As the wind was now fair for England, he formed his fleet round the prizes, and keeping up a running fire, carried the whole of the captured ships into Plymouth in the face of the enemy, and despite their utmost endeavours to prevent him.
Kempenfelt then returned to Spithead with his squadron, of which he retained command till the month of March next year, when he struck his flag in the “Victory,” and hoisted it on board the Royal George. In this ship he was unhappily drowned on the 29th August, on her capsizing at Spithead, when over 900 persons perished in a few minutes. The “Victory” was a witness of the melancholy catastrophe, and her boats saved many of the survivors.
Lord Howe next hoisted his flag in the “Victory” on assuming command of the Channel Fleet, and cruised in the course of the summer of 1782, but without any meetings with the enemy or incidents worth recording.
At this time, the attention of England, and indeed her enemies, was almost entirely fixed on the defence of Gibraltar by General Elliot, and the probable fate of that fortress, which though it had been besieged by both sea and land for more than three years, had never been so hardly pressed as now. Admiral Darby with a powerful fleet had relieved the garrison from the greatest possible distress the year before, but the supplies he then landed were now nearly exhausted, the garrison were again commencing to feel the pangs of hunger, and it was well known that the Spaniards had been for months making preparations for an attack of a new kind, and on a grand scale, which they trusted would compel the proud stronghold to lower its colours. The new feature in the attack was the construction of ten large floating batteries, so covered and protected as to be considered practically invulnerable; these were armed with 154 pieces of the heaviest ordnance, and backed up as they were by 48 French and Spanish sail of the line, and 40,000 troops, the expected assault was enough to make England tremble for the result. It was accordingly resolved to make a great effort to relieve Gibraltar, and in such a manner that it should be not only a temporary but a permanent relief and to this end a fleet of 36 sail of the line was got together, which was to convoy a large number of merchantmen, laden with every description of supplies, and carrying troops to reinforce the garrison.
This fleet sailed on September 11th, with Lord Howe in the “Victory,” as Commander-in-Chief, and as Juniors, Vice-Admirals Barrington and Millbank; and Rear-Admirals Alexander Hood and Hughes.
Before this succour could arrive, the grand attack on Gibraltar had taken place. On September 9th the enemy’s batteries, after a temporary silence while preparing for the struggle, re-opened, and continued a rain of shot and shell, with scarcely any intermission, to the 13th, when the fleet and floating batteries being brought into their assigned positions, joined in the bombardment.
It is not our province to relate the details of that memorable day—enough to state that the arrangements which General Elliot’s energy had made were equal to the occasion; the invulnerable floating batteries were set on fire, the fleet repulsed, the land attack took no effect, and the baffled enemy, with enormous losses, withdrew from active attack, to wait the results of the famine with which they well knew the besieged were threatened, and which they hoped would effect the capitulation their arms had failed to force.
But Howe was approaching, not rapidly, for foul winds detained him, but surely, and the combined fleets lying off Algeciras were on the qui vive to prevent his landing any supplies, when on October 10th, a terrific gale assailed them, which dismasted one, and drove five of their number from their anchors; two of these got away into the Mediterranean, but the other three went on shore in the bay, one of them under our forts, where the crew were made prisoners.
The very next day, while the enemy was thus thrown into disorder, the British fleet made its appearance in the Straits; and in the evening, four of the transports succeeded in getting safe under the guns of Gibraltar, without any attempt on the part of the combined fleets to hinder them, much to the astonishment of Howe, who on learning some days before of the failure of the grand attack, had also learnt the avowed intention of the enemy to give him battle, and had called all the Admirals on board the “Victory,” and made known to them his determination to force his way through at all hazards. The rest of the convoy from light winds and bad management were swept past the Rock by the current, and lost this favourable opportunity of accomplishing their errand, a most fatal mischance, as ships once driven to the eastward of Gibraltar, are sometimes weeks before they can gain their anchorage on the western side. The men-of-war followed, and spent next day in endeavouring to work up with the transport against the strong easterly current, in hopes of getting them in, before the enemy, whose misfortunes they had now heard of were enabled to interfere; but on the morning of the 13th the combined fleets, having completed their refitting, weighed, and sailed out of the bay, apparently intending to engage the English ships, which were then but a few miles to the eastward of Europa point, and in full sight of the garrison. Although the gale of the 10th had reduced the enemy’s force by six, yet they still far out-numbered Howe’s, as they mustered 80 sail of men-of-war, forty-four of which were of the line, while Howe had but thirty-six with which to protect his charge; nevertheless, he waited the advance with impatience and confidence, having sent the merchant ships to the Zaffarin Islands, as a rendezvous, until they should hear of the result of the battle. But the enemy suddenly altered his course and running past the British ships, disappeared in the dusk of evening. Next day, neither of the fleets were to be seen from the Rock, but some of the transports that had slipped back, arrived, filling the garrison with joy. Thus several days passed, when on the 18th, the remainder of the convoy, who had heard of no engagement and ventured to leave their retreat at Zaffarin, arrived in safety, completing the primary object of their mission. Next morning both fleets were again in sight from Gibraltar, with an easterly wind, the British nearest. Howe had been following the enemy, who was searching in vain for the missing convoy; but now, hearing that his charge were all safely at anchor, and not wishing to fight in the narrow space of the Straits, the British Admiral, after landing a further supply of powder, collected from his ships as he passed, under sail for the open sea, and having gained it, awaited a second time the enemy’s attack.
