Excursions in the mountains of Ronda and Granada, with characteristic sketches of the inhabitants of southern Spain, vol. 1/2
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Title: Excursions in the mountains of Ronda and Granada, with characteristic sketches of the inhabitants of southern Spain, vol. 1/2
Author: C. Rochfort Scott
Release date: August 1, 2013 [eBook #43378]
Most recently updated: November 27, 2024
Language: English
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EXCURSIONS IN THE MOUNTAINS OF RONDA AND GRANADA, WITH CHARACTERISTIC SKETCHES OF THE INHABITANTS OF SOUTHERN SPAIN, VOL. 1/2 ***
Produced by Ann Jury, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
Etext transcriber's note: The footnotes have been located after the
etext. Corrections of some obvious typographical errors have been made
(a list follows the etext); the spellings of several words currently
spelled in a different manner have been left un-touched. (i.e.
chesnut/chestnut; sanatory/sanitary; every thing/everything;
hords/hoards; visiters/visitors; her's/her;s negociation/negotiation.)
The accentuation of words in Spanish has not been corrected or
normalized.
[Illustration:
_On Stone by T. J. Rawlins from a Sketch by Capt C. R. Scott._
_R. Martin lithog., 26, Long Acre._
THE GENERALIFE, PALACE AND VALLEY OF THE DARRO.
FROM A WINDOW IN THE ALHAMBRA.
_Published by Henry Colburn, 13, G.t Marlborough St._]
EXCURSIONS
IN THE
MOUNTAINS
OF
RONDA AND GRANADA,
WITH CHARACTERISTIC SKETCHES
OF THE INHABITANTS OF THE SOUTH OF SPAIN.
BY
CAPTAIN C. ROCHFORT SCOTT,
AUTHOR OF "TRAVELS IN EGYPT AND CANDIA."
"_Aqui hermano Sancho, podemos meter las manos_
_hasta los codos, en esto que llaman aventuras._"
DON QUIJOTE.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
LONDON: HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.--1838.
LONDON:
F. SHOBERL, JUN. 51, RUPERT STREET, HAYMARKET.
DEDICATION.
To the Valued Friends who witnessed, and whom a congeniality of taste
led to _enjoy_ with me, the scenes herein described--whose wearied limbs
have sought repose upon the same hard floor--whose spoons have been
dipped in the same _Gazpacho_, I dedicate these pages.
In the course of our perigrinations we have often observed to each
other,
"Hæc olim meminisse juvabit."
C. ROCHFORT SCOTT.
Woolwich, 26th October.
CONTENTS
OF
THE FIRST VOLUME.
PREFATORY CHAPTER.
Containing little more than an Invocation--A Dissertation--A Choice of
Miseries--A Bill of Fare--And a Receipt for making a Favourite Spanish
Dish.....1
CHAPTER I.
Gibraltar--Forbidden Ground--Derivation of the Name--Curious
Provisions of the Treaty of Utrecht--Extraction of Saints without a
Miracle--Demoniacal Possessions--Beauty of the Scenery--Agremens of the
Garrison--Its Importance to Great Britain, but Impolicy of making it a
Free Port to all Nations--Lamentable Changes--Sketch of the Character of
the Mountaineers of Ronda--English Quixotism--Political Opinions of the
Different Classes in Spain.....21
CHAPTER II.
San Roque--Singular Title of "the City
Authorities"--Situation--Climate--The late Sir George Don, Lieutenant
Governor of Gibraltar--Anecdote Illustrative of the Character of the
Spanish Government--Society of Spain--The Tertulia--The Various Circles
of Spanish Society Tested by Smoking--Erroneous Notions of English
Liberty and Religion--Startling Lental Ceremonies.....41
CHAPTER III.
Country in the Vicinity of San Roque--Ruins of the Ancient City
of Carteia--Field of Battle of Alphonso the Eleventh--Journey to
Ronda--Forest of Almoraima--Mouth of the Lions--Fine Scenery--Town of
Gaucin--A Spanish Inn--Old Castle at Gaucin--Interior of an Andalusian
Posada--Spanish Humour--Mountain Wine.....59
CHAPTER IV.
Journey to Ronda Continued--A Word on the Passport and Bill of Health
Nuisances, and Spanish Custom-House Officers--Romantic Scenery--Splendid
View--Benadalid--Atajate--First View of the Vale of Ronda--A
Dissertation on Adventures, to make up for their absence--Ludicrous
Instance of the Effects of Putting the Cart before the Horse.....83
CHAPTER V.
The Basin of Ronda--Sources of the River Guadiara--Remarkable Chasm
through which it flows--City of Ronda--Date of its Foundation--Former
Names--General Description--Castle--Bridges--Splendid Scenery--Public
Buildings--Amphitheatre--Population--Trade--Smuggling--Wretched State of
the Commerce, Manufactures, and Internal Communications of Spain, and
Evils and Inconvenience resulting therefrom--Rare Productions of the
Basin of Ronda--Amenity of its Climate--Agremens of the City--Excellent
Society--Character of its Inhabitants.....99
CHAPTER VI.
Ronda Fair--Spanish Peasantry--Various Costumes--Jockeys and
Horses--Lovely view from the New Alameda--Bull Fights--Defence of
the Spanish Ladies--Manner of Driving the Bulls into the Town--First
Entrance of the Bull--The Frightened Waterseller--The Mina, or Excavated
Staircase--Ruins of Acinippo--The Cueva del Gato--The Bridge of the
Fairy.....121
CHAPTER VII.
Legend of the Fairy's bridge.....150
CHAPTER VIII.
Departure for Malaga--Scenery on and Dangers of the Road to El
Burgo--Fine View from Casarabonela--An Independent Innkeeper--A Spanish
Battle, attended with more Decisive Results than usual--Description of
Casarabonela--Comeliness of its Washing Nymphs--Road to Malaga--River
Guadaljorce--Sigila of the Romans--Cartama.....178
CHAPTER IX.
Unprepossessing Appearance of Malaga--Dread of Yellow Fever--The
Alameda--Derivation of the City's Name, and Sketch of its History--The
Gibralfaro and Alcazaba--Cathedral--Cigar Manufactory--Calculation
of the Supply and Consumption of Cigars in Spain--Malaga
Figures--Population--Trade--Wine Harbour--Society--Visit to El
Retiro--The Fandango and Cachuca.....199
CHAPTER X.
Choice of Routes between Malaga and Granada--Road to
Velez--Malaga--Observations on that Town--Continuation of Journey to
Granada--Fertile Valley of the River Velez--Venta of Alcaucin--Zafaraya
Mountains--Alhama--Description of that Place and of its Thermal
Baths--Cacin--Venta of Huelma--Salt-pans of La Mala--First View of
Granada and its Vega--Situation of the City--Its Salubrity--Ancient
Names--Becomes the Capital of the Last Moslem Kingdom of Spain--Fine
Approach to the Modern City--It is the most purely Moorish Town in
Spain--Cause of the Decadence of the Arts under the Moors of Granada,
and of the easy Conquest of the City--Destruction of the Moorish
Literature on the Capture of the City by the Spaniards.....217
CHAPTER XI.
The Alhambra and Generalife--Other Reliques of the Moors contained
within the City--The Cathedral of Granada--Chapel of the Catholic
Kings--Antiquity of the Church of Eliberi--Tomb of Gonzalvo de
Cordoba--Churches of San Juan De Dios and San Domingo--Carthusian
Convent--Hermita De San Anton.....239
CHAPTER XII.
Granada continued--The Zacatin--Market Place--Bazaar--Population--The
Granadinos-Their Predilection for the French Costume--Love of Masked
Balls--Madame Martinez de la Rosa's Tertulia--An English Country
Dance metamorphosed--Specimen of Spanish Taste in fitting up Country
Houses--The Marques de Montijo--Anecdote of the Late King and
the Conde de Teba--Constitutional Enthusiasm of Granada--Ends in
Smoke--Military Schools--Observations on the Spanish Army--Departure
for Cordoba--Pinos de la Puente--Puerto de Lope--Moclin--Alcala la
Real--Spanish Peasants--Manner of computing Distance--Baena--Not
the Roman Town of Ulia--Castro el Rio--Occupied by a Cavalry
Regiment--Valuable Friend--Curiosity of the Spanish Officers--Ditto
of our New Acquaintance--Influence of "Sherris Sack"--He relates his
History--Continuation of our Journey to Cordoba--First View of that
City.....265
CHAPTER XIII.
Blas el Guerrillero.--A Bandit's Story.....300
CHAPTER XIV.
Blas el Guerrillero--_continued_.....333
CHAPTER XV.
Blas el Guerrillero--_continued_.....364
CHAPTER XVI.
Blas el Guerrillero--_continued_.....396
CHAPTER XVII.
Cordoba--Bridge over the Guadalquivir--Mills--Quay--Spanish
Projects--Foundation of the City--Establishment of the Western
Caliphat--Capture of Cordoba by San Fernando--The Mezquita--Bishop's
Palace--Market Place--Grand Religious Procession--Anecdote of the late
Bishop of Malaga and the Tragala.....410
APPENDIX.....431
ILLUSTRATIONS.
VOL. 1.
The Generalife, Palace, and Valley of the Darro. From a window
in the Alhambra _Frontispiece._
VOL. II.
The Castle of Ximena, and distant view of Gibraltar _Frontispiece._
ERRATA.
VOLUME I.
(corrected by the etext transcriber. On page 433, line 1 emboyó [not
emboyo] was changed to embozó)
Page 27, line 20, for _far more_, read _few_.
Page 151, line 18, for _lightly_, read _slightly_.
Page 161, line 30, for _Aguagils_, read _Aguazils_.
Page 190, line 28, for _Higa_, read _Hija_.
Page 213, line 2, for _nuevos_, read _huevos_.
Page 216, line 14, for _Cachuca_, read _Cachucha_.
Page 370, line 14, for _Higo_, read _Hijo_.
Page 402, line 14, for _Valga mi_, read _Valgame_.
Page 433, line 1, for _emboyo_, read _embozo_.
VOLUME II.
Page 171, line 26, for _surveyors_, read _purveyors_.
Page 271, line 8, for _suda_, read _sua_.
Page 288, line 28, for _provechosos_, read _provechosas_.
Page 432, line 16, for _hagged_, read _haggard_.
EXCURSIONS
IN THE
MOUNTAINS
OF
RONDA AND GRANADA.
PREFATORY CHAPTER.
CONTAINING LITTLE MORE THAN AN INVOCATION--A DISSERTATION--A CHOICE
OF MISERIES--A BILL OF FARE--AND A RECEIPT FOR MAKING A FAVOURITE
SPANISH DISH.
Spain! region of romance! of snow-capped mountains, dark forests, and
crystal streams!--Land of the olive and the vine--the perfumed orange
and bright pomegranate!--Country of portly priests, fierce bandits, and
dark-eyed donzellas--the lively castañet and gay Fandango! And thou,
fair Boetica! favoured province of a favoured clime, whose purple
grape tempted Hercules to arrest his course--whose waving corn-fields
and embowelled treasures have ever since excited the cupidity of the
various ambitious nations that have in turn disputed the empire of the
world! Is it indeed true that ye are "now chiefly interesting to the
traveller for the monuments which a foreign and odious race of
conquerors have left behind them?"[1] Yes, you might proudly answer, we
admit such is the case. Spain is chiefly interesting to the stranger on
account of the monuments left by her turbaned conquerors; but she is so
simply, because, in no other country, are they to be seen in so perfect
a state; because, in no other part of the world subjected to Moslem
sway, did the arts ever reach to such perfection.
But, whilst Spain lays especial claim to the attention of the stranger
on account of the relics of the Moors that are strewed over her surface,
she possesses, in common with other countries of Southern Europe, the
usual attractions that excite the interest of travellers. Can she not
boast of owning monuments of the demi-god Hercules,[2] and other
conquerors of the most remote antiquity? Are not her shores studded
with ruins of the Phoenicians, Carthagenians, and Romans? Has she not
noble works of art of yet more recent times than her Moorish palaces to
boast of? May she not proudly point to the splendid gothic edifices
raised since her release from the Mussulman yoke? to the incomparable
paintings of the divine Murillo? to the statuary of a Cano? Is not the
Spanish peninsula one of the most beautiful as well as richest countries
in the world?
Such is the answer that Spain and her beauteous daughter, Boetica,
might make to the accusation which the words of the accomplished Author
I have quoted may be construed to bear. I will venture to add further,
that Spain, in her present fallen state, excites, perhaps, yet more
intensely, the curiosity and interest of the Traveller, than she could
have done even in the days of her greatest glory: for, the contemplation
of the wreck of such an Empire--an Empire "on whose wide dominions the
sun never set;" whose resources were deemed inexhaustible--cannot but be
highly interesting and instructive.
At every step the stranger takes whilst wandering over Spain's
neglected though still fertile plains, some trace is observable of her
former wealth and power, some proof is manifest of her present poverty
and impotence. Let him cast a glance at the ruins of the magnificent
arsenals of Cadiz, Vigo, and Barcelona[3]--let him mark the closed door
of the Tower of Gold,[4] at Seville--let him observe the use to which
the sumptuous _Lonja_[5] has been converted--the dilapidated condition
of the gorgeous palace of Charles the Fifth. Let him notice the
crumbling state of all the public buildings throughout the kingdom, even
to the actual residences of its monarch--track the remains of once
magnificent roads--explore the deep recesses of abandoned mines. Let
him, in fine, observe the commerce of the country destroyed, its
manufactures ruined, its Army disorganized, and its Treasury penniless;
and, whilst he learns what Spain _has been_, he will see to what a
lamentable state she is reduced.
Nor to the Traveller alone is the contemplation of Spain, in her fallen
greatness, a source of interest and instruction. The Philosopher, the
Statesman, the Philanthropist, and the _Patriot_, may all draw from it
serious matter for reflection. Who amongst them could have foreseen, but
half a century back, that Spain would, in the course of a few years, be
reduced to her present abject condition? Who can _now_ foresee the day
that, phoenix-like, she may arise from her ashes? Who can fully answer
the yet more simple questions--What _led_ to the downfall of Spain? What
keeps her--gifted as she is by nature with all the germs of
prosperity--in her present state of degradation? Did the extraordinary
influx of the precious ores, consequent on the discovery of America,
occasion her gradual downfall? Did the impolitic expulsion of the Jews
and Moors from her territory lead to it? Does the blighting influence of
Popery reply to the two-fold query? Does the vacillating rule of
Despotism solve the problem?
All, probably, have had a share in effecting this lamentable change. The
great influx of money led to the neglect of the resources of Spain
herself, and induced habits of indolence in all classes of society. The
expulsion of the Jews deprived the country of its principal
capitalists--that of the Moors, of its most industrious inhabitants. The
bigotry and intolerance of its Church have kept its population in
ignorance, whilst most other nations of Europe have become enlightened.
The numerous religious houses, endowed with the richest lands in the
country, and swarming with unprofitable inmates, have preyed upon its
resources. The rule of a weak and bigoted race of sovereigns--themselves
governed in turn by profligate favourites and ambitious priests--has
sapped the monarchy to its foundation; finally, the crude and hasty
innovations of wild theorists are undermining its remaining strength,
and preparing to effect its utter downfall.
But, whilst many of these causes still operate most fatally in keeping
the country in its present state of degradation, the last named is that
which is likely to inflict upon it the greatest amount of _misery_.
Catholicism--such as it is in Spain at least--is incompatible with free
institutions; and Catholicism has too firm a hold of the _mass_ of the
Spanish people to be easily eradicated.
_Atheism_, it is true, has made great progress in some quarters; and
between it and Popery lies the contest now carrying on.
Many persons are apt to think that the struggle is between
_Superstition_ and "_liberal Catholicism_"--between a Despotism and a
limited Monarchy. But those who know Spain intimately, are aware that
such is far from being the case; they know, on the contrary, that the
contest must end (_when_ it would be difficult to say) either in the
restoration of an absolute throne, or the establishment of a Democratic
Republic.
The limited Monarchy Party--or _Moderados_--though the most respectable
in talents, consists but of a few educated Nobles, and a small portion
of the Mercantile and learned Professions--some few even of the clergy;
but amongst the mass of the people it has no supporters whatever; for
amongst the lower orders the term is not understood.
The leaders of this party--like the _Gironde_ in France--were carried
away by the breakers of reform, as they swept onwards with increasing
volume; and the unprincipled men who have since usurped the direction of
affairs,--with all the vanity of a Mirabeau, but without one spark of
his talents,--imagine they shall be listened to, when they bid the
flowing tide to advance no further:--but, though they would not object
to, nay, though they _desire_, the establishment of a Republic, yet they
too will find Spanish Robespierres and Talliens to dispute their power.
To others, however, I abandon the wide field of inquiry these questions
open; the following pages, whatever glimmerings of light they may throw
upon the subject, being devoted to the description of but a small
portion of this ill used, ill governed, but most interesting country.
The part I have selected--namely, Andalusia--whilst it differs very
materially from the rest of the Spanish peninsula, claims in many
respects the first place in the estimation of the traveller, whatever
may be his _taste_ or the direction of his inquiries.
If the Moorish monuments be the object of his research, he will find
they have been scattered with a more profuse hand throughout Andalusia
than in any other part of the peninsula; the lofty mountain chain which
forms the northern boundary of the province[6] having for some
considerable time arrested the Christian arms, after the rest of Spain
had been recovered from the Mohammedans; whilst the yet more rugged belt
that encircles Granada presented an obstacle which retarded the entire
reconquest of the kingdom, for upwards of two centuries and a half.
During that long period, therefore, the Moslems, driven within the
limits of so diminished a circle, were necessarily obliged to enlarge
and multiply their towns, to cultivate with greater care their fields
and orchards, and to strengthen, in every possible way, the natural
defences of their territory; and thus, their remains, besides being more
numerous _there_ than in other parts of Spain, furnish specimens, of the
latest as well as of the earliest date, of their peculiar style of
architecture.
Should matters of more general interest have drawn the Traveller to
Spain, he will still find Andalusia laying especial claim to his
attention; History ascribing to each mountain pass and every crumbling
ruin the fame of having been the scene of some desperate conflict
between the various ambitious nations that, before the Saracenic
invasion, successively sought the possession of this fertile region.
The peculiar manners and character of its dark inhabitants afford yet
another source of interest to the Stranger; although the swarthy race
may almost claim to be classed amongst its _Arabic remains_; for so
deep-rooted was the attachment of the Moors of Granada to the country of
their adoption, that neither the oppressive tyranny of their masters,
nor the sacrifice of their religion, nay, not even the establishment of
the "_holy_" inquisition, (which extirpated them by thousands) could
induce them to abandon it. Broken in spirit, replunged in ignorance,
their industry unavailing, their language corrupted, they bent the knee
to the blood-stained cross presented to them, and assumed the name of
Spaniards: but as a Spanish nobleman once observed to me in speaking of
these wild mountaineers, his dependants, "They are to this day but Moors
who go to Mass."
Again, should the beauties of nature have attracted the Traveller's
footsteps to Spain, he will find the scenery of Andalusia of the most
magnificent and varied kind; presenting alternately ranges of lofty
mountains and broad fertile plains--boundless tracts of forest and
richly cultivated valleys--picturesque towns and mountain
fortresses--winding rivers and impetuous torrents. It may indeed be said
to combine the wild beauties of the Tyrol with the luxuriant vegetation
and delightful climate of Southern Italy.
Well might the last of the Alhamares[7] weep, on taking his final leave
of the lovely Vega,[8] over which it had been his fortune to be born the
ruler, whence it was his "luckless" fate to be driven forth, a wanderer!
Even to this day, the Moors of Barbary preserve the title-deeds and
charters by which their ancestors held their estates in Spain, and
offer up daily prayers to _Allah_, to restore to them their lost
Granada; and one might almost suppose, from the nomadic life still led
by many of their tribes, and the unsettled habits which distinguish them
all, that they consider their actual country as but a temporary abode,
and live in the hope and expectation that their oft-repeated prayer will
eventually be heard.
Nor is the present inhabitant of this fair region less sensible than his
Moorish ancestor of the value of his inheritance. It is not in his
nature to express himself in the passionate language of the
Neapolitan,--whose well known exclamation, _Vedi Napoli e poi mori!_
might be applied with better reason to a hundred other places;--but,
with an equal degree of hyperbole though a somewhat less suicidical
feeling, the _Granadino_ declares with calm dignity, that
"_Quien no ha visto à Granada_
_No ha visto nada._"[9]
But, apart from all other considerations, there is a charm in travelling
in Spain, which renders it peculiarly attractive to most persons
possessing the locomotive mania, namely, the charm of _novelty_. Every
thing in that country is different from what is met with in any other;
every thing is proverbially _uncertain_;[10] and the traveller is thus
kept in a constant state of excitement, from his fancy being ever busy
guessing what is to come next.
