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The Bible in Spain



The Bible in Spain, by George Borrow



January, 1996 [Etext #415]





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The Bible In Spain - George Borrow - Scanned and Proofed

by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk  Notes for proofers

are available.









THE BIBLE IN SPAIN - GEORGE BORROW









AUTHOR'S PREFACE







It is very seldom that the preface of a work is read;

indeed, of late years, most books have been sent into the world

without any.  I deem it, however, advisable to write a preface,

and to this I humbly call the attention of the courteous

reader, as its perusal will not a little tend to the proper

understanding and appreciation of these volumes.



The work now offered to the public, and which is styled

THE BIBLE IN SPAIN, consists of a narrative of what occurred to

me during a residence in that country, to which I was sent by

the Bible Society, as its agent for the purpose of printing and

circulating the Scriptures.  It comprehends, however, certain

journeys and adventures in Portugal, and leaves me at last in

"the land of the Corahai," to which region, after having

undergone considerable buffeting in Spain, I found it expedient

to retire for a season.



It is very probable that had I visited Spain from mere

curiosity, or with a view of passing a year or two agreeably, I

should never have attempted to give any detailed account of my

proceedings, or of what I heard and saw.  I am no tourist, no

writer of books of travels; but I went there on a somewhat

remarkable errand, which necessarily led me into strange

situations and positions, involved me in difficulties and

perplexities, and brought me into contact with people of all

descriptions and grades; so that, upon the whole, I flatter

myself that a narrative of such a pilgrimage may not be wholly

uninteresting to the public, more especially as the subject is

not trite; for though various books have been published about

Spain, I believe that the present is the only one in existence

which treats of missionary labour in that country.



Many things, it is true, will be found in the following

volume which have little connexion with religion or religious

enterprise; I offer, however, no apology for introducing them.

I was, as I may say, from first to last adrift in Spain, the

land of old renown, the land of wonder and mystery, with better

opportunities of becoming acquainted with its strange secrets

and peculiarities than perhaps ever yet were afforded to any

individual, certainly to a foreigner; and if in many instances

I have introduced scenes and characters perhaps unprecedented

in a work of this description, I have only to observe, that,

during my sojourn in Spain, I was so unavoidably mixed up with

such, that I could scarcely have given a faithful narrative of

what befell me had I not brought them forward in the manner

which I have done.



It is worthy of remark that, called suddenly and

unexpectedly "to undertake the adventure of Spain," I was not

altogether unprepared for such an enterprise.  In the daydreams

of my boyhood, Spain always bore a considerable share, and I

took a particular interest in her, without any presentiment

that I should at a future time be called upon to take a part,

however humble, in her strange dramas; which interest, at a

very early period, led me to acquire her noble language, and to

make myself acquainted with her literature (scarcely worthy of

the language), her history and traditions; so that when I

entered Spain for the first time I felt more at home than I

should otherwise have done.



In Spain I passed five years, which, if not the most

eventful, were, I have no hesitation in saying, the most happy

years of my existence.  Of Spain, at the present time, now that

the daydream has vanished, never, alas! to return, I entertain

the warmest admiration: she is the most magnificent country in

the world, probably the most fertile, and certainly with the

finest climate.  Whether her children are worthy of their

mother, is another question, which I shall not attempt to

answer; but content myself with observing, that, amongst much

that is lamentable and reprehensible, I have found much that is

noble and to be admired; much stern heroic virtue; much savage

and horrible crime; of low vulgar vice very little, at least

amongst the great body of the Spanish nation, with which my

mission lay; for it will be as well here to observe, that I

advance no claim to an intimate acquaintance with the Spanish

nobility, from whom I kept as remote as circumstances would

permit me; EN REVANCHE, however, I have had the honour to live

on familiar terms with the peasants, shepherds, and muleteers

of Spain, whose bread and bacalao I have eaten; who always

treated me with kindness and courtesy, and to whom I have not

unfrequently been indebted for shelter and protection.





"The generous bearing of Francisco Gonzales, and the high

deeds of Ruy Diaz the Cid, are still sung amongst the

fastnesses of the Sierra Morena." (1)



(1) "Om Frands Gonzales, og Rodrik Cid.

End siunges i Sierra Murene!"

KRONIKE RIIM.  By Severin Grundtvig.  Copenhagen, 1829.





I believe that no stronger argument can be brought

forward in proof of the natural vigour and resources of Spain,

and the sterling character of her population, than the fact

that, at the present day, she is still a powerful and

unexhausted country, and her children still, to a certain

extent, a high-minded and great people.  Yes, notwithstanding

the misrule of the brutal and sensual Austrian, the doting

Bourbon, and, above all, the spiritual tyranny of the court of

Rome, Spain can still maintain her own, fight her own combat,

and Spaniards are not yet fanatic slaves and crouching beggars.

This is saying much, very much: she has undergone far more than

Naples had ever to bear, and yet the fate of Naples has not

been hers.  There is still valour in Astruria; generosity in

Aragon; probity in Old Castile; and the peasant women of La

Mancha can still afford to place a silver fork and a snowy

napkin beside the plate of their guest.  Yes, in spite of

Austrian, Bourbon, and Rome, there is still a wide gulf between

Spain and Naples.



Strange as it may sound, Spain is not a fanatic country.

I know something about her, and declare that she is not, nor

has ever been; Spain never changes.  It is true that, for

nearly two centuries, she was the she-butcher, LA VERDUGA, of

malignant Rome; the chosen instrument for carrying into effect

the atrocious projects of that power; yet fanaticism was not

the spring which impelled her to the work of butchery; another

feeling, in her the predominant one, was worked upon - her

fatal pride.  It was by humouring her pride that she was

induced to waste her precious blood and treasure in the Low

Country wars, to launch the Armada, and to many other equally

insane actions.  Love of Rome had ever slight influence over

her policy; but flattered by the title of Gonfaloniera of the

Vicar of Jesus, and eager to prove herself not unworthy of the

same, she shut her eyes and rushed upon her own destruction

with the cry of "Charge, Spain."



But the arms of Spain became powerless abroad, and she

retired within herself.  She ceased to be the tool of the

vengeance and cruelty of Rome.  She was not cast aside,

however.  No! though she could no longer wield the sword with

success against the Lutherans, she might still be turned to

some account.  She had still gold and silver, and she was still

the land of the vine and olive.  Ceasing to be the butcher, she

became the banker of Rome; and the poor Spaniards, who always

esteem it a privilege to pay another person's reckoning, were

for a long time happy in being permitted to minister to the

grasping cupidity of Rome, who during the last century,

probably extracted from Spain more treasure than from all the

rest of Christendom.



But wars came into the land.  Napoleon and his fierce

Franks invaded Spain; plunder and devastation ensued, the

effects of which will probably be felt for ages.  Spain could

no longer pay pence to Peter so freely as of yore, and from

that period she became contemptible in the eyes of Rome, who

has no respect for a nation, save so far as it can minister to

her cruelty or avarice.  The Spaniard was still willing to pay,

as far as his means would allow, but he was soon given to

understand that he was a degraded being, - a barbarian; nay, a

beggar.  Now, you may draw the last cuarto from a Spaniard,

provided you will concede to him the title of cavalier, and

rich man, for the old leaven still works as powerfully as in

the time of the first Philip; but you must never hint that he

is poor, or that his blood is inferior to your own.  And the

old peasant, on being informed in what slight estimation he was

held, replied, "If I am a beast, a barbarian, and a beggar

withal, I am sorry for it; but as there is no remedy, I shall

spend these four bushels of barley, which I had reserved to

alleviate the misery of the holy father, in procuring bull

spectacles, and other convenient diversions, for the queen my

wife, and the young princes my children.  Beggar! carajo!  The

water of my village is better than the wine of Rome."



I see that in a late pastoral letter directed to the

Spaniards, the father of Rome complains bitterly of the

treatment which he has received in Spain at the hands of

naughty men.  "My cathedrals are let down," he says, "my

priests are insulted, and the revenues of my bishops are

curtailed."  He consoles himself, however, with the idea that

this is the effect of the malice of a few, and that the

generality of the nation love him, especially the peasantry,

the innocent peasantry, who shed tears when they think of the

sufferings of their pope and their religion.  Undeceive

yourself, Batuschca, undeceive yourself!  Spain was ready to

fight for you so long as she could increase her own glory by

doing so; but she took no pleasure in losing battle after

battle on your account.  She had no objection to pay money into

your coffers in the shape of alms, expecting, however, that the

same would be received with the gratitude and humility which

becomes those who accept charity.  Finding, however, that you

were neither humble nor grateful; suspecting, moreover, that

you held Austria in higher esteem than herself, even as a

banker, she shrugged up her shoulders, and uttered a sentence

somewhat similar to that which I have already put into the

mouth of one of her children, "These four bushels of barley,"

etc.



It is truly surprising what little interest the great

body of the Spanish nation took in the late struggle, and yet

it has been called, by some who ought to know better, a war of

religion and principle.  It was generally supposed that Biscay

was the stronghold of Carlism, and that the inhabitants were

fanatically attached to their religion, which they apprehended

was in danger.  The truth is, that the Basques cared nothing

for Carlos or Rome, and merely took up arms to defend certain

rights and privileges of their own.  For the dwarfish brother

of Ferdinand they always exhibited supreme contempt, which his

character, a compound of imbecility, cowardice, and cruelty,

well merited.  If they made use of his name, it was merely as a

CRI DE GUERRE.  Much the same may be said with respect to his

Spanish partisans, at least those who appeared in the field for

him.  These, however, were of a widely different character from

the Basques, who were brave soldiers and honest men.  The

Spanish armies of Don Carlos were composed entirely of thieves

and assassins, chiefly Valencians and Manchegans, who,

marshalled under two cut-throats, Cabrera and Palillos, took

advantage of the distracted state of the country to plunder and

massacre the honest part of the community.  With respect to the

Queen Regent Christina, of whom the less said the better, the

reins of government fell into her hands on the decease of her

husband, and with them the command of the soldiery.  The

respectable part of the Spanish nation, and more especially the

honourable and toilworn peasantry, loathed and execrated both

factions.  Oft when I was sharing at nightfall the frugal fare

of the villager of Old or New Castile, on hearing the distant

shot of the Christino soldier or Carlist bandit, he would

invoke curses on the heads of the two pretenders, not

forgetting the holy father and the goddess of Rome, Maria

Santissima.  Then, with the tiger energy of the Spaniard when

roused, he would start up and exclaim: "Vamos, Don Jorge, to

the plain, to the plain!  I wish to enlist with you, and to

learn the law of the English.  To the plain, therefore, to the

plain to-morrow, to circulate the gospel of Ingalaterra."



Amongst the peasantry of Spain I found my sturdiest

supporters: and yet the holy father supposes that the Spanish

labourers are friends and lovers of his.  Undeceive yourself,

Batuschca!



But to return to the present work: it is devoted to an

account of what befell me in Spain whilst engaged in

distributing the Scripture.  With respect to my poor labours, I

wish here to observe, that I accomplished but very little, and

that I lay claim to no brilliant successes and triumphs; indeed

I was sent into Spain more to explore the country, and to

ascertain how far the minds of the people were prepared to

receive the truths of Christianity, than for any other object;

I obtained, however, through the assistance of kind friends,

permission from the Spanish government to print an edition of

the sacred volume at Madrid, which I subsequently circulated in

that capital and in the provinces.



During my sojourn in Spain, there were others who wrought

good service in the Gospel cause, and of whose efforts it were

unjust to be silent in a work of this description.  Base is the

heart which would refuse merit its meed, and, however

insignificant may be the value of any eulogium which can flow

from a pen like mine, I cannot refrain from mentioning with

respect and esteem a few names connected with Gospel

enterprise.  A zealous Irish gentleman, of the name of Graydon,

exerted himself with indefatigable diligence in diffusing the

light of Scripture in the province of Catalonia, and along the

southern shores of Spain; whilst two missionaries from

Gibraltar, Messrs. Rule and Lyon, during one entire year,

preached Evangelic truth in a Church at Cadiz.  So much success

attended the efforts of these two last brave disciples of the

immortal Wesley, that there is every reason for supposing that,

had they not been silenced and eventually banished from the

country by the pseudo-liberal faction of the Moderados, not

only Cadiz, but the greater part of Andalusia, would by this

time have confessed the pure doctrines of the Gospel, and have

discarded for ever the last relics of popish superstition.



More immediately connected with the Bible Society and

myself, I am most happy to take this opportunity of speaking of

Luis de Usoz y Rio, the scion of an ancient and honourable

family of Old Castile, my coadjutor whilst editing the Spanish

New Testament at Madrid.  Throughout my residence in Spain, I

experienced every mark of friendship from this gentleman, who,

during the periods of my absence in the provinces, and my

numerous and long journeys, cheerfully supplied my place at

Madrid, and exerted himself to the utmost in forwarding the

views of the Bible Society, influenced by no other motive than

a hope that its efforts would eventually contribute to the

peace, happiness, and civilisation of his native land.



In conclusion, I beg leave to state that I am fully aware

of the various faults and inaccuracies of the present work.  It

is founded on certain journals which I kept during my stay in

Spain, and numerous letters written to my friends in England,

which they had subsequently the kindness to restore: the

greater part, however, consisting of descriptions of scenery,

sketches of character, etc., has been supplied from memory.  In

various instances I have omitted the names of places, which I

have either forgotten, or of whose orthography I am uncertain.

The work, as it at present exists, was written in a solitary

hamlet in a remote part of England, where I had neither books

to consult, nor friends of whose opinion or advice I could

occasionally avail myself, and under all the disadvantages

which arise from enfeebled health; I have, however, on a recent

occasion, experienced too much of the lenity and generosity of

the public, both of Britain and America, to shrink from again

exposing myself to its gaze, and trust that, if in the present

volumes it finds but little to admire, it will give me credit

for good spirit, and for setting down nought in malice.





Nov. 26, 1842.







CHAPTER I







Man Overboard - The Tagus - Foreign Languages - Gesticulation -

Streets of Lisbon - The Aqueduct - Bible tolerated in Portugal -

Cintra - Don Sebastian - John de Castro - Conversation with a Priest -

Colhares - Mafra - Its Palace - The Schoolmaster - The Portuguese -

Their Ignorance of Scripture - Rural Priesthood - The Alemtejo.





On the morning of the tenth of November, 1835, I found

myself off the coast of Galicia, whose lofty mountains, gilded

by the rising sun, presented a magnificent appearance.  I was

bound for Lisbon; we passed Cape Finisterre, and standing

farther out to sea, speedily lost sight of land.  On the

morning of the eleventh the sea was very rough, and a

remarkable circumstance occurred.  I was on the forecastle,

discoursing with two of the sailors: one of them, who had but

just left his hammock, said, "I have had a strange dream, which

I do not much like, for," continued he, pointing up to the

mast, "I dreamt that I fell into the sea from the cross-trees."

He was heard to say this by several of the crew besides myself.

A moment after, the captain of the vessel perceiving that the

squall was increasing, ordered the topsails to be taken in,

whereupon this man with several others instantly ran aloft; the

yard was in the act of being hauled down, when a sudden gust of

wind whirled it round with violence, and a man was struck down

from the cross-trees into the sea, which was working like yeast

below.  In a short time he emerged; I saw his head on the crest

of a billow, and instantly recognised in the unfortunate man

the sailor who a few moments before had related his dream.  I

shall never forget the look of agony he cast whilst the steamer

hurried past him.  The alarm was given, and everything was in

confusion; it was two minutes at least before the vessel was

stopped, by which time the man was a considerable way astern; I

still, however, kept my eye upon him, and could see that he was

struggling gallantly with the waves.  A boat was at length

lowered, but the rudder was unfortunately not at hand, and only

two oars could be procured, with which the men could make but

little progress in so rough a sea.  They did their best,

however, and had arrived within ten yards of the man, who still

struggled for his life, when I lost sight of him, and the men

on their return said that they saw him below the water, at

glimpses, sinking deeper and deeper, his arms stretched out and

his body apparently stiff, but that they found it impossible to

save him; presently after, the sea, as if satisfied with the

prey which it had acquired, became comparatively calm.  The

poor fellow who perished in this singular manner was a fine

young man of twenty-seven, the only son of a widowed mother; he

was the best sailor on board, and was beloved by all who were

acquainted with him.  This event occurred on the eleventh of

November, 1835; the vessel was the LONDON MERCHANT steamship.

Truly wonderful are the ways of Providence!



That same night we entered the Tagus, and dropped anchor

before the old tower of Belem; early the next morning we

weighed, and, proceeding onward about a league, we again

anchored at a short distance from the Caesodre, or principal

quay of Lisbon.  Here we lay for some hours beside the enormous

black hulk of the RAINHA NAO, a man-of-war, which in old times

so captivated the eye of Nelson, that he would fain have

procured it for his native country.  She was, long

subsequently, the admiral's ship of the Miguelite squadron, and

had been captured by the gallant Napier about three years

previous to the time of which I am speaking.



The RAINHA NAO is said to have caused him more trouble

than all the other vessels of the enemy; and some assert that,

had the others defended themselves with half the fury which the

old vixen queen displayed, the result of the battle which

decided the fate of Portugal would have been widely different.



I found disembarkation at Lisbon to be a matter of

considerable vexation; the custom-house officers were

exceedingly uncivil, and examined every article of my little

baggage with most provocating minuteness.



My first impression on landing in the Peninsula was by no

means a favourable one; and I had scarcely pressed the soil one

hour before I heartily wished myself back in Russia, a country

which I had quitted about one month previous, and where I had

left cherished friends and warm affections.



After having submitted to much ill-usage and robbery at

the custom-house, I proceeded in quest of a lodging, and at

last found one, but dirty and expensive.  The next day I hired

a servant, a Portuguese, it being my invariable custom on

arriving in a country to avail myself of the services of a

native; chiefly with the view of perfecting myself in the

language; and being already acquainted with most of the

principal languages and dialects of the east and the west, I am

soon able to make myself quite intelligible to the inhabitants.

In about a fortnight I found myself conversing in Portuguese

with considerable fluency.



Those who wish to make themselves understood by a

foreigner in his own language, should speak with much noise and

vociferation, opening their mouths wide.  Is it surprising that

the English are, in general, the worst linguists in the world,

seeing that they pursue a system diametrically opposite?  For

example, when they attempt to speak Spanish, the most sonorous

tongue in existence, they scarcely open their lips, and putting

their hands in their pockets, fumble lazily, instead of

applying them to the indispensable office of gesticulation.

Well may the poor Spaniards exclaim, THESE ENGLISH TALK SO

CRABBEDLY, THAT SATAN HIMSELF WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO UNDERSTAND

THEM.



Lisbon is a huge ruinous city, still exhibiting in almost

every direction the vestiges of that terrific visitation of

God, the earthquake which shattered it some eighty years ago.

It stands on seven hills, the loftiest of which is occupied by

the castle of Saint George, which is the boldest and most

prominent object to the eye, whilst surveying the city from the

Tagus.  The most frequented and busy parts of the city are

those comprised within the valley to the north of this

elevation.



Here you find the Plaza of the Inquisition, the principal

square in Lisbon, from which run parallel towards the river

three or four streets, amongst which are those of the gold and

silver, so designated from being inhabited by smiths cunning in

the working of those metals; they are upon the whole very

magnificent; the houses are huge and as high as castles;

immense pillars defend the causeway at intervals, producing,

however, rather a cumbrous effect.  These streets are quite

level, and are well paved, in which respect they differ from

all the others in Lisbon.  The most singular street, however,

of all is that of the Alemcrin, or Rosemary, which debouches on

the Caesodre.  It is very precipitous, and is occupied on

either side by the palaces of the principal Portuguese

nobility, massive and frowning, but grand and picturesque,

edifices, with here and there a hanging garden, overlooking the

streets at a great height.



With all its ruin and desolation, Lisbon is

unquestionably the most remarkable city in the Peninsula, and,

perhaps, in the south of Europe.  It is not my intention to

enter into minute details concerning it; I shall content myself

with remarking, that it is quite as much deserving the

attention of the artist as even Rome itself.  True it is that

though it abounds with churches it has no gigantic cathedral,

like St. Peter's, to attract the eye and fill it with wonder,

yet I boldly say that there is no monument of man's labour and

skill, pertaining either to ancient or modern Rome, for

whatever purpose designed, which can rival the water-works of

Lisbon; I mean the stupendous aqueduct whose principal arches

cross the valley to the north-east of Lisbon, and which

discharges its little runnel of cool and delicious water into

the rocky cistern within that beautiful edifice called the

Mother of the Waters, from whence all Lisbon is supplied with

the crystal lymph, though the source is seven leagues distant.

Let travellers devote one entire morning to inspecting the

Arcos and the Mai das Agoas, after which they may repair to the

English church and cemetery, Pere-la-chaise in miniature,

where, if they be of England, they may well be excused if they

kiss the cold tomb, as I did, of the author of AMELIA, the most

singular genius which their island ever produced, whose works

it has long been the fashion to abuse in public and to read in

secret.  In the same cemetery rest the mortal remains of

Doddridge, another English author of a different stamp, but

justly admired and esteemed.  I had not intended, on

disembarking, to remain long in Lisbon, nor indeed in Portugal;

my destination was Spain, whither I shortly proposed to direct

my steps, it being the intention of the Bible Society to

attempt to commence operations in that country, the object of

which should be the distribution of the Word of God, for Spain

had hitherto been a region barred against the admission of the

Bible; not so Portugal, where, since the revolution, the Bible

had been permitted both to be introduced and circulated.

Little, however, had been accomplished; therefore, finding

myself in the country, I determined, if possible, to effect

something in the way of distribution, but first of all to make

myself acquainted as to how far the people were disposed to

receive the Bible, and whether the state of education in

general would permit them to turn it to much account.  I had

plenty of Bibles and Testaments at my disposal, but could the

people read them, or would they?  A friend of the Society to

whom I was recommended was absent from Lisbon at the period of

my arrival; this I regretted, as he could have afforded me

several useful hints.  In order, however, that no time might be

lost, I determined not to wait for his arrival, but at once

proceed to gather the best information I could upon those

points to which I have already alluded.  I determined to

commence my researches at some slight distance from Lisbon,

being well aware of the erroneous ideas that I must form of the

Portuguese in general, should I judge of their character and

opinions from what I saw and heard in a city so much subjected

to foreign intercourse.



My first excursion was to Cintra.  If there be any place

in the world entitled to the appellation of an enchanted

region, it is surely Cintra; Tivoli is a beautiful and

picturesque place, but it quickly fades from the mind of those

who have seen the Portuguese Paradise.  When speaking of

Cintra, it must not for a moment be supposed that nothing more

is meant than the little town or city; by Cintra must be

understood the entire region, town, palace, quintas, forests,

crags, Moorish ruin, which suddenly burst on the view on

rounding the side of a bleak, savage, and sterile-looking

mountain.  Nothing is more sullen and uninviting than the

south-western aspect of the stony wall which, on the side of

Lisbon, seems to shield Cintra from the eye of the world, but

the other side is a mingled scene of fairy beauty, artificial

elegance, savage grandeur, domes, turrets, enormous trees,

flowers and waterfalls, such as is met with nowhere else

beneath the sun.  Oh! there are strange and wonderful objects

at Cintra, and strange and wonderful recollections attached to

them.  The ruin on that lofty peak, and which covers part of

the side of that precipitous steep, was once the principal

stronghold of the Lusitanian Moors, and thither, long after

they had disappeared, at a particular moon of every year, were

wont to repair wild santons of Maugrabie, to pray at the tomb

of a famous Sidi, who slumbers amongst the rocks.  That grey

palace witnessed the assemblage of the last cortes held by the

boy king Sebastian, ere he departed on his romantic expedition

against the Moors, who so well avenged their insulted faith and

country at Alcazarquibir, and in that low shady quinta,

embowered amongst those tall alcornoques, once dwelt John de

Castro, the strange old viceroy of Goa, who pawned the hairs of

his dead son's beard to raise money to repair the ruined wall

of a fortress threatened by the heathen of Ind; those crumbling

stones which stand before the portal, deeply graven, not with

"runes," but things equally dark, Sanscrit rhymes from the

Vedas, were brought by him from Goa, the most brilliant scene

of his glory, before Portugal had become a base kingdom; and

down that dingle, on an abrupt rocky promontory, stand the

ruined halls of the English Millionaire, who there nursed the

wayward fancies of a mind as wild, rich, and variegated as the

scenes around.  Yes, wonderful are the objects which meet the

eye at Cintra, and wonderful are the recollections attached to

them.



The town of Cintra contains about eight hundred

inhabitants.  The morning subsequent to my arrival, as I was

about to ascend the mountain for the purpose of examining the

Moorish ruins, I observed a person advancing towards me whom I

judged by his dress to be an ecclesiastic; he was in fact one

of the three priests of the place.  I instantly accosted him,

and had no reason to regret doing so; I found him affable and

communicative.



After praising the beauty of the surrounding scenery, I

made some inquiry as to the state of education amongst the

people under his care.  He answered, that he was sorry to say

that they were in a state of great ignorance, very few of the

common people being able either to read or write; that with

respect to schools, there was but one in the place, where four

or five children were taught the alphabet, but that even this

was at present closed; he informed me, however, that there was

a school at Colhares, about a league distant.  Amongst other

things, he said that nothing more surprised him than to see

Englishmen, the most learned and intelligent people in the

world, visiting a place like Cintra, where there was no

literature, science, nor anything of utility (COISA QUE

PRESTA).  I suspect that there was some covert satire in the

last speech of the worthy priest; I was, however, Jesuit enough

to appear to receive it as a high compliment, and, taking off

my hat, departed with an infinity of bows.



That same day I visited Colhares, a romantic village on

the side of the mountain of Cintra, to the north-west.  Seeing

some peasants collected round a smithy, I inquired about the

school, whereupon one of the men instantly conducted me

thither.  I went upstairs into a small apartment, where I found

the master with about a dozen pupils standing in a row; I saw

but one stool in the room, and to that, after having embraced

me, he conducted me with great civility.  After some discourse,

he showed me the books which he used for the instruction of the

children; they were spelling books, much of the same kind as

those used in the village schools in England.  Upon my asking

him whether it was his practice to place the Scriptures in the

hands of the children, he informed me that long before they had

acquired sufficient intelligence to understand them they were

removed by their parents, in order that they might assist in

the labours of the field, and that the parents in general were

by no means solicitous that their children should learn

anything, as they considered the time occupied in learning as

so much squandered away.  He said, that though the schools were

nominally supported by the government, it was rarely that the

schoolmasters could obtain their salaries, on which account

many had of late resigned their employments.  He told me that

he had a copy of the New Testament in his possession, which I

desired to see, but on examining it I discovered that it was

only the epistles by Pereira, with copious notes.  I asked him

whether he considered that there was harm in reading the

Scriptures without notes: he replied that there was certainly

no harm in it, but that simple people, without the help of

notes, could derive but little benefit from Scripture, as the

greatest part would be unintelligible to them; whereupon I

shook hands with him, and on departing said that there was no

part of Scripture so difficult to understand as those very

notes which were intended to elucidate it, and that it would

never have been written if not calculated of itself to illume

the minds of all classes of mankind.



In a day or two I made an excursion to Mafra, distant

about three leagues from Cintra; the principal part of the way

lay over steep hills, somewhat dangerous for horses; however, I

reached the place in safety.



Mafra is a large village in the neighbourhood of an

immense building, intended to serve as a convent and palace,

and which is built somewhat after the fashion of the Escurial.

In this edifice exists the finest library in Portugal,

containing books on all sciences and in all languages, and well

suited to the size and grandeur of the edifice which contains

it.  There were no monks, however, to take care of it, as in

former times; they had been driven forth, some to beg their

bread, some to serve under the banners of Don Carlos, in Spain,

and many, as I was informed, to prowl about as banditti.  I

found the place abandoned to two or three menials, and

exhibiting an aspect of solitude and desolation truly

appalling.  Whilst I was viewing the cloisters, a fine

intelligent-looking lad came up and asked (I suppose in the

hope of obtaining a trifle) whether I would permit him to show

me the village church, which he informed me was well worth

seeing; I said no, but added, that it he would show me the

village school I should feel much obliged to him.  He looked at

me with astonishment, and assured me that there was nothing to

be seen at the school, which did not contain more than half a

dozen boys, and that he himself was one of the number.  On my

telling him, however, that he should show me no other place, he

at length unwillingly attended me.  On the way I learned from

him that the schoolmaster was one of the friars who had lately

been expelled from the convent, that he was a very learned man,

and spoke French and Greek.  We passed a stone cross, and the

boy bent his head and crossed himself with much devotion.  I

mention this circumstance, as it was the first instance of the

kind which I had observed amongst the Portuguese since my

arrival.  When near the house where the schoolmaster resided,

he pointed it out to me, and then hid himself behind a wall,

where he awaited my return.



On stepping over the threshold I was confronted by a

short stout man, between sixty and seventy years of age,

dressed in a blue jerkin and grey trousers, without shirt or

waistcoat; he looked at me sternly, and enquired in the French

language what was my pleasure.  I apologised for intruding upon

him, and stated that, being informed he occupied the situation

of schoolmaster, I had come to pay my respects to him and to

beg permission to ask a few questions respecting the seminary.

He answered that whoever told me he was a schoolmaster lied,

for that he was a friar of the convent and nothing else.  "It

is not then true," said I, "that all the convents have been

broken up and the monks dismissed?"  "Yes, yes," said he with a

sigh, "it is true; it is but too true."  He then was silent for

a minute, and his better nature overcoming his angry feelings,

he produced a snuffbox and offered it to me.  The snuff-box is

the olive-branch of the Portuguese, and he who wishes to be on

good terms with them must never refuse to dip his finger and

thumb into it when offered.  I took therefore a huge pinch,

though I detest the dust, and we were soon on the best possible

terms.  He was eager to obtain news, especially from Lisbon and

Spain.  I told him that the officers of the troops at Lisbon

had, the day before I left that place, gone in a body to the

queen and insisted upon her either receiving their swords or

dismissing her ministers; whereupon he rubbed his hands and

said that he was sure matters would not remain tranquil at

Lisbon.  On my saying, however, that I thought the affairs of

Don Carlos were on the decline (this was shortly after the

death of Zumalacarregui), he frowned, and cried that it could

not possibly be, for that God was too just to suffer it.  I

felt for the poor man who had been driven out of his home in

the noble convent close by, and from a state of affluence and

comfort reduced in his old age to indigence and misery, for his

present dwelling scarcely seemed to contain an article of

furniture.  I tried twice or thrice to induce him to converse

about the school, but he either avoided the subject or said

shortly that he knew nothing about it.  On my leaving him, the

boy came from his hiding-place and rejoined me; he said that he

had hidden himself through fear of his master's knowing that he

had brought me to him, for that he was unwilling that any

stranger should know that he was a schoolmaster.



I asked the boy whether he or his parents were acquainted

with the Scripture and ever read it; he did not, however, seem

to understand me.  I must here observe that the boy was fifteen

years of age, that he was in many respects very intelligent,

and had some knowledge of the Latin language; nevertheless he

knew not the Scripture even by name, and I have no doubt, from

what I subsequently observed, that at least two-thirds of his

countrymen are on that important point no wiser than himself.

At the doors of village inns, at the hearths of the rustics, in

the fields where they labour, at the stone fountains by the

wayside where they water their cattle, I have questioned the

lower class of the children of Portugal about the Scripture,

the Bible, the Old and New Testament, and in no one instance

have they known what I was alluding to, or could return me a

rational answer, though on all other matters their replies were

sensible enough; indeed, nothing surprised me more than the

free and unembarrassed manner in which the Portuguese peasantry

sustain a conversation, and the purity of the language in which

they express their thoughts, and yet few of them can read or

write; whereas the peasantry of England, whose education is in

general much superior, are in their conversation coarse and

dull almost to brutality, and absurdly ungrammatical in their

language, though the English tongue is upon the whole more

simple in its structure than the Portuguese.



On my return to Lisbon I found our friend -, who received

me very kindly.  The next ten days were exceedingly rainy,

which prevented me from making any excursions into the country:

during this time I saw our friend frequently, and had long

conversations with him concerning the best means of

distributing the gospel.  He thought we could do no better for

the present than put part of our stock into the hands of the

booksellers of Lisbon, and at the same time employ colporteurs

to hawk the books about the streets, receiving a certain profit

off every copy they sold.  This plan was agreed upon and

forthwith put in practice, and with some success.  I had

thought of sending colporteurs into the neighbouring villages,

but to this our friend objected.  He thought the attempt

dangerous, as it was very possible that the rural priesthood,

who still possessed much influence in their own districts, and

who were for the most part decided enemies to the spread of the

gospel, might cause the men employed to be assassinated or ill-

treated.



I determined, however, ere leaving Portugal, to establish

depots of Bibles in one or two of the provincial towns.  I

wished to visit the Alemtejo, which I had heard was a very

benighted region.  The Alemtejo means the province beyond the

Tagus.  This province is not beautiful and picturesque, like

most other parts of Portugal: there are few hills and

mountains, the greater part consists of heaths broken by

knolls, and gloomy dingles, and forests of stunted pine; these

places are infested with banditti.  The principal city is Evora,

one of the most ancient in Portugal, and formerly the  seat of

a branch of the Inquisition, yet more cruel and baneful than the

terrible one of Lisbon.  Evora lies about sixty miles from Lisbon,

and to Evora I determined on going with twenty  Testaments

and two Bibles.  How I fared there will presently be seen.







CHAPTER II







Boatmen of the Tagus - Dangers of the Stream - Aldea Gallega -

The Hostelry - Robbers - Sabocha - Adventure of a Muleteer -

Estalagem de Ladroes - Don Geronimo - Vendas Novas - Royal Residence -

Swine of the Alemtejo - Monto Moro - Swayne Vonved - Singular Goatherd -

Children of the Fields - Infidels and Sadducees.





On the afternoon of the sixth of December I set out for

Evora, accompanied by my servant.  I had been informed that the

tide would serve for the regular passage-boats, or felouks, as

they are called, at about four o'clock, but on reaching the

side of the Tagus opposite to Aldea Gallega, between which

place and Lisbon the boats ply, I found that the tide would not

permit them to start before eight o'clock.  Had I waited for

them I should have probably landed at Aldea Gallega about

midnight, and I felt little inclination to make my entree in

the Alemtejo at that hour; therefore, as I saw small boats

which can push off at any time lying near in abundance, I

determined upon hiring one of them for the passage, though the

expense would be thus considerably increased.  I soon agreed

with a wild-looking lad, who told me that he was in part owner

of one of the boats, to take me over.  I was not aware of the

danger in crossing the Tagus at its broadest part, which is

opposite Aldea Gallega, at any time, but especially at close of

day in the winter season, or I should certainly not have

ventured.  The lad and his comrade, a miserable looking object,

whose only clothing, notwithstanding the season, was a tattered

jerkin and trousers, rowed until we had advanced about half a

mile from the land; they then set up a large sail, and the lad,

who seemed to direct everything and to be the principal, took

the helm and steered.  The evening was now setting in; the sun

was not far from its bourne in the horizon, the air was very

cold, the wind was rising, and the waves of the noble Tagus

began to be crested with foam.  I told the boy that it was

scarcely possible for the boat to carry so much sail without

upsetting, upon which he laughed, and began to gabble in a most

incoherent manner.  He had the most harsh and rapid

articulation that has ever come under my observation in any

human being; it was the scream of the hyena blended with the

bark of the terrier, though it was by no means an index of his

disposition, which I soon found to be light, merry, and

anything but malevolent, for when I, in order to show him that

I cared little about him, began to hum "EU QUE SOU

CONTRABANDISTA," he laughed heartily and said, clapping me on

the shoulder, that he would not drown us if he could help it.

The other poor fellow seemed by no means averse to go to the

bottom; he sat at the fore part of the boat looking the image

of famine, and only smiled when the waters broke over the

weather side and soaked his scanty habiliments.  In a little

time I had made up my mind that our last hour was come; the

wind was getting higher, the short dangerous waves were more

foamy, the boat was frequently on its beam, and the water came

over the lee side in torrents; but still the wild lad at the

helm held on laughing and chattering, and occasionally yelling

out part of the Miguelite air, "QUANDO EL REY CHEGOU" the

singing of which in Lisbon is imprisonment.



The stream was against us, but the wind was in our

favour, and we sprang along at a wonderful rate, and I saw that

our only chance of escape was in speedily passing the farther

bank of the Tagus where the bight or bay at the extremity of

which stands Aldea Gallega commences, for we should not then

have to battle with the waves of the stream, which the adverse

wind lashed into fury.  It was the will of the Almighty to

permit us speedily to gain this shelter, but not before the

boat was nearly filled with water, and we were all wet to the

skin.  At about seven o'clock in the evening we reached Aldea

Gallega, shivering with cold and in a most deplorable plight.



Aldea Gallega, or the Galician Village (for the two words

are Spanish, and have that signification), it a place

containing, I should think, about four thousand inhabitants.

It was pitchy dark when we landed, but rockets soon began to

fly about in all directions, illuming the air far and wide.  As

we passed along the dirty unpaved street which leads to the

Largo, or square in which the inn is situated, a horrible

uproar of drums and voices assailed our ears.  On inquiring the

cause of all this bustle, I was informed that it was the eve of

the Conception of the Virgin.



As it was not the custom of the people at the inn to

furnish provisions for the guests, I wandered about in search

of food; and at last seeing some soldiers eating and drinking

in a species of wine-house, I went in and asked the people to

let me have some supper, and in a short time they furnished me

with a tolerable meal, for which, however, they charged three

crowns.



Having engaged with a person for mules to carry us to

Evora, which were to be ready at five next morning, I soon

retired to bed, my servant sleeping in the same apartment,

which was the only one in the house vacant.  I closed not my

eyes during the whole night.  Beneath us was a stable, in which

some almocreves, or carriers, slept with their mules; at our

back, in the yard, was a pigsty.  How could I sleep?  The hogs

grunted, the mules screamed, and the almocreves snored most

horribly.  I heard the village clock strike the hours until

midnight, and from midnight till four in the morning, when I

sprang up and began to dress, and despatched my servant to

hasten the man with the mules, for I was heartily tired of the

place and wanted to leave it.  An old man, bony and hale,

accompanied by a barefooted lad, brought the beasts, which were

tolerably good.  He was the proprietor of them, and intended,

with the lad, who was his nephew, to accompany us to Evora.



When we started, the moon was shining brightly, and the

morning was piercingly cold.  We soon entered on a sandy hollow

way, emerging from which we passed by a strange-looking and

large edifice, standing on a high bleak sand-hill on our left.

We were speedily overtaken by five or six men on horseback,

riding at a rapid pace, each with a long gun slung at his

saddle, the muzzle depending about two feet below the horse's

belly.  I inquired of the old man what was the reason of this

warlike array.  He answered, that the roads were very bad

(meaning that they abounded with robbers), and that they went

armed in this manner for their defence; they soon turned off to

the right towards Palmella.



We reached a sandy plain studded with stunted pine; the

road was little more than a footpath, and as we proceeded, the

trees thickened and became a wood, which extended for two

leagues, with clear spaces at intervals, in which herds of

cattle and sheep were feeding; the bells attached to their

necks were ringing lowly and monotonously.  The sun was just

beginning to show itself; but the morning was misty and dreary,

which, together with the aspect of desolation which the country

exhibited, had an unfavourable effect on my spirits.  I got

down and walked, entering into conversation with the old man.

He seemed to have but one theme, "the robbers," and the

atrocities they were in the habit of practising in the very

spots we were passing.  The tales he told were truly horrible,

and to avoid them I mounted again, and rode on considerably in

front.



In about an hour and a half we emerged from the forest,

and entered upon a savage, wild, broken ground, covered with

mato, or brushwood.  The mules stopped to drink at a shallow

pool, and on looking to the right I saw a ruined wall.  This,

the guide informed me, was the remains of Vendas Velhas, or the

Old Inn, formerly the haunt of the celebrated robber Sabocha.

This Sabocha, it seems, had, some sixteen years ago, a band of

about forty ruffians at his command, who infested these wilds,

and supported themselves by plunder.  For a considerable time

Sabocha pursued his atrocious trade unsuspected, and many an

unfortunate traveller was murdered in the dead of night at the

solitary inn by the wood-side, which he kept; indeed, a more

fit situation for plunder and murder I never saw.  The gang

were in the habit of watering their horses at the pool, and

perhaps of washing therein their hands stained with the blood

of their victims; the lieutenant of the troop was the brother

of Sabocha, a fellow of great strength and ferocity,

particularly famous for the skill he possessed in darting a

long knife, with which he was in the habit of transfixing his

opponents.  Sabocha's connection with the gang at length became

known, and he fled, with the greater part of his associates,

across the Tagus to the northern provinces.  Himself and his

brothers eventually lost their lives on the road to Coimbra, in

an engagement with the military.  His house was razed by order

of the government.



The ruins are still frequently visited by banditti, who

eat and drink amidst them, and look out for prey, as the place

commands a view of the road.  The old man assured me, that

about two months previous, on returning to Aldea Gallega with

his mules from accompanying some travellers, he had been

knocked down, stripped naked, and all his money taken from him,

by a fellow whom he believed came from this murderers' nest.

He said that he was an exceedingly powerful young man, with

immense moustaches and whiskers, and was armed with an

espingarda, or musket.  About ten days subsequently he saw the

robber at Vendas Novas, where we should pass the night.  The

fellow on recognising him took him aside, and, with horrid

imprecations, threatened that he should never be permitted to

return home if he attempted to discover him; he therefore held

his peace, as there was little to be gained and everything to

be risked in apprehending him, as he would have been speedily

set at liberty for want of evidence to criminate him, and then

he would not have failed to have had his revenge, or would have

been anticipated therein by his comrades.



I dismounted and went up to the place, and saw the

vestiges of a fire and a broken bottle.  The sons of plunder

had been there very lately.  I left a New Testament and some

tracts amongst the ruins, and hastened away.



The sun had dispelled the mists and was beaming very hot;

we rode on for about an hour, when I heard the neighing of a

horse in our rear, and our guide said there was a party of

horsemen behind; our mules were good, and they did not overtake

us for at least twenty minutes.  The headmost rider was a

gentleman in a fashionable travelling dress; a little way

behind were an officer, two soldiers, and a boy in livery.  I

heard the principal horseman, on overtaking my servant,

inquiring who I was, and whether French or English.  He was

told I was an English gentleman, travelling.  He then asked

whether I understood Portuguese; the man said I understood it,

but he believed that I spoke French and Italian better.  The

gentleman then spurred on his horse and accosted me, not in

Portuguese, nor in French or Italian, but in the purest English

that I ever heard spoken by a foreigner; it had, indeed,

nothing of foreign accent or pronunciation in it; and had I not

known, by the countenance of the speaker, that he was no

Englishman, (for there is a peculiarity in the countenance, as

everybody knows, which, though it cannot be described, is sure

to betray the Englishman), I should have concluded that I was

in company with a countryman.  We continued discoursing until

we arrived at Pegoens.



Pegoens consists of about two or three houses and an inn;

there is likewise a species of barrack, where half a dozen

soldiers are stationed.  In the whole of Portugal there is no

place of worse reputation, and the inn is nick-named ESTALAGEM

DE LADROES, or the hostelry of thieves; for it is there that

the banditti of the wilderness, which extends around it on

every side for leagues, are in the habit of coming and spending

the money, the fruits of their criminal daring; there they

dance and sing, eat fricasseed rabbits and olives, and drink

the muddy but strong wine of the Alemtejo.  An enormous fire,

fed by the trunk of a cork tree, was blazing in a niche on the

left hand on entering the spacious kitchen.  Close by it,

seething, were several large jars, which emitted no

disagreeable odour, and reminded me that I had not broken my

fast, although it was now nearly one o'clock, and I had ridden

five leagues.  Several wild-looking men, who if they were not

banditti might easily be mistaken for such, were seated on logs

about the fire.  I asked them some unimportant questions, to

which they replied with readiness and civility, and one of

them, who said he could read, accepted a tract which I offered

him.



My new friend, who had been bespeaking dinner, or rather

breakfast, now, with great civility, invited me to partake of

it, and at the same time introduced me to the officer who

accompanied him, and who was his brother, and also spoke

English, though not so well as himself.  I found I had become

acquainted with Don Geronimo Joze D'Azveto, secretary to the

government at Evora; his brother belonged to a regiment of

hussars, whose headquarters were at Evora, but which had

outlying parties along the road, - for example, the place where

we were stopping.



Rabbits at Pegoens seem to be a standard article of food,

being produced in abundance on the moors around.  We had one

fried, the gravy of which was delicious, and afterwards a

roasted one, which was brought up on a dish entire; the

hostess, having first washed her hands, proceeded to tear the

animal to pieces, which having accomplished, she poured over

the fragments a sweet sauce.  I ate heartily of both dishes,

particularly of the last; owing, perhaps, to the novel and

curious manner in which it was served up.  Excellent figs, from

the Algarves, and apples concluded our repast, which we ate in

a little side room with a mud floor, which sent such a piercing

chill into my system, as prevented me from deriving that

pleasure from my fare and my agreeable companions that I should

have otherwise experienced.



Don Geronimo had been educated in England, in which

country he passed his boyhood, which in a certain degree

accounted for his proficiency in the English language, the

idiom and pronunciation of which can only be acquired by

residing in the country at that period of one's life.  He had

also fled thither shortly after the usurpation of the throne of

Portugal by Don Miguel, and from thence had departed to the

Brazils, where he had devoted himself to the service of Don

Pedro, and had followed him in the expedition which terminated

in the downfall of the usurper and the establishment of the

constitutional government in Portugal.  Our conversation rolled

chiefly on literary and political subjects, and my acquaintance

with the writings of the most celebrated authors of Portugal

was hailed with surprise and delight; for nothing is more

gratifying to a Portuguese than to observe a foreigner taking

an interest in the literature of his nation, of which, in many

respects, he is justly proud.



At about two o'clock we were once more in the saddle, and

pursued our way in company through a country exactly resembling

that which we had previously been traversing, rugged and

broken, with here and there a clump of pines.  The afternoon

was exceedingly fine, and the bright rays of the sun relieved

the desolation of the scene.  Having advanced about two

leagues, we caught sight of a large edifice towering

majestically in the distance, which I learnt was a royal palace

standing at the farther extremity of Vendas Novas, the village

in which we were to pass the night; it was considerably more

than a league from us, yet, seen through the clear transparent

atmosphere of Portugal it appeared much nearer.



Before reaching it we passed by a stone cross, on the

pedestal of which was an inscription commemorating a horrible

murder of a native of Lisbon, which had occurred on that spot;

it looked ancient, and was covered with moss, and the greater

part of the inscription was illegible, at least it was to me,

who could not bestow much time on its deciphering.  Having

arrived at Vendas Novas, and bespoken supper, my new friend and

myself strolled forth to view the palace; it was built by the

late king of Portugal, and presents little that is remarkable

in its exterior; it is a long edifice with wings, and is only

two stories high, though it can be seen afar off, from being

situated on elevated ground; it has fifteen windows in the

upper, and twelve in the lower story, with a paltry-looking

door, something like that of a barn, to which you ascend by one

single step; the interior corresponds with the exterior,

offering nothing which can gratify curiosity, if we except the

kitchens, which are indeed magnificent, and so large that food

enough might be cooked in them, at one time, to serve as a

repast for all the inhabitants of the Alemtejo.



I passed the night with great comfort in a clean bed,

remote from all those noises so rife in a Portuguese inn, and

the next morning at six we again set out on our journey, which

we hoped to terminate before sunset, as Evora is but ten

leagues from Vendas Novas.  The preceding morning had been

cold, but the present one was far colder, so much so, that just

before sunrise I could no longer support it on horseback, and

therefore dismounting, ran and walked until we reached a few

houses at the termination of these desolate moors.  It was in

one of these houses that the commissioners of Don Pedro and

Miguel met, and it was there agreed that the latter should

resign the crown in favour of Donna Maria, for Evora was the

last stronghold of the usurper, and the moors of the Alemtejo

the last area of the combats which so long agitated unhappy

Portugal.  I therefore gazed on the miserable huts with

considerable interest, and did not fail to scatter in the

neighbourhood several of the precious little tracts with which,

together with a small quantity of Testaments, my carpet bag was

provided.



The country began to improve; the savage heaths were left

behind, and we saw hills and dales, cork trees, and azinheiras,

on the last of which trees grows that kind of sweet acorn

called bolotas, which is pleasant as a chestnut, and which

supplies in winter the principal food on which the numerous

swine of the Alemtejo subsist.  Gallant swine they are, with

short legs and portly bodies of a black or dark red colour; and

for the excellence of their flesh I can vouch, having

frequently luxuriated upon it in the course of my wanderings in

this province; the lombo, or loin, when broiled on the live

embers, is delicious, especially when eaten with olives.



We were now in sight of Monte Moro, which, as the name

denotes, was once a fortress of the Moors; it is a high steep

hill, on the summit and sides of which are ruined walls and

towers; at its western side is a deep ravine or valley, through

which a small stream rushes, traversed by a stone bridge;

farther down there is a ford, over which we passed and ascended

to the town, which, commencing near the northern base, passes

over the lower ridge towards the north-east.  The town is

exceedingly picturesque, and many of the houses are very

ancient, and built in the Moorish fashion.  I wished much to

examine the relics of Moorish sway on the upper part of the

mountain, but time pressed, and the short period of our stay at

this place did not permit me to gratify my inclination.



Monte Moro is the head of a range of hills which cross

this part of the Alemtejo, and from hence they fork east and

south-east, towards the former of which directions lies the

direct road to Elvas, Badajos, and Madrid; and towards the

latter that to Evora.  A beautiful mountain, covered to the top

with cork trees, is the third of the chain which skirts the way

in the direction of Elvas.  It is called Monte Almo; a brook

brawls at its base, and as I passed it the sun was shining

gloriously on the green herbage on which flocks of goats were

feeding, with their bells ringing merrily, so that the TOUT

ENSEMBLE resembled a fairy scene; and that nothing might be

wanted to complete the picture, I here met a man, a goatherd,

beneath an azinheira, whose appearance recalled to my mind the

Brute Carle, mentioned in the Danish ballad of Swayne Vonved:-





"A wild swine on his shoulders he kept,

And upon his bosom a black bear slept;

And about his fingers with hair o'erhung,

 The squirrel sported and weasel clung."





Upon the shoulder of the goatherd was a beast, which he

told me was a lontra, or otter, which he had lately caught in

the neighbouring brook; it had a string round its neck which

was attached to his arm.  At his left side was a bag, from the

top of which peered the heads of two or three singular-looking

animals, and at his right was squatted the sullen cub of a

wolf, which he was endeavouring to tame; his whole appearance

was to the last degree savage and wild.  After a little

conversation such as those who meet on the road frequently

hold, I asked him if he could read, but he made me no answer.

I then inquired if he knew anything of God or Jesus Christ; he

looked me fixedly in the face for a moment, and then turned his

countenance towards the sun, which was beginning to sink in the

west, nodded to it, and then again looked fixedly upon me.  I

believe that I understood the mute reply; which probably was,

that it was God who made that glorious light which illumes and

gladdens all creation; and gratified with that belief, I left

him and hastened after my companions, who were by this time a

considerable way in advance.



