by Roy Adkins
The next morning, he said, ‘they threw two shells from San Carlos much further than any they have yet thrown. One fell close by the wine house betwixt the South Barracks and Picardos Garden, the other burst in the air and some of the splinters went as far as Mr Wards, which is above 4000 yards from San Carlos.’ He was worried that they ‘have of late totally changed their mode of firing – are quiet through the night and only fire in the day, directing their fire at particular objects and with greater judgment than heretofore’.29 In particular, the Spanish gunners tried to aim at the garrison working parties, and because they had also recently adopted Mercier’s technique of cutting the fuses of their shells, many more casualties were caused when the shells burst overhead.
Earlier in the week, some information had been received from Portugal: ‘Grievances innumerable among the Enemy’s troops – Don Alvarez a tyrant, bread scarce, duty hard, and water execrable!’30 Two disaffected Walloon Guards, a corporal and a private, also managed to escape into Gibraltar on 20 November, bringing in first-hand information. Horsbrugh said they were examined separately, to ensure they were genuine deserters, and the corporal in particular gave valuable information, including a complete picture of the state of the Spanish fortifications. His description of their new St Paschal’s (or Pascual’s) battery, on the south-west side of the St Carlos battery, highlighted the massive scale of construction:
There are six cannon fixed behind the epaulment of the new battery next to San Carlos at a very great elevation and on the same principle with ours behind the old mole, with the intention to disturb our encampment and quarters at the southward. There are also two large and heavy mortars placed in the same battery. Their beds are strongly fixed down on the platforms which are sunk in the ground, and laid upon several thick piles of cork tree wood, of about twelve feet long, resting on large stones that are laid down in the bottom of pits dug for that purpose, and the vacant space between the piles is filled with clay or binding soil well rammed.31
The corporal then talked about the two batteries of St Martin’s, on the north-west side of St Carlos: ‘The first of the two six-gun batteries is finished, the guns mounted and placed under cover of the merlons. They are very busy laying the platforms in the second gun battery and constructing square traverses for magazines and covering their men. The guns for this battery lie ready behind the first return of their new approaches.’ He confirmed that another battery was planned much further out, in an exposed position: ‘A battery for eight or twelve guns is marked out at the extremity of the eastern branch or parallel. It is said the Chief Engineer disapproves of this battery and had only undertaken it by positive orders from the General.’32 This information, along with observations from the Rock, showed that the new batteries were designed to fire right over the northern defences and bombard the southern part of Gibraltar that had previously been reached only by gunboats. They were obviously so strongly built that the garrison was unlikely to destroy them by artillery fire alone.
The corporal also said that in the camp were about nine thousand troops, though two-thirds of them were militia, that there was much sickness, and that ‘the men were much dissatisfied with their situation, and greatly harrassed in raising the additional batteries; that they had suffered lately very severe losses from our fire’.33 This was probably the weakest force facing the Rock since the siege began.
