with countless thousands of spectators, who had hurried from all parts
of Spain to witness the fall of Gibraltar. The batteries had no sooner
let go their anchors than a tremendous cannonade of hot and cold shot
was opened upon them all along the line; at the same instant the
ponderous vessels replied from all their guns, supported by the fire of
one hundred eighty-six pieces of ordnance from the works on the isthmus.
Never before in the annals of war had a spectacle so magnificently grand
been witnessed--four hundred cannon belched forth their volleys of fire
at the same moment, the whole heaven was obscured by the curling clouds
of smoke which clung around the rugged peaks of the rocks, while the
misty gloom was fitfully illumined by the flashes of a thousand
saucisses and shells. The whole peninsula was overwhelmed with a torrent
of shot.
For two hours this terrible cannonade continued without intermission,
and no impression had been made upon the floating batteries; so well
calculated was their construction to withstand the effects of artillery
that the heaviest shells rebounded from their roofs and the shot struck
harmless on their sides. Upward of two thousand red-hot balls had been
thrown against them, and no symptoms of combustion appeared, except here
and there a feeble flame, which ere it could spread was quenched.
At noon the enemy slackened their fire from the sea for a moment, but
seemingly only for the purpose of amending the direction of their guns,
which had previously been uncertain and too high; the pause was but for
an instant, and the artillery again burst forth with a more powerful and
better-directed fire. Showers of every missile swept over the walls, and
already the British troops, disappointed with the effects of the red-hot
shot, and fatigued with the mid-day sun, began to look gloomily upon the
issue of the fight. But about two o'clock slight wreaths of flame were
observed issuing from the Admiral's ship, and at the same time a strange
confusion was remarked among the men on board the Talla Piedra. On board
this battery was the Chevalier d'Arcon, who was present in the action as
a volunteer to watch the success of his own inventions. Several red-hot
shot had struck this ship, but one alone gave any uneasiness to those on
board; to reach the smouldering woodwork the guns were silenced, and the
smoke clearing away left the vessel exposed to such a concentrated fire
that all efforts to arrest the progress of the flames were in vain. The
blaze rapidly spread, the crew were seized with a panic, and, fearful of
an explosion, turned the water into the powder-magazines. Thus one
battery was rendered useless during the remainder of the action.
In the Admiral's ship the flames were for some hours subdued, and her
guns continued to play upon the walls until nightfall; but the disorder
which was immediately visible in the Talla Piedra and the Pastora soon
affected the whole line of attack, and by 7 P.M. the fire from the
fortress had gained a commanding superiority.
At midnight signals of distress were made from all parts of the bay. The
Admiral's ship was in flames from stem to stern, and others had been set
on fire. The enemy now determined to abandon all the ships, and those
which had hitherto resisted the effects of the red-hot shots were, by
order of the Admiral, set in flames.
As the gray morning dawned, the scene on the waters of the bay was
sublimely terrible; masses of shattered wreck, to which were clinging
the drowning crews, floated over the troubled waves; groans and cries
for help reached even to the walls, or were drowned in the thunders of
the exploding magazines, while the glaring flames of the burning vessels
cast a lurid light over the awful spectacle.
At two o'clock in the morning Brigadier Curtis, who with his squadron of
gunboats lay at the New Mole ready to take advantage of any opportunity
to harass the enemy, pushed out to the westward and with great
expedition formed line upon the flank of the battering-ships. This
sudden movement completely disconcerted the Spaniards, who were engaged
in removing the crews from the vessels, and they fled precipitately,
abandoning the wounded and leaving them to perish in the flames. As
daylight appeared two feluccas, which had not been able before to
escape, were discovered endeavoring to get away, but, a shot from one of
the gunboats killing five of their men, they both surrendered.
