“What’s going on, Captain Carr? Why the shooting?”
“Oh nothing, Captain. Nothing of any concern. Just putting the enemy in his place, is all.”
Carravoy peered through an embrasure. There was nothing to be seen and Carr and his Officers returned to their quarters where there was a feast of food, perhaps not in quality, certainly in quantity, but also there were their written orders for the evacuation. Carr broke the seal and read. He finished his mouthful and spoke.
“We’re the rearguard. I want every sand bag, grenade, mortar shell and spare musket you can lay your hands on.”
oOo
The day of the evacuation broke as Spring clear as the previous, but the scene at sea beyond the castle was very different. All not on duty or not held in wait, watched proceedings. The frigate Heliades and their beloved Ipheion were off the castle with two heavy transports in between, but the wind was not helpful; from the East and slightly offshore. Both warships were manoeuvering to bring their guns to cover the beaches. The handy Ipheion had got in place to cover the harbour, and she was now losing all sail, save the bow stay sails that would hold her in, but the heavy Heliades was held up by the wind, too far out and at a bad angle. She could not bring her guns to bear on the vital bay that contained the steps down from the castle; the route of the evacuation. O’Hare and Baines stood at the battlements as the sailors on Baines’ own ship struggled to find the correct set of the sails. Both showed anxious faces; the plan was awry from the start, so both agonized over their next, crucial decision, to start without gun cover, or wait. The boats for the evacuation sat obediently alongside the transports, waiting the signal to move forward. For these small craft, the beam wind blowing along the coast was perfect for a rapid to and fro.
Lieutenant Rushby came breathless out of the stairwell and ran to Baines and O’Hare. He faced O’Hare and saluted.
“Sir. Captain Carr sends his compliments, Sir, but I am to tell you that the French are massing before him. Probably for an attack, Sir. He thinks that they have worked out what we are doing.”
O’Hare did not fail to smile, despite the anxious drama all around him.
“That’s most astute of Captain Carr, Lieutenant, and I am grateful. Now return to your post.”
Baines dropped his telescope.
“I heard. We’ve got to start. We’ve no choice.”
“Agreed. As you choose, Captain.”
Baines looked at O’Hare. Both deadly serious, each knowing that disaster was more likely than possible. Baines nodded to the Midshipman at the next embrasure, ready with a lighted match and he applied it to the tail of a signal rocket. All watched the fuse burn up, and then followed the blue arc of smoke up into the sky to be terminated with a green explosion. Each lowered and moved his gaze to the ships boats as they rowed for position, set their sails and began their short journey.
Meanwhile in their respective bastions Captains Carr and Carravoy were experiencing similar emotions, but for different reasons. Carravoy, at an embrasure, could hear everything but see nothing of what was causing the sounds of a serious conflict beginning, beneath him there was no activity; whilst Carr, also, could only hear. The French guns were still pummelling the bastion he was to defend and he and his men were sheltering back in a dark passageway, to advance any further into the murderous barrage meant certain injury and probable death. He turned to Drake and Rushby.
“We’re damn all use here, until the bombardment stops. Nat, hold your section here, but I want your riflemen. Barnaby, you and your section with me up to the roof, top battlements. Nat, when the French are on the ladders, I’ll come back. This will need careful timing.”
Baines and O’Hare had taken themselves to the rear of the castle, into the main, seaward battery where they could oversee the movement of the evacuation boats. Six boats were closing with the platform that terminated the steps down from the walkway; six was more than enough for one company. Suddenly the water erupted around the leading boat. Her bows shattered, her speed drove her under the water, her crew clinging to the wreckage. O’Hare looked back to the beach and had enough angle to see a whole French field gun battery on the beach, well within range of the platform. Their over eager Officer had fired too soon, a minute later would have wrecked more boats, but luckily for the British, excitement got the better of him. Baines began shouting through a speaking trumpet for the boats to steer for the shelter of the cliff at the back, where they would be out of French sight. The evacuation had halted almost before it had begun.
Major Simmonds, having stationed himself on the roof, the topmost battlements, had seen the field guns arrive and knew immediately their threat, confirmed with their first volley. He looked over to the platform at the base of the steps. No boats and he knew why, but what to do? The castle guns were all out of action and the Heliades was practically stern on. He turned to see Carr and his Light Company emerge from the stairwell and file over to the left to take position above their bastion.
“Captain Carr!”
“Sir.”
“Can your riflemen do anything about those field guns?”
Simmonds pointed out and down through an embrasure that overlooked the beach. Carr ran over and peered through the same.
“Why, yes Sir. Well within range.”
“Then get them over here and commence firing.”
Simmonds watched Carr run the short distance to his men.
“Change of plan, lads, rifles only, over here.”
Carr returned with about 25 of his Command. Each file of three quickly found an embrasure and began rapid fire, talking turns. To see the effect, Simmonds peered through the embrasure used by Pike, Davey and Miles, but it was Miles who found the need to make a comment.
“Don’t worry, Sir. Like shooting fish in a barrel.”
Simmonds looked again, and saw, and grinned. The artillerymen were taking casualties already. He turned to his NCO runner.
