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diff --git a/35676-h/35676-h.htm b/35676-h/35676-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fb5bd09 --- /dev/null +++ b/35676-h/35676-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,16256 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>The Bible in Spain - Vol. 2 [of 2], by George Borrow</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + P.gutsumm { margin-left: 5%;} + P.poetry {margin-left: 3%; } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4, H5 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + table { border-collapse: collapse; } +table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto;} + td { vertical-align: top; border: 1px solid black;} + td p { margin: 0.2em; } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-weight: normal; + color: gray; + } + img { border: none; } + img.dc { float: left; width: 50px; height: 50px; } + div.gapspace { height: 0.8em; } + div.gapline { height: 0.8em; width: 30%; } + div.gapshortdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; + margin-left: 40%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid; } + div.gapdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 50%; + margin-left: 25%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; margin-left:40%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + .citation {vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + img.floatleft { float: left; + margin-right: 1em; + margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.floatright { float: right; + margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.clearcenter {display: block; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em} + --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<pre> + +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: 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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