BEFORE entering on a description of the Great Siege, which stands foremost among the brilliant episodes of our military history, it will be necessary for the reader’s understanding of its details to put before him a view of the Rock and its defences as they then existed. In doing so we must necessarily avail ourselves of the close and careful account furnished by Captain Drinkwater, who wrote from personal knowledge, and shared in the various experiences of the siege. We shall, however, as far as possible, spare our readers the infliction of purely technical language.

The Rock of Gibraltar forms a kind of promontory rising seaward to a height of 1300 feet, and connected with the mainland by a low sandy isthmus. The landward face varies considerably in elevation.{26} The breadth of the isthmus at the foot of the Rock is about 2700 feet, but towards the country it broadens rapidly. Across this neck of land, which, with the Rock and the Algesiras coast, forms the Bay, the Spaniards, before the Great Siege, had erected a line of fortifications, 1700 yards in length, and distant about a mile from the nearest posts of the garrison. At each extremity a fort of twenty-four guns was erected; one christened St. Barbara, and the other St. Philip. Their cross-fire completely commanded the so-called Neutral Ground, a narrow belt or strip between English Gibraltar and the Spanish mainland.

The Rock, we must add, is divided into two unequal parts by a ridge extending from north to south. The western section is a gradual slope, broken up with precipices; but the eastern, which looks out upon the blue Mediterranean, and the northern, facing the Spanish batteries, are both very steep, and, in fact, inaccessible.

At the foot of the north-west slope, and surrounded by irregular fortifications, lies the town, which communicates with the isthmus by a long, narrow causeway, strongly bristling with defensive works. These, and the causeway itself, are over-{27}looked by the guns mounted in the King’s, Queen’s, and Prince’s lines; ramparts excavated out of the solid rock, and practicable only to birds of prey. At different heights, up to the very crest, batteries are planted so as to present to an enemy a peculiarly grim and forbidding aspect. The Old Mole, to the west of the Grand Battery, joined with the above lines to pour a tremendous cross-fire on the causeway and Neutral Ground. So great an annoyance did this battery prove to the besiegers, that, by way of distinction, they named it the Devil’s Tongue; and the entrance into the garrison, with its batteries here, there, and everywhere, and its cannons and mortars on the causeway and Old Mole, suggested to them the picturesque title of the Mouth of Fire.

All along the sea-line were stout bastions, joined by curtains, which were mounted with great guns and howitzers, and supplied with casemates for 1000 men. These sufficiently defended the town; which was protected also by a rocky shoal, stretching along the front far into the Bay, and preventing the approach of large ships. From the south bastion a curtain stretched up the base of the hill, and terminated the fortifications of the town at an inaccessible precipice. Here was placed the South-port gate, with a dry{28} ditch in front of it, a covered way, and glacis. Above this gate, on the rugged slope of the hill, and connected with the curtain, was a large bastion, pointing its guns at the Bay. Further up, an ancient Moorish wall ran along to the ridge of the rock, in the front of which a curtain, with loop-holes and redans, built in the reign and christened by the name of Charles V., extended to the summit. Between these two walls, the Moorish and the Emperor’s, stood the Signal-House, whence, on a clear bright day, the guard could command an unimpeded view of the Mediterranean, and discern even the shining waters of the Atlantic over the Spanish mountains. “Signals,” says Drinkwater, “formerly were made at this post on the appearance of topsail vessels from east and west, but soon after the commencement of the late war we discovered that the Spanish cruisers were more frequently informed of the approach of our friends by our signals than by their own. The signals were therefore discontinued during the siege, but resumed after the general peace of 1783.”

Following a line of ramparts along the beach, the visitor, at the time we are speaking of, came to the New Mole, with its 26-gun battery, and thence proceeded to the well-known quay of the Ragged Staff,{29} usually employed for the landing of stores for the garrison. Ships of the line could lie along the Mole, such was the depth of water; and at the Mole head was stationed a circular battery for heavy cannon. The Rock is not easily accessible from the New Mole fort to the north end of Rosia Bay, but it was defended, like every other point, by batteries and ramparts.

From the south end of Rosia Bay the cliff rose gradually to Buena Vista—so called on account of its beautiful view of the Spanish and African coasts, bathed in a glow of colour. Several guns were mounted there, and the hill towards Europa Point bore some defensive works. Thence the Rock sweeps down by the Devil’s Bowling-Green—so named, on the lucus à non lucendo principle,[1] from its rugged surface—to Little Bay, where a battery stood surrounded by frowning precipices; and onward stretched the line of works and batteries to Europa Point, the southern extremity of the garrison, though not the southern extremity of the European continent. From this point frown precipitous cliffs of the gloomiest aspect to Europa Advance, where{30} the fortifications were terminated by some few batteries.

