Chapter 9

Trafalgar

In May 1803, Britain had declared war on France and in May 1804, Napoleon Bonaparte had proclaimed himself Emperor of the French. An army was assembled at Boulogne which Revenge, on its first duty in the Channel, was deployed to oppose. Boulogne and other French embarkation ports received a great deal of investment to make it capable of holding up to 1,000 landing craft, but the realities of crossing the Channel in unwieldy rowed landing craft when the British Admiral Lord Leith had 218 ships at his disposal to intercept them made the invasion of England a pipe dream.

British tactics largely involved keeping the French blockaded in port. Nelson had kept a watch on Toulon in the south and there were at least sixteen ships deployed to watch Brest. Spain needed to be handled diplomatically and an eye was kept on El Ferrol where Revenge would drop in on her journey south. An ill-judged attack by British naval forces on a Spanish treasure fleet returning from the Americas, however, hastened what was almost inevitable. Spain declared war on Britain in December 1804 which gave Napoleon a strong hand of naval cards. The Spanish fleet was not only substantial, it was also well commanded and trained.

Emboldened, Napoleon hatched new plans which would help him achieve his ultimate goal: the invasion of England. His direct involvement in creating these plans was not welcomed by the French Navy who found themselves in receipt of orders and counter-orders. Although the French naval commander at Toulon, Admiral Villeneuve, protested, he did not have sufficient character to influence events. Eventually Villeneuve managed to slip out of Toulon and evade British watches at Gibraltar and Cadiz and, accompanied by the Spanish Cadiz squadron under Admiral Gravina, sailed for the West Indies. The plan was that they should join with the French forces at Martinique and return across the Atlantic to surprise the British and cover the invasion of England.

Hindered by limited communications, Nelson got wind of French movements late and set off in pursuit about a month later. As Nelson raced west across the Atlantic, the Admiralty ordered fourteen ships under Collingwood to set sail for Cadiz. Revenge was among them.

When Villeneuve heard that Nelson had arrived in the West Indies there was only one thought in his mind: to head back towards Europe. Having been a month behind, Nelson was now catching up. He was now only two days behind Villeneuve as he set off in pursuit of the French. When he became aware that Villeneuve and Gravina were heading for El Ferrol, Nelson sent a brig with a message to that effect for the Admiralty in London and steered course for Gibraltar.

Although the French had succeeded in drawing Nelson away, they had not managed to weaken British defences in the Channel. Some of the credit for seeing through French intentions seems to be owed to Admiral Collingwood. Collingwood had noticed intelligence reports that showed Villeneuve’s force included a cavalry unit. He realized that such a unit could not be intended for use in the West Indies. He wrote to Alexander Carlyle:

I think it is not improbable that I shall have those fellows coming from the West Indies again, before the Hurricane months, unless they sail from thence directly for Ireland, which I have always had an idea was their plan, for this Bonaparte has as many tricks as a monkey. I believe their object in the West Indies to be less conquest, than to draw our force from home.¹

As they approached their destination, Villeneuve and Gravina ran into a squadron of fifteen British ships under Admiral Calder. There was an indeterminate scrap in bad weather and the next day Calder failed to renew the attack, leaving the allies to find refuge in Vigo. Some took the view that Calder would have done better to throw caution to the winds and launch a kamikaze action against the superior allied forces – anything to prevent their escape.

So what was the argument between Britain and France and why was Trafalgar so significant? Was it merely a question of trade and the spoils of empire?

It is certainly true that England and France were arch rivals but HMS Revenge had also fought with the Spanish and the Dutch. What was so special about this battle?

The Spanish Armada had threatened England and, if it had succeeded, would have imposed the Catholic faith on a defeated England. This, however, would have been no profound change, for England was a Christian country and had been Catholic for far longer than it had been Protestant. The arguments with the Dutch were largely mercantile and did not pose a major threat to the English body politic. The French Revolution had, however, brought about a political change that was at odds with the entire constitution and way of life of the English. For those who were interested in revolution in England, this was not such an issue but for all those who subscribed to the idea that English liberties were passed on from one generation to the next and presupposed a maintenance of liberties that had been won by previous generations, France and the French Revolution as embodied by Napoleon Bonaparte posed a fundamental threat.

