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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/35676-0.txt b/35676-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f66b3ea --- /dev/null +++ b/35676-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,13914 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Bible in Spain - Vol. 2 [of 2], by George +Borrow, Edited by Ulick Ralph Burke + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Bible in Spain - Vol. 2 [of 2] + + +Author: George Borrow + +Editor: Ulick Ralph Burke + +Editor: Herbert W. Greene + +Release Date: March 25, 2011 [eBook #35676] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BIBLE IN SPAIN - VOL. 2 [OF +2]*** + + +Transcribed from the 1896 John Murray edition by David Price, email +ccx074@pglaf.org + + [Picture: Toledo] + + + + + + THE BIBLE IN SPAIN; + + + OR, THE JOURNEYS, ADVENTURES, AND + IMPRISONMENTS OF AN ENGLISHMAN + IN AN ATTEMPT TO CIRCULATE + THE SCRIPTURES IN + THE PENINSULA + + BY + GEORGE BORROW. + + * * * * * + + _A NEW EDITION_, _WITH NOTES AND A GLOSSARY_, + BY ULICK RALPH BURKE, M.A., + AUTHOR OF “A HISTORY OF SPAIN,” ETC. + + * * * * * + + _IN TWO VOLUMES_. + VOL. II. + + * * * * * + + WITH MAP AND ENGRAVINGS. + + * * * * * + + LONDON: + JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET. + 1896. + + * * * * * + + LONDON: + PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, + STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS. + + + + +CONTENTS OF VOL. II. + + PAGE + CHAPTER XXIX. +Arrival at Padron—Projected Enterprise—The Alquilador—Breach 1 +of Promise—An Odd Companion—A Plain Story—Rugged Paths—The +Desertion—The Pony—A Dialogue—Unpleasant Situation—The +Estadea—Benighted—The Hut—The Traveller’s Pillow + CHAPTER XXX. +Autumnal Morning—The World’s End—Corcuvion—Duyo—The Cape—A 20 +Whale—The Outer Bay—The Arrest—The Fisher-Magistrate—Calros +Rey—Hard of Belief—Where is your Passport?—The Beach—A Mighty +Liberal—The Handmaid—The Grand Baintham—Eccentric +Book—Hospitality + CHAPTER XXXI. +Corunna—Crossing the Bay—Ferrol—The Dock-yard—Where are we 41 +now?—Greek Ambassador—Lantern-Light—The +Ravine—Viveiro—Evening—Marsh and Quagmire—Fair Words and Fair +Money—The Leathern Girth—Eyes of Lynx—The Knavish Guide + CHAPTER XXXII. +Martin of Rivadeo—The Factious Mare—Asturians—Luarca—The 57 +Seven Bellotas—Hermits—The Asturian’s Tale—Strange Guests—The +Big Servant—Batuschca + CHAPTER XXXIII. +Oviedo—The Ten Gentlemen—The Swiss again—Modest Request—The 70 +Robbers—Episcopal Benevolence—The Cathedral—Portrait of +Feijoo + CHAPTER XXXIV. +Departure from Oviedo—Villa Viciosa—The Young Man of the 82 +Inn—Antonio’s Tale—The General and his Family—Woful +Tidings—To-morrow we die—San Vicente—Santander—An +Harangue—Flinter the Irishman + CHAPTER XXXV. +Departure from Santander—The Night Alarm—The Black Pass 95 + CHAPTER XXXVI. +State of Affairs at Madrid—The New Ministry—Pope of Rome—The 99 +Bookseller of Toledo—Sword-blades—Houses of Toledo—The +Forlorn Gypsy—Proceedings at Madrid—Another Servant + CHAPTER XXXVII. +Euscarra—Basque not Irish—Sanscrit and Tartar Dialects—A 111 +Vowel Language—Popular Poetry—The Basques—Their +Persons—Basque Women + CHAPTER XXXVIII. +The Prohibition—Gospel Persecuted—Charge of Sorcery—Ofalia 121 + CHAPTER XXXIX. +The Two Gospels—The Alguazil—The Warrant—The Good Maria—The 127 +Arrest—Sent to Prison—Reflections—The Reception—The Prison +Room—Redress demanded + CHAPTER XL. +Ofalia—The Juez—Carcel de la Corte—Sunday in Prison—Robber 141 +Dress—Father and Son—Characteristic Behaviour—The +Frenchman—Prison Allowance—Valley of the Shadow—Pure +Castilian—Balseiro—The Cave—Robber Glory + CHAPTER XLI. +Maria Diaz—Priestly Vituperation—Antonio’s Visit—Antonio at 159 +Service—A Scene—Benedict Mol—Wandering in Spain—The Four +Evangelien + CHAPTER XLII. +Liberation from Prison—The Apology—Human Nature—The Greek’s 169 +Return—Church of Rome—Light of Scripture—Archbishop of +Toledo—An Interview—Stones of Price—A Resolution—The Foreign +Language—Benedict’s Farewell—Treasure Hunt at +Compostella—Truth and Fiction + CHAPTER XLIII. +Villa Seca—Moorish House—The Puchera—The Rustic 185 +Council—Polite Ceremonial—The Flower of Spain—The Bridge of +Azeca—The Ruined Castle—Taking the Field—Demand for the +Word—The Old Peasant—The Curate and Blacksmith—Cheapness of +the Scriptures + CHAPTER XLIV. +Aranjuez—A Warning—A Night Adventure—A Fresh 202 +Expedition—Segovia—Abades—Factious Curas—Lopez in +Prison—Rescue of Lopez + CHAPTER XLV. +Return to Spain—Seville—A Hoary Persecutor—Manchegan 214 +Prophetess—Antonio’s Dream + CHAPTER XLVI. +Work of Distribution resumed—Adventure at Cobeña—Power of the 220 +Clergy—Rural Authorities—Fuente la Higuera—Victoriano’s +Mishap—Village Prison—The Rope—Antonio’s Errand—Antonio at +Mass + CHAPTER XLVII. +Termination of our Rural Labours—Alarm of the Clergy—A New 232 +Experiment—Success at Madrid—Goblin-Alguazil—Staff of +Office—The Corregidor—An Explanation—The Pope in England—New +Testament expounded—Works of Luther + CHAPTER XLVIII. +Projected Journey—A Scene of Blood—The Friar—Seville—Beauties 245 +of Seville—Orange Trees and Flowers—Murillo—The Guardian +Angel—Dionysius—My Coadjutors—Demand for the Bible + CHAPTER XLIX. +The Solitary House—The Dehesa—Johannes 258 +Chrysostom—Manuel—Bookselling at Seville—Dionysius and the +Priests—Athens and Rome—Proselytism—Seizure of +Testaments—Departure from Seville + CHAPTER L. +Night on the Guadalquivir—Gospel Light—Bonanza—Strand of San 271 +Lucar—Andalusian Scenery—History of a Chest—Cosas de los +Ingleses—The Two Gypsies—The Driver—The Red Nightcap—The +Steam-Boat—Christian Language + CHAPTER LI. +Cadiz—The Fortifications—The Consul-General—Characteristic 286 +Anecdote—Catalan Steamer—Trafalgar—Alonzo Guzman—Gibil +Muza—Orestes Frigate—The Hostile Lion—Works of the +Creator—Lizard of the Rock—The Concourse—Queen of the +Waters—Broken Prayer + CHAPTER LII. +The Jolly Hosteler—Aspirants for Glory—A 305 +Portrait—Hamáles—Solomons—An Expedition—The Yeoman +Soldier—The Excavations—The Pull by the Skirt—Judah and his +Father—Judah’s Pilgrimage—The Bushy Beard—The False +Moors—Judah and the King’s Son—Premature Old Age + CHAPTER LIII. +Genoese Mariners—Saint Michael’s Cave—Midnight Abysses—Young 326 +American—A Slave Proprietor—The Fairy Man—Infidelity + CHAPTER LIV. +Again on Board—The Strange Visage—The Haji—Setting Sail—The 335 +Two Jews—American Vessel—Tangier—Adun Oulem—The Struggle—The +Forbidden Thing + CHAPTER LV. +The Mole—The Two Moors—Djmah of Tangier—House of God—British 348 +Consul—Curious Spectacle—The Moorish House—Joanna Correa—Ave +Maria + CHAPTER LVI. +The Mahasni—Sin Samani—The Bazaar—Moorish Saints—See the 359 +Ayana!—The Prickly Fig—Jewish Graves—The Place of +Carcases—The Stable Boy—Horses of the Moslem—Dar-dwag + CHAPTER LVII. +Strange Trio—The Mulatto—The Peace-offering—Moors of 373 +Granada—Vive la Guadeloupe—The Moors—Pascual Fava—Blind +Algerine—The Retreat +GLOSSARY 385 + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. + + VOL. II. +TOLEDO. _Etched by_ MANESSE _Frontispiece_ +SEGOVIA. _From a Sketch by_ A. H. HALLAM MURRAY _To face_ 210 + + _Engraved by_ MANESSE + +CHAPTER XXIX. + + +Arrival at Padron—Projected Enterprise—The Alquilador—Breach of +Promise—An Odd Companion—A Plain Story—Rugged Paths—The Desertion—The +Pony—A Dialogue—Unpleasant Situation—The Estadea—Benighted—The Hut—The +Traveller’s Pillow. + +I arrived at Padron late in the evening, on my return from Pontevedra and +Vigo. It was my intention at this place to send my servant and horses +forward to Santiago, and to hire a guide to Cape Finisterre. It would be +difficult to assign any plausible reason for the ardent desire which I +entertained to visit this place; but I remembered that last year I had +escaped almost by a miracle from shipwreck and death on the rocky sides +of this extreme point of the Old World, and I thought that to convey the +Gospel to a place so wild and remote might perhaps be considered an +acceptable pilgrimage in the eyes of my Maker. True it is that but one +copy remained of those which I had brought with me on this last journey; +but this reflection, far from discouraging me in my projected enterprise, +produced the contrary effect, as I called to mind that, ever since the +Lord revealed Himself to man, it has seemed good to Him to accomplish the +greatest ends by apparently the most insufficient means; and I reflected +that this one copy might serve as an instrument for more good than the +four thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine copies of the edition of +Madrid. + +I was aware that my own horses were quite incompetent to reach +Finisterre, as the roads or paths lie through stony ravines, and over +rough and shaggy hills, and therefore determined to leave them behind +with Antonio, whom I was unwilling to expose to the fatigues of such a +journey. I lost no time in sending for an _alquilador_, or person who +lets out horses, and informing him of my intention. He said he had an +excellent mountain pony at my disposal, and that he himself would +accompany me; but at the same time observed, that it was a terrible +journey for man and horse, and that he expected to be paid accordingly. +I consented to give him what he demanded, but on the express condition +that he would perform his promise of attending me himself, as I was +unwilling to trust myself four or five days amongst the hills with any +low fellow of the town whom he might select, and who it was very possible +might play me some evil turn. He replied by the term invariably used by +the Spaniards when they see doubt or distrust exhibited: “_No tenga usted +cuidado_, {2} I will go myself.” Having thus arranged the matter +perfectly satisfactorily, as I thought, I partook of a slight supper, and +shortly afterwards retired to repose. + +I had requested the _alquilador_ to call me the next morning at three +o’clock; he, however, did not make his appearance till five, having, I +suppose, overslept himself, which was indeed my own case. I arose in a +hurry, dressed, put a few things in a bag, not forgetting the Testament, +which I had resolved to present to the inhabitants of Finisterre. I then +sallied forth and saw my friend the _alquilador_, who was holding by the +bridle the pony or _jaca_ which was destined to carry me in my +expedition. It was a beautiful little animal, apparently strong and full +of life, without one single white hair in its whole body, which was black +as the plumage of the crow. + +Behind it stood a strange-looking figure of the biped species, to whom, +however, at the moment, I paid little attention, but of whom I shall have +plenty to say in the sequel. + +Having asked the horse-lender whether he was ready to proceed, and being +answered in the affirmative, I bade adieu to Antonio, and putting the +pony in motion, we hastened out of the town, taking at first the road +which leads towards Santiago. Observing that the figure which I have +previously alluded to was following close at our heels, I asked the +_alquilador_ who it was, and the reason of its following us; to which he +replied that it was a servant of his, who would proceed a little way with +us and then return. So on we went at a rapid rate, till we were within a +quarter of a mile of the Convent of the Esclavitud, a little beyond which +he had informed me that we should have to turn off from the high-road; +but here he suddenly stopped short, and in a moment we were all at a +standstill. I questioned the guide as to the reason of this, but +received no answer. The fellow’s eyes were directed to the ground, and +he seemed to be counting with the most intense solicitude the prints of +the hoofs of the oxen, mules, and horses in the dust of the road. I +repeated my demand in a louder voice; when, after a considerable pause, +he somewhat elevated his eyes, without, however, looking me in the face, +and said that he believed that I entertained the idea that he himself was +to guide me to Finisterre, which if I did, he was very sorry for, the +thing being quite impossible, as he was perfectly ignorant of the way, +and, moreover, incapable of performing such a journey over rough and +difficult ground, as he was no longer the man he had been; and, over and +above all that, he was engaged that day to accompany a gentleman to +Pontevedra, who was at that moment expecting him. “But,” continued he, +“as I am always desirous of behaving like a _caballero_ to everybody, I +have taken measures to prevent your being disappointed. This person,” +pointing to the figure, “I have engaged to accompany you. He is a most +trustworthy person, and is well acquainted with the route to Finisterre, +having been thither several times with this very _jaca_ on which you are +mounted. He will, besides, be an agreeable companion to you on the way, +as he speaks French and English very well, and has been all over the +world.” The fellow ceased speaking at last; and I was so struck with his +craft, impudence, and villany, that some time elapsed before I could find +an answer. I then reproached him in the bitterest terms for his breach +of promise, and said that I was much tempted to return to the town +instantly, complain of him to the _alcalde_, and have him punished at any +expense. To which he replied, “Sir Cavalier, by so doing you will be +nothing nearer Finisterre, to which you seem so eager to get. Take my +advice, spur on the _jaca_, for you see it is getting late, and it is +twelve long leagues from hence to Corcuvion, where you must pass the +night; and from thence to Finisterre is no trifle. As for the man, _no +tenga usted cuidado_, he is the best guide in Galicia, speaks English and +French, and will bear you pleasant company.” + +By this time I had reflected that by returning to Padron I should indeed +be only wasting time, and that by endeavouring to have the fellow +punished no benefit would accrue to me; moreover, as he seemed to be a +scoundrel in every sense of the word, I might as well proceed in the +company of any person as in his. I therefore signified my intention of +proceeding, and told him to go back, in the Lord’s name, and repent of +his sins. But having gained one point, he thought he had best attempt +another; so placing himself about a yard before the _jaca_, he said that +the price which I had agreed to pay him for the loan of his horse (which, +by-the-by, was the full sum he had demanded) was by no means sufficient, +and that before I proceeded I must promise him two dollars more, adding +that he was either drunk or mad when he had made such a bargain. I was +now thoroughly incensed, and without a moment’s reflection, spurred the +_jaca_, which flung him down in the dust, and passed over him. Looking +back at the distance of a hundred yards, I saw him standing in the same +place, his hat on the ground, gazing after us, and crossing himself most +devoutly. His servant, or whatever he was, far from offering any +assistance to his principal, no sooner saw the _jaca _in motion than he +ran on by its side, without word or comment, further than striking +himself lustily on the thigh with his right palm. We soon passed the +Esclavitud, and presently afterwards turned to the left into a stony +broken path leading to fields of maize. We passed by several +farm-houses, and at last arrived at a dingle, the sides of which were +plentifully overgrown with dwarf oaks, and which slanted down to a small +dark river shaded with trees, which we crossed by a rude bridge. By this +time I had had sufficient time to scan my odd companion from head to +foot. His utmost height, had he made the most of himself, might perhaps +have amounted to five feet one inch; but he seemed somewhat inclined to +stoop. Nature had gifted him with an immense head, and placed it clean +upon his shoulders, for amongst the items of his composition it did not +appear that a neck had been included. Arms long and brawny swung at his +sides, and the whole of his frame was as strong built and powerful as a +wrestler’s; his body was supported by a pair of short but very nimble +legs. His face was very long, and would have borne some slight +resemblance to a human countenance had the nose been more visible, for +its place seemed to have been entirely occupied by a wry mouth and large +staring eyes. His dress consisted of three articles: an old and tattered +hat of the Portuguese kind, broad at the crown and narrow at the eaves, +something which appeared to be a shirt, and dirty canvas trousers. +Willing to enter into conversation with him, and remembering that the +_alquilador_ had informed me that he spoke languages, I asked him, in +English, if he had always acted in the capacity of guide. Whereupon he +turned his eyes with a singular expression upon my face, gave a loud +laugh, a long leap, and clapped his hands thrice above his head. +Perceiving that he did not understand me, I repeated my demand in French, +and was again answered by the laugh, leap, and clapping. At last he +said, in broken Spanish, “Master mine, speak Spanish in God’s name, and I +can understand you, and still better if you speak Gallegan, but I can +promise no more. I heard what the _alquilador_ told you, but he is the +greatest _embustero_ in the whole land, and deceived you then as he did +when he promised to accompany you. I serve him for my sins; but it was +an evil hour when I left the deep sea and turned guide.” He then +informed me that he was a native of Padron, and a mariner by profession, +having spent the greater part of his life in the Spanish navy, in which +service he had visited Cuba and many parts of the Spanish Americas, +adding, “when my master told you that I should bear you pleasant company +by the way, it was the only word of truth that has come from his mouth +for a month; and long before you reach Finisterre you will have rejoiced +that the servant, and not the master, went with you: he is dull and +heavy, but I am what you see.” He then gave two or three first-rate +somersaults, again laughed loudly, and clapped his hands. “You would +scarcely think,” he continued, “that I drove that little pony yesterday, +heavily laden, all the way from Corunna. We arrived at Padron at two +o’clock this morning; but we are nevertheless both willing and able to +undertake a fresh journey. _No tenga usted cuidado_, as my master said, +no one ever complains of that pony or of me.” In this kind of discourse +we proceeded a considerable way through a very picturesque country, until +we reached a beautiful village at the skirt of a mountain. “This +village,” said my guide, “is called Los Angeles, because its church was +built long since by the angels; they placed a beam of gold beneath it, +which they brought down from heaven, and which was once a rafter of God’s +own house. It runs all the way under the ground from hence to the +cathedral of Compostella.” + +Passing through the village, which he likewise informed me possessed +baths, and was much visited by the people of Santiago, we shaped our +course to the north-west, and by so doing doubled a mountain which rose +majestically over our heads, its top crowned with bare and broken rocks, +whilst on our right, on the other side of a spacious valley, was a high +range connected with the mountains to the northward of Saint James. On +the summit of this range rose high embattled towers, which my guide +informed me were those of Altamira, an ancient and ruined castle, +formerly the principal residence in this province of the counts of that +name. Turning now due west, we were soon at the bottom of a steep and +rugged pass, which led to more elevated regions. The ascent cost us +nearly half an hour, and the difficulties of the ground were such that I +more than once congratulated myself on having left my own horses behind, +and being mounted on the gallant little pony, which, accustomed to such +paths, scrambled bravely forward, and eventually brought us in safety to +the top of the ascent. + +Here we entered a Gallegan cabin, or _choza_, for the purpose of +refreshing the animal and ourselves. The quadruped ate some maize, +whilst we two bipeds regaled ourselves on some _broa_ and _aguardiente_, +which a woman whom we found in the hut placed before us. I walked out +for a few minutes to observe the aspect of the country, and on my return +found my guide fast asleep on the bench where I had left him. He sat +bolt upright, his back supported against the wall, and his legs +pendulous, within three inches of the ground, being too short to reach +it. I remained gazing upon him for at least five minutes, whilst he +enjoyed slumbers seemingly as quiet and profound as those of death +itself. His face brought powerfully to my mind some of those uncouth +visages of saints and abbots which are occasionally seen in the niches of +the walls of ruined convents. There was not the slightest gleam of +vitality in his countenance, which for colour and rigidity might have +been of stone, and which was as rude and battered as one of the stone +heads at Icolmkill, which have braved the winds of twelve hundred years. +I continued gazing on his face till I became almost alarmed, concluding +that life might have departed from its harassed and fatigued tenement. +On my shaking him rather roughly by the shoulder he slowly awoke, opening +his eyes with a stare, and then closing them again. For a few moments he +was evidently unconscious of where he was. On my shouting to him, +however, and inquiring whether he intended to sleep all day, instead of +conducting me to Finisterre, he dropped upon his legs, snatched up his +hat, which lay on the table, and instantly ran out of the door, +exclaiming, “Yes, yes, I remember; follow me, captain, and I will lead +you to Finisterre in no time.” I looked after him, and perceived that he +was hurrying at a considerable pace in the direction in which we had +hitherto been proceeding. “Stop,” said I, “stop! will you leave me here +with the pony? Stop; we have not paid the reckoning. Stop!” He, +however, never turned his head for a moment, and in less than a minute +was out of sight. The pony, which was tied to a crib at one end of the +cabin, began now to neigh terrifically, to plunge, and to erect its tail +and mane in a most singular manner. It tore and strained at the halter +till I was apprehensive that strangulation would ensue. “Woman,” I +exclaimed, “where are you, and what is the meaning of all this?” But the +hostess had likewise disappeared, and though I ran about the _choza_, +shouting myself hoarse, no answer was returned. The pony still continued +to scream and to strain at the halter more violently than ever. “Am I +beset with lunatics?” I cried, and flinging down a _peseta_ on the table, +unloosed the halter, and attempted to introduce the bit into the mouth of +the animal. This, however, I found impossible to effect. Released from +the halter, the pony made at once for the door, in spite of all the +efforts which I could make to detain it. “If you abandon me,” said I, “I +am in a pretty situation; but there is a remedy for everything!” with +which words I sprang into the saddle, and in a moment more the creature +was bearing me at a rapid gallop in the direction, as I supposed, of +Finisterre. My position, however diverting to the reader, was rather +critical to myself. I was on the back of a spirited animal, over which I +had no control, dashing along a dangerous and unknown path. I could not +discover the slightest vestige of my guide, nor did I pass any one from +whom I could derive any information. Indeed, the speed of the animal was +so great, that even in the event of my meeting or overtaking a passenger, +I could scarcely have hoped to exchange a word with him. “Is the pony +trained to this work?” said I, mentally. “Is he carrying me to some den +of banditti, where my throat will be cut, or does he follow his master by +instinct?” Both of these suspicions I, however, soon abandoned. The +pony’s speed relaxed; he appeared to have lost the road. He looked about +uneasily: at last, coming to a sandy spot, he put his nostrils to the +ground, and then suddenly flung himself down, and wallowed in true pony +fashion. I was not hurt, and instantly made use of this opportunity to +slip the bit into his mouth, which previously had been dangling beneath +his neck; I then remounted in quest of the road. + +This I soon found, and continued my way for a considerable time. The +path lay over a moor, patched with heath and furze, and here and there +strewn with large stones, or rather rocks. The sun had risen high in the +firmament, and burned fiercely. I passed several people, men and women, +who gazed at me with surprise, wondering, probably, what a person of my +appearance could be about, without a guide, in so strange a place. I +inquired of two females whom I met whether they had seen my guide; but +they either did not or would not understand me, and, exchanging a few +words with each other in one of the hundred dialects of the Gallegan, +passed on. Having crossed the moor, I came rather abruptly upon a +convent, overhanging a deep ravine, at the bottom of which brawled a +rapid stream. + +It was a beautiful and picturesque spot: the sides of the ravine were +thickly clothed with wood, and on the other side a tall black hill +uplifted itself. The edifice was large, and apparently deserted. +Passing by it, I presently reached a small village, as deserted, to all +appearance, as the convent, for I saw not a single individual, nor so +much as a dog to welcome me with his bark. I proceeded, however, until I +reached a fountain, the waters of which gushed from a stone pillar into a +trough. Seated upon this last, his arms folded, and his eyes fixed upon +the neighbouring mountain, I beheld a figure which still frequently +recurs to my thoughts, especially when asleep and oppressed by the +nightmare. This figure was my runaway guide. + +_Myself_.—Good day to you, my gentleman. The weather is hot, and yonder +water appears delicious. I am almost tempted to dismount and regale +myself with a slight draught. + +_Guide_.—Your worship can do no better. The day is, as you say, hot; you +can do no better than drink a little of this water. I have myself just +drunk. I would not, however, advise you to give that pony any; it +appears heated and blown. + +_Myself_.—It may well be so. I have been galloping at least two leagues +in pursuit of a fellow who engaged to guide me to Finisterre, but who +deserted me in a most singular manner; so much so, that I almost believe +him to be a thief, and no true man. You do not happen to have seen him? + +_Guide_.—What kind of a man might he be? + +_Myself_.—A short, thick fellow, very much like yourself, with a hump +upon his back, and, excuse me, of a very ill-favoured countenance. + +_Guide_.—Ha, ha! I know him. He ran with me to this fountain, where he +has just left me. That man, Sir Cavalier, is no thief. If he is +anything at all, he is a _Nuveiro_ {12}—a fellow who rides upon the +clouds, and is occasionally whisked away by a gust of wind. Should you +ever travel with that man again, never allow him more than one glass of +anise at a time, or he will infallibly mount into the clouds and leave +you, and then he will ride and run till he comes to a water-brook, or +knocks his head against a fountain—then one draught, and he is himself +again. So you are going to Finisterre, Sir Cavalier. Now it is singular +enough, that a cavalier much of your appearance engaged me to conduct him +there this morning; I, however, lost him on the way; so it appears to me +our best plan to travel together until you find your own guide and I find +my own master. + +It might be about two o’clock in the afternoon that we reached a long and +ruinous bridge, seemingly of great antiquity, and which, as I was +informed by my guide, was called the bridge of Don Alonzo. It crossed a +species of creek, or rather frith, for the sea was at no considerable +distance, and the small town of Noyo lay at our right. “When we have +crossed that bridge, captain,” said my guide, “we shall be in an unknown +country, for I have never been farther than Noyo, and as for Finisterre, +so far from having been there, I never heard of such a place; and though +I have inquired of two or three people since we have been upon this +expedition, they know as little about it as I do. Taking all things, +however, into consideration, it appears to me that the best thing we can +do is to push forward to Corcuvion, which is five mad leagues from hence, +and which we may perhaps reach ere nightfall, if we can find the way or +get any one to direct us; for, as I told you before, I know nothing about +it.” “To fine hands have I confided myself,” said I: “however, we had +best, as you say, push forward to Corcuvion, where, peradventure, we may +hear something of Finisterre, and find a guide to conduct us.” +Whereupon, with a hop, skip, and a jump, he again set forward at a rapid +pace, stopping occasionally at a _choza_, for the purpose, I suppose, of +making inquiries, though I understood scarcely anything of the jargon in +which he addressed the people, and in which they answered him. + +We were soon in an extremely wild and hilly country, scrambling up and +down ravines, wading brooks, and scratching our hands and faces with +brambles, on which grew a plentiful crop of wild mulberries, to gather +some of which we occasionally made a stop. Owing to the roughness of the +way, we made no great progress. The pony followed close at the back of +the guide, so near, indeed, that its nose almost touched his shoulder. +The country grew wilder and wilder, and, since we had passed a +water-mill, we had lost all trace of human habitation. The mill stood at +the bottom of a valley shaded by large trees, and its wheels were turning +with a dismal and monotonous noise. “Do you think we shall reach +Corcuvion tonight?” said I to the guide, as we emerged from this valley +to a savage moor, which appeared of almost boundless extent. + +_Guide_.—I do not, I do not. We shall in no manner reach Corcuvion +to-night, and I by no means like the appearance of this moor. The sun is +rapidly sinking, and then, if there come on a haze, we shall meet the +_Estadéa_. + +_Myself_.—What do you mean by the _Estadéa_? + +_Guide_.—What do I mean by the _Estadéa_? My master asks me what I mean +by the _Estadinha_. {14} I have met the _Estadinha_ but once, and it was +upon a moor something like this. I was in company with several women, +and a thick haze came on, and suddenly a thousand lights shone above our +heads in the haze, and there was a wild cry, and the women fell to the +ground screaming, ‘_Estadéa_! _Estadéa_!’ and I myself fell to the +ground crying out, ‘_Estadinha_!’ The _Estadéa_ are the spirits of the +dead which ride upon the haze, bearing candles in their hands. I tell +you frankly, my master, that if we meet the assembly of the souls, I +shall leave you at once, and then I shall run and run till I drown myself +in the sea, somewhere about Muros. We shall not reach Corcuvion this +night; my only hope is that we may find some _choza_ upon these moors, +where we may hide our heads from the _Estadinha_.” + +The night overtook us ere we had traversed the moor; there was, however, +no haze, to the great joy of my guide, and a corner of the moon partially +illumined our steps. Our situation, however, was dreary enough: we were +upon the wildest heath of the wildest province of Spain, ignorant of our +way, and directing our course we scarcely knew whither, for my guide +repeatedly declared to me that he did not believe that such a place as +Finisterre existed, or if it did exist, it was some bleak mountain +pointed out in a map. When I reflected on the character of this guide, I +derived but little comfort or encouragement: he was at best evidently +half-witted, and was by his own confession occasionally seized with +paroxysms which differed from madness in no essential respect; his wild +escapade in the morning of nearly three leagues, without any apparent +cause, and lastly his superstitious and frantic fears of meeting the +souls of the dead upon this heath, in which event he intended, as he +himself said, to desert me and make for the sea, operated rather +powerfully upon my nerves. I likewise considered that it was quite +possible that we might be in the route neither of Finisterre nor +Corcuvion, and I therefore determined to enter the first cabin at which +we should arrive, in preference to running the risk of breaking our necks +by tumbling down some pit or precipice. No cabin, however, appeared in +sight: the moor seemed interminable, and we wandered on until the moon +disappeared, and we were left in almost total darkness. + +At length we arrived at the foot of a steep ascent, up which a rough and +broken pathway appeared to lead. “Can this be our way?” said I to the +guide. + +“There appears to be no other for us, captain,” replied the man; “let us +ascend it by all means, and when we are at the top, if the sea be in the +neighbourhood we shall see it.” + +I then dismounted, for to ride up such a pass in such darkness would have +been madness. We clambered up in a line, first the guide, next the pony, +with his nose as usual on his master’s shoulder, of whom he seemed +passionately fond, and I bringing up the rear, with my left hand grasping +the animal’s tail. We had many a stumble, and more than one fall: once, +indeed, we were all rolling down the side of the hill together. In about +twenty minutes we reached the summit, and looked around us, but no sea +was visible: a black moor, indistinctly seen, seemed to spread on every +side. + +“We shall have to take up our quarters here till morning,” said I. + +Suddenly my guide seized me by the hand. “There is _lúme_, _senhor_,” +said he; “there is _lúme_.” I looked in the direction in which he +pointed, and after straining my eyes for some time, imagined that I +perceived, far below and at some distance, a faint glow. “That is +_lúme_,” shouted the guide, “and it proceeds from the chimney of a +_choza_.” + +On descending the eminence, we roamed about for a considerable time, +until we at last found ourselves in the midst of about six or eight black +huts. “Knock at the door of one of these,” said I to the guide, “and +inquire of the people whether they can shelter us for the night.” He did +so, and a man presently made his appearance, bearing in his hand a +lighted firebrand. + +“Can you shelter a _Cavalheiro_ from the night and the _Estadéa_?” said +my guide. + +“From both, I thank God,” said the man, who was an athletic figure, +without shoes and stockings, and who, upon the whole, put me much in mind +of a Munster peasant from the bogs. “Pray enter, gentlemen, we can +accommodate you both and your _cavalgadura_ besides.” + +We entered the _choza_, which consisted of three compartments; in the +first we found straw, in the second cattle and ponies, and in the third +the family, consisting of the father and mother of the man who admitted +us, and his wife and children. + +“You are a Catalan, sir Cavalier, and are going to your countrymen at +Corcuvion,” said the man in tolerable Spanish. “Ah, you are brave +people, you Catalans, and fine establishments you have on the Gallegan +shores; pity that you take all the money out of the country.” + +Now, under all circumstances, I had not the slightest objection to pass +for a Catalan; and I rather rejoiced that these wild people should +suppose that I had powerful friends and countrymen in the neighbourhood +who were, perhaps, expecting me. I therefore favoured their mistake, and +began with a harsh Catalan accent to talk of the fish of Galicia, and the +high duties on salt. The eye of my guide was upon me for an instant, +with a singular expression, half serious, half droll; he, however, said +nothing, but slapped his thigh as usual, and with a spring nearly touched +the roof of the cabin with his grotesque head. Upon inquiry, I +discovered that we were still two long leagues distant from Corcuvion, +and that the road lay over moor and hill, and was hard to find. Our host +now demanded whether we were hungry, and, upon being answered in the +affirmative, produced about a dozen eggs and some bacon. Whilst our +supper was cooking, a long conversation ensued between my guide and the +family, but as it was carried on in Gallegan, I tried in vain to +understand it. I believe, however, that it principally related to +witches and witchcraft, as the _Estadéa_ was frequently mentioned. After +supper I demanded where I could rest: whereupon the host pointed to a +trapdoor in the roof, saying that above there was a loft where I could +sleep by myself, and have clean straw. For curiosity’s sake, I asked +whether there was such a thing as a bed in the cabin. + +“No,” replied the man; “nor nearer than Corcuvion. I never entered one +in my life, nor any one of my family; we sleep around the hearth, or +among the straw with the cattle.” + +I was too old a traveller to complain, but forthwith ascended by a ladder +into a species of loft, tolerably large and nearly empty, where I placed +my cloak beneath my head, and lay down on the boards, which I preferred +to the straw, for more reasons than one. I heard the people below +talking in Gallegan for a considerable time, and could see the gleams of +the fire through the interstices of the floor. The voices, however, +gradually died away, the fire sank low and could no longer be +distinguished. I dozed, started, dozed again, and dropped finally into a +profound sleep, from which I was only roused by the crowing of the second +cock. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + + +Autumnal Morning—The World’s End—Corcuvion—Duyo—The Cape—A Whale—The +Outer Bay—The Arrest—The Fisher-Magistrate—Calros Rey—Hard of +Belief—Where is your Passport?—The Beach—A mighty Liberal—The +Handmaid—The Grand Baintham—Eccentric Book—Hospitality. + +It was a beautiful autumnal morning when we left the _choza_ and pursued +our way to Corcuvion. I satisfied our host by presenting him with a +couple of _pesetas_, and he requested as a favour, that if on our return +we passed that way, and were overtaken by the night, we would again take +up our abode beneath his roof. This I promised, at the same time +determining to do my best to guard against the contingency; as sleeping +in the loft of a Gallegan hut, though preferable to passing the night on +a moor or mountain, is anything but desirable. + +So we again started at a rapid pace along rough bridle-ways and +footpaths, amidst furze and brushwood. In about an hour we obtained a +view of the sea, and, directed by a lad whom we found on the moor +employed in tending a few miserable sheep, we bent our course to the +north-west, and at length reached the brow of an eminence, where we +stopped for some time to survey the prospect before us. + +It was not without reason that the Latins gave the name of _Finis terræ_ +to this district. We had arrived exactly at such a place as in my +boyhood I had pictured to myself as the termination of the world, beyond +which there was a wild sea, or abyss, or chaos. I now saw far before me +an immense ocean, and below me a long and irregular line of lofty and +precipitous coast. Certainly in the whole world there is no bolder coast +than the Gallegan shore, from the debouchement of the Minho to Cape +Finisterre. It consists of a granite wall of savage mountains, for the +most part serrated at the top, and occasionally broken, where bays and +firths like those of Vigo and Pontevedra intervene, running deep into the +land. These bays and firths are invariably of an immense depth, and +sufficiently capacious to shelter the navies of the proudest maritime +nations. + +There is an air of stern and savage grandeur in everything around, which +strongly captivates the imagination. This savage coast is the first +glimpse of Spain which the voyager from the north catches, or he who has +ploughed his way across the wide Atlantic: and well does it seem to +realize all his visions of this strange land. “Yes,” he exclaims, “this +is indeed Spain—stern, flinty Spain—land emblematic of those spirits to +which she has given birth. From what land but that before me could have +proceeded those portentous beings who astounded the Old World and filled +the New with horror and blood. Alva and Philip, Cortez and Pizarro—stern +colossal spectres looming through the gloom of bygone years, like yonder +granite mountains through the haze, upon the eye of the mariner. Yes, +yonder is indeed Spain; flinty, indomitable Spain; land emblematic of its +sons!” + +As for myself, when I viewed that wide ocean and its savage shore, I +cried, “Such is the grave, and such are its terrific sides; those moors +and wilds, over which I have passed, are the rough and dreary journey of +life. Cheered with hope, we struggle along through all the difficulties +of moor, bog, and mountain, to arrive at—what? The grave and its dreary +sides. Oh, may hope not desert us in the last hour—hope in the Redeemer +and in God!” + +We descended from the eminence, and again lost sight of the sea amidst +ravines and dingles, amongst which patches of pine were occasionally +seen. Continuing to descend, we at last came, not to the sea, but to the +extremity of a long narrow firth, where stood a village or hamlet; whilst +at a small distance, on the western side of the firth, appeared one +considerably larger, which was indeed almost entitled to the appellation +of town. This last was Corcuvion; the first, if I forget not, was called +Ria de Silla. We hastened on to Corcuvion, where I bade my guide make +inquiries respecting Finisterre. He entered the door of a wine-house, +from which proceeded much noise and vociferation, and presently returned, +informing me that the village of Finisterre was distant about a league +and a half. A man, evidently in a state of intoxication, followed him to +the door. “Are you bound for Finisterre, _Cavalheiros_?” he shouted. + +“Yes, my friend,” I replied, “we are going thither.” + +“Then you are going amongst a _fato de borrachos_,” {22} he answered. +“Take care that they do not play you a trick.” + +We passed on, and, striking across a sandy peninsula at the back of the +town, soon reached the shore of an immense bay, the north-westernmost end +of which was formed by the far-famed cape of Finisterre, which we now saw +before us stretching far into the sea. + +Along a beach of dazzling white sand we advanced towards the cape, the +bourne of our journey. The sun was shining brightly, and every object +was illumined by his beams. The sea lay before us like a vast mirror, +and the waves which broke upon the shore were so tiny as scarcely to +produce a murmur. On we sped along the deep winding bay, overhung by +gigantic hills and mountains. Strange recollections began to throng upon +my mind. It was upon this beach that, according to the tradition of all +ancient Christendom, Saint James, the patron saint of Spain, preached the +Gospel to the heathen Spaniards. Upon this beach had once stood an +immense commercial city, the proudest in all Spain. This now desolate +bay had once resounded with the voices of myriads, when the keels and +commerce of all the then known world were wafted to Duyo. {23} + +“What is the name of this village?” said I to a woman, as we passed by +five or six ruinous houses at the bend of the bay, ere we entered upon +the peninsula of Finisterre. + +“This is no village,” said the Gallegan, “this is no village, Sir +Cavalier; this is a city, this is Duyo.” + +So much for the glory of the world! These huts were all that the roaring +sea and the tooth of time had left of Duyo, the great city! Onward now +to Finisterre. + +It was mid-day when we reached the village of Finisterre, consisting of +about one hundred houses, and built on the southern side of the +peninsula, just before it rises into the huge bluff head which is called +the Cape. We sought in vain for an inn or _venta_, where we might stable +our beast; at one moment we thought that we had found one, and had even +tied the animal to the manger. Upon our going out, however, he was +instantly untied and driven forth into the street. The few people whom +we saw appeared to gaze upon us in a singular manner. We, however, took +little notice of these circumstances, and proceeded along the straggling +street until we found shelter in the house of a Castilian shopkeeper, +whom some chance had brought to this corner of Galicia—this end of the +world. Our first care was to feed the animal, who now began to exhibit +considerable symptoms of fatigue. We then requested some refreshment for +ourselves; and in about an hour, a tolerably savoury fish, weighing about +three pounds, and fresh from the bay, was prepared for us by an old woman +who appeared to officiate as housekeeper. Having finished our meal, I +and my uncouth companion went forth, and prepared to ascend the mountain. + +We stopped to examine a small dismantled fort or battery facing the bay, +and, whilst engaged in this examination, it more than once occurred to me +that we were ourselves the objects of scrutiny and investigation; indeed, +I caught a glimpse of more than one countenance peering upon us through +the holes and chasms of the walls. We now commenced ascending +Finisterre; and, making numerous and long _détours_, we wound our way up +its flinty sides. The sun had reached the top of heaven, whence he +showered upon us perpendicularly his brightest and fiercest rays. My +boots were torn, my feet cut, and the perspiration streamed from my brow. +To my guide, however, the ascent appeared to be neither toilsome nor +difficult. The heat of the day for him had no terrors, no moisture was +wrung from his tanned countenance; he drew not one short breath; and +hopped upon the stones and rocks with all the provoking agility of a +mountain goat. Before we had accomplished one-half of the ascent, I felt +myself quite exhausted. I reeled and staggered. “Cheer up, master mine; +be of good cheer, and have no care,” said the guide. “Yonder I see a +wall of stones; lie down beneath it in the shade.” He put his long and +strong arm round my waist, and, though his stature compared with mine was +that of a dwarf, he supported me as if I had been a child to a rude wall +which seemed to traverse the greater part of the hill, and served +probably as a kind of boundary. It was difficult to find a shady spot: +at last he perceived a small chasm, perhaps scooped by some shepherd as a +couch in which to enjoy his _siesta_. In this he laid me gently down, +and, taking off his enormous hat, commenced fanning me with great +assiduity. By degrees I revived, and, after having rested for a +considerable time, I again attempted the ascent, which, with the +assistance of my guide, I at length accomplished. + +We were now standing at a great altitude between two bays, the wilderness +of waters before us. Of all the ten thousand barks which annually plough +those seas in sight of that old cape, not one was to be descried. It was +a blue shiny waste, broken by no object save the black head of a +spermaceti whale, which would occasionally show itself at the top, +casting up thin jets of brine. The principal bay, that of Finisterre, as +far as the entrance, was beautifully variegated by an immense shoal of +_sardinhas_, on whose extreme skirts the monster was probably feasting. +From the other side of the cape we looked down upon a smaller bay, the +shore of which was overhung by rocks of various and grotesque shapes; +this is called the outer bay, or, in the language of the country, _Praia +do mar de fora_: {26} a fearful place in seasons of wind and tempest, +when the long swell of the Atlantic pouring in is broken into surf and +foam by the sunken rocks with which it abounds. Even on the calmest day +there is a rumbling and a hollow roar in that bay which fill the heart +with uneasy sensations. + +On all sides there was grandeur and sublimity. After gazing from the +summit of the cape for nearly an hour, we descended. + +On reaching the house where we had taken up our temporary habitation, we +perceived that the portal was occupied by several men, some of whom were +reclining on the floor drinking wine out of small earthen pans, which are +much used in this part of Galicia. With a civil salutation I passed on, +and ascended the staircase to the room in which we had taken our repast. +Here there was a rude and dirty bed, on which I flung myself, exhausted +with fatigue. I determined to take a little repose, and in the evening +to call the people of the place together, to read a few chapters of the +Scripture, and then to address them with a little Christian exhortation. +I was soon asleep, but my slumbers were by no means tranquil. I thought +I was surrounded with difficulties of various kinds, amongst rocks and +ravines, vainly endeavouring to extricate myself; uncouth visages showed +themselves amidst the trees and in the hollows, thrusting out cloven +tongues, and uttering angry cries. I looked around for my guide, but +could not find him; methought, however, that I heard his voice down a +deep dingle. He appeared to be talking of me. How long I might have +continued in these wild dreams I know not. I was suddenly, however, +seized roughly by the shoulder, and nearly dragged from the bed. I +looked up in amazement, and by the light of the descending sun I beheld +hanging over me a wild and uncouth figure; it was that of an elderly man, +built as strong as a giant, with much beard and whisker, and huge bushy +eyebrows, dressed in the habiliments of a fisherman; in his hand was a +rusty musket. + +_Myself_.—Who are you, and what do you want? + +_Figure_.—Who I am matters but little. Get up and follow me; it is you I +want. + +_Myself_.—By what authority do you thus presume to interfere with me? + +_Figure_.—By the authority of the _justicia_ of Finisterre. Follow me +peaceably, Calros, or it will be the worse for you. + +“Calros,” said I, “what does the person mean?” I thought it, however, +most prudent to obey his command, and followed him down the staircase. +The shop and the portal were now thronged with the inhabitants of +Finisterre, men, women, and children; the latter for the most part in a +state of nudity, and with bodies wet and dripping, having been probably +summoned in haste from their gambols in the brine. Through this crowd +the figure whom I have attempted to describe pushed his way with an air +of authority. + +On arriving in the street, he laid his heavy hand upon my arm, not +roughly, however. “It is Calros! it is Calros!” said a hundred voices; +“he has come to Finisterre at last, and the _justicia_ have now got hold +of him.” Wondering what all this could mean, I attended my strange +conductor down the street. As we proceeded, the crowd increased every +moment, following and vociferating. Even the sick were brought to the +doors to obtain a view of what was going forward, and a glance at the +redoubtable Calros. I was particularly struck by the eagerness displayed +by one man, a cripple, who, in spite of the entreaties of his wife, mixed +with the crowd, and having lost his crutch, hopped forward on one leg, +exclaiming, “_Carracho_! _tambien voy yo_!” {28} + +We at last reached a house of rather larger size than the rest; my guide, +having led me into a long low room, placed me in the middle of the floor, +and then hurrying to the door, he endeavoured to repulse the crowd who +strove to enter with us. This he effected, though not without +considerable difficulty, being once or twice compelled to have recourse +to the butt of his musket to drive back unauthorized intruders. I now +looked round the room. It was rather scantily furnished: I could see +nothing but some tubs and barrels, the mast of a boat, and a sail or two. +Seated upon the tubs were three or four men coarsely dressed, like +fishermen or shipwrights. The principal personage was a surly +ill-tempered looking fellow of about thirty-five, whom eventually I +discovered to be the _alcalde_ of Finisterre, and lord of the house in +which we now were. In a corner I caught a glimpse of my guide, who was +evidently in durance, two stout fishermen standing before him, one with a +musket and the other with a boat-hook. After I had looked about me for a +minute, the _alcalde_, giving his whiskers a twist, thus addressed me:— + +“Who are you, where is your passport, and what brings you to Finisterre?” + +_Myself_.—I am an Englishman. Here is my passport, and I came to see +Finisterre. + +This reply seemed to discomfit them for a moment. They looked at each +other, then at my passport. At length the _alcalde_, striking it with +his finger, bellowed forth: + +“This is no Spanish passport; it appears to be written in French.” + +_Myself_.—I have already told you that I am a foreigner. I of course +carry a foreign passport. + +_Alcalde_.—Then you mean to assert that you are not _Calros Rey_. + +_Myself_.—I never heard before of such a king, nor indeed of such a name. + +_Alcalde_.—Hark to the fellow! he has the audacity to say that he has +never heard of Calros the pretender, who calls himself king. + +_Myself_.—If you mean by Calros, the pretender Don Carlos, all I can +reply is, that you can scarcely be serious. You might as well assert +that yonder poor fellow, my guide, whom I see you have made prisoner, is +his nephew, the _Infante_ Don Sebastian. {29} + +_Alcalde_.—See, you have betrayed yourself; that is the very person we +suppose him to be. + +_Myself_.—It is true that they are both hunchbacks. But how can I be +like Don Carlos? I have nothing the appearance of a Spaniard, and am +nearly a foot taller than the pretender. + +_Alcalde_.—That makes no difference; you of course carry many waistcoats +about you, by means of which you disguise yourself, and appear tall or +low according to your pleasure. + +This last was so conclusive an argument that I had of course nothing to +reply to it. The _alcalde_ looked around him in triumph, as if he had +made some notable discovery. “Yes, it is Calros; it is Calros,” said the +crowd at the door. “It will be as well to have these men shot +instantly,” continued the _alcalde_; “if they are not the two pretenders, +they are at any rate two of the factious.” + +“I am by no means certain that they are either one or the other,” said a +gruff voice. + +The _justicia_ of Finisterre turned their eyes in the direction from +which these words proceeded, and so did I. Our glances rested upon the +figure who held watch at the door. He had planted the barrel of his +musket on the floor, and was now leaning his chin against the butt. + +“I am by no means certain that they are either one or the other,” +repeated he, advancing forward. “I have been examining this man,” +pointing to myself, “and listening whilst he spoke, and it appears to me +that after all he may prove an Englishman; he has their very look and +voice. Who knows the English better than Antonio de la Trava, and who +has a better right? Has he not sailed in their ships; has he not eaten +their biscuit; and did he not stand by Nelson when he was shot dead?” + +Here the _alcalde_ became violently incensed. “He is no more an +Englishman than yourself,” he exclaimed; “if he were an Englishman would +he have come in this manner, skulking across the land? Not so, I trow. +He would have come in a ship, recommended to some of us, or to the +Catalans. He would have come to trade—to buy; but nobody knows him in +Finisterre, nor does he know anybody, and the first thing, moreover, that +he does when he reaches this place is to inspect the fort, and to ascend +the mountain, where, no doubt, he has been marking out a camp. What +brings him to Finisterre, if he is neither Calros nor a _bribon_ of a +_faccioso_?” + +I felt that there was a good deal of justice in some of these remarks, +and I was aware, for the first time, that I had indeed committed a great +imprudence in coming to this wild place, and among these barbarous +people, without being able to assign any motive which could appear at all +valid in their eyes. I endeavoured to convince the _alcalde_ that I had +come across the country for the purpose of making myself acquainted with +the many remarkable objects which it contained, and of obtaining +information respecting the character and condition of the inhabitants. +He could understand no such motives. “What did you ascend the mountain +for?” “To see prospects.” “_Disparate_! I have lived at Finisterre +forty years, and never ascended that mountain. I would not do it in a +day like this for two ounces of gold. You went to take altitudes, and to +mark out a camp.” I had, however, a staunch friend in old Antonio, who +insisted, from his knowledge of the English, that all I said might very +possibly be true. “The English,” said he, “have more money than they +know what to do with, and on that account they wander all over the world, +paying dearly for what no other people care a groat for.” He then +proceeded, notwithstanding the frowns of the _alcalde_, to examine me in +the English language. His own entire knowledge of this tongue was +confined to two words—_knife_ and _fork_, which words I rendered into +Spanish by their equivalents, and was forthwith pronounced an Englishman +by the old fellow, who, brandishing his musket, exclaimed:— + +“This man is not Calros; he is what he declares himself to be, an +Englishman, and whosoever seeks to injure him shall have to do with +Antonio de la Trava, _el valiente de Finisterra_.” No person sought to +impugn this verdict, and it was at length determined that I should be +sent to Corcuvion, to be examined by the _alcalde mayor_ of the district. +“But,” said the _alcalde_ of Finisterre, “what is to be done with the +other fellow? He at least is no Englishman. Bring him forward, and let +us hear what he has to say for himself. Now, fellow, who are you, and +what is your master?” + +_Guide_.—I am Sebastianillo, a poor broken mariner of Padron, and my +master for the present is the gentleman whom you see, the most valiant +and wealthy of all the English. He has two ships at Vigo laden with +riches. I told you so when you first seized me up there in our _posada_. + +_Alcalde_.—Where is your passport? + +_Guide_.—I have no passport. Who would think of bringing a passport to +such a place as this, where I don’t suppose there are two individuals who +can read? I have no passport; my master’s passport of course includes +me. + +_Alcalde_.—It does not. And since you have no passport, and have +confessed that your name is Sebastian, you shall be shot. Antonio de la +Trava, do you and the musketeers lead this Sebastianillo forth, and shoot +him before the door. + +_Antonio de la Trava_.—With much pleasure, _Señor Alcalde_, since you +order it. With respect to this fellow, I shall not trouble myself to +interfere. He at least is no Englishman. He has more the look of a +wizard or _nuveiro_; one of those devils who raise storms and sink +launches. Moreover, he says he is from Padron, and those of that place +are all thieves and drunkards. They once played me a trick, and I would +gladly be at the shooting of the whole _pueblo_. + +I now interfered, and said that if they shot the guide they must shoot me +too; expatiating at the same time on the cruelty and barbarity of taking +away the life of a poor unfortunate fellow who, as might be seen at the +first glance, was only half-witted; adding, moreover, that if any person +was guilty in this case it was myself, as the other could only be +considered in the light of a servant acting under my orders. + +“The safest plan, after all,” said the _alcalde_, “appears to be to send +you both prisoners to Corcuvion, where the head _alcalde_ can dispose of +you as he thinks proper. You must, however, pay for your escort; for it +is not to be supposed that the housekeepers of Finisterre have nothing +else to do than to ramble about the country with every chance fellow who +finds his way to this town.” “As for that matter,” said Antonio, “I will +take charge of them both. I am the _valiente_ of Finisterre, and fear no +two men living. Moreover, I am sure that the captain here will make it +worth my while, else he is no Englishman. Therefore let us be quick, and +set out for Corcuvion at once, as it is getting late. First of all, +however, captain, I must search you and your baggage. You have no arms, +of course? But it is best to make all sure.” + +Long ere it was dark I found myself again on the pony, in company with my +guide, wending our way along the beach in the direction of Corcuvion. +Antonio de la Trava tramped heavily on before, his musket on his +shoulder. + +_Myself_.—Are you not afraid, Antonio, to be thus alone with two +prisoners, one of whom is on horseback? If we were to try, I think we +could overpower you. + +_Antonio de la Trava_.—I am the _valiente de Finisterra_, and I fear no +odds. + +_Myself_.—Why do you call yourself the _valiente_ of Finisterre? + +_Antonio de la Trava_.—The whole district call me so. When the French +came to Finisterre and demolished the fort, three perished by my hand. I +stood on the mountain, up where I saw you scrambling to-day. I continued +firing at the enemy, until three detached themselves in pursuit of me. +The fools! two perished amongst the rocks by the fire of this musket, and +as for the third, I beat his head to pieces with the stock. It is on +that account that they call me the _valiente_ of Finisterre. + +_Myself_.—How came you to serve with the English fleet? I think I heard +you say that you were present when Nelson fell. + +_Antonio de la Trava_.—I was captured by your countrymen, captain; and as +I had been a sailor from my childhood, they were glad of my services. I +was nine months with them, and assisted at Trafalgar. I saw the English +admiral die. You have something of his face, and your voice, when you +spoke, sounded in my ears like his own. I love the English, and on that +account I saved you. Think not that I would toil along these sands with +you if you were one of my own countrymen. Here we are at Duyo, captain. +Shall we refresh? + +We did refresh, or rather Antonio de la Trava refreshed, swallowing pan +after pan of wine, with a thirst which seemed unquenchable. “That man +was a greater wizard than myself,” whispered Sebastian, my guide, “who +told us that the drunkards of Finisterre would play us a trick.” At +length the old hero of the Cape slowly rose, saying that we must hasten +on to Corcuvion, or the night would overtake us by the way. + +“What kind of person is the _alcalde_ to whom you are conducting me?” +said I. + +“Oh, very different from him of Finisterre,” replied Antonio. “This is a +young _Señorito_, lately arrived from Madrid. He is not even a Gallegan. +He is a mighty liberal, and it is owing chiefly to his orders that we +have lately been so much on the alert. It is said that the Carlists are +meditating a descent on these parts of Galicia. Let them only come to +Finisterre; we are liberals there to a man, and the old _valiente_ is +ready to play the same part as in the time of the French. But, as I was +telling you before, the _alcalde_ to whom I am conducting you is a young +man, and very learned, and, if he thinks proper, he can speak English to +you, even better than myself, notwithstanding I was a friend of Nelson, +and fought by his side at Trafalgar.” + +It was dark night before we reached Corcuvion. Antonio again stopped to +refresh at a wine-shop, after which he conducted us to the house of the +_alcalde_. His steps were by this time not particularly steady, and on +arriving at the gate of the house, he stumbled over the threshold and +fell. He got up with an oath, and instantly commenced thundering at the +door with the stock of his musket. “Who is it?” at length demanded a +soft female voice in Gallegan. “The _valiente_ of Finisterre,” replied +Antonio; whereupon the gate was unlocked, and we beheld before us a very +pretty female with a candle in her hand. “What brings you here so late, +Antonio?” she inquired. “I bring two prisoners, _mi pulida_,” replied +Antonio. “_Ave Maria_!” she exclaimed. “I hope they will do no harm.” +“I will answer for one,” replied the old man; “but as for the other, he +is a _nuveiro_, and has sunk more ships than all his brethren in Galicia. +But be not afraid, my beauty,” he continued, as the female made the sign +of the cross: “first lock the gate, and then show me the way to the +_alcalde_. I have much to tell him.” The gate was locked, and bidding +us stay below in the court-yard, Antonio followed the young woman up a +stone stair, whilst we remained in darkness below. + +After the lapse of about a quarter of an hour we again saw the candle +gleam upon the staircase, and the young female appeared. Coming up to +me, she advanced the candle to my features, on which she gazed very +intently. After a long scrutiny she went to my guide, and having +surveyed him still more fixedly, she turned to me, and said, in her best +Spanish, “_Señor_ Cavalier, I congratulate you on your servant. He is +the best-looking _mozo_ in all Galicia. _Vaya_! if he had but a coat to +his back, and did not go barefoot, I would accept him at once as a +_novio_; but I have unfortunately made a vow never to marry a poor man, +but only one who has got a heavy purse and can buy me fine clothes. So +you are a Carlist, I suppose? _Vaya_! I do not like you the worse for +that. But, being so, how went you to Finisterre, where they are all +_Cristinos_ and _negros_? Why did you not go to my village? None would +have meddled with you there. Those of my village are of a different +stamp to the drunkards of Finisterre. Those of my village never +interfere with honest people. _Vaya_! how I hate that drunkard of +Finisterre who brought you; he is so old and ugly; were it not for the +love which I bear to the _Señor Alcalde_, I would at once unlock the gate +and bid you go forth, you and your servant, _el buen mozo_”. {37} + +Antonio now descended. “Follow me,” said he; “his worship the _alcalde_ +will be ready to receive you in a moment.” Sebastian and myself followed +him upstairs to a room, where, seated behind a table, we beheld a young +man of low stature, but handsome features, and very fashionably dressed. +He appeared to be inditing a letter, which, when he had concluded, he +delivered to a secretary to be transcribed. He then looked at me for a +moment fixedly, and the following conversation ensued between us:— + +_Alcalde_.—I see that you are an Englishman, and my friend Antonio here +informs me that you have been arrested at Finisterre. + +_Myself_.—He tells you true; and but for him I believe that I should have +fallen by the hands of those savage fishermen. + +_Alcalde_.—The inhabitants of Finisterre are brave, and are all liberals. +Allow me to look at your passport? Yes, all in form. Truly it was very +ridiculous that they should have arrested you as a Carlist. + +_Myself_.—Not only as a Carlist, but as Don Carlos himself. + +_Alcalde_.—Oh! most ridiculous; mistake a countryman of the grand +Baintham for such a Goth! + +_Myself_.—Excuse me, sir, you speak of the grand somebody. + +_Alcalde_.—The grand Baintham. He who has invented laws for all the +world. I hope shortly to see them adopted in this unhappy country of +ours. + +_Myself_.—Oh! you mean Jeremy Bentham. Yes! a very remarkable man in his +way. + +_Alcalde_.—In his way! in all ways. The most universal genius which the +world ever produced:—a Solon, a Plato, and a Lope de Vega. + +_Myself_.—I have never read his writings. I have no doubt that he was a +Solon; and as you say, a Plato. I should scarcely have thought, however, +that he could be ranked as a poet with Lope de Vega. + +_Alcalde_.—How surprising! I see, indeed, that you know nothing of his +writings, though an Englishman. Now, here am I, a simple _alcalde_ of +Galicia, yet I possess all the writings of Baintham on that shelf, and I +study them day and night. + +_Myself_.—You doubtless, sir, possess the English language. + +_Alcalde_.—I do. I mean that part of it which is contained in the +writings of Baintham. I am most truly glad to see a countryman of his in +these Gothic wildernesses. I understand and appreciate your motives for +visiting them: excuse the incivility and rudeness which you have +experienced. But we will endeavour to make you reparation. You are this +moment free: but it is late; I must find you a lodging for the night. I +know one close by which will just suit you. Let us repair thither this +moment. Stay, I think I see a book in your hand. + +_Myself_.—The New Testament. + +_Alcalde_.—What book is that? + +_Myself_.—A portion of the sacred writings, the Bible. + +_Alcalde_.—Why do you carry such a book with you? + +_Myself_.—One of my principal motives in visiting Finisterre was to carry +this book to that wild place. + +_Alcalde_.—Ha, ha! how very singular. Yes, I remember. I have heard +that the English highly prize this eccentric book. How very singular +that the countrymen of the grand Baintham should set any value upon that +old monkish book! + +It was now late at night, and my new friend attended me to the lodging +which he had destined for me, and which was at the house of a respectable +old female, where I found a clean and comfortable room. On the way I +slipped a gratuity into the hand of Antonio, and on my arrival, formally, +and in the presence of the _alcalde_, presented him with the Testament, +which I requested he would carry back to Finisterre, and keep in +remembrance of the Englishman in whose behalf he had so effectually +interposed. + +_Antonio_.—I will do so, your worship, and when the winds blow from the +north-west, preventing our launches from putting to sea, I will read your +present. Farewell, my captain, and when you next come to Finisterre, I +hope it will be in a valiant English bark, with plenty of contraband on +board, and not across the country on a pony, in company with _nuveiros_ +and men of Padron. + +Presently arrived the handmaid of the _alcalde_ with a basket, which she +took into the kitchen, where she prepared an excellent supper for her +master’s friend. On its being served up the _alcalde_ bade me farewell, +having first demanded whether he could in any way forward my plans. + +“I return to Saint James to-morrow,” I replied, “and I sincerely hope +that some occasion will occur which will enable me to acquaint the world +with the hospitality which I have experienced from so accomplished a +scholar as the _Alcalde_ of Corcuvion.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + + +Corunna—Crossing the Bay—Ferrol—The Dock-yard—Where are we now?—Greek +Ambassador—Lantern-Light—The Ravine—Viveiro—Evening—Marsh and +Quagmire—Fair Words and Fair Money—The Leathern Girth—Eyes of Lynx—The +Knavish Guide. + +From Corcuvion I returned to St. James and Corunna, and now began to make +preparation for directing my course to the Asturias. In the first place +I parted with my Andalusian horse, which I considered unfit for the long +and mountainous journey I was about to undertake, his constitution having +become much debilitated from his Gallegan travels. Owing to horses being +exceedingly scarce at Corunna, I had no difficulty in disposing of him at +a far higher price than he originally cost me. A young and wealthy +merchant of Corunna, who was a national guardsman, became enamoured of +his glossy skin and long mane and tail. For my own part, I was glad to +part with him for more reasons than one; he was both vicious and savage, +and was continually getting me into scrapes in the stables of the +_posadas_ where we slept or baited. An old Castilian peasant, whose pony +he had maltreated, once said to me, “Sir Cavalier, if you have any love +or respect for yourself, get rid, I beseech you, of that beast, who is +capable of proving the ruin of a kingdom.” So I left him behind at +Corunna, where I subsequently learned that he became glandered and died. +Peace to his memory! + +From Corunna I crossed the bay to Ferrol, whilst Antonio with our +remaining horse followed by land, a rather toilsome and circuitous +journey, although the distance by water is scarcely three leagues. I was +very sea-sick during the passage, and lay almost senseless at the bottom +of the small launch in which I had embarked, and which was crowded with +people. The wind was adverse, and the water rough. We could make no +sail, but were impelled along by the oars of five or six stout mariners, +who sang all the while Gallegan ditties. Suddenly the sea appeared to +have become quite smooth, and my sickness at once deserted me. I rose +upon my feet and looked around. We were in one of the strangest places +imaginable. A long and narrow passage overhung on either side by a +stupendous barrier of black and threatening rocks. The line of the coast +was here divided by a natural cleft, yet so straight and regular that it +seemed not the work of chance but design. The water was dark and sullen, +and of immense depth. This passage, which is about a mile in length, is +the entrance to a broad basin, at whose farther extremity stands the town +of Ferrol. + +Sadness came upon me as soon as I entered this place. Grass was growing +in the streets, and misery and distress stared me in the face on every +side. Ferrol is the grand naval arsenal of Spain, and has shared in the +ruin of the once splendid Spanish navy: it is no longer thronged with +those thousand shipwrights who prepared for sea the tremendous +three-deckers and long frigates, the greater part of which were destroyed +at Trafalgar. Only a few ill-paid and half-starved workmen still linger +about, scarcely sufficient to repair any _guarda costa_ {43a} which may +put in dismantled by the fire of some English smuggling schooner from +Gibraltar. Half the inhabitants of Ferrol {43b} beg their bread; and +amongst these, as it is said, are not unfrequently found retired naval +officers, many of them maimed or otherwise wounded, who are left to pine +in indigence: their pensions or salaries having been allowed to run three +or four years in arrear, owing to the exigencies of the times. A crowd +of importunate beggars followed me to the _posada_, and even attempted to +penetrate to the apartment to which I was conducted. “Who are you?” said +I to a woman who flung herself at my feet, and who bore in her +countenance evident marks of former gentility. “A widow, sir,” she +replied, in very good French; “a widow of a brave officer, once admiral +of this port.” The misery and degradation of modern Spain are nowhere so +strikingly manifested as at Ferrol. + +Yet even here there is still much to admire. Notwithstanding its present +state of desolation, it contains some good streets, and abounds with +handsome houses. The _alameda_ is planted with nearly a thousand elms, +of which almost all are magnificent trees, and the poor Ferrolese, with +the genuine spirit of localism so prevalent in Spain, boast that their +town contains a better public walk than Madrid, of whose _prado_, when +they compare the two, they speak in terms of unmitigated contempt. At +one end of this _alameda_ stands the church, the only one in Ferrol. To +this church I repaired the day after my arrival, which was Sunday. I +found it quite insufficient to contain the number of worshippers who, +chiefly from the country, not only crowded the interior, but, bareheaded, +were upon their knees before the door to a considerable distance down the +walk. + +Parallel with the _alameda_ extends the wall of the naval arsenal and +dock. I spent several hours in walking about these places, to visit +which it is necessary to procure a written permission from the +captain-general of Ferrol. They filled me with astonishment. I have +seen the royal dock-yards of Russia and England, but, for grandeur of +design and costliness of execution, they cannot for a moment compare with +these wonderful monuments of the bygone naval pomp of Spain. I shall not +attempt to describe them, but content myself with observing that the +oblong basin, which is surrounded with a granite mole, is capacious +enough to permit a hundred first-rates to lie conveniently in ordinary: +but instead of such a force, I saw only a sixty-gun frigate and two brigs +lying in this basin; and to this inconsiderable number of vessels is the +present war marine of Spain reduced. + +I waited for the arrival of Antonio two or three days at Ferrol, and +still he came not: late one evening, however, as I was looking down the +street, I perceived him advancing, leading our only horse by the bridle. +He informed me that, at about three leagues from Corunna, the heat of the +weather and the flies had so distressed the animal that it had fallen +down in a kind of fit, from which it had been only relieved by copious +bleeding, on which account he had been compelled to halt for a day upon +the road. The horse was evidently in a very feeble state; and had a +strange rattling in its throat, which alarmed me at first. I, however, +administered some remedies, and in a few days deemed him sufficiently +recovered to proceed. + +We accordingly started from Ferrol, having first hired a pony for myself, +and a guide who was to attend us as far as Rivadeo, {45} twenty leagues +from Ferrol, and on the confines of the Asturias. The day at first was +fine, but ere we reached Novales, a distance of three leagues, the sky +became overcast, and a mist descended, accompanied by a drizzling rain. +The country through which we passed was very picturesque. At about two +in the afternoon we could descry through the mist the small fishing-town +of Santa Marta on our left, with its beautiful bay. Travelling along the +summit of a line of hills, we presently entered a chestnut forest, which +appeared to be without limit: the rain still descended, and kept up a +ceaseless pattering among the broad green leaves. “This is the +commencement of the autumnal rains,” said the guide. “Many is the +wetting that you will get, my masters, before you reach Oviedo.” “Have +you ever been as far as Oviedo?” I demanded. “No,” he replied, “and once +only to Rivadeo, the place to which I am now conducting you, and I tell +you frankly that we shall soon be in wildernesses where the way is hard +to find, especially at night, and amidst rain and waters. I wish I were +fairly back to Ferrol, for I like not this route, which is the worst in +Galicia, in more respects than one; but where my master’s pony goes, +there must I go too; such is the life of us guides.” I shrugged my +shoulders at this intelligence, which was by no means cheering, but made +no answer. At length, about nightfall, we emerged from the forest, and +presently descended into a deep valley at the foot of lofty hills. + +“Where are we now?” I demanded of the guide, as we crossed a rude bridge +at the bottom of the valley, down which a rivulet swollen by the rain +foamed and roared. “In the valley of Coisa Doiro,” {46} he replied; “and +it is my advice that we stay here for the night and do not venture among +those hills, through which lies the path to Viveiro; for as soon as we +get there, _adios_! I shall be bewildered, which will prove the +destruction of us all.” “Is there a village nigh?” “Yes, the village is +right before us, and we shall be there in a moment.” We soon reached the +village, which stood amongst some tall trees at the entrance of a pass +which led up amongst the hills. Antonio dismounted, and entered two or +three of the cabins, but presently came to me, saying, “We cannot stay +here, _mon maître_, without being devoured by vermin; we had better be +amongst the hills than in this place. There is neither fire nor light in +these cabins, and the rain is streaming through the roofs.” The guide, +however, refused to proceed. “I could scarcely find my way amongst those +hills by daylight,” he cried surlily, “much less at night, ’midst storm +and _bretima_.” We procured some wine and maize bread from one of the +cottages. Whilst we were partaking of these, Antonio said, “_Mon +maître_, the best thing we can do in our present situation is to hire +some fellow of this village to conduct us through the hills to Viveiro. +There are no beds in this place, and if we lie down in the litter in our +damp clothes we shall catch a tertian of Galicia. {47} Our present guide +is of no service; we must therefore find another to do his duty.” +Without waiting for a reply, he flung down the crust of _broa_ which he +was munching and disappeared. I subsequently learned that he went to the +cottage of the _alcalde_, and demanded, in the queen’s name, a guide for +the Greek ambassador, who was benighted on his way to the Asturias. In +about ten minutes I again saw him, attended by the local functionary, +who, to my surprise, made me a profound bow, and stood bare-headed in the +rain. “His excellency,” shouted Antonio, “is in need of a guide to +Viveiro. People of our description are not compelled to pay for any +service which they may require; however, as his excellency has bowels of +compassion, he is willing to give three _pesetas_ to any competent person +who will accompany him to Viveiro, and as much bread and wine as he can +eat and drink on his arrival.” “His excellency shall be served,” said +the alcalde; “however, as the way is long and the path is bad, and there +is much _bretima_ amongst the hills, it appears to me that, besides the +bread and wine, his excellency can do no less than offer four pesetas to +the guide who may be willing to accompany him to Viveiro; and I know no +one better than my own son-in-law, Juanito.” “Content, _Señor Alcalde_,” +I replied; “produce the guide, and the extra _peseta_ shall be +forthcoming in due season.” + +Soon appeared Juanito with a lantern in his hand. We instantly set +forward. The two guides began conversing in Gallegan. “_Mon maître_,” +said Antonio, “this new scoundrel is asking the old one what he thinks we +have got in our portmanteaus.” Then, without awaiting my answer, he +shouted, “Pistols, ye barbarians! Pistols, as you shall learn to your +cost, if you do not cease speaking in that gibberish and converse in +Castilian.” The Gallegans were silent, and presently the first guide +dropped behind, whilst the other with the lantern moved before. “Keep in +the rear,” said Antonio to the former, “and at a distance: know one +thing, moreover, that I can see behind as well as before. _Mon maître_,” +said he to me, “I don’t suppose these fellows will attempt to do us any +harm, more especially as they do not know each other; it is well, +however, to separate them, for this is a time and place which might tempt +any one to commit robbery and murder too.” + +The rain still continued to fall uninterruptedly, the path was rugged and +precipitous, and the night was so dark that we could only see +indistinctly the hills which surrounded us. Once or twice our guide +seemed to have lost his way: he stopped, muttered to himself, raised his +lantern on high, and would then walk slowly and hesitatingly forward. In +this manner we proceeded for three or four hours, when I asked the guide +how far we were from Viveiro. “I do not know exactly where we are, your +worship,” he replied, “though I believe we are in the route. We can +scarcely, however, be less than two mad leagues from Viveiro.” “Then we +shall not arrive there before morning,” interrupted Antonio, “for a mad +league of Galicia means at least two of Castile; and perhaps we are +doomed never to arrive there, if the way thither leads down this +precipice.” As he spoke, the guide seemed to descend into the bowels of +the earth. “Stop,” said I; “where are you going?” “To Viveiro, +_Senhor_,” replied the fellow: “this is the way to Viveiro; there is no +other. I now know where we are.” The light of the lantern shone upon +the dark red features of the guide, who had turned round to reply, as he +stood some yards down the side of a dingle or ravine overgrown with thick +trees, beneath whose leafy branches a frightfully steep path descended. +I dismounted from the pony, and delivering the bridle to the other guide, +said, “Here is your master’s horse; if you please you may lead him down +that abyss, but as for myself I wash my hands of the matter.” The +fellow, without a word of reply, vaulted into the saddle, and with a +_vamos_, _Perico_! {49} to the pony, impelled the creature to the +descent. “Come, _Senhor_,” said he with the lantern, “there is no time +to be lost; my light will be presently extinguished, and this is the +worst bit in the whole road.” I thought it very probable that he was +about to lead us to some den of cut-throats, where we might be +sacrificed; but, taking courage, I seized our own horse by the bridle, +and followed the fellow down the ravine amidst rocks and brambles. The +descent lasted nearly ten minutes, and ere we had entirely accomplished +it, the light in the lantern went out, and we remained in nearly total +darkness. + +Encouraged, however, by the guide, who assured us there was no danger, we +at length reached the bottom of the ravine; here we encountered a rill of +water, through which we were compelled to wade as high as the knee. In +the midst of the water I looked up and caught a glimpse of the heavens +through the branches of the trees, which all around clothed the shelving +sides of the ravine, and completely embowered the channel of the stream: +to a place more strange and replete with gloom and horror no benighted +traveller ever found his way. After a short pause we commenced scaling +the opposite bank, which we did not find so steep as the other, and a few +minutes’ exertion brought us to the top. + +Shortly afterwards the rain abated, and the moon arising, cast a dim +light through the watery mists. The way had become less precipitous, and +in about two hours we descended to the shore of an extensive creek, along +which we proceeded till we reached a spot where many boats and barges lay +with their keels upward upon the sand. Presently we beheld before us the +walls of Viveiro, upon which the moon was shedding its sickly lustre. We +entered by a lofty and seemingly ruinous archway, and the guide conducted +us at once to the _posada_. + +Every person in Viveiro appeared to be buried in profound slumber; not so +much as a dog saluted us with his bark. After much knocking we were +admitted into the _posada_, a large and dilapidated edifice. We had +scarcely housed ourselves and horses when the rain began to fall with yet +more violence than before, attended with much thunder and lightning. +Antonio and I, exhausted with fatigue, betook ourselves to flock beds in +a ruinous chamber, into which the rain penetrated through many a cranny, +whilst the guides ate bread and drank wine till the morning. + +When I arose I was gladdened by the sight of a fine day. Antonio +forthwith prepared a savoury breakfast of stewed fowl, of which we stood +in much need after the ten-league journey of the preceding day over the +ways which I have attempted to describe. I then walked out to view the +town, which consists of little more than one long street, on the side of +a steep mountain thickly clad with forest and fruit-trees. At about ten +we continued our journey, accompanied by our first guide, the other +having returned to Coisa Doiro some hours previously. + +Our route throughout this day was almost constantly within sight of the +shores of the Cantabrian sea, whose windings we followed. The country +was barren, and in many parts covered with huge stones: cultivated spots, +however, were to be seen, where vines were growing. We met with but few +human habitations. We, however, journeyed on cheerfully, for the sun was +once more shining in full brightness, gilding the wild moors, and shining +upon the waters of the distant sea, which lay in unruffled calmness. + +At evening fall we were in the neighbourhood of the shore, with a range +of wood-covered hills on our right. Our guide led us towards a creek +bordered by a marsh, but he soon stopped, and declared that he did not +know whither he was conducting us. + +“_Mon maître_,” said Antonio, “let us be our own guides; it is, as you +see, of no use to depend upon this fellow, whose whole science consists +in leading people into quagmires.” + +We therefore turned aside, and proceeded along the marsh for a +considerable distance, till we reached a narrow path which led us into a +thick wood, where we soon became completely bewildered. On a sudden, +after wandering about a considerable time, we heard the noise of water, +and presently the clack of a wheel. Following the sound, we arrived at a +low stone mill, built over a brook; here we stopped and shouted, but no +answer was returned. “The place is deserted,” said Antonio; “here, +however, is a path, which, if we follow it, will doubtless lead us to +some human habitation. So we went along the path, which, in about ten +minutes, brought us to the door of a cabin, in which we saw lights. +Antonio dismounted and opened the door: “Is there any one here who can +conduct us to Rivadeo?” he demanded. + +“_Senhor_,” answered a voice, “Rivadeo is more than five leagues from +here, and, moreover, there is a river to cross.” + +“Then to the next village,” continued Antonio. + +“I am a _vecino_ of the next village, which is on the way to Rivadeo,” +said another voice, “and I will lead you thither, if you will give me +fair words, and, what is better, fair money.” + +A man now came forth, holding in his hand a large stick. He strode +sturdily before us, and in less than half an hour led us out of the wood. +In another half-hour he brought us to a group of cabins situated near the +sea; he pointed to one of these, and having received a _peseta_, bade us +farewell. + +The people of the cottage willingly consented to receive us for the +night; it was much more cleanly and commodious than the wretched huts of +the Gallegan peasantry in general. The ground floor consisted of a +keeping room and stable, whilst above was a long loft, in which were some +neat and comfortable flock beds. I observed several masts and sails of +boats. The family consisted of two brothers, with their wives and +families. One was a fisherman; but the other, who appeared to be the +principal person, informed me that he had resided for many years in +service at Madrid, and, having amassed a small sum, he had at length +returned to his native village, where he had purchased some land, which +he farmed. All the family used the Castilian language in their common +discourse, and on inquiry I learned that the Gallegan was not much spoken +in that neighbourhood. I have forgotten the name of this village, which +is situated on the estuary of the Foz, which rolls down from Mondonedo. +In the morning we crossed this estuary in a large boat, with our horses, +and about noon arrived at Rivadeo. + +“Now, your worship,” said the guide, who had accompanied us from Ferrol, +“I have brought you as far as I bargained, and a hard journey it has +been: I therefore hope you will suffer Perico and myself to remain here +to-night at your expense, and to-morrow we will go back; at present we +are both sorely tired.” + +“I never mounted a better pony than Perico,” said I, “and never met with +a worse guide than yourself. You appear to be perfectly ignorant of the +country, and have done nothing but bring us into difficulties. You may, +however, stay here for the night, as you say you are tired, and to-morrow +you may return to Ferrol, where I counsel you to adopt some other trade.” +This was said at the door of the _posada_ of Rivadeo. + +“Shall I lead the horses to a stable?” said the fellow. + +“As you please,” said I. + +Antonio looked after him for a moment, as he was leading the animals +away, and then, shaking his head, followed slowly after. In about a +quarter of an hour he returned, laden with the furniture of our own +horse, and with a smile upon his countenance. “_Mon maître_,” said he, +“I have throughout the journey had a bad opinion of this fellow, and now +I have detected him: his motive in requesting permission to stay was a +desire to purloin something from us. He was very officious in the stable +about our horse, and I now miss the new leathern girth which secured the +saddle, and which I observed him looking at frequently on the road. He +has by this time doubtless hid it somewhere; we are quite secure of him, +however, for he has not yet received the hire for the pony, nor the +gratuity for himself.” + +The guide returned just as he had concluded speaking. Dishonesty is +always suspicious. The fellow cast a glance upon us, and probably +beholding in our countenances something which he did not like, he +suddenly said, “Give me the horse-hire and my own _propina_, for Perico +and I wish to be off instantly.” + +“How is this?” said I; “I thought you and Perico were both fatigued, and +wished to rest here for the night: you have soon recovered from your +weariness.” + +“I have thought over the matter,” said the fellow, “and my master will be +angry if I loiter here: pay up, therefore, and let us go.” + +“Certainly,” said I, “if you wish it. Is the horse furniture all right?” + +“Quite so,” said he; “I delivered it all to your servant.” + +“It is all here,” said Antonio, “with the exception of the leathern +girth.” + +“I have not got it,” said the guide. + +“Of course not,” said I. “Let us proceed to the stable; we shall perhaps +find it there.” + +To the stable we went, which we searched through: no girth, however, was +forthcoming. “He has got it buckled round his middle beneath his +pantaloons, _mon maître_,” said Antonio, whose eyes were moving about +like those of a lynx; “I saw the protuberance as he stooped down. +However, let us take no notice: he is here surrounded by his countrymen, +who, if we were to seize him, might perhaps take his part. As I said +before, he is in our power, as we have not paid him.” + +The fellow now began to talk in Gallegan to the bystanders (several +persons having collected), wishing the _Denho_ to take him if he knew +anything of the missing property. Nobody, however, seemed inclined to +take his part; and those who listened only shrugged their shoulders. We +returned to the portal of the _posada_, the fellow following us, +clamouring for the horse-hire and _propina_. We made him no answer, and +at length he went away, threatening to apply to the _justicia_; in about +ten minutes, however, he came running back with the girth in his hand. +“I have just found it,” said he, “in the street: your servant dropped +it.” + +I took the leather and proceeded very deliberately to count out the sum +to which the horse-hire amounted, and having delivered it to him in the +presence of witnesses, I said, “During the whole journey you have been of +no service to us whatever; nevertheless, you have fared like ourselves, +and have had all you could desire to eat and drink. I intended, on your +leaving us, to present you, moreover, with a _propina_ of two dollars; +but since, notwithstanding our kind treatment, you endeavoured to pillage +us, I will not give you a _cuarto_: go, therefore, about your business.” + +All the audience expressed their satisfaction at this sentence, and told +him that he had been rightly-served, and that he was a disgrace to +Galicia. Two or three women crossed themselves, and asked him if he was +not afraid that the _Denho_, whom he had invoked, would take him away. +At last, a respectable-looking man said to him, “Are you not ashamed to +have attempted to rob two innocent strangers?” + +“Strangers!” roared the fellow, who was by this time foaming with rage, +“innocent strangers, _carracho_! they know more of Spain and Galicia, +too, than the whole of us. Oh, _Denho_, that servant is no man, but a +wizard, a _nuveiro_.—Where is Perico?” + +He mounted Perico, and proceeded forthwith to another _posada_. The +tale, however, of his dishonesty had gone before him, and no person would +house him; whereupon he returned on his steps, and seeing me looking out +of the window of the house, he gave a savage shout, and shaking his fist +at me, galloped out of the town, the people pursuing him with hootings +and revilings. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + + +Martin of Rivadeo—The Factious Mare—Asturians—Luarca—The Seven +Bellotas—Hermits—The Asturian’s Tale—Strange Guests—The Big +Servant—Batuschca. + +“What may your business be?” said I to a short, thick, merry-faced fellow +in a velveteen jerkin and canvas pantaloons, who made his way into my +apartment in the dusk of the evening. + +“I am Martin of Rivadeo, your worship,” replied the man, “an _alquilador_ +by profession. I am told that you want a horse for your journey into the +Asturias to-morrow, and of course a guide: now, if that be the case, I +counsel you to hire myself and mare.” + +“I am become tired of guides,” I replied; “so much so that I was thinking +of purchasing a pony, and proceeding without any guide at all. The last +which we had was an infamous character.” + +“So I have been told, your worship, and it was well for the _bribon_ that +I was not in Rivadeo when the affair to which you allude occurred. But +he was gone with the pony Perico before I came back, or I would have bled +the fellow to a certainty with my knife. He is a disgrace to the +profession, which is one of the most honourable and ancient in the world. +Perico himself must have been ashamed of him, for Perico, though a pony, +is a gentleman, one of many capacities, and well known upon the roads. +He is only inferior to my mare.” + +“Are you well acquainted with the road to Oviedo?” I demanded. + +“I am not, your worship; that is, no farther than Luarca, {58a} which is +the first day’s journey. I do not wish to deceive you, therefore let me +go with you no farther than that place; though perhaps I might serve for +the whole journey, for though I am unacquainted with the country, I have +a tongue in my head, and nimble feet to run and ask questions. I will, +however, answer for myself no farther than Luarca, where you can please +yourselves. Your being strangers is what makes me wish to accompany you, +for I like the conversation of strangers, from whom I am sure to gain +information both entertaining and profitable. I wish, moreover, to +convince you that we guides of Galicia are not all thieves, which I am +sure you will not suppose if you only permit me to accompany you as far +as Luarca.” + +I was so much struck with the fellow’s good humour and frankness, and +more especially by the originality of character displayed in almost every +sentence which he uttered, that I readily engaged him to guide us to +Luarca; whereupon he left me, promising to be ready with his mare at +eight next morning. + +Rivadeo is one of the principal seaports of Galicia, and is admirably +situated for commerce, on a deep firth, into which the river Mirando +{58b} debouches. It contains many magnificent buildings, and an +extensive square or _plaza_, which is planted with trees. I observed +several vessels in the harbour; and the population, which is rather +numerous, exhibited none of those marks of misery and dejection which I +had lately observed among the Ferrolese. + +On the morrow Martin of Rivadeo made his appearance at the appointed hour +with his mare. It was a lean haggard animal, not much larger than a +pony; it had good points, however, and was very clean in its hinder legs, +and Martin insisted that it was the best animal of its kind in all Spain. +“It is a factious mare,” said he, “and I believe an Alavese. When the +Carlists came here it fell lame, and they left it behind, and I purchased +it for a dollar. It is not lame now, however, as you shall soon see.” + +We had now reached the firth which divides Galicia from the Asturias. A +kind of barge was lying about two yards from the side of the quay, +waiting to take us over. Towards this Martin led his mare, and giving an +encouraging shout, the creature without any hesitation sprang over the +intervening space into the barge. “I told you she was a _facciosa_,” +said Martin; “none but a factious animal would have taken such a leap.” + +We all embarked in the barge and crossed over the firth, which is in this +place nearly a mile broad, to Castro Pol, {59} the first town in the +Asturias. I now mounted the factious mare, whilst Antonio followed on my +own horse. Martin led the way, exchanging jests with every person whom +he met on the road, and occasionally enlivening the way with an +extemporaneous song. + +We were now in the Asturias, and about noon we reached Navias, a small +fishing-town, situate on a _ria_ or firth: in the neighbourhood are +ragged mountains called the Sierra de Buron, which stand in the shape of +a semicircle. We saw a small vessel in the harbour, which we +subsequently learned was from the Basque provinces, come for a cargo of +cider or _sagadua_, the beverage so dearly loved by the Basques. As we +passed along the narrow street, Antonio was hailed with an “_Ola_!” from +a species of shop in which three men, apparently shoemakers, were seated. +He stopped for some time to converse with them, and when he joined us at +the _posada_ where we halted, I asked him who they were: “_Mon maître_,” +said he, “_ce sont des messieurs de ma connoissance_. I have been +fellow-servant at different times with all three; and I tell you +beforehand, that we shall scarcely pass through a village in this country +where I shall not find an acquaintance. All the Asturians, at some +period of their lives, make a journey to Madrid, where, if they can +obtain a situation, they remain until they have scraped up sufficient to +turn to advantage in their own country; and as I have served in all the +great houses in Madrid, I am acquainted with the greatest part of them. +I have nothing to say against the Asturians, save that they are close and +penurious whilst at service; but they are not thieves, neither at home +nor abroad, and though we must have our wits about us in their country, I +have heard we may travel from one end of it to the other without the +slightest fear of being either robbed or ill-treated, which is not the +case in Galicia, where we were always in danger of having our throats +cut.” + +Leaving Navias, we proceeded through a wild desolate country, till we +reached the pass of Baralla, which lies up the side of a huge wall of +rocks, which at a distance appear of a light green colour, though +perfectly bare of herbage or plants of any description. + +“This pass,” said Martin of Rivadeo, “bears a very evil reputation, and I +should not like to travel it after sunset. It is not infested by +robbers, but by things much worse, the _duendes_ of two friars of Saint +Francis. It is said that in the old time, long before the convents were +suppressed, two friars of the order of Saint Francis left their convent +to beg. It chanced that they were very successful, but as they were +returning at nightfall by this pass, they had a quarrel about what they +had collected, each insisting that he had done his duty better than the +other; at last, from high words they fell to abuse, and from abuse to +blows. What do you think these demons of friars did? They took off +their cloaks, and at the end of each they made a knot, in which they +placed a large stone, and with these they thrashed and belaboured each +other till both fell dead. Master, I know not which are the worst +plagues, friars, curates, or sparrows: + + ‘May the Lord God preserve us from evil birds three: + From all friars and curates and sparrows that be; + For the sparrows eat up all the corn that we sow, + The friars drink down all the wine that we grow, + Whilst the curates have all the fair dames at their nod: + From these three evil curses preserve us, Lord God.’” + +In about two hours from this time we reached Luarca, the situation of +which is most singular. It stands in a deep hollow, whose sides are so +precipitous that it is impossible to descry the town until you stand just +above it. At the northern extremity of this hollow is a small harbour, +the sea entering by a narrow cleft. We found a large and comfortable +_posada_, and by the advice of Martin, made inquiry for a fresh guide and +horse; we were informed, however, that all the horses of the place were +absent, and that if we waited for their return, we must tarry for two +days. “I had a presentiment,” said Martin, “when we entered Luarca, that +we were not doomed to part at present. You must now hire my mare and me +as far as Gijon, {62a} from whence there is a conveyance to Oviedo. To +tell you the truth, I am by no means sorry that the guides are absent, +for I am pleased with your company, as I make no doubt you are with mine. +I will now go and write a letter to my wife at Rivadeo, informing her +that she must not expect to see me back for several days.” He then went +out of the room, singing the following stanza:— + + “A handless man a letter did write, + A dumb dictated it word for word: + The person who read it had lost his sight, + And deaf was he who listened and heard.” {62b} + +Early the next morning we emerged from the hollow of Luarca; about an +hour’s riding brought us to Caneiro, a deep and romantic valley of rocks, +shaded by tall chestnut trees. Through the midst of this valley rushes a +rapid stream, which we crossed in a boat. “There is not such a stream +for trout in all the Asturias,” said the ferryman. “Look down into the +waters and observe the large stones over which it flows; now in the +proper season, and in fine weather, you cannot see those stones for the +multitudes of fish which cover them.” + +Leaving the valley behind us, we entered into a wild and dreary country, +stony and mountainous. The day was dull and gloomy, and all around +looked sad and melancholy. “Are we in the way for Gijon and Oviedo?” +demanded Martin of an ancient female, who stood at the door of a cottage. + +“For Gijon and Oviedo!” replied the crone; “many is the weary step you +will have to make before you reach Gijon and Oviedo. You must first of +all crack the _bellotas_: you are just below them.” + +“What does she mean by cracking the _bellotas_?” demanded I of Martin of +Rivadeo. + +“Did your worship never hear of the seven _bellotas_?” replied our guide. +“I can scarcely tell you what they are, as I have never seen them; I +believe they are seven hills which we have to cross, and are called +_bellotas_ from some resemblance to acorns which it is fancied they bear. +I have often heard of these acorns, and am not sorry that I have now an +opportunity of seeing them, though it is said that they are rather hard +things for horses to digest.” + +The Asturian mountains in this part rise to a considerable altitude. +They consist for the most part of dark granite, covered here and there +with a thin layer of earth. They approach very near to the sea, to which +they slope down in broken ridges, between which are deep and precipitous +defiles, each with its rivulet, the tribute of the hills to the salt +flood. The road traverses these defiles. There are seven of them, which +are called, in the language of the country, _Las siete bellotas_. Of all +these the most terrible is the midmost, down which rolls an impetuous +torrent. At the upper end of it rises a precipitous wall of rock, black +as soot, to the height of several hundred yards; its top, as we passed, +was enveloped with a veil of _bretima_. From this gorge branch off, on +either side, small dingles or glens, some of them so overgrown with trees +and copsewood, that the eye is unable to penetrate the obscurity beyond a +few yards. + +“Fine places would some of these dingles prove for hermitages,” said I to +Martin of Rivadeo. “Holy men might lead a happy life there on roots and +water, and pass many years absorbed in heavenly contemplation without +ever being disturbed by the noise and turmoil of the world.” + +“True, your worship,” replied Martin; “and perhaps on that very account +there are no hermitages in the _barrancos_ of the seven _bellotas_. Our +hermits had little inclination for roots and water, and had no kind of +objection to be occasionally disturbed in their meditations. _Vaya_! I +never yet saw a hermitage that was not hard by some rich town or village, +or was not a regular resort for all the idle people in the neighbourhood. +Hermits are not fond of living in dingles, amongst wolves and foxes; for +how in that case could they dispose of their poultry? A hermit of my +acquaintance left, when he died, a fortune of seven hundred dollars to +his niece, the greatest part of which he scraped up by fattening +turkeys.” + +At the top of this _bellota_ we found a wretched _venta_, where we +refreshed ourselves, and then continued our journey. Late in the +afternoon we cleared the last of these difficult passes. The wind began +now to rise, bearing on its wings a drizzling rain. We passed by Soto +Luino, and shaping our course through a wild but picturesque country, we +found ourselves about nightfall at the foot of a steep hill, up which led +a narrow bridle-way, amidst a grove of lofty trees. Long before we had +reached the top it had become quite dark, and the rain had increased +considerably. We stumbled along in the obscurity, leading our horses, +which were occasionally down on their knees, owing to the slipperiness of +the path. At last we accomplished the ascent in safety, and pushing +briskly forward, we found ourselves in about half an hour at the entrance +of Muros, a large village situated just on the declivity of the farther +side of the hill. + +A blazing fire in the _posada_ soon dried our wet garments, and in some +degree recompensed us for the fatigues which we had undergone in +scrambling up the _bellotas_. A rather singular place was this same +_posada_ of Muros. It was a large rambling house, with a spacious +kitchen, or common room, on the ground floor. Above stairs was a large +dining apartment, with an immense oak table, and furnished with cumbrous +leathern chairs with high backs, apparently three centuries old at least. +Communicating with this apartment was a wooden gallery, open to the air, +which led to a small chamber, in which I was destined to sleep, and which +contained an old-fashioned tester-bed with curtains. It was just one of +those inns which romance writers are so fond of introducing in their +descriptions, especially when the scene of adventure lies in Spain. The +host was a talkative Asturian. + +The wind still howled, and the rain descended in torrents. I sat before +the fire in a very drowsy state, from which I was presently aroused by +the conversation of the host. “_Señor_,” said he, “it is now three years +since I beheld foreigners in my house. I remember it was about this time +of the year, and just such a night as this, that two men on horseback +arrived here. What was singular, they came without any guide. Two more +strange-looking individuals I never yet beheld with eye-sight. I shall +never forget them. The one was as tall as a giant, with much tawny +moustache, like the coat of a badger, growing about his mouth. He had a +huge ruddy face, and looked dull and stupid, as he no doubt was, for when +I spoke to him he did not seem to understand, and answered in a jabber, +_valgame Dios_! {66} so wild and strange, that I remained staring at him +with mouth and eyes open. The other was neither tall nor red-faced, nor +had he hair about his mouth, and indeed he had very little upon his head. +He was very diminutive, and looked like a _jorobado_; but, _valgame +Dios_! such eyes, like wild cats’, so sharp and full of malice. He spoke +as good Spanish as I myself do, and yet he was no Spaniard. Spaniard +never looked like that man. He was dressed in a _zamarra_, with much +silver and embroidery, and wore an Andalusian hat, and I soon found that +he was master, and that the other was servant. + +“_Valgame Dios_! what an evil disposition had that same foreign +_jorobado_! and yet he had much grace, much humour, and said occasionally +to me such comical things, that I was fit to die of laughter. So he sat +down to supper in the room above, and I may as well tell you here, that +he slept in the same chamber where your worship will sleep to-night, and +his servant waited behind his chair. Well, I had curiosity, so I sat +myself down at the table too, without asking leave. Why should I? I was +in my own house, and an Asturian is fit company for a king, and is often +of better blood. Oh, what a strange supper was that. If the servant +made the slightest mistake in helping him, up would start the _jorobado_, +jump upon his chair, and seizing the big giant by the hair, would cuff +him on both sides of his face till I was afraid his teeth would have +fallen out. The giant, however, did not seem to care about it much. He +was used to it, I suppose. _Valgame Dios_! if he had been a Spaniard he +would not have submitted to it so patiently. But what surprised me most +was, that after beating his servant the master would sit down, and the +next moment would begin conversing and laughing with him as if nothing +had happened, and the giant also would laugh and converse with his +master, for all the world as if he had not been beaten. + +“You may well suppose, _Señor_, that I understood nothing of their +discourse, for it was all in that strange unchristian tongue in which the +giant answered me when I spoke to him; the sound of it is still ringing +in my ears. It was nothing like other languages. Not like Bascuen, {67} +not like the language in which your worship speaks to my namesake +_Signor_ Antonio here. _Valgame Dios_! I can compare it to nothing but +the sound a person makes when he rinses his mouth with water. There is +one word which I think I still remember, for it was continually +proceeding from the giant’s lips, but his master never used it. + +“But the strangest part of the story is yet to be told. The supper was +ended, and the night was rather advanced; the rain still beat against the +windows, even as it does at this moment. Suddenly the _jorobado_ pulled +out his watch. _Valgame Dios_! such a watch! I will tell you one thing, +_Señor_, that I could purchase all the Asturias, and Muros besides, with +the brilliants which shone about the sides of that same watch; the room +wanted no lamp, I trow, so great was the splendour which they cast. So +the _jorobado_ looked at his watch, and then said to me, ‘I shall go to +rest.’ He then took the lamp, and went through the gallery to his room, +followed by his big servant. Well, _Señor_, I cleared away the things, +and then waited below for the servant, for whom I had prepared a +comfortable bed, close by my own. _Señor_, I waited patiently for an +hour, till at last my patience was exhausted, and I ascended to the +supper apartment, and passed through the gallery till I came to the door +of the strange guest. _Señor_, what do you think I saw at the door?” + +“How should I know?” I replied. “His riding-boots, perhaps.” + +“No, _Señor_, I did not see his riding-boots; but, stretched on the floor +with his head against the door, so that it was impossible to open it +without disturbing him, lay the big servant fast asleep, his immense legs +reaching nearly the whole length of the gallery. I crossed myself, as +well I might, for the wind was howling even as it is now, and the rain +was rushing down into the gallery in torrents; yet there lay the big +servant fast asleep, without any covering, without any pillow, not even a +log, stretched out before his master’s door. + +“_Señor_, I got little rest that night, for I said to myself, I have evil +wizards in my house, folks who are not human. Once or twice I went up +and peeped into the gallery, but there still lay the big servant fast +asleep; so I crossed myself, and returned to my bed again.” + +“Well,” said I, “and what occurred next day?” + +“Nothing particular occurred next day: the _jorobado_ came down and said +comical things to me in good Spanish; and the big servant came down, but +whatever he said, and he did not say much, I understood not, for it was +in that disastrous jabber. They stayed with me throughout the day till +after supper-time, and then the _jorobado_ gave me a gold ounce, and +mounting their horses, they both departed as strangely as they had come, +in the dark night, I know not whither.” + +“Is that all?” I demanded. + +“No, _Señor_, it is not all; for I was right in supposing them evil +_brujos_: the very next day an express arrived, and a great search was +made after them, and I was arrested for having harboured them. This +occurred just after the present wars had commenced. It was said they +were spies and emissaries of I don’t know what nation, and that they had +been in all parts of the Asturias, holding conferences with some of the +disaffected. They escaped, however, and were never heard of more, though +the animals which they rode were found without their riders, wandering +amongst the hills; they were common ponies, and were of no value. As for +the _brujos_, it is believed that they embarked in some small vessel +which was lying concealed in one of the _rias_ of the coast.” + +_Myself_.—What was the word which you continually heard proceeding from +the lips of the big servant, and which you think you can remember? + +_Host_.—_Señor_, it is now three years since I heard it, and at times I +can remember it, and at others not; sometimes I have started up in my +sleep repeating it. Stay, _Señor_, I have it now at the point of my +tongue: it was _Patusca_. + +_Myself_.—_Batuschca_, you mean; the men were Russians. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + + +Oviedo—The Ten Gentlemen—The Swiss again—Modest Request—The +Robbers—Episcopal Benevolence—The Cathedral—Portrait of Feijoo. + +I must now take a considerable stride in my journey, no less than from +Muros to Oviedo, contenting myself with observing, that we proceeded from +Muros to Velez, {70} and from thence to Gijon, where our guide Martin +bade us farewell, and returned with his mare to Rivadeo. The honest +fellow did not part without many expressions of regret; indeed he even +expressed a desire that I should take him and his mare into my service. +“For,” said he, “I have a great desire to run through all Spain, and even +the world: and I am sure I shall never have a better opportunity than by +attaching myself to your worship’s skirts.” On my reminding him, +however, of his wife and family, for he had both, he said, “True, true, I +had forgotten them: happy the guide whose only wife and family are a mare +and foal.” + +Oviedo is about three leagues from Gijon. Antonio rode the horse, whilst +I proceeded thither in a kind of diligence which runs daily between the +two towns. The road is good, but mountainous. I arrived safely at the +capital of the Asturias, although at a rather unpropitious season, for +the din of war was at the gate, and there was the cry of the captains and +the shouting. {71} Castile, at the time of which I am writing, was in +the hands of the Carlists, who had captured and plundered Valladolid in +much the same manner as they had Segovia some time before. They were +every day expected to march on Oviedo, in which case they might perhaps +have experienced some resistance, a considerable body of troops being +stationed there, who had erected some redoubts, and strongly fortified +several of the convents, especially that of Santa Clara de la Vega. All +minds were in a state of feverish anxiety and suspense, more especially +as no intelligence arrived from Madrid, which by the last accounts was +said to be occupied by the bands of Cabrera and Palillos. + +So it came to pass that one night I found myself in the ancient town of +Oviedo, in a very large, scantily furnished, and remote room in an +ancient _posada_, formerly a palace of the counts of Santa Cruz. It was +past ten, and the rain was descending in torrents. I was writing, but +suddenly ceased on hearing numerous footsteps ascending the creaking +stairs which led to my apartment. The door was flung open, and in walked +nine men of tall stature, marshalled by a little hunchbacked personage. +They were all muffled in the long cloaks of Spain, but I instantly knew +by their demeanour that they were _caballeros_, or gentlemen. They +placed themselves in a rank before the table where I was sitting. +Suddenly and simultaneously they all flung back their cloaks, and I +perceived that every one bore a book in his hand; a book which I knew +full well. After a pause, which I was unable to break, for I sat lost in +astonishment, and almost conceived myself to be visited by apparitions, +the hunchback, advancing somewhat before the rest, said in soft silvery +tones, “_Señor_ Cavalier, was it you who brought this book to the +Asturias?” I now supposed that they were the civil authorities of the +place come to take me into custody, and, rising from my seat, I +exclaimed, “It certainly was I, and it is my glory to have done so. The +book is the New Testament of God: I wish it was in my power to bring a +million.” “I heartily wish so too,” said the little personage with a +sigh. “Be under no apprehension, Sir Cavalier; these gentlemen are my +friends. We have just purchased these books in the shop where you placed +them for sale, and have taken the liberty of calling upon you, in order +to return you our thanks for the treasure you have brought us. I hope +you can furnish us with the Old Testament also.” I replied, that I was +sorry to inform him that at present it was entirely out of my power to +comply with his wish, as I had no Old Testaments in my possession, but +did not despair of procuring some speedily from England. He then asked +me a great many questions concerning my biblical travels in Spain, and my +success, and the views entertained by the Society with respect to Spain, +adding, that he hoped we should pay particular attention to the Asturias, +which he assured me was the best ground in the Peninsula for our labour. +After about half an hour’s conversation, he suddenly said, in the English +language, “Good night, sir,” wrapped his cloak around him, and walked out +as he had come. His companions, who had hitherto not uttered a word, all +repeated, “Good night, sir,” and, adjusting their cloaks, followed him. + +In order to explain this strange scene, I must state, that in the morning +I had visited the petty bookseller of the place, Longoria, and having +arranged preliminaries with him, I sent him in the evening a package of +forty Testaments, all I possessed, with some advertisements. At the time +he assured me that, though he was willing to undertake the sale, there +was, nevertheless, not a prospect of success, as a whole month had +elapsed since he had sold a book of any description, on account of the +uncertainty of the times, and the poverty which pervaded the land; I +therefore felt much dispirited. This incident, however, admonished me +not to be cast down when things look gloomiest, as the hand of the Lord +is generally then most busy: that men may learn to perceive, that +whatever good is accomplished is not their work, but His. + +Two or three days after this adventure, I was once more seated in my +large scantily-furnished room; it was about ten, of a dark melancholy +morning, and the autumnal rain was again falling. I had just +breakfasted, and was about to sit down to my journal, when the door was +flung open and in bounded Antonio. + +“_Mon maître_,” said he, quite breathless, “who do you think has +arrived?” + +“The Pretender, I suppose,” said I, in some trepidation; “if so, we are +prisoners.” + +“Bah, bah!” said Antonio, “it is not the Pretender, but one worth twenty +of him; it is the Swiss of Saint James.” + +“Benedict Mol, the Swiss!” said I. “What! has he found the treasure? +But how did he come? How is he dressed?” + +“_Mon maître_,” said Antonio, “he came on foot, if we may judge by his +shoes, through which his toes are sticking; and as for his dress, he is +in most villanous apparel.” + +“There must be some mystery in this,” said I. “Where is he at present?” + +“Below, _mon maître_,” replied Antonio; “he came in quest of us. But I +no sooner saw him, than I hurried away to let you know.” + +In a few minutes Benedict Mol found his way upstairs. He was, as Antonio +had remarked, in most villanous apparel, and nearly barefooted; his old +Andalusian hat was dripping with rain. + +“_Och_, _lieber Herr_,” said Benedict, “how rejoiced I am to see you +again! Oh, the sight of your countenance almost repays me for all the +miseries I have undergone since I parted with you at Saint James.” + +_Myself_.—I can scarcely believe that I really see you here at Oviedo. +What motive can have induced you to come to such an out-of-the-way place +from such an immense distance? + +_Benedict_.—_Lieber Herr_, I will sit down and tell you all that has +befallen me. Some few days after I saw you last, the _canonigo_ +persuaded me to go to the captain-general to apply for permission to +disinter the _Schatz_, and also to crave assistance. So I saw the +captain-general, who at first received me very kindly, asked me several +questions, and told me to come again. So I continued visiting him till +he would see me no longer, and, do what I might, I could not obtain a +glance of him. The canon now became impatient, more especially as he had +given me a few _pesetas_ out of the charities of the church. He +frequently called me a _bribon_ and impostor. At last, one morning I +went to him, and said that I proposed to return to Madrid, in order to +lay the matter before the government, and requested that he would give me +a certificate to the effect that I had performed a pilgrimage to Saint +James, which I imagined would be of assistance to me upon the way, as it +would enable me to beg with some colour of authority. He no sooner heard +this request, than, without saying a word or allowing me a moment to put +myself on my defence, he sprang upon me like a tiger, clasping my throat +so hard that I thought he would have strangled me. I am a Swiss, +however, and a man of Lucerne, and when I had recovered myself a little, +I had no difficulty in flinging him off; I then threatened him with my +staff and went away. He followed me to the gate with the most horrid +curses, saying, that if I presumed to return again, he would have me +thrown at once into prison as a thief and a heretic. So I went in quest +of yourself, _lieber Herr_, but they told me that you were departed for +Corunna; I then set out for Corunna after you. + +_Myself_.—And what befell you on the road? + +_Benedict_.—I will tell you: about half-way between Saint James and +Corunna, as I was walking along, thinking of the _Schatz_, I heard a loud +galloping, and looking around me I saw two men on horseback coming across +the field with the swiftness of the wind, and making directly for me. +“_Lieber Gott_,” said I, “these are thieves, these are factious;” and so +they were. They came up to me in a moment and bade me stand; so I flung +down my staff, took off my hat, and saluted them. “Good day, +_caballeros_,” said I to them. “Good day, countryman,” said they to me, +and then we stood staring at each other for more than a minute. _Lieber +Himmel_, {75} I never saw such robbers; so finely dressed, so well armed, +and mounted so bravely on two fiery little _hakkas_, {76} that looked as +if they could have taken wing and flown up into the clouds! So we +continued staring at each other, till at last one asked me who I was, +whence I came, and where I was going. “Gentlemen,” said I, “I am a +Swiss; I have been to Saint James to perform a religious vow, and am now +returning to my own country.” I said not a word about the treasure, for +I was afraid that they would have shot me at once, conceiving that I +carried part of it about me. “Have you any money?” they demanded. +“Gentlemen,” I replied, “you see how I travel on foot, with my shoes torn +to pieces; I should not do so if I had money. I will not deceive you, +however; I have a _peseta_ and a few _cuartos_;” and thereupon I took out +what I had and offered it to them. “Fellow,” said they, “we are +_caballeros_ of Galicia, and do not take _pesetas_, much less _cuartos_. +Of what opinion are you? Are you for the queen?” “No, gentlemen,” said +I, “I am not for the queen; but, at the same time, allow me to tell you +that I am not for the king either. I know nothing about the matter; I am +a Swiss, and fight neither for nor against anybody unless I am paid.” +This made them laugh, and then they questioned me about Saint James, and +the troops there, and the captain-general; and not to disoblige them, I +told them all I knew, and much more. Then one of them, who looked the +fiercest and most determined, took his trombone in his hand, and pointing +it at me, said, “Had you been a Spaniard, we should have blown your head +to shivers, for we should have thought you a spy; but we see you are a +foreigner, and believe what you have said. Take, therefore, this +_peseta_ and go your way; but beware that you tell nobody anything about +us, for if you do, _carracho_!” He then discharged his trombone just +over my head, so that for a moment I thought myself shot; and then with +an awful shout, they both galloped away, their horses leaping over the +_barrancos_, as if possessed with many devils. + +_Myself_.—And what happened to you on your arrival at Corunna? + +_Benedict_.—When I arrived at Corunna, I inquired after yourself, _lieber +Herr_, and they informed me that, only the day before my arrival, you had +departed for Oviedo: and when I heard that, my heart died within me, for +I was now at the far end of Galicia, without a friend to help me. For a +day or two I knew not what to do; at last I determined to make for the +frontier of France, passing through Oviedo in the way, where I hoped to +see you, and ask counsel of you. So I begged and bettled among the +Germans of Corunna. I, however, got very little from them, only a few +_cuarts_, less than the thieves had given me on the road from Saint +James, and with these I departed for the Asturias by the way of +Mondonedo. _Och_, what a town is that, full of canons, priests, and +_pfaffen_, all of them more Carlist than Carlos himself. + +One day I went to the bishop’s palace and spoke to him, telling him I was +a pilgrim from Saint James, and requesting assistance. He told me, +however, that he could not relieve me, and as for my being a pilgrim from +Saint James, he was glad of it, and hoped that it would be of service to +my soul. So I left Mondonedo, and got amongst the wild mountains, +begging and bettling at the door of every _choza_ that I passed; telling +all I saw that I was a pilgrim from Saint James, and showing my passport +in proof that I had been there. _Lieber Herr_, no person gave me a +_cuart_, nor even a piece of _broa_, and both Gallegans and Asturians +laughed at Saint James, and told me that his name was no longer a +passport in Spain. I should have starved if I had not sometimes plucked +an ear or two out of the maize fields; I likewise gathered grapes from +the _parras_ and berries from the brambles, and in this manner I +subsisted till I arrived at the _bellotas_, where I slaughtered a stray +kid which I met, and devoured part of the flesh raw, so great was my +hunger. It made me, however, very ill; and for two days I lay in a +_barranco_ half dead and unable to help myself; it was a mercy that I was +not devoured by the wolves. I then struck across the country for Oviedo: +how I reached it I do not know; I was like one walking in a dream. Last +night I slept in an empty hog-sty about two leagues from here, and ere I +left it, I fell down on my knees and prayed to God that I might find you, +_lieber Herr_, for you were my last hope. + +_Myself_.—And what do you propose to do at present? + +_Benedict_.—What can I say, _lieber Herr_? I know not what to do. I +will be guided in everything by your counsel. + +_Myself_.—I shall remain at Oviedo a few days longer, during which time +you can lodge at this _posada_, and endeavour to recover from the fatigue +of your disastrous journeys; perhaps before I depart, we may hit on some +plan to extricate you from your present difficulties. + +Oviedo contains about fifteen thousand inhabitants. It is picturesquely +situated between two mountains, Morcin and Naranco; the former is very +high and rugged, and during the greater part of the year is covered with +snow; the sides of the latter are cultivated and planted with vines. The +principal ornament of the town is the cathedral, {79a} the tower of which +is exceedingly lofty, and is perhaps one of the purest specimens of +Gothic architecture at present in existence. The interior of the +cathedral is neat and appropriate, but simple and unadorned. I observed +but one picture, the Conversion of Saint Paul. One of the chapels is a +cemetery, in which rest the bones of eleven Gothic kings; to whose souls +be peace. + +I bore a letter of recommendation from Corunna to a merchant of Oviedo. +This person received me very courteously, and generally devoted some +portion of every day to showing me the remarkable things of Oviedo. + +One morning he thus addressed me: “You have doubtless heard of Feijoo, +{79b} the celebrated philosophic monk of the order of Saint Benedict, +whose writings have so much tended to remove the popular fallacies and +superstitions so long cherished in Spain; he is buried in one of our +convents, where he passed a considerable portion of his life. Come with +me and I will show you his portrait. Carlos Tercero, {80} our great +king, sent his own painter from Madrid to execute it. It is now in the +possession of a friend of mine, Don Ramon Valdez, an advocate.” + +Thereupon he led me to the house of Don Ramon Valdez, who very politely +exhibited the portrait of Feijoo. It was circular in shape, about a foot +in diameter, and was surrounded by a little brass frame, something like +the rim of a barber’s basin. The countenance was large and massive, but +fine, the eyebrows knit, the eyes sharp and penetrating, nose aquiline. +On the head was a silken skull-cap; the collar of the coat or vest was +just perceptible. The painting was decidedly good, and struck me as +being one of the very best specimens of modern Spanish art which I had +hitherto seen. + +A day or two after this I said to Benedict Mol, “To-morrow I start from +hence for Santander. It is therefore high time that you decide upon some +course, whether to return to Madrid or to make the best of your way to +France, and from thence proceed to your own country.” + +“_Lieber Herr_,” said Benedict, “I will follow you to Santander by short +journeys, for I am unable to make long ones amongst these hills; and when +I am there, peradventure I may find some means of passing into France. +It is a great comfort, in my horrible journeys, to think that I am +travelling over the ground which yourself have trodden, and to hope that +I am proceeding to rejoin you once more. This hope kept me alive in the +_bellotas_, and without it I should never have reached Oviedo. I will +quit Spain as soon as possible, and betake me to Lucerne, though it is a +hard thing to leave the _Schatz_ behind me in the land of the Gallegans.” + +Thereupon I presented him with a few dollars. + +“A strange man is this Benedict,” said Antonio to me next morning, as, +accompanied by a guide, we sallied forth from Oviedo; “a strange man, +_mon maître_, is this same Benedict. A strange life has he led, and a +strange death he will die,—it is written on his countenance. That he +will leave Spain I do not believe, or if he leave it, it will be only to +return, for he is bewitched about this treasure. Last night he sent for +a _sorcière_ whom he consulted in my presence: and she told him that he +was doomed to possess it, but that first of all he must cross water. She +cautioned him likewise against an enemy, which he supposes must be the +canon of Saint James. I have often heard people speak of the avidity of +the Swiss for money, and here is a proof of it. I would not undergo what +Benedict has suffered in these last journeys of his to possess all the +treasures in Spain.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + + +Departure from Oviedo—Villa Viciosa—The Young Man of the Inn—Antonio’s +Tale—The General and his Family—Woful Tidings—To-morrow we die—San +Vicente—Santander—An Harangue—Flinter the Irishman. + +So we left Oviedo and directed our course towards Santander. The man who +accompanied us as guide, and from whom I hired the pony on which I rode, +had been recommended to me by my friend the merchant of Oviedo. He +proved, however, a lazy, indolent fellow; he was generally loitering two +or three hundred yards in our rear, and instead of enlivening the way +with song and tale, like our late guide, Martin of Rivadeo, he scarcely +ever opened his lips, save to tell us not to go so fast, or that I should +burst his pony if I spurred him so. He was thievish withal, and though +he had engaged to make the journey _seco_, {82} that is, to defray the +charges of himself and beast, he contrived throughout to keep both at our +expense. When journeying in Spain, it is invariably the cheapest plan to +agree to maintain the guide and his horse or mule, for by so doing the +hire is diminished at least one-third, and the bills upon the road are +seldom increased; whereas, in the other case, he pockets the difference, +and yet goes shot free, and at the expense of the traveller, through the +connivance of the innkeepers, who have a kind of fellow-feeling with the +guides. + +Late in the afternoon we reached Villa Viciosa, a small dirty town, at +the distance of eight leagues from Oviedo: it stands beside a creek which +communicates with the Bay of Biscay. It is sometimes called La Capital +de las Avellanas, or the Capital of the Filberts, from the immense +quantity of this fruit which is grown in the neighbourhood; and the +greatest part of which is exported to England. As we drew nigh we +overtook numerous carts laden with _avellanas_ proceeding in the +direction of the town. I was informed that several small English vessels +were lying in the harbour. Singular as it may seem, however, +notwithstanding we were in the Capital of the Avellanas, it was with the +utmost difficulty that I procured a scanty handful for my dessert, and of +these more than one-half were decayed. The people of the house informed +me that the nuts were intended for exportation, and that they never +dreamt either of partaking of them themselves or of offering them to +their guests. + +At an early hour on the following day we reached Colunga, a beautiful +village on a rising ground, thickly planted with chestnut trees. It is +celebrated, at least in the Asturias, as being the birthplace of +Arguëlles, the father of the Spanish constitution. + +As we dismounted at the door of the _posada_, where we intended to +refresh ourselves, a person who was leaning out of an upper window +uttered an exclamation and disappeared. We were yet at the door, when +the same individual came running forth and cast himself on the neck of +Antonio. He was a good-looking young man, apparently about +five-and-twenty, genteelly dressed, with a _montero_ cap on his head. +Antonio looked at him for a moment, and then with an “_Ah_, _Monsieur_, +_est ce bien vous_?” shook him affectionately by the hand. The stranger +then motioned him to follow him, and they forthwith proceeded to the room +above. + +Wondering what this could mean, I sat down to my morning repast. Nearly +an hour elapsed, and still Antonio did not make his appearance. Through +the boards, however, which composed the ceiling of the kitchen where I +sat, I could hear the voices of himself and his acquaintance, and thought +that I could occasionally distinguish the sound of broken sobs and +groans. At last there was a long pause. I became impatient, and was +about to summon Antonio, when he made his appearance, but unaccompanied +by the stranger. “What, in the name of all that is singular,” I +demanded, “have you been about? Who is that man?” “_Mon maître_,” said +Antonio, “_c’est un monsieur de ma connaissance_. With your permission I +will now take a mouthful, and as we journey along I will tell you all +that I know of him.” + +“_Monsieur_,” said Antonio, as we rode out of Colunga, “you are anxious +to know the history of the gentleman whom you saw embrace me at the inn. +Know, _mon maître_, that these Carlist and _Cristino_ wars have been the +cause of much misery and misfortune in this country; but a being so +thoroughly unfortunate as that poor young gentleman of the inn, I do not +believe is to be found in Spain, and his misfortunes proceed entirely +from the spirit of party and faction which for some time past has been so +prevalent. + +“_Mon maître_, as I have often told you, I have lived in many houses and +served many masters, and it chanced that about ten years ago I served the +father of this gentleman, who was then a mere boy. It was a very high +family, for _monsieur_ the father was a general in the army, and a man of +large possessions. The family consisted of the general, his lady, and +two sons; the youngest of whom is the person you have just seen, the +other was several years older. _Pardieu_! I felt myself very +comfortable in that house, and every individual of the family had all +kind of complaisance for me. It is singular enough, that though I have +been turned out of so many families, I was never turned out of that; and +though I left it thrice, it was of my own free will. I became +dissatisfied with the other servants, or with the dog or the cat. The +last time I left was on account of the quail which was hung out of the +window of _madame_, and which waked me in the morning with its call. _Eh +bien_, _mon maître_, things went on in this way during the three years +that I continued in the family, out and in; at the end of which time it +was determined that the young gentleman should travel, and it was +proposed that I should attend him as valet. This I wished very much to +do. However, _par malheur_, I was at this time very much dissatisfied +with _madame_ his mother about the quail, and insisted that before I +accompanied him the bird should be slaughtered for the kitchen. To this +_madame_ would by no means consent; and even the young gentleman, who had +always taken my part on other occasions, said that I was unreasonable: so +I left the house in a huff, and never entered it again. + +“_Eh bien_, _mon maître_, the young gentleman went upon his travels, and +continued abroad several years; and from the time of his departure until +we met him at Colunga, I have not set eyes upon, nor indeed heard of him. +I have heard enough, however, of his family; of _monsieur_ the father, of +_madame_, and of the brother, who was an officer of cavalry. A short +time before the troubles, I mean before the death of Ferdinand, +_monsieur_ the father was appointed captain-general of Corunna. Now +_monsieur_, though a good master, was rather a proud man, and fond of +discipline, and all that kind of thing, and of obedience. He was, +moreover, no friend to the populace, to the _canaille_, and he had a +particular aversion to the nationals. So, when Ferdinand died, it was +whispered about at Corunna that the general was no liberal, and that he +was a better friend to Carlos than Christina. _Eh bien_, it chanced that +there was a grand _fête_, or festival, at Corunna, on the water, and the +nationals were there, and the soldiers. And I know not how it befell, +but there was an _émeute_, and the nationals laid hands on _monsieur_ the +general, and tying a rope round his neck, flung him overboard from the +barge in which he was, and then dragged him astern about the harbour +until he was drowned. They then went to his house, and pillaged it, and +so ill-treated _madame_, who at that time happened to be _enceinte_, that +in a few hours she expired. + +“I tell you what, _mon maître_, when I heard of the misfortune of +_madame_ and the general, you would scarcely believe it, but I actually +shed tears, and was sorry that I had parted with them in unkindness on +account of that pernicious quail. + +“_Eh bien_, _mon maître_, _nous poursuivrons notre histoire_. The eldest +son, as I told you before, was a cavalry officer, and a man of +resolution, and when he heard of the death of his father and mother, he +vowed revenge. Poor fellow! So what does he do but desert, with two or +three discontented spirits of his troop, and going to the frontier of +Galicia, he raised a small faction, and proclaimed Don Carlos. For some +little time he did considerable damage to the liberals, burning and +destroying their possessions, and putting to death several nationals that +fell into his hands. However, this did not last long; his faction was +soon dispersed, and he himself taken and hanged, and his head stuck on a +pole. + +“_Nous sommes déjà presque au bout_. When we arrived at the inn, the +young man took me above, as you saw, and there for some time he could do +nothing but weep and sob. His story is soon told:—he returned from his +travels, and the first intelligence which awaited him on his arrival in +Spain was, that his father was drowned, his mother dead, and his brother +hanged, and, moreover, all the possessions of his family confiscated. +This was not all: wherever he went, he found himself considered in the +light of a factious and discontented person, and was frequently assailed +by the nationals with blows of sabres and cudgels. He applied to his +relations, and some of these, who were of the Carlist persuasion, advised +him to betake himself to the army of Don Carlos, and the Pretender +himself, who was a friend of his father, and remembered the services of +his brother, offered to give him a command in his army. But, _mon +maître_, as I told you before, he was a pacific young gentleman, and as +mild as a lamb, and hated the idea of shedding blood. He was, moreover, +not of the Carlist opinion, for during his studies he had read books +written a long time ago by countrymen of mine, all about republics and +liberties, and the rights of man, so that he was much more inclined to +the liberal than the Carlist system; he therefore declined the offer of +Don Carlos, whereupon all his relations deserted him, whilst the liberals +hunted him from one place to another like a wild beast. At last, he sold +some little property which still remained to him, and with the proceeds +he came to this remote place of Colunga, where no one knew him, and where +he has been residing for several months, in a most melancholy manner, +with no other amusement than that which he derives from a book or two, or +occasionally hunting a leveret with his spaniel. + +“He asked me for counsel, but I had none to give him, and could only weep +with him. At last he said, ‘Dear Antonio, I see there is no remedy. You +say your master is below; beg him, I pray, to stay till tomorrow, and we +will send for the maidens of the neighbourhood, and for a violin and +bagpipe, and we will dance and cast away care for a moment.’ And then he +said something in old Greek, which I scarcely understood, but which I +think was equivalent to, ‘Let us eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow +we die!’ + +“_Eh bien_, _mon maître_, I told him that you were a serious gentleman, +who never took any amusement, and that you were in a hurry. Whereupon he +wept again, and embraced me, and bade me farewell. And now, _mon +maître_, I have told you the history of the young man of the inn.” + +We slept at Ribida de Sella, and the next day at noon arrived at Llanes. +Our route lay between the coast and an immense range of mountains, which +rose up like huge ramparts at about a league’s distance from the sea. +The ground over which we passed was tolerably level, and seemingly well +cultivated. There was no lack of vines and trees, whilst at short +intervals rose the _cortijos_ of the proprietors—square stone buildings +surrounded with an outer wall. Llanes is an old town, formerly of +considerable strength. In its neighbourhood is the convent of San +Cilorio, one of the largest monastic edifices in all Spain. It is now +deserted, and stands alone and desolate upon one of the peninsulas of the +Cantabrian shore. Leaving Llanes, we soon entered one of the most dreary +and barren regions imaginable, a region of rock and stone, where neither +grass nor trees were to be seen. Night overtook us in these places. We +wandered on, however, until we reached a small village, termed Santo +Colombo. Here we passed the night, in the house of a carabineer of the +revenue, a tall athletic figure, who met us at the gate, armed with a +gun. He was a Castilian, and with all that ceremonious formality and +grave politeness for which his countrymen were at one time so celebrated. +He chid his wife for conversing with her handmaid about the concerns of +the house before us. “Barbara,” said he, “this is not conversation +calculated to interest the strange cavaliers; hold your peace, or go +aside with the _muchacha_.” In the morning he refused any remuneration +for his hospitality, “I am a _caballero_,” said he, “even as yourselves. +It is not my custom to admit people into my house for the sake of lucre. +I received you because you were benighted and the _posada_ distant.” + +Rising early in the morning, we pursued our way through a country equally +stony and dreary as that which we had entered upon the preceding day. In +about four hours we reached San Vicente, a large and dilapidated town, +chiefly inhabited by miserable fishermen. It retains, however, many +remarkable relics of former magnificence: the bridge, which bestrides the +broad and deep firth on which stands the town, has no less than +thirty-two arches, and is built of grey granite. It is very ancient, and +in some parts in so ruinous a condition as to be dangerous. + +Leaving San Vicente behind us, we travelled for some leagues on the +seashore, crossing occasionally a narrow inlet or firth. The country at +last began to improve, and in the neighbourhood of Santillana was both +beautiful and fertile. About a league before we reached the country of +Gil Blas we passed through an extensive wood, in which were rocks and +precipices; it was exactly such a place as that in which the cave of +Rolando was situated, as described in the novel. The wood has an evil +name, and our guide informed us that robberies were occasionally +committed in it. No adventure, however, befell us, and we reached +Santillana at about six in the evening. + +We did not enter the town, but halted at a large _venta_, or _posada_, at +the entrance, before which stood an immense ash tree. We had scarcely +housed ourselves when a tremendous storm of rain and wind commenced, +accompanied with thunder and lightning, which continued without much +interruption for several hours, and the effects of which were visible in +our journey of the following day, the streams over which we passed being +much swollen, and several trees lying uptorn by the wayside. Santillana +contains four thousand inhabitants, and is six short leagues’ distance +from Santander, where we arrived early the next day. + +Nothing could exhibit a stronger contrast to the desolate tracts and the +half-ruined towns through which we had lately passed, than the bustle and +activity of Santander, which, though it stands on the confines of the +Basque provinces, the stronghold of the Pretender, is almost the only +city in Spain which has not suffered by the Carlist wars. Till the close +of the last century it was little better than an obscure fishing town, +but it has of late years almost entirely engrossed the commerce of the +Spanish transatlantic possessions, especially of the Havannah. The +consequence of which has been, that whilst Santander has rapidly +increased in wealth and magnificence, both Corunna and Cadiz have been as +rapidly hastening to decay. At present it possesses a noble quay, on +which stands a line of stately edifices, far exceeding in splendour the +palaces of the aristocracy of Madrid. These are built in the French +style, and are chiefly occupied by the merchants. The population of +Santander is estimated at sixty thousand souls. + +On the day of my arrival I dined at the _table-d’hôte_ of the principal +inn, kept by a Genoese. The company was very miscellaneous—French, +Germans, and Spaniards, all speaking in their respective languages, +whilst at the ends of the table, confronting each other, sat two Catalan +merchants, one of whom weighed nearly twenty stone, grunting across the +board in their harsh dialect. Long, however, before dinner was concluded +the conversation was entirely engrossed and the attention of all present +directed to an individual who sat on one side of the bulky Catalan. He +was a thin man of about the middle height, with a remarkably red face, +and something in his eyes which, if not a squint, bore a striking +resemblance to it. He was dressed in a blue military frock, and seemed +to take much more pleasure in haranguing than in the fare which was set +before him. He spoke perfectly good Spanish, yet his voice betrayed +something of a foreign accent. For a long time he descanted with immense +volubility on war and all its circumstances, freely criticizing the +conduct of the generals, both Carlist and _Cristinos_, in the present +struggle, till at last he exclaimed, “Had I but twenty thousand men +allowed me by the government, I would bring the war to a conclusion in +six months.” + +“Pardon me, sir,” said a Spaniard who sat at the table, “the curiosity +which induces me to request the favour of your distinguished name.” + +“I am Flinter,” replied the individual in the military frock, “a name +which is in the mouth of every man, woman, and child in Spain. I am +Flinter {92} the Irishman, just escaped from the Basque provinces and the +claws of Don Carlos. On the decease of Ferdinand, I declared for +Isabella, esteeming it the duty of every good cavalier and Irishman in +the Spanish service to do so. You have all heard of my exploits, and +permit me to tell you they would have been yet more glorious had not +jealousy been at work and cramped my means. Two years ago I was +despatched to Estremadura, to organize the militias. The bands of Gomez +and Cabrera entered the province, and spread devastation around. They +found me, however, at my post; and had I been properly seconded by those +under my command, the two rebels would never have returned to their +master to boast of their success. I stood behind my intrenchments. A +man advanced and summoned us to surrender. ‘Who are you?’ I demanded. +‘I am Cabrera,’ he replied; ‘and I am Flinter,’ I retorted flourishing my +sabre; ‘retire to your battalions, or you will forthwith die the death.’ +He was awed, and did as I commanded. In an hour we surrendered. I was +led a prisoner to the Basque provinces; and the Carlists rejoiced in the +capture they had made, for the name of Flinter had long sounded amongst +the Carlist ranks. I was flung into a loathsome dungeon, where I +remained twenty months. I was cold; I was naked; but I did not on that +account despond—my spirit was too indomitable for such weakness. My +keeper at last pitied my misfortunes. He said that ‘it grieved him to +see so valiant a man perish in inglorious confinement.’ We laid a plan +to escape together; disguises were provided, and we made the attempt. We +passed unobserved till we arrived at the Carlist lines above Bilbao: +there we were stopped. My presence of mind, however, did not desert me. +I was disguised as a carman, as a Catalan, and the coolness of my answers +deceived my interrogators. We were permitted to pass, and soon were safe +within the walls of Bilbao. There was an illumination that night in the +town, for the lion had burst his toils, Flinter had escaped, and was once +more returned to reanimate a drooping cause. I have just arrived at +Santander, on my way to Madrid, where I intend to ask of the government a +command, with twenty thousand men.” + +Poor Flinter! a braver heart and a more gasconading mouth were surely +never united in the same body. He proceeded to Madrid, and through the +influence of the British ambassador, who was his friend, he obtained the +command of a small division, with which he contrived to surprise and +defeat, in the neighbourhood of Toledo, a body of the Carlists, commanded +by Orejita, whose numbers more than trebled his own. In reward for this +exploit he was persecuted by the government, which, at that time, was the +_moderado_ or _juste milieu_, with the most relentless animosity; the +prime minister, Ofalia, supporting with all his influence numerous and +ridiculous accusations of plunder and robbery brought against the too +successful general by the Carlist canons of Toledo. He was likewise +charged with a dereliction of duty, in having permitted, after the battle +of Valdepeñas, which he likewise won in the most gallant manner, the +Carlist force to take possession of the mines of Almaden, although the +government, who were bent on his ruin, had done all in their power to +prevent him from following up his successes, by denying him the slightest +supplies and reinforcements. The fruits of victory thus wrested from +him, his hopes blighted, a morbid melancholy seized upon the Irishman; he +resigned his command, and, in less than ten months from the period when I +saw him at Santander, afforded his dastardly and malignant enemies a +triumph which satisfied even them, by cutting his own throat with a +razor. + +Ardent spirits of foreign climes, who hope to distinguish yourselves in +the service of Spain, and to earn honours and rewards, remember the fate +of Columbus, and of another as brave and as ardent—Flinter! + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + + +Departure from Santander—The Night Alarm—The Black Pass. + +I had ordered two hundred Testaments to be sent to Santander from Madrid: +I found, however, to my great sorrow, that they had not arrived, and I +supposed that they had either been seized on the way by the Carlists, or +that my letter had miscarried. I then thought of applying to England for +a supply, but I abandoned the idea for two reasons. In the first place, +I should have to remain idly loitering, at least a month, before I could +receive them, at a place where every article was excessively dear; and, +secondly, I was very unwell, and unable to procure medical advice at +Santander. Ever since I left Corunna, I had been afflicted with a +terrible dysentery, and latterly with an ophthalmia, the result of the +other malady. I therefore determined on returning to Madrid. To effect +this, however, seemed no very easy task. Parties of the army of Don +Carlos, which, in a partial degree, had been routed in Castile, were +hovering about the country through which I should have to pass, more +especially in that part called “The Mountains,” so that all communication +had ceased between Santander and the southern districts. Nevertheless, I +determined to trust as usual in the Almighty, and to risk the danger. I +purchased, therefore, a small horse, and sallied forth with Antonio. + +Before departing, however, I entered into conference with the booksellers +as to what they should do in the event of my finding an opportunity of +sending them a stock of Testaments from Madrid; and, having arranged +matters to my satisfaction, I committed myself to Providence. I will not +dwell long on this journey of three hundred miles. We were in the midst +of the fire, yet, strange to say, escaped without a hair of our heads +being singed. Robberies, murders, and all kinds of atrocities were +perpetrated before, behind, and on both sides of us; but not so much as a +dog barked at us, though in one instance a plan had been laid to +intercept us. About four leagues from Santander, whilst we were baiting +our horses at a village hostelry, I saw a fellow run off after having +held a whispering conversation with a boy who was dealing out barley to +us. I instantly inquired of the latter what the man had said to him, but +only obtained an evasive answer. It appeared afterwards that the +conversation was about ourselves. Two or three leagues farther there was +an inn and village where we had proposed staying, and indeed had +expressed our intention of doing so; but on arriving there, finding that +the sun was still far from its bourne, I determined to proceed farther, +expecting to meet with a resting-place at the distance of a league; +though I was mistaken, as we found none until we reached Montaneda, nine +leagues and a half from Santander, where was stationed a small detachment +of soldiers. At the dead of night, we were aroused from our sleep by a +cry that the “factious” were not far off. A messenger had arrived from +the _alcalde_ of the village where we had previously intended staying, +who stated that a party of Carlists had just surprised that place, and +were searching for an English spy, whom they supposed to be at the inn. +The officer commanding the soldiers, upon hearing this, not deeming his +own situation a safe one, instantly drew off his men, falling back on a +stronger party stationed in a fortified village near at hand. As for +ourselves, we saddled our horses and continued our way in the dark. Had +the Carlists succeeded in apprehending me, I should instantly have been +shot, and my body cast on the rocks to feed the vultures and wolves. But +“it was not so written,” said Antonio, who, like many of his countrymen, +was a fatalist. The next night we had another singular escape: we had +arrived near the entrance of a horrible pass called “_El puerto de la +puente de las tablas_,” or the pass of the bridge of planks, which wound +through a black and frightful mountain, on the farther side of which was +the town of Oñas, where we meant to tarry for the night. The sun had set +about a quarter of an hour. Suddenly a man, with his face covered with +blood, rushed out of the pass. “Turn back, sir,” he said, “in the name +of God; there are murderers in that pass; they have just robbed me of my +mule, and all I possess, and I have hardly escaped with life from their +hands!” I scarcely know why, but I made him no answer, and proceeded; +indeed I was so weary and unwell that I cared not what became of me. We +entered; the rocks rose perpendicularly, right and left, entirely +intercepting the scanty twilight, so that the darkness of the grave, or +rather the blackness of the valley of the shadow of death, reigned around +us, and we knew not where we went, but trusted to the instinct of the +horses, who moved on with their heads close to the ground. The only +sound which we heard was the plash of a stream, which tumbled down the +pass. I expected every moment to feel a knife at my throat, but “_it was +not so written_.” We threaded the pass without meeting a human being, +and within three-quarters of an hour after the time we entered it, we +found ourselves within the _posada_ of the town of Oñas, which was filled +with troops and armed peasants expecting an attack from the grand Carlist +army, which was near at hand. + +Well, we reached Burgos in safety; {98} we reached Valladolid in safety; +we passed the Guadarrama in safety; and were at length safely housed in +Madrid. People said we had been very lucky; Antonio said, “It was so +written;” but I say, Glory be to the Lord for His mercies vouchsafed to +us. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + + +State of Affairs at Madrid—The New Ministry—Pope of Rome—The Bookseller +of Toledo—Sword-blades—Houses of Toledo—The Forlorn Gypsy—Proceedings at +Madrid—Another Servant. + +During my journey in the northern provinces of Spain, which occupied a +considerable portion of the year 1837, I had accomplished but a slight +portion of what I proposed to myself to effect in the outset. +Insignificant are the results of man’s labours compared with the swelling +ideas of his presumption; something, however, had been effected by the +journey which I had just concluded. The New Testament of Christ was now +enjoying a quiet sale in the principal towns of the north, and I had +secured the friendly interest and co-operation of the booksellers of +those parts, particularly of him the most considerable of them all, old +Rey of Compostella. I had, moreover, disposed of a considerable number +of Testaments with my own hands, to private individuals, entirely of the +lower classes, namely, muleteers, carmen, _contrabandistas_, etc., so +that upon the whole I had abundant cause for gratitude and thanksgiving. + +I did not find our affairs in a very prosperous state at Madrid, few +copies having been sold in the booksellers’ shops; yet what could be +rationally expected during these latter times? Don Carlos, with a large +army, had been at the gates; plunder and massacre had been expected; so +that people were too much occupied in forming plans to secure their lives +and property to give much attention to reading of any description. + +The enemy, however, had now retired to his strongholds in Alava and +Guipuzcoa. I hoped that brighter days were dawning, and that the work, +under my own superintendence, would, with God’s blessing, prosper in the +capital of Spain. How far the result corresponded with my expectations +will be seen in the sequel. + +During my absence in the north, a total change of ministers had occurred. +The liberal party had been ousted from the cabinet, and in their place +had entered individuals attached to the _moderado_ or court party: +unfortunately, however, for my prospects, they consisted of persons with +whom I had no acquaintance whatever, and with whom my former friends, +Galiano and Isturitz, had little or no influence. These gentlemen were +now regularly laid on the shelf, and their political career appeared to +be terminated for ever. {100} + +From the present ministry I could expect but little; they consisted of +men the greater part of whom had been either courtiers or employés of the +deceased King Ferdinand, who were friends to absolutism, and by no means +inclined to do or to favour anything calculated to give offence to the +court of Rome, which they were anxious to conciliate, hoping that +eventually it might be induced to recognize the young queen, not as the +constitutional but as the absolute Queen Isabella the Second. + +Such was the party which continued in power throughout the remainder of +my sojourn in Spain, and which persecuted me less from rancour and malice +than from policy. It was not until the conclusion of the war of the +succession that it lost the ascendency, when it sank to the ground with +its patroness the queen-mother, before the dictatorship of Espartero. + +The first step which I took after my return to Madrid, towards +circulating the Scriptures, was a very bold one. It was neither more nor +less than the establishment of a shop for the sale of Testaments. This +shop was situated in the Calle del Principe, a respectable and +well-frequented street in the neighbourhood of the Square of Cervantes. +I furnished it handsomely with glass cases and chandeliers, and procured +an acute Gallegan of the name of Pepe Calzado, to superintend the +business, who gave me weekly a faithful account of the copies sold. + +“How strangely times alter,” said I, the second day subsequent to the +opening of my establishment, as I stood on the opposite side of the +street, leaning against the wall with folded arms, surveying my shop, on +the windows of which were painted in large yellow characters, _Despacho +de la Sociedad Bíblica y Estrangera_; {101} “how strangely times alter! +Here have I been during the last eight months running about old Popish +Spain, distributing Testaments, as agent of what the Papists call an +heretical society, and have neither been stoned nor burnt; and here am I +now in the capital, doing that which one would think were enough to cause +all the dead inquisitors and officials buried within the circuit of the +walls to rise from their graves and cry abomination; and yet no one +interferes with me. Pope of Rome! Pope of Rome! look to thyself. That +shop may be closed; but oh! what a sign of the times, that it has been +permitted to exist for one day. It appears to me, my Father, that the +days of your sway are numbered in Spain; that you will not be permitted +much longer to plunder her, to scoff at her, and to scourge her with +scorpions, as in bygone periods. See I not the hand on the wall? See I +not in yonder letters a ‘_Mene_, _Mene_, _Tekel_, _Upharsin_’? Look to +thyself, _Batuschca_.” + +And I remained for two hours, leaning against the wall, staring at the +shop. + +A short time after the establishment of the _despacho_ at Madrid, I once +more mounted the saddle, and, attended by Antonio, rode over to Toledo, +for the purpose of circulating the Scriptures, sending beforehand by a +muleteer a cargo of one hundred Testaments. I instantly addressed myself +to the principal bookseller of the place, whom, from the circumstance of +his living in a town so abounding with canons, priests, and ex-friars as +Toledo, I expected to find a Carlist, or a _servil_ at least. I was +never more mistaken in my life: on entering the shop, which was very +large and commodious, I beheld a stout athletic man, dressed in a kind of +cavalry uniform, with a helmet on his head, and an immense sabre in his +hand. This was the bookseller himself, who, I soon found, was an officer +in the national cavalry. Upon learning who I was, he shook me heartily +by the hand, and said that nothing would give him greater pleasure than +taking charge of the books, which he would endeavour to circulate to the +utmost of his ability. + +“Will not your doing so bring you into odium with the clergy?” + +“_Ca_!” {103a} said he; “who cares? I am rich, and so was my father +before me. I do not depend on them; they cannot hate me more than they +do already, for I make no secret of my opinions. I have just returned +from an expedition,” said he; “my brother nationals and myself have, for +the last three days, been occupied in hunting down the factious and +thieves of the neighbourhood; we have killed three and brought in several +prisoners. Who cares for the cowardly priests? I am a liberal, _Don +Jorge_, and a friend of your countryman, Flinter. Many is the Carlist +guerilla-curate and robber-friar whom I have assisted him to catch. I am +rejoiced to hear that he has just been appointed captain-general of +Toledo; there will be fine doings here when he arrives, _Don Jorge_. We +will make the clergy shake between us, I assure you.” + +Toledo was formerly the capital of Spain. Its population at present is +barely fifteen thousand souls, though, in the time of the Romans, and +also during the Middle Ages, it is said to have amounted to between two +and three hundred thousand. It is situated about twelve leagues, or +forty miles, westward {103b} of Madrid, and is built upon a steep rocky +hill, round which flows the Tagus, on all sides but the north. It still +possesses a great many remarkable edifices, notwithstanding that it has +long since fallen into decay. Its cathedral is the most magnificent of +Spain, and is the see of the primate. In the tower of this cathedral is +the famous bell of Toledo, the largest in the world with the exception of +the monster bell of Moscow, which I have also seen. It weighs 1543 +_arrobas_, or 37,032 pounds. It has, however, a disagreeable sound, +owing to a cleft in its side. Toledo could once boast the finest +pictures in Spain, but many were stolen or destroyed by the French during +the Peninsular war, and still more have lately been removed by order of +the government. Perhaps the most remarkable one still remains; I allude +to that which represents the burial of the Count of Orgas, the +masterpiece of Domenico, {104} the Greek, a most extraordinary genius, +some of whose productions possess merit of a very high order. The +picture in question is in the little parish church of San Tomé, at the +bottom of the aisle, on the left side of the altar. Could it be +purchased, I should say it would be cheap at five thousand pounds. + +Amongst the many remarkable things which meet the eye of the curious +observer at Toledo, is the manufactory of arms, where are wrought the +swords, spears, and other weapons intended for the army, with the +exception of firearms, which mostly come from abroad. + +In old times, as is well known, the sword-blades of Toledo were held in +great estimation, and were transmitted as merchandise throughout +Christendom. The present manufactory, or _fabrica_, as it is called, is +a handsome modern edifice, situated without the wall of the city, on a +plain contiguous to the river, with which it communicates by a small +canal. It is said that the water and the sand of the Tagus are essential +for the proper tempering of the swords. I asked some of the principal +workmen whether, at the present day, they could manufacture weapons of +equal value to those of former days, and whether the secret had been +lost. + +“_Ca_!” said they, “the swords of Toledo were never so good as those +which we are daily making. It is ridiculous enough to see strangers +coming here to purchase old swords, the greater part of which are mere +rubbish, and never made at Toledo, yet for such they will give a large +price, whilst they would grudge two dollars for this jewel, which was +made but yesterday;” thereupon putting into my hand a middle-sized +rapier. “Your worship,” said they, “seems to have a strong arm; prove +its temper against the stone wall—thrust boldly and fear not.” + +I _have_ a strong arm, and dashed the point with my utmost force against +the solid granite: my arm was numbed to the shoulder from the violence of +the concussion, and continued so for nearly a week, but the sword +appeared not to be at all blunted, or to have suffered in any respect. + +“A better sword than that,” said an ancient workman, a native of Old +Castile, “never transfixed Moor out yonder on the _sagra_.” + +During my stay at Toledo, I lodged at the Posada de los Caballeros, which +signifies the inn of the gentlemen, which name, in some respects, it +certainly well deserved, for there are many palaces far less magnificent +than this inn of Toledo. By magnificence it must not be supposed, +however, that I allude to costliness of furniture or any kind of luxury +which pervaded the culinary department. The rooms were as empty as those +of Spanish inns generally are, and the fare, though good in its kind, was +plain and homely; but I have seldom seen a more imposing edifice. It was +of immense size, consisting of several stories, and was built something +in the Moorish taste, with a quadrangular court in the centre, beneath +which was an immense _algibe_ or tank, serving as a reservoir for +rain-water. All the houses in Toledo are supplied with tanks of this +description, into which the waters in the rainy season flow from the +roofs through pipes. No other water is used for drinking; that of the +Tagus, not being considered salubrious, is only used for purposes of +cleanliness, being conveyed up the steep narrow streets on donkeys, in +large stone jars. The city, standing on a rocky mountain, has no wells. +As for the rain-water, it deposits a sediment in the tank, and becomes +very sweet and potable: these tanks are cleaned out twice every year. +During the summer, at which time the heat in this part of Spain is +intense, the families spend the greater part of the day in the courts, +which are overhung with a linen awning, the heat of the atmosphere being +tempered by the coolness arising from the tank below, which answers the +same purpose as the fountain in the southern provinces of Spain. + +I spent about a week at Toledo, during which time several copies of the +Testament were disposed of in the shop of my friend the bookseller. +Several priests took it up from the _mostrador_ on which it lay, examined +it, but made no remarks; none of them purchased it. My friend showed me +through his house, almost every apartment of which was lined from roof to +floor with books, many of which were highly valuable. He told me that he +possessed the best collection in Spain of the ancient literature of the +country. He was, however, less proud of his library than his stud; +finding that I had some acquaintance with horses, his liking for me and +also his respect considerably increased. “All I have,” said he, “is at +your service; I see you are a man after my own heart. When you are +disposed to ride out upon the _sagra_, you have only to apply to my +groom, who will forthwith saddle you my famed Cordovese _entero_; I +purchased him from the stables at Aranjuez, when the royal stud was +broken up. There is but one other man to whom I would lend him, and that +man is Flinter.” + +At Toledo I met with a forlorn gypsy woman and her son, a lad of about +fourteen years of age; she was not a native of the place, but had come +from La Mancha, her husband having been cast into the prison of Toledo on +a charge of mule-stealing: the crime had been proved against him, and in +a few days he was to depart for Malaga, with the chain of galley-slaves. +He was quite destitute of money, and his wife was now in Toledo, earning +a few _cuartos_ by telling fortunes about the streets, to support him in +prison. She told me that it was her intention to follow him to Malaga, +where she hoped to be able to effect his escape. What an instance of +conjugal affection! and yet the affection here was all on one side, as is +too frequently the case. Her husband was a worthless scoundrel, who had +previously abandoned her and betaken himself to Madrid, where he had long +lived in concubinage with the notorious she-thug Aurora, {107} at whose +instigation he had committed the robbery for which he was now held in +durance. “Should your husband escape from Malaga, in what direction will +he fly?” I demanded. + +“To the _chim_ of the _Corahai_, my son; to the land of the Moors, to be +a soldier of the Moorish king.” + +“And what will become of yourself?” I inquired; “think you that he will +take you with him?” + +“He will leave me on the shore, my son; and as soon as he has crossed the +black _pawnee_, he will forget me and never think of me more.” + +“And knowing his ingratitude, why should you give yourself so much +trouble about him?” + +“Am I not his _romí_, my son; and am I not bound by the law of the +_Calés_ to assist him to the last? Should he return from the land of the +_Corahai_ at the end of a hundred years, and should find me alive, and +should say, ‘I am hungry, little wife; go forth and steal or tell +_baji_,’ I must do it, for he is the _rom_ and I the _romí_.” + +On my return to Madrid, I found the _despacho_ still open. Various +Testaments had been sold, though the number was by no means considerable: +the work had to labour under great disadvantage, from the ignorance of +the people at large with respect to its tenor and contents. It was no +wonder, then, that little interest was felt respecting it. To call, +however, public attention to the _despacho_, I printed three thousand +advertisements on paper, yellow, blue, and crimson, with which I almost +covered the sides of the streets, and, besides this, inserted an account +of it in all the journals and periodicals: the consequence was, that in a +short time almost every person in Madrid was aware of its existence. +Such exertions in London or Paris would probably have ensured the sale of +the entire edition of the New Testament within a few days. In Madrid, +however, the result was not quite so flattering; for after the +establishment had been open an entire month, the copies disposed of +barely amounted to one hundred. + +These proceedings of mine did not fail to cause a great sensation: the +priests and their partisans were teeming with malice and fury, which, for +some time, however, they thought proper to exhibit only in words; it +being their opinion that I was favoured by the ambassador and by the +British government; but there was no attempt, however atrocious, that +might not be expected from their malignity; and were it right and seemly +for me, the most insignificant of worms, to make such a comparison, I +might say, like Paul at Ephesus, I was fighting with wild beasts. + +On the last day of the year 1837, my servant Antonio thus addressed me: +“_Mon maître_, it is necessary that I leave you for a time. Ever since +we have returned from our journeys, I have become unsettled and +dissatisfied with the house, the furniture, and with Doña Marequita. I +have therefore engaged myself as cook in the house of the Count of ---, +where I am to receive four dollars per month less than what your worship +gives me. I am fond of change, though it be for the worse. _Adieu_, +_mon maître_; may you be as well served as you deserve. Should you +chance, however, to have any pressing need _de mes soins_, send for me +without hesitation, and I will at once give my new master warning, if I +am still with him, and come to you.” + +Thus I was deprived for a time of the services of Antonio. I continued +for a few days without a domestic, at the end of which time I hired a +certain Cantabrian or Basque, a native of the village of Hernani, in +Guipuzcoa, who was strongly recommended to me. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + + +Euscarra—Basque not Irish—Sanscrit and Tartar Dialects—A Vowel +Language—Popular Poetry—The Basques—Their Persons—Basque Women. + +I now entered upon the year 1838, perhaps the most eventful of all those +which I passed in Spain. The _despacho_ still continued open, with a +somewhat increasing sale. Having at this time little of particular +moment with which to occupy myself, I committed to the press two works, +which for some time past had been in the course of preparation. These +were the Gospel of St. Luke in the Spanish gypsy and the Euscarra +languages. {111a} + +With respect to the gypsy Gospel, I have little to say, having already +spoken of it in a former work; {111b} it was translated by myself, +together with the greater part of the New Testament, during my long +intercourse with the Spanish gypsies. Concerning the Luke in Euscarra, +however, it will be as well to be more particular, and to avail myself of +the present opportunity to say a few words concerning the language in +which it was written, and the people for whom it was intended. + +The Euscarra, then, is the proper term for a certain speech or language, +supposed to have been at one time prevalent throughout Spain, but which +is at present confined to certain districts, both on the French and +Spanish side of the Pyrenees, which are laved by the waters of the +Cantabrian Gulf, or Bay of Biscay. This language is commonly known as +the Basque, or Biscayan, which words are mere modifications of the word +Euscarra, the consonant B having been prefixed for the sake of euphony. +Much that is vague, erroneous, and hypothetical has been said and written +concerning this tongue. The Basques assert that it was not only the +original language of Spain, but also of the world, and that from it all +other languages are derived; but the Basques are a very ignorant people, +and know nothing of the philosophy of language. Very little importance, +therefore, need be attached to any opinion of theirs on such a subject. +A few amongst them, however, who affect some degree of learning, contend +that it is neither more nor less than a dialect of the Phœnician, and +that the Basques are the descendants of a Phœnician colony, established +at the foot of the Pyrenees at a very remote period. Of this theory, or +rather conjecture, as it is unsubstantiated by the slightest proof, it is +needless to take further notice than to observe that, provided the +Phœnician language, as many of the _truly learned_ have supposed, and +almost proved, was a dialect of the Hebrew, or closely allied to it, it +were as unreasonable to suppose that the Basque is derived from it as +that the Kamschatkan and Cherokee are dialects of the Greek and Latin. + +There is, however, another opinion with respect to the Basque which +deserves more especial notice, from the circumstance of its being +extensively entertained amongst the _literati_ of various countries of +Europe, more especially England. I allude to the Celtic origin of this +tongue, and its close connexion with the most cultivated of all the +Celtic dialects—the Irish. People who pretend to be well conversant with +the subject, have even gone so far as to assert, that so little +difference exists between the Basque and Irish tongues, that individuals +of the two nations, when they meet together, find no difficulty in +understanding each other, with no other means of communication than their +respective languages; in a word, that there is scarcely a greater +difference between the two than between the French and the Spanish +Basque. Such similarity, however, though so strongly insisted upon, by +no means exists in fact; and perhaps in the whole of Europe it would be +difficult to discover two languages which exhibit fewer points of mutual +resemblance than the Basque and Irish. + +The Irish, like most other European languages, is a dialect of the +Sanscrit, a _remote_ one, as may well be supposed; the corner of the +western world in which it is still preserved being, of all countries in +Europe, the most distant from the proper home of the parent tongue. It +is still, however, a dialect of that venerable and most original speech, +not so closely resembling it, it is true, as the English, Danish, and +those which belong to what is called the Gothic family, and far less than +those of the Sclavonian; for the nearer we approach to the East, in equal +degree the assimilation of languages to this parent stock becomes more +clear and distinct; but still a dialect, agreeing with the Sanscrit in +structure, in the arrangement of words, and in many instances in the +words themselves, which, however modified, may still be recognized as +Sanscrit. But what is the Basque, and to what family does it properly +pertain? + +To two great Asiatic languages all the dialects spoken at present in +Europe may be traced. These two, if not now spoken, still exist in +books, and are, moreover, the languages of two of the principal religions +of the East. I allude to the Tibetian and Sanscrit—the sacred languages +of the followers of Buddh and Bramah. These tongues, though they possess +many words in common, which is easily to be accounted for by their close +proximity, are properly distinct, being widely different in structure. +In what this difference consists, I have neither time nor inclination to +state; suffice it to say, that the Celtic, Gothic, and Sclavonian +dialects in Europe belong to the Sanscrit family, even as in the East the +Persian, and to a less degree the Arabic, Hebrew, etc.; {114} whilst to +the Tibetian or Tartar family in Asia pertain the Mandchou and Mongolian, +the Calmuc and the Turkish of the Caspian sea; and in Europe, the +Hungarian and the Basque _partially_. + +Indeed, this latter language is a strange anomaly, so that upon the whole +it is less difficult to say what it is not, than what it is. It abounds +with Sanscrit words to such a degree that its surface seems strewn with +them. Yet would it be wrong to term it a Sanscrit dialect, for in the +collocation of these words the Tartar form is most decidedly observable. +A considerable proportion of Tartar words is likewise to be found in this +language, though perhaps not in equal numbers to the terms derived from +the Sanscrit. Of these Tartar etymons I shall at present content myself +with citing one, though, if necessary, it were easy to adduce hundreds. +This word is _Jauna_, or, as it is pronounced, _Khauna_—a word in +constant use amongst the Basques, and which is the _Khan_ of the Mongols +and Mandchous, and of the same signification—_Lord_. + +Having closely examined the subject in all its various bearings, and +having weighed what is to be said on one side against what is to be +advanced on the other, I am inclined to rank the Basque rather amongst +the Tartar than the Sanscrit dialects. Whoever should have an +opportunity of comparing the enunciation of the Basques and Tartars +would, from that alone, even if he understood them not, come to the +conclusion that their respective languages were formed on the same +principles. In both occur periods seemingly interminable, during which +the voice gradually ascends to a climax, and then gradually sinks down. + +I have spoken of the surprising number of Sanscrit words contained in the +Basque language, specimens of some of which will be found below. It is +remarkable enough, that in the greater part of the derivatives from the +Sanscrit, the Basque has dropped the initial consonant, so that the word +commences with a vowel. The Basque, indeed, may be said to be almost a +vowel language, the number of consonants employed being comparatively +few; perhaps eight words out of ten commence and terminate with a vowel, +owing to which it is a language to the highest degree soft and melodious, +far excelling in this respect any other language in Europe, not even +excepting the Italian. Here follow a few specimens of Basque words with +the Sanscrit roots in juxtaposition:— + + + + BASQUE. SANSCRIT. +Ardoa {116a} Sandhána _Wine_. +Arratsa Ratri _Night_. +Beguia Akshi _Eye_. +Choria Chiria {116a} _Bird_. +Chacurra Cucura _Dog_. +Erreguiña Rani _Queen_. +{116a} +Icusi Iksha _To see_. +Iru Treya _Three_. +Jan (Khan) Khana _To eat_. +Uria {116a} Puri _City_. +Urruti Dura _Far_. + +Such is the tongue in which I brought out Saint Luke’s Gospel at Madrid. +The translation I procured originally from a Basque physician of the name +of Oteiza. {116b} Previous to being sent to the press, the version had +lain nearly two years in my possession, during which time, and +particularly during my travels, I lost no opportunity of submitting it to +the inspection of those who were considered competent scholars in the +Euscarra. It did not entirely please me; but it was in vain to seek for +a better translation. + +In my early youth I had obtained a slight acquaintance with the Euscarra, +as it exists in books. This acquaintance I considerably increased during +my stay in Spain, and, by occasionally mingling with Basques, was enabled +to understand the spoken language to a certain extent, and even to speak +it, but always with considerable hesitation; for to speak Basque, even +tolerably, it is necessary to have lived in the country from a very early +period. So great are the difficulties attending it, and so strange are +its peculiarities, that it is very rare to find a foreigner possessed of +any considerable skill in the oral language, and the Spaniards consider +the obstacles so formidable that they have a proverb to the effect that +Satan once lived seven years in Biscay, and then departed, finding +himself unable either to understand or to make himself understood. + +There are few inducements to the study of this language. In the first +place, the acquisition of it is by no means necessary even to those who +reside in the countries where it is spoken, the Spanish being generally +understood throughout the Basque provinces pertaining to Spain, and the +French in those pertaining to France. + +In the second place, neither dialect is in possession of any peculiar +literature capable of repaying the toil of the student. There are +various books extant both in French and Spanish Basque, {117} but these +consist entirely of Popish devotion, and are for the most part +translations. + +It will, perhaps, here be asked whether the Basques do not possess +popular poetry, like most other nations, however small and +inconsiderable. They have certainly no lack of songs, ballads, and +stanzas, but of a character by no means entitled to the appellation of +poetry. I have noted down from recitation, a considerable portion of +what they call their poetry, but the only tolerable specimen of verse +which I ever discovered amongst them was the following stanza, which, +after all, is not entitled to very high praise:— + + “Ichasoa urac aundi, + Estu ondoric agueri— + Pasaco ninsaqueni andic + Maitea icustea gatic.” {118a} + +_i.e._ “The waters of the sea are vast, and their bottom cannot be seen; +but over them I will pass, that I may behold my love.” + +The Basques are a singing rather than a poetical people. Notwithstanding +the facility with which their tongue lends itself to the composition of +verse, they have never produced among them a poet with the slightest +pretensions to reputation; but their voices are singularly sweet, and +they are known to excel in musical composition. It is the opinion of a +certain author, the Abbé D’Iharce, {118b} who has written about them, +that they derived the name _Cantabri_, by which they are known to the +Romans, from _Khantor-ber_, signifying sweet singers. They possess much +music of their own, some of which is said to be exceedingly ancient. Of +this music specimens were published at Donostian (San Sebastian) in the +year 1826, edited by a certain Juan Ignacio Iztueta. {118c} These +consist of wild and thrilling marches, to the sound of which it is +believed that the ancient Basques were in the habit of descending from +their mountains to combat with the Romans, and subsequently with the +Moors. Whilst listening to them it is easy to suppose one’s self in the +close vicinity of some desperate encounter. We seem to hear the charge +of cavalry on the sounding plain, the clash of swords, and the rushing of +men down the gorges of hills. This music is accompanied with words, but +such words! Nothing can be imagined more stupid, commonplace, and +uninteresting. So far from being martial, they relate to everyday +incidents, and appear to have no connexion whatever with the music. They +are evidently of modern date. + +In person the Basques are of the middle size, and are active and +athletic. They are in general of fair complexions and handsome features, +and in appearance bear no slight resemblance to certain Tartar tribes of +the Caucasus. Their bravery is unquestionable, and they are considered +as the best soldiery belonging to the Spanish crown: a fact highly +corroborative of the supposition that they are of Tartar origin, the +Tartars being of all races the most warlike, and amongst whom the most +remarkable conquerors have been produced. They are faithful and honest, +and capable of much disinterested attachment; kind and hospitable to +strangers; all of which points are far from being at variance with the +Tartar character. But they are somewhat dull, and their capacities are +by no means of a high order, and in these respects they again resemble +the Tartars. + +No people on earth are prouder than the Basques, but theirs is a kind of +republican pride. They have no nobility amongst them, and no one will +acknowledge a superior. The poorest carman is as proud as the governor +of Tolosa. “He is more powerful than I,” he will say, “but I am of as +good blood; perhaps hereafter I may become a governor myself.” They +abhor servitude, at least out of their own country; and though +circumstances frequently oblige them to seek masters, it is very rare to +find them filling the places of common domestics; they are stewards, +secretaries, accountants, etc. True it is, that it was my own fortune to +obtain a Basque domestic; but then he always treated me more as an equal +than a master, would sit down in my presence, give me his advice unasked, +and enter into conversation with me at all times and occasions. Did I +check him? Certainly not! For in that case he would have left me, and a +more faithful creature I never knew. His fate was a mournful one, as +will appear in the sequel. + +I have said that the Basques abhor servitude, and are rarely to be found +serving as domestics amongst the Spaniards. I allude, however, merely to +the males. The females, on the contrary, have no objection whatever to +enter houses as servants. Women, indeed, amongst the Basques are not +looked upon with all the esteem which they deserve, and are considered as +fitted for little else than to perform menial offices, even as in the +East, where they are viewed in the light of servants and slaves. The +Basque females differ widely in character from the men; they are quick +and vivacious, and have in general much more talent. They are famous for +their skill as cooks, and in most respectable houses of Madrid a Biscayan +female may be found in the kitchen, queen supreme of the culinary +department. {120} + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + + +The Prohibition—Gospel Persecuted—Charge of Sorcery—Ofalia. + +About the middle of January {121a} a swoop was made upon me by my +enemies, in the shape of a peremptory prohibition from the political +governor of Madrid to sell any more New Testaments. This measure by no +means took me by surprise, as I had for some time previously been +expecting something of the kind, on account of the political sentiments +of the ministers then in power. I forthwith paid a visit to Sir George +Villiers, informing him of what had occurred. He promised to do all he +could to cause the prohibition to be withdrawn. Unfortunately, at this +time he had not much influence, having opposed with all his might the +entrance of the _moderado_ {121b} ministry to power, and the nomination +of Ofalia {121c} to the presidency of the cabinet. I however, never lost +confidence in the Almighty, in whose cause I was engaged. + +Matters were going on very well before this check. The demand for +Testaments was becoming considerable, so much so that the clergy were +alarmed, and this step was the consequence. But they had previously +recourse to another, well worthy of them; they attempted to act upon my +fears. One of the ruffians of Madrid, called _Manolos_, came up to me +one night, in a dark street, and told me that unless I discontinued +selling my “Jewish books,” I should have a knife “_nailed in my heart_;” +but I told him to go home, say his prayers, and tell his employers that I +pitied them; whereupon he turned away with an oath. A few days after, I +received an order to send two copies of the Testament to the office of +the political governor, with which I complied, and in less than +twenty-four hours an _alguazil_ arrived at the shop with a notice +prohibiting the further sale of the work. + +One circumstance rejoiced me. Singular as it may appear, the authorities +took no measures to cause my little _despacho_ to be closed, and I +received no prohibition respecting the sale of any work but the New +Testament, and as the Gospel of Saint Luke, in Romany and Basque, would +within a short time be ready for delivery, I hoped to carry on matters in +a small way till better times should arrive. + +I was advised to erase from the shop windows the words “_Despacho_ of the +British and Foreign Bible Society.” This, however, I refused to do. +Those words had tended very much to call attention, which was my grand +object. Had I attempted to conduct things in an underhand manner, I +should, at the time of which I am speaking, scarcely have sold thirty +copies in Madrid, instead of nearly three hundred. People who know me +not, may be disposed to call me rash; but I am far from being so, as I +never adopt a venturous course when any other is open to me. I am not, +however, a person to be terrified by any danger, when I see that braving +it is the only way to achieve an object. + +The booksellers were unwilling to sell my work; I was compelled to +establish a shop of my own. Every shop in Madrid has a name. What name +could I give it but the true one? I was not ashamed of my cause or my +colours. I hoisted them, and fought beneath them, not without success. + +The priestly party in Madrid, in the mean time, spared no effort to +vilify me. They started a publication called _The Friend of the +Christian Religion_, in which a stupid but furious attack upon me +appeared, which I, however, treated with the contempt it deserved. But +not satisfied with this, they endeavoured to incite the populace against +me, by telling them that I was a sorcerer, and a companion of gypsies and +witches, and their agents even called me so in the streets. That I was +an associate of gypsies and fortune-tellers I do not deny. Why should I +be ashamed of their company when my Master mingled with publicans and +thieves? Many of the gypsy race came frequently to visit me; received +instruction, and heard parts of the Gospel read to them in their own +language, and when they were hungry and faint, I gave them to eat and +drink. This might be deemed sorcery in Spain, but I am not without hope +that it will be otherwise estimated in England; and had I perished at +this period, I think there are some who would have been disposed to +acknowledge that I had not lived altogether in vain (always as an +instrument of the “Most Highest”), having been permitted to turn one of +the most valuable books of God into the speech of the most degraded of +His creatures. + +In the mean time I endeavoured to enter into negotiations with the +ministry for the purpose of obtaining permission to sell the New +Testament in Madrid, and the nullification of the prohibition. I +experienced, however, great opposition, which I was unable to surmount. +Several of the ultra-popish bishops, then resident in Madrid, had +denounced the Bible, the Bible Society, and myself. Nevertheless, +notwithstanding their powerful and united efforts, they were unable to +effect their principal object, namely, my expulsion from Madrid and +Spain. The Count Ofalia, notwithstanding he had permitted himself to be +made the instrument, to a certain extent, of these people, would not +consent to be pushed to such a length. Throughout this affair I cannot +find words sufficiently strong to do justice to the zeal and interest +which Sir George Villiers displayed in the cause of the Testament. He +had various interviews with Ofalia on the subject, and in these he +expressed to him his sense of the injustice and tyranny which had been +practised in this instance towards his countryman. + +Ofalia had been moved by these remonstrances, and more than once promised +to do all in his power to oblige Sir George; but then the bishops again +beset him, and playing upon his political if not religious fears, +prevented him from acting a just, honest, and honourable part. At the +desire of Sir George Villiers, I drew up a brief account of the Bible +Society, and an exposition of its views, especially in respect to Spain, +which he presented with his own hand to the Count. I shall not trouble +the reader by inserting this memorial, but content myself with observing, +that I made no attempts to flatter and cajole, but expressed myself +honestly and frankly, as a Christian ought. Ofalia, on reading it, said, +“What a pity that this is a Protestant society, and that all its members +are not Catholics!” + +A few days subsequently, to my great astonishment, he sent a message to +me by a friend, requesting that I would send him a copy of my gypsy +Gospel. I may as well here state, that the fame of this work, though not +yet published, had already spread like wildfire through Madrid, and every +person was passionately eager to possess a copy: indeed, several grandees +of Spain sent messages with similar requests, all of which I however +denied. I instantly resolved to take advantage of this overture on the +part of Count Ofalia, and to call on him myself. I therefore caused a +copy of the Gospel to be handsomely bound, and proceeding to the palace, +was instantly admitted to him. He was a dusky, diminutive person, +between fifty and sixty years of age, with false hair and teeth, but +exceedingly gentlemanly manners. He received me with great affability, +and thanked me for my present; but on my proceeding to speak of the New +Testament, he told me that the subject was surrounded with difficulties, +and that the great body of the clergy had taken up the matter against me; +he conjured me, however, to be patient and peaceable, in which case he +said he would endeavour to devise some plan to satisfy me. Amongst other +things, he observed that the bishops hated a sectarian more than an +atheist. Whereupon I replied, that, like the Pharisees of old, they +cared more for the gold of the temple than the temple itself. Throughout +the whole of our interview he evidently laboured under great fear, and +was continually looking behind and around him, seemingly in dread of +being overheard, which brought to my mind an expression of a friend of +mine, that if there be any truth in metempsychosis, the soul of Count +Ofalia must have originally belonged to a mouse. We parted in kindness, +and I went away, wondering by what strange chance this poor man had +become prime minister of a country like Spain. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. + + +The Two Gospels—The Alguazil—The Warrant—The Good Maria—The Arrest—Sent +to Prison—Reflections—The Reception—The Prison Room—Redress demanded. + +At length the Gospel of Saint Luke in the gypsy language was in a state +of readiness. I therefore deposited a certain number of copies in the +_despacho_, and announced them for sale. The Basque, which was by this +time also printed, was likewise advertised. For this last work there was +little demand. Not so, however, for the gypsy Luke, of which I could +easily have disposed of the whole edition in less than a fortnight. +Long, however, before this period had expired the clergy were up in arms. +“Sorcery!” said one bishop. “There is more in this than we can dive +into,” exclaimed a second. “He will convert all Spain by means of the +gypsy language,” cried a third. And then came the usual chorus on such +occasions, of _Que infamia_! _Que picardia_! At last, having consulted +together, away they hurried to their tool the _corregidor_ or, according +to the modern term, the _gefe politico_ {127} of Madrid. I have +forgotten the name of this worthy, of whom I had myself no personal +knowledge whatever. Judging from his actions, however, and from common +report, I should say that he was a stupid, wrong-headed creature, savage +withal—a _mélange_ of _borrico_, mule, and wolf. Having an inveterate +antipathy to all foreigners, he lent a willing ear to the complaint of my +accusers, and forthwith gave orders to make a seizure of all the copies +of the gypsy Gospel which could be found in the _despacho_. The +consequence was, that a numerous body of _alguazils_ directed their steps +to the Calle del Principe; some thirty copies of the book in question +were pounced upon, and about the same number of Saint Luke in Basque. +With this spoil these satellites returned in triumph to the _gefatura +politica_, where they divided the copies of the gypsy volume amongst +themselves, selling subsequently the greater number at a large price, the +book being in the greatest demand, and thus becoming unintentionally +agents of an heretical society. But every one must live by his trade, +say these people, and they lose no opportunity of making their words +good, by disposing to the best advantage of any booty which falls into +their hands. As no person cared about the Basque Gospel, it was safely +stowed away, with other unmarketable captures, in the warehouses of the +office. + +The gypsy Gospels had now been seized, at least as many as were exposed +for sale in the _despacho_. The _corregidor_ and his friends, however, +were of opinion that many more might be obtained by means of a little +management. Fellows, therefore, hangers on of the police-office, were +daily despatched to the shop in all kinds of disguises, inquiring, with +great seeming anxiety, for “gypsy books,” and offering high prices for +copies. They, however, returned to their employers empty-handed. My +Gallegan was on his guard, informing all who made inquiries, that books +of no description would be sold at the establishment for the present. +Which was in truth the case, as I had given him particular orders to sell +no more under any pretence whatever. + +I got no credit, however, for my frank dealing. The _corregidor_ and his +confederates could not persuade themselves but that, by some means +mysterious and unknown to them, I was daily selling hundreds of these +gypsy books, which were to revolutionize the country, and annihilate the +power of the Father of Rome. A plan was therefore resolved upon, by +means of which they hoped to have an opportunity of placing me in a +position which would incapacitate me for some time from taking any active +measures to circulate the Scriptures, either in gypsy or in any other +language. + +It was on the morning of the first of May, {129a} [1838,] if I forget +not, that an unknown individual made his appearance in my apartment as I +was seated at breakfast; he was a mean-looking fellow, about the middle +stature, with a countenance on which knave was written in legible +characters. The hostess ushered him in, and then withdrew. I did not +like the appearance of my visitor, but assuming some degree of courtesy, +I requested him to sit down, and demanded his business. “I come from his +excellency the political {129b} chief of Madrid,” he replied, “and my +business is to inform you that his excellency is perfectly aware of your +proceedings, and is at any time able to prove that you are still +disposing of in secret those evil books which you have been forbidden to +sell.” “Is he so?” I replied; “pray let him do so forthwith; but what +need of giving me information?” “Perhaps,” continued the fellow, “you +think his worship has no witnesses; know, however, that he has many, and +respectable ones too.” “Doubtless,” I replied, “and from the +respectability of your own appearance, you are perhaps one of them. But +you are occupying my time unprofitably; begone, therefore, and tell +whoever sent you, that I have by no means a high opinion of his wisdom.” +“I shall go when I please,” retorted the fellow; “do you know to whom you +are speaking? Are you aware that if I think fit I can search your +apartment, yes, even below your bed? What have we here,” he continued, +and commenced with his stick poking a heap of papers which lay upon a +chair; “what have we here? Are these also papers of the gypsies?” I +instantly determined upon submitting no longer to this behaviour, and +taking the fellow by the arm, led him out of the apartment; and then, +still holding him, conducted him downstairs from the third floor in which +I lived, into the street, looking him steadfastly in the face the whole +while. + +The fellow had left his _sombrero_ on the table, which I despatched to +him by the landlady, who delivered it into his hand as he stood in the +street staring with distended eyes at the balcony of my apartment. + +“A _trampa_ has been laid for you, _Don Jorge_,” said Maria Diaz, when +she had re-ascended from the street; “that _corchete_ came here with no +other intention than to have a dispute with you. Out of every word you +have said he will make a long history, as is the custom with these +people; indeed, he said, as I handed him his hat, that ere twenty-four +hours were over, you should see the inside of the prison of Madrid.” + +In effect, during the course of the morning, I was told that a warrant +had been issued for my apprehension. The prospect of incarceration, +however, did not fill me with much dismay; an adventurous life and +inveterate habits of wandering having long familiarized me to situations +of every kind, so much so as to feel myself quite as comfortable in a +prison as in the gilded chambers of palaces; indeed, more so, as in the +former place I can always add to my store of useful information, whereas +in the latter, ennui frequently assails me. I had, moreover, been +thinking for some time past of paying a visit to the prison, partly in +the hope of being able to say a few words of Christian instruction to the +criminals, and partly with the view of making certain investigations in +the robber language of Spain, a subject about which I had long felt much +curiosity; indeed, I had already made application for admittance into the +Carcel de la Corte, {131} but had found the matter surrounded with +difficulties, as my friend Ofalia would have said. I rather rejoiced, +then, in the opportunity which was now about to present itself of +entering the prison, not in the character of a visitor for an hour, but +as a martyr, and as one suffering in the holy cause of religion. I was +determined, however, to disappoint my enemies for that day at least, and +to render null the threat of the _alguazil_, that I should be imprisoned +within twenty-four hours. I therefore took up my abode for the rest of +the day in a celebrated French tavern in the Calle del Caballero de +Gracia, which, as it was one of the most fashionable and public places in +Madrid, I naturally concluded was one of the last where the _corregidor_ +would think of seeking me. + +About ten at night, Maria Diaz, to whom I had communicated the place of +my retreat, arrived with her son, Juan Lopez. “_O_, _señor_,” said she, +on seeing me, “they are already in quest of you; the _alcalde_ of the +_barrio_, with a large _comitiva_ of _alguazils_ and such-like people, +have just been at our house with a warrant for your imprisonment from the +_corregidor_. They searched the whole house, and were much disappointed +at not finding you. Woe is me, what will they do when they catch you?” +“Be under no apprehensions, good Maria,” said I; “you forget that I am an +Englishman, and so it seems does the _corregidor_. Whenever he catches +me, depend upon it he will be glad enough to let me go. For the present, +however, we will permit him to follow his own course, for the spirit of +folly seems to have seized him.” + +I slept at the tavern, and in the forenoon of the following day repaired +to the Embassy, where I had an interview with Sir George, to whom I +related every circumstance of the affair. He said that he could scarcely +believe that the _corregidor_ entertained any serious intentions of +imprisoning me; in the first place, because I had committed no offence; +and in the second, because I was not under the jurisdiction of that +functionary, but under that of the captain-general, who was alone +empowered to decide upon matters which relate to foreigners, and before +whom I must be brought in the presence of the consul of my nation. +“However,” said he, “there is no knowing to what length these jacks in +office may go. I therefore advise you, if you are under any +apprehension, to remain as my guest at the Embassy for a few days, for +here you will be quite safe.” I assured him that I was under no +apprehension whatever, having long been accustomed to adventures of this +kind. From the apartment of Sir George I proceeded to that of the first +secretary of embassy, Mr. Southern, with whom I entered into +conversation. I had scarcely been there a minute when my servant +Francisco rushed in, much out of breath, and in violent agitation, +exclaiming in Basque, “_Niri jauna_, the _alguaziloac_, and the +_corchetoac_, and all the other _lapurrac_ {133} are again at the house. +They seem half mad, and not being able to find you, are searching your +papers, thinking, I suppose, that you are hid among them.” Mr. Southern +here interrupting him, inquired of me what all this meant. Whereupon I +told him, saying at the same time, that it was my intention to proceed at +once to my lodgings. “But perhaps these fellows will arrest you,” said +Mr. S., “before we can interfere.” “I must take my chance as to that,” I +replied, and presently afterwards departed. + +Ere, however, I had reached the middle of the street of Alcalá, two +fellows came up to me, and telling me that I was their prisoner, +commanded me to follow them to the office of the _corregidor_. They +were, in fact, _alguazils_, who, suspecting that I might enter or come +out of the Embassy, had stationed themselves in the neighbourhood. I +instantly turned round to Francisco, and told him in Basque to return to +the Embassy, and to relate there to the secretary what had just occurred. +The poor fellow set off like lightning, turning half round, however, to +shake his fist, and to vent a Basque execration at the two _lapurrac_, as +he called the _alguazils_. + +They conducted me to the _gefatura_, or office of the _corregidor_, where +they ushered me into a large room, and motioned me to sit down on a +wooden bench. They then stationed themselves on each side of me. There +were at least twenty people in the apartment beside ourselves, evidently +from their appearance officials of the establishment. They were all well +dressed, for the most part in the French fashion, in round hats, coats, +and pantaloons, and yet they looked what in reality they were, Spanish +_alguazils_, spies, and informers: and Gil Blas, could he have waked from +his sleep of two centuries, would, notwithstanding the change of fashion, +have had no difficulty in recognizing them. They glanced at me as they +stood lounging about the room; then gathered themselves together in a +circle and began conversing in whispers. I heard one of them say, “He +understands the seven gypsy jargons.” {134a} Then presently another, +evidently from his language an Andalusian, said, “_Es muy diestro_, +{134b} and can ride a horse and dart a knife full as well as if he came +from my own country.” Thereupon they all turned round and regarded me +with a species of interest, evidently mingled with respect, which most +assuredly they would not have exhibited had they conceived that I was +merely an honest man bearing witness in a righteous cause. + +I waited patiently on the bench at least one hour, expecting every moment +to be summoned before my lord the _corregidor_. I suppose, however, that +I was not deemed worthy of being permitted to see so exalted a personage, +for at the end of that time, an elderly man—one, however, of the +_alguazil_ genus—came into the room and advanced directly towards me. +“Stand up,” said he. I obeyed. “What is your name?” he demanded. I +told him. “Then,” he replied, exhibiting a paper which he held in his +hand, “_señor_, it is the will of his excellency the _corregidor_, that +you be forthwith sent to prison.” + +He looked at me steadfastly as he spoke, perhaps expecting that I should +sink into the earth at the formidable name of prison; I, however, only +smiled. He then delivered the paper, which I suppose was the warrant for +my committal, into the hand of one of my two captors, and obeying a sign +which they made, I followed them. + +I subsequently learned that the secretary of legation, Mr. Southern, had +been despatched by Sir George, as soon as the latter had obtained +information of my arrest, and had been waiting at the office during the +greater part of the time that I was there. He had demanded an audience +of the _corregidor_, in which he had intended to have remonstrated with +him, and pointed out to him the danger to which he was subjecting himself +by the rash step which he was taking. The sullen functionary, however, +had refused to see him, thinking, perhaps, that to listen to reason would +be a dereliction of dignity; by this conduct, however, he most +effectually served me, as no person, after such a specimen of +uncalled-for insolence, felt disposed to question the violence and +injustice which had been practised towards me. + +The _alguazils_ conducted me across the Plaza Mayor to the Carcel de la +Corte, or prison of the court, as it is called. Whilst going across the +square, I remembered that this was the place where, in “the good old +times,” the Inquisition of Spain was in the habit of holding its solemn +_Autos da fé_, and I cast my eye to the balcony of the city hall, where +at the most solemn of them all, the last of the Austrian line in Spain +sat, and after some thirty heretics, of both sexes, had been burnt by +fours and by fives, wiped his face, perspiring with heat, and black with +smoke, and calmly inquired, “_No hay mas_?” {136} for which exemplary +proof of patience he was much applauded by his priests and confessors, +who subsequently poisoned him. “And here am I,” thought I, “who have +done more to wound Popery than all the poor Christian martyrs that ever +suffered in this accursed square, merely sent to prison, from which I am +sure to be liberated in a few days, with credit and applause. Pope of +Rome! I believe you to be as malicious as ever, but you are sadly +deficient in power. You are become paralytic, _Batuschca_, and your club +has degenerated to a crutch.” + +We arrived at the prison, which stands in a narrow street not far from +the great square. We entered a dusky passage, at the end of which was a +wicket door. My conductors knocked, a fierce visage peered through the +wicket; there was an exchange of words, and in a few moments I found +myself within the prison of Madrid, in a kind of corridor which +overlooked at a considerable altitude what appeared to be a court, from +which arose a hubbub of voices, and occasionally wild shouts and cries. +Within the corridor, which served as a kind of office, were several +people; one of them sat behind a desk, and to him the _alguazils_ went +up, and after discoursing with him some time in low tones, delivered the +warrant into his hands. He perused it with attention, then rising he +advanced to me. What a figure! He was about forty years of age, and his +height might have amounted to some six feet two inches, had he not been +curved much after the fashion of the letter S. No weazel ever appeared +lanker, and he looked as if a breath of air would have been sufficient to +blow him away. His face might certainly have been called handsome, had +it not been for its extraordinary and portentous meagreness; his nose was +like an eagle’s bill, his teeth white as ivory, his eyes black—oh, how +black!—and fraught with a strange expression; his skin was dark, and the +hair of his head like the plumage of the raven. A deep quiet smile dwelt +continually on his features; but with all the quiet it was a cruel smile, +such a one as would have graced the countenance of a Nero. “_Mais en +revanche personne n’étoit plus honnête_”. “_Caballero_,” said he, “allow +me to introduce myself to you as the _alcayde_ of this prison. I +perceive by this paper that I am to have the honour of your company for a +time, a short time doubtless, beneath this roof; I hope you will banish +every apprehension from your mind. I am charged to treat you with all +the respect which is due to the illustrious nation to which you belong, +and which a cavalier of such exalted category as yourself is entitled to +expect. A needless charge, it is true, as I should only have been too +happy of my own accord to have afforded you every comfort and attention. +_Caballero_, you will rather consider yourself here as a guest than a +prisoner; you will be permitted to roam over every part of this house +whenever you think proper. You will find matters here not altogether +below the attention of a philosophic mind. Pray issue whatever commands +you may think fit to the turnkeys and officials, even as if they were +your own servants, I will now have the honour of conducting you to your +apartment—the only one at present unoccupied. We invariably reserve it +for cavaliers of distinction. I am happy to say that my orders are again +in consonance with my inclination. No charge whatever will be made for +it to you, though the daily hire of it is not unfrequently an ounce of +gold. I entreat you, therefore, to follow me, cavalier, who am at all +times and seasons the most obedient and devoted of your servants.” Here +he took off his hat and bowed profoundly. + +Such was the speech of the _alcayde_ of the prison of Madrid; a speech +delivered in pure sonorous Castilian, with calmness, gravity, and almost +with dignity; a speech which would have done honour to a gentleman of +high birth, to Monsieur Bassompierre, of the Old Bastile, receiving an +Italian prince, or the High Constable of the Tower an English duke +attainted of high treason. Now, who in the name of wonder was this +_alcayde_? + +One of the greatest rascals in all Spain. A fellow who had more than +once, by his grasping cupidity, and by his curtailment of the miserable +rations of the prisoners, caused an insurrection in the court below, only +to be repressed by bloodshed, and by summoning military aid; a fellow of +low birth, who, only five years previous, had been _drummer_ to a band of +royalist volunteers! + +But Spain is the land of extraordinary characters. + +I followed the _alcayde_ to the end of the corridor, where was a massive +grated door, on each side of which sat a grim fellow of a turnkey. The +door was opened, and turning to the right we proceeded down another +corridor, in which were many people walking about, whom I subsequently +discovered to be prisoners like myself, but for political offences. At +the end of this corridor, which extended the whole length of the _patio_, +we turned into another, and the first apartment in this was the one +destined for myself. It was large and lofty, but totally destitute of +every species of furniture with the exception of a huge wooden pitcher, +intended to hold my daily allowance of water. “_Caballero_,” said the +_alcayde_, “the apartment is without furniture, as you see. It is +already the third hour of the _tarde_, I therefore advise you to lose no +time in sending to your lodgings for a bed and whatever you may stand in +need of; the _llavero_ shall do your bidding. _Caballero_, adieu, till I +see you again.” + +I followed his advice, and, writing a note in pencil to Maria Diaz, I +despatched it by the _llavero_, and then, sitting down on the wooden +pitcher, I fell into a reverie, which continued for a considerable time. + +Night arrived, and so did Maria Diaz, attended by two porters and +Francisco, all loaded with furniture. A lamp was lighted, charcoal was +kindled in the _brasero_, and the prison gloom was to a certain degree +dispelled. + +I now left my seat on the pitcher, and sitting down on a chair, proceeded +to despatch some wine and viands, which my good hostess had not forgotten +to bring with her. Suddenly Mr. Southern entered. He laughed heartily +at finding me engaged in the manner I have described. “B---,” said he, +“you are the man to get through the world, for you appear to take all +things coolly, and as matters of course. That, however, which most +surprises me with respect to you is, your having so many friends; here +you are in prison, surrounded by people ministering to your comforts. +Your very servant is your friend, instead of being your worst enemy, as +is usually the case. That Basque of yours is a noble fellow. I shall +never forget how he spoke for you, when he came running to the Embassy to +inform us of your arrest. He interested both Sir George and myself in +the highest degree: should you ever wish to part with him, I hope you +will give me the refusal of his services. But now to other matters.” He +then informed me that Sir George had already sent in an official note to +Ofalia, demanding redress for such a wanton outrage on the person of a +British subject. “You must remain in prison,” said he, “to-night, but +depend upon it that to-morrow, if you are disposed, you may quit in +triumph.” “I am by no means disposed for any such thing,” I replied. +“They have put me in prison for their pleasure, and I intend to remain +here for my own.” “If the confinement is not irksome to you,” said Mr. +Southern, “I think, indeed, it will be your wisest plan; the government +have committed themselves sadly with regard to you; and, to speak +plainly, we are by no means sorry for it. They have on more than one +occasion treated ourselves very cavalierly, and we have now, if you +continue firm, an excellent opportunity of humbling their insolence. I +will instantly acquaint Sir George with your determination, and you shall +hear from us early on the morrow.” He then bade me farewell; and +flinging myself on my bed, I was soon asleep in the prison of Madrid. + + + + +CHAPTER XL. + + +Ofalia—The Juez—Carcel de la Corte—Sunday in Prison—Robber Dress—Father +and Son—Characteristic Behaviour—The Frenchman—Prison Allowance—Valley of +the Shadow—Pure Castilian—Balseiro—The Cave—Robber Glory. + +Ofalia quickly perceived that the imprisonment of a British subject in a +manner so illegal as that which had attended my own was likely to be +followed by rather serious consequences. Whether he himself had at all +encouraged the _corregidor_ in his behaviour towards me, it is impossible +to say; the probability is that he had not: the latter, however, was an +officer of his own appointing, for whose actions himself and the +government were to a certain extent responsible. Sir George had already +made a very strong remonstrance upon the subject, and had even gone so +far as to state in an official note that he should desist from all +farther communication with the Spanish government until full and ample +reparation had been afforded me for the violence to which I had been +subjected. Ofalia’s reply was, that immediate measures should be taken +for my liberation, and that it would be my own fault if I remained in +prison. He forthwith ordered a _juez de la primera instancia_, {141} a +kind of solicitor-general, to wait upon me, who was instructed to hear my +account of the affair, and then to dismiss me with an admonition to be +cautious for the future. My friends of the Embassy, however, had advised +me how to act in such a case. Accordingly, when the _juez_ on the second +night of my imprisonment made his appearance at the prison, and summoned +me before him, I went, but on his proceeding to question me, I absolutely +refused to answer. “I deny your right to put any questions to me,” said +I; “I entertain, however, no feelings of disrespect to the government or +to yourself, _Caballero Juez_; but I have been illegally imprisoned. So +accomplished a jurist as yourself cannot fail to be aware that, according +to the laws of Spain, I, as a foreigner, could not be committed to prison +for the offence with which I had been charged, without previously being +conducted before the captain-general of this royal city, whose duty it is +to protect foreigners, and see that the laws of hospitality are not +violated in their persons. + +_Juez_.—Come, come, _Don Jorge_, I see what you are aiming at; but listen +to reason: I will not now speak to you as a _juez_, but as a friend who +wishes you well, and who entertains a profound reverence for the British +nation. This is a foolish affair altogether; I will not deny that the +political chief acted somewhat hastily on the information of a person not +perhaps altogether worthy of credit. No great damage, however, has been +done to you, and to a man of the world like yourself, a little adventure +of this kind is rather calculated to afford amusement than anything else. +Now be advised, forget what has happened; you know that it is the part +and duty of a Christian to forgive. So, _Don Jorge_, I advise you to +leave this place forthwith; I dare say you are getting tired of it. You +are this moment free to depart; repair at once to your lodgings, where I +promise you that no one shall be permitted to interrupt you for the +future. It is getting late, and the prison doors will speedily be closed +for the night. _Vamos_, _Don Jorge_, _á la casa_, _á la posada_! {143a} + +_Myself_.—“But Paul said unto them, they have beaten us openly +uncondemned, being Romans, and have cast us into prison; and now do they +thrust us out privily? Nay, verily: but let them come themselves and +fetch us out.” {143b} + +I then bowed to the _juez_, who shrugged his shoulders and took snuff. +On leaving the apartment I turned to the _alcayde_, who stood at the +door: “Take notice,” said I, “that I will not quit this prison till I +have received full satisfaction for being sent hither uncondemned. You +may expel me if you please, but any attempt to do so shall be resisted +with all the bodily strength of which I am possessed.” + +“Your worship is right,” said the _alcayde_, with a bow, but in a low +voice. + +Sir George, on hearing of this affair, sent me a letter in which he +highly commended my resolution not to leave the prison for the present, +at the same time begging me to let him know if there were anything that +he could send me from the Embassy to render my situation more tolerable. + +I will now leave for the present my own immediate affairs, and proceed to +give some account of the prison of Madrid and its inmates. + +The Carcel de la Corte, where I now was, though the principal prison of +Madrid, is one which certainly in no respect does credit to the capital +of Spain. Whether it was originally intended for the purpose to which it +is at present applied, I have no opportunity of knowing. The chances, +however, are, that it was not; indeed it was not till of late years that +the practice of building edifices expressly intended and suited for the +incarceration of culprits came at all into vogue. Castles, convents, and +deserted palaces, have in all countries, at different times, been +converted into prisons, which practice still holds good upon the greater +part of the continent, and more particularly in Spain and Italy, which +accounts to a certain extent for the insecurity of the prisons, and the +misery, want of cleanliness, and unhealthiness which in general pervade +them. + +I shall not attempt to enter into a particular description of the prison +of Madrid; indeed it would be quite impossible to describe so irregular +and rambling an edifice. Its principal features consisted of two courts, +the one behind the other: intended for the great body of the prisoners to +take air and recreation in. Three large vaulted dungeons, or +_calabozos_, occupied three sides of this court, immediately below the +corridors of which I have already spoken. These dungeons were roomy +enough to contain respectively from one hundred to one hundred and fifty +prisoners, who were at night secured therein with lock and bar, but +during the day were permitted to roam about the courts as they thought +fit. The second court was considerably larger than the first, though it +contained but two dungeons, horribly filthy and disgusting places; this +second court being used for the reception of the lower grades of thieves. +Of the two dungeons one was, if possible, yet more horrible than the +other; it was called the _gallineria_, or chicken-coop, and within it +every night were pent up the young fry of the prison, wretched boys from +seven to fifteen years of age, the greater part almost in a state of +nudity. The common bed of all the inmates of these dungeons was the +ground, between which and their bodies nothing intervened, save +occasionally a _manta_ or horse-cloth, or perhaps a small mattress; this +latter luxury was, however, of exceedingly rare occurrence. + +Besides the _calabozos_ connected with the courts were other dungeons in +various parts of the prison; some of them quite dark, intended for the +reception of those whom it might be deemed expedient to treat with +peculiar severity. There was likewise a ward set apart for females. +Connected with the principal corridor were many small apartments, where +resided prisoners confined for debt or for political offences. And, +lastly, there was a small _capilla_, or chapel, in which prisoners cast +for death passed the last three days of their existence in company of +their ghostly advisers. + +I shall not soon forget my first Sunday in prison, Sunday is the gala day +of the prison, at least of that of Madrid, and whatever robber finery is +to be found within it is sure to be exhibited on that day of holiness. +There is not a set of people in the world more vain than robbers in +general, more fond of cutting a figure whenever they have an opportunity, +and of attracting the eyes of their fellow-creatures by the gallantry of +their appearance. The famous Sheppard of olden times delighted in +sporting a suit of Genoese velvet, and when he appeared in public +generally wore a silver-hilted sword at his side; whilst Vaux and +Hayward, heroes of a later day, were the best dressed men on the _pavé_ +of London. Many of the Italian bandits go splendidly decorated, and the +very gypsy robber has a feeling for the charms of dress; the cap alone of +the Haram Pasha, or leader of the cannibal gypsy band which infested +Hungary towards the conclusion of the last century, was adorned with gold +and jewels to the value of four thousand guilders. Observe, ye vain and +frivolous, how vanity and crime harmonize! The Spanish robbers are as +fond of this species of display as their brethren of other lands, and, +whether in prison or out of it, are never so happy as when, decked out in +a profusion of white linen, they can loll in the sun, or walk jauntily up +and down. + +Snow-white linen, indeed, constitutes the principal feature in the robber +foppery of Spain. Neither coat nor jacket is worn over the shirt, the +sleeves of which are wide and flowing, only a waistcoat of green or blue +silk with an abundance of silver buttons, which are intended more for +show than use, as the vest is seldom buttoned. Then there are wide +trousers, something after the Turkish fashion; around the waist is a +crimson _faja_, or girdle, and about the head is tied a gaudily coloured +handkerchief from the loom of Barcelona; light pumps and silk stockings +complete the robber’s array. This dress is picturesque enough, and well +adapted to the fine sunshiny weather of the Peninsula; there is a dash of +effeminacy about it, however, hardly in keeping with the robber’s +desperate trade. It must not, however, be supposed that it is every +robber who can indulge in all this luxury; there are various grades of +thieves, some poor enough, with scarcely a rag to cover them. Perhaps in +the crowded prison of Madrid there were not more than twenty who +exhibited the dress which I have attempted to describe above; these were +_jente de reputacion_, {146} tip-top thieves, mostly young fellows, who, +though they had no money of their own, were supported in prison by their +_majas_ and _amigas_, {147a} females of a certain class, who form +friendships with robbers, and whose glory and delight it is to administer +to the vanity of these fellows with the wages of their own shame and +abasement. These females supplied their _cortejos_ with the snowy linen, +washed, perhaps, by their own hands in the waters of the Manzanares, for +the display of the Sunday, when they would themselves make their +appearance, dressed _à la maja_, and from the corridors would gaze with +admiring eyes upon the robbers vapouring about in the court below. + +Amongst those of the snowy linen who most particularly attracted my +attention, were a father and son; the former was a tall athletic figure +of about thirty, by profession a housebreaker, and celebrated throughout +Madrid for the peculiar dexterity which he exhibited in his calling. He +was now in prison for a rather atrocious murder committed in the dead of +night, in a house at Caramanchel, {147b} in which his only accomplice was +his son, a child under seven years of age. “The apple,” as the Danes +say, “had not fallen far from the tree;” the imp was in every respect the +counterpart of the father, though in miniature. He, too, wore the robber +shirt-sleeves, the robber waistcoat with the silver buttons, the robber +kerchief round his brow, and, ridiculous enough, a long Manchegan knife +in the crimson _faja_. He was evidently the pride of the ruffian father, +who took all imaginable care of this chick of the gallows, would dandle +him on his knee, and would occasionally take the cigar from his own +moustached lips and insert it in the urchin’s mouth. The boy was the pet +of the court, for the father was one of the _valientes_ of the prison, +and those who feared his prowess, and wished to pay their court to him, +were always fondling the child. What an enigma is this world of ours! +How dark and mysterious are the sources of what is called crime and +virtue! If that infant wretch become eventually a murderer like his +father, is he to blame? Fondled by robbers, already dressed as a robber, +born of a robber, whose own history was perhaps similar. Is it right? . . . + +Oh, man, man, seek not to dive into the mystery of moral good and evil; +confess thyself a worm, cast thyself on the earth, and murmur with thy +lips in the dust, Jesus, Jesus! + +What most surprised me with respect to the prisoners was their good +behaviour; I call it good when all things are taken into consideration, +and when I compare it with that of the general class of prisoners in +foreign lands. They had their occasional bursts of wild gaiety, their +occasional quarrels, which they were in the habit of settling in a corner +of the interior court with their long knives; {148} the result not +unfrequently being death, or a dreadful gash in the face or the abdomen; +but, upon the whole, their conduct was infinitely superior to what might +have been expected from the inmates of such a place. Yet this was not +the result of coercion, or any particular care which was exercised over +them; for perhaps in no part of the world are prisoners so left to +themselves and so utterly neglected as in Spain: the authorities having +no farther anxiety about them than to prevent their escape; not the +slightest attention being paid to their moral conduct, and not a thought +bestowed upon their health, comfort, or mental improvement, whilst within +the walls. Yet in this prison of Madrid, and I may say in Spanish +prisons in general, for I have been an inmate of more than one, {149} the +ears of the visitor are never shocked with horrid blasphemy and +obscenity, as in those of some other countries, and more particularly in +civilized France; nor are his eyes outraged and himself insulted, as he +would assuredly be, were he to look down upon the courts from the +galleries of the Bicêtre. And yet in this prison of Madrid were some of +the most desperate characters in Spain; ruffians who had committed acts +of cruelty and atrocity sufficient to make the flesh shudder. But +gravity and sedateness are the leading characteristics of the Spaniards, +and the very robber, except in those moments when he is engaged in his +occupation, and then no one is more sanguinary, pitiless, and wolfishly +eager for booty, is a being who can be courteous and affable, and who +takes pleasure in conducting himself with sobriety and decorum. + +Happily, perhaps, for me, that my acquaintance with the ruffians of Spain +commenced and ended in the towns about which I wandered, and in the +prisons into which I was cast for the Gospel’s sake, and that, +notwithstanding my long and frequent journeys, I never came in contact +with them on the road or in the _despoblado_. + +The most ill-conditioned being in the prison was a Frenchman, though +probably the most remarkable. He was about sixty years of age, of the +middle stature, but thin and meagre, like most of his countrymen; he had +a villanously formed head, according to all the rules of craniology, and +his features were full of evil expression. He wore no hat, and his +clothes, though in appearance nearly new, were of the coarsest +description. He generally kept aloof from the rest, and would stand for +hours together leaning against the walls with his arms folded, glaring +sullenly on what was passing before him. He was not one of the professed +_valientes_, for his age prevented his assuming so distinguished a +character, and yet all the rest appeared to hold him in a certain awe: +perhaps they feared his tongue, which he occasionally exerted in pouring +forth withering curses upon those who incurred his displeasure. He spoke +perfectly good Spanish, and to my great surprise excellent Basque, in +which he was in the habit of conversing with Francisco, who, lolling from +the window of my apartment, would exchange jests and witticisms with the +prisoners in the court below, with whom he was a great favourite. + +One day when I was in the _patio_, to which I had free admission whenever +I pleased, by permission of the _alcayde_, I went up to the Frenchman, +who stood in his usual posture, leaning against the wall, and offered him +a cigar. I do not smoke myself, but it will never do to mix among the +lower classes of Spain unless you have a cigar to present occasionally. +The man glared at me ferociously for a moment, and appeared to be on the +point of refusing my offer with perhaps a hideous execration. I repeated +it, however, pressing my hand against my heart, whereupon suddenly the +grim features relaxed, and with a genuine French grimace, and a low bow, +he accepted the cigar, exclaiming, “_Ah_, _monsieur_, _pardon_, _mais +c’est faire trop d’honneur à un pauvre diable comme moi_.” + +“Not at all,” said I, “we are both fellow-prisoners in a foreign land, +and being so we ought to countenance each other. I hope that whenever I +have need of your co-operation in this prison you will afford it me.” + +“_Ah_, _monsieur_,” exclaimed the Frenchman in rapture, “_vous avez bien +raison_; _il faut que les étrangers se donnent la main dans ce . . . pays +de barbares_. _Tenez_,” he added in a whisper, “if you have any plan for +escaping, and require my assistance, I have an arm and a knife at your +service: you may trust me, and that is more than you could any of these +_sacrées gens ici_,” glancing fiercely round at his fellow-prisoners. + +“You appear to be no friend to Spain and the Spaniards,” said I. “I +conclude that you have experienced injustice at their hands. For what +have they immured you in this place?” + +“_Pour rien du tout_, _c’est à dire pour une bagatelle_; but what can you +expect from such animals? For what are you imprisoned? Did I not hear +say for gypsyism and sorcery?” + +“Perhaps you are here for your opinions?” + +“_Ah_, _mon Dieu_, _non_; _je ne suis pas homme à semblable betise_. I +have no opinions. _Je faisois . . . mais ce n’importe_; _je me trouve +ici_, _où je crève de faim_.” + +“I am sorry to see a brave man in such a distressed condition,” said I; +“have you nothing to subsist upon beyond the prison allowance? Have you +no friends?” + +“Friends in this country? You mock me; here one has no friends, unless +one buy them. I am bursting with hunger. Since I have been here I have +sold the clothes off my back, that I might eat, for the prison allowance +will not support nature, and of half of that we are robbed by the _Batu_, +as they called the barbarian of a governor. _Les haillons_ which now +cover me were given by two or three devotees who sometimes visit here. I +would sell them if they would fetch aught. I have not a _sou_, and for +want of a few crowns I shall be garroted within a month unless I can +escape, though, as I told you before, I have done nothing, a mere +bagatelle; but the worst crimes in Spain are poverty and misery.” + +“I have heard you speak Basque; are you from French Biscay?” + +“I am from Bordeaux, _monsieur_; but I have lived much on the Landes and +in Biscay, _travaillant à mon métier_. I see by your look that you wish +to know my history. I shall not tell it you. It contains nothing that +is remarkable. See, I have smoked out your cigar; you may give me +another, and add a dollar if you please, _nous sommes crevés ici de +faim_. I would not say as much to a Spaniard, but I have a respect for +your countrymen; I know much of them; I have met them at Maida and the +other place.” {152} + +“Nothing remarkable in his history!” Why, or I greatly err, one chapter +of his life, had it been written, would have unfolded more of the wild +and wonderful than fifty volumes of what are in general called adventures +and hairbreadth escapes by land and sea. A soldier! what a tale could +that man have told of marches and retreats, of battles lost and won, +towns sacked, convents plundered! perhaps he had seen the flames of +Moscow ascending to the clouds, and had “tried his strength with nature +in the wintry desert,” pelted by the snowstorm, and bitten by the +tremendous cold of Russia. And what could he mean by plying his trade in +Biscay and Landes, but that he had been a robber in those wild regions, +of which the latter is more infamous for brigandage and crime than any +other part of the French territory? Nothing remarkable in his history! +then what history in the world contains aught that is remarkable? + +I gave him the cigar and dollar. He received them, and then once more +folding his arms, leaned back against the wall, and appeared to sink +gradually into one of his reveries. I looked him in the face and spoke +to him, but he did not seem either to hear or see me. His mind was +perhaps wandering in that dreadful valley of the shadow, into which the +children of earth, whilst living, occasionally find their way: that +dreadful region where there is no water, where hope dwelleth not, where +nothing lives but the undying worm. This valley is the facsimile of +hell, and he who has entered it has experienced here on earth for a time +what the spirits of the condemned are doomed to suffer through ages +without end. + +He was executed about a month from this time. The bagatelle for which he +was confined was robbery and murder by the following strange device. In +concert with two others, he hired a large house in an unfrequented part +of the town, to which place he would order tradesmen to convey valuable +articles, which were to be paid for on delivery; those who attended paid +for their credulity with the loss of their lives and property. Two or +three had fallen into the snare. I wished much to have had some private +conversation with this desperate man, and in consequence begged of the +_alcayde_ to allow him to dine with me in my own apartment; whereupon +Monsieur Bassompierre, for so I will take the liberty of calling the +governor, his real name having escaped my memory, took off his hat, and, +with his usual smile and bow, replied in purest Castilian, “English +cavalier, and I hope I may add friend, pardon me, that it is quite out of +my power to gratify your request, founded, I have no doubt, on the most +admirable sentiments of philosophy. Any of the other gentlemen beneath +my care shall, at any time you desire it, be permitted to wait upon you +in your apartment. I will even go so far as to cause their irons, if +irons they wear, to be knocked off in order that they may partake of your +refection with that comfort which is seemly and convenient: but to the +gentleman in question I must object; he is the most evil disposed of the +whole of this family, and would most assuredly breed a _funcion_ either +in your apartment or in the corridor, by an attempt to escape. Cavalier, +_me pesa_, {154} but I cannot accede to your request. But with respect +to any other gentleman, I shall be most happy, even Balseiro, who, though +strange things are told of him, still knows how to comport himself, and +in whose behaviour there is something both of formality and politeness, +shall this day share your hospitality if you desire it, cavalier.” + +Of Balseiro I have already had occasion to speak in the former part of +this narrative. He was now confined in an upper story of the prison, in +a strong room, with several other malefactors. He had been found guilty +of aiding and assisting one Pepe Candelas, a thief of no inconsiderable +renown, in a desperate robbery perpetrated in open daylight upon no less +a personage than the queen’s milliner, a Frenchwoman, whom they bound in +her own shop, from which they took goods and money to the amount of five +or six thousand dollars. Candelas had already expiated his crime on the +scaffold, but Balseiro, who was said to be by far the worst ruffian of +the two, had by dint of money, an ally which his comrade did not possess, +contrived to save his own life; the punishment of death, to which he was +originally sentenced, having been commuted to twenty years’ hard labour +in the _presidio_ of Malaga. I visited this worthy, and conversed with +him for some time through the wicket of the dungeon. He recognized me, +and reminded me of the victory which I had once obtained over him, in the +trial of our respective skill in the crabbed _Gitano_, at which Sevilla +the bull-fighter was umpire. + +Upon my telling him that I was sorry to see him in such a situation, he +replied that it was an affair of no manner of consequence, as within six +weeks he should be conducted to the _presidio_, from which, with the +assistance of a few ounces distributed amongst the guards, he could at +any time escape. “But whither would you flee?” I demanded. “Can I not +flee to the land of the Moors,” replied Balseiro, “or to the English in +the camp of Gibraltar; or, if I prefer it, cannot I return to this +_foro_, and live as I have hitherto done, _choring_ the _gachos_; {155} +what is to hinder me? Madrid is large, and Balseiro has plenty of +friends, especially among the _lumias_,” he added, with a smile. I spoke +to him of his ill-fated accomplice Candelas; whereupon his face assumed a +horrible expression. “I hope he is in torment,” exclaimed the robber. +The friendship of the unrighteous is never of long duration; the two +worthies had, it seems, quarrelled in prison; Candelas having accused the +other of bad faith and an undue appropriation to his own use of the +_corpus delicti_ in various robberies which they had committed in +company. + +I cannot refrain from relating the subsequent history of this Balseiro. +Shortly after my own liberation, too impatient to wait until the +_presidio_ should afford him a chance of regaining his liberty, he, in +company with some other convicts, broke through the roof of the prison +and escaped. He instantly resumed his former habits, committing several +daring robberies, both within and without the walls of Madrid. I now +come to his last, I may call it his master crime, a singular piece of +atrocious villany. Dissatisfied with the proceeds of street robbery and +house-breaking, he determined upon a bold stroke, by which he hoped to +acquire money sufficient to support him in some foreign land in luxury +and splendour. + +There was a certain comptroller of the queen’s household, by name +Gabiria, {156} a Basque by birth, and a man of immense possessions: this +individual had two sons, handsome boys, between twelve and fourteen years +of age, whom I had frequently seen, and indeed conversed with, in my +walks on the bank of the Manzanares, which was their favourite promenade. +These children, at the time of which I am speaking, were receiving their +education at a certain seminary in Madrid. Balseiro, being well +acquainted with the father’s affection for his children, determined to +make it subservient to his own rapacity. He formed a plan, which was +neither more nor less than to steal the children, and not to restore them +to their parent until he had received an enormous ransom. This plan was +partly carried into execution: two associates of Balseiro, well dressed, +drove up to the door of the seminary where the children were, and, by +means of a forged letter, purporting to be written by the father, induced +the schoolmaster to permit the boys to accompany them for a country +jaunt, as they pretended. About five leagues from Madrid Balseiro had a +cave, in a wild unfrequented spot between the Escurial and a village +called Torre Lodones: to this cave the children were conducted, where +they remained in durance under the custody of the two accomplices; +Balseiro in the mean time remaining in Madrid for the purpose of +conducting negociations with the father. The father, however, was a man +of considerable energy, and instead of acceding to the terms of the +ruffian, communicated in a letter, instantly took the most vigorous +measures for the recovery of his children. Horse and foot were sent out +to scour the country, and in less than a week the children were found +near the cave, having been abandoned by their keepers, who had taken +fright on hearing of the decided measures which had been resorted to; +they were, however, speedily arrested and identified by the boys as their +ravishers. Balseiro, perceiving that Madrid was becoming too hot to hold +him, attempted to escape, but whether to the camp of Gibraltar or to the +land of the Moor, I know not; he was recognized, however, at a village in +the neighbourhood of Madrid, and being apprehended, was forthwith +conducted to the capital, where he shortly after terminated his existence +on the scaffold, with his two associates; Gabiria and his children being +present at the ghastly scene, which they surveyed from a chariot at their +ease. + +Such was the end of Balseiro, of whom I should certainly not have said so +much, but for the affair of the crabbed _Gitano_. Poor wretch! he +acquired that species of immortality which is the object of the +aspirations of many a Spanish thief, whilst vapouring about in the +_patio_, dressed in the snowy linen; the rape of the children of Gabiria +made him at once the pet of the fraternity. A celebrated robber, with +whom I was subsequently imprisoned at Seville, spoke his eulogy in the +following manner:— + +“Balseiro was a very good subject, and an honest man. He was the head of +our family, _Don Jorge_; we shall never see his like again; pity that he +did not sack the _parné_, and escape to the camp of the Moor, _Don +Jorge_.” + + + + +CHAPTER XLI. + + +Maria Diaz—Priestly Vituperation—Antonio’s Visit—Antonio at Service—A +Scene—Benedict Mol—Wandering in Spain—The Four Evangelien. + +“Well,” said I to Maria Diaz, on the third morning after my imprisonment, +“what do the people of Madrid say to this affair of mine?” + +“I do not know what the people of Madrid in general say about it, +probably they do not take much interest in it; indeed, imprisonments at +the present time are such common matters, that people seem to be quite +indifferent to them; the priests, however, are in no slight commotion, +and confess that they have committed an imprudent thing in causing you to +be arrested by their friend the _corregidor_ of Madrid.” + +“How is that?” I inquired. “Are they afraid that their friend will be +punished?” + + “Not so, _señor_,” replied Maria; “slight grief indeed would it cause +them, however great the trouble in which he had involved himself on their +account; for this description of people have no affection, and would not +care if all their friends were hanged, provided they themselves escaped. +But they say that they have acted imprudently in sending you to prison, +inasmuch as by so doing they have given you an opportunity of carrying a +plan of yours into execution. ‘This fellow is a _bribon_,’ say they, +‘and has commenced tampering with the prisoners; they have taught him +their language, which he already speaks as well as if he were a son of +the prison. As soon as he comes out he will publish a thieves’ Gospel, +which will be a still more dangerous affair than the gypsy one, for the +gypsies are few, but the thieves! woe is us; we shall all be +Lutheranized. What infamy, what rascality! It was a trick of his own. +He was always eager to get into prison, and now, in evil hour, we have +sent him there, _el bribonazo_; there will be no safety for Spain until +he is hanged; he ought to be sent to the four hells, where at his leisure +he might translate his fatal gospels into the language of the demons.’” + +“I but said three words to the _alcayde_ of the prison,” said I, +“relative to the jargon used by the children of the prison.” + +“Three words! _Don Jorge_; and what may not be made out of three words? +You have lived amongst us to little purpose if you think we require more +than three words to build a system with. Those three words about the +thieves and their tongue were quite sufficient to cause it to be reported +throughout Madrid that you had tampered with the thieves, had learnt +their language, and had written a book which was to overturn Spain, open +to the English the gates of Cadiz, give Mendizabal all the church plate +and jewels, and to Don Martin Luther the archiepiscopal palace of +Toledo.” + +Late in the afternoon of rather a gloomy day, as I was sitting in the +apartment which the _alcayde_ had allotted me, I heard a rap at the door. +“Who is that?” I exclaimed. “_C’est moi_, _mon maître_,” cried a +well-known voice, and presently in walked Antonio Buchini, dressed in the +same style as when I first introduced him to the reader, namely, in a +handsome but rather faded French surtout, vest, and pantaloons, with a +diminutive hat in one hand, and holding in the other a long and slender +cane. + +“_Bon jour_, _mon maître_,” said the Greek; then, glancing around the +apartment, he continued, “I am glad to find you so well lodged. If I +remember right, _mon maître_, we have slept in worse places during our +wanderings in Galicia and Castile.” + +“You are quite right, Antonio,” I replied; “I am very comfortable. Well, +this is kind of you to visit your ancient master, more especially now he +is in the toils; I hope, however, that by so doing you will not offend +your present employer. His dinner hour must be at hand; why are you not +in the kitchen?” + +“Of what employer are you speaking, _mon maître_?” demanded Antonio. + +“Of whom should I speak but Count ---, to serve whom you abandoned me, +being tempted by an offer of a monthly salary less by four dollars than +that which I was giving you?” + +“Your worship brings an affair to my remembrance which I had long since +forgotten. I have at present no other master than yourself, _Monsieur +Georges_, for I shall always consider you as my master, though I may not +enjoy the felicity of waiting upon you.” + +“You have left the Count, then,” said I, “after remaining three days in +the house, according to your usual practice.” + +“Not three hours, _mon maître_,” replied Antonio; “but I will tell you +the circumstances. Soon after I left you I repaired to the house of +_Monsieur le Comte_; I entered the kitchen, and looked about me. I +cannot say that I had much reason to be dissatisfied with what I saw: the +kitchen was large and commodious, and everything appeared neat and in its +proper place, and the domestics civil and courteous; yet, I know not how +it was, the idea at once rushed into my mind that the house was by no +means suited to me, and that I was not destined to stay there long; so, +hanging my haversack upon a nail, and sitting down on the dresser, I +commenced singing a Greek song, as I am in the habit of doing when +dissatisfied. The domestics came about me, asking questions. I made +them no answer, however, and continued singing till the hour for +preparing the dinner drew nigh, when I suddenly sprang on the floor, and +was not long in thrusting them all out of the kitchen, telling them that +they had no business there at such a season. I then at once entered upon +my functions. I exerted myself, _mon maître_—I exerted myself, and was +preparing a repast which would have done me honour; there was, indeed, +some company expected that day, and I therefore determined to show my +employer that nothing was beyond the capacity of his Greek cook. _Eh +bien_, _mon maître_, all was going on remarkably well, and I felt almost +reconciled to my new situation, when who should rush into the kitchen but +_le fils de la maison_, my young master, an ugly urchin of thirteen years +or thereabouts. He bore in his hand a manchet of bread, which, after +prying about for a moment, he proceeded to dip in the pan where some +delicate woodcocks were in the course of preparation. You know, _mon +maître_, how sensitive I am on certain points, for I am no Spaniard, but +a Greek, and have principles of honour. Without a moment’s hesitation I +took my young master by the shoulders, and hurrying him to the door, +dismissed him in the manner which he deserved. Squalling loudly, he +hurried away to the upper part of the house. I continued my labours, but +ere three minutes had elapsed, I heard a dreadful confusion above stairs, +_on faisoit une horrible tintamarre_, and I could occasionally +distinguish oaths and execrations. Presently doors were flung open, and +there was an awful rushing downstairs, a gallopade. It was my lord the +count, his lady, and my young master, followed by a regular bevy of women +and _filles de chambre_. Far in advance of all, however, was my lord +with a drawn sword in his hand, shouting, ‘Where is the wretch who has +dishonoured my son, where is he? He shall die forthwith.’ I know not +how it was, _mon maître_, but I just then chanced to spill a large bowl +of _garbanzos_, which were intended for the _puchera_ of the following +day. They were uncooked, and were as hard as marbles; these I dashed +upon the floor, and the greater part of them fell just about the doorway. +_Eh bien_, _mon maître_, in another moment in bounded the count, his eyes +sparkling like coals, and, as I have already said, with a rapier in his +hand. ‘_Tenez_, _gueux enragé_,’ he screamed, making a desperate lunge at +me; but ere the words were out of his mouth, his foot slipping on the +pease, he fell forward with great violence at his full length, and his +weapon flew out of his hand, _comme une flêche_. You should have heard +the outcry which ensued—there was a terrible confusion: the count lay +upon the floor to all appearance stunned. I took no notice, however, +continuing busily employed. They at last raised him up, and assisted him +till he came to himself, though very pale and much shaken. He asked for +his sword: all eyes were now turned upon me, and I saw that a general +attack was meditated. Suddenly I took a large _casserole_ from the fire +in which various eggs were frying; this I held out at arm’s length, +peering at it along my arm as if I were curiously inspecting it, my right +foot advanced and the other thrown back as far as possible. All stood +still, imagining, doubtless, that I was about to perform some grand +operation, and so I was: for suddenly the sinister leg advancing, with +one rapid _coup de pied_, I sent the _casserole_ and its contents flying +over my head, so that they struck the wall far behind me. This was to +let them know that I had broken my staff and had shaken the dust off my +feet; so casting upon the count the peculiar glance of the Sceirote cooks +when they feel themselves insulted, and extending my mouth on either side +nearly as far as the ears, I took down my haversack and departed, singing +as I went the song of the ancient Demos, who, when dying, asked for his +supper, and water wherewith to lave his hands— + + Ό ἤλιος ἐβασίλευε, κἰ ὁ Δημος διατάζει, + Σύρτε, παιδιά μου, ’σ τὸ νερὸν ψωμὶ νὰ φάτ' ὰπόψε. {164} + +And in this manner, _mon maître_, I left the house of the Count of ---.” + +_Myself_.—And a fine account you have given of yourself; by your own +confession, your behaviour was most atrocious. Were it not for the many +marks of courage and fidelity which you have exhibited in my service, I +would from this moment hold no further communication with you. + +_Antonio_.—_Mais qu’est ce que vous voudriez_, _mon maître_? Am I not a +Greek, full of honour and sensibility? Would you have the cooks of +Sceira and Stambul submit to be insulted here in Spain by the sons of +counts rushing into the temple with manchets of bread? _Non_, _non_, +_mon maître_, you are too noble to require that, and what is more, _too +just_. But we will talk of other things. _Mon maître_, I came not +alone, there is one now waiting in the corridor anxious to speak to you. + +_Myself_.—Who is it? + +_Antonio_.—One whom you have met, _mon maître_, in various and strange +places. + +_Myself_.—But who is it? + +_Antonio_.—One who will come to a strange end, _for so it is written_. +The most extraordinary of all the Swiss, he of Saint James—_Der Schatz +Gräber_. {165} + +_Myself_.—Not Benedict Mol? + +“_Yaw_, _mein lieber Herr_,” said Benedict, pushing open the door which +stood ajar; “it is myself. I met _Herr Anton_ in the street, and hearing +that you were in this place, I came with him to visit you.” + +_Myself_.—And in the name of all that is singular, how is it that I see +you in Madrid again? I thought that by this time you were returned to +your own country. + +_Benedict_.—Fear not, _lieber Herr_, I shall return thither in good time; +but not on foot, but with mules and coach. The _Schatz_ is still yonder, +waiting to be dug up, and now I have better hope than ever; plenty of +friends, plenty of money. See you not how I am dressed, _lieber Herr_? + +And verily his habiliments were of a much more respectable appearance +than any which he had sported on former occasions. His coat and +pantaloons, which were of light green, were nearly new. On his head he +still wore an Andalusian hat, but the present one was neither old nor +shabby, but fresh and glossy, and of immense altitude of cone; whilst in +his hand, instead of the ragged staff which I had observed at Saint James +and Oviedo, he now carried a huge bamboo rattan, surmounted by the grim +head of either a bear or lion, curiously cut out of pewter. + +“You have all the appearance of a treasure-seeker returned from a +successful expedition,” I exclaimed. + +“Or rather,” interrupted Antonio, “of one who has ceased to trade on his +own bottom, and now goes seeking treasures at the cost and expense of +others.” + +I questioned the Swiss minutely concerning his adventures since I last +saw him, when I left him at Oviedo to pursue my route to Santander. From +his answers I gathered that he had followed me to the latter place; he +was, however, a long time in performing the journey, being weak from +hunger and privation. At Santander he could hear no tidings of me, and +by this time the trifle which he had received from me was completely +exhausted. He now thought of making his way into France, but was afraid +to venture through the disturbed provinces, lest he should fall into the +hands of the Carlists, who he conceived might shoot him as a spy. No one +relieving him at Santander, he departed and begged his way till he found +himself in some part of Aragon, but where he scarcely knew. “My misery +was so great,” said Benedict, “that I nearly lost my senses. Oh, the +horror of wandering about the savage hills and wide plains of Spain, +without money and without hope! Sometimes I became desperate, when I +found myself amongst rocks and _barrancos_, perhaps after having tasted +no food from sunrise to sunset; and then I would raise my staff towards +the sky and shake it, crying, _Lieber Herr Gott_, _ach lieber Herr Gott_, +you must help me now or never; if you tarry I am lost; you must help me +now, now! And once, when I was raving in this manner, methought I heard +a voice—nay, I am sure I heard it—sounding from the hollow of a rock, +clear and strong; and it cried, ‘_Der Schatz_, _der Schatz_, it is not +yet dug up; to Madrid, to Madrid. The way to the _Schatz_ is through +Madrid.’ And then the thought of the _Schatz_ once more rushed into my +mind, and I reflected how happy I might be, could I but dig up the +_Schatz_. No more begging then; no more wandering amidst horrid +mountains and deserts; so I brandished my staff, and my body and my limbs +became full of new and surprising strength, and I strode forward, and was +not long before I reached the high road; and then I begged and bettled as +I best could, until I reached Madrid.” + +“And what has befallen you since you reached Madrid?” I inquired. “Did +you find the treasure in the streets?” + +On a sudden Benedict became reserved and taciturn, which the more +surprised me, as, up to the present moment, he had at all times been +remarkably communicative with respect to his affairs and prospects. From +what I could learn from his broken hints and innuendos, it appeared that, +since his arrival at Madrid, he had fallen into the hands of certain +people who had treated him with kindness, and provided him both with +money and clothes; not from disinterested motives, however, but having an +eye to the treasure. “They expect great things from me,” said the Swiss; +“and perhaps, after all, it would have been more profitable to have dug +up the treasure without their assistance, always provided that were +possible.” Who his new friends were he either knew not or would not tell +me, save that they were people in power. He said something about Queen +Christina and an oath which he had taken in the presence of a bishop on +the crucifix and the four _Evangelien_. I thought that his head was +turned, and forbore questioning. Just before taking his departure, he +observed, “_Lieber Herr_, pardon me for not being quite frank towards +you, to whom I owe so much, but I dare not; I am not now my own man. It +is, moreover, an evil thing at all times to say a word about treasure +before you have secured it. There was once a man in my own country who +dug deep into the earth until he arrived at a copper vessel which +contained a _Schatz_. Seizing it by the handle, he merely exclaimed in +his transport, ‘I have it!’ that was enough, however: down sank the +kettle, though the handle remained in his grasp. That was all he ever +got for his trouble and digging. Farewell, _lieber Herr_, I shall +speedily be sent back to Saint James to dig up the _Schatz_; but I will +visit you ere I go—farewell.” + + + + +CHAPTER XLII. + + +Liberation from Prison—The Apology—Human Nature—The Greek’s Return—Church +of Rome—Light of Scripture—Archbishop of Toledo—An Interview—Stones of +Price—A Resolution—The Foreign Language—Benedict’s Farewell—Treasure Hunt +at Compostella—Truth and Fiction. + +I remained about three weeks in the prison of Madrid, and then left it. +If I had possessed any pride, or harboured any rancour against the party +who had consigned me to durance, the manner in which I was restored to +liberty would no doubt have been highly gratifying to those evil +passions; the government having acknowledged, by a document transmitted +to Sir George, that I had been incarcerated on insufficient grounds, and +that no stigma attached itself to me from the imprisonment I had +undergone; at the same time agreeing to defray all the expenses to which +I had been subjected throughout the progress of this affair. + +It moreover expressed its willingness to dismiss the individual owing to +whose information I had been first arrested, namely, the _corchete_, or +police officer, who had visited me in my apartments in the Calle de +Santiago, and behaved himself in the manner which I have described in a +former chapter. I declined, however, to avail myself of this +condescension of the government, more especially as I was informed that +the individual in question had a wife and family, who, if he were +disgraced, would be at once reduced to want. I moreover considered that, +in what he had done and said, he had probably only obeyed some private +orders which he had received; I therefore freely forgave him, and if he +does not retain his situation at the present moment, it is certainly no +fault of mine. + +I likewise refused to accept any compensation for my expenses, which were +considerable. It is probable that many persons in my situation would +have acted very differently in this respect, and I am far from saying +that herein I acted discreetly or laudably; but I was averse to receive +money from people such as those of which the Spanish Government was +composed, people whom I confess I heartily despised, and I was unwilling +to afford them an opportunity of saying that after they had imprisoned an +Englishman unjustly, and without a cause, he condescended to receive +money at their hands. In a word, I confess my own weakness; I was +willing that they should continue my debtors, and have little doubt that +they had not the slightest objection to remain so: they kept their money, +and probably laughed in their sleeves at my want of common sense. + +The heaviest loss which resulted from my confinement, and for which no +indemnification could be either offered or received, was in the death of +my affectionate and faithful Basque Francisco, who, having attended me +during the whole time of my imprisonment, caught the pestilential typhus +or gaol fever, which was then raging in the Carcel de la Corte, of which +he expired within a few days subsequent to my liberation. {170} His +death occurred late one evening. The next morning, as I was lying in bed +ruminating on my loss, and wondering of what nation my next servant would +be, I heard a noise which seemed to be that of a person employed +vigorously in cleaning boots or shoes, and at intervals a strange +discordant voice singing snatches of a song in some unknown language: +wondering who it could be, I rang the bell. + +“Did you ring, _mon maître_?” said Antonio, appearing at the door with +one of his arms deeply buried in a boot. + +“I certainly did ring,” said I, “but I scarcely expected that you would +have answered the summons.” + +“_Mais pourquoi non_, _mon maître_?” cried Antonio. “Who should serve +you now but myself? _N’est pas que le sieur François est mort_? And did +I not say, as soon as I heard of his departure, I shall return to my +functions _chez mon maître_, _Monsieur Georges_?” + +“I suppose you had no other employment, and on that account you came.” + +“_Au contraire_, _mon maître_,” replied the Greek, “I had just engaged +myself at the house of the Duke of Frias, {171} from whom I was to +receive ten dollars per month more than I shall accept from your worship; +but on hearing that you were without a domestic, I forthwith told the +duke, though it was late at night, that he would not suit me; and here I +am.” + +“I shall not receive you in this manner,” said I; “return to the duke, +apologize for your behaviour, request your dismission in a regular way; +and then, if his grace is willing to part with you, as will most probably +be the case, I shall be happy to avail myself of your services.” + +It is reasonable to expect that after having been subjected to an +imprisonment which my enemies themselves admitted to be unjust, I should +in future experience more liberal treatment at their hands than that +which they had hitherto adopted towards me. The sole object of my +ambition at this time was to procure toleration for the sale of the +Gospel in this unhappy and distracted kingdom, and to have attained this +end I would not only have consented to twenty such imprisonments in +succession as that which I had undergone, but would gladly have +sacrificed life itself. I soon perceived, however, that I was likely to +gain nothing by my incarceration; on the contrary, I had become an object +of personal dislike to the government since the termination of this +affair, which it was probable I had never been before; their pride and +vanity were humbled by the concessions which they had been obliged to +make in order to avoid a rupture with England. This dislike they were +now determined to gratify, by thwarting my views as much as possible. I +had an interview with Ofalia on the subject uppermost in my mind; I found +him morose and snappish. “It will be for your interest to be still,” +said he; “beware! you have already thrown the whole _corte_ into +confusion; beware, I repeat; another time you may not escape so easily.” +“Perhaps not,” I replied, “and perhaps I do not wish it; it is a pleasant +thing to be persecuted for the Gospel’s sake. I now take the liberty of +inquiring whether, if I attempt to circulate the Word of God, I am to be +interrupted.” “Of course,” exclaimed Ofalia; “the Church forbids such +circulation.” “I shall make the attempt, however,” I exclaimed. “Do you +mean what you say?” demanded Ofalia, arching his eyebrows and elongating +his mouth. “Yes,” I continued, “I shall make the attempt in every +village in Spain to which I can penetrate.” + +Throughout my residence in Spain the clergy were the party from which I +experienced the strongest opposition; and it was at their instigation +that the government originally adopted those measures which prevented any +extensive circulation of the sacred volume through the land. I shall not +detain the course of my narrative with reflections as to the state of a +Church, which, though it pretends to be founded on Scripture, would yet +keep the light of Scripture from all mankind, if possible. But Rome is +fully aware that she is not a Christian Church, and having no desire to +become so, she acts prudently in keeping from the eyes of her followers +the page which would reveal to them the truths of Christianity. Her +agents and minions throughout Spain exerted themselves to the utmost to +render my humble labours abortive, and to vilify the work which I was +attempting to disseminate. All the ignorant and fanatical clergy (the +great majority) were opposed to it, and all those who were anxious to +keep on good terms with the court of Rome were loud in their cry against +it. There was, however, one section of the clergy, a small one, it is +true, rather favourably disposed towards the circulation of the Gospel, +though by no means inclined to make any particular sacrifice for the +accomplishment of such an end: these were such as professed liberalism, +which is supposed to mean a disposition to adopt any reform, both in +civil and Church matters, which may be deemed conducive to the weal of +the country. Not a few amongst the Spanish clergy were supporters of +this principle, or at least declared themselves so; some doubtless for +their own advancement, hoping to turn the spirit of the times to their +own personal profit: others, it is to be hoped, from conviction, and a +pure love of the principle itself. Amongst these were to be found, at +the time of which I am speaking, several bishops. It is worthy of +remark, however, that of all these not one but owed his office, not to +the Pope, who disowned them one and all, but to the Queen Regent, the +professed head of liberalism throughout all Spain. It is not, therefore, +surprising that men thus circumstanced should feel rather disposed than +not to countenance any measure or scheme at all calculated to favour the +advancement of liberalism; and surely such an one was the circulation of +the Scriptures. I derived but little assistance from their good will, +however, supposing that they entertained some, as they never took any +decided stand, nor lifted up their voices in a bold and positive manner, +denouncing the conduct of those who would withhold the light of Scripture +from the world. At one time I hoped by their instrumentality to +accomplish much in Spain in the Gospel cause; but I was soon undeceived, +and became convinced that reliance on what they would effect was like +placing the hand on a staff of reed, which will only lacerate the flesh. +More than once some of them sent messages to me, expressive of their +esteem, and assuring me how much the cause of the Gospel was dear to +their hearts. I even received an intimation that a visit from me would +be agreeable to the Archbishop of Toledo, the Primate of Spain. + +Of this personage I can say but little, his early history being entirely +unknown to me. At the death of Ferdinand, I believe, he was Bishop of +Mallorca, a small insignificant see, of very scanty revenues, which +perhaps he had no objection to exchange for one more wealthy. It is +probable, however, that had he proved a devoted servant of the Pope, and +consequently a supporter of legitimacy, he would have continued to the +day of his death to fill the episcopal chair of Mallorca; but he was said +to be a liberal, and the Queen Regent thought fit to bestow upon him the +dignity of Archbishop of Toledo, by which he became the head of the +Spanish Church. The Pope, it is true, had refused to ratify the +nomination, on which account all good Catholics were still bound to +consider him as Bishop of Mallorca, and not as Primate of Spain. He, +however, received the revenues belonging to the see, which, though only a +shadow of what they originally were, were still considerable, and lived +in the primate’s palace at Madrid, so that if he were not archbishop _de +jure_, he was what many people would have considered much better, +archbishop _de facto_. {175} + +Hearing that this personage was a personal friend of Ofalia, who was said +to entertain a very high regard for him, I determined upon paying him a +visit, and accordingly one morning betook myself to the palace in which +he resided. I experienced no difficulty in obtaining an interview, being +forthwith conducted to his presence by a common kind of footman, an +Asturian, I believe, whom I found seated on a stone bench in the +entrance-hall. When I was introduced, the archbishop was alone, seated +behind a table in a large apartment, a kind of drawing-room; he was +plainly dressed, in a black cassock and silken cap; on his finger, +however, glittered a superb amethyst, the lustre of which was truly +dazzling. He rose for a moment as I advanced, and motioned me to a chair +with his hand. He might be about sixty years of age; his figure was very +tall, but he stooped considerably, evidently from feebleness, and the +pallid hue of ill-health overspread his emaciated features. When he had +reseated himself, he dropped his head, and appeared to be looking on the +table before him. + +“I suppose your lordship knows who I am?” said I, at last breaking +silence. + +The archbishop bent his head towards the right shoulder, in a somewhat +equivocal manner, but said nothing. + +“I am he whom the _Manolos_ of Madrid call _Don Jorgito el Ingles_; I am +just come out of prison, whither I was sent for circulating my Lord’s +Gospel in this kingdom of Spain.” + +The archbishop made the same equivocal motion with his head, but still +said nothing. + +“I was informed that your lordship was desirous of seeing me, and on that +account I have paid you this visit.” + +“I did not send for you,” said the archbishop, suddenly, raising his head +with a startled look. + +“Perhaps not: I was, however, given to understand that my presence would +be agreeable; but as that does not seem to be the case, I will leave.” + +“Since you are come, I am very glad to see you.” + +“I am very glad to hear it,” said I, reseating myself; “and since I am +here, we may as well talk of an all-important matter, the circulation of +the Scripture. Does your lordship see any way by which an end so +desirable might be brought about?” + +“No,” said the archbishop, faintly. + +“Does not your lordship think that a knowledge of the Scripture would +work inestimable benefit in these realms?” + +“I don’t know.” + +“Is it probable that the government may be induced to consent to the +circulation?” + +“How should I know?” and the archbishop looked me in the face. + +I looked in the face of the archbishop; there was an expression of +helplessness in it, which almost amounted to dotage. “Dear me,” thought +I, “whom have I come to on an errand like mine? Poor man! you are not +fitted to play the part of Martin Luther, and least of all in Spain. I +wonder why your friends selected you to be Archbishop of Toledo; they +thought perhaps that you would do neither good nor harm, and made choice +of you, as they sometimes do primates in my own country, for your +incapacity. You do not seem very happy in your present situation; no +very easy stall this of yours. You were more comfortable, I trow, when +you were the poor Bishop of Mallorca; could enjoy your _puchera_ then +without fear that the salt would turn out sublimate. No fear then of +being smothered in your bed. A _siesta_ is a pleasant thing when one is +not subject to be disturbed by ‘the sudden fear.’ I wonder whether they +have poisoned you already,” I continued, half aloud, as I kept my eyes +fixed on his countenance, which methought was becoming ghastly. + +“Did you speak, _Don Jorge_?” demanded the archbishop. + +“That is a fine brilliant on your lordship’s hand,” said I. + +“You are fond of brilliants, _Don Jorge_,” said the archbishop, his +features brightening up; “_vaya_! so am I; they are pretty things. Do +you understand them?” + +“I do,” said I, “and I never saw a finer brilliant than your own, one +excepted; it belonged to an acquaintance of mine, a Tartar Khan. He did +not bear it on his finger, however; it stood in the frontlet of his +horse, where it shone like a star. He called it _Daoud Scharr_, which, +being interpreted, meaneth _light of war_.” + +“_Vaya_!” said the archbishop, “how very extraordinary! I am glad you +are fond of brilliants, _Don Jorge_. Speaking of horses, reminds me that +I have frequently seen you on horseback. _Vaya_! how you ride! It is +dangerous to be in your way.” + +“Is your lordship fond of equestrian exercise?” + +“By no means, _Don Jorge_; I do not like horses. It is not the practice +of the Church to ride on horseback. We prefer mules; they are the +quieter animals. I fear horses, they kick so violently.” + +“The kick of a horse is death,” said I, “if it touches a vital part. I +am not, however, of your lordship’s opinion with respect to mules: a good +_ginete_ may retain his seat on a horse however vicious, but a +mule—_vaya_! when a false mule _tira por detras_, {178a} I do not believe +that the Father of the Church himself could keep the saddle a moment, +however sharp his bit.” + +As I was going away, I said, “And with respect to the Gospel, your +lordship, what am I to understand?” + +“_No sé_,” {178b} said the archbishop, again bending his head towards the +right shoulder, whilst his features resumed their former vacant +expression. And thus terminated my interview with the Archbishop of +Toledo. + +“It appears to me,” said I to Maria Diaz, on returning home; “it appears +to me, _Marequita mia_, that if the Gospel in Spain is to wait for +toleration until these liberal bishops and archbishops come forward +boldly in its behalf, it will have to tarry a considerable time.” + +“I am much of your worship’s opinion,” answered Maria; “a fine thing, +truly, it would be to wait till they exerted themselves in its behalf. +_Ca_! {179a} the idea makes me smile. Was your worship ever innocent +enough to suppose that they cared one tittle about the Gospel or its +cause? _Vaya_! they are true priests, and had only self-interest in view +in their advances to you. The Holy Father disowns them, and they would +now fain, by awaking his fears and jealousy, bring him to some terms; but +let him once acknowledge them, and see whether they would admit you to +their palaces or hold any intercourse with you! ‘Forth with the fellow!’ +they would say; ‘_vaya_! is he not a Lutheran? Is he not an enemy to the +Church? _Á la horca_, _á la horca_!’ {179b} I know this family better +than you do, _Don Jorge_.” + +“It is useless tarrying,” said I; “nothing, however, can be done in +Madrid. I cannot sell the work at the _despacho_, and I have just +received intelligence that all the copies exposed for sale in the +libraries in the different parts of Spain which I have visited have been +sequestrated by order of the government. My resolution is taken: I shall +mount my horses, which are neighing in the stable, and betake myself to +the villages and plains of dusty Spain. _Al campo_, _al campo_: {180a} +‘Ride forth, because of the word of righteousness, and thy right hand +shall show thee terrible things. {180b} I will ride forth, Maria.” + +“Your worship can do no better; and allow me here to tell you, that for +every single book you might sell in a _despacho_ in the city, you may +dispose of one hundred amongst the villages, always provided you offer +them cheap; for in the country money is rather scant. _Vaya_! should I +not know? am I not a villager myself, a _villana_ from the Sagra? Ride +forth, therefore: your horses are neighing in the stall, as your worship +says, and you might almost have added that the _Señor_ Antonio is +neighing in the house. He says he has nothing to do, on which account he +is once more dissatisfied and unsettled. He finds fault with everything, +but more particularly with myself. This morning I saluted him, and he +made me no reply, but twisted his mouth in a manner very uncommon in this +land of Spain.” + +“A thought strikes me,” said I; “you have mentioned the Sagra; why should +not I commence my labours amongst the villages of that district?” + +“Your worship can do no better,” replied Maria; “the harvest is just over +there, and you will find the people comparatively unemployed, with +leisure to attend and listen to you; and if you follow my advice, you +will establish yourself at Villa Seca, in the house of my fathers, where +at present lives my lord and husband. Go, therefore, to Villa Seca in +the first place, and from thence you can sally forth with the _Señor_ +Antonio upon your excursions. Peradventure, my husband will accompany +you; and if so, you will find him highly useful. The people of Villa +Seca are civil and courteous, your worship; when they address a +foreigner, they speak to him at the top of their voice and in Gallegan.” + +“In Gallegan!” I exclaimed. + +“They all understand a few words of Gallegan, which they have acquired +from the mountaineers, who occasionally assist them in cutting the +harvest, and as Gallegan is the only foreign language they know, they +deem it but polite to address a foreigner in that tongue. _Vaya_! it is +not a bad village, that of Villa Seca, nor are the people; the only +ill-conditioned person living there is his reverence the curate.” + +I was not long in making preparations for my enterprise. A considerable +stock of Testaments were sent forward by an _arriero_, I myself followed +the next day. Before my departure, however, I received a visit from +Benedict Mol. + +“I am come to bid you farewell, _lieber Herr_; tomorrow I return to +Compostella.” + +“On what errand?” + +“To dig up the _Schatz_, _lieber Herr_. For what else should I go? For +what have I lived until now, but that I may dig up the _Schatz_ in the +end?” + +“You might have lived for something better,” I exclaimed. “I wish you +success, however. But on what grounds do you hope? Have you obtained +permission to dig? Surely you remember your former trials in Galicia?” + +“I have not forgotten them, _lieber Herr_, nor the journey to Oviedo, nor +‘the seven acorns,’ nor the fight with death in the _barranco_. But I +must accomplish my destiny. I go now to Galicia, as is becoming a Swiss, +at the expense of the government, with coach and mule, I mean in the +_galera_. I am to have all the help I require, so that I can dig down to +the earth’s centre if I think fit. I—but I must not tell your worship, +for I am sworn on ‘the four _Evangelien_,’ not to tell.” + +“Well, Benedict, I have nothing to say, save that I hope you will succeed +in your digging.” + +“Thank you, _lieber Herr_, thank you; and now farewell. Succeed! I +shall succeed!” Here he stopped short, started, and looking upon me with +an expression of countenance almost wild, he exclaimed, “_Heiliger Gott_! +I forgot one thing. Suppose I should not find the treasure after all!” + +“Very rationally said; pity, though, that you did not think of that +contingency till now. I tell you, my friend, that you have engaged in a +most desperate undertaking. It is true that you may find a treasure. +The chances are, however, a hundred to one that you do not, and in that +event what will be your situation? You will be looked upon as an +impostor, and the consequences may be horrible to you. Remember where +you are, and amongst whom you are. The Spaniards are a credulous people, +but let them once suspect that they have been imposed upon, and above all +laughed at, and their thirst for vengeance knows no limit. Think not +that your innocence will avail you. That you are no impostor I feel +convinced; but they would never believe it. It is not too late. Return +your fine clothes and magic rattan to those from whom you had them. Put +on your old garments, grasp your ragged staff, and come with me to the +Sagra, to assist in circulating the illustrious Gospel amongst the +rustics on the Tagus’ bank.” + +Benedict mused for a moment, then, shaking his head, he cried, “No, no, I +must accomplish my destiny. The _Schatz_ is not yet dug up. So said the +voice in the _barranco_. To-morrow to Compostella. I shall find it—the +_Schatz_—it is still there—it _must_ be there.” + +He went, and I never saw him more. What I heard, however, was +extraordinary enough. It appeared that the government had listened to +his tale, and had been so struck with Benedict’s exaggerated description +of the buried treasure, that they imagined that, by a little trouble and +outlay, gold and diamonds might be dug up at Saint James sufficient to +enrich themselves and to pay off the national debt of Spain. The Swiss +returned to Compostella “like a duke,” to use his own words. The affair, +which had at first been kept a profound secret, was speedily divulged. +It was, indeed, resolved that the investigation, which involved +consequences of so much importance, should take place in a manner the +most public and imposing. A solemn festival was drawing nigh, and it was +deemed expedient that the search should take place upon that day. The +day arrived. All the bells in Compostella pealed. The whole populace +thronged from their houses, a thousand troops were drawn up in the +square, the expectation of all was wound up to the highest pitch. A +procession directed its course to the church of San Roque; at its head +was the captain-general and the Swiss, brandishing in his hand the magic +rattan; close behind walked the _meiga_, the Gallegan witch-wife, by whom +the treasure-seeker had been originally guided in the search; numerous +masons brought up the rear, bearing implements to break up the ground. +The procession enters the church, they pass through it in solemn march, +they find themselves in a vaulted passage. The Swiss looks around. “Dig +here,” said he suddenly. “Yes, dig here,” said the _meiga_. The masons +labour, the floor is broken up,—a horrible and fetid odour arises. . . . + +Enough; no treasure was found, and my warning to the unfortunate Swiss +turned out but too prophetic. He was forthwith seized and flung into the +horrid prison of Saint James, amidst the execrations of thousands, who +would have gladly torn him limb from limb. + +The affair did not terminate here. The political opponents of the +government did not allow so favourable an opportunity to escape for +launching the shafts of ridicule. The _moderados_ were taunted in the +cortes for their avarice and credulity, whilst the liberal press wafted +on its wings through Spain the story of the treasure-hunt at Saint James. + +“After all, it was a _trampa_ of _Don Jorge’s_,” said one of my enemies. +“That fellow is at the bottom of half the _picardias_ which happen in +Spain.” + +Eager to learn the fate of the Swiss, I wrote to my old friend Rey +Romero, at Compostella. In his answer he states: “I saw the Swiss in +prison, to which place he sent for me, craving my assistance, for the +sake of the friendship which I bore to you. But how could I help him? +He was speedily after removed from Saint James, I know not whither. It +is said that he disappeared on the road.” + +Truth is sometimes stranger than fiction. Where in the whole cycle of +romance shall we find anything more wild, grotesque, and sad, than the +easily authenticated history of Benedict Mol, the treasure-digger of +Saint James? + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. + + +Villa Seca—Moorish House—The Puchera—The Rustic Council—Polite +Ceremonial—The Flower of Spain—The Bridge of Azeca—The Ruined +Castle—Taking the Field—Demand for the Word—The Old Peasant—The Curate +and Blacksmith—Cheapness of the Scriptures. + +It was one of the most fiercely hot days in which I ever braved the sun, +when I arrived at Villa Seca. The heat in the shade must have amounted +at least to one hundred degrees, and the entire atmosphere seemed to +consist of flickering flame. At a place called Leganez, six leagues from +Madrid, and about half way to Toledo, we diverged from the highway, +bending our course seemingly towards the south-east. We rode over what +are called plains in Spain, but which, in any other part of the world, +would be called undulating and broken ground. The crops of corn and +barley had already disappeared, the last vestiges discoverable being here +and there a few sheaves, which the labourers were occupied in removing to +their garners in the villages. The country could scarcely be called +beautiful, being perfectly naked, exhibiting neither trees nor verdure. +It was not, however, without its pretensions to grandeur and +magnificence, like every part of Spain. The most prominent objects were +two huge calcareous hills, or rather one cleft in twain, which towered up +on high; the summit of the nearest being surmounted by the ruins of an +ancient castle, that of Villaluenga. About an hour past noon we reached +Villa Seca. + +We found it a large village, containing about seven hundred inhabitants, +and surrounded by a mud wall. A _plaza_, or market-place, stood in the +midst, one side of which is occupied by what is called a palace, a clumsy +quadrangular building of two stories, belonging to some noble family, the +lords of the neighbouring soil. It was deserted, however; being only +occupied by a kind of steward, who stored up in its chambers the grain +which he received as rent from the tenants and _villanos_ who farmed the +surrounding district. + +The village stands at the distance of about a quarter of a league from +the bank of the Tagus, which even here, in the heart of Spain, is a +beautiful stream, not navigable, however, on account of the sand-banks, +which in many places assume the appearance of small islands, and are +covered with trees and brushwood. The village derives its supply of +water entirely from the river, having none of its own—such, at least, as +is potable—the water of its wells being all brackish, on which account it +is probably termed Villa Seca, which signifies “the dry hamlet.” The +inhabitants are said to have been originally Moors; certain it is, that +various customs are observable here highly favourable to such a +supposition. Amongst others, a very curious one: it is deemed infamous +for a woman of Villa Seca to go across the market-place, or to be seen +there, though they have no hesitation in showing themselves in the +streets and lanes. A deep-rooted hostility exists between the +inhabitants of this place and those of a neighbouring village, called +Vargas; they rarely speak when they meet, and never intermarry. There is +a vague tradition that the people of the latter place are old Christians, +and it is highly probable that these neighbours were originally of widely +different blood; those of Villa Seca being of particularly dark +complexions, whilst the indwellers of Vargas are light and fair. Thus +the old feud between Moor and Christian is still kept up in the +nineteenth century in Spain. + +Drenched in perspiration, which fell from our brows like rain, we arrived +at the door of Juan Lopez, the husband of Maria Diaz. Having heard of +our intention to pay him a visit, he was expecting us, and cordially +welcomed us to his habitation, which, like a genuine Moorish house, +consisted only of one story. It was amply large, however, with a court +and stable. All the apartments were deliciously cool. The floors were +of brick or stone; and the narrow and trellised windows, which were +without glass, scarcely permitted a ray of sun to penetrate into the +interior. + +A _puchera_ had been prepared in expectation of our arrival; the heat had +not taken away my appetite, and it was not long before I did full justice +to this the standard dish of Spain. Whilst I ate, Lopez played upon the +guitar, singing occasionally snatches of Andalusian songs. He was a +short, merry-faced, active fellow, whom I had frequently seen at Madrid, +and was a good specimen of the Spanish _labrador_, or yeoman. Though far +from possessing the ability and intellect of his wife, Maria Diaz, he was +by no means deficient in shrewdness and understanding. He was, moreover, +honest and disinterested, and performed good service in the Gospel cause, +as will presently appear. + +When the repast was concluded, Lopez thus addressed me:—“_Señor Don +Jorge_, your arrival in our village has already caused a sensation; more +especially as these are times of war and tumult, and every person is +afraid of another, and we dwell here close on the confines of the +factious country: for, as you well know, the greater part of La Mancha is +in the hands of the _Carlinos_ and thieves, parties of whom frequently +show themselves on the other side of the river; on which account the +_alcalde_ of this city, with the other grave and notable people thereof, +are desirous of seeing your worship, and conversing with you, and of +examining your passport.” “It is well,” said I; “let us forthwith pay a +visit to these worthy people.” Whereupon he conducted me across the +_plaza_, to the house of the _alcalde_, where I found the rustic +dignitary seated in the passage, enjoying the refreshing coolness of a +draught of air which rushed through. He was an elderly man, of about +sixty, with nothing remarkable in his appearance or his features, which +latter were placid and good-humoured. There were several people with +him, amongst whom was the surgeon of the place, a tall and immensely +bulky man, an Alavese by birth, from the town of Vitoria. There was also +a red fiery-faced individual, with a nose very much turned on one side, +who was the blacksmith of the village, and was called in general _El +Tuerto_, {188} from the circumstance of his having but one eye. Making +the assembly a low bow, I pulled out my passport, and thus addressed +them:— + +“Grave men and cavaliers of this city of Villa Seca, as I am a stranger, +of whom it is not possible that you should know anything, I have deemed +it my duty to present myself before you, and to tell you who I am. Know, +then, that I am an Englishman of good blood and fathers, travelling in +these countries for my own profit and diversion, and for that of other +people also. I have now found my way to Villa Seca, where I propose to +stay some time, doing that which may be deemed convenient; sometimes +riding across the plain, and sometimes bathing myself in the waters of +the river, which are reported to be of advantage in times of heat. I +therefore beg that, during my sojourn in this capital, I may enjoy such +countenance and protection from its governors as they are in the habit of +affording to those who are of quiet and well-ordered life, and are +disposed to be buxom and obedient to the customs and laws of the +republic.” + +“He speaks well,” said the _alcalde_, glancing around. + +“Yes, he speaks well,” said the bulky Alavese; “there is no denying it.” + +“I never heard any one speak better,” cried the blacksmith, starting up +from a stool on which he was seated. “_Vaya_! he is a big man and a fair +complexioned, like myself. I like him, and have a horse that will just +suit him; one that is the flower of Spain, and is eight inches above the +mark.” + +I then, with another bow, presented my passport to the _alcalde_, who, +with a gentle motion of his hand, appeared to decline taking it, at the +same time saying, “It is not necessary.” “Oh, not at all,” exclaimed the +surgeon. “The housekeepers of Villa Seca know how to comport themselves +with formality,” observed the blacksmith. “They would be very loth to +harbour any suspicion against a cavalier so courteous and well spoken.” +Knowing, however, that this refusal amounted to nothing, and that it +merely formed part of a polite ceremonial, I proffered the passport a +second time, whereupon it was instantly taken, and in a moment the eyes +of all present were bent upon it with intense curiosity. It was examined +from top to bottom, and turned round repeatedly, and though it is not +probable that an individual present understood a word of it, it being +written in French, it gave nevertheless universal satisfaction; and when +the _alcalde_, carefully folding it up, returned it to me, they all +observed that they had never seen a better passport in their lives, or +one which spake in higher terms of the bearer. + +Who was it said that “Cervantes sneered Spain’s chivalry away”? {190} I +know not; and the author of such a line scarcely deserves to be +remembered. How the rage for scribbling tempts people at the present day +to write about lands and nations of which they know nothing, or worse +than nothing! _Vaya_! It is not from having seen a bull-fight at +Seville or Madrid, or having spent a handful of ounces at a _posada_ in +either of those places, kept perhaps by a Genoese or a Frenchman, that +you are competent to write about such a people as the Spaniards, and to +tell the world how they think, how they speak, and how they act. Spain’s +chivalry sneered away! Why, there is every probability that the great +body of the Spanish nation speak, think, and live precisely as their +forefathers did six centuries ago. + +In the evening the blacksmith, or, as he would be called in Spanish, _El +Herrador_, made his appearance at the door of Lopez on horseback. +“_Vamos_, _Don Jorge_,” he shouted. “Come with me, if your worship is +disposed for a ride. I am going to bathe my horse in the Tagus, by the +bridge of Azeca.” I instantly saddled my _jaca Cordovesa_, and joining +him, we rode out of the village, directing our course across the plain +towards the river. “Did you ever see such a horse as this of mine, _Don +Jorge_?” he demanded. “Is he not a jewel—an _alhaja_?” And in truth the +horse was a noble and gallant creature, in height at least sixteen hands, +broad-chested, but of clean and elegant limbs. His neck was superbly +arched, and his head towered on high like that of a swan. In colour he +was a bright chestnut, save his flowing mane and tail, which were almost +black. I expressed my admiration; whereupon the _herrador_, in high +spirits, pressed his heels to the creature’s sides, and flinging the +bridle on its neck, speeded over the plain with prodigious swiftness, +shouting the old Spanish cry, _Cierra_! I attempted to keep up with him, +but had not a chance. “I call him the flower of Spain,” said the +_herrador_, rejoining me. “Purchase him, _Don Jorge_; his price is but +three thousand _reals_. {192} I would not sell him for double that sum, +but the Carlist thieves have their eyes upon him, and I am apprehensive +that they will some day make a dash across the river and break into Villa +Seca, all to get possession of my horse, ‘The Flower of Spain.’” + +It may be as well to observe here, that, within a month from this period, +my friend the _herrador_, not being able to find a regular purchaser for +his steed, entered into negociations with the aforesaid thieves +respecting him, and finally disposed of the animal to their leader, +receiving not the three thousand _reals_ he demanded, but an entire herd +of horned cattle, probably driven from the plains of La Mancha. For this +transaction, which was neither more nor less than high treason, he was +cast into the prison of Toledo, where, however, he did not continue long; +for during a short visit to Villa Seca, which I made in the spring of the +following year, I found him _alcalde_ of that “republic.” + +We arrived at the bridge of Azeca, which is about half a league from +Villa Seca: close beside it is a large water-mill, standing upon a dam +which crosses the river. Dismounting from his steed, the _herrador_ +proceeded to divest it of the saddle, then causing it to enter the +mill-pool, he led it by means of a cord to a particular spot, where the +water reached halfway up its neck, then fastening the cord to a post on +the bank, he left the animal standing in the pool. I thought I could do +no better than follow his example; and, accordingly, procuring a rope +from the mill, I led my own horse into the water. “It will refresh their +blood, _Don Jorge_,”, said the _herrador_; “let us leave them there for +an hour, whilst we go and divert ourselves.” + +Near the bridge, on the side of the river on which we were, was a kind of +guard-house, where were three carbineers of the revenue, who collected +the tolls of the bridge. We entered into conversation with them: “Is not +this a dangerous position of yours,” said I to one of them, who was a +Catalan, “close beside the factious country? Surely it would not be +difficult for a body of the _Carlinos_ or bandits to dash across the +bridge and make prisoners of you all.” + +“It would be easy enough at any moment, cavalier,” replied the Catalan; +“we are, however, all in the hands of God, and he has preserved us +hitherto, and perhaps still will. True it is that one of our number, for +there were four of us originally, fell the other day into the hands of +the _canaille_. He had wandered across the bridge amongst the thickets +with his gun in search of a hare or rabbit, when three or four of them +fell upon him and put him to death in a manner too horrible to relate. +But patience! every man who lives must die. I shall not sleep the worse +to-night because I may chance to be hacked by the knives of these +_malvados_ to-morrow. Cavalier, I am from Barcelona, and have seen there +mariners of your nation; this is not so good a country as Barcelona. +_Paciencia_! Cavalier, if you will step into our house, I will give you +a glass of water; we have some that is cool, for we dug a deep hole in +the earth and buried there our pitcher; it is cool, as I told you, but +the water of Castile is not like that of Catalonia.” + +The moon had arisen when we mounted our horses to return to the village, +and the rays of the beauteous luminary danced merrily on the rushing +waters of the Tagus, silvered the plain over which we were passing, and +bathed in a flood of brightness the bold sides of the calcareous hill of +Villaluenga and the antique ruins which crowned its brow. “Why is that +the Castle of Villaluenga?” I demanded. + +“From a village of that name, which stands on the other side of the hill, +_Don Jorge_,” replied the _herrador_. “_Vaya_! it is a strange place, +that castle: some say it was built by the Moors in the old times, and +some by the Christians when they first laid siege to Toledo. It is not +inhabited now, save by rabbits, which breed there in abundance amongst +the long grass and broken stones, and by eagles and vultures, which build +on the tops of the towers. I occasionally go there with my gun to shoot +a rabbit. On a fine day you may descry both Toledo and Madrid from its +walls. I cannot say I like the place, it is so dreary and melancholy. +The hill on which it stands is all of chalk, and is very difficult of +ascent. I heard my grandame say that once, when she was a girl, a cloud +of smoke burst from that hill, and that flames of fire were seen, just as +if it contained a volcano, as perhaps it does, _Don Jorge_.” + +The grand work of Scripture circulation soon commenced in the Sagra. +Notwithstanding the heat of the weather, I rode about in all directions. +It was well that heat agrees with my constitution, otherwise it would +have been impossible to effect anything in this season, when the very +_arrieros_ frequently fall dead from their mules, smitten by a +sun-stroke. I had an excellent assistant in Antonio, who, disregarding +the heat like myself, and afraid of nothing, visited several villages +with remarkable success. “_Mon maître_,” said he, “I wish to show you +that nothing is beyond my capacity.” But he who put the labours of us +both to shame, was my host, Juan Lopez, whom it had pleased the Lord to +render favourable to the cause. “_Don Jorge_,” said he, “_yo quiero +engancharme con usted_; {195a} I am a liberal, and a foe to superstition; +I will take the field, and, if necessary, will follow you to the end of +the world: _Viva Inglaterra_; _viva el Evangelio_.” Thus saying, he put +a large bundle of Testaments into a satchel, and, springing upon the +crupper of his grey donkey, he cried, “_Arrhé_! _burra_!” {195b} and +hastened away. I sat down to my journal. + +Ere I had finished writing I heard the voice of the _burra_ in the +courtyard, and going out, I found my host returned. He had disposed of +his whole cargo of twenty Testaments at the village of Vargas, distant +from Villa Seca about a league. Eight poor harvest-men, who were +refreshing themselves at the door of a wine-house, purchased each a copy, +whilst the village schoolmaster secured the rest for the little ones +beneath his care, lamenting, at the same time, the great difficulty he +had long experienced in obtaining religious books, owing to their +scarcity and extravagant price. Many other persons were also anxious to +purchase Testaments, but Lopez was unable to supply them: at his +departure they requested him to return within a few days. + +I was aware that I was playing rather a daring game, and that it was very +possible that, when I least expected it, I might be seized, tied to the +tail of a mule, and dragged either to the prison of Toledo or Madrid. +Yet such a prospect did not discourage me in the least, but rather urged +me to persevere; for, at this time, without the slightest wish to magnify +myself, I could say that I was eager to lay down my life for the cause, +and whether a bandit’s bullet or the gaol fever brought my career to a +close, was a matter of indifference to me; I was not then a stricken man: +“Ride on, because of the word of righteousness,” was my cry. + +The news of the arrival of the book of life soon spread like wildfire +through the villages of the Sagra of Toledo, and wherever my people and +myself directed our course we found the inhabitants disposed to receive +our merchandise; it was even called for where not exhibited. One night +as I was bathing myself and horse in the Tagus, a knot of people gathered +on the bank, crying, “Come out of the water, Englishman, and give us +books; we have got our money in our hands.” The poor creatures then held +out their hands, filled with _cuartos_, a copper coin of the value of a +farthing, but unfortunately I had no Testaments to give them. Antonio, +however, who was at a short distance, having exhibited one, it was +instantly torn from his hands by the people, and a scuffle ensued to +obtain possession of it. It very frequently occurred that the poor +labourers in the neighbourhood, being eager to obtain Testaments, and +having no money to offer us in exchange, brought various articles to our +habitation as equivalents; for example, rabbits, fruit, and barley; and I +made a point never to disappoint them, as such articles were of utility +either for our own consumption or that of the horses. + +In Villa Seca there was a school in which fifty-seven children were +taught the first rudiments of education. One morning the schoolmaster, a +tall slim figure of about sixty, bearing on his head one of the peaked +hats of Andalusia, and wrapped, notwithstanding the excessive heat of the +weather, in a long cloak, made his appearance, and having seated himself, +requested to be shown one of our books. Having delivered it to him, he +remained examining it for nearly an hour, without uttering a word. At +last he laid it down with a sigh, and said that he should be very happy +to purchase some of these books for his school, but from their +appearance, especially from the quality of the paper and binding, he was +apprehensive that to pay for them would exceed the means of the parents +of his pupils, as they were almost destitute of money, being poor +labourers. He then commenced blaming the government, which, he said, +established schools without affording the necessary books, adding that in +his school there were but two books for the use of all his pupils, and +these, he confessed, contained but little good. I asked him what he +considered the Testaments were worth? He said, “_Señor_ Cavalier, to +speak frankly, I have in other times paid twelve _reals_ for books +inferior to yours in every respect; but I assure you that my poor pupils +would be utterly unable to pay the half of that sum.” I replied, “I will +sell you as many as you please for three _reals_ each. I am acquainted +with the poverty of the land, and my friends and myself, in affording the +people the means of spiritual instruction, have no wish to curtail their +scanty bread.” He replied, “_Bendito sea Dios_!” {197} and could +scarcely believe his ears. He instantly purchased a dozen, expending, as +he said, all the money he possessed, with the exception of a few +_cuartos_. The introduction of the Word of God into the country schools +of Spain is therefore begun, and I humbly hope that it will prove one of +those events which the Bible Society, after the lapse of years, will have +most reason to remember with joy and gratitude to the Almighty. + +An old peasant is reading in the portico. Eighty-four years have passed +over his head, and he is almost entirely deaf; nevertheless he is reading +aloud the second of Matthew: three days since he bespoke a Testament, but +not being able to raise the money, he has not redeemed it until the +present moment. He has just brought thirty farthings. As I survey the +silvery hair which overshadows his sun-burnt countenance, the words of +the song occurred to me, “Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in +peace, according to thy word: for mine eyes have seen thy salvation.” + +I experienced much grave kindness and simple hospitality from the good +people of Villa Seca during my sojourn amongst them. I had at this time +so won their hearts by the “formality” of my behaviour and language, that +I firmly believe they would have resisted to the knife any attempt which +might have been made to arrest or otherwise maltreat me. He who wishes +to become acquainted with the genuine Spaniard must seek him not in +seaports and large towns, but in lone and remote villages, like those of +the Sagra. There he will find all that gravity of deportment and +chivalry of disposition which Cervantes is said to have sneered away; +{198} and there he will hear, in everyday conversation, those grandiose +expressions, which, when met with in the romances of chivalry, are +scoffed at as ridiculous exaggerations. + +I had one enemy in the village—it was the curate. + +“The fellow is a heretic and a scoundrel,” said he one day in the +conclave. “He never enters the church, and is poisoning the minds of the +people with his Lutheran books. Let him be bound and sent to Toledo, or +turned out of the village at least.” + +“I will have nothing of the kind,” said the _alcalde_, who was said to be +a Carlist. “If he has his opinions, I have mine too. He has conducted +himself with politeness. Why should I interfere with him? He has been +courteous to my daughter, and has presented her with a volume. _Que +viva_! and with respect to his being a Lutheran, I have heard say that +amongst the Lutherans there are sons of as good fathers as here. He +appears to me a _caballero_. He speaks well.” + +“There is no denying it,” said the surgeon. + +“Who speaks _so_ well?” shouted the _herrador_. “And who has more +formality? _Vaya_! did he not praise my horse, ‘The Flower of Spain’? +Did he not say that in the whole of _Inglaterra_ there was not a better? +Did he not assure me, moreover, that if he were to remain in Spain he +would purchase it, giving me my own price? Turn him out, indeed! Is he +not of my own blood, is he not fair-complexioned? Who shall turn him out +when I, ‘the one-eyed,’ say no?” + +In connexion with the circulation of the Scriptures I will now relate an +anecdote not altogether divested of singularity. I have already spoken +of the water-mill by the bridge of Azeca. I had formed acquaintance with +the tenant of this mill, who was known in the neighbourhood by the name +of Don Antero. One day, taking me into a retired place, he asked me, to +my great astonishment, whether I would sell him a thousand Testaments at +the price at which I was disposing of them to the peasantry; saying, if I +would consent he would pay me immediately. In fact, he put his hand into +his pocket, and pulled it out filled with gold ounces. I asked him what +was his reason for wishing to make so considerable a purchase. Whereupon +he informed me that he had a relation in Toledo whom he wished to +establish, and that he was of opinion that his best plan would be to hire +him a shop there and furnish it with Testaments. I told him that he must +think of nothing of the kind, as probably the books would be seized on +the first attempt to introduce them into Toledo, as the priests and +canons were much averse to their distribution. + +He was not disconcerted, however, and said his relation could travel, as +I myself was doing, and dispose of them to the peasants with profit to +himself. I confess I was inclined at first to accept his offer, but at +length declined it, as I did not wish to expose a poor man to the risk of +losing money, goods, and perhaps liberty and life. I was likewise averse +to the books being offered to the peasantry at an advanced price, being +aware that they could not afford it, and the books, by such an attempt, +would lose a considerable part of that influence which they then enjoyed; +for their cheapness struck the minds of the people, and they considered +it almost as much in the light of a miracle as the Jews the manna which +dropped from heaven at the time they were famishing, or the spring which +suddenly gushed from the flinty rock to assuage their thirst in the +wilderness. + +At this time a peasant was continually passing and repassing between +Villa Seca and Madrid, bringing us cargoes of Testaments on a _borrico_. +We continued our labours until the greater part of the villages of the +Sagra were well supplied with books, more especially those of Vargas, +Coveja, Mocejon, Villaluenga, Villa Seca, and Yuncler. {201} Hearing at +last that our proceedings were known at Toledo, and were causing +considerable alarm, we returned to Madrid. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. + + +Aranjuez—A Warning—A Night Adventure—A Fresh +Expedition—Segovia—Abades—Factious Curas—Lopez in Prison—Rescue of Lopez. + +The success which had attended our efforts in the Sagra of Toledo +speedily urged me on to a new enterprise. I now determined to direct my +course to La Mancha, and to distribute the Word amongst the villages of +that province. Lopez, who had already performed such important services +in the Sagra, had accompanied us to Madrid, and was eager to take part in +this new expedition. We determined in the first place to proceed to +Aranjuez, where we hoped to obtain some information which might prove of +utility in the further regulation of our movements; Aranjuez being but a +slight distance from the frontier of La Mancha, and the high-road into +that province passing directly through it. We accordingly sallied forth +from Madrid, selling from twenty to forty Testaments in every village +which lay in our way, until we arrived at Aranjuez, to which place we had +forwarded a large supply of books. + +A lovely spot is Aranjuez, {202} though in desolation: here the Tagus +flows through a delicious valley, perhaps the most fertile in Spain; and +here upsprang, in Spain’s better days, a little city, with a small but +beautiful palace, shaded by enormous trees, where royalty delighted to +forget its cares. Here Ferdinand the Seventh spent his latter days, +surrounded by lovely _señoras_ and Andalusian bull-fighters; but, as the +German Schiller has it in one of his tragedies— + + “The happy days in fair Aranjuez + Are past and gone.” {203} + +When the sensual king went to his dread account, royalty deserted it, and +it soon fell into decay. Intriguing courtiers no longer crowd its halls; +its spacious circus, where Manchegan bulls once roared in rage and agony, +is now closed, and the light tinkling of guitars is no longer heard +amidst its groves and gardens. + +At Aranjuez I made a sojourn of three days, during which time Antonio, +Lopez, and myself visited every house in the town. We found a vast deal +of poverty and ignorance amongst the inhabitants, and experienced some +opposition: nevertheless it pleased the Almighty to permit us to dispose +of about eighty Testaments, which were purchased entirely by the very +poor people; those in easier circumstances paying no attention to the +Word of God, but rather turning it to scoff and ridicule. + +One circumstance was very gratifying and cheering to me, namely, the +ocular proof which I possessed that the books which I disposed of were +read, and with attention, by those to whom I sold them; and that many +others participated in their benefit. In the streets of Aranjuez, and +beneath the mighty cedars and gigantic elms and plantains which compose +its noble woods, I have frequently seen groups assembled listening to +individuals who, with the New Testament in their hands, were reading +aloud the comfortable words of salvation. + +It is probable that, had I remained a longer period at Aranjuez, I might +have sold many more of these Divine books, but I was eager to gain La +Mancha and its sandy plains, and to conceal myself for a season amongst +its solitary villages, for I was apprehensive that a storm was gathering +around me; but when once through Ocaña, the frontier town, I knew well +that I should have nothing to fear from the Spanish authorities, as their +power ceased there, the rest of La Mancha being almost entirely in the +hands of the Carlists, and overrun by small parties of banditti, from +whom, however, I trusted that the Lord would preserve me. I therefore +departed for Ocaña, {204} distant three leagues from Aranjuez. + +I started with Antonio at six in the evening, having early in the morning +sent forward Lopez with between two and three hundred Testaments. We +left the highroad, and proceeded by a shorter way through wild hills and +over very broken and precipitous ground. Being well mounted, we found +ourselves just after sunset opposite Ocaña, which stands on a steep hill. +A deep valley lay between us and the town: we descended, and came to a +small bridge, which traverses a rivulet at the bottom of the valley, at a +very small distance from a kind of suburb. We crossed the bridge, and +were passing by a deserted house on our left hand, when a man appeared +from under the porch. + +What I am about to state will seem incomprehensible, but a singular +history and a singular people are connected with it: the man placed +himself before my horse so as to bar the way, and said, “_Schophon_,” +which, in the Hebrew tongue, signifies a rabbit. {205} I knew this word +to be one of the Jewish countersigns, and asked the man if he had +anything to communicate? He said, “You must not enter the town, for a +net is prepared for you. The _corregidor_ of Toledo, on whom may all +evil light, in order to give pleasure to the priests of Maria, in whose +face I spit, has ordered all the _alcaldes_ of these parts, and the +_escribanos_ and the _corchetes_ to lay hands on you wherever they may +find you, and to send you, and your books, and all that pertains to you +to Toledo. Your servant was seized this morning in the town above, as he +was selling the writings in the streets, and they are now awaiting your +arrival in the _posada_; but I knew you from the accounts of my brethren, +and I have been waiting here four hours to give you warning in order that +your horse may turn his tail to your enemies, and neigh in derision of +them. Fear nothing for your servant, for he is known to the _alcalde_, +and will be set at liberty; but do you flee, and may God attend you.” +Having said this, he hurried towards the town. + +I hesitated not a moment to take his advice, knowing full well that, as +my books had been taken possession of, I could do no more in that +quarter. We turned back in the direction of Aranjuez, the horses, +notwithstanding the nature of the ground, galloping at full speed; but +our adventures were not over. Midway, and about half a league from the +village of Antigola, we saw close to us on our left hand three men on a +low bank. As far as the darkness would permit us to distinguish, they +were naked, but each bore in his hand a long gun. These were _rateros_, +or the common assassins and robbers of the roads. We halted and cried +out, “Who goes there?” They replied, “What’s that to you? pass by.” +Their drift was to fire at us from a position from which it would be +impossible to miss. We shouted, “If you do not instantly pass to the +right side of the road we will tread you down beneath the horses’ hoofs.” +They hesitated and then obeyed, for all assassins are dastards, and the +least show of resolution daunts them. As we galloped past, one cried, +with an obscene oath, “Shall we fire?” But another said, “No, no! +there’s danger.” We reached Aranjuez, where early next morning Lopez +rejoined us, and we returned to Madrid. + +I am sorry to state that two hundred Testaments were seized at Ocaña, +from whence, after being sealed up, they were despatched to Toledo. +Lopez informed me, that in two hours he could have sold them all, the +demand was so great. As it was, twenty-seven were disposed of in less +than ten minutes. + +“Ride on, because of the word of righteousness.” Notwithstanding the +check which we had experienced at Ocaña, we were far from being +discouraged, and forthwith prepared ourselves for another expedition. As +we returned from Aranjuez to Madrid, my eyes had frequently glanced +towards the mighty wall of mountains dividing the two Castiles, and I +said to myself, “Would it not be well to cross those hills, and commence +operations on the other side, even in Old Castile? There I am unknown, +and intelligence of my proceedings can scarcely have been transmitted +thither. Peradventure the enemy is asleep, and before he has roused +himself, I may have sown much of the precious seed amongst the villages +of the Old Castilians. To Castile, therefore, to _Castilla la Vieja_!” +Accordingly, on the day after my arrival, I despatched several cargoes of +books to various places which I proposed to visit, and sent forward Lopez +and his donkey, well laden, with directions to meet me on a particular +day beneath a particular arch of the aqueduct of Segovia. I likewise +gave him orders to engage any persons willing to co-operate with us in +the circulation of the Scriptures, and who might be likely to prove of +utility in the enterprise. A more useful assistant than Lopez in an +expedition of this kind it was impossible to have. He was not only well +acquainted with the country, but had friends, and even connexions on the +other side of the hills, in whose houses he assured me that we should at +all times find a hearty welcome. He departed in high spirits, +exclaiming, “Be of good cheer, _Don Jorge_; before we return we will have +disposed of every copy of your evangelic library. Down with the friars! +Down with superstition! _Viva Inglaterra_, _viva el Evangelio_!” + +In a few days I followed with Antonio. We ascended the mountains by the +pass called Peña Cerrada, which lies about three leagues to the eastward +of that of Guadarrama. It is very unfrequented, the high road between +the two Castiles passing through Guadarrama. It has, moreover, an evil +name, being, according to common report, infested with banditti. The sun +was just setting when we reached the top of the hills, and entered a +thick and gloomy pine forest, which entirely covers the mountains on the +side of Old Castile. The descent soon became so rapid and precipitous, +that we were fain to dismount from our horses and to drive them before +us. Into the woods we plunged deeper and deeper still; night-birds soon +began to hoot and cry, and millions of crickets commenced their shrill +chirping above, below, and around us. Occasionally, amidst the trees at +a distance, we could see blazes, as if from immense fires. “They are +those of the charcoal-burners, _mon maître_,” said Antonio; “we will not +go near them, however, for they are savage people, and half bandits. +Many is the traveller whom they have robbed and murdered in these horrid +wildernesses.” + +It was blackest night when we arrived at the foot of the mountains; we +were still, however, amidst woods and pine forests, which extended for +leagues in every direction. “We shall scarcely reach Segovia to-night, +_mon maître_,” said Antonio. And so indeed it proved, for we became +bewildered, and at last arrived where two roads branched off in different +directions: we took not the left-hand road, which would have conducted us +to Segovia, but turned to the right, in the direction of La Granja, where +we arrived at midnight. + +We found the desolation of La Granja {208} far greater than that of +Aranjuez; both had suffered from the absence of royalty, but the former +to a degree which was truly appalling. Nine-tenths of the inhabitants +had left this place, which, until the late military revolution, had been +the favourite residence of Christina. So great is the solitude of La +Granja, that wild boars from the neighbouring forests, and especially +from the beautiful pine-covered mountain which rises like a cone directly +behind the palace, frequently find their way into the streets and +squares, and whet their tusks against the pillars of the porticos. + +“Ride on, because of the word of righteousness.” After a stay of +twenty-four hours at La Granja, we proceeded to Segovia. The day had +arrived on which I had appointed to meet Lopez. I repaired to the +aqueduct, and sat down beneath the hundred and seventh arch, where I +waited the greater part of the day, but he came not, whereupon I arose +and went into the city. + +At Segovia I tarried two days in the house of a friend; still I could +hear nothing of Lopez. At last, by the greatest chance in the world, I +heard from a peasant that there were men in the neighbourhood of Abades +selling books. + +Abades is about three leagues distant from Segovia, and upon receiving +this intelligence, I instantly departed for the former place, with three +donkeys laden with Testaments. I reached Abades at nightfall, and found +Lopez, with two peasants whom he had engaged, in the house of the surgeon +of the place, where I also took up my residence. He had already disposed +of a considerable number of Testaments in the neighbourhood, and had that +day commenced selling at Abades itself. He had, however, been +interrupted by two of the three _curas_ of the village, who, with horrid +curses, denounced the work, threatening eternal condemnation to Lopez for +selling it, and to any person who should purchase it; whereupon Lopez, +terrified, forbore until I should arrive. The third _cura_, however, +exerted himself to the utmost to persuade the people to provide +themselves with Testaments, telling them that his brethren were +hypocrites and false guides, who, by keeping them in ignorance of the +word and will of Christ, were leading them to the abyss. Upon receiving +this information, I instantly sallied forth to the market-place, and that +same night succeeded in disposing of upwards of thirty Testaments. The +next morning the house was entered by the two factious _curas_; but upon +my rising to confront them, they retreated, and I heard no more of them, +except that they publicly cursed me in the church more than once, an +event which, as no ill resulted from it, gave me little concern. + +I will not detail the events of the next week; suffice it to say that, +arranging my forces in the most advantageous way, I succeeded, by God’s +assistance, in disposing of from five to six hundred Testaments amongst +the villages from one to seven leagues’ distance from Abades. At the +expiration of that period I received information that my proceedings were +known in Segovia, in which province Abades is situated, and that an order +was about to be sent to the _alcalde_ to seize all books in my +possession. Whereupon, notwithstanding that it was late in the evening, +I decamped with all my people, and upwards of three hundred Testaments, +having a few hours previously received a fresh supply from Madrid. That +night we passed in the fields, and next morning proceeded to Labajos, a +village on the high-road from Madrid to Valladolid. In this place we +offered no books for sale, but contented ourselves with supplying the +neighbouring villages with the Word of God; we likewise sold it in the +highways. + + [Picture: Segovia] + +We had not been at Labajos a week, during which time we were remarkably +successful, when the Carlist chieftain, Balmaseda, {211a} at the head of +his cavalry, made his desperate inroad into the southern part of Old +Castile, dashing down like an avalanche from the pine-woods of Soria. I +was present at all the horrors which ensued,—the sack of Arrevalo, and +the forcible entry into Martin Muñoz. Amidst these terrible scenes we +continued our labours. Suddenly I lost Lopez for three days, and +suffered dreadful anxiety on his account, imagining that he had been shot +by the Carlists; at last I heard that he was in prison at Villallos, +three leagues distant. The steps which I took to rescue him will be +found detailed in a communication, which I deemed it my duty to transmit +to Lord William Hervey, who, in the absence of Sir George Villiers, +{211b} now become Earl of Clarendon, fulfilled the duties of minister at +Madrid:— + + “Labajos, Province of Segovia, + “August 23rd, 1838. + + “MY LORD, + + “I beg leave to call your attention to the following facts. On the + 21st inst. I received information that a person in my employ, of the + name of Juan Lopez, had been thrown into the prison of Villallos, in + the province of Avila, by order of the _cura_ of that place. The + crime with which he was charged was selling the New Testament. I was + at that time at Labajos, in the province of Segovia, and the division + of the factious chieftain Balmaseda was in the immediate + neighbourhood. On the 22nd, I mounted my horse and rode to + Villallos, a distance of three leagues. On my arrival there, I found + that Lopez had been removed from the prison to a private house. An + order had arrived from the _corregidor_ of Avila, commanding that the + person of Lopez should be set at liberty, and that the books which + had been found in his possession should be alone detained. + Nevertheless, in direct opposition to this order (a copy of which I + herewith transmit), the _alcalde_ of Villallos, at the instigation of + the _cura_, refused to permit the said Lopez to quit the place, + either to proceed to Avila or in any other direction. It had been + hinted to Lopez that as the factious were expected, it was intended + on their arrival to denounce him to them as a liberal, and to cause + him to be sacrificed. Taking these circumstances into consideration, + I deemed it my duty, as a Christian and a gentleman, to rescue my + unfortunate servant from such lawless hands, and in consequence, + defying opposition, I bore him off, though entirely unarmed, through + a crowd of at least one hundred peasants. On leaving the place I + shouted, ‘_Viva Isabel Segunda_.’ + + “As it is my belief that the _cura_ of Villallos is a person capable + of any infamy, I beg leave humbly to intreat your Lordship to cause a + copy of the above narration to be forwarded to the Spanish + Government. + + “I have the honour to remain, + + “My Lord, + “Your Lordship’s most obedient, + “GEORGE BORROW. + + “To the Right Honourable + “LORD WILLIAM HERVEY.” + +After the rescue of Lopez we proceeded in the work of distribution. +Suddenly, however, the symptoms of an approaching illness came over me, +which compelled us to return in all haste to Madrid. Arrived there, I +was attacked by a fever which confined me to my bed for several weeks; +occasional fits of delirium came over me, during one of which I imagined +myself in the market-place of Martin Muñoz, engaged in deadly struggle +with the chieftain Balmaseda. + +The fever had scarcely departed, when a profound melancholy took +possession of me, which entirely disqualified me for active exertion. +Change of scene and air was recommended; I therefore returned to England. +{213} + + + + +CHAPTER XLV. + + +Return to Spain—Seville—A Hoary Persecutor—Manchegan Prophetess—Antonio’s +Dream. + +On December 31, 1838, I again visited Spain for the third time. After +staying a day or two at Cadiz, I repaired to Seville, from which place I +proposed starting for Madrid with the mail post. Here I tarried about a +fortnight, enjoying the delicious climate of this terrestrial paradise, +and the balmy breezes of the Andalusian winter, even as I had done two +years previously. Before leaving Seville I visited the bookseller, my +correspondent, who informed me that seventy-six copies of the hundred +Testaments entrusted to his care had been placed in embargo by the +government last summer, and that they were at the present time in +possession of the ecclesiastical governor; whereupon I determined to +visit this functionary also, with the view of making inquiries concerning +the property. + +He lived in a large house in the _Pajaria_, or straw-market. He was a +very old man, between seventy and eighty, and, like the generality of +those who wear the sacerdotal habit in this city, was a fierce +persecuting Papist. I imagine that he scarcely believed his ears when +his two grand-nephews, beautiful black-haired boys who were playing in +the courtyard, ran to inform him that an Englishman was waiting to speak +with him, as it is probable that I was the first heretic who ever +ventured into his habitation. I found him in a vaulted room, seated on a +lofty chair, with two sinister-looking secretaries, also in sacerdotal +habits, employed in writing at a table before him. He brought powerfully +to my mind the grim old inquisitor who persuaded Philip the Second to +slay his own son {215} as an enemy to the Church. + +He rose as I entered, and gazed upon me with a countenance dark with +suspicion and dissatisfaction. He at last condescended to point me to a +sofa, and I proceeded to state to him my business. He became much +agitated when I mentioned the Testaments to him; but I no sooner spoke of +the Bible Society and told him who I was, than he could contain himself +no longer: with a stammering tongue, and with eyes flashing fire like hot +coals, he proceeded to rail against the society and myself, saying that +the aims of the first were atrocious, and that, as to myself, he was +surprised that, being once lodged in the prison of Madrid, I had ever +been permitted to quit it; adding, that it was disgraceful in the +government to allow a person of my character to roam about an innocent +and peaceful country, corrupting the minds of the ignorant and +unsuspicious. Far from allowing myself to be disconcerted by his rude +behaviour, I replied to him with all possible politeness, and assured him +that in this instance he had no reason to alarm himself, as my sole +motive in claiming the books in question was to avail myself of an +opportunity which at present presented itself, of sending them out of the +country, which, indeed, I had been commanded to do by an official notice. +But nothing would soothe him, and he informed me that he should not +deliver up the books on any condition, save by a positive order of the +government. As the matter was by no means an affair of consequence, I +thought it wise not to persist, and also prudent to take my leave before +he requested me. I was followed even down into the street by his niece +and grand-nephews, who, during the whole of the conversation, had +listened at the door of the apartment and heard every word. + +In passing through La Mancha, we stayed for four hours at Manzanares, a +large village. I was standing in the market-place conversing with a +curate, when a frightful ragged object presented itself; it was a girl +about eighteen or nineteen, perfectly blind, a white film being spread +over her huge staring eyes. Her countenance was as yellow as that of a +Mulatto. I thought at first that she was a gypsy, and addressing myself +to her, inquired in _Gitano_ if she were of that race. She understood +me, but shaking her head, replied, that she was something better than a +_Gitana_, and could speak something better than that jargon of witches: +whereupon she commenced asking me several questions in exceedingly good +Latin. I was of course very much surprised, but, summoning all my +Latinity, I called her Manchegan Prophetess, and, expressing my +admiration for her learning, begged to be informed by what means she +became possessed of it. I must here observe that a crowd instantly +gathered around us, who, though they understood not one word of our +discourse, at every sentence of the girl shouted applause, proud in the +possession of a prophetess who could answer the Englishman. + +She informed me that she was born blind, and that a Jesuit priest had +taken compassion on her when she was a child, and had taught her the holy +language, in order that the attention and hearts of Christians might be +more easily turned towards her. I soon discovered that he had taught her +something more than Latin, for upon telling her that I was an Englishman, +she said that she had always loved Britain, which was once the nursery of +saints and sages; for example, Bede and Alcuin, Columbus and Thomas of +Canterbury; but, she added, those times had gone by since the +reappearance of Semiramis (Elizabeth). Her Latin was truly excellent, +and when I, like a genuine Goth, spoke of Anglia and Terra Vandalica +(Andalusia), {217} she corrected me by saying, that in her language those +places were called Britannia and Terra Betica. When we had finished our +discourse, a gathering was made for the prophetess, the very poorest +contributing something. + +After travelling four days and nights, we arrived at Madrid without +having experienced the slightest accident, though it is but just to +observe, and always with gratitude to the Almighty, that the next mail +was stopped. A singular incident befell me immediately after my arrival. +On entering the arch of the _posada_ called La Reyna, where I intended to +put up, I found myself encircled in a person’s arms, and on turning round +in amazement, beheld my Greek servant, Antonio. He was haggard and +ill-dressed, and his eyes seemed starting from their sockets. + +As soon as we were alone he informed me that since my departure he had +undergone great misery and destitution, having, during the whole period, +been unable to find a master in need of his services, so that he was +brought nearly to the verge of desperation; but that on the night +immediately preceding my arrival he had a dream, in which he saw me, +mounted on a black horse, ride up to the gate of the _posada_, and that +on that account he had been waiting there during the greater part of the +day. I do not pretend to offer an opinion concerning this narrative, +which is beyond the reach of my philosophy, and shall content myself with +observing, that only two individuals in Madrid were aware of my arrival +in Spain. I was very glad to receive him again into my service, as, +notwithstanding his faults, he had in many instances proved of no slight +assistance to me in my wanderings and Biblical labours. + +I was soon settled in my former lodgings, when one of my first cares was +to pay a visit to Lord Clarendon. {218} Amongst other things, he +informed me that he had received an official notice from the government, +stating the seizure of the New Testaments at Ocaña, the circumstances +relating to which I have described on a former occasion, and informing +him that unless steps were instantly taken to remove them from the +country, they would be destroyed at Toledo, to which place they had been +conveyed. I replied that I should give myself no trouble about the +matter; and that if the authorities of Toledo, civil or ecclesiastic, +determined upon burning these books, my only hope was that they would +commit them to the flames with all possible publicity, as by so doing +they would but manifest their own hellish rancour and their hostility to +the Word of God. + +Being eager to resume my labours, I had no sooner arrived at Madrid than +I wrote to Lopez at Villa Seca, for the purpose of learning whether he +was inclined to co-operate in the work, as on former occasions. In reply +he informed me that he was busily employed in his agricultural pursuits: +to supply his place, however, he sent over an elderly villager, +Victoriano Lopez by name, a distant relation of his own. + +What is a missionary in the heart of Spain without a horse? Which +consideration induced me now to purchase an Arabian of high caste, which +had been brought from Algiers by an officer of the French legion. The +name of this steed, the best, I believe, that ever issued from the +desert, was Sidi Habismilk. {219} + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI. + + +Work of Distribution resumed—Adventure at Cobeña—Power of the +Clergy—Rural Authorities—Fuente la Higuera—Victoriano’s Mishap—Village +Prison—The Rope—Antonio’s Errand—Antonio at Mass. + +In my last chapter I stated that, immediately after my arrival at Madrid, +I proceeded to get everything in readiness for commencing operations in +the neighbourhood: and I soon entered upon my labours in reality. +Considerable success attended my feeble efforts in the good cause, for +which at present, after the lapse of some years, I still look back with +gratitude to the Almighty. + +All the villages within the distance of four leagues to the east of +Madrid were visited in less than a fortnight, and Testaments to the +number of nearly two hundred disposed of. These villages for the most +part are very small, some of them consisting of not more than a dozen +houses, or I should rather say miserable cabins. I left Antonio, my +Greek, to superintend matters in Madrid, and proceeded with Victoriano, +the peasant, from Villa Seca, in the direction which I have already +mentioned. We, however, soon parted company and pursued different +routes. + +The first village at which I made an attempt was Cobeña, about three +leagues from Madrid. I was dressed in the fashion of the peasants in the +neighbourhood of Segovia, in Old Castile, namely, I had on my head a +species of leather helmet or _montera_, with a jacket and trousers of the +same material. I had the appearance of a person between sixty and +seventy years of age, and drove before me a _borrico_ with a sack of +Testaments lying across its back. On nearing the village, I met a +genteel-looking young woman leading a little boy by the hand. As I was +about to pass her, with the customary salutation of _vaya usted con +Dios_, she stopped, and, after looking at me for a moment, she said, +“Uncle, {221a} what is that you have got on your _borrico_? Is it soap?” + +“Yes,” I replied; “it is soap to wash souls clean.” + +She demanded what I meant; whereupon I told her that I carried cheap and +godly books for sale. On her requesting to see one, I produced a copy +from my pocket and handed it to her. She instantly commenced reading +with a loud voice, and continued so for at least ten minutes, +occasionally exclaiming, “_Que lectura tan bonita_, _que lectura tan +linda_!” {221b} At last, on my informing her that I was in a hurry, and +could not wait any longer, she said, “True, true,” and asked me the price +of the book; I told her “But three _reals_,” whereupon she said, that +though what I asked was very little, it was more than she could afford to +give, as there was little or no money in those parts. I said I was sorry +for it, but that I could not dispose of the books for less than I had +demanded, and accordingly, resuming it, wished her farewell, and left +her. I had not, however, proceeded thirty yards, when the boy came +running behind me, shouting, out of breath, “Stop, uncle, the book, the +book!” Upon overtaking me, he delivered the three _reals_ in copper, and +seizing the Testament, ran back to her, who I suppose was his sister, +flourishing the book over his head with great glee. + +On arriving at the village, I directed my steps to a house, around the +door of which I saw several people gathered, chiefly women. On my +displaying my books, their curiosity was instantly aroused, and every +person had speedily one in his hand, many reading aloud; however, after +waiting nearly an hour, I had disposed of but one copy, all complaining +bitterly of the distress of the times, and the almost total want of +money, though, at the same time, they acknowledged that the books were +wonderfully cheap, and appeared to be very good and Christian-like. I +was about to gather up my merchandise and depart, when on a sudden the +curate of the place made his appearance. After having examined the books +for some time with considerable attention, he asked me the price of a +copy, and upon my informing him that it was three _reals_, he replied +that the binding was worth more, and that he was much afraid that I had +stolen the books, and that it was perhaps his duty to send me to prison +as a suspicious character; but added, that the books were good books, +however they might be obtained, and concluded by purchasing two copies. +The poor people no sooner heard their curate recommend the volumes, than +all were eager to secure one, and hurried here and there for the purpose +of procuring money, so that between twenty and thirty copies were sold +almost in an instant. This adventure not only affords an instance of the +power still possessed by the Spanish clergy over the minds of the people, +but proves that such influence is not always exerted in a manner +favourable to the maintenance of ignorance and superstition. + +In another village, on my showing a Testament to a woman, she said that +she had a child at school for whom she should like to purchase one, but +that she must first know whether the book was calculated to be of service +to him. She then went away, and presently returned with the +schoolmaster, followed by all the children under his care; she then, +showing the schoolmaster a book, inquired if it would answer for her son. +The schoolmaster called her a simpleton for asking such a question, and +said that he knew the book well, and there was not its equal in the +world. {223} He instantly purchased five copies for his pupils, +regretting that he had no more money, “for if I had,” said he, “I would +buy the whole cargo.” Upon hearing this, the woman purchased four +copies, namely, one for her living son, another for her _deceased +husband_, a third for herself, and a fourth for her brother, whom she +said she was expecting home that night from Madrid. + +In this manner we proceeded; not, however, with uniform success. In some +villages the people were so poor and needy that they had literally no +money; even in these, however, we managed to dispose of a few copies in +exchange for barley or refreshments. On entering one very small hamlet, +Victoriano was stopped by the curate, who, on learning what he carried, +told him, that unless he instantly departed, he would cause him to be +imprisoned, and would write to Madrid in order to give information of +what was going on. The excursion lasted about eight days. Immediately +after my return, I despatched Victoriano to Caramanchel, {224a} a village +at a short distance from Madrid, the only one towards the west which had +not been visited last year. He stayed there about an hour, and disposed +of twelve copies, and then returned, as he was exceedingly timid, and was +afraid of being met by the thieves who swarm on that road in the evening. + +Shortly after these events, a circumstance occurred which will, perhaps, +cause the English reader to smile, whilst, at the same time, it will not +fail to prove interesting, as affording an example of the feeling +prevalent in some of the lone villages of Spain with respect to +innovation and all that savours thereof, and the strange acts which are +sometimes committed by the rural authorities and the priests, without the +slightest fear of being called to account; for as they live quite apart +from the rest of the world, they know no people greater than themselves, +and scarcely dream of a higher power than their own. {224b} + +I was about to make an excursion to Guadalajara, and the villages of +Alcarria, about seven leagues distant from Madrid; indeed, I merely +awaited the return of Victoriano to sally forth; I having despatched him +in that direction with a few Testaments, as a kind of explorer, in order +that, from his report as to the disposition manifested by the people for +purchasing, I might form a tolerably accurate opinion as to the number of +copies which it might be necessary to carry with me. However, I heard +nothing of him for a fortnight, at the end of which period a letter was +brought to me by a peasant, dated from the prison of Fuente la Higuera, a +village eight leagues from Madrid, in the _campiña_ of Alcalá: {225} this +letter, written by Victoriano, gave me to understand that he had been +already eight days imprisoned, and that unless I could find some means to +extricate him, there was every probability of his remaining in durance +until he should perish with hunger, which he had no doubt would occur as +soon as his money was exhausted. From what I afterwards learned, it +appeared that, after passing the town of Alcalá, he had commenced +distributing, and with considerable success. His entire stock consisted +of sixty-one Testaments, twenty-five of which he sold without the +slightest difficulty or interruption in the single village of Arganza; +the poor labourers showering blessings on his head for providing them +with such good books at an easy price. + +Not more than eighteen of his books remained, when he turned off the +high-road towards Fuente la Higuera. This place was already tolerably +well known to him, he having visited it of old, when he travelled the +country in the capacity of a vender of _cacharras_, or earthen pans. He +subsequently stated that he felt some misgiving whilst on the way, as the +village had invariably borne a bad reputation. On his arrival, after +having put up his _caballejo_, or little pony, at a _posada_, he +proceeded to the _alcalde_ for the purpose of asking permission to sell +the books, which that dignitary immediately granted. He now entered a +house and sold a copy, and likewise a second. Emboldened by success, he +entered a third, which, it appeared, belonged to the barber-surgeon of +the village. This personage, having just completed his dinner, was +seated in an armchair within his doorway, when Victoriano made his +appearance. He was a man about thirty-five, of a savage truculent +countenance. On Victoriano’s offering him a Testament, he took it in his +hand to examine it; but no sooner did his eyes glance over the title-page +than he burst out into a loud laugh, exclaiming, “_Ha_, _ha_, _Don Jorge +Borrow_, the English heretic, we have encountered you at last. Glory to +the Virgin and the Saints! We have long been expecting you here, and at +length you are arrived.” He then inquired the price of the book, and on +being told three _reals_, he flung down two, and rushed out of the house +with the Testament in his hand. + +Victoriano now became alarmed, and determined upon leaving the place as +soon as possible. He therefore hurried back to the _posada_, and having +paid for the barley which his pony had consumed, went into the stable, +and placing the packsaddle on the animal’s back, was about to lead it +forth, when the _alcalde_ of the village, the surgeon, and twelve other +men, some of whom were armed with muskets, suddenly presented themselves. +They instantly made Victoriano prisoner; and, after seizing the books and +laying an embargo on the pony, proceeded, amidst much abuse, to drag the +captive to what they denominated their prison, a low damp apartment with +a little grated window, where they locked him up and left him. At the +expiration of three-quarters of an hour they again appeared, and +conducted him to the house of the curate, where they sat down in +conclave; the curate, who was a man stone blind, presiding, whilst the +sacristan officiated as secretary. The surgeon having stated his +accusation against the prisoner—namely, that he had detected him in the +act of selling a version of the Scriptures in the vulgar tongue—the +curate proceeded to examine Victoriano, asking him his name and place of +residence; to which he replied that his name was Victoriano Lopez, and +that he was a native of Villa Seca, in the Sagra of Toledo. The curate +then demanded what religion he professed? and whether he was a Mahometan +or freemason? and received for answer that he was a Roman Catholic. I +must here state that Victoriano, though sufficiently shrewd in his way, +was a poor old labourer of sixty-four; and until that moment had never +heard either of Mahometans or freemasons. The curate becoming now +incensed, called him a _tunante_, or scoundrel, and added, “You have sold +your soul to a heretic; we have long been aware of your proceedings, and +those of your master. You are the same Lopez whom he last year rescued +from the prison of Villallos, in the province of Avila; I sincerely hope +that he will attempt to do the same thing here.” “Yes, yes,” shouted the +rest of the conclave, “let him but venture here, and we will shed his +heart’s blood on our stones.” In this manner they went on for nearly +half an hour. At last they broke up the meeting, and conducted +Victoriano once more to his prison. + +During his confinement he lived tolerably well, being in possession of +money. His meals were sent him twice a day from the _posada_, where his +pony remained in embargo. Once or twice he asked permission of the +_alcalde_, who visited him every night and morning with his armed guard, +to purchase pen and paper, in order that he might write to Madrid; but +this favour was peremptorily refused him, and all the inhabitants of the +village were forbidden under terrible penalties to afford him the means +of writing, or to convey any message from him beyond the precincts of the +place, and two boys were stationed before the window of his cell for the +purpose of watching everything which might be conveyed to him. + +It happened one day that Victoriano, being in need of a pillow, sent word +to the people of the _posada_ to send him his _alforjas_, or saddle-bags, +which they did. In these bags there chanced to be a kind of rope, or, as +it is called in Spanish, _soga_, with which he was in the habit of +fastening his satchel to the pony’s back. The urchins seeing an end of +this rope, hanging from the _alforjas_, instantly ran to the _alcalde_ to +give him information. Late at evening, the _alcalde_ again visited the +prisoner at the head of his twelve men as usual. “_Buenos noches_,” +{228a} said the _alcalde_. “_Buenas noches tenga usted_,” {228b} replied +Victoriano. “For what purpose did you send for the _soga_ this +afternoon?” demanded the functionary. “I sent for no _soga_,” said the +prisoner; “I sent for my _alforjas_ to serve as a pillow, and it was sent +in them by chance.” “You are a false, malicious knave,” retorted the +_alcalde_; “you intend to hang yourself, and by so doing ruin us all, as +your death would be laid at our door. Give me the _soga_.” No greater +insult can be offered to a Spaniard than to tax him with an intention of +committing suicide. Poor Victoriano flew into a violent rage; and, after +calling the _alcalde_ several very uncivil names, he pulled the _soga_ +from his bags, flung it at his head, and told him to take it home and use +it for his own neck. + +At length the people of the _posada_ took pity on the prisoner, +perceiving that he was very harshly treated for no crime at all; they +therefore determined to afford him an opportunity of informing his +friends of his situation, and accordingly sent him a pen and inkhorn, +concealed in a loaf of bread, and a piece of writing-paper, pretending +that the latter was intended for cigars. So Victoriano wrote the letter: +but now ensued the difficulty of sending it to its destination, as no +person in the village dare have carried it for any reward. The good +people, however, persuaded a disbanded soldier from another village, who +chanced to be at Fuente la Higuera in quest of work, to charge himself +with it, assuring him that I would pay him well for his trouble. The +man, watching his opportunity, received the letter from Victoriano at the +window: and it was he who, after travelling on foot all night, delivered +it to me in safety at Madrid. + +I was now relieved from my anxiety, and had no fears for the result. I +instantly went to a friend who is in possession of large estates about +Guadalajara, in which province Fuenta la Higuera is situated, who +furnished me with letters to the civil governor of Guadalajara and all +the principal authorities; these I delivered to Antonio, whom, at his own +request, I despatched on the errand of the prisoner’s liberation. He +first directed his course to Fuente la Higuera, where, entering the +_alcalde’s_ house, he boldly told him what he had come about. The +_alcalde_, expecting that I was at hand, with an army of Englishmen, for +the purpose of rescuing the prisoner, became greatly alarmed, and +instantly despatched his wife to summon his twelve men: however, on +Antonio’s assuring him that there was no intention of having recourse to +violence, he became more tranquil. In a short time Antonio was summoned +before the conclave and its blind sacerdotal president. They at first +attempted to frighten him by assuming a loud bullying tone, and talking +of the necessity of killing all strangers, and especially the detested +_Don Jorge_ and his dependents. Antonio, however, who was not a person +apt to allow himself to be easily terrified, scoffed at their threats, +and, showing them his letters to the authorities of Guadalajara, said +that he should proceed there on the morrow and denounce their lawless +conduct; adding that he was a Turkish subject, and that should they dare +to offer him the slightest incivility, he would write to the Sublime +Porte, in comparison with whom the best kings in the world were but +worms, and who would not fail to avenge the wrongs of any of his +children, however distant, in a manner too terrible to be mentioned. He +then returned to his _posada_. The conclave now proceeded to deliberate +amongst themselves, and at last determined to send their prisoner on the +morrow to Guadalajara, and deliver him into the hands of the civil +governor. + +Nevertheless, in order to keep up a semblance of authority, they that +night placed two men armed at the door of the _posada_ where Antonio was +lodged, as if he himself was a prisoner. These men, as often as the +clock struck the hour, shouted, “_Ave Maria_! Death to the heretics!” +Early in the morning the _alcalde_ presented himself at the _posada_; but +before entering he made an oration at the door to the people in the +street, saying, amongst other things, “Brethren, these are the fellows +who have come to rob us of our religion.” He then went in to Antonio’s +apartment, and after saluting him with great politeness, said, that as a +royal or high Mass was about to be celebrated that morning, he had come +to invite him to go to church with him. Whereupon Antonio, though by no +means a Mass-goer, rose and accompanied him, and remained two hours, as +he told me, on his knees on the cold stones, to his great discomfort; the +eyes of the whole congregation being fixed upon him during the time. + +After Mass and breakfast, he departed for Guadalajara, Victoriano having +been already despatched under a guard. On his arrival, he presented his +letters to the individuals for whom they were intended. The civil +governor was convulsed with merriment on hearing Antonio’s account of the +adventure. Victoriano was set at liberty, and the books were placed in +embargo at Guadalajara; the governor stating, however, that though it was +his duty to detain them at present, they should be sent to me whenever I +chose to claim them: he, moreover, said that he would do his best to +cause the authorities of Fuente la Higuera to be severely punished, as in +the whole affair they had acted in the most cruel, tyrannical manner, for +which they had no authority. Thus terminated this affair: one of those +little accidents which chequer missionary life in Spain. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII. + + +Termination of our Rural Labours—Alarm of the Clergy—A New +Experiment—Success at Madrid—Goblin-Alguazil—Staff of Office—The +Corregidor—An Explanation—The Pope in England—New Testament +expounded—Works of Luther. + +We proceeded in our task of distributing the Scriptures with various +success, until the middle of March, when I determined upon starting for +Talavera, for the purpose of seeing what it was possible to accomplish in +that town and the neighbourhood. I accordingly bent my course in that +direction, accompanied by Antonio and Victoriano. On our way thither we +stopped at Naval Carnero, a large village five leagues to the west of +Madrid, where I remained three days, sending forth Victoriano to the +circumjacent hamlets with small cargoes of Testaments. Providence, +however, which had hitherto so remarkably favoured us in these rural +excursions, now withdrew from us its support, and brought them to a +sudden termination: for in whatever place the sacred writings were +offered for sale, they were forthwith seized by persons who appeared to +be upon the watch; which events compelled me to alter my intention of +proceeding to Talavera, and to return forthwith to Madrid. + +I subsequently learned that our proceedings on the other side of Madrid +having caused alarm amongst the heads of the clergy, they had made a +formal complaint to the government, who immediately sent orders to all +the _alcaldes_ of the villages, great and small, in New Castile, to seize +the New Testament wherever it might be exposed for sale; but, at the same +time, enjoining them to be particularly careful not to detain or maltreat +the person or persons who might be attempting to vend it. An exact +description of myself accompanied these orders; and the authorities, both +civil and military, were exhorted to be on their guard against me and my +arts and machinations; for, as the document stated, I was to-day in one +place, and tomorrow at twenty leagues’ distance. + +I was not much discouraged by this blow, which, indeed, did not come +entirely unexpected. I, however, determined to change the sphere of +action, and not expose the sacred volume to seizure at every step which I +should take to circulate it. In my late attempts I had directed my +attention exclusively to the villages and small towns, in which it was +quite easy for the government to frustrate my efforts by means of +circulars to the local authorities, who would, of course, be on the +alert, and whose vigilance it would be impossible to baffle, as every +novelty which occurs in a small place is forthwith bruited about. But +the case would be widely different amongst the crowds of the capital, +where I could pursue my labours with comparative secrecy. My present +plan was to abandon the rural districts, and to offer the sacred volume +at Madrid, from house to house, at the same low price as in the country. +This plan I forthwith put into execution. + +Having an extensive acquaintance amongst the lower orders, I selected +eight intelligent individuals to co-operate with me, amongst whom were +five women. All these I supplied with Testaments, and then sent them +forth to all the parishes in Madrid. The result of their efforts more +than answered my expectations. In less than fifteen days after my return +from Naval Carnero, nearly six hundred copies of the life and words of +Him of Nazareth had been sold in the streets and alleys of Madrid: a fact +which I hope I may be permitted to mention with gladness and with decent +triumph in the Lord. + +One of the richest streets is the Calle Montera, where reside the +principal merchants and shopkeepers of Madrid. It is, in fact, the +street of commerce, in which respect, and in being a favourite promenade, +it corresponds with the far-famed Nefsky {234} of Saint Petersburg. +Every house in this street was supplied with its Testament, and the same +might be said with respect to the Puerta del Sol. Nay, in some +instances, every individual in the house, man and child, manservant and +maid-servant, was furnished with a copy. My Greek, Antonio, made +wonderful exertions in this quarter; and it is but justice to say that, +but for his instrumentality, on many occasions, I might have been by no +means able to give so favourable an account of the spread of “the Bible +in Spain.” There was a time when I was in the habit of saying “dark +Madrid,” an expression which, I thank God, I could now drop. It were +scarcely just to call a city “dark,” in which thirteen hundred Testaments +at least were in circulation, and in daily use. + +It was now that I turned to account a supply of Bibles which I had +received from Barcelona, in sheets, at the commencement of the preceding +year. The demand for the entire Scriptures was great; indeed far greater +than I could answer, as the books were disposed of faster than they could +be bound by the man whom I employed for that purpose. Eight-and-twenty +copies were bespoken and paid for before delivery. Many of these Bibles +found their way into the best houses in Madrid. The Marquis of --- had a +large family, but every individual of it, old and young, was in +possession of a Bible, and likewise a Testament, which, strange to say, +were recommended by the chaplain of the house. One of my most zealous +agents in the propagation of the Bible was an ecclesiastic. He never +walked out without carrying one beneath his gown, which he offered to the +first person he met whom he thought likely to purchase. Another +excellent assistant was an elderly gentleman of Navarre, enormously rich, +who was continually purchasing copies on his own account, which he, as I +was told, sent into his native province, for distribution amongst his +friends and the poor. + +On a certain night I had retired to rest rather more early than usual, +being slightly indisposed. I soon fell asleep, and had continued so for +some hours, when I was suddenly aroused by the opening of the door of the +small apartment in which I lay. I started up, and beheld Maria Diaz, +with a lamp in her hand, enter the room. I observed that her features, +which were in general peculiarly calm and placid, wore a somewhat +startled expression. “What is the hour, and what brings you here?” I +demanded. + +“_Señor_,” said she, closing the door, and coming up to the bedside, “it +is close upon midnight; but a messenger belonging to the police has just +entered the house, and demanded to see you. I told him that it was +impossible, for that your worship was in bed. Whereupon he sneezed in my +face, and said that he would see you if you were in your coffin. He has +all the look of a goblin, and has thrown me into a tremor. I am far from +being a timid person, as you are aware, _Don Jorge_; but I confess that I +never cast my eyes on these wretches of the police, but my heart dies +away within me! I know them but too well, and what they are capable of.” + +“Pooh,” said I, “be under no apprehension; let him come in, I fear him +not, whether he be _alguazil_ or hobgoblin. {236} Stand, however, at the +doorway, that you may be a witness of what takes place, as it is more +than probable that he comes at this unseasonable hour to create a +disturbance, that he may have an opportunity of making an unfavourable +report to his principals, like the fellow on the former occasion.” + +The hostess left the apartment, and I heard her say a word or two to some +one in the passage, whereupon there was a loud sneeze, and in a moment +after a singular figure appeared at the doorway. It was that of a very +old man, with long white hair, which escaped from beneath the eaves of an +exceedingly high-peaked hat. He stooped considerably, and moved along +with a shambling gait. I could not see much of his face, which, as the +landlady stood behind him with the lamp, was consequently in deep shadow. +I could observe, however, that his eyes sparkled like those of a ferret. +He advanced to the foot of the bed, in which I was still lying, wondering +what this strange visit could mean; and there he stood gazing at me for a +minute, at least, without uttering a syllable. Suddenly, however, he +protruded a spare skinny hand from the cloak in which it had hitherto +been enveloped, and pointed with a short staff, tipped with metal, in the +direction of my face, as if he were commencing an exorcism. He appeared +to be about to speak, but his words, if he intended any, were stifled in +their birth by a sudden sternutation which escaped him, and which was so +violent that the hostess started back, exclaiming, “_Ave Maria +purísima_!” and nearly dropped the lamp in her alarm. + +“My good person,” said I, “what do you mean by this foolish hobgoblinry? +If you have anything to communicate do so at once, and go about your +business. I am unwell, and you are depriving me of my repose.” + +“By the virtue of this staff,” said the old man, “and the authority which +it gives me to do and say that which is convenient, I do command, order, +and summon you to appear to-morrow, at the eleventh hour, at the office +of my lord the _corregidor_ of this village of Madrid, {237} in order +that, standing before him humbly, and with befitting reverence, you may +listen to whatever he may have to say, or, if necessary, may yield +yourself up to receive the castigation of any crimes which you may have +committed, whether trivial or enormous. _Tenez_, _compère_,” he added, +in most villanous French, “_voilà mon affaire_; _voilà ce que je viens +vous dire_.” + +Thereupon he glared at me for a moment, nodded his head twice, and +replacing his staff beneath his cloak, shambled out of the room, and with +a valedictory sneeze in the passage left the house. + +Precisely at eleven on the following day I attended at the office of the +_corregidor_. He was not the individual whose anger I had incurred on a +former occasion, and who had thought proper to imprison me, but another +person, I believe a Catalan, whose name I have also forgotten. Indeed, +these civil employments were at this period given to-day and taken away +tomorrow, so that the person who held one of them for a month might +consider himself a functionary of long standing. I was not kept waiting +a moment, but as soon as I had announced myself, was forthwith ushered +into the presence of the _corregidor_—a good-looking, portly, and +well-dressed personage, seemingly about fifty. He was writing at a desk +when I entered, but almost immediately arose and came towards me. He +looked me full in the face, and I, nothing abashed, kept my eyes fixed +upon his. He had, perhaps, expected a less independent bearing, and that +I should have quaked and crouched before him; but now, conceiving himself +bearded in his own den, his old Spanish leaven was forthwith stirred up. +He plucked his whiskers fiercely. “_Escuchad_,” said he, casting upon me +a ferocious glance, “I wish to ask you a question.” + +“Before I answer any question of your excellency,” said I, “I shall take +the liberty of putting one myself. What law or reason is there that I, a +peaceable individual and a foreigner, should have my rest disturbed by +_duendes_ and hobgoblins sent at midnight to summon me to appear at +public offices like a criminal?” + +“You do not speak the truth,” shouted the _corregidor_; “the person sent +to summon you was neither _duende_ nor hobgoblin, but one of the most +ancient and respectable officers of this _casa_, and so far from being +despatched at midnight, it wanted twenty-five minutes to that hour by my +own watch when he left this office, and as your lodging is not distant, +he must have arrived there at least ten minutes before midnight, so that +you are by no means accurate, and are found wanting in regard to truth.” + +“A distinction without a difference,” I replied. “For my own part, if I +am to be disturbed in my sleep, it is of little consequence whether at +midnight or ten minutes before that time; and with respect to your +messenger, although he might not be a hobgoblin, he had all the +appearance of one, and assuredly answered the purpose, by frightening the +woman of the house almost into fits by his hideous grimaces and sneezing +convulsions.” + +_Corregidor_.—You are a—I know not what. Do you know that I have the +power to imprison you? + +_Myself_.—You have twenty _alguazils_ at your beck and call, and have of +course the power, and so had your predecessor, who nearly lost his +situation by imprisoning me; but you know full well that you have not the +right, as I am not under your jurisdiction, but that of the +captain-general. If I have obeyed your summons, it was simply because I +had a curiosity to know what you wanted with me, and from no other motive +whatever. As for imprisoning me, I beg leave to assure you, that you +have my full consent to do so; the most polite society in Madrid is to be +found in the prison, and as I am at present compiling a vocabulary of the +language of the Madrilenian thieves, I should have, in being imprisoned, +an excellent opportunity of completing it. There is much to be learnt +even in the prison, for, as the gypsies say, “The dog that trots about +finds a bone.” {240} + +_Corregidor_.—Your words are not those of a _caballero_. Do you forget +where you are, and in whose presence? Is this a fitting place to talk of +thieves and gypsies in? + +_Myself_.—Really I know of no place more fitting, unless it be the +prison. But we are wasting time, and I am anxious to know for what I +have been summoned; whether for crimes trivial or enormous, as the +messenger said. + +It was a long time before I could obtain the required information from +the incensed _corregidor_; at last, however, it came. It appeared that a +box of Testaments, which I had despatched to Naval Carnero, had been +seized by the local authorities, and having been detained there for some +time, was at last sent back to Madrid, intended, as it now appeared, for +the hands of the _corregidor_. One day as it was lying at the +waggon-office, Antonio chanced to enter on some business of his own and +recognized the box, which he instantly claimed as my property, and having +paid the carriage, removed it to my warehouse. He had considered the +matter as of so little importance, that he had not as yet mentioned it to +me. The poor _corregidor_, however, had no doubt that it was a deep-laid +scheme to plunder and insult him. And now, working himself up into +almost a frenzy of excitement, he stamped on the ground, exclaiming, +“_Que picardia_! _Que infamia_!” + +The old system, thought I, of prejudging people, and imputing to them +motives and actions of which they never dreamed. I then told him frankly +that I was entirely ignorant of the circumstance by which he had felt +himself aggrieved; but that if, upon inquiry, I found that the chest had +actually been removed by my servant from the office to which it had been +forwarded, I would cause it forthwith to be restored, although it was my +own property. “I have plenty more Testaments,” said I, “and can afford +to lose fifty or a hundred. I am a man of peace, and wish not to have +any dispute with the authorities for the sake of an old chest and a cargo +of books, whose united value would scarcely amount to forty dollars.” + +He looked at me for a moment, as if in doubt of my sincerity, then, again +plucking his whiskers, he forthwith proceeded to attack me in another +quarter: “_Pero que infamia_, _que picardia_! to come into Spain for the +purpose of overturning the religion of the country. What would you say +if the Spaniards were to go to England and attempt to overturn the +Lutheranism established there?” + +“They would be most heartily welcome,” I replied; “more especially if +they would attempt to do so by circulating the Bible, the book of +Christians, even as the English are doing in Spain. But your excellency +is not perhaps aware that the Pope has a fair field and fair play in +England, and is permitted to make as many converts from Lutheranism every +day in the week as are disposed to go over to him. He cannot boast, +however, of much success; the people are too fond of light to embrace +darkness, and would smile at the idea of exchanging their Gospel +privileges for the superstitious ceremonies and observances of the Church +of Rome.” + +On my repeating my promise that the books and chest should be forthwith +restored, the _corregidor_ declared himself satisfied, and all of a +sudden became excessively polite and condescending: he even went so far +as to say that he left it entirely with myself, whether to return the +books or not; “and,” continued he, “before you go, I wish to tell you +that my private opinion is, that it is highly advisable in all countries +to allow full and perfect tolerance in religious matters, and to permit +every religious system to stand or fall according to its own merits.” + +Such were the concluding words of the _corregidor_ of Madrid, which, +whether they expressed his private opinion or not, were certainly +grounded on sense and reason. I saluted him respectfully and retired, +and forthwith performed my promise with regard to the books; and thus +terminated this affair. + +It almost appeared to me at this time that a religious reform was +commencing in Spain; indeed, matters had of late come to my knowledge, +which, had they been prophesied only a year before, I should have +experienced much difficulty in believing. + +The reader will be surprised when I state that, in two churches of +Madrid, the New Testament was regularly expounded every Sunday evening, +by the respective curates, to about twenty children who attended, and who +were all provided with copies of the society’s edition of Madrid, 1837. +{242a} The churches which I allude to were those of San Gines and Santa +Cruz. {242b} Now, I humbly conceive that this fact alone is more than +equivalent to all the expense which the society had incurred in the +efforts which it had been making to introduce the Gospel into Spain; but +be this as it may, I am certain that it amply recompensed me for all the +anxiety and unhappiness which I had undergone. I now felt that whenever +I should be compelled to discontinue my labours in the Peninsula, I +should retire without the slightest murmur, my heart being filled with +gratitude to the Lord for having permitted me, useless vessel as I was, +to see at least some of the seed springing up, which during two years I +had been casting on the stony ground of the interior of Spain. + +When I recollected the difficulties which had encompassed our path, I +could sometimes hardly credit all that the Almighty had permitted us to +accomplish within the last year. A large edition of the New Testament +had been almost entirely disposed of in the very centre of Spain, in +spite of the opposition and the furious cry of the sanguinary priesthood +and the edicts of a deceitful government, and a spirit of religious +inquiry excited, which I had fervent hope would sooner or later lead to +blessed and most important results. Till of late the name most abhorred +and dreaded in these parts of Spain was that of Martin Luther, who was in +general considered as a species of demon, a cousin-german to Belial and +Beelzebub, who, under the disguise of a man, wrote and preached blasphemy +against the Highest; yet now, strange to say, this once abominated +personage was spoken of with no slight degree of respect. People with +Bibles in their hands not unfrequently visited me, inquiring with much +earnestness, and with no slight degree of simplicity, for the writings of +the great Doctor Martin, whom, indeed, some supposed to be still alive. + +It will be as well here to observe, that of all the names connected with +the Reformation, that of Luther is the only one known in Spain; and let +me add, that no controversial writings but his are likely to be esteemed +as possessing the slightest weight or authority, however great their +intrinsic merit may be. The common description of tracts, written with +the view of exposing the errors of Popery, are therefore not calculated +to prove of much benefit in Spain, though it is probable that much good +might be accomplished by well executed translations of judicious +selections from the works of Luther. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII. + + +Projected Journey—A Scene of Blood—The Friar—Seville—Beauties of +Seville—Orange Trees and Flowers—Murillo—The Guardian Angel—Dionysius—My +Coadjutors—Demand for the Bible. + +By the middle of April I had sold as many Testaments as I thought Madrid +would bear: I therefore called in my people, for I was afraid to +overstock the market, and to bring the book into contempt by making it +too common. I had, indeed, by this time, barely a thousand copies +remaining of the edition which I had printed two years previously; and +with respect to Bibles, every copy was by this time disposed of, though +there was still a great demand for them, which, of course, I was unable +to satisfy. + +With the remaining copies of the Testament, I now determined to betake +myself to Seville, where little had hitherto been effected in the way of +circulation: my preparations were soon made. The roads were at this time +in a highly dangerous state, on which account I thought to go along with +a convoy, which was about to start for Andalusia. Two days, however, +before its departure, understanding that the number of people who +likewise proposed to avail themselves of it was likely to be very great, +and reflecting on the slowness of this way of travelling, and moreover +the insults to which civilians were frequently subjected from the +soldiers and petty officers, I determined to risk the journey with the +mail. This resolution I carried into effect. Antonio, whom I had +resolved to take with me, and my two horses, departed with the convoy, +whilst in a few days I followed with the mail courier. We travelled all +the way without the slightest accident, my usual wonderful good fortune +accompanying us. I might well call it wonderful, for I was running into +the den of a lion; the whole of La Mancha, with the exception of a few +fortified places, being once more in the hands of Palillos and his +banditti, who, whenever it pleased them, stopped the courier, burnt the +vehicle and letters, murdered the paltry escort, and carried away any +chance passenger to the mountains, where an enormous ransom was demanded, +the alternative being four shots through the head, as the Spaniards say. + +The upper part of Andalusia was becoming rapidly nearly as bad as La +Mancha. The last time the mail had passed, it was attacked at the defile +of La Rumblar {246} by six mounted robbers; it was guarded by an escort +of as many soldiers, but the former suddenly galloped from behind a +solitary _venta_, and dashed the soldiers to the ground, who were taken +quite by surprise, the hoofs of the robbers’ horses making no noise on +account of the sandy nature of the ground. The soldiers were instantly +disarmed and bound to olive trees, with the exception of two, who escaped +amongst the rocks; they were then mocked and tormented by the robbers, or +rather fiends, for nearly half an hour, when they were shot; the head of +the corporal who commanded being blown to fragments with a blunderbuss. +The robbers then burned the coach, which they accomplished by igniting +the letters by means of the tow with which they light their cigars. The +life of the courier was saved by one of them, who had formerly been his +postilion; he was, however, robbed and stripped. As we passed by the +scene of the butchery, the poor fellow wept, and, though a Spaniard, +cursed Spain and the Spaniards, saying that he intended shortly to pass +over to the Moreria, to confess Mahomet, and to learn the law of the +Moors, for that any country and religion were better than his own. He +pointed to the tree where the corporal had been tied; though much rain +had fallen since, the ground around was still saturated with blood, and a +dog was gnawing a piece of the unfortunate wretch’s skull. A friar +travelled with us the whole way from Madrid to Seville; he was of the +missionaries, and was going to the Philippine Islands, to conquer (_para +conquistar_), for such was his word, by which I suppose he meant +preaching to the Indians. During the whole journey he exhibited every +symptom of the most abject fear, which operated upon him so that he +became deadly sick, and we were obliged to stop twice in the road, and +lay him amongst the green corn. He said that if he fell into the hands +of the factious, he was a lost priest, for that they would first make him +say Mass, and then blow him up with gunpowder. He had been professor of +philosophy, as he told me, in one of the convents (I think it was San +Tomas) of Madrid before their suppression, but appeared to be grossly +ignorant of the Scriptures, which he confounded with the works of Virgil. + +We stopped at Manzanares as usual; it was Sunday morning, and the +market-place was crowded with people. I was recognized in a moment, and +twenty pair of legs instantly hurried away in quest of the prophetess, +who presently made her appearance in the house to which we had retired to +breakfast. After many greetings on both sides, she proceeded, in her +Latin, to give me an account of all that had occurred in the village +since I had last been there, and of the atrocities of the factious in the +neighbourhood. I asked her to breakfast, and introduced her to the +friar, whom she addressed in this manner: “_Anne Domine Reverendissime +facis adhuc sacrificium_?” {248} But the friar did not understand her, +and, waxing angry, anathematized her for a witch, and bade her begone. +She was, however, not to be disconcerted, and commenced singing, in +extemporary Castilian verse, the praises of friars and religious houses +in general. On departing I gave her a _peseta_, upon which she burst +into tears, and entreated that I would write to her if I reached Seville +in safety. + +We did arrive at Seville in safety, and I took leave of the friar, +telling him that I hoped to meet him again at Philippi. As it was my +intention to remain at Seville for some months, I determined to hire a +house, in which I conceived I could live with more privacy, and at the +same time more economically, than in a _posada_. It was not long before +I found one in every respect suited to me. It was situated in the +Plazuela de la Pila Seca, a retired part of the city in the neighbourhood +of the cathedral, and at a short distance from the gate of Xeres; and in +this house, on the arrival of Antonio and the horses, which occurred +within a few days, I took up my abode. + +I was now once more in beautiful Seville, and had soon ample time and +leisure to enjoy its delights and those of the surrounding country. +Unfortunately, at the time of my arrival, and indeed for the next ensuing +fortnight, the heaven of Andalusia, in general so glorious, was overcast +with black clouds, which discharged tremendous showers of rain, such as +few of the Sevillians, according to their own account, had ever seen +before. This extraordinary weather had wrought no little damage in the +neighbourhood, causing the Guadalquivir, which, during the rainy season, +is a rapid and furious stream, to overflow its banks, and to threaten an +inundation. It is true that intervals were occurring when the sun made +his appearance from his cloudy tabernacle, and with his golden rays +caused everything around to smile, enticing the butterfly forth from the +bush, and the lizard from the hollow tree, and I invariably availed +myself of these intervals to take a hasty promenade. + +Oh how pleasant it is, especially in springtide, to stray along the +shores of the Guadalquivir! Not far from the city, down the river, lies +a grove called _Las Delicias_, or “The Delights.” It consists of trees +of various kinds, but more especially of poplars and elms, and is +traversed by long shady walks. This grove is the favourite promenade of +the Sevillians, and there one occasionally sees assembled whatever the +town produces of beauty or gallantry. There wander the black-eyed +Andalusian dames and damsels, clad in their graceful silken _mantillas_; +and there gallops the Andalusian cavalier, on his long-tailed thick-maned +steed of Moorish ancestry. As the sun is descending, it is enchanting to +glance back from this place in the direction of the city; the prospect is +inexpressibly beautiful. Yonder in the distance, high and enormous, +stands the Golden Tower, now used as a toll-house, but the principal +bulwark of the city in the time of the Moors. It stands on the shore of +the river, like a giant keeping watch, and is the first edifice which +attracts the eye of the voyager as he moves up the stream to Seville. On +the other side, opposite the tower, stands the noble Augustine convent, +the ornament of the _faubourg_ of Triana, whilst between the two edifices +rolls the broad Guadalquivir, bearing on its bosom a flotilla of barks +from Catalonia and Valencia. Further up is seen the bridge of boats, +which traverses the water. The principal object of this prospect, +however, is the Golden Tower, where the beams of the setting sun seem to +be concentrated as in a focus, so that it appears built of pure gold, and +probably from that circumstance received the name which it now bears. +Cold, cold must the heart be which can remain insensible to the beauties +of this magic scene, to do justice to which the pencil of Claude himself +were barely equal. Often have I shed tears of rapture whilst I beheld +it, and listened to the thrush and the nightingale piping forth their +melodious songs in the woods, and inhaled the breeze laden with the +perfume of the thousand orange gardens of Seville: + + “Kennst du das Land wo die Citronen blühen?” {251a} + +The interior of Seville scarcely corresponds with the exterior; the +streets are narrow, badly paved, and full of misery and beggary. The +houses are, for the most part, built in the Moorish fashion, with a +quadrangular _patio_, or court, in the centre, where stands a marble +fountain, constantly distilling limpid water. These courts, during the +time of the summer heats, are covered over with a canvas awning, and +beneath this the family sit during the greater part of the day. In many, +especially those belonging to the houses of the wealthy, are to be found +shrubs, orange trees, and all kinds of flowers, and perhaps a small +aviary, so that no situation can be conceived more delicious than to lie +here in the shade, hearkening to the song of the birds and the voice of +the fountain. + +Nothing is more calculated to interest the stranger as he wanders through +Seville, than a view of these courts, obtained from the street through +the iron-grated door. Oft have I stopped to observe them, and as often +sighed that my fate did not permit me to reside in such an Eden for the +remainder of my days. On a former occasion I have spoken of the +cathedral of Seville, but only in a brief and cursory manner. {251b} It +is, perhaps, the most magnificent cathedral in all Spain, and though not +so regular in its architecture as those of Toledo and Burgos, is far more +worthy of admiration when considered as a whole. It is utterly +impossible to wander through the long aisles, and to raise one’s eyes to +the richly inlaid roof, supported by colossal pillars, without +experiencing sensations of sacred awe and deep astonishment. It is true +that the interior, like those of the generality of the Spanish +cathedrals, is somewhat dark and gloomy; yet it loses nothing by this +gloom, which, on the contrary, rather increases the solemnity of the +effect. Notre Dame of Paris is a noble building, yet to him who has seen +the Spanish cathedrals, and particularly this of Seville, it almost +appears trivial and mean, and more like a town-hall than a temple of the +Eternal. The Parisian cathedral is entirely destitute of that solemn +darkness and gloomy pomp which so abound in the Sevillian, and is thus +destitute of the principal requisite to a cathedral. + +In most of the chapels are to be found some of the very best pictures of +the Spanish school; and, in particular, many of the master-pieces of +Murillo, a native of Seville. Of all the pictures of this extraordinary +man, one of the least celebrated is that which has always wrought on me +the most profound impression. I allude to the Guardian Angel, _El Angel +de la Guardia_, a small picture which stands at the bottom of the church, +and looks up the principal aisle. The angel, holding a flaming sword in +his right hand, is conducting the child: this child is, in my opinion, +the most wonderful of all the creations of Murillo; the form is that of +an infant about five years of age, and the expression of the countenance +is quite infantine, but the tread—it is the tread of a conqueror, of a +God, of the Creator of the universe; and the earthly globe appears to +tremble beneath its majesty. + +The service of the cathedral is in general well attended, especially when +it is known that a sermon is to be preached. All these sermons are +extemporaneous; some of them are edifying, and faithful to the +Scriptures. I have often listened to them with pleasure, though I was +much surprised to remark, that when the preachers quoted from the Bible, +their quotations were almost invariably taken from the apocryphal +writings. There is in general no lack of worshippers at the principal +shrines—women for the most part—many of whom appear to be animated with +the most fervent devotion. + +I had flattered myself, previous to my departure from Madrid, that I +should experience but little difficulty in the circulation of the Gospel +in Andalusia, at least for a time, as the field was new, and myself and +the object of my mission less known and dreaded than in New Castile. It +appeared, however, that the government at Madrid had fulfilled its +threat, transmitting orders throughout Spain for the seizure of my books +wherever found. The Testaments that arrived from Madrid were seized at +the custom-house, to which place all goods on their arrival, even from +the interior, are carried, in order that a duty be imposed upon them. +Through the management of Antonio, however, I procured one of the two +chests, whilst the other was sent down to San Lucar, to be embarked for a +foreign land as soon as I could make arrangements for that purpose. + +I did not permit myself to be discouraged by this slight _contretemps_, +although I heartily regretted the loss of the books which had been +seized, and which I could no longer hope to circulate in these parts, +where they were so much wanted; but I consoled myself with the +reflection, that I had still several hundred at my disposal, from the +distribution of which, if it pleased the Lord, a blessed harvest might +still proceed. + +I did not commence operations for some time, for I was in a strange +place, and scarcely knew what course to pursue. I had no one to assist +me but poor Antonio, who was as ignorant of the place as myself. +Providence, however, soon sent me a coadjutor in rather a singular +manner. I was standing in the courtyard of the Reyna Posada, where I +occasionally dined, when a man, singularly dressed and gigantically tall, +entered. My curiosity was excited, and I inquired of the master of the +house who he was. He informed me that he was a foreigner, who had +resided a considerable time in Seville, and he believed a Greek. Upon +hearing this, I instantly went up to the stranger, and accosted him in +the Greek language, in which, though I speak it very ill, I can make +myself understood. He replied in the same idiom, and, flattered by the +interest which I, a foreigner, expressed for his nation, was not slow in +communicating to me his history. He told me that his name was Dionysius, +that he was a native of Cephalonia, and had been educated for the Church, +which, not suiting his temper, he had abandoned, in order to follow the +profession of the sea, for which he had an early inclination. That after +many adventures and changes of fortune, he found himself one morning on +the coast of Spain, a shipwrecked mariner, and that, ashamed to return to +his own country in poverty and distress, he had remained in the +Peninsula, residing chiefly in Seville, where he now carried on a small +trade in books. He said that he was of the Greek religion, to which he +professed strong attachment, and, soon discovering that I was a +Protestant, spoke with unbounded abhorrence of the papal system; nay, of +its followers in general, whom he called Latins, and whom he charged with +the ruin of his own country, inasmuch as they sold it to the Turk. It +instantly struck me, that this individual would be an excellent assistant +in the work which had brought me to Seville, namely, the propagation of +the eternal Gospel; and, accordingly, after some more conversation, in +which he exhibited considerable learning, I explained myself to him. He +entered into my views with eagerness, and, in the sequel, I had no reason +to regret my confidence, he having disposed of a considerable number of +New Testaments, and even contrived to send a certain number of copies to +two small towns at some distance from Seville. + +Another helper in the circulation of the Gospel I found in an aged +professor of music, who, with much stiffness and ceremoniousness, united +much that was excellent and admirable. This venerable individual, only +three days after I had made his acquaintance, brought me the price of six +Testaments and a Gypsy Gospel, which he had sold under the heat of an +Andalusian sun. What was his motive? A Christian one truly. He said +that his unfortunate countrymen, who were then robbing and murdering each +other, might probably be rendered better by the reading of the Gospel, +but could never be injured. Adding, that many a man had been reformed by +the Scriptures, but that no one ever yet became a thief or assassin from +its perusal. + +But my most extraordinary agent was one whom I occasionally employed in +circulating the Scriptures amongst the lower classes. I might have +turned the services of this individual to far greater account had the +quantity of books at my disposal been greater; but they were now +diminishing rapidly, and as I had no hopes of a fresh supply, I was +almost tempted to be niggard of the few which remained. This agent was a +Greek bricklayer, by name Johannes Chrysostom, who had been introduced to +me by Dionysius. He was a native of the Morea, but had been upwards of +thirty-five years in Spain, so that he had almost entirely lost his +native language. Nevertheless, his attachment to his own country was so +strong that he considered whatever was not Greek as utterly barbarous and +bad. Though entirely destitute of education, he had, by his strength of +character and by a kind of rude eloquence which he possessed, obtained +such a mastery over the minds of the labouring classes of Seville, that +they assented to almost everything he said, notwithstanding the shocks +which their prejudices were continually receiving. So that, although he +was a foreigner, he could at any time have become the Masaniello {256} of +Seville. A more honest creature I never saw, and I soon found that if I +employed him, notwithstanding his eccentricities, I might entertain +perfect confidence that his actions would be no disparagement to the book +he vended. + +We were continually pressed for Bibles, which of course we could not +supply. Testaments were held in comparatively little esteem. I had by +this time made the discovery of a fact which it would have been well had +I been aware of three years before: but we live and learn. I mean the +inexpediency of printing Testaments, and Testaments _alone_, for Catholic +countries. The reason is plain: the Catholic, unused to Scripture +reading, finds a thousand things which he cannot possibly understand in +the New Testament, the foundation of which is the Old. “Search the +Scriptures, for they bear witness of me,” may well be applied to this +point. It may be replied, that New Testaments separate are in great +demand and of infinite utility in England; but England, thanks be to the +Lord, is not a papal country; and though an English labourer may read a +Testament, and derive from it the most blessed fruit, it does not follow +that a Spanish or Italian peasant will enjoy similar success, as he will +find many dark things with which the other is well acquainted, and +competent to understand, being versed in the Bible history from his +childhood. I confess, however, that in my summer campaign of the +preceding year, I could not have accomplished with Bibles what Providence +permitted me to effect with Testaments, the former being far too bulky +for rural journeys. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIX. + + +The Solitary House—The Dehesa—Johannes Chrysostom—Manuel—Bookselling at +Seville—Dionysius and the Priests—Athens and Rome—Proselytism—Seizure of +Testaments—Departure from Seville. + +I have already stated that I had hired an empty house in Seville, wherein +I purposed to reside for some months. It stood in a solitary situation, +occupying one side of a small square. It was built quite in the +beautiful taste of Andalusia, with a court paved with small slabs of +white and blue marble. In the middle of this court was a fountain well +supplied with the crystal lymph, the murmur of which, as it fell from its +slender pillar into an octangular basin, might be heard in every +apartment. The house itself was large and spacious, consisting of two +stories, and containing room sufficient for at least ten times the number +of inmates which now occupied it. I generally kept during the day in the +lower apartments, on account of the refreshing coolness which pervaded +them. In one of these was an immense stone water-trough, ever +overflowing with water from the fountain, in which I immersed myself +every morning. Such were the premises to which, after having provided +myself with a few indispensable articles of furniture, I now retreated +with Antonio and my two horses. + +I was fortunate in the possession of these quadrupeds, inasmuch as it +afforded me an opportunity of enjoying to a greater extent the beauties +of the surrounding country. I know of few things in this life more +delicious than a ride in the spring or summer season in the neighbourhood +of Seville. My favourite one was in the direction of Xeres, over the +wide Dehesa, as it is called, which extends from Seville to the gates of +the former town, a distance of nearly fifty miles, with scarcely a town +or village intervening. The ground is irregular and broken, and is for +the most part covered with that species of brushwood called _carrasco_, +amongst which winds a bridle-path, by no means well defined, chiefly +trodden by the _arrieros_, with their long trains of mules and +_borricos_. It is here that the balmy air of beautiful Andalusia is to +be inhaled in full perfection. Aromatic herbs and flowers are growing in +abundance, diffusing their perfume around. Here dark and gloomy cares +are dispelled as if by magic from the bosom, as the eyes wander over the +prospect, lighted by unequalled sunshine, in which gaily painted +butterflies wanton, and green and golden _salamanquesas_ lie extended, +enjoying the luxurious warmth, and occasionally startling the traveller, +by springing up and making off with portentous speed to the nearest +coverts, whence they stare upon him with their sharp and lustrous eyes. +I repeat, that it is impossible to continue melancholy in regions like +these, and the ancient Greeks and Romans were right in making them the +site of their Elysian fields. Most beautiful they are, even in their +present desolation, for the hand of man has not cultivated them since the +fatal era of the expulsion of the Moors, which drained Andalusia of at +least two-thirds of its population. + +Every evening it was my custom to ride along the Dehesa, until the +topmost towers of Seville were no longer in sight. I then turned about, +and pressing my knees against the sides of Sidi Habismilk, my Arabian, +the fleet creature, to whom spur or lash had never been applied, would +set off in the direction of the town with the speed of a whirlwind, +seeming in his headlong course to devour the ground of the waste, until +he had left it behind, then dashing through the elm-covered road of the +Delicias, his thundering hoofs were soon heard beneath the vaulted +archway of the Puerta de Xeres, and in another moment he would stand +stone-still before the door of my solitary house in the little silent +square of the Pila Seca. + +It is eight o’clock at night, I am returned from the Dehesa, and am +standing on the _sotea_, or flat roof of my house, enjoying the cool +breeze. Johannes Chrysostom has just arrived from his labour. I have +not spoken to him, but I hear him below in the courtyard, detailing to +Antonio the progress he has made in the last two days. He speaks +barbarous Greek, plentifully interlarded with Spanish words; but I gather +from his discourse, that he has already sold twelve Testaments among his +fellow-labourers. I hear copper coin falling on the pavement, and +Antonio, who is not of a very Christian temper, reproving him for not +having brought the proceeds of the sale in silver. He now asks for +fifteen more, as he says the demand is becoming great, and that he shall +have no difficulty in disposing of them in the course of the morrow, +whilst pursuing his occupations. Antonio goes to fetch them, and he now +stands alone by the marble fountain, singing a wild song, which I believe +to be a hymn of his beloved Greek Church. Behold one of the helpers +which the Lord has sent me in my Gospel labours on the shores of the +Guadalquivir. + +I lived in the greatest retirement during the whole time that I passed at +Seville, spending the greater part of each day in study, or in that half +dreamy state of inactivity which is the natural effect of the influence +of a warm climate. There was little in the character of the people +around to induce me to enter much into society. The higher class of the +Andalusians are probably upon the whole the most vain and foolish of +human beings, with a taste for nothing but sensual amusements, foppery in +dress, and ribald discourse. Their insolence is only equalled by their +meanness, and their prodigality by their avarice. The lower classes are +a shade or two better than their superiors in station: little, it is +true, can be said for the tone of their morality; they are overreaching, +quarrelsome, and revengeful, but they are upon the whole more courteous, +and certainly not more ignorant. + +The Andalusians are in general held in the lowest estimation by the rest +of the Spaniards, even those in opulent circumstances finding some +difficulty at Madrid in procuring admission into respectable society, +where, if they find their way, they are invariably the objects of +ridicule, from the absurd airs and grimaces in which they indulge,—their +tendency to boasting and exaggeration, their curious accent, and the +incorrect manner in which they speak and pronounce the Castilian +language. {261} + +In a word, the Andalusians, in all estimable traits of character, are as +far below the other Spaniards as the country which they inhabit is +superior in beauty and fertility to the other provinces of Spain. + +Yet let it not for a moment be supposed that I have any intention of +asserting, that excellent and estimable individuals are not to be found +amongst the Andalusians; it was amongst _them_ that I myself discovered +one, whom I have no hesitation in asserting to be the most extraordinary +character that has ever come within the sphere of my knowledge; but this +was no scion of a noble or knightly house, “no wearer of soft clothing,” +no sleek highly perfumed personage, none of the romanticos who walk in +languishing attitudes about the streets of Seville, with long black hair +hanging upon their shoulders in luxuriant curls: but one of those whom +the proud and unfeeling style the dregs of the populace, a haggard, +houseless, penniless man, in rags and tatters. I allude to Manuel, +the—what shall I call him?—seller of lottery tickets, driver of death +carts, or poet laureate in gypsy songs? I wonder whether thou art still +living, my friend Manuel; thou gentleman of nature’s forming—honest, +pure-minded, humble, yet dignified being! Art thou still wandering +through the courts of beautiful Safacoro, or on the banks of the Len +Baro, {262} thine eyes fixed in vacancy, and thy mind striving to recall +some half-forgotten couplet of Luis Lobo; or art thou gone to thy long +rest, out beyond the Xeres gate within the wall of the Campo Santo, to +which, in times of pest and sickness, thou wast wont to carry so many, +gypsy and Gentile, in thy cart of the tinkling bell? Oft in the +_réunions_ of the lettered and learned in this land of universal +literature, when weary of the display of pedantry and egotism, have I +recurred with yearning to our gypsy recitations at the old house in the +Pila Seca. Oft, when sickened by the high-wrought professions of those +who bear the cross in gilded chariots, have I thought on thee, thy calm +faith, without pretence,—thy patience in poverty, and fortitude in +affliction; and as oft, when thinking of my speedily approaching end, +have I wished that I might meet thee once again, and that thy hands might +help to bear me to “the dead man’s acre” yonder on the sunny plain, O +Manuel! {263} + +My principal visitor was Dionysius, who seldom failed to make his +appearance every forenoon: the poor fellow came for sympathy and +conversation. It is difficult to imagine a situation more forlorn and +isolated than that of this man,—a Greek at Seville, with scarcely a +single acquaintance, and depending for subsistence on the miserable +pittance to be derived from selling a few books, for the most part hawked +about from door to door. “What could have first induced you to commence +bookselling in Seville?” said I to him, as he arrived one sultry day, +heated and fatigued, with a small bundle of books secured together by a +leather strap. + +_Dionysius_.—For want of a better employment, _Kyrie_, {264a} I have +adopted this most unprofitable and despised one. Oft have I regretted +not having been bred up as a shoemaker, or having learnt in my youth some +other useful handicraft, for gladly would I follow it now. Such, at +least, would procure me the respect of my fellow-creatures, inasmuch as +they needed me; but now all avoid me and look upon me with contempt; for +what have I to offer in this place that any one cares about? Books in +Seville! where no one reads, or at least nothing but new romances, +translated from the French, and obscenity. Books! Would I were a gypsy +and could trim donkeys, for then I were at least independent and were +more respected than I am at present. + +_Myself_.—Of what kind of books does your stock-in-trade consist? + +_Dionysius_.—Of those not likely to suit the Seville market, _Kyrie_; +books of sterling and intrinsic value; many of them in ancient Greek, +which I picked up upon the dissolution of the convents, when the contents +of the libraries were hurled into the courtyards, and there sold by the +_arroba_. I thought at first that I was about to make a fortune, and in +fact my books would be so in any other place; but here I have offered an +Elzevir {264b} for half a dollar in vain. I should starve were it not +for the strangers who occasionally purchase of me. + +_Myself_.—Seville is a large cathedral city, abounding with priests and +canons; surely some of these occasionally visit you to make purchases of +classic works and books connected with ecclesiastical literature. + +_Dionysius_.—If you think so, _Kyrie_, you know little respecting the +ecclesiastics of Seville. I am acquainted with many of them, and can +assure you that a tribe of beings can scarcely be found with a more +confirmed aversion to intellectual pursuits of every kind. Their reading +is confined to newspapers, which they take up in the hope of seeing that +their friend Don Carlos is at length reinstated at Madrid; but they +prefer their chocolate and biscuits, and nap before dinner, to the wisdom +of Plato and the eloquence of Tully. They occasionally visit me, but it +is only to pass away a heavy hour in chattering nonsense. Once on a time +three of them came, in the hope of making me a convert to their Latin +superstition. “_Signor Donatio_,” said they (for so they called me), +“how is it that an unprejudiced person like yourself, a man really with +some pretension to knowledge, can still cling to this absurd religion of +yours? Surely, after having resided so many years in a civilized country +like this of Spain, it is high time to abandon your half-pagan form of +worship, and to enter the bosom of the Church; now pray be advised, and +you shall be none the worse for it.” “Thank you, gentlemen,” I replied, +“for the interest you take in my welfare; I am always open to conviction; +let us proceed to discuss the subject. What are the points of my +religion which do not meet your approbation? You are of course well +acquainted with all our dogmas and ceremonies.” “We know nothing about +your religion, _Signor Donatio_, save that it is a very absurd one, and +therefore it is incumbent upon you, as an unprejudiced and well-informed +man, to renounce it.” “But, gentlemen, if you know nothing of my +religion, why call it absurd? Surely it is not the part of unprejudiced +people to disparage that of which they are ignorant.” “But, _Signor +Donatio_, it is not the Catholic Apostolic Roman religion, is it?” “It +may be, gentlemen, for what you appear to know of it; for your +information, however, I will tell you that it is not; it is the Greek +Apostolic religion. I do not call it catholic, for it is absurd to call +that catholic which is not universally acknowledged.” “But, _Signor +Donatio_, does not the matter speak for itself? What can a set of +ignorant Greek barbarians know about religion? If they set aside the +authority of Rome, whence should they derive any rational ideas of +religion? whence should they get the Gospel?” “The Gospel, gentlemen? +Allow me to show you a book. Here it is; what is your opinion of it?” +“_Signor Donati_, what does this mean? What characters of the devil are +these, are they Moorish? Who is able to understand them?” “I suppose +your worships, being Roman priests, know something of Latin; if you +inspect the title-page to the bottom, you will find, in the language of +your own Church, ‘the Gospel of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, in the +original Greek,’ of which your Vulgate is merely a translation, and not a +very correct one. With respect to the barbarism of Greece, it appears +that you are not aware that Athens was a city, and a famed one, centuries +before the first mud cabin of Rome was thatched, and the gypsy vagabonds +who first peopled it had escaped from the hands of justice.” “_Signor +Donatio_, you are an ignorant heretic, and insolent withal: _what +nonsense is this_! . . .” But I will not weary your ears, _Kyrie_, with +all the absurdities which the poor Latin _Papas_ {266} poured into mine; +the burden of their song being invariably, _what nonsense is this_! which +was certainly applicable enough to what they themselves were saying. +Seeing, however, that I was more than their match in religious +controversy, they fell foul of my country. “Spain is a better country +than Greece,” said one. “You never tasted bread before you came to +Spain,” cried another. “And little enough since,” thought I. “You never +before saw such a city as Seville,” said the third. But then ensued the +best part of the comedy: my visitors chanced to be natives of three +different places; one was of Seville, another of Utrera, and the third of +Miguel Turra, a miserable village in La Mancha. At the mention of +Seville, the other two instantly began to sing the praises of their +respective places of birth; this brought on comparisons, and a violent +dispute was the consequence. Much abuse passed between them, whilst I +stood by, shrugged my shoulders, and said _tipotas_. {267} At last, as +they were leaving the house, I said, “Who would have thought, gentlemen, +that the polemics of the Greek and Latin Churches were so closely +connected with the comparative merits of Seville, Utrera, and Miguel +Turra?” + +_Myself_.—Is the spirit of proselytism very prevalent here? Of what +description of people do their converts generally consist? + +_Dionysius_.—I will tell you, _Kyrie_; the generality of their converts +consist of German or English Protestant adventurers, who come here to +settle, and in course of time take to themselves wives from amongst the +Spanish, prior to which it is necessary to become members of the Latin +Church. A few are vagabond Jews, from Gibraltar or Tangier, who have +fled for their crimes into Spain, and who renounce their faith to escape +from starvation. These gentry, however, it is necessary to pay, on which +account the priests procure for them _padrinos_, or godfathers; these +generally consist of rich devotees over whom the priests have influence, +and who esteem it a glory and a meritorious act to assist in bringing +back lost souls to the Church. The neophyte allows himself to be +convinced on the promise of a _peseta_ a day, which is generally paid by +the godfathers for the first year, but seldom for a longer period. About +forty years ago, however, they made a somewhat notable convert. A civil +war arose in Morocco, caused by the separate pretensions of two brothers +to the throne. One of these being worsted, fled over to Spain, imploring +the protection of Charles IV. He soon became an object of particular +attention to the priests, who were not slow in converting him, and +induced Charles to settle upon him a pension of a dollar per day. He +died some few years since in Seville, a despised vagabond. He left +behind him a son, who is at present a notary, and outwardly very devout, +but a greater hypocrite and _picaron_ does not exist. I would you could +see his face, _Kyrie_, it is that of Judas Iscariot. I think you would +say so, for you are a physiognomist. He lives next door to me, and +notwithstanding his pretensions to religion, is permitted to remain in a +state of great poverty. + +And now nothing further for the present about Dionysius. + +About the middle of July our work was concluded at Seville, and for the +very efficient reason that I had no more Testaments to sell; somewhat +more than two hundred having been circulated since my arrival. + +About ten days before the time of which I am speaking, I was visited by +various _alguazils_, accompanied by a kind of headborough, who made a +small seizure of Testaments and gypsy Gospels, which happened to be lying +about. This visit was far from being disagreeable to me, as I considered +it to be a very satisfactory proof of the effect of our exertions in +Seville. I cannot help here relating an anecdote:—A day or two +subsequent, having occasion to call at the house of the headborough +respecting my passport, I found him lying on his bed, for it was the hour +of _siesta_, reading intently one of the Testaments which he had taken +away, all of which, if he had obeyed his orders, would have been +deposited in the office of the civil governor. So intently, indeed, was +he engaged in reading, that he did not at first observe my entrance; when +he did, however, he sprang up in great confusion, and locked the book up +in his cabinet, whereupon I smiled, and told him to be under no alarm, as +I was glad to see him so usefully employed. Recovering himself, he said +that he had read the book nearly through, and that he had found no harm +in it, but, on the contrary, everything to praise. Adding, he believed +that the clergy must be possessed with devils (_endemoniados_) to +persecute it in the manner they did. + +It was Sunday when the seizure was made, and I happened to be reading the +Liturgy. One of the _alguazils_, when going away, made an observation +respecting the very different manner in which the Protestants and +Catholics keep the Sabbath; the former being in their own houses reading +good books, and the latter abroad in the bull-ring, seeing the wild bulls +tear out the gory bowels of the poor horses. The bull amphitheatre at +Seville is the finest in all Spain, and is invariably on a Sunday (the +only day on which it is open) filled with applauding multitudes. + +I now made preparations for leaving Seville for a few months, my +destination being the coast of Barbary. Antonio, who did not wish to +leave Spain, in which were his wife and children, returned to Madrid, +rejoicing in a handsome gratuity with which I presented him. As it was +my intention to return to Seville, I left my house and horses in the +charge of a friend in whom I could confide, and departed. + +The reasons which induced me to visit Barbary will be seen in the +following chapters. + + + + +CHAPTER L. + + +Night on the Guadalquivir—Gospel Light—Bonanza—Strand of San +Lucar—Andalusian Scenery—History of a Chest—Cosas de los Ingleses—The Two +Gypsies—The Driver—The Red Nightcap—The Steam-Boat—Christian Language. + +On the night of the 31st of July I departed from Seville upon my +expedition, going on board one of the steamers which ply on the +Guadalquivir between Seville and Cadiz. + +It was my intention to stop at San Lucar, for the purpose of recovering +the chest of Testaments which had been placed in embargo there, until +such time as they could be removed from the kingdom of Spain. These +Testaments I intended for distribution amongst the Christians whom I +hoped to meet on the shores of Barbary. San Lucar is about fifteen +leagues distant from Seville, at the entrance of the bay of Cadiz, where +the yellow waters of the Guadalquivir unite with the brine. The steamer +shot from the little quay, or wharf, at about half-past nine, and then +arose a loud cry—it was the voices of those on board and on shore wishing +farewell to their friends. Amongst the tumult I thought I could +distinguish the accents of some friends of my own who had accompanied me +to the bank, and I instantly raised my own voice louder than all. The +night was very dark, so much so, indeed, that as we passed along we could +scarcely distinguish the trees which cover the eastern shore of the river +until it takes its first turn. A _calmazo_ had reigned during the day at +Seville, by which is meant exceedingly sultry weather, unenlivened by the +slightest breeze. The night likewise was calm and sultry. As I had +frequently made the voyage of the Guadalquivir, ascending and descending +this celebrated river, I felt nothing of that restlessness and curiosity +which people experience in a strange place, whether in light or darkness, +and being acquainted with none of the other passengers, who were talking +on the deck, I thought my best plan would be to retire to the cabin and +enjoy some rest, if possible. The cabin was solitary and tolerably cool, +all its windows on either side being open for the admission of air. +Flinging myself on one of the cushioned benches, I was soon asleep, in +which state I continued for about two hours, when I was aroused by the +furious biting of a thousand bugs, which compelled me to seek the deck, +where, wrapping myself in my cloak, I again fell asleep. It was near +daybreak when I awoke; we were then about two leagues from San Lucar. I +arose and looked towards the east, watching the gradual progress of dawn, +first the dull light, then the streak, then the tinge, then the bright +blush, till at last the golden disk of that orb which giveth day emerged +from the abyss of immensity, and in a moment the whole prospect was +covered with brightness and glory. The land smiled, the waters sparkled, +the birds sang, and men arose from their resting-places and rejoiced: for +it was day, and the sun was gone forth on the errand of its Creator, the +diffusion of light and gladness, and the dispelling of darkness and +sorrow. + + “Behold the morning sun + Begins his glorious way; + His beams through all the nations run, + And life and light convey. + + “But where the Gospel comes, + It spreads diviner light; + It calls dead sinners from their tombs, + And gives the blind their sight.” + +We now stopped before Bonanza: this is, properly speaking, the port of +San Lucar, although it is half a league distant from the latter place. +It is called Bonanza on account of its good anchorage, and its being +secured from the boisterous winds of the ocean; its literal meaning is +“fair weather.” {273} It consists of several large white buildings, +principally government store-houses, and is inhabited by the coastguard, +dependents on the custom-house, and a few fishermen. A boat came off to +receive those passengers whose destination was San Lucar, and to bring on +board about half a dozen who were bound for Cadiz: I entered with the +rest. A young Spaniard of very diminutive stature addressed some +questions to me in French as to what I thought of the scenery and climate +of Andalusia. I replied that I admired both, which evidently gave him +great pleasure. The boatman now came demanding two _reals_ for conveying +me on shore. I had no small money, and offered him a dollar to change. +He said that it was impossible. I asked him what was to be done: +whereupon he replied, uncivilly, that he knew not, but could not lose +time, and expected to be paid instantly. The young Spaniard, observing +my embarrassment, took out two _reals_ and paid the fellow. I thanked +him heartily for this act of civility, for which I felt really grateful; +as there are few situations more unpleasant than to be in a crowd in want +of change, whilst you are importuned by people for payment. A loose +character once told me that it was far preferable to be without money at +all, as you then knew what course to take. I subsequently met the young +Spaniard at Cadiz, and repaid him, with thanks. + +A few cabriolets were waiting near the wharf, in order to convey us to +San Lucar. I ascended one, and we proceeded slowly along the _playa_ or +strand. This place is famous in the ancient novels of Spain, of that +class called Picaresque, or those devoted to the adventures of notorious +scoundrels, the father of which, as also of others of the same kind, in +whatever language, is _Lazarillo de Tormes_. Cervantes himself has +immortalized this strand in the most amusing of his smaller tales, _La +Ilustre Fregona_. {274} In a word, the strand of San Lucar in ancient +times, if not in modern, was a rendezvous for ruffians, +_contrabandistas_, and vagabonds of every description, who nested there +in wooden sheds, which have now vanished. San Lucar itself was always +noted for the thievish propensities of its inhabitants—the worst in all +Andalusia. The roguish innkeeper in Don Quixote perfected his education +at San Lucar. All these recollections crowded into my mind as we +proceeded along the strand, which was beautifully gilded by the +Andalusian sun. We at last arrived nearly opposite to San Lucar, which +stands at some distance from the waterside. Here a lively spectacle +presented itself to us: the shore was covered with a multitude of females +either dressing or undressing themselves, while (I speak within bounds) +hundreds were in the water, sporting and playing: some were close by the +beach, stretched at their full length on the sand and pebbles, allowing +the little billows to dash over their heads and bosoms; whilst others +were swimming boldly out into the firth. There was a confused hubbub of +female cries, thin shrieks, and shrill laughter; couplets likewise were +being sung, on what subject it is easy to guess—for we were in sunny +Andalusia, and what can its black-eyed daughters think, speak, or sing of +but _amor_, _amor_, which now sounded from the land and the waters? +Further on along the beach we perceived likewise a crowd of men bathing; +we passed not by them, but turned to the left up an alley or avenue which +leads to San Lucar, and which may be a quarter of a mile long. The view +from hence was truly magnificent: before us lay the town, occupying the +side and top of a tolerably high hill, extending from east to west. It +appeared to be of considerable size; and I was subsequently informed that +it contained at least twenty thousand inhabitants. Several immense +edifices and walls towered up in a style of grandeur which can be but +feebly described by words; but the principal object was an ancient castle +towards the left. The houses were all white, and would have shone +brilliantly in the sun had it been higher; but at this early hour they +lay comparatively in shade. The _tout ensemble_ was very Moorish and +Oriental; and, indeed, in ancient times San Lucar was a celebrated +stronghold of the Moors, and, next to Almeria, the most frequented of the +commercial places in Spain. Everything, indeed, in these parts of +Andalusia is perfectly Oriental. Behold the heavens, as cloudless and as +brightly azure as those of Ind; the fiery sun which tans the fairest +cheek in a moment, and which fills the air with flickering flame; and oh! +remark the scenery and the vegetable productions. The alley up which we +were moving was planted on each side with that remarkable tree or plant, +for I know not which to call it, the giant aloe, which is called in +Spanish, _pita_, and in Moorish, _gurséan_. It rises here to a height +almost as magnificent as on the African shore. Need I say that the stem, +which springs up from the middle of the bush of green blades, which shoot +out from the root on all sides, is as high as a palm-tree; and need I say +that those blades, which are of an immense thickness at the root, are at +the tip sharper than the point of a spear, and would inflict a terrible +wound on any animal which might inadvertently rush against them? + +One of the first houses at San Lucar was the _posada_ at which we +stopped. It confronted, with some others, the avenue up which we had +come. As it was still early, I betook myself to rest for a few hours, at +the end of which time I went out to visit Mr. Phillipi, the British +vice-consul, who was already acquainted with me by name, as I had been +recommended to him in a letter from a relation of his at Seville. Mr. +Phillipi was at home in his counting-house, and received me with much +kindness and civility. I told him the motive of my visit to San Lucar, +and requested his assistance towards obtaining the books from the +custom-house, in order to transport them out of the country, as I was +very well acquainted with the difficulties which every one has to +encounter in Spain who has any business to transact with the government +authorities. He assured me that he should be most happy to assist me; +and, accordingly, despatched with me to the custom-house his head clerk, +a person well known and much respected at San Lucar. + +It may be as well here at once to give the history of these books, which +might otherwise tend to embarrass the narrative. They consisted of a +chest of Testaments in Spanish, and a small box of Saint Luke’s Gospel in +the _Gitano_ language of the Spanish gypsies. I obtained them from the +custom-house at San Lucar, with a pass for that of Cadiz. At Cadiz I was +occupied two days, and also a person whom I employed, in going through +all the formalities, and in procuring the necessary papers. The expense +was great, as money was demanded at every step I had to take, though I +was simply complying, in this instance, with the orders of the Spanish +government in removing prohibited books from Spain. The farce did not +end until my arrival at Gibraltar, where I paid the Spanish consul a +dollar for certifying on the back of the pass, which I had to return to +Cadiz, that the books were arrived at the former place. It is true that +he never saw the books, nor inquired about them; but he received the +money, for which he alone seemed to be anxious. + +Whilst at the custom-house of San Lucar I was asked one or two questions +respecting the books contained in the chests: this afforded me some +opportunity of speaking of the New Testament and the Bible Society. What +I said excited attention; and presently all the officers and dependents +of the house, great and small, were gathered around me, from the governor +to the porter. As it was necessary to open the boxes to inspect their +contents, we all proceeded to the courtyard, where, holding a Testament +in my hand, I recommenced my discourse. I scarcely know what I said; for +I was much agitated, and hurried away by my feelings, when I bethought me +of the manner in which the Word of God was persecuted in this unhappy +kingdom. My words evidently made impression, and to my astonishment +every person present pressed me for a copy. I sold several within the +walls of the custom-house. The object, however, of most attention was +the gypsy Gospel, which was minutely examined amidst smiles and +exclamations of surprise; an individual every now and then crying, +“_Cosas de los Ingleses_.” A bystander asked me whether I could speak +the _Gitano_ language. I replied that I could not only speak it, but +write it, and instantly made a speech of about five minutes in the gypsy +tongue, which I had no sooner concluded than all clapped their hands and +simultaneously shouted, “_Cosas de Inglaterra_,” “_Cosas de los +Ingleses_.” I disposed of several copies of the gypsy Gospel likewise, +and having now settled the business which had brought me to the +custom-house, I saluted my new friends and departed with my books. + +I now revisited Mr. Phillipi, who, upon learning that it was my intention +to proceed to Cadiz next morning by the steamer, which would touch at +Bonanza at four o’clock, despatched the chests and my little luggage to +the latter place, where he likewise advised me to sleep, in order that I +might be in readiness to embark at that early hour. He then introduced +me to his family, his wife an English woman, and his daughter an amiable +and beautiful girl of about eighteen years of age, whom I had previously +seen at Seville; three or four other ladies from Seville were likewise +there on a visit, and for the purpose of sea-bathing. After a few words +in English between the lady of the house and myself, we all commenced +chatting in Spanish, which seemed to be the only language understood or +cared for by the rest of the company; indeed, who would be so +unreasonable as to expect Spanish females to speak any language but their +own, which, flexible and harmonious as it is (far more so, I think, than +any other), seems at times quite inadequate to express the wild sallies +of their luxuriant imagination. Two hours fled rapidly away in +discourse, interrupted occasionally by music and song, when I bade +farewell to this delightful society, and strolled out to view the town. + +It was now past noon, and the heat was exceedingly fierce: I saw scarcely +a living being in the streets, the stones of which burnt my feet through +the soles of my boots. I passed through the square of the Constitution, +which presents nothing particular to the eye of the stranger, and +ascended the hill to obtain a nearer view of the castle. It is a strong +heavy edifice of stone, with round towers, and, though deserted, appears +to be still in a tolerable state of preservation. I became tired of +gazing, and was retracing my steps, when I was accosted by two gypsies, +who by some means had heard of my arrival. We exchanged some words in +_Gitano_, but they appeared to be very ignorant of the dialect, and +utterly unable to maintain a conversation in it. They were clamorous for +a _gabicote_, or book in the gypsy tongue. I refused it them, saying +that they could turn it to no profitable account; but finding that they +could read, I promised them each a Testament in Spanish. This offer, +however, they refused with disdain, saying that they cared for nothing +written in the language of the _Busné_ or Gentiles. They then persisted +in their demand, to which I at last yielded, being unable to resist their +importunity; whereupon they accompanied me to the inn, and received what +they so ardently desired. + +In the evening I was visited by Mr. Phillipi, who informed me that he had +ordered a cabriolet to call for me at the inn at eleven at night, for the +purpose of conveying me to Bonanza, and that a person there, who kept a +small wine-house, and to whom the chests and other things had been +forwarded, would receive me for the night, though it was probable that I +should have to sleep on the floor. We then walked to the beach, where +there were a great number of bathers, all men. Amongst them were some +good swimmers; two, in particular, were out at a great distance in the +firth of the Guadalquivir, I should say at least a mile; their heads +could just be descried with the telescope. I was told that they were +friars. I wondered at what period of their lives they had acquired their +dexterity at natation. I hoped it was not at a time when, according to +their vows, they should have lived for prayer, fasting, and mortification +alone. Swimming is a noble exercise, but it certainly does not tend to +mortify either the flesh or the spirit. As it was becoming dusk, we +returned to the town, when my friend bade me a kind farewell. I then +retired to my apartment, and passed some hours in meditation. + +It was night, ten o’clock;—eleven o’clock, and the cabriolet was at the +door. I got in, and we proceeded down the avenue and along the shore, +which was quite deserted. The waves sounded mournfully; everything +seemed to have changed since the morning. I even thought that the +horse’s feet sounded differently as it trotted slowly over the moist firm +sand. The driver, however, was by no means mournful, nor inclined to be +silent long: he soon commenced asking me an infinity of questions as to +whence I came and whither I was bound. Having given him what answers I +thought most proper, I, in return, asked him whether he was not afraid to +drive along that beach, which had always borne so bad a character, at so +unseasonable an hour. Whereupon he looked around him, and seeing no +person, he raised a shout of derision, and said that a fellow with his +whiskers feared not all the thieves that ever walked the _playa_, and +that no dozen men in San Lucar dare to waylay any traveller whom they +knew to be beneath his protection. He was a good specimen of the +Andalusian braggart. We soon saw a light or two shining dimly before us; +they proceeded from a few barks and small vessels stranded on the sand +close below Bonanza: amongst them I distinguished two or three dusky +figures. We were now at our journey’s end, and stopped before the door +of the place where I was to lodge for the night. The driver, +dismounting, knocked loud and long, until the door was opened by an +exceedingly stout man of about sixty years of age; he held a dim light in +his hand, and was dressed in a red nightcap and dirty striped shirt. He +admitted us, without a word, into a very large long room with a clay +floor. A species of counter stood on one side near the door; behind it +stood a barrel or two, and against the wall, on shelves, many bottles of +various sizes. The smell of liquors and wine was very powerful. I +settled with the driver and gave him a gratuity, whereupon he asked me +for something to drink to my safe journey. I told him he could call for +whatever he pleased: whereupon he demanded a glass of _aguardiente_, +which the master of the house, who had stationed himself behind the +counter, handed him without saying a word. The fellow drank it off at +once, but made a great many wry faces after having swallowed it, and, +coughing, said that he made no doubt it was good liquor, as it burnt his +throat terribly. He then embraced me, went out, mounted his cabriolet, +and drove off. + +The old man with the red nightcap now moved slowly to the door, which he +bolted and otherwise secured; he then drew forward two benches, which he +placed together, and pointed to them as if to intimate to me that there +was my bed: he then blew out the candle and retired deeper into the +apartment, where I heard him lay himself down sighing and snorting. +There was now no further light than what proceeded from a small earthen +pan on the floor, filled with water and oil, on which floated a small +piece of card with a lighted wick in the middle, which simple species of +lamp is called _mariposa_. {282} I now laid my carpet-bag on the bench +as a pillow, and flung myself down. I should have been asleep instantly, +but he of the red nightcap now commenced snoring awfully, which brought +to my mind that I had not yet commended myself to my Friend and Redeemer: +I therefore prayed, and then sank to repose. + +I was awakened more than once during the night by cats, and I believe +rats, leaping upon my body. At the last of these interruptions I arose, +and, approaching the _mariposa_, looked at my watch; it was half-past +three o’clock. I opened the door and looked out; whereupon some +fishermen entered, clamouring for their morning draught: the old man was +soon on his feet serving them. One of the men said to me, that if I was +going by the steamer, I had better order my things to the wharf without +delay, as he had heard the vessel coming down the river. I despatched my +luggage, and then demanded of the red nightcap what I owed him. He +replied, “_Un real_.” These were the only two words which I heard +proceed from his mouth: he was certainly addicted to silence, and perhaps +to philosophy, neither of which are much practised in Andalusia. I now +hurried to the wharf. The steamer was not yet arrived, but I heard its +thunder up the river every moment becoming more distinct: there were mist +and darkness upon the face of the waters, and I felt awe as I listened to +the approach of the invisible monster booming through the stillness of +the night. It came at last in sight, plashed its way forward, stopped, +and I was soon on board. It was the _Peninsula_, the best boat on the +Guadalquivir. + +What a wonderful production of art is a steamboat! and yet why should we +call it wonderful, if we consider its history? More than five hundred +years have elapsed since the idea of making one first originated; but it +was not until the close of the last century that the first, worthy of the +name, made its appearance on a Scottish river. + +During this long period of time, acute minds and skilful hands were +occasionally busied in attempting to remove those imperfections in the +machinery which alone prevented a vessel being made capable of propelling +itself against wind and tide. All these attempts were successively +abandoned in despair, yet scarcely one was made which was perfectly +fruitless; each inventor leaving behind him some monument of his labour, +of which those who succeeded him took advantage, until at last a +fortunate thought or two, and a few more perfect arrangements, were all +that were wanting. The time arrived, and now, at length, the very +Atlantic is crossed by haughty steamers. Much has been said of the +utility of steam in spreading abroad civilization, and I think justly. +When the first steam-vessels were seen on the Guadalquivir, about ten +years ago, the Sevillians ran to the banks of the river, crying “sorcery, +sorcery,” which idea was not a little favoured by the speculation being +an English one, and the boats, which were English built, being provided +with English engineers, as, indeed, they still are; no Spaniard having +been found capable of understanding the machinery. They soon, however, +became accustomed to them, and the boats are in general crowded with +passengers. Fanatic and vain as the Sevillians still are, and bigoted as +they remain to their own customs, they know that good, in one instance at +least, can proceed from a foreign land, and that land a land of heretics; +inveterate prejudice has been shaken, and we will hope that this is the +dawn of their civilization. + +Whilst passing over the bay of Cadiz, I was reclining on one of the +benches on the deck, when the captain walked by in company with another +man; they stopped a short distance from me, and I heard the captain ask +the other, in a low voice, how many languages he spoke; he replied, “Only +one.” “That one,” said the captain, “is of course the Christian;” by +which name the Spaniards style their own language, in contradistinction +to all others. “That fellow,” continued the captain, “who is lying on +the deck, can speak Christian too, when it serves his purpose, but he +speaks others, which are by no means Christian: he can talk English, and +I myself have heard him chatter in _Gitano_ with the gypsies of Triana; +he is now going amongst the Moors, and when he arrives in their country +you will hear him, should you be there, converse as fluently in their +gibberish as in _Cristiano_, nay, better, for he is no Christian himself. +He has been several times on board my vessel already, but I do not like +him, as I consider that he carries something about with him which is not +good.” + +This worthy person, on my coming aboard the boat, had shaken me by the +hand and expressed his joy at seeing me again. + + + + +CHAPTER LI. + + +Cadiz—The Fortifications—The Consul-General—Characteristic +Anecdote—Catalan Steamer—Trafalgar—Alonzo Guzman—Gibil Muza—Orestes +Frigate—The Hostile Lion—Works of the Creator—Lizard of the Rock—The +Concourse—Queen of the Waters—Broken Prayer. + +Cadiz stands, as is well known, upon a long narrow neck of land +stretching out into the ocean, from whose bosom the town appears to rise, +the salt waters laving its walls on all sides save the east, where a +sandy isthmus connects it with the coast of Spain. The town, as it +exists at the present day, is of modern construction, and very unlike any +other town which is to be found in the Peninsula, being built with great +regularity and symmetry. The streets are numerous, and intersect each +other, for the most part at right angles. They are very narrow in +comparison to the height of the houses, so that they are almost +impervious to the rays of the sun, except when at its midday altitude. +The principal street, however, is an exception, it being of some width. +This street, in which stands the Bolsa, or exchange, and which contains +the houses of the chief merchants and nobility, is the grand resort of +loungers as well as men of business during the early part of the day, and +in that respect resembles the Puerta del Sol at Madrid. It is connected +with the great square, which, though not of very considerable extent, has +many pretensions to magnificence, it being surrounded with large imposing +houses, and planted with fine trees, with marble seats below them for the +accommodation of the public. There are few public edifices worthy of +much attention: the chief church, indeed, might be considered a fine +monument of labour in some other countries; but in Spain, the land of +noble and gigantic cathedrals, it can be styled nothing more than a +decent place of worship; it is still in an unfinished state. There is a +public walk, or _alameda_, on the northern ramparts, which is generally +thronged in summer evenings: the green of its trees, when viewed from the +bay, affords an agreeable relief to the eye, dazzled with the glare of +the white buildings, for Cadiz is also a bright city. It was once the +wealthiest place in all Spain, but its prosperity has of late years sadly +diminished, and its inhabitants are continually lamenting its ruined +trade; on which account many are daily abandoning it for Seville, where +living at least is cheaper. There is still, however, much life and +bustle in the streets, which are adorned with many splendid shops, +several of which are in the style of Paris and London. The present +population is said to amount to eighty thousand souls. + +It is not without reason that Cadiz has been called a strong town: the +fortifications on the land side, which were partly the work of the French +during the sway of Napoleon, are perfectly admirable, and seem +impregnable: towards the sea it is defended as much by nature as by art, +water and sunken rocks being no contemptible bulwarks. The defences of +the town, however, except the landward ones, afford melancholy proofs of +Spanish apathy and neglect, even when allowance is made for the present +peculiarly unhappy circumstances of the country. Scarcely a gun, except +a few dismounted ones, is to be seen on the fortifications, which are +rapidly falling to decay, so that this insulated stronghold is at present +almost at the mercy of any foreign nation which, upon any pretence, or +none at all, should seek to tear it from the grasp of its present +legitimate possessors, and convert it into a foreign colony. + +A few hours after my arrival, I waited upon Mr. B---, {288} the British +consul-general at Cadiz. His house, which is the corner one at the +entrance of the _alameda_, commands a noble prospect of the bay, and is +very large and magnificent. I had, of course, long been acquainted with +Mr. B--- by reputation; I knew that for several years he had filled, with +advantage to his native country, and with honour to himself, the +distinguished and highly responsible situation which he holds in Spain. +I knew, likewise, that he was a good and pious Christian, and, moreover, +the firm and enlightened friend of the Bible Society. Of all this I was +aware, but I had never yet enjoyed the advantage of being personally +acquainted with him. I saw him now for the first time, and was much +struck with his appearance. He is a tall, athletic, finely built man, +seemingly about forty-five or fifty; there is much dignity in his +countenance, which is, however, softened by an expression of good humour +truly engaging. His manner is frank and affable in the extreme. I am +not going to enter into minute details of our interview, which was to me +a very interesting one. He knew already the leading parts of my history +since my arrival in Spain, and made several comments upon it, which +displayed his intimate knowledge of the situation of the country as +regards ecclesiastical matters, and the state of opinion respecting +religious innovation. + +I was pleased to find that his ideas in many points accorded with my own, +and we were both decidedly of opinion that, notwithstanding the great +persecution and outcry which had lately been raised against the Gospel, +the battle was by no means lost, and that the holy cause might yet +triumph in Spain, if zeal united with discretion and Christian humility +were displayed by those called upon to uphold it. + +During the greater part of this and the following day, I was much +occupied at the custom-house, endeavouring to obtain the documents +necessary for the exportation of the Testaments. On the afternoon of +Saturday I dined with Mr. B--- and his family—an interesting group—his +lady, his beautiful daughters, and his son, a fine intelligent young man. +Early the next morning a steamer, the _Balear_, was to quit Cadiz for +Marseilles, touching on the way at Algeziras, Gibraltar, and various +other ports of Spain. I had engaged my passage on board her as far as +Gibraltar, having nothing further to detain me at Cadiz; my business with +the custom-house having been brought at last to a termination, though I +believe I should never have got through it but for the kind assistance of +Mr. B---. I quitted this excellent man and my other charming friends at +a late hour with regret. I believe that I carried with me their very +best wishes; and, in whatever part of the world I, a poor wanderer in the +Gospel’s cause, may chance to be, I shall not unfrequently offer up +sincere prayers for their happiness and well-being. + +Before taking leave of Cadiz I shall relate an anecdote of the British +consul, characteristic of him and the happy manner in which he contrives +to execute the most disagreeable duties of his situation. I was in +conversation with him in a parlour of his house, when we were interrupted +by the entrance of two very unexpected visitors: they were the captain of +a Liverpool merchant-vessel and one of the crew. The latter was a rough +sailor, a Welshman, who could only express himself in very imperfect +English. They looked unutterable dislike and defiance at each other. It +appeared that the latter had refused to work, and insisted on leaving the +ship, and his master had in consequence brought him before the consul, in +order that, if he persisted, the consequences might be detailed to him, +which would be the forfeiture of his wages and clothes. This was done; +but the fellow became more and more dogged, refusing ever to tread the +same deck again with his captain, who, he said, had called him “Greek, +lazy lubberly Greek,” which he would not bear. The word Greek rankled in +the sailor’s mind, and stung him to the very core. Mr. B---, who seemed +to be perfectly acquainted with the character of Welshmen in general—who +are proverbially obstinate when opposition is offered to them—and who saw +at once that the dispute had arisen on foolish and trivial grounds, now +told the man, with a smile, that he would inform him of a way by which he +might gain the weather-gage of every one of them, consul, and captain, +and all, and secure his wages and clothes; which was by merely going on +board a brig-of-war of her Majesty, which was then lying in the bay. The +fellow said he was aware of this, and intended to do so. His grim +features, however, instantly relaxed in some degree, and he looked more +humanely upon his captain. Mr. B--- then, addressing himself to the +latter, made some observations on the impropriety of using the word Greek +to a British sailor: not forgetting at the same time to speak of the +absolute necessity of obedience and discipline on board every ship. His +words produced such an effect, that in a very little time the sailor held +out his hand towards his captain, and expressed his willingness to go on +board with him and perform his duty, adding, that the captain, upon the +whole, was the best man in the world. So they departed mutually pleased; +the consul making both of them promise to attend divine service at his +house on the following day. + +Sunday morning came, and I was on board the steamer by six o’clock. As I +ascended the side, the harsh sound of the Catalan dialect assailed my +ears. In fact, the vessel was Catalan built, and the captain and crew +were of that nation; the greater part of the passengers already on board, +or who subsequently arrived, appeared to be Catalans, and seemed to vie +with each other in producing disagreeable sounds. A burly merchant, +however, with a red face, peaked chin, sharp eyes, and hooked nose, +clearly bore off the palm; he conversed with astonishing eagerness on +seemingly the most indifferent subjects, or rather on no subject at all; +his voice would have sounded exactly like a coffee-mill but for a vile +nasal twang: he poured forth his Catalan incessantly till we arrived at +Gibraltar. Such people are never sea-sick, though they frequently +produce or aggravate the malady in others. We did not get under way +until past eight o’clock, for we waited for the Governor of Algeziras, +and started instantly on his coming on board. He was a tall, thin, rigid +figure of about seventy, with a long, grave, wrinkled countenance; in a +word, the very image of an old Spanish grandee. We stood out of the bay, +rounding the lofty lighthouse, which stands on a ledge of rocks, and then +bent our course to the south, in the direction of the Straits. It was a +glorious morning, a blue sunny sky and blue sunny ocean; or rather, as my +friend Oehlenschlæger {292a} has observed on a similar occasion, there +appeared two skies and two suns, one above and one below. + +Our progress was rather slow, notwithstanding the fineness of the +weather, probably owing to the tide being against us. In about two hours +we passed the Castle of Santa Petra, and at noon were in sight of +Trafalgar. The wind now freshened, and was dead ahead; on which account +we hugged closely to the coast, in order to avoid as much as possible the +strong heavy sea which was pouring down from the Straits. We passed +within a very short distance of the Cape, a bold bluff foreland, but not +of any considerable height. + +It is impossible for an Englishman to pass by this place—the scene of the +most celebrated naval action on record—without emotion. Here it was that +the united navies of France and Spain were annihilated by a far inferior +force; but that force was British, and was directed by one of the most +remarkable men of the age, and perhaps the greatest hero of any time. +{292b} Huge fragments of wreck still frequently emerge from the watery +gulf whose billows chafe the rocky sides of Trafalgar: they are relics of +the enormous ships which were burnt and sunk on that terrible day, when +the heroic champion of Britain concluded his work and died. I never +heard but one individual venture to say a word in disparagement of +Nelson’s glory: it was a pert American, {293a} who observed, that the +British admiral was much overrated. “Can that individual be overrated,” +replied a stranger, “whose every thought was bent on his country’s +honour, who scarcely ever fought without leaving a piece of his body in +the fray, and who, not to speak of minor triumphs, was victorious, in two +such actions as Aboukir and Trafalgar?” + +We were now soon in sight of the Moorish coast, Cape Spartel appearing +dimly through mist and vapour on our right. A regular Levanter {293b} +had now come on, and the vessel pitched and tossed to a very considerable +degree. Most of the passengers were seasick; the governor, however, and +myself held out manfully: we sat on a bench together, and entered into +conversation respecting the Moors and their country. Torquemada himself +could not have spoken of both with more abhorrence. He informed me that +he had been frequently in several of the principal Moorish towns of the +coast, which he described as heaps of ruins: the Moors themselves he +called _Caffres_ {293c} and wild beasts. He observed that he had never +been even at Tangier, where the people were most civilized, without +experiencing some insult, so great was the abhorrence of the Moors to +anything in the shape of a Christian. He added, however, that they +treated the English with comparative civility, and that they had a saying +among them to the effect that Englishman and Mahometan were one and the +same: he then looked particularly grave for a moment, and, crossing +himself, was silent. I guessed what was passing in his mind:— + + “From heretic boors, + And Turkish Moors, + Star of the sea, + Gentle Marie, + Deliver me!” + +At about three we were passing Tarifa, so frequently mentioned in the +history of Moors and Christians. Who has not heard of Alonzo Guzman the +Faithful, {294} who allowed his only son to be crucified before the walls +of the town rather than submit to the ignominy of delivering up the keys +to the Moorish monarch, who, with a host which is said to have amounted +to nearly half a million of men, had landed on the shores of Andalusia, +and threatened to bring all Spain once more beneath the Moslem yoke? +Certainly if there be a land and a spot where the name of that good +patriot is not sometimes mentioned and sung, that land, that spot, is +modern Spain and modern Tarifa. I have heard the ballad of Alonzo Guzman +chanted in Danish, by a hind in the wilds of Jutland; but once speaking +of “the Faithful” to some inhabitants of Tarifa, they replied that they +had never heard of Guzman the Faithful of Tarifa, but were acquainted +with Alonzo Guzman, _el tuerto_, and that he was one of the most +villanous _arrieros_ on the Cadiz road. + +The voyage of these narrow seas can scarcely fail to be interesting to +the most apathetic individual, from the nature of the scenery which +presents itself to the eye on either side. The coasts are exceedingly +high and bold, especially that of Spain, which seems to overcrow the +Moorish; but opposite to Tarifa, the African continent, rounding towards +the south-west, assumes an air of sublimity and grandeur. A hoary +mountain is seen uplifting its summits above the clouds: it is Mount +Abyla, or, as it is called in the Moorish tongue, Gibil Muza, or the hill +of Muza, from the circumstance of its containing the sepulchre of a +prophet of that name. {295} This is one of the two excrescences of +nature on which the Old World bestowed the title of the Pillars of +Hercules. Its skirts and sides occupy the Moorish coast for many leagues +in more than one direction, but the broad aspect of its steep and +stupendous front is turned full towards that part of the European +continent where Gibraltar lies like a huge monster stretching far into +the brine. Of the two hills, or pillars, the most remarkable, when +viewed from afar, is the African one, Gibil Muza. It is the tallest and +bulkiest, and is visible at a greater distance; but scan them both from +near, and you feel that all your wonder is engrossed by the European +column. Gibil Muza is an immense shapeless mass, a wilderness of rocks, +with here and there a few trees and shrubs nodding from the clefts of its +precipices; it is uninhabited, save by wolves, wild swine, and chattering +monkeys, on which last account it is called by the Spaniards, _Montaña de +las Monas_, {296a} whilst, on the contrary, Gibraltar, not to speak of +the strange city which covers part of it, a city inhabited by men of all +nations and tongues, its batteries and excavations, all of them miracles +of art, is the most singular-looking mountain in the world—a mountain +which can neither be described by pen nor pencil, and at which the eye is +never satiated with gazing. + +It was near sunset, and we were crossing the bay of Gibraltar. We had +stopped at Algeziras, on the Spanish side, for the purpose of landing the +old governor and his suite, and delivering and receiving letters. + +Algeziras is an ancient Moorish town, as the name denotes, which is an +Arabic word, and signifies “the place of the islands.” {296b} It is +situated at the water’s edge, with a lofty range of mountains in the +rear. It seemed a sad deserted place, as far as I could judge at the +distance of half a mile. In the harbour, however, lay a Spanish frigate +and French war brig. As we passed the former, some of the Spaniards on +board our steamer became boastful at the expense of the English. It +appeared that, a few weeks before, an English vessel, suspected to be a +contraband trader, was seen by this frigate hovering about a bay on the +Andalusian coast, in company with an English frigate, the _Orestes_. The +Spaniard dogged them for some time, till one morning, observing that the +_Orestes_ had disappeared, he hoisted English colours, and made a signal +to the trader to bear down; the latter, deceived by the British ensign, +and supposing that the Spaniard was the friendly _Orestes_, instantly +drew near, was fired at and boarded, and, proving in effect to be a +contraband trader, she was carried into port and delivered over to the +Spanish authorities. In a few days the captain of the _Orestes_ hearing +of this, and incensed at the unwarrantable use made of the British flag, +sent a boat on board the frigate, demanding that the vessel should be +instantly restored, as, if she was not, he would retake her by force; +adding, that he had forty cannons on board. The captain of the Spanish +frigate returned for answer, that the trader was in the hands of the +officers of the customs, and was no longer at his disposal; that the +captain of the _Orestes_, however, could do what he pleased, and that if +he had forty guns, he himself had forty-four; whereupon the _Orestes_ +thought proper to bear away. Such at least was the Spanish account, as +related by the journals. Observing the Spaniards to be in great glee at +the idea of one of their nation having frightened away the Englishman, I +exclaimed, “Gentlemen, all of you who suppose that an English sea-captain +has been deterred from attacking a Spaniard, from an apprehension of a +superior force of four guns, remember, if you please, the fate of the +_Santísima Trinidad_, and be pleased also not to forget that we are +almost within cannon’s sound of Trafalgar.” + +It was near sunset, I repeat, and we were crossing the bay of Gibraltar. +I stood on the prow of the vessel, with my eyes intently fixed on the +mountain fortress, which, though I had seen it several times before, +filled my mind with admiration and interest. Viewed from this situation, +it certainly, if it resembles any animate object in nature, has something +of the appearance of a terrible couchant lion, whose stupendous head +menaces Spain. Had I been dreaming, I should almost have concluded it to +be the genius of Africa, in the shape of its most puissant monster, who +had bounded over the sea from the clime of sand and sun, bent on the +destruction of the rival continent, more especially as the hue of its +stony sides, its crest and chine, is tawny even as that of the hide of +the desert king. A hostile lion has it almost invariably proved to +Spain, at least since it first began to play a part in history, which was +at the time when Tarik seized and fortified it. {298} It has for the +most part been in the hands of foreigners: first the swarthy and turbaned +Moor possessed it, and it is now tenanted by a fair-haired race from a +distant isle. Though a part of Spain, it seems to disavow the connexion, +and at the end of a long narrow sandy isthmus, almost level with the sea, +raising its blasted and perpendicular brow to denounce the crimes which +deformed the history of that fair and majestic land. + +It was near sunset, I say it for the third time, and we were crossing the +bay of Gibraltar. Bay! it seemed no bay, but an inland sea, surrounded +on all sides by enchanted barriers, so strange, so wonderful was the +aspect of its coasts. Before us lay the impregnable hill; on our right +the African continent, with its grey Gibil Muza, and the crag of Ceuta, +to which last a solitary bark seemed steering its way; behind us the town +we had just quitted, with its mountain wall; on our left the coast of +Spain. The surface of the water was unruffled by a wave, and as we +rapidly glided on, the strange object which we were approaching became +momentarily more distinct and visible. There, at the base of the +mountain, and covering a small portion of its side, lay the city, with +its ramparts garnished with black guns, pointing significantly at its +moles and harbours; above, seemingly on every crag which could be made +available for the purpose of defence or destruction, peered batteries, +pale and sepulchral looking, as if ominous of the fate which awaited any +intrusive foe; whilst east and west towards Africa and Spain, on the +extreme points, rose castles, towers, or _atalayas_, which overcrowed the +whole, and all the circumjacent region, whether land or sea. Mighty and +threatening appeared the fortifications, and doubtless, viewed in any +other situation, would have alone occupied the mind and engrossed its +wonder; but the hill, the wondrous hill was everywhere about them, +beneath them, or above them, overpowering their effect as a spectacle. +Who, when he beholds the enormous elephant, with his brandished trunk, +dashing impetuously to the war, sees the castle which he bears, or fears +the javelins of those whom he carries, however skilful and warlike they +may be? Never does God appear so great and powerful as when the works of +his hands stand in contrast with the labours of man. Survey the +Escurial; it is a proud work, but wonder if you can when you see the +mountain mocking it behind; survey that boast of Moorish kings, survey +Granada from its plain, and wonder if you can, for you see the Alpujarras +mocking it from behind. Oh, what are the works of man compared with +those of the Lord? Even as man is compared with his Creator. Man builds +pyramids, and God builds pyramids; the pyramids of man are heaps of +shingles, tiny hillocks on a sandy plain; the pyramids of the Lord are +Andes and Indian hills. Man builds walls, and so does his Master; but +the walls of God are the black precipices of Gibraltar and Horneel, +eternal, indestructible, and not to be scaled; whilst those of man can be +climbed, can be broken by the wave, or shattered by the lightning or the +powder blast. Would man display his power and grandeur to advantage, let +him flee far from the hills; for the broad pennants of God, even his +clouds, float upon the tops of the hills, and the majesty of God is most +manifest among the hills. Call Gibraltar the hill of Tarik or Hercules, +if you will; but gaze upon it for a moment, and you will call it the hill +of God. Tarik and the old giant may have built upon it; but not all the +dark race of whom Tarik was one, nor all the giants of old renown of whom +the other was one, could have built up its crags or chiselled the +enormous mass to its present shape. + +We dropped anchor not far from the Mole. As we expected every moment to +hear the evening gun, after which no person is permitted to enter the +town, I was in trepidation lest I should be obliged to pass the night on +board the dirty Catalan steamer, which, as I had no occasion to proceed +further in her, I was in great haste to quit. A boat now drew nigh, with +two individuals at the stern, one of whom, standing up, demanded, in an +authoritative voice, the name of the vessel, her destination, and cargo. +Upon being answered, they came on board. After some conversation with +the captain, they were about to depart, when I inquired whether I could +accompany them on shore. The person I addressed was a tall young man, +with a fustian frock-coat. He had a long face, long nose, and wide +mouth, with large restless eyes. There was a grin on his countenance +which seemed permanent, and, had it not been for his bronzed complexion, +I should have declared him to be a cockney, and nothing else. He was, +however, no such thing, but what is called “a rock lizard,” {301} that +is, a person born at Gibraltar of English parents. Upon hearing my +question, which was in Spanish, he grinned more than ever, and inquired, +in a strange accent, whether I was a son of Gibraltar. I replied that I +had not that honour, but that I was a British subject. Whereupon he said +that he should make no difficulty in taking me ashore. We entered the +boat, which was rapidly rowed toward the land by four Genoese sailors. +My two companions chattered in their strange Spanish, he of the fustian +occasionally turning his countenance full upon me, the last grin +appearing even more hideous than the preceding ones. We soon reached the +quay, where my name was noted down by a person who demanded my passport, +and I was then permitted to advance. + +It was now dusk, and I lost no time in crossing the drawbridge and +entering the long low archway which, passing under the rampart, +communicates with the town. Beneath this archway paced, with measured +tread, tall red-coated sentinels with shouldered guns. There was no +stopping, no sauntering in these men. There was no laughter, no exchange +of light conversation with the passers-by, but their bearing was that of +British soldiers, conscious of the duties of their station. What a +difference between them and the listless loiterers who stand at guard at +the gate of a Spanish garrisoned town! + +I now proceeded up the principal street, which runs with a gentle ascent +along the base of the hill. Accustomed for some months past to the +melancholy silence of Seville, I was almost deafened by the noise and +bustle which reigned around. It was Sunday night, and of course no +business was going on, but there were throngs of people passing up and +down. Here was a military guard proceeding along; here walked a group of +officers, there a knot of soldiers stood talking and laughing. The +greater part of the civilians appeared to be Spaniards, but there was a +large sprinkling of Jews in the dress of those of Barbary, and here and +there a turbaned Moor. There were gangs of sailors likewise, Genoese, +judging from the patois which they were speaking, though I occasionally +distinguished the sound of _tou logou sas_, {302} by which I knew there +were Greeks at hand, and twice or thrice caught a glimpse of the red cap +and blue silken petticoats of the mariner from the Romaic isles. On +still I hurried, till I arrived at a well-known hostelry, close by a kind +of square, in which stands the little exchange of Gibraltar. Into this I +ran and demanded lodging, receiving a cheerful welcome from the genius of +the place, who stood behind the bar, and whom I shall perhaps have +occasion subsequently to describe. All the lower rooms were filled with +men of the rock, burly men in general, with swarthy complexions and +English features, with white hats, white jean jerkins, and white jean +pantaloons. They were smoking pipes and cigars, and drinking porter, +wine, and various other fluids, and conversing in the rock Spanish, or +rock English, as the fit took them. Dense was the smoke of tobacco, and +great the din of voices, and I was glad to hasten upstairs to an +unoccupied apartment, where I was served with some refreshment, of which +I stood much in need. + +I was soon disturbed by the sound of martial music close below my +windows. I went down and stood at the door. A military band was +marshalled upon the little square before the exchange. It was preparing +to beat the retreat. After the prelude, which was admirably executed, +the tall leader gave a flourish with his stick, and strode forward up the +street, followed by the whole company of noble-looking fellows and a +crowd of admiring listeners. The cymbals clashed, the horns screamed, +and the kettle-drum emitted its deep awful note, till the old rock echoed +again, and the hanging terraces of the town rang with the stirring noise— + + “Dub-a-dub, dub-a-dub—thus go the drums, + Tantara, tantara, the Englishman comes.” + +O England! long, long may it be ere the sun of thy glory sink beneath the +wave of darkness! Though gloomy and portentous clouds are now gathering +rapidly around thee, still, still may it please the Almighty to disperse +them, and to grant thee a futurity longer in duration, and still brighter +in renown, than thy past! Or if thy doom be at hand, may that doom be a +noble one, and worthy of her who has been styled the Old Queen of the +waters! May thou sink, if thou dost sink, amidst blood and flame, with a +mighty noise, causing more than one nation to participate in thy +downfall! Of all fates, may it please the Lord to preserve thee from a +disgraceful and a slow decay; becoming, ere extinct, a scorn and a +mockery for those selfsame foes who now, though they envy and abhor thee, +still fear thee, nay, even against their will, honour and respect thee! + +Arouse thee, whilst yet there is time, and prepare thee for the combat of +life and death! Cast from thee the foul scurf which now encrusts thy +robust limbs, which deadens their force, and makes them heavy and +powerless! Cast from thee thy false philosophers, who would fain decry +what, next to the love of God, has hitherto been deemed most sacred, the +love of the mother land! Cast from thee thy false patriots, who, under +the pretext of redressing the wrongs of the poor and weak, seek to +promote internal discord, so that thou mayest become only terrible to +thyself! And remove from thee the false prophets, who have seen vanity +and divined lies; who have daubed thy wall with untempered mortar, that +it may fall; who see visions of peace where there is no peace; who have +strengthened the hands of the wicked, and made the heart of the righteous +sad. Oh, do this, and fear not the result; for either shall thy end be a +majestic and an enviable one, or God shall perpetuate thy reign upon the +waters, thou Old Queen! + +The above was part of a broken prayer for my native land, which, after my +usual thanksgiving, I breathed to the Almighty ere retiring to rest that +Sunday night at Gibraltar. + + + + +CHAPTER LII. + + +The Jolly Hosteler—Aspirants for Glory—A Portrait—Hamáles—Solomons—An +Expedition—The Yeoman Soldier—The Excavations—The Pull by the Skirt—Judah +and his Father—Judah’s Pilgrimage—The Bushy Beard—The False Moors—Judah +and the King’s Son—Premature Old Age. + +Perhaps it would have been impossible to have chosen a situation more +adapted for studying at my ease Gibraltar and its inhabitants, than that +which I found myself occupying about ten o’clock on the following +morning. Seated on a small bench just opposite the bar, close by the +door, in the passage of the hostelry at which I had taken up my temporary +abode, I enjoyed a view of the square of the exchange and all that was +going on there, and, by merely raising my eyes, could gaze at my leisure +on the stupendous hill which towers above the town to an altitude of some +thousand feet. I could likewise observe every person who entered or left +the house, which is one of great resort, being situated in the most +frequented place of the principal thoroughfare of the town. My eyes were +busy, and so were my ears. Close beside me stood my excellent friend +Griffiths, the jolly hosteler, of whom I take the present opportunity of +saying a few words, though I dare say he has been frequently described +before, and by far better pens. Let those who know him not figure to +themselves a man of about fifty, at least six feet in height, and +weighing some eighteen stone, an exceedingly florid countenance and good +features, eyes full of quickness and shrewdness, but at the same time +beaming with good nature. He wears white pantaloons, white frock, and +white hat, and is, indeed, all white, with the exception of his polished +Wellingtons and rubicund face. He carries a whip beneath his arm, which +adds wonderfully to the knowingness of his appearance, which is rather +more that of a gentleman who keeps an inn on the Newmarket road, “purely +for the love of travellers, and the money which they carry about them,” +than of a native of the rock. Nevertheless, he will tell you himself +that he is a rock lizard; and you will scarcely doubt it when, besides +his English, which is broad and vernacular, you hear him speak Spanish, +ay, and Genoese too, when necessary, and it is no child’s play to speak +the latter, which I myself could never master. He is a good judge of +horseflesh, and occasionally sells a “bit of a blood,” or a Barbary +steed, to a young hand, though he has no objection to do business with an +old one; for there is not a thin, crouching, liver-faced, lynx-eyed Jew +of Fez capable of outwitting him in a bargain, or cheating him out of one +single pound of the fifty thousand sterling which he possesses; and yet +ever bear in mind that he is a good-natured fellow to those who are +disposed to behave honourably to him, and know likewise that he will lend +you money, if you are a gentleman, and are in need of it; but depend upon +it, if he refuse you, there is something not altogether right about you, +for Griffiths knows _his world_, and is not to be made a fool of. + +There was a prodigious quantity of porter consumed in my presence during +the short hour that I sat on the bench of that hostelry of the rock. The +passage before the bar was frequently filled with officers, who lounged +in for a refreshment which the sultry heat of the weather rendered +necessary, or at least inviting; whilst not a few came galloping up to +the door on small Barbary horses, which are to be found in great +abundance at Gibraltar. All seemed to be on the best of terms with the +host, with whom they occasionally discussed the merits of particular +steeds, and whose jokes they invariably received with unbounded +approbation. There was much in the demeanour and appearance of these +young men, for the greater part were quite young, which was highly +interesting and agreeable. Indeed, I believe it may be said of English +officers in general, that in personal appearance, and in polished +manners, they bear the palm from those of the same class over the world. +True it is, that the officers of the royal guard of Russia, especially of +the three noble regiments styled the _Priberjensky_, _Simeonsky_, and +_Finlansky polks_, {307} might fearlessly enter into competition in +almost all points with the flower of the British army; but it must be +remembered, that those regiments are officered by the choicest specimens +of the Sclavonian nobility, young men selected expressly for the +splendour of their persons, and for the superiority of their mental +endowments; whilst, probably, amongst all the fair-haired Anglo-Saxon +youths whom I now saw gathered near me, there was not a single one of +noble ancestry, nor of proud and haughty name; and certainly, so far from +having been selected to flatter the pride and add to the pomp of a +despot, they had been taken indiscriminately from a mass of ardent +aspirants for military glory, and sent on their country’s service to a +remote and unhealthy colony. Nevertheless, they were such as their +country might be proud of, for gallant boys they looked, with courage on +their brows, beauty and health on their cheeks, and intelligence in their +hazel eyes. + +Who is he who now stops before the door without entering, and addresses a +question to my host, who advances with a respectful salute? He is no +common man, or his appearance belies him strangely. His dress is simple +enough; a Spanish hat, with a peaked crown and broad shadowy brim—the +veritable _sombrero_—jean pantaloons and blue hussar jacket;—but how well +that dress becomes one of the most noble-looking figures I ever beheld! +I gazed upon him with strange respect and admiration as he stood +benignantly smiling and joking in good Spanish with an impudent rock +rascal, who held in his hand a huge _bogamante_, or coarse carrion +lobster, which he would fain have persuaded him to purchase. He was +almost gigantically tall, towering nearly three inches above the burly +host himself, yet athletically symmetrical, and straight as the pine-tree +of Dovrefeld. He must have counted eleven lustres, which cast an air of +mature dignity over a countenance which seemed to have been chiselled by +some Grecian sculptor, and yet his hair was black as the plume of the +Norwegian raven, and so was the moustache which curled above his +well-formed lip. In the garb of Greece, and in the camp before Troy, I +should have taken him for Agamemnon. “Is that man a general?” said I to +a short queer-looking personage, who sat by my side, intently studying a +newspaper. “That gentleman,” he whispered in a lisping accent, “is, sir, +the Lieutenant-Governor of Gibraltar.” {309} + +On either side outside the door, squatting on the ground, or leaning +indolently against the walls, were some half-dozen men of very singular +appearance. Their principal garment was a kind of blue gown, something +resembling the blouse worn by the peasants of the north of France, but +not so long; it was compressed around their waists by a leathern girdle, +and depended about halfway down their thighs. Their legs were bare, so +that I had an opportunity of observing the calves, which appeared +unnaturally large. Upon the head they wore small skull-caps of black +wool. I asked the most athletic of these men, a dark-visaged fellow of +forty, who they were. He answered, _humáles_. This word I knew to be +Arabic, in which tongue it signifies a porter; and, indeed, the next +moment, I saw a similar fellow staggering across the square under an +immense burden, almost sufficient to have broken the back of a camel. On +again addressing my swarthy friend, and inquiring whence he came, he +replied, that he was born at Mogadore, in Barbary, but had passed the +greatest part of his life at Gibraltar. He added, that he was the +_capataz_, or head man, of the _hamáles_ near the door. I now addressed +him in the Arabic of the East, though with scarcely the hope of being +understood, more especially as he had been so long from his own country. +He, however, answered very pertinently, his lips quivering with eagerness +and his eyes sparkling with joy, though it was easy to perceive that the +Arabic, or rather the Moorish, was not the language in which he was +accustomed either to think or speak. His companions all gathered round +and listened with avidity, occasionally exclaiming, when anything was +said which they approved of: “_Wakhud rajil shereef hada_, _min beled del +scharki_.” {310} At last I produced the shekel, which I invariably carry +about me as a pocket-piece, and asked the _capataz_ whether he had ever +seen that money before. He surveyed the censer and olive-branch for a +considerable time, and evidently knew not what to make of it. At length +he fell to inspecting the characters round about it on both sides, and +giving a cry, exclaimed to the other _hamáles_: “Brothers, brothers, +these are the letters of Solomon. This silver is blessed. We must kiss +this money.” He then put it upon his head, pressed it to his eyes, and +finally kissed it with enthusiasm, as did successively all his brethren. +Then regaining it, he returned it to me, with a low reverence. Griffiths +subsequently informed me that the fellow refused to work during all the +rest of the day, and did nothing but smile, laugh, and talk to himself. + +“Allow me to offer you a glass of bitters, sir,” said the queer-looking +personage before mentioned; he was a corpulent man, very short, and his +legs particularly so. His dress consisted of a greasy snuff-coloured +coat, dirty white trousers, and dirtier stockings. On his head he wore a +rusty silk hat, the eaves of which had a tendency to turn up before and +behind. I had observed that, during my conversation with the _hamáles_, +he had several times uplifted his eyes from the newspaper, and on the +production of the shekel had grinned very significantly, and had +inspected it when in the hand of the _capataz_. “Allow me to offer you a +glass of bitters,” said he; “I guessed you was one of our people before +you spoke to the _hamáles_. Sir, it does my heart good to see a +gentleman of your appearance not above speaking to his poor brethren. It +is what I do myself not unfrequently, and I hope God will blot out my +name, and that is Solomons, when I despise them. I do not pretend to +much Arabic myself, yet I understood you tolerably well, and I liked your +discourse much. You must have a great deal of _shillam eidri_, +nevertheless you startled me when you asked the _hamál_ if he ever read +the _Torah_; of course you meant with the _meforshim_; poor as he is, I +do not believe him _becoresh_ enough to read the _Torah_ without the +commentators. So help me, sir, I believe you to be a Salamancan Jew; I +am told there are still some of the old families to be found there. Ever +at Tudela, sir? not very far from Salamanca, I believe; one of my own +kindred once lived there: a great traveller, sir, like yourself; went +over all the world to look for the Jews—went to the top of Sinai. +Anything that I can do for you at Gibraltar, sir? Any commission? will +execute it as reasonably, and more expeditiously than any one else. My +name is Solomons. I am tolerably well known at Gibraltar; yes, sir, and +in the Crooked Friars, and, for that matter, in the Neuen Stein Steg, +{311} at Hamburg; so help me, sir, I think I once saw your face at the +fair at Bremen. Speak German, sir? though of course you do. Allow me, +sir, to offer you a glass of bitters. I wish, sir, they were _mayim +hayim_ {312a} for your sake, I do indeed, sir, I wish they were living +waters. Now, sir, do give me your opinion as to this matter (lowering +his voice and striking the newspaper). Do you not think it is very hard +that one _Yudken_ should betray the other? When I put my little secret +_beyad peluni_ {312b}—you understand me, sir? when I entrust my poor +secret to the custody of an individual, and that individual a Jew, a +_Yudken_, sir, I do not wish to be blown, indeed, I do not expect it. In +a word, what do you think of the _gold dust robbery_, and what will be +done to those unfortunate people, who I see are convicted?” + +That same day I made inquiry respecting the means of transferring myself +to Tangier, having no wish to prolong my stay at Gibraltar, where, though +it is an exceedingly interesting place to an observant traveller, I had +no particular business to detain me. In the evening I was visited by a +Jew, a native of Barbary, who informed me that he was secretary to the +master of a small Genoese bark which plied between Tangier and Gibraltar. +Upon his assuring me that the vessel would infallibly start for the +former place on the following evening, I agreed with him for my passage. +He said that as the wind was blowing from the Levant quarter, the voyage +would be a speedy one. Being desirous now of disposing to the most +advantage of the short time which I expected to remain at Gibraltar, I +determined upon visiting the excavations, which I had as yet never seen, +on the following morning, and accordingly sent for, and easily obtained, +the necessary permission. + +About six on Tuesday morning, I started on this expedition, attended by a +very intelligent good-looking lad of the Jewish persuasion, one of two +brothers who officiated at the inn in the capacity of _valets de place_. + +The morning was dim and hazy, yet sultry to a degree. We ascended a +precipitous street, and, proceeding in an easterly direction, soon +arrived in the vicinity of what is generally known by the name of the +Moorish Castle, a large tower, but so battered by the cannon balls +discharged against it in the famous siege, that it is at present little +better than a ruin. Hundreds of round holes are to be seen in its sides, +in which, as it is said, the shot are still embedded. Here, at a species +of hut, we were joined by an artillery sergeant, who was to be our guide. +After saluting us, he led the way to a huge rock, where he unlocked a +gate at the entrance of a dark vaulted passage which passed under it, +emerging from which passage we found ourselves in a steep path, or rather +staircase, with walls on either side. + +We proceeded very leisurely, for hurry in such a situation would have +been of little avail, as we should have lost our breath in a minute’s +time. The soldier, perfectly well acquainted with the locality, stalked +along with measured steps, his eyes turned to the ground. + +I looked fully as much at that man as at the strange place where we now +were, and which was every moment becoming stranger. He was a fine +specimen of the yeoman turned soldier; indeed, the corps to which he +belonged consists almost entirely of that class. There he paces along, +tall, strong, ruddy, and chestnut-haired, an Englishman every inch; +behold him pacing along, sober, silent, and civil, a genuine English +soldier. I prize the sturdy Scot, I love the daring and impetuous +Irishman; I admire all the various races which constitute the population +of the British isles; yet I must say that, upon the whole, none are so +well adapted to ply the soldier’s hardy trade as the rural sons of old +England, so strong, so cool, yet, at the same time, animated with so much +hidden fire. Turn to the history of England and you will at once +perceive of what such men are capable: even at Hastings, in the grey old +time, under almost every disadvantage, weakened by a recent and terrible +conflict, without discipline, comparatively speaking, and uncouthly +armed, they all but vanquished the Norman chivalry. Trace their deeds in +France, which they twice subdued; and even follow them to Spain, where +they twanged the yew and raised the battle-axe, and left behind them a +name of glory at Ingles Mendi, {314} a name that shall last till fire +consumes the Cantabrian hills. And, oh, in modern times, trace the deeds +of these gallant men all over the world, and especially in France and +Spain, and admire them, even as I did that sober, silent, soldier-like +man who was showing me the wonders of a foreign mountain fortress, +wrested by his countrymen from a powerful and proud nation more than a +century before, and of which he was now a trusty and efficient guardian. + +We arrived close to the stupendous precipice, which rises abruptly above +the isthmus called the neutral ground, staring gauntly and horridly at +Spain, and immediately entered the excavations. They consist of +galleries scooped in the living rock at the distance of some twelve feet +from the outside, behind which they run the whole breadth of the hill in +this direction. In these galleries, at short distances, are ragged +yawning apertures, all formed by the hand of man, where stand the cannon +upon neat slightly raised pavements of small flint stones, each with its +pyramid of bullets on one side, and on the other a box, in which is +stowed the gear which the gunner requires in the exercise of his craft. +Everything was in its place, everything in the nicest English order, +everything ready to scathe and overwhelm in a few moments the proudest +and most numerous host which might appear marching in hostile array +against this singular fortress on the land side. + +There is not much variety in these places, one cavern and one gun +resembling the other. As for the guns, they are not of large calibre, +indeed, such are not needed here, where a pebble discharged from so great +an altitude, would be fraught with death. On descending a shaft, +however, I observed, in one cave of special importance, two enormous +carronades looking with peculiar wickedness and malignity down a shelving +rock, which perhaps, although not without tremendous difficulty, might be +scaled. The mere wind of one of these huge guns would be sufficient to +topple over a thousand men. What sensations of dread and horror must be +awakened in the breast of a foe when this hollow rock, in the day of +siege, emits its flame, smoke, and thundering wind from a thousand +yawning holes; horror not inferior to that felt by the peasant of the +neighbourhood when Mongibello {316} belches forth from all its orifices +its sulphureous fires. + +Emerging from the excavations, we proceeded to view various batteries. I +asked the sergeant whether his companions and himself were dexterous at +the use of the guns. He replied that these cannons were to them what the +fowling-piece is to the fowler, that they handled them as easily, and, he +believed, pointed them with more precision, as they seldom or never +missed an object within range of the shot. This man never spoke until he +was addressed, and then the answers which he gave were replete with good +sense, and in general well worded. After our excursion, which lasted at +least two hours, I made him a small present, and took leave with a hearty +shake of the hand. + +In the evening I prepared to go on board the vessel bound for Tangier, +trusting in what the Jewish secretary had told me as to its sailing. +Meeting him, however, accidentally in the street, he informed me that it +would not start until the following morning, advising me at the same time +to be on board at an early hour. I now roamed about the streets until +night was beginning to set in, and becoming weary, I was just about to +direct my steps to the inn, when I felt myself gently pulled by the +skirt. I was amidst a concourse of people who were gathered around some +Irish soldiers who were disputing, and I paid no attention; but I was +pulled again more forcibly than before, and I heard myself addressed in a +language which I had half forgotten, and which I scarcely expected ever +to hear again. I looked round, and lo! a tall figure stood close to me +and gazed in my face with anxious inquiring eyes. On its head was the +_kauk_ or furred cap of Jerusalem; depending from its shoulders, and +almost trailing on the ground, was a broad blue mantle, whilst _kandrisa_ +or Turkish trousers enveloped its nether limbs. I gazed on the figure as +wistfully as it gazed upon me. At first the features appeared perfectly +strange, and I was about to exclaim, “I know you not,” when one or two +lineaments struck me, and I cried, though somewhat hesitatingly, “Surely +this is Judah Lib.” + +I was in a steamer in the Baltic in the year ’34, if I mistake not. +There was a drizzling rain and a high sea, when I observed a young man of +about two and twenty leaning in a melancholy attitude against the side of +the vessel. By his countenance I knew him to be one of the Hebrew race, +nevertheless there was something very singular in his appearance, +something which is rarely found amongst that people, a certain air of +nobleness which highly interested me. I approached him, and in a few +minutes we were in earnest conversation. He spoke Polish and Jewish +German indiscriminately. The story which he related to me was highly +extraordinary, yet I yielded implicit credit to all his words, which came +from his mouth with an air of sincerity which precluded doubt; and, +moreover, he could have no motive for deceiving me. One idea, one +object, engrossed him entirely: “My father,” said he, in language which +strongly marked his race, “was a native of Galatia, a Jew of high caste, +a learned man, for he knew Zohar, {318} and he was likewise skilled in +medicine. When I was a child of some eight years, he left Galatia, and +taking his wife, who was my mother, and myself with him, he bent his way +unto the East, even to Jerusalem; there he established himself as a +merchant, for he was acquainted with trade and the arts of getting money. +He was much respected by the Rabbins of Jerusalem, for he was a Polish +man, and he knew more Zohar and more secrets than the wisest of them. He +made frequent journeys, and was absent for weeks and for months, but he +never exceeded six moons. My father loved me, and he taught me part of +what he knew in the moments of his leisure. I assisted him in his trade, +but he took me not with him in his journeys. We had a shop at Jerusalem, +even a shop of commerce, where we sold the goods of the Nazarene, and my +mother and myself, and even a little sister who was born shortly after +our arrival at Jerusalem, all assisted my father in his commerce. At +length it came to pass, that on a particular time he told us that he was +going on a journey, and he embraced us and bade us farewell, and he +departed, whilst we continued at Jerusalem attending to the business. We +awaited his return, but months passed, even six months, and he came not, +and we wondered; and months passed, even other six passed, but still he +came not, nor did we hear any tidings of him, and our hearts were filled +with heaviness and sorrow. But when years, even two years, were expired, +I said to my mother, ‘I will go and seek my father;’ and she said, ‘Do +so,’ and she gave me her blessing, and I kissed my little sister, and I +went forth as far as Egypt, and there I heard tidings of my father, for +people told me he had been there, and they named the time, and they said +that he had passed from thence to the land of the Turk; so I myself +followed to the land of the Turk, even unto Constantinople. And when I +arrived there I again heard of my father, for he was well known amongst +the Jews, and they told me the time of his being there, and they added +that he had speculated and prospered, and departed from Constantinople, +but whither he went they knew not. So I reasoned within myself and said, +perhaps he may have gone to the land of his fathers, even unto Galatia, +to visit his kindred; so I determined to go there myself, and I went, and +I found our kindred, and I made myself known to them, and they rejoiced +to see me: but when I asked them for my father, they shook their heads +and could give me no intelligence; and they would fain have had me tarry +with them, but I would not, for the thought of my father was working +strong within me, and I could not rest. So I departed and went to +another country, even unto Russia, and I went deep into that country, +even as far as Kazan, and of all I met, whether Jew, or Russ, or Tartar, +I inquired for my father: but no one knew him, nor had heard of him. So +I turned back, and here thou seest me; and I now purpose going through +all Germany and France, nay, through all the world, until I have received +intelligence of my father, for I cannot rest until I know what is become +of my father, for the thought of him burneth in my brain like fire, even +like the fire of _Jehinnim_.” + +Such was the individual whom I now saw again, after a lapse of five +years, in the street of Gibraltar, in the dusk of the evening. “Yes,” he +replied, “I am Judah, surnamed the _Lib_. Thou didst not recognize me, +but I knew thee at once. I should have known thee amongst a million, and +not a day has passed since I last saw thee, but I have thought on thee.” +I was about to reply, but he pulled me out of the crowd and led me into a +shop where, squatted on the floor, sat six or seven Jews cutting leather; +he said something to them which I did not understand, whereupon they +bowed their heads and followed their occupation, without taking any +notice of us. A singular figure had followed us to the door: it was a +man dressed in exceedingly shabby European garments, which exhibited +nevertheless the cut of a fashionable tailor. He seemed about fifty; his +face, which was very broad, was of a deep bronze colour; the features +were rugged, but exceedingly manly, and, notwithstanding they were those +of a Jew, exhibited no marks of cunning, but, on the contrary, much +simplicity and good nature. His form was above the middle height, and +tremendously athletic, the arms and back were literally those of a +Hercules squeezed into a modern surtout; the lower part of his face was +covered with a bushy beard, which depended halfway down his breast. This +figure remained at the door, his eyes fixed upon myself and Judah. + +The first inquiry which I now addressed was, “Have you heard of your +father?” + +“I have,” he replied. “When we parted, I proceeded through many lands, +and wherever I went I inquired of the people respecting my father, but +still they shook their heads, until I arrived at the land of Tunis; and +there I went to the head Rabbi, and he told me that he knew my father +well, and that he had been there, even at Tunis, and he named the time, +and he said that from thence he departed for the land of Fez; and he +spoke much of my father and of his learning, and he mentioned the Zohar, +even that dark book which my father loved so well; and he spoke yet more +of my father’s wealth and his speculations, in all of which it seems he +had thriven. So I departed, and I mounted a ship, and I went into the +land of Barbary, even unto Fez, and when I arrived there I heard much +intelligence of my father, but it was intelligence which perhaps was +worse than ignorance. For the Jews told me that my father had been +there, and had speculated and had thriven, and that from thence he +departed for Tafilaltz, which is the country of which the emperor, even +Muley Abderrahman, is a native; and there he was still prosperous, and +his wealth in gold and silver was very great; and he wished to go to a +not far distant town, and he engaged certain Moors, two in number, to +accompany him and defend him and his treasures: and the Moors were strong +men, even _makhasniah_, or soldiers; and they made a covenant with my +father, and they gave him their right hands, and they swore to spill +their blood rather than his should be shed. And my father was +encouraged, and he waxed bold, and he departed with them, even with the +two false Moors. And when they arrived in the uninhabited place, they +smote my father, and they prevailed against him, and they poured out his +blood in the way, and they robbed him of all he had, of his silks and his +merchandise, and of the gold and silver which he had made in his +speculations, and they went to their own village, and there they sat +themselves down and bought lands and houses, and they rejoiced and they +triumphed, and they made a merit of their deed, saying, ‘We have killed +an infidel, even an accursed Jew;’ and these things were notorious in +Fez. And when I heard these tidings my heart was sad, and I became like +a child, and I wept; but the fire of _Jehinnim_ burned no longer in my +brain, for I now knew what was become of my father. At last I took +comfort, and I reasoned with myself, saying, ‘Would it not be wise to go +unto the Moorish king and demand of him vengeance for my father’s death, +and that the spoilers be despoiled, and the treasure, even my father’s +treasure, be wrested from their hands and delivered up to me who am his +son?’ And the king of the Moors was not at that time in Fez, but was +absent in his wars; and I arose and followed him, even unto Arbat, {322} +which is a seaport, and when I arrived there, lo! I found him not, but +his son was there, and men said unto me, that to speak unto the son was +to speak unto the king, even Muley Abderrahman; so I went in unto the +king’s son, and I kneeled before him, and I lifted up my voice, and I +said unto him what I had to say, and he looked courteously upon me and +said, ‘Truly thy tale is a sorrowful one, and it maketh me sad; and what +thou askest, that will I grant, and thy father’s death shall be avenged, +and the spoilers shall be despoiled; and I will write thee a letter with +my own hand unto the Pasha, even the Pasha of Tafilaltz, and I will +enjoin him to make inquiry into thy matter, and that letter thou shalt +thyself carry and deliver unto him.’ And when I heard these words, my +heart died within my bosom for very fear, and I replied, ‘Not so, my +lord; it is good that thou write a letter unto the Pasha, even unto the +Pasha of Tafilaltz, but that letter will I not take, neither will I go to +Tafilaltz, for no sooner should I arrive there, and my errand be known, +than the Moors would arise and put me to death, either privily or +publicly, for are not the murderers of my father Moors; and am I aught +but a Jew, though I be a Polish man?’ And he looked benignantly, and he +said, ‘Truly, thou speakest wisely; I will write the letter, but thou +shalt not take it, for I will send it by other hands; therefore set thy +heart at rest, and doubt not that, if thy tale be true, thy father’s +death shall be avenged, and the treasure, or the value thereof, be +recovered and given up to thee; tell me, therefore, where wilt thou abide +till then?’ And I said unto him, ‘My lord, I will go into the land of +Suz and will tarry there.’ And he replied, ‘Do so, and thou shalt hear +speedily from me.’ So I arose and departed, and went into the land of +Suz, even unto Swirah, which the Nazarenes call Mogadore; and I waited +with a troubled heart for intelligence from the son of the Moorish king, +but no intelligence came, and never since that day have I heard from him, +and it is now three years since I was in his presence. And I sat me down +at Mogadore, and I married a wife, a daughter of our nation, and I wrote +to my mother, even to Jerusalem, and she sent me money, and with that I +entered into commerce, even as my father had done, and I speculated, and +I was not successful in my speculations, and I speedily lost all I had. +And now I am come to Gibraltar to speculate on the account of another, a +merchant of Mogadore, but I like not my occupation; he has deceived me; I +am going back, when I shall again seek the presence of the Moorish king, +and demand that the treasure of my father be taken from the spoilers and +delivered up to me, even to me his son.” + +I listened with mute attention to the singular tale of this singular man, +and when he had concluded I remained a considerable time without saying a +word. At last he inquired what had brought me to Gibraltar. I told him +that I was merely a passer through on my way to Tangier, for which place +I expected to sail the following morning. Whereupon he observed, that in +the course of a week or two he expected to be there also, when he hoped +that we should meet, as he had much more to tell me. “And peradventure,” +he added, “you can afford me counsel which will be profitable, for you +are a person of experience, versed in the ways of many nations; and when +I look in your countenance, heaven seems to open to me, for I think I see +the countenance of a friend, even of a brother.” He then bade me +farewell, and departed; the strange bearded man, who during our +conversation had remained patiently waiting at the door, following him. +I remarked that there was less wildness in his look than on the former +occasion, but, at the same time, more melancholy, and his features were +wrinkled like those of an aged man, though he had not yet passed the +prime of youth. + + + + +CHAPTER LIII. + + +Genoese Mariners—Saint Michael’s Cave—Midnight Abysses—Young American—A +Slave Proprietor—The Fairy Man—Infidelity. + +Throughout the whole of that night it blew very hard, but, as the wind +was in the Levant quarter, I had no apprehension of being detained longer +at Gibraltar on that account. I went on board the vessel at an early +hour, when I found the crew engaged in hauling the anchor close, and +making other preparations for sailing. They informed me that we should +probably start in an hour. That time, however, passed, and we still +remained where we were, and the captain continued on shore. We formed +one of a small flotilla of Genoese barks, the crews of which seemed in +their leisure moments to have no better means of amusing themselves than +the exchange of abusive language: a furious fusilade of this kind +presently commenced, in which the mate of our vessel particularly +distinguished himself; he was a grey-haired Genoese of sixty. Though not +able to speak their patois, I understood much of what was said. It was +truly shocking, and as they shouted it forth, judging from their violent +gestures and distorted features, you would have concluded them to be +bitter enemies. They were, however, nothing of the kind, but excellent +friends all the time, and indeed very good-humoured fellows at bottom. +Oh, the infirmities of human nature! When will man learn to become truly +Christian? + +I am upon the whole very fond of the Genoese; they have, it is true, much +ribaldry and many vices, but they are a brave and chivalrous people, and +have ever been so, and from them I have never experienced aught but +kindness and hospitality. + +After the lapse of another two hours, the Jew secretary arrived and said +something to the old mate, who grumbled much; then coming up to me, he +took off his hat and informed me that we were not to start that day, +saying at the same time that it was a shame to lose such a noble wind, +which would carry us to Tangier in three hours. “Patience,” said I, and +went on shore. + +I now strolled towards St. Michael’s cave, in company with the Jewish lad +whom I have before mentioned. + +The way thither does not lie in the same direction as that which leads to +the excavations; these confront Spain, whilst the cave yawns in the face +of Africa. It lies nearly at the top of the mountain, several hundred +yards above the sea. We passed by the public walks, where there are +noble trees, and also by many small houses, situated delightfully in +gardens, and occupied by the officers of the garrison. It is wrong to +suppose Gibraltar a mere naked barren rock; it is not without its +beautiful spots—spots such as these, looking cool and refreshing, with +bright green foliage. The path soon became very steep, and we left +behind us the dwellings of man. The gale of the preceding night had +entirely ceased, and not a breath of air was stirring; the midday sun +shone in all its fierce glory, and the crags up which we clambered were +not unfrequently watered with the perspiration drops which rained from +our temples: at length we arrived at the cavern. + +The mouth is a yawning cleft in the side of the mountain, about twelve +feet high and as many wide; within there is a very rapid, precipitous +descent for some fifty yards, where the cavern terminates in an abyss +which leads to unknown depths. The most remarkable object is a natural +column, which rises up something like the trunk of an enormous oak, as if +for the purpose of supporting the roof; it stands at a short distance +from the entrance, and gives a certain air of wildness and singularity to +that part of the cavern which is visible, which it would otherwise not +possess. The floor is exceedingly slippery, consisting of soil which the +continual drippings from the roof have saturated, so that no slight +precaution is necessary for him who treads it. It is very dangerous to +enter this place without a guide well acquainted with it, as, besides the +black pit at the extremity, holes which have never been fathomed present +themselves here and there, falling into which the adventurer would be +dashed to pieces. Whatever men may please to say of this cave, one thing +it seems to tell to all who approach it, namely, that the hand of man has +never been busy about it. There is many a cave of nature’s forming, old +as the earth on which we exist, which nevertheless exhibits indications +that man has turned it to some account, and that it has been subjected +more or less to his modifying power. Not so this cave of Gibraltar, for, +judging from its appearance, there is not the slightest reason for +supposing that it ever served for aught else than a den for foul night +birds, reptiles, and beasts of prey. It has been stated by some to have +been used in the days of paganism as a temple to the god Hercules, who, +according to the ancient tradition, raised the singular mass of crags now +called Gibraltar, and the mountain which confronts it on the African +shores, as columns which should say to all succeeding times that he had +been there, and had advanced no further. Sufficient to observe, that +there is nothing within the cave which would authorize the adoption of +such an opinion, not even a platform on which an altar could have stood, +whilst a narrow path passes before it, leading to the summit of the +mountain. As I have myself never penetrated into its depths, I can of +course not pretend to describe them. Numerous have been the individuals +who, instigated by curiosity, have ventured down to immense depths, +hoping to discover an end, and indeed scarcely a week passes without +similar attempts being made either by the officers or soldiers of the +garrison, all of which have proved perfectly abortive. No termination +has ever been reached, nor any discoveries made to repay the labour and +frightful danger incurred; precipice succeeds precipice, and abyss +succeeds abyss, in apparently endless succession, with ledges at +intervals, which afford the adventurers opportunities for resting +themselves and affixing their rope-ladders for the purpose of descending +yet further. What is, however, most mortifying and perplexing, is to +observe that these abysses are not only before, but behind you, and on +every side; indeed, close within the entrance of the cave, on the right, +there is a gulf almost equally dark and full as threatening as that which +exists at the nether end, and perhaps contains within itself as many +gulfs and horrid caverns branching off in all directions. Indeed, from +what I have heard, I have come to the opinion that the whole hill of +Gibraltar is honeycombed, and I have little doubt that, were it cleft +asunder, its interior would be found full of such abysses of Erebus as +those to which Saint Michael’s cave conducts. Many valuable lives are +lost every year in these horrible places; and only a few weeks before my +visit, two sergeants, brothers, had perished in the gulf on the right +hand side of the cave, having, when at a great depth, slipped down a +precipice. The body of one of these adventurous men is even now rotting +in the bowels of the mountain, preyed upon by its blind and noisome +worms; that of his brother was extricated. Immediately after this +horrible accident, a gate was placed before the mouth of the cave, to +prevent individuals, and especially the reckless soldiers, from indulging +in their extravagant curiosity. The lock, however, was speedily forced, +and at the period of my arrival the gate swung idly upon its hinges. + +As I left the place, I thought that perhaps similar to this was the cave +of Horeb, where dwelt Elijah, when he heard the still small voice, after +the great and strong wind which rent the mountains and brake in pieces +the rocks before the Lord; the cave to the entrance of which he went out +and stood with his face wrapped in his mantle, when he heard the voice +say unto him, “What doest thou here, Elijah?” {330} + +And what am I doing here, I inquired of myself, as, vexed at my +detention, I descended into the town. + +That afternoon I dined in the company of a young American, a native of +South Carolina. I had frequently seen him before, as he had been staying +for some time at the inn previous to my arrival at Gibraltar. His +appearance was remarkable: he was low of stature, and exceedingly +slightly made; his features were pale, but very well formed; he had a +magnificent head of crispy black hair, and as superb a pair of whiskers +of the same colour as I ever beheld. He wore a white hat, with broad +brim and particularly shallow crown, and was dressed in a light yellow +gingham frock, striped with black, and ample trousers of calico. In a +word, his appearance was altogether queer and singular. On my return +from my ramble to the cave, I found that he had himself just descended +from the mountain, having since a very early hour been absent exploring +its wonders. + +A man of the rock asked him how he liked the excavations. “Liked them?” +said he; “you might just as well ask a person who has just seen the +Niagara Falls how he liked them—like is not the word, mister.” The heat +was suffocating, as it almost invariably is in the town of Gibraltar, +where rarely a breath of air is to be felt, as it is sheltered from all +winds. This led another individual to inquire of him whether he did not +think it exceedingly hot? “Hot, sir?” he replied, “not at all; fine +cotton-gathering weather as a man could wish for. We couldn’t beat it in +South Carolina, sir.” “You live in South Carolina, sir—I hope, sir, you +are not a slave proprietor,” said the short, fat Jewish personage in the +snuff-coloured coat, who had offered me the bitters on a previous +occasion; “it is a terrible thing to make slaves of poor people, simply +because they happen to be black; don’t you think so, sir?” “Think so, +sir?—no, sir, I don’t think so—I glory in being a slave proprietor; have +four hundred black niggers on my estate—own estate, sir, near +Charleston—flog half a dozen of them before breakfast, merely for +exercise. Niggers only made to be flogged, sir; try to escape sometimes; +set the bloodhounds in their trail, catch them in a twinkling; used to +hang themselves formerly—the niggers thought that a sure way to return to +their own country and get clear of me; soon put a stop to that; told them +that if any more hanged themselves I’d hang myself too, follow close +behind them, and flog them in their own country ten times worse than in +mine. What do you think of that, friend?” It was easy to perceive that +there was more of fun than malice in this eccentric little fellow, for +his large grey eyes were sparkling with good humour whilst he poured out +these wild things. He was exceedingly free of his money; and a dirty +Irish woman, a soldier’s wife, having entered with a basketful of small +boxes and trinkets, made of portions of the rock of Gibraltar, he +purchased the greater part of her ware, giving her for every article the +price (by no means inconsiderable) which she demanded. He had glanced at +me several times, and at last I saw him stoop down and whisper something +to the Jew, who replied in an undertone, though with considerable +earnestness, “Oh dear no, sir; perfectly mistaken, sir; is no American, +sir; from Salamanca, sir—the gentleman is a Salamancan Spaniard.” The +waiter at length informed us that he had laid the table, and that perhaps +it would be agreeable to us to dine together: we instantly assented. I +found my new acquaintance in many respects a most agreeable companion: he +soon told me his history. He was a planter, and, from what he hinted, +just come to his property. He was part owner of a large vessel which +traded between Charleston and Gibraltar, and the yellow fever having just +broken out at the former place, he had determined to take a trip (his +first) to Europe in this ship; having, as he said, already visited every +state in the Union, and seen all that was to be seen there. He described +to me, in a very naïve and original manner, his sensations on passing by +Tarifa, which was the first walled town he had ever seen. I related to +him the history of that place, to which he listened with great attention. +He made divers attempts to learn from me who I was, all of which I +evaded, though he seemed fully convinced that I was an American; and, +amongst other things, asked me whether my father had not been American +consul at Seville. What, however, most perplexed him was my +understanding Moorish and Gaelic, which he had heard me speak +respectively to the _hamáles_ and the Irish woman, the latter of whom, as +he said, had told him that I was a fairy man. At last he introduced the +subject of religion, and spoke with much contempt of revelation, avowing +himself a deist: he was evidently very anxious to hear my opinion, but +here again I evaded him, and contented myself with asking him whether he +had ever read the Bible. He said he had not, but that he was well +acquainted with the writings of Volney and Mirabeau. I made no answer, +whereupon he added, that it was by no means his habit to introduce such +subjects, and that there were very few persons to whom he would speak so +unreservedly, but that I had very much interested him, though our +acquaintance had been short. I replied, that he would scarcely have +spoken at Boston in the manner that I had just heard him, and that it was +easy to perceive that he was not a New Englander. “I assure you,” said +he, “I should as little have thought of speaking so at Charleston, for if +I held such conversation there, I should soon have had to speak to +myself.” + +Had I known less of deists than it has been my fortune to know, I should +perhaps have endeavoured to convince this young man of the erroneousness +of the ideas which he had adopted; but I was aware of all that he would +have urged in reply, and, as the believer has no carnal arguments to +address to carnal reason upon this subject, I thought it best to avoid +disputation, which I felt sure would lead to no profitable result. Faith +is the free gift of God, and I do not believe that ever yet was an +infidel converted by means of after-dinner polemics. This was the last +evening of my sojourn in Gibraltar. + + + + +CHAPTER LIV. + + +Again on Board—The Strange Visage—The Haji—Setting Sail—The Two +Jews—American Vessel—Tangier—Adun Oulem—The Struggle—The Forbidden Thing. + +On Thursday, the 8th of August, I was again on board the Genoese bark, at +as early an hour as on the previous morning. After waiting, however, two +or three hours without any preparation being made for departing, I was +about to return to the shore once more, but the old Genoese mate advised +me to stay, assuring me that he had no doubt of our sailing speedily, as +all the cargo was on board, and we had nothing further to detain us. I +was reposing myself in the little cabin, when I heard a boat strike +against the side of the vessel, and some people come on board. Presently +a face peered in at the opening, strange and wild. I was half asleep, +and at first imagined I was dreaming, for the face seemed more like that +of a goat or an ogre than of a human being; its long beard almost +touching my face as I lay extended in a kind of berth. Starting up, +however, I recognized the singular-looking Jew whom I had seen in the +company of Judah Lib. He recognized me also, and nodding, bent his huge +features into a smile. I arose and went upon deck, where I found him in +company with another Jew, a young man in the dress of Barbary. They had +just arrived in the boat. I asked my friend of the beard who he was, +from whence he came, and where he was going? He answered, in broken +Portuguese, that he was returning from Lisbon, where he had been on +business, to Mogadore, of which place he was a native. He then looked me +in the face and smiled, and taking out a book from his pocket, in Hebrew +characters, fell to reading it; whereupon a Spanish sailor on board +observed that with such a beard and book he must needs be a _sabio_, or +sage. His companion was from Mequinez, and spoke only Arabic. + +A large boat now drew nigh, the stern of which was filled with Moors; +there might be about twelve, and the greater part evidently consisted of +persons of distinction, as they were dressed in all the pomp and +gallantry of the East, with snow-white turbans, _jabadores_ of green silk +or scarlet cloth, and _bedeyas_ rich with gold galloon. Some of them +were exceedingly fine men, and two amongst them, youths, were strikingly +handsome, and, so far from exhibiting the dark swarthy countenance of +Moors in general, their complexions were of a delicate red and white. +The principal personage, and to whom all the rest paid much deference, +was a tall athletic man of about forty. He wore a vest of white quilted +cotton, and white _kandrisa_, whilst gracefully wound round his body, and +swathing the upper part of his head, was the _haik_, or white flannel +wrapping plaid, always held in so much estimation by the Moors from the +earliest period of their history. His legs were bare, and his feet only +protected from the ground by yellow slippers. He displayed no further +ornament than one large gold earring, from which depended a pearl, +evidently of great price. A noble black beard, about a foot in length, +touched his muscular breast. His features were good, with the exception +of the eyes, which were somewhat small; their expression, however, was +evil; their glances were sullen; and malignity and ill-nature were +painted in every lineament of his countenance, which seemed never to have +been brightened with a smile. The Spanish sailor, of whom I have already +had occasion to speak, informed me in a whisper, that he was a +_santurron_, {337} or big saint, and was so far back on his way from +Mecca, adding, that he was a merchant of immense wealth. It soon +appeared that the other Moors had merely attended him on board through +friendly politeness, as they all successively came to bid him adieu, with +the exception of two blacks, who were his attendants. I observed that +these blacks, when the Moors presented them their hands at departing, +invariably made an effort to press them to their lips, which effort was +as uniformly foiled, the Moors in every instance, by a speedy and +graceful movement, drawing back their hand locked in that of the black, +which they pressed against their own heart; as much as to say, “though a +negro and a slave you are a Moslem, and being so, you are our +brother—Allah knows no distinctions.” The boatman now went up to the +_haji_, demanding payment, stating, at the same time, that he had been on +board three times on his account, conveying his luggage. The sum which +he demanded appeared exorbitant to the _haji_, who, forgetting that he +was a saint, and fresh from Mecca, fumed outrageously, and in broken +Spanish called the boatman thief. If there be any term of reproach which +stings a Spaniard (and such was the boatman) more than another, it is +that one; and the fellow no sooner heard it applied to himself, than, +with eyes sparkling with fury, he put his fist to the _haji’s_ nose, and +repaid the one opprobrious name by at least ten others equally bad or +worse. He would perhaps have proceeded to acts of violence had he not +been pulled away by the other Moors, who led him aside, and I suppose +either said or gave him something which pacified him, as he soon got into +his boat, and returned with them on shore. The captain now arrived with +his Jewish secretary, and orders were given for setting sail. + +At a little past twelve we were steering out of the bay of Gibraltar. +The wind was in the right quarter, but for some time we did not make much +progress, lying almost becalmed beneath the lee of the hill; by degrees, +however, our progress became brisker, and in about an hour we found +ourselves careering smartly towards Tarifa. + +The Jew secretary stood at the helm, and indeed appeared to be the person +who commanded the vessel, and who issued out all the necessary orders, +which were executed under the superintendence of the old Genoese mate. I +now put some questions to the _haji_, but he looked at me askance with +his sullen eye, pouted with his lip, and remained silent; as much as to +say, “Speak not to me, I am holier than thou.” I found his negroes, +however, far more conversable. One of them was old and ugly, the other +about twenty, and as well-looking as it is possible for a negro to be. +His colour was perfect ebony, his features exceedingly well-formed and +delicate, with the exception of the lips, which were too full. The shape +of his eyes was peculiar; they were rather oblong than round, like those +of an Egyptian figure. Their expression was thoughtful and meditative. +In every respect he differed from his companion, even in colour (though +both were negroes), and was evidently a scion of some little-known and +superior race. As he sat beneath the mast gazing at the sea, I thought +he was misplaced, and that he would have appeared to more advantage +amidst boundless sands, and beneath a date-tree, and then he might have +well represented a _Jin_. I asked him from whence he came; he replied +that he was a native of Fez, but that he had never known his parents. He +had been brought up, he added, in the family of his present master, whom +he had followed in the greater part of his travels, and with whom he had +thrice visited Mecca. I asked him if he liked being a slave? Whereupon +he replied, that he was a slave no longer, having been made free for some +time past, on account of his faithful services, as had likewise his +companion. He would have told me much more, but the _haji_ called him +away, and otherwise employed him, probably to prevent his being +contaminated by me. + +Thus, avoided by the Moslems, I betook myself to the Jews, whom I found +nowise backward in cultivating an intimacy. The sage of the beard told +me his history, which in some respects reminded me of that of Judah Lib, +as it seemed that, a year or two previous, he had quitted Mogadore in +pursuit of his son, who had betaken himself to Portugal. On the arrival, +however, of the father at Lisbon, he discovered that the fugitive had, a +few days before, shipped himself for the Brazils. Unlike Judah in quest +of his father, he now became weary, and discontinued the pursuit. The +younger Jew from Mequinez was exceedingly gay and lively as soon as he +perceived that I was capable of understanding him, and made me smile by +his humorous account of Christian life, as he had observed it at +Gibraltar, where he had made a stay of about a month. He then spoke of +Mequinez, which, he said, was a _Jennut_, or Paradise, compared with +which Gibraltar was a sty of hogs. So great, so universal is the love of +country. I soon saw that both these people believed me to be of their +own nation: indeed, the young one, who was much the most familiar, taxed +me with being so, and spoke of the infamy of denying my own blood. +Shortly before our arrival off Tarifa, universal hunger seemed to prevail +amongst us. The _haji_ and his negroes produced their store, and feasted +on roast fowls, the Jews ate grapes and bread, myself bread and cheese, +whilst the crew prepared a mess of anchovies. Two of them speedily came +with a large portion, which they presented to me with the kindness of +brothers: I made no hesitation in accepting their present, and found the +anchovies delicious. As I sat between the Jews, I offered them some, but +they turned away their heads with disgust, and cried, _Haloof_. They at +the same time, however, shook me by the hand, and, uninvited, took a +small portion of my bread. I had a bottle of Cognac, which I had brought +with me as a preventive to sea-sickness, and I presented it to them; but +this they also refused, exclaiming, _Harám_. I said nothing. + +We were now close to the lighthouse of Tarifa, and turning the head of +the bark towards the west, we made directly for the coast of Africa. The +wind was now blowing very fresh, and as we had it almost in our poop, we +sprang along at a tremendous rate, the huge latine sails threatening +every moment to drive us beneath the billows, which an adverse tide +raised up against us. Whilst scudding along in this manner, we passed +close under the stern of a large vessel bearing American colours; she was +tacking up the straits, and slowly winning her way against the impetuous +Levanter. As we passed under her, I observed the poop crowded with +people gazing at us; indeed, we must have offered a singular spectacle to +those on board, who, like my young American friend at Gibraltar, were +visiting the Old World for the first time. At the helm stood the Jew; +his whole figure enveloped in a gabardine, the cowl of which, raised +above his head, gave him almost the appearance of a spectre in its +shroud; whilst upon the deck, mixed with Europeans in various kinds of +dresses, all of them picturesque with the exception of my own, trod the +turbaned Moors, the _haik_ of the _haji_ flapping loosely in the wind. +The view they obtained of us, however, could have been but momentary, as +we bounded past them literally with the speed of a racehorse, so that in +about an hour’s time we were not more than a mile’s distance from the +foreland on which stands the fortress Alminàr, and which constitutes the +boundary point of the bay of Tangier towards the east. There the wind +dropped and our progress was again slow. + +For a considerable time Tangier had appeared in sight. Shortly after +standing away from Tarifa, we had descried it in the far distance, when +it showed like a white dove brooding on its nest. The sun was setting +behind the town when we dropped anchor in its harbour, amidst half a +dozen barks and felouks about the size of our own, the only vessels which +we saw. There stood Tangier before us, and a picturesque town it was, +occupying the sides and top of two hills, one of which, bold and bluff, +projects into the sea where the coast takes a sudden and abrupt turn. +Frowning and battlemented were its walls, either perched on the top of +precipitous rocks, whose base was washed by the salt billows, or rising +from the narrow strand which separates the hill from the ocean. + +Yonder are two or three tiers of batteries, displaying heavy guns, which +command the harbour; above them you see the terraces of the town rising +in succession like steps for giants. But all is white, perfectly white, +so that the whole seems cut out of an immense chalk rock, though true it +is that you behold here and there tall green trees springing up from +amidst the whiteness: perhaps they belong to Moorish gardens, and beneath +them even now peradventure is reclining many a dark-eyed Leila, akin to +the _houris_. Right before you is a high tower, or minaret, not white +but curiously painted, which belongs to the principal mosque of Tangier; +a black banner waves upon it, for it is the feast of Ashor. A noble +beach of white sand fringes the bay from the town to the foreland of +Alminàr. To the east rise prodigious hills and mountains: they are Gibil +Muza and his chain; and yon tall fellow is the peak of Tetuan; the grey +mists of evening are enveloping their sides. Such was Tangier, such its +vicinity, as it appeared to me whilst gazing from the Genoese bark. + +A boat was now lowered from the vessel, in which the captain, who was +charged with the mail from Gibraltar, the Jew secretary, and the _haji_ +and his attendant negroes departed for the shore. I would have gone with +them, but I was told that I could not land that night, as ere my passport +and bill of health could be examined, the gates would be closed; so I +remained on board with the crew and the two Jews. The former prepared +their supper, which consisted simply of pickled _tomates_, {343a} the +other provisions having been consumed. The old Genoese brought me a +portion, apologizing at the same time for the plainness of the fare. I +accepted it with thanks, and told him that a million better men than +myself had a worse supper. I never ate with more appetite. As the night +advanced, the Jews sang Hebrew hymns, and when they had concluded, +demanded of me why I was silent, so I lifted up my voice and chanted +_Adun Oulem_. {343b} + +Darkness had now fallen over land and sea: not a sound was heard save +occasionally the distant barking of a dog from the shore, or some +plaintive Genoese ditty, which arose from a neighbouring bark. The town +seemed buried in silence and gloom, no light, not even that of a taper, +could be descried. Turning our eyes in the direction of Spain, however, +we perceived a magnificent conflagration, seemingly enveloping the side +and head of one of the lofty mountains northward of Tarifa. The blaze +was redly reflected in the waters of the strait; either the brushwood was +burning or the _carboneros_ were plying their dusky toil. The Jews now +complained of weariness, and the younger, uncording a small mattress, +spread it on the deck and sought repose. The sage descended into the +cabin, but he had scarcely time to lie down ere the old mate, darting +forward, dived in after him, and pulled him out by the heels, for it was +very shallow, and the descent was effected by not more than two or three +steps. After accomplishing this, he called him many opprobrious names, +and threatened him with his foot, as he lay sprawling on the deck. +“Think you,” said he, “who are a dog and a Jew, and pay as a dog and a +Jew; think you to sleep in the cabin? Undeceive yourself, beast: that +cabin shall be slept in by none to-night but this Christian _caballero_.” +The sage made no reply, but arose from the deck and stroked his beard, +whilst the old Genoese proceeded in his Philippic. Had the Jew been +disposed, he could have strangled the insulter in a moment, or crushed +him to death in his brawny arms, as I never remember to have seen a +figure so powerful and muscular; but he was evidently slow to anger, and +long-suffering. Not a resentful word escaped him, and his features +retained their usual expression of benignant placidity. + +I now assured the mate that I had not the slightest objection to the +Jew’s sharing the cabin with me, but rather wished it, as there was room +for us both and for more. “Excuse me, Sir Cavalier,” replied the +Genoese, “but I swear to permit no such thing; you are young, and do not +know this _canaille_ as I do, who have been backward and forward to this +coast for twenty years. If the beast is cold, let him sleep below the +hatches as I and the rest shall, but that cabin he shall not enter.” +Observing that he was obstinate, I retired, and in a few minutes was in a +sound sleep, which lasted till daybreak. Twice or thrice, indeed, I +thought that a struggle was taking place near me; but I was so +overpowered with weariness, or “sleep drunken,” as the Germans call it, +that I was unable to arouse myself sufficiently to discover what was +going on. The truth is, that three times during the night, the sage, +feeling himself uncomfortable in the open air by the side of his +companion, penetrated into the cabin, and was as many times dragged out +by his relentless old enemy, who, suspecting his intentions, kept his eye +upon him throughout the night. + +About five I arose: the sun was shining brightly and gloriously upon +town, bay, and mountain; the crew were already employed upon deck +repairing a sail which had been shivered in the wind of the preceding +day. The Jews sat disconsolate on the poop; they complained much of the +cold they had suffered in their exposed situation. Over the left eye of +the sage I observed a bloody cut, which he informed me he had received +from the old Genoese after he had dragged him out of the cabin for the +last time. I now produced my bottle of Cognac, begging that the crew +would partake of it as a slight return for their hospitality. They +thanked me, and the bottle went its round; it was last in the hands of +the old mate, who, after looking for a moment at the sage, raised it to +his mouth, where he kept it a considerable time longer than any of his +companions, after which he returned it to me with a low bow. The sage +now inquired what the bottle contained. I told him Cognac, or +_aguardiente_, whereupon with some eagerness he begged that I would allow +him to take a draught. “How is this?” said I; “yesterday you told me +that it was a forbidden thing, an abomination.” “Yesterday,” said he, “I +was not aware that it was brandy; I thought it was wine, which assuredly +is an abomination, and a forbidden thing.” “Is it forbidden in the +_Torah_?” I inquired. “Is it forbidden in the law of God?” “I know +not,” said he; “but one thing I know, that the sages have forbidden it.” +“Sages like yourself,” cried I with warmth; “sages like yourself, with +long beards and short understandings; the use of both drinks is +permitted, but more danger lurks in this bottle than in a tun of wine. +Well said my Lord the Nazarene, ‘ye strain at a gnat, and swallow a +camel;’ but as you are cold and shivering, take the bottle and revive +yourself with a small portion of its contents.” He put it to his lips +and found not a single drop. The old Genoese grinned. + +“_Bestia_,” said he, “I saw by your looks that you wished to drink of +that bottle, and I said within me, even though I suffocate, yet will I +not leave one drop of the _aguardiente_ of the Christian Cavalier to be +wasted on that Jew, on whose head may evil lightnings fall.” + +“Now, Sir Cavalier,” he continued, “you can go ashore: these two sailors +shall row you to the Mole, and convey your baggage where you think +proper; may the Virgin bless you wherever you go.” + + + + +CHAPTER LV. + + +The Mole—The Two Moors—Djmah of Tangier—House of God—British +Consul—Curious Spectacle—The Moorish House—Joanna Correa—Ave Maria. + +So we rowed to the Mole, and landed. This Mole consists at present of +nothing more than an immense number of large loose stones, which run +about five hundred yards into the bay; they are part of the ruins of a +magnificent pier which the English, who were the last foreign nation +which held Tangier, destroyed when they evacuated the place. {348} The +Moors have never attempted to repair it: the surf at high water breaks +over it with great fury. I found it a difficult task to pick my way over +the slippery stones, and should once or twice have fallen but for the +kindness of the Genoese mariners. At last we reached the beach, and were +proceeding towards the gate of the town, when two persons, Moors, came up +to us. I almost started at sight of the first: he was a huge old +barbarian with a white uncombed beard, dirty turban, _haik_, and +trousers, naked legs, and immense splay feet, the heels of which stood +out a couple of inches at least behind his rusty black slippers. + +“That is the captain of the port,” said one of the Genoese; “pay him +respect.” I accordingly doffed my hat and cried, “_Sba alkheir a sidi_.” +{349} “Are you Englishmans?” shouted the old grisly giant. +“Englishmans, my lord,” I replied, and, advancing, presented him my hand, +which he nearly wrung off with his tremendous gripe. The other Moor now +addressed me in a jargon composed of English, Spanish, and Arabic. A +queer-looking personage was he also, but very different in most respects +from his companion, being shorter by a head at least, and less complete +by one eye, for the left orb of vision was closed, leaving him, as the +Spaniards style it, _tuerto_; he, however, far outshone the other in +cleanliness of turban, _haik_, and trousers. From what he jabbered to +me, I collected that he was the English consul’s _mahasni_, or soldier; +that the consul, being aware of my arrival, had despatched him to conduct +me to his house. He then motioned me to follow him, which I did, the old +port-captain attending us to the gate, when he turned aside into a +building, which I judged to be a kind of custom-house from the bales and +boxes of every description piled up before it. We passed the gate and +proceeded up a steep and winding ascent. On our left was a battery full +of guns, pointing to the sea, and on our right a massive wall, seemingly +in part cut out of the hill: a little higher up we arrived at an opening +where stood the mosque which I have already mentioned. As I gazed upon +the tower I said to myself, “Surely we have here a younger sister of the +Giralda of Seville.” + +I know not whether the resemblance between the two edifices has been +observed by any other individual; and perhaps there are those who would +assert that no resemblance exists, especially if, in forming an opinion, +they were much swayed by size and colour: the hue of the Giralda is red, +or rather vermilion, whilst that which predominates in the Djmah of +Tangier is green, the bricks of which it is built being of that colour; +though between them, at certain intervals, are placed others of a light +red tinge, so that the tower is beautifully variegated. With respect to +size, standing beside the giant witch of Seville, the Tangerine Djmah +would show like a ten-year sapling in the vicinity of the cedar of +Lebanon, whose trunk the tempests of five hundred years have worn. And +yet I will assert that the towers in other respects are one and the same, +and that the same mind and the same design are manifested in both; the +same shape do they exhibit, and the same marks have they on their walls, +even those mysterious arches graven on the superfice of the bricks, +emblematic of I know not what. The two structures may, without any +violence, be said to stand in the same relation to each other as the +ancient and modern Moors. The Giralda is the world’s wonder, and the old +Moor was all but the world’s conqueror. The modern Moor is scarcely +known, and who ever heard of the tower of Tangier? Yet examine it +attentively, and you will find in that tower much, very much, to admire, +and certainly, if opportunity enable you to consider the modern Moor +minutely, you will discover in him, and in his actions, amongst much that +is wild, uncouth, and barbarous, not a little capable of amply rewarding +laborious investigation. + +As we passed the mosque I stopped for a moment before the door, and +looked in upon the interior: I saw nothing but a quadrangular court paved +with painted tiles and exposed to the sky; on all sides were arched +_piazzas_, and in the middle was a fountain, at which several Moors were +performing their ablutions. I looked around for the abominable thing and +found it not; the besetting sin of the pseudo-Christian Church did not +stare me in the face in every corner. “Come here,” said I, “Papist, and +take a lesson; here is a house of God, in externals at least, such as a +house of God should be: four walls, a fountain, and the eternal firmament +above, which mirrors His glory. Dost thou build such houses to the God +who has said, ‘Thou shalt make to thyself no graven image’? Fool, thy +walls are stuck with idols; thou callest a stone thy Father, and a piece +of rotting wood the Queen of Heaven. Fool, thou knowest not even the +Ancient of Days, and the very Moor can instruct thee. He at least knows +the Ancient of Days who has said, ‘Thou shalt have no other gods but +me.’” + +And as I said these words I heard a cry like the roaring of a lion, and +an awful voice in the distance exclaim, “_Kapul Udbagh_.” {351} + +We now turned to the left through a passage which passed under the tower, +and had scarcely proceeded a few steps, when I heard a prodigious hubbub +of infantine voices: I listened for a moment, and distinguished verses of +the Koran; it was a school. Another lesson for thee, Papist. Thou +callest thyself a Christian, yet the book of Christ thou persecutest; +thou huntest it even to the seashore, compelling it to seek refuge upon +the billows of the sea. Fool, learn a lesson from the Moor, who teaches +his child to repeat with its first accents the most important portions of +the book of his law, and considers himself wise or foolish, according as +he is versed in or ignorant of that book; whilst thou, blind slave, +knowest not what the book of thy own law contains, nor wishest to know: +yet art thou not to be judged by thy own law? Idol-monger, learn +consistency from the Moor: he says that he shall be judged after his own +law, and therefore he prizes and gets by heart the entire book of his +law. + +We were now at the consul’s house, a large roomy habitation, built in the +English style. The soldier led me through a court into a large hall hung +with the skins of all kinds of ferocious animals, from the kingly lion to +the snarling jackal. Here I was received by a Jew domestic, who +conducted me at once to the consul, who was in his library. He received +me with the utmost frankness and genuine kindness, and informed me that, +having received a letter from his excellent friend Mr. B---, in which I +was strongly recommended, he had already engaged me a lodging in the +house of a Spanish woman, who was, however, a British subject, and with +whom he believed that I should find myself as comfortable as it was +possible to be in such a place as Tangier. He then inquired if I had any +particular motive for visiting the place, and I informed him without +hesitation that I came with the intention of distributing a certain +number of copies of the New Testament in the Spanish language amongst the +Christian residents of the place. He smiled, and advised me to proceed +with considerable caution, which I promised to do. We then discoursed on +other subjects, and it was not long before I perceived that I was in the +company of a most accomplished scholar, especially in the Greek and Latin +classics; he appeared likewise to be thoroughly acquainted with the +Barbary empire and with the Moorish character. + +After half an hour’s conversation, exceedingly agreeable and instructive +to myself, I expressed a wish to proceed to my lodging; whereupon he rang +the bell, and, the same Jewish domestic entering who had introduced me, +he said to him in the English language, “Take this gentleman to the house +of Joanna Correa, the Mahonese widow, and enjoin her, in my name, to take +care of him and attend to his comforts; by doing which she will confirm +me in the good opinion which I at present entertain of her, and will +increase my disposition to befriend her.” + +So, attended by the Jew, I now bent my steps to the lodging prepared for +me. Having ascended the street in which the house of the consul was +situated, we entered a small square which stands about half way up the +hill. This, my companion informed me, was the _soc_, or market-place. A +curious spectacle here presented itself. All round the square were small +wooden booths, which very much resembled large boxes turned on their +sides, the lid being supported above by a string. Before each of these +boxes was a species of counter, or rather one long counter ran in front +of the whole line, upon which were raisins, dates, and small barrels of +sugar, soap, and butter, and various other articles. Within each box, in +front of the counter, and about three feet from the ground, sat a human +being, with a blanket on its shoulders, a dirty turban on its head, and +ragged trousers, which descended as far as the knee, though in some +instances, I believe, these were entirely dispensed with. In its hand it +held a stick, to the end of which was affixed a bunch of palm leaves, +which it waved incessantly as a fan, for the purpose of scaring from its +goods the million flies which, engendered by the Barbary sun, endeavoured +to settle upon them. Behind it, and on either side, were piles of the +same kind of goods. _Shrit hinai_, _shrit hinai_, {354} was continually +proceeding from its mouth. Such are the grocers of Tangier, such their +shops. + +In the middle of the _soc_, upon the stones, were pyramids of melons and +_sandias_, and also baskets filled with other kinds of fruit, exposed for +sale, whilst round cakes of bread were lying here and there upon the +stones, beside which sat on their hams the wildest-looking beings that +the most extravagant imagination ever conceived, the head covered with an +enormous straw hat, at least two yards in circumference, the eaves of +which, flapping down, completely concealed the face, whilst the form was +swathed in a blanket, from which occasionally were thrust skinny arms and +fingers. These were Moorish women, who were, I believe, in all +instances, old and ugly, judging from the countenances of which I caught +a glimpse as they lifted the eaves of their hats to gaze on me as I +passed, or to curse me for stamping on their bread. The whole _soc_ was +full of people, and there was abundance of bustle, screaming, and +vociferation, and as the sun, though the hour was still early, was +shining with the greatest brilliancy, I thought that I had scarcely ever +witnessed a livelier scene. + +Crossing the _soc_, we entered a narrow street with the same kind of +box-shops on each side, some of which, however, were either unoccupied or +not yet opened, the lid being closed. We almost immediately turned to +the left, up a street somewhat similar, and my guide presently entered +the door of a low house which stood at the corner of a little alley, and +which he informed me was the abode of Joanna Correa. We soon stood in +the midst of this habitation. I say the midst, as all the Moorish houses +are built with a small court in the middle. This one was not more than +ten feet square. It was open at the top, and around it on three sides +were apartments: on the fourth a small staircase, which communicated with +the upper story, half of which consisted of a terrace looking down into +the court, over the low walls of which you enjoyed a prospect of the sea +and a considerable part of the town. The rest of the story was taken up +by a long room, destined for myself, and which opened upon the terrace by +a pair of folding-doors. At either end of this apartment stood a bed, +extending transversely from wall to wall, the canopy touching the +ceiling. A table and two or three chairs completed the furniture. + +I was so occupied in inspecting the house of Joanna Correa, that at first +I paid little attention to that lady herself. She now, however, came up +upon the terrace where my guide and myself were standing. She was a +woman about five and forty, with regular features, which had once been +handsome, but had received considerable injury from time, and perhaps +more from trouble. Two of her front teeth had disappeared, but she still +had fine black hair. As I looked upon her countenance, I said within +myself, if there be truth in physiognomy, thou art good and gentle, O +Joanna; and, indeed, the kindness I experienced from her during the six +weeks which I spent beneath her roof would have made me a convert to that +science had I doubted in it before. I believe no warmer and more +affectionate heart ever beat in human bosom than in that of Joanna +Correa, the Mahonese widow, and it was indexed by features beaming with +benevolence and good nature, though somewhat clouded with melancholy. + +She informed me that she had been married to a Genoese, the master of a +felouk which passed between Gibraltar and Tangier, who had been dead +about four years, leaving her with a family of four children, the eldest +of which was a lad of thirteen; that she had experienced great difficulty +in providing for her family and herself since the death of her husband, +but that Providence had raised her up a few excellent friends, especially +the British consul; that besides letting lodgings to such travellers as +myself, she made bread which was in high esteem with the Moors, and that +she was likewise in partnership in the sale of liquors with an old +Genoese. She added that this last person lived below in one of the +apartments; that he was a man of great ability and much learning, but +that she believed he was occasionally somewhat touched here, pointing +with her finger to her forehead, and she therefore hoped that I would not +be offended at anything extraordinary in his language or behaviour. She +then left me, as she said, to give orders for my breakfast; whereupon the +Jewish domestic, who had accompanied me from the consul, finding that I +was established in the house, departed. + +I speedily sat down to breakfast in an apartment on the left side of the +little _wustuddur_; the fare was excellent: tea, fried fish, eggs, and +grapes, not forgetting the celebrated bread of Joanna Correa. I was +waited upon by a tall Jewish youth of about twenty years, who informed me +that his name was Hayim Ben Attar, {357a} that he was a native of Fez, +from whence his parents brought him at a very early age to Tangier, where +he had passed the greater part of his life principally in the service of +Joanna Correa, waiting upon those who, like myself, lodged in the house. +I had completed my meal, and was seated in the little court, when I heard +in the apartment opposite to that in which I had breakfasted several +sighs, which were succeeded by as many groans, and then came _Ave Maria_, +_gratiâ plena_, _ora pro me_, {357b} and finally a croaking voice +chanted— + + “Gentem auferte perfidam + Credentium de finibus, + Ut Christo laudes debitas + Persolvamus alacriter.” {357c} + +“That is the old Genoese,” whispered Hayim Ben Attar, “praying to his +God, which he always does with particular devotion when he happens to +have gone to bed the preceding evening rather in liquor. He has in his +room a picture of _Maria Buckra_, before which he generally burns a +taper, and on her account he will never permit me to enter his apartment. +He once caught me looking at her, and I thought he would have killed me; +and since then he always keeps his chamber locked, and carries the key in +his pocket when he goes out. He hates both Jew and Moor, and says that +he is now living amongst them for his sins.” + +“They do not place tapers before pictures,” said I, and strolled forth to +see the wonders of the land. + + + + +CHAPTER LVI. + + +The Mahasni—Sin Samani—The Bazaar—Moorish Saints—See the Ayana!—The +Prickly Fig—Jewish Graves—The Place of Carcases—The Stable Boy—Horses of +the Moslem—Dar-dwag. + +I was standing in the market-place, a spectator of much the same scene as +I have already described, when a Moor came up to me and attempted to +utter a few words in Spanish. He was a tall elderly man, with sharp but +rather whimsical features, and might have been called good looking, had +he not been one-eyed, a very common deformity in this country. {359} His +body was swathed in an immense _haik_. Finding that I could understand +Moorish, he instantly began talking with immense volubility, and I soon +learnt that he was a _mahasni_. He expatiated diffusely on the beauties +of Tangier, of which he said he was a native, and at last exclaimed, +“Come, my sultan, come, my lord, and I will show you many things which +will gladden your eyes, and fill your heart with sunshine; it were a +shame in me, who have the advantage of being a son of Tangier, to permit +a stranger, who comes from an island in the great sea, as you tell me you +do, for the purpose of seeing this blessed land, to stand here in the +_soc_ with no one to guide him. By Allah, it shall not be so. Make room +for my sultan, make room for my lord,” he continued, pushing his way +through a crowd of men and children who had gathered round us; “it is his +highness’ pleasure to go with me. This way, my lord, this way;” and he +led the way up the hill, walking at a tremendous rate, and talking still +faster. “This street,” said he, “is the Siarrin, and its like is not to +be found in Tangier; observe how broad it is, even half the breadth of +the _soc_ itself; here are the shops of the most considerable merchants, +where are sold precious articles of all kinds. Observe those two men, +they are Algerines and good Moslems; they fled from Zair {360} when the +Nazarenes conquered it, not by force of fighting, not by valour, as you +may well suppose, but by gold; the Nazarenes only conquer by gold. The +Moor is good, the Moor is strong, who so good and strong? but he fights +not with gold, and therefore he lost Zair. + +“Observe you those men seated on the benches by those portals; they are +_mokhasniah_, they are my brethren. See their _haiks_ how white, see +their turbans how white. Oh that you could see their swords in the day +of war, for bright, bright are their swords! Now they bear no swords. +Wherefore should they? is there not peace in the land? See you him in +the shop opposite? That is the Pasha of Tangier, that is the Hamed Sin +Samani, the under Pasha of Tangier; the elder Pasha, my lord, is away on +a journey; may Allah send him a safe return. Yes, that is Hamed; he sits +in his _hanutz_ as were he nought more than a merchant, yet life and +death are in his hands. There he dispenses justice, even as he dispenses +the essence of the rose and cochineal, and powder of cannon and sulphur; +and these two last he sells on the account of Abderrahman, my lord and +sultan, for none can sell powder and the sulphur dust in his land but the +sultan. Should you wish to purchase _attar del nuar_, {361} should you +wish to purchase the essence of the rose, you must go to the _hanutz_ of +Sin Samani, for there only you will get it pure: you must receive it from +no common Moor, but only from Hamed. May Allah bless Hamed. The +_makhasniah_, my brethren, wait to do his orders, for wherever sits the +Pasha, there is a hall of judgment. See, now we are opposite the bazaar; +beneath yon gate is the court of the bazaar; what will you not find in +that bazaar? Silks from Fez you will find there: and if you wish for +_sibat_, if you wish for slippers for your feet, you must seek them +there, and there also are sold curious things from the towns of the +Nazarenes. Those large houses on our left are habitations of Nazarene +consuls; you have seen many such in your own land, therefore why should +you stay to look at them? Do you not admire this street of the Siarrin? +Whatever enters or goes out of Tangier by the land passes through this +street. Oh, the riches that pass through this street! Behold those +camels, what a long train; twenty, thirty, a whole _cafila_ descending +the street. _Wullah_! I know those camels, I know the driver. Good +day, O Sidi Hassim, in how many days from Fez? And now we are arrived at +the wall, and we must pass under this gate. This gate is called Bab del +Faz; we are now in the Soc de Barra.” + +The Soc de Barra is an open place beyond the upper wall of Tangier, on +the side of the hill. The ground is irregular and steep; there are, +however, some tolerably level spots. In this place, every Thursday {362} +and Sunday morning, a species of mart is held, on which account it is +called Soc de Barra, or the outward market-place. Here and there, near +the town ditch, are subterranean pits, with small orifices, about the +circumference of a chimney, which are generally covered with a large +stone, or stuffed with straw. These pits are granaries, in which wheat, +barley, and other species of grain intended for sale are stored. On one +side are two or three rude huts, or rather sheds, beneath which keep +watch the guardians of the corn. It is very dangerous to pass over this +hill at night, after the town gates are closed, as at that time numerous +large and ferocious dogs are let loose, who would to a certainty pull +down, and perhaps destroy, any stranger who should draw nigh. Halfway up +the hill are seen four white walls, inclosing a spot about ten feet +square, where rest the bones of Sidi Mokhfidh, a saint of celebrity, who +died some fifteen years ago. Here terminates the _soc_; the remainder of +the hill is called El Kawar, or the place of graves, being the common +burying-ground of Tangier; the resting-places of the dead are severally +distinguished by a few stones arranged so as to form an oblong circle. +Near Mokhfidh sleeps Sidi Gali; but the principal saint of Tangier lies +interred on the top of the hill, in the centre of a small plain. A +beautiful chapel or mosque, with vaulted roof, is erected there in his +honour, which is in general adorned with banners of various dyes. The +name of this saint is Mohammed _el Haji_, and his memory is held in the +utmost veneration in Tangier and its vicinity. His death occurred at the +commencement of the present century. + +These details I either gathered at the time or on subsequent occasions. +On the north side of the _soc_, close by the town, is a wall with a gate. +“Come,” said the old _mahasni_, giving a flourish with his hand; “come, +and I will show you the garden of a Nazarene consul.” I followed him +through the gate, and found myself in a spacious garden laid out in the +European taste, and planted with lemon and pear trees, and various kinds +of aromatic shrubs. It was, however, evident that the owner chiefly +prided himself on his flowers, of which there were numerous beds. There +was a handsome summer-house, and art seemed to have exhausted itself in +making the place complete. + +One thing was wanting, and its absence was strangely remarkable in a +garden at this time of the year; scarcely a leaf was to be seen. The +direst of all the plagues which devastated Egypt was now busy in this +part of Africa—the locust was at work, and in no place more fiercely than +in the particular spot where I was now standing. All around looked +blasted. The trees were brown and bald as in winter. Nothing green save +the fruits, especially the grapes, huge clusters of which were depending +from the _parras_; for the locust touches not the fruit whilst a single +leaf remains to be devoured. As we passed along the walks, these +horrible insects flew against us in every direction, and perished by +hundreds beneath our feet. “See the _ayanas_,” said the old _mahasni_, +“and hear them eating. Powerful is the _ayana_, more powerful than the +sultan or the consul. Should the sultan send all his _makhasniah_ +against the _ayana_, should he send me with them, the _ayana_ would say, +‘Ha! ha!’ Powerful is the _ayana_! He fears not the consul. A few +weeks ago the consul said, ‘I am stronger than the _ayana_, and I will +extirpate him from the land.’ So he shouted through the city, ‘O +Tangerines! speed forth to fight the _ayana_,—destroy him in the egg; for +know that whosoever shall bring me one pound weight of the eggs of the +_ayana_, unto him will I give five _reals_ of Spain; there shall be no +_ayanas_ this year.’ So all Tangier rushed forth to fight the _ayana_, +and to collect the eggs which the _ayana_ had laid to hatch beneath the +sand on the sides of the hills, and in the roads, and in the plains. And +my own child, who is seven years old, went forth to fight the _ayana_, +and he alone collected eggs to the weight of five pounds, eggs which the +_ayana_ had placed beneath the sand, and he carried them to the consul, +and the consul paid the price. And hundreds carried eggs to the consul, +more or less, and the consul paid them the price, and in less than three +days the treasure chest of the consul was exhausted. And then he cried, +‘Desist, O Tangerines! perhaps we have destroyed the _ayana_, perhaps we +have destroyed them all!’ Ha! ha! Look around you, and beneath you, and +above you, and tell me whether the consul has destroyed the _ayana_. Oh, +powerful is the _ayana_! More powerful than the consul, more powerful +than the sultan and all his armies.” {364} + +It will be as well to observe here, that within a week from this time all +the locusts had disappeared, no one knew how—only a few stragglers +remained. But for this providential deliverance, the fields and gardens +in the vicinity of Tangier would have been totally devastated. These +insects were of an immense size, and of a loathly appearance. + +We now passed over the _soc_ to the opposite side, where stand the huts +of the guardians. Here a species of lane presents itself, which descends +to the seashore; it is deep and precipitous, and resembles a gully or +ravine. The banks on either side are covered with the tree which bears +the prickly fig, called in Moorish, _Kermous del Inde_. {365} There is +something wild and grotesque in the appearance of this tree or plant, for +I know not which to call it. Its stem, though frequently of the +thickness of a man’s body, has no head, but divides itself, at a short +distance from the ground, into many crooked branches, which shoot in all +directions, and bear green and uncouth leaves, about half an inch in +thickness, and which, if they resemble anything, present the appearance +of the fore fins of a seal, and consist of multitudinous fibres. The +fruit, which somewhat resembles a pear, has a rough tegument covered with +minute prickles, which instantly enter the hand which touches them, +however slightly, and are very difficult to extract. I never remember to +have seen vegetation in ranker luxuriance than that which these fig-trees +exhibited, nor upon the whole a more singular spot. “Follow me,” said +the _mahasni_, “and I will show you something which you will like to +see.” So he turned to the left, leading the way by a narrow path up the +steep bank, till we reached the summit of a hillock, separated by a deep +ditch from the wall of Tangier. The ground was thickly covered with the +trees already described, which spread their strange arms along the +surface, and whose thick leaves crushed beneath our feet as we walked +along. Amongst them I observed a large number of stone slabs lying +horizontally; they were rudely scrawled over with odd characters, which +stooped down to inspect. “Are you _talib_ enough read those signs?” +exclaimed the old Moor. “They are letters of the accursed Jews; this is +their _mearrah_, as they call it, and here they inter their dead. Fools, +they trust in Muza, when they might believe in Mohammed, and therefore +their dead shall burn everlastingly in _Jehinnim_. See, my sultan, how +fat is the soil of this _mearrah_ of the Jews; see what _kermous_ grow +here. When I was a boy I often came to the _mearrah_ of the Jews to eat +_kermous_ in the season of their ripeness. The Moslem boys of Tangier +love the _kermous_ of the _mearrah_ of the Jews; but the Jews will not +gather them. They say that the waters of the springs which nourish the +roots of these trees pass among the bodies of their dead, and for that +reason it is an abomination to taste of these fruits. Be this true, or +be it not, one thing is certain, in whatever manner nourished, good are +the _kermous_ which grow in the _mearrah_ of the Jews.” + +We returned to the lane by the same path by which we had come: as we were +descending it he said, “Know, my sultan, that the name of the place where +we now are, and which you say you like much, is Dar-sinah. {367a} You +will ask me why it bears that name, as you see neither house nor man, +neither Moslem, Nazarene, nor Jew, only our two selves; I will tell you, +my sultan, for who can tell you better than myself? Learn, I pray you, +that Tangier was not always what it is now, nor did it occupy always the +place which it does now. It stood yonder (pointing to the east) on those +hills above the shore, and ruins of houses are still to be seen there, +and the spot is called Old Tangier. So in the old time, as I have heard +say, this Dar-sinah was a street, whether without or within the wall +matters not, and there resided men of all trades; smiths of gold, and +silver, and iron, and tin, and artificers of all kinds. You had only to +go to the Dar-sinah if you wished for any thing wrought, and there +instantly you would find a master of the particular craft. My sultan +tells me he likes the look of Dar-sinah at the present day; truly I know +not why, especially as the _kermous_ are not yet in their ripeness, nor +fit to eat. If he likes Dar-sinah now, how would my sultan have liked it +in the old time, when it was filled with gold and silver, and iron and +tin, and was noisy with the hammers, and the masters and the cunning men? +We are now arrived at the _Chali del Bahar_. {367b} Take care, my +sultan, we tread upon bones.” + +We had emerged from the Dar-sinah, and the seashore was before us; on a +sudden we found ourselves amongst a multitude of bones of all kinds of +animals, and seemingly of all dates; some being blanched with time and +exposure to sun and wind, whilst to others the flesh still partly clung; +whole carcases were here, horses, asses, and even the uncouth remains of +a camel. Gaunt dogs were busy here, growling, tearing, and gnawing; +amongst whom, unintimidated, stalked the carrion vulture, fiercely +battening and even disputing with the brutes the garbage; whilst the crow +hovered overhead, and croaked wistfully, or occasionally perched upon +some upturned rib bone. “See,” said the _mahasni_, “the _kawar_ of the +animals. My sultan has seen the _kawar_ of the Moslems and the _mearrah_ +of the Jews; and he sees here the _kawar_ of the animals. All the +animals which die in Tangier by the hand of God—horse, dog, or camel—are +brought to this spot, and here they putrefy or are devoured by the birds +of the heaven or the wild creatures that prowl on the _chali_. Come, my +sultan, it is not good to remain long in this place.” + +We were preparing to leave the spot, when we heard a galloping down the +Dar-sinah, and presently a horse and rider darted at full speed from the +mouth of the lane and appeared upon the strand: the horseman, when he saw +us, pulled up his steed with much difficulty, and joined us. The horse +was small but beautiful, a sorrel with long mane and tail; had he been +hoodwinked he might perhaps have been mistaken for a Cordovese _jaca_; he +was broad-chested, and rotund in his hind quarters, and possessed much of +the plumpness and sleekness which distinguish that breed, but looking in +his eyes you would have been undeceived in a moment; a wild savage fire +darted from the restless orbs, and so far from exhibiting the docility of +the other noble and loyal animal, he occasionally plunged desperately, +and could scarcely be restrained by a strong curb and powerful arm from +resuming his former head-long course. The rider was a youth, apparently +about eighteen, dressed as a European, with a _montero_ cap on his head: +he was athletically built, but with lengthy limbs, his feet, for he rode +without stirrups or saddle, reaching almost to the ground; his complexion +was almost as dark as that of a Mulatto; his features very handsome, the +eyes particularly so, but filled with an expression which was bold and +bad; and there was a disgusting look of sensuality about the mouth. He +addressed a few words to the _mahasni_, with whom he seemed to be well +acquainted, inquiring who I was. The old man answered, “O Jew, my sultan +understands our speech, thou hadst better address thyself to him.” The +lad then spoke to me in Arabic, but almost instantly dropping that +language, proceeded to discourse in tolerable French. “I suppose you are +French,” said he with much familiarity; “shall you stay long in Tangier?” +Having received an answer, he proceeded, “as you are an Englishman, you +are doubtless fond of horses; know, therefore, whenever you are disposed +for a ride, I will accompany you, and procure you horses. My name is +Ephraim Fragey: I am stable-boy to the Neapolitan consul, who prizes +himself upon possessing the best horses in Tangier; you shall mount any +you please. Would you like to try this little _aoud_?” I thanked him, +but declined his offer for the present, asking him at the same time how +he had acquired the French language, and why he, a Jew, did not appear in +the dress of his brethren? “I am in the service of a consul,” said he, +“and my master obtained permission that I might dress myself in this +manner; and as to speaking French, I have been to Marseilles and Naples, +to which last place I conveyed horses, presents from the sultan. Besides +French, I can speak Italian.” He then dismounted, and holding the horse +firmly by the bridle with one hand, proceeded to undress himself, which +having accomplished, he mounted the animal and rode into the water. The +skin of his body was much akin in colour to that of a frog or toad, but +the frame was that of a young Titan. The horse took to the water with +great unwillingness, and at a small distance from the shore commenced +struggling with his rider, whom he twice dashed from his back; the lad, +however, clung to the bridle, and detained the animal. All his efforts, +however, being unavailing to ride him deeper in, he fell to washing him +strenuously with his hands, then leading him out, he dressed himself and +returned by the way he came. + +“Good are the horses of the Moslems,” said my old friend; “where will you +find such? They will descend rocky mountains at full speed and neither +trip nor fall; but you must be cautious with the horses of the Moslems, +and treat them with kindness, for the horses of the Moslems are proud, +and they like not being slaves. When they are young and first mounted, +jerk not their mouths with your bit, for be sure if you do they will kill +you; sooner or later, you will perish beneath their feet. Good are our +horses, and good our riders, yea, very good are the Moslems at mounting +the horse; who are like them? I once saw a Frank rider compete with a +Moslem on this beach, and at first the Frank rider had it all his own +way, and he passed the Moslem, but the course was long, very long, and +the horse of the Frank rider, which was a Frank also, panted; but the +horse of the Moslem panted not, for he was a Moslem also, and the Moslem +rider at last gave a cry and the horse sprang forward and he overtook the +Frank horse, and then the Moslem rider stood up in his saddle. How did +he stand? Truly he stood on his head, and these eyes saw him; he stood +on his head in the saddle as he passed the Frank rider; and he cried ha! +ha! as he passed the Frank rider; and the Moslem horse cried ha! ha! as +he passed the Frank breed, and the Frank lost by a far distance. Good +are the Franks; good their horses; but better are the Moslems, and better +are the horses of the Moslems.” + +We now directed our steps towards the town, but not by the path we came: +turning to the left under the hill of the _mearrah_, and along the +strand, we soon came to a rudely-paved way with a steep ascent, which +wound beneath the wall of the town to a gate, before which, on one side, +were various little pits like graves, filled with water or lime. “This +is Dar-dwag,” said the _mahasni_; “this is the house of the bark, and to +this house are brought the hides; all those which are prepared for use in +Tangier are brought to this house, and here they are cured with lime, and +bran, and bark, and herbs. And in this Dar-dwag there are one hundred +and forty pits; I have counted them myself; and there were more which +have now ceased to be, for the place is very ancient. And these pits are +hired not by one, nor by two, but by many people, and whosoever list can +rent one of these pits and cure the hides which he may need; but the +owner of all is one man, and his name is Cado Ableque. And now my sultan +has seen the house of the bark, and I will show him nothing more this +day; for to-day is _Youm al Jumal_, {372} and the gates will be presently +shut whilst the Moslems perform their devotions. So I will accompany my +sultan to the guest house, and there I will leave him for the present.” + +We accordingly passed through a gate, and ascending a street found +ourselves before the mosque where I had stood in the morning; in another +minute or two we were at the door of Joanna Correa. I now offered my +kind guide a piece of silver as a remuneration for his trouble, whereupon +he drew himself up and said— + +“The silver of my sultan I will not take, for I consider that I have done +nothing to deserve it. We have not yet visited all the wonderful things +of this blessed town. On a future day I will conduct my sultan to the +castle of the governor, and to other places which my sultan will be glad +to see; and when we have seen all we can, and my sultan is content with +me, if at any time he see me in the _soc_ of a morning, with my basket in +my hand, and he see nothing in that basket, then is my sultan at liberty +as a friend to put grapes in my basket, or bread in my basket, or fish or +meat in my basket. That will I not refuse of my sultan, when I shall +have done more for him than I have now. But the silver of my sultan will +I not take now nor at any time.” He then waved his hand gently, and +departed. + + + + +CHAPTER LVII. + + +Strange Trio—The Mulatto—The Peace-offering—Moors of Granada—Vive la +Guadeloupe—The Moors—Pascual Fava—Blind Algerine—The Retreat. + +Three men were seated in the _wustuddur_ of Joanna Correa, when I +entered; singular-looking men they all were, though perhaps three were +never gathered together more unlike to each other in all points. The +first on whom I cast my eye was a man about sixty, dressed in a grey +kerseymere coat with short lappets, yellow waistcoat, and wide coarse +canvas trousers; upon his head was a very broad dirty straw hat, and in +his hand he held a thick cane with ivory handle; his eyes were bleared +and squinting, his face rubicund, and his nose much carbuncled. Beside +him sat a good-looking black, who perhaps appeared more negro than he +really was, from the circumstance of his being dressed in spotless white +jean—jerkin, waistcoat, and pantaloons being all of that material: his +head gear consisted of a blue _montero_ cap. His eyes sparkled like +diamonds, and there was an indescribable expression of good humour and +fun upon his countenance. The third man was a Mulatto, and by far the +most remarkable personage of the group: he might be between thirty and +forty; his body was very long, and, though uncouthly put together, +exhibited every mark of strength and vigour; it was cased in a _ferioul_ +of red wool, a kind of garment which descends below the hips. His long, +muscular, and hairy arms were naked from the elbow, where the sleeves of +the _ferioul_ terminate; his under limbs were short in comparison with +his body and arms; his legs were bare, but he wore blue _kandrisa_ as far +as the knee; every feature of his face was ugly, exceedingly and bitterly +ugly, and one of his eyes was sightless, being covered with a white film. +By his side on the ground was a large barrel, seemingly a water-cask, +which he occasionally seized with a finger and thumb, and waved over his +head as if it had been a quart pot. Such was the trio who now occupied +the _wustuddur_ of Joanna Correa: and I had scarcely time to remark what +I have just recorded, when that good lady entered from a back court with +her handmaid Johár, or the pearl, an ugly fat Jewish girl with an immense +mole on her cheek. + +“_Que Dios remate tu nombre_,” exclaimed the Mulatto; “may Allah blot out +your name, Joanna, and may he likewise blot out that of your maid Johár. +It is more than fifteen minutes that I have been seated here, after +having poured out into the _tinaja_ the water which I brought from the +fountain, and during all that time I have waited in vain for one single +word of civility from yourself or from Johár. _Usted no tiene modo_, you +have no manner with you, nor more has Johár. This is the only house in +Tangier where I am not received with fitting love and respect, and yet I +have done more for you than for any other person. Have I not filled your +_tinaja_ with water when other people have gone without a drop? When +even the consul and the interpreter of the consul had no water to slake +their thirst, have you not had enough to wash your _wustuddur_? And what +is my return? When I arrive in the heat of the day, I have not one kind +word spoken to me, nor so much as a glass of _makhiah_ offered to me; +must I tell you all that I do for you, Joanna? Truly I must, for you +have no manner with you. Do I not come every morning just at the third +hour; and do I not knock at your door; and do you not arise and let me +in, and then do I not knead your bread in your presence, whilst you lie +in bed, and because I knead it is not yours the best bread in Tangier? +For am I not the strongest man in Tangier, and the most noble also?” +Here he brandished his barrel over his head, and his face looked almost +demoniacal. “Hear me, Joanna,” he continued, “you know that I am the +strongest man in Tangier, and I tell you again for the thousandth time, +that I am the most noble. Who are the consuls? Who is the Pasha? They +are Pashas and consuls now, but who were their fathers? I know not, nor +do they. But do I not know who _my_ fathers; were? Were they not Moors +of Garnata (_Granada_), {375} and is it not on that account that I am the +strongest man in Tangier? Yes, I am of the old Moors of Garnata, and my +family has lived here, as is well known, since Garnata was lost to the +Nazarenes, and now I am the only one of my family of the blood of the old +Moors in all this land, and on that account I am of nobler blood than the +sultan, for the sultan is not of the blood of the Moors of Garnata. Do +you laugh, Joanna? Does your maid Johár laugh? Am I not Hammin Widdir, +_el hombre mas valido de Tanger_? {376a} And is it not true that I am of +the blood of the Moors of Garnata? Deny it, and I will kill you both, +you and your maid Johár.” + +“You have been eating _hsheesh_ and _majoon_, Hammin,” said Joanna +Correa, “and the _Shaitán_ has entered into you, as he but too frequently +does. I have been busy, and so has Johár, or we should have spoken to +you before; however, _ma ydoorshee_, {376b} I know how to pacify you now +and at all times; will you take some gin-bitters, or a glass of common +_makhiah_?” + +“May you burst, O Joanna,” said the Mulatto, “and may Johár also burst; I +mean, may you both live many years, and know neither pain nor sorrow. I +will take the gin-bitters, O Joanna, because they are stronger than the +_makhiah_, which always appears to me like water; and I like not water, +though I carry it. Many thanks to you, Joanna; here is health to you, +Joanna, and to this good company.” + +She had handed him a large tumbler filled to the brim; he put it to his +nostrils, snuffed in the flavour, and then, applying it to his mouth, +removed it not whilst one drop of the fluid remained. His features +gradually relaxed from their former angry expression, and looking +particularly amiable at Joanna, he at last said— + +“I hope that within a little time, O Joanna, you will be persuaded that I +am the strongest man in Tangier, and that I am sprung from the blood of +the Moors of Garnata, as then you will no longer refuse to take me for a +husband, you and your maid Johár, and to become Moors. What a glory to +you, after having been married to a _Genoui_, and given birth to +_Genouillos_, to receive for husband a Moor like me, and to bear him +children of the blood of Garnata! What a glory, too, for Johár!