THE BATTLE of TRAFALGAR
The Gathering Storm:
By 1805 Britain stood in great danger of invasion by the French. Reinvigorated by the short peace declared between the two countries, an immense French military force had been mustered to embark in hundreds of barges specially built to make the short sea-crossing of the Dover Strait. In the encampments above Boulogne the troops of what was called the Army of England were constantly exercising. It was in the previous year that the French head of state, Napoleon Bonaparte had been elected Emperor of the French and he too was to be seen reviewing this vast array, by the sailors on the handful of Royal Navy ships that observed this military posturing. But Napoleon had also succeeded in drawing Spain into an alliance which added the Spanish fleet to that of France.
NAPOLEON BONAPARTE
1805 – THE THREAT OF INVASION:
Britain and France had been at war since 1793, except for a short truce between October 1801 and May 1803. The horrors of the French Revolution had terrified the governments of Europe into war, but the battlefield victories of the revolutionary armies, determined to export liberty, equality and fraternity, had gained an ascendancy ensuring French domination over most of Europe. While the British vainly attempted to establish Continental alliances, Napoleon’s coronation marked him as the dictator of events. Only the Strait of Dover and the Royal Navy stood between him and domination of Europe.
By mid-summer the French army was poised for embarkation with over 165,000 soldiers and 90,000 horses. Across the Dover Strait a nervous mood prevailed where the small regular army and a force of volunteers waited to be called to arms. For defence Britain looked to her navy
Napoleon waited for the Combined Fleet of France and Spain to sweep the Royal Navy from the English Channel.
THE CHASE:
In 1803 hostilities resumed and Nelson found himself back in the Mediterranean as Commander-in-Chief. Arriving at Toulon, Nelson was to blockade Villeneuve’s fleet for many months, but on 30th March 1805 the French fleet, under the command of Admiral Villeneuve, slipped out of Toulon and headed for Cadiz. Here it joined up with the Spanish fleet and disappeared into the Atlantic. Villeneuve’s intention was to sail across the Atlantic, release all the French and Spanish warships that were trapped by the British blockade of their bases in the West Indies and then sail north-east and appear in the Enclish Channel as an overwhelming force, reinforced by additinal French ships released from the port of Brest. The domination of the channel would allow the French Forces to invade England. The chance siting of the fleet by a British merchant ship put Nelson on its tracks and so began a desperate chase across the Atlantic. It took Villeneuve 34 days to reach the West Indies; it took Nelson only 24. But once again Villeneuve eluded his great adversary and set sail for Europe. Nelson ,who had no reliable information about what Villeneuve was up to, had to decide whether to stay in the West Indies and protect them from possible attack, or head back to Europe. He decided on the latter course and once more set across the Atlantic, south towards Gibraltar. Here he finally disembarked from the Victory and went on shore for the first time in almost two years.
The battle which should have been Nelson’s was fought by Sir Robert Calder, who intercepted Villeneuve’s fleet off Cape Finisterre. It was not a decisive battle and the British were disappointed.It was clear that no one but Nelson could destroy the French fleet.
BATTLE PLAN:
Nelson returned to England where he outlined a daring plan for the impending battle. He declared that the formal sea battle in which two lines of ships faced each other and fired cannon was useless. His plan was to sail at the enemy’s line in two groups and attack their ships at close quarters. He was sure that English officers and men would be more than a match for the ill prepared French and Spanish sailors. He was soon to have a chance to try out his plan. On 15th September 1805, he rejoined the Victory at Portsmouth and set sail for Cadiz where, 13 days later, he took command of the British fleet. In the harbour he could see the masts and yards of 36 enemy men-of-war, which Napoleon had now ordered to put to sea and if necessary fight
Lord Nelson BATTLE PLAN
Nelson led his fleet to a position 50 miles from Cadiz and waited.
Cadiz Bay and Cape of Trafalgar
Then on 19th October, he received the message: ‘ Enemy have their topsails hoisted’ in reply to which he signalled; ‘General chase south-east.’
THE BATTLE:
Two days later, on 21st October, Villeneuve lay halfway between Cape Trafalgar and the British. He gave orders for his fleet to get into line and the British scrambled into their two columns. With Admiral Collingwood in the Royal Sovereign leading one column, and Nelson in the Victory leading the other, they began to close on Villeneuve’s long crescent, now heading north.
Nelson, wearing his undress uniform, with the stars of his four Orders of Knighthood pinned to his chest, had been on the quarter deck of the Victory since dawn. Down below the men prepared for battle. Nelson ordered the hoisting of flags to signal: ‘ England expects that every man will do his duty.’
