faithfully convey to the eye and ear. Our hero, amidst this most
terrific scene, appeared to be literally in his glory. He was quite
enraptured with the bravery and skill of all under his command: he was
not displeased to find, that the enemy, in general, fought like men
worthy of being conquered; of being themselves conquerors, in a better
cause. In a dress richly covered with the honours which he had acquired
by his prowess in former battles, he stood a conspicuous object of
emulative worth to all the heroic men who surrounded him in this. Never
had his aspiring and enraptured heart beheld a victory more brilliantly
glorious awaiting their noble exertions. Ineffable delight, blended with
a divine benignity, beamed over the hero's countenance. He felt
conscious of being engaged in contending for all that is dear to man;
and, consequently, struggling in a cause which could by no means be
displeasing to Heaven. He doubted little the success of his country, for
he knew in what he confided; but he was not presumptuous, for he had
early been instructed, that "the battle is not always to the strong."
His own personal fate was ever humbly resigned to the will of the Great
Disposer; live, or die, he was alone solicitous that he should live or
die in glory. While victory, however, from all observation, appeared
within his grasp, he could not but be conscious that individual danger
every where hovered around. The Santissima Trinidada carried full
sixteen hundred men; including a corps of troops, among whom were
several sharp-shooters. Many other ships had, also, Tyrolese riflemen on
board. Amidst the conflict of cannon, fired muzzle to muzzle, showers of
bullets were directed on the quarter-deck; where the distinguished hero
stood, fearlessly giving his orders, and chearfully abiding every peril.
His heart was animated, and his spirits were gay. The stump of his right
arm, which he always pleasantly denominated his fin, moved the shoulder
of his sleeve up and down with the utmost rapidity, as was customary
when he felt greatly pleased. Captain Hardy, apprehensive that Lord
Nelson's peculiar attire pointed him out as too obvious a mark, advised
the hero to change his dress, or cover himself with a great-coat; but he
no otherwise regarded the precautionary advice, than by observing that
he had not yet time to do so. It probably struck his great mind, that
such an act might evince too much personal attention for a commander in
chief