ELIOTT, LORD HEATHFIELD, K.B. A STATUE of Sir George Eliott, Baron Gibraltar and Viscount Heathfield, was erected in the south transept of St. Paul's Cathedral in 1825. It is modelled larger than life in the regimentals of a general officer, and was executed by C. Rossi, R.A. The pedestal is wrought in alto-relievo, representing Victory descending from a castellated rock to crown a warrior on the sea shore with laurel. The style of this statue, both in the attitude of the figure, and the expression of the countenance, is creditable; but the alto-relievo upon the pedestal is singularly bad. It is not inscribed with an epitaph. George Augustus, the son of Sir Gilbert Eliott, was born at Stobbs, in Roxburghshire, during the year 1718, and educated at the University of Leyden. His earliest passion was for a military life he first entered the army as a volunteer in the service of the King of Prussia, and upon his return to Scotland attached himself as a volunteer to the 23d regiment of foot. In 1786, he obtained a commission in the corps of Engineers, and paid considerable attention to the studies which are necessary for success in that department of the service. Six years afterwards his uncle, General Eliott, procured him the adjutancy of the 2d troop of Horse Grenadiers, a regiment in which he passed through the various gradations of rank until he became a Lieutenant-colonel, and was made Aid-de-camp to George the II. It was with this regiment that he first distinguished himself in Germany, and was wounded at the battle of Dettingen. In 1759, he was nominated by the King to raise and discipline the first regiment of Light Horse, which he commanded with so much success on the Continent, that his Majesty allowed them to be surnamed Eliott's, and be honoured with the appellation of Royals. He was gazetted a Lieutenant-general in January 1761, and upon the termination of the war accompanied his regiment to the Havannah. Early in 1775, he received the post of Commander-in-chief of Ireland, but was removed, before the year closed, to be Governor of Gibraltar with this command he was raised to the rank of General, in April 1778, and acquired the highest reputation. : The siege of Gibraltar, by the united forces of Spain and France, is an historical event, signal, glorious, and so proverbially eulogised, that it can hardly be necessary to relate here the circumstances from which it arose, or the many gallant stages in which it proceeded. The place was invested almost at the very beginning of the war, and maintained a superior defence under every emergency; but in 1782, the state of the garrison excited an interest the most intense throughout all Europe. The Spaniards had just reduced Minorca, and came to urge on the siege, confirmed by the spoils of victory, flushed with the gracious promises of an enthusiastic sovereign, and strengthened by allies the most gallant and experienced. Their preparations were vast and extensive beyond all example: no less than 1200 pieces of ordnance, and 83,000 barrels of gunpowder, were provided for the attack: the combined fleets of France and Spain, amounting to fifty ships of the line, hovered around the bay to cover every movement; 12,000 chosen Frenchmen led the operations, and the Count D'Artois and Duke de Bourbon, the one brother, and the other a cousin to the King of France, descended to the fortifications for the express purpose of adding enthusiasm to the cause and magnificence to the scene. The condition in which the Governor was thus placed was imminent in the extreme: such was the scarcity of provisions, that every article was put up to public auction in the marketplace, and the officers, the men, the inhabitants, and even Eliott himself bade for every thing in common, and made their purchases upon terms of perfect equality. But what principally aggravated this distress, was a total ignorance of the particular designs or precise nature of the offence meditated by the besiegers. Day after day the Mediterranean thickened with vessels, while fresh labours continually blockaded the land; loose reports of extraordinary manoeuvres, and vague declarations of newly invented ordnance of irresistible powers, were incessantly wafted to the rock; but not one positive account or definite information could be attained. Such was the embarrassment amidst which Eliott resolved to try the fortune of a cannonade upon some distant works, which to all appearances were nearly finished. He opened a discharge of red-hot balls, carcases, and shells, at day-break, on the 8th of September; and though the effect was for awhile doubtful, yet so regular was the fire, and so admirably directed, that by ten o'clock the great fort Mahon was on fire, and before the evening closed, totally consumed. The following was a day of retaliation a new battery of sixty-four heavy guns, and about sixty mortars began to play upon the garrison with the first light, while a squadron of nine ships, taking advantage of a favourable gale, dropped down the bay, and, as they made a circuit of the bastions, kept up an unremitted fire. The discharge by land was even more intense, but on neither side did the garrison betray weakness; shot was returned for shot, and the day concluded without a grade of advantage to the enemy. These stupendous efforts were daily repeated with a systematic vigour, of which some notion may be formed, when it is stated that the combined army on shore threw 6500 cannon-shot, and 1080 shells, against the rock in every twenty-four hours. The tactics of war were now diversified into multitudinous forms; every operation by land or by sea, which experience could suggest, or ingenuity devise, was resorted to, and it was prophesied aloud, that the British must forthwith surrender confounded, or fall overwhelmed. The boast was bold, but well-founded, and yet the perseverance and intrepidity of the besieged rendered it utterly vain. Nor can that resistance be pronounced less than prodigious, which diverted from complete success, assaults so constant, a weight of fire so astonishing, and manoeuvres the most destructive. Formidable as were the exertions hitherto made, they were far eclipsed by those which took place on the 13th of September -that was, in truth, a day of fiery destruction. At seven o'clock in the morning, one general and consistent cannonade was opened against the rock from every quarter of the works, both from the sea and from the shore. To supply any adequate description of the particulars that ensued were an ambitious task that must fail of its impression. It is easy to state that no relaxation occurred on either side; that the guns flashed, and the |
