Nothing offends a Spaniard, particularly in Andalusia, more than to insinuate even that he is in any way connected with the Moors. Should you through doubt ask a Spaniard to what country he belongs, he answers that he is a pure and legitimate Castilian, not intending to say that he is a native of either of the Castiles or that he was born in wedlock, but giving you to understand that his veins are not contaminated with any mixture of Moorish blood. Yet in Tarifa, where they are most particular on this point, they still continue a Moorish custom peculiar to that town and not practised, I believe, in any other part of Spain. The ladies wear a narrow shawl or strip of silk, called a mantilla, generally black; the centre of this strip is placed on the crown of the head, the ends hanging down in front of the shoulders, the deep fringe, with which they are trimmed, reaching close to the ankle. So far this dress is common throughout Spain; but in Tarifa the ladies cross the mantilla in front of their faces, by which the whole countenance is concealed, with the exception of one eye; this is done by dexterously lapping the mantilla across at the waist, and so gracefully that the movement is scarcely perceptible. I have seen many English and even Spanish ladies of the other provinces endeavour to imitate this sudden and graceful movement, but never without awkwardness; whereas every female in Tarifa accomplishes it in a moment. This temporary disguise is resorted to when the ladies go out to walk; and so perfect is the concealment and the dress of the ladies so much alike, that the most intimate acquaintances pass each other unknown. Thus accidents may happen and husbands fail to know their own wives.
Spanish ladies in general are very fine figures, for which reason, as I have been told, their under garments, far from flowing, are very narrow, and tied down the front with many knots of fine silk ribbon.
The order for the flank companies to join headquarters having arrived, after a long and happy sojourn we bade a final adieu to this pleasant and hospitable little town, and proceeded to Gibraltar.
After remaining a few days in Gibraltar to exchange our tattered Barossa clothing for a new outfit, which the flank companies had no opportunity of doing previously, the regiment sailed for Lisbon on July 10th, on board two men-of-war; but a calm setting in, we were carried by the current to Ceuta on the African coast. Dropping anchor, the officers landed to dine with our old friends, the 2nd Battalion 4th or King’s Own, who were quartered there; but the weather promising fair, Blue Peter and a gun summoned us on board before the cloth was removed.