There can be little doubt but that the uncertainty attendant on all
mundane affairs greatly enhances our enjoyment of life. Take the
duration of our existence itself as an instance: did we know the precise
moment at which it was to terminate, we should be miserable during the
whole period of its continuance. So, in like manner, does the
uncertainty attendant on such trifling matters as getting a bed or a
supper give a peculiar zest to _touring_ in Spain. You have there no
"_Itineraire des Voyageurs_," to mark the spot to a _millimetre_, where
a relay of post-horses is to be found; no "Hand-book for Travellers,"
with a list of the best inns on the road, to spoil your appetite by
anticipation; no dear pains-taking Mrs. Starke,[11] to beat up quarters
and sights for you, and determine beforehand the sum you have (or
rather ought) to pay for bed and "_pasto_." No--you travel with a bad
map of the country in your pocket over a stony track that is _not_
marked upon it--and which you are at times disposed to believe is rather
the bed of a torrent than a road. Before you is the prospect of passing
the night on this villanous king's highway; or, should you be fortunate
enough to reach the shelter of a roof, the doubt, whether a comfortable
bed, a truss of straw, or a hard floor, will receive your wearied limbs;
and whether you will have to go supperless to bed, or find a savoury
_olla_, perfuming the whole establishment.
It must, I think, be admitted, that there is a certain charm in this
independent mode of travelling--this precarious manner of existence. It
carries the wanderer back to the days of chivalry and romance--of the
_Cid Campeador_ and _Bernardo del Carpio_; dropping him at least half a
dozen centuries behind the Liverpool and Manchester Railroad.
Nevertheless,--as the Spaniards say--_Hay gustos que merecen palos_;[12]
and many will perchance think that _mine_ is in that predicament, a
settled order of things being more to their fancy:--_par exemple_, the
five mile an hour clattering _en poste_ over a French _pavé_--all
conversation drowned in the horrible noise made by the heavy horses'
heavy tramp, or the yet more abominable clacking of their monkey
jacketed driver's whips.--Then the certain comforts of a _grand Hotel
meublé_!--the spacious whitewashed room, adorned with prints of Arcola,
Jena, and Friedland! (which I have always thought would look much better
if worked in the pattern of a carpet): the classically canopied
bed!--that certainly would not be less comfortable, if a foot or two
longer.--Others again may be found who would give up the charm of
uncertainty, for the fixed pleasure of sitting behind the pipes and
"_sacraments_" of German postboys, listening to the discordant notes of
their bugles, and looking forward to the sudorific enjoyments (stoves
and duvets) of the _Gasthof_, and the dyspeptic delights (grease and
_sauerkraut_) of its _Speisesaal_!--Some even--but these I trust are
few--may like to listen to the melodiously rounded oaths of an Italian
_vetturino_, addressed to his attenuated horses in all the purity of the
_Lingua Toscana_; by dint of which, and an unceasing accompaniment of
merciless _sferzatone_, he provokes the wretched animals into a
jog-trot, that, with _rinfresco_ and _rinforzo_, kills the whole day and
them by inches, to get over a distance of forty or fifty miles.
For my own part, I freely confess, that not even our English modes of
"getting over the ground" have such charms for me, as the tripping and
stumbling of one's horse over a Spanish _trocha_[13]--I take no delight
in being dragged through the country at the rate of a mile a minute,
powdered with soot, (pardon the bull) suffocated with steam, and
sickened with grease. Neither does our steady ten mile an hour
stage-coach travelling find much favour in mine eyes; though I grant it
is now most admirably conducted, the _comforts_ of the old "slow
coaches" being so happily blended with the accelerated _speed_ called
for in this progressive age, that a change of horses is effected in less
than one minute, and a feed of passengers in something under ten!--But I
always pity the victims of this unwholesome alliance of comfort and
celerity.--Observe that fidgety old gentleman, muzzled in a red worsted
_comforter_, and crowned with a Welsh wig. Having started without
breakfast, or at most with but half of one, he counts impatiently the
minutes and milestones that intervene between him and the dining-place;
arrived there, if five minutes before the appointed time, every thing is
underdone; if five minutes after, a deduction of equal amount is made in
the time allowed for despatching the viands. Swallowing, therefore, in
all haste the indigestible roast pork and parboiled potatoes that are
placed before him, he resumes his seat in or upon the vehicle,
declaring--whilst the unwholesome food sticking in his throat nearly
chokes him--that he "_feels all the better_" for his _dinner!_ soon
after which, with a flushed face and quickened pulse, he drops into a
feverish slumber, dreaming of mad bulls and carniverous swine, sloe
juice and patent brandy.
Towards midnight, the announcement of "a quarter of an hour, gentlemen"
(meaning something less than half that time), relieves him from these
painful reminiscences, affording an opportunity of washing them down
with some scalding liquid, which, though bearing the name of tea or
coffee, is a decoction of some deleterious plant or berry, that
certainly never basked under the sun of China or Arabia Felix.
At last, however, he arrives at the end of his long journey--he has got
over a distance of a hundred and ninety-five miles in nineteen hours and
thirty-five minutes! The hour of arrival is inconveniently early it is
true, but, even at 3 o'clock A.M., he finds a comfortable hotel open to
receive him; an officious "boots" sufficiently master of his drowsy
senses to present the well or rather the ill-used slippers--a smirking
chambermaid sufficiently _awake_ to make him believe that the
_warming_-pan, with which she precedes him up three pair of stairs,
contains _hot_ coals; and impudent enough, whilst presenting him with a
damp, once white, cotton nightcap, to ask at what o'clock he would
_like_ to be awakened--she well knowing, all the time, that the stir of
passengers about to depart by an early coach will to a certainty effect
that object for him in the course of an hour, whether he _likes_ it or
not.
These rapid proceedings have, as I before confessed, no charms for me,
and such as cannot dispense with the comforts I have slightly sketched,
must abstain from travelling in Spain, for very different is the
entertainment they are likely to meet with at an Andalusian
_posada_.[14] _There_, in the matters of "Boots," Hostler, and
Chambermaid, no uncertainty whatever exists, and the traveller must
therefore be prepared to divide with his attendant the several duties of
those useful personages. Nor should he, amidst his multifarious
occupations, neglect the cooking department; for, if he have not an
_arriero_[15] power of consuming oil and garlic, he must watch with
vigilant eye, and restrain with persuasive words, the too bountiful hand
of Our Lady of the _Olla_.[16]
It is to be understood that I speak here of the South of Spain only, and
more especially of the mountainous country encircling the fortress of
Gibraltar,--from whence, in due time, I purpose taking my departure.
I ought here perhaps to give notice, that it is not my intention, in the
following pages, to conduct my reader, town by town, kingdom by kingdom,
through every part of Andalusia; giving him a detailed account of its
statistics, productions, resources, &c.; in fact, spreading before him a
regular three course banquet of travels; but rather to present him with
a light and simple dish of the country, seasoning it with such tales and
anecdotes as were picked up in the course of many excursions, made
during a period of many years; a _Gazpacho_, as it may be called,
whereof the country furnishes the principal part, or bread and water;
and to which the tales--so at least I hope it may be found--give the
_gusto_, imparted to this favourite Andalusian dish, by the addition of
oil, vinegar, and pepper.
I may as well premise, also, that I do not intend to mark with precise
date the time at which any of the incidents about to be narrated
occurred, excepting when the correctness due to matters of history
renders such specification necessary, but to transcribe the notes of my
various rambles as they come most conveniently to hand; stating
generally, however, that they were written during the period comprised
between the years 1822 and 1830, (the greater portion of which I
belonged to the Garrison of Gibraltar) and have been "revised and
corrected, with additions and improvements" from the journal of an
extended tour made several years subsequently.
Considering the small number of my countrymen to whom the Spanish
language is familiar, I may possibly be accused of having unnecessarily
retained many of the proverbs and idioms of the country in their
original garb, referring my readers to an English version of them at the
foot of each page. But as the caustic, and, in general, quaintly rhymed
sayings for which the _Andaluz_ is celebrated cannot but lose much of
their _Bætic salt_ on being translated, I am led to hope that such of my
readers as do _not_ understand Spanish will pardon the trouble I have
thus imposed on them, for the sake of those who do.
In conclusion, I have but to express a hope that the Spanish dish I now
offer to the public may not be displeasing to the English taste, though
I can hardly expect it should be _devoured_ with the relish of the
unsophisticated Sancho; who assigned as one of his principal reasons for
resigning his government of _Barateria_, that he preferred to "_hartarse
de Gazpachos_"[17] than be subjected to a regimen more befitting his
exalted situation.
CHAPTER I.
GIBRALTAR--FORBIDDEN GROUND--DERIVATION OF THE NAME--CURIOUS
PROVISIONS OF THE TREATY OF UTRECHT--EXTRACTION OF SAINTS WITHOUT A
MIRACLE--DEMONIACAL POSSESSIONS--BEAUTY OF THE SCENERY--AGREMENS OF
THE GARRISON--ITS IMPORTANCE TO GREAT BRITAIN, BUT IMPOLICY OF
MAKING IT A FREE PORT TO ALL NATIONS--LAMENTABLE CHANGES--SKETCH OF
THE CHARACTER OF THE MOUNTAINEERS OF RONDA--ENGLISH
QUIXOTISM--POLITICAL OPINIONS OF THE DIFFERENT CLASSES IN SPAIN.
Before mounting my impatient steed--not Pegasus, but my faithful Barb
"_Almanzor_,"--the companion of most of my wanderings; the partaker of
many of my fastings and perils; and whom--such is the mutability of
horse dealing affairs--I saw for the last time curvetting under a
monstrous weight of whisker and mustaches in Hyde Park;--I will detain
my readers a brief space, to cast a glance at the celebrated place on
which we are about to turn our backs.
Let him not take fright, however, at this announcement. It is not my
purpose to lead him the round of all the _sights_ contained within the
walls of this remarkable fortress; albeit they are well worthy of his
notice. Nor shall I, with professional prolixity, point out to his
wondering eyes its crested batteries where 700 cannon bid defiance to
the enemies of Great Britain; still less expose the _arcana_ of its
famed excavated citadel, its interminable galleries, spacious chambers,
&c. which must be as cautiously approached by the pen and ink of the
discreet traveller, as by the pickaxe and shovel of the wary sapper: a
mysterious veil being drawn over them, which it would ill become any of
her Majesty's loyal subjects to remove.
The attempt at concealment is, to be sure, rather absurd; and, as the
late Earl of Chatham drily observed, (on being informed that the plans
of the Fortress could only be sent to him from the Engineer's Office,
under an escort,) reminded him of the delusion of the ostrich, which,
concealing his head in a bush, fancies his whole body is hid from the
sight of his pursuers--since, though we carefully lock up _our_ plans of
the works in a strong box, others, equally good, may be procured for a
shilling any where.
To return to my premised glance at the famed rock, I will say a few
words of the _unde derivatur_ of the name it now bears--Gibraltar--which
is generally supposed to be a compound of the Arabic words Gibel
(Mountain) and Tarik, the name of the Moslem general, who first landed
in Spain, and with whom originated the idea of making it a place of
arms. For though the mount, under the name of Calpe, held a
distinguished place in ancient history, as one of the pillars of
Hercules, yet it is difficult to imagine that it was ever thought of as
a site for a _town_; otherwise, the city of Carteia would hardly have
been built in its immediate vicinity.
With respect, however, to the origin of its Moorish name, it is but
natural to suppose that this remarkable promontory had some
distinguishing appellation in the Arabic dialect, _before_ it was seized
upon and fortified by _Tarik ben Zaide_; and if therefore it was called
after him, it could only have been as indicative of the spot he had
fixed upon for effecting his descent upon the Spanish shore. But this
can hardly be the case, since he did _not_ land there, but near where
the town of Tarifa now stands (which place he founded and gave his name
to); and the rocky peninsula of Gibraltar was only seized upon by
_Tarik_ on his subsequently becoming aware of its great natural
strength, and the advantages its possession consequently held out, for
keeping up the communication with Barbary, and furthering his ulterior
projects against Spain.
It seems, on the other hand, much more probable, that the victorious
Saracens, arriving at the northern extremity of Africa, and finding how
small a space there separated them from Europe, would, whilst eagerly
examining the whole line of coast presented to their longing eyes, have
naturally given names of their own to the most prominent landmarks
observable along it. Now the remarkable head-land that stretched into
the sea towards them, its bold outline rendering, to all appearance, the
limited space that divided them from their prey yet narrower than it
really is,--could not fail to attract their attention; and it may
reasonably enough be supposed that its singular form and apparent
isolation led to its being designated Gibel-thar--(Gibel--mountain, and
thar, or tar--Sp. tajar--Eng. to cut or sever[18])--the severed
mountain,--in allusion to its actual separation from the mountainous
country behind.
The Spanish historian, Lopez de Ayala, notices this derivation of the
name Gibraltar, but prefers the more improbable one of _Gibel Tarik_--or
even _Gibel Phatah_--_Phatah_ signifying both key and victory; whereas,
the key by which Spain was laid open to the Moors was Tarifa; the
victory that made them masters of the country was gained at _Xeres de la
Frontera_.
The castle of Gibraltar (or _Calahorra_) was not built until thirty
years (A.D. 742) after the mountain had been occupied by Tarik; and the
fortress remained in the undisturbed possession of the Moors for upwards
of five centuries and a half, when it was captured by Don Alonzo Perez
de Guzman; though it was afterwards recovered by the Moslems, and again
remained in their possession upwards of a century.[19]
By the treaty of Utrecht, which confirmed this valuable possession to
Great Britain, it was particularly stipulated that no Turkish vessels
should be allowed to anchor under the protection of the fortress;--so
great even at that late period was the dread the Spaniards entertained
of Mohammedan invasion. It was also stipulated that no _Jews_ should be
permitted to domiciliate themselves within the garrison;--an article of
the treaty which has been most glaringly infringed upon.
The archives, &c. were transported to San Roque, whither also most of
the Spanish inhabitants removed with their goods and chattels. The
church property does not, however, appear to have been suffered to be
carried off; and an old Spanish historian gives with pious exultation a
very amusing account of the contraband extraction of the saints from the
different churches, after the fortress had been finally ceded to
heretical England.
The passage cannot but lose in the translation; as indeed every thing in
the Spanish language must. But, even in an English garb, its ludicrous
seriousness may excite a smile.
"A statue of St. Joseph, which, from its extreme corpulence, could not
be secretly transported, was carried away by a good Catholic--by name
Joseph Martin of Medina--placed on the back of a horse as if _he_ were a
person riding. The Saint having been well balanced, enveloped in a
cloak, and his head covered with a _montera_,[20] a person mounted _en
croupe_ to aid in supporting him, and accompanied by some friends to
create confusion and distract attention, they issued forth by the main
street without being discovered."[21]
The fat Saint was lodged with other valuables at San Roque, where he may
be seen to this day. A thinner Saint Joseph supplies his place in the
"Spanish Church" at Gibraltar, and I dare say Joseph Martin has been
canonized, and may be heard further of at Medina Sidonia.
I entirely forget what Saint in particular--or if any--is now charged
with the protection of the "town and territory" of Gibraltar; but the
intervention of one seems highly necessary, for the devil has obtained a
great footing in the place, claiming as his own a Tower--a
Bowling-green--a Bellows--a Gap, and--last, not least--a tremendous
tongue of fire. Perhaps these offerings have been made to the black
gentleman by some good Catholics,--like Joseph Martin,--on the same
principle that the old Italian lady presented him with a costly pair of
horns,--observing--"_Sta bene far' amicizia, anche col' Signor Santo
Diavolo._"
Most persons who have not visited Gibraltar entertain very curious
notions respecting it; picturing to themselves a mere rock, bristling
with cannon, and crowded with Barracks, Furnaces for Red-hot shot, and
Powder-magazines. But, in reality, there are few places of the same
limited extent that can lay claim to greater and more varied natural
beauties.
The Road which leads from the picturesque old Moorish castle to the
southern extremity of the rocky peninsula (a distance of upwards of two
miles) presents a complete change of objects at every turn,--of hanging
gardens, impending rocks, and distant vistas of the Spanish and African
coasts. On gaining the flats at Europa Point, few views, finer than
that which opens upon you, are any where to be met with; none more grand
than, as inclining to the eastward, the back of the singular mountain
bursts upon your sight, its peaked summits rising precipitously near
1400 feet above the Mediterranean, which, lashing in impotent rage its
rocky base, ofttimes dashes a shower of spray over the cottage of the
Governor, situated under the lofty cliff, but at least 200 feet above
the angry ocean.
Again, ascending to the northernmost peak of the rocky ridge, what can
exceed the beauty of the panoramic view?--a wide expanse of sea, studded
with countless vessels of all kinds and nations, but so penned in by
distant mountains as to assume the appearance of a vast lake, is spread
out beneath you:--its glassy surface reflecting the richly wooded or
vine-clad hills of Spain, on one side, the savage and sterile mountains
of Barbary on the other. Casting the eye beyond the sandy isthmus which
to the north separates the isolated rock from the mountains of Spain, it
rests upon successive ranges of sierras, (marked by a most pleasing
variety of tints,) that seem to convey you into the very heart of the
country; and indeed the view is closed only by the Alpujarra range,
which is upwards of a hundred miles distant from the point of view.
Within the Fortress, the hand of man has not neglected to deck out
nature, where art could effect improvement. The Red Sands, formerly an
unsightly burying ground, have been converted--without disturbing the
dust of the tenants of the soil--into public walks and gardens. The
rugged tracks, which not long since were dangerous for a horse to
travel, have been rendered practicable for carriages, and sheltered from
the sun by avenues of trees. The western side of the Rock, which
formerly presented a bare and rugged limestone surface, is now clothed
with a variety of trees and shrubs, that afford cover to numerous
partridges and rabbits, as well as to the aboriginal apes, which have
obtained, and not undeservedly, no small share of celebrity; and this
belt of verdure, besides being refreshing to the sight, tends probably
to lessen the heat of the place and increase its salubrity.
As a place of residence, I know of no town--being a garrison--that
possesses so many agrémens. The society is composed of persons of all
nations and pursuits, and is varied by the passing visits of numerous
strangers, who willingly devote a few days to the examination of the
wonders of the celebrated "rock," and of the beauties of the
neighbourhood. The resident English merchants were, in my day, a most
hospitable body, whose society afforded a grateful variation to the but
too prevalent "our's" and "your's" conversation of a mess table. The
_table_, by the way, possesses great attractions to the _Bon vivant_;
offering him the enjoyment of most of the gastronomic luxuries of the
world at a very cheap rate, and champagne and claret well iced and free
of duty. Finally, to the Sportsman, the neighbourhood affords the
pleasures of hunting, fishing, shooting, and horse-racing; and to the
studious is presented the resource of an excellent library.
I regret to say, however, that I remained at Gibraltar long enough to
witness lamentable changes in many things;--to see the commerce of the
place gradually decline, first from the jealousy of the Spanish
government at its being made a rendezvous for a worthless and ungrateful
gang of refugees; secondly, from various impolitic acts emanating from
the Colonial office; and lastly, from an awful visitation of the yellow
fever, which swept off a third of its dense population, and, for a time,
(Cadiz having about this epoch been also declared a Free port) directed
the smuggling trade into another channel.
The value of Gibraltar to Great Britain has been questioned by a recent
writer on Spain,[22] who doubts whether it be worth preserving at the
cost of a garrison of 4,000 (3,000 at most) troops, and the stones and
mortar required for keeping its defences in repair.
"The command of the Mediterranean," he observes, "belongs to the
strongest fleet." This--albeit a debateable proposition--I will not stop
to dispute; since what Gibraltar claims is simply the command of the
_entrance_ to the Mediterranean; and that clearly belongs to the power
which can most readily keep a force near at hand to prevent all ingress
and egress. Now, Gibraltar is so situated as to enable Great Britain to
do this, with very small naval means; whereas it would require a fleet
of any other nation to watch the Straits, because that power would have
also to blockade the port of Gibraltar. This any one at all acquainted
with the localities,--the prevailing winds, &c.--will readily admit to
be at times an impossibility; and on every occasion that the blockading
squadron might be driven from its cruising ground, the command of the
Straits would again be possessed by Gibraltar, should its batteries
shelter but a few gunboats.
The importance of Gibraltar will increase tenfold in the event of a
_steam war_, as every thing will then depend upon the vicinity of the
contending parties to their _coal depôts_.
But, besides the advantage Gibraltar gives Great Britain, by the
command of the entrance of the Mediterranean, it affords a secure port
at which her ships can refit, reprovision, &c. without incurring the
expense and loss of time attendant on a long voyage to England. And,
with respect to the expense of its maintenance, the benefit accruing to
the nation at large by the disposal of her manufactured and other
produce to an immense amount, far more than counterbalances the cost of
the few thousand troops required for its defence, and which troops may
also be looked upon as a kind of support to our advanced posts, Malta,
Corfu, &c.
To furnish a proof of the value of Gibraltar to Great Britain, as a
market, it will be only necessary to state, that of British manufactured
_cotton_ goods alone the "barren little rock" takes annually to the
value of nearly half a million sterling;--an amount very nearly equal to
that which is exported from the mother country to _all_ her North
American colonies--whilst the kingdom of Portugal (_favouring_ us in
return for benefits conferred) takes of the same articles to the amount
only of £800,000; and all the other ports of Spain together, but to the
value of £13,000.
