The Guernseyman

by Parkinson, C. Northcote

  “So the big assault is to come in a few weeks time, eh?”

  “That, sir, is the general belief. The Duc de Crillon must attack soon, for the campaigning season ends in October. If Gibraltar doesn’t fall then it won’t ever be taken, or so the soldiers say.”

  “Gibraltar taken? The French and Spanish have as good a chance of reaching the moon!”

  Later that day Richard asked permission to see Captain Curtis. He reported to him on board the frigate Brilliant.

  “I find, sir, that there is another post-captain here; Captain Bradshaw, convalescent in the hospital. That being so, I beg to offer myself as a candidate for promotion, hoping to be examined as soon as Captain Bradshaw is well enough.”

  “Bradshaw? Yes, I’ve heard of him and he’s high on the list, by George! I’d no idea he was here, though, or I should have done myself the honour of calling on him.”

  “He has not so far been allowed to receive visitors, sir.”

  “As ill as that? But now recovering?”

  “He tells me, sir, that he is on the mend.”

  “But how did you come to meet him?”

  “We met by chance, sir, near the hospital.”

  “A stroke of luck, eh? But how did Captain Bradshaw come here in the first place?”

  “His ship, the Hector, was condemned on survey. He fell sick on passage home in the frigate Dolphin and was landed here suffering from what was thought to be a mortal illness.”

  “The medical men must be pleased.”

  “Yes, sir—and even more astonished.”

  “Very well, then, I’ll call at the hospital and let you know what I decide … Did you hear, by the way, of what happened yesterday at the North Bastion?”

  “I was there today, sir. I think the artillerymen were at fault, having too many cartridges near the gun.”

  “They’ll take that lesson with them to the next world. When the big assault comes on the west side that is one of the batteries that will be taken in reverse. It was badly planned in my opinion—and adding the cavalier has made it worse. Our engineers are supposed to know their trade but I wonder sometimes whether some of them are not wanting in experience. No one could say that about General Eliott, I’ll allow, but much of the defensive work dates from before his time.”

  “When did he become governor here, sir?”

  “Seven years ago, I understand … he is the most extraordinary man I ever met. He is old enough to have fought at Dettingen and Fontenoy—to have been aide-de-camp to King George II. But his energy is astounding! He eats little and no meat at any time, drinks nothing but water and never seems to sleep for more than an hour or two. All this at the age of about sixty-five! Most of what we know about war, Gibson and I, we have learnt from him. An amazing man, the general. I’ll contrive some time that you should be presented to him.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Richard came away from this interview with two impressions, both reassuring. First of all, he was being treated like a brother officer, not like a master’s mate filling a temporary vacancy. Captain Curtis seemed almost to assume that he would pass for lieutenant and that his acting-promotion would be confirmed. In the second place, Curtis was so engrossed in siege warfare as almost to see himself as a soldier. Richard began to suspect that he would be examined, at least partly, in engineering, a subject in which he was beginning to feel proficient. What active service he had seen had been mostly ashore! He, too, could almost pass as a soldier. And why not? He was, after all, the great-grandson of a major in Prince Rupert’s Regiment of Dragoons. As for the science of fortification, he had best do some revision over the next few days. A week later he was told that his examination would take place on the afternoon of 29 August at the hospital, to which place Captain Bradshaw was still confined.

  On the morning of the 28th the enemy’s fleet at Algeçiras was reinforced by six Spanish sail of the line. News of this came as something of a shock—the sail when first sighted were thought to be British. With the enemy so strengthened there was nothing further the British frigates could do. Captain Curtis sent for his officers and told them of this change in the situation.

