The Bible in Spain

G >> George Borrow >> The Bible in Spain

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49

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, {8} 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."

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 {9} 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.