With Marlborough to Malplaquet: A Story of the Reign of Queen Anne

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER VI

  THE ROCK OF GIBRALTAR

  "This is better than lying on one's back in hospital, sir, and betterthan dodging about in a close-packed transport."

  The words came from George Fairburn, as with his officer, LieutenantFieldsend, he stood surveying, from its northern vicinity, thefar-famed Rock of Gibraltar. It was the summer of 1704. His doingssince the day of his injuries in the dingle are soon recorded. Aftermonths of sickness and a winter of inaction, his service under LordGalway had come to an end, much to his disgust at first. With others,he had been sent on board a vessel and carried round the coast ofSpain to the neighbourhood of Barcelona, where Sir George Rooke wasoperating. The new troops had arrived too late. The Admiral,despairing of making any impression on the strongly-fortifiedBarcelona, was about to sail for home. On the way the idea had come toSir George that the commanding fortress of Gibraltar would be worthtrying for. He had accordingly landed a number of troops on the narrowisthmus of flat land that joins the rock and town of Gibraltar to themainland.

  "Yes, Fairburn," the lieutenant replied, with a laugh, "my Lord Galwayforetold that you had work cut out for you. Here it is, I fancy, andplenty of it."

  It was a striking sight on which the two friends looked--for thoughthe one was but a private and the other a commissioned officer, yet bythis time Fieldsend and Fairburn had begun their life-long friendship.Away in front of them towered the huge irregular mass called the Rockof Gibraltar, or, more commonly, simply "the Rock," with the littletown clustered at its base and on its gentler slopes. To their rightwas the indentation in the coast known as the Bay of Gibraltar, whichwas protected by a long stone-built jetty, the Old Mole. From thisprotection ran a stout sea defence called the Line Wall, with two orthree strong bastions. This wall ended at another projection, the NewMole. But neither the Line Wall nor the New Mole was visible from thespot where George and his superior stood. Filling all the narrow neckof connecting ground were the allied forces just landed, five thousandof them. Immediately in front stood the only outlet from the city onits north side, the Land Point gate.

  "I wish they would settle the thing, and either let us get to work orelse re-embark for home," George said, as he sat in what shade hecould find to defend himself against the fierce blaze of the sun.

  "I am with you there, Fairburn," the lieutenant agreed, with a yawn.

  The speakers were alluding to the answer that was expected at anymoment from the garrison within. A formal demand had been made to theGovernor for the surrender of the fortress to the Archduke Charles,"the rightful King of Spain." This was on the twenty-first of July,1704. The demand had been made on the part of the Allies by the Princeof Hesse-Darmstadt, who was present with three Dutch admirals andseveral Dutch ships. The English admirals concerned in the siege were,besides Sir George Rooke, the chief of them, Byng, Sir CloudesleyShovel, and Leake. Many famous ships were in the Bay or rode off theRock, including Rooke's own vessel, the _Royal Catherine_, andShovel's still more famous _Barfleur_.

  The day wore to its close, the guards were posted, and the menprepared for rest. Then there came the long-expected answer from theMarquis de Salinas, the Governor of the fortress. It was a stout anddignified refusal. He and his men had sworn allegiance to King Philip,the old fellow said, and in Philip's name he held the town and Rock ofGibraltar, and would continue to hold them as long as he could.

  "That looks like business," cried George, gleefully, to a little groupof his comrades around, and the men smiled at the eager enthusiasm ofthe lad. The orders were passed round that the attack should beginwith daybreak on the following morning, and the soldiers went to roostat once, with easy minds. It was believed that the attack would be buta harmless bit of child's-play, as it was more than suspected that thedefending force within the town was very small, though howridiculously small it really was none of the besiegers at the timeeven guessed.

  "Turn out, mate," cried one of the soldiers, shaking George vigorouslyby the shoulder, and the boy sprang up to find everybody astir.

  "How I do sleep in this hot country!" he yawned, to which the sergeantreplied with a laugh, "It'll be hotter still before long, my lad,never fear."

