Halloween and the Haunting of Landport Tunnel, Gibraltar

Halloween 2018.

Gibraltar is shrouded in a thick cloak of cloud. Thunder and lightning have played out in the twilight and the sun has set into the purple gloom that was the horizon. The sky  is now darkened into an inky black and a mizzeling rain drenches the air.

None of this has dampened the enthusiasm of the Halloween revelers so far. While some - though I suspect just a very few - will have laid out a harvest basket, fresh-baked soda bread, a tray of soul cakes and lit a candle on a Samhain altar, most are enjoying what these days has become one of the calendar's foremost commercial festivals.

Sweet-sellers, costume shops and make up outlets will be working overtime counting the profits judging by the numbers of people out and about in fancy dress (incredibly gruesome, some of them) and the swag bags of sweets being sported by kids. It all seems to have been pretty good humoured fun so far. Dressing up, making mischief, visiting others and making offerings of food are traditions that go back to time immemorial, even if plastic, nylon and mass production lines of the Far East have taken over much of the effort.

The mood in the street so far this Halloween seems to be one of fun - young kids have been accompanied by grown ups and I was pleasantly surprised at the politeness of these miniature ghouls, witches and vampires. A bunch of teenagers, giggling and squealing and dressed to terrify, still managed to mumble a couple of apologies and 'excuse me's' when they bumped into me unexpectedly along a narrow pavement. Although I have to admit I found a chap looking like this a bit disconcerting:

My favourite costume so far were two rather sinister masked men. They were dressed in identical black trousers and hoodies, hoods drawn up, of course, their faces concealed in gold-coloured masks with blank expressions that were far more unnerving than any number of ghoulish rubber faces. All very good-natured so far and we'll find out from police reports just how wild the behaviour of some might have become.

Grand Casemates Square, at the entrance to Gibraltar's City Centre, was buzzing with costumed party-goers. Did they, I wondered, give a thought to just how blood-soaked the stone floor of that square has been for centuries? Have they ever noticed the odd patches of cold air in corners of the Square, even in the hottest of summer afternoons? Have they ever felt the tips of their  hair touched as if by an invisible  hand reaching out for them in desperation? I wondered if tonight, of all nights, when the veil between the world of the living and the world of the dead is lifted, would they hear the voices of those who perished at the gallows that had stood in the Square pleading for mercy?

Which leads me to Landport, at the northern end of Casemates. 

The Ghosts of Landport Tunnel

This is another creepy place, especially at night when there are fewer people walking through. I have often wondered if the buskers strumming their guitars in the tunnel had ever felt anything odd, or unnerving. Something like a stifling pressure between the shoulder blades, or a sense of anger, desperation - yes, that's it, a draining desperation that seems to leak out of the walls and penetrate the air till it shrouds you as you walk through, hurriedly, perhaps, because this short-cut from the town centre to the main road leading out of Gibraltar is just not somewhere you ever want to hang around.

It is only recently that I have heard one or two grim stories about Landport that might explain why the place is so creepy, even on a hot, summer evening.

Gibraltar was a fortress for much of the past few hundred years. It was also hot, uncomfortable, suffering frequently from the grim deaths caused by yellow fever and cholera and other illnesses brought by the various fleets that docked here. To keep the troops stationed here under control, the commanders would exert an iron discipline. Casemates Square was a place where gatherings were easy. It was at one time surrounded by barracks and it was chosen as the perfect spot for public executions. Casemates Square was a scene of torture, floggings, hangings - death. 

Guarding the entrance of the City, Casemates Square and Landport Tunnel were scenes of battle, places where many people died from horrible injuries. In archaeological digs in more recent decades, a number of human remains have been found around the entrance to Landport Tunnel.

The doors at Landport Tunnel were also the scene of a particularly nasty execution in the early days of the British occupation of Gibraltar. There had been a mutiny by some troops utterly unhappy at the rather grim conditions of their service. They shot their commanding officer and tried to escape from Gibraltar, making a bid for freedom by heading towards the isthmus. 

But they were caught, and as punishment as well as to set an example to the rest of the troops, the two leaders of the mutiny were flayed alive. As they died in terrible pain, their skins were nailed to the doors of Landport. It is said that the stench of their rotting skins pervades the night from time to time, and their distress can still be felt in the air through the Tunnel.

It is also said that the ghost of a very angry man haunts the tunnel, and that he tries to make himself noticed by plucking at people as they walk past. Some people say they feel as if they have been tapped on the shoulder or had their hair lightly pulled. Others say they just sense a great deal of disquiet as they walk through the tunnel from one end to the other. But it is rare for anyone to see him.

Grim, ghastly and the perfect tale for a Gibraltarian Halloween!