FOUDROYANT AND CONSORTS, IN ACTION WITH THE GUILLAUME TELL. 1800.
During the early part of the year 1800, a British squadron, composed of the eighty-gun ship Foudroyant, Captain Sir Edward Berry (the same who was captured in the Leander, after the battle of the Nile, as bearer of despatches), and bearing the flag of Rear-Admiral Lord Nelson, the 74-gun ship Alexandria, Captain Ball, the 64-gun ship Lion, Captain Dixon, and the 36-gun frigate Penelope, Captain Blackwood, with two or three sloops and smaller vessels, was stationed off Malta, then in French possession, to prevent succors from being thrown into that island, and to watch the movements of the French ships which were in that safe port.
Among the latter, lying in Valetta, was the French 80-gun ship Guillaume Tell, Rear-Admiral Denis Décrès, and Captain Saunier.
The Guillaume Tell was one of the two French line-of-battle-ships which had escaped from the battle of the Nile, and she had taken refuge at Malta.
Décrès occupied so exalted a position, afterwards, that it will be necessary, before beginning the account of a very remarkable battle, to give some account of his life.
This very distinguished French naval officer was born in 1762, and died in 1820. He entered the navy early, and won his first promotion under Count De Grasse, in America, while he afterwards distinguished himself in the frigate squadron which France sent to the East Indies to annoy the English commerce. In 1793 he was a “capitaine de vaisseau,” but was deprived of his rank by the Revolutionists, because he was a noble. Escaping the guillotine, when thousands of others perished, he was restored to his rank in the navy in 1795. In 1798 he attained the rank of Rear-Admiral, and in that capacity was present at the capture of Malta. He then served at the battle of the Nile, and came back to Malta with the few French vessels that escaped. These were soon blockaded by the English in the harbor of Valetta. Décrès, in conjunction with General Vaubois, conducted the defence of Malta, which continued for seventeen months.
In March, 1800, provisions fell short, and much sickness appeared in the French garrison, and Décrès concluded to embark about twelve hundred men on board the Guillaume Tell, and force the blockade. The English frigate Penelope followed him, but was able to offer no resistance. The next day Décrès fell in with more English ships, and the celebrated engagement which we shall relate further on ensued. Although conquered at last, Décrès received a sword of honor from the First Consul, Bonaparte, for his conduct, and the English “Naval Chronicle” says that this was the warmest resistance ever made by a foreign man-of-war against a superior British force.
Upon his return from captivity in England, Décrès was successively appointed Prefêt Maritime, Commandant of the Western Fleet, and Minister of Marine. He continued to act in this capacity as long as the French Empire lasted; and in it he showed great administrative ability.
During his administration the great works at Cherbourg were materially advanced; as well as those at Nieuwe Dieppe and Flushing, while the docks and construction yards of Antwerp were wholly created. He managed to keep up, and even increase, the strength of the French navy, in spite of their great losses; and he collected the great flotilla of Boulogne, which circumstances rendered useless, however.
Napoleon, who made him, in succession, a Count, Grand Cross of the Legion of Honor, and finally, a Duke, recalled him to his old position during the Hundred Days; and when the Emperor finally fell, he was retired by the Bourbon government.
Duke Décrès survived many bloody battles, to be at last assassinated by his valet. This man, who had been robbing him for a long time, placed a quantity of powder, with a slow match, under Décrès’ mattress. Stealing into the Duke’s bedroom at night, he blew him up. The valet, in his perturbation at what he had done, threw himself out of the window, and was killed. His master died a few days after, aged 58 years.
And now to return to this celebrated action.
At eleven o’clock at night, on the 30th of March, 1800, the Guillaume Tell, taking advantage of a strong southerly gale, and the darkness that had succeeded the setting of the moon, weighed anchor and put to sea.
About midnight the English frigate Penelope, which was on guard off the harbor, discovered the French ship, under a press of sail, with the wind on the starboard quarter. The Penelope at once made the necessary signals to the other blockading ships, and then tacked, and stood after the Tell. In half an hour she was close up with the chase, and luffed up, and gave the Tell her whole broadside; receiving in return, only the Tell’s chase guns.
The French ship, aware that if she brought to, she would soon have upon her the whole of the English blockading ships, whose lights could be already seen on the horizon, wisely kept her course to the northward.
