An hour and ten minutes elapsed from the time when Nelson received his wound before Hardy could come to him.  They shook hands in silence, Hardy in vain struggling to suppress the feelings of that most painful yet sublimest moment.  “Well, Hardy,” said Nelson, “how goes the day with us?” “Very well,” replied Hardy; “ten ships have struck, but five of the van have tacked, and show an intention to bear down upon the ‘Victory.’  I have called two or three of our fresh ships round, and have no doubt of giving them a drubbing.”  “I hope,” said Nelson, “none of our ships have struck?” Hardy answered, “There was no fear of that.”  Then, and not till then, Nelson spoke of himself.  “I am a dead man, Hardy,” said he; “I am going fast; it will be all over with me soon; come nearer to me.”  Hardy observed that he hoped Mr. Beattie (the surgeon) could yet hold out some prospect of life.  “Oh no,” he replied, “it is impossible; my back is shot through—­Beattie will tell you so.”  Captain Hardy then once more shook hands with him, and, with a heart almost bursting, hastened upon deck.

By this time all feeling below the breast was gone; and Nelson, having made the surgeon ascertain this, said to him, “You know I am gone; I know it—­I feel something rising in my breast (putting his hand on his left side) which tells me so.”  And upon Beattie’s inquiring whether his pain was very great, he replied, “So great, that he wished he were dead.”  “Yet,” said he, in a lower voice, “one would like to live a little longer too!”

Captain Hardy, some fifty minutes after he had left the cockpit, returned, and again taking the hand of his dying friend and commander, congratulated him on having gained a complete victory.  How many of the enemy were taken, he did not know, as it was impossible to perceive them distinctly, but fourteen or fifteen at least.  “That’s well,” cried Nelson, “but I bargained for twenty.”  And then, in a stronger voice, he said, “Anchor,!  Hardy, anchor.”  Hardy upon this hinted that Admiral Collingwood would take upon himself the direction of affairs.  “Not while I live, Hardy,” said the dying Nelson, ineffectually endeavouring to raise himself from the bed; “do you anchor.”  His previous order for preparing to anchor had shown how clearly he foresaw the necessity of this.  Presently, calling Hardy back, he said to him in a low voice, “Don’t throw me overboard,” and he desired that he might be buried by his parents, unless it should please the king to order otherwise.  “Kiss me, Hardy,” said he.  Hardy knelt down and kissed his cheek, and Nelson said, “Now, I am satisfied.  Thank God, I have done my duty.”  Hardy stood over him in silence for a moment or two, then knelt again and kissed his forehead.  “Who is that?” said Nelson; and being informed, he replied, “God bless you, Hardy.”  And Hardy then left him for ever.

SOUTHEY.

[Note:_The death of Nelson_ took place at the Battle of Trafalgar, 1805.]