to possess. In the mean while, the murderous desire of the enemy
to single out the officers, continued growing more and more manifest. Of
a hundred and ten marines stationed on the poop and quarter-deck,
upwards of eighty were either killed or wounded. Mr. Pascoe,
first-lieutenant of the Victory, received a very severe wound, while
conversing with his lordship; and John Scott, Esq. his lordship's
secretary, was shot through the head, by a musket-ball, at his side,
Captain Adair of the marines, almost at the same instant, experienced a
similar fate. This was about a quarter of an hour past one o'clock; and,
a few minutes afterward, Captain Hardy, who was standing near his
lordship, observed a marksman in the mizen-top of the Bucentaure, which
then lay on the Victory's quarter, in the very act of taking a
deliberate aim at his beloved commander. Scarcely had he time to
exclaim--"Change your position, my lord! I see a rascal taking aim at
you!" when the fatal bullet unhappily smote the hero; and, having
entered near the top of his left shoulder, penetrated through his lungs,
carrying with it part of the adhering epaulette, and lodged in the
spinal marrow of his back. A shout of horrid joy, from the enemy,
seemed to announce their sense of the cruel success. His lordship was
prevented from falling, by Captain Hardy; to whom he said, with a
smile--"They have done for me, at last!"

As the officers were conducting him below, his lordship deliberately
remarked that the tiller-rope was too slack, and requested that Captain
Hardy might be told to get it tightened. In the mean time, Mr. Pollard,
a young midshipman of the Victory, not more than sixteen years of age,
having levelled a musket at the man who shot his lordship, the fellow
was seen instantly to fall. All the surgeons being busily engaged with
the wounded, our hero, as usual, insisted on waiting till his turn. The
surgeon who examined the wound soon clearly discovered what must be it's
fatal effect. Lord Nelson had attentively regarded his countenance; and,
on beholding him turn pale, calmly said--"It is, I perceive, mortal!"

The Reverend Dr. Scott, who was looking for his wounded friend,
Lieutenant Pascoe, in the cockpit, to his utter astonishment and horror,
discovered that his lordship had that moment been brought down. He
immediately seated himself on the floor, and supported his pillow during
the whole time of the surgeon's operations; indeed, except for a few
m