I have always found in the disposition of the children of

the fields a more determined tendency to religion and piety

than amongst the inhabitants of towns and cities, and the

reason is obvious, they are less acquainted with the works of

man's hands than with those of God; their occupations, too,

which are simple, and requiring less of ingenuity and skill

than those which engage the attention of the other portion of

their fellow-creatures, are less favourable to the engendering

of self-conceit and sufficiency so utterly at variance with

that lowliness of spirit which constitutes the best foundation

of piety.  The sneerers and scoffers at religion do not spring

from amongst the simple children of nature, but are the

excrescences of overwrought refinement, and though their

baneful influence has indeed penetrated to the country and

corrupted man there, the source and fountainhead was amongst

crowded houses, where nature is scarcely known.  I am not one

of those who look for perfection amongst the rural population

of any country; perfection is not to be found amongst the

children of the fall, wherever their abodes may happen to be;

but, until the heart discredits the existence of a God, there

is still hope for the soul of the possessor, however stained

with crime he may be, for even Simon the magician was

converted; but when the heart is once steeled with infidelity,

infidelity confirmed by carnal wisdom, an exuberance of the

grace of God is required to melt it, which is seldom

manifested; for we read in the blessed book that the Pharisee

and the wizard became receptacles of grace, but where is there

mention made of the conversion of the sneering Sadducee, and is

the modern infidel aught but a Sadducee of later date?



It was dark night before we reached Evora, and having

taken leave of my friends, who kindly requested me to consider

their house my home, I and my servant went to the Largo de San

Francisco, in which the muleteer informed me was the best

hostelry of the town.  We rode into the kitchen, at the extreme

end of which was the stable, as is customary in Portugal.  The

house was kept by an aged gypsy-like female and her daughter, a

fine blooming girl about eighteen years of age.  The house was

large; in the upper storey was a very long room, like a

granary, which extended nearly the whole length of the house;

the farther part was partitioned off and formed a chamber

tolerably comfortable but very cold, and the floor was of

tiles, as was also that of the large room in which the

muleteers were accustomed to sleep on the furniture of the

mules.  After supper I went to bed, and having offered up my

devotions to Him who had protected me through a dangerous

journey, I slept soundly till the morning.







CHAPTER III







Shopkeeper at Evora - Spanish Contrabandistas - Lion and Unicorn -

The Fountain - Trust in the  Almighty - Distribution of Tracts -

Library at Evora -  Manuscript -The Bible as a Guide - The Infamous Mary

- The Man of Palmella - The Charm - The Monkish System - Sunday -

Volney - An Auto-Da-Fe - Men from Spain - Reading of a Tract -

New Arrival - The Herb Rosemary.





Evora is a small city, walled, but not regularly

fortified, and could not sustain a siege of a day.  It has five

gates; before that to the south-west is the principal promenade

of its inhabitants: the fair on St. John's day is likewise held

there; the houses are in general very ancient, and many of them

unoccupied.  It contains about five thousand inhabitants,

though twice that number would be by no means disproportionate

to its size.  The two principal edifices are the See, or

cathedral, and the convent of San Francisco, in the square

before the latter of which was situated the posada where I had

taken up my abode.  A large barrack for cavalry stands on the

right-hand side, on entering the south-west gate.  To the

south-east, at the distance of six leagues, is to be seen a

blue chain of hills, the highest of which is called Serra

Dorso; it is picturesquely beautiful, and contains within its

recesses wolves and wild boars in numbers.  About a league and

a half on the other side of this hill is Estremos.



I passed the day succeeding my arrival principally in

examining the town and its environs, and, as I strolled about,

entering into conversation with various people that I met;

several of these were of the middle class, shopkeepers and

professional men; they were all Constitutionalists, or

pretended to be so, but had very little to say except a few

commonplace remarks on the way of living of the friars, their

hypocrisy and laziness.  I endeavoured to obtain some

information respecting the state of instruction in the place,

and from their answers was led to believe that it must be at

the lowest ebb, for it seemed that there was neither book-shop

nor school.  When I spoke of religion, they exhibited the

utmost apathy for the subject, and making their bows left me as

soon as possible.



Having a letter of introduction to a person who kept a

shop in the market-place, I went thither and delivered it to

him as he stood behind his counter.  In the course of

conversation, I found that he had been much persecuted whilst

the old system was in its vigour, and that he entertained a

hearty aversion for it.  I told him that the ignorance of the

people in religious matters had served to nurse that system,

and that the surest way to prevent its return was to enlighten

their minds: I added that I had brought a small stock of Bibles

and Testaments to Evora, which I wished to leave for sale in

the hands of some respectable merchant, and that it he were

anxious to help to lay the axe to the root of superstition and

tyranny, he could not do so more effectually than by

undertaking the charge of these books.  He declared his

willingness to do so, and I went away determined to entrust to

him half of my stock.  I returned to the hostelry, and sat down

on a log of wood on the hearth within the immense chimney in

the common apartment; two surly looking men were on their knees

on the stones; before them was a large heap of pieces of old

iron, brass, and copper; they were assorting it, and stowing it

away in various bags.  They were Spanish contrabandistas of the

lowest class, and earned a miserable livelihood by smuggling

such rubbish from Portugal into Spain.  Not a word proceeded

from their lips, and when I addressed them in their native

language, they returned no other answer than a kind of growl.

They looked as dirty and rusty as the iron in which they

trafficked; their four miserable donkeys were in the stable in

the rear.



The woman of the house and her daughter were exceedingly

civil to me, and coming near crouched down, asking various

questions about England.  A man dressed somewhat like an

English sailor, who sat on the other side of the hearth

confronting me, said, "I hate the English, for they are not

baptized, and have not the law," meaning the law of God.  I

laughed, and told him that according to the law of England, no

one who was unbaptized could be buried in consecrated ground;

whereupon he said, "Then you are stricter than we."  He then

said, "What is meant by the lion and the unicorn which I saw

the other day on the coat of arms over the door of the English

consul at St. Ubes?"  I said they were the arms of England!

"Yes," he replied, "but what do they represent?"  I said I did

not know.  "Then," said he, "you do not know the secrets of

your own house."  I said, "Suppose I were to tell you that they

represent the Lion of Bethlehem, and the horned monster of the

flaming pit in combat, as to which should obtain the mastery in

England, what would you say?"  He replied, "I should say that

you gave a fair answer."  This man and myself became great

friends; he came from Palmella, not far from St. Ubes; he had

several mules and horses with him, and dealt in corn and

barley.  I again walked out and roamed in the environs of the

town.



About half a mile from the southern wall is a stone

fountain, where the muleteers and other people who visit the

town are accustomed to water their horses.  I sat down by it,

and there I remained about two hours, entering into

conversation with every one who halted at the fountain; and I

will here observe, that during the time of my sojourn at Evora,

I repeated my visit every day, and remained there the same

time; and by following this plan, I believe that I spoke to at

least two hundred of the children of Portugal upon matters

relating to their eternal welfare.  I found that very few of

those whom I addressed had received any species of literary

education, none of them had seen the Bible, and not more than

half a dozen had the slightest inkling of what the holy book

consisted.  I found that most of them were bigoted Papists and

Miguelites at heart.  I therefore, when they told me they were

Christians, denied the possibility of their being so, as they

were ignorant of Christ and His commandments, and placed their

hope of salvation on outward forms and superstitious

observances, which were the invention of Satan, who wished to

keep them in darkness that at last they might stumble into the

pit which he had dug for them.  I said repeatedly that the

Pope, whom they revered, was an arch deceiver, and the head

minister of Satan here on earth, and that the monks and friars,

whose absence they so deplored, and to whom they had been

accustomed to confess themselves, were his subordinate agents.

When called upon for proofs, I invariably cited the ignorance

of my auditors respecting the Scriptures, and said that if

their spiritual guides had been really ministers of Christ,

they would not have permitted their flocks to remain

unacquainted with His Word.



Since this occurred, I have been frequently surprised

that I experienced no insult and ill-treatment from the people,

whose superstitions I was thus attacking; but I really

experienced none, and am inclined to believe that the utter

fearlessness which I displayed, trusting in the Protection of

the Almighty, may have been the cause.  When threatened by

danger, the best policy is to fix your eye steadily upon it,

and it will in general vanish like the morning mist before the

sun; whereas, if you quail before it, it is sure to become more

imminent.  I have fervent hope that the words of my mouth sank

deep into the hearts of some of my auditors, as I observed many

of them depart musing and pensive.  I occasionally distributed

tracts amongst them; for although they themselves were unable

to turn them to much account, I thought that by their means

they might become of service at some future time, and fall into

the hands of others, to whom they might be of eternal interest.

Many a book which is abandoned to the waters is wafted to some

remote shore, and there proves a blessing and a comfort to

millions, who are ignorant from whence it came.



The next day, which was Friday, I called at the house of

my friend Don Geronimo Azveto.  I did not find him there, but

was directed to the see, or episcopal palace, in an apartment

of which I found him, writing, with another gentleman, to whom

he introduced me; it was the governor of Evora, who welcomed me

with every mark of kindness and affability.  After some

discourse, we went out together to examine an ancient edifice,

which was reported to have served, in bygone times, as a temple

to Diana.  Part of it was evidently of Roman architecture, for

there was no mistaking the beautiful light pillars which

supported a dome, under which the sacrifices to the most

captivating and poetical divinity of the heathen theocracy had

probably been made; but the original space between the pillars

had been filled up with rubbish of a modern date, and the rest

of the building was apparently of the architecture of the

latter end of the Middle Ages.  It was situated at one end of

the building which had once been the seat of the Inquisition,

and had served, before the erection of the present see, as the

residence of the bishop.



Within the see, where the governor now resides, is a

superb library, occupying an immense vaulted room, like the

aisle of a cathedral, and in a side apartment is a collection

of paintings by Portuguese artists, chiefly portraits, amongst

which is that of Don Sebastian.  I sincerely hope it did not do

him justice, for it represents him in the shape of an awkward

lad of about eighteen, with a bloated booby face with staring

eyes, and a ruff round a short apoplectic neck.



I was shown several beautifully illuminated missals and

other manuscripts; but the one which most arrested my

attention, I scarcely need say why, was that which bore the

following title:-





"Forma sive ordinatio Capelli illustrissimi et xianissimi

principis Henvici Sexti Regis Anglie et Francie am dm Hibernie

descripta serenissio principi Alfonso Regi Portugalie illustri

per humilem servitorem sm Willm. Sav. Decanu capelle

supradicte."





It seemed a voice from the olden times of my dear native

land!  This library and picture gallery had been formed by one

of the latter bishops, a person of much learning and piety.



In the evening I dined with Don Geronimo and his brother;

the latter soon left us to attend to his military duties.  My

friend and myself had now much conversation of considerable

interest; he lamented the deplorable state of ignorance in

which his countrymen existed at present.  He said that his

friend the governor and himself were endeavouring to establish

a school in the vicinity, and that they had made application to

the government for the use of an empty convent, called the

Espinheiro, or thorn tree, at about a league's distance, and

that they had little doubt of their request being complied

with.  I had before told him who I was, and after expressing

joy at the plan which he had in contemplation, I now urged him

in the most pressing manner to use all his influence to make

the knowledge of the Scripture the basis of the education which

the children were to receive, and added, that half the Bibles

and Testaments which I had brought with me to Evora were

heartily at his service; he instantly gave me his hand, said he

accepted my offer with the greatest pleasure, and would do all

in his power to forward my views, which were in many respects

his own.  I now told him that I did not come to Portugal with

the view of propagating the dogmas of any particular sect, but

with the hope of introducing the Bible, which is the well-head

of all that is useful and conducive to the happiness of

society, - that I cared not what people called themselves,

provided they followed the Bible as a guide; for that where the

Scriptures were read, neither priestcraft nor tyranny could

long exist, and instanced the case of my own country, the cause

of whose freedom and prosperity was the Bible, and that only,

as the last persecutor of this book, the bloody and infamous

Mary, was the last tyrant who had sat on the throne of England.

We did not part till the night was considerably advanced, and

the next morning I sent him the books, in the firm and

confident hope that a bright and glorious morning was about to

rise over the night which had so long cast its dreary shadows

over the regions of the Alemtejo.



The day after this interesting event, which was Saturday,

I had more conversation with the man from Palmella.  I asked

him if in his journeys he had never been attacked by robbers;

he answered no, for that he generally travelled in company with

others.  "However," said he, "were I alone I should have little

fear, for I am well protected."  I said that I supposed he

carried arms with him.  "No other arms than this," said he,

pulling out one of those long desperate looking knives, of

English manufacture, with which every Portuguese peasant is

usually furnished.  This knife serves for many purposes, and I

should consider it a far more efficient weapon than a dagger.

"But," said he, "I do not place much confidence in the knife."

I then inquired in what rested his hope of protection.  "In

this," said he: and unbuttoning his waistcoat, he showed me a

small bag, attached to his neck by a silken string.  "In this

bag is an oracam, or prayer, written by a person of power, and

as long as I carry it about with me, no ill can befall me."

Curiosity is the leading feature of my character, and I

instantly said, with eagerness, that I should feel great

pleasure in being permitted to read the prayer.  "Well," he

replied, "you are my friend, and I would do for you what I

would for few others, I will show it you."  He then asked for

my penknife, and having unripped the bag, took out a large

piece of paper closely folded up.  I hurried to my apartment

and commenced the examination of it.  It was scrawled over in a

very illegible hand, and was moreover much stained with

perspiration, so that I had considerable difficulty in making

myself master of its contents, but I at last accomplished the

following literal translation of the charm, which was written

in bad Portuguese, but which struck me at the time as being one

of the most remarkable compositions that had ever come to my

knowledge.





THE CHARM





"Just Judge and divine Son of the Virgin Maria, who wast

born in Bethlehem, a Nazarene, and wast crucified in the midst

of all Jewry, I beseech thee, O Lord, by thy sixth day, that

the body of me be not caught, nor put to death by the hands of

justice at all; peace be with you, the peace of Christ, may I

receive peace, may you receive peace, said God to his

disciples.  If the accursed justice should distrust me, or have

its eyes on me, in order to take me or to rob me, may its eyes

not see me, may its mouth not speak to me, may it have ears

which may not hear me, may it have hands which may not seize

me, may it have feet which may not overtake me; for may I be

armed with the arms of St. George, covered with the cloak of

Abraham, and shipped in the ark of Noah, so that it can neither

see me, nor hear me, nor draw the blood from my body.  I also

adjure thee, O Lord, by those three blessed crosses, by those

three blessed chalices, by those three blessed clergymen, by

those three consecrated hosts, that thou give me that sweet

company which thou gavest to the Virgin Maria, from the gates

of Bethlehem to the portals of Jerusalem, that I may go and

come with pleasure and joy with Jesus Christ, the Son of the

Virgin Maria, the prolific yet nevertheless the eternal

virgin."





The woman of the house and her daughter had similar bags

attached to their necks, containing charms, which, they said,

prevented the witches having power to harm them.  The belief in

witchcraft is very prevalent amongst the peasantry of the

Alemtejo, and I believe of other provinces of Portugal.  This

is one of the relies of the monkish system, the aim of which,

in all countries where it has existed, seems to have been to

beset the minds of the people, that they might be more easily

misled.  All these charms were fabrications of the monks, who

had sold them to their infatuated confessants.  The monks of

the Greek and Syrian churches likewise deal in this ware, which

they know to be poison, but which they would rather vend than

the wholesome balm of the gospel, because it brings them a

large price, and fosters the delusion which enables them to

live a life of luxury.



The Sunday morning was fine, and the plain before the

church of the convent of San Francisco was crowded with people

hastening to or returning from the mass.  After having

performed my morning devotion, and breakfasted, I went down to

the kitchen; the girl Geronima was seated by the fire.  I

inquired if she had heard mass?  She replied in the negative,

and that she did not intend to hear it.  Upon my inquiring her

motive for absenting herself, she replied, that since the

friars had been expelled from their churches and convents she

had ceased to attend mass, or to confess herself; for that the

government priests had no spiritual power, and consequently she

never troubled them.  She said the friars were holy men and

charitable; for that every morning those of the convent over

the way fed forty poor persons with the relics of the meals of

the preceding day, but that now these people were allowed to

starve.  I replied, that the friars, who lived on the fat of

the land, could well afford to bestow a few bones upon their

poor, and that their doing so was merely a part of their

policy, by which they hoped to secure to themselves friends in

time of need.  The girl then observed, that as it was Sunday, I

should perhaps like to see some books, and without waiting for

a reply she produced them.  They consisted principally of

popular stories, with lives and miracles of saints, but amongst

them was a translation of Volney's RUINS OF EMPIRES.  I

expressed a wish to know how she became possessed of this book.

She said that a young man, a great Constitutionalist, had given

it to her some months previous, and had pressed her much to

read it, for that it was one of the best books in the world.  I

replied, that the author of it was an emissary of Satan, and an

enemy of Jesus Christ and the souls of mankind; that it was

written with the sole aim of bringing all religion into

contempt, and that it inculcated the doctrine that there was no

future state, nor reward for the righteous nor punishment for

the wicked.  She made no reply, but going into another room,

returned with her apron full of dry sticks and brushwood, all

which she piled upon the fire, and produced a bright blaze.

She then took the book from my hand and placed it upon the

flaming pile; then sitting down, took her rosary out of her

pocket and told her beads till the volume was consumed.  This

was an AUTO DA FE in the best sense of the word.



On the Monday and Tuesday I paid my usual visits to the

fountain, and likewise rode about the neighbourhood on a mule,

for the purpose of circulating tracts.  I dropped a great many

in the favourite walks of the people of Evora, as I felt rather

dubious of their accepting them had I proffered them with my

own hand, whereas, should they be observed lying on the ground,

I thought that curiosity might cause them to be picked up and

examined.  I likewise, on the Tuesday evening, paid a farewell

visit to my friend Azveto, as it was my intention to leave

Evora on the Thursday following and return to Lisbon; in which

view I had engaged a calash of a man who informed me that he

had served as a soldier in the grande armee of Napoleon, and

been present in the Russian campaign.  He looked the very image

of a drunkard.  His face was covered with carbuncles, and his

breath impregnated with the fumes of strong waters.  He wished

much to converse with me in French, in the speaking of which

language it seemed he prided himself, but I refused, and told

him to speak the language of the country, or I would hold no

discourse with him.



Wednesday was stormy, with occasional rain.  On coming

down, I found that my friend from Palmella had departed: but

several contrabandistas had arrived from Spain.  They were

mostly fine fellows, and unlike the two I had seen the

preceding week, who were of much lower degree, were chatty and

communicative; they spoke their native language, and no other,

and seemed to hold the Portuguese in great contempt.  The

magnificent tones of the Spanish sounded to great advantage

amidst the shrill squeaking dialect of Portugal.  I was soon in

deep conversation with them, and was much pleased to find that

all of them could read.  I presented the eldest, a man of about

fifty years of age, with a tract in Spanish.  He examined it

for some time with great attention; he then rose from his seat,

and going into the middle of the apartment, began reading it

aloud, slowly and emphatically; his companions gathered around

him, and every now and then expressed their approbation of what

they heard.  The reader occasionally called upon me to explain

passages which, as they referred to particular texts of

Scripture, he did not exactly understand, for not one of the

party had ever seen either the Old or New Testament.



He continued reading for upwards of an hour, until he had

finished the tract; and, at its conclusion, the whole party

were clamorous for similar ones, with which I was happy to be

able to supply them.



Most of these men spoke of priestcraft and the monkish

system with the utmost abhorrence, and said that they should

prefer death to submitting again to the yoke which had formerly

galled their necks.  I questioned them very particularly

respecting the opinion of their neighbours and acquaintances on

this point, and they assured me that in their part of the

Spanish frontier all were of the same mind, and that they cared

as little for the Pope and his monks as they did for Don

Carlos; for the latter was a dwarf (CHICOTITO) and a tyrant,

and the others were plunderers and robbers.  I told them they

must beware of confounding religion with priestcraft, and that

in their abhorrence of the latter they must not forget that

there is a God and a Christ to whom they must look for

salvation, and whose word it was incumbent upon them to study

on every occasion; whereupon they all expressed a devout belief

in Christ and the Virgin.



These men, though in many respects more enlightened than

the surrounding peasantry, were in others as much in the dark;

they believed in witchcraft and in the efficacy of particular

charms.  The night was very stormy, and at about nine we heard

a galloping towards the door, and then a loud knocking; it was

opened, and in rushed a wild-looking man mounted on a donkey;

he wore a ragged jacket of sheepskin, called in Spanish

zamarra, with breeches of the same as far down as his knees;

his legs were bare.  Around his sombrero, or shadowy hat, was

tied a large quantity of the herb which in English is called

rosemary, in Spanish romero, and in the rustic language of

Portugal, alecrim; which last is a word of Scandinavian origin

(ELLEGREN), signifying the elfin plant, and was probably

carried into the south by the Vandals.  The man seemed frantic

with terror, and said that the witches had been pursuing him

and hovering over his head for the last two leagues.  He came

from the Spanish frontier with meal and other articles; he said

that his wife was following him and would soon arrive, and in

about a quarter of an hour she made her appearance, dripping

with rain, and also mounted on a donkey.



I asked my friends the contrabandistas why he wore the

rosemary in his hat; whereupon they told me that it was good

against witches and the mischances on the road.  I had no time

to argue against this superstition, for, as the chaise was to

be ready at five the next morning, I wished to make the most of

the short time which I could devote to sleep.







CHAPTER IV







Vexatious Delays - Drunken Driver - The Murdered Mule -

The Lamentation - Adventure on the Heath - Fear of Darkness -

Portuguese Fidalgo - The Escort - Return to Lisbon.





I rose at four, and after having taken some refreshment,

I descended and found the strange man and his wife sleeping in

the chimney corner by the fire, which was still burning; they

soon awoke and began preparing their breakfast, which consisted

of salt sardinhas, broiled upon the embers.  In the meantime

the woman sang snatches of the beautiful hymn, very common in

Spain, which commences thus:-





"Once of old upon a mountain, shepherds overcome with

sleep,

Near to Bethlem's holy tower, kept at dead of night their

sheep;

Round about the trunk they nodded of a huge ignited oak,

Whence the crackling flame ascending bright and clear the

darkness broke."





On hearing that I was about to depart, she said, "You

shall have some of my husband's rosemary, which will keep you

from danger, and prevent any misfortune occurring."  I was

foolish enough to permit her to put some of it in my hat; and

the man having by this time arrived with his mules, I bade

farewell to my friendly hostesses, and entered the chaise with

my servant.



I remarked at the time, that the mules which drew us were

the finest I had ever seen; the largest could be little short

of sixteen hands high; and the fellow told me in his bad French

that he loved them better than his wife and children.  We

turned round the corner of the convent and proceeded down the

street which leads to the south-western gate.  The driver now

stopped before the door of a large house, and having alighted,

said that it was yet very early, and that he was afraid to

venture forth, as it was very probable we should be robbed, and

himself murdered, as the robbers who resided in the town would

be apprehensive of his discovering them, but that the family

who lived in this house were going to Lisbon, and would depart

in about a quarter of an hour, when we might avail ourselves of

an escort of soldiers which they would take with them, and in

their company we should run no danger.  I told him I had no

fear, and commanded him to drive on; but he said he would not,

and left us in the street.  We waited an hour, when two

carriages came to the door of the house, but it seems the

family were not yet ready, whereupon the coachman likewise got

down and went away.  At the expiration of about half an hour

the family came out, and when their luggage had been arranged

they called for the coachman, but he was nowhere to be found.

Search was made for him, but ineffectually, and an hour more

was spent before another driver could be procured; but the

escort had not yet made its appearance, and it was not before a

servant had been twice despatched to the barracks that it

arrived.  At last everything was ready, and they drove off.



All this time I had seen nothing of our own coachman, and

I fully expected that he had abandoned us altogether.  In a few

minutes I saw him staggering up the street in a state of

intoxication, attempting to sing the Marseillois hymn.  I said

nothing to him, but sat observing him.  He stood for some time

staring at the mules and talking incoherent nonsense in French.

At last he said, "I am not so drunk but I can ride," and

proceeded to lead his mules towards the gate.  When out of the

town he made several ineffectual attempts to mount the smallest

mule which bore the saddle; he at length succeeded, and

instantly commenced spurring at a furious rate down the road.

We arrived at a place where a narrow rocky path branched off,

by taking which we should avoid a considerable circuit round

the city wall, which otherwise it would be necessary to make

before we could reach the road to Lisbon, which lay at the

north-east; he now said, "I shall take this path, for by so

doing we shall overtake the family in a minute"; so into the

path we went; it was scarcely wide enough to admit the

carriage, and exceedingly steep and broken; we proceeded;

ascending and descending, the wheels cracked, and the motion

was so violent that we were in danger of being cast out as from

a sling.  I saw that if we remained in the carriage it must be

broken in pieces, as our weight must insure its destruction.  I

called to him in Portuguese to stop, but he flogged and spurred

the beasts the more.  My man now entreated me for God's sake to

speak to him in French, for, if anything would pacify him, that

would.  I did so, and entreated him to let us dismount and

walk, till we had cleared this dangerous way.  The result

justified Antonio's anticipation.  He instantly stopped and

said, "Sir, you are master, you have only to command and I

shall obey."  We dismounted and walked on till we reached the

great road, when we once more seated ourselves.



The family were about a quarter of a mile in advance, and

we were no sooner reseated, than he lashed the mules into full

gallop for the purpose of overtaking it; his cloak had fallen

from his shoulder, and, in endeavouring to readjust it, he

dropped the string from his hand by which he guided the large

mule, it became entangled in the legs of the poor animal, which

fell heavily on its neck, it struggled for a moment, and then

lay stretched across the way, the shafts over its body.  I was

pitched forward into the dirt, and the drunken driver fell upon

the murdered mule.



I was in a great rage, and cried, "You drunken renegade,

who are ashamed to speak the language of your own country, you

have broken the staff of your existence, and may now starve."

"Paciencia," said he, and began kicking the head of the mule,

in order to make it rise; but I pushed him down, and taking his

knife, which had fallen from his pocket, cut the bands by which

it was attached to the carriage, but life had fled, and the

film of death had begun to cover its eyes.



The fellow, in the recklessness of intoxication, seemed

at first disposed to make light of his loss, saying, "The mule

is dead, it was God's will that she should die, what more can

be said?  Paciencia."  Meanwhile, I despatched Antonio to the

town for the purpose of hiring mules, and, having taken my

baggage from the chaise, waited on the roadside until he should

arrive.



The fumes of the liquor began now to depart from the

fellow's brain; he clasped his hands and exclaimed, "Blessed

Virgin, what is to become of me?  How am I to support myself?

Where am I to get another mule!  For my mule, my best mule is

dead, she fell upon the road, and died of a sudden!  I have

been in France, and in other countries, and have seen beasts of

all kinds, but such a mule as that I have never seen; but she

is dead - my mule is dead - she fell upon the road and died of

a sudden!"  He continued in this strain for a considerable

time, and the burden of his lamentation was always, "My mule is

dead, she fell upon the road, and died of a sudden."  At length

he took the collar from the creature's neck, and put it upon

the other, which with some difficulty he placed in the shafts.



A beautiful boy of about thirteen now came from the

direction of the town, running along the road with the velocity

of a hare: he stopped before the dead mule and burst into

tears: it was the man's son, who had heard of the accident from

Antonio.  This was too much for the poor fellow: he ran up to

the boy, and said, "Don't cry, our bread is gone, but it is

God's will; the mule is dead!"  He then flung himself on the

ground, uttering fearful cries.  "I could have borne my loss,"

said he, "but when I saw my child cry, I became a fool."  I

gave him two or three crowns, and added some words of comfort;

assuring him I had no doubt that, if he abandoned drink, the

Almighty God would take compassion on him and repair his loss.

At length he became more composed, and placing my baggage in

the chaise, we returned to the town, where I found two

excellent riding mules awaiting my arrival at the inn.  I did

not see the Spanish woman, or I should have told her of the

little efficacy of rosemary in this instance.



I have known several drunkards amongst the Portuguese,

but, without one exception, they have been individuals who,

having travelled abroad, like this fellow, have returned with a

contempt for their own country, and polluted with the worst

vices of the lands which they have visited.



I would strongly advise any of my countrymen who may

chance to read these lines, that, if their fate lead them into

Spain or Portugal, they avoid hiring as domestics, or being

connected with, individuals of the lower classes who speak any

other language than their own, as the probability is that they

are heartless thieves and drunkards.  These gentry are

invariably saying all they can in dispraise of their native

land; and it is my opinion, grounded upon experience, that an

individual who is capable of such baseness would not hesitate

at the perpetration of any villainy, for next to the love of

God, the love of country is the best preventive of crime.  He

who is proud of his country, will be particularly cautious not

to do anything which is calculated to disgrace it.



We now journeyed towards Lisbon, and reached Monte Moro

about two o'clock.  After taking such refreshment as the place

afforded, we pursued our way till we were within a quarter of a

league of the huts which stand on the edge of the savage

wilderness we had before crossed.  Here we were overtaken by a

horseman; he was a powerful, middle-sized man, and was mounted

on a noble Spanish horse.  He had a broad, slouching sombrero

on his head, and wore a jerkin of blue cloth, with large bosses

of silver for buttons, and clasps of the same metal; he had

breeches of yellow leather, and immense jack-boots: at his

saddle was slung a formidable gun.  He inquired if I intended

to pass the night at Vendas Novas, and on my replying in the

affirmative, he said that he would avail himself of our

company.  He now looked towards the sun, whose disk was rapidly

sinking beneath the horizon, and entreated us to spur on and

make the most of its light, for that the moor was a horrible

place in the dusk.  He placed himself at our head, and we

trotted briskly on, the boy or muleteer who attended us running

behind without exhibiting the slightest symptom of fatigue.



We entered upon the moor, and had advanced about a mile

when dark night fell around us; we were in a wild path, with

high brushwood on either side, when the rider said that he

could not confront the darkness, and begged me to ride on

before, and he would follow after: I could hear him trembling.

I asked the reason of his terror, and he replied that at one

time darkness was the same thing to him as day, but that of

late years he dreaded it, especially in wild places.  I

complied with his request, but I was ignorant of the way, and

as I could scarcely see my hand, was continually going wrong.

This made the man impatient, and he again placed himself at our

head.  We proceeded so for a considerable way, when he again

stopped, and said that the power of the darkness was too much

for him.  His horse seemed to be infected with the same panic,

for it shook in every limb.  I now told him to call on the name

of the Lord Jesus, who was able to turn the darkness into

light, but he gave a terrible shout, and, brandishing his gun

aloft, discharged it in the air.  His horse sprang forward at

full speed, and my mule, which was one of the swiftest of its

kind, took fright and followed at the heels of the charger.

Antonio and the boy were left behind.  On we flew like a

whirlwind, the hoofs of the animals illuming the path with the

sparks of fire they struck from the stones.  I knew not whither

we were going, but the dumb creatures were acquainted with the

way, and soon brought us to Vendas Novas, where we were

rejoined by our companions.



I thought this man was a coward, but I did him injustice,

for during the day he was as brave as a lion, and feared no

one.  About five years since, he had overcome two robbers who

had attacked him on the moors, and, after tying their hands

behind them, had delivered them up to justice; but at night the

rustling of a leaf filled him with terror.  I have known

similar instances of the kind in persons of otherwise

extraordinary resolution.  For myself, I confess I am not a

person of extraordinary resolution, but the dangers of the

night daunt me no more than those of midday.  The man in

question was a farmer from Evora, and a person of considerable

wealth.



I found the inn at Vendas Novas thronged with people, and

had some difficulty in obtaining accommodation and refreshment.

It was occupied by the family of a certain Fidalgo, from

Estremoz; he was on the way to Lisbon, conveying a large sum of

money, as was said - probably the rents of his estates.  He had

with him a body guard of four-and-twenty of his dependants,

each armed with a rifle; they consisted of his swineherds,

shepherds, cowherds, and hunters, and were commanded by two

youths, his son and nephew, the latter of whom was in

regimentals; nevertheless, notwithstanding the number of his

troop, it appeared that the Fidalgo laboured under considerable

apprehension of being despoiled upon the waste which lay

between Vendas Novas and Pegoens, as he had just requested a

guard of four soldiers from the officer who commanded a

detachment stationed here: there were many females in his

company, who, I was told, were his illegitimate daughters - for

he bore an infamous moral character, and was represented to me

as a staunch friend of Don Miguel.  It was not long before he

came up to me and my new acquaintance, as we sat by the kitchen

fire: he was a tall man of about sixty, but stooped much.  His

countenance was by no means pleasing: he had a long hooked

nose, small twinkling cunning eyes, and, what I liked worst of

all, a continual sneering smile, which I firmly believe to be

the index of a treacherous and malignant heart.  He addressed

me in Spanish, which, as he resided not far from the frontier,

he spoke with fluency, but contrary to my usual practice, I was

reserved and silent.



On the following morning I rose at seven, and found that

the party from Estremoz had started several hours previously.

I breakfasted with my acquaintance of the preceding night, and

we set out to accomplish what remained of our journey.  The sun

had now arisen; and all his fears had left him - he breathed

defiance against all the robbers of the Alemtejo.  When we had

advanced about a league, the boy who attended us said he saw

heads of men amongst the brushwood.  Our cavalier instantly

seized his gun, and causing his horse to make two or three

lofty bounds, held it in one hand, the muzzle pointed in the

direction indicated, but the heads did not again make their

appearance, and it was probably but a false alarm.



We resumed our way, and the conversation turned, as might

be expected, upon robbers.  My companion, who seemed to be

acquainted with every inch of ground over which we passed, had

a legend to tell of every dingle and every pine-clump.  We

reached a slight eminence, on the top of which grew three

stately pines: about half a league farther on was another

similar one: these two eminences commanded a view of the road

from Pegoens and Vendas Novas, so that all people going and

coming could be descried, whilst yet at a distance.  My friend

told me that these heights were favourite stations of robbers.

Some two years since, a band of six mounted banditti remained

there three days, and plundered whomsoever approached from

either quarter: their horses, saddled and bridled, stood

picqueted at the foot of the trees, and two scouts, one for

each eminence, continually sat in the topmost branches and gave

notice of the approach of travellers: when at a proper distance

the robbers below sprang upon their horses, and putting them to

full gallop, made at their prey, shouting RENDETE, PICARO!

RENDETE, PICARO! (Surrender, scoundrel, surrender!)  We,

however, passed unmolested, and, about a quarter of a mile

before we reached Pegoens, overtook the family of the Fidalgo.



Had they been conveying the wealth of Ind through the

deserts of Arabia, they could not have travelled with more

precaution.  The nephew, with drawn sabre, rode in front;

pistols at his holsters, and the usual Spanish gun slung at his

saddle.  Behind him tramped six men in a rank, with muskets

shouldered, and each of them wore at his girdle a hatchet,

which was probably intended to cleave the thieves to the

brisket should they venture to come to close quarters.  There

were six vehicles, two of them calashes, in which latter rode

the Fidalgo and his daughters; the others were covered carts,

and seemed to be filled with household furniture; each of these

vehicles had an armed rustic on either side; and the son, a lad

about sixteen, brought up the rear with a squad equal to that

of his cousin in the van.  The soldiers, who by good fortune

were light horse, and admirably mounted, were galloping about

in all directions, for the purpose of driving the enemy from

cover, should they happen to be lurking in the neighbourhood.



I could not help thinking as I passed by, that this

martial array was very injudicious, for though it was

calculated to awe plunderers, it was likewise calculated to

allure them, as it seemed to hint that immense wealth was

passing through their territories.  I do not know how the

soldiers and rustics would have behaved in case of an attack;

but am inclined to believe that if three such men as Richard

Turpin had suddenly galloped forth from behind one of the bush-

covered knolls, neither the numbers nor resistance opposed to

them would have prevented them from bearing away the contents

of the strong box jingling in their saddle-bags.



From this moment nothing worthy of relating occurred till

our arrival at Aldea Gallega, where we passed the night, and

next morning at three o'clock embarked in the passage-boat for

Lisbon, where we arrived at eight - and thus terminates my

first wandering in the Alemtejo.







CHAPTER V







The College - The Rector - Shibboleth - National Prejudices -

Youthful Sports - Jews of Lisbon - Bad Faith -

Crime and Superstition - Strange Proposal.





One afternoon Antonio said to me, "It has struck me,

Senhor, that your worship would like to see the college of the

English - ."  "By all means," I replied, "pray conduct me

thither."  So he led me through various streets until we

stopped before the gate of a large building in one of the most

elevated situations in Lisbon; upon our ringing, a kind of

porter presently made his appearance, and demanded our

business.  Antonio explained it to him.  He hesitated for a

moment; but presently, bidding us enter, conducted us to a

large gloomy-looking stone hall, where, begging us to be

seated, he left us.  We were soon joined by a venerable

personage, seemingly about seventy, in a kind of flowing robe

or surplice, with a collegiate cap upon his head.

Notwithstanding his age there was a ruddy tinge upon his

features, which were perfectly English.  Coming slowly up he

addressed me in the English tongue, requesting to know how he

could serve me.  I informed him that I was an English

traveller, and should be happy to be permitted to inspect the

college, provided it were customary to show it to strangers.

He informed me that there could be no objection to accede to my

request, but that I came at rather an unfortunate moment, it

being the hour of refection.  I apologised, and was preparing

to retire, but he begged me to remain, as, in a few minutes,

the refection would be over, when the principals of the college

would do themselves the pleasure of waiting on me.



We sat down on the stone bench, when he commenced

surveying me attentively for some time, and then cast his eyes

on Antonio.  "Whom have we here?" said he to the latter;

"surely your features are not unknown to me."  "Probably not,

your reverence," replied Antonio, getting up and bowing most

profoundly.  "I lived in the family of the Countess -, at

Cintra, when your venerability was her spiritual guide."

"True, true," said the old gentleman, sighing, "I remember you

now.  Ah, Antonio, things are strangely changed since then.  A

new government - a new system - a new religion, I may say."

Then looking again at me, he demanded whither I was journeying?

"I am going to Spain," said I, "and have stopped at Lisbon by

the way."  "Spain, Spain!" said the old man; "surely you have

chosen a strange time to visit Spain; there is much

bloodshedding in Spain at present, and violent wars and

tumults."  "I consider the cause of Don Carlos as already

crushed," I replied; "he has lost the only general capable of

leading his armies to Madrid.  Zumalacarregui, his Cid, has

fallen."  "Do not flatter yourself; I beg your pardon, but do

not think, young man, that the Lord will permit the powers of

darkness to triumph so easily; the cause of Don Carlos is not

lost; its success did not depend on the life of a frail worm

like him whom you have mentioned."  We continued in discourse

some little time, when he arose, saying that by this time he

believed the refection was concluded.



He had scarcely left me five minutes when three

individuals entered the stone hall, and advanced slowly towards

me; - the principals of the college, said I to myself! and so

indeed they were.  The first of these gentlemen, and to whom

the other two appeared to pay considerable deference, was a

thin spare person, somewhat above the middle height; his

complexion was very pale, his features emaciated but fine, his

eyes dark and sparkling; he might be about fifty - the other

two were men in the prime of life.  One was of rather low

stature; his features were dark, and wore that pinched and

mortified expression so frequently to be observed in the

countenance of the English -: the other was a bluff, ruddy, and

rather good-looking young man; all three were dressed alike in

the usual college cap and silk gown.  Coming up, the eldest of

the three took me by the hand and thus addressed me in clear

silvery tones:-



"Welcome, Sir, to our poor house; we are always happy to

see in it a countryman from our beloved native land; it will

afford us extreme satisfaction to show you over it; it is true

that satisfaction is considerably diminished by the reflection

that it possesses nothing worthy of the attention of a

traveller; there is nothing curious pertaining to it save

perhaps its economy, and that as we walk about we will explain

to you.  Permit us, first of all, to introduce ourselves to

you; I am rector of this poor English house of refuge; this

gentleman is our professor of humanity, and this (pointing to

the ruddy personage) is our professor of polite learning,

Hebrew, and Syriac."



MYSELF. - I humbly salute you all; excuse me if I inquire

who was the venerable gentleman who put himself to the

inconvenience of staying with me whilst I was awaiting your

leisure.



RECTOR. - O! a most admirable personage, our almoner, our

chaplain; he came into this country before any of us were born,

and here he has continued ever since.  Now let us ascend that

we may show you our poor house: but how is this, my dear Sir,

how is it that I see you standing uncovered in our cold damp

hall?



MYSELF. - I can easily explain that to you; it is a

custom which has become quite natural to me.  I am just arrived

from Russia, where I have spent some years.  A Russian

invariably takes off his hat whenever he enters beneath a roof,

whether it pertain to hut, shop, or palace.  To omit doing so

would be considered as a mark of brutality and barbarism, and

for the following reason: in every apartment of a Russian house

there is a small picture of the Virgin stuck up in a corner,

just below the ceiling - the hat is taken off out of respect to

her.



Quick glances of intelligence were exchanged by the three

gentlemen.  I had stumbled upon their shibboleth, and

proclaimed myself an Ephraimite, and not of Gilead.  I have no

doubt that up to that moment they had considered me as one of

themselves - a member, and perhaps a priest, of their own

ancient, grand, and imposing religion, for such it is, I must

confess - an error into which it was natural that they should

fall.  What motives could a Protestant have for intruding upon

their privacy?  What interest could he take in inspecting the

economy of their establishment?  So far, however, from relaxing

in their attention after this discovery, their politeness

visibly increased, though, perhaps, a scrutinizing observer

might have detected a shade of less cordiality in their manner.



RECTOR. - Beneath the ceiling in every apartment?  I

think I understood you so.  How delightful - how truly

interesting; a picture of the BLESSED Virgin beneath the

ceiling in every apartment of a Russian house!  Truly, this

intelligence is as unexpected as it is delightful.  I shall

from this moment entertain a much higher opinion of the

Russians than hitherto - most truly an example worthy of

imitation.  I wish sincerely that it was our own practice to

place an IMAGE of the BLESSED Virgin beneath the ceiling in

every corner of our houses.  What say you, our professor of

humanity?  What say you to the information so obligingly

communicated to us by this excellent gentleman?



HUMANITY PROFESSOR. - It is, indeed, most delightful,

most cheering, I may say; but I confess that I was not

altogether unprepared for it.  The adoration of the Blessed

Virgin is becoming every day more extended in countries where

it has hitherto been unknown or forgotten.  Dr. W-, when he

passed through Lisbon, gave me some most interesting details

with respect to the labours of the propaganda in India.  Even

England, our own beloved country. . . .





 My obliging friends showed me all over their "poor

house," it certainly did not appear a very rich one; it was

spacious, and rather dilapidated.  The library was small, and

possessed nothing remarkable; the view, however, from the roof,

over the greater part of Lisbon and the Tagus, was very grand

and noble; but I did not visit this place in the hope of seeing

busts, or books, or fine prospects, - I visited this strange

old house to converse with its inmates, for my favourite, I

might say, my only study, is man.  I found these gentlemen much

what I had anticipated, for this was not the first time that I

had visited an English - establishment in a foreign land.  They

were full of amiability and courtesy to their heretic

countryman, and though the advancement of their religion was

with them an object of paramount importance, I soon found that,

with ludicrous inconsistency, they cherished, to a wonderful

degree, national prejudices almost extinct in the mother land,

even to the disparagement of those of their own darling faith.

I spoke of the English -, of their high respectability, and of

the loyalty which they had uniformly displayed to their

sovereign, though of a different religion, and by whom they had

been not unfrequently subjected to much oppression and

injustice.



RECTOR. - My dear Sir, I am rejoiced to hear you; I see

that you are well acquainted with the great body of those of

our faith in England.  They are as you have well described

them, a most respectable and loyal body; from loyalty, indeed,

they never swerved, and though they have been accused of plots

and conspiracies, it is now well known that such had no real

existence, but were merely calumnies invented by their

religious enemies.  During the civil wars the English -

cheerfully shed their blood and squandered their fortunes in

the cause of the unfortunate martyr, notwithstanding that he

never favoured them, and invariably looked upon them with

suspicion.  At present the English - are the most devoted

subjects to our gracious sovereign.  I should be happy if I

could say as much for our Irish brethren; but their conduct has

been - oh! detestable.  Yet what can you expect?  The true -

blush for them.  A certain person is a disgrace to the church

of which he pretends to be a servant.  Where does he find in

our canons sanction for his proceedings, his undutiful

expressions towards one who is his sovereign by divine right,

and who can do no wrong?  And above all, where does he find

authority for inflaming the passions of a vile mob against a

nation intended by nature and by position to command them?



MYSELF. - I believe there is an Irish college in this

city?



RECTOR. - I believe there is; but it does not flourish,

there are few or no pupils.  Oh!



I looked through a window, at a great height, and saw

about twenty or thirty fine lads sporting in a court below.

"This is as it should be," said I; "those boys will not make

worse priests from a little early devotion to trap-ball and

cudgel playing.  I dislike a staid, serious, puritanic

education, as I firmly believe that it encourages vice and

hypocrisy."



We then went into the Rector's room, where, above a

crucifix, was hanging a small portrait.



MYSELF. - That was a great and portentous man, honest

withal.  I believe the body of which he was the founder, and

which has been so much decried, has effected infinitely more

good than it has caused harm.



RECTOR. - What do I hear?  You an Englishman, and a

Protestant, and yet an admirer of Ignatius Loyola?



MYSELF. - I will say nothing with respect to the doctrine

of the Jesuits, for, as you have observed, I am a Protestant:

but I am ready to assert that there are no people in the world

better qualified, upon the whole, to be intrusted with the

education of youth.  Their moral system and discipline are

truly admirable.  Their pupils, in after life, are seldom

vicious and licentious characters, and are in general men of

learning, science, and possessed of every elegant

accomplishment.  I execrate the conduct of the liberals of

Madrid in murdering last year the helpless fathers, by whose

care and instruction two of the finest minds of Spain have been

evolved - the two ornaments of the liberal cause and modern

literature of Spain, for such are Toreno and Martinez de la

Rosa. . . .



Gathered in small clusters about the pillars at the lower

extremities of the gold and silver streets in Lisbon, may be

observed, about noon in every day, certain strange looking men,

whose appearance is neither Portuguese nor European.  Their

dress generally consists of a red cap, with a blue silken

tassel at the top of it, a blue tunic girded at the waist with

a red sash, and wide linen pantaloons or trousers.  He who

passes by these groups generally hears them conversing in

broken Spanish or Portuguese, and occasionally in a harsh

guttural language, which the oriental traveller knows to be the

Arabic, or a dialect thereof.  These people are the Jews of

Lisbon.  Into the midst of one of these groups I one day

introduced myself, and pronounced a beraka, or blessing.  I

have lived in different parts of the world, much amongst the

Hebrew race, and am well acquainted with their ways and

phraseology.  I was rather anxious to become acquainted with

the state of the Portuguese Jews, and I had now an opportunity.

"The man is a powerful rabbi," said a voice in Arabic; "it

behoves us to treat him kindly."  They welcomed me.  I favoured

their mistake, and in a few days I knew all that related to

them and their traffic in Lisbon.



I found them a vile, infamous rabble, about two hundred

in number.  With a few exceptions, they consist of escapados

from the Barbary shore, from Tetuan, from Tangier, but

principally from Mogadore; fellows who have fled to a foreign

land from the punishment due to their misdeeds.  Their manner

of life in Lisbon is worthy of such a goodly assemblage of AMIS

REUNIS.  The generality of them pretend to work in gold and

silver, and keep small peddling shops; they, however,

principally depend for their livelihood on an extensive traffic

in stolen goods which they carry on.  It is said that there is

honour amongst thieves, but this is certainly not the case with

the Jews of Lisbon, for they are so greedy and avaricious, that

they are constantly quarrelling about their ill-gotten gain,

the result being that they frequently ruin each other.  Their

mutual jealousy is truly extraordinary.  If one, by cheating

and roguery, gains a cruzado in the presence of another, the

latter instantly says I cry halves, and if the first refuse he

is instantly threatened with an information.  The manner in

which they cheat each other has, with all its infamy,

occasionally something extremely droll and ludicrous.  I was

one day in the shop of a Swiri, or Jew of Mogadore, when a Jew

from Gibraltar entered, with a Portuguese female, who held in

her hand a mantle, richly embroidered with gold.



GIBRALTAR JEW (speaking in broken Arabic). - Good-day, O

Swiri; God has favoured me this day; here is a bargain by which

we shall both gain.  I have bought this mantle of the woman

almost for nothing, for it is stolen; but I am poor, as you

know, I have not a cruzado; pay her therefore the price, that

we may then forthwith sell the mantle and divide the gain.



SWIRI. - Willingly, brother of Gibraltar; I will pay the

woman for the mantle; it does not appear a bad one.



Thereupon he flung two cruzados to the woman, who

forthwith left the shop.



GIBRALTAR JEW. - Thanks, brother Swirl, this is very kind

of you; now let us go and sell the mantle, the gold alone is

well worth a moidore; but I am poor and have nothing to eat,

give me, therefore, the half of that sum and keep the mantle; I

shall be content.



SWIRI. - May Allah blot out your name, you thief.  What

mean you by asking me for money?  I bought the mantle of the

woman and paid for it.  I know nothing of you.  Go out of my

doors, dog of a Nazarene, if not I will pay you with a kick.



The dispute was referred to one of the sabios, or

priests; but the sabio, who was also from Mogadore, at once

took the part of the Swiri, and decided that the other should

have nothing.  Whereupon the Gibraltar Jew cursed the sabio,

his father, mother, and all his family.  The sabio replied, "I

put you in ndui," a kind of purgatory or hell.  "I put you in

seven nduis," retorted the incensed Jew, over whom, however,

superstitious fear speedily prevailed; he faltered, became

pale, and dropping his voice, retreated, trembling in every

limb.



The Jews have two synagogues in Lisbon, both are small;

one is, however, tolerably well furnished, it has its reading

desk, and in the middle there is a rather handsome chandelier;

the other is little better than a sty, filthy to a degree,

without ornament of any kind.  The congregation of this last

are thieves to a man; no Jew of the slightest respectability

ever enters it.



How well do superstition and crime go hand in hand.

These wretched beings break the eternal commandments of their

Maker without scruple; but they will not partake of the beast

of the uncloven foot, and the fish which has no scales.  They

pay no regard to the denunciations of holy prophets against the

children of sin, but they quake at the sound of a dark

cabalistic word, pronounced by one perhaps their equal, or

superior, in villainy, as if God would delegate the exercise of

his power to the workers of iniquity.



I was one day sauntering on the Caesodre, when a Jew,

with whom I had previously exchanged a word or two, came up and

addressed me.



JEW. - The blessing of God upon you, brother; I know you

to be a wise and powerful man, and I have conceived much regard

for you; it is on that account that I wish to put you in the

way of gaining much money.  Come with me, and I will conduct

you to a place where there are forty chests of tea.  It is a

sereka (a robbery), and the thieves are willing to dispose of

it for a trifle, for there is search being made, and they are

in much fear.  I can raise one half of what they demand, do you

supply the other, we will then divide it, each shall go his own

way and dispose of his portion.



