As the British fleet gained the open sea it formed up in order of sailing, Hood's squadron leading.
Nothing could be seen of the enemy from the fleet. Not even from the mast-head was a glimpse of the French to be got. Touch, though, was well maintained by the frigates, who kept Rodney continuously informed of the course the enemy were taking. Diamond Rock, a solitary haystack-shaped mass off the Morne du Diamant, the south-western point of Martinique, began to rise on the sea-line ahead towards three o'clock. Half-an-hour later they could make out the bluff shoulder of Cape Solomon, on the southern side of Fort Royal Bay. Nothing of the enemy, though, was visible even from the mast-head of the battle-fleet, until, at eight minutes after four. Hood's ship, theBarfleur, flagship of the van squadron, suddenly made a signal that she saw them. Enthusiastic cheers burst out in response from ship to ship all down the line. From theFormidable, farther astern, they did not get their first sight of the enemy until nearly two hours later, not long before sunset. Then they sighted five strange sail on the horizon to the north-west, 'which we suppose,' says theFormidable'slog, 'to be part of the French fleet.' Darkness came on soon after that. 'During the night,' says Sir Charles Douglas, 'we followed them, under as much canvas as we could in prudence carry, the wind blowing very fresh at N.E. by E.'
CHART SHOWING RODNEY'S PURSUIT OF DE GRASSE, AND THE ENGAGEMENTS OF APRIL 9 AND 12
At nine o'clock one of the headmost of thefrigates, dropping back from the van, hailed theFormidableto the effect that they had De Grasse's lights well in view. By midnight the enemy's signal-flares were distinctly visible from the British flagship, and an occasional signal-gun was heard. At two in the morning (the 9th of April) theSt. Albansdropped back alongside theFormidableand hailed across that she and theValiant, sailing to windward, had seen the enemy's lights. TheFormidablehad sighted them for herself just before. Satisfied with the progress made, Rodney now brought the fleet to. Daylight was wanted for the next move.
Clear daylight came about half-past five. It disclosed the entire force of the enemy, both men-of-war and convoy. They were full in sight to the north-east, an irregular array of ships stretching along under the high land of Dominica, and from six to twelve miles off. The leading French ships were trying to weather the northernmost point of the island and work round into the stretch of open water between Dominica and the next island to northward, Guadeloupe, but their progress was slow. Since midnight the wind had fallen away until it was now nearly a dead calm. The bulk of De Grasse's ships were lying off Prince Rupert's Bay with barely steerage way. Rodney, farther to seaward, was in like case. Until nearly seven o'clock it was impossible to move on eitherside. Then there came a change. Towards seven o'clock the sea-breeze from the north-east, blowing through the channel between Dominica and Guadeloupe, began to reach Hood's ships at the head of the British line. The breeze carried Hood forward and out into the channel; but at the same time it caused him to break away and separate from his own fleet. Rodney himself with the whole of the British centre, and Drake with the rear squadron, were left at some distance astern, beyond the reach of the breeze. They remained unable to get clear of the belt of calm under the lee of Dominica.[24]A gap was formed in the British line as Hood was swept more and more ahead, and it widened rapidly.
The opportunity was too good for De Grasse to miss. He had the windward berth, and fourteen or fifteen of his ships, helped by the same breeze that carried Hood forward, were simultaneously getting clear of the island and into the channel. Only eight ships were with Hood. De Grasse saw a chance of dealing his opponent a telling blow by crippling Hood before the British centre and rear squadrons could move to his support. He signalled to De Vaudreuil, who led the French line, to bring Hood's isolated squadron to action at once.
An incident of the most exciting and extra-ordinary kind occurred while De Vaudreuil, who well knew what kind of action his leader intended him to fight, was preparing to carry out his orders. Two French ships, to leeward of the rest, attempted to cut across the head of Hood's ships, which were sailing in close order at one cable interval. The two had got separated from their consorts during the night, and were taking the nearest way to rejoin. One of them shirked coming to close quarters, and made a sweep round well ahead of Hood. The other, in the coolest and most insolent way, stood directly for the leader of the British column. She approached deliberately and aggressively, and came on as though she did not care if she came into collision with anybody or not. Her ports were closed down, her ensign staff showed no colours. On the reckless Frenchman came, and the next instant, to the astonishment of the whole squadron, theAlfred, Hood's leading ship, herself gave way, and sheered out of line. TheAlfredbore up to allow the enemy's seventy-four to pass. The amazing display of impudence was attended with complete impunity. Everything was done in dumb show. Not a gun went off on either side. Hood's men in the eight ships were all at quarters and ready, fidgeting with suppressed excitement but in hand. Their guns were pointed and run out and all training on the Frenchmen—yet not a shot was, or could be,fired. No signal to 'commence action' had gone up. Until it did, until the red flag broke at theFormidable'sforetopmast-head, no captain dared begin. Why Rodney delayed the signal was inexplicable. TheFormidablewas between five and six miles from Hood at that moment; but on board the flagship they must have seen what was taking place. At any rate it was a fine display of British discipline. In breathless silence the French ship forged slowly past theAlfred'sbroadside, every gun of which was kept pointed on her, training round and following her as she went by. She made no sign, but held stolidly on for her own fleet, until she had reached a safe distance from the British ships. Then, as if in bravado, the French captain hauled his ports up, ran his guns out, and displayed his colours. Immediately afterwards theFormidablemade the signal—'Engage.'
De Vaudreuil at the same moment opened his attack—such as it was. He had had his instructions from De Grasse as to the sort of attack he was to deliver. It was not to be pressed home. No risks were to be run. Hood was to be dealt with by long-range fire from the French 36-pounders, and his ships dismasted and crippled, the French ships themselves meanwhile keeping off as much as possible out of harm's way. With fifteen ships to the British eight, De Grasse anticipated being able to handle Hood so roughly that Rodney would be forced after the fight to stop behind to attend to the repairs of his second in command's squadron, which would let him go on his way to San Domingo without further interference. That was what was in the French admiral's mind. De Grasse would not see that he had only to go one step farther. The gods had favoured him, the odds were all on his side: a little boldness, a little of thefuria franceseat point-blank range, and Rodney's whole fleet would be out of action for the rest of the campaign. Had De Vaudreuil made use of his superiority on the spot and attacked Hood vigorously at close quarters, there would have been no question of repairs. Hood's squadron would have ceased to exist as a fighting force: twenty-five per cent of Rodney's total strength would have been shorn away at one stroke.[25]When De Vaudreuil began firing, the nearest ships of Rodney's squadron were four miles from Hood, and still becalmed; Admiral Drake and the rear squadron, all also becalmed, were from ten to twelve miles off. It was ananxious moment for the British, until they saw how things were shaping themselves.
De Vaudreuil attacked in a very clever fashion, with a remarkably artistic display of minor tactics. He circled his ships round and round and blazed away with a continuous fire on his opponent, who kept a close line for most of the time, with main-topsails to the mast. At times two or three of the French ships—sometimes, indeed, more—were firing at once on individual British ships. TheBarfleur, we are told, 'had at one time seven and generally three ships upon her.'[26]Hood remained very little the worse for his hammering, and after three-quarters of an hour's firing De Vaudreuil gave over for a time.