The combined fleet, which had been reinforced by the junction of the two ships that had been driven from Algeciras were thus to windward, and had the entire option of time and distance in their hands; they chose to advance very leisurely, and to keep at a great distance, firing apparently at the spars of the British ships, and never giving them the opportunity of getting into close action. After continuing this distant cannonade for some hours, the enemy again hauled off, having inflicted a loss of 68 killed, and 280 wounded on the English. The “Victory” herself did not lose a man, or fire a single shot, and the other ships only returned the fire very occasionally. Howe was much blamed for not making greater exertions to engage the enemy, but it is easier to talk of getting a fleet to windward than to do it, and he does not seem to have had it in his power to do more than he did. The morning after this skirmish, the enemy being nowhere to be seen, Howe, according to orders, broke up his fleet in detachments to reinforce various stations, and returned home himself in the “Victory” to Portsmouth, which he reached on November 10th. Preliminaries of peace were already at this time being discussed, and were signed on 20th January following, and “Victory” was paid off at Portsmouth on February 27th, after a commission of nearly five years, during which she had established the character of being the best sailing three-decker ever launched. This character she ever after maintained, and it led to her being almost invariably chosen as flagship, by every officer who had the chance of so doing.
On preparations being made in June 1790, in expectation of war with Spain, the “Victory” was again commissioned. Lord Howe at first had his flag in her, but when the Queen Charlotte was ready, he went to that ship, and Lord Hood succeeded him in the “Victory.” She remained at the North ready for service throughout that year, and part of the next, when Hood was appointed to command the Northern Fleet, fitting out in case our friendly relations with Russia, then trembling in the balance, could not be maintained; but the difficulty passed away, and in the summer of 1791 she was paid off and returned into ordinary.
But in February, 1793, when the French Republic had sealed its former acts of lawlessness by the execution of the King, Louis XVI, and had further cut itself off from civilization by declaring war against the world, or against such parts of the world as it was not already fighting with, that war which is known in our annals as the “War with the Republic,” commenced in earnest.
England’s fleets were at once brought forward, and the “Victory” was again manned as the flagship of Lord Hood, who was now appointed Commander-in-Chief in the Mediterranean. He hoisted his flag at Portsmouth on the evening of the 6th of May, and his Lordship sailed on the 22nd of the same month, accompanied by 6 two-deckers and 5 frigates, which composed the last detachment of the fleet he was to command; 14 other line-of-battle ships and some frigates having preceded him, under Vice-Admirals Hotham and Cosby, and Rear-Admirals Goodall and Gell.
On the 24th a junction was effected with Admiral Hotham’s divisions, and after waiting off Scilly a fortnight for the passing of a convoy, Hood bore away for Gibraltar with 11 sail of the line.
The first object of importance in the Mediterranean was the reduction of Toulon if possible. In that port, the great Southern French Arsenal, were known to be upwards of 30 sail of the line, 17 of them ready for sea, under the orders of Admiral Trogoff, but as that officer was a staunch monarchist, he was not expected to do anything that would further the cause of republicanism, and the existence of a strong royalist party in the south of France, favoured the supposition that instead of resisting the British, the Toulonese would receive them with open arms, as their only chance of protection from that republic they so thoroughly hated and feared.
Such being the posture of affairs, Hood hurried out to his station, watering his ships at Cadiz, (for Spain was now our ally against the common enemy) and Gibraltar. From the latter place the fleet sailed, on June 27th, and on the 7th July fell in with a Spanish fleet of 24 sail whose Admiral sent a message to Lord Hood, to say that he had 1900 men sick and was going into Carthagena, and, said the Captain of the frigate “no wonder, for we have been 60 days at sea.” This speech did not raise their new allies in the estimation of the British, who laughed at such a notion, and left the Spaniards to follow to Toulon, which was sighted on the 19th July, and a flag of truce was sent in to propose an exchange of prisoners. To this the enemy would not accede, but they were now acquainted with the presence of Lord Hood’s fleet off the port, and those causes of dissension we have mentioned began to operate, with the most important final results.