MYSELF. - Wherefore, O son of Arbat, do you propose this

to me, who am a stranger?  Surely you are mad.  Have you not

your own people about you whom you know, and in whom you can

confide?



JEW. - It is because I know our people here that I do not

confide in them; we are in the galoot of sin.  Were I to

confide in my brethren there would be a dispute, and perhaps

they would rob me, and few of them have any money.  Were I to

apply to the sabio he might consent, but when I ask for my

portion he would put me in ndui!  You I do not fear; you are

good and would do me no harm, unless I attempted to deceive

you, and that I dare not do, for I know you are powerful.  Come

with me, master, for I wish to gain something, that I may

return to Arbat, where I have children . . .



Such are Jews in Lisbon.







CHAPTER VI







Cold of Portugal - Extortion prevented - Sensation of Loneliness -

The Dog - The Convent - Enchanting Landscape - Moorish Fortresses -

Prayer for the Sick.





About a fortnight after my return from Evora, having made

the necessary preparations, I set out on my journey for

Badajoz, from which town I intended to take the diligence to

Madrid.  Badajoz lies about a hundred miles distant from

Lisbon, and is the principal frontier town of Spain in the

direction of the Alemtejo.  To reach this place, it was

necessary to retravel the road as far as Monte More, which I

had already passed in my excursion to Evora; I had therefore

very little pleasure to anticipate from novelty of scenery.

Moreover, in this journey I should be a solitary traveller,

with no other companion than the muleteer, as it was my

intention to take my servant no farther than Aldea Gallega, for

which place I started at four in the afternoon.  Warned by

former experience, I did not now embark in a small boat, but in

one of the regular passage felouks, in which we reached Aldea

Gallega, after a voyage of six hours; for the boat was heavy,

there was no wind to propel it, and the crew were obliged to

ply their huge oars the whole way.  In a word, this passage was

the reverse of the first, - safe in every respect, - but so

sluggish and tiresome, that I a hundred times wished myself

again under the guidance of the wild lad, galloping before the

hurricane over the foaming billows.  From eight till ten the

cold was truly terrible, and though I was closely wrapped in an

excellent fur "shoob," with which I had braved the frosts of

Russian winters, I shivered in every limb, and was far more

rejoiced when I again set my foot on the Alemtejo, than when I

landed for the first time, after having escaped the horrors of

the tempest.



I took up my quarters for the night at a house to which

my friend who feared the darkness had introduced me on my

return from Evora, and where, though I paid mercilessly dear

for everything, the accommodation was superior to that of the

common inn in the square.  My first care now was to inquire for

mules to convey myself and baggage to Elvas, from whence there

are but three short leagues to the Spanish town of Badajoz.

The people of the house informed me that they had an excellent

pair at my disposal, but when I inquired the price, they were

not ashamed to demand four moidores.  I offered them three,

which was too much, but which, however, they did not accept,

for knowing me to be an Englishman, they thought they had an

excellent opportunity to practise imposition, not imagining

that a person so rich as an Englishman MUST be, would go out in

a cold night for the sake of obtaining a reasonable bargain.

They were, however, much mistaken, as I told them that rather

than encourage them in their knavery, I should be content to

return to Lisbon; whereupon they dropped their demand to three

and a half, but I made them no answer, and going out with

Antonio, proceeded to the house of the old man who had

accompanied us to Evora.  We knocked a considerable time, for

he was in bed; at length he arose and admitted us, but on

hearing our object, he said that his mules were again gone to

Evora, under the charge of the boy, for the purpose of

transporting some articles of merchandise.  He, however,

recommended us to a person in the neighbourhood who kept mules

for hire, and there Antonio engaged two fine beasts for two

moidores and a half.  I say he engaged them, for I stood aloof

and spoke not, and the proprietor, who exhibited them, and who

stood half-dressed, with a lamp in his hand and shivering with

cold, was not aware that they were intended for a foreigner

till the agreement was made, and he had received a part of the

sum in earnest.  I returned to the inn well pleased, and having

taken some refreshment went to rest, paying little attention to

the people, who glanced daggers at me from their small Jewish

eyes.



At five the next morning the mules were at the door; a

lad of some nineteen or twenty years of age attended them; he

was short but exceedingly strong built, and possessed the

largest head which I ever beheld upon mortal shoulders; neck he

had none, at least I could discern nothing which could be

entitled to that name.  His features were hideously ugly, and

upon addressing him I discovered that he was an idiot.  Such

was my intended companion in a journey of nearly a hundred

miles, which would occupy four days, and which lay over the

most savage and ill noted track in the whole kingdom.  I took

leave of my servant almost with tears, for he had always served

me with the greatest fidelity, and had exhibited an assiduity

and a wish to please which afforded me the utmost satisfaction.



We started, my uncouth guide sitting tailor-fashion on

the sumpter mule upon the baggage.  The moon had just gone

down, and the morning was pitchy dark, and, as usual,

piercingly cold.  He soon entered the dismal wood, which I had

already traversed, and through which we wended our way for some

time, slowly and mournfully.  Not a sound was to be heard save

the trampling of the animals, not a breath of air moved the

leafless branches, no animal stirred in the thickets, no bird,

not even the owl, flew over our heads, all seemed desolate and

dead, and during my many and far wanderings, I never

experienced a greater sensation of loneliness, and a greater

desire for conversation and an exchange of ideas than then.  To

speak to the idiot was useless, for though competent to show

the road, with which he was well acquainted, he had no other

answer than an uncouth laugh to any question put to him.  Thus

situated, like many other persons when human comfort is not at

hand, I turned my heart to God, and began to commune with Him,

the result of which was that my mind soon became quieted and

comforted.



We passed on our way uninterrupted; no thieves showed

themselves, nor indeed did we see a single individual until we

arrived at Pegoens, and from thence to Vendas Novas our fortune

was the same.  I was welcomed with great kindness by the people

of the hostelry of the latter place, who were well acquainted

with me on account of my having twice passed the night under

their roof.  The name of the keeper of this is, or was, Joze

Dias Azido, and unlike the generality of those of the same

profession as himself in Portugal, he is an honest man, and a

stranger and foreigner who takes up his quarters at his inn,

may rest assured that he will not be most unmercifully pillaged

and cheated when the hour of reckoning shall arrive, as he will

not be charged a single re more than a native Portuguese on a

similar occasion.  I paid at this place exactly one half of the

sum which was demanded from me at Arroyolos, where I passed the

ensuing night, and where the accommodation was in every respect

inferior.



At twelve next day we arrived at Monte More, and, as I

was not pressed for time, I determined upon viewing the ruins

which cover the top and middle part of the stately hill which

towers above the town.  Having ordered some refreshment at the

inn where we dismounted, I ascended till I arrived at a large

wall or rampart, which, at a certain altitude embraces the

whole hill.  I crossed a rude bridge of stones, which bestrides

a small hollow or trench; and passing by a large tower, entered

through a portal into the enclosed part of the hill.  On the

left hand stood a church, in good preservation, and still

devoted to the purposes of religion, but which I could not

enter, as the door was locked, and I saw no one at hand to open

it.



I soon found that my curiosity had led me to a most

extraordinary place, which quite beggars the scanty powers of

description with which I am gifted.  I stumbled on amongst

ruined walls, and at one time found I was treading over vaults,

as I suddenly started back from a yawning orifice into which my

next step, as I strolled musing along, would have precipitated

me.  I proceeded for a considerable way by the eastern wall,

till I heard a tremendous bark, and presently an immense dog,

such as those which guard the flocks in the neighbourhood

against the wolves, came bounding to attack me "with eyes that

glowed and fangs that grinned."  Had I retreated, or had

recourse to any other mode of defence than that which I

invariably practise under such circumstances, he would probably

have worried me; but I stooped till my chin nearly touched my

knee, and looked him full in the eyes, and as John Leyden says,

in the noblest ballad which the Land of Heather has produced:-





"The hound he yowled and back he fled,

As struck with fairy charm."





It is a fact known to many people, and I believe it has

been frequently stated, that no large and fierce dog or animal

of any kind, with the exception of the bull, which shuts its

eyes and rushes blindly forward, will venture to attack an

individual who confronts it with a firm and motionless

countenance.  I say large and fierce, for it is much easier to

repel a bloodhound or bear of Finland in this manner than a

dunghill cur or a terrier, against which a stick or a stone is

a much more certain defence.  This will astonish no one who

considers that the calm reproving glance of reason, which

allays the excesses of the mighty and courageous in our own

species, has seldom any other effect than to add to the

insolence of the feeble and foolish, who become placid as doves

upon the infliction of chastisements, which if attempted to be

applied to the former would only serve to render them more

terrible, and like gunpowder cast on a flame, cause them in mad

desperation to scatter destruction around them.



The barking of the dog brought out from a kind of alley

an elderly man, whom I supposed to be his master, and of whom I

made some inquiries respecting the place.  The man was civil,

and informed me that he served as a soldier in the British

army, under the "great lord," during the Peninsular war.  He

said that there was a convent of nuns a little farther on,

which he would show me, and thereupon led the way to the south-

east part of the wall, where stood a large dilapidated edifice.



We entered a dark stone apartment, at one corner of which

was a kind of window occupied by a turning table, at which

articles were received into the convent or delivered out.  He

rang the bell, and, without saying a word, retired, leaving me

rather perplexed; but presently I heard, though the speaker was

invisible, a soft feminine voice demanding who I was, and what

I wanted.  I replied that I was an Englishman travelling into

Spain, and that passing through Monte Moro I had ascended the

hill for the purpose of seeing the ruins.  The voice then said,

"I suppose you are a military man going to fight against the

king, like the rest of your countrymen."  "No," said I, "I am

not a military man, but a Christian, and I go not to shed blood

but to endeavour to introduce the gospel of Christ into a

country where it is not known;" whereupon there was a stifled

titter, I then inquired if there were any copies of the Holy

Scriptures in the convent, but the friendly voice could give me

no information on that point, and I scarcely believe that its

possessor understood the purport of my question.  It informed

me, that the office of lady abbess of the house was an annual

one, and that every year there was a fresh superior; on my

inquiring whether the nuns did not frequently find the time

exceedingly heavy on their hands, it stated that, when they had

nothing better to do, they employed themselves in making

cheesecakes, which were disposed of in the neighbourhood.  I

thanked the voice for its communications, and walked away.

Whilst proceeding under the wall of the house towards the

south-west, I heard a fresh and louder tittering above my head,

and looking up, saw three or four windows crowded with dusky

faces, and black waving hair; these belonged to the nuns,

anxious to obtain a view of the stranger.  After kissing my

hand repeatedly, I moved on, and soon arrived at the south-west

end of this mountain of curiosities.  There I found the remains

of a large building, which seemed to have been originally

erected in the shape of a cross.  A tower at its eastern

entrance was still entire; the western side was quite in ruins,

and stood on the verge of the hill overlooking the valley, at

the bottom of which ran the stream I have spoken of on a former

occasion.



The day was intensely hot, notwithstanding the coldness

of the preceding nights; and the brilliant sun of Portugal now

illumined a landscape of entrancing beauty.  Groves of cork

trees covered the farther side of the valley and the distant

acclivities, exhibiting here and there charming vistas, where

various flocks of cattle were feeding; the soft murmur of the

stream, which was at intervals chafed and broken by huge

stones, ascended to my ears and filled my mind with delicious

feelings.  I sat down on the broken wall and remained gazing,

and listening, and shedding tears of rapture; for, of all the

pleasures which a bountiful God permitteth his children to

enjoy, none are so dear to some hearts as the music of forests,

and streams, and the view of the beauties of his glorious

creation.  An hour elapsed, and I still maintained my seat on

the wall; the past scenes of my life flitting before my eyes in

airy and fantastic array, through which every now and then

peeped trees and hills and other patches of the real landscape

which I was confronting; the sun burnt my visage, but I heeded

it not; and I believe that I should have remained till night,

buried in these reveries, which, I confess, only served to

enervate the mind, and steal many a minute which might be most

profitably employed, had not the report of the gun of a fowler

in the valley, which awakened the echoes of the woods, hills,

and ruins, caused me to start on my feet, and remember that I

had to proceed three leagues before I could reach the hostelry

where I intended to pass the night.



I bent my steps to the inn, passing along a kind of

rampart: shortly before I reached the portal, which I have

already mentioned, I observed a kind of vault on my right hand,

scooped out of the side of the hill; its roof was supported by

three pillars, though part of it had given way towards the

farther end, so that the light was admitted through a chasm in

the top.  It might have been intended for a chapel, a dungeon,

or a cemetery, but I should rather think for the latter; one

thing I am certain of, that it was not the work of Moorish

hands, and indeed throughout my wanderings in this place I saw

nothing which reminded me of that most singular people.  The

hill on which the ruins stand was doubtless originally a strong

fortress of the Moors, who, upon their first irruption into the

peninsula, seized and fortified most of the lofty and naturally

strong positions, but they had probably lost it at an early

period, so that the broken walls and edifices, which at present

cover the hill, are probably remains of the labours of the

Christians after the place had been rescued from the hands of

the terrible enemies of their faith.  Monte Moro will perhaps

recall Cintra to the mind of the traveller, as it exhibits a

distant resemblance to that place; nevertheless, there is

something in Cintra wild and savage, to which Monte Moro has no

pretension; its scathed and gigantic crags are piled upon each

other in a manner which seems to menace headlong destruction to

whatever is in the neighbourhood; and the ruins which still

cling to those crags seem more like eagles' nests than the

remains of the habitations even of Moors; whereas those of

Monte Moro stand comparatively at their ease on the broad back

of a hill, which, though stately and commanding, has no crags

nor precipices, and which can be ascended on every side without

much difficulty: yet I was much gratified by my visit, and I

shall wander far indeed before I forget the voice in the

dilapidated convent, the ruined walls amongst which I strayed,

and the rampart where, sunk in dreamy rapture, I sat during a

bright sunny hour at Monte Moro.



I returned to the inn, where I refreshed myself with tea

and very sweet and delicious cheesecakes, the handiwork of the

nuns in the convent above.  Observing gloom and unhappiness on

the countenances of the people of the house, I inquired the

reason of the hostess, who sat almost motionless, on the hearth

by the fire; whereupon she informed me that her husband was

deadly sick with a disorder which, from her description, I

supposed to be a species of cholera; she added, that the

surgeon who attended him entertained no hopes of his recovery.

I replied that it was quite in the power of God to restore her

husband in a few hours from the verge of the grave to health

and vigour, and that it was her duty to pray to that Omnipotent

Being with all fervency.  I added, that if she did not know how

to pray upon such an occasion, I was ready to pray for her,

provided she would join in the spirit of the supplication.  I

then offered up a short prayer in Portuguese, in which I

entreated the Lord to remove, if he thought proper, the burden

of affliction under which the family was labouring.



The woman listened attentively, with her hands devoutly

clasped, until the prayer was finished, and then gazed at me

seemingly with astonishment, but uttered no word by which I

could gather that she was pleased or displeased with what I had

said.  I now bade the family farewell, and having mounted my

mule, set forward to Arroyolos.







CHAPTER VII







The Druids' Stone - The Young Spaniard - Ruffianly Soldiers -

Evils of War - Estremoz - The Brawl - Ruined Watch Tower -

Glimpse of Spain - Old Times and New.





After proceeding about a league and a half, a blast came

booming from the north, rolling before it immense clouds of

dust; happily it did not blow in our faces, or it would have

been difficult to proceed, so great was its violence.  We had

left the road in order to take advantage of one of those short

cuts, which, though possible for a horse or a mule, are far too

rough to permit any species of carriage to travel along them.

We were in the midst of sands, brushwood, and huge pieces of

rock, which thickly studded the ground.  These are the stones

which form the sierras of Spain and Portugal; those singular

mountains which rise in naked horridness, like the ribs of some

mighty carcass from which the flesh has been torn.  Many of

these stones, or rocks, grew out of the earth, and many lay on

its surface unattached, perhaps wrested from their bed by the

waters of the deluge.  Whilst toiling along these wild wastes,

I observed, a little way to my left, a pile of stones of rather

a singular appearance, and rode up to it.  It was a druidical

altar, and the most perfect and beautiful one of the kind which

I had ever seen.  It was circular, and consisted of stones

immensely large and heavy at the bottom, which towards the top

became thinner and thinner, having been fashioned by the hand

of art to something of the shape of scollop shells.  These were

surmounted by a very large flat stone, which slanted down

towards the south, where was a door.  Three or four individuals

might have taken shelter within the interior, in which was

growing a small thorn tree.



I gazed with reverence and awe upon the pile where the

first colonies of Europe offered their worship to the unknown

God.  The temples of the mighty and skilful Roman,

comparatively of modern date, have crumbled to dust in its

neighbourhood.  The churches of the Arian Goth, his successor

in power, have sunk beneath the earth, and are not to be found;

and the mosques of the Moor, the conqueror of the Goth, where

and what are they?  Upon the rock, masses of hoary and

vanishing ruin.  Not so the Druids' stone; there it stands on

the hill of winds, as strong and as freshly new as the day,

perhaps thirty centuries back, when it was first raised, by

means which are a mystery.  Earthquakes have heaved it, but its

copestone has not fallen; rain floods have deluged it, but

failed to sweep it from its station; the burning sun has

flashed upon it, but neither split nor crumbled it; and time,

stern old time, has rubbed it with his iron tooth, and with

what effect let those who view it declare.  There it stands,

and he who wishes to study the literature, the learning, and

the history of the ancient Celt and Cymbrian, may gaze on its

broad covering, and glean from that blank stone the whole known

amount.  The Roman has left behind him his deathless writings,

his history, and his songs; the Goth his liturgy, his

traditions, and the germs of noble institutions; the Moor his

chivalry, his discoveries in medicine, and the foundations of

modern commerce; and where is the memorial of the Druidic

races?  Yonder: that pile of eternal stone!



We arrived at Arroyolos about seven at night.  I took

possession of a large two-bedded room, and, as I was preparing

to sit down to supper, the hostess came to inquire whether I

had any objection to receive a young Spaniard for the night.

She said he had just arrived with a train of muleteers, and

that she had no other room in which she could lodge him.  I

replied that I was willing, and in about half an hour he made

his appearance, having first supped with his companions.  He

was a very gentlemanly, good-looking lad of seventeen.  He

addressed me in his native language, and, finding that I

understood him, he commenced talking with astonishing

volubility.  In the space of five minutes he informed me that,

having a desire to see the world, he had run away from his

friends, who were people of opulence at Madrid, and that he did

not intend to return until he had travelled through various

countries.  I told him that if what he said was true, he had

done a very wicked and foolish action; wicked, because he must

have overwhelmed those with grief whom he was bound to honour

and love, and foolish, inasmuch as he was going to expose

himself to inconceivable miseries and hardships, which would

shortly cause him to rue the step he had taken; that he would

be only welcome in foreign countries so long as he had money to

spend, and when he had none, he would be repulsed as a

vagabond, and would perhaps be allowed to perish of hunger.  He

replied that he had a considerable sum of money with him, no

less than a hundred dollars, which would last him a long time,

and that when it was spent he should perhaps be able to obtain

more.  "Your hundred dollars," said I, "will scarcely last you

three months in the country in which you are, even if it be not

stolen from you; and you may as well hope to gather money on

the tops of the mountains as expect to procure more by

honourable means."  But he had not yet sufficiently drank of

the cup of experience to attend much to what I said, and I soon

after changed the subject.  About five next morning he came to

my bedside to take leave, as his muleteers were preparing to

depart.  I gave him the usual Spanish valediction (VAYA USTED

CON DIOS), and saw no more of him.



At nine, after having paid a most exorbitant sum for

slight accommodation, I started from Arroyolos, which is a town

or large village situated on very elevated ground, and

discernible afar off.  It can boast of the remains of a large

ancient and seemingly Moorish castle, which stands on a hill on

the left as you take the road to Estremoz.



About a mile from Arroyolos I overtook a train of carts

escorted by a number of Portuguese soldiers, conveying stores

and ammunition into Spain.  Six or seven of these soldiers

marched a considerable way in front; they were villainous

looking ruffians upon whose livid and ghastly countenances were

written murder, and all the other crimes which the decalogue

forbids.  As I passed by, one of them, with a harsh, croaking

voice, commenced cursing all foreigners.  "There," said he, "is

this Frenchman riding on horseback" (I was on a mule), "with a

man" (the idiot) "to take care of him, and all because he is

rich; whilst I, who am a poor soldier, am obliged to tramp on

foot.  I could find it in my heart to shoot him dead, for in

what respect is he better than I?  But he is a foreigner, and

the devil helps foreigners and hates the Portuguese."  He

continued shouting his remarks until I got about forty yards in

advance, when I commenced laughing; but it would have been more

prudent in me to have held my peace, for the next moment, with

bang - bang, two bullets, well aimed, came whizzing past my

ears.  A small river lay just before me, though the bridge was

a considerable way on my left.  I spurred my animal through it,

closely followed by my terrified guide, and commenced galloping

along a sandy plain on the other side, and so escaped with my

life.



These fellows, with the look of banditti, were in no

respect better; and the traveller who should meet them in a

solitary place would have little reason to bless his good

fortune.  One of the carriers (all of whom were Spaniards from

the neighbourhood of Badajoz, and had been despatched into

Portugal for the purpose of conveying the stores), whom I

afterwards met in the aforesaid town, informed me that the

whole party were equally bad, and that he and his companions

had been plundered by them of various articles, and threatened

with death if they attempted to complain.  How frightful to

figure to oneself an army of such beings in a foreign land,

sent thither either to invade or defend; and yet Spain, at the

time I am writing this, is looking forward to armed assistance

from Portugal.  May the Lord in his mercy grant that the

soldiers who proceed to her assistance may be of a different

stamp: and yet, from the lax state of discipline which exists

in the Portuguese army, in comparison with that of England and

France, I am afraid that the inoffensive population of the

disturbed provinces will say that wolves have been summoned to

chase away foxes from the sheepfold.  O! may I live to see the

day when soldiery will no longer be tolerated in any civilized,

or at least Christian, country!



I pursued my route to Estremoz, passing by Monte Moro

Novo, which is a tall dusky hill, surmounted by an ancient

edifice, probably Moorish.  The country was dreary and

deserted, but offering here and there a valley studded with

cork trees and azinheiras.  After midday the wind, which during

the night and morning had much abated, again blew with such

violence as nearly to deprive me of my senses, though it was

still in our rear.



I was heartily glad when, on ascending a rising ground,

at about four o'clock, I saw Estremoz on its hill at something

less than a league's distance.  Here the view became wildly

interesting; the sun was sinking in the midst of red and stormy

clouds, and its rays were reflected on the dun walls of the

lofty town to which we were wending.  Nor far distant to the

south-west rose Serra Dorso, which I had seen from Evora, and

which is the most beautiful mountain in the Alemtejo.  My idiot

guide turned his uncouth visage towards it, and becoming

suddenly inspired, opened his mouth for the first time during

the day, I might almost say since we had left Aldea Gallega,

and began to tell me what rare hunting was to be obtained in

that mountain.  He likewise described with great minuteness a

wonderful dog, which was kept in the neighbourhood for the

purpose of catching the wolves and wild boars, and for which

the proprietor had refused twenty moidores.



At length we reached Estremoz, and took up our quarters

at the principal inn, which looks upon a large plain or market-

place occupying the centre of the town, and which is so

extensive that I should think ten thousand soldiers at least

might perform their evolutions there with case.



The cold was far too terrible to permit me to remain in

the chamber to which I had been conducted; I therefore went

down to a kind of kitchen on one side of the arched passage,

which led under the house to the yard and stables.  A

tremendous withering blast poured through this passage, like

the water through the flush of a mill.  A large cork tree was

blazing in the kitchen beneath a spacious chimney; and around

it were gathered a noisy crew of peasants and farmers from the

neighbourhood, and three or four Spanish smugglers from the

frontier.  I with difficulty obtained a place amongst them, as

a Portuguese or a Spaniard will seldom make way for a stranger,

till called upon or pushed aside, but prefers gazing upon him

with an expression which seems to say, I know what you want,

but I prefer remaining where I am.



I now first began to observe an alteration in the

language spoken; it had become less sibilant, and more

guttural; and, when addressing each other, the speakers used

the Spanish title of courtesy USTED, or your worthiness,

instead of the Portuguese high flowing VOSSEM SE, or your

lordship.  This is the result of constant communication with

the natives of Spain, who never condescend to speak Portuguese,

even when in Portugal, but persist in the use of their own

beautiful language, which, perhaps, at some future period, the

Portuguese will generally adopt.  This would greatly facilitate

the union of the two countries, hitherto kept asunder by the

natural waywardness of mankind.



I had not been seated long before the blazing pile, when

a fellow, mounted on a fine spirited horse, dashed from the

stables through the passage into the kitchen, where he

commenced displaying his horsemanship, by causing the animal to

wheel about with the velocity of a millstone, to the great

danger of everybody in the apartment.  He then galloped out

upon the plain, and after half an hour's absence returned, and

having placed his horse once more in the stable, came and

seated himself next to me, to whom he commenced talking in a

gibberish of which I understood very little, but which he

intended for French.  He was half intoxicated, and soon became

three parts so, by swallowing glass after glass of aguardiente.

Finding that I made him no answer, he directed his discourse to

one of the contrabandistas, to whom he talked in bad Spanish.

The latter either did not or would not understand him; but at

last, losing patience, called him a drunkard, and told him to

hold his tongue.  The fellow, enraged at this contempt, flung

the glass out of which he was drinking at the Spaniard's head,

who sprang up like a tiger, and unsheathing instantly a snick

and snee knife, made an upward cut at the fellow's cheek, and

would have infallibly laid it open, had I not pulled his arm

down just in time to prevent worse effects than a scratch above

the lower jawbone, which, however, drew blood.



The smuggler's companions interfered, and with much

difficulty led him off to a small apartment in the rear of the

house, where they slept, and kept the furniture of their mules.

The drunkard then commenced singing, or rather yelling, the

Marseillois hymn; and after having annoyed every one for nearly

an hour, was persuaded to mount his horse and depart,

accompanied by one of his neighbours.  He was a pig merchant of

the vicinity, but had formerly been a trooper in the army of

Napoleon, where, I suppose, like the drunken coachman of Evora,

he had picked up his French and his habits of intoxication.



From Estremoz to Elvas the distance is six leagues.  I

started at nine next morning; the first part of the way lay

through an enclosed country, but we soon emerged upon wild

bleak downs, over which the wind, which still pursued us,

howled most mournfully.  We met no one on the route; and the

scene was desolate in the extreme; the heaven was of a dark

grey, through which no glimpse of the sun was to be perceived.

Before us, at a great distance, on an elevated ground, rose a

tower - the only object which broke the monotony of the waste.

In about two hours from the time when we first discovered it,

we reached a fountain, at the foot of the hill on which it

stood; the water, which gushed into a long stone trough, was

beautifully clear and transparent, and we stopped here to water

the animals.



Having dismounted, I left the guide, and proceeded to

ascend the hill on which the tower stood.  Though the ascent

was very gentle I did not accomplish it without difficulty; the

ground was covered with sharp stones, which, in two or three

instances, cut through my boots and wounded my feet; and the

distance was much greater than I had expected.  I at last

arrived at the ruin, for such it was.  I found it had been one

of those watch towers or small fortresses called in Portuguese

ATALAIAS; it was square, and surrounded by a wall, broken down

in many places.  The tower itself had no door, the lower part

being of solid stone work; but on one side were crevices at

intervals between the stones, for the purpose of placing the

feet, and up this rude staircase I climbed to a small

apartment, about five feet square, from which the top had

fallen.  It commanded an extensive view from all sides, and had

evidently been built for the accommodation of those whose

business it was to keep watch on the frontier, and at the

appearance of an enemy to alarm the country by signals -

probably by a fire.  Resolute men might have defended

themselves in this little fastness against many assailants, who

must have been completely exposed to their arrows or musketry

in the ascent.



Being about to leave the place, I heard a strange cry

behind a part of the wall which I had not visited, and

hastening thither, I found a miserable object in rags, seated

upon a stone.  It was a maniac - a man about thirty years of

age, and I believe deaf and dumb; there he sat, gibbering and

mowing, and distorting his wild features into various dreadful

appearances.  There wanted nothing but this object to render

the scene complete; banditti amongst such melancholy desolation

would have been by no means so much in keeping.  But the

maniac, on his stone, in the rear of the wind-beaten ruin,

overlooking the blasted heath, above which scowled the leaden

heaven, presented such a picture of gloom and misery as I

believe neither painter nor poet ever conceived in the saddest

of their musings.  This is not the first instance in which it

has been my lot to verify the wisdom of the saying, that truth

is sometimes wilder than fiction.



I remounted my mule, and proceeded till, on the top of

another hill, my guide suddenly exclaimed, "there is Elvas."  I

looked in the direction in which he pointed, and beheld a town

perched on the top of a lofty hill.  On the other side of a

deep valley towards the left rose another hill, much higher, on

the top of which is the celebrated fort of Elvas, believed to

be the strongest place in Portugal.  Through the opening

between the fort and the town, but in the background and far in

Spain, I discerned the misty sides and cloudy head of a stately

mountain, which I afterwards learned was Albuquerque, one of

the loftiest of Estremadura.



We now got into a cultivated country, and following the

road, which wound amongst hedge-rows, we arrived at a place

where the ground began gradually to shelve down.  Here, on the

right, was the commencement of an aqueduct by means of which

the town on the opposite hill was supplied; it was at this

point scarcely two feet in altitude, but, as we descended, it

became higher and higher, and its proportions more colossal.

Near the bottom of the valley it took a turn to the left,

bestriding the road with one of its arches.  I looked up, after

passing under it; the water must have been flowing near a

hundred feet above my head, and I was filled with wonder at the

immensity of the structure which conveyed it.  There was,

however, one feature which was no slight drawback to its

pretensions to grandeur and magnificence; the water was

supported not by gigantic single arches, like those of the

aqueduct of Lisbon, which stalk over the valley like legs of

Titans, but by three layers of arches, which, like three

distinct aqueducts, rise above each other.  The expense and

labour necessary for the erection of such a structure must have

been enormous; and, when we reflect with what comparative ease

modern art would confer the same advantage, we cannot help

congratulating ourselves that we live in times when it is not

necessary to exhaust the wealth of a province to supply a town

on a hill with one of the first necessaries of existence.







CHAPTER VIII







Elvas - Extraordinary Longevity - The English Nation -

Portuguese Ingratitude - Illiberality - Fortifications -

Spanish Beggar - Badajoz - The Custom House.





Arrived at the gate of Elvas, an officer came out of a

kind of guard house, and, having asked me some questions,

despatched a soldier with me to the police office, that my

passport might be viseed, as upon the frontier they are much

more particular with respect to passports than in other parts.

This matter having been settled, I entered an hostelry near the

same gate, which had been recommended to me by my host at

Vendas Novas, and which was kept by a person of the name of

Joze Rosado.  It was the best in the town, though, for

convenience and accommodation, inferior to a hedge alehouse in

England.  The cold still pursued me, and I was glad to take

refuge in an inner kitchen, which, when the door was not open,

was only lighted by a fire burning somewhat dimly on the

hearth.  An elderly female sat beside it in her chair, telling

her beads: there was something singular and extraordinary in

her look, as well as I could discern by the imperfect light of

the apartment.  I put a few unimportant questions to her, to

which she replied, but seemed to be afflicted to a slight

degree with deafness.  Her hair was becoming grey, and I said

that I believed she was older than myself, but that I was

confident she had less snow on her head.



"How old may you be, cavalier?" said she, giving me that

title which in Spain is generally used when an extra-ordinary

degree of respect is wished to be exhibited.  I answered that I

was near thirty.  "Then," said she, "you were right in

supposing that I am older than yourself; I am older than your

mother, or your mother's mother: it is more than a hundred

years since I was a girl, and sported with the daughters of the

town on the hillside."  "In that case," said I, "you doubtless

remember the earthquake."  "Yes," she replied, "if there is any

occurrence in my life that I remember, it is that: I was in the

church of Elvas at the moment, hearing the mass of the king,

and the priest fell on the ground, and let fall the Host from

his hands.  I shall never forget how the earth shook; it made

us all sick; and the houses and walls reeled like drunkards.

Since that happened I have seen fourscore years pass by me, yet

I was older then than you are now."



I looked with wonder at this surprising female, and could

scarcely believe her words.  I was, however, assured that she

was in fact upwards of a hundred and ten years of age, and was

considered the oldest person in Portugal.  She still retained

the use of her faculties in as full a degree as the generality

of people who have scarcely attained the half of her age.  She

was related to the people of the house.



As the night advanced, several persons entered for the

purpose of enjoying the comfort of the fire and for the sake of

conversation, for the house was a kind of news room, where the

principal speaker was the host, a man of some shrewdness and

experience, who had served as a soldier in the British army.

Amongst others was the officer who commanded at the gate.

After a few observations, this gentleman, who was a good-

looking young man of five-and-twenty, began to burst forth in

violent declamation against the English nation and government,

who, he said, had at all times proved themselves selfish and

deceitful, but that their present conduct in respect to Spain

was particularly infamous, for though it was in their power to

put an end to the war at once, by sending a large army thither,

they preferred sending a handful of troops, in order that the

war might be prolonged, for no other reason than that it was of

advantage to them.  Having paid him an ironical compliment for

his politeness and urbanity, I asked whether he reckoned

amongst the selfish actions of the English government and

nation, their having expended hundreds of millions of pounds

sterling, and an ocean of precious blood, in fighting the

battles of Spain and Portugal against Napoleon.  "Surely," said

I, "the fort of Elvas above our heads, and still more the

castle of Badajoz over the water, speak volumes respecting

English selfishness, and must, every time you view them,

confirm you in the opinion which you have just expressed.  And

then, with respect to the present combat in Spain, the

gratitude which that country evinced to England after the

French, by means of English armies, had been expelled, -

gratitude evinced by discouraging the trade of England on all

occasions, and by offering up masses in thanksgiving when the

English heretics quitted the Spanish shores, - ought now to

induce England to exhaust and ruin herself, for the sake of

hunting Don Carlos out of his mountains.  In deference to your

superior judgment," continued I to the officer, "I will

endeavour to believe that it would be for the advantage of

England were the war prolonged for an indefinite period;

nevertheless, you would do me a particular favour by explaining

by what process in chemistry blood shed in Spain will find its

way into the English treasury in the shape of gold."



As he was not ready with his answer, I took up a plate of

fruit which stood on the table beside me, and said, "What do

you call these fruits?"  "Pomegranates and bolotas," he

replied.  "Right," said I, "a home-bred Englishman could not

have given me that answer; yet he is as much acquainted with

pomegranates and bolotas as your lordship is with the line of

conduct which it is incumbent upon England to pursue in her

foreign and domestic policy."



This answer of mine, I confess, was not that of a

Christian, and proved to me how much of the leaven of the

ancient man still pervaded me; yet I must be permitted to add,

that I believe no other provocation would have elicited from me

a reply so full of angry feeling: but I could not command

myself when I heard my own glorious land traduced in this

unmerited manner.  By whom?  A Portuguese!  A native of a

country which has been twice liberated from horrid and

detestable thraldom by the hands of Englishmen.  But for

Wellington and his heroes, Portugal would have been French at

this day; but for Napier and his mariners, Miguel would now be

lording it in Lisbon.  To return, however, to the officer;

every one laughed at him, and he presently went away.



The next day I became acquainted with a respectable

tradesman of the name of Almeida, a man of talent, though

rather rough in his manners.  He expressed great abhorrence of

the papal system, which had so long spread a darkness like that

of death over his unfortunate country, and I had no sooner

informed him that I had brought with me a certain quantity of

Testaments, which it was my intention to leave for sale at

Elvas, than he expressed a great desire to undertake the

charge, and said that he would do the utmost in his power to

procure a sale for them amongst his numerous customers.  Upon

showing him a copy, I remarked, your name is upon the title

page; the Portuguese version of the Holy Scriptures, circulated

by the Bible Society, having been executed by a Protestant of

the name of Almeida, and first published in the year 1712;

whereupon he smiled, and observed that he esteemed it an honour

to be connected in name at least with such a man.  He scoffed

at the idea of receiving any remuneration, and assured me that

the feeling of being permitted to co-operate in so holy and

useful a cause as the circulation of the Scriptures was quite a

sufficient reward.



After having accomplished this matter, I proceeded to

survey the environs of the place, and strolled up the hill to

the fort on the north side of the town.  The lower part of the

hill is planted with azinheiras, which give it a picturesque

appearance, and at the bottom is a small brook, which I crossed

by means of stepping stones.  Arrived at the gate of the fort,

I was stopped by the sentry, who, however, civilly told me,

that if I sent in my name to the commanding officer he would

make no objection to my visiting the interior.  I accordingly

sent in my card by a soldier who was lounging about, and,

sitting down on a stone, waited his return.  He presently

appeared, and inquired whether I was an Englishman; to which,

having replied in the affirmative, he said, "In that case, sir,

you cannot enter; indeed, it is not the custom to permit any

foreigners to visit the fort."  I answered that it was

perfectly indifferent to me whether I visited it or not; and,

having taken a survey of Badajoz from the eastern side of the

hill, descended by the way I came.



This is one of the beneficial results of protecting a

nation and squandering blood and treasure in its defence.  The

English, who have never been at war with Portugal, who have

fought for its independence on land and sea, and always with

success, who have forced themselves by a treaty of commerce to

drink its coarse and filthy wines, which no other nation cares

to taste, are the most unpopular people who visit Portugal.

The French have ravaged the country with fire and sword, and

shed the blood of its sons like water; the French buy not its

fruits and loathe its wines, yet there is no bad spirit in

Portugal towards the French.  The reason of this is no mystery;

it is the nature not of the Portuguese only, but of corrupt and

unregenerate man, to dislike his benefactors, who, by

conferring benefits upon him, mortify in the most generous

manner his miserable vanity.



There is no country in which the English are so popular

as in France; but, though the French have been frequently

roughly handled by the English, and have seen their capital

occupied by an English army, they have never been subjected to

the supposed ignominy of receiving assistance from them.



The fortifications of Elvas are models of their kind,

and, at the first view, it would seem that the town, if well

garrisoned, might bid defiance to any hostile power; but it has

its weak point: the western side is commanded by a hill, at the

distance of half a mile, from which an experienced general

would cannonade it, and probably with success.  It is the last

town in this part of Portugal, the distance to the Spanish

frontier being barely two leagues.  It was evidently built as a

rival to Badajoz, upon which it looks down from its height

across a sandy plain and over the sullen waters of the

Guadiana; but, though a strong town, it can scarcely be called

a defence to the frontier, which is open on all sides, so that

there would not be the slightest necessity for an invading army

to approach within a dozen leagues of its walls, should it be

disposed to avoid them.  Its fortifications are so extensive

that ten thousand men at least would be required to man them,

who, in the event of an invasion, might be far better employed

in meeting the enemy in the open field.  The French, during

their occupation of Portugal, kept a small force in this place,

who, at the approach of the British, retreated to the fort,

where they shortly after capitulated.



Having nothing farther to detain me at Elvas, I proceeded

to cross the frontier into Spain.  My idiot guide was on his

way back to Aldea Gallega; and, on the fifth of January, I

mounted a sorry mule without bridle or stirrups, which I guided

by a species of halter, and followed by a lad who was to attend

me on another, I spurred down the hill of Elvas to the plain,

eager to arrive in old chivalrous romantic Spain.  But I soon

found that I had no need to quicken the beast which bore me,

for though covered with sores, wall-eyed, and with a kind of

halt in its gait, it cantered along like the wind.



In little more than half an hour we arrived at a brook,

whose waters ran vigorously between steep banks.  A man who was

standing on the side directed me to the ford in the squeaking

dialect of Portugal; but whilst I was yet splashing through the

water, a voice from the other bank hailed me, in the

magnificent language of Spain, in this guise: "O SENOR

CABALLERO, QUE ME DE USTED UNA LIMOSNA POR AMOR DE DIOS, UNA

LIMOSNITA PARA QUE IO ME COMPRE UN TRAGUILLO DE VINO TINTO"

(Charity, Sir Cavalier, for the love of God, bestow an alms

upon me, that I may purchase a mouthful of red wine).  In a

moment I was on Spanish ground, as the brook, which is called

Acaia, is the boundary here of the two kingdoms, and having

flung the beggar a small piece of silver, I cried in ecstasy

"SANTIAGO Y CIERRA ESPANA!" and scoured on my way with more

speed than before, paying, as Gil Blas says, little heed to the

torrent of blessings which the mendicant poured forth in my

rear: yet never was charity more unwisely bestowed, for I was

subsequently informed that the fellow was a confirmed drunkard,

who took his station every morning at the ford, where he

remained the whole day for the purpose of extorting money from

the passengers, which he regularly spent every night in the

wine-shops of Badajoz.  To those who gave him money he returned

blessings, and to those who refused, curses; being equally

skilled and fluent in the use of either.



Badajoz was now in view, at the distance of little more

than half a league.  We soon took a turn to the left, towards a

bridge of many arches across the Guadiana, which, though so

famed in song and ballad, is a very unpicturesque stream,

shallow and sluggish, though tolerably wide; its banks were

white with linen which the washer- women had spread out to dry

in the sun, which was shining brightly; I heard their singing

at a great distance, and the theme seemed to be the praises of

the river where they were toiling, for as I approached, I could

distinguish Guadiana, Guadiana, which reverberated far and

wide, pronounced by the clear and strong voices of many a dark-

checked maid and matron.  I thought there was some analogy

between their employment and my own: I was about to tan my

northern complexion by exposing myself to the hot sun of Spain,

in the humble hope of being able to cleanse some of the foul

stains of Popery from the minds of its children, with whom I

had little acquaintance, whilst they were bronzing themselves

on the banks of the river in order to make white the garments

of strangers: the words of an eastern poet returned forcibly to

my mind.





"I'll weary myself each night and each day,

To aid my unfortunate brothers;

As the laundress tans her own face in the ray,

To cleanse the garments of others."





Having crossed the bridge, we arrived at the northern

gate, when out rushed from a species of sentry box a fellow

wearing on his head a high-peaked Andalusian hat, with his

figure wrapped up in one of those immense cloaks so well known

to those who have travelled in Spain, and which none but a

Spaniard can wear in a becoming manner: without saying a word,

he laid hold of the halter of the mule, and began to lead it

through the gate up a dirty street, crowded with long-cloaked

people like himself.  I asked him what he meant, but he deigned

not to return an answer, the boy, however, who waited upon me

said that it was one of the gate-keepers, and that he was

conducting us to the Custom House or Alfandega, where the

baggage would be examined.  Having arrived there, the fellow,

who still maintained a dogged silence, began to pull the trunks

off the sumpter mule, and commenced uncording them.  I was

about to give him a severe reproof for his brutality, but

before I could open my mouth a stout elderly personage appeared

at the door, who I soon found was the principal officer.  He

looked at me for a moment and then asked me, in the English

language, if I was an Englishman.  On my replying in the

affirmative, he demanded of the fellow how he dared to have the

insolence to touch the baggage, without orders, and sternly

bade him cord up the trunks again and place them on the mule,

which he performed without uttering a word.  The gentleman then

asked what the trunks contained: I answered clothes and linen;

when he begged pardon for the insolence of the subordinate, and

informed him that I was at liberty to proceed where I thought

proper.  I thanked him for his exceeding politeness, and, under

guidance of the boy, made the best of my way to the Inn of the

Three Nations, to which I had been recommended at Elvas.







CHAPTER IX







Badajoz - Antonio the Gypsy - Antonio's Proposal - The Proposal Accepted -

Gypsy Breakfast - Departure from Badajoz - The Gypsy Donkey - Merida -

The Ruined Wall - The Crone - The Land of the Moor - The Black Men -

Life in the Desert - The Supper.





I was now at Badajoz in Spain, a country which for the

next four years was destined to be the scene of my labour: but

I will not anticipate.  The neighbourhood of Badajoz did not

prepossess me much in favour of the country which I had just

entered; it consists chiefly of brown moors, which bear little

but a species of brushwood, called in Spanish CARRASCO; blue

mountains are however seen towering up in the far distance,

which relieve the scene from the monotony which would otherwise

pervade it.



It was at this town of Badajoz, the capital of

Estremadura, that I first fell in with those singular people,

the Zincali, Gitanos, or Spanish gypsies.  It was here I met

with the wild Paco, the man with the withered arm, who wielded

the cachas (SHEARS) with his left hand; his shrewd wife,

Antonia, skilled in hokkano baro, or the great trick; the

fierce gypsy, Antonio Lopez, their father-in-law; and many

other almost equally singular individuals of the Errate, or

gypsy blood.  It was here that I first preached the gospel to

the gypsy people, and commenced that translation of the New

Testament in the Spanish gypsy tongue, a portion of which I

subsequently printed at Madrid.



After a stay of three weeks at Badajoz, I prepared to

depart for Madrid: late one afternoon, as I was arranging my

scanty baggage, the gypsy Antonio entered my apartment, dressed

in his zamarra and high-peaked Andalusian hat.



ANTONIO. - Good evening, brother; they tell me that on

the callicaste (DAY AFTER TO-MORROW) you intend to set out for

Madrilati.



MYSELF. - Such is my intention; I can stay here no

longer.



ANTONIO. - The way is far to Madrilati: there are,

moreover, wars in the land and many chories (THIEVES) walk

about; are you not afraid to journey?



MYSELF. - I have no fears; every man must accomplish his

destiny: what befalls my body or soul was written in a gabicote

(BOOK) a thousand years before the foundation of the world.



ANTONIO. - I have no fears myself, brother; the dark

night is the same to me as the fair day, and the wild carrascal

as the market-place or the chardy (FAIR); I have got the bar

lachi in my bosom, the precious stone to which sticks the

needle.



MYSELF. - You mean the loadstone, I suppose.  Do you

believe that a lifeless stone can preserve you from the dangers

which occasionally threaten your life?



ANTONIO. - Brother, I am fifty years old, and you see me

standing before you in life and strength; how could that be

unless the bar lachi had power?  I have been soldier and

contrabandista, and I have likewise slain and robbed the Busne.

The bullets of the Gabine (FRENCH) and of the jara canallis

(REVENUE OFFICERS) have hissed about my ears without injuring

me, for I carried the bar lachi.  I have twenty times done that

which by Busnee law should have brought me to the filimicha

(GALLOWS), yet my neck has never yet been squeezed by the cold

garrote.  Brother, I trust in the bar lachi, like the Calore of

old: were I in the midst of the gulph of Bombardo (LYONS),

without a plank to float upon, I should feel no fear; for if I

carried the precious stone, it would bring me safe to shore:

the bar lachi has power, brother.



MYSELF. - I shall not dispute the matter with you, more

especially as I am about to depart from Badajoz: I must

speedily bid you farewell, and we shall see each other no more.



ANTONIO. - Brother, do you know what brings me hither?



MYSELF. - I cannot tell, unless it be to wish me a happy

journey: I am not gypsy enough to interpret the thoughts of

other people.



ANTONIO. - All last night I lay awake, thinking of the

affairs of Egypt; and when I arose in the morning I took the

bar lachi from my bosom, and scraping it with a knife,

swallowed some of the dust in aguardiente, as I am in the habit

of doing when I have made up my mind; and I said to myself, I

am wanted on the frontiers of Castumba (CASTILE) on a certain

matter.  The strange Caloro is about to proceed to Madrilati;

the journey is long, and he may fall into evil hands,

peradventure into those of his own blood; for let me tell you,

brother, the Cales are leaving their towns and villages, and

forming themselves into troops to plunder the Busne, for there

is now but little law in the land, and now or never is the time

for the Calore to become once more what they were in former

times; so I said, the strange Caloro may fall into the hands of

his own blood and be ill-treated by them, which were shame: I

will therefore go with him through the Chim del Manro

(ESTREMADURA) as far as the frontiers of Castumba, and upon the

frontiers of Castumba I will leave the London Caloro to find

his own way to Madrilati, for there is less danger in Castumba

than in the Chim del Manro, and I will then betake me to the

affairs of Egypt which call me from hence.



MYSELF. - This is a very hopeful plan of yours, my

friend; and in what manner do you propose that we shall travel?



ANTONIO. - I will tell you, brother; I have a gras in the

stall, even the one which I purchased at Olivencas, as I told

you on a former occasion; it is good and fleet, and cost me,

who am a gypsy, fifty chule (DOLLARS); upon that gras you shall

ride.  As for myself, I will journey upon the macho.



MYSELF. - Before I answer you, I shall wish you to inform

me what business it is which renders your presence necessary in

Castumba; your son-in-law, Paco, told me that it was no longer

the custom of the gypsies to wander.



ANTONIO. - It is an affair of Egypt, brother, and I shall

not acquaint you with it; peradventure it relates to a horse or

an ass, or peradventure it relates to a mule or a macho; it

does not relate to yourself, therefore I advise you not to

inquire about it - Dosta (ENOUGH).  With respect to my offer,

you are free to decline it; there is a drungruje (ROYAL ROAD)

between here and Madrilati, and you can travel it in the

birdoche (STAGE-COACH) or with the dromale (MULETEERS); but I

tell you, as a brother, that there are chories upon the drun,

and some of them are of the Errate.



Certainly few people in my situation would have accepted

the offer of this singular gypsy.  It was not, however, without

its allurements for me; I was fond of adventure, and what more

ready means of gratifying my love of it than by putting myself

under the hands of such a guide.  There are many who would have

been afraid of treachery, but I had no fears on this point, as

I did not believe that the fellow harboured the slightest ill

intention towards me; I saw that he was fully convinced that I

was one of the Errate, and his affection for his own race, and

his hatred for the Busne, were his strongest characteristics.

I wished, moreover, to lay hold of every opportunity of making

myself acquainted with the ways of the Spanish gypsies, and an

excellent one here presented itself on my first entrance into

Spain.  In a word, I determined to accompany the gypsy.  "I

will go with you," I exclaimed; "as for my baggage, I will

despatch it to Madrid by the birdoche."  "Do so, brother," he

replied, "and the gras will go lighter.  Baggage, indeed! -

what need of baggage have you?  How the Busne on the road would

laugh if they saw two Cales with baggage behind them."



During my stay at Badajoz, I had but little intercourse

with the Spaniards, my time being chiefly devoted to the

gypsies, with whom, from long intercourse with various sections

of their race in different parts of the world, I felt myself

much more at home than with the silent, reserved men of Spain,

with whom a foreigner might mingle for half a century without

having half a dozen words addressed to him, unless he himself

made the first advances to intimacy, which, after all, might be

rejected with a shrug and a NO INTENDO; for, among the many

deeply rooted prejudices of these people, is the strange idea

that no foreigner can speak their language; an idea to which

they will still cling though they hear him conversing with

perfect ease; for in that case the utmost that they will

concede to his attainments is, HABLA QUATRO PALABRAS Y NADA MAS

(he can speak four words, and no more).



