The Bible in Spain Volume I Part 4

A beautiful boy of about thirteen now came from the direction of the town, running along the road with the velocity of a hare: he stopped before the dead mule, and burst into tears. It was the man's son, who had heard of the accident from Antonio. This was too much for the poor fellow; he ran up to the boy, and said, "Don't cry. Our bread is gone, but it is G.o.d's will; the mule is dead!" He then flung himself on the ground, uttering fearful cries. "I could have borne my loss," said he, "but when I saw my child cry, I became a fool." I gave him two or three crowns, and added some words of comfort; a.s.suring him I had no doubt that, if he abandoned drink, the Almighty G.o.d would take compa.s.sion on him and repair his loss. At length he became more composed, and, placing my baggage in the chaise, we returned to the town, where I found two excellent riding mules awaiting my arrival at the inn. I did not see the Spanish woman, or I should have told her of the little efficacy of rosemary in this instance.

I have known several drunkards amongst the Portuguese, but, without one exception, they have been individuals who, having travelled abroad, like this fellow, have returned with a contempt for their own country, and polluted with the worst vices of the lands which they have visited.

I would strongly advise any of my countrymen who may chance to read these lines, that, if their fate lead them into Spain or Portugal, they avoid hiring as domestics, or being connected with, individuals of the lower cla.s.ses who speak any other language than their own, as the probability is that they are heartless thieves and drunkards. These gentry are invariably saying all they can in dispraise of their native land; and it is my opinion, grounded upon experience, that an individual who is capable of such baseness would not hesitate at the perpetration of any villany, for next to the love of G.o.d, the love of country is the best preventive of crime. He who is proud of his country will be particularly cautious not to do anything which is calculated to disgrace it.

We now journeyed towards Lisbon, and reached Monte Moro about two o'clock. After taking such refreshment as the place afforded, we pursued our way till we were within a quarter of a league of the huts which stand on the edge of the savage wilderness we had before crossed. Here we were overtaken by a horseman; he was a powerful, middle-sized man, and was mounted on a n.o.ble Spanish horse. He had a broad, slouching _sombrero_ on his head, and wore a jerkin of blue cloth, with large bosses of silver for b.u.t.tons, and clasps of the same metal; he had breeches of yellow leather, and immense jack-boots: at his saddle was slung a formidable gun. He inquired if I intended to pa.s.s the night at Vendas Novas, and on my replying in the affirmative, he said that he would avail himself of our company. He now looked towards the sun, whose disk was rapidly sinking beneath the horizon, and entreated us to spur on and make the most of its light, for that the moor was a horrible place in the dusk.

He placed himself at our head, and we trotted briskly on, the boy, or muleteer, who attended us running behind without exhibiting the slightest symptom of fatigue.

We entered upon the moor, and had advanced about a mile when dark night fell around us. We were in a wild path, with high brushwood on either side, when the rider said that he could not confront the darkness, and begged me to ride on before, and he would follow after: I could hear him trembling. I asked the reason of his terror, and he replied, that at one time darkness was the same thing to him as day, but that of late years he dreaded it, especially in wild places. I complied with his request, but I was ignorant of the way, and, as I could scarcely see my hand, was continually going wrong. This made the man impatient, and he again placed himself at our head. We proceeded so for a considerable way, when he again stopped, and said that the power of the darkness was too much for him. His horse seemed to be infected with the same panic, for it shook in every limb. I now told him to call on the name of the Lord Jesus, who was able to turn the darkness into light; but he gave a terrible shout, and, brandishing his gun aloft, discharged it in the air.

His horse sprang forward at full speed, and my mule, which was one of the swiftest of its kind, took fright and followed at the heels of the charger. Antonio and the boy were left behind. On we flew like a whirlwind, the hoofs of the animals illuming the path with the sparks of fire they struck from the stones. I knew not whither we were going, but the dumb creatures were acquainted with the way, and soon brought us to Vendas Novas, where we were rejoined by our companions.

I thought this man was a coward, but I did him injustice, for during the day he was as brave as a lion, and feared no one. About five years since he had overcome two robbers who had attacked him on the moors, and, after tying their hands behind them, had delivered them up to justice; but at night the rustling of a leaf filled him with terror. I have known similar instances of the kind in persons of otherwise extraordinary resolution. For myself, I confess I am not a person of extraordinary resolution, but the dangers of the night daunt me no more than those of midday. The man in question was a farmer from Evora, and a person of considerable wealth.

