typicalboulevardierin appearance:—Flag-Captain Majendie.[108]The third was Second-Captain Prigny of theBucentaure; and the fourth a soldier resplendent in the full-dress uniform—somewhat besmirched by powder-smoke—of a Brigadier of the Grand Army, General de Contamine, the officer in charge of the four thousand troops that were serving on board the French Fleet that day.
'To whom,' asked Admiral Villeneuve in good English, 'have I the honour of surrendering?'
'To Captain Pellew of theConqueror.'
'I am glad to have struck to the fortunate Sir Edward Pellew.'
'It is his brother, Sir,' said Captain Atcherley.
'His brother! What; are there two of them? Hélas!'
'Fortune de guerre!' said Captain Majendie with a shrug of his wide shoulders as he became a prisoner of war to the British Navy for the thirdtime in his life. Prigny and De Contamine said nothing, as far as we know.
Captain Atcherley politely suggested that the swords of such high officers had better be handed to an officer of superior rank to himself—to Captain Pellew. He then went below to secure the magazines, passing between decks amid an awful scene of carnage and destruction. 'The dead thrown back as they fell lay along the middle of the decks in heaps, and the shot passing through these had frightfully mangled the bodies.... More than four hundred had been killed and wounded, of whom an extraordinary proportion had lost their heads. A raking shot which entered in the lower deck had glanced along the beams and through the thickest of the people, and a French officer declared that this shot alone had killed or disabled nearly forty men.'[109]
Atcherley locked up the magazines and put the keys in his pocket, posted his two marines as sentries at the doors of the Admiral's and flag-captain's cabins, and then returning on deck, he conducted Villeneuve, Majendie, and Second-Captain Prigny down the side into his little boat which rowed off in search of theConqueror. The ship, however, had ranged ahead to engage another enemy, and as her whereabouts could not be discovered in the smoke,the prisoners were temporarily placed on board the nearest British ship, which happened to be theMars.
The battle, however, even though both the French Commander-in-Chief and the Spanish Second in Command[110]and also the bigSantisima Trinidadwith the Spanish Third in Command,[111]had surrendered, was not yet over. There were still a number of ships of the enemy that were yet apparently unbeaten, besides one group that had hardly fired a shot as yet.
At three o'clock, or a few minutes after that, theTéméraire'smen had again to stand to their guns. Fresh foes were seen approaching.
These were five of the ships of Villeneuve's van squadron under Rear-Admiral Dumanoir. Admiral Villeneuve's last signal had been to order Dumanoir's squadron, which had been cut off by Nelson's tactics and had so far not been engaged at all, to head round and come to the rescue of the centre and rear. There were originally ten ships under Dumanoir's command, but five of them, after they came round, broke away, and edged off to leeward towards where Admiral Gravina (the Spanish Commander-in-Chief, now left by Villeneuve's surrender the senior officer on the enemy's side) was rallyingsome of the rear ships to try and escape into Cadiz. What befell these does not concern us.
Dumanoir's remnant of five (four French ships and one Spaniard) stood along a little to windward of the ships engaged as far as where theTémérairelay, making it appear as though they were coming down to attack. 'At 3,' says theTéméraire'slog, 'observed five of the enemy in good order, starboard side. Sent the men from the quarter-deck guns to assist on the other decks. TheSiriusmade sail from us, when four of the enemy's ships opened their fire on our starboard side; having but few guns clear of the prizes, cut them loose.' 'While they were about three-quarters of a mile to windward,' says Captain Harvey describing what happened in his letter home, 'they opened their guns upon theTéméraireand her prizes, and for some time I could return no guns; but when those we could fight with were brought to bear upon the enemy, the gentlemen thought proper to haul to a more respectable distance, and thus towards evening with me ended this most glorious action.'[112]Dumanoir's fire did little harm to theTéméraireherself. It mortally wounded one of her midshipmen who was on board theRedoutable, and cut away theFougueux' main and mizen masts,—theFougueuxhad been cleared away from alongside theTémérairea few moments previously, and allowed to swing athwart theTéméraire'sstern, end-on to Dumanoir's ships as they passed by,—but that was practically all they did.
'Half-past 4,' says theTéméraire'slog, 'ceased firing.' TheTémérairehad now played her part. It only remained to house and secure the guns.
The battle was over—although near by there were still some three or four of the enemy who had not yet gone through the formality of lowering their ensigns. They were feebly firing, though they could neither fight nor fly. All could see that the inevitable end could hardly be long deferred. The knife was already at the throats of the last of the destined victims of the day. TheTéméraire'slast gun, as a fact, went at the same instant that Nelson, in the cockpit of theVictory, breathed his last.
