Picture of the Street Population of Gibraltar; the Construction of Houses favourable to Epidemic; Scenery, union of Nature and Art; the Agremens of Gibraltar as a Military Station; high Prices in Gibraltar; the Alameda; the Excavations; Walk to the Summit; the Monkeys; Magnificent View; Sunday in Gibraltar; Trade; the Epidemic; Extortion at the Passport Office; Voyage to Malaga; View of the City from the Sea; a strange Usage; Pictures of Idleness; facility of Living in Malaga; Bad Character of the Population; an Anecdote; Public Edifices; Society; Morals; Italian Opera; curious Scenes; a perilous Situation; the Wines of Malaga; Produce, and Export of Wines; Malaga Sherry; Export of Fruits; the Raisins of Malaga; Trade with England; Excursions in the Neighbourhood; Water-Coolers; Prices of Provisions.
To some, it may almost appear waste of words, to speak of Gibraltar,—Gibraltar, a British possession that every body has heard of, and where there are always five or six British regiments; and yet, if I be at all entitled to judge of others, by my own ignorance of Gibraltar before I visited it, I suspect the rock of Gibraltar is but very imperfectly known to those who have never passed the Streights.
When I threw open the window of the hotel, and looked out upon the street, it seemed as if I had been suddenly transported to England. I saw English houses, English names upon the corners of the streets, English names over the shops, English faces, English dresses. But a more narrow inspection of the population, destroys the illusion; for it is of so motley a character, that if we can suppose one to be carried to Gibraltar, without having been informed of his destination, he would be utterly at a loss to imagine in what corner of the world he had been set down. That gentleman sauntering down the street in a surtout and black neckcloth, is an Englishman; his countenance and his dress, alike decide his country: the two ladies who follow, are Spanish; the light step, and graceful gait, would be sufficient to determine this; but the mantilla and the fan, put it beyond doubt: those two on horseback, are a British officer and an English lady; the horse and the scarlet uniform fix the character of the one,—and as for the other, the bright sunny face, and auburn ringlets, are sufficient, without the evidence of the riding habit. The three women crossing the street, are neither English nor Spanish; their scarlet cloaks, trimmed with black velvet, distinguish them as Gibraltar women; or they might be Genoese. These men with turbans, ample trowsers, and crimson girdles, standing in a group under the piazzas, are Moors, the former masters of Spain: and these with bare legs, and sandals, and black caps and beards, sitting in the streets, are Barbary Jews, the common porters of Gibraltar: and that, is an English trading captain, easily known any where: and who can mistake the British tar, with his jacket and trowsers, and rolling walk, and bluff countenance—or the Spanish muleteer, the Andalusian, with his dark eye, and bizarre dress—or the kilted soldier, his sinewy limbs, and rough face, bearing the complexion of Scotch winds, and Highland hills? All this is seen in less than two minutes from the window of Griffith’s hotel.
Nothing can be worse judged than the manner in which the town of Gibraltar is built; the houses are constructed for the latitude of England in place of the latitude of Africa. It is not to be wondered at, that when epidemics find their way to Gibraltar, their progress should be irresistible; for not one demand of a hot climate has been complied with: here are no patios, and fountains, and open galleries, admitting a free circulation of air, as in Seville; all is closely boxed up, as if for the climate of England; closed doors, narrow passages, and narrow stairs, keep out the fresh, and keep in the foul air. In place of the floors being of brick, or Valencia tiles, they are of wood; the rooms are small; the windows, not folding, lightly closed, and opening upon airy balconies, but constructed upon the most approved air-excluding plan; and the bedrooms carpeted, and the beds curtained. The effects of all this may easily be imagined,—the spread of disease is powerfully assisted by filthiness, and by impure and stagnant air; and, accordingly, no where in Europe have the ravages of the plague been so fearful as in Gibraltar. The streets and houses are incapable of alteration; and therefore the only remedy would be, gradually to pull down the houses, and to replace them with others better fitted to the climate.
