TO APRIL 12TH
When the Admiral and his second in command met off Antigua it was
manifest that the crisis of the war was fast approaching in the West
Indies. Since Grasse had returned from the coast of North America the
French had possessed a considerable superiority of force, and had used
it to complete their conquest of the English islands. The bolder and
more efficacious policy would have been to seek out Hood and crush him
before reinforcements arrived from England. But this was at no period in
the war the line taken by any French commander except Souffren. Grasse
followed the traditional rules and attacked the islands. Before his
arrival Bouillé had retaken St. Eustatius by a dashing surprise. When
the French admiral and the governor of Martinique had again joined they
fell upon St. Kitts, which lies between St. Eustatius and Antigua. A
naval force of twenty-nine sail of the line conveyed Bouillé’s soldiers,
and the expedition landed in January. It was far too strong to be
resisted by the small English garrison under General Fraser--the more
because the planters, being thoroughly sulky since the confiscation of
their goods at St. Eustatius, refused to give him any help. He retired
with his soldiers to Brimstone Hill, and fortifying himself there, held
out in the hope that relief would come.
The news of the attack reached Hood at Barbadoes, and he saw at once
that honour and interest alike required that an effort should be made.
He shipped a small force of soldiers under General Prescott and sailed
for St. Kitts. The manœuvring and fighting which followed make what
Cortes would have called a _muy hermosa cosa_--a very pretty piece of
work. The French were stronger by seven sail of the line, but Hood had
decided to attack them where they were anchored near the Basseterre Bank
to cover the troops on shore. His plan was defeated through the gross
misconduct of the officer of the watch of one of our frigates, who threw
his vessel right across the bows of the leading liner, and caused a
collision which entailed a waste of invaluable time. The approaching
English fleet was seen by Grasse, who got up anchor and stood to sea. By
steady manœuvring Hood kept between him and the land. Then he ran in
and anchored at Basseterre himself, thus cutting Grasse off from
Bouillé. The Frenchman, furious at finding himself outmanœuvred, made
three attacks on the English, but Hood had anchored close on the tail of
the bank, and had placed his ships so admirably for mutual support, that
the enemy was beaten off with loss. General Prescott was landed, and an
effort made to relieve Fraser. But the English military force was too
weak to raise the siege of Brimstone Hill, and soon fell back to secure
the protection of the guns of the fleet.
For some weeks these various land and sea forces remained in a curiously
complicated position. Fraser at Brimstone Hill was besieged by Bouillé,
who was threatened by Prescott from Basseterre. Hood while covering
Prescott was threatened by Grasse, who lay out at sea watching him.
Reinforcements had arrived which raised the French to over thirty
vessels. At last Brimstone Hill surrendered. There was nothing to be
gained by holding on to Basseterre any longer. On February 17th Hood
re-embarked Prescott’s men, and summoned his captains on board the
_Barfleur_. Every man’s watch was set by the Admiral’s, and orders were
given that at ten o’clock exactly every cable was to be cut, and the
fleet was to slip to sea under the shadow of the land. At sundown the
riding lights of the English fleet were hoisted on boats anchored
outside of them. At the appointed time the axes of the carpenter’s gangs
fell on the cables from end to end of the fleet, and Hood slipped to sea
leaving the lights on the boats to mislead the French till daylight.
When it came, a few flecks of white on the horizon made by the topsails
of Hood’s ships told Grasse that the enemy, who had outmanœuvred him
all along, had baffled him again. The effort to save St. Kitts had
failed from want of means, but it was gallantly made. The success with
which an inferior English force had defied the French, and had
outmanœuvred them, greatly raised our spirits after the last unlucky
months. His failure had discredited Grasse, and had tended to increase
the already existing ill-will between him and his second and third in
command, Vaudreuil and Bougainville.
The junction with Rodney had raised the English force nearer to an
equality with the French. Grasse was not minded, however, to fight a
battle. His orders were to make ready for that attack on Jamaica which
was to put a triumphant finish to the war. So, taking Bouillé on board
again, he returned to Fort Royal in Martinique. Rodney went south to
Gros Islet Bay in Santa Lucia--his old headquarters--and there resumed
his watch on the enemy.
It was known on both sides that a decisive battle lay ahead of them.
Rodney had written to Parker at Jamaica immediately on reaching the West
Indies, warning him of the approaching attack. The French, he informed
him, would certainly make an effort to fall on the Greater Antilles
soon. For his part he would do his best to fight them to windward, but
if they slipped through his fingers there, then he would follow them to
the west, would join Parker, and the battle would be fought off Jamaica.
