A chart of Rosas Bay by Joseph Roux, 1764, showing the citadel beside the town of Rosas (Rose) and Fort Trinidad on the nearby headland.
The Imperieuse arrived in the Bay of Rosas on Sunday 20 November 1808.3 The Meteor was still lying at anchor but Captain West’s Excellent had been replaced by the Fame, 74 guns, commanded by Captain Bennett. Cochrane anchored the Imperieuse nearby and went aboard the Fame. He found Bennett much discouraged by the current situation. He thought that the citadel would soon fall to the invaders, and he had withdrawn his marines from Fort Trinidad following the breach made in its walls. Cochrane was the junior officer but believed that his instructions from Collingwood gave him a free hand. He decided to investigate the situation for himself and the next morning he headed the Imperieuse towards the town. The wind was so light and variable that they made little progress and at 4.30 p.m. the boats had to be hoisted out and for an hour they towed the ship slowly towards the shore before coming to anchor in sixteen fathoms. The crack and boom of the enemy artillery could be heard across the water and from the town and the citadel grey clouds of gun smoke rose into the still air.
The morning of 22 November was another day of light winds. Cochrane went ashore and inspected the citadel which was under sporadic bombardment from enemy shells. He returned to the Imperieuse and despatched parties of seamen and marines to help the Spaniards repair the defences of the citadel, work the guns and fire on the enemy who were digging entrenchments and setting up gun batteries. Cochrane’s arrival in the bay and his positive attitude encouraged O’Daly and Captain Bennett to launch an attack on the gun battery on Puig-Rom. During the evening of 22 November the Imperieuse moved to a position close inshore and anchored opposite the battery. That night the frigate’s boats and those of the Fame ferried seven hundred of O’Daly’s men and thirty marines across to Fort Trinidad. At 2.00 a.m. Cochrane ordered his crew to beat to quarters. The gig, the yawl and the jolly boat were sent westwards towards the town to distract the attention of the enemy from the men advancing on the gun battery, and at 3.00 a.m. the guns of the Imperieuse opened fire. The French commander was quick to realise what was happening and promptly sent a force to assist the gun battery. His professional troops had no difficulty in foiling the attack and when the gun battery turned its guns on the Imperieuse Cochrane had no option but to get his men to tow the frigate out of range. In the early light of dawn, on a flat calm sea, the boats returned to the shore beneath Fort Trinidad. The Spaniards were taken off the beach and rowed across to the citadel. The marines returned to the ships.
Undaunted by this setback Cochrane went ashore to see whether Fort Trinidad was capable of holding out against a sustained attack from the enemy. He was encouraged by what he found. The thickness of the walls and the construction of the interior of the fort persuaded him that it would be difficult for the enemy to take the place if it was resolutely defended. If they did gain access the defenders would be able to make a rapid retreat down the cliffs to the beach where the boats would be waiting to take them off. The major problem was the breach which had been made by the guns on the heights above but it was typical of Cochrane that he should find a way of turning this to his advantage. The fort was made up of three structures joined together but on different levels: a lower fort some fifty feet high overlooking the sea; a middle fort twenty or thirty feet higher, and a tower 110 feet high which faced the heights of Puig-Rom. The breach which had been made in the tower was some sixty feet from the ground. In his autobiography Cochrane used an interesting analogy to describe the scene:
A pretty correct idea of our relative positions may be formed if the unnautical reader will imagine our small force to be placed in the nave of Westminster Abbey, with the enemy attacking the great western tower from the summit of a cliff 100 feet higher than the tower, so that the breach in course of formation nearly corresponded to the great west window of the abbey. It will hence be clear that, in the face of a determined opposition, it would be no easy matter to scale the external wall of the tower up to the great west window, and more difficult still to overcome the impediments presently to be mentioned, so as to get down into the body of the church.4