NELSON’S FAMOUS FLAG SIGNAL
For 20 minutes the Victory was under concentrated fire without being able to return a single shot. But then she passed close under the stern of Villeneuve’s flag ship, the Becentaure, and in one broadside she killed or wounded 400 men. More British ships surged through the broken French line and the general confusion which Nelson had planned rapidly developed. Admist the thunder of guns and the billowing of smoke, the rigging of the Victory became entangled with that of the French Redoubtable . Up on the mizzen top of the Redoubtable a French sharp shooter spotted the medals on Nelson’s chest some 40 ft below, and took careful aim. Seconds later, the Admiral fell to his knees, collapsed on his side.
As he was carried down to the blood stained cockpit, he knew he did not have long to live, but long enough to learn that the battle of Trafalgar was a great victory for the British. His last words were: ‘ Thank God-I have done my duty’.
Half an hour later there was a tremendous explosion, as one of the enemy ships blew up. It was a fitting end to a battle in which 18 ships of the combined Fleet were either destroyed or taken as prizes, while the British lost only a single ship.
The body of the man who made it all possible was put in a large cask filled with brandy. Buffeted by a great gale, the badly damaged Victory slowly carried Nelson on his last journey home.
This completes the heroic story of Lord Nelson and the Battle of Trafalgar. The intention of posting this theme is to let maritime philatelists know that this theme is a good theme for a one frame exhibit and to assure them that material exists for such an exhibit. Given below are PHQ cards on this theme released by GB- Royal Mail. Its use in a competitive exhibit is questionable and I am in doubt. Bloggers ,experts in the field of FIP rules in regard to applicability of philatelic items in an exhibit, may comment on this subject.
Acknowledgement for informatiom:
MEN-OF-WAR Life in Nelson’s Navy by Patrick O’Brian
DISCOVERY- Vol 31 A Marshall Cavendish Discovery Collection
U.K – Royal Mail Prestige Booklet released on 200th Death Anniversary of Lord Nelson , 21 October, 2005
INPUT FROM A MEMBER
Mr. Sekhar Chakrabarthi, an NPS Life member and a versatile flags on stamps philatelist, has sent in very informative article on the flag carried by HMS SPARTIATE during the battle of Trafalgar. He has two blogs concerning flags.
World’s most expensive Union Jack: Flag that flew at Battle of Trafalgar sells for record-breaking £384,000
By Daily Mail Reporter
Last updated at 7:55 AM on 22nd October 2009
The only surviving Union Jack from the Battle of Trafalgar yesterday sold for a staggering world record of £384,000 – nearly 40 times its estimate.
The huge flag, that is littered with holes from shot damage and still has a whiff of gunpowder, flew from the jackstaff of HMS Spartiate at the historic battle 204 years ago.After the victory over Napoleon’s French army, the crew lowered the flag and presented it to Lieutenant James Clephan for his outstanding performance.
An employee at the auction house holds the giant Union Jack, which was flown from HMS Spartiate at the Battle of Trafalgar on October 21 in 1805
Lieutenant Clephan was hugely respected among his men as he was one of only 16 out of 300,000 sailors who were press-ganged into the Royal Navy to rise through the ranks.
The 11ft by 7ft flag remained in his family after his death and was kept in a darkened draw to help preserve it.
His descendants decided to sell it after emigrating to Australia and it was given a pre-sale estimate of just £10,000.
But when it went under the hammer at auction in London today – Trafalgar Day – it was immediately met with fierce bidding, both in the room and from buyers around the world on the phone and internet.
The gavel eventually came down on an anonymous collector’s bid of £320,000.
With the 20 per cent buyer’s premium paid on top, the total paid for it is £384,000.
Mighty battle: This 1875 painting by John Callow shows a scene from the Battle of Trafalgar. The historic flag was presented to Lieutenant Clephan for his bravery in the conflict
This is believed to be a world record for any such Union Jack sold before.
It is not yet clear if the flag will remain in Britain or go abroad.
A spokesman for Charles Miller Auctions, who sold the standard, said: ‘We are hugely delighted and thrilled with the price, as are James Clephan’s family.

Riddled with bullet holes and reeking of gunpowder: The only surviving Union Jack from the Battle of Trafalgar sold for a record-breaking £384,000
‘It is way above anyone’s expectations but does reflect the historical importance of the flag and the battle it fluttered in 204 years ago today.’
The flag was made from 31 bunting panels by the crew of HMS Spartiate, which was the last ship in line behind Nelson’s HMS Victory as they took on the French at Trafalgar.
Spartiate was actually a French ship but was seized by the British at the Battle of the Nile in 1798.