Hearing from the prisoners that hundreds of officers and men, some
wounded, still remained on board the batteries and must certainly
perish, Captain Curtis, at the utmost risk of his own life, made the
most heroic efforts to effect their rescue. Careless of danger from the
explosions which every instant scattered showers of _debris_ around him,
he passed from ship to ship and literally dragged from the burning decks
the miserable men who yet remained on board. With the coolest
intrepidity he pushed his pinnace close alongside one of the largest
batteries at the very moment she blew up, covering the sea with
fragments of her wreck. For a time the boat was engulfed amid the
falling ruin, and her escape was miraculous. A huge balk of timber fell
through her flooring, killing the coxswain, wounding others of the crew,
and starting a large hole in her bottom. Through this leak the water
rushed so rapidly that little hope was left of reaching the shore, but,
the sailors' jackets being stuffed into the aperture, the hole was
plugged, and the gallant men got safe to land. By the heroic and humane
exertions of Captain Curtis and his boat's crew three hundred
fifty-seven persons were saved from a horrible death.
While these disasters were occurring in the bay, the land batteries on
the isthmus never for an instant slackened the tremendous fire that had
been commenced on the previous morning; until at daybreak on the 14th
the Spaniards, having become aware of the fate of their comrades on
board the vessels, ordered the cannonade to cease.
Captain Curtis had scarcely completed his service of humanity before
eight of the remaining ships blew up and one only remained unconsumed.
At first it was hoped that she might be saved as a trophy of the
glorious action, but this was afterward found impossible, and she was
set fire to like the rest. The flag of Admiral Moreno remained flying
until his battery was totally destroyed.
Desperate had been the struggle and great was the victory. During the
hottest of the fire General Eliot took his station on the King's
Bastion, exposed to the guns of the two most powerful battering-ships.
Nothing could exceed the coolness and courage of the troops during this
trying day; the steady and incessant fire was never allowed to slacken,
the guns were served, says the governor, "with the deliberate coolness
and precision of school practice, but the exertions of the men were
infinitely superior."
The furnaces for heating the shot were found to be too few, and huge
fires were kindled in convenient corners of the streets. An immense
amount of ammunition was expended on both sides; three hundred twenty of
the enemy's cannon were in play throughout the day, and to these were
opposed only ninety-six guns from the garrison. Upward of eight thousand
shot and seven hundred sixteen barrels of gunpowder were fired away by
the garrison.
When the unparalleled force of the bombardment is considered, the
casualties among the troops were remarkably few: one officer, two
sergeants, and thirteen men only were killed, and five officers and
sixty-three men wounded. The enemy's losses, on the contrary, were very
great; on the floating batteries alone one thousand four hundred
seventy-three men were either killed, wounded, or missing.
By the evening of the 14th the bay was cleared of the shattered wrecks,
and not a vestige of the formidable armament, which the day before had
been the hope and pride of Spain, remained.
The contest was at an end, and the united strength of two ambitious and
powerful nations had been humbled by a straitened garrison of six
thousand effective men. With the destruction of the floating batteries
the siege was virtually concluded.
In Spain the news was received with consternation and despair. The
thousands who on the preceding day crowded upon the neighboring hills,
and with eager anxiety awaited the anticipated victory, returned to
their homes disappointed and chagrined. They had been taught to believe
that the attack would be crushing and invincible; that the batteries
were indestructible; that the fortress must be annihilated by their
overwhelming fire; but instead of these disasters they had seen every
ship destroyed or sunk, with all their guns, and two thousand men of
their crews either killed, wounded, or taken prisoner. In the first
moment of consternation the inventor of those vast machines, upon the
success of which the whole attack depended, could not restrain his
poignant grief and was led into confessions which he afterward
regretted. Writing to the French ambassador, Montmorin, he said: "I have
burned the Temple of Ephesus; everything is lost, and through my fault.
What comforts me under my misfortune is that the honor of the two kings
remains untarnished."
At Madrid the news of the disaster was received with dismay; and the
King, who was at the palace of Ildefonso, listened to the intelligence
in mute despair. The recovery of Gibraltar had been his unswerving aim,
and with this repulse almost his last hope was extinguished. In Paris
the intelligence was no less unexpected and unwelcome; so certain indeed
had the fall of the fortress been considered that a drama illustrative
of the destruction of Gibraltar by the floating batteries was acted
nightly to applauding thousands.
