The Bible in Spain

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On descending the eminence, we roamed about for a considerable
time, until we at last found ourselves in the midst of about six or
eight black huts. "Knock at the door of one of these," said I to
the guide, "and inquire of the people whether they can shelter us
for the night." He did so, and a man presently made his
appearance, bearing in his hand a lighted firebrand.

"Can you shelter a Cavalheiro from the night and the Estadea?" said
my guide.

"From both, I thank God," said the man, who was an athletic figure,
without shoes and stockings, and who, upon the whole, put me much
in mind of a Munster peasant from the bogs. "Pray enter,
gentlemen, we can accommodate you both and your cavalgadura
besides."

We entered the choza, which consisted of three compartments; in the
first we found straw, in the second cattle and ponies, and in the
third the family, consisting of the father and mother of the man
who admitted us, and his wife and children.

"You are a Catalan, sir Cavalier, and are going to your countryman
at Corcuvion," said the man in tolerable Spanish. "Ah, you are
brave people, you Catalans, and fine establishments you have on the
Gallegan shores; pity that you take all the money out of the
country."

Now, under all circumstances, I had not the slightest objection to
pass for a Catalan; and I rather rejoiced that these wild people
should suppose that I had powerful friends and countrymen in the
neighbourhood who were, perhaps, expecting me. I therefore
favoured their mistake, and began with a harsh Catalan accent to
talk of the fish of Galicia, and the high duties on salt. The eye
of my guide was upon me for an instant, with a singular expression,
half serious, half droll; he however said nothing, but slapped his
thigh as usual, and with a spring nearly touched the roof of the
cabin with his grotesque head. Upon inquiry, I discovered that we
were still two long leagues distant from Corcuvion, and that the
road lay over moor and hill, and was hard to find. Our host now
demanded whether we were hungry, and upon being answered in the
affirmative, produced about a dozen eggs and some bacon. Whilst
our supper was cooking, a long conversation ensued between my guide
and the family, but as it was carried on in Gallegan, I tried in
vain to understand it. I believe, however, that it principally
related to witches and witchcraft, as the Estadea was frequently
mentioned. After supper I demanded where I could rest: whereupon
the host pointed to a trap-door in the roof, saying that above
there was a loft where I could sleep by myself, and have clean
straw. For curiosity's sake, I asked whether there was such a
thing as a bed in the cabin.

"No," replied the man; "nor nearer than Corcuvion. I never entered
one in my life, nor any one of my family: we sleep around the
hearth, or among the straw with the cattle."

I was too old a traveller to complain, but forthwith ascended by a
ladder into a species of loft, tolerably large and nearly empty,
where I placed my cloak beneath my head, and lay down on the
boards, which I preferred to the straw, for more reasons than one.
I heard the people below talking in Gallegan for a considerable
time, and could see the gleams of the fire through the interstices
of the floor. The voices, however, gradually died away, the fire
sank low and could no longer be distinguished. I dozed, started,
dozed again, and dropped finally into a profound sleep, from which
I was only roused by the crowing of the second cock.

CHAPTER XXX

Autumnal Morning--The World's End--Corcuvion--Duyo--The Cape--A
Whale--The Outer Bay--The Arrest--The Fisher-Magistrate--Calros
Rey--Hard of Belief--Where is your Passport?--The Beach--A Mighty
Liberal--The Handmaid--The Grand Baintham--Eccentric Book--
Hospitality.

It was a beautiful autumnal morning when we left the choza and
pursued our way to Corcuvion. I satisfied our host by presenting
him with a couple of pesetas, and he requested as a favour, that if
on our return we passed that way, and were overtaken by the night,
we would again take up our abode beneath his roof. This I
promised, at the same time determining to do my best to guard
against the contingency; as sleeping in the loft of a Gallegan hut,
though preferable to passing the night on a moor or mountain, is
anything but desirable.

So we again started at a rapid pace along rough bridle-ways and
footpaths, amidst furze and brushwood. In about an hour we
obtained a view of the sea, and directed by a lad, whom we found on
the moor employed in tending a few miserable sheep, we bent our
course to the north-west, and at length reached the brow of an
eminence, where we stopped for some time to survey the prospect
which opened before us.

