Departure from Oviedo-Villa Viciosa-The Young Man of the Inn-Antonio"s Tale-The General and his Family-Woful Tidings-To-morrow we die-San Vicente-Santander-An Harangue-Flinter the Irishman.
So we left Oviedo and directed our course towards Santander. The man who accompanied us as guide, and from whom I hired the pony on which I rode, had been recommended to me by my friend the merchant of Oviedo. He proved, however, a lazy, indolent fellow; he was generally loitering two or three hundred yards in our rear, and instead of enlivening the way with song and tale, like our late guide, Martin of Rivadeo, he scarcely ever opened his lips, save to tell us not to go so fast, or that I should burst his pony if I spurred him so. He was thievish withal, and though he had engaged to make the journey _seco_, {82} that is, to defray the charges of himself and beast, he contrived throughout to keep both at our expense. When journeying in Spain, it is invariably the cheapest plan to agree to maintain the guide and his horse or mule, for by so doing the hire is diminished at least one-third, and the bills upon the road are seldom increased; whereas, in the other case, he pockets the difference, and yet goes shot free, and at the expense of the traveller, through the connivance of the innkeepers, who have a kind of fellow-feeling with the guides.
Late in the afternoon we reached Villa Viciosa, a small dirty town, at the distance of eight leagues from Oviedo: it stands beside a creek which communicates with the Bay of Biscay. It is sometimes called La Capital de las Avellanas, or the Capital of the Filberts, from the immense quant.i.ty of this fruit which is grown in the neighbourhood; and the greatest part of which is exported to England. As we drew nigh we overtook numerous carts laden with _avellanas_ proceeding in the direction of the town. I was informed that several small English vessels were lying in the harbour. Singular as it may seem, however, notwithstanding we were in the Capital of the Avellanas, it was with the utmost difficulty that I procured a scanty handful for my dessert, and of these more than one-half were decayed. The people of the house informed me that the nuts were intended for exportation, and that they never dreamt either of partaking of them themselves or of offering them to their guests.
At an early hour on the following day we reached Colunga, a beautiful village on a rising ground, thickly planted with chestnut trees. It is celebrated, at least in the Asturias, as being the birthplace of Arguelles, the father of the Spanish const.i.tution.
As we dismounted at the door of the _posada_, where we intended to refresh ourselves, a person who was leaning out of an upper window uttered an exclamation and disappeared. We were yet at the door, when the same individual came running forth and cast himself on the neck of Antonio. He was a good-looking young man, apparently about five-and-twenty, genteelly dressed, with a _montero_ cap on his head.
Antonio looked at him for a moment, and then with an "_Ah_, _Monsieur_, _est ce bien vous_?" shook him affectionately by the hand. The stranger then motioned him to follow him, and they forthwith proceeded to the room above.
Wondering what this could mean, I sat down to my morning repast. Nearly an hour elapsed, and still Antonio did not make his appearance. Through the boards, however, which composed the ceiling of the kitchen where I sat, I could hear the voices of himself and his acquaintance, and thought that I could occasionally distinguish the sound of broken sobs and groans. At last there was a long pause. I became impatient, and was about to summon Antonio, when he made his appearance, but unaccompanied by the stranger. "What, in the name of all that is singular," I demanded, "have you been about? Who is that man?" "_Mon maitre_," said Antonio, "_c"est un monsieur de ma connaissance_. With your permission I will now take a mouthful, and as we journey along I will tell you all that I know of him."
"_Monsieur_," said Antonio, as we rode out of Colunga, "you are anxious to know the history of the gentleman whom you saw embrace me at the inn.
Know, _mon maitre_, that these Carlist and _Cristino_ wars have been the cause of much misery and misfortune in this country; but a being so thoroughly unfortunate as that poor young gentleman of the inn, I do not believe is to be found in Spain, and his misfortunes proceed entirely from the spirit of party and faction which for some time past has been so prevalent.