I found the inn at Vendas Novas thronged with people, and had some difficulty in obtaining accommodation and refreshment. It was occupied by the family of a certain _fidalgo_ {55} from Estremoz; he was on the way to Lisbon, conveying a large sum of money, as was said-probably the rents of his estates. He had with him a body-guard of four and twenty of his dependants, each armed with a rifle; they consisted of his shepherds, swineherds, cowherds, and hunters, and were commanded by two youths, his son and nephew, the latter of whom was in regimentals. Nevertheless, notwithstanding the number of his troop, it appeared that the _fidalgo_ laboured under considerable apprehension of being despoiled upon the waste which lay between Vendas Novas and Peges, as he had just requested a guard of four soldiers from the officer who commanded a detachment stationed here. There were many females in his company, who, I was told, were his illegitimate daughters-for he bore an infamous moral character, and was represented to me as a staunch friend of Don Miguel. It was not long before he came up to me and my new acquaintance, as we sat by the kitchen fire: he was a tall man of about sixty, but stooped much. His countenance was by no means pleasing: he had a long hooked nose, small, twinkling, cunning eyes, and, what I liked worst of all, a continual sneering smile, which I firmly believe to be the index of a treacherous and malignant heart. He addressed me in Spanish, which, as he resided not far from the frontier, he spoke with fluency; but, contrary to my usual practice, I was reserved and silent.

On the following morning I rose at seven, and found that the party from Estremoz had started several hours previously. I breakfasted with my acquaintance of the preceding night, and we set out to accomplish what remained of our journey. The sun had now arisen, and all his fears had left him-he breathed defiance against all the robbers of the Alemtejo.

When we had advanced about a league, the boy who attended us said he saw heads of men amongst the brushwood. Our cavalier instantly seized his gun, and, causing his horse to make two or three lofty bounds, held it in one hand, the muzzle pointed in the direction indicated; but the heads did not again make their appearance, and it was probably but a false alarm.

We resumed our way, and the conversation turned, as might be expected, upon robbers. My companion, who seemed to be acquainted with every inch of ground over which we pa.s.sed, had a legend to tell of every dingle and every pine-clump. We reached a slight eminence, on the top of which grew three stately pines: about half a league farther on was another similar one. These two eminences commanded a view of the road from Peges and Vendas Novas, so that all people going and coming could be descried whilst yet at a distance. My friend told me that these heights were favourite stations of robbers. Some two years since, a band of six mounted banditti remained there three days, and plundered whomsoever approached from either quarter. Their horses, saddled and bridled, stood picqueted at the foot of the trees, and two scouts, one for each eminence, continually sat in the topmost branches, and gave notice of the approach of travellers. When at a proper distance, the robbers below sprung upon their horses, and putting them to full gallop, made at their prey, shouting, "_Rendete_, _Picaro_! _Rendete_, _Picaro_!" {57} We, however, pa.s.sed unmolested, and, about a quarter of a mile before we reached Peges, overtook the family of the _fidalgo_.

Had they been conveying the wealth of Ind through the deserts of Arabia, they could not have travelled with more precaution. The nephew, with drawn sabre, rode in front; pistols in his holsters, and the usual Spanish gun slung at his saddle. Behind him tramped six men in a rank, with muskets shouldered, and each of them wore at his girdle a hatchet, which was probably intended to cleave the thieves to the brisket should they venture to come to close quarters. There were six vehicles, two of them calashes, in which latter rode the _fidalgo_ and his daughters; the others were covered carts, and seemed to be filled with household furniture. Each of these vehicles had an armed rustic on either side; and the son, a lad about sixteen, brought up the rear with a squad equal to that of his cousin in the van. The soldiers, who, by good fortune, were light horse, and admirably mounted, were galloping about in all directions, for the purpose of driving the enemy from cover, should they happen to be lurking in the neighbourhood.

I could not help thinking, as I pa.s.sed by, that this martial array was very injudicious, for though it was calculated to awe plunderers, it was likewise calculated to allure them, as it seemed to hint that immense wealth was pa.s.sing through their territories. I do not know how the soldiers and rustics would have behaved in case of an attack, but am inclined to believe that if three such men as Richard Turpin had suddenly galloped forth from behind one of the bush-covered knolls, neither the numbers nor resistance opposed to them would have prevented them from bearing away the contents of the strong box jingling in their saddle-bags.

From this moment nothing worthy of relating occurred till our arrival at Aldea Gallega, where we pa.s.sed the night, and next morning at three o'clock embarked in the pa.s.sage-boat for Lisbon, where we arrived at eight: and thus terminates my first wandering in the Alemtejo.