—how much +better than to marry a vile Jew, even like Hayim Ben Attar, or your cook +Sabia, both of whom I could strangle with two fingers, for am I not +Hammin Widdir, _Moro de Garnata_, _el hombre mas valido de Tanger_?” He +then shouldered his barrel and departed. + +“Is that Mulatto really what he pretends to be?” said I to Joanna; “is he +a descendant of the Moors of Granada?” + +“He always talks about the Moors of Granada, when he is mad with _majoon_ +or _aguardiente_,” interrupted, in bad French, the old man whom I have +before described, and in the same croaking voice which I had heard +chanting in the morning. “Nevertheless it may be true, and if he had not +heard something of the kind from his parents, he would never have +imagined such a thing, for he is too stupid. As I said before, it is by +no means impossible: many of the families of Granada settled down here +when their town was taken by the Christians, but the greater part went to +Tunis. When I was there, I lodged in the house of a Moor who called +himself Zegri, {378} and was always talking of Granada and the things +which his forefathers had done there. He would moreover sit for hours +singing romances of which I understood not one word, praised be the +Mother of God, but which he said all related to his family: there were +hundreds of that name in Tunis, therefore why should not this Hammin, +this drunken water-carrier, be a Moor of Granada also? He is ugly enough +to be emperor of all the Moors. Oh, the accursed _canaille_! I have +lived amongst them for my sins these eight years, at Oran and here. +_Monsieur_, do you not consider it to be a hard case for an old man like +myself, who am a Christian, to live amongst a race who know not God, nor +Christ, nor anything holy?” + +“What do you mean?” said I, “by asserting that the Moors know not God? +There is no people in the world who entertain sublimer notions of the +uncreated eternal God than the Moors, and no people have ever shown +themselves more zealous for His honour and glory: their very zeal for the +glory of God has been and is the chief obstacle to their becoming +Christians. They are afraid of compromising His dignity by supposing +that He ever condescended to become man. And with respect to Christ, +their ideas even of Him are much more just than those of the Papists; +they say He is a mighty prophet, whilst, according to the others, He is +either a piece of bread, or a helpless infant. In many points of +religion the Moors are wrong, dreadfully wrong; but are the Papists less +so? And one of their practices sets them immeasurably below the Moors in +the eyes of any unprejudiced person: they bow down to idols, Christian +idols if you like, but idols still, things graven of wood, and stone, and +brass; and from these things, which can neither hear, nor speak, nor +feel, they ask and expect to obtain favours.” + +“_Vive la France_, _Vive la Guadeloupe_!” said the black, with a good +French accent. “In France and in Guadeloupe there is no superstition, +and they pay as much regard to the Bible as to the Koran; I am now +learning to read, in order that I may understand the writings of +Voltaire, who, as I am told, has proved that both the one and the other +were written with the sole intention of deceiving mankind. _O_, _vive la +France_! where will you find such an enlightened country as France; and +where will you find such a plentiful country as France? Only one in the +world, and that is Guadeloupe. Is it not so, Monsieur Pascual? Were you +ever at Marseilles? _Ah quel bon pays est celui-là pour les vivres_, +_pour les petits poulets_, _pour les poulardes_, _pour les perdrix_, +_pour les perdreaux_, _pour les alouettes_, _pour les bécasses_, _pour +les bécassines_, _enfin_, _pour tout_.” + +“Pray, sir, are you a cook?” demanded I. + +“_Monsieur_, _je le suis pour vous rendre service_, _mon nom c’est +Gérard_, _et j’ai l’honneur d’être chef de cuisine chez monsieur le +consul Hollandois_. _A present je prie permission de vous saluer_; _il +faut que j’aille à la maison pour faire le diner de mon maître_.” + +At four I went to dine with the British consul. Two other English +gentlemen were present, who had arrived at Tangier from Gibraltar about +ten days previously for a short excursion, and were now detained longer +than they wished by the Levant wind. They had already visited the +principal towns in Spain, and proposed spending the winter either at +Cadiz or Seville. One of them, Mr. ---, struck me as being one of the +most remarkable men I had ever conversed with: he travelled not for +diversion nor instigated by curiosity, but merely with the hope of doing +spiritual good, chiefly by conversation. The consul soon asked me what I +thought of the Moors and their country. I told him that what I had +hitherto seen of both highly pleased me. He said that were I to live +amongst them ten years, as he had done, he believed I should entertain a +very different opinion; that no people in the world were more false and +cruel; that their government was one of the vilest description, with +which it was next to an impossibility for any foreign power to hold +amicable relations, as it invariably acted with bad faith, and set at +nought the most solemn treaties. That British property and interests +were every day subjected to ruin and spoliation, and British subjects +exposed to unheard-of vexations, without the slightest hope of redress +being offered, save recourse was had to force, the only argument to which +the Moors were accessible. He added, that towards the end of the +preceding year an atrocious murder had been perpetrated in Tangier: a +Genoese family of three individuals had perished, all of whom were +British subjects, and entitled to the protection of the British flag. +The murderers were known, and the principal one was even now in prison +for the fact; yet all attempts to bring him to condign punishment had +hitherto proved abortive, as he was a Moor, and his victims Christians. +Finally, he cautioned me not to take walks beyond the wall unaccompanied +by a soldier, whom he offered to provide for me should I desire it, as +otherwise I incurred great risk of being ill-treated by the Moors of the +interior, whom I might meet, or perhaps murdered; and he instanced the +case of a British officer who not long since had been murdered on the +beach for no other reason than being a Nazarene, and appearing in a +Nazarene dress. He at length introduced the subject of the Gospel, and I +was pleased to learn that, during his residence in Tangier, he had +distributed a considerable quantity of Bibles amongst the natives in the +Arabic language, and that many of the learned men, or _talibs_, had read +the holy volume with great interest, and that by this distribution, +which, it is true, was effected with much caution, no angry or unpleasant +feeling had been excited. He finally asked whether I had come with the +intention of circulating the Scripture amongst the Moors. + +I replied that I had no opportunity of doing so, as I had not one single +copy either in the Arabic language or character. That the few Testaments +which were in my possession were in the Spanish language, and were +intended for circulation amongst the Christians of Tangier, to whom they +might be serviceable, as they all understood the language. + +It was night, and I was seated in the _wustuddur_ of Joanna Correa, in +company with Pascual Fava, the Genoese. The old man’s favourite subject +of discourse appeared to be religion, and he professed unbounded love for +the Saviour, and the deepest sense of gratitude for his miraculous +atonement for the sins of mankind. I should have listened to him with +pleasure had he not smelt very strongly of liquor, and by certain +incoherences of language and wildness of manner given indications of +being in some degree the worse for it. Suddenly two figures appeared +beneath the doorway; one was that of a bareheaded and bare-legged Moorish +boy of about ten years of age, dressed in a _gelaba_. He guided by the +hand an old man, whom I at once recognized as one of the Algerines, the +good Moslems of whom the old _mahasni_ had spoken in terms of praise in +the morning whilst we ascended the street of the Siarrin. He was very +short of stature and dirty in his dress; the lower part of his face was +covered with a stubbly white beard; before his eyes he wore a large pair +of spectacles, from which he evidently received but little benefit, as he +required the assistance of the guide at every step. The two advanced a +little way into the _wustuddur_, and there stopped. Pascual Fava no +sooner beheld them, than assuming a jovial air he started nimbly up, and +leaning on his stick, for he had a bent leg, limped to a cupboard, out of +which he took a bottle and poured out a glass of wine, singing in the +broken kind of Spanish used by the Moors of the coast— + + “Argelino, + Moro fino, + No beber vino, + Ni comer tocino.” {382} + +He then handed the wine to the old Moor, who drank it off, and then, led +by the boy, made for the door without saying a word. + +“_Hade mushe halal_,” {383a} said I to him with a loud voice. + +“_Cul shee halal_,” {383b} said the old Moor, turning his sightless and +spectacled eyes in the direction from which my voice reached him. “Of +everything which God has given, it is lawful for the children of God to +partake.” + +“Who is that old man?” said I to Pascual Fava, after the blind and the +leader of the blind had departed. “Who is he!” said Pascual; “who is he! +He is a merchant now, and keeps a shop in the Siarrin, but there was a +time when no bloodier pirate sailed out of Algier. That old blind wretch +has cut more throats than he has hairs in his beard. Before the French +took the place he was the _rais_ or captain of a frigate, and many was +the poor Sardinian vessel which fell into his hands. After that affair +he fled to Tangier, and it is said that he brought with him a great part +of the booty which he had amassed in former times. Many other Algerines +came hither also, or to Tetuan, but he is the strangest guest of them +all. He keeps occasionally very extraordinary company for a Moor, and is +rather over-intimate with the Jews. Well, that’s no business of mine; +only let him look to himself. If the Moors should once suspect him, it +were all over with him. Moors and Jews, Jews and Moors! Oh my poor +sins, my poor sins, that brought me to live amongst them!— + + “‘Ave maris stella, + Dei Mater alma, + Atque semper virgo, + Felix cœli porta!’” {383c} + +He was proceeding in this manner when I was startled by the sound of a +musket. + +“That is the retreat,” said Pascual Fava. “It is fired every night in +the _soc_ at half-past eight, and it is the signal for suspending all +business, and shutting up. I am now going to close the doors, and +whosoever knocks, I shall not admit them till I know their voice. Since +the murder of the poor Genoese last year, we have all been particularly +cautious.” + +Thus had passed Friday, the sacred day of the Moslems, and the first +which I had spent in Tangier. I observed that the Moors followed their +occupations as if the day had nothing particular in it. Between twelve +and one, the hour of prayer in the mosque, the gates of the town were +closed, and no one permitted either to enter or go out. There is a +tradition current amongst them, that on this day, and at this hour, their +eternal enemies, the Nazarenes, will arrive to take possession of their +country; on which account they hold themselves prepared against a +surprisal. + + + + +GLOSSARY. + + +In the following pages a translation only has been given, as a rule, of +the Romany words, but references have been added which will enable _los +del aficion_ to acquire fuller knowledge elsewhere. It is only right to +state that for any philological theories advanced in this part of the +Glossary the late Mr. Burke is not responsible.—H. W. G. + + LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS. + +A. Ascoli, Zigeunerisches. 1865. +F. Francisque-Michel, Le Pays Basque. 1857. +G. Journal of the Gypsy Lore Society. 1888–1892. +Gr. Groome, In Gipsy Tents. 1880. +H. Hidalgo, Romances de Germanía. 1779. +J. Jimenez, Vocabulario del Dialecto Jitano. 1853. +Lel. Leland, The Gypsies. +LL. Borrow, Romano Lavo-Lil. 1888. +M. Miklosich, Ueber die Mundarten und die Wanderungen der + Zigeuner Europa’s. 1872–1880. +McR. MacRitchie, The Gypsies of India. 1886. +P. Pott, Die Zigeuner in Europa und Asien. 1844–5. +Pp. Paspati, Etudes sur les Tchinghianés ou Bohémiens de + l’Empire Ottoman. 1870. +R. De Rochas, Les Parias de France et d’Espagne. 1876. +S. Smith, Tent Life with English Gypsies in Norway. 1873. +SC. Smart and Crofton, The Dialect of the English Gypsies. +W. Wlislocki, Die Sprache der transsilvanischen Zigeuner. + 1884. +Z. Borrow, The Zincali, 3rd edit. 1843. + +A. _Arab._ O! _A sidi_, “_O my lord_!” + +Á. _Span._ and _Port._ To. + +ABAJAR. _Span_. To descend. + +ACÁNA. _Rom._ Now. P. ii. 124; A. 21; W. 70. + +ADUANA. _Span._ The custom-house. Fr. _la douane_, from Arab. _diwán_; +either as a council or as an account-book. + +ADUN. _Hebr._ Lord; _Adon_. + +AFICION. _Span._ Affection. _Los del aficion_, “those of the +predilection,” persons addicted to the gypsies and their language. Z. +ii. 58. + +AFRANCESADO. _Span._ Frenchified. + +AGOA. _Port._ Water. Span. _agua_. + +AGUADOR. _Span._ A water-carrier. + +AGUARDIENTE. _Span._ _Agua ardiente_, fire-water; coarse native spirit; +Spanish brandy. + +ALAMEDA. _Span._ A public promenade in or near a town, planted with +trees. Lit. a place of poplars, from Span. _álamo_, a poplar. + +ALCAHUETE. _Span._ A spy; a pimp. Arab. _al ḳawwād_. + +ALCALÁ. _Span._ The fort. Arab, _al-ḳal‘ah_. + +ALCALDE. _Span._ The mayor or chief magistrate of a town or village. +Arab. _al ḳádi_, the judge. + +ALCALDE MAYOR. The chief magistrate of a district. + +ALCAYDE. _Span._ A governor of a castle or fortress. Arab. _al ḳáid_, +the general. In more modern parlance, the governor of a prison, a +jailer. + +ALCAZAR. _Span._ A castle; palace; a fortress. Arab. _al ḳaṣr_. + +ALCORNOQUE. _Span._ The cork tree, _Quercus suber_. + +ALDEA. _Span_. and _Port._ A village. + +ALECRIM. _Port._ Rosemary. A word said to be of Arabic origin, perhaps +_al karím_, a precious thing. The Spanish _romero_, or pilgrim flower +(see note, i. 47). The English word is said to be derived from _ros +marinus_, dew of the sea. + +ALEM. _Port._ Beyond. _Alemtejo_, the district beyond the Tagus. + +ALFANDEGA. _Port._ Custom-house. The Arab. _funduḳ_, a large house. + +ALFORJAS, LAS. _Span._ Saddle-bags. Arab. _al khurj_. + +ALGIBE. _Span._ A vaulted subterranean cistern for storing water. +Arab. _jubb_, a reservoir. + +ALGUACIL or ALGUAZIL. _Span._ A constable, or peace-officer. Arab. _al +wazir_, the vizier, governor, deputy, or minister. + +ALHAJA. _Span._ Any precious article, a jewel. Probably from the Arab, +_al-hadja_. + +ALHAMA. Stated by Borrow (i. 394) to be a Moorish word, meaning “warm +baths.” Apparently the Arab, _al ḥammām_. + +ALKHEIR. _Arab._ Of good. + +ALMA. _Span._ and _Port._ Soul. + +ALMOCREVES. _Port._ Muleteers or carriers. A word of Arabic origin, +_al mukāri_, like the Spanish _arriero._ + +ALQUILADOR. _Span. and Port._ A letter on hire of anything, especially +of horses. _Alquilar_, in Spanish, signifies to give or lend on hire. +_Alquiler_, to take or borrow for reward. The converse, _inquiler_. + +ALTO. _Span._ and _Port._ High. + +AMIGA. _Span._ and _Port._ A mistress, or concubine. Lit. a female +friend. + +AMIGO. _Span._ and _Port._ A friend. + +ANCIÑA ANCIÑACO. _Basque_. The ancient of the ancient. + +ANDALOU. _Rom._ An Andalusian. + +ANDRÉ. _Rom._ In. P. ii. 56. + +ANISE-BRANDY. _Eng._ A cordial, something like the French _anisette_. +The anise (_Pimpinella anisum_) is largely cultivated in Spain, where it +is known as _anis_. The seed is dried and exported, the aniseed of the +English cake-makers. + +AOUD. _Arab._ According to Borrow, a stallion. It is the Moorish +‘_aud_ = horse. + +AQUEL. _Span._ That. + +ARCO. _Span._ and _Port._ A bow, an arch. + +ARDOA. Guipuzcoan and Biscayan for _arno_,_ arnoa_, wine, the final _a_ +being the definite article. + +ARGELINO. _Span._ A native of Algiers. + +ARMADA. _Span._ and _Port._ A fleet, or navy. + +AROMÁLI. _Rom._ Truly. _Arromales_ = _caramba_. J. + +ARRIERO. _Span._ Muleteer; one who cries _arrhé_ or _harré_, Arabic +“Gee up!” The older form of _Harriero_, given in the Dictionary of the +Spanish Academy, more clearly preserves this etymology. + +ARROBA. _Span._ and _Port._ A weight equal to about 25 lbs. English. +Arab, _ar ruba_‘, a quarter. + +ARROYO. _Span._ A brook, stream. + +ARTESANO. _Span._ Artisan, workman. + +ASHOR. _Hebr._ Jewish feast of the tenth (day), ‘_āsor_. It is really +the Arabic ‘_ashūrā_. + +ATAJO. _Span._ A short cut, material or moral; an expedient of any +kind. Lit. a tying; _atar_, to tie. + +ATALAYA. _Span._ A watch-tower. Port. _atalaia_. A word of Arabic +origin; _aṭ-ṭalí‘ah_, a view. + +ATTAR. _Arab._ Essence. More correctly, ‘_aṭar_. Frequently in +combination. The Eng. _otto_. + +AUSLANDRA. _Milan._ The meaning of this word is given by Borrow himself +as “to roam about in a dissipated manner.” It is obviously the Germ. +_Ausland_, “a foreign country,” made into an Italian verb. On the +authority of the native of Como, whom Borrow met at Cerrig y Drudion, it +was considered a vulgar word, even in the _gergo_ of the Milanese, and +that it is so may be proved by a reference to Cherubini, _Vocabolario +Milanese-Italiano_, s.v. _Slándra_, _Slandrà_. + +AUTO DA FÉ. _Port._ Span. _auto de fé_. Execution of persons condemned +by the Inquisition. + +AVELLANA. _Span._ A filbert. + +AYANA. _Arab._ According to Borrow, a locust. It is not an ordinary +Arabic word, possibly of some North African dialect. + +AZABACHE. _Span._ Jet. The Arab, _as-sabaj_. + +AZABACHERIA. _Span._ Jet-market. + +AZINHEIRA. _Port._ The holm-oak. + +AZUMBRE. _Span._ A measure for liquids, the eighth of an _arroba_, +equal to about half a gallon. From the Arab. _ath-thumn_ = the eighth. + + * * * * * + +BAB. _Arab._ Gate. _Bab del Faz_, gate of Fez. + +BACALHÃO. _Port._ (In _Span._ BACALLAO or ABADEJO). Salt cod, commonly +imported from the Newfoundland coast. + +BAHAR. _Arab._ Sea. + +BAHI or BAJI. _Rom._ Fortune. _Penar baji_, _decir la buena ventura_, +to tell fortunes. According to Borrow, the Sanscrit and Persian _baḥkt_. + +BAKH, BOK. _Rom._ Luck. _Kosko bakh_, “Good luck to you!” P. ii. 398; +A. 47; M. vii. 14. + +BALAD. _Arab._ Land. Also _beled_. + +BALICHÓ. _Rom._ A hog. P. ii. 420; A. 54; M. vii. 15. + +BAR. _Aram._ Son. + +BAR. _Rom._ A stone. P. ii. 409; M. vii. 16. + +BAR LACHÍ. _Rom._ The loadstone; a gypsy charm or talisman. Lit. “the +good stone.” See LACHÓ. + +BARIA. _Rom._ Used by Borrow in ch. x., and given in Z. ii. 147, as +_Germanía_, or thieves’ slang, for a gold _onza_ (q.v.). Cf. _varia_ = +weight. A. 12. It is also the plural of _bar_, used by English gypsies +for a sovereign. The correct Gitano for _onza_ is _jara_. + +BARIBÚ, BARIBUTRE, BARIBUSTRE. _Rom._ Plenty, much. P. ii. 400; M. +vii. 17. + +BARO. _Rom._ Great. _Len Baro_ = the great river, the Guadalquivir. +_Hokkano Baro_ = the great trick. See HOK. P. ii. 411; A. 59; M. vii. +17. + +BARRA. _Arab._ Outside; out of the town. See SOC. + +BARRAGANERIA. _Span._ Concubinage. See note, i. 157. + +BARRANCO, BARRANCA. _Span._ A fissure in a hill, a deep cleft, made by +the action of water; a precipice. + +BARRETE. _Span._ A helmet, cap. + +BARRIO. _Span._ One of the quarters or districts into which a large +town is divided. Fr. _quartier_. + +BATU, BATO. _Rom._ Father. Perhaps from the Russ. _batuschca_, q.v. +In thieves’ slang, a prison governor or jailer. P. ii. 430; F. 145; G. +i. 61; J. + +BATUSCHCA, BATUSHKA. _Russ._ Little father. A term of endearment or +familiar address, something like the Span. _tio_, uncle. + +BEBER. _Span._ and _Port._ To drink. + +BECORESH. _Hebr._ I.e. _Epikores_ = Epicurus, selected by Jewish +writers as a type of insolent atheism. + +BEDEYA. _Arab._ An open waistcoat. More correctly, _bad‘iyya_. + +BELAD. _Hebr._ In the power of. + +BELED. _Arab._ Country. Also _balad_. + +BELLOTA. _Span._ An acorn. The Portuguese _bolota_; Arab, _balūt_. + +BEN, plur. BENI. _Hebr._ and _Arab._ Son. + +BENDITO. _Span._ and _Port._ Blessed, praised. + +BENG, BENGUE, BENGUI. _Rom._ The devil; also any demon, or evil spirit. +P. ii. 407; M. vii. 19. As to the meaning, frog or toad, see G. i. 118. + +BERAKA. _Hebr._ A blessing. + +BESTI, BESTIS. _Rom._ A seat, chair, or saddle. P. ii. 428; M. vii. +20. Borrow, however, seems to use it as a slang form of the following. + +BESTIA. _Span._ An animal. “You brute!” + +BIRDOCHE. _Rom._ Used by Borrow in ch. ix. for a stage-coach or +_galera_, q.v. It is probably connected with _bedo_, _berdo_, a cart. +Z. ii. * 17. Eng. Rom. _vardo_. See P. ii. 80; A. 68; M. viii. 96. + +BOCA. _Span._ and _Port._ Mouth. + +BODA, BODAS. _Span._ and _Port._ Marriage, a wedding. + +BOGAMANTE, BOGAVANTE. _Span._ The slang name for a large lobster; orig. +the stroke-oar of a galley; _bogar_ = to row, _avante_ = in front. + +BOHÉMIEN. _Fr._ A gypsy. + +BOLOTA. _Port._ (_Span._ BELLOTA.) An acorn. + +BOLSA. _Span._ and _Port._ (1) A purse. (2) The Exchange. + +BOMBARDÓ. _Rom._ A lion. Used also of the gulf usually called the Gulf +of Lyons, but in French La Golfe du Lion, or “Gulf of the Lion,” from its +stormy water. Lyons on the Rhone may have given the English, but +certainly not the French, name to the bay. P. ii. 432. + +BONANZA. _Span._ Fair weather. See note, ii. 273. + +BONITO. _Span._ and _Port._ Pretty. + +BORRACHO. _Span._ and _Port._ A drunkard. _Borracha_ is a wine-skin, +or leathern bottle. Hence Shakespeare’s _Borachio_. + +BORRICO. _Span._ Dimin. of _Burro_, an ass. + +BOTA. _Span._ A leather wine-bottle or bag; usually made of the skin of +a pig for storing purposes, of goatskin for travelling. A glass bottle +is called _frasco_ or _botella_. + +BRASERO. _Span._ Brazier; brass or copper pan to hold live coals. + +BRETIMA, BRETEMA, BRETOMA. _Gal._ A low-lying mist or fog. When thick +and damp it is called—also in Galician—_mexona_. + +BRIBON, BRIBONAZO. _Span._ A vagrant, vagabond, or impostor. The +termination in _bribonazo_ does not express action, as in such words as +_calmazo_, q.v., but augmentation. + +BRIBONERIA. _Span._ Knavery, rascality. + +BROA. _Port._ and _Gal._ BARONA. _Span._ and _Gal._ BRONA. _Gal._ A +bread made of a mixture of maize (2 parts), rye (4), millet (1), and +panic-grass (1). + +BROTOBORO. _Rom._ First. Grk. πρῶτος. _Brotorbo_, J. + +BRUJO or BRUXO. _Span._, _Port._, and _Gal._ A sorcerer, or wizard. + +BUCKRA. _Arab._ _Bikr_, a virgin; used (ii. 357) for the Blessed Virgin +Mary. + +BUENO. _Span._ Good. _Buenas noches_, “good night.” + +BUFA. _Rom._ A manger, crib. P. ii. 433. + +BUL, BULLÁTI. _Rom._ The _anus_. P. ii. 422. + +BURRA. _Span._ and _Port._ Jackass; she-ass. + +BUSNÓ. _Rom._ A man who is not a gypsy, a Gentile. P. ii. 434; Pp. +172; M. vii. 26. + + * * * * * + +CA. _Span._ An abbreviated form of CARAJO, _q.v._ + +CABALGADURA. _Span._ A sumpter horse or mule; beast of burden. + +CABALLEJO, or CABALLUELO. _Span._ Pony. + +CABALLERIA. _Span._ Is used either of a single horse, mule, or ass used +for riding, as the Fr. _monture_, or for a number of such beasts +together. The word in the plural also signifies chivalry or knighthood. + +CABALLERO. _Span._ Lit. a cavalier, but constantly used either as a +mode of polite address, “Sir,” or in speaking of a gentleman, whether +mounted or on foot. + +CABAÑA. _Span._ (1) A shepherd’s hut or cabin. (2) A flock, or +assemblage of flocks, of sheep, under the charge of a _mayoral_, driven +to and from the wild pasture lands of Estremadura. See note, i. 146. + +CACHARRO. _Span._ A coarse earthen pan or pot. + +CACHAS. _Rom._ Shears, scissors. Z. i. 244; P. ii. 99; _cachais_, R. +295. + +CACHIMANI. _Rom._ A wine-shop, or tavern. _Cachiman_, J. See P. ii. +117; M. i. 19. + +CAES. _Port._ A wharf. + +CAFILA, rather ḲĀFILAH. _Arab._ A caravan. + +CALABOZO. _Span._ Dungeon or underground cell. _Calabozero_, the +keeper thereof; turnkey. + +CALASH. _Eng._ A two-wheeled carriage with a hood; a buggy. Span. +_calesa_; Port. _caleça_; Fr. _calèche_. + +CALDAS. _Span._ and _Port._ Warm Baths. Used most frequently in +combination as a place name; e.g. Caldas de Reyes, called by Borrow (i. +394) Caldas de los Reyes, in Galicia. + +CALÉS. _Rom._ Plur. of CALÓ, CALORÓ. A gypsy; lit. a black and dark +man. See CALÓ. + +CALESERO. _Span._ (1) The driver of a _calesa_. (2) The driver of any +carriage or cart. + +CALLAR. _Span._ To be silent. _Calla boca_, “Hold your tongue!” + +CALLARDÓ, GALLARDÓ. _Rom._ A black man, mulatto. See CALÓ. + +CALLE. _Span._ A street. + +CALLEE, CALLÍ. _Rom._ Fem. of CALÓ, _q.v._ + +CALLICASTE. _Rom._ (1) Yesterday. (2) Tomorrow. So in English Rom. +_cóllico_, _káliko_. P. ii. 107; LL. 7. + +CALMAZO. _Span._ A calm at sea. Lit. an “attack” or “stroke” of calm, +such being the force of the termination _azo_; as _puñal_, a poignard; +_puñalazo_, the blow of a poignard. + +CALÓ, CALORÓ. _Rom._ One of the _kalo rat_, or black blood; a gypsy. +P. ii. 106; A. 44; M. vii. 71; G. i. 178. + +CAMARERA. _Span._ A lady’s maid, chambermaid. + +CAMPIÑA. _Span._ The open country, the fields. Dimin. of CAMPO. + +CAMPO. _Span._ and _Port._ The country. In the mouths of +English-speaking Argentines it has become “the camp,” conveying no idea +whatever of the Anglo-Indian “camp,” or “marching” with tents, or +“camping out.” + +CAMPO SANTO. _Span._, _Port._, and _Ital._ A churchyard, cemetery. + +CANALLIS. See JARA CANALLIS. + +CANDORY, plur. CANDORÉ. _Rom._ Christian. P. ii. 125; McR. 46. + +CANÓNIGO. _Span._ A canon or prebendary of a cathedral. + +CAPATAZ. _Span._ and _Port._ Not _capitaz_. A head man; overseer; +ganger; steward on a farm. From Lat. _caput_. + +CAPILLA. _Span._ A chapel. + +CAPITULAR. _Span._ Belonging to the chapter. _Sala capitular_, +chapter-house. + +CARAJO. _Span._ “The great oath of Spain, which ought never to be +written or pronounced in full, practically forms the foundation of the +language of the lower orders; it is a most ancient remnant of the phallic +abjuration of the evil eye, the dreaded fascination which still perplexes +the minds of Orientals, and is not banished from Spanish and Neapolitan +superstitions. The word terminates in _ajo_, on which stress is laid; +the _j_ is pronounced with a most Arabic guttural aspiration. The word +_ajo_ means also garlic, which is quite as often in Spanish mouths, and +is exactly what Hotspur liked—a ‘mouth-filling oath,’ energetic and +Michael Angelesque.”—Ford’s _Spain_, Introd. p. 35. For “the evil eye,” +see; Z. i. 138. + +CARALS. Catalan for CARAJO, _q.v._ + +CARAMBA. _Span._ A polite modification of the grosser CARAJO, _q.v._ + +CARBONERO. _Span._ A charcoal-burner; also a collier. + +CARCEL. _Span._ A prison. + +CARCELERO, CARCELERA. _Span._ A male or female jailer; or the latter +may be merely the wife of a jailer. + +CARLINO, CARLISTA. _Span._ A partisan of Don Carlos. + +CARLO. _Rom._ Heart. P. ii. 125. It also means “throat,” the only +meaning in English Rom. P. ii. 96; A. 66; Pp. 299; SC. 91. + +CARRACHO. _Gal._ A tick, or small parasite found on dogs and cattle. +_Carracha_ is a somewhat similar pest of the human body. The word, which +is not Spanish, is used by Borrow as an expletive, instead of the coarser +CARAJO, _q.v._ + +CARRASCAL. _Span._ and _Port._ A plantation or grove of the following. + +CARRASCO. _Span._ and _Port._ The _ilex_, or evergreen oak. + +CARRETA. _Span._ and _Port._ A long and narrow cart. + +CARRETERA. _Span._ A high-road. Fr. _voie carrossable_. + +CARRONADE. _O. Eng._ A short cannon of large bore, usually carried on +board ship. The word has nothing to do with cannon, but is derived from +the Scotch town of Carron, in Stirlingshire, where these pieces were +first made in 1779. They were not used after 1852, and the name is +obsolete. + +CARTA. _Span._ and _Port._ A letter. + +CASA. _Span._ and _Port._ House. + +CASPITA. _Span._ “Wonderful!” Milder than CARAMBA, _q.v._ + +CASTELLANO. _Span._ A Castilian. _Hablar Castellano_, to talk Spanish. + +CASTUMBA. _Rom._ Castile. + +CAVALGADURA. _Gal._ See CABALGADURA. + +CAVALHEIRO. _Port._ See CABALLERO. + +CÉAD. _Irish_. A hundred. + +CERRADA. _Span._ and _Port._ Closed, concealed, dark. + +CERRO. _Span._ and _Port._ A hill, hillock. + +CHABÍ. _Rom._ A girl. See CHABÓ. + +CHABÓ, CHABÉ, CHABORÓ. _Rom._ A boy, youth, fellow. P. ii. 181; A. 51; +Pp. 528; M. vii. 30; McR. 100. Possibly the origin of the English slang, +“chap.” + +CHACHIPÉ. _Rom._ The truth. P. i. 138; ii. 178; A. 29; Pp. 523; M. +vii. 27. + +CHAI. _Rom._ Irreg. plur. of CHABÓ, _q.v._ Chaps; used commonly for +gypsies. + +CHAL. _Rom._ A lad, boy, fellow; possibly the same as chiel, childe. +_Rómano-chal_, a gypsy. McR. 98. + +CHALI DEL BAHAR. _Arab._ _Bahar_ is “the sea” in Arabic; _shát_ is “the +shore.” _Chali_ is possibly a misprint for this. + +CHALAN. _Span._ A jockey or horse-dealer. + +CHARDÍ, CHÁTI. _Rom._ A fair. I cannot find this word except in Borrow +(Z. ii. * 36), though J. gives _chandí_. Borrow derives it from Hind, +_chhetr_ = field. If so it is perhaps connected with _char_, _chor_ = +grass. P. ii. 198; Pp. 529; M. vii. 29. Can it be the Persian +_chatrí_—canopy, tent? + +CHARIPÉ, CHERIPEN. _Rom._ Bed, or bedstead. Hind. _charpoy_ = that +which has four feet or legs. Borrow (Z. ii.* 37) wrongly suggests the +Grk. κρεββάτι, though giving, as elsewhere (LL. 100), the right +derivation. P. ii. 203; M. vii. 32. + +CHEGAR. _Port._ To arrive, land. + +CHENOURAIN. Synagogues. From _shanūra_, an Algerian or low Arabic word. + +CHI, CHICHÍ. _Rom._ Nothing. P. ii. 176; M. vii. 31. + +CHIBADO. _Rom._ Put into. From _chibar_, a word used in many senses. +P. ii. 184. + +CHICA. _Span._ Little girl. Properly the fem. of the adj. _chico_, +which is also used commonly for a boy, especially as a mode of address, +or to call attention, _hé_, _chico_! + +CHICOTITO. _Span._ Dimin. of _chico_. A little fellow, dwarf. + +CHIM. _Rom._ Kingdom, country. P. ii. 295; M. viii. 82; Z. ii. * 38; +and J. + +CHINDOMAR. _Rom._ A butcher. From _chinar_ = to cut. P. ii. 208; Pp. +538; M. vii. 33. + +CHINEL. _Rom._ A man of official position or rank. Especially an +_alguacil_. Russ. _chin_, rank. P. ii. 204. + +CHINOBARÓ. _Rom._ A head official. Compounded of CHIN and BARO, _q.v._ + +CHIPE. _Rom._ Tongue, speech. P. ii. 216; M. vii. 31; SC. 64. + +CHIRIA. Borrow gives this as Sanscrit for “bird,” but I cannot find his +authority. The Rom. word is _cziriklo_, _chiriclo_. See P. ii. 199. + +CHOR. _Rom._ _Subs._ a thief; _verb_, to steal. P. ii. 200; A. 46; Pp. +545–6; M. vii. 36. + +CHOZA. _Span._ A hut or small cottage. According to Dozy and Engelmann +it is the Arab. _khas_. + +CHULÍ, plur. CHULÉ. _Rom._ A dollar. Span. _peso fuerte_. Borrow uses +the word in his gypsy St. Luke, xv. 8, etc. P. ii. 205, has “_Chuli_ = +_Groschen_,” and suggests a connexion with _tchulo_ = thick. It is +tempting to compare the English slang “a thick ’un” = a sovereign. + +CHULÍ, CHURÍ. _Rom._ A knife. Hind. _churi_. P. ii. 210; Pp. 550; M. +vii. 39. The form with L is only found in Spanish. Pott suggests that +it is a corruption of _cuchillo_. In Z. ii. 148 it is given as +_Germanía_, or thieves’ slang, and is probably their alteration of the +correct _churí_. + +CHUQUEL. _Rom._ A dog. P. ii. 213; A. 64; Pp. 553; M. vii. 51; Z. ii. +* 132. + +CIERRA! _Span._ “Close!” The war-cry of the Castilian chivalry; more +fully, _Santiago_! _y cierra España_! + +CIERTO. _Span._ Sure, certain. + +CIERVO. _Span._ A stag. + +COCAL. _Rom._ A bone. P. ii. 92; A. 52; Pp. 289; M. vii. 85. + +COISA, COUSA. _Port._ A thing. + +COLEGIO. _Span._ A college. + +COMER. _Span._ and _Port._ To eat. + +COMITIVA. _Span._ and _Port._ Suite, following, company. + +COMMERCIO. _Port._ Commerce. _Span. comercio_. + +COMPANHEIRO. _Port._ Companion, comrade. + +COMPRAR. _Span._ and _Port._ To buy. + +COMUNERO. _Span._ A member or partisan of the Communities of Castile. +See Burke’s _Hist. of Spain_, ii. 316. + +CON. _Span._ With. + +CONCIUDADANO. _Span._ A fellow-citizen. + +CONDE. _Span._ and _Port._ A count, or earl. Lat. _comes_. A title at +one time greater than that of duke in Spain. See Burke’s _Hist. of +Spain_, i. 148. + +CONDENADO. _Span._ Condemned, damned. + +CONQUISTAR. _Span._ and _Port._ To conquer. + +CONSTITUCION. _Span._ Constitution; the constitution of 1812. + +CONTRABANDISTA. _Span_ and _Port._ A smuggler. + +CONVERSACION. _Span._ Conversation. As an interjection, “Folly! +rubbish!” + +COPITA. _Span._ A wine-glass, or small drinking-cup; dimin. of _copa_. + +COPLA. _Span._ and _Port._ A couplet, or a few lines of poetry. The +original Spanish of the lines quoted ii. 62 is as follows— + + “Un manco escribió una carta; + Un siego {395} la está mirando; + Un mudo la está leyendo; + Y un sordo la está escuchando.” + + (Rodriguez Marin, _Cantos Populares Españoles_, tom. iv. p. 364, No. + 7434.) + +CORAHAI or CORAJAI. _Rom._ The Moors of Northern Africa. P. ii. 127; +A. 27; Pp. 320; M. vii. 64. + +CORAHANÓ, fem. CORAHANÍ. _Rom._ A Moor. See CORAHAI. + +CORCHETE. _Span._ and _Port._ A catchpoll. Lit. a clasp; _corchetes_ +are “hooks and eyes.” + +CORÇO. _Gal._ A stag, or deer. + +CORDOVES. _Span._ Of or belonging to Cordova. + +CORREGIDOR. _Span._ A municipal magistrate. Orig. a _co-regidor_, or +joint administrator of the law; not, as Midshipman Easy and the Boatswain +decided, a _corrector_, though the word also has that signification in +Spanish. As regards the magistrate, the second _r_ is superfluous and +etymologically deceptive. + +CORRIDA. _Span._ and _Port._ A racecourse; bull-fight. + +CORTAMANGA. The word is not given in any dictionary that I have +consulted. Borrow evidently alludes to a vulgar and obscene gesture, +usually called _un corte de mangas_. It is made by bringing down the +right hand on the left forearm, and raising the left forearm, with the +middle finger of the left hand raised and the other fingers bent. It is +not under _corte_ or _manga_ either in Covarrubia or the 1730 edit. of +the _Dic. Acad. Esp._, or more recent ones, probably on account of its +indecent signification. I have never seen it written. The finger part +of the business is of course as old as the Romans, and survives still in +Italy. + +CORTE. _Span._ and _Port._ The king’s court; more particularly the city +where the court resides—thus the capital. Applied colloquially and in +commercial correspondence to Madrid, Lisbon, Rio Janeiro, etc. + +CORTEJO. _Span._ and _Port._ A lover. Orig. courtesy or homage. +_Cortejar_ = to do homage to. + +CORTES. _Span._ and _Port._ The estates of the realm, parliament. + +CORTIJO. _Span._ Farmhouse. + +COSAS. _Span._ Things. “_Cosas de España_,” “_Cosas de Inglaterra_,” +“_Cosas de los Ingleses_.” Colloquially equivalent to our, “How +Spanish!” “Quite English!” + +CRALLIS. _Rom._ King. The Slavonian _kral_. P. ii. 123; Pp. 296; M. +vii. 87. + +CREER. _Span._ To believe. _Yo lo creo_, “I believe you, my boy!” +“You bet!” + +CRIA. _Span._ and _Port._ A brood. + +CRISCOTE. _Rom._ A book. See GABICOTE. + +CRISTIANO. _Span._ Christian. Used in Spain for the Spanish language. + +CRISTINO. _Span._ A partisan of Queen Christina. + +CRUZ. _Span._ and _Port._ A cross; also the withers of a horse or mule. + +CRUZADO. _Span._ and _Port._ A coin worth about six shillings. See +Burke’s _Hist. of Spain_, ii. 286. + +CUADRILLA. _Span._ A band. + +CUARTO. _Span._ A copper coin of the value of four maravedis, or about +one English farthing. Lit. the fourth part of anything. + +CUENTA. _Span._ Bill, reckoning. + +CUESTA. _Span._ A hill, or mount. + +CUIDADO. _Span._ and _Port._ Care, anxiety. The Andalusians and +Gitanos say _cuidao_. + +CUL. _Arab._ Every, all. + +CURA. _Span._ and _Port._ Parish priest. Fr. _curé_; _not_ a “curate.” +The writer usually known as _El Cura de Fruime_ (i. 401) was D. Diego +Antonio Zernadas de Castro, born at Santiago in 1698. He wrote various +works in verse and prose, a complete edition of which, in seven volumes, +was published by Ibarra (Madrid, 1778–81), and was followed by another, +in three volumes, in 1783–9–90. A biography of the author, by D. +Fernando Fulgosio, appeared in the _Revista de España_, _tomos_ 27, 28 +(1872). There was another _Cura de Fruime_, D. Antonio Francisco de +Castro, who was also a poet, and who died in 1836. + +CURELAR. _Rom._ To do business. P. ii. 111; Pp. 281; M. vii. 88. + +CURELÓ. _Rom._ Trouble, pain. P. ii. 115. See CURELAR. + +CURIOSO. _Span._ and _Port._ Inquiring, curious. + + * * * * * + +DADAS. _Span._ and _Port._ Given. From _dar_. + +DAI. _Rom._ Mother. P. ii. 309; Pp. 194; M. vii. 40. + +DAOUD. _Arab._ Light. Arab. _ḍau_. _Daoud Scharr_ = _ḍau ash-sharr_, +light of mischief. + +DAR. _Arab._ A house; often found in composition as _Dar-sinah_, _Dar +ṣinā_‘_ah_ (ii. 367), the house of the arts, or handicrafts; _Dar-dwag_, +_Dar dabbagh_ (ii. 371), the house of the bark, or tannery. + +DEHESA. _Span._ Pasture; applied more particularly to large open tracts +of country where the cattle can roam at large. + +DEMONIO. _Span._ and _Port._ Demon, devil. + +DENHO. _Gal._ The devil; used familiarly, “the deuce.” + +DESEMBARCAR. _Span._ and _Port._ To disembark. + +DESESPERADO. _Span._ and _Port._ Desperate; a desperado. + +DESHONESTO. _Span._ and _Port._ Not “dishonest,” but “immodest, +lascivious.” + +DESPACHO. _Span._ An office; a _depôt_. Used also of certain shops, +such as the bakers, tobacco-sellers, and others. + +DESPOBLADO. _Span._ Desert, or waste lands. Lit. depopulated; the true +history is seen in the etymology. The word is applied to uncultivated +desert, or uninhabited parts of the country, grazed for the most part by +half wild sheep or cattle. + +DESPUES. _Span._ Afterwards. _Hasta despues_, “Au revoir.” + +DETRAS. _Span._ Behind. See TIRAR. + +DIESTRO. _Span._ Skilful, dexterous; as a substantive, a performer at a +bull-feast, also a fencer. + +DIOS. _Span._ God. + +DISPARATE. _Span._ and _Port._ A blunder, or extravagance. As an +interjection, “Stuff and nonsense!” + +DJMAH. The name of a tower in Tangier. Apparently the Arab. _Jami_’ = +mosque. + +DOIRO. _Port._ Of gold, _de oiro_ or _ouro_. + +DON, DOÑA. _Span._ DOM, DONA. _Port._ Lord; lady. + +DONOSTIAN. _Basque_. San Sebastian. + +DORSO. _Span._ and _Port._ The back. + +DOSTA. _Rom._ Enough! Span. _basta_! P. ii. 308; M. vii. 45. + +DOUBLOON. _Eng._ A gold coin. _Span. doblon_. See Burke’s _Hist. of +Spain_, ii. 284. + +DRAO. _Rom._ Poison. P. ii. 316; Pp. 215; M. vii. 45. + +DROMÁLIS. _Rom._ Carriers, muleteers, men of the road. P. ii. 319. +See DRUN. + +DRUN, DROM. _Rom._ A road. Grk. δρόμος. P. ii. 318; Pp. 215; M. vii. +46. + +DRUNGRUJE, better DRONGRUGI or DRUNJI. _Rom._ The king’s highway; also +a bridle-path. See DRUN. + +DUENDE. _Span._ and _Port._ A ghost, or hobgoblin. In _Germanía_, or +thieves’ slang = the watch, patrol. + +DUFFEL. _O. Eng._ A coarse woollen cloth, said to have been first made +at Duffel, near Amsterdam. + +DUROTUNÓ. A shepherd. Probably connected with _dur_ = far, P. ii. 317; +M. vii. 48. It is worth noticing that we find _Gorotuné_ = a native of +Estremadura, which looks like a pun, P. i. 54, so too J., who has also +_oroturné_ = a mountaineer, which suits the idea. + +DWAG. See DAR. + + * * * * * + +E, Es. _Rom._ Genitive, sing. and plur., of the article _O_. + +E. _Port._ And. + +EIDRI. See SHILLAM. + +ELLEGREN. Stated by Borrow to be a Scand. word, meaning “elfin plant,” +but the dictionaries do not give it. _Elle_, however, in composition = +fairy, in Danish; and _gren_ = bough, in Danish, Norse, and Swedish. + +EMBÉO. _Rom._ A book. P. ii. 62. + +EMBUSTERO. _Span._ Impostor, cheat, schemer; from _embuste_, a deceit, +false or fraudulent scheme, snare. + +ENCINA. _Span._ An oak. + +ENDEMONIADO. _Span._ Possessed by the devil. + +ENGANCHAR. _Span._ To enlist as a soldier. Prim. to hook; _gancho_, a +hook. + +ENSAYO. _Span._ An essay, attempt. + +ENTENDER. _Span._ To understand. + +ENTERO. _Span._ An _entire_ horse, or stallion. As an adjective, +entire, perfect, complete. + +ERRATE. _Rom._ A respectful appellation of the gypsy race, used by them +of their own race. From Rom. _rat_, blood; the people of the same blood; +our blood relations. P. ii. 272; Pp. 457; M. viii. 56. + +ERRAY. _Rom._ Gentleman. More commonly, _rai_; in Eng. Rom., _rye_. +P. ii. 264; Pp. 453; M. viii. 54. + +ERREGUIÑA. _Basque._ Queen. Borrow is mistaken in connecting this word +with Sanscrit. It is simply the Lat. _regina_. + +ERUDITO. _Span._ and _Port._ Learned. + +ESCAPADO. _Span._ and _Port._ Escaped, a runaway. + +ESCLIVITUD. _Span._ Slavery. + +ESCOCÉS. _Span._ Scotch. + +ESCONDIDO. _Span._ and _Port._ _Adj._ hidden. + +ESCOPETA. _Span._ and _Port._ A gun. + +ESCRIBANO. _Span._ A notary, or his clerk. Lit. a writer. + +ESCUCHAR. _Span._ To listen. _Escuchad_! “Listen!” + +ESCUELA. _Span._ A school. + +ESO. _Span._ That. _Que es eso_? “What’s that?” + +ESPAÑA. _Span._ Spain. See i. 341. + +ESPAÑOL. Spanish. + +ESPINAL, ESPINAR. _Span._ A thorny thicket; place of thorns. + +ESPINGARDA. _Span._ and _Port._ A musket. + +ESPINHEIRO. _Port._ A thorn-tree. + +ESTADEA. _Port._ ESTADAIÑA. _Gal._ Dimin. ESTADINHA. (1) A skeleton, +or death’s-head; a nocturnal procession of the spirits of the dead. (2) +A witches’ “sabbath;” for which last the Galician _compaña_ is also used. + +ESTALAGEM. _Port._ An inn. + +ESTAR. _Span._ and _Port._ To be. + +ESTARIPEL. _Rom._ A prison. P. ii. 246; Pp. 146. SC. 141. + +ESTRANGERO. _Span._ Strange, foreign. + +ESTREMOU. _Rom._ ESTREMEÑO. _Span._ An inhabitant of the province of +Estremadura. + +EUSCARRA. Basque. Used by Borrow (ch. xxxvii.) for the Basque name of +their own tongue; more commonly, _Escualdun_, _Escualdunac_; a word in +any case of very uncertain origin. See Burke’s _Hist. of Spain_, vol. i. +App. I., THE BASQUES. + +EXEMPLO. _Span._ and _Port._ Example, pattern. _Por exemplo_, for +instance. + +EXTENDERSE. _Span._ To extend, stretch. + + * * * * * + +FABRICA. _Span._ and _Port._ Manufactory. + +FACCIOSO. _Span._ As an adjective, factious; more often used by Borrow +as a substantive, with the special signification, in the years 1830–1840, +of a disaffected or factious person; a rebel; a Carlist. + +FÁILTE. _Irish_. Welcomes. + +FAJA, FAXA. _Span._ and _Port._ A thick waist-band, usually of silk, +often red, and a characteristic portion of the dress of a great majority +of Spaniards. The Indian _kamarband_. From the Lat. _fascia_, a girth, +or band. + +FANGO. _Span._ Mire, mud. + +FAROL. _Span._ and _Port._ Strictly speaking, a lantern; used by Borrow +for FARO, a lighthouse. They are, of course, equally the ancient Grk. +φάρος. + +FATO. _Port._ A herd; a multitude. Span. _hato_. + +FELOUK, FELOQUE. _Eng._ A boat, felucca. Arab. _faluka_, _falak_ = +ship. + +FERIOUL. _Arab._ A sort of shawl thrown over the shoulders. Arab. +_farwāl_. + +FIDALGO. _Port._ A gentleman. The Spanish hidalgo = _filius alicujus_, +the son of some one. + +FILIMICHA. _Rom._ The gallows. Found in Borrow, and J.; Pott, ii. 394, +simply quotes it from the former. + +FINO. _Span._ and _Port._ Fine, excellent, sharp. + +FONDA. _Span._ Hotel. According to Diez, from Latin _funda_, a sling, +or a purse, which has also given the French _bourse_ and Spanish _bolsa_, +an assembly of paying persons. See POSADA. + +FORA. _Port._ and _Gal._ Outside, without. + +FORO, FOROS. _Rom._ City, or town. P. ii. 393; Pp. 234; M. vii. 53. + +FORTE. _Port._ Strong. + +FREGONA. _Span._ A scullery maid. + +FRIOLERA. _Span._ A trifle. Lat. _futilitas_. + +FUENTE. _Span._ A fount, spring. + +FUERON. _Span._ They were. From _ser_. + +FUEROS. _Span._ Local privileges. + +FUNCION. _Span._ A solemnity; festival; public assemblage of people to +do or see some important act. In military language, an action; then +colloquially, “a row.” The barbarous English adaptation, _function_, is +convenient, and is rapidly gaining ground. + + * * * * * + +GABARDINE. _O. Eng._ A long coat, or cloak, usually applied to the +distinctive dress worn by the Jews under compulsion. Said to be from the +Spanish and Old French _gaban_, a great coarse cloak with a hood, a word +itself supposed to be connected with _capa_. + +GABICOTE. _Rom._ Book. Borrow seems the only authority for this word. +J. has _gascote_. P. ii. 145. + +GABINÉ. _Rom._ A Frenchman. P. i. 54, ii. 145. + +GACHAPLA. _Rom._ A couplet, in poetry. Span. _copla_. P. ii. 41. + +GACHÓ. _Rom._ Any one who is not a gypsy; the same as Rom. _busnó_. P. +ii. 129; Pp. 235; M. vii. 53; McR. 93. + +GALERA. _Span._ A long cart without springs; the sides are lined with +matting, while beneath hangs a loose open net, as under the _calesinas_ +of Naples, in which lies and barks a horrid dog, who keeps a cerberus +watch over iron pots and sieves, and suchlike gypsy utensils, and who is +never to be conciliated.—Ford’s _Spain_, Introd. p. 37. + +GALLEGO. _Span._ and _Port._ Galician; usually Anglicized by Borrow as +Gallegan. The Roman _Gallaeci_ or _Callaeci_. + +GALLINERIA. _Span._ A hen-coop; a place for keeping _gallinas_, or +chickens. + +GALOOT (_Galūth_). _Hebr._ Bondage, captivity. “The galoot of sin.” +In the slang of the United States the word means “a simpleton.” + +GARBANZOS. _Span._ Chick-pease (_Cicer arietinum_). The invariable +vegetable in every _olla_ and _puchero_. + +GARLOCHIN. _Rom._ Heart. See CARLO. + +GARNATA. _Arab._ Granada. See MELEGRANA. + +GARROTE. _Span._ and _Port._ The death penalty by strangulation, in +which an iron collar fixed to a post is tightened by a screw and receives +the neck of the culprit, which is broken by a sharp turn given by the +executioner. _Garrote_ also means a cudgel, or heavy walking-stick; and +the tourniquet used by surgeons. It is a word of strange and uncertain +etymology, and is said to be connected with Span. _garra_, a claw, Fr. +_jarret_, a thigh, and other apparently incongruous words. + +GAZPACHO. A dish in the nature of a vegetable salad very popular in +Spain, made of bread, onions, potatoes, tomatoes, garlic, _garbanzos_ or +chick-peas, with oil and seasoning of various kinds. The etymology is +uncertain. + +GEFATURA. _Span._ Office of the following. + +GEFE. _Span._ Chief. _Gefe politico_ = _corregidor_, _q.v._ + +GELABA. _Arab._ A long cloak. Arab. _jilbāb_. + +GENIO. _Span._ and _Port._ Genius; spirit. + +GENOUI, dimin. GENOUILLOS. Moor. A Genoese, Genoese children. + +GENTE, JENTE. _Span._ and _Port._ People. + +GERMANÍA. _Span._ According to the dictionaries, the dialect or mode of +speech used by gypsies, thieves, and ruffians, to prevent their being +understood, in which they give special meanings to ordinary words (e.g. +_aguila_, eagle = a clever thief), or invent words of their own (e.g. +_almifor_ = horse). No doubt _Germanía_ contains gypsy words, but it is +no more identical with Romany than are the Fr. _Argot_ or the Eng. +_Cant_. See Z. ii. 129. + +GIBIL. _Arab._ A hill. + +GINETE. _Span._ A good horseman. _À la gineta_, in the Moorish style +(of riding). Diez, strangely enough, would derive this Arab or Moorish +word from the Grk. μυμνήτης, a naked or light-armed foot soldier. It is +really derived from the proper name Zeneta, a Berber tribe who furnished +the finest horsemen to the Spanish Moors (Cron. Alfonso X., fo. 6 d, an. +1263). In Catalan the word has become _janetz_. Our English word +“jennet” may be derived from the same source. + +GIRAR. _Span._ and _Port._ To turn round. + +GITANA. _Thieves’ slang_. Twelve ounces of bread. See i. 177. + +GITANO. _Span._ A gypsy. A corrupted form of _Egiptiano_, an Egyptian. +R. 269; McR. 109. See ZINCALO. + +GODO. _Span._ and _Port._ A Goth; Gothic. + +GOH. _Pers._ Mountain. More correctly, _koh_. + +GONFALONIERA. _Ital._ Standard-bearer. + +GRĀ, GRAS, GRASTE, GRY. _Rom._ A horse. P. ii. 145; A. 33; Pp. 249; M. +vii. 58. + +GRACIA. _Span._ GRATIA. _Lat._ Grace. + +GRANJA. _Span._ A grange, farm. _La Granja_, the royal palace at San +Ildefonso. + +GRECO. _Ital._ GRIEGO. _Span._ Greek. + +GUAPO, GUAPITO. _Span._ and _Port._ Gay, neat, clever, elegant, +gallant. + +GUARDACOSTAS. _Span._ A revenue cutter. + +GUARDIA. _Span._ A guard, watch. + +GUERILLA. _Span._ Lit. little war. Irregular warfare to which the +Spaniards have ever been so much addicted. The _guerrillero_ is the +irregular soldier, or armed _paisano_, who wages this little war. + +GUERRA. _Span._ War. + +GUISSAN. _Basque_. According to. It is an adaptation of the Fr. +_guise_, Span. _guisa_. The regular Basque words are _arabera_, +_araura_. Aizquibel, Basque-Spanish Dict., gives the form _gisara_. + +GURSÉAN. _Moor._ The giant aloe. Span. _pita_. _Apud_ Borrow, ii. +276. + +GUSTO. _Span._ (1) Taste, lit. or fig. (2) Fancy, caprice, wish. + + * * * * * + +HABER. _Span._ To have. _Hay_, there are. _No hay mas_? Are there no +more? + +HABLA. _Span._ Speech. + +HABLAR. _Span._ To speak. Lat. _fabulare_. + +HACER. _Span._ To do, make. _El hará el gusto por V_, He will do what +you want. + +HADA, HADE. _Arab._ This. + +HAIK. _Arab._ A white cloth worn over the head by the Moors. + +HAIMAS. _Arab._ Tents. More correctly, _ḥaimat_, plur. _ḥiyām_. + +HAJI. _Arab._, _Turk._, and _Grk._ One who having made the _haj_, or +pilgrimage, to Mecca, is entitled to wear a green turban and assume the +title of _haji_. But the same title, strange to say, is assumed by +orthodox Christians who have made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem; and _Haji +Yanco_ is quite as common a title or mode of address in the Levant as +_Haji Ibrahím_. + +HALAL. _Arab._ Lawful. + +HALOOF. _Berber_. Hog’s flesh. More correctly, _ḥalluf_. + +HAMAL. _Arab._ Porter, carrier. More correctly, _ḥammāl_. + +HANUTZ. _Arab._ Shop. More correctly, _ḥanūt_. + +HARĀM. _Arab._ and _Hebr._ Forbidden. Akin to this is _harem_. + +HASTA. _Span._ Until. See DESPUES. + +HATO. _Span._ A herd, a multitude. Port. _fato_. + +HAX WEIB, HAX. _Germ._ A witch. A wrong form of _Hexe Weib_ or _Hexe_, +a witch, or female wizard. + +HAYIM. _Hebr._ Living. More correctly, _hayyim_. + +HELLER. _Germ._ A copper coin in use in Germany previous to 1848; in +value about one farthing. + +HERENCIA. _Span._ Heritage, inheritance. + +HERRADOR. _Span._ A blacksmith. + +HIDALGO. _Span._ See FIDALGO. + +HIGUERA. _Span._ A fig-tree. + +HIJO. _Span._ A son. Lat. _filius_. + +HINAI. _Arab._ Here. + +HOK. _Rom._ Deceit, falsehood, fraud. _Hokka_, to lie; _hokkawar_, to +cheat. _Hokkano_, in Eng. Rom., a lie. P. ii. 160; A. 37; Pp. 317; M. +vii. 63. _Hokkano baro_, the great trick. See Z. i. 310; LL. 244; Lel. +352; Gr. 357. + +HOMBRE. _Span._ HOMME. _Fr._ A man + +HORCA. _Span._ The gallows. + +HORNO. _Span._ Oven. + +HOURIS. _Arab._ The women of the Moslem Paradise. Plural of the Arab, +_ḥawrá_ = black-eyed. + +HSHEESH. _Arab._ I.e. _ḥashish_, a preparation of hemp. + +HUÁJE. _Arab._ Things. _Huáje del Mselmeen_, more correctly, _ḥawāij +el Muslimīn_, things of the Moslems. + +HUESO. _Span._ A bone. + +HUNDUNAR, JUNDUNAR. _Rom._ A soldier. P. ii. 172; R. 294. J. gives +_jundo_, _jundonal_. + + * * * * * + +ICHASOA. _Basque_. The sea. The verse quoted by Borrow (ii. 118) more +accurately runs thus— + + “Ichasoa urac handi. + (The iea—the water—large) + Eztu ondoric aguerri— + (There is not—any bottom—manifest) + Pasaco ninsaqueni andic + (To pass—I could be able—thence) + Maitea icustea gatic.” + (The beloved—the seeing, _i.e._ to see—for). + +INFAMIA. _Span._ and _Port._ Infamy. + +INFANTE. _Span._ and _Port._ Prince. + +INGLATERRA. _Span._ England. + +INGLES. _Span._ English. _Inglesito_! “My little Englishman!” + +INQUISICION. _Span._ The Inquisition. + +INSHALLAH. _Arab._ Please God! + +INSTANCIA. _Span._ and _Port._ Instance, prosecution. See note, ii. +141. + + * * * * * + +JABADOR. Apparently a Hispanized form of the African Arabic _jabdali_ = +a gold-embroidered waistcoat. + +JACA, or HACA. _Span._ A pony, or small riding horse. + +JARA CANALLIS. _Rom._ The only authority I have succeeded in finding +for this word is Z. ii. * 61. “_Jaracañales_, guards, officers of the +revenue.” It may possibly be derived from the Bohemian gypsy _xáro_, +Hungarian _háro_ = sabre, and the Span._ canalla_, but I have no reason +to suppose that the word _xáro_ or _háro_ was known to the gypsies of +Spain. + +JARGON. _Eng._ Originally a Fr. word, meaning any unintelligible sound, +as that of birds, then applied to the strange speech of the _Gueux_; and +so to any unknown tongue. Borrow himself says of the gypsies, “when +wishing to praise the proficiency of any individual in their tongue, they +are in the habit of saying, ‘He understands the seven jargons’” (Z. ii. +125). Frampton Boswell is recorded (G. i. 374) to have stated that +Romany was not one of “the seven languages,” “but,” adds Mr. Hinde +Groome, “what he meant thereby, goodness alone knows.” The historian +Mazaris (A.D. 1416) states that at that time the Peloponnesus was +inhabited by seven principal nations, one of which was that of the +Egyptians. These “Egyptians” are held by M. Bataillard to have been +gypsies (_ib._ iii. 154), and I would suggest that we have here the +origin of “the seven jargons.” The number seven seems to be in a special +way connected with the children of Roma. For other instances see Leland, +_English Gypsies_, p. 218; Gr. 171. + +JAUN, JAUNA. _Basque_. Lord, the lord. + +JAUNGVICOA. _Basque_. The Lord God. _Jaun_ = man, sir, lord; _Gincoa_ +or _Jincoa_ = God. + +JEHINNIM. _Arab._ and _Hebr._ Hell. + +JENNUT. _Arab._ Paradise. Usually written, _jannat_. + +JENTE. _Span._ See GENTE. + +JIN. _Arab._ In classic English, _genie_ (Arabic and Persian _jinn_), a +class of spirits lower than the angels. + +JOHÁR. _Arab._ A pearl. + +JOJABAR, JONJABAR. _Rom._ To deceive. From _jojána_, deceit. See HOK. + +JORGE, dimin. JORGITO. _Span._ George. + +JOROBADO. _Span._ A hunchback. The verb _jorobar_ means “to worry.” + +JUEZ. _Span._ A judge. + +JUMAL. _Arab._ Friday. More correctly, _jum_‘_a_. + +JUNTA. _Span._ and _Port._ An assembly, meeting, council, governing +body. + +JUNTUNÓ. _Rom._ A listener, spy, sneak. From _junar_, _junelar_, to +listen. P. ii. 221; Pp. 497; M. viii. 75. + +JUSTICIA. _Span._ A legal tribunal, or the magistrate or magistrates +who constitute it. _Absol_, justice. + + * * * * * + +KAFIR. _Arab._ Not a Moslem. + +KANDRISA. According to Borrow, Turkish trousers. Possibly the same as +the African Arabic _ḳan dūra_ = long shirt, _toga talaris_. + +KAPUL UDBAGH. According to Borrow = “There is no God but one.” + +KAUK. _Hebr._ The furred cap of Jerusalem, according to Borrow. We may +perhaps compare _ḳūḳa_, stated by Redhouse in his _Turkish Diet_, to be a +peculiar plumed head-dress worn by field-officers of the Janissaries. + +KAWAR. _Arab._ An uncommon word, meaning, no doubt, a cemetery, being a +corrupt form of _ḳabr_, a tomb. + +KEBIR. _Arab._ Great. + +KER, QUER. _Rom._ A house. P. ii. 153; Pp. 279; M. vii. 79; G. i. 178. + +KERMOUS DEL INDE. _Arab._ A fruit; the prickly pear. + +KISTUR, KESTER. _Rom._ To ride. P. ii. 122; SC. refer to _uklistó_, +Pp. 560; A. 14; M. viii. 89. Borrow derives it from the Wallachian +_keleri_. Perhaps from the Grk. κέλης. + +KJÆMPE. _Scand._ A champion. Cf. “Kempion the kingis son” in the +ballad that bears his name. + +KNAW. _Rom._ Now. P. ii. 124; Pp. 130; M. vii. 5. + +KOSKO, KOOSHTO. _Rom._ Good. P. ii. 157. This is an Eng. Rom. word. +Continental gypsies use _latchó_, _mishtó_. + +KYRIE. Grk. Κύριε, sir, my lord. + + * * * * * + +LABRADOR. _Span._ Cultivator, rustic, peasant. _Labrar_, to till the +ground. + +LÁCHA. _Rom._ Maidenhead, virginity. Z. ii. 7; P. ii. 331; Pp. 325; M. +viii. 4. + +LACHIPÉ. _Rom._ Silk. I cannot explain this word, unless it is +connected with the following. + +LACHÓ, fem. LACHÍ. _Rom._ Good. P. ii. 329; A. 49; Pp. 328; M. viii. +4. + +LADRÕES. _Port._ Plur. of _ladrão_, a thief. Lat. _latro_. + +LALORÉ. _Rom._ The Portuguese. LALORÓ, the red land. Eng. Rom. +_Lotto_ (cf. _Jackanapes_, p. 28). P. i. 54, ii. 338; Pp. 328, 339; M. +viii. 8. + +LAPURRAC. _Basque_. The thieves. + +LARGO. _Port._ A square, or public place in a town. + +LECTURA. _Span._ Reading. + +LEN. _Rom._ A river. _Len baro_, the great river; _Wady al Kebir_, the +Guadalquivir. P. ii. 336; Pp. 333; M. viii. 6. + +LEVANTARSE. _Span._ and _Port._ To raise one’s self, rise. + +LE. _Span._ To him. + +LI, LIL. _Rom._ Paper; a letter, passport, book. P. ii. 329, 339; A. +48; Pp. 334; M. viii. 7. + +LIB. _Hebr._ Heart. More correctly, _leb_. + +LICEO. _Span._ School, college. + +LILIPENDI. _Rom._ A simpleton. Akin to LILÓ, _q.v._ + +LILÓ, fem. LILÍ. _Rom._ Foolish, mad. P. ii. 340. + +LIMOSNA, dimin. LIMOSNITA. _Span._ Alms, charity. + +LINDO. _Span._ and _Port._ Beautiful, pretty. + +LIRI. _Rom._ Law. P. ii. 340. + +LLAVERO. _Span._ Turnkey. + +LOCO. _Span._ Mad. + +LOMBO. _Port._ Loin. + +LONDONÉ. _Rom._ An Englishman; lit. a Londoner. So B., but it is +probably plural. P. i. 54. + +LONGANIZERO. _Span._ Sausage-maker. + +LONTRA. _Port._ Otter. Span. _nutria_. “L” for “N” is characteristic. + +LOOR. _Old Span._ Praise. + +LUME. _Port._ Light. + +LUMIA. _Rom._ A harlot. P. ii. 334; Pp. 342; M. viii. 9; G. i. 178. + + * * * * * + +MA. _Arab._ Not. + +MACHO, MACHA. _Span._ A mule, male or female. Considering that, even +in Spanish, _macho_ did, and does, signify a male animal of any +kind—being an abbreviation of the Latin _masculus_—_macha_, a she-mule, +is rather a strange word! + +MADRILATI. _Rom._ Madrid. Also _Adalí_, J. In thieves’ slang also +_Gao_ (= _gav_, a town), Z. ii. * 54. But H. gives _gao_ = _piojo_ (a +louse). + +MAHA. _Sanscr._ Great. Persian _mih_. + +MAHASNI, plur. MAKHASNIAH. _Arab._ Soldiers. More correctly, men of +the garrison; defenders. + +MAI. _Port._ Mother. + +MAILLA. _Rom._ A she-ass. P. ii. 454. Apparently only found in Eng. +Romany. + +MAJARÓ. _Rom._ Holy. P. ii. 462. + +MAJO, MAJA. Dandy; fancy man or girl. _Majo_, scarcely to be rendered +in any foreign language, is a word of more general signification than +_manolo_, q.v. The one is a dandy, or smart fellow, all over Spain; the +other is used only of a certain class in Madrid. + +MAJOON. I cannot find this word, but it is apparently the name of some +intoxicating substance, and is probably connected with the Arabic +_majnūn_ = possessed by a _jinn_, mad. + +MAKHIAH. _Arab._ Brandy made of figs. More correctly, _ma’iyya_. + +MALO. _Span._ Bad, wicked. + +MALVADO. _Span._ and _Port._ Malicious, evil disposed. + +MAN. _Rom._ Me. P. i. 229; Pp. 66; M. xi. 22. + +MANOLO. _Span._ _Manolo_ is a somewhat difficult word to translate. It +is applied to the flash or fancy man and his _manola_ in Madrid only; a +class fond of pleasure, of fine clothes, of bull-fights, and of sunshine, +with a code of honour of their own; men and women rather picturesque than +exemplary, and eminently racy of the soil. + +MANRÓ. _Rom._ Bread or corn. Estremadura is thus called _Chim del +Manró_, “The Land of Corn.” P. ii. 440; Pp. 350; M. viii. 12. Given as +_marron_, G. i. 177. + +MANTA. _Span._ and _Port._ A woollen blanket. _Á manta de Dios_ = +copiously. The word has nothing to do with the national _cloak_ of +Spain, which is _la capa_. + +MANTILLA. _Span._ The characteristic headdress of Spanish ladies, of +black silk or lace, drawn over the back of the head and shoulders. +Dimin. of _manta_. + +MAR. _Span._ and _Port._ Sea. + +MARAVEDÍ. _Span._ A coin of various weights and values. See Burke’s +_History of Spain_, ii. 282. + +MAREQUITA. _Span._ Dimin. of Maria. + +MARIPOSA. _Span._ A butterfly; a night light. + +MAS. _Span._ More. + +MATADOR. _Span._ and _Port._ (1) A slayer, murderer. (2) The man who +kills the bull. See note, i. 170. + +MATO. _Port._ A forest; or more exactly, a wild country, full of bushes +and thickets. + +MAUGHRABIE. _Arab._ A Borrovian adaptation of the Arabic _Al Maghrib_, +the west, signifying Mauretania, or North-Western Africa. + +MAYIM. _Hebr._ Waters. + +MAYOR. _Span._ and _Port._ Greater. + +MAYORDOMO. _Span._ and _Port._ House steward, or major-domo. + +MEARRAH. _Hebr._ and _Arab._ Cemetery. Lit. a cave. Hebr. _m_‘_arah_, +Arab. _maghārah._ + +MECLIS, MEKLIS. _Eng. Rom._ Leave off! have done! “‘_Meklis_,’ said +Mrs. Chikno, ‘pray drop all that, sister’” (_The Romany Rye_, ch. v.). +P. ii. 112, 434; Pp. 369; M. viii. 19. + +MEDICO. _Span._ and _Port._ A physician. + +MEFORSHIM. _Hebr._ The commentators. More correctly, _m_’_fár_’_shim_. + +MEIGA. _Port._ and _Gal._ A female sharper, fortune-teller, or +sorceress. The adjective _meigo_, in Spanish _mego_, has the +signification of gentle, kind, mild. + +MELEGRANA. _Rom._ Granada. From the Ital. _melagrana_, a pomegranate; +Span. _granada_. See note, 375. + +MENDI. _Basque_. A mountain. See note to Ingles Mendi, ii. 314. + +MERCADO. _Span._ and _Port._ A market, or market-place. + +MERCED. _Span._ (1) Favour, grace, mercy. (2) A day labourer’s pay, or +wages. (3) In combination, _vuestra merced_, your worship, your honour, +etc.; written V. or Vd. and pronounced _usted_. + +MESUNA. _Rom._ A wayside inn, or _posada_, q.v. P. ii. 43, 463. + +MEZQUITA. _Span._ A mosque. + +MÍLA. _Irish_. A thousand. + +MILAGRO. _Span._ A miracle. + +MIN. _Rom._ My, mine. P. i. 237; Pp. 69; M. xi. 30. + +MIN. _Arab._ From. + +MIRAR. _Span._ To look. + +MISERIA. _Span._ and _Port._ Misery, wretchedness; also niggardliness, +stinginess. + +MODERADO. _Span._ and _Port._ Moderate. The name assumed by the more +royalist members of the _Cristino_ party. See i. 180. + +MODO. _Span._ and _Port._ (1) Measure; (2) courtesy, urbanity. _V. no +tiene modo_, “You’ve got no manners.” + +MOIDORE. _O. Eng._ Portuguese _moeda d’ouro_ = golden money, was a gold +piece of the value of about twenty-six shillings. + +MONA. _Span._ and _Port._ A she-monkey. + +MONRÓ. _Rom._ A friend; in thieves’ slang, an adult. Z. ii. 149; P. +ii. 453; M. viii. 18. + +MONTANA. _Span._ A hill, mountain. + +MONTE. _Span._ and _Port._ A hill, mountain. + +MONTERA. _Span._ A hunting-cap, a Montero cap. + +MONTERO. _Span._ A hunter; originally, a mountaineer. + +MORO. _Span._ Moorish. + +MOSTRADOR. _Span._ The counter, of a shop. + +MOZO. _Span._ A youth, or lad; _moza_, a girl. + +MSELMEEN. _Arab._ Moslems. See HUÁJE. + +MUCHACHO, MUCHACHA. _Spn._ Boy; girl. + +MUCHO. _Span._ Much. + +MUGER, MUJER. _Span._ Woman; wife. + +MUJIK, MUZHIK. _Russ._ A peasant. It may be added that their popular +song, “Come, let us cut the cabbage” (i. 175), is not, as might be +supposed, an exhortation to horticultural pursuits. “To cut the cabbage” +is a slang expression among the Slavs for killing a Turk, in allusion to +the green turbans worn by the descendants of the prophet. + +MUK. _Rom._ Let, allow. See MECLIS. + +MUNDO. _Span._ and _Port._ World. + +MUSHEE. _Arab._ I.e. _ma_ = not, _shee_ = thing. + +MUY. _Span._ Very, much. + + * * * * * + +NACIONAL. _Span._ and _Port._ A Nationalist; a member of the National +Guard. + +NADA. _Span._ and _Port._ Nothing. + +NAHI. _Rom._ Translated by Borrow, lost. If so, perhaps connected with +_najabar_, to lose. P. ii. 324; Pp. 381; M. viii. 23. Possibly, +however, it is only a negative = is not. P. i. 319; A. 70. + +NAO. _Port._ Ship. + +NARANGERO. _Span._ An orange-seller. + +NAVA. _Span._ A plain. + +NDUI. _Hebr._ A kind of hell, or purgatory, according to Borrow, who +puts the word into the mouth of his Lisbon Jews. It is, apparently, the +Hebr. _niddui_ = ban, excommunication. + +NEFSKY. _Russ._ Of the Neva. + +NEGRO. _Span._ and _Port._ (1) Black; (2) a negro, or African; (3) the +nickname given by the Basque Carlists to the _Cristinos_, or +Constitutionalists, 1833–1839. + +NICABAR. _Rom._ To take away, steal, destroy. P. ii. 326; Pp. 390; M. +viii. 25. + +NIRI. _Basque_. My, mine. + +NOCHE. _Span._ Night. + +NOMBRE. _Span._ Name. + +NOVILLO. _Span._ A young bull. See note, i. 361. + +NOVIO. _Span._ Bridegroom, betrothed. + +NUAR. _Arab._ Flowers. More correctly, _nawār_. + +NUESTRO. _Span._ Our. + +NUVEIRO. This word is neither Castilian, Galician, nor Portuguese; but +is a made-up or fancy word, from the Portuguese _nuvem_, a cloud; a cloud +man, or supernatural being. + + * * * * * + +O. _Rom._ The. + +Ó. _Span._ Or. + +OBISPO. _Span._ Bishop. + +OJALATEROS. _Span._ “Waiters upon Providence.” A burlesque word. See +note, i. 169. + +ONZA. _Span._ A coin of the value of about £3 6_s._ 8_d._; lit. an +_ounce_ of gold. Also known as the _doblon de à_ 8; Anglicized as “piece +of eight.” + +ORAÇAM, ORAÇÃO. _Port._ A prayer. + +OTRO. _Span._ Other. _No hay otro en el mundo_, “There’s none like it +in the world.” + +OULEM. _Hebr._ Of the world. Arab. ‘_olam_. + + * * * * * + +PACHÍ. _Rom._ Modesty, honour, virginity. P. ii. 347. + +PACIENCIA. _Span._ and _Port._ Patience. + +PAÇO. _Port._ The Court. + +PADRE. _Span._ and _Port._ Father. + +PADRINO. _Span._ (1) Sponsor, godfather; (2) second—in a duel. + +PADRON. _Span._ Patron, landlord. + +PAHAN. _Phœn._ A rabbit. + +PAISANO. _Span._ and _Port._ A countryman; _not_ a peasant, but a man +of the same country as another; a compatriot. As the conventional answer +to the challenge, “_Quien vive_?” by a Spanish sentry, it means +“Civilian.” + +PAJANDI. _Rom._ A guitar. According to Borrow, lit. “the thing that is +touched or played upon.” P. ii. 369, 426. + +PAJARIA. _Span._ Straw-market. The place where straw is _kept_ is +PAJAR. + +PAL. Rom. See PLAN. + +PALABRA. _Span._ A word. + +PALOMAR. _Span._ A dovecote. + +PAN. _Span._ Bread. + +PANHAGIA. _Grk._ Lit. All-holy. The Virgin Mary. + +PANÍ. See PAWNEE. + +PAÑUELO. _Span._ A handkerchief. Lit. a little cloth. + +PAPAS. _Grk._ A priest (παπᾶς). + +PARA. _Span._ and _Port._ For. + +PARNÓ. _Rom._ White. P. ii. 359; Pp. 410; M. viii. 32. + +PARNÉ. White, or silver money; thence, as in the case of Fr. _argent_, +money in general. See PARNÓ. + +PARRA. _Span._ Festoons of vines; the trellis or stakes upon which +these festoons are trained. + +PARUGAR. _Rom._ To barter, swop, chaffer. P. ii. 354; Pp. 412; M. +viii. 33. + +PASTELEROS. _Span._ Pastrycooks. + +PASTESAS. _Rom._ The hands. _Ustilar á pastesas_ is to steal “with the +hands,” or by any sleight of hand. Z. i. 315. The usual Span. gypsy +word is _ba_, J.; _bas_, Z. i. 522. Both are doubtless variations of the +more common _vast_. P. ii. 86; Pp. 573; M. viii. 94; SC. 151. + +PASTOR. _Span._ and _Port._ Shepherd. + +PATIO. _Span._ and _Port._ The court of a house; either the open space +round which Spanish houses are so commonly built, or an open court in +front of it. + +PATRON. See PADRON. + +PAWNEE, PANÍ. _Rom._ Water. Hind. _paní_. The one special word known +to all gypsies wherever found, even in Brazil. P. ii. 343; Pp. 405; M. +viii. 31; G. i. 61. + +PELUNI. _Arab._ Of another. See ii. 313. + +PENAR, PENELAR. _Rom._ To speak, say. P. ii. 386; Pp. 421; M. viii. +41. + +PEÑA. _Span._ A rock. + +PEPTNDORIO. _Rom._ Antonio; proper name. + +PERICO. _Span._ A small parrot. + +PERO. _Span._ But + +PERRO. _Span._ A dog. + +PESAR. _Span._ and _Port._ To afflict, distress. Lit. to weigh. _Me +peso_, “I’m very sorry.” + +PESETA. _Span._ A Spanish coin, representing, down to 1870, two silver +reals or four reals _vellon_, but since 1870 the standard or unit of +value in Spanish finance, is nearly equal to the French _franc_, and, +like it, divided for purposes of account, into 100 _centimos_. + +PETULENGRO, PETALENGRO. _Eng. Rom._ A shoeing smith. See note on i. +204; P. ii. 348; Pp. 427; M. viii. 37; SC. 13, 121; and, generally, +Lavengro and The Romany Rye. + +PFAFFEN. _Germ._ Monks; a contemptuous term for clerics generally, +whether regular or secular. + +PIAZZA. _Ital._ An open square in a town, surrounded by colonnades. In +modern American parlance the word is often used for a veranda, in which +sense Borrow apparently uses it, i. 276. + +PICADOR. _Span._ and _Port._ A riding-master, bull-fighter. See note, +i. 170, and TORERO. + +PICARDIA. _Span._ and _Port._ Knavishness; from _picaro_, a rogue, +knave, or loafer. The English adjective _picaresque_ is conventionally +applied to a certain class of Spanish story of low life and sharp +practice relieved by humour. + +PÍCARO. _Span._ and _Port._ Rogue, knave. + +PICARON. _Span._ Augmentative (_on_) of _pícaro_, a great scamp. + +PICA. _Span._ and _Port._ Peak, summit. + +PILA. _Span._ A water-trough. + +PINAR, PINAL. _Span._ Grove or wood of pine trees. + +PINRÓ, PINDRÓ, plur. PINDRÉ. _Rom._ Foot; _en pindré_, on foot P. ii. +351; Pp. 433; M. viii. 47; A. 33. + +PIO. _Span._ and _Port._ Pious. + +PIRAR, PIRELAR. _Rom._ To go, walk. P. ii. 382; Pp. 436; M. viii. 42. + +PITA. _Span._ The aloe (_Agave americana_). + +PLULÍ. _Rom._ A widow. P. ii. 377; Pp. 439; M. viii. 43. + +PLAKO or PLACO. _Rom._ Tobacco. Russ. _prâk_ = powder. P. ii. 361; +Pp. 445; M. viii. 52. A gypsy model at Granada gave it as _prajo_ in +1876, “L” and “R” being often interchanged by the peasants thereabouts. +G. i. 177 and J. has _polvo_ = _praco_. + +PLAN, PLANORÓ, PLAL. _Rom._ Brother, comrade. Eng. Rom. _pal_. P. ii. +383; A. 79; Pp. 445; M. viii. 43. + +PLAYA. _Span._ The strand. + +PLAZA. _Span._ A square or open space in a town. Ital. _piazza_, q.v. + +PLAZUELA. _Span._ Dimin. of PLAZA. + +POBLACION. _Span._ (1) Population; (2) act of populating; (3) a town. + +POBRECITA. _Span._ “Poor thing!” Dimin. of _pobre_, poor. + +POLITICO. _Span._ and _Port._ Political, civil. See note, ii. 127. + +POLK. _Russ._ A regiment. + +POQUITO. _Span._ Dimin. of _poco_. Small, little. + +POR. _Span._ and _Port._ For. + +PORQUE. _Span._ and _Port._ Because. + +POSADA. _Span._ “A lodging; from _posar_, to sit down or lodge, hence +lodging-house, tavern, or small hotel. The genuine Spanish town inn is +called the _posada_, as being meant to mean a house of repose after the +pains of travel. Strictly speaking, the keeper is only bound to provide +lodging, salt, and the power of cooking whatever the traveller brings +with him or can procure out-of-doors, and in this it differs from the +_fonda_, in which meats and drinks are furnished.”—Ford, _Gatherings from +Spain_, ch. xv. + +POSADERO. _Span._ Innkeeper. + +POSTA. _Span._ and _Port._ Post, post-house. _Casa de las Postas_, +General Post-office. + +PRAÇA. _Port._ Square, place. + +PRADO. _Span._ and _Port._ A lawn or meadow. The great promenade at +Madrid. + +PRAIA. _Gal._ Seashore, strand. + +PRESIDIO. _Span._ and _Port._ Place of imprisonment, penitentiary; +prim. a fortress, or the garrison thereof. + +PRESTAR. _Port._ To be of use. + +PRIMERO. _Span._ First. + +PRINCIPE. _Span._ and _Port._ PRINCEPS. _Lat._ Prince. + +PROPINA. _Span._ Lat. _propinare_. Drink-money; _pour boire_, a tip. + +PUCHERA or PUCHERO. _Span._ A stew; prim. the pot in which the stew is +made, which, as in the case of the _olla_, has come to signify the +contents. The _puchero_ is more used in the north, the _olla_ in the +south of the Peninsula. The combination _olla podrida_ is now at least +never heard in Spain. + +PUEBLO. _Span._ A small town, or village. _El pueblo_, the common +people. + +PUENTE. _Span._ A bridge. + +PUERTA. _Span._ Door, gate. _Puerta del Sol_, Gate of the Sun. The +central point of Madrid. + +PUERTO. _Span._ A bay, or port; also a pass in the mountains. + +PULIDO. _Span._ Neat, delicate, charming. + + * * * * * + +QUATRO. _Span._ and _Port._ Four. + +QUE. _Span._ and _Port._ What, that. + +QUER. _Rom._ A house. See KER. + +QUIEN. _Span._ Who. + +QUIERO. _Span._ I wish. + +QUINTA. _Span._ and _Port._ A country house. + + * * * * * + +RABBI. _Hebr._ Master. + +RAINHA. _Port._ Queen. + +RAIS. _Arab._ Chief; captain of a ship. + +RAJIL. _Arab._ Man. + +RANDADO._ Rom._ Written. From _randar_, P. ii. 276. + +RATERO. _Span._ Mean, scoundrelly. + +RAYA. _Span._ Border, boundary, or frontier. + +REAL. _Span._ and _Port._ Royal. + +REAL. _Span._ and _Port._ A coin or unit of value. The Spanish plural +is _reales_; the Portuguese, _reis_ or _rees_. The Spanish real is worth +about 2½_d._ English; the Portuguese only 1/20_d._, one thousand reis +making the Portuguese dollar, or piece of mil reis, hence called a +_milrei_ or _milreis_. + +REGATA. _Span._ A small channel, or, conduit. + +REJA. _Span._ The iron grating before a window looking on to the street +of a town. The recognized trysting-place of a lover and his mistress. + +RELACION. _Span._ Relation, story. + +REMATAR. _Span._ and _Port._ To end, finish. _Que Dios remate tu +nombre_! “May God blot out your name!” + +RENDER. _Span._ and _Port._ To yield, surrender. + +REPAÑI. _Rom._ Brandy. This word, given in 1876 (_v._ PLAKO), is +derived by Pott from _repañi_ (_repañó_, J.), a radish, the connexion +being the sharp taste of both (ii. 274). Remembering the “fire-water” of +the Indians, the _aguardiente_ of Spain and Portugal, and the _tattopani_ +of the Eng. gypsies, I am tempted to suggest another explanation. J. +gives _ardiente_ = _carí_, and _aguardiente_ = _pañicarí_. Now _car_ (P. +ii. 125) or _jar_ (_ib._ 171) = heat. Change the order of the words and +_caripañi_ might shorten into _repañí_. + +REPOSTERO. _Span._ The butler, or majordomo, in a great house. The +_reposteria_ is the plate-room, storeroom, or pantry. + +REPUTACION. _Span._ Reputation. _Gente de reputacion_, “swells,” +“swagger people.” + +REQUISO. _Span._ Requisitioning (from _requerir_). A technical word; +the authority that requisitions private property, horses, etc., for the +use of the national army in time of war. + +REYNA. _Span._ Queen. + +RIA. _Span._ and _Port._ An estuary, as the mouth of a river. More +particularly applied to the numerous bays on the Galician and Asturian +coasts of Northwest Spain. + +RO, ROM. _Rom._ A husband; a married gypsy. _Roma_, the husbands, is +the generic name of the gypsy nation, or Romany. P. ii. 275; A. 56; Pp. +462; M. viii. 58; McR. 91. + +ROMERO. _Span._ Rosemary. + +ROMI. _Rom._ A married gypsywoman; fem. of _rom_, a husband; a married +gypsy. + +ROQUE. _Span._ and _Port._ The “rook,” or “castle,” at chess. Pers. +_rukh_. The same word is used for the fabulous bird of immense size so +often mentioned in Oriental tales. + +ROUBLE. _Russ._ A kind of Russian money, either silver or paper. Its +present value is about two shillings. + +RUAH. Arab, and _Hebr._ Spirit. Used throughout the Old Test, to +denote the Spirit of God, the Holy Spirit. + +RUFIANESCO. _Span._ Ruffian, criminal. + +RUNE. _Eng._ (1) A letter of the ancient Scandinavian alphabet, usually +carved on stone. (2) A short mystic sentence of Scandinavian origin. +Norse and Danish _rune_, Swed. _runa_. + + * * * * * + +SABIO. _Span._ and _Port._ Learned. King Alfonso X. was surnamed _El +Sabio_, which is sometimes erroneously rendered “The Wise.” _Sabio_ is, +rather, “erudite;” and the king was undoubtedly the most learned man of +his time, though his government was not always by any means wise. + +SACRO. _Span._ and _Port._ Sacred. + +SAFACORO. _Rom._ The city of Seville. P. ii. 248. J. gives +_Sevillano_ = _Safacorano_. + +SAGADUA, SAGARDUA. _Basque_. Cider; _i.e._ the strong or Spanish cider, +called in French Basque _charnoa_ or _sharnoa_, as distinguished from the +weak cider which is made from apples rotted in water. A probable +etymology is _sagar_ = apple; _arno_ = wine. + +SAGRA. _Span._ The name of certain districts in Spain, especially of +one lying north of Toledo. The word is probably derived from the Arab +_ṣaḥra_ = a plain. See note, i. 257. + +SALAMANQUESA. _Span._ A salamander, or, star-lizard; otherwise called +_salamandra_. + +SANDIA. _Span._ A water-melon. + +SANTIGUO. _Span._ The action of crossing one’s self. _Santiguar_ is +“to make the sign of the cross.” + +SANTO. _Span._ and _Port._ Sainted, holy. _La Santa Casa_, the +Inquisition. + +SANTON. _Span._ A great saint; more especially applied to Moslem +recluses. Also, a hypocrite. + +SANTURRON. _Span._ A great saint; usually, a great hypocrite. + +SARDINHA. _Port._ and _Gal._ A sardine. Borrow’s friends, _la gente +rufianesca_, have a quaint name for a galley-slave, _apaleador de +sardinas_, a sardine-beater. H. 155. + +SBA. _Arab._ Morning. More correctly, _ṣabāḥ_. + +SCHARKI. _Arab._ The East. + +SCHARR. See DAOUD. + +SCHOPHON. _Heb._ _Shâphân_ (שׁפן) A quadruped which chews the cud like +a hare (Lev. xi. 5; Deut. xiv. 7); which lives gregariously on rocks, and +is remarkable for its cunning (Ps. civ. 18; Prov. xxx. 26). The Rabbins +render _coney_, or _rabbit_; more correctly the LXX. in three places +χοιρογρύλλιος, _i.e._ an animal resembling the _marmot_. + +SÉ. _Span._ I know; from _saber_. + +SEA. _Span._ May he be; from _ser_. + +SECO. _Span._ and _Port._ Dry. See ii. 82. + +SECRETARIO. _Span._ and _Port._ Secretary. + +SEGUN. _Span._ According to. + +SEGUNDO. _Span._ and _Port._ Second. + +SENHOR, SENHORA. _Port._ SEÑOR, SEÑORA. _Span._ Gentleman, lady. + +SEÑORITO, SEÑORITA. _Span._ Dimin. of the above. + +SEO. _Span._ A cathedral church. + +SEREKA. _Arab._ A theft. More correctly, _sarika_. + +SERRA. _Port._ A high range of mountains; the Spanish sierra. + +SERRADOR. _Span._ and _Port._ A sawyer. Although according to some +authorities this was the real name of the person mentioned in i. 138, +233, it seems that he was really a sawyer, by name José Miralles, born in +Valencia, on the borders of Aragon. He served under _El Fraile_ (The +Friar), a Guerilla chief in the Napoleonic wars, and was rather the rival +than the lieutenant of Cabrera, who imprisoned him, on which occasion he +broke both his legs in a vain attempt to escape. He subsequently took +part in the rising at Maeztrazgo, in 1844, and died in the campaign of +that year, while serving under General Villalonga. + +SERRANIA. _Span._ and _Port._ District or country of _sierras_, or +mountain ridges. + +SERVIL. _Span._ and _Port._ Servile. Applied, as a substantive, as a +party nickname to the Royalists on the outbreak of the first civil war in +1820. + +SESÓ (fem. SESÍ, plur. SESÉ, also = Spain). _Rom._ A Spaniard. In +Spanish the word signifies “brain,” P. ii. 249. + +SHAITÁN. _Arab._ Satan, the devil. + +SHEE. _Arab._ Thing. + +SHEKEL. _Hebr._ A Hebrew coin of uncertain value. The word itself +means merely “a weight.” + +SHEM. _Hebr._ Name. + +SHEM HAMPHORASH. _Hebr._ The separated, reserved, or special Name, i.e. +_Yahweh_. Always transliterated _Adonai_. Lord (a word which itself, +perhaps, contains the Span. _Don_), whence Κύριος, _Dominus_, and the +LORD, have found their way into translations of the Old Testament. Our +English “Jehovah” contains the forbidden consonants of _Yahweh_ and the +vowel points of _Adonai_. + +SHEREEF. _Arab._ Noble. + +SHILLAM EIDRI. Apparently meant for _lashon ivri_ = the Hebrew tongue. + +SHOOB. Borrovian for the Russian _shuba_, a fur cloak or pelisse. The +word has made its way into Eng. Rom. as _shooba_, a gown. + +SHRIT. Apparently for the Arabic _ishtari_ = buy. + +SIBAT. _Arab._ Slippers. More correctly, _sabbāt_. + +SIDI. _Arab._ My lord. More usually written _Said_ or _Sayyid_, the +same as the more familiar Cid. The fem. _Sitti_ = my lady, is familiar +to every lady who has visited North Africa. + +SIERRAS. _Span._ Lit. saws; applied to mountain ranges, from their +serrated outline. + +SIESTA. _Span._ Lat. _sexta_ (_hora_), noon. Noontide or afternoon +sleep. _Sext_ is one of the canonical hours of the Catholic Church. + +SIETE. _Span._ Seven. + +SIGLO. _Span._ Century, age. + +SIGNOR, SIGNORE. _Ital._ Sir. + +SIN. _Span._ Without. + +SINAH. See DAR. + +SINAR. _Rom._ To be. _Sin_, he is; _sinava_, I was. P. ii. 250; Pp. +255; M. vii. 66. + +SŌC. _Arab._ A market. More correctly, _sūḳ_. _Soc de barra_ = outer +market. + +SOCIEDAD. _Span._ Society. + +SOGA. _Span._ A rope; a well-rope; a halter for beasts; the halter for +hanging a man. + +SOLABARRI. _Rom._ Bridle. P. ii. 239; Pp. 487; M. viii. 69. + +SOMBRERO. _Span._ A hat; that which gives _sombra_, or shade. + +SON. _Span._ They are; from _ser_. + +SONACAI. _Rom._ Gold. P. ii. 227; Pp. 481; M. viii. 68. + +SOPA. _Span._ (1) Soup. (2) The entire dinner. + +SOTEA. _Port._ Flat roof; balcony; platform. + +SOU. _Port._ SOY. _Span._ I am; from _ser_. + +SOWANEE. _Rom._ A sorceress. Used by Borrow, i. 122, for the more +correct _chuajañi_, Eng. Rom. _chovihoni_. P. ii. 190; Pp. 549; M. vii. +37. + +SU. _Span._ SUUS. _Lat._ His. + +SVEND. _Dan._ Swain. + + * * * * * + +TABLA. _Span._ A board, or plank. + +TAL. _Span._ and _Port._ Such. _Que tal_? “How goes it?” + +TALIB. _Arab._ Learned, Lit. “a seeker,” used in some countries for “a +devotee.” More correctly, _ṭālib_. + +TAMBIEN. _Span._ Also, likewise, as well. + +TAN. _Span._ So. + +TARDE. _Span._ and _Port._ Afternoon, evening. + +TEATRO. _Span._ Theatre. + +TEBLEQUE. _Rom._ God the Saviour, Jesus. P. ii. 312; J. + +TENER. _Span._ To take, hold, have. See MODO. _Tuvose_, it was held, +or, thought. + +TERELAR._ Rom._ To have, hold. P. ii, 294; A. 41; Pp. 512; M. viii. +79. + +TERREIRO. _Port._ A parade, promenade. + +TERTULIA. _Span._ An assembly, conversazione. + +TINAJA. _Span._ A large earthen jar. + +TINTO. _Span._ and _Port._ Coloured. _Vino tinto_, red wine. + +TIO, TIA. _Span._ Uncle; aunt. Applied in common life as a term of +familiar address to any one, not related to the speaker. Something like +the Old English _gaffer_ and _gammer_. + +TIPOTAS. _Grk._ Nothing (πίποτε). + +TIRAR. _Span._ and _Port._ To throw, remove, shoot. _Tirar por +detras_, to kick out behind. + +TOCINO. _Span._ Bacon, pork. + +TODO. _Span._ and _Port._ All. + +TOMA. _Span._ Lit. take; as an interjection, “Come!” “Look here!” + +TOMATE. _Span._ The tomato (_Lycopersicum esculentum_). + +TONSURA. _Span._ and _Port._ (1) A cutting, of hair or wool. (2) The +first of the ecclesiastical orders. + +TORAH, or THORAH. _Hebr._ The books of the Law; the Pentateuch. + +TOREADOR. See TORERO. + +TORERO. _Span._ A professional bull-fighter. These are of three +classes—the _picadores_, or horsemen; the _bandarilleros_, or placers of +_banderillos_; and the _matador_, or _espada_. Each company, or +_cuadrilla_, of fighters consists of a _matador_, chief of the band, +three _bandarilleros_, and two _picadores_. There is also usually a +_sobresaliente_ (or understudy) _de espada_, in case of accidents; and a +certain number of _chulos_, or men with cloaks, complete the personnel of +the ring. + +TRADUCIDO. _Span._ Translated. From _traducir_. + +TRAER. _Span._ To bear, carry. + +TRAGUILLO. _Span._ Dim. of _trago_. A draught, drink. + +TRAMPA. _Span._ and _Port._ A trap, snare. + +TRINIDAD. _Span._ Trinity. + +TSADIK. _Hebr._ Righteous. Hence Tsadok, the leader of the Sadducees, +derived his name. + +TUCUE. _Rom._ Thee, with thee. See TUTE. + +TUERTO. _Span._ One-eyed. + +TUNANTE. _Span._ and _Port._ Truant; lazy scoundrel. + +TUTE. _Rom._ Thou, thee. P. i. 229; Pp. 66; M. viii. 87. + +TUVOSE. See TENER. + + * * * * * + +UNDEVEL, UNDEBEL. _Rom._ God. According to Borrow, the first syllable +of the word is the _Om_ of the Brahmins and Indian Buddhists, one of the +names of the Deity. Pott, however, denies this, ii. 75, 311; A. 285 Pp. +205; M. vii. 42; G. i. 177. + +URIA. _Basque_. City. So translated by Borrow, but I cannot find the +word. The correct Basque is _iri_ or _hiri_. + +USTED. _Span._ Contracted form of _vuestra merced_, your worship; used +for “you;” now written simply Vd or V. + +USTILAR. _Rom._ To take, take up, steal. Z. ii. * 118; J. Cf. +_ostilar_, to steal. P. ii. 72, 246. See PASTESAS. + +VALDEPEÑAS. _Span._ The red wine made in the neighbourhood of that +town, in die heart of La Mancha. It is about the best in Spain. + +VALER. _Span._ To be worth, prevail, protect. _Valgame Dios_! “May +God protect me!” “S’help me!” + +VALIDO. _Span._ and _Port._ Powerful, respected. See note, ii. 376. + +VALIENTE._ Span._ (1) As an adjective, strong or valiant. (2) As a +substantive, in a less honourable sense, as “cock of the walk,” or bully. + +VAMOS, or VAMONOS. _Span._ “Let us go!” “Come along!” + +VÁSTACO. _Span._ Stem, bud, shoot. + +VAYA. _Span._ A very common interjection or expression, “Come!” “Get +along!” “Let it go!” Imper. of _ir_, to go. + +VECINO. _Span._ An inhabitant; as an adjective, neighbouring. + +VEGA. _Span._ A meadow or plain; an open tract of level and fruitful +ground, more particularly applied to the country around Granada; +generally an alluvial tract formed by the bend of a river or expansion of +a valley. + +VELHO. _Port._ Old. + +VENTA. _Span._ VENDA. _Port._ Strictly speaking, an isolated country +inn, or house of reception on the road; and if it be not of physical +entertainment, it is at least one of moral, and accordingly figures in +prominent characters in all the personal narratives and travels in Spain. +The _venta_ is inferior in rank to the _posada_, q.v. The original +meaning of the word is “sale.” + +VERDADERO. _Span._ True. + +VERDUGO, VERDUGA. _Span._ and _Port._ Said of an exceedingly cruel +person. Prim. a switch, then a flogger, or executioner. + +VIAJE. _Span._ A voyage. + +VID. _Span._ Vine. + +VIEJO. _Span._ Old; an old man. + +VILLA. _Span._ A town; greater than an _aldea_ or village, less than a +_ciudad_ or city. + +VILLANO, VILLANA. _Span._ Countryman, peasant; country girl or woman. + +VINO. _Span._ Wine. + +VIRGEN. _Span._ VIRGO. _Lat._ Virgin. + +VISE. _Nor. Dan._ A ballad. + +VISÉ. _Fr._ Endorsed, or furnished with the official visa. As commonly +applied to passports, neither the verb nor the substantive has any exact +equivalent in English. + +VIVER. _Span._ and _Port._ To live. _Que viva_! “Long life to him!” + +VOSSÉ, or VOSSEM. _Port._ _Vossa mercé_, your worship; you. Gal. +_vusté_; Span. _usted_. See note, i. 89. + +VOY. _Span._ I am going; from _ir_. + + * * * * * + +WADY. _Arab._ River. _Wady al kebir_ = the great river, the +Guadalquivir. + +WAKHUD. _Arab._ A, the article. More correctly, _waḥid_. + +WULLAH. _Arab._ “By God!” + +WUSTUDDUR. _Arab._ Home; abode. Lit. the middle of the houses. See +DAR. + + * * * * * + +Y. _Span._ And. + +YAW. Borrovian for the Germ. _ja_ = yes. + +YDOORSHEE. _Arab._ It signifies; lit. it hurts. + +YERBA. _Span._ (1) Grass. (2) Poison. + +YESCA. _Span._ Under. + +YO. _Span._ I. + +YOUM. _Arab._ A day. + +YUDKEN. _Germ._ A little Jew; more correctly, _Jüdchen_. + + * * * * * + +ZAMARRA. _Span._ A sheepskin coat, the woolly side turned inwards; from +the Basque _echamarra_ (having the same signification), usually worn by +shepherds. The French _chamarrer_, to deck out, or bedizen, is said to +be a word of kindred origin. + +ZARZA. _Span._ A bramble. + +ZINCALO. plur. ZINCALI. _Span. Rom._ Gypsy. P. ii. 259; M. viii. 65. + +ZOHAR. _Hebr._ Brilliancy. See note, ii. 318. + + + + +INDEX. + + +Abades, ii. 209 + +Abyla, Mount (Gibil Muza), ii. 295 + +Aguilar, Antonio Garcia de, i. 282–286 + +Alcalá de Guadaira, i. 223 + +Aldea Gallega, i. 19, 58, 71 + +Alemtejo, i. 16, 72 + +Algeziras, ii. 296 + +Andalusia, Desert of, i. 224 + +Andalusians, The, ii. 261 + +Andujar, i. 253 + +Antigola, ii. 206 + +Antonio, the gypsy, i. 106 + +Antonio Buchini, i. 265; ii. 161, 171, 217 + +Aranjuez, 1. 254; ii. 202 + +Arroyolos, i. 84 + +Astorga, i. 318 + +Asturias, The, ii. 59 + +Azeca, Bridge of, 11. 192 + +Azido, Jozé Dias, i. 74 + + * * * * * + +Badajoz, i. 96, 105 + +Bailen, i. 253 + +Balmaseda, ii. 211 + +Balseiro, i. 177; ii. 154 + +Baltasar, the National, i. 167, 206 + +Baralla Pass, ii. 60 + +Basques, The, and their language, ii. 112 _et seq._ + +Beckford, William, i. 9 + +Bembibre, i. 333 + +Benedict Mol, i. 190, 382, 385; ii. 73, 165, 181 + +Bermudez, Cean, i. 266 + +Betanzos, i. 364 + +Bilbao, ii. 93 + +Bonanza, i. 214; ii. 273 + +Borrego, Don Andrés, i. 259 + +Brackenbury, John (Consul at Cadiz), ii. 288 + +Buchini, Antonio, i. 265; ii. 161, 171, 217 + +Burgos, ii. 98 + + * * * * * + +Cabrera, General, i. 233 + +Cacabelos, i. 338 + +Cadiz, i. 212; ii. 286 + +Caldas de Reyes, i. 394 + +Calzado, Pepe, ii. 101 + +Caneiro, ii. 62 + +Cantwell, Patrick, i. 280 + +Carmona, i. 224 + +Carolina, i. 253 + +Castro, John de, i. 9 + +Castro Pol, ii. 59 + +Christina, Queen Regent, i. 197 + +Chrysostom, Johannes, ii. 256 + +Cintra, i. 7 + +Clarendon, Lord, i. 164, 271; ii. 121, 124, 218 + +Cobeña, ii. 221 + +Coisa Doiro, ii. 46 + +Colhares, i. 10 + +Colunga, ii. 83 + +Compostella, i. 192, 377; ii. 183 + +Contrabandistas, Spanish, ii. 35, 45 + +Corcuvion, ii. 35 + +Cordova, i. 229, 238 + +Cordova, General, i, 180, 267 + +Correa, Joanna, ii. 355 + +Corunna, i. 367; ii. 41 + +Cuesta del Espinal, i. 228 + + * * * * * + +D’Almeida, J. Ferreira, i. 98 + +D’Azveto, Don Geronimo, i. 25, 38 + +Dehesa, The, ii. 259 + +Despeñaperros Pass, i. 254 + +Diaz, Maria, i. 256; ii. 130, 159 + +Dionysius, ii. 263 + +Doddridge, Dr. P., i. 6 + +Dueñas, i. 303 + +Duero (Douro), i. 293 + +Duyo, ii. 23 + + * * * * * + +Elvas, i. 94 + +Estremadura, i. 146 + +Estremoz, i. 87 + +Evora, i. 16, 33 + +Execution of criminals, i. 171 + + * * * * * + +Fava, Pascual, ii. 381 + +Ferrol, ii. 42 + +Feyjoo, Benito, ii. 79 + +Fielding, Henry, i. 6 + +Finisterre, Cape, i. 209; ii. 21, 24 + +Flinter, G. D. (the Irishman), ii. 92 + +Fragey, Ephraim, ii. 369 + +Fuencebadon Pass, i. 344 + + * * * * * + +Galiano, Alcala, i. 179, 181, 195 + +Galicia, i, 1, 347; ii. 59 + +Gallegan language, i. 351 + +Garcia, Sergeant, i. 197, 273 + +Gartland, Dr., i. 276 + +Gibraltar, ii. 300 + +Gijon, ii. 70 + +Gomez, i. 194, 212, 218, 233 + +Guadalquivir, i. 214; ii. 249, 272 + +Guadarrama Mountains, i. 151 + +Guadiana River, i. 102 + +Gypsies, Spanish, i. 105 + + * * * * * + +Hervey, Lord William, ii. 211 + +Hirias, Archbishop (Toledo), ii. 174 + + * * * * * + +Isturitz, Don Francis Xavier de, i. 179, 181, 196 + + * * * * * + +Jaraicejo, i. 135 + +Judaism, i. 67, 247 + + * * * * * + +Labajos, i. 210 + +La Granja, i. 197; ii. 208 + +La Mancha, i. 254 + +Lariategui, i. 262, 295 + +Las Batuecas, i. 152 + +Leganez, ii. 185 + +Leon, i. 315 + +Leyden, Dr. John, i. 76 + +Lib, Judah, ii. 317 + +Lisbon, i. 3, 15, 58, 66, 212 + +Llanes, ii. 88 + +Los Angeles, ii. 7 + +Luarca, ii. 61 + +Lugo, i. 354, 358 + +Luigi Piozzi, ii. 370 + + * * * * * + +Madrid, i. 162, 173, 256, 270; ii. 99, 121, 217, 334 + +Mafra, i. 12 + +Manzanal, i. 327 + +Manzanares, ii. 216, 248 + +Maragatos, The, i. 321 + +Medina del Campo, i. 291 + +Mendizabal, Juan Alvarez y, i. 164 + +Merida, i. 114, 125 + +Miguelets, The, i. 363 + +Mirabete Pass, i. 145 + +Mol, Benedict, i. 190, 382, 385; ii. 73, 165, 181 + +Moncloa, i. 225 + +Montaneda, ii. 96 + +Monte Almo, i. 29 + +Monte Moro, i. 28, 53, 75 + +Monte Moro Novo, i. 87 + +Montes, Francisco, i. 170 + +Moore, Sir John, i. 374 + +Moors, The, i. 116, 239 + +Munoz, i. 198 + +Muros, ii. 65 + + * * * * * + +Naval Carnero, ii. 232 + +Navias, ii. 59 + +New Castile, i. 150 + +Nogales, i. 350 + +Novales, ii. 45 + +Noyo, ii. 13 + + * * * * * + +Ocaña, ii. 204 + +Ofalia, Count, ii. 121, 124, 141 + +Old Castile, i. 274; Plains of, i. 290 + +Oliban, the secretary, i. 183, 195 + +Oñas, ii. 98 + +Oropesa, i. 150 + +Oviedo, ii. 70 + + * * * * * + +Padron, i. 392; ii. 1 + +Palencia, i. 309 + +Pascual Fava, ii. 381 + +Pedroso, i. 286 + +Pegões, 1. 24, 74 + +Peña Cerrada Pass, ii. 207 + +Peñaranda, i. 275 + +Petulengres, i. 204 + +Philippi, Mr., ii. 276, 278 + +Pico Sacro, i. 377 + +Piozzi, Luigi, i. 370 + +Pitiegua, i. 281 + +Pontevedra, i. 395 + +Portuguese Jews, i. 409 + +Puerto de Lumbreras, ii. 246 + + * * * * * + +Quesada, i. 181, 199, 202 + + * * * * * + +Rey Romero, i. 380 + +Ribida de Sella, ii. 88 + +Rivadeo, ii. 53 + +Rivas, Duke of, i. 183 + + * * * * * + +Sabocha, the robber, i. 21 + +Sagra of Toledo, The, i. 257, ii. 194 + +Saint James of Compostella, i. 192, 377 + +Salamanca, i. 275 + +Sanchez, Antonio, i. 170 + +San Lucar, i. 214; ii. 274 + +San Martin de Duyo, ii. 23 + +Santa Colombo, ii. 89 + +Santa Marta, ii. 45 + +Santander, ii. 90 + +Santi Ponce, i. 217 + +Santillana, ii. 90 + +San Vicente, ii. 89 + +Scio, Padre Filipe, i. 259 + +Segovia, ii. 209 + +Serra Dorso, i. 33, 87 + +Sevilla Francesco, i. 170, 176 + +Seville, i. 215; ii. 214, 248 + +Sierra de Buron, ii. 60 + +Sierra de Ronda, i. 215 + +Sierra Morena, i. 241 + +Soto Luino, ii. 64 + +Southern, Mr., i. 271; ii. 133, 135, 139 + + * * * * * + +Tagus, The, i. 3, 18, 145 + +Talavera, i. 155 + +Tangier, ii. 342 + +Tarifa, ii. 294, 341 + +Taylor, Baron, i. 220 + +Toledo, ii. 102–107 + +Tormes River, i. 276 + +Toro, i. 300 + +Trafalgar Bay, ii. 292 + +Triana, i. 216 + +Trujillo, i. 130 + + * * * * * + +Valladolid, i. 294 + +Vargas, ii. 187, 195 + +Vendas Novas, i. 27, 55, 74 + +Vendas Velhas, i. 21 + +Villa del Padron, i. 392; ii. 1 + +Villafranca, i. 341 + +Villa Seca, ii. 185 + +Villa Viciosa, ii. 83 + +Vigo, i. 403 + +Villiers, Sir George. _See_ Clarendon, Lord + +Viveiro, ii. 50 + + * * * * * + +Zariategui, i. 262, 295 + + * * * * * + + THE END. + + * * * * * + + LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, + STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS. + + + + +Footnotes + + +{2} See note, vol. i. p. 120. + +{12} A fanciful word of Portuguese etymology from _nuvem_, cloud = the +cloud-man. + +{14} _Inha_, when affixed to words, serves as a diminutive. It is much +in use amongst the Gallegans. It is pronounced _ínia_, the Portuguese +and Galician _nh_ being equivalent to the Spanish _ñ_. + +{22} “Flock of drunkards.” _Fato_, in Gal. as in Port. = a herd or +flock. Span. _hato_. + +{23} San Martin de Duyo, a village, according to Madoz, of sixty houses. +There are no remains of the ancient Duyo. + +{26} Galician; lit. the shore of the outer sea. + +{28} “By God! I am going too.” + +{29} Who served as a subordinate general in the Carlist armies. + +{37} “The good lad.” + +{43a} In Spanish, _guardacostas_. + +{43b} More correctly, _el Ferrol_ or _farol_, the lighthouse. Nothing +can more strikingly give the lie to the conventional taunt that Spain has +made no progress in recent years than the condition of the modern town of +el Ferrol compared with the description in the text. It is now a +flourishing and remarkably clean town of over 23,000 inhabitants, with an +arsenal not only magnificent in its construction, but filled with every +modern appliance, employing daily some 4000 skilled workmen, whose club +(_el liceo de los artesanos_) might serve as a model for similar +institutions in more “advanced” countries. It comprises a library, +recreation-room, casino, sick fund, benefit society, and school; and +lectures and evening parties, dramatic entertainments, and classes for +scientific students, are all to be found within its walls. + +{45} A little town charmingly situated on a little bay at the mouth of +the river Eo, which divides Galicia from Asturias, famous for oysters and +salmon. + +{46} Signifying in Portugese or Galician, “A thing of gold.” + +{47} Tertian ague, or intermittent three-day fever. + +{49} “Come along, my little Parrot!” + +{58a} A town on the sea-coast about half-way between Rivadeo and Aviles. + +{58b} Query. See note, p. 45. + +{59} On the right bank of the Eo, over against Rivadeo. + +{62a} The port of Oviedo. + +{62b} See the Glossary, _s.v._ COPLA. + +{66} “God bless me!” + +{67} I.e. _Bascuence_, or _Vascuence_, the Basque language. + +{70} Query, Aviles? + +{71} Job xxxix. 25: “. . . the thunder of the captains, and the +shouting.” + +{75} “Good heavens!” + +{76} I.e. _jacas_. + +{79a} The cathedral at Oviedo is one of the oldest and most interesting +foundations in Spain. The first stone was laid by Alfonso II. in 802; +the greater part of the existing edifice is of the fourteenth century. + +But the great glory of Oviedo, entitling it to rank as second among the +holy cities of Christian Spain, is the Camara Santa, and the relics +therein contained (see Burke’s _History of Spain_ vol. i. pp. 122–124, +140, 141, 147–150, 165, 275; vol. ii. pp. 8–11; and Murray’s _Handbook_, +sub. _Oviedo_). + +{79b} Benito Feyjoo was born in 1676, and having assumed the Benedictine +habit early in life, settled at length in a convent of his order at +Oviedo, where he lived for hard on fifty years. He died in 1764. + +A strange mixture of a devout Catholic and a scientific innovator, he was +an earnest student of Bacon, Newton, Pascal, Leibnitz, and others, whose +opinions he embodied in his own works. Learned, judicious, and diligent +rather than a man of genius, he was original at least as regards his +conceptions of the nature and limits of scientific research in Spain. He +kept on good terms with the Inquisition, while he continued to publish in +his _Teatro Critico_ and his _Cartas Eruditas y Curiosas_ all that the +Inquisitors would desire to remain unread; attacked the dialectics and +metaphysics then taught everywhere in Spain; maintained Bacon’s system of +induction in the physical sciences; ridiculed the general opinion as +regards eclipses, comets, magic, and divination; and laid down canons of +historical criticism which would exclude many of the most cherished +traditions of his country and his Church. The best edition of his works +is that by Campomanes, the minister of the enlightened Charles III., with +a Life of the author. 16 vols. Madrid, 1778. + +{80} Charles III. of Spain (1759–1788), the most enlightened of the +Bourbon kings. + +{82} Literally, _dry_. + +{92} George Dawson Flinter began life in an English West India regiment, +served in the Spanish American forces, and afterwards obtained a +commission in the Spanish army. In 1833, on the outbreak of the civil +war, he declared for Isabella, and served with considerable distinction +in the constitutional army. A prisoner in 1836, he was entrusted with a +high command at Toledo in 1837, but having failed to satisfy the Cortes +in an engagement in September, 1838, he cut his throat (see _Gentl. +Mag._, 1838, vol. ii. p. 553, and Duncan, _The English in Spain_, pp. 13, +189). + +{98} There is still a fairly frequented high-road from Santander to +Burgos, inasmuch as the railway from Santander to Madrid takes a more +westerly route through Palencia, the actual junction with the main line +from Irun being at Venta de Baños, a new creation of the railway not even +mentioned in the guidebooks a few years ago, and now one of the most +important stations in Spain. + +Yet in railway matters Spain has still some progress to make. From +Santander to Burgos _viâ_ Venta de Baños is just 120 English miles; but +the time occupied in the journey by train in this year 1895 is just +seventeen hours, the traveller having to leave Santander at 1 p.m. in +order to reach Burgos at 6 o’clock the following morning! + +{100} See Introduction. + +{101} “_Office of the Biblical and Foreign Society_,” rather an odd +rendering of the original title! + +{103a} The briefest of all abbreviations and modifications of the +objectionable _Carajo_. + +{103b} Rather south-south-west. + +{104} Domenico Theotocoupoulis, a Greek or Byzantine who settled at +Toledo in 1577. He is said to have been a pupil of Titian. The picture +so highly praised in the text is said by Professor Justi to be in “his +worst manner,” and is indeed a very stiff performance. There are many of +_El Greco’s_ pictures in Italy, where his work is often assigned to +Bassano, Paul Veronese, and Titian. His acknowledged masterpiece is the +Christ on Mount Calvary in the cathedral of Toledo. _El Greco_ died in +1625, after an uninterrupted residence of nearly forty years in Spain. + +{107} See _The Zincali_, part. ii. chap. vi. + +{111a} Borrow’s translation of St. Luke into Spanish gypsy was published +with the following title: _Embéo e Majaró Lucas_. _Brotoboro randado +andré la chipe griega_, _acána chibado andré o Romanó ó chipe es Zincales +de Sesé_. (No place) 1837. A new edition was published five and thirty +years later by the British and Foreign Bible Society, as _Criscote e +Majaró Lucas chibado andré o Romano ó chipe es Zincales de Sesé_. +Lundra, 1872. Both these works are now out of print, but I have had the +advantage of seeing a copy of each in the library of the Society in Queen +Victoria Street. + +{111b} _The Zincali_, part ii. ch. viii. + +{114} Modern linguistic science is so entirely at variance with these +theories that it is difficult to add a note at once modest, instructive, +or of reasonable length. On the whole it is perhaps better to leave the +chapter entirely alone. + +{116a} See the Glossary. + +{116b} _Evangelioa San Lucasen Guissan_. _El Evangelio Segun S. Lucas_. +_Traducido al vascuence_. _Madrid_: _Imprenta de la Compañia +Tipografica_. 1838. + +{117} See _Proverbes Basques suivis des Poésies Basques_, by Arnauld +Oihenart, 1847. + +{118a} See F. Michel, _Le Pays Basque_, p. 213, and the Glossary, _s.v._ +ICHASOA. + +{118b} No one who has ever read the work of this _Abbé_ would ever think +of citing it as a serious authority. It is entitled, _L’histoire des +Cantabres par l’Abbé d’Iharce de Bidassouet_. Paris, 1825. Basque, +according to the author, was the primæval language; _Noah_ being still +the Basque for _wine_ is an etymological record of the patriarch’s +unhappy inebriety! + +{118c} This work is entitled, _Euscaldun anciña anciñaco_, _etc._ +_Donostian_, 1826, by Juan Ignacio de Iztueta, with an Introduction in +Spanish, and many Basque songs with musical notation, but without +accompaniment. + +{120} See further as to the Basques, Burke’s _History of Spain_, vol. i. +App. I. + +{121a} 1838. + +{121b} See _ante_, p. 100, and Introduction. + +{121c} Ofalia was prime minister from November 30, 1837, to August, +1838, when he was succeeded by the Duke of Frias. + +{127} The mayor or chief magistrate. _Politico_ is here used in the old +sense of civic, πολιτικὸς, of the πόλις; _gefe_, now spelt _jefe_ = +chief. + +{129a} In _The Zincali_, part ii. ch. iv., Borrow places his +imprisonment in March. + +{129b} Rather _civic_; see note on p. 127. + +{131} “The city prison.” _La Corte_ is the _capital_, as well as the +_court_. + +{133} “My master! the constables, and the catchpolls, and all the other +thieves . . . ” + +{134a} See the Glossary, _s.v._ JARGON. + +{134b} “He is very skilful.” + +{136} “Are there no more?” + +{141} More like the French _Juge d’Instruction_. + +{143a} “Come along, Sir George; to your house, to your lodgings!” + +{143b} Acts xvi. 37. + +{146} People of renown. + +{147a} “Mashes” and mistresses. _Majo_ is a word of more general +signification than _manolo_. The one is a dandy, or smart fellow, all +over Spain; the other is used only of a certain class in Madrid. + +{147b} More correctly, _Carabanchel_ or _Carabancheles_, two villages a +few miles south of Madrid. + +{148} This in prison! + +{149} _E.g._ in the citadel of Pampeluna. See _Journal of the Gypsy +Lore Society_, i. 152. + +{152} Perhaps Waterloo.—[Note by Borrow.] + +{154} “It distresses me.” + +{155} Robbing the natives. + +{156} See chap. xiii. + +{164} The sun was setting, and Demos commands. “Bring water, my +children, that ye may eat bread this evening.” Borrow has translated +this song in the _Targum _(_v._ p. 343). + +{165} The treasure-digger. + +{170} See _The Zincali_, part ii. chap. iv. + +{171} The duke became prime minister in August, 1838. + +{175} In Gams’ _Series Episcoporum_, the standard authority on the +subject, the archiepiscopal see of Toledo is noted as _vacant_ from 1836 +to 1847. Nor is any hint given of how the duties of the office were +performed. Don Antonio Perez Hirias figures only as Bishop of Mallorca, +or Majorca, from December, 1825, to December, 1847. + +{178a} Kicks from behind. + +{178b} “I do not know.” + +{179a} See note, p. 103. + +{179b} “To the gallows! To the gallows!” + +{180a} “To the country! To the country!” + +{180b} “Ride on, because of the word of truth, of meekness, and +righteousness” (Ps. xlv. 5, P.B.V.). + +{188} A nickname, unhappily too commonly justified in Southern Spain, +where ophthalmia and oculists are equally dangerous. + +It is remarkable how many of the great men in Spanish history, however, +have been distinguished by this blemish: Hannibal, Viriatus, Táric, Abdur +Rahman I., and Don Juan el Tuerto in the reign of Alfonso XI. + +{190} Byron, _Don Juan_, xiii. 11. Borrow probably knew well enough +where the lines came from. _Don Juan_ had not been published more than +fifteen years at the time, and was in the zenith of its popularity. But +Byron and his ways were alike odious to the rough manliness of Borrow +(see _Lavengro_, ch. xxxix.), and, in good truth, however much the poet +“deserves to be remembered,” it is certainly not for this line, which +contains as many _suggestiones falsi_ as may be packed into one line. +Yet the “sneer” is not in the original, but in Borrow’s misquotation; +Byron wrote “smiled.” The idea of the poet having spent a handful of +gold ounces in a Genoese posada at Seville and at a bull-fight at Madrid, +that he might be competent to tell the world that Cervantes sneered +Spain’s chivalry away, is superlatively Borrovian—and delicious. The +entire passage runs thus— + + “Cervantes smiled Spain’s chivalry away; + A single laugh demolish’d the right arm + Of his own country;—seldom since that day + Has Spain had heroes.” + +{192} About thirty pounds, at the exchange of the day. + +{195a} “I wish to enlist with you.” + +{195b} “_Gee up_, donkey!” From this _arrhé_, of Arabic origin, is +derived the word _arriero_, a muleteer. + +{197} “Blessed be God!” + +{198} See note, _ante_, p. 190. + +{201} See vol. i. p. 257. + +{202} Aranjuez, the Roman _Ara Jovis_, was, until the absorption of the +great military order by the Crown under Isabella and Ferdinand, a +favourite residence of the Grand Masters of Santiago. + +{203} “Die schönen Tage in Aranjuez +Sind nun zu Ende.” + + The opening lines of _Don Carlos_. + +{204} An exceedingly ancient town, celebrated in the days before the +Roman dominion. + +{205} See Glossary, _sub. verb_. SCHOPHON. As to rabbits in Spain, see +note, vol. i. p. 25. + +{208} The modern La Granja or San Ildefonso is, in the season, anything +but desolate: the beautiful, if somewhat over-elaborate gardens, are +admirably kept up, and the general atmosphere of the plain is bright and +cheerful, though the Court of to-day prefers the sea-breezes of Biscay to +the air of the Guadarrama, when Madrid becomes, as it does, well-nigh +uninhabitable in summer. + +{211a} A particular scoundrel. His massacre of prisoners, November 9, +1838, was remarkable for its atrocity, when massacre was of daily +occurrence. See Duncan, _The English in Spain_, pp. 247, 248. + +{211b} See note, vol. i. p. 164. + +{213} August 31, 1838. + +{215} Don Carlos, who probably died a natural death in 1568. + +{217} The etymology of Andalusia is somewhat of a _crux_; the various +authorities are collected and reviewed in an appendix to Burke’s _History +of Spain_, vol. i. p. 379. The true etymology may be Vandalusia, the +abiding-place of the Vandals, though they abode in Southern Spain but a +very short time; but the word certainly came into the Spanish through the +Arabic, and not through the Latin, long years after Latin was a spoken +language. The young lady was quite right in speaking of it as _Betica_ +or _Bœtica_; though the _Terra_ would be superfluous, if not incorrect. + +{218} He had succeeded to that title on the death of his uncle, December +22, 1838. + +{219} _I.e._ “My Lord the Sustainer of the Kingdom.” See preface to +_The Zincali_, second edition. + +{221a} _Tio_. A common method of address, conveying no reference to +real relationship. So the Boers in South Africa speak of “Oom (uncle) +Paul.” + +{221b} “What beautiful, what charming reading!” + +{223} _No hay otro en el mundo_. + +{224a} See note on p. 147. + +{224b} Κατὰ τὸν τόπον καὶ ὁ τρόπος, as Antonio said.—[Note by Borrow]. +_I.e._ “As is the place, such is the character (of the people).” + +{225} Alcalá de Henares. See note, vol. i. p. 223. + +{228a} “Good night!” + +{228b} “Good night to you!” + +{234} Or _Nevski_ = of the Neva; as we have a Thames Street. + +{236} Spanish, _duende_. See p. 238. Oddly enough in _Germanía_, or +thieves’ slang, _duende_ = _ronda_, a night patrol. + +{237} Madrid is not a city or _ciudad_, but only the chief of _villas_. + +{240} In Romany, _Chuquel sos pirela cocal terela_. + +{242a} _El Nuevo Testamento Traducido al Español de la Vulgata Latino +por el Rmo. P. Phelipe Scio de S. Miguel de las Escuelas Pias Obispo +Electo de Segovia_. _Madrid_. _Imprenta á cargo de D. Joaquin de la +Barrera_. 1837. + +{242b} The church of San Gines is in the Calle del Arenal; the chapel of +Santa Cruz in the Concepcion Jerónima. + +{246} This is a curious slip; the spelling is found in the first and all +subsequent editions. The true name of the defile—it is between Velez el +Rubio and Lorca—is, as might be supposed, _La Rambla_, but the narrowest +part of the pass is known as the _Puerto de Lumbreras_ (the Pass of +Illumination), and from _Rambla_ and _Lumbrera_ Borrow or the printer of +1843 evolved the strange compound _Rumblar_! + +{248} This would naturally mean, “Most reverend sir, art thou still +saying, or, dost thou still say Mass?” which seems somewhat irrelevant. +Possibly what “the prophetess” meant to ask was, “Most reverend sir, hast +thou yet said Mass?” + +{251a} “Knowest thou the land where the lemon-trees bloom?” The song of +Mignon in Goethe’s _Wilhelm Meister_, introduced in the opera of _Faust_. + +{251b} See note, vol. i. p. 216. + +{256} Born at Amalfi, 1623, a simple fisherman. He headed the rebellion +of the Neapolitans against the Spanish viceroy, in 1647. His success as +a leader led to a revulsion of popular feeling, and he was executed or +murdered within a few days of his greatest triumph. + +{261} Chiefly in their pronunciation of the characteristic G and Z of +the Castilian as S instead of TH. The South-American Spaniards, so +largely recruited from Andalusia, maintain the same sibilation, which is +about as offensive to a true Castilian as the dropping of an H is to an +educated Englishman. + +{262} Safacoro is the Romany name for Seville; and Len Baro for the +great river, _arabicé_ Wady al Kebir, the Guadalquivir. See Glossary. + +{263} For further information about Manuel and Luis Lobo, who compiled a +manuscript collection of the pseudo-gypsy writings of _los del aficion_, +or those addicted to the _Gitanos_ and their language, see _The Zincali_, +part iii. chap. ii. + +{264a} Κύριε, voc. of κύριος, the usual mode of address, “sir.” + +{264b} The name of a famous family of Dutch printers (1594–1680). + +{266} Priests. Greek, παπᾶς; not Spanish, in which language _Papa_ +means the Pope (of Rome). + +{267} Τίποτε = nothing at all. + +{273} The secondary signification of “prosperity” or “good fortune” is +more familiar to English ears; the word having come to us by way of the +Spanish, American, and Californian mining camps. + +{274} “The Illustrious Scullion.” + +{282} Lit. a butterfly. + +{288} This was Mr. John Brackenbury. + +{292a} The great Danish poet, born in 1779, died 1850; see _ante_, note, +vol. i. p. 29. + +{292b} October 21, 1805. + +{293a} It is an American in our own day, Captain Mahan, U.S.N., who has +called attention, in his masterly _influence of Sea Power upon History_, +to the transcendent importance of the battle of Trafalgar, hardly +realized by the most patriotic Englishman, who had well-nigh forgotten +Trafalgar in celebrating the more attractive glories of Waterloo. + +{293b} Storm of east wind; wind from the Levant. + +{293c} I.e. _Kafirs_, the Arabic term of reproach, signifying an +unbeliever; one who is _not a Moslem_! + +{294} The title formally granted to this Alonzo Perez de Guzman, under +the sign-manual of King Sancho the Bravo, was that of “The Good.” His +son was not crucified, but stabbed to death by the Infante Don John, with +the knife that had been flung over the battlements of the city by the +poor lad’s father, A.D. 1294 (see _Documentos Ineditos para la Historia +de España_, tom. xxxix. pp. 1–397). + +{295} Rather of Muza, the commander-in-chief of the army that conquered +Gothic Spain in 711. Tarifa similarly perpetuates the memory of one of +his lieutenants, Tárif; and Gibraltar is Gibil Tarik, after Tarik, his +second in command (see Burke’s _History of Spain_, vol. i. pp. 110–120). + +{296a} The hill of the baboons. + +{296b} Rather, “The Island;” _Al Jezirah_. + +{298} According to Don Pascual de Gayangos, Thursday, April 30, 711. + +{301} In more modern slang, “a rock scorpion.” + +{302} Του λόγου σας, a polite locution in modern Greek, signifying +“you,” “your good self, _or_, selves.” + +{307} More correctly, the _Preobazhenski_, _Semeonovski_, and +_Findlandski polks_. The first is a very crack regiment, and was formed +by Peter the Great in 1682. In 1692 it took part in the capture of Azov +(Toll, “Nastolny Slovar,” _Encyclop._ tom. iii.). + +{309} This would have been General Sir A. Woodford, K.C.B., G.C.M.G. + +{310} “A holy man this, from the kingdoms of the East.” + +{311} A street in West Hamburg, near the port and the notorious +_Heiligegeist_, frequented by a low class of Jews and seafaring men. + +{312a} The living waters. + +{312b} Into the hands of some one else—_manû alicujus_. _Peluni_ is the +Fulaneh of the Arabs, the Don Fulano of the Spaniards; Mr. So-and-So; +Monsieur Chose. + +{314} _I.e._ “The Hill of the English,” near Vitoria. Here, in the year +1367, Don Tello, with a force of six thousand knights, cut to pieces a +body of four hundred men-at-arms and archers, under the command of Sir +Thomas Felton, Seneschal of Guienne, and his brother Sir William. See +Froissart, i. chap. 239; Ayala, _Cronicas de los Reyes de Castilla_, i. +p. 446; Mérimée, _Histoire de Don Pèdre Ier_, p. 486. + +{316} The popular name for _Etna_—an etymology most suggestive, _Mons_ +(Latin) and _gibil_ (Arabic) each signifying “a mountain.” + +{318} The book Zohar (Hebrew, “Brilliancy”) is, next to the canonical +Scripture, one of the ablest books in Hebrew literature, having been +written by the Rabbi Simeon bar Jochaï, “The Great Light” and “Spark of +Moses,” early in the second century of our era. The mysteries contained +in the Zohar are said to have been communicated to Jochaï during his +twelve years’ seclusion in a cave; and they are specially revered by a +sect of modern Jews known as Zoharites, or Sabbathians, from their +founder Sabbataï Zevi, who was born at Smyrna in 1625, and claimed to be +the true Messiah, but who, to save himself from death as an impostor, +embraced the faith of Islám at Adrianople, and died a Moslem in 1676. +Yet a hundred years later another Zoharite pretender, Jankiev Lejbovicz, +who acquired the name of Jacob Frank, of Offenbach, near Frankfort, and +died only in 1792, made himself famous in Germany. The Zoharites were +Cabalistic, as opposed to Talmudic, in their theology or theosophy, and +in later times have claimed to have much in common with Christianity.—See +M. J. Mayers (of Yarmouth), _A Brief Account of the Zoharite Jews_ +(Cambridge, 1826); and Graetz, _History of the Jews_, vol. v. pp. 125, +289. + +{322} Rabat. + +{330} 1 Kings xix. 11–13. + +{337} _On_ as a termination is usually indicative of size without +admiration, bigness rather than greatness, as in the Italian _one_. + +{343a} The tomato was hardly known in England in 1839, and was not +common for forty years after, so Borrow may be excused for giving the +word in its Spanish form. The plant was introduced into Spain from Peru +in the sixteenth century. + +{343b} “Lord of the World.” _Adun_ or _Adon_ is the well-known Hebrew +word for Lord, and is said to be the origin of the Spanish title _Don_. +_Oulem_ is the Arab ‘_Olam_. The following lines are the first poem in +the _Targum_, a collection of translations by Borrow from thirty +languages, printed at St. Petersburg in 1835:— + + “Reigned the universe’s Master, ere were earthly things begun: + When his mandate all created Ruler was the name he won; + And alone he’ll rule tremendous when all things are past and gone, + He no equal has, nor consort, he, the singular and lone, + Has no end and no beginning; his the sceptre, might and throne. + He’s my God and living Saviour, rock to whom in need I run; + He’s my banner and my refuge, fount of weal when called upon; + In his hand I place my spirit at nightfall and rise of sun, + And therewith my body also; God’s my God—I fear no one.” + +{348} In 1684, on the familiar official plea of “economy.” + +{349} “Good morning, O my lord.” + +{351} “There is no God but one.” + +{354} “Buy here, buy here.” + +{357a} This youth followed Borrow to England, where he was introduced to +Mr. Petulengro as a _pal_, but rejected by him as “no Roman.” See _The +Zincali_, Preface to Second Edition. + +{357b} “Hail, Mary, full of grace, pray for me.” + +{357c} “Remove the faithless race from the borders of the believers, +that we may gladly pay due praises to Christ.” + +{359} This has been already alluded to as regards Southern Spain. + +{360} Algiers. + +{361} Essence of white flowers. The Arabic _attar_ = essence is well +known in combination as _otto_ or _attar_ of roses. _Nuar_ is a form of +_Nawār_ = flowers. + +{362} This was still market-day in 1892. + +{364} Nowhere has the destruction of locusts been undertaken in a more +systematic manner, or carried to greater perfection than in the island of +Cyprus, where a special tax is levied by the British Government to defray +the expenses of what is called “the war.” The system is the invention of +a Cypriote gentleman, Mr. Mattei. + +{365} More commonly known as the prickly pear (_Opuntia vulgaris_). + +{367a} The house of the trades [Borrow], or rather “of the handicrafts.” + +{367b} Seashore. See the Glossary. + +{372} Friday. + +{375} The etymology of Granada is doubtful. Before the invasion of +Spain by the Arabs, a small town of Phœnician origin, known as Karnattah, +existed near Illiberis (Elvira), and probably on the site of the more +modern city of Granada. The syllable _Kar_ would, in Phœnician, signify +“a town.” The meaning of _nattah_ is unknown (Gayangos, i. 347; Casiri, +_Bib. Ar. Hisp. Esc._, ii. 251; Conde, _Hist. Dom._, i. pp. 37–51). The +supposition that the city owes its name to its resemblance to a ripe +pomegranate (_granada_) is clearly inadmissible. As in the case of Leon, +the device was adopted in consequence of its appropriateness to an +existing name—although the modern city of Granada is probably not older +than 1020. The Arabic word, moreover, for a pomegranate is _romàn_; and +Soto de Roma, the name of the Duke of Wellington’s estate in Andalusia, +means “the wood of the pomegranates;” and an _ensalada romana_ is not a +Roman, but a pomegranate salad (see Pedaza, _Hist. Eccl. de Granada_ +[1618], fol. 21, 22; Romey, _Hist._, i. 474, 475).—Burke’s _Hist. of +Spain_, vol. i. p. 116. + +{376a} The most powerful, or the most respected, man in Tangier. Power +and respect are usually enjoyed by the same individual in the East. + +{376b} “It does not signify.” + +{378} See note, vol. i. p. 240. + +{382} “Algerine, +Moor so keen, +No drink wine, +No taste swine.” + +{383a} “That is not lawful.” + +{383b} “Everything is lawful.” + +{383c} “Hail, star of the sea, benign Mother of God, and for ever +virgin, blessed gate of heaven.” + +{395} Andalusian for _ciego_. + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BIBLE IN SPAIN - VOL. 2 [OF 2]*** + + +******* This file should be named 35676-0.txt or 35676-0.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/5/6/7/35676 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Bible in Spain - Vol. 2 [of 2] + + +Author: George Borrow + +Editor: Ulick Ralph Burke + +Editor: Herbert W. Greene + +Release Date: March 25, 2011 [eBook #35676] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BIBLE IN SPAIN - VOL. 2 [OF +2]*** +</pre> +<p>Transcribed from the 1896 John Murray edition by David Price, +email ccx074@pglaf.org</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p0b.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Toledo" +title= +"Toledo" +src="images/p0s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<h1>THE BIBLE IN SPAIN;</h1> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">OR</span>, +<span class="smcap">THE JOURNEYS</span>, <span +class="smcap">ADVENTURES</span>, <span +class="smcap">AND</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">IMPRISONMENTS OF AN ENGLISHMAN</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">IN AN ATTEMPT TO CIRCULATE</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">THE SCRIPTURES IN</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">THE PENINSULA</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">by</span><br /> +GEORGE BORROW.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap"><i>a new +edition</i></span>, <span class="smcap"><i>with notes and a +glossary</i></span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">By ULICK RALPH BURKE, M.A.</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">author of</span> “<span class="smcap">a +history of spain</span>,” <span +class="smcap">etc.</span></p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap"><i>in two +volumes</i></span>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">vol. ii.</span></p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">with map and +engravings</span>.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">LONDON:<br /> +JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET.<br /> +1896.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="pageii"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. ii</span><span class="smcap">london</span>:<br +/> +<span class="smcap">printed by william clowes and sons</span>, +<span class="smcap">limited</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">stamford street and charing cross</span>.</p> +<h2><a name="pageiii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +iii</span>CONTENTS OF VOL. II.</h2> +<table> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">page</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXIX.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Arrival at Padron—Projected Enterprise—The +Alquilador—Breach of Promise—An Odd Companion—A +Plain Story—Rugged Paths—The Desertion—The +Pony—A Dialogue—Unpleasant Situation—The +Estadea—Benighted—The Hut—The Traveller’s +Pillow</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page1">1</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXX.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Autumnal Morning—The World’s +End—Corcuvion—Duyo—The Cape—A +Whale—The Outer Bay—The Arrest—The +Fisher-Magistrate—Calros Rey—Hard of +Belief—Where is your Passport?—The Beach—A +Mighty Liberal—The Handmaid—The Grand +Baintham—Eccentric Book—Hospitality</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page20">20</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXXI.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Corunna—Crossing the Bay—Ferrol—The +Dock-yard—Where are we now?—Greek +Ambassador—Lantern-Light—The +Ravine—Viveiro—Evening—Marsh and +Quagmire—Fair Words and Fair Money—The Leathern +Girth—Eyes of Lynx—The Knavish Guide</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page41">41</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXXII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Martin of Rivadeo—The Factious +Mare—Asturians—Luarca—The Seven +Bellotas—Hermits—The Asturian’s +Tale—Strange Guests—The Big +Servant—Batuschca</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page57">57</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center"><a +name="pageiv"></a><span class="pagenum">p. iv</span>CHAPTER +XXXIII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Oviedo—The Ten Gentlemen—The Swiss +again—Modest Request—The Robbers—Episcopal +Benevolence—The Cathedral—Portrait of Feijoo</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page70">70</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXXIV.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Departure from Oviedo—Villa Viciosa—The Young +Man of the Inn—Antonio’s Tale—The General and +his Family—Woful Tidings—To-morrow we die—San +Vicente—Santander—An Harangue—Flinter the +Irishman</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page82">82</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXXV.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Departure from Santander—The Night Alarm—The +Black Pass</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page95">95</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXXVI.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>State of Affairs at Madrid—The New +Ministry—Pope of Rome—The Bookseller of +Toledo—Sword-blades—Houses of Toledo—The +Forlorn Gypsy—Proceedings at Madrid—Another +Servant</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page99">99</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXXVII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Euscarra—Basque not Irish—Sanscrit and Tartar +Dialects—A Vowel Language—Popular Poetry—The +Basques—Their Persons—Basque Women</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page111">111</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER +XXXVIII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Prohibition—Gospel Persecuted—Charge of +Sorcery—Ofalia</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page121">121</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center"><a +name="pagev"></a><span class="pagenum">p. v</span>CHAPTER +XXXIX.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Two Gospels—The Alguazil—The +Warrant—The Good Maria—The Arrest—Sent to +Prison—Reflections—The Reception—The Prison +Room—Redress demanded</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page127">127</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XL.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Ofalia—The Juez—Carcel de la +Corte—Sunday in Prison—Robber Dress—Father and +Son—Characteristic Behaviour—The +Frenchman—Prison Allowance—Valley of the +Shadow—Pure Castilian—Balseiro—The +Cave—Robber Glory</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page141">141</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XLI.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Maria Diaz—Priestly +Vituperation—Antonio’s Visit—Antonio at +Service—A Scene—Benedict Mol—Wandering in +Spain—The Four Evangelien</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page159">159</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XLII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Liberation from Prison—The Apology—Human +Nature—The Greek’s Return—Church of +Rome—Light of Scripture—Archbishop of Toledo—An +Interview—Stones of Price—A Resolution—The +Foreign Language—Benedict’s Farewell—Treasure +Hunt at Compostella—Truth and Fiction</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page169">169</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XLIII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Villa Seca—Moorish House—The Puchera—The +Rustic Council—Polite Ceremonial—The Flower of +Spain—The Bridge of Azeca—The Ruined +Castle—Taking the Field—Demand for the Word—The +Old Peasant—The Curate and Blacksmith—Cheapness of +the Scriptures</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page185">185</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center"><a +name="pagevi"></a><span class="pagenum">p. vi</span>CHAPTER +XLIV.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Aranjuez—A Warning—A Night Adventure—A +Fresh Expedition—Segovia—Abades—Factious +Curas—Lopez in Prison—Rescue of Lopez</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page202">202</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XLV.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Return to Spain—Seville—A Hoary +Persecutor—Manchegan Prophetess—Antonio’s +Dream</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page214">214</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XLVI.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Work of Distribution resumed—Adventure at +Cobeña—Power of the Clergy—Rural +Authorities—Fuente la Higuera—Victoriano’s +Mishap—Village Prison—The Rope—Antonio’s +Errand—Antonio at Mass</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page220">220</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XLVII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Termination of our Rural Labours—Alarm of the +Clergy—A New Experiment—Success at +Madrid—Goblin-Alguazil—Staff of Office—The +Corregidor—An Explanation—The Pope in +England—New Testament expounded—Works of Luther</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page232">232</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XLVIII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Projected Journey—A Scene of Blood—The +Friar—Seville—Beauties of Seville—Orange Trees +and Flowers—Murillo—The Guardian +Angel—Dionysius—My Coadjutors—Demand for the +Bible</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page245">245</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XLIX.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Solitary House—The Dehesa—Johannes +Chrysostom—Manuel—Bookselling at +Seville—Dionysius and the Priests—Athens and +Rome—Proselytism—Seizure of +Testaments—Departure from Seville</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page258">258</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center"><a +name="pagevii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. vii</span>CHAPTER +L.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Night on the Guadalquivir—Gospel +Light—Bonanza—Strand of San Lucar—Andalusian +Scenery—History of a Chest—Cosas de los +Ingleses—The Two Gypsies—The Driver—The Red +Nightcap—The Steam-Boat—Christian Language</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page271">271</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER LI.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Cadiz—The Fortifications—The +Consul-General—Characteristic Anecdote—Catalan +Steamer—Trafalgar—Alonzo Guzman—Gibil +Muza—Orestes Frigate—The Hostile Lion—Works of +the Creator—Lizard of the Rock—The +Concourse—Queen of the Waters—Broken Prayer</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page286">286</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER LII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Jolly Hosteler—Aspirants for Glory—A +Portrait—Hamáles—Solomons—An +Expedition—The Yeoman Soldier—The +Excavations—The Pull by the Skirt—Judah and his +Father—Judah’s Pilgrimage—The Bushy +Beard—The False Moors—Judah and the King’s +Son—Premature Old Age</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page305">305</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER LIII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Genoese Mariners—Saint Michael’s +Cave—Midnight Abysses—Young American—A Slave +Proprietor—The Fairy Man—Infidelity</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page326">326</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER LIV.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Again on Board—The Strange Visage—The +Haji—Setting Sail—The Two Jews—American +Vessel—Tangier—Adun Oulem—The +Struggle—The Forbidden Thing</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page335">335</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center"><a +name="pageviii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. viii</span>CHAPTER +LV.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Mole—The Two Moors—Djmah of +Tangier—House of God—British Consul—Curious +Spectacle—The Moorish House—Joanna Correa—Ave +Maria</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page348">348</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER LVI.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Mahasni—Sin Samani—The +Bazaar—Moorish Saints—See the Ayana!—The +Prickly Fig—Jewish Graves—The Place of +Carcases—The Stable Boy—Horses of the +Moslem—Dar-dwag</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page359">359</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER LVII.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Strange Trio—The Mulatto—The +Peace-offering—Moors of Granada—Vive la +Guadeloupe—The Moors—Pascual Fava—Blind +Algerine—The Retreat</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page373">373</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Glossary</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page385">385</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2> +<table> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">VOL. II.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Toledo</span>. <i>Etched by</i> +<span class="smcap">Manesse</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>Frontispiece</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Segovia</span>. <i>From a Sketch +by</i> <span class="smcap">A. H. Hallam Murray</span></p> +<p> <i>Engraved by</i> <span +class="smcap">Manesse</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>To face</i> <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page210">210</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<h2><a name="page1"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 1</span>CHAPTER +XXIX.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Arrival at Padron—Projected +Enterprise—The Alquilador—Breach of Promise—An +Odd Companion—A Plain Story—Rugged Paths—The +Desertion—The Pony—A Dialogue—Unpleasant +Situation—The Estadea—Benighted—The +Hut—The Traveller’s Pillow.</p> +<p>I arrived at Padron late in the evening, on my return from +Pontevedra and Vigo. It was my intention at this place to +send my servant and horses forward to Santiago, and to hire a +guide to Cape Finisterre. It would be difficult to assign +any plausible reason for the ardent desire which I entertained to +visit this place; but I remembered that last year I had escaped +almost by a miracle from shipwreck and death on the rocky sides +of this extreme point of the Old World, and I thought that to +convey the Gospel to a place so wild and remote might perhaps be +considered an acceptable pilgrimage in the eyes of my +Maker. True it is that but one copy remained of those which +I had brought with me on this last journey; but this reflection, +far from discouraging me in my projected enterprise, produced the +contrary effect, as I called to <a name="page2"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 2</span>mind that, ever since the Lord +revealed Himself to man, it has seemed good to Him to accomplish +the greatest ends by apparently the most insufficient means; and +I reflected that this one copy might serve as an instrument for +more good than the four thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine +copies of the edition of Madrid.</p> +<p>I was aware that my own horses were quite incompetent to reach +Finisterre, as the roads or paths lie through stony ravines, and +over rough and shaggy hills, and therefore determined to leave +them behind with Antonio, whom I was unwilling to expose to the +fatigues of such a journey. I lost no time in sending for +an <i>alquilador</i>, or person who lets out horses, and +informing him of my intention. He said he had an excellent +mountain pony at my disposal, and that he himself would accompany +me; but at the same time observed, that it was a terrible journey +for man and horse, and that he expected to be paid +accordingly. I consented to give him what he demanded, but +on the express condition that he would perform his promise of +attending me himself, as I was unwilling to trust myself four or +five days amongst the hills with any low fellow of the town whom +he might select, and who it was very possible might play me some +evil turn. He replied by the term invariably used by the +Spaniards when they see doubt or distrust exhibited: “<i>No +tenga usted cuidado</i>, <a name="citation2"></a><a +href="#footnote2" class="citation">[2]</a> I will go +myself.” Having thus arranged the matter perfectly +satisfactorily, as I thought, I partook of a slight supper, and +shortly afterwards retired to repose.</p> +<p>I had requested the <i>alquilador</i> to call me the next +morning at three o’clock; he, however, did not make <a +name="page3"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 3</span>his appearance +till five, having, I suppose, overslept himself, which was indeed +my own case. I arose in a hurry, dressed, put a few things +in a bag, not forgetting the Testament, which I had resolved to +present to the inhabitants of Finisterre. I then sallied +forth and saw my friend the <i>alquilador</i>, who was holding by +the bridle the pony or <i>jaca</i> which was destined to carry me +in my expedition. It was a beautiful little animal, +apparently strong and full of life, without one single white hair +in its whole body, which was black as the plumage of the +crow.</p> +<p>Behind it stood a strange-looking figure of the biped species, +to whom, however, at the moment, I paid little attention, but of +whom I shall have plenty to say in the sequel.</p> +<p>Having asked the horse-lender whether he was ready to proceed, +and being answered in the affirmative, I bade adieu to Antonio, +and putting the pony in motion, we hastened out of the town, +taking at first the road which leads towards Santiago. +Observing that the figure which I have previously alluded to was +following close at our heels, I asked the <i>alquilador</i> who +it was, and the reason of its following us; to which he replied +that it was a servant of his, who would proceed a little way with +us and then return. So on we went at a rapid rate, till we +were within a quarter of a mile of the Convent of the Esclavitud, +a little beyond which he had informed me that we should have to +turn off from the high-road; but here he suddenly stopped short, +and in a moment we were all at a standstill. I questioned +the guide as to the reason of this, but received no answer. +The fellow’s eyes were directed to the ground, and he +seemed to be counting with the most intense solicitude the prints +<a name="page4"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 4</span>of the hoofs +of the oxen, mules, and horses in the dust of the road. I +repeated my demand in a louder voice; when, after a considerable +pause, he somewhat elevated his eyes, without, however, looking +me in the face, and said that he believed that I entertained the +idea that he himself was to guide me to Finisterre, which if I +did, he was very sorry for, the thing being quite impossible, as +he was perfectly ignorant of the way, and, moreover, incapable of +performing such a journey over rough and difficult ground, as he +was no longer the man he had been; and, over and above all that, +he was engaged that day to accompany a gentleman to Pontevedra, +who was at that moment expecting him. “But,” +continued he, “as I am always desirous of behaving like a +<i>caballero</i> to everybody, I have taken measures to prevent +your being disappointed. This person,” pointing to +the figure, “I have engaged to accompany you. He is a +most trustworthy person, and is well acquainted with the route to +Finisterre, having been thither several times with this very +<i>jaca</i> on which you are mounted. He will, besides, be +an agreeable companion to you on the way, as he speaks French and +English very well, and has been all over the world.” +The fellow ceased speaking at last; and I was so struck with his +craft, impudence, and villany, that some time elapsed before I +could find an answer. I then reproached him in the +bitterest terms for his breach of promise, and said that I was +much tempted to return to the town instantly, complain of him to +the <i>alcalde</i>, and have him punished at any expense. +To which he replied, “Sir Cavalier, by so doing you will be +nothing nearer Finisterre, to which you seem so eager to +get. Take my advice, spur on the <i>jaca</i>, for you see +it is getting late, and it <a name="page5"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 5</span>is twelve long leagues from hence to +Corcuvion, where you must pass the night; and from thence to +Finisterre is no trifle. As for the man, <i>no tenga usted +cuidado</i>, he is the best guide in Galicia, speaks English and +French, and will bear you pleasant company.”</p> +<p>By this time I had reflected that by returning to Padron I +should indeed be only wasting time, and that by endeavouring to +have the fellow punished no benefit would accrue to me; moreover, +as he seemed to be a scoundrel in every sense of the word, I +might as well proceed in the company of any person as in +his. I therefore signified my intention of proceeding, and +told him to go back, in the Lord’s name, and repent of his +sins. But having gained one point, he thought he had best +attempt another; so placing himself about a yard before the +<i>jaca</i>, he said that the price which I had agreed to pay him +for the loan of his horse (which, by-the-by, was the full sum he +had demanded) was by no means sufficient, and that before I +proceeded I must promise him two dollars more, adding that he was +either drunk or mad when he had made such a bargain. I was +now thoroughly incensed, and without a moment’s reflection, +spurred the <i>jaca</i>, which flung him down in the dust, and +passed over him. Looking back at the distance of a hundred +yards, I saw him standing in the same place, his hat on the +ground, gazing after us, and crossing himself most +devoutly. His servant, or whatever he was, far from +offering any assistance to his principal, no sooner saw the +<i>jaca </i>in motion than he ran on by its side, without word or +comment, further than striking himself lustily on the thigh with +his right palm. We soon passed the Esclavitud, and +presently afterwards turned to the left into a stony broken path +leading to fields of maize. <a name="page6"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 6</span>We passed by several farm-houses, and +at last arrived at a dingle, the sides of which were plentifully +overgrown with dwarf oaks, and which slanted down to a small dark +river shaded with trees, which we crossed by a rude bridge. +By this time I had had sufficient time to scan my odd companion +from head to foot. His utmost height, had he made the most +of himself, might perhaps have amounted to five feet one inch; +but he seemed somewhat inclined to stoop. Nature had gifted +him with an immense head, and placed it clean upon his shoulders, +for amongst the items of his composition it did not appear that a +neck had been included. Arms long and brawny swung at his +sides, and the whole of his frame was as strong built and +powerful as a wrestler’s; his body was supported by a pair +of short but very nimble legs. His face was very long, and +would have borne some slight resemblance to a human countenance +had the nose been more visible, for its place seemed to have been +entirely occupied by a wry mouth and large staring eyes. +His dress consisted of three articles: an old and tattered hat of +the Portuguese kind, broad at the crown and narrow at the eaves, +something which appeared to be a shirt, and dirty canvas +trousers. Willing to enter into conversation with him, and +remembering that the <i>alquilador</i> had informed me that he +spoke languages, I asked him, in English, if he had always acted +in the capacity of guide. Whereupon he turned his eyes with +a singular expression upon my face, gave a loud laugh, a long +leap, and clapped his hands thrice above his head. +Perceiving that he did not understand me, I repeated my demand in +French, and was again answered by the laugh, leap, and +clapping. At last he said, in broken Spanish, <a +name="page7"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 7</span>“Master +mine, speak Spanish in God’s name, and I can understand +you, and still better if you speak Gallegan, but I can promise no +more. I heard what the <i>alquilador</i> told you, but he +is the greatest <i>embustero</i> in the whole land, and deceived +you then as he did when he promised to accompany you. I +serve him for my sins; but it was an evil hour when I left the +deep sea and turned guide.” He then informed me that +he was a native of Padron, and a mariner by profession, having +spent the greater part of his life in the Spanish navy, in which +service he had visited Cuba and many parts of the Spanish +Americas, adding, “when my master told you that I should +bear you pleasant company by the way, it was the only word of +truth that has come from his mouth for a month; and long before +you reach Finisterre you will have rejoiced that the servant, and +not the master, went with you: he is dull and heavy, but I am +what you see.” He then gave two or three first-rate +somersaults, again laughed loudly, and clapped his hands. +“You would scarcely think,” he continued, “that +I drove that little pony yesterday, heavily laden, all the way +from Corunna. We arrived at Padron at two o’clock +this morning; but we are nevertheless both willing and able to +undertake a fresh journey. <i>No tenga usted cuidado</i>, +as my master said, no one ever complains of that pony or of +me.” In this kind of discourse we proceeded a +considerable way through a very picturesque country, until we +reached a beautiful village at the skirt of a mountain. +“This village,” said my guide, “is called Los +Angeles, because its church was built long since by the angels; +they placed a beam of gold beneath it, which they brought down +from heaven, and which was once a rafter of God’s <a +name="page8"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 8</span>own +house. It runs all the way under the ground from hence to +the cathedral of Compostella.”</p> +<p>Passing through the village, which he likewise informed me +possessed baths, and was much visited by the people of Santiago, +we shaped our course to the north-west, and by so doing doubled a +mountain which rose majestically over our heads, its top crowned +with bare and broken rocks, whilst on our right, on the other +side of a spacious valley, was a high range connected with the +mountains to the northward of Saint James. On the summit of +this range rose high embattled towers, which my guide informed me +were those of Altamira, an ancient and ruined castle, formerly +the principal residence in this province of the counts of that +name. Turning now due west, we were soon at the bottom of a +steep and rugged pass, which led to more elevated regions. +The ascent cost us nearly half an hour, and the difficulties of +the ground were such that I more than once congratulated myself +on having left my own horses behind, and being mounted on the +gallant little pony, which, accustomed to such paths, scrambled +bravely forward, and eventually brought us in safety to the top +of the ascent.</p> +<p>Here we entered a Gallegan cabin, or <i>choza</i>, for the +purpose of refreshing the animal and ourselves. The +quadruped ate some maize, whilst we two bipeds regaled ourselves +on some <i>broa</i> and <i>aguardiente</i>, which a woman whom we +found in the hut placed before us. I walked out for a few +minutes to observe the aspect of the country, and on my return +found my guide fast asleep on the bench where I had left +him. He sat bolt upright, his back supported against the +wall, and his legs pendulous, within three inches of the ground, +<a name="page9"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 9</span>being too +short to reach it. I remained gazing upon him for at least +five minutes, whilst he enjoyed slumbers seemingly as quiet and +profound as those of death itself. His face brought +powerfully to my mind some of those uncouth visages of saints and +abbots which are occasionally seen in the niches of the walls of +ruined convents. There was not the slightest gleam of +vitality in his countenance, which for colour and rigidity might +have been of stone, and which was as rude and battered as one of +the stone heads at Icolmkill, which have braved the winds of +twelve hundred years. I continued gazing on his face till I +became almost alarmed, concluding that life might have departed +from its harassed and fatigued tenement. On my shaking him +rather roughly by the shoulder he slowly awoke, opening his eyes +with a stare, and then closing them again. For a few +moments he was evidently unconscious of where he was. On my +shouting to him, however, and inquiring whether he intended to +sleep all day, instead of conducting me to Finisterre, he dropped +upon his legs, snatched up his hat, which lay on the table, and +instantly ran out of the door, exclaiming, “Yes, yes, I +remember; follow me, captain, and I will lead you to Finisterre +in no time.” I looked after him, and perceived that +he was hurrying at a considerable pace in the direction in which +we had hitherto been proceeding. “Stop,” said +I, “stop! will you leave me here with the pony? Stop; +we have not paid the reckoning. Stop!” He, +however, never turned his head for a moment, and in less than a +minute was out of sight. The pony, which was tied to a crib +at one end of the cabin, began now to neigh terrifically, to +plunge, and to erect its tail and mane in a most singular +manner. It tore and strained at <a name="page10"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 10</span>the halter till I was apprehensive +that strangulation would ensue. “Woman,” I +exclaimed, “where are you, and what is the meaning of all +this?” But the hostess had likewise disappeared, and +though I ran about the <i>choza</i>, shouting myself hoarse, no +answer was returned. The pony still continued to scream and +to strain at the halter more violently than ever. “Am +I beset with lunatics?” I cried, and flinging down a +<i>peseta</i> on the table, unloosed the halter, and attempted to +introduce the bit into the mouth of the animal. This, +however, I found impossible to effect. Released from the +halter, the pony made at once for the door, in spite of all the +efforts which I could make to detain it. “If you +abandon me,” said I, “I am in a pretty situation; but +there is a remedy for everything!” with which words I +sprang into the saddle, and in a moment more the creature was +bearing me at a rapid gallop in the direction, as I supposed, of +Finisterre. My position, however diverting to the reader, +was rather critical to myself. I was on the back of a +spirited animal, over which I had no control, dashing along a +dangerous and unknown path. I could not discover the +slightest vestige of my guide, nor did I pass any one from whom I +could derive any information. Indeed, the speed of the +animal was so great, that even in the event of my meeting or +overtaking a passenger, I could scarcely have hoped to exchange a +word with him. “Is the pony trained to this +work?” said I, mentally. “Is he carrying me to +some den of banditti, where my throat will be cut, or does he +follow his master by instinct?” Both of these +suspicions I, however, soon abandoned. The pony’s +speed relaxed; he appeared to have lost the road. He looked +about uneasily: at last, coming to a sandy <a +name="page11"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 11</span>spot, he put +his nostrils to the ground, and then suddenly flung himself down, +and wallowed in true pony fashion. I was not hurt, and +instantly made use of this opportunity to slip the bit into his +mouth, which previously had been dangling beneath his neck; I +then remounted in quest of the road.</p> +<p>This I soon found, and continued my way for a considerable +time. The path lay over a moor, patched with heath and +furze, and here and there strewn with large stones, or rather +rocks. The sun had risen high in the firmament, and burned +fiercely. I passed several people, men and women, who gazed +at me with surprise, wondering, probably, what a person of my +appearance could be about, without a guide, in so strange a +place. I inquired of two females whom I met whether they +had seen my guide; but they either did not or would not +understand me, and, exchanging a few words with each other in one +of the hundred dialects of the Gallegan, passed on. Having +crossed the moor, I came rather abruptly upon a convent, +overhanging a deep ravine, at the bottom of which brawled a rapid +stream.</p> +<p>It was a beautiful and picturesque spot: the sides of the +ravine were thickly clothed with wood, and on the other side a +tall black hill uplifted itself. The edifice was large, and +apparently deserted. Passing by it, I presently reached a +small village, as deserted, to all appearance, as the convent, +for I saw not a single individual, nor so much as a dog to +welcome me with his bark. I proceeded, however, until I +reached a fountain, the waters of which gushed from a stone +pillar into a trough. Seated upon this last, his arms +folded, and his eyes fixed upon the neighbouring mountain, I +beheld a figure which still frequently recurs <a +name="page12"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 12</span>to my +thoughts, especially when asleep and oppressed by the +nightmare. This figure was my runaway guide.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—Good day to you, my gentleman. The +weather is hot, and yonder water appears delicious. I am +almost tempted to dismount and regale myself with a slight +draught.</p> +<p><i>Guide</i>.—Your worship can do no better. The +day is, as you say, hot; you can do no better than drink a little +of this water. I have myself just drunk. I would not, +however, advise you to give that pony any; it appears heated and +blown.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—It may well be so. I have been +galloping at least two leagues in pursuit of a fellow who engaged +to guide me to Finisterre, but who deserted me in a most singular +manner; so much so, that I almost believe him to be a thief, and +no true man. You do not happen to have seen him?</p> +<p><i>Guide</i>.—What kind of a man might he be?</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—A short, thick fellow, very much like +yourself, with a hump upon his back, and, excuse me, of a very +ill-favoured countenance.</p> +<p><i>Guide</i>.—Ha, ha! I know him. He ran +with me to this fountain, where he has just left me. That +man, Sir Cavalier, is no thief. If he is anything at all, +he is a <i>Nuveiro</i> <a name="citation12"></a><a +href="#footnote12" class="citation">[12]</a>—a fellow who +rides upon the clouds, and is occasionally whisked away by a gust +of wind. Should you ever travel with that man again, never +allow him more than one glass of anise at a time, or he will +infallibly mount into the clouds and leave you, and then he will +ride and run till he comes to a water-brook, or knocks his head +against a fountain—<a name="page13"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 13</span>then one draught, and he is himself +again. So you are going to Finisterre, Sir Cavalier. +Now it is singular enough, that a cavalier much of your +appearance engaged me to conduct him there this morning; I, +however, lost him on the way; so it appears to me our best plan +to travel together until you find your own guide and I find my +own master.</p> +<p>It might be about two o’clock in the afternoon that we +reached a long and ruinous bridge, seemingly of great antiquity, +and which, as I was informed by my guide, was called the bridge +of Don Alonzo. It crossed a species of creek, or rather +frith, for the sea was at no considerable distance, and the small +town of Noyo lay at our right. “When we have crossed +that bridge, captain,” said my guide, “we shall be in +an unknown country, for I have never been farther than Noyo, and +as for Finisterre, so far from having been there, I never heard +of such a place; and though I have inquired of two or three +people since we have been upon this expedition, they know as +little about it as I do. Taking all things, however, into +consideration, it appears to me that the best thing we can do is +to push forward to Corcuvion, which is five mad leagues from +hence, and which we may perhaps reach ere nightfall, if we can +find the way or get any one to direct us; for, as I told you +before, I know nothing about it.” “To fine +hands have I confided myself,” said I: “however, we +had best, as you say, push forward to Corcuvion, where, +peradventure, we may hear something of Finisterre, and find a +guide to conduct us.” Whereupon, with a hop, skip, +and a jump, he again set forward at a rapid pace, stopping +occasionally at a <i>choza</i>, for the purpose, I suppose, of +making inquiries, though I understood scarcely anything of the <a +name="page14"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 14</span>jargon in +which he addressed the people, and in which they answered +him.</p> +<p>We were soon in an extremely wild and hilly country, +scrambling up and down ravines, wading brooks, and scratching our +hands and faces with brambles, on which grew a plentiful crop of +wild mulberries, to gather some of which we occasionally made a +stop. Owing to the roughness of the way, we made no great +progress. The pony followed close at the back of the guide, +so near, indeed, that its nose almost touched his shoulder. +The country grew wilder and wilder, and, since we had passed a +water-mill, we had lost all trace of human habitation. The +mill stood at the bottom of a valley shaded by large trees, and +its wheels were turning with a dismal and monotonous noise. +“Do you think we shall reach Corcuvion tonight?” said +I to the guide, as we emerged from this valley to a savage moor, +which appeared of almost boundless extent.</p> +<p><i>Guide</i>.—I do not, I do not. We shall in no +manner reach Corcuvion to-night, and I by no means like the +appearance of this moor. The sun is rapidly sinking, and +then, if there come on a haze, we shall meet the +<i>Estadéa</i>.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—What do you mean by the +<i>Estadéa</i>?</p> +<p><i>Guide</i>.—What do I mean by the +<i>Estadéa</i>? My master asks me what I mean by the +<i>Estadinha</i>. <a name="citation14"></a><a href="#footnote14" +class="citation">[14]</a> I have met the <i>Estadinha</i> but +once, and it was upon a moor something like this. I was in +company with several women, and a thick haze came on, and +suddenly a thousand lights shone above our heads in the <a +name="page15"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 15</span>haze, and +there was a wild cry, and the women fell to the ground screaming, +‘<i>Estadéa</i>! <i>Estadéa</i>!’ +and I myself fell to the ground crying out, +‘<i>Estadinha</i>!’ The <i>Estadéa</i> +are the spirits of the dead which ride upon the haze, bearing +candles in their hands. I tell you frankly, my master, that +if we meet the assembly of the souls, I shall leave you at once, +and then I shall run and run till I drown myself in the sea, +somewhere about Muros. We shall not reach Corcuvion this +night; my only hope is that we may find some <i>choza</i> upon +these moors, where we may hide our heads from the +<i>Estadinha</i>.”</p> +<p>The night overtook us ere we had traversed the moor; there +was, however, no haze, to the great joy of my guide, and a corner +of the moon partially illumined our steps. Our situation, +however, was dreary enough: we were upon the wildest heath of the +wildest province of Spain, ignorant of our way, and directing our +course we scarcely knew whither, for my guide repeatedly declared +to me that he did not believe that such a place as Finisterre +existed, or if it did exist, it was some bleak mountain pointed +out in a map. When I reflected on the character of this +guide, I derived but little comfort or encouragement: he was at +best evidently half-witted, and was by his own confession +occasionally seized with paroxysms which differed from madness in +no essential respect; his wild escapade in the morning of nearly +three leagues, without any apparent cause, and lastly his +superstitious and frantic fears of meeting the souls of the dead +upon this heath, in which event he intended, as he himself said, +to desert me and make for the sea, operated rather powerfully +upon my nerves. I likewise considered that it was quite +possible that we <a name="page16"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +16</span>might be in the route neither of Finisterre nor +Corcuvion, and I therefore determined to enter the first cabin at +which we should arrive, in preference to running the risk of +breaking our necks by tumbling down some pit or precipice. +No cabin, however, appeared in sight: the moor seemed +interminable, and we wandered on until the moon disappeared, and +we were left in almost total darkness.</p> +<p>At length we arrived at the foot of a steep ascent, up which a +rough and broken pathway appeared to lead. “Can this +be our way?” said I to the guide.</p> +<p>“There appears to be no other for us, captain,” +replied the man; “let us ascend it by all means, and when +we are at the top, if the sea be in the neighbourhood we shall +see it.”</p> +<p>I then dismounted, for to ride up such a pass in such darkness +would have been madness. We clambered up in a line, first +the guide, next the pony, with his nose as usual on his +master’s shoulder, of whom he seemed passionately fond, and +I bringing up the rear, with my left hand grasping the +animal’s tail. We had many a stumble, and more than +one fall: once, indeed, we were all rolling down the side of the +hill together. In about twenty minutes we reached the +summit, and looked around us, but no sea was visible: a black +moor, indistinctly seen, seemed to spread on every side.</p> +<p>“We shall have to take up our quarters here till +morning,” said I.</p> +<p>Suddenly my guide seized me by the hand. “There is +<i>lúme</i>, <i>senhor</i>,” said he; “there +is <i>lúme</i>.” I looked in the direction in +which he pointed, and after straining my eyes for some time, +imagined that I perceived, far below and at some distance, a +faint glow. “That is <a name="page17"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 17</span><i>lúme</i>,” shouted +the guide, “and it proceeds from the chimney of a +<i>choza</i>.”</p> +<p>On descending the eminence, we roamed about for a considerable +time, until we at last found ourselves in the midst of about six +or eight black huts. “Knock at the door of one of +these,” said I to the guide, “and inquire of the +people whether they can shelter us for the night.” He +did so, and a man presently made his appearance, bearing in his +hand a lighted firebrand.</p> +<p>“Can you shelter a <i>Cavalheiro</i> from the night and +the <i>Estadéa</i>?” said my guide.</p> +<p>“From both, I thank God,” said the man, who was an +athletic figure, without shoes and stockings, and who, upon the +whole, put me much in mind of a Munster peasant from the +bogs. “Pray enter, gentlemen, we can accommodate you +both and your <i>cavalgadura</i> besides.”</p> +<p>We entered the <i>choza</i>, which consisted of three +compartments; in the first we found straw, in the second cattle +and ponies, and in the third the family, consisting of the father +and mother of the man who admitted us, and his wife and +children.</p> +<p>“You are a Catalan, sir Cavalier, and are going to your +countrymen at Corcuvion,” said the man in tolerable +Spanish. “Ah, you are brave people, you Catalans, and +fine establishments you have on the Gallegan shores; pity that +you take all the money out of the country.”</p> +<p>Now, under all circumstances, I had not the slightest +objection to pass for a Catalan; and I rather rejoiced that these +wild people should suppose that I had powerful friends and +countrymen in the neighbourhood who were, perhaps, expecting +me. I therefore favoured <a name="page18"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 18</span>their mistake, and began with a harsh +Catalan accent to talk of the fish of Galicia, and the high +duties on salt. The eye of my guide was upon me for an +instant, with a singular expression, half serious, half droll; +he, however, said nothing, but slapped his thigh as usual, and +with a spring nearly touched the roof of the cabin with his +grotesque head. Upon inquiry, I discovered that we were +still two long leagues distant from Corcuvion, and that the road +lay over moor and hill, and was hard to find. Our host now +demanded whether we were hungry, and, upon being answered in the +affirmative, produced about a dozen eggs and some bacon. +Whilst our supper was cooking, a long conversation ensued between +my guide and the family, but as it was carried on in Gallegan, I +tried in vain to understand it. I believe, however, that it +principally related to witches and witchcraft, as the +<i>Estadéa</i> was frequently mentioned. After +supper I demanded where I could rest: whereupon the host pointed +to a trapdoor in the roof, saying that above there was a loft +where I could sleep by myself, and have clean straw. For +curiosity’s sake, I asked whether there was such a thing as +a bed in the cabin.</p> +<p>“No,” replied the man; “nor nearer than +Corcuvion. I never entered one in my life, nor any one of +my family; we sleep around the hearth, or among the straw with +the cattle.”</p> +<p>I was too old a traveller to complain, but forthwith ascended +by a ladder into a species of loft, tolerably large and nearly +empty, where I placed my cloak beneath my head, and lay down on +the boards, which I preferred to the straw, for more reasons than +one. I heard the people below talking in Gallegan for a +considerable time, and could see the gleams of the fire <a +name="page19"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 19</span>through the +interstices of the floor. The voices, however, gradually +died away, the fire sank low and could no longer be +distinguished. I dozed, started, dozed again, and dropped +finally into a profound sleep, from which I was only roused by +the crowing of the second cock.</p> +<h2><a name="page20"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +20</span>CHAPTER XXX.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Autumnal Morning—The World’s +End—Corcuvion—Duyo—The Cape—A +Whale—The Outer Bay—The Arrest—The +Fisher-Magistrate—Calros Rey—Hard of +Belief—Where is your Passport?—The Beach—A +mighty Liberal—The Handmaid—The Grand +Baintham—Eccentric Book—Hospitality.</p> +<p>It was a beautiful autumnal morning when we left the +<i>choza</i> and pursued our way to Corcuvion. I satisfied +our host by presenting him with a couple of <i>pesetas</i>, and +he requested as a favour, that if on our return we passed that +way, and were overtaken by the night, we would again take up our +abode beneath his roof. This I promised, at the same time +determining to do my best to guard against the contingency; as +sleeping in the loft of a Gallegan hut, though preferable to +passing the night on a moor or mountain, is anything but +desirable.</p> +<p>So we again started at a rapid pace along rough bridle-ways +and footpaths, amidst furze and brushwood. In about an hour +we obtained a view of the sea, and, directed by a lad whom we +found on the moor employed in tending a few miserable sheep, we +bent our course to the north-west, and at length reached the brow +of an eminence, where we stopped for some time to survey the +prospect before us.</p> +<p><a name="page21"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 21</span>It was +not without reason that the Latins gave the name of <i>Finis +terræ</i> to this district. We had arrived exactly at +such a place as in my boyhood I had pictured to myself as the +termination of the world, beyond which there was a wild sea, or +abyss, or chaos. I now saw far before me an immense ocean, +and below me a long and irregular line of lofty and precipitous +coast. Certainly in the whole world there is no bolder +coast than the Gallegan shore, from the debouchement of the Minho +to Cape Finisterre. It consists of a granite wall of savage +mountains, for the most part serrated at the top, and +occasionally broken, where bays and firths like those of Vigo and +Pontevedra intervene, running deep into the land. These +bays and firths are invariably of an immense depth, and +sufficiently capacious to shelter the navies of the proudest +maritime nations.</p> +<p>There is an air of stern and savage grandeur in everything +around, which strongly captivates the imagination. This +savage coast is the first glimpse of Spain which the voyager from +the north catches, or he who has ploughed his way across the wide +Atlantic: and well does it seem to realize all his visions of +this strange land. “Yes,” he exclaims, +“this is indeed Spain—stern, flinty Spain—land +emblematic of those spirits to which she has given birth. +From what land but that before me could have proceeded those +portentous beings who astounded the Old World and filled the New +with horror and blood. Alva and Philip, Cortez and +Pizarro—stern colossal spectres looming through the gloom +of bygone years, like yonder granite mountains through the haze, +upon the eye of the mariner. Yes, yonder is indeed Spain; +flinty, indomitable Spain; land emblematic of its +sons!”</p> +<p><a name="page22"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 22</span>As for +myself, when I viewed that wide ocean and its savage shore, I +cried, “Such is the grave, and such are its terrific sides; +those moors and wilds, over which I have passed, are the rough +and dreary journey of life. Cheered with hope, we struggle +along through all the difficulties of moor, bog, and mountain, to +arrive at—what? The grave and its dreary sides. +Oh, may hope not desert us in the last hour—hope in the +Redeemer and in God!”</p> +<p>We descended from the eminence, and again lost sight of the +sea amidst ravines and dingles, amongst which patches of pine +were occasionally seen. Continuing to descend, we at last +came, not to the sea, but to the extremity of a long narrow +firth, where stood a village or hamlet; whilst at a small +distance, on the western side of the firth, appeared one +considerably larger, which was indeed almost entitled to the +appellation of town. This last was Corcuvion; the first, if +I forget not, was called Ria de Silla. We hastened on to +Corcuvion, where I bade my guide make inquiries respecting +Finisterre. He entered the door of a wine-house, from which +proceeded much noise and vociferation, and presently returned, +informing me that the village of Finisterre was distant about a +league and a half. A man, evidently in a state of +intoxication, followed him to the door. “Are you +bound for Finisterre, <i>Cavalheiros</i>?” he shouted.</p> +<p>“Yes, my friend,” I replied, “we are going +thither.”</p> +<p>“Then you are going amongst a <i>fato de +borrachos</i>,” <a name="citation22"></a><a +href="#footnote22" class="citation">[22]</a> he answered. +“Take care that they do not play you a trick.”</p> +<p><a name="page23"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 23</span>We +passed on, and, striking across a sandy peninsula at the back of +the town, soon reached the shore of an immense bay, the +north-westernmost end of which was formed by the far-famed cape +of Finisterre, which we now saw before us stretching far into the +sea.</p> +<p>Along a beach of dazzling white sand we advanced towards the +cape, the bourne of our journey. The sun was shining +brightly, and every object was illumined by his beams. The +sea lay before us like a vast mirror, and the waves which broke +upon the shore were so tiny as scarcely to produce a +murmur. On we sped along the deep winding bay, overhung by +gigantic hills and mountains. Strange recollections began +to throng upon my mind. It was upon this beach that, +according to the tradition of all ancient Christendom, Saint +James, the patron saint of Spain, preached the Gospel to the +heathen Spaniards. Upon this beach had once stood an +immense commercial city, the proudest in all Spain. This +now desolate bay had once resounded with the voices of myriads, +when the keels and commerce of all the then known world were +wafted to Duyo. <a name="citation23"></a><a href="#footnote23" +class="citation">[23]</a></p> +<p>“What is the name of this village?” said I to a +woman, as we passed by five or six ruinous houses at the bend of +the bay, ere we entered upon the peninsula of Finisterre.</p> +<p>“This is no village,” said the Gallegan, +“this is no village, Sir Cavalier; this is a city, this is +Duyo.”</p> +<p>So much for the glory of the world! These huts were all +that the roaring sea and the tooth of time had left of Duyo, the +great city! Onward now to Finisterre.</p> +<p><a name="page24"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 24</span>It was +mid-day when we reached the village of Finisterre, consisting of +about one hundred houses, and built on the southern side of the +peninsula, just before it rises into the huge bluff head which is +called the Cape. We sought in vain for an inn or +<i>venta</i>, where we might stable our beast; at one moment we +thought that we had found one, and had even tied the animal to +the manger. Upon our going out, however, he was instantly +untied and driven forth into the street. The few people +whom we saw appeared to gaze upon us in a singular manner. +We, however, took little notice of these circumstances, and +proceeded along the straggling street until we found shelter in +the house of a Castilian shopkeeper, whom some chance had brought +to this corner of Galicia—this end of the world. Our +first care was to feed the animal, who now began to exhibit +considerable symptoms of fatigue. We then requested some +refreshment for ourselves; and in about an hour, a tolerably +savoury fish, weighing about three pounds, and fresh from the +bay, was prepared for us by an old woman who appeared to +officiate as housekeeper. Having finished our meal, I and +my uncouth companion went forth, and prepared to ascend the +mountain.</p> +<p>We stopped to examine a small dismantled fort or battery +facing the bay, and, whilst engaged in this examination, it more +than once occurred to me that we were ourselves the objects of +scrutiny and investigation; indeed, I caught a glimpse of more +than one countenance peering upon us through the holes and chasms +of the walls. We now commenced ascending Finisterre; and, +making numerous and long <i>détours</i>, we wound our way +up its flinty sides. The sun had reached the top of heaven, +whence he showered upon <a name="page25"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 25</span>us perpendicularly his brightest and +fiercest rays. My boots were torn, my feet cut, and the +perspiration streamed from my brow. To my guide, however, +the ascent appeared to be neither toilsome nor difficult. +The heat of the day for him had no terrors, no moisture was wrung +from his tanned countenance; he drew not one short breath; and +hopped upon the stones and rocks with all the provoking agility +of a mountain goat. Before we had accomplished one-half of +the ascent, I felt myself quite exhausted. I reeled and +staggered. “Cheer up, master mine; be of good cheer, +and have no care,” said the guide. “Yonder I +see a wall of stones; lie down beneath it in the +shade.” He put his long and strong arm round my +waist, and, though his stature compared with mine was that of a +dwarf, he supported me as if I had been a child to a rude wall +which seemed to traverse the greater part of the hill, and served +probably as a kind of boundary. It was difficult to find a +shady spot: at last he perceived a small chasm, perhaps scooped +by some shepherd as a couch in which to enjoy his +<i>siesta</i>. In this he laid me gently down, and, taking +off his enormous hat, commenced fanning me with great +assiduity. By degrees I revived, and, after having rested +for a considerable time, I again attempted the ascent, which, +with the assistance of my guide, I at length accomplished.</p> +<p>We were now standing at a great altitude between two bays, the +wilderness of waters before us. Of all the ten thousand +barks which annually plough those seas in sight of that old cape, +not one was to be descried. It was a blue shiny waste, +broken by no object save the black head of a spermaceti whale, +which would occasionally show itself at the top, casting up <a +name="page26"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 26</span>thin jets of +brine. The principal bay, that of Finisterre, as far as the +entrance, was beautifully variegated by an immense shoal of +<i>sardinhas</i>, on whose extreme skirts the monster was +probably feasting. From the other side of the cape we +looked down upon a smaller bay, the shore of which was overhung +by rocks of various and grotesque shapes; this is called the +outer bay, or, in the language of the country, <i>Praia do mar de +fora</i>: <a name="citation26"></a><a href="#footnote26" +class="citation">[26]</a> a fearful place in seasons of wind and +tempest, when the long swell of the Atlantic pouring in is broken +into surf and foam by the sunken rocks with which it +abounds. Even on the calmest day there is a rumbling and a +hollow roar in that bay which fill the heart with uneasy +sensations.</p> +<p>On all sides there was grandeur and sublimity. After +gazing from the summit of the cape for nearly an hour, we +descended.</p> +<p>On reaching the house where we had taken up our temporary +habitation, we perceived that the portal was occupied by several +men, some of whom were reclining on the floor drinking wine out +of small earthen pans, which are much used in this part of +Galicia. With a civil salutation I passed on, and ascended +the staircase to the room in which we had taken our repast. +Here there was a rude and dirty bed, on which I flung myself, +exhausted with fatigue. I determined to take a little +repose, and in the evening to call the people of the place +together, to read a few chapters of the Scripture, and then to +address them with a little Christian exhortation. I was +soon asleep, but my slumbers were by no means tranquil. I +thought I was surrounded with difficulties of various kinds, +amongst rocks and ravines, vainly endeavouring to <a +name="page27"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 27</span>extricate +myself; uncouth visages showed themselves amidst the trees and in +the hollows, thrusting out cloven tongues, and uttering angry +cries. I looked around for my guide, but could not find +him; methought, however, that I heard his voice down a deep +dingle. He appeared to be talking of me. How long I +might have continued in these wild dreams I know not. I was +suddenly, however, seized roughly by the shoulder, and nearly +dragged from the bed. I looked up in amazement, and by the +light of the descending sun I beheld hanging over me a wild and +uncouth figure; it was that of an elderly man, built as strong as +a giant, with much beard and whisker, and huge bushy eyebrows, +dressed in the habiliments of a fisherman; in his hand was a +rusty musket.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—Who are you, and what do you want?</p> +<p><i>Figure</i>.—Who I am matters but little. Get up +and follow me; it is you I want.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—By what authority do you thus presume to +interfere with me?</p> +<p><i>Figure</i>.—By the authority of the <i>justicia</i> +of Finisterre. Follow me peaceably, Calros, or it will be +the worse for you.</p> +<p>“Calros,” said I, “what does the person +mean?” I thought it, however, most prudent to obey +his command, and followed him down the staircase. The shop +and the portal were now thronged with the inhabitants of +Finisterre, men, women, and children; the latter for the most +part in a state of nudity, and with bodies wet and dripping, +having been probably summoned in haste from their gambols in the +brine. Through this crowd the figure whom I have attempted +to describe pushed his way with an air of authority.</p> +<p>On arriving in the street, he laid his heavy hand <a +name="page28"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 28</span>upon my arm, +not roughly, however. “It is Calros! it is +Calros!” said a hundred voices; “he has come to +Finisterre at last, and the <i>justicia</i> have now got hold of +him.” Wondering what all this could mean, I attended +my strange conductor down the street. As we proceeded, the +crowd increased every moment, following and vociferating. +Even the sick were brought to the doors to obtain a view of what +was going forward, and a glance at the redoubtable Calros. +I was particularly struck by the eagerness displayed by one man, +a cripple, who, in spite of the entreaties of his wife, mixed +with the crowd, and having lost his crutch, hopped forward on one +leg, exclaiming, “<i>Carracho</i>! <i>tambien voy +yo</i>!” <a name="citation28"></a><a href="#footnote28" +class="citation">[28]</a></p> +<p>We at last reached a house of rather larger size than the +rest; my guide, having led me into a long low room, placed me in +the middle of the floor, and then hurrying to the door, he +endeavoured to repulse the crowd who strove to enter with +us. This he effected, though not without considerable +difficulty, being once or twice compelled to have recourse to the +butt of his musket to drive back unauthorized intruders. I +now looked round the room. It was rather scantily +furnished: I could see nothing but some tubs and barrels, the +mast of a boat, and a sail or two. Seated upon the tubs +were three or four men coarsely dressed, like fishermen or +shipwrights. The principal personage was a surly +ill-tempered looking fellow of about thirty-five, whom eventually +I discovered to be the <i>alcalde</i> of Finisterre, and lord of +the house in which we now were. In a corner I caught a +glimpse of my guide, who was evidently in durance, two stout +fishermen standing before him, one with a musket and the other <a +name="page29"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 29</span>with a +boat-hook. After I had looked about me for a minute, the +<i>alcalde</i>, giving his whiskers a twist, thus addressed +me:—</p> +<p>“Who are you, where is your passport, and what brings +you to Finisterre?”</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—I am an Englishman. Here is my +passport, and I came to see Finisterre.</p> +<p>This reply seemed to discomfit them for a moment. They +looked at each other, then at my passport. At length the +<i>alcalde</i>, striking it with his finger, bellowed forth:</p> +<p>“This is no Spanish passport; it appears to be written +in French.”</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—I have already told you that I am a +foreigner. I of course carry a foreign passport.</p> +<p><i>Alcalde</i>.—Then you mean to assert that you are not +<i>Calros Rey</i>.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—I never heard before of such a king, nor +indeed of such a name.</p> +<p><i>Alcalde</i>.—Hark to the fellow! he has the audacity +to say that he has never heard of Calros the pretender, who calls +himself king.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—If you mean by Calros, the pretender Don +Carlos, all I can reply is, that you can scarcely be +serious. You might as well assert that yonder poor fellow, +my guide, whom I see you have made prisoner, is his nephew, the +<i>Infante</i> Don Sebastian. <a name="citation29"></a><a +href="#footnote29" class="citation">[29]</a></p> +<p><i>Alcalde</i>.—See, you have betrayed yourself; that is +the very person we suppose him to be.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—It is true that they are both +hunchbacks. But how can I be like Don Carlos? I have +nothing the appearance of a Spaniard, and am nearly a foot taller +than the pretender.</p> +<p><a name="page30"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +30</span><i>Alcalde</i>.—That makes no difference; you of +course carry many waistcoats about you, by means of which you +disguise yourself, and appear tall or low according to your +pleasure.</p> +<p>This last was so conclusive an argument that I had of course +nothing to reply to it. The <i>alcalde</i> looked around +him in triumph, as if he had made some notable discovery. +“Yes, it is Calros; it is Calros,” said the crowd at +the door. “It will be as well to have these men shot +instantly,” continued the <i>alcalde</i>; “if they +are not the two pretenders, they are at any rate two of the +factious.”</p> +<p>“I am by no means certain that they are either one or +the other,” said a gruff voice.</p> +<p>The <i>justicia</i> of Finisterre turned their eyes in the +direction from which these words proceeded, and so did I. +Our glances rested upon the figure who held watch at the +door. He had planted the barrel of his musket on the floor, +and was now leaning his chin against the butt.</p> +<p>“I am by no means certain that they are either one or +the other,” repeated he, advancing forward. “I +have been examining this man,” pointing to myself, +“and listening whilst he spoke, and it appears to me that +after all he may prove an Englishman; he has their very look and +voice. Who knows the English better than Antonio de la +Trava, and who has a better right? Has he not sailed in +their ships; has he not eaten their biscuit; and did he not stand +by Nelson when he was shot dead?”</p> +<p>Here the <i>alcalde</i> became violently incensed. +“He is no more an Englishman than yourself,” he +exclaimed; “if he were an Englishman would he have come in +this manner, skulking across the land? Not so, I <a +name="page31"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 31</span>trow. +He would have come in a ship, recommended to some of us, or to +the Catalans. He would have come to trade—to buy; but +nobody knows him in Finisterre, nor does he know anybody, and the +first thing, moreover, that he does when he reaches this place is +to inspect the fort, and to ascend the mountain, where, no doubt, +he has been marking out a camp. What brings him to +Finisterre, if he is neither Calros nor a <i>bribon</i> of a +<i>faccioso</i>?”</p> +<p>I felt that there was a good deal of justice in some of these +remarks, and I was aware, for the first time, that I had indeed +committed a great imprudence in coming to this wild place, and +among these barbarous people, without being able to assign any +motive which could appear at all valid in their eyes. I +endeavoured to convince the <i>alcalde</i> that I had come across +the country for the purpose of making myself acquainted with the +many remarkable objects which it contained, and of obtaining +information respecting the character and condition of the +inhabitants. He could understand no such motives. +“What did you ascend the mountain for?” +“To see prospects.” +“<i>Disparate</i>! I have lived at Finisterre forty +years, and never ascended that mountain. I would not do it +in a day like this for two ounces of gold. You went to take +altitudes, and to mark out a camp.” I had, however, a +staunch friend in old Antonio, who insisted, from his knowledge +of the English, that all I said might very possibly be +true. “The English,” said he, “have more +money than they know what to do with, and on that account they +wander all over the world, paying dearly for what no other people +care a groat for.” He then proceeded, notwithstanding +the frowns of the <i>alcalde</i>, to examine me in the English +language. His <a name="page32"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +32</span>own entire knowledge of this tongue was confined to two +words—<i>knife</i> and <i>fork</i>, which words I rendered +into Spanish by their equivalents, and was forthwith pronounced +an Englishman by the old fellow, who, brandishing his musket, +exclaimed:—</p> +<p>“This man is not Calros; he is what he declares himself +to be, an Englishman, and whosoever seeks to injure him shall +have to do with Antonio de la Trava, <i>el valiente de +Finisterra</i>.” No person sought to impugn this +verdict, and it was at length determined that I should be sent to +Corcuvion, to be examined by the <i>alcalde mayor</i> of the +district. “But,” said the <i>alcalde</i> of +Finisterre, “what is to be done with the other +fellow? He at least is no Englishman. Bring him +forward, and let us hear what he has to say for himself. +Now, fellow, who are you, and what is your master?”</p> +<p><i>Guide</i>.—I am Sebastianillo, a poor broken mariner +of Padron, and my master for the present is the gentleman whom +you see, the most valiant and wealthy of all the English. +He has two ships at Vigo laden with riches. I told you so +when you first seized me up there in our <i>posada</i>.</p> +<p><i>Alcalde</i>.—Where is your passport?</p> +<p><i>Guide</i>.—I have no passport. Who would think +of bringing a passport to such a place as this, where I +don’t suppose there are two individuals who can read? +I have no passport; my master’s passport of course includes +me.</p> +<p><i>Alcalde</i>.—It does not. And since you have no +passport, and have confessed that your name is Sebastian, you +shall be shot. Antonio de la Trava, do you and the +musketeers lead this Sebastianillo forth, and shoot him before +the door.</p> +<p><a name="page33"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +33</span><i>Antonio de la Trava</i>.—With much pleasure, +<i>Señor Alcalde</i>, since you order it. With +respect to this fellow, I shall not trouble myself to +interfere. He at least is no Englishman. He has more +the look of a wizard or <i>nuveiro</i>; one of those devils who +raise storms and sink launches. Moreover, he says he is +from Padron, and those of that place are all thieves and +drunkards. They once played me a trick, and I would gladly +be at the shooting of the whole <i>pueblo</i>.</p> +<p>I now interfered, and said that if they shot the guide they +must shoot me too; expatiating at the same time on the cruelty +and barbarity of taking away the life of a poor unfortunate +fellow who, as might be seen at the first glance, was only +half-witted; adding, moreover, that if any person was guilty in +this case it was myself, as the other could only be considered in +the light of a servant acting under my orders.</p> +<p>“The safest plan, after all,” said the +<i>alcalde</i>, “appears to be to send you both prisoners +to Corcuvion, where the head <i>alcalde</i> can dispose of you as +he thinks proper. You must, however, pay for your escort; +for it is not to be supposed that the housekeepers of Finisterre +have nothing else to do than to ramble about the country with +every chance fellow who finds his way to this town.” +“As for that matter,” said Antonio, “I will +take charge of them both. I am the <i>valiente</i> of +Finisterre, and fear no two men living. Moreover, I am sure +that the captain here will make it worth my while, else he is no +Englishman. Therefore let us be quick, and set out for +Corcuvion at once, as it is getting late. First of all, +however, captain, I must search you and your baggage. You +have no arms, of course? But it is best to make all +sure.”</p> +<p><a name="page34"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 34</span>Long +ere it was dark I found myself again on the pony, in company with +my guide, wending our way along the beach in the direction of +Corcuvion. Antonio de la Trava tramped heavily on before, +his musket on his shoulder.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—Are you not afraid, Antonio, to be thus +alone with two prisoners, one of whom is on horseback? If +we were to try, I think we could overpower you.</p> +<p><i>Antonio de la Trava</i>.—I am the <i>valiente de +Finisterra</i>, and I fear no odds.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—Why do you call yourself the +<i>valiente</i> of Finisterre?</p> +<p><i>Antonio de la Trava</i>.—The whole district call me +so. When the French came to Finisterre and demolished the +fort, three perished by my hand. I stood on the mountain, +up where I saw you scrambling to-day. I continued firing at +the enemy, until three detached themselves in pursuit of +me. The fools! two perished amongst the rocks by the fire +of this musket, and as for the third, I beat his head to pieces +with the stock. It is on that account that they call me the +<i>valiente</i> of Finisterre.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—How came you to serve with the English +fleet? I think I heard you say that you were present when +Nelson fell.</p> +<p><i>Antonio de la Trava</i>.—I was captured by your +countrymen, captain; and as I had been a sailor from my +childhood, they were glad of my services. I was nine months +with them, and assisted at Trafalgar. I saw the English +admiral die. You have something of his face, and your +voice, when you spoke, sounded in my ears like his own. I +love the English, and on that account I saved you. Think +not that I would <a name="page35"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +35</span>toil along these sands with you if you were one of my +own countrymen. Here we are at Duyo, captain. Shall +we refresh?</p> +<p>We did refresh, or rather Antonio de la Trava refreshed, +swallowing pan after pan of wine, with a thirst which seemed +unquenchable. “That man was a greater wizard than +myself,” whispered Sebastian, my guide, “who told us +that the drunkards of Finisterre would play us a +trick.” At length the old hero of the Cape slowly +rose, saying that we must hasten on to Corcuvion, or the night +would overtake us by the way.</p> +<p>“What kind of person is the <i>alcalde</i> to whom you +are conducting me?” said I.</p> +<p>“Oh, very different from him of Finisterre,” +replied Antonio. “This is a young +<i>Señorito</i>, lately arrived from Madrid. He is +not even a Gallegan. He is a mighty liberal, and it is +owing chiefly to his orders that we have lately been so much on +the alert. It is said that the Carlists are meditating a +descent on these parts of Galicia. Let them only come to +Finisterre; we are liberals there to a man, and the old +<i>valiente</i> is ready to play the same part as in the time of +the French. But, as I was telling you before, the +<i>alcalde</i> to whom I am conducting you is a young man, and +very learned, and, if he thinks proper, he can speak English to +you, even better than myself, notwithstanding I was a friend of +Nelson, and fought by his side at Trafalgar.”</p> +<p>It was dark night before we reached Corcuvion. Antonio +again stopped to refresh at a wine-shop, after which he conducted +us to the house of the <i>alcalde</i>. His steps were by +this time not particularly steady, and on arriving at the gate of +the house, he stumbled <a name="page36"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 36</span>over the threshold and fell. He +got up with an oath, and instantly commenced thundering at the +door with the stock of his musket. “Who is it?” +at length demanded a soft female voice in Gallegan. +“The <i>valiente</i> of Finisterre,” replied Antonio; +whereupon the gate was unlocked, and we beheld before us a very +pretty female with a candle in her hand. “What brings +you here so late, Antonio?” she inquired. “I +bring two prisoners, <i>mi pulida</i>,” replied +Antonio. “<i>Ave Maria</i>!” she +exclaimed. “I hope they will do no harm.” +“I will answer for one,” replied the old man; +“but as for the other, he is a <i>nuveiro</i>, and has sunk +more ships than all his brethren in Galicia. But be not +afraid, my beauty,” he continued, as the female made the +sign of the cross: “first lock the gate, and then show me +the way to the <i>alcalde</i>. I have much to tell +him.” The gate was locked, and bidding us stay below +in the court-yard, Antonio followed the young woman up a stone +stair, whilst we remained in darkness below.</p> +<p>After the lapse of about a quarter of an hour we again saw the +candle gleam upon the staircase, and the young female +appeared. Coming up to me, she advanced the candle to my +features, on which she gazed very intently. After a long +scrutiny she went to my guide, and having surveyed him still more +fixedly, she turned to me, and said, in her best Spanish, +“<i>Señor</i> Cavalier, I congratulate you on your +servant. He is the best-looking <i>mozo</i> in all +Galicia. <i>Vaya</i>! if he had but a coat to his back, and +did not go barefoot, I would accept him at once as a +<i>novio</i>; but I have unfortunately made a vow never to marry +a poor man, but only one who has got a heavy purse and can buy me +fine clothes. So you <a name="page37"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 37</span>are a Carlist, I suppose? +<i>Vaya</i>! I do not like you the worse for that. +But, being so, how went you to Finisterre, where they are all +<i>Cristinos</i> and <i>negros</i>? Why did you not go to +my village? None would have meddled with you there. +Those of my village are of a different stamp to the drunkards of +Finisterre. Those of my village never interfere with honest +people. <i>Vaya</i>! how I hate that drunkard of Finisterre +who brought you; he is so old and ugly; were it not for the love +which I bear to the <i>Señor Alcalde</i>, I would at once +unlock the gate and bid you go forth, you and your servant, <i>el +buen mozo</i>”. <a name="citation37"></a><a +href="#footnote37" class="citation">[37]</a></p> +<p>Antonio now descended. “Follow me,” said he; +“his worship the <i>alcalde</i> will be ready to receive +you in a moment.” Sebastian and myself followed him +upstairs to a room, where, seated behind a table, we beheld a +young man of low stature, but handsome features, and very +fashionably dressed. He appeared to be inditing a letter, +which, when he had concluded, he delivered to a secretary to be +transcribed. He then looked at me for a moment fixedly, and +the following conversation ensued between us:—</p> +<p><i>Alcalde</i>.—I see that you are an Englishman, and my +friend Antonio here informs me that you have been arrested at +Finisterre.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—He tells you true; and but for him I +believe that I should have fallen by the hands of those savage +fishermen.</p> +<p><i>Alcalde</i>.—The inhabitants of Finisterre are brave, +and are all liberals. Allow me to look at your +passport? Yes, all in form. Truly it was very +ridiculous that they should have arrested you as a Carlist.</p> +<p><a name="page38"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +38</span><i>Myself</i>.—Not only as a Carlist, but as Don +Carlos himself.</p> +<p><i>Alcalde</i>.—Oh! most ridiculous; mistake a +countryman of the grand Baintham for such a Goth!</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—Excuse me, sir, you speak of the grand +somebody.</p> +<p><i>Alcalde</i>.—The grand Baintham. He who has +invented laws for all the world. I hope shortly to see them +adopted in this unhappy country of ours.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—Oh! you mean Jeremy Bentham. Yes! a +very remarkable man in his way.</p> +<p><i>Alcalde</i>.—In his way! in all ways. The most +universal genius which the world ever produced:—a Solon, a +Plato, and a Lope de Vega.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—I have never read his writings. I +have no doubt that he was a Solon; and as you say, a Plato. +I should scarcely have thought, however, that he could be ranked +as a poet with Lope de Vega.</p> +<p><i>Alcalde</i>.—How surprising! I see, indeed, +that you know nothing of his writings, though an +Englishman. Now, here am I, a simple <i>alcalde</i> of +Galicia, yet I possess all the writings of Baintham on that +shelf, and I study them day and night.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—You doubtless, sir, possess the English +language.</p> +<p><i>Alcalde</i>.—I do. I mean that part of it which +is contained in the writings of Baintham. I am most truly +glad to see a countryman of his in these Gothic +wildernesses. I understand and appreciate your motives for +visiting them: excuse the incivility and rudeness which you have +experienced. But we will endeavour to make you +reparation. You are this moment free: but it is late; I +must find you a lodging for the night. I know one close by +which will just suit you. Let us <a name="page39"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 39</span>repair thither this moment. +Stay, I think I see a book in your hand.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—The New Testament.</p> +<p><i>Alcalde</i>.