The steady bombardment from land and sea had greatly reduced the French squadron in the harbour, but two of their ships remained in a condition to aid in the defence as late as the 24th of July. These were the Prudent, 74, and the Bienfaisant, 64. Boscawen resolved to cut them out, that is, to send in armed boats to board them and bring them away. At noon of the 24th a barge and a pinnace or cutter from every ship, each commanded by a lieutenant and a mate or midshipman, met at the flagship. The command of the whole was given to George Balfour of the Etna fireship, and John Laforey of the Hunter sloop, the two senior commanders of the fleet. The commander was, and is, the captain who is not of full, or “post” rank. It might have given a thinking Frenchman some ground for reflection if he had known that of these officers Balfour was a Scotchman, and therefore one of a people which had once been the old ally of France, while Laforey’s name is only the anglicised form of La Foret, and he was of Huguenot descent, one of the thousands whose swords and skill were turned against their persecutors by the revocation of the Edict of Nantes. The boats collected at evening round the flagship of Sir Charles Hardy, who commanded the advance ships at the mouth of the harbour. At midnight they put off in a thick fog with muffled oars and in strict silence. The steady fire from our batteries attracted the attention of the French, who were on the ramparts in expectation of an immediate assault, and were keeping up a constant musketry fire. Laforey and Balfour led their boats past the battery at the mouth of the harbour unseen and unheard. They had carefully marked the place of the French ships during the day, and were able to take a sweep out into the harbour and advance through the night and the fog, till the hulks of the Prudent and the Bienfaisant loomed up through the darkness. Then the uncontrollable love of the British seamen for shouting broke out into wild cheering, and all the boats dashed alongside the liners. Laforey carried the Prudent and Balfour the Bienfaisant. One of them is said by tradition to have made his way into the bows of the French ship by a place more convenient than seemly. The actual taking of the vessels was not difficult, as most of their crews were ashore aiding in the defence. But the noise in the harbour drew the fire of the land batteries, and the duty of taking the prizes out was one of great hazard. The Prudent was aground and could not be moved, so that Laforey had to set her on fire, but the Bienfaisant was towed away in spite of the fire from the batteries. It was next day that M. Drucourt surrendered. The total loss of the French Navy was four line-of-battle ships burnt and one taken, four vessels sunk to block the entry to the harbour and frigate taken. Only one vessel, the Comète frigate, found an opportunity to slip through the blockade and escape to France.
After the fall of Louisbourg, Sir Charles Hardy was despatched to the mouth of the St. Lawrence with a body of troops, commanded by Wolfe, to destroy some French ports and intercept the squadron of Duchaffault, who, it was calculated, would endeavour to get away before the winter. The destruction was effected, but the ships escaped. Boscawen returned home with the bulk of the fleet, leaving Rear-Admiral Durell to winter in Halifax, and resume the blockade of Quebec in spring. The victorious British fleet and the French squadron were making their way home in the stormy autumn weather by the same route. On the 27th October, when Boscawen’s ships were much scattered by gales and he had only four liners—one being the captured Bienfaisant—and some frigates with him, he fell in with Duchaffault, seventy miles to the west of Ushant. The French squadron consisted of four of the line and one 56-gun ship belonging to the American company. It had just captured the Carnarvon, East Indiaman. The stormy weather prevented a close action, which was fortunate for the Frenchman, for two of his liners were only armed en flûte. Duchaffault’s vessels scattered after some confused firing. He himself got to the Basque Roads, the Carnarvon was retaken, and the other vessels, with one exception, reached home. The unlucky ship which did not was the Belliqueux, 74, commanded by Captain Martel, who seemingly became confused between the bad weather and the British fleet. He lost his course completely, came up on the wrong side of the Land’s End, and was embayed in the Bristol Channel. While at anchor under Lundy, he was sighted by the Antelope, 50, Captain Thomas Saumarez. According to our account the Belliqueux surrendered, and was a valuable prize, for she was found to be full of fine furs. The French will have it that she was unfairly taken, her captain having appealed to the humanity of our officer on the ground of the distressed state of his ship, and having also cited cases in which English vessels had been helped at French ports in war. The incredible tale is still told to illustrate the “disloyalty” of the English.
It goes much further to prove how much the French warships were used as transports and traders, partly by the Government, but also by their own officers, who made up for bad and irregular pay by what they called la pacotille, i.e. commercial ventures. If Captain Martel did, as his countrymen say, propose to go into Bristol and throw himself on the “loyalty” of the English for relief, it is also highly probable that he meant to get money for his furs from the Bristol merchants.
