Excursions in the mountains of Ronda and Granada, with characteristic sketches of the inhabitants of southern Spain, vol. 2/2
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Title: Excursions in the mountains of Ronda and Granada, with characteristic sketches of the inhabitants of southern Spain, vol. 2/2
Author: C. Rochfort Scott
Release date: September 12, 2013 [eBook #43705]
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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. 2/2 ***
Produced by Ann Jury and the Online Distributed Proofreading
Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from
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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; every thing/everything; Our's/Ours; Codoba/Cordoba;
sanitory/sanitary; your's/yours; janty/jaunty; visiters/visitors;
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[Illustration: CASTLE OF XIMENA, AND DISTANT VIEW OF GIBRALTAR
_On Stone by T. J. Rawlins from a Sketch by Capt C. R. Scott_
_R. Martin lithog 26, Long Acre_
_Published by Henry Colburn, 13 Great 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. II.
LONDON:
HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER,
GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
1838.
LONDON:
F. SHOBERL, JUN. 51, RUPERT STREET, HAYMARKET.
CONTENTS
OF
THE SECOND VOLUME.
PAGE
CHAPTER I.
Departure from Cordoba--Post Road to
Cadiz--Carlota--Ecija--Carmona--Road from Ecija to
Gibraltar--Locusts--Osuna--Saucejo--An Olla in
perfection--Ronda--Splendid Scenery on the road to Grazalema--Distant
View of Zahara--Grazalema--Extensive Prospect from the Pass of
Bozal--Secluded Orchards of Benamajama--Pajarete--El
Broque--Ubrique--Difficult Road across the Mountains to Ximena--Our
Guide in a rage--Fine Scenery--Ximena--Strength of its Castle--Road to
Gibraltar 1
CHAPTER II.
Departure for Cadiz--Road round the Bay of Gibraltar--Algeciras--Sandy
Bay--Gualmesi--Tarifa--Its Foundation--Error of Mariana in supposing it
to be Carteia--Battle of El Salado--Mistake of La Martiniere concerning
it--Itinerary of Antoninus from Carteia to Gades verified--Continuation
of Journey--Ventas of Tavilla and Retin--Vejer--Conil--Spanish Method of
Extracting Good from Evil--Tunny Fishery--Barrosa--Field of
Battle--Chiclana--Road to Cadiz--Puente Zuazo--San Fernando--Temple of
Hercules--Castle of Santi Petri--Its Importance to Cadiz 33
CHAPTER III.
Cadiz--Its Foundation--Various Names--Past Prosperity--Made a Free Port
in the hope of ruining the trade of Gibraltar--Unjust Restrictions on
the Commerce of the British Fortress--Description of Cadiz--Its vaunted
Agremens--Society--Monotonous Life--Cathedral--Admirably built Sea
Wall--Naval Arsenal of La Carraca--Road to Xeres--Puerto Real--Puerto de
Santa Maria--Xeres--Its Filth--Wine Stores--Method of Preparing
Wine--Doubts of the Ancient and Derivation of the Present Name of
Xeres--Carthusian Convent--Guadalete--Battle of Xeres 64
CHAPTER IV.
Choice of Roads to Seville--By Lebrija--Mirage--The Marisma--Post
Road--Cross Road by Los Cabezas and Los Palacios--Difficulty of
Reconciling any of these Routes with that of the Roman
Itinerary--Seville--General Description of the City--The
Alameda--Display of Carriages--Elevation of the Host--Public
Buildings--The Cathedral--Lonja--American Archives--Alcazar--Casa
Pilata--Royal Snuff Manufactory--Cannon Foundry--Capuchin
Convent--Murillo--Theatre of Seville--Observations on the State of the
National Drama--Moratin--The Bolero--Spanish Dancing--The Spaniards not
a Musical People 90
CHAPTER V.
Society of Seville--Spanish Women--Faults of Education--Evils of Early
Marriages, and Marriages de Convenance--Environs of Seville--Triana--San
Juan De Alfarache Santi Ponce--Ruins of Italica--Italica not so ancient
a City as Hispalis--Young Pigs and the Muses--Departure from
Seville--The Marques De Las Amarillas--Weakness, Deceit, and Injustice
of the Late King of Spain--Alcala De Guadiara--Utrera--Observations on
the Strategical Importance of this Town--Moron--Military operations of
Riego--Apathy of the Serranos during the Civil War--Olbera--Remarks on
the Itinerary of Antoninus 123
CHAPTER VI.
Ronda to Gaucin--Road to Casares--Difficulty in Procuring
Lodgings--Finally Overcome--The Cura's House--View of the Town from the
Ruins of the Castle--Its Great Strength--Ancient Name--Ideas of the
Spaniards regarding Protestants--Scramble to the Summit of the Sierra
Cristellina--Splendid View--Jealousy of the Natives in the matter of
Sketching--The Cura and his Barometer--Departure for the Baths of
Manilba--Romantic Scenery--Accommodation for Visiters--The Master of the
Ceremonies--Roads to San Roque and Gibraltar--River Guadiaro and
Venta 154
CHAPTER VII.
The Baths of Manilba--A Specimen of Fabulous History--Properties of the
Hedionda--Society of the Bathing Village--Remarkable Mountain--An
English Botanist--Town of Manilba--An Intrusive Visiter--Ride to
Estepona--Return by way of Casares 179
CHAPTER VIII.
A Shooting Party to the Mountains--Our Italian Piqueur, Damien
Berrio--Some Account of his Previous Life--Los Barrios--The Beautiful
Maid, and the Maiden's Levelling Sire--Road to Sanona--Reparation
against Bandits--Arrival at the Caseria--Description of its Owner and
Accommodations--Fine Scenery--A Batida 202
CHAPTER IX.
Luis de Castro 226
CHAPTER X.
Don Luis's Narrative is interrupted by a Boar--The Batida
resumed--Departure from Sanona--Road to Casa Vieja--The Priest's
House--Adventure with Itinerant Wine-Merchants--Departure from Casa
Vieja--Alcala De Los Gazules--Road to Ximena--Return to
Gibraltar 249
CHAPTER XI.
Departure for Madrid--Cordon drawn round the Cholera--Ronda--Road to
Cordoba--Teba--Erroneous Position of the Place on the Spanish Maps--Its
Locality agrees with that of Ategua, as described by Hirtius, and the
Course of the River Guadaljorce with that of the Salsus--Road to
Campillos--The English-loving Innkeeper and his Wife--An Alcalde's
Dinner spoilt--Fuente De Piedra--Astapa--Puente Don
Gonzalo--Rambla--Cordoba--Meeting with an old Acquaintance 267
CHAPTER XII.
History of Blas El Guerrillero--_continued_ 294
CHAPTER XIII.
Unforeseen Difficulties in Proceeding to Madrid--Death of King
Ferdinand--Change in our Plans--Road to
Andujar--Alcolea--Montoro--Porcuna--Andujar--Arjono--Torre
Ximeno--Difficulty of Gaining Admission--Success of a
Stratagem--Consternation of the Authorities--Spanish Adherence to
Forms--Contrasts--Jaen--Description of the Castle, City, and
Cathedral--La Santa Faz--Road to Granada--Our Knightly
Attendant--Parador de San Rafael--Hospitable Farmer--Astonishment of the
Natives--Granada--El Soto de Roma--Loja--Venta de
Dornejo--Colmenar--Fine Scenery--Road from Malaga to Antequera, and
Description of that City 325
CHAPTER XIV.
Malaga--Excursion of Marbella and
Monda--Churriana--Benalmania--Fuengirola--Discrepancy of Opinion
respecting the Site of Suel--Scale to be adopted, in order to make the
measurements given in the Itinerary of Antoninus agree with the Actual
Distance from Malaga to Carteia--Errors of Carter--Castle of
Fuengirola--Road to Marbella--Tower and Casa Fuertes--Disputed Site of
Salduba--Description of Marbella--Abandoned Mines--Distance to
Gibraltar 363
CHAPTER XV.
A Proverb not to be lost sight of whilst travelling in Spain--Road to
Monda--Secluded Valley of Ojen--Monda--Discrepancy of Opinion respecting
the Site of the Roman City of Munda--Ideas of Mr. Carter on the
Subject--Reasons adduced for concluding that Modern Monda occupies the
Site of the Ancient City--Assumed Positions of the Contending Armies of
Cneius Pompey and Cæsar, in the Vicinity of the Town--Road to
Malaga--Towns of Coin and Alhaurin--Bridge over the Guadaljorce--Return
to Gibraltar--Notable Instance of the Absurdity of Quarantine
Regulations 382
CHAPTER XVI.
The Knight of San Fernando 410
APPENDIX 439
EXCURSIONS
IN THE
MOUNTAINS
OF
RONDA AND GRANADA.
CHAPTER I.
DEPARTURE FROM CORDOBA--POST-ROAD TO
CADIZ--CARLOTA--ECIJA--CARMONA--ROAD FROM ECIJA TO
GIBRALTAR--LOCUSTS--OSUNA--SAUCEJO--AN OLLA IN
PERFECTION--RONDA--SPLENDID SCENERY ON THE ROAD TO
GRAZALEMA--DISTANT VIEW OF ZAHARA--GRAZALEMA--EXTENSIVE PROSPECT
FROM THE PASS OF BOZAL--SECLUDED ORCHARDS OF
BENAMAJAMA--PAJARETE--EL BROQUE--UBRIQUE--DIFFICULT ROAD ACROSS THE
MOUNTAINS TO XIMENA--OUR GUIDE IN A RAGE--FINE
SCENERY--XIMENA--STRENGTH OF ITS CASTLE--ROAD TO GIBRALTAR.
On leaving Cordoba, we turned our horses' heads homewards, taking the
_arrecife_, or high road, to Seville and Cadiz. This appears to follow
the _direct_ Roman military way given in detail in the Itinerary of
Antoninus; the distances from station to station, on the modern road,
agreeing perfectly with those specified in the Itinerary, which, as it
runs very straight as far as Ecija, would not be the case if the Roman
road had diverged either to the right or left, as some are disposed to
make it, placing _Adaras_ (one of the intermediate stations) on the
margin of the Guadalquivír.
Several monuments, bearing inscriptions alluding to this military way,
are preserved at Cordoba. They all describe it as being from the temple
of Janus _to_ the Boetis, (meaning, it must be presumed, the _mouth_
of the river) and to the ocean.
The road is no longer paved, as it is described to have been in those
days; but, nevertheless, it is good enough to enable a lumbering
diligence to pulverize the gravel daily on its tedious way between
Madrid and Seville. It is also furnished with relays of post horses,[1]
but the posting establishments being, as in most other countries of
Europe, under the direction of the government, is a satire upon the term
_post haste_.
From Cordoba to Ecija is ten leagues.[2] The road, on reaching the river
_Badajocillo_, or Guadajoz, which is crossed by a lofty stone bridge,
commanding a fine view of Cordoba, leaves the rich alluvial valley of
the Guadalquivír, and enters upon an undulated tract of country, that
extends nearly all the way to Ecija. At three leagues is the scattered
village and post-house of Mango-negro, and three leagues beyond that
again, the settlement of Carlota. The ride is most uninteresting; as,
besides being tamely outlined and thinly peopled, the country is nearly
destitute of wood, and, in the summer season, of water; though, judging
from the extraordinary number of bridges, especially on drawing near
Carlota, there must be a superabundance in winter. Carlota is one of the
numerous villages which Charles the Third colonized from the Tyrol. It
consists principally of isolated cottages, standing some hundred yards
apart, and the same distance from the road; but there is a small
congregation of houses round the chapel, post-house, and _Casa del
Ayuntamiento_,[3] and a _Gasthof_, which I can say, from personal
experience, would do no discredit to Innsbruck itself.
The parish contains 250 houses, and a population of 1500 souls. The
fields round Carlota certainly appear to be better tilled than those in
other parts of the country, and there is a German tidiness about its
white cottages, as well as a platterfacedness about the little
white-headed urchins assembled round the doors, that are quite
anti-Spanish.
We obtained an excellent dinner at the _Tyroler Adler_, and, in the
afternoon, taking a by-road that struck off from the post route to the
right, cantered through plantations of olives nearly all the way to
Ecija,--four leagues. In the whole of the distance we did not see a drop
of running water, until we arrived on the brow of the hill overlooking
the river Genil. From this spot there is a fine view of the city of
Ecija, situated on the opposite bank.
The volume of the Genil increases but little between Granada and Ecija;
for its principal feeders, though falling into it below Granada, are
expended in irrigating the _vega_; and the _salados_, on the western
side of the _Serranía de Ronda_, are mostly dry during the summer. In
winter, however, the Genil is so increased, that the bridge at Ecija (a
solid stone structure of eleven arches,) is carried quite across the
valley, although the bed of the river is not above 100 yards wide.
Ecija is the Astigi of the Romans. It stands on a gentle acclivity, some
little distance from the Genil, and bears evident marks of antiquity.
Almost all traces of its walls have disappeared, however; and what
little remains of its tapia-built castle shows it to have been a work of
the Moors. The principal streets are wide, and contain many good houses;
and the _plaza_ is particularly well worth a visit from the lovers of
the picturesque.
The city contains sixteen convents, and two hospitals, with churches in
proportion. None of them offers much to interest the protestant
traveller; but, I believe, several boast of possessing valuable relics.
The Royal stud-house is fast going to decay.
The population of Ecija is estimated at 30,000 souls; a number that
appears totally disproportioned to the size of the city; particularly,
as it contains but a few tanneries, and trifling manufactories of shoes,
saddlery, &c. But, from the extreme fertility of the soil in its
neighbourhood--considered the most productive and best cultivated in
Andalusia--it is very possible this amount may not be exaggerated; for
in Spain the agriculturalists do not scatter themselves about in small
villages and hamlets over its surface, as in other countries, but
assemble together in large towns; so that those places which are
situated in fertile districts are as densely populated as our
manufacturing towns.
The distance that a Spanish peasant sometimes travels daily, to and from
his work, is truly surprising, in a people that, generally speaking,
like to save themselves trouble. Whilst getting in the harvest, however,
they erect _ranchas_, or rush huts, to shelter them from the midday sun
and night dews, and dwell in these temporary habitations until their
work is completed.
The crops of corn in the neighbourhood of Ecija are remarkably fine,
yielding forty to one, and though not so tall, perhaps, as those of the
_vega_ of Granada, the grains are larger and better ripened.
I must not omit to say a good word for the _Posada_,--the
Post-house,--which I do the more willingly from being so seldom called
upon to speak in terms of commendation of Spanish "houses of
entertainment." Suffice it to observe, that, provided the traveller be
very hungry, and moderately fatigued, he may reckon on getting a supper
that he will be able to eat, and a bed whereon--albeit hard--he may
obtain some hours' unmolested repose.
The remainder of the post road to Seville is so perfectly uninteresting,
that, reserving the Andalusian capital for a future tour, I shall take a
more direct route back to Gibraltar, through the _Serranía_ de Ronda;
merely offering a few remarks on the town of Carmona, which is situated
about two thirds of the way between Ecija and Seville, and referring my
readers to the Itinerary in the Appendix for any further details as to
the distances from place to place along the road.
Carmona is one of the few Roman towns of Boetica of whose identity
there is scarcely a doubt; its name having undergone little or no
change. It is mentioned by most of the ancient writers, and called by
them, indifferently, Carmo and Carmona, and by Julius Cæsar was esteemed
one of the strongest posts in the whole country. Its position,
considered relatively with the adjacent ground, is, indeed, most
commanding; being on the edge of a vast plateau of very elevated land,
which, stretching many miles to the south, falls abruptly along the
course of the river Corbones.
The Roman name for this river is, I think, doubtful. Florez, and most
antiquaries, suppose it to be the _Silicensis_. Some, and, as it appears
to me, with better reason, give that name to the Badajocillo. Be that as
it may, the Corbones is but an inconsiderable stream, and is now crossed
by a stone bridge of three arches.
The ascent to Carmona is very steep and tedious. The city is entered
through a triumphal Roman arch, which was repaired and spoilt by order
of Charles III. Another Roman gateway stands at the southern extremity
of the town, by which the road to Seville leaves it; and various parts
of the walls which yet encompass the place are the work of the same
people. The castle, however, is a relique of the Moors, and in a very
ruinous condition.
This stronghold was wrested from the Moors by San Fernando, after a six
months' investment. It was a favourite place of residence of Peter,
surnamed the Cruel, who, looking upon it as impregnable, left his
children there in fancied security when he took the field for the last
time against his brother. Soon after Peter's death, however, it fell
into the hands of his rival, who, according to some accounts, caused the
children (his nephews) to be put to death in cold blood.
The streets of Carmona are wide, clean, and well-paved; and the alameda
is enchanting, commanding a superb view of the ruined fortress, and over
the rich vales of the Corbones, and more distant Guadalquivír, and
embracing, at the same time, the whole chain of the Ronda mountains to
the eastward.
The population of the place is about 10,000 souls. The inn is execrable.
The post road to Cadiz is directed from Carmona on Alcalà de Guadiara,
where a branch to Seville strikes off, nearly at a right angle, to the
east, thereby making a considerable détour. But in summer, carriages
even may proceed to Seville by a cross road, which not only lessens the
dust, but reduces the distance from six _long_ to the same number of
_short_ leagues; or, in other words, effects a saving of about three
miles.
I now return to Ecija, and take the road from that city to Osuna; which
is tolerably good, and practicable for carriages during the greater part
of the year. The distance is five (very long) leagues. The country
presents a slightly undulated surface, and, excepting round the edges of
some basins wherein extensive lakes have been formed, is altogether
under the plough. At a little distance from the road, on the left hand,
a stream, called _El Salado_, flows towards the Genil. It does not
communicate with these lakes, nor has the name it bears been given from
its being impregnated with salt.
During our ride, we observed a number of men advancing in skirmishing
order across the country, and thrashing the ground most savagely with
long flails. Curious to know what could be the motive for this
Xerxes-like treatment of the earth, we turned out of the road to inspect
their operations, and found they were driving a swarm of locusts into a
wide piece of linen spread on the ground at some distance before them,
wherein they were made prisoners. These animals are about three times
the size of an English grasshopper. They migrate from Africa, and their
spring visits are very destructive; for in a single night they will
entirely eat up a field of young corn.
The _Caza de Langostas_[4] is a very profitable business to the
peasantry; as, besides a reward obtained from the proprietor of the soil
in consideration for service done, they sell the produce of their
_chasse_ for manure at so much a sack.
Osuna is generally admitted to be the Urso,[5] Ursao, and Ursaon, of the
Roman historians; though it agrees in no one particular with the
description given of that place by Hirtius; for it is not by any means
"strong by nature;" it is in the vicinity of extensive
forests--rendering it perfectly absurd to suppose that Cæsar's troops
"had to bring wood thither all the way from Munda;"--and, so far from
"there being no rivulet within eight miles of the place,"[6] a fine
stream meanders under its very walls.
The town is situated at the foot of a hill that screens it effectually
to the eastward, and the summit of which is occupied by an old castle of
considerable strength and size, but now fast crumbling to decay. The
streets are wide and well paved, the houses particularly good;--indeed,
some of the palaces of the provincial nobility (with whom it was
formerly a favourite place of residence) are strikingly handsome; in
particular, that of the Duke who takes his title from the city; and
notwithstanding that the streets are overgrown with grass, and the
houses covered with mildew, I am, nevertheless, disposed to call Osuna
the best built and handsomest city in Andalusia, it contains a
university, fourteen convents, for both sexes, and a population of
16,000 souls; but has little or no trade--in fact, though on the
crossing of two high roads, (viz., from Gibraltar to Madrid, and from
Granada to Seville) it has all the dullness of a secluded country
village.
The vicinity is very fruitful in olives and corn; the soil is a whitish
clay. To the S.E. the country is tolerably level all the way to
Antequera, and to the west is nearly flat to Seville; but at about a
mile southward from the city, shoot up the entangled roots of the
mountains of Ronda, presenting on that side a belt of very intricate
country. There are two roads to that place, the distance by the better,
which, I think, is also rather the shorter, of the two, is nine leagues.
It leaves Osuna by the gate of Granada, and, crossing the
before-mentioned stream (which is one of the sources of the Corbones),
advances some distance along a wide olive-planted valley. It then quits
the great road to Granada (which continues along the valley), and
ascends a steep and very long hill, from the crest of which, distant
about three miles from Osuna, there is a splendid view of the city, and
of the spacious plains extending to and bordering the distant
Guadalquivír, studded with the towns of Marchena, Fuentes, Palmar, and
Carmona.
The road continues along the summit of the elevated range of hills which
it has now attained, for about five miles, winding amongst some
singularly mammillated hummocks, that have very much the appearance of
the tumuli left in an exhausted mining country. A succession of strongly
marked and peculiarly rugged ravines present themselves along the
eastern side of the ridge, and the ground falls also very abruptly in
the opposite direction; but to the south, whither the road is directed,
the descent is much more gradual; and from the foot of the hill, which
is bathed by a rivulet wending its way to the Genil, the country is
tolerably level, and the road extremely good the remaining distance to
Saucejo.
