Clear daylight came about half-past five. It disclosed the entire force of the enemy, both men-of-war and convoy. They were full in sight to the north-east, an irregular array of ships stretching along under the high land of Dominica, and from six to twelve miles off. The leading French ships were trying to weather the northernmost point of the island and work round into the stretch of open water between Dominica and the next island to northward, Guadeloupe, but their progress was slow. Since midnight the wind had fallen away until it was now nearly a dead calm. The bulk of De Grasse's ships were lying off Prince Rupert's Bay with barely steerage way. Rodney, farther to seaward, was in like case. Until nearly seven o'clock it was impossible to move on either side. Then there came a change. Towards seven o'clock the sea-breeze from the north-east, blowing through the channel between Dominica and Guadeloupe, began to reach Hood's ships at the head of the British line. The breeze carried Hood forward and out into the channel; but at the same time it caused him to break away and separate from his own fleet. Rodney himself with the whole of the British centre, and Drake with the rear squadron, were left at some distance astern, beyond the reach of the breeze. They remained unable to get clear of the belt of calm under the lee of Dominica.[24] A gap was formed in the British line as Hood was swept more and more ahead, and it widened rapidly.
The opportunity was too good for De Grasse to miss. He had the windward berth, and fourteen or fifteen of his ships, helped by the same breeze that carried Hood forward, were simultaneously getting clear of the island and into the channel. Only eight ships were with Hood. De Grasse saw a chance of dealing his opponent a telling blow by crippling Hood before the British centre and rear squadrons could move to his support. He signalled to De Vaudreuil, who led the French line, to bring Hood's isolated squadron to action at once.
An incident of the most exciting and extra-ordinary kind occurred while De Vaudreuil, who well knew what kind of action his leader intended him to fight, was preparing to carry out his orders. Two French ships, to leeward of the rest, attempted to cut across the head of Hood's ships, which were sailing in close order at one cable interval. The two had got separated from their consorts during the night, and were taking the nearest way to rejoin. One of them shirked coming to close quarters, and made a sweep round well ahead of Hood. The other, in the coolest and most insolent way, stood directly for the leader of the British column. She approached deliberately and aggressively, and came on as though she did not care if she came into collision with anybody or not. Her ports were closed down, her ensign staff showed no colours. On the reckless Frenchman came, and the next instant, to the astonishment of the whole squadron, the Alfred, Hood's leading ship, herself gave way, and sheered out of line. The Alfred bore up to allow the enemy's seventy-four to pass. The amazing display of impudence was attended with complete impunity. Everything was done in dumb show. Not a gun went off on either side. Hood's men in the eight ships were all at quarters and ready, fidgeting with suppressed excitement but in hand. Their guns were pointed and run out and all training on the Frenchmen—yet not a shot was, or could be, fired. No signal to 'commence action' had gone up. Until it did, until the red flag broke at the Formidable's foretopmast-head, no captain dared begin. Why Rodney delayed the signal was inexplicable. The Formidable was between five and six miles from Hood at that moment; but on board the flagship they must have seen what was taking place. At any rate it was a fine display of British discipline. In breathless silence the French ship forged slowly past the Alfred's broadside, every gun of which was kept pointed on her, training round and following her as she went by. She made no sign, but held stolidly on for her own fleet, until she had reached a safe distance from the British ships. Then, as if in bravado, the French captain hauled his ports up, ran his guns out, and displayed his colours. Immediately afterwards the Formidable made the signal—'Engage.'
