Indefatigable & Amazon v Droits de l’Homme – 13 January 1797
Early in the new year of 1797, the famous Captain Sir Edward Pellew led two frigates in an epic attack on a larger French ship of the line. In appalling weather, the crews of all three vessels displayed seamanship and bravery of the highest order – the engagement ended with the loss of two of the ships and hundreds of lives.
The encounter was set in train at 12.30 p.m. on 13 January, some one hundred and fifty miles to the south-west of Ushant. Whilst their crews were tucking into their midday meal, the twenty-four-pounder frigate Indefatigable 44, Captain Pellew, and the eighteen-pounder frigate Amazon 36, Captain Robert Carthew Reynolds, discovered a large vessel through the fog to their north-west. With a strong wind blowing in from the west and the stranger steering to the south, Pellew gave the order for both ships to chase, and the British were soon able to confirm the other ship as an enemy.
The unknown vessel would prove to be a French ship-of-the-line, Droits de l’Homme 74, commanded by the experienced Commodore Jean Raimond Baptiste Lacrosse. Aboard were General Jean-Joseph Humbert and 549 soldiers in addition to her crew of 639 men and about 50 British prisoners whom she had taken out of a captured letter-of-marque. Part of the force covering the aborted French invasion of Ireland, she had spent four days at anchor in Bantry Bay and another eight days off Loup Head before departing that coast on 7 January. Now she was making a landfall at Belle-Isle, en route to her home port of Brest.
Designed to sit low in the water, the Droits de l’Homme had been launched in the summer of 1794 at Lorient and had seen action at the Battle of Groix a year later. Her armament was twenty-eight French 36-pounder cannons on her lower gun deck, thirty French 18 pounder cannons on her upper gun deck and sixteen French 8-pounder cannons on her quarterdeck and forecastle, giving her a broadside weight of metal equivalent to 904 English pounds. However, in the forthcoming engagement she was to be at a significant disadvantage by being unable to utilise her lower deck battery. Her captain, Lacrosse, was an experienced seaman from the old French Navy, who (along with many others of the officer class) had spent time in prison for perceived disloyalty to the Revolution.
Launched as a third rate 64 in 1784, the Indefatigable had been refitted as a 44 -gun frigate ten years later, and in January 1795 her command had been given to one of the finest officers in the British Navy, Sir Edward Pellew. She carried a powerful armament of twenty-six 24-pounder cannons on her gun deck, in addition to two 12-pounder cannons and eighteen 42-pounder carronades, resulting in a broadside weight of metal totalling 702 pounds. Her nominal complement was 330 men. The Amazon had been launched in July 1795 and commissioned by Captain Reynolds, an experienced officer in his mid-forties who had been frustratingly on the beach for the previous two years. Her armament consisted of twenty-six 18-pounder cannons on her gundeck, ten 9-pounder cannons on her quarterdeck and forecastle, together with eight 32-pounder carronades, giving her a broadside weight of metal of 407 pounds, manned by a nominal crew of 264.
With a winter storm brewing up from the west and the sea becoming increasingly unsettled, the over-burdened Droits de l’Homme tried to maintain her course, but by 3.00 p.m. the Indefatigable had closed on her, with the Amazon three miles away. Shortly after 4.15 p.m. the French ship lost both her fore and main topmasts to violent gusts. This misfortune made her less stable, and in conjunction with her low-freeboard design and the sheer weight of people and military stores aboard, meant that opening her lower gundeck ports in the heaving seas would be a treacherous operation. Sure enough, when an attempt was made, the water rushed in making it necessary to shut the ports again, leaving the ship unable to use more than half of her armament.
Realising the effect that the loss of her topsails would have on the French ship’s mobility, and noting that her lower gun ports remained closed, Pellew reduced sail and at 5.30 p.m. moved in. Hauling up, the Indefatigable unleashed a broadside into the enemy’s starboard quarter, to which the French responded as best they could with their upper deck battery and a fusillade of musketry which was indicative of the number of troops she had aboard. As darkness continued to envelop the scene, Pellew attempted to surge ahead of the Frenchman and rake her with his carronades, but Lacrosse skilfully thwarted this move. The French commander then tried a ramming manoeuvre, but it just missed, and his bowsprit passed over the top of the smaller vessel’s quarterdeck, nearly hitting the spanker boom . At this point the Indefatigable unavoidably shot ahead, but although the French ship fired a raking broadside from her upper deck guns, it did little damage.
