Tales from the Front Line: Trafalgar

By Peter Warwick

A history of 1805’s Battle of Trafalgar between the British Royal Navy and the joint forces of the French and Spanish navies.

Tales from the Front Line: Trafalgar offers a unique insight into the most significant naval battle in history, told through the accounts of those who were actually there. Here you will find original accounts from the great military leaders of the time—including Horatio Nelson and Napoleon—as well as the experiences of the ordinary seamen and civilian witnesses. This title is drawn from a variety of contemporary sources including letters, diaries, newspapers and ships’ logs.

Praise for Tales from the Front Line: Trafalgar

“For contemporary accounts, you cannot do better . . . Based almost entirely on the testimony of survivors from both sides, the book superbly recreates the hell of 19th Century naval warfare.” —The Mail on Sunday (UK)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Apr 1, 2012
• ISBN: 9781446355251

Book preview

INTRODUCTION

On Monday 21 October 1805, off Cape Trafalgar, Vice Admiral Lord Nelson, with 27 ships of the line, attacked the 33 ships of the combined French and Spanish fleets under the command of Vice Admiral Comte de Villeneuve. Firing started close to midday and by tea-time the most famous sea battle in British history was over. Napoleon’s fleet had been virtually annihilated with 17 ships captured. In round figures 50,000 had taken part. The British lost 450 men killed and 1,250 wounded, while the allies suffered more than 4,400 killed and 3,300 wounded. Many more were drowned during the storm that followed. The British had not lost a single ship, but their hero and most celebrated naval commander was dead.

The Battle of Trafalgar was the last major naval engagement of the Napoleonic Wars. While its consequences were not immediately apparent, the legacy was profound. Trafalgar undermined any future French invasion plans and paved the way for the downfall of Napoleon, fulfilling Prime Minister William Pitt’s claim on hearing the news that, ‘England has saved herself by her exertions and will I trust, save Europe by her example.’ Trafalgar also established Britain as the dominant global maritime power up until the Second World War, and ushered in a long period of economic prosperity and political authority that blossomed into the British Empire – the largest the world has ever known.

The enormous significance of Trafalgar, coupled with the death of Nelson at the moment of his greatest triumph, helps to explain the enduring interest in the battle. Rarely, after 200 years, has five hours of history been so closely studied, and had so much written about it. I hope in this bicentenary year this enduring fascination justifies a book that explores the first-hand experiences of the participants, ordinary sailors and officers alike.

Inevitably their accounts and perceptions are influenced by the chaotic nature of battle, the recipient of their stories – parent, wife, sibling, friend or senior officer – and by the effects of the passage of time on memories. We live in an age of immediate mass media, visual news coverage, live and recorded voices. In the case of Trafalgar contemporary letters, diaries, admiralty records, drawings and paintings are all we have to relive the immediacy of the battle. They are none the worse for that, given that whatever the media, being there is the only way anyone can truly experience war’s terrible and brutal reality.

Attempts to establish what actually happened at the battle and the sequence of events are fraught with complications. Writing a few days after the battle, one observer remarked, ‘the disorder and confusion which reigned throughout this fearful Battle, have rendered it almost impossible for the Commanders themselves to know what occurred on board their own Ships’.

In 1913 the British government commissioned a report to inquire into the tactics of Trafalgar. The expectation was that some elegant formula would explain the execution of Nelson’s plan. Although it contains relevant extracts from all available logs and journals of the British ships involved, it was an attempt made in vain. For instance, timekeeping in 1805 was not an exact science and combined with the inevitable distractions caused by the battle itself, ships’ logs can vary by more than two hours. The difficulties of signalling and ship identification brought about by the lingering dense smoke and damage to masts contribute to the confusion. Moreover, the eye-witness accounts themselves do not always agree with one another. Consequently, this book tries to capture the atmosphere of the battle, focusing on its main elements, rather than attempting a blow-by-blow analysis of the battle and the role of every ship involved in it. It is not an academic study.

To help identify the nationality of the ships involved in the battle the British appear in italicized upper case, eg. NEPTUNE, and the French and Spanish ships are shown in lower case italics, eg. Neptune. The bracketed number after the name indicates the number of guns and is included only the first time the ship is mentioned.

I have mixed selected parts of the most famous British, French and Spanish eye-witness stories with less well-known accounts, some appearing in print for the first time, such as ‘Reflections on Fortitude’ by Captain John Cooke. Inevitably there is more reference to Nelson than others present. He is central to the story. He shaped the battle. The success was his.