In former days, this route was practicable for carriages throughout, and
with very little labour it might again be made so; but, though the high
road from the capital to Algeciras and Gibraltar, it is but little
travelled. The other road from Osuna to Ronda joins in here on the
right.
The village of Saucejo is a post station three leagues from Osuna, and
six from Ronda. It contains some eight hundred inhabitants, great
abundance of stabling, but not one decent house. The posada is a
peculiarly unpromising establishment, and the landlady's face such as to
shut out all hope of any sound wine being found within its influence. We
had left Osuna so late in the day, however, that it would have been vain
to attempt reaching Ronda ere nightfall.
We, therefore, reluctantly took possession of the _sala_, and,
presenting our sour-faced hostess with a rabbit and some partridges that
we had purchased on the road, asked if she could furnish the other
requisites for the concorporation of an _olla_, and whether it would be
possible to let us have our meal ere midnight; to both of which
questions, with sundry consequential nods of the head, she replied
severally, _en casa llena, presto se guisa la cena_.[7] Notwithstanding
this assurance, our supper was long in making its appearance, for the
operations of an _olla_ cannot be hurried. But, when it did come, it
bespoke our landlady to be a _cordon bleu_ of the first class; the
_pimento_[8] had been administered with judgment; the _berza_[9] had
duly extracted the flavour from the rabbit and partridges; the
_chorizo_[10] had imparted but the desirable smack of garlic to the
other ingredients; and the nutty savour of the _tocino_[11] was beyond
all praise. Nor was her wine such as we had expected; though somewhat
too light to have much influence on the digestion of the unctuous mess
placed before us.
From Saucejo the road again branches into two, one route proceeding by
way of Almargen, the other by the Venta del Granadal. Both are
_reckoned_ six leagues; but the last mentioned is better than the other,
as well as shorter by several miles. It crosses a considerable stream
(here called the Algamitas, but which is, in fact, the main source of
the Corbones) by a ford, about three miles from Saucejo. The descent to
the stream is very bad, and, after keeping along its bank for another
mile, the road mounts to some elevated table land, from which the view
to the westward is obstructed by the rocky peaks of two detached
mountains about a mile off. These may be considered the outposts of the
Serranía in that direction; and, on the rough side of the more
considerable of the two, is the _Hermita de Caños Santos_.
The country becomes very wild as the road advances, and rugged tors,
partially covered with wood, rise on all sides. At nine miles from
Saucejo is the lone venta of Grañadal, and beyond it the mountains rise
to a yet greater height, but their slopes are less abrupt, and are
covered with forests of oak and cork. At twelve miles a track branches
off to the right, proceeding to the little town of Alcalà del Valle,
which, though distant only about half a mile, is not visible from the
road. Soon after, a wide valley opens to the view, at the bottom of
which, encased by steep rocky banks, flows the river _Guadalete_. This
river is by some considered the _Lethe_ of the ancients; but, if it be
so, our long-cherished notions of the beauty of the Elysian fields have
been wofully faulty, for the country is rather tame, and the soil stony
and ungrateful. Thus far, however, it answers the description of Virgil,
that you
"Breathe in ample fields the soft Elysian air."
The town of Setenil is perched on a crag overhanging the left bank of
the Guadalete, and distant about three miles from the road, which keeps
under the broad summit of the hills forming the northern boundary of
Elysium. The sides of these are partially cultivated, and, from time to
time, a low cottage is met with as the road proceeds; but it soon enters
a cork-forest, and, threading its dark mazes for about four miles,
gradually gains the crest of the chain of hills overlooking the vale of
Ronda to the north, whence a splendid view is obtained of the fertile
basin, its rock-built fortress, and jagged sierras.
The descent on the southern side of the hills is rather rapid, and,
after proceeding downwards about a mile, the road is joined on the left
by the other route from Saucejo. From hence to Ronda is two short
leagues. The road still continues descending for another mile; and, in
the course of the two following, it crosses three deep ravines, watered
by copious streams, and planted with all sorts of fruit-trees.
In the bottom of one of these dells is ensconced the village of Arriate.
The last is a deep and very singular rent that extends, east and west,
quite across the basin of Ronda. Immediately after crossing this
fissure, the road begins to ascend the range of hills whereon Ronda is
situated, and, after winding for three miles amongst vineyards, olive
grounds, and corn-fields, enters the city on its north side.
We were seven hours performing the journey, although the distance is but
six _leguas regulares_.
I have already given so full a description of Ronda, that I will pass on
without further remark.
To vary the scenery, and moved by curiosity to visit some of the scenes
of our acquaintance Blas's exploits, we determined to take a somewhat
circuitous route homewards, by way of Grazalema and Ubrique.
The distance to the first named town is three long leagues. The road
descends gradually to the south-western extremity of the basin of Ronda,
where the Guadiaro, forming its junction with the Rio Verde, enters a
rocky defile, and is lost sight of amidst the roots of the rugged
sierras that spread themselves in all directions towards the
Mediterranean.
Crossing the last named stream just before its confluence with the
Guadiaro, the road at once begins ascending towards a deeply marked gap,
that breaks the ridge of the mountains which rise along the right bank
of the stream.
The pass is about four miles from Ronda, and commands a splendid view of
the fruitful valley, which lies, like an outspread _cornucopia_, at its
foot. On the other side, too, the scenery is not less fine, though of a
totally different nature. There a singular double-peaked crag rises up
boldly and darkly on the left hand, casting its shadow on the bright
foliage of an oak forest, which, deep sunk below the rest of the
country, spreads its verdant covering as far to the eastward as where
the huge Sierra Endrinal raises its cloud-enveloped head above all the
other mountains of the range. High seated on the side of this, a white
speck is seen which, in the course of time, proves to be the town of
Grazalema, whither we are bending our steps.
Proceeding onwards, from the pass about a mile, the little village of
Montejaque shows itself, peeping from between the two peaks of the
mountain on the left, and, seemingly, quite inaccessible, even to a
goat.
It is inhabited by a horde of half-tamed Saracens, who pride themselves
greatly on having foiled all the attempts of the French to make
themselves masters of the place;[12] and, as this elevated little
village is but three quarters of a mile from the high road, (which is
the principal communication between Malaga and Cadiz) it must have
possessed the means of annoying the enemy considerably.
For the next two miles our way lay along the spine of a somewhat
elevated ridge; whence we looked down upon the before-mentioned wooded
country on one side, and on the other into a well cultivated valley.
From the bed of this, but at several leagues' distance, the rock-built
town of Zahara rears its embattled head.
This little fortress is very noted in Moorish history; its capture by
Muley Aben Hassan, during a period of truce, having provoked the renewal
of the war which led to the loss of the crown, not only to himself
first, but to his race afterwards.
One of the sources of the Guadalete flows in this valley, bathing the
walls of Zahara, which stands on the site of the Roman town of
Lastigi.[13] The present name, I should imagine, (considering the
locality) is derived rather from the Arabic word _Zaharat_ (mountain
top) than _Z[=a]hara_, (flowery) as supposed by Mr. Carter; for the
streets are cut out of the live rock on which the place is built.
The road to Grazalema, now mounting another step, enters a dark forest,
and, continuing for five miles along the top of a narrow ridge, descends
into a vine-clad valley, that spreads out at the foot of the rough
sierra on the side of which Grazalema is seated.
The ascent to the town is very bad, and is rendered worse than it
otherwise would be by being paved--for a paved road in Spain is sure to
be neglected. We scrambled up with much difficulty, and alighting at the
posada, remained for an hour or two, to procure some breakfast, and
examine the place.
It is a singularly built town, the streets being heaped one above
another, like steps; and in several instances they are even worked out
of the native rock. There is, nevertheless, a fine open market-place,
which we found well supplied with fruit, vegetables, and game, including
venison and wild boar; and the town possesses several manufactories of
coarse cloths and serges.
From its situation, immediately over the mouth of a deep ravine, by
which alone access can be obtained to one of the principal passes in the
Serranía, Grazalema occupies a very important military position, and may
be considered almost inassailable; for, whilst at its back a perfectly
impracticable mountain covers it from attack, it is protected to the
north and east by the precipitous ravine it overlooks; up the side of
which, even the narrow road from Ronda has not been practised without
much labour. The only side, therefore, on which it has to apprehend
danger, is that fronting the pass above it--i.e. to the westward. But it
has the means of offering an obstinate resistance, even in that
direction.
Commanding, as it thus does, so important a passage over the mountains,
there can be but little doubt that Grazalema stands upon, or near, the
site of some Roman fortress; and, for reasons which I shall hereafter
mention, I feel inclined to place here the town of Ilipa.[14]
The inhabitants amount to about 6,000, and are a savage,
ruffianly-looking race. During the "War of Independence," assisted by
their brethren of the neighbouring mountain fastnesses, they frequently
rose against their invaders, driving them out of the place; and on one
occasion they repulsed a French column of several thousand men, which
was sent to dispossess them of their stronghold.
On leaving Grazalema, the road enters the narrow, rock-bound ravine
leading up to the pass, down which a noisy torrent rushes, leaping from
precipice to precipice, and lashing the base of the crag-built town,
whence we had just issued. A newly-built bridge, whose high-crowned arch
places it beyond the anger of the foaming stream, gives a passage to the
road to Zahara, which winds along the eastern face of the Sierra del
Pinar. Our route, however, continues ascending yet a mile and a half
along the right bank of the torrent, ere it reaches the long descried
gap in the mountain chain, the name of which is _El Puerto Bozal_.
This is considered one of the most elevated passes in the whole Serranía
de Ronda, and must be at least 4,000 feet above the level of the sea.
The mountains on either side rise to a far greater elevation; that on
the right, distinguished by the name of _El Pico de San Cristoval_, is
said (as has already been stated) to have been the first land made by
Columbus on his return from the discovery of the "New World."
The views from this pass are truly grand. At our backs lay the
beautifully wooded country we had travelled over in the morning--Ronda
and its vale, and the distant sierras of El Burgo and Casarabonela.
Before us, a wild mountain country extended for several miles; and
beyond, spreading as far as the eye could reach, were the vast plains of
Arcos, through which the gladdening Guadalete, winding its way past
Xeres, turns to seek the bay of Cadiz, whose glassy surface the white
walls of its proud mistress, and the deep blue ocean, could be seen
distinctly on the left, though at a distance of more than fifty miles.
From the Puerto Bozal, a _trocha_, directed straight upon Ubrique,
strikes off to the left; but the saving in point of distance which this
road offers, is counterbalanced by its extreme ruggedness. We,
therefore, took the more circuitous route to that place by El Broque,
which, for the first five miles, is itself sufficiently bad to satisfy
most people. The views along it, looking to the south, are very fine;
but the lofty barren range of San Cristoval, on the side of which it is
conducted, shuts out the prospect in the opposite direction.
At length, crossing over a narrow tongue that protrudes from the side of
the rugged mountain, we entered a dark, wooded ravine, and began to
descend very rapidly, and, to our astonishment, by a very good road.
After proceeding in this way about a mile, the valley gradually
expanding, we emerged from the wood, and found ourselves in a
sequestered glen of surpassing loveliness. A neat white chapel, with a
picturesque belfry, stood on a sloping green bank on our right hand,
and, scattered in all directions about it, were the trim, vine-clad
cottages of its frequenters, each screened partially from the sun in a
grove of almond, cherry, and orange trees. A crystal stream gurgled
through the fruitful dell, which was bounded at some little distance by
high wooded hills and rocky cliffs.
This secluded retreat is called _La Huerta[15] de Benamajáma_,--the
peculiarly guttural name proving it to have been a little earthly
paradise of the Moors.
The road, which had thus far been nearly west, here, continuing along
the course of the little river Posadas, turns to the south; and, keeping
under a range of wooded hills on the left hand, in about an hour reaches
El Broque. This portion of the road is very good, and from it, looking
over the great plain bordering the Guadalete, may be seen the lofty
tower of _Pajarete_, perched on a conical mound, at about a league's
distance. The justly celebrated sweet wine called by this name was
originally produced from the vineyards in its vicinity, but it is now
made principally at Xeres.
El Broque is a small clean town, abounding in wood and water, and
containing from 1500 to 2000 inhabitants. To the east it is overshadowed
by a range of lofty, wooded hills, which may be considered the last
buttresses of the Serranía; for the road to Cadiz, which here branches
off to the right, crossing the Posadas, traverses an uninterrupted plain
all the way to Arcos.
The route to Ubrique, on the other hand, again strikes into the
mountains; though, for yet two miles further, it follows the course of
the little river and its impending sierra. Arrived, however, at the
mouth of a ravine, which brings down another mountain-torrent to the
plain, it turns to the north, keeping along the margin of the stream,
until the bridge of Tavira offers the means of passage; when, crossing
to the opposite bank, it once more enters the intricate belt of
mountains.
The name of the stream which is here crossed is the Majaceite; and on
its right bank, close to the bridge, is a solitary venta. The scenery is
extremely beautiful. The mountains of Grazalema, which we had traversed
in the morning, form the background; the ruined tower of Alamada,
perched on an isolated knoll, stands boldly forward in middle distance;
and close at hand are the rough, coppiced banks and crystal current of
the winding Majaceite.
From hence to Ubrique the country is very wild and rugged. The town is
first seen (when about a league off) from the summit of a round-topped
hill, six miles from El Broque. It is nestled in the bottom of a deep
valley, hemmed in by singularly rugged mountains. The first part of the
descent is gradual, but a steep neck of land must be crossed ere
reaching the town; and, as if to render the approach as difficult as
possible, the road over this mound has been paved.
Amongst the rude masses of sierra that encompass Ubrique, numerous
rivulets pierce their way to the lowly valley, where, collected in two
streams, they are conducted to the town, and, fertilizing the ground in
its neighbourhood, cause it to be encircled by a belt of most luxuriant
vegetation. The mountains in the vicinity abound also in lead-mines, but
they are no longer worked. "Where are we to find money? Where are we to
look for security?" were the answers given to _my_ question, "Why not?"
The streets of Ubrique are wide, clean, and well paved; the houses lofty
and good; but the inn, alas! affords the wearied traveller little more
than bare walls and a wooden floor. The population of the place may be
estimated at 8000 souls. It contains some tanneries, water-mills, and
manufactories of hats and coarse cloths. It does not strike me as being
a likely site for a Roman city.
We were on horseback by daybreak, having before us a long ride, and, for
the first five leagues (to Ximena), a very difficult country to
traverse. For about a mile the road is paved, and confined to the vale
in which Ubrique stands by a precipitous mountain. But, the westernmost
point of this ridge turned, the route to Ximena (leaving a road to
Alcalà de los Gazules on the right) takes a more southerly direction
than heretofore, and, entering a hilly country, soon dwindles into a
mere mule-track. Ere proceeding far in this direction, another road
branches off to Cortes, winding up towards some cragged eminences that
serrate the mountain-chain on the left. The path to Ximena, however,
continues yet two miles further across the comparatively undulated
country below, which thus far is under cultivation; but, on gaining the
summit of a hill, distant about four miles from Ubrique, a complete
change takes place in the face of the country; the view opening upon a
wide expanse of forest, furrowed by numerous deep ravines, and studded
with rugged tors.
The road through this overshadowed labyrinth is continually mounting and
descending the slippery banks of the countless torrents that intersect
it, twisting and winding in every direction; and, on gaining the heart
of the forest, the path is crossed and cut up by such numbers of
timber-tracks, and is screened from the sun's cheering rays by so
impervious a covering, that the difficulty of choosing a path amongst
the many which presented themselves was yet further increased by that of
determining the point of the compass towards which they were
respectively directed.
The guide we had brought with us, though pretending to be thoroughly
acquainted with every pathway in the forest, was evidently as much at a
_nonplus_ as we ourselves were; and his muttered _malditos_ and
_carajos_, like the rolling of distant thunder, announced the coming of
a storm. At length it burst forth: the track he had selected, after
various windings, led only to the stump of a venerable oak. Never was
mortal in a more towering passion; he snatched his hat from his head,
threw it on the ground, and stamped upon it, swearing by, or at--for we
could hardly distinguish which--all the saints in the calendar. After
enjoying this scene for some time, we spread ourselves in different
directions in search of the beaten track; and, at last, a swineherd,
attracted by our calls to each other, came to our deliverance; and our
guide, after bestowing sundry _malditos_ upon the wood, the torrents,
the timber-tracks, and those who made them, resumed his wonted state of
composure, assuring us, that there was some accursed hobgoblin in this
_hi-de-puta_ forest, who took delight in leading good Catholics astray;
that during the war an entire regiment, misled by some such
_malhechor_,[16] had been obliged to bivouac there for the night, to the
great detriment of his very Catholic Majesty's service.
Soon after this little adventure we reached a solitary house, called the
_Venta de Montera_, which is something more than half way between
Ubrique and Ximena; _i.e._ eleven miles from the former, and nine from
the latter. A little way beyond this the road reaches an elevated chain
of hills, that separates the rivers Sogarganta and Guadiaro; the summit
of which being rather a succession of peaks than a continuous ridge,
occasions the track to be conducted sometimes along the edge of one
valley, sometimes of the other. The mountain falls very ruggedly to the
first-named river, but in one magnificent sweep to the Guadiaro.
The views on both sides are extremely fine; that on the left hand
embraces Gibraltar's cloud-wrapped peaks, the mirror-like Mediterranean,
Spain's prison-fortress of Ceuta, and the blue mountains of Mauritanía;
the other looks over the silvery current of the Sogarganta, winding
amidst the roots of a peculiarly wild and wooded country, and towards
the rock-built little fortress of Castellar.
The road continues winding along this elevated heather-clad ridge for
four miles, and then descends by rapid zig-zags towards Ximena.
The town lies crouching under the shelter of a rocky ledge, that,
detached from the rest of the sierra, and crowned with the ruined towers
of an ancient castle, forms a bold and very picturesque feature in the
view, looking southward. The town is nearly a mile in length, and
consists principally of two long narrow streets, one extending from
north to south quite through it, the other leading up to the castle. The
rest of the _callejones_[17] are disposed in steps up the steep side of
the impending hill, and can be reached only on foot.
The old castle--in great part Roman, but the superstructure Moorish--is
accessible only on the side of the town (east), and in former days must
have been almost impregnable. The narrow-ridged ledge whereon it stands
has been levelled, as far as was practicable, to give capacity to this
citadel, which is 400 yards in length, and varies in breadth from 50 to
80. It rises gently, so as to form two hummocks at its extremities; and
the narrowest part of the inclosure being towards the centre, it has
very much the form of a calabash.
A strongly built circular tower, mounting artillery, and enclosed by an
irregular loop-holed work of some strength, occupies the southern peak
of the ridge; and a fort of more modern structure, but feeble profile,
covers that in which it terminates to the north. An irregularly indented
wall, or in some places scarped rock, connects these two retrenched
works along the eastern side of the ridge; but, in the opposite
direction, the cliff falls precipitously to the river Sogarganta;
rendering any artificial defences, beyond a slight parapet wall, quite
superfluous.
Numerous vaulted tanks and magazines afforded security to the ammunition
and provisions of the isolated little citadel; but they are now in a
wretched state, as well as the outworks generally; for the fortress was
partially blown up by Ballasteros, (A.D. 1811) upon his abandoning it,
on the approach of the French, to seek a surer protection under the guns
of Gibraltar.
In exploring the ruined tanks of this old Moorish fortress, chance
directed our footsteps to an unfrequented spot where some smugglers were
in treaty with a revenue _guarda_, touching the amount of bribe to be
given for his connivance at the entry of sundry mule loads of contraband
goods into the town on the following night.
We did not pry so curiously into the proceedings of the contracting
parties, as to ascertain the precise sum demanded by this faithful
servant of the crown for the purchase of his acquiescence to the
proposed arrangement, but, from the elevated shoulders, outstretched
arms, and down-stretched mouth, of one of the negociators, it was
evident that the demand was considered unconscionable; and the roguish
countenance of the custom-house shark as clearly expressed in reply,
"But do you count for nothing the sacrifice of principle I make?"
From the ruined ramparts of Fort Ballasteros (the name by which the
northern retrenched work of the fortress is distinguished) the view
looking south is remarkably fine. The keep of the ancient castle,
enclosed by its comparatively modern outworks, and occupying the extreme
point of the narrow rocky ledge whereon we were perched, stands boldly
out from the adjacent mountains; whilst, deep sunk below, the tortuous
Sogarganta may be traced for miles, wending its way towards the
Almoraima forest. Above this rise the two remarkable headlands of
Gibraltar and Ceuta; the glassy waterline between them marking the
separation of Europe and Africa.
That Ximena was once a place of importance there can be no doubt, since
it gave the title of King to Abou Melic, son of the Emperor of Fez; and
that it was a Roman station (though the name is lost,) is likewise
sufficiently proved, as well by the walls of the castle, as by various
inscriptions which have been discovered in the vicinity. At the present
day, it is a poor and inconsiderable town, whose inhabitants, amounting
to about 8000, are chiefly employed in smuggling and agriculture.