The Penelope was faster than the Tell, and was commanded by an experienced seaman, and she continued to follow her, and to occasionally luff, and pour in a broadside, so that, just before daybreak, the Guillaume Tell’s main and mizzen-top-masts, and her main-yard came down. She was thus reduced, except her mizzen, to her head-sails; and these were greatly damaged by the Penelope’s shot. She had also lost many men from the English frigate’s raking shots.
The Penelope skillfully avoided exposing herself to a broadside from so powerful a ship, and had the good fortune to escape much damage to her sails and rigging. She had lost her master, killed, and a few wounded.
About five in the morning the Lion, 64, after pressing sail, arrived up. Steering between the Penelope and the crippled Guillaume Tell, and so near to the latter that the yard-arms of the two ships barely passed clear, the Lion ranged up on the port side of her opponent, and poured in a destructive double-shotted broadside. The Lion then luffed up across the bow of the Guillaume Tell, the jib-boom of the latter passing between the main and mizzen shrouds of the former. Of course, with an inferior complement of men, the Lion did not wish to be boarded, and, fortunately for her, the Tell’s jib-boom soon carried away, leaving the Lion inaccessible to boarders, but in an excellent position across the Guillaume Tell’s bows. Here the Lion, aided by the Penelope kept up a heavy fire, for about half an hour, when the Tell had so damaged the Lion that she was forced to drop astern; still firing, however, as did the Penelope, whenever an opportunity offered.
At six o’clock the Foudroyant came up. Lord Nelson was not on board, having been left, sick, at Palermo; and Captain Dixon, of the Lion, was the senior officer to Captain Sir Edward Perry, of the Foudroyant. The latter ship, under a crowd of sail, ranged up so close to the Guillaume Tell that her spare anchor just cleared the Tell’s mizzen-chains, and called to her to strike; accompanying the summons by a treble-shotted broadside. The only answer of the French ship was a similar broadside, which cut away a good deal of the Foudroyant’s rigging. The latter, having so much sail set, necessarily shot ahead, and did not again get alongside the Tell for several minutes. Then the two large ships engaged, and the Guillaume Tell’s second broadside brought down many of the English ship’s spars, and cut her sails to pieces. She then dropped alongside the Tell, still firing occasionally; as did the Lion, on the Tell’s port side, and the Penelope, on her port quarter. Under this unremitting and galling fire the gallant French ship’s main and mizzen masts came down; and the Foudroyant, having cleared away the wreck of her fallen spars, and to some extent refitted her rigging, again closed with the Guillaume Tell, and after a few broadsides, was nearly on board her. At eight o’clock the foremast of the Tell fell, and she was totally dismasted. At a few minutes after eight the gallant Frenchman was rolling, an unmanageable hulk, with the wreck of her masts disabling her port guns, and the violent rolling, in her dismasted state, requiring the lower deck ports, on both sides, to be closed.
The Foudroyant was on one quarter, the Lion on the other, and the Penelope close ahead. Under these circumstances the Guillaume Tell struck her colors.
Both the Foudroyant, 80, and the Lion, 64, were in too disabled a state to be able to take possession of the French 80-gun ship. That duty devolved upon the Penelope. The other vessels had enough to do to take care of themselves. Some English brig sloops and a bomb-vessel witnessed this singular engagement, but appear to have taken no part in it.
A more heroic defence than that of the Guillaume Tell is not be found in the record of naval actions; and the defeat in this case was more honorable than half the single ship victories which have been so loudly praised. To the Penelope belongs the special credit, next to the Guillaume Tell herself. Next to the frigate, credit is due to the Lion. It was, of course, the arrival of the Foudroyant which turned the scale. Had that ship, single handed, and so nearly matched, met the Tell, the contest would have been between two of the most powerful ships that had ever so met, and the chances are that the Guillaume Tell, so gallantly manned, and so ably commanded, would have come off the conqueror. This is conceded by all the English accounts.
All of the vessels engaged, except the Penelope, were so damaged that it was with difficulty they reached port; the Penelope towing the prize into Syracuse.
The Guillaume Tell was eventually taken to England, and received into the Royal Navy under the name of Malta, and she long remained one of the finest ships in the English service.