Its lieutenant was James Clephan, from Fife in Scotland. He was pressed into the navy 1794 aged 26 and excelled as a seaman.
He was made a midshipman in 1801 and rose to lieutenant later that year for distinguishing himself in the successful capture of the French ship Chevrette.
After Trafalgar he was immediately promoted to first lieutenant and by the time his career in the navy finished he was captain of his own ship.
Mr Miller said: ‘The flag is one of the most important, historical items any collector could expect to handle.
‘The damage is probably from bullet holes or splinter fragments, but despite all this it is in amazing condition.
‘You can still even detect the smell that is ingrained within it.
‘Clephan is a remarkable and charismatic survivor from the great age of Georgian sail.
‘It was an incredible achievement for someone who had been pressed to rise to Captain.’
RICHARD PENDLEBURY REVEALS THE EXTRAORDINARY STORY BEHIND THE ONLY SURVIVING UNION JACK FROM NELSON’S EPIC BATTLE
On the most memorable day of his extraordinary career, it is unlikely Second Lieutenant James Clephan gave much thought to the Union Jack being shot to pieces on the jackstaff of his ship.
The enemy had closed on HMS Spartiate and chainshot shrieked just feet over Clephan’s head. Muskets crackled from the tops of the Spanish 80-gun Neptuno, whose own decks were running with blood.
The Spartiate’s gun crews were battering her mercilessly, their steady broadsides helping to drown the howls of the British injured and dying. Around Lt Clephan and his shipmates, the seascape off Cape Trafalgar offered any number of hellish scenes.
A single shot had raked the entire interior of the French battleship Bucentaure, killing or maiming 40 of its crew. Aboard the nearby British flagship Victory, Admiral Lord Nelson’s secretary had been cut in half by a cannonball. Eight marines on board were also butchered by a single Spanish barshot.
Some 4,000 sailors would be dead by the evening. William Beattie, the surgeon who treated the dying Nelson, had another 145 casualties to attend during the day.
Throughout the action, the tablecloth-size sewn patchwork of 31 red, white and blue strips, which had begun life as naval bunting, had fluttered at the bow of HMS Spartiate.
Musketry and shrapnel had rent it - but 204 years later it survives as a unique and enduring relic, not only of the greatest battle in the Royal Navy’s history but also of one of its most remarkable sailors.
Yesterday, it made £384,000 at auction following a decision by Clephan’s descendants to sell the only surviving Union Jack from that historic day. So how did it end up in Clephan’s possession? And what is the extraordinary story behind it?
Cape Trafalgar
Clephan was a poor man who never intended to go to sea. But fate, economic circumstance and his own personal courage conspired to place him on the quarterdeck of one of Admiral Lord Nelson’s men o’ war, off Cape Trafalgar in the autumn of 1805.
His life had begun 37 years earlier amid far less distinguished circumstances in Scoonie, Fife. As a boy, Clephan was apprenticed to a weaver in the cottage industry which flourished there in the mid-18th century.
But domestic looms were soon to be overtaken by the Industrial Revolution. Factories replaced cottages and the American Revolution of 1776 then took away one of the weavers’ major export markets.
Clephan was not alone in seeking alternative work. Coastal Fife has a rich tradition of producing sailors and it was to the sea that the young man turned. Initially, he joined the merchant fleet, but the Royal Navy soon sequestered his skills. Press gangs roamed Britain’s ports, looking for men to put before
the mast. Records show that on July 23, 1794, the ‘Impress Service’ caught up with Clephan, then 26.
Conditions below deck were harsh and naval discipline notoriously strict. Brutal floggings were commonplace and death the punishment for a wide number of offences.
But for Clephan this was to be the start of an extraordinary naval career. His first boat was the 26-gun Sibyl, aboard which he was rated an able-bodied 2nd Class Mate, reflecting some previous experience. By October 1796, he had been promoted to Master’s Mate, stowing his hammock aboard the 36-gun frigate Doris.
Capturing merchants
In 1800-01, HMS Doris, commanded by Captain John Holliday, made a thorough nuisance of herself to the French, capturing six merchant brigs and other prizes. During these cruises, Clephan must have impressed his captain, because in January 1801 he was made Midshipman.
By now he was in his early 30s and probably more than twice as old as some of his contemporaries. Nevertheless, his achievement was notable. Within seven years of being press-ganged, he was a junior officer and would be entitled to have ‘Mr’ before his name.
Greater glory and elevation were soon to follow. On the night of July 21, 1801, boats from the Doris rowed into the anchorage off the northern French port of Brest.
There, in the face of French opposition, a party of British sailors boarded the French corvette Chevrette.