On issuing from the town, the road to Gibraltar crosses the Sogarganta,
having on its left bank, and directly under the precipitous southern
cliff of the castle rock, the ruins of an immense building, erected some
sixty years back, for the purpose of casting shot for the siege of
Gibraltar!
The distance from Ximena to the English fortress is 25 miles. The road
was, in times past, practicable for carriages throughout; and even now
is tolerably good, though the bridges are not in a state to drive over.
It is conducted along the right bank of the Sogarganta; at six miles, is
joined by a road that winds down from the little town of Castellar on
the right; and, at eight, enters the Almoraima forest by the "Lion's
Mouth," of which mention has already been made. The river, repelled by
the steep brakes of the forest, winds away to the eastward to seek the
Guadiaro and Genil.
Here I will take a temporary leave of my readers, to seek a night's
lodging at a cottage in the neighbourhood, which, being frequented by
some friends and myself in the shooting season, we knew could furnish us
with clean beds and a _gazpacho_.
CHAPTER II.
DEPARTURE FOR CADIZ--ROAD ROUND THE BAY OF
GIBRALTAR--ALGECIRAS--SANDY BAY--GUALMESI--TARIFA--ITS
FOUNDATION--ERROR OF MARIANA IN SUPPOSING IT TO BE CARTEIA--BATTLE
OF EL SALADO--MISTAKE OF LA MARTINIERE CONCERNING IT--ITINERARY OF
ANTONINUS FROM CARTEIA TO GADES VERIFIED--CONTINUATION OF
JOURNEY--VENTAS OF TAVILLA AND RETIN--VEJER--CONIL--SPANISH METHOD
OF EXTRACTING GOOD FROM EVIL--TUNNY FISHERY--BARROSA--FIELD OF
BATTLE--CHICLANA--ROAD TO CADIZ--PUENTE ZUAZO--SAN FERNANDO--TEMPLE
OF HERCULES--CASTLE OF SANTI PETRI--ITS IMPORTANCE TO CADIZ.
Hoping that the taste of my readers, like my own, leads them to prefer
the motion of a horse to that of a ship, the chance of being robbed to
that of being sea-sick, and the savoury smell of an _olla_ to the greasy
odour of a steam engine, I purpose in my next excursion to conduct them
to Cadiz by the rude pathway practised along the rocky shore of the
Straits of Gibraltar, and thence, "_inter æstuaria Bætis_," to Seville,
instead of proceeding to those places by the more rapid and now
generally adopted means of fire and water. From the last named "fair
city" we will return homewards by another passage through the mountains
of Ronda.
To authorise _me_--a mere scribbler of notes and journals--to assume the
plural _we_, that gives a Delphic importance to one's opinions (but
under whose shelter I gladly seek to avoid the charge of egotism), I
must state that a friend bore me company on this occasion; our two
servants, with well stuffed saddle-bags and _alforjas_, "bringing up the
rear."
Proceeding along the margin of the bay of Gibraltar, leaving
successively behind us the ruins of Fort St. Philip, which a few years
since gave security to the right flank of the lines drawn across the
Isthmus in front of the British fortress; the crumbling tower of
_Cartagena_, or _Recadillo_, which, during the seven centuries of Moslem
sway, served as an _atalaya_, or beacon, to convey intelligence along
the coast between Algeciras and Malaga; and, lastly, the scattered
fragments of the yet more ancient city of Carteia, we arrive at the
river Guadaranque.
The stream is so deep as to render a ferry-boat necessary. That in use
is of a most uncouth kind, and so low waisted that "Almanzor," who was
ever prone to gad amongst the Spanish lady Rosinantes, could not be
deterred from showing his gallantry to some that were collected on the
opposite side of the river, by leaping "clean out" of the boat before it
was half way over. Fortunately, we had passed the deepest part of the
stream, so that I escaped with a foot-bath only.
The road keeps close to the shore for about a mile and a half, when it
reaches the river Palmones, which is crossed by a similarly
ill-contrived ferry. From hence to Algeciras is three miles, the first
along the sea-beach, the remainder by a carriage-road, conducted some
little distance inland to avoid the various rugged promontories which
now begin to indent the coast, and to dash back in angry foam the
hitherto gently received caresses of the flowing tide.
The total distance from Gibraltar to Algeciras, following the sea-shore,
is nine English miles; but straight across the bay it is barely five.
Algeciras, supposed to be the Tingentera of the ancients, and by some
the Julia Traducta of the Romans, received its present name from the
Moors--_Al chazira_, the island. In the days of the Moslem domination,
it became a place of great strength and importance; and when the power
of the Moors of Spain began to wane, was one of the towns ceded to the
Emperor of Fez, to form a kingdom for his son, Abou Melic, in the hope
of presenting a barrier that would check the alarming progress of the
Christian arms. From that time it became a constant object of
contention, and endured many sieges. The most memorable was in 1342-4,
during which cannon were first brought into use by its defenders. It,
nevertheless, fell to the irresistible Alfonso XI., after a siege of
twenty months.
At that period, the town stood on the right bank of the little river
Miel (instead of on the left, as at present), where traces of its walls
are yet to be seen; but its fortifications having shortly afterwards
been razed to the ground by the Moors, the place fell to decay, and the
present town was built so late as in 1760. It is unprotected by walls,
but is sheltered from attack on the sea-side by a rocky little island,
distant 800 yards from the shore. This island is crowned with batteries
of heavy ordnance, and has, on more occasions than one, been found an
"ugly customer" to deal with. The anchorage is to the north of the
island, and directly in front of the town.
The streets of Algeciras are wide and regularly built, remarkably well
paved, and lined with good houses; but it is a sun-burnt place, without
a tree to shelter, or a drain to purify it. Being the port of
communication between Spain and her _presidario_, Ceuta, as well as the
military seat of government of the _Campo de Gibraltar_, it is a place
of some bustle, and carries on a thriving trade, by means of _felucas_
and other small craft, with the British fortress. The population may be
reckoned at 8,000 souls, exclusive of a garrison of from twelve to
fifteen hundred men.
The Spaniards call the rock of Gibraltar _el cuerpo muerto_,[18] from
its resemblance to a corpse; and, viewed from Algeciras, it certainly
does look something like a human figure laid upon its back, the
northernmost pinnacle forming the head, the swelling ridge between that
and the signal tower, the chest and belly, and the point occupied by
O'Hara's tower the bend of the knees.
The direct road from Algeciras to Cadiz crosses the most elevated pass
in the wooded mountains that rise at the back of the town, and, from its
excessive asperity, is called "_The Trocha_," the word itself signifying
a _bad_ mountain road. The distance by this route is sixty-two miles; by
Tarifa it is about a league more, and this latter road is not much
better than the other, though over a far lower tract of country.
On quitting the town, the road, having crossed the river Miel, and
passed over the site of "Old Algeciras," situated on its right bank,
edges away from the coast, and, in about a mile, reaches a hill, whence
an old tower is seen standing on a rocky promontory; which, jutting some
considerable distance into the sea, forms the northern boundary of a
deep and well sheltered bay. The Spanish name for this bight is _La
Ensenada de Getares_; but by us, on account of the high beach of white
sand that edges it, it is called "Sandy bay." It strikes me this must be
the _Portus albus_ of Antoninus's Itinerary, since its distance from
Carteia corresponds exactly with that therein specified, and renders the
rest of the route to Gades _intelligible_, which, otherwise, it
certainly is not. But more of this hereafter.
Within two miles of Algeciras the road crosses two mountain torrents,
the latter of which, called _El Rio Picaro_[19] (I presume from its
occasional _treacherous_ rise), discharges itself into the bay of
Getares. Thenceforth, the track becomes more rugged, and ascends towards
a pass, (_El puerto del Cabrito_) which connects the _Sierra Santa Ana_
on the right with a range of hills that, rising to the south, and
closing the view in that direction, shoots its gnarled roots into the
Straits of Gibraltar.
The views from the pass are very fine--that to the eastward, looking
over the lake-like Mediterranean and towards the snowy sierras of
Granada; the other, down upon the rough features of the Spanish shore,
and towards the yet more rugged mountains of Africa; the still distant
Atlantic stretching away to the left. The former view is shut out
immediately on crossing the ridge: but the other, undergoing pleasing
varieties as one proceeds, continues very fine all the way to Tarifa.
The road is now very bad, being conducted across the numerous rough
ramifications of the mountains on the right hand, midway between their
summits and the sea. At about seven miles from Algeciras it reaches the
secluded valley of Gualmesi, or Guadalmesi, celebrated for the
crystaline clearness of its springs, and the high flavour of its
oranges; and, crossing the stream, whence the romantic dell takes its
name, directs itself towards the sea-shore, continuing along it the rest
of the way to Tarifa; which place is distant twelve miles from
Algeciras.
The stratification of the rocks along this coast is very remarkable: the
flat shelving ledges that border it running so regularly in parallel
lines, nearly east and west, as to have all the appearance of artificial
moles for sheltering vessels. It is on the contrary, however, an
extremely dangerous shore to approach.
The old Moorish battlements of Tarifa abut against the rocky cliff that
bounds the coast; stretching thence to the westward, along, but about 50
yards from, the sea. It is not necessary, therefore, to enter the
fortress; indeed, one makes a considerable détour in doing so; but
curiosity will naturally lead all Englishmen--who have the
opportunity--to visit the walls so gallantly defended by a handful of
their countrymen during the late war; and those who cannot do so may not
object to read a somewhat minute description of them.
The town closes the mouth of a valley, bound by two long but slightly
marked moles, protruded from a mountain range some miles distant to the
north; the easternmost of which terminates abruptly along the sea-shore.
The walls extend partly up both these hills; but not far enough to save
the town from being looked into, and completely commanded, within a very
short distance. Their general lines form a quadrangular figure, about
600 yards square; but a kind of horn work projects from the N.E. angle,
furnishing the only good flanking fire that the fortress can boast of
along its north front. Every where else the walls, which are only four
feet and a half thick, are flanked by square towers, themselves hardly
solid enough to bear the _weight_ of artillery, much less its blows.
At the S.W. angle, but within the enceinte of the fortress, and looking
seawards, there is a small castle, or citadel, the _alcazar_ of its
Moorish governors; and immediately under its machicoulated battlements
is one of the three gateways of the town. The two others are towards the
centre of its western and northern fronts.
In the attack of 1811, the French made their approaches against the
north front of the town, and effected a breach towards its centre, in
the very lowest part of the bed of the valley; thus most completely
"taking the bull by the horns;" (and Tarifa bulls are not to be trifled
with--as every Spanish _picador_ knows,) since the approach to it was
swept by the fire of the projecting _horn_-work I have before mentioned.
When the breach was repaired, a marble tablet was inserted in the wall,
bearing a modest inscription in Latin, which states that "this part of
the wall, destroyed by the besieging French, was re-built by the British
defenders in November, 1813."
When the French again attacked the fortress, in 1823, profiting by past
experience, they established their breaching batteries in a large
convent, distant about 200 yards from the walls on the west front of the
town; and, favouring their assault by a feigned attack on the gate in
its south wall, they carried the place with scarcely any loss.
The streets of Tarifa are narrow, dark, and crooked; and, excepting that
they are clean, are in every respect Moorish. The inhabitants are rude
in speech and manners, and amount to about 8000.
From the S.E. salient angle of the town, a sandy isthmus juts about a
thousand yards into the sea, and is connected by a narrow artificial
causeway with a rocky peninsula, or island, as it is more generally
termed, that stretches yet 700 or 800 yards further into the Straits of
Gibraltar. This is the most southerly point of Europe, being in latitude
30° 0' 56", which is nearly six miles to the south of Europa Point.
The island is of a circular form, and towards the sea is merely defended
by three open batteries, armed _en barbette_; but to the land side, it
presents a bastioned front, that sweeps the causeway with a most
formidable fire. A lighthouse stands at the extreme point of the island,
which also contains a casemated barrack for troops, and some remarkable
old tanks, perhaps of a date much prior to the arrival of the Saracens.
The foundation of the town of Tarifa is usually ascribed to Tarik Aben
Zaide, the first Mohammedan invader of Spain; who probably, previous to
crossing the Straits, had marked the island as offering a favourable
landing-place, as well as a secure depôt for his stores, and a safe
refuge in the event of a repulse. Mariana, however, imagined, that
Tartessus, or Carteia--which he considered the same place--stood upon
this spot; and, under this persuasion, he speaks of the admiral of the
Pompeian faction retiring there, after his action with Cæsar's fleet,
and drawing a chain across the mouth of the port to protect his
vessels; a circumstance which alone proves that Carteia was not Tarifa;
since it must be evident to any one who has examined the coast
attentively, that no port could possibly have existed there, which could
have afforded shelter to a large fleet, and been closed by drawing a
chain across its mouth.
Others, again, suppose Tarifa to occupy the site of Mellaria. But I
rather incline to the opinion of those who consider it doubtful whether
_any_ Roman town stood upon the spot; an opinion for which I think I
shall hereafter be able to assign sufficient reason.
As Tarifa was the field wherein the Mohammedan invaders of Spain
obtained their first success, so, six centuries after, did it become the
scene of one of their most humiliating defeats; the battle of the
_Salado_, gained A.D. 1340, by Alphonso XI., of Castile, having
inflicted a blow upon them, from the effects of which they never
recovered. Four crowned heads were engaged in that sanguinary
conflict--the King of Portugal, as the ally of the Castillian hero;
Jusuf, King of Granada; and Abu Jacoob, Emperor of Morocco. The
last-named, according to the Spanish historians, had crossed over from
Africa, with an army of nearly half a million of men, to avenge the
death of his son, Abou Melic; killed the preceding year at the battle of
Arcos.
The little river, which gave its name to that important battle gained by
the Christian army on its banks, winds through a plain to the westward
of Tarifa, crossing the road to Cadiz, at about two miles from the
town.[20] The valley is about three miles across, and extends a
considerable distance inland. It is watered by several mountain streams
that fall into the Salado. That rivulet is the last which is met with,
and is crossed by a long wooden bridge on five stone piers.
The term _Salado_ is of very common occurrence amongst the names of the
rivers of the south of Spain; though in most cases it is used rather as
a term signifying a _water-course_, than as the name of the rivulet:
thus _El Salado de Moron_ is a stream issuing from the mountains in the
vicinity of the town of Moron; _El Salado de Porcuna_ is a torrent that
washes the walls of Porcuna; and so with the rest. As, however, the word
in Spanish signifies salt, (used adjectively) it has led to many
mistakes, and occasioned much perplexity in determining the course of
the river _Salsus_, mentioned so frequently by Hirtius; but to which, in
point of fact, the word _Salado_ has no reference whatever, being
applied to numerous streams that are perfectly free from salt.
On the other hand, it might naturally be supposed that the word _Salido_
(the past participle of the verb _Salir_, to issue) would have been used
if intended to signify a source or stream issuing from the mountains.
It seems to me, therefore, that the word _Salado_ must be a derivation
from the Arabic _S[=a]l_, a water-course in a valley; which, differing
so little in sound from _Salido_, continued to be used after the
expulsion of the Moors; until at length, its derivation being lost, it
came to be considered as signifying what the word actually means in
Spanish, viz. impregnated with salt.
At the western extremity of the plain, watered by the _Salado de
Tarifa_, a barren Sierra terminates precipitously along the coast,
leaving but a narrow space between its foot and the sea, for the passage
of the road to Cadiz. Under shelter of the eastern side of this Sierra,
standing in the plain, but closing the little Thermopylæ, I think we may
place the Roman town of Mellaría,[21] eighteen miles from Carteia, and
six from Belone Claudia, according to the Itinerary of Antoninus; and
mentioned by Strabo as a place famous for curing fish.
Tarifa, which, as I have said before, is supposed by some authors to be
on the site of Mellaría, is in the first place rather too near Calpe
Carteia to accord with that supposition; and in the next, it is far too
distant from Belon; the site of which is well established by numerous
ruins visible to this day, at a _despoblado_,[22] called Bolonia.
It may be objected, on the other hand, that the position which I suppose
Mellaría to have occupied, is as much too far removed from Carteia, as
Tarifa is too near it: and following the present road, it certainly is
so. But there is no reason to take for granted that the ancient military
way followed this line; on the contrary, as the Romans rather preferred
straight to circuitous roads, we may suppose that, as soon as the nature
of the country admitted of it, they carried their road away from the
coast, to avoid the promontory running into the sea at Tarifa. Now, an
opportunity for them to do this presented itself on arriving at the
valley of Gualmesi, from whence a road might very well have been carried
direct to the spot that I assign for the position of Mellaría; which
road, by saving two miles of the circuitous route by Tarifa, would fix
Mellaría at the prescribed distance from Carteia, and also bring it
(very nearly) within the number of miles from Belon, specified in the
Roman Itinerary, viz. six; whereas, if Mellaría stood where Tarifa now
does, the distance would be nearly _ten_.
The city of Belon appears to have slipped bodily from the side of the
mountain on which it was built (probably the result of an earthquake),
as its ruins may be distinctly seen when the tide is out and the water
calm, stretching some distance into the Atlantic. Vestiges of an
aqueduct may also be traced for nearly a league along the coast, by
means of which the town was supplied with water from a spring that rises
near Cape Palomo, the southernmost point of the same Sierra under which
Belon was situated.
In following out the Itinerary of Antoninus--according to which the
total distance from Calpe to Gades is made seventy-six miles[23]--the
next place mentioned after Belon Claudia is Besippone, distant twelve
miles. This place, it appears to me, must have stood on the coast a
little way beyond the river Barbate; and not at Vejer, (which is several
miles inland) as some have supposed; for the distance from the ruins of
Bolonia to that town far exceeds that specified in the Itinerary.
Vejer (or Beger, as it is indifferently written) may probably be where a
Roman town called Besaro stood, of which Besippo was the port; the
latter only having been noticed in the Itinerary from it being situated
on the direct military route from Carteia to Gades; the former by
Pliny,[24] as being a place of importance within the _Conventus
Gaditani_.
From Besippone to Mergablo--the next station of the Itinerary--is six
miles; and at that distance from the spot where I suppose the first of
those places to have stood, there is a very ancient tower on the sea
side, (to the westward of Cape Trafalgar) from which an old, apparently
Roman, paved road, now serving no purpose whatever, leads for several
miles into the country. From this tower to Cadiz--crossing the Santi
Petri river _at its mouth_--the distance exceeds but little twenty-four
miles; the number given in the Itinerary.
The distances I have thus laid down agree pretty well throughout with
those marked on the Roman military way; which, it may be supposed, were
not _very exactly_ measured, since the fractions of miles have in every
case been omitted. The only objection which can be urged to my
measurements is, that they make the Roman miles too long. Having,
however, taken the Olympic stadium (in this instance) as my standard, of
which there are but 600 to a degree of the Meridian, or seventy-five
Roman miles; and as my measurements, even with it, are still rather
_short_, the reply is very simple, viz. that the adoption of any
_smaller_ scale would but _increase the error_.
From the spot where I suppose Mellaría to have stood--which is marked by
a little chapel standing on a detached pinnacle of the _Sierra de
Enmedio_, overhanging the sea--the distance to the Rio Baqueros is two
miles; the road keeping along a flat and narrow strip of land, between
the foot of the mountain and the sea.
The coast now trends to the south west, a high wooded mountain,
distinguished by the name of the Sierra de _San Mateo_, stretching some
way into the sea, and forming the steep sandy cape of _Paloma_, a league
on the western side of which are the ruins of Belon.
The road to Cadiz, however, leaves the sea-shore to seek a more level
country, and, inclining slightly to the north, keeping up the _Val de
Baqueros_ for five miles, reaches a pass between the mountains of San
Mateo and Enmedio.
The valley is very wild and beautiful. Laurustinus, arbutus, oleander,
and rhododendron are scattered profusely over the bed of the torrent
that rushes down it; and the bounding mountains are richly clothed with
forest trees.
From the pass an extensive view is obtained of the wide plain of Vejer,
and _laguna de la Janda_ in its centre. Descending for two miles and a
half,--the double-peaked Sierra _de la Plata_ being now on the left
hand, and that of _Fachenas_, studded with water-mills, on the
right--the road reaches the eastern extremity of the above-named plain,
where the direct road from Algeciras to Cadiz falls in, and that of
Medina Sidonia branches off to the right. The Cadiz route here inclines
again to the westward, and, in three miles, reaches the _Venta de
Tavilla_.
From hence two roads present themselves for continuing the journey; one
proceeding along the edge of the plain; the other keeping to the left,
and making a slight détour by the _Sierra de Retin_; and when the plain
is flooded, it is necessary to take this latter route. Let those who
find themselves in this predicament avoid making the solitary hovel,
called the _Venta de Retin_, their resting-place for the night, as I was
once obliged to do; for, unless they are partial to a guard bed, and to
go to it supperless, they will not meet with accommodation and
entertainment to their liking.
