After leaving the galleries, I wished to ascend to the highest point of the rock; but a sentry stopped me, telling me I could not be permitted to go higher, without an order from the governor. But the day being transcendantly beautiful, and, resolved upon a day’s ramble, I got out of the sentinel’s sight, and leaving the road, scrambled in a direct line towards the eastern point. Turning the corner of the declivities fronting the east, I suddenly found myself in the neighbourhood of eleven monkeys; they did not perceive me at first, nor, when they did, was there any great alarm manifested among them. They turned round, sat up, and looked at me; and after a few moments’ scrutiny, they wheeled about, and scampered away, chattering, and looking behind them; and disappeared round some projecting rocks. The monkeys are always to be found on the side of the rock opposite to that upon which the wind blows: they constantly shift their quarters with the wind.
It was a laborious ascent to reach the south-eastern summit of the rock, which is one thousand five hundred and ninety-five feet above the Mediterranean; but amply was the labour repaid: for my eye never embraced a more magnificent prospect. Looking towards the east, the bold coast of Granada stretched in a wide curve, ending in the dim mountains that lie around Malaga. Withdrawing the eye from the Spanish coast, it wandered over the calm Mediterranean, streaked like a summer lake, and baring its trembling bosom to the sunbeams. Farther to the south, was seen an indistinct line, stretching eastward; this was the coast of Africa: and towards the west, this line grew more distinct, till, at scarce three leagues across, it terminated in the dark high mountain of Barbary—one of the Pillars of Hercules. Turning towards the north, lay in unruffled tranquillity, the bay that separates Gibraltar from the Spanish Main. The vessels at anchor were mirrored below; many little boats were rowing about; and several mysticos and scampiavas had hung out their enormous sails, to woo the light airs that came, and died upon the summer sea. Beyond the bay, was the coast of Andalusia, seemingly within a gun-shot; the town of Algesiras nestling at the head of the bay, and in the hollow of the mountains that rose behind, dappled with the lights and shadows that the few wandering clouds cast upon their valleys and acclivities. Nor was the gigantic rock itself a picture of no importance in this glorious view: its rugged and fearful precipices, and deep ravines—a milk-white goat here and there standing upon a giddy point—the sentinels far below, their arms glittering in the sunshine—the verdure that covered the lower declivities, and fringed the bay—these completed the picture: a picture that I think can never pass from my memory.
One of the days I spent at Gibraltar was a Sunday. This day is there observed with great strictness: prayers are read to the troops on parade, and also in the government house. But it is a most unaccountable fact, that there should be no place of public worship for the large Protestant English population of this British possession: this is bitterly complained of. Hundreds among the troops would gladly attend church, if there was a church to attend; and many, rather than go to no temple at all, frequent the Catholic chapel. A Protestant church was begun some time ago, but want of funds has prevented its completion. All this reflects little credit upon those who have the management of such matters.
Gibraltar is a fallen and falling place, as a place of commerce; and there is no prospect of any revival. In speaking of Cadiz, I have already said that the whole, or almost the whole licit and illicit trade of Gibraltar, has been transferred to that city. The loss of the Cadiz market alone, which took up extensively the articles which were received into the free port of Gibraltar, might easily account for its decline. But there is still another cause for the decline of Gibraltar; a cause that might probably have been of itself sufficient to determine the ruin of this settlement, and which has, at all events, materially hastened it: I allude to the epidemic. Since the last terrible visitation of this kind, there has been a general feeling of insecurity: many, soon afterwards, removed their establishments elsewhere; and others are ready, upon the first rumour of disease, to quit a spot where life is held by so precarious a tenure.
Every one knows the history of Gibraltar. Before the establishment of the Moorish empire in Spain, Gibraltar was called Calpe; under the Moors it bore the name of Gibel-Tarif, and subsequently of Gibraltar. The importance attached to Gibraltar during the last years of the Moorish empire, has lately been made better known to us by that delightful work, the Chronicles of the Conquest of Granada. In the year 1704, Gibraltar was taken by the combined English and Dutch fleets under Sir George Rooke; and in 1713 it was confirmed to England by the peace of Utrecht. The only important attempt to wrest Gibraltar from the English was made in 1782, by the combined fleets of France and Spain; but the attempt proved abortive, and the rock of Gibraltar may now be considered inseparably united to the British empire[B].
After having spent some pleasant days at Gibraltar, I inquired respecting conveyances to Malaga. I learnt that it was a two days’ journey on mule back; and that the character of the country between Gibraltar and Malaga, was precisely the same as that which I had travelled from Cadiz. Tempted the same afternoon by a fine breeze from the west, and by an offer of a passage in a Spanish mystico, which the captain assured me would sail at six next morning, and would be in Malaga the same evening, I got all ready,—took out my passport and a bill of health, and went to bed in the hope of sleeping next night in Malaga. I gladly avail myself of this opportunity of mentioning the unjustifiable exactions of the public offices in this British possession. Throughout the whole of Spain, more than two pecetas (1s. 8d.) had never been demanded at any passport office; but at Gibraltar, where it is difficult to understand upon what principle an English subject should require permission of the English authorities to visit Malaga,—I was charged a dollar. As well might an Englishman about to visit Calais, be obliged to have the permission of Sir Richard Birnie. At all events, the charge is extravagant, and therefore unjust; the petty officer who signs his name at Gibraltar, and pockets the crown, is not, like a consul in a foreign port, the representative of the British government, and obliged to spend all, or more than all, that he receives. In Gibraltar the governor is the representative of the government; and the demand of a dollar from every Englishman who passes through Gibraltar, can only be regarded as a robbery of British subjects to support a sinecurist.
