by Roy Adkins
By late December, there was so much rain that it flooded the batteries at Willis’s and even swept away one of the gunners, who broke his leg. Soon after, a cutter arrived after a fierce encounter with a vessel from Ceuta. ‘She proves to be a King’s Cutter, the Speedwell,’ said Mrs Green, ‘commanded by Lieutenant Gibson, from Portsmouth; brings dispatches for the Governor. Does not chuse to mention the exact time she has been from England, and the whole seems to be a profound secret.’ Gibson was the only person wounded as the Speedwell fought off the Spanish ship, and he was brought to the naval hospital the next day. Mrs Green was frustrated by the lack of information, as she normally heard about everything:
all seems to remain a secret, therefore all manner of conjectures are forming as to what the cutter is come out for. It is most certain that it is on business of consequence. We also seem to understand that a frigate came out from England at the same [time]; there has not been one letter for anybody, for not one person on board knew of their destination when they were ordered at a moment’s warning to go to sea from Spithead, and Lieutenant Gibson received positive orders not to open his instructions till he arrived at a certain latitude. This is the only King’s vessel we have had since the Hyaena frigate in April last. There is not a man on board allowed to come on shore or to answer any questions that are asked of them.41
The frigate bringing duplicate dispatches was the Brilliant, which had not been seen. Unknown to Eliott, the British government had, for many months, been pursuing secret negotiations to make peace with Spain and even considered ceding Gibraltar and Minorca, but negotiations were going nowhere and would break down in January 1781.42 One reason why Spain had not started the long-expected bombardment of Gibraltar was that they were hoping for a peace settlement in their favour. As the year progressed, the Spaniards felt more optimistic, buoyed up with the capture of the West Indies convoy, Morocco siding with Spain and the blockade of Gibraltar appearing to be working well.
Christmas Day turned out to be memorable, because, as Horsbrugh related, ‘In the night a brig polacre in 30 days from Liverpool arrived and brings us a cargo consisting of flour, butter, cheese, potatoes, beef, pork, hams, white and red herrings, strong beer and a variety of other well chosen articles, on the account of Messieurs Anderson & Company.’ Mrs Green said that the polacre had ‘no less than 300 casks of flour, which is so much the greater blessing, as it is now openly owned that there is not more than three days flour for the inhabitants in this garrison. This vessel may be placed amongst some of the God Sends that we have experienced since the blockade and has put everybody into spirits.’43
Not everyone was happy. ‘We are now beginning the year 1781,’ wrote one soldier in despair. ‘Heaven grant it may bring about a peace, and relieve us from this languid state of inaction and suspense, by a general humiliation of our enemies!’44 Peace seemed a very remote prospect.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
DARBY’S CONVOY
On the first day of the new year, 1781, many letters were found on board a captured Spanish settee, and in one of them Horsbrugh discovered that ‘They acknowledge to have lost some men every night since they began to advance, besides many wounded ... Other letters mention that bomb ketches and more gun boats were daily expected from Carthagena; that they intend making more mortar batteries and another line of approach.’ Mrs Green saw some of the letters: ‘they gave no material account, mostly seemed private family letters, except a couple ... but those letters were not signed. There were also some beads and a crucifix and other articles belonging to a priest, who had been too much hurried in getting away. These things are all in Captain Leslie’s possession.’1 Overall, the news was not good, suggesting continued efforts by the Spaniards, in spite of the numerous casualties suffered by the working parties.
There was some fleeting optimism, because carpenters started to erect stagings and temporary cranes, leading everyone to suspect that the Speedwell had brought news of an imminent convoy. These wooden structures were being set up well to the south of the New Mole, along the Line Wall and around Rosia and Camp Bays, so as to keep out of range of the new Spanish batteries, but no convoy came. Worse still, the last link with Morocco was severed, because at the end of December around 130 British citizens were expelled from there and handed over to Spain as prisoners-of-war, including the consul Charles Logie and his family. After being held at the Orange Grove, they were now sent to Gibraltar, adding more mouths for the garrison to feed. It was almost a year since Rodney’s convoy, and food stocks were once again perilously low and expensive.