Arriving on the scene in the black of night at 6.45 p.m., the Amazon was able to pour her own broadside into the Droits de l’Homme’s quarter, but further skilled French evasion and the frigate’s press of sail meant that she too found herself passing ahead of the enemy. Displaying great seamanship, Lacrosse then managed to get to leeward of the British frigate and fire a full broadside, supplemented by volleys of musketry. With the Indefatigable and Amazon temporarily backing off at 7.30. the French made what repairs they could whilst the ship continued on her east south-easterly course. By now the confusion of battle, darkness and storm had combined to make Lacrosse unsure of his exact location.
By 8.30 Pellew and Reynolds had effected repairs, and taking advantage of their superiority in firepower they began attacking again. This time they posted their frigates on either of the ship of the line’s bows, frequently at pistol shot, in an attempt to further damage the enemy . In turn, the Droits de l’Homme yawed from side to side, endeavouring to bring her own guns to bear, and she was able to fight both sides of the ship at the same time thanks to the number of men aboard. Meanwhile, Humbert’s soldiers continued pouring musketry into the British frigates, adding to the horrendous conditions where men were up to their waists in water as they struggled to man the guns. Such was the violence of the storm that below decks the Indefatigable’s surgeon was attempting to perform surgery in shin-deep water, lashed to the side of the ship with his patient.
For the next two hours the British had the best of the combat, and at 10.30 Lacrosse was forced to cut away his shot-damaged mizzen mast. The frigates now altered position to pound the Droits de l’Homme’s more vulnerable stern-quarters and the engagement raged on for a further six hours. Already the French 74 had lost dozens of men killed, but a mix of raw sailors and soldiers continued to defend the ship valiantly. When they ran out of shot, the French turned to using explosive shells in an attempt to keep the frigates at bay. At 2.30 in the morning of 14 January Captain Lacrosse was hit in the knee by a ball which knocked him to the deck, and he was taken below to the surgeons. The command now devolved upon Capitaine de Frégate Louis Gilles Prévost Lacroix, the second in command.
Aboard the Indefatigable several cannons had repeatedly broken free from their breaching ropes, making the decks dangerous until they were restrained. Sailors were having to cut up cordage to serve as wadding, since the supply for the guns had all been used up. The Amazon had lost her mizzenmast, and the continuing need to repair the rigging had left her with no spare cordage. For all three ships however, an even greater danger than battle was looming.
At 4.30 a.m., with Pellew’s frigate close under the Frenchman’s starboard bow and the Amazon holding a position on the opposite bow, the storm clouds temporarily parted. Up on the Indefatigable’s forecastle, Lieutenant George Bell expected the moon to reveal the open sea, but to his horror he saw land directly ahead – by the time his warning reached the quarterdeck, breakers could be seen. Pellew immediately ordered warning rockets to be fired to alert the Amazon and commanded that the ship be put about. Under these conditions (and even without the damage she had suffered aloft) this task would have proved demanding, but Pellew’s highly trained crew executed the manoeuvre magnificently. The Indefatigable settled on a new course southward to what was thought to be the open sea.
Meanwhile, the partially disabled Amazon had turned away to the north, but she could not complete the manoeuvre, and shortly before five o’clock she drove ashore about two miles north of the village of Plouzenec in Audierne Bay. As soon as the frigate struck ground the crew cut away the masts. The men then began constructing rafts out of the wreckage of their ship, and by nine o’clock in the morning they had struggled ashore to be made prisoners of war by a troop of soldiers. Much to the credit of Captain Reynolds and his officers, the only loss of life was that of six men who in the words of the first lieutenant ‘cowardly deserted us when the ship first struck’ and drowned when the boat they had taken was overturned.
The Droits de l’Homme was not so fortunate. With Captain Lacrosse having hobbled back on deck, she tried to come about, but in so doing lost her foremast and bowsprit. The crew now made a desperate attempt to anchor, but they found that the cables of the two remaining anchors (the rest had been lost in Bantry Bay) had been severed in the action. Out of control, the massive ship piled ashore off Plouzenec, at first striking a sandbank, and then losing her mainmast before settling on another sandbank on her beam ends. As she lay exposed to a sea that swept the unwary off her deck, some of the sailors tried to stabilise her by throwing the cannons overboard. The British prisoners were allowed up from the cable tier onto the deck to give them a chance to save themselves.
