On this day in 1704, Gibraltar was surrendered to the Anglo-Dutch fleet. 321 years later, Eliot Wilson looks at what that means today

As historical conflicts go, the War of the Spanish Succession (1701-14) was self-explanatory in its naming. It began with a dispute over who should follow the last Habsburg King of Spain, the perennially ill and inbred Charles II. But it was a complicated war, with France, the Bourbon claimant Philip V, Bavaria, Cologne, Liège and others facing the Austrian-dominated Holy Roman Empire, Great Britain, the Dutch Republic, Prussia and assorted allies.

The war ended in a series of complex treaties, of Utrecht (ten separate settlements 1713-15), Rastatt (1714) and Baden (1714) and we remember little about it today – or so we think. We know of the Duke of Marlborough, for whom Blenheim Palace was built, and we may recall the names of battles like Ramillies, Malplaquet and Blenheim itself. Britain emerged from the conflict strengthened. But there was one event which still has resonance more than three centuries later.

Gibraltar is captured

Today in 1704, Don Diego de Salinas y Rodríguez, the Spanish governor, surrendered Gibraltar to an Anglo-Dutch fleet. Having celebrated his 55th birthday the day before, the Spanish commander saw his position was hopeless. 1,800 English and Dutch marines had landed on the isthmus north of the Rock on 1 August, under the command of Prince George of Hesse-Darmstadt, an experienced commander of the Holy Roman Empire.

George had demanded the surrender of Gibraltar, but Salinas y Rodríguez had refused. It was bravado: the Spanish commander had, in his own words, “no more than 56 men of whom there were not 30 in service”, and requests for reinforcements and supplies had gone unheeded. At 5.00 am on 3 August, a squadron of 22 ships of the line under Rear Admiral George Byng bombarded the Spanish positions for six hours. By nightfall, the English and Dutch forces were preparing to make a landing.

Undaunted by a still-unexplained explosion in the fort’s powder magazine, hundreds of soldiers and sailors were put ashore with no opposition. With the marines to the north and Byng’s forces now ashore at the south tip of the Rock, Salinas y Rodríguez bowed to the inevitable the next day and surrendered. French subjects were to be taken prisoner, while any Spanish who would swear allegiance to Charles III (the Habsburg claimant to the Spanish crown) could remain, their religion and property guaranteed.

It did not quite work out like that. The soldiers and sailors quickly ran amok and sacked most of the town’s Catholic churches, and it took two days to restore order. After that, on 7 August, almost all of the 4,000 inhabitants left because of their adherence to Philip V, the Bourbon claimant. It is hard to imagine that Prince George, now governor of Gibraltar for Queen Anne, was sorry to see them go, and their departure certainly made matters simpler.