At about three o’clock, the five ships of the enemy’s van, passing within gunshot to windward,[142] opened fire upon the British ships and their prizes.  The “Victory” with her consorts replied.  “Oh, Victory!  Victory!” cried the sufferer, “how you distract my poor brain!” and after a pause added, “How dear life is to all men!” This distant exchange of shots was ineffectual, except to kill or wound a few more people, but while it continued Hardy had to be on deck, for the flag of the commander-in-chief still vested his authority in that ship.  During this period an officer was sent to Collingwood to inform him of the admiral’s condition, and to bear a personal message of farewell from the latter; but Nelson had no idea of transferring any portion of his duty until he parted with his life also.

A short hour elapsed between Hardy’s leaving the cockpit and his returning to it, which brings the time to four o’clock.  Strength had ebbed fast meanwhile, and the end was now very near; but Nelson was still conscious.  The friends again shook hands, and the captain, before releasing his grasp, congratulated the dying hero upon the brilliancy of the victory.  It was complete, he said.  How many were captured, it was impossible to see, but he was certain fourteen or fifteen.  The exact number proved to be eighteen.  “That is well,” said Nelson, but added, faithful to his exhaustive ideas of sufficiency, “I bargained for twenty.”  Then he exclaimed, “Anchor, Hardy, anchor!” Hardy felt the embarrassment of issuing orders now that Collingwood knew that his chief was in the very arms of death; but Nelson was clearly within his rights.  “I suppose, my Lord,” said the captain, “Admiral Collingwood will now take upon himself the direction of affairs.”  “Not while I live, I hope, Hardy,” cried Nelson, and for a moment endeavored, ineffectually, to raise himself from the bed.  “No.  Do you anchor, Hardy.”  Captain Hardy then said, “Shall we make the signal, Sir?” “Yes,” answered the admiral, “for if I live, I’ll anchor.”  These words he repeated several times, even after Hardy had left him, and the energy of his manner showed that for the moment the sense of duty and of responsibility had triumphed over his increasing weakness.

Reaction of course followed, and he told Hardy he felt that in a few minutes he should be no more.  “Don’t throw me overboard,” he added; “you know what to do.”  Hardy having given assurance that these wishes should be attended to, Nelson then said, “Take care of my dear Lady Hamilton, Hardy:  take care of poor Lady Hamilton.  Kiss me, Hardy.”  The captain knelt down and kissed his cheek.  “Now I am satisfied.  Thank God, I have done my duty.”  Hardy rose and stood looking silently at him for an instant or two, then knelt down again and kissed his forehead.  “Who is that?” asked Nelson.  The captain answered, “It is Hardy;” to which his Lordship replied, “God bless you, Hardy!” The latter then returned to the quarter-deck, having passed about eight minutes in this final interview.