We have now come to the annus mirabilis of the Seven Years’ War, 1759. It was a year of extraordinary events and changes of fortune, and was also emphatically the year of the navy. From first to last the fleet was our main weapon, but both before and after 1759 it met with no worthy adversary at sea, and was mostly employed in co-operating with troops. In this year it had to contend with other fleets, and the tale to be told is one of true naval warfare.
The experience of 1758 had not been wholly lost on the French Government, incapable as it was. It had been brought to see that its fleets must be better used if its colonial possessions were not to fall one by one before such expeditions as had taken Louisbourg. To meet the English everywhere was plainly impossible, but there was one course which, if followed with success, would bring swift and decisive victory. England itself might be invaded. A blow struck home to her heart would be mortal, and would at once undo all the effect of her successes in distant seas. The ministers of King Louis XV. were the more encouraged to try the venture because they were convinced that the British fleet would be so weakened by distant enterprises as to be unable to collect a superior force in the Channel. So a plan such as had been laid before by Louis XIV., and was to be laid again by Napoleon, was drafted. Troops were collected on the coast of Normandy, and at Vannes in the Morbihan, on the south side of Brittany. To clear the way for them the fleet was to be used in a fashion which shows that the boasted originality of Napoleon’s genius was in this, as in so many other fields, largely mere imitation of the methods of the old monarchy. The first object was to draw off and distract the British fleet. A squadron was to be prepared at Dunkirk, and put under the command of Thurot, a very brave and honest privateer captain, who had made for himself a reputation. It was to sail north and draw off our ships by menacing the coasts of Scotland and Ireland. The main French fleet had its headquarters at Brest, and was to be led by M. de Conflans, Vice-Admiral and Marshal of France. La Clue was to sail from Toulon, pass the Straits and join the fleet at Brest. The two were then to cover the passage of the army under the Duc d’Aiguillon, which again was to come out from Vannes in transports, and from the coast of Normandy in flat-bottomed vessels building at Havre. It will be seen that this is essentially Napoleon’s plan in a simpler and less hazardous form, with the further merit that it was to be executed by the French fleet alone, and not with the co-operation of a most inefficient and reluctant ally. His scheme could not have come within measurable distance of success save by miracles of good fortune and the help of incredible ineptitude on our side on which he had no right to calculate. Of this one it may be said that if the French fleet had been efficient, and the chiefs prompt and bold, it might at least have driven us hard in the Channel. But it needed these conditions, and also that the naval resources of England should have been less than they were, and her admirals less vigilant and resolute. As every one of these conditions was wanting, the invasion scheme broke down in a long succession of failures and disasters. Pitt met it by effectual counter-measures in European waters, and did not for one instant slacken in his efforts to sweep the French from the continent of North America, the West Indies, and the Eastern Seas. Every aggressive French naval force in Europe was faced by an opposite more powerful than itself, and meanwhile Wolfe and Saunders sailed to Quebec, while Moore and Hodgson acted in the West Indies. In those waters the French Navy did appear, represented by a squadron under M. de Bompart, who sailed early and came back late, in time to be one of the causes which hurried on the final disaster of the great invasion scheme.
In all this year the sun looked down, as the world rolled round on its diurnal course, first on Pocock and D’Aché contending on the coast of Coromandel, then on the mobile, elastic, and impenetrable barrier drawn by the fleets of Boscawen and Hawke round the coast of France, then on the British squadron helping to break the French dominion in America to pieces. All else went on behind the home fleets, and was dependent on them, and as no narrative can be simultaneous, but must needs be consecutive, the first place is to be given to the operations of the war in Europe. At the most northerly point of the line we had to defend, Commodore Boys was stationed to watch Thurot’s squadron in Dunkirk. Admiral Smith was stationed with Piercy Brett in the Downs, and between them and Boys, Rodney watched the flotilla preparing at Havre de Grâce. Hawke, with the grand fleet, took in hand the blockade of Brest, while the duty of preventing the junction of La Clue with Conflans, by blockading Toulon, or by holding the Straits of Gibraltar, was entrusted to Boscawen. A glance at the map will show that the advantage of position lay with us. The hazards and uncertainties of war at sea are always many—and they were more numerous in the times when the ships depended on sails and the wind. Yet the balance of chances was on our side, since it was more probable on the whole that Hawke and Boscawen could combine, if either failed to stop his immediate adversary, than that Conflans or La Clue could. On the supposition, however, that Boscawen was eluded and left behind, so that Hawke was in peril of having both French fleets on him at once, he could still fall back on, or be joined by, the ships in the Downs. Then he would be able to give battle, while Boscawen could follow, and either make our force overwhelming, or bring up a fresh squadron on the French when newly damaged by battle. Our squadrons had in fact the advantage of having shorter distances to go than the French in order to join forces, and even if driven back they would be driven back on the support of friends.