—What book is that?</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—A portion of the sacred writings, the +Bible.</p> +<p><i>Alcalde</i>.—Why do you carry such a book with +you?</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—One of my principal motives in visiting +Finisterre was to carry this book to that wild place.</p> +<p><i>Alcalde</i>.—Ha, ha! how very singular. Yes, I +remember. I have heard that the English highly prize this +eccentric book. How very singular that the countrymen of +the grand Baintham should set any value upon that old monkish +book!</p> +<p>It was now late at night, and my new friend attended me to the +lodging which he had destined for me, and which was at the house +of a respectable old female, where I found a clean and +comfortable room. On the way I slipped a gratuity into the +hand of Antonio, and on my arrival, formally, and in the presence +of the <i>alcalde</i>, presented him with the Testament, which I +requested he would carry back to Finisterre, and keep in +remembrance of the Englishman in whose behalf he had so +effectually interposed.</p> +<p><i>Antonio</i>.—I will do so, your worship, and when the +winds blow from the north-west, preventing our launches from +putting to sea, I will read your present. Farewell, my +captain, and when you next come to Finisterre, I hope it will be +in a valiant English bark, with plenty of contraband on board, +and not across the country on a pony, in company with +<i>nuveiros</i> and men of Padron.</p> +<p>Presently arrived the handmaid of the <i>alcalde</i> with a +basket, which she took into the kitchen, where she prepared an +excellent supper for her master’s friend. <a +name="page40"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 40</span>On its being +served up the <i>alcalde</i> bade me farewell, having first +demanded whether he could in any way forward my plans.</p> +<p>“I return to Saint James to-morrow,” I replied, +“and I sincerely hope that some occasion will occur which +will enable me to acquaint the world with the hospitality which I +have experienced from so accomplished a scholar as the +<i>Alcalde</i> of Corcuvion.”</p> +<h2><a name="page41"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +41</span>CHAPTER XXXI.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Corunna—Crossing the +Bay—Ferrol—The Dock-yard—Where are we +now?—Greek Ambassador—Lantern-Light—The +Ravine—Viveiro—Evening—Marsh and +Quagmire—Fair Words and Fair Money—The Leathern +Girth—Eyes of Lynx—The Knavish Guide.</p> +<p>From Corcuvion I returned to St. James and Corunna, and now +began to make preparation for directing my course to the +Asturias. In the first place I parted with my Andalusian +horse, which I considered unfit for the long and mountainous +journey I was about to undertake, his constitution having become +much debilitated from his Gallegan travels. Owing to horses +being exceedingly scarce at Corunna, I had no difficulty in +disposing of him at a far higher price than he originally cost +me. A young and wealthy merchant of Corunna, who was a +national guardsman, became enamoured of his glossy skin and long +mane and tail. For my own part, I was glad to part with him +for more reasons than one; he was both vicious and savage, and +was continually getting me into scrapes in the stables of the +<i>posadas</i> where we slept or baited. An old Castilian +peasant, whose pony he had maltreated, once said to me, +“Sir Cavalier, if you have any love or respect for +yourself, get rid, I beseech you, of that beast, who is capable +of proving the ruin <a name="page42"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +42</span>of a kingdom.” So I left him behind at +Corunna, where I subsequently learned that he became glandered +and died. Peace to his memory!</p> +<p>From Corunna I crossed the bay to Ferrol, whilst Antonio with +our remaining horse followed by land, a rather toilsome and +circuitous journey, although the distance by water is scarcely +three leagues. I was very sea-sick during the passage, and +lay almost senseless at the bottom of the small launch in which I +had embarked, and which was crowded with people. The wind +was adverse, and the water rough. We could make no sail, +but were impelled along by the oars of five or six stout +mariners, who sang all the while Gallegan ditties. Suddenly +the sea appeared to have become quite smooth, and my sickness at +once deserted me. I rose upon my feet and looked +around. We were in one of the strangest places +imaginable. A long and narrow passage overhung on either +side by a stupendous barrier of black and threatening +rocks. The line of the coast was here divided by a natural +cleft, yet so straight and regular that it seemed not the work of +chance but design. The water was dark and sullen, and of +immense depth. This passage, which is about a mile in +length, is the entrance to a broad basin, at whose farther +extremity stands the town of Ferrol.</p> +<p>Sadness came upon me as soon as I entered this place. +Grass was growing in the streets, and misery and distress stared +me in the face on every side. Ferrol is the grand naval +arsenal of Spain, and has shared in the ruin of the once splendid +Spanish navy: it is no longer thronged with those thousand +shipwrights who prepared for sea the tremendous three-deckers and +long frigates, the greater part of which <a +name="page43"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 43</span>were +destroyed at Trafalgar. Only a few ill-paid and +half-starved workmen still linger about, scarcely sufficient to +repair any <i>guarda costa</i> <a name="citation43a"></a><a +href="#footnote43a" class="citation">[43a]</a> which may put in +dismantled by the fire of some English smuggling schooner from +Gibraltar. Half the inhabitants of Ferrol <a +name="citation43b"></a><a href="#footnote43b" +class="citation">[43b]</a> beg their bread; and amongst these, as +it is said, are not unfrequently found retired naval officers, +many of them maimed or otherwise wounded, who are left to pine in +indigence: their pensions or salaries having been allowed to run +three or four years in arrear, owing to the exigencies of the +times. A crowd of importunate beggars followed me to the +<i>posada</i>, and even attempted to penetrate to the apartment +to which I was conducted. “Who are you?” said I +to a woman who flung herself at my feet, and who bore in her +countenance evident marks of former gentility. “A +widow, sir,” she replied, in very good French; “a +widow of a brave officer, once admiral of this port.” +The misery and degradation of modern Spain are nowhere so +strikingly manifested as at Ferrol.</p> +<p>Yet even here there is still much to admire. +Notwithstanding its present state of desolation, it contains some +good streets, and abounds with handsome houses. <a +name="page44"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 44</span>The +<i>alameda</i> is planted with nearly a thousand elms, of which +almost all are magnificent trees, and the poor Ferrolese, with +the genuine spirit of localism so prevalent in Spain, boast that +their town contains a better public walk than Madrid, of whose +<i>prado</i>, when they compare the two, they speak in terms of +unmitigated contempt. At one end of this <i>alameda</i> +stands the church, the only one in Ferrol. To this church I +repaired the day after my arrival, which was Sunday. I +found it quite insufficient to contain the number of worshippers +who, chiefly from the country, not only crowded the interior, +but, bareheaded, were upon their knees before the door to a +considerable distance down the walk.</p> +<p>Parallel with the <i>alameda</i> extends the wall of the naval +arsenal and dock. I spent several hours in walking about +these places, to visit which it is necessary to procure a written +permission from the captain-general of Ferrol. They filled +me with astonishment. I have seen the royal dock-yards of +Russia and England, but, for grandeur of design and costliness of +execution, they cannot for a moment compare with these wonderful +monuments of the bygone naval pomp of Spain. I shall not +attempt to describe them, but content myself with observing that +the oblong basin, which is surrounded with a granite mole, is +capacious enough to permit a hundred first-rates to lie +conveniently in ordinary: but instead of such a force, I saw only +a sixty-gun frigate and two brigs lying in this basin; and to +this inconsiderable number of vessels is the present war marine +of Spain reduced.</p> +<p>I waited for the arrival of Antonio two or three days at +Ferrol, and still he came not: late one evening, however, as I +was looking down the street, I <a name="page45"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 45</span>perceived him advancing, leading our +only horse by the bridle. He informed me that, at about +three leagues from Corunna, the heat of the weather and the flies +had so distressed the animal that it had fallen down in a kind of +fit, from which it had been only relieved by copious bleeding, on +which account he had been compelled to halt for a day upon the +road. The horse was evidently in a very feeble state; and +had a strange rattling in its throat, which alarmed me at +first. I, however, administered some remedies, and in a few +days deemed him sufficiently recovered to proceed.</p> +<p>We accordingly started from Ferrol, having first hired a pony +for myself, and a guide who was to attend us as far as Rivadeo, +<a name="citation45"></a><a href="#footnote45" +class="citation">[45]</a> twenty leagues from Ferrol, and on the +confines of the Asturias. The day at first was fine, but +ere we reached Novales, a distance of three leagues, the sky +became overcast, and a mist descended, accompanied by a drizzling +rain. The country through which we passed was very +picturesque. At about two in the afternoon we could descry +through the mist the small fishing-town of Santa Marta on our +left, with its beautiful bay. Travelling along the summit +of a line of hills, we presently entered a chestnut forest, which +appeared to be without limit: the rain still descended, and kept +up a ceaseless pattering among the broad green leaves. +“This is the commencement of the autumnal rains,” +said the guide. “Many is the wetting that you will +get, my masters, before you reach Oviedo.” +“Have you ever been as far as Oviedo?” I +demanded. “No,” he replied, “and once +only to Rivadeo, the place to <a name="page46"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 46</span>which I am now conducting you, and I +tell you frankly that we shall soon be in wildernesses where the +way is hard to find, especially at night, and amidst rain and +waters. I wish I were fairly back to Ferrol, for I like not +this route, which is the worst in Galicia, in more respects than +one; but where my master’s pony goes, there must I go too; +such is the life of us guides.” I shrugged my +shoulders at this intelligence, which was by no means cheering, +but made no answer. At length, about nightfall, we emerged +from the forest, and presently descended into a deep valley at +the foot of lofty hills.</p> +<p>“Where are we now?” I demanded of the guide, as we +crossed a rude bridge at the bottom of the valley, down which a +rivulet swollen by the rain foamed and roared. “In +the valley of Coisa Doiro,” <a name="citation46"></a><a +href="#footnote46" class="citation">[46]</a> he replied; +“and it is my advice that we stay here for the night and do +not venture among those hills, through which lies the path to +Viveiro; for as soon as we get there, <i>adios</i>! I shall +be bewildered, which will prove the destruction of us +all.” “Is there a village nigh?” +“Yes, the village is right before us, and we shall be there +in a moment.” We soon reached the village, which +stood amongst some tall trees at the entrance of a pass which led +up amongst the hills. Antonio dismounted, and entered two +or three of the cabins, but presently came to me, saying, +“We cannot stay here, <i>mon maître</i>, without +being devoured by vermin; we had better be amongst the hills than +in this place. There is neither fire nor light in these +cabins, and the rain is streaming through the roofs.” +The guide, however, refused to proceed. “I could +scarcely find my way amongst those hills by daylight,” he +cried surlily, <a name="page47"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +47</span>“much less at night, ’midst storm and +<i>bretima</i>.” We procured some wine and maize +bread from one of the cottages. Whilst we were partaking of +these, Antonio said, “<i>Mon maître</i>, the best +thing we can do in our present situation is to hire some fellow +of this village to conduct us through the hills to Viveiro. +There are no beds in this place, and if we lie down in the litter +in our damp clothes we shall catch a tertian of Galicia. <a +name="citation47"></a><a href="#footnote47" +class="citation">[47]</a> Our present guide is of no +service; we must therefore find another to do his +duty.” Without waiting for a reply, he flung down the +crust of <i>broa</i> which he was munching and disappeared. +I subsequently learned that he went to the cottage of the +<i>alcalde</i>, and demanded, in the queen’s name, a guide +for the Greek ambassador, who was benighted on his way to the +Asturias. In about ten minutes I again saw him, attended by +the local functionary, who, to my surprise, made me a profound +bow, and stood bare-headed in the rain. “His +excellency,” shouted Antonio, “is in need of a guide +to Viveiro. People of our description are not compelled to +pay for any service which they may require; however, as his +excellency has bowels of compassion, he is willing to give three +<i>pesetas</i> to any competent person who will accompany him to +Viveiro, and as much bread and wine as he can eat and drink on +his arrival.” “His excellency shall be +served,” said the alcalde; “however, as the way is +long and the path is bad, and there is much <i>bretima</i> +amongst the hills, it appears to me that, besides the bread and +wine, his excellency can do no less than offer four pesetas to +the guide who may be willing to accompany him to Viveiro; and I +know no one better than my own son-in-law, Juanito.” +“Content, <a name="page48"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +48</span><i>Señor Alcalde</i>,” I replied; +“produce the guide, and the extra <i>peseta</i> shall be +forthcoming in due season.”</p> +<p>Soon appeared Juanito with a lantern in his hand. We +instantly set forward. The two guides began conversing in +Gallegan. “<i>Mon maître</i>,” said +Antonio, “this new scoundrel is asking the old one what he +thinks we have got in our portmanteaus.” Then, +without awaiting my answer, he shouted, “Pistols, ye +barbarians! Pistols, as you shall learn to your cost, if +you do not cease speaking in that gibberish and converse in +Castilian.” The Gallegans were silent, and presently +the first guide dropped behind, whilst the other with the lantern +moved before. “Keep in the rear,” said Antonio +to the former, “and at a distance: know one thing, +moreover, that I can see behind as well as before. <i>Mon +maître</i>,” said he to me, “I don’t +suppose these fellows will attempt to do us any harm, more +especially as they do not know each other; it is well, however, +to separate them, for this is a time and place which might tempt +any one to commit robbery and murder too.”</p> +<p>The rain still continued to fall uninterruptedly, the path was +rugged and precipitous, and the night was so dark that we could +only see indistinctly the hills which surrounded us. Once +or twice our guide seemed to have lost his way: he stopped, +muttered to himself, raised his lantern on high, and would then +walk slowly and hesitatingly forward. In this manner we +proceeded for three or four hours, when I asked the guide how far +we were from Viveiro. “I do not know exactly where we +are, your worship,” he replied, “though I believe we +are in the route. We can scarcely, however, be less than +two mad leagues from Viveiro.” “Then we shall +not arrive there before morning,” interrupted Antonio, <a +name="page49"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 49</span>“for a +mad league of Galicia means at least two of Castile; and perhaps +we are doomed never to arrive there, if the way thither leads +down this precipice.” As he spoke, the guide seemed +to descend into the bowels of the earth. +“Stop,” said I; “where are you +going?” “To Viveiro, <i>Senhor</i>,” +replied the fellow: “this is the way to Viveiro; there is +no other. I now know where we are.” The light +of the lantern shone upon the dark red features of the guide, who +had turned round to reply, as he stood some yards down the side +of a dingle or ravine overgrown with thick trees, beneath whose +leafy branches a frightfully steep path descended. I +dismounted from the pony, and delivering the bridle to the other +guide, said, “Here is your master’s horse; if you +please you may lead him down that abyss, but as for myself I wash +my hands of the matter.” The fellow, without a word +of reply, vaulted into the saddle, and with a <i>vamos</i>, +<i>Perico</i>! <a name="citation49"></a><a href="#footnote49" +class="citation">[49]</a> to the pony, impelled the creature to +the descent. “Come, <i>Senhor</i>,” said he +with the lantern, “there is no time to be lost; my light +will be presently extinguished, and this is the worst bit in the +whole road.” I thought it very probable that he was +about to lead us to some den of cut-throats, where we might be +sacrificed; but, taking courage, I seized our own horse by the +bridle, and followed the fellow down the ravine amidst rocks and +brambles. The descent lasted nearly ten minutes, and ere we +had entirely accomplished it, the light in the lantern went out, +and we remained in nearly total darkness.</p> +<p>Encouraged, however, by the guide, who assured us there was no +danger, we at length reached the bottom of the ravine; here we +encountered a rill of water, <a name="page50"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 50</span>through which we were compelled to +wade as high as the knee. In the midst of the water I +looked up and caught a glimpse of the heavens through the +branches of the trees, which all around clothed the shelving +sides of the ravine, and completely embowered the channel of the +stream: to a place more strange and replete with gloom and horror +no benighted traveller ever found his way. After a short +pause we commenced scaling the opposite bank, which we did not +find so steep as the other, and a few minutes’ exertion +brought us to the top.</p> +<p>Shortly afterwards the rain abated, and the moon arising, cast +a dim light through the watery mists. The way had become +less precipitous, and in about two hours we descended to the +shore of an extensive creek, along which we proceeded till we +reached a spot where many boats and barges lay with their keels +upward upon the sand. Presently we beheld before us the +walls of Viveiro, upon which the moon was shedding its sickly +lustre. We entered by a lofty and seemingly ruinous +archway, and the guide conducted us at once to the +<i>posada</i>.</p> +<p>Every person in Viveiro appeared to be buried in profound +slumber; not so much as a dog saluted us with his bark. +After much knocking we were admitted into the <i>posada</i>, a +large and dilapidated edifice. We had scarcely housed +ourselves and horses when the rain began to fall with yet more +violence than before, attended with much thunder and +lightning. Antonio and I, exhausted with fatigue, betook +ourselves to flock beds in a ruinous chamber, into which the rain +penetrated through many a cranny, whilst the guides ate bread and +drank wine till the morning.</p> +<p>When I arose I was gladdened by the sight of a <a +name="page51"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 51</span>fine +day. Antonio forthwith prepared a savoury breakfast of +stewed fowl, of which we stood in much need after the ten-league +journey of the preceding day over the ways which I have attempted +to describe. I then walked out to view the town, which +consists of little more than one long street, on the side of a +steep mountain thickly clad with forest and fruit-trees. At +about ten we continued our journey, accompanied by our first +guide, the other having returned to Coisa Doiro some hours +previously.</p> +<p>Our route throughout this day was almost constantly within +sight of the shores of the Cantabrian sea, whose windings we +followed. The country was barren, and in many parts covered +with huge stones: cultivated spots, however, were to be seen, +where vines were growing. We met with but few human +habitations. We, however, journeyed on cheerfully, for the +sun was once more shining in full brightness, gilding the wild +moors, and shining upon the waters of the distant sea, which lay +in unruffled calmness.</p> +<p>At evening fall we were in the neighbourhood of the shore, +with a range of wood-covered hills on our right. Our guide +led us towards a creek bordered by a marsh, but he soon stopped, +and declared that he did not know whither he was conducting +us.</p> +<p>“<i>Mon maître</i>,” said Antonio, +“let us be our own guides; it is, as you see, of no use to +depend upon this fellow, whose whole science consists in leading +people into quagmires.”</p> +<p>We therefore turned aside, and proceeded along the marsh for a +considerable distance, till we reached a narrow path which led us +into a thick wood, where we soon became completely +bewildered. On a sudden, after wandering about a +considerable time, we heard <a name="page52"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 52</span>the noise of water, and presently the +clack of a wheel. Following the sound, we arrived at a low +stone mill, built over a brook; here we stopped and shouted, but +no answer was returned. “The place is +deserted,” said Antonio; “here, however, is a path, +which, if we follow it, will doubtless lead us to some human +habitation. So we went along the path, which, in about ten +minutes, brought us to the door of a cabin, in which we saw +lights. Antonio dismounted and opened the door: “Is +there any one here who can conduct us to Rivadeo?” he +demanded.</p> +<p>“<i>Senhor</i>,” answered a voice, “Rivadeo +is more than five leagues from here, and, moreover, there is a +river to cross.”</p> +<p>“Then to the next village,” continued Antonio.</p> +<p>“I am a <i>vecino</i> of the next village, which is on +the way to Rivadeo,” said another voice, “and I will +lead you thither, if you will give me fair words, and, what is +better, fair money.”</p> +<p>A man now came forth, holding in his hand a large stick. +He strode sturdily before us, and in less than half an hour led +us out of the wood. In another half-hour he brought us to a +group of cabins situated near the sea; he pointed to one of +these, and having received a <i>peseta</i>, bade us farewell.</p> +<p>The people of the cottage willingly consented to receive us +for the night; it was much more cleanly and commodious than the +wretched huts of the Gallegan peasantry in general. The +ground floor consisted of a keeping room and stable, whilst above +was a long loft, in which were some neat and comfortable flock +beds. I observed several masts and sails of boats. +The family consisted of two brothers, with their wives and +families. One was a fisherman; but <a +name="page53"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 53</span>the other, +who appeared to be the principal person, informed me that he had +resided for many years in service at Madrid, and, having amassed +a small sum, he had at length returned to his native village, +where he had purchased some land, which he farmed. All the +family used the Castilian language in their common discourse, and +on inquiry I learned that the Gallegan was not much spoken in +that neighbourhood. I have forgotten the name of this +village, which is situated on the estuary of the Foz, which rolls +down from Mondonedo. In the morning we crossed this estuary +in a large boat, with our horses, and about noon arrived at +Rivadeo.</p> +<p>“Now, your worship,” said the guide, who had +accompanied us from Ferrol, “I have brought you as far as I +bargained, and a hard journey it has been: I therefore hope you +will suffer Perico and myself to remain here to-night at your +expense, and to-morrow we will go back; at present we are both +sorely tired.”</p> +<p>“I never mounted a better pony than Perico,” said +I, “and never met with a worse guide than yourself. +You appear to be perfectly ignorant of the country, and have done +nothing but bring us into difficulties. You may, however, +stay here for the night, as you say you are tired, and to-morrow +you may return to Ferrol, where I counsel you to adopt some other +trade.” This was said at the door of the +<i>posada</i> of Rivadeo.</p> +<p>“Shall I lead the horses to a stable?” said the +fellow.</p> +<p>“As you please,” said I.</p> +<p>Antonio looked after him for a moment, as he was leading the +animals away, and then, shaking his head, followed slowly +after. In about a quarter of an hour <a +name="page54"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 54</span>he returned, +laden with the furniture of our own horse, and with a smile upon +his countenance. “<i>Mon maître</i>,” +said he, “I have throughout the journey had a bad opinion +of this fellow, and now I have detected him: his motive in +requesting permission to stay was a desire to purloin something +from us. He was very officious in the stable about our +horse, and I now miss the new leathern girth which secured the +saddle, and which I observed him looking at frequently on the +road. He has by this time doubtless hid it somewhere; we +are quite secure of him, however, for he has not yet received the +hire for the pony, nor the gratuity for himself.”</p> +<p>The guide returned just as he had concluded speaking. +Dishonesty is always suspicious. The fellow cast a glance +upon us, and probably beholding in our countenances something +which he did not like, he suddenly said, “Give me the +horse-hire and my own <i>propina</i>, for Perico and I wish to be +off instantly.”</p> +<p>“How is this?” said I; “I thought you and +Perico were both fatigued, and wished to rest here for the night: +you have soon recovered from your weariness.”</p> +<p>“I have thought over the matter,” said the fellow, +“and my master will be angry if I loiter here: pay up, +therefore, and let us go.”</p> +<p>“Certainly,” said I, “if you wish it. +Is the horse furniture all right?”</p> +<p>“Quite so,” said he; “I delivered it all to +your servant.”</p> +<p>“It is all here,” said Antonio, “with the +exception of the leathern girth.”</p> +<p>“I have not got it,” said the guide.</p> +<p>“Of course not,” said I. “Let us +proceed to the stable; we shall perhaps find it there.”</p> +<p><a name="page55"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 55</span>To the +stable we went, which we searched through: no girth, however, was +forthcoming. “He has got it buckled round his middle +beneath his pantaloons, <i>mon maître</i>,” said +Antonio, whose eyes were moving about like those of a lynx; +“I saw the protuberance as he stooped down. However, +let us take no notice: he is here surrounded by his countrymen, +who, if we were to seize him, might perhaps take his part. +As I said before, he is in our power, as we have not paid +him.”</p> +<p>The fellow now began to talk in Gallegan to the bystanders +(several persons having collected), wishing the <i>Denho</i> to +take him if he knew anything of the missing property. +Nobody, however, seemed inclined to take his part; and those who +listened only shrugged their shoulders. We returned to the +portal of the <i>posada</i>, the fellow following us, clamouring +for the horse-hire and <i>propina</i>. We made him no +answer, and at length he went away, threatening to apply to the +<i>justicia</i>; in about ten minutes, however, he came running +back with the girth in his hand. “I have just found +it,” said he, “in the street: your servant dropped +it.”</p> +<p>I took the leather and proceeded very deliberately to count +out the sum to which the horse-hire amounted, and having +delivered it to him in the presence of witnesses, I said, +“During the whole journey you have been of no service to us +whatever; nevertheless, you have fared like ourselves, and have +had all you could desire to eat and drink. I intended, on +your leaving us, to present you, moreover, with a <i>propina</i> +of two dollars; but since, notwithstanding our kind treatment, +you endeavoured to pillage us, I will not give you a +<i>cuarto</i>: go, therefore, about your business.”</p> +<p>All the audience expressed their satisfaction at this <a +name="page56"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 56</span>sentence, and +told him that he had been rightly-served, and that he was a +disgrace to Galicia. Two or three women crossed themselves, +and asked him if he was not afraid that the <i>Denho</i>, whom he +had invoked, would take him away. At last, a +respectable-looking man said to him, “Are you not ashamed +to have attempted to rob two innocent strangers?”</p> +<p>“Strangers!” roared the fellow, who was by this +time foaming with rage, “innocent strangers, +<i>carracho</i>! they know more of Spain and Galicia, too, than +the whole of us. Oh, <i>Denho</i>, that servant is no man, +but a wizard, a <i>nuveiro</i>.—Where is Perico?”</p> +<p>He mounted Perico, and proceeded forthwith to another +<i>posada</i>. The tale, however, of his dishonesty had +gone before him, and no person would house him; whereupon he +returned on his steps, and seeing me looking out of the window of +the house, he gave a savage shout, and shaking his fist at me, +galloped out of the town, the people pursuing him with hootings +and revilings.</p> +<h2><a name="page57"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +57</span>CHAPTER XXXII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Martin of Rivadeo—The Factious +Mare—Asturians—Luarca—The Seven +Bellotas—Hermits—The Asturian’s +Tale—Strange Guests—The Big +Servant—Batuschca.</p> +<p>“What may your business be?” said I to a short, +thick, merry-faced fellow in a velveteen jerkin and canvas +pantaloons, who made his way into my apartment in the dusk of the +evening.</p> +<p>“I am Martin of Rivadeo, your worship,” replied +the man, “an <i>alquilador</i> by profession. I am +told that you want a horse for your journey into the Asturias +to-morrow, and of course a guide: now, if that be the case, I +counsel you to hire myself and mare.”</p> +<p>“I am become tired of guides,” I replied; +“so much so that I was thinking of purchasing a pony, and +proceeding without any guide at all. The last which we had +was an infamous character.”</p> +<p>“So I have been told, your worship, and it was well for +the <i>bribon</i> that I was not in Rivadeo when the affair to +which you allude occurred. But he was gone with the pony +Perico before I came back, or I would have bled the fellow to a +certainty with my knife. He is a disgrace to the +profession, which is one of the most honourable and ancient in +the world. Perico himself must have been ashamed of him, +for Perico, <a name="page58"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +58</span>though a pony, is a gentleman, one of many capacities, +and well known upon the roads. He is only inferior to my +mare.”</p> +<p>“Are you well acquainted with the road to Oviedo?” +I demanded.</p> +<p>“I am not, your worship; that is, no farther than +Luarca, <a name="citation58a"></a><a href="#footnote58a" +class="citation">[58a]</a> which is the first day’s +journey. I do not wish to deceive you, therefore let me go +with you no farther than that place; though perhaps I might serve +for the whole journey, for though I am unacquainted with the +country, I have a tongue in my head, and nimble feet to run and +ask questions. I will, however, answer for myself no +farther than Luarca, where you can please yourselves. Your +being strangers is what makes me wish to accompany you, for I +like the conversation of strangers, from whom I am sure to gain +information both entertaining and profitable. I wish, +moreover, to convince you that we guides of Galicia are not all +thieves, which I am sure you will not suppose if you only permit +me to accompany you as far as Luarca.”</p> +<p>I was so much struck with the fellow’s good humour and +frankness, and more especially by the originality of character +displayed in almost every sentence which he uttered, that I +readily engaged him to guide us to Luarca; whereupon he left me, +promising to be ready with his mare at eight next morning.</p> +<p>Rivadeo is one of the principal seaports of Galicia, and is +admirably situated for commerce, on a deep firth, into which the +river Mirando <a name="citation58b"></a><a href="#footnote58b" +class="citation">[58b]</a> debouches. It contains many +magnificent buildings, and an extensive <a +name="page59"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 59</span>square or +<i>plaza</i>, which is planted with trees. I observed +several vessels in the harbour; and the population, which is +rather numerous, exhibited none of those marks of misery and +dejection which I had lately observed among the Ferrolese.</p> +<p>On the morrow Martin of Rivadeo made his appearance at the +appointed hour with his mare. It was a lean haggard animal, +not much larger than a pony; it had good points, however, and was +very clean in its hinder legs, and Martin insisted that it was +the best animal of its kind in all Spain. “It is a +factious mare,” said he, “and I believe an +Alavese. When the Carlists came here it fell lame, and they +left it behind, and I purchased it for a dollar. It is not +lame now, however, as you shall soon see.”</p> +<p>We had now reached the firth which divides Galicia from the +Asturias. A kind of barge was lying about two yards from +the side of the quay, waiting to take us over. Towards this +Martin led his mare, and giving an encouraging shout, the +creature without any hesitation sprang over the intervening space +into the barge. “I told you she was a +<i>facciosa</i>,” said Martin; “none but a factious +animal would have taken such a leap.”</p> +<p>We all embarked in the barge and crossed over the firth, which +is in this place nearly a mile broad, to Castro Pol, <a +name="citation59"></a><a href="#footnote59" +class="citation">[59]</a> the first town in the Asturias. I +now mounted the factious mare, whilst Antonio followed on my own +horse. Martin led the way, exchanging jests with every +person whom he met on the road, and occasionally enlivening the +way with an extemporaneous song.</p> +<p>We were now in the Asturias, and about noon we reached Navias, +a small fishing-town, situate on a <i>ria</i> <a +name="page60"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 60</span>or firth: in +the neighbourhood are ragged mountains called the Sierra de +Buron, which stand in the shape of a semicircle. We saw a +small vessel in the harbour, which we subsequently learned was +from the Basque provinces, come for a cargo of cider or +<i>sagadua</i>, the beverage so dearly loved by the +Basques. As we passed along the narrow street, Antonio was +hailed with an “<i>Ola</i>!” from a species of shop +in which three men, apparently shoemakers, were seated. He +stopped for some time to converse with them, and when he joined +us at the <i>posada</i> where we halted, I asked him who they +were: “<i>Mon maître</i>,” said he, +“<i>ce sont des messieurs de ma connoissance</i>. I +have been fellow-servant at different times with all three; and I +tell you beforehand, that we shall scarcely pass through a +village in this country where I shall not find an +acquaintance. All the Asturians, at some period of their +lives, make a journey to Madrid, where, if they can obtain a +situation, they remain until they have scraped up sufficient to +turn to advantage in their own country; and as I have served in +all the great houses in Madrid, I am acquainted with the greatest +part of them. I have nothing to say against the Asturians, +save that they are close and penurious whilst at service; but +they are not thieves, neither at home nor abroad, and though we +must have our wits about us in their country, I have heard we may +travel from one end of it to the other without the slightest fear +of being either robbed or ill-treated, which is not the case in +Galicia, where we were always in danger of having our throats +cut.”</p> +<p>Leaving Navias, we proceeded through a wild desolate country, +till we reached the pass of Baralla, which lies up the side of a +huge wall of rocks, which at a <a name="page61"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 61</span>distance appear of a light green +colour, though perfectly bare of herbage or plants of any +description.</p> +<p>“This pass,” said Martin of Rivadeo, “bears +a very evil reputation, and I should not like to travel it after +sunset. It is not infested by robbers, but by things much +worse, the <i>duendes</i> of two friars of Saint Francis. +It is said that in the old time, long before the convents were +suppressed, two friars of the order of Saint Francis left their +convent to beg. It chanced that they were very successful, +but as they were returning at nightfall by this pass, they had a +quarrel about what they had collected, each insisting that he had +done his duty better than the other; at last, from high words +they fell to abuse, and from abuse to blows. What do you +think these demons of friars did? They took off their +cloaks, and at the end of each they made a knot, in which they +placed a large stone, and with these they thrashed and belaboured +each other till both fell dead. Master, I know not which +are the worst plagues, friars, curates, or sparrows:</p> +<blockquote><p>‘May the Lord God preserve us from evil +birds three:<br /> +From all friars and curates and sparrows that be;<br /> +For the sparrows eat up all the corn that we sow,<br /> +The friars drink down all the wine that we grow,<br /> +Whilst the curates have all the fair dames at their nod:<br /> +From these three evil curses preserve us, Lord +God.’”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>In about two hours from this time we reached Luarca, the +situation of which is most singular. It stands in a deep +hollow, whose sides are so precipitous that it is impossible to +descry the town until you stand just above it. At the +northern extremity of this hollow is a small harbour, the sea +entering by a narrow cleft. We found a large and +comfortable <i>posada</i>, and by the advice of Martin, made +inquiry for a fresh guide <a name="page62"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 62</span>and horse; we were informed, however, +that all the horses of the place were absent, and that if we +waited for their return, we must tarry for two days. +“I had a presentiment,” said Martin, “when we +entered Luarca, that we were not doomed to part at present. +You must now hire my mare and me as far as Gijon, <a +name="citation62a"></a><a href="#footnote62a" +class="citation">[62a]</a> from whence there is a conveyance to +Oviedo. To tell you the truth, I am by no means sorry that +the guides are absent, for I am pleased with your company, as I +make no doubt you are with mine. I will now go and write a +letter to my wife at Rivadeo, informing her that she must not +expect to see me back for several days.” He then went +out of the room, singing the following stanza:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“A handless man a letter did write,<br /> +A dumb dictated it word for word:<br /> +The person who read it had lost his sight,<br /> +And deaf was he who listened and heard.” <a +name="citation62b"></a><a href="#footnote62b" +class="citation">[62b]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>Early the next morning we emerged from the hollow of Luarca; +about an hour’s riding brought us to Caneiro, a deep and +romantic valley of rocks, shaded by tall chestnut trees. +Through the midst of this valley rushes a rapid stream, which we +crossed in a boat. “There is not such a stream for +trout in all the Asturias,” said the ferryman. +“Look down into the waters and observe the large stones +over which it flows; now in the proper season, and in fine +weather, you cannot see those stones for the multitudes of fish +which cover them.”</p> +<p>Leaving the valley behind us, we entered into a wild and +dreary country, stony and mountainous. The day was dull and +gloomy, and all around looked sad <a name="page63"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 63</span>and melancholy. “Are we +in the way for Gijon and Oviedo?” demanded Martin of an +ancient female, who stood at the door of a cottage.</p> +<p>“For Gijon and Oviedo!” replied the crone; +“many is the weary step you will have to make before you +reach Gijon and Oviedo. You must first of all crack the +<i>bellotas</i>: you are just below them.”</p> +<p>“What does she mean by cracking the +<i>bellotas</i>?” demanded I of Martin of Rivadeo.</p> +<p>“Did your worship never hear of the seven +<i>bellotas</i>?” replied our guide. “I can +scarcely tell you what they are, as I have never seen them; I +believe they are seven hills which we have to cross, and are +called <i>bellotas</i> from some resemblance to acorns which it +is fancied they bear. I have often heard of these acorns, +and am not sorry that I have now an opportunity of seeing them, +though it is said that they are rather hard things for horses to +digest.”</p> +<p>The Asturian mountains in this part rise to a considerable +altitude. They consist for the most part of dark granite, +covered here and there with a thin layer of earth. They +approach very near to the sea, to which they slope down in broken +ridges, between which are deep and precipitous defiles, each with +its rivulet, the tribute of the hills to the salt flood. +The road traverses these defiles. There are seven of them, +which are called, in the language of the country, <i>Las siete +bellotas</i>. Of all these the most terrible is the +midmost, down which rolls an impetuous torrent. At the +upper end of it rises a precipitous wall of rock, black as soot, +to the height of several hundred yards; its top, as we passed, +was enveloped with a veil of <i>bretima</i>. From this +gorge branch off, on either side, small dingles or glens, some of +them so overgrown with <a name="page64"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 64</span>trees and copsewood, that the eye is +unable to penetrate the obscurity beyond a few yards.</p> +<p>“Fine places would some of these dingles prove for +hermitages,” said I to Martin of Rivadeo. “Holy +men might lead a happy life there on roots and water, and pass +many years absorbed in heavenly contemplation without ever being +disturbed by the noise and turmoil of the world.”</p> +<p>“True, your worship,” replied Martin; “and +perhaps on that very account there are no hermitages in the +<i>barrancos</i> of the seven <i>bellotas</i>. Our hermits +had little inclination for roots and water, and had no kind of +objection to be occasionally disturbed in their +meditations. <i>Vaya</i>! I never yet saw a hermitage +that was not hard by some rich town or village, or was not a +regular resort for all the idle people in the +neighbourhood. Hermits are not fond of living in dingles, +amongst wolves and foxes; for how in that case could they dispose +of their poultry? A hermit of my acquaintance left, when he +died, a fortune of seven hundred dollars to his niece, the +greatest part of which he scraped up by fattening +turkeys.”</p> +<p>At the top of this <i>bellota</i> we found a wretched +<i>venta</i>, where we refreshed ourselves, and then continued +our journey. Late in the afternoon we cleared the last of +these difficult passes. The wind began now to rise, bearing +on its wings a drizzling rain. We passed by Soto Luino, and +shaping our course through a wild but picturesque country, we +found ourselves about nightfall at the foot of a steep hill, up +which led a narrow bridle-way, amidst a grove of lofty +trees. Long before we had reached the top it had become +quite dark, and the rain had increased considerably. We +stumbled along in the obscurity, leading our horses, <a +name="page65"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 65</span>which were +occasionally down on their knees, owing to the slipperiness of +the path. At last we accomplished the ascent in safety, and +pushing briskly forward, we found ourselves in about half an hour +at the entrance of Muros, a large village situated just on the +declivity of the farther side of the hill.</p> +<p>A blazing fire in the <i>posada</i> soon dried our wet +garments, and in some degree recompensed us for the fatigues +which we had undergone in scrambling up the +<i>bellotas</i>. A rather singular place was this same +<i>posada</i> of Muros. It was a large rambling house, with +a spacious kitchen, or common room, on the ground floor. +Above stairs was a large dining apartment, with an immense oak +table, and furnished with cumbrous leathern chairs with high +backs, apparently three centuries old at least. +Communicating with this apartment was a wooden gallery, open to +the air, which led to a small chamber, in which I was destined to +sleep, and which contained an old-fashioned tester-bed with +curtains. It was just one of those inns which romance +writers are so fond of introducing in their descriptions, +especially when the scene of adventure lies in Spain. The +host was a talkative Asturian.</p> +<p>The wind still howled, and the rain descended in +torrents. I sat before the fire in a very drowsy state, +from which I was presently aroused by the conversation of the +host. “<i>Señor</i>,” said he, “it +is now three years since I beheld foreigners in my house. I +remember it was about this time of the year, and just such a +night as this, that two men on horseback arrived here. What +was singular, they came without any guide. Two more +strange-looking individuals I never yet beheld with +eye-sight. I shall never forget them. The one was as +tall as a giant, with much tawny <a name="page66"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 66</span>moustache, like the coat of a badger, +growing about his mouth. He had a huge ruddy face, and +looked dull and stupid, as he no doubt was, for when I spoke to +him he did not seem to understand, and answered in a jabber, +<i>valgame Dios</i>! <a name="citation66"></a><a +href="#footnote66" class="citation">[66]</a> so wild and strange, +that I remained staring at him with mouth and eyes open. +The other was neither tall nor red-faced, nor had he hair about +his mouth, and indeed he had very little upon his head. He +was very diminutive, and looked like a <i>jorobado</i>; but, +<i>valgame Dios</i>! such eyes, like wild cats’, so sharp +and full of malice. He spoke as good Spanish as I myself +do, and yet he was no Spaniard. Spaniard never looked like +that man. He was dressed in a <i>zamarra</i>, with much +silver and embroidery, and wore an Andalusian hat, and I soon +found that he was master, and that the other was servant.</p> +<p>“<i>Valgame Dios</i>! what an evil disposition had that +same foreign <i>jorobado</i>! and yet he had much grace, much +humour, and said occasionally to me such comical things, that I +was fit to die of laughter. So he sat down to supper in the +room above, and I may as well tell you here, that he slept in the +same chamber where your worship will sleep to-night, and his +servant waited behind his chair. Well, I had curiosity, so +I sat myself down at the table too, without asking leave. +Why should I? I was in my own house, and an Asturian is fit +company for a king, and is often of better blood. Oh, what +a strange supper was that. If the servant made the +slightest mistake in helping him, up would start the +<i>jorobado</i>, jump upon his chair, and seizing the big giant +by the hair, would cuff him on both sides of his face till I was +afraid his teeth would have <a name="page67"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 67</span>fallen out. The giant, however, +did not seem to care about it much. He was used to it, I +suppose. <i>Valgame Dios</i>! if he had been a Spaniard he +would not have submitted to it so patiently. But what +surprised me most was, that after beating his servant the master +would sit down, and the next moment would begin conversing and +laughing with him as if nothing had happened, and the giant also +would laugh and converse with his master, for all the world as if +he had not been beaten.</p> +<p>“You may well suppose, <i>Señor</i>, that I +understood nothing of their discourse, for it was all in that +strange unchristian tongue in which the giant answered me when I +spoke to him; the sound of it is still ringing in my ears. +It was nothing like other languages. Not like Bascuen, <a +name="citation67"></a><a href="#footnote67" +class="citation">[67]</a> not like the language in which your +worship speaks to my namesake <i>Signor</i> Antonio here. +<i>Valgame Dios</i>! I can compare it to nothing but the +sound a person makes when he rinses his mouth with water. +There is one word which I think I still remember, for it was +continually proceeding from the giant’s lips, but his +master never used it.</p> +<p>“But the strangest part of the story is yet to be +told. The supper was ended, and the night was rather +advanced; the rain still beat against the windows, even as it +does at this moment. Suddenly the <i>jorobado</i> pulled +out his watch. <i>Valgame Dios</i>! such a watch! I +will tell you one thing, <i>Señor</i>, that I could +purchase all the Asturias, and Muros besides, with the brilliants +which shone about the sides of that same watch; the room wanted +no lamp, I trow, so great was the splendour which they +cast. So the <i>jorobado</i> looked at his watch, and then +said to me, ‘I shall go to rest.’ He <a +name="page68"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 68</span>then took the +lamp, and went through the gallery to his room, followed by his +big servant. Well, <i>Señor</i>, I cleared away the +things, and then waited below for the servant, for whom I had +prepared a comfortable bed, close by my own. +<i>Señor</i>, I waited patiently for an hour, till at last +my patience was exhausted, and I ascended to the supper +apartment, and passed through the gallery till I came to the door +of the strange guest. <i>Señor</i>, what do you +think I saw at the door?”</p> +<p>“How should I know?” I replied. “His +riding-boots, perhaps.”</p> +<p>“No, <i>Señor</i>, I did not see his +riding-boots; but, stretched on the floor with his head against +the door, so that it was impossible to open it without disturbing +him, lay the big servant fast asleep, his immense legs reaching +nearly the whole length of the gallery. I crossed myself, +as well I might, for the wind was howling even as it is now, and +the rain was rushing down into the gallery in torrents; yet there +lay the big servant fast asleep, without any covering, without +any pillow, not even a log, stretched out before his +master’s door.</p> +<p>“<i>Señor</i>, I got little rest that night, for +I said to myself, I have evil wizards in my house, folks who are +not human. Once or twice I went up and peeped into the +gallery, but there still lay the big servant fast asleep; so I +crossed myself, and returned to my bed again.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “and what occurred next +day?”</p> +<p>“Nothing particular occurred next day: the +<i>jorobado</i> came down and said comical things to me in good +Spanish; and the big servant came down, but whatever he said, and +he did not say much, I understood not, for it was in that +disastrous jabber. They stayed <a name="page69"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 69</span>with me throughout the day till after +supper-time, and then the <i>jorobado</i> gave me a gold ounce, +and mounting their horses, they both departed as strangely as +they had come, in the dark night, I know not whither.”</p> +<p>“Is that all?” I demanded.</p> +<p>“No, <i>Señor</i>, it is not all; for I was right +in supposing them evil <i>brujos</i>: the very next day an +express arrived, and a great search was made after them, and I +was arrested for having harboured them. This occurred just +after the present wars had commenced. It was said they were +spies and emissaries of I don’t know what nation, and that +they had been in all parts of the Asturias, holding conferences +with some of the disaffected. They escaped, however, and +were never heard of more, though the animals which they rode were +found without their riders, wandering amongst the hills; they +were common ponies, and were of no value. As for the +<i>brujos</i>, it is believed that they embarked in some small +vessel which was lying concealed in one of the <i>rias</i> of the +coast.”</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—What was the word which you continually +heard proceeding from the lips of the big servant, and which you +think you can remember?</p> +<p><i>Host</i>.—<i>Señor</i>, it is now three years +since I heard it, and at times I can remember it, and at others +not; sometimes I have started up in my sleep repeating it. +Stay, <i>Señor</i>, I have it now at the point of my +tongue: it was <i>Patusca</i>.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—<i>Batuschca</i>, you mean; the men were +Russians.</p> +<h2><a name="page70"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +70</span>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Oviedo—The Ten Gentlemen—The Swiss +again—Modest Request—The Robbers—Episcopal +Benevolence—The Cathedral—Portrait of Feijoo.</p> +<p>I must now take a considerable stride in my journey, no less +than from Muros to Oviedo, contenting myself with observing, that +we proceeded from Muros to Velez, <a name="citation70"></a><a +href="#footnote70" class="citation">[70]</a> and from thence to +Gijon, where our guide Martin bade us farewell, and returned with +his mare to Rivadeo. The honest fellow did not part without +many expressions of regret; indeed he even expressed a desire +that I should take him and his mare into my service. +“For,” said he, “I have a great desire to run +through all Spain, and even the world: and I am sure I shall +never have a better opportunity than by attaching myself to your +worship’s skirts.” On my reminding him, +however, of his wife and family, for he had both, he said, +“True, true, I had forgotten them: happy the guide whose +only wife and family are a mare and foal.”</p> +<p>Oviedo is about three leagues from Gijon. Antonio rode +the horse, whilst I proceeded thither in a kind of diligence +which runs daily between the two towns. The road is good, +but mountainous. I arrived safely at the capital of the +Asturias, although at a rather <a name="page71"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 71</span>unpropitious season, for the din of +war was at the gate, and there was the cry of the captains and +the shouting. <a name="citation71"></a><a href="#footnote71" +class="citation">[71]</a> Castile, at the time of which I +am writing, was in the hands of the Carlists, who had captured +and plundered Valladolid in much the same manner as they had +Segovia some time before. They were every day expected to +march on Oviedo, in which case they might perhaps have +experienced some resistance, a considerable body of troops being +stationed there, who had erected some redoubts, and strongly +fortified several of the convents, especially that of Santa Clara +de la Vega. All minds were in a state of feverish anxiety +and suspense, more especially as no intelligence arrived from +Madrid, which by the last accounts was said to be occupied by the +bands of Cabrera and Palillos.</p> +<p>So it came to pass that one night I found myself in the +ancient town of Oviedo, in a very large, scantily furnished, and +remote room in an ancient <i>posada</i>, formerly a palace of the +counts of Santa Cruz. It was past ten, and the rain was +descending in torrents. I was writing, but suddenly ceased +on hearing numerous footsteps ascending the creaking stairs which +led to my apartment. The door was flung open, and in walked +nine men of tall stature, marshalled by a little hunchbacked +personage. They were all muffled in the long cloaks of +Spain, but I instantly knew by their demeanour that they were +<i>caballeros</i>, or gentlemen. They placed themselves in +a rank before the table where I was sitting. Suddenly and +simultaneously they all flung back their cloaks, and I perceived +that every one bore a book in his hand; a book which I knew full +well. After a pause, which I was <a name="page72"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 72</span>unable to break, for I sat lost in +astonishment, and almost conceived myself to be visited by +apparitions, the hunchback, advancing somewhat before the rest, +said in soft silvery tones, “<i>Señor</i> Cavalier, +was it you who brought this book to the Asturias?” I +now supposed that they were the civil authorities of the place +come to take me into custody, and, rising from my seat, I +exclaimed, “It certainly was I, and it is my glory to have +done so. The book is the New Testament of God: I wish it +was in my power to bring a million.” “I +heartily wish so too,” said the little personage with a +sigh. “Be under no apprehension, Sir Cavalier; these +gentlemen are my friends. We have just purchased these +books in the shop where you placed them for sale, and have taken +the liberty of calling upon you, in order to return you our +thanks for the treasure you have brought us. I hope you can +furnish us with the Old Testament also.” I replied, +that I was sorry to inform him that at present it was entirely +out of my power to comply with his wish, as I had no Old +Testaments in my possession, but did not despair of procuring +some speedily from England. He then asked me a great many +questions concerning my biblical travels in Spain, and my +success, and the views entertained by the Society with respect to +Spain, adding, that he hoped we should pay particular attention +to the Asturias, which he assured me was the best ground in the +Peninsula for our labour. After about half an hour’s +conversation, he suddenly said, in the English language, +“Good night, sir,” wrapped his cloak around him, and +walked out as he had come. His companions, who had hitherto +not uttered a word, all repeated, “Good night, sir,” +and, adjusting their cloaks, followed him.</p> +<p><a name="page73"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 73</span>In +order to explain this strange scene, I must state, that in the +morning I had visited the petty bookseller of the place, +Longoria, and having arranged preliminaries with him, I sent him +in the evening a package of forty Testaments, all I possessed, +with some advertisements. At the time he assured me that, +though he was willing to undertake the sale, there was, +nevertheless, not a prospect of success, as a whole month had +elapsed since he had sold a book of any description, on account +of the uncertainty of the times, and the poverty which pervaded +the land; I therefore felt much dispirited. This incident, +however, admonished me not to be cast down when things look +gloomiest, as the hand of the Lord is generally then most busy: +that men may learn to perceive, that whatever good is +accomplished is not their work, but His.</p> +<p>Two or three days after this adventure, I was once more seated +in my large scantily-furnished room; it was about ten, of a dark +melancholy morning, and the autumnal rain was again +falling. I had just breakfasted, and was about to sit down +to my journal, when the door was flung open and in bounded +Antonio.</p> +<p>“<i>Mon maître</i>,” said he, quite +breathless, “who do you think has arrived?”</p> +<p>“The Pretender, I suppose,” said I, in some +trepidation; “if so, we are prisoners.”</p> +<p>“Bah, bah!” said Antonio, “it is not the +Pretender, but one worth twenty of him; it is the Swiss of Saint +James.”</p> +<p>“Benedict Mol, the Swiss!” said I. +“What! has he found the treasure? But how did he +come? How is he dressed?”</p> +<p>“<i>Mon maître</i>,” said Antonio, “he +came on foot, if we may judge by his shoes, through which his +toes <a name="page74"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 74</span>are +sticking; and as for his dress, he is in most villanous +apparel.”</p> +<p>“There must be some mystery in this,” said +I. “Where is he at present?”</p> +<p>“Below, <i>mon maître</i>,” replied Antonio; +“he came in quest of us. But I no sooner saw him, +than I hurried away to let you know.”</p> +<p>In a few minutes Benedict Mol found his way upstairs. He +was, as Antonio had remarked, in most villanous apparel, and +nearly barefooted; his old Andalusian hat was dripping with +rain.</p> +<p>“<i>Och</i>, <i>lieber Herr</i>,” said Benedict, +“how rejoiced I am to see you again! Oh, the sight of +your countenance almost repays me for all the miseries I have +undergone since I parted with you at Saint James.”</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—I can scarcely believe that I really see +you here at Oviedo. What motive can have induced you to +come to such an out-of-the-way place from such an immense +distance?</p> +<p><i>Benedict</i>.—<i>Lieber Herr</i>, I will sit down and +tell you all that has befallen me. Some few days after I +saw you last, the <i>canonigo</i> persuaded me to go to the +captain-general to apply for permission to disinter the +<i>Schatz</i>, and also to crave assistance. So I saw the +captain-general, who at first received me very kindly, asked me +several questions, and told me to come again. So I +continued visiting him till he would see me no longer, and, do +what I might, I could not obtain a glance of him. The canon +now became impatient, more especially as he had given me a few +<i>pesetas</i> out of the charities of the church. He +frequently called me a <i>bribon</i> and impostor. At last, +one morning I went to him, and said that I proposed to return to +<a name="page75"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 75</span>Madrid, in +order to lay the matter before the government, and requested that +he would give me a certificate to the effect that I had performed +a pilgrimage to Saint James, which I imagined would be of +assistance to me upon the way, as it would enable me to beg with +some colour of authority. He no sooner heard this request, +than, without saying a word or allowing me a moment to put myself +on my defence, he sprang upon me like a tiger, clasping my throat +so hard that I thought he would have strangled me. I am a +Swiss, however, and a man of Lucerne, and when I had recovered +myself a little, I had no difficulty in flinging him off; I then +threatened him with my staff and went away. He followed me +to the gate with the most horrid curses, saying, that if I +presumed to return again, he would have me thrown at once into +prison as a thief and a heretic. So I went in quest of +yourself, <i>lieber Herr</i>, but they told me that you were +departed for Corunna; I then set out for Corunna after you.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—And what befell you on the road?</p> +<p><i>Benedict</i>.—I will tell you: about half-way between +Saint James and Corunna, as I was walking along, thinking of the +<i>Schatz</i>, I heard a loud galloping, and looking around me I +saw two men on horseback coming across the field with the +swiftness of the wind, and making directly for me. +“<i>Lieber Gott</i>,” said I, “these are +thieves, these are factious;” and so they were. They +came up to me in a moment and bade me stand; so I flung down my +staff, took off my hat, and saluted them. “Good day, +<i>caballeros</i>,” said I to them. “Good day, +countryman,” said they to me, and then we stood staring at +each other for more than a minute. <i>Lieber Himmel</i>, <a +name="citation75"></a><a href="#footnote75" +class="citation">[75]</a> I never saw such robbers; so finely +dressed, <a name="page76"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +76</span>so well armed, and mounted so bravely on two fiery +little <i>hakkas</i>, <a name="citation76"></a><a +href="#footnote76" class="citation">[76]</a> that looked as if +they could have taken wing and flown up into the clouds! So +we continued staring at each other, till at last one asked me who +I was, whence I came, and where I was going. +“Gentlemen,” said I, “I am a Swiss; I have been +to Saint James to perform a religious vow, and am now returning +to my own country.” I said not a word about the +treasure, for I was afraid that they would have shot me at once, +conceiving that I carried part of it about me. “Have +you any money?” they demanded. +“Gentlemen,” I replied, “you see how I travel +on foot, with my shoes torn to pieces; I should not do so if I +had money. I will not deceive you, however; I have a +<i>peseta</i> and a few <i>cuartos</i>;” and thereupon I +took out what I had and offered it to them. +“Fellow,” said they, “we are <i>caballeros</i> +of Galicia, and do not take <i>pesetas</i>, much less +<i>cuartos</i>. Of what opinion are you? Are you for +the queen?” “No, gentlemen,” said I, +“I am not for the queen; but, at the same time, allow me to +tell you that I am not for the king either. I know nothing +about the matter; I am a Swiss, and fight neither for nor against +anybody unless I am paid.” This made them laugh, and +then they questioned me about Saint James, and the troops there, +and the captain-general; and not to disoblige them, I told them +all I knew, and much more. Then one of them, who looked the +fiercest and most determined, took his trombone in his hand, and +pointing it at me, said, “Had you been a Spaniard, we +should have blown your head to shivers, for we should have +thought you a spy; but we see you are a foreigner, and believe +what you have said. Take, therefore, this <i>peseta</i> and +<a name="page77"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 77</span>go your +way; but beware that you tell nobody anything about us, for if +you do, <i>carracho</i>!” He then discharged his +trombone just over my head, so that for a moment I thought myself +shot; and then with an awful shout, they both galloped away, +their horses leaping over the <i>barrancos</i>, as if possessed +with many devils.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—And what happened to you on your arrival +at Corunna?</p> +<p><i>Benedict</i>.—When I arrived at Corunna, I inquired +after yourself, <i>lieber Herr</i>, and they informed me that, +only the day before my arrival, you had departed for Oviedo: and +when I heard that, my heart died within me, for I was now at the +far end of Galicia, without a friend to help me. For a day +or two I knew not what to do; at last I determined to make for +the frontier of France, passing through Oviedo in the way, where +I hoped to see you, and ask counsel of you. So I begged and +bettled among the Germans of Corunna. I, however, got very +little from them, only a few <i>cuarts</i>, less than the thieves +had given me on the road from Saint James, and with these I +departed for the Asturias by the way of Mondonedo. +<i>Och</i>, what a town is that, full of canons, priests, and +<i>pfaffen</i>, all of them more Carlist than Carlos himself.</p> +<p>One day I went to the bishop’s palace and spoke to him, +telling him I was a pilgrim from Saint James, and requesting +assistance. He told me, however, that he could not relieve +me, and as for my being a pilgrim from Saint James, he was glad +of it, and hoped that it would be of service to my soul. So +I left Mondonedo, and got amongst the wild mountains, begging and +bettling at the door of every <i>choza</i> that I passed; telling +all I saw that I was a pilgrim from Saint James, and showing my +passport in proof that I had been <a name="page78"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 78</span>there. <i>Lieber Herr</i>, no +person gave me a <i>cuart</i>, nor even a piece of <i>broa</i>, +and both Gallegans and Asturians laughed at Saint James, and told +me that his name was no longer a passport in Spain. I +should have starved if I had not sometimes plucked an ear or two +out of the maize fields; I likewise gathered grapes from the +<i>parras</i> and berries from the brambles, and in this manner I +subsisted till I arrived at the <i>bellotas</i>, where I +slaughtered a stray kid which I met, and devoured part of the +flesh raw, so great was my hunger. It made me, however, +very ill; and for two days I lay in a <i>barranco</i> half dead +and unable to help myself; it was a mercy that I was not devoured +by the wolves. I then struck across the country for Oviedo: +how I reached it I do not know; I was like one walking in a +dream. Last night I slept in an empty hog-sty about two +leagues from here, and ere I left it, I fell down on my knees and +prayed to God that I might find you, <i>lieber Herr</i>, for you +were my last hope.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—And what do you propose to do at +present?</p> +<p><i>Benedict</i>.—What can I say, <i>lieber +Herr</i>? I know not what to do. I will be guided in +everything by your counsel.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—I shall remain at Oviedo a few days +longer, during which time you can lodge at this <i>posada</i>, +and endeavour to recover from the fatigue of your disastrous +journeys; perhaps before I depart, we may hit on some plan to +extricate you from your present difficulties.</p> +<p>Oviedo contains about fifteen thousand inhabitants. It +is picturesquely situated between two mountains, Morcin and +Naranco; the former is very high and rugged, and during the +greater part of the year is <a name="page79"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 79</span>covered with snow; the sides of the +latter are cultivated and planted with vines. The principal +ornament of the town is the cathedral, <a +name="citation79a"></a><a href="#footnote79a" +class="citation">[79a]</a> the tower of which is exceedingly +lofty, and is perhaps one of the purest specimens of Gothic +architecture at present in existence. The interior of the +cathedral is neat and appropriate, but simple and +unadorned. I observed but one picture, the Conversion of +Saint Paul. One of the chapels is a cemetery, in which rest +the bones of eleven Gothic kings; to whose souls be peace.</p> +<p>I bore a letter of recommendation from Corunna to a merchant +of Oviedo. This person received me very courteously, and +generally devoted some portion of every day to showing me the +remarkable things of Oviedo.</p> +<p>One morning he thus addressed me: “You have doubtless +heard of Feijoo, <a name="citation79b"></a><a href="#footnote79b" +class="citation">[79b]</a> the celebrated philosophic <a +name="page80"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 80</span>monk of the +order of Saint Benedict, whose writings have so much tended to +remove the popular fallacies and superstitions so long cherished +in Spain; he is buried in one of our convents, where he passed a +considerable portion of his life. Come with me and I will +show you his portrait. Carlos Tercero, <a +name="citation80"></a><a href="#footnote80" +class="citation">[80]</a> our great king, sent his own painter +from Madrid to execute it. It is now in the possession of a +friend of mine, Don Ramon Valdez, an advocate.”</p> +<p>Thereupon he led me to the house of Don Ramon Valdez, who very +politely exhibited the portrait of Feijoo. It was circular +in shape, about a foot in diameter, and was surrounded by a +little brass frame, something like the rim of a barber’s +basin. The countenance was large and massive, but fine, the +eyebrows knit, the eyes sharp and penetrating, nose +aquiline. On the head was a silken skull-cap; the collar of +the coat or vest was just perceptible. The painting was +decidedly good, and struck me as being one of the very best +specimens of modern Spanish art which I had hitherto seen.</p> +<p>A day or two after this I said to Benedict Mol, +“To-morrow I start from hence for Santander. It is +therefore high time that you decide upon some course, whether to +return to Madrid or to make the best of your way to France, and +from thence proceed to your own country.”</p> +<p><a name="page81"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +81</span>“<i>Lieber Herr</i>,” said Benedict, +“I will follow you to Santander by short journeys, for I am +unable to make long ones amongst these hills; and when I am +there, peradventure I may find some means of passing into +France. It is a great comfort, in my horrible journeys, to +think that I am travelling over the ground which yourself have +trodden, and to hope that I am proceeding to rejoin you once +more. This hope kept me alive in the <i>bellotas</i>, and +without it I should never have reached Oviedo. I will quit +Spain as soon as possible, and betake me to Lucerne, though it is +a hard thing to leave the <i>Schatz</i> behind me in the land of +the Gallegans.”</p> +<p>Thereupon I presented him with a few dollars.</p> +<p>“A strange man is this Benedict,” said Antonio to +me next morning, as, accompanied by a guide, we sallied forth +from Oviedo; “a strange man, <i>mon maître</i>, is +this same Benedict. A strange life has he led, and a +strange death he will die,—it is written on his +countenance. That he will leave Spain I do not believe, or +if he leave it, it will be only to return, for he is bewitched +about this treasure. Last night he sent for a +<i>sorcière</i> whom he consulted in my presence: and she +told him that he was doomed to possess it, but that first of all +he must cross water. She cautioned him likewise against an +enemy, which he supposes must be the canon of Saint James. +I have often heard people speak of the avidity of the Swiss for +money, and here is a proof of it. I would not undergo what +Benedict has suffered in these last journeys of his to possess +all the treasures in Spain.”</p> +<h2><a name="page82"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +82</span>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Departure from Oviedo—Villa +Viciosa—The Young Man of the Inn—Antonio’s +Tale—The General and his Family—Woful +Tidings—To-morrow we die—San +Vicente—Santander—An Harangue—Flinter the +Irishman.</p> +<p>So we left Oviedo and directed our course towards +Santander. The man who accompanied us as guide, and from +whom I hired the pony on which I rode, had been recommended to me +by my friend the merchant of Oviedo. He proved, however, a +lazy, indolent fellow; he was generally loitering two or three +hundred yards in our rear, and instead of enlivening the way with +song and tale, like our late guide, Martin of Rivadeo, he +scarcely ever opened his lips, save to tell us not to go so fast, +or that I should burst his pony if I spurred him so. He was +thievish withal, and though he had engaged to make the journey +<i>seco</i>, <a name="citation82"></a><a href="#footnote82" +class="citation">[82]</a> that is, to defray the charges of +himself and beast, he contrived throughout to keep both at our +expense. When journeying in Spain, it is invariably the +cheapest plan to agree to maintain the guide and his horse or +mule, for by so doing the hire is diminished at least one-third, +and the bills upon the road are seldom increased; whereas, in the +other case, he pockets the <a name="page83"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 83</span>difference, and yet goes shot free, +and at the expense of the traveller, through the connivance of +the innkeepers, who have a kind of fellow-feeling with the +guides.</p> +<p>Late in the afternoon we reached Villa Viciosa, a small dirty +town, at the distance of eight leagues from Oviedo: it stands +beside a creek which communicates with the Bay of Biscay. +It is sometimes called La Capital de las Avellanas, or the +Capital of the Filberts, from the immense quantity of this fruit +which is grown in the neighbourhood; and the greatest part of +which is exported to England. As we drew nigh we overtook +numerous carts laden with <i>avellanas</i> proceeding in the +direction of the town. I was informed that several small +English vessels were lying in the harbour. Singular as it +may seem, however, notwithstanding we were in the Capital of the +Avellanas, it was with the utmost difficulty that I procured a +scanty handful for my dessert, and of these more than one-half +were decayed. The people of the house informed me that the +nuts were intended for exportation, and that they never dreamt +either of partaking of them themselves or of offering them to +their guests.</p> +<p>At an early hour on the following day we reached Colunga, a +beautiful village on a rising ground, thickly planted with +chestnut trees. It is celebrated, at least in the Asturias, +as being the birthplace of Arguëlles, the father of the +Spanish constitution.</p> +<p>As we dismounted at the door of the <i>posada</i>, where we +intended to refresh ourselves, a person who was leaning out of an +upper window uttered an exclamation and disappeared. We +were yet at the door, when the same individual came running forth +and cast himself on the neck of Antonio. He was a +good-looking <a name="page84"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +84</span>young man, apparently about five-and-twenty, genteelly +dressed, with a <i>montero</i> cap on his head. Antonio +looked at him for a moment, and then with an “<i>Ah</i>, +<i>Monsieur</i>, <i>est ce bien vous</i>?” shook him +affectionately by the hand. The stranger then motioned him +to follow him, and they forthwith proceeded to the room +above.</p> +<p>Wondering what this could mean, I sat down to my morning +repast. Nearly an hour elapsed, and still Antonio did not +make his appearance. Through the boards, however, which +composed the ceiling of the kitchen where I sat, I could hear the +voices of himself and his acquaintance, and thought that I could +occasionally distinguish the sound of broken sobs and +groans. At last there was a long pause. I became +impatient, and was about to summon Antonio, when he made his +appearance, but unaccompanied by the stranger. “What, +in the name of all that is singular,” I demanded, +“have you been about? Who is that man?” +“<i>Mon maître</i>,” said Antonio, +“<i>c’est un monsieur de ma connaissance</i>. +With your permission I will now take a mouthful, and as we +journey along I will tell you all that I know of him.”</p> +<p>“<i>Monsieur</i>,” said Antonio, as we rode out of +Colunga, “you are anxious to know the history of the +gentleman whom you saw embrace me at the inn. Know, <i>mon +maître</i>, that these Carlist and <i>Cristino</i> wars +have been the cause of much misery and misfortune in this +country; but a being so thoroughly unfortunate as that poor young +gentleman of the inn, I do not believe is to be found in Spain, +and his misfortunes proceed entirely from the spirit of party and +faction which for some time past has been so prevalent.</p> +<p>“<i>Mon maître</i>, as I have often told you, I +have lived <a name="page85"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +85</span>in many houses and served many masters, and it chanced +that about ten years ago I served the father of this gentleman, +who was then a mere boy. It was a very high family, for +<i>monsieur</i> the father was a general in the army, and a man +of large possessions. The family consisted of the general, +his lady, and two sons; the youngest of whom is the person you +have just seen, the other was several years older. +<i>Pardieu</i>! I felt myself very comfortable in that +house, and every individual of the family had all kind of +complaisance for me. It is singular enough, that though I +have been turned out of so many families, I was never turned out +of that; and though I left it thrice, it was of my own free +will. I became dissatisfied with the other servants, or +with the dog or the cat. The last time I left was on +account of the quail which was hung out of the window of +<i>madame</i>, and which waked me in the morning with its +call. <i>Eh bien</i>, <i>mon maître</i>, things went +on in this way during the three years that I continued in the +family, out and in; at the end of which time it was determined +that the young gentleman should travel, and it was proposed that +I should attend him as valet. This I wished very much to +do. However, <i>par malheur</i>, I was at this time very +much dissatisfied with <i>madame</i> his mother about the quail, +and insisted that before I accompanied him the bird should be +slaughtered for the kitchen. To this <i>madame</i> would by +no means consent; and even the young gentleman, who had always +taken my part on other occasions, said that I was unreasonable: +so I left the house in a huff, and never entered it again.</p> +<p>“<i>Eh bien</i>, <i>mon maître</i>, the young +gentleman went upon his travels, and continued abroad several +years; and from the time of his departure until we met him <a +name="page86"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 86</span>at Colunga, I +have not set eyes upon, nor indeed heard of him. I have +heard enough, however, of his family; of <i>monsieur</i> the +father, of <i>madame</i>, and of the brother, who was an officer +of cavalry. A short time before the troubles, I mean before +the death of Ferdinand, <i>monsieur</i> the father was appointed +captain-general of Corunna. Now <i>monsieur</i>, though a +good master, was rather a proud man, and fond of discipline, and +all that kind of thing, and of obedience. He was, moreover, +no friend to the populace, to the <i>canaille</i>, and he had a +particular aversion to the nationals. So, when Ferdinand +died, it was whispered about at Corunna that the general was no +liberal, and that he was a better friend to Carlos than +Christina. <i>Eh bien</i>, it chanced that there was a +grand <i>fête</i>, or festival, at Corunna, on the water, +and the nationals were there, and the soldiers. And I know +not how it befell, but there was an <i>émeute</i>, and the +nationals laid hands on <i>monsieur</i> the general, and tying a +rope round his neck, flung him overboard from the barge in which +he was, and then dragged him astern about the harbour until he +was drowned. They then went to his house, and pillaged it, +and so ill-treated <i>madame</i>, who at that time happened to be +<i>enceinte</i>, that in a few hours she expired.</p> +<p>“I tell you what, <i>mon maître</i>, when I heard +of the misfortune of <i>madame</i> and the general, you would +scarcely believe it, but I actually shed tears, and was sorry +that I had parted with them in unkindness on account of that +pernicious quail.</p> +<p>“<i>Eh bien</i>, <i>mon maître</i>, <i>nous +poursuivrons notre histoire</i>. The eldest son, as I told +you before, was a cavalry officer, and a man of resolution, and +when he heard of the death of his father and mother, he vowed <a +name="page87"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +87</span>revenge. Poor fellow! So what does he do but +desert, with two or three discontented spirits of his troop, and +going to the frontier of Galicia, he raised a small faction, and +proclaimed Don Carlos. For some little time he did +considerable damage to the liberals, burning and destroying their +possessions, and putting to death several nationals that fell +into his hands. However, this did not last long; his +faction was soon dispersed, and he himself taken and hanged, and +his head stuck on a pole.</p> +<p>“<i>Nous sommes déjà presque au +bout</i>. When we arrived at the inn, the young man took me +above, as you saw, and there for some time he could do nothing +but weep and sob. His story is soon told:—he returned +from his travels, and the first intelligence which awaited him on +his arrival in Spain was, that his father was drowned, his mother +dead, and his brother hanged, and, moreover, all the possessions +of his family confiscated. This was not all: wherever he +went, he found himself considered in the light of a factious and +discontented person, and was frequently assailed by the nationals +with blows of sabres and cudgels. He applied to his +relations, and some of these, who were of the Carlist persuasion, +advised him to betake himself to the army of Don Carlos, and the +Pretender himself, who was a friend of his father, and remembered +the services of his brother, offered to give him a command in his +army. But, <i>mon maître</i>, as I told you before, +he was a pacific young gentleman, and as mild as a lamb, and +hated the idea of shedding blood. He was, moreover, not of +the Carlist opinion, for during his studies he had read books +written a long time ago by countrymen of mine, all about +republics and liberties, and the rights of man, so that he was <a +name="page88"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 88</span>much more +inclined to the liberal than the Carlist system; he therefore +declined the offer of Don Carlos, whereupon all his relations +deserted him, whilst the liberals hunted him from one place to +another like a wild beast. At last, he sold some little +property which still remained to him, and with the proceeds he +came to this remote place of Colunga, where no one knew him, and +where he has been residing for several months, in a most +melancholy manner, with no other amusement than that which he +derives from a book or two, or occasionally hunting a leveret +with his spaniel.</p> +<p>“He asked me for counsel, but I had none to give him, +and could only weep with him. At last he said, ‘Dear +Antonio, I see there is no remedy. You say your master is +below; beg him, I pray, to stay till tomorrow, and we will send +for the maidens of the neighbourhood, and for a violin and +bagpipe, and we will dance and cast away care for a +moment.’ And then he said something in old Greek, +which I scarcely understood, but which I think was equivalent to, +‘Let us eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow we +die!’</p> +<p>“<i>Eh bien</i>, <i>mon maître</i>, I told him +that you were a serious gentleman, who never took any amusement, +and that you were in a hurry. Whereupon he wept again, and +embraced me, and bade me farewell. And now, <i>mon +maître</i>, I have told you the history of the young man of +the inn.”</p> +<p>We slept at Ribida de Sella, and the next day at noon arrived +at Llanes. Our route lay between the coast and an immense +range of mountains, which rose up like huge ramparts at about a +league’s distance from the sea. The ground over which +we passed was tolerably level, and seemingly well +cultivated. There was no lack of vines and trees, whilst at +short intervals <a name="page89"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +89</span>rose the <i>cortijos</i> of the proprietors—square +stone buildings surrounded with an outer wall. Llanes is an +old town, formerly of considerable strength. In its +neighbourhood is the convent of San Cilorio, one of the largest +monastic edifices in all Spain. It is now deserted, and +stands alone and desolate upon one of the peninsulas of the +Cantabrian shore. Leaving Llanes, we soon entered one of +the most dreary and barren regions imaginable, a region of rock +and stone, where neither grass nor trees were to be seen. +Night overtook us in these places. We wandered on, however, +until we reached a small village, termed Santo Colombo. +Here we passed the night, in the house of a carabineer of the +revenue, a tall athletic figure, who met us at the gate, armed +with a gun. He was a Castilian, and with all that +ceremonious formality and grave politeness for which his +countrymen were at one time so celebrated. He chid his wife +for conversing with her handmaid about the concerns of the house +before us. “Barbara,” said he, “this is +not conversation calculated to interest the strange cavaliers; +hold your peace, or go aside with the +<i>muchacha</i>.” In the morning he refused any +remuneration for his hospitality, “I am a +<i>caballero</i>,” said he, “even as +yourselves. It is not my custom to admit people into my +house for the sake of lucre. I received you because you +were benighted and the <i>posada</i> distant.”</p> +<p>Rising early in the morning, we pursued our way through a +country equally stony and dreary as that which we had entered +upon the preceding day. In about four hours we reached San +Vicente, a large and dilapidated town, chiefly inhabited by +miserable fishermen. It retains, however, many remarkable +relics of former magnificence: the bridge, which bestrides the <a +name="page90"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 90</span>broad and +deep firth on which stands the town, has no less than thirty-two +arches, and is built of grey granite. It is very ancient, +and in some parts in so ruinous a condition as to be +dangerous.</p> +<p>Leaving San Vicente behind us, we travelled for some leagues +on the seashore, crossing occasionally a narrow inlet or +firth. The country at last began to improve, and in the +neighbourhood of Santillana was both beautiful and fertile. +About a league before we reached the country of Gil Blas we +passed through an extensive wood, in which were rocks and +precipices; it was exactly such a place as that in which the cave +of Rolando was situated, as described in the novel. The +wood has an evil name, and our guide informed us that robberies +were occasionally committed in it. No adventure, however, +befell us, and we reached Santillana at about six in the +evening.</p> +<p>We did not enter the town, but halted at a large <i>venta</i>, +or <i>posada</i>, at the entrance, before which stood an immense +ash tree. We had scarcely housed ourselves when a +tremendous storm of rain and wind commenced, accompanied with +thunder and lightning, which continued without much interruption +for several hours, and the effects of which were visible in our +journey of the following day, the streams over which we passed +being much swollen, and several trees lying uptorn by the +wayside. Santillana contains four thousand inhabitants, and +is six short leagues’ distance from Santander, where we +arrived early the next day.</p> +<p>Nothing could exhibit a stronger contrast to the desolate +tracts and the half-ruined towns through which we had lately +passed, than the bustle and activity of Santander, which, though +it stands on the confines of the Basque provinces, the stronghold +of the Pretender, <a name="page91"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +91</span>is almost the only city in Spain which has not suffered +by the Carlist wars. Till the close of the last century it +was little better than an obscure fishing town, but it has of +late years almost entirely engrossed the commerce of the Spanish +transatlantic possessions, especially of the Havannah. The +consequence of which has been, that whilst Santander has rapidly +increased in wealth and magnificence, both Corunna and Cadiz have +been as rapidly hastening to decay. At present it possesses +a noble quay, on which stands a line of stately edifices, far +exceeding in splendour the palaces of the aristocracy of +Madrid. These are built in the French style, and are +chiefly occupied by the merchants. The population of +Santander is estimated at sixty thousand souls.</p> +<p>On the day of my arrival I dined at the +<i>table-d’hôte</i> of the principal inn, kept by a +Genoese. The company was very miscellaneous—French, +Germans, and Spaniards, all speaking in their respective +languages, whilst at the ends of the table, confronting each +other, sat two Catalan merchants, one of whom weighed nearly +twenty stone, grunting across the board in their harsh +dialect. Long, however, before dinner was concluded the +conversation was entirely engrossed and the attention of all +present directed to an individual who sat on one side of the +bulky Catalan. He was a thin man of about the middle +height, with a remarkably red face, and something in his eyes +which, if not a squint, bore a striking resemblance to it. +He was dressed in a blue military frock, and seemed to take much +more pleasure in haranguing than in the fare which was set before +him. He spoke perfectly good Spanish, yet his voice +betrayed something of a foreign accent. For a long time he +descanted with immense <a name="page92"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 92</span>volubility on war and all its +circumstances, freely criticizing the conduct of the generals, +both Carlist and <i>Cristinos</i>, in the present struggle, till +at last he exclaimed, “Had I but twenty thousand men +allowed me by the government, I would bring the war to a +conclusion in six months.”</p> +<p>“Pardon me, sir,” said a Spaniard who sat at the +table, “the curiosity which induces me to request the +favour of your distinguished name.”</p> +<p>“I am Flinter,” replied the individual in the +military frock, “a name which is in the mouth of every man, +woman, and child in Spain. I am Flinter <a +name="citation92"></a><a href="#footnote92" +class="citation">[92]</a> the Irishman, just escaped from the +Basque provinces and the claws of Don Carlos. On the +decease of Ferdinand, I declared for Isabella, esteeming it the +duty of every good cavalier and Irishman in the Spanish service +to do so. You have all heard of my exploits, and permit me +to tell you they would have been yet more glorious had not +jealousy been at work and cramped my means. Two years ago I +was despatched to Estremadura, to organize the militias. +The bands of Gomez and Cabrera entered the province, and spread +devastation around. They found me, however, at my post; and +had I been properly seconded by those under my command, the two +rebels would never have returned to their master to boast of +their success. I stood behind my intrenchments. A man +advanced and summoned us to <a name="page93"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 93</span>surrender. ‘Who are +you?’ I demanded. ‘I am Cabrera,’ he +replied; ‘and I am Flinter,’ I retorted flourishing +my sabre; ‘retire to your battalions, or you will forthwith +die the death.’ He was awed, and did as I +commanded. In an hour we surrendered. I was led a +prisoner to the Basque provinces; and the Carlists rejoiced in +the capture they had made, for the name of Flinter had long +sounded amongst the Carlist ranks. I was flung into a +loathsome dungeon, where I remained twenty months. I was +cold; I was naked; but I did not on that account despond—my +spirit was too indomitable for such weakness. My keeper at +last pitied my misfortunes. He said that ‘it grieved +him to see so valiant a man perish in inglorious +confinement.’ We laid a plan to escape together; +disguises were provided, and we made the attempt. We passed +unobserved till we arrived at the Carlist lines above Bilbao: +there we were stopped. My presence of mind, however, did +not desert me. I was disguised as a carman, as a Catalan, +and the coolness of my answers deceived my interrogators. +We were permitted to pass, and soon were safe within the walls of +Bilbao. There was an illumination that night in the town, +for the lion had burst his toils, Flinter had escaped, and was +once more returned to reanimate a drooping cause. I have +just arrived at Santander, on my way to Madrid, where I intend to +ask of the government a command, with twenty thousand +men.”</p> +<p>Poor Flinter! a braver heart and a more gasconading mouth were +surely never united in the same body. He proceeded to +Madrid, and through the influence of the British ambassador, who +was his friend, he obtained the command of a small division, with +which <a name="page94"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 94</span>he +contrived to surprise and defeat, in the neighbourhood of Toledo, +a body of the Carlists, commanded by Orejita, whose numbers more +than trebled his own. In reward for this exploit he was +persecuted by the government, which, at that time, was the +<i>moderado</i> or <i>juste milieu</i>, with the most relentless +animosity; the prime minister, Ofalia, supporting with all his +influence numerous and ridiculous accusations of plunder and +robbery brought against the too successful general by the Carlist +canons of Toledo. He was likewise charged with a +dereliction of duty, in having permitted, after the battle of +Valdepeñas, which he likewise won in the most gallant +manner, the Carlist force to take possession of the mines of +Almaden, although the government, who were bent on his ruin, had +done all in their power to prevent him from following up his +successes, by denying him the slightest supplies and +reinforcements. The fruits of victory thus wrested from +him, his hopes blighted, a morbid melancholy seized upon the +Irishman; he resigned his command, and, in less than ten months +from the period when I saw him at Santander, afforded his +dastardly and malignant enemies a triumph which satisfied even +them, by cutting his own throat with a razor.</p> +<p>Ardent spirits of foreign climes, who hope to distinguish +yourselves in the service of Spain, and to earn honours and +rewards, remember the fate of Columbus, and of another as brave +and as ardent—Flinter!</p> +<h2><a name="page95"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +95</span>CHAPTER XXXV.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Departure from Santander—The Night +Alarm—The Black Pass.</p> +<p>I had ordered two hundred Testaments to be sent to Santander +from Madrid: I found, however, to my great sorrow, that they had +not arrived, and I supposed that they had either been seized on +the way by the Carlists, or that my letter had miscarried. +I then thought of applying to England for a supply, but I +abandoned the idea for two reasons. In the first place, I +should have to remain idly loitering, at least a month, before I +could receive them, at a place where every article was +excessively dear; and, secondly, I was very unwell, and unable to +procure medical advice at Santander. Ever since I left +Corunna, I had been afflicted with a terrible dysentery, and +latterly with an ophthalmia, the result of the other +malady. I therefore determined on returning to +Madrid. To effect this, however, seemed no very easy +task. Parties of the army of Don Carlos, which, in a +partial degree, had been routed in Castile, were hovering about +the country through which I should have to pass, more especially +in that part called “The Mountains,” so that all +communication had ceased between Santander and the southern +districts. Nevertheless, I determined to trust <a +name="page96"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 96</span>as usual in +the Almighty, and to risk the danger. I purchased, +therefore, a small horse, and sallied forth with Antonio.</p> +<p>Before departing, however, I entered into conference with the +booksellers as to what they should do in the event of my finding +an opportunity of sending them a stock of Testaments from Madrid; +and, having arranged matters to my satisfaction, I committed +myself to Providence. I will not dwell long on this journey +of three hundred miles. We were in the midst of the fire, +yet, strange to say, escaped without a hair of our heads being +singed. Robberies, murders, and all kinds of atrocities +were perpetrated before, behind, and on both sides of us; but not +so much as a dog barked at us, though in one instance a plan had +been laid to intercept us. About four leagues from +Santander, whilst we were baiting our horses at a village +hostelry, I saw a fellow run off after having held a whispering +conversation with a boy who was dealing out barley to us. I +instantly inquired of the latter what the man had said to him, +but only obtained an evasive answer. It appeared afterwards +that the conversation was about ourselves. Two or three +leagues farther there was an inn and village where we had +proposed staying, and indeed had expressed our intention of doing +so; but on arriving there, finding that the sun was still far +from its bourne, I determined to proceed farther, expecting to +meet with a resting-place at the distance of a league; though I +was mistaken, as we found none until we reached Montaneda, nine +leagues and a half from Santander, where was stationed a small +detachment of soldiers. At the dead of night, we were +aroused from our sleep by a cry that the “factious” +were not far off. A messenger had arrived from the +<i>alcalde</i> <a name="page97"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +97</span>of the village where we had previously intended staying, +who stated that a party of Carlists had just surprised that +place, and were searching for an English spy, whom they supposed +to be at the inn. The officer commanding the soldiers, upon +hearing this, not deeming his own situation a safe one, instantly +drew off his men, falling back on a stronger party stationed in a +fortified village near at hand. As for ourselves, we +saddled our horses and continued our way in the dark. Had +the Carlists succeeded in apprehending me, I should instantly +have been shot, and my body cast on the rocks to feed the +vultures and wolves. But “it was not so +written,” said Antonio, who, like many of his countrymen, +was a fatalist. The next night we had another singular +escape: we had arrived near the entrance of a horrible pass +called “<i>El puerto de la puente de las tablas</i>,” +or the pass of the bridge of planks, which wound through a black +and frightful mountain, on the farther side of which was the town +of Oñas, where we meant to tarry for the night. The +sun had set about a quarter of an hour. Suddenly a man, +with his face covered with blood, rushed out of the pass. +“Turn back, sir,” he said, “in the name of God; +there are murderers in that pass; they have just robbed me of my +mule, and all I possess, and I have hardly escaped with life from +their hands!” I scarcely know why, but I made him no +answer, and proceeded; indeed I was so weary and unwell that I +cared not what became of me. We entered; the rocks rose +perpendicularly, right and left, entirely intercepting the scanty +twilight, so that the darkness of the grave, or rather the +blackness of the valley of the shadow of death, reigned around +us, and we knew not where we went, but trusted to the instinct of +the horses, who <a name="page98"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +98</span>moved on with their heads close to the ground. The +only sound which we heard was the plash of a stream, which +tumbled down the pass. I expected every moment to feel a +knife at my throat, but “<i>it was not so +written</i>.” We threaded the pass without meeting a +human being, and within three-quarters of an hour after the time +we entered it, we found ourselves within the <i>posada</i> of the +town of Oñas, which was filled with troops and armed +peasants expecting an attack from the grand Carlist army, which +was near at hand.</p> +<p>Well, we reached Burgos in safety; <a name="citation98"></a><a +href="#footnote98" class="citation">[98]</a> we reached +Valladolid in safety; we passed the Guadarrama in safety; and +were at length safely housed in Madrid. People said we had +been very lucky; Antonio said, “It was so written;” +but I say, Glory be to the Lord for His mercies vouchsafed to +us.</p> +<h2><a name="page99"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +99</span>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">State of Affairs at Madrid—The New +Ministry—Pope of Rome—The Bookseller of +Toledo—Sword-blades—Houses of Toledo—The +Forlorn Gypsy—Proceedings at Madrid—Another +Servant.</p> +<p>During my journey in the northern provinces of Spain, which +occupied a considerable portion of the year 1837, I had +accomplished but a slight portion of what I proposed to myself to +effect in the outset. Insignificant are the results of +man’s labours compared with the swelling ideas of his +presumption; something, however, had been effected by the journey +which I had just concluded. The New Testament of Christ was +now enjoying a quiet sale in the principal towns of the north, +and I had secured the friendly interest and co-operation of the +booksellers of those parts, particularly of him the most +considerable of them all, old Rey of Compostella. I had, +moreover, disposed of a considerable number of Testaments with my +own hands, to private individuals, entirely of the lower classes, +namely, muleteers, carmen, <i>contrabandistas</i>, etc., so that +upon the whole I had abundant cause for gratitude and +thanksgiving.</p> +<p>I did not find our affairs in a very prosperous state <a +name="page100"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 100</span>at Madrid, +few copies having been sold in the booksellers’ shops; yet +what could be rationally expected during these latter +times? Don Carlos, with a large army, had been at the +gates; plunder and massacre had been expected; so that people +were too much occupied in forming plans to secure their lives and +property to give much attention to reading of any +description.</p> +<p>The enemy, however, had now retired to his strongholds in +Alava and Guipuzcoa. I hoped that brighter days were +dawning, and that the work, under my own superintendence, would, +with God’s blessing, prosper in the capital of Spain. +How far the result corresponded with my expectations will be seen +in the sequel.</p> +<p>During my absence in the north, a total change of ministers +had occurred. The liberal party had been ousted from the +cabinet, and in their place had entered individuals attached to +the <i>moderado</i> or court party: unfortunately, however, for +my prospects, they consisted of persons with whom I had no +acquaintance whatever, and with whom my former friends, Galiano +and Isturitz, had little or no influence. These gentlemen +were now regularly laid on the shelf, and their political career +appeared to be terminated for ever. <a name="citation100"></a><a +href="#footnote100" class="citation">[100]</a></p> +<p>From the present ministry I could expect but little; they +consisted of men the greater part of whom had been either +courtiers or employés of the deceased King Ferdinand, who +were friends to absolutism, and by no means inclined to do or to +favour anything calculated to give offence to the court of Rome, +which they were anxious to conciliate, hoping that eventually it +might be induced to recognize the young queen, not as the <a +name="page101"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +101</span>constitutional but as the absolute Queen Isabella the +Second.</p> +<p>Such was the party which continued in power throughout the +remainder of my sojourn in Spain, and which persecuted me less +from rancour and malice than from policy. It was not until +the conclusion of the war of the succession that it lost the +ascendency, when it sank to the ground with its patroness the +queen-mother, before the dictatorship of Espartero.</p> +<p>The first step which I took after my return to Madrid, towards +circulating the Scriptures, was a very bold one. It was +neither more nor less than the establishment of a shop for the +sale of Testaments. This shop was situated in the Calle del +Principe, a respectable and well-frequented street in the +neighbourhood of the Square of Cervantes. I furnished it +handsomely with glass cases and chandeliers, and procured an +acute Gallegan of the name of Pepe Calzado, to superintend the +business, who gave me weekly a faithful account of the copies +sold.</p> +<p>“How strangely times alter,” said I, the second +day subsequent to the opening of my establishment, as I stood on +the opposite side of the street, leaning against the wall with +folded arms, surveying my shop, on the windows of which were +painted in large yellow characters, <i>Despacho de la Sociedad +Bíblica y Estrangera</i>; <a name="citation101"></a><a +href="#footnote101" class="citation">[101]</a> “how +strangely times alter! Here have I been during the last +eight months running about old Popish Spain, distributing +Testaments, as agent of what the Papists call an heretical +society, and have neither been stoned nor burnt; and here am I +now in the capital, doing that which one would think were enough +to cause all <a name="page102"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +102</span>the dead inquisitors and officials buried within the +circuit of the walls to rise from their graves and cry +abomination; and yet no one interferes with me. Pope of +Rome! Pope of Rome! look to thyself. That shop may be +closed; but oh! what a sign of the times, that it has been +permitted to exist for one day. It appears to me, my +Father, that the days of your sway are numbered in Spain; that +you will not be permitted much longer to plunder her, to scoff at +her, and to scourge her with scorpions, as in bygone +periods. See I not the hand on the wall? See I not in +yonder letters a ‘<i>Mene</i>, <i>Mene</i>, <i>Tekel</i>, +<i>Upharsin</i>’? Look to thyself, +<i>Batuschca</i>.”</p> +<p>And I remained for two hours, leaning against the wall, +staring at the shop.</p> +<p>A short time after the establishment of the <i>despacho</i> at +Madrid, I once more mounted the saddle, and, attended by Antonio, +rode over to Toledo, for the purpose of circulating the +Scriptures, sending beforehand by a muleteer a cargo of one +hundred Testaments. I instantly addressed myself to the +principal bookseller of the place, whom, from the circumstance of +his living in a town so abounding with canons, priests, and +ex-friars as Toledo, I expected to find a Carlist, or a +<i>servil</i> at least. I was never more mistaken in my +life: on entering the shop, which was very large and commodious, +I beheld a stout athletic man, dressed in a kind of cavalry +uniform, with a helmet on his head, and an immense sabre in his +hand. This was the bookseller himself, who, I soon found, +was an officer in the national cavalry. Upon learning who I +was, he shook me heartily by the hand, and said that nothing +would give him greater pleasure than taking charge of the books, +which he <a name="page103"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +103</span>would endeavour to circulate to the utmost of his +ability.</p> +<p>“Will not your doing so bring you into odium with the +clergy?”</p> +<p>“<i>Ca</i>!” <a name="citation103a"></a><a +href="#footnote103a" class="citation">[103a]</a> said he; +“who cares? I am rich, and so was my father before +me. I do not depend on them; they cannot hate me more than +they do already, for I make no secret of my opinions. I +have just returned from an expedition,” said he; “my +brother nationals and myself have, for the last three days, been +occupied in hunting down the factious and thieves of the +neighbourhood; we have killed three and brought in several +prisoners. Who cares for the cowardly priests? I am a +liberal, <i>Don Jorge</i>, and a friend of your countryman, +Flinter. Many is the Carlist guerilla-curate and +robber-friar whom I have assisted him to catch. I am +rejoiced to hear that he has just been appointed captain-general +of Toledo; there will be fine doings here when he arrives, <i>Don +Jorge</i>. We will make the clergy shake between us, I +assure you.”</p> +<p>Toledo was formerly the capital of Spain. Its population +at present is barely fifteen thousand souls, though, in the time +of the Romans, and also during the Middle Ages, it is said to +have amounted to between two and three hundred thousand. It +is situated about twelve leagues, or forty miles, westward <a +name="citation103b"></a><a href="#footnote103b" +class="citation">[103b]</a> of Madrid, and is built upon a steep +rocky hill, round which flows the Tagus, on all sides but the +north. It still possesses a great many remarkable edifices, +notwithstanding that it has long since fallen into decay. +Its cathedral is the most magnificent of Spain, and is the see of +<a name="page104"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 104</span>the +primate. In the tower of this cathedral is the famous bell +of Toledo, the largest in the world with the exception of the +monster bell of Moscow, which I have also seen. It weighs +1543 <i>arrobas</i>, or 37,032 pounds. It has, however, a +disagreeable sound, owing to a cleft in its side. Toledo +could once boast the finest pictures in Spain, but many were +stolen or destroyed by the French during the Peninsular war, and +still more have lately been removed by order of the +government. Perhaps the most remarkable one still remains; +I allude to that which represents the burial of the Count of +Orgas, the masterpiece of Domenico, <a name="citation104"></a><a +href="#footnote104" class="citation">[104]</a> the Greek, a most +extraordinary genius, some of whose productions possess merit of +a very high order. The picture in question is in the little +parish church of San Tomé, at the bottom of the aisle, on +the left side of the altar. Could it be purchased, I should +say it would be cheap at five thousand pounds.</p> +<p>Amongst the many remarkable things which meet the eye of the +curious observer at Toledo, is the manufactory of arms, where are +wrought the swords, spears, and other weapons intended for the +army, with the exception of firearms, which mostly come from +abroad.</p> +<p>In old times, as is well known, the sword-blades of Toledo +were held in great estimation, and were transmitted as +merchandise throughout Christendom. The <a +name="page105"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 105</span>present +manufactory, or <i>fabrica</i>, as it is called, is a handsome +modern edifice, situated without the wall of the city, on a plain +contiguous to the river, with which it communicates by a small +canal. It is said that the water and the sand of the Tagus +are essential for the proper tempering of the swords. I +asked some of the principal workmen whether, at the present day, +they could manufacture weapons of equal value to those of former +days, and whether the secret had been lost.</p> +<p>“<i>Ca</i>!” said they, “the swords of +Toledo were never so good as those which we are daily +making. It is ridiculous enough to see strangers coming +here to purchase old swords, the greater part of which are mere +rubbish, and never made at Toledo, yet for such they will give a +large price, whilst they would grudge two dollars for this jewel, +which was made but yesterday;” thereupon putting into my +hand a middle-sized rapier. “Your worship,” +said they, “seems to have a strong arm; prove its temper +against the stone wall—thrust boldly and fear +not.”</p> +<p>I <i>have</i> a strong arm, and dashed the point with my +utmost force against the solid granite: my arm was numbed to the +shoulder from the violence of the concussion, and continued so +for nearly a week, but the sword appeared not to be at all +blunted, or to have suffered in any respect.</p> +<p>“A better sword than that,” said an ancient +workman, a native of Old Castile, “never transfixed Moor +out yonder on the <i>sagra</i>.”</p> +<p>During my stay at Toledo, I lodged at the Posada de los +Caballeros, which signifies the inn of the gentlemen, which name, +in some respects, it certainly well deserved, for there are many +palaces far less magnificent than this inn of Toledo. By +magnificence it <a name="page106"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +106</span>must not be supposed, however, that I allude to +costliness of furniture or any kind of luxury which pervaded the +culinary department. The rooms were as empty as those of +Spanish inns generally are, and the fare, though good in its +kind, was plain and homely; but I have seldom seen a more +imposing edifice. It was of immense size, consisting of +several stories, and was built something in the Moorish taste, +with a quadrangular court in the centre, beneath which was an +immense <i>algibe</i> or tank, serving as a reservoir for +rain-water. All the houses in Toledo are supplied with +tanks of this description, into which the waters in the rainy +season flow from the roofs through pipes. No other water is +used for drinking; that of the Tagus, not being considered +salubrious, is only used for purposes of cleanliness, being +conveyed up the steep narrow streets on donkeys, in large stone +jars. The city, standing on a rocky mountain, has no +wells. As for the rain-water, it deposits a sediment in the +tank, and becomes very sweet and potable: these tanks are cleaned +out twice every year. During the summer, at which time the +heat in this part of Spain is intense, the families spend the +greater part of the day in the courts, which are overhung with a +linen awning, the heat of the atmosphere being tempered by the +coolness arising from the tank below, which answers the same +purpose as the fountain in the southern provinces of Spain.</p> +<p>I spent about a week at Toledo, during which time several +copies of the Testament were disposed of in the shop of my friend +the bookseller. Several priests took it up from the +<i>mostrador</i> on which it lay, examined it, but made no +remarks; none of them purchased it. My friend showed me +through his house, <a name="page107"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +107</span>almost every apartment of which was lined from roof to +floor with books, many of which were highly valuable. He +told me that he possessed the best collection in Spain of the +ancient literature of the country. He was, however, less +proud of his library than his stud; finding that I had some +acquaintance with horses, his liking for me and also his respect +considerably increased. “All I have,” said he, +“is at your service; I see you are a man after my own +heart. When you are disposed to ride out upon the +<i>sagra</i>, you have only to apply to my groom, who will +forthwith saddle you my famed Cordovese <i>entero</i>; I +purchased him from the stables at Aranjuez, when the royal stud +was broken up. There is but one other man to whom I would +lend him, and that man is Flinter.”</p> +<p>At Toledo I met with a forlorn gypsy woman and her son, a lad +of about fourteen years of age; she was not a native of the +place, but had come from La Mancha, her husband having been cast +into the prison of Toledo on a charge of mule-stealing: the crime +had been proved against him, and in a few days he was to depart +for Malaga, with the chain of galley-slaves. He was quite +destitute of money, and his wife was now in Toledo, earning a few +<i>cuartos</i> by telling fortunes about the streets, to support +him in prison. She told me that it was her intention to +follow him to Malaga, where she hoped to be able to effect his +escape. What an instance of conjugal affection! and yet the +affection here was all on one side, as is too frequently the +case. Her husband was a worthless scoundrel, who had +previously abandoned her and betaken himself to Madrid, where he +had long lived in concubinage with the notorious she-thug Aurora, +<a name="citation107"></a><a href="#footnote107" +class="citation">[107]</a> at <a name="page108"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 108</span>whose instigation he had committed +the robbery for which he was now held in durance. +“Should your husband escape from Malaga, in what direction +will he fly?” I demanded.</p> +<p>“To the <i>chim</i> of the <i>Corahai</i>, my son; to +the land of the Moors, to be a soldier of the Moorish +king.”</p> +<p>“And what will become of yourself?” I inquired; +“think you that he will take you with him?”</p> +<p>“He will leave me on the shore, my son; and as soon as +he has crossed the black <i>pawnee</i>, he will forget me and +never think of me more.”</p> +<p>“And knowing his ingratitude, why should you give +yourself so much trouble about him?”</p> +<p>“Am I not his <i>romí</i>, my son; and am I not +bound by the law of the <i>Calés</i> to assist him to the +last? Should he return from the land of the <i>Corahai</i> +at the end of a hundred years, and should find me alive, and +should say, ‘I am hungry, little wife; go forth and steal +or tell <i>baji</i>,’ I must do it, for he is the +<i>rom</i> and I the <i>romí</i>.”</p> +<p>On my return to Madrid, I found the <i>despacho</i> still +open. Various Testaments had been sold, though the number +was by no means considerable: the work had to labour under great +disadvantage, from the ignorance of the people at large with +respect to its tenor and contents. It was no wonder, then, +that little interest was felt respecting it. To call, +however, public attention to the <i>despacho</i>, I printed three +thousand advertisements on paper, yellow, blue, and crimson, with +which I almost covered the sides of the streets, and, besides +this, inserted an account of it in all the journals and +periodicals: the consequence was, that in a short time almost +every person in Madrid was aware <a name="page109"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 109</span>of its existence. Such +exertions in London or Paris would probably have ensured the sale +of the entire edition of the New Testament within a few +days. In Madrid, however, the result was not quite so +flattering; for after the establishment had been open an entire +month, the copies disposed of barely amounted to one hundred.</p> +<p>These proceedings of mine did not fail to cause a great +sensation: the priests and their partisans were teeming with +malice and fury, which, for some time, however, they thought +proper to exhibit only in words; it being their opinion that I +was favoured by the ambassador and by the British government; but +there was no attempt, however atrocious, that might not be +expected from their malignity; and were it right and seemly for +me, the most insignificant of worms, to make such a comparison, I +might say, like Paul at Ephesus, I was fighting with wild +beasts.</p> +<p>On the last day of the year 1837, my servant Antonio thus +addressed me: “<i>Mon maître</i>, it is necessary +that I leave you for a time. Ever since we have returned +from our journeys, I have become unsettled and dissatisfied with +the house, the furniture, and with Doña Marequita. I +have therefore engaged myself as cook in the house of the Count +of ---, where I am to receive four dollars per month less than +what your worship gives me. I am fond of change, though it +be for the worse. <i>Adieu</i>, <i>mon maître</i>; +may you be as well served as you deserve. Should you +chance, however, to have any pressing need <i>de mes soins</i>, +send for me without hesitation, and I will at once give my new +master warning, if I am still with him, and come to +you.”</p> +<p>Thus I was deprived for a time of the services of <a +name="page110"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +110</span>Antonio. I continued for a few days without a +domestic, at the end of which time I hired a certain Cantabrian +or Basque, a native of the village of Hernani, in Guipuzcoa, who +was strongly recommended to me.</p> +<h2><a name="page111"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +111</span>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Euscarra—Basque not Irish—Sanscrit +and Tartar Dialects—A Vowel Language—Popular +Poetry—The Basques—Their Persons—Basque +Women.</p> +<p>I now entered upon the year 1838, perhaps the most eventful of +all those which I passed in Spain. The <i>despacho</i> +still continued open, with a somewhat increasing sale. +Having at this time little of particular moment with which to +occupy myself, I committed to the press two works, which for some +time past had been in the course of preparation. These were +the Gospel of St. Luke in the Spanish gypsy and the Euscarra +languages. <a name="citation111a"></a><a href="#footnote111a" +class="citation">[111a]</a></p> +<p>With respect to the gypsy Gospel, I have little to say, having +already spoken of it in a former work; <a +name="citation111b"></a><a href="#footnote111b" +class="citation">[111b]</a> it was translated by myself, together +with the greater part of the New Testament, during my <a +name="page112"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 112</span>long +intercourse with the Spanish gypsies. Concerning the Luke +in Euscarra, however, it will be as well to be more particular, +and to avail myself of the present opportunity to say a few words +concerning the language in which it was written, and the people +for whom it was intended.</p> +<p>The Euscarra, then, is the proper term for a certain speech or +language, supposed to have been at one time prevalent throughout +Spain, but which is at present confined to certain districts, +both on the French and Spanish side of the Pyrenees, which are +laved by the waters of the Cantabrian Gulf, or Bay of +Biscay. This language is commonly known as the Basque, or +Biscayan, which words are mere modifications of the word +Euscarra, the consonant B having been prefixed for the sake of +euphony. Much that is vague, erroneous, and hypothetical +has been said and written concerning this tongue. The +Basques assert that it was not only the original language of +Spain, but also of the world, and that from it all other +languages are derived; but the Basques are a very ignorant +people, and know nothing of the philosophy of language. +Very little importance, therefore, need be attached to any +opinion of theirs on such a subject. A few amongst them, +however, who affect some degree of learning, contend that it is +neither more nor less than a dialect of the Phœnician, and +that the Basques are the descendants of a Phœnician colony, +established at the foot of the Pyrenees at a very remote +period. Of this theory, or rather conjecture, as it is +unsubstantiated by the slightest proof, it is needless to take +further notice than to observe that, provided the Phœnician +language, as many of the <i>truly learned</i> have supposed, and +almost proved, was a dialect of the <a name="page113"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 113</span>Hebrew, or closely allied to it, it +were as unreasonable to suppose that the Basque is derived from +it as that the Kamschatkan and Cherokee are dialects of the Greek +and Latin.</p> +<p>There is, however, another opinion with respect to the Basque +which deserves more especial notice, from the circumstance of its +being extensively entertained amongst the <i>literati</i> of +various countries of Europe, more especially England. I +allude to the Celtic origin of this tongue, and its close +connexion with the most cultivated of all the Celtic +dialects—the Irish. People who pretend to be well +conversant with the subject, have even gone so far as to assert, +that so little difference exists between the Basque and Irish +tongues, that individuals of the two nations, when they meet +together, find no difficulty in understanding each other, with no +other means of communication than their respective languages; in +a word, that there is scarcely a greater difference between the +two than between the French and the Spanish Basque. Such +similarity, however, though so strongly insisted upon, by no +means exists in fact; and perhaps in the whole of Europe it would +be difficult to discover two languages which exhibit fewer points +of mutual resemblance than the Basque and Irish.</p> +<p>The Irish, like most other European languages, is a dialect of +the Sanscrit, a <i>remote</i> one, as may well be supposed; the +corner of the western world in which it is still preserved being, +of all countries in Europe, the most distant from the proper home +of the parent tongue. It is still, however, a dialect of +that venerable and most original speech, not so closely +resembling it, it is true, as the English, Danish, and those +which belong to what is called the Gothic family, and far <a +name="page114"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 114</span>less than +those of the Sclavonian; for the nearer we approach to the East, +in equal degree the assimilation of languages to this parent +stock becomes more clear and distinct; but still a dialect, +agreeing with the Sanscrit in structure, in the arrangement of +words, and in many instances in the words themselves, which, +however modified, may still be recognized as Sanscrit. But +what is the Basque, and to what family does it properly +pertain?</p> +<p>To two great Asiatic languages all the dialects spoken at +present in Europe may be traced. These two, if not now +spoken, still exist in books, and are, moreover, the languages of +two of the principal religions of the East. I allude to the +Tibetian and Sanscrit—the sacred languages of the followers +of Buddh and Bramah. These tongues, though they possess +many words in common, which is easily to be accounted for by +their close proximity, are properly distinct, being widely +different in structure. In what this difference consists, I +have neither time nor inclination to state; suffice it to say, +that the Celtic, Gothic, and Sclavonian dialects in Europe belong +to the Sanscrit family, even as in the East the Persian, and to a +less degree the Arabic, Hebrew, etc.; <a +name="citation114"></a><a href="#footnote114" +class="citation">[114]</a> whilst to the Tibetian or Tartar +family in Asia pertain the Mandchou and Mongolian, the Calmuc and +the Turkish of the Caspian sea; and in Europe, the Hungarian and +the Basque <i>partially</i>.</p> +<p>Indeed, this latter language is a strange anomaly, so that +upon the whole it is less difficult to say what it is not, than +what it is. It abounds with Sanscrit words <a +name="page115"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 115</span>to such a +degree that its surface seems strewn with them. Yet would +it be wrong to term it a Sanscrit dialect, for in the collocation +of these words the Tartar form is most decidedly +observable. A considerable proportion of Tartar words is +likewise to be found in this language, though perhaps not in +equal numbers to the terms derived from the Sanscrit. Of +these Tartar etymons I shall at present content myself with +citing one, though, if necessary, it were easy to adduce +hundreds. This word is <i>Jauna</i>, or, as it is +pronounced, <i>Khauna</i>—a word in constant use amongst +the Basques, and which is the <i>Khan</i> of the Mongols and +Mandchous, and of the same signification—<i>Lord</i>.</p> +<p>Having closely examined the subject in all its various +bearings, and having weighed what is to be said on one side +against what is to be advanced on the other, I am inclined to +rank the Basque rather amongst the Tartar than the Sanscrit +dialects. Whoever should have an opportunity of comparing +the enunciation of the Basques and Tartars would, from that +alone, even if he understood them not, come to the conclusion +that their respective languages were formed on the same +principles. In both occur periods seemingly interminable, +during which the voice gradually ascends to a climax, and then +gradually sinks down.</p> +<p>I have spoken of the surprising number of Sanscrit words +contained in the Basque language, specimens of some of which will +be found below. It is remarkable enough, that in the +greater part of the derivatives from the Sanscrit, the Basque has +dropped the initial consonant, so that the word commences with a +vowel. The Basque, indeed, may be said to be almost a vowel +language, the number of consonants employed being comparatively +few; perhaps eight words out of ten <a name="page116"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 116</span>commence and terminate with a vowel, +owing to which it is a language to the highest degree soft and +melodious, far excelling in this respect any other language in +Europe, not even excepting the Italian. Here follow a few +specimens of Basque words with the Sanscrit roots in +juxtaposition:—</p> +<p> </p> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">basque</span>.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">sanscrit</span>.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: center"> </p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Ardoa <a name="citation116a"></a><a href="#footnote116a" +class="citation">[116a]</a></p> +</td> +<td><p>Sandhána</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Wine</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Arratsa</p> +</td> +<td><p>Ratri</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Night</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Beguia</p> +</td> +<td><p>Akshi</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Eye</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Choria</p> +</td> +<td><p>Chiria <a name="citation116a"></a><a href="#footnote116a" +class="citation">[116a]</a></p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Bird</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Chacurra</p> +</td> +<td><p>Cucura</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Dog</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Erreguiña <a name="citation116a"></a><a +href="#footnote116a" class="citation">[116a]</a></p> +</td> +<td><p>Rani</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Queen</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Icusi</p> +</td> +<td><p>Iksha</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>To see</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Iru</p> +</td> +<td><p>Treya</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Three</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Jan (Khan)</p> +</td> +<td><p>Khana</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>To eat</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Uria <a name="citation116a"></a><a href="#footnote116a" +class="citation">[116a]</a></p> +</td> +<td><p>Puri</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>City</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Urruti</p> +</td> +<td><p>Dura</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Far</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>Such is the tongue in which I brought out Saint Luke’s +Gospel at Madrid. The translation I procured originally +from a Basque physician of the name of Oteiza. <a +name="citation116b"></a><a href="#footnote116b" +class="citation">[116b]</a> Previous to being sent to the +press, the version had lain nearly two years in my possession, +during which time, and particularly during my travels, I lost no +opportunity of submitting it to the inspection of those who were +considered competent scholars in the Euscarra. It did not +entirely please me; but it was in vain to seek for a better +translation.</p> +<p>In my early youth I had obtained a slight acquaintance with +the Euscarra, as it exists in books. This acquaintance I +considerably increased during my stay in Spain, and, by +occasionally mingling with Basques, <a name="page117"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 117</span>was enabled to understand the spoken +language to a certain extent, and even to speak it, but always +with considerable hesitation; for to speak Basque, even +tolerably, it is necessary to have lived in the country from a +very early period. So great are the difficulties attending +it, and so strange are its peculiarities, that it is very rare to +find a foreigner possessed of any considerable skill in the oral +language, and the Spaniards consider the obstacles so formidable +that they have a proverb to the effect that Satan once lived +seven years in Biscay, and then departed, finding himself unable +either to understand or to make himself understood.</p> +<p>There are few inducements to the study of this language. +In the first place, the acquisition of it is by no means +necessary even to those who reside in the countries where it is +spoken, the Spanish being generally understood throughout the +Basque provinces pertaining to Spain, and the French in those +pertaining to France.</p> +<p>In the second place, neither dialect is in possession of any +peculiar literature capable of repaying the toil of the +student. There are various books extant both in French and +Spanish Basque, <a name="citation117"></a><a href="#footnote117" +class="citation">[117]</a> but these consist entirely of Popish +devotion, and are for the most part translations.</p> +<p>It will, perhaps, here be asked whether the Basques do not +possess popular poetry, like most other nations, however small +and inconsiderable. They have certainly no lack of songs, +ballads, and stanzas, but of a character by no means entitled to +the appellation of poetry. I have noted down from +recitation, a considerable portion of what they call their +poetry, but the only tolerable specimen of verse which I ever <a +name="page118"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 118</span>discovered +amongst them was the following stanza, which, after all, is not +entitled to very high praise:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Ichasoa urac aundi,<br /> +Estu ondoric agueri—<br /> +Pasaco ninsaqueni andic<br /> +Maitea icustea gatic.” <a name="citation118a"></a><a +href="#footnote118a" class="citation">[118a]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p><i>i.e.</i> “The waters of the sea are vast, and their +bottom cannot be seen; but over them I will pass, that I may +behold my love.”</p> +<p>The Basques are a singing rather than a poetical people. +Notwithstanding the facility with which their tongue lends itself +to the composition of verse, they have never produced among them +a poet with the slightest pretensions to reputation; but their +voices are singularly sweet, and they are known to excel in +musical composition. It is the opinion of a certain author, +the Abbé D’Iharce, <a name="citation118b"></a><a +href="#footnote118b" class="citation">[118b]</a> who has written +about them, that they derived the name <i>Cantabri</i>, by which +they are known to the Romans, from <i>Khantor-ber</i>, signifying +sweet singers. They possess much music of their own, some +of which is said to be exceedingly ancient. Of this music +specimens were published at Donostian (San Sebastian) in the year +1826, edited by a certain Juan Ignacio Iztueta. <a +name="citation118c"></a><a href="#footnote118c" +class="citation">[118c]</a> These consist of wild and +thrilling marches, to the sound of which it is <a +name="page119"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 119</span>believed +that the ancient Basques were in the habit of descending from +their mountains to combat with the Romans, and subsequently with +the Moors. Whilst listening to them it is easy to suppose +one’s self in the close vicinity of some desperate +encounter. We seem to hear the charge of cavalry on the +sounding plain, the clash of swords, and the rushing of men down +the gorges of hills. This music is accompanied with words, +but such words! Nothing can be imagined more stupid, +commonplace, and uninteresting. So far from being martial, +they relate to everyday incidents, and appear to have no +connexion whatever with the music. They are evidently of +modern date.</p> +<p>In person the Basques are of the middle size, and are active +and athletic. They are in general of fair complexions and +handsome features, and in appearance bear no slight resemblance +to certain Tartar tribes of the Caucasus. Their bravery is +unquestionable, and they are considered as the best soldiery +belonging to the Spanish crown: a fact highly corroborative of +the supposition that they are of Tartar origin, the Tartars being +of all races the most warlike, and amongst whom the most +remarkable conquerors have been produced. They are faithful +and honest, and capable of much disinterested attachment; kind +and hospitable to strangers; all of which points are far from +being at variance with the Tartar character. But they are +somewhat dull, and their capacities are by no means of a high +order, and in these respects they again resemble the Tartars.</p> +<p>No people on earth are prouder than the Basques, but theirs is +a kind of republican pride. They have no nobility amongst +them, and no one will acknowledge a superior. The poorest +carman is as proud <a name="page120"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +120</span>as the governor of Tolosa. “He is more +powerful than I,” he will say, “but I am of as good +blood; perhaps hereafter I may become a governor +myself.” They abhor servitude, at least out of their +own country; and though circumstances frequently oblige them to +seek masters, it is very rare to find them filling the places of +common domestics; they are stewards, secretaries, accountants, +etc. True it is, that it was my own fortune to obtain a +Basque domestic; but then he always treated me more as an equal +than a master, would sit down in my presence, give me his advice +unasked, and enter into conversation with me at all times and +occasions. Did I check him? Certainly not! For +in that case he would have left me, and a more faithful creature +I never knew. His fate was a mournful one, as will appear +in the sequel.</p> +<p>I have said that the Basques abhor servitude, and are rarely +to be found serving as domestics amongst the Spaniards. I +allude, however, merely to the males. The females, on the +contrary, have no objection whatever to enter houses as +servants. Women, indeed, amongst the Basques are not looked +upon with all the esteem which they deserve, and are considered +as fitted for little else than to perform menial offices, even as +in the East, where they are viewed in the light of servants and +slaves. The Basque females differ widely in character from +the men; they are quick and vivacious, and have in general much +more talent. They are famous for their skill as cooks, and +in most respectable houses of Madrid a Biscayan female may be +found in the kitchen, queen supreme of the culinary department. +<a name="citation120"></a><a href="#footnote120" +class="citation">[120]</a></p> +<h2><a name="page121"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +121</span>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">The Prohibition—Gospel +Persecuted—Charge of Sorcery—Ofalia.</p> +<p>About the middle of January <a name="citation121a"></a><a +href="#footnote121a" class="citation">[121a]</a> a swoop was made +upon me by my enemies, in the shape of a peremptory prohibition +from the political governor of Madrid to sell any more New +Testaments. This measure by no means took me by surprise, +as I had for some time previously been expecting something of the +kind, on account of the political sentiments of the ministers +then in power. I forthwith paid a visit to Sir George +Villiers, informing him of what had occurred. He promised +to do all he could to cause the prohibition to be +withdrawn. Unfortunately, at this time he had not much +influence, having opposed with all his might the entrance of the +<i>moderado</i> <a name="citation121b"></a><a +href="#footnote121b" class="citation">[121b]</a> ministry to +power, and the nomination of Ofalia <a name="citation121c"></a><a +href="#footnote121c" class="citation">[121c]</a> to the +presidency of the cabinet. I however, never lost confidence +in the Almighty, in whose cause I was engaged.</p> +<p>Matters were going on very well before this check. The +demand for Testaments was becoming considerable, so much so that +the clergy were alarmed, and <a name="page122"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 122</span>this step was the consequence. +But they had previously recourse to another, well worthy of them; +they attempted to act upon my fears. One of the ruffians of +Madrid, called <i>Manolos</i>, came up to me one night, in a dark +street, and told me that unless I discontinued selling my +“Jewish books,” I should have a knife +“<i>nailed in my heart</i>;” but I told him to go +home, say his prayers, and tell his employers that I pitied them; +whereupon he turned away with an oath. A few days after, I +received an order to send two copies of the Testament to the +office of the political governor, with which I complied, and in +less than twenty-four hours an <i>alguazil</i> arrived at the +shop with a notice prohibiting the further sale of the work.</p> +<p>One circumstance rejoiced me. Singular as it may appear, +the authorities took no measures to cause my little +<i>despacho</i> to be closed, and I received no prohibition +respecting the sale of any work but the New Testament, and as the +Gospel of Saint Luke, in Romany and Basque, would within a short +time be ready for delivery, I hoped to carry on matters in a +small way till better times should arrive.</p> +<p>I was advised to erase from the shop windows the words +“<i>Despacho</i> of the British and Foreign Bible +Society.” This, however, I refused to do. Those +words had tended very much to call attention, which was my grand +object. Had I attempted to conduct things in an underhand +manner, I should, at the time of which I am speaking, scarcely +have sold thirty copies in Madrid, instead of nearly three +hundred. People who know me not, may be disposed to call me +rash; but I am far from being so, as I never adopt a venturous +course when any other is open to me. I <a +name="page123"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 123</span>am not, +however, a person to be terrified by any danger, when I see that +braving it is the only way to achieve an object.</p> +<p>The booksellers were unwilling to sell my work; I was +compelled to establish a shop of my own. Every shop in +Madrid has a name. What name could I give it but the true +one? I was not ashamed of my cause or my colours. I +hoisted them, and fought beneath them, not without success.</p> +<p>The priestly party in Madrid, in the mean time, spared no +effort to vilify me. They started a publication called +<i>The Friend of the Christian Religion</i>, in which a stupid +but furious attack upon me appeared, which I, however, treated +with the contempt it deserved. But not satisfied with this, +they endeavoured to incite the populace against me, by telling +them that I was a sorcerer, and a companion of gypsies and +witches, and their agents even called me so in the streets. +That I was an associate of gypsies and fortune-tellers I do not +deny. Why should I be ashamed of their company when my +Master mingled with publicans and thieves? Many of the +gypsy race came frequently to visit me; received instruction, and +heard parts of the Gospel read to them in their own language, and +when they were hungry and faint, I gave them to eat and +drink. This might be deemed sorcery in Spain, but I am not +without hope that it will be otherwise estimated in England; and +had I perished at this period, I think there are some who would +have been disposed to acknowledge that I had not lived altogether +in vain (always as an instrument of the “Most +Highest”), having been permitted to turn one of the most +valuable books of God into the speech of the most degraded of His +creatures.</p> +<p><a name="page124"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 124</span>In +the mean time I endeavoured to enter into negotiations with the +ministry for the purpose of obtaining permission to sell the New +Testament in Madrid, and the nullification of the +prohibition. I experienced, however, great opposition, +which I was unable to surmount. Several of the ultra-popish +bishops, then resident in Madrid, had denounced the Bible, the +Bible Society, and myself. Nevertheless, notwithstanding +their powerful and united efforts, they were unable to effect +their principal object, namely, my expulsion from Madrid and +Spain. The Count Ofalia, notwithstanding he had permitted +himself to be made the instrument, to a certain extent, of these +people, would not consent to be pushed to such a length. +Throughout this affair I cannot find words sufficiently strong to +do justice to the zeal and interest which Sir George Villiers +displayed in the cause of the Testament. He had various +interviews with Ofalia on the subject, and in these he expressed +to him his sense of the injustice and tyranny which had been +practised in this instance towards his countryman.</p> +<p>Ofalia had been moved by these remonstrances, and more than +once promised to do all in his power to oblige Sir George; but +then the bishops again beset him, and playing upon his political +if not religious fears, prevented him from acting a just, honest, +and honourable part. At the desire of Sir George Villiers, +I drew up a brief account of the Bible Society, and an exposition +of its views, especially in respect to Spain, which he presented +with his own hand to the Count. I shall not trouble the +reader by inserting this memorial, but content myself with +observing, that I made no attempts to flatter and cajole, but +expressed myself honestly and frankly, as a Christian +ought. <a name="page125"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +125</span>Ofalia, on reading it, said, “What a pity that +this is a Protestant society, and that all its members are not +Catholics!”</p> +<p>A few days subsequently, to my great astonishment, he sent a +message to me by a friend, requesting that I would send him a +copy of my gypsy Gospel. I may as well here state, that the +fame of this work, though not yet published, had already spread +like wildfire through Madrid, and every person was passionately +eager to possess a copy: indeed, several grandees of Spain sent +messages with similar requests, all of which I however +denied. I instantly resolved to take advantage of this +overture on the part of Count Ofalia, and to call on him +myself. I therefore caused a copy of the Gospel to be +handsomely bound, and proceeding to the palace, was instantly +admitted to him. He was a dusky, diminutive person, between +fifty and sixty years of age, with false hair and teeth, but +exceedingly gentlemanly manners. He received me with great +affability, and thanked me for my present; but on my proceeding +to speak of the New Testament, he told me that the subject was +surrounded with difficulties, and that the great body of the +clergy had taken up the matter against me; he conjured me, +however, to be patient and peaceable, in which case he said he +would endeavour to devise some plan to satisfy me. Amongst +other things, he observed that the bishops hated a sectarian more +than an atheist. Whereupon I replied, that, like the +Pharisees of old, they cared more for the gold of the temple than +the temple itself. Throughout the whole of our interview he +evidently laboured under great fear, and was continually looking +behind and around him, seemingly in dread of being overheard, +which brought to my mind <a name="page126"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 126</span>an expression of a friend of mine, +that if there be any truth in metempsychosis, the soul of Count +Ofalia must have originally belonged to a mouse. We parted +in kindness, and I went away, wondering by what strange chance +this poor man had become prime minister of a country like +Spain.</p> +<h2><a name="page127"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +127</span>CHAPTER XXXIX.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">The Two Gospels—The Alguazil—The +Warrant—The Good Maria—The Arrest—Sent to +Prison—Reflections—The Reception—The Prison +Room—Redress demanded.</p> +<p>At length the Gospel of Saint Luke in the gypsy language was +in a state of readiness. I therefore deposited a certain +number of copies in the <i>despacho</i>, and announced them for +sale. The Basque, which was by this time also printed, was +likewise advertised. For this last work there was little +demand. Not so, however, for the gypsy Luke, of which I +could easily have disposed of the whole edition in less than a +fortnight. Long, however, before this period had expired +the clergy were up in arms. “Sorcery!” said one +bishop. “There is more in this than we can dive +into,” exclaimed a second. “He will convert all +Spain by means of the gypsy language,” cried a third. +And then came the usual chorus on such occasions, of <i>Que +infamia</i>! <i>Que picardia</i>! At last, having +consulted together, away they hurried to their tool the +<i>corregidor</i> or, according to the modern term, the <i>gefe +politico</i> <a name="citation127"></a><a href="#footnote127" +class="citation">[127]</a> of Madrid. I have forgotten the +name of this worthy, <a name="page128"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 128</span>of whom I had myself no personal +knowledge whatever. Judging from his actions, however, and +from common report, I should say that he was a stupid, +wrong-headed creature, savage withal—a +<i>mélange</i> of <i>borrico</i>, mule, and wolf. +Having an inveterate antipathy to all foreigners, he lent a +willing ear to the complaint of my accusers, and forthwith gave +orders to make a seizure of all the copies of the gypsy Gospel +which could be found in the <i>despacho</i>. The +consequence was, that a numerous body of <i>alguazils</i> +directed their steps to the Calle del Principe; some thirty +copies of the book in question were pounced upon, and about the +same number of Saint Luke in Basque. With this spoil these +satellites returned in triumph to the <i>gefatura politica</i>, +where they divided the copies of the gypsy volume amongst +themselves, selling subsequently the greater number at a large +price, the book being in the greatest demand, and thus becoming +unintentionally agents of an heretical society. But every +one must live by his trade, say these people, and they lose no +opportunity of making their words good, by disposing to the best +advantage of any booty which falls into their hands. As no +person cared about the Basque Gospel, it was safely stowed away, +with other unmarketable captures, in the warehouses of the +office.</p> +<p>The gypsy Gospels had now been seized, at least as many as +were exposed for sale in the <i>despacho</i>. The +<i>corregidor</i> and his friends, however, were of opinion that +many more might be obtained by means of a little +management. Fellows, therefore, hangers on of the +police-office, were daily despatched to the shop in all kinds of +disguises, inquiring, with great seeming anxiety, for +“gypsy books,” and offering high prices for +copies. They, however, returned to their employers <a +name="page129"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +129</span>empty-handed. My Gallegan was on his guard, +informing all who made inquiries, that books of no description +would be sold at the establishment for the present. Which +was in truth the case, as I had given him particular orders to +sell no more under any pretence whatever.</p> +<p>I got no credit, however, for my frank dealing. The +<i>corregidor</i> and his confederates could not persuade +themselves but that, by some means mysterious and unknown to +them, I was daily selling hundreds of these gypsy books, which +were to revolutionize the country, and annihilate the power of +the Father of Rome. A plan was therefore resolved upon, by +means of which they hoped to have an opportunity of placing me in +a position which would incapacitate me for some time from taking +any active measures to circulate the Scriptures, either in gypsy +or in any other language.</p> +<p>It was on the morning of the first of May, <a +name="citation129a"></a><a href="#footnote129a" +class="citation">[129a]</a> [1838,] if I forget not, that an +unknown individual made his appearance in my apartment as I was +seated at breakfast; he was a mean-looking fellow, about the +middle stature, with a countenance on which knave was written in +legible characters. The hostess ushered him in, and then +withdrew. I did not like the appearance of my visitor, but +assuming some degree of courtesy, I requested him to sit down, +and demanded his business. “I come from his +excellency the political <a name="citation129b"></a><a +href="#footnote129b" class="citation">[129b]</a> chief of +Madrid,” he replied, “and my business is to inform +you that his excellency is perfectly aware of your proceedings, +and is at any time able to prove that you are still disposing of +in secret those evil books which you have been forbidden to +sell.” “Is <a name="page130"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 130</span>he so?” I replied; “pray +let him do so forthwith; but what need of giving me +information?” “Perhaps,” continued the +fellow, “you think his worship has no witnesses; know, +however, that he has many, and respectable ones too.” +“Doubtless,” I replied, “and from the +respectability of your own appearance, you are perhaps one of +them. But you are occupying my time unprofitably; begone, +therefore, and tell whoever sent you, that I have by no means a +high opinion of his wisdom.” “I shall go when I +please,” retorted the fellow; “do you know to whom +you are speaking? Are you aware that if I think fit I can +search your apartment, yes, even below your bed? What have +we here,” he continued, and commenced with his stick poking +a heap of papers which lay upon a chair; “what have we +here? Are these also papers of the gypsies?” I +instantly determined upon submitting no longer to this behaviour, +and taking the fellow by the arm, led him out of the apartment; +and then, still holding him, conducted him downstairs from the +third floor in which I lived, into the street, looking him +steadfastly in the face the whole while.</p> +<p>The fellow had left his <i>sombrero</i> on the table, which I +despatched to him by the landlady, who delivered it into his hand +as he stood in the street staring with distended eyes at the +balcony of my apartment.</p> +<p>“A <i>trampa</i> has been laid for you, <i>Don +Jorge</i>,” said Maria Diaz, when she had re-ascended from +the street; “that <i>corchete</i> came here with no other +intention than to have a dispute with you. Out of every +word you have said he will make a long history, as is the custom +with these people; indeed, he said, as I handed him his hat, that +ere twenty-four hours were over, you should see the inside of the +prison of Madrid.”</p> +<p><a name="page131"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 131</span>In +effect, during the course of the morning, I was told that a +warrant had been issued for my apprehension. The prospect +of incarceration, however, did not fill me with much dismay; an +adventurous life and inveterate habits of wandering having long +familiarized me to situations of every kind, so much so as to +feel myself quite as comfortable in a prison as in the gilded +chambers of palaces; indeed, more so, as in the former place I +can always add to my store of useful information, whereas in the +latter, ennui frequently assails me. I had, moreover, been +thinking for some time past of paying a visit to the prison, +partly in the hope of being able to say a few words of Christian +instruction to the criminals, and partly with the view of making +certain investigations in the robber language of Spain, a subject +about which I had long felt much curiosity; indeed, I had already +made application for admittance into the Carcel de la Corte, <a +name="citation131"></a><a href="#footnote131" +class="citation">[131]</a> but had found the matter surrounded +with difficulties, as my friend Ofalia would have said. I +rather rejoiced, then, in the opportunity which was now about to +present itself of entering the prison, not in the character of a +visitor for an hour, but as a martyr, and as one suffering in the +holy cause of religion. I was determined, however, to +disappoint my enemies for that day at least, and to render null +the threat of the <i>alguazil</i>, that I should be imprisoned +within twenty-four hours. I therefore took up my abode for +the rest of the day in a celebrated French tavern in the Calle +del Caballero de Gracia, which, as it was one of the most +fashionable and public places in Madrid, I naturally concluded +was one of the last where the <i>corregidor</i> would think of +seeking me.</p> +<p><a name="page132"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 132</span>About +ten at night, Maria Diaz, to whom I had communicated the place of +my retreat, arrived with her son, Juan Lopez. +“<i>O</i>, <i>señor</i>,” said she, on seeing +me, “they are already in quest of you; the <i>alcalde</i> +of the <i>barrio</i>, with a large <i>comitiva</i> of +<i>alguazils</i> and such-like people, have just been at our +house with a warrant for your imprisonment from the +<i>corregidor</i>. They searched the whole house, and were +much disappointed at not finding you. Woe is me, what will +they do when they catch you?” “Be under no +apprehensions, good Maria,” said I; “you forget that +I am an Englishman, and so it seems does the +<i>corregidor</i>. Whenever he catches me, depend upon it +he will be glad enough to let me go. For the present, +however, we will permit him to follow his own course, for the +spirit of folly seems to have seized him.”</p> +<p>I slept at the tavern, and in the forenoon of the following +day repaired to the Embassy, where I had an interview with Sir +George, to whom I related every circumstance of the affair. +He said that he could scarcely believe that the <i>corregidor</i> +entertained any serious intentions of imprisoning me; in the +first place, because I had committed no offence; and in the +second, because I was not under the jurisdiction of that +functionary, but under that of the captain-general, who was alone +empowered to decide upon matters which relate to foreigners, and +before whom I must be brought in the presence of the consul of my +nation. “However,” said he, “there is no +knowing to what length these jacks in office may go. I +therefore advise you, if you are under any apprehension, to +remain as my guest at the Embassy for a few days, for here you +will be quite safe.” I assured him that I was under +no apprehension whatever, having long been <a +name="page133"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 133</span>accustomed +to adventures of this kind. From the apartment of Sir +George I proceeded to that of the first secretary of embassy, Mr. +Southern, with whom I entered into conversation. I had +scarcely been there a minute when my servant Francisco rushed in, +much out of breath, and in violent agitation, exclaiming in +Basque, “<i>Niri jauna</i>, the <i>alguaziloac</i>, and the +<i>corchetoac</i>, and all the other <i>lapurrac</i> <a +name="citation133"></a><a href="#footnote133" +class="citation">[133]</a> are again at the house. They +seem half mad, and not being able to find you, are searching your +papers, thinking, I suppose, that you are hid among +them.” Mr. Southern here interrupting him, inquired +of me what all this meant. Whereupon I told him, saying at +the same time, that it was my intention to proceed at once to my +lodgings. “But perhaps these fellows will arrest +you,” said Mr. S., “before we can +interfere.” “I must take my chance as to +that,” I replied, and presently afterwards departed.</p> +<p>Ere, however, I had reached the middle of the street of +Alcalá, two fellows came up to me, and telling me that I +was their prisoner, commanded me to follow them to the office of +the <i>corregidor</i>. They were, in fact, +<i>alguazils</i>, who, suspecting that I might enter or come out +of the Embassy, had stationed themselves in the +neighbourhood. I instantly turned round to Francisco, and +told him in Basque to return to the Embassy, and to relate there +to the secretary what had just occurred. The poor fellow +set off like lightning, turning half round, however, to shake his +fist, and to vent a Basque execration at the two <i>lapurrac</i>, +as he called the <i>alguazils</i>.</p> +<p>They conducted me to the <i>gefatura</i>, or office of the <a +name="page134"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +134</span><i>corregidor</i>, where they ushered me into a large +room, and motioned me to sit down on a wooden bench. They +then stationed themselves on each side of me. There were at +least twenty people in the apartment beside ourselves, evidently +from their appearance officials of the establishment. They +were all well dressed, for the most part in the French fashion, +in round hats, coats, and pantaloons, and yet they looked what in +reality they were, Spanish <i>alguazils</i>, spies, and +informers: and Gil Blas, could he have waked from his sleep of +two centuries, would, notwithstanding the change of fashion, have +had no difficulty in recognizing them. They glanced at me +as they stood lounging about the room; then gathered themselves +together in a circle and began conversing in whispers. I +heard one of them say, “He understands the seven gypsy +jargons.” <a name="citation134a"></a><a +href="#footnote134a" class="citation">[134a]</a> Then +presently another, evidently from his language an Andalusian, +said, “<i>Es muy diestro</i>, <a name="citation134b"></a><a +href="#footnote134b" class="citation">[134b]</a> and can ride a +horse and dart a knife full as well as if he came from my own +country.” Thereupon they all turned round and +regarded me with a species of interest, evidently mingled with +respect, which most assuredly they would not have exhibited had +they conceived that I was merely an honest man bearing witness in +a righteous cause.</p> +<p>I waited patiently on the bench at least one hour, expecting +every moment to be summoned before my lord the +<i>corregidor</i>. I suppose, however, that I was not +deemed worthy of being permitted to see so exalted a personage, +for at the end of that time, an elderly man—one, however, +of the <i>alguazil</i> genus—came into the room and +advanced directly towards me. “Stand up,” said +he. I obeyed. “What is your <a +name="page135"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +135</span>name?” he demanded. I told him. +“Then,” he replied, exhibiting a paper which he held +in his hand, “<i>señor</i>, it is the will of his +excellency the <i>corregidor</i>, that you be forthwith sent to +prison.”</p> +<p>He looked at me steadfastly as he spoke, perhaps expecting +that I should sink into the earth at the formidable name of +prison; I, however, only smiled. He then delivered the +paper, which I suppose was the warrant for my committal, into the +hand of one of my two captors, and obeying a sign which they +made, I followed them.</p> +<p>I subsequently learned that the secretary of legation, Mr. +Southern, had been despatched by Sir George, as soon as the +latter had obtained information of my arrest, and had been +waiting at the office during the greater part of the time that I +was there. He had demanded an audience of the +<i>corregidor</i>, in which he had intended to have remonstrated +with him, and pointed out to him the danger to which he was +subjecting himself by the rash step which he was taking. +The sullen functionary, however, had refused to see him, +thinking, perhaps, that to listen to reason would be a +dereliction of dignity; by this conduct, however, he most +effectually served me, as no person, after such a specimen of +uncalled-for insolence, felt disposed to question the violence +and injustice which had been practised towards me.</p> +<p>The <i>alguazils</i> conducted me across the Plaza Mayor to +the Carcel de la Corte, or prison of the court, as it is +called. Whilst going across the square, I remembered that +this was the place where, in “the good old times,” +the Inquisition of Spain was in the habit of holding its solemn +<i>Autos da fé</i>, and I cast my eye to the balcony of +the city hall, where at the most solemn <a +name="page136"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 136</span>of them +all, the last of the Austrian line in Spain sat, and after some +thirty heretics, of both sexes, had been burnt by fours and by +fives, wiped his face, perspiring with heat, and black with +smoke, and calmly inquired, “<i>No hay mas</i>?” <a +name="citation136"></a><a href="#footnote136" +class="citation">[136]</a> for which exemplary proof of patience +he was much applauded by his priests and confessors, who +subsequently poisoned him. “And here am I,” +thought I, “who have done more to wound Popery than all the +poor Christian martyrs that ever suffered in this accursed +square, merely sent to prison, from which I am sure to be +liberated in a few days, with credit and applause. Pope of +Rome! I believe you to be as malicious as ever, but you are +sadly deficient in power. You are become paralytic, +<i>Batuschca</i>, and your club has degenerated to a +crutch.”</p> +<p>We arrived at the prison, which stands in a narrow street not +far from the great square. We entered a dusky passage, at +the end of which was a wicket door. My conductors knocked, +a fierce visage peered through the wicket; there was an exchange +of words, and in a few moments I found myself within the prison +of Madrid, in a kind of corridor which overlooked at a +considerable altitude what appeared to be a court, from which +arose a hubbub of voices, and occasionally wild shouts and +cries. Within the corridor, which served as a kind of +office, were several people; one of them sat behind a desk, and +to him the <i>alguazils</i> went up, and after discoursing with +him some time in low tones, delivered the warrant into his +hands. He perused it with attention, then rising he +advanced to me. What a figure! He was about forty +years of age, and his height might have amounted to some six feet +two inches, had he not been curved much after the fashion <a +name="page137"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 137</span>of the +letter S. No weazel ever appeared lanker, and he looked as +if a breath of air would have been sufficient to blow him +away. His face might certainly have been called handsome, +had it not been for its extraordinary and portentous meagreness; +his nose was like an eagle’s bill, his teeth white as +ivory, his eyes black—oh, how black!—and fraught with +a strange expression; his skin was dark, and the hair of his head +like the plumage of the raven. A deep quiet smile dwelt +continually on his features; but with all the quiet it was a +cruel smile, such a one as would have graced the countenance of a +Nero. “<i>Mais en revanche personne +n’étoit plus honnête</i>”. +“<i>Caballero</i>,” said he, “allow me to +introduce myself to you as the <i>alcayde</i> of this +prison. I perceive by this paper that I am to have the +honour of your company for a time, a short time doubtless, +beneath this roof; I hope you will banish every apprehension from +your mind. I am charged to treat you with all the respect +which is due to the illustrious nation to which you belong, and +which a cavalier of such exalted category as yourself is entitled +to expect. A needless charge, it is true, as I should only +have been too happy of my own accord to have afforded you every +comfort and attention. <i>Caballero</i>, you will rather +consider yourself here as a guest than a prisoner; you will be +permitted to roam over every part of this house whenever you +think proper. You will find matters here not altogether +below the attention of a philosophic mind. Pray issue +whatever commands you may think fit to the turnkeys and +officials, even as if they were your own servants, I will now +have the honour of conducting you to your apartment—the +only one at present unoccupied. We invariably reserve it +for cavaliers of distinction. I am <a +name="page138"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 138</span>happy to +say that my orders are again in consonance with my +inclination. No charge whatever will be made for it to you, +though the daily hire of it is not unfrequently an ounce of +gold. I entreat you, therefore, to follow me, cavalier, who +am at all times and seasons the most obedient and devoted of your +servants.” Here he took off his hat and bowed +profoundly.</p> +<p>Such was the speech of the <i>alcayde</i> of the prison of +Madrid; a speech delivered in pure sonorous Castilian, with +calmness, gravity, and almost with dignity; a speech which would +have done honour to a gentleman of high birth, to Monsieur +Bassompierre, of the Old Bastile, receiving an Italian prince, or +the High Constable of the Tower an English duke attainted of high +treason. Now, who in the name of wonder was this +<i>alcayde</i>?</p> +<p>One of the greatest rascals in all Spain. A fellow who +had more than once, by his grasping cupidity, and by his +curtailment of the miserable rations of the prisoners, caused an +insurrection in the court below, only to be repressed by +bloodshed, and by summoning military aid; a fellow of low birth, +who, only five years previous, had been <i>drummer</i> to a band +of royalist volunteers!</p> +<p>But Spain is the land of extraordinary characters.</p> +<p>I followed the <i>alcayde</i> to the end of the corridor, +where was a massive grated door, on each side of which sat a grim +fellow of a turnkey. The door was opened, and turning to +the right we proceeded down another corridor, in which were many +people walking about, whom I subsequently discovered to be +prisoners like myself, but for political offences. At the +end of this corridor, which extended the whole length of the +<i>patio</i>, we turned into another, and the first apartment <a +name="page139"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 139</span>in this was +the one destined for myself. It was large and lofty, but +totally destitute of every species of furniture with the +exception of a huge wooden pitcher, intended to hold my daily +allowance of water. “<i>Caballero</i>,” said +the <i>alcayde</i>, “the apartment is without furniture, as +you see. It is already the third hour of the <i>tarde</i>, +I therefore advise you to lose no time in sending to your +lodgings for a bed and whatever you may stand in need of; the +<i>llavero</i> shall do your bidding. <i>Caballero</i>, +adieu, till I see you again.”</p> +<p>I followed his advice, and, writing a note in pencil to Maria +Diaz, I despatched it by the <i>llavero</i>, and then, sitting +down on the wooden pitcher, I fell into a reverie, which +continued for a considerable time.</p> +<p>Night arrived, and so did Maria Diaz, attended by two porters +and Francisco, all loaded with furniture. A lamp was +lighted, charcoal was kindled in the <i>brasero</i>, and the +prison gloom was to a certain degree dispelled.</p> +<p>I now left my seat on the pitcher, and sitting down on a +chair, proceeded to despatch some wine and viands, which my good +hostess had not forgotten to bring with her. Suddenly Mr. +Southern entered. He laughed heartily at finding me engaged +in the manner I have described. “B---,” said +he, “you are the man to get through the world, for you +appear to take all things coolly, and as matters of course. +That, however, which most surprises me with respect to you is, +your having so many friends; here you are in prison, surrounded +by people ministering to your comforts. Your very servant +is your friend, instead of being your worst enemy, as is usually +the case. That Basque of yours is a noble fellow. I +shall never forget how he spoke for you, when he came running <a +name="page140"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 140</span>to the +Embassy to inform us of your arrest. He interested both Sir +George and myself in the highest degree: should you ever wish to +part with him, I hope you will give me the refusal of his +services. But now to other matters.” He then +informed me that Sir George had already sent in an official note +to Ofalia, demanding redress for such a wanton outrage on the +person of a British subject. “You must remain in +prison,” said he, “to-night, but depend upon it that +to-morrow, if you are disposed, you may quit in +triumph.” “I am by no means disposed for any +such thing,” I replied. “They have put me in +prison for their pleasure, and I intend to remain here for my +own.” “If the confinement is not irksome to +you,” said Mr. Southern, “I think, indeed, it will be +your wisest plan; the government have committed themselves sadly +with regard to you; and, to speak plainly, we are by no means +sorry for it. They have on more than one occasion treated +ourselves very cavalierly, and we have now, if you continue firm, +an excellent opportunity of humbling their insolence. I +will instantly acquaint Sir George with your determination, and +you shall hear from us early on the morrow.” He then +bade me farewell; and flinging myself on my bed, I was soon +asleep in the prison of Madrid.</p> +<h2><a name="page141"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +141</span>CHAPTER XL.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Ofalia—The Juez—Carcel de la +Corte—Sunday in Prison—Robber Dress—Father and +Son—Characteristic Behaviour—The +Frenchman—Prison Allowance—Valley of the +Shadow—Pure Castilian—Balseiro—The +Cave—Robber Glory.</p> +<p>Ofalia quickly perceived that the imprisonment of a British +subject in a manner so illegal as that which had attended my own +was likely to be followed by rather serious consequences. +Whether he himself had at all encouraged the <i>corregidor</i> in +his behaviour towards me, it is impossible to say; the +probability is that he had not: the latter, however, was an +officer of his own appointing, for whose actions himself and the +government were to a certain extent responsible. Sir George +had already made a very strong remonstrance upon the subject, and +had even gone so far as to state in an official note that he +should desist from all farther communication with the Spanish +government until full and ample reparation had been afforded me +for the violence to which I had been subjected. +Ofalia’s reply was, that immediate measures should be taken +for my liberation, and that it would be my own fault if I +remained in prison. He forthwith ordered a <i>juez de la +primera instancia</i>, <a name="citation141"></a><a +href="#footnote141" class="citation">[141]</a> a kind of +solicitor-general, to wait <a name="page142"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 142</span>upon me, who was instructed to hear +my account of the affair, and then to dismiss me with an +admonition to be cautious for the future. My friends of the +Embassy, however, had advised me how to act in such a case. +Accordingly, when the <i>juez</i> on the second night of my +imprisonment made his appearance at the prison, and summoned me +before him, I went, but on his proceeding to question me, I +absolutely refused to answer. “I deny your right to +put any questions to me,” said I; “I entertain, +however, no feelings of disrespect to the government or to +yourself, <i>Caballero Juez</i>; but I have been illegally +imprisoned. So accomplished a jurist as yourself cannot +fail to be aware that, according to the laws of Spain, I, as a +foreigner, could not be committed to prison for the offence with +which I had been charged, without previously being conducted +before the captain-general of this royal city, whose duty it is +to protect foreigners, and see that the laws of hospitality are +not violated in their persons.</p> +<p><i>Juez</i>.—Come, come, <i>Don Jorge</i>, I see what +you are aiming at; but listen to reason: I will not now speak to +you as a <i>juez</i>, but as a friend who wishes you well, and +who entertains a profound reverence for the British nation. +This is a foolish affair altogether; I will not deny that the +political chief acted somewhat hastily on the information of a +person not perhaps altogether worthy of credit. No great +damage, however, has been done to you, and to a man of the world +like yourself, a little adventure of this kind is rather +calculated to afford amusement than anything else. Now be +advised, forget what has happened; you know that it is the part +and duty of a Christian to forgive. So, <i>Don Jorge</i>, I +advise you to leave this place forthwith; I dare say you are +getting tired of it. You are this <a +name="page143"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 143</span>moment free +to depart; repair at once to your lodgings, where I promise you +that no one shall be permitted to interrupt you for the +future. It is getting late, and the prison doors will +speedily be closed for the night. <i>Vamos</i>, <i>Don +Jorge</i>, <i>á la casa</i>, <i>á la posada</i>! <a +name="citation143a"></a><a href="#footnote143a" +class="citation">[143a]</a></p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—“But Paul said unto them, they have +beaten us openly uncondemned, being Romans, and have cast us into +prison; and now do they thrust us out privily? Nay, verily: +but let them come themselves and fetch us out.” <a +name="citation143b"></a><a href="#footnote143b" +class="citation">[143b]</a></p> +<p>I then bowed to the <i>juez</i>, who shrugged his shoulders +and took snuff. On leaving the apartment I turned to the +<i>alcayde</i>, who stood at the door: “Take notice,” +said I, “that I will not quit this prison till I have +received full satisfaction for being sent hither +uncondemned. You may expel me if you please, but any +attempt to do so shall be resisted with all the bodily strength +of which I am possessed.”</p> +<p>“Your worship is right,” said the <i>alcayde</i>, +with a bow, but in a low voice.</p> +<p>Sir George, on hearing of this affair, sent me a letter in +which he highly commended my resolution not to leave the prison +for the present, at the same time begging me to let him know if +there were anything that he could send me from the Embassy to +render my situation more tolerable.</p> +<p>I will now leave for the present my own immediate affairs, and +proceed to give some account of the prison of Madrid and its +inmates.</p> +<p>The Carcel de la Corte, where I now was, though the principal +prison of Madrid, is one which certainly in no respect does +credit to the capital of Spain. <a name="page144"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 144</span>Whether it was originally intended +for the purpose to which it is at present applied, I have no +opportunity of knowing. The chances, however, are, that it +was not; indeed it was not till of late years that the practice +of building edifices expressly intended and suited for the +incarceration of culprits came at all into vogue. Castles, +convents, and deserted palaces, have in all countries, at +different times, been converted into prisons, which practice +still holds good upon the greater part of the continent, and more +particularly in Spain and Italy, which accounts to a certain +extent for the insecurity of the prisons, and the misery, want of +cleanliness, and unhealthiness which in general pervade them.</p> +<p>I shall not attempt to enter into a particular description of +the prison of Madrid; indeed it would be quite impossible to +describe so irregular and rambling an edifice. Its +principal features consisted of two courts, the one behind the +other: intended for the great body of the prisoners to take air +and recreation in. Three large vaulted dungeons, or +<i>calabozos</i>, occupied three sides of this court, immediately +below the corridors of which I have already spoken. These +dungeons were roomy enough to contain respectively from one +hundred to one hundred and fifty prisoners, who were at night +secured therein with lock and bar, but during the day were +permitted to roam about the courts as they thought fit. The +second court was considerably larger than the first, though it +contained but two dungeons, horribly filthy and disgusting +places; this second court being used for the reception of the +lower grades of thieves. Of the two dungeons one was, if +possible, yet more horrible than the other; it was called the +<i>gallineria</i>, or chicken-coop, and within it every night <a +name="page145"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 145</span>were pent +up the young fry of the prison, wretched boys from seven to +fifteen years of age, the greater part almost in a state of +nudity. The common bed of all the inmates of these dungeons +was the ground, between which and their bodies nothing +intervened, save occasionally a <i>manta</i> or horse-cloth, or +perhaps a small mattress; this latter luxury was, however, of +exceedingly rare occurrence.</p> +<p>Besides the <i>calabozos</i> connected with the courts were +other dungeons in various parts of the prison; some of them quite +dark, intended for the reception of those whom it might be deemed +expedient to treat with peculiar severity. There was +likewise a ward set apart for females. Connected with the +principal corridor were many small apartments, where resided +prisoners confined for debt or for political offences. And, +lastly, there was a small <i>capilla</i>, or chapel, in which +prisoners cast for death passed the last three days of their +existence in company of their ghostly advisers.</p> +<p>I shall not soon forget my first Sunday in prison, Sunday is +the gala day of the prison, at least of that of Madrid, and +whatever robber finery is to be found within it is sure to be +exhibited on that day of holiness. There is not a set of +people in the world more vain than robbers in general, more fond +of cutting a figure whenever they have an opportunity, and of +attracting the eyes of their fellow-creatures by the gallantry of +their appearance. The famous Sheppard of olden times +delighted in sporting a suit of Genoese velvet, and when he +appeared in public generally wore a silver-hilted sword at his +side; whilst Vaux and Hayward, heroes of a later day, were the +best dressed men on the <i>pavé</i> of London. Many +of the Italian bandits go splendidly decorated, and the very <a +name="page146"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 146</span>gypsy +robber has a feeling for the charms of dress; the cap alone of +the Haram Pasha, or leader of the cannibal gypsy band which +infested Hungary towards the conclusion of the last century, was +adorned with gold and jewels to the value of four thousand +guilders. Observe, ye vain and frivolous, how vanity and +crime harmonize! The Spanish robbers are as fond of this +species of display as their brethren of other lands, and, whether +in prison or out of it, are never so happy as when, decked out in +a profusion of white linen, they can loll in the sun, or walk +jauntily up and down.</p> +<p>Snow-white linen, indeed, constitutes the principal feature in +the robber foppery of Spain. Neither coat nor jacket is +worn over the shirt, the sleeves of which are wide and flowing, +only a waistcoat of green or blue silk with an abundance of +silver buttons, which are intended more for show than use, as the +vest is seldom buttoned. Then there are wide trousers, +something after the Turkish fashion; around the waist is a +crimson <i>faja</i>, or girdle, and about the head is tied a +gaudily coloured handkerchief from the loom of Barcelona; light +pumps and silk stockings complete the robber’s array. +This dress is picturesque enough, and well adapted to the fine +sunshiny weather of the Peninsula; there is a dash of effeminacy +about it, however, hardly in keeping with the robber’s +desperate trade. It must not, however, be supposed that it +is every robber who can indulge in all this luxury; there are +various grades of thieves, some poor enough, with scarcely a rag +to cover them. Perhaps in the crowded prison of Madrid +there were not more than twenty who exhibited the dress which I +have attempted to describe above; these were <i>jente de +reputacion</i>, <a name="citation146"></a><a href="#footnote146" +class="citation">[146]</a> tip-top thieves, mostly <a +name="page147"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 147</span>young +fellows, who, though they had no money of their own, were +supported in prison by their <i>majas</i> and <i>amigas</i>, <a +name="citation147a"></a><a href="#footnote147a" +class="citation">[147a]</a> females of a certain class, who form +friendships with robbers, and whose glory and delight it is to +administer to the vanity of these fellows with the wages of their +own shame and abasement. These females supplied their +<i>cortejos</i> with the snowy linen, washed, perhaps, by their +own hands in the waters of the Manzanares, for the display of the +Sunday, when they would themselves make their appearance, dressed +<i>à la maja</i>, and from the corridors would gaze with +admiring eyes upon the robbers vapouring about in the court +below.</p> +<p>Amongst those of the snowy linen who most particularly +attracted my attention, were a father and son; the former was a +tall athletic figure of about thirty, by profession a +housebreaker, and celebrated throughout Madrid for the peculiar +dexterity which he exhibited in his calling. He was now in +prison for a rather atrocious murder committed in the dead of +night, in a house at Caramanchel, <a name="citation147b"></a><a +href="#footnote147b" class="citation">[147b]</a> in which his +only accomplice was his son, a child under seven years of +age. “The apple,” as the Danes say, “had +not fallen far from the tree;” the imp was in every respect +the counterpart of the father, though in miniature. He, +too, wore the robber shirt-sleeves, the robber waistcoat with the +silver buttons, the robber kerchief round his brow, and, +ridiculous enough, a long Manchegan knife in the crimson +<i>faja</i>. He was evidently the pride of the <a +name="page148"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 148</span>ruffian +father, who took all imaginable care of this chick of the +gallows, would dandle him on his knee, and would occasionally +take the cigar from his own moustached lips and insert it in the +urchin’s mouth. The boy was the pet of the court, for +the father was one of the <i>valientes</i> of the prison, and +those who feared his prowess, and wished to pay their court to +him, were always fondling the child. What an enigma is this +world of ours! How dark and mysterious are the sources of +what is called crime and virtue! If that infant wretch +become eventually a murderer like his father, is he to +blame? Fondled by robbers, already dressed as a robber, +born of a robber, whose own history was perhaps similar. Is +it right? . . .</p> +<p>Oh, man, man, seek not to dive into the mystery of moral good +and evil; confess thyself a worm, cast thyself on the earth, and +murmur with thy lips in the dust, Jesus, Jesus!</p> +<p>What most surprised me with respect to the prisoners was their +good behaviour; I call it good when all things are taken into +consideration, and when I compare it with that of the general +class of prisoners in foreign lands. They had their +occasional bursts of wild gaiety, their occasional quarrels, +which they were in the habit of settling in a corner of the +interior court with their long knives; <a +name="citation148"></a><a href="#footnote148" +class="citation">[148]</a> the result not unfrequently being +death, or a dreadful gash in the face or the abdomen; but, upon +the whole, their conduct was infinitely superior to what might +have been expected from the inmates of such a place. Yet +this was not the result of coercion, or any particular care which +was exercised over them; for perhaps in no part of the world are +prisoners so left to themselves and so <a +name="page149"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 149</span>utterly +neglected as in Spain: the authorities having no farther anxiety +about them than to prevent their escape; not the slightest +attention being paid to their moral conduct, and not a thought +bestowed upon their health, comfort, or mental improvement, +whilst within the walls. Yet in this prison of Madrid, and +I may say in Spanish prisons in general, for I have been an +inmate of more than one, <a name="citation149"></a><a +href="#footnote149" class="citation">[149]</a> the ears of the +visitor are never shocked with horrid blasphemy and obscenity, as +in those of some other countries, and more particularly in +civilized France; nor are his eyes outraged and himself insulted, +as he would assuredly be, were he to look down upon the courts +from the galleries of the Bicêtre. And yet in this +prison of Madrid were some of the most desperate characters in +Spain; ruffians who had committed acts of cruelty and atrocity +sufficient to make the flesh shudder. But gravity and +sedateness are the leading characteristics of the Spaniards, and +the very robber, except in those moments when he is engaged in +his occupation, and then no one is more sanguinary, pitiless, and +wolfishly eager for booty, is a being who can be courteous and +affable, and who takes pleasure in conducting himself with +sobriety and decorum.</p> +<p>Happily, perhaps, for me, that my acquaintance with the +ruffians of Spain commenced and ended in the towns about which I +wandered, and in the prisons into which I was cast for the +Gospel’s sake, and that, notwithstanding my long and +frequent journeys, I never came in contact with them on the road +or in the <i>despoblado</i>.</p> +<p>The most ill-conditioned being in the prison was a Frenchman, +though probably the most remarkable. <a +name="page150"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 150</span>He was +about sixty years of age, of the middle stature, but thin and +meagre, like most of his countrymen; he had a villanously formed +head, according to all the rules of craniology, and his features +were full of evil expression. He wore no hat, and his +clothes, though in appearance nearly new, were of the coarsest +description. He generally kept aloof from the rest, and +would stand for hours together leaning against the walls with his +arms folded, glaring sullenly on what was passing before +him. He was not one of the professed <i>valientes</i>, for +his age prevented his assuming so distinguished a character, and +yet all the rest appeared to hold him in a certain awe: perhaps +they feared his tongue, which he occasionally exerted in pouring +forth withering curses upon those who incurred his +displeasure. He spoke perfectly good Spanish, and to my +great surprise excellent Basque, in which he was in the habit of +conversing with Francisco, who, lolling from the window of my +apartment, would exchange jests and witticisms with the prisoners +in the court below, with whom he was a great favourite.</p> +<p>One day when I was in the <i>patio</i>, to which I had free +admission whenever I pleased, by permission of the +<i>alcayde</i>, I went up to the Frenchman, who stood in his +usual posture, leaning against the wall, and offered him a +cigar. I do not smoke myself, but it will never do to mix +among the lower classes of Spain unless you have a cigar to +present occasionally. The man glared at me ferociously for +a moment, and appeared to be on the point of refusing my offer +with perhaps a hideous execration. I repeated it, however, +pressing my hand against my heart, whereupon suddenly the grim +features relaxed, and with a genuine French grimace, and a low +bow, he accepted the cigar, <a name="page151"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 151</span>exclaiming, “<i>Ah</i>, +<i>monsieur</i>, <i>pardon</i>, <i>mais c’est faire trop +d’honneur à un pauvre diable comme +moi</i>.”</p> +<p>“Not at all,” said I, “we are both +fellow-prisoners in a foreign land, and being so we ought to +countenance each other. I hope that whenever I have need of +your co-operation in this prison you will afford it +me.”</p> +<p>“<i>Ah</i>, <i>monsieur</i>,” exclaimed the +Frenchman in rapture, “<i>vous avez bien raison</i>; <i>il +faut que les étrangers se donnent la main dans ce . . . +pays de barbares</i>. <i>Tenez</i>,” he added in a +whisper, “if you have any plan for escaping, and require my +assistance, I have an arm and a knife at your service: you may +trust me, and that is more than you could any of these +<i>sacrées gens ici</i>,” glancing fiercely round at +his fellow-prisoners.</p> +<p>“You appear to be no friend to Spain and the +Spaniards,” said I. “I conclude that you have +experienced injustice at their hands. For what have they +immured you in this place?”</p> +<p>“<i>Pour rien du tout</i>, <i>c’est à dire +pour une bagatelle</i>; but what can you expect from such +animals? For what are you imprisoned? Did I not hear +say for gypsyism and sorcery?”</p> +<p>“Perhaps you are here for your opinions?”</p> +<p>“<i>Ah</i>, <i>mon Dieu</i>, <i>non</i>; <i>je ne suis +pas homme à semblable betise</i>. I have no +opinions. <i>Je faisois . . . mais ce n’importe</i>; +<i>je me trouve ici</i>, <i>où je crève de +faim</i>.”</p> +<p>“I am sorry to see a brave man in such a distressed +condition,” said I; “have you nothing to subsist upon +beyond the prison allowance? Have you no +friends?”</p> +<p>“Friends in this country? You mock me; here one +has no friends, unless one buy them. I am bursting with +hunger. Since I have been here I have sold the <a +name="page152"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 152</span>clothes off +my back, that I might eat, for the prison allowance will not +support nature, and of half of that we are robbed by the +<i>Batu</i>, as they called the barbarian of a governor. +<i>Les haillons</i> which now cover me were given by two or three +devotees who sometimes visit here. I would sell them if +they would fetch aught. I have not a <i>sou</i>, and for +want of a few crowns I shall be garroted within a month unless I +can escape, though, as I told you before, I have done nothing, a +mere bagatelle; but the worst crimes in Spain are poverty and +misery.”</p> +<p>“I have heard you speak Basque; are you from French +Biscay?”</p> +<p>“I am from Bordeaux, <i>monsieur</i>; but I have lived +much on the Landes and in Biscay, <i>travaillant à mon +métier</i>. I see by your look that you wish to know +my history. I shall not tell it you. It contains +nothing that is remarkable. See, I have smoked out your +cigar; you may give me another, and add a dollar if you please, +<i>nous sommes crevés ici de faim</i>. I would not +say as much to a Spaniard, but I have a respect for your +countrymen; I know much of them; I have met them at Maida and the +other place.” <a name="citation152"></a><a +href="#footnote152" class="citation">[152]</a></p> +<p>“Nothing remarkable in his history!” Why, or +I greatly err, one chapter of his life, had it been written, +would have unfolded more of the wild and wonderful than fifty +volumes of what are in general called adventures and hairbreadth +escapes by land and sea. A soldier! what a tale could that +man have told of marches and retreats, of battles lost and won, +towns sacked, convents plundered! perhaps he had seen the flames +of Moscow ascending to the clouds, and had “tried his +strength with nature in the wintry desert,” <a +name="page153"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 153</span>pelted by +the snowstorm, and bitten by the tremendous cold of Russia. +And what could he mean by plying his trade in Biscay and Landes, +but that he had been a robber in those wild regions, of which the +latter is more infamous for brigandage and crime than any other +part of the French territory? Nothing remarkable in his +history! then what history in the world contains aught that is +remarkable?</p> +<p>I gave him the cigar and dollar. He received them, and +then once more folding his arms, leaned back against the wall, +and appeared to sink gradually into one of his reveries. I +looked him in the face and spoke to him, but he did not seem +either to hear or see me. His mind was perhaps wandering in +that dreadful valley of the shadow, into which the children of +earth, whilst living, occasionally find their way: that dreadful +region where there is no water, where hope dwelleth not, where +nothing lives but the undying worm. This valley is the +facsimile of hell, and he who has entered it has experienced here +on earth for a time what the spirits of the condemned are doomed +to suffer through ages without end.