by Roy Adkins
At the outbreak of hostilities, Lieutenant-General George Augustus Eliott was quick to display blunt orders in the Grand Parade (now John Mackintosh Square), directed at the civilians:
All male inhabitants of whatever country or class, who are not willing to take arms, or perform such office as shall be required, in defence of this Fortress, are forthwith to depart with their families ... All inhabitants are to send a return in writing on the first of every month, under cover to the Secretary, specifying their number in each family, and stock of provisions laid in ... Any inhabitant of, or dependant upon this Garrison who is suspected of acting contrary to this order, will be proceeded against by Military Law.16
In a letter sent to London, Eliott revealed his distrust of the population, saying that Gibraltar was ‘now filled with a number of inhabitants to the amount of about three thousand six hundred, of all countries, and all religions, amongst which many [are] of suspicious character’. Martial law was now declared, and anyone communicating with the enemy was to be treated as a spy.17
One of the first tasks was to put some of the inhabitants to work levelling the isthmus close to the Rock, as Captain Rice Price of the 56th Regiment described: ‘This morning at five o’clock two hundred Jews and Genoese sent under the inspection of the Engineers to level the hedges and ditches with the tumps of sand on the neutral ground to prevent the enemy’s concealed approaches and to allow the fairer range to our cannon.’18 The men were required to do any work that was needed, and as far as Eliott was concerned, those refusing to take part would be turned out. The military garrison took precedence over all else.
On Eliott’s appointment as governor of Gibraltar three years earlier, Lieutenant-Governor Robert Boyd had sent him a letter of congratulation: ‘After the loss of my friend Cornwallis, with whom I have lived in the most perfect agreement, I am happy to find that his successor is my very old acquaintance.’19 Some two decades earlier Boyd was serving on Minorca with Lieutenant-General Edward Cornwallis until, in 1756, the island fell to the French. Cornwallis was on leave in England at the time, but returned to Minorca with Admiral Byng’s fleet and was one of those who advised the ill-fated admiral to give up and sail away. At that very moment, Boyd had been making a heroic but unsuccessful effort to row to the fleet in a small boat with a message from the garrison commander. He subsequently fought in the German campaign, including the famous Battle of Minden against the French on 1 August 1759, during which he encountered Eliott.
In 1766, Boyd became the colonel of the 39th Regiment, and two years later, at the age of fifty-eight, he took up the post of second-in-command to Cornwallis, who was then the governor of Gibraltar. The following year, in 1769, Boyd’s own regiment, the 39th, was also posted to Gibraltar.20 In decades past, regiments carried the name of their colonel, but this had been replaced by a system of numbering regiments. A colonel was the head or proprietor of his regiment, responsible for the men’s clothing and for dealing with contractors and government departments to supply everything the regiment needed. These matters were usually organised through an agent, offering opportunities for making money.
Captain James Horsbrugh, from Cupar in Scotland, was one of Boyd’s officers. Born in about 1730, he had joined the 39th in 1755, initially serving in India as an ensign. He married Margaret (‘Peggy’) Bell in 1762, and she accompanied him to Gibraltar when the regiment was posted there. In all, his wife would give birth to four children – Madge, Betsy (who died in 1774) and another daughter named after Boyd’s wife Arabella, as well as a son who was given the name Boyd, such were the close ties that developed between the Horsbrughs and the Boyds.21
There were no cavalry regiments in the Gibraltar garrison, so the lowest level of commissioned officer was the ensign or second lieutenant, from which an officer would hope to work his way up to become a lieutenant, then a captain, a major and finally a lieutenant-colonel. It was the lieutenant-colonel who normally commanded a regiment in the field. Under Governor Cornwallis, Horsbrugh had taken on the role of town-major and also aide-de-camp to Boyd, and by the end of 1770 he was appointed to the rank of captain.22 The highly stratified social order in Britain drew a sharp distinction between the common soldiers, who had a dubious reputation, and the higher-class officers, who were regarded as gentlemen and mostly bought their commissions, except for the artillery and engineer officers who had technical training and were appointed on merit. All other officers were untrained, relying on their social class to command respect and buying subsequent promotions within their regiment. Below the lowest rank of commissioned officers were the non-commissioned officers, who did not buy their ranks but were appointed. At the top was the sergeant major, then the quartermaster sergeant, sergeant, corporal and drummer. At the very bottom of the hierarchy was the mass of private soldiers – the rank-and-file or common soldiers.