  “So you see, gentlemen, we can do nothing against the enemy afloat. This ship and the Porcupine will be taken inside the New Mole and probably sunk there. Our other vessels will be similarly withdrawn or beached. All officers and men will march to a camp at Europa Point, where our sails will provide the mess tents. We shall there form and exercise as a brigade for service ashore. I am to rank as colonel and acting brigadier-general, Captain Gibson as lieutenant-colonel. Detailed orders will be issued later today but I should explain now that eight lieutenants will rank as army captains, eighteen midshipmen as ensigns. A class will assemble presently at which Captain Maxwell of the Royal Marines will repeat and explain the military words of command. These you should know now but it’s easy to forget what we do not constantly practise. We are all soldiers from tomorrow and will show the garrison that we are as much to be feared on land as at sea. That will be all, gentlemen, for the present.”

  Richard left the captain’s day cabin with the others and the Porcupine’s junior lieutenant, Wallis, turned to him with a grimace:

  “We shall be nearly dead of fatigue, we soldiers, by tomorrow evening. It will be a day’s work not soon to be forgot. But I hear tell that you have found a way to miss the half of it. A clever scheme, eh? But I wish you luck.”

  “Thank you. I am more than a little nervous, though. What sort of questions must I expect?”

  “When I took it, the presiding officer began by saying ‘You command a frigate on the Channel Station and are on passage from the Downs to Falmouth. There is a freshening gale from the south, veering to sou’-west and becoming a full gale after you have passed St Alban’s Head at a distance of twelve miles. It seems doubtful to you whether you can clear Portland Bill. What orders do you give and to whom?’”

  “Easy, so far. I head for Weymouth.”

  “So did I, but the fore-topmast broke at the cross-trees and the fore course was blown out of the bolt-ropes.”

  “And then the rudder fell off, I suppose?”

  “That came later, when we were nearly ashore off Kimmeridge.”

  “So you dropped anchor in ten fathoms and the cable parted a minute later.”

  “You must have been listening at the keyhole.”

  “You are lucky to be alive, let alone commissioned.”

  “At the time I wished I was dead with the ship sunk and the examiners on board.”

  “But you passed for all that and I hope to God that I can do the same. But Gibson, I hear, is as keen on navigation as Curtis is on seamanship. If one doesn’t fail me, t’other will.”

  “I’ll allow that we are all astronomers on board Porcupine. How good are you with lunar observations?”

  “No good at all. I always add where I ought to subtract.”

  “Then I’ll hope for your sake that Curtis does all the talking. I believe he thinks well of you, anyway.”

  On the afternoon of the 29th Richard dressed as neatly as possible, borrowed a sword from Tibbenham, third lieutenant of Brilliant, and presented himself at the hospital. Ten minutes later an orderly guided him to what was evidently Captain Bradshaw’s room on the first floor. Bradshaw must have had a relapse for he was bedridden and looked feverish. Captain Curtis sat at a table under the window with Gibson on his left. There was an empty chair on his right, which Bradshaw might have filled had he been well enough. For official purposes there were, beyond question, three post-captains present. Richard was invited to take a chair facing the presiding officer. He had barely done so when Curtis asked his opening question:

  “What is a citadel, Mr Delancey?”

  “A fort, sir, with four to six bastions.”

  “Is Gibraltar a citadel, then?”

  “No, sir. It is a fortress.”

  “And what is a ravelin?”

  “A small two-faced work made in the fosse oppo
site the curtain wall.”

  “That is correct. Now, you will have seen a stone-built sentry box projecting from the angle of the ramparts. What is it called?”

  “An echangette, sir; or possibly a guerite.”

  “Just so. You will no doubt have noticed that the Spanish cannon we had facing the Neutral Ground were recently replaced by British ordnance of smaller calibre, the Spanish guns being now mounted in the batteries which face the Bay. Why do you suppose that His Excellency the Governor should have issued orders to that effect?”

  “Our Spanish guns are twenty-six-pounders, sir, and the enemy cannon they were formerly engaging were of the same calibre. Our shot could therefore be used again by the Spanish artillerymen. With the ordnance exchange, the shot fired at the Spanish lines will be useless to the enemy, being of the calibres we use, eighteen and twenty-four-pounders, while our twenty-six-pounder shot, fired at their ships, will never be recovered from the sea. Shot of this calibre, however, fired at our lines flanking the Landport, can easily be taken to Montague’s or Orange’s Bastion and used again against their floating batteries.”