</p> +<p>He was executed about a month from this time. The +bagatelle for which he was confined was robbery and murder by the +following strange device. In concert with two others, he +hired a large house in an unfrequented part of the town, to which +place he would order tradesmen to convey valuable articles, which +were to be paid for on delivery; those who attended paid for +their credulity with the loss of their lives and property. +Two or three had fallen into the snare. I wished much to +have had some private conversation with this desperate man, and +in consequence begged of the <i>alcayde</i> to allow him to dine +with me in my <a name="page154"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +154</span>own apartment; whereupon Monsieur Bassompierre, for so +I will take the liberty of calling the governor, his real name +having escaped my memory, took off his hat, and, with his usual +smile and bow, replied in purest Castilian, “English +cavalier, and I hope I may add friend, pardon me, that it is +quite out of my power to gratify your request, founded, I have no +doubt, on the most admirable sentiments of philosophy. Any +of the other gentlemen beneath my care shall, at any time you +desire it, be permitted to wait upon you in your apartment. +I will even go so far as to cause their irons, if irons they +wear, to be knocked off in order that they may partake of your +refection with that comfort which is seemly and convenient: but +to the gentleman in question I must object; he is the most evil +disposed of the whole of this family, and would most assuredly +breed a <i>funcion</i> either in your apartment or in the +corridor, by an attempt to escape. Cavalier, <i>me +pesa</i>, <a name="citation154"></a><a href="#footnote154" +class="citation">[154]</a> but I cannot accede to your +request. But with respect to any other gentleman, I shall +be most happy, even Balseiro, who, though strange things are told +of him, still knows how to comport himself, and in whose +behaviour there is something both of formality and politeness, +shall this day share your hospitality if you desire it, +cavalier.”</p> +<p>Of Balseiro I have already had occasion to speak in the former +part of this narrative. He was now confined in an upper +story of the prison, in a strong room, with several other +malefactors. He had been found guilty of aiding and +assisting one Pepe Candelas, a thief of no inconsiderable renown, +in a desperate robbery perpetrated in open daylight upon no less +a personage than the queen’s milliner, a Frenchwoman, <a +name="page155"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 155</span>whom they +bound in her own shop, from which they took goods and money to +the amount of five or six thousand dollars. Candelas had +already expiated his crime on the scaffold, but Balseiro, who was +said to be by far the worst ruffian of the two, had by dint of +money, an ally which his comrade did not possess, contrived to +save his own life; the punishment of death, to which he was +originally sentenced, having been commuted to twenty years’ +hard labour in the <i>presidio</i> of Malaga. I visited +this worthy, and conversed with him for some time through the +wicket of the dungeon. He recognized me, and reminded me of +the victory which I had once obtained over him, in the trial of +our respective skill in the crabbed <i>Gitano</i>, at which +Sevilla the bull-fighter was umpire.</p> +<p>Upon my telling him that I was sorry to see him in such a +situation, he replied that it was an affair of no manner of +consequence, as within six weeks he should be conducted to the +<i>presidio</i>, from which, with the assistance of a few ounces +distributed amongst the guards, he could at any time +escape. “But whither would you flee?” I +demanded. “Can I not flee to the land of the +Moors,” replied Balseiro, “or to the English in the +camp of Gibraltar; or, if I prefer it, cannot I return to this +<i>foro</i>, and live as I have hitherto done, <i>choring</i> the +<i>gachos</i>; <a name="citation155"></a><a href="#footnote155" +class="citation">[155]</a> what is to hinder me? Madrid is +large, and Balseiro has plenty of friends, especially among the +<i>lumias</i>,” he added, with a smile. I spoke to +him of his ill-fated accomplice Candelas; whereupon his face +assumed a horrible expression. “I hope he is in +torment,” exclaimed the robber. The friendship of the +unrighteous is never of long duration; the two worthies had, it +seems, <a name="page156"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +156</span>quarrelled in prison; Candelas having accused the other +of bad faith and an undue appropriation to his own use of the +<i>corpus delicti</i> in various robberies which they had +committed in company.</p> +<p>I cannot refrain from relating the subsequent history of this +Balseiro. Shortly after my own liberation, too impatient to +wait until the <i>presidio</i> should afford him a chance of +regaining his liberty, he, in company with some other convicts, +broke through the roof of the prison and escaped. He +instantly resumed his former habits, committing several daring +robberies, both within and without the walls of Madrid. I +now come to his last, I may call it his master crime, a singular +piece of atrocious villany. Dissatisfied with the proceeds +of street robbery and house-breaking, he determined upon a bold +stroke, by which he hoped to acquire money sufficient to support +him in some foreign land in luxury and splendour.</p> +<p>There was a certain comptroller of the queen’s +household, by name Gabiria, <a name="citation156"></a><a +href="#footnote156" class="citation">[156]</a> a Basque by birth, +and a man of immense possessions: this individual had two sons, +handsome boys, between twelve and fourteen years of age, whom I +had frequently seen, and indeed conversed with, in my walks on +the bank of the Manzanares, which was their favourite +promenade. These children, at the time of which I am +speaking, were receiving their education at a certain seminary in +Madrid. Balseiro, being well acquainted with the +father’s affection for his children, determined to make it +subservient to his own rapacity. He formed a plan, which +was neither more nor less than to steal the children, and not to +restore them to their parent until he had received an enormous +ransom. This plan was <a name="page157"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 157</span>partly carried into execution: two +associates of Balseiro, well dressed, drove up to the door of the +seminary where the children were, and, by means of a forged +letter, purporting to be written by the father, induced the +schoolmaster to permit the boys to accompany them for a country +jaunt, as they pretended. About five leagues from Madrid +Balseiro had a cave, in a wild unfrequented spot between the +Escurial and a village called Torre Lodones: to this cave the +children were conducted, where they remained in durance under the +custody of the two accomplices; Balseiro in the mean time +remaining in Madrid for the purpose of conducting negociations +with the father. The father, however, was a man of +considerable energy, and instead of acceding to the terms of the +ruffian, communicated in a letter, instantly took the most +vigorous measures for the recovery of his children. Horse +and foot were sent out to scour the country, and in less than a +week the children were found near the cave, having been abandoned +by their keepers, who had taken fright on hearing of the decided +measures which had been resorted to; they were, however, speedily +arrested and identified by the boys as their ravishers. +Balseiro, perceiving that Madrid was becoming too hot to hold +him, attempted to escape, but whether to the camp of Gibraltar or +to the land of the Moor, I know not; he was recognized, however, +at a village in the neighbourhood of Madrid, and being +apprehended, was forthwith conducted to the capital, where he +shortly after terminated his existence on the scaffold, with his +two associates; Gabiria and his children being present at the +ghastly scene, which they surveyed from a chariot at their +ease.</p> +<p>Such was the end of Balseiro, of whom I should <a +name="page158"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 158</span>certainly +not have said so much, but for the affair of the crabbed +<i>Gitano</i>. Poor wretch! he acquired that species of +immortality which is the object of the aspirations of many a +Spanish thief, whilst vapouring about in the <i>patio</i>, +dressed in the snowy linen; the rape of the children of Gabiria +made him at once the pet of the fraternity. A celebrated +robber, with whom I was subsequently imprisoned at Seville, spoke +his eulogy in the following manner:—</p> +<p>“Balseiro was a very good subject, and an honest +man. He was the head of our family, <i>Don Jorge</i>; we +shall never see his like again; pity that he did not sack the +<i>parné</i>, and escape to the camp of the Moor, <i>Don +Jorge</i>.”</p> +<h2><a name="page159"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +159</span>CHAPTER XLI.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Maria Diaz—Priestly +Vituperation—Antonio’s Visit—Antonio at +Service—A Scene—Benedict Mol—Wandering in +Spain—The Four Evangelien.</p> +<p>“Well,” said I to Maria Diaz, on the third morning +after my imprisonment, “what do the people of Madrid say to +this affair of mine?”</p> +<p>“I do not know what the people of Madrid in general say +about it, probably they do not take much interest in it; indeed, +imprisonments at the present time are such common matters, that +people seem to be quite indifferent to them; the priests, +however, are in no slight commotion, and confess that they have +committed an imprudent thing in causing you to be arrested by +their friend the <i>corregidor</i> of Madrid.”</p> +<p>“How is that?” I inquired. “Are they +afraid that their friend will be punished?”</p> +<p> “Not so, <i>señor</i>,” replied +Maria; “slight grief indeed would it cause them, however +great the trouble in which he had involved himself on their +account; for this description of people have no affection, and +would not care if all their friends were hanged, provided they +themselves escaped. But they say that they have acted +imprudently in sending you to prison, inasmuch as by so doing +they have given you an <a name="page160"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 160</span>opportunity of carrying a plan of +yours into execution. ‘This fellow is a +<i>bribon</i>,’ say they, ‘and has commenced +tampering with the prisoners; they have taught him their +language, which he already speaks as well as if he were a son of +the prison. As soon as he comes out he will publish a +thieves’ Gospel, which will be a still more dangerous +affair than the gypsy one, for the gypsies are few, but the +thieves! woe is us; we shall all be Lutheranized. What +infamy, what rascality! It was a trick of his own. He +was always eager to get into prison, and now, in evil hour, we +have sent him there, <i>el bribonazo</i>; there will be no safety +for Spain until he is hanged; he ought to be sent to the four +hells, where at his leisure he might translate his fatal gospels +into the language of the demons.’”</p> +<p>“I but said three words to the <i>alcayde</i> of the +prison,” said I, “relative to the jargon used by the +children of the prison.”</p> +<p>“Three words! <i>Don Jorge</i>; and what may not +be made out of three words? You have lived amongst us to +little purpose if you think we require more than three words to +build a system with. Those three words about the thieves +and their tongue were quite sufficient to cause it to be reported +throughout Madrid that you had tampered with the thieves, had +learnt their language, and had written a book which was to +overturn Spain, open to the English the gates of Cadiz, give +Mendizabal all the church plate and jewels, and to Don Martin +Luther the archiepiscopal palace of Toledo.”</p> +<p>Late in the afternoon of rather a gloomy day, as I was sitting +in the apartment which the <i>alcayde</i> had allotted me, I +heard a rap at the door. “Who is <a +name="page161"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +161</span>that?” I exclaimed. “<i>C’est +moi</i>, <i>mon maître</i>,” cried a well-known +voice, and presently in walked Antonio Buchini, dressed in the +same style as when I first introduced him to the reader, namely, +in a handsome but rather faded French surtout, vest, and +pantaloons, with a diminutive hat in one hand, and holding in the +other a long and slender cane.</p> +<p>“<i>Bon jour</i>, <i>mon maître</i>,” said +the Greek; then, glancing around the apartment, he continued, +“I am glad to find you so well lodged. If I remember +right, <i>mon maître</i>, we have slept in worse places +during our wanderings in Galicia and Castile.”</p> +<p>“You are quite right, Antonio,” I replied; +“I am very comfortable. Well, this is kind of you to +visit your ancient master, more especially now he is in the +toils; I hope, however, that by so doing you will not offend your +present employer. His dinner hour must be at hand; why are +you not in the kitchen?”</p> +<p>“Of what employer are you speaking, <i>mon +maître</i>?” demanded Antonio.</p> +<p>“Of whom should I speak but Count ---, to serve whom you +abandoned me, being tempted by an offer of a monthly salary less +by four dollars than that which I was giving you?”</p> +<p>“Your worship brings an affair to my remembrance which I +had long since forgotten. I have at present no other master +than yourself, <i>Monsieur Georges</i>, for I shall always +consider you as my master, though I may not enjoy the felicity of +waiting upon you.”</p> +<p>“You have left the Count, then,” said I, +“after remaining three days in the house, according to your +usual practice.”</p> +<p>“Not three hours, <i>mon maître</i>,” +replied Antonio; “but I will tell you the +circumstances. Soon after <a name="page162"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 162</span>I left you I repaired to the house +of <i>Monsieur le Comte</i>; I entered the kitchen, and looked +about me. I cannot say that I had much reason to be +dissatisfied with what I saw: the kitchen was large and +commodious, and everything appeared neat and in its proper place, +and the domestics civil and courteous; yet, I know not how it +was, the idea at once rushed into my mind that the house was by +no means suited to me, and that I was not destined to stay there +long; so, hanging my haversack upon a nail, and sitting down on +the dresser, I commenced singing a Greek song, as I am in the +habit of doing when dissatisfied. The domestics came about +me, asking questions. I made them no answer, however, and +continued singing till the hour for preparing the dinner drew +nigh, when I suddenly sprang on the floor, and was not long in +thrusting them all out of the kitchen, telling them that they had +no business there at such a season. I then at once entered +upon my functions. I exerted myself, <i>mon +maître</i>—I exerted myself, and was preparing a +repast which would have done me honour; there was, indeed, some +company expected that day, and I therefore determined to show my +employer that nothing was beyond the capacity of his Greek +cook. <i>Eh bien</i>, <i>mon maître</i>, all was +going on remarkably well, and I felt almost reconciled to my new +situation, when who should rush into the kitchen but <i>le fils +de la maison</i>, my young master, an ugly urchin of thirteen +years or thereabouts. He bore in his hand a manchet of +bread, which, after prying about for a moment, he proceeded to +dip in the pan where some delicate woodcocks were in the course +of preparation. You know, <i>mon maître</i>, how +sensitive I am on certain points, for I am no Spaniard, but a +Greek, and have <a name="page163"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +163</span>principles of honour. Without a moment’s +hesitation I took my young master by the shoulders, and hurrying +him to the door, dismissed him in the manner which he +deserved. Squalling loudly, he hurried away to the upper +part of the house. I continued my labours, but ere three +minutes had elapsed, I heard a dreadful confusion above stairs, +<i>on faisoit une horrible tintamarre</i>, and I could +occasionally distinguish oaths and execrations. Presently +doors were flung open, and there was an awful rushing downstairs, +a gallopade. It was my lord the count, his lady, and my +young master, followed by a regular bevy of women and <i>filles +de chambre</i>. Far in advance of all, however, was my lord +with a drawn sword in his hand, shouting, ‘Where is the +wretch who has dishonoured my son, where is he? He shall +die forthwith.’ I know not how it was, <i>mon +maître</i>, but I just then chanced to spill a large bowl +of <i>garbanzos</i>, which were intended for the <i>puchera</i> +of the following day. They were uncooked, and were as hard +as marbles; these I dashed upon the floor, and the greater part +of them fell just about the doorway. <i>Eh bien</i>, <i>mon +maître</i>, in another moment in bounded the count, his +eyes sparkling like coals, and, as I have already said, with a +rapier in his hand. ‘<i>Tenez</i>, <i>gueux +enragé</i>,’ he screamed, making a desperate lunge +at me; but ere the words were out of his mouth, his foot slipping +on the pease, he fell forward with great violence at his full +length, and his weapon flew out of his hand, <i>comme une +flêche</i>. You should have heard the outcry which +ensued—there was a terrible confusion: the count lay upon +the floor to all appearance stunned. I took no notice, +however, continuing busily employed. They at last raised +him up, and assisted him till he <a name="page164"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 164</span>came to himself, though very pale +and much shaken. He asked for his sword: all eyes were now +turned upon me, and I saw that a general attack was +meditated. Suddenly I took a large <i>casserole</i> from +the fire in which various eggs were frying; this I held out at +arm’s length, peering at it along my arm as if I were +curiously inspecting it, my right foot advanced and the other +thrown back as far as possible. All stood still, imagining, +doubtless, that I was about to perform some grand operation, and +so I was: for suddenly the sinister leg advancing, with one rapid +<i>coup de pied</i>, I sent the <i>casserole</i> and its contents +flying over my head, so that they struck the wall far behind +me. This was to let them know that I had broken my staff +and had shaken the dust off my feet; so casting upon the count +the peculiar glance of the Sceirote cooks when they feel +themselves insulted, and extending my mouth on either side nearly +as far as the ears, I took down my haversack and departed, +singing as I went the song of the ancient Demos, who, when dying, +asked for his supper, and water wherewith to lave his +hands—</p> +<blockquote><p>Ό ἤλιος +ἐβασίλευε, +κἰ ὁ Δημος +διατάζει,<br /> +Σύρτε, +παιδιά μου, +’σ τὸ νερὸν +ψωμὶ νὰ φάτ' +ὰπόψε. <a name="citation164"></a><a +href="#footnote164" class="citation">[164]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>And in this manner, <i>mon maître</i>, I left the house +of the Count of ---.”</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—And a fine account you have given of +yourself; by your own confession, your behaviour was most +atrocious. Were it not for the many marks of courage and +fidelity which you have exhibited in my service, I would from +this moment hold no further communication with you.</p> +<p><a name="page165"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +165</span><i>Antonio</i>.—<i>Mais qu’est ce que vous +voudriez</i>, <i>mon maître</i>? Am I not a Greek, +full of honour and sensibility? Would you have the cooks of +Sceira and Stambul submit to be insulted here in Spain by the +sons of counts rushing into the temple with manchets of +bread? <i>Non</i>, <i>non</i>, <i>mon maître</i>, you +are too noble to require that, and what is more, <i>too +just</i>. But we will talk of other things. <i>Mon +maître</i>, I came not alone, there is one now waiting in +the corridor anxious to speak to you.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—Who is it?</p> +<p><i>Antonio</i>.—One whom you have met, <i>mon +maître</i>, in various and strange places.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—But who is it?</p> +<p><i>Antonio</i>.—One who will come to a strange end, +<i>for so it is written</i>. The most extraordinary of all +the Swiss, he of Saint James—<i>Der Schatz Gräber</i>. +<a name="citation165"></a><a href="#footnote165" +class="citation">[165]</a></p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—Not Benedict Mol?</p> +<p>“<i>Yaw</i>, <i>mein lieber Herr</i>,” said +Benedict, pushing open the door which stood ajar; “it is +myself. I met <i>Herr Anton</i> in the street, and hearing +that you were in this place, I came with him to visit +you.”</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—And in the name of all that is singular, +how is it that I see you in Madrid again? I thought that by +this time you were returned to your own country.</p> +<p><i>Benedict</i>.—Fear not, <i>lieber Herr</i>, I shall +return thither in good time; but not on foot, but with mules and +coach. The <i>Schatz</i> is still yonder, waiting to be dug +up, and now I have better hope than ever; plenty of friends, +plenty of money. See you not how I am dressed, <i>lieber +Herr</i>?</p> +<p>And verily his habiliments were of a much more <a +name="page166"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 166</span>respectable +appearance than any which he had sported on former +occasions. His coat and pantaloons, which were of light +green, were nearly new. On his head he still wore an +Andalusian hat, but the present one was neither old nor shabby, +but fresh and glossy, and of immense altitude of cone; whilst in +his hand, instead of the ragged staff which I had observed at +Saint James and Oviedo, he now carried a huge bamboo rattan, +surmounted by the grim head of either a bear or lion, curiously +cut out of pewter.</p> +<p>“You have all the appearance of a treasure-seeker +returned from a successful expedition,” I exclaimed.</p> +<p>“Or rather,” interrupted Antonio, “of one +who has ceased to trade on his own bottom, and now goes seeking +treasures at the cost and expense of others.”</p> +<p>I questioned the Swiss minutely concerning his adventures +since I last saw him, when I left him at Oviedo to pursue my +route to Santander. From his answers I gathered that he had +followed me to the latter place; he was, however, a long time in +performing the journey, being weak from hunger and +privation. At Santander he could hear no tidings of me, and +by this time the trifle which he had received from me was +completely exhausted. He now thought of making his way into +France, but was afraid to venture through the disturbed +provinces, lest he should fall into the hands of the Carlists, +who he conceived might shoot him as a spy. No one relieving +him at Santander, he departed and begged his way till he found +himself in some part of Aragon, but where he scarcely knew. +“My misery was so great,” said Benedict, “that +I nearly lost my senses. Oh, the horror of wandering about +the savage hills and wide plains of Spain, without money and +without hope! Sometimes I became <a +name="page167"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 167</span>desperate, +when I found myself amongst rocks and <i>barrancos</i>, perhaps +after having tasted no food from sunrise to sunset; and then I +would raise my staff towards the sky and shake it, crying, +<i>Lieber Herr Gott</i>, <i>ach lieber Herr Gott</i>, you must +help me now or never; if you tarry I am lost; you must help me +now, now! And once, when I was raving in this manner, +methought I heard a voice—nay, I am sure I heard +it—sounding from the hollow of a rock, clear and strong; +and it cried, ‘<i>Der Schatz</i>, <i>der Schatz</i>, it is +not yet dug up; to Madrid, to Madrid. The way to the +<i>Schatz</i> is through Madrid.’ And then the +thought of the <i>Schatz</i> once more rushed into my mind, and I +reflected how happy I might be, could I but dig up the +<i>Schatz</i>. No more begging then; no more wandering +amidst horrid mountains and deserts; so I brandished my staff, +and my body and my limbs became full of new and surprising +strength, and I strode forward, and was not long before I reached +the high road; and then I begged and bettled as I best could, +until I reached Madrid.”</p> +<p>“And what has befallen you since you reached +Madrid?” I inquired. “Did you find the treasure +in the streets?”</p> +<p>On a sudden Benedict became reserved and taciturn, which the +more surprised me, as, up to the present moment, he had at all +times been remarkably communicative with respect to his affairs +and prospects. From what I could learn from his broken +hints and innuendos, it appeared that, since his arrival at +Madrid, he had fallen into the hands of certain people who had +treated him with kindness, and provided him both with money and +clothes; not from disinterested motives, however, but having an +eye to the treasure. “They <a +name="page168"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 168</span>expect +great things from me,” said the Swiss; “and perhaps, +after all, it would have been more profitable to have dug up the +treasure without their assistance, always provided that were +possible.” Who his new friends were he either knew +not or would not tell me, save that they were people in +power. He said something about Queen Christina and an oath +which he had taken in the presence of a bishop on the crucifix +and the four <i>Evangelien</i>. I thought that his head was +turned, and forbore questioning. Just before taking his +departure, he observed, “<i>Lieber Herr</i>, pardon me for +not being quite frank towards you, to whom I owe so much, but I +dare not; I am not now my own man. It is, moreover, an evil +thing at all times to say a word about treasure before you have +secured it. There was once a man in my own country who dug +deep into the earth until he arrived at a copper vessel which +contained a <i>Schatz</i>. Seizing it by the handle, he +merely exclaimed in his transport, ‘I have it!’ that +was enough, however: down sank the kettle, though the handle +remained in his grasp. That was all he ever got for his +trouble and digging. Farewell, <i>lieber Herr</i>, I shall +speedily be sent back to Saint James to dig up the <i>Schatz</i>; +but I will visit you ere I go—farewell.”</p> +<h2><a name="page169"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +169</span>CHAPTER XLII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Liberation from Prison—The +Apology—Human Nature—The Greek’s +Return—Church of Rome—Light of +Scripture—Archbishop of Toledo—An +Interview—Stones of Price—A Resolution—The +Foreign Language—Benedict’s Farewell—Treasure +Hunt at Compostella—Truth and Fiction.</p> +<p>I remained about three weeks in the prison of Madrid, and then +left it. If I had possessed any pride, or harboured any +rancour against the party who had consigned me to durance, the +manner in which I was restored to liberty would no doubt have +been highly gratifying to those evil passions; the government +having acknowledged, by a document transmitted to Sir George, +that I had been incarcerated on insufficient grounds, and that no +stigma attached itself to me from the imprisonment I had +undergone; at the same time agreeing to defray all the expenses +to which I had been subjected throughout the progress of this +affair.</p> +<p>It moreover expressed its willingness to dismiss the +individual owing to whose information I had been first arrested, +namely, the <i>corchete</i>, or police officer, who had visited +me in my apartments in the Calle de Santiago, and behaved himself +in the manner which I have described in a former chapter. I +declined, however, to avail myself of this condescension of the +government, more especially as I was informed that the <a +name="page170"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 170</span>individual +in question had a wife and family, who, if he were disgraced, +would be at once reduced to want. I moreover considered +that, in what he had done and said, he had probably only obeyed +some private orders which he had received; I therefore freely +forgave him, and if he does not retain his situation at the +present moment, it is certainly no fault of mine.</p> +<p>I likewise refused to accept any compensation for my expenses, +which were considerable. It is probable that many persons +in my situation would have acted very differently in this +respect, and I am far from saying that herein I acted discreetly +or laudably; but I was averse to receive money from people such +as those of which the Spanish Government was composed, people +whom I confess I heartily despised, and I was unwilling to afford +them an opportunity of saying that after they had imprisoned an +Englishman unjustly, and without a cause, he condescended to +receive money at their hands. In a word, I confess my own +weakness; I was willing that they should continue my debtors, and +have little doubt that they had not the slightest objection to +remain so: they kept their money, and probably laughed in their +sleeves at my want of common sense.</p> +<p>The heaviest loss which resulted from my confinement, and for +which no indemnification could be either offered or received, was +in the death of my affectionate and faithful Basque Francisco, +who, having attended me during the whole time of my imprisonment, +caught the pestilential typhus or gaol fever, which was then +raging in the Carcel de la Corte, of which he expired within a +few days subsequent to my liberation. <a +name="citation170"></a><a href="#footnote170" +class="citation">[170]</a> His death occurred late one +evening. The <a name="page171"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +171</span>next morning, as I was lying in bed ruminating on my +loss, and wondering of what nation my next servant would be, I +heard a noise which seemed to be that of a person employed +vigorously in cleaning boots or shoes, and at intervals a strange +discordant voice singing snatches of a song in some unknown +language: wondering who it could be, I rang the bell.</p> +<p>“Did you ring, <i>mon maître</i>?” said +Antonio, appearing at the door with one of his arms deeply buried +in a boot.</p> +<p>“I certainly did ring,” said I, “but I +scarcely expected that you would have answered the +summons.”</p> +<p>“<i>Mais pourquoi non</i>, <i>mon +maître</i>?” cried Antonio. “Who should +serve you now but myself? <i>N’est pas que le sieur +François est mort</i>? And did I not say, as soon as +I heard of his departure, I shall return to my functions <i>chez +mon maître</i>, <i>Monsieur Georges</i>?”</p> +<p>“I suppose you had no other employment, and on that +account you came.”</p> +<p>“<i>Au contraire</i>, <i>mon maître</i>,” +replied the Greek, “I had just engaged myself at the house +of the Duke of Frias, <a name="citation171"></a><a +href="#footnote171" class="citation">[171]</a> from whom I was to +receive ten dollars per month more than I shall accept from your +worship; but on hearing that you were without a domestic, I +forthwith told the duke, though it was late at night, that he +would not suit me; and here I am.”</p> +<p>“I shall not receive you in this manner,” said I; +“return to the duke, apologize for your behaviour, request +your dismission in a regular way; and then, if his grace is +willing to part with you, as will most probably be the case, I +shall be happy to avail myself of your services.”</p> +<p><a name="page172"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 172</span>It is +reasonable to expect that after having been subjected to an +imprisonment which my enemies themselves admitted to be unjust, I +should in future experience more liberal treatment at their hands +than that which they had hitherto adopted towards me. The +sole object of my ambition at this time was to procure toleration +for the sale of the Gospel in this unhappy and distracted +kingdom, and to have attained this end I would not only have +consented to twenty such imprisonments in succession as that +which I had undergone, but would gladly have sacrificed life +itself. I soon perceived, however, that I was likely to +gain nothing by my incarceration; on the contrary, I had become +an object of personal dislike to the government since the +termination of this affair, which it was probable I had never +been before; their pride and vanity were humbled by the +concessions which they had been obliged to make in order to avoid +a rupture with England. This dislike they were now +determined to gratify, by thwarting my views as much as +possible. I had an interview with Ofalia on the subject +uppermost in my mind; I found him morose and snappish. +“It will be for your interest to be still,” said he; +“beware! you have already thrown the whole <i>corte</i> +into confusion; beware, I repeat; another time you may not escape +so easily.” “Perhaps not,” I replied, +“and perhaps I do not wish it; it is a pleasant thing to be +persecuted for the Gospel’s sake. I now take the +liberty of inquiring whether, if I attempt to circulate the Word +of God, I am to be interrupted.” “Of +course,” exclaimed Ofalia; “the Church forbids such +circulation.” “I shall make the attempt, +however,” I exclaimed. “Do you mean what you +say?” demanded Ofalia, arching his eyebrows and elongating +his mouth. <a name="page173"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +173</span>“Yes,” I continued, “I shall make the +attempt in every village in Spain to which I can +penetrate.”</p> +<p>Throughout my residence in Spain the clergy were the party +from which I experienced the strongest opposition; and it was at +their instigation that the government originally adopted those +measures which prevented any extensive circulation of the sacred +volume through the land. I shall not detain the course of +my narrative with reflections as to the state of a Church, which, +though it pretends to be founded on Scripture, would yet keep the +light of Scripture from all mankind, if possible. But Rome +is fully aware that she is not a Christian Church, and having no +desire to become so, she acts prudently in keeping from the eyes +of her followers the page which would reveal to them the truths +of Christianity. Her agents and minions throughout Spain +exerted themselves to the utmost to render my humble labours +abortive, and to vilify the work which I was attempting to +disseminate. All the ignorant and fanatical clergy (the +great majority) were opposed to it, and all those who were +anxious to keep on good terms with the court of Rome were loud in +their cry against it. There was, however, one section of +the clergy, a small one, it is true, rather favourably disposed +towards the circulation of the Gospel, though by no means +inclined to make any particular sacrifice for the accomplishment +of such an end: these were such as professed liberalism, which is +supposed to mean a disposition to adopt any reform, both in civil +and Church matters, which may be deemed conducive to the weal of +the country. Not a few amongst the Spanish clergy were +supporters of this principle, or at least declared themselves so; +some doubtless for their own advancement, hoping to turn <a +name="page174"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 174</span>the spirit +of the times to their own personal profit: others, it is to be +hoped, from conviction, and a pure love of the principle +itself. Amongst these were to be found, at the time of +which I am speaking, several bishops. It is worthy of +remark, however, that of all these not one but owed his office, +not to the Pope, who disowned them one and all, but to the Queen +Regent, the professed head of liberalism throughout all +Spain. It is not, therefore, surprising that men thus +circumstanced should feel rather disposed than not to countenance +any measure or scheme at all calculated to favour the advancement +of liberalism; and surely such an one was the circulation of the +Scriptures. I derived but little assistance from their good +will, however, supposing that they entertained some, as they +never took any decided stand, nor lifted up their voices in a +bold and positive manner, denouncing the conduct of those who +would withhold the light of Scripture from the world. At +one time I hoped by their instrumentality to accomplish much in +Spain in the Gospel cause; but I was soon undeceived, and became +convinced that reliance on what they would effect was like +placing the hand on a staff of reed, which will only lacerate the +flesh. More than once some of them sent messages to me, +expressive of their esteem, and assuring me how much the cause of +the Gospel was dear to their hearts. I even received an +intimation that a visit from me would be agreeable to the +Archbishop of Toledo, the Primate of Spain.</p> +<p>Of this personage I can say but little, his early history +being entirely unknown to me. At the death of Ferdinand, I +believe, he was Bishop of Mallorca, a small insignificant see, of +very scanty revenues, which perhaps he had no objection to +exchange for one <a name="page175"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +175</span>more wealthy. It is probable, however, that had +he proved a devoted servant of the Pope, and consequently a +supporter of legitimacy, he would have continued to the day of +his death to fill the episcopal chair of Mallorca; but he was +said to be a liberal, and the Queen Regent thought fit to bestow +upon him the dignity of Archbishop of Toledo, by which he became +the head of the Spanish Church. The Pope, it is true, had +refused to ratify the nomination, on which account all good +Catholics were still bound to consider him as Bishop of Mallorca, +and not as Primate of Spain. He, however, received the +revenues belonging to the see, which, though only a shadow of +what they originally were, were still considerable, and lived in +the primate’s palace at Madrid, so that if he were not +archbishop <i>de jure</i>, he was what many people would have +considered much better, archbishop <i>de facto</i>. <a +name="citation175"></a><a href="#footnote175" +class="citation">[175]</a></p> +<p>Hearing that this personage was a personal friend of Ofalia, +who was said to entertain a very high regard for him, I +determined upon paying him a visit, and accordingly one morning +betook myself to the palace in which he resided. I +experienced no difficulty in obtaining an interview, being +forthwith conducted to his presence by a common kind of footman, +an Asturian, I believe, whom I found seated on a stone bench in +the entrance-hall. When I was introduced, the archbishop +was alone, seated behind a table in a large apartment, a kind of +drawing-room; he was plainly dressed, in a black cassock and +silken cap; <a name="page176"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +176</span>on his finger, however, glittered a superb amethyst, +the lustre of which was truly dazzling. He rose for a +moment as I advanced, and motioned me to a chair with his +hand. He might be about sixty years of age; his figure was +very tall, but he stooped considerably, evidently from +feebleness, and the pallid hue of ill-health overspread his +emaciated features. When he had reseated himself, he +dropped his head, and appeared to be looking on the table before +him.</p> +<p>“I suppose your lordship knows who I am?” said I, +at last breaking silence.</p> +<p>The archbishop bent his head towards the right shoulder, in a +somewhat equivocal manner, but said nothing.</p> +<p>“I am he whom the <i>Manolos</i> of Madrid call <i>Don +Jorgito el Ingles</i>; I am just come out of prison, whither I +was sent for circulating my Lord’s Gospel in this kingdom +of Spain.”</p> +<p>The archbishop made the same equivocal motion with his head, +but still said nothing.</p> +<p>“I was informed that your lordship was desirous of +seeing me, and on that account I have paid you this +visit.”</p> +<p>“I did not send for you,” said the archbishop, +suddenly, raising his head with a startled look.</p> +<p>“Perhaps not: I was, however, given to understand that +my presence would be agreeable; but as that does not seem to be +the case, I will leave.”</p> +<p>“Since you are come, I am very glad to see +you.”</p> +<p>“I am very glad to hear it,” said I, reseating +myself; “and since I am here, we may as well talk of an +all-important matter, the circulation of the Scripture. +Does your lordship see any way by which an end so desirable might +be brought about?”</p> +<p><a name="page177"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +177</span>“No,” said the archbishop, faintly.</p> +<p>“Does not your lordship think that a knowledge of the +Scripture would work inestimable benefit in these +realms?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know.”</p> +<p>“Is it probable that the government may be induced to +consent to the circulation?”</p> +<p>“How should I know?” and the archbishop looked me +in the face.</p> +<p>I looked in the face of the archbishop; there was an +expression of helplessness in it, which almost amounted to +dotage. “Dear me,” thought I, “whom have +I come to on an errand like mine? Poor man! you are not +fitted to play the part of Martin Luther, and least of all in +Spain. I wonder why your friends selected you to be +Archbishop of Toledo; they thought perhaps that you would do +neither good nor harm, and made choice of you, as they sometimes +do primates in my own country, for your incapacity. You do +not seem very happy in your present situation; no very easy stall +this of yours. You were more comfortable, I trow, when you +were the poor Bishop of Mallorca; could enjoy your <i>puchera</i> +then without fear that the salt would turn out sublimate. +No fear then of being smothered in your bed. A +<i>siesta</i> is a pleasant thing when one is not subject to be +disturbed by ‘the sudden fear.’ I wonder +whether they have poisoned you already,” I continued, half +aloud, as I kept my eyes fixed on his countenance, which +methought was becoming ghastly.</p> +<p>“Did you speak, <i>Don Jorge</i>?” demanded the +archbishop.</p> +<p>“That is a fine brilliant on your lordship’s +hand,” said I.</p> +<p><a name="page178"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +178</span>“You are fond of brilliants, <i>Don +Jorge</i>,” said the archbishop, his features brightening +up; “<i>vaya</i>! so am I; they are pretty things. Do +you understand them?”</p> +<p>“I do,” said I, “and I never saw a finer +brilliant than your own, one excepted; it belonged to an +acquaintance of mine, a Tartar Khan. He did not bear it on +his finger, however; it stood in the frontlet of his horse, where +it shone like a star. He called it <i>Daoud Scharr</i>, +which, being interpreted, meaneth <i>light of war</i>.”</p> +<p>“<i>Vaya</i>!” said the archbishop, “how +very extraordinary! I am glad you are fond of brilliants, +<i>Don Jorge</i>. Speaking of horses, reminds me that I +have frequently seen you on horseback. <i>Vaya</i>! how you +ride! It is dangerous to be in your way.”</p> +<p>“Is your lordship fond of equestrian +exercise?”</p> +<p>“By no means, <i>Don Jorge</i>; I do not like +horses. It is not the practice of the Church to ride on +horseback. We prefer mules; they are the quieter +animals. I fear horses, they kick so violently.”</p> +<p>“The kick of a horse is death,” said I, “if +it touches a vital part. I am not, however, of your +lordship’s opinion with respect to mules: a good +<i>ginete</i> may retain his seat on a horse however vicious, but +a mule—<i>vaya</i>! when a false mule <i>tira por +detras</i>, <a name="citation178a"></a><a href="#footnote178a" +class="citation">[178a]</a> I do not believe that the Father of +the Church himself could keep the saddle a moment, however sharp +his bit.”</p> +<p>As I was going away, I said, “And with respect to the +Gospel, your lordship, what am I to understand?”</p> +<p>“<i>No sé</i>,” <a +name="citation178b"></a><a href="#footnote178b" +class="citation">[178b]</a> said the archbishop, again bending +his head towards the right shoulder, whilst his features resumed +their former vacant expression. And thus <a +name="page179"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 179</span>terminated +my interview with the Archbishop of Toledo.</p> +<p>“It appears to me,” said I to Maria Diaz, on +returning home; “it appears to me, <i>Marequita mia</i>, +that if the Gospel in Spain is to wait for toleration until these +liberal bishops and archbishops come forward boldly in its +behalf, it will have to tarry a considerable time.”</p> +<p>“I am much of your worship’s opinion,” +answered Maria; “a fine thing, truly, it would be to wait +till they exerted themselves in its behalf. <i>Ca</i>! <a +name="citation179a"></a><a href="#footnote179a" +class="citation">[179a]</a> the idea makes me smile. Was +your worship ever innocent enough to suppose that they cared one +tittle about the Gospel or its cause? <i>Vaya</i>! they are +true priests, and had only self-interest in view in their +advances to you. The Holy Father disowns them, and they +would now fain, by awaking his fears and jealousy, bring him to +some terms; but let him once acknowledge them, and see whether +they would admit you to their palaces or hold any intercourse +with you! ‘Forth with the fellow!’ they would +say; ‘<i>vaya</i>! is he not a Lutheran? Is he not an +enemy to the Church? <i>Á la horca</i>, <i>á +la horca</i>!’ <a name="citation179b"></a><a +href="#footnote179b" class="citation">[179b]</a> I know +this family better than you do, <i>Don Jorge</i>.”</p> +<p>“It is useless tarrying,” said I; “nothing, +however, can be done in Madrid. I cannot sell the work at +the <i>despacho</i>, and I have just received intelligence that +all the copies exposed for sale in the libraries in the different +parts of Spain which I have visited have been sequestrated by +order of the government. My resolution is taken: I shall +mount my horses, which are neighing in the stable, and betake +myself to the villages and plains of dusty Spain. <i>Al +campo</i>, <a name="page180"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +180</span><i>al campo</i>: <a name="citation180a"></a><a +href="#footnote180a" class="citation">[180a]</a> ‘Ride +forth, because of the word of righteousness, and thy right hand +shall show thee terrible things. <a name="citation180b"></a><a +href="#footnote180b" class="citation">[180b]</a> I will +ride forth, Maria.”</p> +<p>“Your worship can do no better; and allow me here to +tell you, that for every single book you might sell in a +<i>despacho</i> in the city, you may dispose of one hundred +amongst the villages, always provided you offer them cheap; for +in the country money is rather scant. <i>Vaya</i>! should I +not know? am I not a villager myself, a <i>villana</i> from the +Sagra? Ride forth, therefore: your horses are neighing in +the stall, as your worship says, and you might almost have added +that the <i>Señor</i> Antonio is neighing in the +house. He says he has nothing to do, on which account he is +once more dissatisfied and unsettled. He finds fault with +everything, but more particularly with myself. This morning +I saluted him, and he made me no reply, but twisted his mouth in +a manner very uncommon in this land of Spain.”</p> +<p>“A thought strikes me,” said I; “you have +mentioned the Sagra; why should not I commence my labours amongst +the villages of that district?”</p> +<p>“Your worship can do no better,” replied Maria; +“the harvest is just over there, and you will find the +people comparatively unemployed, with leisure to attend and +listen to you; and if you follow my advice, you will establish +yourself at Villa Seca, in the house of my fathers, where at +present lives my lord and husband. Go, therefore, to Villa +Seca in the first place, and from thence you can sally forth with +the <i>Señor</i> Antonio upon your excursions. +Peradventure, <a name="page181"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +181</span>my husband will accompany you; and if so, you will find +him highly useful. The people of Villa Seca are civil and +courteous, your worship; when they address a foreigner, they +speak to him at the top of their voice and in +Gallegan.”</p> +<p>“In Gallegan!” I exclaimed.</p> +<p>“They all understand a few words of Gallegan, which they +have acquired from the mountaineers, who occasionally assist them +in cutting the harvest, and as Gallegan is the only foreign +language they know, they deem it but polite to address a +foreigner in that tongue. <i>Vaya</i>! it is not a bad +village, that of Villa Seca, nor are the people; the only +ill-conditioned person living there is his reverence the +curate.”</p> +<p>I was not long in making preparations for my enterprise. +A considerable stock of Testaments were sent forward by an +<i>arriero</i>, I myself followed the next day. Before my +departure, however, I received a visit from Benedict Mol.</p> +<p>“I am come to bid you farewell, <i>lieber Herr</i>; +tomorrow I return to Compostella.”</p> +<p>“On what errand?”</p> +<p>“To dig up the <i>Schatz</i>, <i>lieber Herr</i>. +For what else should I go? For what have I lived until now, +but that I may dig up the <i>Schatz</i> in the end?”</p> +<p>“You might have lived for something better,” I +exclaimed. “I wish you success, however. But on +what grounds do you hope? Have you obtained permission to +dig? Surely you remember your former trials in +Galicia?”</p> +<p>“I have not forgotten them, <i>lieber Herr</i>, nor the +journey to Oviedo, nor ‘the seven acorns,’ nor the +fight with death in the <i>barranco</i>. But I must +accomplish my destiny. I go now to Galicia, as is becoming +<a name="page182"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 182</span>a Swiss, +at the expense of the government, with coach and mule, I mean in +the <i>galera</i>. I am to have all the help I require, so +that I can dig down to the earth’s centre if I think +fit. I—but I must not tell your worship, for I am +sworn on ‘the four <i>Evangelien</i>,’ not to +tell.”</p> +<p>“Well, Benedict, I have nothing to say, save that I hope +you will succeed in your digging.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, <i>lieber Herr</i>, thank you; and now +farewell. Succeed! I shall succeed!” Here +he stopped short, started, and looking upon me with an expression +of countenance almost wild, he exclaimed, “<i>Heiliger +Gott</i>! I forgot one thing. Suppose I should not +find the treasure after all!”</p> +<p>“Very rationally said; pity, though, that you did not +think of that contingency till now. I tell you, my friend, +that you have engaged in a most desperate undertaking. It +is true that you may find a treasure. The chances are, +however, a hundred to one that you do not, and in that event what +will be your situation? You will be looked upon as an +impostor, and the consequences may be horrible to you. +Remember where you are, and amongst whom you are. The +Spaniards are a credulous people, but let them once suspect that +they have been imposed upon, and above all laughed at, and their +thirst for vengeance knows no limit. Think not that your +innocence will avail you. That you are no impostor I feel +convinced; but they would never believe it. It is not too +late. Return your fine clothes and magic rattan to those +from whom you had them. Put on your old garments, grasp +your ragged staff, and come with me to the Sagra, to assist in +circulating the illustrious Gospel amongst the rustics on the +Tagus’ bank.”</p> +<p><a name="page183"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +183</span>Benedict mused for a moment, then, shaking his head, he +cried, “No, no, I must accomplish my destiny. The +<i>Schatz</i> is not yet dug up. So said the voice in the +<i>barranco</i>. To-morrow to Compostella. I shall +find it—the <i>Schatz</i>—it is still there—it +<i>must</i> be there.”</p> +<p>He went, and I never saw him more. What I heard, +however, was extraordinary enough. It appeared that the +government had listened to his tale, and had been so struck with +Benedict’s exaggerated description of the buried treasure, +that they imagined that, by a little trouble and outlay, gold and +diamonds might be dug up at Saint James sufficient to enrich +themselves and to pay off the national debt of Spain. The +Swiss returned to Compostella “like a duke,” to use +his own words. The affair, which had at first been kept a +profound secret, was speedily divulged. It was, indeed, +resolved that the investigation, which involved consequences of +so much importance, should take place in a manner the most public +and imposing. A solemn festival was drawing nigh, and it +was deemed expedient that the search should take place upon that +day. The day arrived. All the bells in Compostella +pealed. The whole populace thronged from their houses, a +thousand troops were drawn up in the square, the expectation of +all was wound up to the highest pitch. A procession +directed its course to the church of San Roque; at its head was +the captain-general and the Swiss, brandishing in his hand the +magic rattan; close behind walked the <i>meiga</i>, the Gallegan +witch-wife, by whom the treasure-seeker had been originally +guided in the search; numerous masons brought up the rear, +bearing implements to break up the ground. The procession +enters the church, they pass through it in solemn march, they +find themselves in a vaulted <a name="page184"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 184</span>passage. The Swiss looks +around. “Dig here,” said he suddenly. +“Yes, dig here,” said the <i>meiga</i>. The +masons labour, the floor is broken up,—a horrible and fetid +odour arises. . . .</p> +<p>Enough; no treasure was found, and my warning to the +unfortunate Swiss turned out but too prophetic. He was +forthwith seized and flung into the horrid prison of Saint James, +amidst the execrations of thousands, who would have gladly torn +him limb from limb.</p> +<p>The affair did not terminate here. The political +opponents of the government did not allow so favourable an +opportunity to escape for launching the shafts of ridicule. +The <i>moderados</i> were taunted in the cortes for their avarice +and credulity, whilst the liberal press wafted on its wings +through Spain the story of the treasure-hunt at Saint James.</p> +<p>“After all, it was a <i>trampa</i> of <i>Don +Jorge’s</i>,” said one of my enemies. +“That fellow is at the bottom of half the <i>picardias</i> +which happen in Spain.”</p> +<p>Eager to learn the fate of the Swiss, I wrote to my old friend +Rey Romero, at Compostella. In his answer he states: +“I saw the Swiss in prison, to which place he sent for me, +craving my assistance, for the sake of the friendship which I +bore to you. But how could I help him? He was +speedily after removed from Saint James, I know not +whither. It is said that he disappeared on the +road.”</p> +<p>Truth is sometimes stranger than fiction. Where in the +whole cycle of romance shall we find anything more wild, +grotesque, and sad, than the easily authenticated history of +Benedict Mol, the treasure-digger of Saint James?</p> +<h2><a name="page185"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +185</span>CHAPTER XLIII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Villa Seca—Moorish House—The +Puchera—The Rustic Council—Polite +Ceremonial—The Flower of Spain—The Bridge of +Azeca—The Ruined Castle—Taking the Field—Demand +for the Word—The Old Peasant—The Curate and +Blacksmith—Cheapness of the Scriptures.</p> +<p>It was one of the most fiercely hot days in which I ever +braved the sun, when I arrived at Villa Seca. The heat in +the shade must have amounted at least to one hundred degrees, and +the entire atmosphere seemed to consist of flickering +flame. At a place called Leganez, six leagues from Madrid, +and about half way to Toledo, we diverged from the highway, +bending our course seemingly towards the south-east. We +rode over what are called plains in Spain, but which, in any +other part of the world, would be called undulating and broken +ground. The crops of corn and barley had already +disappeared, the last vestiges discoverable being here and there +a few sheaves, which the labourers were occupied in removing to +their garners in the villages. The country could scarcely +be called beautiful, being perfectly naked, exhibiting neither +trees nor verdure. It was not, however, without its +pretensions to grandeur and magnificence, like every part of +Spain. The most prominent objects were two <a +name="page186"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 186</span>huge +calcareous hills, or rather one cleft in twain, which towered up +on high; the summit of the nearest being surmounted by the ruins +of an ancient castle, that of Villaluenga. About an hour +past noon we reached Villa Seca.</p> +<p>We found it a large village, containing about seven hundred +inhabitants, and surrounded by a mud wall. A <i>plaza</i>, +or market-place, stood in the midst, one side of which is +occupied by what is called a palace, a clumsy quadrangular +building of two stories, belonging to some noble family, the +lords of the neighbouring soil. It was deserted, however; +being only occupied by a kind of steward, who stored up in its +chambers the grain which he received as rent from the tenants and +<i>villanos</i> who farmed the surrounding district.</p> +<p>The village stands at the distance of about a quarter of a +league from the bank of the Tagus, which even here, in the heart +of Spain, is a beautiful stream, not navigable, however, on +account of the sand-banks, which in many places assume the +appearance of small islands, and are covered with trees and +brushwood. The village derives its supply of water entirely +from the river, having none of its own—such, at least, as +is potable—the water of its wells being all brackish, on +which account it is probably termed Villa Seca, which signifies +“the dry hamlet.” The inhabitants are said to +have been originally Moors; certain it is, that various customs +are observable here highly favourable to such a +supposition. Amongst others, a very curious one: it is +deemed infamous for a woman of Villa Seca to go across the +market-place, or to be seen there, though they have no hesitation +in showing themselves in the streets and lanes. A +deep-rooted hostility exists between the inhabitants of this +place <a name="page187"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +187</span>and those of a neighbouring village, called Vargas; +they rarely speak when they meet, and never intermarry. +There is a vague tradition that the people of the latter place +are old Christians, and it is highly probable that these +neighbours were originally of widely different blood; those of +Villa Seca being of particularly dark complexions, whilst the +indwellers of Vargas are light and fair. Thus the old feud +between Moor and Christian is still kept up in the nineteenth +century in Spain.</p> +<p>Drenched in perspiration, which fell from our brows like rain, +we arrived at the door of Juan Lopez, the husband of Maria +Diaz. Having heard of our intention to pay him a visit, he +was expecting us, and cordially welcomed us to his habitation, +which, like a genuine Moorish house, consisted only of one +story. It was amply large, however, with a court and +stable. All the apartments were deliciously cool. The +floors were of brick or stone; and the narrow and trellised +windows, which were without glass, scarcely permitted a ray of +sun to penetrate into the interior.</p> +<p>A <i>puchera</i> had been prepared in expectation of our +arrival; the heat had not taken away my appetite, and it was not +long before I did full justice to this the standard dish of +Spain. Whilst I ate, Lopez played upon the guitar, singing +occasionally snatches of Andalusian songs. He was a short, +merry-faced, active fellow, whom I had frequently seen at Madrid, +and was a good specimen of the Spanish <i>labrador</i>, or +yeoman. Though far from possessing the ability and +intellect of his wife, Maria Diaz, he was by no means deficient +in shrewdness and understanding. He was, moreover, honest +and disinterested, and performed good service in the Gospel +cause, as will presently appear.</p> +<p><a name="page188"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 188</span>When +the repast was concluded, Lopez thus addressed +me:—“<i>Señor Don Jorge</i>, your arrival in +our village has already caused a sensation; more especially as +these are times of war and tumult, and every person is afraid of +another, and we dwell here close on the confines of the factious +country: for, as you well know, the greater part of La Mancha is +in the hands of the <i>Carlinos</i> and thieves, parties of whom +frequently show themselves on the other side of the river; on +which account the <i>alcalde</i> of this city, with the other +grave and notable people thereof, are desirous of seeing your +worship, and conversing with you, and of examining your +passport.” “It is well,” said I; +“let us forthwith pay a visit to these worthy +people.” Whereupon he conducted me across the +<i>plaza</i>, to the house of the <i>alcalde</i>, where I found +the rustic dignitary seated in the passage, enjoying the +refreshing coolness of a draught of air which rushed +through. He was an elderly man, of about sixty, with +nothing remarkable in his appearance or his features, which +latter were placid and good-humoured. There were several +people with him, amongst whom was the surgeon of the place, a +tall and immensely bulky man, an Alavese by birth, from the town +of Vitoria. There was also a red fiery-faced individual, +with a nose very much turned on one side, who was the blacksmith +of the village, and was called in general <i>El Tuerto</i>, <a +name="citation188"></a><a href="#footnote188" +class="citation">[188]</a> from the circumstance of his having +but one eye. Making the assembly a low bow, I pulled out my +passport, and thus addressed them:—</p> +<p><a name="page189"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +189</span>“Grave men and cavaliers of this city of Villa +Seca, as I am a stranger, of whom it is not possible that you +should know anything, I have deemed it my duty to present myself +before you, and to tell you who I am. Know, then, that I am +an Englishman of good blood and fathers, travelling in these +countries for my own profit and diversion, and for that of other +people also. I have now found my way to Villa Seca, where I +propose to stay some time, doing that which may be deemed +convenient; sometimes riding across the plain, and sometimes +bathing myself in the waters of the river, which are reported to +be of advantage in times of heat. I therefore beg that, +during my sojourn in this capital, I may enjoy such countenance +and protection from its governors as they are in the habit of +affording to those who are of quiet and well-ordered life, and +are disposed to be buxom and obedient to the customs and laws of +the republic.”</p> +<p>“He speaks well,” said the <i>alcalde</i>, +glancing around.</p> +<p>“Yes, he speaks well,” said the bulky Alavese; +“there is no denying it.”</p> +<p>“I never heard any one speak better,” cried the +blacksmith, starting up from a stool on which he was +seated. “<i>Vaya</i>! he is a big man and a fair +complexioned, like myself. I like him, and have a horse +that will just suit him; one that is the flower of Spain, and is +eight inches above the mark.”</p> +<p>I then, with another bow, presented my passport to the +<i>alcalde</i>, who, with a gentle motion of his hand, appeared +to decline taking it, at the same time saying, “It is not +necessary.” “Oh, not at all,” exclaimed +the surgeon. “The housekeepers of Villa Seca know how +to comport themselves with formality,” observed the +blacksmith. “They would be very loth to harbour <a +name="page190"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 190</span>any +suspicion against a cavalier so courteous and well +spoken.” Knowing, however, that this refusal amounted +to nothing, and that it merely formed part of a polite +ceremonial, I proffered the passport a second time, whereupon it +was instantly taken, and in a moment the eyes of all present were +bent upon it with intense curiosity. It was examined from +top to bottom, and turned round repeatedly, and though it is not +probable that an individual present understood a word of it, it +being written in French, it gave nevertheless universal +satisfaction; and when the <i>alcalde</i>, carefully folding it +up, returned it to me, they all observed that they had never seen +a better passport in their lives, or one which spake in higher +terms of the bearer.</p> +<p>Who was it said that “Cervantes sneered Spain’s +chivalry away”? <a name="citation190"></a><a +href="#footnote190" class="citation">[190]</a> I know not; +and the author of such a line scarcely deserves to be +remembered. How the rage for scribbling tempts people at +the present day to write about lands and nations of which they +know nothing, or worse than nothing! <i>Vaya</i>! It +is not <a name="page191"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +191</span>from having seen a bull-fight at Seville or Madrid, or +having spent a handful of ounces at a <i>posada</i> in either of +those places, kept perhaps by a Genoese or a Frenchman, that you +are competent to write about such a people as the Spaniards, and +to tell the world how they think, how they speak, and how they +act. Spain’s chivalry sneered away! Why, there +is every probability that the great body of the Spanish nation +speak, think, and live precisely as their forefathers did six +centuries ago.</p> +<p>In the evening the blacksmith, or, as he would be called in +Spanish, <i>El Herrador</i>, made his appearance at the door of +Lopez on horseback. “<i>Vamos</i>, <i>Don +Jorge</i>,” he shouted. “Come with me, if your +worship is disposed for a ride. I am going to bathe my +horse in the Tagus, by the bridge of Azeca.” I +instantly saddled my <i>jaca Cordovesa</i>, and joining him, we +rode out of the village, directing our course across the plain +towards the river. “Did you ever see such a horse as +this of mine, <i>Don Jorge</i>?” he demanded. +“Is he not a jewel—an <i>alhaja</i>?” And +in truth the horse was a noble and gallant creature, in height at +least sixteen hands, broad-chested, but of clean and elegant +limbs. His neck was superbly arched, and his head towered +on high like that of a swan. In colour he was a bright +chestnut, save his flowing mane and tail, which were almost +black. I expressed my admiration; whereupon the +<i>herrador</i>, in high spirits, pressed his heels to the +creature’s sides, and flinging the bridle on its neck, +speeded over the plain with prodigious swiftness, shouting the +old Spanish cry, <i>Cierra</i>! I attempted to keep up with +him, but had not a chance. “I call him the flower of +Spain,” said the <i>herrador</i>, rejoining me. +“Purchase him, <i>Don Jorge</i>; his price is but three <a +name="page192"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 192</span>thousand +<i>reals</i>. <a name="citation192"></a><a href="#footnote192" +class="citation">[192]</a> I would not sell him for double +that sum, but the Carlist thieves have their eyes upon him, and I +am apprehensive that they will some day make a dash across the +river and break into Villa Seca, all to get possession of my +horse, ‘The Flower of Spain.’”</p> +<p>It may be as well to observe here, that, within a month from +this period, my friend the <i>herrador</i>, not being able to +find a regular purchaser for his steed, entered into negociations +with the aforesaid thieves respecting him, and finally disposed +of the animal to their leader, receiving not the three thousand +<i>reals</i> he demanded, but an entire herd of horned cattle, +probably driven from the plains of La Mancha. For this +transaction, which was neither more nor less than high treason, +he was cast into the prison of Toledo, where, however, he did not +continue long; for during a short visit to Villa Seca, which I +made in the spring of the following year, I found him +<i>alcalde</i> of that “republic.”</p> +<p>We arrived at the bridge of Azeca, which is about half a +league from Villa Seca: close beside it is a large water-mill, +standing upon a dam which crosses the river. Dismounting +from his steed, the <i>herrador</i> proceeded to divest it of the +saddle, then causing it to enter the mill-pool, he led it by +means of a cord to a particular spot, where the water reached +halfway up its neck, then fastening the cord to a post on the +bank, he left the animal standing in the pool. I thought I +could do no better than follow his example; and, accordingly, +procuring a rope from the mill, I led my own horse into the +water. “It will refresh their blood, <i>Don +Jorge</i>,”, said the <i>herrador</i>; “let us leave +them there for an hour, whilst we go and divert +ourselves.”</p> +<p><a name="page193"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 193</span>Near +the bridge, on the side of the river on which we were, was a kind +of guard-house, where were three carbineers of the revenue, who +collected the tolls of the bridge. We entered into +conversation with them: “Is not this a dangerous position +of yours,” said I to one of them, who was a Catalan, +“close beside the factious country? Surely it would +not be difficult for a body of the <i>Carlinos</i> or bandits to +dash across the bridge and make prisoners of you all.”</p> +<p>“It would be easy enough at any moment, cavalier,” +replied the Catalan; “we are, however, all in the hands of +God, and he has preserved us hitherto, and perhaps still +will. True it is that one of our number, for there were +four of us originally, fell the other day into the hands of the +<i>canaille</i>. He had wandered across the bridge amongst +the thickets with his gun in search of a hare or rabbit, when +three or four of them fell upon him and put him to death in a +manner too horrible to relate. But patience! every man who +lives must die. I shall not sleep the worse to-night +because I may chance to be hacked by the knives of these +<i>malvados</i> to-morrow. Cavalier, I am from Barcelona, +and have seen there mariners of your nation; this is not so good +a country as Barcelona. <i>Paciencia</i>! Cavalier, +if you will step into our house, I will give you a glass of +water; we have some that is cool, for we dug a deep hole in the +earth and buried there our pitcher; it is cool, as I told you, +but the water of Castile is not like that of +Catalonia.”</p> +<p>The moon had arisen when we mounted our horses to return to +the village, and the rays of the beauteous luminary danced +merrily on the rushing waters of the Tagus, silvered the plain +over which we were passing, and bathed in a flood of brightness +the bold sides of <a name="page194"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +194</span>the calcareous hill of Villaluenga and the antique +ruins which crowned its brow. “Why is that the Castle +of Villaluenga?” I demanded.</p> +<p>“From a village of that name, which stands on the other +side of the hill, <i>Don Jorge</i>,” replied the +<i>herrador</i>. “<i>Vaya</i>! it is a strange place, +that castle: some say it was built by the Moors in the old times, +and some by the Christians when they first laid siege to +Toledo. It is not inhabited now, save by rabbits, which +breed there in abundance amongst the long grass and broken +stones, and by eagles and vultures, which build on the tops of +the towers. I occasionally go there with my gun to shoot a +rabbit. On a fine day you may descry both Toledo and Madrid +from its walls. I cannot say I like the place, it is so +dreary and melancholy. The hill on which it stands is all +of chalk, and is very difficult of ascent. I heard my +grandame say that once, when she was a girl, a cloud of smoke +burst from that hill, and that flames of fire were seen, just as +if it contained a volcano, as perhaps it does, <i>Don +Jorge</i>.”</p> +<p>The grand work of Scripture circulation soon commenced in the +Sagra. Notwithstanding the heat of the weather, I rode +about in all directions. It was well that heat agrees with +my constitution, otherwise it would have been impossible to +effect anything in this season, when the very <i>arrieros</i> +frequently fall dead from their mules, smitten by a +sun-stroke. I had an excellent assistant in Antonio, who, +disregarding the heat like myself, and afraid of nothing, visited +several villages with remarkable success. “<i>Mon +maître</i>,” said he, “I wish to show you that +nothing is beyond my capacity.” But he who put the +labours of us both to shame, was my host, Juan Lopez, whom it had +pleased <a name="page195"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +195</span>the Lord to render favourable to the cause. +“<i>Don Jorge</i>,” said he, “<i>yo quiero +engancharme con usted</i>; <a name="citation195a"></a><a +href="#footnote195a" class="citation">[195a]</a> I am a liberal, +and a foe to superstition; I will take the field, and, if +necessary, will follow you to the end of the world: <i>Viva +Inglaterra</i>; <i>viva el Evangelio</i>.” Thus +saying, he put a large bundle of Testaments into a satchel, and, +springing upon the crupper of his grey donkey, he cried, +“<i>Arrhé</i>! <i>burra</i>!” <a +name="citation195b"></a><a href="#footnote195b" +class="citation">[195b]</a> and hastened away. I sat down +to my journal.</p> +<p>Ere I had finished writing I heard the voice of the +<i>burra</i> in the courtyard, and going out, I found my host +returned. He had disposed of his whole cargo of twenty +Testaments at the village of Vargas, distant from Villa Seca +about a league. Eight poor harvest-men, who were refreshing +themselves at the door of a wine-house, purchased each a copy, +whilst the village schoolmaster secured the rest for the little +ones beneath his care, lamenting, at the same time, the great +difficulty he had long experienced in obtaining religious books, +owing to their scarcity and extravagant price. Many other +persons were also anxious to purchase Testaments, but Lopez was +unable to supply them: at his departure they requested him to +return within a few days.</p> +<p>I was aware that I was playing rather a daring game, and that +it was very possible that, when I least expected it, I might be +seized, tied to the tail of a mule, and dragged either to the +prison of Toledo or Madrid. Yet such a prospect did not +discourage me in the least, but rather urged me to persevere; +for, at this time, without the slightest wish to magnify myself, +<a name="page196"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 196</span>I could +say that I was eager to lay down my life for the cause, and +whether a bandit’s bullet or the gaol fever brought my +career to a close, was a matter of indifference to me; I was not +then a stricken man: “Ride on, because of the word of +righteousness,” was my cry.</p> +<p>The news of the arrival of the book of life soon spread like +wildfire through the villages of the Sagra of Toledo, and +wherever my people and myself directed our course we found the +inhabitants disposed to receive our merchandise; it was even +called for where not exhibited. One night as I was bathing +myself and horse in the Tagus, a knot of people gathered on the +bank, crying, “Come out of the water, Englishman, and give +us books; we have got our money in our hands.” The +poor creatures then held out their hands, filled with +<i>cuartos</i>, a copper coin of the value of a farthing, but +unfortunately I had no Testaments to give them. Antonio, +however, who was at a short distance, having exhibited one, it +was instantly torn from his hands by the people, and a scuffle +ensued to obtain possession of it. It very frequently +occurred that the poor labourers in the neighbourhood, being +eager to obtain Testaments, and having no money to offer us in +exchange, brought various articles to our habitation as +equivalents; for example, rabbits, fruit, and barley; and I made +a point never to disappoint them, as such articles were of +utility either for our own consumption or that of the horses.</p> +<p>In Villa Seca there was a school in which fifty-seven children +were taught the first rudiments of education. One morning +the schoolmaster, a tall slim figure of about sixty, bearing on +his head one of the peaked hats of Andalusia, and wrapped, +notwithstanding the <a name="page197"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 197</span>excessive heat of the weather, in a +long cloak, made his appearance, and having seated himself, +requested to be shown one of our books. Having delivered it +to him, he remained examining it for nearly an hour, without +uttering a word. At last he laid it down with a sigh, and +said that he should be very happy to purchase some of these books +for his school, but from their appearance, especially from the +quality of the paper and binding, he was apprehensive that to pay +for them would exceed the means of the parents of his pupils, as +they were almost destitute of money, being poor labourers. +He then commenced blaming the government, which, he said, +established schools without affording the necessary books, adding +that in his school there were but two books for the use of all +his pupils, and these, he confessed, contained but little +good. I asked him what he considered the Testaments were +worth? He said, “<i>Señor</i> Cavalier, to +speak frankly, I have in other times paid twelve <i>reals</i> for +books inferior to yours in every respect; but I assure you that +my poor pupils would be utterly unable to pay the half of that +sum.” I replied, “I will sell you as many as +you please for three <i>reals</i> each. I am acquainted +with the poverty of the land, and my friends and myself, in +affording the people the means of spiritual instruction, have no +wish to curtail their scanty bread.” He replied, +“<i>Bendito sea Dios</i>!” <a +name="citation197"></a><a href="#footnote197" +class="citation">[197]</a> and could scarcely believe his +ears. He instantly purchased a dozen, expending, as he +said, all the money he possessed, with the exception of a few +<i>cuartos</i>. The introduction of the Word of God into +the country schools of Spain is therefore begun, and I humbly +hope that it will prove one of those events which the Bible +Society, after the <a name="page198"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +198</span>lapse of years, will have most reason to remember with +joy and gratitude to the Almighty.</p> +<p>An old peasant is reading in the portico. Eighty-four +years have passed over his head, and he is almost entirely deaf; +nevertheless he is reading aloud the second of Matthew: three +days since he bespoke a Testament, but not being able to raise +the money, he has not redeemed it until the present moment. +He has just brought thirty farthings. As I survey the +silvery hair which overshadows his sun-burnt countenance, the +words of the song occurred to me, “Lord, now lettest thou +thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word: for mine eyes +have seen thy salvation.”</p> +<p>I experienced much grave kindness and simple hospitality from +the good people of Villa Seca during my sojourn amongst +them. I had at this time so won their hearts by the +“formality” of my behaviour and language, that I +firmly believe they would have resisted to the knife any attempt +which might have been made to arrest or otherwise maltreat +me. He who wishes to become acquainted with the genuine +Spaniard must seek him not in seaports and large towns, but in +lone and remote villages, like those of the Sagra. There he +will find all that gravity of deportment and chivalry of +disposition which Cervantes is said to have sneered away; <a +name="citation198"></a><a href="#footnote198" +class="citation">[198]</a> and there he will hear, in everyday +conversation, those grandiose expressions, which, when met with +in the romances of chivalry, are scoffed at as ridiculous +exaggerations.</p> +<p>I had one enemy in the village—it was the curate.</p> +<p>“The fellow is a heretic and a scoundrel,” said he +one day in the conclave. “He never enters the church, +<a name="page199"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 199</span>and is +poisoning the minds of the people with his Lutheran books. +Let him be bound and sent to Toledo, or turned out of the village +at least.”</p> +<p>“I will have nothing of the kind,” said the +<i>alcalde</i>, who was said to be a Carlist. “If he +has his opinions, I have mine too. He has conducted himself +with politeness. Why should I interfere with him? He +has been courteous to my daughter, and has presented her with a +volume. <i>Que viva</i>! and with respect to his being a +Lutheran, I have heard say that amongst the Lutherans there are +sons of as good fathers as here. He appears to me a +<i>caballero</i>. He speaks well.”</p> +<p>“There is no denying it,” said the surgeon.</p> +<p>“Who speaks <i>so</i> well?” shouted the +<i>herrador</i>. “And who has more formality? +<i>Vaya</i>! did he not praise my horse, ‘The Flower of +Spain’? Did he not say that in the whole of +<i>Inglaterra</i> there was not a better? Did he not assure +me, moreover, that if he were to remain in Spain he would +purchase it, giving me my own price? Turn him out, +indeed! Is he not of my own blood, is he not +fair-complexioned? Who shall turn him out when I, +‘the one-eyed,’ say no?”</p> +<p>In connexion with the circulation of the Scriptures I will now +relate an anecdote not altogether divested of singularity. +I have already spoken of the water-mill by the bridge of +Azeca. I had formed acquaintance with the tenant of this +mill, who was known in the neighbourhood by the name of Don +Antero. One day, taking me into a retired place, he asked +me, to my great astonishment, whether I would sell him a thousand +Testaments at the price at which I was disposing of them to the +peasantry; saying, if I would consent <a name="page200"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 200</span>he would pay me immediately. +In fact, he put his hand into his pocket, and pulled it out +filled with gold ounces. I asked him what was his reason +for wishing to make so considerable a purchase. Whereupon +he informed me that he had a relation in Toledo whom he wished to +establish, and that he was of opinion that his best plan would be +to hire him a shop there and furnish it with Testaments. I +told him that he must think of nothing of the kind, as probably +the books would be seized on the first attempt to introduce them +into Toledo, as the priests and canons were much averse to their +distribution.</p> +<p>He was not disconcerted, however, and said his relation could +travel, as I myself was doing, and dispose of them to the +peasants with profit to himself. I confess I was inclined +at first to accept his offer, but at length declined it, as I did +not wish to expose a poor man to the risk of losing money, goods, +and perhaps liberty and life. I was likewise averse to the +books being offered to the peasantry at an advanced price, being +aware that they could not afford it, and the books, by such an +attempt, would lose a considerable part of that influence which +they then enjoyed; for their cheapness struck the minds of the +people, and they considered it almost as much in the light of a +miracle as the Jews the manna which dropped from heaven at the +time they were famishing, or the spring which suddenly gushed +from the flinty rock to assuage their thirst in the +wilderness.</p> +<p>At this time a peasant was continually passing and repassing +between Villa Seca and Madrid, bringing us cargoes of Testaments +on a <i>borrico</i>. We continued our labours until the +greater part of the villages of the Sagra were well supplied with +books, more especially <a name="page201"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 201</span>those of Vargas, Coveja, Mocejon, +Villaluenga, Villa Seca, and Yuncler. <a +name="citation201"></a><a href="#footnote201" +class="citation">[201]</a> Hearing at last that our +proceedings were known at Toledo, and were causing considerable +alarm, we returned to Madrid.</p> +<h2><a name="page202"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +202</span>CHAPTER XLIV.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Aranjuez—A Warning—A Night +Adventure—A Fresh +Expedition—Segovia—Abades—Factious +Curas—Lopez in Prison—Rescue of Lopez.</p> +<p>The success which had attended our efforts in the Sagra of +Toledo speedily urged me on to a new enterprise. I now +determined to direct my course to La Mancha, and to distribute +the Word amongst the villages of that province. Lopez, who +had already performed such important services in the Sagra, had +accompanied us to Madrid, and was eager to take part in this new +expedition. We determined in the first place to proceed to +Aranjuez, where we hoped to obtain some information which might +prove of utility in the further regulation of our movements; +Aranjuez being but a slight distance from the frontier of La +Mancha, and the high-road into that province passing directly +through it. We accordingly sallied forth from Madrid, +selling from twenty to forty Testaments in every village which +lay in our way, until we arrived at Aranjuez, to which place we +had forwarded a large supply of books.</p> +<p>A lovely spot is Aranjuez, <a name="citation202"></a><a +href="#footnote202" class="citation">[202]</a> though in +desolation: here the Tagus flows through a delicious valley, <a +name="page203"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 203</span>perhaps the +most fertile in Spain; and here upsprang, in Spain’s better +days, a little city, with a small but beautiful palace, shaded by +enormous trees, where royalty delighted to forget its +cares. Here Ferdinand the Seventh spent his latter days, +surrounded by lovely <i>señoras</i> and Andalusian +bull-fighters; but, as the German Schiller has it in one of his +tragedies—</p> +<blockquote><p>“The happy days in fair Aranjuez<br /> +Are past and gone.” <a name="citation203"></a><a +href="#footnote203" class="citation">[203]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>When the sensual king went to his dread account, royalty +deserted it, and it soon fell into decay. Intriguing +courtiers no longer crowd its halls; its spacious circus, where +Manchegan bulls once roared in rage and agony, is now closed, and +the light tinkling of guitars is no longer heard amidst its +groves and gardens.</p> +<p>At Aranjuez I made a sojourn of three days, during which time +Antonio, Lopez, and myself visited every house in the town. +We found a vast deal of poverty and ignorance amongst the +inhabitants, and experienced some opposition: nevertheless it +pleased the Almighty to permit us to dispose of about eighty +Testaments, which were purchased entirely by the very poor +people; those in easier circumstances paying no attention to the +Word of God, but rather turning it to scoff and ridicule.</p> +<p>One circumstance was very gratifying and cheering to me, +namely, the ocular proof which I possessed that the books which I +disposed of were read, and with attention, by those to whom I +sold them; and that many others participated in their +benefit. In the streets of Aranjuez, and beneath the mighty +cedars <a name="page204"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +204</span>and gigantic elms and plantains which compose its noble +woods, I have frequently seen groups assembled listening to +individuals who, with the New Testament in their hands, were +reading aloud the comfortable words of salvation.</p> +<p>It is probable that, had I remained a longer period at +Aranjuez, I might have sold many more of these Divine books, but +I was eager to gain La Mancha and its sandy plains, and to +conceal myself for a season amongst its solitary villages, for I +was apprehensive that a storm was gathering around me; but when +once through Ocaña, the frontier town, I knew well that I +should have nothing to fear from the Spanish authorities, as +their power ceased there, the rest of La Mancha being almost +entirely in the hands of the Carlists, and overrun by small +parties of banditti, from whom, however, I trusted that the Lord +would preserve me. I therefore departed for Ocaña, +<a name="citation204"></a><a href="#footnote204" +class="citation">[204]</a> distant three leagues from +Aranjuez.</p> +<p>I started with Antonio at six in the evening, having early in +the morning sent forward Lopez with between two and three hundred +Testaments. We left the highroad, and proceeded by a +shorter way through wild hills and over very broken and +precipitous ground. Being well mounted, we found ourselves +just after sunset opposite Ocaña, which stands on a steep +hill. A deep valley lay between us and the town: we +descended, and came to a small bridge, which traverses a rivulet +at the bottom of the valley, at a very small distance from a kind +of suburb. We crossed the bridge, and were passing by a +deserted house on our left hand, when a man appeared from under +the porch.</p> +<p><a name="page205"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 205</span>What +I am about to state will seem incomprehensible, but a singular +history and a singular people are connected with it: the man +placed himself before my horse so as to bar the way, and said, +“<i>Schophon</i>,” which, in the Hebrew tongue, +signifies a rabbit. <a name="citation205"></a><a +href="#footnote205" class="citation">[205]</a> I knew this +word to be one of the Jewish countersigns, and asked the man if +he had anything to communicate? He said, “You must +not enter the town, for a net is prepared for you. The +<i>corregidor</i> of Toledo, on whom may all evil light, in order +to give pleasure to the priests of Maria, in whose face I spit, +has ordered all the <i>alcaldes</i> of these parts, and the +<i>escribanos</i> and the <i>corchetes</i> to lay hands on you +wherever they may find you, and to send you, and your books, and +all that pertains to you to Toledo. Your servant was seized +this morning in the town above, as he was selling the writings in +the streets, and they are now awaiting your arrival in the +<i>posada</i>; but I knew you from the accounts of my brethren, +and I have been waiting here four hours to give you warning in +order that your horse may turn his tail to your enemies, and +neigh in derision of them. Fear nothing for your servant, +for he is known to the <i>alcalde</i>, and will be set at +liberty; but do you flee, and may God attend you.” +Having said this, he hurried towards the town.</p> +<p>I hesitated not a moment to take his advice, knowing full well +that, as my books had been taken possession of, I could do no +more in that quarter. We turned back in the direction of +Aranjuez, the horses, notwithstanding the nature of the ground, +galloping at full speed; but our adventures were not over. +Midway, and about half a league from the village of <a +name="page206"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 206</span>Antigola, +we saw close to us on our left hand three men on a low +bank. As far as the darkness would permit us to +distinguish, they were naked, but each bore in his hand a long +gun. These were <i>rateros</i>, or the common assassins and +robbers of the roads. We halted and cried out, “Who +goes there?” They replied, “What’s that +to you? pass by.” Their drift was to fire at us from +a position from which it would be impossible to miss. We +shouted, “If you do not instantly pass to the right side of +the road we will tread you down beneath the horses’ +hoofs.” They hesitated and then obeyed, for all +assassins are dastards, and the least show of resolution daunts +them. As we galloped past, one cried, with an obscene oath, +“Shall we fire?” But another said, “No, +no! there’s danger.” We reached Aranjuez, where +early next morning Lopez rejoined us, and we returned to +Madrid.</p> +<p>I am sorry to state that two hundred Testaments were seized at +Ocaña, from whence, after being sealed up, they were +despatched to Toledo. Lopez informed me, that in two hours +he could have sold them all, the demand was so great. As it +was, twenty-seven were disposed of in less than ten minutes.</p> +<p>“Ride on, because of the word of +righteousness.” Notwithstanding the check which we +had experienced at Ocaña, we were far from being +discouraged, and forthwith prepared ourselves for another +expedition. As we returned from Aranjuez to Madrid, my eyes +had frequently glanced towards the mighty wall of mountains +dividing the two Castiles, and I said to myself, “Would it +not be well to cross those hills, and commence operations on the +other side, even in Old Castile? There I am unknown, and +intelligence of my proceedings can scarcely have been transmitted +<a name="page207"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +207</span>thither. Peradventure the enemy is asleep, and +before he has roused himself, I may have sown much of the +precious seed amongst the villages of the Old Castilians. +To Castile, therefore, to <i>Castilla la Vieja</i>!” +Accordingly, on the day after my arrival, I despatched several +cargoes of books to various places which I proposed to visit, and +sent forward Lopez and his donkey, well laden, with directions to +meet me on a particular day beneath a particular arch of the +aqueduct of Segovia. I likewise gave him orders to engage +any persons willing to co-operate with us in the circulation of +the Scriptures, and who might be likely to prove of utility in +the enterprise. A more useful assistant than Lopez in an +expedition of this kind it was impossible to have. He was +not only well acquainted with the country, but had friends, and +even connexions on the other side of the hills, in whose houses +he assured me that we should at all times find a hearty +welcome. He departed in high spirits, exclaiming, “Be +of good cheer, <i>Don Jorge</i>; before we return we will have +disposed of every copy of your evangelic library. Down with +the friars! Down with superstition! <i>Viva +Inglaterra</i>, <i>viva el Evangelio</i>!”</p> +<p>In a few days I followed with Antonio. We ascended the +mountains by the pass called Peña Cerrada, which lies +about three leagues to the eastward of that of Guadarrama. +It is very unfrequented, the high road between the two Castiles +passing through Guadarrama. It has, moreover, an evil name, +being, according to common report, infested with banditti. +The sun was just setting when we reached the top of the hills, +and entered a thick and gloomy pine forest, which entirely covers +the mountains on the side of Old Castile. The descent soon +became so rapid and <a name="page208"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 208</span>precipitous, that we were fain to +dismount from our horses and to drive them before us. Into +the woods we plunged deeper and deeper still; night-birds soon +began to hoot and cry, and millions of crickets commenced their +shrill chirping above, below, and around us. Occasionally, +amidst the trees at a distance, we could see blazes, as if from +immense fires. “They are those of the +charcoal-burners, <i>mon maître</i>,” said Antonio; +“we will not go near them, however, for they are savage +people, and half bandits. Many is the traveller whom they +have robbed and murdered in these horrid wildernesses.”</p> +<p>It was blackest night when we arrived at the foot of the +mountains; we were still, however, amidst woods and pine forests, +which extended for leagues in every direction. “We +shall scarcely reach Segovia to-night, <i>mon +maître</i>,” said Antonio. And so indeed it +proved, for we became bewildered, and at last arrived where two +roads branched off in different directions: we took not the +left-hand road, which would have conducted us to Segovia, but +turned to the right, in the direction of La Granja, where we +arrived at midnight.</p> +<p>We found the desolation of La Granja <a +name="citation208"></a><a href="#footnote208" +class="citation">[208]</a> far greater than that of Aranjuez; +both had suffered from the absence of royalty, but the former to +a degree which was truly appalling. Nine-tenths of the +inhabitants had left this place, which, until the late military +revolution, had been the favourite residence of Christina. +So great is the solitude of La Granja, that wild <a +name="page209"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 209</span>boars from +the neighbouring forests, and especially from the beautiful +pine-covered mountain which rises like a cone directly behind the +palace, frequently find their way into the streets and squares, +and whet their tusks against the pillars of the porticos.</p> +<p>“Ride on, because of the word of +righteousness.” After a stay of twenty-four hours at +La Granja, we proceeded to Segovia. The day had arrived on +which I had appointed to meet Lopez. I repaired to the +aqueduct, and sat down beneath the hundred and seventh arch, +where I waited the greater part of the day, but he came not, +whereupon I arose and went into the city.</p> +<p>At Segovia I tarried two days in the house of a friend; still +I could hear nothing of Lopez. At last, by the greatest +chance in the world, I heard from a peasant that there were men +in the neighbourhood of Abades selling books.</p> +<p>Abades is about three leagues distant from Segovia, and upon +receiving this intelligence, I instantly departed for the former +place, with three donkeys laden with Testaments. I reached +Abades at nightfall, and found Lopez, with two peasants whom he +had engaged, in the house of the surgeon of the place, where I +also took up my residence. He had already disposed of a +considerable number of Testaments in the neighbourhood, and had +that day commenced selling at Abades itself. He had, +however, been interrupted by two of the three <i>curas</i> of the +village, who, with horrid curses, denounced the work, threatening +eternal condemnation to Lopez for selling it, and to any person +who should purchase it; whereupon Lopez, terrified, forbore until +I should arrive. The third <i>cura</i>, however, exerted +himself to the utmost to persuade the people <a +name="page210"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 210</span>to provide +themselves with Testaments, telling them that his brethren were +hypocrites and false guides, who, by keeping them in ignorance of +the word and will of Christ, were leading them to the +abyss. Upon receiving this information, I instantly sallied +forth to the market-place, and that same night succeeded in +disposing of upwards of thirty Testaments. The next morning +the house was entered by the two factious <i>curas</i>; but upon +my rising to confront them, they retreated, and I heard no more +of them, except that they publicly cursed me in the church more +than once, an event which, as no ill resulted from it, gave me +little concern.</p> +<p>I will not detail the events of the next week; suffice it to +say that, arranging my forces in the most advantageous way, I +succeeded, by God’s assistance, in disposing of from five +to six hundred Testaments amongst the villages from one to seven +leagues’ distance from Abades. At the expiration of +that period I received information that my proceedings were known +in Segovia, in which province Abades is situated, and that an +order was about to be sent to the <i>alcalde</i> to seize all +books in my possession. Whereupon, notwithstanding that it +was late in the evening, I decamped with all my people, and +upwards of three hundred Testaments, having a few hours +previously received a fresh supply from Madrid. That night +we passed in the fields, and next morning proceeded to Labajos, a +village on the high-road from Madrid to Valladolid. In this +place we offered no books for sale, but contented ourselves with +supplying the neighbouring villages with the Word of God; we +likewise sold it in the highways.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p210b.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Segovia" +title= +"Segovia" +src="images/p210s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>We had not been at Labajos a week, during which <a +name="page211"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 211</span>time we +were remarkably successful, when the Carlist chieftain, +Balmaseda, <a name="citation211a"></a><a href="#footnote211a" +class="citation">[211a]</a> at the head of his cavalry, made his +desperate inroad into the southern part of Old Castile, dashing +down like an avalanche from the pine-woods of Soria. I was +present at all the horrors which ensued,—the sack of +Arrevalo, and the forcible entry into Martin Muñoz. +Amidst these terrible scenes we continued our labours. +Suddenly I lost Lopez for three days, and suffered dreadful +anxiety on his account, imagining that he had been shot by the +Carlists; at last I heard that he was in prison at Villallos, +three leagues distant. The steps which I took to rescue him +will be found detailed in a communication, which I deemed it my +duty to transmit to Lord William Hervey, who, in the absence of +Sir George Villiers, <a name="citation211b"></a><a +href="#footnote211b" class="citation">[211b]</a> now become Earl +of Clarendon, fulfilled the duties of minister at +Madrid:—</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: right">“Labajos, Province +of Segovia,<br /> +“August 23rd, 1838.</p> +<p>“<span class="smcap">My Lord</span>,</p> +<p>“I beg leave to call your attention to the following +facts. On the 21st inst. I received information that a +person in my employ, of the name of Juan Lopez, had been thrown +into the prison of Villallos, in the province of Avila, by order +of the <i>cura</i> of that place. The crime with which he +was charged was selling the New Testament. I was at that +time at Labajos, in the province of Segovia, and the division of +the factious chieftain Balmaseda was in the immediate +neighbourhood. On the 22nd, I mounted my <a +name="page212"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 212</span>horse and +rode to Villallos, a distance of three leagues. On my +arrival there, I found that Lopez had been removed from the +prison to a private house. An order had arrived from the +<i>corregidor</i> of Avila, commanding that the person of Lopez +should be set at liberty, and that the books which had been found +in his possession should be alone detained. Nevertheless, +in direct opposition to this order (a copy of which I herewith +transmit), the <i>alcalde</i> of Villallos, at the instigation of +the <i>cura</i>, refused to permit the said Lopez to quit the +place, either to proceed to Avila or in any other +direction. It had been hinted to Lopez that as the factious +were expected, it was intended on their arrival to denounce him +to them as a liberal, and to cause him to be sacrificed. +Taking these circumstances into consideration, I deemed it my +duty, as a Christian and a gentleman, to rescue my unfortunate +servant from such lawless hands, and in consequence, defying +opposition, I bore him off, though entirely unarmed, through a +crowd of at least one hundred peasants. On leaving the +place I shouted, ‘<i>Viva Isabel Segunda</i>.’</p> +<p>“As it is my belief that the <i>cura</i> of Villallos is +a person capable of any infamy, I beg leave humbly to intreat +your Lordship to cause a copy of the above narration to be +forwarded to the Spanish Government.</p> +<p>“I have the honour to remain,</p> +<p style="text-align: right">“My Lord,<br /> +“Your Lordship’s most obedient,<br /> +“<span class="smcap">George Borrow</span>.</p> +<p>“To the Right Honourable<br /> + “<span class="smcap">Lord William +Hervey</span>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>After the rescue of Lopez we proceeded in the work of +distribution. Suddenly, however, the symptoms of <a +name="page213"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 213</span>an +approaching illness came over me, which compelled us to return in +all haste to Madrid. Arrived there, I was attacked by a +fever which confined me to my bed for several weeks; occasional +fits of delirium came over me, during one of which I imagined +myself in the market-place of Martin Muñoz, engaged in +deadly struggle with the chieftain Balmaseda.</p> +<p>The fever had scarcely departed, when a profound melancholy +took possession of me, which entirely disqualified me for active +exertion. Change of scene and air was recommended; I +therefore returned to England. <a name="citation213"></a><a +href="#footnote213" class="citation">[213]</a></p> +<h2><a name="page214"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +214</span>CHAPTER XLV.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Return to Spain—Seville—A Hoary +Persecutor—Manchegan Prophetess—Antonio’s +Dream.</p> +<p>On December 31, 1838, I again visited Spain for the third +time. After staying a day or two at Cadiz, I repaired to +Seville, from which place I proposed starting for Madrid with the +mail post. Here I tarried about a fortnight, enjoying the +delicious climate of this terrestrial paradise, and the balmy +breezes of the Andalusian winter, even as I had done two years +previously. Before leaving Seville I visited the +bookseller, my correspondent, who informed me that seventy-six +copies of the hundred Testaments entrusted to his care had been +placed in embargo by the government last summer, and that they +were at the present time in possession of the ecclesiastical +governor; whereupon I determined to visit this functionary also, +with the view of making inquiries concerning the property.</p> +<p>He lived in a large house in the <i>Pajaria</i>, or +straw-market. He was a very old man, between seventy and +eighty, and, like the generality of those who wear the sacerdotal +habit in this city, was a fierce persecuting Papist. I +imagine that he scarcely believed his ears when his two +grand-nephews, beautiful black-haired boys who were playing in +the courtyard, ran to inform <a name="page215"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 215</span>him that an Englishman was waiting +to speak with him, as it is probable that I was the first heretic +who ever ventured into his habitation. I found him in a +vaulted room, seated on a lofty chair, with two sinister-looking +secretaries, also in sacerdotal habits, employed in writing at a +table before him. He brought powerfully to my mind the grim +old inquisitor who persuaded Philip the Second to slay his own +son <a name="citation215"></a><a href="#footnote215" +class="citation">[215]</a> as an enemy to the Church.</p> +<p>He rose as I entered, and gazed upon me with a countenance +dark with suspicion and dissatisfaction. He at last +condescended to point me to a sofa, and I proceeded to state to +him my business. He became much agitated when I mentioned +the Testaments to him; but I no sooner spoke of the Bible Society +and told him who I was, than he could contain himself no longer: +with a stammering tongue, and with eyes flashing fire like hot +coals, he proceeded to rail against the society and myself, +saying that the aims of the first were atrocious, and that, as to +myself, he was surprised that, being once lodged in the prison of +Madrid, I had ever been permitted to quit it; adding, that it was +disgraceful in the government to allow a person of my character +to roam about an innocent and peaceful country, corrupting the +minds of the ignorant and unsuspicious. Far from allowing +myself to be disconcerted by his rude behaviour, I replied to him +with all possible politeness, and assured him that in this +instance he had no reason to alarm himself, as my sole motive in +claiming the books in question was to avail myself of an +opportunity which at present presented itself, of sending them +out of the country, which, indeed, I had been commanded to do by +an official notice. But nothing would soothe him, and he <a +name="page216"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 216</span>informed me +that he should not deliver up the books on any condition, save by +a positive order of the government. As the matter was by no +means an affair of consequence, I thought it wise not to persist, +and also prudent to take my leave before he requested me. I +was followed even down into the street by his niece and +grand-nephews, who, during the whole of the conversation, had +listened at the door of the apartment and heard every word.</p> +<p>In passing through La Mancha, we stayed for four hours at +Manzanares, a large village. I was standing in the +market-place conversing with a curate, when a frightful ragged +object presented itself; it was a girl about eighteen or +nineteen, perfectly blind, a white film being spread over her +huge staring eyes. Her countenance was as yellow as that of +a Mulatto. I thought at first that she was a gypsy, and +addressing myself to her, inquired in <i>Gitano</i> if she were +of that race. She understood me, but shaking her head, +replied, that she was something better than a <i>Gitana</i>, and +could speak something better than that jargon of witches: +whereupon she commenced asking me several questions in +exceedingly good Latin. I was of course very much +surprised, but, summoning all my Latinity, I called her Manchegan +Prophetess, and, expressing my admiration for her learning, +begged to be informed by what means she became possessed of +it. I must here observe that a crowd instantly gathered +around us, who, though they understood not one word of our +discourse, at every sentence of the girl shouted applause, proud +in the possession of a prophetess who could answer the +Englishman.</p> +<p>She informed me that she was born blind, and that a Jesuit +priest had taken compassion on her when she <a +name="page217"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 217</span>was a +child, and had taught her the holy language, in order that the +attention and hearts of Christians might be more easily turned +towards her. I soon discovered that he had taught her +something more than Latin, for upon telling her that I was an +Englishman, she said that she had always loved Britain, which was +once the nursery of saints and sages; for example, Bede and +Alcuin, Columbus and Thomas of Canterbury; but, she added, those +times had gone by since the reappearance of Semiramis +(Elizabeth). Her Latin was truly excellent, and when I, +like a genuine Goth, spoke of Anglia and Terra Vandalica +(Andalusia), <a name="citation217"></a><a href="#footnote217" +class="citation">[217]</a> she corrected me by saying, that in +her language those places were called Britannia and Terra +Betica. When we had finished our discourse, a gathering was +made for the prophetess, the very poorest contributing +something.</p> +<p>After travelling four days and nights, we arrived at Madrid +without having experienced the slightest accident, though it is +but just to observe, and always with gratitude to the Almighty, +that the next mail was stopped. A singular incident befell +me immediately after my arrival. On entering the arch of +the <i>posada</i> called La Reyna, where I intended to put up, I +found myself encircled in a person’s arms, and on turning +round in amazement, beheld my Greek servant, <a +name="page218"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +218</span>Antonio. He was haggard and ill-dressed, and his +eyes seemed starting from their sockets.</p> +<p>As soon as we were alone he informed me that since my +departure he had undergone great misery and destitution, having, +during the whole period, been unable to find a master in need of +his services, so that he was brought nearly to the verge of +desperation; but that on the night immediately preceding my +arrival he had a dream, in which he saw me, mounted on a black +horse, ride up to the gate of the <i>posada</i>, and that on that +account he had been waiting there during the greater part of the +day. I do not pretend to offer an opinion concerning this +narrative, which is beyond the reach of my philosophy, and shall +content myself with observing, that only two individuals in +Madrid were aware of my arrival in Spain. I was very glad +to receive him again into my service, as, notwithstanding his +faults, he had in many instances proved of no slight assistance +to me in my wanderings and Biblical labours.</p> +<p>I was soon settled in my former lodgings, when one of my first +cares was to pay a visit to Lord Clarendon. <a +name="citation218"></a><a href="#footnote218" +class="citation">[218]</a> Amongst other things, he +informed me that he had received an official notice from the +government, stating the seizure of the New Testaments at +Ocaña, the circumstances relating to which I have +described on a former occasion, and informing him that unless +steps were instantly taken to remove them from the country, they +would be destroyed at Toledo, to which place they had been +conveyed. I replied that I should give myself no trouble +about the matter; and that if the authorities of Toledo, civil or +ecclesiastic, <a name="page219"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +219</span>determined upon burning these books, my only hope was +that they would commit them to the flames with all possible +publicity, as by so doing they would but manifest their own +hellish rancour and their hostility to the Word of God.</p> +<p>Being eager to resume my labours, I had no sooner arrived at +Madrid than I wrote to Lopez at Villa Seca, for the purpose of +learning whether he was inclined to co-operate in the work, as on +former occasions. In reply he informed me that he was +busily employed in his agricultural pursuits: to supply his +place, however, he sent over an elderly villager, Victoriano +Lopez by name, a distant relation of his own.</p> +<p>What is a missionary in the heart of Spain without a +horse? Which consideration induced me now to purchase an +Arabian of high caste, which had been brought from Algiers by an +officer of the French legion. The name of this steed, the +best, I believe, that ever issued from the desert, was Sidi +Habismilk. <a name="citation219"></a><a href="#footnote219" +class="citation">[219]</a></p> +<h2><a name="page220"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +220</span>CHAPTER XLVI.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Work of Distribution resumed—Adventure +at Cobeña—Power of the Clergy—Rural +Authorities—Fuente la Higuera—Victoriano’s +Mishap—Village Prison—The Rope—Antonio’s +Errand—Antonio at Mass.</p> +<p>In my last chapter I stated that, immediately after my arrival +at Madrid, I proceeded to get everything in readiness for +commencing operations in the neighbourhood: and I soon entered +upon my labours in reality. Considerable success attended +my feeble efforts in the good cause, for which at present, after +the lapse of some years, I still look back with gratitude to the +Almighty.</p> +<p>All the villages within the distance of four leagues to the +east of Madrid were visited in less than a fortnight, and +Testaments to the number of nearly two hundred disposed of. +These villages for the most part are very small, some of them +consisting of not more than a dozen houses, or I should rather +say miserable cabins. I left Antonio, my Greek, to +superintend matters in Madrid, and proceeded with Victoriano, the +peasant, from Villa Seca, in the direction which I have already +mentioned. We, however, soon parted company and pursued +different routes.</p> +<p>The first village at which I made an attempt was <a +name="page221"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +221</span>Cobeña, about three leagues from Madrid. I +was dressed in the fashion of the peasants in the neighbourhood +of Segovia, in Old Castile, namely, I had on my head a species of +leather helmet or <i>montera</i>, with a jacket and trousers of +the same material. I had the appearance of a person between +sixty and seventy years of age, and drove before me a +<i>borrico</i> with a sack of Testaments lying across its +back. On nearing the village, I met a genteel-looking young +woman leading a little boy by the hand. As I was about to +pass her, with the customary salutation of <i>vaya usted con +Dios</i>, she stopped, and, after looking at me for a moment, she +said, “Uncle, <a name="citation221a"></a><a +href="#footnote221a" class="citation">[221a]</a> what is that you +have got on your <i>borrico</i>? Is it soap?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” I replied; “it is soap to wash souls +clean.”</p> +<p>She demanded what I meant; whereupon I told her that I carried +cheap and godly books for sale. On her requesting to see +one, I produced a copy from my pocket and handed it to her. +She instantly commenced reading with a loud voice, and continued +so for at least ten minutes, occasionally exclaiming, +“<i>Que lectura tan bonita</i>, <i>que lectura tan +linda</i>!” <a name="citation221b"></a><a +href="#footnote221b" class="citation">[221b]</a> At last, +on my informing her that I was in a hurry, and could not wait any +longer, she said, “True, true,” and asked me the +price of the book; I told her “But three +<i>reals</i>,” whereupon she said, that though what I asked +was very little, it was more than she could afford to give, as +there was little or no money in those parts. I said I was +sorry for it, but that I could not dispose of the books for less +than I had demanded, and accordingly, resuming it, wished her +farewell, and left her. <a name="page222"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 222</span>I had not, however, proceeded thirty +yards, when the boy came running behind me, shouting, out of +breath, “Stop, uncle, the book, the book!” Upon +overtaking me, he delivered the three <i>reals</i> in copper, and +seizing the Testament, ran back to her, who I suppose was his +sister, flourishing the book over his head with great glee.</p> +<p>On arriving at the village, I directed my steps to a house, +around the door of which I saw several people gathered, chiefly +women. On my displaying my books, their curiosity was +instantly aroused, and every person had speedily one in his hand, +many reading aloud; however, after waiting nearly an hour, I had +disposed of but one copy, all complaining bitterly of the +distress of the times, and the almost total want of money, +though, at the same time, they acknowledged that the books were +wonderfully cheap, and appeared to be very good and +Christian-like. I was about to gather up my merchandise and +depart, when on a sudden the curate of the place made his +appearance. After having examined the books for some time +with considerable attention, he asked me the price of a copy, and +upon my informing him that it was three <i>reals</i>, he replied +that the binding was worth more, and that he was much afraid that +I had stolen the books, and that it was perhaps his duty to send +me to prison as a suspicious character; but added, that the books +were good books, however they might be obtained, and concluded by +purchasing two copies. The poor people no sooner heard +their curate recommend the volumes, than all were eager to secure +one, and hurried here and there for the purpose of procuring +money, so that between twenty and thirty copies were sold almost +in an instant. This adventure not only affords an <a +name="page223"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 223</span>instance of +the power still possessed by the Spanish clergy over the minds of +the people, but proves that such influence is not always exerted +in a manner favourable to the maintenance of ignorance and +superstition.</p> +<p>In another village, on my showing a Testament to a woman, she +said that she had a child at school for whom she should like to +purchase one, but that she must first know whether the book was +calculated to be of service to him. She then went away, and +presently returned with the schoolmaster, followed by all the +children under his care; she then, showing the schoolmaster a +book, inquired if it would answer for her son. The +schoolmaster called her a simpleton for asking such a question, +and said that he knew the book well, and there was not its equal +in the world. <a name="citation223"></a><a href="#footnote223" +class="citation">[223]</a> He instantly purchased five +copies for his pupils, regretting that he had no more money, +“for if I had,” said he, “I would buy the whole +cargo.” Upon hearing this, the woman purchased four +copies, namely, one for her living son, another for her +<i>deceased husband</i>, a third for herself, and a fourth for +her brother, whom she said she was expecting home that night from +Madrid.</p> +<p>In this manner we proceeded; not, however, with uniform +success. In some villages the people were so poor and needy +that they had literally no money; even in these, however, we +managed to dispose of a few copies in exchange for barley or +refreshments. On entering one very small hamlet, Victoriano +was stopped by the curate, who, on learning what he carried, told +him, that unless he instantly departed, he would cause him to be +imprisoned, and would write to Madrid in order to give +information of what <a name="page224"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 224</span>was going on. The excursion +lasted about eight days. Immediately after my return, I +despatched Victoriano to Caramanchel, <a +name="citation224a"></a><a href="#footnote224a" +class="citation">[224a]</a> a village at a short distance from +Madrid, the only one towards the west which had not been visited +last year. He stayed there about an hour, and disposed of +twelve copies, and then returned, as he was exceedingly timid, +and was afraid of being met by the thieves who swarm on that road +in the evening.</p> +<p>Shortly after these events, a circumstance occurred which +will, perhaps, cause the English reader to smile, whilst, at the +same time, it will not fail to prove interesting, as affording an +example of the feeling prevalent in some of the lone villages of +Spain with respect to innovation and all that savours thereof, +and the strange acts which are sometimes committed by the rural +authorities and the priests, without the slightest fear of being +called to account; for as they live quite apart from the rest of +the world, they know no people greater than themselves, and +scarcely dream of a higher power than their own. <a +name="citation224b"></a><a href="#footnote224b" +class="citation">[224b]</a></p> +<p>I was about to make an excursion to Guadalajara, and the +villages of Alcarria, about seven leagues distant from Madrid; +indeed, I merely awaited the return of Victoriano to sally forth; +I having despatched him in that direction with a few Testaments, +as a kind of explorer, in order that, from his report as to the +disposition manifested by the people for purchasing, I might form +a tolerably accurate opinion as to the number of copies which it +might be necessary to carry with me. However, I heard +nothing of him for a fortnight, at the end of which period a +letter was brought <a name="page225"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +225</span>to me by a peasant, dated from the prison of Fuente la +Higuera, a village eight leagues from Madrid, in the +<i>campiña</i> of Alcalá: <a +name="citation225"></a><a href="#footnote225" +class="citation">[225]</a> this letter, written by Victoriano, +gave me to understand that he had been already eight days +imprisoned, and that unless I could find some means to extricate +him, there was every probability of his remaining in durance +until he should perish with hunger, which he had no doubt would +occur as soon as his money was exhausted. From what I +afterwards learned, it appeared that, after passing the town of +Alcalá, he had commenced distributing, and with +considerable success. His entire stock consisted of +sixty-one Testaments, twenty-five of which he sold without the +slightest difficulty or interruption in the single village of +Arganza; the poor labourers showering blessings on his head for +providing them with such good books at an easy price.</p> +<p>Not more than eighteen of his books remained, when he turned +off the high-road towards Fuente la Higuera. This place was +already tolerably well known to him, he having visited it of old, +when he travelled the country in the capacity of a vender of +<i>cacharras</i>, or earthen pans. He subsequently stated +that he felt some misgiving whilst on the way, as the village had +invariably borne a bad reputation. On his arrival, after +having put up his <i>caballejo</i>, or little pony, at a +<i>posada</i>, he proceeded to the <i>alcalde</i> for the purpose +of asking permission to sell the books, which that dignitary +immediately granted. He now entered a house and sold a +copy, and likewise a second. Emboldened by success, he +entered a third, which, it appeared, belonged to the +barber-surgeon of the village. This personage, having just +completed his dinner, was <a name="page226"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 226</span>seated in an armchair within his +doorway, when Victoriano made his appearance. He was a man +about thirty-five, of a savage truculent countenance. On +Victoriano’s offering him a Testament, he took it in his +hand to examine it; but no sooner did his eyes glance over the +title-page than he burst out into a loud laugh, exclaiming, +“<i>Ha</i>, <i>ha</i>, <i>Don Jorge Borrow</i>, the English +heretic, we have encountered you at last. Glory to the +Virgin and the Saints! We have long been expecting you +here, and at length you are arrived.” He then +inquired the price of the book, and on being told three +<i>reals</i>, he flung down two, and rushed out of the house with +the Testament in his hand.</p> +<p>Victoriano now became alarmed, and determined upon leaving the +place as soon as possible. He therefore hurried back to the +<i>posada</i>, and having paid for the barley which his pony had +consumed, went into the stable, and placing the packsaddle on the +animal’s back, was about to lead it forth, when the +<i>alcalde</i> of the village, the surgeon, and twelve other men, +some of whom were armed with muskets, suddenly presented +themselves. They instantly made Victoriano prisoner; and, +after seizing the books and laying an embargo on the pony, +proceeded, amidst much abuse, to drag the captive to what they +denominated their prison, a low damp apartment with a little +grated window, where they locked him up and left him. At +the expiration of three-quarters of an hour they again appeared, +and conducted him to the house of the curate, where they sat down +in conclave; the curate, who was a man stone blind, presiding, +whilst the sacristan officiated as secretary. The surgeon +having stated his accusation against the prisoner—namely, +that he had detected him in the act of selling a version of the +<a name="page227"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +227</span>Scriptures in the vulgar tongue—the curate +proceeded to examine Victoriano, asking him his name and place of +residence; to which he replied that his name was Victoriano +Lopez, and that he was a native of Villa Seca, in the Sagra of +Toledo. The curate then demanded what religion he +professed? and whether he was a Mahometan or freemason? and +received for answer that he was a Roman Catholic. I must +here state that Victoriano, though sufficiently shrewd in his +way, was a poor old labourer of sixty-four; and until that moment +had never heard either of Mahometans or freemasons. The +curate becoming now incensed, called him a <i>tunante</i>, or +scoundrel, and added, “You have sold your soul to a +heretic; we have long been aware of your proceedings, and those +of your master. You are the same Lopez whom he last year +rescued from the prison of Villallos, in the province of Avila; I +sincerely hope that he will attempt to do the same thing +here.” “Yes, yes,” shouted the rest of +the conclave, “let him but venture here, and we will shed +his heart’s blood on our stones.” In this +manner they went on for nearly half an hour. At last they +broke up the meeting, and conducted Victoriano once more to his +prison.</p> +<p>During his confinement he lived tolerably well, being in +possession of money. His meals were sent him twice a day +from the <i>posada</i>, where his pony remained in embargo. +Once or twice he asked permission of the <i>alcalde</i>, who +visited him every night and morning with his armed guard, to +purchase pen and paper, in order that he might write to Madrid; +but this favour was peremptorily refused him, and all the +inhabitants of the village were forbidden under terrible +penalties to afford him the means of writing, or to convey any <a +name="page228"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 228</span>message +from him beyond the precincts of the place, and two boys were +stationed before the window of his cell for the purpose of +watching everything which might be conveyed to him.</p> +<p>It happened one day that Victoriano, being in need of a +pillow, sent word to the people of the <i>posada</i> to send him +his <i>alforjas</i>, or saddle-bags, which they did. In +these bags there chanced to be a kind of rope, or, as it is +called in Spanish, <i>soga</i>, with which he was in the habit of +fastening his satchel to the pony’s back. The urchins +seeing an end of this rope, hanging from the <i>alforjas</i>, +instantly ran to the <i>alcalde</i> to give him +information. Late at evening, the <i>alcalde</i> again +visited the prisoner at the head of his twelve men as +usual. “<i>Buenos noches</i>,” <a +name="citation228a"></a><a href="#footnote228a" +class="citation">[228a]</a> said the <i>alcalde</i>. +“<i>Buenas noches tenga usted</i>,” <a +name="citation228b"></a><a href="#footnote228b" +class="citation">[228b]</a> replied Victoriano. “For +what purpose did you send for the <i>soga</i> this +afternoon?” demanded the functionary. “I sent +for no <i>soga</i>,” said the prisoner; “I sent for +my <i>alforjas</i> to serve as a pillow, and it was sent in them +by chance.” “You are a false, malicious +knave,” retorted the <i>alcalde</i>; “you intend to +hang yourself, and by so doing ruin us all, as your death would +be laid at our door. Give me the <i>soga</i>.” +No greater insult can be offered to a Spaniard than to tax him +with an intention of committing suicide. Poor Victoriano +flew into a violent rage; and, after calling the <i>alcalde</i> +several very uncivil names, he pulled the <i>soga</i> from his +bags, flung it at his head, and told him to take it home and use +it for his own neck.</p> +<p>At length the people of the <i>posada</i> took pity on the +prisoner, perceiving that he was very harshly treated for no +crime at all; they therefore determined to afford him an +opportunity of informing his friends <a name="page229"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 229</span>of his situation, and accordingly +sent him a pen and inkhorn, concealed in a loaf of bread, and a +piece of writing-paper, pretending that the latter was intended +for cigars. So Victoriano wrote the letter: but now ensued +the difficulty of sending it to its destination, as no person in +the village dare have carried it for any reward. The good +people, however, persuaded a disbanded soldier from another +village, who chanced to be at Fuente la Higuera in quest of work, +to charge himself with it, assuring him that I would pay him well +for his trouble. The man, watching his opportunity, +received the letter from Victoriano at the window: and it was he +who, after travelling on foot all night, delivered it to me in +safety at Madrid.</p> +<p>I was now relieved from my anxiety, and had no fears for the +result. I instantly went to a friend who is in possession +of large estates about Guadalajara, in which province Fuenta la +Higuera is situated, who furnished me with letters to the civil +governor of Guadalajara and all the principal authorities; these +I delivered to Antonio, whom, at his own request, I despatched on +the errand of the prisoner’s liberation. He first +directed his course to Fuente la Higuera, where, entering the +<i>alcalde’s</i> house, he boldly told him what he had come +about. The <i>alcalde</i>, expecting that I was at hand, +with an army of Englishmen, for the purpose of rescuing the +prisoner, became greatly alarmed, and instantly despatched his +wife to summon his twelve men: however, on Antonio’s +assuring him that there was no intention of having recourse to +violence, he became more tranquil. In a short time Antonio +was summoned before the conclave and its blind sacerdotal +president. They at first attempted to frighten him by +assuming a loud bullying tone, and talking of the necessity of <a +name="page230"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 230</span>killing all +strangers, and especially the detested <i>Don Jorge</i> and his +dependents. Antonio, however, who was not a person apt to +allow himself to be easily terrified, scoffed at their threats, +and, showing them his letters to the authorities of Guadalajara, +said that he should proceed there on the morrow and denounce +their lawless conduct; adding that he was a Turkish subject, and +that should they dare to offer him the slightest incivility, he +would write to the Sublime Porte, in comparison with whom the +best kings in the world were but worms, and who would not fail to +avenge the wrongs of any of his children, however distant, in a +manner too terrible to be mentioned. He then returned to +his <i>posada</i>. The conclave now proceeded to deliberate +amongst themselves, and at last determined to send their prisoner +on the morrow to Guadalajara, and deliver him into the hands of +the civil governor.</p> +<p>Nevertheless, in order to keep up a semblance of authority, +they that night placed two men armed at the door of the +<i>posada</i> where Antonio was lodged, as if he himself was a +prisoner. These men, as often as the clock struck the hour, +shouted, “<i>Ave Maria</i>! Death to the +heretics!” Early in the morning the <i>alcalde</i> +presented himself at the <i>posada</i>; but before entering he +made an oration at the door to the people in the street, saying, +amongst other things, “Brethren, these are the fellows who +have come to rob us of our religion.” He then went in +to Antonio’s apartment, and after saluting him with great +politeness, said, that as a royal or high Mass was about to be +celebrated that morning, he had come to invite him to go to +church with him. Whereupon Antonio, though by no means a +Mass-goer, rose and accompanied him, and <a +name="page231"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 231</span>remained +two hours, as he told me, on his knees on the cold stones, to his +great discomfort; the eyes of the whole congregation being fixed +upon him during the time.</p> +<p>After Mass and breakfast, he departed for Guadalajara, +Victoriano having been already despatched under a guard. On +his arrival, he presented his letters to the individuals for whom +they were intended. The civil governor was convulsed with +merriment on hearing Antonio’s account of the +adventure. Victoriano was set at liberty, and the books +were placed in embargo at Guadalajara; the governor stating, +however, that though it was his duty to detain them at present, +they should be sent to me whenever I chose to claim them: he, +moreover, said that he would do his best to cause the authorities +of Fuente la Higuera to be severely punished, as in the whole +affair they had acted in the most cruel, tyrannical manner, for +which they had no authority. Thus terminated this affair: +one of those little accidents which chequer missionary life in +Spain.</p> +<h2><a name="page232"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +232</span>CHAPTER XLVII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Termination of our Rural Labours—Alarm +of the Clergy—A New Experiment—Success at +Madrid—Goblin-Alguazil—Staff of Office—The +Corregidor—An Explanation—The Pope in +England—New Testament expounded—Works of Luther.</p> +<p>We proceeded in our task of distributing the Scriptures with +various success, until the middle of March, when I determined +upon starting for Talavera, for the purpose of seeing what it was +possible to accomplish in that town and the neighbourhood. +I accordingly bent my course in that direction, accompanied by +Antonio and Victoriano. On our way thither we stopped at +Naval Carnero, a large village five leagues to the west of +Madrid, where I remained three days, sending forth Victoriano to +the circumjacent hamlets with small cargoes of Testaments. +Providence, however, which had hitherto so remarkably favoured us +in these rural excursions, now withdrew from us its support, and +brought them to a sudden termination: for in whatever place the +sacred writings were offered for sale, they were forthwith seized +by persons who appeared to be upon the watch; which events +compelled me to alter my intention of proceeding to Talavera, and +to return forthwith to Madrid.</p> +<p><a name="page233"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 233</span>I +subsequently learned that our proceedings on the other side of +Madrid having caused alarm amongst the heads of the clergy, they +had made a formal complaint to the government, who immediately +sent orders to all the <i>alcaldes</i> of the villages, great and +small, in New Castile, to seize the New Testament wherever it +might be exposed for sale; but, at the same time, enjoining them +to be particularly careful not to detain or maltreat the person +or persons who might be attempting to vend it. An exact +description of myself accompanied these orders; and the +authorities, both civil and military, were exhorted to be on +their guard against me and my arts and machinations; for, as the +document stated, I was to-day in one place, and tomorrow at +twenty leagues’ distance.</p> +<p>I was not much discouraged by this blow, which, indeed, did +not come entirely unexpected. I, however, determined to +change the sphere of action, and not expose the sacred volume to +seizure at every step which I should take to circulate it. +In my late attempts I had directed my attention exclusively to +the villages and small towns, in which it was quite easy for the +government to frustrate my efforts by means of circulars to the +local authorities, who would, of course, be on the alert, and +whose vigilance it would be impossible to baffle, as every +novelty which occurs in a small place is forthwith bruited +about. But the case would be widely different amongst the +crowds of the capital, where I could pursue my labours with +comparative secrecy. My present plan was to abandon the +rural districts, and to offer the sacred volume at Madrid, from +house to house, at the same low price as in the country. +This plan I forthwith put into execution.</p> +<p><a name="page234"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +234</span>Having an extensive acquaintance amongst the lower +orders, I selected eight intelligent individuals to co-operate +with me, amongst whom were five women. All these I supplied +with Testaments, and then sent them forth to all the parishes in +Madrid. The result of their efforts more than answered my +expectations. In less than fifteen days after my return +from Naval Carnero, nearly six hundred copies of the life and +words of Him of Nazareth had been sold in the streets and alleys +of Madrid: a fact which I hope I may be permitted to mention with +gladness and with decent triumph in the Lord.</p> +<p>One of the richest streets is the Calle Montera, where reside +the principal merchants and shopkeepers of Madrid. It is, +in fact, the street of commerce, in which respect, and in being a +favourite promenade, it corresponds with the far-famed Nefsky <a +name="citation234"></a><a href="#footnote234" +class="citation">[234]</a> of Saint Petersburg. Every house +in this street was supplied with its Testament, and the same +might be said with respect to the Puerta del Sol. Nay, in +some instances, every individual in the house, man and child, +manservant and maid-servant, was furnished with a copy. My +Greek, Antonio, made wonderful exertions in this quarter; and it +is but justice to say that, but for his instrumentality, on many +occasions, I might have been by no means able to give so +favourable an account of the spread of “the Bible in +Spain.” There was a time when I was in the habit of +saying “dark Madrid,” an expression which, I thank +God, I could now drop. It were scarcely just to call a city +“dark,” in which thirteen hundred Testaments at least +were in circulation, and in daily use.</p> +<p>It was now that I turned to account a supply of <a +name="page235"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 235</span>Bibles +which I had received from Barcelona, in sheets, at the +commencement of the preceding year. The demand for the +entire Scriptures was great; indeed far greater than I could +answer, as the books were disposed of faster than they could be +bound by the man whom I employed for that purpose. +Eight-and-twenty copies were bespoken and paid for before +delivery. Many of these Bibles found their way into the +best houses in Madrid. The Marquis of --- had a large +family, but every individual of it, old and young, was in +possession of a Bible, and likewise a Testament, which, strange +to say, were recommended by the chaplain of the house. One +of my most zealous agents in the propagation of the Bible was an +ecclesiastic. He never walked out without carrying one +beneath his gown, which he offered to the first person he met +whom he thought likely to purchase. Another excellent +assistant was an elderly gentleman of Navarre, enormously rich, +who was continually purchasing copies on his own account, which +he, as I was told, sent into his native province, for +distribution amongst his friends and the poor.</p> +<p>On a certain night I had retired to rest rather more early +than usual, being slightly indisposed. I soon fell asleep, +and had continued so for some hours, when I was suddenly aroused +by the opening of the door of the small apartment in which I +lay. I started up, and beheld Maria Diaz, with a lamp in +her hand, enter the room. I observed that her features, +which were in general peculiarly calm and placid, wore a somewhat +startled expression. “What is the hour, and what +brings you here?” I demanded.</p> +<p>“<i>Señor</i>,” said she, closing the door, +and coming up to the bedside, “it is close upon midnight; +but a <a name="page236"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +236</span>messenger belonging to the police has just entered the +house, and demanded to see you. I told him that it was +impossible, for that your worship was in bed. Whereupon he +sneezed in my face, and said that he would see you if you were in +your coffin. He has all the look of a goblin, and has +thrown me into a tremor. I am far from being a timid +person, as you are aware, <i>Don Jorge</i>; but I confess that I +never cast my eyes on these wretches of the police, but my heart +dies away within me! I know them but too well, and what +they are capable of.”</p> +<p>“Pooh,” said I, “be under no apprehension; +let him come in, I fear him not, whether he be <i>alguazil</i> or +hobgoblin. <a name="citation236"></a><a href="#footnote236" +class="citation">[236]</a> Stand, however, at the doorway, +that you may be a witness of what takes place, as it is more than +probable that he comes at this unseasonable hour to create a +disturbance, that he may have an opportunity of making an +unfavourable report to his principals, like the fellow on the +former occasion.”</p> +<p>The hostess left the apartment, and I heard her say a word or +two to some one in the passage, whereupon there was a loud +sneeze, and in a moment after a singular figure appeared at the +doorway. It was that of a very old man, with long white +hair, which escaped from beneath the eaves of an exceedingly +high-peaked hat. He stooped considerably, and moved along +with a shambling gait. I could not see much of his face, +which, as the landlady stood behind him with the lamp, was +consequently in deep shadow. I could observe, however, that +his eyes sparkled like those of a ferret. He advanced to +the foot of the bed, in which I was <a name="page237"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 237</span>still lying, wondering what this +strange visit could mean; and there he stood gazing at me for a +minute, at least, without uttering a syllable. Suddenly, +however, he protruded a spare skinny hand from the cloak in which +it had hitherto been enveloped, and pointed with a short staff, +tipped with metal, in the direction of my face, as if he were +commencing an exorcism. He appeared to be about to speak, +but his words, if he intended any, were stifled in their birth by +a sudden sternutation which escaped him, and which was so violent +that the hostess started back, exclaiming, “<i>Ave Maria +purísima</i>!” and nearly dropped the lamp in her +alarm.</p> +<p>“My good person,” said I, “what do you mean +by this foolish hobgoblinry? If you have anything to +communicate do so at once, and go about your business. I am +unwell, and you are depriving me of my repose.”</p> +<p>“By the virtue of this staff,” said the old man, +“and the authority which it gives me to do and say that +which is convenient, I do command, order, and summon you to +appear to-morrow, at the eleventh hour, at the office of my lord +the <i>corregidor</i> of this village of Madrid, <a +name="citation237"></a><a href="#footnote237" +class="citation">[237]</a> in order that, standing before him +humbly, and with befitting reverence, you may listen to whatever +he may have to say, or, if necessary, may yield yourself up to +receive the castigation of any crimes which you may have +committed, whether trivial or enormous. <i>Tenez</i>, +<i>compère</i>,” he added, in most villanous French, +“<i>voilà mon affaire</i>; <i>voilà ce que je +viens vous dire</i>.”</p> +<p>Thereupon he glared at me for a moment, nodded his head twice, +and replacing his staff beneath his <a name="page238"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 238</span>cloak, shambled out of the room, and +with a valedictory sneeze in the passage left the house.</p> +<p>Precisely at eleven on the following day I attended at the +office of the <i>corregidor</i>. He was not the individual +whose anger I had incurred on a former occasion, and who had +thought proper to imprison me, but another person, I believe a +Catalan, whose name I have also forgotten. Indeed, these +civil employments were at this period given to-day and taken away +tomorrow, so that the person who held one of them for a month +might consider himself a functionary of long standing. I +was not kept waiting a moment, but as soon as I had announced +myself, was forthwith ushered into the presence of the +<i>corregidor</i>—a good-looking, portly, and well-dressed +personage, seemingly about fifty. He was writing at a desk +when I entered, but almost immediately arose and came towards +me. He looked me full in the face, and I, nothing abashed, +kept my eyes fixed upon his. He had, perhaps, expected a +less independent bearing, and that I should have quaked and +crouched before him; but now, conceiving himself bearded in his +own den, his old Spanish leaven was forthwith stirred up. +He plucked his whiskers fiercely. +“<i>Escuchad</i>,” said he, casting upon me a +ferocious glance, “I wish to ask you a question.”</p> +<p>“Before I answer any question of your excellency,” +said I, “I shall take the liberty of putting one +myself. What law or reason is there that I, a peaceable +individual and a foreigner, should have my rest disturbed by +<i>duendes</i> and hobgoblins sent at midnight to summon me to +appear at public offices like a criminal?”</p> +<p>“You do not speak the truth,” shouted the +<i>corregidor</i>; “the person sent to summon you was +neither <i>duende</i> nor hobgoblin, but one of the most ancient +<a name="page239"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 239</span>and +respectable officers of this <i>casa</i>, and so far from being +despatched at midnight, it wanted twenty-five minutes to that +hour by my own watch when he left this office, and as your +lodging is not distant, he must have arrived there at least ten +minutes before midnight, so that you are by no means accurate, +and are found wanting in regard to truth.”</p> +<p>“A distinction without a difference,” I +replied. “For my own part, if I am to be disturbed in +my sleep, it is of little consequence whether at midnight or ten +minutes before that time; and with respect to your messenger, +although he might not be a hobgoblin, he had all the appearance +of one, and assuredly answered the purpose, by frightening the +woman of the house almost into fits by his hideous grimaces and +sneezing convulsions.”</p> +<p><i>Corregidor</i>.—You are a—I know not +what. Do you know that I have the power to imprison +you?</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—You have twenty <i>alguazils</i> at your +beck and call, and have of course the power, and so had your +predecessor, who nearly lost his situation by imprisoning me; but +you know full well that you have not the right, as I am not under +your jurisdiction, but that of the captain-general. If I +have obeyed your summons, it was simply because I had a curiosity +to know what you wanted with me, and from no other motive +whatever. As for imprisoning me, I beg leave to assure you, +that you have my full consent to do so; the most polite society +in Madrid is to be found in the prison, and as I am at present +compiling a vocabulary of the language of the Madrilenian +thieves, I should have, in being imprisoned, an excellent +opportunity of completing it. There is much to be <a +name="page240"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 240</span>learnt even +in the prison, for, as the gypsies say, “The dog that trots +about finds a bone.” <a name="citation240"></a><a +href="#footnote240" class="citation">[240]</a></p> +<p><i>Corregidor</i>.—Your words are not those of a +<i>caballero</i>. Do you forget where you are, and in whose +presence? Is this a fitting place to talk of thieves and +gypsies in?</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—Really I know of no place more fitting, +unless it be the prison. But we are wasting time, and I am +anxious to know for what I have been summoned; whether for crimes +trivial or enormous, as the messenger said.</p> +<p>It was a long time before I could obtain the required +information from the incensed <i>corregidor</i>; at last, +however, it came. It appeared that a box of Testaments, +which I had despatched to Naval Carnero, had been seized by the +local authorities, and having been detained there for some time, +was at last sent back to Madrid, intended, as it now appeared, +for the hands of the <i>corregidor</i>. One day as it was +lying at the waggon-office, Antonio chanced to enter on some +business of his own and recognized the box, which he instantly +claimed as my property, and having paid the carriage, removed it +to my warehouse. He had considered the matter as of so +little importance, that he had not as yet mentioned it to +me. The poor <i>corregidor</i>, however, had no doubt that +it was a deep-laid scheme to plunder and insult him. And +now, working himself up into almost a frenzy of excitement, he +stamped on the ground, exclaiming, “<i>Que +picardia</i>! <i>Que infamia</i>!”</p> +<p>The old system, thought I, of prejudging people, and imputing +to them motives and actions of which they never dreamed. I +then told him frankly that I was <a name="page241"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 241</span>entirely ignorant of the +circumstance by which he had felt himself aggrieved; but that if, +upon inquiry, I found that the chest had actually been removed by +my servant from the office to which it had been forwarded, I +would cause it forthwith to be restored, although it was my own +property. “I have plenty more Testaments,” said +I, “and can afford to lose fifty or a hundred. I am a +man of peace, and wish not to have any dispute with the +authorities for the sake of an old chest and a cargo of books, +whose united value would scarcely amount to forty +dollars.”</p> +<p>He looked at me for a moment, as if in doubt of my sincerity, +then, again plucking his whiskers, he forthwith proceeded to +attack me in another quarter: “<i>Pero que infamia</i>, +<i>que picardia</i>! to come into Spain for the purpose of +overturning the religion of the country. What would you say +if the Spaniards were to go to England and attempt to overturn +the Lutheranism established there?”</p> +<p>“They would be most heartily welcome,” I replied; +“more especially if they would attempt to do so by +circulating the Bible, the book of Christians, even as the +English are doing in Spain. But your excellency is not +perhaps aware that the Pope has a fair field and fair play in +England, and is permitted to make as many converts from +Lutheranism every day in the week as are disposed to go over to +him. He cannot boast, however, of much success; the people +are too fond of light to embrace darkness, and would smile at the +idea of exchanging their Gospel privileges for the superstitious +ceremonies and observances of the Church of Rome.”</p> +<p>On my repeating my promise that the books and chest should be +forthwith restored, the <i>corregidor</i> <a +name="page242"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 242</span>declared +himself satisfied, and all of a sudden became excessively polite +and condescending: he even went so far as to say that he left it +entirely with myself, whether to return the books or not; +“and,” continued he, “before you go, I wish to +tell you that my private opinion is, that it is highly advisable +in all countries to allow full and perfect tolerance in religious +matters, and to permit every religious system to stand or fall +according to its own merits.”</p> +<p>Such were the concluding words of the <i>corregidor</i> of +Madrid, which, whether they expressed his private opinion or not, +were certainly grounded on sense and reason. I saluted him +respectfully and retired, and forthwith performed my promise with +regard to the books; and thus terminated this affair.</p> +<p>It almost appeared to me at this time that a religious reform +was commencing in Spain; indeed, matters had of late come to my +knowledge, which, had they been prophesied only a year before, I +should have experienced much difficulty in believing.</p> +<p>The reader will be surprised when I state that, in two +churches of Madrid, the New Testament was regularly expounded +every Sunday evening, by the respective curates, to about twenty +children who attended, and who were all provided with copies of +the society’s edition of Madrid, 1837. <a +name="citation242a"></a><a href="#footnote242a" +class="citation">[242a]</a> The churches which I allude to +were those of San Gines and Santa Cruz. <a +name="citation242b"></a><a href="#footnote242b" +class="citation">[242b]</a> Now, I humbly conceive that +this fact alone is more than equivalent to all the expense which +the <a name="page243"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +243</span>society had incurred in the efforts which it had been +making to introduce the Gospel into Spain; but be this as it may, +I am certain that it amply recompensed me for all the anxiety and +unhappiness which I had undergone. I now felt that whenever +I should be compelled to discontinue my labours in the Peninsula, +I should retire without the slightest murmur, my heart being +filled with gratitude to the Lord for having permitted me, +useless vessel as I was, to see at least some of the seed +springing up, which during two years I had been casting on the +stony ground of the interior of Spain.</p> +<p>When I recollected the difficulties which had encompassed our +path, I could sometimes hardly credit all that the Almighty had +permitted us to accomplish within the last year. A large +edition of the New Testament had been almost entirely disposed of +in the very centre of Spain, in spite of the opposition and the +furious cry of the sanguinary priesthood and the edicts of a +deceitful government, and a spirit of religious inquiry excited, +which I had fervent hope would sooner or later lead to blessed +and most important results. Till of late the name most +abhorred and dreaded in these parts of Spain was that of Martin +Luther, who was in general considered as a species of demon, a +cousin-german to Belial and Beelzebub, who, under the disguise of +a man, wrote and preached blasphemy against the Highest; yet now, +strange to say, this once abominated personage was spoken of with +no slight degree of respect. People with Bibles in their +hands not unfrequently visited me, inquiring with much +earnestness, and with no slight degree of simplicity, for the +writings of the great Doctor Martin, whom, indeed, some supposed +to be still alive.</p> +<p><a name="page244"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 244</span>It +will be as well here to observe, that of all the names connected +with the Reformation, that of Luther is the only one known in +Spain; and let me add, that no controversial writings but his are +likely to be esteemed as possessing the slightest weight or +authority, however great their intrinsic merit may be. The +common description of tracts, written with the view of exposing +the errors of Popery, are therefore not calculated to prove of +much benefit in Spain, though it is probable that much good might +be accomplished by well executed translations of judicious +selections from the works of Luther.</p> +<h2><a name="page245"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +245</span>CHAPTER XLVIII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Projected Journey—A Scene of +Blood—The Friar—Seville—Beauties of +Seville—Orange Trees and Flowers—Murillo—The +Guardian Angel—Dionysius—My Coadjutors—Demand +for the Bible.</p> +<p>By the middle of April I had sold as many Testaments as I +thought Madrid would bear: I therefore called in my people, for I +was afraid to overstock the market, and to bring the book into +contempt by making it too common. I had, indeed, by this +time, barely a thousand copies remaining of the edition which I +had printed two years previously; and with respect to Bibles, +every copy was by this time disposed of, though there was still a +great demand for them, which, of course, I was unable to +satisfy.</p> +<p>With the remaining copies of the Testament, I now determined +to betake myself to Seville, where little had hitherto been +effected in the way of circulation: my preparations were soon +made. The roads were at this time in a highly dangerous +state, on which account I thought to go along with a convoy, +which was about to start for Andalusia. Two days, however, +before its departure, understanding that the number of people who +likewise proposed to avail themselves of it was likely to be very +great, and reflecting on the <a name="page246"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 246</span>slowness of this way of travelling, +and moreover the insults to which civilians were frequently +subjected from the soldiers and petty officers, I determined to +risk the journey with the mail. This resolution I carried +into effect. Antonio, whom I had resolved to take with me, +and my two horses, departed with the convoy, whilst in a few days +I followed with the mail courier. We travelled all the way +without the slightest accident, my usual wonderful good fortune +accompanying us. I might well call it wonderful, for I was +running into the den of a lion; the whole of La Mancha, with the +exception of a few fortified places, being once more in the hands +of Palillos and his banditti, who, whenever it pleased them, +stopped the courier, burnt the vehicle and letters, murdered the +paltry escort, and carried away any chance passenger to the +mountains, where an enormous ransom was demanded, the alternative +being four shots through the head, as the Spaniards say.</p> +<p>The upper part of Andalusia was becoming rapidly nearly as bad +as La Mancha. The last time the mail had passed, it was +attacked at the defile of La Rumblar <a name="citation246"></a><a +href="#footnote246" class="citation">[246]</a> by six mounted +robbers; it was guarded by an escort of as many soldiers, but the +former suddenly galloped from behind a solitary <i>venta</i>, and +dashed the soldiers to the ground, who were taken quite by +surprise, the hoofs of the robbers’ horses making no noise +on account of the sandy nature of the ground. The <a +name="page247"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 247</span>soldiers +were instantly disarmed and bound to olive trees, with the +exception of two, who escaped amongst the rocks; they were then +mocked and tormented by the robbers, or rather fiends, for nearly +half an hour, when they were shot; the head of the corporal who +commanded being blown to fragments with a blunderbuss. The +robbers then burned the coach, which they accomplished by +igniting the letters by means of the tow with which they light +their cigars. The life of the courier was saved by one of +them, who had formerly been his postilion; he was, however, +robbed and stripped. As we passed by the scene of the +butchery, the poor fellow wept, and, though a Spaniard, cursed +Spain and the Spaniards, saying that he intended shortly to pass +over to the Moreria, to confess Mahomet, and to learn the law of +the Moors, for that any country and religion were better than his +own. He pointed to the tree where the corporal had been +tied; though much rain had fallen since, the ground around was +still saturated with blood, and a dog was gnawing a piece of the +unfortunate wretch’s skull. A friar travelled with us +the whole way from Madrid to Seville; he was of the missionaries, +and was going to the Philippine Islands, to conquer (<i>para +conquistar</i>), for such was his word, by which I suppose he +meant preaching to the Indians. During the whole journey he +exhibited every symptom of the most abject fear, which operated +upon him so that he became deadly sick, and we were obliged to +stop twice in the road, and lay him amongst the green corn. +He said that if he fell into the hands of the factious, he was a +lost priest, for that they would first make him say Mass, and +then blow him up with gunpowder. He had been professor of +philosophy, as he told me, in one of <a name="page248"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 248</span>the convents (I think it was San +Tomas) of Madrid before their suppression, but appeared to be +grossly ignorant of the Scriptures, which he confounded with the +works of Virgil.</p> +<p>We stopped at Manzanares as usual; it was Sunday morning, and +the market-place was crowded with people. I was recognized +in a moment, and twenty pair of legs instantly hurried away in +quest of the prophetess, who presently made her appearance in the +house to which we had retired to breakfast. After many +greetings on both sides, she proceeded, in her Latin, to give me +an account of all that had occurred in the village since I had +last been there, and of the atrocities of the factious in the +neighbourhood. I asked her to breakfast, and introduced her +to the friar, whom she addressed in this manner: “<i>Anne +Domine Reverendissime facis adhuc sacrificium</i>?” <a +name="citation248"></a><a href="#footnote248" +class="citation">[248]</a> But the friar did not understand +her, and, waxing angry, anathematized her for a witch, and bade +her begone. She was, however, not to be disconcerted, and +commenced singing, in extemporary Castilian verse, the praises of +friars and religious houses in general. On departing I gave +her a <i>peseta</i>, upon which she burst into tears, and +entreated that I would write to her if I reached Seville in +safety.</p> +<p>We did arrive at Seville in safety, and I took leave of the +friar, telling him that I hoped to meet him again at +Philippi. As it was my intention to remain at Seville for +some months, I determined to hire a house, in which I conceived I +could live with <a name="page249"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +249</span>more privacy, and at the same time more economically, +than in a <i>posada</i>. It was not long before I found one +in every respect suited to me. It was situated in the +Plazuela de la Pila Seca, a retired part of the city in the +neighbourhood of the cathedral, and at a short distance from the +gate of Xeres; and in this house, on the arrival of Antonio and +the horses, which occurred within a few days, I took up my +abode.</p> +<p>I was now once more in beautiful Seville, and had soon ample +time and leisure to enjoy its delights and those of the +surrounding country. Unfortunately, at the time of my +arrival, and indeed for the next ensuing fortnight, the heaven of +Andalusia, in general so glorious, was overcast with black +clouds, which discharged tremendous showers of rain, such as few +of the Sevillians, according to their own account, had ever seen +before. This extraordinary weather had wrought no little +damage in the neighbourhood, causing the Guadalquivir, which, +during the rainy season, is a rapid and furious stream, to +overflow its banks, and to threaten an inundation. It is +true that intervals were occurring when the sun made his +appearance from his cloudy tabernacle, and with his golden rays +caused everything around to smile, enticing the butterfly forth +from the bush, and the lizard from the hollow tree, and I +invariably availed myself of these intervals to take a hasty +promenade.</p> +<p>Oh how pleasant it is, especially in springtide, to stray +along the shores of the Guadalquivir! Not far from the +city, down the river, lies a grove called <i>Las Delicias</i>, or +“The Delights.” It consists of trees of various +kinds, but more especially of poplars and <a +name="page250"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 250</span>elms, and +is traversed by long shady walks. This grove is the +favourite promenade of the Sevillians, and there one occasionally +sees assembled whatever the town produces of beauty or +gallantry. There wander the black-eyed Andalusian dames and +damsels, clad in their graceful silken <i>mantillas</i>; and +there gallops the Andalusian cavalier, on his long-tailed +thick-maned steed of Moorish ancestry. As the sun is +descending, it is enchanting to glance back from this place in +the direction of the city; the prospect is inexpressibly +beautiful. Yonder in the distance, high and enormous, +stands the Golden Tower, now used as a toll-house, but the +principal bulwark of the city in the time of the Moors. It +stands on the shore of the river, like a giant keeping watch, and +is the first edifice which attracts the eye of the voyager as he +moves up the stream to Seville. On the other side, opposite +the tower, stands the noble Augustine convent, the ornament of +the <i>faubourg</i> of Triana, whilst between the two edifices +rolls the broad Guadalquivir, bearing on its bosom a flotilla of +barks from Catalonia and Valencia. Further up is seen the +bridge of boats, which traverses the water. The principal +object of this prospect, however, is the Golden Tower, where the +beams of the setting sun seem to be concentrated as in a focus, +so that it appears built of pure gold, and probably from that +circumstance received the name which it now bears. Cold, +cold must the heart be which can remain insensible to the +beauties of this magic scene, to do justice to which the pencil +of Claude himself were barely equal. Often have I shed +tears of rapture whilst I beheld it, and listened to the thrush +and the nightingale piping forth their melodious songs in <a +name="page251"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 251</span>the woods, +and inhaled the breeze laden with the perfume of the thousand +orange gardens of Seville:</p> +<blockquote><p>“Kennst du das Land wo die Citronen +blühen?” <a name="citation251a"></a><a +href="#footnote251a" class="citation">[251a]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>The interior of Seville scarcely corresponds with the +exterior; the streets are narrow, badly paved, and full of misery +and beggary. The houses are, for the most part, built in +the Moorish fashion, with a quadrangular <i>patio</i>, or court, +in the centre, where stands a marble fountain, constantly +distilling limpid water. These courts, during the time of +the summer heats, are covered over with a canvas awning, and +beneath this the family sit during the greater part of the +day. In many, especially those belonging to the houses of +the wealthy, are to be found shrubs, orange trees, and all kinds +of flowers, and perhaps a small aviary, so that no situation can +be conceived more delicious than to lie here in the shade, +hearkening to the song of the birds and the voice of the +fountain.</p> +<p>Nothing is more calculated to interest the stranger as he +wanders through Seville, than a view of these courts, obtained +from the street through the iron-grated door. Oft have I +stopped to observe them, and as often sighed that my fate did not +permit me to reside in such an Eden for the remainder of my +days. On a former occasion I have spoken of the cathedral +of Seville, but only in a brief and cursory manner. <a +name="citation251b"></a><a href="#footnote251b" +class="citation">[251b]</a> It is, perhaps, the most +magnificent cathedral in all Spain, and though not so regular in +its architecture as those of Toledo and Burgos, is far <a +name="page252"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 252</span>more worthy +of admiration when considered as a whole. It is utterly +impossible to wander through the long aisles, and to raise +one’s eyes to the richly inlaid roof, supported by colossal +pillars, without experiencing sensations of sacred awe and deep +astonishment. It is true that the interior, like those of +the generality of the Spanish cathedrals, is somewhat dark and +gloomy; yet it loses nothing by this gloom, which, on the +contrary, rather increases the solemnity of the effect. +Notre Dame of Paris is a noble building, yet to him who has seen +the Spanish cathedrals, and particularly this of Seville, it +almost appears trivial and mean, and more like a town-hall than a +temple of the Eternal. The Parisian cathedral is entirely +destitute of that solemn darkness and gloomy pomp which so abound +in the Sevillian, and is thus destitute of the principal +requisite to a cathedral.</p> +<p>In most of the chapels are to be found some of the very best +pictures of the Spanish school; and, in particular, many of the +master-pieces of Murillo, a native of Seville. Of all the +pictures of this extraordinary man, one of the least celebrated +is that which has always wrought on me the most profound +impression. I allude to the Guardian Angel, <i>El Angel de +la Guardia</i>, a small picture which stands at the bottom of the +church, and looks up the principal aisle. The angel, +holding a flaming sword in his right hand, is conducting the +child: this child is, in my opinion, the most wonderful of all +the creations of Murillo; the form is that of an infant about +five years of age, and the expression of the countenance is quite +infantine, but the tread—it is the tread of a conqueror, of +a God, of the Creator of the universe; and the earthly globe +appears to tremble beneath its majesty.</p> +<p><a name="page253"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 253</span>The +service of the cathedral is in general well attended, especially +when it is known that a sermon is to be preached. All these +sermons are extemporaneous; some of them are edifying, and +faithful to the Scriptures. I have often listened to them +with pleasure, though I was much surprised to remark, that when +the preachers quoted from the Bible, their quotations were almost +invariably taken from the apocryphal writings. There is in +general no lack of worshippers at the principal +shrines—women for the most part—many of whom appear +to be animated with the most fervent devotion.</p> +<p>I had flattered myself, previous to my departure from Madrid, +that I should experience but little difficulty in the circulation +of the Gospel in Andalusia, at least for a time, as the field was +new, and myself and the object of my mission less known and +dreaded than in New Castile. It appeared, however, that the +government at Madrid had fulfilled its threat, transmitting +orders throughout Spain for the seizure of my books wherever +found. The Testaments that arrived from Madrid were seized +at the custom-house, to which place all goods on their arrival, +even from the interior, are carried, in order that a duty be +imposed upon them. Through the management of Antonio, +however, I procured one of the two chests, whilst the other was +sent down to San Lucar, to be embarked for a foreign land as soon +as I could make arrangements for that purpose.</p> +<p>I did not permit myself to be discouraged by this slight +<i>contretemps</i>, although I heartily regretted the loss of the +books which had been seized, and which I could no longer hope to +circulate in these parts, where they were so much wanted; but I +consoled myself <a name="page254"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +254</span>with the reflection, that I had still several hundred +at my disposal, from the distribution of which, if it pleased the +Lord, a blessed harvest might still proceed.</p> +<p>I did not commence operations for some time, for I was in a +strange place, and scarcely knew what course to pursue. I +had no one to assist me but poor Antonio, who was as ignorant of +the place as myself. Providence, however, soon sent me a +coadjutor in rather a singular manner. I was standing in +the courtyard of the Reyna Posada, where I occasionally dined, +when a man, singularly dressed and gigantically tall, +entered. My curiosity was excited, and I inquired of the +master of the house who he was. He informed me that he was +a foreigner, who had resided a considerable time in Seville, and +he believed a Greek. Upon hearing this, I instantly went up +to the stranger, and accosted him in the Greek language, in +which, though I speak it very ill, I can make myself +understood. He replied in the same idiom, and, flattered by +the interest which I, a foreigner, expressed for his nation, was +not slow in communicating to me his history. He told me +that his name was Dionysius, that he was a native of Cephalonia, +and had been educated for the Church, which, not suiting his +temper, he had abandoned, in order to follow the profession of +the sea, for which he had an early inclination. That after +many adventures and changes of fortune, he found himself one +morning on the coast of Spain, a shipwrecked mariner, and that, +ashamed to return to his own country in poverty and distress, he +had remained in the Peninsula, residing chiefly in Seville, where +he now carried on a small trade in books. He said that he +was of the <a name="page255"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +255</span>Greek religion, to which he professed strong +attachment, and, soon discovering that I was a Protestant, spoke +with unbounded abhorrence of the papal system; nay, of its +followers in general, whom he called Latins, and whom he charged +with the ruin of his own country, inasmuch as they sold it to the +Turk. It instantly struck me, that this individual would be +an excellent assistant in the work which had brought me to +Seville, namely, the propagation of the eternal Gospel; and, +accordingly, after some more conversation, in which he exhibited +considerable learning, I explained myself to him. He +entered into my views with eagerness, and, in the sequel, I had +no reason to regret my confidence, he having disposed of a +considerable number of New Testaments, and even contrived to send +a certain number of copies to two small towns at some distance +from Seville.</p> +<p>Another helper in the circulation of the Gospel I found in an +aged professor of music, who, with much stiffness and +ceremoniousness, united much that was excellent and +admirable. This venerable individual, only three days after +I had made his acquaintance, brought me the price of six +Testaments and a Gypsy Gospel, which he had sold under the heat +of an Andalusian sun. What was his motive? A +Christian one truly. He said that his unfortunate +countrymen, who were then robbing and murdering each other, might +probably be rendered better by the reading of the Gospel, but +could never be injured. Adding, that many a man had been +reformed by the Scriptures, but that no one ever yet became a +thief or assassin from its perusal.</p> +<p>But my most extraordinary agent was one whom I occasionally +employed in circulating the Scriptures <a +name="page256"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 256</span>amongst the +lower classes. I might have turned the services of this +individual to far greater account had the quantity of books at my +disposal been greater; but they were now diminishing rapidly, and +as I had no hopes of a fresh supply, I was almost tempted to be +niggard of the few which remained. This agent was a Greek +bricklayer, by name Johannes Chrysostom, who had been introduced +to me by Dionysius. He was a native of the Morea, but had +been upwards of thirty-five years in Spain, so that he had almost +entirely lost his native language. Nevertheless, his +attachment to his own country was so strong that he considered +whatever was not Greek as utterly barbarous and bad. Though +entirely destitute of education, he had, by his strength of +character and by a kind of rude eloquence which he possessed, +obtained such a mastery over the minds of the labouring classes +of Seville, that they assented to almost everything he said, +notwithstanding the shocks which their prejudices were +continually receiving. So that, although he was a +foreigner, he could at any time have become the Masaniello <a +name="citation256"></a><a href="#footnote256" +class="citation">[256]</a> of Seville. A more honest +creature I never saw, and I soon found that if I employed him, +notwithstanding his eccentricities, I might entertain perfect +confidence that his actions would be no disparagement to the book +he vended.</p> +<p>We were continually pressed for Bibles, which of course we +could not supply. Testaments were held in comparatively +little esteem. I had by this time made the discovery of a +fact which it would have <a name="page257"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 257</span>been well had I been aware of three +years before: but we live and learn. I mean the +inexpediency of printing Testaments, and Testaments <i>alone</i>, +for Catholic countries. The reason is plain: the Catholic, +unused to Scripture reading, finds a thousand things which he +cannot possibly understand in the New Testament, the foundation +of which is the Old. “Search the Scriptures, for they +bear witness of me,” may well be applied to this +point. It may be replied, that New Testaments separate are +in great demand and of infinite utility in England; but England, +thanks be to the Lord, is not a papal country; and though an +English labourer may read a Testament, and derive from it the +most blessed fruit, it does not follow that a Spanish or Italian +peasant will enjoy similar success, as he will find many dark +things with which the other is well acquainted, and competent to +understand, being versed in the Bible history from his +childhood. I confess, however, that in my summer campaign +of the preceding year, I could not have accomplished with Bibles +what Providence permitted me to effect with Testaments, the +former being far too bulky for rural journeys.</p> +<h2><a name="page258"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +258</span>CHAPTER XLIX.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">The Solitary House—The +Dehesa—Johannes Chrysostom—Manuel—Bookselling +at Seville—Dionysius and the Priests—Athens and +Rome—Proselytism—Seizure of +Testaments—Departure from Seville.</p> +<p>I have already stated that I had hired an empty house in +Seville, wherein I purposed to reside for some months. It +stood in a solitary situation, occupying one side of a small +square. It was built quite in the beautiful taste of +Andalusia, with a court paved with small slabs of white and blue +marble. In the middle of this court was a fountain well +supplied with the crystal lymph, the murmur of which, as it fell +from its slender pillar into an octangular basin, might be heard +in every apartment. The house itself was large and +spacious, consisting of two stories, and containing room +sufficient for at least ten times the number of inmates which now +occupied it. I generally kept during the day in the lower +apartments, on account of the refreshing coolness which pervaded +them. In one of these was an immense stone water-trough, +ever overflowing with water from the fountain, in which I +immersed myself every morning. Such were the premises to +which, after having provided <a name="page259"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 259</span>myself with a few indispensable +articles of furniture, I now retreated with Antonio and my two +horses.</p> +<p>I was fortunate in the possession of these quadrupeds, +inasmuch as it afforded me an opportunity of enjoying to a +greater extent the beauties of the surrounding country. I +know of few things in this life more delicious than a ride in the +spring or summer season in the neighbourhood of Seville. My +favourite one was in the direction of Xeres, over the wide +Dehesa, as it is called, which extends from Seville to the gates +of the former town, a distance of nearly fifty miles, with +scarcely a town or village intervening. The ground is +irregular and broken, and is for the most part covered with that +species of brushwood called <i>carrasco</i>, amongst which winds +a bridle-path, by no means well defined, chiefly trodden by the +<i>arrieros</i>, with their long trains of mules and +<i>borricos</i>. It is here that the balmy air of beautiful +Andalusia is to be inhaled in full perfection. Aromatic +herbs and flowers are growing in abundance, diffusing their +perfume around. Here dark and gloomy cares are dispelled as +if by magic from the bosom, as the eyes wander over the prospect, +lighted by unequalled sunshine, in which gaily painted +butterflies wanton, and green and golden <i>salamanquesas</i> lie +extended, enjoying the luxurious warmth, and occasionally +startling the traveller, by springing up and making off with +portentous speed to the nearest coverts, whence they stare upon +him with their sharp and lustrous eyes. I repeat, that it +is impossible to continue melancholy in regions like these, and +the ancient Greeks and Romans were right in making them the site +of their Elysian fields. Most beautiful they are, even in +their present desolation, for the hand of man has not <a +name="page260"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 260</span>cultivated +them since the fatal era of the expulsion of the Moors, which +drained Andalusia of at least two-thirds of its population.</p> +<p>Every evening it was my custom to ride along the Dehesa, until +the topmost towers of Seville were no longer in sight. I +then turned about, and pressing my knees against the sides of +Sidi Habismilk, my Arabian, the fleet creature, to whom spur or +lash had never been applied, would set off in the direction of +the town with the speed of a whirlwind, seeming in his headlong +course to devour the ground of the waste, until he had left it +behind, then dashing through the elm-covered road of the +Delicias, his thundering hoofs were soon heard beneath the +vaulted archway of the Puerta de Xeres, and in another moment he +would stand stone-still before the door of my solitary house in +the little silent square of the Pila Seca.</p> +<p>It is eight o’clock at night, I am returned from the +Dehesa, and am standing on the <i>sotea</i>, or flat roof of my +house, enjoying the cool breeze. Johannes Chrysostom has +just arrived from his labour. I have not spoken to him, but +I hear him below in the courtyard, detailing to Antonio the +progress he has made in the last two days. He speaks +barbarous Greek, plentifully interlarded with Spanish words; but +I gather from his discourse, that he has already sold twelve +Testaments among his fellow-labourers. I hear copper coin +falling on the pavement, and Antonio, who is not of a very +Christian temper, reproving him for not having brought the +proceeds of the sale in silver. He now asks for fifteen +more, as he says the demand is becoming great, and that he shall +have no difficulty in disposing of them in the course of the +morrow, whilst pursuing his occupations. Antonio goes to +fetch them, <a name="page261"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +261</span>and he now stands alone by the marble fountain, singing +a wild song, which I believe to be a hymn of his beloved Greek +Church. Behold one of the helpers which the Lord has sent +me in my Gospel labours on the shores of the Guadalquivir.</p> +<p>I lived in the greatest retirement during the whole time that +I passed at Seville, spending the greater part of each day in +study, or in that half dreamy state of inactivity which is the +natural effect of the influence of a warm climate. There +was little in the character of the people around to induce me to +enter much into society. The higher class of the +Andalusians are probably upon the whole the most vain and foolish +of human beings, with a taste for nothing but sensual amusements, +foppery in dress, and ribald discourse. Their insolence is +only equalled by their meanness, and their prodigality by their +avarice. The lower classes are a shade or two better than +their superiors in station: little, it is true, can be said for +the tone of their morality; they are overreaching, quarrelsome, +and revengeful, but they are upon the whole more courteous, and +certainly not more ignorant.</p> +<p>The Andalusians are in general held in the lowest estimation +by the rest of the Spaniards, even those in opulent circumstances +finding some difficulty at Madrid in procuring admission into +respectable society, where, if they find their way, they are +invariably the objects of ridicule, from the absurd airs and +grimaces in which they indulge,—their tendency to boasting +and exaggeration, their curious accent, and the incorrect manner +in which they speak and pronounce the Castilian language. <a +name="citation261"></a><a href="#footnote261" +class="citation">[261]</a></p> +<p><a name="page262"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 262</span>In a +word, the Andalusians, in all estimable traits of character, are +as far below the other Spaniards as the country which they +inhabit is superior in beauty and fertility to the other +provinces of Spain.</p> +<p>Yet let it not for a moment be supposed that I have any +intention of asserting, that excellent and estimable individuals +are not to be found amongst the Andalusians; it was amongst +<i>them</i> that I myself discovered one, whom I have no +hesitation in asserting to be the most extraordinary character +that has ever come within the sphere of my knowledge; but this +was no scion of a noble or knightly house, “no wearer of +soft clothing,” no sleek highly perfumed personage, none of +the romanticos who walk in languishing attitudes about the +streets of Seville, with long black hair hanging upon their +shoulders in luxuriant curls: but one of those whom the proud and +unfeeling style the dregs of the populace, a haggard, houseless, +penniless man, in rags and tatters. I allude to Manuel, +the—what shall I call him?—seller of lottery tickets, +driver of death carts, or poet laureate in gypsy songs? I +wonder whether thou art still living, my friend Manuel; thou +gentleman of nature’s forming—honest, pure-minded, +humble, yet dignified being! Art thou still wandering +through the courts of beautiful Safacoro, or on the banks of the +Len Baro, <a name="citation262"></a><a href="#footnote262" +class="citation">[262]</a> thine eyes fixed in vacancy, and thy +mind striving to recall some half-forgotten couplet of Luis Lobo; +or art thou gone to thy long rest, out beyond the Xeres gate +within <a name="page263"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +263</span>the wall of the Campo Santo, to which, in times of pest +and sickness, thou wast wont to carry so many, gypsy and Gentile, +in thy cart of the tinkling bell? Oft in the +<i>réunions</i> of the lettered and learned in this land +of universal literature, when weary of the display of pedantry +and egotism, have I recurred with yearning to our gypsy +recitations at the old house in the Pila Seca. Oft, when +sickened by the high-wrought professions of those who bear the +cross in gilded chariots, have I thought on thee, thy calm faith, +without pretence,—thy patience in poverty, and fortitude in +affliction; and as oft, when thinking of my speedily approaching +end, have I wished that I might meet thee once again, and that +thy hands might help to bear me to “the dead man’s +acre” yonder on the sunny plain, O Manuel! <a +name="citation263"></a><a href="#footnote263" +class="citation">[263]</a></p> +<p>My principal visitor was Dionysius, who seldom failed to make +his appearance every forenoon: the poor fellow came for sympathy +and conversation. It is difficult to imagine a situation +more forlorn and isolated than that of this man,—a Greek at +Seville, with scarcely a single acquaintance, and depending for +subsistence on the miserable pittance to be derived from selling +a few books, for the most part hawked about from door to +door. “What could have first induced you to commence +bookselling in Seville?” said I to him, as he arrived one +sultry day, heated and fatigued, with a small bundle of books +secured together by a leather strap.</p> +<p><i>Dionysius</i>.—For want of a better employment, <a +name="page264"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +264</span><i>Kyrie</i>, <a name="citation264a"></a><a +href="#footnote264a" class="citation">[264a]</a> I have adopted +this most unprofitable and despised one. Oft have I +regretted not having been bred up as a shoemaker, or having +learnt in my youth some other useful handicraft, for gladly would +I follow it now. Such, at least, would procure me the +respect of my fellow-creatures, inasmuch as they needed me; but +now all avoid me and look upon me with contempt; for what have I +to offer in this place that any one cares about? Books in +Seville! where no one reads, or at least nothing but new +romances, translated from the French, and obscenity. +Books! Would I were a gypsy and could trim donkeys, for +then I were at least independent and were more respected than I +am at present.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—Of what kind of books does your +stock-in-trade consist?</p> +<p><i>Dionysius</i>.—Of those not likely to suit the +Seville market, <i>Kyrie</i>; books of sterling and intrinsic +value; many of them in ancient Greek, which I picked up upon the +dissolution of the convents, when the contents of the libraries +were hurled into the courtyards, and there sold by the +<i>arroba</i>. I thought at first that I was about to make +a fortune, and in fact my books would be so in any other place; +but here I have offered an Elzevir <a name="citation264b"></a><a +href="#footnote264b" class="citation">[264b]</a> for half a +dollar in vain. I should starve were it not for the +strangers who occasionally purchase of me.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—Seville is a large cathedral city, +abounding with priests and canons; surely some of these +occasionally visit you to make purchases of classic works and +books connected with ecclesiastical literature.</p> +<p><a name="page265"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +265</span><i>Dionysius</i>.—If you think so, <i>Kyrie</i>, +you know little respecting the ecclesiastics of Seville. I +am acquainted with many of them, and can assure you that a tribe +of beings can scarcely be found with a more confirmed aversion to +intellectual pursuits of every kind. Their reading is +confined to newspapers, which they take up in the hope of seeing +that their friend Don Carlos is at length reinstated at Madrid; +but they prefer their chocolate and biscuits, and nap before +dinner, to the wisdom of Plato and the eloquence of Tully. +They occasionally visit me, but it is only to pass away a heavy +hour in chattering nonsense. Once on a time three of them +came, in the hope of making me a convert to their Latin +superstition. “<i>Signor Donatio</i>,” said +they (for so they called me), “how is it that an +unprejudiced person like yourself, a man really with some +pretension to knowledge, can still cling to this absurd religion +of yours? Surely, after having resided so many years in a +civilized country like this of Spain, it is high time to abandon +your half-pagan form of worship, and to enter the bosom of the +Church; now pray be advised, and you shall be none the worse for +it.” “Thank you, gentlemen,” I replied, +“for the interest you take in my welfare; I am always open +to conviction; let us proceed to discuss the subject. What +are the points of my religion which do not meet your +approbation? You are of course well acquainted with all our +dogmas and ceremonies.” “We know nothing about +your religion, <i>Signor Donatio</i>, save that it is a very +absurd one, and therefore it is incumbent upon you, as an +unprejudiced and well-informed man, to renounce it.” +“But, gentlemen, if you know nothing of my religion, why +call it absurd? Surely it is not the part of <a +name="page266"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +266</span>unprejudiced people to disparage that of which they are +ignorant.” “But, <i>Signor Donatio</i>, it is +not the Catholic Apostolic Roman religion, is it?” +“It may be, gentlemen, for what you appear to know of it; +for your information, however, I will tell you that it is not; it +is the Greek Apostolic religion. I do not call it catholic, +for it is absurd to call that catholic which is not universally +acknowledged.” “But, <i>Signor Donatio</i>, +does not the matter speak for itself? What can a set of +ignorant Greek barbarians know about religion? If they set +aside the authority of Rome, whence should they derive any +rational ideas of religion? whence should they get the +Gospel?” “The Gospel, gentlemen? Allow me +to show you a book. Here it is; what is your opinion of +it?” “<i>Signor Donati</i>, what does this +mean? What characters of the devil are these, are they +Moorish? Who is able to understand them?” +“I suppose your worships, being Roman priests, know +something of Latin; if you inspect the title-page to the bottom, +you will find, in the language of your own Church, ‘the +Gospel of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, in the original +Greek,’ of which your Vulgate is merely a translation, and +not a very correct one. With respect to the barbarism of +Greece, it appears that you are not aware that Athens was a city, +and a famed one, centuries before the first mud cabin of Rome was +thatched, and the gypsy vagabonds who first peopled it had +escaped from the hands of justice.” “<i>Signor +Donatio</i>, you are an ignorant heretic, and insolent withal: +<i>what nonsense is this</i>! . . .” But I will not +weary your ears, <i>Kyrie</i>, with all the absurdities which the +poor Latin <i>Papas</i> <a name="citation266"></a><a +href="#footnote266" class="citation">[266]</a> poured into mine; +the burden of <a name="page267"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +267</span>their song being invariably, <i>what nonsense is +this</i>! which was certainly applicable enough to what they +themselves were saying. Seeing, however, that I was more +than their match in religious controversy, they fell foul of my +country. “Spain is a better country than +Greece,” said one. “You never tasted bread +before you came to Spain,” cried another. “And +little enough since,” thought I. “You never +before saw such a city as Seville,” said the third. +But then ensued the best part of the comedy: my visitors chanced +to be natives of three different places; one was of Seville, +another of Utrera, and the third of Miguel Turra, a miserable +village in La Mancha. At the mention of Seville, the other +two instantly began to sing the praises of their respective +places of birth; this brought on comparisons, and a violent +dispute was the consequence. Much abuse passed between +them, whilst I stood by, shrugged my shoulders, and said +<i>tipotas</i>. <a name="citation267"></a><a href="#footnote267" +class="citation">[267]</a> At last, as they were leaving +the house, I said, “Who would have thought, gentlemen, that +the polemics of the Greek and Latin Churches were so closely +connected with the comparative merits of Seville, Utrera, and +Miguel Turra?”</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>.—Is the spirit of proselytism very +prevalent here? Of what description of people do their +converts generally consist?</p> +<p><i>Dionysius</i>.—I will tell you, <i>Kyrie</i>; the +generality of their converts consist of German or English +Protestant adventurers, who come here to settle, and in course of +time take to themselves wives from amongst the Spanish, prior to +which it is necessary to become members of the Latin +Church. A few are vagabond Jews, from Gibraltar or Tangier, +who have fled for <a name="page268"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +268</span>their crimes into Spain, and who renounce their faith +to escape from starvation. These gentry, however, it is +necessary to pay, on which account the priests procure for them +<i>padrinos</i>, or godfathers; these generally consist of rich +devotees over whom the priests have influence, and who esteem it +a glory and a meritorious act to assist in bringing back lost +souls to the Church. The neophyte allows himself to be +convinced on the promise of a <i>peseta</i> a day, which is +generally paid by the godfathers for the first year, but seldom +for a longer period. About forty years ago, however, they +made a somewhat notable convert. A civil war arose in +Morocco, caused by the separate pretensions of two brothers to +the throne. One of these being worsted, fled over to Spain, +imploring the protection of Charles IV. He soon became an +object of particular attention to the priests, who were not slow +in converting him, and induced Charles to settle upon him a +pension of a dollar per day. He died some few years since +in Seville, a despised vagabond. He left behind him a son, +who is at present a notary, and outwardly very devout, but a +greater hypocrite and <i>picaron</i> does not exist. I +would you could see his face, <i>Kyrie</i>, it is that of Judas +Iscariot. I think you would say so, for you are a +physiognomist. He lives next door to me, and +notwithstanding his pretensions to religion, is permitted to +remain in a state of great poverty.</p> +<p>And now nothing further for the present about Dionysius.