The attack was renewed a little before noon with some fresh ships. The breeze had reached the French main body, enabling De Grasse and three-quarters of his fleet to arrive on the scene. It also brought up some of the headmost ships of Rodney's own squadron, theFormidableamong them, but these were far fewer than the French, who throughout had a superiority within the fighting zone of nearly two to one. The rear division of Rodney's squadron and the whole of Drake's still remained becalmed a long way astern. Once again De Grasse refused to seize his chance and push his advantage home. 'Had the Frenchfleet come down as they ought,' said Rodney, 'in all probability half my fleet would have suffered extremely; but they, as usual, kept an awful distance, and only made a cannonade!'[27]For upwards of an hour and a half the firing went on, and then it ceased for the day. Rodney's rear division and Drake's ships had at last got a breeze and were beginning to work up into action. On seeing that, De Grasse broke off the fighting abruptly and drew off out of range. His half-hearted game had failed entirely. None of Hood's ships had suffered damage that could not be repaired at sea within twenty-four hours. On the other hand, the straight shooting of Hood's gunners, long as the range had been, had severely mauled some of De Vaudreuil's ships. On board theFormidable, in the short time she was in action, three men were killed and ten wounded; the killed including an officer. Lieutenant Hill—'my best lieutenant,' as Rodney called him.
De Grasse employed the afternoon in working to windward towards the Saints, a group of islets about six miles to southward of Guadeloupe. Rodney, after reversing the order of his line so as to bring Drake's fresh ships to the van and place Hood's squadron in rear, hove-to in order to give the damaged ships an opportunity for attending to their repairs.
They remained hove-to until daybreak next morning (Wednesday, the 10th of April), when once more Rodney took up the chase. The French were in sight, some twelve miles off. All day Rodney chased hard, beating up against a stiff north-easterly breeze. The French admiral showed no disposition to turn on his pursuers and fight. 'The French,' wrote Rodney, 'always had it in their power to come into action, which they cautiously avoided.' De Grasse held on his course, and gaining steadily during the day led by fifteen miles at nightfall. He was by then near the Saints. Rodney's last signal before sunset was 'General chase,' so as to give his ships every chance of doing their best independently. There was little fear of missing the enemy. Throughout the night the flashes of the French signal-guns and their signal-flares and false fires were plainly visible.
In spite of Rodney's efforts, however, the French gained on him in the night. To the British admiral's bitter disappointment, on Thursday morning the enemy were nearly out of sight. Only a few of their ships were to be seen. De Grasse, indeed, had secured so long a lead that already a large part of his fleet had weathered the Saints. It looked, in fact, as though the enemy were going to get away clear after all. Rodney, however, was not a man to despair. 'Persist andconquer,' was, as he himself said, his favourite maxim in war. He held doggedly on, trusting to the chapter of accidents. It was, no doubt, all he could do. Anyway, as events proved, it was the right thing.
He had his reward, and before he had waited very long. Early in the afternoon two of De Grasse's ships were made out to be in difficulties. They had dropped astern of the French line and to leeward, and were drifting in the direction of the course of the advancing British. During Wednesday night theZélé, a seventy-four, had collided with another French ship, losing her main-topmast in the collision. Unable to make good her damage, after trying in vain to keep up with her consorts, the unfortunate vessel had dropped gradually to leeward, in company with theMagnanime, also a seventy-four, whose foreyard had been carried away in tacking. The two ships were several miles to leeward of the French fleet when, early in the afternoon, they came under Rodney's attention. At that time they were still a long way to windward of the weathermost of the British fleet, but their situation offered Rodney an opening. Supposing he made a show of trying to cut the two French ships off—how would De Grasse take it? Would he turn back and come to the rescue? Rodney felt sure that he would. De Grasse, he was positive, would never let twoof his ships be snapped up by an enemy in full view of his own fleet without making an effort to save them. That being so, there could only be one outcome. 'I flattered myself,' said Rodney, 'he would give me an opportunity of engaging next day.'
The signal to chase the two ships was made at once, and within a few minutes the weathermost of the British ships were drawing out directly towards them. They were Rodney's fliers, and they sailed fast. They 'gained on the French so fast that the two French ships,' according to Sir Charles Douglas, who was watching the chase from the quarter-deck of theFormidable, 'began to make signals for help to three or four of the enemy, all then in sight from the mast-head.' That was just what Rodney wanted. What he hoped for followed. De Grasse could not stand by and see two of his ships cut off. The French admiral, observing the signals of distress, went about and bore down to the rescue under full sail. 'De Grasse,' said Captain Douglas, describing the afternoon's work, 'bore downen corps, our chasers still menacing their game until the Count's headmost ships had got very near them, when they and the rest of the fleet were recalled into close order by signal.'[28]By five o'clock De Grasse hadlost all the advantage of position that he had toiled so hard to secure during the past two days. He saved his two ships, and he was still to windward; but it was more than an even chance now that Rodney would be able to force on a battle next day. 'I hope we shall do most effective business to-morrow,' were Hood's words in a note to Rodney that evening.
Rodney made it his business that De Grasse should not have the chance of evading battle on the morrow. With that one aim he issued his orders for the night. He saw his way to outman[oe]uvre the French under cover of the dark. All lights on board every ship were to be dowsed except one lantern at the stern of theAmerica, told off as the 'guide of the fleet.' On a signal, given from theFormidableafter dark, the whole fleet, in order of sailing and under press of canvas, was to stand to the south, 'which was away from the French,' until two o'clock in the morning. Then, on a gun signal from theFormidable, all would tack together and beat up until daylight.
Everything turned out exactly as Rodney anticipated. From the British fleet they marked the flashes of De Grasse's signal-guns from time to time during the night, and could guess what he was doing. The French admiral, on the other hand, saw nothing and heard nothing of the British fleet. He had not the least idea of Rodney'swhereabouts all the night through, and was immensely surprised when daylight showed up the complete success of Rodney's clever move. 'We had no conception,' said one of De Grasse's officers afterwards, 'that the British fleet could be so near.'
Rodney at daybreak was asleep in his cabin. Having set things in train, he had lain down to get what rest he might before the fateful morrow came. He had not been able to sleep at all for anxiety during the three previous nights. The admiral was sleeping peacefully when, a little before half-past five, Sir Charles Douglas entered the cabin and awoke Rodney with the news that 'God had given him his enemy on the lee bow!'
Rodney was on deck a very few minutes later. It was broad daylight. This is the situation as it presented itself before Rodney's eyes that morning. The British fleet in line ahead, not a ship out of station, was steering east-north-east on the starboard tack. The wind was from the south-east. Right ahead lay the open channel between Dominica and Guadeloupe, divided by the chain of islets known as 'the Saints'—Columbus's name for them in commemoration of their discovery on All Saints' Day. They lay off the south end of Martinique, six miles from shore, with, on the other side, between them and Dominica, a wide space of open water, fifteen miles across—'The Saints' Passage,' as it was called. Prince Rupert'sBay in Dominica lay some miles away on Rodney's starboard beam. The enemy were to the north-east of the British fleet, as Douglas had said, 'broad on the lee bow.' They were out of formation, a straggling array of ships, making towards the south on the port tack and pointing diagonally across the Saints' Passage.[29]The French had had a bad night and were widely separated. Most of their ships were far off on the horizon, nearly twelve miles away. A small group of five or six ships, with a big three-decker in the midst of them, were not more than eight miles from Rodney. That, however, was not all. Rodney, after his first glance ahead, turned his attention in another direction. What he saw was enough to astonish him. There, under his very eyes, by an extraordinary chance, the situation of yesterday afternoon was repeating itself. Dead to leeward of the British fleet, and only five or six miles off, were two isolated French ships. One was a seventy-four, with her foremast down and bowsprit gone. The other was a frigate, which had the crippled ship in tow. The two were going offbefore the wind, apparently bound for Basse Terre, Guadeloupe.