"_Mon maitre_, as I have often told you, I have lived in many houses and served many masters, and it chanced that about ten years ago I served the father of this gentleman, who was then a mere boy. It was a very high family, for _monsieur_ the father was a general in the army, and a man of large possessions. The family consisted of the general, his lady, and two sons; the youngest of whom is the person you have just seen, the other was several years older. _Pardieu_! I felt myself very comfortable in that house, and every individual of the family had all kind of complaisance for me. It is singular enough, that though I have been turned out of so many families, I was never turned out of that; and though I left it thrice, it was of my own free will. I became dissatisfied with the other servants, or with the dog or the cat. The last time I left was on account of the quail which was hung out of the window of _madame_, and which waked me in the morning with its call. _Eh bien_, _mon maitre_, things went on in this way during the three years that I continued in the family, out and in; at the end of which time it was determined that the young gentleman should travel, and it was proposed that I should attend him as valet. This I wished very much to do. However, _par malheur_, I was at this time very much dissatisfied with _madame_ his mother about the quail, and insisted that before I accompanied him the bird should be slaughtered for the kitchen. To this _madame_ would by no means consent; and even the young gentleman, who had always taken my part on other occasions, said that I was unreasonable: so I left the house in a huff, and never entered it again.
"_Eh bien_, _mon maitre_, the young gentleman went upon his travels, and continued abroad several years; and from the time of his departure until we met him at Colunga, I have not set eyes upon, nor indeed heard of him.
I have heard enough, however, of his family; of _monsieur_ the father, of _madame_, and of the brother, who was an officer of cavalry. A short time before the troubles, I mean before the death of Ferdinand, _monsieur_ the father was appointed captain-general of Corunna. Now _monsieur_, though a good master, was rather a proud man, and fond of discipline, and all that kind of thing, and of obedience. He was, moreover, no friend to the populace, to the _canaille_, and he had a particular aversion to the nationals. So, when Ferdinand died, it was whispered about at Corunna that the general was no liberal, and that he was a better friend to Carlos than Christina. _Eh bien_, it chanced that there was a grand _fete_, or festival, at Corunna, on the water, and the nationals were there, and the soldiers. And I know not how it befell, but there was an _emeute_, and the nationals laid hands on _monsieur_ the general, and tying a rope round his neck, flung him overboard from the barge in which he was, and then dragged him astern about the harbour until he was drowned. They then went to his house, and pillaged it, and so ill-treated _madame_, who at that time happened to be _enceinte_, that in a few hours she expired.
"I tell you what, _mon maitre_, when I heard of the misfortune of _madame_ and the general, you would scarcely believe it, but I actually shed tears, and was sorry that I had parted with them in unkindness on account of that pernicious quail.
"_Eh bien_, _mon maitre_, _nous poursuivrons notre histoire_. The eldest son, as I told you before, was a cavalry officer, and a man of resolution, and when he heard of the death of his father and mother, he vowed revenge. Poor fellow! So what does he do but desert, with two or three discontented spirits of his troop, and going to the frontier of Galicia, he raised a small faction, and proclaimed Don Carlos. For some little time he did considerable damage to the liberals, burning and destroying their possessions, and putting to death several nationals that fell into his hands. However, this did not last long; his faction was soon dispersed, and he himself taken and hanged, and his head stuck on a pole.
"_Nous sommes deja presque au bout_. When we arrived at the inn, the young man took me above, as you saw, and there for some time he could do nothing but weep and sob. His story is soon told:-he returned from his travels, and the first intelligence which awaited him on his arrival in Spain was, that his father was drowned, his mother dead, and his brother hanged, and, moreover, all the possessions of his family confiscated.
This was not all: wherever he went, he found himself considered in the light of a factious and discontented person, and was frequently a.s.sailed by the nationals with blows of sabres and cudgels. He applied to his relations, and some of these, who were of the Carlist persuasion, advised him to betake himself to the army of Don Carlos, and the Pretender himself, who was a friend of his father, and remembered the services of his brother, offered to give him a command in his army. But, _mon maitre_, as I told you before, he was a pacific young gentleman, and as mild as a lamb, and hated the idea of shedding blood. He was, moreover, not of the Carlist opinion, for during his studies he had read books written a long time ago by countrymen of mine, all about republics and liberties, and the rights of man, so that he was much more inclined to the liberal than the Carlist system; he therefore declined the offer of Don Carlos, whereupon all his relations deserted him, whilst the liberals hunted him from one place to another like a wild beast. At last, he sold some little property which still remained to him, and with the proceeds he came to this remote place of Colunga, where no one knew him, and where he has been residing for several months, in a most melancholy manner, with no other amus.e.m.e.nt than that which he derives from a book or two, or occasionally hunting a leveret with his spaniel.