It has been before remarked that the Duc de Crillon never held that
blindly confident opinion of the inventions of D'Arcon which had turned
the heads of the two Bourbon courts. He had always urged the necessity
of a complete attack by sea, in which the whole fleet should engage, and
of which the floating batteries would form an integral part. The French
engineer ridiculed this idea, and affirmed that the ships would be
destroyed before they could inflict any damage upon the walls.
The result of the attack showed how completely D'Arcon was mistaken.
During the day the assistance of the combined fleet was urgently
required; but when its cooperation might have turned the tide of
victory, an adverse wind arose, and the vessels could not beat up within
range of the Rock.
The distinguished part which Captain Curtis had taken in the defence of
the fortress ever since he had joined the command drew from General
Eliot commendations no less merited than sincere. Writing to Lord Howe
on October 15th he says:
"Unknown to Brigadier Curtis, I must entreat your lordship to reflect
upon the unspeakable assistance he has been in the defence of this place
by his advice, and the lead he has taken in every hazardous enterprise.
You know him well, my lord, therefore such conduct on his part is no
more than you expect; but let me beg of you not to leave him unrewarded
for such signal services. You alone can influence his majesty to
consider such an officer for what he has, and what he will in future
deserve wherever employed. If Gibraltar is of the value intimated to me
from office, and to be presumed by the steps adventured to relieve it,
Brigadier Curtis is the man to whom the King will be chiefly indebted
for its security. Believe me, there is nothing affected in this
declaration on my part."
Again, when on his return to England he was created Lord Heathfield, he
expressed his indignation that Curtis only received the honor of
knighthood and a pension of five hundred pounds per annum. "It is a
shame," he said, "that I should be overloaded, and so scanty a pittance
be the lot of him who bore the greatest share of the burthen." Such was
the unaffected modesty of this great man!
When the confusion arising from their disastrous defeat had subsided in
the enemy's camp, a heavy cannonade was again opened from their lines
and advanced works. The firing generally commenced about five or six
o'clock in the morning and continued till noon, then for two hours the
batteries were silent, but again opened till seven o'clock in the
evening, when the mortars took up the fire till daybreak. During the
twenty-four hours six hundred shells and about one thousand shots were
thrown into the garrison.
Notwithstanding the ill-success which had attended the combined attack,
and the signal proof the enemy had received of the impregnable strength
of the fortress, the Spaniards did not entirely despair of eventually
reducing the place by famine, could the arrival of Lord Howe's fleet
with the convoy be prevented.
In August the English Government, being aware of the vast preparations
which had been making in Spain for the siege of Gibraltar, had collected
a fleet of thirty-four sail of the line, six frigates, and three
fire-ships, under command of Admiral Lord Howe, which was to convoy a
flotilla of merchantmen with relief for the garrison.
By September 11th the preparations were completed, and on that day Howe
set sail from Spithead with one hundred eighty-three sail, including the
convoy, under the command of Vice-Admirals Barrington and Milbank, Rear
Admirals Hood and Hughes, and Commodore Hotham.
Hampered by the difficulty of keeping the merchantmen together, and
baffled by contrary winds and violent weather, Howe's passage was
unusually slow and tedious.
The Spanish Government having gained intelligence of the approach of
this powerful force, instantly took measures to attack the expedition
before it could arrive at its destination. For this purpose the combined
fleets of Spain and France which lay in the harbor of Algeciras were
reenforced, and dispositions were made for intercepting the British
ships on their passage through the Straits.