We will return, however, to the _Venta de Tabilla_, which is a fraction
of a degree better than that of Retin. From thence the distance to Vejer
is fourteen miles. The first two pass over a gently swelling country,
planted with corn; the next six along the low wooded hills bordering the
_laguna de la Janda_; the remainder over a hilly, and partially wooded
tract, whence the sea is again visible at some miles distance on the
left.
In winter the greater part of the plain of Vejer is covered with water,
there being no outlet for the _Laguna_; which, besides being the
reservoir for all the rain that falls on the surrounding hills, is fed
by several considerable streams.
A project to drain the lake was entertained some years ago; but, like
all other Spanish projects, it failed, after an abortive trial. In its
present state, therefore, the whole surface of the plain is available
only for pasture; and numerous herds are subsisted on it. The gentle
slopes bounding it, being secure from inundation, are planted with corn.
Vejer is situated on the northern extremity of a bare mountain ridge,
that stretches inland from the coast about five miles, and terminates in
a stupendous precipice along the right bank of the river Barbate.
Towards the sea, however, it slopes more gradually, forming the forked
headland, for ever celebrated in history, called Cape Trafalgar.
When arrived within half a mile of the lofty cliff whereon the town
stands, the road enters a narrow gorge, by which the Barbate escapes to
the ocean; this part of its course offering a remarkable contrast to the
rest, which is through an extensive flat.
A stone bridge of three curiously constructed arches, said to be Roman,
gives a passage over the stream; and a venta is situated on the right
bank, immediately under the town; the houses of which may be seen edging
the precipice, at a height of five or six hundred feet above the river.
The road to Cadiz, and consequently all others,--it being the most
southerly,--avoids the ascent to Vejer, which is very steep, and so
circuitous as to occupy fully half an hour. But the place is well worth
a visit, if only for the sake of the view from the church steeple, which
is very extensive and beautiful; and taken altogether, it is a much
better town than could be expected, considering its truly out-of-the-way
situation. That it was a Roman station, its position alone sufficiently
proves; but whether it be the Besaro, or Belippo, or even Besippo of
Pliny, seems doubtful.
It occupies a tolerably level space; though bounded on three sides by
precipices, and is consequently still a very defensible post,
notwithstanding its walls are all destroyed. The streets are narrow, but
clean and well paved; and the place contains many good houses, and
several large convents. The inns, however, are such wretched places,
that on one occasion, when I passed a night there, I had to seek a
resting-place in a private house.
The Barbate is navigable for large barges up to the bridge; but the
difficulty of access to the town prevents its carrying on much trade.
The population amounts to about 6,000 souls.
There is a delightful walk down a wooded ravine on the western side of
the town, by which the road to Cadiz and the valley of the Barbate may
be regained quicker than by retracing our footsteps to the Venta. Of
this latter I feel bound to say--after much experience--that there is
not a better halting-place between Cadiz and Gibraltar; albeit, many
stories are told of robberies committed even within its very walls. Let
the traveller take care, therefore, to show his pistols to mine host,
and to lock his bedroom door.
We resumed our journey with the dawn. The road keeps for nearly a mile
along the narrow, flat strip between the bank of the river, and the high
cliff whereon the town is perched. The gorge then terminates, and an
open country permits the roads to the different neighbouring places to
branch off in their respective directions. From hence to Medina Sidonia
is thirteen miles; to Alcalà de los Gazules, twenty; and to
Chiclana--whither we were bound--fifteen;--but, leaving these three
roads on the right, we proceeded by a rather more circuitous route to
the last mentioned place, by Conil and Barrosa.
The distance from Vejer to Conil is nine miles; the country undulated
and uninteresting. Conil is a large fishing town, containing a swarming
population of 8,000 souls. The smell of the houses where the tunny fish
(here taken in great abundance) are cut up and cured, extends inland for
several miles; but the inhabitants consider it very wholesome; and to my
animadversive remarks on the filth and effluvium of the place itself,
answer was made, "_no hay epidemia aqui_;"[25]--quite a sufficient
excuse, according to their ideas, for submitting to live the life of
hogs.
We arrived just as the fishermen had enclosed a shoal of Tunny with
their nets; so, putting up our horses, we waited to see the result of
their labours. The whole process is very interesting. The Tunny can be
discovered when at a very considerable distance from the land; as they
arrive in immense shoals, and cause a ripple on the surface of the
water, like that occasioned by a light puff of wind on a calm day. Men
are, therefore, stationed in the different watch towers along the coast,
to look out for them, and, immediately on perceiving a shoal, they make
signals to the fishermen, indicating the direction, distance, &c. Boats
are forthwith put to sea, and the fish are surrounded with a net of
immense size, but very fine texture, which is gradually hauled towards
the shore.
The tunny, coming in contact with this net, become alarmed, and make off
from it in the only direction left open to them. The boats follow, and
draw the net in, until the space in which the fish are confined is
sufficiently small to allow a second net, of great strength, to
circumscribe the first; which is then withdrawn. The tunny, although
very powerful, (being nearly the size and very much the shape of a
porpoise) have thus far been very quiet, seeking only to escape under
the net; and have hardly been perceptible to the spectators on the
beach. But, on drawing in the new net, and getting into shallow water,
their danger gives them the courage of despair, and furious are their
struggles to escape from their hempen prison.
The scene now becomes very animated. When the draught is heavy--as it
was in this instance--and there is a possibility of the net being
injured, and of the fish escaping if it be drawn at once to land, the
fishermen arm themselves with harpoons, or stakes, having iron hooks at
the end, and rush into the sea whilst the net is yet a considerable
distance from the shore, surrounding it, and shouting with all their
might to frighten the fish into shallow water, when they become
comparatively powerless.
In completing the investment of their prey, some of the fishermen are
obliged even to swim to the outer extremity of the net, where, holding
on by the floats with one hand, they strike, with singular dexterity,
such fish as approach the edge, in the hope of effecting their escape,
with a short harpoon held in the other. The men in the boats, at the
same time, keep up a continual splashing with their oars, to deter the
tunny from attempting to leap over the hempen enclosure; which,
nevertheless, many succeed in doing, amidst volleys of "_Carajos!_"
The fish are thus killed in the water, and then drawn in triumph on
shore. They are allowed to bleed very freely; and the entrails, roes,
livers, and eyes, are immediately cut out, being perquisites of
different authorities.
The flesh is salted, and exported in great quantities to Catalonia,
Valencia, and the northern provinces of the kingdom. A small quantity of
oil is extracted from the bones.
Some years since, the Duke of Medina Sidonia enjoyed the monopoly of the
tunny fishery on this part of the coast, which was calculated to have
given him a yearly profit of £4000 sterling. But, at the time of my
visit, he had been deprived of this privilege, much to the regret of the
inhabitants of Conil; for the nets and salting-houses, being the
property of the duke, had to be hired, and as there were no capitalists
in the place able to embark in so expensive a speculation as the
purchase of others, the "company" that engaged in the fishery was,
necessarily, composed of strangers to Conil, whose only object was to
obtain the greatest possible profit during the short period for which
they held the duke's property on lease. They, consequently, drove the
hardest bargain they could with the poor inhabitants, who, accustomed
all their lives to this employment, could not turn their hands to any
other, and were forced to submit.
I do not mean to defend monopolies in general, but what I have stated
shows, that in the present state of Spain they are almost unavoidable
evils. The inhabitants of Conil, at all events, complained most bitterly
of the change.
The fishery lasts from March to July, and the season of which I write
(then drawing to a close,) was considered a very successful one, 1300
tunny having been taken at Conil, and 1600 at Barrosa. Each fish is
worth ten dollars, or two pounds sterling. The falling off has, however,
been most extraordinary, as in former days we read of 70,000 fish having
been taken annually.
From Conil the road keeps along the coast for twelve miles, to Barrosa,
a spot occupying a distinguished place in the pages of history, but
marked only by an old tower on the coast, and a small building, called a
_vigia_, or watch-house, situated on a knoll that rises slightly above
the general level of the country. This was the great object of
contention on the celebrated 5th March, 1811.
Never, perhaps, were British soldiers placed under greater disadvantages
than on this glorious day, through the incapacity or pusillanimity, or
both, of the Spanish general who commanded in chief. And though far more
important victories have been gained by them, yet the cool bearing and
determined courage that shone forth so conspicuously on this occasion,
by completely removing the erroneous impression under which their
opponents laboured, as to the fitness of Englishmen for soldiers,
produced, perhaps, better effects than might have attended a victory
gained on a larger scale, under _more favourable_ circumstances.
I have met with Spaniards who absolutely shed tears when speaking of
this battle, in which they considered our troops had been so shamefully
abandoned by their countrymen, or rather by the general who led them.
Nor is it surprising that the English character should stand so high as
it does in this part of the Peninsula, when, within the short space of a
day's ride, three such names as Tarifa, Trafalgar, and Barrosa, are
successively brought to recollection.
The walls of the watch-house of Barrosa still bear the marks of mortal
strife, and the hill on which it stands is even yet strewed with the
bleached bones of the horses which fell there; but so slight is the
command the knoll possesses--indeed in so unimportant, pinched-up a
corner of the coast is it situated--that those who are not aware of the
unaccountable events which led to the battle, may well be surprised at
its having been chosen as a military position.
Striking into the pine-forest, which bounds the field of battle to the
west, we arrived in about half an hour at the bridge and mill of
Almanza, and proceeding onwards, in four miles reached Chiclana; first
winding round the base of a conical knoll, surmounted by a chapel
dedicated to _Santa Ana_.
Chiclana is the Highgate of the good citizens of Cadiz, and contains
many "genteel family residences," adapted for summer visiters; but the
place is disgracefully dirty, so that little benefit can be expected
from _change of air_. The gardens in its vicinage offer agreeable
promenades, however; and there is a fine view from the chapel of _Santa
Ana_, whence may be seen
"Fair Cadiz, rising o'er the dark blue sea."
Chiclana contains a population of about 6000 souls, and boasts of
possessing a tolerably good _posada_, whereat _calesas_, and other
vehicles, may be hired to proceed to the neighbouring towns; the roads
to all, even the direct one to Vejer, being open to wheel carriages.
A rivulet bathes the north side of the town, dividing it from a large
suburb, and flowing on to the Santi Petri river. The Cadiz road,
crossing this stream by a long wooden bridge, proceeds for three miles
and a half (in company with the routes to _Puerto Santa Maria_, _Puerto
Real_, and _Xeres_,)[26] along a raised causeway, which keeps it above
the saltpans and marshes that render the _Isla de Leon_ so difficult of
approach. Arrived at a wide stream, a ferry-boat affords the means of
passage; and, on gaining the southern bank, the great road from Cadiz to
Madrid (passing through the towns above mentioned) presents itself.
Taking the direction of Cadiz, our passports were immediately demanded
at the entrance of a fortified post, called the _Portazgo_,[27] the
first advanced redoubt of the multiplied defences of the _Isla de Leon_.
From thence the road is conducted, for nearly a mile, through bogs and
saltpans, as before, to the _Puente Zuazo_, a bridge over the river
_Santi Petri_, or _San Pedro_. This, by the way, is rather an arm of the
sea than a river, since it communicates between the bay of Cadiz and the
ocean, and forms the _Isla_ (island) _de Leon_, which otherwise would be
an isthmus. The channel is very wide, deep, and muddy; the bridge has
five arches, and was built by a Doctor _Juan Sanchez de Zuazo_ (whence
its name), on the foundation of one that existed in the days of the
Romans, and is supposed to have served as an aqueduct to supply Cadiz
with water from the _Sierra de Xeres_. It is protected by a double tête
de pont; and has one arch cut, and its parapets pierced with embrasures,
to enable artillery to fire down the stream.
Soon after reaching the right bank of the San Pedro, the long straggling
town of the Isla, or, more properly, _San Fernando_, commences. The main
street is upwards of a mile in length, wide, and rather handsome. The
population of this place is estimated at 30,000 souls; but it varies
considerably, according to the date of the last visitation of yellow
fever.
At the southern extremity of the city a low range of hills begins, which
stretches for a mile and a half towards the sea. The causeway to Cadiz,
however, is directed straight upon the _Torre Gorda_, standing upon the
shore more to the westward, and three miles distant from the town of
_San Fernando_.
Here commences the narrow sandy isthmus that connects the point of land
on which Cadiz is built with the _Isla_. It is five miles long, and in
some places so narrow, that the waves of the Atlantic on one side, and
those of the bay of Cadiz on the other, reach the walls of the causeway.
About half way between the _Torre Gorda_ and Cadiz, the isthmus is cut
across by a fort called the _Cortadura_, beyond which it becomes much
wider.
At five miles to the eastward of the _Torre Gorda_, or Tower of
Hercules, as it is also called, is the mouth of the Santi Petri river,
and four miles only beyond it is the _Vigia de Barrosa_; so that the
distance from thence to Cadiz is almost doubled by making the détour by
Chiclana. It is more than probable, therefore, that the Romans had a
military post, commanding a _flying bridge_, at the mouth of the river;
for, in the Itinerary of Antoninus, the coast-road from _Calpe_ to
_Gades_ was not directed from _Mergablo_ "_ad pontem_," as in the route
laid down from _Gades_ to _Hispalis_ (Seville), but "_ad
Herculem_;"--that is, it may be presumed, to the temple of Hercules,[28]
situated, according to common tradition, on a part of the coast near the
mouth of the Santi Petri river, over which the waves of the Atlantic now
roll unobstructed; and the supposed site of which temple is the same
distance from Cadiz as the bridge of Zuazo, thereby agreeing with the
Roman Itineraries.
At the distance of 1200 yards from the river's mouth a rocky islet rises
from the sea, bearing on its scarped sides the inapproachable little
castle of _Santi Petri_, the bleached walls of which are said to have
been built from the ruins of the famed temple of Hercules.
Contemptible as this isolated fortress appears to be, as well from its
size as from any thing that art has done for it, the fate of Cadiz,
nevertheless, depends in a great measure upon its preservation; since,
from the command the castle possesses of the entrance of the river, an
enemy, who may gain possession of it, is enabled to force the passage of
the stream under its protecting fire, and take in reverse all the
defenses of the _Isla de Leon_. Cadiz would thereby be reduced to its
own resources; and strong as Cadiz is, yet, like all fortresses defended
only by art, it must eventually fall.
The surrender of the castle of _Santi Petri_ to the French, in the siege
of 1823, occasioned the immediate fall of Cadiz, its defenders seeing
that further resistance would be unavailing; whereas, the capture of the
_Trocadero_, about which so much was thought, did little towards the
reduction of the place. Indeed, the _Trocadero_ was in possession of the
enemy during the whole period of the former siege, 1810-12.
CHAPTER III.
CADIZ--ITS FOUNDATION--VARIOUS NAMES--PAST PROSPERITY--MADE A FREE
PORT IN THE HOPE OF RUINING THE TRADE OF GIBRALTAR--UNJUST
RESTRICTIONS ON THE COMMERCE OF THE BRITISH FORTRESS--DESCRIPTION
OF CADIZ--ITS VAUNTED AGREMENS--SOCIETY--MONOTONOUS
LIFE--CATHEDRAL--ADMIRABLY BUILT SEA WALL--NAVAL ARSENAL OF LA
CARRACA--ROAD TO XERES--PUERTO REAL--PUERTO DE SANTA
MARIA--XERES--ITS FILTH--WINE STORES--METHOD OF PREPARING
WINE--DOUBTS OF THE ANCIENT AND DERIVATION OF THE PRESENT NAME OF
XERES--CARTHUSIAN CONVENT--GUADALETE--BATTLE OF XERES.
The date of the foundation of Cadiz is lost in the impenetrable chaos of
heathen mythology. One of the numerous conquerors, distinguished by the
general name of Hercules, who, in early ages, carried their victorious
arms to the remotest extremities of Europe, appears to have erected a
temple at the westernmost point of the rocky ledge on which Cadiz now
stands; and round this temple, doubtless, a town gradually sprung up.
But the place came only to be known and distinguished by the name
_Gadira_, when the commercial enterprise of the Phoenicians led them
to make a settlement on this defensible island; and the foundation of
the temple dedicated to Hercules, which Strabo describes as situated at
the eastern extremity of the same island, "where it is separated from
the continent by a strait only about a stadium in width," is ascribed to
Pygmalion, nearly nine centuries before the Christian era.
Gadira, or Gades, to which the name now became corrupted, was the first
town of Spain forcibly occupied by the Carthagenians, who, throwing off
the mask of friendship, took possession of it about the year B.C. 240.
It was the last place that afforded them a refuge in the war which
shortly followed with the Romans, into whose hands it fell, B.C. 203.
From the Romans it afterwards received the name of Augusta Julia,
probably from its adherence to the cause of Cæsar, who restored to the
temple of Hercules the treasures of which it had been plundered during
the civil wars that had previously distracted the country. But its old
name, altered apparently to its present orthography by the Moors, seems
always to have prevailed.
Under the Moslems, Cadiz does not appear to have enjoyed any very great
consideration; and it was wrested from them without difficulty by San
Fernando, soon after the capture of Seville.
On the discovery of America, Cadiz became, next to Seville (which was
endowed with peculiar privileges), the richest city of Spain. Its
imports at that time amounted annually to eleven millions sterling. But
since the loss of the American colonies, its prosperity has been rapidly
declining; and some years back, when the intestine troubles of Spain
rendered it impossible for her to afford protection to her commerce, the
trade of Cadiz may be said to have ceased.
A _fillip_ was, however, given to its commerce, for it would be absurd
to call it an attempt to restore it--about nine years since, by making
it a free port. But this apparently liberal act, not having been
accompanied by any reduction of the duties imposed on foreign produce
introduced for consumption into the country, was merely a disgraceful
contrivance on the part of the king and his ministers to obtain money.
On the promulgation of the edict constituting Cadiz a free port, it
became at once an entrepôt for the produce of all nations; the goods
brought to it being subjected only to a trifling charge for landing, &c.
The proceeds of this pitiful tax went to the coffers of the
municipality, which had paid the king handsomely for the "act of grace"
bestowed upon the city; and no source of revenue was opened to the
public treasury by the grant of this special privilege, since the goods
landed at Cadiz could only be carried into the interior of the country
on payment of duties that amounted to an absolute prohibition of them,
and they were, consequently, introduced surreptitiously by bribing the
city authorities and custom-house officers; who, in their turn, paid
large sums for their respective situations to the ministers of the
crown!
Such is the way in which the commercial concerns of Spain are conducted.
The whole affair was, in fact, a temporary expedient to raise money by
selling Cadiz permission to smuggle. At the same time, the Spanish
government--by offering foreign merchants a mart which, at first sight,
seemed more conveniently situated for disposing of their goods than
Gibraltar--hoped to give a death-blow to the commerce of the British
fortress, which it had found to thrive, in spite of all the iniquitous
restrictions imposed upon it; such, for instance, as the exaction of
duties on goods shipped from thence, double in amount to those levied on
the _same articles_, if brought from the ports of France and Italy; the
depriving even Spanish vessels, if coming from, or touching at,
Gibraltar, of all advantages in regard to the rate of duty otherwise
granted to the national flag;[29] and various other abuses, to which it
is astonishing the British government has so long quietly submitted.
The scheme, however, though successful for a time against Gibraltar, did
no permanent good to Cadiz; and the trade of the place has relapsed into
its former sickly state.
"Cadiz! sweet Cadiz," has been so extolled by modern authors, that I am
almost afraid to say what I think of it. It strikes me, that the very
favourable impression it usually makes on my countrymen is owing to its
being, in most cases, the first place they see after leaving England;
or, perchance, the first place they have seen out of England; to whose
gloomy brick-built towns its bright houses and battlements offer as
agreeable a contrast, as the picturesque costume of its inhabitants does
to the ill-cut garments of the natives of our island.
Under any circumstances, however, the first impression made by Cadiz is
favourable, unless you enter by the fish-market. The streets are
straight, tolerably well lighted, and remarkably well paved, many of
them having even the convenience of a _trottoir_. There is one handsome
square, and the houses, generally, are lofty, and those which are
inhabited are clean. But many are falling rapidly to decay, from the
diminished population and prosperity of the place.
On the other hand, the city does not contain one handsome public
building; and, if one leaves the principal thoroughfares, its boasted
cleanliness and "sweetness" turn out to be mere poetical delusions. In
fact, the vaunted _agrémens_ of the city to me were undiscoverable.
There is but one road to ride upon, one promenade to walk upon, one
sheet of water to boat upon. The Alameda, on which much hyperbolical
praise has been bestowed, is a dusty gravel walk, extending about half a
mile along the ramparts. It is lined--not shaded--with stunted trees,
and commands a fine view of the marsh-environed bay when the tide is in,
and a disagreeable effluvium from it when the tide is out; and, I must
say, that I never could perceive any more "harmony and fascination" in
the movements of the pavonizing _gaditanas_ who frequent it, than in
those of the fair promenaders of other Spanish towns. The _Plaza de San
Antonio_ is a square, situated in the heart of the city, which, paved
with large flag-stones, and lighted with lamps, may be considered a kind
of treadmill, that fashion has condemned her votaries to take an hour's
exercise in after the fatigues of the day.
