Considering the small number of my countrymen to whom the Spanish language is familiar, I may possibly be accused of having unnecessarily retained many of the proverbs and idioms of the country in their original garb, referring my readers to an English version of them at the foot of each page. But as the caustic, and, in general, quaintly rhymed sayings for which the Andaluz is celebrated cannot but lose much of their Bætic salt on being translated, I am led to hope that such of my readers as do not understand Spanish will pardon the trouble I have thus imposed on them, for the sake of those who do.
In conclusion, I have but to express a hope that the Spanish dish I now offer to the public may not be displeasing to the English taste, though I can hardly expect it should be devoured with the relish of the unsophisticated Sancho; who assigned as one of his principal reasons for resigning his government of Barateria, that he preferred to “hartarse de Gazpachos”[17] than be subjected to a regimen more befitting his exalted situation.
CHAPTER I.
GIBRALTAR—FORBIDDEN GROUND—DERIVATION OF THE NAME—CURIOUS PROVISIONS OF THE TREATY OF UTRECHT—EXTRACTION OF SAINTS WITHOUT A MIRACLE—DEMONIACAL POSSESSIONS—BEAUTY OF THE SCENERY—AGREMENS OF THE GARRISON—ITS IMPORTANCE TO GREAT BRITAIN, BUT IMPOLICY OF MAKING IT A FREE PORT TO ALL NATIONS—LAMENTABLE CHANGES—SKETCH OF THE CHARACTER OF THE MOUNTAINEERS OF RONDA—ENGLISH QUIXOTISM—POLITICAL OPINIONS OF THE DIFFERENT CLASSES IN SPAIN.
BEFORE mounting my impatient steed—not Pegasus, but my faithful Barb “Almanzor,”—the companion of most of my wanderings; the partaker of many of my fastings and perils; and whom—such is the mutability of horse dealing affairs—I saw for the last time curvetting under a monstrous weight of whisker and mustaches in Hyde Park;—I will detain my readers a brief space, to cast a glance at the celebrated place on which we are about to turn our backs.
Let him not take fright, however, at this announcement. It is not my purpose to lead him the round of all the sights contained within the walls of this remarkable fortress; albeit they are well worthy of his notice. Nor shall I, with professional prolixity, point out to his wondering eyes its crested batteries where 700 cannon bid defiance to the enemies of Great Britain; still less expose the arcana of its famed excavated citadel, its interminable galleries, spacious chambers, &c. which must be as cautiously approached by the pen and ink of the discreet traveller, as by the pickaxe and shovel of the wary sapper: a mysterious veil being drawn over them, which it would ill become any of her Majesty’s loyal subjects to remove.
The attempt at concealment is, to be sure, rather absurd; and, as the late Earl of Chatham drily observed, (on being informed that the plans of the Fortress could only be sent to him from the Engineer’s Office, under an escort,) reminded him of the delusion of the ostrich, which, concealing his head in a bush, fancies his whole body is hid from the sight of his pursuers—since, though we carefully lock up our plans of the works in a strong box, others, equally good, may be procured for a shilling any where.
To return to my premised glance at the famed rock, I will say a few words of the unde derivatur of the name it now bears—Gibraltar—which is generally supposed to be a compound of the Arabic words Gibel (Mountain) and Tarik, the name of the Moslem general, who first landed in Spain, and with whom originated the idea of making it a place of arms. For though the mount, under the name of Calpe, held a distinguished place in ancient history, as one of the pillars of Hercules, yet it is difficult to imagine that it was ever thought of as a site for a town; otherwise, the city of Carteia would hardly have been built in its immediate vicinity.
With respect, however, to the origin of its Moorish name, it is but natural to suppose that this remarkable promontory had some distinguishing appellation in the Arabic dialect, before it was seized upon and fortified by Tarik ben Zaide; and if therefore it was called after him, it could only have been as indicative of the spot he had fixed upon for effecting his descent upon the Spanish shore. But this can hardly be the case, since he did not land there, but near where the town of Tarifa now stands (which place he founded and gave his name to); and the rocky peninsula of Gibraltar was only seized upon by Tarik on his subsequently becoming aware of its great natural strength, and the advantages its possession consequently held out, for keeping up the communication with Barbary, and furthering his ulterior projects against Spain.
It seems, on the other hand, much more probable, that the victorious Saracens, arriving at the northern extremity of Africa, and finding how small a space there separated them from Europe, would, whilst eagerly examining the whole line of coast presented to their longing eyes, have naturally given names of their own to the most prominent landmarks observable along it. Now the remarkable head-land that stretched into the sea towards them, its bold outline rendering, to all appearance, the limited space that divided them from their prey yet narrower than it really is,—could not fail to attract their attention; and it may reasonably enough be supposed that its singular form and apparent isolation led to its being designated Gibel-thar—(Gibel—mountain, and thar, or tar—Sp. tajar—Eng. to cut or sever[18])—the severed mountain,—in allusion to its actual separation from the mountainous country behind.