In order of time the first effectual blow struck by our navy at the French as they endeavoured to unite for the invasion of England was the bombardment of Havre, on the 2nd July, by Rodney. Flat-bottomed boats were being constructed there, and we poured bombs on them, with good effect, for a whole day. In order to direct the service the better, Rodney transferred his flag from the Achilles, 60, which drew too many feet of water to come close in on that shallow coast, to the Venus frigate, commanded by Captain Samuel Hood. This service brought together two men of strong and widely different character, who will be found acting together at a great crisis twenty-two years later—not, however, for the first time, for Hood had been a subordinate with Rodney in the Ludlow Castle long before. The bombardment was effective, and so was a stroke struck at some of the French boats as they endeavoured to slip down the coast later on. Meanwhile Boys watched Thurot at Dunkirk so closely that the Frenchman had no chance to escape till the very end of the year. The first ruinous blow at the complicated French scheme was given far to the South.
Boscawen sailed from Spithead on the 14th April with eight sail of the line and frigates to take over the command on the Mediterranean. He joined Brodrick, who was already blockading Toulon, off Cape Sicié, on 16th May. The fleet now consisted of fifteen ships of the line, with twelve frigates and sloops and two fireships. La Clue, who had been unable to drive off Brodrick’s smaller force, could do nothing against Boscawen. His squadron was not yet ready for any service. The blockade lasted till the 8th July, when want of water and the necessity for cleaning his ships compelled Boscawen to return to Gibraltar. While before Toulon he had made an unsuccessful attempt to destroy two French frigates under protection of the coast batteries. He reached Gibraltar on the 4th August, after taking in fresh water on the neutral coast of Spain, and began to clean and refit. Frigates were stationed on the Spanish shore and the coast of Barbary to give notice of any attempt of the French to pass the Straits.
The retreat of our squadron opened the way to the French, and if La Clue had thought himself able to act at once, he might have passed the Straits while Boscawen’s ships were taking in their water on the coast of Spain. But the sense of inferiority, material and moral, which plainly weighed on the minds of all French naval officers in this year, made him hesitate. Having that to do which could only be done by extreme promptitude, he did not leave Toulon till the early days of August, when the British admiral was already at Gibraltar, and in a position to intercept him in the Straits. During the night of the 16th-17th of August the French fleet approached the passage leading to the Ocean. It was sighted by Captain M‘Cleverty, of the Gibraltar frigate, who was cruising between Estépona and Ceuta Point, and who reported at once to the admiral. Boscawen’s fleet was still at work refitting, and in the flagship, the Namur, the sails were unbent—that is, not fixed to the yards. But such good speed was made that by ten o’clock at night the ships were all out. They went as they were ready and as place served, with no pedantic attention to the fopperies of order. Boscawen had with him the Warspite, Culloden, Swiftsure, Intrepid, America, Portland, and Guernsey. Admiral Brodrick could not clear the bay till later than his commander-in-chief, and followed him with the other ships. There was an interval of some miles between them, but the wind was easterly, and Brodrick was certain of being able to join his chief if the leading ships were able to overtake the enemy. Both pressed eagerly along the route they calculated that the enemy must have followed.
Meanwhile the French admiral, who had with him twelve sail of the line and three frigates, had headed his pursuers, and as the British ships were leaving Gibraltar Bay had got as far as Cape Spartel, and had cleared the current which runs from the ocean into the Mediterranean. At ten at night he had his ships about him, though not in good order; for some of them were bad sailers, and were lagging behind his flagship L’Océan. Yet he believed that he could communicate his orders, or at least show the course he meant to follow. So he headed W.N.W., and then put out the guiding light of the flagship in order to conceal his route from the English frigates. The calculation that his own captains would see and understand, in the darkness and the excitement, was rash—and all the more because when he left Toulon it was understood that if the Straits were passed the fleet was to head for Cadiz, anchor there, and make another start. It was a foolish plan, because it invited another blockade. La Clue, therefore, was absolutely right in making for the open sea. But now was seen the influence of that miserable theory, that war can be waged effectually by hasty runs from one cover to another and by evasion. Five of the French line and all the frigates were at some distance from the flagship. When La Clue and the six vessels so close to him, that they had no shadow of excuse for not seeing what he was doing, steered to the W.N.W., the laggards acted on the supposition that the obvious course was to run for cover, and headed nearly due north for Cadiz. Thus all through the night the two sailed on diverging lines, and when day broke the French admiral found himself with seven sail only of his fifteen about him, and saw that five of his line and all his frigates had vanished in what direction he knew not, though he might well have guessed, under the horizon.