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

"The safest plan after all," said the alcalde, "appears to be, to
send you both prisoners to Corcuvion, where the head alcalde can
dispose of you as he thinks proper. You must, however, pay for
your escort; for it is not to be supposed that the housekeepers of
Finisterra have nothing else to do than to ramble about the country
with every chance fellow who finds his way to this town." "As for
that matter," said Antonio, "I will take charge of them both. I am
the valiente of Finisterra, and fear no two men living. Moreover,
I am sure that the captain here will make it worth my while, else
he is no Englishman. Therefore let us be quick and set out for
Corcuvion at once, as it is getting late. First of all, however,
captain, I must search you and your baggage. You have no arms, of
course? But it is best to make all sure."

Long ere it was dark I found myself again on the pony, in company
with my guide, wending our way along the beach in the direction of
Corcuvion. Antonio de la Trava tramped heavily on before, his
musket on his shoulder.

Myself.--Are you not afraid, Antonio, to be thus alone with two
prisoners, one of whom is on horseback? If we were to try, I think
we could overpower you.

Antonio de la Trava.--I am the valiente do Finisterra, and I fear
no odds.

Myself.--Why do you call yourself the valiente of Finisterra?

Antonio de la Trava.--The whole district call me so. When the
French came to Finisterra, and demolished the fort, three perished
by my hand. I stood on the mountain, up where I saw you scrambling
to-day. I continued firing at the enemy, until three detached
themselves in pursuit of me. The fools! two perished amongst the
rocks by the fire of this musket, and as for the third, I beat his
head to pieces with the stock. It is on that account that they
call me the valiente of Finisterra.

Myself.--How came you to serve with the English fleet? I think I
heard you say that you were present when Nelson fell.

Antonio de la Trava.--I was captured by your countrymen, captain;
and as I had been a sailor from my childhood, they were glad of my
services. I was nine months with them, and assisted at Trafalgar.
I saw the English admiral die. You have something of his face, and
your voice, when you spoke, sounded in my ears like his own. I
love the English, and on that account I saved you. Think not that
I would toil along these sands with you if you were one of my own
countrymen. Here we are at Duyo, captain. Shall we refresh?

We did refresh, or rather Antonio de la Trava refreshed, swallowing
pan after pan of wine, with a thirst which seemed unquenchable.
"That man was a greater wizard than myself," whispered Sebastian,
my guide, "who told us that the drunkards of Finisterra would play
us a trick." At length the old hero of the Cape slowly rose,
saying, that we must hasten on to Corcuvion, or the night would
overtake us by the way.

"What kind of person is the alcalde to whom you are conducting me?"
said I.

"Oh, very different from him of Finisterra," replied Antonio.
"This is a young Senorito, lately arrived from Madrid. He is not
even a Gallegan. He is a mighty liberal, and it is owing chiefly
to his orders that we have lately been so much on the alert. It is
said that the Carlists are meditating a descent on these parts of
Galicia. Let them only come to Finisterra, we are liberals there
to a man, and the old valiente is ready to play the same part as in
the time of the French. But, as I was telling you before, the
alcalde to whom I am conducting you is a young man, and very
learned, and if he thinks proper, he can speak English to you, even
better than myself, notwithstanding I was a friend of Nelson, and
fought by his side at Trafalgar."

It was dark night before we reached Corcuvion. Antonio again
stopped to refresh at a wine-shop, after which he conducted us to
the house of the alcalde. His steps were by this time not
particularly steady, and on arriving at the gate of the house, he
stumbled over the threshold and fell. He got up with an oath, and
instantly commenced thundering at the door with the stock of his
musket. "Who is it?" at length demanded a soft female voice in
Gallegan. "The valiente of Finisterra," replied Antonio; whereupon
the gate was unlocked, and we beheld before us a very pretty female
with a candle in her hand. "What brings you here so late,
Antonio?" she inquired. "I bring two prisoners, mi pulida,"
replied Antonio. "Ave Maria!" she exclaimed, "I hope they will do
no harm." "I will answer for one," replied the old man; "but, as
for the other, he is a nuveiro, and has sunk more ships than all
his brethren in Galicia. But be not afraid, my beauty," he
continued, as the female made the sign of the cross: "first lock
the gate, and then show me the way to the alcalde. I have much to
tell him." The gate was locked, and bidding us stay below in the
courtyard, Antonio followed the young woman up a stone stair,
whilst we remained in darkness below.