It was not without reason that the Latins gave the name of
Finnisterrae to this district. We had arrived exactly at such a
place as in my boyhood I had pictured to myself as the termination
of the world, beyond which there was a wild sea, or abyss, or
chaos. I now saw far before me an immense ocean, and below me a
long and irregular line of lofty and precipitous coast. Certainly
in the whole world there is no bolder coast than the Gallegan
shore, from the debouchement of the Minho to Cape Finisterra. It
consists of a granite wall of savage mountains, for the most part
serrated at the top, and occasionally broken, where bays and firths
like those of Vigo and Pontevedra intervene, running deep into the
land. These bays and firths are invariably of an immense depth,
and sufficiently capacious to shelter the navies of the proudest
maritime nations.

There is an air of stern and savage grandeur in everything around,
which strongly captivates the imagination. This savage coast is
the first glimpse of Spain which the voyager from the north
catches, or he who has ploughed his way across the wide Atlantic:
and well does it seem to realize all his visions of this strange
land. "Yes," he exclaims, "this is indeed Spain--stern flinty
Spain--land emblematic of those spirits to which she has given
birth. From what land but that before me could have proceeded
those portentous beings, who astounded the Old World and filled the
New with horror and blood: Alba and Philip, Cortez and Pizarro:
stern colossal spectres looming through the gloom of bygone years,
like yonder granite mountains through the haze, upon the eye of the
mariner. Yes, yonder is indeed Spain; flinty, indomitable Spain;
land emblematic of its sons!"

As for myself, when I viewed that wide ocean and its savage shore,
I cried, "Such is the grave, and such are its terrific sides; those
moors and wilds, over which I have passed, are the rough and dreary
journey of life. Cheered with hope, we struggle along through all
the difficulties of moor, bog, and mountain, to arrive at--what?
The grave and its dreary sides. Oh, may hope not desert us in the
last hour: hope in the Redeemer and in God!"

We descended from the eminence, and again lost sight of the sea
amidst ravines and dingles, amongst which patches of pine were
occasionally seen. Continuing to descend, we at last came, not to
the sea, but to the extremity of a long narrow firth, where stood a
village or hamlet; whilst at a small distance, on the Western side
of the firth, appeared one considerably larger, which was indeed
almost entitled to the appellation of town. This last was
Corcuvion; the first, if I forget not, was called Ria de Silla. We
hastened on to Corcuvion, where I bade my guide make inquiries
respecting Finisterra. He entered the door of a wine-house, from
which proceeded much noise and vociferation, and presently
returned, informing me that the village of Finisterra was distant
about a league and a half. A man, evidently in a state of
intoxication, followed him to the door: "Are you bound for
Finisterra, Cavalheiros?" he shouted.

"Yes, my friend," I replied, "we are going thither."

"Then you are going amongst a flock of drunkards (fato de
barrachos)," he answered. "Take care that they do not play you a
trick."

We passed on, and striking across a sandy peninsula at the back of
the town, soon reached the shore of an immense bay, the north-
westernmost end of which was formed by the far-famed cape of
Finisterra, which we now saw before us stretching far into the sea.

Along a beach of dazzling white sand, we advanced towards the cape,
the bourne of our journey. The sun was shining brightly, and every
object was illumined by his beams. The sea lay before us like a
vast mirror, and the waves which broke upon the shore were so tiny
as scarcely to produce a murmur. On we sped along the deep winding
bay, overhung by gigantic hills and mountains. Strange
recollections began to throng upon my mind. It was upon this beach
that, according to the tradition of all ancient Christendom, Saint
James, the patron saint of Spain, preached the Gospel to the
heathen Spaniards. Upon this beach had once stood an immense
commercial city, the proudest in all Spain. This now desolate bay
had once resounded with the voices of myriads, when the keels and
commerce of all the then known world were wafted to Duyo.

"What is the name of this village?" said I to a woman, as we passed
by five or six ruinous houses at the bend of the bay, ere we
entered upon the peninsula of Finisterra.

"This is no village," said the Gallegan, "this is no village, Sir
Cavalier, this is a city, this is Duyo."

So much for the glory of the world! These huts were all that the
roaring sea and the tooth of time had left of Duyo, the great city!
Onward now to Finisterra.

