So many and such imposing preparations were destined to produce but little fruit.  The two fleets, the French and the Spanish, had effected their junction off Corunna, under the orders of Count d’Orvilliers; they slowly entered the Channel on the 31st of August, near the Sorlingues (Scilly) Islands; they sighted the English fleet, with a strength of only thirty, seven vessels.  Count de Guichen, who commanded the vanguard, was already manoeuvring to cut off the enemy’s retreat; Admiral Hardy had the speed of him, and sought refuge in Plymouth Sound.  Some engagements which took place between frigates were of little importance, but glorious for both sides.  On the 6th of October, the Surveillante, commanded by Chevalier du Couedic, had a tussle with the Quebec; the broadsides were incessant, a hail of lead fell upon both ships, the majority of the officers of the Surveillante were killed or wounded.  Du Couedic had been struck twice on the head.  A fresh wound took him in the stomach; streaming with blood, he remained at his post and directed the fight.  The three masts of the Surveillante had just fallen, knocked to pieces by balls, the whole rigging of the Quebec at the same moment came down with a run.  The two ships could no longer manoeuvre, the decimated crews were preparing to board, when a thick smoke shot up all at once from the between-decks of the Quebec; the fire spread with unheard of rapidity; the Surveillante, already hooked on to her enemy’s side, was on the point of becoming, like her, a prey to the flames, but her commander, gasping as he was and scarcely alive, got her loose by a miracle of ability.  The Quebec had hardly blown up when the crew of the Surveillante set to work picking up the glorious wreck of their adversaries; a few prisoners were brought into Brest on the victorious vessel, which was so blackened by the smoke and damaged by the fight that tugs had to be sent to her assistance.  A few months afterwards Du Couedic died of his wounds, carrying to the grave the supreme honor of having been the only one to render his name illustrious in the great display of the maritime forces of France and Spain.  Count d’Orvilliers made no attempt; the inhabitants upon the English coasts ceased to tremble; sickness committed ravages amongst the crews.  After a hundred and four days’ useless cruising in the Channel, the huge fleet returned sorrowfully to Brest; Admiral d’Orvilliers had lost his son in a partial engagement; he left the navy and retired ere long to a convent.  Count de Guichen sailed for the Antilles with a portion of the French fleet, and maintained with glory the honor of his flag in a series of frequently successful affairs against Admiral Rodney.  At the beginning of the war, the latter, a great scapegrace and overwhelmed with debt, happened to be at Paris, detained by the state of his finances.  “If I were free,” said he one day in the presence of Marshal Biron,