Part 3

The _Monmouth_ held her hand. She had done her work, and there was no need to do more now. As the _Monmouth's_ gunner, reporting on the night's expenditure, stated, the ship had fired away no fewer than 80 barrels of gunpowder (about four tons weight of powder), with 1546 round-shot, 540 grape-shot, and 156 double-headed shot.

Then the _Swiftsure_ rounded in to pass between the _Monmouth_ and the _Foudroyant_. All her batteries were lighted up, showing the men standing ready by the guns. Captain Stanhope as he came abreast hailed the _Foudroyant_, asking if she had surrendered. Her ensign was down. It had been shot away about the same time that the mizen-mast went. The reply came instantly--two shotted guns in rapid succession, and a sharp crackle of musketry. M. le Marquis's honour was not satisfied yet. What followed was inevitable. The _Swiftsure_ had now to administer the _coup de grace_ according to the rules of naval war. As the sound of the _Foudroyant's_ defiance died away, the _Swiftsure's_ double tier burst into flame, and the British seventy-four's broadside crashed into the French ship, sweeping her decks from stem to stern. It was enough. The next instant down came the _Foudroyant's_ lights and she called for quarter. The battle was over.

The Marquis du Quesne had refused to surrender to the _Monmouth_ single-handed. It was a point of honour. In the presence of a second British ship and a fresh ship, a seventy-four, his honour was fully satisfied. All the same, when the _Swiftsure's_ officer came on board to receive his sword, he insisted on being taken on board the _Monmouth_ and surrendering it to the commanding officer of that ship, to Lieutenant Carkett, giving it up, we are told, 'with great politeness.' A story was told afterwards that the French commodore expressed himself in bitter terms, and shed tears next morning when in full daylight, at close quarters, he saw the small size of the _Monmouth_ as compared with his own splendid ship. But that is as it may be.

The _Hampton Court_ came up some ten minutes after the _Swiftsure_ had arrived.

It remained now only to count the cost and overhaul damages.

How things stood on board the _Monmouth_ they knew before the night was out. Captain Gardiner was the only officer who had fallen. The four lieutenants of the ship had escaped without a scratch, as had the _Monmouth's_ two marine officers and Lieutenant Campbell. It was otherwise, unfortunately, among the men. The casualties between decks amounted to upwards of 24 per cent of the entire ship's company. The figures as officially returned were--29 killed and 81 wounded--110 altogether. Not a boat was left that could swim; the mizen-mast had been shot right away, smashed through close above the deck; the main-mast, riddled with holes, was tottering; every one of the sails had to be stripped from its yard and new sails bent; most of the rigging was lying in tangled heaps about the decks.

In the _Foudroyant_, the prize-crew that was placed in charge had their work cut out for them in looking after prisoners below and stopping leaks and dangerous shot-holes. The deadly shooting of the _Monmouth_ had in parts almost rent the _Foudroyant_ open. More than seventy shot-holes through the hull were counted, low down, at or near the water-line. All over the hull, more than a hundred shot-holes were to be seen, gaping holes with jagged and splintered edges; and more shots than one had gone through some of the holes. Some of the _Monmouth's_ shots had even gone right through from side to side, leaving enormous rents in the _Foudroyant_ on the unengaged side of the ship where they had smashed their way out. To give an idea of the terrible hammering that the _Foudroyant_ underwent, it may be stated that the repairs to the hull at Portsmouth took eight months to execute, at an expense of L7000, just half the total sum at which the Admiralty Prize Court valued the whole ship for purchase from her captors. As far as could be made out, the _Foudroyant's_ casualties amounted to 190 officers and men killed and wounded; but the French practice of throwing the dead overboard in action as they fell, made it impossible to arrive at the exact figures.

As well as could be managed on the spot, the two ships were cleared of wreckage and put in sea-going trim, and at noon next day, the 1st of March, they set out to rejoin Admiral Osborn, the _Swiftsure_ towing the _Foudroyant_, and the _Monmouth_ under her own canvas, under jury-rig, with the _Hampton Court_ close by in case of need.

They found the admiral with the rest of the fleet off Carthagena. With them was the French _Orphee_, which the _Revenge_ and _Berwick_ had run down and taken within two miles of Carthagena mole. M. de la Clue had missed his chance entirely. He had not stirred, although with the two men-of-war that had got in the night before he had had nine ships of the line, and the British admiral, with five of his ships detached in chase of Du Quesne's squadron, only seven. All that the French admiral had done the livelong day on the 28th had been to man and arm his boats and send them down to paddle about aimlessly at the mouth of the harbour.