Early one morning, before sunrise, I found myself at the

house of Antonio; it was a small mean building, situated in a

dirty street.  The morning was quite dark; the street, however,

was partially illumined by a heap of lighted straw, round which

two or three men were busily engaged, apparently holding an

object over the flames.  Presently the gypsy's door opened, and

Antonio made his appearance; and, casting his eye in the

direction of the light, exclaimed, "The swine have killed their

brother; would that every Busno was served as yonder hog is.

Come in, brother, and we will eat the heart of that hog."  I

scarcely understood his words, but, following him, he led me

into a low room in which was a brasero, or small pan full of

lighted charcoal; beside it was a rude table, spread with a

coarse linen cloth, upon which was bread and a large pipkin

full of a mess which emitted no disagreeable savour.  "The

heart of the balichow is in that puchera," said Antonio; "eat,

brother."  We both sat down and ate, Antonio voraciously.  When

we had concluded he arose:- "Have you got your LI?" he

demanded.  "Here it is," said I, showing him my passport.

"Good," said he, "you may want it; I want none, my passport is

the bar lachi.  Now for a glass of repani, and then for the

road."



We left the room, the door of which he locked, hiding the

key beneath a loose brick in a corner of the passage.  "Go into

the street, brother, whilst I fetch the caballerias from the

stable."  I obeyed him.  The sun had not yet risen, and the air

was piercingly cold; the grey light, however, of dawn enabled

me to distinguish objects with tolerable accuracy; I soon heard

the clattering of the animals' feet, and Antonio presently

stepped forth leading the horse by the bridle; the macho

followed behind.  I looked at the horse and shrugged my

shoulders: as far as I could scan it, it appeared the most

uncouth animal I had ever beheld.  It was of a spectral white,

short in the body, but with remarkably long legs.  I observed

that it was particularly high in the cruz or withers.  "You are

looking at the grasti," said Antonio; "it is eighteen years

old, but it is the very best in the Chim del Manro; I have long

had my eye upon it; I bought it for my own use for the affairs

of Egypt.  Mount, brother, mount and let us leave the foros -

the gate is about being opened."



He locked the door, and deposited the key in his faja.

In less than a quarter of an hour we had left the town behind

us.  "This does not appear to be a very good horse," said I to

Antonio, as we proceeded over the plain.  "It is with

difficulty that I can make him move."



"He is the swiftest horse in the Chim del Manro,

brother," said Antonio; "at the gallop and at the speedy trot

there is no one to match him; but he is eighteen years old, and

his joints are stiff, especially of a morning; but let him once

become heated and the genio del viejo (SPIRIT OF THE OLD MAN)

comes upon him and there is no holding him in with bit or

bridle.  I bought that horse for the affairs of Egypt,

brother."



About noon we arrived at a small village in the

neighbourhood of a high lumpy hill.  "There is no Calo house in

this place," said Antonio; "we will therefore go to the posada

of the Busne, and refresh ourselves, man and beast."  We

entered the kitchen and sat down at the boards, calling for

wine and bread.  There were two ill-looking fellows in the

kitchen, smoking cigars; I said something to Antonio in the

Calo language.



"What is that I hear?" said one of the fellows, who was

distinguished by an immense pair of moustaches.  "What is that

I hear? is it in Calo that you are speaking before me, and I a

Chalan and national?  Accursed gypsy, how dare you enter this

posada and speak before me in that speech?  Is it not forbidden

by the law of the land in which we are, even as it is forbidden

for a gypsy to enter the mercado?  I tell you what, friend, if

I hear another word of Calo come from your mouth, I will cudgel

your bones and send you flying over the house-tops with a kick

of my foot."



"You would do right," said his companion; "the insolence

of these gypsies is no longer to be borne.  When I am at Merida

or Badajoz I go to the mercado, and there in a corner stand the

accursed gypsies jabbering to each other in a speech which I

understand not.  `Gypsy gentleman,' say I to one of them, `what

will you have for that donkey?'  `I will have ten dollars for

it, Caballero nacional,' says the gypsy; `it is the best donkey

in all Spain.'  `I should like to see its paces,' say I.  `That

you shall, most valorous!' says the gypsy, and jumping upon its

back, he puts it to its paces, first of all whispering

something into its ears in Calo, and truly the paces of the

donkey are most wonderful, such as I have never seen before.

`I think it will just suit me,' and after looking at it awhile,

I take out the money and pay for it.  `I shall go to my house,'

says the gypsy; and off he runs.  `I shall go to my village,'

say I, and I mount the donkey.  `Vamonos,' say I, but the

donkey won't move.  I give him a switch, but I don't get on the

better for that.  `How is this?' say I, and I fall to spurring

him.  What happens then, brother?  The wizard no sooner feels

the prick than he bucks down, and flings me over his head into

the mire.  I get up and look about me; there stands the donkey

staring at me, and there stand the whole gypsy canaille

squinting at me with their filmy eyes.  `Where is the scamp who

has sold me this piece of furniture?' I shout.  `He is gone to

Granada, Valorous,' says one.  `He is gone to see his kindred

among the Moors,' says another.  `I just saw him running over

the field, in the direction of -, with the devil close behind

him,' says a third.  In a word, I am tricked.  I wish to

dispose of the donkey; no one, however, will buy him; he is a

Calo donkey, and every person avoids him.  At last the gypsies

offer thirty rials for him; and after much chaffering I am glad

to get rid of him at two dollars.  It is all a trick, however;

he returns to his master, and the brotherhood share the spoil

amongst them.  All which villainy would be prevented, in my

opinion, were the Calo language not spoken; for what but the

word of Calo could have induced the donkey to behave in such an

unaccountable manner?"



Both seemed perfectly satisfied with the justness of this

conclusion, and continued smoking till their cigars were burnt

to stumps, when they arose, twitched their whiskers, looked at

us with fierce disdain, and dashing the tobacco-ends to the

ground, strode out of the apartment.



"Those people seem no friends to the gypsies," said I to

Antonio, when the two bullies had departed, "nor to the Calo

language either."



"May evil glanders seize their nostrils," said Antonio;

"they have been jonjabadoed by our people.  However, brother,

you did wrong to speak to me in Calo, in a posada like this; it

is a forbidden language; for, as I have often told you, the

king has destroyed the law of the Cales.  Let us away, brother,

or those juntunes (SNEAKING SCOUNDRELS) may set the justicia

upon us."



Towards evening we drew near to a large town or village.

"That is Merida," said Antonio, "formerly, as the Busne say, a

mighty city of the Corahai.  We shall stay here to-night, and

perhaps for a day or two, for I have some business of Egypt to

transact in this place.  Now, brother, step aside with the

horse, and wait for me beneath yonder wall.  I must go before

and see in what condition matters stand."



I dismounted from the horse, and sat down on a stone

beneath the ruined wall to which Antonio had motioned me; the

sun went down, and the air was exceedingly keen; I drew close

around me an old tattered gypsy cloak with which my companion

had provided me, and being somewhat fatigued, fell into a doze

which lasted for nearly an hour.



"Is your worship the London Caloro?" said a strange voice

close beside me.



I started and beheld the face of a woman peering under my

hat.  Notwithstanding the dusk, I could see that the features

were hideously ugly and almost black; they belonged, in fact,

to a gypsy crone, at least seventy years of age, leaning upon a

staff.



"Is your worship the London Caloro?" repeated she.



"I am he whom you seek," said I; "where is Antonio?"



"CURELANDO, CURELANDO, BARIBUSTRES CURELOS TERELA," *

said the crone: "come with me, Caloro of my garlochin, come

with me to my little ker, he will be there anon."



* Doing business, doing business - he has much business

to do.



I followed the crone, who led the way into the town,

which was ruinous and seemingly half deserted; we went up the

street, from which she turned into a narrow and dark lane, and

presently opened the gate of a large dilapidated house; "Come

in," said she.



"And the gras?" I demanded.



"Bring the gras in too, my chabo, bring the gras in too;

there is room for the gras in my little stable."  We entered a

large court, across which we proceeded till we came to a wide

doorway.  "Go in, my child of Egypt," said the hag; "go in,

that is my little stable."



"The place is as dark as pitch," said I, "and may be a

well for what I know; bring a light or I will not enter."



"Give me the solabarri (BRIDLE)," said the hag, "and I

will lead your horse in, my chabo of Egypt, yes, and tether him

to my little manger."  She led the horse through the doorway,

and I heard her busy in the darkness; presently the horse shook

himself: "GRASTI TERELAMOS," said the hag, who now made her

appearance with the bridle in her hand; "the horse has shaken

himself, he is not harmed by his day's journey; now let us go

in, my Caloro, into my little room."



We entered the house and found ourselves in a vast room,

which would have been quite dark but for a faint glow which

appeared at the farther end; it proceeded from a brasero,

beside which were squatted two dusky figures.



"These are Callees," said the hag; "one is my daughter

and the other is her chabi; sit down, my London Caloro, and let

us hear you speak."



I looked about for a chair, but could see none; at a

short distance, however, I perceived the end of a broken pillar

lying on the floor; this I rolled to the brasero and sat down

upon it.



"This is a fine house, mother of the gypsies," said I to

the hag, willing to gratify the desire she had expressed of

hearing me speak; "a fine house is this of yours, rather cold

and damp, though; it appears large enough to be a barrack for

hundunares."



"Plenty of houses in this foros, plenty of houses in

Merida, my London Caloro, some of them just as they were left

by the Corahanoes; ah, a fine people are the Corahanoes; I

often wish myself in their chim once more."



"How is this, mother," said I, "have you been in the land

of the Moors?"



"Twice have I been in their country, my Caloro, - twice

have I been in the land of the Corahai; the first time is more

than fifty years ago, I was then with the Sese (SPANIARDS), for

my husband was a soldier of the Crallis of Spain, and Oran at

that time belonged to Spain."



"You were not then with the real Moors," said I, "but

only with the Spaniards who occupied part of their country."



"I have been with the real Moors, my London Caloro.  Who

knows more of the real Moors than myself?  About forty years

ago I was with my ro in Ceuta, for he was still a soldier of

the king, and he said to me one day, `I am tired of this place

where there is no bread and less water, I will escape and turn

Corahano; this night I will kill my sergeant and flee to the

camp of the Moor.'  `Do so,' said I, `my chabo, and as soon as

may be I will follow you and become a Corahani.'  That same

night he killed his sergeant, who five years before had called

him Calo and cursed him, then running to the wall he dropped

from it, and amidst many shots he escaped to the land of the

Corahai, as for myself, I remained in the presidio of Ceuta as

a suttler, selling wine and repani to the soldiers.  Two years

passed by and I neither saw nor heard from my ro; one day there

came a strange man to my cachimani (WINE-SHOP), he was dressed

like a Corahano, and yet he did not look like one, he looked

like more a callardo (BLACK), and yet he was not a callardo

either, though he was almost black, and as I looked upon him I

thought he looked something like the Errate, and he said to me,

`Zincali; chachipe!' and then he whispered to me in queer

language, which I could scarcely understand, `Your ro is

waiting, come with me, my little sister, and I will take you

unto him.'  `Where is he?' said I, and he pointed to the west,

to the land of the Corahai, and said, `He is yonder away; come

with me, little sister, the ro is waiting.'  For a moment I was

afraid, but I bethought me of my husband and I wished to be

amongst the Corahai; so I took the little parne (MONEY) I had,

and locking up the cachimani went with the strange man; the

sentinel challenged us at the gate, but I gave him repani

(BRANDY) and he let us pass; in a moment we were in the land of

the Corahai.  About a league from the town beneath a hill we

found four people, men and women, all very black like the

strange man, and we joined ourselves with them and they all

saluted me and called me little sister.  That was all I

understood of their discourse, which was very crabbed; and they

took away my dress and gave me other clothes, and I looked like

a Corahani, and away we marched for many days amidst deserts

and small villages, and more than once it seemed to me that I

was amongst the Errate, for their ways were the same: the men

would hokkawar (CHEAT) with mules and asses, and the women told

baji, and after many days we came before a large town, and the

black man said, `Go in there, little sister, and there you will

find your ro;' and I went to the gate, and an armed Corahano

stood within the gate, and I looked in his face, and lo! it was

my ro.



"O what a strange town it was that I found myself in,

full of people who had once been Candore (CHRISTIANS) but had

renegaded and become Corahai.  There were Sese and Lalore

(PORTUGUESE), and men of other nations, and amongst them were

some of the Errate from my own country; all were now soldiers

of the Crallis of the Corahai and followed him to his wars; and

in that town I remained with my ro a long time, occasionally

going out with him to the wars, and I often asked him about the

black men who had brought me thither, and he told me that he

had had dealings with them, and that he believed them to be of

the Errate.  Well, brother, to be short, my ro was killed in

the wars, before a town to which the king of the Corahai laid

siege, and I became a piuli (WIDOW), and I returned to the

village of the renegades, as it was called, and supported

myself as well as I could; and one day as I was sitting

weeping, the black man, whom I had never seen since the day he

brought me to my ro, again stood before me, and he said, `Come

with me, little sister, come with me, the ro is at hand'; and I

went with him, and beyond the gate in the desert was the same

party of black men and women which I had seen before.  `Where

is my ro?' said I.  `Here he is, little sister,' said the black

man, `here he is; from this day I am the ro and you the romi;

come, let us go, for there is business to be done.'



"And I went with him, and he was my ro, and we lived

amongst the deserts, and hokkawar'd and choried and told baji;

and I said to myself, this is good, sure I am amongst the

Errate in a better chim than my own; and I often said that they

were of the Errate, and then they would laugh and say that it

might be so, and that they were not Corahai, but they could

give no account of themselves.



"Well, things went on in this way for years, and I had

three chai by the black man, two of them died, but the

youngest, who is the Calli who sits by the brasero, was spared;

so we roamed about and choried and told baji; and it came to

pass that once in the winter time our company attempted to pass

a wide and deep river, of which there are many in the Chim del

Corahai, and the boat overset with the rapidity of the current

and all our people were drowned, all but myself and my chabi,

whom I bore in my bosom.  I had now no friends amongst the

Corahai, and I wandered about the despoblados howling and

lamenting till I became half lili (MAD), and in this manner I

found my way to the coast, where I made friends with the

captain of a ship and returned to this land of Spain.  And now

I am here, I often wish myself back again amongst the Corahai."



Here she commenced laughing loud and long, and when she

had ceased, her daughter and grandchild took up the laugh,

which they continued so long that I concluded they were all

lunatics.



Hour succeeded hour, and still we sat crouching over the

brasero, from which, by this time, all warmth had departed; the

glow had long since disappeared, and only a few dying sparks

were to be distinguished.  The room or hall was now involved in

utter darkness; the women were motionless and still; I shivered

and began to feel uneasy.  "Will Antonio be here to-night?" at

length I demanded.



"NO TENGA USTED CUIDAO, my London Caloro," said the Gypsy

mother, in an unearthly tone; "Pepindorio * has been here some

time."



* THE Gypsy word for Antonio.



I was about to rise from my seat and attempt to escape

from the house, when I felt a hand laid upon my shoulder, and

in a moment I heard the voice of Antonio.



"Be not afraid, `tis I, brother; we will have a light

anon, and then supper."



The supper was rude enough, consisting of bread, cheese,

and olives.  Antonio, however, produced a leathern bottle of

excellent wine; we despatched these viands by the light of an

earthen lamp which was placed upon the floor.



"Now," said Antonio to the youngest female, "bring me the

pajandi, and I will sing a gachapla."



The girl brought the guitar, which, with some difficulty,

the Gypsy tuned, and then strumming it vigorously, he sang:



"I stole a plump and bonny fowl,

But ere I well had dined,

The master came with scowl and growl,

And me would captive bind.



"My hat and mantle off I threw,

And scour'd across the lea,

Then cried the beng * with loud halloo,

Where does the Gypsy flee?"



* Devil.



He continued playing and singing for a considerable time,

the two younger females dancing in the meanwhile with unwearied

diligence, whilst the aged mother occasionally snapped her

fingers or beat time on the ground with her stick.  At last

Antonio suddenly laid down the instrument:-



"I see the London Caloro is weary; enough, enough, to-

morrow more thereof - we will now to the charipe (BED)."



"With all my heart," said I; "where are we to sleep?"



"In the stable," said he, "in the manger; however cold

the stable may be we shall be warm enough in the bufa."







CHAPTER X







The Gypsy's Granddaughter - Proposed Marriage - The Algnazil -

The Assault - Speedy Trot - Arrival at Trujillo - Night and Rain -

The Forest - The Bivouac - Mount and Away! - Jaraicejo - The National -

The Cavalier Balmerson - Among the Thicket - Serious Discourse -

What is Truth? - Unexpected Intelligence.





We remained three days at the Gypsies' house, Antonio

departing early every morning, on his mule, and returning late

at night.  The house was large and ruinous, the only habitable

part of it, with the exception of the stable, being the hall,

where we had supped, and there the Gypsy females slept at

night, on some mats and mattresses in a corner.



"A strange house is this," said I to Antonio, one morning

as he was on the point of saddling his mule and departing, as I

supposed, on the affairs of Egypt; "a strange house and strange

people; that Gypsy grandmother has all the appearance of a

sowanee (SORCERESS)."



"All the appearance of one!" said Antonio; "and is she

not really one?  She knows more crabbed things and crabbed

words than all the Errate betwixt here and Catalonia.  She has

been amongst the wild Moors, and can make more drows, poisons,

and philtres than any one alive.  She once made a kind of

paste, and persuaded me to taste, and shortly after I had done

so my soul departed from my body, and wandered through horrid

forests and mountains, amidst monsters and duendes, during one

entire night.  She learned many things amidst the Corahai which

I should be glad to know."



"Have you been long acquainted with her?" said I; "you

appear to be quite at home in this house."



"Acquainted with her!" said Antonio.  "Did not my own

brother marry the black Calli, her daughter, who bore him the

chabi, sixteen years ago, just before he was hanged by the

Busne?"



In the afternoon I was seated with the Gypsy mother in

the hall, the two Callees were absent telling fortunes about

the town and neighbourhood, which was their principal

occupation.  "Are you married, my London Caloro?" said the old

woman to me.  "Are you a ro?"



MYSELF. - Wherefore do you ask, O Dai de los Cales?



GYPSY MOTHER. - It is high time that the lacha of the

chabi were taken from her, and that she had a ro.  You can do

no better than take her for romi, my London Caloro.



MYSELF. - I am a stranger in this land, O mother of the

Gypsies, and scarcely know how to provide for myself, much less

for a romi.



GYPSY MOTHER. - She wants no one to provide for her, my

London Caloro, she can at any time provide for herself and her

ro.  She can hokkawar, tell baji, and there are few to equal

her at stealing a pastesas.  Were she once at Madrilati, where

they tell me you are going, she would make much treasure;

therefore take her thither, for in this foros she is nahi

(LOST), as it were, for there is nothing to be gained; but in

the foros baro it would be another matter; she would go dressed

in lachipi and sonacai (SILK AND GOLD), whilst you would ride

about on your black-tailed gra; and when you had got much

treasure, you might return hither and live like a Crallis, and

all the Errate of the Chim del Manro should bow down their

heads to you.  What, say you, my London Caloro, what say you to

my plan?



Myself. - Your plan is a plausible one, mother, or at

least some people would think so; but I am, as you are aware,

of another chim, and have no inclination to pass my life in

this country.



GYPSY MOTHER. - Then return to your own country, my

Caloro, the chabi can cross the pani.  Would she not do

business in London with the rest of the Calore?  Or why not go

to the land of the Corahai?  In which case I would accompany

you; I and my daughter, the mother of the chabi.



MYSELF. - And what should we do in the land of the

Corahai?  It is a poor and wild country, I believe.



GYPSY MOTHER. - The London Caloro asks me what we could

do in the land of the Corahai!  Aromali!  I almost think that I

am speaking to a lilipendi (SIMPLETON).  Are there not horses

to chore?  Yes, I trow there are, and better ones than in this

land, and asses and mules.  In the land of the Corahai you must

hokkawar and chore even as you must here, or in your own

country, or else you are no Caloro.  Can you not join

yourselves with the black people who live in the despoblados?

Yes, surely; and glad they would be to have among them the

Errate from Spain and London.  I am seventy years of age, but I

wish not to die in this chim, but yonder, far away, where both

my roms are sleeping.  Take the chabi, therefore, and go to

Madrilati to win the parne, and when you have got it, return,

and we will give a banquet to all the Busne in Merida, and in

their food I will mix drow, and they shall eat and burst like

poisoned sheep. . . . And when they have eaten we will leave

them, and away to the land of the Moor, my London Caloro.



During the whole time that I remained at Merida I stirred

not once from the house; following the advice of Antonio, who

informed me that it would not be convenient.  My time lay

rather heavily on my hands, my only source of amusement

consisting in the conversation of the women, and in that of

Antonio when he made his appearance at night.  In these

tertulias the grandmother was the principal spokeswoman, and

astonished my ears with wonderful tales of the Land of the

Moors, prison escapes, thievish feats, and one or two poisoning

adventures, in which she had been engaged, as she informed me,

in her early youth.



There was occasionally something very wild in her

gestures and demeanour; more than once I observed her, in the

midst of much declamation, to stop short, stare in vacancy, and

thrust out her palms as if endeavouring to push away some

invisible substance; she goggled frightfully with her eyes, and

once sank back in convulsions, of which her children took no

farther notice than observing that she was only lili, and would

soon come to herself.



Late in the afternoon of the third day, as the three

women and myself sat conversing as usual over the brasero, a

shabby looking fellow in an old rusty cloak walked into the

room: he came straight up to the place where we were sitting,

produced a paper cigar, which he lighted at a coal, and taking

a whiff or two, looked at me: "Carracho," said he, "who is this

companion?"



I saw at once that the fellow was no Gypsy: the women

said nothing, but I could hear the grandmother growling to

herself, something after the manner of an old grimalkin when

disturbed.



"Carracho," reiterated the fellow, "how came this

companion here?"



"NO LE PENELA CHI MIN CHABORO," said the black Callee to

me, in an undertone; "SIN UN BALICHO DE LOS CHINELES *;" then

looking up to the interrogator she said aloud, "he is one of

our people from Portugal, come on the smuggling lay, and to see

his poor sisters here."



* "Say nothing to him, my lad, he is a hog of an

alguazil."



"Then let him give me some tobacco," said the fellow, "I

suppose he has brought some with him."



"He has no tobacco," said the black Callee, "he has

nothing but old iron.  This cigar is the only tobacco there is

in the house; take it, smoke it, and go away!"



Thereupon she produced a cigar from out her shoe, which

she presented to the alguazil.



"This will not do," said the fellow, taking the cigar, "I

must have something better; it is now three months since I

received anything from you; the last present was a

handkerchief, which was good for nothing; therefore hand me

over something worth taking, or I will carry you all to the

Carcel."



"The Busno will take us to prison," said the black

Callee, "ha! ha! ha!"



"The Chinel will take us to prison," giggled the young

girl "he! he! he!"



"The Bengui will carry us all to the estaripel," grunted

the Gypsy grandmother, "ho! ho! ho!"



The three females arose and walked slowly round the

fellow, fixing their eyes steadfastly on his face; he appeared

frightened, and evidently wished to get away.  Suddenly the two

youngest seized his hands, and whilst he struggled to release

himself, the old woman exclaimed: "You want tobacco, hijo - you

come to the Gypsy house to frighten the Callees and the strange

Caloro out of their plako - truly, hijo, we have none for you,

and right sorry I am; we have, however, plenty of the dust A SU

SERVICIO."



Here, thrusting her hand into her pocket, she discharged

a handful of some kind of dust or snuff into the fellow's eyes;

he stamped and roared, but was for some time held fast by the

two Callees; he extricated himself, however, and attempted to

unsheath a knife which he bore at his girdle; but the two

younger females flung themselves upon him like furies, while

the old woman increased his disorder by thrusting her stick

into his face; he was soon glad to give up the contest, and

retreated, leaving behind him his hat and cloak, which the

chabi gathered up and flung after him into the street.



"This is a bad business," said I, "the fellow will of

course bring the rest of the justicia upon us, and we shall all

be cast into the estaripel."



"Ca!" said the black Callee, biting her thumb nail, "he

has more reason to fear us than we him, we could bring him to

the filimicha; we have, moreover, friends in this town, plenty,

plenty."



"Yes," mumbled the grandmother, "the daughters of the

baji have friends, my London Caloro, friends among the Busnees,

baributre, baribu (PLENTY, PLENTY)."



Nothing farther of any account occurred in the Gypsy

house; the next day, Antonio and myself were again in the

saddle, we travelled at least thirteen leagues before we

reached the Venta, where we passed the night; we rose early in

the morning, my guide informing me that we had a long day's

journey to make.  "Where are we bound to?"  I demanded.  "To

Trujillo," he replied.



When the sun arose, which it did gloomily and amidst

threatening rain-clouds, we found ourselves in the

neighbourhood of a range of mountains which lay on our left,

and which, Antonio informed me, were called the Sierra of San

Selvan; our route, however, lay over wide plains, scantily

clothed with brushwood, with here and there a melancholy

village, with its old and dilapidated church.  Throughout the

greater part of the day, a drizzling rain was falling, which

turned the dust of the roads into mud and mire, considerably

impeding our progress.  Towards evening we reached a moor, a

wild place enough, strewn with enormous stones and rocks.

Before us, at some distance, rose a strange conical hill, rough

and shaggy, which appeared to be neither more nor less than an

immense assemblage of the same kind of rocks which lay upon the

moor.  The rain had now ceased, but a strong wind rose and

howled at our backs.  Throughout the journey, I had experienced

considerable difficulty in keeping up with the mule of Antonio;

the walk of the horse was slow, and I could discover no vestige

of the spirit which the Gypsy had assured me lurked within him.

We were now upon a tolerably clear spot of the moor: "I am

about to see," I said, "whether this horse has any of the

quality which you have described."  "Do so," said Antonio, and

spurred his beast onward, speedily leaving me far behind.  I

jerked the horse with the bit, endeavouring to arouse his

dormant spirit, whereupon he stopped, reared, and refused to

proceed.  "Hold the bridle loose and touch him with your whip,"

shouted Antonio from before.  I obeyed, and forthwith the

animal set off at a trot, which gradually increased in

swiftness till it became a downright furious speedy trot; his

limbs were now thoroughly lithy, and he brandished his fore

legs in a manner perfectly wondrous; the mule of Antonio, which

was a spirited animal of excellent paces, would fain have

competed with him, but was passed in a twinkling.  This

tremendous trot endured for about a mile, when the animal,

becoming yet more heated, broke suddenly into a gallop.

Hurrah! no hare ever ran so wildly or blindly; it was,

literally, VENTRE A TERRE; and I had considerable difficulty in

keeping him clear of rocks, against which he would have rushed

in his savage fury, and dashed himself and rider to atoms.



This race brought me to the foot of the hill, where I

waited till the Gypsy rejoined me: we left the hill, which

seemed quite inaccessible, on our right, passing through a

small and wretched village.  The sun went down, and dark night

presently came upon us; we proceeded on, however, for nearly

three hours, until we heard the barking of dogs, and perceived

a light or two in the distance.  "That is Trujillo," said

Antonio, who had not spoken for a long time.  "I am glad of

it," I replied; "I am thoroughly tired; I shall sleep soundly

in Trujillo."  "That is as it may be," said the Gypsy, and

spurred his mule to a brisker pace.  We soon entered the town,

which appeared dark and gloomy enough; I followed close behind

the Gypsy, who led the way I knew not whither, through dismal

streets and dark places, where cats were squalling.  "Here is

the house," said he at last, dismounting before a low mean hut;

he knocked, no answer was returned; - he knocked again, but

still there was no reply; he shook the door and essayed to open

it, but it appeared firmly locked and bolted.  "Caramba!" said

he, "they are out - I feared it might be so.  Now what are we

to do?"



"There can be no difficulty," said I, "with respect to

what we have to do; if your friends are gone out, it is easy

enough to go to a posada."



"You know not what you say," replied the Gypsy, "I dare

not go to the mesuna, nor enter any house in Trujillo save

this, and this is shut; well, there is no remedy, we must move

on, and, between ourselves, the sooner we leave this place the

better; my own planoro (BROTHER) was garroted at Trujillo."



He lighted a cigar, by means of a steel and yesca, sprang

on his mule, and proceeded through streets and lanes equally

dismal as those which we had already traversed till we again

found ourselves out of the, town.



I confess I did not much like this decision of the Gypsy;

I felt very slight inclination to leave the town behind and to

venture into unknown places in the dark night: amidst rain and

mist, for the wind had now dropped, and the rain began again to

fall briskly.  I was, moreover, much fatigued, and wished for

nothing better than to deposit myself in some comfortable

manger, where I might sink to sleep, lulled by the pleasant

sound of horses and mules despatching their provender.  I had,

however, put myself under the direction of the Gypsy, and I was

too old a traveller to quarrel with my guide under the present

circumstances.  I therefore followed close at his crupper; our

only light being the glow emitted from the Gypsy's cigar; at

last he flung it from his mouth into a puddle, and we were then

in darkness.



We proceeded in this manner for a long time; the Gypsy

was silent; I myself was equally so; the rain descended more

and more.  I sometimes thought I heard doleful noises,

something like the hooting of owls.  "This is a strange night

to be wandering abroad in," I at length said to Antonio.



"It is, brother," said he, "but I would sooner be abroad

in such a night, and in such places, than in the estaripel of

Trujillo."



We wandered at least a league farther, and appeared now

to be near a wood, for I could occasionally distinguish the

trunks of immense trees.  Suddenly Antonio stopped his mule;

"Look, brother," said he, "to the left, and tell me if you do

not see a light; your eyes are sharper than mine."  I did as he

commanded me.  At first I could see nothing, but moving a

little farther on I plainly saw a large light at some distance,

seemingly amongst the trees.  "Yonder cannot be a lamp or

candle," said I; "it is more like the blaze of a fire."  "Very

likely," said Antonio.  "There are no queres (HOUSES) in this

place; it is doubtless a fire made by durotunes (SHEPHERDS);

let us go and join them, for, as you say, it is doleful work

wandering about at night amidst rain and mire."



We dismounted and entered what I now saw was a forest,

leading the animals cautiously amongst the trees and brushwood.

In about five minutes we reached a small open space, at the

farther side of which, at the foot of a large cork tree, a fire

was burning, and by it stood or sat two or three figures; they

had heard our approach, and one of them now exclaimed Quien

Vive?  "I know that voice," said Antonio, and leaving the horse

with me, rapidly advanced towards the fire: presently I heard

an Ola! and a laugh, and soon the voice of Antonio summoned me

to advance.  On reaching the fire I found two dark lads, and a

still darker woman of about forty; the latter seated on what

appeared to be horse or mule furniture.  I likewise saw a horse

and two donkeys tethered to the neighbouring trees.  It was in

fact a Gypsy bivouac. . . . "Come forward, brother, and show

yourself," said Antonio to me; "you are amongst friends; these

are of the Errate, the very people whom I expected to find at

Trujillo, and in whose house we should have slept."



"And what," said I, "could have induced them to leave

their house in Trujillo and come into this dark forest in the

midst of wind and rain, to pass the night?"



"They come on business of Egypt, brother, doubtless,"

replied Antonio; "and that business is none of ours, Calla

boca!  It is lucky we have found them here, else we should have

had no supper, and our horses no corn."



"My ro is prisoner at the village yonder," said the

woman, pointing with her hand in a particular direction; "he is

prisoner yonder for choring a mailla (STEALING A DONKEY); we

are come to see what we can do in his behalf; and where can we

lodge better than in this forest, where there is nothing to

pay?  It is not the first time, I trow, that Calore have slept

at the root of a tree."



One of the striplings now gave us barley for our animals

in a large bag, into which we successively introduced their

heads, allowing the famished creatures to regale themselves

till we conceived that they had satisfied their hunger.  There

was a puchero simmering at the fire, half full of bacon,

garbanzos, and other provisions; this was emptied into a large

wooden platter, and out of this Antonio and myself supped; the

other Gypsies refused to join us, giving us to understand that

they had eaten before our arrival; they all, however, did

justice to the leathern bottle of Antonio, which, before his

departure from Merida, he had the precaution to fill.



I was by this time completely overcome with fatigue and

sleep.  Antonio flung me an immense horse-cloth, of which he

bore more than one beneath the huge cushion on which he rode;

in this I wrapped myself, and placing my head upon a bundle,

and my feet as near as possible to the fire, I lay down.



Antonio and the other Gypsies remained seated by the fire

conversing.  I listened for a moment to what they said, but I

did not perfectly understand it, and what I did understand by

no means interested me: the rain still drizzled, but I heeded

it not, and was soon asleep.



The sun was just appearing as I awoke.  I made several

efforts before I could rise from the ground; my limbs were

quite stiff, and my hair was covered with rime; for the rain

had ceased and a rather severe frost set in.  I looked around

me, but could see neither Antonio nor the Gypsies; the animals

of the latter had likewise disappeared, so had the horse which

I had hitherto rode; the mule, however, of Antonio still

remained fastened to the tree! this latter circumstance quieted

some apprehensions which were beginning to arise in my mind.

"They are gone on some business of Egypt," I said to myself,

"and will return anon."  I gathered together the embers of the

fire, and heaping upon them sticks and branches, soon succeeded

in calling forth a blaze, beside which I placed the puchero,

with what remained of the provision of last night.  I waited

for a considerable time in expectation of the return of my

companions, but as they did not appear, I sat down and

breakfasted.  Before I had well finished I heard the noise of a

horse approaching rapidly, and presently Antonio made his

appearance amongst the trees, with some agitation in his

countenance.  He sprang from the horse, and instantly proceeded

to untie the mule.  "Mount, brother, mount!" said he, pointing

to the horse; "I went with the Callee and her chabes to the

village where the ro is in trouble; the chinobaro, however,

seized them at once with their cattle, and would have laid

hands also on me, but I set spurs to the grasti, gave him the

bridle, and was soon far away.  Mount, brother, mount, or we

shall have the whole rustic canaille upon us in a twinkling."



I did as he commanded: we were presently in the road

which we had left the night before.  Along this we hurried at a

great rate, the horse displaying his best speedy trot; whilst

the mule, with its ears pricked up, galloped gallantly at his

side.  "What place is that on the hill yonder?" said I to

Antonio, at the expiration of an hour, as we prepared to

descend a deep valley.



"That is Jaraicejo," said Antonio; "a bad place it is and

a bad place it has ever been for the Calo people."



"If it is such a bad place," said I, "I hope we shall not

have to pass through it."



"We must pass through it," said Antonio, "for more

reasons than one: first, forasmuch is the road lies through

Jaraicejo; and second, forasmuch as it will be necessary to

purchase provisions there, both for ourselves and horses.  On

the other side of Jaraicejo there is a wild desert, a

despoblado, where we shall find nothing."



We crossed the valley, and ascended the hill, and as we

drew near to the town the Gypsy said, "Brother, we had best

pass through that town singly.  I will go in advance; follow

slowly, and when there purchase bread and barley; you have

nothing to fear.  I will await you on the despoblado."



Without waiting for my answer he hastened forward, and

was speedily out of sight.



I followed slowly behind, and entered the gate of the

town; an old dilapidated place, consisting of little more than

one street.  Along this street I was advancing, when a man with

a dirty foraging cap on his head, and holding a gun in his

hand, came running up to me: "Who are you?" said he, in rather

rough accents, "from whence do you come?"



"From Badajoz and Trujillo," I replied; "why do you ask?"



"I am one of the national guard," said the man, "and am

placed here to inspect strangers; I am told that a Gypsy fellow

just now rode through the town; it is well for him that I had

stepped into my house.  Do you come in his company?"



"Do I look a person," said I, "likely to keep company

with Gypsies?"



The national measured me from top to toe, and then looked

me full in the face with an expression which seemed to say,

"likely enough."  In fact, my appearance was by no means

calculated to prepossess people in my favour.  Upon my head I

wore an old Andalusian hat, which, from its condition, appeared

to have been trodden under foot; a rusty cloak, which had

perhaps served half a dozen generations, enwrapped my body.  My

nether garments were by no means of the finest description; and

as far as could be seen were covered with mud, with which my

face was likewise plentifully bespattered, and upon my chin was

a beard of a week's growth.



"Have you a passport?" at length demanded the national.



I remembered having read that the best way to win a

Spaniard's heart is to treat him with ceremonious civility.  I

therefore dismounted, and taking off my hat, made a low bow to

the constitutional soldier, saying, "Senor nacional, you must

know that I am an English gentleman, travelling in this country

for my pleasure; I bear a passport, which, on inspecting, you

will find to be perfectly regular; it was given me by the great

Lord Palmerston, minister of England, whom you of course have

heard of here; at the bottom you will see his own handwriting;

look at it and rejoice; perhaps you will never have another

opportunity.  As I put unbounded confidence in the honour of

every gentleman, I leave the passport in your hands whilst I

repair to the posada to refresh myself.  When you have

inspected it, you will perhaps oblige me so far as to bring it

to me.  Cavalier, I kiss your hands."



I then made him another low bow, which he returned with

one still lower, and leaving him now staring at the passport

and now looking at myself, I went into a posada, to which I was

directed by a beggar whom I met.



I fed the horse, and procured some bread and barley, as

the Gypsy had directed me; I likewise purchased three fine

partridges of a fowler, who was drinking wine in the posada.

He was satisfied with the price I gave him, and offered to

treat me with a copita, to which I made no objection.  As we

sat discoursing at the table, the national entered with the

passport in his hand, and sat down by us.



NATIONAL. - Caballero!  I return you your passport, it is

quite in form; I rejoice much to have made your acquaintance; I

have no doubt that you can give me some information respecting

the present war.



MYSELF. - I shall be very happy to afford so polite and

honourable a gentleman any information in my power.



NATIONAL. - What is England doing, - is she about to

afford any assistance to this country?  If she pleased she

could put down the war in three months.



MYSELF. - Be under no apprehension, Senor nacional; the

war will be put down, don't doubt.  You have heard of the

English legion, which my Lord Palmerston has sent over?  Leave

the matter in their hands, and you will soon see the result.



NATIONAL. - It appears to me that this Caballero

Balmerson must be a very honest man.



MYSELF. - There can be no doubt of it.



NATIONAL. - I have heard that he is a great general.



MYSELF. - There can be no doubt of it.  In some things

neither Napoleon nor the sawyer * would stand a chance with him

for a moment.  ES MUCHO HOMBRE.



* El Serrador, a Carlist partisan, who about this period

was much talked of in Spain.



NATIONAL. - I am glad to hear it.  Does he intend to head

the legion himself?



MYSELF. - I believe not; but he has sent over, to head

the fighting men, a friend of his, who is thought to be nearly

as much versed in military matters as himself.



NATIONAL. - I am rejoiced to hear it.  I see that the war

will soon be over.  Caballero, I thank you for your politeness,

and for the information which you have afforded me.  I hope you

will have a pleasant journey.  I confess that I am surprised to

see a gentleman of your country travelling alone, and in this

manner, through such regions as these.  The roads are at

present very bad; there have of late been many accidents, and

more than two deaths in this neighbourhood.  The despoblado out

yonder has a particularly evil name; be on your guard,

Caballero.  I am sorry that Gypsy was permitted to pass; should

you meet him and not like his looks, shoot him at once, stab

him, or ride him down.  He is a well known thief,

contrabandista, and murderer, and has committed more

assassinations than he has fingers on his hands.  Caballero, if

you please, we will allow you a guard to the other side of the

pass.  You do not wish it?  Then, farewell.  Stay, before I go

I should wish to see once more the signature of the Caballero

Balmerson.



I showed him the signature, which he looked upon with

profound reverence, uncovering his head for a moment; we then

embraced and parted.



I mounted the horse and rode from the town, at first

proceeding very slowly; I had no sooner, however, reached the

moor, than I put the animal to his speedy trot, and proceeded

at a tremendous rate for some time, expecting every moment to

overtake the Gypsy.  I, however, saw nothing of him, nor did I

meet with a single human being.  The road along which I sped

was narrow and sandy, winding amidst thickets of broom and

brushwood, with which the despoblado was overgrown, and which

in some places were as high as a man's head.  Across the moor,

in the direction in which I was proceeding, rose a lofty

eminence, naked and bare.  The moor extended for at least three

leagues; I had nearly crossed it, and reached the foot of the

ascent.  I was becoming very uneasy, conceiving that I might

have passed the Gypsy amongst the thickets, when I suddenly

heard his well known Ola! and his black savage head and staring

eyes suddenly appeared from amidst a clump of broom.



"You have tarried long, brother," said he; "I almost

thought you had played me false."



He bade me dismount, and then proceeded to lead the horse

behind the thicket, where I found the route picqueted to the

ground.  I gave him the barley and provisions, and then

proceeded to relate to him my adventure with the national.



"I would I had him here," said the Gypsy, on hearing the

epithets which the former had lavished upon him.  "I would I

had him here, then should my chulee and his carlo become better

acquainted."



"And what are you doing here yourself," I demanded, "in

this wild place, amidst these thickets?"



"I am expecting a messenger down yon pass," said the

Gypsy; "and till that messenger arrive I can neither go forward

nor return.  It is on business of Egypt, brother, that I am

here."



As he invariably used this last expression when he wished

to evade my inquiries, I held my peace, and said no more; the

animals were fed, and we proceeded to make a frugal repast on

bread and wine.



"Why do you not cook the game which I brought?" I

demanded; "in this place there is plenty of materials for a

fire."



"The smoke might discover us, brother," said Antonio, "I

am desirous of lying escondido in this place until the arrival

of the messenger."



It was now considerably past noon; the gypsy lay behind

the thicket, raising himself up occasionally and looking

anxiously towards the hill which lay over against us; at last,

with an exclamation of disappointment and impatience, he flung

himself on the ground, where he lay a considerable time,

apparently ruminating; at last he lifted up his head and looked

me in the face.



ANTONIO. - Brother, I cannot imagine what business

brought you to this country.



MYSELF. - Perhaps the same which brings you to this moor

- business of Egypt.



ANTONIO. - Not so, brother; you speak the language of

Egypt, it is true, but your ways and words are neither those of

the Cales nor of the Busne.



MYSELF. - Did you not hear me speak in the foros about

God and Tebleque?  It was to declare his glory to the Cales and

Gentiles that I came to the land of Spain.



ANTONIO. - And who sent you on this errand?



MYSELF. - You would scarcely understand me were I to

inform you.  Know, however, that there are many in foreign

lands who lament the darkness which envelops Spain, and the

scenes of cruelty, robbery, and murder which deform it.



ANTONIO. - Are they Calore or Busne?



MYSELF. - What matters it?  Both Calore and Busne are

sons of the same God.



ANTONIO. - You lie, brother, they are not of one father

nor of one Errate.  You speak of robbery, cruelty, and murder.

There are too many Busne, brother; if there were no Busne there

would be neither robbery nor murder.  The Calore neither rob

nor murder each other, the Busno do; nor are they cruel to

their animals, their law forbids them.  When I was a child I

was beating a burra, but my father stopped my hand, and chided

me.  "Hurt not the animal," said he; "for within it is the soul

of your own sister!"



MYSELF. - And do you believe in this wild doctrine, O

Antonio?



ANTONIO. - Sometimes I do, sometimes I do not.  There are

some who believe in nothing; not even that they live!  Long

since, I knew an old Caloro, he was old, very old, upwards of a

hundred years, - and I once heard him say, that all we thought

we saw was a lie; that there was no world, no men nor women, no

horses nor mules, no olive trees.  But whither are we straying?

I asked what induced you to come to this country - you tell me

the glory of God and Tebleque.  Disparate! tell that to the

Busne.  You have good reasons for coming, no doubt, else you

would not be here.  Some say you are a spy of the Londone,

perhaps you are; I care not.  Rise, brother, and tell me

whether any one is coming down the pass."



"I see a distant object," I replied; "like a speck on the

side of the hill."



The Gypsy started up, and we both fixed our eyes on the

object: the distance was so great that it was at first with

difficulty that we could distinguish whether it moved or not.

A quarter of an hour, however, dispelled all doubts, for within

this time it had nearly reached the bottom of the hill, and we

could descry a figure seated on an animal of some kind.



"It is a woman," said I, at length, "mounted on a grey

donkey."



"Then it is my messenger," said Antonio, "for it can be

no other."



The woman and the donkey were now upon the plain, and for

some time were concealed from us by the copse and brushwood

which intervened.  They were not long, however, in making their

appearance at the distance of about a hundred yards.  The

donkey was a beautiful creature of a silver grey, and came

frisking along, swinging her tail, and moving her feet so quick

that they scarcely seemed to touch the ground.  The animal no

sooner perceived us than she stopped short, turned round, and

attempted to escape by the way she had come; her rider,

however, detained her, whereupon the donkey kicked violently,

and would probably have flung the former, had she not sprung

nimbly to the ground.  The form of the woman was entirely

concealed by the large wrapping man's cloak which she wore.  I

ran to assist her, when she turned her face full upon me, and I

instantly recognized the sharp clever features of Antonia, whom

I had seen at Badajoz, the daughter of my guide.  She said

nothing to me, but advancing to her father, addressed something

to him in a low voice, which I did not hear.  He started back,

and vociferated "All!"  "Yes," said she in a louder tone,

probably repeating the words which I had not caught before,

"All are captured."



The Gypsy remained for some time like one astounded and,

unwilling to listen to their discourse, which I imagined might

relate to business of Egypt, I walked away amidst the thickets.

I was absent for some time, but could occasionally hear

passionate expressions and oaths.  In about half an hour I

returned; they had left the road, but I found then behind the

broom clump, where the animals stood.  Both were seated on the

ground; the features of the Gypsy were peculiarly dark and

grim; he held his unsheathed knife in his hand, which he would

occasionally plunge into the earth, exclaiming, "All! All!"



"Brother," said he at last, "I can go no farther with

you; the business which carried me to Castumba is settled; you

must now travel by yourself and trust to your baji (FORTUNE)."



"I trust in Undevel," I replied, "who wrote my fortune

long ago.  But how am I to journey?  I have no horse, for you

doubtless want your own."



The Gypsy appeared to reflect: "I want the horse, it is

true, brother," he said, "and likewise the macho; but you shall

not go EN PINDRE (on foot); you shall purchase the burra of

Antonia, which I presented her when I sent her upon this

expedition."



"The burra," I replied, "appears both savage and

vicious."



"She is both, brother, and on that account I bought her;

a savage and vicious beast has generally four excellent legs.

You are a Calo, brother, and can manage her; you shall

therefore purchase the savage burra, giving my daugher Antonia

a baria of gold.  If you think fit, you can sell the beast at

Talavera or Madrid, for Estremenian bestis are highly

considered in Castumba."



In less than an hour I was on the other side of the pass,

mounted on the savage burra.







CHAPTER XI







The Pass of Mirabete - Wolves and Shepherds - Female Subtlety -

Death by Wolves - The Mystery Solved - The Mountains - The Dark Hour -

The Traveller of the Night - Abarbenel - Hoarded Treasure -

Force of Gold - The Archbishop - Arrival at Madrid.





I proceeded down the pass of Mirabete, occasionally

ruminating on the matter which had brought me to Spain, and

occasionally admiring one of the finest prospects in the world;

before me outstretched lay immense plains, bounded in the

distance by huge mountains, whilst at the foot of the hill

which I was now descending, rolled the Tagus, in a deep narrow

stream, between lofty banks; the whole was gilded by the rays

of the setting sun; for the day, though cold and wintry, was

bright and clear.  In about an hour I reached the river at a

place where stood the remains of what had once been a

magnificent bridge, which had, however, been blown up in the

Peninsular war and never since repaired.



I crossed the river in a ferry-boat; the passage was

rather difficult, the current very rapid and swollen, owing to

the latter rains.



"Am I in New Castile?" I demanded of the ferryman, on

reaching the further bank.  "The raya is many leagues from

hence," replied the ferryman; "you seem a stranger.  Whence do

you come?"  "From England," I replied, and without waiting for

an answer, I sprang on the burra, and proceeded on my way.  The

burra plied her feet most nimbly, and, shortly after nightfall,

brought me to a village at about two leagues' distance from the

river's bank.



I sat down in the venta where I put up; there was a huge

fire, consisting of the greater part of the trunk of an olive

tree; the company was rather miscellaneous: a hunter with his

escopeta; a brace of shepherds with immense dogs, of that

species for which Estremadura is celebrated; a broken soldier,

just returned from the wars; and a beggar, who, after demanding

charity for the seven wounds of Maria Santissima, took a seat

amidst us, and made himself quite comfortable.  The hostess was

an active bustling woman, and busied herself in cooking my

supper, which consisted of the game which I had purchased at

Jaraicejo, and which, on my taking leave of the Gypsy, he had

counselled me to take with me.  In the meantime, I sat by the

fire listening to the conversation of the company.



"I would I were a wolf," said one of the shepherds; "or,

indeed, anything rather than what I am.  A pretty life is this

of ours, out in the campo, among the carascales, suffering heat

and cold for a peseta a day.  I would I were a wolf; he fares

better and is more respected than the wretch of a shepherd."



"But he frequently fares scurvily," said I; "the shepherd

and dogs fall upon him, and then he pays for his temerity with

the loss of his head."



"That is not often the case, senor traveller," said the

shepherd; "he watches his opportunity, and seldom runs into

harm's way.  And as to attacking him, it is no very pleasant

task; he has both teeth and claws, and dog or man, who has once

felt them, likes not to venture a second time within his reach.

These dogs of mine will seize a bear singly with considerable

alacrity, though he is a most powerful animal, but I have seen

them run howling away from a wolf, even though there were two

or three of us at hand to encourage them."



"A dangerous person is the wolf," said the other

shepherd, "and cunning as dangerous; who knows more than he?

He knows the vulnerable point of every animal; see, for

example, how he flies at the neck of a bullock, tearing open

the veins with his grim teeth and claws.  But does he attack a

horse in this manner?  I trow not."



"Not he," said the other shepherd, "he is too good a

judge; but he fastens on the haunches, and hamstrings him in a

moment.  O the fear of the horse when he comes near the

dwelling of the wolf.  My master was the other day riding in

the despoblado, above the pass, on his fine Andalusian steed,

which had cost him five hundred dollars; suddenly the horse

stopped, and sweated and trembled like a woman in the act of

fainting; my master could not conceive the reason, but

presently he heard a squealing and growling in the bushes,

whereupon he fired off his gun and scared the wolves, who

scampered away; but he tells me, that the horse has not yet

recovered from his fright."



"Yet the mares know, occasionally, how to balk him,"

replied his companion; "there is great craft and malice in

mares, as there is in all females; see them feeding in the

campo with their young cria about them; presently the alarm is

given that the wolf is drawing near; they start wildly and run

about for a moment, but it is only for a moment - amain they

gather together, forming themselves into a circle, in the

centre of which they place the foals.  Onward comes the wolf,

hoping to make his dinner on horseflesh; he is mistaken,

however, the mares have balked him, and are as cunning as

himself: not a tail is to be seen - not a hinder quarter - but

there stands the whole troop, their fronts towards him ready to

receive him, and as he runs around them barking and howling,

they rise successively on their hind legs, ready to stamp him

to the earth, should he attempt to hurt their cria or

themselves."



