Excursions in the mountains of Ronda and Granada, with characteristic sketches of the inhabitants of southern Spain, vol. 2/2

by C. Rochfort‏ Scott

CHAPTER II.

DEPARTURE FOR CADIZ—ROAD ROUND THE BAY OF GIBRALTAR—ALGECIRAS—SANDY BAY—GUALMESI—TARIFA—ITS FOUNDATION—ERROR OF MARIANA IN SUPPOSING IT TO BE CARTEIA—BATTLE OF EL SALADO—MISTAKE OF LA MARTINIERE CONCERNING IT—ITINERARY OF ANTONINUS FROM CARTEIA TO GADES VERIFIED—CONTINUATION OF JOURNEY—VENTAS OF TAVILLA AND RETIN—VEJER—CONIL—SPANISH METHOD OF EXTRACTING GOOD FROM EVIL—TUNNY FISHERY—BARROSA—FIELD OF BATTLE—CHICLANA—ROAD TO CADIZ—PUENTE ZUAZO—SAN FERNANDO—TEMPLE OF HERCULES—CASTLE OF SANTI PETRI—ITS IMPORTANCE TO CADIZ.

HOPING that the taste of my readers, like my own, leads them to prefer the motion of a horse to that of a ship, the chance of being robbed to that of being sea-sick, and the savoury smell of an olla to the greasy odour of a steam engine, I purpose in my next excursion to conduct them to Cadiz by the rude pathway practised along the rocky shore of the Straits of Gibraltar, and thence, “inter æstuaria Bætis,” to Seville, instead of proceeding to those places by the more rapid and now generally adopted means of fire and water. From the last named “fair city” we will return homewards by another passage through the mountains of Ronda.

To authorise me—a mere scribbler of notes and journals—to assume the plural we, that gives a Delphic importance to one’s opinions (but under whose shelter I gladly seek to avoid the charge of egotism), I must state that a friend bore me company on this occasion; our two servants, with well stuffed saddle-bags and alforjas, “bringing up the rear.”

Proceeding along the margin of the bay of Gibraltar, leaving successively behind us the ruins of Fort St. Philip, which a few years since gave security to the right flank of the lines drawn across the Isthmus in front of the British fortress; the crumbling tower of Cartagena, or Recadillo, which, during the seven centuries of Moslem sway, served as an atalaya, or beacon, to convey intelligence along the coast between Algeciras and Malaga; and, lastly, the scattered fragments of the yet more ancient city of Carteia, we arrive at the river Guadaranque.

The stream is so deep as to render a ferry-boat necessary. That in use is of a most uncouth kind, and so low waisted that “Almanzor,” who was ever prone to gad amongst the Spanish lady Rosinantes, could not be deterred from showing his gallantry to some that were collected on the opposite side of the river, by leaping “clean out” of the boat before it was half way over. Fortunately, we had passed the deepest part of the stream, so that I escaped with a foot-bath only.

The road keeps close to the shore for about a mile and a half, when it reaches the river Palmones, which is crossed by a similarly ill-contrived ferry. From hence to Algeciras is three miles, the first along the sea-beach, the remainder by a carriage-road, conducted some little distance inland to avoid the various rugged promontories which now begin to indent the coast, and to dash back in angry foam the hitherto gently received caresses of the flowing tide.

The total distance from Gibraltar to Algeciras, following the sea-shore, is nine English miles; but straight across the bay it is barely five.

Algeciras, supposed to be the Tingentera of the ancients, and by some the Julia Traducta of the Romans, received its present name from the Moors—Al chazira, the island. In the days of the Moslem domination, it became a place of great strength and importance; and when the power of the Moors of Spain began to wane, was one of the towns ceded to the Emperor of Fez, to form a kingdom for his son, Abou Melic, in the hope of presenting a barrier that would check the alarming progress of the Christian arms. From that time it became a constant object of contention, and endured many sieges. The most memorable was in 1342-4, during which cannon were first brought into use by its defenders. It, nevertheless, fell to the irresistible Alfonso XI., after a siege of twenty months.

At that period, the town stood on the right bank of the little river Miel (instead of on the left, as at present), where traces of its walls are yet to be seen; but its fortifications having shortly afterwards been razed to the ground by the Moors, the place fell to decay, and the present town was built so late as in 1760. It is unprotected by walls, but is sheltered from attack on the sea-side by a rocky little island, distant 800 yards from the shore. This island is crowned with batteries of heavy ordnance, and has, on more occasions than one, been found an “ugly customer” to deal with. The anchorage is to the north of the island, and directly in front of the town.