Towards evening we began to descend rapidly; and after winding among some narrow rocky defiles, we came suddenly upon the sea. For some hours before, I had noticed very elevated mountains towards the south-east, rising above the lower hills that lay around; these, before reaching the sea, had seemed to be close at hand, and I was much puzzled to understand what mountains they could be, since I knew we were fast approaching the coast. It had never occurred to me that we had all day been travelling towards the Streights; and the sudden opening from which the sea burst upon me, explained my difficulty. These were the mountains of Africa; and the coast of Morocco rose boldly before me at the distance of a few leagues. It was impossible to look upon the coast of Africa for the first time, without peculiar emotions. Africa, its untrodden solitudes, and mighty and unknown rivers: its swarthy kings and savage people: its wonders and its wrongs. The mind travelled backward to Egypt and her glories—to Carthage and her dominion—to the Moors, their past conquests, and present debasement; and the eye, looking beyond the barrier of mountains that seemed guarding a fabled land, wandered over the desert of Zahara, and the reedy rivers; and descried the solitary white man walking by their banks,—seeking glory, and finding a grave!
Soon after reaching the sea-shore, it became dusk, and in place of being now at our journey’s end, we were yet some leagues distant from it. I have seldom looked upon a wilder or more desolate scene, than that which lay around. Between us and the sea, was a succession of dry sand hills—on the left, vast fragments of rock were scattered below the cliffs, that rose in dark and rugged outline above, crowned by the ruins of a Moorish watch-tower;—and the roar of the sea, and the deepening dusk, and the place, and the solitude, and the helplessness of a traveller, all conspired to fix the scene deeply in my memory. It soon became entirely dark, excepting the light of the stars; but in such places, darkness scarcely adds to the insecurity of the traveller, because it conceals him. Almost all the robberies that take place, are at dusk; or sometimes, in broad day; and, unless one has been seen to set out upon a journey towards evening, darkness may be considered a defence. But in this journey, there were other dangers than robbery, to be apprehended; the road was intersected here and there, by arms of the sea, which, but for the reflection of the stars in the water, I must frequently have plunged into. Sometimes a shallow was found; and sometimes, by making a circuit, a bridge was discovered, but of the frailest and most dangerous kind. Once, following the young man who had joined company with us, and whose white jacket was a convenient guide, I found myself, before I was aware, upon a bridge not a yard in width; without parapet, and, in many places, loose beneath. The bridge was long, and a broad arm of the sea was beneath: it was impossible to dismount, and I could only trust to my horse, which, fortunately, was both sure-footed and bold.
Shortly after this, a circumstance occurred, which gave rise to strong, and very natural suspicions of the young man who accompanied us: he was, at this time, about twenty yards in advance; and I was surprised by hearing a loud whistle. I immediately pushed forward and seized his arm, and asked why he whistled—but not before he had found time to whistle a second time. He said his mother lived there, pointing to a little height close to the sea, upon which something like a house, or a tower, could be discerned. This seemed very like a fiction; I have little doubt that the place he pointed to was a rendezvous of contrabandisters, with whom he was connected, and these are often the worst robbers. What might be the meaning of the signal, I was unable to tell, but I resolved to watch him.
I thought this journey was to have no end—there was still no appearance of Tariffa—and, when I supposed we must be close to the gate, the guide stopped at a lone house close to the sea; and, telling us we were yet a league distant from the town, said, I might find accommodation in this house: but this I refused, and insisted upon going on; and at length I was rewarded by the welcome sight of lights; and in a few minutes we were among the straggling houses that lie outside of the town. The gates of the town were shut; and the guard told me, that no one could enter without permission from the governor. Leaving the horses standing, I approached under an escort; and a soldier upon the top of the wall, asked our business. I replied, that an English gentleman, travelling with a regular passport, requested permission to enter the town; but, after waiting a full half-hour, the permission was refused, and I was obliged, in consequence, to go to a most miserable venta beyond the gates. There was, perhaps, some excuse for this strictness. Tariffa is at all times a sort of prison, where convicted persons are kept at large; and the knowledge that there were, at that time, some refugees in Gibraltar, and that an attempt had been all but made upon Algesiras, was sufficient to justify a refusal to do what is at all times a matter of special favour.
