by Thomas Hardy
Sets their old wood on fire.
NELSON
Ay, rotten as peat.
What's that? I think she has struck, or pretty nigh!
[A cracking of musketry.]
HARDY
Not yet.—Those small-arm men there, in her tops,
Thin our crew fearfully. Now, too, our guns
Have dipped full down, or they would rake
The "Temeraire" there on the other side.
NELSON
True.—While you deal good measure out to these,
Keep slapping at those giants over here—
The "Trinidad," I mean, and the "Bucentaure,"
To win'ard—swelling up so pompously.
HARDY
I'll see no slackness shall be shown that way.
[They part and go in their respective directions. Gunners, naked
to the waist and reeking with sweat, are now in swift action on
the several decks, and firemen carry buckets of water hither and
thither. The killed and wounded thicken around, and are being
lifted and examined by the surgeons. NELSON and HARDY meet again.]
NELSON
Bid still the firemen bring more bucketfuls,
And dash the water into each new hole
Our guns have gouged in the "Redoubtable,"
Or we shall all be set ablaze together.
HARDY
Let me once more advise, entreat, my lord,
That you do not expose yourself so clearly.
Those fellows in the mizzen-top up there
Are peppering round you quite perceptibly.
NELSON
Now, Hardy, don't offend me. They can't aim;
They only set their own rent sails on fire.—
But if they could, I would not hide a button
To save ten lives like mine. I have no cause
To prize it, I assure 'ee.—Ah, look there,
One of the women hit,—and badly, too.
Poor wench! Let some one shift her quickly down.
HARDY
My lord, each humblest sojourner on the seas,
Dock-labourer, lame longshore-man, bowed bargee,
Sees it as policy to shield his life
For those dependent on him. Much more, then,
Should one upon whose priceless presence here
Such issues hang, so many strivers lean,
Use average circumspection at an hour
So critical for us all.
NELSON
Ay, ay. Yes, yes;
I know your meaning, Hardy,; and I know
That you disguise as frigid policy
What really is your honest love of me.
But, faith, I have had my day. My work's nigh done;
I serve all interests best by chancing it
Here with the commonest.—Ah, their heavy guns
Are silenced every one! Thank God for that.
HARDY
'Tis so. They only use their small arms now.
[He goes to larboard to see what is progressing on that side
between his ship and the "Santisima Trinidad."]
OFFICER [to seaman]
Swab down these stairs. The mess of blood about
Makes 'em so slippery that one's like to fall
In carrying the wounded men below.
[While CAPTAIN HARDY is still a little way off, LORD NELSON turns
to walk aft, when a ball from one of the muskets in the mizzen-
top of the "Redoubtable" enters his left shoulder. He falls upon
his face on the deck. HARDY looks round, and sees what has
happened.]
HARDY [hastily]
Ah—what I feared, and strove to hide I feared!...
[He goes towards NELSON, who in the meantime has been lifted by
SERGEANT-MAJOR SECKER and two seamen.]
NELSON
Hardy, I think they've done for me at last!
HARDY
I hope not!
NELSON
Yes. My backbone is shot through.
I have not long to live.
[The men proceed to carry him below.]
Those tiller ropes
They've torn away, get instantly repaired!
[At sight of him borne along wounded there is great agitation
among the crew.]
Cover my face. There will be no good be done
By drawing their attention off to me.
Bear me along, good fellows; I am but one
Among the many darkened here to-day!
[He is carried on to the cockpit over the crowd of dead and
wounded.]
Doctor, I'm gone. I am waste o' time to you.
HARDY [remaining behind]
Hills, go to Collingwood and let him know
That we've no Admiral here.
[He passes on.]
A LIEUTENANT
Now quick and pick him off who did the deed—
That white-bloused man there in the mizzen-top.
POLLARD, a midshipman [shooting]
No sooner said than done. A pretty aim!
[The Frenchman falls dead upon the poop.
The spectacle seems now to become enveloped in smoke, and the
point of view changes.]
SCENE III
THE SAME. ON BOARD THE "BUCENTAURE"
[The bowsprit of the French Admiral's ship is stuck fast in the
stern-gallery of the "Santisima Trinidad," the starboard side of
the "Bucentaure" being shattered by shots from two English three-
deckers which are pounding her on that hand. The poop is also
reduced to ruin by two other English ships that are attacking
her from behind.
On the quarter-deck are ADMIRAL VILLENEUVE, the FLAG-CAPTAIN
MAGENDIE, LIEUTENANTS DAUDIGNON, FOURNIER, and others, anxiously
occupied. The whole crew is in desperate action of battle and
stumbling among the dead and dying, who have fallen too rapidly
to be carried below.]
VILLENEUVE
We shall be crushed if matters go on thus.—
Direct the "Trinidad" to let her drive,
That this foul tangle may be loosened clear!
DAUDIGNON
It has been tried, sir; but she cannot move.
VILLENEUVE
Then signal to the "Hero" that she strive
Once more to drop this way.