  “Exactly! Now, I realise that you were not here when the sortie was made in November last year. You will have heard of its success, however, and of the destruction which resulted of the enemy’s second parallel. Should we be justified in making such another sortie now?”

  “No, sir. It would do nothing to spoil their main attack which we expect to come by sea. It would also result in heavy casualties on either side; and whereas the enemy could replace his losses we could not replace ours and so would have the worst of the bargain.”

  “Agreed. Captain Gibson?”

  Richard expected a dramatic change in the type of questions asked but Gibson in turn seemed to be every inch a soldier.

  “What is meant by Flanc Rasant?”

  “The fire directed from one bastion so as to pass the face of an adjacent bastion and so enfilade any force which may attempt the assault.”

  “Correct. Captain Curtis reminded you just now of the sortie which took place last year. It was accompanied, though not led, by the governor himself. Was he justified in taking such a risk?”

  “His taking it was perhaps unusual, sir, but I have learnt to avoid comment on the decisions made by so senior an officer.”

  “Eh? … Quite so, quite so. I have no further questions to ask, sir.” Captain Gibson looked somewhat put out and Captain Curtis smiled faintly before walking over to Captain Bradshaw’s bedside.

  “Have you any questions to ask, Captain?” It would seem that Bradshaw had been half asleep but he roused himself with an effort.

  “Question? Question? Yes, I have one question to ask, dammit. When will this confounded noise stop?” A distant rumble of gunfire was heard, lending point to the invalid’s query.

  “When the main assault has failed, sir,” said Richard, “in a week or ten days’ time.”

  It is doubtful whether Bradshaw even heard the reply but Curtis came briskly back to the table, sat down, and looked at Gibson with an inquiring glance. Gibson nodded and Curtis concluded the examination.

  “I am glad to tell you, Mr Delancey, that you have passed and that you have the rank of lieutenant, subject to Admiralty confirmation. I return you your logbooks and testimonial letters, which are all very creditable. You will serve as my aide-de-camp for the time being but will return to the gunboats if and when we have the opportunity to use them. My congratulations, Mr Delancey, and good day to you.” Curtis began writing his letter of recommendation and Richard, saluting, left the room and made his way to the Europa Camp.

  The scene there was one of tremendous activity. Processions of heavily laden men were bringing stores and hammocks from the quayside. Others were manhandling the cannon that had been brought ashore and others again were rigging up tents made from the frigates’ sails. Hot as it was, the seamen were all very cheerful, perhaps because of a break in the monotony of life afloat. They were inclined to skylark when out of the boatswain’s sight but the work was being done and the camp was taking shape. The batteries round the tip of Gibraltar faced west and south and were being hurriedly extended so that additional guns could be mounted. The wardroom had been established on the inland side of the camp and there Richard found Peter Wallis of the Porcupine, tired and thirsty. In answer to a question, Richard said that he had passed.

  “Congratulations, Mr Delancey! I drink your health and later this afternoon, I should warn you, your messmates will expect to do the same.”

  “The wine is on the way—I sent my servant to fetch it—but it won’t be champagne and we shall be lucky if it’s even drinkable. I had a choice between some nameless wine from Malaga which might pass as claret and some cloudy-looking white stuff which had probably gone bad. I chose the red as the better of the two.”

  “You chose wisely. I had some of that white ullage the other day and was sick afterwards. They serve it at the gunners’ mess and it looks and tastes like turpentine. What I would give for just one decent meal!”

  There was nothing memorable about their dinner when it came. Months had passed since the last provision ship had run the blockade and even boats from the African shore were few and small with cargoes absurdly overpriced. Richard wet his commission, though, and was afterwards made to sing a song. His choice was a hymn which normally begins with the words “Ye watchers and ye holy ones” but the words of which were amended as follows:

  Orderly officer ev’ry day

  This is all I ever have to say:

  “Put those lights out! Put those lights out!

