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'I have their hearts now' - Admiral Nelson going aboard HMS Victory, by Maarten Platje (1967-)

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Close-up of Vice-Admiral Horatio Nelson’s uniform he was wearing when he was hit by a bullet from a French sniper from the Redoubtable. Battle of Trafalgar 1805

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Preserving Lord Nelson

Yes, ok, I know it’s not a classic age of sail topic, but I’ve been asked this several times and I’m also very interested in it myself, so I thought I’d shed some light on what exactly happened to Nelson after the Battle of Trafalgar. Yes we all know he died but what exactly was done and how was he brought back home. - little warning it is about preparing a body, so anyone who has a problem with that should not read any further -

After his death on 21 October 1805, Captain Hardy captain of HMS Victory, Nelson’s flagship, was faced with a major problem. Nelson and he were friends and Nelson is said to have asked him not to bury him at sea, he wanted to be buried at home. Now he and his superior Admiral Collingwood agreed that Nelson, a great naval hero, should be brought back to England, but the question was how.

The Death of Lord Nelson in the Cockpit of the Ship ‘Victory’, by Benjamin West 1808 (x)

First of all, HMS Victory was in a bad state after the battle. Therefore she had to be brought to Gibraltar to be repaired so that she could sail home. But until then, something had to happen to the body, and it was not possible to lay him in his hammock and wait. So, together with surgeon Sir William Beatty, it was decided to put him in a leaguer. A cask that was 1.5 m high and could hold 836 litres. But instead of water, it was filled with high-proof alcohol. Nelsons was completely undressed, his head shaved and the hair later given to Lady Hamilton, then he was folded so that his head and feet looked down and the brandy poured over it. No it was not rum as the legend has it, it was the collected brandy that the officers had in their stores. The barrel was then guarded by a marine who stood in front of it around the clock.

The cask was then put under the charge of a Marine sentry on the Middle Deck. It stood on its end, having a closed aperture at its top and another below. In that way the old brandy could be drawn off and new brandy poured in, without disturbing the body. (‘William Beatty, M.D., The Death of Lord Nelson, Constable, Westminster, 2nd edition, 1895, p. 58.)

However, during the night the fleet was caught in a storm that hit them all hard. Nelson was shaken up quite a bit, but all in all he survived it quite well and Victory was brought into port. Beatty now reported:

On the 24th there was a disengagement of air from the body, to such a degree that the sentinel became alarmed on seeing the head of the cask raised. The spirit was drawn off at once, and the cask filled again, before the arrival of the Victory at Gibraltar on October 28th, where spirit of wine was procured; and the cask, showing a deficit produced by the body’s absorbing a considerable quantity of the Brandy, was then filled up with it. (‘William Beatty, M.D., The Death of Lord Nelson, Constable, Westminster, 2nd edition, 1895, p. 59.)

On 4 November HMS Victory sailed from Gibraltar, bound for Portsmouth. The voyage home took just over a month, during which time the spirits in the leaguer were changed twice. Finally, around 14 December, Beatty removed the body, and took out Nelson’s bowles, which would have decayed faster than the rest of the body. The remains were wrapped in cotton, and then swathed in bandages. Finally the body was placed in a lead-lined coffin, filled with brandy mixed with camphor and myrrh (desinfection and fragrance). Nelson’s body was taken to Greenwich, where it lay in state. On 9 January 1806 his body was solemnly buried in St Paul’s Cathedral.

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Nelson's Cocked Hat, c. 1801

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Battle off Cape St. Vincent, 14th February 1797 by William Adolphus Knell (1802-1875)

Spain’s obligation to declare war on England and attack it with its fleet resulted from the Treaty of Alliance of San Ildefonso with France of 18 August 1796. Spain declared war on England in October 1796 and made the British position in the Mediterranean untenable. The combined Franco-Spanish fleet of 38 ships of the line greatly outnumbered the British Mediterranean fleet of 15 ships of the line and forced the latter to abandon their positions on Corsica and Elba. In the spring of 1797, the Spanish fleet with 27 ships of the line lay in Cartagena with the intention of continuing to Cadiz and then joining the French fleet at Brest. The Spanish fleet under Don José de Córdoba left Cartagena on 1 February and would probably have reached Cadiz safely if the Levante, an easterly wind, had not driven the fleet further out into the Atlantic than planned. When the wind died down, the fleet resumed its course for Cadiz.