English suspicion of the French Revolution was voiced most lucidly by Edmund Burke, for whom it was little less than a nightmare:

Out of the tomb of the murdered monarchy in France has arisen a vast, tremendous, unformed spectre, in a far more terrific guise than any which ever yet have overpowered the imagination, and subdued the fortitude of man. Going straight forward to its end, unappalled by peril, unchecked by remorse, despising all common maxims and all common means, that hideous phantom overpowered those who could not believe it was possible she could at all exist, except on the principles, which habit rather than nature had persuaded them were necessary to their own particular welfare, and to their own ordinary modes of action.²

The elements of this revolution that appalled Burke could be itemised as: ‘The spirit of total, radical innovation; the overthrow of all prescriptive rights; the confiscation of property; destruction of the Church, the nobility, the family, tradition, veneration, the ancestors, the nation – this is the catalogue of all that Burke dreaded in his darkest moments, and every item in it he would have discovered in Marxism.’³

Burke, however, was not a believer in monarchies growing fat while the poor crawled in the gutter. His instinct was to preserve the ‘revolution’ without an ‘r’, that had been the British way of achieving change and progress over the centuries. Only by evolution could they preserve the good that had been inherited from the past while contributing a measure of useful change to posterity. The ideas of the French Revolution incorporated the thinking of those such as Rousseau who stated that individuals should ‘be forced to be free’. As Napoleon gathered an army at Boulogne and waited impatiently for his navy to wipe out the English fleet, this was precisely his intention. The English would become free, their history erased in order to make a clean start under the forced freedom of the general will.

Despite the English Reformation and despite a civil war and other ups and downs, the English and the British had consistently maintained the principle of freedom of the individual, which Edmund Burke described as ‘an entailed inheritance derived to us from our forefathers, and to be transmitted to our posterity’.⁴ If there was any question as to where this concept of individual freedom derived from, it was from Christian principles which had formed the bedrock of the English law and constitution: ‘Christendom for long synonymous with Europe – with its recognition of the unique and spiritual nature of the individual, on that idea, we still base our belief in personal liberty and other human rights.’⁵

Despite the unpropitious movements of his fleet, Napoleon still awaited the moment when Villeneuve and his Spanish allies would arrive in the Channel to sweep away the British blockade of Brest and unleash a storm upon England.

Although his recent engagement with the British had proved inconclusive, Villeneuve was by now sufficiently nervous to choose to sail not northwards, where his Emperor eagerly awaited him in person at Boulogne, but south. In doing so, he narrowly avoided an even greater shock, for Nelson was still on his scent and sailing north to meet him. Weather conditions intervened, however, to keep the fleets apart, and the allies slipped into Cadiz where Collingwood and Revenge kept an eye on them.

By this time even Napoleon had to acknowledge that if the English were to be rescued from their perfidious ways and illusory liberties, it was not now. Habeas corpus, Magna Carta, the Common Law and the monarch in Parliament would all remain standing. The British had missed their opportunity to be forced to be free.

As German forces would do 135 years later, Napoleon turned his attention to the east, where there was an ominous tramp of marching feet heading in his direction, leaving the sceptred isle to shimmer tantalizingly in the setting sun. The battle at Trafalgar, therefore, would not be about saving England from the immediate threat of invasion so much as underlining British naval mastery for the next century or so and all that was consequent upon that mastery.

The naval focus was once again on Cadiz, though the French had received unwelcome orders from the supreme commander, this time relating to a campaign in Sicily. Nelson now joined Collingwood at Cadiz, and the French and Spanish watched for their opportunity to escape without having to do battle with the British. The arrival of English reinforcements, including the Revenge, made their chances appear increasingly slim.

Due to the long periods on station, some of Nelson’s ships were detached to Gibraltar to restock with essential provisions, including water. Villeneuve saw his chance and on 20 October the allies sailed out of Cadiz, hoping to reach the straits of Gibraltar before the English could catch up with them.

In order to tempt the enemy to make a move, Nelson had deliberately kept his main force at a distance, using frigates as his eyes and ears. Once he had news of the enemy movement, he set course to cut them off. In view of the relatively light winds, Villeneuve realized he would not reach the straits of Gibraltar by nightfall and made plans to return to Cadiz, but by now destiny had caught up with him.