Nelson demonstrated that with bold tactics it was possible to annihilate an enemy fleet. After hundreds of years of naval conflict this was a relatively new experience. Almost all of the great battles fought by wooden sailing ships before the Battle of the Saintes in 1782 had proven to be inconclusive. Admiral Rodney secured a decisive victory at the Saintes, as did Admiral Howe at the Glorious First of June in 1794 and Admiral Duncan at the Battle of Camperdown in 1797. Nelson refined elements of their tactics, added innovations of his own, and infused with his personal chemistry and aggressive spirit delivered total victory. Naval warfare had been transformed.

This is a personal book. I have been interested in Trafalgar, Nelson and the eighteenth century for virtually the whole of my life. The spark was struck in March 1957 while reading of Nelson’s funeral in Eagle, the great boys’ comic. For this book I have drawn heavily on my own library and papers amassed over the past 40 years or so. However, a great number of people have contributed to the manuscript, many unwittingly: school teachers like John Jackson, friends at university, family, especially my father and uncle, and those whom I have met as a result of the Nelson Decade and through The 1805 Club. I am grateful to them all.

Others have had a much more direct influence on this book. I am indebted to my publisher for having the courage to commission yet another book on Trafalgar and for their guidance and kindness since the project started a year ago. In particular my thanks go to the commissioning editor, Ruth Binney, and to my dedicated researcher Mike Paterson, who has spent many hours on my behalf in the Caird Library at the National Maritime Museum, the Royal Naval Museum library, the Colindale Newspaper Library, the National Archives, and the London Library.

However, I would not have a publisher without the help of my dear friend Colin White. He both recommended me and encouraged me to write this book. I am eternally grateful to him and delighted that as one of the world’s authorities on Nelson he has done me the great honour of writing the foreword.

I am grateful for the help I have received with research, finding illustrations and reading and commenting on the manuscript. Captain Peter Hore was an inspiration, made his own research available and guided me to many valuable accounts of the battle; Tim Clayton, the accomplished author of Trafalgar: the Men, the Battle, the Storm, shared his insights with me. The following made valuable contributions: Matthew Sheldon at the Royal Naval Museum; Andrew Davies at the National Maritime Museum archive; Tony Gray and the Inshore Squadron (a marvellous group of naval historians who use computer technology to reconstruct historic naval engagements); Margaret Peacock and The Orlando Oldham Estate for the Cooke letters; Anthony Cross at Warwick Leadlay Gallery; Sim Comfort; Susan Conyers; Simon Gerratt; Géraldine Guibert; Agustin Guimerá; Liz and Ronnie Kopas; and Paul and Sally Birkbeck (for all those breakfasts!). I owe you all a considerable debt.

I should like to single out Dr Ian and Dr Pat Grimble. Without them this book would not have been written on time – it might not have been written at all! They offered their wonderful Devon home as an author’s retreat. Their friendship, advice and support were simply fantastic.

Finally, thanks to my son, Tom. His encouragement, patience and good humour has been a tonic throughout.

Introduction to the Revised Edition

During the past five years more letters and documents, previously unknown, have emerged. They provide more colour to the human aspects of the Battle of Trafalgar and extracts from some of them, such as the letter written by Surgeon’s Mate Robert Hilton, have been incorporated into the narrative. However, the most significant difference between this and the first edition is the account of Nelson’s last-minute actions, which created a massive feint attack by the Weather Column on the enemy’s van. This manoeuvre had been recorded at the time, but subsequent descriptions and analyses of the battle led to it being overlooked until its importance was revealed in 2005 at The Battle of Trafalgar Conference at Portsmouth in 2005, which I had the honour to organize. The credit for the revelation goes to both Michael Duffy and to Inshore Squadron, who have created a superb computer simulation of the battle. The feint, which Nelson used to compensate for the ten or so extra battleships he had written into his original Memorandum but had not joined his hurriedly put together fleet in time for the battle, crowns his exceptional achievement and the ‘Nelson Touch’. It helped to make the battle, according to a contemporary but anonymous Spanish account, the ‘most treacherous and bloody ever to be witnessed by the seas’.

1

‘WE HAVE GAINED A GREAT VICTORY!’