In any case there would be a battle. During March both fleets were
making ready. Both expected and received reinforcements. The ships which
were fitting out in England when Rodney left, followed him soon, and
their arrival raised his force to thirty-six sail of the line with a
good proportion of frigates. In the meantime another expedition had been
fitted out at Brest to replace that broken up by Kempenfelt in December.
It was commanded by Captain Mithon de Genouilly, and it reached Fort
Royal safely in spite of us before the end of March. On this occasion,
also, one has to confess that Rodney differed in opinion from Hood, and
that his measures did not succeed. Hood argued that the French in their
anxiety to arrive safely would avoid the neighbourhood of the English
station at Santa Lucia, and he asked for leave to cruise well to the
north among the Antilles. Rodney replied that the French had always
entered the West Indies by the passage between Martinique and Dominica,
and would certainly do so again. He therefore stationed Hood off this
passage, and ordered him to stay there. The calculation that the French
would adhere to the old routine was shrewd enough, and fairly justified
by their conduct of the war, but on this occasion it turned out to be
mistaken. Mithon de Genouilly steered a more northerly course. He
entered the West Indies by Deseada, which is just off Guadaloupe to the
east, and then, hugging the leeward side of the islands, got safe into
Fort Royal. Whether the disposition preferred by Hood would have barred
his road we cannot tell. To have divided our force as widely as he
recommended might have been a dangerous step in the presence of a bold
enemy, and Rodney perhaps did well to avoid the risk that even Grasse
would throw over the cautious French tactics once in a way. But he was
certainly keenly disappointed by the escape of Mithon de Genouilly, all
the more because he had expressed the fullest confidence in the measures
taken to stop him. A squadron being no longer needed to windward of
Martinique, Hood was recalled to Santa Lucia, and the English fleet was
kept ready to start in pursuit the instant the look-out frigates saw
Grasse standing out from Fort Royal. It was Rodney’s last
disappointment.
The two fleets were now within one ship equal in point of numbers.
Grasse was, however, hampered by a great convoy of merchant vessels
which had to be seen safely to San Domingo--a charge which very
materially affected his manœuvres when he did at last get to sea.
They were trading vessels, not transports. The troops which were to be
landed in Jamaica were embarked on the war-ships, and with them the
battering-train. Bouillé was not to go in command this time, as the
Spanish Government insisted that an island which, by the terms of their
compact with France, was to be conquered for Spain, should be attacked
under the direction of a Spanish general. His supersession made no
difference, as things turned out; but if the combined expedition had
actually reached Jamaica, it would have been all to our advantage. Until
April 8th the two fleets remained at anchor--the French getting ready at
Fort Royal; the English waiting to start in pursuit from Santa Lucia,
some forty miles to the south. All leave was stopped on our ships.
Neither officer nor man landed except on duty. A line of frigates
patrolled the space between the two ports within signalling distance of
one another.
At last, on the 8th, the _Andromache_ frigate, commanded by Captain
Byron--“an active, brisk, and intelligent officer,” according to
Rodney--was seen standing in for Santa Lucia with the signal flying
which told that the French were getting to sea. Within two hours the
English were out, and in pursuit. The shortest route for the French
would have been across the Caribbean Sea to their rendezvous with the
Spaniards on the coast of San Domingo. But Grasse could not take that
course without incurring the certainty of being caught up by the
pursuer. There is much dispute between the writers of the time as to
which of the two fleets, French and English, sailed better, each
asserting that the other had the quicker heels. In this case, however,
there could be no doubt that the English, having a greater number of
coppered ships, could have overhauled the enemy. Besides, Grasse would
have been hampered by his lumbering merchantmen. As it was his duty to
save them, and his cue to avoid a battle till he had effected his
junction with the Spaniards, it was probable that he would take the
alternative route--that he would hug the western or leeward side of the
islands and stand to the north, partly because this course would give
him the better chance of keeping the weather-gage, and partly because it
would enable him to stand in guard over his convoy by keeping it between
himself and the land. So Rodney acted on the supposition that Grasse
would go northward, and through the night of April 8th he steered in
that direction past Martinique. On the morning of the 9th the English
fleet was off Dominica, and it was seen that Rodney had judged rightly.
There to north and east of our ships were the French fleet and convoy.
Rodney and Grasse were now face to face on their decisive field of
battle. This field is the stretch of water which extends along the west
side of Dominica to the southern point of Guadaloupe--a length of nearly
fifty miles. It is subject to conditions which dictated the course of
the next four days of fighting and manœuvres as effectually as ever
mountain, wood, or river shaped a battle on land. The island of Dominica
is twenty-seven miles long, it runs from east of south to west of north,
and it is full of hills. The Morne Diablotin, about nine miles from the
northern point, is four thousand seven hundred and forty-seven feet
high. These hills had not a little to do with the coming battles.
