THE ATLANTIC COAST AND THE FRONTIER
If one could be high enough in air and had a sufficient range of
vision, one would see Galicia's coast on the Atlantic side jutting
into the ocean something after the manner of the jagged teeth of
a colossal saw, from the fangs of Finisterre to the greater fangs
southward between Muros, Arosa, Pontevedra, and Vigo Bays, and
northward to Cape Ortegal. But it is not necessary to soar skyward
to comprehend what Galicia's coast is like, for that can be done
from the promenade deck of a liner and the tops of hills. The
wild, romantic scenery at Ferrol, Corunna, and remoter places like
Finisterre and Corcubion are in themselves enough to fascinate
the visitor who seeks majestic solitude and primitive existence.
Finisterre is a region in which several famous British battles
have been fought. In 1747 Anson defeated a French squadron off the
promontory, a victory for which he was made a peer. It was near
Finisterre, too, that, three months before Trafalgar, Sir Robert
Calder valiantly attacked the far superior French fleet under
Villeneuve and captured two of his ships; and in these waters Sir
Richard Strachan made prizes of the ships under Dumanoir which had
escaped from Trafalgar.
Ferrol is one of the most striking natural harbours in the world.
It is best seen when entered from the Atlantic. Nature has made a
canal in the iron cliffs by cutting a straight slit something like
a mile in length, and through this amazing cleft vessels enter the
noble sheltered basin which forms the harbour. Ferrol has one of the
largest populations of Galicia's towns--over 20,000--and is famous
mostly for its arsenal; the town, indeed, is Galicia's Portsmouth.
Naval officers and cadets and seamen are met everywhere in the
Calle Real and other streets, and splendid views of the harbour
and dockyard are easily obtainable. In these days Ferrol is very
different from the town which Borrow saw, for it was then suffering
from the blight which fell on Spain as the result of Trafalgar.
[Illustration: FERROL, THE SPANISH PORTSMOUTH]
"Grass was growing in the streets, and misery and distress stared me
in the face on every side ..." he wrote. "Only a few ill-paid and
half-starved workmen still linger about.... Half the inhabitants of
Ferrol beg their bread." But Ferrol to-day has a cheerful aspect,
and vast changes are being made with the help of foreign capital and
foreign engineers. Enormous modern machinery plants are being
installed, and there is hope that in no very remote years Spain will
be able to build all her own ships of war. She is exceptionally
fortunate in the lavishness of Nature's provision of safe and
beautiful harbours for her fleet's accommodation. The gigantic and
costly dredgers of the Mersey and the Thames are not needed in the
Galician bays. Ferrol has many attractions in its neighbourhood
for antiquaries, who have found here some of the most interesting
of Galicia's Celtic remains. The district, too, is reminiscent of
St. James, who is credited with the founding of the ex-Colegiata de
Caaveiro, a dozen miles to the east of the arsenal. This building
is one of the great ancient military religious strongholds of the
country, and possesses dark, damp dungeons in which captives were not
able either to lie down or stand upright.
Borrow would be amazed if he could revisit Ferrol and overlook that
arsenal of which he gave such a depressing description. He would
find, it is true, that the Spaniards proceed in the leisurely fashion
of his own generation, because they retain a love of putting off for
accomplishment to-morrow the disagreeable duties of to-day. They
believe in the blessed _mañana_. For a long time there has been at
Ferrol a desultory kind of shipbuilding, and a vessel is to be seen
on which the Spaniards have been at work for fifteen years. She is
still unfinished. Again _mañana_. But new life and energy have been
introduced into the Atlantic arsenal, and under the guidance of
three great British engineering and shipbuilding firms a very large
amount of capital has been invested for the purpose of reconstructing
the arsenal and the Spanish navy. The firms are Sir W. G. Armstrong,
Whitworth & Co., Ltd., Messrs. John Brown & Co., Ltd., and Messrs.
Vickers, Sons & Maxim, Ltd., and a general control is exercised by
the Advisory Committee, who are the technical guarantors of the
Sociedad Española de Construccion Naval, the Spanish company which
has undertaken the work. At present about 2000 workmen are employed,
more than 90 per cent. of whom are Spaniards. The chief engineers of
the undertaking are mostly British. The programme of reconstitution
will extend over seven years, and the total sum which is being spent
is £7,000,000. All the steel which is necessary for this great new
enterprise is being rolled at Bilbao. Three _Dreadnoughts_, somewhat
smaller in size than our own, are being built at Ferrol, the cost of
their construction being included in the £7,000,000.