Three-quarters of an hour later all resistance on the part of the enemy had ceased, and there was a silence on the sea. Trafalgar had been fought and won. Seventeen of the enemy had surrendered—eight French ships and nine Spaniards. One French ship, in addition, was on fire and her crew were being rescued by the boats of the nearest British ships. The remainder of the enemy had run out of the battle and were in full flight, some in one direction, some in another.
The scene all round at that moment, as it appeared from theTéméraire, was one that the last survivor of Trafalgar could hardly have forgotten to his dying day—
Nobly, nobly, Cape Saint Vincent to the north-west died away,Sunset ran, one glorious blood-red, reeking into Cadiz Bay,Bluish 'mid the burning water, full in face, Trafalgar lay.
Cape Trafalgar was sighted from off the deck, we are told, just as the battle was ending, and was made at about eight miles off. On either hand lay ships with shattered bulwarks and hulls gashed all over and riddled from the water-line upwards with gaping and splintered shot-holes, the yellow strakes between the ports seared and scorched by the back-blast from the guns and crusted over with half-burned powder. Some also had several of their ports knocked into one, or their port-lids unhung or wrenched away; others had their figure-heads clean gone, and their bowsprits smashed off short; others, in addition, had their stern and quarter galleries beaten in; and there were ugly smears and stains down the sides ofall where the scuppers opened overboard. No fewer than nine ships were lying entirely dismantled—'ras comme des pontons,' as a Frenchman put it. In these everything on deck above the bulwarks was gone, shorn roughly off—rigging, spars, masts—everything. A short stump, only a few feet high, remained in one or two of the ships to show where a tall mast had that morning stood—that was all. All else had disappeared—smashed down, shot by the board and lying over the sides amid the tangled confusion of broken spars, torn rigging, and ragged sails. Eight of the dismasted ships were trophies of the battle, French or Spanish prizes—theBucentaureand theSantisima Trinidadamong them. The ninth was a British ship, the cruelly batteredBelleisle, which had undergone a terrific mauling. The burning ship was the FrenchAchille, which lay not far off—a mass of flames from end to end. She had been set on fire by accident in the last hour of the battle, and was now blazing fiercely from stem to stern, sending off heavy volumes of dense black smoke into the clear evening air, as the hapless vessel lay burning to the water's edge, or until the flames should reach the magazine. Over yonder a group of British ships, several with topmasts and yards gone, were closing on a big three-decker that had only her foremast left standing, Collingwood'sRoyal Sovereign. Nearer,the battered ships of Nelson's column formed another group, collecting round theVictory. Far to the north-west, towards Cadiz, could be seen the sails of eleven ships that were escaping with Gravina. Among these fugitives was theTéméraire'sfirst antagonist, the FrenchNeptune, which, by carefully avoiding every attempt to bring her to close action, had got through the battle with a loss of only 13 men killed and 37 wounded. Black dots against the western sky, now ablaze in all the wild glory of a stormy October sunset, Dumanoir's flying ships could be seen—four in number—standing away into the Atlantic. The fifth ship of the group, the SpanishNeptuno, had been cut off and taken as the battle closed by the BritishMinotaurandSpartiate.
All the while during the final scene Nelson's flag remained flying at theVictory'smast-head—although the Admiral had for nearly an hour now been lying dead. Those on board were, perhaps, loth to lower it before they must. In accordance with one of the old fighting instructions of the navy, the commander-in-chief's ship in action kept her Admiral's flag flying in all circumstances until the battle was over, whatever might have happened to the Admiral meantime. Whether he was disabled or whether he was killed, the flag must still fly to the end of the action in its accustomedplace. As a fact, at Trafalgar, Flag-Captain Hardy of theVictoryhad had the entire handling of the British fleet from the moment that Nelson was struck down until the last shot had been fired. His descendants treasure to this day the silver pencil-case that Hardy 'used to write down signals during the battle of Trafalgar,with the marks of his teeth on it made in moments of excitement!' It was shown at the Naval Exhibition at Chelsea in 1891, one newspaper speaking of it as 'something like a relic!' Nelson's flag flew till sunset, and, in consequence, except theVictoryand theRoyal Sovereign, to which Captain Hardy, of course, had sent the news specially, and Captain Blackwood'sEuryalus, barely half a dozen ships of the fleet were aware of Nelson's death that night; or even that he had been wounded. In theTéméraireherself the news was not known, owing to the dispersal of the fleet caused by the stormy weather of the three following days, until the 24th, when Captain Harvey first learnt what had happened by a casual signal from theDefiance.