Now though the government gains but a trifling increase of revenue by
the vast amount of goods exported to Gibraltar, yet the _good_ that is
effected by thus keeping our manufacturers at work may certainly be put
down as benefiting the country at a cheap rate, when the cost is but of
a few thousand troops;--the civil servants, &c., being paid out of the
crown revenues of the place itself.
On one point, I admit our government appears to be in error; namely, in
making Gibraltar "a free port to _every_ flag;" by which "other nations
enjoy the benefit of the establishment, without paying any portion of
the expense:"[23] and it is more particularly to be blamed, for opening
it to the produce of the _United States of America_, which, unlike
France, Tuscany, Sardinia, and Austria, give our commerce no
reciprocating advantage, and whose _tobacco_, imported in immense
quantities, pays as aforesaid no portion of the expense of the
establishment, but is the article of all others that occasions Spain to
watch the transit trade of Gibraltar with such excessive jealousy.
The Spanish government knows full well, that salt fish, manufactured
goods of all sorts, and indeed most of the productions of Great Britain,
_must_ be introduced into the country, and would take but little trouble
to check the contraband trade of Gibraltar, if it were confined to such
articles; but the introduction of Tobacco, Cocoa, Sugar, Spices, and
other productions of Spain's own colonies, which the British Free port
affords other nations the means of pouring into the country, to the
detriment of her transatlantic possessions, naturally occasions a
greater degree of watchfulness to be adopted, and excites much jealousy
and ill will.
At one time, indeed, the combination of untoward circumstances before
alluded to, added to the loss of our extensive trade with Oran and
Algiers--(occasioned by the imposition of prohibitory duties since the
North of Africa became a French Colony)--and the vigilance of the
_farmer_ who _rented_ the preventive cordon--himself an old
smuggler--threatened annihilation to the trade of Gibraltar. But, at the
present day, it once more "looks up:" smuggling, thanks to the lawless
state of Spain, having again furnished occupation to the hardy
mountaineers of Ronda and Granada, who, careless what may be the _form_
of Government at Madrid provided its authority does not extend to
Andalusia, so as to prevent their having free access to the Calicoes and
Tobacco of "_La Plaza_",[24]--have been alternately crying _Viva la
Constitucion_ and _Viva el Rey absoluto_, for the last eighteen years.
Having now, for the present, concluded my remarks upon Gibraltar, I
will embrace the opportunity,--though "Almanzor" has already been kept
an unconscionable time ready saddled--of saying a few words of these
rude _Serranos_,[25] ere I take my reader amongst them.
Smugglers by birth, education, and inclination, it could hardly be
expected that they should be distinguished by the possession of any very
resplendent virtues. Nevertheless, they are characterized by temperance,
honesty, (apart their profession) hospitality, and noble-mindedness.
Hardy and enduring, though generally averse to the occupation of
husbandry, they can scarcely be termed indolent, since their favourite
pursuit is one which exposes them to great fatigue. Proverbially vain,
and supremely ignorant, they look upon their country as the first in the
world, themselves as its bravest inhabitants: in the latter supposition,
being perhaps nearly as far from the truth as in the former; their
courage, such as it is, being rather of the tiger kind. Superstitious
beyond all belief, and priest-ridden to the last degree, still their
naturally caustic and witty temperament cannot be so bridled as to deter
them from indulging in jokes and pleasantries, even at the expense of
the ceremonies of their church, or the peccadilloes of their ghostly
fathers.
As I have stated before, they concern themselves but little with
politics; but, having a most radical distaste for every species of
taxation, the government that troubles them least in this
particular--that is, which has the _least power_ of levying its dues--is
naturally the most popular.
In the eventful period in Spanish History, during which I mixed
constantly with the natives of all classes, I found the _Serranos_ by
turns _Realistas_,--_Constitucionalistas_,--_Serviles_,--_Liberales_,
--_Moderados_,--and _Exaltados_: their opinions invariably changing for
or against the existing [dis]order of things, according to the strength
of the preventive cordon drawn round Gibraltar, and the support given to
the local authorities in exacting the payment of taxes.
The only change that I ever perceived Liberalism to work in their habits
was, that it induced a freer circulation of the pig-skin; thus leading
to inebriety and its concomitants, brawling, insubordination, and
depravity; and though this departure from the sober dignity that
characterizes the Spaniard was most observable in the troops, yet the
pernicious example set by these lawless bands could not but be of bad
omen.
Of the _Serranos_ I may in conclusion say, that, considering their
ignorance and superstition, and above all the demoralizing nature of
their occupation; considering also the wild impracticable country they
inhabit; the distracted state of the kingdom; the lamentably
ill-enforced condition of the laws, and the sad venality of all Spanish
Authorities; they are a wonderfully moral and well-behaved race.
Assassinations,--when the country is not, as at present, disturbed by
political dissensions--are of very rare occurrence; and the same unhappy
state of things has naturally led to the perpetration of numerous
personal outrages and increased the number of highway robberies: but
larceny and housebreaking are even now rarely heard of; and
Incendiarism, Infanticide, and some other heinous crimes that disgrace
more civilized communities, are unknown.
The condition of this singular race presents, therefore, the anomalous
spectacle of the co-existence of rare moral qualities with ignorance,
lawlessness, and superstition; and, by instituting a comparison between
the condition of the inhabitants of Spain and those of better governed
and more enlightened nations, the Philanthropist cannot but entertain a
doubt whether a very high degree of education is, in all cases,
conducive to the happiness of Mankind.
The experiment now in progress of sending Liberty, armed Cap-a-pee, to
take Spain by storm, ere Truth and Wisdom have battered Bigotry and
Ignorance in breach, is one that cannot fail to entail the utmost misery
upon that unhappy country for a long space of years.
No _class_ of Spaniards is, at the present moment, prepared for the
great organic changes in the government and institutions of their
country that _we_ are pressing upon them. There are doubtless some
enlightened men in the upper ranks, who, with the welfare of their
country at heart, wish for a change; but their previous life has
unfitted them from taking the lead in effecting it. There are also many
learned men with heads full of metaphysicks and moral and political
theories, who fancy they have but to lecture on forms of government to
have their views adopted; and in the mass of the people there is a great
deal of intelligence sparkling through a dense cloud of ignorance and
bigotry; but vanity is the besetting sin of all Spaniards; they cannot
bring themselves to think they are behind the rest of Europe; and
consequently they do not see that the more liberal institutions of other
countries have followed, and not preceded, the "_march of intellect_."
The various Constitution builders, who, set after set, have succeeded to
the direction of affairs, in this luckless country, have invariably
found themselves in the situation of a man who, having pulled down his
old house to erect another on the spot, after the model of one he had
_read_ of, discovered, that though slate, bricks, and mortar, were all
at hand, he could not meet with workmen who understood his plan, so as
to put his projected structure together; and thus he was driven to seek
shelter in an outhouse.
But, besides the absolute want of knowledge of the world that all the
ministers of Spain have evinced, from Manuel Godoy to the present day,
there is yet another want that has been almost equally conspicuous
during the same period--namely, the want of _honesty_. One of the best
patriots that the country has produced, since the light of liberalism
first broke upon it, declared that this want was the source of all
Spain's misfortunes.--"_Somos todos corrompidos_"[26] was his painful
confession; and without going to the _full_ extent of that assertion, it
seems more than probable this rottenness at the core will not be cured,
until Spain produces some great tyrant like Napoleon.
A Despot, though not over-scrupulous himself, generally makes his
subordinates honest;[27] but I doubt the possibility of any _set_ of
men, who have been brought up on plunder, divesting themselves of the
habit of _self-appropriation_ when possessed of the distribution of the
loaves and fishes.
I must no longer, however, delay taking my departure from Gibraltar, or
the gates of the fortress will be closed upon me for the night, and
frustrate my intention of sleeping at San Roque.
CHAPTER II.
SAN ROQUE--SINGULAR TITLE OF "THE CITY
AUTHORITIES"--SITUATION--CLIMATE--THE LATE SIR GEORGE DON,
LIEUTENANT GOVERNOR OF GIBRALTAR--ANECDOTE ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE
CHARACTER OF THE SPANISH GOVERNMENT--SOCIETY OF SPAIN--THE
TERTULIA--THE VARIOUS CIRCLES OF SPANISH SOCIETY TESTED BY
SMOKING--ERRONEOUS NOTIONS OF ENGLISH LIBERTY AND
RELIGION--STARTLING LENTAL CEREMONIES.
San Roque is the nearest town to the British fortress, and distant from
it about six English miles. A mere village at the period of the last
siege of Gibraltar, it has gradually increased, so as at the present day
to cover a considerable extent of ground, and to contain a population of
upwards of six thousand souls. The title of _City_ has even been
vicariously bestowed upon it; all public acts, &c., emanating from its
different authorities, being headed in the following singular
manner,--"The President and Individuals of the Board of health of the
_City of Gibraltar_, which, from the material loss of that place, is
established in _this of San Roque_ within its territory, &c."[28]
The Corregidor, Alcalde, and other authorities, are also designated as
of Gibraltar, and not of San Roque.
The town is pleasantly situated on an isolated knoll, the houses
entirely covering its summit, and extending some way down its Northern
and Western slopes; but towards Gibraltar and to the East, the ground
falls very abruptly, so as to form a natural boundary to the town.
Though quite unsheltered by trees, and consequently exposed to the full
power of the sun, San Roque possesses great advantages over Gibraltar in
point of climate; for, whilst its elevation above all the ground in the
immediate vicinity secures to it a freer circulation of air than is
enjoyed by the pent-up fortress, it is sheltered from the damp and
blighting levant wind that blows down the Mediterranean, by a low
mountain range, known as the Sierra Carbonera, or Queen of Spain's
Chair, which is distant about a mile from the town, and stretches in a
North and South direction, between it and the sea.
The baneful _Khamseen_ of the desert is not more dreaded by the nomad
Arab, than is this pestiferous wind by the desk-bound inhabitant of the
Fortress. No sooner does it set in, than a dense cloud gathers round the
isolated mountain, and, clinging with mischievous pertinacity to its
rugged peaks, involves the Town in a damp, unwholesome atmosphere during
the whole period of its continuance. At the same time, the breeze,
repelled by the precipitous cliff that bounds the rock to the Eastward,
sweeps in furious blasts round both its flanks, driving clouds of sand,
flies, and blue devils into every dwelling, and Rheumatism, Asthma, and
Lumbago, into the bones, chests, and backs, of their inmates.
San Roque, being free from this intolerable nuisance, is looked upon as
a sort of Montpelier by the Gibraltarians, and, at the period of which I
write, was very much resorted to by the mercantile classes, who fitted
up comfortable "boxes" there, that afforded them an agreeable retreat
after their daily labours at the desk were concluded.
The late Sir George Don, whilst Lieut. Governor of the Fortress,
invariably passed several months of the year at San Roque; and his noble
hospitality, his ever open purse, and constant employment of the poor in
works of utility, secured to him the love and respect of all classes of
its inhabitants. Indeed, such was the gallant Veteran's influence in the
place, that I may literally say, not a stone could be turned nor a tree
planted without "His Excellency's" being first consulted as to the
propriety of the measure.
My duty requiring me to be in frequent attendance upon the Lieut.
Governor, I generally made one of Sir George's party, whenever he fixed
his Head-quarters at San Roque; and on one of these occasions a
circumstance occurred that throws such a light upon the extraordinary
character of the Spanish Government, that I am tempted to relate it
before proceeding further.
I was seated one morning tête-à-tête with the General, waiting the
arrival of the Messenger with letters, &c. from the Fortress, when we
observed a guard of Spanish soldiers pass by the window, headed by an
officer on horseback, and having a prisoner in charge; and to our
astonishment they stopped at the General's door. We were waiting with
some little curiosity to learn the cause of this extraordinary visit,
and were lost in conjectures as to whom the delinquent could be, when
the door of the apartment was thrown open, and in rushed the prisoner
himself, exclaiming with great excitement and the volubility of his
nation--"General, you doubtless know me--I am Prince Napoleon Lucien
Murat--I throw myself upon and claim your protection--I have been
entrapped by the vile Spanish government" (this was soon after the
restoration of the "_inclito_" Ferdinand). "Invited by the Commandant of
San Roque to pay him a visit, I was seduced to leave Gibraltar, and on
arriving at the Spanish lines was seized upon and hurried off under an
escort, to be imprisoned at Algeciras, where I should have been
murdered, but that fortunately I succeeded in persuading the officer
charged with my safeguard to pass through San Roque on his way and allow
me to speak to you. He unwittingly acceded to my request, and I now
place myself under the protection of the British flag."
"Monsieur," replied the General, with no slight astonishment, "this is
indeed a very extraordinary, and apparently most unjustifiable
proceeding; but I am sorry to inform you that I can afford you no
_protection_. The British flag does not fly at San Roque; and I myself
reside here only by permission of the Spanish government. My good
offices,--as far as they can be of service in liberating you,--shall not
be wanting; but, in the mean time, pray let me hear further particulars
of this plot against your liberty; and Scott,"--turning to me--"have
the goodness to go to the Spanish Commandant, and request he will favour
me with a few minutes' conversation."
I proceeded as directed to the quarters of the Colonel of the Regiment
of Granada, which at that time formed the garrison of San Roque, and was
ushered in to the Commandant, whom I found at his toilet, and not a
little surprised at my early visit.
Now _Don Alonzo del Pulgar Apugal_--for such were the Colonel's
patronymics--was the least likely man in the world to be employed in a
case of abduction. He was a soft, open-hearted, honeycomb-headed, fat,
good-natured man, of about five and forty, without two military ideas,
and not half a dozen on any other subject. What little knowledge he did
possess, was of dogs, guns, charges, and wadding. But, at the same time,
I knew the Don to be a gentleman, and incapable of acting the part with
which he was charged. When, therefore, I explained the circumstances
that had led to my waiting upon him, ere his unnameables were yet
finally braced round his portly person, he was most excessively
astonished, and repelled with indignant warmth the vile accusation of
being the abbettor--indeed, the principal mover--in the infamous
plot that had placed Prince Lucien's body at the tender mercies
of six Spanish bayonets, and his neck in jeopardy of the
_garrote_[29]--"_Valgame Dios!_" he at length exclaimed, "surely the
poor young man cannot have deceived himself by taking _al pié de la
letra_, our usual Spanish compliment;--for now I recollect, when he was
introduced to me at the _dog-meeting_" (he meant at the fox-hunt) "some
time back, we had some conversation about shooting, and I said my dogs
and guns were at his disposition[30] whenever he wished for a day's
sport.--_Pobrecito!_--it is possible I may thus unconsciously have been
the cause of this unfortunate affair."
Such, however, did not turn out to be the case, for the Prince had
presented himself at the Spanish lines, provided with both dogs and gun,
and accompanied by a sportsman to show him the country.
The kind-hearted Colonel hurried down to Sir George, buckling his sword
on as he went, and was immediately on his arrival taken into a private
room to consult as to what could be done in the business, as well as to
hear the officer of the escort's edition of the story. Mons. Murat
meanwhile remained in the study with one of the general's Aides de Camp
(my friend Budgen of the Royal Engineers) and myself, and to us, who
were yet unacquainted with the heinous nature of the crime of which he
was accused by the Spanish government, appeared to be most unnecessarily
alarmed, and to rely but little on the friendly interference of Sir
George; on which indeed he had as little claim as upon the protection of
the British flag, beyond the jurisdiction of which he had voluntarily
placed himself:--for, considering perhaps that such a step would have
been beneath his dignity as an ex-prince of the Two Sicilies, he had
neglected to pay the customary compliment of calling upon the Governor
on arriving at the Fortress, and was consequently unknown.
After sundry exclamations of regret at having suffered himself to be
made a prisoner without a struggle, he asked if there was a door of
communication with the street running at the back of the house; and, on
my replying in the affirmative, he proposed that I should lend him my
military frock coat, and ask an English officer who had accompanied him
and remained outside to meet him there with his horse--"_alors_"--said
he--the reckless valour of the father showing itself--"_avec le sabre de
Tupper[31] je m'en--de ces laches d'Espagnols_." This of course was out
of the question; as however unfairly he might have been kidnapped--and
of which we had yet to be convinced--it was clear that Sir George's
honour, on the faith of which he had been permitted to enter and remain
in the house, would have been compromised by our connivance at his
escape from it.
We did all we could to quiet his apprehensions until the return of Sir
George, who informed him that it appeared from the statement of the
officer of the escort, that orders had been received from the general
officer commanding at Algeciras to arrest him, should he, on any
pretence, again pass the limits of the British garrison.
The kind-hearted old General expressed the utmost regret at his having
been so imprudent as to trust himself a second time in Spain (for only a
month before he had been conducted to Gibraltar under an escort from
Malaga)--and hoping that his own consciousness of innocence would
relieve him from any fear as to the result of the affair, gave him a
letter to General José O'Donnell, who commanded in the _Campo de
Gibraltar_; in which letter he requested, as a favour to himself, that
every respect and attention might be paid to the young Frenchman:--a
favour he had every right to ask, from one who had received so many more
important ones at his hands.--
General O'Donnell, in his reply, stated that he had but acted in
conformity with instructions received from Madrid--that Monsieur Murat
had some months previously landed at Malaga from a vessel which, when on
its passage with him to America, had been obliged to put into that port
to repair some slight damage experienced in a gale of wind--that, during
his stay there, he had publicly expressed his hostility to the king's
government, and, instead of proceeding to his destination when the
vessel again put to sea, he had appeared rather disposed to establish
himself in that (not over-loyal) city.--The Spanish government viewed
these circumstances with a very suspicious eye; particularly as his
elder brother had, but a few years before, been one of the _aspirans_ to
the constitutional crown of Spain;--and he had consequently been sent
with a _guard of honour_ to Gibraltar, from whence opportunities for
America are more frequent than from Malaga.
In compliance with Sir George Don's request, General O'Donnell promised
that every attention should be paid to the youth's comfort, consistent
with his safe custody, until instructions as to his disposal should be
received from the capital.
The cause of the violent proceedings adopted by the Spanish government
turned out eventually to be, that this scion of Despotism had sung
_Riego's hymn_ all the way from Malaga to Gibraltar; some of his _guard
of honour_ even joining in chorus! and that at Estepona he had, through
the influence of a _colonato_,[32] persuaded an old barber who had
shaved him--he being the ex-trumpeter of the _Nacionales_--to play the
forbidden tune to the astonished fishermen of the place!
The sequel of this state affair was, that Monsieur Murat remained in
durance at Algeciras, until a vessel bound to the United States offered
him the means of crossing the Atlantic.
I used to find that an occasional visit to San Roque made a very
agreeable break in the monotony of a garrison life; for what place, let
its attractions be ever so great, does not become dull when one is _per
forza_ obliged to make it a residence? Even London, Paris, or Vienna,
would not stand the test.
The society of San Roque was not of a very _exclusive_ kind; for but
little of the _sangre azul_[33] of Spain flowed in the veins of its
inhabitants. Nevertheless, there, as elsewhere, some families were to be
met with who looked upon themselves as of a superior order to the rest
of the community; condescending, however, to mix with them on the most
friendly footing at their nightly _Tertulia_. This is a kind of "at
home," announced to be held sometimes once or twice a week, sometimes
nightly, at the houses of the leading families of a town; the _reunion_
taking place after the theatre--should there be one.[34]
In large towns it frequently happens that several houses are open to
receive company on the same night. But, although it is considered rather
a slight to neglect showing yourself at those to which you have the
entrée, it is by no means necessary to do more than that; it being
optional with you to pass the evening at whichever house you find most
attractive, after going the round of all. Even the ladies who open their
houses for _Tertulias_ consider it necessary to send some of the members
of their family to the rival assemblies; always with a message of regret
at not being able to go themselves, their own party being _so very
crowded_ that they could not possibly absent themselves from it, without
giving offence to their numerous guests.
It must be confessed that the Tertulia is a very agreeable mode of
associating; that it offers great variety, without being attended with
the least formality, and entails but slight expense on the entertainers;
iced water and _sospiros_[35] being, excepting on gala nights, the only
refreshment offered to the company.
There is very little difference observable in the various grades of
Spanish society. The same incessant loud talking amongst the females
distinguishes the whole; dancing, singing, cards, and games of forfeits,
are the amusements of all. Even dress, until of late years, did not
furnish a distinction, excepting, in a slight degree, by the costliness
of the materials.
But French taste, with its monstrous and ever-varying eccentricities,
has corrupted that of the upper ranks of Spain, and occasioned the
graceful and becoming national costume to be in a great measure laid
aside.
The great distinction that marks the various grades of Spanish society,
is the latitude given to _smoking_. In the first circles, it is
altogether prohibited. In the second, it is confined to a back room, or
suffered in the patio.[36] In all others it is freely permitted.
It is a positive libel on the ladies of Spain to say that they smoke
under any circumstances; though the disgusting habit prevails amongst
the females of Mexico and other transatlantic states that formerly were
included in the empire of _both worlds_.
A good letter of introduction insures a foreigner admission into the
best Spanish society. He is taken the round of all the tertulias, and,
on receiving from the lady of any house the assurance that it is _at his
disposition_, may present himself there as often as he pleases. Should
this form be withheld, he may take it for granted--despite the
whisperings of self-love--that his future attendance is not wished for.