This Spanish arsenal has an excellent club for artisans, an
institution with a large membership. The club is of a very
complete character, and combines the advantages of an educational
establishment with social enjoyments and sick-pay benefits.
During the Napoleonic wars Ferrol was attacked by Sir James Pulteney,
who in July 1800 sailed from England in command of a secret
expedition of 8000 men. The objective was the coast of France;
but Pulteney, finding the task too big for him, made for Ferrol.
He defeated the Spaniards in two skirmishes and took possession
of the heights above the harbour. Then he suddenly withdrew his
forces, owing, according to one story, to the fact that the enemy
had been greatly strengthened, but in reality, it seems, because of
secret instructions which had been given to him to retire. In 1805,
when Napoleon had thirty-eight French ships of the line and thirty
Spanish, with 170,000 men, almost ready for the invasion of England,
Ferrol was one of the three ports which Spain used for her fleet's
requirements. Just before Trafalgar Villeneuve took refuge in the
port to escape from the British, an act which threw Napoleon into a
transport of fury and made him exclaim bitterly: "All hope is gone!
That Villeneuve, instead of entering the Channel, has taken refuge in
Ferrol! It is all over!"
When Moore had fallen at Corunna and the town had been occupied by
Soult he marched to Ferrol, which he took, with seven ships of the
line and immense quantities of naval stores. The town was held for
several months, during which Soult gave Marshal Ney the task of
fighting in Galicia; but the rugged country and the valour of the
Gallegans were too much for even the "bravest of the brave," and,
believing that he had been deserted by Soult, Ney abandoned Corunna
and Ferrol and marched away from Galicia.
Within convenient access of Ferrol and only two miles from Betanzos
is the strikingly situated town of Puentedeume. Formerly this place
was noted for a bridge which was a mile long and possessed no fewer
than fifty-eight arches; but this was destroyed in 1868, and was
replaced by a modern structure. Betanzos is one of the quaintest and
most beautifully situated towns in Galicia. It is full of historical
charm, and in addition to its old churches possesses the ruins of a
Moorish castle. The town rises from the banks of an inland bay, and
on the journey by road between Corunna and Ferrol the visitor has
an opportunity of seeing Betanzos from all points of view. First he
beholds it from an altitude, nestling snugly in a hollow, then he
passes through its old romantic streets, which are villainously paved
and crooked, and sees the town again from a height as he goes towards
Corunna or Ferrol.
The neighbourhood of Ferrol is to the sportsman one of the most
alluring parts of Galicia, for it abounds in beasts and birds and
fishes. Hawks and eagles frequent the lonely valley of Caaveiro, deer
are numerous, and in the autumn and winter the wild boar is hunted.
Salmon and trout are caught in enormous numbers, and wood-pigeons,
partridges, and other game are very plentiful.
Between Ferrol and Corunna communication is maintained by steamer
and diligence. The sea route is far shorter and easier than the land
journey, the vessels in fair weather making the trip in an hour and
a half. But sometimes for several days together the steamboats cannot
run because of strong winds or rough seas, and when I visited Ferrol
they had been kept in harbour for three days owing to these causes.
This meant that storm-bound travellers who found it imperative
to reach Corunna to embark were forced to take the diligence and
make the long and tedious land journey. To the easy-going visitor,
however, that journey is full of charm and interest, including as it
does Betanzos, and giving an opportunity of inspecting the Castillo
de Moeche, a noble old ruin on the hill-side. There can be seen also
on the roadside, not far from Corunna, a modern mansion in beautiful
grounds, which was built in the hope that the present King of Spain
would take it as a summer residence; but the monarch was not able to
accept the offer.
From Corunna to Vigo the coast is bold and jagged, and though it
does not present the imposing appearance of Gibraltar, in the south
of Spain, or offer the majestic mountains of the east side of the
Peninsula, yet it has in its bays glories and beauties which are not
excelled by any of Spain's other natural attractions. One of those
bays at least, Vigo, will be seen by all visitors who enter Galicia
in Booth liners, and there is danger that they may omit some of the
delights of the northern fjords in favour of a journey down the
Atlantic coast to the point where the river Miño separates Spain from
Portugal.
