The island of Minorca lies in the Mediterranean Sea, about sixty leagues southward from the coast of Catalonia, in the fortieth degree of north latitude. It is about thirty-three miles long, and in breadth from ten to thirteen, containing about 236 square miles. It is divided into four terminos or districts, that of Mahon, of Alajon, or Mercadad and Fereria, and of Ciudadella. The chief courts of justice were held at Ciudadella till the English obtained the island, who, considering Mahon as the town of most importance on account of its harbour and the fort of St. Philip, made it the capital.

Minorca being a commodious station for ships employed in the Mediterranean, was first conquered by the first naval power, the Phoenicians or Carthaginians, from whom it was taken by Metellus the Roman.2 It was seized in 421 by the northern nations, that had conquered Spain, who held it about three hundred years. The Moors then made a descent upon it from Africa, and conquered it. Charlemain seized it in 801, but the Moors recovered it about six years afterwards, and established a Mahometan king over the Balearic Islands, with the title of King of Majorca. This kingdom continued a long time to infest the Mediterranean with rovers,3 and kept the coasts of the neighbouring continent in perpetual terror.

At length James the first, king of Aragon, wearied and exasperated with continual injuries and vain remonstrances, resolved to suppress this Mahometan persecution; and invading Majorca with twenty thousand men, took Palma, the capital by assault on the 31st of December, 1229. Minorca became by stipulation tributary to him about three years afterwards.

In 12894 Alphonso, King of Aragon,5 determined to make a complete conquest of Minorca. The Moors obtained succours from Barbary, and omitted no preparations for a vigorous defense; but, being defeated with great slaughter in two battles, they retired to mount Agatha, a naked rock of great height, well fortified and stored, and accessible only by a narrow passage. Hither they were pursued; but the assailants, however resolute and eager, were always repulsed. Famine at last supplied the inefficacy of the sword; Agatha was surrendered, and in 1287, the Moors of Minorca became slaves to the Spaniards on the 17th of January, which is still observed there as a high festival.

Minorca continued a province of Spain to the year 1708, when general Stanhope landed with two thousand men, and when they had with great difficulty brought up their artillery, they in a few days, with the loss of only forty men, obtained possession of the island, though there were a thousand men in garrison at the castle of St. Philip.6 At the peace of Utrecht Minorca was granted to the English, and has remained in their hands till now without disturbance.

The inhabitants capitulated for the continuance of their old laws and customs, though inconvenient and oppressive; and indeed it was natural for a people little acquainted with the state of other countries, and conquered by men whom they considered as heretics, and had been taught to dread and hate, as the most mischievous of the human race, to prefer any condition, of which they knew all the good and bad, before that which the caprice of a conqueror might prescribe.7 They have one principal tribunal, called the court of regal government; to this appeals may be made from the particular courts of the several districts, which are governed by Jurats or magistrates chosen yearly. A general council is called on great occasions. The ecclesiastical court is held at Ciudadella by the vicar-general. The governor is patron of all the benefices.

The natives of Minorca are computed to be about twenty seven thousand, of which nearly three hundred are ecclesiastics. Their country is able to maintain a far greater number; but having been long oppressed and plundered, they have not much inclination to industry. Their religion is popery in its grossest degree of superstition;8 they are intirely in subjection to the priests, who enter any house unquestioned, and procure large contributions for the souls in purgatory, and all other purposes of religion.

The carnival or festival before Lent is their time of pleasure; no trade is exercised during this happy season, but all the day and night is filled up with ceremonies of religion, or spectacles of entertainment.

When they dance, which is their usual diversion, as indeed of all nations civil and barbarous,9 the man endeavors to move with great agility and strength, and the lady, with much solemnity and slowness, her eyes being always fixed upon the ground.

They practice few exercises; they never ride but for journeys, and then commonly on mules or asses, which are there of a large size. Those that hunt or shoot commonly propose to themselves the profit, rather than the pleasure.

The common people are disarmed, but the gentlemen are allowed swords and fire-arms, and are at liberty to take game like the English officers.

The common dress of the men is a cloke, a loose short coat, a wastecoat, a worsted girdle, a coarse shirt, breeches reaching to the ancles, with stockings and flat-heeled shoes, a red cap and a flapped hat. The gentlemen wear black clothes, of the English fashion, with wigs, hats, and swords. When they are in mourning they draw a covering of black cloth over the scabbard.

The women wear a close wastecoat of black stuff, with a coloured petticoat, and a robazilla or kind of hood which is pinned under the chin and falls down the shoulders; their hair is gathered behind in a ribband, and hangs almost to their feet; the dress of ceremony is the black veil; they marry at about fourteen, and begin to decay at five and twenty.1

The Minorcans have scarcely any literature2 among them; they are taught in the convents a little grammar, which they soon forget; and in the sciences are so ignorant, that not many of them attain the principles of arithmetic. There are very few women that can read or write.

They are generally abstemious and unexpensive, and seldom make entertainments, or invite guests to their houses. Having no knowledge of books, and being excluded from all other means of information, they are no great talkers; and the men, being habitually jealous, do not much covet the acquaintance of strangers.

The women appear so seldom, that the best suit of clothes descends from mother to daughter through several generations. They are employed in domestic business, spinning and needle-work.

They are, even to the lowest and poorest among them, clean and neat in their houses; they rise early, dine at noon, and amuse themselves some hours in the evening.

