The anxiety of the French government about the convoy, and the embarrassment which would be caused by its loss, were obvious incentives to the British authorities to do all in their power to intercept it. The Channel fleet, so called from the ports upon which its operations were based, had returned from its cruises of the previous year in December, and had since then remained at anchor, repairing and refitting for the next year's work. Its commander, Lord Howe, as has before been said, [78] was averse from keeping the sea in winter with the heavy ships. According to his system of warfare, the fleet should be anchored at some convenient point on the Channel coast, and depend upon frigates stationed before the French ports to bring it word of the enemy's movements. Had, however, the expected convoy in 1794 sailed from America as soon as it was expected to do, it would have reached its own ports before the British had left their anchors.
On the 2d of May the Channel fleet, numbering thirty-four ships-of-the-line and attended by fifteen frigates and smaller ships-of-war, sailed from Spithead. It had under its charge one hundred and forty-eight sail of merchantmen, bound to Newfoundland and to the East and West Indies. Upon arriving two days later off the Lizard, a promontory near the south-west extremity of England and a hundred miles due north of the Island of Ushant, Howe detached eight ships-of-the-line to accompany the convoy to the latitude of Cape Finisterre, on the north-west coast of Spain. After performing this service, six, under Admiral Montagu, were to cruise between Cape Ortegal and the latitude of Belle-Isle, to intercept the convoy from America. The width, over two hundred miles, of the belt of ocean to be covered by these six ships with their accompanying frigates, taken in connection with the chances which night and fog might give the French convoy for passing unobserved, illustrates the comparative disadvantages of lying in wait at the supposed point of arrival, instead of at the known port of departure, for a body of vessels whose precise destination is in doubt.
Howe, with the twenty-six ships remaining to him, steered directly for Ushant, reconnoitred Brest, and, having ascertained that the bulk of the French fleet was still in port, proceeded to cruise in the Bay of Biscay, moving backward and forward across the probable track of the expected convoy. On the 19th of May he again looked into Brest, and found that the French had sailed. The same evening a frigate from Montagu joined him, requesting a re-enforcement, as the rear-admiral had learned from a captured vessel that Nielly's squadron was at sea, and that Van Stabel's force numbered four of the line. He consequently anticipated the possibility of falling in with nine ships-of-the-line, which would be too large a number for his own six to meet. As the frigate, of course, brought word where Montagu was to be found, Howe, knowing that the main French fleet was out, steered at once to join his subordinate; but ascertaining later, from passing vessels, that Villaret had been seen in a position and heading a course which would take him well clear of Montagu, he abandoned this purpose and went directly in pursuit of the enemy. The latter, by the information he received, numbered twenty-six ships-of-the-line, precisely equalling his own fleet.
A week, however, was to elapse before he found the French. On the morning of the 28th of May, the wind being then south by west, the lookout frigates signalled a strange fleet to windward. It proved to be that of Villaret, then steering north-north-east, nearly before the wind, in three columns. At the time of this meeting, Howe was running back to the eastward with a fair wind, having actually gone a hundred miles west of the enemy's rendezvous without finding him. The French admiral stood on until he could recognize the British, and then hauled to the wind, intending to form his line-of-battle on the port tack, heading west or a little south of it. The inexperience of the captains, of whom a large proportion had no naval training and had never commanded ships in a fleet, led to a long delay and a poor formation. Lord Howe, on the contrary, soon had his fleet in manageable condition, pressing to windward in two columns on the port tack, and with a flying squadron of four fast and handy seventy-four-gun ships well to the windward of the main body. The British fleet was now steering the same course as the French, to leeward, or north, of it, and at noon the distance between the main bodies was from nine to ten miles. The place of this first meeting was about four hundred miles west (and a little south) of the island of Ushant. There was a strong breeze and a moderately heavy sea.
Villaret soon found that the slowness of the formation, to facilitate which many of his ships had to heave-to, [79] was causing the line to set gradually to leeward, toward the British. Four also of his fleet were separated from the main body, being some distance astern and to windward, two of them slightly disabled. To approach these, and at the same time keep the advantage of the wind, he determined to put the fleet on the other tack. At ten minutes before two in the afternoon the French began tacking in succession, and by quarter past three were all on the starboard tack, heading now east-south-east toward the separated ships. Meantime, the British flying squadron, acting independently of the main body, but under orders to attack the enemy's rear, kept forcing to windward, and at a little after three o'clock one of them was able to open fire, just before the rear French ships went about. The main body tacked between three and four o'clock, and being now on the same course as the French, east-south-east, but entirely out of cannon-shot, carried a press of sail to overtake them.
The ships of the flying squadron, being handled for the most part with vigor and judgment, fulfilled Howe's purpose of making an impression upon the rear of the enemy's column. As soon as the attack became pronounced, one of the French one-hundred-and-ten-gun ships, the "Révolutionnaire," took the extreme rear, and upon her fell the brunt of the action, which lasted this day until after ten P. M.; daylight, at that time of the year and in that latitude, continuing till nearly then. The British advanced ships were joined after some time by two more from the main body, so that the "Révolutionnaire" had to encounter, first and last, some half-dozen hostile seventy-fours. No diagram of this day's fighting need be given. The reader has only to picture a long column of ships steering to the southward and eastward, its rear harassed by the repeated but irregular attacks of a superior hostile detachment.
The "Révolutionnaire" was nobly fought; and the concentration upon her, while eminently judicious, served to bring out vividly the advantage, which should never be forgotten, of one heavy ship over several smaller, even though the force of the latter may, in the aggregate, be much superior. The attacks this day made upon her were, from the nature of the case, not simultaneous. They resembled one of those elaborately combined movements in land warfare, whereby several separate columns are intended to be brought at the same time to the same point, but actually arrive one by one and are beaten off in detail. The result in the present instance was somewhat more fortunate. As darkness fell, Howe called off all but two of the assailants—one having already been driven off—in order to form his line for the night. The "Révolutionnaire" remained in hot action with a small seventy-four, the "Audacious," alone; for the comrade of the latter took no share. At ten P. M., having lost her captain and sixty-two men killed and eighty-six wounded, and with her mizzen-mast shot away, she wore out of action under charge of her fourth lieutenant, the three seniors having been killed or seriously hurt. Covered by the dark she passed to the northward, astern of the British fleet, her remaining masts falling soon after. The "Audacious" was so badly crippled that it took her long to get clear of the French line, and she was unable to rejoin her own that night. The next morning, finding herself isolated and in presence of some enemy's ships, she was forced to run before the wind and was permanently separated from the fleet. The two opponents passed within sight of each other the following day, but they were in no condition to resume the encounter, and both reached port without further injury.