The Bible in Spain

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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 horseback. 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!' {11}

Those were merry days, Don Jorge. By the by, I forgot to ask your
worship of what opinion you are?"

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.