The need of some little acquaintance with the Spanish language caused
but few English officers to enter into the society of San Roque; but
living there as much as I did, and being often placed in communication
with the authorities, I derived from it a source of great amusement.
Indeed, to Lady Viale[37] and her amiable family I am indebted for many
agreeable evenings; her house uniting the pleasing informality of
Spanish with the solid hospitality (I use the term in our eating and
drinking sense of it) of English society.
It would be an error to depict the manners and customs of the
inhabitants of San Roque, as those of the natives of Andalusia
generally; since, in their various pursuits, the former are so
frequently thrown in contact with Englishmen and other foreigners
settled at Gibraltar, that they cannot but have acquired some of their
habits, and imbibed some of their ideas. Nevertheless, there is a
self-conceit about all Spaniards, that makes them particularly slow in
throwing off their nationality; and the difference is consequently not
so great as might naturally be expected. A proof of this is afforded by
the circumstance of the English language not being spoken, nor even
understood, by fifty of the inhabitants of San Roque; although it is
evidently so much their interest to acquire it.
Their intercourse, on the other hand, (and this is observable in all the
sea-port towns of Spain) has given them strangely ill defined notions of
_English liberty_, and equally extraordinary opinions of our religious
tenets; and has filled their minds with highly constitutional ideas of
the iniquity of taxation, and most conscientious scruples as to the
propriety of supporting a national church. I fear, indeed, that
deistical, nay I believe I should say Atheistical, opinions prevail to a
great extent amongst the upper orders of Spaniards, though they still
continue to observe--if not the penances--all the superstitious
ceremonies and absurd fooleries of the Romish church.
One of their extraordinary lental ceremonies I became acquainted with
under very _alarming_ circumstances. I was awaked one fine April
morning, during one of my earliest visits to San Roque, by a most
furious fusillade, which, considering the unsettled state of Spain at
that particular juncture, I naturally enough concluded was occasioned by
some popular commotion. The appearance of my servant in answer to a
hasty summons of the bell immediately quieted my apprehensions on that
score, however; the broad grin that distended his round Kentish
countenance plainly bespeaking the absence of all danger;--though what
occasioned his unwonted merriment puzzled me to divine. In reply to my
inquiries touching the firing, the only answer I could obtain was,
"They're a shooting of Hoodah."--"And who the deuce is Hoodah?" said I,
"and what has he been about?"--But on these points he was quite as
ignorant as myself; so dressing with all possible despatch--the
astounding rolls of musketry, and as it appeared to me of field
artillery also, continuing the whole time I was so occupied, seeming
indeed to spread to all parts of the town--I issued forth, armed up to
the teeth, and on turning the corner of the street saw, to my horror, a
human figure suspended in the air, and reduced almost to a bundle of
rags by the incessant firing of--as I supposed--a party of soldiers
posted in a cross street.
This surely is "making assurance doubly sure," thought I. Why the poor
devil can't have an inch of sound flesh in his body after all this
peppering. The bang, bang continued incessantly, however, accompanied by
roars of laughter, until at length the ill-fated Hoodah was in a blaze.
A crowd of men and boys, armed with guns, pistols, and blunderbusses,
now rushed from the cross street, (where they had been concealed from my
view) rending the air with _vivas_. At this same moment a loud peal of
music burst upon me from a neighbouring church, and from its portal
issued a long train of priests preceded by the Host. With these came the
recollections of its being Easter Sunday, and of the guttural
pronunciation of the Spanish _J_; and quite ashamed of my war-like
demonstration, I retreated to my house yet quicker than I had issued
from it.
The distant firing continued some time longer; and I afterwards learnt
that the effigies of no less than seven _Judases_ had that morning been
severally hanged, shot, and burnt, to satisfy the holy rage of the
devout inhabitants of San Roque.
CHAPTER III.
COUNTRY IN THE VICINITY OF SAN ROQUE--RUINS OF THE ANCIENT CITY OF
CARTEIA--FIELD OF BATTLE OF ALPHONSO THE ELEVENTH--JOURNEY TO
RONDA--FOREST OF ALMORAIMA--MOUTH OF THE LIONS--FINE SCENERY--TOWN
OF GAUCIN--A SPANISH INN--OLD CASTLE AT GAUCIN--INTERIOR OF AN
ANDALUSIAN POSADA--SPANISH HUMOUR--MOUNTAIN WINE.
The country in the immediate vicinity of San Roque is tame and
uninteresting; but, within the distance of an hour's ride, in whatever
direction you may turn your horse's head, it becomes agreeably
varied,--presenting wide, cultivated valleys, shady forests of cork,
oak, and pine, and wild and cragged mountains.
In the neighbourhood are many objects well deserving the attention of
the antiquary; amongst others, the ruins of the ancient city of Carteia,
situated on the sea-shore, within the bay of Gibraltar, and near the
mouth of the River Guadaranque. The walls may be traced very distinctly;
they enclose an amphitheatre, in a tolerable state of preservation,
reliques of baths and other edifices, and the remains of a small temple
of Corinthian architecture and most exquisite and elaborate workmanship.
This last has only recently been discovered. It was built of beautiful
white marble, and its columns, though lying prostrate, appeared to have
suffered little by their fall; but such is the want of antiquarian taste
in the Spaniards of the present day, that it is to be feared this fine
specimen of the arts has already disappeared, and is now only to be met
with in detached blocks, scattered throughout the neighbouring
farm-houses and walls.
The learned Mr. Francis Carter, whose interesting "Journey from
Gibraltar to Malaga" has, it is much to be regretted, been long out of
print, states, that Carteia was built on the ruins of a "most antique"
city called Tartessus, or Tarsis, from whence, "once in three years,"
the fleets of King Solomon "brought gold and silver, ivory and _apes_
and peacocks."[38] The Greeks afterwards called this city Heraclea,[39]
and in yet more recent times it received the name of Carteia.
The Carthagenians (on the authority of Justin) made themselves masters
of this place, about 280 years B.C., and retained possession of it
until they were finally expelled from Spain by Scipio Africanus, B.C.
203. It was one of the cities most devoted to the cause of the Pompeys,
and that to which Cneus fled for refuge after his defeat at Munda. On
the margin of the River Guadaranque, at a short distance from the walls
of the city, may be seen some remnants of its ancient quays, and about a
mile higher up the stream, other vestiges of antiquity present
themselves, which are supposed to be the remains of a Dock or Arsenal.
They consist of several moles constructed of stone and brick intermixed,
and held together by a very durable cement.
The Guadaranque (River of Mares) discharges itself into the bay of
Gibraltar, three miles N.W. of the fortress; and some distance further
to the westward, the Palmones, another mountain stream, also empties
itself into the bay. In the bed of this latter river may be seen the
piers of a ruined bridge, said to be a work of the Romans. It is evident
from these remains, that a great change has taken place in the character
of the two rivers: since the first can now be entered only by boats of
the very lightest draught, and the other is fordable immediately above
the ruins of the Roman bridge.
The plain between the two rivers is not devoid of interest, being
celebrated as one of the battle fields of the heroic Alphonso XI. (A.D.
1333) whose exploits, independent of his having been the most chivalric
monarch of the Castillian race, are particularly interesting to
Englishmen, from the circumstance of many of our countrymen having
fought under his banner against the Moslems, and particularly at the
siege of Algeciras: which place, notwithstanding the destructive
weapons[40] there for the first time employed against the Christian
army, was captured after a twenty months' siege, and in spite of the
repeated attempts of the allied kings of Granada and Gibraltar to
relieve it, A.D. 1344. In these various endeavours to raise the siege,
the plain extending between the Guadaranque and Palmones again became
the scene of fierce contention; of which a most interesting account will
be found in Villasan's Chronicles of Alphonso XI.
Numerous other points in the neighbourhood of San Roque are equally
worthy of observation; but these I shall not detain my reader longer to
particularise, as other opportunities will present themselves for doing
so more conveniently, in the course of our travels; it being my purpose
to make San Roque a kind of "base of operations," upon which I shall
from time to time retire, for a fresh supply of notes and sketches. I
shall now therefore direct my steps due north, through the lonely and
almost boundless forest of Almoraima, towards Ximena.
The forest consists principally of cork, oak, and ilex; but, in the
marshy parts of it, (called _sotos_,) ash, willow, and other trees to
which such localities are favourable, grow very luxuriantly.
The owner of this vast domain is the Marquis of Moscoso,--who derives
from it a revenue totally disproportioned to its value and extent; and
what little he does get, he squanders nightly at the gaming-table. The
principal source of revenue arises from the numerous herds of swine and
other cattle, that are driven from all parts of the country to feed upon
the acorns, herbage, and underwood, scattered throughout the forest; the
fine, well grown trees with which it abounds being turned to no better
account than to furnish bark and charcoal.
This is entirely owing to the want of means of conveying the timber to a
market; for not even to Gibraltar--in which direction the country is
level--is there a road capable of bearing the draught of heavy weights.
Of course the ruinous passion that swallows up all the proprietor's
resources prevents any attempt at improvement in the management of the
estate; and thus, whilst huge trees, stript of their bark, lie rotting
in some parts of the forest, in others, the underwood is set on fire by
the peasantry--to the great detriment of the larger trees--to improve
the pasture for their cattle.
The ride through the forest is delightful, even in the most sultry
season, the wide-spreading branches of the gnarled cork-trees screening
the narrow paths most effectually from the sun's rays. The gurgle of the
tortuous Guadaranque,--which, escaped from the mountain ravines that
encircle its sources, here wends its way more leisurely to the sea,--may
be heard distinctly on the left, and now and then a glimpse may even be
caught of its dark blue stream, winding under a perfect arbour of
woodbine, clematis, and other creepers, and spanned here and there by a
rustic bridge. The single stem of a tree of which these bridges usually
consist is readily enough crossed by the practised feet and heads of the
swineherds and foresters; but to strangers unskilled in the art of slack
rope dancing, the passage of the stream, like that of the bridge leading
to the Mohammedan's paradise, is a feat of no very easy achievement.
Occasionally, wide, open glades, carpeted with a rich greensward,
present themselves in the very heart of the forest, to diversify the
scenery--giving it quite the character of an English park; and from
these breaks in the wood a view may generally be obtained of the
far-distant towers of Castellar; the mountain fortress of the master of
this princely domain, now inhabited by his _Administrador_, or Agent,
his gamekeepers, and other dependents.
The forest abounds in deer, wild boars, and wolves; but, excepting the
first named, these animals seldom venture to descend into the level
parts of the forest in open day, but confine themselves to the thickly
wooded glens, that furrow the mountain range bordering the right bank of
the Guadaranque.
Permission to shoot in the forest is never refused to the British
officers and inhabitants of Gibraltar. Indeed, excepting for the _caza
mayor_,[41] the ceremony of asking leave is not considered necessary;
and in the winter season the _sotos_ afford good sport, woodcocks,
ducks, and snipes, being very plentiful.
Turning now away from the Guadaranque, and leaving a spacious convent
that gives its name to the forest, about half a mile on the left, the
road inclines to the eastward, and soon reaches a large solitary
building, the Venta _del Aqua del Quejigo_, but known more commonly
amongst the English by the name of the Long Stables, and distinguished
as the scene of many a festive meeting, and many a bacchanalian orgie,
being a favourite place of rendezvous for a _Batida_.[42] My head aches
at the very recollection of the nights passed within its walls. We will
therefore pass on, and again plunge into the forest.
After proceeding about a mile, the road divides into two branches. That
on the right hand is the most direct way to Gaucin, whither I am bending
my steps; but the other, though little known, is the best, and offers
more attractions to the lover of the picturesque. I will therefore take
it, in the present instance, and advise all who may follow in my wake to
do the like.
Continuing two miles further through the impervious forest, the road at
length arrives at the brink of a deep ravine on the right, when a lovely
view breaks upon the traveller, looking over a rich valley watered by
the river Sogarganta, and towards the mountain fortress of Casares and
lofty Sierra Bermeja. The road, hemmed in by steep banks, and still
overshadowed by the forest, descends rather rapidly towards the before
named river; and this narrow pass, being the only outlet from the forest
in this direction, has, from its celebrity in days past as a place of
danger, received the name of the _Boca de Leones_--mouth of the lions.
On emerging from the pass, a wide and carefully cultivated valley
presents itself. The river which fertilizes it, here makes a
considerable elbow; the chain of hills clothed by the Almoraima forest
checking its southerly course, and directing it nearly due east towards
the Mediterranean. To the north, the valley extends nearly ten miles,
appearing to be closed by a conical mound that is crowned by the old
castle of Ximena; the town itself being piled up on its eastern side.
The road to that place (eight miles) keeps along the right bank of the
Sogarganta, which winds gracefully through the wide, flat-bottomed
valley; but the track to Gaucin crosses by a ford to the opposite side
of the stream, and, after advancing about four miles, inclines to the
right, traverses a low range of hills, and comes down upon the river
Guadiaro. This is crossed by means of a ferryboat, and leaving its bank,
and proceeding in a northerly direction, the road passes over a gently
undulated country for several miles, and then begins to ascend a high
wooded ridge on the right hand.
The ascent is long and tortuous, but tolerably easy, and the view,
looking towards Ximena (distant about five miles) is very grand and
imposing. The castellated crag, so proudly conspicuous an hour before,
is now, however, shorn of all its importance; the superior elevation of
the point from whence it is viewed, as well as the magnificence of the
mountains that rise to the westward of Ximena--which now first burst
upon the sight--making it appear but a pebble at their feet.
But scenery of a more varied and yet more magnificent kind awaits the
traveller, at the pass by which the road traverses the ridge that he has
now been nearly an hour ascending.
The lovely valley of the Genal[43] is there spread out to his enraptured
gaze. On the left, embosomed in groves of orange, citron, and
pomegranate trees, and shadowed with clustering vines, stands the
picturesque town of Gaucin,--its boldly outlined castle perched on the
crest of a rough ledge of rock that rises abruptly behind.
Stretching some way down the eastern side of the cragged mound, the
advanced battlements of the Moorish stronghold terminate at the brink
of a frightful precipice, which not only forbids all approach to the
town in that direction, but threatens even some day to close up the
narrow valley it overhangs.
Of the little stream that flows in the deep and thickly wooded ravine,
an occasional glimpse only can be caught, as it turns coquettishly from
side to side; but its general direction is marked by a succession of
water-mills, as well as by a belt of orange and lemon groves, whose dark
green foliage is easily distinguished from, and offers a pleasing
variety to, the more brilliant tints of the surrounding forest. Beyond,
however, where the valley becomes wider and more open, the stream may be
distinctly traced lingering over its pebbly bed, and finally forming its
junction with the Guadiaro.
The steep but graceful slopes of the mountain ridge that bounds the
valley to the east are thickly clothed with cork, oak, chesnut, and
ilex; whilst the rugged peaks of the Sierra Cristellina, in which it
terminates towards Gibraltar, rise so precipitously as seemingly to defy
even a goat to find footing. Over this chain may be seen the distant
Sierra Bermeja, celebrated in Spanish history as the last refuge of the
persecuted Moslems, and the eastern roots of which are washed by the
Mediterranean.
Half an hour's ride brings the traveller from the pass to Gaucin,--the
descent being but short, and very gradual. Gaucin is a long straggling
town, of semi-circular form, and is built partly under the rocky
eminence occupied by the castle, partly on the southern slope of a
narrow gorge that connects this stronghold with the more elevated
_Sierra del Hacho_. The principal street, which traverses the place from
west to east, is wider than most one is accustomed to see in old Moorish
towns, and cleaner than any I have met with in modern Spanish cities.
But nature has all the merit of endowing it with the latter virtue;
having supplied it with copious springs, which, in their downward
course, carry off all the usual impurities of Andalusian streets. The
houses, though not good, are clean, and are decorated with a profusion
of flowers of all sorts, that give out a delicious perfume; and in
various parts of the town, a vine-clung trelliswork of canes is carried
quite across the street, affording at the same time an agreeable shade
and a pleasing vista. The first impression made by the town is therefore
decidedly favourable.
We--(I ought by the way to have stated before now, that the party with
which I travelled on this occasion consisted of _four_)--we therefore, I
repeat, had to traverse the town from one end to the other, to arrive
at the _posada_; which was indicated only by the short,
inorthographical, but otherwise satisfactory and invigorating
announcement, painted in large black letters on the whitewashed wall of
the building--"_Aqui se bende vuen bino_."[44]
A cockney could not have managed to make more mistakes between his _v's_
and _w's_, than our _Andaluz Posadero_[45] had succeeded in compressing
into this pithy advertisement;--hoping, however, that he held his
plighted word in greater respect than the rules of Castillian
grammar,[46] we spurred our horses through the half-opened _porte
cochère_, and, _à l'Espagnole_, rode at once into the principal
apartment of the hostelry.
The interior was far from giving the same cheering assurance that good
entertainment was to be had for money, as was announced externally of
the sale of good wine. I was as yet (I speak of my first visit to
Gaucin) but a novice in Spanish travelling, and thought I had never seen
a more wretched, uncomfortable, and in every way unpromising, place. But
the day was already far spent, and the chance of our finding better
accommodation by proceeding further on our journey was against
us;--moreover, we had been assured (which by experience I afterwards
learnt to be the case) that this was the only _Parador_ fit for
_Caballeros_ between San Roque and Ronda.
It consisted of one long, windowless apartment, that from the number and
variety of its inmates gave no bad idea of Noah's ark. Three fourths of
the dark smoky space served as a stable, wherein four rows of quadrupeds
were compactly tethered; and, impatient for their evening meal, were
neighing, braying, and bleating, with all the powers of their respective
lungs. Amidst the filth and litter that covered the pavement, lay
numberless pigs of all sizes, and every condition of life; some
squeaking for mere squeaking's sake, others grunting in all the
discomfort of repletion. On the rafters overhead some scores of
gallinaceous animals had congregated for the night; adding,
nevertheless, their quota of noise to that of the lower region, whenever
one of their number was abducted from the roost, to be hurried out of
its peaceful existence, into a greasy olla. The remaining portion of the
apartment served both as a refectory and a dormitory for the
_arrieros_,--owners of the tethered quadrupeds--and also as a kitchen,
where their various odoriferous suppers were preparing.
The mistress of the mansion--as wrinkle-visaged an old harridan as ever
tossed off a bumper of _aguadiente_--assisted by her two daughters, was
busily employed, plucking, drawing, dissecting, and otherwise preparing,
divers rabbits, chickens, and other animals, to satisfy the craving
appetites of her numerous guests; and cats innumerable were in close
attendance, clawing and squabbling for the offal, which, to save all
further trouble, was thrown to them on the floor.
The prospect was any thing but inviting; but, as I have said before,
there was no alternative;--so, begging the _Posadera_ to draw near, we
requested she would inform us whether we could be accommodated with a
lodging for the night. Having deliberately scanned the party, and
ascertained to her satisfaction that it consisted entirely of
Englishmen,--whose pockets Spaniards are apt to consider as
inexhaustible as the mines of Mexico and Peru,--the old beldame, oiling
her iron features into a species of smile, assured us we could be lodged
_con toda comodidad_;[47] and screeching to her daughter _Mariquita_,
she desired her to hand over the rabbit she was skinning to her
_hermanita_[48] _Frasquita_, and show the _Caballeros_[49] to the
_Sala_.[50]
Mariquita led us forthwith up a narrow rickety staircase, which,
situated in a dark corner of the room, had escaped our observation; and
into a small room, or rather loft, where she assured us we should be
very quiet and comfortable; adding that it was always reserved for
_gente de pelo_[51] like ourselves.
The only comfort apparent was the undisturbed possession of a space
twelve feet square, enclosed by four bare walls: for of bedding or
furniture of any sort it was quite destitute. We submitted with as good
a grace as possible, but, after some persuasion, succeeded in procuring
four mattresses to spread on the clay floor; as many pairs of clean
sheets and pillows; and some pie-dishes to serve as wash-hand basins. We
then descended, to have some further conversation with our hostess
concerning supper.
The landlady's reply to our first question, "what can we have?" was
gratifying in the extreme--viz. "_lo que ustedes gusten_"--"just what
you please." But, discovering by our next, more explicit demand, "what
can you give us?" that we depended upon the resources of the _posada_
for our evening meal, her astonishment knew no bounds, and her doubts of
the Potosi state of our purses became very evident. Leaving, therefore,
the delicate affair to be explained and settled by one of our servants,
who, being an old traveller, understood how to negociate these matters,
we proceeded to examine the ruined castle, ere the sun had sunk below
the horizon.
A rugged zig-zag pathway--along which, at stated intervals, are
represented the various sufferings and indignities endured by our
Saviour on his way to Mount Calvary--leads to the summit of the rocky
ledge. The fortress that crowns it must, in the days of the Moors, have
possessed great military importance, as it completely commands the
valley, and consequently all the roads leading through it, towards the
coast. It is now merely a picturesque ruin; its Artillery being
dismounted, its wells choked up, and its battlements overgrown with ivy.
A chapel dedicated to the _Niño Dios_[52] is apparently the only thing
within its precincts deemed worthy of preservation.