The _Monmouth_ and _Revenge_ were ordered to Gibraltar to repair, accompanied by their two prizes. On the way the dead of the _Monmouth_ and the remains of Captain Gardiner were committed to the deep, off Cape de Gata, at half-past three on Saturday afternoon, the 4th of March. All four ships hove-to and half-masted their ensigns during the funeral service, and the bodies were passed overboard to the booming of the _Monmouth's_ minute-guns--his ship's last tribute to her dead captain. No tablet exists to Arthur Gardiner's memory in Westminster Abbey or elsewhere; but that, after all, matters little.

There is in the lone, lone sea A spot unmark'd but holy, For there the gallant and the free In his ocean bed lies lowly. Down, down beneath the deep, That oft in triumph bore him, He sleeps a sound and peaceful sleep, With the salt waves dashing o'er him.

He sleeps serene and safe From tempest and from billow, Where storms that high above him chafe Scarce rock his peaceful pillow. The sea and him in death They did not dare to sever; It was his home when he had breath, 'Tis now his home for ever.

Sleep on, thou mighty dead, A glorious tomb they've found thee, The broad blue sky above thee spread, The boundless ocean round thee. No vulgar foot treads here, No hand profane shall move thee, But gallant hearts shall proudly steer And warriors shout above thee.

And though no stone may tell thy name, thy worth, thy glory, They rest in hearts that love thee well, they grace Britannia's story.[7]

At Gibraltar the _Foudroyant_ was measured and found to be 12 feet longer than the _Royal George_. She was berthed alongside the mole with the _Monmouth_ lying next her, and an officer present graphically describes the disparity of size between them in these terms: 'It was like the Monument overlooking a ninepin!'

The French prisoners were still on board the _Foudroyant_. They went to England in the ship, most of them to be shut up in Porchester Castle, the great war-prison of the South of England in those times. The visitor to the ruins of Porchester Castle to-day, if he explores in a certain part of the keep, will find at one spot, rudely cut in the wall, a string of French names, under a sort of scroll similarly carved roughly in the stonework, with the legend '_Vive le vaisseau le Foudroyant_--1758,' the handiwork, it can hardly be doubted, of some of these very men. The Marquis du Quesne and his first and second captains came to England by themselves, in the _Gibraltar_ frigate, and were interned on parole at Northampton. The other surviving officers of the ship were paroled at Maidstone.

All England rang with Arthur Gardiner's name when, in the first week in April, the _Gibraltar_ arrived at Spithead with Admiral Osborn's despatches, and the _London Gazette_ told the story of how Gardiner had died 'as he was encouraging his people and inquiring what damage they had sustained between decks.' Everywhere, we are told, the news of the taking of the 'mighty _Foudroyant_' and how it was done excited the liveliest enthusiasm. Inn signboards were repainted with pictures of the fight, a favourite way with our eighteenth-century forefathers of commemorating great events; and a ballad was composed about it which was set to a popular tune of the day and sung all over the country. One of the signboards so painted was in existence a very few years ago,--and may be so still,--at Lostwithiel in Cornwall, bearing a representation of two old-fashioned men-of-war in desperate combat, with the legend 'The memorable battle of the _Monmouth_ and _Foudroyant_.'[8] Of the ballad and its music no trace is to be found, although some lines on the fight, apparently contemporary, are in print. One can, though, hardly fancy them being set to any sort of tune, still less anybody trying to sing them. Their shortcomings as verse too are obvious, but one must remember that it was the period when the Poet Laureate was Colley Cibber. There was no market in the days of George the Second for what our present Poet Laureate calls 'the higher kind of poetry.'

STANZAS

On the capture of the _Foudroyant_, of 84 guns, by the _Monmouth_, of 64, Anno 1758.

As Louis sat in regal state, The monarch, insolently great, Accosts his crouching slaves, 'Yon stubborn isle at last must bend, For now my _Foudroyant_ I send, The terror of the waves.

'When once he bursts in dreadful roar, And vomits death from shore to shore, My glory to maintain; Repenting Britons then will see Their folly to dispute with me The empire of the main.'

