The Bible in Spain Volume I Part 20

_Myself_.-I have never had that honour; the prison is generally the last place which I think of visiting.

_Lady_.-See the difference of tastes: I have been to see the prison of Valladolid, and it seems as tiresome as the town.

_Myself_.-Of course, if grief and tediousness exist anywhere, you will find them in the prison.

_Lady_.-Not in that of Toro.

_Myself_.-What does that of Toro possess to distinguish it from all others?

_Lady_.-What does it possess? _Vaya_! Am I not the _carcelera_? Is not my husband the _alcayde_? {300b} Is not that son of mine a child of the prison?

_Myself_.-I beg your pardon, I was not aware of that circ.u.mstance; it of course makes much difference.

_Lady_.-I believe you. I am a daughter of that prison: my father was _alcayde_, and my son might hope to be so, were he not a fool.

_Myself_.-His countenance, then, belies him strangely. I should be loth to purchase that youngster for a fool.

_Gaoleress_.-You would have a fine bargain if you did: he has more _picardias_ than any _calabozero_ in Toro. What I mean is, that he does not take to the prison as he ought to do, considering what his fathers were before him. He has too much pride-too many fancies; and he has at length persuaded me to bring him to Valladolid, where I have arranged with a merchant who lives in the _Plaza_ to take him on trial. I wish he may not find his way to the prison: if he do, he will find that being a prisoner is a very different thing from being a son of the prison.

_Myself_.-As there is so much merriment at Toro, you of course attend to the comfort of your prisoners.

_Gaoleress_.-Yes, we are very kind to them-I mean to those who are _caballeros_; but as for those with vermin and _miseria_, what can we do?

It is a merry prison that of Toro; we allow as much wine to enter as the prisoners can purchase and pay duty for. This of Valladolid is not half so gay: there is no prison like Toro. I learned there to play on the guitar. An Andalusian cavalier taught me to touch the guitar and to sing _a la Gitana_. Poor fellow, he was my first _novio_. Juanito, bring me the guitar, that I may play this gentleman a tune of Andalusia.

The _carcelera_ had a fine voice, and touched the favourite instrument of the Spaniards in a truly masterly manner. I remained listening to her performance for nearly an hour, when I retired to my apartment and my repose. I believe that she continued playing and singing during the greater part of the night, for as I occasionally awoke I could still hear her; and even in my slumbers the strings were ringing in my ears.

CHAPTER XXII.

Duenas-Children of Egypt-Jockeyism-The Baggage Pony-The Fall-Palencia-Carlist Priests-The Look-out-Priestly Sincerity-Leon-Antonio alarmed-Heat and Dust.

After a sojourn of about ten days at Valladolid, we directed our course towards Leon. We arrived about noon at Duenas, {303} a town at the distance of six short leagues from Valladolid. It is in every respect a singular place: it stands on a rising ground, and directly above it towers a steep conical mountain of calcareous earth, crowned by a ruined castle. Around Duenas are seen a mult.i.tude of caves scooped in the high banks and secured with strong doors. These are cellars, in which is deposited the wine, of which abundance is grown in the neighbourhood, and which is chiefly sold to the Navarrese and the mountaineers of Santander, who arrive in cars drawn by oxen, and convey it away in large quant.i.ties.

We put up at a mean posada in the suburb for the purpose of refres.h.i.+ng our horses. Several cavalry soldiers were quartered there, who instantly came forth, and began, with the eyes of connoisseurs, to inspect my Andalusian _entero_. "A capital horse that would be for our troop," said the corporal; "what a chest he has! By what right do you travel with that horse, _senor_, when so many are wanted for the queen's service? He belongs to the _requiso_." {304a} "I travel with him by right of purchase, and being an Englishman," I replied. "Oh, your wors.h.i.+p is an Englishman," answered the corporal; "that, indeed, alters the matter.

The English in Spain are allowed to do what they please with their own, which is more than the Spaniards are. Cavalier, I have seen your countrymen {304b} in the Basque provinces; _vaya_, what riders! what horses! They do not fight badly either. But their chief skill is in riding: I have seen them dash over _barrancos_ to get at the factious, who thought themselves quite secure, and then they would fall upon them on a sudden and kill them to a man. In truth, your wors.h.i.+p, this is a fine horse; I must look at his teeth."

I looked at the corporal-his nose and eyes were in the horse's mouth: the rest of the party, who might amount to six or seven, were not less busily engaged. One was examining his fore feet, another his hind; one fellow was pulling at his tail with all his might, while another pinched the windpipe, for the purpose of discovering whether the animal was at all touched there. At last, perceiving that the corporal was about to remove the saddle, that he might examine the back of the animal, I exclaimed-

"Stay, ye _chabes_ of Egypt, ye forget that ye are _hundunares_, {304c} and are no longer _paruguing grastes_ in the _chardi_."

