Favoured by wind and tide, the English fleet approached in three divisions. It was an imposing spectacle. The French fleet, under the orders of Valençay, filled the canal. The mole, which since the departure of Denbigh’s expedition had been completed and strengthened by the erection of a double row of gigantic _chevaux de frise_, the two floating stockades, the forts, the cliffs, the banks of the canal, bristled with guns and soldiers. Thousands of volunteers from all parts of France had flocked to La Rochelle to take part in the long-expected combat and filled the ships and the boats. Standing on the mole, in the centre of the great scene, the Cardinal calmly contemplated the coming of the enemy; while on the ramparts of the beleaguered town the famished citizens awaited in silence the issue of the battle which was to decide their fate. Alas for the unhappy Rochellois! The sufferings which they had endured with such heroic fortitude were all in vain. The officers and crews of Lindsey’s fleet were no more ready to follow him into danger than those of Denbigh’s had been to follow their commander in the spring. The masters of the armed merchantmen, which formed the advance-guard, complained that they were being deliberately sacrificed to save the King’s ships, which had been ordered to follow in support. The King’s ships drew too much water to come to close quarters, and the admiral could only order them to stand in as far as possible without running aground. They took good care that there should be no possibility of that. The merchantmen approached just within range of the French fleet and the batteries on the promontories, discharged a broadside, went about, discharged another broadside and then fell back, while the King’s ships advanced and did the same. This performance was repeated three times, while the guns of the French fleet and of the batteries at Chef de Baie and Coreilles[116] blazed away at them. The noise was terrific, but the range was too long for much damage to be suffered by either side,[117] and, after the action--if such it can be called--had lasted a couple of hours, the tide turned, and the English ships returned to their anchorage. No attempt had been made to close with and board any of the French vessels, though Lindsey’s despatches show that he believed that this operation was perfectly feasible. At daybreak on the 4th the English renewed the attack, but with no more effect than on the previous day. In vain orders were sent to the captains to stand in closer to the French fleet and send in fire-ships against it. A few fire-ships were sent drifting in, but without any attempt to direct their course; and the French boats, braving the fire of the enemy’s guns, advanced to meet them, towed them aside, and ran them ashore beneath the cliffs of Chef de Baie, where they could do no harm. Not a French ship was set on fire. Not a man on either side killed. A more futile affair could not be imagined.