"He asked me for counsel, but I had none to give him, and could only weep with him. At last he said, "Dear Antonio, I see there is no remedy. You say your master is below; beg him, I pray, to stay till tomorrow, and we will send for the maidens of the neighbourhood, and for a violin and bagpipe, and we will dance and cast away care for a moment." And then he said something in old Greek, which I scarcely understood, but which I think was equivalent to, "Let us eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow we die!"
"_Eh bien_, _mon maitre_, I told him that you were a serious gentleman, who never took any amus.e.m.e.nt, and that you were in a hurry. Whereupon he wept again, and embraced me, and bade me farewell. And now, _mon maitre_, I have told you the history of the young man of the inn."
We slept at Ribida de Sella, and the next day at noon arrived at Llanes.
Our route lay between the coast and an immense range of mountains, which rose up like huge ramparts at about a league"s distance from the sea.
The ground over which we pa.s.sed was tolerably level, and seemingly well cultivated. There was no lack of vines and trees, whilst at short intervals rose the _cortijos_ of the proprietors-square stone buildings surrounded with an outer wall. Llanes is an old town, formerly of considerable strength. In its neighbourhood is the convent of San Cilorio, one of the largest monastic edifices in all Spain. It is now deserted, and stands alone and desolate upon one of the peninsulas of the Cantabrian sh.o.r.e. Leaving Llanes, we soon entered one of the most dreary and barren regions imaginable, a region of rock and stone, where neither gra.s.s nor trees were to be seen. Night overtook us in these places. We wandered on, however, until we reached a small village, termed Santo Colombo. Here we pa.s.sed the night, in the house of a carabineer of the revenue, a tall athletic figure, who met us at the gate, armed with a gun. He was a Castilian, and with all that ceremonious formality and grave politeness for which his countrymen were at one time so celebrated.
He chid his wife for conversing with her handmaid about the concerns of the house before us. "Barbara," said he, "this is not conversation calculated to interest the strange cavaliers; hold your peace, or go aside with the _muchacha_." In the morning he refused any remuneration for his hospitality, "I am a _caballero_," said he, "even as yourselves.
It is not my custom to admit people into my house for the sake of lucre.
I received you because you were benighted and the _posada_ distant."
Rising early in the morning, we pursued our way through a country equally stony and dreary as that which we had entered upon the preceding day. In about four hours we reached San Vicente, a large and dilapidated town, chiefly inhabited by miserable fishermen. It retains, however, many remarkable relics of former magnificence: the bridge, which bestrides the broad and deep firth on which stands the town, has no less than thirty-two arches, and is built of grey granite. It is very ancient, and in some parts in so ruinous a condition as to be dangerous.
Leaving San Vicente behind us, we travelled for some leagues on the seash.o.r.e, crossing occasionally a narrow inlet or firth. The country at last began to improve, and in the neighbourhood of Santillana was both beautiful and fertile. About a league before we reached the country of Gil Blas we pa.s.sed through an extensive wood, in which were rocks and precipices; it was exactly such a place as that in which the cave of Rolando was situated, as described in the novel. The wood has an evil name, and our guide informed us that robberies were occasionally committed in it. No adventure, however, befell us, and we reached Santillana at about six in the evening.
We did not enter the town, but halted at a large _venta_, or _posada_, at the entrance, before which stood an immense ash tree. We had scarcely housed ourselves when a tremendous storm of rain and wind commenced, accompanied with thunder and lightning, which continued without much interruption for several hours, and the effects of which were visible in our journey of the following day, the streams over which we pa.s.sed being much swollen, and several trees lying uptorn by the wayside. Santillana contains four thousand inhabitants, and is six short leagues" distance from Santander, where we arrived early the next day.