The impediments which Cochrane devised were ingenious. The logbook of the Imperieuse records that on 24 November the boats were sent to Fort Trinidad and ‘two thirds of the ships company employed at the Fort filling up the breach made and on sundry other duties necessary for the defence of the same’.5 The ship’s carpenter, Mr Lodowick, supervised the construction of a wooden ramp or slide which was positioned on the inside of the breach in the walls and was covered with grease from the ship’s galley. The enemy would have to use scaling ladders to climb up to the breach and when they got there they would be faced by a man trap: the pressure of men climbing up behind would cause those at the front to slide down the ramp and fall fifty feet to the floor below. Marryat described some of the other hazards: ‘We happened to have on board the frigate a large quantity of fish hooks: these we planted not only on the greasy boards, but in every part where the intruders were likely to place their hands or feet. The breach itself was mined, and loaded with shells and hand-grenades; masked guns, charged up to the muzzle with musket balls enfiladed the spot in every direction.’6
The crew of the Imperieuse worked night and day to make the fort impregnable. They were assisted by the Spaniards who had been dissuaded from abandoning the fort. Captain Bennett reported that Lord Cochrane ‘by his example has inspired confidence in the Spaniards, but I fear that it will not last, and that the fort ought to be blown up. I am still of that opinion.’7 Cochrane was prepared for this eventuality and got the men to lay explosive charges at key points in the fort with short fuses which could be lit if, and when, they had to abandon the place. He also had them filling sandbags and clearing away the rubbish and broken gun carriages which littered the interior of the fort. Marryat was much involved in these labours but did not enjoy the working conditions. They had to sleep on dirty straw infested with fleas, and the food was bad and sometimes non-existent. Worst of all was the threat from the hills above them. The gun battery on Puig-Rom kept up a sporadic fire on the fort from dawn to dusk, the shots thudding against the walls and bringing down piles of stone and rubble inside the fort. In addition to the gun battery a corps of Swiss sharpshooters had taken up a position on another hill nearby and anyone who showed his head above the parapet became the target for a deadly hail of musket shot.
On their second day in the fort Cochrane himself became a victim of this gunfire: ‘Being anxious, during an ominous pause, to see what the enemy were about, I incautiously looked round an angle of the tower towards the battery overhead, and was struck by a stone splinter in the face; the splinter flattening my nose and then penetrating my mouth. By the skill of our excellent doctor, Mr Guthrie, my nose was after a time rendered serviceable.’8 For six days they lay low in the fort. On the evening of 26 November they heard the sound of heavy and sustained gunfire from the direction of Rosas. By the morning the enemy had driven out the defenders and gained possession of the town. Nearly four hundred Spaniards had lost their lives or been captured during the assault. It was inevitable that a major attack would soon be made on Fort Trinidad.
In the early dawn of 30 November the lookouts in the fort became aware that something unusual was happening on the slopes beneath the breach. It was a cold, crisp morning with streaks of mist lying in the valleys and a pale glow in the eastern sky. Cochrane was alerted and, training his telescope on the rough ground below the tower, he could clearly see an advancing body of troops. He quietly roused his men and within three minutes every man was at his post, ‘and though all were quick, there was no time to spare, for by this time the black column of the enemy was distinctly visible, curling along the valley like a great centipede; and with the daring enterprise so common among the troops of Napoleon, had begun in silence to mount the breach’.9 The attacking force was drawn from the 1st and 6th Italian regiments and consisted of more than 1,000 picked men. They came wi
th scaling ladders, and were wearing sombre grey capots, or greatcoats, over their colourful uniforms which explained why they had been able to get so close without being seen. The early morning calm was now broken by the crackle of musket fire, shouted orders, and then a dull explosion as the defenders set off one of the mines hidden in the rubble below the tower. Earth, stones and bodies were hurled in the air and a gaping hole appeared in the dense mass of the storming party. The British sailors cheered and hurled hand grenades but after a moment’s hesitation the enemy continued to advance up the hill, led by a colonel with a drawn sword whose cool composure was admired and noted by Cochrane and Marryat. Within a few minutes some forty of the attackers had climbed up to the breach with their ladders. There was just enough light for them to make out the man trap yawning before them; while they hesitated on the brink they came under ferocious fire from Cochrane’s men and were thrown back. The enemy had by now sustained heavy losses and a pile of dead and wounded lay on the rubble at the foot of the tower. The assault was abandoned and, gathering up their wounded, the enemy retreated down the slope accompanied by the derisive cheers and jeers of the defenders. Cochrane reckoned the Italians had lost more than fifty dead. His force had lost three dead, a British marine and two Spaniards.