These arrangements had scarcely been completed when, on the evening of
October 10th, a fresh westerly wind sprang up in the bay, and toward
night gradually increased in violence till it blew a hurricane. Soon the
enemy's vessels were in distress, many were dragging their anchors, and
signal-guns were fired for help in rapid succession. Throughout the
night the fury of the storm did not abate, and daybreak disclosed the
havoc among the squadrons at Algeciras; a ship of the line and a frigate
were ashore at Orange Grove, a French liner had suffered great damage to
her masts and rigging, and the St. Michael, of seventy-two guns, was
discovered close in shore off the Orange Bastion in distress. She was
immediately fired at and after having lost four men she was run ashore
on the line-wall, and taken possession of by Captain Curtis. Her
commander, Admiral Don Juan Moreno, and her crew of six hundred fifty
men were landed as prisoners. These misfortunes materially affected the
ulterior movements of the combined fleets. In the mean time Lord Howe
had on the 8th of the month arrived off Cape St. Vincent, and a frigate
was sent on from there to gain information from the consul at Faro of
the enemy's dispositions. Two days afterward she returned with the
intelligence that the combined fleets, consisting of nearly fifty sail,
lay at anchor at Algeciras.
Upon the receipt of this news a council of war was held, and clear and
stringent orders were afterward issued for the guidance of the masters
in charge of the merchantmen, that the convoy might be conducted safely
into the harbor of Gibraltar. On the 11th, the fleet passed through the
Straits in three divisions, the third and centre squadrons in line of
battle ahead, the second squadron in reserve; the Victory led ahead of
the third squadron.
By sunset the van had arrived off Europa Point, and before nightfall
four of the transports had anchored under the guns of the fortress. By
an unpardonable inattention to the orders they had received, the masters
of the other vessels failed to make the bay and were driven away to the
eastward of the Rock. To the astonishment of Howe, who had looked upon
an engagement as inevitable, the Spaniards did not attempt to intercept
the convoy.
During the two following days the British Admiral was engaged in
collecting the transports to the eastward, and preparing for action in
case the Spaniards should attack.
On the 13th the combined fleets, consisting of forty-four ships of the
line, five frigates, and twenty-nine xebec-cutters and brigs, got under
way and stood to the southward, with the apparent intention of bearing
down upon Lord Howe's force. But though the Spanish Admiral had the
weather-gauge, and notwithstanding his fleet was greatly superior in
numbers to the English, he contented himself with the execution of some
harmless manoeuvres, and permitted the whole of the transports to be
conducted safely into Gibraltar under the very muzzles of his guns. The
stores and provisions were immediately landed, and two regiments of
infantry--Twenty-fifth and Twenty-ninth--were disembarked under the
superintendence of Lord Mulgrave.
Having accomplished his mission and relieved the fortress, Lord Howe
prepared to return to England.
On October 19th, taking advantage of an easterly wind, he formed his
fleet in order of battle and sailed through the Straits. At this time
the combined fleets were cruising a few miles north-east of Ceuta, and
in view of Howe's squadron, of which they had the weather-gauge.
The two fleets remained near each other during the night, and on the
following morning, the wind having come round to the northward, the
Spaniards still held the advantage and could have closed for action at
any moment. It was Lord Howe's desire, if possible, to avoid an
engagement in the narrow and dangerous waters of the Straits, and to
entice the enemy to accept battle in the open sea; with this object he
continued on his course to the westward.
At sunset on the 20th the combined fleets, greatly superior to the
English in force and numbers, came up with the rear division, under
Admiral Barrington, and a partial action commenced, but the enemy
remained at such a respectful distance, keeping as near as they could
haul to the wind, that the firing was comparatively harmless on both
sides. The two admirals De Guichen and Cordova led the enemy's van, and
it was apparently their intention to cut off and destroy the rear
division of the British fleet; but though they had the superiority in
force and the advantage of the wind, they could not be induced to close,
and soon after midnight the firing ceased. The next morning the two
fleets were still in sight, but as the Spaniards evinced no disposition
to renew the engagement, Howe, whose orders did not permit him to
provoke the enemy, continued on his homeward voyage.
The successful passage of the British fleet through the Straits, in the
face of the combined forces, was regarded in Madrid as a glorious
victory for the Spanish arms. The despatches of Don Louis de Cordova
described the partial engagement as a complete rout, and Howe was made
to flee with all press of sail from his brave pursuers.
