The day our sailor did his duty

IT was a beautiful misty autumn morning as the sun rose above the cliffs of Cape Trafalgar, south of Cadiz in southern Spain. The rain squalls of the night had moved on, and a gentle breeze barely rippled the Atlantic Ocean. About 6am, as the sky brightened, the sailing master of the Victory spied the enemy, at a distance of some ten or 12 miles.

Monday, October 21, 1805. Vice Admiral Lord Nelson, with 27 ships of the line, was moving into position to attack the 33 ships of the combined French and Spanish fleets under Vice Admiral Villeneuve. The first shots were fired about midday. Five hours later, it was all but over.

Now, to mark the 200th anniversary of the battle, the story has been told through the eyes of those who were there. Bringing together letters, diaries, log books and admiralty records, author Peter Warwick has constructed the most comprehensive eye-witness account of the most famous battle in British naval history.

One of those accounts was written by William Pryce Cumby, a 34-year-old husband and father, who lived at Heighington, near Darlington. Cumby was a lieutenant on board the Bellerophon, the British ship which came closer than any other to being taken by the enemy. In the heat of battle, he was to take over command of the ship when his captain was killed, and his actions almost certainly saved the lives of many of his men.

But Cumby was not to know any of this when he was woken on the morning of October 21. He wrote:

'About a quarter before six I was roused from my slumbers by my messmate Overton, the Master, who called out, 'Cumby, my boy, turn out; here they are all ready for you, thirty three sail of the line close under our lee, and evidently disposed to await our attack.'

I was soon on deck, when the enemy's fleet was distinctly seen to leeward, standing to the southward under easy sail, and forming in line on the starboard tack; at six o'clock the signal was made to form the order of sailing, and soon after to bear up and steer ENE. We made sail in our station, and at twenty minutes past six we answered the signal to prepare for battle and soon afterwards to steer east; we then beat to quarters, and cleared ship for action.

After I had breakfasted as usual at eight o'clock with the Captain in his cabin, he begged me to wait a little as he had something to show me, when he produced, and requested me to peruse, Lord Nelson's private memorandum, addressed to the captains, relative to the conduct of the ships in action, which having read he inquired whether I perfectly understood the Admiral's instructions. I replied that they were so distinct and explicit that it was quite impossible they could be misunderstood. He then expressed his satisfaction, and said he wished me made acquaintance with it, that in the event of his being 'bowl'd out' I might know how to conduct the ship agreeable to the Admiral's wishes.

At eleven o'clock, finding we should not be in action for an hour or more, we piped to dinner, which we had ordered to be in readiness for the ship's company at that hour thinking that Englishmen would fight all the better for having a comfortable meal; and at the same time Captain Cooke joined us in partaking of some cold meat, etc on the rudder head, all our bulkheads, tables, etc, being necessarily taken down and carried below.

A quarter past 11 Lord Nelson made the telegraphic signal, 'England expects that every man will do his duty,' which, you may believe, produced the most animating and inspiring effect on the whole fleet; and at noon he made the last signal observed from the Bellerophon before the action began which was to, 'Prepare to anchor after the close of the day'. We were now rapidly closing with the enemy's line... with the signal for close action flying."

The Bellerophon was in the British fleet's Lee Column, commanded by Vice Admiral Collingwood, and was swiftly engaged in the battle. Breaking through the French and Spanish line, the wind was so light she was able to fire two port broadsides at the Spanish Monarca, effectively removing her from the battle.

But as the Bellerophon hauled to the wind to fire again, out of the smoke came another ship. Desperately trying to avoid a collision, the Bellerophon hauled back, but it was too late, and she smashed into the French ship Aigle, and their masts became entangled.

Canons fired at point blank range, and the opposing crews fell to hand-to-hand fighting, battering each other and slashing with their cutlasses through the port holes. The French also threw grenades, and packed the rigging with musketeers.