“Get a message to Major O’Hare. French artillery under effective fire from rifles. Suggest evacuation recommence. Now run!”
The breathless Corporal reached Major O’Hare and delivered his message. O’Hare was unsure, and Baines shared his apprehension They would not know how much the French fire had been reduced until their boats presented a target, but Baines nodded and raised his speaking trumpet to the boats waiting below.
“Round to the steps. Begin evacuation.”
Their sails were set for the perfect wind and were soon out from behind the cliff. Nothing came for several agonising minutes, then one shot, then another, both missing. The boats reached the platform and Number Three Company began their embarkation, with Captain Heaviside, standing stock still at the side, overseeing the calm transfer and quoting continuously from the Bible. D’Villiers fidgeted nervously at his side.
“Deliver me not over unto the will of mine enemies: for false witnesses are risen up against me. Psalms 27, verse 12.
“I am with thee, and no man shall set on thee to hurt thee. Acts Chapter 18, verse 10. Moresby, blast you, your musket does not go into the water!”
The boats queued and filled, sporadic roundshot, came but missed, poorly aimed by gunners reluctant to show themselves to carefully lay a gun. Number Three was embarked and away. Deakin and Halfway looked back. A shot hit the water yards away, but what held their attention was the noise and the smoke surrounding the castle. The Ipheion was serving her guns at battle speed, at a target unseen. Flashes and explosions everywhere. It looked like the Devil’s Citadel.
“How many more lads is comin’ out of there, Jed.”
“Any more’n us, will be lucky.”
Captain Carravoy strode impatiently up and down his battlement, smacking one gloved fist into the palm of the other. He had set a few men to fire at the field artillery, they were beyond effective musket range, but at least they were in some way active. Gibney patrolled the men, checking all was “full right”, and Ameshurst stood calmly at the bastion entrance. Suddenly shouts came from
the Grenadiers to the left. Carravoy ran to the last embrasure and saw the main French attack cross the causeway, the bombardment still thundering above their heads, a whole battalion strong, followed by another.
“Over here, all of you. Make that column feel your fire. Independent, rapid fire!”
Within a minute, Carravoy’s bastion was wreathed in musket smoke, but not enough, thankfully, to spoil their aim, the East wind blew the smoke clear, giving them a clear view of the attacking column. Carr, from high above, had seen the blue and white legions between the houses and knew there were but minutes before the main attack was launched. He saw the masses lurch forward and shouted, loud, for both left and right to hear.
“Grenades, to hand and ready!”
He knew their six inch fuse would burn for 20 seconds.
“Light.”
He counted 10 seconds.
“Throw and commence.”
The grenades went over and more followed, then fused mortar shells. At that moment grapeshot hit their embrasures, but too far to their right. Ellis reacted.
“Keep out the embrasures, lads, just lob ‘em out and over, but do give ‘em some air.”
Rushby looked at Ellis
“What’s cricket got to do with it, Sergeant?”
“Yes Sir. Gibraltar’s a long time past.”
Carr, meanwhile, was descending to the passageway that led to the threatened bastion. He went immediately to Drake, waiting in the passageway with his section.
“When their cannons stop, Nat, then we go.”
He looked behind.
“Ready lads! I don’t know who invited these Crapauds up to our fine abode, but I believe that we show them what happens to people we don’t welcome!”
The cannonade stopped.
“Follow me!”
The bastion was now but a platform of wrecked guns, broken stones and shattered sandbags, but Carr’s men crossed the space just as the ladders were appearing. Grenades and shells continued to descend from above, their continuous explosions mingled with the screams of those they killed and wounded. Carr’s men ran to the edge and began to fire down, then, with no time to reload they used their butts and bayonets. It lasted but a minute. Drake had been detailed to watch and soon it was obvious that more French were climbing the many scaling ladders than less than half a company could resist. It was retreat back or die there.
“Back, lads, fall back.
Carr heard and shouted to withdraw. Fearnley dragged back a wounded man, and the giant Saunders carried another. They all sprinted to the end of the passage and scrambled over the high sandbag barrier waiting there.
“Reload. Grenades, make ready.”
Seconds passed, then a minute. Loud and urgent French echoed off the dark stones of the narrow passage. Two French grenades came bouncing down the flagstones to explode with a mighty report inside the passage, but they did no harm, the fragments hit the sandbags.
“Send two back. No fuse.”
Two were lit and the rope fuse was allowed to burn almost to the casing when they were thrown, to bounce down the passageway. The noise was the same, but at the French end, then silence.
“En avant, mes enfants! Vive la France!”
White crossbelts, angry faces and high shakoes filled the passageway.
“Fire.”
This was not for the muskets, but for a light cannon, one of two, held ready and loaded. The noise was deafening and the smoke dense, but it’s grapeshot charge couldn’t miss. The second was fired. Then four muskets sent their bullets at the French to join the grenades going over, all then being a hell of noise, smoke and screams. In relays of four, using ready loaded muskets stacked against the wall, Carr’s men sent death and injury amongst the French. Both cannon fired again. It terminated the short fight and no more French came forward. The East wind cleared the passage of smoke. It was a charnel house of dead and dying, two, three deep, white crossbelts now red with blood.
