Champions of the fleet : $b Captains and men-of-war and days that helped to make the empireFraser, Edward
History
Champions of the fleet : $b Captains and men-of-war and days that helped to make the empire
Fraser, Edward
Great Britain -- History, Naval; Naval battles -- Great Britain
Hawke’s van ships caught up the rear of the French Fleet just to the
south-east of Belleisle, as it was in the act of heading to round the
Cardinals, a chain of dangerous rocks and outlying islets, and stand in
for Quiberon Bay, then still ahead of them some eighteen to twenty miles.
Conflans was that distance from his intended refuge when the first shots
went off. Both fleets began to fight as they overlapped, the British
coming up under every stitch of canvas which their masts could stand—“not
a topsail was reefed”—the ships now wallowing in the trough of the waves,
now plunging and rolling and staggering forward on the crest, while heavy
surging cross-seas burst and broke in deluges of seething foam over
the ships’ bows. So terrible was the weather that on board some of the
British ships men were flung down on deck or hurled helplessly about and
seriously injured and maimed. In one or two men were washed overboard and
never seen again. The guns were double-breeched; eight men were at the
wheel in every ship. So on that awful November afternoon did Hawke swoop
down to strike.
On the French side there were twenty-one ships—with Hawke, twenty-three;
but the French ships were on the average bigger vessels than ours, and
carried heavier guns. That for fighting purposes in such weather gave
Conflans the advantage. Another thing was this: all the fighting that
day was done by barely two-thirds of Hawke’s fleet. A full third of the
British Fleet were too far in rear—out-paced in the chase—and were unable
to come up in time to have any influence on the fortune of the fight.
Ship after ship of the advancing British Fleet as they reached the enemy
attacked the _Formidable_ hotly. First, the _Dorsetshire_, of seventy
guns, captained by Peter Denis, an Irishman (Anson’s dashing lieutenant
of the old _Centurion_ days), gave her a flying broadside as she swept
by to windward; passing on then and driving ahead, making for the French
van. Then the _Defiance_, another seventy-gun ship, following fast in the
_Dorsetshire’s_ wake, gave the _Formidable_ a second broadside.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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