THE RAMMING OF THE ‘AMIRAL BAUDIN.’

It was just after daylight on the morning of the fourth day that a sort of cheering cry of ‘The enemy are at sea!’ ran all through the ships. Up went the simple signal, ‘Weigh,’ and there was really a horrible contrast between our anxiety and eagerness and the unmoved grind and crunch as link by link the cables came slowly in. But this was soon over, and we were at sea, forming at once in two lines ahead, as before arranged. The report was that the French had left Toulon twelve hours before, steering about S.E., but it had not been possible to count their numbers owing to the darkness. We steamed due east at half-speed; but it was plain to us all that if the French passed through the Straits of Bonifacio we might easily miss them, even though our cruisers were well spread out both ahead and astern. While we were in the middle of debate, down there rolled upon us as dense a fog as ever I saw in the Mediterranean. The Admiral had provided for this as for everything else, and we knew that we must preserve order with the steam syrens only, without the aid of guns; but as it was no use keeping speed, we slowed down. We were like this all day and all night, and at daylight it seemed as thick as ever. The ships had of course been all cleared for action, and we were ready to open fire in a minute, though one naturally prayed that the fog would lift before the enemy appeared. At 8 A.M. it began to clear, and at 9 we distinctly counted twenty-one steam-ships to the south of us. The flag-ship immediately made the signal for eight knots, and gradually altered course towards the strange fleet. We were soon able to make them out as sixteen French battle-ships, in the indented line abreast, steering south, with five cruisers in front of them. They were smoking up a good deal, but at ten or twelve miles distance we could not tell whether they were going at speed.

We soon found they were not, for we began to gain on them, and the signal was made for ten knots. We could tell by the position of the steam cones, that every ship had steam to spare, and I suppose it was the desire of making sure of a compact fleet which kept us at comparatively low speed. Even at ten knots we continued to gain considerably. We were quite two miles off when the French began to open fire from their stern guns, and I am bound to say we were all very much surprised at the bad shots. They fell short and over, right and left, but after quite an hour few ships apparently had been badly hit.

We were still in two lines ahead and were making no reply at all to the French fire. We could not understand, when we had got within 3000 yards, why the Admiral did not put us in line abreast and open fire. But in the middle of our wonder we suddenly saw the French ships open out to right and left, and before we knew where we were the whole mass of the battle-ships were coming right down upon us. We saw at once that it was in anticipation of some such manoeuvre that we had not quitted our first formation.

But the wisdom of our Admirals was at once shown. Orders were given to train the guns abeam and to let the enemy have it at the closest range, abstaining from fire till then. The French, on the other hand, never ceased to fire; but the smoke they made so surrounded them that it was plain they were wasting their ammunition, and did not see so well where they were going. But their rapidity of approach was tremendous, and I could note it as I had no guns to look after and could see nearly all round from the sheltered spot I had chosen.

My ship was near the middle of the port line, and I soon saw the great jet of smoke from the Trafalgar, followed by the roar which denoted the simultaneous discharge of a whole broadside. In less than half a minute there was the puff and the roar of the second ship, the Collingwood, and almost immediately I saw that the Nile, at the head of the other line, had fired. But then I directly saw what I had not been prepared for. I saw the Nile turning round sharp to port, and, looking to the head of my own line, I saw the Trafalgar steaming along our line on the opposite course to ours. It flashed through my mind like a shot, that every ship was turning round after she had fired her broadside, and that consequently the heads of the French lines or groups, after running the gauntlet of our lines, would be met by the ships that had first fired on them, and that as the battle had begun by the ships passing in opposite directions, it would be continued by all the ships with their heads in the same direction.

I do not pretend to say that I knew what all this meant at the moment; indeed, I did not know anything in another minute, for the roar and shake of the whole of our guns, trained on the port beam, knocked the power of thinking out of me. Recovering myself in a cloud of choking smoke, I was first aware that there must have been very little reply to our fire, but two signalmen were stretched on the deck beside me, both quite still; one with his shoulder torn entirely away, and the other bleeding profusely from a wound in his head. There were also, as if through the ship, new sorts of voices which, in hurried and confused utterance, warned me that there were death and wounds elsewhere.

But there was no time to think of it. We were wheeling round after our next ahead; and out of the dense smoke which we were leaving, issued stray missiles tearing past, and sometimes striking davits or stanchions, or shattering the planking of a boat. There was nothing, in fact, now but a roar of guns all round us, and we were covered with a canopy of smoke. The sole design perceptible was that we were only firing into the smoke to starboard, and no missiles were coming from the port side, while every now and then we got a glimpse of our next ahead and next astern.

As we steamed on, messages went from the captain to the lieutenants not to fire any more till they could see the enemy; and it was becoming clear that the French fire was ceasing, though whereabouts they were could hardly be ascertained. Presently, however, we found ourselves quite clear of smoke and could see then that the French ships must, most of them, have stopped, for our vessels—as well as could be seen—were nearly in their old formations, while the French were well astern, still somewhat entangled by the smoke, and evidently in some confusion.