Whether the young reader can or cannot follow in every particular the foregoing description, he will at least derive from it the idea of a not insufficient system of defensive works, which did credit to the ability of the engineer-officers of the time. Every point of vantage had its battery or bastion. The natural advantages of the position were carefully utilised, and the approaches were commanded by heavy guns, which could pour on an advancing enemy a withering fire. In all, the fortifications were armed with six hundred and sixty-three pieces of artillery.

The town of Gibraltar, says Drinkwater, is built on a bed of red sand. The houses were composed of different materials, principally of a solid well-tempered cement called tapia; but some of the rock-stone, plastered, and blue-washed on the outside, so as to moderate the fiery rays of the sun. These were generally covered with tiles, but the flat terraced roofs remained in the Spanish houses, and, in many, the mirandas or towers, whence the inmates, without removing from home, could luxuriate in a bright and ample prospect of the Bay and neighbouring coasts.

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VIEW FROM THE SIGNAL-STATION.

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Most conspicuous among the buildings was the old Moorish castle, which recalled to the spectator the palmy days of Saracenic supremacy in Spain. It was situated on the north-west side of the hill, and originally consisted of a triple wall, the outermost of which rose sheer from the water’s edge. The lower portions, however, had been destroyed before the siege, and on their ruins was planted the Grand Battery. The walls formed an oblong, ascending the hill, with the principal tower, or governor’s residence, at the upper angle. The remains of a mosque were still visible; as also those of a Saracenic court, and a tank or reservoir for water.

Ruins of Moorish edifices were discernible also on Windmill Hill, and at Europa. Those on the hill were in a condition which rendered it impossible to determine their original character; at Europa they have been converted by the Spaniards into a chapel, dedicated to the Virgin Mary. Fragments of Moorish walls run along the water’s edge; and near Europa Advance is a Moorish bath, which our English soldiers named the Nuns’ Well. It is sunk eight feet deep in the rock, and measures seventy-two feet by forty-two feet. Over it is an arcaded canopy, supported by graceful Saracenic columns.{32}

In the hill are numerous caves and hollows, some natural, and some improved by the hand of man. Of the former the most considerable appears to be St. Michael’s Cave, which lies on the south side, about eleven hundred feet above the sea-level. The remains of a strong wall are visible near this entrance, which is only five feet wide. On entering, the stranger finds himself in a considerable cavity, about two hundred feet in length, and ninety feet in breadth; and the light of his torch, if he penetrate into the interior, reveals the mouths of several other caves. From the roof depend stalactites of great size and curious shape, giving to the whole that character of Gothic architecture which is noticeable in all stalactitic grottoes. There are also numerous stalagmites, which in some cases almost join the calcareous droppings from the roof, and appear to form supporting pillars.

Mr. Bartlett describes in some detail a visit which he paid to this remarkable cave. Accompanied by a guide with blue lights, he descended the slippery pathway between lofty pillars of stalactite, to find himself in a darkness visible, and in a silence so deep and still that the droppings of the water which filters through the roof above could be distinctly

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THE LANDING-PLACE, AND REMAINS OF MOORISH CASTLE.

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heard as they fell at intervals on the rock beneath. The guide lighted a heap of brushwood, the blaze of which disclosed to view a lofty vault-shaped dome, supported as it were on columns of milk-white stalactite, not unlike the trunks of palm-trees, and a variety of fantastic foliage, some stretching down to the very floor of the cavern, others resting midway on rocky ledges and congealed calcareous masses, springing from the floor, “like the vestibule of some palace of the genii.” At a given signal the blue lights were kindled, and the entire scene, which before had been but partially illuminated, flashed into sudden splendour; hundreds of stalactites shone with a mysterious gleam; the lofty columns, fantastically wrought, seemed suddenly converted into silver, as if by the wand of some magician. This revelation of the wonders of the cavern was but transient; for the lights speedily burning down, Mr. Bartlett was forced to retire before he became involved in dangerous darkness. And this was the more necessary, in order to avoid a certain deep gloomy fissure, which forms the pathway into the unknown depths below. “While our eyes were endeavouring,” says a traveller, “to penetrate a little further into its mysteries, I suddenly flung my torch into it.{34} The effect was beautiful: the torch blazed brightly as it fell, making for itself a sort of halo of glittering gems, as it lighted the walls of the gulf momentarily but beautiful. We tried this with all the torches it was safe to spare, for we were far from daylight, and then tossed fragments of rock and crystals, which echoed far in the depths, and fell we knew not where. It is supposed that the whole Rock is galleried in this way. Explorations have been attempted, and two soldiers once undertook to descend this very gulf. One only returned, however; his comrade had disappeared for ever.”