The corporal at these words turned his face full upon me, and so did all the rest. Yes, sure enough, there were the countenances of Egypt, and the fixed filmy stare of eye. We continued looking at each other for a minute at least, when the corporal, a villanous-looking fellow, at last said, in the richest gypsy whine imaginable, "The _erray_ knows us, the poor _Calore_! And he an Englishman! _Bullati_! I should not have thought that there was e'er a _Busno_ would know us in these parts, where _Gitanos_ are never seen. Yes, your wors.h.i.+p is right; we are all here of the blood of the _Calore_. We are from _Melegrana_, your wors.h.i.+p; they took us from thence and sent us to the wars. Your wors.h.i.+p is right; the sight of that horse made us believe we were at home again in the _mercado_ of Granada; he is a countryman of ours, a real _Andalou_. _Por dios_, your wors.h.i.+p, sell us that horse; we are poor _Calore_, but we can buy him."

"You forget that you are soldiers," said I. "How should you buy my horse?"

"We are soldiers, your wors.h.i.+p," said the corporal, "but we are still _Calore_. We buy and sell _bestis_; the captain of our troop is in league with us. We have been to the wars, but not to fight; we left that to the _Busne_. We have kept together, and, like true _Calore_, have stood back to back. We have made money in the wars, your wors.h.i.+p. _No tenga usted cuidao_. {305a} We can buy your horse."

Here he pulled out a purse, which contained at least ten _ounces_ {305b} of gold.

"If I were willing to sell," I replied, "what would you give me for that horse?"

"Then your wors.h.i.+p wishes to sell your horse-that alters the matter. We will give ten dollars for your wors.h.i.+p's horse. He is good for nothing."

"How is this?" said I. "You this moment told me he was a fine horse-an Andalusian, and a countryman of yours."

"No, _senor_! we did not say that he was an _Andalou_. We said he was an _Estremou_, and the worst of his kind. He is eighteen years old, your wors.h.i.+p, short-winded and galled."

"I do not wish to sell my horse," said I; "quite the contrary. I had rather buy than sell."

"Your wors.h.i.+p does not wish to sell your horse," said the gypsy. "Stay, your wors.h.i.+p; we will give sixty dollars for your wors.h.i.+p's horse."

"I would not sell him for two hundred and sixty. _Meclis_! _Meclis_! say no more. I know your gypsy tricks. I will have no dealings with you."

"Did I not hear your wors.h.i.+p say that you wished to buy a horse?" said the gypsy.

"I do not want to buy a horse," said I; "if I need anything it is a pony to carry our baggage. But it is getting late. Antonio, pay the reckoning."

"Stay, your wors.h.i.+p, do not be in a hurry," said the gypsy; "I have got the very pony which will suit you."

Without waiting for my answer, he hurried into the stable, from whence he presently returned, leading an animal by a halter. It was a pony of about thirteen hands high, of a dark red colour; it was very much galled all over, the marks of ropes and thongs being visible on its hide. The figure, however, was good, and there was an extraordinary brightness in its eye.

"There, your wors.h.i.+p," said the gypsy; "there is the best pony in all Spain."

"What do you mean by showing me this wretched creature?" said I.

"This wretched creature," said the gypsy, "is a better horse than your _Andalou_!"

"Perhaps you would not exchange," said I, smiling.

"_Senor_, what I say is, that he shall run with your _Andalou_, and beat him."

"He looks feeble," said I; "his work is well-nigh done."

"Feeble as he is, _senor_, you could not manage him; no, nor any Englishman in Spain."

I looked at the creature again, and was still more struck with its figure. I was in need of a pony to relieve occasionally the horse of Antonio in carrying the baggage which we had brought from Madrid, and though the condition of this was wretched, I thought that by kind treatment I might possibly soon bring him round.

"May I mount this animal?" I demanded.

"He is a baggage pony, _senor_, and is ill to mount. He will suffer none but myself to mount him, who am his master. When he once commences running, nothing will stop him but the sea. He springs over hills and mountains, and leaves them behind in a moment. If you will mount him, _senor_, suffer me to fetch a bridle, for you can never hold him in with the halter."

"This is nonsense," said I. "You pretend that he is spirited in order to enhance the price. I tell you his work is done."

I took the halter in my hand and mounted. I was no sooner on his back than the creature, who had before stood stone still, without displaying the slightest inclination to move, and who in fact gave no farther indication of existence than occasionally rolling his eyes and p.r.i.c.king up an ear, sprang forward like a racehorse, at a most desperate gallop.

I had expected that he might kick or fling himself down on the ground, in order to get rid of his burden, but for this escapade I was quite unprepared. I had no difficulty, however, in keeping on his back, having been accustomed from my childhood to ride without a saddle. To stop him, however, baffled all my endeavours, and I almost began to pay credit to the words of the gypsy, who had said that he would run on until he reached the sea. I had, however, a strong arm, and I tugged at the halter until I compelled him to turn slightly his neck, which from its stiffness might almost have been of wood; he, however, did not abate his speed for a moment. On the left side of the road down which he was das.h.i.+ng was a deep trench, just where the road took a turn towards the right, and over this he sprang in a sideward direction. The halter broke with the effort; the pony shot forward like an arrow, whilst I fell back into the dust.

"_Senor_," said the gypsy, coming up with the most serious countenance in the world, "I told you not to mount that animal unless well bridled and bitted. He is a baggage pony, and will suffer none to mount his back, with the exception of myself who feed him." (Here he whistled, and the animal, who was scurring over the field, and occasionally kicking up his heels, instantly returned with a gentle neigh.) "Now, your wors.h.i.+p, see how gentle he is. He is a capital baggage pony, and will carry all you have over the hills of Galicia."