</p> +<p>About the middle of July our work was concluded at Seville, +and for the very efficient reason that I had no more Testaments +to sell; somewhat more than two hundred having been circulated +since my arrival.</p> +<p><a name="page269"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 269</span>About +ten days before the time of which I am speaking, I was visited by +various <i>alguazils</i>, accompanied by a kind of headborough, +who made a small seizure of Testaments and gypsy Gospels, which +happened to be lying about. This visit was far from being +disagreeable to me, as I considered it to be a very satisfactory +proof of the effect of our exertions in Seville. I cannot +help here relating an anecdote:—A day or two subsequent, +having occasion to call at the house of the headborough +respecting my passport, I found him lying on his bed, for it was +the hour of <i>siesta</i>, reading intently one of the Testaments +which he had taken away, all of which, if he had obeyed his +orders, would have been deposited in the office of the civil +governor. So intently, indeed, was he engaged in reading, +that he did not at first observe my entrance; when he did, +however, he sprang up in great confusion, and locked the book up +in his cabinet, whereupon I smiled, and told him to be under no +alarm, as I was glad to see him so usefully employed. +Recovering himself, he said that he had read the book nearly +through, and that he had found no harm in it, but, on the +contrary, everything to praise. Adding, he believed that +the clergy must be possessed with devils (<i>endemoniados</i>) to +persecute it in the manner they did.</p> +<p>It was Sunday when the seizure was made, and I happened to be +reading the Liturgy. One of the <i>alguazils</i>, when +going away, made an observation respecting the very different +manner in which the Protestants and Catholics keep the Sabbath; +the former being in their own houses reading good books, and the +latter abroad in the bull-ring, seeing the wild bulls tear out +the gory bowels of the poor horses. <a +name="page270"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 270</span>The bull +amphitheatre at Seville is the finest in all Spain, and is +invariably on a Sunday (the only day on which it is open) filled +with applauding multitudes.</p> +<p>I now made preparations for leaving Seville for a few months, +my destination being the coast of Barbary. Antonio, who did +not wish to leave Spain, in which were his wife and children, +returned to Madrid, rejoicing in a handsome gratuity with which I +presented him. As it was my intention to return to Seville, +I left my house and horses in the charge of a friend in whom I +could confide, and departed.</p> +<p>The reasons which induced me to visit Barbary will be seen in +the following chapters.</p> +<h2><a name="page271"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +271</span>CHAPTER L.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Night on the Guadalquivir—Gospel +Light—Bonanza—Strand of San Lucar—Andalusian +Scenery—History of a Chest—Cosas de los +Ingleses—The Two Gypsies—The Driver—The Red +Nightcap—The Steam-Boat—Christian Language.</p> +<p>On the night of the 31st of July I departed from Seville upon +my expedition, going on board one of the steamers which ply on +the Guadalquivir between Seville and Cadiz.</p> +<p>It was my intention to stop at San Lucar, for the purpose of +recovering the chest of Testaments which had been placed in +embargo there, until such time as they could be removed from the +kingdom of Spain. These Testaments I intended for +distribution amongst the Christians whom I hoped to meet on the +shores of Barbary. San Lucar is about fifteen leagues +distant from Seville, at the entrance of the bay of Cadiz, where +the yellow waters of the Guadalquivir unite with the brine. +The steamer shot from the little quay, or wharf, at about +half-past nine, and then arose a loud cry—it was the voices +of those on board and on shore wishing farewell to their +friends. Amongst the tumult I thought I could distinguish +the accents of some friends of my own who had accompanied me to +the <a name="page272"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +272</span>bank, and I instantly raised my own voice louder than +all. The night was very dark, so much so, indeed, that as +we passed along we could scarcely distinguish the trees which +cover the eastern shore of the river until it takes its first +turn. A <i>calmazo</i> had reigned during the day at +Seville, by which is meant exceedingly sultry weather, +unenlivened by the slightest breeze. The night likewise was +calm and sultry. As I had frequently made the voyage of the +Guadalquivir, ascending and descending this celebrated river, I +felt nothing of that restlessness and curiosity which people +experience in a strange place, whether in light or darkness, and +being acquainted with none of the other passengers, who were +talking on the deck, I thought my best plan would be to retire to +the cabin and enjoy some rest, if possible. The cabin was +solitary and tolerably cool, all its windows on either side being +open for the admission of air. Flinging myself on one of +the cushioned benches, I was soon asleep, in which state I +continued for about two hours, when I was aroused by the furious +biting of a thousand bugs, which compelled me to seek the deck, +where, wrapping myself in my cloak, I again fell asleep. It +was near daybreak when I awoke; we were then about two leagues +from San Lucar. I arose and looked towards the east, +watching the gradual progress of dawn, first the dull light, then +the streak, then the tinge, then the bright blush, till at last +the golden disk of that orb which giveth day emerged from the +abyss of immensity, and in a moment the whole prospect was +covered with brightness and glory. The land smiled, the +waters sparkled, the birds sang, and men arose from their +resting-places and rejoiced: for it was day, and the sun was gone +forth on the errand of its <a name="page273"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 273</span>Creator, the diffusion of light and +gladness, and the dispelling of darkness and sorrow.</p> +<blockquote><p>“Behold the morning sun<br /> + Begins his glorious way;<br /> +His beams through all the nations run,<br /> + And life and light convey.</p> +<p>“But where the Gospel comes,<br /> + It spreads diviner light;<br /> +It calls dead sinners from their tombs,<br /> + And gives the blind their sight.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>We now stopped before Bonanza: this is, properly speaking, the +port of San Lucar, although it is half a league distant from the +latter place. It is called Bonanza on account of its good +anchorage, and its being secured from the boisterous winds of the +ocean; its literal meaning is “fair weather.” <a +name="citation273"></a><a href="#footnote273" +class="citation">[273]</a> It consists of several large +white buildings, principally government store-houses, and is +inhabited by the coastguard, dependents on the custom-house, and +a few fishermen. A boat came off to receive those +passengers whose destination was San Lucar, and to bring on board +about half a dozen who were bound for Cadiz: I entered with the +rest. A young Spaniard of very diminutive stature addressed +some questions to me in French as to what I thought of the +scenery and climate of Andalusia. I replied that I admired +both, which evidently gave him great pleasure. The boatman +now came demanding two <i>reals</i> for conveying me on +shore. I had no small money, and offered him <a +name="page274"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 274</span>a dollar to +change. He said that it was impossible. I asked him +what was to be done: whereupon he replied, uncivilly, that he +knew not, but could not lose time, and expected to be paid +instantly. The young Spaniard, observing my embarrassment, +took out two <i>reals</i> and paid the fellow. I thanked +him heartily for this act of civility, for which I felt really +grateful; as there are few situations more unpleasant than to be +in a crowd in want of change, whilst you are importuned by people +for payment. A loose character once told me that it was far +preferable to be without money at all, as you then knew what +course to take. I subsequently met the young Spaniard at +Cadiz, and repaid him, with thanks.</p> +<p>A few cabriolets were waiting near the wharf, in order to +convey us to San Lucar. I ascended one, and we proceeded +slowly along the <i>playa</i> or strand. This place is +famous in the ancient novels of Spain, of that class called +Picaresque, or those devoted to the adventures of notorious +scoundrels, the father of which, as also of others of the same +kind, in whatever language, is <i>Lazarillo de Tormes</i>. +Cervantes himself has immortalized this strand in the most +amusing of his smaller tales, <i>La Ilustre Fregona</i>. <a +name="citation274"></a><a href="#footnote274" +class="citation">[274]</a> In a word, the strand of San +Lucar in ancient times, if not in modern, was a rendezvous for +ruffians, <i>contrabandistas</i>, and vagabonds of every +description, who nested there in wooden sheds, which have now +vanished. San Lucar itself was always noted for the +thievish propensities of its inhabitants—the worst in all +Andalusia. The roguish innkeeper in Don Quixote perfected +his education at San Lucar. All these recollections crowded +into my mind as we proceeded along the <a +name="page275"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 275</span>strand, +which was beautifully gilded by the Andalusian sun. We at +last arrived nearly opposite to San Lucar, which stands at some +distance from the waterside. Here a lively spectacle +presented itself to us: the shore was covered with a multitude of +females either dressing or undressing themselves, while (I speak +within bounds) hundreds were in the water, sporting and playing: +some were close by the beach, stretched at their full length on +the sand and pebbles, allowing the little billows to dash over +their heads and bosoms; whilst others were swimming boldly out +into the firth. There was a confused hubbub of female +cries, thin shrieks, and shrill laughter; couplets likewise were +being sung, on what subject it is easy to guess—for we were +in sunny Andalusia, and what can its black-eyed daughters think, +speak, or sing of but <i>amor</i>, <i>amor</i>, which now sounded +from the land and the waters? Further on along the beach we +perceived likewise a crowd of men bathing; we passed not by them, +but turned to the left up an alley or avenue which leads to San +Lucar, and which may be a quarter of a mile long. The view +from hence was truly magnificent: before us lay the town, +occupying the side and top of a tolerably high hill, extending +from east to west. It appeared to be of considerable size; +and I was subsequently informed that it contained at least twenty +thousand inhabitants. Several immense edifices and walls +towered up in a style of grandeur which can be but feebly +described by words; but the principal object was an ancient +castle towards the left. The houses were all white, and +would have shone brilliantly in the sun had it been higher; but +at this early hour they lay comparatively in shade. The +<i>tout ensemble</i> was very Moorish and Oriental; and, indeed, +in ancient <a name="page276"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +276</span>times San Lucar was a celebrated stronghold of the +Moors, and, next to Almeria, the most frequented of the +commercial places in Spain. Everything, indeed, in these +parts of Andalusia is perfectly Oriental. Behold the +heavens, as cloudless and as brightly azure as those of Ind; the +fiery sun which tans the fairest cheek in a moment, and which +fills the air with flickering flame; and oh! remark the scenery +and the vegetable productions. The alley up which we were +moving was planted on each side with that remarkable tree or +plant, for I know not which to call it, the giant aloe, which is +called in Spanish, <i>pita</i>, and in Moorish, +<i>gurséan</i>. It rises here to a height almost as +magnificent as on the African shore. Need I say that the +stem, which springs up from the middle of the bush of green +blades, which shoot out from the root on all sides, is as high as +a palm-tree; and need I say that those blades, which are of an +immense thickness at the root, are at the tip sharper than the +point of a spear, and would inflict a terrible wound on any +animal which might inadvertently rush against them?</p> +<p>One of the first houses at San Lucar was the <i>posada</i> at +which we stopped. It confronted, with some others, the +avenue up which we had come. As it was still early, I +betook myself to rest for a few hours, at the end of which time I +went out to visit Mr. Phillipi, the British vice-consul, who was +already acquainted with me by name, as I had been recommended to +him in a letter from a relation of his at Seville. Mr. +Phillipi was at home in his counting-house, and received me with +much kindness and civility. I told him the motive of my +visit to San Lucar, and requested his assistance towards +obtaining the books from the custom-house, in order to transport +them out of the <a name="page277"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +277</span>country, as I was very well acquainted with the +difficulties which every one has to encounter in Spain who has +any business to transact with the government authorities. +He assured me that he should be most happy to assist me; and, +accordingly, despatched with me to the custom-house his head +clerk, a person well known and much respected at San Lucar.</p> +<p>It may be as well here at once to give the history of these +books, which might otherwise tend to embarrass the +narrative. They consisted of a chest of Testaments in +Spanish, and a small box of Saint Luke’s Gospel in the +<i>Gitano</i> language of the Spanish gypsies. I obtained +them from the custom-house at San Lucar, with a pass for that of +Cadiz. At Cadiz I was occupied two days, and also a person +whom I employed, in going through all the formalities, and in +procuring the necessary papers. The expense was great, as +money was demanded at every step I had to take, though I was +simply complying, in this instance, with the orders of the +Spanish government in removing prohibited books from Spain. +The farce did not end until my arrival at Gibraltar, where I paid +the Spanish consul a dollar for certifying on the back of the +pass, which I had to return to Cadiz, that the books were arrived +at the former place. It is true that he never saw the +books, nor inquired about them; but he received the money, for +which he alone seemed to be anxious.</p> +<p>Whilst at the custom-house of San Lucar I was asked one or two +questions respecting the books contained in the chests: this +afforded me some opportunity of speaking of the New Testament and +the Bible Society. What I said excited attention; and +presently all the officers and dependents of the house, <a +name="page278"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 278</span>great and +small, were gathered around me, from the governor to the +porter. As it was necessary to open the boxes to inspect +their contents, we all proceeded to the courtyard, where, holding +a Testament in my hand, I recommenced my discourse. I +scarcely know what I said; for I was much agitated, and hurried +away by my feelings, when I bethought me of the manner in which +the Word of God was persecuted in this unhappy kingdom. My +words evidently made impression, and to my astonishment every +person present pressed me for a copy. I sold several within +the walls of the custom-house. The object, however, of most +attention was the gypsy Gospel, which was minutely examined +amidst smiles and exclamations of surprise; an individual every +now and then crying, “<i>Cosas de los +Ingleses</i>.” A bystander asked me whether I could +speak the <i>Gitano</i> language. I replied that I could +not only speak it, but write it, and instantly made a speech of +about five minutes in the gypsy tongue, which I had no sooner +concluded than all clapped their hands and simultaneously +shouted, “<i>Cosas de Inglaterra</i>,” +“<i>Cosas de los Ingleses</i>.” I disposed of +several copies of the gypsy Gospel likewise, and having now +settled the business which had brought me to the custom-house, I +saluted my new friends and departed with my books.</p> +<p>I now revisited Mr. Phillipi, who, upon learning that it was +my intention to proceed to Cadiz next morning by the steamer, +which would touch at Bonanza at four o’clock, despatched +the chests and my little luggage to the latter place, where he +likewise advised me to sleep, in order that I might be in +readiness to embark at that early hour. He then introduced +me to his family, his wife an English woman, and his daughter <a +name="page279"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 279</span>an amiable +and beautiful girl of about eighteen years of age, whom I had +previously seen at Seville; three or four other ladies from +Seville were likewise there on a visit, and for the purpose of +sea-bathing. After a few words in English between the lady +of the house and myself, we all commenced chatting in Spanish, +which seemed to be the only language understood or cared for by +the rest of the company; indeed, who would be so unreasonable as +to expect Spanish females to speak any language but their own, +which, flexible and harmonious as it is (far more so, I think, +than any other), seems at times quite inadequate to express the +wild sallies of their luxuriant imagination. Two hours fled +rapidly away in discourse, interrupted occasionally by music and +song, when I bade farewell to this delightful society, and +strolled out to view the town.</p> +<p>It was now past noon, and the heat was exceedingly fierce: I +saw scarcely a living being in the streets, the stones of which +burnt my feet through the soles of my boots. I passed +through the square of the Constitution, which presents nothing +particular to the eye of the stranger, and ascended the hill to +obtain a nearer view of the castle. It is a strong heavy +edifice of stone, with round towers, and, though deserted, +appears to be still in a tolerable state of preservation. I +became tired of gazing, and was retracing my steps, when I was +accosted by two gypsies, who by some means had heard of my +arrival. We exchanged some words in <i>Gitano</i>, but they +appeared to be very ignorant of the dialect, and utterly unable +to maintain a conversation in it. They were clamorous for a +<i>gabicote</i>, or book in the gypsy tongue. I refused it +them, saying that they could turn it to no <a +name="page280"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 280</span>profitable +account; but finding that they could read, I promised them each a +Testament in Spanish. This offer, however, they refused +with disdain, saying that they cared for nothing written in the +language of the <i>Busné</i> or Gentiles. They then +persisted in their demand, to which I at last yielded, being +unable to resist their importunity; whereupon they accompanied me +to the inn, and received what they so ardently desired.</p> +<p>In the evening I was visited by Mr. Phillipi, who informed me +that he had ordered a cabriolet to call for me at the inn at +eleven at night, for the purpose of conveying me to Bonanza, and +that a person there, who kept a small wine-house, and to whom the +chests and other things had been forwarded, would receive me for +the night, though it was probable that I should have to sleep on +the floor. We then walked to the beach, where there were a +great number of bathers, all men. Amongst them were some +good swimmers; two, in particular, were out at a great distance +in the firth of the Guadalquivir, I should say at least a mile; +their heads could just be descried with the telescope. I +was told that they were friars. I wondered at what period +of their lives they had acquired their dexterity at +natation. I hoped it was not at a time when, according to +their vows, they should have lived for prayer, fasting, and +mortification alone. Swimming is a noble exercise, but it +certainly does not tend to mortify either the flesh or the +spirit. As it was becoming dusk, we returned to the town, +when my friend bade me a kind farewell. I then retired to +my apartment, and passed some hours in meditation.</p> +<p>It was night, ten o’clock;—eleven o’clock, +and the cabriolet was at the door. I got in, and we +proceeded <a name="page281"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +281</span>down the avenue and along the shore, which was quite +deserted. The waves sounded mournfully; everything seemed +to have changed since the morning. I even thought that the +horse’s feet sounded differently as it trotted slowly over +the moist firm sand. The driver, however, was by no means +mournful, nor inclined to be silent long: he soon commenced +asking me an infinity of questions as to whence I came and +whither I was bound. Having given him what answers I +thought most proper, I, in return, asked him whether he was not +afraid to drive along that beach, which had always borne so bad a +character, at so unseasonable an hour. Whereupon he looked +around him, and seeing no person, he raised a shout of derision, +and said that a fellow with his whiskers feared not all the +thieves that ever walked the <i>playa</i>, and that no dozen men +in San Lucar dare to waylay any traveller whom they knew to be +beneath his protection. He was a good specimen of the +Andalusian braggart. We soon saw a light or two shining +dimly before us; they proceeded from a few barks and small +vessels stranded on the sand close below Bonanza: amongst them I +distinguished two or three dusky figures. We were now at +our journey’s end, and stopped before the door of the place +where I was to lodge for the night. The driver, +dismounting, knocked loud and long, until the door was opened by +an exceedingly stout man of about sixty years of age; he held a +dim light in his hand, and was dressed in a red nightcap and +dirty striped shirt. He admitted us, without a word, into a +very large long room with a clay floor. A species of +counter stood on one side near the door; behind it stood a barrel +or two, and against the wall, on shelves, many bottles of various +sizes. The smell of liquors <a name="page282"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 282</span>and wine was very powerful. I +settled with the driver and gave him a gratuity, whereupon he +asked me for something to drink to my safe journey. I told +him he could call for whatever he pleased: whereupon he demanded +a glass of <i>aguardiente</i>, which the master of the house, who +had stationed himself behind the counter, handed him without +saying a word. The fellow drank it off at once, but made a +great many wry faces after having swallowed it, and, coughing, +said that he made no doubt it was good liquor, as it burnt his +throat terribly. He then embraced me, went out, mounted his +cabriolet, and drove off.</p> +<p>The old man with the red nightcap now moved slowly to the +door, which he bolted and otherwise secured; he then drew forward +two benches, which he placed together, and pointed to them as if +to intimate to me that there was my bed: he then blew out the +candle and retired deeper into the apartment, where I heard him +lay himself down sighing and snorting. There was now no +further light than what proceeded from a small earthen pan on the +floor, filled with water and oil, on which floated a small piece +of card with a lighted wick in the middle, which simple species +of lamp is called <i>mariposa</i>. <a name="citation282"></a><a +href="#footnote282" class="citation">[282]</a> I now laid +my carpet-bag on the bench as a pillow, and flung myself +down. I should have been asleep instantly, but he of the +red nightcap now commenced snoring awfully, which brought to my +mind that I had not yet commended myself to my Friend and +Redeemer: I therefore prayed, and then sank to repose.</p> +<p>I was awakened more than once during the night by cats, and I +believe rats, leaping upon my body. At the last of these +interruptions I arose, and, <a name="page283"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 283</span>approaching the <i>mariposa</i>, +looked at my watch; it was half-past three o’clock. I +opened the door and looked out; whereupon some fishermen entered, +clamouring for their morning draught: the old man was soon on his +feet serving them. One of the men said to me, that if I was +going by the steamer, I had better order my things to the wharf +without delay, as he had heard the vessel coming down the +river. I despatched my luggage, and then demanded of the +red nightcap what I owed him. He replied, “<i>Un +real</i>.” These were the only two words which I +heard proceed from his mouth: he was certainly addicted to +silence, and perhaps to philosophy, neither of which are much +practised in Andalusia. I now hurried to the wharf. +The steamer was not yet arrived, but I heard its thunder up the +river every moment becoming more distinct: there were mist and +darkness upon the face of the waters, and I felt awe as I +listened to the approach of the invisible monster booming through +the stillness of the night. It came at last in sight, +plashed its way forward, stopped, and I was soon on board. +It was the <i>Peninsula</i>, the best boat on the +Guadalquivir.</p> +<p>What a wonderful production of art is a steamboat! and yet why +should we call it wonderful, if we consider its history? +More than five hundred years have elapsed since the idea of +making one first originated; but it was not until the close of +the last century that the first, worthy of the name, made its +appearance on a Scottish river.</p> +<p>During this long period of time, acute minds and skilful hands +were occasionally busied in attempting to remove those +imperfections in the machinery which alone prevented a vessel +being made capable of propelling itself against wind and +tide. All these attempts <a name="page284"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 284</span>were successively abandoned in +despair, yet scarcely one was made which was perfectly fruitless; +each inventor leaving behind him some monument of his labour, of +which those who succeeded him took advantage, until at last a +fortunate thought or two, and a few more perfect arrangements, +were all that were wanting. The time arrived, and now, at +length, the very Atlantic is crossed by haughty steamers. +Much has been said of the utility of steam in spreading abroad +civilization, and I think justly. When the first +steam-vessels were seen on the Guadalquivir, about ten years ago, +the Sevillians ran to the banks of the river, crying +“sorcery, sorcery,” which idea was not a little +favoured by the speculation being an English one, and the boats, +which were English built, being provided with English engineers, +as, indeed, they still are; no Spaniard having been found capable +of understanding the machinery. They soon, however, became +accustomed to them, and the boats are in general crowded with +passengers. Fanatic and vain as the Sevillians still are, +and bigoted as they remain to their own customs, they know that +good, in one instance at least, can proceed from a foreign land, +and that land a land of heretics; inveterate prejudice has been +shaken, and we will hope that this is the dawn of their +civilization.</p> +<p>Whilst passing over the bay of Cadiz, I was reclining on one +of the benches on the deck, when the captain walked by in company +with another man; they stopped a short distance from me, and I +heard the captain ask the other, in a low voice, how many +languages he spoke; he replied, “Only one.” +“That one,” said the captain, “is of course the +Christian;” by which name the Spaniards style their own +language, in <a name="page285"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +285</span>contradistinction to all others. “That +fellow,” continued the captain, “who is lying on the +deck, can speak Christian too, when it serves his purpose, but he +speaks others, which are by no means Christian: he can talk +English, and I myself have heard him chatter in <i>Gitano</i> +with the gypsies of Triana; he is now going amongst the Moors, +and when he arrives in their country you will hear him, should +you be there, converse as fluently in their gibberish as in +<i>Cristiano</i>, nay, better, for he is no Christian +himself. He has been several times on board my vessel +already, but I do not like him, as I consider that he carries +something about with him which is not good.”</p> +<p>This worthy person, on my coming aboard the boat, had shaken +me by the hand and expressed his joy at seeing me again.</p> +<h2><a name="page286"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +286</span>CHAPTER LI.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Cadiz—The Fortifications—The +Consul-General—Characteristic Anecdote—Catalan +Steamer—Trafalgar—Alonzo Guzman—Gibil +Muza—Orestes Frigate—The Hostile Lion—Works of +the Creator—Lizard of the Rock—The +Concourse—Queen of the Waters—Broken Prayer.</p> +<p>Cadiz stands, as is well known, upon a long narrow neck of +land stretching out into the ocean, from whose bosom the town +appears to rise, the salt waters laving its walls on all sides +save the east, where a sandy isthmus connects it with the coast +of Spain. The town, as it exists at the present day, is of +modern construction, and very unlike any other town which is to +be found in the Peninsula, being built with great regularity and +symmetry. The streets are numerous, and intersect each +other, for the most part at right angles. They are very +narrow in comparison to the height of the houses, so that they +are almost impervious to the rays of the sun, except when at its +midday altitude. The principal street, however, is an +exception, it being of some width. This street, in which +stands the Bolsa, or exchange, and which contains the houses of +the chief merchants and nobility, is the grand resort of loungers +as well as men of business during the early part of the day, and +in that <a name="page287"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +287</span>respect resembles the Puerta del Sol at Madrid. +It is connected with the great square, which, though not of very +considerable extent, has many pretensions to magnificence, it +being surrounded with large imposing houses, and planted with +fine trees, with marble seats below them for the accommodation of +the public. There are few public edifices worthy of much +attention: the chief church, indeed, might be considered a fine +monument of labour in some other countries; but in Spain, the +land of noble and gigantic cathedrals, it can be styled nothing +more than a decent place of worship; it is still in an unfinished +state. There is a public walk, or <i>alameda</i>, on the +northern ramparts, which is generally thronged in summer +evenings: the green of its trees, when viewed from the bay, +affords an agreeable relief to the eye, dazzled with the glare of +the white buildings, for Cadiz is also a bright city. It +was once the wealthiest place in all Spain, but its prosperity +has of late years sadly diminished, and its inhabitants are +continually lamenting its ruined trade; on which account many are +daily abandoning it for Seville, where living at least is +cheaper. There is still, however, much life and bustle in +the streets, which are adorned with many splendid shops, several +of which are in the style of Paris and London. The present +population is said to amount to eighty thousand souls.</p> +<p>It is not without reason that Cadiz has been called a strong +town: the fortifications on the land side, which were partly the +work of the French during the sway of Napoleon, are perfectly +admirable, and seem impregnable: towards the sea it is defended +as much by nature as by art, water and sunken rocks being no +contemptible bulwarks. The defences of the town, <a +name="page288"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 288</span>however, +except the landward ones, afford melancholy proofs of Spanish +apathy and neglect, even when allowance is made for the present +peculiarly unhappy circumstances of the country. Scarcely a +gun, except a few dismounted ones, is to be seen on the +fortifications, which are rapidly falling to decay, so that this +insulated stronghold is at present almost at the mercy of any +foreign nation which, upon any pretence, or none at all, should +seek to tear it from the grasp of its present legitimate +possessors, and convert it into a foreign colony.</p> +<p>A few hours after my arrival, I waited upon Mr. B---, <a +name="citation288"></a><a href="#footnote288" +class="citation">[288]</a> the British consul-general at +Cadiz. His house, which is the corner one at the entrance +of the <i>alameda</i>, commands a noble prospect of the bay, and +is very large and magnificent. I had, of course, long been +acquainted with Mr. B--- by reputation; I knew that for several +years he had filled, with advantage to his native country, and +with honour to himself, the distinguished and highly responsible +situation which he holds in Spain. I knew, likewise, that +he was a good and pious Christian, and, moreover, the firm and +enlightened friend of the Bible Society. Of all this I was +aware, but I had never yet enjoyed the advantage of being +personally acquainted with him. I saw him now for the first +time, and was much struck with his appearance. He is a +tall, athletic, finely built man, seemingly about forty-five or +fifty; there is much dignity in his countenance, which is, +however, softened by an expression of good humour truly +engaging. His manner is frank and affable in the +extreme. I am not going to enter into minute details of our +interview, which was to me a very interesting one. <a +name="page289"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 289</span>He knew +already the leading parts of my history since my arrival in +Spain, and made several comments upon it, which displayed his +intimate knowledge of the situation of the country as regards +ecclesiastical matters, and the state of opinion respecting +religious innovation.</p> +<p>I was pleased to find that his ideas in many points accorded +with my own, and we were both decidedly of opinion that, +notwithstanding the great persecution and outcry which had lately +been raised against the Gospel, the battle was by no means lost, +and that the holy cause might yet triumph in Spain, if zeal +united with discretion and Christian humility were displayed by +those called upon to uphold it.</p> +<p>During the greater part of this and the following day, I was +much occupied at the custom-house, endeavouring to obtain the +documents necessary for the exportation of the Testaments. +On the afternoon of Saturday I dined with Mr. B--- and his +family—an interesting group—his lady, his beautiful +daughters, and his son, a fine intelligent young man. Early +the next morning a steamer, the <i>Balear</i>, was to quit Cadiz +for Marseilles, touching on the way at Algeziras, Gibraltar, and +various other ports of Spain. I had engaged my passage on +board her as far as Gibraltar, having nothing further to detain +me at Cadiz; my business with the custom-house having been +brought at last to a termination, though I believe I should never +have got through it but for the kind assistance of Mr. +B---. I quitted this excellent man and my other charming +friends at a late hour with regret. I believe that I +carried with me their very best wishes; and, in whatever part of +the world I, a poor wanderer in the Gospel’s cause, may +chance to be, I shall not <a name="page290"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 290</span>unfrequently offer up sincere +prayers for their happiness and well-being.</p> +<p>Before taking leave of Cadiz I shall relate an anecdote of the +British consul, characteristic of him and the happy manner in +which he contrives to execute the most disagreeable duties of his +situation. I was in conversation with him in a parlour of +his house, when we were interrupted by the entrance of two very +unexpected visitors: they were the captain of a Liverpool +merchant-vessel and one of the crew. The latter was a rough +sailor, a Welshman, who could only express himself in very +imperfect English. They looked unutterable dislike and +defiance at each other. It appeared that the latter had +refused to work, and insisted on leaving the ship, and his master +had in consequence brought him before the consul, in order that, +if he persisted, the consequences might be detailed to him, which +would be the forfeiture of his wages and clothes. This was +done; but the fellow became more and more dogged, refusing ever +to tread the same deck again with his captain, who, he said, had +called him “Greek, lazy lubberly Greek,” which he +would not bear. The word Greek rankled in the sailor’s +mind, and stung him to the very core. Mr. B---, who seemed +to be perfectly acquainted with the character of Welshmen in +general—who are proverbially obstinate when opposition is +offered to them—and who saw at once that the dispute had +arisen on foolish and trivial grounds, now told the man, with a +smile, that he would inform him of a way by which he might gain +the weather-gage of every one of them, consul, and captain, and +all, and secure his wages and clothes; which was by merely going +on board a brig-of-war of her Majesty, which was then lying in +the bay. The fellow said he was <a name="page291"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 291</span>aware of this, and intended to do +so. His grim features, however, instantly relaxed in some +degree, and he looked more humanely upon his captain. Mr. +B--- then, addressing himself to the latter, made some +observations on the impropriety of using the word Greek to a +British sailor: not forgetting at the same time to speak of the +absolute necessity of obedience and discipline on board every +ship. His words produced such an effect, that in a very +little time the sailor held out his hand towards his captain, and +expressed his willingness to go on board with him and perform his +duty, adding, that the captain, upon the whole, was the best man +in the world. So they departed mutually pleased; the consul +making both of them promise to attend divine service at his house +on the following day.</p> +<p>Sunday morning came, and I was on board the steamer by six +o’clock. As I ascended the side, the harsh sound of +the Catalan dialect assailed my ears. In fact, the vessel +was Catalan built, and the captain and crew were of that nation; +the greater part of the passengers already on board, or who +subsequently arrived, appeared to be Catalans, and seemed to vie +with each other in producing disagreeable sounds. A burly +merchant, however, with a red face, peaked chin, sharp eyes, and +hooked nose, clearly bore off the palm; he conversed with +astonishing eagerness on seemingly the most indifferent subjects, +or rather on no subject at all; his voice would have sounded +exactly like a coffee-mill but for a vile nasal twang: he poured +forth his Catalan incessantly till we arrived at Gibraltar. +Such people are never sea-sick, though they frequently produce or +aggravate the malady in others. We did not get under way +until past eight <a name="page292"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +292</span>o’clock, for we waited for the Governor of +Algeziras, and started instantly on his coming on board. He +was a tall, thin, rigid figure of about seventy, with a long, +grave, wrinkled countenance; in a word, the very image of an old +Spanish grandee. We stood out of the bay, rounding the +lofty lighthouse, which stands on a ledge of rocks, and then bent +our course to the south, in the direction of the Straits. +It was a glorious morning, a blue sunny sky and blue sunny ocean; +or rather, as my friend Oehlenschlæger <a +name="citation292a"></a><a href="#footnote292a" +class="citation">[292a]</a> has observed on a similar occasion, +there appeared two skies and two suns, one above and one +below.</p> +<p>Our progress was rather slow, notwithstanding the fineness of +the weather, probably owing to the tide being against us. +In about two hours we passed the Castle of Santa Petra, and at +noon were in sight of Trafalgar. The wind now freshened, +and was dead ahead; on which account we hugged closely to the +coast, in order to avoid as much as possible the strong heavy sea +which was pouring down from the Straits. We passed within a +very short distance of the Cape, a bold bluff foreland, but not +of any considerable height.</p> +<p>It is impossible for an Englishman to pass by this +place—the scene of the most celebrated naval action on +record—without emotion. Here it was that the united +navies of France and Spain were annihilated by a far inferior +force; but that force was British, and was directed by one of the +most remarkable men of the age, and perhaps the greatest hero of +any time. <a name="citation292b"></a><a href="#footnote292b" +class="citation">[292b]</a> Huge fragments of wreck still +frequently emerge from <a name="page293"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 293</span>the watery gulf whose billows chafe +the rocky sides of Trafalgar: they are relics of the enormous +ships which were burnt and sunk on that terrible day, when the +heroic champion of Britain concluded his work and died. I +never heard but one individual venture to say a word in +disparagement of Nelson’s glory: it was a pert American, <a +name="citation293a"></a><a href="#footnote293a" +class="citation">[293a]</a> who observed, that the British +admiral was much overrated. “Can that individual be +overrated,” replied a stranger, “whose every thought +was bent on his country’s honour, who scarcely ever fought +without leaving a piece of his body in the fray, and who, not to +speak of minor triumphs, was victorious, in two such actions as +Aboukir and Trafalgar?”</p> +<p>We were now soon in sight of the Moorish coast, Cape Spartel +appearing dimly through mist and vapour on our right. A +regular Levanter <a name="citation293b"></a><a +href="#footnote293b" class="citation">[293b]</a> had now come on, +and the vessel pitched and tossed to a very considerable +degree. Most of the passengers were seasick; the governor, +however, and myself held out manfully: we sat on a bench +together, and entered into conversation respecting the Moors and +their country. Torquemada himself could not have spoken of +both with more abhorrence. He informed me that he had been +frequently in several of the principal Moorish towns of the +coast, which he described as heaps of ruins: the Moors themselves +he called <i>Caffres</i> <a name="citation293c"></a><a +href="#footnote293c" class="citation">[293c]</a> and wild +beasts. He observed that he had <a name="page294"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 294</span>never been even at Tangier, where +the people were most civilized, without experiencing some insult, +so great was the abhorrence of the Moors to anything in the shape +of a Christian. He added, however, that they treated the +English with comparative civility, and that they had a saying +among them to the effect that Englishman and Mahometan were one +and the same: he then looked particularly grave for a moment, +and, crossing himself, was silent. I guessed what was +passing in his mind:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“From heretic boors,<br /> +And Turkish Moors,<br /> +Star of the sea,<br /> +Gentle Marie,<br /> +Deliver me!”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>At about three we were passing Tarifa, so frequently mentioned +in the history of Moors and Christians. Who has not heard +of Alonzo Guzman the Faithful, <a name="citation294"></a><a +href="#footnote294" class="citation">[294]</a> who allowed his +only son to be crucified before the walls of the town rather than +submit to the ignominy of delivering up the keys to the Moorish +monarch, who, with a host which is said to have amounted to +nearly half a million of men, had landed on the shores of +Andalusia, and threatened to bring all Spain once more beneath +the Moslem yoke? Certainly if there be a land and a spot +where the name of that good patriot is not sometimes mentioned +and sung, that land, that spot, is modern Spain and modern +Tarifa. <a name="page295"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +295</span>I have heard the ballad of Alonzo Guzman chanted in +Danish, by a hind in the wilds of Jutland; but once speaking of +“the Faithful” to some inhabitants of Tarifa, they +replied that they had never heard of Guzman the Faithful of +Tarifa, but were acquainted with Alonzo Guzman, <i>el tuerto</i>, +and that he was one of the most villanous <i>arrieros</i> on the +Cadiz road.</p> +<p>The voyage of these narrow seas can scarcely fail to be +interesting to the most apathetic individual, from the nature of +the scenery which presents itself to the eye on either +side. The coasts are exceedingly high and bold, especially +that of Spain, which seems to overcrow the Moorish; but opposite +to Tarifa, the African continent, rounding towards the +south-west, assumes an air of sublimity and grandeur. A +hoary mountain is seen uplifting its summits above the clouds: it +is Mount Abyla, or, as it is called in the Moorish tongue, Gibil +Muza, or the hill of Muza, from the circumstance of its +containing the sepulchre of a prophet of that name. <a +name="citation295"></a><a href="#footnote295" +class="citation">[295]</a> This is one of the two +excrescences of nature on which the Old World bestowed the title +of the Pillars of Hercules. Its skirts and sides occupy the +Moorish coast for many leagues in more than one direction, but +the broad aspect of its steep and stupendous front is turned full +towards that part of the European continent where Gibraltar lies +like a huge monster stretching far into the brine. Of the +two hills, or pillars, the most remarkable, when viewed from +afar, is the African one, Gibil Muza. It is the tallest and +bulkiest, and is visible at a greater <a name="page296"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 296</span>distance; but scan them both from +near, and you feel that all your wonder is engrossed by the +European column. Gibil Muza is an immense shapeless mass, a +wilderness of rocks, with here and there a few trees and shrubs +nodding from the clefts of its precipices; it is uninhabited, +save by wolves, wild swine, and chattering monkeys, on which last +account it is called by the Spaniards, <i>Montaña de las +Monas</i>, <a name="citation296a"></a><a href="#footnote296a" +class="citation">[296a]</a> whilst, on the contrary, Gibraltar, +not to speak of the strange city which covers part of it, a city +inhabited by men of all nations and tongues, its batteries and +excavations, all of them miracles of art, is the most +singular-looking mountain in the world—a mountain which can +neither be described by pen nor pencil, and at which the eye is +never satiated with gazing.</p> +<p>It was near sunset, and we were crossing the bay of +Gibraltar. We had stopped at Algeziras, on the Spanish +side, for the purpose of landing the old governor and his suite, +and delivering and receiving letters.</p> +<p>Algeziras is an ancient Moorish town, as the name denotes, +which is an Arabic word, and signifies “the place of the +islands.” <a name="citation296b"></a><a +href="#footnote296b" class="citation">[296b]</a> It is +situated at the water’s edge, with a lofty range of +mountains in the rear. It seemed a sad deserted place, as +far as I could judge at the distance of half a mile. In the +harbour, however, lay a Spanish frigate and French war +brig. As we passed the former, some of the Spaniards on +board our steamer became boastful at the expense of the +English. It appeared that, a few weeks before, an English +vessel, suspected to be a contraband trader, was seen by this +frigate hovering about a bay on the <a name="page297"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 297</span>Andalusian coast, in company with an +English frigate, the <i>Orestes</i>. The Spaniard dogged +them for some time, till one morning, observing that the +<i>Orestes</i> had disappeared, he hoisted English colours, and +made a signal to the trader to bear down; the latter, deceived by +the British ensign, and supposing that the Spaniard was the +friendly <i>Orestes</i>, instantly drew near, was fired at and +boarded, and, proving in effect to be a contraband trader, she +was carried into port and delivered over to the Spanish +authorities. In a few days the captain of the +<i>Orestes</i> hearing of this, and incensed at the unwarrantable +use made of the British flag, sent a boat on board the frigate, +demanding that the vessel should be instantly restored, as, if +she was not, he would retake her by force; adding, that he had +forty cannons on board. The captain of the Spanish frigate +returned for answer, that the trader was in the hands of the +officers of the customs, and was no longer at his disposal; that +the captain of the <i>Orestes</i>, however, could do what he +pleased, and that if he had forty guns, he himself had +forty-four; whereupon the <i>Orestes</i> thought proper to bear +away. Such at least was the Spanish account, as related by +the journals. Observing the Spaniards to be in great glee +at the idea of one of their nation having frightened away the +Englishman, I exclaimed, “Gentlemen, all of you who suppose +that an English sea-captain has been deterred from attacking a +Spaniard, from an apprehension of a superior force of four guns, +remember, if you please, the fate of the <i>Santísima +Trinidad</i>, and be pleased also not to forget that we are +almost within cannon’s sound of Trafalgar.”</p> +<p>It was near sunset, I repeat, and we were crossing the bay of +Gibraltar. I stood on the prow of the <a +name="page298"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 298</span>vessel, +with my eyes intently fixed on the mountain fortress, which, +though I had seen it several times before, filled my mind with +admiration and interest. Viewed from this situation, it +certainly, if it resembles any animate object in nature, has +something of the appearance of a terrible couchant lion, whose +stupendous head menaces Spain. Had I been dreaming, I +should almost have concluded it to be the genius of Africa, in +the shape of its most puissant monster, who had bounded over the +sea from the clime of sand and sun, bent on the destruction of +the rival continent, more especially as the hue of its stony +sides, its crest and chine, is tawny even as that of the hide of +the desert king. A hostile lion has it almost invariably +proved to Spain, at least since it first began to play a part in +history, which was at the time when Tarik seized and fortified +it. <a name="citation298"></a><a href="#footnote298" +class="citation">[298]</a> It has for the most part been in +the hands of foreigners: first the swarthy and turbaned Moor +possessed it, and it is now tenanted by a fair-haired race from a +distant isle. Though a part of Spain, it seems to disavow +the connexion, and at the end of a long narrow sandy isthmus, +almost level with the sea, raising its blasted and perpendicular +brow to denounce the crimes which deformed the history of that +fair and majestic land.</p> +<p>It was near sunset, I say it for the third time, and we were +crossing the bay of Gibraltar. Bay! it seemed no bay, but +an inland sea, surrounded on all sides by enchanted barriers, so +strange, so wonderful was the aspect of its coasts. Before +us lay the impregnable hill; on our right the African continent, +with its grey Gibil Muza, and the crag of Ceuta, to which last a +<a name="page299"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 299</span>solitary +bark seemed steering its way; behind us the town we had just +quitted, with its mountain wall; on our left the coast of +Spain. The surface of the water was unruffled by a wave, +and as we rapidly glided on, the strange object which we were +approaching became momentarily more distinct and visible. +There, at the base of the mountain, and covering a small portion +of its side, lay the city, with its ramparts garnished with black +guns, pointing significantly at its moles and harbours; above, +seemingly on every crag which could be made available for the +purpose of defence or destruction, peered batteries, pale and +sepulchral looking, as if ominous of the fate which awaited any +intrusive foe; whilst east and west towards Africa and Spain, on +the extreme points, rose castles, towers, or <i>atalayas</i>, +which overcrowed the whole, and all the circumjacent region, +whether land or sea. Mighty and threatening appeared the +fortifications, and doubtless, viewed in any other situation, +would have alone occupied the mind and engrossed its wonder; but +the hill, the wondrous hill was everywhere about them, beneath +them, or above them, overpowering their effect as a +spectacle. Who, when he beholds the enormous elephant, with +his brandished trunk, dashing impetuously to the war, sees the +castle which he bears, or fears the javelins of those whom he +carries, however skilful and warlike they may be? Never +does God appear so great and powerful as when the works of his +hands stand in contrast with the labours of man. Survey the +Escurial; it is a proud work, but wonder if you can when you see +the mountain mocking it behind; survey that boast of Moorish +kings, survey Granada from its plain, and wonder if you can, for +you see the Alpujarras mocking it from behind. Oh, <a +name="page300"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 300</span>what are +the works of man compared with those of the Lord? Even as +man is compared with his Creator. Man builds pyramids, and +God builds pyramids; the pyramids of man are heaps of shingles, +tiny hillocks on a sandy plain; the pyramids of the Lord are +Andes and Indian hills. Man builds walls, and so does his +Master; but the walls of God are the black precipices of +Gibraltar and Horneel, eternal, indestructible, and not to be +scaled; whilst those of man can be climbed, can be broken by the +wave, or shattered by the lightning or the powder blast. +Would man display his power and grandeur to advantage, let him +flee far from the hills; for the broad pennants of God, even his +clouds, float upon the tops of the hills, and the majesty of God +is most manifest among the hills. Call Gibraltar the hill +of Tarik or Hercules, if you will; but gaze upon it for a moment, +and you will call it the hill of God. Tarik and the old +giant may have built upon it; but not all the dark race of whom +Tarik was one, nor all the giants of old renown of whom the other +was one, could have built up its crags or chiselled the enormous +mass to its present shape.</p> +<p>We dropped anchor not far from the Mole. As we expected +every moment to hear the evening gun, after which no person is +permitted to enter the town, I was in trepidation lest I should +be obliged to pass the night on board the dirty Catalan steamer, +which, as I had no occasion to proceed further in her, I was in +great haste to quit. A boat now drew nigh, with two +individuals at the stern, one of whom, standing up, demanded, in +an authoritative voice, the name of the vessel, her destination, +and cargo. Upon being answered, they came on board. +After some conversation with the captain, they were about to +depart, <a name="page301"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +301</span>when I inquired whether I could accompany them on +shore. The person I addressed was a tall young man, with a +fustian frock-coat. He had a long face, long nose, and wide +mouth, with large restless eyes. There was a grin on his +countenance which seemed permanent, and, had it not been for his +bronzed complexion, I should have declared him to be a cockney, +and nothing else. He was, however, no such thing, but what +is called “a rock lizard,” <a +name="citation301"></a><a href="#footnote301" +class="citation">[301]</a> that is, a person born at Gibraltar of +English parents. Upon hearing my question, which was in +Spanish, he grinned more than ever, and inquired, in a strange +accent, whether I was a son of Gibraltar. I replied that I +had not that honour, but that I was a British subject. +Whereupon he said that he should make no difficulty in taking me +ashore. We entered the boat, which was rapidly rowed toward +the land by four Genoese sailors. My two companions +chattered in their strange Spanish, he of the fustian +occasionally turning his countenance full upon me, the last grin +appearing even more hideous than the preceding ones. We +soon reached the quay, where my name was noted down by a person +who demanded my passport, and I was then permitted to +advance.</p> +<p>It was now dusk, and I lost no time in crossing the drawbridge +and entering the long low archway which, passing under the +rampart, communicates with the town. Beneath this archway +paced, with measured tread, tall red-coated sentinels with +shouldered guns. There was no stopping, no sauntering in +these men. There was no laughter, no exchange of light +conversation with the passers-by, but their bearing was that of +British soldiers, conscious of the duties of their <a +name="page302"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +302</span>station. What a difference between them and the +listless loiterers who stand at guard at the gate of a Spanish +garrisoned town!</p> +<p>I now proceeded up the principal street, which runs with a +gentle ascent along the base of the hill. Accustomed for +some months past to the melancholy silence of Seville, I was +almost deafened by the noise and bustle which reigned +around. It was Sunday night, and of course no business was +going on, but there were throngs of people passing up and +down. Here was a military guard proceeding along; here +walked a group of officers, there a knot of soldiers stood +talking and laughing. The greater part of the civilians +appeared to be Spaniards, but there was a large sprinkling of +Jews in the dress of those of Barbary, and here and there a +turbaned Moor. There were gangs of sailors likewise, +Genoese, judging from the patois which they were speaking, though +I occasionally distinguished the sound of <i>tou logou sas</i>, +<a name="citation302"></a><a href="#footnote302" +class="citation">[302]</a> by which I knew there were Greeks at +hand, and twice or thrice caught a glimpse of the red cap and +blue silken petticoats of the mariner from the Romaic +isles. On still I hurried, till I arrived at a well-known +hostelry, close by a kind of square, in which stands the little +exchange of Gibraltar. Into this I ran and demanded +lodging, receiving a cheerful welcome from the genius of the +place, who stood behind the bar, and whom I shall perhaps have +occasion subsequently to describe. All the lower rooms were +filled with men of the rock, burly men in general, with swarthy +complexions and English features, with white hats, white jean +jerkins, and white jean pantaloons. They were <a +name="page303"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 303</span>smoking +pipes and cigars, and drinking porter, wine, and various other +fluids, and conversing in the rock Spanish, or rock English, as +the fit took them. Dense was the smoke of tobacco, and +great the din of voices, and I was glad to hasten upstairs to an +unoccupied apartment, where I was served with some refreshment, +of which I stood much in need.</p> +<p>I was soon disturbed by the sound of martial music close below +my windows. I went down and stood at the door. A +military band was marshalled upon the little square before the +exchange. It was preparing to beat the retreat. After +the prelude, which was admirably executed, the tall leader gave a +flourish with his stick, and strode forward up the street, +followed by the whole company of noble-looking fellows and a +crowd of admiring listeners. The cymbals clashed, the horns +screamed, and the kettle-drum emitted its deep awful note, till +the old rock echoed again, and the hanging terraces of the town +rang with the stirring noise—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Dub-a-dub, dub-a-dub—thus go the +drums,<br /> +Tantara, tantara, the Englishman comes.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>O England! long, long may it be ere the sun of thy glory sink +beneath the wave of darkness! Though gloomy and portentous +clouds are now gathering rapidly around thee, still, still may it +please the Almighty to disperse them, and to grant thee a +futurity longer in duration, and still brighter in renown, than +thy past! Or if thy doom be at hand, may that doom be a +noble one, and worthy of her who has been styled the Old Queen of +the waters! May thou sink, if thou dost sink, amidst blood +and flame, with a mighty noise, causing more than one <a +name="page304"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 304</span>nation to +participate in thy downfall! Of all fates, may it please +the Lord to preserve thee from a disgraceful and a slow decay; +becoming, ere extinct, a scorn and a mockery for those selfsame +foes who now, though they envy and abhor thee, still fear thee, +nay, even against their will, honour and respect thee!</p> +<p>Arouse thee, whilst yet there is time, and prepare thee for +the combat of life and death! Cast from thee the foul scurf +which now encrusts thy robust limbs, which deadens their force, +and makes them heavy and powerless! Cast from thee thy +false philosophers, who would fain decry what, next to the love +of God, has hitherto been deemed most sacred, the love of the +mother land! Cast from thee thy false patriots, who, under +the pretext of redressing the wrongs of the poor and weak, seek +to promote internal discord, so that thou mayest become only +terrible to thyself! And remove from thee the false +prophets, who have seen vanity and divined lies; who have daubed +thy wall with untempered mortar, that it may fall; who see +visions of peace where there is no peace; who have strengthened +the hands of the wicked, and made the heart of the righteous +sad. Oh, do this, and fear not the result; for either shall +thy end be a majestic and an enviable one, or God shall +perpetuate thy reign upon the waters, thou Old Queen!</p> +<p>The above was part of a broken prayer for my native land, +which, after my usual thanksgiving, I breathed to the Almighty +ere retiring to rest that Sunday night at Gibraltar.</p> +<h2><a name="page305"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +305</span>CHAPTER LII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">The Jolly Hosteler—Aspirants for +Glory—A +Portrait—Hamáles—Solomons—An +Expedition—The Yeoman Soldier—The +Excavations—The Pull by the Skirt—Judah and his +Father—Judah’s Pilgrimage—The Bushy +Beard—The False Moors—Judah and the King’s +Son—Premature Old Age.</p> +<p>Perhaps it would have been impossible to have chosen a +situation more adapted for studying at my ease Gibraltar and its +inhabitants, than that which I found myself occupying about ten +o’clock on the following morning. Seated on a small +bench just opposite the bar, close by the door, in the passage of +the hostelry at which I had taken up my temporary abode, I +enjoyed a view of the square of the exchange and all that was +going on there, and, by merely raising my eyes, could gaze at my +leisure on the stupendous hill which towers above the town to an +altitude of some thousand feet. I could likewise observe +every person who entered or left the house, which is one of great +resort, being situated in the most frequented place of the +principal thoroughfare of the town. My eyes were busy, and +so were my ears. Close beside me stood my excellent friend +Griffiths, the jolly hosteler, of whom I take the present +opportunity of saying a few words, though I <a +name="page306"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 306</span>dare say he +has been frequently described before, and by far better +pens. Let those who know him not figure to themselves a man +of about fifty, at least six feet in height, and weighing some +eighteen stone, an exceedingly florid countenance and good +features, eyes full of quickness and shrewdness, but at the same +time beaming with good nature. He wears white pantaloons, +white frock, and white hat, and is, indeed, all white, with the +exception of his polished Wellingtons and rubicund face. He +carries a whip beneath his arm, which adds wonderfully to the +knowingness of his appearance, which is rather more that of a +gentleman who keeps an inn on the Newmarket road, “purely +for the love of travellers, and the money which they carry about +them,” than of a native of the rock. Nevertheless, he +will tell you himself that he is a rock lizard; and you will +scarcely doubt it when, besides his English, which is broad and +vernacular, you hear him speak Spanish, ay, and Genoese too, when +necessary, and it is no child’s play to speak the latter, +which I myself could never master. He is a good judge of +horseflesh, and occasionally sells a “bit of a +blood,” or a Barbary steed, to a young hand, though he has +no objection to do business with an old one; for there is not a +thin, crouching, liver-faced, lynx-eyed Jew of Fez capable of +outwitting him in a bargain, or cheating him out of one single +pound of the fifty thousand sterling which he possesses; and yet +ever bear in mind that he is a good-natured fellow to those who +are disposed to behave honourably to him, and know likewise that +he will lend you money, if you are a gentleman, and are in need +of it; but depend upon it, if he refuse you, there is something +not altogether right <a name="page307"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 307</span>about you, for Griffiths knows +<i>his world</i>, and is not to be made a fool of.</p> +<p>There was a prodigious quantity of porter consumed in my +presence during the short hour that I sat on the bench of that +hostelry of the rock. The passage before the bar was +frequently filled with officers, who lounged in for a refreshment +which the sultry heat of the weather rendered necessary, or at +least inviting; whilst not a few came galloping up to the door on +small Barbary horses, which are to be found in great abundance at +Gibraltar. All seemed to be on the best of terms with the +host, with whom they occasionally discussed the merits of +particular steeds, and whose jokes they invariably received with +unbounded approbation. There was much in the demeanour and +appearance of these young men, for the greater part were quite +young, which was highly interesting and agreeable. Indeed, +I believe it may be said of English officers in general, that in +personal appearance, and in polished manners, they bear the palm +from those of the same class over the world. True it is, +that the officers of the royal guard of Russia, especially of the +three noble regiments styled the <i>Priberjensky</i>, +<i>Simeonsky</i>, and <i>Finlansky polks</i>, <a +name="citation307"></a><a href="#footnote307" +class="citation">[307]</a> might fearlessly enter into +competition in almost all points with the flower of the British +army; but it must be remembered, that those regiments are +officered by the choicest specimens of the Sclavonian nobility, +young men selected expressly for the splendour of their persons, +and for the superiority of their mental <a +name="page308"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 308</span>endowments; +whilst, probably, amongst all the fair-haired Anglo-Saxon youths +whom I now saw gathered near me, there was not a single one of +noble ancestry, nor of proud and haughty name; and certainly, so +far from having been selected to flatter the pride and add to the +pomp of a despot, they had been taken indiscriminately from a +mass of ardent aspirants for military glory, and sent on their +country’s service to a remote and unhealthy colony. +Nevertheless, they were such as their country might be proud of, +for gallant boys they looked, with courage on their brows, beauty +and health on their cheeks, and intelligence in their hazel +eyes.</p> +<p>Who is he who now stops before the door without entering, and +addresses a question to my host, who advances with a respectful +salute? He is no common man, or his appearance belies him +strangely. His dress is simple enough; a Spanish hat, with +a peaked crown and broad shadowy brim—the veritable +<i>sombrero</i>—jean pantaloons and blue hussar +jacket;—but how well that dress becomes one of the most +noble-looking figures I ever beheld! I gazed upon him with +strange respect and admiration as he stood benignantly smiling +and joking in good Spanish with an impudent rock rascal, who held +in his hand a huge <i>bogamante</i>, or coarse carrion lobster, +which he would fain have persuaded him to purchase. He was +almost gigantically tall, towering nearly three inches above the +burly host himself, yet athletically symmetrical, and straight as +the pine-tree of Dovrefeld. He must have counted eleven +lustres, which cast an air of mature dignity over a countenance +which seemed to have been chiselled by some Grecian sculptor, and +yet his hair was black as the plume of the Norwegian raven, and +so was the <a name="page309"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +309</span>moustache which curled above his well-formed lip. +In the garb of Greece, and in the camp before Troy, I should have +taken him for Agamemnon. “Is that man a +general?” said I to a short queer-looking personage, who +sat by my side, intently studying a newspaper. “That +gentleman,” he whispered in a lisping accent, “is, +sir, the Lieutenant-Governor of Gibraltar.” <a +name="citation309"></a><a href="#footnote309" +class="citation">[309]</a></p> +<p>On either side outside the door, squatting on the ground, or +leaning indolently against the walls, were some half-dozen men of +very singular appearance. Their principal garment was a +kind of blue gown, something resembling the blouse worn by the +peasants of the north of France, but not so long; it was +compressed around their waists by a leathern girdle, and depended +about halfway down their thighs. Their legs were bare, so +that I had an opportunity of observing the calves, which appeared +unnaturally large. Upon the head they wore small skull-caps +of black wool. I asked the most athletic of these men, a +dark-visaged fellow of forty, who they were. He answered, +<i>humáles</i>. This word I knew to be Arabic, in +which tongue it signifies a porter; and, indeed, the next moment, +I saw a similar fellow staggering across the square under an +immense burden, almost sufficient to have broken the back of a +camel. On again addressing my swarthy friend, and inquiring +whence he came, he replied, that he was born at Mogadore, in +Barbary, but had passed the greatest part of his life at +Gibraltar. He added, that he was the <i>capataz</i>, or +head man, of the <i>hamáles</i> near the door. I now +addressed him in the Arabic of the East, though with scarcely the +hope <a name="page310"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 310</span>of +being understood, more especially as he had been so long from his +own country. He, however, answered very pertinently, his +lips quivering with eagerness and his eyes sparkling with joy, +though it was easy to perceive that the Arabic, or rather the +Moorish, was not the language in which he was accustomed either +to think or speak. His companions all gathered round and +listened with avidity, occasionally exclaiming, when anything was +said which they approved of: “<i>Wakhud rajil shereef +hada</i>, <i>min beled del scharki</i>.” <a +name="citation310"></a><a href="#footnote310" +class="citation">[310]</a> At last I produced the shekel, +which I invariably carry about me as a pocket-piece, and asked +the <i>capataz</i> whether he had ever seen that money +before. He surveyed the censer and olive-branch for a +considerable time, and evidently knew not what to make of +it. At length he fell to inspecting the characters round +about it on both sides, and giving a cry, exclaimed to the other +<i>hamáles</i>: “Brothers, brothers, these are the +letters of Solomon. This silver is blessed. We must +kiss this money.” He then put it upon his head, +pressed it to his eyes, and finally kissed it with enthusiasm, as +did successively all his brethren. Then regaining it, he +returned it to me, with a low reverence. Griffiths +subsequently informed me that the fellow refused to work during +all the rest of the day, and did nothing but smile, laugh, and +talk to himself.</p> +<p>“Allow me to offer you a glass of bitters, sir,” +said the queer-looking personage before mentioned; he was a +corpulent man, very short, and his legs particularly so. +His dress consisted of a greasy snuff-coloured coat, dirty white +trousers, and dirtier stockings. On his head he wore a +rusty silk hat, the eaves of which had a tendency to turn up +before and behind. I <a name="page311"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 311</span>had observed that, during my +conversation with the <i>hamáles</i>, he had several times +uplifted his eyes from the newspaper, and on the production of +the shekel had grinned very significantly, and had inspected it +when in the hand of the <i>capataz</i>. “Allow me to +offer you a glass of bitters,” said he; “I guessed +you was one of our people before you spoke to the +<i>hamáles</i>. Sir, it does my heart good to see a +gentleman of your appearance not above speaking to his poor +brethren. It is what I do myself not unfrequently, and I +hope God will blot out my name, and that is Solomons, when I +despise them. I do not pretend to much Arabic myself, yet I +understood you tolerably well, and I liked your discourse +much. You must have a great deal of <i>shillam eidri</i>, +nevertheless you startled me when you asked the +<i>hamál</i> if he ever read the <i>Torah</i>; of course +you meant with the <i>meforshim</i>; poor as he is, I do not +believe him <i>becoresh</i> enough to read the <i>Torah</i> +without the commentators. So help me, sir, I believe you to +be a Salamancan Jew; I am told there are still some of the old +families to be found there. Ever at Tudela, sir? not very +far from Salamanca, I believe; one of my own kindred once lived +there: a great traveller, sir, like yourself; went over all the +world to look for the Jews—went to the top of Sinai. +Anything that I can do for you at Gibraltar, sir? Any +commission? will execute it as reasonably, and more expeditiously +than any one else. My name is Solomons. I am +tolerably well known at Gibraltar; yes, sir, and in the Crooked +Friars, and, for that matter, in the Neuen Stein Steg, <a +name="citation311"></a><a href="#footnote311" +class="citation">[311]</a> at Hamburg; so help me, sir, I think I +once saw your <a name="page312"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +312</span>face at the fair at Bremen. Speak German, sir? +though of course you do. Allow me, sir, to offer you a +glass of bitters. I wish, sir, they were <i>mayim hayim</i> +<a name="citation312a"></a><a href="#footnote312a" +class="citation">[312a]</a> for your sake, I do indeed, sir, I +wish they were living waters. Now, sir, do give me your +opinion as to this matter (lowering his voice and striking the +newspaper). Do you not think it is very hard that one +<i>Yudken</i> should betray the other? When I put my little +secret <i>beyad peluni</i> <a name="citation312b"></a><a +href="#footnote312b" class="citation">[312b]</a>—you +understand me, sir? when I entrust my poor secret to the custody +of an individual, and that individual a Jew, a <i>Yudken</i>, +sir, I do not wish to be blown, indeed, I do not expect it. +In a word, what do you think of the <i>gold dust robbery</i>, and +what will be done to those unfortunate people, who I see are +convicted?”</p> +<p>That same day I made inquiry respecting the means of +transferring myself to Tangier, having no wish to prolong my stay +at Gibraltar, where, though it is an exceedingly interesting +place to an observant traveller, I had no particular business to +detain me. In the evening I was visited by a Jew, a native +of Barbary, who informed me that he was secretary to the master +of a small Genoese bark which plied between Tangier and +Gibraltar. Upon his assuring me that the vessel would +infallibly start for the former place on the following evening, I +agreed with him for my passage. He said that as the wind +was blowing from the Levant quarter, the voyage would be a speedy +one. Being desirous now of disposing to the most advantage +of the short time which I expected to remain at Gibraltar, <a +name="page313"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 313</span>I +determined upon visiting the excavations, which I had as yet +never seen, on the following morning, and accordingly sent for, +and easily obtained, the necessary permission.</p> +<p>About six on Tuesday morning, I started on this expedition, +attended by a very intelligent good-looking lad of the Jewish +persuasion, one of two brothers who officiated at the inn in the +capacity of <i>valets de place</i>.</p> +<p>The morning was dim and hazy, yet sultry to a degree. We +ascended a precipitous street, and, proceeding in an easterly +direction, soon arrived in the vicinity of what is generally +known by the name of the Moorish Castle, a large tower, but so +battered by the cannon balls discharged against it in the famous +siege, that it is at present little better than a ruin. +Hundreds of round holes are to be seen in its sides, in which, as +it is said, the shot are still embedded. Here, at a species +of hut, we were joined by an artillery sergeant, who was to be +our guide. After saluting us, he led the way to a huge +rock, where he unlocked a gate at the entrance of a dark vaulted +passage which passed under it, emerging from which passage we +found ourselves in a steep path, or rather staircase, with walls +on either side.</p> +<p>We proceeded very leisurely, for hurry in such a situation +would have been of little avail, as we should have lost our +breath in a minute’s time. The soldier, perfectly +well acquainted with the locality, stalked along with measured +steps, his eyes turned to the ground.</p> +<p>I looked fully as much at that man as at the strange place +where we now were, and which was every moment becoming +stranger. He was a fine specimen of the yeoman turned +soldier; indeed, the <a name="page314"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 314</span>corps to which he belonged consists +almost entirely of that class. There he paces along, tall, +strong, ruddy, and chestnut-haired, an Englishman every inch; +behold him pacing along, sober, silent, and civil, a genuine +English soldier. I prize the sturdy Scot, I love the daring +and impetuous Irishman; I admire all the various races which +constitute the population of the British isles; yet I must say +that, upon the whole, none are so well adapted to ply the +soldier’s hardy trade as the rural sons of old England, so +strong, so cool, yet, at the same time, animated with so much +hidden fire. Turn to the history of England and you will at +once perceive of what such men are capable: even at Hastings, in +the grey old time, under almost every disadvantage, weakened by a +recent and terrible conflict, without discipline, comparatively +speaking, and uncouthly armed, they all but vanquished the Norman +chivalry. Trace their deeds in France, which they twice +subdued; and even follow them to Spain, where they twanged the +yew and raised the battle-axe, and left behind them a name of +glory at Ingles Mendi, <a name="citation314"></a><a +href="#footnote314" class="citation">[314]</a> a name that shall +last till fire consumes the Cantabrian hills. And, oh, in +modern times, trace the deeds of these gallant men all over the +world, and especially in France and Spain, and admire them, even +as I did that sober, silent, soldier-like man who was showing me +the wonders of a foreign mountain fortress, <a +name="page315"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 315</span>wrested by +his countrymen from a powerful and proud nation more than a +century before, and of which he was now a trusty and efficient +guardian.</p> +<p>We arrived close to the stupendous precipice, which rises +abruptly above the isthmus called the neutral ground, staring +gauntly and horridly at Spain, and immediately entered the +excavations. They consist of galleries scooped in the +living rock at the distance of some twelve feet from the outside, +behind which they run the whole breadth of the hill in this +direction. In these galleries, at short distances, are +ragged yawning apertures, all formed by the hand of man, where +stand the cannon upon neat slightly raised pavements of small +flint stones, each with its pyramid of bullets on one side, and +on the other a box, in which is stowed the gear which the gunner +requires in the exercise of his craft. Everything was in +its place, everything in the nicest English order, everything +ready to scathe and overwhelm in a few moments the proudest and +most numerous host which might appear marching in hostile array +against this singular fortress on the land side.</p> +<p>There is not much variety in these places, one cavern and one +gun resembling the other. As for the guns, they are not of +large calibre, indeed, such are not needed here, where a pebble +discharged from so great an altitude, would be fraught with +death. On descending a shaft, however, I observed, in one +cave of special importance, two enormous carronades looking with +peculiar wickedness and malignity down a shelving rock, which +perhaps, although not without tremendous difficulty, might be +scaled. The mere wind of one of these huge guns would be +sufficient to topple over a thousand men. What sensations +of <a name="page316"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 316</span>dread +and horror must be awakened in the breast of a foe when this +hollow rock, in the day of siege, emits its flame, smoke, and +thundering wind from a thousand yawning holes; horror not +inferior to that felt by the peasant of the neighbourhood when +Mongibello <a name="citation316"></a><a href="#footnote316" +class="citation">[316]</a> belches forth from all its orifices +its sulphureous fires.</p> +<p>Emerging from the excavations, we proceeded to view various +batteries. I asked the sergeant whether his companions and +himself were dexterous at the use of the guns. He replied +that these cannons were to them what the fowling-piece is to the +fowler, that they handled them as easily, and, he believed, +pointed them with more precision, as they seldom or never missed +an object within range of the shot. This man never spoke +until he was addressed, and then the answers which he gave were +replete with good sense, and in general well worded. After +our excursion, which lasted at least two hours, I made him a +small present, and took leave with a hearty shake of the +hand.</p> +<p>In the evening I prepared to go on board the vessel bound for +Tangier, trusting in what the Jewish secretary had told me as to +its sailing. Meeting him, however, accidentally in the +street, he informed me that it would not start until the +following morning, advising me at the same time to be on board at +an early hour. I now roamed about the streets until night +was beginning to set in, and becoming weary, I was just about to +direct my steps to the inn, when I felt myself gently pulled by +the skirt. I was <a name="page317"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 317</span>amidst a concourse of people who +were gathered around some Irish soldiers who were disputing, and +I paid no attention; but I was pulled again more forcibly than +before, and I heard myself addressed in a language which I had +half forgotten, and which I scarcely expected ever to hear +again. I looked round, and lo! a tall figure stood close to +me and gazed in my face with anxious inquiring eyes. On its +head was the <i>kauk</i> or furred cap of Jerusalem; depending +from its shoulders, and almost trailing on the ground, was a +broad blue mantle, whilst <i>kandrisa</i> or Turkish trousers +enveloped its nether limbs. I gazed on the figure as +wistfully as it gazed upon me. At first the features +appeared perfectly strange, and I was about to exclaim, “I +know you not,” when one or two lineaments struck me, and I +cried, though somewhat hesitatingly, “Surely this is Judah +Lib.”</p> +<p>I was in a steamer in the Baltic in the year ’34, if I +mistake not. There was a drizzling rain and a high sea, +when I observed a young man of about two and twenty leaning in a +melancholy attitude against the side of the vessel. By his +countenance I knew him to be one of the Hebrew race, nevertheless +there was something very singular in his appearance, something +which is rarely found amongst that people, a certain air of +nobleness which highly interested me. I approached him, and +in a few minutes we were in earnest conversation. He spoke +Polish and Jewish German indiscriminately. The story which +he related to me was highly extraordinary, yet I yielded implicit +credit to all his words, which came from his mouth with an air of +sincerity which precluded doubt; and, moreover, he could have no +motive for deceiving me. One idea, <a +name="page318"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 318</span>one object, +engrossed him entirely: “My father,” said he, in +language which strongly marked his race, “was a native of +Galatia, a Jew of high caste, a learned man, for he knew Zohar, +<a name="citation318"></a><a href="#footnote318" +class="citation">[318]</a> and he was likewise skilled in +medicine. When I was a child of some eight years, he left +Galatia, and taking his wife, who was my mother, and myself with +him, he bent his way unto the East, even to Jerusalem; there he +established himself as a merchant, for he was acquainted with +trade and the arts of getting money. He was much respected +by the Rabbins of Jerusalem, for he was a Polish man, and he knew +more Zohar and more secrets than the wisest of them. He +made frequent journeys, and was absent for weeks and for months, +but he never exceeded six moons. My father loved me, and he +taught me part of what he knew in the moments of his +leisure. I assisted him in his trade, but he took me not +with him in his journeys. We had a shop at Jerusalem, even +a shop <a name="page319"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +319</span>of commerce, where we sold the goods of the Nazarene, +and my mother and myself, and even a little sister who was born +shortly after our arrival at Jerusalem, all assisted my father in +his commerce. At length it came to pass, that on a +particular time he told us that he was going on a journey, and he +embraced us and bade us farewell, and he departed, whilst we +continued at Jerusalem attending to the business. We +awaited his return, but months passed, even six months, and he +came not, and we wondered; and months passed, even other six +passed, but still he came not, nor did we hear any tidings of +him, and our hearts were filled with heaviness and sorrow. +But when years, even two years, were expired, I said to my +mother, ‘I will go and seek my father;’ and she said, +‘Do so,’ and she gave me her blessing, and I kissed +my little sister, and I went forth as far as Egypt, and there I +heard tidings of my father, for people told me he had been there, +and they named the time, and they said that he had passed from +thence to the land of the Turk; so I myself followed to the land +of the Turk, even unto Constantinople. And when I arrived +there I again heard of my father, for he was well known amongst +the Jews, and they told me the time of his being there, and they +added that he had speculated and prospered, and departed from +Constantinople, but whither he went they knew not. So I +reasoned within myself and said, perhaps he may have gone to the +land of his fathers, even unto Galatia, to visit his kindred; so +I determined to go there myself, and I went, and I found our +kindred, and I made myself known to them, and they rejoiced to +see me: but when I asked them for my father, they shook <a +name="page320"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 320</span>their heads +and could give me no intelligence; and they would fain have had +me tarry with them, but I would not, for the thought of my father +was working strong within me, and I could not rest. So I +departed and went to another country, even unto Russia, and I +went deep into that country, even as far as Kazan, and of all I +met, whether Jew, or Russ, or Tartar, I inquired for my father: +but no one knew him, nor had heard of him. So I turned +back, and here thou seest me; and I now purpose going through all +Germany and France, nay, through all the world, until I have +received intelligence of my father, for I cannot rest until I +know what is become of my father, for the thought of him burneth +in my brain like fire, even like the fire of +<i>Jehinnim</i>.”</p> +<p>Such was the individual whom I now saw again, after a lapse of +five years, in the street of Gibraltar, in the dusk of the +evening. “Yes,” he replied, “I am Judah, +surnamed the <i>Lib</i>. Thou didst not recognize me, but I +knew thee at once. I should have known thee amongst a +million, and not a day has passed since I last saw thee, but I +have thought on thee.” I was about to reply, but he +pulled me out of the crowd and led me into a shop where, squatted +on the floor, sat six or seven Jews cutting leather; he said +something to them which I did not understand, whereupon they +bowed their heads and followed their occupation, without taking +any notice of us. A singular figure had followed us to the +door: it was a man dressed in exceedingly shabby European +garments, which exhibited nevertheless the cut of a fashionable +tailor. He seemed about fifty; his face, which was very +broad, was of a deep bronze colour; the features were rugged, but +exceedingly <a name="page321"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +321</span>manly, and, notwithstanding they were those of a Jew, +exhibited no marks of cunning, but, on the contrary, much +simplicity and good nature. His form was above the middle +height, and tremendously athletic, the arms and back were +literally those of a Hercules squeezed into a modern surtout; the +lower part of his face was covered with a bushy beard, which +depended halfway down his breast. This figure remained at +the door, his eyes fixed upon myself and Judah.</p> +<p>The first inquiry which I now addressed was, “Have you +heard of your father?”</p> +<p>“I have,” he replied. “When we parted, +I proceeded through many lands, and wherever I went I inquired of +the people respecting my father, but still they shook their +heads, until I arrived at the land of Tunis; and there I went to +the head Rabbi, and he told me that he knew my father well, and +that he had been there, even at Tunis, and he named the time, and +he said that from thence he departed for the land of Fez; and he +spoke much of my father and of his learning, and he mentioned the +Zohar, even that dark book which my father loved so well; and he +spoke yet more of my father’s wealth and his speculations, +in all of which it seems he had thriven. So I departed, and +I mounted a ship, and I went into the land of Barbary, even unto +Fez, and when I arrived there I heard much intelligence of my +father, but it was intelligence which perhaps was worse than +ignorance. For the Jews told me that my father had been +there, and had speculated and had thriven, and that from thence +he departed for Tafilaltz, which is the country of which the +emperor, even Muley Abderrahman, is a native; and there he was +still prosperous, and his wealth in gold and silver was very <a +name="page322"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 322</span>great; and +he wished to go to a not far distant town, and he engaged certain +Moors, two in number, to accompany him and defend him and his +treasures: and the Moors were strong men, even <i>makhasniah</i>, +or soldiers; and they made a covenant with my father, and they +gave him their right hands, and they swore to spill their blood +rather than his should be shed. And my father was +encouraged, and he waxed bold, and he departed with them, even +with the two false Moors. And when they arrived in the +uninhabited place, they smote my father, and they prevailed +against him, and they poured out his blood in the way, and they +robbed him of all he had, of his silks and his merchandise, and +of the gold and silver which he had made in his speculations, and +they went to their own village, and there they sat themselves +down and bought lands and houses, and they rejoiced and they +triumphed, and they made a merit of their deed, saying, ‘We +have killed an infidel, even an accursed Jew;’ and these +things were notorious in Fez. And when I heard these +tidings my heart was sad, and I became like a child, and I wept; +but the fire of <i>Jehinnim</i> burned no longer in my brain, for +I now knew what was become of my father. At last I took +comfort, and I reasoned with myself, saying, ‘Would it not +be wise to go unto the Moorish king and demand of him vengeance +for my father’s death, and that the spoilers be despoiled, +and the treasure, even my father’s treasure, be wrested +from their hands and delivered up to me who am his +son?’ And the king of the Moors was not at that time +in Fez, but was absent in his wars; and I arose and followed him, +even unto Arbat, <a name="citation322"></a><a href="#footnote322" +class="citation">[322]</a> which is a seaport, and when I <a +name="page323"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 323</span>arrived +there, lo! I found him not, but his son was there, and men said +unto me, that to speak unto the son was to speak unto the king, +even Muley Abderrahman; so I went in unto the king’s son, +and I kneeled before him, and I lifted up my voice, and I said +unto him what I had to say, and he looked courteously upon me and +said, ‘Truly thy tale is a sorrowful one, and it maketh me +sad; and what thou askest, that will I grant, and thy +father’s death shall be avenged, and the spoilers shall be +despoiled; and I will write thee a letter with my own hand unto +the Pasha, even the Pasha of Tafilaltz, and I will enjoin him to +make inquiry into thy matter, and that letter thou shalt thyself +carry and deliver unto him.’ And when I heard these +words, my heart died within my bosom for very fear, and I +replied, ‘Not so, my lord; it is good that thou write a +letter unto the Pasha, even unto the Pasha of Tafilaltz, but that +letter will I not take, neither will I go to Tafilaltz, for no +sooner should I arrive there, and my errand be known, than the +Moors would arise and put me to death, either privily or +publicly, for are not the murderers of my father Moors; and am I +aught but a Jew, though I be a Polish man?’ And he +looked benignantly, and he said, ‘Truly, thou speakest +wisely; I will write the letter, but thou shalt not take it, for +I will send it by other hands; therefore set thy heart at rest, +and doubt not that, if thy tale be true, thy father’s death +shall be avenged, and the treasure, or the value thereof, be +recovered and given up to thee; tell me, therefore, where wilt +thou abide till then?’ And I said unto him, ‘My +lord, I will go into the land of Suz and will tarry +there.’ And he replied, ‘Do so, and thou shalt +hear speedily from me.’ So I arose <a +name="page324"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 324</span>and +departed, and went into the land of Suz, even unto Swirah, which +the Nazarenes call Mogadore; and I waited with a troubled heart +for intelligence from the son of the Moorish king, but no +intelligence came, and never since that day have I heard from +him, and it is now three years since I was in his presence. +And I sat me down at Mogadore, and I married a wife, a daughter +of our nation, and I wrote to my mother, even to Jerusalem, and +she sent me money, and with that I entered into commerce, even as +my father had done, and I speculated, and I was not successful in +my speculations, and I speedily lost all I had. And now I +am come to Gibraltar to speculate on the account of another, a +merchant of Mogadore, but I like not my occupation; he has +deceived me; I am going back, when I shall again seek the +presence of the Moorish king, and demand that the treasure of my +father be taken from the spoilers and delivered up to me, even to +me his son.”</p> +<p>I listened with mute attention to the singular tale of this +singular man, and when he had concluded I remained a considerable +time without saying a word. At last he inquired what had +brought me to Gibraltar. I told him that I was merely a +passer through on my way to Tangier, for which place I expected +to sail the following morning. Whereupon he observed, that +in the course of a week or two he expected to be there also, when +he hoped that we should meet, as he had much more to tell +me. “And peradventure,” he added, “you +can afford me counsel which will be profitable, for you are a +person of experience, versed in the ways of many nations; and +when I look in your countenance, heaven seems to open to me, for +I think I see the countenance of a friend, even of a +brother.” He <a name="page325"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 325</span>then bade me farewell, and departed; +the strange bearded man, who during our conversation had remained +patiently waiting at the door, following him. I remarked +that there was less wildness in his look than on the former +occasion, but, at the same time, more melancholy, and his +features were wrinkled like those of an aged man, though he had +not yet passed the prime of youth.</p> +<h2><a name="page326"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +326</span>CHAPTER LIII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Genoese Mariners—Saint Michael’s +Cave—Midnight Abysses—Young American—A Slave +Proprietor—The Fairy Man—Infidelity.</p> +<p>Throughout the whole of that night it blew very hard, but, as +the wind was in the Levant quarter, I had no apprehension of +being detained longer at Gibraltar on that account. I went +on board the vessel at an early hour, when I found the crew +engaged in hauling the anchor close, and making other +preparations for sailing. They informed me that we should +probably start in an hour. That time, however, passed, and +we still remained where we were, and the captain continued on +shore. We formed one of a small flotilla of Genoese barks, +the crews of which seemed in their leisure moments to have no +better means of amusing themselves than the exchange of abusive +language: a furious fusilade of this kind presently commenced, in +which the mate of our vessel particularly distinguished himself; +he was a grey-haired Genoese of sixty. Though not able to +speak their patois, I understood much of what was said. It +was truly shocking, and as they shouted it forth, judging from +their violent gestures and distorted features, you would have +concluded them to <a name="page327"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +327</span>be bitter enemies. They were, however, nothing of +the kind, but excellent friends all the time, and indeed very +good-humoured fellows at bottom. Oh, the infirmities of +human nature! When will man learn to become truly +Christian?</p> +<p>I am upon the whole very fond of the Genoese; they have, it is +true, much ribaldry and many vices, but they are a brave and +chivalrous people, and have ever been so, and from them I have +never experienced aught but kindness and hospitality.</p> +<p>After the lapse of another two hours, the Jew secretary +arrived and said something to the old mate, who grumbled much; +then coming up to me, he took off his hat and informed me that we +were not to start that day, saying at the same time that it was a +shame to lose such a noble wind, which would carry us to Tangier +in three hours. “Patience,” said I, and went on +shore.</p> +<p>I now strolled towards St. Michael’s cave, in company +with the Jewish lad whom I have before mentioned.</p> +<p>The way thither does not lie in the same direction as that +which leads to the excavations; these confront Spain, whilst the +cave yawns in the face of Africa. It lies nearly at the top +of the mountain, several hundred yards above the sea. We +passed by the public walks, where there are noble trees, and also +by many small houses, situated delightfully in gardens, and +occupied by the officers of the garrison. It is wrong to +suppose Gibraltar a mere naked barren rock; it is not without its +beautiful spots—spots such as these, looking cool and +refreshing, with bright green foliage. The path soon became +very steep, and we left behind us the dwellings of man. The +<a name="page328"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 328</span>gale of +the preceding night had entirely ceased, and not a breath of air +was stirring; the midday sun shone in all its fierce glory, and +the crags up which we clambered were not unfrequently watered +with the perspiration drops which rained from our temples: at +length we arrived at the cavern.</p> +<p>The mouth is a yawning cleft in the side of the mountain, +about twelve feet high and as many wide; within there is a very +rapid, precipitous descent for some fifty yards, where the cavern +terminates in an abyss which leads to unknown depths. The +most remarkable object is a natural column, which rises up +something like the trunk of an enormous oak, as if for the +purpose of supporting the roof; it stands at a short distance +from the entrance, and gives a certain air of wildness and +singularity to that part of the cavern which is visible, which it +would otherwise not possess. The floor is exceedingly +slippery, consisting of soil which the continual drippings from +the roof have saturated, so that no slight precaution is +necessary for him who treads it. It is very dangerous to +enter this place without a guide well acquainted with it, as, +besides the black pit at the extremity, holes which have never +been fathomed present themselves here and there, falling into +which the adventurer would be dashed to pieces. Whatever +men may please to say of this cave, one thing it seems to tell to +all who approach it, namely, that the hand of man has never been +busy about it. There is many a cave of nature’s +forming, old as the earth on which we exist, which nevertheless +exhibits indications that man has turned it to some account, and +that it has been subjected more or less to his modifying +power. Not so this cave of Gibraltar, for, judging from its +appearance, there <a name="page329"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +329</span>is not the slightest reason for supposing that it ever +served for aught else than a den for foul night birds, reptiles, +and beasts of prey. It has been stated by some to have been +used in the days of paganism as a temple to the god Hercules, +who, according to the ancient tradition, raised the singular mass +of crags now called Gibraltar, and the mountain which confronts +it on the African shores, as columns which should say to all +succeeding times that he had been there, and had advanced no +further. Sufficient to observe, that there is nothing +within the cave which would authorize the adoption of such an +opinion, not even a platform on which an altar could have stood, +whilst a narrow path passes before it, leading to the summit of +the mountain. As I have myself never penetrated into its +depths, I can of course not pretend to describe them. +Numerous have been the individuals who, instigated by curiosity, +have ventured down to immense depths, hoping to discover an end, +and indeed scarcely a week passes without similar attempts being +made either by the officers or soldiers of the garrison, all of +which have proved perfectly abortive. No termination has +ever been reached, nor any discoveries made to repay the labour +and frightful danger incurred; precipice succeeds precipice, and +abyss succeeds abyss, in apparently endless succession, with +ledges at intervals, which afford the adventurers opportunities +for resting themselves and affixing their rope-ladders for the +purpose of descending yet further. What is, however, most +mortifying and perplexing, is to observe that these abysses are +not only before, but behind you, and on every side; indeed, close +within the entrance of the cave, on the right, there is a gulf +almost equally dark and full as threatening as that <a +name="page330"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 330</span>which +exists at the nether end, and perhaps contains within itself as +many gulfs and horrid caverns branching off in all +directions. Indeed, from what I have heard, I have come to +the opinion that the whole hill of Gibraltar is honeycombed, and +I have little doubt that, were it cleft asunder, its interior +would be found full of such abysses of Erebus as those to which +Saint Michael’s cave conducts. Many valuable lives +are lost every year in these horrible places; and only a few +weeks before my visit, two sergeants, brothers, had perished in +the gulf on the right hand side of the cave, having, when at a +great depth, slipped down a precipice. The body of one of +these adventurous men is even now rotting in the bowels of the +mountain, preyed upon by its blind and noisome worms; that of his +brother was extricated. Immediately after this horrible +accident, a gate was placed before the mouth of the cave, to +prevent individuals, and especially the reckless soldiers, from +indulging in their extravagant curiosity. The lock, +however, was speedily forced, and at the period of my arrival the +gate swung idly upon its hinges.</p> +<p>As I left the place, I thought that perhaps similar to this +was the cave of Horeb, where dwelt Elijah, when he heard the +still small voice, after the great and strong wind which rent the +mountains and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; the cave +to the entrance of which he went out and stood with his face +wrapped in his mantle, when he heard the voice say unto him, +“What doest thou here, Elijah?” <a +name="citation330"></a><a href="#footnote330" +class="citation">[330]</a></p> +<p>And what am I doing here, I inquired of myself, as, vexed at +my detention, I descended into the town.</p> +<p><a name="page331"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 331</span>That +afternoon I dined in the company of a young American, a native of +South Carolina. I had frequently seen him before, as he had +been staying for some time at the inn previous to my arrival at +Gibraltar. His appearance was remarkable: he was low of +stature, and exceedingly slightly made; his features were pale, +but very well formed; he had a magnificent head of crispy black +hair, and as superb a pair of whiskers of the same colour as I +ever beheld. He wore a white hat, with broad brim and +particularly shallow crown, and was dressed in a light yellow +gingham frock, striped with black, and ample trousers of +calico. In a word, his appearance was altogether queer and +singular. On my return from my ramble to the cave, I found +that he had himself just descended from the mountain, having +since a very early hour been absent exploring its wonders.</p> +<p>A man of the rock asked him how he liked the +excavations. “Liked them?” said he; “you +might just as well ask a person who has just seen the Niagara +Falls how he liked them—like is not the word, +mister.” The heat was suffocating, as it almost +invariably is in the town of Gibraltar, where rarely a breath of +air is to be felt, as it is sheltered from all winds. This +led another individual to inquire of him whether he did not think +it exceedingly hot? “Hot, sir?” he replied, +“not at all; fine cotton-gathering weather as a man could +wish for. We couldn’t beat it in South Carolina, +sir.” “You live in South Carolina, sir—I +hope, sir, you are not a slave proprietor,” said the short, +fat Jewish personage in the snuff-coloured coat, who had offered +me the bitters on a previous occasion; “it is a terrible +thing to make slaves of poor people, simply because they happen +to be black; <a name="page332"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +332</span>don’t you think so, sir?” +“Think so, sir?—no, sir, I don’t think +so—I glory in being a slave proprietor; have four hundred +black niggers on my estate—own estate, sir, near +Charleston—flog half a dozen of them before breakfast, +merely for exercise. Niggers only made to be flogged, sir; +try to escape sometimes; set the bloodhounds in their trail, +catch them in a twinkling; used to hang themselves +formerly—the niggers thought that a sure way to return to +their own country and get clear of me; soon put a stop to that; +told them that if any more hanged themselves I’d hang +myself too, follow close behind them, and flog them in their own +country ten times worse than in mine. What do you think of +that, friend?” It was easy to perceive that there was +more of fun than malice in this eccentric little fellow, for his +large grey eyes were sparkling with good humour whilst he poured +out these wild things. He was exceedingly free of his +money; and a dirty Irish woman, a soldier’s wife, having +entered with a basketful of small boxes and trinkets, made of +portions of the rock of Gibraltar, he purchased the greater part +of her ware, giving her for every article the price (by no means +inconsiderable) which she demanded. He had glanced at me +several times, and at last I saw him stoop down and whisper +something to the Jew, who replied in an undertone, though with +considerable earnestness, “Oh dear no, sir; perfectly +mistaken, sir; is no American, sir; from Salamanca, sir—the +gentleman is a Salamancan Spaniard.” The waiter at +length informed us that he had laid the table, and that perhaps +it would be agreeable to us to dine together: we instantly +assented. I found my new acquaintance in many respects a +most agreeable companion: he soon told me his history. <a +name="page333"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 333</span>He was a +planter, and, from what he hinted, just come to his +property. He was part owner of a large vessel which traded +between Charleston and Gibraltar, and the yellow fever having +just broken out at the former place, he had determined to take a +trip (his first) to Europe in this ship; having, as he said, +already visited every state in the Union, and seen all that was +to be seen there. He described to me, in a very naïve +and original manner, his sensations on passing by Tarifa, which +was the first walled town he had ever seen. I related to +him the history of that place, to which he listened with great +attention. He made divers attempts to learn from me who I +was, all of which I evaded, though he seemed fully convinced that +I was an American; and, amongst other things, asked me whether my +father had not been American consul at Seville. What, +however, most perplexed him was my understanding Moorish and +Gaelic, which he had heard me speak respectively to the +<i>hamáles</i> and the Irish woman, the latter of whom, as +he said, had told him that I was a fairy man. At last he +introduced the subject of religion, and spoke with much contempt +of revelation, avowing himself a deist: he was evidently very +anxious to hear my opinion, but here again I evaded him, and +contented myself with asking him whether he had ever read the +Bible. He said he had not, but that he was well acquainted +with the writings of Volney and Mirabeau. I made no answer, +whereupon he added, that it was by no means his habit to +introduce such subjects, and that there were very few persons to +whom he would speak so unreservedly, but that I had very much +interested him, though our acquaintance had been short. I +replied, that he would scarcely have spoken at Boston in the <a +name="page334"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 334</span>manner that +I had just heard him, and that it was easy to perceive that he +was not a New Englander. “I assure you,” said +he, “I should as little have thought of speaking so at +Charleston, for if I held such conversation there, I should soon +have had to speak to myself.”</p> +<p>Had I known less of deists than it has been my fortune to +know, I should perhaps have endeavoured to convince this young +man of the erroneousness of the ideas which he had adopted; but I +was aware of all that he would have urged in reply, and, as the +believer has no carnal arguments to address to carnal reason upon +this subject, I thought it best to avoid disputation, which I +felt sure would lead to no profitable result. Faith is the +free gift of God, and I do not believe that ever yet was an +infidel converted by means of after-dinner polemics. This +was the last evening of my sojourn in Gibraltar.</p> +<h2><a name="page335"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +335</span>CHAPTER LIV.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Again on Board—The Strange +Visage—The Haji—Setting Sail—The Two +Jews—American Vessel—Tangier—Adun +Oulem—The Struggle—The Forbidden Thing.</p> +<p>On Thursday, the 8th of August, I was again on board the +Genoese bark, at as early an hour as on the previous +morning. After waiting, however, two or three hours without +any preparation being made for departing, I was about to return +to the shore once more, but the old Genoese mate advised me to +stay, assuring me that he had no doubt of our sailing speedily, +as all the cargo was on board, and we had nothing further to +detain us. I was reposing myself in the little cabin, when +I heard a boat strike against the side of the vessel, and some +people come on board. Presently a face peered in at the +opening, strange and wild. I was half asleep, and at first +imagined I was dreaming, for the face seemed more like that of a +goat or an ogre than of a human being; its long beard almost +touching my face as I lay extended in a kind of berth. +Starting up, however, I recognized the singular-looking Jew whom +I had seen in the company of Judah Lib. He recognized me +also, and nodding, bent his huge features into a smile. I +arose and went upon deck, <a name="page336"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 336</span>where I found him in company with +another Jew, a young man in the dress of Barbary. They had +just arrived in the boat. I asked my friend of the beard +who he was, from whence he came, and where he was going? He +answered, in broken Portuguese, that he was returning from +Lisbon, where he had been on business, to Mogadore, of which +place he was a native. He then looked me in the face and +smiled, and taking out a book from his pocket, in Hebrew +characters, fell to reading it; whereupon a Spanish sailor on +board observed that with such a beard and book he must needs be a +<i>sabio</i>, or sage. His companion was from Mequinez, and +spoke only Arabic.</p> +<p>A large boat now drew nigh, the stern of which was filled with +Moors; there might be about twelve, and the greater part +evidently consisted of persons of distinction, as they were +dressed in all the pomp and gallantry of the East, with +snow-white turbans, <i>jabadores</i> of green silk or scarlet +cloth, and <i>bedeyas</i> rich with gold galloon. Some of +them were exceedingly fine men, and two amongst them, youths, +were strikingly handsome, and, so far from exhibiting the dark +swarthy countenance of Moors in general, their complexions were +of a delicate red and white. The principal personage, and +to whom all the rest paid much deference, was a tall athletic man +of about forty. He wore a vest of white quilted cotton, and +white <i>kandrisa</i>, whilst gracefully wound round his body, +and swathing the upper part of his head, was the <i>haik</i>, or +white flannel wrapping plaid, always held in so much estimation +by the Moors from the earliest period of their history. His +legs were bare, and his feet only protected from the ground by <a +name="page337"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 337</span>yellow +slippers. He displayed no further ornament than one large +gold earring, from which depended a pearl, evidently of great +price. A noble black beard, about a foot in length, touched +his muscular breast. His features were good, with the +exception of the eyes, which were somewhat small; their +expression, however, was evil; their glances were sullen; and +malignity and ill-nature were painted in every lineament of his +countenance, which seemed never to have been brightened with a +smile. The Spanish sailor, of whom I have already had +occasion to speak, informed me in a whisper, that he was a +<i>santurron</i>, <a name="citation337"></a><a +href="#footnote337" class="citation">[337]</a> or big saint, and +was so far back on his way from Mecca, adding, that he was a +merchant of immense wealth. It soon appeared that the other +Moors had merely attended him on board through friendly +politeness, as they all successively came to bid him adieu, with +the exception of two blacks, who were his attendants. I +observed that these blacks, when the Moors presented them their +hands at departing, invariably made an effort to press them to +their lips, which effort was as uniformly foiled, the Moors in +every instance, by a speedy and graceful movement, drawing back +their hand locked in that of the black, which they pressed +against their own heart; as much as to say, “though a negro +and a slave you are a Moslem, and being so, you are our +brother—Allah knows no distinctions.” The +boatman now went up to the <i>haji</i>, demanding payment, +stating, at the same time, that he had been on board three times +on his account, conveying his luggage. The sum which he +demanded appeared <a name="page338"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +338</span>exorbitant to the <i>haji</i>, who, forgetting that he +was a saint, and fresh from Mecca, fumed outrageously, and in +broken Spanish called the boatman thief. If there be any +term of reproach which stings a Spaniard (and such was the +boatman) more than another, it is that one; and the fellow no +sooner heard it applied to himself, than, with eyes sparkling +with fury, he put his fist to the <i>haji’s</i> nose, and +repaid the one opprobrious name by at least ten others equally +bad or worse. He would perhaps have proceeded to acts of +violence had he not been pulled away by the other Moors, who led +him aside, and I suppose either said or gave him something which +pacified him, as he soon got into his boat, and returned with +them on shore. The captain now arrived with his Jewish +secretary, and orders were given for setting sail.</p> +<p>At a little past twelve we were steering out of the bay of +Gibraltar. The wind was in the right quarter, but for some +time we did not make much progress, lying almost becalmed beneath +the lee of the hill; by degrees, however, our progress became +brisker, and in about an hour we found ourselves careering +smartly towards Tarifa.</p> +<p>The Jew secretary stood at the helm, and indeed appeared to be +the person who commanded the vessel, and who issued out all the +necessary orders, which were executed under the superintendence +of the old Genoese mate. I now put some questions to the +<i>haji</i>, but he looked at me askance with his sullen eye, +pouted with his lip, and remained silent; as much as to say, +“Speak not to me, I am holier than thou.” I +found his negroes, however, far more conversable. One of +them was old and ugly, the other about twenty, <a +name="page339"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 339</span>and as +well-looking as it is possible for a negro to be. His +colour was perfect ebony, his features exceedingly well-formed +and delicate, with the exception of the lips, which were too +full. The shape of his eyes was peculiar; they were rather +oblong than round, like those of an Egyptian figure. Their +expression was thoughtful and meditative. In every respect +he differed from his companion, even in colour (though both were +negroes), and was evidently a scion of some little-known and +superior race. As he sat beneath the mast gazing at the +sea, I thought he was misplaced, and that he would have appeared +to more advantage amidst boundless sands, and beneath a +date-tree, and then he might have well represented a +<i>Jin</i>. I asked him from whence he came; he replied +that he was a native of Fez, but that he had never known his +parents. He had been brought up, he added, in the family of +his present master, whom he had followed in the greater part of +his travels, and with whom he had thrice visited Mecca. I +asked him if he liked being a slave? Whereupon he replied, +that he was a slave no longer, having been made free for some +time past, on account of his faithful services, as had likewise +his companion. He would have told me much more, but the +<i>haji</i> called him away, and otherwise employed him, probably +to prevent his being contaminated by me.</p> +<p>Thus, avoided by the Moslems, I betook myself to the Jews, +whom I found nowise backward in cultivating an intimacy. +The sage of the beard told me his history, which in some respects +reminded me of that of Judah Lib, as it seemed that, a year or +two previous, he had quitted Mogadore in pursuit of his son, who +had betaken himself to Portugal. On the <a +name="page340"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 340</span>arrival, +however, of the father at Lisbon, he discovered that the fugitive +had, a few days before, shipped himself for the Brazils. +Unlike Judah in quest of his father, he now became weary, and +discontinued the pursuit. The younger Jew from Mequinez was +exceedingly gay and lively as soon as he perceived that I was +capable of understanding him, and made me smile by his humorous +account of Christian life, as he had observed it at Gibraltar, +where he had made a stay of about a month. He then spoke of +Mequinez, which, he said, was a <i>Jennut</i>, or Paradise, +compared with which Gibraltar was a sty of hogs. So great, +so universal is the love of country. I soon saw that both +these people believed me to be of their own nation: indeed, the +young one, who was much the most familiar, taxed me with being +so, and spoke of the infamy of denying my own blood. +Shortly before our arrival off Tarifa, universal hunger seemed to +prevail amongst us. The <i>haji</i> and his negroes +produced their store, and feasted on roast fowls, the Jews ate +grapes and bread, myself bread and cheese, whilst the crew +prepared a mess of anchovies. Two of them speedily came +with a large portion, which they presented to me with the +kindness of brothers: I made no hesitation in accepting their +present, and found the anchovies delicious. As I sat +between the Jews, I offered them some, but they turned away their +heads with disgust, and cried, <i>Haloof</i>. They at the +same time, however, shook me by the hand, and, uninvited, took a +small portion of my bread. I had a bottle of Cognac, which +I had brought with me as a preventive to sea-sickness, and I +presented it to them; but this they also refused, exclaiming, +<i>Harám</i>. I said nothing.</p> +<p><a name="page341"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 341</span>We +were now close to the lighthouse of Tarifa, and turning the head +of the bark towards the west, we made directly for the coast of +Africa. The wind was now blowing very fresh, and as we had +it almost in our poop, we sprang along at a tremendous rate, the +huge latine sails threatening every moment to drive us beneath +the billows, which an adverse tide raised up against us. +Whilst scudding along in this manner, we passed close under the +stern of a large vessel bearing American colours; she was tacking +up the straits, and slowly winning her way against the impetuous +Levanter. As we passed under her, I observed the poop +crowded with people gazing at us; indeed, we must have offered a +singular spectacle to those on board, who, like my young American +friend at Gibraltar, were visiting the Old World for the first +time. At the helm stood the Jew; his whole figure enveloped +in a gabardine, the cowl of which, raised above his head, gave +him almost the appearance of a spectre in its shroud; whilst upon +the deck, mixed with Europeans in various kinds of dresses, all +of them picturesque with the exception of my own, trod the +turbaned Moors, the <i>haik</i> of the <i>haji</i> flapping +loosely in the wind. The view they obtained of us, however, +could have been but momentary, as we bounded past them literally +with the speed of a racehorse, so that in about an hour’s +time we were not more than a mile’s distance from the +foreland on which stands the fortress Alminàr, and which +constitutes the boundary point of the bay of Tangier towards the +east. There the wind dropped and our progress was again +slow.</p> +<p>For a considerable time Tangier had appeared in sight. +Shortly after standing away from Tarifa, we had descried it in +the far distance, when it showed <a name="page342"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 342</span>like a white dove brooding on its +nest. The sun was setting behind the town when we dropped +anchor in its harbour, amidst half a dozen barks and felouks +about the size of our own, the only vessels which we saw. +There stood Tangier before us, and a picturesque town it was, +occupying the sides and top of two hills, one of which, bold and +bluff, projects into the sea where the coast takes a sudden and +abrupt turn. Frowning and battlemented were its walls, +either perched on the top of precipitous rocks, whose base was +washed by the salt billows, or rising from the narrow strand +which separates the hill from the ocean.</p> +<p>Yonder are two or three tiers of batteries, displaying heavy +guns, which command the harbour; above them you see the terraces +of the town rising in succession like steps for giants. But +all is white, perfectly white, so that the whole seems cut out of +an immense chalk rock, though true it is that you behold here and +there tall green trees springing up from amidst the whiteness: +perhaps they belong to Moorish gardens, and beneath them even now +peradventure is reclining many a dark-eyed Leila, akin to the +<i>houris</i>. Right before you is a high tower, or +minaret, not white but curiously painted, which belongs to the +principal mosque of Tangier; a black banner waves upon it, for it +is the feast of Ashor. A noble beach of white sand fringes +the bay from the town to the foreland of Alminàr. To +the east rise prodigious hills and mountains: they are Gibil Muza +and his chain; and yon tall fellow is the peak of Tetuan; the +grey mists of evening are enveloping their sides. Such was +Tangier, such its vicinity, as it appeared to me whilst gazing +from the Genoese bark.</p> +<p>A boat was now lowered from the vessel, in which <a +name="page343"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 343</span>the +captain, who was charged with the mail from Gibraltar, the Jew +secretary, and the <i>haji</i> and his attendant negroes departed +for the shore. I would have gone with them, but I was told +that I could not land that night, as ere my passport and bill of +health could be examined, the gates would be closed; so I +remained on board with the crew and the two Jews. The +former prepared their supper, which consisted simply of pickled +<i>tomates</i>, <a name="citation343a"></a><a +href="#footnote343a" class="citation">[343a]</a> the other +provisions having been consumed. The old Genoese brought me +a portion, apologizing at the same time for the plainness of the +fare. I accepted it with thanks, and told him that a +million better men than myself had a worse supper. I never +ate with more appetite. As the night advanced, the Jews +sang Hebrew hymns, and when they had concluded, demanded of me +why I was silent, so I lifted up my voice and chanted <i>Adun +Oulem</i>. <a name="citation343b"></a><a href="#footnote343b" +class="citation">[343b]</a></p> +<p><a name="page344"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +344</span>Darkness had now fallen over land and sea: not a sound +was heard save occasionally the distant barking of a dog from the +shore, or some plaintive Genoese ditty, which arose from a +neighbouring bark. The town seemed buried in silence and +gloom, no light, not even that of a taper, could be +descried. Turning our eyes in the direction of Spain, +however, we perceived a magnificent conflagration, seemingly +enveloping the side and head of one of the lofty mountains +northward of Tarifa. The blaze was redly reflected in the +waters of the strait; either the brushwood was burning or the +<i>carboneros</i> were plying their dusky toil. The Jews +now complained of weariness, and the younger, uncording a small +mattress, spread it on the deck and sought repose. The sage +descended into the cabin, but he had scarcely time to lie down +ere the old mate, darting forward, dived in after him, and pulled +him out by the heels, for it was very shallow, and the descent +was effected by not more than two or three steps. After +accomplishing this, he called him many opprobrious names, and +threatened him with his foot, as he lay sprawling on the +deck. “Think you,” said he, “who are a +dog and a Jew, and pay as a dog and a Jew; think you to sleep in +the cabin? Undeceive yourself, beast: that cabin shall be +slept in by none to-night but this Christian +<i>caballero</i>.” The sage made no reply, but arose +from the deck and stroked his beard, whilst the old Genoese +proceeded in his Philippic. Had the Jew been disposed, he +could have strangled the insulter in a moment, or crushed him to +death in his brawny arms, as I never remember to have seen a +figure so powerful and muscular; but he was evidently slow <a +name="page345"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 345</span>to anger, +and long-suffering. Not a resentful word escaped him, and +his features retained their usual expression of benignant +placidity.</p> +<p>I now assured the mate that I had not the slightest objection +to the Jew’s sharing the cabin with me, but rather wished +it, as there was room for us both and for more. +“Excuse me, Sir Cavalier,” replied the Genoese, +“but I swear to permit no such thing; you are young, and do +not know this <i>canaille</i> as I do, who have been backward and +forward to this coast for twenty years. If the beast is +cold, let him sleep below the hatches as I and the rest shall, +but that cabin he shall not enter.” Observing that he +was obstinate, I retired, and in a few minutes was in a sound +sleep, which lasted till daybreak. Twice or thrice, indeed, +I thought that a struggle was taking place near me; but I was so +overpowered with weariness, or “sleep drunken,” as +the Germans call it, that I was unable to arouse myself +sufficiently to discover what was going on. The truth is, +that three times during the night, the sage, feeling himself +uncomfortable in the open air by the side of his companion, +penetrated into the cabin, and was as many times dragged out by +his relentless old enemy, who, suspecting his intentions, kept +his eye upon him throughout the night.</p> +<p>About five I arose: the sun was shining brightly and +gloriously upon town, bay, and mountain; the crew were already +employed upon deck repairing a sail which had been shivered in +the wind of the preceding day. The Jews sat disconsolate on +the poop; they complained much of the cold they had suffered in +their exposed situation. Over the left eye of the sage I +observed a bloody cut, which he <a name="page346"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 346</span>informed me he had received from the +old Genoese after he had dragged him out of the cabin for the +last time. I now produced my bottle of Cognac, begging that +the crew would partake of it as a slight return for their +hospitality. They thanked me, and the bottle went its +round; it was last in the hands of the old mate, who, after +looking for a moment at the sage, raised it to his mouth, where +he kept it a considerable time longer than any of his companions, +after which he returned it to me with a low bow. The sage +now inquired what the bottle contained. I told him Cognac, +or <i>aguardiente</i>, whereupon with some eagerness he begged +that I would allow him to take a draught. “How is +this?” said I; “yesterday you told me that it was a +forbidden thing, an abomination.” +“Yesterday,” said he, “I was not aware that it +was brandy; I thought it was wine, which assuredly is an +abomination, and a forbidden thing.” “Is it +forbidden in the <i>Torah</i>?” I inquired. “Is +it forbidden in the law of God?” “I know +not,” said he; “but one thing I know, that the sages +have forbidden it.” “Sages like +yourself,” cried I with warmth; “sages like yourself, +with long beards and short understandings; the use of both drinks +is permitted, but more danger lurks in this bottle than in a tun +of wine. Well said my Lord the Nazarene, ‘ye strain +at a gnat, and swallow a camel;’ but as you are cold and +shivering, take the bottle and revive yourself with a small +portion of its contents.” He put it to his lips and +found not a single drop. The old Genoese grinned.</p> +<p>“<i>Bestia</i>,” said he, “I saw by your +looks that you wished to drink of that bottle, and I said within +me, even though I suffocate, yet will I not leave one drop <a +name="page347"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 347</span>of the +<i>aguardiente</i> of the Christian Cavalier to be wasted on that +Jew, on whose head may evil lightnings fall.”</p> +<p>“Now, Sir Cavalier,” he continued, “you can +go ashore: these two sailors shall row you to the Mole, and +convey your baggage where you think proper; may the Virgin bless +you wherever you go.”</p> +<h2><a name="page348"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +348</span>CHAPTER LV.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">The Mole—The Two Moors—Djmah of +Tangier—House of God—British Consul—Curious +Spectacle—The Moorish House—Joanna Correa—Ave +Maria.</p> +<p>So we rowed to the Mole, and landed. This Mole consists +at present of nothing more than an immense number of large loose +stones, which run about five hundred yards into the bay; they are +part of the ruins of a magnificent pier which the English, who +were the last foreign nation which held Tangier, destroyed when +they evacuated the place. <a name="citation348"></a><a +href="#footnote348" class="citation">[348]</a> The Moors +have never attempted to repair it: the surf at high water breaks +over it with great fury. I found it a difficult task to +pick my way over the slippery stones, and should once or twice +have fallen but for the kindness of the Genoese mariners. +At last we reached the beach, and were proceeding towards the +gate of the town, when two persons, Moors, came up to us. I +almost started at sight of the first: he was a huge old barbarian +with a white uncombed beard, dirty turban, <i>haik</i>, and +trousers, naked legs, and immense splay feet, the heels of which +stood out a couple of inches at least behind his rusty black +slippers.</p> +<p>“That is the captain of the port,” said one of the +<a name="page349"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 349</span>Genoese; +“pay him respect.” I accordingly doffed my hat +and cried, “<i>Sba alkheir a sidi</i>.” <a +name="citation349"></a><a href="#footnote349" +class="citation">[349]</a> “Are you +Englishmans?” shouted the old grisly giant. +“Englishmans, my lord,” I replied, and, advancing, +presented him my hand, which he nearly wrung off with his +tremendous gripe. The other Moor now addressed me in a +jargon composed of English, Spanish, and Arabic. A +queer-looking personage was he also, but very different in most +respects from his companion, being shorter by a head at least, +and less complete by one eye, for the left orb of vision was +closed, leaving him, as the Spaniards style it, <i>tuerto</i>; +he, however, far outshone the other in cleanliness of turban, +<i>haik</i>, and trousers. From what he jabbered to me, I +collected that he was the English consul’s <i>mahasni</i>, +or soldier; that the consul, being aware of my arrival, had +despatched him to conduct me to his house. He then motioned +me to follow him, which I did, the old port-captain attending us +to the gate, when he turned aside into a building, which I judged +to be a kind of custom-house from the bales and boxes of every +description piled up before it. We passed the gate and +proceeded up a steep and winding ascent. On our left was a +battery full of guns, pointing to the sea, and on our right a +massive wall, seemingly in part cut out of the hill: a little +higher up we arrived at an opening where stood the mosque which I +have already mentioned. As I gazed upon the tower I said to +myself, “Surely we have here a younger sister of the +Giralda of Seville.”</p> +<p>I know not whether the resemblance between the two edifices +has been observed by any other individual; and perhaps there are +those who would assert <a name="page350"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 350</span>that no resemblance exists, +especially if, in forming an opinion, they were much swayed by +size and colour: the hue of the Giralda is red, or rather +vermilion, whilst that which predominates in the Djmah of Tangier +is green, the bricks of which it is built being of that colour; +though between them, at certain intervals, are placed others of a +light red tinge, so that the tower is beautifully +variegated. With respect to size, standing beside the giant +witch of Seville, the Tangerine Djmah would show like a ten-year +sapling in the vicinity of the cedar of Lebanon, whose trunk the +tempests of five hundred years have worn. And yet I will +assert that the towers in other respects are one and the same, +and that the same mind and the same design are manifested in +both; the same shape do they exhibit, and the same marks have +they on their walls, even those mysterious arches graven on the +superfice of the bricks, emblematic of I know not what. The +two structures may, without any violence, be said to stand in the +same relation to each other as the ancient and modern +Moors. The Giralda is the world’s wonder, and the old +Moor was all but the world’s conqueror. The modern +Moor is scarcely known, and who ever heard of the tower of +Tangier? Yet examine it attentively, and you will find in +that tower much, very much, to admire, and certainly, if +opportunity enable you to consider the modern Moor minutely, you +will discover in him, and in his actions, amongst much that is +wild, uncouth, and barbarous, not a little capable of amply +rewarding laborious investigation.</p> +<p>As we passed the mosque I stopped for a moment before the +door, and looked in upon the interior: I saw nothing but a +quadrangular court paved with <a name="page351"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 351</span>painted tiles and exposed to the +sky; on all sides were arched <i>piazzas</i>, and in the middle +was a fountain, at which several Moors were performing their +ablutions. I looked around for the abominable thing and +found it not; the besetting sin of the pseudo-Christian Church +did not stare me in the face in every corner. “Come +here,” said I, “Papist, and take a lesson; here is a +house of God, in externals at least, such as a house of God +should be: four walls, a fountain, and the eternal firmament +above, which mirrors His glory. Dost thou build such houses +to the God who has said, ‘Thou shalt make to thyself no +graven image’? Fool, thy walls are stuck with idols; +thou callest a stone thy Father, and a piece of rotting wood the +Queen of Heaven. Fool, thou knowest not even the Ancient of +Days, and the very Moor can instruct thee. He at least +knows the Ancient of Days who has said, ‘Thou shalt have no +other gods but me.’”</p> +<p>And as I said these words I heard a cry like the roaring of a +lion, and an awful voice in the distance exclaim, “<i>Kapul +Udbagh</i>.” <a name="citation351"></a><a +href="#footnote351" class="citation">[351]</a></p> +<p>We now turned to the left through a passage which passed under +the tower, and had scarcely proceeded a few steps, when I heard a +prodigious hubbub of infantine voices: I listened for a moment, +and distinguished verses of the Koran; it was a school. +Another lesson for thee, Papist. Thou callest thyself a +Christian, yet the book of Christ thou persecutest; thou huntest +it even to the seashore, compelling it to seek refuge upon the +billows of the sea. Fool, learn a lesson from the Moor, who +teaches his child to repeat with its first accents the most +important portions of the book of his law, and considers <a +name="page352"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 352</span>himself +wise or foolish, according as he is versed in or ignorant of that +book; whilst thou, blind slave, knowest not what the book of thy +own law contains, nor wishest to know: yet art thou not to be +judged by thy own law? Idol-monger, learn consistency from +the Moor: he says that he shall be judged after his own law, and +therefore he prizes and gets by heart the entire book of his +law.</p> +<p>We were now at the consul’s house, a large roomy +habitation, built in the English style. The soldier led me +through a court into a large hall hung with the skins of all +kinds of ferocious animals, from the kingly lion to the snarling +jackal. Here I was received by a Jew domestic, who +conducted me at once to the consul, who was in his library. +He received me with the utmost frankness and genuine kindness, +and informed me that, having received a letter from his excellent +friend Mr. B---, in which I was strongly recommended, he had +already engaged me a lodging in the house of a Spanish woman, who +was, however, a British subject, and with whom he believed that I +should find myself as comfortable as it was possible to be in +such a place as Tangier. He then inquired if I had any +particular motive for visiting the place, and I informed him +without hesitation that I came with the intention of distributing +a certain number of copies of the New Testament in the Spanish +language amongst the Christian residents of the place. He +smiled, and advised me to proceed with considerable caution, +which I promised to do. We then discoursed on other +subjects, and it was not long before I perceived that I was in +the company of a most accomplished scholar, especially in the +Greek and Latin classics; he appeared likewise to be thoroughly +<a name="page353"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +353</span>acquainted with the Barbary empire and with the Moorish +character.</p> +<p>After half an hour’s conversation, exceedingly agreeable +and instructive to myself, I expressed a wish to proceed to my +lodging; whereupon he rang the bell, and, the same Jewish +domestic entering who had introduced me, he said to him in the +English language, “Take this gentleman to the house of +Joanna Correa, the Mahonese widow, and enjoin her, in my name, to +take care of him and attend to his comforts; by doing which she +will confirm me in the good opinion which I at present entertain +of her, and will increase my disposition to befriend +her.”</p> +<p>So, attended by the Jew, I now bent my steps to the lodging +prepared for me. Having ascended the street in which the +house of the consul was situated, we entered a small square which +stands about half way up the hill. This, my companion +informed me, was the <i>soc</i>, or market-place. A curious +spectacle here presented itself. All round the square were +small wooden booths, which very much resembled large boxes turned +on their sides, the lid being supported above by a string. +Before each of these boxes was a species of counter, or rather +one long counter ran in front of the whole line, upon which were +raisins, dates, and small barrels of sugar, soap, and butter, and +various other articles. Within each box, in front of the +counter, and about three feet from the ground, sat a human being, +with a blanket on its shoulders, a dirty turban on its head, and +ragged trousers, which descended as far as the knee, though in +some instances, I believe, these were entirely dispensed +with. In its hand it held a stick, to the end of which was +affixed a bunch of palm <a name="page354"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 354</span>leaves, which it waved incessantly +as a fan, for the purpose of scaring from its goods the million +flies which, engendered by the Barbary sun, endeavoured to settle +upon them. Behind it, and on either side, were piles of the +same kind of goods. <i>Shrit hinai</i>, <i>shrit hinai</i>, +<a name="citation354"></a><a href="#footnote354" +class="citation">[354]</a> was continually proceeding from its +mouth. Such are the grocers of Tangier, such their +shops.</p> +<p>In the middle of the <i>soc</i>, upon the stones, were +pyramids of melons and <i>sandias</i>, and also baskets filled +with other kinds of fruit, exposed for sale, whilst round cakes +of bread were lying here and there upon the stones, beside which +sat on their hams the wildest-looking beings that the most +extravagant imagination ever conceived, the head covered with an +enormous straw hat, at least two yards in circumference, the +eaves of which, flapping down, completely concealed the face, +whilst the form was swathed in a blanket, from which occasionally +were thrust skinny arms and fingers. These were Moorish +women, who were, I believe, in all instances, old and ugly, +judging from the countenances of which I caught a glimpse as they +lifted the eaves of their hats to gaze on me as I passed, or to +curse me for stamping on their bread. The whole <i>soc</i> +was full of people, and there was abundance of bustle, screaming, +and vociferation, and as the sun, though the hour was still +early, was shining with the greatest brilliancy, I thought that I +had scarcely ever witnessed a livelier scene.</p> +<p>Crossing the <i>soc</i>, we entered a narrow street with the +same kind of box-shops on each side, some of which, however, were +either unoccupied or not yet <a name="page355"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 355</span>opened, the lid being closed. +We almost immediately turned to the left, up a street somewhat +similar, and my guide presently entered the door of a low house +which stood at the corner of a little alley, and which he +informed me was the abode of Joanna Correa. We soon stood +in the midst of this habitation. I say the midst, as all +the Moorish houses are built with a small court in the +middle. This one was not more than ten feet square. +It was open at the top, and around it on three sides were +apartments: on the fourth a small staircase, which communicated +with the upper story, half of which consisted of a terrace +looking down into the court, over the low walls of which you +enjoyed a prospect of the sea and a considerable part of the +town. The rest of the story was taken up by a long room, +destined for myself, and which opened upon the terrace by a pair +of folding-doors. At either end of this apartment stood a +bed, extending transversely from wall to wall, the canopy +touching the ceiling. A table and two or three chairs +completed the furniture.</p> +<p>I was so occupied in inspecting the house of Joanna Correa, +that at first I paid little attention to that lady herself. +She now, however, came up upon the terrace where my guide and +myself were standing. She was a woman about five and forty, +with regular features, which had once been handsome, but had +received considerable injury from time, and perhaps more from +trouble. Two of her front teeth had disappeared, but she +still had fine black hair. As I looked upon her +countenance, I said within myself, if there be truth in +physiognomy, thou art good and gentle, O Joanna; and, indeed, the +kindness I experienced from her during the six weeks which I +spent beneath her <a name="page356"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +356</span>roof would have made me a convert to that science had I +doubted in it before. I believe no warmer and more +affectionate heart ever beat in human bosom than in that of +Joanna Correa, the Mahonese widow, and it was indexed by features +beaming with benevolence and good nature, though somewhat clouded +with melancholy.</p> +<p>She informed me that she had been married to a Genoese, the +master of a felouk which passed between Gibraltar and Tangier, +who had been dead about four years, leaving her with a family of +four children, the eldest of which was a lad of thirteen; that +she had experienced great difficulty in providing for her family +and herself since the death of her husband, but that Providence +had raised her up a few excellent friends, especially the British +consul; that besides letting lodgings to such travellers as +myself, she made bread which was in high esteem with the Moors, +and that she was likewise in partnership in the sale of liquors +with an old Genoese. She added that this last person lived +below in one of the apartments; that he was a man of great +ability and much learning, but that she believed he was +occasionally somewhat touched here, pointing with her finger to +her forehead, and she therefore hoped that I would not be +offended at anything extraordinary in his language or +behaviour. She then left me, as she said, to give orders +for my breakfast; whereupon the Jewish domestic, who had +accompanied me from the consul, finding that I was established in +the house, departed.</p> +<p>I speedily sat down to breakfast in an apartment on the left +side of the little <i>wustuddur</i>; the fare was excellent: tea, +fried fish, eggs, and grapes, not forgetting the celebrated bread +of Joanna Correa. I <a name="page357"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 357</span>was waited upon by a tall Jewish +youth of about twenty years, who informed me that his name was +Hayim Ben Attar, <a name="citation357a"></a><a +href="#footnote357a" class="citation">[357a]</a> that he was a +native of Fez, from whence his parents brought him at a very +early age to Tangier, where he had passed the greater part of his +life principally in the service of Joanna Correa, waiting upon +those who, like myself, lodged in the house. I had +completed my meal, and was seated in the little court, when I +heard in the apartment opposite to that in which I had +breakfasted several sighs, which were succeeded by as many +groans, and then came <i>Ave Maria</i>, <i>gratiâ +plena</i>, <i>ora pro me</i>, <a name="citation357b"></a><a +href="#footnote357b" class="citation">[357b]</a> and finally a +croaking voice chanted—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Gentem auferte perfidam<br /> +Credentium de finibus,<br /> +Ut Christo laudes debitas<br /> +Persolvamus alacriter.” <a name="citation357c"></a><a +href="#footnote357c" class="citation">[357c]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>“That is the old Genoese,” whispered Hayim Ben +Attar, “praying to his God, which he always does with +particular devotion when he happens to have gone to bed the +preceding evening rather in liquor. He has in his room a +picture of <i>Maria Buckra</i>, before which he generally burns a +taper, and on her account he will never permit me to enter his +apartment. He once caught me looking at her, and I thought +he would have killed me; and since then he always keeps his +chamber locked, and carries the key in his <a +name="page358"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 358</span>pocket when +he goes out. He hates both Jew and Moor, and says that he +is now living amongst them for his sins.”</p> +<p>“They do not place tapers before pictures,” said +I, and strolled forth to see the wonders of the land.</p> +<h2><a name="page359"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +359</span>CHAPTER LVI.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">The Mahasni—Sin Samani—The +Bazaar—Moorish Saints—See the Ayana!—The +Prickly Fig—Jewish Graves—The Place of +Carcases—The Stable Boy—Horses of the +Moslem—Dar-dwag.</p> +<p>I was standing in the market-place, a spectator of much the +same scene as I have already described, when a Moor came up to me +and attempted to utter a few words in Spanish. He was a +tall elderly man, with sharp but rather whimsical features, and +might have been called good looking, had he not been one-eyed, a +very common deformity in this country. <a +name="citation359"></a><a href="#footnote359" +class="citation">[359]</a> His body was swathed in an +immense <i>haik</i>. Finding that I could understand +Moorish, he instantly began talking with immense volubility, and +I soon learnt that he was a <i>mahasni</i>. He expatiated +diffusely on the beauties of Tangier, of which he said he was a +native, and at last exclaimed, “Come, my sultan, come, my +lord, and I will show you many things which will gladden your +eyes, and fill your heart with sunshine; it were a shame in me, +who have the advantage of being a son of Tangier, to permit a +stranger, who comes from an island in the great sea, as you tell +me you do, for the purpose of seeing <a name="page360"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 360</span>this blessed land, to stand here in +the <i>soc</i> with no one to guide him. By Allah, it shall +not be so. Make room for my sultan, make room for my +lord,” he continued, pushing his way through a crowd of men +and children who had gathered round us; “it is his +highness’ pleasure to go with me. This way, my lord, +this way;” and he led the way up the hill, walking at a +tremendous rate, and talking still faster. “This +street,” said he, “is the Siarrin, and its like is +not to be found in Tangier; observe how broad it is, even half +the breadth of the <i>soc</i> itself; here are the shops of the +most considerable merchants, where are sold precious articles of +all kinds. Observe those two men, they are Algerines and +good Moslems; they fled from Zair <a name="citation360"></a><a +href="#footnote360" class="citation">[360]</a> when the Nazarenes +conquered it, not by force of fighting, not by valour, as you may +well suppose, but by gold; the Nazarenes only conquer by +gold. The Moor is good, the Moor is strong, who so good and +strong? but he fights not with gold, and therefore he lost +Zair.</p> +<p>“Observe you those men seated on the benches by those +portals; they are <i>mokhasniah</i>, they are my brethren. +See their <i>haiks</i> how white, see their turbans how +white. Oh that you could see their swords in the day of +war, for bright, bright are their swords! Now they bear no +swords. Wherefore should they? is there not peace in the +land? See you him in the shop opposite? That is the +Pasha of Tangier, that is the Hamed Sin Samani, the under Pasha +of Tangier; the elder Pasha, my lord, is away on a journey; may +Allah send him a safe return. Yes, that is Hamed; he sits +in his <i>hanutz</i> as were he nought more than a merchant, yet +life and death <a name="page361"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +361</span>are in his hands. There he dispenses justice, +even as he dispenses the essence of the rose and cochineal, and +powder of cannon and sulphur; and these two last he sells on the +account of Abderrahman, my lord and sultan, for none can sell +powder and the sulphur dust in his land but the sultan. +Should you wish to purchase <i>attar del nuar</i>, <a +name="citation361"></a><a href="#footnote361" +class="citation">[361]</a> should you wish to purchase the +essence of the rose, you must go to the <i>hanutz</i> of Sin +Samani, for there only you will get it pure: you must receive it +from no common Moor, but only from Hamed. May Allah bless +Hamed. The <i>makhasniah</i>, my brethren, wait to do his +orders, for wherever sits the Pasha, there is a hall of +judgment. See, now we are opposite the bazaar; beneath yon +gate is the court of the bazaar; what will you not find in that +bazaar? Silks from Fez you will find there: and if you wish +for <i>sibat</i>, if you wish for slippers for your feet, you +must seek them there, and there also are sold curious things from +the towns of the Nazarenes. Those large houses on our left +are habitations of Nazarene consuls; you have seen many such in +your own land, therefore why should you stay to look at +them? Do you not admire this street of the Siarrin? +Whatever enters or goes out of Tangier by the land passes through +this street. Oh, the riches that pass through this +street! Behold those camels, what a long train; twenty, +thirty, a whole <i>cafila</i> descending the street. +<i>Wullah</i>! I know those camels, I know the +driver. Good day, O Sidi Hassim, in how many days from +Fez? And now we are arrived at the wall, and we must pass +under <a name="page362"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +362</span>this gate. This gate is called Bab del Faz; we +are now in the Soc de Barra.”</p> +<p>The Soc de Barra is an open place beyond the upper wall of +Tangier, on the side of the hill. The ground is irregular +and steep; there are, however, some tolerably level spots. +In this place, every Thursday <a name="citation362"></a><a +href="#footnote362" class="citation">[362]</a> and Sunday +morning, a species of mart is held, on which account it is called +Soc de Barra, or the outward market-place. Here and there, +near the town ditch, are subterranean pits, with small orifices, +about the circumference of a chimney, which are generally covered +with a large stone, or stuffed with straw. These pits are +granaries, in which wheat, barley, and other species of grain +intended for sale are stored. On one side are two or three +rude huts, or rather sheds, beneath which keep watch the +guardians of the corn. It is very dangerous to pass over +this hill at night, after the town gates are closed, as at that +time numerous large and ferocious dogs are let loose, who would +to a certainty pull down, and perhaps destroy, any stranger who +should draw nigh. Halfway up the hill are seen four white +walls, inclosing a spot about ten feet square, where rest the +bones of Sidi Mokhfidh, a saint of celebrity, who died some +fifteen years ago. Here terminates the <i>soc</i>; the +remainder of the hill is called El Kawar, or the place of graves, +being the common burying-ground of Tangier; the resting-places of +the dead are severally distinguished by a few stones arranged so +as to form an oblong circle. Near Mokhfidh sleeps Sidi +Gali; but the principal saint of Tangier lies interred on the top +of the hill, in the centre of a small plain. A beautiful +chapel or mosque, with <a name="page363"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 363</span>vaulted roof, is erected there in +his honour, which is in general adorned with banners of various +dyes. The name of this saint is Mohammed <i>el Haji</i>, +and his memory is held in the utmost veneration in Tangier and +its vicinity. His death occurred at the commencement of the +present century.</p> +<p>These details I either gathered at the time or on subsequent +occasions. On the north side of the <i>soc</i>, close by +the town, is a wall with a gate. “Come,” said +the old <i>mahasni</i>, giving a flourish with his hand; +“come, and I will show you the garden of a Nazarene +consul.” I followed him through the gate, and found +myself in a spacious garden laid out in the European taste, and +planted with lemon and pear trees, and various kinds of aromatic +shrubs. It was, however, evident that the owner chiefly +prided himself on his flowers, of which there were numerous +beds. There was a handsome summer-house, and art seemed to +have exhausted itself in making the place complete.</p> +<p>One thing was wanting, and its absence was strangely +remarkable in a garden at this time of the year; scarcely a leaf +was to be seen. The direst of all the plagues which +devastated Egypt was now busy in this part of Africa—the +locust was at work, and in no place more fiercely than in the +particular spot where I was now standing. All around looked +blasted. The trees were brown and bald as in winter. +Nothing green save the fruits, especially the grapes, huge +clusters of which were depending from the <i>parras</i>; for the +locust touches not the fruit whilst a single leaf remains to be +devoured. As we passed along the walks, these horrible +insects flew against us in every direction, and perished by +hundreds beneath our feet. “See the +<i>ayanas</i>,” said the old <i>mahasni</i>, <a +name="page364"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 364</span>“and +hear them eating. Powerful is the <i>ayana</i>, more +powerful than the sultan or the consul. Should the sultan +send all his <i>makhasniah</i> against the <i>ayana</i>, should +he send me with them, the <i>ayana</i> would say, ‘Ha! +ha!’ Powerful is the <i>ayana</i>! He fears not +the consul. A few weeks ago the consul said, ‘I am +stronger than the <i>ayana</i>, and I will extirpate him from the +land.’ So he shouted through the city, ‘O +Tangerines! speed forth to fight the <i>ayana</i>,—destroy +him in the egg; for know that whosoever shall bring me one pound +weight of the eggs of the <i>ayana</i>, unto him will I give five +<i>reals</i> of Spain; there shall be no <i>ayanas</i> this +year.’ So all Tangier rushed forth to fight the +<i>ayana</i>, and to collect the eggs which the <i>ayana</i> had +laid to hatch beneath the sand on the sides of the hills, and in +the roads, and in the plains. And my own child, who is +seven years old, went forth to fight the <i>ayana</i>, and he +alone collected eggs to the weight of five pounds, eggs which the +<i>ayana</i> had placed beneath the sand, and he carried them to +the consul, and the consul paid the price. And hundreds +carried eggs to the consul, more or less, and the consul paid +them the price, and in less than three days the treasure chest of +the consul was exhausted. And then he cried, ‘Desist, +O Tangerines! perhaps we have destroyed the <i>ayana</i>, perhaps +we have destroyed them all!’ Ha! ha! Look +around you, and beneath you, and above you, and tell me whether +the consul has destroyed the <i>ayana</i>. Oh, powerful is +the <i>ayana</i>! More powerful than the consul, more +powerful than the sultan and all his armies.” <a +name="citation364"></a><a href="#footnote364" +class="citation">[364]</a></p> +<p><a name="page365"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 365</span>It +will be as well to observe here, that within a week from this +time all the locusts had disappeared, no one knew how—only +a few stragglers remained. But for this providential +deliverance, the fields and gardens in the vicinity of Tangier +would have been totally devastated. These insects were of +an immense size, and of a loathly appearance.</p> +<p>We now passed over the <i>soc</i> to the opposite side, where +stand the huts of the guardians. Here a species of lane +presents itself, which descends to the seashore; it is deep and +precipitous, and resembles a gully or ravine. The banks on +either side are covered with the tree which bears the prickly +fig, called in Moorish, <i>Kermous del Inde</i>. <a +name="citation365"></a><a href="#footnote365" +class="citation">[365]</a> There is something wild and +grotesque in the appearance of this tree or plant, for I know not +which to call it. Its stem, though frequently of the +thickness of a man’s body, has no head, but divides itself, +at a short distance from the ground, into many crooked branches, +which shoot in all directions, and bear green and uncouth leaves, +about half an inch in thickness, and which, if they resemble +anything, present the appearance of the fore fins of a seal, and +consist of multitudinous fibres. The fruit, which somewhat +resembles a pear, has a rough tegument covered with minute +prickles, which instantly enter the hand which touches them, +however slightly, and are very difficult to extract. I +never remember to have seen vegetation in ranker luxuriance than +that which these fig-trees exhibited, nor upon the whole a more +singular spot. “Follow me,” said <a +name="page366"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 366</span>the +<i>mahasni</i>, “and I will show you something which you +will like to see.” So he turned to the left, leading +the way by a narrow path up the steep bank, till we reached the +summit of a hillock, separated by a deep ditch from the wall of +Tangier. The ground was thickly covered with the trees +already described, which spread their strange arms along the +surface, and whose thick leaves crushed beneath our feet as we +walked along. Amongst them I observed a large number of +stone slabs lying horizontally; they were rudely scrawled over +with odd characters, which stooped down to inspect. +“Are you <i>talib</i> enough read those signs?” +exclaimed the old Moor. “They are letters of the +accursed Jews; this is their <i>mearrah</i>, as they call it, and +here they inter their dead. Fools, they trust in Muza, when +they might believe in Mohammed, and therefore their dead shall +burn everlastingly in <i>Jehinnim</i>. See, my sultan, how +fat is the soil of this <i>mearrah</i> of the Jews; see what +<i>kermous</i> grow here. When I was a boy I often came to +the <i>mearrah</i> of the Jews to eat <i>kermous</i> in the +season of their ripeness. The Moslem boys of Tangier love +the <i>kermous</i> of the <i>mearrah</i> of the Jews; but the +Jews will not gather them. They say that the waters of the +springs which nourish the roots of these trees pass among the +bodies of their dead, and for that reason it is an abomination to +taste of these fruits. Be this true, or be it not, one +thing is certain, in whatever manner nourished, good are the +<i>kermous</i> which grow in the <i>mearrah</i> of the +Jews.”</p> +<p>We returned to the lane by the same path by which we had come: +as we were descending it he said, “Know, my sultan, that +the name of the place where we now are, and which you say you +like much, <a name="page367"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +367</span>is Dar-sinah. <a name="citation367a"></a><a +href="#footnote367a" class="citation">[367a]</a> You will +ask me why it bears that name, as you see neither house nor man, +neither Moslem, Nazarene, nor Jew, only our two selves; I will +tell you, my sultan, for who can tell you better than +myself? Learn, I pray you, that Tangier was not always what +it is now, nor did it occupy always the place which it does +now. It stood yonder (pointing to the east) on those hills +above the shore, and ruins of houses are still to be seen there, +and the spot is called Old Tangier. So in the old time, as +I have heard say, this Dar-sinah was a street, whether without or +within the wall matters not, and there resided men of all trades; +smiths of gold, and silver, and iron, and tin, and artificers of +all kinds. You had only to go to the Dar-sinah if you +wished for any thing wrought, and there instantly you would find +a master of the particular craft. My sultan tells me he +likes the look of Dar-sinah at the present day; truly I know not +why, especially as the <i>kermous</i> are not yet in their +ripeness, nor fit to eat. If he likes Dar-sinah now, how +would my sultan have liked it in the old time, when it was filled +with gold and silver, and iron and tin, and was noisy with the +hammers, and the masters and the cunning men? We are now +arrived at the <i>Chali del Bahar</i>. <a +name="citation367b"></a><a href="#footnote367b" +class="citation">[367b]</a> Take care, my sultan, we tread +upon bones.”</p> +<p>We had emerged from the Dar-sinah, and the seashore was before +us; on a sudden we found ourselves amongst a multitude of bones +of all kinds of animals, and seemingly of all dates; some being +blanched with time and exposure to sun and wind, whilst to <a +name="page368"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 368</span>others the +flesh still partly clung; whole carcases were here, horses, +asses, and even the uncouth remains of a camel. Gaunt dogs +were busy here, growling, tearing, and gnawing; amongst whom, +unintimidated, stalked the carrion vulture, fiercely battening +and even disputing with the brutes the garbage; whilst the crow +hovered overhead, and croaked wistfully, or occasionally perched +upon some upturned rib bone. “See,” said the +<i>mahasni</i>, “the <i>kawar</i> of the animals. My +sultan has seen the <i>kawar</i> of the Moslems and the +<i>mearrah</i> of the Jews; and he sees here the <i>kawar</i> of +the animals. All the animals which die in Tangier by the +hand of God—horse, dog, or camel—are brought to this +spot, and here they putrefy or are devoured by the birds of the +heaven or the wild creatures that prowl on the +<i>chali</i>. Come, my sultan, it is not good to remain +long in this place.”</p> +<p>We were preparing to leave the spot, when we heard a galloping +down the Dar-sinah, and presently a horse and rider darted at +full speed from the mouth of the lane and appeared upon the +strand: the horseman, when he saw us, pulled up his steed with +much difficulty, and joined us. The horse was small but +beautiful, a sorrel with long mane and tail; had he been +hoodwinked he might perhaps have been mistaken for a Cordovese +<i>jaca</i>; he was broad-chested, and rotund in his hind +quarters, and possessed much of the plumpness and sleekness which +distinguish that breed, but looking in his eyes you would have +been undeceived in a moment; a wild savage fire darted from the +restless orbs, and so far from exhibiting the docility of the +other noble and loyal animal, he occasionally plunged +desperately, <a name="page369"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +369</span>and could scarcely be restrained by a strong curb and +powerful arm from resuming his former head-long course. The +rider was a youth, apparently about eighteen, dressed as a +European, with a <i>montero</i> cap on his head: he was +athletically built, but with lengthy limbs, his feet, for he rode +without stirrups or saddle, reaching almost to the ground; his +complexion was almost as dark as that of a Mulatto; his features +very handsome, the eyes particularly so, but filled with an +expression which was bold and bad; and there was a disgusting +look of sensuality about the mouth. He addressed a few +words to the <i>mahasni</i>, with whom he seemed to be well +acquainted, inquiring who I was. The old man answered, +“O Jew, my sultan understands our speech, thou hadst better +address thyself to him.” The lad then spoke to me in +Arabic, but almost instantly dropping that language, proceeded to +discourse in tolerable French. “I suppose you are +French,” said he with much familiarity; “shall you +stay long in Tangier?” Having received an answer, he +proceeded, “as you are an Englishman, you are doubtless +fond of horses; know, therefore, whenever you are disposed for a +ride, I will accompany you, and procure you horses. My name +is Ephraim Fragey: I am stable-boy to the Neapolitan consul, who +prizes himself upon possessing the best horses in Tangier; you +shall mount any you please. Would you like to try this +little <i>aoud</i>?” I thanked him, but declined his +offer for the present, asking him at the same time how he had +acquired the French language, and why he, a Jew, did not appear +in the dress of his brethren? “I am in the service of +a consul,” said he, “and my master obtained +permission <a name="page370"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +370</span>that I might dress myself in this manner; and as to +speaking French, I have been to Marseilles and Naples, to which +last place I conveyed horses, presents from the sultan. +Besides French, I can speak Italian.” He then +dismounted, and holding the horse firmly by the bridle with one +hand, proceeded to undress himself, which having accomplished, he +mounted the animal and rode into the water. The skin of his +body was much akin in colour to that of a frog or toad, but the +frame was that of a young Titan. The horse took to the +water with great unwillingness, and at a small distance from the +shore commenced struggling with his rider, whom he twice dashed +from his back; the lad, however, clung to the bridle, and +detained the animal. All his efforts, however, being +unavailing to ride him deeper in, he fell to washing him +strenuously with his hands, then leading him out, he dressed +himself and returned by the way he came.</p> +<p>“Good are the horses of the Moslems,” said my old +friend; “where will you find such? They will descend +rocky mountains at full speed and neither trip nor fall; but you +must be cautious with the horses of the Moslems, and treat them +with kindness, for the horses of the Moslems are proud, and they +like not being slaves. When they are young and first +mounted, jerk not their mouths with your bit, for be sure if you +do they will kill you; sooner or later, you will perish beneath +their feet. Good are our horses, and good our riders, yea, +very good are the Moslems at mounting the horse; who are like +them? I once saw a Frank rider compete with a Moslem on +this beach, and at first the Frank rider had it all his own way, +and he passed the Moslem, but the course was <a +name="page371"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 371</span>long, very +long, and the horse of the Frank rider, which was a Frank also, +panted; but the horse of the Moslem panted not, for he was a +Moslem also, and the Moslem rider at last gave a cry and the +horse sprang forward and he overtook the Frank horse, and then +the Moslem rider stood up in his saddle. How did he +stand? Truly he stood on his head, and these eyes saw him; +he stood on his head in the saddle as he passed the Frank rider; +and he cried ha! ha! as he passed the Frank rider; and the Moslem +horse cried ha! ha! as he passed the Frank breed, and the Frank +lost by a far distance. Good are the Franks; good their +horses; but better are the Moslems, and better are the horses of +the Moslems.”</p> +<p>We now directed our steps towards the town, but not by the +path we came: turning to the left under the hill of the +<i>mearrah</i>, and along the strand, we soon came to a +rudely-paved way with a steep ascent, which wound beneath the +wall of the town to a gate, before which, on one side, were +various little pits like graves, filled with water or lime. +“This is Dar-dwag,” said the <i>mahasni</i>; +“this is the house of the bark, and to this house are +brought the hides; all those which are prepared for use in +Tangier are brought to this house, and here they are cured with +lime, and bran, and bark, and herbs. And in this Dar-dwag +there are one hundred and forty pits; I have counted them myself; +and there were more which have now ceased to be, for the place is +very ancient. And these pits are hired not by one, nor by +two, but by many people, and whosoever list can rent one of these +pits and cure the hides which he may need; but the owner of all +is one man, and his name is Cado Ableque. And now my sultan +has <a name="page372"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 372</span>seen +the house of the bark, and I will show him nothing more this day; +for to-day is <i>Youm al Jumal</i>, <a name="citation372"></a><a +href="#footnote372" class="citation">[372]</a> and the gates will +be presently shut whilst the Moslems perform their +devotions. So I will accompany my sultan to the guest +house, and there I will leave him for the present.”</p> +<p>We accordingly passed through a gate, and ascending a street +found ourselves before the mosque where I had stood in the +morning; in another minute or two we were at the door of Joanna +Correa. I now offered my kind guide a piece of silver as a +remuneration for his trouble, whereupon he drew himself up and +said—</p> +<p>“The silver of my sultan I will not take, for I consider +that I have done nothing to deserve it. We have not yet +visited all the wonderful things of this blessed town. On a +future day I will conduct my sultan to the castle of the +governor, and to other places which my sultan will be glad to +see; and when we have seen all we can, and my sultan is content +with me, if at any time he see me in the <i>soc</i> of a morning, +with my basket in my hand, and he see nothing in that basket, +then is my sultan at liberty as a friend to put grapes in my +basket, or bread in my basket, or fish or meat in my +basket. That will I not refuse of my sultan, when I shall +have done more for him than I have now. But the silver of +my sultan will I not take now nor at any time.” He +then waved his hand gently, and departed.</p> +<h2><a name="page373"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +373</span>CHAPTER LVII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Strange Trio—The Mulatto—The +Peace-offering—Moors of Granada—Vive la +Guadeloupe—The Moors—Pascual Fava—Blind +Algerine—The Retreat.</p> +<p>Three men were seated in the <i>wustuddur</i> of Joanna +Correa, when I entered; singular-looking men they all were, +though perhaps three were never gathered together more unlike to +each other in all points. The first on whom I cast my eye +was a man about sixty, dressed in a grey kerseymere coat with +short lappets, yellow waistcoat, and wide coarse canvas trousers; +upon his head was a very broad dirty straw hat, and in his hand +he held a thick cane with ivory handle; his eyes were bleared and +squinting, his face rubicund, and his nose much carbuncled. +Beside him sat a good-looking black, who perhaps appeared more +negro than he really was, from the circumstance of his being +dressed in spotless white jean—jerkin, waistcoat, and +pantaloons being all of that material: his head gear consisted of +a blue <i>montero</i> cap. His eyes sparkled like diamonds, +and there was an indescribable expression of good humour and fun +upon his countenance. The third man was a Mulatto, and by +far the most remarkable personage of the group: he might be +between thirty and forty; his body was very long, and, though +uncouthly put together, <a name="page374"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 374</span>exhibited every mark of strength and +vigour; it was cased in a <i>ferioul</i> of red wool, a kind of +garment which descends below the hips. His long, muscular, +and hairy arms were naked from the elbow, where the sleeves of +the <i>ferioul</i> terminate; his under limbs were short in +comparison with his body and arms; his legs were bare, but he +wore blue <i>kandrisa</i> as far as the knee; every feature of +his face was ugly, exceedingly and bitterly ugly, and one of his +eyes was sightless, being covered with a white film. By his +side on the ground was a large barrel, seemingly a water-cask, +which he occasionally seized with a finger and thumb, and waved +over his head as if it had been a quart pot. Such was the +trio who now occupied the <i>wustuddur</i> of Joanna Correa: and +I had scarcely time to remark what I have just recorded, when +that good lady entered from a back court with her handmaid +Johár, or the pearl, an ugly fat Jewish girl with an +immense mole on her cheek.</p> +<p>“<i>Que Dios remate tu nombre</i>,” exclaimed the +Mulatto; “may Allah blot out your name, Joanna, and may he +likewise blot out that of your maid Johár. It is +more than fifteen minutes that I have been seated here, after +having poured out into the <i>tinaja</i> the water which I +brought from the fountain, and during all that time I have waited +in vain for one single word of civility from yourself or from +Johár. <i>Usted no tiene modo</i>, you have no +manner with you, nor more has Johár. This is the +only house in Tangier where I am not received with fitting love +and respect, and yet I have done more for you than for any other +person. Have I not filled your <i>tinaja</i> with water +when other people have gone without a drop? When even the +consul and the <a name="page375"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +375</span>interpreter of the consul had no water to slake their +thirst, have you not had enough to wash your +<i>wustuddur</i>? And what is my return? When I +arrive in the heat of the day, I have not one kind word spoken to +me, nor so much as a glass of <i>makhiah</i> offered to me; must +I tell you all that I do for you, Joanna? Truly I must, for +you have no manner with you. Do I not come every morning +just at the third hour; and do I not knock at your door; and do +you not arise and let me in, and then do I not knead your bread +in your presence, whilst you lie in bed, and because I knead it +is not yours the best bread in Tangier? For am I not the +strongest man in Tangier, and the most noble also?” +Here he brandished his barrel over his head, and his face looked +almost demoniacal. “Hear me, Joanna,” he +continued, “you know that I am the strongest man in +Tangier, and I tell you again for the thousandth time, that I am +the most noble. Who are the consuls? Who is the +Pasha? They are Pashas and consuls now, but who were their +fathers? I know not, nor do they. But do I not know +who <i>my</i> fathers; were? Were they not Moors of Garnata +(<i>Granada</i>), <a name="citation375"></a><a +href="#footnote375" class="citation">[375]</a> and is it not on +that account that I am <a name="page376"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 376</span>the strongest man in Tangier? +Yes, I am of the old Moors of Garnata, and my family has lived +here, as is well known, since Garnata was lost to the Nazarenes, +and now I am the only one of my family of the blood of the old +Moors in all this land, and on that account I am of nobler blood +than the sultan, for the sultan is not of the blood of the Moors +of Garnata. Do you laugh, Joanna? Does your maid +Johár laugh? Am I not Hammin Widdir, <i>el hombre +mas valido de Tanger</i>? <a name="citation376a"></a><a +href="#footnote376a" class="citation">[376a]</a> And is it +not true that I am of the blood of the Moors of Garnata? +Deny it, and I will kill you both, you and your maid +Johár.”</p> +<p>“You have been eating <i>hsheesh</i> and <i>majoon</i>, +Hammin,” said Joanna Correa, “and the +<i>Shaitán</i> has entered into you, as he but too +frequently does. I have been busy, and so has Johár, +or we should have spoken to you before; however, <i>ma +ydoorshee</i>, <a name="citation376b"></a><a href="#footnote376b" +class="citation">[376b]</a> I know how to pacify you now and at +all times; will you take some gin-bitters, or a glass of common +<i>makhiah</i>?”</p> +<p>“May you burst, O Joanna,” said the Mulatto, +“and may Johár also burst; I mean, may you both live +many years, and know neither pain nor sorrow. I will take +the gin-bitters, O Joanna, because they are stronger than the +<i>makhiah</i>, which always appears to me like water; and I like +not water, though I <a name="page377"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 377</span>carry it. Many thanks to you, +Joanna; here is health to you, Joanna, and to this good +company.”</p> +<p>She had handed him a large tumbler filled to the brim; he put +it to his nostrils, snuffed in the flavour, and then, applying it +to his mouth, removed it not whilst one drop of the fluid +remained. His features gradually relaxed from their former +angry expression, and looking particularly amiable at Joanna, he +at last said—</p> +<p>“I hope that within a little time, O Joanna, you will be +persuaded that I am the strongest man in Tangier, and that I am +sprung from the blood of the Moors of Garnata, as then you will +no longer refuse to take me for a husband, you and your maid +Johár, and to become Moors. What a glory to you, +after having been married to a <i>Genoui</i>, and given birth to +<i>Genouillos</i>, to receive for husband a Moor like me, and to +bear him children of the blood of Garnata! What a glory, +too, for Johár!—how much better than to marry a vile +Jew, even like Hayim Ben Attar, or your cook Sabia, both of whom +I could strangle with two fingers, for am I not Hammin Widdir, +<i>Moro de Garnata</i>, <i>el hombre mas valido de +Tanger</i>?” He then shouldered his barrel and +departed.</p> +<p>“Is that Mulatto really what he pretends to be?” +said I to Joanna; “is he a descendant of the Moors of +Granada?”</p> +<p>“He always talks about the Moors of Granada, when he is +mad with <i>majoon</i> or <i>aguardiente</i>,” interrupted, +in bad French, the old man whom I have before described, and in +the same croaking voice which I had heard chanting in the +morning. “Nevertheless it may be true, and if he had +not heard something of the kind from his parents, he would <a +name="page378"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 378</span>never have +imagined such a thing, for he is too stupid. As I said +before, it is by no means impossible: many of the families of +Granada settled down here when their town was taken by the +Christians, but the greater part went to Tunis. When I was +there, I lodged in the house of a Moor who called himself Zegri, +<a name="citation378"></a><a href="#footnote378" +class="citation">[378]</a> and was always talking of Granada and +the things which his forefathers had done there. He would +moreover sit for hours singing romances of which I understood not +one word, praised be the Mother of God, but which he said all +related to his family: there were hundreds of that name in Tunis, +therefore why should not this Hammin, this drunken water-carrier, +be a Moor of Granada also? He is ugly enough to be emperor +of all the Moors. Oh, the accursed <i>canaille</i>! I +have lived amongst them for my sins these eight years, at Oran +and here. <i>Monsieur</i>, do you not consider it to be a +hard case for an old man like myself, who am a Christian, to live +amongst a race who know not God, nor Christ, nor anything +holy?”</p> +<p>“What do you mean?” said I, “by asserting +that the Moors know not God? There is no people in the +world who entertain sublimer notions of the uncreated eternal God +than the Moors, and no people have ever shown themselves more +zealous for His honour and glory: their very zeal for the glory +of God has been and is the chief obstacle to their becoming +Christians. They are afraid of compromising His dignity by +supposing that He ever condescended to become man. And with +respect to Christ, their ideas even of Him are much more just +than those of the Papists; they say He is a mighty prophet, +whilst, according to the others, He is either <a +name="page379"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 379</span>a piece of +bread, or a helpless infant. In many points of religion the +Moors are wrong, dreadfully wrong; but are the Papists less +so? And one of their practices sets them immeasurably below +the Moors in the eyes of any unprejudiced person: they bow down +to idols, Christian idols if you like, but idols still, things +graven of wood, and stone, and brass; and from these things, +which can neither hear, nor speak, nor feel, they ask and expect +to obtain favours.”</p> +<p>“<i>Vive la France</i>, <i>Vive la +Guadeloupe</i>!” said the black, with a good French +accent. “In France and in Guadeloupe there is no +superstition, and they pay as much regard to the Bible as to the +Koran; I am now learning to read, in order that I may understand +the writings of Voltaire, who, as I am told, has proved that both +the one and the other were written with the sole intention of +deceiving mankind. <i>O</i>, <i>vive la France</i>! where +will you find such an enlightened country as France; and where +will you find such a plentiful country as France? Only one +in the world, and that is Guadeloupe. Is it not so, +Monsieur Pascual? Were you ever at Marseilles? <i>Ah +quel bon pays est celui-là pour les vivres</i>, <i>pour +les petits poulets</i>, <i>pour les poulardes</i>, <i>pour les +perdrix</i>, <i>pour les perdreaux</i>, <i>pour les +alouettes</i>, <i>pour les bécasses</i>, <i>pour les +bécassines</i>, <i>enfin</i>, <i>pour tout</i>.”</p> +<p>“Pray, sir, are you a cook?” demanded I.</p> +<p>“<i>Monsieur</i>, <i>je le suis pour vous rendre +service</i>, <i>mon nom c’est Gérard</i>, <i>et +j’ai l’honneur d’être chef de cuisine +chez monsieur le consul Hollandois</i>. <i>A present je +prie permission de vous saluer</i>; <i>il faut que j’aille +à la maison pour faire le diner de mon +maître</i>.”</p> +<p>At four I went to dine with the British consul. Two +other English gentlemen were present, who <a +name="page380"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 380</span>had arrived +at Tangier from Gibraltar about ten days previously for a short +excursion, and were now detained longer than they wished by the +Levant wind. They had already visited the principal towns +in Spain, and proposed spending the winter either at Cadiz or +Seville. One of them, Mr. ---, struck me as being one of +the most remarkable men I had ever conversed with: he travelled +not for diversion nor instigated by curiosity, but merely with +the hope of doing spiritual good, chiefly by conversation. +The consul soon asked me what I thought of the Moors and their +country. I told him that what I had hitherto seen of both +highly pleased me. He said that were I to live amongst them +ten years, as he had done, he believed I should entertain a very +different opinion; that no people in the world were more false +and cruel; that their government was one of the vilest +description, with which it was next to an impossibility for any +foreign power to hold amicable relations, as it invariably acted +with bad faith, and set at nought the most solemn treaties. +That British property and interests were every day subjected to +ruin and spoliation, and British subjects exposed to unheard-of +vexations, without the slightest hope of redress being offered, +save recourse was had to force, the only argument to which the +Moors were accessible. He added, that towards the end of +the preceding year an atrocious murder had been perpetrated in +Tangier: a Genoese family of three individuals had perished, all +of whom were British subjects, and entitled to the protection of +the British flag. The murderers were known, and the +principal one was even now in prison for the fact; yet all +attempts to bring him to condign punishment had hitherto proved +abortive, as he was a Moor, and his victims Christians. <a +name="page381"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 381</span>Finally, he +cautioned me not to take walks beyond the wall unaccompanied by a +soldier, whom he offered to provide for me should I desire it, as +otherwise I incurred great risk of being ill-treated by the Moors +of the interior, whom I might meet, or perhaps murdered; and he +instanced the case of a British officer who not long since had +been murdered on the beach for no other reason than being a +Nazarene, and appearing in a Nazarene dress. He at length +introduced the subject of the Gospel, and I was pleased to learn +that, during his residence in Tangier, he had distributed a +considerable quantity of Bibles amongst the natives in the Arabic +language, and that many of the learned men, or <i>talibs</i>, had +read the holy volume with great interest, and that by this +distribution, which, it is true, was effected with much caution, +no angry or unpleasant feeling had been excited. He finally +asked whether I had come with the intention of circulating the +Scripture amongst the Moors.</p> +<p>I replied that I had no opportunity of doing so, as I had not +one single copy either in the Arabic language or character. +That the few Testaments which were in my possession were in the +Spanish language, and were intended for circulation amongst the +Christians of Tangier, to whom they might be serviceable, as they +all understood the language.</p> +<p>It was night, and I was seated in the <i>wustuddur</i> of +Joanna Correa, in company with Pascual Fava, the Genoese. +The old man’s favourite subject of discourse appeared to be +religion, and he professed unbounded love for the Saviour, and +the deepest sense of gratitude for his miraculous atonement for +the sins of mankind. I should have listened to him with +pleasure had he not smelt very strongly of liquor, <a +name="page382"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 382</span>and by +certain incoherences of language and wildness of manner given +indications of being in some degree the worse for it. +Suddenly two figures appeared beneath the doorway; one was that +of a bareheaded and bare-legged Moorish boy of about ten years of +age, dressed in a <i>gelaba</i>. He guided by the hand an +old man, whom I at once recognized as one of the Algerines, the +good Moslems of whom the old <i>mahasni</i> had spoken in terms +of praise in the morning whilst we ascended the street of the +Siarrin. He was very short of stature and dirty in his +dress; the lower part of his face was covered with a stubbly +white beard; before his eyes he wore a large pair of spectacles, +from which he evidently received but little benefit, as he +required the assistance of the guide at every step. The two +advanced a little way into the <i>wustuddur</i>, and there +stopped. Pascual Fava no sooner beheld them, than assuming +a jovial air he started nimbly up, and leaning on his stick, for +he had a bent leg, limped to a cupboard, out of which he took a +bottle and poured out a glass of wine, singing in the broken kind +of Spanish used by the Moors of the coast—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Argelino,<br /> +Moro fino,<br /> +No beber vino,<br /> +Ni comer tocino.” <a name="citation382"></a><a +href="#footnote382" class="citation">[382]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>He then handed the wine to the old Moor, who drank it off, and +then, led by the boy, made for the door without saying a +word.</p> +<p><a name="page383"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +383</span>“<i>Hade mushe halal</i>,” <a +name="citation383a"></a><a href="#footnote383a" +class="citation">[383a]</a> said I to him with a loud voice.</p> +<p>“<i>Cul shee halal</i>,” <a +name="citation383b"></a><a href="#footnote383b" +class="citation">[383b]</a> said the old Moor, turning his +sightless and spectacled eyes in the direction from which my +voice reached him. “Of everything which God has +given, it is lawful for the children of God to +partake.”</p> +<p>“Who is that old man?” said I to Pascual Fava, +after the blind and the leader of the blind had departed. +“Who is he!” said Pascual; “who is he! He +is a merchant now, and keeps a shop in the Siarrin, but there was +a time when no bloodier pirate sailed out of Algier. That +old blind wretch has cut more throats than he has hairs in his +beard. Before the French took the place he was the +<i>rais</i> or captain of a frigate, and many was the poor +Sardinian vessel which fell into his hands. After that +affair he fled to Tangier, and it is said that he brought with +him a great part of the booty which he had amassed in former +times. Many other Algerines came hither also, or to Tetuan, +but he is the strangest guest of them all. He keeps +occasionally very extraordinary company for a Moor, and is rather +over-intimate with the Jews. Well, that’s no business +of mine; only let him look to himself. If the Moors should +once suspect him, it were all over with him. Moors and +Jews, Jews and Moors! Oh my poor sins, my poor sins, that +brought me to live amongst them!—</p> +<blockquote><p> “‘Ave maris stella,<br /> +Dei Mater alma,<br /> +Atque semper virgo,<br /> +Felix cœli porta!’” <a +name="citation383c"></a><a href="#footnote383c" +class="citation">[383c]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="page384"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 384</span>He +was proceeding in this manner when I was startled by the sound of +a musket.</p> +<p>“That is the retreat,” said Pascual Fava. +“It is fired every night in the <i>soc</i> at half-past +eight, and it is the signal for suspending all business, and +shutting up. I am now going to close the doors, and +whosoever knocks, I shall not admit them till I know their +voice. Since the murder of the poor Genoese last year, we +have all been particularly cautious.”</p> +<p>Thus had passed Friday, the sacred day of the Moslems, and the +first which I had spent in Tangier. I observed that the +Moors followed their occupations as if the day had nothing +particular in it. Between twelve and one, the hour of +prayer in the mosque, the gates of the town were closed, and no +one permitted either to enter or go out. There is a +tradition current amongst them, that on this day, and at this +hour, their eternal enemies, the Nazarenes, will arrive to take +possession of their country; on which account they hold +themselves prepared against a surprisal.</p> +<h2><a name="page385"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +385</span>GLOSSARY.</h2> +<p>In the following pages a translation only has been given, as a +rule, of the Romany words, but references have been added which +will enable <i>los del aficion</i> to acquire fuller knowledge +elsewhere. It is only right to state that for any +philological theories advanced in this part of the Glossary the +late Mr. Burke is not responsible.—H. W. G.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">List of +Abbreviations</span>.</p> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p>A.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Ascoli, Zigeunerisches. 1865.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>F.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Francisque-Michel, Le Pays Basque. 1857.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>G.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Journal of the Gypsy Lore Society. 1888–1892.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Gr.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Groome, In Gipsy Tents. 1880.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>H.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Hidalgo, Romances de Germanía. 1779.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>J.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Jimenez, Vocabulario del Dialecto Jitano. 1853.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Lel.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Leland, The Gypsies.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>LL.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Borrow, Romano Lavo-Lil. 1888.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>M.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Miklosich, Ueber die Mundarten und die Wanderungen der +Zigeuner Europa’s. 1872–1880.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>McR.</p> +</td> +<td><p>MacRitchie, The Gypsies of India. 1886.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>P.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Pott, Die Zigeuner in Europa und Asien. 1844–5.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Pp.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Paspati, Etudes sur les Tchinghianés ou +Bohémiens de l’Empire Ottoman. 1870.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>R.</p> +</td> +<td><p>De Rochas, Les Parias de France et d’Espagne. +1876.