He spake, th' obedient sails were spread, And Neptune reared his awful head, To view the glorious sight; The Tritons and the Nereids came, And floated round the high-built frame, With wonder and delight.

Then Neptune thus the Gods address'd: 'The sight is noble, 'tis confess'd, The structure we admire; But yet this monst'rous pile shall meet With one small ship from Britain's fleet, And strike to Britons' fire.'

As from his lips the sentence flew, Behold his fav'rite sails in view, And signal made to chase; Swift as Camilla o'er the plain, The _Monmouth_ skimm'd along the main, Unrivall'd in the race.

Close to her mighty foe she came, Resolv'd to sink or gain a name Which Envy might admire; Devouring guns tumultous sound, Destructive slaughter flam'd around, And seas appear'd on fire.

When lo! th' heroic Gardiner fell, Whose worth the Muse attempts to tell, But finds her efforts vain; Some other bard must sing his praise, And bold as fancy's thoughts must raise The sadly mournful strain.

Carkett, who well his place supply'd, The mangling bolts of death defy'd, Which furious round him rag'd; While Hammick[9] points his guns with care, Nor sends one faithless shot in air, But skilfully engag'd.

Baron and Winzar's[10] conduct show'd Their hearts with untam'd courage glow'd, And manly rage display'd; Whilst every seaman firmly stood, 'Midst heaps of limbs and streams of blood Undaunted, undismay'd.

Austin[11] and Campbell next the Muse Thro' fiery deluges pursues, Serenely calm and great; With their's the youthful Preston's[12] name Must shine, enrolled in list of fame, Above the reach of fate.

Hark! how Destruction's tempests blow, And drive to deep despair the foe, Who trembling fly asunder; The _Foudroyant_ her horror ceas'd, And whilst the _Monmouth's_ fire increas'd, Lost all her pow'r to thunder.

Now, haughty Louis, cease to boast, The mighty _Foudroyant_ is lost, And must be thine no more; No gasconade will now avail, Behold he trims the new-dress'd sail, To deck Britannia's shore.

If e'er again his voice be heard, With British thunder-bolts prepar'd, And on thy coast appears; His dreadful tongue such sounds will send, As all the neighb'ring rocks shall rend, And shake all France with fears.

What is more interesting is that one of the _Foudroyant's_ officers, while a prisoner of war on board and on the way to England, wrote a set of verses in honour of the captain of the _Monmouth_. They appeared in the _Gentleman's Magazine_ for July 1758 in this form:--

Chatham, _July 23_.

Mr. Urban--By inserting the following Elegy, which was written by a French officer, taken prisoner on board the _Foudroyant_, you will oblige many of your readers, and particularly your humble servant,

P. Cochet.

ELEGIE SUR LA MORT DU CAPT. GARDINER

Ce heros respectable a fini ses beaux jours, Il a trop peu vecu, ce sage capitaine, Le _Monmouth_ pleure encore l'objet de son amour Et moi la cause de ma gene.

Aux combats il etoit un terrible ennemi, Son exemple animoit le coeur le plus timide, Au milieu des hazards le foible est affermi, Ayant un tel chef pour son guide.

O _Monmouth_! quelle nuit, lorsque le _Foudroyant_, Par ses bouches d'arain menacoit votre ruine, Vous tenez contre lui, vous etes triomphant, La victoire pour vous s'incline,

Conduit par ce heros, vos canons vomissoient La foudre a gros bouillons, et la mort tout ensemble, Il inspiroit sa force a ceux qui combattoient, Ha! l'ennemi le sent et tremble.

O! quel funeste coup, ce heros n'est donc plus? Le brave Gardiner tombe et finit sa vie, Mais il vit dans nos coeurs, il vit par ses vertus, Est-ce le ciel qui nous l'envie?

Quelle aimable douceur envers ses prisonniers, Sa tendresse pour eux egaloit son courage, Il ne ressembloit point aux inhumains guerriers, Qui ne respirent que carnage.

Whatever may be the quality or literary merit of these verses, there could, surely, be no higher tribute to the memory of a British officer, the tribute of an enemy in the bitter hour of defeat; and the incident in all its circumstances is unique. With it we may close the story.