There had been another collision in the French fleet. The haplessZélé, whose earlier misfortunes had been the cause of De Grasse turning back on Thursday afternoon, had during the previous night had a second collision. While tacking shortly after midnight, she had blundered clumsily into theVille de Pariswith disastrous consequences. In her present state theZéléwas a danger to his fleet, and De Grasse told off La Pérouse of theAstréeto tow the crippled ship off at once into Basse Terre. It proved, though, for one reason and another, not so easy a thing to do in the dark, and the first streaks of dawn were showing before the towing-cable had been got across. After that, when at length the two moved away they crawled off dead slow, making barely five knots. All the time, ever since midnight, the wind and set of the tide had been carrying not only theZéléand theAstrée, but also theVille de Parisand the half-dozen ships with her that were standing by, steadily to leeward, away from the main body of the French fleet, and ever nearer to the course on which Rodney, in the dark, all unknown to De Grasse, was fast approaching. The French had entirely lost touch with Rodney since sunset, owing to his having put out his lights.
From theFormidable'squarter-deck Rodney marked the situation of theZélé. He saw what it meant. A flutter of signal-flags broke overhead, and within two minutes four of Hood's smartest ships—theMonarch,Valiant,Centaur, and theBelliqueux—were sweeping out of the line with all sail set, heading straight for theZéléand the frigate. De Grasse saw it. To lose theZélélike that would be a personal disgrace; but that was not all the mischief. The great De Bouillé himself, Commander-in-Chief of the French army, was on board theAstrée. It was terribly awkward. De Grasse at once signalled to his fleet in the distance to make all sail and close on theVille de Paris, forming line on the port tack.[30]He himself meanwhile with the ships nearest him bore down towards the British four to frighten them off. That was just the false step that Rodney wanted him to take—the outcome of "an impulse of hasty unbalanced judgment."[31]By another move he might have forced Rodney to recall his chasers before they could reach theZélé, at the same time also keeping the weather-gage for himself. By hurrying down under sail ahead of his fleet De Grasse not only delayed the formation of his line, as his ships had the farther to go to reach their stations, but healso carried his fleet bodily to leeward and within Rodney's reach. A worse blunder still was the forming line on the port tack—the opposite to that on which Rodney was standing. By continuing on the port tack, the French, after the first exchange of fire in the open channel, could not help running into the belt of calms and variable airs off the coast of Dominica, which would render further man[oe]uvring on their part impossible. It was a glaring blunder, and his own fleet saw it. 'What evil genius,' exclaimed De Vaudreuil's flag-captain, Du Pavillon, who had the reputation of being one of the ablest officers in the French navy, as he read off the flags at theVille de Paris'smast-head with his glass, 'What evil genius has inspired the admiral!'
When the French had come far enough to leeward to suit his purpose, Rodney recalled his chasing ships and went to breakfast.
The men had already breakfasted, and every ship was ready, cleared for action: the decks were rid of unnecessary gear and sanded down, the yards slung and sheets stoppered, fire screens rigged, the guns cast loose, and run out, the galley fires extinguished and the magazines opened. On board theFormidableduring these preliminary moments, Sir Charles Douglas with Captain Symonds went round below and inspected the gun-locks throughout the ship and the supplies of quillpriming tubes—eighty tubes with a couple of Kentish flints to each gun.
The Admiral's breakfast party, we are told, sat down in a very cheerful and confident mood. Douglas of course formed one of the party, and Captain Symonds; Paget the admiral's secretary. Dr. Blane, and the flag-lieutenant were the others. One chair was vacant, that of Lord Cranstoun. Lord Cranstoun was remaining behind on deck to watch the movements of the enemy. When the others were half-way through the meal he came hurrying into the cabin with the announcement that the course on which they were standing must carry them through the enemy's line. Everybody glanced at Rodney expecting him to say something;—but the admiral made no remark and calmly went on with his meal.
When they went on deck again after breakfast the enemy had hauled up rather nearer to the wind than before, but were still standing on the port tack and heading to cross the bows of the British fleet. De Grasse's line was not yet formed. The ships farthest off when the French Admiral first made his signal had not yet had time to join, though they were hastening down with all sail set.
The spectacle at every point was inspiring, and was girt round by a magnificent setting. On one hand, right ahead, the Saints' group stretched away to the north-east, islet beyond islet, allshowing up clear in the golden sunshine of the cloudless morning against the towering darker background of the Souffrière of Guadeloupe. On the horizon, due east, a faint greyish-blue blur marked the low-lying island of Marie Galante. Away on the starboard beam and not far distant the mountain masses of Dominica, crowned by the jagged volcanic summit of the mighty Diablotin, the loftiest peak of the Antilles, overtopped the scene and closed in the view. 'If superior beings,' wrote Dr. Blane, 'make a sport of the quarrels of mortals, they could not have chosen a better theatre for the magnificent exhibition.'[32]
The fleets in themselves afforded a spectacle in keeping with the surroundings. Nothing could have been finer than the show they made that morning: nearly eighty men-of-war all told, three-deckers, two-deckers, and frigates in battle array, their lofty canvas glinting white in the bright sunshine, with gleaming yellow sides, tiers on tiers of ports, wide open with the red port-lids lashed back showing the brass muzzles of the shotted guns, all gliding forward in stately order across a placid sea of the deepest blue, shimmering under a cloudless sky.
The Blue Ensign led the British line, the colours of Drake's squadron; twelve ships all with blue ensigns at the stern. The White Ensign wasin the centre, waving over theFormidableand her division of twelve; Rodney's own colour as admiral of the White. Hood's twelve in rear wore the Red Ensign, Hood being a flag officer of the Red. On the French side, Bougainville led with the 'Escadre Bleue,' De la Clochetterie having the post of honour in the van ship. De Grasse himself, with the 'Cornette Blanche' at the mast-head of the mightyVille de Paris, was in the centre. De Vaudreuil with the 'Blanche et Bleu' at the fore, the service term for the parti-coloured flag that French seconds-in-command flew, brought up the rear.[33]
After calling in his chasers Rodney closed his fleet to one cable interval all along the line. His van ships continued meanwhile to lead obliquely across the course that the French were steering, making towards the spot where, as both sides could see, the two lines were bound to intersect. The headmost ships of the French fleet passed over thespot first; just, it so happened, as the leading ships of the British fleet came within range. For that the French had been watching. As soon as they saw that their shots could reach the enemy they opened fire.
De Grasse did not intend, if he could help it, to fight a pitched battle. It was not his policy to fight the battle out. Since he must fight he would confine the day's proceedings to a mere passing cannonade, after which he would work to windward and slip away. He knew he had the heels of Rodney; the events of the past two days had shown that. Thus at the last moment De Grasse thought he might snatch a strategical advantage in the great game. His gunners, however, did not shoot straight enough. They failed to do the execution among Rodney's masts and spars that their admiral hoped for. The British fleet came steadily on with little to show by way of damage except a few rope-ends dangling loose and some shot-holes through the sails.
