Zealand

58. The Engagement

When Captain finished addressing the crew, and all had turned to watch the King's ships weigh and set sails, a call came from aloft, "Twenty men-of-war, sir. No more grow. Now clearing land."

Hands scrambled to positions where they could see, and I turned toward the point. Three ships had emerged beyond the fort, their hulls fully risen and well this side of the horizon. Much less than eight miles - closer to half that. If they turn now, they could be here before the run of one sandglass.

As more emerged past the fort, I admired their cleverness. Arrive at the break of dawn to prevent our lookouts up the ridge from sighting them until too late.

But, is it too late? I turned to see the first few of our ships aweigh and gaining way. Not much more than a mile for them to be in position, and without doubt, their crews are now below preparing the guns.

And guns? Will the enemy fire into here? Dare they chance damaging the captured Dutch merchantmen? I now saw the wisdom in Captain Berry's decision to move them again, ranging them bow-to-stern all across the roads. And all flying Dutch colours again.

I turned again to watch the enemy line grow. What if they turn now and sail close along the strand? Leave no room to windward? Force our ships alee to lose the advantage and ...

My thoughts were interrupted by loud calls from forward, "Launch longboats. Man stern anchor."

After watching hands scurry, I returned my attention to the line of enemy ships growing beyond the fort. Lines. Two columns, the closer one French. When will the first turn? If the first Dutch turns at the same time, they could form a single alternating line.

They continued straight ahead, and I wondered why. Do they not want the wind advantage? As more came into view past the fort, I realised. Of course, the guns there. Effective to a mile and more, the Commander told us when Captain and I visited.

So, they cannot take the wind advantage from us. I returned my attention to Captain Berry's ships to see many now moving swiftly away. I tried to remember how Captain had explained naval engagements. Two lines, one from each direction across the wind. How far before they turn and head toward the enemy?

Far enough to force the enemy onto the shoal? Would they know it is there? All my times in and out of here, and I did not until I saw the chart. Would they have one that shows it?

I pondered this and many other things while I watched the French line begin turning while the Dutch continued unaltered. Within a few minutes, the English line turned to head toward the French, Coronation leading. My attention alternated back and forth between the two lines as they seemed to dance for position. [1]

Though still more than a mile apart, the fort and English line's position and course force the French line downwind. Far enough to find the shoal?

Rattling astern took my attention, and turning to look, I realised Zealand had swung more than a quarter-turn to starboard. I hastened aft to watch the anchor rode pull from the hawse pipe as the breeze blew our stern seaward. The longboats had pulled it a-port. Must learn to watch everything - not only one at a time. How does Captain do this?

I startled at a call from aloft, "More sails grow, sir."

"Also from the ridge?"

"Aye, sir. Two merchantmen."

"Thank you. Report changes."

"Aye, sir. Three now." After a short pause, he added. "A fourth close behind it."

"All merchantmen?"

"Aye, sir."

"Report only when they stop emerging."

"Aye, sir. Report when all risen."

While listening, I thought: Armed merchantmen like ours to add to their strength. I returned to the starboard rail to watch the lines. Closer, now. But the Dutch have not yet joined. Why not?

Do they await what unfolds, ready to assist any weakness in the French line? Or do they watch for how to take advantage of any vulnerability in ours? Either. Whichever is needed.

When the van [2] of each line was little more than three ship lengths apart, a call came from aloft, "Twelve merchantmen, sir. No more grow."

"Thank you."

"Decks are crowded, sir. Likely soldiers to land."

"Thank you, Mid. Our thought, as well."

Mid? A midshipman aloft as lookout? Makes sense - more aware than an ordinary seaman. And soldiers to land also makes sense. I turned to watch the first of them appear beyond the fort, and as the sixth hove into view, a loud clap sounded from seaward.

I snapped my head to see huge billows of white smoke rising from our van. Beyond it, the French line appeared less ordered than before. White smoke arose from our next two ships, soon followed by loud claps.

No return from the French. Have they found the shoal? Appears so. Those astern their van now turn from the line.

More guns sounded, though still none from the French. Three of our ships closed upon the largest of theirs and began firing. Possibly the ship of the captain of their captains - their admirable. After several minutes and many hits, it drifted away downwind.

By the time the rear of our line fired on theirs, our van had worn around and returned to present its port guns to the now scattering French. Loud huzzahs and whistles arose from our crew and from the other ships at anchor. Then, Captain's voice sounded above them, "Hoy! Hoy! Hear here, now."

When it had quieted a bit, and he had their attention, he continued, "The first round is ours and well worthy of celebration. But we cannot relax our readiness; the battle is not yet won." He pointed seaward. "The Dutch now approach, and Captain Berry and his line are not well positioned."

Notes:

[1] Manoeuvre didn't enter the language until 1759, thus my awkward and somewhat poetic phrasing.
[2] Van is shortened from vanguard, and it was first used in 1607, meaning the forefront of an action or movement.
[3] To wear a ship is to turn its stern through the wind, rather than tacking the bows across it. This loses less way.
[4] This naval engagement unfolded as shown in the historical records and accounts, and it is the only battle in this war where all three navies were involved. I found a plausible way to explain the "French line disintegrating into confusion" as it met the English. This helps soften the excoriation of French Admiral de La Barre for the defeat.