A Sense of history is the real Victory

Last updated at 11:32 13 April 2005

The child stood on the spot where Nelson was hit. A rainstorm had made people run off the deck of HMS Victory, so he was almost alone. The brass plaque showed the exact place on the quarter deck. The child jumped up and down on the plaque. Now the father read from a book.

'Lord Nelson was killed by a musket ball from a French sniper.' The word 'killed' always makes children pay attention. If it comes with mental pictures of blood and agony, that's even better.

'Did he have his head blown off?' Ryan, aged eight, asked his father.

'Not everybody has his head blown off,' the boy was told.

Then the story was explained and the Battle of Trafalgar, a majestic day in the wonderful calendar of this country's history, came alive. Ryan could not get enough. His school was near Kingsworthy, Winchester, and just about every child there had been to Victory. This was his turn. His father, Kieran, was taking a few days off work because Ryan had some holiday time to fill.

When the rain stopped, people climbed back on deck. There were 100 children at least. The next big group were the elderly, struggling with steep steps. The ship was alive.

On October 21, it will be 200 years since the greatest of all admirals died after that sniper shattered his spine.

Ryan tried to lift a cannonball, but only managed to move it. Did you know anything about Nelson before your father told you, he was asked. He certainly did, he said. There were posters on the school wall.

What do you know about Nelson then? 'He was a titch.' He was right. Nelson was only 5ft 4in. Kieran was proud this was known.

Simon Willerton was acting as guide. A survey had said more than half of all schoolchildren had never heard of Nelson, he was told.

'That's not our experience on the ship itself. Watch the faces coming up the gangplank. Watch for the excitement,' he said.

Kieran said he would like to know just where the children who didn't know about Nelson came from.

'Can't say it any more, can you, but I'll bet a fair few of them weren't born here.' That sort of thing always upset statistics, is what he thought. Another guide, Terrence Hill, lifted a small cannonball and gave it to a boy. He could manage the 12lb, but not the one at the far end which was almost 60lb.

'These guns were fired at point blank range,' Simon said. 'I mean point blank: 20ft from the enemy ship, as close as 6ft or even touching.' The children were mesmerised by stories of exploding decks and sailors cut to shreds by huge shards of shattering wood.

Terrence Hill walked the deck, explaining. 'Were any French killed?' a small boy shouted.

'Oh, most certainly,' Terrence said. 'Many thousands more than British. It was a great day for us.'

Blair would seethe and grind his teeth to hear such patriotism. He had to have his arm twisted to support any Royal Navy involvement in the anniversary at all.

Blair should be made to walk Victory's old decks and listen to the little hearts beating with pride.

Even some of the 12-year-olds had to duck under the beams of the lower gun decks. 'How small were the sailors in those days?'

Terrence turned. 'That's the one - the most-asked question from all the people who ever come to see Victory,' he said.

'In fact, they weren't much smaller. The decks were built so low to give stability to the ship when the 104 guns were firing.' Epic accounts of Nelson's life raked the Victory like a broadside.

'If they didn't feel his heroics when they came aboard, they will by the time they leave,' Terrence said.

Back in school, Ryan said the boys kept talking about rats. 'There were rats here all right,' Terrence said to a bunch of children with huge eyes and blue and grey uniforms.

How did they get rid of them? 'In a very special kind of way,' he said, with a smile starting to beam. 'Come on . . . you boys and girls must have heard of ratatouille.' An old fellow found the steep stairs a problem. He had to pull hard on the handrail and pass up his walking stick. There were big gulps of breath at the top. Seeing the schoolchildren enjoying themselves cured it.

'Wonderful they're so interested,' he said, with pleasure. 'The emphasis seems to be to destroy the memory or, at best, to hide our history.'

No one had a chance to hide anything from the group on board. 'Please, how did they get Nelson back to England?' A guide told them it was in a barrel of brandy.

The children went wild. 'Did they drink the brandy afterwards?'

'I bet they tried,' they were told. More rain made people hurry down to the lower decks. The ship was all about guns. Nelson slept with a big cannon at his feet and one next to his head. The noise of battle stunned your brain and the smell was like anaesthetic.

Ryan had roamed for two hours. Now, tired, he was being edged towards the car park. He had his picture taken through the grey light with Victory right behind him.

Enjoy it? 'Terrific,' he decided.

Also he learned some history, his father said. Which isn't this Government's idea at all. Because apologising for the events of history is what they're really keen on.