Looking from my window, about five next morning, I saw with dismay, that the wind had increased almost to a storm, still from the west, but too violent to allow any vessel to beat out of the bay; for it is a great difficulty attending the navigation from Gibraltar, that the most favourable wind for the Levant, is the most adverse for carrying a vessel out of the bay. I had made up my mind to bear the delay, and be contented with reading the English newspapers, and with an English dinner in the hotel, when the master of the mystico sent to inform me that the wind had so much abated as to permit him to beat out, and that he was on the point of sailing. I immediately ran down to the harbour, hired a boat, and was just in time to catch the mystico upon one of its tacks. The vessel had been obliged to leave the harbour, because, after gun-fire at five o’clock, the gates and harbour are shut, and nothing is permitted to pass out or in.
We beat out of the bay with some difficulty;—a brilliant sun-set flamed upon the rock of Gibraltar,—and just as the sun sunk behind the mountains of Barbary, we doubled Point Europa,—and lying to our course, went swiftly through the water. The current alone would carry a vessel from Gibraltar to Malaga, for it constantly sets in through the Streights into the Mediterranean, a fact that has puzzled both navigators and philosophers: but with a strong westerly breeze, the doubt was not, whether we should reach Malaga by day-break, but whether we might not pass it during the night; for the masters of these Spanish boats are not the most scientific of navigators. I sat upon deck till the line of coast became invisible, and then lay down on the lee side, where I slept till day-break; and looking up, I found we were traversing the bay of Malaga, and that we should be in the harbour in less than an hour. Malaga is an imposing object from the sea: it stands in the centre of a wide bay, flanked and backed by lofty mountains; and by the picturesque ruins of its ancient fortifications and castle, which cover the hill that rises immediately to the east, and seem, from their great extent, like the remains of a former city. When we had cast anchor, the health-boat rowed out to us: fortunately quarantine had lately been removed; and after a slight examination of luggage, I was permitted to go on shore; and on the recommendation of the British consul, I established myself in the Fonda de los tres Reyes.
Malaga I found an interesting, agreeable, and hospitable city; and I recollect with pleasure the time I spent there. After breakfasting, and waiting upon his Britannic majesty’s consul, Mr. Mark, whose attentions I have great pleasure in acknowledging, I committed myself to chance, and perambulated the city. One of the first places I happened to enter, was the market, where I was attracted by the singularity of a usage which I never remarked elsewhere. Various stalls were appropriated to the sale of poultry; but these were not exposed whole;—fowls, ducks, partridges, and various other birds, were cut up: here was a row of legs,—there, of wings, or breasts,—these were sold separately; and I saw no lack of purchasers. The general aspect of the population of Malaga, I found even more Moorish than that of Seville; and it afforded innumerable admirable pictures of idleness. Many of the market people were seated on the earth on circular mats, and the stools in general use were still lower than in Seville; but hundreds appeared to be doing nothing: groups sat upon the ground, their backs against the wall of some house or convent; others lay upon the steps at the entrance of the churches; and many sauntered listlessly to and fro in the sun, which at this season was rather coveted than shunned. All these idlers were wrapped up in their brown cloaks,—most of them ragged and patched,—and the greater number were regaling themselves with delicious melons, which they leisurely and indolently cut up with their long clasp knives—so often in Malaga put to less innocent purposes. Malaga is noted for its idle and bad population; a character which I believe it deservedly maintains, and which results chiefly from the facility with which the wants of life are supplied. A good melon may often be purchased for two or three quartos. A quartillo of wine (something more than a bottle) costs no more. A little barrel of anchovies may be purchased for two reals (4½d.); and if so, the fresh sardiña must be to be had at a price that will put a meal within the reach of any one who is possessed of a quarto (less than a farthing). These luxuries, indeed, require a few quartos to obtain them; and if begging be not sufficient for this, the mala gente of Malaga (for this is the expression commonly applied to its population) are at no loss to find the quartos in some other way. The whole idle population of Malaga are thieves: and in so degraded a state is public justice in this city, that crimes of a far darker hue than theft, pass unpunished; because, to take notice of them, would be to court the worst effects of revenge. In another chapter I have illustrated, by an example, the perfect security with which, in Malaga, a man may obey the very worst passions. A woman who dares prosecute the murderer of her husband, speedily receives a private intimation that effectually silences her; and it has been not uncommon, for money to be put into the hands of an escrivano previous to the commission of a murder, in order to ensure the services and protection of a person so necessary to one who meditates crime. I will relate a trifling circumstance that occurred while I was at Malaga, in corroboration of what I have been saying.
One night, Mr. F., a most respectable merchant of the town, while on his way home, was stopped and robbed. The man who committed the robbery was very well known to the gentleman whom he robbed: he was a waterman, owning a boat, and plying betwixt the pier and the vessels. Next morning, Mr. F. having occasion to go out to a vessel, walked down to the pier, and was stepping into a boat, when another man offered his services; Mr. F., without turning to look at the man who spoke, said this was his ordinary boatman, and he always employed men whom he knew. “What, sir,” said the other, lifting his hat above his brow, “don’t you know me?” Mr. F. turned round, and saw the man who had robbed him the night before; and yet, to prosecute a man, who thus in open day claimed the recollection of the person he had robbed, would be a hazard that no prudent inhabitant of Malaga dare encounter.