TheMarlborough, a powerful 74, one of the finest men-of-war that Deptford dockyard ever sent to sea, led the line. She kept her helm steady and held her way forward without checking for an instant, unswerving, regardless of the storm of shot that hurtled overhead or splashed in the sea alongside. Taylor Penny, theMarlborough'scaptain, a gallant son of Dorset and a veterannow serving in his third war, was not the man to mind a cannonade. TheMarlboroughstood on silently until she had come within 150 yards of the French line. Then, when nearly opposite the fifth ship from the enemy's van, her helm went swiftly up and the ship's huge bulk swung round to port. The next minute she began to range along the enemy broadside on, in the opposite direction to that the French were taking. Not a shot had come from theMarlborough'sports all this time. Four French ships in turn passed her and fired at her, but Captain Penny took no notice. The flagship had made no sign. No order to 'commence action' had been given. Every telescope on board was kept fixed on theFormidable, while below the captains of the guns fidgeted impatiently with the firing lanyards. They had to practise patience. Eight bells clanged out on board the silentMarlborough, and still they waited. Then, instantaneously the signal was made. TheFormidable'ssignal halyards were seen to twitch, and a little ball of bunting slid swiftly aloft to the mast-head. There was a jerk, and the next instant the red flag for battle—the 'bloody flag,' as the navy called it—was 'abroad,' flying out upon the breeze. It went up just as theMarlboroughcame abreast of the FrenchDauphin Royal, the ninth ship in De Grasse's line, and as the flag 'broke' theMarlborough'sopening broadside flashed offwith a thundering crash, guns, carronades, and musketry all together.
The British ships nearest astern of theMarlboroughopened fire at the same moment. Each in her station, a cable's length apart, they had been following close in theMarlborough'swake, equally ready and eager to begin.
There were sixteen ships in the line between theMarlboroughand theFormidable, each 200 yards apart (the length of a cable), and the men of Rodney's flagship had to wait some little time yet for their turn. Their eyes, though, had something to look at, for most of the ships ahead of them were full in their view meanwhile. What they saw was worth seeing.
TheArrogant, a veteran 74 of the Seven Years' War time, backed theMarlboroughup; an exceptionally ugly customer for an enemy to tackle, for her guns were fitted with all the newest improvements,—locks, tubes, and sweep-pieces,—and her men knew how to make the best of them. Captain Douglas, watching theArrogantfrom theFormidable, noted that he saw her firing three broadsides to the enemy's one—one broadside meeting the enemy as they came up; the second right into their ports as they passed; the third a slashing good-bye salute, training three-quarters aft into the Frenchmen's stern. Some of the enemy struck back savagely as theArrogantwentby, but the tough Suffolk oak of the old ship's timbers could take hard knocks, and the Harwich dockyard-men's work came through the hammering little the worse. TheAlcide, Captain Charles Thomson, followed next, a British-built model of one of old 'Dreadnought' Boscawen's prizes, whose French name she had also taken; then theNonsuch, Captain Truscott; and theConqueror, Captain George Balfour, a gallant Scot who had won post-rank for an act of exceptional daring in battle five-and-twenty years before.
These five 74's headed the British fleet and 'broke the bowling.' They ranged forward alongside the French within pistol-shot, 'sliding down slowly,' as Captain Douglas, looking on from theFormidable'squarter-deck, described it. They passed parallel to the French and to leeward, on the opposite tack, from the ninth ship of the enemy to their rear ship, exchanging fire with every ship of the enemy, one after the other as each came by, until they had passed and overlapped the end of the French line. Forward they went, ship following ship, keeping exact station and each lashing out, broadside after broadside, into the enemy as they swept along, as fast as the powder could be brought to the guns.
Admiral Drake followed in the wake of theConqueror, with thePrincessa, an ex-Spanish two-decker, a 70-gun ship, but bigger than Hood'sBarfleur, one of the prizes that Rodney had made in his moonlight battle with Langara off Cape St. Vincent that wild January midnight two years before when he was on his way to relieve Gibraltar. The bigPrince George(Captain Williams), a giant 98-gun three-decker, the hardest hitter of the van squadron in weight of metal, seconded Drake.
Keppel's pet ship, the ever-ready oldTorbay, came next in the line, with, astern of her, the Anson, a small 64, Captain William Blair—to-day, poor fellow, in his last fight. In the heat of the action a round-shot, sweeping some three feet above the deck, struck Captain Blair at the waist, smashing his body right in two and carrying half of it across the deck and up against the bulwarks on the farther side. The van squadron was completed by theFame, 74, and theRussell, Captain James Saumarez, the famous admiral of later days, then a young post-captain twenty-five years old, whom a stroke of unexpected good luck a few weeks before had transferred from a small fireship to the quarter-deck of one of the best line-of-battle ships in Rodney's fleet.
Each ship as she reached the spot at which her immediate leader had turned put her helm up sharply and ranged along in the wake of the ship next ahead, firing into every Frenchman that she passed, keeping meanwhile her leader's three mastsin one and checking her distance with the sextant. That was at the outset, as they came round and steadied into line alongside the enemy. As the firing became general the smoke, rolling heavily down from windward, smothered the British ships in a dense fog and blanketed them in, shutting out the view all round, except now and again as a glimpse ahead was caught in an occasional rift here and there.
Rodney's squadron followed Drake's without a break. TheAmerica, Captain Thompson, led them, a cable's length astern of theRussell. Her name is out of the Navy List now, but it had a meaning of its own in those days, commemorating as it did a former gift of a man-of-war to Great Britain by those colonists of North America who had become since then her deadliest foes.
TheHercules, 74, commanded by a 'character' of the day, Captain Henry Savage, came next. Her captain's doings that morning were of peculiar interest. Savage took his ship into action with two ensigns up, one nailed to the staff, the other at the peak, with the halyards so belayed that the flag could not easily be hauled down. Beyond a casual gun, he would not let a shot be fired until he had come right abreast of the French admiral. Then he opened with a full broadside into theVille de Paris, every gun double-shotted, at less than 50 yards. Not thirty secondselapsed between the first gun and the last, said theHercules'first lieutenant. As the men reloaded, Captain Savage, who, a martyr to gout, had been sitting in an arm-chair on deck waving his hat and calling out uncomplimentary epithets to the Frenchmen as he passed each ship, forgetting his pain in his excitement, jumped on an arm chest and struck up a line of a song of the day—
Oh! what a charming thing's a battle!
Once she had passed theVille de Paristhere was no more holding back on board theHercules. They fired as fast as the guns could be loaded and run out, using rammers that Captain Savage himself had invented for quick loading. 'Her side,' said the officers of the ship astern of theHercules, 'was in a constant blaze.' Captain Savage, who had resumed his arm-chair, soon afterwards received a bad wound, and had to be taken to the cockpit. As he went below he told his officers 'to point between wind and water and sink the d—d rascals!' He returned on deck in a few minutes and sat the battle out bandaged up, fixed in his arm-chair, which was set by the ship's side in the gangway, and shouting out expletives as before. As theHerculescleared the rear of the French fleet, Captain Savage luffed up directly into the wake of the enemy, at right angles to their line, and by way of a parting kick sent a raking lastbroadside crash into the rearmost French ship's cabin windows as she disappeared in the smoke.