A thick blanket of sulphurous fog enveloped the centre of Georgian London. It was so dense that drivers were forced to alight from their carriages to literally feel for the road. Every ten or twenty yards they felt for the doors of houses in order to check where they were. The flames from their coach lamps were barely visible and people not at all, although their muffled shouts and helloing conveyed their anxieties. It was a frightful night and it took hours for those unfortunate enough to be out in it to travel even the shortest of distances.

Royal Navy Lieutenant John Richards Lapenotiere, a 35-year-old Devonian of Huguenot descent, had travelled far. He had sailed from the south-western tip of Spain in command of His Majesty’s Schooner PICKLE (10) and after landing at Falmouth had been driven by post chaise to London, covering a distance of 257 miles and changing horses 21 times along the way. Now, as he approached his journey’s end he, too, was slowed down by the impenetrable mist. His final destination was the Admiralty in Whitehall. The Falmouth correspondent of Trewman’s Exeter Flying Post recorded that on Monday 4 November the wind was southerly and that ‘The PICKLE Schooner arrived off harbour this day from which an officer landed and went off express for London with dispatches.’ It was now the first hour of 6 November 1805. The dispatch from Vice Admiral Cuthbert Collingwood contained momentous news.

William Marsden, the First Secretary to the Board of the Admiralty, had been working late that night at the huge boardroom table in the light of a few candles and was preparing to go to bed at 1 a.m. when the 35-year-old lieutenant arrived and stunned him with the news:

In accosting me, the officer used these impressive words, ‘Sir, we have gained a great victory, but we have lost Lord Nelson!’ The effect this produced, it is not my purpose to describe, nor had I time to indulge in reflections, who was at that moment the only person informed of one of the greatest events recorded in our history, and which it was my duty to make known with the utmost promptitude. The First Lord had retired to rest, as had his domestics, and it was not until after some research that I could discover the room in which he slept. Drawing aside his curtain, with a candle in my hand, I awoke the old peer [the greatly talented and indefatigable Admiral Lord Barham] from a sound slumber; and to the credit of his nerves be it mentioned, that he showed no symptom of alarm or surprise, but calmly asked: ‘What news, Mr. M.?’ We then discussed in few words, what was immediately to be done, and I sat up the remainder of the night, with such of the clerks as I could collect, in order to make the necessary communications.

The Second Secretary to the Board, Sir John Barrow, remembered the impact of the news when he arrived at the Admiralty, ‘Never can I forget the shock I received on opening the Boardroom door … when Marsden called out – ‘Glorious news! The most glorious victory our brave navy ever achieved – but Nelson is dead!’

The clerks made copies of Collingwood’s dispatch. One was quickly delivered to the Prime Minister, William Pitt, at 10 Downing Street and another messenger was sent to King George III at Windsor Castle. They were first published later the same day in a Gazette Extraordinary, a special edition of The London Gazette, the government’s official communiqué, which was normally published twice weekly. This was too late to catch The Times, which printed the dispatch on its front page the following day, although 3,000 copies were dispatched to the continent. For anyone with access to a newspaper these were the first official voices of the Battle of Trafalgar they would have seen. This is exactly how any member of the public would have read it on that day.

EURYALUS, off Cape Trafalgar, October 22, 1805

Sir,

The ever-to-be-lamented death of vice-Admiral Lord Viscount Nelson, who, in the late conflict with the enemy, fell in the hour of victory, leaves to me the duty of informing My Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, that on the 19th instant, it was communicated to the Commander-in-Chief, from the ships watching the motions of the enemy in Cadiz, that the Combined fleets had put to sea; as they sailed with light winds westerly, His Lordship concluded their destination was the Mediterranean, and immediately made all sail for the Straits’ entrance, with the British squadron, consisting of twenty seven ships, three of them sixty-fours, where His Lordship was informed by Captain Blackwood (whose vigilance in watching, and giving notice of the enemy’s movements, has been highly meritorious), that they had not yet passed the Straits.

