The illustrations and quotes below are taken from a three-volume edition of Picturesque Europe that was reprinted in Europe by Cassell & Co. The engravings are posted more or less in the order in which the appropriate quotes appear on the book.
GibraltarThe great rock itself presents a series of unrivalled pictures. It has an entirely different shape from different points of view. As seen travelling southward from Gaucin, it raises its twin peaks like some gigantic double tooth protruding from the sea.
Cross the hills from the westward, and descend by the Tarifa road upon Algeciras as evening falls, and the place looks for all the world like a human corpse floating upon the waters; and so the neighbours have christened it “El Cuerpo.” Approaching from the Mediterranean, the eye gazes up from the ship at a straight, sheer precipice, like the wall of a monstrous house.
Seen from the Atlantic only does the rock seem to abate its ruggedness. The peaks show three-fold; the sky-line is serrated; the slope is less abrupt; all along its face white houses nestle amidst luxuriant vegetation; the sea line is fringed with a long, low, white wall, above which clusters the closely packed town.
The views, again, from the rock landward to Spain and the north, or across the straits to Africa and the south, are superb. Climb first to the signal-station, El Hacho, the centre peak of the three, so named from the Spanish hacho, which signifies a faggot of sticks covered with pitch, at one time the only means of giving alarm from this point of vantage. Now keen eyes with powerful glasses sweep the whole circumference of the horizon, and keep watch upon the sea-approaches, noting with unfailing accuracy every flag and every build of steamer, whether small craft or full-rigged, and reporting the same by signal and telegraph to the town below.
From the signal-station, as shown in the engraving, the best view is towards Spain. In the immediate foreground are rugged masses of oolitic rock, the geological “formation” of Gibraltar; and in among the interstices, seemingly without foothold,
Gibraltar and Spain - The View from the Signal Station
. . . Down at the bottom of the giddy cliff the eye rests upon the little village of Catalan Bay, of which more directly ; beyond the houses and the beach the tideless Mediterranean sweeps round by the eastern shore to the foot of the Sierra Bermeja, aptly named, from its native hue, the Vermilion Hills; and along the coast are Estepona and Marbella, the white, straggling towns of Spain.
Towards sun-down this view is almost beyond description; the evening rays light up the cream-coloured surface of the rock, and the reverse slopes deepen into darkest shadow; rosy Opalescent tints irradiate the mountain-tops, and the sea takes a thousand tender tones of azure and emerald green.
Or face directly about, and clambering down to another and a lower ledge ofrock, look southward towards Africa. Another cone-shaped peak soars daringly into the sky, repeating the natural features of that just described.
On its summit are the ruins of O'Hara Tower, so named after a former famous governor, the General O'Hara, who was the subject of the celebrated Miss Berry's romantic attachment, a love “which never found its earthly close.” This tower was built as a look-out station, whence the governor thought the Spanish fleet might be descried even in Cadiz Bay, but it was little used, and presently was struck with lightning, afterwhich it became the ruin it still remains.
Gibraltar and Africa – Charles V Wall and O’Hara’s Tower
The wall which runs up the foreground of this engraving is the work of days when Spain was all-powerful, and efforts were made to fortify the rock. This wall is still known as “Charles the Fifth's,” and the arms of that proud monarch may be traced above the south port gate.
Beyond the peak, at a much lower level, but still raised high above the sea, lies the plateau of Windmill Hill, a rocky strip of land occupied by soldiers' huts, and which is scarped and strongly held by defensive works. Only a narrow strip of strait separates Europe at this its southernmost extremity from Ceuta, the nearest point.
. . . Ceuta again may be seen from the sea-beach at Catalan Bay. This curious little hamlet, which lies at the back of the rock, is peopled by a race half-Spanish, half-Italian, descendants from the shipwrecked crew of a Genoese barque, who, when cast away at this point, settled here, seeking wives among the natives of Gibraltar, but yet retaining their own tongue, a mongrel Italian, which is spoken still at Catalan Bay.
They are all fishermen now; their |boats, the quaintly-shaped, high-prowed faluchas – (felucca) with their lateen sails and curious spars, are to be seen drawn up on their sands, surrounded by fishing-nets and sea birds, while the patient Spanish donkeys, who do all the work in a place where high roads are few and wheeled vehicles scarce, trudge backwards and forwards with supplies for the markets of the fortress.
A noticeable feature at Catalan Bay is the sand breccia, which rises at a steep incline above the village to a point high up the back of the rock. Geological evidence goes to prove that this long slope is the growth of centuries, and is composed of sand transferred bodily by the east winds from the African shores; it is strangely ribbed and contorted by the action of the wind and atmosphere, but its dun hue is diversified here and there with patches and tufts of hardy grass, yet more by the boulders of every size and shape which have been detached at various epochs from the main rock above and have rolled down, some to be arrested midway, others falling right into the waters, where, with quaint weather-worn outlines, they add greatly to the picturesqueness of the scene.
Catalan Bay - Bottom picture compares a different engraving from an unknown source - The variation on the right omits the donkey and is quite different in many respect - The style, however, is very similar to Fenn’s
. . . the Alameda Garden, which extends from the line or Sea wall as high as the Windmill Hill Road. This chief park and pleasure-ground of the rock has been laid out with infinite pains and ever fostered lovingly by governors from General Don, who began the good work, to Lord Napier of Magdala, who now reigns supreme in the fortress. The fertile soil has amply repaid the care bestowed upon it, and the garden is rich in every description of tree, shrub, and flower.
This Windmill Hill Road is one of the main thoroughfares and principal arteries of the fortress, connecting north with south, the old crowded town lying nearest the gates on the Spanish side, and the southern suburb, which includes several barracks, the military prison, the great hospital, and the point or promontory of Europa, lying opposite the African coast.