The next three days were relatively quiet in the fort. The enemy were engaged in setting up new gun batteries. Out in the bay the boats of the Fame intercepted and captured a sailing vessel laden with provisions for the enemy troops. The boats from the Imperieuse took more sandbags across to Fort Trinidad and returned with two wounded Spaniards and a wounded French prisoner. During the evening of 2 December two warships were seen on the horizon and the next morning the 74-gun Magnificent and the bomb vessel Lucifer sailed into the bay and joined the three British warships anchored offshore, just out of range of the enemy guns.
On 4 December General Reille’s troops began a bombardment of the citadel, directing their fire at the old breach in the walls and enlarging it to such an extent that it was clear that the defending Spaniards would not be able to hold out much longer. On the same day there was a nasty accident in the fort. Some enemy soldiers had begun digging an entrenchment on the slopes below with the obvious intention of cutting off the defenders’ retreat and their line of communication with the boats of the Imperieuse. Five of Cochrane’s men were loading a long brass 24-pounder gun to use against this threat when the gun went off while it was being loaded. The victims were the two men who were ramming the cartridge home: a marine called William Foulkes and William Slaggot, a mizen-top man. In his memoirs Marryat recalled the scene in graphic detail: ‘The state of the poor marine was dreadful; his face was blown off to the bones; nose, eyes, lips, every feature, had disappeared, and the remains were left black as charcoal. Both his arms were blown off short at the shoulders; and the flesh of his chest had been carried away, so that you might perceive the motion of the vitals within.’10 Marryat noted that the man never complained or seemed to feel any pain: ‘With his bared and blackened jaws he continued to abuse the French, and to swear that as soon as he was well again he would have his revenge upon them.’11 The wounded man was laid down in a corner where his voice gradually failed him as he bled to death. He died within two hours. The mizen-top man had one arm taken off in the explosion and was blown over the castle walls. He landed on the rocks below and when his shipmates climbed down to him they expected to find him smashed to death by the fall. They were astonished to find him ‘quite sensible and collected’. He was taken across to the frigate, his arm was treated by Dr Guthrie, and he was put into his hammock. He appeared to be uninjured by his fall, made a full recovery and in due course was sent home.
That afternoon, in response to Cochrane’s signals, the Imperieuse moved to a position nearer the fort. A stream cable and anchor were used to warp the ship close under the land. Springs were then made fast to the anchor cable so the ship could be swung round as necessary to provide covering fire to the shore party in the event of a retreat. At daylight on 5 December the enemy renewed the bombardment of the citadel and Cochrane knew it would not be long before General Reille threw the full weight of his troops against Fort Trinidad. As always Cochrane took every precaution to ensure the safety of the men in his charge. He signalled the Imperieuse and ordered the boats to be armed and ready to make for the shore. The commanders of the Fame and the Magnificent realised what was happening and got under way. There was an offshore wind but they were able to beat towards the landing place where they anchored and hoisted out their boats ready to give assistance.