MAGENDIE
We may make signs,
But in the thickened air what signal's marked?—
'Tis done, however.
VILLENEUVE
The "Redoubtable"
And "Victory" there,—they grip in dying throes!
Something's amiss on board the English ship.
Surely the Admiral's fallen?
A PETTY OFFICER
Sir, they say
That he was shot some hour, or half, ago.—
With dandyism raised to godlike pitch
He stalked the deck in all his jewellery,
And so was hit.
MAGENDIE
Then Fortune shows her face!
We have scotched England in dispatching him. [He watches.]
Yes! He commands no more; and Lucas, joying,
Has taken steps to board. Look, spars are laid,
And his best men are mounting at his heels.
VILLENEUVE
Ah, God—he is too late! Whence came the hurl
Of heavy grape? The smoke prevents my seeing
But at brief whiles.—The boarding band has fallen,
Fallen almost to a man.—'Twas well assayed!
MAGENDIE
That's from their "Temeraire," whose vicious broadside
Has cleared poor Lucas' decks.
VILLENEUVE
And Lucas, too.
I see him no more there. His red planks show
Three hundred de
ad if one. Now for ourselves!
[Four of the English three-deckers have gradually closed round
the "Bucentaure," whose bowsprit still sticks fast in the gallery
of the "Santisima Trinidad." A broadside comes from one of the
English, resulting in worse havoc on the "Bucentaure." The main
and mizzen masts of the latter fall, and the boats are beaten to
pieces. A raking fire of musketry follows from the attacking
ships, to which the "Bucentaure" heroically continues still to
keep up a reply.
CAPTAIN MAGENDIE falls wounded. His place is taken by LIEUTENANT
DAUDIGNON.]
VILLENEUVE
Now that the fume has lessened, code my biddance
Upon our only mast, and tell the van
At once to wear, and come into the fire.
[Aside] If it be true that, as HE sneers, success
Demands of me but cool audacity,
To-day shall leave him nothing to desire!
[Musketry continues. DAUDIGNON falls. He is removed, his post
being taken by LIEUTENANT FOURNIER. Another crash comes, and
the deck is suddenly encumbered with rigging.]
FOURNIER
There goes our foremast! How for signalling now?
VILLENEUVE
To try that longer, Fournier, is in vain
Upon this haggard, scorched, and ravaged hulk,
Her decks all reeking with such gory shows,
Her starboard side in rents, her stern nigh gone!
How does she keep afloat?—
"Bucentaure," O lucky good old ship!
My part in you is played. Ay—I must go;
I must tempt Fate elsewhere,—if but a boat
Can bear me through this wreckage to the van.
FOURNIER
Our boats are stove in, or as full of holes
As the cook's skimmer, from their cursed balls!
[Musketry. VILLENEUVE'S Head-of-Staff, DE PRIGNY, falls wounded,
and many additional men. VILLENEUVE glances troublously from
ship to ship of his fleet.]
VILLENEUVE
How hideous are the waves, so pure this dawn!—
Red-frothed; and friends and foes all mixed therein.—
Can we in some way hail the "Trinidad"
And get a boat from her?
[They attempt to distract the attention of the "Santisima
Trinidad" by shouting.]
Impossible;
Amid the loud combustion of this strife
As well try holloing to the antipodes!...
So here I am. The bliss of Nelson's end
Will not be mine; his full refulgent eve
Becomes my midnight! Well; the fleets shall see
That I can yield my cause with dignity.
[The "Bucentaure" strikes her flag. A boat then puts off from the
English ship "Conqueror," and VILLENEUVE, having surrendered his
sword, is taken out from the "Bucentaure." But being unable to
regain her own ship, the boat is picked up by the "Mars," and
the French admiral is received aboard her. Point of view changes.]
SCENE IV
THE SAME. THE COCKPIT OF THE "VICTORY"
[A din of trampling and dragging overhead, which is accompanied
by a continuos ground-bass roar from the guns of the warring
fleets, culminating at times in loud concussions. The wounded
are lying around in rows for treatment, some groaning, some
silently dying, some dead. The gloomy atmosphere of the low-
beamed deck is pervaded by a thick haze of smoke, powdered wood,
and other dust, and is heavy with the fumes of gunpowder and
candle-grease, the odour of drugs and cordials, and the smell
from abdominal wounds.
NELSON, his face now pinched and wan with suffering, is lying
undressed in a midshipman's berth, dimly lit by a lantern. DR.
BEATTY, DR. MAGRATH, the Rev. DR. SCOTT the Chaplain, BURKE the
Purser, the Steward, and a few others stand around.]
MAGRATH [in a low voice]
Poor Ram, and poor Tom Whipple, have just gone..
BEATTY
There was no hope for them.
NELSON [brokenly]
Who have just died?
BEATTY
Two who were badly hit by now, my lord;
Lieutenant Ram and Mr. Whipple.
NELSON
Ah!
So many lives—in such a glorious cause....