This is what was said on the spot of the way theTémérairehad done her work. 'I congratulate you most sincerely,' wrote Collingwood to Captain Harvey, on the 28th of October, 'on the noble and distinguished part theTémérairetook in the battle; nothing could be finer; I have not words in which I can sufficiently express myadmiration of it.'[113]This from a man so temperate in his language as Collingwood was at all times was indeed high praise.
Her day's work at Trafalgar cost theTémérairein casualties exactly 123 killed and wounded; or as Captain Harvey put it: 'Killed, 47; badly wounded, 31; slightly wounded, 45—in all, 123.' Captain Busigny and Lieutenant Kingston of the Marines, one midshipman (John Pitts) and Mr Oades, the carpenter, were the officers killed; one lieutenant of the Royal Navy, the surviving lieutenant of Marines, a master's-mate and a midshipman, with theTéméraire'sboatswain, were the officers wounded. Forty-three more of theTéméraire'smen were drowned on board theFougueuxand theRedoutable, in the storm after the battle.
As everybody knows, all Nelson's Trafalgar prizes except four perished in the storm after the battle, or were set on fire or scuttled. Whose fault it was, or how it came about that Nelson's dying order to anchor immediately the battle was over, which would probably have preserved all the prizes, was set aside, we need not discuss. Both theTéméraire'sprizes were among the ships that were lost—theFougueuxbeing wrecked a few miles south of Cadiz and theRedoutablefoundering in deep water. TheRedoutablefoundered duringthe night of the 22nd, carrying down with her 13 of theTéméraire'smen. She was in tow of theSwiftsure, which had relieved theTéméraireof her, when, about five on the previous afternoon, she made signals of distress. The straining of the dismasted hull as it pitched and rolled in the heavy seas had reopened the shot-holes below the water-line and the ship was filling. TheSwiftsurehove-to and lowered her boats, which in two trips brought off safely many of the prisoners and the wounded, and part of theTéméraire'sprize crew. Then, however, the attempt had to be given up. 'The weather was so bad and the sea so high,' that, in the words of theSwiftsure'slog, 'it was impossible for the boats to pass.' They were still, though, keeping theRedoutablein tow, hoping she might live out the night, when, at half-past ten, all of a sudden, the prize foundered by the stern. The sinking was so sudden at the last that theSwiftsure'smen had no time to cast loose the tow-rope and had to chop it in two with axes. During the night a few of theRedoutable'smen were picked up floating on rafts that they had made, but upwards of 190 hapless fellows went down in the ship.
TheTéméraireherself had a bad time of it in the storm. All Tuesday, the 22nd, theSiriuskept her in tow, but it was so rough that little could be done on board towards refitting the ship orattempting to rig jury-masts or repair damages. On the 23rd theSiriuswas called off by signal to recover prizes adrift which the sortie that the refugee ships in Cadiz attempted that day was threatening. TheAfricawas told off to take theTémérairein tow, but the storm came on worse than ever during the afternoon, and theAfrica, whose badly damaged masts were threatening to roll over the side every minute, could do nothing but stand by. 'The state of theTéméraireis so bad,' wrote Captain Harvey, that night, 'that we have been in constant apprehension of our lives, every sail and yard having been destroyed, and nothing but the lower masts left standing, the rudder-head almost shot off and is since gone, and lower masts all shot through and through in many places.'
TheTéméraire, however, managed to come through all safely, and she again held her own by herself throughout the 24th and all the next day. Unaided, she brought up in the end in safety off San Lucar, at the mouth of the Guadalquivir some 25 miles north of Cadiz, at seven on the morning of the 25th. Here the men stopped shot-holes above water, cleared away wreckage and completed the knotting and splicing of the damaged rigging and cleaning up of the ship, and got up jury-masts and lower yards:—five days' hard work. On the 30th of October, theDefiancetook theTémérairein tow for Gibraltar, where the ship let go anchor onthe afternoon of the 2nd of November, twelve days after Trafalgar.
At Gibraltar theTémérairewas patched up and refitted sufficiently to enable her to proceed to England under sail. TheVictoryhad arrived four days before, and was lying at anchor with Nelson's flag and her ensign at half-mast, as were the other ships of the fleet, upwards of a dozen, that had as yet come in. Four days afterwards theEuryalus, from which Admiral Collingwood had removed into theQueen, sailed for England, carrying on board Collingwood's completed Trafalgar despatch,[114]the captured French and Spanish ensigns (to be hung up in St. Paul's and left there to perish through neglect), and Admiral Villeneuve himself, going to meet his doom. Within six months the hapless French Admiral was dead—by his own hand. The story, so long believed in England, that Admiral Villeneuve's death was another foul murder to be charged against Napoleon has every probability against it. Paroled on his arrival at Spithead, and exchanged on the usual terms, Villeneuve had landed at Morlaix in Brittany, and was on his way to report himself in Paris, when one evening a sealed letter from the Minister of Marine was handed to him. Next morning he was found inhis bedroom at the inn where he had put up, stabbed to the heart. A letter taking leave of his wife was found in the room. He was buried that night without any honours.