Meanwhile, the British Mediterranean fleet under Admiral John Jervis left the port of Lisbon with 10 ships of the line to intercept the Spanish fleet. On 6 February 1797, another five ships of the line from the Channel Fleet under Rear Admiral William Parker reinforced the British squadron.

The Battle of Cape St Vincent, 14 February 1797, by Robert Cleveley (1747–1809) (x)

By dawn on 14 February 1797, the British fleet was in attack position. Admiral Jervis realised that his fleet was outnumbered by the Spanish. However, it would have been difficult to withdraw at this point. Moreover, Jervis knew that a union of the Spanish and French fleets would be even more dangerous. To the British’s advantage, the Spanish were not yet ready to attack. Their fleet was still divided into two groups, while the British ships were already in lined-up battle formation. Jervis decided to sail between the two groups to minimise enemy fire and to be able to fire on both sides himself. While passing between the two groups, the larger group was able to turn and move off in almost the opposite direction, while the smaller group was in a similar position. Jervis ordered his ships to turn to intercept the larger group before they could reach Cadiz.

Nelson was at the rear of the British fleet on his ship, the Captain, and was closest to the large group of Spanish ships. He concluded that the manoeuvre ordered would not allow the British ships to catch up with the Spanish. He ignored the order, sheered out of the formation and turned earlier so that he could reach the group more quickly. This brought him directly in front of the Spanish ships. When Jervis saw the captain’s manoeuvre, he ordered his last ship, the Excellent, to do the same. At the same time, the first ships of the formation had completed their manoeuvre and were within firing range of the Spanish ships.

Battle of Cape St.Vincent, 14 February 1797, by Sir William Allan  c.1850 (x)

The Captain was now exposed to fire from six Spanish ships, three of which were three-deckers with 122 guns and Córdoba’s flagship, the Santissima Trinidad, with 130 guns. So much of the rigging on the Captain was soon destroyed that she was almost unable to manoeuvre. Nelson then steered close to the San Nicolás to board the enemy ship. Meanwhile, on the Excellent, Captain Collingwood attacked the 112-gun San José, which was already so close to the San Nicolás that Nelson ordered his crew to board the second Spanish ship over the first. Both ships were boarded. This manoeuvre was so unusual and admired in the Royal Navy that it was soon referred to as “Nelson’s patented bridge for boarding an enemy ship”.

Nelson Boarding the San Josef at the Battle of Cape St Vincent, 14 February 1797, by George Jones (x)

The Spanish were eventually able to break away, ending the battle. Jervis transferred to the Irresistible - on which Nelson now found himself, now that the Captain was no longer able to manoeuvre - and paid tribute to Nelson’s refusal to obey orders. He pointed out that the manoeuvre would have been suicidal had the Spaniards been better trained.

The next day, the Spaniards were sighted again. They retreated as the British set course for them. A few days later, the damaged Santissima Trinidad was sighted on her way to Spain and attacked by the frigate Terpsichore. But she managed to escape.

Nelson receiving the surrender of the San Nicolas, 14 February 1797, by Richard Westall 1806 (x)

The British counted 73 dead, 227 seriously wounded and 100 lightly wounded. The Spanish had about 1,000 wounded or dead. The Spanish ships of the line Salvador del Mundo, San José, San Nicolás and San Ysidro were laid up.

Jervis was elevated to Earl of St Vincent and became First Lord of the Admiralty. Nelson was ennobled as Knight Companion of the Bath and promoted to Rear Admiral. Cordoba was discharged from the Spanish Navy and was no longer allowed to appear at the Royal Court.

After proving that the capabilities of his fleet were superior to the Spanish fleet, Jervis ordered a blockade off Cadiz Bay to keep the Spanish there. The blockade was maintained for three years and successfully limited the Spanish fleet’s ability to act until the Peace of Amiens in 1802. The containment of the Spanish threat and the increase in his fleet strength enabled Jervis to send a squadron under Nelson to the Mediterranean the following year. This squadron, including Saumarez’s Orion, Troubridge’s Culloden, Ball’s Alexander and the Goliath under Thomas Foley, restored the Royal Navy’s supremacy in the Mediterranean at the naval battle of Abukir.