Along this high road much traffic constantly passes. Now it is a regiment, with bands playing and colours flying, on its way to the exercising ground; now merely a handful of soldiers bound to relieve guard at one or other of the innumerable guard-houses which stand all over the rock; now nothing but a string of donkeys, pannier-laden, bearing charcoal and fruit stuff for sale among the English housewives who live far from the markets of the town.
A slice of this town is visible above the tops of the Alameda Garden, and beyond that again a corner of Gibraltar Bay, in which lies a medley of shipping - coal-hulks, traders, Her Majesty’s ironclads, or a swarm of lateen-sailed faluchas, into whose character and cargoes the Spanish revenue boats, or guarda costas, would gladly make searching investigation.
The hills which close the distance are in Spain. That nearest is known as the Queen of Spain's Chair, because a seat was prepared here for the consort of Philip V., from which she might witness the triumphal re-entry of the Spanish troops into Gibraltar after it had been recovered from the English—a work of supererogation, as it proved. The white town of San Roque crowns adjoining hill—a somnolent, uninteresting place, known chiefly as half-way house to that shady cork wood so dear to picnic-loving English folk when the rock itself swelters under the moist Levanter, or is burnt up by the tropical July sun.
But that Gibraltar is before all things a fortress and a garrison town can never be forgotten or overlooked. The very atmosphere is warlike; martial sounds perpetually strike the ear, the eye rests everywhere upon soldiers and indications of their trade. Nature seeks in vain to conceal the stern hand that holds the place in its grip.
Where least expected, the gleam of a bayonet or the red coat of a sentinel peeps out from among a leafy screen, and the guns of strong batteries, like the well-named “snake in the grass,” proclaim themselves even when their muzzles are smothered with flowers. P50
Uniforms predominate among the crowds that throng the narrow streets; fatigue parties are moving rapidly to and fro; here artillerymen are busily engaged mounting or moving an eighty-one-on gun, there a handful of skilful engineers are repairing, constructing, and controlling the labours of others.
Other unmistakable symptoms of military possession are to be seen on every side: in the keen scrutiny of all strangers who would seek to enter, whether at Landport or Waterport, where aliens must produce or obtain permits, and even Englishmen must prove their nationality in words analogous to the ancient Civis Romanus sum; in the precision with which the gates are opened and closed at the sound of the morning and evening gun, when with much pomp and ceremony the “keys” - badges of ownership which are formally handed over to a new governor when he takes the oath at installation - are marched under escort from the governor's guard, and the process of lifting or lowering drawbridges, locking and unlocking the massive portals, which turn slowly on their hinges, is punctiliously performed by an officer of standing and trust.
Assuredly it seems impossible that Gibraltar should ever again be carried by a coup de main. On the question of the continued impregnability or otherwise of this world-renowned fortress in the face of modern changes, no positive opinion can be expressed. The weight of metal and the great ranges of modern artillery point to the probable employment of guns in position at secure distances whence they might pound fortifications into a jelly.
But on the other hand, it may be urged that a fortress like Gibraltar will always be in a position to defend itself with as many and as heavy guns as any that can be brought against it. Our great arsenals at home and our progress in the manufacture of warlike matériel will, it is hoped, always place us above competition as to armament, and Gibraltar, therefore, unless exposed to a great hostile combination, may reasonably be expected still to hold its own against all comers.
Meanwhile there has been no slackness of effort to strengthen its defences, natural and artificial, to the utmost possible extent. Every point has been included, and each and all are subjected to close continual examination, and kept in thorough repair. Whether it is the massive masonry of the sea-wall, or the frowning lines which overlook the “Inundation,” the murderous batteries which show their teeth at the Old Mole or Devil's Tongue, as it was christened in the last siege, at King's Bastion, Jumper's, and all along the upper level of the Queen's Road, or the great galleries tunnelled into the heart of the solid rock the same unstinting pains, the same indefatigable patience is to be observed.
The Old Mole
These last-named galleries are indeed among the chief wonders of the batteries which show their teeth at the Old Mole or Devil’s Tongue, as it was christened in the last siege, at King’s Bastion, Jumper’s, and all along the upper level of the Queen’s Road, or the great galleries tunnelled into the heart of the solid rock--the same unstinting pains, the same indefatigable patience is to be observed.
These last-named galleries are indeed among the chief wonders of the fortress. Their situation is in the northern face of the rock, which overlooks the north front, the only side on which attack has ever been deemed feasible, and it has been here, upon the narrow isthmus which connects Gibraltar with the main land, and which in part is now called the neutral ground, that the besiegers have always thrown up their lines.
General Elliot, it is said, was once standing, during the last great siege, watching the terrible havoc made by the enemy's batteries from this side, and in his anguish he cried aloud, “I will give a thousand dollars to any one who will suggest how I can obtain a flanking fire upon the enemy's works.” It was then that a sergeant of the Royal Artificers, so runs the report, stepped forward and proposed to drive a tunnel into the rock.
The idea was at once and gladly adopted. The inventor had himself charge of the operation, which was continued with marked results during the siege. For years after its conclusion the work still went on, till now the galleries half encircle this side of the rock. They may be plainly seen with their embrasures in the engraving, that on the single peak nearest the sea containing within it a spacious chamber known now as St. George's Hall, and mounting many guns.
It is an imposing spectacle when, upon the anniversary of Queen Victoria's birthday, each of these embrasures, following the lead of the rock gun on the very summit, belches forth in succession its fire and smoke, till the base is wreathed in clouds. On such a day the ancient Moorish water-wheel, or noria, at the foot of the cliff, turned by a patient ox, and encircled by palm-tree and prickly pear, would, if sentient, acknowledge that the present possessors of Gibraltar are mightier than any of their predecessors by far.