Nothing could exhibit a stronger contrast to the desolate tracts and the half-ruined towns through which we had lately pa.s.sed, than the bustle and activity of Santander, which, though it stands on the confines of the Basque provinces, the stronghold of the Pretender, is almost the only city in Spain which has not suffered by the Carlist wars. Till the close of the last century it was little better than an obscure fishing town, but it has of late years almost entirely engrossed the commerce of the Spanish transatlantic possessions, especially of the Havannah. The consequence of which has been, that whilst Santander has rapidly increased in wealth and magnificence, both Corunna and Cadiz have been as rapidly hastening to decay. At present it possesses a n.o.ble quay, on which stands a line of stately edifices, far exceeding in splendour the palaces of the aristocracy of Madrid. These are built in the French style, and are chiefly occupied by the merchants. The population of Santander is estimated at sixty thousand souls.
On the day of my arrival I dined at the _table-d"hote_ of the princ.i.p.al inn, kept by a Genoese. The company was very miscellaneous-French, Germans, and Spaniards, all speaking in their respective languages, whilst at the ends of the table, confronting each other, sat two Catalan merchants, one of whom weighed nearly twenty stone, grunting across the board in their harsh dialect. Long, however, before dinner was concluded the conversation was entirely engrossed and the attention of all present directed to an individual who sat on one side of the bulky Catalan. He was a thin man of about the middle height, with a remarkably red face, and something in his eyes which, if not a squint, bore a striking resemblance to it. He was dressed in a blue military frock, and seemed to take much more pleasure in haranguing than in the fare which was set before him. He spoke perfectly good Spanish, yet his voice betrayed something of a foreign accent. For a long time he descanted with immense volubility on war and all its circ.u.mstances, freely criticizing the conduct of the generals, both Carlist and _Cristinos_, in the present struggle, till at last he exclaimed, "Had I but twenty thousand men allowed me by the government, I would bring the war to a conclusion in six months."
"Pardon me, sir," said a Spaniard who sat at the table, "the curiosity which induces me to request the favour of your distinguished name."
"I am Flinter," replied the individual in the military frock, "a name which is in the mouth of every man, woman, and child in Spain. I am Flinter {92} the Irishman, just escaped from the Basque provinces and the claws of Don Carlos. On the decease of Ferdinand, I declared for Isabella, esteeming it the duty of every good cavalier and Irishman in the Spanish service to do so. You have all heard of my exploits, and permit me to tell you they would have been yet more glorious had not jealousy been at work and cramped my means. Two years ago I was despatched to Estremadura, to organize the militias. The bands of Gomez and Cabrera entered the province, and spread devastation around. They found me, however, at my post; and had I been properly seconded by those under my command, the two rebels would never have returned to their master to boast of their success. I stood behind my intrenchments. A man advanced and summoned us to surrender. "Who are you?" I demanded.
"I am Cabrera," he replied; "and I am Flinter," I retorted flourishing my sabre; "retire to your battalions, or you will forthwith die the death."
He was awed, and did as I commanded. In an hour we surrendered. I was led a prisoner to the Basque provinces; and the Carlists rejoiced in the capture they had made, for the name of Flinter had long sounded amongst the Carlist ranks. I was flung into a loathsome dungeon, where I remained twenty months. I was cold; I was naked; but I did not on that account despond-my spirit was too indomitable for such weakness. My keeper at last pitied my misfortunes. He said that "it grieved him to see so valiant a man perish in inglorious confinement." We laid a plan to escape together; disguises were provided, and we made the attempt. We pa.s.sed un.o.bserved till we arrived at the Carlist lines above Bilbao: there we were stopped. My presence of mind, however, did not desert me.
I was disguised as a carman, as a Catalan, and the coolness of my answers deceived my interrogators. We were permitted to pa.s.s, and soon were safe within the walls of Bilbao. There was an illumination that night in the town, for the lion had burst his toils, Flinter had escaped, and was once more returned to reanimate a drooping cause. I have just arrived at Santander, on my way to Madrid, where I intend to ask of the government a command, with twenty thousand men."
Poor Flinter! a braver heart and a more gasconading mouth were surely never united in the same body. He proceeded to Madrid, and through the influence of the British amba.s.sador, who was his friend, he obtained the command of a small division, with which he contrived to surprise and defeat, in the neighbourhood of Toledo, a body of the Carlists, commanded by Orejita, whose numbers more than trebled his own. In reward for this exploit he was persecuted by the government, which, at that time, was the _moderado_ or _juste milieu_, with the most relentless animosity; the prime minister, Ofalia, supporting with all his influence numerous and ridiculous accusations of plunder and robbery brought against the too successful general by the Carlist canons of Toledo. He was likewise charged with a dereliction of duty, in having permitted, after the battle of Valdepenas, which he likewise won in the most gallant manner, the Carlist force to take possession of the mines of Almaden, although the government, who were bent on his ruin, had done all in their power to prevent him from following up his successes, by denying him the slightest supplies and reinforcements. The fruits of victory thus wrested from him, his hopes blighted, a morbid melancholy seized upon the Irishman; he resigned his command, and, in less than ten months from the period when I saw him at Santander, afforded his dastardly and malignant enemies a triumph which satisfied even them, by cutting his own throat with a razor.