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First Shots, by Geoff Hunt (1948-)

12:20, the first ranging shots were fired from the French flagship, the Bucentaure, at Nelson’s 100-gun flagship Victory at the Battle of Trafalgar, 1805

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‘It was felt in England as something more than a public calamity. Men started at the intelligence and turned pale, as if they had heard of the loss of a dear friend. An object of our admiration and affection, of our pride and of our hopes, was suddenly taken from us, and it seemed as if we had never, till then, known how deeply we loved and referenced him’

-Robert Southey, Life of Nelson, 1813

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Nelson Forcing the Passage of the Sound, 30 March 1801, Prior to the Battle of Copenhagen, by Robert Dodd (1748–1815)

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The Battle of Trafalgar, 21 October 1805. Towards 2:30 pm, 2005, by William H. Bishop (1942-)

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imprvdente​:

“Figures,” she grumbled, buttoning up her shirt, her back still turned, “ya’ can’t stay still for one damn minute.” Her scowling would have been more legitimate if she wasn’t guilty of the exact same thing. In his place, there was no doubt she would have tried to sneak out to look where her fleet was. 

But because of his restlessness, her secret was out in the open! And to be honest, it was the main reason she was so upset. Not only did she feel utterly mortified to have been seen like that, but she felt guilty too. It wasn’t that she wanted to lie to him! But this secret had been protecting her for so long… She didn’t even know where to start.

She stayed with her back turned for a minute longer than needed. “I’m decent,” she finally muttered, turning towards Horatio again. At least now she was covered. 

“Oh god don’t call me madam,” she grimaced, tucking her shirt into her pants, “I’m still me. I’ve never been a lady, and I ain’t gonna be one now.” She didn’t want things to change! She didn’t want Horatio to treat her differently, just because now he knew she was a woman. 

But what could she say? How could she explain? 

With a sigh, she fell back into her chair. “I started hidin’ I was a girl when I was just a lass, when I boarded on this ship. The old Captain, he wasn’t keen on having a girl on board, and he just… made me lie about it.”

Thoughts raced through his mind, trying to pick out moments or clues that he had missed that would have told him her secret sooner. He could think of none, either she had been extremely good at hiding her secret until now or he was simply unable to tell the difference. With the confirmation she was decent again, Nelson took his hand away from his eye but spent a moment with his back to her still. Steeling himself and working out if he could turn and look at that familiar face again without second guessing everything. 

He turned as she scolded him for calling her madam, watching her fall into her chair, moving to perch himself on the cot again, also feeling guilty for first not noticing and second actually noticing. What a terrible thing to have happened, a young girl turning up on a ship and being told to hide. It made sense though he supposed, perhaps the Captain had been protecting her but for what he had known and experienced of the other man, it was not likely to have been the motivation. 

“If...” would what he was about to say be any consolation? How did one deal with this situation normally? He knew and had plenty of proof that Fish was just as if not more than capable than a man. She was and had always been worthy of respect. “I did not notice until tonight, I would never have known the difference if it were not for this umm accident.” He thought for a moment nervously fidgeting at the blanket under him, wanting to say more and bracing himself up to say it!

“On several occasions you have given me cause to be greatly impressed by your ideas and your skills, Captain Fish. However I think I shall have to look upon those past exploits with fresh eyes and find myself all the more impressed that such grand feats were pulled off all the while disguising yourself as a man.” He smiled and while he remained utterly exhausted he hoped his words came across as he intended them to, “You are truly very extraordinary.”

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imprvdente​:

So far, the Admiral had been nothing but sincere, and so, Fish trusted him. If he said he wouldn’t lash her for eating or sleeping, she had no reason to think he was lying to her. After all, he’d been so nice! And helpful! 

“Thank you, mister Horatio,” she said, and if she was still looking at the floor, she did sound relieved to know she wouldn’t have to fear any punishment aboard this ship. Fish wasn’t sure if she’d get used to it, if she’d even manage to just ask for food. She was so used to fending for herself! But she also did not want to upset a man who had been so generous to her.

She nodded when he offered to tie the towel for her.

Once her chest was safely covered by the towel, she did as the doctor told her, and removed her shirt and jacket. Then, she had to removed the cloth of fabric she kept tight around her chest. She was still mostly spared by the troubles of puberty, but had still found it safer to protect her secret the best she could. Finally, her back was left bare, revealing plenty of nasty, red streaks cutting through the flesh. 