The view from this spot is very extensive and beautiful, but hardly so
fine as one (which will be hereafter noticed) that presents itself some
miles higher up the valley, when the castle itself becomes one of the
principal features of the landscape, whilst the distant scenery remains
the same.
Returning to the Posada, we lighted our cigars; and, feeling sensibly
the change in the temperature of this elevated region, we joined the
natives assembled round the fireplace, who, with the courtesy natural to
all Spaniards, immediately rose and offered us the seats of honour.
The portion of the apartment allotted to the human kind had now become
crowded with persons of all sorts and conditions; for the animals being
peacefully engaged at their evening repast, their owners thought it time
to be looking after their's. Some, indeed, had already satisfied the
cravings of nature from their own wallets and _pig_-skins, and, taking
time by the forelock, were stretched full length on the floor; their
_Mantas_ and _Capas_ serving them for mattresses and coverlets, their
saddles and _alforjas_ for bolsters and pillows. Others, seated on low
stools composed of junks of cork, had resolved themselves into
committees, to discuss the merits of a _Gazpacho caliente_,[53] or
direct their inquiries into the hidden treasures of a savoury _olla_.
Some were assisting the hostess and her somewhat pretty daughters, in
their culinary operations; and many were assembled round the wide
chimney piece, drinking, smoking, manufacturing _papelitos_ for the
morrow's consumption, and relating their adventures.
Here also were seated several of the village magnates, who repair
nightly to this convenient rendezvous, as well to indulge a natural
propensity to gossip, as to hear the news from _La Plaza_, and negotiate
with the arrieros for their contraband cottons and tobacco.
The whole presented an interior quite suited to the pencil of a Teniers.
A bright wood fire sparkled on the wide hearth, shedding a brilliant red
light upon the group of animated figures assembled in its immediate
vicinity, and here and there also picking out some conspicuous figure
from the more distant parties. The back ground was in deep Murillo
shade, excepting on one side; where the flickering flame of a solitary
lamp, contrasting its pale light with that of the fire, cast a yellow
tinge on the squalid features of the hostess and her helpmates, round
whom the eyes of some dozen of cats danced like monster fireflies. A
well polished _batterie de cuisine_; sides of bacon; ropes of onions;
platters; goblets and tobacco smoke, were not wanting to fill up the
picture. But it was perfect without the aid of such accessories; the
spirit and expression of each actor in the Spanish scene, and the
diversity of costume, giving it a decided superiority over a picture of
the "_Flemish School_;" in which foaming pots of beer, and a melting
_frau_, must needs be introduced, to extract animation from the stolid
features of the assembled boors.
The lower order of Spaniards have a great deal of racy humour which
renders them admirable _raconteurs_. The _arrieros_ assembled round the
fire on the present occasion were relating some story of the barbarous
treatment received by a good Capuchin friar, at the hands of some wicked
_ladrones_,[54] who, finding he possessed nothing worth being plundered
of, had bastinadoed his feet until he could not walk, tied his hands
together, enveloped him in a goat skin, fastened a pair of ram's horns
on his head, a bell to his rosary, and suspending that from his neck,
had left him to crawl as he best could, to the nearest village.
This tale, though not addressed to him, was evidently intended for the
ears of a monk of the same mendicant order, who, pale and trembling, sat
in one corner of the chimney place, listening, with open-mouthed
attention, to every word the _arrieros_ said; at the same time counting
his beads without intermission, and crossing himself devoutly at the
relation of each fresh act of barbarity practised on his unfortunate
brother.
From the significant glances that from time to time passed between the
narrators,--for several of the assembled group came forward to vouch for
the truth of the story,--and latterly between them and ourselves, when
they saw we were aware of the drift of their joke; it was evidently all
fiction; but the tale was told with such minute details, and its
veracity maintained by so many asseverations, that any one, not seeing
the by-play, might easily, like the unhappy monk, have been made the
victim of the hoax.
"_Caramba!_" at length exclaimed the _Alcalde mayor_[55] of Gaucin, who
occupied one corner of the fireplace--"_Caramba!_ this is a strange
story! and it is most extraordinary, that in my official capacity"--this
was said with a certain magisterial air--"I should not have been made
acquainted with it. Pray tell me; _when_ did this happen? and what
became of the pious man?"--"With respect to the time," said another
muleteer, taking up the story, "I cannot precisely inform you; but that
matters little; be satisfied that, in the narration of the story, _no se
salga un punto de la verdad_.[56] As for the friar, he crawled to the
nearest village, driving before him all the cattle he encountered on
the road, like mad things--asses braying--dogs barking; and cows with
their tails in the air as erect as palm trees. The inhabitants took the
alarm; and, snatching up their _niños_ and _rosarios_, scampered off
without listening to what the _Padre_ was crying:--indeed the louder he
hallooed to them to stop, the faster they ran; for they all thought it
was the devil that was at their heels."--"And I believe think so to this
day," joined in another arriero, taking his cigar from his mouth, and
rolling forth a long cloud of smoke--"for at last, the village priest,
seizing upon a crucifix in one hand, and an _escopeta_[57] in the other,
and repeating a heap of _Ave Marias_, _Pater nostres_, and _credos_,
went out to meet the beast. On getting within gunshot, he presented the
_escopeta_ (for I saw it myself, though he said afterwards it was the
crucifix,) upon which the figure fell prostrate on the ground. So then
the _Cura_ went up to it, and, after a few minutes, beckoned the people
forward, and told them how he had cast a devil out of a good Capuchin,
and showed the skin and horns he had kept as trophies. The skin was cut
up and sold to the bystanders for charms against the evil one; and the
friar was placed on an ass, and conveyed to the _Cura's_ dwelling, where
he remained until his feet were healed. He then returned to his
convent, telling every body that he had been assailed by devils in the
form of contrabandistas, and that a miracle had been wrought in his
favour."
Here all crossed themselves--arrieros inclusive.
Others of the muleteers were bandying compliments with the crabbed old
landlady; one swearing that her wine was as sweet as her face; another
that her breath was more savoury than a _chorizo_;[58] a third that his
chocolate was less clear than her complexion: all which jokes she bore
with stoical indifference, returning generally, however, a Rowland for
an Oliver.
At length our supper was announced, and we betook ourselves to the loft,
where we found four chairs and a low table had been added to the
furniture. Our meal consisted of a stewed fowl, that had been pulled
down from the roost before our eyes, not an hour before; an omelet
abounding in onion and garlic; and, what we found far more palatable,
ham and bread and butter, which we had taken care to come provided with.
I must not, however, omit to do justice to the Gaucin wine, which is
excellent, and has much the flavour of a _sound_ Niersteiner. The best
is grown on the side of the _Hacho_, or peaked mountain above the town.
All the wine of the Serrania is good, when not _flavoured_ with aniseed;
but it must be "drunk on the premises;" for the vile habit of carrying
it in pig-skins is sure to give it some bad taste--either of the skin
itself, if new, or of its preceding contents, (probably aniseed brandy)
if old. I tried in vain to get some pure Guacin wine conveyed to
Gibraltar, but it had always a "smack" of the unclean animal's skin.
CHAPTER IV.
JOURNEY TO RONDA CONTINUED--A WORD ON THE PASSPORT AND BILL OF
HEALTH NUISANCES, AND SPANISH CUSTOM-HOUSE OFFICERS--ROMANTIC
SCENERY--SPLENDID VIEW--BENADALID--ATAJATE--FIRST VIEW OF THE VALE
OF RONDA--A DISSERTATION ON ADVENTURES, TO MAKE UP FOR THEIR
ABSENCE--LUDICROUS INSTANCE OF THE EFFECTS OF PUTTING THE CART
BEFORE THE HORSE.
"_A quien madruga, Dios le ayuda_,"[59] is a common Spanish saying; and
though our hard beds took off much from the merit of our early rising,
it nevertheless brought its reward, by enabling us to witness a sunrise
scene of most surpassing beauty.
Partaking of a cup of chocolate,--a breakfast that every Arriero
indulges in,--a slice of bread fried in hog's lard--which is a much
better thing, and quite as wholesome, as _breakfast bacon_--we lit our
cigars, paid our bill--a little fortune to the lady of the hostel--and
bestrode our horses without more delay.
In this part of Spain passports are not included amongst the drags upon
travelling. You should be provided with one, in case of getting into
trouble of any kind; but, excepting during the prevalence of the
cholera, I never, in any of my numerous peregrinations, was even asked
to produce it. I happened at that particular period (1833) to have
undertaken the journey from Gibraltar to Madrid. The disease was raging
with fatal violence on the banks of the lower Guadalquivir, and,
spreading Eastward, had appeared in various towns and villages at the
foot of the Serranía de Ronda. At the same time, reports were rife of
its existence at Malaga, Estepona, and other places situated on the
shores of the Mediterranean. I had therefore to thread my way to
Cordoba, (where I hoped to fall in with the diligence from Seville to
the capital) through the heart of the Serranía, and was obliged in some
cases to avoid particular towns lying in the direct route,
because--though no suspicion existed of their being infected with the
dreadful disease--they chanced to be within the limits of the kingdom of
Seville, which was placed, _in toto_, under the ban of quarantine.
My passport, or, more properly speaking, my bill of health--for the
political importance of the former yielded to the sanatory consequence
of its more humble-looking adjunct--was then in great request; the
entrance to every little village being interdicted, until the
constituted authority had come forward to see that all was right. On one
of these occasions, I found a beggar officiating as inspector of health
and passports, and I must do him the justice to say, that he performed
his duty in the most honourable manner, not asking for "_una limosnita
par el amor de Dios_"[60] until he had carefully examined every part of
the lengthy document, and pronounced it to be _corriente_.[61]
On another occasion, a swineherd was decorated with the yellow cockade
and sword of office. In this instance, I thought the bill of the inn at
San Roque (which I happened to have in my pocket-book) would answer
every purpose, and save time. He examined it most gravely; turned it
over and over--for it was rather a long and a very illegible MS.--said
it was perfectly correct, (a point on which we differed most materially)
and dismissed me with a _vaya usted con Dios_.[62]
On my present tour, however, we experienced no obstructions of any sort;
for custom-house barriers, though now and then met with at the large
towns, occasion no longer delay than a turnpike in England, and are as
regularly paid; the _Aduanero_[63] holding out his hand as openly and
confidently for the bribe, as the gatekeeper does for his toll.
It is scarcely possible to imagine more romantic and, at the same time,
more varied scenery than that which presents itself between Gaucin and
Ronda. For the greater part of the first three leagues[64] (full
fourteen English miles) to Atajate, the road winds along the summit of a
low mountain chain, (I speak only as compared with the height of the
neighbouring Sierras) the western side of which slopes gracefully to the
clear and tortuous Guadiaro, whilst the eastern falls abruptly to the
dark and rapid Genal.
In some places, the width of the mountain ridge exceeds but little that
of the road itself; enabling the traveller to embrace the two valleys at
one glance, and compare their respective beauties. The difference
between them is very remarkable; for whilst the sides of both are
clothed with the richest vegetation, yet the more gentle character of
the one has encouraged the husbandman to devote his labour principally
to the culture of corn, hemp, and the vine; whereas, the steep and
broken banks of the other, being less accessible to the plough, are
mostly planted with groves of fig, olive, chesnut, and almond trees;
though vineyards are also pretty abundant. For the same reason, though
both valleys are studded with villages, yet those along the sloping
banks of the Guadiaro are large, and distant from each other; whilst, in
the more contracted valley of the Genal, almost every isolated crag is
occupied by a group of houses, or a dilapidated fortilage, mementoes of
the Saracenic occupation; as the names, Benarrabá, Benastépar,
Algatocin, Genalguacil, Benalhauría, Benadalid, &c. sufficiently attest.
Beyond the valleys on either side, rise chains of rugged mountains; some
covered to their very peaks with dark forests of pine and ilex; others
rearing their pointed summits beyond the bounds of vegetation.
The eastern chain is that which borders the Mediterranean shore between
Estepona and Marbella; the western is the yet more lofty Sierra that
divides the waters of the Guadiaro and Guadalete; directing the former
to the Mediterranean, the latter to the Atlantic; and terminating in
the ever-memorable headland of Trafalgar.
Through the passes between the huge peaks that break the summit of this
bold range, an occasional glimpse may be caught of the low and far
distant ground about Cadiz and Chiclana; but the view that most excites
the traveller's admiration is obtained from a knoll on the road side,
about three miles from Gaucin, looking back on that place, and down the
verdant valley of the Genal.
The ruins of the old Moorish fortress occupy the right of the picture,
the cragged ridge on which it is perched jutting boldly into the valley,
and (uncheered by the sun's rays) standing out in fine relief from the
bright, vine-clad slope of the impending _Sierra del Hacho_, and yet
more distant mountains. To the left, the view is bounded by the rugged
peaks of the Sierra Cristellina, from the foot of which a dense but
variegated forest spreads entirely across the valley, wherein may here
and there be traced the snake-like course of the impatient Genal.
Further on, the valley presents a wider opening; but the little stream
still has to struggle for a passage amongst the wide spreading roots of
the retiring mountains, which, overlapping each other in rapid
succession, present, for many miles, a most singularly furrowed
country.
Calpe's fantastic peaks rear themselves above all these intermediate
ridges, marking the boundary of Europe: whilst, to the left of the
celebrated promontory, Ceuta may be seen, stretching far into the glassy
Mediterranean, and to the right, the huge Sierra Bullones, (Apes hill)
falling perpendicularly to the Straits of Gibraltar. In the extreme
distance, the African mountains rise in successive ranges, until closed
by the chain of the lower Atlas, the faint blue outline of which may be
distinctly traced in this transparent atmosphere, although at a distance
of at least one hundred miles.
It is a scene that amply repays the traveller for all the désagrémens of
his night's lodging, and one which, numerous as were my visits to
Gaucin, I always turned my back upon with regret. I do so even now, and
proceed on to Ronda, leaving the villages of Algatocin and Benalhauría,
situated on the side of the mountain, to the right of the road, and
about pistol-shot from it; and in a few miles more, descending by a
rough zig-zag track (something worse than a decayed staircase) towards
the little town of Benidalid; which, with its picturesque castle, stands
also somewhat off the road, and immediately under a lofty tor of
decomposed rock, distinguished by the name of the _Peñon de los
Frailes_,[65] and seems doomed, some day or other, to have the holy
mound upon its shoulders.
The next and last village on the road is Atajate, distant about ten
miles from Ronda. It is nestled in a narrow pass, overhung on one side
by the mountain chain along which the road has hitherto been conducted,
(and which here begins to rise considerably above it) and on the other,
by a conical crag, whose summit is occupied by the picturesque ruins of
a Moorish fortress.
In former ages, the houses of the hardy mountaineers, clustered round
the base of the little fastness, must have been secure from all attack;
and even now the pass, which here cuts the direct communication between
Gibraltar and Ronda, (and consequently Madrid) might be held against a
very superior force.
Immediately after passing Atajate, the character of the scenery
undergoes a complete change. The mountains become more rugged and arid,
rising in huge masses some thousand feet above the road, and are tossed
about in curious confusion. Patches of corn and flax are yet here and
there to be seen, and the valley beneath is still clothed with cork and
ilex; but the vineyards, olive grounds, and chesnut groves, have
altogether disappeared, and the villages are far apart, and distant from
the road.
On advancing some little way further, all traces of cultivation cease.
The road,--if a collection of jagged blocks of granite can be so
called,--traverses a succession of perilous ascents and descents;
sometimes being conducted along the brink of an awful precipice, at
others carried under huge masses of crumbling rock. Here and there may,
nevertheless, be traced the remains of a paved road, that, in the days
of Spain's pride, was made for the express purpose of transporting
artillery and stores to the siege of Gibraltar. It is now--so sadly is
Spain fallen!--purposely suffered to go to decay, lest it should offer
facilities for making irruptions from that same fortress!
On drawing near the head of the valley, several narrow cut-throat passes
present themselves, bringing forcibly to mind Don Quijote's speech to
his faithful squire, on reaching the Puerto Lapice, "_Aqui, hermano
Sancho, podemos meter las manos hasta los codos en esto que llaman
aventuras._"[66] But, on gaining the summit of the chain, the country
becomes more open, and the traveller again breathes freely. A few meagre
crops of corn are scattered here and there between the rocks, and the
bells of the fathers of a herd of goats are heard tinkling amongst the
gorse and palmeta that fringe the feet of the impending tors, bespeaking
the vicinity of fellow man, and giving the traveller a pleasing
consciousness of security, whilst he checks his horse to gaze on the
splendid scene before him: for here the lovely basin of Ronda first
bursts upon his view, rich as Ceres and Pomona can make it.
In the centre of the verdant plain, but crowning the summit of an
isolated rocky eminence, stands the shining city,--its patched and
crumbling walls telling of many a protracted siege and desperate
assault. Beyond, the view is bounded by a range of wooded mountains,
that forms the western barrier of the secluded basin, and up the rough
sides of which, the roads to Cadiz, Seville, and Xeres, may be traced,
winding their tedious way.
The descent to Ronda is long, and, from the badness of the road,
extremely wearying. The whole distance from Gaucin (about 25 miles)
occupied us seven hours.
I regret much that my reader should have had to accompany me over this
savage and romantic country--the reputed _head-quarters_ of
banditti--without encountering a single adventure; but the truth is,
they are by no means so plentiful as people have generally been led to
believe. I may speak with some confidence on this point; since,
independently of my long residence in the immediate vicinity of this
wild tract--during which every well authenticated case of outrage and
robbery came to my knowledge--I have by personal experience been able to
form a pretty correct estimate of the amount of danger incurred by the
traveller. I have traversed the country, however, in all directions, and
at all seasons; in all characters, and in all dresses. I have gone on
foot, on horseback, _en calesa_, (where the roads admitted of my so
doing) alone, attended by a single servant, in parties of four, six, and
eight:--as a sportsman, _en militaire_, as a peasant, as a _Majo_: and
yet I never "met with an adventure."
It is true, I have had many very narrow escapes--that is to say, judging
from the information I invariably received--for never did I leave a
_venta_, that I was not mysteriously told the road I was about to take
was the most dangerous in the whole Serranía; that I should be sure to
encounter _mala gente_; and that it was but a few days before, a
robbery--perhaps murder--had taken place, on that very road, attended
with most heart-rending and appalling circumstances! But a little
cross-questioning soon convinced me that my informant knew nothing of
the who, the when, and the where, to which his tale referred; and the
story was always reduced to a shrug of the shoulders and a _se
dice_.[67]
The plain truth is, that almost every one the traveller comes in contact
with is, in some way or other, interested in spreading these reports to
create alarm. The _Ventero_[68] has a natural disinclination to part
with a good customer, and hopes either to persuade his guest to hire
additional horses and guides, or to detain him whilst he seeks for
further information. The guide finds it his interest to alarm his
employer, if only _pour faire valoir ses services_ in piloting him clear
of these reported Scyllas and Charybdises. The Contrabandista tries to
frighten the stranger, that he may learn which road he is travelling and
what is his business; the Arriero simply for his amusement.
The peasant alone has no purpose to serve in deceiving the traveller,
neither has he any intention of so doing; for he himself implicitly
believes all the stories he hears, and repeats them with the usual notes
and addenda of a second edition. He never stirs out of a circle of a
league and a half from his dwelling--that is, beyond the range of his
herd of goats, or the nearest market town--and he hears these tales
repeated night after night, at the venta chimney-piece--each arriero
trying to outdo his brother in the marvellous and horrible--until he
becomes convinced of their veracity, and repeats them as well
authenticated facts.
The state of the country is also such, that when a robbery actually is
committed--and such crimes will be perpetrated in the best regulated
countries--the traveller hears of it from so many different people, but
related with such various attendant circumstances, and stated to have
occurred in so many different places, that he naturally multiplies it
into a dozen at least. It is in this way that foreigners, who in general
know but little of the language, and still less of the topography, of
the country, become dupes to this system of deception, and adopt in
consequence a most unfavourable opinion of Spanish honesty; regarding
every fierce-looking fellow, with piercing black eyes, a three days'
beard, and a long knife stuck in his sash, as a robber; and every Cross
on the road side as the _memento mori_ of some waylaid traveller.
Whereas, in point of fact, if this mountainous and intricate tract were
peopled by our own more highly educated and civilized countrymen, I
fear--in spite of our vigilant and, it must be confessed, admirable
police--we should be liable to have our pockets picked in a much less
delicate and unobtrusive manner, than is now practised in the streets of
London.
That robberies and murders have taken place in this part of Spain, and
sometimes been attended with most revolting cruelty, is most true; but
they have almost always been perpetrated at a time that some unusual
political excitement agitated the country, unnerving the arm of power,
and even--as has often been the case--placing the civil authorities at
the mercy of a ruffian band of undisciplined soldiers.
I regret, however, as before said, that though I courted adventure in
every possible way, (as I think must be admitted) yet my suit was always
unsuccessful; and since I cannot interest my reader with any account of
my own personal risks, I will endeavour to amuse him, with the imaginary
dangers of some of my countrymen, which at the same time will serve to
show how easily a few simple words may, through ignorance of the
language of the country, be made to tell a tale of direful import.