After fierce fighting with cutlasses, the Chevrette’s cables were cut and she was sailed out of the bay to the waiting British squadron. It was a bloody little action.
Several of the British had arms cut off trying to board the Chevrette. By the time the fighting was over, three Royal Navy officers and nine men lay dead or dying. More than 50 were wounded.
But such daring merited promotion for those who led the way and survived. Among them was Midshipman Clephan – the first Briton to set foot on the enemy deck.
For this, he was immediately promoted to Second Lieutenant. The elevation was signed off by Admiral Cornwallis, who told Clephan: ‘You well deserve your promotion. Few officers have earned it so hardly.’
This could not be denied – both socially and physically, Clephan had overcome enormous obstacles and dangers to get so far. He was transferred to the 90-gun HMS Namur, where he served until the Peace of Amiens in 1802 brought Europe a respite from conflict.
But the calm did not last long. Clephan had enough time to marry before a resumption of hostilities with France saw him back at sea the following year aboard the 74-gun HMS Spartiate, a French-built ship that had been captured at the Battle of the Nile.
From her decks, Clephan would be afforded a front-row view of perhaps the most famous battle in naval history – Trafalgar. Spartiate had joined up with Nelson’s fleet when his pursuit of the Franco-Spanish force took him across the Atlantic and back. The two fleets finally met off the coast of south-west Spain.
‘England expects’
Nelson sent his immortal signal, ‘England expects that every man will do his duty’, and battle was joined. Bringing up the rear was Spartiate – with Clephan aboard – and Spartiate’s closest confederate, the 74-gun HMS Minotaur.
Being so far behind, they did not take part in the initial stages of the battle but, when ten enemy men o’ war attempted to turn and attack the British centre, including the battered Victory, the Spartiate and Minotaur were there to block their paths.
During the action, Spartiate and Minotaur took on the Spanish warship Neptuno, which was forced to surrender. Compared with other ships at Trafalgar, Spartiate’s ‘butcher’s bill’ was slight – only three men killed and 20 wounded.
Many thousands of British sailors had done their duty that day. After such an immense and total victory, there was a rash of promotions. Once again, James Clephan was foremost among them. He was immediately elevated to the rank of First Lieutenant.
He was not only a brave sailor, but a popular one. Spartiate’s crew, among whom Clephan was considered ‘one of our own’, presented him with the tatty Jack which had flown at the bow during the ship’s most famous action. It is possible that it had been stitched together by the Jack Tars, as the ratings were known.
In April 1811, Clephan was promoted again, to the rank of Commander, and given his first ship, the sloop Charybdis which saw action in the attempt to take New Orleans.
But in reality his fighting career was nearing its end. After the post-Waterloo peace of 1815, Clephan was paid off at Deptford and put on half pay.
By the time of his retirement, in 1840, he had achieved the rank of Captain. It is thought that James Clephan was one of only 16 men in Royal Navy history to have risen to this rank after being press-ganged.
Clephan died in Edinburgh in January 1851, aged 83. He had kept his flag, which still smelled of gunpowder, for almost half a century. The relic has passed down the generations until today.
For many years it has been kept in a darkened drawer to preserve it from further decay.
Yesterday, Trafalgar Day – October 21 – saw it change hands for the first time in more than two centuries.
The winning bid of £320,000 plus 20 per cent buyer’s premium was a huge increase on the expected sale price of £10,000. The cottage weaver from Fife, who never planned to go to sea, would have been amazed.
Clephan was a poor man who never intended to go to sea. But fate, economic circumstance and his own personal courage conspired to place him on the quarterdeck of one of Admiral Lord Nelson’s men o’ war, off Cape Trafalgar in the autumn of 1805.
His life had begun 37 years earlier amid far less distinguished circumstances in Scoonie, Fife. As a boy, Clephan was apprenticed to a weaver in the cottage industry which flourished there in the mid-18th century.
But domestic looms were soon to be overtaken by the Industrial Revolution. Factories replaced cottages and the American Revolution of 1776 then took away one of the weavers’ major export markets.
Clephan was not alone in seeking alternative work. Coastal Fife has a rich tradition of producing sailors and it was to the sea that the young man turned. Initially, he joined the merchant fleet, but the Royal Navy soon sequestered his skills. Press gangs roamed Britain’s ports, looking for men to put before
the mast. Records show that on July 23, 1794, the ‘Impress Service’ caught up with Clephan, then 26.
Conditions below deck were harsh and naval discipline notoriously strict. Brutal floggings were commonplace and death the punishment for a wide number of offences.
