determined upon, and communicated to the flag officers and captains, few signals were necessary, and none were made except to direct close order as the lines bore down.  The Commander-in-Chief in the Victory led the weather column, and the Royal Sovereign, which bore my flag, the lee.  The action began at twelve o’clock by the leading ships of the column breaking through the enemy’s line; the Commander-in-Chief about the tenth ship from the van; the second-in-command about the twelfth from the rear, leaving the van of the enemy unoccupied; the succeeding ships breaking through in all parts, astern of their leaders, and engaging the enemy at the muzzles of their guns.  The conflict was severe; the enemy’s ships were fought with a gallantry highly honourable to their officers; but the attack on them was irresistible, and it pleased the Almighty Disposer of all events to grant his Majesty’s arms a complete and glorious victory.  About three p.m., many of the enemy’s ships having struck their colours, their line gave way; Admiral Gravina, with ten ships joining their frigates to leewards, stood towards Cadiz.  The five headmost ships of their van tacked, and standing to the southward, to windward of the British line, were engaged, and the sternmost of them taken; the others went off, leaving to his Majesty’s squadron nineteen ships of the line (of which two are first-rates, the Santissima Trinidad, and the Santa Anna), with three flag officers, viz.  Admiral Villeneuve, the Commander-in-Chief; Don Ignacio Maria D’Alava, Vice-Admiral; and the Spanish Rear-Admiral Don Baltazar Hidalgo Cisneros.

After such a victory it may appear unnecessary to enter into encomiums on the particular parts taken by the several commanders; the conclusion says more than I have language to express; the spirit which animated all was the same; when all exert themselves zealously in their country’s service, all deserve that their high merits should stand recorded; and never was high merit more conspicuous than in the battle I have described.

The Achille, a French seventy-four, after having surrendered, by some mismanagement of the Frenchmen, took fire and blew up; two hundred of her men were saved by the tenders.  A circumstance occurred during the action, which so strongly marks the invincible spirit of British seamen, when engaging the enemies of their country, that I cannot resist the pleasure I have in making known to their Lordships:  the Temeraire was boarded, by accident or design, by a French ship on one side, and a Spaniard on the other; the contest was vigorous; but in the end the combined ensigns were torn from the poop, and the British hoisted in their places.[15]

Such a battle could not be fought without sustaining a great loss of men.  I have not only to lament in common with the British Navy and the British nation in the fall of the Commander-in-Chief,