The morning after my arrival in Gibraltar, I walked out, with some curiosity, to see more of a spot of which I had heard so much. After leaving the town, the road led me towards the south-west, gradually mounting the rock, and disclosing novel and entrancing views below, while it conducted me through most charming scenes. I was every where struck with the results of industry, and of art—not supplanting nature, but adding its embellishments where her hand had already traced the outline. Wherever a nook in the rocks was covered with a little soil, it bore evidence of the labour that had been bestowed upon it; upon every little eminence, beautiful cottages, the quarters of the officers, or the country houses of the merchants, were seen surrounded by pretty gardens; and shaded, on one side perhaps by a majestic rock, on the other by orange trees and acacias. On both sides of the road, luxuriant hedges of geranium in flower, captivated more senses than one; and the rocks, too, were covered with its scarlet and lilac blossoms. The road which I pursued looked down upon the Alameda, which I had not then visited, but which looked most captivating from above; I saw it sprinkled with fig trees, with their broad beautiful leaves and fantastic trunks—and acacias, with their little yellow tufts so full of fragrance—and orange trees, speckled thick with the bright fruit, embowered in its green alcove. It was a charming prospect to look down upon the Alameda, and across to the Spanish main, over the calm bay—and up to the gigantic rocks, covered with their natural foliage, and sheltering the pretty villas that nestled under them. In about an hour and a half, I reached the south-west point, after passing numerous ranges of fine barracks; here the rock dips perpendicularly into the sea; and from this point, the long bold line of the African coast is seen stretching away to the west and south. The whole rock of Gibraltar is intersected by roads, broad and smooth, all adapted for horse exercise, and most of them for carriages. In fact, Gibraltar is not the banishment some people suppose; and as military quarters, it possesses many more agremens than any English provincial town can boast. There is no want of society in Gibraltar, for the military are always sufficiently numerous to form society among themselves; and that fine old gentleman, Sir George Don,[A] is just such a man as ought to be governor of Gibraltar, because he understands hospitality, and brings the inhabitants together. Every body in Gibraltar is bent upon amusement: there are balls and concerts, and private parties, and an excellent library and a reading room, where I saw the English magazines fifteen days after they were published in London. Add to all these agremens, charming rides on the fine sands within the Spanish lines; walks in the Alameda, where there are parades and military music every day; boating in the bay; and excursions to Algesiras, Ceuta, and Tangiers; and news from England by the steam-packet every month,—and it will be admitted that Gibraltar is not a place of military banishment. One drawback Gibraltar indeed possesses,—the expense of living. Almost every article of subsistence is brought from the Spanish main, from Africa, or from England; and every thing is therefore expensive: house-rent, especially, is exorbitantly high; the rent of a moderately sized house, ranging from 200l. to 400l. per annum. It is probable, however, that the withdrawal of business and population from Gibraltar to Cadiz—the result of the latter place having been made a free port—will affect a reduction in the value of property, and in the amount of house-rent. Clothing is an exception to the dearness of every thing in Gibraltar: all goods of foreign manufacture are of course to be bought of the regular trader, in a free port, at the same price as in the country where they are manufactured, with only the addition of freight, and the profit of the dealer; but all such articles find their way by some means into the hands of the Jews; and at the public sales which are held in the market-place almost daily, every thing may be bought far below prime cost.—I saw fine broad cloth sold at a dollar a yard.
The Alameda of Gibraltar is truly a little paradise; and whenever I left the inn, I found myself on the road to this delightful retreat. Along the whole of the north side of Gibraltar, there is a level, or nearly level stripe, between the base of the rock and the sea; this stripe varies in breadth, from a quarter, to perhaps two-thirds of a mile; the east end of it is occupied by the town, and the west end by the Alameda. This delightful promenade is about half a mile long; it is intersected by innumerable walks, and affords, besides its own attractions, ever changing and delightful views of the bay, the rock, the mainland, and the town. The fences are entirely of geranium of every variety; and of a size, such as would be thought worthy of a pilgrimage in England. The spaces between the walks, are thickets of geranium, and of various flowering and odoriferous plants, seen in the English green-house; and fig trees, silver elms, acacias, and orange trees, are thickly scattered over this little paradise. The Alameda of Gibraltar would be beautiful any where—even if surrounded by a desert; but how much more beautiful, bounded on one side by a rock fifteen hundred feet high, and on the other, by a placid bay of the Mediterranean!