At the wretched venta to which the guide conducted me, nothing could be had to eat, excepting a little cold fish, which had been stewed with oil and garlick. I need scarcely say, there were no knives or forks; these are luxuries rarely to be met with in a Spanish venta. Every Spaniard is provided with his own clasp knife; and as for forks, they can be dispensed with: a traveller in Spain will therefore do well to provide himself with these necessaries. There is one comfort, however, that can, with few exceptions, be always had, even in the worst venta,—good wine; very different, both in flavour and strength, from the wretched beverage generally set before one in the French auberge. And this was the only comfort to be got at the venta at Tariffa; for sleep was out of the question, in a bed that had long been in the undisturbed possession of other living creatures. Next morning, the mistress of the house demanded two dollars for her accommodations. When a charge is exorbitant in Spain, less will always be accepted; and one dollar seemed to me quite sufficient payment for a bottle of wine that probably cost a real, and a bed that was already occupied.
Next morning about sunrise, I gladly mounted my horse; and without entering Tariffa we skirted the walls, and struck into the road to Algesiras. This is one of the most charming rides I have seen in any part of Spain: it is a mountain road, abounding in the finest mountain prospects; sometimes climbing to a great elevation, and sometimes descending into deep valleys, and now and then disclosing magnificent views over the sea. The coast of great part of Andalusia and of Granada, is of a curious configuration: an infinite succession of conical hills, rising one above another, decline backward from the sea, forming altogether an elevated chain of mountains, from three thousand to five thousand feet in height; the road, therefore, which winds among these, necessarily conducts the traveller to never ending variety of prospect; and this variety I fully enjoyed for the first time, in travelling between Tariffa and Algesiras. At the highest point which the road traversed, the view might be called sublime: it looked down into the sea, which seemed like a majestic river flowing between gigantic mountains; one of its banks being the mountain below me, which appeared to dip into the water—the other, the Barbary coast, stretching away in bold outline, and forming, directly opposite, that high and frowning promontory, which is the southern boundary of the Streights of Gibraltar.
From this point, the road descended into a deep and highly picturesque valley, crossing a fine clear torrent, and then ascending through a forest of aged cork trees. Here the air was filled with the perfume of aromatic plants, particularly the balm of Gilead, which grew every where around; and I also noticed abundance of rosemary, sweet marjorum, and many medicinal plants, of whose names I am ignorant, although I had no difficulty in recognizing their smells.
From the next elevation, I obtained the first view of Gibraltar,—an object, that even if deprived of its localities, would possess an interest exclusively its own; for it is impossible that an Englishman travelling across the Peninsula, and first descrying this tower of strength rising between Africa and Europe, should not feel that he is an Englishman. Far from country and home, home lies before him; and he is not too prejudiced a man, who, in a moment like this, feels that there is a peculiar charm in an English voice, and puts spurs to his horse that he may the sooner hear its music. I stopped a few moments, however, upon the elevation, to enjoy the prospect: the calm, sun-shiny bay of Algesiras, lay below,—the blue bosom of the water chequered with the many vessels and their shadows; the rock of Gibraltar, part in sunshine, part in shade, rising out of the other side of the bay. Beyond the tongue of land that connected Gibraltar with the coast of Spain, were seen the lofty Sierras of Granada; while beyond the Streights, the horizon was bounded by the mountains of Morocco. But the pure air of the mountains had disposed me for breakfast, and I made haste to reach Algesiras, where I found a good inn and tolerable coffee.
My muleteer having no passport for Gibraltar, he of course could not pass the Spanish lines, and I was therefore obliged to find another conveyance for Gibraltar; and while inquiries were making for horses, I took the opportunity of strolling through the town.
Algesiras is charmingly situated at the foot of mountains, upon a little slope; and the sea washes the houses. The ruins of the ancient citadel, within which the Moors continued to defend themselves when they were driven from the town, are still visible. Just opposite to the town, and not a quarter of a mile from the shore, is the little island of Palomas; it is fortified, and commands the town, and the approach on that side. When I walked down to the harbour, I found the packet-boat for Ceuta getting under weigh. Ceuta, a Spanish possession on the African coast, is five leagues from Algesiras; and a packet sails twice every week: the passage seldom exceeds five or six hours. The wind was fair, and I was almost tempted to step into the boat, which would carry me to Africa to dinner. But Ceuta, I believe, is an uninteresting spot; and if one be desirous of visiting Africa, it is better to go to Tangiers, to which there are constant opportunities from Gibraltar.