Ardent spirits of foreign climes, who hope to distinguish yourselves in the service of Spain, and to earn honours and rewards, remember the fate of Columbus, and of another as brave and as ardent-Flinter!
CHAPTER x.x.xV.
Departure from Santander-The Night Alarm-The Black Pa.s.s.
I had ordered two hundred Testaments to be sent to Santander from Madrid: I found, however, to my great sorrow, that they had not arrived, and I supposed that they had either been seized on the way by the Carlists, or that my letter had miscarried. I then thought of applying to England for a supply, but I abandoned the idea for two reasons. In the first place, I should have to remain idly loitering, at least a month, before I could receive them, at a place where every article was excessively dear; and, secondly, I was very unwell, and unable to procure medical advice at Santander. Ever since I left Corunna, I had been afflicted with a terrible dysentery, and latterly with an ophthalmia, the result of the other malady. I therefore determined on returning to Madrid. To effect this, however, seemed no very easy task. Parties of the army of Don Carlos, which, in a partial degree, had been routed in Castile, were hovering about the country through which I should have to pa.s.s, more especially in that part called "The Mountains," so that all communication had ceased between Santander and the southern districts. Nevertheless, I determined to trust as usual in the Almighty, and to risk the danger. I purchased, therefore, a small horse, and sallied forth with Antonio.
Before departing, however, I entered into conference with the booksellers as to what they should do in the event of my finding an opportunity of sending them a stock of Testaments from Madrid; and, having arranged matters to my satisfaction, I committed myself to Providence. I will not dwell long on this journey of three hundred miles. We were in the midst of the fire, yet, strange to say, escaped without a hair of our heads being singed. Robberies, murders, and all kinds of atrocities were perpetrated before, behind, and on both sides of us; but not so much as a dog barked at us, though in one instance a plan had been laid to intercept us. About four leagues from Santander, whilst we were baiting our horses at a village hostelry, I saw a fellow run off after having held a whispering conversation with a boy who was dealing out barley to us. I instantly inquired of the latter what the man had said to him, but only obtained an evasive answer. It appeared afterwards that the conversation was about ourselves. Two or three leagues farther there was an inn and village where we had proposed staying, and indeed had expressed our intention of doing so; but on arriving there, finding that the sun was still far from its bourne, I determined to proceed farther, expecting to meet with a resting-place at the distance of a league; though I was mistaken, as we found none until we reached Montaneda, nine leagues and a half from Santander, where was stationed a small detachment of soldiers. At the dead of night, we were aroused from our sleep by a cry that the "factious" were not far off. A messenger had arrived from the _alcalde_ of the village where we had previously intended staying, who stated that a party of Carlists had just surprised that place, and were searching for an English spy, whom they supposed to be at the inn.
The officer commanding the soldiers, upon hearing this, not deeming his own situation a safe one, instantly drew off his men, falling back on a stronger party stationed in a fortified village near at hand. As for ourselves, we saddled our horses and continued our way in the dark. Had the Carlists succeeded in apprehending me, I should instantly have been shot, and my body cast on the rocks to feed the vultures and wolves. But "it was not so written," said Antonio, who, like many of his countrymen, was a fatalist. The next night we had another singular escape: we had arrived near the entrance of a horrible pa.s.s called "_El puerto de la puente de las tablas_," or the pa.s.s of the bridge of planks, which wound through a black and frightful mountain, on the farther side of which was the town of Onas, where we meant to tarry for the night. The sun had set about a quarter of an hour. Suddenly a man, with his face covered with blood, rushed out of the pa.s.s. "Turn back, sir," he said, "in the name of G.o.d; there are murderers in that pa.s.s; they have just robbed me of my mule, and all I possess, and I have hardly escaped with life from their hands!" I scarcely know why, but I made him no answer, and proceeded; indeed I was so weary and unwell that I cared not what became of me. We entered; the rocks rose perpendicularly, right and left, entirely intercepting the scanty twilight, so that the darkness of the grave, or rather the blackness of the valley of the shadow of death, reigned around us, and we knew not where we went, but trusted to the instinct of the horses, who moved on with their heads close to the ground. The only sound which we heard was the plash of a stream, which tumbled down the pa.s.s. I expected every moment to feel a knife at my throat, but "_it was not so written_." We threaded the pa.s.s without meeting a human being, and within three-quarters of an hour after the time we entered it, we found ourselves within the _posada_ of the town of Onas, which was filled with troops and armed peasants expecting an attack from the grand Carlist army, which was near at hand.