After the lapse of about a quarter of an hour we again saw the
candle gleam upon the staircase, and the young female appeared.
Coming up to me, she advanced the candle to my features, on which
she gazed very intently. After a long scrutiny she went to my
guide, and having surveyed him still more fixedly, she turned to
me, and said, in her best Spanish, "Senhor Cavalier, I congratulate
you on your servant. He is the best-looking mozo in all Galicia.
Vaya! if he had but a coat to his back, and did not go barefoot, I
would accept him at once as a novio; but I have unfortunately made
a vow never to marry a poor man, but only one who has got a heavy
purse and can buy me fine clothes. So you are a Carlist, I
suppose? Vaya! I do not like you the worse for that. But, being
so, how went you to Finisterra, where they are all Christinos and
negros? Why did you not go to my village? None would have meddled
with you there. Those of my village are of a different stamp to
the drunkards of Finisterra. Those of my village never interfere
with honest people. Vaya! how I hate that drunkard of Finisterra
who brought you, he is so old and ugly; were it not for the love
which I bear to the Senhor Alcalde, I would at once unlock the gate
and bid you go forth, you and your servant, the buen mozo."

Antonio now descended. "Follow me," said he; "his worship the
alcalde will be ready to receive you in a moment." Sebastian and
myself followed him upstairs to a room where, seated behind a
table, we beheld a young man of low stature but handsome features
and very fashionably dressed. He appeared to be inditing a letter,
which, when he had concluded, he delivered to a secretary to be
transcribed. He then looked at me for a moment fixedly, and the
following conversation ensued between us:-

Alcalde.--I see that you are an Englishman, and my friend Antonio
here informs me that you have been arrested at Finisterra.

Myself.--He tells you true; and but for him I believe that I should
have fallen by the hands of those savage fishermen.

Alcalde.--The inhabitants of Finisterra are brave, and are all
liberals. Allow me to look at your passport? Yes, all in form.
Truly it was very ridiculous that they should have arrested you as
a Carlist.

Myself.--Not only as a Carlist, but as Don Carlos himself.

Alcalde.--Oh! most ridiculous; mistake a countryman of the grand
Baintham for such a Goth!

Myself.--Excuse me, Sir, you speak of the grand somebody.

Alcalde.--The grand Baintham. He who has invented laws for all the
world. I hope shortly to see them adopted in this unhappy country
of ours.

Myself.--Oh! you mean Jeremy Bentham. Yes! a very remarkable man
in his way.

Alcalde.--In his way! In all ways. The most universal genius
which the world ever produced:- a Solon, a Plato, and a Lope de
Vega.

Myself.--I have never read his writings. I have no doubt that he
was a Solon; and as you say, a Plato. I should scarcely have
thought, however, that he could be ranked as a poet with Lope de
Vega.

Alcalde.--How surprising! I see, indeed, that you know nothing of
his writings, though an Englishman. Now, here am I, a simple
alcalde of Galicia, yet I possess all the writings of Baintham on
that shelf, and I study them day and night.

Myself.--You doubtless, Sir, possess the English Language.

Alcalde.--I do. I mean that part of it which is contained in the
writings of Baintham. I am most truly glad to see a countryman of
his in these Gothic wildernesses. I understand and appreciate your
motives for visiting them: excuse the incivility and rudeness
which you have experienced. But we will endeavour to make you
reparation. You are this moment free: but it is late; I must find
you a lodging for the night. I know one close by which will just
suit you. Let us repair thither this moment. Stay, I think I see
a book in your hand.

Myself.--The New Testament.

Alcalde.--What book is that?

Myself.--A portion of the sacred writings, the Bible.

Alcalde.--Why do you carry such a book with you?

Myself.--One of my principal motives in visiting Finisterra was to
carry this book to that wild place.

Alcalde.--Ha, ha! how very singular. Yes, I remember. I have
heard that the English highly prize this eccentric book. How very
singular that the countrymen of the grand Baintham should set any
value upon that old monkish book.

It was now late at night, and my new friend attended me to the
lodging which he had destined for me, and which was at the house of
a respectable old female, where I found a clean and comfortable
room. On the way I slipped a gratuity into the hand of Antonio,
and on my arrival, formally, and in the presence of the alcalde,
presented him with the Testament, which I requested he would carry
back to Finisterra, and keep in remembrance of the Englishman in
whose behalf he had so effectually interposed.

