The last and greatest siege began in 1779, when the fortunes of England were at a low ebb in the war of American Independence, and a French and Spanish fleet had sailed with impunity up the English Channel. In spite of despatches from Governors and discussions in Parliament, the defences of Gibraltar were again in a thoroughly neglected state. It is not to the English Ministers or Parliament that we owe our present possession of it, but to the energy and foresight of General Eliott, the Governor at the time. It is true that at the last moment we hurried out more troops and supplies; but when the attack began in June, 1779, the garrison, with no hope of further relief from the sea, was ill fitted to withstand a long siege by the joint forces of France and Spain.
Let us climb up to one of the great galleries begun during 11 the siege and hewn out of the solid limestone rock, with their rows of gun-ports like windows in the face of the precipice. Let us look out through one of these windows and try to imagine 12 the scene in the days of the siege. Here we have a fine view of the country below. The blank space, without houses, which 13 we see is the neutral ground, and beyond it the besiegers’ lines were drawn right across the isthmus. Across this narrow space the guns fired round shot, the enemy attacked and the garrison made sorties. Further away is the town of Linea, and right under our feet is the goal of the attack, the narrow entrance to the fortress itself. But the scenes on the isthmus can never be repeated; long-range artillery has changed the conditions of warfare; the heavy guns on the landward side of the Rock now keep watch and ward over the distant hills.
This was the view of the besieged on the land side; the sea also was closed to them. Our fleets were engaged elsewhere and supplies were cut off by a swarm of hostile cruisers in the Strait. The troops were on half rations from the first, while at the end of a twelvemonth the people were glad to search the Rock for wild roots and weeds. Gibraltar was never nearer to surrender. At the last moment, Rodney, on his way to the West Indies, defeated the Spanish fleet off Cape St. Vincent and brought in a convoy. But he could not stay, and the siege closed in for a second year. Morocco joined Spain, so that the small supplies which had reached the garrison in spite of the blockade were now cut off. To crown all, the food brought from England was mostly salted, and scurvy broke out. To add to the trials of the defence, the enemy now attacked from the sea with small gunboats rowed in close to the shore under cover of darkness. The town was a fair target which they could hardly miss, while they were small and offered no chance in the darkness to the gunners of the garrison. So for the rest of the siege this nightly bombardment went on unchecked, as to reply was mere waste of powder which could ill be spared.