Well, we reached Burgos in safety; {98} we reached Valladolid in safety; we pa.s.sed the Guadarrama in safety; and were at length safely housed in Madrid. People said we had been very lucky; Antonio said, "It was so written;" but I say, Glory be to the Lord for His mercies vouchsafed to us.
CHAPTER x.x.xVI.
State of Affairs at Madrid-The New Ministry-Pope of Rome-The Bookseller of Toledo-Sword-blades-Houses of Toledo-The Forlorn Gypsy-Proceedings at Madrid-Another Servant.
During my journey in the northern provinces of Spain, which occupied a considerable portion of the year 1837, I had accomplished but a slight portion of what I proposed to myself to effect in the outset.
Insignificant are the results of man"s labours compared with the swelling ideas of his presumption; something, however, had been effected by the journey which I had just concluded. The New Testament of Christ was now enjoying a quiet sale in the princ.i.p.al towns of the north, and I had secured the friendly interest and co-operation of the booksellers of those parts, particularly of him the most considerable of them all, old Rey of Compostella. I had, moreover, disposed of a considerable number of Testaments with my own hands, to private individuals, entirely of the lower cla.s.ses, namely, muleteers, carmen, _contrabandistas_, etc., so that upon the whole I had abundant cause for grat.i.tude and thanksgiving.
I did not find our affairs in a very prosperous state at Madrid, few copies having been sold in the booksellers" shops; yet what could be rationally expected during these latter times? Don Carlos, with a large army, had been at the gates; plunder and ma.s.sacre had been expected; so that people were too much occupied in forming plans to secure their lives and property to give much attention to reading of any description.
The enemy, however, had now retired to his strongholds in Alava and Guipuzcoa. I hoped that brighter days were dawning, and that the work, under my own superintendence, would, with G.o.d"s blessing, prosper in the capital of Spain. How far the result corresponded with my expectations will be seen in the sequel.
During my absence in the north, a total change of ministers had occurred.
The liberal party had been ousted from the cabinet, and in their place had entered individuals attached to the _moderado_ or court party: unfortunately, however, for my prospects, they consisted of persons with whom I had no acquaintance whatever, and with whom my former friends, Galiano and Isturitz, had little or no influence. These gentlemen were now regularly laid on the shelf, and their political career appeared to be terminated for ever. {100}
From the present ministry I could expect but little; they consisted of men the greater part of whom had been either courtiers or employes of the deceased King Ferdinand, who were friends to absolutism, and by no means inclined to do or to favour anything calculated to give offence to the court of Rome, which they were anxious to conciliate, hoping that eventually it might be induced to recognize the young queen, not as the const.i.tutional but as the absolute Queen Isabella the Second.
Such was the party which continued in power throughout the remainder of my sojourn in Spain, and which persecuted me less from rancour and malice than from policy. It was not until the conclusion of the war of the succession that it lost the ascendency, when it sank to the ground with its patroness the queen-mother, before the dictatorship of Espartero.
The first step which I took after my return to Madrid, towards circulating the Scriptures, was a very bold one. It was neither more nor less than the establishment of a shop for the sale of Testaments. This shop was situated in the Calle del Principe, a respectable and well-frequented street in the neighbourhood of the Square of Cervantes.
I furnished it handsomely with gla.s.s cases and chandeliers, and procured an acute Gallegan of the name of Pepe Calzado, to superintend the business, who gave me weekly a faithful account of the copies sold.