"Worse than the he-wolf," said the soldier, "is the

female, for as the senor pastor has well observed, there is

more malice in women than in males: to see one of these she-

demons with a troop of the males at her heels is truly

surprising: where she turns, they turn, and what she does that

do they; for they appear bewitched, and have no power but to

imitate her actions.  I was once travelling with a comrade over

the hills of Galicia, when we heard a howl.  `Those are

wolves,' said my companion, `let us get out of the way;' so we

stepped from the path and ascended the side of the hill a

little way, to a terrace, where grew vines, after the manner of

Galicia: presently appeared a large grey she-wolf, DESHONESTA,

snapping and growling at a troop of demons, who followed close

behind, their tails uplifted, and their eyes like fire-brands.

What do you think the perverse brute did?  Instead of keeping

to the path, she turned in the very direction in which we were;

there was now no remedy, so we stood still.  I was the first

upon the terrace, and by me she passed so close that I felt her

hair brush against my legs; she, however, took no notice of me,

but pushed on, neither looking to the right nor left, and all

the other wolves trotted by me without offering the slightest

injury or even so much as looking at me.  Would that I could

say as much for my poor companion, who stood farther on, and

was, I believe, less in the demon's way than I was; she had

nearly passed him, when suddenly she turned half round and

snapped at him.  I shall never forget what followed: in a

moment a dozen wolves were upon him, tearing him limb from

limb, with howlings like nothing in this world; in a few

moments he was devoured; nothing remained but a skull and a few

bones; and then they passed on in the same manner as they came.

Good reason had I to be grateful that my lady wolf took less

notice of me than my poor comrade."



Listening to this and similar conversation, I fell into a

doze before the fire, in which I continued for a considerable

time, but was at length aroused by a voice exclaiming in a loud

tone, "All are captured!"  These were the exact words which,

when spoken by his daughter, confounded the Gypsy upon the

moor.  I looked around me, the company consisted of the same

individuals to whose conversation I had been listening before I

sank into slumber; but the beggar was now the spokesman, and he

was haranguing with considerable vehemence.



"I beg your pardon, Caballero," said I, "but I did not

hear the commencement of your discourse.  Who are those who

have been captured?"



"A band of accursed Gitanos, Caballero," replied the

beggar, returning the title of courtesy, which I had bestowed

upon him.  "During more than a fortnight they have infested the

roads on the frontier of Castile, and many have been the

gentleman travellers like yourself whom they have robbed and

murdered.  It would seem that the Gypsy canaille must needs

take advantage of these troublous times, and form themselves

into a faction.  It is said that the fellows of whom I am

speaking expected many more of their brethren to join them,

which is likely enough, for all Gypsies are thieves: but

praised be God, they have been put down before they became too

formidable.  I saw them myself conveyed to the prison at -.

Thanks be to God.  TODOS ESTAN PRESOS."



"The mystery is now solved," said I to myself, and

proceeded to despatch my supper, which was now ready.



The next day's journey brought me to a considerable town,

the name of which I have forgotten.  It is the first in New

Castile, in this direction.  I passed the night as usual in the

manger of the stable, close beside the Caballeria; for, as I

travelled upon a donkey, I deemed it incumbent upon me to be

satisfied with a couch in keeping with my manner of journeying,

being averse, by any squeamish and over delicate airs, to

generate a suspicion amongst the people with whom I mingled

that I was aught higher than what my equipage and outward

appearance might lead them to believe.  Rising before daylight,

I again proceeded on my way, hoping ere night to be able to

reach Talavera, which I was informed was ten leagues distant.

The way lay entirely over an unbroken level, for the most part

covered with olive trees.  On the left, however, at the

distance of a few leagues, rose the mighty mountains which I

have already mentioned.  They run eastward in a seemingly

interminable range, parallel with the route which I was

pursuing; their tops and sides were covered with dazzling snow,

and the blasts which came sweeping from them across the wide

and melancholy plains were of bitter keenness.



"What mountains are those?" I inquired of a barber-

surgeon, who, mounted like myself on a grey burra, joined me

about noon, and proceeded in my company for several leagues.

"They have many names, Caballero," replied the barber;

"according to the names of the neighbouring places so they are

called.  Yon portion of them is styled the Serrania of

Plasencia; and opposite to Madrid they are termed the Mountains

of Guadarama, from a river of that name, which descends from

them; they run a vast way, Caballero, and separate the two

kingdoms, for on the other side is Old Castile.  They are

mighty mountains, and though they generate much cold, I take

pleasure in looking at them, which is not to be wondered at,

seeing that I was born amongst them, though at present, for my

sins, I live in a village of the plain.  Caballero, there is

not another such range in Spain; they have their secrets too -

their mysteries - strange tales are told of those hills, and of

what they contain in their deep recesses, for they are a broad

chain, and you may wander days and days amongst them without

coming to any termino.  Many have lost themselves on those

hills, and have never again been heard of.  Strange things are

told of them: it is said that in certain places there are deep

pools and lakes, in which dwell monsters, huge serpents as long

as a pine tree, and horses of the flood, which sometimes come

out and commit mighty damage.  One thing is certain, that

yonder, far away to the west, in the heart of those hills,

there is a wonderful valley, so narrow that only at midday is

the face of the sun to be descried from it.  That valley lay

undiscovered and unknown for thousands of years; no person

dreamed of its existence, but at last, a long time ago, certain

hunters entered it by chance, and then what do you think they

found, Caballero?  They found a small nation or tribe of

unknown people, speaking an unknown language, who, perhaps, had

lived there since the creation of the world, without

intercourse with the rest of their fellow creatures, and

without knowing that other beings besides themselves existed!

Caballero, did you never hear of the valley of the Batuecas?

Many books have been written about that valley and those

people.  Caballero, I am proud of yonder hills; and were I

independent, and without wife or children, I would purchase a

burra like that of your own, which I see is an excellent one,

and far superior to mine, and travel amongst them till I knew

all their mysteries, and had seen all the wondrous things which

they contain."



Throughout the day I pressed the burra forward, only

stopping once in order to feed the animal; but, notwithstanding

that she played her part very well, night came on, and I was

still about two leagues from Talavera.  As the sun went down,

the cold became intense; I drew the old Gypsy cloak, which I

still wore, closer around me, but I found it quite inadequate

to protect me from the inclemency of the atmosphere.  The road,

which lay over a plain, was not very distinctly traced, and

became in the dusk rather difficult to find, more especially as

cross roads leading to different places were of frequent

occurrence.  I, however, proceeded in the best manner I could,

and when I became dubious as to the course which I should take,

I invariably allowed the animal on which I was mounted to

decide.  At length the moon shone out faintly, when suddenly by

its beams I beheld a figure moving before me at a slight

distance.  I quickened the pace of the burra, and was soon

close at its side.  It went on, neither altering its pace nor

looking round for a moment.  It was the figure of a man, the

tallest and bulkiest that I had hitherto seen in Spain, dressed

in a manner strange and singular for the country.  On his head

was a hat with a low crown and broad brim, very much resembling

that of an English waggoner; about his body was a long loose

tunic or slop, seemingly of coarse ticken, open in front, so as

to allow the interior garments to be occasionally seen; these

appeared to consist of a jerkin and short velveteen pantaloons.

I have said that the brim of the hat was broad, but broad as it

was, it was insufficient to cover an immense bush of coal-black

hair, which, thick and curly, projected on either side; over

the left shoulder was flung a kind of satchel, and in the right

hand was held a long staff or pole.



There was something peculiarly strange about the figure,

but what struck me the most was the tranquillity with which it

moved along, taking no heed of me, though of course aware of my

proximity, but looking straight forward along the road, save

when it occasionally raised a huge face and large eyes towards

the moon, which was now shining forth in the eastern quarter.



"A cold night," said I at last.  "Is this the way to

Talavera?"



"It is the way to Talavera, and the night is cold."



"I am going to Talavera," said I, "as I suppose you are

yourself."



"I am going thither, so are you, BUENO."



The tones of the voice which delivered these words were

in their way quite as strange and singular as the figure to

which the voice belonged; they were not exactly the tones of a

Spanish voice, and yet there was something in them that could

hardly be foreign; the pronunciation also was correct; and the

language, though singular, faultless.  But I was most struck

with the manner in which the last word, BUENO, was spoken.  I

had heard something like it before, but where or when I could

by no means remember.  A pause now ensued; the figure stalking

on as before with the most perfect indifference, and seemingly

with no disposition either to seek or avoid conversation.



"Are you not afraid," said I at last, "to travel these

roads in the dark?  It is said that there are robbers abroad."



"Are you not rather afraid," replied the figure, "to

travel these roads in the dark? - you who are ignorant of the

country, who are a foreigner, an Englishman!"



"How is it that you know me to be an Englishman?"

demanded I, much surprised.



"That is no difficult matter," replied the figure; "the

sound of your voice was enough to tell me that."



"You speak of voices," said I; "suppose the tone of your

own voice were to tell me who you are?"



"That it will not do," replied my companion; "you know

nothing about me - you can know nothing about me."



"Be not sure of that, my friend; I am acquainted with

many things of which you have little idea."



"Por exemplo," said the figure.



"For example," said I; "you speak two languages."



The figure moved on, seemed to consider a moment, and

then said slowly BUENO.



"You have two names," I continued; "one for the house and

the other for the street; both are good, but the one by which

you are called at home is the one which you like best."



The man walked on about ten paces, in the same manner as

he had previously done; all of a sudden he turned, and taking

the bridle of the burra gently in his hand, stopped her.  I had

now a full view of his face and figure, and those huge features

and Herculean form still occasionally revisit me in my dreams.

I see him standing in the moonshine, staring me in the face

with his deep calm eyes.  At last he said:



"Are you then one of us?"



* * * *



It was late at night when we arrived at Talavera.  We

went to a large gloomy house, which my companion informed me

was the principal posada of the town.  We entered the kitchen,

at the extremity of which a large fire was blazing.  "Pepita,"

said my companion to a handsome girl, who advanced smiling

towards us; "a brasero and a private apartment; this cavalier

is a friend of mine, and we shall sup together."  We were shown

to an apartment in which were two alcoves containing beds.

After supper, which consisted of the very best, by the order of

my companion, we sat over the brasero and commenced talking.



MYSELF. - Of course you have conversed with Englishmen

before, else you could not have recognized me by the tone of my

voice.



ABARBENEL. - I was a young lad when the war of the

Independence broke out, and there came to the village in which

our family lived an English officer in order to teach

discipline to the new levies.  He was quartered in my father's

house, where he conceived a great affection for me.  On his

departure, with the consent of my father, I attended him

through the Castiles, partly as companion, partly as domestic.

I was with him nearly a year, when he was suddenly summoned to

return to his own country.  He would fain have taken me with

him, but to that my father would by no means consent.  It is

now five-and-twenty years since I last saw an Englishman; but

you have seen how I recognized you even in the dark night.



MYSELF. - And what kind of life do you pursue, and by

what means do you obtain support?



ABARBENEL. - I experience no difficulty.  I live much in

the same way as I believe my forefathers lived; certainly as my

father did, for his course has been mine.  At his death I took

possession of the herencia, for I was his only child.  It was

not requisite that I should follow any business, for my wealth

was great; yet, to avoid remark, I followed that of my father,

who was a longanizero.  I have occasionally dealt in wool: but

lazily, lazily - as I had no stimulus for exertion.  I was,

however, successful in many instances, strangely so; much more

than many others who toiled day and night, and whose whole soul

was in the trade.



MYSELF. - Have you any children?  Are you married?



ABARBENEL. - I have no children though I am married.  I

have a wife and an amiga, or I should rather say two wives, for

I am wedded to both.  I however call one my amiga, for

appearance sake, for I wish to live in quiet, and am unwilling

to offend the prejudices of the surrounding people.



MYSELF. - You say you are wealthy.  In what does your

wealth consist?



ABARBENEL. - In gold and silver, and stones of price; for

I have inherited all the hoards of my forefathers.  The greater

part is buried under ground; indeed, I have never examined the

tenth part of it.  I have coins of silver and gold older than

the times of Ferdinand the Accursed and Jezebel; I have also

large sums employed in usury.  We keep ourselves close,

however, and pretend to be poor, miserably so; but on certain

occasions, at our festivals, when our gates are barred, and our

savage dogs are let loose in the court, we eat our food off

services such as the Queen of Spain cannot boast of, and wash

our feet in ewers of silver, fashioned and wrought before the

Americas were discovered, though our garments are at all times

coarse, and our food for the most part of the plainest

description.



MYSELF. - Are there more of you than yourself and your

two wives?



ABARBENEL. - There are my two servants, who are likewise

of us; the one is a youth, and is about to leave, being

betrothed to one at some distance; the other is old; he is now

upon the road, following me with a mule and car.



MYSELF. - And whither are you bound at present?



ABARBENEL. - To Toledo, where I ply my trade occasionally

of longanizero.  I love to wander about, though I seldom stray

far from home.  Since I left the Englishman my feet have never

once stepped beyond the bounds of New Castile.  I love to visit

Toledo, and to think of the times which have long since

departed; I should establish myself there, were there not so

many accursed ones, who look upon me with an evil eye.



MYSELF. - Are you known for what you are?  Do the

authorities molest you?



ABARBENEL. - People of course suspect me to be what I am;

but as I conform outwardly in most respects to their ways, they

do not interfere with me.  True it is that sometimes, when I

enter the church to hear the mass, they glare at me over the

left shoulder, as much as to say - "What do you here?"  And

sometimes they cross themselves as I pass by; but as they go no

further, I do not trouble myself on that account.  With respect

to the authorities, they are not bad friends of mine.  Many of

the higher class have borrowed money from me on usury, so that

I have them to a certain extent in my power, and as for the low

alguazils and corchetes, they would do any thing to oblige me

in consideration of a few dollars, which I occasionally give

them; so that matters upon the whole go on remarkably well.  Of

old, indeed, it was far otherwise; yet, I know not how it was,

though other families suffered much, ours always enjoyed a

tolerable share of tranquillity.  The truth is, that our family

has always known how to guide itself wonderfully.  I may say

there is much of the wisdom of the snake amongst us.  We have

always possessed friends; and with respect to enemies, it is by

no means safe to meddle with us; for it is a rule of our house

never to forgive an injury, and to spare neither trouble nor

expense in bringing ruin and destruction upon the heads of our

evil doers.



MYSELF. - Do the priests interfere with you?



ABARBENEL. - They let me alone, especially in our own

neighbourhood.  Shortly after the death of my father, one hot-

headed individual endeavoured to do me an evil turn, but I soon

requited him, causing him to be imprisoned on a charge of

blasphemy, and in prison he remained a long time, till he went

mad and died.



MYSELF. - Have you a head in Spain, in whom is rested the

chief authority?



ABARBENEL. - Not exactly.  There are, however, certain

holy families who enjoy much consideration; my own is one of

these - the chiefest, I may say.  My grandsire was a

particularly holy man; and I have heard my father say, that one

night an archbishop came to his house secretly, merely to have

the satisfaction of kissing his head.



MYSELF. - How can that be; what reverence could an

archbishop entertain for one like yourself or your grandsire?



ABARBENEL. - More than you imagine.  He was one of us, at

least his father was, and he could never forget what he had

learned with reverence in his infancy.  He said he had tried to

forget it, but he could not; that the RUAH was continually upon

him, and that even from his childhood he had borne its terrors

with a troubled mind, till at last he could bear himself no

longer; so he went to my grandsire, with whom he remained one

whole night; he then returned to his diocese, where he shortly

afterwards died, in much renown for sanctity.



MYSELF. - What you say surprises me.  Have you reason to

suppose that many of you are to be found amongst the

priesthood?



ABARBENEL. - Not to suppose, but to know it.  There are

many such as I amongst the priesthood, and not amongst the

inferior priesthood either; some of the most learned and famed

of them in Spain have been of us, or of our blood at least, and

many of them at this day think as I do.  There is one

particular festival of the year at which four dignified

ecclesiastics are sure to visit me; and then, when all is made

close and secure, and the fitting ceremonies have been gone

through, they sit down upon the floor and curse.



MYSELF. - Are you numerous in the large towns?



ABARBENEL. - By no means; our places of abode are seldom

the large towns; we prefer the villages, and rarely enter the

large towns but on business.  Indeed we are not a numerous

people, and there are few provinces of Spain which contain more

than twenty families.  None of us are poor, and those among us

who serve, do so more from choice than necessity, for by

serving each other we acquire different trades.  Not

unfrequently the time of service is that of courtship also, and

the servants eventually marry the daughters of the house.



We continued in discourse the greater part of the night;

the next morning I prepared to depart.  My companion, however,

advised me to remain where I was for that day.  "And if you

respect my counsel," said he, "you will not proceed farther in

this manner.  To-night the diligence will arrive from

Estremadura, on its way to Madrid.  Deposit yourself therein;

it is the safest and most speedy mode of travelling.  As for

your animal, I will myself purchase her.  My servant is here,

and has informed me that she will be of service to us.  Let us,

therefore, pass the day together in communion, like brothers,

and then proceed on our separate journeys."  We did pass the

day together; and when the diligence arrived I deposited myself

within, and on the morning of the second day arrived at Madrid.







CHAPTER XII







Lodging at Madrid - My Hostess - British Ambassador -

Mendizabal - Baltasar - Duties of a National - Young Blood -

The Execution - Population of Madrid - The Higher Orders -

The Lower Classes - The Bull-fighter - The Crabbed Gitano.





It was the commencement of February when I reached

Madrid.  After staying a few days at a posada, I removed to a

lodging which I engaged at No. 3, in the Calle de la Zarza, a

dark dirty street, which, however, was close to the Puerta del

Sol, the most central point of Madrid, into which four or five

of the principal streets debouche, and which is, at all times

of the year, the great place of assemblage for the idlers of

the capital, poor or rich.



It was rather a singular house in which I had taken up my

abode.  I occupied the front part of the first floor; my

apartments consisted of an immense parlour, and a small chamber

on one side in which I slept; the parlour, notwithstanding its

size, contained very little furniture: a few chairs, a table,

and a species of sofa, constituted the whole.  It was very cold

and airy, owing to the draughts which poured in from three

large windows, and from sundry doors.  The mistress of the

house, attended by her two daughters, ushered me in.  "Did you

ever see a more magnificent apartment?" demanded the former;

"is it not fit for a king's son?  Last winter it was occupied

by the great General Espartero."



The hostess was an exceedingly fat woman, a native of

Valladolid, in Old Castile.  "Have you any other family," I

demanded, "besides these daughters?"  "Two sons," she replied;

"one of them an officer in the army, father of this urchin,"

pointing to a wicked but clever looking boy of about twelve,

who at that moment bounded into the room; "the other is the

most celebrated national in Madrid: he is a tailor by trade,

and his name is Baltasar.  He has much influence with the other

nationals, on account of the liberality of his opinions, and a

word from him is sufficient to bring them all out armed and

furious to the Puerta del Sol.  He is, however, at present

confined to his bed, for he is very dissipated and fond of the

company of bull-fighters and people still worse."



As my principal motive for visiting the Spanish capital

was the hope of obtaining permission from the government to

print the New Testament in the Castilian language, for

circulation in Spain, I lost no time, upon my arrival, in

taking what I considered to be the necessary steps.



I was an entire stranger at Madrid, and bore no letters

of introduction to any persons of influence, who might have

assisted me in this undertaking, so that, notwithstanding I

entertained a hope of success, relying on the assistance of the

Almighty, this hope was not at all times very vivid, but was

frequently overcast with the clouds of despondency.



Mendizabal was at this time prime minister of Spain, and

was considered as a man of almost unbounded power, in whose

hands were placed the destinies of the country.  I therefore

considered that if I could by any means induce him to favour my

views, I should have no reason to fear interruption from other

quarters, and I determined upon applying to him.



Before talking this step, however, I deemed it advisable

to wait upon Mr. Villiers, the British ambassador at Madrid;

and with the freedom permitted to a British subject, to ask his

advice in this affair.  I was received with great kindness, and

enjoyed a conversation with him on various subjects before I

introduced the matter which I had most at heart.  He said that

if I wished for an interview with Mendizabal, he would

endeavour to procure me one, but, at the same time, told me

frankly that he could not hope that any good would arise from

it, as he knew him to be violently prejudiced against the

British and Foreign Bible Society, and was far more likely to

discountenance than encourage any efforts which they might be

disposed to make for introducing the Gospel into Spain.  I,

however, remained resolute in my desire to make the trial, and

before I left him, obtained a letter of introduction to

Mendizabal.



Early one morning I repaired to the palace, in a wing of

which was the office of the Prime Minister; it was bitterly

cold, and the Guadarama, of which there is a noble view from

the palace-plain, was covered with snow.  For at least three

hours I remained shivering with cold in an ante-room, with

several other aspirants for an interview with the man of power.

At last his private secretary made his appearance, and after

putting various questions to the others, addressed himself to

me, asking who I was and what I wanted.  I told him that I was

an Englishman, and the bearer of a letter from the British

Minister.  "If you have no objection, I will myself deliver it

to His Excellency," said he; whereupon I handed it to him and

he withdrew.  Several individuals were admitted before me; at

last, however, my own turn came, and I was ushered into the

presence of Mendizabal.



He stood behind a table covered with papers, on which his

eyes were intently fixed.  He took not the slightest notice

when I entered, and I had leisure enough to survey him: he was

a huge athletic man, somewhat taller than myself, who measure

six feet two without my shoes; his complexion was florid, his

features fine and regular, his nose quite aquiline, and his

teeth splendidly white: though scarcely fifty years of age, his

hair was remarkably grey; he was dressed in a rich morning

gown, with a gold chain round his neck, and morocco slippers on

his feet.



His secretary, a fine intellectual looking man, who, as I

was subsequently informed, had acquired a name both in English

and Spanish literature, stood at one end of the table with

papers in his hands.



After I had been standing about a quarter of an hour,

Mendizabal suddenly lifted up a pair of sharp eyes, and fixed

them upon me with a peculiarly scrutinizing glance.



"I have seen a glance very similar to that amongst the

Beni Israel," thought I to myself. . . .





My interview with him lasted nearly an hour.  Some

singular discourse passed between us: I found him, as I had

been informed, a bitter enemy to the Bible Society, of which he

spoke in terms of hatred and contempt, and by no means a friend

to the Christian religion, which I could easily account for.  I

was not discouraged, however, and pressed upon him the matter

which brought me thither, and was eventually so far successful,

as to obtain a promise, that at the expiration of a few months,

when he hoped the country would be in a more tranquil state, I

should be allowed to print the Scriptures.



As I was going away he said, "Yours is not the first

application I have had; ever since I have held the reins of

government I have been pestered in this manner, by English

calling themselves Evangelical Christians, who have of late

come flocking over into Spain.  Only last week a hunchbacked

fellow found his way into my cabinet whilst I was engaged in

important business, and told me that Christ was coming. . . .

And now you have made your appearance, and almost persuaded me

to embroil myself yet more with the priesthood, as if they did

not abhor me enough already.  What a strange infatuation is

this which drives you over lands and waters with Bibles in your

hands.  My good sir, it is not Bibles we want, but rather guns

and gunpowder, to put the rebels down with, and above all,

money, that we may pay the troops; whenever you come with these

three things you shall have a hearty welcome, if not, we really

can dispense with your visits, however great the honour."



MYSELF. - There will be no end to the troubles of this

afflicted country until the gospel have free circulation.



MENDIZABAL. - I expected that answer, for I have not

lived thirteen years in England without forming some

acquaintance with the phraseology of you good folks.  Now, now,

pray go; you see how engaged I am.  Come again whenever you

please, but let it not be within the next three months.



"Don Jorge," said my hostess, coming into my apartment

one morning, whilst I sat at breakfast with my feet upon the

brasero, "here is my son Baltasarito, the national; he has

risen from his bed, and hearing that there is an Englishman in

the house, he has begged me to introduce him, for he loves

Englishmen on account of the liberality of their opinions;

there he is, what do you think of him?"



I did not state to his mother what I thought; it appeared

to me, however, that she was quite right calling him

Baltasarito, which is the diminutive of Baltasar, forasmuch as

that ancient and sonorous name had certainly never been

bestowed on a more diminutive personage: he might measure about

five feet one inch, though he was rather corpulent for his

height; his face looked yellow and sickly, he had, however, a

kind of fanfaronading air, and his eyes, which were of dark

brown, were both sharp and brilliant.  His dress, or rather his

undress, was somewhat shabby: he had a foraging cap on his

head, and in lieu of a morning gown, he wore a sentinel's old

great coat.



"I am glad to make your acquaintance, senor nacional,"

said I to him, after his mother had departed, and Baltasar had

taken his seat, and of course lighted a paper cigar at the

brasero.  "I am glad to have made your acquaintance, more

especially as your lady mother has informed me that you have

great influence with the nationals.  I am a stranger in Spain,

and may want a friend; fortune has been kind to me in procuring

me one who is a member of so powerful a body."



BALTASAR. - Yes, I have a great deal to say with the

other nationals; there is none in Madrid better known than

Baltasar, or more dreaded by the Carlists.  You say you may

stand in need of a friend; there is no fear of my failing you

in any emergency.  Both myself and any of the other nationals

will be proud to go out with you as padrinos, should you have

any affair of honour on your hands.  But why do you not become

one of us?  We would gladly receive you into our body.



MYSELF. - Is the duty of a national particularly hard?



BALTASAR. - By no means; we have to do duty about once

every fifteen days, and then there is occasionally a review,

which does not last long.  No! the duties of a national are by

no means onerous, and the privileges are great.  I have seen

three of my brother nationals walk up and down the Prado of a

Sunday, with sticks in their hands, cudgelling all the

suspicious characters, and it is our common practice to scour

the streets at night, and then if we meet any person who is

obnoxious to us, we fall upon him, and with a knife or a

bayonet generally leave him wallowing in his blood on the

pavement: no one but a national would be permitted to do that.



MYSELF. - Of course none but persons of liberal opinions

are to be found amongst the nationals?



BALTASAR. - Would it were so!  There are some amongst us,

Don Jorge, who are no better than they should be; they are few,

however, and for the most part well known.  Theirs is no

pleasant life, for when they mount guard with the rest they are

scouted, and not unfrequently cudgelled.  The law compels all

of a certain age either to serve in the army or to become

national soldiers on which account some of these Godos are to

be found amongst us.



MYSELF. - Are there many in Madrid of the Carlist

opinion?



BALTASAR. - Not among the young people; the greater part

of the Madrilenian Carlists capable of bearing arms departed

long ago to join the ranks of the factious in the Basque

provinces.  Those who remain are for the most part grey-beards

and priests, good for nothing but to assemble in private

coffee-houses, and to prate treason together.  Let them prate,

Don Jorge; let them prate; the destinies of Spain do not depend

on the wishes of ojalateros and pasteleros, but on the hands of

stout gallant nationals like myself and friends, Don Jorge.



MYSELF. - I am sorry to learn from your lady mother, that

you are strangely dissipated.



BALTASAR. - Ho, ho, Don Jorge, she has told you that, has

she; what would you have, Don Jorge?  I am young, and young

blood will have its course.  I am called Baltasar the gay by

all the other nationals, and it is on account of my gaiety and

the liberality of my opinions that I am so popular among them.

When I mount guard I invariably carry my guitar with me, and

then there is sure to be a function at the guardhouse.  We send

for wine, Don Jorge, and the nationals become wild, Don Jorge,

dancing and drinking through the night, whilst Baltasarito

strums the guitar and sings them songs of Germania:





"Una romi sin pachi

Le peno a su chindomar," &c., &c.





That is Gitano, Don Jorge; I learnt it from the toreros

of Andalusia, who all speak Gitano, and are mostly of Gypsy

blood.  I learnt it from them; they are all friends of mine,

Montes Sevilla and Poquito Pan.  I never miss a function of

bulls, Don Jorge.  Baltasar is sure to be there with his amiga.

Don Jorge, there are no bull-functions in the winter, or I

would carry you to one, but happily to-morrow there is an

execution, a funcion de la horca; and there we will go, Don

Jorge.



We did go to see this execution, which I shall long

remember.  The criminals were two young men, brothers; they

suffered for a most atrocious murder, having in the dead of

night broke open the house of an aged man, whom they put to

death, and whose property they stole.  Criminals in Spain are

not hanged as they are in England, or guillotined as in France,

but strangled upon a wooden stage.  They sit down on a kind of

chair with a post behind, to which is affixed an iron collar

with a screw; this iron collar is made to clasp the neck of the

prisoner, and on a certain signal it is drawn tighter and

tighter by means of the screw, until life becomes extinct.

After we had waited amongst the assembled multitude a

considerable time, the first of the culprits appeared; he was

mounted on an ass, without saddle or stirrups, his legs being

allowed to dangle nearly to the ground.  He was dressed in

yellow sulphur-coloured robes, with a high-peaked conical red

hat on his head, which was shaven.  Between his hands he held a

parchment, on which was written something, I believe the

confession of faith.  Two priests led the animal by the bridle;

two others walked on either side, chanting litanies, amongst

which I distinguished the words of heavenly peace and

tranquillity, for the culprit had been reconciled to the

church, had confessed and received absolution, and had been

promised admission to heaven.  He did not exhibit the least

symptom of fear, but dismounted from the animal and was led,

not supported, up the scaffold, where he was placed on the

chair, and the fatal collar put round his neck.  One of the

priests then in a loud voice commenced saying the Belief, and

the culprit repeated the words after him.  On a sudden, the

executioner, who stood behind, commenced turning the screw,

which was of prodigious force, and the wretched man - was

almost instantly a corpse; but, as the screw went round, the

priest began to shout, "PAX ET MISERICORDIA ET TRANQUILLITAS,"

and still as he shouted, his voice became louder and louder,

till the lofty walls of Madrid rang with it: then stooping

down, he placed his mouth close to the culprit's ear, still

shouting, just as if he would pursue the spirit through its

course to eternity, cheering it on its way.  The effect was

tremendous.  I myself was so excited that I involuntarily

shouted "MISERICORDIA," and so did many others.  God was not

thought of; Christ was not thought of; only the priest was

thought of, for he seemed at that moment to be the first being

in existence, and to have the power of opening and shutting the

gates of heaven or of hell, just as he should think proper.  A

striking instance of the successful working of the Popish

system, whose grand aim has ever been to keep people's minds as

far as possible from God, and to centre their hopes and fears

in the priesthood.  The execution of the second culprit was

precisely similar; he ascended the scaffold a few minutes after

his brother had breathed his last.



I have visited most of the principal capitals of the

world, but upon the whole none has ever so interested me as

this city of Madrid, in which I now found myself.  I will not

dwell upon its streets, its edifices, its public squares, its

fountains, though some of these are remarkable enough: but

Petersburg has finer streets, Paris and Edinburgh more stately

edifices, London far nobler squares, whilst Shiraz can boast of

more costly fountains, though not cooler waters.  But the

population!  Within a mud wall, scarcely one league and a half

in circuit, are contained two hundred thousand human beings,

certainly forming the most extraordinary vital mass to be found

in the entire world; and be it always remembered that this mass

is strictly Spanish.  The population of Constantinople is

extraordinary enough, but to form it twenty nations have

contributed; Greeks, Armenians, Persians, Poles, Jews, the

latter, by the by, of Spanish origin, and speaking amongst

themselves the old Spanish language; but the huge population of

Madrid, with the exception of a sprinkling of foreigners,

chiefly French tailors, glove-makers and peruquiers, is

strictly Spanish, though a considerable portion are not natives

of the place.  Here are no colonies of Germans, as at Saint

Petersburg; no English factories, as at Lisbon; no multitudes

of insolent Yankees lounging through the streets as at the

Havannah, with an air which seems to say, the land is our own

whenever we choose to take it; but a population which, however

strange and wild, and composed of various elements, is Spanish,

and will remain so as long as the city itself shall exist.

Hail, ye aguadores of Asturia! who, in your dress of coarse

duffel and leathern skull-caps, are seen seated in hundreds by

the fountain sides, upon your empty water-casks, or staggering

with them filled to the topmost stories of lofty houses.  Hail,

ye caleseros of Valencia! who, lolling lazily against your

vehicles, rasp tobacco for your paper cigars whilst waiting for

a fare.  Hail to you, beggars of La Mancha! men and women, who,

wrapped in coarse blankets, demand charity indifferently at the

gate of the palace or the prison.  Hail to you, valets from the

mountains, mayordomos and secretaries from Biscay and

Guipuscoa, toreros from Andalusia, riposteros from Galicia,

shopkeepers from Catalonia!  Hail to ye, Castilians,

Estremenians and Aragonese, of whatever calling!  And lastly,

genuine sons of the capital, rabble of Madrid, ye twenty

thousand manolos, whose terrible knifes, on the second morning

of May, worked such grim havoc amongst the legions of Murat!



And the higher orders - the ladies and gentlemen, the

cavaliers and senoras; shall I pass them by in silence?  The

truth is I have little to say about them; I mingled but little

in their society, and what I saw of them by no means tended to

exalt them in my imagination.  I am not one of those who,

wherever they go, make it a constant practice to disparage the

higher orders, and to exalt the populace at their expense.

There are many capitals in which the high aristocracy, the

lords and ladies, the sons and daughters of nobility,

constitute the most remarkable and the most interesting part of

the population.  This is the case at Vienna, and more

especially at London.  Who can rival the English aristocrat in

lofty stature, in dignified bearing, in strength of hand, and

valour of heart?  Who rides a nobler horse?  Who has a firmer

seat?  And who more lovely than his wife, or sister, or

daughter?  But with respect to the Spanish aristocracy, the

ladies and gentlemen, the cavaliers and senoras, I believe the

less that is said of them on the points to which I have just

alluded the better.  I confess, however, that I know little

about them; they have, perhaps, their admirers, and to the pens

of such I leave their panegyric.  Le Sage has described them as

they were nearly two centuries ago.  His description is

anything but captivating, and I do not think that they have

improved since the period of the sketches of the immortal

Frenchman.  I would sooner talk of the lower class, not only of

Madrid but of all Spain.  The Spaniard of the lower class has

much more interest for me, whether manolo, labourer, or

muleteer.  He is not a common being; he is an extraordinary

man.  He has not, it is true, the amiability and generosity of

the Russian mujik, who will give his only rouble rather than

the stranger shall want; nor his placid courage, which renders

him insensible to fear, and at the command of his Tsar, sends

him singing to certain death. * There is more hardness and less

self-devotion in the disposition of the Spaniard; he possesses,

however, a spirit of proud independence, which it is impossible

but to admire.  He is ignorant, of course; but it is singular

that I have invariably found amongst the low and slightly

educated classes far more liberality of sentiment than amongst

the upper.  It has long been the fashion to talk of the bigotry

of the Spaniards, and their mean jealousy of foreigners.  This

is true to a certain extent: but it chiefly holds good with

respect to the upper classes.  If foreign valour or talent has

never received its proper meed in Spain, the great body of the

Spaniards are certainly not in fault.  I have heard Wellington

calumniated in this proud scene of his triumphs, but never by

the old soldiers of Aragon and the Asturias, who assisted to

vanquish the French at Salamanca and the Pyrenees.  I have

heard the manner of riding of an English jockey criticized, but

it was by the idiotic heir of Medina Celi, and not by a picador

of the Madrilenian bull ring.



* At the last attack on Warsaw, when the loss of the

Russians amounted to upwards of twenty thousand men, the

soldiery mounted the breach, repeating in measured chant, one

of their popular songs: "Come, let us cut the cabbage," &c.



Apropos of bull-fighters:- Shortly after my arrival, I

one day entered a low tavern in a neighbourhood notorious for

robbery and murder, and in which for the last two hours I had

been wandering on a voyage of discovery.  I was fatigued, and

required refreshment.  I found the place thronged with people,

who had all the appearance of ruffians.  I saluted them, upon

which they made way for me to the bar, taking off their

sombreros with great ceremony.  I emptied a glass of val de

penas, and was about to pay for it and depart, when a horrible

looking fellow, dressed in a buff jerkin, leather breeches, and

jackboots, which came half way up his thighs, and having on his

head a white hat, the rims of which were at least a yard and a

half in circumference, pushed through the crowd, and

confronting me, roared:-



"OTRA COPITA! VAMOS INGLESITO: OTRA COPITA!"



"Thank you, my good sir, you are very kind, you appear to

know me, but I have not the honour of knowing you."



"Not know me!" replied the being.  "I am Sevilla, the

torero.  I know you well; you are the friend of Baltasarito,

the national, who is a friend of mine, and a very good

subject."



Then turning to the company, he said in a sonorous tone,

laying a strong emphasis on the last syllable of every word,

according to the custom of the gente rufianesca throughout

Spain:



"Cavaliers, and strong men, this cavalier is the friend

of a friend of mine.  ES MUCHO HOMBRE.  There is none like him

in Spain.  He speaks the crabbed Gitano though he is an

Inglesito."



"We do not believe it," replied several grave voices.

"It is not possible."



"It is not possible, say you?  I tell you it is.  Come

forward, Balseiro, you who have been in prison all your life,

and are always boasting that you can speak the crabbed Gitano,

though I say you know nothing of it - come forward and speak to

his worship in the crabbed Gitano."



A low, slight, but active figure stepped forward.  He was

in his shirt sleeves, and wore a montero cap; his features were

handsome, but they were those of a demon.



He spoke a few words in the broken Gypsy slang of the

prison, inquiring of me whether I had ever been in the

condemned cell, and whether I knew what a Gitana * was?



* Twelve ounces of bread, small pound, as given in the

prison.



"Vamos Inglesito," shouted Sevilla in a voice of thunder;

"answer the monro in the crabbed Gitano."



I answered the robber, for such he was, and one, too,

whose name will live for many a year in the ruffian histories

of Madrid; I answered him in a speech of some length, in the

dialect of the Estremenian Gypsies.



"I believe it is the crabbed Gitano," muttered Balseiro.

"It is either that or English, for I understand not a word of

it."



"Did I not say to you," cried the bull-fighter, "that you

knew nothing of the crabbed Gitano?  But this Inglesito does.

I understood all he said.  Vaya, there is none like him for the

crabbed Gitano.  He is a good ginete, too; next to myself,

there is none like him, only he rides with stirrup leathers too

short.  Inglesito, if you have need of money, I will lend you

my purse.  All I have is at your service, and that is not a

little; I have just gained four thousand chules by the lottery.

Courage, Englishman!  Another cup.  I will pay all.  I,

Sevilla!"



And he clapped his hand repeatedly on his breast,

reiterating "I, Sevilla!  I - "







CHAPTER XIII







Intrigues at Court - Quesada and Galiano - Dissolution of the Cortes -

The Secretary - Aragonese Pertinacity - The  Council of Trent -

The Asturian - The Three Thieves - Benedict Mol - The Men of Lucerne -

The Treasure





Mendizabal had told me to call upon him again at the end

of three months, giving me hopes that he would not then oppose

himself to the publication of the New Testament; before,

however, the three months had elapsed, he had fallen into

disgrace, and had ceased to be prime minister.



An intrigue had been formed against him, at the head of

which were two quondam friends of his, and fellow-townsmen,

Gaditanians, Isturitz and Alcala Galiano; both of them had been

egregious liberals in their day, and indeed principal members

of those cortes which, on the Angouleme invasion, had hurried

Ferdinand from Madrid to Cadiz, and kept him prisoner there

until that impregnable town thought proper to surrender, and

both of them had been subsequently refugees in England, where

they had spent a considerable number of years.



These gentlemen, however, finding themselves about this

time exceedingly poor, and not seeing any immediate prospect of

advantage from supporting Mendizabal; considering themselves,

moreover, quite as good men as he, and as capable of governing

Spain in the present emergency; determined to secede from the

party of their friend, whom they had hitherto supported, and to

set up for themselves.



They therefore formed an opposition to Mendizabal in the

cortes; the members of this opposition assumed the name of

moderados, in contra-distinction to Mendizabal and his

followers, who were ultra liberals.  The moderados were

encouraged by the Queen Regent Christina, who aimed at a little

more power than the liberals were disposed to allow her, and

who had a personal dislike to the minister.  They were likewise

encouraged by Cordova, who at that time commanded the army, and

was displeased with Mendizabal, inasmuch as the latter did not

supply the pecuniary demands of the general with sufficient

alacrity, though it is said that the greater part of what was

sent for the payment of the troops was not devoted to that

purpose, but, was invested in the French funds in the name and

for the use and behoof of the said Cordova.



It is, however, by no means my intention to write an

account of the political events which were passing around me at

this period; suffice it to say, that Mendizabal finding himself

thwarted in all his projects by the regent and the general, the

former of whom would adopt no measure which he recommended,

whilst the latter remained inactive and refused to engage the

enemy, which by this time had recovered from the check caused

by the death of Zumalacarregui, and was making considerable

progress, resigned and left the field for the time open to his

adversaries, though he possessed an immense majority in the

cortes, and had the voice of the nation, at least the liberal

part of it, in his favour.



Thereupon, Isturitz became head of the cabinet, Galiano

minister of marine, and a certain Duke of Rivas minister of the

interior.  These were the heads of the moderado government, but

as they were by no means popular at Madrid, and feared the

nationals, they associated with themselves one who hated the

latter body and feared nothing, a man of the name of Quesada, a

very stupid individual, but a great fighter, who, at one period

of his life, had commanded a legion or body of men called the

Army of the Faith, whose exploits both on the French and

Spanish side of the Pyrenees are too well known to require

recapitulation.  This person was made captain general of

Madrid.



By far the most clever member of this government was

Galiano, whose acquaintance I had formed shortly after my

arrival.  He was a man of considerable literature, and

particularly well versed in that of his own country.  He was,

moreover, a fluent, elegant, and forcible speaker, and was to

the moderado party within the cortes what Quesada was without,

namely, their horses and chariots.  Why he was made minister of

marine is difficult to say, as Spain did not possess any;

perhaps, however, from his knowledge of the English language,

which he spoke and wrote nearly as well as his own tongue,

having indeed during his sojourn in England chiefly supported

himself by writing for reviews and journals, an honourable

occupation, but to which few foreign exiles in England would be

qualified to devote themselves.



He was a very small and irritable man, and a bitter enemy

to every person who stood in the way of his advancement.  He

hated Mendizabal with undisguised rancour, and never spoke of

him but in terms of unmeasured contempt.  "I am afraid that I

shall have some difficulty in inducing Mendizabal to give me

permission to print the Testament," said I to him one day.

"Mendizabal is a jackass," replied Galiano.  "Caligula made his

horse consul, which I suppose induced Lord - to send over this

huge burro of the Stock Exchange to be our minister."



It would be very ungrateful on my part were I not to

confess my great obligations to Galiano, who assisted me to the

utmost of his power in the business which had brought me to

Spain.  Shortly after the ministry was formed, I went to him

and said, "that now or never was the time to mike an effort in

my behalf."  "I will do so," said he, in a waspish tone; for he

always spoke waspishly whether to friend or foe; "but you must

have patience for a few days, we are very much occupied at

present.  We have been outvoted in the cortes, and this

afternoon we intend to dissolve them.  It is believed that the

rascals will refuse to depart, but Quesada will stand at the

door ready to turn them out, should they prove refractory.

Come along, and you will perhaps see a funcion."



After an hour's debate, the cortes were dissolved without

it being necessary to call in the aid of the redoubtable

Quesada, and Galiano forthwith gave me a letter to his

colleague the Duke of Rivas, in whose department he told me was

vested the power either of giving or refusing the permission to

print the book in question.  The duke was a very handsome young

man, of about thirty, an Andalusian by birth, like his two

colleagues.  He had published several works, tragedies, I

believe, and enjoyed a certain kind of literary reputation.  He

received me with the greatest affability; and having heard what

I had to say, he replied with a most captivating bow, and a

genuine Andalusian grimace: "Go to my secretary; go to my

secretary - EL HARA POR USTED EL GUSIO."  So I went to the

secretary, whose name was Oliban, an Aragonese, who was not

handsome, and whose manners were neither elegant nor affable.

"You want permission to print the Testament?"  "I do," said I.

"And you have come to His Excellency about it," continued

Oliban.  "Very true," I replied.  "I suppose you intend to

print it without notes."  "Yes."  "Then His Excellency cannot

give you permission," said the Aragonese secretary: "it was

determined by the Council of Trent that no part of the

Scripture should be printed in any Christian country without

the notes of the church."  "How many years was that ago?" I

demanded.  "I do not know how many years ago it was," said

Oliban; "but such was the decree of the Council of Trent."  "Is

Spain at present governed according to the decrees of the

Council of Trent?" I inquired.  "In some points she is,"

answered the Aragonese, "and this is one.  But tell me who are

you?  Are you known to the British minister?"  "O yes, and he

takes a great interest in the matter."  "Does he?" said Oliban;

"that indeed alters the case: if you can show me that His

Excellency takes in interest in this business, I certainly

shall not oppose myself to it."



The British minister performed all I could wish, and much

more than I could expect; he had an interview with the Duke of

Rivas, with whom he had much discourse upon my affair: the duke

was all smiles and courtesy.  He moreover wrote a private

letter to the duke, which he advised me to present when I next

paid him a visit, and, to crown all, he wrote a letter directed

to myself, in which he did me the honour to say that he had a

regard for me, and that nothing would afford him greater

pleasure than to hear that I had obtained the permission which

I was seeking.  So I went to the duke, and delivered the

letter.  He was ten times more kind and affable than before: he

read the letter, smiled most sweetly, and then, as if seized

with sudden enthusiasm, he extended his arms in a manner almost

theatrical, exclaiming, "AL SECRETARIO, EL HARA POR USTED EL

GUSTO."  Away I hurried to the secretary, who received me with

all the coolness of an icicle: I related to him the words of

his principal, and then put into his hand the letter of the

British minister to myself.  The secretary read it very

deliberately, and then said that it was evident His Excellency

did take an interest in the matter.  He then asked me my name,

and taking a sheet of paper, sat down as if for the purpose of

writing the permission.  I was in ecstasy - all of a sudden,

however, he stopped, lifted up his head, seemed to consider a

moment, and then putting his pen behind his ear, he said,

"Amongst the decrees of the Council of Trent is one to the

effect" . . . .





"Oh dear!" said I.



"A singular person is this Oliban," said I to Galiano;

"you cannot imagine what trouble he gives me: he is continually

talking about the Council of Trent."



"I wish he was in the Trent up to the middle," said

Galiano, who, as I have observed already, spoke excellent

English; "I wish he was there for talking such nonsense.

However," said he, "we must not offend Oliban, he is one of us,

and has done us much service; he is, moreover, a very clever

man, but he is an Aragonese, and when one of that nation once

gets an idea into his head, it is the most difficult thing in

the world to dislodge it; however, we will go to him; he is an

old friend of mine, and I have no doubt but that we shall be

able to make him listen to reason."  So the next day I called

upon Galiano, at his marine or admiralty office (what shall I

call it?), and from thence we proceeded to the bureau of the

interior, a magnificent edifice, which had formerly been the

casa of the Inquisition, where we had an interview with Oliban,

whom Galiano took aside to the window, and there held with him

a long conversation, which, as they spoke in whispers, and the

room was immensely large, I did not hear.  At length Galiano

came to me and said, "There is some difficulty with respect to

this business of yours, but I have told Oliban that you are a

friend of mine, and he says that that is sufficient; remain

with him now, and he will do anything to oblige you; your

affair is settled - farewell"; whereupon he departed and I

remained with Oliban, who proceeded forthwith to write

something, which having concluded, he took out a box of cigars,

and having lighted one and offered me another, which I declined

as I do not smoke, he placed his feet against the table, and

thus proceeded to address me, speaking in the French language.



"It is with great pleasure that I see you in this

capital, and, I may say, upon this business.  I consider it a

disgrace to Spain that there is no edition of the Gospel in

circulation, at least such a one as would be within the reach

of all classes of society, the highest or poorest; one

unencumbered with notes and commentaries, human devices,

swelling it to an unwieldy bulk.  I have no doubt that such an

edition as you propose to print, would have a most beneficial

influence on the minds of the people, who, between ourselves,

know nothing of pure religion; how should they? seeing that the

Gospel has always been sedulously kept from them, just as if

civilization could exist where the light of the Gospel beameth

not.  The moral regeneration of Spain depends upon the free

circulation of the Scriptures; to which alone England, your own

happy country, is indebted for its high state of civilization,

and the unmatched prosperity which it at present enjoys; all

this I admit, in fact, reason compels me to do so, but - "



"Now for it," thought I.



"But" - and then he began to talk once more of the

wearisome Council of Trent, and I found that his writing in the

paper, the offer of the cigar, and the long and prosy harangue

were - what shall I call it? - mere [Greek word which cannot be

reproduced].



By this time the spring was far advanced, the sides

though not the tops of the Guadarama hills had long since lost

their snows; the trees of the Prado had donned their full

foliage, and all the Campina in the neighbourhood of Madrid

smiled and was happy: the summer heats had not commenced, and

the weather was truly delicious.



Towards the west, at the foot of the hill on which stands

Madrid, is a canal running parallel with the Manzanares for

some leagues, from which it is separated by pleasant and

fertile meadows.  The banks of this canal, which was begun by

Carlos Tercero, and has never been completed, are planted with

beautiful trees, and form the most delightful walk in the

neighbourhood of the capital.  Here I would loiter for hours

looking at the shoals of gold and silver fish which basked on

the surface of the green sunny waters, or listening, not to the

warbling of birds - for Spain is not the land of feathered

choristers - but to the prattle of the narangero or man who

sold oranges and water by a little deserted watch tower just

opposite the wooden bridge that crosses the canal, which

situation he had chosen as favourable for his trade, and there

had placed his stall.  He was an Asturian by birth, about fifty

years of age, and about five feet high.  As I purchased freely

of his fruit, he soon conceived a great friendship for me, and

told me his history; it contained, however, nothing very

remarkable, the leading incident being an adventure which had

befallen him amidst the mountains of Granada, where, falling

into the hands of certain Gypsies, they stripped him naked, and

then dismissed him with a sound cudgelling.  "I have wandered

throughout Spain," said he, "and I have come to the conclusion

that there are but two places worth living in, Malaga and

Madrid.  At Malaga everything is very cheap, and there is such

an abundance of fish, that I have frequently seen them piled in

heaps on the sea-shore: and as for Madrid, money is always

stirring at the Corte, and I never go supperless to bed; my

only care is to sell my oranges, and my only hope that when I

die I shall be buried yonder."



And he pointed across the Manzanares, where, on the

declivity of a gentle hill, at about a league's distance, shone

brightly in the sunshine the white walls of the Campo Santo, or

common burying ground of Madrid.



He was a fellow of infinite drollery, and, though he

could scarcely read or write, by no means ignorant of the ways

of the world; his knowledge of individuals was curious and

extensive, few people passing his stall with whose names,

character, and history he was not acquainted.  "Those two

gentry," said he, pointing to a magnificently dressed cavalier

and lady, who had dismounted from a carriage, and arm in arm

were coming across the wooden bridge, followed by two

attendants; "those gentry are the Infante Francisco Paulo, and

his wife the Neapolitana, sister of our Christina; he is a very

good subject, but as for his wife - vaya - the veriest scold in

Madrid; she can say carrajo with the most ill-conditioned

carrier of La Mancha, giving the true emphasis and genuine

pronunciation.  Don't take off your hat to her, amigo - she has

neither formality nor politeness - I once saluted her, and she

took no more notice of me than if I had not been what I am, an

Asturian and a gentleman, of better blood than herself.  Good

day, Senor Don Francisco.  Que tal (HOW GOES IT)? very fine

weather this - VAYA SU MERCED CON DIOS.  Those three fellows

who just stopped to drink water are great thieves, true sons of

the prison; I am always civil to them, for it would not do to

be on ill terms; they pay me or not, just as they think proper.