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>S.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Smith, Tent Life with English Gypsies in Norway. 1873.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>SC.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Smart and Crofton, The Dialect of the English Gypsies.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>W.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Wlislocki, Die Sprache der transsilvanischen Zigeuner. +1884.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Z.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Borrow, The Zincali, 3rd edit. 1843.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p><span class="smcap">A</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +O! <i>A sidi</i>, “<i>O my lord</i>!”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Á</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> To.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Abajar</span>. <i>Span</i>. To +descend.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Acána</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> Now. P. ii. 124; A. 21; W. 70.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Aduana</span>. <i>Span.</i> +The custom-house. Fr. <i>la douane</i>, from Arab. <a +name="page386"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +386</span><i>diwán</i>; either as a council or as an +account-book.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Adun</span>. <i>Hebr.</i> +Lord; <i>Adon</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Aficion</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Affection. <i>Los del aficion</i>, “those of the +predilection,” persons addicted to the gypsies and their +language. Z. ii. 58.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Afrancesado</span>. +<i>Span.</i> Frenchified.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Agoa</span>. <i>Port.</i> +Water. Span. <i>agua</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Aguador</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +water-carrier.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Aguardiente</span>. +<i>Span.</i> <i>Agua ardiente</i>, fire-water; coarse +native spirit; Spanish brandy.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Alameda</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +public promenade in or near a town, planted with trees. +Lit. a place of poplars, from Span. <i>álamo</i>, a +poplar.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Alcahuete</span>. <i>Span.</i> +A spy; a pimp. Arab. <i>al ḳawwād</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Alcalá</span>. +<i>Span.</i> The fort. Arab, +<i>al-ḳal‘ah</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Alcalde</span>. <i>Span.</i> +The mayor or chief magistrate of a town or village. Arab. +<i>al ḳádi</i>, the judge.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Alcalde mayor</span>. The chief +magistrate of a district.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Alcayde</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +governor of a castle or fortress. Arab. <i>al +ḳáid</i>, the general. In more modern +parlance, the governor of a prison, a jailer.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Alcazar</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +castle; palace; a fortress. Arab. <i>al +ḳaṣr</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Alcornoque</span>. +<i>Span.</i> The cork tree, <i>Quercus suber</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Aldea</span>. <i>Span</i>. and +<i>Port.</i> A village.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Alecrim</span>. <i>Port.</i> +Rosemary. A word said to be of Arabic origin, perhaps <i>al +karím</i>, a precious thing. The Spanish +<i>romero</i>, or pilgrim flower (see note, i. 47). The +English word is said to be derived from <i>ros marinus</i>, dew +of the sea.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Alem</span>. <i>Port.</i> +Beyond. <i>Alemtejo</i>, the district beyond the Tagus.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Alfandega</span>. <i>Port.</i> +Custom-house. The Arab. <i>funduḳ</i>, a large +house.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Alforjas, las</span>. +<i>Span.</i> Saddle-bags. Arab. <i>al khurj</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Algibe</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +vaulted subterranean cistern for storing water. Arab. +<i>jubb</i>, a reservoir.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Alguacil</span> or <span +class="smcap">Alguazil</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +constable, or peace-officer. Arab. <i>al wazir</i>, the +vizier, governor, deputy, or minister.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Alhaja</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Any precious article, a jewel. Probably from the Arab, +<i>al-hadja</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Alhama</span>. Stated by Borrow (i. +394) to be a Moorish word, meaning “warm +baths.” Apparently the Arab, <i>al +ḥammām</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Alkheir</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Of good.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Alma</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Soul.</p> +<p><a name="page387"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 387</span><span +class="smcap">Almocreves</span>. <i>Port.</i> +Muleteers or carriers. A word of Arabic origin, <i>al +mukāri</i>, like the Spanish <i>arriero.</i></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Alquilador</span>. <i>Span. and +Port.</i> A letter on hire of anything, especially of +horses. <i>Alquilar</i>, in Spanish, signifies to give or +lend on hire. <i>Alquiler</i>, to take or borrow for +reward. The converse, <i>inquiler</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Alto</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> High.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Amiga</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A mistress, or concubine. Lit. a female +friend.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Amigo</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A friend.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Anciña +Anciñaco</span>. <i>Basque</i>. The ancient of +the ancient.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Andalou</span>. <i>Rom.</i> An +Andalusian.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">André</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> In. P. ii. 56.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Anise-brandy</span>. +<i>Eng.</i> A cordial, something like the French +<i>anisette</i>. The anise (<i>Pimpinella anisum</i>) is +largely cultivated in Spain, where it is known as +<i>anis</i>. The seed is dried and exported, the aniseed of +the English cake-makers.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Aoud</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +According to Borrow, a stallion. It is the Moorish +‘<i>aud</i> = horse.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Aquel</span>. <i>Span.</i> +That.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Arco</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A bow, an arch.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Ardoa</span>. Guipuzcoan and +Biscayan for <i>arno</i>,<i> arnoa</i>, wine, the final <i>a</i> +being the definite article.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Argelino</span>. <i>Span.</i> +A native of Algiers.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Armada</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A fleet, or navy.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Aromáli</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> Truly. <i>Arromales</i> = +<i>caramba</i>. J.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Arriero</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Muleteer; one who cries <i>arrhé</i> or +<i>harré</i>, Arabic “Gee up!” The older +form of <i>Harriero</i>, given in the Dictionary of the Spanish +Academy, more clearly preserves this etymology.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Arroba</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A weight equal to about 25 lbs. +English. Arab, <i>ar ruba</i>‘, a quarter.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Arroyo</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +brook, stream.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Artesano</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Artisan, workman.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Ashor</span>. <i>Hebr.</i> +Jewish feast of the tenth (day), ‘<i>āsor</i>. +It is really the Arabic ‘<i>ashūrā</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Atajo</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +short cut, material or moral; an expedient of any kind. +Lit. a tying; <i>atar</i>, to tie.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Atalaya</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +watch-tower. Port. <i>atalaia</i>. A word of Arabic +origin; <i>aṭ-ṭalí‘ah</i>, a view.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Attar</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Essence. More correctly, ‘<i>aṭar</i>. +Frequently in combination. The Eng. <i>otto</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Auslandra</span>. +<i>Milan.</i> The meaning of this word is given by Borrow +himself as “to roam about in a dissipated +manner.” It is <a name="page388"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 388</span>obviously the Germ. <i>Ausland</i>, +“a foreign country,” made into an Italian verb. +On the authority of the native of Como, whom Borrow met at Cerrig +y Drudion, it was considered a vulgar word, even in the +<i>gergo</i> of the Milanese, and that it is so may be proved by +a reference to Cherubini, <i>Vocabolario Milanese-Italiano</i>, +s.v. <i>Slándra</i>, <i>Slandrà</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Auto da fé</span>. +<i>Port.</i> Span. <i>auto de fé</i>. +Execution of persons condemned by the Inquisition.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Avellana</span>. <i>Span.</i> +A filbert.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Ayana</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +According to Borrow, a locust. It is not an ordinary Arabic +word, possibly of some North African dialect.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Azabache</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Jet. The Arab, <i>as-sabaj</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Azabacheria</span>. +<i>Span.</i> Jet-market.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Azinheira</span>. <i>Port.</i> +The holm-oak.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Azumbre</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +measure for liquids, the eighth of an <i>arroba</i>, equal to +about half a gallon. From the Arab. <i>ath-thumn</i> = the +eighth.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">Bab</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Gate. <i>Bab del Faz</i>, gate of Fez.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bacalhão</span>. +<i>Port.</i> (In <i>Span.</i> <span +class="smcap">Bacallao</span> or <span +class="smcap">Abadejo)</span>. Salt cod, commonly imported +from the Newfoundland coast.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bahar</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Sea.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bahi</span> or <span +class="smcap">Baji</span>. <i>Rom.</i> Fortune. +<i>Penar baji</i>, <i>decir la buena ventura</i>, to tell +fortunes. According to Borrow, the Sanscrit and Persian +<i>baḥkt</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bakh, Bok</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Luck. <i>Kosko bakh</i>, “Good luck to +you!” P. ii. 398; A. 47; M. vii. 14.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Balad</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Land. Also <i>beled</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Balichó</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> A hog. P. ii. 420; A. 54; M. vii. 15.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bar</span>. <i>Aram.</i> +Son.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bar</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +stone. P. ii. 409; M. vii. 16.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bar Lachí</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> The loadstone; a gypsy charm or talisman. +Lit. “the good stone.” See <span +class="smcap">Lachó</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Baria</span>. <i>Rom.</i> Used +by Borrow in ch. x., and given in Z. ii. 147, as +<i>Germanía</i>, or thieves’ slang, for a gold +<i>onza</i> (q.v.). Cf. <i>varia</i> = weight. A. +12. It is also the plural of <i>bar</i>, used by English +gypsies for a sovereign. The correct Gitano for <i>onza</i> +is <i>jara</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Baribú, Baributre, +Baribustre</span>. <i>Rom.</i> Plenty, much. P. +ii. 400; M. vii. 17.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Baro</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Great. <i>Len Baro</i> = the great river, the +Guadalquivir. <i>Hokkano Baro</i> = the great trick. +See <span class="smcap">Hok</span>. P. ii. 411; A. 59; M. +vii. 17.</p> +<p><a name="page389"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 389</span><span +class="smcap">Barra</span>. <i>Arab.</i> Outside; out +of the town. See <span class="smcap">Soc</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Barraganeria</span>. +<i>Span.</i> Concubinage. See note, i. 157.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Barranco, Barranca</span>. +<i>Span.</i> A fissure in a hill, a deep cleft, made by the +action of water; a precipice.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Barrete</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +helmet, cap.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Barrio</span>. <i>Span.</i> +One of the quarters or districts into which a large town is +divided. Fr. <i>quartier</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Batu, Bato</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Father. Perhaps from the Russ. <i>batuschca</i>, q.v. +In thieves’ slang, a prison governor or jailer. P. +ii. 430; F. 145; G. i. 61; J.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Batuschca, Batushka</span>. +<i>Russ.</i> Little father. A term of endearment or +familiar address, something like the Span. <i>tio</i>, uncle.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Beber</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> To drink.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Becoresh</span>. <i>Hebr.</i> +I.e. <i>Epikores</i> = Epicurus, selected by Jewish writers as a +type of insolent atheism.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bedeya</span>. <i>Arab.</i> An +open waistcoat. More correctly, <i>bad‘iyya</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Belad</span>. <i>Hebr.</i> In +the power of.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Beled</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Country. Also <i>balad</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bellota</span>. <i>Span.</i> +An acorn. The Portuguese <i>bolota</i>; Arab, +<i>balūt</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Ben</span>, plur. <span +class="smcap">Beni</span>. <i>Hebr.</i> and +<i>Arab.</i> Son.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bendito</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Blessed, praised.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Beng, Bengue, Bengui</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> The devil; also any demon, or evil +spirit. P. ii. 407; M. vii. 19. As to the meaning, +frog or toad, see G. i. 118.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Beraka</span>. <i>Hebr.</i> A +blessing.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Besti, Bestis</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> A seat, chair, or saddle. P. ii. 428; M. +vii. 20. Borrow, however, seems to use it as a slang form +of the following.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bestia</span>. <i>Span.</i> An +animal. “You brute!”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Birdoche</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Used by Borrow in ch. ix. for a stage-coach or <i>galera</i>, +q.v. It is probably connected with <i>bedo</i>, +<i>berdo</i>, a cart. Z. ii. * 17. Eng. Rom. +<i>vardo</i>. See P. ii. 80; A. 68; M. viii. 96.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Boca</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Mouth.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Boda, Bodas</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Marriage, a wedding.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bogamante, Bogavante</span>. +<i>Span.</i> The slang name for a large lobster; orig. the +stroke-oar of a galley; <i>bogar</i> = to row, <i>avante</i> = in +front.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bohémien</span>. +<i>Fr.</i> A gypsy.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bolota</span>. <i>Port.</i> +(<i>Span.</i> B<span class="smcap">ellota</span>.) An +acorn.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bolsa</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> (1) A purse. (2) The Exchange.</p> +<p><a name="page390"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 390</span><span +class="smcap">Bombardó</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +lion. Used also of the gulf usually called the Gulf of +Lyons, but in French La Golfe du Lion, or “Gulf of the +Lion,” from its stormy water. Lyons on the Rhone may +have given the English, but certainly not the French, name to the +bay. P. ii. 432.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bonanza</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Fair weather. See note, ii. 273.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bonito</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Pretty.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Borracho</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A drunkard. <i>Borracha</i> is a +wine-skin, or leathern bottle. Hence Shakespeare’s +<i>Borachio</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Borrico</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Dimin. of <i>Burro</i>, an ass.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bota</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +leather wine-bottle or bag; usually made of the skin of a pig for +storing purposes, of goatskin for travelling. A glass +bottle is called <i>frasco</i> or <i>botella</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Brasero</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Brazier; brass or copper pan to hold live coals.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bretima, Bretema, Bretoma</span>. +<i>Gal.</i> A low-lying mist or fog. When thick and +damp it is called—also in Galician—<i>mexona</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bribon, Bribonazo</span>. +<i>Span.</i> A vagrant, vagabond, or impostor. The +termination in <i>bribonazo</i> does not express action, as in +such words as <i>calmazo</i>, q.v., but augmentation.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Briboneria</span>. +<i>Span.</i> Knavery, rascality.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Broa</span>. <i>Port.</i> and +<i>Gal.</i> <span class="smcap">Barona</span>. +<i>Span.</i> and <i>Gal.</i> <span +class="smcap">Brona</span>. <i>Gal.</i> A bread made +of a mixture of maize (2 parts), rye (4), millet (1), and +panic-grass (1).</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Brotoboro</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +First. Grk. πρῶτος. +<i>Brotorbo</i>, J.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Brujo</span> or <span +class="smcap">Bruxo</span>. <i>Span.</i>, <i>Port.</i>, and +<i>Gal.</i> A sorcerer, or wizard.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Buckra</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +<i>Bikr</i>, a virgin; used (ii. 357) for the Blessed Virgin +Mary.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bueno</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Good. <i>Buenas noches</i>, “good night.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bufa</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +manger, crib. P. ii. 433.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Bul, Bulláti</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> The <i>anus</i>. P. ii. 422.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Burra</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Jackass; she-ass.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Busnó</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> A man who is not a gypsy, a Gentile. P. +ii. 434; Pp. 172; M. vii. 26.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">Ca</span>. <i>Span.</i> An +abbreviated form of <span class="smcap">Carajo</span>, +<i>q.v.</i></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cabalgadura</span>. +<i>Span.</i> A sumpter horse or mule; beast of burden.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Caballejo</span>, or <span +class="smcap">Caballuelo</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Pony.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Caballeria</span>. +<i>Span.</i> Is used either of a single horse, mule, or ass +used for riding, as the Fr. <i>monture</i>, or for a number of +such beasts together. The word <a name="page391"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 391</span>in the plural also signifies +chivalry or knighthood.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Caballero</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Lit. a cavalier, but constantly used either as a mode of polite +address, “Sir,” or in speaking of a gentleman, +whether mounted or on foot.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cabaña</span>. +<i>Span.</i> (1) A shepherd’s hut or cabin. (2) +A flock, or assemblage of flocks, of sheep, under the charge of a +<i>mayoral</i>, driven to and from the wild pasture lands of +Estremadura. See note, i. 146.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cacharro</span>. <i>Span.</i> +A coarse earthen pan or pot.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cachas</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Shears, scissors. Z. i. 244; P. ii. 99; <i>cachais</i>, R. +295.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cachimani</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +A wine-shop, or tavern. <i>Cachiman</i>, J. See P. +ii. 117; M. i. 19.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Caes</span>. <i>Port.</i> A +wharf.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cafila</span>, rather <span +class="smcap">Ḳāfilah</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +A caravan.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Calabozo</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Dungeon or underground cell. <i>Calabozero</i>, the keeper +thereof; turnkey.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Calash</span>. <i>Eng.</i> A +two-wheeled carriage with a hood; a buggy. Span. +<i>calesa</i>; Port. <i>caleça</i>; Fr. +<i>calèche</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Caldas</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Warm Baths. Used most frequently in +combination as a place name; e.g. Caldas de Reyes, called by +Borrow (i. 394) Caldas de los Reyes, in Galicia.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Calés</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> Plur. of <span +class="smcap">Caló</span>, <span +class="smcap">Caloró</span>. A gypsy; lit. a black +and dark man. See <span +class="smcap">Caló</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Calesero</span>. <i>Span.</i> +(1) The driver of a <i>calesa</i>. (2) The driver of any +carriage or cart.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Callar</span>. <i>Span.</i> To +be silent. <i>Calla boca</i>, “Hold your +tongue!”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Callardó</span>, <span +class="smcap">Gallardó</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +black man, mulatto. See <span +class="smcap">Caló</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Calle</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +street.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Callee</span>,<span class="smcap"> +Callí</span>. <i>Rom.</i> Fem. of <span +class="smcap">Caló</span>, <i>q.v.</i></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Callicaste</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +(1) Yesterday. (2) Tomorrow. So in English Rom. +<i>cóllico</i>, <i>káliko</i>. P. ii. 107; +LL. 7.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Calmazo</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +calm at sea. Lit. an “attack” or +“stroke” of calm, such being the force of the +termination <i>azo</i>; as <i>puñal</i>, a poignard; +<i>puñalazo</i>, the blow of a poignard.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Caló</span>, <span +class="smcap">Caloró</span>. <i>Rom.</i> One +of the <i>kalo rat</i>, or black blood; a gypsy. P. ii. +106; A. 44; M. vii. 71; G. i. 178.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Camarera</span>. <i>Span.</i> +A lady’s maid, chambermaid.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Campiña</span>. +<i>Span.</i> The open country, the fields. Dimin. of +<span class="smcap">Campo</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Campo</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> The country. In the mouths of +English-speaking Argentines it has become “the camp,” +conveying no idea whatever of the Anglo-Indian <a +name="page392"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +392</span>“camp,” or “marching” with +tents, or “camping out.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Campo Santo</span>. <i>Span.</i>, +<i>Port.</i>, and <i>Ital.</i> A churchyard, cemetery.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Canallis</span>. See <span +class="smcap">Jara Canallis</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Candory</span>, plur. <span +class="smcap">Candoré</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Christian. P. ii. 125; McR. 46.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Canónigo</span>. +<i>Span.</i> A canon or prebendary of a cathedral.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Capataz</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Not <i>capitaz</i>. A head man; +overseer; ganger; steward on a farm. From Lat. +<i>caput</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Capilla</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +chapel.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Capitular</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Belonging to the chapter. <i>Sala capitular</i>, +chapter-house.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Carajo</span>. <i>Span.</i> +“The great oath of Spain, which ought never to be written +or pronounced in full, practically forms the foundation of the +language of the lower orders; it is a most ancient remnant of the +phallic abjuration of the evil eye, the dreaded fascination which +still perplexes the minds of Orientals, and is not banished from +Spanish and Neapolitan superstitions. The word terminates +in <i>ajo</i>, on which stress is laid; the <i>j</i> is +pronounced with a most Arabic guttural aspiration. The word +<i>ajo</i> means also garlic, which is quite as often in Spanish +mouths, and is exactly what Hotspur liked—a +‘mouth-filling oath,’ energetic and Michael +Angelesque.”—Ford’s <i>Spain</i>, Introd. p. +35. For “the evil eye,” see; Z. i. 138.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Carals</span>. Catalan for <span +class="smcap">Carajo</span>, <i>q.v.</i></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Caramba</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +polite modification of the grosser <span +class="smcap">Carajo</span>, <i>q.v.</i></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Carbonero</span>. <i>Span.</i> +A charcoal-burner; also a collier.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Carcel</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +prison.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Carcelero</span>, <span +class="smcap">Carcelera</span>. <i>Span.</i> A male +or female jailer; or the latter may be merely the wife of a +jailer.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Carlino</span>, <span +class="smcap">Carlista</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +partisan of Don Carlos.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Carlo</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Heart. P. ii. 125. It also means +“throat,” the only meaning in English Rom. P. +ii. 96; A. 66; Pp. 299; SC. 91.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Carracho</span>. <i>Gal.</i> A +tick, or small parasite found on dogs and cattle. +<i>Carracha</i> is a somewhat similar pest of the human +body. The word, which is not Spanish, is used by Borrow as +an expletive, instead of the coarser <span +class="smcap">Carajo</span>, <i>q.v.</i></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Carrascal</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A plantation or grove of the following.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Carrasco</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> The <i>ilex</i>, or evergreen oak.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Carreta</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A long and narrow cart.</p> +<p><a name="page393"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 393</span><span +class="smcap">Carretera</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +high-road. Fr. <i>voie carrossable</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Carronade</span>. <i>O. +Eng.</i> A short cannon of large bore, usually carried on +board ship. The word has nothing to do with cannon, but is +derived from the Scotch town of Carron, in Stirlingshire, where +these pieces were first made in 1779. They were not used +after 1852, and the name is obsolete.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Carta</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A letter.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Casa</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> House.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Caspita</span>. <i>Span.</i> +“Wonderful!” Milder than <span +class="smcap">Caramba</span>, <i>q.v.</i></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Castellano</span>. +<i>Span.</i> A Castilian. <i>Hablar Castellano</i>, +to talk Spanish.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Castumba</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Castile.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cavalgadura</span>. +<i>Gal.</i> See <span class="smcap">Cabalgadura</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cavalheiro</span>. +<i>Port.</i> See <span class="smcap">Caballero</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Céad</span>. +<i>Irish</i>. A hundred.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cerrada</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Closed, concealed, dark.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cerro</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A hill, hillock.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chabí</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> A girl. See <span +class="smcap">Chabó</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chabó</span>, <span +class="smcap">Chabé</span>, <span +class="smcap">Chaboró</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +boy, youth, fellow. P. ii. 181; A. 51; Pp. 528; M. vii. 30; +McR. 100. Possibly the origin of the English slang, +“chap.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chachipé</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> The truth. P. i. 138; ii. 178; A. 29; Pp. +523; M. vii. 27.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chai</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Irreg. plur. of <span class="smcap">Chabó</span>, +<i>q.v.</i> Chaps; used commonly for gypsies.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chal</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +lad, boy, fellow; possibly the same as chiel, childe. +<i>Rómano-chal</i>, a gypsy. McR. 98.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chali del Bahar</span>. +<i>Arab.</i> <i>Bahar</i> is “the sea” in +Arabic; <i>shát</i> is “the shore.” +<i>Chali</i> is possibly a misprint for this.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chalan</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +jockey or horse-dealer.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chardí</span>, <span +class="smcap">Cháti</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +fair. I cannot find this word except in Borrow (Z. ii. * +36), though J. gives <i>chandí</i>. Borrow derives +it from Hind, <i>chhetr</i> = field. If so it is perhaps +connected with <i>char</i>, <i>chor</i> = grass. P. ii. +198; Pp. 529; M. vii. 29. Can it be the Persian +<i>chatrí</i>—canopy, tent?</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Charipé</span>, <span +class="smcap">Cheripen</span>. <i>Rom.</i> Bed, or +bedstead. Hind. <i>charpoy</i> = that which has four feet +or legs. Borrow (Z. ii.* 37) wrongly suggests the Grk. +κρεββάτι, though +giving, as elsewhere (LL. 100), the right derivation. P. +ii. 203; M. vii. 32.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chegar</span>. <i>Port.</i> To +arrive, land.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chenourain</span>. Synagogues. +From <i>shanūra</i>, an Algerian or low Arabic word.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chi, Chichí</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> Nothing. P. ii. 176; M. vii. 31.</p> +<p><a name="page394"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 394</span><span +class="smcap">Chibado</span>. <i>Rom.</i> Put +into. From <i>chibar</i>, a word used in many senses. +P. ii. 184.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chica</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Little girl. Properly the fem. of the adj. <i>chico</i>, +which is also used commonly for a boy, especially as a mode of +address, or to call attention, <i>hé</i>, +<i>chico</i>!</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chicotito</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Dimin. of <i>chico</i>. A little fellow, dwarf.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chim</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Kingdom, country. P. ii. 295; M. viii. 82; Z. ii. * 38; and +J.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chindomar</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +A butcher. From <i>chinar</i> = to cut. P. ii. 208; +Pp. 538; M. vii. 33.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chinel</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +man of official position or rank. Especially an +<i>alguacil</i>. Russ. <i>chin</i>, rank. P. ii. +204.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chinobaró</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> A head official. Compounded of <span +class="smcap">Chin</span> and <span class="smcap">Baro</span>, +<i>q.v.</i></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chipe</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Tongue, speech. P. ii. 216; M. vii. 31; SC. 64.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chiria</span>. Borrow gives this as +Sanscrit for “bird,” but I cannot find his +authority. The Rom. word is <i>cziriklo</i>, +<i>chiriclo</i>. See P. ii. 199.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chor</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +<i>Subs.</i> a thief; <i>verb</i>, to steal. P. ii. 200; A. +46; Pp. 545–6; M. vii. 36.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Choza</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +hut or small cottage. According to Dozy and Engelmann it is +the Arab. <i>khas</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chulí</span>, plur. <span +class="smcap">Chulé</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +dollar. Span. <i>peso fuerte</i>. Borrow uses the +word in his gypsy St. Luke, xv. 8, etc. P. ii. 205, has +“<i>Chuli</i> = <i>Groschen</i>,” and suggests a +connexion with <i>tchulo</i> = thick. It is tempting to +compare the English slang “a thick ’un” = a +sovereign.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chulí</span>, <span +class="smcap">Churí</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +knife. Hind. <i>churi</i>. P. ii. 210; Pp. 550; M. +vii. 39. The form with L is only found in Spanish. +Pott suggests that it is a corruption of <i>cuchillo</i>. +In Z. ii. 148 it is given as <i>Germanía</i>, or +thieves’ slang, and is probably their alteration of the +correct <i>churí</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Chuquel</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +dog. P. ii. 213; A. 64; Pp. 553; M. vii. 51; Z. ii. * +132.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cierra</span>! <i>Span.</i> +“Close!” The war-cry of the Castilian chivalry; +more fully, <i>Santiago</i>! <i>y cierra España</i>!</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cierto</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Sure, certain.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Ciervo</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +stag.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cocal</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +bone. P. ii. 92; A. 52; Pp. 289; M. vii. 85.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Coisa</span>, <span +class="smcap">Cousa</span>. <i>Port.</i> A thing.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Colegio</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +college.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Comer</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> To eat.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Comitiva</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Suite, following, company.</p> +<p><a name="page395"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 395</span><span +class="smcap">Commercio</span>. <i>Port.</i> +Commerce. <i>Span. comercio</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Companheiro</span>. +<i>Port.</i> Companion, comrade.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Comprar</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> To buy.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Comunero</span>. <i>Span.</i> +A member or partisan of the Communities of Castile. See +Burke’s <i>Hist. of Spain</i>, ii. 316.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Con</span>. <i>Span.</i> +With.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Conciudadano</span>. +<i>Span.</i> A fellow-citizen.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Conde</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A count, or earl. Lat. +<i>comes</i>. A title at one time greater than that of duke +in Spain. See Burke’s <i>Hist. of Spain</i>, i. +148.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Condenado</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Condemned, damned.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Conquistar</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> To conquer.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Constitucion</span>. +<i>Span.</i> Constitution; the constitution of 1812.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Contrabandista</span>. <i>Span</i> +and <i>Port.</i> A smuggler.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Conversacion</span>. +<i>Span.</i> Conversation. As an interjection, +“Folly! rubbish!”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Copita</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +wine-glass, or small drinking-cup; dimin. of <i>copa</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Copla</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A couplet, or a few lines of poetry. The +original Spanish of the lines quoted ii. 62 is as +follows—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Un manco escribió una carta;<br /> +Un siego <a name="citation395"></a><a href="#footnote395" +class="citation">[395]</a> la está mirando;<br /> +Un mudo la está leyendo;<br /> +Y un sordo la está escuchando.”</p> +<p style="text-align: right">(Rodriguez Marin, <i>Cantos +Populares Españoles</i>, tom. iv. p. 364, No. 7434.)</p> +</blockquote> +<p><span class="smcap">Corahai</span> or <span +class="smcap">Corajai</span>. <i>Rom.</i> The Moors +of Northern Africa. P. ii. 127; A. 27; Pp. 320; M. vii. +64.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Corahanó</span>, fem. <span +class="smcap">Corahaní</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +Moor. See <span class="smcap">Corahai</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Corchete</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A catchpoll. Lit. a clasp; +<i>corchetes</i> are “hooks and eyes.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Corço</span>. +<i>Gal.</i> A stag, or deer.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cordoves</span>. +<i>Span.</i> Of or belonging to Cordova.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Corregidor</span>. +<i>Span.</i> A municipal magistrate. Orig. a +<i>co-regidor</i>, or joint administrator of the law; not, as +Midshipman Easy and the Boatswain decided, a <i>corrector</i>, +though the word also has that signification in Spanish. As +regards the magistrate, the second <i>r</i> is superfluous and +etymologically deceptive.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Corrida</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A racecourse; bull-fight.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cortamanga</span>. The word is not +given in any dictionary that I have consulted. Borrow +evidently alludes to a vulgar and obscene gesture, usually called +<i>un corte de mangas</i>. It is made by bringing down the +right hand on the left forearm, and raising the left forearm, <a +name="page396"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 396</span>with the +middle finger of the left hand raised and the other fingers +bent. It is not under <i>corte</i> or <i>manga</i> either +in Covarrubia or the 1730 edit. of the <i>Dic. Acad. Esp.</i>, or +more recent ones, probably on account of its indecent +signification. I have never seen it written. The +finger part of the business is of course as old as the Romans, +and survives still in Italy.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Corte</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> The king’s court; more particularly the +city where the court resides—thus the capital. +Applied colloquially and in commercial correspondence to Madrid, +Lisbon, Rio Janeiro, etc.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cortejo</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A lover. Orig. courtesy or homage. +<i>Cortejar</i> = to do homage to.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cortes</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> The estates of the realm, parliament.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cortijo</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Farmhouse.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cosas</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Things. “<i>Cosas de España</i>,” +“<i>Cosas de Inglaterra</i>,” “<i>Cosas de los +Ingleses</i>.” Colloquially equivalent to our, +“How Spanish!” “Quite English!”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Crallis</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +King. The Slavonian <i>kral</i>. P. ii. 123; Pp. 296; +M. vii. 87.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Creer</span>. <i>Span.</i> To +believe. <i>Yo lo creo</i>, “I believe you, my +boy!” “You bet!”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cria</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A brood.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Criscote</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +book. See <span class="smcap">Gabicote</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cristiano</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Christian. Used in Spain for the Spanish language.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cristino</span>. <i>Span.</i> +A partisan of Queen Christina.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cruz</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A cross; also the withers of a horse or +mule.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cruzado</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A coin worth about six shillings. See +Burke’s <i>Hist. of Spain</i>, ii. 286.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cuadrilla</span>. <i>Span.</i> +A band.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cuarto</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +copper coin of the value of four maravedis, or about one English +farthing. Lit. the fourth part of anything.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cuenta</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Bill, reckoning.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cuesta</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +hill, or mount.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cuidado</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Care, anxiety. The Andalusians and +Gitanos say <i>cuidao</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cul</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Every, all.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cura</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Parish priest. Fr. <i>curé</i>; +<i>not</i> a “curate.” The writer usually known +as <i>El Cura de Fruime</i> (i. 401) was D. Diego Antonio +Zernadas de Castro, born at Santiago in 1698. He wrote +various works in verse and prose, a complete edition of which, in +seven volumes, was published by Ibarra (Madrid, 1778–81), +and was followed by another, in three volumes, <a +name="page397"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 397</span>in +1783–9–90. A biography of the author, by D. +Fernando Fulgosio, appeared in the <i>Revista de +España</i>, <i>tomos</i> 27, 28 (1872). There was +another <i>Cura de Fruime</i>, D. Antonio Francisco de Castro, +who was also a poet, and who died in 1836.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Curelar</span>. <i>Rom.</i> To +do business. P. ii. 111; Pp. 281; M. vii. 88.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cureló</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> Trouble, pain. P. ii. 115. See +<span class="smcap">Curelar</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Curioso</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Inquiring, curious.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">Dadas</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Given. From <i>dar</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dai</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Mother. P. ii. 309; Pp. 194; M. vii. 40.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Daoud</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Light. Arab. <i>ḍau</i>. <i>Daoud Scharr</i> = +<i>ḍau ash-sharr</i>, light of mischief.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dar</span>. <i>Arab.</i> A +house; often found in composition as <i>Dar-sinah</i>, <i>Dar +ṣinā</i>‘<i>ah</i> (ii. 367), the house of the +arts, or handicrafts; <i>Dar-dwag</i>, <i>Dar dabbagh</i> (ii. +371), the house of the bark, or tannery.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dehesa</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Pasture; applied more particularly to large open tracts of +country where the cattle can roam at large.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Demonio</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Demon, devil.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Denho</span>. <i>Gal.</i> The +devil; used familiarly, “the deuce.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Desembarcar</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> To disembark.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Desesperado</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Desperate; a desperado.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Deshonesto</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Not “dishonest,” but +“immodest, lascivious.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Despacho</span>. <i>Span.</i> +An office; a <i>depôt</i>. Used also of certain +shops, such as the bakers, tobacco-sellers, and others.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Despoblado</span>. +<i>Span.</i> Desert, or waste lands. Lit. +depopulated; the true history is seen in the etymology. The +word is applied to uncultivated desert, or uninhabited parts of +the country, grazed for the most part by half wild sheep or +cattle.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Despues</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Afterwards. <i>Hasta despues</i>, “Au +revoir.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Detras</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Behind. See <span class="smcap">Tirar</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Diestro</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Skilful, dexterous; as a substantive, a performer at a +bull-feast, also a fencer.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dios</span>. <i>Span.</i> +God.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Disparate</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A blunder, or extravagance. As an +interjection, “Stuff and nonsense!”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Djmah</span>. The name of a tower in +Tangier. Apparently the Arab. <i>Jami</i>’ = +mosque.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Doiro</span>. <i>Port.</i> Of +gold, <i>de oiro</i> or <i>ouro</i>.</p> +<p><a name="page398"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 398</span><span +class="smcap">Don</span>, <span +class="smcap">Doña</span>. <i>Span.</i> <span +class="smcap">Dom</span>, <span class="smcap">Dona</span>. +<i>Port.</i> Lord; lady.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Donostian</span>. +<i>Basque</i>. San Sebastian.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dorso</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> The back.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dosta</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Enough! Span. <i>basta</i>! P. ii. 308; M. vii. +45.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Doubloon</span>. <i>Eng.</i> A +gold coin. <i>Span. doblon</i>. See Burke’s +<i>Hist. of Spain</i>, ii. 284.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Drao</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Poison. P. ii. 316; Pp. 215; M. vii. 45.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dromális</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> Carriers, muleteers, men of the road. P. +ii. 319. See <span class="smcap">Drun</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Drun</span>, <span +class="smcap">Drom</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A road. +Grk. δρόμος. P. ii. 318; +Pp. 215; M. vii. 46.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Drungruje</span>, better <span +class="smcap">Drongrugi</span> or <span +class="smcap">Drunji</span>. <i>Rom.</i> The +king’s highway; also a bridle-path. See <span +class="smcap">Drun</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Duende</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A ghost, or hobgoblin. In +<i>Germanía</i>, or thieves’ slang = the watch, +patrol.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Duffel</span>. <i>O. Eng.</i> +A coarse woollen cloth, said to have been first made at Duffel, +near Amsterdam.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Durotunó</span>. A +shepherd. Probably connected with <i>dur</i> = far, P. ii. +317; M. vii. 48. It is worth noticing that we find +<i>Gorotuné</i> = a native of Estremadura, which looks +like a pun, P. i. 54, so too J., who has also +<i>oroturné</i> = a mountaineer, which suits the idea.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dwag</span>. See <span +class="smcap">Dar</span>.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>E, Es. <i>Rom.</i> Genitive, sing. and plur., of +the article <i>O</i>.</p> +<p>E. <i>Port.</i> And.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Eidri</span>. See <span +class="smcap">Shillam</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Ellegren</span>. Stated by Borrow to +be a Scand. word, meaning “elfin plant,” but the +dictionaries do not give it. <i>Elle</i>, however, in +composition = fairy, in Danish; and <i>gren</i> = bough, in +Danish, Norse, and Swedish.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Embéo</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> A book. P. ii. 62.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Embustero</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Impostor, cheat, schemer; from <i>embuste</i>, a deceit, false or +fraudulent scheme, snare.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Encina</span>. <i>Span.</i> An +oak.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Endemoniado</span>. +<i>Span.</i> Possessed by the devil.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Enganchar</span>. <i>Span.</i> +To enlist as a soldier. Prim. to hook; <i>gancho</i>, a +hook.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Ensayo</span>. <i>Span.</i> An +essay, attempt.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Entender</span>. <i>Span.</i> +To understand.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Entero</span>. <i>Span.</i> An +<i>entire</i> horse, or stallion. As an adjective, entire, +perfect, complete.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Errate</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +respectful appellation of the gypsy race, used by them of their +own race. From Rom. <i>rat</i>, blood; the <a +name="page399"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 399</span>people of +the same blood; our blood relations. P. ii. 272; Pp. 457; +M. viii. 56.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Erray</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Gentleman. More commonly, <i>rai</i>; in Eng. Rom., +<i>rye</i>. P. ii. 264; Pp. 453; M. viii. 54.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Erreguiña</span>. +<i>Basque.</i> Queen. Borrow is mistaken in +connecting this word with Sanscrit. It is simply the Lat. +<i>regina</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Erudito</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Learned.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Escapado</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Escaped, a runaway.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Esclivitud</span>. +<i>Span.</i> Slavery.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Escocés</span>. +<i>Span.</i> Scotch.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Escondido</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> <i>Adj.</i> hidden.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Escopeta</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A gun.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Escribano</span>. <i>Span.</i> +A notary, or his clerk. Lit. a writer.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Escuchar</span>. <i>Span.</i> +To listen. <i>Escuchad</i>! “Listen!”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Escuela</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +school.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Eso</span>. <i>Span.</i> +That. <i>Que es eso</i>? “What’s +that?”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">España</span>. +<i>Span.</i> Spain. See i. 341.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Español</span>. Spanish.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Espinal</span>, <span +class="smcap">Espinar</span>. <i>Span.</i> A thorny +thicket; place of thorns.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Espingarda</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A musket.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Espinheiro</span>. +<i>Port.</i> A thorn-tree.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Estadea</span>. <i>Port.</i> +<span class="smcap">Estadaiña</span>. +<i>Gal.</i> Dimin. <span +class="smcap">Estadinha</span>. (1) A skeleton, or +death’s-head; a nocturnal procession of the spirits of the +dead. (2) A witches’ “sabbath;” for which +last the Galician <i>compaña</i> is also used.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Estalagem</span>. <i>Port.</i> +An inn.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Estar</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> To be.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Estaripel</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +A prison. P. ii. 246; Pp. 146. SC. 141.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Estrangero</span>. +<i>Span.</i> Strange, foreign.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Estremou</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +<span class="smcap">Estremeño</span>. +<i>Span.</i> An inhabitant of the province of +Estremadura.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Euscarra</span>. Basque. Used +by Borrow (ch. xxxvii.) for the Basque name of their own tongue; +more commonly, <i>Escualdun</i>, <i>Escualdunac</i>; a word in +any case of very uncertain origin. See Burke’s +<i>Hist. of Spain</i>, vol. i. App. I., <span class="smcap">The +Basques</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Exemplo</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Example, pattern. <i>Por exemplo</i>, +for instance.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Extenderse</span>. +<i>Span.</i> To extend, stretch.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">Fabrica</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Manufactory.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Faccioso</span>. <i>Span.</i> +As an adjective, factious; more often used by Borrow as a +substantive, with the special signification, in the <a +name="page400"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 400</span>years +1830–1840, of a disaffected or factious person; a rebel; a +Carlist.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Fáilte</span>. +<i>Irish</i>. Welcomes.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Faja</span>, <span +class="smcap">Faxa</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A thick waist-band, usually of silk, often +red, and a characteristic portion of the dress of a great +majority of Spaniards. The Indian <i>kamarband</i>. +From the Lat. <i>fascia</i>, a girth, or band.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Fango</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Mire, mud.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Farol</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Strictly speaking, a lantern; used by Borrow +for <span class="smcap">Faro</span>, a lighthouse. They +are, of course, equally the ancient Grk. +φάρος.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Fato</span>. <i>Port.</i> A +herd; a multitude. Span. <i>hato</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Felouk</span>, <span +class="smcap">Feloque</span>. <i>Eng.</i> A boat, +felucca. Arab. <i>faluka</i>, <i>falak</i> = ship.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Ferioul</span>. <i>Arab.</i> A +sort of shawl thrown over the shoulders. Arab. +<i>farwāl</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Fidalgo</span>. <i>Port.</i> A +gentleman. The Spanish hidalgo = <i>filius alicujus</i>, +the son of some one.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Filimicha</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +The gallows. Found in Borrow, and J.; Pott, ii. 394, simply +quotes it from the former.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Fino</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Fine, excellent, sharp.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Fonda</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Hotel. According to Diez, from Latin <i>funda</i>, a sling, +or a purse, which has also given the French <i>bourse</i> and +Spanish <i>bolsa</i>, an assembly of paying persons. See +<span class="smcap">Posada</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Fora</span>. <i>Port.</i> and +<i>Gal.</i> Outside, without.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Foro</span>, <span +class="smcap">Foros</span>. <i>Rom.</i> City, or +town. P. ii. 393; Pp. 234; M. vii. 53.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Forte</span>. <i>Port.</i> +Strong.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Fregona</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +scullery maid.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Friolera</span>. <i>Span.</i> +A trifle. Lat. <i>futilitas</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Fuente</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +fount, spring.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Fueron</span>. <i>Span.</i> +They were. From <i>ser</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Fueros</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Local privileges.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Funcion</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +solemnity; festival; public assemblage of people to do or see +some important act. In military language, an action; then +colloquially, “a row.” The barbarous English +adaptation, <i>function</i>, is convenient, and is rapidly +gaining ground.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">Gabardine</span>. <i>O. +Eng.</i> A long coat, or cloak, usually applied to the +distinctive dress worn by the Jews under compulsion. Said +to be from the Spanish and Old French <i>gaban</i>, a great +coarse cloak with a hood, a word itself supposed to be connected +with <i>capa</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Gabicote</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Book. Borrow seems the only authority for this word. +J. has <i>gascote</i>. P. ii. 145.</p> +<p><a name="page401"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 401</span><span +class="smcap">Gabiné</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +Frenchman. P. i. 54, ii. 145.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Gachapla</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +couplet, in poetry. Span. <i>copla</i>. P. ii. +41.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Gachó</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> Any one who is not a gypsy; the same as Rom. +<i>busnó</i>. P. ii. 129; Pp. 235; M. vii. 53; McR. +93.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Galera</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +long cart without springs; the sides are lined with matting, +while beneath hangs a loose open net, as under the +<i>calesinas</i> of Naples, in which lies and barks a horrid dog, +who keeps a cerberus watch over iron pots and sieves, and +suchlike gypsy utensils, and who is never to be +conciliated.—Ford’s <i>Spain</i>, Introd. p. 37.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Gallego</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Galician; usually Anglicized by Borrow as +Gallegan. The Roman <i>Gallaeci</i> or <i>Callaeci</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Gallineria</span>. +<i>Span.</i> A hen-coop; a place for keeping +<i>gallinas</i>, or chickens.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Galoot</span> (<i>Galūth</i>). +<i>Hebr.</i> Bondage, captivity. “The galoot of +sin.” In the slang of the United States the word +means “a simpleton.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Garbanzos</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Chick-pease (<i>Cicer arietinum</i>). The invariable +vegetable in every <i>olla</i> and <i>puchero</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Garlochin</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Heart. See <span class="smcap">Carlo</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Garnata</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Granada. See <span class="smcap">Melegrana</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Garrote</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> The death penalty by strangulation, in which +an iron collar fixed to a post is tightened by a screw and +receives the neck of the culprit, which is broken by a sharp turn +given by the executioner. <i>Garrote</i> also means a +cudgel, or heavy walking-stick; and the tourniquet used by +surgeons. It is a word of strange and uncertain etymology, +and is said to be connected with Span. <i>garra</i>, a claw, Fr. +<i>jarret</i>, a thigh, and other apparently incongruous +words.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Gazpacho</span>. A dish in the +nature of a vegetable salad very popular in Spain, made of bread, +onions, potatoes, tomatoes, garlic, <i>garbanzos</i> or +chick-peas, with oil and seasoning of various kinds. The +etymology is uncertain.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Gefatura</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Office of the following.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Gefe</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Chief. <i>Gefe politico</i> = <i>corregidor</i>, +<i>q.v.</i></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Gelaba</span>. <i>Arab.</i> A +long cloak. Arab. <i>jilbāb</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Genio</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Genius; spirit.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Genoui</span>, dimin. <span +class="smcap">Genouillos</span>. Moor. A Genoese, +Genoese children.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Gente</span>, <span +class="smcap">Jente</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> People.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Germanía</span>. +<i>Span.</i> According to the dictionaries, <a +name="page402"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 402</span>the dialect +or mode of speech used by gypsies, thieves, and ruffians, to +prevent their being understood, in which they give special +meanings to ordinary words (e.g. <i>aguila</i>, eagle = a clever +thief), or invent words of their own (e.g. <i>almifor</i> = +horse). No doubt <i>Germanía</i> contains gypsy +words, but it is no more identical with Romany than are the Fr. +<i>Argot</i> or the Eng. <i>Cant</i>. See Z. ii. 129.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Gibil</span>. <i>Arab.</i> A +hill.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Ginete</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +good horseman. <i>À la gineta</i>, in the Moorish +style (of riding). Diez, strangely enough, would derive +this Arab or Moorish word from the Grk. +μυμνήτης, a naked or +light-armed foot soldier. It is really derived from the +proper name Zeneta, a Berber tribe who furnished the finest +horsemen to the Spanish Moors (Cron. Alfonso X., fo. 6 d, an. +1263). In Catalan the word has become <i>janetz</i>. +Our English word “jennet” may be derived from the +same source.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Girar</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> To turn round.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Gitana</span>. <i>Thieves’ +slang</i>. Twelve ounces of bread. See i. 177.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Gitano</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +gypsy. A corrupted form of <i>Egiptiano</i>, an +Egyptian. R. 269; McR. 109. See <span +class="smcap">Zincalo</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Godo</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A Goth; Gothic.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Goh</span>. <i>Pers.</i> +Mountain. More correctly, <i>koh</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Gonfaloniera</span>. +<i>Ital.</i> Standard-bearer.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Grā</span>, <span +class="smcap">Gras</span>, <span class="smcap">Graste</span>, +<span class="smcap">Gry</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +horse. P. ii. 145; A. 33; Pp. 249; M. vii. 58.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Gracia</span>. <i>Span.</i> +<span class="smcap">Gratia</span>. <i>Lat.</i> +Grace.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Granja</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +grange, farm. <i>La Granja</i>, the royal palace at San +Ildefonso.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Greco</span>. <i>Ital.</i> +<span class="smcap">Griego</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Greek.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Guapo</span>, <span +class="smcap">Guapito</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Gay, neat, clever, elegant, gallant.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Guardacostas</span>. +<i>Span.</i> A revenue cutter.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Guardia</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +guard, watch.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Guerilla</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Lit. little war. Irregular warfare to which the Spaniards +have ever been so much addicted. The <i>guerrillero</i> is +the irregular soldier, or armed <i>paisano</i>, who wages this +little war.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Guerra</span>. <i>Span.</i> +War.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Guissan</span>. <i>Basque</i>. +According to. It is an adaptation of the Fr. <i>guise</i>, +Span. <i>guisa</i>. The regular Basque words are +<i>arabera</i>, <i>araura</i>. Aizquibel, Basque-Spanish +Dict., gives the form <i>gisara</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Gurséan</span>. +<i>Moor.</i> The giant aloe. Span. <i>pita</i>. +<i>Apud</i> Borrow, ii. 276.</p> +<p><a name="page403"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 403</span><span +class="smcap">Gusto</span>. <i>Span.</i> (1) Taste, +lit. or fig. (2) Fancy, caprice, wish.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">Haber</span>. <i>Span.</i> To +have. <i>Hay</i>, there are. <i>No hay mas</i>? +Are there no more?</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Habla</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Speech.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Hablar</span>. <i>Span.</i> To +speak. Lat. <i>fabulare</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Hacer</span>. <i>Span.</i> To +do, make. <i>El hará el gusto por V</i>, He will do +what you want.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Hada</span>, <span +class="smcap">Hade</span>. <i>Arab.</i> This.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Haik</span>. <i>Arab.</i> A +white cloth worn over the head by the Moors.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Haimas</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Tents. More correctly, <i>ḥaimat</i>, plur. +<i>ḥiyām</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Haji</span>. <i>Arab.</i>, +<i>Turk.</i>, and <i>Grk.</i> One who having made the +<i>haj</i>, or pilgrimage, to Mecca, is entitled to wear a green +turban and assume the title of <i>haji</i>. But the same +title, strange to say, is assumed by orthodox Christians who have +made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem; and <i>Haji Yanco</i> is quite as +common a title or mode of address in the Levant as <i>Haji +Ibrahím</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Halal</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Lawful.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Haloof</span>. <i>Berber</i>. +Hog’s flesh. More correctly, <i>ḥalluf</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Hamal</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Porter, carrier. More correctly, +<i>ḥammāl</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Hanutz</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Shop. More correctly, <i>ḥanūt</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Harām</span>. <i>Arab.</i> and +<i>Hebr.</i> Forbidden. Akin to this is +<i>harem</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Hasta</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Until. See <span class="smcap">Despues</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Hato</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +herd, a multitude. Port. <i>fato</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Hax Weib</span>, <span +class="smcap">Hax</span>. <i>Germ.</i> A witch. +A wrong form of <i>Hexe Weib</i> or <i>Hexe</i>, a witch, or +female wizard.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Hayim</span>. <i>Hebr.</i> +Living. More correctly, <i>hayyim</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Heller</span>. <i>Germ.</i> A +copper coin in use in Germany previous to 1848; in value about +one farthing.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Herencia</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Heritage, inheritance.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Herrador</span>. <i>Span.</i> +A blacksmith.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Hidalgo</span>. <i>Span.</i> +See <span class="smcap">Fidalgo</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Higuera</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +fig-tree.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Hijo</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +son. Lat. <i>filius</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Hinai</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Here.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Hok</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Deceit, falsehood, fraud. <i>Hokka</i>, to lie; +<i>hokkawar</i>, to cheat. <i>Hokkano</i>, in Eng. Rom., a +lie. P. ii. 160; A. 37; Pp. 317; M. vii. 63. +<i>Hokkano baro</i>, the great trick. See Z. i. 310; LL. +244; Lel. 352; Gr. 357.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Hombre</span>. <i>Span.</i> +<span class="smcap">Homme</span>. <i>Fr.</i> A +man</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Horca</span>. <i>Span.</i> The +gallows.</p> +<p><a name="page404"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 404</span><span +class="smcap">Horno</span>. <i>Span.</i> Oven.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Houris</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +The women of the Moslem Paradise. Plural of the Arab, +<i>ḥawrá</i> = black-eyed.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Hsheesh</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +I.e. <i>ḥashish</i>, a preparation of hemp.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Huáje</span>. +<i>Arab.</i> Things. <i>Huáje del +Mselmeen</i>, more correctly, <i>ḥawāij el +Muslimīn</i>, things of the Moslems.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Hueso</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +bone.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Hundunar</span>, <span +class="smcap">Jundunar</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +soldier. P. ii. 172; R. 294. J. gives <i>jundo</i>, +<i>jundonal</i>.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">Ichasoa</span>. <i>Basque</i>. +The sea. The verse quoted by Borrow (ii. 118) more +accurately runs thus—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Ichasoa urac handi.<br /> + (The iea—the water—large)<br /> +Eztu ondoric aguerri—<br /> + (There is not—any bottom—manifest)<br /> +Pasaco ninsaqueni andic<br /> + (To pass—I could be able—thence)<br /> +Maitea icustea gatic.”<br /> + (The beloved—the seeing, <i>i.e.</i> to +see—for).</p> +</blockquote> +<p><span class="smcap">Infamia</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Infamy.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Infante</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Prince.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Inglaterra</span>. +<i>Span.</i> England.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Ingles</span>. <i>Span.</i> +English. <i>Inglesito</i>! “My little +Englishman!”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Inquisicion</span>. +<i>Span.</i> The Inquisition.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Inshallah</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Please God!</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Instancia</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Instance, prosecution. See note, ii. +141.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">Jabador</span>. Apparently a +Hispanized form of the African Arabic <i>jabdali</i> = a +gold-embroidered waistcoat.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Jaca</span>, or <span +class="smcap">Haca</span>. <i>Span.</i> A pony, or +small riding horse.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Jara Canallis</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> The only authority I have succeeded in finding +for this word is Z. ii. * 61. +“<i>Jaracañales</i>, guards, officers of the +revenue.” It may possibly be derived from the +Bohemian gypsy <i>xáro</i>, Hungarian <i>háro</i> = +sabre, and the Span.<i> canalla</i>, but I have no reason to +suppose that the word <i>xáro</i> or <i>háro</i> +was known to the gypsies of Spain.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Jargon</span>. <i>Eng.</i> +Originally a Fr. word, meaning any unintelligible sound, as that +of birds, then applied to the strange speech of the <i>Gueux</i>; +and so to any unknown tongue. Borrow himself says of the +gypsies, “when wishing to praise the proficiency of any +individual in their tongue, they are in the habit of saying, +‘He understands the seven jargons’” (Z. ii. +125). Frampton Boswell is recorded (G. i. 374) to have +stated that Romany was not one of “the seven +languages,” “but,” adds Mr. <a +name="page405"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 405</span>Hinde +Groome, “what he meant thereby, goodness alone +knows.” The historian Mazaris (<span +class="smcap">a.d.</span> 1416) states that at that time the +Peloponnesus was inhabited by seven principal nations, one of +which was that of the Egyptians. These +“Egyptians” are held by M. Bataillard to have been +gypsies (<i>ib.</i> iii. 154), and I would suggest that we have +here the origin of “the seven jargons.” The +number seven seems to be in a special way connected with the +children of Roma. For other instances see Leland, +<i>English Gypsies</i>, p. 218; Gr. 171.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Jaun</span>, <span +class="smcap">Jauna</span>. <i>Basque</i>. Lord, the +lord.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Jaungvicoa</span>. +<i>Basque</i>. The Lord God. <i>Jaun</i> = man, sir, +lord; <i>Gincoa</i> or <i>Jincoa</i> = God.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Jehinnim</span>. <i>Arab.</i> and +<i>Hebr.</i> Hell.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Jennut</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Paradise. Usually written, <i>jannat</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Jente</span>. <i>Span.</i> See +<span class="smcap">Gente</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Jin</span>. <i>Arab.</i> In +classic English, <i>genie</i> (Arabic and Persian <i>jinn</i>), a +class of spirits lower than the angels.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Johár</span>. +<i>Arab.</i> A pearl.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Jojabar</span>, <span +class="smcap">Jonjabar</span>. <i>Rom.</i> To +deceive. From <i>jojána</i>, deceit. See <span +class="smcap">Hok</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Jorge</span>, dimin. <span +class="smcap">Jorgito</span>. <i>Span.</i> +George.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Jorobado</span>. <i>Span.</i> +A hunchback. The verb <i>jorobar</i> means “to +worry.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Juez</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +judge.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Jumal</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Friday. More correctly, <i>jum</i>‘<i>a</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Junta</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> An assembly, meeting, council, governing +body.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Juntunó</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> A listener, spy, sneak. From +<i>junar</i>, <i>junelar</i>, to listen. P. ii. 221; Pp. +497; M. viii. 75.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Justicia</span>. <i>Span.</i> +A legal tribunal, or the magistrate or magistrates who constitute +it. <i>Absol</i>, justice.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">Kafir</span>. <i>Arab.</i> Not +a Moslem.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Kandrisa</span>. According to +Borrow, Turkish trousers. Possibly the same as the African +Arabic <i>ḳan dūra</i> = long shirt, <i>toga +talaris</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Kapul Udbagh</span>. According to +Borrow = “There is no God but one.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Kauk</span>. <i>Hebr.</i> The +furred cap of Jerusalem, according to Borrow. We may +perhaps compare <i>ḳūḳa</i>, stated by Redhouse +in his <i>Turkish Diet</i>, to be a peculiar plumed head-dress +worn by field-officers of the Janissaries.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Kawar</span>. <i>Arab.</i> An +uncommon word, meaning, no doubt, a cemetery, being a corrupt +form of <i>ḳabr</i>, a tomb.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Kebir</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Great.</p> +<p><a name="page406"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 406</span><span +class="smcap">Ker</span>, <span class="smcap">Quer</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> A house. P. ii. 153; Pp. 279; M. vii. 79; +G. i. 178.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Kermous del Inde</span>. +<i>Arab.</i> A fruit; the prickly pear.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Kistur</span>, <span +class="smcap">Kester</span>. <i>Rom.</i> To +ride. P. ii. 122; SC. refer to <i>uklistó</i>, Pp. +560; A. 14; M. viii. 89. Borrow derives it from the +Wallachian <i>keleri</i>. Perhaps from the Grk. +κέλης.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Kjæmpe</span>. +<i>Scand.</i> A champion. Cf. “Kempion the +kingis son” in the ballad that bears his name.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Knaw</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Now. P. ii. 124; Pp. 130; M. vii. 5.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Kosko</span>, <span +class="smcap">Kooshto</span>. <i>Rom.</i> Good. +P. ii. 157. This is an Eng. Rom. word. Continental +gypsies use <i>latchó</i>, <i>mishtó</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Kyrie</span>. Grk. +Κύριε, sir, my lord.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">Labrador</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Cultivator, rustic, peasant. <i>Labrar</i>, to till the +ground.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Lácha</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> Maidenhead, virginity. Z. ii. 7; P. ii. +331; Pp. 325; M. viii. 4.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Lachipé</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> Silk. I cannot explain this word, unless +it is connected with the following.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Lachó</span>, fem. <span +class="smcap">Lachí</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Good. P. ii. 329; A. 49; Pp. 328; M. viii. 4.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Ladrões</span>. +<i>Port.</i> Plur. of <i>ladrão</i>, a thief. +Lat. <i>latro</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Laloré</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> The Portuguese. <span +class="smcap">Laloró</span>, the red land. Eng. Rom. +<i>Lotto</i> (cf. <i>Jackanapes</i>, p. 28). P. i. 54, ii. +338; Pp. 328, 339; M. viii. 8.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Lapurrac</span>. +<i>Basque</i>. The thieves.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Largo</span>. <i>Port.</i> A +square, or public place in a town.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Lectura</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Reading.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Len</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +river. <i>Len baro</i>, the great river; <i>Wady al +Kebir</i>, the Guadalquivir. P. ii. 336; Pp. 333; M. viii. +6.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Levantarse</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> To raise one’s self, rise.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Le</span>. <i>Span.</i> To +him.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Li</span>, <span +class="smcap">Lil</span>. <i>Rom.</i> Paper; a +letter, passport, book. P. ii. 329, 339; A. 48; Pp. 334; M. +viii. 7.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Lib</span>. <i>Hebr.</i> +Heart. More correctly, <i>leb</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Liceo</span>. <i>Span.</i> +School, college.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Lilipendi</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +A simpleton. Akin to <span +class="smcap">Liló</span>, <i>q.v.</i></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Liló</span>, fem. <span +class="smcap">Lilí</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Foolish, mad. P. ii. 340.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Limosna</span>, dimin. <span +class="smcap">Limosnita</span>. <i>Span.</i> Alms, +charity.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Lindo</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Beautiful, pretty.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Liri</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Law. P. ii. 340.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Llavero</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Turnkey.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Loco</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Mad.</p> +<p><a name="page407"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 407</span><span +class="smcap">Lombo</span>. <i>Port.</i> Loin.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Londoné</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> An Englishman; lit. a Londoner. So B., +but it is probably plural. P. i. 54.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Longanizero</span>. +<i>Span.</i> Sausage-maker.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Lontra</span>. <i>Port.</i> +Otter. Span. <i>nutria</i>. “L” for +“N” is characteristic.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Loor</span>. <i>Old Span.</i> +Praise.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Lume</span>. <i>Port.</i> +Light.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Lumia</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +harlot. P. ii. 334; Pp. 342; M. viii. 9; G. i. 178.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">Ma</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Not.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Macho</span>, <span +class="smcap">Macha</span>. <i>Span.</i> A mule, male +or female. Considering that, even in Spanish, <i>macho</i> +did, and does, signify a male animal of any kind—being an +abbreviation of the Latin <i>masculus</i>—<i>macha</i>, a +she-mule, is rather a strange word!</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Madrilati</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Madrid. Also <i>Adalí</i>, J. In +thieves’ slang also <i>Gao</i> (= <i>gav</i>, a town), Z. +ii. * 54. But H. gives <i>gao</i> = <i>piojo</i> (a +louse).</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Maha</span>. <i>Sanscr.</i> +Great. Persian <i>mih</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mahasni</span>, plur. <span +class="smcap">Makhasniah</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Soldiers. More correctly, men of the garrison; +defenders.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mai</span>. <i>Port.</i> +Mother.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mailla</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +she-ass. P. ii. 454. Apparently only found in Eng. +Romany.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Majaró</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> Holy. P. ii. 462.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Majo</span>, <span +class="smcap">Maja</span>. Dandy; fancy man or girl. +<i>Majo</i>, scarcely to be rendered in any foreign language, is +a word of more general signification than <i>manolo</i>, +q.v. The one is a dandy, or smart fellow, all over Spain; +the other is used only of a certain class in Madrid.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Majoon</span>. I cannot find this +word, but it is apparently the name of some intoxicating +substance, and is probably connected with the Arabic +<i>majnūn</i> = possessed by a <i>jinn</i>, mad.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Makhiah</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Brandy made of figs. More correctly, +<i>ma’iyya</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Malo</span>. <i>Span.</i> Bad, +wicked.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Malvado</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Malicious, evil disposed.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Man</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Me. P. i. 229; Pp. 66; M. xi. 22.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Manolo</span>. <i>Span.</i> +<i>Manolo</i> is a somewhat difficult word to translate. It +is applied to the flash or fancy man and his <i>manola</i> in +Madrid only; a class fond of pleasure, of fine clothes, of +bull-fights, and of sunshine, with a code of honour of their own; +men <a name="page408"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 408</span>and +women rather picturesque than exemplary, and eminently racy of +the soil.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Manró</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> Bread or corn. Estremadura is thus called +<i>Chim del Manró</i>, “The Land of +Corn.” P. ii. 440; Pp. 350; M. viii. 12. Given +as <i>marron</i>, G. i. 177.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Manta</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A woollen blanket. <i>Á manta de +Dios</i> = copiously. The word has nothing to do with the +national <i>cloak</i> of Spain, which is <i>la capa</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mantilla</span>. <i>Span.</i> +The characteristic headdress of Spanish ladies, of black silk or +lace, drawn over the back of the head and shoulders. Dimin. +of <i>manta</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mar</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Sea.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Maravedí</span>. +<i>Span.</i> A coin of various weights and values. +See Burke’s <i>History of Spain</i>, ii. 282.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Marequita</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Dimin. of Maria.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mariposa</span>. <i>Span.</i> +A butterfly; a night light.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mas</span>. <i>Span.</i> +More.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Matador</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> (1) A slayer, murderer. (2) The man who +kills the bull. See note, i. 170.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mato</span>. <i>Port.</i> A +forest; or more exactly, a wild country, full of bushes and +thickets.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Maughrabie</span>. +<i>Arab.</i> A Borrovian adaptation of the Arabic <i>Al +Maghrib</i>, the west, signifying Mauretania, or North-Western +Africa.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mayim</span>. <i>Hebr.</i> +Waters.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mayor</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Greater.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mayordomo</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> House steward, or major-domo.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mearrah</span>. <i>Hebr.</i> and +<i>Arab.</i> Cemetery. Lit. a cave. Hebr. +<i>m</i>‘<i>arah</i>, Arab. <i>maghārah.</i></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Meclis</span>, <span +class="smcap">Meklis</span>. <i>Eng. Rom.</i> Leave +off! have done! “‘<i>Meklis</i>,’ said +Mrs. Chikno, ‘pray drop all that, +sister’” (<i>The Romany Rye</i>, ch. v.). +P. ii. 112, 434; Pp. 369; M. viii. 19.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Medico</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A physician.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Meforshim</span>. <i>Hebr.</i> +The commentators. More correctly, +<i>m</i>’<i>fár</i>’<i>shim</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Meiga</span>. <i>Port.</i> and +<i>Gal.</i> A female sharper, fortune-teller, or +sorceress. The adjective <i>meigo</i>, in Spanish +<i>mego</i>, has the signification of gentle, kind, mild.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Melegrana</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Granada. From the Ital. <i>melagrana</i>, a pomegranate; +Span. <i>granada</i>. See note, 375.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mendi</span>. <i>Basque</i>. A +mountain. See note to Ingles Mendi, ii. 314.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mercado</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A market, or market-place.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Merced</span>. <i>Span.</i> +(1) Favour, grace, mercy. (2) A day labourer’s pay, +or wages. (3) In combination, <a name="page409"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 409</span><i>vuestra merced</i>, your worship, +your honour, etc.; written V. or Vd. and pronounced +<i>usted</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mesuna</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +wayside inn, or <i>posada</i>, q.v. P. ii. 43, 463.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mezquita</span>. <i>Span.</i> +A mosque.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Míla</span>. +<i>Irish</i>. A thousand.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Milagro</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +miracle.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Min</span>. <i>Rom.</i> My, +mine. P. i. 237; Pp. 69; M. xi. 30.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Min</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +From.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mirar</span>. <i>Span.</i> To +look.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Miseria</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Misery, wretchedness; also niggardliness, +stinginess.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Moderado</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Moderate. The name assumed by the more +royalist members of the <i>Cristino</i> party. See i. +180.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Modo</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> (1) Measure; (2) courtesy, urbanity. +<i>V. no tiene modo</i>, “You’ve got no +manners.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Moidore</span>. <i>O. Eng.</i> +Portuguese <i>moeda d’ouro</i> = golden money, was a gold +piece of the value of about twenty-six shillings.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mona</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A she-monkey.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Monró</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> A friend; in thieves’ slang, an +adult. Z. ii. 149; P. ii. 453; M. viii. 18.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Montana</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +hill, mountain.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Monte</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A hill, mountain.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Montera</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +hunting-cap, a Montero cap.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Montero</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +hunter; originally, a mountaineer.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Moro</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Moorish.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mostrador</span>. <i>Span.</i> +The counter, of a shop.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mozo</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +youth, or lad; <i>moza</i>, a girl.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mselmeen</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Moslems. See <span class="smcap">Huáje</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Muchacho</span>, <span +class="smcap">Muchacha</span>. <i>Spn.</i> Boy; +girl.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mucho</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Much.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Muger</span>, <span +class="smcap">Mujer</span>. <i>Span.</i> Woman; +wife.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mujik</span>, <span +class="smcap">Muzhik</span>. <i>Russ.</i> A +peasant. It may be added that their popular song, +“Come, let us cut the cabbage” (i. 175), is not, as +might be supposed, an exhortation to horticultural +pursuits. “To cut the cabbage” is a slang +expression among the Slavs for killing a Turk, in allusion to the +green turbans worn by the descendants of the prophet.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Muk</span>. <i>Rom.</i> Let, +allow. See <span class="smcap">Meclis</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mundo</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> World.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mushee</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +I.e. <i>ma</i> = not, <i>shee</i> = thing.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Muy</span>. <i>Span.</i> Very, +much.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">Nacional</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A Nationalist; a member of the National +Guard.</p> +<p><a name="page410"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 410</span><span +class="smcap">Nada</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Nothing.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Nahi</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Translated by Borrow, lost. If so, perhaps connected with +<i>najabar</i>, to lose. P. ii. 324; Pp. 381; M. viii. +23. Possibly, however, it is only a negative = is +not. P. i. 319; A. 70.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Nao</span>. <i>Port.</i> +Ship.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Narangero</span>. <i>Span.</i> +An orange-seller.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Nava</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +plain.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Ndui</span>. <i>Hebr.</i> A +kind of hell, or purgatory, according to Borrow, who puts the +word into the mouth of his Lisbon Jews. It is, apparently, +the Hebr. <i>niddui</i> = ban, excommunication.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Nefsky</span>. <i>Russ.</i> Of +the Neva.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Negro</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> (1) Black; (2) a negro, or African; (3) the +nickname given by the Basque Carlists to the <i>Cristinos</i>, or +Constitutionalists, 1833–1839.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Nicabar</span>. <i>Rom.</i> To +take away, steal, destroy. P. ii. 326; Pp. 390; M. viii. +25.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Niri</span>. <i>Basque</i>. +My, mine.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Noche</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Night.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Nombre</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Name.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Novillo</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +young bull. See note, i. 361.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Novio</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Bridegroom, betrothed.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Nuar</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Flowers. More correctly, <i>nawār</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Nuestro</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Our.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Nuveiro</span>. This word is neither +Castilian, Galician, nor Portuguese; but is a made-up or fancy +word, from the Portuguese <i>nuvem</i>, a cloud; a cloud man, or +supernatural being.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">O</span>. <i>Rom.</i> The.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Ó</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Or.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Obispo</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Bishop.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Ojalateros</span>. +<i>Span.</i> “Waiters upon Providence.” A +burlesque word. See note, i. 169.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Onza</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +coin of the value of about £3 6<i>s.</i> 8<i>d.</i>; lit. +an <i>ounce</i> of gold. Also known as the <i>doblon de +à</i> 8; Anglicized as “piece of eight.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Oraçam</span>, <span +class="smcap">Oração</span>. +<i>Port.</i> A prayer.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Otro</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Other. <i>No hay otro en el mundo</i>, “There’s +none like it in the world.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Oulem</span>. <i>Hebr.</i> Of +the world. Arab. ‘<i>olam</i>.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">Pachí</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> Modesty, honour, virginity. P. ii. +347.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Paciencia</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Patience.</p> +<p><a name="page411"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 411</span><span +class="smcap">Paço</span>. <i>Port.</i> The +Court.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Padre</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Father.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Padrino</span>. <i>Span.</i> +(1) Sponsor, godfather; (2) second—in a duel.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Padron</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Patron, landlord.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pahan</span>. +<i>Phœn.</i> A rabbit.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Paisano</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A countryman; <i>not</i> a peasant, but a man +of the same country as another; a compatriot. As the +conventional answer to the challenge, “<i>Quien +vive</i>?” by a Spanish sentry, it means +“Civilian.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pajandi</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +guitar. According to Borrow, lit. “the thing that is +touched or played upon.” P. ii. 369, 426.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pajaria</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Straw-market. The place where straw is <i>kept</i> is <span +class="smcap">Pajar</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pal</span>. Rom. See <span +class="smcap">Plan</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Palabra</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +word.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Palomar</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +dovecote.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pan</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Bread.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Panhagia</span>. <i>Grk.</i> +Lit. All-holy. The Virgin Mary.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Paní</span>. See <span +class="smcap">Pawnee</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pañuelo</span>. +<i>Span.</i> A handkerchief. Lit. a little cloth.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Papas</span>. <i>Grk.</i> A +priest (παπᾶς).</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Para</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> For.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Parnó</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> White. P. ii. 359; Pp. 410; M. viii. +32.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Parné</span>. White, or +silver money; thence, as in the case of Fr. <i>argent</i>, money +in general. See <span +class="smcap">Parnó</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Parra</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Festoons of vines; the trellis or stakes upon which these +festoons are trained.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Parugar</span>. <i>Rom.</i> To +barter, swop, chaffer. P. ii. 354; Pp. 412; M. viii. +33.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pasteleros</span>. +<i>Span.</i> Pastrycooks.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pastesas</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +The hands. <i>Ustilar á pastesas</i> is to steal +“with the hands,” or by any sleight of hand. Z. +i. 315. The usual Span. gypsy word is <i>ba</i>, J.; +<i>bas</i>, Z. i. 522. Both are doubtless variations of the +more common <i>vast</i>. P. ii. 86; Pp. 573; M. viii. 94; +SC. 151.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pastor</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Shepherd.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Patio</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> The court of a house; either the open space +round which Spanish houses are so commonly built, or an open +court in front of it.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Patron</span>. See <span +class="smcap">Padron</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pawnee</span>, <span +class="smcap">Paní</span>. <i>Rom.</i> Water. +Hind. <i>paní</i>. The one special word known to all +gypsies wherever found, even in Brazil. P. ii. 343; Pp. +405; M. viii. 31; G. i. 61.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Peluni</span>. <i>Arab.</i> Of +another. See ii. 313.</p> +<p><a name="page412"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 412</span><span +class="smcap">Penar</span>, <span +class="smcap">Penelar</span>. <i>Rom.</i> To speak, +say. P. ii. 386; Pp. 421; M. viii. 41.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Peña</span>. +<i>Span.</i> A rock.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Peptndorio</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Antonio; proper name.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Perico</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +small parrot.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pero</span>. <i>Span.</i> +But</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Perro</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +dog.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pesar</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> To afflict, distress. Lit. to +weigh. <i>Me peso</i>, “I’m very +sorry.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Peseta</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +Spanish coin, representing, down to 1870, two silver reals or +four reals <i>vellon</i>, but since 1870 the standard or unit of +value in Spanish finance, is nearly equal to the French +<i>franc</i>, and, like it, divided for purposes of account, into +100 <i>centimos</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Petulengro</span>, <span +class="smcap">Petalengro</span>. <i>Eng. Rom.</i> A +shoeing smith. See note on i. 204; P. ii. 348; Pp. 427; M. +viii. 37; SC. 13, 121; and, generally, Lavengro and The Romany +Rye.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pfaffen</span>. <i>Germ.</i> +Monks; a contemptuous term for clerics generally, whether regular +or secular.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Piazza</span>. <i>Ital.</i> An +open square in a town, surrounded by colonnades. In modern +American parlance the word is often used for a veranda, in which +sense Borrow apparently uses it, i. 276.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Picador</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A riding-master, bull-fighter. See note, +i. 170, and <span class="smcap">Torero</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Picardia</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Knavishness; from <i>picaro</i>, a rogue, +knave, or loafer. The English adjective <i>picaresque</i> +is conventionally applied to a certain class of Spanish story of +low life and sharp practice relieved by humour.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pícaro</span>. <i>Span.</i> +and <i>Port.</i> Rogue, knave.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Picaron</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Augmentative (<i>on</i>) of <i>pícaro</i>, a great +scamp.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pica</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Peak, summit.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pila</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +water-trough.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pinar</span>, <span +class="smcap">Pinal</span>. <i>Span.</i> Grove or +wood of pine trees.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pinró</span>, <span +class="smcap">Pindró</span>, plur. <span +class="smcap">Pindré</span>. <i>Rom.</i> Foot; +<i>en pindré</i>, on foot P. ii. 351; Pp. 433; M. viii. +47; A. 33.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pio</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Pious.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pirar</span>, <span +class="smcap">Pirelar</span>. <i>Rom.</i> To go, +walk. P. ii. 382; Pp. 436; M. viii. 42.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pita</span>. <i>Span.</i> The +aloe (<i>Agave americana</i>).</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Plulí</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> A widow. P. ii. 377; Pp. 439; M. viii. +43.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Plako</span> or <span +class="smcap">Placo</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Tobacco. Russ. <i>prâk</i> = powder. P. ii. +361; Pp. 445; M. viii. 52. A gypsy model at Granada gave it +as <i>prajo</i> in 1876, “L” and <a +name="page413"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +413</span>“R” being often interchanged by the +peasants thereabouts. G. i. 177 and J. has <i>polvo</i> = +<i>praco</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Plan</span>, <span +class="smcap">Planoró</span>, <span +class="smcap">Plal</span>. <i>Rom.</i> Brother, +comrade. Eng. Rom. <i>pal</i>. P. ii. 383; A. 79; Pp. +445; M. viii. 43.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Playa</span>. <i>Span.</i> The +strand.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Plaza</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +square or open space in a town. Ital. <i>piazza</i>, +q.v.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Plazuela</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Dimin. of <span class="smcap">Plaza</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Poblacion</span>. <i>Span.</i> +(1) Population; (2) act of populating; (3) a town.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pobrecita</span>. <i>Span.</i> +“Poor thing!” Dimin. of <i>pobre</i>, poor.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Politico</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Political, civil. See note, ii. 127.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Polk</span>. <i>Russ.</i> A +regiment.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Poquito</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Dimin. of <i>poco</i>. Small, little.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Por</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> For.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Porque</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Because.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Posada</span>. <i>Span.</i> +“A lodging; from <i>posar</i>, to sit down or lodge, hence +lodging-house, tavern, or small hotel. The genuine Spanish +town inn is called the <i>posada</i>, as being meant to mean a +house of repose after the pains of travel. Strictly +speaking, the keeper is only bound to provide lodging, salt, and +the power of cooking whatever the traveller brings with him or +can procure out-of-doors, and in this it differs from the +<i>fonda</i>, in which meats and drinks are +furnished.”—Ford, <i>Gatherings from Spain</i>, ch. +xv.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Posadero</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Innkeeper.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Posta</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Post, post-house. <i>Casa de las +Postas</i>, General Post-office.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Praça</span>. +<i>Port.</i> Square, place.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Prado</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A lawn or meadow. The great promenade at +Madrid.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Praia</span>. <i>Gal.</i> +Seashore, strand.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Presidio</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Place of imprisonment, penitentiary; prim. a +fortress, or the garrison thereof.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Prestar</span>. <i>Port.</i> +To be of use.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Primero</span>. <i>Span.</i> +First.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Principe</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> <span class="smcap">Princeps</span>. +<i>Lat.</i> Prince.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Propina</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Lat. <i>propinare</i>. Drink-money; <i>pour boire</i>, a +tip.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Puchera </span>or <span +class="smcap">Puchero</span>. <i>Span.</i> A stew; +prim. the pot in which the stew is made, which, as in the case of +the <i>olla</i>, has come to signify the contents. The +<i>puchero</i> is more used in the north, the <i>olla</i> in the +south of the Peninsula. The combination <i>olla podrida</i> +is now at least never heard in Spain.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pueblo</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +small town, or village. <a name="page414"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 414</span><i>El pueblo</i>, the common +people.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Puente</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +bridge.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Puerta</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Door, gate. <i>Puerta del Sol</i>, Gate of the Sun. +The central point of Madrid.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Puerto</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +bay, or port; also a pass in the mountains.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Pulido</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Neat, delicate, charming.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">Quatro</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Four.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Que</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> What, that.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Quer</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +house. See <span class="smcap">Ker</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Quien</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Who.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Quiero</span>. <i>Span.</i> I +wish.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Quinta</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A country house.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">Rabbi</span>. <i>Hebr.</i> +Master.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Rainha</span>. <i>Port.</i> +Queen.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Rais</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Chief; captain of a ship.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Rajil</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Man.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Randado</span>.<i> Rom.</i> +Written. From <i>randar</i>, P. ii. 276.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Ratero</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Mean, scoundrelly.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Raya</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Border, boundary, or frontier.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Real</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Royal.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Real</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A coin or unit of value. The Spanish +plural is <i>reales</i>; the Portuguese, <i>reis</i> or +<i>rees</i>. The Spanish real is worth about +2½<i>d.</i> English; the Portuguese only 1/20<i>d.</i>, +one thousand reis making the Portuguese dollar, or piece of mil +reis, hence called a <i>milrei</i> or <i>milreis</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Regata</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +small channel, or, conduit.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Reja</span>. <i>Span.</i> The +iron grating before a window looking on to the street of a +town. The recognized trysting-place of a lover and his +mistress.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Relacion</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Relation, story.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Rematar</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> To end, finish. <i>Que Dios remate tu +nombre</i>! “May God blot out your name!”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Render</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> To yield, surrender.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Repañi</span>. +<i>Rom.</i> Brandy. This word, given in 1876 +(<i>v.</i> <span class="smcap">Plako</span>), is derived by Pott +from <i>repañi</i> (<i>repañó</i>, J.), a +radish, the connexion being the sharp taste of both (ii. +274). Remembering the “fire-water” of the +Indians, the <i>aguardiente</i> of Spain and Portugal, and the +<i>tattopani</i> of the Eng. gypsies, I am tempted to suggest +another explanation. J. gives <i>ardiente</i> = +<i>carí</i>, and <i>aguardiente</i> = +<i>pañicarí</i>. Now <i>car</i> (P. ii. 125) +or <i>jar</i> (<i>ib.</i> 171) = heat. Change the <a +name="page415"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 415</span>order of +the words and <i>caripañi</i> might shorten into +<i>repañí</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Repostero</span>. <i>Span.</i> +The butler, or majordomo, in a great house. The +<i>reposteria</i> is the plate-room, storeroom, or pantry.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Reputacion</span>. +<i>Span.</i> Reputation. <i>Gente de reputacion</i>, +“swells,” “swagger people.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Requiso</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Requisitioning (from <i>requerir</i>). A technical word; +the authority that requisitions private property, horses, etc., +for the use of the national army in time of war.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Reyna</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Queen.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Ria</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> An estuary, as the mouth of a river. +More particularly applied to the numerous bays on the Galician +and Asturian coasts of Northwest Spain.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Ro</span>, <span +class="smcap">Rom</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A husband; a +married gypsy. <i>Roma</i>, the husbands, is the generic +name of the gypsy nation, or Romany. P. ii. 275; A. 56; Pp. +462; M. viii. 58; McR. 91.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Romero</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Rosemary.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Romi</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +married gypsywoman; fem. of <i>rom</i>, a husband; a married +gypsy.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Roque</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> The “rook,” or +“castle,” at chess. Pers. <i>rukh</i>. +The same word is used for the fabulous bird of immense size so +often mentioned in Oriental tales.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Rouble</span>. <i>Russ.</i> A +kind of Russian money, either silver or paper. Its present +value is about two shillings.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Ruah</span>. Arab, and +<i>Hebr.</i> Spirit. Used throughout the Old Test, to +denote the Spirit of God, the Holy Spirit.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Rufianesco</span>. +<i>Span.</i> Ruffian, criminal.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Rune</span>. <i>Eng.</i> (1) A +letter of the ancient Scandinavian alphabet, usually carved on +stone. (2) A short mystic sentence of Scandinavian +origin. Norse and Danish <i>rune</i>, Swed. +<i>runa</i>.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">Sabio</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Learned. King Alfonso X. was surnamed +<i>El Sabio</i>, which is sometimes erroneously rendered +“The Wise.” <i>Sabio</i> is, rather, +“erudite;” and the king was undoubtedly the most +learned man of his time, though his government was not always by +any means wise.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sacro</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Sacred.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Safacoro</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +The city of Seville. P. ii. 248. J. gives +<i>Sevillano</i> = <i>Safacorano</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sagadua</span>, <span +class="smcap">Sagardua</span>. <i>Basque</i>. Cider; +<i>i.e.</i> the strong or Spanish cider, called in French Basque +<i>charnoa</i> or <i>sharnoa</i>, as distinguished from the weak +cider which <a name="page416"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +416</span>is made from apples rotted in water. A probable +etymology is <i>sagar</i> = apple; <i>arno</i> = wine.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sagra</span>. <i>Span.</i> The +name of certain districts in Spain, especially of one lying north +of Toledo. The word is probably derived from the Arab +<i>ṣaḥra</i> = a plain. See note, i. 257.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Salamanquesa</span>. +<i>Span.</i> A salamander, or, star-lizard; otherwise +called <i>salamandra</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sandia</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +water-melon.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Santiguo</span>. <i>Span.</i> +The action of crossing one’s self. <i>Santiguar</i> +is “to make the sign of the cross.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Santo</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Sainted, holy. <i>La Santa Casa</i>, the +Inquisition.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Santon</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +great saint; more especially applied to Moslem recluses. +Also, a hypocrite.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Santurron</span>. <i>Span.</i> +A great saint; usually, a great hypocrite.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sardinha</span>. <i>Port.</i> and +<i>Gal.</i> A sardine. Borrow’s friends, <i>la +gente rufianesca</i>, have a quaint name for a galley-slave, +<i>apaleador de sardinas</i>, a sardine-beater. H. 155.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sba</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Morning. More correctly, <i>ṣabāḥ</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Scharki</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +The East.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Scharr</span>. See <span +class="smcap">Daoud</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Schophon</span>. <i>Heb.</i> +<i>Shâphân</i> (שׁפן) A +quadruped which chews the cud like a hare (Lev. xi. 5; Deut. xiv. +7); which lives gregariously on rocks, and is remarkable for its +cunning (Ps. civ. 18; Prov. xxx. 26). The Rabbins render +<i>coney</i>, or <i>rabbit</i>; more correctly the LXX. in three +places +χοιρογρύλλιος, +<i>i.e.</i> an animal resembling the <i>marmot</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sé</span>. <i>Span.</i> +I know; from <i>saber</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sea</span>. <i>Span.</i> May +he be; from <i>ser</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Seco</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Dry. See ii. 82.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Secretario</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Secretary.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Segun</span>. <i>Span.</i> +According to.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Segundo</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Second.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Senhor</span>, <span +class="smcap">Senhora</span>. <i>Port.</i> <span +class="smcap">Señor</span>, <span +class="smcap">Señora</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Gentleman, lady.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Señorito</span>, <span +class="smcap">Señorita</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Dimin. of the above.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Seo</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +cathedral church.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sereka</span>. <i>Arab.</i> A +theft. More correctly, <i>sarika</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Serra</span>. <i>Port.</i> A +high range of mountains; the Spanish sierra.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Serrador</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A sawyer. Although according to some +authorities this was the real name of the person mentioned in i. +138, 233, it seems that he was really a sawyer, by name +José Miralles, born in Valencia, on the borders of +Aragon. He served under <i>El Fraile</i> (The Friar), a <a +name="page417"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 417</span>Guerilla +chief in the Napoleonic wars, and was rather the rival than the +lieutenant of Cabrera, who imprisoned him, on which occasion he +broke both his legs in a vain attempt to escape. He +subsequently took part in the rising at Maeztrazgo, in 1844, and +died in the campaign of that year, while serving under General +Villalonga.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Serrania</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> District or country of <i>sierras</i>, or +mountain ridges.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Servil</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Servile. Applied, as a substantive, as a +party nickname to the Royalists on the outbreak of the first +civil war in 1820.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sesó</span> (fem. <span +class="smcap">Sesí</span>, plur. <span +class="smcap">Sesé</span>, also = Spain). +<i>Rom.</i> A Spaniard. In Spanish the word signifies +“brain,” P. ii. 249.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Shaitán</span>. +<i>Arab.</i> Satan, the devil.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Shee</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Thing.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Shekel</span>. <i>Hebr.</i> A +Hebrew coin of uncertain value. The word itself means +merely “a weight.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Shem</span>. <i>Hebr.</i> +Name.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Shem Hamphorash</span>. +<i>Hebr.</i> The separated, reserved, or special Name, i.e. +<i>Yahweh</i>. Always transliterated <i>Adonai</i>. +Lord (a word which itself, perhaps, contains the Span. +<i>Don</i>), whence Κύριος, +<i>Dominus</i>, and the <span class="smcap">Lord</span>, have +found their way into translations of the Old Testament. Our +English “Jehovah” contains the forbidden consonants +of <i>Yahweh</i> and the vowel points of <i>Adonai</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Shereef</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Noble.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Shillam eidri</span>. Apparently +meant for <i>lashon ivri</i> = the Hebrew tongue.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Shoob</span>. Borrovian for the +Russian <i>shuba</i>, a fur cloak or pelisse. The word has +made its way into Eng. Rom. as <i>shooba</i>, a gown.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Shrit</span>. Apparently for the +Arabic <i>ishtari</i> = buy.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sibat</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Slippers. More correctly, <i>sabbāt</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sidi</span>. <i>Arab.</i> My +lord. More usually written <i>Said</i> or <i>Sayyid</i>, +the same as the more familiar Cid. The fem. +<i>Sitti</i> = my lady, is familiar to every lady who has visited +North Africa.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sierras</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Lit. saws; applied to mountain ranges, from their serrated +outline.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Siesta</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Lat. <i>sexta</i> (<i>hora</i>), noon. Noontide or +afternoon sleep. <i>Sext</i> is one of the canonical hours +of the Catholic Church.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Siete</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Seven.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Siglo</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Century, age.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Signor</span>, <span +class="smcap">Signore</span>. <i>Ital.</i> Sir.</p> +<p><a name="page418"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 418</span><span +class="smcap">Sin</span>. <i>Span.</i> Without.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sinah</span>. See <span +class="smcap">Dar</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sinar</span>. <i>Rom.</i> To +be. <i>Sin</i>, he is; <i>sinava</i>, I was. P. ii. +250; Pp. 255; M. vii. 66.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sōc</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +A market. More correctly, <i>sūḳ</i>. +<i>Soc de barra</i> = outer market.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sociedad</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Society.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Soga</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +rope; a well-rope; a halter for beasts; the halter for hanging a +man.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Solabarri</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Bridle. P. ii. 239; Pp. 487; M. viii. 69.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sombrero</span>. <i>Span.</i> +A hat; that which gives <i>sombra</i>, or shade.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Son</span>. <i>Span.</i> They +are; from <i>ser</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sonacai</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Gold. P. ii. 227; Pp. 481; M. viii. 68.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sopa</span>. <i>Span.</i> (1) +Soup. (2) The entire dinner.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sotea</span>. <i>Port.</i> +Flat roof; balcony; platform.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sou</span>. <i>Port.</i> <span +class="smcap">Soy</span>. <i>Span.</i> I am; from +<i>ser</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sowanee</span>. <i>Rom.</i> A +sorceress. Used by Borrow, i. 122, for the more correct +<i>chuajañi</i>, Eng. Rom. <i>chovihoni</i>. P. ii. +190; Pp. 549; M. vii. 37.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Su</span>. <i>Span.</i> <span +class="smcap">Suus</span>. <i>Lat.</i> His.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Svend</span>. <i>Dan.</i> +Swain.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">Tabla</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +board, or plank.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Tal</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Such. <i>Que tal</i>? “How +goes it?”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Talib</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Learned, Lit. “a seeker,” used in some +countries for “a devotee.” More correctly, +<i>ṭālib</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Tambien</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Also, likewise, as well.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Tan</span>. <i>Span.</i> +So.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Tarde</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Afternoon, evening.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Teatro</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Theatre.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Tebleque</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +God the Saviour, Jesus. P. ii. 312; J.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Tener</span>. <i>Span.</i> To +take, hold, have. See <span +class="smcap">Modo</span>. <i>Tuvose</i>, it was held, or, +thought.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Terelar</span>.<i> Rom.</i> To +have, hold. P. ii, 294; A. 41; Pp. 512; M. viii. 79.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Terreiro</span>. <i>Port.</i> +A parade, promenade.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Tertulia</span>. <i>Span.</i> +An assembly, conversazione.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Tinaja</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +large earthen jar.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Tinto</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Coloured. <i>Vino tinto</i>, red +wine.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Tio</span>, <span +class="smcap">Tia</span>. <i>Span.</i> Uncle; +aunt. Applied in common life as a term of familiar address +to any one, not related to the speaker. Something like the +Old English <i>gaffer</i> and <i>gammer</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Tipotas</span>. <i>Grk.</i> +Nothing (πίποτε).</p> +<p><a name="page419"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 419</span><span +class="smcap">Tirar</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> To throw, remove, shoot. <i>Tirar por +detras</i>, to kick out behind.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Tocino</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Bacon, pork.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Todo</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> All.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Toma</span>. <i>Span.</i> Lit. +take; as an interjection, “Come!” “Look +here!”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Tomate</span>. <i>Span.</i> +The tomato (<i>Lycopersicum esculentum</i>).</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Tonsura</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> (1) A cutting, of hair or wool. (2) The +first of the ecclesiastical orders.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Torah</span>, or <span +class="smcap">Thorah</span>. <i>Hebr.</i> The books +of the Law; the Pentateuch.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Toreador</span>. See <span +class="smcap">Torero</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Torero</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +professional bull-fighter. These are of three +classes—the <i>picadores</i>, or horsemen; the +<i>bandarilleros</i>, or placers of <i>banderillos</i>; and the +<i>matador</i>, or <i>espada</i>. Each company, or +<i>cuadrilla</i>, of fighters consists of a <i>matador</i>, chief +of the band, three <i>bandarilleros</i>, and two +<i>picadores</i>. There is also usually a +<i>sobresaliente</i> (or understudy) <i>de espada</i>, in case of +accidents; and a certain number of <i>chulos</i>, or men with +cloaks, complete the personnel of the ring.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Traducido</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Translated. From <i>traducir</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Traer</span>. <i>Span.</i> To +bear, carry.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Traguillo</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Dim. of <i>trago</i>. A draught, drink.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Trampa</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> A trap, snare.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Trinidad</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Trinity.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Tsadik</span>. <i>Hebr.</i> +Righteous. Hence Tsadok, the leader of the Sadducees, +derived his name.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Tucue</span>. <i>Rom.</i> +Thee, with thee. See <span class="smcap">Tute</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Tuerto</span>. <i>Span.</i> +One-eyed.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Tunante</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Truant; lazy scoundrel.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Tute</span>. <i>Rom.</i> Thou, +thee. P. i. 229; Pp. 66; M. viii. 87.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Tuvose</span>. See <span +class="smcap">Tener</span>.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">Undevel</span>, <span +class="smcap">Undebel</span>. <i>Rom.</i> God. +According to Borrow, the first syllable of the word is the +<i>Om</i> of the Brahmins and Indian Buddhists, one of the names +of the Deity. Pott, however, denies this, ii. 75, 311; A. +285 Pp. 205; M. vii. 42; G. i. 177.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Uria</span>. <i>Basque</i>. +City. So translated by Borrow, but I cannot find the +word. The correct Basque is <i>iri</i> or <i>hiri</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Usted</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Contracted form of <i>vuestra merced</i>, your worship; used for +“you;” now written simply V<sup>d</sup> or V.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Ustilar</span>. <i>Rom.</i> To +take, take up, steal. <a name="page420"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 420</span>Z. ii. * 118; J. Cf. +<i>ostilar</i>, to steal. P. ii. 72, 246. See <span +class="smcap">Pastesas</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Valdepeñas</span>. +<i>Span.</i> The red wine made in the neighbourhood of that +town, in die heart of La Mancha. It is about the best in +Spain.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Valer</span>. <i>Span.</i> To +be worth, prevail, protect. <i>Valgame Dios</i>! +“May God protect me!” “S’help +me!”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Valido</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Powerful, respected. See note, ii. +376.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Valiente</span>.<i> Span.</i> +(1) As an adjective, strong or valiant. (2) As a +substantive, in a less honourable sense, as “cock of the +walk,” or bully.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Vamos</span>, or <span +class="smcap">Vamonos</span>. <i>Span.</i> “Let +us go!” “Come along!”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Vástaco</span>. +<i>Span.</i> Stem, bud, shoot.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Vaya</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +very common interjection or expression, “Come!” +“Get along!” “Let it go!” Imper. of +<i>ir</i>, to go.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Vecino</span>. <i>Span.</i> An +inhabitant; as an adjective, neighbouring.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Vega</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +meadow or plain; an open tract of level and fruitful ground, more +particularly applied to the country around Granada; generally an +alluvial tract formed by the bend of a river or expansion of a +valley.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Velho</span>. <i>Port.</i> +Old.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Venta</span>. <i>Span.</i> +<span class="smcap">Venda</span>. <i>Port.</i> +Strictly speaking, an isolated country inn, or house of reception +on the road; and if it be not of physical entertainment, it is at +least one of moral, and accordingly figures in prominent +characters in all the personal narratives and travels in +Spain. The <i>venta</i> is inferior in rank to the +<i>posada</i>, q.v. The original meaning of the word is +“sale.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Verdadero</span>. <i>Span.</i> +True.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Verdugo</span>, <span +class="smcap">Verduga</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> Said of an exceedingly cruel person. +Prim. a switch, then a flogger, or executioner.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Viaje</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +voyage.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Vid</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Vine.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Viejo</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Old; an old man.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Villa</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +town; greater than an <i>aldea</i> or village, less than a +<i>ciudad</i> or city.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Villano</span>, <span +class="smcap">Villana</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Countryman, peasant; country girl or woman.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Vino</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Wine.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Virgen</span>. <i>Span.</i> +<span class="smcap">Virgo</span>. <i>Lat.</i> +Virgin.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Vise</span>. <i>Nor. Dan.</i> +A ballad.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Visé</span>. <i>Fr.</i> +Endorsed, or furnished with the official visa. As commonly +applied to passports, neither the verb nor <a +name="page421"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 421</span>the +substantive has any exact equivalent in English.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Viver</span>. <i>Span.</i> and +<i>Port.</i> To live. <i>Que viva</i>! +“Long life to him!”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Vossé</span>, or <span +class="smcap">Vossem</span>. <i>Port.</i> <i>Vossa +mercé</i>, your worship; you. Gal. +<i>vusté</i>; Span. <i>usted</i>. See note, i. +89.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Voy</span>. <i>Span.</i> I am +going; from <i>ir</i>.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">Wady</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +River. <i>Wady al kebir</i> = the great river, the +Guadalquivir.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Wakhud</span>. <i>Arab.</i> A, +the article. More correctly, <i>waḥid</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Wullah</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +“By God!”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Wustuddur</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +Home; abode. Lit. the middle of the houses. See <span +class="smcap">Dar</span>.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">Y</span>. <i>Span.</i> +And.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Yaw</span>. Borrovian for the +Germ. <i>ja</i> = yes.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Ydoorshee</span>. <i>Arab.</i> +It signifies; lit. it hurts.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Yerba</span>. <i>Span.</i> (1) +Grass. (2) Poison.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Yesca</span>. <i>Span.</i> +Under.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Yo</span>. <i>Span.</i> I.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Youm</span>. <i>Arab.</i> A +day.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Yudken</span>. <i>Germ.</i> A +little Jew; more correctly, <i>Jüdchen</i>.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><span class="smcap">Zamarra</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +sheepskin coat, the woolly side turned inwards; from the Basque +<i>echamarra</i> (having the same signification), usually worn by +shepherds. The French <i>chamarrer</i>, to deck out, or +bedizen, is said to be a word of kindred origin.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Zarza</span>. <i>Span.</i> A +bramble.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Zincalo</span>. plur. <span +class="smcap">Zincali</span>. <i>Span. Rom.</i> +Gypsy. P. ii. 259; M. viii. 65.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Zohar</span>. <i>Hebr.</i> +Brilliancy. See note, ii. 318.</p> +<h2><a name="page423"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +423</span>INDEX.</h2> +<p>Abades, ii. 209</p> +<p>Abyla, Mount (Gibil Muza), ii. 295</p> +<p>Aguilar, Antonio Garcia de, i. 282–286</p> +<p>Alcalá de Guadaira, i. 223</p> +<p>Aldea Gallega, i. 19, 58, 71</p> +<p>Alemtejo, i. 16, 72</p> +<p>Algeziras, ii. 296</p> +<p>Andalusia, Desert of, i. 224</p> +<p>Andalusians, The, ii. 261</p> +<p>Andujar, i. 253</p> +<p>Antigola, ii. 206</p> +<p>Antonio, the gypsy, i. 106</p> +<p>Antonio Buchini, i. 265; ii. 161, 171, 217</p> +<p>Aranjuez, 1. 254; ii. 202</p> +<p>Arroyolos, i. 84</p> +<p>Astorga, i. 318</p> +<p>Asturias, The, ii. 59</p> +<p>Azeca, Bridge of, 11. 192</p> +<p>Azido, Jozé Dias, i. 74</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Badajoz, i. 96, 105</p> +<p>Bailen, i. 253</p> +<p>Balmaseda, ii. 211</p> +<p>Balseiro, i. 177; ii. 154</p> +<p>Baltasar, the National, i. 167, 206</p> +<p>Baralla Pass, ii. 60</p> +<p>Basques, The, and their language, ii. 112 <i>et seq.</i></p> +<p>Beckford, William, i. 9</p> +<p>Bembibre, i. 333</p> +<p>Benedict Mol, i. 190, 382, 385; ii. 73, 165, 181</p> +<p>Bermudez, Cean, i. 266</p> +<p>Betanzos, i. 364</p> +<p>Bilbao, ii. 93</p> +<p>Bonanza, i. 214; ii. 273</p> +<p>Borrego, Don Andrés, i. 259</p> +<p>Brackenbury, John (Consul at Cadiz), ii. 288</p> +<p>Buchini, Antonio, i. 265; ii. 161, 171, 217</p> +<p>Burgos, ii. 98</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Cabrera, General, i. 233</p> +<p>Cacabelos, i. 338</p> +<p>Cadiz, i. 212; ii. 286</p> +<p>Caldas de Reyes, i. 394</p> +<p>Calzado, Pepe, ii. 101</p> +<p>Caneiro, ii. 62</p> +<p>Cantwell, Patrick, i. 280</p> +<p>Carmona, i. 224</p> +<p>Carolina, i. 253</p> +<p>Castro, John de, i. 9</p> +<p>Castro Pol, ii. 59</p> +<p>Christina, Queen Regent, i. 197</p> +<p>Chrysostom, Johannes, ii. 256</p> +<p>Cintra, i. 7</p> +<p>Clarendon, Lord, i. 164, 271; ii. 121, 124, 218</p> +<p><a name="page424"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +424</span>Cobeña, ii. 221</p> +<p>Coisa Doiro, ii. 46</p> +<p>Colhares, i. 10</p> +<p>Colunga, ii. 83</p> +<p>Compostella, i. 192, 377; ii. 183</p> +<p>Contrabandistas, Spanish, ii. 35, 45</p> +<p>Corcuvion, ii. 35</p> +<p>Cordova, i. 229, 238</p> +<p>Cordova, General, i, 180, 267</p> +<p>Correa, Joanna, ii. 355</p> +<p>Corunna, i. 367; ii. 41</p> +<p>Cuesta del Espinal, i. 228</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>D’Almeida, J. Ferreira, i. 98</p> +<p>D’Azveto, Don Geronimo, i. 25, 38</p> +<p>Dehesa, The, ii. 259</p> +<p>Despeñaperros Pass, i. 254</p> +<p>Diaz, Maria, i. 256; ii. 130, 159</p> +<p>Dionysius, ii. 263</p> +<p>Doddridge, Dr. P., i. 6</p> +<p>Dueñas, i. 303</p> +<p>Duero (Douro), i. 293</p> +<p>Duyo, ii. 23</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Elvas, i. 94</p> +<p>Estremadura, i. 146</p> +<p>Estremoz, i. 87</p> +<p>Evora, i. 16, 33</p> +<p>Execution of criminals, i. 171</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Fava, Pascual, ii. 381</p> +<p>Ferrol, ii. 42</p> +<p>Feyjoo, Benito, ii. 79</p> +<p>Fielding, Henry, i. 6</p> +<p>Finisterre, Cape, i. 209; ii. 21, 24</p> +<p>Flinter, G. D. (the Irishman), ii. 92</p> +<p>Fragey, Ephraim, ii. 369</p> +<p>Fuencebadon Pass, i. 344</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Galiano, Alcala, i. 179, 181, 195</p> +<p>Galicia, i, 1, 347; ii. 59</p> +<p>Gallegan language, i. 351</p> +<p>Garcia, Sergeant, i. 197, 273</p> +<p>Gartland, Dr., i. 276</p> +<p>Gibraltar, ii. 300</p> +<p>Gijon, ii. 70</p> +<p>Gomez, i. 194, 212, 218, 233</p> +<p>Guadalquivir, i. 214; ii. 249, 272</p> +<p>Guadarrama Mountains, i. 151</p> +<p>Guadiana River, i. 102</p> +<p>Gypsies, Spanish, i. 105</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Hervey, Lord William, ii. 211</p> +<p>Hirias, Archbishop (Toledo), ii. 174</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Isturitz, Don Francis Xavier de, i. 179, 181, 196</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Jaraicejo, i. 135</p> +<p>Judaism, i. 67, 247</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Labajos, i. 210</p> +<p>La Granja, i. 197; ii. 208</p> +<p>La Mancha, i. 254</p> +<p>Lariategui, i. 262, 295</p> +<p>Las Batuecas, i. 152</p> +<p>Leganez, ii. 185</p> +<p>Leon, i. 315</p> +<p>Leyden, Dr. John, i. 76</p> +<p>Lib, Judah, ii. 317</p> +<p>Lisbon, i. 3, 15, 58, 66, 212</p> +<p>Llanes, ii. 88</p> +<p>Los Angeles, ii. 7</p> +<p>Luarca, ii. 61</p> +<p>Lugo, i. 354, 358</p> +<p>Luigi Piozzi, ii. 370</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Madrid, i. 162, 173, 256, 270; ii. 99, 121, 217, 334</p> +<p><a name="page425"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +425</span>Mafra, i. 12</p> +<p>Manzanal, i. 327</p> +<p>Manzanares, ii. 216, 248</p> +<p>Maragatos, The, i. 321</p> +<p>Medina del Campo, i. 291</p> +<p>Mendizabal, Juan Alvarez y, i. 164</p> +<p>Merida, i. 114, 125</p> +<p>Miguelets, The, i. 363</p> +<p>Mirabete Pass, i. 145</p> +<p>Mol, Benedict, i. 190, 382, 385; ii. 73, 165, 181</p> +<p>Moncloa, i. 225</p> +<p>Montaneda, ii. 96</p> +<p>Monte Almo, i. 29</p> +<p>Monte Moro, i. 28, 53, 75</p> +<p>Monte Moro Novo, i. 87</p> +<p>Montes, Francisco, i. 170</p> +<p>Moore, Sir John, i. 374</p> +<p>Moors, The, i. 116, 239</p> +<p>Munoz, i. 198</p> +<p>Muros, ii. 65</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Naval Carnero, ii. 232</p> +<p>Navias, ii. 59</p> +<p>New Castile, i. 150</p> +<p>Nogales, i. 350</p> +<p>Novales, ii. 45</p> +<p>Noyo, ii. 13</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Ocaña, ii. 204</p> +<p>Ofalia, Count, ii. 121, 124, 141</p> +<p>Old Castile, i. 274; Plains of, i. 290</p> +<p>Oliban, the secretary, i. 183, 195</p> +<p>Oñas, ii. 98</p> +<p>Oropesa, i. 150</p> +<p>Oviedo, ii. 70</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Padron, i. 392; ii. 1</p> +<p>Palencia, i. 309</p> +<p>Pascual Fava, ii. 381</p> +<p>Pedroso, i. 286</p> +<p>Pegões, 1. 24, 74</p> +<p>Peña Cerrada Pass, ii. 207</p> +<p>Peñaranda, i. 275</p> +<p>Petulengres, i. 204</p> +<p>Philippi, Mr., ii. 276, 278</p> +<p>Pico Sacro, i. 377</p> +<p>Piozzi, Luigi, i. 370</p> +<p>Pitiegua, i. 281</p> +<p>Pontevedra, i. 395</p> +<p>Portuguese Jews, i. 409</p> +<p>Puerto de Lumbreras, ii. 246</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Quesada, i. 181, 199, 202</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Rey Romero, i. 380</p> +<p>Ribida de Sella, ii. 88</p> +<p>Rivadeo, ii. 53</p> +<p>Rivas, Duke of, i. 183</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Sabocha, the robber, i. 21</p> +<p>Sagra of Toledo, The, i. 257, ii. 194</p> +<p>Saint James of Compostella, i. 192, 377</p> +<p>Salamanca, i. 275</p> +<p>Sanchez, Antonio, i. 170</p> +<p>San Lucar, i. 214; ii. 274</p> +<p>San Martin de Duyo, ii. 23</p> +<p>Santa Colombo, ii. 89</p> +<p>Santa Marta, ii. 45</p> +<p>Santander, ii. 90</p> +<p>Santi Ponce, i. 217</p> +<p>Santillana, ii. 90</p> +<p>San Vicente, ii. 89</p> +<p>Scio, Padre Filipe, i. 259</p> +<p>Segovia, ii. 209</p> +<p>Serra Dorso, i. 33, 87</p> +<p>Sevilla Francesco, i. 170, 176</p> +<p>Seville, i. 215; ii. 214, 248</p> +<p>Sierra de Buron, ii. 60</p> +<p>Sierra de Ronda, i. 215</p> +<p>Sierra Morena, i. 241</p> +<p>Soto Luino, ii. 64</p> +<p>Southern, Mr., i. 271; ii. 133, 135, 139</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><a name="page426"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +426</span>Tagus, The, i. 3, 18, 145</p> +<p>Talavera, i. 155</p> +<p>Tangier, ii. 342</p> +<p>Tarifa, ii. 294, 341</p> +<p>Taylor, Baron, i. 220</p> +<p>Toledo, ii. 102–107</p> +<p>Tormes River, i. 276</p> +<p>Toro, i. 300</p> +<p>Trafalgar Bay, ii. 292</p> +<p>Triana, i. 216</p> +<p>Trujillo, i. 130</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Valladolid, i. 294</p> +<p>Vargas, ii. 187, 195</p> +<p>Vendas Novas, i. 27, 55, 74</p> +<p>Vendas Velhas, i. 21</p> +<p>Villa del Padron, i. 392; ii. 1</p> +<p>Villafranca, i. 341</p> +<p>Villa Seca, ii. 185</p> +<p>Villa Viciosa, ii. 83</p> +<p>Vigo, i. 403</p> +<p>Villiers, Sir George. <i>See</i> Clarendon, Lord</p> +<p>Viveiro, ii. 50</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Zariategui, i. 262, 295</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">THE END.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">london</span>: +<span class="smcap">printed by william clowes and sons</span>, +<span class="smcap">limited</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">stamford street and charing cross</span>.</p> +<h2>Footnotes</h2> +<p><a name="footnote2"></a><a href="#citation2" +class="footnote">[2]</a> See note, vol. i. p. 120.</p> +<p><a name="footnote12"></a><a href="#citation12" +class="footnote">[12]</a> A fanciful word of Portuguese +etymology from <i>nuvem</i>, cloud = the cloud-man.</p> +<p><a name="footnote14"></a><a href="#citation14" +class="footnote">[14]</a> <i>Inha</i>, when affixed to +words, serves as a diminutive. It is much in use amongst +the Gallegans. It is pronounced <i>ínia</i>, the +Portuguese and Galician <i>nh</i> being equivalent to the Spanish +<i>ñ</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote22"></a><a href="#citation22" +class="footnote">[22]</a> “Flock of +drunkards.” <i>Fato</i>, in Gal. as in Port. = a herd +or flock. Span. <i>hato</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote23"></a><a href="#citation23" +class="footnote">[23]</a> San Martin de Duyo, a village, +according to Madoz, of sixty houses. There are no remains +of the ancient Duyo.</p> +<p><a name="footnote26"></a><a href="#citation26" +class="footnote">[26]</a> Galician; lit. the shore of the +outer sea.</p> +<p><a name="footnote28"></a><a href="#citation28" +class="footnote">[28]</a> “By God! I am going +too.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote29"></a><a href="#citation29" +class="footnote">[29]</a> Who served as a subordinate +general in the Carlist armies.</p> +<p><a name="footnote37"></a><a href="#citation37" +class="footnote">[37]</a> “The good lad.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote43a"></a><a href="#citation43a" +class="footnote">[43a]</a> In Spanish, +<i>guardacostas</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote43b"></a><a href="#citation43b" +class="footnote">[43b]</a> More correctly, <i>el Ferrol</i> +or <i>farol</i>, the lighthouse. Nothing can more +strikingly give the lie to the conventional taunt that Spain has +made no progress in recent years than the condition of the modern +town of el Ferrol compared with the description in the +text. It is now a flourishing and remarkably clean town of +over 23,000 inhabitants, with an arsenal not only magnificent in +its construction, but filled with every modern appliance, +employing daily some 4000 skilled workmen, whose club (<i>el +liceo de los artesanos</i>) might serve as a model for similar +institutions in more “advanced” countries. It +comprises a library, recreation-room, casino, sick fund, benefit +society, and school; and lectures and evening parties, dramatic +entertainments, and classes for scientific students, are all to +be found within its walls.</p> +<p><a name="footnote45"></a><a href="#citation45" +class="footnote">[45]</a> A little town charmingly situated +on a little bay at the mouth of the river Eo, which divides +Galicia from Asturias, famous for oysters and salmon.</p> +<p><a name="footnote46"></a><a href="#citation46" +class="footnote">[46]</a> Signifying in Portugese or +Galician, “A thing of gold.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote47"></a><a href="#citation47" +class="footnote">[47]</a> Tertian ague, or intermittent +three-day fever.</p> +<p><a name="footnote49"></a><a href="#citation49" +class="footnote">[49]</a> “Come along, my little +Parrot!”</p> +<p><a name="footnote58a"></a><a href="#citation58a" +class="footnote">[58a]</a> A town on the sea-coast about +half-way between Rivadeo and Aviles.</p> +<p><a name="footnote58b"></a><a href="#citation58b" +class="footnote">[58b]</a> Query. See note, p. +45.</p> +<p><a name="footnote59"></a><a href="#citation59" +class="footnote">[59]</a> On the right bank of the Eo, over +against Rivadeo.</p> +<p><a name="footnote62a"></a><a href="#citation62a" +class="footnote">[62a]</a> The port of Oviedo.</p> +<p><a name="footnote62b"></a><a href="#citation62b" +class="footnote">[62b]</a> See the Glossary, <i>s.v.</i> +<span class="smcap">Copla</span>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote66"></a><a href="#citation66" +class="footnote">[66]</a> “God bless me!”</p> +<p><a name="footnote67"></a><a href="#citation67" +class="footnote">[67]</a> I.e. <i>Bascuence</i>, or +<i>Vascuence</i>, the Basque language.</p> +<p><a name="footnote70"></a><a href="#citation70" +class="footnote">[70]</a> Query, Aviles?</p> +<p><a name="footnote71"></a><a href="#citation71" +class="footnote">[71]</a> Job xxxix. 25: “. . . the +thunder of the captains, and the shouting.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote75"></a><a href="#citation75" +class="footnote">[75]</a> “Good heavens!”</p> +<p><a name="footnote76"></a><a href="#citation76" +class="footnote">[76]</a> I.e. <i>jacas</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote79a"></a><a href="#citation79a" +class="footnote">[79a]</a> The cathedral at Oviedo is one +of the oldest and most interesting foundations in Spain. +The first stone was laid by Alfonso II. in 802; the greater part +of the existing edifice is of the fourteenth century.</p> +<p>But the great glory of Oviedo, entitling it to rank as second +among the holy cities of Christian Spain, is the Camara Santa, +and the relics therein contained (see Burke’s <i>History of +Spain</i> vol. i. pp. 122–124, 140, 141, 147–150, +165, 275; vol. ii. pp. 8–11; and Murray’s +<i>Handbook</i>, sub. <i>Oviedo</i>).</p> +<p><a name="footnote79b"></a><a href="#citation79b" +class="footnote">[79b]</a> Benito Feyjoo was born in 1676, +and having assumed the Benedictine habit early in life, settled +at length in a convent of his order at Oviedo, where he lived for +hard on fifty years. He died in 1764.</p> +<p>A strange mixture of a devout Catholic and a scientific +innovator, he was an earnest student of Bacon, Newton, Pascal, +Leibnitz, and others, whose opinions he embodied in his own +works. Learned, judicious, and diligent rather than a man +of genius, he was original at least as regards his conceptions of +the nature and limits of scientific research in Spain. He +kept on good terms with the Inquisition, while he continued to +publish in his <i>Teatro Critico</i> and his <i>Cartas Eruditas y +Curiosas</i> all that the Inquisitors would desire to remain +unread; attacked the dialectics and metaphysics then taught +everywhere in Spain; maintained Bacon’s system of induction +in the physical sciences; ridiculed the general opinion as +regards eclipses, comets, magic, and divination; and laid down +canons of historical criticism which would exclude many of the +most cherished traditions of his country and his Church. +The best edition of his works is that by Campomanes, the minister +of the enlightened Charles III., with a Life of the author. +16 vols. Madrid, 1778.</p> +<p><a name="footnote80"></a><a href="#citation80" +class="footnote">[80]</a> Charles III. of Spain +(1759–1788), the most enlightened of the Bourbon kings.</p> +<p><a name="footnote82"></a><a href="#citation82" +class="footnote">[82]</a> Literally, <i>dry</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote92"></a><a href="#citation92" +class="footnote">[92]</a> George Dawson Flinter began life +in an English West India regiment, served in the Spanish American +forces, and afterwards obtained a commission in the Spanish +army. In 1833, on the outbreak of the civil war, he +declared for Isabella, and served with considerable distinction +in the constitutional army. A prisoner in 1836, he was +entrusted with a high command at Toledo in 1837, but having +failed to satisfy the Cortes in an engagement in September, 1838, +he cut his throat (see <i>Gentl. Mag.</i>, 1838, vol. ii. p. 553, +and Duncan, <i>The English in Spain</i>, pp. 13, 189).</p> +<p><a name="footnote98"></a><a href="#citation98" +class="footnote">[98]</a> There is still a fairly +frequented high-road from Santander to Burgos, inasmuch as the +railway from Santander to Madrid takes a more westerly route +through Palencia, the actual junction with the main line from +Irun being at Venta de Baños, a new creation of the +railway not even mentioned in the guidebooks a few years ago, and +now one of the most important stations in Spain.</p> +<p>Yet in railway matters Spain has still some progress to +make. From Santander to Burgos <i>viâ</i> Venta de +Baños is just 120 English miles; but the time occupied in +the journey by train in this year 1895 is just seventeen hours, +the traveller having to leave Santander at 1 p.m. in order to +reach Burgos at 6 o’clock the following morning!</p> +<p><a name="footnote100"></a><a href="#citation100" +class="footnote">[100]</a> See Introduction.</p> +<p><a name="footnote101"></a><a href="#citation101" +class="footnote">[101]</a> “<i>Office of the Biblical +and Foreign Society</i>,” rather an odd rendering of the +original title!</p> +<p><a name="footnote103a"></a><a href="#citation103a" +class="footnote">[103a]</a> The briefest of all +abbreviations and modifications of the objectionable +<i>Carajo</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote103b"></a><a href="#citation103b" +class="footnote">[103b]</a> Rather south-south-west.</p> +<p><a name="footnote104"></a><a href="#citation104" +class="footnote">[104]</a> Domenico Theotocoupoulis, a +Greek or Byzantine who settled at Toledo in 1577. He is +said to have been a pupil of Titian. The picture so highly +praised in the text is said by Professor Justi to be in +“his worst manner,” and is indeed a very stiff +performance. There are many of <i>El Greco’s</i> +pictures in Italy, where his work is often assigned to Bassano, +Paul Veronese, and Titian. His acknowledged masterpiece is +the Christ on Mount Calvary in the cathedral of Toledo. +<i>El Greco</i> died in 1625, after an uninterrupted residence of +nearly forty years in Spain.</p> +<p><a name="footnote107"></a><a href="#citation107" +class="footnote">[107]</a> See <i>The Zincali</i>, part. +ii. chap. vi.</p> +<p><a name="footnote111a"></a><a href="#citation111a" +class="footnote">[111a]</a> Borrow’s translation of +St. Luke into Spanish gypsy was published with the following +title: <i>Embéo e Majaró Lucas</i>. +<i>Brotoboro randado andré la chipe griega</i>, +<i>acána chibado andré o Romanó ó +chipe es Zincales de Sesé</i>. (No place) +1837. A new edition was published five and thirty years +later by the British and Foreign Bible Society, as <i>Criscote e +Majaró Lucas chibado andré o Romano ó chipe +es Zincales de Sesé</i>. Lundra, 1872. Both +these works are now out of print, but I have had the advantage of +seeing a copy of each in the library of the Society in Queen +Victoria Street.</p> +<p><a name="footnote111b"></a><a href="#citation111b" +class="footnote">[111b]</a> <i>The Zincali</i>, part ii. +ch. viii.</p> +<p><a name="footnote114"></a><a href="#citation114" +class="footnote">[114]</a> Modern linguistic science is so +entirely at variance with these theories that it is difficult to +add a note at once modest, instructive, or of reasonable +length. On the whole it is perhaps better to leave the +chapter entirely alone.</p> +<p><a name="footnote116a"></a><a href="#citation116a" +class="footnote">[116a]</a> See the Glossary.</p> +<p><a name="footnote116b"></a><a href="#citation116b" +class="footnote">[116b]</a> <i>Evangelioa San Lucasen +Guissan</i>. <i>El Evangelio Segun S. Lucas</i>. +<i>Traducido al vascuence</i>. <i>Madrid</i>: <i>Imprenta +de la Compañia Tipografica</i>. 1838.</p> +<p><a name="footnote117"></a><a href="#citation117" +class="footnote">[117]</a> See <i>Proverbes Basques suivis +des Poésies Basques</i>, by Arnauld Oihenart, 1847.</p> +<p><a name="footnote118a"></a><a href="#citation118a" +class="footnote">[118a]</a> See F. Michel, <i>Le Pays +Basque</i>, p. 213, and the Glossary, <i>s.v.</i> <span +class="smcap">Ichasoa</span>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote118b"></a><a href="#citation118b" +class="footnote">[118b]</a> No one who has ever read the +work of this <i>Abbé</i> would ever think of citing it as +a serious authority. It is entitled, <i>L’histoire +des Cantabres par l’Abbé d’Iharce de +Bidassouet</i>. Paris, 1825. Basque, according to the +author, was the primæval language; <i>Noah</i> being still +the Basque for <i>wine</i> is an etymological record of the +patriarch’s unhappy inebriety!</p> +<p><a name="footnote118c"></a><a href="#citation118c" +class="footnote">[118c]</a> This work is entitled, +<i>Euscaldun anciña anciñaco</i>, <i>etc.</i> +<i>Donostian</i>, 1826, by Juan Ignacio de Iztueta, with an +Introduction in Spanish, and many Basque songs with musical +notation, but without accompaniment.</p> +<p><a name="footnote120"></a><a href="#citation120" +class="footnote">[120]</a> See further as to the Basques, +Burke’s <i>History of Spain</i>, vol. i. App. I.</p> +<p><a name="footnote121a"></a><a href="#citation121a" +class="footnote">[121a]</a> 1838.</p> +<p><a name="footnote121b"></a><a href="#citation121b" +class="footnote">[121b]</a> See <i>ante</i>, p. 100, and +Introduction.</p> +<p><a name="footnote121c"></a><a href="#citation121c" +class="footnote">[121c]</a> Ofalia was prime minister from +November 30, 1837, to August, 1838, when he was succeeded by the +Duke of Frias.</p> +<p><a name="footnote127"></a><a href="#citation127" +class="footnote">[127]</a> The mayor or chief +magistrate. <i>Politico</i> is here used in the old sense +of civic, +πολιτικὸς, of +the πόλις; <i>gefe</i>, now spelt +<i>jefe</i> = chief.</p> +<p><a name="footnote129a"></a><a href="#citation129a" +class="footnote">[129a]</a> In <i>The Zincali</i>, part ii. +ch. iv., Borrow places his imprisonment in March.</p> +<p><a name="footnote129b"></a><a href="#citation129b" +class="footnote">[129b]</a> Rather <i>civic</i>; see note +on p. 127.</p> +<p><a name="footnote131"></a><a href="#citation131" +class="footnote">[131]</a> “The city +prison.” <i>La Corte</i> is the <i>capital</i>, as +well as the <i>court</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote133"></a><a href="#citation133" +class="footnote">[133]</a> “My master! the +constables, and the catchpolls, and all the other thieves . . . +”</p> +<p><a name="footnote134a"></a><a href="#citation134a" +class="footnote">[134a]</a> See the Glossary, <i>s.v.</i> +<span class="smcap">Jargon</span>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote134b"></a><a href="#citation134b" +class="footnote">[134b]</a> “He is very +skilful.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote136"></a><a href="#citation136" +class="footnote">[136]</a> “Are there no +more?”</p> +<p><a name="footnote141"></a><a href="#citation141" +class="footnote">[141]</a> More like the French <i>Juge +d’Instruction</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote143a"></a><a href="#citation143a" +class="footnote">[143a]</a> “Come along, Sir George; +to your house, to your lodgings!”</p> +<p><a name="footnote143b"></a><a href="#citation143b" +class="footnote">[143b]</a> Acts xvi. 37.</p> +<p><a name="footnote146"></a><a href="#citation146" +class="footnote">[146]</a> People of renown.</p> +<p><a name="footnote147a"></a><a href="#citation147a" +class="footnote">[147a]</a> “Mashes” and +mistresses. <i>Majo</i> is a word of more general +signification than <i>manolo</i>. The one is a dandy, or +smart fellow, all over Spain; the other is used only of a certain +class in Madrid.</p> +<p><a name="footnote147b"></a><a href="#citation147b" +class="footnote">[147b]</a> More correctly, +<i>Carabanchel</i> or <i>Carabancheles</i>, two villages a few +miles south of Madrid.</p> +<p><a name="footnote148"></a><a href="#citation148" +class="footnote">[148]</a> This in prison!</p> +<p><a name="footnote149"></a><a href="#citation149" +class="footnote">[149]</a> <i>E.g.</i> in the citadel of +Pampeluna. See <i>Journal of the Gypsy Lore Society</i>, i. +152.</p> +<p><a name="footnote152"></a><a href="#citation152" +class="footnote">[152]</a> Perhaps Waterloo.—[Note by +Borrow.]</p> +<p><a name="footnote154"></a><a href="#citation154" +class="footnote">[154]</a> “It distresses +me.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote155"></a><a href="#citation155" +class="footnote">[155]</a> Robbing the natives.</p> +<p><a name="footnote156"></a><a href="#citation156" +class="footnote">[156]</a> See chap. xiii.</p> +<p><a name="footnote164"></a><a href="#citation164" +class="footnote">[164]</a> The sun was setting, and Demos +commands. “Bring water, my children, that ye may eat +bread this evening.” Borrow has translated this song +in the <i>Targum </i>(<i>v.</i> p. 343).</p> +<p><a name="footnote165"></a><a href="#citation165" +class="footnote">[165]</a> The treasure-digger.</p> +<p><a name="footnote170"></a><a href="#citation170" +class="footnote">[170]</a> See <i>The Zincali</i>, part ii. +chap. iv.</p> +<p><a name="footnote171"></a><a href="#citation171" +class="footnote">[171]</a> The duke became prime minister +in August, 1838.</p> +<p><a name="footnote175"></a><a href="#citation175" +class="footnote">[175]</a> In Gams’ <i>Series +Episcoporum</i>, the standard authority on the subject, the +archiepiscopal see of Toledo is noted as <i>vacant</i> from 1836 +to 1847. Nor is any hint given of how the duties of the +office were performed. Don Antonio Perez Hirias figures +only as Bishop of Mallorca, or Majorca, from December, 1825, to +December, 1847.</p> +<p><a name="footnote178a"></a><a href="#citation178a" +class="footnote">[178a]</a> Kicks from behind.</p> +<p><a name="footnote178b"></a><a href="#citation178b" +class="footnote">[178b]</a> “I do not +know.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote179a"></a><a href="#citation179a" +class="footnote">[179a]</a> See note, p. 103.</p> +<p><a name="footnote179b"></a><a href="#citation179b" +class="footnote">[179b]</a> “To the gallows! To +the gallows!”</p> +<p><a name="footnote180a"></a><a href="#citation180a" +class="footnote">[180a]</a> “To the country! To +the country!”</p> +<p><a name="footnote180b"></a><a href="#citation180b" +class="footnote">[180b]</a> “Ride on, because of the +word of truth, of meekness, and righteousness” (Ps. xlv. 5, +P.B.V.).</p> +<p><a name="footnote188"></a><a href="#citation188" +class="footnote">[188]</a> A nickname, unhappily too +commonly justified in Southern Spain, where ophthalmia and +oculists are equally dangerous.</p> +<p>It is remarkable how many of the great men in Spanish history, +however, have been distinguished by this blemish: Hannibal, +Viriatus, Táric, Abdur Rahman I., and Don Juan el Tuerto +in the reign of Alfonso XI.</p> +<p><a name="footnote190"></a><a href="#citation190" +class="footnote">[190]</a> Byron, <i>Don Juan</i>, xiii. +11. Borrow probably knew well enough where the lines came +from. <i>Don Juan</i> had not been published more than +fifteen years at the time, and was in the zenith of its +popularity. But Byron and his ways were alike odious to the +rough manliness of Borrow (see <i>Lavengro</i>, ch. xxxix.), and, +in good truth, however much the poet “deserves to be +remembered,” it is certainly not for this line, which +contains as many <i>suggestiones falsi</i> as may be packed into +one line. Yet the “sneer” is not in the +original, but in Borrow’s misquotation; Byron wrote +“smiled.” The idea of the poet having spent a +handful of gold ounces in a Genoese posada at Seville and at a +bull-fight at Madrid, that he might be competent to tell the +world that Cervantes sneered Spain’s chivalry away, is +superlatively Borrovian—and delicious. The entire +passage runs thus—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Cervantes smiled Spain’s chivalry +away;<br /> + A single laugh demolish’d the right arm<br /> +Of his own country;—seldom since that day<br /> + Has Spain had heroes.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="footnote192"></a><a href="#citation192" +class="footnote">[192]</a> About thirty pounds, at the +exchange of the day.</p> +<p><a name="footnote195a"></a><a href="#citation195a" +class="footnote">[195a]</a> “I wish to enlist with +you.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote195b"></a><a href="#citation195b" +class="footnote">[195b]</a> “<i>Gee up</i>, +donkey!” From this <i>arrhé</i>, of Arabic +origin, is derived the word <i>arriero</i>, a muleteer.</p> +<p><a name="footnote197"></a><a href="#citation197" +class="footnote">[197]</a> “Blessed be +God!”</p> +<p><a name="footnote198"></a><a href="#citation198" +class="footnote">[198]</a> See note, <i>ante</i>, p. +190.</p> +<p><a name="footnote201"></a><a href="#citation201" +class="footnote">[201]</a> See vol. i. p. 257.</p> +<p><a name="footnote202"></a><a href="#citation202" +class="footnote">[202]</a> Aranjuez, the Roman <i>Ara +Jovis</i>, was, until the absorption of the great military order +by the Crown under Isabella and Ferdinand, a favourite residence +of the Grand Masters of Santiago.</p> +<p><a name="footnote203"></a><a href="#citation203" +class="footnote">[203]</a> “Die schönen Tage in +Aranjuez<br /> +Sind nun zu Ende.”</p> +<p style="text-align: right">The opening lines of <i>Don +Carlos</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote204"></a><a href="#citation204" +class="footnote">[204]</a> An exceedingly ancient town, +celebrated in the days before the Roman dominion.</p> +<p><a name="footnote205"></a><a href="#citation205" +class="footnote">[205]</a> See Glossary, <i>sub. verb</i>. +<span class="smcap">Schophon</span>. As to rabbits in +Spain, see note, vol. i. p. 25.</p> +<p><a name="footnote208"></a><a href="#citation208" +class="footnote">[208]</a> The modern La Granja or San +Ildefonso is, in the season, anything but desolate: the +beautiful, if somewhat over-elaborate gardens, are admirably kept +up, and the general atmosphere of the plain is bright and +cheerful, though the Court of to-day prefers the sea-breezes of +Biscay to the air of the Guadarrama, when Madrid becomes, as it +does, well-nigh uninhabitable in summer.</p> +<p><a name="footnote211a"></a><a href="#citation211a" +class="footnote">[211a]</a> A particular scoundrel. +His massacre of prisoners, November 9, 1838, was remarkable for +its atrocity, when massacre was of daily occurrence. See +Duncan, <i>The English in Spain</i>, pp. 247, 248.</p> +<p><a name="footnote211b"></a><a href="#citation211b" +class="footnote">[211b]</a> See note, vol. i. p. 164.</p> +<p><a name="footnote213"></a><a href="#citation213" +class="footnote">[213]</a> August 31, 1838.</p> +<p><a name="footnote215"></a><a href="#citation215" +class="footnote">[215]</a> Don Carlos, who probably died a +natural death in 1568.</p> +<p><a name="footnote217"></a><a href="#citation217" +class="footnote">[217]</a> The etymology of Andalusia is +somewhat of a <i>crux</i>; the various authorities are collected +and reviewed in an appendix to Burke’s <i>History of +Spain</i>, vol. i. p. 379. The true etymology may be +Vandalusia, the abiding-place of the Vandals, though they abode +in Southern Spain but a very short time; but the word certainly +came into the Spanish through the Arabic, and not through the +Latin, long years after Latin was a spoken language. The +young lady was quite right in speaking of it as <i>Betica</i> or +<i>Bœtica</i>; though the <i>Terra</i> would be +superfluous, if not incorrect.</p> +<p><a name="footnote218"></a><a href="#citation218" +class="footnote">[218]</a> He had succeeded to that title +on the death of his uncle, December 22, 1838.</p> +<p><a name="footnote219"></a><a href="#citation219" +class="footnote">[219]</a> <i>I.e.</i> “My Lord the +Sustainer of the Kingdom.” See preface to <i>The +Zincali</i>, second edition.</p> +<p><a name="footnote221a"></a><a href="#citation221a" +class="footnote">[221a]</a> <i>Tio</i>. A common +method of address, conveying no reference to real +relationship. So the Boers in South Africa speak of +“Oom (uncle) Paul.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote221b"></a><a href="#citation221b" +class="footnote">[221b]</a> “What beautiful, what +charming reading!”</p> +<p><a name="footnote223"></a><a href="#citation223" +class="footnote">[223]</a> <i>No hay otro en el +mundo</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote224a"></a><a href="#citation224a" +class="footnote">[224a]</a> See note on p. 147.</p> +<p><a name="footnote224b"></a><a href="#citation224b" +class="footnote">[224b]</a> Κατὰ +τὸν τόπον +καὶ ὁ +τρόπος, as Antonio +said.—[Note by Borrow]. <i>I.e.</i> “As +is the place, such is the character (of the people).”</p> +<p><a name="footnote225"></a><a href="#citation225" +class="footnote">[225]</a> Alcalá de Henares. +See note, vol. i. p. 223.</p> +<p><a name="footnote228a"></a><a href="#citation228a" +class="footnote">[228a]</a> “Good night!”</p> +<p><a name="footnote228b"></a><a href="#citation228b" +class="footnote">[228b]</a> “Good night to +you!”</p> +<p><a name="footnote234"></a><a href="#citation234" +class="footnote">[234]</a> Or <i>Nevski</i> = of the Neva; +as we have a Thames Street.</p> +<p><a name="footnote236"></a><a href="#citation236" +class="footnote">[236]</a> Spanish, <i>duende</i>. +See p. 238. Oddly enough in <i>Germanía</i>, or +thieves’ slang, <i>duende</i> = <i>ronda</i>, a night +patrol.</p> +<p><a name="footnote237"></a><a href="#citation237" +class="footnote">[237]</a> Madrid is not a city or +<i>ciudad</i>, but only the chief of <i>villas</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote240"></a><a href="#citation240" +class="footnote">[240]</a> In Romany, <i>Chuquel sos pirela +cocal terela</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote242a"></a><a href="#citation242a" +class="footnote">[242a]</a> <i>El Nuevo Testamento +Traducido al Español de la Vulgata Latino por el Rmo. P. +Phelipe Scio de S. Miguel de las Escuelas Pias Obispo Electo de +Segovia</i>. <i>Madrid</i>. <i>Imprenta á +cargo de D. Joaquin de la Barrera</i>. 1837.</p> +<p><a name="footnote242b"></a><a href="#citation242b" +class="footnote">[242b]</a> The church of San Gines is in +the Calle del Arenal; the chapel of Santa Cruz in the Concepcion +Jerónima.</p> +<p><a name="footnote246"></a><a href="#citation246" +class="footnote">[246]</a> This is a curious slip; the +spelling is found in the first and all subsequent editions. +The true name of the defile—it is between Velez el Rubio +and Lorca—is, as might be supposed, <i>La Rambla</i>, but +the narrowest part of the pass is known as the <i>Puerto de +Lumbreras</i> (the Pass of Illumination), and from <i>Rambla</i> +and <i>Lumbrera</i> Borrow or the printer of 1843 evolved the +strange compound <i>Rumblar</i>!</p> +<p><a name="footnote248"></a><a href="#citation248" +class="footnote">[248]</a> This would naturally mean, +“Most reverend sir, art thou still saying, or, dost thou +still say Mass?” which seems somewhat irrelevant. +Possibly what “the prophetess” meant to ask was, +“Most reverend sir, hast thou yet said Mass?”</p> +<p><a name="footnote251a"></a><a href="#citation251a" +class="footnote">[251a]</a> “Knowest thou the land +where the lemon-trees bloom?” The song of Mignon in +Goethe’s <i>Wilhelm Meister</i>, introduced in the opera of +<i>Faust</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote251b"></a><a href="#citation251b" +class="footnote">[251b]</a> See note, vol. i. p. 216.</p> +<p><a name="footnote256"></a><a href="#citation256" +class="footnote">[256]</a> Born at Amalfi, 1623, a simple +fisherman. He headed the rebellion of the Neapolitans +against the Spanish viceroy, in 1647. His success as a +leader led to a revulsion of popular feeling, and he was executed +or murdered within a few days of his greatest triumph.</p> +<p><a name="footnote261"></a><a href="#citation261" +class="footnote">[261]</a> Chiefly in their pronunciation +of the characteristic G and Z of the Castilian as S instead of +TH. The South-American Spaniards, so largely recruited from +Andalusia, maintain the same sibilation, which is about as +offensive to a true Castilian as the dropping of an H is to an +educated Englishman.</p> +<p><a name="footnote262"></a><a href="#citation262" +class="footnote">[262]</a> Safacoro is the Romany name for +Seville; and Len Baro for the great river, <i>arabicé</i> +Wady al Kebir, the Guadalquivir. See Glossary.</p> +<p><a name="footnote263"></a><a href="#citation263" +class="footnote">[263]</a> For further information about +Manuel and Luis Lobo, who compiled a manuscript collection of the +pseudo-gypsy writings of <i>los del aficion</i>, or those +addicted to the <i>Gitanos</i> and their language, see <i>The +Zincali</i>, part iii. chap. ii.</p> +<p><a name="footnote264a"></a><a href="#citation264a" +class="footnote">[264a]</a> +Κύριε, voc. of +κύριος, the usual mode of +address, “sir.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote264b"></a><a href="#citation264b" +class="footnote">[264b]</a> The name of a famous family of +Dutch printers (1594–1680).</p> +<p><a name="footnote266"></a><a href="#citation266" +class="footnote">[266]</a> Priests. Greek, +παπᾶς; not Spanish, in which language +<i>Papa</i> means the Pope (of Rome).</p> +<p><a name="footnote267"></a><a href="#citation267" +class="footnote">[267]</a> +Τίποτε = nothing at all.</p> +<p><a name="footnote273"></a><a href="#citation273" +class="footnote">[273]</a> The secondary signification of +“prosperity” or “good fortune” is more +familiar to English ears; the word having come to us by way of +the Spanish, American, and Californian mining camps.</p> +<p><a name="footnote274"></a><a href="#citation274" +class="footnote">[274]</a> “The Illustrious +Scullion.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote282"></a><a href="#citation282" +class="footnote">[282]</a> Lit. a butterfly.</p> +<p><a name="footnote288"></a><a href="#citation288" +class="footnote">[288]</a> This was Mr. John +Brackenbury.</p> +<p><a name="footnote292a"></a><a href="#citation292a" +class="footnote">[292a]</a> The great Danish poet, born in +1779, died 1850; see <i>ante</i>, note, vol. i. p. 29.</p> +<p><a name="footnote292b"></a><a href="#citation292b" +class="footnote">[292b]</a> October 21, 1805.</p> +<p><a name="footnote293a"></a><a href="#citation293a" +class="footnote">[293a]</a> It is an American in our own +day, Captain Mahan, U.S.N., who has called attention, in his +masterly <i>influence of Sea Power upon History</i>, to the +transcendent importance of the battle of Trafalgar, hardly +realized by the most patriotic Englishman, who had well-nigh +forgotten Trafalgar in celebrating the more attractive glories of +Waterloo.</p> +<p><a name="footnote293b"></a><a href="#citation293b" +class="footnote">[293b]</a> Storm of east wind; wind from +the Levant.</p> +<p><a name="footnote293c"></a><a href="#citation293c" +class="footnote">[293c]</a> I.e. <i>Kafirs</i>, the Arabic +term of reproach, signifying an unbeliever; one who is <i>not a +Moslem</i>!</p> +<p><a name="footnote294"></a><a href="#citation294" +class="footnote">[294]</a> The title formally granted to +this Alonzo Perez de Guzman, under the sign-manual of King Sancho +the Bravo, was that of “The Good.” His son was +not crucified, but stabbed to death by the Infante Don John, with +the knife that had been flung over the battlements of the city by +the poor lad’s father, <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 1294 +(see <i>Documentos Ineditos para la Historia de +España</i>, tom. xxxix. pp. 1–397).</p> +<p><a name="footnote295"></a><a href="#citation295" +class="footnote">[295]</a> Rather of Muza, the +commander-in-chief of the army that conquered Gothic Spain in +711. Tarifa similarly perpetuates the memory of one of his +lieutenants, Tárif; and Gibraltar is Gibil Tarik, after +Tarik, his second in command (see Burke’s <i>History of +Spain</i>, vol. i. pp. 110–120).</p> +<p><a name="footnote296a"></a><a href="#citation296a" +class="footnote">[296a]</a> The hill of the baboons.</p> +<p><a name="footnote296b"></a><a href="#citation296b" +class="footnote">[296b]</a> Rather, “The +Island;” <i>Al Jezirah</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote298"></a><a href="#citation298" +class="footnote">[298]</a> According to Don Pascual de +Gayangos, Thursday, April 30, 711.</p> +<p><a name="footnote301"></a><a href="#citation301" +class="footnote">[301]</a> In more modern slang, “a +rock scorpion.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote302"></a><a href="#citation302" +class="footnote">[302]</a> Του +λόγου σας, +a polite locution in modern Greek, signifying “you,” +“your good self, <i>or</i>, selves.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote307"></a><a href="#citation307" +class="footnote">[307]</a> More correctly, the +<i>Preobazhenski</i>, <i>Semeonovski</i>, and <i>Findlandski +polks</i>. The first is a very crack regiment, and was +formed by Peter the Great in 1682. In 1692 it took part in +the capture of Azov (Toll, “Nastolny Slovar,” +<i>Encyclop.</i> tom. iii.).</p> +<p><a name="footnote309"></a><a href="#citation309" +class="footnote">[309]</a> This would have been General Sir +A. Woodford, K.C.B., G.C.M.G.</p> +<p><a name="footnote310"></a><a href="#citation310" +class="footnote">[310]</a> “A holy man this, from the +kingdoms of the East.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote311"></a><a href="#citation311" +class="footnote">[311]</a> A street in West Hamburg, near +the port and the notorious <i>Heiligegeist</i>, frequented by a +low class of Jews and seafaring men.</p> +<p><a name="footnote312a"></a><a href="#citation312a" +class="footnote">[312a]</a> The living waters.</p> +<p><a name="footnote312b"></a><a href="#citation312b" +class="footnote">[312b]</a> Into the hands of some one +else—<i>manû alicujus</i>. <i>Peluni</i> is the +Fulaneh of the Arabs, the Don Fulano of the Spaniards; Mr. +So-and-So; Monsieur Chose.</p> +<p><a name="footnote314"></a><a href="#citation314" +class="footnote">[314]</a> <i>I.e.</i> “The Hill of +the English,” near Vitoria. Here, in the year 1367, +Don Tello, with a force of six thousand knights, cut to pieces a +body of four hundred men-at-arms and archers, under the command +of Sir Thomas Felton, Seneschal of Guienne, and his brother Sir +William. See Froissart, i. chap. 239; Ayala, <i>Cronicas de +los Reyes de Castilla</i>, i. p. 446; Mérimée, +<i>Histoire de Don Pèdre Ier</i>, p. 486.</p> +<p><a name="footnote316"></a><a href="#citation316" +class="footnote">[316]</a> The popular name for +<i>Etna</i>—an etymology most suggestive, <i>Mons</i> +(Latin) and <i>gibil</i> (Arabic) each signifying “a +mountain.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote318"></a><a href="#citation318" +class="footnote">[318]</a> The book Zohar (Hebrew, +“Brilliancy”) is, next to the canonical Scripture, +one of the ablest books in Hebrew literature, having been written +by the Rabbi Simeon bar Jochaï, “The Great +Light” and “Spark of Moses,” early in the +second century of our era. The mysteries contained in the +Zohar are said to have been communicated to Jochaï during +his twelve years’ seclusion in a cave; and they are +specially revered by a sect of modern Jews known as Zoharites, or +Sabbathians, from their founder Sabbataï Zevi, who was born +at Smyrna in 1625, and claimed to be the true Messiah, but who, +to save himself from death as an impostor, embraced the faith of +Islám at Adrianople, and died a Moslem in 1676. Yet +a hundred years later another Zoharite pretender, Jankiev +Lejbovicz, who acquired the name of Jacob Frank, of Offenbach, +near Frankfort, and died only in 1792, made himself famous in +Germany. The Zoharites were Cabalistic, as opposed to +Talmudic, in their theology or theosophy, and in later times have +claimed to have much in common with Christianity.—See M. J. +Mayers (of Yarmouth), <i>A Brief Account of the Zoharite Jews</i> +(Cambridge, 1826); and Graetz, <i>History of the Jews</i>, vol. +v. pp. 125, 289.</p> +<p><a name="footnote322"></a><a href="#citation322" +class="footnote">[322]</a> Rabat.</p> +<p><a name="footnote330"></a><a href="#citation330" +class="footnote">[330]</a> 1 Kings xix. 11–13.</p> +<p><a name="footnote337"></a><a href="#citation337" +class="footnote">[337]</a> <i>On</i> as a termination is +usually indicative of size without admiration, bigness rather +than greatness, as in the Italian <i>one</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote343a"></a><a href="#citation343a" +class="footnote">[343a]</a> The tomato was hardly known in +England in 1839, and was not common for forty years after, so +Borrow may be excused for giving the word in its Spanish +form. The plant was introduced into Spain from Peru in the +sixteenth century.</p> +<p><a name="footnote343b"></a><a href="#citation343b" +class="footnote">[343b]</a> “Lord of the +World.” <i>Adun</i> or <i>Adon</i> is the well-known +Hebrew word for Lord, and is said to be the origin of the Spanish +title <i>Don</i>. <i>Oulem</i> is the Arab +‘<i>Olam</i>. The following lines are the first poem +in the <i>Targum</i>, a collection of translations by Borrow from +thirty languages, printed at St. Petersburg in 1835:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Reigned the universe’s Master, ere +were earthly things begun:<br /> +When his mandate all created Ruler was the name he won;<br /> +And alone he’ll rule tremendous when all things are past +and gone,<br /> +He no equal has, nor consort, he, the singular and lone,<br /> +Has no end and no beginning; his the sceptre, might and +throne.<br /> +He’s my God and living Saviour, rock to whom in need I +run;<br /> +He’s my banner and my refuge, fount of weal when called +upon;<br /> +In his hand I place my spirit at nightfall and rise of sun,<br /> +And therewith my body also; God’s my God—I fear no +one.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="footnote348"></a><a href="#citation348" +class="footnote">[348]</a> In 1684, on the familiar +official plea of “economy.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote349"></a><a href="#citation349" +class="footnote">[349]</a> “Good morning, O my +lord.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote351"></a><a href="#citation351" +class="footnote">[351]</a> “There is no God but +one.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote354"></a><a href="#citation354" +class="footnote">[354]</a> “Buy here, buy +here.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote357a"></a><a href="#citation357a" +class="footnote">[357a]</a> This youth followed Borrow to +England, where he was introduced to Mr. Petulengro as a +<i>pal</i>, but rejected by him as “no Roman.” +See <i>The Zincali</i>, Preface to Second Edition.</p> +<p><a name="footnote357b"></a><a href="#citation357b" +class="footnote">[357b]</a> “Hail, Mary, full of +grace, pray for me.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote357c"></a><a href="#citation357c" +class="footnote">[357c]</a> “Remove the faithless +race from the borders of the believers, that we may gladly pay +due praises to Christ.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote359"></a><a href="#citation359" +class="footnote">[359]</a> This has been already alluded to +as regards Southern Spain.</p> +<p><a name="footnote360"></a><a href="#citation360" +class="footnote">[360]</a> Algiers.</p> +<p><a name="footnote361"></a><a href="#citation361" +class="footnote">[361]</a> Essence of white flowers. +The Arabic <i>attar</i> = essence is well known in combination as +<i>otto</i> or <i>attar</i> of roses. <i>Nuar</i> is a form +of <i>Nawār</i> = flowers.</p> +<p><a name="footnote362"></a><a href="#citation362" +class="footnote">[362]</a> This was still market-day in +1892.</p> +<p><a name="footnote364"></a><a href="#citation364" +class="footnote">[364]</a> Nowhere has the destruction of +locusts been undertaken in a more systematic manner, or carried +to greater perfection than in the island of Cyprus, where a +special tax is levied by the British Government to defray the +expenses of what is called “the war.” The +system is the invention of a Cypriote gentleman, Mr. Mattei.</p> +<p><a name="footnote365"></a><a href="#citation365" +class="footnote">[365]</a> More commonly known as the +prickly pear (<i>Opuntia vulgaris</i>).</p> +<p><a name="footnote367a"></a><a href="#citation367a" +class="footnote">[367a]</a> The house of the trades +[Borrow], or rather “of the handicrafts.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote367b"></a><a href="#citation367b" +class="footnote">[367b]</a> Seashore. See the +Glossary.</p> +<p><a name="footnote372"></a><a href="#citation372" +class="footnote">[372]</a> Friday.</p> +<p><a name="footnote375"></a><a href="#citation375" +class="footnote">[375]</a> The etymology of Granada is +doubtful. Before the invasion of Spain by the Arabs, a +small town of Phœnician origin, known as Karnattah, existed +near Illiberis (Elvira), and probably on the site of the more +modern city of Granada. The syllable <i>Kar</i> would, in +Phœnician, signify “a town.” The meaning +of <i>nattah</i> is unknown (Gayangos, i. 347; Casiri, <i>Bib. +Ar. Hisp. Esc.</i>, ii. 251; Conde, <i>Hist. Dom.</i>, i. pp. +37–51). The supposition that the city owes its name +to its resemblance to a ripe pomegranate (<i>granada</i>) is +clearly inadmissible. As in the case of Leon, the device +was adopted in consequence of its appropriateness to an existing +name—although the modern city of Granada is probably not +older than 1020. The Arabic word, moreover, for a +pomegranate is <i>romàn</i>; and Soto de Roma, the name of +the Duke of Wellington’s estate in Andalusia, means +“the wood of the pomegranates;” and an <i>ensalada +romana</i> is not a Roman, but a pomegranate salad (see Pedaza, +<i>Hist. Eccl. de Granada</i> [1618], fol. 21, 22; Romey, +<i>Hist.</i>, i. 474, 475).—Burke’s <i>Hist. of +Spain</i>, vol. i. p. 116.</p> +<p><a name="footnote376a"></a><a href="#citation376a" +class="footnote">[376a]</a> The most powerful, or the most +respected, man in Tangier. Power and respect are usually +enjoyed by the same individual in the East.</p> +<p><a name="footnote376b"></a><a href="#citation376b" +class="footnote">[376b]</a> “It does not +signify.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote378"></a><a href="#citation378" +class="footnote">[378]</a> See note, vol. i. p. 240.</p> +<p><a name="footnote382"></a><a href="#citation382" +class="footnote">[382]</a> “Algerine,<br /> +Moor so keen,<br /> +No drink wine,<br /> +No taste swine.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote383a"></a><a href="#citation383a" +class="footnote">[383a]</a> “That is not +lawful.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote383b"></a><a href="#citation383b" +class="footnote">[383b]</a> “Everything is +lawful.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote383c"></a><a href="#citation383c" +class="footnote">[383c]</a> “Hail, star of the sea, +benign Mother of God, and for ever virgin, blessed gate of +heaven.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote395"></a><a href="#citation395" +class="footnote">[395]</a> Andalusian for <i>ciego</i>.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BIBLE IN SPAIN - VOL. 2 [OF 2]***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 35676-h.htm or 35676-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/5/6/7/35676 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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