Twenty-one miles to the north, and a little to the west of Dominica, is
the southern point of the French island of Guadaloupe. The passage
between the two is not, however, for purposes of navigation twenty-one
miles wide. At about fifteen miles from the northern point of Dominica
it is interrupted by a string of small islands called the Saints, which
extend five miles from E.N.E. to W.S.W. They give its name to the
strait--the Saints’ Passage. These fifty miles of water are divided very
sharply into two zones, so to speak, by the winds which blow over them.
The open water between Dominica and Guadaloupe is swept by the Easterly
Trades. But these winds are broken by the high land of Dominica. All
along the western side of the island there is a belt of water which is
subject to calms, or to variable land and sea breezes. It is obvious,
therefore, that a great fleet, manœuvring in these waters, and
extended in a line of battle miles long, might be in two winds. One end
of it might be in the “true breeze” blowing through the Saints’ Passage,
while the other was in the variable breezes blowing off, or along, or on
to the shore. It might even happen that one half of the fleet might have
the wind while the other was becalmed under the land. As a matter of
fact we shall see that both fleets were subject to these various
conditions from the 9th to the 12th April, and that the whole course of
the fighting was largely dictated by them.
At daylight on the 9th, English and French were alike becalmed under
Dominica. Grasse had his convoy of merchant ships huddled together in
Prince Rupert’s Bay, an anchorage about three miles long and one deep on
the north-western side of the island. To seaward and to the south of
them were the thirty-five liners and the frigates of his fleet. The
English were opposite the central and southern parts of the island,
arranged in a long roughly-formed line. Sir Samuel Hood with the ships
of the van was farthest to the north; Rodney was in the centre to the
south of him; farthest south and farthest from the enemy was
Rear-Admiral Drake with his division. Two of the French ships, the
_Auguste_ and the _Zélé_, were at some distance from their own fleet and
near the English. As the sun rose the southerly breezes got up along the
coast of the island. They were very partial, and broken all day long by
calms. The first of the great host of ships now collected under the
island to feel them were the nine immediately around Sir Samuel Hood. He
at once formed his line, and stretched ahead, aiming to cut off the
isolated French ships. One of them might have been actually separated
but for the rigidity of the discipline which prevailed in the English
fleet. As the breeze reached her, this vessel stood in towards her own
fleet, steering close-hauled across the head of the English. She came so
near that the leading ship, the _Alfred_, was compelled to bear up to
avoid a collision. Officers and men in Hood’s ships waited eagerly for
the order to open fire, but it never came. Hood was watching the mast of
the _Formidable_ for the order to begin, but it was never hoisted, for
some unexplained reason, and the bold Frenchman rejoined Grasse
untouched. This was an instance of the punctilious obedience which is
only just better than disobedience--the action of a man who is resolved
to accept no responsibility, and to leave his commander all the burden;
but it was not disapproved by Rodney.
When the wind reached the French ships, Grasse at once ordered his
convoy to make their way to Guadaloupe to the north-west and leeward.
Two liners were sent with them, and before night they were all out of
sight. With the thirty-three ships which remained to him, Grasse
resolved to work to windward past the Saints. He knew that Rodney would
follow him and not the traders, which would therefore be safe, and he
calculated on his own power of avoiding a battle by keeping to windward.
It is just possible that if he had gone off at once he might have worked
through the passage, while only half the English had the wind. Some of
his vessels were, however, dangerously near Hood, and might have fallen
behind. Neither interest nor honour permitted him to sacrifice them, and
then, too, he saw a chance of crippling the English pursuit by an attack
on the isolated van.
That he had the chance is beyond question. If, in Rodney’s own language,
he “had come down as he should,” Hood might have been surrounded, cut
off, and crushed by numbers long before our becalmed ships could come
up. Some at least of our van must have fallen into the hands of the
enemy. But we were saved by that pedantic adherence to the line of
battle which had been the rule with both fleets, and then by the rule
which bound a French admiral to subordinate an opportunity of immediate
advantage to his ultimate object. Grasse would not come to close
quarters from fear of being entangled into a damaging battle. He decided
to range past Hood’s ships to windward at half-cannon shot, and fire to
cripple his rigging. The manœuvre, such as it was, was neatly
performed. During the forenoon of the 9th about half the French ships
under the direct command of Vaudreuil were engaged in ranging past Hood,
then, when they reached the end of his line, tacking to windward to
return to their starting-point, and pass along from end to end again.