From 1773, Colonel Boyd was in sole command as acting governor of Gibraltar, because Cornwallis was absent, too ill ever to return, and that same year Charles Ross from north-east Scotland purchased the lieutenant-colonelcy of the 39th Regiment. About twenty years younger than Boyd and unmarried, he had been unemployed for several years, and his arrival at Gibraltar established a highly unusual and stressful situation in which the colonel and lieutenant-colonel of the same regiment were serving in the same location.23 Having served as acting governor for some years, Boyd may have expected promotion when Cornwallis died and so was probably disappointed that Eliott was chosen. Instead, he and Arabella decided to apply for a period of leave, but they had to wait more than a year for Eliott to arrive. Finally, at the end of May 1777, Horsbrugh wrote to his wife Peggy in Scotland to say that the new governor had at last come to Gibraltar:
General Eliott arrived here on Sunday last, he has received me as well as I could wish, and insists on my continuing to live at the Convent [the governor’s official residence]. The character he bears of being a remarkable strict Commanding Officer has put us on our mettle; nothing however has as yet appeared to confirm this. On the contrary he seems much pleased with us, but I know for a certainty that great alterations are intended, which I am afraid will fall heavy on my shoulders. He appears polite and affable to all while at same time he expects a very particular attention from those immediately under him that will require a constant attendance, which however irksome such a confinement will be, I am determined to conform myself to it, and give up every little amusement with the view of making myself useful to him.24
Peggy had returned to Scotland after ending up in a wretched state of health the previous year. Having given birth to Arabella in February 1776, she then nearly lost the other two children in a scarlet fever epidemic. A few weeks later, towards the end of May, Horsbrugh had accompanied her back to Britain, ostensibly for the sake of the children’s education, but in reality because she could no longer cope and dreaded the prospect of another summer in Gibraltar.25 He returned to Gibraltar alone, though the few surviving letters show his absolute love and anxiety for Peggy and the children, mingled with financial worries now that he had a household in Scotland to maintain. Horsbrugh longed for her to return, though once the siege started in 1779, his emotions must have changed to immense relief that his family was already safe. He need not have worried about Eliott’s opinion of him, because he rated Horsbrugh highly, and instead of his role as town-major, he appointed him adjutant-general and would later describe him as ‘so perfectly intelligent ... a very good soldier ... He has no riches but his integrity.’26
One of Eliott’s first orders of the siege was that anyone staying in Gibraltar should have sufficient provisions to last six months, so that they could withstand the blockade. Many inhabitants were compelled to leave, because they were too poor to lay in such a quantity of stores. Gibraltar was not self-sufficient. Market gardens and vineyards supplied some of their needs, various animals were raised, and the seas all round teemed with fish, as did the inundation, but most provisions were imported by sea. The strat
egic military aim of Spain was therefore simple – to starve the garrison into an early capitulation by establishing a blockade to prevent food and other supplies reaching Gibraltar. Only a week after the siege was announced, Captain Price commented: ‘Fairly blockaded by sea and land. The Enemy have two ships of the line in the Bay, three frigates and as many xebeques. These they have ranged along the opposite coast at due distances to intercept all supplies to the Garrison. I hope to live to see these ships on fire yet, if the old English spirit for enterprise still subsists.’27
Fifty-eight-year-old Vice-Admiral Robert Duff from Fife in Scotland had only three warships at his disposal – his flagship HMS Panther (a 60-gun battleship), HMS Enterprise (a 28-gun frigate) and HMS Childers (a 14-gun sloop). Before his appointment to the Mediterranean, he had been commander-in-chief at Newfoundland, after a long naval career. When his wife Helen accompanied him to Gibraltar the previous year, three of their children came with them – Jean then aged thirteen, Robert aged eleven and Adam aged three. Only a few months later, in September 1778, tragedy struck when Helen died. They had been married fourteen years, and being widowed may well have affected his outlook, exacerbated by ill health, which was attributed to gout.28