  “Put those lights out! Put those lights out!

  “PUT THOSE LIGHTS OUT!”

  Other hymns, it was found, had a vaguely military theme and phrases about “soldiers of Christ” lent themselves to parody. Richard could have been very funny about his examination in siege warfare but decided, very wisely, to keep quiet about it. There were several army guests present and Richard escorted one of them to the camp entrance after the party had broken up. Captain Pritchard of the 58th was a thoughtful young man whose opinion was evidently worth having. Richard asked him when the big assault was to be expected.

  “Not until the enemy fleet arrives from Cadiz. We have that from a deserter who came in the day before yesterday.”

  “Are deserters to be trusted?”

  “We think this one is. He came from Minorca, you see, and was taken prisoner there when the island fell. He was known to some of our men. Besides that, his report seems to make sense. Without their fleet they would be outnumbered, gun for gun, by the batteries they are to engage.”

  “So what is the date to be?”

  “On the 15th, as I should guess. They dare not leave it any later for fear the weather might break. But they have still to roof in the last of their floating batteries, for which I’ll allow ten days. Add a day or two for final preparations and for embarking troops and we find that the 15th is the earliest day as well as the latest.”

  “My hope is that you are right. That will give us time to train our Naval Brigade.”

  “Do you need training? Your seamen are all artillerymen already.”

  “Yes, but our brigadier-general wants them to serve equally well as infantry, ready to attack the enemy if they land.”

  “Does he, egad? You’ll be working hard!”

  This last prediction fell short of the truth. The work was all but killing. The trouble at first was that watching soldiers would jeer and snigger. When these had been ordered away the seamen would laugh at their own mistakes, unable to take the platoon drill seriously. Each exercise presupposed that the enemy had landed, capturing the Europa batteries. It was for the Naval Brigade to counter-attack and recapture the lost ground by coordinated fire and movement. Each day the mock battle ended in confusion, leaving Richard more exhausted than anyone else. One initial difficulty arose from the fact that the seamen, familiar with the boatswain’s pipe, were ignorant of the bugle calls.

  It
was the task, therefore, of Curtis’s A.D.C. to run backwards and forwards, conveying orders, counter-orders, explanations and reproof. The September sun was warm even in the early morning and Richard was tired out long before the final bugle call ended the battle. Added to his physical exhaustion was a sneaking suspicion that the exercise was futile. His own belief was that the great assault would begin and end with an artillery duel. If the defenders won this, the infantry attack would never develop. If they lost it, the fortress would be untenable and the British would be overwhelmed by sheer weight of numbers. If it came to a pitched battle, the allies could throw forty thousand men against a garrison which numbered about seven thousand at most. Such an action should be over within the hour. In numbers of cannon the odds were more nearly even and the guns of the fortress were better placed in more permanent fortifications.

  The Europa batteries were first in action on 9 September when nine of the enemy warships sailed across the bay and bombarded the position as they passed. Then they tacked and fired their other broadsides as they headed back to their anchorage. Standing beside Captain Curtis and Lieutenant-Colonel Fraser of the 58th, Richard observed the effect of the fire and reported what he had seen, shouting to make himself heard. The sound of gunfire from the north and west side of the Rock was now a continuous rumble. Captain Gibson asked his senior officer what the enemy were trying to do. Curtis repeated the question to Lieutenant-Colonel Fraser, deferring to that soldier’s greater knowledge.

  “They are drawing our fire,” Fraser explained patiently. “They have only a rough idea of our effective strength. How many men have we on the sick-list? Can we man all our batteries at the same time? Today they have opened fire from the land, sent in their gunboats along the sea front and engaged us here with their men-of-war. Their fire has been returned at every point; which it would not have been, by the way, if your Naval Brigade had not been formed. They will make their plan accordingly.”

  “So they won’t attack today?”

  “No, sir.”