While the poorer civilians and rank-and-file were struggling, the higher-ranking families were still able to purchase enough food, albeit at great cost. On 4 January, Mrs Green noted: ‘Auctions every day. Sometimes the several articles sold pretty well. The English rounds of beef are very good, but are got up to an amazing price, viz. 7 rials per pound, equal to 3 shillings.’ The very next day, a lavish regimental dinner was held, and she heard the details: ‘Colonel Ross gives a dinner to the whole of the officers of the 72nd regiment, supposing himself Colonel of that Regiment. It consisted of a very large number, 43. All ended with great harmony, they sat late. Many people wonder that the Colonel should take a step of this kind till he was quite confirmed in his having got the regiment. He is now in very high spirits and seems to have forgot all past circumstances.’ During his three months of suspension from duty and pay, Ross had maintained a low profile, with Mrs Green mentioning him only once, in October: ‘Colonel Ross was upon Grand Parade at guard mounting this morning for the first time since the court martial. He had his sword on, made several visits afterwards, called upon me in the forenoon; looks well but seems a little agitated.’2
Eliott was obviously keen not to lose Ross, because apart from reducing his sentence, he proposed moving him to the 72nd Regiment to replace the late Colonel Mawhood and therefore resolve the friction between him and Boyd. Two weeks before this dinner, the news that Ross had a different regiment was made public in garrison orders, even though formal ratification from London was needed: ‘There being the strongest reasons to believe that Colonel Ross is appointed Colonel to the 72nd Regiment or Royal Manchester Volunteers, altho’ no official notice has yet been received by the Governor, he is therefore only to do the duty of Colonel in the Garrison and no longer to act Lieutenant Colonel to the 39th Regiment, until further orders.’3
In spite of his terrible relationship with Boyd, Ross had many friends and admirers, including Mrs Upton, whose husband John was a lieutenant in the 72nd. To her, he was ‘a plain, worthy character’, and she published a celebratory poem, starting with a plea for the winds to hasten the arrival of his appointment:
For once, Aeolus, hear a female Muse,
And be propitious—when a Woman sues!
O speed the Fleet from Britain to this Port,
Fill all their Sails, and waft them to this Fort;
They bring for Ross, whose Merits well demand
His Sov’reign’s Mandate for a new Command.
Each Volunteer will glory to obey,
And dare the Foe, when Ross shall lead the Way.4
No news of the promotion came, and eventually Ross had to return to England to sort matters out.
Mrs Upton was not so happy with the English newspapers. Because they reported that Gibraltar had plenty of supplies, she was incensed and complained that what was available was rotten or too expensive:
Four or five small brigs, at different times, got in from Minorca; but how inadequate were their small cargoes to supply so many thousands of people! Besides, what they brought, sold at such an enormous price that few subaltern officers could become purchasers. What ensign or lieutenant could afford to give three pounds twelve shillings for a turkey, two guineas for a pig, half a guinea for a duck, and nine shillings for a very small hen? Eggs were sold for two years past at a real a-piece which is almost sixpence English money; cabbages
eight-pence a-piece ... old dried pease, one shilling and four-pence a pound; flour, a shilling a pound; Irish butter, half a crown a pound; very bad brown sugar, half a crown a pound; candles, that would not burn three-quarters of an hour, six-pence a piece; biscuits full of maggots, a shilling a pound; the worst tea that ever was used, sixteen shillings a pound; soap, one shilling and two-pence a pound; salt, that was more than half dirt and rubbish, eight-pence a pound; goat’s milk, half of which was water, was eight-pence a pint. I have many times paid a shilling for a few herbs to put into my pease soup ... Many people kept pigs in the garrison, but the pork, which was fed on all the filth the place produced, never sold under two shillings a pound.5
