command the whole, destined to land under the batteries of the town, and to-morrow my head will probably be crowned with either laurel or cypress.  I have only to recommend Josiah Nisbet [his stepson] to you and my Country.”  He urged Nisbet not to go in the boats, on the ground that his mother should not run the risk of losing both husband and son in one night, and that in the absence of Captain Miller, who was going in charge of a division of men, Nisbet’s duties with the ship demanded his remaining.  Nisbet steadily refused, and his presence was the immediate means of saving the admiral’s life.

At eleven P.M. the boats shoved off, carrying a thousand men.  The orders were for all to land at the mole, the intention being to storm it, and the batteries covering it, in a body, and to fight their way, thus massed, to the great square, which was designated as the place for rallying.  A considerable sea was running and the night dark, so that the Spaniards did not discover the assailants till they were within half gunshot.  The bells of the place then began to ring, and a heavy fire opened, amid which the British pushed vigorously forward.  Many, however, missed the mole.  Nelson’s own boat reached it with four or five besides, and the parties from these succeeded in carrying the mole itself, advancing to its head and spiking the guns; but there they were met with such a sustained fire of musketry and grape from the citadel and the neighboring houses, that they could get no farther.  Many were killed and wounded, and the rest after a struggle had to retreat.

Troubridge, with a number of others who missed the mole, landed amid a heavy surf, which stove the boats on a rocky beach and tumbled the men into the water, whereby most of the ammunition was spoiled.  In the midst of the turmoil the cutter “Fox” was struck by a shot under water, and went down, taking with her her commander and ninety-seven men.  Although the scaling-ladders had all been lost in the general upset, those who here got on shore succeeded in climbing over the walls, and forced their way to the place of rendezvous in the great square.  There Troubridge, having assembled between three and four hundred men, held his ground, awaiting Nelson and the party that might have entered by way of the mole.

It was in vain.  Nelson had been struck by a grapeshot in the right elbow, as, with sword drawn, he was stepping from the boat to the landing.  Bleeding profusely and faint, but clinging with his left hand to the sword, which had belonged to his uncle Maurice Suckling, he fell back into the arms of Josiah Nisbet, who managed with considerable presence of mind to bind up the shattered limb and stop the flowing of the blood.  A few men being got together, the boat pushed off to take the admiral back to the ship.  At this moment occurred the sinking of the “Fox;” upon which much delay ensued, because Nelson refused to abandon the men struggling in the water, and insisted