In London on Sunday 25 November 1781, dispatches reached Lord George Germain, Secretary of the American Department, with the shocking information that the British had surrendered at Yorktown some five weeks earlier.34 He immediately forwarded the news to the king. Having led a major expedition to the southern colonies, General Charles Cornwallis had occupied Yorktown, where he and his army of over 7600 men were besieged by American and French troops under General George Washington and by a French fleet commanded by Vice-Admiral Comte de Grasse – the fleet that had slipped away unseen from Brest a few months earlier. The surrender of General Lord Cornwallis (nephew of Edward Cornwallis, Gibraltar’s former governor) marked the last great encounter of the American War of Independence, although the conflict would drag on for another year. That America had been sacrificed for Gibraltar was a view vigorously debated in Britain, for many believed that if the army and navy had not been involved in Gibraltar, the colonies might indeed have been saved. Ultimately, King George III had wanted both America and Gibraltar, but successive governments had diminished Britain’s armed forces, particularly the navy, to the point where they were not able to fulfil his wishes.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
COUNTERSIGN STEADY
With America lost, all hope inevitably turned to Gibraltar. Eliott would not hear about the disaster there for some time, but on 26 November 1781, the day after the Yorktown news reached London, he issued orders for the winehouses to shut immediately and for all the soldiers to go to their quarters. His evening garrison orders began: ‘Countersign, STEADY. All the grenadiers and light-infantry of the Garrison, and all the men of the 12th and Hardenberg’s regiments, officers, and non-commissioned officers now on duty, to be immediately relieved, and join their regiments.’1
It was now six in the evening, and Walter Gordon of the 73rd Regiment was on guard duty: ‘the 12th regiment and Hardenburgh regiment of Hanoverians were relieved off guard and picquet ... I was on picquet the same evening in the picquet guard, when a call came about eight o’clock for the grenadiers and light infantry’s picquet of the 73rd regiment to turn out. When I came to the door of the picquet room, C.B. of the royal artillery bid me adieu!’ His friend Charles Bell, an artillery matross, had already got wind of what was about to happen, but Gordon found his words strange: ‘I asked him in haste, what he meant? he told me he did not know whether or not he should ever see me again. I then enquired if he knew where we were to be sent, or upon what business? says he, you are going to burn the Mill Battery [St Carlos].’2
This was astounding news, because it meant that for the first time in two years of being besieged, he and other soldiers were about to embark on a sally or sortie – going into enemy territory to attempt to destroy the huge St Carlos battery that they persisted in calling the Mill battery, as well as the nearby batteries of St Martin’s and St Paschal’s. Eliott had been watching the siegeworks get closer and closer, and he knew that the Spanish troops could soon be reinforced with thousands more men from Minorca. It was a case of ‘now or never’ for such an attack, and it was useful to hear from the two recent deserters about the discord between senior officers, and that everything was lax in the camp. There had been no gunboat attacks of late, and as the Spanish gunners had recently gone over to firing only at particular targets in the daytime, there was every chance that their guns were not properly manned by night. The deserters had also given Eliott information about the guards, and when he took them to Willis’s they pointed out everything to him. Since then, he had kept them closely confined at the Convent to prevent communication with anyone else.3
Eliott formed his plans in secret. Nobody else knew until he told his officers on the evening of the 26th and gave them their orders, but there was no doubt this was a dangerous operation with the likelihood of numerous casualties and men taken prisoner. Charles Bell obviously expected the worst, and Gordon duly made his farewells: ‘I took my leave of my friend, desired him if I did not return, to write my friends in Aberdeenshire, and recommended myself to the care of providence.’4
Large numbers of the garrison’s forces were ordered to assemble at midnight on the Red Sands – the big parade ground just outside the town walls at Southport. Those involved were the entire 12th Regiment and Hardenberg’s Regiment, as well as all the grenadiers and light infantry from every other regiment. Traditionally, land battles were fought with lines of infantry facing each other as cannon fodder – much like warships fought in opposing lines, giving rise to the term line-of-battle ship, which was abbreviated to battleship. The grenadiers were elite foot soldiers whose normal fighting p
osition was on the right, and they tended to be the tallest of the men, armed with hand grenades – small shells. The light infantry, placed on the left, were agile skirmishers. The sortie would not be a set-piece battle, and the grenadiers and light infantry were to lead the way, dealing with any resistance.
In addition, there were various officers, artillerymen, naval seamen, engineers and artificers, as well as workmen drawn from the rank-and-file of different regiments. The whole lot was to be commanded by Charles Ross, which was itself extraordinary after all the trouble he had caused in his earlier feud with Boyd. He had returned to Gibraltar only two weeks previously, after being on leave since July and having at last been confirmed as colonel of the 72nd Regiment. He had already proved awkward when looking for suitable accommodation, with Spilsbury commenting: ‘Ross, not being satisfied with having turned a major, a captain and sub out of the house on Scud Hill, has now changed to Windmill Hill and there turned out a captain and 5 subs.’5 Even so, Eliott trusted Ross implicitly as the best person to be put in charge of this mission.