During the course of the morning the firing around the citadel ceased. Cochrane assumed that negotiations for surrender were in progress, and signalled for the boats to make for the shore. At noon O’Daly surrendered his force of 2,700 men to General Reille. Cochrane, realising that further resistance was futile, began an orderly retreat from Fort Trinidad. The Spanish defenders were taken off first, climbing down the rope ladders on the cliffs and embarking on the boats. While they did so the British seamen spiked the fort’s guns and heaved them over the walls. As they made the final preparations for blowing up the fort, stones and lumps of masonry began to fall from the tower as the enemy guns on the heights of Puig-Rom caused increasing damage to the structure. The British warships now opened fire on the enemy gun batteries and the enemy troops approaching along the shore. As the smoke from their broadsides swirled across the water the sailors and marines of the Imperieuse descended to the landing place and climbed aboard the waiting boats. The last to arrive were Cochrane and Mr Burney, the gunner, who had stayed behind to light the fuses of the demolition charges. The log of the Imperieuse records that the embarkation took place ‘under a brisk fire from the enemy forts and small arms on the hills’ but notes that at 2.30 p.m. the Imperieuse ‘weighed and made sail having got all the troops off without loss, and having made fire and laid a train to blow up the castle’.12
For some reason only one of the explosive charges detonated, blowing up the section of the fort near the breach. This was a disappointment for Cochrane who had hoped to raze the whole structure to the ground. But he could console himself with the fact that his tiny force of sailors and marines had inspired the Spanish defenders of the citadel and the fort to hold out against an army of 12,000 professional soldiers for nearly two weeks. He had lost only five men killed and twelve wounded during the course of the siege and the men under his charge had killed or wounded around 430 enemy soldiers. O’Daly’s losses in the citadel before his surrender were around seven hundred. The overall casualties suffered by General Reille during the siege of Rosas were around 1,000 men. The losses suffered by the invading army were serious enough but the resistance at Rosas had also held up the French advance and delayed the relief of the besieged French garrison at Barcelona. The coastal road in Catalonia continued to be dominated by the guns of British warships so that General St Cyr, in overall charge of the French advance, had no option but to take the inland route. Leaving behind his artillery and his reserves of ammunition and provisions he marched his army across the hills. Unfortunately for the British and their Spanish allies, he outmanoeuvred the Spanish forces besieging Barcelona and on 17 December he entered the city and relieved the French garrison. As the historian Piers Mackesy observed in his study of the war in the Mediterranean, ‘Once again it had been shown that though ships could harry an invading army, only troops could defeat it.’13
The day following the withdrawal from Fort Trinidad, Cochrane sent a despatch to Lord Collingwood in which he was at pains to praise the efforts of his seamen and marines. Among those he picked out for special mention were Mr Burney the gunner, Mr Lodowick the carpenter, and Midshipman Marryat. Collingwood had been much impressed by Cochrane’s actions at Rosas, noting, ‘His resources for every exigency have no end.’ On receiving Cochrane’s despatch he sent it on to the Admiralty with an accompanying note in which he pointed out, ‘The heroic spirit and ability which have been evinced by Lord Cochrane in defending this c
astle, although so shattered in its works, against the repeated attacks of the enemy, is an admirable instance of his Lordship’s zeal.’14
After enduring several days of strong gales and heavy seas the Imperieuse headed north along the coast. On 30 December a convoy of merchant vessels accompanied by two small warships was sighted in the sheltered harbour of Cadaques. The Imperieuse anchored off the town, bombarded the gun battery on the beach and took possession of eleven vessels laden with wheat, an armed cutter La Gauloise, of 7 guns, and what Marryat described as ‘a beautiful vessel called the Julie, mounting five guns, and a complement of forty-four men’.15 Cochrane later purchased the Julie for use as a private yacht.
At the end of January 1809 the Imperieuse joined Admiral Thornborough’s squadron at Minorca and Cochrane obtained permission to return to England. He was exhausted by the physical and mental strain of fourteen months of coastal raids and was hoping for some respite when the Imperieuse returned to Plymouth. Instead he was to find himself called upon to undertake the most dangerous operation of his naval career.
11
Entering the Gates of Hell
1809
When the Imperieuse sailed into Plymouth Sound on the afternoon of 19 March 1809, a signal from the port admiral ordered Cochrane to go ashore and await further orders from the Admiralty. A powerful French squadron had recently escaped from the blockade of Brest and sailed south to Basque Roads. There it had joined the French ships lying in the inner anchorage known as Aix Roads near the naval base of Rochefort. The combined force anchored in the lee of the Ile d’Aix consisted of eleven ships of the line and four frigates and was under the able command of Rear-Admiral Allemand.1 It was known that the intention of this fleet was to sail to the French island of Martinique and from there to launch an attack on the West India trade which was so important to Britain’s economy. To prevent this from happening a British fleet under the command of Lord Gambier was currently blockading the entrance of Basque Roads. However, the Admiralty was worried that the French fleet might slip out again and was determined that it should be destroyed. The idea of using fireships to achieve this had been discussed but those naval officers who had been consulted on the matter were discouraging. Lord Gambier, in particular, had reservations. Writing from Basque Roads on 11 March he had reported that ‘The enemy’s ships lie much exposed to the operation of fire-ships, it is a horrible mode of warfare, and the attempt hazardous if not desperate…’2
Cochrane the Dauntless Page 18