VILLENEUVE'S SIGNATURE
Poor Villeneuve! It was a pitiful and hapless closing to a career that had opened with such bright promise for a certain younggarde de la Marineon the quarter-deck of De Suffren'sHéros[115]; a sad, unworthy ending for one in whose veins ran the blood of eight-and-twenty knights of St. Louis, St. Esprit, and St. Michel; for one who in his own right was of the highest of the oldnoblesseof Royal France, for a member of a House that had given one of the most famous of Grand Masters to the Order, and a Saint and ten Bishops to the Church.[116]Poor Villeneuve!—where moulders his unhappy dust? The summer visitor from England, at the price of a cheap ticket, may see where the poor remains of the vanquished of Trafalgar rest to-day—if, that is, he can find the place. Beneath no storied monument is it, among his country's greater dead; not in the vault of the Villeneuves where his high-born kinsmen sleep:—not there. In a forgotten spot in the old burial-ground at distant Rennes, a Provençal he among stranger Bretons, the most luckless of his line lies there in a suicide's desolate grave. And it is all the more pitiful too, when one thinks of our own Trafalgar chiefs laid to their rest together in honour in St. Paul's. Side by side in the vaulted crypt beneath the Cathedral dome rest our three Trafalgar admirals in honour evermore. Brothers-in-arms in life, like brothers in death they lie; till, pealing out on land and sea, the dread Archangel's trump shall sound their final call to quarters. Poor Villeneuve! What a contrast!
THETÉMÉRAIREENTERING PORTSMOUTH HARBOUR ON HER RETURN FROM TRAFALGAR.Dec. 20, 1805
TheTémérairefollowed theEuryalusto England some days later. She brought on board, like the other returning ships, three hundred French prisoners, together with, as her special passenger. Captain Infernet of the FrenchIntrépide. She arrived at Spithead on the 5th of December, the day after theVictory, with Nelson's remains on board, had anchored at St. Helens, and on the 20th of December went up Portsmouth Harbour to go intodock. It so chanced that an artist, John Christian Schetky, afterwards marine painter to King George the Fourth, William the Fourth, and Queen Victoria, was at Portsmouth on the day theTémérairecame in, cheered to the echo on all sides by crowds on the Platform and Point batteries and by every boat and ship that she passed. Sketchbook in hand Mr. Schetky made good use of his opportunity.
Captain Harvey arrived in England to find himself a Rear-Admiral, one of the officers specially promoted in honour of Trafalgar, included in the promotion caused by the creation of the rank of Admiral of the Red. He handed over theTéméraireto Acting-Captain Larmour who, six weeks later, paid the ship off for a refit and repair in Portsmouth dockyard which lasted several months. Admiral Harvey was one of the pall-bearers at Nelson's funeral. When in January 1815 he became a K.C.B. he was granted as a special motto above his crest, the nameTéméraire, together with as supporters to the Harvey family arms,—a triton with a laurel-wreathed trident, and a sea-horse with a naval crown inscribed 'Trafalgar,' bearing underneath all as an additional motto the legendRedoutable et Fougueux.
How for six years after Trafalgar theTémérairedid her duty before the enemy, at one time helping to keep Marshal Soult out of Cadiz, at anothertaking her part in holding in check the powerful new fleet that Napoleon created in Toulon to avenge Trafalgar on some future day that never came—all that is another story. Her last shotted guns were fired to silence a French battery in Hyères Bay, near the entrance to Toulon harbour, which rashly opened fire on theTéméraireone day. TheTéméraireclosed with the battery and gave the French gunners one tremendous broadside that practically cleared the battery out. Not a shot came from it again. The war story of theTéméraireends six months later with her final paying off at Plymouth.
There only remained for theTéméraire, after that, to complete her allotted span and await the striking of the inevitable hour.
For age will rust the brightest blade,And time will break the stoutest bow;Was never wight so starkly made,But age and time will bring him low.