CHAPTER V.

The College-The Rector-Shibboleth-National Prejudices-Youthful Sports-Jews of Lisbon-Bad Faith-Crime and Superst.i.tion.

One afternoon Antonio said to me, "It has struck me, _Senhor_, {59a} that your worship would like to see the college of the English . . ." {59b} "By all means," I replied, "pray conduct me thither." So he led me through various streets until we stopped before the gate of a large building, in one of the most elevated situations in Lisbon. Upon our ringing, a kind of porter presently made his appearance, and demanded our business. Antonio explained it to him. He hesitated for a moment; but, presently bidding us enter, conducted us to a large gloomy-looking stone hall, where, begging us to be seated, he left us. We were soon joined by a venerable personage, seemingly about seventy, in a kind of flowing robe or surplice, with a collegiate cap upon his head. Notwithstanding his age there was a ruddy tinge upon his features, which were perfectly English. Coming slowly up he addressed me in the English tongue, requesting to know how he could serve me. I informed him that I was an English traveller, and should be happy to be permitted to inspect the college, provided it were customary to show it to strangers. He informed me that there could be no objection to accede to my request, but that I came at rather an unfortunate moment, it being the hour of refection. I apologized, and was preparing to retire, but he begged me to remain, as in a few minutes the refection would be over, when the princ.i.p.als of the college would do themselves the pleasure of waiting on me.

We sat down on the stone bench, when he commenced surveying me attentively for some time, and then cast his eyes on Antonio. "Whom have we here?" said he to the latter; "surely your features are not unknown to me." "Probably not, your reverence," replied Antonio, getting up, and bowing most profoundly. "I lived in the family of the Countess ---, at Cintra, when your venerability was her spiritual guide." "True, true,"

said the old gentleman, sighing, "I remember you now. Ah, Antonio, things are strangely changed since then. A new government-a new system-a new religion, I may say." Then, looking again at me, he demanded whither I was journeying. "I am going to Spain," said I, "and have stopped at Lisbon by the way." "Spain, Spain!" said the old man. "Surely you have chosen a strange time to visit Spain; there is much blood-shedding in Spain at present, and violent wars and tumults." "I consider the cause of Don Carlos as already crushed," I replied; "he has lost the only general capable of leading his armies to Madrid. Zumalacarregui, his Cid, has fallen." "Do not flatter yourself; I beg your pardon, but do not think, young man, that the Lord will permit the powers of darkness to triumph so easily. The cause of Don Carlos is not lost: its success did not depend on the life of a frail worm like him whom you have mentioned."

We continued in discourse some little time, when he arose, saying that by this time he believed the refection was concluded.

He had scarcely left me five minutes when three individuals entered the stone hall, and advanced slowly towards me. The princ.i.p.als of the college, said I to myself; and so indeed they were. The first of these gentlemen, and to whom the other two appeared to pay considerable deference, was a thin, spare person, somewhat above the middle height; his complexion was very pale, his features emaciated but fine, his eyes dark and sparkling; he might be about fifty. The other two were men in the prime of life. One was of rather low stature; his features were dark, and wore that pinched and mortified expression so frequently to be observed in the countenance of the English . . .: the other was a bluff, ruddy, and rather good-looking young man. All three were dressed alike in the usual college cap and silk gown. Coming up, the eldest of the three took me by the hand, and thus addressed me in clear silvery tones:-

"Welcome, sir, to our poor house. We are always happy to see in it a countryman from our beloved native land; it will afford us extreme satisfaction to show you over it; it is true that satisfaction is considerably diminished by the reflection that it possesses nothing worthy of the attention of a traveller; there is nothing curious pertaining to it save, perhaps, its economy, and that, as we walk about, we will explain to you. Permit us, first of all, to introduce ourselves to you. I am rector of this poor English house of refuge; this gentleman is our professor of humanity; and this" (pointing to the ruddy personage) "is our professor of polite learning, Hebrew, and Syriac."

_Myself_.-I humbly salute you all. Excuse me if I inquire who was the venerable gentleman who put himself to the inconvenience of staying with me whilst I was awaiting your leisure.

_Rector_.-Oh, a most admirable personage, our almoner, our chaplain; he came into this country before any of us were born, and here he has continued ever since. Now let us ascend that we may show you our poor house. But how is this, my dear sir, how is it that I see you standing uncovered in our cold, damp hall?