Captain Lucas of the Redoutable described the complications in forming the line in the Combined Fleet as battle approached:

On the 28th Vendemiaire

An XIV (20th October, 1805) 1 the Combined Fleet got under sail to leave Cadiz Bay. The wind was southerly; light at first, afterwards fresh. The fleet comprised thirty-three sail of the Line, of which eighteen were French, fifteen Spanish; with five frigates and two brigs, French. We were hardly outside when the wind shifted to the south-west and came on to blow strong. The admiral then ordered the fleet to reef sail, which was done, though some of the Spanish ships were so slow over it that they fell considerably to leeward. Some time was lost by that, but at length all worked back again, and then the fleet stood on, in no regular formation, heading to the west-north-west. The Redoutable was next astern to the Bucentaure, and a short distance off, when, towards noon, the flagship suddenly signalled ‘Man overboard!’ I brought to at once, lowered a boat, picked the man up, and regained my station. West, and the fleet went about all together. As soon as that was done, the Bucentaure signalled for the battle-squadron to form in three columns on the starboard tack, flagships in the centre of their divisions. In this order of sailing the Redoutable, as leader (chef de file) of the first division, should have been at the head of her column, and I manoeuvred the ship to take that post. All the afternoon, however, was spent without the fleet being able to get into the formation designated, although the admiral kept signalling repeatedly to ships to take station.

Towards seven in the evening the wind went down a little; but the sea was still rough, with a swell setting in from the south-west. The fleet was now steering to the south-south-west. I signalled at this time to the admiral that I could make out a fleet or squadron of the enemy to windward. They did not, to me, seem very far off. The ships of this squadron, as the evening went on, made a great many signals, showing for their purpose quite a remarkable display of coloured fires.

About nine o’clock at night the flagship made the general signal to the fleet to form in the order of battle at once, without regard to the stations of individual ships. To carry out this evolution those ships most to leeward ought to have shown a light at each masthead, so as to mark their positions. Whether this was done I do not know: at any rate I was unable to see such lights. At that moment, indeed, we were all widely scattered. The ships of the battle squadron and those of the squadron of observation were all mixed up. Another cause of confusion was this. Nearly all the ships had answered the admiral’s signals with flares, which made it impossible to tell which was the flagship. All I could do was to follow the motions of other ships near me which were closing on some to leeward.

Towards eleven I discovered myself close to Admiral Gravina, who, with four or five ships, was beginning to form his own line of battle. I was challenged and our name demanded, whereupon the Spanish admiral ordered me to take post in his line. I asked leave to lead it and he assented, whereupon I stood into station. The wind was in direction and force as before, and we were all still on the starboard tack.

The whole fleet was at this time cleared for action, in accordance with orders signalled from the Bucentaure earlier in the night. In the Redoutable we had, however, cleared for action immediately after leaving Cadiz, and everything had been kept since in readiness to go to quarters instantly. With the certainty of a battle next day, I retained but few men on deck during the night. I sent the greater number of the officers and crew to lie down, so that they might be as fresh as possible for the approaching fight.⁶

Admiral Gravina himself was a skilled commander and seaman. He gave his own account of the preparations for battle aboard the Príncipe de Asturias:

On the morning of the 19th some of the French and Spanish set sail in obedience to the signal made by Admiral Villeneuve. In consequence, however, of the wind shifting to the S.E., we could not all succeed in doing so until the 20th, when the wind got round again to the E.S.E. Scarcely was the Combined Fleet clear of the harbour mouth, when the wind came to S.S.E., blowing so strongly, and with such a threatening appearance, that one of the first signals made by the Bucentaure, the flagship of Admiral Villeneuve, was to set double-reefed topsails. This change of wind also necessarily caused a considerable dispersal of the fleet, until two o’clock in the afternoon. Then, fortunately, the wind veered to the S.E., and the horizon becoming clear and unobscured, signal was made to form five columns, and afterwards for all to close. An advanced frigate signalled eighteen sail of the enemy in sight, in consequence of which news we cleared for Action, and sailed in fighting order. At three we all tacked and stood for the Straits, still preserving the same disposition of five Columns in which we had been before the last evolution. After having so done, we descried four of the Enemy’s Frigates, to which, by order of Admiral Villeneuve, we gave chase. Signal was made, at the same time, from our ship, for the Achille, Algeciras, and San Juan, attached to the ‘Squadron of Observation’, to reinforce the ships sent in chase. They had orders to rejoin the main body of the Fleet before nightfall. At half-past six o’clock a French ship informed us that they had made out eighteen of the enemy, all in line of battle; and shortly afterwards we ourselves began to observe, at no great distance, gleams of light. They could only be from the enemy’s frigates, which were stationed midway between the two fleets. At nine o’clock the English squadron made signals by firing guns, and, from the interval which elapsed between the flash and report, they must have been about two miles from us. We informed the French Admiral by signal-lanterns that it was expedient to lose no time in forming line of battle on the leeward ships, on which an order to that effect was immediately given by the Commander-in-Chief. In this situation we beheld the dawn of the 21st, with the Enemy in sight, consisting of twenty-eight Ships, eight of which were three-deckers all to windward of us, and in Line of Battle on the opposite tack.⁷