“Reload, boys, and hold. Lieutenant Drake, you have command. I’m going to the Major.
Carr ran back along the passage and emerged onto an open courtyard that narrowed up to the main bastion. As he ran he heard a huge explosion, then another.
“Oh Sweet Jesus! Mortars. The whoresons are using mortars.”
He reached the main bastion and went immediately to Major O’Hare. He didn’t forget to salute.
“Sir. The French have the left hand bastion, Sir, but we are holding them out there. They can’t get through the passage, Sir.”
O’Hare looked at Carr, then at Baines, then back to Carr.
“Thank you Captain. We’ve been short of good news, and that’s welcome. I’m evacuating the Grenadiers, then your Lights. Return to your command.”
Carr did not return to the passageway, instead he went up to the roof, where all was silent. He went anxiously over to his riflemen.
“Why aren’t you firing?”
It was Ellis who answered.
“No point now, Sir. See for yourself.”
Carr looked over and, indeed, saw for himself. The French had fired two houses in the town and the smoke, carried on the wind, was shrouding their cannon. The increased cannonade from their direction told that the guns were again fully manned. Carr looked for Major Simmonds and saw him at the rear, at the battlements that overlooked the sea, but Simmonds saw Carr and ran up to join him as a mortar bomb exploded immediately beneath their battlements. Carr waited neither for Simmonds nor for orders, but called to his men, all now idle, all grenades gone.
“All of you. Into the stairwell. We’re not long for here.”
His men immediately abandoned their positions and disappeared down the stairwell, Simmonds with them. A second mortar bomb exploded on the roof, at the embrasures on the right where the rifles had been. More grapeshot hit the front embrasures. Lieutenant Rushby staggered and fell.
oOo
Captain Carravoy did not feel well. His leg hurt badly, but that was nothing compared to the pain that was splitting his head. The order to withdraw his Grenadiers had come and his men had filed quickly off the bastion. He was the last and just into the passageway when the mortar hit, squarely onto what had been their position moments before. A second earlier and Carravoy would have been blown to pieces, but in the passageway he was hit in the leg by a piece of shell and the blast had blown him off his feet, sending him into the passage wall, rendering him practically senseless. He staggered to the junction with the main passageway and collapsed.
Above him on the roof, Carr, Ellis and Davey were bending over Rushby, the long rent in the back of his tunic all too obviously showing where the fragment had hit.
“Get him off the roof, before the next arrives.”
Each taking an arm, Carr and Ellis dragged the prone figure down into the stairwell. Carr turned Rushby over, but his body was seemed lifeless and his face drained of colour. Carr feared the worst, but he determined not leave him there.
“Ellis. Take charge. Get the men down to the walkway. Hold there.”
Then to Davey.
“With me, let’s get him down.”
Rushby was again hoisted up and carried down the stairs, his lifeless feet bumping over each step. Davey spoke what they both thought.
“I think he’s gone, Sir.”
“Keep going.”
They continued down through the castle, all passages now echoing with the intensifying conflict.
Drake, still at the sandbag barrier and still holding the passage to the bastion, heard running feet behind him. It was O’Hare’s runner.
“Sir. Your orders are to pull back, Sir. To the walkway.”
“Thank you. Inform Major O’Hare that we are on our way.”
The NCO saluted and disappeared into the gloom and smoke.
“Right. We’re going back. Drag these guns along, or the French will use them on us.”
The recoil ropes were quickly released and his men took up the drag ropes and the guns were hauled back, along the pass
ages to the walkway. They halted at the end of a long passageway and trained the guns back down it. Drake looked back down through the gloom, expecting to see the French, then he turned to the sounds of running behind them and saw Ellis and the other Lights out on the walkway and passing the entrance to their passageway, all heading on for the steps.
“Ellis! Where’s Captain Carr?”
“I think he’s still on the roof, Sir.”
At that moment the French from their bastion came to the end of the passage, having followed Drake’s exact route, the only route possible. The first of Drake’s guns roared out.
Deep concern had come again to O’Hare and Baines. The evacuation boats were returning for the second time, but they were coming under fire again from the French field guns on the beach. Baines immediately used the loud hailer to order a halt, the sheets were cast loose and the sails fell slack, then the boats coasted forward and stopped, just out of the French guns effective range. Baines ran to the end of the battery wall, cursing the wind and his own crew at the same time, but before he reached the last embrasure a cannonade roared out that could only be naval. He reached the embrasure and peered through. His crew had launched a boat and towed their ship’s head around, and, at extreme angle back to the stern, the whole broadside of 24 pound guns had been loosed at the French artillery on the beach. The result was plain, despite the smoke. But one gun remained in place, the rest had been blasted back up the beach, by, he surmised, the use of chain shot or bar shot. The single remaining gun had been abandoned. He ran back to overlook the evacuation boats, but they had seen for themselves the demise of their tormentors, and were already moving forward. Soon they were at the landing stage and the Grenadiers were jumping aboard.
Worth Their Colours (105th Foot. The Prince of Wales Own Wessex Regiment.) Page 57