The society of Cadiz is now but second rate; for it is no longer
inhabited as in bygone days, when the nobility from all parts of the
kingdom sought shelter behind its walls. At the Tertulias of the first
circle, gaming is the principal pastime, and I have been given to
understand that the play is very high. The public amusements are few.
There is a tolerable theatre, where Italian Operas are sometimes
performed; but, for the great national diversion, the bull-fight, the
inhabitants have to cross the bay to Puerto Santa Maria.
In fine, for one whose time is not fully occupied by business, I know of
few _less_ agreeable places of residence than Cadiz. The transient
visiter, who prolongs his stay beyond two days, will find time hang very
heavy on his hands; for having, in that short space, seen all the place
contains, he will be driven to wile away the tedious hours after the
usual manner of its inhabitants, viz., by devoting the morning to the
_cafés_ and billiard-rooms, the afternoon to the _siesta_, evening to
the Alameda, dusk to the Plaza San Antonio and its _Neverias_,[30] and
night to the Tertulias--for such is the life of a Spanish _man of
pleasure_!
The hospitable mansion of the British Consul General affords those who
have the good fortune to possess his acquaintance a happy relief from
this monotonous and wearisome life; and, besides meeting there the best
society the place affords, the lovers of the fine arts will derive much
gratification from the inspection of Mr. Brackenbury's picture gallery,
which contains many choice paintings of Murillo, and the best Spanish
Masters.
What few other good paintings Cadiz possesses are scattered amongst
private houses. The churches contain none of any merit. In one of the
Franciscan convents, however, is to be seen a painting that excites much
interest, as being the last which occupied the pencil of Murillo, though
it was not finished by him. Our conductor told me that a most
distinguished English nobleman had offered 500 guineas for it, but the
pious monks refused to sell it to a heretic!--Perhaps, His Grace did not
know before on what _conscientious_ grounds his liberal offer had been
declined.
The old Cathedral is not worth visiting. The new one, as it is called,
was commenced in the days of the city's prosperity; but the source from
whence the funds for building it were raised, failed ere it was half
finished; and there it stands, a perfect emblem of Spain herself!--a
pile of the most valuable materials, planned on a scale of excessive
magnificence, but put together without the slightest taste, and falling
to decay for want of revenue![31]
The walls of the city--excepting those of its land front, which are
remarkably well constructed, and kept in tolerable order--are in a
deplorable state of dilapidation, and in some places the sea has
undermined, and made such breaches in them, as even to threaten the
very existence of the city, should it be exposed to a tempest similar to
that which did so much mischief to it some seventy years since. This
decay is particularly observable, too, on the south side of the
fortress, where the sea-wall is exposed to the full sweep of the
Atlantic; and here the mischief has resulted chiefly from the want of
timely attention to its repairs, for the wall itself is a perfect
masterpiece of the building art. Regarding it as such, I venture to
devote a small space to its description, conceiving that a hint may be
advantageously taken therefrom in the future construction of piers,
wharfs, &c. in our own country; and I am the more induced to do so,
since so small a portion of the work remains in its pristine state, that
it already must be spoken of rather as a thing that _has been_, than one
which _is_.
The great object of the builder was to secure the foundation of his wall
from the assaults of the ocean, which, at times, breaks with excessive
violence upon this coast. For this purpose, he formed an artificial
beach, by clearing away the loose rocks which lay strewed about, and
inserting in the space thus prepared and levelled, a strong wooden
frame-work formed of cases dovetailed into and well fastened to each
other. These cases were filled with stones, and secured by numerous
piles. The surface was composed of beams of wood, placed close
together, carefully caulked, and laid so as to form an inclined plane,
at an angle of eight degrees and a half with the horizon.
This beach extended twenty-seven yards from the sea-wall; and its foot,
by resting against a kind of breakwater formed of large stones, was
saved from being exposed, vertically, to the action of the sea. The
waves, thus broke upon the artificial beach, and running up its smooth
surface without meeting the slightest resistance, expended, in a great
measure, their strength ere reaching the foot of the wall.
To avoid, however, the shock which would still have been felt by the
waves breaking against the ramparts, (especially when the sea was
unusually agitated) had the planes of the beach and wall met at an
angle, the upper portion of the surface of the artificial beach--for
about fifteen feet--was laid with large blocks of stone, and united in a
curve, or inverted arch, with the casing of the walls of the rampart;
and the waves being, by this means, conducted upwards, without
experiencing a check, spent their remaining strength in the air, and
fell back upon the wooden beach in a harmless shower of spray.
So well was the work executed, that many portions of the arch which
connected the beach with the scarped masonry of the rampart are yet
perfect, and may be seen projecting from the face of the wall, about
twenty feet above its foundation; although the beach upon which it
rested has been entirely swept away.
Another cause, besides neglect, has contributed greatly to the
destruction of this work; namely, the injudicious removal of the stones
and ledges of rock which formed the breakwater of the beach, for
erecting houses and repairing the walls of the city.
The ride round the ramparts would be an agreeable variety to the
_eternal paseo_ on the _Camino de Ercoles_,[32] but for the insufferable
odours that arise from the vast heaps of filth deposited on one part of
it. To such an extent has this nuisance reached, that, without another
river Alpheus, even the hard-working son of Jupiter (the city's reputed
founder) would find its removal no easy task.
The arsenal of the _Carracas_ is situated on the northern bank of the
Santi Petri river, about half a mile within the mouth by which that
channel communicates with the bay of Cadiz, and at a distance of two
leagues from the city, to which it has no access by land. Its plan is
laid on a magnificent scale, and it may boast of having equipped some of
the most formidable armaments that ever put to sea; but it is now one
vast ruin, hardly possessing the means of fitting out a cockboat. A
fire, that reduced the greater part of it to ashes some five and thirty
years since, furnishes the national vanity with an agreeable excuse for
its present condition.
The road from Cadiz to Port St. Mary's is very circuitous, and offers
little to interest any persons but military men and salt-refiners. I
will, therefore, pass rapidly over it--which its condition enables me to
do--merely observing that, from the branching off of the Chaussée to
Chiclana at the _Portazgo_, it makes a wide sweep round the salt marshes
at the head of the bay of Cadiz, to gain _Puerto Real_ (eighteen miles
from Cadiz); and then leaving the peninsula of the _Trocadero_ on the
left, in four miles reaches a long wooden bridge over the
Guadalete--here called the river San Pedro. Two miles further on it
crosses another stream by a similar means; and this second river, which
is connected with the Guadalete by a canal, has become the principal
channel of communication between Xeres and the bay of Cadiz.
A road now turns off to the right to Xeres; another, on the left, to
Puerto Santa Maria; and that which continues straight on proceeds to San
Lucar, on the Guadalquivír.
Puerto Real is a large but decayed town, possessing but little
trade,[33] and no manufactories. Its environs, however, are
fertile--enabling it to contend with Port St. Mary's in supplying the
Cadiz market with fruit and vegetables;--and a good crop of hay might
even be taken from its streets after the autumnal rains!--The population
is estimated at 12,000 souls.
Puerto Santa Maria is a yet larger town than Puerto Real, and is
computed to contain 18,000 inhabitants. It is situated within the mouth
and extending along the right bank of the river, into which the
Guadalete has been partly turned. The entrance to the harbour is
obstructed by a sand bank, which is impassable at low tide; and at
times, when the wind is strong from the S. W., this bar interrupts
altogether the water communication with Cadiz.[34]
The distance between the two places, across the bay, is but five miles;
by the causeway, twenty-four.
The main street of Puerto Santa Maria is of great length, wide, and
rather handsome; and the place has, altogether, a very thriving look;
for which it is indebted, as well to the great share it enjoys of the
Xeres wine trade,[35] as to the fruitfulness of its fields and orchards.
The country, to some considerable extent round the town, is perfectly
flat; and the soil (a dark alluvial deposit,) is rich, and highly
cultivated; it is, in fact, the market-garden of Cadiz, the inhabitants
of which place would die of scurvy, if cut off for six months from the
lemon-groves of Port St. Mary.
The position of Puerto Santa Maria seems to correspond pretty well with
that of the Portus Gaditanus of Antoninus, viz., 14 miles from the
Puente Zuazo, (_Pons_;) the difference being only that between English
and Roman miles. But, besides that there is every appearance of the
Guadalete having altered its course, and consequently swept away all
traces of the Roman port, (or yet more ancient one of _Menesthes_,
according to Strabo,) a fertile soil is, of all things, the most
inimical to the _preservation_ of _ruins_; for gardeners will have no
respect for old stones when they stand in the way of cabbage-plants. It
would, therefore, be vain to look for any vestiges of the ancient town,
in the vicinity of the modern one.
To proceed to Xeres, we must retrace our steps, along the chaussée to
Cadiz, for about a mile; when, leaving the two roads branching off to
Puerto Real and San Lucar on the right and left, our way continues
straight on, traverses a cultivated plain for another mile, and then
ascends a rather steep ridge, distinguished in this flat country by the
name of _Sierra de Xeres_, though scarcely 500 feet high.
The view from the summit of this ridge is, nevertheless, remarkably
fine. It embraces the whole extent of the bay of Cadiz; the bright towns
which stand upon its margin; the curiously intersected country that cuts
them off from each other; and the winding courses of the Guadalete and
Santi Petri.
The slope of the hill is very gradual on the side facing Xeres, and the
view is tame in comparison with that in the opposite direction. The
road, which traverses a country covered with corn and olives, is
_carriageable_ throughout; but there is a better route, which turns the
Sierra to the eastward, keeping nearer the marshes of the Guadalete. The
distance from Puerto Santa Maria to Xeres, by the direct road, is nine
miles; by the post route, ten.
Xeres is situated in the lap of two rounded hillocks, which shelter it
to the east and west; and it covers a considerable extent of ground. The
city, properly so called, is embraced by an old crenated Moorish wall,
which, though enclosing a labyrinth of narrow, ill-built, and worse
drained streets, is of no great circuit, and is so intermixed with the
houses of the suburbs, as to be visible only here and there. The limits
of the ancient town are well defined, however, by the numerous gateways
still standing, and which, from the augmented size of the place, appear
to be scattered about it without any object. Some of the old buildings
and narrow streets are very sketchy, and the number of gables and
chimneys cannot fail to strike one who has been long accustomed to the
flat-roofed cities of Andalusia.
The principal merchants of the place reside mostly in the suburbs;
where, besides having greater space for their necessarily extensive
premises, their wine stores are better situated for ventilation; a very
important auxiliary in bringing the juice of the grape to a due state of
perfection. The numerous clean and lofty stores, interspersed with
commodious and well-built houses, gardens, greenhouses, &c., give the
suburbs an agreeable, refreshing appearance. But it is needful to walk
the streets with nose in air, and eyes fixed on things above; for,
though much wider, and consequently more freely exposed to the action of
the sun and air, than those of the circumvallated city, they are yet
more filthy, and quite as nauseating. Now and then, indeed, a generous
brown sherry odour salutes the third sense, counteracting, in some
degree, the unwholesome effects of the noxious cloacal miasms. But the
bad scents prevail in the proportion of ten to one; and, like the
far-famed distilling city of Cologne, Xeres seems to have bottled up,
and hermetically sealed, all its sweets for exportation.
The population of the place is enormous--being estimated at no less
than 50,000 souls. But the amount is subject to great variations,
dependant on the recentness of the last endemic fever, generated in its
pestiferous gutters. The inhabitants are all, more or less, connected
with the wine trade--which is the only thing thought of or talked of in
the place.
The store-houses are all above ground. They are immense buildings,
having lofty roofs supported on arches, springing from rows of slender
columns; and their walls are pierced with numerous windows, to admit of
a thorough circulation of air. Some are so large as to be capable of
containing 4000 butts, and are cool, even in the most sultry weather.
The exhalations are, nevertheless, rather _overcoming_, even unaided by
the numerous _samples_, of which one is tempted to make trial. The
number of butts annually made, or, more correctly speaking, _collected_,
at Xeres, amounts to 30,000. Of this number, one half is exported to
England, and includes the produce of nearly all the choicest vineyards
of Xeres; for, in selecting their wines for shipment, the Xeres houses
carefully avoid mixing their first-growth wines with those of lighter
quality, collected from the vineyards of Moguer, San Lucar, and Puerto
Real; or even with such as are produced on their own inferior grounds.
The remaining 15,000 butts are in part consumed in the country; where a
light wine, having what is called a _Manzanilla_[36] flavour, is
preferred--or sold to the shippers from other places, where they are
generally mixed with inferior wines.
The total number of butts shipped, annually, from the different ports
round the bay of Cadiz, may be taken at the following average--
From Xeres 15,000 almost all to England.
" Puerto Santa Maria 12,000 chiefly to England and the
United States.
{ principally to the Habana,
" Chiclana 3,000{ the Ports of Mexico, and
" Puerto Real 500{ Buenos Ayres.
-------
Total 30,500
-------
But, besides the above, a prodigious quantity of wine finds its way to
England from Moguer and San Lucar, which one never hears of but under
the common denomination of Sherry.
Most of the principal merchants are growers, as well as venders of wine;
which, with foreign houses, renders it necessary that one partner of the
firm, at least, should be a Roman Catholic; for "_heretics_" cannot hold
lands in Spain. Those who are growers have a decided advantage over such
as merely make up wines; for the latter are liable to have the produce
of the inferior vineyards of San Lucar, Moguer, and other places, mixed
up by the grower of whom they purchase. All Sherries, however, are
_manufactured_; for, it would be almost as difficult to get an unmixed
butt of wine from a Xeres merchant, as a direct answer from a quaker.
But there is no concealment in this mixing process; and it is even quite
necessary, in order to keep up the stock of old wines, which, otherwise,
would soon be consumed.
These are kept in huge casks--not much inferior in size to the great ton
of Heidelberg--called "_Madre_"[37] butts; and some of these old ladies
contain wine that is 120 years of age. It must, however, be confessed,
that the plan adopted in keeping them up, partakes somewhat of the
nature of "_une imposture delicate_;" since, whenever a gallon of wine
is taken from the 120 year old butt, it is replaced by a like quantity
from the next in seniority, and so on with the rest; so that even the
very oldest wines in the store are daily undergoing a mixing process.
It is thus perfectly idle, when a customer writes for a "ten-year old"
butt of sherry, to expect to receive a wine which was grown that number
of years previously. He will get a most excellent wine, however, which
will, probably, be prepared for him in the following
manner:--Three-fourths of the butt will consist of a three or four year
old wine, to which a few gallons of _Pajarete_, or _Amontillado_,[38]
will be added, to give the particular flavour or colour required; and
the remainder will be made up of various proportions of old wines, of
different vintages: a dash of brandy being added, to preserve it from
sea-sickness during the voyage.
To calculate the age of this mixture appears, at first sight, to involve
a laborious arithmetical operation. But it is very simply done, by
striking an average in the following manner:--The _fond_, we will
suppose, is a four-years' old wine, with which figure we must,
therefore, commence our calculations. To flavour and give age to this
foundation, the hundred and twenty years' old "_madre_" is made to
contribute a gallon, which, being about the hundreth part of the
proposed butt, diffuses a year's maturity into the composition. The
centiginarian stock-butt next furnishes a quantity, which in the same
way adds another year to its age. The next in seniority supplies a
proportion equivalent to a space of two years; and a fourth adds a
similar period to its existence. So that, without going further, we have
4+1+1+2+2=10, as clear as the sun at noon-day, or a demonstration in
Euclid.
This may appear very like "_bishoping_," or putting marks in a horse's
mouth to conceal his real age. But the intention, _in the case of the
wine_, is by no means fraudulent, but simply to distribute more equally
the good things of this life, by furnishing the public with an excellent
composition, which is within the reach of many; for, if this were not
done, the consequence would be, that the Xeres merchant would have a
small quantity of wine in his stores, which, from its extreme age, would
be so valuable, that few persons would be found to purchase it, and a
large stock of inferior wines, which would be driven out of the market
by the produce of other countries.
The quality of the wine depends, therefore, upon the quantity and age of
the various _madre_ butts from which it has been flavoured; and the
taste is varied from dry to sweet, and the colour from pale to brown, by
the greater or less admixture of _Pajarete_, _Amontillado_, and _boiled_
sherry. I do not think that the custom of adding boiled wine obtains
generally, for it is a very expensive method of giving age. It is,
however, a very effectual mode, and one that is considered equivalent to
a voyage across the Atlantic, at the very least.
I have heard of an extensive manufacturer (not of wine) in our own
country, who had rather improved on this plan of giving premature old
age to his wines. He called one of the steam-engines of his factory
_Bencoolen_, and another _Mobile_; and, slinging his butts of Sherry and
Madeira to the great levers of the machinery, gave them the benefit of a
ship's motion, as well as a tropical temperature, without their quitting
his premises; and, after a certain number of weeks' oscillation, he
passed them off as "East and West India _particular_."
The sweet wines of Xeres are, perhaps, the finest in the world. That
known as _Pajarete_ is the most abundantly made, but the _Pedro Ximenes_
is of superior flavour. There is also a sweet wine flavoured with
cherries, which is very delicious.
The light dry Sherries are also very pleasant in their pure state, but
they require to be mixed with brandy and other wines, to keep long, or
to ship for the foreign market. Those, therefore, who purchase _cheap
Sherry_ in England may be assured that it has become a _light_ wine
since its departure from Spain.
The number of _winehouses_ at Xeres is quite extraordinary. Of these, as
many, I think, as five-and-twenty export almost exclusively to England.
The merchants are extremely hospitable; they live in very good style,
and are particularly choice of the wines that appear at their tables.
The Spanish antiquaries have by no means settled to their satisfaction
what Roman city stood on the site of modern Xeres. The common opinion
seems to be, that it occupies the place of _Asta Regia_, mentioned by
Pliny as one of the towns within the marshes of the Guadalquivír.
Florez, however, labours to prove that it agrees better with _Asido_.
But I do not think his arguments get over the difficulty arising from
the expression "_in mediterraneo_," applied to that city; which agrees
better with _Medina Sidonia_ than Xeres, the latter being close upon the
flats of the Guadalquivír, whereas the other is decidedly _inland_ with
reference to them.
The medals of Asido, Florez describes as having sometimes a bull, and at
others a "fish of the _tunny_ kind," upon them. Now this latter emblem
is, most certainly, more applicable to Medina Sidonia than Xeres, since
no fish of the "tunny kind" ever could have frequented the shallow muddy
stream of the Guadalete. And though the city of Medina Sidonia is
situated on the summit of a high hill, sixteen miles from the sea, yet
we may take it for granted that its jurisdiction extended as far as the
coast, to the eastward of the Isla de Leon; since it does not appear
that any town of note intervened between Cadiz and Besaro, or Besippone.
The same author derives the name Xeres from the Persian _Zeiraz_
(Schiras); supposing it may have been so called from that having been
the country of the Moslem chief who captured Regia.
The word assimilates with our mode of pronouncing the name of the
existing town; and the wine of Schiraz was not less esteemed of old
amongst the easterns, than Sherry is now by us, and appears ever to have
been by the ancients; for tradition ascribes to Bacchus the foundation
of Nebrissa, in the vicinity of Xeres. May not, therefore, the celebrity
of its vineyards have led the Arabs to call the town Schiraz, or Xeres,
rather than the country of the chief who conquered it?
Xeres was captured from the Moors by San Fernando, and, becoming
thenceforth one of the bulwarks of the Christian frontier, changed its
name from _Xeres Sidonia_ to _Xeres de la Frontera_, by which it
continues to be distinguished from others.
The Guadalete does not approach within a mile and a half of Xeres. This
river is the Chryssus of the Romans; and the Spaniards, ever prone to
boast of the ancient celebrity of their country, maintain it to be the
mythological Lethe of yet more remote times. On its right bank (about
three miles on the road to Medina Sidonia) stands a Carthusian convent
of some note. The pious founders of this edifice--as indeed was their
wont--located themselves in a most enviable situation. The "_elisios
xerexanos prados_" were spread out before them, covered with fat beeves,
and herds of high caste horses, belonging to the order. The perfume of
the surrounding orange-groves penetrated to the innermost recesses of
this house of prayer and penance. The juice of the luscious grape, and
the oil of the purple olives that grew upon the sunny bank whereon it
stands, found their way, with as little obstruction, into its cells and
cellars. But still, with this Canaan in their possession, these austere
disciples of St. Bruno affected to despise the things of this world, and
held not communion with their fellow-creatures!
The edifice is fast falling to decay; the brotherhood is reduced to a
score of decrepit old men; and--what alone is to be regretted--the
celebrated breed of horses has become extinct.
The Guadalete winds through the valley overlooked by the _Cartuja_,[39]
and is crossed by a stone bridge of five arches. On gaining the southern
bank of the river, roads branch off in all directions. That to the
left--keeping up the valley--proceeds to Paterna (sixteen miles from
Xeres), and _Alcalà de los Gazules_ (twenty-five miles). Another,
continuing straight on, goes to Medina Sidonia (eighteen miles); and a
third, that presents itself to the right, is directed across the country
to Chiclana, reducing the distance to that place from twenty-six miles
(by the post-road) to sixteen.