Captain Buckner'sProthée, a 64, taken from the French two years before, followed theHerculesin the line, and after her came the smartResolution, 74. The captain of theResolution, Lord Robert Manners, was the first on board her to fall. A round-shot struck him down, smashing his left leg and injuring the right badly, and at the same moment a heavy splinter fractured his right arm. Lord Robert was carried down to the cockpit, where it was found necessary to amputate his left leg, the heroic young officer—he was only twenty-four and chloroform or anæsthetics of any kind were as yet unknown—'making jocular remarks on the operation with a smiling countenance during its most painful steps.'[34]Captain Manners' injuries unfortunately proved mortal. He seemed to be getting better, and was on his way home in the frigate that carried Rodney's despatches, when mortification suddenly set in, and he was dead within twenty-four hours. 'I would rather have lost two seventy-fours than Lord Robert Manners,' King George is reported to have said when His Majesty received the news of the death.A monument to him, conjointly with Captains Bayne of theAlfred(killed on the 9th) and Blair of theAnson, was erected by order of Parliament in Westminster Abbey. Another brave fellow on board theResolution, as the ship's surgeon related, was a seaman whose name history has not preserved. He was standing by his gun as the ship sheered abreast of De Grasse's flagship. The gun was all ready and just going to fire when a shot came in at the port and took his leg off at the knee. As quick as thought the man pulled off his neckcloth and tied his leg above the stump. The next instant he seized his shot-off limb and thrust it into the muzzle of the gun, which went off two seconds later. 'Myfoot,' shouted the man exultantly, 'is the first to board theVille de Paris!' Such was the spirit in which Rodney's tars went into the fight that day.
MONUMENT OF THE THREE CAPTAINS—BLAIR, BAYNE, AND LORD ROBERT MANNERS—IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY
The bigDuke, of 98 guns, 'a splendidly efficient three-decker,' with a large effigy of 'Butcher' Cumberland of Culloden fame, in the war-paint of a British general, at her bows for the ship's figure-head, came on in the wake of theResolution.[35]Her captain was Alan Gardner, the Lord Gardner of later days, an officer and seaman worthy of such a ship. There was no moreefficient man-of-war in Rodney's line than theDuke, nor one more perfectly equipped, not excepting theFormidableherself. And her men were worthy of their captain and their ship. Captain Gardner had the honour of leading Rodney himself into the battle as the flagship's 'second ahead.' TheFormidablecame into action next immediately astern of theDuke.
TheFormidablefired her first gun, by the ship's log, exactly at eight minutes after eight o'clock: it was just as she was opposite the fifth ship from the French van. The enemy had already opened fire on the British flagship, 'in stemming towards them,' but without drawing Rodney's fire until he got closer, when the admiral returned it 'by giving some little elevation to his guns to good effect.' Rodney stood on in his place in line until he had come almost abreast of the ninth French ship. At that point, within pistol-shot of the enemy, theFormidableput up her helm and swung over to port to follow her consorts ahead. A smashing broadside of round-shot into the nearest of the Frenchmen announced that the British flagship had begun, and with that theFormidable'smen settled to their morning's work, 'keeping up,' as Captain Douglas bore witness, 'a most unsupportable, quick, and well-directed fire.'
As they rounded-to alongside the French fleet, coming bows on towards them, they plungedabruptly into the dense fog-bank of smoke that hung heavily along the firing lines, clinging thickly over all, sluggish and inert and almost opaque, blurring everything out except quite close at hand. For those on board theFormidableit was like passing at a step from a sunny street into a cellar, a transition in the blinking of an eye from a radiant April morning to the gloom and darkness of November midnight. On deck, in the open, the dark haze that shrouded everything in was at times impenetrable. The ship had to grope her way forward blindfold, steering, actually, by the flashes of theDuke'sguns, which kept up 'a most dreadful fire.' When now and then the smoke lifted or thinned a little, it became possible to catch a glimpse of the upper canvas of some approaching enemy in the act of nearing them, and fire at her as she came up, but for great part of the time they had to fire blindly or by guess work, unable to make out anything at all until an enemy suddenly loomed up close at hand, right abreast. Then a blaze of fire and the enemy had gone, disappeared, swallowed up in the smoke.
Below, between decks, for most of the time they were worse off. Not the faintest gleam of light came in through the ports—only smoke, pouring back into the ship with every discharge of the guns, thick and suffocating, blotting out everything from sight and filling every corner of theship with hot sulphurous fumes. Except close underneath the horn battle-lanterns, that swung overhead above the guns and threw a weak glimmer on the white glistening shoulders of the seamen—as they fought their pieces, stripped to the buff and dripping with sweat, naked except for their breeches, tugging and swaying with bent backs at the training tackle, barefooted, for the decks, though sanded down, soon got slippery—all was impenetrable darkness, ink black. The din below was fearful, incessant, deafening, with the reverberating crashes from the firing; the continuous trundling roll and thumping to and fro of the heavy gun-carriages, flung about by main force backwards and forwards as the guns were run in and out; the rattle and clatter of gear; the hoarse shoutings of orders. Now and again a sudden terrific crash, mingled with the harsh rending noise of splintering timber, would shake the ship's frame from end to end and overpower every other sound for the moment, as an enemy's broadside beat furiously against the stout oak planking of the ship's sides, followed by yells of agony from somewhere in the dark within the ship, and the gruff abrupt 'Close up there! Close up!' from the captains of the guns, signifying that some poor fellows had gone down.
FIGHTING THE GUNS ON THE MAIN DECK. 1782.
[This would seem to have been drawn in 1782, when Rowlandson paid his flying visit to see the remains of theRoyal George, and was probably worked up from a sketch on board one of the obsolete guardships in harbour with certain fancy touches of the artist's own.]
[This would seem to have been drawn in 1782, when Rowlandson paid his flying visit to see the remains of theRoyal George, and was probably worked up from a sketch on board one of the obsolete guardships in harbour with certain fancy touches of the artist's own.]
Rodney was on the quarter-deck, seated for most of the time in an arm-chair. He was badlycrippled after his last attack of gout, from which he had hardly recovered. Every now and again the admiral would rise and pass aft through his cabin under the poop to the stern gallery to look out astern and see what might be made out of the battle from there, or go forward to the gangway at the side, clear of the piled-up hammocks on the quarter-deck bulwarks, to look out ahead. His gout, it would seem, would not let him mount the ladder to the poop. It was during one of the admiral's intervals of rest probably, while he was sitting down for a few minutes in the middle of the men as they worked the quarter-deck guns, that Rodney, as we are told, made the discovery that one of the gunners there was a woman. Brought up on the spot before the admiral and taxed with disobedience of orders in not staying to help in the cockpit, the delinquent threw herself on Rodney's mercy. She was, she said, a sailor's wife. Her husband had been wounded and carried below, whereupon she had come up to take his place at his gun. It was of course a breach of discipline, and Rodney reprimanded the woman sharply. Then he softened, gave her ten guineas, and sent her down to nurse her husband.
Here is another incidental personal detail about Rodney on that morning. In one of his passings to and fro, between the quarter-deck and the stern walk, as Rodney went through his cabin hesaw some lemons lying on a side table. The old gentleman was hot and his throat parched with the sulphurous fumes of the all-pervading powder smoke. He called to a midshipman near by to make him a glass of lemonade. The boy did so, and having nothing to stir the glass with, picked up a knife on the table that had been used by some one for cutting up a lemon. Quite happy, he stirred the admiral's drink with the black and sticky blade. Rodney turned and caught sight of the performance. 'Child, child!' he exclaimed, with a grimace, as the boy was about to present the glass to him, 'that may do for the midshipmen's mess. Drink the stuff yourself and go and send my steward here!' The midshipman obeyed both orders.
