“In this battle we lost the brave Vice-Admiral Viscount Nelson, who was killed on board the _Victory_ by a musket-ball from the maintop of the French 84-gun ship, _Rédoutable_. The news of the death of this lamented hero threw a damp over our victory, which we were not prepared for. At noon on the 23rd, the signal was made that the remnant of the enemy’s fleet was coming out of Cadiz to try and pick up some of the dismasted ships and prizes; cast off the _Royal Sovereign_, and bore up with the rest of the ships that were able, and formed the line of battle to leeward of our dismasted ships and prizes for their protection; on seeing which, the enemy returned into port without accomplishing his object, but losing another ship, the _El Rayo_ (100), for his pains!” Thus ended this noble fight, the consequences of which were felt from one end of Europe to the other, indeed, I may say, in all parts of the world; and, surely, for such a day’s work, the country ought to have voted a medal, not only to the admirals and captains, but (as was the case at Waterloo) to every officer, seaman, and marine, in the fleet. The loss of the _Neptune_ in this action, considering what she did, was comparatively small; but the ship was admirably managed by her gallant captain, who was ably supported by a clever scientific first lieutenant (the present Captain George Acklom), who justly merited every praise for his coolness and abilities on that memorable day. During the time we were going into action, and being raked by the enemy, the whole of the crew, with the exception of the officers, were made to lie flat on the deck, to secure them from the raking shots, some of which came in at the bows and went out at the stern. Had it not been for the above precaution, many lives must have been sacrificed. My quarters were the five midship-guns on each side of the main-deck. I was sent on board the _Santissima Trinidada_, a few days after the action, to assist in getting out the wounded men, previous to destroying her. She was a magnificent ship, and ought now to be in Portsmouth harbour. Her top-sides, it is true, were perfectly riddled by our beautiful firing, and she had, if I recollect right, 550 killed and wounded; but from the lower part of the sills of the lower-deck ports to the water’s edge, few shot of consequence had hurt her between wind and water, and those were all plugged up. She was built of cedar, and would have lasted for ages, a glorious trophy of the battle; but “sink, burn, and destroy,” was the order of the day, and after a great deal of trouble, scuttling her in many places, hauling up her lower-deck ports,--that when she rolled the heavy sea might fill her decks,--she did at last go unwillingly to the bottom.