It was midday when we reached the village of Finisterra, consisting
of about one hundred houses, and built on the southern side of the
peninsula, just before it rises into the huge bluff head which is
called the Cape. We sought in vain for an inn or venta, where we
might stable our beast; at one moment we thought that we had found
one, and had even tied the animal to the manger. Upon our going
out, however, he was instantly untied and driven forth into the
street. The few people whom we saw appeared to gaze upon us in a
singular manner. We, however, took little notice of these
circumstances, and proceeded along the straggling street until we
found shelter in the house of a Castilian shopkeeper, whom some
chance had brought to this corner of Galicia,--this end of the
world. Our first care was to feed the animal, who now began to
exhibit considerable symptoms of fatigue. We then requested some
refreshment for ourselves; and in about an hour a tolerably savoury
fish, weighing about three pounds, and fresh from the bay, was
prepared for us by an old woman who appeared to officiate as
housekeeper. Having finished our meal, I and my uncouth companion
went forth and prepared to ascend the mountain.

We stopped to examine a small dismantled fort or battery facing the
bay; and whilst engaged in this examination, it more than once
occurred to me that we were ourselves the objects of scrutiny and
investigation: indeed I caught a glimpse of more than one
countenance peering upon us through the holes and chasms of the
walls. We now commenced ascending Finisterra; and making numerous
and long detours, we wound our way up its flinty sides. The sun
had reached the top of heaven, whence he showered upon us
perpendicularly his brightest and fiercest rays. My boots were
torn, my feet cut, and the perspiration streamed from my brow. To
my guide, however, the ascent appeared to be neither toilsome nor
difficult. The heat of the day for him had no terrors, no moisture
was wrung from his tanned countenance; he drew not one short
breath; and hopped upon the stones and rocks with all the provoking
agility of a mountain goat. Before we had accomplished one half of
the ascent, I felt myself quite exhausted. I reeled and staggered.
"Cheer up, master mine, be of good cheer, and have no care," said
the guide. "Yonder I see a wall of stones; lie down beneath it in
the shade." He put his long and strong arm round my waist, and
though his stature compared with mine was that of a dwarf, he
supported me, as if I had been a child, to a rude wall which seemed
to traverse the greatest part of the hill, and served probably as a
kind of boundary. It was difficult to find a shady spot: at last
he perceived a small chasm, perhaps scooped by some shepherd as a
couch, in which to enjoy his siesta. In this he laid me gently
down, and taking off his enormous hat, commenced farming me with
great assiduity. By degrees I revived, and after having rested for
a considerable time, I again attempted the ascent, which, with the
assistance of my guide, I at length accomplished.

We were now standing at a great altitude between two bays: the
wilderness of waters before us. Of all the ten thousand barks
which annually plough those seas in sight of that old cape, not one
was to be descried. It was a blue shiny waste, broken by no object
save the black head of a spermaceti whale, which would occasionally
show itself at the top, casting up thin jets of brine. The
principal bay, that of Finisterra, as far as the entrance, was
beautifully variegated by an immense shoal of sardinhas, on whose
extreme skirts the monster was probably feasting. From the
northern side of the cape we looked down upon a smaller bay, the
shore of which was overhung by rocks of various and grotesque
shapes; this is called the outer bay, or, in the language of the
country, Praia do mar de fora: a fearful place in seasons of wind
and tempest, when the long swell of the Atlantic pouring in, is
broken into surf and foam by the sunken rocks with which it
abounds. Even in the calmest day there is a rumbling and a hollow
roar in that bay which fill the heart with uneasy sensations.

On all sides there was grandeur and sublimity. After gazing from
the summit of the Cape for nearly an hour we descended.

On reaching the house where we had taken up our temporary
habitation, we perceived that the portal was occupied by several
men, some of whom were reclining on the floor drinking wine out of
small earthen pans, which are much used in this part of Galicia.
With a civil salutation I passed on, and ascended the staircase to
the room in which we had taken our repast. Here there was a rude
and dirty bed, on which I flung myself, exhausted with fatigue. I
determined to take a little repose, and in the evening to call the
people of the place together, to read a few chapters of the
Scripture, and then to address them with a little Christian
exhortation. I was soon asleep, but my slumbers were by no means
tranquil. I thought I was surrounded with difficulties of various
kinds amongst rocks and ravines, vainly endeavouring to extricate
myself; uncouth visages showed themselves amidst the trees and in
the hollows, thrusting out cloven tongues and uttering angry cries.
I looked around for my guide, but could not find him; methought,
however, that I heard his voice down a deep dingle. He appeared to
be talking of me. How long I might have continued in these wild
dreams I know not. I was suddenly, however, seized roughly by the
shoulder and nearly dragged from the bed. I looked up in
amazement, and by the light of the descending sun I beheld hanging
over me a wild and uncouth figure; it was that of an elderly man,
built as strong as a giant, with much beard and whiskers, and huge
bushy eyebrows, dressed in the habiliments of a fisherman; in his
hand was a rusty musket.