The Bellerophon's Captain John Cooke was in the thick of the action, killing a French officer on his own quarterdeck. He ordered Cumby to the gun decks, to make sure the starboard guns kept firing. On his way, Cumby met two sailors carrying the Master, Edward Overton, whose leg had been smashed. He did not survive.

When Cumby came back to the quarterdeck, it was to find his captain dead, shot twice in the chest while reloading his pistols.

'I went immediately on the quarterdeck and assumed the command of the ship - this would be about quarter past one o'clock - when I found we were still engaged with the Aigle, on whom we kept up a brisk fire, and also on our old opponent on our larboard bow, the Monarca, who by this time was nearly silenced; at the same time we were receiving the fire of two other of the enemy's ships. Our quarterdeck, poop and forecastle were at this time almost cleared by musketry from troops onboard the Aigle... I ordered all the remaining men down from the poop, and... had them mustered... in readiness to repel any attempt that might be made by the enemy to board us; their position rendering it quite impracticable for us to board them in the face of such musketry..."

The Bellerophon was slowly being destroyed by the hail of musket fire and grenades. The French twice attempted to board, but the British smashed away at the hands trying to get a hold on their ship, sending the borders into the sea.

Although the superior fire from the Bellerophon's lower decks silenced the Aigle's lower deck, on the upper deck the advantage was with the French. Cumby continued:

'She threw many hand grenades on board us, both on our forecastle and gangway and in at the ports. Some of these exploded and dreadfully scorched several of our men; one of them I took up myself from the gangway where the fuse was burning, and threw it overboard."

But the British rate of fire finally began to tell and when the Aigle's return of fire eased off, the British elevated their guns to fire through the Aigle's decks. By the time the two ships separated, the Aigle was almost beaten, even before it came under attack from the Defiance, newly joining the battle.

The Bellerophon had been in greater peril than any of the British ships, but had survived, albeit with 123 casualties. Cumby concluded:

'I must say I was astonished at the coolness and undaunted bravery displayed by our gallant and veteran crew, when surround by five enemy's ships, and for a length of time unassisted by any of ours. Our loss, as might be expected, was considerable, and fell chiefly on our prime seamen, who were foremost in distinguishing themselves; I consider myself as very fortunate in having escaped unhurt."

Although the Bellerophon's role in the battle was over, Cumby's fight on behalf of his men was not. He made regular appeals to Lloyd's Patriotic Fund, which had been set up for those wounded, or the dependants of those killed, in war. In his first letter, he highlighted the plight of Thomas Robinson, a 54-year-old boatswain:

'Having been severely wounded in both hands towards the close of the action, he went down to be dressed, but finding the cockpit full of wounded, and the Surgeon with his Sole Assistant fully employed on cases which he deemed of greater danger than his own, he got the Purser's steward to bind up his hands and immediately returned to the deck, offering and entreating me to accept his services such as they then might be, wherever I thought them most useful."

Robinson was sent to Gibraltar Hospital, where he died of his wounds 11 days later. His widow was granted £80 from the fund and a pension of £25, with his children each receiving £15 6s 6d in trust.

Cumby also wrote on behalf of George Pearson, a 13-year-old Volunteer 1st Class, who was to receive £40 from the fund. Pearson was wounded by a splinter in the thigh during the battle, but it was three days later when the Bellerophon encountered ten Spanish ships, making a demonstration of attacking the British ships, that his heroism was on display. Cumby wrote:

'When the signal was made to prepare for battle and our drums had beat to quarters for the purpose, the first person that caught my eye on the Quarter-deck was little Pearson, dragging with difficulty one leg after another. I said to him, 'Pearson, you had better go below.' 'I should be very sorry to be below at a time like this.' I instantly said, 'Indeed, I will not order you down and if you live you'll be a second Nelson.'

Pearson did live to be a lieutenant, but died of fever.

* Voices from the Battle of Trafalgar by Peter Warwick (David and Charles, £19.99).