Out of this smoke there quickly emerged a ship, which we made out to be the flag-ship Formidable with a considerable heel to port and steering to the N.W.

With the general signal flying that the Division was to continue its course, the Trafalgar suddenly put on steam and went after the Formidable full speed. The two ships were now in close action and enveloped in smoke, so that we could only make out their positions occasionally, the Trafalgar apparently hanging on the starboard quarter of the Formidable. The firing did not last more than ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, when, the smoke clearing away, it was seen that the Formidable’s colours were down.

What had happened we only knew afterwards. The Formidable had been badly torpedoed in passing, and was steaming as she hoped out of action when we saw her. As the Trafalgar approached, she made a short gallant defence with her guns, and fired two torpedoes at her; but the water was rising in the stoke-holds, and it was impossible to keep steam. Admiral Markham, seeing plainly what the case was, passed close under the Formidable’s stern, and hailed to claim surrender in the interests of humanity, or he would ram and sink her. It was the chance of war, and there was nothing but surrender before our gallant opponent.

Meantime it was plain to be seen how well Sir George Tryon’s orders had worked. Some of our ships were frightfully knocked about, and the Benbow was almost in a sinking state from a number of shot-holes between wind and water; while the Edinburgh was all down by the head, having caught a torpedo near the stem, but the whole of the ships were in two lines as they entered into action, and they now re-formed and headed towards the French, leaving the Benbow, Edinburgh, and the prize French flag-ship together, attended by two or three of the cruisers.

But the most frightful incident of the battle took place in the other line, and I was not an eye-witness of it. I have not mentioned the Polyphemus before, but she was with us and sailed with us. It seems Sir George Tryon’s orders to her were simply to keep out of the way in the first instance, and to strike home should any opportunity offer. Captain Brooke, it appears, running out to starboard of the Admiral’s column, saw his chance in the smoke, and ran straight at the nearest French ship, whose attention was taken up by the fire of our ships on her other side. The shock was horrible, and she scarce had time to extricate herself, when the Amiral Baudin reeled and sank.

It did not appear that the rest of the French ships were as much knocked about as we were, but we afterwards learnt the cause of this. It was simply that the heavy shell of the French had made a greater show on us during our first approach than we had been aware of; but, in passing, our light guns had made terrible havoc amongst the unprotected guns’ crews in the French batteries, while, as they had not reserved their fire, it was not so destructive to us. Then, too, it seems that our manoeuvre was entirely unexpected, and paralysed the action of the leading ships after they had, as they supposed, passed through our fleet. It was, again, our light guns which produced effect, but without making it so visible to outside observers.

The loss of the flag-ship, of the Amiral Baudin, and the great loss in killed and wounded did, however, act in demoralising the ships’ companies, so that three or four of the ships had already drawn off to the north-eastward, and there was for the time a good deal of confusion; but they turned their heads from us and gradually drew out into a line abreast, nearly as we met them at first.

No doubt fearing a repetition of their former manoeuvre, Sir George Tryon kept his fleet still in two lines; but as the French swept round, steering first N.E. and then nearly due north for Toulon, we were broken up into four short columns, and these were presently put into quarter line.

And now we had a game of long bowls for some time, without apparently much damage to either side. We were always being checked in our pursuit by the failure first of one ship, and then of another, to keep steam; and it seemed to be precisely the same with the French, so that darkness closed upon us without either the French being able to draw out of action, or our being able to make it a close one.

Before daylight, our reckoning brought us so close up to Toulon, that, as we had lost sight of the enemy three hours before, signal was made to slow down, and at daylight we could just make out the French closing into the land and disappearing.

Such was the Battle of Sardinia, as I made it out. The French risked it in the hope of falling on the weak Anglo-Italian squadron, and so saving Algeria. It was almost as great a risk for us, being so numerically inferior; but, accepting the position all along, our Admirals so managed that we suffered much less loss in the end. But the feature which struck us all as most remarkable was the fact that while we had two ships practically disabled, and the French had suffered but the same loss, yet we were victorious by reason of the terrible carnage which our lighter guns had caused in the enemy’s ships.

P.S.—I have just learnt that the real cause of the French retreat was news that reached them by a cruiser of the approach of the squadron from Algiers. This Sir George Tryon expected all along, but we knew nothing of it. We met the ships next day. News from England has just come by the Blonde. The German Fleet has joined that of Sir Michael Seymour in the Gulf of Finland, and he has sent home five of his ships. The Duke of Edinburgh has detached two of his, and the whole seven are making the best of their way, with several cruisers, to reinforce us. All idea of further attack on Algiers is given up, and Admiral Markham will sail with ten battle-ships and six cruisers to the Levant, to convoy the troops into the Black Sea, and then to mask the Russian Fleet in Sebastopol. So the Black Sea expedition is to go on. Yet the general opinion amongst us is that our Government are running considerable risks, and that we are relying on the principle of ‘Nothing venture, nothing have.’