An ominous and gloomy character attaches to this chasm, and it has been supposed that more than one poor fellow has here met with foul play,—having been enticed by assassins on various pretences into the cave, and, after having been plundered, flung into this horrible gulf, as a place that tells no tales.

Not long before Mr. Bartlett’s visit, a gentleman who was desirous of investigating into the penetralia of the cave, caused himself to be let down by ropes, bearing a light in his hand; but what was his horror, on his foot meeting with some resistance, to find that he was treading on a dead body, while his torch at the same time disclosed to him the livid features{35} of a murdered man! Another gentleman of Mr. Bartlett’s acquaintance explored the windings of the cave for a distance of four hundred feet. The actual extent of the subterranean passages has never been ascertained, and exaggeration and popular fancy find in it a fertile subject; the vulgar believing that it is the mouth of a communication beneath the Strait with Mount Abyla, and that by this sub-oceanic passage the apes upon the Rock found their way from Africa. The Moors, it is said, had a complete knowledge of the interior of the cave; and a fancy has sometimes prevailed that through these subterranean windings an enemy might obtain admission into the fortress!

The reader may be reminded that Captain Hamley, in some of the amusing tales which he formerly contributed to Blackwood’s Magazine, made good use of the Rock and its natural curiosities.[2]

In different parts of the hill may be found several other caves of the same description. One of these, called Pocoroca, was fitted up, at the beginning of the Great Siege, for the governor; but was afterwards converted into a powder-magazine, which proved greatly convenient for the batteries on the height.{36}

The fossils discovered in various parts of the Rock rank among its curiosities; but the visitor takes more interest in the apes which have colonized it. They breed in places inaccessible to man, and climb up and down the craggy precipices with wonderful celerity. The supposition is that they came from Barbary with the Saracens, as a similar species inhabit Mons Abyla, or, as it is popularly called, Apes’ Hill. In former days red-legged partridges, woodcock, teal, and wild rabbits frequented the Rock, but these have almost wholly disappeared before the rifles of our English sportsmen.

Drinkwater records that eagles and vultures annually visited Gibraltar on their way into the Spanish interior; and that the former bred among the precipices, and, with the hawk, might often be seen wheeling above its summit. The green lizard is still numerous; and scorpions and other reptiles haunt the neighbourhood of the fissures and the crevices of the Rock. The climate on the whole is genial. Winter loses all its severity; and the summer-heats are tempered by refreshing breezes from the sea. The worst inconvenience is the recurrence in December and January of violent thunderstorms, with gales, and heavy rains, almost tropical{37} in their fury. Yet there is so little soil on the Rock, that the climatic advantages do not produce any abundant vegetable-growth. When the rains set in, wild grasses shoot up in the chinks and fissures; but as soon as the sun reasserts its power, these disappear, and the eye rests only on bare, sombre, and sterile rock. The western slopes, however, present an agreeable contrast to the barrenness which everywhere else is dominant. There the vegetation, though dwarfed, is dense; palmettos flourish, and lavender, and Spanish broom, while the rugged rock absolutely blooms with roses, periwinkles, and asphodels.

The view from the summit is perhaps sufficient to compensate for any deficiency of beauty in the Rock itself. The spectator stands there on the boundary, as it were, of the Old World, on the confines of two great continents. At his feet the low and narrow tongue of land, called Europa Point, stretches far into the sea, covered with bastions and casemates, intermingled with villas and gardens. To the west extends the undulating line of the Strait, with its waters of an intense blue, and beyond rises the rocky coast of Tarifa, while the mighty sweep of the Atlantic Ocean is lost in the western vapours.{38} On the right, the Mediterranean, of a pale azure, relieved by flashes and gleams of silver, beats in pearly foam against the very foot of the Rock; opposite frown the dusky cliffs of Africa, with the white houses and dismantled fortifications of Ceuta, visible at the bottom of a vast bay, and the Mount Abyla of the ancients, that other “Pillar of Hercules,” looking as if, in truth, a demigod had torn it from the Rock of Gibraltar, and planted the two huge fragments as gigantic landmarks at the extremity of the universe.