To the frontier of Portugal there runs a carriage road alongside the
Atlantic, which is irresistible to the motorist, the cyclist, the
rider, and the walker. The scenery is varied and beautiful, beginning
with Vigo and continuing to Guardia. On the one side, when the
southernmost point of Vigo Bay has been passed, the pleasant village
of Ramallosa is reached, with its extensive view across the yellow
sands, and its venerable bridge with a weather-worn shrine in the
middle. Seven miles farther on, and only fourteen from Vigo, is the
little ancient town of Bayona, famous chiefly for its old castle on
the wooded summit of the Atlantic shore.
There is no difficulty in getting permission to inspect this romantic
residence, which has some delightful grounds from which magnificent
views are obtainable. The Atlantic billows sweep up the rocks on the
west side of the estate, and overlooking the sea, on the battlements,
is a curious stone table, with stone seats, in the open air, with a
cross which is visible from a considerable distance over the water.
[Illustration: THE BRIDGE AT RAMALLOSA]
[Illustration: THE SHRINE ON THE BRIDGE]
One of the most beautiful of all modern lighthouses is to be erected
near Bayona. The design takes the form of a colossal figure of the
Virgin, who holds in her left hand a lantern which will be lit by
electricity. Her right hand supports a model of a ship, sheltering
against her bosom--symbol of the protection which her friendly beams
afford to craft at sea. The rocky base of this remarkable structure
will have a number of steps leading from the beach to a terrace
from which the visitor may get some glorious views of land and sea.
The lighthouse will be known as the Virgin of Bayona, and will stand
as a memorial to the creative ability of its designer, an architect
of Madrid named Señor Antonio Palacios.
Still with the refreshing breeze of the Atlantic meeting you--the
ocean so near that the air is salt-laden--the coast journey is
continued to Guardia, once a fortress of importance, but now a ruined
relic; then, Galicia's most southerly point having been reached,
a turn inland is made, and there comes into view the Miño, on the
other side of which is Portugal. The river here is a fine stream, and
there is in the neighbourhood that subtle interest and charm which
characterise all frontiers.
The Miño is skirted until an ancient city perched upon a hill is
seen on the north bank, and on the south another city, battlemented,
romantic, mediæval. The one is Tuy, an ancient Spanish country town;
the other is Valença, an old Portuguese fortress. These frontier
towns have been the scenes of many battles since the days when
Witiza, a Gothic king, lived and ruled in Tuy. Witiza resided there
in 700; a few years later the Moors swept down upon and wrecked the
town; but the Spaniards recovered it, and eventually, in the twelfth
century, built the cathedral which is Tuy's most striking feature.
No visitor can fail to notice the uncommon iron belfry which stands
out against the sky from the surrounding houses, which at this place
seem to be packed exceptionally close together. Tuy has only one
considerable street, called the Alameda, and offering no particular
charm; indeed, the town's greatest attraction is its beautiful
situation and proximity to Portugal.
The two nations, friendly and harmonious, have a joint bridge across
the Miño, and it is a very pleasant little excursion to cross
the river for a peep at Portugal. The bridge is modern and very
long--400 yards. In the centre is a carriage road, above which is the
railway; and on each side of the road is a footpath, from which very
fine views are had of Tuy, Valença, and the river and surrounding
landscape. At Tuy you may listen to the bells of Portugal, and from
the grey walls of Valença fortress you may hearken to the chimes from
the iron belfry on the house-topped summit of the hill on which the
Spanish town is built.
Sentries allow you, being inoffensive visitors, to cross the bridge
unchallenged. The Spanish and Portuguese guards take their duties
easily, and are much less business-like than British or German
troops. They more closely resemble the French in appearance and
conduct. It is different, of course, if one attempts to take a
photograph or make a sketch in the region of a fort. The use of
the camera is not allowed in these places without permission, nor
may drawings or sketches be made. My friend Mr. Frank H. Mason, in
travelling for the purpose of illustrating this book, crossed the
frontier to Valença, wishful from the battlements to sketch Tuy.