The occurrence to which I allude took place not many years since, when
the country round Gibraltar was infested by a band of robbers, headed by
a notorious miscreant named _José Maria_. Moving about from place to
place with extraordinary rapidity, these scoundrels completely baffled
all pursuit, but of course gave a wide berth to the garrisons of San
Roque and Algeciras; so that the English officers were not deterred from
sallying forth from Gibraltar with their fox-hounds, and pursuing the
favourite national sport.
On one occasion, however, Renard had led them close upon the border of
the Almoraima forest, and some of the party--perhaps a little "_thrown
out_"--were making a short cut across a field of young barley, when,
the owner of the thriving crop, perceiving the mischief the horses'
hoofs were doing, and unconscious of the value of the words
"_'ware corn_," cried lustily out to the red-coated gentry, in his own
vernacular--"_Fuera!--Jesús! María! Josef! mi cibada! mi cañamo! todo,
se echarà à perder!_"[69]
The wave of the arm that accompanied this exclamatory "_Fuera!_" clearly
implied, _be off_; and the sportsmen, full of the exploits of the dread
bandit, translating the words "_Jesus, Maria José_," "_By the Lord,
here's José Maria_;" naturally concluded that the remainder of the
sentence, (pronounced with much gesticulation) could mean nothing but
save yourselves, or you'll be hanged, drawn, and quartered. Not waiting,
therefore, to lose time in questions, they set spurs to their horses,
and rode _ventre à terre_ into the English garrison.
Now the wonderful echo of Killarney is a joke compared to the
reverberation that a story is sent back with, from the "four corners" in
the High Street of Gibraltar. Accordingly, a report was soon spread,
that _José Maria_ had come down close to the Spanish lines, and made a
capture of the "whole field,"--hounds, huntsmen, and whipper-in
inclusive!
A statement of the case was instantly forwarded by an express boat to
the Spanish General commanding at Algeciras; who, rejoicing at the
opportunity of capturing the miscreant band which had so long eluded his
vigilance, forthwith despatched "horse, foot, and dragoons," to scour
the country in all directions.
Of course their search was fruitless; but the laughable mistake that had
occurred, from simply making José and Maria change places, was
discovered only on the return of the other sportsmen, who, after "a
capital run," had secured Master Renard's services for another
occasion.
CHAPTER V.
THE BASIN OF RONDA--SOURCES OF THE RIVER GUADIARO--REMARKABLE CHASM
THROUGH WHICH IT FLOWS--CITY OF RONDA--DATE OF ITS
FOUNDATION--FORMER NAMES--GENERAL
DESCRIPTION--CASTLE--BRIDGES--SPLENDID SCENERY--PUBLIC
BUILDINGS--AMPHITHEATRE--POPULATION--TRADE--SMUGGLING--WRETCHED
STATE OF THE COMMERCE, MANUFACTURES, AND INTERNAL COMMUNICATIONS OF
SPAIN, AND EVILS AND INCONVENIENCE RESULTING THEREFROM--RARE
PRODUCTIONS OF THE BASIN OF RONDA--AMENITY OF ITS CLIMATE--AGREMENS
OF THE CITY--EXCELLENT SOCIETY--CHARACTER OF ITS INHABITANTS.
The basin of Ronda is situated in the very heart of a labyrinth of rough
and arid sierras, which, distinguished, _par excellence_, by the name of
the _Serranía de Ronda_, may be described as the gnarled and
wide-spreading roots of the great mountain ridge, that, traversing Spain
diagonally, divides the affluents to the Mediterranean from those to the
Atlantic, and finally unites with, and becomes a branch of, the Pyrenean
chain.
This singularly secluded and romantic valley is about eight miles in
length and five wide, and, though sunk deep below the mountain ridges
that girt it in on every side, is at least 1500 feet above the level of
the Mediterranean. Its soil is rich, and is rendered peculiarly fertile
by the numerous sources of the Guadiaro, which traverse it in all
directions. The name of this river--composed of the Arabic words, _Guada
al diar_--signifies, water of the houses; an appellation it probably
obtained, from the number of habitations that are said to have lined its
productive banks in former days.
The principal branch of this mountain stream takes its rise to the
eastward of Ronda, amongst some curiously jagged and fantastic peaks, on
which have most appropriately been bestowed the name of the "Old Woman's
Teeth," (_Dientes de la Vieja._) Escaped from their fangs, the gurgling
rivulet, increased by numerous tributary streams, directs its course
more leisurely through the vale, winding its way amongst luxuriant
vineyards, orchards, olive grounds, and corn-fields, until it reaches
the foot of the crag, on which, as has before been stated, stands the
city of Ronda. Here it would appear that nature had, in early ages,
presented a barrier to the further progress of the stream; as a rocky
ledge stretches quite across the bed of this portion of the valley, and,
most probably, by damming up the waters poured down from the mountain
ravines, formed a lake on its eastern side. But, gathering strength from
resistance, the little mountain torrent eventually worked itself an
outlet, and now rushes foaming through a deep, narrow chasm, leaping
from precipice to precipice, until, the rocky barrier forced, it once
more reaches a level country.
On either side of the fearful chasm--or _Tajo_, as it is called in the
language of the country--which the persevering torrent has thus worked
in the rocky ledge, stands the city of Ronda; one portion of which,
encircled by an old embattled wall, that overhangs the southern cliff of
the fissure, is distinguished as the Old Town, and as the site of a
Roman city; whilst the more widely spread buildings on the opposite bank
bear the name of _El Mercadillo_,[70] or New Town.
The present walls of the old town were evidently raised by the Saracens,
and no traces are perceptible of any others having occupied their place.
Nevertheless, it can hardly be supposed that so eligible a site for a
station would have been overlooked by the Romans; and the Spanish
antiquaries have accordingly determined it to be the position of
_Arunda_ (one of the cities mentioned by Pliny as situated in that part
of Boetica inhabited by the _Celtici_)--a conclusion which both its
present name and the discovery of many ancient Roman inscriptions and
statues in its vicinity tend to confirm. Some, however, maintain that
Ronda is the site of the Munda, under whose walls was sealed the fate of
the sons of Pompey. But the adjacent country ill agrees with the
description of it handed down to us; and the little town of Monda,
situated near the Mediterranean shore, is more generally admitted to
have been the scene of Julius Cæsar's victory[71].
However the case may be, this city, under the domination of the Moors,
became one of their principal strongholds; for having, with various
other cities, been ceded by Ishmael King of Granada to the Emperor of
Fez--whose aid against the storm gathering in Castille (A.D. 1318) he
deemed essential for the preservation of his newly-acquired throne--it
was some few years afterwards, with Algeciras, Ximena, Marbella, and
Gibraltar,[72] formed into a kingdom for that emperor's son, _Abou
Melic_; and this prince, passing over into Spain, (A.D. 1331)
established his court at Ronda; building a splendid palace there, and,
according to the usual custom of the Moors, erecting a formidable castle
on the highest pinnacle of the rocky mound. The natural defences of the
city were also strengthened by a triple circuit of walls, rendering it
almost impregnable.
The Moorish name given to the place was _Hisnorrendi_, the laurelled
castle; but, on returning to the hands of the Spaniards, (A.D. 1485) it
assumed its present mongrel appellation; in which its etymological
claims upon the Celtic and Arabic languages are pretty equally balanced,
as the following old couplet partly illustrates;--
_Y con el tiempo se ha desbaratado_
_El Hisna Randa, y Ronda se ha llamado._[73]
The existing circumvallation is very irregular, and embraces little more
than the mere summit of the rocky ledge on which the city stands;
confining it consequently within very narrow limits. Its length,
however, is considerable; and at its southern extremity, where the
ground slopes more gradually to the narrow gorge that connects it with
the neighbouring mountains, a triple line of outworks continues yet to
supply the want of the natural walls which elsewhere render the place so
difficult of access.
On the crest of the ridge overlooking these advanced works, stands the
shell of the capacious castle; or Royal Palace, as it is called. Its
solid walls and vaulted chambers denote it to have been a work of great
strength. It is now, however, but a vast heap of ruins; the French, on
finally evacuating Ronda in 1812, having destroyed the principal part of
it.
The only entrance to the city, from the country, is through a succession
of gates, in the before-mentioned outworks, the last of which is
immediately under the walls of the old palace. From this gate, a long
and narrow, but tolerably straight street, traverses the city from south
to north, terminating at the upper or new bridge, and being nearly three
quarters of a mile in length. This street is lined with handsome shops,
and from it, numerous alleys (for they deserve no better name) lead off
right and left, winding and turning in all directions, and communicating
with numberless little courts, crooked passages, and _culs de sac_;
quite in the style of an eastern city.
In wandering through this labyrinth, the perplexed topographer is
astonished to find a number of remarkably handsome houses. In fact, it
is the _Mayfair_ of Ronda--the aristocratic location of all the
_Hidalguía_[74] of the province;--who, proud of the little patch of
land their forefathers' swords conquered from the accursed Moslems,
would as soon think of denying the infallibility of the Pope, as of
taking up their abode amongst the mercantile inhabitants of the mushroom
suburb.
The New Town, however, I must needs confess,--despite all aristocratic
predilections,--is by far the most agreeable place of residence.
The principal streets are wide, and tolerably straight; it contains some
fine open _plazas_ or squares; and although the houses are thus more
exposed to the influence of the sun, yet, from the same cause, they
enjoy a freer circulation of air. The absence of an enclosing wall tends
also, in point of coolness, to give the _Mercadillo_ an advantage over
the city; leaving it open to receive the full benefit of the refreshing
breezes that sweep down from the neighbouring mountains.
But, though destitute of battlements, the New Town is nearly as
difficult of approach, and as incapable of expansion, as the walled city
itself; for, bounded on its south side by the deep _Tajo_, and to the
west, by an almost equally formidable cliff that branches off from it,
its eastern limits are determined by a rocky ledge that extends
diagonally towards the Guadiaro; thus leaving the access free only on
its north side.
The ground in all directions falls more or less rapidly inwards; and the
town, thus spread over it, assumes the form of an amphitheatre, looking
into the rocky bed of the Guadiaro.
There are three bridges across the river, communicating between the two
towns: the first--a work of the Moors--connects the suburb of San
Miguel, situated at the lowest part of the New Town, with some tanneries
and other buildings standing outside the walls of the ancient city. It
is very narrow, and being thrown over the stream just before it enters
the dark fissure, does not exceed forty feet in height. The second
crosses the chasm at a single span, where its banks have already
attained a considerable elevation, and affords an entrance to the Old
Town by a gateway in the N.E. corner of its present walls. The last and
principal bridge is a noble, though somewhat heavy structure of much
more recent date than the others, and furnishes an excellent specimen of
the bold conception and peculiar taste of the Spaniards of the last
century. It is thrown across the chasm where its precipitous banks have
attained their greatest elevation, and its parapet is 280 feet above the
stream that flows beneath, and nearly 600 above the level of the plain
to which it is hastening.
A bridge was erected at this same spot a hundred years back,[75] which
spanned the frightful fissure in one arch, and must have been one of the
boldest works of the kind, ever (up to that time) undertaken; since its
diameter could not have been less than 150 feet. Unfortunately, the
workmanship was in some way defective, (or more probably the
foundation,) and it fell down but a few years after its completion. The
present structure was then commenced, which, if not so airy and
picturesque as the former must have been, possesses the more solid
qualities of safety and durability.
This bridge also spans the lower portion of the fissure in one arch,
springing from solid buttresses that rest on the rocky bed of the
torrent. But, as the chasm widens rapidly, this first arch is merely
carried sufficiently high to admit of the free passage of the stream at
all seasons, and is then surmounted by a second, of the same span but
much greater elevation; and the massive buttresses on either side are
lightened in appearance by being pierced with arches to correspond--thus
making the bridge consist of three arches above and one below.
The view from the parapet of this bridge is quite enchanting. The
sensation of giddiness that seizes the spectator on first leaning over
the yawning abyss, leaves a feeling of pleasureable excitement, similar
to that produced by a slight shock of a galvanic battery. The distant
roar of the foaming torrent also warns him of his perilous height; but
the solid nature of the bounding wall quickly removes all feeling of
insecurity, and allows him, whilst he rests against it, to enjoy at his
leisure the noble view before him, in which are combined the rich and
varied tints of a southern clime, with the bold outlines and wild
beauties of an Alpine region. The view looking over the Eastern parapet
of the bridge is of a more gloomy character than that from the opposite
side, but is equally grand and imposing. In the bottom of the dark
fissure--which here the sun's rays seldom reach--the transparent rivulet
may be tracked, winding its way leisurely through the tortuous channel;
here and there interrupted in its course by masses of fallen rock, and
partially overshadowed by trees and creepers; whilst its precipitous
banks, from whose rugged surface it might be supposed no vegetation
could possibly spring, are thickly covered with the _higo chumbo_,[76]
(prickly pear) amongst whose thorny boughs numerous ragged urchins may
be seen--almost suspended in air--intent on obtaining their favourite
fruit. Beyond the dark tajo, the sun shines on the green fields and
vineyards of the fertile plain; and yet further behind are the low
wooded sierras that bound the vale of Ronda to the north.
The City can boast of few public buildings to excite the interest of a
stranger. The churches are numerous, and gaudily fitted up; but they
contain neither paintings nor statuary of any merit. In the New Town, on
the other hand, are the Theatre--a small but conveniently fitted up
edifice--the Stables of the _Real Maestranza_;[77] and the _Plaza de los
Toros_; which latter, though not so large as those of the principal
cities of the Province, is certainly one of the handsomest in Spain. It
is built of stone, and nearly of a circular form, and is capable of
containing 10,000 persons. The roof is continued all round; which is not
the case in most amphitheatres; and it is supported by a colonnade of 64
pillars of the Tuscan order. The greatest diameter of the _Arena_ is 190
feet, which is precisely the _width_ of that of the Flavian Amphitheatre
at Rome. The internal economy of the bull-fighting establishment is well
worthy the observation of those who are curious in such matters; being
very complete and well ordered, though not now kept up in the style of
by-gone days.
The two towns together contain about 16,000 inhabitants, who are
principally employed in agricultural and horticultural pursuits; though
there are several manufactories of hats, two or three tanneries, and
numerous water-mills.
Ronda is a place of considerable commerce; its secluded and at the same
time central situation adapting it peculiarly for an emporium for
smuggled goods; in which, it may be said, the present trade of Spain
entirely consists. The vicinity of Gibraltar and Cadiz; the
impracticable nature of the country between those ports and along the
Mediterranean shore; the difficult and intricate mountain paths that
traverse it (known only to the smugglers); and the wretched state of the
national army and Navy; all tend to favour the contraband trade; and
more especially that of Ronda, where the same facilities present
themselves for getting smuggled goods _away from_ the place, as of
bringing them from the coast to it.
It is lamentable blindness on the part of the Spanish
government,--considering the deplorable state of the manufactures of the
country; of the "shipping interest;" of the roads and other means of
inland communication; and, to crown all, I may add, of the
_finances_,--not to see the advantage that would accrue from lowering
the duties on foreign produce; on tobacco, cocoa, and manufactured goods
in particular, which may be considered as absolute necessaries to all
classes of Spaniards. By so doing, not only would the present
demoralising system of smuggling be put an end to,--since it would then
be no longer a profitable business,--but the money which now clings to
the fingers of certain venal authorities of the Customs, or finds its
way into the pockets of the Troops[78] and Sailors employed on the
preventive service, in the way of bribes, would then stand some chance
of reaching the public treasury.
The sums thus iniquitously received (and willingly paid by the
smugglers) amounts to a charge of 15 per cent. on the value of the
prohibited articles; a duty to that amount, or even something beyond,
would therefore readily be paid, to enable the purchaser to take his
goods openly into the market. The trade would thus fall into more
respectable hands; competition would increase; and the sellers would be
satisfied with smaller profits. This would naturally lead to an
increased demand, and the revenue would be proportionably benefited.
The obsolete notions that wed the Spaniards to their present faulty
system are, first, that, by opening the trade to foreign powers, their
own country would be drained of its specie, in which they seem to think
the riches of a nation consist; and secondly, that the national
manufactures would be ruined, if not protected by the imposition of high
duties on those of other countries.
The fallacy of these ideas is evident; for it would not be possible to
devise any plan by which money could be kept in a country, when the
articles that country stands in need of are to be bought cheaper
elsewhere; and it is futile to suppose--as, however, is fondly
imagined--that Spain's doubloons go only to her colonies, to be brought
back in taxation, or for the purchase of the produce of the mother
country. As well might _we_ imagine that Zante alone could furnish
England with her Christmas consumption of Currants, as that Cuba and the
Philippine Islands (all the Colonies worth enumerating that Spain now
possesses) could supply her with tobacco, cocoa, and cinnamon. And, as
the above-mentioned articles are as much necessaries of life in Spain,
as tea and sugar--not to say the aforesaid currants--are in England, the
deficiency, _coute qui coute_, must be made good somewhere; and
consequently Spanish money will have to be expended in procuring what is
wanting.
A much greater evil than this, however, is occasioned by the enormously
high duty placed by the Mother Country on these very articles, the
produce of her dependencies; so that even her own colonial produce is
smuggled to her through the hands of foreigners!
With respect to the favour shown and encouragement given to her own
manufactures, by the prohibitory duties imposed on those of other
nations, it must be evident to any one at all acquainted with the state
of the inland communications of Spain, that the country is not in a
sufficiently advanced state of civilization to warrant its engaging in
such undertakings with any prospect of success. The Factories that are
already in existence cannot supply clothing for one fourth part of the
population of the country; to which circumstance alone are they indebted
for being able to continue at work; for if the number were increased,
all would inevitably fail. The same cause, therefore, here also exists,
to encourage smuggling, as in the case of the consumable articles,
tobacco, spices, &c.--viz. the necessity of finding a supply to meet the
demand.
It is quite surprising that, for such a length of time, and under so
many different administrations, Spain should have continued thus blind
to her own interest. But, without going the length I have suggested,
much good might be effected, by merely giving up the farming out the
taxes and various monopolies, and by putting a stop to sundry other
abuses, such as the sale of places, by which the Crown revenues are
principally raised.
If the present faulty system were abandoned,--by which a few individuals
only are enriched to the prejudice of the rest of the community,--numerous
speculators would be found ready to embark their capitals in mining
operations, in the construction of railroads, canals, &c. which would be
productive of incalculable benefit to the country; for, by such means,
the produce of the fertile plains in the interior of Spain would be
able to come with advantage into the foreign market; whilst the varied
productions of this fruitful country, by being distributed throughout
its provinces with a more equal hand, would be within the reach, and add
to the comforts of all classes of its inhabitants.
At the present day, such is the want of these means of communication,
that it frequently happens an article which is plentifully produced in
one province is absolutely difficult to procure in another. One
province, for instance, has wine, but wants bread; another has corn, but
not any wood; a third abounds in pasture, but has no market for its
cheese, butter, &c., thus rendering the cattle it possesses of
comparatively little value.
From the same cause, large tracts of land lie waste in many parts of
Spain, because the crops they would yield, if cultivated, would not pay
the cost of transport, even to the adjoining province; and a prodigious
quantity of wine is annually destroyed, (a cruel fate from which even
the divine _Val de Peñas_ is not exempt!) because the casks and
pig-skins containing it are of more value, on the spot where the wine is
grown, than is the wine itself. What remains unsold, therefore, at the
end of the year, is frequently poured into the street, in order that the
casks may be available for the new wine.--Such would also be the fate of
all the _light_ wines grown on the banks of the Guadalete, but that the
vicinity of Port St. Mary and Cadiz makes it worth the grower's while to
prepare them with brandy and stronger bodied wines, to bear the rolling
over the Bay of Biscay.
In an article of produce so readily transported as barley, I have known
the price of a _fanega_[79] vary no less than four _reales vellon_[80]
on the opposite sides of the same chain of mountains; and I have seen
Barbary wheat selling at Gibraltar, for one third less than corn of
Spanish growth could be purchased at San Roque. This certainly would not
be the case, if the riches of Spain could be distributed more easily
over the whole face of the country; and since the demand for exportation
would thereby be greatly increased, more industrious habits would be
engendered, and an important step would thus be made towards
civilization.
I must not, however, enlarge on this subject; otherwise, (besides
peradventure wearying my reader) I shall certainly incur the displeasure
of my quondam acquaintances of the Serrania; since any thing that may be
suggested to induce the Spanish government to place the commerce of the
country on a more liberal footing, would be most unfavourably viewed by
the rude inhabitants of the Ronda mountains; who--their present
profitable occupation ceasing--would be obliged to take to their spades
and pruning-knives, and labour for a livelihood in their fields and
olive groves. The inhabitants, however, of the favoured basin of Ronda,
would rather benefit by the change; the produce of their orchards being
so rare, as to be in great request all over the country. It is also
worthy of remark, that, whilst the sugar-cane succeeds on the plains
about Malaga, this elevated mountain valley, situated under the same
parallel of latitude, enjoys a climate that enables it to produce
apples, cherries, plums, peaches, and other stone fruits, that are more
properly natives of central Europe, but which can hardly be excelled
either in England or France.
The climate is also considered so favourable to longevity, that it has
become a common saying in the country--
_En Ronda los hombres_
_de ochenta años son pollones._[81]
But although, even on such tempting terms, one would hardly consent to
pass one's entire life at Ronda, yet I scarcely know a place where a few
weeks may be more agreeably spent. The Inns are not good; though that
bearing the name of the _Holy Trinity_--to which in my various visits I
always bent my steps, until I could find a suitable lodging--is clean,
and its keepers are honest and obliging. Lodgings are abundant, and, for
Spain, very good; the great influx of strangers during the period of
the fair having induced the inhabitants to fit up their houses purposely
for their accommodation, and given them also some notion of what English
travellers require, besides four bare walls, a roof overhead, and a
mattress on the floor; the usual sum total of accommodation furnished at
Spanish inns and lodging-houses.
The society of this place is particularly good; a number of the most
ancient families of Andalusia having congregated here; who, with all the
polish of the first circle of Spanish society, are exempt from the
demoralizing vices which distinguish that of Madrid and other large
cities.
It was only on the occasion of my second visit to the little Capital of
the _Serranía_, that I was so fortunate as to be the bearer of letters
of introduction to the principal families; and nothing could possibly
exceed the kind attentions they pressed upon me. Their friendly
hospitality was even extended, on my account, to all the English
officers who, like myself, had been attracted to Ronda by the fame of
its cattle fair and bull fights, and whom I was requested to invite to
the balls, &c., which at that festive period were given nightly at their
different houses. Nor did their kindness cease there; for I afterwards
received pressing invitations to visit them, as well at Ronda as at the
neighbouring _watering-places_, to which they are in the habit of
resorting during the summer months; for the Spanish fashionables--like
those of other climes--deem it essential to their well being to migrate
periodically to these rendezvous for dancing and dosing.
One of the most _remarkable_ as well as most delightful families of
Ronda, is that of _Holgado y Montezuma_. It is lineally descended from
the last Cacique of Mexico, whose name it bears, and whose character and
features I almost fancied were to be recognized in the somewhat haughty
eye, and occidental cast of countenance, of the present head of the
family.
The lower orders of inhabitants have, amongst travellers, the credit of
being a fierce, intractable race; but this character is by no means
merited, and belongs altogether to the savage mountaineers of the
Serranía. Indeed, these latter hold the industrious artizans, and the
peasants of the city and plain, in great contempt, and it is a common
maledictory expression amongst them--
_En Ronda mueras_
_acarreando zaques._[82]
This saying originated in the occupation of bringing up skins of water
from the bed of the river,--to which labour the christian captives were
condemned, when the city was possessed by the Moslems--and still
continues to be made use of, in allusion to the ignoble life of labour
led by the peaceful inhabitants.
CHAPTER VI.
RONDA FAIR--SPANISH PEASANTRY--VARIOUS COSTUMES--JOCKEYS AND
HORSES--LOVELY VIEW FROM THE NEW ALAMEDA--BULL FIGHTS--DEFENCE OF
THE SPANISH LADIES--MANNER OF DRIVING THE BULLS INTO THE
TOWN--FIRST ENTRANCE OF THE BULL--THE FRIGHTENED WATERSELLER--THE
MINA, OR EXCAVATED STAIRCASE--RUINS OF ACINIPPO--THE CUEVA DEL
GATO--THE BRIDGE OF THE FAIRY.
The fair which is held annually at Ronda, in the month of May, collects
an astonishing concourse of people from all parts of the country, and
offers an excellent opportunity for seeing the peculiar costumes of the
different provinces, as well as for observing the various shades of
character of their respective inhabitants. The national costume,
(speaking generally of it) is, without dispute, extremely becoming; for,
not only does it set off to advantage such as are naturally well formed,
but it conceals the defects of those to whom Dame Nature has been less
kind; making them appear stout, well built fellows--in their own
expressive words, "_bien, plantado_"[83]--when, in point of fact, it
ofttimes happens that their slender legs have enough to do to bear the
weight of the spare and ill-formed bodies placed upon them.
This is very perceptible when, deprived of their broad-brimmed
_Sombreros_ and stout leather _botines_, the peasantry come to be capped
and trousered in a military garb. To a stranger, indeed, it must appear
that the Spanish troops are collected from the very refuse of the
population of the country; so miserable is their look. But the truth is,
the conscription (by which the Army is raised) is levied with great
fairness; and to the change of dress alone, therefore, must the falling
off in their appearance be attributed.
The Spanish peasant, moreover, is the only one in Europe,[84] whose
_tenue_ is not improved by the drill serjeant; which may be accounted
for by his not, like those of other countries, having been accustomed in
his youth to carry burthens upon his _shoulders_. He consequently bends
under the new weight of a musket and knapsack, which, so placed, he
cannot but find particularly irksome.
To return, however, to the crowded city; whilst Ronda fair thus
periodically furnishes the occasion for a general muster of the natives
of all classes, the _Fair_ of Ronda may claim the merit of holding out
to them the inducement to display their figures and wardrobes to the
best advantage; and strange are the ways, and various the means, by
which the Andaluz _Majo_[85] seeks to win the sweet smiles or dazzle the
bright eyes of his tinsel-loving countrywomen.
Amongst the numerous varieties of the genus _Majo_, that claiming the
first rank may be readily known, by the _seeming_ wish to avoid rather
than to court admiration. Thus, the rich waistcoat of bright silk or
costly velvet, studded with buttons innumerable of the most exquisite
gold or silver filigree, is partially concealed, though rendered more
brilliant, by the jacket of dark cloth simply ornamented with black
braid and tags, which is worn over it; whilst the plain white kerchief
that protrudes from either side-pocket requires to be closely examined,
to make the extreme delicacy of its texture apparent.
Others, of more gaudy and questionable taste, hold peagreens and
lavenders to be more becoming; and here and there an ultra dandy may be
seen, aping the bull-fighter, and bedizened with gold and silver lace;
but he is of an inferior caste, and may generally be set down as a
_Chevalier d'Industrie_.
Another class of the genus is distinguished by the glossy jacket of
black goat-skin. The wearers of this singular costume are the
_Ganaderos_, or cattle owners; whilst those satisfied with the more
humble dresses, of brown or white sheep-skin--by no means the least
picturesque of the motley crowd--belong to the shepherd tribe.
The breeches and gaiters undergo as many varieties as those above
specified of the upper garments; but almost all who thus appear in the
national costume wear the _sombrero_, or broad-brimmed hat with a high
conical crown; the _Montera_--a low flat cap, made of black velvet, and
ornamented with silk tassels--being now used only by the bull-fighters,
and some elderly sticklers for old hats as well as old habits.
Many scowling fellows, enveloped in capacious cloaks, seemed to have no
object in view but to examine with searching eyes the persons of the
assembled multitude, and to conceal as much as possible their own from
counter observation; and some of the savage mountaineers,--whom nothing
but a bull fight, or perhaps the hope of plunder, could draw from their
mountain fastnesses,--gave evident signs of never before having seen the
British uniform.
I may observe here, _en passant_, that a few robberies are generally
_heard of_, at the breaking up of the fair; the temptation of well
filled pockets and bales of merchandize drawing all the _ladrones_ of
the surrounding mountains down to the high roads.
The cattle fair is held on a rocky plain beyond the northern limits of
the New Town. It is not so celebrated as some others held on the banks
of the Guadalquivir; the narrow stony tracts across the mountains being
both inconvenient for driving cattle, and injurious to their feet.
Nevertheless, it offers a good opportunity for swapping "a _Haca_,"[86]
though Spanish jockeys--like all others--must be dealt with according to
their own proverb--_à picaro, picaro y medio_.[87] The horses of the
South of Spain are small, hardy animals, well suited to the mountain
roads of the country, but possessing no claims to beauty, beyond a
lively head and a sleek coat. The Spaniards, by the way, have a strange
prejudice in favour of _Roman-nosed_ horses. They not only admire the
_Cabeza de Carnero_, (sheep's head) as they call it, but maintain that
it is a certain indication of the animal being a "good one." I presume,
therefore, the protuberance must be the organ of _ambulativeness_.
I was much mortified to find that "Almanzor," whose finely finished
head, straight forehead, sparkling eye, and dilated nostril, I certainly
thought entitled him to be considered the handsomest of his kind in the
fair, was looked upon as a very ordinary animal.
_No ai vasija que mida los gustos, ni balanza que los iguale_,[88] as
Guzman de Alfarache says; and my taste will certainly be disputed in
other matters besides horseflesh by all Spaniards, when I confess to
having frequently retired from the busy throng of the fair, or abstained
from witnessing the yet more exciting bull fight, to enjoy, without fear
of interruption, the lovely view obtained from the shady walks of the
new _Alameda_.[89] This delightful promenade is situated at the further
extremity of the modern town, overhanging the precipice which has been
mentioned as bounding it to the west. The view is similar to that
obtained from the parapet of the bridge; but here, the eye ranges over a
greater extent of country, commanding the whole of the southern portion
of the fertile valley, and taking in the principal part of the mountain
chain that encompasses it.
For hours together have I sat on the edge of the precipice, receiving
the refreshing westerly breeze, and feasting my eyes on the beauteous
scene beneath; tracing the windings of the serpent streamlet, and
watching the ever-changing tints and shadows, cast by the sun on the
deeply-furrowed sides of the mountains, as he rolled on in his diurnal
course. All nature seemed to be at rest; not a human being could be seen
throughout the wide vale; not a sound came up from it, save now and then
the bay of some vigilant watch dog, or the call of the parent partridge
to her infant brood. Its carefully irrigated gardens, its neatly trimmed
vineyards, and, here and there, a low white cottage peeping through
blossoming groves of orange and lemon trees, bore evidence of its being
fertilized by the hand of man: but where are its inhabitants? nay, where
are those of the city itself, whose boisterous mirth but lately rent the
air! All is now silent as the grave: the cries of showmen have ceased.
The tramp of horses and the lowing of cattle are heard no longer; the
Thebaic St. Anthony himself could not have been more solitary than I
found myself.--But, hark. What sound is that? a buz of distant _vivas_
is borne through the air!--It proceeds from the crowded circus--the
_Matador_ has made a successful thrust--his brave antagonist bites the
dust, and he is rewarded with a shower of _pesetas_,[90] and those cries
of triumph!--I regret not having missed witnessing his prowess! but the
declining sun tells me that my retreat is about to be invaded; the
glorious luminary sinks below the horizon, and the walk is crowded with
the late spectators of the poor bull's last agonies.
"_Jesus!_[91] _Don Carlos_"--would exclaim many of my bright-eyed
acquaintances--"why were you not at the Bull fight?"--"I could not
withdraw myself from this lovely spot."--"Well, _no ai vasija que mida
los gustos_.... You might see this at any other time." There was no
replying to such an indisputable fact, but by another equally
incontrovertible--viz.--"The sun sets but once a day."
The Bull-fights of Ronda are amongst the best of Spain; the animals
being selected from the most pugnacious breeds of Utrera and Tarifa;
the _Picadores_ from the most expert horsemen of Xeres and Cordoba; the
_Matadores_ from the most skilful operators of Cadiz and Seville; and
the whole arrangement of the sports being under the superintendence of
the Royal _Maestranza_. During the fair there are usually three
Corridas,[92] at each of which, eight bulls are slaughtered.
A Bull-fight has been so often described that I will content myself with
offering but very few remarks upon the disgusting, barbarous, exciting,
interesting sport,--for such it successively becomes, to those who can
be persuaded to witness it a second, third, and fourth time.
In the first place, I cannot admit, that it is a bit more cruel than an
English bull-bait (I speak only from hearsay of the latter), or more
disgusting than a pugilistic contest; which latter, whatever pity it may
occasion to see human nature so debased, can certainly possess little to
_interest_ the spectator, beyond the effect its termination will have
upon his _betting-book_.
Oh!--I hear many of my countrymen exclaim--"I do not complain so much of
the cruelty practised on the bulls, or the dangers incurred by the men.
The former were made to be killed for our use; the latter are free
agents, and enter the arena from choice. I feel only for the poor
horses, exposed to be gored and tortured by an infuriated animal,
without a chance of ultimate escape." Doubtless, the sufferings endured
by the poor horses are very disgusting to witness; but it is merely
because _we see_ their agonies, that we feel so acutely for them. Before
we condemn the Spaniards, therefore, let us look again at the amusements
of our own country, and _consider_ how many birds every sportsman dooms
to linger in the excruciating torments of a broken leg or wing, or some
painful bodily wound, for each one that he kills!--"But recollect,"
rejoins my Interlocutor, "recollect the difference between a bird and
such a _noble animal_ as a horse!"--Certes, I reply, a horse is a nobler
looking beast than a pheasant or a wild duck; but just observe the
wretchedness of our own decayed equinine nobility, standing in Trafalgar
Square and other rendezvous of cabs and hackney coaches!--Would it not
be comparative charity to end their sufferings by half an hour's
exposure in the Arena?
I must next throw my gauntlet into the arena in behalf of the Spanish
Ladies, who I maintain are vilely aspersed by those who have represented
them as taking pleasure in the tortures inflicted on the unfortunate
horses, and as expressing delight at the jeopardy in which the lives of
the bull's human persecutors are sometimes placed.
On such occasions, I have on the contrary remarked, that they always
retired to the back part of their box, or, if they could not do that,
turned their heads away in disgust or alarm.
It may be said, that they have no business at such exhibitions. Very
true--but surely some allowance is due, considering their want of such
breakneck sights as horse-races and steeple-chases? And,--apart the
cruelty to the animals,--I see no greater harm in the Spanish Lady's
attendance at a Bull-fight, than our fair country-woman's witnessing
such national sports.--The _Toreadores_[93] are certainly not exposed to
greater risks than the jockeys and gentlemen whom taste or avocation
leads daily to encounter the dangers of the field, for the entertainment
of the public!
At the numerous bull-fights I have witnessed--for I must plead guilty to
having become an _aficionado_[94]--I saw but four men hurt, and who can
say as much, that has hunted regularly throughout the season with a pack
of fox-hounds? or, that has walked the streets of London for a week,
since cabs and omnibuses have been introduced?
Certainly, it is not unusual to hear female voices cry, "_Bravo toro!_"
when some fierce bull has, at his first sweep round the circle, borne
down all the horsemen opposed to him; and then, maddened with pain, and
flushed with victory, but unable to attain his human tormentors, (who,
in spite of the ponderous weight of cuirasse, boot leather, and padding
that encumbers them, always manage to hobble off to a place of refuge)
rushes upon the poor blindfold, abandoned horses; which, with just
sufficient strength to get upon their legs, stand trembling in the
centre of the Arena, quite conscious of their danger, but not knowing
which way to avoid it, and thus, one by one, fall victims to the rage of
their infuriated enemy.--On such occasions, I repeat, I have heard such
encouraging cries proceed from female lips; but he who asserts that they
have been uttered by a Spanish _Lady_ can be classed only with _Monsieur
Pillet_, (I think that was the _quinze jours à Londres_ gentleman's
name) who stated that all English Ladies _boxed_ and drank brandy.
The most amusing part of the sport afforded by the Bulls is the driving
them into the town. This is done at night, and the following is the
method adopted. The animals, having been conducted from their native
pastures to the vale of Ronda, are left to graze upon the sides of the
mountains, until the night preceding the first day's _corrida_; when a
number of persons--of whom a large proportion are amateurs--proceed from
the city, armed with long lances, to drive them into their destined
slaughterhouse. The weapons, however, are more for show than use; since
the savage animals are decoyed, rather than goaded, into the snare
prepared for them. To effect this, some tame animals are intermixed with
the new comers on their first arrival; and these, trained by human
devices in all the ways of deceit, lead them off to slake their thirst
at the purest rill, and point out to them the tenderest pasture
wherewith to satisfy their hunger. The unsuspecting strangers, trusting
to the _pundonor_ of their new friends, abandon themselves to a Cupuan
enjoyment of the delights of this fertile region, and perceive not the
host of human foes that, under shelter of the night, are stealthily
encircling them. The investment completed, a horseman rides forward to
attract the attention of their treacherous brethren, who trot off after
him, followed by the whole herd. The rest of the horsemen now close upon
their rear, urging the bulls forward with loud shouts and blazing
torches; and, following close upon the heels of their leader, the
wonder-struck animals enter the town at a brisk pace and in compact
order. The cross streets having been strongly barricaded, the _avant
courier_ of the _Calbalgada_ proceeds straight to the court-yard
attached to the amphitheatre, the entrance to which alone has been left
open, and forthwith ensconces himself in a stable. The savage brutes,
bewildered by the strangeness of the scene, the blaze of lights and din
of voices, make no attempts either at escape or resistance, but, blindly
following his track, enter the court-yard, the gate of which is
immediately closed upon them.
A number of doors are now thrown open, which communicate with a large
apartment boarded off into narrow stalls. Into these but one bull at a
time can enter, and each of the decoy animals, selecting a separate
entrance, is quickly followed by two or three of the strangers. The tame
animal is permitted to pass through the narrow passage and escape at the
other end; but the unhappy victims of his toils, in attempting to follow
his footsteps, find their progress impeded by stout bars let down from
above, and are thus finally and securely installed.
Under this unpleasant restraint they continue until their services are
required in the arena; and during this brief period they are open to the
inspection of the curious, who can examine them at their ease from the
apartment above, the planking of the floor being left open for the
express purpose.
When the hour of the bull is come, the front bar of his prison is
withdrawn, a goad from above urges him forward, and, rushing from his
dark cell into the broad daylight, the astonished animal finds himself
at once in the _Arena_ and within a few paces of a _Picador's_ lance,
couched ready to receive his attack.
Some rush upon their enemy without a moment's hesitation; and I have not
unfrequently seen a valiant bull overthrow the four _picadores_ placed
at intervals round the circus, in less than that number of minutes. But,
in general, the animal pauses ere making his first onset--looks round
with amazement at the assembled multitude--paws up the dusty surface of
the arena--appears bewildered at the novelty of the sight and by the din
of voices,--and is undecided where to make the first attack. At length,
his eye rests on the nearest picador, and it is seldom withdrawn until
he has made his charge. He rushes on his enemy with his head erect,
lowering it only when arrived within a few paces. The picador gives
point to receive him on the fleshy part of the neck above the right
shoulder; and, if his horse be steady, he generally succeeds in turning
the bull off. But should the bull, regardless of his wound, return
immediately to the attack, the man has not time to resume his defensive
position, and his only safety is in ignominious flight. If his steed be
quick in answering the spur, he is soon removed from danger, but, if
otherwise, nine times in ten both horse and rider are laid prostrate.
Whilst in confinement, the bulls are decorated with the colours of their
respective breeders (a bunch of ribbon, attached to a dart, which is
forced into the animal's shoulder); and such as appear tame, and hold
out small promise of sport, are often "ingeniously tormented" previously
to being turned into the arena. I have heard also that it is not
unusual, when the circus is small, and the _Toreadores_ are not very
expert, to weaken the animal's powers by letting a weight fall upon his
back, so as to injure the spine; but this refinement of cruelty is
certainly not practised at Ronda.
It doubtless requires the possession of some courage to be a
bull-fighter; though at the same time it is to be recollected, that the
people who devote themselves to the profession have been brought up,
from their earliest youth, amongst the horns of these animals, and have
thus acquired a knowledge of all their peculiarities; they are
consequently aware, that the bull's furious onset requires but a little
activity to be readily avoided, and they have by long habit become
quick-sighted to take advantage of his blind rage, for striking their
blow. But, above all, their confidence is increased by knowing with what
ease the attention of the bull is drawn off; and no Picador or Matador
ever ventures into the arena unattended by one _Chulo_,[95] at least;
who, provided with a gaudy coloured flag or cloak, stands near at hand
to occupy the bull's attention, should his opponent have met with any
accident.
I once witnessed a laughable instance--as it turned out--of the ease
with which a bull's attention may be diverted. An _Aguador_, or
water-seller, had taken post in the narrow passage which serves as a
retreat for the bull-fighters when hard pressed, between the front row
of seats and the Arena, and, unconscious of danger, was vending his iced
liquid to the thirsty spectators--pouring it with singular dexterity
from a huge jar made fast to his back into their outstretched
goblets--when a bull, following close upon the heels of a _Chulo_, leapt
the five-foot barrier, and came with his fore legs amongst the front row
spectators, but, unable to make good his footing, fell back into the
narrow passage. The _Chulo_, by vaulting back into the Arena, readily
escaped from the enraged animal, which, not having space to turn round,
face and re-leap the barrier, found himself a prisoner within the narrow
passage. Very different, however, was the situation of the venturous
_Aguador_, who, labouring under his weighty liquid incubus, could not
possibly have clambered over the fence, even had time permitted of his
making the attempt. But, so far from that being the case, the bull
having instantly recovered his legs, was coming trotting and bellowing
towards him, with the most felonious intentions. The spectators shouted
with all their might to the luckless water-seller, _to save himself_;
alas! how was he to do so?--a single glance over his right shoulder
convinced him of the vainness of the admonition! Instinct prompted him
to run; but escape appeared impossible; for the horns of the rabid
animal were within a few feet of him, and every barrier was closed!
In this awful predicament, fright made him take the only step that could
possibly have saved him--namely, a _false one_. He stumbled, groaned,
and fell flat upon his face. The bull, without slacking his speed,
stooped down to give him his _quietus_; when a peasant--one of the
spectators--having tied his pocket-handkerchief to the end of his
_porra_,[96] dangled it before the animal's eyes just as he reached the
fallen _Aguador_. The enraged bull, making a toss at the new object thus
placed before him, bounded over the prostrate water-carrier, without
doing any other injury than breaking his jar with his hind feet, and
proceeded on to complete the tour of the circus.
The fright of the fortunate vender of water was excessive, and _now_
most ludicrous. The liquid poured in torrents over his shoulders and
down his neck, leading him to believe that he had been most desperately
gored, and that it was his life's blood which was--not oozing out of,
but--absolutely deluging him. He screamed most lustily that he was a
dead man; and the spectators, highly amused at the scene, cried out in
return, "Get up--get up, or you'll be drowned!" But, until some of the
_Chulos_ came to his aid, and put him on his legs, he could not be
persuaded that he had escaped without even a scratch.
He lost no time, however, in putting the power of his limbs to the
proof, running off as fast as they could carry him, to escape from the
jeers of the crowd, who, amidst roars of laughter, shouted after him,
"What a gash!"--"I can see right through his body."--"The Bull is
swimming after you!"--"_Toro! Toro!_" &c.
We will now leave the Amphitheatre, and proceed to visit one of the most
interesting sights of the ancient city--namely, an extraordinary
staircase, or _Mina_ as it is called by the natives, which, sunk close
to the edge of the chasm dividing the two towns, communicates with the
rocky bed of the river.
It is said to have been a work of Abou Melic, the first king of Ronda,
and was clearly undertaken to ensure a supply of water to the city in
the event of a siege;--the want of this indispensable article being, in
those early days, the only dread the inattackable fortress had to guard
against.
The entrance to the _Mina_ is in the garden attached to a gentleman's
house at a little distance from, and to the east of, the principal
bridge.
The descent, according to our Cicerone's information, was formerly
effected by 365 steps, cut in the live rock; but, at the present day, it
would defy the powers of numbers to reckon them, the greater part of the
staircase being in so ruinous a condition as to be barely practicable. I
should suppose, however, the depth of the _Mina_, from its mouth to the
bed of the river, is about 250 feet. It pierces the solid rock, in
short and very irregular zig-zags, for about two thirds the distance
down, when, entering a natural rent in the cliff, the remaining portion
is built up from the bottom of the chasm with large blocks of stone;
advantage having been taken of a lateral projection, to cover this
artificial facing from an enemy's projectiles.
At various levels, passages lead off from the staircase into spacious
and curiously arched apartments, to which light is admitted by narrow
casements opening into the chasm or tajo. This subterranean edifice is
supposed to have been a palace of the Moorish kings.
On the side walls of the narrow, crooked staircase, are numerous rudely
engraved crosses, which our conductor assured us were wrought by the
hands of the Christian captives who, during the last siege of the place,
were employed in bringing up water for the use of the garrison, and
whose oft-repeated signs of faith, thus lightly marked by their passing
hands, had miraculously left these deep impressions on the hard stone.
"Nor"--added he--"did such proofs of their devotion go unrewarded even
in this world, for their liberation quickly followed; the until then
unconquered city having been wrested from the Mohammedans after only a
few weeks' siege."--The chains of these good Christians were sent to
Toledo, in one of the churches of which city they may yet be seen.
Various other remarkable legends are related of this wonderful place;
which, however, I will pass over, to say a few words of other objects
worthy of observation in the vicinity of the city.
Of these, the most interesting to the Antiquary are the ruins of the
Roman city of Acinippo,[97] which lie scattered on the side of a
mountain on the left of the road to Seville by way of Olbera, and
distant about ten miles N.W. from Ronda. Some of the Spanish Geographers
persist in calling it _Ronda la vieja_, (old Ronda,) but certainly on no
good grounds, since no place bearing the comparatively modern name of
Ronda could well be of older date than the present city itself.
In the time of Carter, the venerable ruins of Acinippo could boast of
containing an Amphitheatre and the foundations of several spacious
temples, all in tolerable preservation; but these are now barely
perceptible; and the statues, pavements, in fact, every thing considered
worth removing, has long since been carried to Ronda.
Numerous Roman coins are daily turned up by the plough, as it passes
over the streets of the ancient city, and Cameos, intaglios, and other
more valuable relics, may be procured occasionally from the peasants
dwelling in the neighbourhood.
But, though scarcely one stone of Acinippo now rests upon another, still
the view from the site is of itself a sufficient reward for the trouble
of scrambling to the summit of the mountain; whence, on a clear day, it
is said that even Cadiz may be seen.
Deep in the valley, on the opposite or eastern side, flows the principal
source of the Guadelete, (water of _Lethe_) which the Spaniards maintain
is the _real_ river of _Oblivion_ of the ancients. Where the fertilizing
stream flows amongst the vineyards of Xeres, it probably has often
proved so without any fable.
On the bank of this rivulet stands the little castellated town of
Setenil; famous in Moorish history, as having defied all the efforts of
the Christians to subdue it, until the ponderous lombards of Ferdinand
and Isabella were brought to bear with unerring aim upon its rock-based
battlements. A.D. 1484.
Within another morning's ride from Ronda is a very remarkable cavern, in
the side of a lofty mountain, about five miles to the S.W. of the city,
and known by the name of the _Cueva del Gato_ (Cat's cave). The
entrance to it is some way up the face of a scarped wall of rock, that
falls along the right bank of the Guadiaro, and can be gained only by
those whose heads and feet are proof against the dizzy and slippery
perils to be encountered; the ascent being over a pile of rough granite
blocks, moistened by the spray of a foaming torrent that gushes out of
the narrow cavity. These difficulties surmounted, the cavern itself is
tolerably practicable, and the stream flows more tranquilly, though
still here and there obstructed by blocks of stone. After penetrating
some way into the interior, an opening of considerable width presents
itself, where a ruined building of very ancient date is observable. It
is said to owe its foundation to the Romans, and to have been a temple
dedicated to the infernal deities. Rumour alleges that in later times it
has served as a refuge for banditti. To proceed further, it is necessary
to be well supplied with torches: with their aid I was informed the
cavern is practicable for a great distance.
The stream to which this cavern gives a passage, takes its rise in a
wooded basin, situated on the opposite side the mountain ridge, from
whence the waters of all the other valleys are led off in a northerly
direction to the Guadalete. This eccentric little rivulet directs its
course, however, to the south, reaches the foot of a high-peaked mount
that overlooks the village of Montejaque, and there, its course being
obstructed by the solid rock, betakes itself once more to the earth,
filtering its way for upwards of a mile through the mountain, and
finally discharging itself into the Guadiaro[98] by the mouth of the
_Cueva del gato_.
The Cavern is said to have received its name from the wonderful feat of
a cat, which, put into the fissure by which the stream disappears from
the surface of the ground, reached the other entrance with one of its
lives yet unexhausted.
Numerous other delightful excursions may be made from Ronda, up the
ravines in the surrounding mountains; and, should the sports of the
field possess attractions, the country is noted for its abundance of
game of all kinds; from quails and red-legged partridges, to wild boars,
deer, and wolves.
In following this pursuit, chance one morning directed my footsteps
along the edge of the precipice, that (as I have already mentioned,)
bounds the New town to the west, and which, describing a wide circle,
and gradually losing something of its height, once more closes upon the
Guadiaro, about a mile below the city.
The space that nature has thus singularly walled in, and sunk beneath
the rest of the vale of Ronda, is richly clad with gardens and
vineyards; and the little stream, having disengaged itself from the dark
chasm that divides the two towns, here once more slackens its pace, to
luxuriate under refreshing groves of orange, citron, and pomegranate
trees. Arrived, however, at the southern extremity of this basin, the
rocky ledge on which I found myself standing again presents an obstacle
to the tranquil flow of the crystal stream, and it hurries fretfully
through a narrow defile, of the same wild character as that in which it
received its birth; the banks being thickly clothed with the endless
varieties of the cistus, and shadowed by the dense and sombre foliage of
the ilex and wild olive.
Beyond this, a glen of somewhat more easy access presents itself, and
the river is spanned by a light but firmly-knit arch, that bears the
romantic name of the _Puente del Duende_, or, the Bridge of the Fairy.
So sequestered is this spot--for it is some distance from any public
road--that the little bridge, though well known to the country people,
is seldom visited by strangers; and indeed its leafy canopy is so
impervious, that, until arrived at the very brink of the precipice
overlooking the dell, it is not possible either to discover the bridge
or to trace the further progress of the river itself, which, by its
tortuous course, seems loth to leave the lovely valley that has grown
rich under its fostering care.
The mountains beyond appear equally unwilling that the beauteous basin
should lose its benefactor; presenting themselves in such confused and
successive masses, and in such intricate forms, as seem to preclude the
possibility of the little stream ever finding its way through them to
the Mediterranean.
Conspicuous above all the other points of this serrated range, is the
_Pico de San Cristoval_,--said in the country to be the first land made
by Columbus on his return from the discovery of the New World. Certain
it is, that this peak,--called also _La Cabeza del Moro_ (Moor's
head)--can be seen at an immense distance. I myself, from the blue
Atlantic, have traced its faint outline reaching far above the horizon,
when the low land about Cadiz, though comparatively near, could not even
be discerned.
In following the course of the stream, however, I have been carried far
below the Fairy's Bridge, to which it is time I should retrace my steps.
The narrow little structure serves, at this day, merely as a point of
passage to a mill, situated on the left bank of the rivulet; from
whence long trains of pig-skin laded mules convey almost as constant, if
not so copious a stream, of oil and wine, _over_ the bridge, as that of
water which flows beneath it. The hills that rise at the back of the
mill--and which in our more level country would be called mountains--are
clad to their very summits with vineyards and olive groves--the sources
of this gladdening and fattening stream. There was, nevertheless, an air
of solitude, and even of mystery, about the spot, that greatly excited
my curiosity. The reckless muleteers devoutly crossed themselves ere
they ventured to pass over the little bridge; some even prostrated
themselves before a crucifix rudely carved in wood that stood
overhanging it. The more timid goatherds drove their flocks far away
from the holy spot; and those whom I questioned concerning it gave me to
understand, that the less they said and I inquired on the subject, the
better for all parties.
The owner of the mill, without being quite so reserved, was equally
mysterious; saying that, though in this sceptical age many persons were
disposed to regard the wonderful things related of the place as mere
_cuentas de viejas_--i. e. old women's tales--yet that he could vouch
for their truth, and, whilst it would be unbecoming in him (as Herodotus
said before him) to disclose _all_ he knew, this much he _could_
say,--that it would be dangerous for most people to dwell as near the
enchanted spot as he did. "But," added he, throwing open his shirt and
exposing what I learnt was a piece of a black dog's skin, that he wore
suspended from a rosary at his breast, "this is a sovereign charm
against all manner of witchcraft."
I afterwards discovered that the olive-grinding rogue was a notorious
smuggler, and kept his contraband goods concealed in what are supposed
to be haunted caverns, under his habitation, secure from the search of
superstitious _Aduaneros_.[99]
My curiosity still further excited by the difficulty experienced in
gratifying it, I applied for information touching the Fairy's Bridge to
my friend Don ---- ----, who referred me to _El Padre Canonigo, Don Apodo
Fulano_, adding laughingly, "You will be amused at the worthy father's
serious manner of relating the story; but I can assure you,--divesting
it of the marvellous,--it is not _todo cisco y carbon, como tesoro de
duende_."[100]
To the _Padre_ I forthwith bent my steps; and the following chapter
contains his account of the _Puente del Duende_, which I give as nearly
as possible in his own words.
CHAPTER VII.
LEGEND OF THE FAIRY'S BRIDGE.
"_My companions said to me, 'Do you visit her monument?' but I
answered, 'Where but in my heart should she have a tomb?'_"
ARABIC ELEGY.
You must know, Don Carlos, commenced the worthy Padre, "_con voz
reposada y clara_"[101]--You must know, that the bridge you have just
visited has usurped the name it bears, which was given to a much more
extraordinary structure--if such it may be called--that formerly
occupied its place; or, I should rather say, that was situated near the
present edifice; for the supernatural bridge of which I am about to
speak was thrown across the ravine somewhat lower down the stream;
where, as you may have observed, the cliff on the left bank falls quite
perpendicularly along the river, and is at this day entirely overgrown
with ivy.
This bridge was formed of a single tree; a huge _acebuche_[102]--a tree
often employed as an agent in working miracles--which, having grown for
ages on the brink of the precipice, was one night marvellously felled to
the earth. That it had been prostrated by supernatural means was
evident; for the trunk bore no marks of the axe; and though still
adhering to the stump by the bark and some slight fibres, yet it had
been most curiously blackened and charred; whilst a wild vine, which
(having entwined itself gracefully round its wide-spreading branches)
had accompanied it in his fall, remained unscorched, and seemed to have
been purposely left unhurt, to serve as a hand-rope to steady the
footsteps of the venturous passenger over the tremulous bridge.
The further extremity of the tree rested on a ledge that projected
slightly from the opposite cliff; above which, a fissure in the rock
appeared to lead into a dark cavern. But so curiously was the rustic
bridge balanced, that as sure as any mortal attempted to cross by it to
the opposite side of the river, so sure was he to be precipitated into
the abyss below.
It is supposed that this chink in the cliff had served to admit light
and air to some spacious caverns which, in remote times, had been formed
in the rocks, and from which a rude staircase had communicated with a
_quinta_, or country house, situated in the midst of the vineyards and
olive grounds that clothe the hill side. But of these, Don Carlos, no
vestige now remains; indeed all traces of them were lost soon after the
occurrence of the events I am about to relate.
The last possessor of this villa was a wealthy Moor--Abenhabuz by
name--of the tribe of the Ganzules, and one of the most distinguished
_Alfaquies_ of the proud city of Ronda. To the treachery of this Moor
the capture of the Moslem stronghold by the Catholic kings[103] was
mainly attributed; for the bravery of its _Alcaide_, the strength of its
garrison, and the triple circuit of walls by which in those days its
assailable points were defended, rendered it too formidable a post even
for such indomitable spirits as Ferdinand and Isabella to think of
attacking. But Hamet Zeli, surnamed _El Zegri_, the fierce governor of
Ronda, dreamed not of treason, and least of all did he suppose that
Abenhabuz, his bosom friend, could betray him. But what will not envy
stoop to do? He was persuaded by his deceitful confidant that the
Spaniards were laying close siege to Malaga, and that a most favourable
opportunity thereby was presented for making a foray in their country.
Sallying forth, therefore, with his brave _Gomeles_--the principal
strength of the garrison--El Zegri crossed the mountains to the
westward of the city, and fell upon the unprotected country round Arcos
and Xeres de la Frontera.
Ferdinand and Isabella were quickly informed of his departure from
Ronda, and, breaking up their camp before Malaga without loss of time,
pressed forward through the rugged and now unguarded defiles of El
Burgo, to seize upon their prey.
El Zegri, loaded with plunder, and breathing further vengeance, bent his
steps also towards his sequestered fortress; little, however,
anticipating the blow that awaited him. It was only at his bivouac in
the dark cork forest under the lofty _Sierra del Pinar_ that the thunder
of the Castillian artillery burst upon his astounded ear.--He mounted
his courser in all haste, and, dashing forward with mad speed, stopped
not until he had gained the pass of _Montejaque_. You see it there, Don
Carlos, (said the Padre, pointing to a deep gap in the summit of the
serrated ridge that bounds the basin of Ronda to the west) it is still
known in the country as _El Puerto del Pasmo del Moro_.[104]--What a
sight there met his eager, searching eye! The proud city entrusted to
his care, hemmed in on all sides by Christian lances!--the sumptuous
mosques and stately palaces of his ancestors, crumbling to dust, under
the all-destroying projectiles of the implacable enemies of his
creed!--A cry of rage burst from him; but his prudence even in that
trying moment did not forsake him. Checking his advancing troops, so as
to keep them out of sight of the beleaguering army, he sent forward a
trusty messenger, who, gaining admission to the Fortress, cheered its
feeble garrison with the news of his being at hand, and of his intention
to force his way into the city during the night. But Abenhabuz took care
to have this information conveyed to the besiegers; and El Zegris' bold
attempt was consequently foiled.
The inhabitants, seeing all hope of relief now cut off, their store of
provisions nearly exhausted, and large gaps formed in the walls of their
until-now unconquered city, deemed it prudent to negotiate for a
capitulation; and the sagacious Ferdinand, aware that El Zegri was still
in the field--that the place could yet hold out some weeks--that his own
supplies might be cut off,--and that to carry the city by storm would be
attended with immense loss of life,--willingly granted most favourable
terms; the garrison and inhabitants were permitted to depart with all
their effects; such of them as chose to remain in Spain having even
lands assigned to them, and being permitted the free exercise of their
religion.
But whilst the wily Ferdinand hesitated not to grant these liberal
terms, yet, as in duty bound, he forthwith transmitted to Rome a formal
declaration of his resolve to extirpate the abominable heresy of
Mohammed from his dominions, whenever a fitting opportunity should
occur; thus piously reserving to himself the right of infringing the
terms of capitulation, wherever his doing so should seem most conducive
to the interests of our holy religion.
The traitor Abenhabuz, besides the indulgences granted by the terms of
the surrender, was, as the price of his treason, permitted to reside
within the city, and to retain possession of his estates. But some years
after, (when, by the capture of Granada, the Catholic Monarchs were
relieved from all apprehension of evil consequences ensuing from
carrying their long meditated plans into effect) he, as well as the
other Moslems who had chosen to remain in Spain, was offered the
alternative of Christianity or expatriation. He balanced not in the
choice; but forthwith repairing to the altar of Our Lady of griefs,
declared himself a convert to the true faith.
In consequence of this act--with the piety and generosity which have at
all times distinguished the Spanish nation above all others--the Moor
was graciously allowed to keep possession of the lovely _quinta_ and its
surrounding vineyards; the rest of his vast estates being made
over--for the good of his soul--as an expiatory offering to the
chivalric brotherhood of Santiago.
Abenhabuz retired to his country retreat, accompanied only by his
daughter, the beauteous Hinzára; for his sons--true scions of an Arabic
stock--chose rather to seek a home on the parched shores of Africa, than
abandon the accursed dogmas of their Prophet.
Hinzára was the youngest of the Moor's children, and the sole issue of a
Christian maiden who had been captured in a foray some time previous to
the fall of Ronda, and who--meditating his future treason--Abenhabuz had
considered it conducive to his interest to marry.
At the period of his expulsion from the city, his wife had been dead
some time, and his daughter had just reached the age when a maiden's
footsteps most require the guidance of a mother's care. But Hinzára was
a being of no common order. The rosebud bursting through the petals of
its mossy calyx, spreading its delicious fragrance to the summer breeze,
exceeds not more in loveliness every other flower of the field, than the
beauty of Hinzára surpassed that of all the maidens of the
neighbourhood. To you, Don Carlos, whose eyes are daily feasted on the
charms of our comely Andalusians, it will suffice to say, that in the
daughter of Abenhabuz were combined the regular features and soft
expression of the dark-eyed _Malagueña_; the blooming cheek and polished
brow of the fair _Serrana_[105] of Casarabonela; and the form and
carriage of the graceful _Gaditana_![106] Her person, in fact, was a
bouquet, of the choicest flowers culled from this our Hesperian garden;
whilst her mind might be likened to a book, in which, as in the pages of
our incomparable Cervantes, were to be found united the most brilliant
wit, the soundest discretion, the purest sentiment, and the nicest
judgment.
Courted by all the principal chieftains of the day--Spaniards as well as
Moriscoes--Hinzára appeared alike regardless of their adulation, and
unmoved by their importunity. But the Moorish maiden was not insensible,
and--unknown to all besides--had pledged her hand to a noble Biscayian
youth, long the possessor of her guileless heart.
The ancestors of Don Ramiro--for such was her lover's
appellation--though rich in deeds of renown, had left him little else
than an untarnished sword, to support the glorious names of Segastibelza
y Bigorre which he inherited from them. And besides his poverty, Hinzára
had other reasons (which will be stated as I proceed with my tale) to
fear that her father's consent to their union would not be easily
obtained.
Abenhabuz was, to all appearance, fully sensible of the generosity that
had been so manifestly shown to him; and though now the possessor of but
the few vineyards and olive grounds that encircled his _quinta_, he was
nevertheless generally considered a wealthy man:--a reputation for which
he was as much indebted to his imagined knowledge of Alchymy, as for the
hords he was supposed to have collected during a long life of rapine and
plunder.
This character for wealth, whilst it excited the cupidity of many,
secured to him the protection of the governor of Ronda, Don Guiterre
Mondejar; who, captivated by the charms of the beauteous Hinzára, hoped,
together with her hand, to obtain, what he coveted yet more, the
imaginary treasures of the Alchymist.
The crafty Moor readily promised him the immediate possession of the
one, and the inheritance of the other; but he had no intention of
fulfil
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