_Myself_.-I can easily explain that to you; it is a custom which has become quite natural to me. I am just arrived from Russia, where I have spent some years. A Russian invariably takes off his hat whenever he enters beneath a roof, whether it pertain to hut, shop, or palace. To omit doing so would be considered as a mark of brutality and barbarism, and for the following reason: in every apartment of a Russian house there is a small picture of the Virgin stuck up in a corner, just below the ceiling-the hat is taken off out of respect to her.

Quick glances of intelligence were exchanged by the three gentlemen. I had stumbled upon their shibboleth, and proclaimed myself an Ephraimite, and not of Gilead. I have no doubt that up to that moment they had considered me as one of themselves-a member, and perhaps a priest, of their own ancient, grand, and imposing religion, for such it is, I must confess-an error into which it was natural that they should fall. What motives could a Protestant have for intruding upon their privacy? What interest could he take in inspecting the economy of their establishment?

So far, however, from relaxing in their attention after this discovery, their politeness visibly increased, though, perhaps, a scrutinizing observer might have detected a shade of less cordiality in their manner.

_Rector_.-Beneath the ceiling in every apartment? I think I understood you so. How delightful-how truly interesting; a picture of the Blessed Virgin beneath the ceiling in every apartment of a Russian house! Truly, this intelligence is as unexpected as it is delightful. I shall from this moment entertain a much higher opinion of the Russians than hitherto-most truly an example worthy of imitation. I wish sincerely that it was our own practice to place an image of the Blessed Virgin beneath the ceiling in every corner of our houses. What say you, our professor of humanity? What say you to the information so obligingly communicated to us by this excellent gentleman?

_Humanity Professor_.-It is indeed most delightful, most cheering, I may say; but I confess that I was not altogether unprepared for it. The adoration of the Blessed Virgin is becoming every day more extended in countries where it has. .h.i.therto been unknown or forgotten. Dr. W---, when he pa.s.sed through Lisbon, gave me some most interesting details with respect to the labours of the propaganda in India. Even England, our own beloved country. . . .

My obliging friends showed me all over their "poor house." It certainly did not appear a very rich one; it was s.p.a.cious, but rather dilapidated.

The library was small, and possessed nothing remarkable; the view, however, from the roof, over the greater part of Lisbon and the Tagus, was very grand and n.o.ble. But I did not visit this place in the hope of seeing busts, or books, or fine prospects,-I visited this strange old house to converse with its inmates; for my favourite, I might say my only, study is man. I found these gentlemen much what I had antic.i.p.ated; for this was not the first time that I had visited an English . . .

establishment in a foreign land. They were full of amiability and courtesy to their heretic countryman, and though the advancement of their religion was with them an object of paramount importance, I soon found that, with ludicrous inconsistency, they cherished, to a wonderful degree, national prejudices almost extinct in the mother land, even to the disparagement of those of their own darling faith. I spoke of the English . . ., of their high respectability, and of the loyalty which they had uniformly displayed to their sovereign, though of a different religion, and by whom they had been not unfrequently subjected to much oppression and injustice.

_Rector_.-My dear sir, I am rejoiced to hear you; I see that you are well acquainted with the great body of those of our faith in England. They are, as you have well described them, a most respectable and loyal body; from loyalty, indeed, they never swerved, and though they have been accused of plots and conspiracies, it is now well known that such had no real existence, but were merely calumnies invented by their religious enemies. During the civil wars the English . . . cheerfully shed their blood and squandered their fortunes in the cause of the unfortunate martyr, notwithstanding that he never favoured them, and invariably looked upon them with suspicion. At present the English . . . are the most devoted subjects of our gracious sovereign. I should be happy if I could say as much for our Irish brethren; but their conduct has been-oh, detestable! Yet what can you expect? The true . . . blush for them. A certain person is a disgrace to the church of which he pretends to be the servant. Where does he find in our canons sanction for his proceedings, his undutiful expressions towards one who is his sovereign by divine right, and who can do no wrong? And above all, where does he find authority for inflaming the pa.s.sions of a vile mob against a nation intended by nature and by position to command them?

_Myself_.-I believe there is an Irish college in this city?

_Rector_.-I believe there is; but it does not flourish; there are few or no pupils. Oh!

I looked through a window, at a great height, and saw about twenty or thirty fine lads sporting in a court below. "This is as it should be,"

said I; "those boys will not make worse priests from a little early devotion to trap-ball and cudgel playing. I dislike a staid, serious, puritanic education, as I firmly believe that it encourages vice and hypocrisy."

