The Company's commanders were not prepared either for the daring or the fury of the Frenchman's onslaught. It is true the Pelican was much superior to any of their own craft singly, being manned by nearly 250 men, and boasting 44 pieces of cannon. The Company's ships lined up, the Hampshire in front, the Dering next, with the Hudson's Bay bringing up the rear.
The combatants being in close proximity, the battle began at half-past nine in the morning. The French commander came straight for the Hampshire, whose captain, believing it was his enemy's design to board, instantly let fall his mainsail and set his fore-top-sail. Contact having been by these means narrowly evaded, the scene of battle suddenly shifted to the Pelican and the Dering, whose mainsail was smitten by the terrific volley. At the same time the Hudson's Bay, veering, received a damaging broadside. The Company's men could distinctly hear the orders shouted by Iberville to discharge a musket fire into the Dering's forecastle, but in this move he was anticipated by the English sailors, who poured a storm of bullets in upon the Frenchman, accompanied by a broadside of grape, which wrought havoc with her sails. While the cries of the wounded on the Pelican could be distinctly heard, all three of the Company's ships opened fire, with the design of disabling her rigging. But the captain of the Hudson's Bay, seeing that he could not engage the Pelican owing to Iberville's tactics, determined to run in front of her and give her the benefit of a constant hull fire, besides taking the wind from her sails. Iberville observed the movement; the two English vessels were near; he veered round, and by a superb piece of seamanship came so near to the Hampshire that the crew of the latter saw that boarding was intended. Every man flew out on the main deck with his pistol and cutlass, and a terrific broadside of grape on the part of the Englishman alone saved him.
Hotter and fiercer raged the battle. The Hampshire's salvation had been only temporary; at the end of three hours and a half she began to sink, with all sails set. When this occurred, Iberville had ninety men wounded, forty being struck by a single broadside. Notwithstanding this, he decided at once to push matters with the Hampshire's companions, although the Pelican was in a badly damaged state, especially the forecastle, which was a mass of splinters.
The enemy made at once for the Dering, which besides being the smallest ship, had suffered severely. She crowded on all sail and managed to avoid an encounter, and Iberville, being in no condition to prosecute the chase, returned to the Hudson's Bay, which soon surrendered. Iberville was not destined, however, to reap much advantage from his prize, the Hampshire. The English flag-ship was unable to render any assistance to the Hudson's Bay, and soon went down, with nearly all on board.
To render the situation more distressing, no sooner had some ninety prisoners been made than a storm arose, so that it became out of the question to approach the shore with design of landing. They were without a long-boat, and each attempt to launch canoes in the boiling surf was attended with failure.
Night fell; the wind instead of calming grew fiercer. The sea became truly terrible, seeking, seemingly, with all its power to drive the Pelican and the Hudson's Bay upon the coast. The rudders of each ship broke; the tide rose, and there seemed no hope for the crews, whose destiny was so cruel. Their only hope, in the midst of the bitter blast and clouds of snow which environed them, lay in the strength of their cables. Soon after nine o'clock the Hudson's Bay and its anchor parted with a shock.
"Instantly," said one of the survivors, "a piercing cry went up from our forecastle. The wounded and dead lay heaped up with so little separation one from the other that silence and moans alone distinguished them. All were icy cold and covered with blood. They had told us the anchor would hold, and we dreaded being washed up on the shore stiff the next morning."
A huge wave broke over the main deck and the ship lurched desperately. Two hours later the cable parted, and the ship was hurled rudderless to and fro in the trough of the sea.
By the French account, matters were in no more enviable state aboard the Pelican; Iberville, however, amidst scenes rivalling those just described, did his best to animate his officers and men with a spirit equalling his own.
"It is better," he cried, "to die, if we must, outside the bastions of Fort Bourbon than to perish here like pent sheep on board."