Nelson had made his main plan beforehand and he also had some fall-back plans in reserve. The tactic of attacking the enemy line at right angles in parallel columns was not new, but this time it had a devastating additional ingredient – the Nelson touch. The English sailors were not so interested in the viability of the tactics on paper, or the quality of their ships, as the fact that their beloved Nelson was leading them. His presence inspired every man with an indomitable spirit and there was no doubt whatsoever that they would do their duty.

Admiral Collingwood had transferred his flag from Dreadnought to the newly copper-sheathed Royal Sovereign. It was fitting for the style of this battle that both Admirals would lead from the front. Revenge was ninth in line in Collingwood’s column, which would be the first to bisect the enemy line. The reason for this was that Collingwood had been allocated most of the sleek and fast 74s, among which Revenge was one of the swiftest. All ships were under full sail and all had their full colours flying. Bands played patriotic tunes. England, recently threatened with invasion, had come to wreak her revenge.

The British Fleet

Victory – Admiral Lord Nelson; Captain Thomas Masterman Hardy

Temeraire – Captain Eliab Harvey

Neptune – Thomas Francis Fremantle

Leviathan – Henry William Bayntun

Conqueror – Israel Pellew

Britannia – Rear Admiral Rt Hon. Earl of Northesk; Captain Charles Bullen

Ajax – Lieutenant John Pilford

Agamemnon – Captain Sir Edward Berry

Orion – Captain Edward Codrington

Prince – Captain Richard Grindall

Minotaur – Captain Charles Moore Stanfield

Spartiate – Captain Sir Francis Laforey

Royal Sovereign – Admiral Collingwood; Captain Edward Rotheram

Belleisle – Captain William Hargood

Mars – Captain George Duff; Lieutenant William Hennah

Tonnant – Captain Charles Tyler

Bellerophon – Captain John Cooke; Lieutenant William Pryce Cumby

Colossus – Captain James Nicoll Morris

Achilles – Captain Richard King

Revenge – Captain Robert Moorsom

Defiance – Captain Philip Charles Durham

Dreadnought – Captain John Conn

Swiftsure – Captain William Gordon Rutherford

Polyphemus – Captain Robert Redmill

Thunderer – Lieutenant John Stockham

Defence – Captain George Hope

Africa – Captain Henry Digby

Euryalus – Captain Hon. Henry Blackwood

The Combined Fleet

Scipion – Captain Charles Bellanger

Intrépide – Captain Louis-Antoine-Cyprien Infernet

Formidable – Rear Admiral Pierre-Etienne René-Marie Dumanoir le Pelley; Captain Jean-Marie Letellier

Mont-Blanc – Captain Guillaume Jean-Noel Lavillegris

Duguay-Trouin – Captain Claude Toufflet

Heros – Captain Jean-Baptiste-Joseph-René Poulain

Bucentaure – Captain Jean-Jacques Magendie

Redoutable – Captain Jean Jacques Etienne Lucas

Neptune – Commodore Espirit Tranquille Maistral

Indomptable – Captain Jean Joseph Hubert

Fougueux – Captain Louis Alexis Baoudoin

Pluton – Commodore Julien-Marie Cosmao-Kerjulien

Algésiras – Rear Admiral Charles-René Magon de Medine; Captain Laurant Le Tourneur

L’Aigle – Captain Pierre-Paul Gourege

Swiftsure – Captain C.E. L’Hopitalier-Villemadrin

Argonaute – Captain Jacques Epron

Achille – Captain Louis Gabriel Denieport

Berwick – Captain Jean-Gilles Filhol-Carnas

Neptuno – Captain Don H. Cayetano Valdés y Flores

Rayo – Captain Don Enrique MacDonnell

San Francisco de Asís – Captain Don Luís de Flores

San Agustín – Captain Done Felipe Jado Cagigal

Nuestra Seãora de la Santíssima Trinidad – Rear Admiral Baltasar Hidalgo de Cisneros; Captain Francisco Javier de Uriarte y Borja