Off the coast, Captain Pellew and the Indefatigable’s Breton pilot had assumed that the land they had first spotted was the island of Ushant. Believing they were standing out to sea, an hour later they were astonished to find breakers in the darkness on their lee bow. The order was given to wear to the north-west, and an hour later as dawn broke at 6.30, land was seen directly ahead. Putting about, the Indefatigable just managed to turn away to the south in twenty fathoms of water to reach safety once more. At this point, the Droits de l’Homme was observed stranded on the beach, with the sea breaking over her. Aboard the Indefatigable there was much sympathy for the brave crew of the French vessel, as they passed within a mile of the wreck. However, with the storm winds still blowing on shore and with four feet of water in the hold, the damaged British ship could offer no assistance. By now the officers had identified their surroundings as Audierne Bay, and they realised that if they did not weather the Penmark Rocks to the south they would share the same fate as their erstwhile enemy. Fortunately, with every bit of canvas set, and making a course to the south-east, they were able to weather the hazard by half a mile, drawing the admiration of watchers ashore as they reached the safety of the open sea.
With the coming of daylight on the 14th people could be seen congregating on the shore opposite the wreck of the Droits de l’Homme; however, with the storm blowing on land and creating a raging surf they were unable to provide any assistance. At low water, boats were lowered from the stranded ship, yet they were instantly carried away by the sea to be smashed to pieces on the rocks littering the beach. The shipwrecked sailors constructed a raft, loaded it with men, and tried to use a rope to control its drift ashore, but some of the occupants were washed off the raft and the others cut themselves loose in order to gain the beach. When a sailmaker attempted to swim ashore with a line, the poor man had to be hauled back on board, more dead than alive from his exertions. With the storm refusing to abate it became clear that no more could be done that day.
On the 15th conditions continued to deteriorate aboard the wreck. By now the hold had flooded, and there was no food or drink. Nine men (including several Britons) did manage to get ashore in a boat at low water and their success emboldened others to try reaching the beach on rafts, only for the occupants to be washed away. On the 16th the last surviving boat was launched over the side, but with discipline breaking down it was swamped by sixty to eighty desperate men, the majority of whom drowned. Only on the 18th when conditions improved and the wind turned easterly were the last survivors, including Captain Lacrosse and General Humbert, brought off by the brig Arrogante and cutter Aiguille.
A British prisoner from the Droits de l’Homme estimated the casualties from among her complement of soldiers, sailors and prisoners at a thousand men. French sources later confirmed that the total was 103 men killed and 157 wounded in the action, and another 217 people lost in the shipwreck and from exposure and lack of food. The Amazon for her part had lost three men killed and twenty wounded in the battle in addition to the six men who had drowned during the shipwreck. Pellew’s impeccably handled Indefatigable had suffered only nineteen men wounded, including the first lieutenant, John Thompson.
Returning to Falmouth three days after the engagement (and still unaware of the Amazon’s fate), Pellew’s report to the Admiralty, dated 17 January, described the action and praised the French defence. It was published in the newspapers four days later, but not until 23 January did news reach Falmouth that a British frigate had gone ashore near the Droits de l’Homme and that all of her crew had been saved. The Indefatigable herself took confirmation of the Amazon’s loss to Portsmouth the next day.
Back in France the British prisoners who had survived the wreck of the Droits de l’Homme were sent home on 7 March at the orders of the Minister of the Navy, out of a respect for their courage and humanity during the wreck. Following his own shipwreck, Captain Lacrosse displayed French gallantry when wrote to Pellew expressing admiration for his exploits and looking forward to the day when they could discuss the battle in peaceful harmony.
After being exchanged in September, Captain Reynolds returned to Falmouth in a cartel with his third lieutenant, sailing master and purser. The court martial into the loss of the Amazon sat on the 25th of that month aboard the Cambridge 80 at Plymouth. Four days later the members of the court honourably acquitted her officers. At his own court-martial in France, Captain Lacrosse was also acquitted for his ship’s loss, and his subordinate, M. Lacroix, was immediately promoted captain. In recognition of their parts in the engagement the first lieutenants of the Indefatigable, John Thompson, and of the Amazon, Bendall Littlehales, would in due course be promoted to the rank of commander. Only 14 of their shipmates from the two frigates would live to claim their Naval General Service Medal with the clasp ’13 Jany. 1797′ fifty years later.