From the Davy Jones’s Locker
The fifth in the series of ‘Davy Jones’s Locker’ articles is from the August 1976 edition of the Journal of the Australian Naval Institute. Besides a focus on contemporary maritime issues, the Journal also contained articles of a historical nature. One of the earliest examples is the reproduction of a letter submitted by ANI member Lieutenant Commander P. Bruce-Walker, written by his great-great grandfather. The then 19 year old Midshipman Henry Walker was on board HMS Bellerophon (Captain John Cooke) during the Battle of Trafalgar.
HMS Bellerophon at Sea Latitude 50oN, Longitude 14°06’W. 22 November 1805.
Dear Mother,
I wrote you a few lines from onboard the Leviathan in haste, to assure you of my safety after the late memorable action, and was in hopes before this time to have had the pleasure of giving you an account of my arrival in England for which I am now on my passage, the Bellerophon being so much disabled in the action as to be in want of a thorough repair. The papers will have given you a fuller account of the action than I can, but lest you should accuse me of idleness I will give some particulars, which may, I hope, give you some amusement.
Lord Nelson took the command of our fleet on the 29th of September, and though we had before that no doubt of success in the event of an action, yet the presence of such a man could not but inspire every individual in the fleet with additional confidence. Everyone felt himself more than a match for any enemy that there was any probability of being opposed to, and as we knew the combined fleet has positive orders to put to sea. Every eye was anxiously fixed towards the shore, and every signal that was seen flying on board our repeating frigates was expected to convey the welcome intelligence. We were not long kept in this state of suspense, for about nine in the morning on the 19th October, a ship was observed firing guns and making signals for the enemy’s fleet being getting under way.
The Admiral immediately made signals for a general chase and to prepare for action. You may easily conceive with what alacrity this was obeyed. In a quarter of an hour 26 of the finest ships in the navy were under all sail, and formed a glorious sight; the wind was favourable and in a short time the Bellerophon, Belleisle, Orion, Leviathan and Polyphemus showed their superiority of sailing and got far ahead of the fleet which continued under a press of sail the whole ensuing night, steering for the Straits which was supposed to be the enemy’s destination. At daylight we were in sight of Gibraltar; a frigate made signals for a strange fleet N. by E. when we were recalled and signals made to form the order of sailing. We then stood back again to the northward; the weather was thick and squally so that we saw nothing of the enemy that day, though the Agamemnon and our frigates formed a chain betwixt them and us, and communicated by signals all their motions.
During the night we plainly discerned their signals and remained in the most anxious expectation till the next morning, when, at daylight, we saw them to leeward, and immediately beat to quarters and bore down on them in two columns with all sails set, Lord Nelson in the Victory leading one line. Admiral Collingwood, in the Royal Sovereign, the other, in which the Bellerophon was the fifth ship.
The day was remarkably fine, our fleet consisted of 27 sail of the line, seven of which three deckers, two 80 gun ships, fifteen seventy-fours, and one sixty-four. Whilst we were bearing down on them they formed in a close order of battle, French and Spaniards alternately, and waited for us with great intrepidity. A few minutes before the firing commenced, Lord Nelson conveyed by telegraph the following sentence to the fleet “England expects that every man will do his duty.” This was received onboard our ship with three cheers and a general shout of, “No fear of that.”
At 10 minutes past twelve the Royal Sovereign opened fire on the enemy’s centre; at 12.20 she broke their line and engaged a Spanish 3-decker to leeward, who was followed by the Mars, Belleisle and Tennant, which engaged their respective opponents without breaking the line; at 12.25 we opened our fire, at 12.30, broke the line astern a Spanish 2-decker, fighting both sides in passing through, at 12.35, whilst hauling up, fell onboard L’Aigle, a French 80 gun ship, our foreyard hooking with her main yard. The action soon after became general. L’Aigle was the best manned ship in the combined fleet, and was full of picked grenadiers, who annoyed us most dreadfully with musketry. The Bellerophonwas equally well manned, and had she been fairly alongside her opponent, would soon have carried her, and even in the disadvantageous situation in which we were placed, we very soon drove them from the lower deck; and though we could only bring our foremost guns to bear upon her, whilst we received her whole broadside and the fire of four other ships. We had nearly silenced her fire when she dropped astern of us. But you will be able to judge of our situation from an extract from our log:
“1235 Fell onboard the French two-deck ship L’Aigle whilst hauling to the wind, our fore yard hooking with her main yard; kept up by a brisk fire on her on our starboard bow, and a Spanish two-decker the Monarca on the larboard bow, at the same time, receiving and returning fire from a Spanish two-decker on larboard quarter, and receiving the fire of a Spanish two-decker athwart our stern and a French two-decker abaft the starboard beam. At 1, the main and mizzen topmasts fell over the side, at 1.5, the master and 1.11, the captain fell, still foul of L’Aigle, and keeping up a brisk fire from the main and lower deck guns; quarter deck, poop, and forecastle being nearly cleared away by the enemy’s musketry chiefly from the troops onboard L’Aigle. 1.20 the jib boom was shot away; at 1.40, L’Aigle dropped to leeward under a raking fire from us as she fell off, our ship at this time unmanageable from braces, bowlines etc., shot away; 1.45 L’Aigle was engaged by Defiance, 2.5 she struck.”