Before he could proceed he found it necessary to interview the
officer commanding the Portuguese guard. Permission was readily and
politely given, but while the artist secured the necessary details he
was watched by armed sentries who had been told off for the purpose.
It was a picturesque but unnecessary proceeding, for there does not
appear to be any serious military secret about the defence of either
Tuy or Valença.
The Atlantic coast has been left behind and is out of sight; but
there is now an even more astonishing panorama than the ocean-fringe
itself has offered, for the Miño runs through fertile, striking, and
romantic scenery for many miles, acting as a frontier between Spain
and Portugal. Guillarey, a railway junction near Tuy, enables the
traveller to take train and steam along the bank of one of the most
picturesque iron roads in the world.
Sixty miles away is the town of Orense, and for fifty-five miles of
that distance the railway hugs the bank of the Miño, so closely at
times that there seems to be almost a prospect of the locomotive
and its carriages going into the water. From the windows of the
compartments there is an ever-changing, fascinating scene; now of
the river rushing wildly over boulders, or going smoothly to the
sea; now of vineyard upon vineyard, Spanish and Portuguese, rising
in terraces on the slopes of the hills, and of some old ruin or
towering landmark. At Salvatierra station there are the ruins of an
ancient fort, seemingly on the platform itself; and across the river
is Mongao, a mediæval city, which can be reached by ferry. Hereabouts
is a famous wine-growing district, and so fertile is the country that
it is spoken of as Galicia's granary. The river which is crossed by
the iron bridge at Salvatierra is the Tea, which at this place runs
into the Miño.
The scenery becomes grander and grander until Arbo is passed, and
then, eight miles farther on, at Friera station, Portugal's highest
mountain is seen, the Outeiro Major, with an altitude of nearly 8000
feet, rising beyond the town of Melgaço, situated on its slopes. A
short distance beyond this point the Portuguese frontier, indicated
by a few cottages, is left behind; but the character of the scenery
remains the same as far as Orense.
Before Orense is reached there is a chance of seeing the old and
picturesque town of Ribadavia, where the river Aria, on the banks
of which it stands, joins the Miño. Ribadavia has a population of
5000, and in the convent of Los Dominicos possesses a building which
was at one time a royal palace, though probably a crude one, for it
was occupied by monarchs of Galicia when the country was a separate
kingdom. The town is very quaint, and will form a halting-place for
visitors who like to spend a few hours examining it while awaiting
the return of the train from Orense. That town, however, will offer
more inducement than Ribadavia, especially to those who have made
a particular point of journeying along the frontier and are not
disposed to go beyond.
Orense is a very ancient city, celebrated for its bridge and warm
baths, which for many centuries have been looked upon as marvels.
These baths, or springs, have a temperature of about 150° Fahr.,
and as the water has practically neither taste nor smell and does
not appear to possess any medicinal value, it is used for washing
and all kinds of domestic purposes, even including the cleansing of
slaughtered animals. There are three springs, called Las Burgas, and
they yield about thirty gallons of hot water each minute.
The cathedral is an imposing building, with a very gloomy interior,
and although the structure dates from the sixth century, still it
will scarcely call for more than passing attention from any one
who is not ecclesiologically inclined. There are, however, some
extensive and magnificent cloisters at Orense, which may be viewed
by permission, and there is the bridge. This is a remarkable stone
structure, dating from the thirteenth century, with a length of
more than 1300 feet, and containing seven arches. One of these, the
central, known as the Grand Arch, is 156 feet wide. It is pointed,
and the crown is 135 feet above the bed of the river--a height which
looks very considerable both from the bank of the river and the walls
of the bridge.
The Miño rises rapidly and to a great height, and it was with the
object of safeguarding the bridge against the sudden inundations
that the arch was made so high. The bridge ascends from each end to
something of a point in the centre, and is one of the wonders of
Orense. A stone in the bridge records the interesting fact that that
particular spot is exactly 555 kilometres--nearly 350 miles--from
Madrid. Beyond the springs, the cloisters, the cathedral, and the
bridge, the town has few attractions, but whatever it may lack in the
shape of bricks and stones and mortar is more than counterbalanced by
the glories and the grandeur of the neighbouring scenery.
[Illustration: OXEN TOWING A BROKEN-DOWN MOTOR-BUS]
[Illustration: PONTEVEDRA BY NIGHT: THE BULL-RING]