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MILITARY HISTORY, 1485-1603.
[1512.
slain and dead. And with Sir Thomas Knyvett and Sir John Carew, seven hundred men drowned and burnt; and that night all the Englishmen lay in Bartram" (Bertheaume) "Bay, for the French fleet was dispersed as you have heard."
Such was the English account. As might be expected, the French accounts bore a somewhat different complexion; and it is perhaps but fair to append Monsieur Guérin's summary of them, although it must be premised that he attributes the battle to a wrong year,[1] that in some other particulars, his story is demonstrably incorrect, and that the entire description is obviously rather picturesque than historical in its mode of expression.
"The English fleet," he says, "appeared on August 10th off Saint Mahé or Saint Mathieu, at the extremity of the peninsula of Brittany. The French fleet, which was chiefly composed of Norman and Breton vessels, was inferior in number by one-half, and, moreover, believing the enemy to be well occupied in Picardy, was taken unawares. The presence of mind of the leaders compensated for the awkwardness of the moment; their courage and that of their men took the place of numbers. The French fleet, which Prégent de Bidoux had hurried to join with his galleys,[2] was careful to retain the advantage of the wind, and it paid its attention solely to boarding, smashing or sinking about half the enemy's vessels. In the midst of this general French attack, there was to be noted above all others a large and beautiful carrack, decorated superbly, and as daintily as a queen. She, of herself, had already sunk almost as many hostile vessels as all the rest of the fleet: and now she found herself surrounded by twelve of the principal English ships, which had combined all their efforts against her. She was the Marie la Cordelière, which Anne of Brittany, Queen of France, had caused to be built at great cost at Morlaix, and the command of which she had entrusted to the gallant Portzmoguer, the worthiest Breton captain of his day. The Cordelière, alone among so many foes, struggled with a courage which was almost miraculous. Of the twelve vessels surrounding her, she put several out of action and drove off some more. A large English ship, commanded by Sir Charles Brandon, had been completely dismasted by the gun-fire of the Cordelière, whose triumph was on the point of being assured, when, from the top of a hostile vessel, there was flung into her a mass of fireworks, the flame from which instantly took hold of her. Some of the soldiers and seamen were able to save themselves in boats, but Captain Portzmoguer, after having given every one the option of relinquishing a fight which now seemed hopeless, declined, in spite of the entreaties of his people, to avail himself of the chance, open to him also, of saving his life. His life was entirely bound up with the existence of the vessel which had been so specially entrusted to him by the queen: the one was to end with the other. Suddenly the Cordelière sighted the Regent, of 1000 tons, in which Thomas Knyvett, squire to Henry VIII., fulfilled the functions of vice-admiral of England; and, like a floating volcano, bore down, a huge incendiary torch, upon her, pitilessly grappled her, and wound her in her own flaming robe. The powder magazine of the Regent blew up, and with it the hostile ship, her Commander, and thousands of burnt and mangled limbs went into the air; while the Cordelière, satisfied, and still proud amid the disaster, blew up also, and, a whirl of fire and smoke, vanished beneath the waves, like her immortal Captain Portzmoguer,