Seizing upon this exaggerated intelligence as a counterpoise to the
recent disastrous news from Gibraltar, the Government extolled the valor
of the navy, and spread ludicrously bombastic accounts of the "glorious
victory" throughout the country. Pamphlets descriptive of the engagement
were published and disseminated, in which the casualties of the English
were put down in numbers imposingly enormous.
Gibraltar having thus been again successfully relieved, the Spanish
government relinquished all hope of securing its possession by force of
arms; but the King still fondly retained some expectation of succeeding
by negotiation. In order to conceal the actual hopelessness of the
enterprise, and "to give a reasonable color to the formal prosecution of
the siege," private instructions were sent to Crillon to continue the
offensive. But the Spanish commander was in truth no less disheartened
than the ministers of his government, and with the exception of daily
attacks by gun- and mortar-boats, seconded by a warm fire from the
isthmus, active operations completely ceased.
On February 2, 1783, the news of the signature of the preliminaries of a
general peace reached the garrison by a flag of truce, and on March 12th
the gates of the fortress, which had been closed for nearly four years,
were once more thrown open.
The announcement of the peace was received with general joy throughout
the garrison, and this feeling was most fully reciprocated by the
disheartened and weary enemy. The two chiefs, who, since they had been
opposed to each other as antagonists in a struggle which riveted the
attention of all Europe, had learned to regret that they were foes, now
met with the cordial embrace of friendship, and no opportunity was lost
which could tend to obliterate the remembrances of former rivalry.
Friendly meetings were interchanged between them, and all memory of
previous antagonism was buried in oblivion.
Being introduced to the officers of the Royal Artillery, through whose
courage and ability his brightest hopes of victory had been destroyed,
Crillon met them with praises of their noble conduct, and remarked that
"he would rather see them there as friends than on their batteries as
enemies, where," he added, "they never spared me."
One day when inspecting the immense lines of fortification on the
northern face of the Rock, all of which had been constructed during the
progress of the siege, lost in astonishment at the magnitude of the
works, he exclaimed, "This is indeed worthy of the Romans!"
Early in April, the Spanish camp having commenced to break up, and the
lines on the isthmus having been dismantled, the Duc de Crillon handed
over his command to the Marquis de Saya, and returned to Madrid.
Thus after a duration of three years seven months and twelve days ended
this memorable siege; a siege which, in the words of Lord North, "was
one of those astonishing instances of British valor, discipline,
military skill, and humanity that no other age or country could produce
an example of." At length the devoted garrison was relieved from a
situation of suffering, peril, and privation almost unparalleled in the
annals of war.
END OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION
A.D. 1782
JOHN ADAMS BENJAMIN FRANKLIN JOHN JAY
HENRY LAURENS JOHN M. LUDLOW
Concerning the momentous consequences of the American
Revolution, not only for America herself but for the whole
world, history has raised no question of doubt. Regarding
its causes and its justification there has been substantial
agreement of both learned and popular opinion in all
progressive countries. But various and often contradictory
are the judgments pronounced upon the course and conduct of
the war itself, even among American writers.
Until recently it has been impossible that either in the
United States or Great Britain a wholly dispassionate view
of the War of Independence should be shared by both critical
students and general readers. In America it has been the
fashion to glorify indiscriminately the actors on the
colonial side and all their achievements. The provincial
note of national heroics has been transmitted from one
generation to another, and the breath of the school children
has been carefully laden with it from tenderest years. On
the English side, the quite natural early resentment against
the lost colonies--mainly confined to official circles and
hereditary interests--may be said to have been later
softened into "a certain condescension," such as Lowell
pointed out in foreigners generally toward America.
But that condescension, like the earlier acrimony, is a
thing of the past. Here, as elsewhere, history is being
rewritten. American self-glorification, as well as wounded
English pride, gives way to better teachings, and the larger
lessons of humanity, which is more than nationality, are
giving to all nations clearer visions of a federated world.