I have been in some trouble on their account: about a year ago

they robbed a man a little farther on beyond the second bridge.

By the way, I counsel you, brother, not to go there, as I

believe you often do - it is a dangerous place.  They robbed a

gentleman and ill-treated him, but his brother, who was an

escribano, was soon upon their trail, and had them arrested;

but he wanted someone to identify them, and it chanced that

they had stopped to drink water at my stall, just as they did

now.  This the escribano heard of, and forthwith had me away to

the prison to confront me with them.  I knew them well enough,

but I had learnt in my travels when to close my eyes and when

to open them; so I told the escribano that I could not say that

I had ever seen them before.  He was in a great rage and

threatened to imprison me; I told him he might and that I cared

not.  Vaya, I was not going to expose myself to the resentment

of those three and to that of their friends; I live too near

the Hay Market for that.  Good day, my young masters. - Murcian

oranges, as you see; the genuine dragon's blood.  Water sweet

and cold.  Those two boys are the children of Gabiria,

comptroller of the queen's household, and the richest man in

Madrid; they are nice boys, and buy much fruit.  It is said

their father loves them more than all his possessions.  The old

woman who is lying beneath yon tree is the Tia Lucilla; she has

committed murders, and as she owes me money, I hope one day to

see her executed.  This man was of the Walloon guard; - Senor

Don Benito Mol, how do you do?"



This last named personage instantly engrossed my

attention; he was a bulky old man, somewhat above the middle

height, with white hair and ruddy features; his eyes were large

and blue, and whenever he fixed them on any one's countenance,

were full of an expression of great eagerness, as if he were

expecting the communication of some important tidings.  He was

dressed commonly enough, in a jacket and trousers of coarse

cloth of a russet colour, on his head was an immense sombrero,

the brim of which had been much cut and mutilated, so as in

some places to resemble the jags or denticles of a saw.  He

returned the salutation of the orange-man, and bowing to me,

forthwith produced two scented wash-balls which he offered for

sale in a rough dissonant jargon, intended for Spanish, but

which seemed more like the Valencian or Catalan.



Upon my asking him who he was, the following conversation

ensued between us:



"I am a Swiss of Lucerne, Benedict Mol by name, once a

soldier in the Walloon guard, and now a soap-boiler, at your

service."



"You speak the language of Spain very imperfectly," said

I; "how long have you been in the country?"



"Forty-five years," replied Benedict; "but when the guard

was broken up, I went to Minorca, where I lost the Spanish

language without acquiring the Catalan."



"You have been a soldier of the king of Spain," said I;

"how did you like the service?"



"Not so well, but that I should have been glad to leave

it forty years ago; the pay was bad, and the treatment worse.

I will now speak Swiss to you, for, if I am not much mistaken,

you are a German man, and understand the speech of Lucerne; I

should soon have deserted from the service of Spain, as I did

from that of the Pope, whose soldier I was in my early youth

before I came here; but I had married a woman of Minorca, by

whom I had two children; it was this that detained me in those

parts so long; before, however, I left Minorca, my wife died,

and as for my children, one went east, the other west, and I

know not what became of them; I intend shortly to return to

Lucerne, and live there like a duke."



"Have you, then, realized a large capital in Spain?" said

I, glancing at his hat and the rest of his apparel.



"Not a cuart, not a cuart; these two wash-balls are all

that I possess."



"Perhaps you are the son of good parents, and have lands

and money in your own country wherewith to support yourself."



"Not a heller, not a heller; my father was hangman of

Lucerne, and when he died, his body was seized to pay his

debts."



"Then doubtless," said I, "you intend to ply your trade

of soap-boiling at Lucerne; you are quite right, my friend, I

know of no occupation more honourable or useful."



"I have no thoughts of plying my trade at Lucerne,"

replied Bennet; "and now, as I see you are a German man, Lieber

Herr, and as I like your countenance and your manner of

speaking, I will tell you in confidence that I know very little

of my trade, and have already been turned out of several

fabriques as an evil workman; the two wash-balls that I carry

in my pocket are not of my own making.  IN KURTZEN, I know

little more of soap-boiling than I do of tailoring, horse-

farriery, or shoe-making, all of which I have practised."



"Then I know not how you can hope to live like a hertzog

in your native canton, unless you expect that the men of

Lucerne, in consideration of your services to the Pope and to

the king of Spain, will maintain you in splendour at the public

expense."



"Lieber Herr," said Benedict, "the men of Lucerne are by

no means fond of maintaining the soldiers of the Pope and the

king of Spain at their own expense; many of the guard who have

returned thither beg their bread in the streets, but when I go,

it shall be in a coach drawn by six mules, with a treasure, a

mighty schatz which lies in the church of Saint James of

Compostella, in Galicia."



"I hope you do not intend to rob the church," said I; "

if you do, however, I believe you will be disappointed.

Mendizabal and the liberals have been beforehand with you.  I

am informed that at present no other treasure is to be found in

the cathedrals of Spain than a few paltry ornaments and plated

utensils."



"My good German Herr," said Benedict, "it is no church

schatz, and no person living, save myself, knows of its

existence: nearly thirty years ago, amongst the sick soldiers

who were brought to Madrid, was one of my comrades of the

Walloon Guard, who had accompanied the French to Portugal; he

was very sick and shortly died.  Before, however, he breathed

his last, he sent for me, and upon his deathbed told me that

himself and two other soldiers, both of whom had since been

killed, had buried in a certain church at Compostella a great

booty which they had made in Portugal: it consisted of gold

moidores and of a packet of huge diamonds from the Brazils; the

whole was contained in a large copper kettle.  I listened with

greedy ears, and from that moment, I may say, I have known no

rest, neither by day nor night, thinking of the schatz.  It is

very easy to find, for the dying man was so exact in his

description of the place where it lies, that were I once at

Compostella, I should have no difficulty in putting my hand

upon it; several times I have been on the point of setting out

on the journey, but something has always happened to stop me.

When my wife died, I left Minorca with a determination to go to

Saint James, but on reaching Madrid, I fell into the hands of a

Basque woman, who persuaded me to live with her, which I have

done for several years; she is a great hax, * and says that if

I desert her she will breathe a spell which shall cling to me

for ever.  DEM GOT SEY DANK, - she is now in the hospital, and

daily expected to die.  This is my history, Lieber Herr."



* Witch.  Ger.  Hexe.



I have been the more careful in relating the above

conversation, as I shall have frequent occasion to mention the

Swiss in the course of these journals; his subsequent

adventures were highly extraordinary, and the closing one

caused a great sensation in Spain.







CHAPTER XIV







State of Spain - Isturitz - Revolution of the Granja - The Disturbance -

Signs of Mischief - Newspaper Reporters - Quesada's Onslaught -

The Closing Scene - Flight of the Moderados - The Coffee Bowl.





In the meantime the affairs of the moderados did not

proceed in a very satisfactory manner; they were unpopular at

Madrid, and still more so in the other large towns of Spain, in

most of which juntas had been formed, which, taking the local

administration into their own hands, declared themselves

independent of the queen and her ministers, and refused to pay

taxes; so that the government was within a short time reduced

to great straits for money; the army was unpaid, and the war

languished; I mean on the part of the Christinos, for the

Carlists were pushing it on with considerable vigour; parties

of their guerillas scouring the country in all directions,

whilst a large division, under the celebrated Gomez, was making

the entire circuit of Spain.  To crown the whole, an

insurrection was daily expected at Madrid, to prevent which the

nationals were disarmed, which measure tended greatly to

increase their hatred against the moderado government, and

especially against Quesada, with whom it was supposed to have

originated.



With respect to my own matters, I lost no opportunity of

pushing forward my application; the Aragonese secretary,

however, still harped upon the Council of Trent, and succeeded

in baffling all my efforts.  He appeared to have inoculated his

principal with his own ideas upon the subject, for the duke,

when he beheld me at his levees, took no farther notice of me

than by a contemptuous glance; and once, when I stepped up for

the purpose of addressing him, disappeared through a side door,

and I never saw him again, for I was disgusted with the

treatment which I had received, and forebore paying any more

visits at the Casa de la Inquisicion.  Poor Galiano still

proved himself my unshaken friend, but candidly informed me

that there was no hope of my succeeding in the above quarter.

"The duke," said he, "says that your request cannot be granted;

and the other day, when I myself mentioned it in the council,

began to talk of the decision of Trent, and spoke of yourself

as a plaguy pestilent fellow; whereupon I answered him with

some acrimony, and there ensued a bit of a function between us,

at which Isturitz laughed heartily.  By the by," continued he,

"what need have you of a regular permission, which it does not

appear that any one has authority to grant.  The best thing

that you can do under all circumstances is to commit the work

to the press, with an understanding that you shall not be

interfered with when you attempt to distribute it. I strongly

advise you to see Isturitz himself upon the matter.  I will

prepare him for the interview, and will answer that he receives

you civilly."



In fact, a few days afterwards, I had an interview with

Isturitz at the palace, and for the sake of brevity I shall

content myself with saying that I found him perfectly well

disposed to favour my views.  "I have lived long in England,"

said he; "the Bible is free there, and I see no reason why it

should not be free in Spain also.  I am not prepared to say

that England is indebted for her prosperity to the knowledge

which all her children, more or less, possess of the sacred

writings; but of one thing I am sure, namely, that the Bible

has done no harm in that country, nor do I believe that it will

effect any in Spain; print it, therefore, by all means, and

circulate it as extensively as possible."  I retired, highly

satisfied with my interview, having obtained, if not a written

permission to print the sacred volume, what, under all

circumstances, I considered as almost equivalent, an

understanding that my biblical pursuits would be tolerated in

Spain; and I had fervent hope that whatever was the fate of the

present ministry, no future one, particularly a liberal one,

would venture to interfere with me, more especially as the

English ambassador was my friend, and was privy to all the

steps I had taken throughout the whole affair.



Two or three things connected with the above interview

with Isturitz struck me as being highly remarkable.  First of

all, the extreme facility with which I obtained admission to

the presence of the prime minister of Spain.  I had not to

wait, or indeed to send in my name, but was introduced at once

by the door-keeper.  Secondly, the air of loneliness which

pervaded the place, so unlike the bustle, noise, and activity

which I observed when I waited on Mendizabal.  In this

instance, there were no eager candidates for an interview with

the great man; indeed, I did not behold a single individual,

with the exception of Isturitz and the official.  But that

which made the most profound impression upon me, was the manner

of the minister himself, who, when I entered, sat upon a sofa,

with his arms folded, and his eyes directed to the ground.

When he spoke there was extreme depression in the tones of his

voice, his dark features wore an air of melancholy, and he

exhibited all the appearance of a person meditating to escape

from the miseries of this life by the most desperate of all

acts - suicide.



And a few days showed that he had, indeed, cause for much

melancholy meditation: in less than a week occurred the

revolution of the Granja, as it is called.  The Granja, or

Grange, is a royal country seat, situated amongst pine forests,

on the other side of the Guadarama hills, about twelve leagues

distant from Madrid.  To this place the queen regent Christina

had retired, in order to be aloof from the discontent of the

capital, and to enjoy rural air and amusements in this

celebrated retreat, a monument of the taste and magnificence of

the first Bourbon who ascended the throne of Spain.  She was

not, however, permitted to remain long in tranquillity; her own

guards were disaffected, and more inclined to the principles of

the constitution of 1823 than to those of absolute monarchy,

which the moderados were attempting to revive again in the

government of Spain.  Early one morning, a party of these

soldiers, headed by a certain Sergeant Garcia, entered her

apartment, and proposed that she should subscribe her hand to

this constitution, and swear solemnly to abide by it.

Christina, however, who was a woman of considerable spirit,

refused to comply with this proposal, and ordered them to

withdraw.  A scene of violence and tumult ensued, but the

regent still continuing firm, the soldiers at length led her

down to one of the courts of the palace, where stood her well-

known paramour, Munos, bound and blindfolded.  "Swear to the

constitution, you she-rogue," vociferated the swarthy sergeant.

"Never!" said the spirited daughter of the Neapolitan Bourbons.

"Then your cortejo shall die!" replied the sergeant.  "Ho! ho!

my lads; get ready your arms, and send four bullets through the

fellow's brain."  Munos was forthwith led to the wall, and

compelled to kneel down, the soldiers levelled their muskets

and another moment would have consigned the unfortunate wight

to eternity, when Christina, forgetting everything but the

feelings of her woman's heart, suddenly started forward with a

shriek, exclaiming: "Hold, hold!  I sign, I sign!"



The day after this event I entered the Puerta del Sol at

about noon.  There is always a crowd there about this hour, but

it is generally a very quiet motionless crowd, consisting of

listless idlers calmly smoking their cigars, or listening to or

retailing the - in general - very dull news of the capital; but

on the day of which I am speaking the mass was no longer inert.

There was much gesticulation and vociferation, and several

people were running about shouting, "VIVA LA CONSTITUCION!" - a

cry which, a few days previously, would have been visited on

the utterer with death, the city having for some weeks past

been subjected to the rigour of martial law.  I occasionally

heard the words, "LA GRANJA!  LA GRANJA!"  Which words were

sure to be succeeded by the shout of "VIVA LA CONSTITUCION!"

Opposite the Casa de Postas were drawn up in a line about a

dozen mounted dragoons, some of whom were continually waving

their caps in the air and joining the common cry, in which they

were encouraged by their commander, a handsome young officer,

who flourished his sword, and more than once cried out with

great glee, "Long live the constitutional queen!  Long live the

constitution!"



The crowd was rapidly increasing, and several nationals

made their appearance in their uniforms, but without their

arms, of which they had been deprived, as I have already

stated.  "What has become of the moderado government?" said I

to Baltasar, whom I suddenly observed amongst the crowd,

dressed as when I had first seen him, in his old regimental

great coat and foraging cap; "have the ministers been deposed

and others put in their place?"



"Not yet, Don Jorge," said the little soldier-tailor;

"not yet; the scoundrels still hold out, relying on the brute

bull Quesada and a few infantry, who still continue true to

them; but there is no fear, Don Jorge; the queen is ours,

thanks to the courage of my friend Garcia, and if the brute

bull should make his appearance - ho! ho! Don Jorge, you shall

see something - I am prepared for him, ho! ho!" and thereupon

he half opened his great coat, and showed me a small gun, which

he bore beneath it in a sling, and then moving away with a wink

and a nod, disappeared amongst the crowd.



Presently I perceived a small body of soldiers advancing

up the Calle Mayor, or principal street which runs from the

Puerta del Sol in the direction of the palace; they might be

about twenty in number, and an officer marched at their head

with a drawn sword; the men appeared to have been collected in

a hurry, many of them being in fatigue dress, with foraging

caps on their heads.  On they came, slowly marching; neither

their officer nor themselves paying the slightest attention to

the cries of the crowd which thronged about them, shouting

"Long live the constitution!" save and except by an occasional

surly side glance: on they marched with contracted brows and

set teeth, till they came in front of the cavalry, where they

halted and drew up in a rank.



"Those men mean mischief," said I to my friend D-, of the

MORNING CHRONICLE, who at this moment joined me; "and depend

upon it, that if they are ordered they will commence firing,

caring nothing whom they hit, - but what can those cavalry

fellows behind them mean, who are evidently of the other

opinion by their shouting, why don't they charge at once this

handful of foot people and overturn them?  Once down, the crowd

would wrest from them their muskets in a moment.  You are a

liberal, which I am not; why do you not go to that silly young

man who commands the horse and give him a word of counsel in

time?"



D - turned upon me his broad red good-humoured English

countenance, with a peculiarly arch look, as much as to say -

(whatever you think most applicable, gentle reader), then

taking me by the arm, "Let us get," said he, "out of this crowd

and mount to some window, where I can write down what is about

to take place, for I agree with you that mischief is meant."

Just opposite the post office was a large house, in the topmost

story of which we beheld a paper displayed, importing that

apartments were to let; whereupon we instantly ascended the

common stair, and having agreed with the mistress of the etage

for the use of the front room for the day, we bolted the door,

and the reporter, producing his pocket-book and pencil,

prepared to take notes of the coming events, which were already

casting their shadow before.



What most extraordinary men are these reporters of

newspapers in general, I mean English newspapers; surely if

there be any class of individuals who are entitled to the

appellation of cosmopolites, it is these; who pursue their

avocation in all countries indifferently, and accommodate

themselves at will to the manners of all classes of society:

their fluency of style as writers is only surpassed by their

facility of language in conversation, and their attainments in

classical and polite literature only by their profound

knowledge of the world, acquired by an early introduction into

its bustling scenes.  The activity, energy, and courage which

they occasionally display in the pursuit of information are

truly remarkable.  I saw them during the three days at Paris,

mingled with canaille and gamins behind the barriers, whilst

the mitraille was flying in all directions, and the desperate

cuirassiers were dashing their fierce horses against these

seemingly feeble bulwarks.  There stood they, dotting down

their observations in their pocket-books as unconcernedly as if

reporting the proceedings of a reform meeting in Covent Garden

or Finsbury Square; whilst in Spain, several of them

accompanied the Carlist and Christino guerillas in some of

their most desperate raids and expeditions, exposing themselves

to the danger of hostile bullets, the inclemency of winter, and

the fierce heat of the summer sun.



We had scarcely been five minutes at the window, when we

suddenly heard the clattering of horses' feet hastening down

the street called the Calle de Carretas.  The house in which we

had stationed ourselves was, as I have already observed, just

opposite to the post office, at the left of which this street

debouches from the north into the Puerta del Sol: as the sounds

became louder and louder, the cries of the crowd below

diminished, and a species of panic seemed to have fallen upon

all: once or twice, however, I could distinguish the words

Quesada! Quesada!  The foot soldiers stood calm and motionless,

but I observed that the cavalry, with the young officer who

commanded them, displayed both confusion and fear, exchanging

with each other some hurried words; all of a sudden that part

of the crowd which stood near the mouth of the Calle de

Carretas fell back in great disorder, leaving a considerable

space unoccupied, and the next moment Quesada, in complete

general's uniform, and mounted on a bright bay thorough bred

English horse, with a drawn sword in his hand, dashed at full

gallop into the area, in much the same manner as I have seen a

Manchegan bull rush into the amphitheatre when the gates of his

pen are suddenly flung open.



He was closely followed by two mounted officers, and at a

short distance by as many dragoons.  In almost less time than

is sufficient to relate it, several individuals in the crowd

were knocked down and lay sprawling upon the ground, beneath

the horses of Quesada and his two friends, for as to the

dragoons, they halted as soon as they had entered the Puerta

del Sol.  It was a fine sight to see three men, by dint of

valour and good horsemanship, strike terror into at least as

many thousands: I saw Quesada spur his horse repeatedly into

the dense masses of the crowd, and then extricate himself in

the most masterly manner.  The rabble were completely awed and

gave way, retiring by the Calle del Comercio and the street of

Alcala.  All at once, Quesada singled out two nationals, who

were attempting to escape, and setting spurs to his horse,

turned them in a moment, and drove them in another direction,

striking them in a contemptuous manner with the flat of his

sabre.  He was crying out, "Long live the absolute queen!"

when, just beneath me, amidst a portion of the crowd which had

still maintained its ground, perhaps from not having the means

of escaping, I saw a small gun glitter for a moment, then there

was a sharp report, and a bullet had nearly sent Quesada to his

long account, passing so near to the countenance of the general

as to graze his hat.  I had an indistinct view for a moment of

a well-known foraging cap just about the spot from whence the

gun had been discharged, then there was a rush of the crowd,

and the shooter, whoever he was, escaped discovery amidst the

confusion which arose.



As for Quesada, he seemed to treat the danger from which

he had escaped with the utmost contempt.  He glared about him

fiercely for a moment, then leaving the two nationals, who

sneaked away like whipped hounds, he went up to the young

officer who commanded the cavalry, and who had been active in

raising the cry of the constitution, and to him he addressed a

few words with an air of stern menace; the youth evidently

quailed before him, and probably in obedience to his orders,

resigned the command of the party, and rode slowly away with a

discomfited air; whereupon Quesada dismounted and walked slowly

backwards and forwards before the Casa de Postas with a mien

which seemed to bid defiance to mankind.



This was the glorious day of Quesada's existence, his

glorious and last day.  I call it the day of his glory, for he

certainly never before appeared under such brilliant

circumstances, and he never lived to see another sun set.  No

action of any conqueror or hero on record is to be compared

with this closing scene of the life of Quesada, for who, by his

single desperate courage and impetuosity, ever before stopped a

revolution in full course?  Quesada did: he stopped the

revolution at Madrid for one entire day, and brought back the

uproarious and hostile mob of a huge city to perfect order and

quiet.  His burst into the Puerta del Sol was the most

tremendous and successful piece of daring ever witnessed.  I

admired so much the spirit of the "brute bull" that I

frequently, during his wild onset, shouted "Viva Quesada!" for

I wished him well.  Not that I am of any political party or

system.  No, no!  I have lived too long with Rommany Chals and

Petulengres * to be of any politics save Gypsy politics; and it

is well known that, during elections, the children of Roma side

with both parties so long as the event is doubtful, promising

success to each; and then when the fight is done, and the

battle won, invariably range themselves in the ranks of the

victorious.  But I repeat that I wished well to Quesada,

witnessing, as I did, his stout heart and good horsemanship.

Tranquillity was restored to Madrid throughout the remainder of

the day; the handful of infantry bivouacked in the Puerta del

Sol.  No more cries of long live the constitution were heard;

and the revolution in the capital seemed to have been

effectually put down.  It is probable, indeed, that had the

chiefs of the moderado party but continued true to themselves

for forty-eight hours longer, their cause would have triumphed,

and the revolutionary soldiers at the Granja would have been

glad to restore the Queen Regent to liberty, and to have come

to terms, as it was well known that several regiments, who

still continued loyal, were marching upon Madrid.  The

moderados, however, were not true to themselves; that very

night their hearts failed them, and they fled in various

directions.  Isturitz and Galiano to France; and the Duke of

Rivas to Gibraltar: the panic of his colleagues even infected

Quesada, who, disguised as a civilian, took to flight.  He was

not, however, so successful as the rest, but was recognised at

a village about three leagues from Madrid, and cast into prison

by some friends of the constitution.  Intelligence of his

capture was instantly transmitted to the capital, and a vast

mob of the nationals, some on foot, some on horseback, and

others in cabriolets, instantly set out.  "The nationals are

coming," said a paisano to Quesada.  "Then," said he, "I am

lost," and forthwith prepared himself for death.



* A compound of the modern Greek [Greek word which cannot

be reproduced], and the Sanskrit KARA, the literal meaning

being LORD of the horse-shoe (i.e. MAKER); it is one of the

private cognominations of "The Smiths," an English Gypsy clan.



There is a celebrated coffee-house in the Calle d'Alcala

at Madrid, capable of holding several hundred individuals.  On

the evening of the day in question, I was seated there, sipping

a cup of the brown beverage, when I heard a prodigious noise

and clamour in the street; it proceeded from the nationals, who

were returning from their expedition.  In a few minutes I saw a

body of them enter the coffee-house marching arm in arm, two by

two, stamping on the ground with their feet in a kind of

measure, and repeating in loud chorus as they walked round the

spacious apartment, the following grisly stanza:-





"Que es lo que abaja

Por aquel cerro?

Ta ra ra ra ra.

Son los huesos de Quesada,

Que los trae un perro -

Ta ra ra ra ra." *





* Of these lines the following translation, in the style

of the old English ballad, will, perhaps, not be unacceptable:-



"What down the hill comes hurrying there? -

With a hey, with a ho, a sword, and a gun!

Quesada's bones, which a hound doth bear. -

Hurrah, brave brothers! - the work is done."



A huge bowl of coffee was then called for, which was

placed upon a table, around which gathered the national

soldiers: there was silence for a moment, which was interrupted

by a voice roaring out, "EL PANUELO!"  A blue kerchief was

forthwith produced, which appeared to contain a substance of

some kind; it was untied, and a gory hand and three or four

dissevered fingers made their appearance, and with these the

contents of the bowl were stirred up.  "Cups! cups!" cried the

nationals.



"Ho, ho, Don Jorge," cried Baltasarito, coming up to me

with a cup of coffee, "pray do me the favour to drink upon this

glorious occasion.  This is a pleasant day for Spain, and for

the gallant nationals of Madrid.  I have seen many a bull

funcion, but none which has given me so much pleasure as this.

Yesterday the brute had it all his own way, but to-day the

toreros have prevailed, as you see, Don Jorge.  Pray drink; for

I must now run home to fetch my pajandi to play my brethren a

tune, and sing a copla.  What shall it be?  Something in

Gitano?





"Una noche sinava en tucue."





You shake your head, Don Jorge.  Ha, ha; I am young, and

youth is the time for pleasure; well, well, out of compliment

to you, who are an Englishman and a monro, it shall not be

that, but something liberal, something patriotic, the Hymn of

Riego - Hasta despues, Don Jorge!"







CHAPTER XV







The Steamer - Cape Finisterre - The Storm - Arrival at Cadiz -

The New Testament - Seville - Italica - The Amphitheatre -

The Prisoners - The Encounter - Baron Taylor - The Street and Desert.





At the commencement of November, I again found myself on

the salt water, on my way to Spain.  I had returned to England

shortly after the events which have been narrated in the last

chapter, for the purpose of consulting with my friends, and for

planning the opening of a biblical campaign in Spain.  It was

now determined by us to print the New Testament, with as little

delay as possible, at Madrid; and I was to be entrusted with

the somewhat arduous task of its distribution.  My stay in

England was very short, for time was precious, and I was eager

to return to the field of action.



I embarked in the Thames, on board the M- steamer.  We

had a most unpleasant passage to Falmouth; the ship was crowded

with passengers, most of them poor consumptive individuals, and

other invalids fleeing from the cold blasts of England's winter

to the sunny shores of Portugal and Madeira.  In a more

uncomfortable vessel, especially steam ship, it has never been

my fate to make a voyage.  The berths were small and

insupportably close, and of these wretched holes mine was

amongst the worst, the rest having been bespoken before I

arrived on board; so that to avoid the suffocation which seemed

to threaten me should I enter it, I lay upon the floor of one

of the cabins throughout the voyage.  We remained at Falmouth

twenty-four hours, taking in coal, and repairing the engine,

which had sustained considerable damage.



On Monday, the seventh, we again started, and made for

the Bay of Biscay.  The sea was high and the wind strong and

contrary; nevertheless, on the morning of the fourth day, we

were in sight of the rocky coast to the north of Cape

Finisterre.  I must here observe, that this was the first

voyage that the captain who commanded the vessel had ever made

on board of her, and that he knew little or nothing of the

coast towards which we were bearing.  He was a person picked up

in a hurry, the former captain having resigned his command on

the ground that the ship was not seaworthy, and that the

engines were frequently unserviceable.  I was not acquainted

with these circumstances at the time, or perhaps I should have

felt more alarmed than I did, when I saw the vessel approaching

nearer and nearer the shore, till at last we were only a few

hundred yards distant.  As it was, however, I felt very much

surprised; for having passed it twice before, both times in

steam vessels, and having seen with what care the captains

endeavoured to maintain a wide offing, I could not conceive the

reason of our being now so near this dangerous region.  The

wind was blowing hard towards the shore, if that can be called

a shore which consists of steep abrupt precipices, on which the

surf was breaking with the noise of thunder, tossing up clouds

of spray and foam to the height of a cathedral.  We coasted

slowly along, rounding several tall forelands, some of them

piled up by the hand of nature in the most fantastic shapes.

About nightfall Cape Finisterre was not far ahead, - a bluff,

brown, granite mountain, whose frowning head may be seen far

away by those who traverse the ocean.  The stream which poured

round its breast was terrific, and though our engines plied

with all their force, we made little or no way.



By about eight o'clock at night the wind had increased to

a hurricane, the thunder rolled frightfully, and the only light

which we had to guide us on our way was the red forked

lightning, which burst at times from the bosom of the big black

clouds which lowered over our heads.  We were exerting

ourselves to the utmost to weather the cape, which we could

descry by the lightning on our lee, its brow being frequently

brilliantly lighted up by the flashes which quivered around it,

when suddenly, with a great crash, the engine broke, and the

paddles, on which depended our lives, ceased to play.



I will not attempt to depict the scene of horror and

confusion which ensued; it may be imagined, but never

described.  The captain, to give him his due, displayed the

utmost coolness and intrepidity; he and the whole crew made the

greatest exertions to repair the engine, and when they found

their labour in vain, endeavoured, by hoisting the sails, and

by practising all possible manoeuvres, to preserve the ship

from impending destruction; but all was of no avail, we were

hard on a lee shore, to which the howling tempest was impelling

us.  About this time I was standing near the helm, and I asked

the steersman if there was any hope of saving the vessel, or

our lives.  He replied, "Sir, it is a bad affair, no boat could

live for a minute in this sea, and in less than an hour the

ship will have her broadside on Finisterre, where the strongest

man-of-war ever built must go to shivers instantly - none of us

will see the morning."  The captain, likewise, informed the

other passengers in the cabin to the same effect, telling them

to prepare themselves; and having done so, he ordered the door

to be fastened, and none to be permitted to come on deck.  I,

however, kept my station, though almost drowned with water,

immense waves continually breaking over our windward side and

flooding the ship.  The water casks broke from their lashings,

and one of them struck me down, and crushed the foot of the

unfortunate man at the helm, whose place was instantly taken by

the captain.  We were now close to the rocks, when a horrid

convulsion of the elements took place.  The lightning enveloped

us as with a mantle, the thunders were louder than the roar of

a million cannon, the dregs of the ocean seemed to be cast up,

and in the midst of all this turmoil, the wind, without the

slightest intimation, VEERED RIGHT ABOUT, and pushed us from

the horrible coast faster than it had previously driven us

towards it.



The oldest sailors on board acknowledged that they had

never witnessed so providential an escape.  I said, from the

bottom of my heart, "Our Father - hallowed be thy name."



The next day we were near foundering, for the sea was

exceedingly high, and our vessel, which was not intended for

sailing, laboured terribly, and leaked much.  The pumps were

continually working.  She likewise took fire, but the flames

were extinguished.  In the evening the steam-engine was

partially repaired, and we reached Lisbon on the thirteenth,

where in a few days we completed our repairs.



I found my excellent friend W- in good health.  During my

absence he had been doing everything in his power to further

the sale of the sacred volume in Portuguese: his zeal and

devotedness were quite admirable.  The distracted state of the

country, however, during the last six months, had sadly impeded

his efforts.  The minds of the people had been so engrossed

with politics, that they found scarcely any time to think of

the welfare of their souls.  The political history of Portugal

had of late afforded a striking parallel to that of the

neighbouring country.  In both a struggle for supremacy had

arisen between the court and the democratic party; in both the

latter had triumphed, whilst two distinguished individuals had

fallen a sacrifice to the popular fury - Freire in Portugal,

and Quesada in Spain.  The news which reached me at Lisbon from

the latter country was rather startling.  The hordes of Gomez

were ravaging Andalusia, which I was about to visit on my way

to Madrid; Cordova had been sacked and abandoned after a three

days' occupation by the Carlists.  I was told that if I

persisted in my attempt to enter Spain in the direction which I

proposed, I should probably fall into their hands at Seville.

I had, however, no fears, and had full confidence that the Lord

would open the path before me to Madrid.



The vessel being repaired, we again embarked, and in two

days arrived in safety at Cadiz.  I found great confusion

reigning there; numerous bands of the factious were reported to

be hovering in the neighbourhood.  An attack was not deemed

improbable, and the place had just been declared in a state of

siege.  I took up my abode at the French hotel in the Calle de

la Niveria, and was allotted a species of cockloft, or garret,

to sleep in, for the house was filled with guests, being a

place of much resort, on account of the excellent table d'hote

which is kept there.  I dressed myself and walked about the

town.  I entered several coffee-houses: the din of tongues in

all was deafening.  In one no less than six orators were

haranguing at the same time on the state of the country, and

the probability of an intervention on the part of England and

France.  As I was listening to one of them, he suddenly called

upon me for my opinion, as I was a foreigner, and seemingly

just arrived.  I replied that I could not venture to guess what

steps the two governments would pursue under the present

circumstances, but thought that it would be as well if the

Spaniards would exert themselves more and call less on Jupiter.

As I did not wish to engage in any political conversation, I

instantly quitted the house, and sought those parts of the town

where the lower classes principally reside.



I entered into discourse with several individuals, but

found them very ignorant; none could read or write, and their

ideas respecting religion were anything but satisfactory, -

most professing a perfect indifference.  I afterwards went into

a bookseller's shop and made inquiries respecting the demand

for literature, which, he informed me, was small.  I produced a

London edition of the New Testament in Spanish, and asked the

bookseller whether he thought a book of that description would

sell in Cadiz.  He said that both the type and paper were

exceedingly beautiful, but that it was a work not sought after,

and very little known.  I did not pursue my inquiries in other

shops, for I reflected that I was not likely to receive a very

favourable opinion from booksellers respecting a publication in

which they had no interest.  I had, moreover, but two or three

copies of the New Testament with me, and could not have

supplied them had they even given me an order.



Early on the twenty-fourth, I embarked for Seville in the

small Spanish steamer the BETIS: the morning was wet, and the

aspect of nature was enveloped in a dense mist, which prevented

my observing surrounding objects.  After proceeding about six

leagues, we reached the north-eastern extremity of the Bay of

Cadiz, and passed by Saint Lucar, an ancient town near to the

spot where the Guadalquivir disembogues itself.  The mist

suddenly disappeared, and the sun of Spain burst forth in full

brilliancy, enlivening all around, and particularly myself, who

had till then been lying on the deck in a dull melancholy

stupor.  We entered the mouth of "The Great River," for that is

the English translation of Oued al Kiber, as the Moors

designated the ancient Betis.  We came to anchor for a few

minutes at a little village called Bonanca, at the extremity of

the first reach of the river, where we received several

passengers, and again proceeded.  There is not much in the

appearance of the Guadalquivir to interest the traveller: the

banks are low and destitute of trees, the adjacent country is

flat, and only in the distance is seen a range of tall blue

sierras.  The water is turbid and muddy, and in colour closely

resembling the contents of a duck-pool; the average width of

the stream is from a hundred and fifty to two hundred yards,

but it is impossible to move along this river without

remembering that it has borne the Roman, the Vandal, and the

Arab, and has been the witness of deeds which have resounded

through the world and been the themes of immortal songs.  I

repeated Latin verses and fragments of old Spanish ballads till

we reached Seville, at about nine o'clock of a lovely moonlight

night.



Seville contains ninety thousand inhabitants, and is

situated on the eastern bank of the Guadalquivir, about

eighteen leagues from its mouth; it is surrounded with high

Moorish walls, in a good state of preservation, and built of

such durable materials that it is probable they will for many

centuries still bid defiance to the encroachments of time.  The

most remarkable edifices are the cathedral and Alcazar, or

palace of the Moorish kings; the tower of the former, called La

Giralda, belongs to the period of the Moors, and formed part of

the grand mosque of Seville: it is computed to be one hundred

ells in height, and is ascended not by stairs or ladders but by

a vaulted pathway, in the manner of an inclined plane: this

path is by no means steep, so that a cavalier might ride up to

the top, a feat which Ferdinand the Seventh is said to have

accomplished.  The view from the summit is very extensive, and

on a fine clear day the mountain ridge, called the Sierra de

Ronda, may be discovered, though upwards of twenty leagues

distant.  The cathedral itself is a noble Gothic structure,

reputed the finest of the kind in Spain.  In the chapels

allotted to the various saints are some of the most magnificent

paintings which Spanish art has produced; indeed the Cathedral

of Seville is at the present time far more rich in splendid

paintings than at any former period; possessing many very

recently removed from some of the suppressed convents,

particularly from the Capuchin and San Francisco.



No one should visit Seville without paying particular

attention to the Alcazar, that splendid specimen of Moorish

architecture.  It contains many magnificent halls, particularly

that of the ambassadors, so called, which is in every respect

more magnificent than the one of the same name within the

Alhambra of Granada.  This palace was a favourite residence of

Peter the Cruel, who carefully repaired it without altering its

Moorish character and appearance.  It probably remains in much

the same state as at the time of his death.



On the right side of the river is a large suburb, called

Triana, communicating with Seville by means of a bridge of

boats; for there is no permanent bridge across the

Guadalquivir, owing to the violent inundations to which it is

subject.  This suburb is inhabited by the dregs of the

populace, and abounds with Gitanos or Gypsies.  About a league

and a half to the north-west stands the village of Santo Ponce:

at the foot and on the side of some elevated ground higher up

are to be seen vestiges of ruined walls and edifices, which

once formed part of Italica, the birth-place of Silius Italicus

and Trajan, from which latter personage Triana derives its

name.



One fine morning I walked thither, and having ascended

the hill, I directed my course northward.  I soon reached what

had once been bagnios, and a little farther on, in a kind of

valley between two gentle declivities, the amphitheatre.  This

latter object is by far the most considerable relic of ancient

Italica; it is oval in its form, with two gateways fronting the

east and west.



On all sides are to be seen the time-worn broken granite

benches, from whence myriads of human beings once gazed down on

the area below, where the gladiator shouted, and the lion and

the leopard yelled: all around, beneath these flights of

benches, are vaulted excavations from whence the combatants,

part human part bestial, darted forth by their several doors. I

spent many hours in this singular place, forcing my way through

the wild fennel and brushwood into the caverns, now the haunts

of adders and other reptiles, whose hissings I heard.  Having

sated my curiosity, I left the ruins, and returning by another

way, reached a place where lay the carcass of a horse half

devoured; upon it, with lustrous eyes, stood an enormous

vulture, who, as I approached, slowly soared aloft till he

alighted on the eastern gate of the amphitheatre, from whence

he uttered a hoarse cry, as if in anger that I had disturbed

him from his feast of carrion.



Gomez had not hitherto paid a visit to Seville: when I

arrived he was said to be in the neighbourhood of Ronda.  The

city was under watch and ward: several gates had been blocked

up with masonry, trenches dug, and redoubts erected, but I am

convinced that the place would not have held out six hours

against a resolute attack.  Gomez had proved himself to be a

most extraordinary man, and with his small army of Aragonese

and Basques had, within the last four months, made the tour of

Spain.  He had very frequently been hemmed in by forces three

times the number of his own, in places whence escape appeared

impossible, but he had always battled his enemies, whom he

seemed to laugh at.  The most absurd accounts of victories

gained over him were continually issuing from the press at

Seville; amongst others, it was stated that his army had been

utterly defeated, himself killed, and that twelve hundred

prisoners were on their way to Saville.  I saw these prisoners:

instead of twelve hundred desperadoes, they consisted of about

twenty poor lame ragged wretches, many of them boys from

fourteen to sixteen years of age.  They were evidently camp

followers, who, unable to keep up with the army, had been

picked up straggling in the plains and amongst the hills.



It subsequently appeared that no battle had occurred, and

that the death of Gomez was a fiction.  The grand defect of

Gomez consisted in not knowing how to take advantage of

circumstances: after defeating Lopez, he might have marched to

Madrid and proclaimed Don Carlos there, and after sacking

Cordova he might have captured Seville.



There were several booksellers' shops at Seville, in two

of which I found copies of the New Testament in Spanish, which

had been obtained from Gibraltar about two years before, since

which time six copies had been sold in one shop and four in the

other.  The person who generally accompanied me in my walks

about the town and the neighbourhood, was an elderly Genoese,

who officiated as a kind of valet de place in the Posada del

Turco, where I had taken up my residence.  On learning from me

that it was my intention to bring out an edition of the New

Testament at Madrid, he observed that copies of the work might

be extensively circulated in Andalusia.  "I have been

accustomed to bookselling," he continued, "and at one time

possessed a small shop of my own in this place.  Once having

occasion to go to Gibraltar, I procured several copies of the

Scriptures; some, it is true, were seized by the officers of

the customs, but the rest I sold at a high price, and with

considerable profit to myself."



I had returned from a walk in the country, on a glorious

sunshiny morning of the Andalusian winter, and was directing my

steps towards my lodging: as I was passing by the portal of a

large gloomy house near the gate of Xeres, two individuals

dressed in zamarras emerged from the archway, and were about to

cross my path, when one, looking in my face, suddenly started

back, exclaiming in the purest and most melodious French: "What

do I see?  If my eyes do not deceive me - it is himself.  Yes,

the very same as I saw him first at Bayonne; then long

subsequently beneath the brick wall at Novogorod; then beside

the Bosphorus; and last at - at - Oh, my respectable and

cherished friend, where was it that I had last the felicity of

seeing your well-remembered and most remarkable physiognomy?"



MYSELF. - It was in the south of Ireland, if I mistake

not.  Was it not there that I introduced you to the sorcerer

who tamed the savage horses by a single whisper into their ear?

But tell me what brings you to Spain and Andalusia, the last

place where I should have expected to find you?



BARON TAYLOR. - And wherefore, my most respectable B-?

Is not Spain the land of the arts; and is not Andalusia of all

Spain that portion which has produced the noblest monuments of

artistic excellence and inspiration?  Surely you know enough of

me to be aware that the arts are my passion; that I am

incapable of imagining a more exalted enjoyment than to gaze in

adoration on a noble picture.  O come with me! for you too have

a soul capable of appreciating what is lovely and exalted; a

soul delicate and sensitive.  Come with me, and I will show you

a Murillo, such as -.  But first allow me to introduce you to

your compatriot.  My dear Monsieur W., turning to his companion

(an English gentleman from whom and from his family I

subsequently experienced unbounded kindness and hospitality on

various occasions, and at different periods at Seville), allow

me to introduce to you my most cherished and respectable

friend, one who is better acquainted with Gypsy ways than the

Chef des Bohemiens a Triana, one who is an expert whisperer and

horse-sorcerer, and who, to his honour I say it, can wield

hammer and tongs, and handle a horse-shoe with the best of the

smiths amongst the Alpujarras of Granada.



In the course of my travels I have formed various

friendships and acquaintances, but no one has more interested

me than Baron Taylor, and there is no one for whom I entertain

a greater esteem and regard.  To personal and mental

accomplishments of the highest order he unites a kindness of

heart rarely to be met with, and which is continually inducing

him to seek for opportunities of doing good to his fellow

creatures, and of contributing to their happiness; perhaps no

person in existence has seen more of the world and life in its

various phases than himself.  His manners are naturally to the

highest degree courtly, yet he nevertheless possesses a

disposition so pliable that he finds no difficulty in

accommodating himself to all kinds of company, in consequence

of which he is a universal favourite.  There is a mystery about

him, which, wherever he goes, serves not a little to increase

the sensation naturally created by his appearance and manner.

Who he is, no one pretends to assert with downright

positiveness: it is whispered, however, that he is a scion of

royalty; and who can gaze for a moment upon that most graceful

figure, that most intelligent but singularly moulded

countenance, and those large and expressive eyes, without

feeling as equally convinced that he is of no common lineage,

as that he is no common man.  Though possessed of talents and

eloquence which would speedily have enabled him to attain to an

illustrious position in the state, he has hitherto, and perhaps

wisely, contented himself with comparative obscurity, chiefly

devoting himself to the study of the arts and of literature, of

both of which he is a most bounteous patron.



He has, notwithstanding, been employed by the illustrious

house to which he is said to be related in more than one

delicate and important mission, both in the East and the West,

in which his efforts have uniformly been crowned with complete

success.  He was now collecting masterpieces of the Spanish

school of painting, which were destined to adorn the saloons of

the Tuileries.



He has visited most portions of the earth, and it is

remarkable enough that we are continually encountering each

other in strange places and under singular circumstances.

Whenever he descries me, whether in the street or the desert,

the brilliant hall or amongst Bedouin haimas, at Novogorod or

Stambul, he flings up his arms and exclaims, "O ciel!  I have

again the felicity of seeing my cherished and most respectable

B-."







CHAPTER XVI







Departure for Cordova - Carmona - German Colonies - Language -

The Sluggish Horse - Nocturnal Welcome - Carlist Landlord -

Good Advice - Gomez - The Old Genoese - The Two Opinions.





After a sojourn of about fourteen days at Seville, I

departed for Cordova.  The diligence had for some time past

ceased running, owing to the disturbed state of the province.

I had therefore no resource but to proceed thither on horse-

back.  I hired a couple of horses, and engaged the old Genoese,

of whom I have already had occasion to speak, to attend me as

far as Cordova, and to bring them back.  Notwithstanding we

were now in the depths of winter, the weather was beautiful,

the days sunny and brilliant, though the nights were rather

keen.  We passed by the little town of Alcala, celebrated for

the ruins of an immense Moorish castle, which stand on a rocky

hill, overhanging a picturesque river.  The first night we

slept at Carmona, another Moorish town, distant about seven

leagues from Seville.  Early in the morning we again mounted

and departed.  Perhaps in the whole of Spain there is scarcely

a finer Moorish monument of antiquity than the eastern side of

this town of Carmona, which occupies the brow of a lofty hill,

and frowns over an extensive vega or plain, which extends for

leagues unplanted and uncultivated, producing nothing but

brushwood and carasco.  Here rise tall and dusky walls, with

square towers at short distances, of so massive a structure

that they would seem to bid defiance alike to the tooth of time

and the hand of man.  This town, in the time of the Moors, was

considered the key to Seville, and did not submit to the

Christian arms till after a long and desperate siege: the

capture of Seville followed speedily after.  The vega upon

which we now entered forms a part of the grand despoblado or

desert of Andalusia, once a smiling garden, but which became

what it now is on the expulsion of the Moors from Spain, when

it was drained almost entirely of its population.  The towns

and villages from hence to the Sierra Morena, which divides

Andalusia from La Mancha, are few and far between, and even of

these several date from the middle of the last century, when an

attempt was made by a Spanish minister to people this

wilderness with the children of a foreign land.



At about midday we arrived at a place called Moncloa,

which consisted of a venta, and a desolate-looking edifice

which had something of the appearance of a chateau: a solitary

palm tree raised its head over the outer wall.  We entered the

venta, tied our horses to the manger, and having ordered barley

for them, we sat down before a large fire, which burned in the

middle of the venta.  The host and hostess also came and sat

down beside us.  "They are evil people," said the old Genoese

to me in Italian, "and this is an evil house; it is a

harbouring place for thieves, and murders have been committed

here, if all tales be true."  I looked at these two people

attentively; they were both young, the man apparently about

twenty-five years of age.  He was a short thick-made churl,

evidently of prodigious strength; his features were rather

handsome, but with a gloomy expression, and his eyes were full

of sullen fire.  His wife somewhat resembled him, but had a

countenance more open and better tempered; but what struck me

as most singular in connexion with these people, was the colour

of their hair and complexion; the latter was fair and ruddy,

and the former of a bright auburn, both in striking contrast to

the black hair and swarthy visages which in general distinguish

the natives of this province.  "Are you an Andalusian?" said I

to the hostess.  "I should almost conclude you to be a German."



HOSTESS. - And your worship would not be very wrong.  It

is true that I am a Spaniard, being born in Spain, but it is

equally true that I am of German blood, for my grandparents

came from Germany, even like those of this gentleman, my lord

and husband.



MYSELF. - And what chance brought your grandparents into

this country?



HOSTESS. - Did your worship never hear of the German

colonies?  There are many of them in these parts.  In old times

the land was nearly deserted, and it was very dangerous for

travellers to journey along the waste, owing to the robbers.

So along time ago, nearly a hundred years, as I am told, some

potent lord sent messengers to Germany, to tell the people

there what a goodly land there was in these parts uncultivated

for want of hands, and to promise every labourer who would

consent to come and till it, a house and a yoke of oxen, with

food and provision for one year.  And in consequence of this

invitation a great many poor families left the German land and

came hither, and settled down in certain towns and villages

which had been prepared for them, which places were called

German colonies, and this name they still retain.



MYSELF. - And how many of these colonies may there be?



HOSTESS. - There are several, both on this side of

Cordova and the other.  The nearest is Luisiana, about two

leagues from hence, from which place both my husband and myself

come; the next is Carlota, which is some ten leagues distant,

and these are the only colonies of our people which I have

seen; but there are others farther on, and some, as I have

heard say, in the very heart of the Sierra Morena.



MYSELF. - And do the colonists still retain the language

of their forefathers?



HOSTESS. - We speak Spanish, or rather Andalusian, and no

other language.  A few, indeed, amongst the very old people,

retain a few words of German, which they acquired from their

fathers, who were born in the other country: but the last

person amongst the colonists who could understand a

conversation in German, was the aunt of my mother, who came

over when a girl.  When I was a child I remember her conversing

with a foreign traveller, a countryman of hers, in a language

which I was told was German, and they understood each other,

though the old woman confessed that she had lost many words:

she has now been dead several years.



MYSELF. - Of what religion are the colonists?



HOSTESS. - They are Christians, like the Spaniards, and

so were their fathers before them.  Indeed, I have heard that

they came from a part of Germany where the Christian religion

is as much practised as in Spain itself.



MYSELF. - The Germans are the most honest people in the

world: being their legitimate descendants you have of course no

thieves amongst you.



The hostess glanced at me for a moment, then looked at

her husband and smiled: the latter, who had hitherto been

smoking without uttering a word, though with a peculiarly surly

and dissatisfied countenance, now flung the remainder of his

cigar amongst the embers, then springing up he muttered

"Disparate!" and "Conversacion!" and went abroad.



"You touched them in the sore place, Signor," said the

Genoese, after we had left Moncloa some way behind us.  "Were

they honest people they would not keep that venta; and as for

the colonists, I know not what kind of people they might be

when they first came over, but at present their ways are not a

bit better than those of the Andalusians, but rather worse, if

there is any difference at all."



A short time before sunset of the third day after our

departure from Seville, we found ourselves at the Cuesta del

Espinal, or hill of the thorn tree, at about two leagues from

Cordova; - we could just descry the walls of the city, upon

which the last beams of the descending luminary were resting.

As the neighbourhood in which we were was, according to the

account of my guide, generally infested with robbers, we used

our best endeavours to reach the town before the night should

have entirely closed in.  We did not succeed, however, and

before we had proceeded half the distance, pitchy darkness

overtook us.  Throughout the journey we had been considerably

delayed by the badness of our horses, especially that of my

attendant, which appeared to pay no regard to whip or spur; his

rider also was no horseman, it being thirty years, as he at

length confessed to me, since he last mounted in a saddle.

Horses soon become aware of the powers of their riders, and the

brute in question was disposed to take great advantage of the

fears and weakness of the old man.  There is a remedy, however,

for most things in this world.  I became so wearied at last at

the snail's pace at which we were proceeding, that I fastened

the bridle of the sluggish horse to the crupper of mine, then

sparing neither spur nor cudgel, I soon forced my own horse

into a kind of trot, which compelled the other to make some use

of his legs.  He twice attempted to fling himself down, to the

great terror of his aged rider, who frequently entreated me to

stop and permit him to dismount.  I, however, took no notice of

what he said, but continued spurring and cudgelling with

unabated activity, and with such success, that in less than

half an hour we saw lights close before us, and presently came

to a river and a bridge, which crossing, we found ourselves at

the gate of Cordova, without having broken either our horses'

knees or our own necks.