On Monday 21st instant, at daylight when Cape Trafalgar bore E. by S. about seven leagues, the enemy was discovered six or seven miles to the eastward; the wind was west, and very light; the Commander-in-Chief immediately made the signal for the fleet to bear up in two columns, as they are formed in order of sailing; a mode of attack His Lordship had previously directed, to avoid the inconvenience and delay in forming a line of battle in the usual manner. The enemy’s line consisted of thirty-three ships (of which eighteen [in fact it was 17] were French, and fifteen [16] Spanish), commanded-in-chief by Admiral Villeneuve: the Spaniards, under the direction of Gravina, wore, with their heads to northwards, and formed their line of battle with great closeness and correctness; but as the mode of attack was unusual, so that, in leading down to their centre, I had both their van and rear abaft the beam; before the fire opened, every alternative ship was about a cable’s length to windward of her second ahead and astern, forming a kind of double line, and appeared, when on their beam, to leave a very little interval between them; and this without crowding their ships. Admiral Villeneuve was in the Bucentaure, in the centre, and the Principe de Asturias bore Gravina’s flag in the rear, but the French and Spanish ships were mixed without any apparent regard to order of national squadron.

As the mode of our attack had been previously determined on, and communicated to flag officers, and captains, few signals were necessary, and none were made, except to direct the close order as the lines bore down.

The Commander-in-Chief, in the VICTORY, led the weather column, and the ROYAL SOVEREIGN, which bore my flag, the lee.

The action began at twelve o’clock, by the leading ships of the columns breaking through the enemy’s line, the Commander-in-Chief about the tenth ship from the van, the Second-in-Command about the twelfth from the rear, leaving the van of the enemy unoccupied; the succeeding ships breaking through in all parts, astern of their leaders, and engaging the enemy at the muzzles of their guns; the conflict was severe; the enemy’s ships were fought with a gallantry highly honourable to their officers; but the attack on them was irresistible, and it pleased the Almighty Disposer of all events to grant His Majesty’s arms a complete and glorious victory. About three pm many of the enemy’s ships having struck their colours, their line gave way; Admiral Gravina, with ten ships joining their frigates to leeward stood towards Cadiz. The five headmost ships in their van tacked, and standing to the southward, to windward of the British line, were engaged and the sternmost of them taken; the others went off, leaving to His Majesty’s squadron nineteen ships of the line (of which two are first rates, the Santissima Trinidad and the Santa Ana), with three flag officers, viz. Admiral Villeneuve, the Commander-in-Chief, Don Ignatio Maria D’Alava, Vice-Admiral; and the Spanish Rear-Admiral, Don Baltazar Hidalgo Cisneros.

After such a victory it may appear unnecessary to enter into encomiums on the particular parts taken by the several commanders; the conclusion says more than I have language to express; the spirit which animated all in their country’s service, all deserve that their high merits should stand recorded; and never was high merit more conspicuous than in the battle I have described.

The Achille (a French 74), after having surrendered, by some mismanagement of the Frenchmen, took fire and blew up; two hundred of her men were saved by the tenders.

A circumstance occurred during the action, which so strongly marks the invincible spirit of British seamen, when engaging the enemies of their country, that I cannot resist the pleasure I have in making it known to Their Lordships; the TEMERAIRE was boarded by accident or design, by a French ship on one side, and a Spaniard on the other; the contest was vigorous, but, in the end, the combined ensigns were torn from the poop, and the British hoisted in their places.

Such a battle could not be fought without sustaining a great loss of men. I have not only to lament, in common with the British navy, and the British Nation, in the fall of the Commander-in-Chief, the loss of a hero, whose name will be immortal, and his memory ever dear to his country; but my heart is rent with the most poignant grief for the death of a friend, to whom, by many years intimacy, and a perfect knowledge of the virtues of his mind, which inspired ideas superior to the common race of men, I was bound by the strongest ties of affection; grief to which even the glorious occasion in which he fell, does not bring the consolation which, perhaps, it ought: His Lordship received a musket ball in his left breast, about the middle of the action, and sent an officer to me immediately with his last farewell; and soon after expired.

I have also to lament the loss of those excellent officers, Captains Duff, of the MARS, and Cooke, of the BELLEROPHON; I have yet heard of none others.

I fear that the numbers that have fallen will be found very great, when the returns come to me; but it having blown a gale of wind ever since the action, I have not yet had it in my power to collect any reports from the ships.

The ROYAL SOVEREIGN having lost her masts, except the tottering foremast, I called the EURYALUS to me, while the action continued, which ship lying within hail, made my signals – a service Captain Blackwood performed with great attention; after the action, I shifted my flag to her, that I might more easily communicate any orders to, and collect the ships, and towed the ROYAL SOVEREIGN out to Seaward. The whole fleet were now in a very perilous situation, many dismasted, all shattered, in thirteen fathoms of water, off the shoals of Trafalgar; and when I made the signal to prepare to anchor, few of the ships had an anchor to let go, their cables being shot through; but the same good Providence which aided us through such a day preserved us in the night, by the wind shifting a few points, and drifting the ships off the land, except four of the captured dismasted ships, which are now at anchor off Trafalgar, and I hope will ride safe until those gales are over.