One soldier thought there was little overall distress, except with the Jews ‘who superstitiously abstain from all food that is unclean, viz. pork and salt-beef, which they might get now and then. This dressed up [cooked] with dry beans, rice &c. would keep them in spirits, whereas they are dejected.’6 The soldier Walter Gordon worried more about the price of alcohol: ‘Wine was the cheapest article at this time, being sold at six pence a bottle; the beer was at the exorbitant rate of one shilling and six pence a bottle.’ He complained about the treatment of the rank-and-file: ‘They who live in ease and affluence at home can form no idea of the hardships to which a common soldier is exposed in the time of war. But the situation of men reduced to such straits, and exposed to such continual toil and dangers, is beyond the powers of description. Did the rich and affluent only experience a little of the hardships of a siege ... it would teach them to feel for others, it would teach them how inhumane it is to treat a soldier with contempt.’7
Although an unexpectedly large number of vessels were getting into Gibraltar, Drinkwater made the point that this was of little use to those without money: ‘The poor soldiers, and still more the inhabitants, whose finances would not allow them to purchase articles from the Minorquin vessels (the cargoes of which, by the way, were chiefly luxuries) were in intolerable distress.’ One such vessel arrived on 19 February, and in a letter to his brother, Ancell sent him the latest news: ‘This afternoon a brig arrived from Minorca in four days and a half, with flour, wine, sugar, and brandy ... She brings intelligence that the French had blockaded Minorca.’8 The original pact between France and Spain included destroying Britain’s ability to dominate the Mediterranean by taking not just Gibraltar but also Minorca. While Gibraltar had been under siege for a year and a half, French resources had been helping the American colonies fight the British on the other side of the Atlantic. A weak blockade of the harbour of Port Mahon at Minorca was now established by the French navy, which was effectively an extension of the blockade of Gibraltar by cutting off an important source of supplies.
The brig from Minorca also brought a letter for Eliott that had been written on 2 January by Captain Curtis of the 36-gun frigate Brilliant – the warship that the garrison had expected to arrive at the same time as the Speedwell. The son of a farmer from Wiltshire, Roger Curtis was born in 1746 and was by now an experienced naval officer who had served as flag captain under Lord Howe. He explained to Eliott that he had left Portsmouth with dispatches on 11 November and that duplicates were put on board the Speedwell off the Lizard. The passage to Gibraltar was plagued by bad weather, but on reaching the coast of Barbary on 1 December, the wind died down, forcing him to wait until the 20th before he could enter the Straits:
the wind being from the SW, I came into the Gut with the cutter in company. The ensuing night unhappily proved uncommonly rainy, dark, and unfavourable for our purpose; however, the Brilliant having got under Ape’s Hill by midnight with the wind strong from the SW, I had the most flattering hopes of its continuing until daylight, or that it might be sufficiently clear during the night for running in for the Rock ... The cutter had ... my orders not to pay any attention to me, but use his utmost endeavour to get into Gibraltar. We saw him beat off a galley at the time I was embarrassed by the enemy’s ships, and afterwards with a good breeze standing towards the Rock, so that I hope your Excellency has received from him the duplicates entrusted to my care.9
At four in the morning, Curtis said, the wind turned to the north, and before too long he was becalmed,
when being a few miles to the eastward of Ceuta, I found myself very near two Spanish ships of war, with a third at a greater distance from me towards the Rock of Gibraltar. These ships coming up with me by means of a westerly breeze, one of them was within shot of me while I had not a breath of wind, having my oars out, and my boats ahead towing the ship. The Spaniard shortened sail too soon, and the breeze filling my sails ... I presently was out of his reach, though I was forced to cut adrift two of my boats ... Only one of their shot took effect, and that did no material injury. They continued chase till dark and neared me at the approach of night.10
Curtis hoped to have another chance of reaching the Rock the next morning, the 22nd, but the same two warships were spotted, still looking for him, and in the end he was forced to take shelter at Minorca. ‘From the information I have collected here, and from my own experience of the Enemy,’ he added, ‘my return to Gibraltar at present is held impossible.’11 Other small vessels that reached Gibraltar over the next month also reported that French frigates were closely watching Port Mahon, disrupting communication and supplies.