But it is the excavations in the rock that are always spoken of as the wonder of Gibraltar. I of course visited these, and found them all, and more than all, that I had expected. The whole interior of the solid rock has been hewn, blasted, and formed into galleries, of immense extent,—wide enough for a carriage,—and leaving, every ten or twelve yards, openings at which cannon are placed, commanding the sea or the land approach to the rock. There are two galleries, one over the other, and the extent of both is between two and three miles. At one point in the highest gallery, a small opening leads to a projecting part of the rock, at the side of the great precipice of fifteen hundred feet, facing the north-east. I found every niche in the rock covered with white narcissus,—and beautiful looked these gentle flowers, standing in little companies, in spots where the hand of man could never reach, nor the foot of the goat ever stray: but I made a capture of one cluster, which nodded upon a little shelf within my reach; they smelt quite as sweet as the garden narcissus; and there were no fewer than eight flowers upon one stalk.
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.
I found the pictures presented by the street population of Malaga interesting, because they were novel; but the streets themselves presented little attraction. The only handsome part of the town is the Alameda; the other parts present a labyrinth of narrow, intricate streets, almost wholly inhabited by the tradespeople, or by a low population; but the buildings that line both sides of the Alameda are magnificent, and the interior of many of these houses, I found more splendid than any thing I had yet seen in Spain. The public buildings are but indifferent; with the exception of the cathedral, which is greatly admired by the people of Malaga; but which, after having seen those of Toledo and Seville, possesses but little attraction. Like the cathedral of Cadiz, it is not finished; it was intended to be surmounted by six towers, but only one of these has been erected. There are no pictures in the cathedral, nor are there any worthy of notice in the other churches or convents of the city.
The state of society in Malaga, does not greatly differ from that of the other cities in the south of Spain; but there is one strange peculiarity in Malaga society, that cannot but forcibly strike a stranger: this is, the extraordinary familiarity of servants. I have frequently seen servants at table, join in conversation with the family: a female servant while receiving orders, always sits down in the company of her mistress; and, upon one occasion, while a game at basto was playing, I saw a servant who had brought refreshments, walk forward to the table, place his two pecetas upon it, retire, and wait at a little distance to know the fate of his stake.
With respect to morals, I might repeat what I have said of Cadiz: I may merely add, that a Spanish lady of Malaga, married to a highly respectable Scotch merchant and consul, and who had resided all her days there, told me that she did not know one Spanish woman in Malaga who had always led a virtuous life. So universal is the system of gallantry in Malaga, that a gentleman is not designated as seÑor so and so, but invariably as the cortejo of this or that seÑora. In another respect, too, the low state of morals is shewn: I allude to the great laxity of female conversation. I was informed by the English mother of three grown-up daughters, that it was impossible to allow them to keep company with either married or unmarried Spanish women; and this I can very well believe, judging by the tone of conversation to which I have myself been witness.
Last autumn, Malaga supported an Italian opera; at which I was twice present. Upon one of these occasions, La Gaza Ladra was performed, and not ill performed. The Prima Donna was a sister of Malibran,—a very inferior singer to her celebrated relative, but by no means despicable, and she was well supported both in the vocal parts and by the orchestra. The theatre was crowded, and the dresses of the ladies might be called splendid. The love of dress is carried to a great length in Malaga. A young lady, fifteen years of age, who was of the same party with myself at the opera, told me that she had given twenty dollars for her fan; and another young person, the daughter of a small tradesman in Malaga, told me, when I admired her comb, that it had cost fourteen dollars. It was a curious spectacle in leaving the theatre, to see some hundreds of servants with lanterns waiting in the street. Gentlemen and ladies, have alike their lantern to light them home. To attempt the dark narrow streets of Malaga without this accompaniment, would be to tempt the mala gente, and certainly to encounter great and unnecessary risk. It was a very unseasonable interruption, just when every servant had discovered his master, and when the line of march had begun, to hear the little bell that announced the approach of the host. All the lights were suddenly arrested in their progress, and the procession passed through an avenue of kneelers, illuminated by the hundreds of lanterns that were placed upon the ground,—the spectacle was undoubtedly picturesque.