Having thus detailed the proceedings of the fleet on this occasion, I beg to congratulate Their lordships on a victory which, I hope, will add a ray to the glory of his Majesty’s crown, and be attended with public benefit to our country. I am, &c.,

(signed) C. COLLINGWOOD.

Collingwood included The Order in which Ships of the British Squadron attacked the Combined Fleets on 21 October 1805.

Prime Minister William Pitt had to be woken. Bizarrely, before he had gone to bed he had been writing a long letter to Nelson. He liked and respected him, had consulted him before the battle, and had even escorted him personally to his carriage after one of their meetings. James Harris, 1st Earl of Malmesbury, recorded his feelings:

I shall never forget the eloquent manner in which he described his conflicting feelings when roused in the night to read Collingwood’s despatches. Pitt observed that he had been called up at various hours in his eventful life by the arrival of news of various hues; but that whether good or bad he could always lay his head on his pillow and sink into a sound sleep again. On this occasion, however, the great event announced brought with it so much to weep over, as well as to rejoice at, that he could not calm his thoughts, but at length got up, though it was three in the morning.

The news was announced to the King at 6.30 a.m. He was so deeply affected that a profound silence of nearly five minutes ensued before he could give utterance to his feelings. He, the Queen and the princesses ‘shed tears to the memory of Lord Nelson’ and went to St George’s Chapel ‘to return thanks to Almighty God on the success of His Majesty’s arms’. The King’s private secretary, Colonel Taylor, wrote to Marsden, ‘I have not on any occasion seen His Majesty more affected.’

By now the news was spreading through the capital like wildfire. The demand for more information was voracious. Crowds gathered outside the Admiralty and newspaper offices hoping to gain more information. While they were not satisfied straight away, it was not long before some of the early eye-witness accounts appeared, passed on by word of mouth from Lapenotiere, sailors aboard the PICKLE and soon afterwards in the form of private letters to families at home. Many of these early accounts added colour to the story but the details were patchy and often contradictory. Not that this really mattered to the majority of people because the main storyline was sound: England had won another great naval victory, which was perceived to have removed the threat of invasion by Napoleon Bonaparte, the personification of all their fears since the resumption of the war in 1803, and their beloved Nelson had died a hero.

The speed with which the unofficial word-of-mouth news and hearsay appears to have followed in Lapenotiere’s wake is illustrated by an article that appeared in Trewman’s Exeter Flying Post, published on the same day as The Times (7 November) but dated ‘Exeter, Wednesday, November 6th’. Whereas The Times’ report is based on fact and is full of detail, the Flying Post’s article is a splendid example of journalistic puffery:

GLORIOUS and DECISIVE VICTORY over the Combined Fleets of France and Spain, On the 21st of October. Enemy 34 sail of the line – Lord Nelson’s fleet 26 sail.

It is with pride and exultation we again lay before our readers the first intelligence of another glorious Victory, obtained by our naval heroes over the Combined Fleet of France and Spain! A victory unequalled in the annals of any country! – But whilst we rejoice in this further proof of the superior prowess of British seamen – our joy is checked at the consideration, that we have lost in the conflict many brave fellows, and most particularly a man adored by those under his command, idolised by his grateful country, and whose very name struck terror on his enemies – in a word, we have lost – NELSON; than whom a braver, never inhabited this terraqueous globe – and whose whole life has been dedicated to the service of his country. But, he fell in the arms of victory – for while life yet quivered on his lip, his gallant companions were decking his brow with never fading laurels! – Yet, he will live forever in the hearts of his countrymen; and the details of his naval exploits off Cape St Vincent – at the Nile – at Copenhagen – and off Cadiz, will adorn the annals of his native country, Great Britain, till time shall be no more. Altho’ we cannot suppress the tear which the loss of this hero has drawn from us, we feel confident that our navy will convince our enemies that tho’ NELSON is dead, the same invincible courage he possessed still lives in the breast of every True British Tar.

However, a broadsheet printed and published the day before in Plymouth, is allegedly the first printed account of the battle to be seen anywhere in Britain. It is based on the word of mouth of some of the PICKLE’s eye-witness crew. It is remarkably detailed and often quite accurate:

An account of the victory over the Combined Fleets of France and Spain; and the death of Lord Nelson.