But for Clephan this was to be the start of an extraordinary naval career. His first boat was the 26-gun Sibyl, aboard which he was rated an able-bodied 2nd Class Mate, reflecting some previous experience. By October 1796, he had been promoted to Master’s Mate, stowing his hammock aboard the 36-gun frigate Doris.
Capturing merchants
In 1800-01, HMS Doris, commanded by Captain John Holliday, made a thorough nuisance of herself to the French, capturing six merchant brigs and other prizes. During these cruises, Clephan must have impressed his captain, because in January 1801 he was made Midshipman.
By now he was in his early 30s and probably more than twice as old as some of his contemporaries. Nevertheless, his achievement was notable. Within seven years of being press-ganged, he was a junior officer and would be entitled to have ‘Mr’ before his name.
Greater glory and elevation were soon to follow. On the night of July 21, 1801, boats from the Doris rowed into the anchorage off the northern French port of Brest.
There, in the face of French opposition, a party of British sailors boarded the French corvette Chevrette.
After fierce fighting with cutlasses, the Chevrette’s cables were cut and she was sailed out of the bay to the waiting British squadron. It was a bloody little action.
Several of the British had arms cut off trying to board the Chevrette. By the time the fighting was over, three Royal Navy officers and nine men lay dead or dying. More than 50 were wounded.
But such daring merited promotion for those who led the way and survived. Among them was Midshipman Clephan – the first Briton to set foot on the enemy deck.
For this, he was immediately promoted to Second Lieutenant. The elevation was signed off by Admiral Cornwallis, who told Clephan: ‘You well deserve your promotion. Few officers have earned it so hardly.’
This could not be denied – both socially and physically, Clephan had overcome enormous obstacles and dangers to get so far. He was transferred to the 90-gun HMS Namur, where he served until the Peace of Amiens in 1802 brought Europe a respite from conflict.
But the calm did not last long. Clephan had enough time to marry before a resumption of hostilities with France saw him back at sea the following year aboard the 74-gun HMS Spartiate, a French-built ship that had been captured at the Battle of the Nile.
From her decks, Clephan would be afforded a front-row view of perhaps the most famous battle in naval history – Trafalgar. Spartiate had joined up with Nelson’s fleet when his pursuit of the Franco-Spanish force took him across the Atlantic and back. The two fleets finally met off the coast of south-west Spain.
‘England expects’
Nelson sent his immortal signal, ‘England expects that every man will do his duty’, and battle was joined. Bringing up the rear was Spartiate – with Clephan aboard – and Spartiate’s closest confederate, the 74-gun HMS Minotaur.
Being so far behind, they did not take part in the initial stages of the battle but, when ten enemy men o’ war attempted to turn and attack the British centre, including the battered Victory, the Spartiate and Minotaur were there to block their paths.
During the action, Spartiate and Minotaur took on the Spanish warship Neptuno, which was forced to surrender. Compared with other ships at Trafalgar, Spartiate’s ‘butcher’s bill’ was slight – only three men killed and 20 wounded.
Many thousands of British sailors had done their duty that day. After such an immense and total victory, there was a rash of promotions. Once again, James Clephan was foremost among them. He was immediately elevated to the rank of First Lieutenant.
He was not only a brave sailor, but a popular one. Spartiate’s crew, among whom Clephan was considered ‘one of our own’, presented him with the tatty Jack which had flown at the bow during the ship’s most famous action. It is possible that it had been stitched together by the Jack Tars, as the ratings were known.
In April 1811, Clephan was promoted again, to the rank of Commander, and given his first ship, the sloop Charybdis which saw action in the attempt to take New Orleans.
But in reality his fighting career was nearing its end. After the post-Waterloo peace of 1815, Clephan was paid off at Deptford and put on half pay.
By the time of his retirement, in 1840, he had achieved the rank of Captain. It is thought that James Clephan was one of only 16 men in Royal Navy history to have risen to this rank after being press-ganged.
Clephan died in Edinburgh in January 1851, aged 83. He had kept his flag, which still smelled of gunpowder, for almost half a century. The relic has passed down the generations until today.
For many years it has been kept in a darkened drawer to preserve it from further decay.
Yesterday, Trafalgar Day – October 21 – saw it change hands for the first time in more than two centuries.
The winning bid of £320,000 plus 20 per cent buyer’s premium was a huge increase on the expected sale price of £10,000. The cottage weaver from Fife, who never planned to go to sea, would have been amazed.






















































































