The Life of Thomas, Lord Cochrane | Page 8

Lord Thomas Cochrane
of which in all directions our little boat
narrowly escaped being swamped. The explosion-vessel did her work
well, the effect constituting one of the grandest artificial spectacles
imaginable. For a moment, the sky was red with the lurid glare arising
from the simultaneous ignition of fifteen hundred barrels of powder.
On this gigantic flash subsiding, the air seemed alive with shells,
grenades, rockets, and masses of timber, the wreck of the shattered
vessel. The sea was convulsed as by an earthquake, rising, as has been
said, in a huge wave, on whose crest our boat was lifted like a cork, and
as suddenly dropped into a vast trough, out of which as it closed upon
us with the rush of a whirlpool, none expected to emerge. In a few
minutes nothing but a heavy rolling sea had to be encountered, all
having again become silence and darkness."
In spite of its bursting too soon, the explosion-vessel did excellent work.
The strong boom, composed of large spars bound by heavy chains, and

firmly anchored at various points in its length of more than a mile,
which was supposed to constitute an impassable barrier between the
English ships that were outside and the French ships locked behind it,
was broken in several parts. The enemy's ships were thoroughly
disorganised by the sudden and appalling occurrence of the explosion.
In their alarm and confusion, many of them fired into one another, and
all might have been easily destroyed had the first success of the
explosion-vessel been properly followed up. Unfortunately, however,
on returning to the _Impérieuse_, Lord Cochrane found that there had
been gross mismanagement of the fireships, which, according to his
plans, were to have been despatched against various sections of the
French fleet while it was too confused to protect itself. One of them,
fired at the wrong time and sent in a wrong direction, nearly destroyed
the _Impérieuse_ and caused the wasting of a second explosion-vessel,
which was meant to be held in reserve. The others, if not as
mischievous in their effects, were almost as useless. "Of all the
fire-ships, upwards of twenty in number," said Lord Cochrane, "only
four reached the enemy's position, and not one did any damage. The
_Impérieuse_ lay three miles from the enemy, so that the one which
was near setting fire to her became useless at the outset; whilst several
others were kindled a mile and a half to the windward of this, or four
miles and a half from the enemy. Of the remainder, many were at once
rendered harmless from being brought to on the wrong tack. Six passed
a mile to windward of the French fleet, and one grounded on Oleron."
Though the full success of Lord Cochrane's scheme was thus prevented,
however, the work done by it was considerable. "As the fireships began
to light up the roads," he said, "we could observe the enemy's fleet in
great confusion. Without doubt, taking every fireship for an
explosion-vessel, and being deceived as to their distance, not only did
the French make no effort to divert them from their course, but some of
their ships cut their cables and were seen drifting away broadside on to
the wind and tide, whilst others made sail, as the only alternative to
escape from what they evidently considered certain destruction. At
daylight on the morning of the 12th, not a spar of the boom was
anywhere visible, and, with the exception of the Foudroyant and
Cassard, the whole of the enemy's vessels were helplessly aground.

The flag-ship, _L'Océan_, a three-decker, drawing the most water, lay
outermost on the north-west edge of the Palles Shoal, nearest the deep
water, where she was most exposed to attack; whilst all, by the fall of
the tide, were lying on their bilge, with their bottoms completely
exposed to shot, and therefore beyond the possibility of resistance."
The French fleet had not been destroyed; yet it was so paralysed by the
shock that its utter defeat seemed easy to Lord Cochrane. To the mast
of the _Impérieuse_, between six o'clock in the morning of the 12th and
one in the afternoon, he hoisted signal after signal, urging Lord
Gambier, who was with the main body of the fleet about fourteen miles
off, to make an attack. Failing in all these, and growing desperate in his
zeal, especially as every hour of delay was enabling the French to
recover themselves and rendering success less sure, he suffered his
single frigate to drift towards the enemy. "I did not venture to make
sail," wrote Lord Cochrane, in his very modest account of this daring
exploit, "lest the movement might be seen from the flag-ship, and a
signal of recall should defeat my purpose of making an attack with the
_Impérieuse_; my object being
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