* * * * *

The 'little black ship' _Monmouth_ (Captain Fanshawe's ship), to which the officers of the French flagship _Languedoc_ drank at dinner on the night of the 6th of July 1779, was the next successor to Gardiner's _Monmouth_, and it was this _Monmouth_ on board which, in the East Indies, Captain Alms, on the 12th of April 1782 (actually the same day on which Rodney was fighting his battle in the West Indies) made so heroic a stand. The Camperdown _Monmouth_ came next, and after her a _Monmouth_ that was never commissioned at all. Finally we come to our modern _Monmouth_ cruiser of the present hour.

The quondam French _Foudroyant_, as a man-of-war of the Royal Navy, fought for England and did well. Her successor of the same name in the navy had strangely varied fortunes. She began her life as one of Nelson's flagships; and when she was worn out was sold to a German shipbreaker, by whom she was re-sold at an immense profit to Mr. G. Wheatly Cobb, of Caldicot Castle, Chepstow, in Monmouthshire curiously, who interested himself in the fate of the _Foudroyant_, and 'for Nelson's sake,' as he himself put it, spent L25,000 out of his own pocket in re-purchasing her and re-building and fitting her out to make the old veteran of the sea look, as far as possible, as she appeared in Nelson's time. A cruel fate, however, cut short the nobly conceived project. Our second _Foudroyant_ ended her days off Blackpool, of all places in the world, where, in the summer of 1897, in the hundredth year of her existence, she was wrecked in a gale.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: Pepys's _Diary_, June 30, 1667.--'Several complaints, I hear, of the _Monmouth's_ coming away too soon from the chaine, where she was placed with the two guardships to secure it.']

[Footnote 2: Spanish neutrality was a by-word at this period. England and Spain were not at war yet, but the family relationship between the Bourbons of Versailles and the Escurial caused the latter Power to put the loosest construction on their obligations.]

[Footnote 3: Summary of evidence at the court-martial on Admiral Byng, quoted in Entick's _New Naval History_ (published shortly after Byng's trial), p. 872:--

Tuesday 11 [Jan. 1757]. Captain Gardiner of the _Ramillies_ under Examination and Cross-Examination all Day. He ... said that he advised the Admiral to bear down, that the Admiral objected thereto, lest an Accident of a similar Nature with that of Admiral Mathews should be the Consequence.

Wednesday 12. Captain Gardiner was again examined and made it appear that the Admiral took the whole Command of the Ship from him, and no thing done that day but what he ordered.

Byng's words as to bearing down were these: 'You see, Captain Gardiner, that the signal for the line is out and that I am ahead of the ships _Louisa_ and _Trident_' (which two ships, according to the order of battle, should have been ahead of the admiral). 'You would not have me, as the admiral of the fleet, run down as if I were going to engage a single ship. It was Mr. Mathews' misfortune to be prejudiced by not carrying down his force together, which I shall endeavour to avoid.' One of Byng's ships, ahead of the flagship, had broken down. He would not pass her and go at the enemy, but stopped to re-form and 'dress' his line, during which time the enemy severely mauled Byng's leading ships. The French then drew out of range, and Byng, without further fighting, retired to Gibraltar. At the trial Gardiner was asked what he himself considered being 'properly engaged.' 'What I call properly engaged,' was the answer, 'is, within musket shot.' See _Minutes of the Court-Martial, etc._, published by Order, 1757 (folio).]

[Footnote 4: Log of the _Revenge_, Captain Storr. Admiralty documents, Captains' logs, at the Public Record Office.]

[Footnote 5: Admiralty documents, Captains' logs, _Monmouth_, at the Public Record Office.]

[Footnote 6: Captains' logs, _Monmouth_, at the Public Record Office (Admiralty documents).]

[Footnote 7: _Poems, chiefly Religious_: Rev. H.F. Lyte, 1833.]

[Footnote 8: The 'Monmouth' inn, to which the signboard belonged (now known as the 'Monmouth' hotel) was actually so named in 1758 in honour of Gardiner's _Monmouth_.]

[Footnote 9: Stephen Hammick, Second Lieutenant of the _Monmouth_, in command on the lower deck.]

[Footnote 10: David Winzar, Fourth Lieutenant of the _Monmouth_.]

[Footnote 11: Captain of Marines.]

[Footnote 12: Lieutenant of Marines.]

II

RODNEY'S SHIP ON RODNEY'S DAY

THE _FORMIDABLE_ THAT BROKE THE LINE

Brave Rodney made the French to rue The Twelfth of April 'Eighty two.