Myself.--Who are you and what do you want?

Figure.--Who I am matters but little. Get up and follow me; it is
you I want.

Myself.--By what authority do you thus presume to interfere with
me?

Figure.--By the authority of the justicia of Finisterra. Follow me
peaceably, Calros, or it will be the worse for you.

"Calros," said I, "what does the person mean?" I thought it,
however, most prudent to obey his command, and followed him down
the staircase. The shop and the portal were now thronged with the
inhabitants of Finisterra, men, women, and children; the latter for
the most part in a state of nudity, and with bodies wet and
dripping, having been probably summoned in haste from their gambols
in the brine. Through this crowd the figure whom I have attempted
to describe pushed his way with an air of authority.

On arriving in the street, he laid his heavy hand upon my arm, not
roughly however. "It is Calros! it is Calros!" said a hundred
voices; "he has come to Finisterra at last, and the justicia have
now got hold of him." Wondering what all this could mean, I
attended my strange conductor down the street. As we proceeded,
the crowd increased every moment, following and vociferating. Even
the sick were brought to the door to obtain a view of what was
going forward and a glance at the redoubtable Calros. I was
particularly struck by the eagerness displayed by one man, a
cripple, who, in spite of the entreaties of his wife, mixed with
the crowd, and having lost his crutch, hopped forward on one leg,
exclaiming,--"Carracho! tambien voy yo!"

We at last reached a house of rather larger size than the rest; my
guide having led me into a long low room, placed me in the middle
of the floor, and then hurrying to the door, he endeavoured to
repulse the crowd who strove to enter with us. This he effected,
though not without considerable difficulty, being once or twice
compelled to have recourse to the butt of his musket, to drive back
unauthorized intruders. I now looked round the room. It was
rather scantily furnished: I could see nothing but some tubs and
barrels, the mast of a boat, and a sail or two. Seated upon the
tubs were three or four men coarsely dressed, like fishermen or
shipwrights. The principal personage was a surly ill-tempered-
looking fellow of about thirty-five, whom eventually I discovered
to be the alcalde of Finisterra, and lord of the house in which we
now were. In a corner I caught a glimpse of my guide, who was
evidently in durance, two stout fishermen standing before him, one
with a musket and the other with a boat-hook. After I had looked
about me for a minute, the alcalde, giving his whiskers a twist,
thus addressed me:-

"Who are you, where is your passport, and what brings you to
Finisterra?"

Myself.--I am an Englishman. Here is my passport, and I came to
see Finisterra.

This reply seemed to discomfit them for a moment. They looked at
each other, then at my passport. At length the alcalde, striking
it with his finger, bellowed forth:

"This is no Spanish passport; it appears to be written in French."

Myself.--I have already told you that I am a foreigner. I of
course carry a foreign passport.

Alcalde.--Then you mean to assert that you are not Calros Rey.

Myself.--I never heard before of such a king, nor indeed of such a
name.

Alcalde.--Hark to the fellow: he has the audacity to say that he
has never heard of Calros the pretender, who calls himself king.

Myself.--If you mean by Calros, the pretender Don Carlos, all I can
reply is, that you can scarcely be serious. You might as well
assert that yonder poor fellow, my guide, whom I see you have made
prisoner, is his nephew, the infante Don Sebastian.

Alcalde.--See, you have betrayed yourself; that is the very person
we suppose him to be.

Myself.--It is true that they are both hunchbacks. But how can I
be like Don Carlos? I have nothing the appearance of a Spaniard,
and am nearly a foot taller than the pretender.

Alcalde.--That makes no difference; you of course carry many
waistcoats about you, by means of which you disguise yourself, and
appear tall or low according to your pleasure.

This last was so conclusive an argument that I had of course
nothing to reply to it. The alcalde looked around him in triumph,
as if he had made some notable discovery. "Yes, it is Calros; it
is Calros," said the crowd at the door. "It will be as well to
have these men shot instantly," continued the alcalde; "if they are
not the two pretenders, they are at any rate two of the factious."

"I am by no means certain that they are either one or the other,"
said a gruff voice.

