to Hardy to come to him, but for some time it was not possible for that officer to leave the deck.  During this period, up to between half-past two and three, the ships of the two British divisions, that followed the leaders, were breaking successively into the enemy’s order, and carrying out with intelligent precision the broad outlines of Nelson’s instructions.  The heads of the columns had dashed themselves to pieces, like a forlorn hope, against the overpowering number of foes which opposed their passage—­an analysis of the returns shows that upon the four ships which led, the “Victory” and “Temeraire,” the “Royal Sovereign” and “Belleisle,” fell one-third of the entire loss in a fleet of twenty-seven sail.  But they had forced their way through, and by the sacrifice of themselves had shattered and pulverized the local resistance, destroyed the coherence of the hostile line, and opened the road for the successful action of their followers.  With the appearance of the latter upon the scene, succeeded shortly by the approach of the allied van, though too late and in disorder, began what may be called the second and final phase of the battle.

While such things were happening the deck could not be left by Hardy, who, for the time being, was commander-in-chief as well as captain.  Shortly after Nelson fell, the “Temeraire” had run on board the “Redoutable” on the other side, and the French “Fougueux” upon the “Temeraire,” so that for a few minutes the four ships were fast together, in the heat of the fight.  About quarter past two, the “Victory” was shoved clear, and lay with her head to the northward, though scarcely with steerage way.  The three others remained in contact with their heads to the southward.  While this melee was in progress, the French flagship “Bucentaure” surrendered, at five minutes past two; but, before hauling down the flag, Villeneuve made a signal to his recreant van,—­“The ships that are not engaged, take positions which will bring them most rapidly under fire.”  Thus summoned, the ten vessels which constituted the van began to go about, as they should have done before; and, although retarded by the slack wind, they had got their heads to the southward by half-past two.  Five stood to leeward of the line of battle, but five to windward.  The latter would pass not far to the westward of the “Victory,” and to meet this fresh attack demanded the captain’s further care, and postponed his going to the death-bed of his chief.  The latter had become very agitated at the delay, thinking that Hardy might be dead and the news kept from him.  “Will nobody bring Hardy to me?” he frequently exclaimed.  “He must be killed; he is surely destroyed.”  At last a midshipman came down with the message that “circumstances respecting the fleet required the captain’s presence on deck, but that he would take the first favourable moment to visit his Lordship.”  Nelson, hearing the voice, asked who it was that spoke.  The lad, Bulkeley, who later in the day was wounded also, was the son of a former shipmate in the far back days of the San Juan expedition, and the dying admiral charged the lad with a remembrance to his father.