I join them soon, soon, soon!—O where is Hardy?
Will nobody bring Hardy to me—none?
He must be killed, too. Surely Hardy's dead?
A MIDSHIPMAN
He's coming soon, my lord. The constant call
On his full heed of this most mortal fight
Keeps him from hastening hither as he would.
NELSON
I'll wait, I'll wait. I should have thought of it.
[Presently HARDY comes down. NELSON and he grasp hands.]
Hardy, how goes the day with us and England?
HARDY
Well; very well, thank God for't, my dear lord.
Villeneuve their Admiral has this moment struck,
And put himself aboard the "Conqueror."
Some fourteen of their first-rates, or about,
Thus far we've got. The said "Bucentaure" chief:
The "Santa Ana," the "Redoubtable,"
The "Fougueux," the "Santisima Trinidad,"
"San Augustino, "San Francisco," "Aigle";
And our old "Swiftsure," too, we've grappled back,
To every seaman's joy. But now their van
Has tacked to bear round on the "Victory"
And crush her by sheer weight of wood and brass:
Three of our best I am therefore calling up,
And make no doubt of worsting theirs, and France.
NELSON
That's well. I swore for twenty.—But it's well.
HARDY
We'll have 'em yet! But without you, my lord,
We have to make slow plodding do the deeds
That sprung by inspiration ere you fell;
And on this ship the more particularly.
NELSON
No, Hardy.—Ever 'twas your settled fault
So modestly to whittle down your worth.
But I saw stuff in you which admirals need
When, taking thought, I chose the "Victory's" keel
To do my business with these braggarts in.
A business finished now, for me!—Good friend,
Slow shades are creeping me... I scarce see you.
HARDY
The smoke from ships upon our win'ard side,
And the dust raised by their worm-eaten hulks,
When our balls touch 'em, blind the eyes, in truth.
NELSON
No; it is not that dust; 'tis dust of death
That darkens me.
[A shock overhead. HARDY goes up. On or two other officers go up,
and by and by return.]
What was that extra noise?
OFFICER
The "Formidable' passed us by, my lord,
And thumped a stunning broadside into us.—
But, on their side, the "Hero's" captain's fallen;
The "Algeciras" has been boarded, too,
By Captain Tyler, and the captain shot:
Admiral Gravina desperately holds out;
They say he's lost an arm.
NELSON
And we, ourselves—
Who have we lost on board here? Nay, but tell me!
BEATTY
Besides poor Scott, my lord, and Charles Adair,
Lieutenant Ram, and Whipple, captain's clerk,
There's Smith, and Palmer, midshipmen, just killed.
And fifty odd of seamen and marines.
NELSON
Poor youngsters! Scarred old Nelson joins you soon.
BEATTY
And wounded: Bligh, lieutenant; Pasco, too,
and Reeves, and Peake, lieutenants of marines,
And Rivers, Westphall, Bulkeley, midshipmen,
With, of the crew, a hundred odd just now,
Unreckoning those late fallen not brought below.
BURKE
That fellow in the mizzen-top, my lord,
Who made it his affair to wing you thus,
We took good care to settle; and he fell
Like an old rook, smack from his perch, stone dead.
NELSON
'Twas not worth while!—He was, no doubt, a man
Who in simplicity and sheer good faith
Strove but to serve his country. Rest be to him!
And may his wife, his friends, his little ones,
If such be had, be tided through their loss,
And soothed amid the sorrow brought by me.
[HARDY re-enters.]
Who's that? Ah—here you come! How, Hardy, now?
HARDY
The Spanish Admiral's rumoured to be wounded,
We know not with what truth. But, be as 'twill,
He sheers away with all he could call round,
And some few frigates, straight to Cadiz port.
[A violent explosion is heard above the confused noises on deck.
A midshipman goes above and returns.]
MIDSHIPMAN [in the background]
It is the enemy's first-rate, the "Achille,"
Blown to a thousand atoms!—While on fire,
Before she burst, the captain's woman there,
Desperate for life, climbed from the gunroom port
Upon the rudder-chains; stripped herself stark,
And swam for the Pickle's boat. Our men in charge,
Seeing her great breasts bulging on the brine,
Sang out, "A mermaid 'tis, by God!"—then rowed
And hauled her in.—
BURKE
Such unbid sights obtrude
On death's dyed stage!
MIDSHIPMAN
Meantime the "Achille" fought on,
Even while the ship was blazing, knowing well
The fire must reach their powder; which it did.
The spot is covered now with floating men,
Some whole, the main in parts; arms, legs, trunks, heads,
Bobbing with tons of timber on the waves,
And splinter looped with entrails of the crew.
NELSON [rousing]
Our course will be to anchor. Let me know.
HARDY
But let me ask, my lord, as needs I must,
Seeing your state, and that our work's not done,
Shall I, from you, bid Admiral Collingwood
Take full on him the conduct of affairs?
NELSON [trying to raise himself]
Not while I live, I hope! No, Hardy; no.