I consider myself to have had rather a narrow escape while at Malaga, in a visit which I made to the ruins of the castle. The ruins of the Moorish fortifications are of extraordinary extent; they reach from the city to the summit of the hill that flanks it to the east,—a distance not much less than a mile; and desirous of inspecting the ruins, as well as of enjoying the views which I had no doubt were to be enjoyed from the heights, I devoted an afternoon to this walk. As I ascended, occasional gaps in the ruins discovered charming glimpses over the city, the sea, and the mountains; and at one spot, where a half-fallen spiral staircase leads to the summit of a round tower, whose ruins flank the wall,—the whole magnificence of the prospect burst upon me. The city, washed by the Mediterranean,—the fertile plain to the north of Malaga, covered with gardens and orangeries, and sprinkled with villages and convents, and the fine range of magnificent and curiously broken mountains that environ that little plain;—the situation of Malaga leaves nothing to desire. I had not yet ascended above half way,—and the higher up, the more extensive are the ruins; the lower part being occupied by fortifications, but the upper half of the hill being covered with the remains of the castle. Soon after leaving the tower, I passed three ruffian-looking men sitting under the wall playing cards; and perhaps prudence ought to have whispered to me to return; but an Englishman with difficulty persuades himself of the possibility of violence in day-light; and the sun being above the horizon, I continued my walk. Higher up, I found myself entirely enclosed among the ruins; and having gone so far, and believing that I could be at no great distance from the summit, I resolved not to return by the same road, but to find some path that might lead me down the other side of the hill, either towards the sea or the back of the city. I therefore continued threading my way among the ruins. I had reached a very solitary spot, entirely shut in by massive walls, when, passing within ten or twelve yards of a low archway, scarcely two feet above the ground, I chanced to turn my eye in that direction, and was startled by seeing the dark countenances of two men peering from the mouth of it, their bodies being concealed by the gloom within. All that I had heard and knew of the character of the lowest class in Malaga, suddenly recurred to my mind; I felt the full danger of my situation, and walking a few wide paces farther, as if I had not observed them, till a fragment of the ruin was fortunately intercepted between me and the arch, I sprung forward with no tardy step; but not before a stealthy glance had shewn me the figure of one man already half way between the arch and myself, and another on the point of emerging from his lurking place. I have not the smallest doubt, that if these men had been aware of my approach, or if, in the hurry of the moment, I had mistaken my path among the ruins, or found no outlet, I should never have returned to write this volume: fortunately, however, I had not run more than twenty yards, when a gap in the wall shewed me the open country below, and the next moment I had passed through it, and dropped into a small olive plantation. I made what haste I could, down the hill to the city; and when I related the circumstance that had taken place, I was told I had been guilty of an imprudence that no one acquainted with Malaga would have ventured upon; that robbery, and murder also, had been perpetrated among these ruins; and that I owed my escape to nothing but the lucky accident of finding a speedy exit.
When we think of Malaga, it is generally in connexion with its wines; which, although not so much in vogue in England as in other times, yet enjoy a high reputation, and along with its fruits, form the distinction and the wealth of Malaga. I shall therefore make no apology for occupying a few pages with some details respecting the wines and fruits of this most southern city of the continent of Europe.
The wines of Malaga are of two sorts, sweet, and dry; and of the former of these, there are four kinds. First, The common “Malaga,” known and exported under that name. In this wine there is a certain proportion of boiled wine, which is allowed to burn, and which communicates a slightly burnt taste to the “Malaga.” The grape from which this wine is made, is a white grape, and every butt of Malaga contains no less than eleven gallons of brandy. Secondly, “Mountain.” This wine is made from the same grape as the other, and like the other, contains colouring matter, and brandy; the only difference is, that for “mountain,” the grape is allowed to become riper. Thirdly, “lagrimas,” the richest and finest of the sweet wines of Malaga; the name of which almost explains the manner in which it is made. It is the droppings of the ripe grape hung up, and is obtained without the application of pressure.
The dry wine of Malaga is produced from the same grape as the sweet wine, but pressed when greener: in this wine there is an eighth-part more of brandy than in the sweet wine; no less than one twelfth part of the dry Malaga being brandy.