About four miles below the bridge are some store-houses, a wharf, and
ferry, called _El Portal_, from whence the river is navigable to Port
St. Mary's. _El Portal_ may be considered the port of Xeres, to which
place (distant about three miles) there is a good wheel-road.
The fatal battle which gave Spain up to the dominion of the Saracens
(A.D. 714) was fought on the southern bank of the Guadalete, about five
miles from Xeres, on the road to Paterna. The robes and "horned helmet"
of Roderick, which he is supposed to have thrown off to facilitate his
escape, were found on the bank of the river, where a small chapel,
dedicated to Our Lady of _Leyna_, now stands. The sanguinary fight is
stated--with the customary Spanish exaggeration--to have lasted eight
days! and then only to have been decided in favour of the Mohammedans by
treason.
But however much we may admire the valour displayed by the Gothic
monarch, in thus obstinately defending his crown, yet the rashness he
was guilty of, in drawing up his forces on such a field (in a country
abounding in strong positions, where the enemy's superiority of numbers
would not have availed them), proves him to have been as little fitted
to command an army as to govern a kingdom.
CHAPTER IV.
CHOICE OF ROADS TO SEVILLE--BY LEBRIJA--MIRAGE--THE MARISMA--POST
ROAD--CROSS ROAD BY LAS CABEZAS AND LOS PALACIOS--DIFFICULTY OF
RECONCILING ANY OF THESE ROUTES WITH THAT OF THE ROMAN
ITINERARY--SEVILLE--GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF THE CITY--THE
ALAMEDA--DISPLAY OF CARRIAGES--ELEVATION OF THE HOST--PUBLIC
BUILDINGS--THE CATHEDRAL--LONJA--AMERICAN ARCHIVES--ALCAZAR--CASA
PILATA--ROYAL SNUFF MANUFACTORY--CANNON FOUNDRY--CAPUCHIN
CONVENT--MURILLO--THEATRE OF SEVILLE--OBSERVATIONS ON THE STATE OF
THE NATIONAL DRAMA--MORATIN--THE BOLERO--SPANISH DANCING--THE
SPANIARDS NOT A MUSICAL PEOPLE.
The traveller who journeys on horseback has the choice of several roads
between Xeres and Seville. The shortest is by the marshes of the
Guadalquivír, visiting only one town, Lebrija, in the whole distance of
eleven leagues. The longest is the post route, or _arrecife_, which
makes a very wide circuit by Utrera and Alcalá de Guadaira, to avoid the
swampy country bordering the river. From this latter road several others
diverge to the left, cutting off various segments of the arc it
describes; and in summer these routes are even better than the highway
itself, though heavy and much intersected by torrents in winter.
On the first-named or shortest road, the town of Lebrija alone calls for
observation. It is about fifteen miles from Xeres, and stands on the
side of a slightly-marked mound, that stretches some little way into the
wide-spreading plain of the Guadalquivír. The knoll is covered with the
extensive ruins of a castle--a joint work of Romans and Moors--which
during the late war was put into a defensible state by the French. Most
writers agree in placing here the Roman city of Nebrissa;[40] in which
name that of the modern town may readily be distinguished. It is distant
about five miles from the Guadalquivír, and contains three convents, and
a population of 4,000 souls. The Posada is excellent.
The country from Xeres to Lebrija presents an undulated surface, which
is clothed with vines and olives; but thenceforth the banks of the
"_olivifero Boetis_" are devoted entirely to pasture, and the road is
most uninterestingly flat: so flat, indeed, that there is scarcely a
rise in the whole twenty-eight miles from Lebrija to Seville. It is not
passable in winter, and but one wretched hovel, called the _Venta del
Peleon_, offers itself as a resting-place. The river winds occasionally
close up to the side of the road, and from time to time a barge or
passage boat, gliding along its smooth surface, breaks the wearisome
monotony of the scene; but in general the tortuous stream wanders to a
distance of several miles from the road, and is altogether lost to the
sight in an apparently interminable plain, that stretches to the
westward.
The misty vapour, or _mirage_, which rises from and hangs over the low
land bordering the river, produces singular deceptions; at times giving
the whole face of the country in advance the semblance of a vast lake;
at others, magnifying distant objects in a most extraordinary manner. On
one occasion, we were surprised to see what had every appearance of
being a large town rise up suddenly before us; and it was only when
arrived within a few hundred yards of the objects we had taken for
churches and houses, that we became convinced they were but a drove of
oxen. These imaginary oxen proved in the end, however, to be only a
flock of sheep. The _Marisma_,[41] for such is the name given to this
low ground, affords pasturage for immense herds of cattle of all sorts,
and the herbage is so fine as to lead one to wonder what becomes of all
the _fat_ beef and mutton in Spain.
The post road from Xeres to Seville, as I have already mentioned, is
very circuitous, increasing the distance from forty-three to fifty-six
miles--reckoned fifteen and a half post leagues.
For the first thirteen miles, that is, to the post house of _La Casa
real del Cuervo_, the road traverses a country rich in corn and olives,
but skirting for some considerable distance the western limits of a vast
heath, called the _llanura de Caulina_, whereon even goats have
difficulty in finding sustenance. The first league of the road is
perfectly level, the rest hilly. A little beyond the post house of El
Cuervo, a road strikes off to the left to Lebrija. The _arrecife_,
proceeding on towards Utrera, crosses numerous gulleys by which the
winter torrents are led down from the side of the huge _Sierra
Gibalbin_, which, here raising its head on the right, stretches to the
north for a mile or two, keeping parallel to the road, and then again
sinks to the plain. This passed, the remainder of the road to Utrera is
conducted along what may be termed the brow of a wide tract of low table
land, which, extending to the foot of the distant _Serranía de Ronda_ on
the right, breaks in the opposite direction into innumerable
ramifications, towards the plain of the Guadalquivír.
In the entire distance to Utrera, (twenty-four miles from _El Cuervo_)
there is not a single village on the road, and but very few farms or
even cottages scattered along it. It is plentifully furnished with
bridges for crossing the various _barrancas_[42] that drain the mountain
ravines in the winter, and by means of these bridges the chaussée is
kept nearly on a dead level throughout. About midway there is another
post house. This road is so perfectly uninteresting, that, availing
myself of the earliest opportunity of quitting it and proceeding to
Seville by a more direct, if not a more diversified route, I will strike
into a well-beaten track that presents itself, edging away to the left,
about three miles beyond _El Cuervo_, and is directed on Las Cabezas de
San Juan, distant about six miles from the post road.
Las Cabezas de San Juan is a wretched little village, which inscriptions
found in its vicinity have decided to be the _Ugia_[43] of the Romans.
It is situated on a knoll, commanding an extensive view over the
circumjacent flat country, and some years since contained a population
of a thousand or twelve hundred souls. But, having been the hotbed
wherein Riego's conspiracy was brought to unnatural maturity, it was
razed to the ground during the short contest that restored Ferdinand to
a despotic throne, and "all its pleasant things laid waste."
From hence to _Los Palacios_ is ten miles. The country is flat, and but
partially cultivated. A short league before reaching _Los Palacios_, a
long ruined bridge, called _El Alcantarilla_, is seen at a little
distance off the road on the right. In the time of Swinburne, this
bridge appears to have been passable, and an inscription was then
sufficiently perfect to announce its Roman origin. It was probably
raised to carry a road from Lebrija to Utrera across a marshy tract,
which in winter is apt to be flooded by the _Salado de Moron_; or
perhaps the road over it may have been directed on _Dos Hermanos_, which
is known to be the Roman town of Orippo.
Los Palacios is a clean compact village, of about 1,000 inhabitants. A
plain extends for many miles on all sides of it, but a slight, perhaps
artificial, mound rises slightly above the general level of the place on
its eastern side, and bears the weight of its ruined castle: the walls
of the village itself are also fast crumbling to the dust. The inns are
miserable; but a Spanish nobleman, with whom we had become acquainted at
Xeres, had obligingly furnished us with a letter of introduction to a
gentleman of the place, who entertained us most hospitably, and very
reluctantly--for he wished much to detain us--gave orders to the _dueña_
of his household to have the usual breakfast of chocolate and bread
fried in lard prepared for us by daybreak on the following morning.
From Los Palacios to Seville the distance is reckoned five "_leguas
regulares_," but it is barely fifteen miles. The country to the north of
the village is very fruitful, and becomes hilly as one proceeds. At
about nine miles there is a solitary venta, on the margin of a stream
that comes down from _Dos Hermanos_; which village is situated about a
league off on the right.
It is a matter of some little difficulty to make any of the roads
between Cadiz and Seville (that is, from Port St. Mary's onwards) agree
with the route laid down in the Itinerary of Antoninus. The distance of
the _Portus Gaditanus_ from _Hispalis_ is therein stated to be
seventy-six Roman miles,[44] or, according to Florez, sixty-eight;[45]
which miles, if computed to contain eight _Olympic_ stadia each, are
equal to seventy, and sixty-three British statute miles respectively;
the actual distance from Puerto Santa Maria to Seville being, by the
chaussée, sixty-six miles; by Lebrija and the marshes, fifty-two.
On comparing these distances, therefore, one would naturally be led to
suppose that the Roman military way followed the circuitous line of the
existent chaussée, but that monuments and inscriptions, which have been
found at Las Cabezas de St. Juan and Dos Hermanos, prove those places
to be the towns of _Ugia_ and _Orippo_, mentioned in the Itinerary as
lying upon the road. We are under the necessity, therefore, of adopting
a line which reduces the distance from the _Portus Gaditanus_ to
_Hispalis_ far below even that given by Florez.
The only way of meeting all these difficulties and premises seems to be
by taking a smaller stadium than the _Olympic_. That of 666-2/3 to a
degree of the meridian[46] I have generally found to agree well with the
actual distances of places in Spain, and it is a scale which we are
warranted in adopting, since it is sometimes used by Strabo on the
authority of Eratosthenes, and Pliny admits that no two persons ever
agreed in the Roman measures.
Taking this scale, therefore (though a yet smaller would agree better),
I fix the first station, _Hasta_, at a small table hill, even now called
by the Spaniards _La Mesa de Asta_, lying N.N.W. of Xeres;[47] making
the distance from the _Portus Gaditanus_ sixteen miles, as in the
Itinerary, instead of eight, as altered by Florez: a number, by the
way, which scarcely agrees better with the actual distance from Port St.
Mary's to Xeres--at which latter place he fixes Hasta--than the sixteen
miles of the original.
The next place mentioned in the Itinerary is _Ugia_; determined, as has
been already stated, to have stood where Las Cabezas de San Juan is now
situated; and the distance from the _Mesa de Asta_ to this place,
passing through _Nebrissa_ (Lebrija--omitted in the Itinerary, as not
being a convenient halting-place for the troops), agrees tolerably well
with that specified, viz., twenty-seven Roman miles. The remaining
distances, viz., twenty-four miles to _Orippo_ (Dos Hermanos), and nine
to _Hispalis_ (Seville), agree yet better, though still somewhat below
the scale I have adopted.
The appearance of Seville, approaching it on the side of the _Marisma_,
is by no means imposing. Stretching as the city does along the bank of
the Guadalquivír, its least diameter meets the view; and, from its
standing on a perfect flat, the walls by which it is encircled conceal
the most part of the houses, and take off from the height of the hundred
spires of its churches--the lofty _Giralda_ being the only conspicuous
object that presents itself above them.
The wide avenue which, after crossing the river _Guadaira_, leads up to
the city gate, is, however, prepossessing; a spacious botanical garden
is on the left hand, and, in advance of the city walls, are the
Amphitheatre, the Royal Snuff Manufactory, and several other handsome
public buildings.
Seville is generally considered,--at all events by its inhabitants,--the
largest city of Spain. It is of an oval shape, two miles long, and one
and a quarter broad; and, washed by the Guadalquivír on the eastern
side, is enclosed on the others by a patched-up embattled wall, the work
of all ages and nations.
The city is tolerably free from suburbs, excepting at the Carmona and
_Rosario_ gates on its western side; but numerous extramural convents,
hospitals, barracks, and other public edifices, are scattered about in
different directions, which, with the town of Triana, on the opposite
bank of the river, materially increase the size of the place, and swell
the amount of its population to at least 100,000 souls.
Seville cannot be called a handsome city, for it contains but one
tolerable street; the houses, however, are lofty, and generally well
built, the shops good, and the lamps within sight of each other, which
is not usually the case in Spanish towns. Most of the houses in the
principal thoroughfares are built with an edging of flat roof
overlooking the street. This part of the house is called the _Azotea_,
and, with the lower orders, serves the manifold purposes of a dormitory
in summer, a place for washing and drying clothes in winter, and a
place of assignation at all seasons.
In hot weather awnings are spread from these _azoteas_ across the
streets, rendering them delightfully cool and shady; the canvass
covering, fanned by the breeze, sending down a refreshing air, whilst it
serves at the same time as a shelter from the sun. Even in the most
sultry days of summer, I have never found the streets of Seville
_impracticable_.
There are several spacious squares in various parts of the city; in the
largest, distinguished by the extraordinary, though, perhaps, not
_unsuitable_ name of _La Plaza de la Incarnacion_, the market is held.
This is abundantly supplied with bread, meat, fish, poultry, and all
sorts of vegetables and fruits, and is, perhaps, the cheapest in
Andalusia; it certainly is the cleanest.
The _Alamedas_, of which there are two, are equally as well taken care
of as the market, though in point of beauty they are not quite deserving
of the praise which has been bestowed upon them. One is in the interior
of the city, and becomes only a place of general resort when the weather
is unsettled. The other more commonly frequented walk is between the
walls of the town and the Guadalquivír, extending nearly a mile along
the bank of the river, from the _Torre del Oro_ to the bridge of boats
communicating with Triana. It is well sheltered with trees, and
furnished with seats, and is indeed a most delightful and amusing
promenade, being nightly crowded with all descriptions of people, from
the grandee of the first class to the goatskin clad swineherd, who
visits the city for a _sombrero_ of the _ultima moda_, or a fresh supply
of _bacallao_.
The carriage drive round the walk is generally thronged with equipages
of all sorts and ages, any one of which, shown as a _spectacle_ in
England, would most assuredly make the exhibitor's fortune. The _blazon_
on the pannels, and venerable cocked hats and laced coats of the drivers
and attendants, bespeak them, nevertheless, to belong to _sons of
somebody_; and the wives and daughters of somebody seated therein, seem
not a little proud of possessing these indubitable proofs of the
antiquity of their houses. Few of these distinguished personages,
however, excepting such as labour under the infliction of gout,
rheumatism, or the indelible marks of old age, are satisfied to remain
quiet spectators of the gay scene; but, after driving once or twice
round the _paseo_ to see _who_ has arrived, alight, and join the flutter
of their fans, and, with grief I say it, their loud laugh and
conversation to the already over-powering din of the "promiscuous
multitude."
This scene of gaiety is prolonged until long after the sun has ceased
to gild the mirror-like surface of the Guadalquivír. The walk, indeed,
is still in its most fashionable state of throng, when a tinkling bell,
announcing the elevation of the Host, marks the concluding ceremony of
the vesper service in a neighbouring church. At this signal the motley
crowd appears as if touched by the wand of an enchanter. Each devout
Romanist either reverentially bends the knee, or stands statue-like on
the spot where the homage-commanding sound first reached the ear. The
men take off their hats--the ladies drop their fans. The coachmen check
their hacks--the hacks hang down their heads--not a whisper is heard,
not an eye is raised. The bell sounds a second time, and animation
returns, the breast is marked with repeated crosses, the dust brushed
off the knees, "_conques_" innumerable take up the interrupted
conversation, and once more
"Soft eyes look love to eyes which speak again."
So ludicrously observant are the Spaniards of this ceremony, that, on
the ringing of the bell, I once remarked a water-carrier stop in the
midst of his sonorous cry, "_A...._" and devoutly uncovering his head,
and crossing himself, wait until the second tinkle permitted him again
to open his mouth; when, with most comical gravity, he finished the
wanting syllable "_gua!_ _Agua fres--ca!_"
The Guadalquivír is about 200 yards wide at Seville, where it forms a
kind of basin, and is navigable for vessels of 150 tons burthen. It is
so liable to be swollen by the freshes poured down from the mountains in
the upper part of its course, that a permanent bridge has never been
attempted; and the banks are so low, that the floods have frequently
reached to the very gates of the city. The influence of the tide is felt
some little distance above Seville, rendering the water of the river
unfit for general purposes. The water of the wells, on the other hand,
is considered unwholesome, so that the city is, in a great measure,
dependent for its supply of this most necessary article on an aqueduct,
that brings a stream from _Alcalà de Guadaira_, a distance of about nine
miles.
The populous town of Triana is still worse off than Seville, for, as the
expedient of a leather pipe has not yet been thought of, the "essential
fluid" has to be carried across the river on men's or asses' backs,
rendering it a most expensive article of consumption; a circumstance
that accounts, in a great measure, for the very Egyptian complexion of
the inhabitants.
The public buildings of Seville fully entitle the city to its boasted
title of the Western Capital of Spain. It contains no less than sixty
convents and nunneries, besides numerous other religious establishments
and hospitals. The Archiepiscopal Church is the largest in Spain,[48]
its dimensions being 450 feet by 260; and it is one of the most splendid
piles in the universe. The architecture of the exterior is heavy and
tasteless, so that one is but little prepared for the striking change
which meets the eye on drawing aside the ponderous leathern curtain that
closes the portal, and entering the vast vaulted interior.
It is built in the gothic style, not of a florid kind, however, but
simple, aërial, and imposing. The colour of the free stone used in its
construction is a subdued white; the pavement is laid in squares of
black and white marble, and the stained glass windows, which are of
extreme beauty, shed a warm, variegated glow throughout the building,
that produces an effect well suited to its character. Indeed, no
cathedral that I have any where seen either presents a more striking
coup d'oeil, or draws forth, in a greater degree, that instinctive
feeling of devotion implanted in the human breast. The walls, too, are
not so disfigured with tawdry chapels, as those of most Roman Catholic
churches, and the few paintings with which they are decorated are _chef
d'oeuvres_ of the best Spanish masters.
One modern painting has, however, been admitted to the collection,
rather, I should think, out of compliment to the ladies of Seville, than
on account of its own merit. It represents two maidens of this saintly
city, who, "_mucho tiempo hay_,"[49] to use our conductor's expression,
having been accused of some heretical practices, were exposed to be
devoured by a ferocious lion. The gallant sovereign of the woods and
forests, instead, however, of making a meal of these tempting morsels of
human flesh and imagined frailty, "_se echó à sus pies_," and began
caressing them after his feline fashion, to the great astonishment of
all beholders! This miraculous want of appetite on the part of the lion,
making the innocence of the damsels evident, led, of course, to their
liberation, and their names are now enrolled upon the long list of
saints of Seville.
The tower of the cathedral, commonly called _La Giralda_, from a
colossal statue of _Faith_, at its summit, which, with strange
inconsistency of character, wheels about at every change of wind, is by
no means a handsome structure. It was built by the Moors, about 250
years before the city was captured by San Fernando, and originally was
only 280 feet in height; but a belfry has since been added, which makes
it altogether 364 feet high. The tower is fifty feet square, and the
ascent is effected by an inclined plane, by means of which, some queen
of Spain is rumoured to have ridden on horseback to the gallery under
the belfry.
The view from the summit of the tower fully repays one, even for the
labour of ascending it on foot, and I am not quite sure but that the
inclined plane rather increases than lessens the fatigue of mounting.
From hence alone can a correct idea be formed of the size and splendour
of Seville. The eye, from this elevation, embraces the whole extent of
the city, its long narrow streets, wide circuit of walls, its gateways,
magnificent public buildings, and spacious plazas, its verdant
orangeries, and its house-top flower-gardens. Beyond the busy city, a
fruitful plain extends for several miles in every direction; on one side
bearing luxuriant crops of corn and olives, on the other, giving pasture
to countless herds of cattle; the lovely Guadalquivír winding through
and fertilizing the whole.
The Archiepiscopal palace occupies one side of a small square, that is
immediately under the _Giralda_; the façade of this building is
handsome, but we had not an opportunity of seeing the interior, as its
worthy occupier was unwell. Near the cathedral, but on the opposite side
to the Archbishop's residence, is the _Lonja_; a splendid edifice, which
(as the name implies) was originally built for an exchange. But, though
the lower suites of apartments are still set apart for the use of the
merchants, the building is so inconveniently situated, that no
commercial business is transacted there, and the whole of the upper
story has been fitted up as a repository for the "American archives."
These records are most voluminous, and are preserved with as much care,
and ticketed with as great regularity, as if Spain shortly intended to
resume the sovereignty over her former vast transatlantic possessions.
As a mark of especial favour, the tip of my little finger was permitted
to rest upon the edge of the first letter written from the _other
world_; the keeper of the archives requesting me, at the same time, not
to press too hard upon the valuable MS., and assuring us, that most
persons were obliged to be satisfied with looking at the precious
document bearing the signature of the adventurous Columbus, in its glass
case.