It was about twenty minutes to nine, as theFormidablewas nearing the centre of the French line, that the vast bulk of theVille de Parisbegan to loom up ahead of them. There was no mistaking De Grasse's flagship. Her towering canvas, her tall sides and lofty bulwarks, her triple tier of ports, all these marked out the pride of the French fleet among the other ships, even without the identifying feature of the figure-head, the great shield at the bows with the arms of Paris heraldically emblazoned in gold and crimson and blue. Just before this, as Captain Fanshawe of theNamur, next astern of Rodney, noted, ourships had slackened fire to let the smoke drift off. Each flagship could thus distinguish the other easily as they closed. Each, of course, bore at her mast-head her Commander-in-Chief's personal standard; theVille de ParisDe Grasse's plain white Bourbon flag, the 'Cornette Blanche'; theFormidable, Rodney's flag as Admiral of the White, the red cross flag of St. George.
It was a dramatic moment as the two leaders drew together to cross swords. TheFormidable'smen felt it. They redoubled their efforts and blazed away with every gun that would train into the imposing-looking French three-decker's bows as she came on, leading off with a tremendous cannonade of round-shot and grape that made terrible havoc along the crowded decks of theVille de Paris. To the utter surprise of all there was next to no reply. A loose, irregular discharge came back, fired hurriedly and badly aimed. That was all. With a weak, half-hearted fire from about half her guns, theVille de Parissurged past theFormidableand vanished in the smoke astern. It was indeed a pitiful exhibition. The fierce broadsides of Rodney's ships ahead had done their work. Every British captain had reserved at least one of his broadsides for theVille de Paris, 'sickening' her, in the expressive Old Navy phrase, and after that the startling rapidity of the outburst with which theFormidablegreeted her approachhad completed the demoralisation on board. It flurried and staggered the French flagship's crew, and before they could recover themselves they had gone astern. As De Grasse went by some of theFormidable'sbatteries got off four double-shotted rounds into theVille de Paris, none less than three, with such magnificent smartness did Rodney's gunners handle their guns.
What did De Grasse himself think of his men's poor show? What did he think now—he could hardly have forgotten it—of his polite challenge to Rodney from Fort Royal by Captain Vashon a few weeks ago 'that nothing would give him greater pleasure than to meet 'le Chevalier Rodney,' and that he 'looked forward to personally welcoming the British Admiral on board theVille de Paris'? It was the second opportunity for a personal encounter with his antagonist that De Grasse had lost that week.[36]He was to have no more. As to his welcome of 'le Chevalier Rodney,' he would have the opportunity ofmaking the acquaintance of the British Admiral face to face and within twenty-four hours—though not on board theVille de Paris. The French flagship took her hammering from theFormidableand passed on to run the gauntlet of the other British ships astern.
It was apparently just as theVille de Pariswas passing that a French cannon-ball struck a fowl-coop on deck where a number of pullets for the admiral's table were kept. The coop was smashed to splinters and the fowls flew out. One of them, the story goes, a little bantam cock, fluttered up and perched on a spar above the quarter-deck, where it set-to crowing lustily and clapping its wings at every broadside from the guns. Rodney passed at the moment and pointed the bird out to Dr. Blane. 'Look at that fellow,' said Rodney, 'look at him; I declare he is a credit to his country.' The Admiral gave orders that the little cock should not be killed, but be taken care of and made a special pet for the reminder of its days.
Following in the wake of theVille de Pariscame the bigCouronne, a powerful eighty-four, whose efficiency in war Rodney had personally tested on a former day; theEveillé, Le Gardeur de Tilly's little sixty-four, showing signs of what she had gone through; and then theSceptre, the Comte de Vaudreuil's ship, a seventy-four.
As theSceptrewent astern, Rodney, with Blane at his elbow, walked out from the quarter-deck on to the starboard gangway at the side of the ship to get a better view. As he got there he saw another French ship nearing them. It was theGlorieux, reeling under the terrific punishment she had just undergone from theDuke'sguns. Her captain, D'Escars, had been struck down, and the ship wrecked from end to end; left lying a log on the water, 'shorn,' in Blane's words, 'of all her masts, bowsprit, and ensign staff, but with the white flag nailed to the stump of one of the masts, breathing defiance as it were in her last moments.' According to the French accounts they nailed their colours to the mast as theGlorieuxwas approaching theFormidable, the operation affording opportunity for a fine little bit of heroic by-play. While they were nailing up the flag a sergeant of the Auxerrois regiment (a company of which was on board), Choissat by name, fastened a white cloth to his halberd and sprang on the bulwark rail and held it up, waving it defiantly. A bullet from either theFormidableor theDukebroke Choissat's right arm, whereupon the brave fellow caught the halberd with his left hand and held it up until the ship's flag had been secured. He lived through the fight and was given a commission for his heroism.
Rodney marked the oncoming of theGlorieuxas the stricken vessel dropped slowly down on them. Then, a second later, seeing that the French seventy-four was drifting in such a way that she would brush close past them and almost collide, he turned abruptly to Dr. Blane. Both the Admiral's aides-de-camp were out of the way. 'Run down,' he told the doctor, 'and tell them to elevate their metal.' Blane went. He guessed the Admiral's meaning, thanks toHudibras, a couplet from which came opportunely into his mind.
Thus cannon shoot the higher pitches,The lower you let down their breeches.
'If this holds true,' says Dr. Blane, telling the story for himself, 'so must the converse of it, that is the muzzles must be lower by the elevation of the breeches. The Admiral's meaning could be no other than that of taking the enemy between wind and water.'[37]Blane hurried down and gave the order. In the interests of historic truth, in view of what immediately followed, it would have been well if he had not left the deck.
At the very moment that Rodney was sending Blane below, the wind suddenly shifted. It veered to the southward and headed the French fleet off, taking them all aback and throwing them out of order all along their line. It checked their way,and cast every ship round with her head to starboard, half-right as it were, setting the whole lineen échelon. For the British, on the other hand, the shift of wind made things more favourable than before. It sent Rodney's ships briskly forward. Its effect was instantly apparent in the immediate neighbourhood of theFormidable. The mastless hull of theGlorieuxdrove down steadily on theFormidable. The ship next astern of her in the French line, theDiadème, a seventy-four, hung back and then swung round sharply at right angles, paying off on the wrong tack. A wide gap was made at once in the enemy's line, and just opposite theFormidable. What was to be done?
Ink enough to float theFormidableherself has been spilled over the incidents of the next three minutes on board the British flagship, and we cannot even now say that we know the true story. According to one officer, who, as a quarter-deck midshipman, was an eye-witness of what took place, but did not put pen to paper about it until half a century after the event, a highly dramatic—and in the interests of discipline not very edifying—scene followed, between Rodney personally and Sir Charles Douglas his flag-captain.
HOW THE FRENCH LINE WAS BROKEN
[No. 19 C is theFormidable. The centre one of the three French flagships is theVille de Paris. No. 13 is theBedford. No. 6 D is theBarfleur.]
[No. 19 C is theFormidable. The centre one of the three French flagships is theVille de Paris. No. 13 is theBedford. No. 6 D is theBarfleur.]