The English ships lay with their topsails to the mast, taking the
Frenchmen’s fire and returning it. More than half the English ships were
mere spectators of the battle. The calms kept them helpless, but towards
mid-day a few of them, by trimming their sails to every cat’s-paw of
wind, contrived to work up. Rodney’s flag-ship the _Formidable_ was one
of these, and was steered between the land and Hood in the hope of
cutting off some of the French ships. As they were seen to be coming up,
Grasse at once hauled off to windward. There was some more distant
cannonading, but the Frenchman had thrown away a magnificent chance, and
fortune gave him no other. A few of Hood’s ships had indeed been
damaged. Captain Bayne of the _Alfred_ had been killed, and the damage
to the squadron was sufficiently severe to induce Rodney to order it to
change places with the rear, giving a promise, however, that so soon as
another battle seemed imminent it should return to the place of honour.
For the rest, none of the English ships were so damaged as to be unable
to take part in the battle of the 12th. Our fire, too, had been very
steady and quick. The French had masts and spars to replace, so that
their flight was as much hampered as our pursuit. The action is, in
fact, an admirable example of the rule that half-hearted operations in
war are always disastrous. Grasse would not risk his fleet in order to
crush a part of the English, and so he left his enemy intact to ruin him
and his “ultimate object” together three days later.
The night of the 9th and whole of the 10th were spent by the two fleets
in repairing damages. Calms and cat’s-paws of wind kept them rolling
harmlessly in sight of one another. During the night of the 10th the
_Zélé_, which was built to bring the French fleet into trouble, ran into
the _Junon_, and so damaged her that she had to be sent off to
Guadaloupe. The _Caton_, too, was found to be so ill rigged that Grasse
got rid of her likewise, and thus reduced his fleet to thirty-one
vessels. All through the 11th the wind gave Rodney no chance of forcing
on an action. The French were beating to windward through the passage,
or gradually wriggling out from under the land. By evening most of them
were out of sight. Rodney had hitherto kept his fleet in line of battle,
but when he saw that the escape of the French had become a question of
an hour or two, he ordered a general chase of the few which still
remained to leeward of the Saints. The best sailers of the English fleet
were soon close upon them, and they were signalling for help. It was, of
course, impossible for Grasse to leave them to their fate, and he came
bowling back before the wind to protect them. He saved them from
capture, but he lost all the advance he had made by a day of laborious
tacking. Before dark the whole French fleet was back to leeward of the
Saints. Rodney recalled his chasing ships, and stood with his whole
fleet to the south. It was too late to fight a battle now, but he wished
to draw the French on and so make it double sure that he would find them
on the, for them, wrong side of the passage next morning. The orders of
the English fleet were to stand to the south till two in the morning,
and then tack to the north. Rodney turned in with the well-grounded
conviction that when day broke the French would be seen by the morning
watch much where they had been left over-night.
It was extremely unlikely that the French fleet would in any case
succeed in doing by night what it had failed to do by day, but at two in
the morning, just when the English fleet was coming round to the north
again, an event happened which made the battle of the following day
inevitable. The _Zélé_ with the others was tacking at the mouth of the
passage, endeavouring not to lose if she could not gain ground in the
trade wind. In the dark she met the _Ville de Paris_, Grasse’s own
splendid flag-ship. The _Zélé_ was on the port, the _Ville de Paris_ on
the starboard tack. According to the express orders of the admiral, and
according to what is now the universal rule of the road at sea, it was
the duty of the Zélé to put her helm up and go under the stern of the
flag-ship. But the great gods were weary of Grasse’s peddling. They
blinded the officer of the watch on the _Zélé_. He luffed, endeavoured
to cross the bow of the flag-ship, and ran smash into her. The _Zélé_
had her bowsprit snapped off short, and her foremast carried away just
above the deck. The two vessels were entangled, wind and current swept
them to leeward before they could be got clear. Then Grasse ordered the
_Astrée_ frigate, commanded by the famous and unlucky La Perouse, to
take the _Zélé_ in tow.
It was two hours before the cable was made fast, and they were on their
way to Guadaloupe. By daylight, about five o’clock, Grasse and the ships
closest to him had fallen to leeward. When the first rays of the sun
showed them to the English fleet, now heading towards them, they were
stretching over from nine to fifteen miles of water to westward of the
Saints. Sir Charles Douglas, who was already up on board the
_Formidable_, saw that the course of the English would cut right through
them. He hurried down to the Admiral’s cabin to report that “God had
given him his enemy on the lee bow.” From Rodney to the youngest middy
in the fleet, all men saw that the battle was coming now.