The justicia of Finisterra turned their eyes in the direction from
which these words proceeded, and so did I. Our glances rested upon
the figure who held watch at the door. He had planted the barrel
of his musket on the floor, and was now leaning his chin against
the butt.

"I am by no means certain that they are either one or the other,"
repeated he, advancing forward. "I have been examining this man,"
pointing to myself, "and listening whilst he spoke, and it appears
to me that after all he may prove an Englishman; he has their very
look and voice. Who knows the English better than Antonio de la
Trava, and who has a better right? Has he not sailed in their
ships; has he not eaten their biscuit; and did he not stand by
Nelson when he was shot dead?"

Here the alcalde became violently incensed. "He is no more an
Englishman than yourself," he exclaimed; "if he were an Englishman
would he have come in this manner, skulking across the land? Not
so I trow. He would have come in a ship, recommended to some of
us, or to the Catalans. He would have come to trade, to buy; but
nobody knows him in Finisterra, nor does he know anybody: and the
first thing, moreover, that he does when he reaches this place is
to inspect the fort, and to ascend the mountain where, no doubt, he
has been marking out a camp. What brings him to Finisterra if he
is neither Calros nor a bribon of a faccioso?"

I felt that there was a good deal of justice in some of these
remarks, and I was aware, for the first time, that I had, indeed,
committed a great imprudence in coming to this wild place, and
among these barbarous people, without being able to assign any
motive which could appear at all valid in their eyes. I
endeavoured to convince the alcalde that I had come across the
country for the purpose of making myself acquainted with the many
remarkable objects which it contained, and of obtaining information
respecting the character and condition of the inhabitants. He
could understand no such motives. "What did you ascend the
mountain for?" "To see prospects." "Disparate! I have lived at
Finisterra forty years and never ascended that mountain. I would
not do it in a day like this for two ounces of gold. You went to
take altitudes, and to mark out a camp." I had, however, a staunch
friend in old Antonio, who insisted, from his knowledge of the
English, that all I had said might very possibly be true. "The
English," said he, "have more money than they know what to do with,
and on that account they wander all over the world, paying dearly
for what no other people care a groat for." He then proceeded,
notwithstanding the frowns of the alcalde, to examine me in the
English language. His own entire knowledge of this tongue was
confined to two words--knife and fork, which words I rendered into
Spanish by their equivalents, and was forthwith pronounced an
Englishman by the old fellow, who, brandishing his musket,
exclaimed:-

"This man is not Calros; he is what he declares himself to be, an
Englishman, and whosoever seeks to injure him, shall have to do
with Antonio de la Trava el valiente de Finisterra." No person
sought to impugn this verdict, and it was at length determined that
I should be sent to Corcuvion, to be examined by the alcalde mayor
of the district. "But," said the alcalde of Finisterra, "what is
to be done with the other fellow? He at least is no Englishman.
Bring him forward, and let us hear what he has to say for himself.
Now, fellow, who are you, and what is your master?"

Guide.--I am Sebastianillo, a poor broken mariner of Padron, and my
master for the present is the gentleman whom you see, the most
valiant and wealthy of all the English. He has two ships at Vigo
laden with riches. I told you so when you first seized me up there
in our posada.

Alcalde.--Where is your passport?

Guide.--I have no passport. Who would think of bringing a passport
to such a place as this, where I don't suppose there are two
individuals who can read? I have no passport; my master's passport
of course includes me.

Alcalde.--It does not. And since you have no passport, and have
confessed that your name is Sebastian, you shall be shot. Antonio
de la Trava, do you and the musketeers lead this Sebastianillo
forth, and shoot him before the door.

Antonio de la Trava.--With much pleasure, Senor Alcalde, since you
order it. With respect to this fellow, I shall not trouble myself
to interfere. He at least is no Englishman. He has more the look
of a wizard or nuveiro; one of those devils who raise storms and
sink launches. Moreover, he says he is from Padron, and those of
that place are all thieves and drunkards. They once played me a
trick, and I would gladly be at the shooting of the whole pueblo.

I now interfered, and said that if they shot the guide they must
shoot me too; expatiating at the same time on the cruelty and
barbarity of taking away the life of a poor unfortunate fellow who,
as might be seen at the first glance, was only half witted; adding,
moreover, that if any person was guilty in this case it was myself,
as the other could only be considered in the light of a servant
acting under my orders.