O’HARA’S TOWER ON THE SUGAR-LOAF.
extremity of a small platform, and in a situation inaccessible if not invisible from below, a solitary but formidable gun, commanding Catalan Bay and the Neutral Ground. At a short distance is another, but of less calibre. This singular recess is known as the Mediterranean Battery.
So much for the Rock itself. Let us now invite the reader to accompany us on an excursion to Carteia. We pass through the Lower Lines, which to the unmilitary eye appear absolutely impregnable, and enter upon the sandy isthmus of the Neutral Ground. A survey of the works at this point of access to the mainland convinces us that the Spaniards are justified in calling it the Boca del Fuego, or “Mouth of Fire.” The narrow causeway which crosses the artificial morass can be blown away at once by the fortress guns. But even if an enemy overcame this obstacle, he would find himself confronted by a line of strong batteries, stretching from the foot of the Rock to the sea, and at the same time exposed to the cross-fire of three or four rows of guns, placed in tiers along that side of the precipice. As we continue our way along the Neutral Ground, we observe that military science has done its utmost to render it impassable by a hostile force. Willis’s Batteries are planted on a bold crag, half-way up the Rock, so as to be able to sweep the isthmus with a withering fire; and the rugged front of the Rock yawns with fissures,—los diantes de la vieja, or “the old lady’s teeth,”—from each of which frown the black muzzles of heavy guns; while, in addition, the Old Mole, or “Devil’s Tongue,” projects its threatening mass into the sea.
The isthmus is a sandy level, with patches of grass and vegetables, two parallel lines of British and Spanish sentinels, barracks of a squalid character for the Spanish soldiery, and still more squalid hovels for Spanish peasants. Here the ruins of Fort St. Philip remind us of the former existence of Spanish military works of a formidable character. Philip V. erected in 1751 two advanced forts, now heaps of shattered masonry; one called after his tutelar saint, Felipe, the other after Santa Barbara, the patroness of the Spanish artillery. They were so strong, says Ford, that when the French advanced, in the Peninsular War, the modern Spaniards, being unable even to destroy them, called in the aid of our British engineers, under Colonel Harding, by
