That prudent and active officer, Sir Edward Hawke, had sailed on the first notice to seek the French squadron. He had twenty-three ships, they twenty-one. He came up with them on their own coast; and, before half his Fleet had joined him, began the attack. Conflans at first made a show of fighting, but soon took the part of endeavouring to shelter himself among the rocks, of which that coast is full. It was the 20th of November: the shortness of the day prevented the total demolition of the enemy--but darkness nor a dreadful tempest that ensued could call off Sir Edward from pursuing his blow. The roaring of the elements was redoubled by the thunder from our ships; and both concurred in that scene of horror, to put a period to the Navy and hopes of France. Seven ships of the line got into the river Vilaine, eight more escaped to different ports. Conflans’ own ship and another were run on shore and burnt. One we took. Two of ours were lost in the storm, but the crews saved. Lord Howe, who attacked the Formidable, bore down on her with such violence, that her prow forced in his lower tier of guns. Captain Digby,[75] in the Dunkirk, received the fire of twelve of the enemy’s ships, and lost not a man. Keppel’s was full of water, and he thought it sinking: a sudden squall emptied his ship, but he was informed all his powder was wet--“Then,” said he, “I am sorry I am safe.” They came and told him a small quantity was undamaged--“Very well,” said he; “then attack again.” Not above eight of our ships were engaged in obtaining that decisive victory. The invasion was heard of no more, but in a puny episode that will be mentioned hereafter. While in agitation, it was expected that the people would call for the Duke of Cumberland to command. The Duchess of Bedford told him of the rumour. “I do not believe, madam,” replied the Prince, “that the command will be offered to me, but when no wise man would accept it, and no honest man would refuse it.”