Pierre André de Suffren de Saint-Tropez, born in 1729 at St. Cannat in Provence—in the modern department of the Bouches du Rhone—was the third son of the Marquis de Saint-Tropez. Like many other younger sons of Provençal families, he was provided for by being placed in the Order of Malta (_i.e._ St. John of Jerusalem), and also in the French Navy. He became a Garde de la marine in 1743, and from that day till 1781 had been in almost constant service either in the French Navy or in “the caravans of the Religion,” as the cruises of the galleys of Malta in the Levant and on the coast of Africa were officially called. He had taken part in nearly all the few successes and the most conspicuous disasters of the French Navy for some forty years. His reputation as a good practical seaman and vigorous officer was undisputed. His experience had given him a fiery scorn for the pedantic tactics of his generation. They were in his opinion merely decent cloaks for timidity. In 1781 he was still only Knight of the Order, and had not as yet received the dignified office of Bailli of Provence, from which came his popular name of “the Bailli.” On the 29th March, Suffren parted from the main fleet of the Comte de Grasse when in the latitude of the Azores. He was soon aware that Commodore Johnstone was ahead of him. A Portuguese fishing-boat spoken by one of his squadron informed him that the English squadron had passed. It must have appeared very doubtful to Suffren whether he could hope to overtake and pass it. Several of his transports were heavy sailers, and some of his ships were in want of water. In order to procure more, it was necessary to make for the Portuguese island St. Iago, in the Cape de Verd Islands, and to anchor at Porto Praya, on the south side. On the 16th April the French squadron came round the south-east point of the island in straggling order. One of their ships was towing a transport. As the harbour came in sight the leading French vessel saw that it was full of ships and that several of them were men-of-war. Johnstone had, in fact, anchored at Porto Praya on the 11th of the month, in a slovenly and unofficerlike way, with his transports and warships confusedly mingled. If Suffren had been an orthodox French officer of the stamp of Guichen, he would have seen an excellent opportunity to “fulfil his mission,” and would have hurried on, prepared to risk suffering from want of water, in hope to reach the Cape first. Suffren reasoned as Hawke would have done. What he saw was an admirable opportunity to cripple Johnstone, and he attacked. That his own squadron was not in hand was to him a small matter. It was ten in the morning, and he calculated that many of the English sailors would be ashore in search of water and stores. The confusion of Johnstone’s squadron was obvious. Suffren saw that the rain was falling on the just and the unjust, and he struck his blow. For the neutrality