Unusually, supplies in the Spanish camp were abundant, according to the information brought by one Catalan deserter, who, on 8 February, ran from the Mill Battery (St Carlos) across the remaining gardens and into Landport. Horsbrugh was party to the information he brought:
He confirms the report of their being eight large mortars in the Mill Battery, which he says are kept constantly loaded ... The Guard for the battery consists of a captain, subaltern and forty of the Regiment of Catalonia, eight of the Artillery and sixteen assistants and twenty-four voluntarios de Arragon for the trenches. They have had about one hundred men killed and many more wounded in establishing this battery and the lines of approach to it. Provisions were plenty in camp, but the troops very sickly, and great numbers continued to desert into the country. Knows nothing of any new works being intended and at present they are only repairing the old. Reported in camp that three regiments were going to the West Indies.12
Since the new year, work on the Spanish fortifications had been directed towards repairing the constant ravages of the winter weather, with persistent heavy rain and high winds that were waterlogging and eroding the batteries and lines of communications. Huge numbers of mules had to be used to bring in clay to stabilise the embankments. Ominously, the Mill Battery with its mortars appeared to be ready, and the garrison had also observed trials being carried out with a new kind of gunboat – mortar boats, or bomb-boats. Drinkwater watched the first trial:
some experiments were made at Algeziras, from two new Spanish boats, with mortars on board. We had some time before learned that they were preparing such vessels, and that they intended soon to try them against the Garrison. Their construction was upon a plan similar to that of the gun-boats. The mortars were fixed in a solid bed of timber, in the centre of the boat; and the only apparent distinction was that they had long prows, and braced their yards more athwart the boat when they fired.13
Because fewer Spanish working parties were in evidence, firing from the garrison was much reduced, providing a welcome respite from the thunder of the guns. Instead, many more artillery experiments were tried out. Thirteen-inch mortars were set up at sea level on the Old Mole and also, at the other extreme, high up on the Rock Guard battery. One of the trials was described by Horsbrugh: ‘we fired two 13-inch shells from the Rock mortar, the first of which burst in the air and the second, which was intended for the Mill Battery, fell short in the gardens. This mortar ... being placed on the summit of the Rock has a most extensive command [and] can be turned to any point, and easily worked by two men, and is probably the most elevated situation of any mortar in the world.’14
In March 178
1 Ancell summarised the circumstances of everyone creatively applying their minds to slaughtering the enemy:
Art and Ingenuity are with us so perverted from all benevolent exertions that one would be induced to suppose from the destructive nature of our experiments that the ruin of man was the sole purpose of their efforts ... Quadrants, spirit-levels, and instruments of various forms and machinery ... adorn the batteries for the more exact and certain method of killing. Everyone seems anxious to find out the safest, quickest, and surest method of dispatch in the elevation and depression of the ordnance. I suppose in a few weeks more practice, they will be so expert in levelling a gun that should a Spaniard raise his head above the epaulement, it will be immediately severed from his shoulders; for such an emulative spirit has dispersed itself to such a pitch among our artists that almost every day produces some new contrivance for the promotion of slaughter!15
While some were devising new methods of killing, others were giving up altogether, and a spate of desertions into Spain occurred in the first part of 1781, reflecting the anxiety and mood of some of the soldiers. They included a string of Hanoverian deserters, the first one in early January: ‘In the evening one of the marksmen belonging to General La Motte’s Regiment skulked behind the party on the Queen’s Line, from whence he let himself down by a rope and got off before he was missed by the Corporal who commanded the party.’ At the end of the month, Mrs Green commented: ‘2 more men of Hardenbergs deserted last night. This makes four this week.’ Only two days later, two more men deserted from the same regiment.16
Three regiments of Hanoverian troops were based at Gibraltar, and, unlike the British army troops, these regiments were named, not numbered – La Motte’s, Hardenberg’s (which later became Sydow’s) and Reden’s.17 They tended to have a high reputation for discipline and work, though Horsbrugh was lukewarm when they first came to Gibraltar five years earlier: