The Bible in Spain

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CHAPTER XXXIV

Departure from Oviedo--Villa Viciosa--The Young Man of the Inn--
Antonio's Tale--The General and his Family--Woful Tidings--To-
morrow we Die--San Vincente--Santander--An Harangue--Flinter the
Irishman.

So we left Oviedo and directed our course towards Santander. The
man who accompanied us as guide, and from whom I hired the pony on
which I rode, had been recommended to me by my friend the merchant
of Oviedo. He proved, however, a lazy indolent fellow; he was
generally loitering two or three hundred yards in our rear, and
instead of enlivening the way with song and tale, like our late
guide, Martin of Rivadeo, he scarcely ever opened his lips, save to
tell us not to go so fast, or that I should burst his pony if I
spurred him so. He was thievish withal, and though he had engaged
to make the journey seco, that is, to defray the charges of himself
and beast, he contrived throughout to keep both at our expense.
When journeying in Spain, it is invariably the cheapest plan to
agree to maintain the guide and his horse or mule, for by so doing
the hire is diminished at least one third, and the bills upon the
road are seldom increased: whereas, in the other case, he pockets
the difference, and yet goes shot free, and at the expense of the
traveller, through the connivance of the innkeepers, who have a
kind of fellow feeling with the guides.

Late in the afternoon we reached Villa Viciosa, a small dirty town,
at the distance of eight leagues from Oviedo: it stands beside a
creek which communicates with the Bay of Biscay. It is sometimes
called La Capital de las Avellanas, or the capital of the Filberts,
from the immense quantity of this fruit which is grown in the
neighbourhood; and the greatest part of which is exported to
England. As we drew nigh we overtook numerous cars laden with
avellanas proceeding in the direction of the town. I was informed
that several small English vessels were lying in the harbour.
Singular as it may seem, however, notwithstanding we were in the
capital of the Avellanas, it was with the utmost difficulty that I
procured a scanty handful for my dessert, and of these more than
one half were decayed. The people of the house informed me that
the nuts were intended for exportation, and that they never dreamt
either of partaking of them themselves or of offering them to their
guests.

At an early hour on the following day we reached Colunga, a
beautiful village on a rising ground, thickly planted with chestnut
trees. It is celebrated, at least in the Asturias, as being the
birth-place of Arguelles, the father of the Spanish constitution.

As we dismounted at the door of the posada, where we intended to
refresh ourselves, a person who was leaning out of an upper window
uttered an exclamation and disappeared. We were yet at the door,
when the same individual came running forth and cast himself on the
neck of Antonio. He was a good-looking young man, apparently about
five and twenty, genteelly dressed, with a Montero cap on his head.
Antonio looked at him for a moment, and then with a Ah, Monsieur,
est ce bien vous? shook him affectionately by the hand. The
stranger then motioned him to follow him, and they forthwith
proceeded to the room above.

Wondering what this could mean, I sat down to my morning repast.
Nearly an hour elapsed, and still Antonio did not make his
appearance; through the boards, however, which composed the ceiling
of the kitchen where I sat, I could hear the voices of himself and
his acquaintance, and thought that I could occasionally distinguish
the sound of broken sobs and groans; at last there was a long
pause. I became impatient, and was about to summon Antonio, when
he made his appearance, but unaccompanied by the stranger. "What,
in the name of all that is singular," I demanded, "have you been
about? Who is that man?" "Mon maitre," said Antonio, "c'est un
monsieur de ma connoissance. With your permission I will now take
a mouthful, and as we journey along I will tell you all that I know
of him."

"Monsieur," said Antonio, as we rode out of Colunga, "you are
anxious to know the history of the gentleman whom you saw embrace
me at the inn. Know, mon maitre, that these Carlist and Christino
wars have been the cause of much misery and misfortune in this
country, but a being so thoroughly unfortunate as that poor young
gentleman of the inn, I do not believe is to be found in Spain, and
his misfortunes proceed entirely from the spirit of party and
faction which for some time past has been so prevalent.

"Mon maitre, as I have often told you, I have lived in many houses
and served many masters, and it chanced that about ten years ago I
served the father of this gentleman, who was then a mere boy. It
was a very high family, for monsieur the father was a general in
the army, and a man of large possessions. The family consisted of
the general, his lady, and two sons; the youngest of whom is the
person you have just seen, the other was several years older.
Pardieu! I felt myself very comfortable in that house, and every
individual of the family had all kind of complaisance for me. It
is singular enough, that though I have been turned out of so many
families, I was never turned out of that; and though I left it
thrice, it was of my own free will. I became dissatisfied with the
other servants or with the dog or the cat. The last time I left
was on account of the quail which was hung out of the window of
madame, and which waked me in the morning with its call. Eh bien,
mon maitre, things went on in this way during the three years that
I continued in the family, out and in; at the end of which time it
was determined that the young gentleman should travel, and it was
proposed that I should attend him as valet; this I wished very much
to do. However, par malheur, I was at this time very much
dissatisfied with madame his mother about the quail, and I insisted
that before I accompanied him the bird should be slaughtered for
the kitchen. To this madame would by no means consent; and even
the young gentleman, who had always taken my part on other
occasions, said that I was unreasonable: so I left the house in a
huff, and never entered it again.

"Eh bien, mon maitre, the young gentleman went upon his travels,
and continued abroad several years; and from the time of his
departure until we met him at Colunga, I have not set eyes upon,
nor indeed heard of him. I have heard enough, however, of his
family; of monsieur the father, of madame, and of the brother, who
was an officer of cavalry. A short time before the troubles, I
mean before the death of Ferdinand, monsieur the father was
appointed captain-general of Coruna. Now monsieur, though a good
master, was rather a proud man, and fond of discipline and all that
kind of thing, and of obedience. He was, moreover, no friend to
the populace, to the canaille, and he had a particular aversion to
the nationals. So when Ferdinand died, it was whispered about at
Coruna, that the general was no liberal, and that he was a better
friend to Carlos than to Christina. Eh bien, it chanced that there
was a grand fete, or festival at Coruna, on the water; and the
nationals were there, and the soldiers. And I know not how it
befell, but there was an emeute, and the nationals laid hands on
monsieur the general, and tying a rope round his neck, flung him
overboard from the barge in which he was, and then dragged him
astern about the harbour until he was drowned. They then went to
his house and pillaged it, and so ill-treated madame, who at that
time happened to be enceinte, that in a few hours she expired.

"I tell you what, mon maitre, when I heard of the misfortune of
madame and the general, you would scarcely believe it, but I
actually shed tears, and was sorry that I had parted with them in
unkindness on account of that pernicious quail.

"Eh bien, mon maitre, nous poursuivrons notre histoire. The eldest
son, as I told you before, was a cavalry officer and a man of
resolution, and when he heard of the death of his father and
mother, he vowed revenge. Poor fellow! but what does he do but
desert, with two or three discontented spirits of his troop, and
going to the frontier of Galicia, he raised a small faction, and
proclaimed Don Carlos. For some little time he did considerable
damage to the liberals, burning and destroying their possessions,
and putting to death several nationals that fell into his hands.
However, this did not last long, his faction was soon dispersed,
and he himself taken and hanged, and his head stuck on a pole.

"Nous sommes deja presque au bout. When we arrived at the inn, the
young man took me above, as you saw, and there for some time he
could do nothing but weep and sob. His story is soon told:- he
returned from his travels, and the first intelligence which awaited
him on his arrival in Spain was, that his father was drowned, his
mother dead, and his brother hanged, and, moreover, all the
possessions of his family confiscated. This was not all: wherever
he went, he found himself considered in the light of a factious and
discontented person, and was frequently assailed by the nationals
with blows of sabres and cudgels. He applied to his relations, and
some of these, who were of the Carlist persuasion, advised him to
betake himself to the army of Don Carlos, and the Pretender
himself, who was a friend of his father, and remembered the
services of his brother, offered to give him a command in his army.
But, mon maitre, as I told you before, he was a pacific young
gentleman, and as mild as a lamb, and hated the idea of shedding
blood. He was, moreover, not of the Carlist opinion, for during
his studies he had read books written a long time ago by countrymen
of mine, all about republics and liberties, and the rights of man,
so that he was much more inclined to the liberal than the Carlist
system; he therefore declined the offer of Don Carlos, whereupon
all his relations deserted him, whilst the liberals hunted him from
one place to another like a wild beast. At last, he sold some
little property which still remained to him, and with the proceeds
he came to this remote place of Colunga, where no one knew him, and
where he has been residing for several months, in a most melancholy
manner, with no other amusement than that which he derives from a
book or two, or occasionally hunting a leveret with his spaniel.

"He asked me for counsel, but I had none to give him, and could
only weep with him. At last he said, 'Dear Antonio, I see there is
no remedy. You say your master is below, beg him, I pray, to stay
till to-morrow, and we will send for the maidens of the
neighbourhood, and for a violin and a bagpipe, and we will dance
and cast away care for a moment.' And then he said something in
old Greek, which I scarcely understood, but which I think was
equivalent to, 'Let us eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow we
die!'

"Eh bien, mon maitre, I told him that you were a serious gentleman
who never took any amusement, and that you were in a hurry.
Whereupon he wept again, and embraced me and bade me farewell. And
now, mon maitre, I have told you the history of the young man of
the inn."

We slept at Ribida de Sela, and the next day, at noon, arrived at
Llanes. Our route lay between the coast and an immense range of
mountains, which rose up like huge ramparts at about a league's
distance from the sea. The ground over which we passed was
tolerably level, and seemingly well cultivated. There was no lack
of vines and trees, whilst at short intervals rose the cortijos of
the proprietors,--square stone buildings surrounded with an outer
wall. Llanes is an old town, formerly of considerable strength.
In its neighbourhood is the convent of San Cilorio, one of the
largest monastic edifices in all Spain. It is now deserted, and
stands lone and desolate upon one of the peninsulas of the
Cantabrian shore. Leaving Llanes, we soon entered one of the most
dreary and barren regions imaginable, a region of rock and stone,
where neither grass nor trees were to be seen. Night overtook us
in these places. We wandered on, however, until we reached a small
village, termed Santo Colombo. Here we passed the night, in the
house of a carabineer of the revenue, a tall athletic figure who
met us at the gate armed with a gun. He was a Castilian, and with
all that ceremonious formality and grave politeness for which his
countrymen were at one time so celebrated. He chid his wife for
conversing with her handmaid about the concerns of the house before
us. "Barbara," said he, "this is not conversation calculated to
interest the strange cavaliers; hold your peace, or go aside with
the muchacha." In the morning he refused any remuneration for his
hospitality. "I am a caballero," said he, "even as yourselves. It
is not my custom to admit people into my house for the sake of
lucre. I received you because you were benighted and the posada
distant."

Rising early in the morning, we pursued our way through a country
equally stony and dreary as that which we had entered upon the
preceding day. In about four hours we reached San Vincente, a
large dilapidated town, chiefly inhabited by miserable fishermen.
It retains, however, many remarkable relics of former magnificence:
the bridge, which bestrides the broad and deep firth, on which
stands the town, has no less than thirty-two arches, and is built
of grey granite. It is very ancient, and in some part in so
ruinous a condition as to be dangerous.

Leaving San Vincente behind us, we travelled for some leagues on
the sea-shore, crossing occasionally a narrow inlet or firth. The
country at last began to improve, and in the neighbourhood of
Santillana was both beautiful and fertile. About a league before
we reached the country of Gil Blas, we passed through an extensive
wood, in which were rocks and precipices; it was exactly such a
place as that in which the cave of Rolando was situated, as
described in the novel. This wood has an evil name, and our guide
informed us that robberies were occasionally committed in it. No
adventure, however, befell us, and we reached Santillana at about
six in the evening.

We did not enter the town, but halted at a large venta or posada at
the entrance, before which stood an immense ash tree. We had
scarcely housed ourselves when a tremendous storm of rain and wind
commenced, accompanied with thunder and lightning, which continued
without much interruption for several hours, and the effects of
which were visible in our journey of the following day, the streams
over which we passed being much swollen, and several trees lying
uptorn by the wayside. Santillana contains four thousand
inhabitants, and is six short leagues' distance from Santander,
where we arrived early the next day.

Nothing could exhibit a stronger contrast to the desolate tracts
and the half ruined towns through which we had lately passed, than
the bustle and activity of Santander, which, though it stands on
the confines of the Basque provinces, the stronghold of the
Pretender, is almost the only city in Spain which has not suffered
by the Carlist wars. Till the close of the last century it was
little better than an obscure fishing town, but it has of late
years almost entirely engrossed the commerce of the Spanish
transatlantic possessions, especially of the Havannah. The
consequence of which has been, that whilst Santander has rapidly
increased in wealth and magnificence, both Coruna and Cadiz have
been as rapidly hastening to decay. At present it possesses a
noble quay, on which stands a line of stately edifices, far
exceeding in splendour the palaces of the aristocracy at Madrid.
These are built in the French style, and are chiefly occupied by
the merchants. The population of Santander is estimated at sixty
thousand souls.

On the day of my arrival I dined at the table d'hote of the
principal inn, kept by a Genoese. The company was very
miscellaneous, French, Germans, and Spaniards, all speaking in
their respective languages, whilst at the ends of the table,
confronting each other, sat two Catalan merchants, one of whom
weighed nearly twenty stone, grunting across the board in their
harsh dialect. Long, however, before dinner was concluded, the
conversation was entirely engrossed and the attention of all
present directed to an individual who sat on one side of the bulky
Catalan. He was a thin man of about the middle height, with a
remarkably red face, and something in his eyes which, if not a
squint, bore a striking resemblance to it. He was dressed in a
blue military frock, and seemed to take much more pleasure in
haranguing than in the fare which was set before him. He spoke
perfectly good Spanish, yet his voice betrayed something of a
foreign accent. For a long time he descanted with immense
volubility on war and all its circumstances, freely criticising the
conduct of the generals, both Carlists and Christinos, in the
present struggle, till at last he exclaimed, "Had I but twenty
thousand men allowed me by the government, I would bring the war to
a conclusion in six months."

"Pardon me, Sir," said a Spaniard who sat at the table, "the
curiosity which induces me to request the favour of your
distinguished name."

"I am Flinter," replied the individual in the military frock, "a
name which is in the mouth of every man, woman, and child in Spain.
I am Flinter the Irishman, just escaped from the Basque provinces
and the claws of Don Carlos. On the decease of Ferdinand I
declared for Isabella, esteeming it the duty of every good cavalier
and Irishman in the Spanish service to do so. You have all heard
of my exploits, and permit me to tell you they would have been yet
more glorious had not jealousy been at work and cramped my means.
Two years ago I was despatched to Estremadura, to organize the
militias. The bands of Gomez and Cabrera entered the province and
spread devastation around. They found me, however, at my post; and
had I been properly seconded by those under my command, the two
rebels would never have returned to their master to boast of their
success. I stood behind my intrenchments. A man advanced and
summoned us to surrender. 'Who are you?' I demanded. 'I am
Cabrera,' he replied; 'and I am Flinter,' I retorted, flourishing
my sabre; 'retire to your battalions or you will forthwith die the
death.' He was awed and did as I commanded. In an hour we
surrendered. I was led a prisoner to the Basque provinces; and the
Carlists rejoiced in the capture they had made, for the name of
Flinter had long sounded amongst the Carlist ranks. I was flung
into a loathsome dungeon, where I remained twenty months. I was
cold; I was naked; but I did not on that account despond, my spirit
was too indomitable for such weakness. My keeper at last pitied my
misfortunes. He said that 'it grieved him to see so valiant a man
perish in inglorious confinement.' We laid a plan to escape
together; disguises were provided, and we made the attempt. We
passed unobserved till we arrived at the Carlist lines above
Bilbao; there we were stopped. My presence of mind, however, did
not desert me. I was disguised as a carman, as a Catalan, and the
coolness of my answers deceived my interrogators. We were
permitted to pass, and soon were safe within the walls of Bilbao.
There was an illumination that night in the town, for the lion had
burst his toils, Flinter had escaped, and was once more returned to
re-animate a drooping cause. I have just arrived at Santander on
my way to Madrid, where I intend to ask of the government a
command, with twenty thousand men."

Poor Flinter! a braver heart and a move gasconading mouth were
surely never united in the same body. He proceeded to Madrid, and
through the influence of the British ambassador, who was his
friend, he obtained the command of a small division, with which he
contrived to surprise and defeat, in the neighbourhood of Toledo, a
body of the Carlists, commanded by Orejita, whose numbers more than
trebled his own. In reward for this exploit he was persecuted by
the government, which, at that time, was the moderado or juste
milieu, with the most relentless animosity; the prime minister,
Ofalia, supporting with all his influence numerous and ridiculous
accusations of plunder and robbery brought against the too-
successful general by the Carlist canons of Toledo. He was
likewise charged with a dereliction of duty, in having permitted,
after the battle of Valdepenas, which he likewise won in the most
gallant manner, the Carlist force to take possession of the mines
of Almaden, although the government, who were bent on his ruin, had
done all in their power to prevent him from following up his
successes by denying him the slightest supplies and reinforcements.
The fruits of victory thus wrested from him, his hopes blighted, a
morbid melancholy seized upon the Irishman; he resigned his
command, and in less than ten months from the period when I saw him
at Santander, afforded his dastardly and malignant enemies a
triumph which satisfied even them, by cutting his own throat with a
razor.

Ardent spirits of foreign climes, who hope to distinguish
yourselves in the service of Spain, and to earn honours and
rewards, remember the fate of Columbus, and of another as brave and
as ardent--Flinter!

CHAPTER XXXV

Departure from Santander--The Night Alarm--The Black Pass.

I had ordered two hundred Testaments to be sent to Santander from
Madrid: I found, however, to my great sorrow, that they had not
arrived, and I supposed that they had either been seized on the way
by the Carlists, or that my letter had miscarried. I then thought
of applying to England for a supply, but I abandoned the idea for
two reasons. In the first place, I should have to remain idly
loitering, at least a month, before I could receive them, at a
place where every article was excessively dear; and, secondly, I
was very unwell, and unable to procure medical advice at Santander.
Ever since I left Coruna, I had been afflicted with a terrible
dysentery, and latterly with an ophthalmia, the result of the other
malady. I therefore determined on returning to Madrid. To effect
this, however, seemed no very easy task. Parties of the army of
Don Carlos, which, in a partial degree, had been routed in Castile,
were hovering about the country through which I should have to
pass, more especially in that part called "The Mountains," so that
all communication had ceased between Santander and the southern
districts. Nevertheless, I determined to trust as usual in the
Almighty and to risk the danger. I purchased, therefore, a small
horse, and sallied forth with Antonio.

Before departing, however, I entered into conference with the
booksellers as to what they should do in the event of my finding an
opportunity of sending them a stock of Testaments from Madrid; and,
having arranged matters to my satisfaction, I committed myself to
Providence. I will not dwell long on this journey of three hundred
miles. We were in the midst of the fire, yet, strange to say,
escaped without a hair of our heads being singed. Robberies,
murders, and all kinds of atrocities were perpetrated before,
behind, and on both sides of us, but not so much as a dog barked at
us, though in one instance a plan had been laid to intercept us.
About four leagues from Santander, whilst we were baiting our
horses at a village hostelry, I saw a fellow run off after having
held a whispering conversation with a boy who was dealing out
barley to us. I instantly inquired of the latter what the man had
said to him, but only obtained an evasive answer. It appeared
afterwards that the conversation was about ourselves. Two or three
leagues farther there was an inn and village where we had proposed
staying, and indeed had expressed our intention of doing so; but on
arriving there, finding that the sun was still far from its bourne,
I determined to proceed farther, expecting to meet with a resting-
place at the distance of a league; though I was mistaken, as we
found none until we reached Montaneda, nine leagues and a half from
Santander, where was stationed a small detachment of soldiers. At
the dead of night we were aroused from our sleep by a cry that the
factious were not far off. A messenger had arrived from the
alcalde of the village where we had previously intended staying,
who stated that a party of Carlists had just surprised that place,
and were searching for an English spy, whom they supposed to be at
the inn. The officer commanding the soldiers upon hearing this,
not deeming his own situation a safe one, instantly drew off his
men, falling back on a stronger party stationed in a fortified
village near at hand. As for ourselves, we saddled our horses and
continued our way in the dark. Had the Carlists succeeded in
apprehending me, I should instantly have been shot, and my body
cast on the rocks to feed the vultures and wolves. But "it was not
so written," said Antonio, who, like many of his countrymen, was a
fatalist. The next night we had another singular escape: we had
arrived near the entrance of a horrible pass called "El puerto de
la puente de las tablas," or the pass of the bridge of planks,
which wound through a black and frightful mountain, on the farther
side of which was the town of Onas, where we meant to tarry for the
night. The sun had set about a quarter of an hour. Suddenly a
man, with his face covered with blood, rushed out of the pass.
"Turn back, sir," he said, "in the name of God; there are murderers
in that pass; they have just robbed me of my mule and all I
possess, and I have hardly escaped with life from their hands." I
scarcely know why, but I made him no answer and proceeded; indeed I
was so weary and unwell that I cared not what became of me. We
entered; the rocks rose perpendicularly, right and left, entirely
intercepting the scanty twilight, so that the darkness of the
grave, or rather the blackness of the valley of the shadow of death
reigned around us, and we knew not where we went, but trusted to
the instinct of the horses, who moved on with their heads close to
the ground. The only sound which we heard was the plash of a
stream, which tumbled down the pass. I expected every moment to
feel a knife at my throat, but "IT WAS NOT SO WRITTEN." We
threaded the pass without meeting a human being, and within three
quarters of an hour after the time we entered it, we found
ourselves within the posada of the town of Onas, which was filled
with troops and armed peasants expecting an attack from the grand
Carlist army, which was near at hand.