Here is Midshipman Dashwood's narrative as he wrote it down from memory some forty years or so after both Rodney and Sir Charles Douglashad been laid in the grave. Dashwood was then an admiral, Sir Charles Dashwood, K.C.B. The account was written for Sir Howard Douglas, son of Rodney's flag-captain.[38]
I shall simply relate facts, to which I was an eye-witness, and can vouch for their truth. Being one of the aides-de-camp to the Commander-in-Chief on that memorable day, it was my duty to attend both on him and the Captain of the Fleet, as occasion might require. It so happened, that some time after the battle had commenced, and whilst we were warmly engaged, I was standing near Sir Charles Douglas, who was leaning on the hammocks (which in those days were stowed across the fore part of the quarter-deck), his head resting on one hand and his eye occasionally glancing on the enemy's line, and apparently in deep meditation, as if some great event were crossing his mind. Suddenly raising his head and turning quickly round he said, 'Dash! where's Sir George?' 'In the after-cabin, sir,' I replied. He immediately went aft; I followed; and on meeting Sir George coming from the cabin close to the wheel, he took off his cocked hat with his right hand, holding his long spy-glass in his left, and making a low and profound bow, said, 'Sir George, I give you joy of the victory!' 'Pooh!' said the Chief, as if half angry; 'the day is not half won yet.' 'Break the line. Sir George, ... the day is your own, and I will insure you the victory.' 'No,' said the admiral, 'I will not break my line.' After another request and another refusal Sir Charlesdesired the helm to be put a-port, Sir George ordered it to starboard. On your father ordering it again to port, the admiral sternly said, 'Remember, Sir Charles, that I am Commander-in-Chief—starboard, sir,' addressing the Master, who, during this controversy, had placed the helm amidships. Both the Admiral and the Captain then separated, the former going aft, and the latter forward. In the course of a couple of minutes or so each turned, and again met nearly on the same spot, when Sir Charles quietly and coolly again addressed the Chief, 'Only break the line, Sir George, and the day is your own.' The Admiral then said, in a quick and hurried way, 'Well, well, do as you like,' and immediately turned round and walked into the after cabin. The words 'Port the helm!' were scarcely uttered when Sir Charles ordered me down with directions to commence firing on the larboard side.
I shall simply relate facts, to which I was an eye-witness, and can vouch for their truth. Being one of the aides-de-camp to the Commander-in-Chief on that memorable day, it was my duty to attend both on him and the Captain of the Fleet, as occasion might require. It so happened, that some time after the battle had commenced, and whilst we were warmly engaged, I was standing near Sir Charles Douglas, who was leaning on the hammocks (which in those days were stowed across the fore part of the quarter-deck), his head resting on one hand and his eye occasionally glancing on the enemy's line, and apparently in deep meditation, as if some great event were crossing his mind. Suddenly raising his head and turning quickly round he said, 'Dash! where's Sir George?' 'In the after-cabin, sir,' I replied. He immediately went aft; I followed; and on meeting Sir George coming from the cabin close to the wheel, he took off his cocked hat with his right hand, holding his long spy-glass in his left, and making a low and profound bow, said, 'Sir George, I give you joy of the victory!' 'Pooh!' said the Chief, as if half angry; 'the day is not half won yet.' 'Break the line. Sir George, ... the day is your own, and I will insure you the victory.' 'No,' said the admiral, 'I will not break my line.' After another request and another refusal Sir Charlesdesired the helm to be put a-port, Sir George ordered it to starboard. On your father ordering it again to port, the admiral sternly said, 'Remember, Sir Charles, that I am Commander-in-Chief—starboard, sir,' addressing the Master, who, during this controversy, had placed the helm amidships. Both the Admiral and the Captain then separated, the former going aft, and the latter forward. In the course of a couple of minutes or so each turned, and again met nearly on the same spot, when Sir Charles quietly and coolly again addressed the Chief, 'Only break the line, Sir George, and the day is your own.' The Admiral then said, in a quick and hurried way, 'Well, well, do as you like,' and immediately turned round and walked into the after cabin. The words 'Port the helm!' were scarcely uttered when Sir Charles ordered me down with directions to commence firing on the larboard side.
How far an admiral's recollection of something that happened when he was a midshipman seventeen years of age is likely to be trustworthy is the point. Sir Charles Dashwood's account was called forth by the great magazine controversy of 1830 over the question as to who was the actual originator of the man[oe]uvre of 'Breaking the Line,' on the 12th of April 1782. A claim to the credit of it for his father, made by Sir Howard Douglas, as set forth by him in the preface of a book that he wrote onNaval Gunnery, raised the storm, and half England took sides in the discussion.
Against Admiral Dashwood's memory for fifty-year-old details have to be set the disciplinary improbabilities of the story for one thing, particularly in the case of an officer so notoriously strict and punctilious as was Rodney. It is incredible, not only that he would have taken part in an altercation before the men on the quarter-deck, but also that the most brilliant naval tactician of the time could have missed seeing so obvious an opportunity. It is also significant that not a word that anything unusual had happened on board Rodney's flagship, in the most famous battle of the whole war, ever found its way into print from any one of those on theFormidable'squarter-deck, and near by at the moment, during the lifetime of either Rodney or Sir Charles Douglas, or until the flag-captain's son burst his bombshell. And it is possible to pick other holes in the case set up against Rodney. It is easily probable that Captain Douglas called Rodney's attention to the gap in the enemy's line, but without any theatricals. It would have been his duty to do so. He had then to stand back and take his orders. The admiral, by nature, and as his whole career proved, 'a man quick to see an opportunity, prompt to seize it,'[39]would hardly require teaching his business, least of all a man with Rodney's fighting record.
Blane returned on deck at the moment that Midshipman Dashwood was flying down the ladder to the batteries below with the order to open fire on the port side. It was just as theFormidablewas swinging her bows slowly round to pass through between the wreck of theGlorieuxand theDiadème. He apparently saw no trace of excitement about the admiral, no sign of loss of temper, nothing to suggest that anything unusual had just been happening. On the contrary, Rodney was in quite a jocular mood. 'Now comes the struggle,' was Rodney's greeting to the doctor, with one of those classical allusions that came so naturally to the gentlemen of that day, pointing to the hulk of the dismastedGlorieuxas it drifted close alongside them,—'Now comes the struggle for the body of Patroclus!' Blane looked down on to theGlorieux'deck and right into her port-holes. 'TheFormidable,' he tells us, 'was so near that I could see the cannoniers throwing away their sponges and handspikes in order to save themselves by running below!'
The British flagship swept through the gap, pouring a broadside into theGlorieuxto the right and theDiadèmeto the left. TheGlorieuxwas at that moment 'close to our starboard side and almost in contact therewith, about a ship's breadth from us.' On the larboard side, eye-witnesses related, theFormidable'sthree tiers of guns wentoff with 'one platoon report.' After it theDiadèmehad vanished. She was seen no more from theFormidable, nor apparently by any other ship of the British fleet. Rodney himself believed—and reported to the Admiralty in his official despatch—that she had been sent to the bottom, with all hands there and then.[40]
THEFORMIDABLEBREAKING THE LINE. April 12, 1782
[The original water-colour was painted for the Duke of Rutland (elder brother of Captain Lord Robert Manners, mortally wounded in the battle), and is at Belvoir Castle.]
[The original water-colour was painted for the Duke of Rutland (elder brother of Captain Lord Robert Manners, mortally wounded in the battle), and is at Belvoir Castle.]