Duff’s warships were supplemented by several privateers – these were ships and occasionally smaller boats that were privately owned and fitted out, operating as warships under licence from the government. Their main aim was to capture enemy shipping and those cargoes carried by neutral vessels intended to benefit the enemy, in return for a reward (‘prize-money’). Often dubbed ‘legalised pirates’, privateers would prove especially useful for supplying the besieged fortress with cargoes of food and drink. In early July, Mrs Green noted the arrival of three new privateers: ‘3 fine cutters came in from England fitted out as privateers to take either French or Americans. They were stout vessels indeed.’ Built at the port of Dover in Kent, they were capable of carrying sixteen to twenty guns each and soon made their presence felt, with Horsbrugh recording in his diary less than a week later: ‘the cutters sent in a Dutch vessel loaded with wine for Cadiz, and a Spanish prize.’29
That same day, 11 July 1779, the Childers sloop was sent out into the Mediterranean to look for similar prizes, which provoked the very first shot of the siege. Drinkwater described how it came to be fired from Fort St Barbara: ‘Admiral Duff having intelligence that a large fleet of small vessels was to sail from Malaga, with wine and provisions for the Spanish grand fleet, ordered the Childers, on the 11th, to cruise to the eastward, and give information, by signal, when they appeared, with the strength of their convoy. Whilst she was on the look-out, her boat gave chase to a settee, and was fired at from Fort St. Barbara, which was the first hostile shot from the enemy.’30
Later in the day, a substantial Spanish convoy of about thirty polacres, settees, feluccas and other vessels appeared from the east, escorted by a fairly weak naval squadron of five xebecs. These were all traditional Mediterranean craft that the Spaniards frequently used. Onlookers assumed that Duff would send out the two larger warships to try to take further prizes, but when he failed to act immediately Mrs Green was one of those who felt great disappointment at this lost opportunity: ‘It was now eagerly wished, and expected, that the Admiral [in the Panther] and the only frigate viz. the Enterprize, Sir Thomas Rich, would hasten out, as it was pretty certain this was a fleet intended for Algezira. At last Admiral Duff did make a signal. The Enterprize got ready, as soon as possible, but it was 5 o’clock before the Admiral got out. It was by [then] much too late! and the fleet got through that night. This occasioned great discontent.’31
Captain Thomas Paterson of the Royal Artillery took a more generous view, saying that Duff had waited until the Spanish convoy came close to the Rock, in case they fled south towards Ceuta, which is exactly what did happen when the Panther and Enterprise showed signs of sailing.32 The motley assemblage of British warships and privateers made chase and returned the next morning with a few more prizes. Duff ensured that his official report portrayed this operation in the best possible light: ‘The prizes are all laden with useful articles for this garrison, their cargoes consisting chiefly of wines, brandies, and some small quantities of bread, and other like provisions; of which commodities are also the cargoes of eight other Spanish prizes taken by his Majesty’s vessels and the privateers from this place.’ Prisoners-of-war were also captured, but they were returned to Spain straightaway, as Horsbrugh described: ‘Most of the Spaniards belonging to the vessels we had taken were sent round in boats from the New Mole, landed opposite the gardens on the neutral ground and permitted to pass into Spain.’33
The sixty-two-year-old Spanish Admiral Don Antonio Barcelo, famous for his campaigns against Algerian pirates, was now in command of the blockade, and more ships soon arrived to enlarge his fleet, as Lieutenant Holloway recorded in mid-July: ‘A Spanish squadron came into the Bay, and anchored off Algeziras between 1 and 2 o’clock. It consisted of 1 ship of 70 guns, 1 of 60, two large frigates, 3 xebeques and several small armed vessels.’34 It was crucial to keep on good terms with Morocco, which supplied so many provisions, and Charles Logie, the British consul at Tangier, was a valuable intermediary who kept Gibraltar informed of any news and forwarded newspapers and letters. He managed to slip through the blockade in a Moorish galley to try to persuade Admiral Duff to assist with the repair of a ship belonging to the Emperor. On his return, Logie’s vessel was stopped and searched for several hours by one of Barcelo’s squadron, as Mrs Green heard: ‘It was ... reported that Mr Logie was taken in going over (but it was not true as we heard afterwards). The vessel was certainly boarded by the Spaniards, and he was in the dress of a Moor, not only so but hid himself under some sails, and by that means escaped. Otherwise he would most likely have been taken either to Ceuta or to Algezira.’35 Algeciras, across the bay from Gibraltar, was being used as the local base for Barcelo’s squadron that was blockading the Rock. It was a small port that was protected by a fort on an island just offshore, called Green Island or Isla Verde, with its Arabic name of el Gezira el-Khadra having been corrupted to Algeciras.