We passed through the entire length of the town ere we

reached the posada; the streets were dark and almost entirely

deserted.  The posada was a large building, the windows of

which were well fenced with rejas, or iron grating: no light

gleamed from them, and the silence of death not only seemed to

pervade the house, but the street in which it was situated.  We

knocked for a long time at the gate without receiving any

answer; we then raised our voices and shouted.  At last some

one from within inquired what we wanted.  "Open the door and

you will see," we replied.  "I shall do no such thing,"

answered the individual from within, "until I know who you

are."  "We are travellers," said I, "from Seville."

"Travellers, are you," said the voice; "why did you not tell me

so before?  I am not porter at this house to keep out

travellers.  Jesus Maria knows we have not so many of them that

we need repulse any.  Enter, cavalier, and welcome, you and

your company."



He opened the gate and admitted us into a spacious

courtyard, and then forthwith again secured the gate with

various bolts and bars.  "Are you afraid that the Carlists

should pay you a visit," I demanded, "that you take so much

precaution?"  "It is not the Carlists we are afraid of,"

replied the porter; "they have been here already, and did us no

damage whatever.  It is certain scoundrels of this town that we

are afraid of, who have a spite against the master of the

house, and would murder both him and his family, could they but

find an opportunity."



I was about to inquire the cause of this enmity, when a

thick bulky man, bearing a light in his hand, came running down

a stone staircase, which led into the interior of the building.

Two or three females, also bearing lights, followed him.  He

stopped on the lowest stair.  "Whom have we here?" he

exclaimed; then advancing the lamp which he bore, the light

fell full upon my face.  "Ola!" he exclaimed; "Is it you?  Only

think," said he, turning to the female who stood next him, a

dark-featured person, stout as himself, and about his own age,

which might border upon fifty; "Only think, my dear, that at

the very moment we were wishing for a guest an Englishman

should be standing before our doors; for I should know an

Englishman at a mile's distance, even in the dark.  Juanito,"

cried he to the porter, "open not the gate any more to-night,

whoever may ask for admission.  Should the nationals come to

make any disturbance, tell them that the son of Belington

(WELLINGTON) is in the house ready to attack them sword in hand

unless they retire; and should other travellers arrive, which

is not likely, inasmuch as we have seen none for a month past,

say that we have no room, all our apartments being occupied by

an English gentleman and his company."



I soon found that my friend the posadero was a most

egregious Carlist.  Before I had finished supper - during which

both himself and all his family were present, surrounding the

little table at which I sat, and observing my every motion,

particularly the manner in which I handled my knife and fork

and conveyed the food to my mouth - he commenced talking

politics: "I am of no particular opinion, Don Jorge," said he,

for he had inquired my name in order that he might address me

in a suitable manner; "I am of no particular opinion, and I

hold neither for King Carlos nor for the Chica Isabel:

nevertheless, I lead the life of a dog in this accursed

Christino town, which I would have left long ago, had it not

been the place of my birth, and did I but know whither to

betake myself.  Ever since the troubles have commenced, I have

been afraid to stir into the street, for no sooner do the

canaille of the town see me turning round a corner, than they

forthwith exclaim, `Halloo, the Carlist!' and then there is a

run and a rush, and stones and cudgels are in great

requisition: so that unless I can escape home, which is no easy

matter, seeing that I weigh eighteen stone, my life is poured

out in the street, which is neither decent nor convenient, as I

think you will acknowledge, Don Jorge!  You see that young

man," he continued, pointing to a tall swarthy youth who stood

behind my chair, officiating as waiter; "he is my fourth son,

is married, and does not live in the house, but about a hundred

yards down the street.  He was summoned in a hurry to wait upon

your worship, as is his duty: know, however, that he has come

at the peril of his life: before he leaves this house he must

peep into the street to see if the coast is clear, and then he

must run like a partridge to his own door.  Carlists! why

should they call my family and myself Carlists?  It is true

that my eldest son was a friar, and when the convents were

suppressed betook himself to the royal ranks, in which he has

been fighting upwards of three years; could I help that?  Nor

was it my fault, I trow, that my second son enlisted the other

day with Gomez and the royalists when they entered Cordova.

God prosper him, I say; but I did not bid him go!  So far from

being a Carlist, it was I who persuaded this very lad who is

present to remain here, though he would fain have gone with his

brother, for he is a brave lad and a true Christian.  Stay at

home, said I, for what can I do without you?  Who is to wait

upon the guests when it pleases God to send them.  Stay at

home, at least till your brother, my third son, comes back,

for, to my shame be it spoken, Don Jorge, I have a son a

soldier and a sergeant in the Christino armies, sorely against

his own inclination, poor fellow, for he likes not the military

life, and I have been soliciting his discharge for years;

indeed, I have counselled him to maim himself, in order that he

might procure his liberty forthwith; so I said to this lad,

Stay at home, my child, till your brother comes to take your

place and prevent our bread being eaten by strangers, who would

perhaps sell me and betray me; so my son staid at home as you

see, Don Jorge, at my request, and yet they call me a Carlist?"



"Gomez and his bands have lately been in Cordova," said

I; "of course you were present at all that occurred: how did

they comport themselves?"



"Bravely well," replied the innkeeper, "bravely well, and

I wish they were here still.  I hold with neither side, as I

told you before, Don Jorge, but I confess I never felt greater

pleasure in my life than when they entered the gate; and then

to see the dogs of nationals flying through the streets to save

their lives - that was a sight, Don Jorge - those who met me

then at the corner forgot to shout `Halloo, Carlista!' and I

heard not a word about cudgelling; some jumped from the wall

and ran no one knows where, whilst the rest retired to the

house of the Inquisition, which they had fortified, and there

they shut themselves up.  Now you must know, Don Jorge, that

all the Carlist chiefs lodged at my house, Gomez, Cabrera, and

the Sawyer; and it chanced that I was talking to my Lord Gomez

in this very room in which we are now, when in came Cabrera in

a mighty fury - he is a small man, Don Jorge, but he is as

active as a wild cat and as fierce.  `The canaille,' said he,

`in the Casa of the Inquisition refuse to surrender; give but

the order, General, and I will scale the walls with my men and

put them all to the sword'; but Gomez said, `No, we must not

spill blood if we can avoid it; order a few muskets to be fired

at them, that will be sufficient!'  And so it proved, Don

Jorge, for after a few discharges their hearts failed them, and

they surrendered at discretion: whereupon their arms were taken

from them and they were permitted to return to their own

houses; but as soon as ever the Carlists departed, these

fellows became as bold as ever, and it is now once more,

`Halloo, Carlista!' when they see me turning the corner, and it

is for fear of them that my son must run like a partridge to

his own home, now that he has done waiting on your worship,

lest they meet him in the street and kill him with their

knives!"



"You tell me that you were acquainted with Gomez: what

kind of man might he be?"



"A middle-sized man," replied the innkeeper; "grave and

dark.  But the most remarkable personage in appearance of them

all was the Sawyer: he is a kind of giant, so tall, that when

he entered the doorway he invariably struck his head against

the lintel.  The one I liked least of all was one Palillos, who

is a gloomy savage ruffian whom I knew when he was a

postillion.  Many is the time that he has been at my house of

old; he is now captain of the Manchegan thieves, for though he

calls himself a royalist, he is neither more nor less than a

thief: it is a disgrace to the cause that such as he should be

permitted to mix with honourable and brave men; I hate that

fellow, Don Jorge: it is owing to him that I have so few

customers.  Travellers are, at present, afraid to pass through

La Mancha, lest they fall into his hands.  I wish he were

hanged, Don Jorge, and whether by Christinos or Royalists, I

care not."



"You recognized me at once for an Englishman," said I,

"do many of my countrymen visit Cordova?"



"TOMA!" said the landlord, "they are my best customers; I

have had Englishmen in this house of all grades, from the son

of Belington to a young medico, who cured my daughter, the

chica here, of the ear-ache.  How should I not know an

Englishman?  There were two with Gomez, serving as volunteers.

VAYA QUE GENTE; what noble horses they rode, and how they

scattered their gold about; they brought with them a

Portuguese, who was much of a gentleman but very poor; it was

said that he was one of Don Miguel's people, and that these

Englishmen supported him for the love they bore to royalty; he

was continually singing





`El Rey chegou - El Rey chegou,

E en Belem desembarcou!' *





Those were merry days, Don Jorge.  By the by, I forgot to

ask your worship of what opinion you are?"



* "The king arrived, the king arrived, and disembarked at

Belem." - MIGUELITE SONG.



The next morning, whilst I was dressing, the old Genoese

entered my room: "Signore," said he, "I am come to bid you

farewell.  I am about to return to Seville forthwith with the

horses."



"Wherefore in such a hurry," I replied; "assuredly you

had better tarry till to-morrow; both the animals and yourself

require rest; repose yourselves to-day and I will defray the

expense."



"Thank you, Signore, but we will depart forthwith, for

there is no tarrying in this house."



"What is the matter with the house?" I inquired.



"I find no fault with the house," replied the Genoese,

"it is the people who keep it of whom I complain.  About an

hour since, I went down to get my breakfast, and there, in the

kitchen, I found the master and all his family: well, I sat

down and called for chocolate, which they brought me, but ere I

could dispatch it, the master fell to talking politics.  He

commenced by telling me that he held with neither side, but he

is as rank a Carlist as Carlos Quinto: for no sooner did he

find that I was of the other opinion, than he glared at me like

a wild beast.  You must know, Signore, that in the time of the

old constitution I kept a coffee-house at Seville, which was

frequented by all the principal liberals, and was, indeed, the

cause of my ruin: for as I admired their opinions, I gave my

customers whatever credit they required, both with regard to

coffee and liqueurs, so that by the time the constitution was

put down and despotism re-established, I had trusted them with

all I had.  It is possible that many of them would have paid

me, for I believe they harboured no evil intention; but the

persecution came, the liberals took to flight, and, as was

natural enough, thought more of providing for their own safety

than of paying me for my coffee and liqueurs; nevertheless, I

am a friend to their system, and never hesitate to say so.  So

the landlord, as I told your worship before, when he found that

I was of this opinion, glared at me like a wild beast: `Get out

of my house,' said he, `for I will have no spies here,' and

thereupon he spoke disrespectfully of the young Queen Isabel

and of Christina, who, notwithstanding she is a Neapolitan, I

consider as my countrywoman.  Hearing this, your worship, I

confess that I lost my temper and returned the compliment, by

saying that Carlos was a knave and the Princess of Beira no

better than she should be.  I then prepared to swallow the

chocolate, but ere I could bring it to my lips, the woman of

the house, who is a still ranker Carlist than her husband, if

that be possible, coming up to me struck the cup into the air

as high as the ceiling, exclaiming, `Begone, dog of a negro,

you shall taste nothing more in my house; may you be hanged

even as a swine is hanged.'  So your worship sees that it is

impossible for me to remain here any longer.  I forgot to say

that the knave of a landlord told me that you had confessed

yourself to be of the same politics as himself, or he would not

have harboured you."



"My good man," said I, "I am invariably of the politics

of the people at whose table I sit, or beneath whose roof I

sleep, at least I never say anything which can lead them to

suspect the contrary; by pursuing which system I have more than

once escaped a bloody pillow, and having the wine I drank

spiced with sublimate."







CHAPTER XVII







Cordova - Moors of Barbary - The English - An Old Priest -

The Roman Breviary - The Dovecote - The Holy Office - Judaism -

Desecration of Dovecotes - The Innkeeper's Proposal.





Little can be said with respect to the town of Cordova,

which is a mean dark gloomy place, full of narrow streets and

alleys, without squares or public buildings worthy of

attention, save and except its far-famed cathedral; its

situation, however, is beautiful and picturesque.  Before it

runs the Guadalquivir, which, though in this part shallow and

full of sandbanks, is still a delightful stream; whilst behind

it rise the steep sides of the Sierra Morena, planted up to the

top with olive groves.  The town or city is surrounded on all

sides by lofty Moorish walls, which may measure about three

quarters of a league in circumference; unlike Seville, and most

other towns in Spain, it has no suburbs.



I have said that Cordova has no remarkable edifices, save

its cathedral; yet this is perhaps the most extraordinary place

of worship in the world.  It was originally, as is well known,

a mosque, built in the brightest days of Arabian dominion in

Spain; in shape it was quadrangular, with a low roof, supported

by an infinity of small and delicately rounded marble pillars,

many of which still remain, and present at first sight the

appearance of a marble grove; the greater part, however, were

removed when the Christians, after the expulsion of the

Moslems, essayed to convert the mosque into a cathedral, which

they effected in part by the erection of a dome, and by

clearing an open space for a choir.  As it at present exists,

the temple appears to belong partly to Mahomet, and partly to

the Nazarene; and though this jumbling together of massive

Gothic architecture with the light and delicate style of the

Arabians produces an effect somewhat bizarre, it still remains

a magnificent and glorious edifice, and well calculated to

excite feelings of awe and veneration within the bosoms of

those who enter it.



The Moors of Barbary seem to care but little for the

exploits of their ancestors: their minds are centred in the

things of the present day, and only so far as those things

regard themselves individually.  Disinterested enthusiasm, that

truly distinguishing mark of a noble mind, and admiration for

what is great, good, and grand, they appear to be totally

incapable of feeling.  It is astonishing with what indifference

they stray amongst the relics of ancient Moorish grandeur in

Spain.  No feelings of exultation seem to be excited by the

proof of what the Moor once was, nor of regret at the

consciousness of what he now is.  More interesting to them are

their perfumes, their papouches, their dates, and their silks

of Fez and Maraks, to dispose of which they visit Andalusia;

and yet the generality of these men are far from being

ignorant, and have both heard and read of what was passing in

Spain in the old time.  I was once conversing with a Moor at

Madrid, with whom I was very intimate, about the Alhambra of

Granada, which he had visited.  "Did you not weep," said I,

"when you passed through the courts, and thought of the,

Abencerrages?"  "No," said he, "I did not weep; wherefore

should I weep?"  "And why did you visit the Alhambra?" I

demanded.  "I visited it," he replied, "because being at

Granada on my own affairs, one of your countrymen requested me

to accompany him thither, that I might explain some of the

inscriptions.  I should certainly not have gone of my own

accord, for the hill on which it stands is steep."  And yet

this man could compose verses, and was by no means a

contemptible poet.  Once at Cordova, whilst I was in the

cathedral, three Moors entered it, and proceeded slowly across

its floor in the direction of a gate, which stood at the

opposite side; they took no farther notice of what was around

them than by slightly glancing once or twice at the pillars,

one of them exclaiming, "HUAIJE DEL MSELMEEN, HUAIJE DEL

MSELMEEN" (things of the Moors, things of the Moors); and

showed no other respect for the place where Abderrahman the

Magnificent prostrated himself of old, than facing about on

arriving at the farther door and making their egress backwards;

yet these men were hajis and talebs, men likewise of much gold

and silver, men who had read, who had travelled, who had seen

Mecca, and the great city of Negroland.



I remained in Cordova much longer than I had originally

intended, owing to the accounts which I was continually hearing

of the unsafe state of the roads to Madrid.  I soon ransacked

every nook and cranny of this ancient town, formed various

acquaintances amongst the populace, which is my general

practice on arriving at a strange place.  I more than once

ascended the side of the Sierra Morena, in which excursions I

was accompanied by the son of my host, - the tall lad of whom I

have already spoken.  The people of the house, who had imbibed

the idea that I was of the same way of thinking as themselves,

were exceedingly courteous; it is true, that in return I was

compelled to listen to a vast deal of Carlism, in other words,

high treason against the ruling powers in Spain, to which,

however, I submitted with patience.  "Don Jorgito," said the

landlord to me one day, "I love the English; they are my best

customers.  It is a pity that there is not greater union

between Spain and England, and that more English do not visit

us.  Why should there not be a marriage?  The king will

speedily be at Madrid.  Why should there not be bodas between

the son of Don Carlos and the heiress of England?"



"It would certainly tend to bring a considerable number

of English to Spain," said I, "and it would not be the first

time that the son of a Carlos has married a Princess of

England."



The host mused for a moment, and then exclaimed,

"Carracho, Don Jorgito, if this marriage could be brought

about, both the king and myself should have cause to fling our

caps in the air."



The house or posada in which I had taken up my abode was

exceedingly spacious, containing an infinity of apartments,

both large and small, the greater part of which were, however,

unfurnished.  The chamber in which I was lodged stood at the

end of an immensely long corridor, of the kind so admirably

described in the wondrous tale of Udolfo.  For a day or two

after my arrival I believed myself to be the only lodger in the

house.  One morning, however, I beheld a strange-looking old

man seated in the corridor, by one of the windows, reading

intently in a small thick volume.  He was clad in garments of

coarse blue cloth, and wore a loose spencer over a waistcoat

adorned with various rows of small buttons of mother of pearl;

he had spectacles upon his nose.  I could perceive,

notwithstanding he was seated, that his stature bordered upon

the gigantic.  "Who is that person?" said I to the landlord,

whom I presently met; "is he also a guest of yours?"  "Not

exactly, Don Jorge de mi alma," replied he, "I can scarcely

call him a guest, inasmuch as I gain nothing by him, though he

is staying at my house.  You must know, Don Jorge, that he is

one of two priests who officiate at a large village at some

slight distance from this place.  So it came to pass, that when

the soldiers of Gomez entered the village, his reverence went

to meet them, dressed in full canonicals, with a book in his

hand, and he, at their bidding, proclaimed Carlos Quinto in the

market-place.  The other priest, however, was a desperate

liberal, a downright negro, and upon him the royalists laid

their hands, and were proceeding to hang him.  His reverence,

however, interfered, and obtained mercy for his colleague, on

condition that he should cry VIVA CARLOS QUINTO! which the

latter did in order to save his life.  Well; no sooner had the

royalists departed from these parts than the black priest

mounts his mule, comes to Cordova, and informs against his

reverence, notwithstanding that he had saved his life.  So his

reverence was seized and brought hither to Cordova, and would

assuredly have been thrown into the common prison as a Carlist,

had I not stepped forward and offered to be surety that he

should not quit the place, but should come forward at any time

to answer whatever charge might be brought against him; and he

is now in my house, though guest I cannot call him, for he is

not of the slightest advantage to me, as his very food is daily

brought from the country, and that consists only of a few eggs

and a little milk and bread.  As for his money, I have never

seen the colour of it, notwithstanding they tell me that he has

buenas pesetas.  However, he is a holy man, is continually

reading and praying and is, moreover, of the right opinion.  I

therefore keep him in my house, and would be bail for him were

he twenty times more of a skinflint than he seems to be."



The next day, as I was again passing through the

corridor, I observed the old man in the same place, and saluted

him.  He returned my salutation with much courtesy, and closing

the book, placed it upon his knee as if willing to enter into

conversation.  After exchanging a word or two, I took up the

book for the purpose of inspecting it.



"You will hardly derive much instruction from that book,

Don Jorge," said the old man; "you cannot understand it, for it

is not written in English."



"Nor in Spanish," I replied.  "But with respect to

understanding the book, I cannot see what difficulty there can

be in a thing so simple; it is only the Roman breviary written

in the Latin tongue."



"Do the English understand Latin?" exclaimed he.  "Vaya!

Who would have thought that it was possible for Lutherans to

understand the language of the church?  Vaya! the longer one

lives the more one learns."



"How old may your reverence be?" I inquired.



"I am eighty years, Don Jorge; eighty years, and somewhat

more."



Such was the first conversation which passed between his

reverence and myself.  He soon conceived no inconsiderable

liking for me, and favoured me with no little of his company.

Unlike our friend the landlord, I found him by no means

inclined to talk politics, which the more surprised me,

knowing, as I did, the decided and hazardous part which he had

taken on the late Carlist irruption into the neighbourhood.  He

took, however, great delight in discoursing on ecclesiastical

subjects and the writings of the fathers.



"I have got a small library at home, Don Jorge, which

consists of all the volumes of the fathers which I have been

able to pick up, and I find the perusal of them a source of

great amusement and comfort.  Should these dark days pass by,

Don Jorge, and you should be in these parts, I hope you will

look in upon me, and I will show you my little library of the

fathers, and likewise my dovecote, where I rear numerous broods

of pigeons, which are also a source of much solace and at the

same time of profit."



"I suppose by your dovecote," said I, "you mean your

parish, and by rearing broods of pigeons, you allude to the

care you take of the souls of your people, instilling therein

the fear of God, and obedience to his revealed law, which

occupation must of course afford you much solace and spiritual

profit."



"I was not speaking metaphorically, Don Jorge," replied

my companion; "and by rearing doves, I mean neither more nor

less than that I supply the market of Cordova with pigeons, and

occasionally that of Seville; for my birds are very celebrated,

and plumper or fatter flesh than theirs I believe cannot be

found in the whole kingdom.  Should you come into my village,

you will doubtless taste them, Don Jorge, at the venta where

you will put up, for I suffer no dovecotes but my own within my

district.  With respect to the souls of my parishioners, I

trust I do my duty - I trust I do, as far as in my power lies.

I always took great pleasure in these spiritual matters, and it

was on that account that I attached myself to the Santa Casa of

Cordova, the duties of which I assisted to perform for a long

period."



"Your reverence has been an inquisitor?" I exclaimed,

somewhat startled.



"From my thirtieth year until the time of the suppression

of the holy office in these afflicted kingdoms."



"You both surprise and delight me," I exclaimed.

"Nothing could have afforded me greater pleasure than to find

myself conversing with a father formerly attached to the holy

house of Cordova."



The old man looked at me steadfastly; "I understand you,

Don Jorge.  I have long seen that you are one of us.  You are a

learned and holy man; and though you think fit to call yourself

a Lutheran and an Englishman, I have dived into your real

condition.  No Lutheran would take the interest in church

matters which you do, and with respect to your being an

Englishman, none of that nation can speak Castilian, much less

Latin.  I believe you to be one of us - a missionary priest,

and I am especially confirmed in that idea by your frequent

conversations and interviews with the Gitanos; you appear to be

labouring among them.  Be, however, on your guard, Don Jorge,

trust not to Egyptian faith; they are evil penitents, whom I

like not.  I would not advise you to trust them."



"I do not intend," I replied; "especially with money.

But to return to more important matters: - of what crimes did

this holy house of Cordova take cognizance?"



"You are of course aware of the matters on which the holy

office exercises its functions.  I need scarcely mention

sorcery, Judaism, and certain carnal misdemeanours."



"With respect to sorcery," said I, "what is your opinion

of it?  Is there in reality such a crime?"



"QUE SE IO *?" said the old man, shrugging up his

shoulders.  "How should I know?  The church has power, Don

Jorge, or at least it had power, to punish for anything, real

or unreal; and as it was necessary to punish in order to prove

that it had the power of punishing, of what consequence whether

it punished for sorcery or any other crime."



* "How should I know?"



"Did many cases of sorcery occur within your own sphere

of knowledge?"



"One or two, Don Jorge; they were by no means frequent.

The last that I remember was a case which occurred in a convent

at Seville: a certain nun was in the habit of flying through

the windows and about the garden over the tops of the orange

trees; declarations of various witnesses were taken, and the

process was arranged with much formality; the fact, I believe,

was satisfactorily proved: of one thing I am certain, that the

nun was punished."



"Were you troubled with much Judaism in these parts?"



"Wooh!  Nothing gave so much trouble to the Santa Casa as

this same Judaism.  Its shoots and ramifications are numerous,

not only in these parts, but in all Spain; and it is singular

enough, that even among the priesthood, instances of Judaism of

both kinds were continually coming to our knowledge, which it

was of course our duty to punish."



"Is there more than one species of Judaism?" I demanded.



"I have always arranged Judaism under two heads," said

the old man, "the black and the white: by the black, I mean the

observance of the law of Moses in preference to the precepts of

the church; then there is the white Judaism, which includes all

kinds of heresy, such as Lutheranism, freemasonry, and the

like."



"I can easily conceive," said I, "that many of the

priesthood favoured the principles of the reformation, and that

the minds of not a few had been led astray by the deceitful

lights of modern philosophy, but it is almost inconceivable to

me that there should be Jews amongst the priesthood who follow

in secret the rites and observances of the old law, though I

confess that I have been assured of the fact ere now."



"Plenty of Judaism amongst the priesthood, whether of the

black or white species; no lack of it, I assure you, Don Jorge;

I remember once searching the house of an ecclesiastic who was

accused of the black Judaism, and after much investigation, we

discovered beneath the floor a wooden chest, in which was a

small shrine of silver, inclosing three books in black hogskin,

which, on being opened, were found to be books of Jewish

devotion, written in Hebrew characters, and of great antiquity;

and on being questioned, the culprit made no secret of his

guilt, but rather gloried in it, saying that there was no God

but one, and denouncing the adoration of Maria Santissima as

rank idolatry."



"And between ourselves, what is your own opinion of the

adoration of this same Maria Santissima?"



"What is my opinion!  QUE SE IO?" said the old man,

shrugging up his shoulders still higher than on the former

occasion; "but I will tell you; I think, on consideration, that

it is quite right and proper; why not?  Let any one pay a visit

to my church, and look at her as she stands there, TAN BONITA,

TAN GUAPITA - so well dressed and so genteel - with such pretty

colours, such red and white, and he would scarcely ask me why

Maria Santissima should not be adored.  Moreover, Don Jorgito

mio, this is a church matter and forms an important part of the

church system."



"And now, with respect to carnal misdemeanours.  Did you

take much cognizance of them?"



"Amongst the laity, not much; we, however, kept a

vigilant eye upon our own body, but, upon the whole, were

rather tolerant in these matters, knowing that the infirmities

of human nature are very great indeed: we rarely punished, save

in cases where the glory of the church and loyalty to Maria

Santissima made punishment absolutely imperative."



"And what cases might those be?" I demanded.



"I allude to the desecration of dovecotes, Don Jorge, and

the introduction therein of strange flesh, for purposes neither

seemly nor convenient."



"Your reverence will excuse me for not yet perfectly

understanding."



"I mean, Don Jorge, certain acts of flagitiousness

practised by the clergy in lone and remote palomares

(DOVECOTES) in olive grounds and gardens; actions denounced, I

believe, by the holy Pablo in his first letter to Pope Sixtus.

*  You understand me now, Don Jorge, for you are learned in

church matters."



* Qu. The Epistle to the Romans.



"I think I understand you," I replied.



After remaining several days more at Cordova, I

determined to proceed on my journey to Madrid, though the roads

were still said to be highly insecure.  I, however, saw but

little utility in tarrying and awaiting a more tranquil state

of affairs, which might never arrive.  I therefore consulted

with the landlord respecting the best means of making the

journey.  "Don Jorgito," he replied, "I think I can tell you.

You say you are anxious to depart, and I never wish to keep

guests in my house longer than is agreeable to them; to do so,

would not become a Christian inn-keeper: I leave such conduct

to Moors, Christinos, and Negroes.  I will further you on your

journey, Don Jorge: I have a plan in my head, which I had

resolved to propose to you before you questioned me.  There is

my wife's brother, who has two horses which he occasionally

lets out for hire; you shall hire them, Don Jorge, and he

himself shall attend you to take care of you, and to comfort

you, and to talk to you, and you shall pay him forty dollars

for the journey.  Moreover, as there are thieves upon the

route, and MALOS SUJETOS, such as Palillos and his family, you

shall make an engagement and a covenant, Don Jorge, that

provided you are robbed and stripped on the route, and the

horses of my wife's brother are taken from him by the thieves,

you shall, on arriving at Madrid, make good any losses to which

my wife's brother may be subject in following you.  This is my

plan, Don Jorge, which no doubt will meet with your worship's

approbation, as it is devised solely for your benefit, and not

with any view of lucre or interest either to me or mine.  You

will find my wife's brother pleasant company on the route: he

is a very respectable man, and one of the right opinion, and

has likewise travelled much; for between ourselves, Don Jorge,

he is something of a Contrabandista and frequently smuggles

diamonds and precious stones from Portugal, which he disposes

of sometimes in Cordova and sometimes at Madrid.  He is

acquainted with all the short cuts, all the atajos, Don Jorge,

and is much respected in all the ventas and posadas on the way;

so now give me your hand upon the bargain, and I will forthwith

repair to my wife's brother to tell him to get ready to set out

with your worship the day after to-morrow."







CHAPTER XVIII







Departure from Cordova - The Contrabandista - Jewish Cunning -

Arrival at Madrid.



One fine morning, I departed from Cordova, in company

with the Contrabandista; the latter was mounted on a handsome

animal, something between a horse and a pony, which he called a

jaca, of that breed for which Cordova is celebrated.  It was of

a bright bay colour, with a star in its forehead, with strong

but elegant limbs, and a long black tail, which swept the

ground.  The other animal, which was destined to carry me to

Madrid, was not quite so prepossessing in its appearance: in

more than one respect it closely resembled a hog, particularly

in the curving of its back, the shortness of its neck, and the

manner in which it kept its head nearly in contact with the

ground: it had also the tail of a hog, and meandered over the

ground much like one.  Its coat more resembled coarse bristles

than hair, and with respect to size, I have seen many a

Westphalian hog quite as tall.  I was not altogether satisfied

with the idea of exhibiting myself on the back of this most

extraordinary quadruped, and looked wistfully on the

respectable animal on which my guide had thought proper to

place himself; he interpreted my glances, and gave me to

understand that as he was destined to carry the baggage, he was

entitled to the best horse; a plea too well grounded on reason

for me to make any objection to it.



I found the Contrabandista by no means such pleasant

company on the road as I had been led to suppose he would prove

from the representation of my host of Cordova.  Throughout the

day he sat sullen and silent, and rarely replied to my

questions, save by a monosyllable; at night, however, after

having eaten well and drank proportionably at my expense, he

would occasionally become more sociable and communicative.  "I

have given up smuggling," said he, on one of these occasions,

"owing to a trick which was played upon me the last time that I

was at Lisbon: a Jew whom I had been long acquainted with

palmed upon me a false brilliant for a real stone.  He effected

it in the most extraordinary manner, for I am not such a novice

as not to know a true diamond when I see one; but the Jew

appears to have had two, with which he played most adroitly,

keeping the valuable one for which I bargained, and

substituting therefor another which, though an excellent

imitation, was not worth four dollars.  I did not discover the

trick until I was across the border, and upon my hurrying back,

the culprit was not to be found; his priest, however, told me

that he was just dead and buried, which was of course false, as

I saw him laughing in the corners of his eyes.  I renounced the

contraband trade from that moment."



It is not my intention to describe minutely the various

incidents of this journey.  Leaving at our right the mountains

of Jaen, we passed through Andujar and Bailen, and on the third

day reached Carolina, a small but beautiful town on the skirts

of the Sierra Morena, inhabited by the descendants of German

colonists.  Two leagues from this place, we entered the defile

of Despena Perros, which, even in quiet times, has an evil

name, on account of the robberies which are continually being

perpetrated within its recesses, but at the period of which I

am speaking, it was said to be swarming with banditti.  We of

course expected to be robbed, perhaps stripped and otherwise

ill-treated; but Providence here manifested itself.  It

appeared that, the day before our arrival, the banditti of the

pass had committed a dreadful robbery and murder, by which they

gained forty thousand rials.  This booty probably contented

them for a time; certain it is that we were not interrupted: we

did not even see a single individual in the pass, though we

occasionally heard whistles and loud cries.  We entered La

Mancha, where I expected to fall into the hands of Palillos and

Orejita.  Providence again showed itself.  It had been

delicious weather, suddenly the Lord breathed forth a frozen

blast, the severity of which was almost intolerable; no human

beings but ourselves ventured forth.  We traversed snow-covered

plains, and passed through villages and towns to all appearance

deserted.  The robbers kept close in their caves and hovels,

but the cold nearly killed us.  We reached Aranjuez late on

Christmas Day, and I got into the house of an Englishman, where

I swallowed nearly a pint of brandy; it affected me no more

than warm water.



On the following day we arrived at Madrid, where we had

the good fortune to find everything tranquil and quiet.  The

Contrabandista continued with me for two days, at the end of

which time he returned to Cordova upon the uncouth animal on

which I had ridden throughout the journey.  I had myself

purchased the jaca, whose capabilities I had seen on the route,

and which I imagined might prove useful in future journeys.

The Contrabandista was so satisfied with the price which I gave

him for his beast, and the general treatment which he had

experienced at my hands during the time of his attendance upon

me, that he would fain have persuaded me to retain him as a

servant, assuring me that, in the event of my compliance, he

would forget his wife and children and follow me through the

world.  I declined, however, to accede to his request, though I

was in need of a domestic; I therefore sent him back to

Cordova, where, as I subsequently learned, he died suddenly,

about a week after his return.



The manner of his death was singular: one day he took out

his purse, and, after counting his money, said to his wife, "I

have made ninety-five dollars by this journey with the

Englishman and by the sale of the jaca; this I could easily

double by one successful venture in the smuggling lay.  To-

morrow I will depart for Lisbon to buy diamonds.  I wonder if

the beast requires to be shod?"  He then started up and made

for the door, with the intention of going to the stable; ere,

however, his foot had crossed the threshold, he fell dead on

the floor.  Such is the course of the world.  Well said the

wise king: Let no one boast of the morrow.







CHAPTER XIX







Arrival at Madrid - Maria Diaz - Printing of the Testament -

My Project - Andalusian Steed - Servant Wanted - An Application -

Antonio Buchini - General Cordova - Principles of Honour.





On my arrival at Madrid I did not repair to my former

lodgings in the Calle de la Zarza, but took others in the Calle

de Santiago, in the vicinity of the palace.  The name of the

hostess (for there was, properly speaking, no host) was Maria

Diaz, of whom I shall take the present opportunity of saying

something in particular.



She was a woman of about thirty-five years of age, rather

good-looking, and with a physiognomy every lineament of which

bespoke intelligence of no common order.  Her eyes were keen

and penetrating, though occasionally clouded with a somewhat

melancholy expression.  There was a particular calmness and

quiet in her general demeanour, beneath which, however,

slumbered a firmness of spirit and an energy of action which

were instantly displayed whenever necessary.  A Spaniard and,

of course, a Catholic, she was possessed of a spirit of

toleration and liberality which would have done honour to

individuals much her superior in station.  In this woman,

during the remainder of my sojourn in Spain, I found a firm and

constant friend, and occasionally a most discreet adviser: she

entered into all my plans, I will not say with enthusiasm,

which, indeed, formed no part of her character, but with

cordiality and sincerity, forwarding them to the utmost of her

ability.  She never shrank from me in the hour of danger and

persecution, but stood my friend, notwithstanding the many

inducements which were held out to her by my enemies to desert

or betray me.  Her motives were of the noblest kind, friendship

and a proper feeling of the duties of hospitality; no prospect,

no hope of self-interest, however remote, influenced this

admirable woman in her conduct towards me.  Honour to Maria

Diaz, the quiet, dauntless, clever Castilian female.  I were an

ingrate not to speak well of her, for richly has she deserved

an eulogy in the humble pages of THE BIBLE IN SPAIN.



She was a native of Villa Seca, a hamlet of New Castile,

situated in what is called the Sagra, at about three leagues'

distance from Toledo: her father was an architect of some

celebrity, particularly skilled in erecting bridges.  At a very

early age she married a respectable yeoman of Villa Seca, Lopez

by name, by whom she had three sons.  On the death of her

father, which occurred about five years previous to the time of

which I am speaking, she removed to Madrid, partly for the

purpose of educating her children, and partly in the hope of

obtaining from the government a considerable sum of money for

which it stood indebted to her father, at the time of his

decease, for various useful and ornamental works, principally

in the neighbourhood of Aranjuez.  The justness of her claim

was at once acknowledged; but, alas! no money was forthcoming,

the royal treasury being empty.  Her hopes of earthly happiness

were now concentrated in her children.  The two youngest were

still of a very tender age; but the eldest, Juan Jose Lopez, a

lad of about sixteen, was bidding fair to realize the warmest

hopes of his affectionate mother; he had devoted himself to the

arts, in which he made such progress that he had already become

the favourite pupil of his celebrated namesake Lopez, the best

painter of modern Spain.  Such was Maria Diaz, who, according

to a custom formerly universal in Spain, and still very

prevalent, retained the name of her maidenhood though married.

Such was Maria Diaz and her family.



One of my first cares was to wait on Mr. Villiers, who

received me with his usual kindness.  I asked him whether he

considered that I might venture to commence printing the

Scriptures without any more applications to government.  His

reply was satisfactory: "You obtained the permission of the

government of Isturitz," said he, "which was a much less

liberal one than the present.  I am a witness to the promise

made to you by the former ministers, which I consider

sufficient.  You had best commence and complete the work as

soon as possible, without any fresh application; and should any

one attempt to interrupt you, you have only to come to me, whom

you may command at any time."  So I went away with a light

heart, and forthwith made preparation for the execution of the

object which had brought me to Spain.



I shall not enter here into unnecessary details, which

could possess but little interest for the reader; suffice it to

say that, within three months from this time, an edition of the

New Testament, consisting of five thousand copies, was

published at Madrid.  The work was printed at the establishment

of Mr. Borrego, a well-known writer on political economy, and

proprietor and editor of an influential newspaper called El

Espanol.  To this gentleman I had been recommended by Isturitz

himself, on the day of my interview with him.  That unfortunate

minister had, indeed, the highest esteem for Borrego, and had

intended raising him to the station of minister of finance,

when the revolution of the Granja occurring, of course rendered

abortive this project, with perhaps many others of a similar

kind which he might have formed.



The Spanish version of the New Testament which was thus

published, had been made many years before by a certain Padre

Filipe Scio, confessor of Ferdinand the Seventh, and had even

been printed, but so encumbered by notes and commentaries as to

be unfitted for general circulation, for which, indeed, it was

never intended.  In the present edition, the notes were of

course omitted, and the inspired word, and that alone, offered

to the public.  It was brought out in a handsome octavo volume,

and presented, upon the whole, a rather favourable specimen of

Spanish typography.



The mere printing, however, of the New Testament at

Madrid could be attended with no utility whatever, unless

measures, and energetic ones, were taken for the circulation of

the sacred volume.



In the case of the New Testament, it would not do to

follow the usual plan of publication in Spain, namely, to

entrust the work to the booksellers of the capital, and rest

content with the sale which they and their agents in the

provincial towns might be able to obtain for it, in the common

routine of business; the result generally being, the

circulation of a few dozen copies in the course of the year; as

the demand for literature of every kind in Spain was miserably

small.



The Christians of England had already made considerable

sacrifices in the hope of disseminating the word of God largely

amongst the Spaniards, and it was now necessary to spare no

exertion to prevent that hope becoming abortive.  Before the

book was ready, I had begun to make preparations for putting a

plan into execution, which had occupied my thoughts

occasionally during my former visit to Spain, and which I had

never subsequently abandoned.  I had mused on it when off Cape

Finisterre in the tempest; in the cut-throat passes of the

Morena; and on the plains of La Mancha, as I jogged along a

little way ahead of the Contrabandista.



I had determined, after depositing a certain number of

copies in the shops of the booksellers of Madrid, to ride

forth, Testament in hand, and endeavour to circulate the word

of God amongst the Spaniards, not only of the towns but of the

villages; amongst the children not only of the plains but of

the hills and mountains.  I intended to visit Old Castile, and

to traverse the whole of Galicia and the Asturias, - to

establish Scripture depots in the principal towns, and to visit

the people in secret and secluded spots, - to talk to them of

Christ, to explain to them the nature of his book, and to place

that book in the hands of those whom I should deem capable of

deriving benefit from it.  I was aware that such a journey

would be attended with considerable danger, and very possibly

the fate of St. Stephen might overtake me; but does the man

deserve the name of a follower of Christ who would shrink from

danger of any kind in the cause of Him whom he calls his

Master?  "He who loses his life for my sake, shall find it,"

are words which the Lord himself uttered.  These words were

fraught with consolation to me, as they doubtless are to every

one engaged in propagating the gospel in sincerity of heart, in

savage and barbarian lands.



I now purchased another horse; for these animals, at the

time of which I am speaking, were exceedingly cheap.  A royal

requisition was about to be issued for five thousand, the

consequence being, that an immense number were for sale, for,

by virtue of this requisition, the horses of any person not a

foreigner could be seized for the benefit of the service.  It

was probable that, when the number was made up, the price of

horses would be treble what it then was, which consideration

induced me to purchase this animal before I exactly wanted him.

He was a black Andalusian stallion of great power and strength,

and capable of performing a journey of a hundred leagues in a

week's time, but he was unbroke, savage, and furious.  A cargo

of Bibles, however, which I hoped occasionally to put on his

back, would, I had no doubt, thoroughly tame him, especially

when labouring up the flinty hills of the north of Spain.  I

wished to have purchased a mule, but, though I offered thirty

pounds for a sorry one, I could not obtain her; whereas the

cost of both the horses, tall powerful stately animals,

scarcely amounted to that sum.



The state of the surrounding country at this time was not

very favourable for venturing forth: Cabrera was within nine

leagues of Madrid, with an army nearly ten thousand strong; he

had beaten several small detachments of the queen's troops, and

had ravaged La Mancha with fire and sword, burning several

towns; bands of affrighted fugitives were arriving every hour,

bringing tidings of woe and disaster, and I was only surprised

that the enemy did not appear, and by taking Madrid, which was

almost at his mercy, put an end to the war at once.  But the

truth is, that the Carlist generals did not wish the war to

cease, for as long as the country was involved in bloodshed and

anarchy, they could plunder and exercise that lawless authority

so dear to men of fierce and brutal passions.  Cabrera,

moreover, was a dastardly wretch, whose limited mind was

incapable of harbouring a single conception approaching to

grandeur; whose heroic deeds were confined to cutting down

defenceless men, and to forcing and disembowelling unhappy

women; and yet I have seen this wretched fellow termed by

French journals (Carlist of course) the young, the heroic

general.  Infamy on the cowardly assassin!  The shabbiest

corporal of Napoleon would have laughed at his generalship, and

half a battalion of Austrian grenadiers would have driven him

and his rabble army headlong into the Ebro.



I now made preparations for my journey into the north.  I

was already provided with horses well calculated to support the

fatigues of the road and the burdens which I might deem

necessary to impose upon them.  One thing, however, was still

lacking, indispensable to a person about to engage on an

expedition of this description; I mean a servant to attend me.

Perhaps there is no place in the world where servants more

abound than at Madrid, or at least fellows eager to proffer

their services in the expectation of receiving food and wages,

though, with respect to the actual service which they are

capable of performing, not much can be said; but I was in want

of a servant of no common description, a shrewd active fellow,

of whose advice, in cases of emergency, I could occasionally

avail myself; courageous withal, for it certainly required some

degree of courage to follow a master bent on exploring the

greater part of Spain, and who intended to travel, not under

the protection of muleteers and carmen, but on his own

cabalgaduras.  Such a servant, perhaps, I might have sought for

years without finding; chance, however, brought one to my hand

at the very time I wanted him, without it being necessary for

me to make any laborious perquisitions.  I was one day

mentioning the subject to Mr. Borrego, at whose establishment I

had printed the New Testament, and inquiring whether he thought

that such an individual was to be found in Madrid, adding that

I was particularly anxious to obtain a servant who, besides

Spanish, could speak some other language, that occasionally we

might discourse without being understood by those who might

overhear us.  "The very description of person," he replied,

"that you appear to be in need of, quitted me about half an

hour ago, and, it is singular enough, came to me in the hope

that I might be able to recommend him to a master.  He has been

twice in my service: for his talent and courage I will answer;

and I believe him to be trustworthy, at least to masters who

may chime in with his humour, for I must inform you that he is

a most extraordinary fellow, full of strange likes and

antipathies, which he will gratify at any expense, either to

himself or others.  Perhaps he will attach himself to you, in

which case you will find him highly valuable; for if he please

he can turn his hand to any thing, and is not only acquainted

with two but half a dozen languages."



"Is he a Spaniard?" I inquired.



"I will send him to you to-morrow," said Borrego, "you

will best learn from his own mouth who and what he is."



The next day, as I had just sat down to my "sopa," my

hostess informed me that a man wished to speak to me.  "Admit

him," said I, and he almost instantly made his appearance.  He

was dressed respectably in the French fashion, and had rather a

juvenile look, though I subsequently learned that he was

considerably above forty.  He was somewhat above the middle

stature, and might have been called well made, had it not been

for his meagreness, which was rather remarkable.  His arms were

long and bony, and his whole form conveyed an idea of great

activity united with no slight degree of strength: his hair was

wiry, but of jetty blackness; his forehead low; his eyes small

and grey, expressive of much subtlety and no less malice,

strangely relieved by a strong dash of humour; the nose was

handsome, but the mouth was immensely wide, and his under jaw

projected considerably.  A more singular physiognomy I had

never seen, and I continued staring at him for some time in

silence.  "Who are you?" I at last demanded.



"Domestic in search of a master," answered the man in

good French, but in a strange accent.  "I come recommended to

you, my Lor, by Monsieur B."



MYSELF. - Of what nation may you be?  Are you French or Spanish?



MAN. - God forbid that I should be either, mi Lor, J'AI

L'HONNEUR D'ETRE DE LA NATION GRECQUE, my name is Antonio

Buchini, native of Pera the Belle near to Constantinople.



MYSELF. - And what brought you to Spain?



BUCHINI. - MI LOR, JE VAIS VOUS RACONTER MON HISTOIRE DU

COMMENCEMENT JUSQU'ICI: - my father was a native of Sceira in

Greece, from whence at an early age he repaired to Pera, where

he served as janitor in the hotels of various ambassadors, by

whom he was much respected for his fidelity.  Amongst others of

these gentlemen, he served him of your own nation: this

occurred at the time that there was war between England and the

Porte. * Monsieur the Ambassador had to escape for his life,

leaving the greater part of his valuables to the care of my

father, who concealed them at his own great risk, and when the

dispute was settled, restored them to Monsieur, even to the

most inconsiderable trinket.  I mention this circumstance to

show you that I am of a family which cherishes principles of

honour, and in which confidence may be placed.  My father

married a daughter of Pera, ET MOI JE SUIS L'UNIQUE FRUIT DE CE

MARIAGE.  Of my mother I know nothing, as she died shortly

after my birth.  A family of wealthy Jews took pity on my

forlorn condition and offered to bring me up, to which my

father gladly consented; and with them I continued several

years, until I was a BEAU GARCON; they were very fond of me,

and at last offered to adopt me, and at their death to bequeath

me all they had, on condition of my becoming a Jew.  MAIS LA

CIRCONCISION N'ETOIT GUERE A MON GOUT; especially that of the

Jews, for I am a Greek, am proud, and have principles of

honour.  I quitted them, therefore, saying that if ever I

allowed myself to be converted, it should be to the faith of

the Turks, for they are men, are proud, and have principles of

honour like myself.  I then returned to my father, who procured

me various situations, none of which were to my liking, until I

was placed in the house of Monsieur Zea.



* This was possibly the period when Admiral Duckworth

attempted to force the passage of the Dardanelles.



MYSELF. - You mean, I suppose, Zea Bermudez, who chanced

to be at Constantinople.



BUCHINI. - Just so, mi Lor, and with him I continued

during his stay.  He put great confidence in me, more

especially as I spoke the pure Spanish language, which I

acquired amongst the Jews, who, as I have heard Monsieur Zea

say, speak it better than the present natives of Spain.



I shall not follow the Greek step by step throughout his

history, which was rather lengthy: suffice it to say, that he

was brought by Zea Bermudez from Constantinople to Spain, where

he continued in his service for many years, and from whose

house he was expelled for marrying a Guipuscoan damsel, who was

fille de chambre to Madame Zea; since which time it appeared

that he had served an infinity of masters; sometimes as valet,

sometimes as cook, but generally in the last capacity.  He

confessed, however, that he had seldom continued more than

three days in the same service, on account of the disputes

which were sure to arise in the house almost immediately after

his admission, and for which he could assign no other reason

than his being a Greek, and having principles of honour.

Amongst other persons whom he had served was General Cordova,

who he said was a bad paymaster, and was in the habit of

maltreating his domestics.  "But he found his match in me,"

said Antonio, "for I was prepared for him; and once, when he

drew his sword against me, I pulled out a pistol and pointed it

in his face.  He grew pale as death, and from that hour treated

me with all kinds of condescension.  It was only pretence,

however, for the affair rankled in his mind; he had determined

upon revenge, and on being appointed to the command of the

army, he was particularly anxious that I should attend him to

the camp.  MAIS JE LUI RIS AU NEZ, made the sign of the

cortamanga - asked for my wages, and left him; and well it was

that I did so, for the very domestic whom he took with him he

caused to be shot upon a charge of mutiny."



"I am afraid," said I, "that you are of a turbulent

disposition, and that the disputes to which you have alluded

are solely to be attributed to the badness of your temper."



"What would you have, Monsieur?  MOI JE SUIS GREC, JE

SUIS FIER ET J'AI DES PRINCIPES D'HONNEUR.  I expect to be

treated with a certain consideration, though I confess that my

temper is none of the best, and that at times I am tempted to

quarrel with the pots and pans in the kitchen.  I think, upon

the whole, that it will be for your advantage to engage me, and

I promise you to be on my guard.  There is one thing that

pleases me relating to you, you are unmarried.  Now, I would

rather serve a young unmarried man for love and friendship,

than a Benedict for fifty dollars per month.  Madame is sure to

hate me, and so is her waiting woman; and more particularly the

latter, because I am a married man.  I see that mi Lor is

willing to engage me."



"But you say you are a married man," I replied; "how can

you desert your wife, for I am about to leave Madrid, and to

travel into the remote and mountainous parts of Spain."



"My wife will receive the moiety of my wages, while I am

absent, mi Lor, and therefore will have no reason to complain

of being deserted.  Complain! did I say; my wife is at present

too well instructed to complain.  She never speaks nor sits in

my presence unless I give her permission.  Am I not a Greek,

and do I not know how to govern my own house?  Engage me, mi

Lor, I am a man of many capacities: a discreet valet, an

excellent cook, a good groom and light rider; in a word, I am

[Greek word which cannot be reproduced].  What would you more?"



I asked him his terms, which were extravagant,

notwithstanding his PRINCIPES D'HONNEUR.  I found, however,

that he was willing to take one half.



I had no sooner engaged him, than seizing the tureen of

soup, which had by this time become quite cold, he placed it on

the top of his forefinger, or rather on the nail thereof,

causing it to make various circumvolutions over his head, to my

great astonishment, without spilling a drop, then springing

with it to the door, he vanished, and in another moment made

his appearance with the puchera, which, after a similar bound

and flourish, he deposited on the table; then suffering his

hands to sink before him, he put one over the other and stood

at his ease with half-shut eyes, for all the world as if he had

been in my service twenty years.



