ROUND THE TOWN.
Accustomed as we are to think of Gibraltar as a Fortress, we may forget
that it is anything else. But it is an old Spanish town, quaint and
picturesque as Spanish towns are apt to be, with twenty thousand
inhabitants, in which the Spanish element, though subject to another and
more powerful element, gives a distinct flavor to the place. Indeed, the
mingling of the Spanish with the English, or the appearance of the two
side by side, without mingling, furnishes a lively contrast, which
is one of the most piquant features of this very miscellaneous and
picturesque population.
Of course, in a garrison town the military element is first and
foremost. As there are always five or six thousand troops in Gibraltar,
it is perhaps the largest garrison in the British dominions, unless
the troops in and around London be reckoned as a garrison. But that is
rather an army, of which only a small part is in London itself, where
a few picked regiments are kept as Household Troops, not only to insure
the personal safety of the sovereign, but to keep up the state and
dignity of the court; while other regiments are distributed in barracks
within easy call in case of need, not for defence against foreign
enemies so much as to preserve internal order; to put down riot and
insurrection; and thus guard what is not only the capital of Great
Britain, but the commercial centre of the world.
Very different from this is a garrison town, where a large body of
troops is shut up within the walls of a fortress. Here the military
element is so absorbing and controlling, that it dominates the whole
life of the place. Everything goes by military rule; even the hours of
the day are announced by "gun-fire;" the morning gun gives the exact
minute at which the soldiers are to turn out of their beds, and the last
evening gun the minute at which they are to "turn in," signals which,
though for the soldiers only, the working population of the town find it
convenient to adopt; and which outsiders _must_ regard, since at
these hours the gates are opened and shut; so that a large part of the
non-military part of the population have to "keep step," almost as much
as if they were marching in the ranks, since their rising up and their
lying down, their goings out and their comings in, are all regulated by
the fire of the gun or the blast of the bugle.
The presence of so large a body of troops in Gibraltar gives a constant
animation to its streets, which are alive with red-coats and blue-coats,
the latter being the uniform of the artillery. This is a great
entertainment to an American, to whom such sights in his own country are
rare and strange. A few years ago we had enough of them when we had a
million of men in arms, and the land was filled with the sound of war.
But since the blessed days of peace have come we seldom see a soldier,
so that the parades in foreign capitals have all the charm of novelty.
In fondness for these I am as much "a boy" as the youngest of my
countrymen. Almost every hour a company passes up the street, and never
do I hear the "tramp, tramp," keeping time to the fife and drum, that I
do not rush to the balcony to see the sight, and hear the sounds which
stir even my peaceful breast.
There is nothing that stirs me quite so much as the bugle. Twice a day
it startles us with its piercing blast, as it follows instantly the
gun-fire at sunrise and sunset. But this does not thrill me as when I
hear it blown on some far-off height, and dying away in a valley below,
or answered back from a yet more distant point, like a mountain echo.
One morning I was taking a walk to Europa Point, and as the path leads
upward I came upon several squads of buglers (I counted a dozen men in
one of them) practising their "calls." They were stationed at different
points on the side of the Rock, so that when one company had given the
signal, it was repeated by another from a distance, bugle answering to
bugle, precisely like the echoes in the Alps, to which every traveller
stops to listen. So here I stopped to listen till the last note had died
away in the murmuring sea; and then, as I went on over the hill, kept
repeating, as if it were a spell to call them back again:
"Blow, bugles, blow,
Set the wild echoes flying!"
As the English are masters of Gibraltar, I am glad to see that they
bring their English ideas and English customs with them. Nothing shows
the thoroughly English character of the place more than the perfect
quiet of the day of rest. Religious worship seems to be a part of the
military discipline. On Sunday morning I heard the familiar sound of
music, followed by the soldiers' tramp, and stepping to the balcony
again, found a regiment on the march, not to parade but _to church_.
Gibraltar has the honor of being the seat of an English bishop, because
of which its modest church bears the stately name of a Cathedral; and
here may be seen on a Sunday morning nearly all the officials of the
place, from the Governor down; with the officers of the garrison: and
probably the soldiers generally follow the example of their officers
in attending the service of the Church of England. But they are not
compelled to this against their own preferences. The Irish can go to
mass, and the Scotch to their simpler worship. In all the churches there
is a large display of uniforms, nor could the preachers address more
orderly or more attentive listeners. The pastor of the Scotch church
tells me that he is made happy when a Scotch regiment is ordered to
Gibraltar, for then he is sure of a large array of stalwart Cameronians,
among whom are always some who have the "gift of prayer," and know how
to sing the "Psaumes of Dawvid." These brave Scots go through with their
religious exercises almost with the stride of grenadiers, for they are
in dead earnest in whatever they undertake, whether it be praying or
fighting; and these are the men on whom a great commander would rely to
lead a forlorn hope into the deadly breach; or, as an English writer has
said, "to march first and foremost if a city is to be taken by storm!"
Besides the garrison, and the English or Spanish residents of Gibraltar,
the town has a floating population as motley in race and color as can
be found in any city on the Mediterranean. Indeed it is one of the most
cosmopolitan places in the world. It is a great resort of political
refugees, who seek protection under the English flag. As it is so close
to Spain, it is the first refuge of Spanish conspirators, who, failing
in their attempts at revolution, flee across the lines. Misery makes
strange bedfellows. It must be strange indeed for those to meet here who
in their own land have conspired with, or it may be against, each other.
Apart from these, there is a singular mixture of characters and
countries, of races and religions. Here Spaniards and Moors, who fought
for Gibraltar a thousand years ago, are at peace and good friends, at
least so far as to be willing to cheat each other as readily as if
they were of the same religion. Here are long-bearded Jews in their
gabardines; and Turks with their baggy trousers, taking up more space
than is allowed to Christian legs; with a mongrel race from the Eastern
part of the Mediterranean, known as Levantines; and another like unto
them, the Maltese; and a choice variety of natives of Gibraltar, called
"Rock scorpions," with Africans blacker than Moors, who have perhaps
crossed the desert, and hail from Timbuctoo. All these make a Babel
of races and languages, as they jostle each other in these narrow
and crowded streets, and bargain with each other, and, I am afraid,
sometimes swear at each other, in all the languages of the East.
Here is a field for the young American artists, who after making their
sketches in Florence and Rome and Naples, sometimes come to Spain, but
seldom take the trouble to come as far as the Pillars of Hercules. As
an old traveller, let me assure them that an artist in search of the
picturesque, or of what is curious in the study of strange peoples, may
find in Gibraltar, with its neighbor Tangier, (but three hours' sail
across the Straits) subjects for his pencil as rich in feature, in
color, and in costume, as he can find in the bazaars of Cairo or
Constantinople.