Plymouth, Nov. 5, 1805

Messrs. T. and W. Earle and Co.

Gentlemen,

The PICKLE arrived here this morning. Captain Sykes of the NAUTILUS, went off express for London. On the 21st of October, the fleet under the command of LORD NELSON, consisting of 27 sail of the line, engaged the combined fleets of Cadiz, consisting of 33 sail of the line, nineteen Line of Battleships of the enemy, of the number of four flags, taken, one sunk, and one blown up.

Villeneuve is aboard the ROYAL SOVEREIGN: Gravina with 9 sail got back to Cadiz.

A gale of wind came on soon after the action, right on shore, and ‘tis said that two sail which had struck, got back to Cadiz, that the large four-decker, Santissimo Trinidad, was in tow, but sunk; the ROYAL SOVEREIGN, VICTORY, REVENGE, BELLEISLE, TéMéRAIRE, BELLEROPHON, and MARS, suffered most. The TéMéRAIRE engaged two ships and took them, as did the NEPTUNE two three-deckers, which struck to her. The ROYAL SOVEREIGN, it is said, had 400 men killed.

Great as this victory has been, the country has to mourn the loss of LORD NELSON, who was killed by a Musket Ball in the breast from the tops of a three-decker, Santissima Trinidad, with whom the VICTORY was engaged, and actually lashed together. His Lordship was, at the moment he received his wound, expressing his delight at the conduct of the Second in Command Admiral Collingwood. Before he died, he made the signal, that England expected every man would do his duty. This, I understand, he was enabled to do, by having brought his telegraph signals to such perfection, We have also to lament the loss of Capts. Duff and Cook, and Lord Nelson’s Secretary. Capt. Tyler wounded but not dangerously.

No other particulars of the loss have reached us. On the 24th, the PICKLE and DONEGAL were at anchor off Cadiz, in charge of the captured ships. Six sail are said to have sunk.

I write in great haste,

And am yours, &c.

P.S. ‘Tis said by some of the crew of the PICKLE that they saw 14 sail in tow; the NAUTILUS is also arrived with duplicate dispatches.

But the paper that had the real scoop of the century was not published in England at all. The Gibraltar Chronicle, Extraordinary, edited at that time by a Frenchman, was the first newspaper to carry the story. Moreover, its story was based on a letter from Collingwood to the Governor of Gibraltar, General Henry Fox. It therefore summarized events with reasonable accuracy, only going awry in its editorial, which appeared in French alongside Collingwood’s letter:

Thursday October 24th 1805.

(Copy)

EURYALUS at Sea, October 22, 1805

Yesterday a Battle was fought by His Majesty’s Fleet, with the Combined Fleets of Spain and France, and a Victory gained, which will stand recorded as one of the most brilliant and decisive, that ever distinguished the BRITISH NAVY.

The Enemy’s Fleet sailed from Cadiz, on the 19th, in the morning, Thirty Three sail of the Line in number, for the purpose of giving Battle to the British Squadron of Twenty Seven and yesterday at Eleven A. M. the contest began, close in with the Shoals of Trafalgar.

At Five P.M. Seventeen of the Enemy had surrendered and one (L’Achille) burnt, amongst which is the Sta. Ana, the Spanish Admiral DON D’ALEVA mortally wounded, and the Santisima Trinidad. The French Admiral VILLENEUVE is now a Prisoner on board the MARS; I believe THREE ADMIRALS are captured.

Our loss has been great in Men; but, what is irreparable, and the cause of Universal Lamentation, is the Death of the NOBLE COMMANDER IN CHIEF, who died in the arms of Victory; I have not yet any reports from the Ships, but have heard that Captains DUFF and COOKE fell in the action. I have to congratulate you upon the Great Event, and have the Honor to be, &c. &c. (Signed) C. COLLINGWOOD

In addition to the above particulars of the late glorious Victory, we are assured that 18 Sail of the Line were counted in our possession, before the Vessel, which brought the above dispatches, left the Fleet; and that three more of the Enemy’s Vessels were seen driving about, perfect wrecks, at the mercy of the waves, on the Barbary Shore, and which will probably also fall into our hands.

Admiral COLLINGWOOD in the DREADNOUGHT, and the van of the British Fleet most gallantly into action, without firing a shot, till his