The temptation takes them on their weakest side when it presents itself
in the form of tobacco, for the Spaniards are a nation of smokers. The
manufacture and sale of tobacco is a monopoly of the Government, and
yields a large revenue, amounting, I believe, to fifteen millions of
dollars. It might amount to twice as much if every smoker in Spain
bought only Spanish tobacco. But who will pay the price for the
Government cigars and cigarettes when they can be obtained without
paying duty? Smuggling is going on every day, and every hour of the day;
and the Spaniards say that it is winked at and encouraged by the English
in Gibraltar; to which the latter reply that whatever smuggling is done,
is done by the Spaniards themselves, for which they are not responsible.
A shopkeeper in Gibraltar has as good a right to sell a pound of tobacco
to a Spanish peasant as to an English sailor. What becomes of it after
it leaves his shop is no concern of his. Of course the Spanish police
are numerous, and are, or are supposed to be, vigilant. The Carabineros
are stationed at the lines, whose duty it is to keep a sharp look-out on
every passing vehicle; whether it be a lordly carriage rolling swiftly
by, or a market wagon; to poke their noses into every little cart; to
lift up the panniers of every donkey; and even to thrust their hands
into every basket, and to give a pinch to every suspicious-looking
parcel. And yet, with this great display of watchfulness, which indeed
is a little overdone, somehow an immense quantity slips through their
fingers. Many amusing stories are told of contrabandists. One
honest Spaniard had a wonderful dog that went through miraculous
transformations: he was sometimes fat and sometimes lean, nature (or
man) having provided him with a double skin, between which was packed
a handsome allowance of tobacco. This dog was a model of docility, and
would play with other dogs, like the poor innocent that he was, and then
dart off to his master to "unload" and be sent back again! It was said
that he would make several trips a day. In another case a poor man tried
to make an honest living by raising turkeys for market; but even then
fate had a spite against him, for after he had brought them into town,
he had no luck in selling them! The same ill-fortune attended him
every day. But one evening, as he came out of the gates looking sad and
sorrowful, the Carabineros took a closer inspection of his cart, and
found that every turkey had been prepared for another market than that
of Gibraltar, by a well-spiced "stuffing" under her motherly wings!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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