Gibraltar
Page 30
The paperwork salvaged from the Santa Catalina had evidence of a spy network, as Drinkwater recounted: ‘On board the prize were found papers describing the Vernon, to the most minute part of her rigging, at the same time mentioning the officers’ names, who were passengers, and every particular article of her cargo.’30 Drinkwater also heard that several enemy ships had been specifically looking for the Vernon. These papers demonstrated the important role of espionage in European warfare. Before being allowed to be sent, all letters from Gibraltar were vetted, and every care was taken to safeguard dispatches to Britain, as seen in the sailing orders issued by Eliott to the St Ann:
You are hereby directed and required ... to make the best of your way to England, and on no account to deviate from your course to go in chace, nor are you to speak with any vessel, but use your best endeavours to make your passage with the utmost expedition. You are to receive and give passage to all such persons as shall be sent on board by Capt. Curtis’s order, or by mine thro’ the Quarter Master General, and no other passengers whomsoever. The dispatches which will be committed to your care you are to deliver to the post master of the first port at which you may arrive, to whom you are to give directions to forward them to London by express. And in the mean time you are to keep a sufficient weight constantly affixt to them, that in case you should be attacked by an Enemy and no probability of escaping, they may, previous to your striking, be thrown overboard and sunk.31
On the Rock, it was the deserters who provided more information than spies about what was happening within the besieging forces, and the Spaniards also made good use of deserters from the Rock, but occasionally men suspected of being spies were arrested in Gibraltar. They were interrogated, tried and usually sentenced to death if found guilty, and a few weeks earlier Antonio Juanico, a mariner, had been tried on the charge of being employed as a spy by the Spanish general Don Martin Alvarez.32 After being found guilty, Eliott ordered him to be hanged, declaring that ‘in regard to spies and traitors, it has ever been an established maxim amongst all nations that as their crimes are of the most enormous kind, for as much as the mischief they may occasion is of the most alarming nature, so their punishment should be capital’. Two weeks later, he was granted a stay of execution, and in early March Eliott pardoned him from ‘a motive of compassion for the miserable situation of the Convict’s family’. There was one condition – Juanico should atone for this serious offence by ‘constantly serving on board His Majesty’s Ships during the present war, and that he never attempts to put his foot on shore again in this Fortress’.33 He was lucky to escape with his life.
Just five days after arriving with the Cerberus and Apollo, most of the 97th Regiment fell ill, and the hospital became extremely crowded. A few weeks later, Spilsbury wrote disparagingly: ‘A picquet was demanded from the 97th, but they could not furnish it. So much for young Regiments’, but after a few days he was more sympathetic: ‘The 97th still sickly and dying fast; their fever is contagious, and others of the Garrison have it.’34 Seventy men died of the fever, possibly typhus, and the remainder of the regiment would be of little use for several months.
The artillery firing continued on both sides regardless, bringing with it yet more injuries and deaths, and after one severe thunderstorm Boyd’s journal noted that it was impossible to distinguish thunder and lightning from the awesome artillery fire: ‘how amazed we stand and cry, that’s the report of a gun, nay a second says it is a shell, and a third it’s thunder, so confused we stand aghast not knowing which way to look for safety, from sulphur, smoke and fire! If this is not a representation of the worlds expiring in flames, I do not know what is.’35 Because of their burning fuses, it was easier to spot incoming shells rather than cannonballs, but many people found themselves transfixed, unable to move out of the way.
Even in good light in the daytime, with calm weather, it was often difficult to spot incoming fire, but some of the very young soldiers possessed this uncanny skill and were employed to keep a look-out. At Willis’s on 25 March, the day after the ordnance convoy arrived, Drinkwater recorded: ‘The boy who was usually stationed on the works where a large party was employed, to inform the men when the Enemy’s fire was directed to that place, had been reproving them for their carelessness in not attending to him; and had just turned his head toward the Enemy, when he observed this shot, and instantly called for them to take care: his caution was however too late; the shot entered the embrasure.’ This one shot alone ‘took off the legs of two men belonging to the 72d and 73d regiments, one leg of a soldier of the 73d, and wounded another man in both legs: thus four men had seven legs taken off and wounded by one shot.’36 He added:
It is somewhat singular, that this boy should be possessed of such uncommon quickness of sight, as to see the Enemy’s shot almost immediately after they quitted the guns. He was not, however, the only one in the Garrison possessing this qualification; another boy of about the same age was as celebrated, if not his superior. Both of them belonged to the Artificer company, and were constantly placed on some part of the works to observe the Enemy’s fire: their names were Richardson and Brand; the former was reputed to have the best eye.37
They were actually called Thomas Richmond, a carpenter, and John Brand, a mason, whose fathers were sergeants in the company, and they had the nicknames of ‘Shell’ and ‘Shot’. Another artificer boy, Joseph Parsons, was said to be equally talented.38
The bombardment was so constant that almost every entry in Boyd’s journal around this time begins with the words ‘Firing continues’. On 10 April, during a particularly fierce bombardment, Ancell mentioned the death of one young officer who was leading the guard uphill to the Spur battery: ‘a shell which fell in Landport Ditch [a covered way], just as the new guard came to relieve the old one, killed Lieutenant [Thomas] Whetham, of the 12th Regiment, wounded his servant who was on the right of the guard, and blew the drummer’s drum in pieces. He was an amiable officer, and well respected; the loss of him is much regretted by all ranks.’39
Two days later, on 12 April 1782, everyone was expecting a massive assault because it was the first anniversary of the bombardment that had started when Darby’s convoy arrived. Instead, the Spaniards behaved strangely, firing a single gun every two or three minutes, and, according to Drinkwater, ‘Some jocular person in the Garrison remarked, that perhaps they were commemorating the day with fasting and prayer, and by their minute-guns expressing their sorrow, that so many thousand barrels of powder, and rounds of ammunition, should have been expended to so little purpose.’40 The Spaniards, though, were not giving up, but were actually laying out more camps for troops and extending their fortifications, in expectation of reinforcements.41 Now and again, the gunners on the Rock managed to set fire to parts of the siegeworks, with everyone admitting that the Spaniards behaved with particular courage in extinguishing the fires, but it was obvious that after the success of Minorca, the Duc de Crillon was now going to take charge of operations, with France joining forces for a final assault on Gibraltar.