The whole of the shelves, drawers, &c., are of cedar; a wood which has
the property of preserving the papers committed to their charge from all
descriptions of insects. The floors are laid in chequers of red and blue
marble, and the grand staircase is composed of the same, which is highly
polished and remarkably handsome. One of the apartments of the vast
quadrangle contains two original paintings of Columbus and Hernan
Cortes.
A little removed from the _Lonja_, is the _Alcazar_, or Royal Palace.
This is kept up in a kind of half-dress state, and has a governor
appointed to its peculiar charge, who usually resides within its
precincts. It is built in the Moorish style, and is generally supposed
to have been the work of Moorish hands, though raised only--so at least
a Gothic inscription on its walls is said to state--by "the puissant
King of Castile and Leon, Don Pedro."
There is probably some little exaggeration in this, and, in point of
fact, perhaps, the mighty monarch only repaired and added to the palace
of the Moorish kings, which the neglect of a hundred years had, in his
time, rendered uninhabitable. It is a very inferior piece of workmanship
to the Alhambra, but, nevertheless, contains much to admire,
particularly the ceilings of the apartments (of which there are upwards
of seventy), and the walls of one of the courts.
The different towers command very fine views over the city and adjacent
country, and the gardens are delightful, though of but small extent. The
walks are laid with tiles, between which little tubes are introduced
vertically, that communicate with waterpipes underneath, and, by merely
turning a screw, the whole of the valves of these tubes are
simultaneously opened, and each shoots forth a diminutive stream of
water. This plan was adopted, as being an improvement on the tedious
method usually practised in watering gardens. It affords the facetiously
disposed a glorious opportunity of inflicting a practical joke upon
unwary visiters to the Alcazar; who, conducted to the garden, and then
and there seduced, out of mere politeness, to join in the complaint
expressed of a want of rain, suddenly find themselves _over_ a heavy
shower, and under the necessity of laughing at a piece of wit from which
there is no possibility of escape.
The _Casa Pilata_ is another of the sights of Seville. It is a private
house, said to be built on the exact model of that of the Roman governor
of Jerusalem. It is fitted up with much taste, but its chief beauty
consists in a profusion of glazed tiles, which give it actual coolness,
as well as a refreshing look.
Most of the other subjects worthy of the traveller's notice are situated
without the walls of the city. The first in order, issuing from the
Xeres gate, is the _Plaza de los Toros_, or amphitheatre, an immense
circus, one half built of stone, and the other half of wood, and capable
of accommodating 14,000 persons. The next remarkable object is the
_Royal Tobacco Manufactory_, (the term seems rather absurd to English
ears,) a huge edifice, so strongly built, and jealously defended by
walls and ditches, as to appear rather a detached fort, or citadel,
raised to overawe the turbulent city, than an establishment for
peacefully grinding tobacco leaves into snuff, and rolling them into
cigars. The manufactory employs 5000 persons, and of this number 2600
are occupied solely in making cigars. But, as I have elsewhere shown,
even with the assistance of the Royal Manufactory lately established at
Malaga, the supply of _lawful_ cigars is not equal to one-tenth part of
the consumption of the country.
The demand for snuff may probably be fully met by the Royal Manufactory;
for the Spaniards are not great consumers of tobacco through the medium
of the nose; and most of the snuffs prepared at Seville are extremely
pungent, so that "a little goes a great way." There is a coarse kind,
however, called, I think, "Spanish bran," which is much esteemed by
_connoisseurs_.
The Royal Cannon Foundry is in the vicinity of the Tobacco Manufactory,
and though this establishment for furnishing the means of consuming
powder is not in such activity as its neighbour employed in supplying
food for smoke, yet it is in equally good order, and, on the whole, is a
very creditable national establishment. The brass pieces made here are
remarkably handsome, and very correctly bored, but they want the
lightness and finish of our guns--qualities in which English artillery
excels all others. Two of the "monster mortars," cast by the French for
the siege of Cadiz, are still preserved here.
The Cavalry Barracks, Royal Saltpetre Manufactory, Military Hospital,
and various other edifices, planned on a scale proportioned to Spain's
_former_ greatness, together with numerous convents, equally
disproportioned to her present wants, follow in rapid succession in
completing the circuit of the walls. The most interesting amongst the
religious houses is a convent of Capuchins, situated near the Cordoba
gate. It contains twenty-five splendid paintings by Murillo, "any one of
which," as a modern writer has justly remarked, "would suffice to render
a man immortal."
Murillo was certainly a perfect master of his art. His style is
peculiar, and in his early productions there is a coldness and formality
that partake of the school of Velasquez; but the works of his maturer
age are distinguished by a boldness of outline, a gracefulness of
grouping, and a depth and softness of colouring, which entitle him to
rank with Rubens and Correggio.
The paintings of Murillo, though met with in all the best collections of
Europe, where they take their place amongst the works of the first
masters, are, nevertheless, valued by foreigners rather on account of
their rarity than of their execution. The fact is, those of his
paintings which have left Spain are nearly all devoted to the same
subject--the Madonna and Child; and, even in that, offer but little
variety either in the disposition, or in the colouring of the figures.
The Spanish artist is, consequently, accused of want of genius and
self-plagiarism. Nor does Murillo receive due credit for the pains he
took in finishing his paintings; for, amongst those of his works which
have found their way into foreign collections, there are few which have
not received more or less damage, either in the transport from Spain, or
by subsequent neglect; and, in many instances, the attempts made to
restore them by cleaning or retouching have inflicted a yet more severe
injury upon them.
Those persons only, therefore, who have visited Spain, and, above all,
Murillo's native city--Seville--can fully appreciate the merits of that
wonderful artist. The vast number of master-pieces which he has there
left behind him, and the variety of subjects they embrace, sufficiently
prove, however, that, whilst in versatility of talent he has been
equalled by few, in point of _industry_ he almost stands without a
rival.
Besides the twenty-five paintings in the Capuchin convent, already
noticed, the _Hóspital de la Caridad_ contains several of Murillo's
master-pieces; two, in particular, are deserving of notice--the subjects
are, the miracle of the loaves and fishes, and Moses striking the rock.
The great size of these two paintings saved them from a journey to
Paris, but the French, in their zeal for the encouragement of the fine
arts, stripped the chapel of all the other works of Murillo that
enriched it--only a few of which were restored at the peace of 1815.
Other paintings of the Spanish Rafael are to be found in the various
churches of Seville, and every private collector (of whom the city
contains many,) prides himself on being the possessor of at least one
_original_ of his illustrious fellow-citizen.
The theatre of Seville has ever held a comparatively distinguished place
in the dramatic annals of Spain; and, lamentable as is the condition to
which the national stage has been reduced, the capital of Andalusia may
still be considered as one of the most _playgoing_ places in the
kingdom. This may, perhaps, partly be accounted for by the number of
dramatic authors to whom the city has given birth, partly by the
peculiar disposition of the inhabitants of the province, who are deeper
tinged with romance, and have more imagination than the rest of the
natives of the Peninsula.
The deplorable atrophy under which the drama has of late years been
languishing in every part of Europe[50] had, aided by various
predisposing circumstances, long been undermining the at no-time very
robust constitution of the Spanish theatre; which, like a condemned
criminal, existed only from day to day, at the will and pleasure of a
despotic sovereign; and had, moreover, constantly to combat the
hostility of the priesthood: a bigoted race, prone at all times to
discourage an art, which, by enlarging the understandings of the
community, tended to diminish the respect with which their own profane
melo-dramatic mysteries were regarded. The priests, in fact, have always
been, and ever will be, averse to their flock being fleeced by any other
shears than their own.
Considering, therefore, the obstacles which the Spanish theatre has had
to contend against, obstacles which were yet more formidable in that
country in times past than they are at the present day, it cannot but be
admitted that the drama was cultivated in Spain with a degree of success
which could little have been expected.
Our own early dramatists, indeed, drew largely from the prolific sources
opened by Lope de Vega, Calderon, and other Spanish writers of the
sixteenth century; and, perhaps, to the example set by those authors is
our stage indebted for its release from the thraldom in which others
are yet held, by a preposterous, though _classic_, adherence to the
preservation of the unities.
The drama (in the strict sense of the term) never, however, became a
popular amusement with the Spaniards generally. The legal disabilities
imposed upon the performers by the intrigues of the Romish church
brought the profession of an actor into disrepute, and, as a natural
consequence, checked the progress of the histrionic art. The stage had
no door opening to preferment, and the knight of the buskin (to whom, by
the way, the _Don_ was interdicted), though endowed with the talents of
a Talma or a Kemble, of a Liston or a Potier, ranked below the lowest of
the train of bullfighters, and could never expect to amass a fortune, or
hope to be considered otherwise than as a "diverting vagabond." A
Spanish actress was yet more discouragingly circumstanced, as, however
irreproachable her character, she held only the same grade in society as
the frail Ciprian whose beauty gained her livelihood.
Labouring under such disadvantages, it is not surprising, therefore,
that Thalia and Euterpe should eventually have been driven from the
Spanish stage, and a licentious monster--the illegitimate offspring of
Comus and Impudicitia--have been crowned with the palm-wreath snatched
from the brows of the immortal Parnassides.
The modern Spanish dramatic authors--if it be not profanation so to call
them--pandering to the vitiated taste of the day, indulge in all the
licence of Aristophanes, without varnishing their obscenities with the
brilliancy of his wit. They write, in fact, for auditors, who, whilst
endowed with a quick perception of the ridiculous, are too ignorant to
discriminate between right and wrong, and cannot perceive where
legitimate satire ends, and libertinism commences; who, possessing a
vast stock of native wit, inherit with it a coarse, degenerate taste.
The human frailties of the monastic orders are, consequently, the
favourite subjects now held up to ridicule on the stage, as if to prove
the truth of Voltaire's lines,
_"Les prêtres ne sont point ce qu'un vain peuple pense,
_Notre credulité fait toute leur science_;"_
and no modern _saynete_[51] is considered perfect, unless some member of
their church is brought forward to serve as a recipient for the ribald
jokes of an Andalusian _majo_, or to become the amatory dupe of an
intriguing _graciosa_.
These pieces are not suffered to appear in print; or rather, I should
say, perhaps, would not _sell_ if they were printed, for the press of
the day has far exceeded the bounds of decorum in giving light to many
of the somewhat less objectionable productions of _Sotomayor_,
_Comella_, and other prolific scribblers of Vaudevilles. The only modern
dramatic writers who have been at all successful in obtaining public
favour on worthier grounds, are _Iriate_, _Martinez de la Rosa_, and
_Moratin_, but their writings are by no means numerous.
The plays of the last-named (who is considered the Terence of Spain) are
always well received at Seville, where the dramatic taste is somewhat
more refined than in the minor provincial towns. They are full of
incident, without being encumbered with plot, like those of the old
Spanish school; and the dialogue is natural and sprightly, without
falling into licentiousness or vulgarity. This author's translation of
Shakspeare's Hamlet is lamentably weak, however, for his language is not
sufficiently elevated for tragedy. To Molière he has done more justice.
The Spanish language is remarkably well adapted to the stage, being not
less melodious than emphatic and dignified; and there is a raciness
about it well suited to comedy, though, on the whole, I should say, it
is better adapted for tragedy. The national taste is, however, in favour
of comedy, which, besides being more congenial to the character of the
people, speaks more intelligibly to their uncultivated understandings.
And, indeed, it must be confessed, that but for the infinite superiority
of the language, the long speeches of the heroes of Spanish tragedy
would be yet more wearying to listen to, than even the jingling, rhymed
declamations of the French drama.
It is not surprising, therefore, that the impatient _Andaluzes_,--whose
whole thoughts are bent upon the coming Bolero and laughter-causing
farce,--should complain of the interminable "_platicas importunas_" of
their tragedies, and even of their _serious_ comedies; especially since
they are delivered in a diction which to the lower orders is almost
unintelligible, the dialogue being generally carried on in the second
person plural, _vos_: a style which is never now heard in common
parlance, and is, therefore, quite unnatural to them.
I will, however, draw the curtain upon Spanish tragedy, and bring the
graceful _Baylarinas_ upon the stage; at the first click of whose
castañets, whilst even yet behind the scenes, every bright eye sparkles
with animation, and every tongue is silenced.
The Bolero, which is the favourite national dance, admits of great
variety as well of figures as of movements, for it may be executed by
any number of persons, though two or four are generally preferred. It is
a purified kind of _Fandango_, and, when danced by Spaniards, is as
graceful and pleasing an exhibition as can be imagined. It is altogether
divested of those dervish-like gyrations, and other wonderful displays
of limbs and under-petticoats, that are so much the vogue on the boards
of London and Paris, and on which, in fact, the reputation of a
_Ballerina_ seems to depend. In Spain the taste in dancing has not yet
reached this pitch of refinement; for, even in the _Cachucha_, when the
dancer turns her back upon the spectators, a Spanish lady deems it
necessary to turn her face from the stage.
The castañets, though furnishing but little to the entertainment in the
way of music, afford the performers the means of displaying their
figures to advantage; and are yet further useful, by giving employment
to the hands and arms; which, with most dancers, public as well as
private, are generally found to be very much in the way.
There are other dances of a less _modest_ character than the _Bolero_,
which are performed at the minor theatres; but it may be said of Spanish
public dancing generally, that it is light, spirited, and _poetic_, and
admits of the display of considerable grace without being _indecent_.
Although of all modern languages--that of dulcet Italy alone
excepted--the Spanish is the best adapted to song, yet the Spaniards
have little or no relish for musical entertainments. The truth is, they
are not a musical nation. In expressing this opinion, I am aware that I
declare war against a host of preconceived notions; but in proof of my
assertion I will ask, what country possesses so little national music as
Spain? Has a single _known_ opera ever been produced there? Is not her
church music all borrowed? Is not the trifling guitar the only
instrument the Spaniard is really master of? Is not the _Sostenuto_
bellow of the _arriero_ almost the only approach to melody that the
peasant ever attempts?
Spanish music consists of a few simple airs, which are probably
heir-looms of the Saracens; and a medley of _Boleros_, that may be
considered mere variations of one tune. Neither their vocal nor
instrumental performances ever reach beyond mediocrity, and in concert
they invariably sing and play _a faire casser la tête_.
A fine climate and a gregarious disposition lead the peasantry to
assemble nightly, and amuse themselves by dancing and singing to the
monotonous thrumming of a cracked guitar; and this habit has earned for
the nation the character of being musical--a character to which the
Spaniards are little better entitled than the _Tom Tom_-loving black
_apprentices_ of our West India islands.
There are exceptions to every rule, and I willingly admit that I have
heard an opera of Rossini very well performed by Spanish "_artists_."
But that they do not _pride themselves_ on being a musical nation is
evident from their always preferring Italian music to their own, though
they like to sing Spanish words to an Italian opera.
The Theatre is a place of fashionable resort at Seville. It fills up a
vacuum between the Paseo and the Tertulia. And when the times are
sufficiently quiet to warrant the outlay, a sufficient sum is subscribed
to bribe a second-rate Italian company to expose their melodious throats
to the baneful influence of the sea breezes. The house is large and
rather tastily decorated, but so ill-shaped that, unless one is close to
the stage, not a word can be heard; and if there, the prompter's voice
completely drowns those of the performers. The fall of the curtain at
the conclusion of the _Bolero_ is generally the signal for the _beau
monde_ to retire, leaving the highly seasoned _Saynete_ to the enjoyment
of the "_gente baja y desreglada_."[52]
This breaking up is not the least amusing part of the play. The
antediluvian carriages are again put in requisition; and now, besides
the cocked-hatted attendants, each vehicle is accompanied by two or more
torch-bearers on foot; so that the blaze of light on first issuing from
the Theatre is most dazzling and astounding,--astounding, because it is
only on walking into the gutter, or over a heap of filth in the first
cross street one has occasion to enter, that the want of lamps in these
minor avenues renders the utility of this extraordinary illumination
apparent.
Each carriage, after "taking up," moves majestically off, its
torch-bearers running ahead to show the way, scattering long strings of
sparks, like comets' tails, amongst the humble pedestrians.
The Tertulias commence after the families have supped at their
respective houses, that is to say, at about eleven o'clock; and are
generally kept up until a late hour.
CHAPTER V.
SOCIETY OF SEVILLE--SPANISH WOMEN--FAULTS OF EDUCATION--EVILS OF
EARLY MARRIAGES, AND MARRIAGES DE CONVENANCE--ENVIRONS OF
SEVILLE--TRIANA--SAN JUAN DE ALFARACHE--SANTI PONCE--RUINS OF
ITALICA--ITALICA NOT SO ANCIENT A CITY AS HISPALIS--YOUNG PIGS AND
THE MUSES--DEPARTURE FROM SEVILLE--THE MARQUES DE LAS
AMARILLAS--WEAKNESS, DECEIT, AND INJUSTICE OF THE LATE KING OF
SPAIN--ALCALA DE GUADAIRA--UTRERA--OBSERVATIONS ON THE STRATEGICAL
IMPORTANCE OF THIS TOWN--MORON--MILITARY OPERATIONS OF
RIEGO--APATHY OF THE SERRANOS DURING THE CIVIL WAR--OLBERA--REMARKS
ON THE ITINERARY OF ANTONINUS.
The society of Seville is divided into nearly as many circles as there
are degrees in the Mohammedans paradise. In former days, the bounds of
each were marked with _heraldic_ precision, and those of the innermost
were guarded as jealously from trespass as the precincts of a royal
forest, but of late years politics have materially injured the fences.
The fine edged bridge of _Sirat_ is no longer difficult of passage, and
a foreigner, in especial, provided some mufti of the Aristocracy but
holds out his hand to him, may reach the seventh heaven without the
slightest chance of stumbling over his pedigree.
The English, above all other foreigners, are favourably received at
Seville, for the nobles of the South of Spain, not being so much under
court influence as those of the provinces lying nearer the capital, are
by no means distinguished for their love of _absolutism_. With some few,
indeed, the want of courtly sunshine has engendered excessive
liberalism; but the nobles of Andalusia generally may be considered as
favourably disposed towards a limited monarchy--that is, are of
moderate, or what they term _English_, politics.
Of persons of such a political bias is the first circle of the society
of Seville composed, and it is, perhaps, in every respect, the best in
the kingdom. It is adorned by many men of highly cultivated talents, and
much theoretical information, who, with a sincere love of country at
their hearts, are yet not arrogantly blind to the faults of its former
and present institutions; and who, removed to a certain extent from the
baneful influence of a corrupt court, are proportionably free from the
demoralising vices which distinguish the society of the upper classes in
the capital.
The ladies of the _exclusive_ circle are, it must needs be confessed,
deficient in education: but they possess great natural abilities, a
wonderful flow of language, and--excepting that they will pitch their
voices so high--peculiarly fascinating manners.
The morals of Spanish women have usually been commented upon with
unsparing severity; it strikes me, however, that the moral _principle_
is as strong in them as in the natives of any other country or climate.
The constancy of Spanish women, when once their affections have been
placed on any object, is, indeed, proverbial, and if they are but too
frequently faithless to the marriage vow, the source of corruption may
be traced, _first_, to the lamentable religious education they
receive--since the demoralizing doctrines of the efficacy of penance and
absolution in the remission of sins furnish them at all times with a
ready palliative; and, _secondly_, to the habit of contracting early
marriages, and, especially, _marriages de convenance_, by which, in
their anxiety to see their daughters well established, parents--and
above all Spanish parents--are apt to sacrifice, not only their
children's happiness, but their honour.
Of all the evils under which Spanish society labours, this last is the
most serious as well as most apparent. A marriage of this kind, in nine
cases out of ten, tends to demorality. It is followed by immediate
neglect on the part of the husband, whose affections were already placed
elsewhere when he gave his hand at the altar; and is soon regarded by
the wife merely as a civil compact, to which the usages of society
oblige her to subscribe. With _her_, however, this state of things had
not been anticipated. The innate, all-powerful feeling, _love_, had, up
to this period, lain dormant within her breast--for in Spain, if the
extremely early age at which females marry did not of itself warrant
this supposition, the little intercourse which, under any circumstances,
an unmarried woman (of the upper classes of society) has with the world,
naturally leads to the conclusion that her affections had not previously
been engaged; she expects, therefore, to receive from her husband the
same boundless affection that her inexperienced heart is disposed to
bestow on him;--and what is the inevitable consequence? Disappointed in
her cherished hope of occupying the first place in her husband's
affections, her innocence is tarnished at the very outset, by thus
acquiring the knowledge of his turpitude; she turns from him with
disgust; and her better feelings, seared by jealousy and wounded pride,
seeks out some other object on whom to bestow the love slighted by him,
who pledged himself to cherish it.
Thrown thus at an early age upon the world, without the least experience
in its ways, with strong passions to lead, and evil examples to seduce
her, is it surprising that a Spanish wife should wander from the path of
virtue, and that she should hold constancy to her lover more sacred than
fidelity to a husband who quietly submits to see another possess her
affections?