She was a little bit embarrassed! In her eyes, all of these markings were nothing but the proof that she was a no-good troublemaker, as she had heard most of her life. She hoped Admiral Horatio was not going to change his mind, when he’d see how turbulent she was. 

He thought it likely she would be staying in the great cabin, if not on the bench seat at the back of the room then perhaps he would give up his cot until he could think of an alternative or have the carpenter install hammock hooks for her. “You are most welcome,” he answered her thanks and tied the towel with her permission. He and Beatty looked over her back once the bandages were off, Nelson wincing a little while Fish could not see him. Such pain she must have gone through! Oh he loathed the lash. How it was she could remain so cheery he did not know but was determined to never let her falter from it while she was in his care. He moved to sit with Fish, just to the side of the table so she could see him and he was out of Beatty’s way. 

“I am going to have to wash your wounds, it will feel a bit cold and may sting,” warned Beatty as he picked up the rag and soaked it in the fresh water, sparing another glance at Nelson as he did so before returning to get to work. 

“Now, remember our wager?” Nelson asked Fish with a cocked eyebrow and a half playful grin, he knew this would not be comfortable for her, “which of us is worse for wiggling, hmm?” Either way she would win of course but he hoped the reminder would serve its purpose. Stay as still as she can. “Though if it hurts too much you must speak up, a wound in the back is different to one in the side after all and we should have a fair competition.”

Beatty pulled the rag from the water and placed his warm hand on Fish’ shoulder, a warning he was about to work before he rung the rag in his other hand and let the water trickle down her back, washing away the fresh blood and some of the older scabs and inevitable stray pieces of dirt and dust that came from being on a ship. 

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fitzjxmes​:

The uncomfortable feeling could be felt all around the pair. Fitzjames glanced over his shoulder during Nelson’s rant and saw both of their men watching at the exhibit. Nelson’s men had a bigger sense of unease, whilst his and Francis’ were more amused. If they were going to bring in one of France’s most important figures in history, everyone was possibly expecting a recreation of Trafalgar. 

He couldn’t help but let out a long sigh. Good thing he was only going to be as tall as everyone else here. Fitzjames wasn’t interested in getting into war, if you could call it that, but he could understand Nelson’s point. However, when you’re just a miniature replica of a man who has long since died, then you need to learn to be your own person. Otherwise you just become a victim of imposture syndrome. 

“Low,” the Captain said honestly. “He’ll be displayed just like the rest of us. But, some advice Sir. We’re not in our respected decades anymore. We need to live in the now, not the 1800s.”

Nelson still did not take his eyes from the sign, disappointed that Napoleon was going to be placed inside their corner of the museum, it made sense but he had been hoping maybe they could have limited him to just a little plastic display or perhaps a cartoon video playing on repeat. He did not at all like the idea of sharing the space with the other man. 

“I understand that now,” he clarified, frustrated and indeed upset at the situation. “But it took me a few days. You must understand that this will almost be personal...” an imitation he might have been but one that still strongly felt the emotions of the man he was modelled after and if he felt that way, then this model of Napoleon surely would too. Maybe he should check the floor plans again and warn The Duke of Wellington. “I fear it will be a turbulent first week.” or longer, Napoleon was a stubborn and determined man and a troublingly efficient tactician and leader... like himself he supposed. 

Just how many of Boney’s soldiers were there going to be in his exhibit? He was already outnumbered in his own exhibit, though the enemies there had since settled who was to say that Napoleon’s arrival would not spur them back to war. “What if they had put Ibrahim Pasha next door to you?” How would he feel?

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The Admiral’s Daughter . a moodboard for @admiraltyspride

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imprvdente​:

“There’s no need to apologize father,” she assured Horatio, offering him a tender smile as he organised his paper on his desk; which she could only assume he was doing to hide the sadness in his eyes. “I miss Horatia too. But she will remember you, of course she will. I have a feeling you’re hard to forget.” Her smile had gotten more amused now, though her kindness was genuine.

“A drink would be perfect.” She went to sit in front of her father, on one of the elegant chairs standing there. “But only if you drink with me. And we can talk about the green fields, and the coldness, and everything you want.” She wondered if life would always be a heartbreak. Missing home while sailing on the ocean, and missing the ocean when sitting home. Oh, why were sailors doomed to adoring things that could not cohabit together. 