This was a bleak prospect for the garrison, and more soldiers chose to desert, while others committed a series of crimes, with brutal punishments inflicted on anyone who was caught. In mid-April, Horsbrugh related: ‘Edward Hammerton, soldier in the 12th Regiment, was tried by a General Court Martial for attempting to commit sodomy with a drummer of the same regiment and sentenced to receive five hundred lashes on his bare back and backside, with a Cat of Nine Tails from the hands of the common hangman under the gallows, and to stand in a pillory for the space of two hours at such time or times as the Governor shall appoint.’42 This was lenient, because he could have been hanged for sodomy. Another journal recorded a soldier by the name of Atkins who decided to desert rather than await punishment for robbing a soldier of the 72nd of his watch and money: ‘The batteries fired very heavy upon him, and it’s thought he is deadly wounded by the bursting of a small shell, as he was carried into the enemy’s works
by 3 or 4 men. The loss of this man (being an old offender in bad practices) is better lost than found, and as to intelligence, he can give none of any consequence.’43
The Spaniards already knew that the garrison had received artillery supplies and gunboats, so it was only details of the defences on the Rock that deserters could offer. Trials of the new gunboats now took place, with one soldier commenting: ‘We promise ourselves great things from these gun-boats, during the summer.’44 They were put under the command of Captain Roger Curtis, but were hardly used at first, because the following few weeks proved strangely quiet, with the amount of firing greatly diminished. The Spaniards were instead concentrating on increasing their troop numbers and improving their fortifications. Even more remarkable was a period of silence from seven o’clock in the evening of 4 May to seven in the evening of the following day, when no firing whatsoever took place from the Spanish artillery and the garrison. It was, as Drinkwater noted, ‘the first twenty-four hours in which there had been no firing for the space of nearly THIRTEEN MONTHS’.45 This lull in firing was not to last, and the siege was about to change direction.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
FRENCH INGENUITY
An outline of a new plan for attacking Gibraltar appeared in the French press in the spring of 1782 and was soon translated and published in British newspapers:
LETTER from PARIS, March 15.
The officer who has planned the attack of Gibraltar is Monsieur D’Arcon, Sub Brigadier of the French corps of Engineers. The Duc de Crillon, who was well acquainted with that gentleman’s abilities, had called him to Spain ... Mons. de Arcon, on his arrival at Cadiz, some time in August [1781] was much surprised to hear that he was to proceed to Minorca, a place of which he had not the least knowledge. He requested leave to return to France, but was desired to stay at Cadiz, in order to bring to perfection his plan, by surveying Gibraltar on every side. He thus spent six months in going backwards and forwards to St. Roch [San Roque], Algeciras, Ceuta &c.1
At the start of the siege in 1779, King Carlos III had asked for ideas on capturing Gibraltar. Of the sixty-nine replies, most were too outlandish to consider seriously. One that came to the fore was presented by Pedro Pablo Abarca de Bolea, the Count of Aranda, who proposed a massive Franco-Spanish invasion of England in order to force the British government to concede to various demands, including Spain taking possession of Gibraltar. This plan was received favourably, but shrank in size and scope after being discussed, amended and agreed with the French, resulting in the invasion attempt that had failed so dismally.2
When the sustained bombardment of Gibraltar also failed to bring the garrison to its knees, the other plans were considered once again, and in July 1781 that of the forty-seven-year-old French military engineer, Jean-Claude-Eléonor Le Michaud d’Arçon, was chosen. His suggestion was for a combined attack from land and sea, relying especially on a bombardment from formidable floating gun batteries. There had been few previous attempts to build and use such vessels, and d’Arçon’s planned attack against Gibraltar would be the first to employ elaborately designed and constructed floating batteries as the main thrust of an attack. Warships were effectively floating batteries, because their main purpose was to carry as many cannons as possible to counter enemy warships, but they did not have a great deal of protection against cannonballs fired at them. At close range, solid shot could smash through both sides of a warship, and they were particularly vulnerable to red-hot shot, which might burn right through the bottom of a ship, set it on fire or ignite the gunpowder magazines. They could not withstand prolonged artillery fire from batteries on land and had no chance of making a dent in strongly built masonry defences, such as those on Gibraltar. D’Arçon therefore wanted to create gun batteries that floated on the sea, but had the resilience and firepower of land batteries.
