Astorga—The Inn—The Maragatos—The Habits of the Maragatos—The Statue.
We went to a posada in the suburbs, the only one, indeed, which the place
afforded. The courtyard was full of arrieros and carriers, brawling
loudly; the master of the house was fighting with two of his customers,
and universal confusion reigned around. As I dismounted I received the
contents of a wineglass in my face, of which greeting, as it was probably
intended for another, I took no notice. Antonio, however, was not so
patient, for on being struck with a cudgel, he instantly returned the
salute with his whip, scarifying the countenance of a carman. In my
endeavours to separate these two antagonists, my horse broke loose, and
rushing amongst the promiscuous crowd, overturned several individuals and
committed no little damage. It was a long time before peace was
restored: at last we were shown to a tolerably decent chamber. We had,
however, no sooner taken possession of it, than the waggon from Madrid
arrived on its way to Coruña, filled with dusty travellers, consisting of
women, children, invalid officers and the like. We were now forthwith
dislodged, and our baggage flung into the yard. On our complaining of
this treatment, we were told that we were two vagabonds whom nobody knew;
who had come without an arriero, and had already set the whole house in
confusion. As a great favour, however, we were at length permitted to
take up our abode in a ruinous building down the yard, adjoining the
stable, and filled with rats and vermin. Here there was an old bed with
a tester, and with this wretched accommodation we were glad to content
ourselves, for I could proceed no farther, and was burnt with fever. The
heat of the place was intolerable, and I sat on the staircase with my
head between my hands, gasping for breath: soon appeared Antonio with
vinegar and water, which I drank and felt relieved.
We continued in this suburb three days, during the greatest part of which
time I was stretched on the tester bed. I once or twice contrived to
make my way into the town, but found no bookseller, nor any person
willing to undertake the charge of disposing of my Testaments. The
people were brutal, stupid, and uncivil, and I returned to my tester bed
fatigued and dispirited. Here I lay listening from time to time to the
sweet chimes which rang from the clock of the old cathedral. The master
of the house never came near me, nor indeed, once inquired about me.
Beneath the care of Antonio, however, I speedily waxed stronger. “_Mon
maître_,” said he to me one evening, “I see you are better; let us quit
this bad town and worse posada to-morrow morning. _Allons_, _mon
maitre_! _Il est temps de nous mettre en chemin pour Lugo et Galice_.”
Before proceeding, however, to narrate what befell us in this journey to
Lugo and Galicia, it will perhaps not be amiss to say a few words
concerning Astorga and its vicinity. It is a walled town, containing
about five or six thousand inhabitants, with a cathedral and college,
which last is, however, at present deserted. It is situated on the
confines, and may be called the capital of a tract of land called the
country of the Maragatos, which occupies about three square leagues, and
has for its north-western boundary a mountain called Telleno, the
loftiest of a chain of hills which have their origin near the mouth of
the river Minho, and are connected with the immense range which
constitutes the frontier of the Asturias and Guipuscoa.
The land is ungrateful and barren, and niggardly repays the toil of the
cultivator, being for the most part rocky, with a slight sprinkling of
red brick earth.
The Maragatos are perhaps the most singular caste to be found amongst the
chequered population of Spain. They have their own peculiar customs and
dress, and never intermarry with the Spaniards. Their name is a clue to
their origin, as it signifies, “Moorish Goths,” and at the present day
their garb differs but little from that of the Moors of Barbary, as it
consists of a long tight jacket, secured at the waist by a broad girdle,
loose short trousers which terminate at the knee, and boots and gaiters.
Their heads are shaven, a slight fringe of hair being only left at the
lower part. If they wore the turban or barret, they could scarcely be
distinguished from the Moors in dress, but in lieu thereof they wear the
sombrero, or broad slouching hat of Spain. There can be little doubt
that they are a remnant of those Goths who sided with the Moors on their
invasion of Spain, and who adopted their religion, customs, and manner of
dress, which, with the exception of the first, are still to a
considerable degree retained by them. It is, however, evident that their
blood has at no time mingled with that of the wild children of the
desert, for scarcely amongst the hills of Norway would you find figures
and faces more essentially Gothic than those of the Maragatos. They are
strong athletic men, but loutish and heavy, and their features, though
for the most part well formed, are vacant and devoid of expression. They
are slow and plain of speech, and those eloquent and imaginative sallies
so common in the conversation of other Spaniards, seldom or never escape
them; they have, moreover, a coarse thick pronunciation, and when you
hear them speak, you almost imagine that it is some German or English
peasant attempting to express himself in the language of the Peninsula.
They are constitutionally phlegmatic, and it is very difficult to arouse
their anger; but they are dangerous and desperate when once incensed; and
a person who knew them well, told me that he would rather face ten
Valencians, people infamous for their ferocity and blood-thirstiness,
than confront one angry Maragato, sluggish and stupid though he be on
other occasions.
The men scarcely ever occupy themselves in husbandry, which they abandon
to the women, who plough the flinty fields and gather in the scanty
harvests. Their husbands and sons are far differently employed: for they
are a nation of arrieros or carriers, and almost esteem it a disgrace to
follow any other profession. On every road of Spain, particularly those
north of the mountains which divide the two Castiles, may be seen gangs
of fives and sixes of these people lolling or sleeping beneath the
broiling sun, on gigantic and heavily laden mutes and mules. In a word,
almost the entire commerce of nearly one half of Spain passes through the
hands of the Maragatos, whose fidelity to their trust is such, that no
one accustomed to employ them would hesitate to confide to them the
transport of a ton of treasure from the sea of Biscay to Madrid; knowing
well that it would not be their fault were it not delivered safe and
undiminished, even of a grain, and that bold must be the thieves who
would seek to wrest it from the far feared Maragatos, who would cling to
it whilst they could stand, and would cover it with their bodies when
they fell in the act of loading or discharging their long carbines.
But they are far from being disinterested, and if they are the most
trustworthy of all the arrieros of Spain, they in general demand for the
transport of articles a sum at least double to what others of the trade
would esteem a reasonable recompense: by this means they accumulate large
sums of money, notwithstanding that they indulge themselves in far
superior fare to that which contents in general the parsimonious
Spaniard;—another argument in favour of their pure Gothic descent; for
the Maragatos, like true men of the north, delight in swilling liquors
and battening upon gross and luscious meats, which help to swell out
their tall and goodly figures. Many of them have died possessed of
considerable riches, part of which they have not unfrequently bequeathed
to the erection or embellishment of religious houses.
On the east end of the cathedral of Astorga, which towers over the lofty
and precipitous wall, a colossal figure of lead may be seen on the roof.
It is the statue of a Maragato carrier who endowed the cathedral with a
large sum. He is in his national dress, but his head is averted from the
lands of his fathers, and whilst he waves in his hand a species of flag,
he seems to be summoning his race from their unfruitful region to other
climes, where a richer field is open to their industry and enterprise.
I spoke to several of these men respecting the all-important subject of
religion; but I found “their hearts gross, and their ears dull of
hearing, and their eyes closed.” There was one in particular to whom I
showed the New Testament, and whom I addressed for a considerable time.
He listened or seemed to listen patiently, taking occasionally copious
draughts from an immense jug of whitish wine which stood between his
knees. After I had concluded he said, “To-morrow I set out for Lugo,
whither, I am told, yourself are going. If you wish to send your chest,
I have no objection to take it at so much (naming an extravagant price).
As for what you have told me, I understand little of it, and believe not
a word of it; but in respect to the books which you have shown me, I will
take three or four. I shall not read them, it is true, but I have no
doubt that I can sell them at a higher price than you demand.”
So much for the Maragatos.