We then went into the Rector's room, where, above a crucifix, was hanging a small portrait.

_Myself_.-That was a great and portentous man, honest withal. I believe the body of which he was the founder, and which has been so much decried, has effected infinitely more good than it has caused harm.

_Rector_.-What do I hear? You, an Englishman, and a Protestant, and yet an admirer of Ignatius Loyola?

_Myself_.-I will say nothing with respect to the doctrine of the Jesuits, for, as you have observed, I am a Protestant; but I am ready to a.s.sert that there are no people in the world better qualified, upon the whole, to be entrusted with the education of youth. Their moral system and discipline are truly admirable. Their pupils, in after-life, are seldom vicious and licentious characters, and are in general men of learning, science, and possessed of every elegant accomplishment. I execrate the conduct of the liberals of Madrid in murdering last year the helpless fathers, by whose care and instruction two of the finest minds of Spain have been evolved-the two ornaments of the liberal cause and modern literature of Spain, for such are Toreno and Martinez de la Rosa. {66} .

Gathered in small cl.u.s.ters about the pillars at the lower extremities of the gold and silver streets in Lisbon, may be observed, about noon in every day, certain strange-looking men whose appearance is neither Portuguese nor European. Their dress generally consists of a red cap, with a blue silken ta.s.sel at the top of it, a blue tunic girded at the waist with a red sash, and wide linen pantaloons or trousers. He who pa.s.ses by these groups generally hears them conversing in broken Spanish or Portuguese, and occasionally in a harsh guttural language, which the oriental traveller knows to be the Arabic, or a dialect thereof. These people are the Jews of Lisbon. {67a} Into the midst of one of these groups I one day introduced myself, and p.r.o.nounced a _beraka_, or blessing. I have lived in different parts of the world, much amongst the Hebrew race, and am well acquainted with their ways and phraseology. I was rather anxious to become acquainted with the state of the Portuguese Jews, and I had now an opportunity. "The man is a powerful rabbi," said a voice in Arabic; "it behoves us to treat him kindly." They welcomed me. I favoured their mistake, and in a few days I knew all that related to them and their traffic in Lisbon. {67b}

The Jews of Europe at the present time are divided into two cla.s.ses-synagogues, as some call them-the Portuguese and German. Of these the most celebrated is the Portuguese. Jews of this cla.s.s are generally considered as more polished than the others, better educated, and more deeply versed both in the language of Scripture and the traditions of their forefathers. In London there is a stately edifice which is termed the synagogue of the Portuguese Jews, where the rites of the Hebrew religion are performed with all possible splendour and magnificence. Knowing all this, one would naturally expect, on arriving in Portugal, to find one's self in the head-quarters of that Judaism with which the mind has been accustomed to a.s.sociate so much that is respectable and imposing. It was, therefore, with feelings of considerable surprise that I heard from the beings, whom I have attempted to describe above, the following account of themselves:-"We are not of Portugal," said they; "we come from Barbary, some from Algier, some from the Levant, but mostly from Barbary, yonder-away!" And they pointed to the south-west.

"And where are the Jews of Portugal," I demanded: "the proper children of the country?"

"We know of none but ourselves," replied the Barbaresques, "though we have heard say that there are others: if so, they do not come near us, and they do right, for we are an evil people, O thou _Tsadik_, and thieves to a man. A ship comes every year from Swirah; {68} it brings a cargo of thieves, for it brings Jews."

"And your wives and families," said I, "where are they?"

"In Swirah, or Salee, or other places from whence we come. We bring not our wives with us, nor our families: many of us have escaped hither barely with life, flying from the punishment due to our crimes. Some live in sin with the daughters of the Nazarene: for we are an evil race, O _Tsadik_, and do not observe the precepts of the law."

"And have you synagogues and teachers?"

"Both, O thou righteous one, yet little can be said of either: our _chenourain_ are vile places, and our teachers are like ourselves, bound in the _galoot_ of sin. One of them keeps in his house a daughter of the Nazarene; he is from Swirah, and what good ever came from that sh.o.r.e?"

"You say your teachers are evil: do ye hearken unto their words?"

"Of course we hearken unto them: how could we do else and live? Our teachers are evil men, and live by fraud, like ourselves; yet still are they masters, men to be dreaded and obeyed. Have they not witchcraft at their command, and angels? Have they not words of power, and the _Shem Hamphorash_? {69} Were we not to hearken to them, could they not consign our souls to horror, to mist and vapour, to mire and clay? Even as thou couldst, O righteous one!"