  It was a long time before the first shot was fired, however, thedisposition of the troops and the guns not being complete. At length amovement was made. The _Dorsetshire_, with Captain Whitaker incommand, was sent to capture a French privateer with twelve guns,which lay at the Old Mole, and the boom of cannon rose in the air.

  Presently, from near the spot where Lieutenant Fieldsend and hislittle company were posted, a shot was fired into the fortifications;then another, and afterwards a third. Work had begun at last.

  A puff, a boom in the distance, and there came screaming through theair a big round shot, striking the ground, ploughing it up, andcovering those near with dust and dirt.

  "Quite near enough, eh, sir?" George observed to his lieutenant, asthey shook the earth from their clothing. "And, by Jove, there'sanother of them!" A second shot flew just overhead, to do its deadlywork on the unfortunate men who stood immediately behind. GeorgeFairburn's first task in the siege was to help to carry to the reartwo or three badly wounded men. On the ground lay a couple who neededno surgeon.

  As yet only a few preliminary shots had been fired into the fortress,but the defenders were evidently quite ready with their reply, and theorder for a general attack rang out. Within a few minutes the fightwas raging in terrible fashion. From land and sea alike the shotpoured into the town; sailor and soldier joining, and often standingside by side. As George afterwards expressed it, "any man set his handto any job there was to do." Sailors were to be seen on land in manyplaces, while not a few soldiers helped with the firing on board theships.

  All that long morning, however, George Fairburn worked at the gun towhich he had been assigned. Black with smoke, powder, dust,perspiration, the lad toiled among his companions. For an hour or twonone of the enemy's shots fell very near the spot. But at length, andalmost suddenly, the balls began to fly in too close proximity to bepleasant. Shot after shot fell within a yard or two of the gun, andnot a few gallant fellows dropped to earth dead or wounded.

  "By Jupiter!" cried the lieutenant, who was assisting, "they have gotour measure at last! I wonder what it is that makes us soconspicuous."

  Then, looking round, he beheld behind them, and not five yardsdistant, a small clump of elder on which some man had tossed theflaming red shirt he had thrown off in the broiling heat.

  "Ah!" Fieldsend ejaculated, "there's the offender."

  He sprang away and whipped the tell-tale garment from its bush. Justas he seized it another shot came, striking the gun in front, entirelydisabling the weapon, and then bounding off. When the men, hastilyscattered by the mishap, looked for the lieutenant, he was observedlying in front of the bush.

  "Dead!" one of the fellows cried.

  "No," answered George, whose keen eyes detected a movement of theofficer's arm, "but he soon will be, if he is left lying there!"Another shot struck the bush, only just missing the body of theprostrate man. In a moment George darted forward towards the place, inspite of the loud warning shouts of his mates.

  He reached the spot, seized Fieldsend by the shoulders, and by mainforce dragged him quickly a dozen yards to the right. It was a heavytask, but the lad was as sturdy a fellow of his years as one mighthave found in a week's march, and his efforts were rewarded with acheer from his comrades.

  While the shouts were still ringing, yet one more shot came, this timestriking the exact spot where the lieutenant had a moment before beenlying, and ploughing up the little elder bush by its roots.

  "As plucky a job as ever I see!" cried the sergeant, running up withthree or four others, and he slapped George on the back with aheartiness that made the lad wince.

  The wounded man was hastily carried off the field.

  "More stunned than hurt," reported the surgeon, "a nasty tap on theleft shoulder; but he'll be all right in a day or so."

&
nbsp; Within half an hour George Fairburn found himself on board the_Dorsetshire_, to assist in the operations against the New Mole. Thesignal had come to Captain Whitaker to proceed against that place, andthe ship was headed for the spot. To the surprise of those on board,they perceived two other ships in advance of them; they were the_Yarmouth_, Captain Hicks, and the _Lennox_, Captain Jumper, a gallantpair. Boats from the two vessels were perceived hastening to theshore. The crews landed, and almost immediately their feet touchedground a dense cloud was seen to fly up into the air, followed by adeafening explosion.

  "A mine!" rose from a hundred throats, as the _Dorsetshire_ menwatched with straining eyes. It was true; two score gallant fellowswere afterwards found lying on the fatal ground.