San Justo – Captain Don Francisco Javier Garstón

San Leandro – Captain Don José Quevedo

Santa Ana – Vice Admiral Ignacio Maria de Alava y Navarrete; ´ Captain Don José de Gardoquí

Bahama – Commodore Dionisio Alcalá Galiano

Montaãés – Captain Francisco Alcedo y Bustamente

Argonauta – Captain Don Antonio Parejo

San Ildefonso – Captain Don José Ramón de Vargas y Varaéz

Príncipe de Asturias – Admiral Don Federico Carlos Gravina; Rear Admiral Don Antonio de Escaão; Commodore Rafael de Hore

San Juan Nepomuceno – Commodore Don Cosmé Damian Churruca y Elorza

Monarcha – Captain Don Teodoro de Argumosa

Captain Lucas of the Redoutable recalled:

By nine o’clock the enemy had formed up in two columns. They were under all sail they even had studding sails out and heading directly for our fleet, before a light breeze from the west-southwest. Admiral Villeneuve, being of the opinion, apparently, that they were intending to make an attack on our rear, tacked the fleet all together. In this new order the Redoutable’s place was third ship astern of the flagship Bucentaure. I at once made every effort to take station in the wake of the flagship, leaving between her and myself the space necessary for my two immediate leaders. One of them was not very far out of its station, but the other showed no signs of trying to take post. That ship was at some distance to leeward of the line, which was now beginning to form ahead of the admiral.

Towards eleven o’clock the two columns of the enemy were drawing near us. One was led by a three-decker, the Royal Sovereign, and headed towards our present rear squadron. The other, led by the Victory and the Temeraire, was manoeuvring as if to attack our centre, the Corps de bataille.⁸

So fast was the Royal Sovereign that it pulled ahead of the rest of the line and Collingwood ordered his men to lie down as the first enemy shot began to fly over. Moorsom ordered the gunners on Revenge to hold their fire until they were more closely engaged and would give the signal himself by firing a carronade from the quarter deck. New and fast, Revenge began to pull ahead of some of the older ships in the column and in no time she was in the thick of it. At first she became entangled in the bows of a French ship of equivalent size, the 74-gun L’Aigle, but she managed to fire two broadsides into the French ship before breaking free. The next engagement was not such an equal one. This time her opponent was a ship much larger than herself – the Spanish flagship Príncipe de Asturias (112 guns), which ran her bowsprit over the poop deck of Revenge with the intention of boarding her. This dire threat was defeated by skilful use of the carronades on the poop deck which were loaded with grapeshot and also by the skill at arms of the Revenge’s Royal Marines detachment. After this devastating response, the Spaniards thought better of it and sheered off to find easier prey, as William Robinson relates:

A Spanish three-decker ran her bowsprit over our poop, with a number of her crew on it and in her fore rigging. Two or three hundred men were ready to follow; but they caught a Tartar, for their design was discovered and our marines with their small arms, and the carronades on the poop, loaded with canister-shot, swept them off so fast that they were glad to sheer off.⁹

Revenge was then engaged by four more French ships but was unable to make any headway due to damage to mast and sails. As William Robinson wrote: ‘In this condition we lay by the side of the enemy, firing away, and now and then we received a good raking from them, passing under our stern. This was a busy time for us, for we had not only to endeavour to repair the damage, but to keep to our duty.’¹⁰

One cannot help at this point remembering the action of the first Revenge at the Azores against the Spanish ‘Twelve Apostles’. Here she was again, the indomitable Revenge, surrounded by no less than four enemy ships, not knowing the meaning of the word surrender. If there was a fight to be had, Revenge would fight it, whatever the damage she had sustained.