The whole produce of the Malaga vineyards is estimated at from thirty-five to forty thousand butts, but owing to the increasing stock of old wine in the cellars, it is impossible to be precise in this calculation. The export of all the Malaga wines may be stated at about twenty-seven thousand butts. The principal market is the United States, and the States of South America; and to these countries, the export is rather upon the increase. The average price of the wines shipped from Malaga, does not exceed thirty-five dollars per butt; but wines are occasionally exported at so high a price as one hundred and seventy dollars. Many attempts have been made at Malaga to produce sherry, but not with perfect success. The Xeres grape has been reared at Malaga, upon a soil very similar to its native soil; but the merchants of Malaga have not ventured to enter the wine for export. For my own part, judging from a sample of wine which I tasted at the warehouse of Messrs. W. & G. Read, I should say that the experiment had succeeded; and that the sherry made at Malaga, might be introduced into the English market as sherry; and from its great cheapness, it could not fail to command a sale. One reason of the very low price of the wines of Malaga, is to be found in the cheapness of labour: field labour is only two and a half reals a day (4½d.). In the fruit and vintage time it is about double.
Next to its wines, the chief export of Malaga is fruit; consisting of raisins, almonds, grapes, figs, and lemons: but of these, raisins are the principal export. I have before me, a note of the exports of Malaga for the months of September and October, in the year 1830—the chief, though not the sole exporting months,—and I find, that during that time, the export of raisins amounted to two hundred and sixty-eight thousand, eight hundred and forty-five boxes; and thirty-one thousand, nine hundred and sixteen smaller packages. Of this quantity, one hundred and twenty-five thousand, three hundred and thirty-four boxes were entered for the United States; forty-five thousand, five hundred and thirteen for England; the remaining quantity being for France, the West Indies, the Spanish ports, South America, and Holland.
The raisins exported from Malaga are of three kinds; the muscatel, the bloom, or sun raisin, and lexias. The muscatel raisin of Malaga, is the finest in the world. In the preparation of this raisin, no art is used; the grape is merely placed in the sun, and frequently turned. The bloom, or sun raisin, is a different grape from the muscatel; but the process of preparing it is the same: like the other, it is merely sun-dried. The lexias acquire this name from the liquor in which they are dipped, and which is composed of water, ashes, and oil: these, after being dipped, are also dried in the sun. All muscatel raisins are exported in boxes, and also a part of the bloom raisins. In the year 1829, the number of boxes of muscatel and bloom raisins exported, was three hundred and twenty thousand; each box containing twenty-five lbs.—eight millions of lbs. in all. This quantity is independent of the export of bloom raisins in casks; and of lexias, the annual export of which, does not exceed thirty thousand arrobas. The export of raisins to England has fallen off; the export to America has constantly increased. In the year 1824, seventy-five ships cleared from the port of Malaga, for England, with fruit. In 1830, up to the first of November, thirty-four vessels had cleared out. It is supposed, that Cadiz having been made a free port, will have the effect of increasing the export fruit trade of Malaga. Owners are unwilling to send out vessels from England on ballast; and it is probable, that many will carry out goods to Cadiz, and then proceed to Malaga to take back a cargo, or part cargo of fruit.
Of the other fruits exported from Malaga, grapes, almonds, and lemons are the most extensively exported. In the months of September and October, 1830, eleven thousand six hundred and twelve jars of grapes were sent to England; to America, six thousand four hundred and twenty-nine; and to Russia one thousand six hundred and fifty. During the same period of time, five thousand three hundred and thirty-five arrobas of almonds (133,375 lbs.) were exported to England; and this constituted nearly the whole export: and during these months also, there were exported to England, three thousand seven hundred and fifty-nine boxes of lemons; to Germany, four thousand two hundred and one boxes; and to Russia, eight hundred and forty boxes. There is also a large export of oil from Malaga: but the export for the latter part of 1830 would be no criterion of the average; because the Greenland whale fishery having failed, extensive orders for olive oil had been received from England. Eight hundred and twenty-seven pipes of oil had been exported for the British market during the above months.
The general trade between England and Malaga is on the decline: that with both the Americas is increasing, especially in wines. The number of British vessels which entered the port of Malaga in 1827, I find, from an official note furnished by the British consul, to have been one hundred and four; in 1828, one hundred and twenty-six; in 1829, one hundred and five; in 1830, up to the 1st of November, eighty-three, exclusive of the small Gibraltar vessels. The number of American vessels entering in 1829, was fifty-five; but the average tonnage of the Americans being one hundred and seventy-five tons, and that of the English vessels not exceeding one hundred, the whole American is nearly equal to the whole of the English trade.