  With a determined rush the _Dorsetshire_ men fell upon the defenders,and George found himself engaged in a hand-to-hand encounter. It wasall over in a few minutes; the handful of Spaniards could not standagainst so powerful a force, and the New Mole was taken. Hot andexited, the men were carried against Jumper's Bastion, a strong work alittle to the north of the New Mole, and that place, too, was rushedin an incredibly short space of time, and with scarcely any loss worththe naming. From this time George Fairburn kept no count of the longseries of exciting incidents that followed each other, the assaulthaving been carried to the Line Wall that stretched away northwards tothe Old Mole.

  The attack when at its height was a terrible affair. Sixteen Englishships under the immediate command of Byng, and six Dutch men-of-warunder Admiral Vanderdusen, faced the Line Wall, while three moreEnglish vessels were off the New Mole.

  George found himself engaged in a hand-to-handencounter.]

  No place so meagrely manned with defenders as was Gibraltar could longstand such an attack, and at length the two Moles, and the long LineWall between them, were in the hands of the Allies. Of all theattacking party none showed more vigorous and fearless dash than acertain lad of sturdy build, and Hicks himself perceived the fact.

  "Who is that boy in your company?" he enquired of the sergeant.

  "Name Fairburn, sir," was the reply; "all along he's been a hotmember," to which the captain said with a smile, as he turned away,"He most certainly is."

  The next day was a saints' day, and it was strongly suspected, and atlength clearly perceived, that the Spanish sentinels had left theirposts and gone off to mass. It would have been easy to carry the placeat once, but the necessary storming had been done, and the alliedcommanders were only waiting for the besieged to give the signal ofcapitulation. The besiegers, soldiers and sailors, had nothing to dobut chat.

  Presently some of the sailors declared that it would be a prime joketo climb the heights and plant their flag there. The notion was takenup, and presently the temptation grew irresistible to certain of them,and with merry chuckles the fellows prepared for the task, anenterprise that was risky in the extreme.

  "I'm one of you!" cried George Fairburn, as he followed the handful ofsailors to the foot of the steep rock.

  "And I!" chimed in yet another voice, and, to George's astonishment,Lieutenant Fieldsend ran up, his arm in a sling.

  "Better go back, sir," exclaimed the lad, gazing up at the toweringcliff in front of them.

  "Better both on ye go back, I reckon," growled one of the sailors;"this ain't no job for a landsman."

  Nothing heeding this rebuff, the two soldiers followed up the steeprock, George giving a hand at the worst spots to his friend andsuperior. Up, up, the scaling party mounted, the business becomingevery moment more difficult and more full of danger. More than oncethe gallant fellows-in front paused and declared that further progresswas impossible.

  "Oh, go on!" called out George, impatiently, on one of theseoccasions, from below, where he was helping up the lieutenant, "orelse let me come," he added, grumblingly.

  The sailor lads needed no spur, however, and amid growing excitementthe summit of their bit of cliff was perceived not far away. In thedash for the top the active lad passed his fellows in the race,catching up the foremost man, who held the flag. Seizing the staff,George Fairburn assisted in the actual planting of the colours. There,fluttering at the very summit of the Rock, was the English flag, itsunfolding hailed with bursts of cheering, again and again repeated,from the throngs far below.

  The deed was done, and from that day, the twenty-third of July, 1704,according to the old reckoning, the third of August by the new style,the British flag has floated from the Rock of Gibraltar.

  Desperate efforts were made by the garrison to haul down the flag, butthey all failed, and the Governor capitulated. The Prince ofHesse-Darmstadt was for claiming the fortress, but this Rooke wouldnot have, and he promptly declared the Rock to be the possession ofhis august mistress, Queen Anne. Those of the defenders who wereprepared to take the oath of allegiance to Charles III were permittedto remain, the rest for the most part retired to St. Roque.

  The handful of harum-scarum fellows who had scaled the heights andplanted the flag before long found themselves facing the great AdmiralSir George Rooke himself, on his quarter-deck, Lieutenant Fieldsendand George Fairburn being of the party. The admiral said a few wordsof commendation; few as they were, they were a full reward for all theefforts the little band had made. Rooke kept the lieutenant behind fora moment.

