Spain in 1830, vol. 2Inglis, Henry D. (Henry David)
History
Spain in 1830, vol. 2
Inglis, Henry D. (Henry David)
Spain -- Description and travel
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.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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