She outlasted, indeed, her old captain at Trafalgar. In 1836, six years after Sir Eliab Harvey had been gathered to his fathers, his old ship entered on her last turn of duty, harbour service at Sheerness as Guardship of Ordinary, Captain-Superintendent's ship for the Fleet Reserve in the Medway. By an interesting coincidence, the officer who last of all hoisted his pennant on boardthe 'Fighting'Témérairewas the man who had been her first lieutenant at Trafalgar, now a grey-headed old post-captain, holding his last appointment before retiring from the Service as Captain-Superintendent of Sheerness dockyard, Captain Thomas Fortescue Kennedy. Actually the last guns that were ever fired on board the 'Fighting'Témérairewere for the Royal Salute in honour of Queen Victoria's Coronation Day. Six weeks after that, on the 16th of August 1838, theTémérairewas put up for auction and sold for £5530 to Mr. Beatson, the Rotherhithe shipbreaker. She was sold out of the Navy 'all standing,' with her masts and yards still in her, just as her guard-ship crew left the vessel, as Turner saw her and has faithfully painted her: a fact, also, that explains what has puzzled many critics of the famous picture, the removal to be broken up of a man-of-war rigged and masted and with yards across.
So we come, at length, to theTéméraire'sfinal hour and her appointed end.
Her deck, once red with heroes' blood,Where knelt the vanquished foe,When winds were hurrying o'er the floodAnd waves were white below;No more shall feel the victor's tread,Nor know the conquered knee—The harpies of the shore shall pluckThe eagle of the sea.
All the way up the river on her last day, we are told, theTémérairewas cheered as she passed along by the crews of the merchant ships and the people on board the river steamboats 'surprised as well as delighted by the novel spectacle of a 98-gun ship in the Pool,'[117]while after they had begun to break theTéméraireup at Rotherhithe numbers of people came to visit 'the ship that helped to avenge Nelson at Trafalgar,' attracted by reports of the finding of Trafalgar relics on board. One of these was a round-shot, found deeply embedded in the centre of one of theTéméraire'smain-deck beams with a French sailor's red cap, which had evidently been used as an improvised wad in the hurry of the fighting, stuck fast to it. Another was the brass memorial tablet (already spoken of), let into the quarter-deck near the wheel, and bearing the inscription, 'England expects that every man will do his duty.'[118]
Two gigantic figures, quarter-gallery decorations, taken from theTéméraireduring her breaking up, are still in existence, preserved by the successors to the firm at whose hands the old ship met her fate.[119]Any one, also, who cares tomake a pilgrimage among the byways of riverside London on the south side, may come across a church within a stone's-throw of where the final scene in theTéméraire'scareer was enacted—St. Paul's, Globe Street, Rotherhithe—in which the altar, altar rails, and sanctuary chairs are all made of heart-of-oak carved from the frame timbers of the 'Fighting'Téméraire.
RELICS OF THE 'FIGHTING'TÉMÉRAIRETwo quarter-gallery figures now in the possession of Messrs. H. Castle & Sons, Millbank.
So the story reaches its close. It can hardly end better than with the eloquent passage in which Mr. Ruskin has delivered what is, in intent, the funeral oration at the passing of the 'Fighting'Téméraire.[120]
'This particular ship, crowned in the Trafalgar hour of trial with chief victory, prevailing over the fatal vessel that had given Nelson death—surely, if anything without a soul deserved honour or affection, we owed them here. Those sails that strained so full bent into the battle, that broad bow that struck the surf aside, enlarging silently in steadfast haste, full front to the shot, resistless and without reply, those triple ports whose choirs of flame rang forth in their courses into the fierce revenging monotone, which, when it died away, left no answering voice to rise any more upon the sea against the strength of England—those sides that were wet with the long runlets of English life-blood, like press planks at vintage, gleaminggoodly crimson down to the cast and clash of the washing foam—those pale masts that stayed themselves up against the war-ruin, shaking out their ensigns through the thunder, till sail and ensign drooped—steeped in the death-stilled pause of Andalusian air, burning with its witness-clouds of human souls at rest—surely for these some sacred care might have been left in our thoughts, some quiet space amidst the lapse of English waters? Nay, not so, we have stern keepers to trust her glory to—the fire and the worm. Never more shall sunset lay golden robe on her, nor starlight tremble on the waves that part at her gliding. Perhaps, where the low gate opens to some cottage garden, the tired traveller may ask idly why the moss grows so green on its rugged wood, and even the sailor's child may not answer, nor know, that the night dew lies deep in the war-rents of the wood of the oldTéméraire.'
There's a far bell ringingAt the setting of the sunAnd a phantom voice is singingOf the great days done.There's a far bell ringing,And a phantom voice is singingOf renown for ever clingingTo the great days done.
ALEXANDRIA—July 11, 1882. THECONDORATTACKING FORT MARABOUT