And in this manner Antonio Buchini entered upon his

duties.  Many was the wild spot to which he subsequently

accompanied me; many the wild adventure of which he was the

sharer.  His behaviour was frequently in the highest degree

extraordinary, but he served me courageously and faithfully:

such a valet, take him for all in all,





"His like I ne'er expect to see again."





KOSKO BAKH ANTON.







CHAPTER XX







Illness - Nocturnal Visit - A Master Mind - The Whisper - Salamanca -

Irish Hospitality - Spanish Soldiers - The Scriptures advertised.





But I am anxious to enter upon the narrative of my

journey, and shall therefore abstain from relating to my

readers a great many circumstances which occurred previously to

my leaving Madrid on this expedition.  About the middle of May

I had got everything in readiness, and I bade farewell to my

friends.  Salamanca was the first place which I intended to

visit.



Some days previous to my departure I was very much

indisposed, owing to the state of the weather, for violent and

biting winds had long prevailed.  I had been attacked with a

severe cold, which terminated in a disagreeable cough, which

the many remedies I successively tried seemed unable to subdue.

I had made preparations for departing on a particular day, but,

owing to the state of my health, I was apprehensive that I

should be compelled to defer my journey for a time.  The last

day of my stay in Madrid, finding myself scarcely able to

stand, I was fain to submit to a somewhat desperate experiment,

and by the advice of the barber-surgeon who visited me, I

determined to be bled.  Late on the night of that same day he

took from me sixteen ounces of blood, and having received his

fee left me, wishing me a pleasant journey, and assuring me,

upon his reputation, that by noon the next day I should be

perfectly recovered.



A few minutes after his departure, whilst I was sitting

alone, meditating on the journey which I was about to

undertake, and on the ricketty state of my health, I heard a

loud knock at the street door of the house, on the third floor

of which I was lodged.  In another minute Mr. S- of the British

Embassy entered my apartment.  After a little conversation, he

informed me that Mr. Villiers had desired him to wait upon me

to communicate a resolution which he had come to.  Being

apprehensive that, alone and unassisted, I should experience

great difficulty in propagating the gospel of God to any

considerable extent in Spain, he was bent upon exerting to the

utmost his own credit and influence to further my views, which

he himself considered, if carried into proper effect, extremely

well calculated to operate beneficially on the political and

moral state of the country.  To this end it was his intention

to purchase a very considerable number of copies of the New

Testament, and to dispatch them forthwith to the various

British consuls established in different parts of Spain, with

strict and positive orders to employ all the means which their

official situation should afford them to circulate the books in

question and to assure their being noticed.  They were,

moreover, to be charged to afford me, whenever I should appear

in their respective districts, all the protection,

encouragement, and assistance which I should stand in need of.



I was of course much rejoiced on receiving this

information, for though I had long been aware that Mr. Villiers

was at all times willing to assist me, he having frequently

given me sufficient proof, I could never expect that he would

come forward in so noble, and, to say the least of it,

considering his high diplomatic situation, so bold and decided

a manner.  I believe that this was the first instance of a

British ambassador having made the cause of the Bible Society a

national one, or indeed of having favoured it directly or

indirectly.  What renders the case of Mr. Villiers more

remarkable is, that on my first arrival at Madrid I found him

by no means well disposed towards the Society.  The Holy Spirit

had probably illumined his mind on this point.  I hoped that by

his means our institution would shortly possess many agents in

Spain, who, with far more power and better opportunities than I

myself could ever expect to possess, would scatter abroad the

seed of the gospel, and make of a barren and thirsty wilderness

a green and smiling corn-field.



A word or two about the gentleman who paid me this

nocturnal visit.  Though he has probably long since forgotten

the humble circulator of the Bible in Spain, I still bear in

mind numerous acts of kindness which I experienced at his

hands.  Endowed with an intellect of the highest order, master

of the lore of all Europe, profoundly versed in the ancient

tongues, and speaking most of the modern dialects with

remarkable facility, - possessed, moreover, of a thorough

knowledge of mankind, - he brought with him into the diplomatic

career advantages such as few, even the most highly gifted, can

boast of.  During his sojourn in Spain he performed many

eminent services for the government which employed him;

services which, I believe, it had sufficient discernment to

see, and gratitude to reward.  He had to encounter, however,

the full brunt of the low and stupid malignity of the party

who, shortly after the time of which I am speaking, usurped the

management of the affairs of Spain.  This party, whose foolish

manoeuvres he was continually discomfiting, feared and hated

him as its evil genius, taking every opportunity of showering

on his head calumnies the most improbable and absurd.  Amongst

other things, he was accused of having acted as an agent to the

English government in the affair of the Granja, bringing about

that revolution by bribing the mutinous soldiers, and more

particularly the notorious Sergeant Garcia.  Such an accusation

will of course merely extract a smile from those who are at all

acquainted with the English character, and the general line of

conduct pursued by the English government.  It was a charge,

however, universally believed in Spain, and was even preferred

in print by a certain journal, the official organ of the silly

Duke of Frias, one of the many prime ministers of the moderado

party who followed each other in rapid succession towards the

latter period of the Carlist and Christino struggle.  But when

did a calumnious report ever fall to the ground in Spain by the

weight of its own absurdity?  Unhappy land, not until the pure

light of the Gospel has illumined thee wilt thou learn that the

greatest of all gifts is charity.



The next day verified the prediction of the Spanish

surgeon; I had to a considerable degree lost my cough and

fever, though, owing to the loss of blood, I was somewhat

feeble.  Precisely at twelve o'clock the horses were led forth

before the door of my lodging in the Calle de Santiago, and I

prepared to mount: but my black entero of Andalusia would not

permit me to approach his side, and whenever I made the

attempt, commenced wheeling round with great rapidity.



"C'EST UN MAUVAIS SIGNE, MON MAITRE," said Antonio, who,

dressed in a green jerkin, a Montero cap, booted and spurred,

stood ready to attend me, holding by the bridle the horse which

I had purchased from the contrabandista.  "It is a bad sign,

and in my country they would defer the journey till to-morrow."



"Are there whisperers in your country?" I demanded; and

taking the horse by the mane, I performed the ceremony after

the most approved fashion: the animal stood still, and I

mounted the saddle, exclaiming -





"The Rommany Chal to his horse did cry,

As he placed the bit in his horse's jaw;

Kosko gry! Rommany gry!

Muk man kistur tute knaw."





We then rode forth from Madrid by the gate of San

Vincente, directing our course to the lofty mountains which

separate Old from New Castile.  That night we rested at

Guadarama, a large village at their foot, distant from Madrid

about seven leagues.  Rising early on the following morning, we

ascended the pass and entered into Old Castile.



After crossing the mountains, the route to Salamanca lies

almost entirely over sandy and arid plains, interspersed here

and there with thin and scanty groves of pine.  No adventure

worth relating occurred during this journey.  We sold a few

Testaments in the villages through which we passed, more

especially at Penaranda.  About noon of the third day, on

reaching the brow of a hillock, we saw a huge dome before us,

upon which the fierce rays of the sun striking, produced the

appearance of burnished gold.  It belonged to the cathedral of

Salamanca, and we flattered ourselves that we were already at

our journey's end; we were deceived, however, being still four

leagues distant from the town, whose churches and convents,

towering up in gigantic masses, can be distinguished at an

immense distance, flattering the traveller with an idea of

propinquity which does not in reality exist.  It was not till

long after nightfall that we arrived at the city gate, which we

found closed and guarded, in apprehension of a Carlist attack;

and having obtained admission with some difficulty, we led our

horses along dark, silent, and deserted streets, till we found

an individual who directed us to a large, gloomy, and

comfortless posada, that of the Bull, which we, however,

subsequently found was the best which the town afforded.



A melancholy town is Salamanca; the days of its

collegiate glory are long since past by, never more to return:

a circumstance, however, which is little to be regretted; for

what benefit did the world ever derive from scholastic

philosophy?  And for that alone was Salamanca ever famous.  Its

halls are now almost silent, and grass is growing in its

courts, which were once daily thronged by at least eight

thousand students; a number to which, at the present day, the

entire population of the city does not amount.  Yet, with all

its melancholy, what an interesting, nay, what a magnificent

place is Salamanca!  How glorious are its churches, how

stupendous are its deserted convents, and with what sublime but

sullen grandeur do its huge and crumbling walls, which crown

the precipitous bank of the Tormes, look down upon the lovely

river and its venerable bridge.



What a pity that, of the many rivers in Spain, scarcely

one is navigable.  The beautiful but shallow Tormes, instead of

proving a source of blessing and wealth to this part of

Castile, is of no further utility than to turn the wheels of

various small water mills, standing upon weirs of stone, which

at certain distances traverse the river.



My sojourn at Salamanca was rendered particularly

pleasant by the kind attentions and continual acts of

hospitality which I experienced from the inmates of the Irish

College, to the rector of which I bore a letter of

recommendation from my kind and excellent friend Mr. O'Shea,

the celebrated banker of Madrid.  It will be long before I

forget these Irish, more especially their head, Dr. Gartland, a

genuine scion of the good Hibernian tree, an accomplished

scholar, and a courteous and high-minded gentleman.  Though

fully aware who I was, he held out the hand of friendship to

the wandering heretic missionary, although by so doing he

exposed himself to the rancorous remarks of the narrow-minded

native clergy, who, in their ugly shovel hats and long cloaks,

glared at me askance as I passed by their whispering groups

beneath the piazzas of the Plaza.  But when did the fear of

consequences cause an Irishman to shrink from the exercise of

the duties of hospitality?  However attached to his religion -

and who is so attached to the Romish creed as the Irishman? - I

am convinced that not all the authority of the Pope or the

Cardinals would induce him to close his doors on Luther

himself, were that respectable personage at present alive and

in need of food and refuge.



Honour to Ireland and her "hundred thousand welcomes!"

Her fields have long been the greenest in the world; her

daughters the fairest; her sons the bravest and most eloquent.

May they never cease to be so.



The posada where I had put up was a good specimen of the

old Spanish inn, being much the same as those described in the

time of Philip the Third or Fourth.  The rooms were many and

large, floored with either brick or stone, generally with an

alcove at the end, in which stood a wretched flock bed.  Behind

the house was a court, and in the rear of this a stable, full

of horses, ponies, mules, machos, and donkeys, for there was no

lack of guests, who, however, for the most part slept in the

stable with their caballerias, being either arrieros or small

peddling merchants who travelled the country with coarse cloth

or linen.  Opposite to my room in the corridor lodged a wounded

officer, who had just arrived from San Sebastian on a galled

broken-kneed pony; he was an Estrimenian, and was returning to

his own village to be cured.  He was attended by three broken

soldiers, lame or maimed, and unfit for service: they told me

that they were of the same village as his worship, and on that

account he permitted them to travel with him.  They slept

amongst the litter, and throughout the day lounged about the

house smoking paper cigars.  I never saw them eating, though

they frequently went to a dark cool corner, where stood a bota

or kind of water pitcher, which they held about six inches from

their black filmy lips, permitting the liquid to trickle down

their throats.  They said they had no pay, and were quite

destitute of money, that SU MERCED the officer occasionally

gave them a piece of bread, but that he himself was poor and

had only a few dollars.  Brave guests for an inn, thought I;

yet, to the honour of Spain be it spoken, it is one of the few

countries in Europe where poverty is never insulted nor looked

upon with contempt.  Even at an inn, the poor man is never

spurned from the door, and if not harboured, is at least

dismissed with fair words, and consigned to the mercies of God

and his mother.  This is as it should be.  I laugh at the

bigotry and prejudices of Spain; I abhor the cruelty and

ferocity which have cast a stain of eternal infamy on her

history; but I will say for the Spaniards, that in their social

intercourse no people in the world exhibit a juster feeling of

what is due to the dignity of human nature, or better

understand the behaviour which it behoves a man to adopt

towards his fellow beings.  I have said that it is one of the

few countries in Europe where poverty is not treated with

contempt, and I may add, where the wealthy are not blindly

idolized.  In Spain the very beggar does not feel himself a

degraded being, for he kisses no one's feet, and knows not what

it is to be cuffed or spitten upon; and in Spain the duke or

the marquis can scarcely entertain a very overweening opinion

of his own consequence, as he finds no one, with perhaps the

exception of his French valet, to fawn upon or flatter him.



During my stay at Salamanca, I took measures that the

word of God might become generally known in this celebrated

city.  The principal bookseller of the town, Blanco, a man of

great wealth and respectability, consented to become my agent

here, and I in consequence deposited in his shop a certain

number of New Testaments.  He was the proprietor of a small

printing press, where the official bulletin of the place was

published.  For this bulletin I prepared an advertisement of

the work, in which, amongst other things, I said that the New

Testament was the only guide to salvation; I also spoke of the

Bible Society, and the great pecuniary sacrifices which it was

making with the view of proclaiming Christ crucified, and of

making his doctrine known.  This step will perhaps be

considered by some as too bold, but I was not aware that I

could take any more calculated to arouse the attention of the

people - a considerable point.  I also ordered numbers of the

same advertisement to be struck off in the shape of bills,

which I caused to be stuck up in various parts of the town.  I

had great hope that by means of these a considerable number of

New Testaments would be sold.  I intended to repeat this

experiment in Valladolid, Leon, St. Jago, and all the principal

towns which I visited, and to distribute them likewise as I

rode along: the children of Spain would thus be brought to know

that such a work as the New Testament is in existence, a fact

of which not five in one hundred were then aware,

notwithstanding their so frequently-repeated boasts of their

Catholicity and Christianity.







CHAPTER XXI







Departure from Salamanca - Reception at Pitiegua - The Dilemma -

Sudden Inspiration - The Good Presbyter - Combat of Quadrupeds -

Irish Christians - Plains of Spain - The Catalans - Tha Fatal Pool -

Valladolid - Circulation of the Scriptures - Philippine Missions -

English College - A Conversation - The Gaoleress.





On Saturday, the tenth of June, I left Salamanca for

Valladolid.  As the village where we intended to rest was only

five leagues distant, we did not sally forth till midday was

past.  There was a haze in the heavens which overcast the sun,

nearly hiding his countenance from our view.  My friend, Mr.

Patrick Cantwell, of the Irish College, was kind enough to ride

with me part of the way.  He was mounted on a most sorry-

looking hired mule, which, I expected would be unable to keep

pace with the spirited horses of myself and man, for he seemed

to be twin brother of the mule of Gil Perez, on which his

nephew made his celebrated journey from Oviedo to Penaflor.  I

was, however, very much mistaken.  The creature on being

mounted instantly set off at that rapid walk which I have so

often admired in Spanish mules, and which no horse can emulate.

Our more stately animals were speedily left in the rear, and we

were continually obliged to break into a trot to follow the

singular quadruped, who, ever and anon, would lift his head

high in the air, curl up his lip, and show his yellow teeth, as

if he were laughing at us, as perhaps he was.  It chanced that

none of us was well acquainted with the road; indeed, I could

see nothing which was fairly entitled to that appellation.  The

way from Salamanca to Valladolid is amongst a medley of bridle-

paths and drift-ways, where discrimination is very difficult.

It was not long before we were bewildered, and travelled over

more ground than was strictly necessary.  However, as men and

women frequently passed on donkeys and little ponies, we were

not too proud to be set right by them, and by dint of diligent

inquiry we at length arrived at Pitiegua, four leagues from

Salamanca, a small village, containing about fifty families,

consisting of mud huts, and situated in the midst of dusty

plains, where corn was growing in abundance.  We asked for the

house of the cura, an old man whom I had seen the day before at

the Irish College, and who, on being informed that I was about

to depart for Valladolid, had exacted from me a promise that I

would not pass through his village without paying him a visit

and partaking of his hospitality.



A woman directed us to a cottage somewhat superior in

appearance to those contiguous.  It had a small portico, which,

if I remember well, was overgrown with a vine.  We knocked loud

and long at the door, but received no answer; the voice of man

was silent, and not even a dog barked.  The truth was, that the

old curate was taking his siesta, and so were his whole family,

which consisted of one ancient female and a cat.  The good man

was at last disturbed by our noise and vociferation, for we

were hungry, and consequently impatient.  Leaping from his

couch, he came running to the door in great hurry and

confusion, and perceiving us, he made many apologies for being

asleep at a period when, he said, he ought to have been on the

lookout for his invited guest.  He embraced me very

affectionately and conducted me into his parlour, an apartment

of tolerable size, hung round with shelves, which were crowded

with books.  At one end there was a kind of table or desk

covered with black leather, with a large easy chair, into which

he pushed me, as I, with the true eagerness of a bibliomaniac,

was about to inspect his shelves; saying, with considerable

vehemence, that there was nothing there worthy of the attention

of an Englishman, for that his whole stock consisted of

breviaries and dry Catholic treatises on divinity.



His care now was to furnish us with refreshments.  In a

twinkling, with the assistance of his old attendant, he placed

on the table several plates of cakes and confectionery, and a

number of large uncouth glass bottles, which I thought bore a

strong resemblance to those of Schiedam, and indeed they were

the very same.  "There," said he, rubbing his hands; "I thank

God that it is in my power to treat you in a way which will be

agreeable to you.  In those bottles there is Hollands thirty

years old"; and producing two large tumblers, he continued,

"fill, my friends, and drink, drink it every drop if you

please, for it is of little use to myself, who seldom drink

aught but water.  I know that you islanders love it, and cannot

live without it; therefore, since it does you good, I am only

sorry that there is no more."



Observing that we contented ourselves with merely tasting

it, he looked at us with astonishment, and inquired the reason

of our not drinking.  We told him that we seldom drank ardent

spirits; and I added, that as for myself, I seldom tasted even

wine, but like himself, was content with the use of water.  He

appeared somewhat incredulous, but told us to do exactly what

we pleased, and to ask for what was agreeable to us.  We told

him that we had not dined, and should be glad of some

substantial refreshment.  "I am afraid," said he, "that I have

nothing in the house which will suit you; however, we will go

and see."



Thereupon he led us through a small yard at the back part

of his house, which might have been called a garden, or

orchard, if it had displayed either trees or flowers; but it

produced nothing but grass, which was growing in luxuriance.

At one end was a large pigeon-house, which we all entered:

"for," said the curate, "if we could find some nice delicate

pigeons they would afford you an excellent dinner."  We were,

however, disappointed; for after rummaging the nests, we only

found very young ones, unfitted for our purpose.  The good man

became very melancholy, and said he had some misgivings that we

should have to depart dinnerless.  Leaving the pigeon-house, he

conducted us to a place where there were several skeps of bees,

round which multitudes of the busy insects were hovering,

filling the air with their music.  "Next to my fellow

creatures," said he, "there is nothing which I love so dearly

as these bees; it is one of my delights to sit watching them,

and listening to their murmur."  We next went to several

unfurnished rooms, fronting the yard, in one of which were

hanging several flitches of bacon, beneath which he stopped,

and looking up, gazed intently upon them.  We told him that if

he had nothing better to offer, we should be very glad to eat

some slices of this bacon, especially if some eggs were added.

"To tell the truth," said he, "I have nothing better, and if

you can content yourselves with such fare I shall be very

happy; as for eggs you can have as many as you wish, and

perfectly fresh, for my hens lay every day."



So, after every thing was prepared and arranged to our

satisfaction, we sat down to dine on the bacon and eggs, in a

small room, not the one to which he had ushered us at first,

but on the other side of the doorway.  The good curate, though

he ate nothing, having taken his meal long before, sat at the

head of the table, and the repast was enlivened by his chat.

"There, my friends," said he, "where you are now seated, once

sat Wellington and Crawford, after they had beat the French at

Arapiles, and rescued us from the thraldom of those wicked

people.  I never respected my house so much as I have done

since they honoured it with their presence.  They were heroes,

and one was a demigod."  He then burst into a most eloquent

panegyric of El Gran Lord, as he termed him, which I should be

very happy to translate, were my pen capable of rendering into

English the robust thundering sentences of his powerful

Castilian.  I had till then considered him a plain uninformed

old man, almost simple, and as incapable of much emotion as a

tortoise within its shell; but he had become at once inspired:

his eyes were replete with a bright fire, and every muscle of

his face was quivering.  The little silk skull-cap which he

wore, according to the custom of the Catholic clergy, moved up

and down with his agitation, and I soon saw that I was in the

presence of one of those remarkable men who so frequently

spring up in the bosom of the Romish church, and who to a

child-like simplicity unite immense energy and power of mind, -

equally adapted to guide a scanty flock of ignorant rustics in

some obscure village in Italy or Spain, as to convert millions

of heathens on the shores of Japan, China, and Paraguay.



He was a thin spare man, of about sixty-five, and was

dressed in a black cloak of very coarse materials, nor were his

other garments of superior quality.  This plainness, however,

in the appearance of his outward man was by no means the result

of poverty; quite the contrary.  The benefice was a very

plentiful one, and placed at his disposal annually a sum of at

least eight hundred dollars, of which the eighth part was more

than sufficient to defray the expenses of his house and

himself; the rest was devoted entirely to the purest acts of

charity.  He fed the hungry wanderer, and dispatched him

singing on his way, with meat in his wallet and a peseta in his

purse, and his parishioners, when in need of money, had only to

repair to his study and were sure of an immediate supply.  He

was, indeed, the banker of the village, and what he lent he

neither expected nor wished to be returned.  Though under the

necessity of making frequent journeys to Salamanca, he kept no

mule, but contented himself with an ass, borrowed from the

neighbouring miller.  "I once kept a mule," said he, "but some

years since it was removed without my permission by a traveller

whom I had housed for the night: for in that alcove I keep two

clean beds for the use of the wayfaring, and I shall be very

much pleased if yourself and friend will occupy them, and tarry

with me till the morning."



But I was eager to continue my journey, and my friend was

no less anxious to return to Salamanca.  Upon taking leave of

the hospitable curate, I presented him with a copy of the New

Testament.  He received it without uttering a single word, and

placed it on one of the shelves of his study; but I observed

him nodding significantly to the Irish student, perhaps as much

as to say, "Your friend loses no opportunity of propagating his

book"; for he was well aware who I was.  I shall not speedily

forget the truly good presbyter, Anthonio Garcia de Aguilar,

Cura of Pitiegua.



We reached Pedroso shortly before nightfall.  It was a

small village containing about thirty houses, and intersected

by a rivulet, or as it is called a regata.  On its banks women

and maidens were washing their linen and singing couplets; the

church stood lone and solitary on the farther side.  We

inquired for the posada, and were shown a cottage differing

nothing from the rest in general appearance.  We called at the

door in vain, as it is not the custom of Castile for the people

of these halting places to go out to welcome their visitors: at

last we dismounted and entered the house, demanding of a

sullen-looking woman where we were to place the horses.  She

said there was a stable within the house, but we could not put

the animals there as it contained malos machos (SAVAGE MULES)

belonging to two travellers who would certainly fight with our

horses, and then there would be a funcion, which would tear the

house down.  She then pointed to an outhouse across the way,

saying that we could stable them there.  We entered this place,

which we found full of filth and swine, with a door without a

lock.  I thought of the fate of the cura's mule, and was

unwilling to trust the horses in such a place, abandoning them

to the mercy of any robber in the neighbourhood.  I therefore

entered the house, and said resolutely, that I was determined

to place them in the stable.  Two men were squatted on the

ground, with an immense bowl of stewed hare before them, on

which they were supping; these were the travelling merchants,

the masters of the mutes.  I passed on to the stable, one of

the men saying softly, "Yes, yes, go in and see what will

befall."  I had no sooner entered the stable than I heard a

horrid discordant cry, something between a bray and a yell, and

the largest of the machos, tearing his head from the manger to

which he was fastened, his eyes shooting flames, and breathing

a whirlwind from his nostrils, flung himself on my stallion.

The horse, as savage as himself, reared on his hind legs, and

after the fashion of an English pugilist, repaid the other with

a pat on the forehead, which nearly felled him.  A combat

instantly ensued, and I thought that the words of the sullen

woman would be verified by the house being torn to pieces.  It

ended by my seizing the mute by the halter, at the risk of my

limbs, and hanging upon him with all my weight, whilst Antonio,

with much difficulty, removed the horse.  The man who had been

standing at the entrance now came forward, saying, "This would

not have happened if you had taken good advice."  Upon my

stating to him the unreasonableness of expecting that I would

risk horses in a place where they would probably be stolen

before the morning, he replied, "True, true, you have perhaps

done right."  He then refastened his macho, adding for

additional security a piece of whipcord, which he said rendered

escape impossible.



After supper I roamed about the village.  I addressed two

or three labourers whom I found standing at their doors; they

appeared, however, exceedingly reserved, and with a gruff

"BUENAS NOCHES" turned into their houses without inviting me to

enter.  I at last found my way to the church porch, where I

continued some time in meditation.  At last I bethought myself

of retiring to rest; before departing, however, I took out and

affixed to the porch of the church an advertisement to the

effect that the New Testament was to be purchased at Salamanca.

On returning to the house, I found the two travelling merchants

enjoying profound slumber on various mantas or mule-cloths

stretched on the floor.  "You are a French merchant, I suppose,

Caballero," said a man, who it seemed was the master of the

house, and whom I had not before seen.  "You are a French

merchant, I suppose, and are on the way to the fair of Medina."

"I am neither Frenchman nor merchant," I replied, "and though I

purpose passing through Medina, it is not with the view of

attending the fair."  "Then you are one of the Irish Christians

from Salamanca, Caballero," said the man; "I hear you come from

that town."  "Why do you call them IRISH CHRISTIANS?" I

replied.  "Are there pagans in their country?"  "We call them

Christians," said the man, "to distinguish them from the Irish

English, who are worse than pagans, who are Jews and heretics."

I made no answer, but passed on to the room which had been

prepared for me, and from which, the door being ajar, I heard

the following conversation passing between the innkeeper and

his wife:-



INNKEEPER. - Muger, it appears to me that we have evil

guests in the house.



WIFE. - You mean the last comers, the Caballero and his

servant.  Yes, I never saw worse countenances in my life.



INNKEEPER. - I do not like the servant, and still less

the master.  He has neither formality nor politeness: he tells

me that he is not French, and when I spoke to him of the Irish

Christians, he did not seem to belong to them.  I more than

suspect that he is a heretic or a Jew at least.



WIFE. - Perhaps they are both.  Maria Santissima! what

shall we do to purify the house when they are gone?



INNKEEPER. - O, as for that matter, we must of course

charge it in the cuenta.



I slept soundly, and rather late in the morning arose and

breakfasted, and paid the bill, in which, by its extravagance,

I found the purification had not been forgotten.  The

travelling merchants had departed at daybreak.  We now led

forth the horses, and mounted; there were several people at the

door staring at us.  "What is the meaning of this?" said I to

Antonio.



"It is whispered that we are no Christians," said

Antonio; "they have come to cross themselves at our departure."



In effect, the moment that we rode forward a dozen hands

at least were busied in this evil-averting ceremony.  Antonio

instantly turned and crossed himself in the Greek fashion, -

much more complex and difficult than the Catholic.



"MIRAD QUE SANTIGUO! QUE SANTIGUO DE LOS DEMONIOS!" *

exclaimed many voices, whilst for fear of consequences we

hastened away.



* "See the crossing! see what devilish crossing!"



The day was exceedingly hot, and we wended our way slowly

along the plains of Old Castile.  With all that pertains to

Spain, vastness and sublimity are associated: grand are its

mountains, and no less grand are its plains, which seem of

boundless extent, but which are not tame unbroken flats, like

the steppes of Russia.  Rough and uneven ground is continually

occurring: here a deep ravine and gully worn by the wintry

torrent; yonder an eminence not unfrequently craggy and savage,

at whose top appears the lone solitary village.  There is

little that is blithesome and cheerful, but much that is

melancholy.  A few solitary rustics are occasionally seen

toiling in the fields - fields without limit or boundary, where

the green oak, the elm or the ash are unknown; where only the

sad and desolate pine displays its pyramid-like form, and where

no grass is to be found.  And who are the travellers of these

districts?  For the most part arrieros, with their long trains

of mules hung with monotonous tinkling bells.  Behold them with

their brown faces, brown dresses, and broad slouched hats; -

the arrieros, the true lords of the roads of Spain, and to whom

more respect is paid in these dusty ways than to dukes and

condes; - the arrieros, sullen, proud, and rarely courteous,

whose deep voices may be sometimes heard at the distance of a

mile, either cheering the sluggish animals, or shortening the

dreary way with savage and dissonant songs.



Late in the afternoon, we reached Medina del Campo,

formerly one of the principal cities of Spain, though at

present an inconsiderable place.  Immense ruins surround it in

every direction, attesting the former grandeur of this "city of

the plain."  The great square or market-place is a remarkable

spot, surrounded by a heavy massive piazza, over which rise

black buildings of great antiquity.  We found the town crowded

with people awaiting the fair, which was to be held in a day or

two.  We experienced some difficulty in obtaining admission

into the posada, which was chiefly occupied by Catalans from

Valladolid.  These people not only brought with them their

merchandise but their wives and children.  Some of them

appeared to be people of the worst description: there was one

in particular, a burly savage-looking fellow, of about forty,

whose conduct was atrocious; he sat with his wife, or perhaps

concubine, at the door of a room which opened upon the court:

he was continually venting horrible and obscene oaths, both in

Spanish and Catalan.  The woman was remarkably handsome, but

robust and seemingly as savage as himself; her conversation

likewise was as frightful as his own.  Both seemed to be under

the influence of an incomprehensible fury.  At last, upon some

observation from the woman, he started up, and drawing a long

knife from his girdle, stabbed at her naked bosom; she,

however, interposed the palm of her hand, which was much cut.

He stood for a moment viewing the blood trickling upon the

ground, whilst she held up her wounded hand, then with an

astounding oath he hurried up the court to the Plaza.  I went

up to the woman and said, "What is the cause of this?  I hope

the ruffian has not seriously injured you."  She turned her

countenance upon me with the glance of a demon, and at last

with a sneer of contempt exclaimed, "CARALS, QUE ES ESO?

Cannot a Catalan gentleman be conversing with his lady upon

their own private affairs without being interrupted by you?"

She then bound up her hand with a handkerchief, and going into

the room brought a small table to the door, on which she placed

several things as if for the evening's repast, and then sat

down on a stool: presently returned the Catalan, and without a

word took his seat on the threshold; then, as if nothing had

occurred, the extraordinary couple commenced eating and

drinking, interlarding their meal with oaths and jests.



We spent the night at Medina, and departing early next

morning, passed through much the same country as the day

before, until about noon we reached a small venta, distant half

a league from the Duero; here we reposed ourselves during the

heat of the day, and then remounting, crossed the river by a

handsome stone bridge, and directed our course to Valladolid.

The banks of the Duero in this place have much beauty: they

abound with trees and brushwood, amongst which, as we passed

along, various birds were singing melodiously.  A delicious

coolness proceeded from the water, which in some parts brawled

over stones or rippled fleetly over white sand, and in others

glided softly over blue pools of considerable depth.  By the

side of one of these last, sat a woman of about thirty, neatly

dressed as a peasant; she was gazing upon the water into which

she occasionally flung flowers and twigs of trees.  I stopped

for a moment to ask a question; she, however, neither looked up

nor answered, but continued gazing at the water as if lost to

consciousness of all beside.  "Who is that woman?" said I to a

shepherd, whom I met the moment after.  "She is mad, LA

POBRECITA," said he; "she lost her child about a month ago in

that pool, and she has been mad ever since; they are going to

send her to Valladolid, to the Casa de los Locos.  There are

many who perish every year in the eddies of the Duero; it is a

bad river; VAYA USTED CON LA VIRGEN, CABALLERO."  So I rode on

through the pinares, or thin scanty pine forests, which skirt

the way to Valladolid in this direction.



Valladolid is seated in the midst of an immense valley,

or rather hollow which seems to have been scooped by some

mighty convulsion out of the plain ground of Castile.  The

eminences which appear in the neighbourhood are not properly

high grounds, but are rather the sides of this hollow.  They

are jagged and precipitous, and exhibit a strange and uncouth

appearance.  Volcanic force seems at some distant period to

have been busy in these districts.  Valladolid abounds with

convents, at present deserted, which afford some of the finest

specimens of architecture in Spain.  The principal church,

though rather ancient, is unfinished: it was intended to be a

building of vast size, but the means of the founders were

insufficient to carry out their plan: it is built of rough

granite.  Valladolid is a manufacturing town, but the commerce

is chiefly in the hands of the Catalans, of whom there is a

colony of nearly three hundred established here.  It possesses

a beautiful alameda, or public walk, through which flows the

river Escurva.  The population is said to amount to sixty

thousand souls.



We put up at the Posada de las Diligencias, a very

magnificent edifice: this posada, however, we were glad to quit

on the second day after our arrival, the accommodation being of

the most wretched description, and the incivility of the people

great; the master of the house, an immense tall fellow, with

huge moustaches and an assumed military air, being far too high

a cavalier to attend to the wants of his guests, with whom, it

is true, he did not appear to be overburdened, as I saw no one

but Antonio and myself.  He was a leading man amongst the

national guards of Valladolid, and delighted in parading about

the city on a clumsy steed, which he kept in a subterranean

stable.



Our next quarters were at the Trojan Horse, an ancient

posada, kept by a native of the Basque provinces, who at least

was not above his business.  We found everything in confusion

at Valladolid, a visit from the factious being speedily

expected.  All the gates were blockaded, and various forts had

been built to cover the approaches to the city.  Shortly after

our departure the Carlists actually did arrive, under the

command of the Biscayan chief, Zariategui.  They experienced no

opposition; the staunchest nationals retiring to the principal

fort, which they, however, speedily surrendered, not a gun

being fired throughout the affair.  As for my friend the hero

of the inn, on the first rumour of the approach of the enemy,

he mounted his horse and rode off, and was never subsequently

heard of.  On our return to Valladolid, we found the inn in

other and better hands, those of a Frenchman from Bayonne, from

whom we received as much civility as we had experienced

rudeness from his predecessor.



In a few days I formed the acquaintance of the book-

seller of the place, a kind-hearted simple man, who willingly

undertook the charge of vending the Testaments which I brought.



I found literature of every description at the lowest ebb

at Valladolid.  My newly-acquired friend merely carried on

bookselling in connexion with other business; it being, as he

assured me, in itself quite insufficient to afford him a

livelihood.  During the week, however, that I continued in this

city, a considerable number of copies were disposed of, and a

fair prospect opened that many more would be demanded.  To call

attention to my books, I had recourse to the same plan which I

had adopted at Salamanca, the affixing of advertisements to the

walls.  Before leaving the city, I gave orders that these

should be renewed every week; from pursuing which course I

expected that much manifold good would accrue, as the people

would have continual opportunities of learning that a book

which contains the living word was in existence, and within

their reach, which might induce them to secure it and consult

it even unto salvation.



In Valladolid I found both an English and Scotch College.

From my obliging friends, the Irish at Salamanca, I bore a

letter of introduction to the rector of the latter.  I found

this college an old gloomy edifice, situated in a retired

street.  The rector was dressed in the habiliments of a Spanish

ecclesiastic, a character which he was evidently ambitious of

assuming.  There was something dry and cold in his manner, and

nothing of that generous warmth and eager hospitality which had

so captivated me in the fine Irish rector of Salamanca; he was,

however, civil and polite, and offered to show me the

curiosities of the place.  He evidently knew who I was, and on

that account was, perhaps, more reserved than he otherwise

would have been: not a word passed between us on religious

matters, which we seemed to avoid by common consent.  Under the

auspices of this gentleman, I visited the college of the

Philippine Missions, which stands beyond the gate of the city,

where I was introduced to the superior, a fine old man of

seventy, very stout, in the habiliments of a friar.  There was

an air of placid benignity on his countenance which highly

interested me: his words were few and simple, and he seemed to

have bid adieu to all worldly passions.  One little weakness

was, however, still clinging to him.



MYSELF. - This is a noble edifice in which you dwell,

Father; I should think it would contain at least two hundred

students.



RECTOR. - More, my son; it is intended for more hundreds

than it now contains single individuals.



MYSELF. - I observe that some rude attempts have been

made to fortify it; the walls are pierced with loopholes in

every direction.



RECTOR. - The nationals of Valladolid visited us a few

days ago, and committed much useless damage; they were rather

rude, and threatened me with their clubs: poor men, poor men.



MYSELF. - I suppose that even these missions, which are

certainly intended for a noble end, experience the sad effects

of the present convulsed state of Spain?



RECTOR. - But too true: we at present receive no

assistance from the government, and are left to the Lord and

ourselves.



MYSELF. - How many aspirants for the mission are you at

present instructing?



RECTOR. - Not one, my son; not one.  They are all fled.

The flock is scattered and the shepherd left alone.



MYSELF. - Your reverence has doubtless taken an active

part in the mission abroad?



RECTOR. - I was forty years in the Philippines, my son,

forty years amongst the Indians.  Ah me! how I love those

Indians of the Philippines.



MYSELF. - Can your reverence discourse in the language of

the Indians?



RECTOR. - No, my son.  We teach the Indians Castilian.

There is no better language, I believe.  We teach them

Castilian, and the adoration of the Virgin.  What more need

they know?



MYSELF. - And what did your reverence think of the

Philippines as a country?



RECTOR. - I was forty years in the Philippines, but I

know little of the country.  I do not like the country.  I love

the Indians.  The country is not very bad; it is, however, not

worth Castile.



MYSELF. - Is your reverence a Castilian?



RECTOR. - I am an OLD Castilian, my son.



From the house of the Philippine Missions my friend

conducted me to the English college; this establishment seemed

in every respect to be on a more magnificent scale than its

Scottish sister.  In the latter there were few pupils, scarcely

six or seven, I believe, whilst in the English seminary I was

informed that between thirty and forty were receiving their

education.  It is a beautiful building, with a small but

splendid church, and a handsome library.  The situation is

light and airy: it stands by itself in an unfrequented part of

the city, and, with genuine English exclusiveness, is

surrounded by a high wall, which encloses a delicious garden.

This is by far the most remarkable establishment of the kind in

the Peninsula, and I believe the most prosperous.  From the

cursory view which I enjoyed of its interior, I of course

cannot be expected to know much of its economy.  I could not,

however, fall to be struck with the order, neatness, and system

which pervaded it.  There was, however, an air of severe

monastic discipline, though I am far from asserting that such

actually existed.  We were attended throughout by the sub-

rector, the principal being absent.  Of all the curiosities of

this college, the most remarkable is the picture gallery, which

contains neither more nor less than the portraits of a variety

of scholars of this house who eventually suffered martyrdom in

England, in the exercise of their vocation in the angry times

of the Sixth Edward and fierce Elizabeth.  Yes, in this very

house were many of those pale smiling half-foreign priests

educated, who, like stealthy grimalkins, traversed green

England in all directions; crept into old halls beneath

umbrageous rookeries, fanning the dying embers of Popery, with

no other hope nor perhaps wish than to perish disembowelled by

the bloody hands of the executioner, amongst the yells of a

rabble as bigoted as themselves: priests like Bedingfield and

Garnet, and many others who have left a name in English story.

Doubtless many a history, only the more wonderful for being

true, could be wrought out of the archives of the English

Popish seminary at Valladolid.



There was no lack of guests at the Trojan Horse, where we

had taken up our abode at Valladolid.  Amongst others who

arrived during my sojourn was a robust buxom dame, exceedingly

well dressed in black silk, with a costly mantilla.  She was

accompanied by a very handsome, but sullen and malicious-

looking urchin of about fifteen, who appeared to be her son.

She came from Toro, a place about a day's journey from

Valladolid, and celebrated for its wine.  One night, as we were

seated in the court of the inn enjoying the fresco, the

following conversation ensued between us.



LADY. - Vaya, vaya, what a tiresome place is Valladolid!

How different from Toro.



MYSELF. - I should have thought that it is at least as

agreeable as Toro, which is not a third part so large.



LADY. - As agreeable as Toro!  Vaya, vaya!  Were you ever

in the prison of Toro, Sir Cavalier?



MYSELF. - I have never had that honour; the prison is

generally the last place which I think of visiting.



LADY. - See the difference of tastes: I have been to see

the prison of Valladolid, and it seems as tiresome as the town.



MYSELF. - Of course, if grief and tediousness exist

anywhere, you will find them in the prison.



LADY. - Not in that of Toro.



MYSELF. - What does that of Toro possess to distinguish

it from all others?



LADY. - What does it possess?  Vaya!  Am I not the

carcelera?  Is not my husband the alcayde?  Is not that son of

mine a child of the prison?



MYSELF. - I beg your pardon, I was not aware of that

circumstance; it of course makes much difference.



LADY. - I believe you.  I am a daughter of that prison,

my father was alcayde, and my son might hope to be so, were he

not a fool.



MYSELF. - His countenance then belies him strangely: I

should be loth to purchase that youngster for a fool.



GAOLERESS. - You would have a fine bargain if you did; he

has more picardias than any Calabozero in Toro.  What I mean

is, that he does not take to the prison as he ought to do,

considering what his fathers were before him.  He has too much

pride - too many fancies; and he has at length persuaded me to

bring him to Valladolid, where I have arranged with a merchant

who lives in the Plaza to take him on trial.  I wish he may not

find his way to the prison: if he do, he will find that being a

prisoner is a very different thing from being a son of the

prison.



MYSELF. - As there is so much merriment at Toro, you of

course attend to the comfort of your prisoners.



GAOLERESS. - Yes, we are very kind to them; I mean to

those who are caballeros; but as for those with vermin and

miseria, what can we do?  It is a merry prison that of Toro; we

allow as much wine to enter as the prisoners can purchase and

pay duty for.  This of Valladolid is not half so gay: there is

no prison like Toro.  I learned there to play on the guitar.

An Andalusian cavalier taught me to touch the guitar and to

sing a la Gitana.  Poor fellow, he was my first novio.

Juanito, bring me the guitar, that I may play this gentleman a

tune of Andalusia.



The carcelera had a fine voice, and touched the favourite

instrument of the Spaniards in a truly masterly manner.  I

remained listening to her performance for nearly an hour, when

I retired to my apartment and my repose.  I believe that she

continued playing and singing during the greater part of the

night, for as I occasionally awoke I could still hear her; and,

even in my slumbers, the strings were ringing in my ears.







CHAPTER XXII







Duenas - Children of Egypt - Jockeyism - The Baggage Pony -

The Fall - Palencia - Carlist Priests - The Lookout -

Priestly Sincerity - Leon - Antonio alarmed - Heat and Dust.





After a sojourn of about ten days at Valladolid, we

directed our course towards Leon.  We arrived about noon at

Duenas, a town at the distance of six short leagues from

Valladolid.  It is in every respect a singular place: it stands

on a rising ground, and directly above it towers a steep

conical mountain of calcareous earth, crowned by a ruined

castle.  Around Duenas are seen a multitude of caves scooped in

the high banks and secured with strong doors.  These are

cellars, in which is deposited the wine, of which abundance is

grown in the neighbourhood, and which is chiefly sold to the

Navarrese and the mountaineers of Santander, who arrive in cars

drawn by oxen, and convey it away in large quantities.  We put

up at a mean posada in the suburb for the purpose of refreshing

our horses.  Several cavalry soldiers were quartered there, who

instantly came forth, and began, with the eyes of connoisseurs,

to inspect my Andalusian entero.  "A capital horse that would

be for our troop," said the corporal; "what a chest he has.  By

what right do you travel with that horse, Senor, when so many

are wanted for the Queen's service?  He belongs to the

requiso."  "I travel with him by right of purchase, and being

an Englishman," I replied.  "Oh, your worship is an

Englishman," answered the corporal; "that, indeed, alters the

matter; the English in Spain are allowed to do what they please

with their own, which is more than the Spaniards are.

Cavalier, I have seen your countrymen in the Basque provinces;

Vaya, what riders! what horses!  They do not fight badly

either.  But their chief skill is in riding: I have seen them

dash over barrancos to get at the factious, who thought

themselves quite secure, and then they would fall upon them on

a sudden and kill them to a man.  In truth, your worship, this

is a fine horse, I must look at his teeth."



I looked at the corporal - his nose and eyes were in the

horse's mouth: the rest of the party, who might amount to six

or seven, were not less busily engaged.  One was examining his

forefeet, another his hind; one fellow was pulling at his tail

with all his might, while another pinched the windpipe, for the

purpose of discovering whether the animal was at all touched

there.  At last perceiving that the corporal was about to

remove the saddle that he might examine the back of the animal,

I exclaimed:-



"Stay, ye chabes of Egypt, ye forget that ye are

hundunares, and are no longer paruguing grastes in the chardy."



The corporal at these words turned his face full upon me,

and so did all the rest.  Yes, sure enough, there were the

countenances of Egypt, and the fixed filmy stare of eye.  We

continued looking at each other for a minute at least, when the

corporal, a villainous-looking fellow, at last said, in the

richest gypsy whine imaginable, "the erray know us, the poor

Calore!  And he an Englishman!  Bullati!  I should not have

thought that there was e'er a Busno would know us in these

parts, where Gitanos are never seen.  Yes, your worship is

right; we are all here of the blood of the Calore; we are from

Melegrana (Granada), your worship; they took us from thence and

sent us to the wars.  Your worship is right, the sight of that

horse made us believe we were at home again in the mercado of

Granada; he is a countryman of ours, a real Andalou.  Por dios,

your worship, sell us that horse; we are poor Calore, but we

can buy him."



"You forget that you are soldiers," said I.  "How should

you buy my horse?"



"We are soldiers, your worship," said the corporal, "but

we are still Calore; we buy and sell bestis; the captain of our

troop is in league with us.  We have been to the wars, but not

to fight; we left that to the Busne.  We have kept together,

and like true Calore, have stood back to back.  We have made

money in the wars, your worship.  NO TENGA USTED CUIDAO (be

under no apprehension).  We can buy your horse."



Here he pulled out a purse, which contained at least ten

ounces of gold.



"If I were willing to sell," I replied, "what would you

give me for that horse?"



"Then your worship wishes to sell your horse - that

alters the matter.  We will give ten dollars for your worship's

horse.  He is good for nothing."



"How is this?" said I.  "You this moment told me he was a

fine horse - an Andalusian, and a countryman of yours."



"No, Senor! we did not say that he was an Andalou.  We

said he was an Estremou, and the worst of his kind.  He is

eighteen years old, your worship, short-winded and galled."



"I do not wish to sell my horse," said I; "quite the

contrary; I had rather buy than sell."



"Your worship does not wish to sell your horse," said the

Gypsy.  "Stay, your worship, we will give sixty dollars for

your worship's horse."



"I would not sell him for two hundred and sixty.  Meclis!

Meclis! say no more.  I know your Gypsy tricks.  I will have no

dealings with you."



"Did I not hear your worship say that you wished to buy a

horse?" said the Gypsy.



"I do not want to buy a horse," said I; "if I need any

thing, it is a pony to carry our baggage; but it is getting

late.  Antonio, pay the reckoning."



"Stay, your worship, do not be in a hurry," said the

Gypsy: "I have got the very pony which will suit you."



Without waiting for my answer, he hurried into the

stable, from whence he presently returned, leading an animal by

a halter.  It was a pony of about thirteen hands high, of a

dark red colour; it was very much galled all over, the marks of

ropes and thongs being visible on its hide.  The figure,

however, was good, and there was an extraordinary brightness in

its eye.



"There, your worship," said the Gypsy; "there is the best

pony in all Spain."



"What do you mean by showing me this wretched creature?"

said I.



"This wretched creature," said the Gypsy, "is a better

horse than your Andalou!"



"Perhaps you would not exchange," said I, smiling.



"Senor, what I say is, that he shall run with your

Andalou, and beat him!"



"He looks feeble," said I; "his work is well nigh done."



"Feeble as he is, Senor, you could not manage him; no,

nor any Englishman in Spain."



I looked at the creature again, and was still more struck

with its figure.  I was in need of a pony to relieve

occasionally the horse of Antonio in carrying the baggage which

we had brought from Madrid, and though the condition of this

was wretched, I thought that by kind treatment I might possibly

soon bring him round.



"May I mount this animal?" I demanded.



"He is a baggage pony, Senor, and is ill to mount.  He

will suffer none but myself to mount him, who am his master.

When he once commences running, nothing will stop him but the

sea.  He springs over hills and mountains, and leaves them

behind in a moment.  If you will mount him, Senor, suffer me to

fetch a bridle, for you can never hold him in with the halter."



"This is nonsense," said I.  "You pretend that he is

spirited in order to enhance the price.  I tell you his work is

done."



I took the halter in my hand and mounted.  I was no

sooner on his back than the creature, who had before stood

stone still, without displaying the slightest inclination to

move, and who in fact gave no farther indication of existence

than occasionally rolling his eyes and pricking up an ear,

sprang forward like a racehorse, at a most desperate gallop.  I

had expected that he might kick or fling himself down on the

ground, in order to get rid of his burden, but for this

escapade I was quite unprepared.  I had no difficulty, however,

in keeping on his back, having been accustomed from my

childhood to ride without a saddle.  To stop him, however,

baffled all my endeavours, and I almost began to pay credit to

the words of the Gypsy, who had said that he would run on until

he reached the sea.  I had, however, a strong arm, and I tugged

at the halter until I compelled him to turn slightly his neck,

which from its stiffness might almost have been of wood; he,

however, did not abate his speed for a moment.  On the left

side of the road down which he was dashing was a deep trench,

just where the road took a turn towards the right, and over

this he sprang in a sideward direction; the halter broke with

the effort, the pony shot forward like an arrow, whilst I fell

back into the dust.



"Senor!" said the Gypsy, coming up with the most serious

countenance in the world, "I told you not to mount that animal

unless well bridled and bitted.  He is a baggage pony, and will

suffer none to mount his back, with the exception of myself who

feed him."  (Here he whistled, and the animal, who was scurring

over the field, and occasionally kicking up his heels,

instantly returned with a gentle neigh.)  "Now, your worship,

see how gentle he is.  He is a capital baggage pony, and will

carry all you have over the hills of Galicia."



"What do you ask for him?" said I.



"Senor, as your worship is an Englishman, and a good

ginete, and, moreover, understands the ways of the Calore, and

their tricks and their language also, I will sell him to you a

bargain.  I will take two hundred and sixty dollars for him and

no less."



"That is a large sum," said I.



"No, Senor, not at all, considering that he is a baggage

pony, and belongs to the troop, and is not mine to sell."



Two hours' ride brought us to Palencia, a fine old town,

beautifully situated on the Carrion, and famous for its trade

in wool.  We put up at the best posada which the place

afforded, and I forthwith proceeded to visit one of the

principal merchants of the town, to whom I was recommended by

my banker in Madrid.  I was told, however, that he was taking

his siesta.  "Then I had better take my own," said I, and

returned to the posada.  In the evening I went again, when I

saw him.  He was a short bulky man about thirty, and received

me at first with some degree of bluntness; his manner, however,

presently became more kind, and at last he scarcely appeared to

know how to show me sufficient civility.  His brother had just

arrived from Santander, and to him he introduced me.  This last

was a highly-intelligent person, and had passed many years of

his life in England.  They both insisted upon showing me the

town, and, indeed, led me all over it, and about the

neighbourhood.  I particularly admired the cathedral, a light,

elegant, but ancient Gothic edifice.  Whilst we walked about

the aisles, the evening sun, pouring its mellow rays through

the arched windows, illumined some beautifu