a city and port town of Andalusia in Spain, situated on the island of Leon, opposite to Port St Mary on the continent, about 60 miles south-west of Seville, and 40 north-west of Gibraltar. W. Long. 6° 40' N. Lat. 36° 30'.
It occupies the whole surface of the western extremity of the island, which is composed of two large circular parts, joined together by a very narrow bank of sand, forming altogether the figure of a chain-shot. At the south-east end, the ancient bridge of Suaco, thrown over a deep channel or river, affords a communication between the island and the continent; a strong line of works defends the city from all approaches along the isthmus; and, to render them still more difficult, all the gardens and little villas on the beach were in 1762 cleared away, and a dreary sandy glacis left in their room, so that now there is scarce a tree on the whole island.
Except the Calle Aneha, all the streets are narrow, ill paved, and infusorily stinking. They are all drawn in straight lines, and most of them intersect each other at right angles. The swarms of rats that in the nights run about the streets are innumerable; whole droves of them pass and repass continually, and these their midnight revels are extremely troublesome to such as walk late. The houses are lofty, with each a vestibule, which being left open till night, serves passengers to retire to; this custom, which prevails throughout Spain, renders these places exceedingly offensive. In the middle of the house is a court like a deep well, under which is generally a cistern, the breeding place of gnats and mosquitoes; the ground floors are warehouses, the first stories compting-house or kitchen, and the principal apartment up two pair of stairs. The roofs are flat, covered with an impenetrable cement, and few are without a mirador or turret for the purpose of commanding a view of the sea. Round the parapet-wall at top are placed rows of square pillars, meant either for ornament according to some traditional mode of decoration, or to fix awnings to, that such as sit there for the benefit of the sea breeze may be sheltered from the rays of the sun; but the most common use made of them, is to fasten ropes for drying linen upon. High above all these pinnacles, which give Cadiz a most singular appearance, stands the tower of signals. Here flags are hung out on the first sight of a sail, marking the size of the ship, the nation it belongs to, and, if a Spanish Indiaman, the port of the Indies it comes from. The ships are acquainted with the proper signals to be made, and these are repeated by the watchmen of the tower: as painted lists are in every house, persons concerned in commerce soon learn the marks.
The city is divided into 24 quarters, under the inspection of as many commissioners of police; and its population is reckoned at 140,000 inhabitants, of which 12,000 are French, and at least as many more Italians. The square of Saint Antonia is large, and tolerably handsome, and there are a few smaller openings of no great note. The public walk, or Alameda, is pleasant in the evening: it is fenced off the coach road by a marble rail. The sea air prevents the trees from thriving, and destroys all hopes of future shade.
From the Alameda, continuing your walk westwards, you come to the Campofanto, a large esplanade, the only airing-place for coaches; it turns round most part of the west and south sides of the island, but the buildings are straggling and ugly; the only edifice of any show is the new orphan house; opposite to it is the fortress of St Sebastian, built on a neck of land running out into the sea. The round tower at the extremity is supposed to have saved the city, in the great earthquake of 1755, from being swept away by the fury of the waves. The building proved sufficiently solid to withstand the shock, and break the immense volume of water that threatened destruction to the whole island. In the narrow part of the isthmus the surge beat over with amazing impetuosity, and bore down all before it; among the rest, the grandson of the famous tragic poet Racine, who strove in vain to escape, by urging his horse to the utmost of his speed. On St Sebastian's feast, a kind of wake or fair is held in the fort; an astonishing number of people then passing and repassing, on a string of wooden bridges laid from rock to rock, makes a very lively moving picture.
From hence to the wooden circus were they exhibit the bull feasts, you keep turning to the left close above the sea, which on all this side dashes over large ledges of rock: the shore seems here absolutely inaccessible. On this shore stands the cathedral, a work of great expense, but carried on with so little vigour, that it is difficult to guess at the term of years it will require to bring it to perfection. The vaults are executed with great solidity. The arches, that spring from the clustered pilasters to support the roof of the church, are very bold; the minute sculpture bestowed upon them seems superfluous, as all the effect will be lost from their great height, and from the shade that will be thrown upon them by the filling up of the interstices. From the sea, the present top of the church resembles the carcass of some huge monster cast upon its side, rearing its gigantic blanched ribs high above the buildings of the city. The outward casings are to be of white marble, the bars of the windows of bronze.
Next, crofting before the land gate and barracks, a superb edifice for strength, convenience, and cleanliness, you come down to the ramparts that defend the city on the side of the bay. If the prospect to the ocean is solemn, that towards the main land is animated in the highest degree; the men of war ride in the eastern bosome of the bay; lower down the merchants are spread far and near; and close to the town an incredible number of barks, of various shapes and sizes, cover the surface of the water, some moored and some in motion, carrying goods to and fro. The opposite shore of Spain is studded with white houses, and enlivened by the towns of St Mary's, Port-real, and others, behind which, eastward, on a ridge of hills, stands Medina Sidonia, and further back rise the mountains of Granada. Westward, Rota closes the horizon, near which was anciently the island and city of Tartessus, now covered by the sea, but at low water some part of the ruins are still to be discerned. In a large bastion, jutting out into the bay, they have built the custom-house, the first story of which is level with the walk upon the walls. When it was resolved to erect a building so necessary to this great emporium of trade, the marquis di Squillace gave orders that no expense should be spared, and the most intelligent architects employed, in order to erect a monument, which by its taste and magnificence might excite the admiration of posterity: the result of these precautions proved a piece of vile architecture, composed of the worst of materials.
The stir here is prodigious during the last months of the stay of the flota. The packers possess the art of prefiguring goods to great perfection; but, as they pay the freight according to the cubic palms of each bale, they are apt to squeeze down the cloths and linens to very close and hard, as sometimes to render them unfit for use. The exportation of French luxuries abroad is enormous; Lyons furnishes most of them; England sends out bale goods; Brittany and the north linens. Every commercial nation has a consul resident at Cadiz; those of England and France are the only ones not allowed to have any concern in trade.
In 1596, Cadiz was taken, pillaged, and burnt by the English; but in 1702 it was attempted in conjunction with the Dutch, without success.