General Elliot was in nowise shaken from his usual calmness by this tremendous display of force. His garrison at this time (September 1782) numbered about 7500 men, of whom 400 were in hospital. These he distributed so as to guard most efficiently the points at which the enemy’s attack would probably be delivered. The fortifications were carefully examined, and additional works erected wherever they could be of service. Though the Spaniards poured on the garrison an incessant storm of shot and shell, the governor, in order to husband his resources, permitted but little firing in return, except when it was necessary to silence or destroy some particular battery. The troops under his command were few in number, it is true, but they were veterans, inured to war, who had been long accustomed to the effects of artillery, and gradually prepared to meet the supreme ordeal that now awaited them. His subordinates were officers of approved courage, intelligence, and discretion; eminent “for all the accomplishments of their profession,” and enjoying the entire confidence of the men under their orders. And the spirits of all were animated by the ease with which former attacks had been defeated, as well as by the success attending some recent experiments of firing red-hot shot, which, on this occasion, would enable them, they hoped, “to bring their labours to a period, and relieve them from the tedious cruelty of another vexatious blockade.”
In critical circumstances, men, the sagest and coolest, are apt to be influenced by trivial incidents, which they convert into good or evil omens; and such is especially the case when life and liberty are the stakes for which they are about to contend. As the British soldiers, from the summit of their famous Rock, looked out upon the crowd of masts which gathered in the Bay, it was generally reported among them that their arrival was occasioned by the pressure of a British fleet in hot pursuit. Suddenly a loud cheer was raised, and all exclaimed that the British admiral was certainly in their rear, as a flag for a fleet in sight was waving, they said, from the Signal-post. Hope beamed radiant on every countenance; but a revulsion succeeded when the signal suddenly disappeared. The guard at the signal-station afterwards informed them that the supposed flag was really an eagle, which, after several evolutions, had perched for a few minutes on the westernmost pole, and then spread its broad wings to the eastward. Though less superstitious, says the historian gravely, than the ancient Romans, many could not help accepting it as a favourable omen; and the prognostication, happily, was fully justified by the events of the succeeding day.
The grand attack took place on the 13th of September. Shortly after nine in the morning, the ten battering-ships took up their several positions in admirable order: the admiral, in a two-decker, dropping anchor about nine hundred yards off the King’s Bastion, and the others successively falling into their places to the right and left of the flag-ships; the most distant being about 1100 or 1200 yards from the garrison. General Elliot reserved his fire until the first ship anchored, and then began a well-directed cannonade. The enemy occupied about ten minutes in their manœuvres; after which they returned our fire, and the stress of battle waxed fast and furious. The air was darkened by the clouds of smoke which rose from shore and sea, while the rattle of shot and the whirr of shells seemed to silence the very echoes. Four hundred pieces of the heaviest artillery were discharging their murderous missiles simultaneously, until one might have thought that all the thunders of heaven were let loose.
After a few hours’ cannonade, our soldiers found that the battering-ships were fully as formidable as they had been represented. “Our heaviest shells,” says Drinkwater, “often rebounded from their tops, whilst the 32-pound shot seemed incapable of making any visible impression upon their hulls. Frequently we flattered ourselves they were on fire; but no sooner did any smoke appear, than, with admirable intrepidity, men were observed applying water, from their engines within, to those places whence the smoke issued. These circumstances, with the prodigious cannonade which they maintained, gave us reason to imagine that the attack would not be so soon decided as, from our success against their land-batteries, we had fondly expected. Even the artillery themselves, at this period, had their doubts of the effect of the red-hot shot, which began to be used about twelve, but were not general till between one and two o’clock.” The ordnance portable furnaces for heating shot being too few to supply the demands of the artillery when the battle reached its culmination, huge fires of wood were kindled in the corners of the nearest buildings, in which the shot were speedily prepared for use. Our soldiers jocularly termed these supplies “roasted potatoes.”
At first the enemy’s cannon were too much elevated, but about noon they obtained the range, and their firing was powerful, and skilfully directed. The casualties then became numerous, particularly on those batteries north of the King’s Bastion, which
VIEW OF THE GRAND ATTACK UPON GIBRALTAR, SEPTEMBER 13, 1782.
(From a Drawing by Lieutenant Sandby of the 12th Regiment.)