This same spirit was evident throughout the British fleet. Although British ships, and especially the first ones in each column, sustained considerable damage, they meted out two or three times what they received and the enemy were often sent reeling. The rate of fire was such that, as Robinson tells us: ‘as to hearing, the noise of the guns had so completely made us deaf, that we were obliged to look only to the motions that were made.’¹¹

The superb gunnery on the British ships inexorably wore down the enemy. Well-trained gun crews aided by advanced flintlock mechanisms fired at a greater rate than their opponents, and kept firing, no matter how seriously damaged the ship was. Captain Jean-Jacques Magendie of the Bucentaure noted afterwards:

From the nature of the attack that the enemy delivered there could not help resulting a pele-mele battle, and the series of ship-to-ship actions that ensued were fought out with the most noble devotion. The enemy had the advantage of us, owing to his powerful ships, seven of which were three-deckers, the smallest mounting 114 guns (sic), in weight of metal of his heavy guns and carronades; and in the smartness with which his ships were handled, due to three years’ experience at sea a form of training which, of course, had been impossible for the Combined Fleet.¹²

It was significant that the two most heavily damaged ships in the British fleet were the ones sailed by the two British admirals, Nelson and Collingwood. Royal Sovereign and Victory led their respective lines and both received the brunt of the initial enemy response. Victory was the most heavily damaged and sustained the most casualties, with fifty-seven dead, including Nelson himself, and 102 wounded. Collingwood’s Royal Sovereign was close behind with forty-seven dead and 100 wounded, including Collingwood himself, who received a gash in his leg.

This was the British way of battle, where officers led from the front and set an example that others might follow. A Spanish admiral later expressed his admiration for the habit of initiative displayed by the British, which contrasted with the somewhat hidebound attitude of the French and Spanish:

An Englishman enters a naval action with a firm conviction that his duty is to hurt his enemies, and help his friends and allies, without looking out for directions in the midst of the fight; and while he thus clears his mind of all subsidiary distractions, he rests in confidence on the certainty that his comrades, actuated by the same principles as himself, will be bound by the sacred and priceless law of mutual support. Accordingly, both he and all his fellows fix their minds on acting with zeal and judgment upon the spur of the moment, and with the certainty that they will not be deserted. Experience shows, on the contrary, that a Frenchman or a Spaniard, working under a system which leans to formality and strict order being maintained in battle, has no feeling for mutual support, and goes into action with hesitation, preoccupied with the anxiety of seeing or hearing the commander-in-chief’s signals for such and such manoeuvres … Thus they can never make up their minds to seize any favourable opportunity that may present itself. They are fettered by the strict rule to keep station, which is enforced upon them in both navies; and the usual result is that in one place ten of their ships may be firing upon four, while in another four of their comrades may be receiving the fire of ten of the enemy. Worst of all, they are denied the confidence inspired by mutual support, which is as surely maintained by the English as it is neglected by us.¹³

The criticism was a general truth but it did not apply to all French and Spanish officers. Some in particular were excellent, including Captain Lucas of the Redoutable, whose effective training regime for his men led to the death of Nelson.

The truth of the Spanish admiral’s opinion is probably best evidenced in Nelson’s own words: ‘That his Admirals and captains, knowing his precise object to be that of a close and decisive action, would supply any deficiency of signals, and act accordingly. In case signals cannot be seen or clearly understood, no captain can do wrong if he places his ship alongside that of an enemy.’¹⁴

Back on Revenge, they fought off their enemies with the aid of Dreadnought and Thunderer which had come to their assistance and set about repairing the significant damage sustained by the ship. Enough was done in the short term to allow her to tow a Spanish prize.

We were now enabled to get at some of the shot-holes between wind and water, and plug them up; this is a duty performed by the carpenter and his crew. We were now unable to work the ship, our yards, sails, and masts being disabled, and the braces completely shot away. In this condition we lay by the side of the enemy, firing away, and now and then we received a good raking from them, passing under our stern. This was a busy time with us, for we had not only to endeavour to repair our damage, but to keep to our duty. Often during the battle we could not see for the smoke, whether we were firing at foe or friend, and as to hearing, the noise of the guns had so completely made us deaf, that we were obliged to look only to the motions that were made. In this manner we continued the battle till nearly five o’clock, when it ceased.¹⁵

Following Admiral Collingwood’s orders, as many survivors, both friend and foe, were rescued as possible before they made their way to Gibraltar. One of these was a Frenchwoman, who caused something of a stir, as related by a lieutenant of the Revenge:

Towards the conclusion of the battle the French 80-gun ship Achille, after surrendering, caught fire on the booms. The poor fellows belonging to her, as the only chance of saving their lives, leaped overboard, having first stripped off their clothes, that they might be the better able to swim to any pieces of floating wreck or to the boats of the ships sent by those nearest at hand to their rescue. As the boats filled, they proceeded to the Pickle schooner, and, after discharging their freight into that vessel, returned for more. The schooner was soon crowded to excess, and, therefore, transferred the poor shivering wretches to any of the large ships near her. The Revenge, to which ship I belonged, received nearly a hundred of the number, some of whom had been picked up by our own boats. Many of them were badly wounded, and all naked. No time was lost for providing for the latter want, as the purser was ordered immediately to issue to each man a complete suit of clothes.