De Vaudreuil at the same moment opened his attack—such as it was. He had had his instructions from De Grasse as to the sort of attack he was to deliver. It was not to be pressed home. No risks were to be run. Hood was to be dealt with by long-range fire from the French 36-pounders, and his ships dismasted and crippled, the French ships themselves meanwhile keeping off as much as possible out of harm's way. With fifteen ships to the British eight, De Grasse anticipated being able to handle Hood so roughly that Rodney would be forced after the fight to stop behind to attend to the repairs of his second in command's squadron, which would let him go on his way to San Domingo without further interference. That was what was in the French admiral's mind. De Grasse would not see that he had only to go one step farther. The gods had favoured him, the odds were all on his side: a little boldness, a little of the furia francese at point-blank range, and Rodney's whole fleet would be out of action for the rest of the campaign. Had De Vaudreuil made use of his superiority on the spot and attacked Hood vigorously at close quarters, there would have been no question of repairs. Hood's squadron would have ceased to exist as a fighting force: twenty-five per cent of Rodney's total strength would have been shorn away at one stroke.[25] When De Vaudreuil began firing, the nearest ships of Rodney's squadron were four miles from Hood, and still becalmed; Admiral Drake and the rear squadron, all also becalmed, were from ten to twelve miles off. It was an anxious moment for the British, until they saw how things were shaping themselves.
De Vaudreuil attacked in a very clever fashion, with a remarkably artistic display of minor tactics. He circled his ships round and round and blazed away with a continuous fire on his opponent, who kept a close line for most of the time, with main-topsails to the mast. At times two or three of the French ships—sometimes, indeed, more—were firing at once on individual British ships. The Barfleur, we are told, 'had at one time seven and generally three ships upon her.'[26] Hood remained very little the worse for his hammering, and after three-quarters of an hour's firing De Vaudreuil gave over for a time.
The attack was renewed a little before noon with some fresh ships. The breeze had reached the French main body, enabling De Grasse and three-quarters of his fleet to arrive on the scene. It also brought up some of the headmost ships of Rodney's own squadron, the Formidable among them, but these were far fewer than the French, who throughout had a superiority within the fighting zone of nearly two to one. The rear division of Rodney's squadron and the whole of Drake's still remained becalmed a long way astern. Once again De Grasse refused to seize his chance and push his advantage home. 'Had the French fleet come down as they ought,' said Rodney, 'in all probability half my fleet would have suffered extremely; but they, as usual, kept an awful distance, and only made a cannonade!'[27] For upwards of an hour and a half the firing went on, and then it ceased for the day. Rodney's rear division and Drake's ships had at last got a breeze and were beginning to work up into action. On seeing that, De Grasse broke off the fighting abruptly and drew off out of range. His half-hearted game had failed entirely. None of Hood's ships had suffered damage that could not be repaired at sea within twenty-four hours. On the other hand, the straight shooting of Hood's gunners, long as the range had been, had severely mauled some of De Vaudreuil's ships. On board the Formidable, in the short time she was in action, three men were killed and ten wounded; the killed including an officer. Lieutenant Hill—'my best lieutenant,' as Rodney called him.
De Grasse employed the afternoon in working to windward towards the Saints, a group of islets about six miles to southward of Guadeloupe. Rodney, after reversing the order of his line so as to bring Drake's fresh ships to the van and place Hood's squadron in rear, hove-to in order to give the damaged ships an opportunity for attending to their repairs.
They remained hove-to until daybreak next morning (Wednesday, the 10th of April), when once more Rodney took up the chase. The French were in sight, some twelve miles off. All day Rodney chased hard, beating up against a stiff north-easterly breeze. The French admiral showed no disposition to turn on his pursuers and fight. 'The French,' wrote Rodney, 'always had it in their power to come into action, which they cautiously avoided.' De Grasse held on his course, and gaining steadily during the day led by fifteen miles at nightfall. He was by then near the Saints. Rodney's last signal before sunset was 'General chase,' so as to give his ships every chance of doing their best independently. There was little fear of missing the enemy. Throughout the night the flashes of the French signal-guns and their signal-flares and false fires were plainly visible.
In spite of Rodney's efforts, however, the French gained on him in the night. To the British admiral's bitter disappointment, on Thursday morning the enemy were nearly out of sight. Only a few of their ships were to be seen. De Grasse, indeed, had secured so long a lead that already a large part of his fleet had weathered the Saints. It looked, in fact, as though the enemy were going to get away clear after all. Rodney, however, was not a man to despair. 'Persist and conquer,' was, as he himself said, his favourite maxim in war. He held doggedly on, trusting to the chapter of accidents. It was, no doubt, all he could do. Anyway, as events proved, it was the right thing.