The understanding once established, however, that jealousy is not to
disturb the ménage, the parties live together with all the outward
appearances of mutual esteem, and inflict the history of their private
bickerings only upon their favoured friends.
The Spaniards of all classes have great conversational powers, but even
those of the upper are sadly deficient in general information. Their
knowledge of other nations is picked up entirely from books, and those
books mostly old ones; for few works are now written in their own
language, and still fewer are translated from those of other countries;
so that what little knowledge of mankind they possess is of the last
century.
Cards help out the conversation at the Tertulias of the first circle.
Dancing, forfeits, and other puerile games, are the resources of the
rest. Balls and suppers are _funciones_ reserved for great occasions,
and dinner parties are of equally rare occurrence.
In the entertainments of the nobility, the French style prevails even to
the wines, but the national dish, the _olla_, generally serves as a
prelude, and may be considered the "_piece de resistance_" of the
interminable dinner. Toothpicks (!!) and coffee are handed round, and
the party breaks up, to seek in the _siesta_ renewed powers of
digestion.
To those, however, who think exercise more conducive to health, the
environs of Seville hold out plenty of attractions; and, if the weather
be too hot for either walking or riding, the city contains hackney
coaches and _calesas_ without number, by means of which (most of the
roads in the vicinity being level) the various interesting points may be
reached without difficulty or inconvenience.
The places most deserving of a visit in the immediate environs of
Seville, are the villages of _San Juan de Alfarache_ and _Santi Ponce_;
near the latter of which are the ruins of Italica.
Both these places are situated on the right bank of the Guadalquivír;
the former, about three miles below Seville, the latter a little more
distant, up the stream. The road to both traverses the long town of
Triana, which contains nothing worthy of observation but a sombre gothic
edifice, where the high altar of Popish bigotry, the Inquisition, was
first raised in the Spanish dominions. It has long, however, been
converted to another purpose, never, let us hope, to be again applied to
that which for so many ages disgraced Christianity.
By many Triana is supposed to be the Osset of Pliny, but I think without
sufficient reason, as it does not seem probable that a place merely
divided from Seville by a narrow river should have been distinguished by
him as a distinct city. The words of Pliny, "_ex adverso oppidum
Osset_," imply certainly that Osset stood on the opposite bank of the
river to Hispalis, but not that it was situated _immediately opposite_,
as some authors have translated it. It is yet more evident that Alcalà
de Guadaira cannot be Osset, as supposed by Harduin, since that town is
on the _same_ side of the Guadalquivír as Seville.
Florez imagines Osset to have been where San Juan de Alfarache now
stands,[53] near which village traces of an ancient city have been
discovered; and the position occupied by an old Moorish castle, on the
edge of a high cliff, impending over the river, and commanding its
navigation, seems clearly to indicate the site of a Roman station, since
the Saracens usually erected their castles upon the foundations of the
dilapidated fortresses of their predecessors. The village of San Juan de
Alfarache stands at the foot of the before-mentioned cliff, compressed
between it and the Guadalquivír; which river, making a wide sweep to the
north on leaving Seville, here first reaches the roots of the chain of
hills bounding the extensive plain through which it winds its way to the
sea, and is by them turned back into its original direction.
Of the Moorish fortress little now remains but the foundation walls; the
stones of the superstructure having probably been used to build the
church and convent that now occupy the plateau of the hill. The view
from thence is quite enchanting, embracing a long perspective of the
meandering Guadalquivír and its verdant plain, the whole extent of the
shining city, and the distant blue outline of the Ronda mountains.
The hills rising at the back of the convent are thickly covered with
olive trees, the fruit of which is the most esteemed of all Spain: and,
indeed, those who have eaten them on the spot, if they like the flavour
of olive rather than of salt and water, would say they are the best in
the world. The fruit is suffered to hang upon the tree until it has
attained its full size, and consequently will not bear a long journey.
For the same reason, it will not keep any length of time, as the salt in
which it is preserved cannot penetrate to a sufficient depth in its oily
flesh to secure it from decay. Let no one say, however, that he dislikes
_olives_, until he has been to San Juan de Alfarache.
Retracing our steps some way towards Seville, we reach the great road
leading from that city into Portugal by way of Badajoz; and, continuing
along the plain for about five miles, we arrive at the priory of Santi
Ponce, situated on the margin of the Guadalquivír, and close to the
ruins of Italica. So complete has been the destruction of this once
celebrated city, the birth-place of three Roman Emperors, that, but for
the vestiges of its spacious amphitheatre, one would be inclined to
doubt whether any town could possibly have stood upon the spot; the more
so as the vicinity of Seville seems, at first sight, to render it
improbable that two such large cities would have been built within so
short a distance of each other.
Opinions on the subject of the relative antiquity of these two cities
are, however, very various; for, whilst some Spaniards are to be found,
who maintain that Hispalis was founded long before Italica, and some
who, declaring, on the other hand, that the two cities never existed
together, insist on calling Italica, _Sevilla la Vieja_;[54] others
there are who suppose that the two cities flourished contemporaneously
for a considerable period, and that Hispalis (the more modern of the
two) eventually caused the other's destruction.
This last hypothesis might readily be received, since, from the
influence of the tide being felt at Seville and not at Santi Ponce, the
situation of the former is so much more favourable for trade than that
of the latter; but that, setting aside the traditionary authority of
Seville having been founded by _Hispalis_, one of the companions of
Hercules, we have the testimony of several writers to prove that
Hispalis was a place of consequence when Italica must have been yet in
its infancy. For the antiquity of this latter is never carried further
back than the 144th Olympiad, i.e. 200 B.C. Now, Hispalis is mentioned
by Hirtius, at no very great period after that date, as a city of great
importance; whereas, Italica is noticed by him (proving it to have been
a _distinct_ place) merely as a walled town in the vicinity.[55]
The two places are again mentioned separately by Pliny; the one,
however, as a large city, giving its name to a vast extent of
country--the _Conventus Hispalensis_--the other as one of the towns
within the limits of that city's jurisdiction.
The foundation of Italica being fixed, therefore, about two hundred
years before the Christian era, and attributed to the veteran soldiers
of P. C. Scipio; that is to say, immediately after the expulsion of the
Carthagenians from the country; it may naturally be concluded that the
Romans, who had not come to Spain merely to drive out their rivals,
would, with their usual foresight, have planted a colony of their own
people to overawe the _principal city_ of a country they intended to
bring under subjection; and hence, that Seville existed long before
Italica was founded.
The amphitheatre, which alone remains to prove the former grandeur of
Italica, is of a wide oval shape. The dimensions of its arena are 270
feet in its greatest diameter, 190 in its least. It rests partly against
a hill, a circumstance that has tended materially to save what little
remains of it from destruction; but, nevertheless, only nine tiers of
seats have offered a successful resistance to the encroachments of the
plough. Few of the vomitorios can be traced, but it would appear that
there were sixteen. Some of the caverns in which the wild beasts were
confined are in tolerable preservation.
From the ruined amphitheatre we were conducted to a kind of pound,
enclosed by a high mud wall, and secured by a stout gate, wherein we
were informed other reliques of Italica were preserved. There was some
little delay in obtaining the key of this _museo_, the _custodio_ being
at his _siesta_; and, hearing the grunting of pigs within, we began to
doubt whether it could contain any thing worth detaining us under a
broiling sun to see. Unwilling, however, to be disappointed, we
clambered with some little difficulty to the top of the wall, and,
_horresco referens!_ beheld an old sow rubbing her back against that of
the Emperor Hadrian, whilst the profane snouts of her young progeny were
grubbing at the tesselated cheeks of Clio and Urania, the only two of
the immortal Nine whose features could be distinctly traced in an
elaborate mosaic pavement that covered the greater part of the court.
Several fragments of statues were strewed about; but all were in too
mutilated a state to excite the least interest. The feeling with which
we contemplated the beautiful, outraged pavement, was one of unmitigated
disgust; for the workmanship of such parts of it as remained intact was
of the most delicate description, the stones not being more than one
fifth of an inch square, and, as far as we could judge, put together so
as to form a picture of great merit. I fear that this valuable specimen
of the art has long since been altogether lost, for, at the time of
which I write, the stones were lying in heaps about the yard, and the
pavement seemed likely to be subjected to a continuance of the mining
operations of the "swinish multitude," as well as to exposure to the
destructive ravages of the elements.
I could not refrain from expostulating with the owner of the piggery
(when he at length made his appearance) at this, in the words of Don
Quijote, _puerco y extraordinario abuso_. He was a wag, however, and
answered my "Why do you keep your pigs here?" precisely in the words
that an Irish peasant replied to a very similar question, viz., "But am
I to have the company of the pig?" put to him by a friend of mine, who
had a billet for a night's lodging on his cabin: to wit, "_No hay toda
comodidad_?" "Isn't there every convey'nance?"
We then attempted to persuade him that the pigs being young and
inexperienced would probably kill themselves by swallowing the little
square stones piled up against the walls, when the supply of Indian corn
failed them. "No, Señor," he replied; "_el Puerco es un animal que tiene
mas sesos que una casa_." "The hog is an animal that has more (sesos)
brains (or bricks) than a house." And, indeed, the discrimination of the
animal is wonderful, for, whilst we were yet arguing the case, one of
the little brutes grubbed up the entire left cheek of Calliope, to get
at a grain of corn that had fallen into one of the numerous crow's feet
with which unsparing Time had furrowed the Muse's animated countenance.
Without further observation, therefore, we abandoned the chaste
daughters of Mnemosyne to their ignominious fate, remounted our horses,
and bent our steps homewards.
The foreigner who visits Seville, under any circumstances, cannot but
find it a most delightful place, and our short sojourn at it was
rendered particularly agreeable by the kindness and hospitality of the
_Marques de las Amarillas_, who, independent of the pleasure it at all
times affords him to show his regard for the English, whom he considers
as his old brothers in arms, was pleased to express peculiar
gratification at having an opportunity of evincing his sense of some
trifling attentions that it had been in my power to pay his only son,
when, as well as himself, driven by political persecution to seek a
refuge within the walls of Gibraltar.
The life of this distinguished nobleman, now Duke of Ahumado, has been
singularly varied by the smiles and frowns of fortune, and furnishes a
melancholy proof of the little that can be effected by talents, however
exalted, and patriotism, however pure, in a country writhing, like
Spain, under the combined torments of religious and political
revolution. For, the more sincere a lover of his country he who puts
himself forward, _having aught to lose_, may be, the more he becomes an
object of distrust and envy to _the many_, who seek in change but their
own aggrandizement. To him who would take the helm of affairs in times
of revolution, an unscrupulous conscience is yet more necessary than the
possession of extraordinary talents.
The Marques de las Amarillas, well known in the "Peninsular War" as
General Giron, was appointed minister at war in the first cabinet formed
by Ferdinand VII. after he had sworn to the Constitution. A sincere
lover of rational liberty, and a strong advocate for a mixed form of
government, the Marques, himself a soldier, saw the danger of permitting
the very existence of the government to be at the mercy of the
undisciplined rabble army, that, seduced by its democratic leaders for
their own private ends, had effected the revolution; and had projected a
plan for its partial reduction and entire reorganization.
The _Exaltados_, however, fearful lest the establishment of a _rational_
form of government should result from a project which certainly would
have had the effect of allaying the existing agitation, accused the
Marques of a plot to subvert the constitution, and restore Ferdinand to
a despotic throne; and he was obliged to save himself from the impending
danger by a rapid flight, and to take refuge within the walls of
Gibraltar. There he remained during the period of misrule that preceded
the invasion of the country by the Duc d'Angoulême in 1823; suffering,
during the feeble struggle that ensued, from the most painfully
conflicting feelings that could possibly enter a patriot's breast. For,
aware that his unhappy country had but the sad alternative of a
continuance in anarchy and misery, or of bending the neck to foreign
dictation, and receiving back the cast-off yoke of a despot, he could
take no active part in a struggle which, end as it would, was fraught
with mischief to his native land.
It ended, as he had always foreseen, in the restoration of the
despicable monarch, who possessed neither the courage to draw the sword
in defence of what he conceived to be his _rights_, nor the virtue to
adhere to the word pledged to his people; who by his contemptible
intrigues exposed, and by his vacillating plans sacrificed, his most
devoted adherents; who with his dying breath bequeathed the scourge of
civil war to his wretched country; whose very existence, in fine, was as
hurtful to Spain, as is the odour of the upas-tree to the incautious
traveller who rests beneath its shade.
The contemptible Ferdinand, restored to his throne, forbade the _Marques
de las Amarillas_ to present himself in the capital--the crime of having
held office in a constitutional cabinet being considered quite
sufficient to warrant the infliction of such a punishment. Some ten
years afterwards, however, he was, through the influence of his
relatives, the Dukes of Baylen and Infantado, appointed captain-general
of Andalusia, and on the death of Ferdinand was called to Madrid, to
form one of the Council of Regency.
He again held a distinguished post in the Torreno administration, and
again fell under the displeasure of the anarchists--his talents had less
influence than the halbert of Serjeant Gomez.
These are not merely "_cosas de España_," however, but have been, and
will be, those of every country where the hydra, democracy, is
cherished. God grant that our own may be preserved from the many-headed
monster!
We quitted Seville only "upon compulsion" (our leave of absence being
limited), making choice of a road which, though, by visiting Moron and
Ronda, it proceeds rather circuitously to Gibraltar, traverses a more
romantic and picturesque portion of the Serranía than any other. The
most direct of the numerous roads that offer themselves between Seville
and the British fortress, is by way of Dos Hermanos, Coronil, Ubrique,
and Ximena.
The first place lying upon the road we selected is Alcalà de Guadaira.
This town is distant about eight miles from Seville (though generally
marked much less on the maps), and is the first post station on the
great road from Seville to Madrid.
For the first five miles from Seville the road traverses a gently
undulated country, that is chiefly planted with corn; but, on drawing
near Alcalà, the features of the ground become more strongly marked, and
are clothed with olive and other trees; and amongst the hills that
encompass the town rise the copious springs which, led into a conduit,
supply Seville with water. Alcalà administers to yet another of the
great city's most material wants, for it almost exclusively furnishes
Seville with bread, whence it has received the agnomen of "_de los
panaderos_" (of the bread-makers), as well as that of "_de Guadaira_,"
which it takes from the river that runs in its vicinity. The numerous
mills situated along the course of this stream, by furnishing easy means
of grinding corn, probably led the inhabitants of Alcalà to engage in
the extensive kneading and baking operations which are carried on there.
The immediate approach to the town is by a narrow gorge between two
steep hills; that on the right, which is the more elevated of the two,
and very rugged and difficult of access, is washed on three sides by the
Guadaira, and crowned with extensive ruins of a Moorish fortress. The
town itself is pent in between these two hills and the river, and, there
can be but little doubt, occupies the site of some Roman city, its
situation being quite such as would have been chosen by that people.
That it is not on the site of Osset is, as I have before observed, quite
evident, and its present name, being completely Moorish, furnishes no
clue whatever to discover that which it formerly bore. Some have
supposed it is Orippo; but inscriptions found at Dos Hermanos determine
that place to be on the ruins of the said Roman town. Possibly--for such
a supposition accords with the order in which the towns of the county
of Hispalis are mentioned by Pliny--Alcalà may be Vergentum.
It is a long dirty town, full of ovens and charcoal, and contains a
population of 3000 souls. The chaussée to Madrid, by Cordoba, here
branches off to the left; whilst that to Xeres and Cadiz, crossing the
Guadaira, is directed far inland upon Utrera, rendering it extremely
circuitous. A more direct road strikes off from it immediately after
crossing the river, proceeding by way of Dos Hermanos.
We still continued to pursue the great road, which, after ascending a
range of hills that rises along the left bank of the Guadaira, traverses
a perfectly flat country, abounding in olives, that extends all the way
to Utrera, a distance of eleven miles.
Utrera thus stands in the midst of a vast plain, that may be considered
the first step from the marshes of the Guadalquivír, towards the Ronda
mountains, which are yet twelve miles distant to the eastward. A slight
mound, that rises in the centre of the town, and is embraced by an
extensive circuit of dilapidated walls, doubtless offered the inducement
to build a town here; and these walls, some parts of which are very
lofty, and in a tolerably perfect state, appear to be Roman, though the
castle and its immediate outworks are Moorish.
What the ancient name of the town was would, without the help of
monuments or inscriptions, be now impossible to determine, but it
certainly did not lie upon either of the routes laid down in the
Itinerary of Antoninus, between Cadiz and Cordoba, though some have
imagined it to be Ilipa.[56] Others have supposed it to be Siarum; but
adopting Harduin's reading of Pliny--"Caura, Siarum," instead of
Caurasiarum--it seems more likely that Utrera was Caura, and that Moron,
or some other town yet more distant from Seville, was Siarum.
By its present name it is well known in Moorish history, its rich
_campiña_ having frequently been ravaged by the Moslems, after they had
been driven from the open country to seek shelter in the neighbouring
mountains.
At the present day, it is celebrated only for its breeds of saints and
bulls, the former ranked amongst the most devout, the latter the most
ferocious, of Andalusia. The town is large, and not walled in; the
streets are wide and clean, and a plentiful stream rises near and
traverses the place--remarkable as being the only running water within a
circuit of several miles. It contains 15,000 inhabitants, mostly
agriculturists, and a very tolerable inn.
Utrera, as has already been observed, is situated on the _arrecife_, or
great road, from Cadiz to Madrid, which _arrecife_ makes two
considerable elbows to visit this place and Alcalà. Now from Utrera
there is a cross-road to Carmona (which town is also situated on the
great route to the capital), that, by avoiding Alcalà, reduces the
distance between the two places from seven to six leagues; and from
Utrera there is also another cross-road (by way of Arajal) to Ecija,
which, by cutting off another angle made by the _arrecife_, effects a
yet greater saving in the distance to that city, and consequently to
Cordoba and Madrid. From these circumstances, Utrera becomes, in
military phrase, an important _strategical_ point; and as such, the
French, when advancing upon Cadiz in 1810, attempted to gain it by the
cross-road from Ecija, ere the Duke of Albuquerque, who had taken post
at Carmona, with the view of covering Seville, could reach it by the
_arrecife_. The duke, however, with great judgment, abandoned Seville to
what he well knew must eventually be its fate, and by a rapid march
saved Cadiz, though not without having to engage in a cavalry skirmish
to cover his retreat.
What important consequences hung upon the decision of that moment; for
how different might have been the result of the war, had the important
fortress of Cadiz fallen into the enemy's hands, and given them 30,000
disposable troops at that critical juncture![57]
On issuing from Utrera, we once more quit the chaussée (which is
henceforth directed very straight upon Xeres), and, taking an easterly
course, proceed towards a lofty mountain, that, seemingly detached from
the serrated mass, juts slightly forward into the plain.
At the distance of six miles from Utrera, the ground, which thus far is
quite flat and very barren, begins to be slightly undulated, and is here
and there dotted with _cortijos_ and corn fields; and, at eight miles
from Utrera, a road crosses from Arajah to Coronil; the first-named town
being distant about two miles on the left, the latter half a league on
the right. For the next league the country is one waving corn-field. At
the end of that distance we reached the steep banks of a rivulet, which
here first issues from the mountains, and is called _El Salado de
Moron_. The road crosses to the right bank of this stream, on gaining
which it immediately turns to the north (keeping parallel to the ridge
of the detached mountain, upon which, as I have already noticed, it had
previously been directed), and ascends very gradually towards Moron. The
country, during this latter portion of the road, is partially wooded.
The total distance from Utrera to Moron is about sixteen miles.
Moron is singularly situated, being nestled in the lap of five distinct
hills, the easternmost and loftiest of which is occupied by an old
castle, a mixed work of the Romans and Moors.
According to La Martinière, Moron is on the site of Arunci; and this
opinion seems to rest on a better foundation than that of other authors,
who maintain that Arcos occupies the position of the above-named ancient
city; for it is natural to suppose that the territory of the _Celtici_
(amongst whose towns _Arunci_ is enumerated by Pliny) did not extend
beyond the intricate belt of mountains known at the present day as the
_Serranía de Ronda_. Now, Moron commands one of the principal entrances
to the Serranía, whereas Arcos is situated far in the plains of the
Guadalete towards Xeres, and would seem rather to have been one of the
cities of the "county of Cadiz."
Moron is a strong post, for though raised but slightly above the great
plain of Utrera, it commands all the ground in its immediate
neighbourhood; and, standing as it does in a mountain gorge, by which
several roads debouch upon Seville from various parts of the _Serranía_,
it occupies a military position of some consequence. The French guarded
it jealously during the war, and placed the castle in a defensible
state. Since those days its walls have again been dismantled; but the
strength of its position tempted Riego (1820) to try the chances of a
battle with the royal army, commanded by General Josef O'Donnel, ere he
finally abandoned the mountains.
In vain, however, Riego pointed out to his men the far distant hill of
_Las Cabezas_, where they had first raised the cry of "Constitution, or
death;" their _exaltacion_ had abandoned them, and they in turn
abandoned their exaltation, leaving their strong position after a very
slight resistance. A few days afterwards, at _Fuente Ov
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