put his helm up and went clear.  By this time the Spanish division on the right, or west, of the British had changed its course and was steering north, parallel but opposite to its foes.  As the Culloden went through, the admiral signalled her to put about and follow it.  Troubridge, fully expecting this order, obeyed at once; and Jervis’s signal was scarce unfurled when, by the flapping of the Culloden’s sails, he saw it was receiving execution.  “Look at Troubridge!” he shouted.  “Doesn’t he handle his ship as though the eyes of all England were on him?  I would to God they were, that she might know him as I know him!” But here a graver matter drew the admiral’s care.  The Spanish division from the left, steering across his path of advance, approached, purposing in appearance to break through the line.  The Victory stopped, or, as seamen say, hove-to; and as the Spanish admiral came near within a hundred yards, her broadside rang out, sweeping through the crowded decks and lofty spars a storm of shot, to which, in the relative positions, the foe could not reply.  Staggered and crippled he went about, and the Victory stood on.

Meanwhile, the ships which Troubridge and his followers were pursuing drew toward the tail of the British column, and as they did so made a movement to pass round it, and so join their friends who had just been so severely handled in making the attempt to pass through.  But Nelson was in this part of the order, there being but two ships behind him.  Now, as far as signals went, he should continue on, and, like the others, follow in due succession behind the Culloden.  He saw that if this were done the Spaniards would effect their junction, so he instantly turned his ship toward the rear, out of her place, and threw her alone across the enemy’s advance.  It is said that the Captain of the Fleet drew Jervis’s attention to this breach of discipline.  “Ay,” replied the old seaman, “and if ever you offend in the same way, I promise you my forgiveness beforehand.”  For a while Nelson took the brunt of the hostile fire from half a dozen ships, but not for long.  Soon Troubridge, his dearest friend, came up with a couple of others; and Collingwood, the close associate of early days, who had the rear ship, was signalled to imitate Nelson’s act.  In doing this, he silenced the fire of two enemies; but, wrote Nelson, “disdaining the parade of taking possession of beaten ships, Captain Collingwood most gallantly pushed on to save his old friend and messmate, who appeared to be in a critical state, being then fired upon by three first-rates, and the San Nicolas, eighty.”  To get between Nelson’s ship and the San Nicolas, Collingwood had to steer close, passing within ten feet of the latter; so that, to use his own expression, “though we did not touch sides, you could not put a bodkin between us.”  His fire drove the San Nicolas upon one of the first-rates, the San Josef; and when, continuing