After we had thus got clear of our principal opponent, who did not return a single gun whilst we raked her, and two others of them had been engaged by the Dreadnought and Colossus, we were now only opposed to two Spanish seventy-fours, one of which, the Monarca, shortly afterwards struck and was at 3 o’clock taken possession of by our second Lieutenant, myself and 8 men. The remaining one, the Bahama, struck to us in about half an hour afterwards, and was taken possession of by our fourth Lieutenant. There was very little firing after this except from five French ships making off to windward, which fired on both the Bellerophon and Monarca. One of them was taken by the Minataur, and at 7 minutes after 5 the firing ceased, when 21 of the enemy’s ships remained in our possession and one on fire, which soon blew up, another sunk in action. Among the prizes were three Admiral’s ships, the Commander in Chief, Admiral Villeneuve. was taken as was the Santisima Trinidad, a Spanish 4-decker of 138 guns the largest ship in the world.
Such a victory could not be expected without great loss. Our ship, as was to be expected from her situation, suffered very considerably, having 28 killed outright, 127 badly, and about 40 slightly wounded; 23 are since dead of their wounds. Our prize, the Monarca, had suffered still more, having upwards of 250 killed and wounded, and the ship very much injured in every respect.
Till now everything had been favourable to the British, and from the fineness of the day we had every prospect of bringing 20 of our prizes to England; but in the ensuing night a storm came on, such as I had never witnessed, and for the four following days we had a much severer struggle against the elements than the enemy. You will imagine what have been our sufferings, in a crippled ship, with 500 prisoners onboard and only 55 Englishmen, most of whom were in a constant state of intoxication. We rolled away our masts except the fore mast; were afterwards forced to cut away 2 anchors, heave overboard several guns, shot etc. to lighten her; and were, after all, in such imminent danger of sinking that, seeing no ship near to assist us, we at length determined to run the ship on shore on the Spanish coast, which we should have done had not the Leviathan fortunately fallen in with and saved us, and all but about 150 Spaniards. The ship then went ashore and was afterwards destroyed. We were more fortunate than several of our countrymen, who were lost in the prizes; others were taken prisoners by the French and Spaniards, who rose up and carried them into Cadiz.
So dreadful was the storm that only four of the prizes, one of which is the Bahama, are left in our possession, they are now in Gibraltar. Three got back into Cadiz, five on shore near that place, and the remainder either foundered in the gale or were destroyed by us to prevent their again falling into the enemy’s hands. All the British ships (were) fortunate enough to weather out the gale. Thirteen of the most disabled put into Gibraltar, the Bellerophon was one. I did not join till the 3rd inst., the day before she sailed in company with the Victory and Belleisle for England. I had the mortification to find my chest had been broken open during my absence, several of my clothes stolen, and nearly all my linen either lost or torn by the wounded for bandages, my hammock and bedding had likewise been shot away in the action, which is the more unfortunate as I can so ill afford to replace them. I suppose I have made about £20 prize money in the late action, which would have brought me upwards of £100 had we not met with the dreadful storm which destroyed our prizes, but when I shall receive this or get back to England is now equally uncertain, for we have lately had such violent easterly gales as have driven us far to the westward of England and Ireland, and till we get a fair wind it is impossible with crippled ships like ours to make any way towards home.
Henry Walker
About HMS Bellerophon
HMS Bellerophon was universally known by sailors as the ‘Billy Ruffian’. She was a 74-gun ship of the line and was launched in 1786. Bellerophon served during the French Revolutionary and Napoleonic wars, mostly on blockades or convoy escort duties. She fought in three fleet actions: the Glorious First of June (1794), the Battle of the Nile (1798) and the Battle of Trafalgar. While the ship was on blockade duty in 1815, Napoleon boarded Bellerophon so he could surrender to the ship’s captain, ending 22 years of almost continuous war between Britain and France.
Bellerophon was paid off and converted to a prison ship in 1815, and was renamed Captivity in 1824 to free the name for another ship. Captivity continued in service until 1834, when the last convicts left. The Admiralty sold her in 1836 and she was subsequently broken up.