By April 1782 he had been working on his plan for several months and had spent a considerable time surveying the coastline and defences of Gibraltar. From time to time suspicious activity was noticed, as on one occasion when Horsbrugh recorded: ‘At five in the morning the Vanguard and Repulse prames fired each a shot at a small boat they supposed to be sounding or reconnoitring.’3 Using such a small boat in the dead of night, d’Arçon avoided being wounded or captured while he took soundings close to Gibraltar, but the surveying was only the beginning, because the major work was in the preparation of the floating batteries, which started in Cadiz and then shifted to Algeciras.
British newspapers also published other details they had learned about d’Arçon:
His plan has been adopted, and requires only 18,000 men. He is now at Algesiras, busy in the construction of boats, which are so formed as not to be overset or burnt. It is supposed that the principal attack will be made by sea, towards the New Mole ... and the advanced works, which are daily encreasing, will unite in the general onset, the success of which, if not beyond doubt, appears at least very probable to those who are acquainted with the abilities of the engineer.4
The attack on the Rock would be a battle between engineers: d’Arçon and his staff, who were devising novel methods of assault, pitted against William Green and his engineers, who were doing everything they could think of to defend Gibraltar.
News of d’Arçon’s scheme soon reached the garrison, and on 11 April one soldier wrote in his diary:
By letters from Portugal, by a boat this morning, we learn that the enemy are fitting up a number of ships, at Cadiz, intended for floating batteries to come against the walls: it is said they are to be lined with cork and oakum, and rendered shot and shell proof; that the Duke de Crillon is to have the command of the army in camp, and that, as soon as he arrives with the conquering troops from Minorca, the regular siege against this place will commence.5
Having suffered so much for nearly three years, the soldier was appalled by the arrogance of the suggestion that, up to now, it had not been a proper siege. ‘In the name of all that is horrible in war,’ he raged, ‘what is meant by a siege, if bombarding, cannonading, and blockading on all sides ... is not one?’6 The idea that the French would now start a ‘regular siege’ probably emanated from their disdain for the Spanish military effort.
D’Arçon’s plan was to convert a number of merchant ships into floating batteries. The work had already begun at Cadiz, where the internal frames of each ship were strengthened and the hull covered with cork and oakum. The unpicked fibres from lengths of old rope were called ‘oakum’, while ‘junk’ was the old rope itself. On Gibraltar, the floating batteries were not only referred to as battering ships, but also as ‘junk ships’ because of the old rope used in their construction. Over this flexible layer of cork and oakum, a complete hull was built of new timber, resulting in a triple-thickness hull designed to absorb the impact of cannonballs, in the same way that worn-out rope made into mats was used by the garrison to absorb the impact of cannonballs fired at their gun batteries. In March one batch of ships had been brought to Algeciras for the next stage of conversion into floating batteries, and more arrived in early May, but Ancell heard that onlookers were not impressed: ‘The eight large ships that arrived over the way the 9th instant [9 May] are hauled close to the shore, and are unrigging, and those that arrived on the 24th March have proceeded to the Orange Grove. It is currently reported that they are lined with cork, and are to be converted into batteries, but most people think that they are more fit for fire-wood, than attacking a fortress.’7
This work was taking place within sight of Gibraltar, and the progress of the ships was a subject of constant interest, with Horsbrugh recording what was happening only a few days later: ‘in the Bay of Algaziras they are begun to cut down the quarter deck and poops of the two ships lately hauled in shore, on which work a number of boats and men appear to be employed’. They were being prepared for one or two specially strengthened gun decks within the hull that could support large cannons. Towards the end of May, it became obvious that the ships were
also being given additional protection. ‘This forenoon we had a tolerable good view of the Enemy at work on their shipping at Algaziras,’ wrote Horsbrugh. ‘They are covering their larboard [port] sides with timber or planks, which is no doubt intended as a defence against our shot &c.’8 Speculation was rife, and another soldier commented: ‘The enemy have been fully employed these ten days past on two very large ships at Algesiras, thickening the larboard side with light materials. They have cut out eleven or twelve ports between decks, and shortened the larboard waist. I suppose they intend to make the upper deck splinter proof, as well as the sides shot proof. From every appearance, they will be snug batteries on the water.’9
Because the starboard side was not being reinforced, the assumption was that the floating batteries were intended to fire only from their port side towards the garrison. They would therefore need to be towed into position by boats and be securely anchored, which would make them stationary targets. There was widespread scepticism, and Ancell remarked that ‘most of the garrison are of opinion, from their construction, that they will be found of very little use when they attack our walls, as they never will be able to tow them near enough to do any material execution, for should they daringly come on, their boats will be inevitably cut off by the grape shot from the garrison’.10