With the increased blockade, it did not take long for shortages to be noticed, and despite friendly relations with Morocco, supplies were becoming less frequent. Mrs Green observed that ‘the whole Garrison seems displeased and uneasy. Not any vessels of late has come from Barbary [Morocco], and our livestock is but little.’36 In order to conserve flour for bread, Drinkwater remarked, one of Eliott’s initial orders was for troops to ‘mount guard with their hair unpowdered; a circumstance trifling in appearance, but which our situation afterwards proved to be of great importance’.37 This was a significant cultural shift, because it was customary for soldiers to have shoulder-length hair, which was scraped back and plaited at the neck into a queue that was tied with leather strips, greased and covered in hair powder – usually flour. This time-consuming and pointless task would often fall to the soldiers’ wives.
Towards the end of July, restrictions were imposed on the keeping of animals. ‘Orders issued by the Governor,’ said Price,
that no horses or mules are to remain in the Garrison after Saturday next whose owners have not one thousand weight of straw or other forage in proportion for them, except those belonging to the staff or to Field Officers. I gave my old English horse away sooner than shoot him, and some very good horses [of] Captain Tuite’s of the 39th in particular sold for fifteen reals Gibraltar currency (about five shillings and eight pence sterling). All dogs wandering about the street ordered to be killed. NB no animals who can eat (except ourselves) privileged.38
Although there was no cavalry, most officers owned horses, and as a cavalryman it would have been unpalatable for Eliott to take such measures, but he needed to reduce the number of useless mouths and ensure that the horses and mules did not starve. In order to lead by example, he had one of his own horses shot. He himself was known to favour cats, and cartoons were produced of him w
ith cats, including one caricature years later ‘surrounded by cats gambolling and playing many antics, to the great delight of the General’.39 Cats escaped his cull, and they did have their uses in keeping down the numbers of rodents.
At the same time, he allowed several native-born Spanish inhabitants to leave through the Landport Gate and cross the isthmus into Spain. ‘The Spaniards by some means,’ Price said, ‘have caused it to be signified to those inhabitants of the Garrison who are natural born subjects of Spain that they will allow them a free passage through the Lines until Sunday next, in case they choose to remove with their families and effects. In consequence of this, several have removed, terrified at the thoughts of a siege.’ Another soldier heard that the Spanish sentries at the Lines refused to let any of them pass until they had served a period of quarantine: ‘The Spaniards keep them under quarantine on the isthmus, six, eight, and ten days, and supply each person with a loaf daily.’ It was actually a fortnight before they were allowed to pass into Spain.40
Before too long, many more inhabitants left for other destinations. As Drinkwater said, they were ‘apprehensive that the garrison would be besieged, [and] thought ... to seek an asylum in time. Indeed about this time scarcely a boat or vessel left the port without being crowded with Jews or Genoese, who preferred a residence in Barbary, or Portugal, to remaining in Gibraltar, where the necessaries of life became every day more scarce.’41 Many others went to England. Not all those who remained were enthusiastic about undertaking the labouring duties required of them. Price heard that ‘Some refractory Jews for refusing to work [were] turned out at Land Port by the Governor but readmitted on submission.’ Less than a week later, Genoese inhabitants were rounded up after attending a service at the church (now the cathedral) of St Mary the Crowned in Main Street, usually referred to as the Spanish church because it was Roman Catholic: ‘The Spanish church [was] surrounded by parties from the Main Guard, and several refractory Genoese who, under pretence of a Saint’s day had refused to work in levelling the sands outside Land Port, [were] nabbed in coming out of church and compelled to work. A pretty set of fair weather sparks truly who, when the skies look lowering and dangers encompass us around, sneaks off and shrink from the storm.’ They may have been reluctant workers, but there was no doubt of the loyalty of the Jews who, remembering their past persecution by Spain, dreaded Gibraltar being captured and were now ‘fasting and praying in their synagogues for the success of his Majesty’s arms the whole night long’.42