  "What do you propose to do now, Mr. Lieutenant?" he inquired, withmuch kindly condescension; "our work is about finished, and we areproceeding home."

  "By you leave, Sir George," the young man replied, with flushed face,"I should like to join his Grace the Duke in the Netherlands, and sowould the lad Fairburn."

  "Good," said the Admiral, approvingly, "we will see what can be donewhen we reach Portsmouth. I have heard something of the boy's doings.He will go far, if he is fortunate."

  Accordingly, when, after a great fight with the French fleet under theformidable Count of Toulouse, off Malaga, a doubtful affair, theEnglish ships reached home, the lieutenant and George at once offeredfor service under the Duke, and were accepted. They sailed away again,for the Netherlands, Fieldsend carrying in his pocket a few words ofrecommendation from Sir George to the commander-in-chief himself.

  The year 1703 had been a sorry year for Marlborough. In the winter hehad lost his son, the Marquis of Blandford, a promising youth, aCambridge student. When the spring operations began, he had foundhimself hampered at every turn by the jealousies and oppositions ofthe Dutch rulers and their commanders. In despair, Marlborough hadmarched up the Rhine and taken Bonn. Meanwhile the French werestriving to reach Vienna, there to attack the Emperor. Returning, theDuke was all eager to attack the great port and stronghold of Antwerp,the capture of which would be a heavy blow to Louis. He had, however,to content himself with seizing Huy, Limburg, and Guilders, a successmore than counterbalanced by the defeat of the Emperor at Hochstaedt,by the French and Bavarians. Disheartened and disgusted, Marlboroughwent home at the end of the summer, and it was only by the strongpersuasion of Lord Godolphin, now at the helm of state, that heretained his command at all. As a set-off against all thesedisappointments, there were two matters for rejoicing. The alliancewith Portugal has already been mentioned; now there came the accessionto the Allies of Savoy, for the Duke of Savoy had quarrelled withLouis.

  With intense interest, Lieutenant Fieldsend and George Fairburn heard,on landing in the Netherlands, of the great victory of Blenheim thathad just been gained by the Allies under Marlborough, against thecombined French and Bavarian forces, commanded by the famous generalsTallard and Marsin, and the two young soldiers hoped to learn more ofthe great fight when they reached the front.

  "What a bit of ill-luck not to have been there in time, sir!" Georgeexclaimed.

  The boy had, during his stay in hospital at Lisbon, communicated withhis parents at home, and, to his delight, had received their consentto his following the profession of a soldier. "It is useless to standin the boy's way," the elder Fairburn had said, "though I could havewished he had taken up almost any other trade." So the lad had nohesitat
ion in thus taking service in the army once more.

  When the two, in company with others, reached head quarters,Lieutenant Fieldsend presented the letter he held from Sir GeorgeRooke, and was received with the utmost pleasantness by the greatDuke.

  "Humph, Mr. Fieldsend," Marlborough began, when he had glanced overthe contents of the short epistle. "You are a lucky young fellow tohave got Sir George's good word. But where is the lad he speaksof--Fairburn, I see?"

  "Just outside, your Grace," was the reply, and at a nod the lieutenantfetched George in.

  The Duke scanned the boy's ruddy face and took note of his sturdyfigure.

  "My lad," he began, "you have begun early. Do you know what requestSir George makes in this note?"

  "No, sir--my Lord Duke," George stammered in reply, his knees almostshaking under him.

  "He recommends you for a commission as ensign," the Duke said quietly,the boy standing almost open-mouthed. "We will give you a short trialfirst, for as yet we don't know you. No doubt we soon shall." And thegreat man smiled.

  He rapped smartly on the table and an aide-de-camp entered the tent,saluting.

  "Here, Mr. Blackett," Marlborough gave the order, "take this lad toyour captain, who will see that he is enrolled in your company."

  The next moment George Fairburn was shaking the other hard by thehand, the astonishment on both sides too great to admit of a wordbetween them.