Hood proposed to surprise de Grasse at anchor and attack him at daybreak on the morning of the 24th of January. He knew that the enemy were lying in Basseterre Roads, a few miles from Brimstone Hill. To counterbalance the numerical superiority of the French fleet, Hood, in his plan of attack, proposed to throw the entire British squadron on one portion of the enemy, which he hoped to overwhelm before the rest could weigh and come to the rescue. Then he would be able, he expected, to match himself effectively against what would remain of the French. The plan was foiled at the outset by the blundering of the officer of the watch on board the Nymphe, a frigate, which, during the night of the 23rd, in the dark got across the bows of the Alfred, a seventy-four, the leader of the battle-line. She caused a collision that damaged the Alfred very seriously, and nearly cut the Nymphe in two.
Owing to the collision Hood’s entire plan had to be altered. The repairs to the Alfred took all day on the 24th and until ten o’clock on the morning of the 25th, before the ship was again fit for service, and during that time the rest of the British fleet lay-to. They were already in sight of St. Kitts, with the result that the news of Hood’s arrival in the neighbourhood, up to then unsuspected, reached the French Admiral. Now there was no longer a question of surprise. Before he actually sighted the British fleet, de Grasse had got ready for Hood, and had had time to get under way and stand out to meet him.
Hood, disappointed though he was, was not baffled. He had a second plan of action in his mind. He next began to manœuvre as if he did not wish to come to close quarters with de Grasse—as, indeed, might well be the case, looking at the odds. He made a series of feints, as though he desired to shirk a battle and slip away, on which the French Admiral, becoming more and more confident, stood boldly out to sea after him. That was Hood’s game. He drew de Grasse clear of St. Kitts and to leeward of the island, manœuvring meanwhile so as to keep the weather-gage for himself. Then, suddenly hauling his wind, Hood dashed in, making for the anchorage the French had quitted in Basseterre Roads.
He swept in so close along the shores of Nevis—to prevent the enemy getting within him—that one of his frigates, the Solebay, “was wrecked from not having room to pass between the line-of-battle ship she was abreast of and the western point of Nevis.”
Holding his way ahead, Hood slipped right past the French and raced de Grasse for his own anchorage. Hood won the race on the post. After a flying interchange of broadsides he brought in his whole fleet, well in hand, right into Frigate Bay, Basseterre Roads, exactly where de Grasse had been lying previously, and occupied the very moorings that the French had originally had. In that way he placed the British fleet between the French troops on shore and their supporting fleet It was a masterstroke. Hood had turned the tables exactly. He completely cut off the French troops on shore from receiving aid from their fleet.
Completely surprised and outwitted by the British Admiral’s daring move, all that de Grasse could do was to attempt to overpower Hood while he was in the act of anchoring. What happened is described by the officer in the British fleet who has already been quoted.
“When he perceived the whole fleet following their leader, he tacked his fleet together ... and, in consequence, the French fleet approached within gunshot at a little before three o’clock. De Grasse, who was in the centre of his line, fetched in the Ville de Paris nearly abreast of the Canada, while the headmost ship of his fleet was drawing in abreast of Sir Samuel Hood’s ship, the Barfleur. Their whole van boldly advanced towards the Barfleur, which reserved her fire until the brave Frenchman approached within musket shot, when she opened such a well-directed and quickly repeated fire, that in a few minutes the French ship had her jib-boom shot away, her sails nearly cut into ribbons, and her rigging so cut up that she quickly put her helm a-weather, and bore away from her redoubted antagonist. De Grasse perceiving an opening in our line, boldly attempted to sever it; but Cornwallis placed himself in the breach, which he so ably defended that his gigantic opponent was glad to relinquish the hazardous enterprise. Hood looked on undismayed at this attack upon his rear, knowing that he could confide in every individual captain, and very coolly ordered the signal to be made for the ships ahead to make more sail, in order to hasten their anchoring as soon as possible. In the meantime, the St. Albans (the leading British ship) had taken up her station, and anchored at 3 p.m., and the other ships did the same in succession, while the centre and rear were closely engaged with the enemy, who pressed them close until every ship was anchored, when the French wore in succession and stood out to sea.”
De Grasse made two fierce attacks on Hood next day.
“On the morning of the 26th, at half-past eight,” continues our officer eye-witness, “the French fleet were seen coming round Nevis Point, intending to force a passage, but so singularly felicitous was the position taken up by the British Admiral, that when the enemy’s leading ship approached, the wind headed her, so that she could not fetch above the third ship in our line. The springs of our van ships were so admirably attended to that the broadsides of four of them were brought to bear at the same time upon the unfortunate Frenchmen, and were opened with tremendous effect.