But Horatio was right: in all their sorrow, they were luckier than most. She would never have to pick between the sea and her father.

Her words made hiding the tears that bit harder for her kindness, though he did sputter a little laugh that he was hard to forget. Horatia had pictures of him at least, that would have to serve as reminders for the time being. “I am quite certain she misses you too,” he had delighted at how well the pair seemed to get along, “I know she looks up to you and fondly.” Would Horatia come to sea too?! 

With the confirmation Nelson went to collect the decanter, there were glasses already on the table that would do, hardly needed to be formal between family. “I would like and appreciate that very much,” he said, finally turning to look at her properly as he set the port on the table to take the crystal topper off, now quite used to using only one hand. Mainly for his stubbornness around accepting any help should he need it he remained fiercely independent. 

“I am sure we can pull each other out of melancholy,” the crew continued their singing on the other side of the door, moved on from Liverpool’s Lament thankfully to something a little more upbeat, though Nelson had managed to tune them out to turn all of his attention onto Fish. He poured out her glass first and then his own before sitting with her. “What do you miss most of home, England or otherwise?” For ‘home’ had a different definition to sailors after all and Fish had indeed come from elsewhere too. 

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The Devil's Belt was certainly no place for a novice sailor. Ben at least had some claim to previous sailing experience but with the war going on at the same time and to be at the mercy of the currents and shoals, it was going to be particularly dangerous, especially around Hell's Gate. Oblivious of course to Ben's very capable and wild guide for those waters. "The Devil's Belt can overwhelm most able sailors, Major. Perhaps instead you might take the word of an old hand and try the North Cove of Saybrook Point as a more welcoming bay." Connecticut, undoubtedly safer for Ben so long as the pirates were indeed on their side. A clue that the navy were indeed keeping their charts up to date for the surrounding waters.

He did manage a little huff of a laugh at the preference of Ben's company of animals. He supposed he agreed, having a companion who could listen without comment or judgement could be most reassuring at times. "I imagine such a companionship is a lifeline, as a cavalry man you must be close to your steed." He spoke to his ships often, usually to tell them off or to worry over them but somehow that seemed more absurd to admit than talking with a living, breathing companion.

Still, Nelson had given Ben the space and what privacy could be afforded in the hold to think on his lost brother. Truly it seemed the man was reeling from his death still, which was only natural. He thought of his siblings he was most likely the one to be lost and he wondered if they would kick up the same fuss for him as Ben was doing for Samuel, somehow he doubted it.

Glad of the confirmation of the offer being enough, Nelson let out a little sigh of relief. "I thank you for your kind considerations, Sir," he was sure to acknowledge, kind indeed for an enemy to consider that he would have to take his men many miles away and into a hostile environment for who knew how long. "It is refreshing to know that there can and should always be some humanity in such circumstances." Although he doubted very much he would not be written up for feeding the starving enemy... would it be so harmful to let them break bread aboard? No, his crew would not sit for that sort of radicalism just yet. Nelson put the lid back on the barrel, knocking it back into place with that same iron bar he had used to open it.

"Right then lads, we will have to get this up to the lower..." ah layman's terms and he made sure to turn to Ben, "up to the deck above before we can use the pulleys. If three of your men can help Mr Hardy with the barrel, and the rest for the crates we shall be up in no time at all?" There was no access otherwise in the hold but the space to move the barrels was wide and accommodating on the ladders at least for that very reason. It would not be a big logistical operation, one barrel and a few crates was hardly demanding thankfully.

The deck above was lit up with natural sunlight as the cargo doors were opened for the two decks above and a system already waiting to take the supplies up to the main deck. Nelson had clearly wanted this part of their deal done quickly, not wanting Ben and his men below deck for longer than necessary for security and he privately worried for their safety too.

The thought of having a pastime during war, no matter how simplistic, was a little jarring after so many months – nay, years – of total focus. Although many of his men opted for levity, Ben, himself, chose pragmatism and responsibility. With a disbelieving smile, he agreed, “You might turn me into a sailor yet, Captain. Though of course you’re right…were I to attempt sailing in the Devil’s Belt, for instance, I’d assuredly get overthrown or worse.” His friend Caleb was notorious for weaving in and out of those precarious waters, but he didn’t dare follow in his footsteps.