The orders were for ‘Each man to carry thirty-six rounds or more, a good flint in his piece [musket], and another in his pocket. No drums, excepting two with the 12th, and two with Hardenberg’s. No swords ... No volunteers will be allowed.’6 At midnight, everyone was assembled on the Red Sands parade ground, forming three columns two deep. Also at midnight, the remaining troops of the 39th and 58th regiments were told to assemble on the Grand Parade under the command of Colonel Picton, ready to help out if required. ‘It was with much satisfaction remarked that the greatest silence and regularity was preserved,’ Horsbrugh wrote, ‘and not a single man in liquor seen on the Parade.’7 They waited almost three hours for the moon to set, giving them the cover of darkness, and during that time the officers were given precise instructions about the task ahead.
At quarter to three in the morning, the right column (at the far end of the Red Sands parade ground) started to march off, followed by the centre column and finally the left column – around 2200 men and officers in all. The workmen, engineers, artillerymen and seamen were in the rear of each column, all carrying specialist tools. They moved steadily and silently through the Southport Gate, down Main Street past Eliott’s headquarters at the Convent on their left, then the burnt-out Spanish church on the right, navigating round the traverses. They would have maintained their silence as the 39th and 58th regiments came into view, waiting as reserves on the Grand Parade. The troops continued in the darkness as far as the Landport Gate – almost a mile’s march from where they started. It was, Horsbrugh noted, ‘a pleasant morning with a gentle breeze from the west’.8 For days, there had been no rain, though it was rather cold, as the winds had been mainly from the north and north-west.
Hanoverian troops formed the bulk of the right (or east) column, and their orders were to keep to the eastern side of the inundation, pass through Forbes’s barrier and then cross the sand dunes as far as the new eastern parallel that led from St Carlos battery to the site of a newly planned battery. The centre column was to follow the path known as the Strand alongside the Bay of Gibraltar, pass through the Bayside barrier and veer across the old market gardens towards St Carlos battery. The left column was to travel the furthest, along the Strand until they reached the St Martin’s and St Paschal’s batteries – a distance of over half a mile from the safety of Landport. The plan was for the light infantry and grenadier troops to move ahead swiftly and attack and defeat any guards, after which they were to form a defensive line while the Spanish works and guns were destroyed.
Just as the centre column was approaching the gardens, they were unexpectedly spotted by alert Spanish guards who, perhaps in the act of gathering vegetables, were taken completely by surprise and started firing before fleeing. Musket shots fired at deserters trying to reach Gibraltar was routine, and so they were ignored. In the centre column was Walter Gordon, who explained how they found their way in the dark: ‘A Spanish deserter was our guide; he did his part exceedingly well, yet we could have looked on with pleasure, and seen the traitor to his country hanged on a gibbet. Tho’ these rascals are necessary to their employers, and are well paid for their services, their very employers detest them, and every honest heart holds them in utter contempt.’9
The right column pushed on towards the parallel and took possession with virtually no resistance. Despite such guides, Hardenberg’s regiment from the right column then mistook their route and veered too far westwards, ending up at the formidable St Carlos battery. ‘In this dilemma,’ Drinkwater said, ‘no other alternative offered but pressing forwards, which they gallantly did, after receiving the Enemy’s fire. Upon mounting the parapet, the Enemy precipitately retreated, and with great difficulty they descended the stupendous work.’10 The front of the battery was a huge mound of sand, but the interior was a formidable timber structure measuring about 18 feet from the parapet to the bottom, and the Spaniards had already removed the ladders. Once the grenadiers from the centre column reached this battery, Hardenberg’s troops were mistaken for the enemy. Several were wounded, and it was only by shouting out the countersign ‘Steady’ that further friendly fire was prevented. When the centre column stormed another section of this battery, the Spanish captain of artillery was encountered, and he fought with a soldier from the 73rd Regiment until both were badly wounded. As the British troops attacked, Horsbrugh said, the gunners left behind on Gibraltar fired at the Spanish Lines and the two forts at each end: ‘The fire of upper batteries was during the attack laid on with great judgment on Fort Philip, the Barrier, and Sta. Barbara, supported with much vivacity.’11
Eliott had broken several rules of warfare. Not only did he remove over one-third of his men from the garrison to attack the enemy positions, but they also advanced well beyond an acceptable distance. He broke a further rule by taking part himself, which Horsbrugh witnessed: ‘The Governor went out at the head of the 12th Regiment, having ordered me as soon as the rear of that column [the left one] had passed Landport, to return and acquaint the Lieutenant Governor [Boyd] of his intention to go out a little way with the detachment.’12 If the Spaniards had organised a counterattack, the situation could have been perilous, leaving Gibraltar highly vulnerable, but the sortie was not a spur-of-the-moment decision. It was a carefully calculated risk based on all the intelligence at Eliott’s disposal.