_Old Song._

The West Indies is the Station for honour.

Nelson.

'_Who can feel any pride in a mere blustering adjective? We do seriously believe that the Admiralty would add something to the popularisation of the navy by a reform of the naming system. It is proper enough to christen new ships after famous old vessels of the past, and the 'Admirals' also are very proper and pleasant, but why this mania for adjectives and such futilities?_'

So a London newspaper commented on the selection of the name _Formidable_ for the great first-class battleship that to-day bears that name proudly lettered at her stern. Well, we shall see what we shall see. When all is said and done, it may appear, perhaps, that some of us are not so unreasonable after all in taking pride in seeing this 'blustering adjective' inscribed as a man-of-war name on the roll of our modern British fleet. Handsome is, every nursery knows, that handsome does. It is more than highly probable that should the day for 'the real thing,' as Mr. Kipling calls it, come in our present _Formidable's_ time, those to whose lot it may fall to face the _Formidable_ from the enemy's side will think that, in regard to this particular ship at least, there is something in a name.

This is the sort of vessel that our twentieth-century battleship the _Formidable_ is, glancing at some of her points--the details on which she relies to make good the intention of her name. Hard hitting is the _Formidable's_ business in life, so to speak, her _raison d'etre_; her forte, the dealing of knock-down blows. To that end she carries the most powerful guns in existence: 50-ton breech-loaders, a foot in diameter in the bore; capable of hurling gigantic shells each between three and four feet long and weighing 850 lbs., or 7-1/2 cwts., with a bursting charge of three-quarters of a hundredweight of powder or lyddite, through three feet of iron at a mile and a half off, or all the way across from Shakespeare's Cliff at Dover on to the sand dunes round Calais. Each firing charge of cordite weighs by itself nearly 2 cwts.--the weight of a sack of coal as delivered at a house-holder's door from a tradesman's cart,--and each gun by itself takes a year to construct. The _Formidable's_ guns could silence the old 'Woolwich Infants' and the mighty 80-ton guns that the famous _Inflexible_ carried, from a range miles beyond the farthest that the older guns could reach. Yet these less than twenty years ago were reckoned a wonder of the world.

A finger's pressure, nothing more, The ponderous cannon's thund'ring roar, A passing cloud of smoke, and lo! The waves engulf the haughty foe!

wrote a versifier once about what the guns of the _Inflexible_ could do. With less than half the weight, they are considerably more powerful weapons than the 110-ton monsters of the _Benbow_ and _Sans Pareil_ and the ill-fated _Victoria_, one of which was tested at Shoeburyness against a specially-built-up target of enormous proportions, and sent its shot, as easily as one can push one's finger into a lump of putty, clean through 20 inches of steel-faced compound armour, 8 inches of cast iron, 20 feet of oak, 5 feet of granite, 11 feet of concrete, and lastly 6 feet of brick--to a depth of 44 feet 4 inches altogether. As to the actual size of the guns, of the ship's heavier pieces: each is 41 feet long--13 yards and 2 feet from muzzle to breech. Pace this out on a gravel garden-walk, and imagine the length covered by a gigantic steel tube, three-quarters of a yard across at one end and swelling gradually to over 5 feet thick at the other--that may give some idea of the bulk of a _Formidable_ gun. Such a piece of ordnance would have suited the mood of old Marshal Soult when he refused to fight a duel on the score of his dignity. 'A marshal of France,' growled the old gentleman at his challenger's seconds on their calling to offer him the choice of weapons, 'a marshal of France only fights with cannon!'

Four of these weapons form the _Formidable's_ 'main armament.' They are mounted, two on the quarter-deck and two on the forecastle, each pair in a circular barbette 37-1/2 feet in diameter, walled round with 12-inch thick Harveyed steel of immense resisting capacity, and weighing upwards of 315 tons. They can load at any angle of elevation or of training, and the ammunition-supply mechanism ensures the guns being loaded as fast as they can fire. _Bis dat qui cito dat_, 'who gives quickly gives twice,' is the maxim of the modern navy gunner. As far as her 12-inch guns are concerned, the _Formidable_ could let the enemy have two 850-lb. lyddite shells from each gun every eighty seconds. The ship's magazines and shell-rooms stow eighty rounds for each gun. Fired at the same time, the four guns exert a combined force enough to lift the whole ship up bodily ten feet.