Antonio.--I will do so, your worship; and when the winds blow from
the north-west, preventing our launches from putting to sea, I will
read your present. Farewell, my captain, and when you next come to
Finisterra I hope it will be in a valiant English bark, with plenty
of contrabando on board, and not across the country on a pony, in
company with nuveiros and men of Padron.

Presently arrived the handmaid of the alcalde with a basket, which
she took into the kitchen, where she prepared an excellent supper
for her master's friend. On its being served up the alcalde bade
me farewell, having first demanded whether he could in any way
forward my plans.

"I return to Saint James to-morrow," I replied, "and I sincerely
hope that some occasion will occur which will enable me to acquaint
the world with the hospitality which I have experienced from so
accomplished a scholar as the Alcalde of Corcuvion."

CHAPTER XXXI

Coruna--Crossing the Bay--Ferrol--The Dockyard--Where are we now?--
Greek Ambassador--Lantern-light--The Ravine--Viveiro--Evening--
Marsh and Quagmire--Fair Words and Fair Money--The Leathern Girth--
Eyes of Lynx--The Knavish Guide.

From Corcuvion I returned to Saint James and Coruna, and now began
to make preparation for directing my course to the Asturias. In
the first place I parted with my Andalusian horse, which I
considered unfit for the long and mountainous journey I was about
to undertake; his constitution having become much debilitated from
his Gallegan travels. Owing to horses being exceedingly scarce at
Coruna, I had no difficulty in disposing of him at a far higher
price than he originally cost me. A young and wealthy merchant of
Coruna, who was a national guardsman, became enamoured of his
glossy skin and long mane and tail. For my own part, I was glad to
part with him for more reasons than one; he was both vicious and
savage, and was continually getting me into scrapes in the stables
of the posadas where we slept or baited. An old Castilian peasant,
whose pony he had maltreated, once said to me, "Sir Cavalier, if
you have any love or respect for yourself, get rid I beseech you of
that beast, who is capable of proving the ruin of a kingdom." So I
left him behind at Coruna, where I subsequently learned that he
became glandered and died. Peace to his memory!

From Coruna I crossed the bay to Ferrol, whilst Antonio with our
remaining horse followed by land, a rather toilsome and circuitous
journey, although the distance by water is scarcely three leagues.
I was very sea-sick during the passage, and lay almost senseless at
the bottom of the small launch in which I had embarked, and which
was crowded with people. The wind was adverse, and the water
rough. We could make no sail, but were impelled along by the oars
of five or six stout mariners, who sang all the while Gallegan
ditties. Suddenly the sea appeared to have become quite smooth,
and my sickness at once deserted me. I rose upon my feet and
looked around. We were in one of the strangest places imaginable.
A long and narrow passage overhung on either side by a stupendous
barrier of black and threatening rocks. The line of the coast was
here divided by a natural cleft, yet so straight and regular that
it seemed not the work of chance but design. The water was dark
and sullen, and of immense depth. This passage, which is about a
mile in length, is the entrance to a broad basin, at whose farther
extremity stands the town of Ferrol.

Sadness came upon me as soon as I entered this place. Grass was
growing in the streets, and misery and distress stared me in the
face on every side. Ferrol is the grand naval arsenal of Spain,
and has shared in the ruin of the once splendid Spanish navy: it
is no longer thronged with those thousand shipwrights who prepared
for sea the tremendous three-deckers and long frigates, the greater
part of which were destroyed at Trafalgar. Only a few ill-paid and
half-starved workmen still linger about, scarcely sufficient to
repair any guarda costa which may put in dismantled by the fire of
some English smuggling schooner from Gibraltar. Half the
inhabitants of Ferrol beg their bread; and amongst these, as it is
said, are not unfrequently found retired naval officers, many of
them maimed or otherwise wounded, who are left to pine in
indigence; their pensions or salaries having been allowed to run
three or four years in arrear, owing to the exigencies of the
times. A crowd of importunate beggars followed me to the posada,
and even attempted to penetrate to the apartment to which I was
conducted. "Who are you?" said I to a woman who flung herself at
my feet, and who bore in her countenance evident marks of former
gentility. "A widow, sir," she replied, in very good French; "a
widow of a brave officer, once admiral of this port." The misery
and degradation of modern Spain are nowhere so strikingly
manifested as at Ferrol.