Lord Hood cruised for a fortnight in sight of Toulon, then sailed for Nice to show himself there, and on his return on 20th August, heard that proposals were being made in Toulon to put themselves under his protection. On the 23rd, Commissioners came on board the “Victory” from Marseilles with full powers to treat for peace, offering a conditional surrender of Toulon and all the shipping, declaring a monarchical government the leading object of their negotiation, and praying for speedy help against the armies of the convention that were at that moment approaching.
Our space will not permit a full account of the proceedings at this time, and we must satisfy ourselves by stating that Toulon was taken possession of on the 27th August, without a blow, despite the threatened opposition of Admiral St. Julien, the second in command, who was thorough republican; the Spanish fleet hove in sight the same day, and Toulon was soon occupied by the combined forces, and vigorous steps taken to keep possession of our “extraordinary acquisition,” as Nelson in one of his letters calls it. But the enemy were at hand, mustering stronger and stronger every day, and by November, General Dugommier was besieging the town with 40,000 men, while the defenders, who only mustered 16,000, were of different nationalities and had to man a line 15 miles in length. On December 16th a position on the heights commanding Toulon was carried by the besiegers, and a council of war, hastily summoned, determined to evacuate the town, carry off as many ships as possible, and burn the rest. The evacuation was carried out successfully, the troops and seamen were all embarked, and 15,000 of the inhabitants took refuge from the rage of their countrymen on board the fleets. But the rest of the programme was not so completely performed; the Spaniards had charged themselves with the destruction of the ships in the inner harbour, but either by carelessness or treachery, they very imperfectly performed their task. They did not fire the ships of war but did set alight to the powder vessels which it was arranged should be scuttled; these blew up, nearly destroying Captain Sidney Smith, who was burning the ships in the outer mole; he gallantly attempted to repair the omission, but was repulsed by the fire of the republicans who were already in the town, and had to retire, leaving the work but half done. Of 58 ships in the port when Lord Hood arrived, 14 were destroyed, 19 carried off, and 25 left to the French.
In all these operations the men of the “Victory,” if not the ship herself, bore an active part, as they were landed, and helped to man the batteries with the other ship’s companies, and suffered great losses in the continual bombardment to which they were exposed. On one occasion, indeed, the ship was like to have become the heroine of an adventure which might have ended her days, for, on October 23rd, in one of the disputes, which, as might be expected, were not unfrequent between our quondam enemies the Spaniards and ourselves, Don Juan de Langara, the Spanish Admiral, placed three of his three-deckers round the “Victory,” as she lay in the outer road of Toulon, as a “gentle moral persuasion” on behalf of his demands. As the English fleet at that time was reduced by the absence of detachments to 10 sails, and their crews were weakened by the landing parties, the Spanish Admiral with his 17 sail, could have destroyed our ships, had he dared to carry matters so far; but Lord Hood was firm, and the Spanish ships resumed their former positions without any further demonstrations.
The British fleet now withdrew to Hyères, where they lay and revictualled; and on the 24th of January, 1794, thinking that something might yet be done to assist the royalist faction in Corsica, Lord Hood proceeded with a fleet of 60 sail, including transports, for the Bay of Fiorenzo. While on the passage, a furious gale arose which dispersed them, and the “Victory,” amongst others, was nearly disabled, losing her mainyard and many of her sails, and was at one time in danger of being lost. The scattered fleet put into Porto Ferrajo on the 29th. Detachments of ships were sent from here, with the troops, to attack San Fiorenzo, the principal port of Corsica; and on the 19th February, after standing a bombardment of eleven days, this town capitulated. By this time the “Victory” herself had arrived.
Lord Hood then tried to persuade General Dundas, who commanded the troops, of the practicability of taking Bastia, the capital of the island; but that officer differed, and not only refused to take any part in the attempt, but would not even lend a mortar or gun, or any stores for the service, so that Hood had actually to send to Naples for these most necessary articles for a siege; for, probably believing that the energy of Nelson, then Captain of the Agamemnon, who had borne a most prominent part in these previous undertakings, was sufficient to carry anything through with success, the Admiral determined to attempt it alone with his sailors, and 1000 men of different regiments who were embarked in the ship as marines. He cruised in the “Victory” for some days, before Bastia, and then returned to San Fiorenzo, leaving everything to the direction of Nelson, who worked as he always did, untiringly. On April 4th Hood again went round and assisted with his men, etc., in raising the shore batteries; and on the 11th, when all was ready, a boat from the “Victory” went in to demand the capitulation of the town. This was refused with scorn, by the brave Frenchman, St. Michel, who replied, that he “had red-hot shot for our ships, and bayonets for our men;” the “Victory,” on receiving this reply, hoisted a red flag, the preconcerted signal, and immediately the batteries opened. The town replied, and for some weeks the siege went on with varying success.