Again, ascending to the northernmost peak of the rocky ridge, what can exceed the beauty of the panoramic view?—a wide expanse of sea, studded with countless vessels of all kinds and nations, but so penned in by distant mountains as to assume the appearance of a vast lake, is spread out beneath you:—its glassy surface reflecting the richly wooded or vine-clad hills of Spain, on one side, the savage and sterile mountains of Barbary on the other. Casting the eye beyond the sandy isthmus which to the north separates the isolated rock from the mountains of Spain, it rests upon successive ranges of sierras, (marked by a most pleasing variety of tints,) that seem to convey you into the very heart of the country; and indeed the view is closed only by the Alpujarra range, which is upwards of a hundred miles distant from the point of view.

Within the Fortress, the hand of man has not neglected to deck out nature, where art could effect improvement. The Red Sands, formerly an unsightly burying ground, have been converted—without disturbing the dust of the tenants of the soil—into public walks and gardens. The rugged tracks, which not long since were dangerous for a horse to travel, have been rendered practicable for carriages, and sheltered from the sun by avenues of trees. The western side of the Rock, which formerly presented a bare and rugged limestone surface, is now clothed with a variety of trees and shrubs, that afford cover to numerous partridges and rabbits, as well as to the aboriginal apes, which have obtained, and not undeservedly, no small share of celebrity; and this belt of verdure, besides being refreshing to the sight, tends probably to lessen the heat of the place and increase its salubrity.

As a place of residence, I know of no town—being a garrison—that possesses so many agrémens. The society is composed of persons of all nations and pursuits, and is varied by the passing visits of numerous strangers, who willingly devote a few days to the examination of the wonders of the celebrated “rock,” and of the beauties of the neighbourhood. The resident English merchants were, in my day, a most hospitable body, whose society afforded a grateful variation to the but too prevalent “our’s” and “your’s” conversation of a mess table. The table, by the way, possesses great attractions to the Bon vivant; offering him the enjoyment of most of the gastronomic luxuries of the world at a very cheap rate, and champagne and claret well iced and free of duty. Finally, to the Sportsman, the neighbourhood affords the pleasures of hunting, fishing, shooting, and horse-racing; and to the studious is presented the resource of an excellent library.

I regret to say, however, that I remained at Gibraltar long enough to witness lamentable changes in many things;—to see the commerce of the place gradually decline, first from the jealousy of the Spanish government at its being made a rendezvous for a worthless and ungrateful gang of refugees; secondly, from various impolitic acts emanating from the Colonial office; and lastly, from an awful visitation of the yellow fever, which swept off a third of its dense population, and, for a time, (Cadiz having about this epoch been also declared a Free port) directed the smuggling trade into another channel.

The value of Gibraltar to Great Britain has been questioned by a recent writer on Spain,[22] who doubts whether it be worth preserving at the cost of a garrison of 4,000 (3,000 at most) troops, and the stones and mortar required for keeping its defences in repair.

“The command of the Mediterranean,” he observes, “belongs to the strongest fleet.” This—albeit a debateable proposition—I will not stop to dispute; since what Gibraltar claims is simply the command of the entrance to the Mediterranean; and that clearly belongs to the power which can most readily keep a force near at hand to prevent all ingress and egress. Now, Gibraltar is so situated as to enable Great Britain to do this, with very small naval means; whereas it would require a fleet of any other nation to watch the Straits, because that power would have also to blockade the port of Gibraltar. This any one at all acquainted with the localities,—the prevailing winds, &c.—will readily admit to be at times an impossibility; and on every occasion that the blockading squadron might be driven from its cruising ground, the command of the Straits would again be possessed by Gibraltar, should its batteries shelter but a few gunboats.

The importance of Gibraltar will increase tenfold in the event of a steam war, as every thing will then depend upon the vicinity of the contending parties to their coal depôts.

But, besides the advantage Gibraltar gives Great Britain, by the command of the entrance of the Mediterranean, it affords a secure port at which her ships can refit, reprovision, &c. without incurring the expense and loss of time attendant on a long voyage to England. And, with respect to the expense of its maintenance, the benefit accruing to the nation at large by the disposal of her manufactured and other produce to an immense amount, far more than counterbalances the cost of the few thousand troops required for its defence, and which troops may also be looked upon as a kind of support to our advanced posts, Malta, Corfu, &c.

To furnish a proof of the value of Gibraltar to Great Britain, as a market, it will be only necessary to state, that of British manufactured cotton goods alone the “barren little rock” takes annually to the value of nearly half a million sterling;—an amount very nearly equal to that which is exported from the mother country to all her North American colonies—whilst the kingdom of Portugal (favouring us in return for benefits conferred) takes of the same articles to the amount only of £800,000; and all the other ports of Spain together, but to the value of £13,000.

Now though the government gains but a trifling increase of revenue by the vast amount of goods exported to Gibraltar, yet the good that is effected by thus keeping our manufacturers at work may certainly be put down as benefiting the country at a cheap rate, when the cost is but of a few thousand troops;—the civil servants, &c., being paid out of the crown revenues of the place itself.