Yet even here there is still much to admire. Notwithstanding its
present state of desolation, it contains some good streets, and
abounds with handsome houses. The alameda is planted with nearly a
thousand elms, of which almost all are magnificent trees, and the
poor Ferrolese, with the genuine spirit of localism so prevalent in
Spain, boast that their town contains a better public walk than
Madrid, of whose prado, when they compare the two, they speak in
terms of unmitigated contempt. At one end of this alameda stands
the church, the only one in Ferrol. To this church I repaired the
day after my arrival, which was Sunday. I found it quite
insufficient to contain the number of worshippers who, chiefly from
the country, not only crowded the interior, but, bare-headed, were
upon their knees before the door to a considerable distance down
the walk.

Parallel with the alameda extends the wall of the naval arsenal and
dock. I spent several hours in walking about these places, to
visit which it is necessary to procure a written permission from
the captain-general of Ferrol. They filled me with astonishment.
I have seen the royal dockyards of Russia and England, but for
grandeur of design and costliness of execution, they cannot for a
moment compare with these wonderful monuments of the bygone naval
pomp of Spain. I shall not attempt to describe them, but content
myself with observing, that the oblong basin, which is surrounded
with a granite mole, is capacious enough to permit a hundred first-
rates to lie conveniently in ordinary: but instead of such a
force, I saw only a sixty-gun frigate and two brigs lying in this
basin, and to this inconsiderable number of vessels is the present
war marine of Spain reduced.

I waited for the arrival of Antonio two or three days at Ferrol,
and still he came not: late one evening, however, as I was looking
down the street, I perceived him advancing, leading our only horse
by the bridle. He informed me that, at about three leagues from
Coruna, the heat of the weather and the flies had so distressed the
animal that it had fallen down in a kind of fit, from which it had
been only relieved by copious bleeding, on which account he had
been compelled to halt for a day upon the road. The horse was
evidently in a very feeble state; and had a strange rattling in its
throat, which alarmed me it first. I however administered some
remedies, and in a few days deemed him sufficiently recovered to
proceed.

We accordingly started from Ferrol; having first hired a pony for
myself, and a guide who was to attend us as far as Rivadeo, twenty
leagues from Ferrol, and on the confines of the Asturias. The day
at first was fine, but ere we reached Novales, a distance of three
leagues, the sky became overcast, and a mist descended, accompanied
by a drizzling rain. The country through which we passed was very
picturesque. At about two in the afternoon we could descry through
the mist the small fishing town of Santa Marta on our left, with
its beautiful bay. Travelling along the summit of a line of hills,
we presently entered a chestnut forest, which appeared to be
without limit: the rain still descended, and kept up a ceaseless
pattering among the broad green leaves. "This is the commencement
of the autumnal rains," said the guide. "Many is the wetting that
you will get, my masters, before you reach Oviedo." "Have you ever
been as far as Oviedo?" I demanded. "No," he replied, "and once
only to Rivadeo, the place to which I am now conducting you, and I
tell you frankly that we shall soon be in wildernesses where the
way is hard to find, especially at night, and amidst rain and
waters. I wish I were fairly back to Ferrol, for I like not this
route, which is the worst in Galicia, in more respects than one;
but where my master's pony goes, there must I go too; such is the
life of us guides." I shrugged my shoulders at this intelligence,
which was by no means cheering, but made no answer. At length,
about nightfall, we emerged from the forest, and presently
descended into a deep valley at the foot of lofty hills.

