courtesy rado javor, artstation.com
The Fire, created by Rado Javor. This 2008 digital image conveys the chaos after the allied fleet broke the boom chain. There followed the kind of free-for-all so beloved of Lord Nelson a century later. Hopsonn’s vessel slowly drifted between the Bourbon’s 68 guns and L’Espérance’s 70 guns, cannon belching iron at point-blank range, smashing bulwarks and clipping rigging. A French fireship loaded with snuff
royal museums greenwich, p.d.
Several thousand Spanish militia appeared but melted away when they saw what Ormond called “the resolution of our forces.” Pressing on, the allies captured the fort’s guns and reached the old tower. The Spaniards held there doggedly, but aggressive work by Ormond’s infantry made it untenable, and more than 350 enemy soldiers surrendered. When the Union Jack fluttered atop the structure, allied sailors cheered lustily. Meanwhile, the naval assault was underway, led by Sir Thomas Hopsonn on board HMS Torbay, an 80-gun behemoth with massive 32-pounder guns on her lower deck. The Duke of Ormond had a clear view of the ensuing action. “We had no sooner took the platform,” he later wrote, “on which were 38 cannon, but the detached ships, which were in line of battle, began to sail.” Ormond admired Hopsonn’s “undaunted courage” and was awed by the din of battle, “so that for a considerable time the firing of great and small shot on both sides was so terrible that I want words to relate it.” A fortuitous breeze allowed the Torbay to plow across the boom, but then the wind stilled, stranding the ship among her foes.
The Battle of Vigo Bay, 1702 by Ludolf Backhuysen (1630–1708). This painting is one of the most iconic of this battle, depicting the moment when the combined Dutch/English fleet attacked the Spanish treasure ships and their French escorts that were sheltering in the inner harbor. The allied troops in the foreground have just landed and are moving toward the right to attack the Spanish fortress guarding the passage. SEA HISTORY 177, WINTER 2021–22
got alongside the Torbay and ignited her sails and side. Then, to everyone’s surprise, the fireship exploded, which according to one eyewitness “scatter’d the snuff all over the Torbay and put out the greatest part of the fire.” Terrified, 53 British sailors leapt overboard and drowned. The rest labored to secure their ship, and Rooke praised their “good management” in putting out the remaining flames. Determined to join the fray, several Dutch captains launched their small boats, and their crews set to hacking at the boom with boarding hatchets. As their ships crossed into the bay, Château-Renault could see the cause was lost and ordered his remaining vessels set afire and abandoned. What had been noisy confusion became a hellscape, as burning ships drifted into one another and sank, while vessels desperately maneuvered around each other to avoid destruction. A British naval officer later wrote, “A singular spectacle was then presented to the Spanish inhabitants, who were gathered on the heights around the bay; the Spanish and French seamen and soldiers endeavouring to destroy their own ships, and the English and Dutch to save them, and both sides intent upon their work alone, and not to annoy each other, except when their mutual interruptions forced them to encounter.” Ormond considered it “a dismal aspect.” 21