the foot of the quarterdeck ladder, lieutenant Little- 1797. hales recovered his senses, and forthwith returned Jan. to his post; but his chest and the upper part of his arms were for several weeks afterwards black and blue.*

The details we are about to give of the melancholy fate that attended the Droits-de-l'Homme and her numerous crew, we shall extract partly from a french account, and partly from the narrative of lieutenant Pipon already alluded to. The proximity of the land was discovered at about the same time on board the Indefatigable and Droits-del'Homme; but the latter, partly perhaps owing to accident, makes the time 6 h. 15 m. instead of 4 h. 20 m. A. M. Very soon after the fatal discovery had been made, and just as she had altered her course to avoid the danger, the foremast and bowsprit of the 74 fell over her bows. This checked the way which the ragged mainsail had given to the ship, and hastened the catastrophe.

The french commodore now resolved to bring up; but all the anchors, except two, had been lost in Bantry bay, and the cables of these had been rendered useless by the enemy's shot. However, a stout hawser was bent to one of the anchors, ready for letting go. Meanwhile, the remains of the mainsail having been blown from the yard, the ship scarcely moved ahead. The anchor was now dropped in 12 fathoms; but it did not hold an instant, and the ship presently struck (according to the french account, at 7 A. M.) on a bank of sand, directly opposite to the town of Plouzenec in the bay of Audierne. The second shock carried away the mainmast by the board. Four or five guns of alarm were fired; and, to ease the ship and endeavour to keep her upright, several of the guns were thrown overboard.

The instant the danger had become evident to the

* Marshall, vol. ii. p. 287.

1797. french crew, the exclamation, "Pauvres Anglais ! Jan. pauvres Anglais ! montez bien vite, nous sommes tous perdus!" resounded through the ship. The english prisoners, whose station during the battle had been the cable-tier, rushed on deck. Here was an awful sight the decks slippery with human gore, the ship without a mast standing, and the breakers all around. The Indefatigable was seen on the starboard quarter, standing off, in a most tremendous sea, from the Penmarck rocks, which threatened her with instant destruction. On the larboard side, at the distance of about two miles, was seen the Amazon, whose fate had just been sealed. That of the Droits-de-l'Homme drew near. She struck. Shrieks issued from every quarter of the ship, and all was horror and dismay. Many early victims were swept from the wreck by the merciless waves, which kept incessantly breaking over the ship. Daylight appeared, and the shore was seen lined with people; but who, in the stormy state of the weather, could not render the least assistance.

As soon as it was low water some of the boats were launched. The first two were carried away by the waves before a person could embark in them, and were dashed to pieces against the rocks that lined the beach. A pass-rope, or vat-et-vient, was next tried; and a raft, constructed of spare yards, was made fast to the end of a rope, which was slackened by degrees from the ship, to allow it to drift on shore; but, the weight of the rope retarding the raft in its progress, and a sea washing off some of the men that were upon it, the remainder cut themselves clear and gained the shore. The attempt to get a rope on shore by this means was again tried, and again failed. At length the ship's master-sailmaker, Lamandé by name, offered to swim on shore with a cord, to which a suitable pass-rope might afterwards be attached; but, by the time he had reached about half way to the shore, he became exhausted with fatigue, and was dragged on board

again by his own cord, without the aid of which he 1797. would certainly have perished. The day closed, Jan. and an awful night ensued.

The dawn of the second day, the 15th, brought with it but an increase of misery. Owing to the sea having stove in the stern, and filled the hold with water, the people had now been nearly 30 hours without any food, and the wants of nature could by many scarcely be endured. At low water this day a small boat was hoisted out, and an english captain and eight seamen, part of the prisoners, succeeded in reaching the shore. Elated at the success of these daring fellows, all thought their deliverance at hand, and many of the Frenchmen launched out on their rafts; but alas! death soon put an end to their hopes. Another night was lingered through. On the third day, the 16th, larger rafts were constructed, and the largest boat was got over the side. The intention was, to place in this boat the surviving wounded, the two women and six children, and the helpless men; but the notion of equality, prevailing over every other consideration, destroyed all subordination, and nearly 120 men, in defiance of their officers, jumped into the boat and sank it. A wave of an enormous magnitude came at the same instant; and, for nearly a quarter of an hour, neither the boat nor its contents were visible. Too soon, however, were seen the bodies of the wretched victims floating in all directions. Touched with the melancholy fate of so many of his brave comrades, a french adjutant-general, named Renier, resolved to gain succour from the shore, or perish in the attempt. He plunged into the sea, and was drowned.

Already nearly 900 souls (according to lieutenant Pipon, but we think the number is overrated) had perished, when the fourth night came with renewed horrors. "Weak, distracted, and wanting every thing," says the lieutenant in his narrative," we envied the fate of those whose lifeless corpses no longer needed sustenance. The sense of hunger was already lost,

1797. but a parching thirst consumed our vitals. Recourse Jan. was had to wine and salt water, which only increased the want. Half a hogshead of vinegar floated up, and each had half a wine glass full. This gave a momentary relief, yet soon left us again in the same state of dreadful thirst. Almost at the last gasp, every one was dying with misery, the ship, which was now one third shattered away from the stern, scarcely afforded a grasp to hold by, to the exhausted and helpless survivors. The fourth day (the 17th) brought with it a more serene sky, and the sea seemed to subside; but to behold, from fore and aft, the dying in all directions, was a sight too shocking for the feeling mind to endure. Almost lost to a sense of humanity, we no longer looked with pity on those who were the speedy forerunners of our own fate,. and a consultation took place to sacrifice some one to be food to the remainder. The die was going to be cast, when the welcome sight of a man-of-war brig renewed our hopes. A cutter speedily followed, and both anchored at a short distance from the wreck. They then sent their boats to us, and, by means of large rafts, about 150, of near 400 who attempted it, were saved by the brig that evening: 380 were left to endure another night's misery, when, dreadful to relate, above one half were found dead next morning."

The man-of-war brig was the Arrogante, commanded by enseigne de vaisseau Provost, and the cutter the Aiguille. Mr. Pipon thus concludes his interesting narrative: "I was saved at about 10 o'clock on the morning of the 18th, with my two brother officers, the captain of the ship, and general Humbert. They treated us with great humanity on board the cutter, by giving us a little weak brandy and water every five or six minutes, after which a basin of good soup. I fell on the locker in a kind of trance for nearly 30 hours; and was swelled to that degree as to require medical aid to restore my decayed faculties. We were taken to Brest almost

naked, having lost all our baggage. There they gave 1797. us a rough shift of clothes, and, in consequence of Jan. our sufferings, and the help we afforded in saving many lives, a cartel was fitted out by order of the french government, to send us home without ransom or exchange. We arrived at Plymouth on the 7th of March following."

Thus had this mighty fleet, from which so much had been anticipated, utterly failed in its object: some of the ships belonging to it had perished on the rocks or in the waves, others had been captured by the enemy, and the remainder, jaded and weather-beaten, had returned into port. The following little table will show, at one view, how the 44 sail, of which that fleet at its departure consisted, were ultimately disposed of:

That a succession of storms, such as those with which the British Channel was visited in the winter of 1796-7, should disperse and drive back an encumbered and (nautically, if not numerically considered) ill-manned french fleet, ought not to create surprise. But that, during the three or four weeks that the ships of this fleet were traversing, in every direction, the English and Irish Channels, neither of the two british fleets appointed to look after them should have succeeded in capturing a single ship, may cer