The deeper they stepped into the ship’s hold, the more suffocating the air became. Ben’s lungs felt tight, thin, and closing his eyes a moment, he tried to shut out the choppy sound of waves rolling against the wooden siding.

Once Nelson spoke again, Ben cracked an eye open and spared him a sidelong glance. “It’s my favored form of transportation,” he agreed. “Perhaps I am blessed after all, since in addition to traveling in comfort, I also have a wordless companion. Sometimes, animals are the very best for that sort – you talk, and they listen.” But then, perhaps that sounded absurd. Oftentimes, bleakness and despair brought him to spill his guts to those who couldn’t speak back – most likely because he didn’t truly wish to have anyone analyze what he, himself knew to be a debilitating plight. He didn’t want insight shone upon his heart and soul.

The group came to a stop, and despite the less than welcoming surroundings, Nelson maintained his amenable exterior.

The words about Samuel drew a lump to his throat, and smiling, Ben softly agreed, “He was the best of men – far more than I could ever hope to be.”

Nelson ushered him forward, and once the captain lifted the barrel, the unpleasant stench of preserved meat wafted in the air; yet to those who were starving and malnourished, it smelled heavenly. And despite the fact this was assuredly a fair trade, Ben couldn’t help but feel a stab of guilt. He hated taking from anyone, even the enemy; and most especially a fair and unexpectedly kind foe.

Looking up at Nelson with a quick little nod, he agreed, “Yes – thank you, sir, this seems beyond sufficient for our trade. My men are reasonable, so I know they will not demand more. You and your own, after all, will be trapped onboard this vessel for the foreseeable future without the convenience of land bartering.” Or pillaging, in some cases – he’d certainly heard the horror stories.

[admiraltyspride]

Nelson as Captain having to hide on his ship because he was being pedantic about trade laws (again) and a bounty was put out on him so he couldn’t go ashore and for a few months was just sat mumbling in a rage at his desk is quite hilarious to me.

However, turns out his being pedantic was of course right. He’s the definition of double down like an idiot and hope someone more powerful agrees. Of course he writes about how angry he is that after all that and the danger he was actually in… credit for the correction went to his commander and Nelson was not even a foot note.

How this man continued to serve and get passed over time and time again and not go full rouge always amazes me.

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imprvdente​:

Another happy giggle left her lips when Horatio bowed down, as if she was a very fancy lady. She supposed she looked fancier now than before. There was still a wild little air in her face and her bright blue hair, but she was clean, fed and well dressed. The dress was comfortable too, the softest fabric she’d ever felt!

“I love the dress,” she assured the admiral, unconsciously smoothing down the puffy skirt, as if she was worried she could have somehow crumpled it, in the five minutes she had been wearing it.

At the admiral’s question, she couldn’t help but look at her feet, eyebrows knitted together. It was true that the matter of what was going to happen to her had remained somewhat undetermined. She didn’t want to leave this house, she didn’t want to go to an orphanage. Nelson was so nice to her, and his wife too.

But she also did not want to be a burden. 

“If it’s… not too much trouble…” she croaked, eyes still planted on the ground, “I’d like to stay.” 

While he was indeed smiling for her reaction to the dress her hesitation in her answer to his question felt like it had stopped his heart while he waited. What would he do if she did not wish to stay with them? He did not want her taken to an orphanage, maybe he could enrol her in a boarding school one day but he did not yet have the funds for such an expense. 

Then came the answer he had indeed been wanting to hear, that smile returning, delighted as he moved to lean on his knees and take her hand in his very gently. “I am very honoured,” he said very happily, “and so pleased that is your decision.”  

So she would have a safe home with Fanny and Nelson could return home when his leave permitted to see them. Would she be happy in Bath? As lovely and curious a city as it was, it was no tropical island and what adventures there were to be had certainly did not involve the unknown, danger nor the draw of the sea. 

“Maybe tomorrow Fanny may take you to the ladies bath house for you to enjoy the spring waters. I have attended the healing waters myself in the past and perhaps they will help to heal up what pain remains for the wounds at your back?” Maybe she would enjoy the spa life that Bath had to offer and he need not worry about her growing bored ashore, unfortunately for him he knew all too well the pull of the sea and found being ashore for more than a few months intolerable. “You might find the city life most enjoyable here.”