The Rock of the Lion

by Molly Elliot Seawell

On that September morning, as the sun rose in unclouded glory, every man of the heroic garrison of Gibraltar was at his post; every soldier and sailor in the tremendous array of ships and batteries meant to annihilate the fortress was ready for the assault; and uncounted thousands of persons, both on sea and land, watched and waited to see this terrible and unmatched bombardment.

At seven o'clock three hundred heavy guns on the land side opened fire upon the Rock. Fifty ships of the line and the ten great floating batteries, protected by bomb-proof shields, moved up to within a thousand yards and poured their broadsides upon the fortress.

The garrison had less than a hundred guns to reply with, but these were served with a steadiness and vigor that made them doubly effective. From these guns were thrown red-hot shot, which were frightfully destructive to the ships, but rolled harmlessly off the shields of the formidable floating batteries into the water, from which clouds of steam arose to mingle with the dense smoke that made the fair day dark. The thunder of the guns was indescribable. The solid Rock itself seemed to roar and tremble as it replied to the hurricane of shot and shell that rained upon it. The huge ships fired broadside after broadside, while from the isthmus the batteries were worked by ten thousand men. Soon, all below the summit of the Rock became as black as midnight with the smoke, and it was lighted by the red flames from the guns and the explosion of magazines on land and sea. But high above all, serene in the light of morning, floated the proud standard of England. As Archy Baskerville, from the Alceste's deck, watched the terrible and imposing sight of war in all its majesty, he felt a thrill of pride that those six thousand indomitable men were of the same blood as himself.

All day this hell of fire and fury lasted, and as night came on its horrors were increased by the ships and floating batteries catching fire. By that time the fortress had proved its impregnable nature, and the superiority of its cannonade became manifest. One after another of the ships caught fire from the red-hot shot, and by midnight, in spite of the utmost efforts, the Pastora, Admiral Moreno's flagship, was seen to be blazing from stem to stern. Other of the smaller vessels were in flames, and as the day had been made dark by the smoke, so now the blaze lighted up the whole bay with a frightful glare that was reflected in the lurid heavens, while the Rock itself seemed a mountain on fire.

The hot shot had told with terrible effect on the Spanish fortifications on the land side, and they were blazing in more than fifty places at once. By midnight it had proved equally appalling upon the fleets and floating batteries. Nearly every one of the smaller Spanish vessels was on fire, and distress signals were seen in all parts of the bay. The wind was adverse, and, with the powerful currents, was driving the ships of the line away from the Rock, so they could be of no assistance in saving these smaller vessels, which drifted about helplessly until the fire reached their magazines, and then would be exploded with a concussion that seemed to shake Gibraltar to its base. About two o'clock in the morning the floating batteries, which were the chief hope of the besiegers, were seen to be in disorder. It was then, by the fierce light of battle, that Archy Baskerville, from the Alceste's deck, recognized Captain Curtis, as, in command of a few light gunboats, he put off from the New Mole, and, rapidly forming a line upon the flank of the floating batteries, drove them directly under the guns of the fortress. This was their destruction, and the Spaniards abandoned them so quickly that scores of wounded men were left aboard of them to perish in the flames. Then Archy saw Captain Curtis in a cutter make for the blazing and exploding boats, and with other officers and men drag forth the wounded, who would otherwise have perished in the flames. Archy's heart swelled almost to bursting.

"Oh, that I were there! that I were there!" he almost cried aloud, so overpowering to the heart and the imagination is the sight of heroism.

At one moment the cutter was alongside a gunboat just as the magazine blazed up. The whole vessel seemed to rise in the coppery sky and to break into a million pieces before it descended. No one ever expected to see the cutter and its heroic company again, but when the first horrible shock and crash were over she was seen still afloat.

The dreadful night wore away and the dawn came on. Archy, who thought that he had seen the most terrible sight in the world at the sinking of the Royal George, now realized that there was something more dreadful still. The bay was covered with wreckage, to which drowning men clung. Dead bodies floated everywhere—the smell of powder and of blood was in the murky air. On the land side it was, if anything, worse. Fortifications were destroyed, guns were dismounted, the trenches were encumbered with the dead and dying. It was then, when the full scene of destruction was visible, that the hopelessness of the attack was seen. The preparations that had been months in making had been tried and had failed, and the flag of England still flew steadily over Gibraltar. As if by common consent the tremendous cannonade ceased, and just as the last gun was fired the first pale gleam of the sun shone upon the British ensign, and from the Rock came borne a cry of triumph as the salute was played.

Archy Baskerville, who had watched through the whole day and night, felt a thrill of something strangely like joy at the success of the indomitable garrison. He would have liked to echo that cry of triumph, and it required all of his self-control not to do so; but he remembered that he was on a ship of his allies, and, whatever his heart might feel, he spoke no word that indicated the conflict of emotions within him. The French officers were equally on their guard, but Archy, looking into the faces near him on the Alceste's deck, when that shout was wafted towards them from the invincible fortress, saw that they had no more hope. The fortress that could withstand the assault of the previous twenty-four hours was impregnable.

By common consent there was peace on the day after this frightful bombardment, and on that day Archy was permitted to go ashore, in the effort to communicate with Langton.