I understood it all. The brave commander of the Santa Ana, Don Ignacio de Alva, seeing that we were within hail of some Spanish ships, which had come out of Cádiz in hope of rescuing some of our captured vessels and to take off the survivors from such as might be sinking, had addressed a stirring harangue to his disheartened crew who responded to his enthusiasm by a supreme effort. By a sudden rush they had disarmed the English who were in charge and hoisted the Spanish flag once more. The Santa Ana was free, but she had to fight for life, a more desperate struggle perhaps than the first had been.
This bold attempt—one of the most honorable episodes of the battle of Trafalgar—was made on board a dismasted ship, that had lost her rudder, with half her complement of men killed or wounded, and the other half in a wretched condition both moral and physical. However, the deed once done we had to face the consequences; two Englishmen, considerably battered no doubt, fired on the Santa Ana; but the Asís, the Montañes, and the Rayo—three ships that had got off with Gravina on the 21st—opportunely came to the rescue, having come out with a view to recapturing the prizes. The brave cripples rushed into the desperate action, with even more courage perhaps than into the former battle, for their unhealed wounds spurred them to fury and they seemed to fight with greater ardor in proportion as they had less life to lose.
All the incidents of the dreadful 21st were repeated before my eyes; the enthusiasm was tremendous, but the hands were so few that twice the will and energy were needed. This heroic action fills indeed but a brief page in history, for, by the side of the great event which is now known as the Battle of Trafalgar, such details are dwarfed or disappear altogether like a transient spark in a night of gloom and horror.
The next thing that happened to me personally cost me some bitter tears. Not finding my master at once I felt sure he was in some danger, so I went down to the upper gun-deck and there I found him, training a cannon. His trembling hand had snatched the linstock from that of a wounded sailor and he was trying, with the feeble sight of his right eye, to discover to what point in the foe he had better send the missile. When the piece went off he turned to me trembling with satisfaction, and said in a scarcely audible voice:
“Ah ha! Paca need not laugh at me now. We shall return to Cádiz in triumph.”
Finally we won the fight. The English perceived the impossibility of recapturing the Santa Ana when, besides the three ships already mentioned, two other Frenchmen and a frigate came up to her assistance in the very thick of the fray.
We were free, and by a glorious effort; but at the very moment of victory we saw most clearly the peril we were in, for the Santa Ana was now so completely disabled that we could only be towed into Cádiz. The French frigate Themis sent a cable on board and put her head to the North, but what could she do with such a deadweight in tow as the Santa Ana, which could do little enough to help herself with the ragged sails that still clung to her one remaining mast? The other ships that had supported her—the Rayo, the Montañes, and the San Francisco de Asís, were forced to proceed at full sail to the assistance of the San Juan and the Bahama, which were also in the hands of the English. There we were, alone, with no help but the frigate that was doing her best for us—a child leading a giant. What would become of us if the enemy—as was very probable—recovering from their repulse, were to fall upon us with renewed energy and reinforcements? However, Providence thought good to protect us; the wind favored us, and our frigate gently leading the way, we found ourselves nearing Cádiz.
Only five leagues from port! What an unspeakable comfort! Our miseries seemed ended; ere long we should set foot on terra firma, and though we brought news no doubt of a terrible disaster, we were bringing relief and joy to many faithful souls who were suffering mortal anguish in the belief that those who were returning alive and well had all perished.
The valor of the Spaniards did not avail to rescue any ships but ours, for they were too late and had to return without being able to give chase to the English ships that kept guard over the San Juan, the Bahama, and the San Ildefonso. We were still four leagues from land when we saw them making towards us. A southerly gale was blowing up and it was clear to all on board the Santa Ana that if we did not soon get into port we should have a bad time of it. Once more we were filled with anxiety; once more we lost hope almost in sight of safety, and when a few hours more on the cruel sea would have seen us safe and sound in harbor. Night was coming on black and angry; the sky was covered with dark clouds which seemed to lie on the face of the ocean, and the lurid flashes which lighted them up from time to time added terror to the gloom. The sea waxing in fury