Bring your gaze back to nearer points, and on the right you see the graceful rounded outline of the sheltered Bay, associated with the names of Rodney, and Howe, and Nelson, and Collingwood, whose “tall ships” have so often rested upon its waters. Gibraltar stands on the one side, its harbour thronged with masts; on the other, the small town of Algesiras lies on the slope of the hills, and bathes its feet in the warm, bright waves. In the curve shelters the village of San Roque, the first the traveller meets with on entering Spain; nearer still, and in the rear, we see the thin sandy isthmus which links Gibraltar to the mainland. The division between English and Spanish territory is marked by a

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EUROPA POINT.

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row of towers, and we can distinguish close at hand the tents of a small camp always occupied by a few regiments. Finally, the background of the picture, beyond San Roque, is filled in with the green mountains of Ronda; and towering above and behind these, the rose-tinted peaks of the Sierra Benneja, and the snowy summits of the Alpuxarras. It is difficult to conceive a grander spectacle.

 

We have thus endeavoured to furnish the reader with a general view of the Rock, and town, and fortifications of Gibraltar at the time that General Elliot assumed the governorship.

In 1777 the position of Great Britain was one of apparent peril, and her enemies were not without grounds for their belief that her power had received a mortal blow. Her North American colonies had seceded, and all her attempts to reduce them to obedience had failed, while her military prestige had been obscured by the surrender of Burgoyne’s army at Saratoga. France had espoused the cause of the American States, whose ambassador had been received at Versailles with special distinction. The circumstances of the time seemed favourable to Spain to attempt a recovery of her coveted fortress; and{40} in June she issued a declaration of war. But instead of being cowed by this demonstration on the part of another enemy, the public spirit of England was roused to a fever of patriotism. The fleets of Spain and France rode in the Channel with as mighty a display as when Drake and his compeers launched their frigates against the Invincible Armada. To their sixty-six sail of the line, the British admiral, Sir Charles Hardy, could oppose only thirty-eight; but with them he succeeded in preventing the enemy from landing an invading army. The chief attack of Spain, however, was directed against Gibraltar, and she cared little to expend her resources in any other direction.

 

At the outbreak of hostilities, General Elliot, the veteran governor of the Rock, found himself at the head of a garrison 5382 strong. He had 428 artillerymen and 106 engineers; and as soon as he had been apprised of the possibility of war, had privately made preparations for defence. On the 21st of June, by order of the Spanish Court, communication between Spain and Gibraltar was closed; and efforts were made to arrange for constant supplies of provisions from Barbary. Admiral Duff, at the{41} same time, brought his ships—a 60-gun man-of-war, three frigates, and a sloop—alongside the New Mole; the barriers were everywhere shut; and at all exposed points the guards were strengthened. Meanwhile, the enemy made no overt movement against the fortress; but it was observed that in various places they were collecting deposits of earth and other materials, and mounting new guns along their line of entrenchments. And in the course of July they assembled a powerful fleet in the Strait; while the camp was constantly being reinforced with additional regiments of cavalry and infantry.

Towards the middle of August the enemy succeeded in establishing a strict blockade, and it was conjectured that their object was to reduce the garrison by famine. Only forty head of cattle were in the place, and the vigilance of the Spanish cruisers interrupted the supplies from Barbary. Two bullocks, however, by the governor’s order, were killed daily for the use of the sick. Due warning had been given to the inhabitants of the peril impending over them, and each person had been directed to have in store six months’ provisions. By far the greater number this precaution had been neglected; and as they could not be supplied from the garrison{42} stores, most of them were compelled to quit Gibraltar and go elsewhere in quest of subsistence.

On the 12th of September some of the British batteries opened fire on the enemy, with the view of interrupting the workmen engaged in enlarging and pushing forward their fortifications; and for several days the firing was kept up, though with no particular vigour. In November the garrison began to experience the effects of scarcity, and provisions fetched the most extravagant prices. Mutton was 3s. and 3s. 6d. per lb.; veal, 4s.; pork, 2s. and 2s. 6d.; a pig’s head fetched 19s., and ducks from 14s. to 18s. a couple; while a goose was prized at a guinea. Fish was not less dear, and vegetables were scarcely attainable “for love or money;” but bread, the staff of life, was the article most wanted. It was about this period, says Drinkwater, that the governor made trial what quantity of rice would suffice a single person for twenty-four hours, and for eight days he actually lived on four ounces of rice a day. General Elliot, however, was always remarkable for his abstemiousness of living, his general fare being vegetables, simple puddings, and water. He was not the less a robust and healthy man, capable of much hard work and exercise; but the scanty diet{43} just mentioned would certainly not suffice for a man working hard in a climate where the heat makes exhausting demands on the human frame.