Whilst I remained in Malaga, my time was very agreeably employed; the weather was sufficiently cool to allow horse and foot exercise; and the neighbourhood of Malaga affords many charming excursions: these pleasantly filled up the mornings; while a stroll on the sea shore, the many hospitalities of English, American, and Spanish families, and the theatre or opera, agreeably occupied the evening. Among my excursions in the neighbourhood, one was made to the convent of Victoria, beautifully placed in a hollow of the neighbouring mountains, surrounded by charming gardens, where the most delicious fruits vie with each other in tempting the palate. Among the autumnal fruits of the south of Spain, they particularly prize the granada, or pomegranate, on account of its real, or salubrious qualities, especially in derangements of the bowels. North of the Sierra Morena, the pomegranate is an indifferent fruit; but in Andalusia and Granada, it arrives at perfection; and so full of juice is a really fine and ripe pomegranate, that one measuring four inches in diameter, may be compressed into the bulk of a nut.
In the neighbourhood of the convent of Victoria, the country people find that useful clay, of which they make the vessels called bucaros, used for cooling water. Without these, the inhabitant of these sultry shores would be deprived of one of his most essential luxuries; for when the hot winds prevail, water exposed to the air in these vessels, becomes icy cold. This singular fact is to be explained by the porous nature of these vessels, which allow the water to exude; and the hot wind blowing upon the moist external surface, a rapid evaporation and consequent cold, are produced.
From the same clay, there is an ingenious manufactory of little figures, representing Spanish costume in the different provinces. These are in great variety, and are executed with much truth and ability: indeed, I have not seen, in any other country, any thing so excellent in its kind. Nothing would have pleased me more, than to have carried a complete assortment of them to England; but they are of so fragile a nature, that they could scarcely have arrived at their destination without broken limbs and noses.
I occupied another day with an excursion to the Retiro, the country-seat of a noble family; but now in a state of dilapidation. The situation of the old castle is, however, beyond conception delightful,—nestling at the foot of the mountains, and almost bathed by the transparent waves of the Mediterranean; and in the adjoining gardens, every fruit-tree congenial to that glorious climate, flourishes in unfading luxuriance. Every where in the neighbourhood of Malaga, the acclivities not occupied by vines, are covered with the prickly pear, which is cultivated chiefly for the sake of the cochineal which breeds upon it: this valuable article of commerce has not, however, been yet produced in so great abundance as to form an article of export.
Few of the useful productions of the globe are unsuitable to the climate of some part of Spain. In the northern provinces, all the productions of the temperate climates arrive at perfection; and in the most southern parts, the climate is found sufficiently fine to ripen the produce of the Indies. To the eastward of Malaga, a few leagues along the coast, the sugar-cane is successfully cultivated: though this useful plant is known to have been much more extensively grown in the time of the Moors than now, which is evident, from the remains of their sugar-houses. Still, however, the sugar-cane is a valuable produce, and is said to supply a sugar scarcely inferior to that of the West Indies.
Malaga, like most of the other cities of Spain, has had various masters. Built by the Phoenicians, it was successively Carthagenian, Roman, Gothic, and Moorish; and in the reign of Haly Abenhameth, was the seat of empire. Ferdinand and Isabella succeeded in wresting Malaga from the dominion of the Moors, in the year 1487.
Malaga was formerly much more populous than it is now, though, within the last fifty years, the population has been again on the increase. Anciently, it contained nearly a hundred thousand persons; in the middle of the last century, the inhabitants were reduced to thirty thousand; and at present, it is said to contain about forty-five thousand.
I have nothing more to add of Malaga, excepting the price of provisions.
Beef is ten quartos the pound, of sixteen ounces; mutton the same. Pork, fourteen quartos. Eggs, two for six quartos—not much less than a penny each. A fine fowl, seven reals; a chicken, three reals; a duck, fifteen reals; a turkey, from twenty to thirty reals. The best bread, twelve quartos. Excellent wine, two reals per bottle. Potatoes, the measure of six pounds and a quarter, seven quartos, or about twopence. A barrel of anchovies, two reals. A partridge, four reals. A rabbit, ten reals. Fish, remarkably cheap and plentiful. Melons, grapes, pomegranates, figs, and prickly pears, so cheap as scarcely to form an article of expenditure.
Let it not be forgotten, that eight quartos are twopence farthing; and that, in one franc French, there are four reals.