Immediately after that, as the smoke cleared off, a group of three or four French ships were made out near at hand, all huddled together in a mass. They were the ships that had been following theDiadème. Thrown aback by the shift of wind, and further disordered by the sudden turning round of theDiadèmeherself right across their bows, they had got jammed together in confusion, 'almost, if not quite, in contact with each other.' They were full in the path of theFormidableas she went through the line. She had to pass quite close to them. At the same instant theDukewas about to pass on the farther side of the group. Captain Gardner had seen the admiral, astern of him, swing round suddenly to break through the enemy's line, and guessing what was intended, had of his own accord followed suit, forcing his way through between the two Frenchmen nearest himself at the moment. Thus thehapless group of French ships found itself all at once placed under fire on two sides from the most powerful three-deckers in the British fleet, they themselves also at that moment being hardly able to fire a shot in reply. It was a shattering and an overwhelming stroke. It practically crushed the French centre out of existence as a fighting entity. Rodney's men had only to fire 'into the brown.' Dr. Blane, who was watching it all from theFormidable'sgangway, by Rodney's side, describes what he saw. 'The unfortunate group, composing now only one large single object to fire at, was attacked ... all at once, receiving several broadsides from each ship, not a single shot missing, and dreadful must have been the slaughter.'
Captain Fanshawe's hard-hittingNamur, a 90-gun ship, followed theFormidable; then came Inglis'sSt. Albans, a 64; Cornwallis'sCanada, one of the deadliest fighting 74's in Rodney's fleet; Dumaresq'sRepulse, another 64, manned by a smart set of Guernsey lads; and Nicholas Charrington's 74, theAjax. One after the other these all filed close past the helpless crowd of panic-stricken Frenchmen, firing into them fast and furiously. Each one, at the same time, passed close and fired into the lucklessGlorieuxon the farther side,—still quivering after the last tremendous salvo from, to use Captain Douglas's own expression, 'theFormidable'sthundering starboard side,' rackedthrough and through by that awful tornado of 8 cwts. of solid shot, lying like a log on the water, a bare hulk under a mass of splintered spars, torn canvas and tangled rigging. Captain Inglis of theSt. Albanswas watching her and made note of what he saw. TheGlorieux, said Inglis, did not return a single shot to theSt. Albans'broadside, although the rags of her colours could be seen still fluttering defiantly from where they had been nailed to the stump of the mizen mast. Only one man was to be seen on deck, on the poop, and he, poor fellow, dropped to theSt. Albans'marines. After his ship had passed theGlorieuxInglis looked back at her and watched theCanadagive her a staggering broadside. 'From the dust, the pieces of timber, and the smoke which flew to a great distance from the side opposite of that where she had received the blow, it seemed as if the ship (literally speaking) had been blown out of the water, and as if the whole of the mass had been driven to windward'!
With the smashing of the French centre the fate of the day was settled. The end might be some hours off—as it was in fact,—but from now onwards it was plainly in sight. 'From this moment,' says Blane, 'victory declared itself. All was disorder and confusion throughout the enemy's fleet from end to end.'
As a fact, to make things worse still for the enemy, De Grasse's line had been broken throughin yet another place. At the same moment that Rodney's ships were crossing the French line at the centre, Hood's division was breaking through it in the rear. It was quite unintentional with Hood and his captains, a blunder in the smoke fog; but it had a most telling effect on the fortunes of the day. It completed the ruin of De Grasse's array. The same southerly shift of the wind which had caused the gap in the centre was the cause primarily of Hood's going through farther along the line. TheBedford, Commodore Affleck, the rear ship of Rodney's centre squadron, was following in her place, astern of theAjax, when she suddenly lost her leader in the smoke. At that instant the shift of wind broke up the French. Unaware of what she was doing, theBedford, keeping her helm steady and holding straight ahead, pushed through the nearest gap in the enemy's line. So little, in fact, was theBedford'scaptain aware of what was happening, that the first intimation he had of what he had done was the sudden discovery that he had no enemy to starboard to fire at. As the best thing to be done he ported helm and stood on along the larboard side of the enemy's ships ahead, which belonged to De Grasse'scorps de bataille, the French centre squadron. Hood's leading ships, thePrince Williamand theMagnificent, followed theBedford, and in the wake of them, through the widening gap, poured the rest ofHood's ships, ten in number. They pressed in, sweeping across the stern of theHector, the rear ship of the French van, and between her and theCésar, the leader of De Grasse's squadron. Thus at one stroke were the ships of the French van cut offen blocfrom the centre and the rear. One after the other, as they passed, Hood's twelve ships (or thirteen counting in theBedfordas one) cannonaded theCésarand theHector, crippling both hopelessly, and reducing them to a state little better than that in which Rodney's five followers had left theGlorieux.
To give an idea of the wide expanse over which the battle was at this moment raging, it should be said that Hood'sBarfleur, when she broke the line, was 2¼ miles from theFormidable. TheMarlborough, away in the van, was 3½ miles off, and had already come out of action, having ceased firing after passing the French rearmost ships. Hood's rear ship, theRoyal Oak, fired her parting broadside into the stern of the ill-starredCésara few minutes after eleven, with which the first stage of the battle came to an end. TheFormidablehad ceased firing more than an hour before.
The two fleets, after passing through each other, drifted slowly apart, the breeze falling gradually away to light airs and mere catspaws, after which it dropped altogether and left both sides becalmed,to look at each other from a distance and repair damages. They lay like this, out of range for most of the ships, for upwards of an hour.
Each was left by the events of the morning in a straggling and broken-up array, but, as the clearing off of the smoke disclosed, in widely different circumstances. The British, though the three squadrons were all separated, were yet more or less within touch, and with each of their groups fairly well together. They were about four miles from the nearest of the French ships, and having regard to the quarter whence the breeze would in ordinary course spring up during the afternoon, to windward of them. The French, on the other hand, were in hopeless disorder at all points and all dead to leeward. They were lying anyhow, in three irregular groups or clusters of ships, and widely separated. The centre group comprised theVille de Paris, herself, with five or six ships, all more or less crippled. Two miles from De Grasse and to leeward of him lay twelve ships of Bougainville's van squadron. Three or four miles away to westward was De Vaudreuil with the rear squadron. Such was the position on both sides when, between noon and one o'clock, the anticipated breeze suddenly sprang up, coming very light and fitful at first, then steadily and from the expected quarter.
One grim detail must be noted. As the two fleets drifted apart and men had time to lookround, they saw, we are told, an awful sight, which struck horror into Briton and Frenchman alike. On all sides the water was alive with ravening sharks, that had swarmed up from the bottom, attracted to the spot, summoned to their banquet, by the splashes in the water and the noise of the cannonade. Right and left the surface of the sea was furrowed by the fins of the greedy monsters as they swam about, snapping savagely all round. Under the murderous fire of the British gunners most of the French ships had been turned into veritable slaughter-houses. Each ship had been packed with troops for the Jamaica expedition. Every seventy-four that morning, including the hundred and fifty or two hundred soldiers on board, had carried not fewer than nine hundred men at least. Some ships had had still more on board. TheVille de Paris, for one, carried thirteen hundred. Awful indeed had been the slaughter as the English broadsides, aimed at the French port-holes at point-blank range, swept the decks and tore lanes through the closely-packed masses of men as they stood helplessly at quarters. It was the dreadful sequel that interested the sharks. In order to get the dead out of the way at once in the turmoil of the fighting, and give room to work the guns, most of the bodies of the fallen had been pitched overboard then and there—the dead, and, as some said, the not quitedead as well. Many a poor fellow had gone overboard with the spars and rigging as they crashed over the side, shot away in action.Requinis, of course, the French for shark. As a fact, it is a popular corruption of the word 'requiem,' which was the old French name for the monster down to the seventeenth century. Littré explains why:—'à cause,' he says, 'qu'il n'y a plus à dire qu'un requiem pour celui qu'un requin saisit.'