Minorca, though by no means to be celebrated for its fertility, yet affords many species of both animal and vegetable productions, and might supply yet more, if a little care were used for their propagation. But the English, who are there, think only how to get home, and the natives have probably little encouragement to make improvements, which they consider as enjoyed more by the heretical garrison than by themselves.3

Their horses are small, and less used for travel than mules, which are more sure-footed, and will fare more hardly, but are extremely vitious.4 The cows likewise are small, and both beef and mutton are very bad, but the pork and kid’s flesh is delicious. They have multitudes of rabits, but no deer or hares. There are land tortoises in great numbers, and many hedge-hogs.

They have other animals less agreeable. Lizards on every wall without numbers, with snakes, vipers, and scorpions, and centipedes that swarm after sunset in every dwelling, and vanish on the dawn of day.

Of birds they have the eagle, who builds on inaccessible rocks; the vulture, with the owl, and every kind of the hawk. There are many swallows and martins, with great plenty of the red-legged partridges,a quails, wild-pigeons, ringdoves, woodcocks, snipes, and wild ducks.

Of fish, being surrounded by the sea, they have almost every species.5

Their vegetable productions are very numerous, as may be expected in such a latitude: their vineyards make the greatest part of their wealth; they have olives, but they make neither pickles nor oil; they have mastic trees, but they do not gather the gum. Their timber is chiefly from the ilex or evergreen oak, and they use the tops of the myrtle for tanning leather.

Of fossils6 they have many varieties. Vast masses of granite are every where to be found, and marble of every variegation lies on the surface of the ground.7

Such is the state of the island of Minorca, but a more particular account will be required by the reader of the Port of Mahon, for the sake of which the island has been hitherto kept. This port which has its name from the town that overlooks it, opens in the southeast part of the island with a narrow entrance, which soon widens into a bason a league long, and half a league broad, deep enough to contain the largest ships, and completely sheltered from storms, and from enemies. So that it is a place of considerable value to a distant maritime power, as it supplies a secure station to a fleet of men of war, or a retreat for merchants.

The entrance into this port is defended by St. Philips Castle, which is the principal fortification, on the fate of which depends that of the island. It stands on a neck of land, and extends its outworks to the sea on either side. It is well furnished with large guns, and the whole fortification is undermined. “Of the utmost advantage to this place,” says Mr. Armstrong, “are the capacious galleries that are cut out of the rock and extend themselves under the covert-way, throughout all the works. These subterraneans afford shelter and quarters to the garrison, impenetrable by shot or shells, and not to be come at but by cutting a way to them through the living rock, against which they are provided with countermines at proper distances.”8

After this account of the fort it will be proper to give Mr. Armstrong’s opinion of the resistance which it can make to a siege. Mr. Armstrong was an engineer by profession, and therefore his opinion must be of great weight. “Our strength,” says he, “is about two thousand four hundred effective men,” which likewise is the present number of the garrison upon the most favourable supposition; “Of these only one third can be put on duty at once, and we have a vast extent of works to defend. Then an allowance must be made for detachments to be drawn from these for preserving the platforms, repairing the damage done by the enemy, and other emergencies, besides a considerable abatement to be expected from the sick, wounded, and killed, not to say deserters. These things considered, though I make no doubt of the goodness of the troops, yet, I fear, that if we were not suddenly relieved by our fleet, a powerful enemy, well provided for such an undertaking, would too soon make himself master of the place.”9

There is reason to believe, that St. Philip is now besieged by a powerful enemy, well provided,1 and, I think, it is made too plain in the quotation that resistance cannot be long. Whether our fleet will arrive soon enough to save it, or whether we are not in danger of having the fleet overpowered it is not possible to determine, nor prudent to predict. If we should destroy the fleet and reinforce the garrison, the besiegers will then be themselves besieged, for we can supply the fort at pleasure, and an army before it must moulder away by desertion and diseases. If they should have taken the fort before the arrival of our fleet, yet, if even then their fleet should be destroyed, they will pay dearly for their purchase, for it will not be easy to furnish them with provisions, while we are masters of the sea.

There is, I fear, one great advantage on their side. The natives will probably favour them, as they have no Anstruther2 among them, and are of their own religion. The time is now come, when it will appear, that oppression is folly as well as wickedness, and that whoever expects fidelity from a conquered people, must send men like Kane3 to govern them. A people taxed, harrassed, and insulted, will always be desirous of changing their condition, and the new comer will be always welcome, since they cannot fear him more, and they will hate him less.

It is always good to consider the worst that can happen, and therefore I have amused myself with considering what we shall really lose by losing Minorca.

This island was taken in 1708, and has therefore been in our possession about forty-eight years. It is generally garrisoned with about three thousand men, at least the whole number of English residing there, soldiers, women and servants amounts to full three thousand. Of these, it is reasonable to believe that every tenth person dies yearly of the climate, the sea, the diet, or something that would not have happened to them at home. So that even in time of peace Minorca is kept at the expence, modestly computed, of three hundred lives a year, which in forty-eight years amount to fourteen thousand four hundred.

Mr. Armstrong computes that the Minorcans lose upon the balance of trade annually fifty-three thousand one hundred pounds, and that this loss is almost compensated by the pay of the English troops spent amongst them. We must therefore send to Minorca at least fifty thousand pounds a year, which in forty-eight years make two millions and four hundred thousand pounds.

Of the advantages arising from this place, I can collect no such accurate account, but confess, that I am not able to image to myself any that in forty-eight years have been the equivalent to so much money and so many lives. It is said to increase our reputation in the Levant, but that reputation neither makes us much richer nor much happier.

If the distribution of empire were in my hands, I should indeed rather give up Gibraltar, the possession of which will always keep us at variance with Spain, than Minorca which may be less invidiously retained. But I know not whether either is worth its charge, and by losing them, I am not sure that we shall suffer any thing more than that vexation which accompanies disgrace, and the pain of doing that against our will, which we should have been glad to do if no violence had compelled us.