On the morning after the action I had charge of the deck, the other officers and crew being at breakfast, when another boat load of these poor prisoners of war came alongside, all of whom, with one exception, were in the costume of Adam. The exception I refer to was apparently a youth, but clothed in an old jacket and trousers, with a dingy handkerchief tied round the head, and exhibiting a face begrimed with smoke and dirt, without shoes, stockings, or shirt, and looking the picture of misery and despair. The appearance of this young person at once attracted my attention, and on asking some questions on the subject, I was answered that the prisoner was a woman. It was sufficient to know this, and I lost no time in introducing her to my messmates, as a female requiring their compassionate attention. The poor creature was almost famishing with hunger, having tasted nothing for four-and-twenty hours, consequently she required no persuasion to partake of the breakfast upon the table. I then gave her up my cabin, for by this time the bulk-head had been replaced, and made a collection of all the articles which could be procured to enable her to complete a more suitable wardrobe … altogether, our guest, which we unanimously voted her, appeared a very interesting young woman.

‘Jeannette’, which was the only name by which I ever knew her, thus related to me the circumstances. She said she was stationed during the action in the passage of the fore-magazine, to assist in handing up the powder, which employment lasted till the surrender of the ship. When the firing ceased, she ascended to the lower deck, and endeavoured to get up to the main deck, to search for her husband, but the ladders having been all removed, or shot away, she found this impracticable; and just at this time an alarm of fire spread through the ship, so that she could get no assistance. The fire originated upon the upper deck, and gradually burnt downwards. Her feelings upon this occasion cannot be described: but death from all quarters stared her in the face. The fire, which soon burnt fiercely, precluded the possibility of her escaping by moving from where she was, and no friendly counsellor was by with whom to advise. She remained wandering to and fro upon the lower deck, among the mangled corpses of the dying and the slain, until the guns from the main deck actually fell through the burnt planks. Her only refuge, then, was the sea, and the poor creature scrambled out of the gun-room port, and, by the help of the rudder chains, reached the back of the rudder, where she remained for some time, praying that the ship might blow up, and thus put a period to her misery. At length the lead which lined the rudder-trunk began to melt, and to fall upon her, and her only means of avoiding this was to leap overboard. Having, therefore, divested herself of her clothes, she soon found herself struggling with the waves, and providentially finding a piece of cork, she was enabled to escape from the burning mass. A man, shortly afterwards, swam near her, and, observing her distress, brought her a piece of plank, about six feet in length, which, being placed under her arms, supported her until a boat approached to her rescue …

Although placed in a position of unlooked-for comfort, Jeannette was scarcely less miserable; the fate of her husband was unknown to her … It was on about the fourth day of her sojourn that she came to me in the greatest possible ecstacy and told me that she had found her husband, who was on board among the prisoners, and unhurt. She soon afterwards brought him to me, and in the most grateful terms and manner returned her thanks for the attentions she had received … On leaving the ship, most, if not all of us, gave her a dollar, and she expressed her thanks as well as she was able, and assured us that the name of our ship would always be remembered by her with the warmest gratitude.¹⁶

William Robinson relates that on Revenge a popular member of the crew was saved from an untimely death while an unpopular midshipman met an untimely end. The first was the ship’s cobbler who, concussed in battle, was taken for dead and would have been thrown overboard if he had not started kicking at the last moment. He joked later that it was his dancing steps that saved him. The other was a tyrannical midshipman who enjoyed beating the men manning the guns and who was literally splattered against the sides by enemy grape shot.¹⁷

As Revenge towed its Spanish prize towards Gibraltar, it became clear that she was too badly damaged to make the voyage. English seamen went aboard to rescue as many of the Spanish crew as they could but some had to be left to their fate.

Having arrived at Gibraltar, Revenge received urgent repairs to make her seaworthy for the long voyage back to England and the men also had the opportunity to go on shore to celebrate the success and compare notes with crews of other ships. She then set sail for England, arriving at Spithead where crowds were waiting to cheer her in. The news of the battle had by now spread nationwide.