On the 14th October occurred an episode which gives a striking idea of the courage and resources of the British seaman “of the olden time.” About eight in the morning the look-outs discovered a small cutter, flying the British flag, coming down towards the Bay with a westerly wind. It proved to be the Buck, Captain Fagg, fitted out as a privateer, and carrying 24 nine-pounders. The Spaniards also sighted her, and made the usual signal for seeing an enemy, at Cabrita Point. Immediately, the Spanish admiral, with a ship of the line, a 50-gun ship, a 40-gun frigate, and some smaller craft, twenty-one in all, got under weigh to intercept this formidable foe! The Buck, nothing daunted, changed her course, and stood direct for the Barbary coast, speeding along at a gallant rate; while the Spanish frigate, xebecs, and lighter craft, unable to sail so closely to the wind, were carried downward by the strength of the current, like a squadron of huntsmen when baffled by the sudden doubling of a hare. When the Spanish admiral, who was last in the chase, became aware of this misadventure, he tacked,{44} wore round, and returned to the Point, so as to cut off the Buck in the Bay. The 50-gun ship also wore, and in this way checked her drift to leeward. Captain Fagg at this moment steered direct for the garrison. The 50-gun ship endeavoured to intercept her, but the batteries at Europa opened fire, and drove her off. Then the Spanish admiral bore down heavily from Cabrita Point, but the Buck nimbly man?uvred past her, and replied to a couple of irregular broadsides of shot and shell with her little stern-chase guns,—soon afterwards anchoring safely under the cannon of the Rock.

The privateer brought neither news nor supplies, and, indeed, was sadly in want of provisions. Yet the incident cheered the garrison greatly, for it showed that the Bay was still open to ships from England, if managed as skilfully and boldly as Captain Fagg’s cutter.

 

We pass on to January 1780. On the 8th a Neapolitan vessel was wind-driven within range of the British guns, and compelled to surrender. She proved to be an argosy of great price, having on board about six thousand bushels of barley, than which nothing could have been more acceptable to{45} the garrison. The inhabitants had for some time been put upon a daily ration of bread, which was delivered by the bakers under the protection of sentries with fixed bayonets. Yet even this precaution did not prevent a scene of excitement daily; and in the struggling, pushing, heated crowd it was necessarily the strongest who gained the advantage,—forcing their way to the front, and frequently carrying off the portions that should have gone to feeble women and helpless children. Nor were the inhabitants the only sufferers. Many officers and soldiers had to support their families on the scanty dole allowed by the victualling-office; and a private, with his wife and three children, must have been starved, but for the assistance generously rendered by his comrades. It is recorded that one woman actually perished of hunger; others were reduced to such a condition of feebleness that it was with difficulty they were saved; and numbers eked out a wretched existence on wild leeks, thistles, dandelions, and the like.

Necessity is the mother of invention, and hunger sharpens the wits of needy men. Some Hanoverian soldiers, in their distress, were stimulated to devise a new process of chicken-hatching. The eggs were{46} placed, with some such warm substance as cotton or wool, in a tin case capable of being heated by a lamp or hot water; and a proper temperature being maintained, they were hatched about as quickly as if a hen had sat upon them. A capon was then trained to rear the little ones; and, to prepare him for this unusual duty, his breast and belly were stripped bare of feathers, and he was cruelly flagellated with a bunch of nettles. When placed upon the brood, they afforded so much warmth and comfort to his poor smarting body, that he addressed himself to the task of rearing them with considerable satisfaction.

On the 10th a soldier of the 58th Regiment was executed for stealing,—a sharp but necessary example.

On the 12th the monotony of the siege was interrupted by a discharge of ten shot from one of the Spanish forts. They did some slight damage to houses, and wounded a woman; but their principal effect was to scare the inhabitants, who, fearing that a bombardment was about to commence, packed up their valuables, and made preparations for concealing themselves in all kinds of places. On the cessation of the firing, however, they regained courage.{47}

On the 15th, wistful eyes looking out to seaward were rejoiced by the appearance of a brig carrying the British flag, which, regardless of the enemy’s batteries, stood right into the Bay, and brought the glad intelligence that she was the forerunner of a large convoy which had sailed from England............