As soon as each gun battery and fortification was taken and the Spanish guards killed or captured, the light infantry, grenadiers and other troops took up defensive positions to repel any attackers, while workmen, artificers and seamen from the Brilliant and Porcupine frigates rapidly set about the demolition process with axes, tomahawks, crowbars, hammers and other equipment. The men from the artillery regiment also embarked on their work, for which they were likewise well equipped, as one of their officers described:
Each non-commissioned officer was provided with a lighted slow [match] and paper match, and two portfires (which were carried in a 3-pounder empty cartridge, pricked in holes to give air). The portfires were lighted after the combustibles were fixed; one hammer and 6 spikes to spike up the ordnance; each private was provided with a fire faggot and 10 devils (or hand lights) which he carried in a bag slung across his shoulder; and also had two portfires each.13
Their first task was to spike all the ordnance, which was an effective and quick way of putting the guns out of action. It was done by driving a metal spike into the touch-hole, making it impossible to ignite a powder charge. In total, the men wrecked ten mortars and eighteen 26-pounder cannons, all made of brass. Already, the vast fortifications that had been watched for so long from the vantage point of the Rock were being destroyed, and their immense scale and engineering were highlighted by the same artillery officer, who first of all described the most recently constructed batteries:
Six pieces of brass ordnance were found in each of the two gun batteries [St Martin’s], which they term 24 pounders, mounted on new garri
son truck carriages, with spunges, rammers etc. complete. The guns were above 9 feet in length, carriages high, and seemingly constructed to allow great elevation. Batteries complete, and ready for immediate service; platforms short; plank laid parallel to the sill of the embrasure; a great slope to diminish the recoil, merlons about 10 feet high with fascines, and filled with sand-bags, etc. The western mortar battery [St Paschal’s] was about 60 yards long, and from 12 to 15 feet high, divided into 3 parts, lined with fascines, well made, and strongly picketted together. In the right division of the battery were two large brass 13-inch mortars, their beds were in frames of strong timber, sunk in the ground, so that their direction was invariable ... The center and left divisions of the battery had each 3 brass 26-pounders, fixed in frames of strong timber, their breech sunk about 2 feet below the surface ... they were all laid in the direction of our camp, apparently at about 40 degrees of elevation.14
He next outlined the appearance of the St Carlos battery, which had caused such devastation on Gibraltar since the bombardment started in April:
7 mortars of 13 inch and one of 11 [inch], all brass, whose beds were seated in the same manner ... One grand powder magazine situated at about 150 yards in the rear of the eastern angle, and another on the western angle for fixed ammunition ... There was also a capacious bomb-proof in the rear, nearly central, with a number of splinter-proofs of less note. The epaulment on face of the works, about 14 feet in height, well faced with fascines, and a space in front of the mortars, lined with a strong oak plank, at least 7 inches thick, which they had braced together by strong iron work. The battery was well provided with traverses of about 10 feet square, and nothing seemingly wanting to render it as complete as could be wished.15