"Where are we now?" I demanded of the guide, as we crossed a rude
bridge at the bottom of the valley, down which a rivulet swollen by
the rain foamed and roared. "In the valley of Coisa doiro," he
replied; "and it is my advice that we stay here for the night, and
do not venture among those hills, through which lies the path to
Viveiro; for as soon as we get there, adios! I shall be
bewildered, which will prove the destruction of us all." "Is there
a village nigh?" "Yes, the village is right before us, and we
shall be there in a moment." We soon reached the village, which
stood amongst some tall trees at the entrance of a pass which led
up amongst the hills. Antonio dismounted and entered two or three
of the cabins, but presently came to me, saying, "We cannot stay
here, mon maitre, without being devoured by vermin; we had better
be amongst the hills than in this place; there is neither fire nor
light in these cabins, and the rain is streaming through the
roofs." The guide, however, refused to proceed: "I could scarcely
find my way amongst those hills by daylight," he cried, surlily,
"much less at night, midst storm and bretima." We procured some
wine and maize bread from one of the cottages. Whilst we were
partaking of these, Antonio said, "Mon maitre, the best thing we
can do in our present situation, is to hire some fellow of this
village to conduct us through the hills to Viveiro. There are no
beds in this place, and if we lie down in the litter in our damp
clothes we shall catch a tertian of Galicia. Our present guide is
of no service, we must therefore find another to do his duty."
Without waiting for a reply, he flung down the crust of broa which
he was munching and disappeared. I subsequently learned that he
went to the cottage of the alcalde, and demanded, in the Queen's
name, a guide for the Greek ambassador, who was benighted on his
way to the Asturias. In about ten minutes I again saw him,
attended by the local functionary, who, to my surprise, made me a
profound bow, and stood bare-headed in the rain. "His excellency,"
shouted Antonio, "is in need of a guide to Viveiro. People of our
description are not compelled to pay for any service which they may
require; however, as his excellency has bowels of compassion, he is
willing to give three pesetas to any competent person who will
accompany him to Viveiro, and as much bread and wine as he can eat
and drink on his arrival." "His excellency shall be served," said
the alcalde; "however, as the way is long and the path is bad, and
there is much bretima amongst the hills, it appears to me that,
besides the bread and wine, his excellency can do no less than
offer four pesetas to the guide who may be willing to accompany him
to Viveiro; and I know no one better than my own son-in-law,
Juanito." "Content, senor alcalde," I replied; "produce the guide,
and the extra peseta shall be forthcoming in due season."

Soon appeared Juanito with a lantern in his hand. We instantly set
forward. The two guides began conversing in Gallegan. "Mon
maitre," said Antonio, "this new scoundrel is asking the old one
what he thinks we have got in our portmanteaus." Then, without
awaiting my answer, he shouted, "Pistols, ye barbarians! Pistols,
as ye shall learn to your cost, if you do not cease speaking in
that gibberish and converse in Castilian." The Gallegans were
silent, and presently the first guide dropped behind, whilst the
other with the lantern moved before. "Keep in the rear," said
Antonio to the former, "and at a distance: know one thing
moreover, that I can see behind as well as before. Mon maitre,"
said he to me, "I don't suppose these fellows will attempt to do us
any harm, more especially as they do not know each other; it is
well, however, to separate them, for this is a time and place which
might tempt any one to commit robbery and murder too."

The rain still continued to fall uninterruptedly, the path was
rugged and precipitous, and the night was so dark that we could
only see indistinctly the hills which surrounded us. Once or twice
our guide seemed to have lost his way: he stopped, muttered to
himself, raised his lantern on high, and would then walk slowly and
hesitatingly forward. In this manner we proceeded for three or
four hours, when I asked the guide how far we were from Viveiro.
"I do not know exactly where we are, your worship," he replied,
"though I believe we are in the route. We can scarcely, however,
be less than two mad leagues from Viveiro." "Then we shall not
arrive there before morning," interrupted Antonio, "for a mad
league of Galicia means at least two of Castile; and perhaps we are
doomed never to arrive there, if the way thither leads down this
precipice." As he spoke, the guide seemed to descend into the
bowels of the earth. "Stop," said I, "where are you going?" "To
Viveiro, Senhor," replied the fellow; "this is the way to Viveiro,
there is no other; I now know where we are." The light of the
lantern shone upon the dark red features of the guide, who had
turned round to reply, as he stood some yards down the side of a
dingle or ravine overgrown with thick trees, beneath whose leafy
branches a frightfully steep path descended. I dismounted from the
pony, and delivering the bridle to the other guide, said, "Here is
your master's horse, if you please you may load him down that
abyss, but as for myself I wash my hands of the matter." The
fellow, without a word of reply, vaulted into the saddle, and with
a vamos, Perico! to the pony, impelled the creature to the descent.
"Come, Senhor," said he with the lantern, "there is no time to be
lost, my light will be presently extinguished, and this is the
worst bit in the whole road." I thought it very probable that he
was about to lead us to some den of cut-throats, where we might be
sacrificed; but taking courage, I seized our own horse by the
bridle, and followed the fellow down the ravine amidst rocks and
brambles. The descent lasted nearly ten minutes, and ere we had
entirely accomplished it, the light in the lantern went out, and we
remained in nearly total darkness.