Boatmen of the Tagus—Dangers of the Stream—Aldea Gallega—The
Hostelry—Robbers—Sabocha—Adventure of a Muleteer—Estalagem de Ladrões—Don
Geronimo—Vendas Novas—Royal Residence—Swine of the Alemtejo—Monte
Moro—Swayne Vonved—Singular Goatherd—Children of the Fields—Infidels and
Sadducees.
On the afternoon of the 6th of December I set out for Evora, accompanied
by my servant. I had been informed that the tide would serve for the
regular passage-boats, or felouks, as they are called, at about four
o’clock; but on reaching the side of the Tagus opposite to Aldea Gallega,
between which place and Lisbon the boats ply, I found that the tide would
not permit them to start before eight o’clock. Had I waited for them I
should have probably landed at Aldea Gallega about midnight, and I felt
little inclination to make my _entrée_ in the Alemtejo at that hour;
therefore, as I saw small boats which can push off at any time lying near
in abundance, I determined upon hiring one of them for the passage,
though the expense would be thus considerably increased. I soon agreed
with a wild-looking lad, who told me that he was in part owner of one of
the boats, to take me over. I was not aware of the danger in crossing
the Tagus at its broadest part, which is opposite Aldea Gallega, at any
time, but especially at close of day in the winter season, or I should
certainly not have ventured. The lad and his comrade, a
miserable-looking object, whose only clothing, notwithstanding the
season, was a tattered jerkin and trousers, rowed until we had advanced
about half a mile from the land; they then set up a large sail, and the
lad, who seemed to direct everything, and to be the principal, took the
helm and steered. The evening was now setting in; the sun was not far
from its bourne in the horizon; the air was very cold, the wind was
rising, and the waves of the noble Tagus began to be crested with foam.
I told the boy that it was scarcely possible for the boat to carry so
much sail without upsetting, upon which he laughed, and began to gabble
in a most incoherent manner. He had the most harsh and rapid
articulation that has ever come under my observation in any human being;
it was the scream of the hyena blended with the bark of the terrier,
though it was by no means an index of his disposition, which I soon found
to be light, merry, and anything but malevolent; for when I, in order to
show him that I cared little about him, began to hum “_Eu que sou
contrabandista_,” {18} he laughed heartily, and said, clapping me on the
shoulder, that he would not drown us if he could help it. The other poor
fellow seemed by no means averse to go to the bottom: he sat at the fore
part of the boat, looking the image of famine, and only smiled when the
waters broke over the weather side and soaked his scanty habiliments. In
a little time I had made up my mind that our last hour was come; the wind
was getting higher, the short dangerous waves were more foamy, the boat
was frequently on its beam, and the water came over the lee side in
torrents. But still the wild lad at the helm held on, laughing and
chattering, and occasionally yelling out part of the Miguelite air,
“_Quando el Rey chegou_,” {19} the singing of which in Lisbon is
imprisonment.
The stream was against us, but the wind was in our favour, and we sprang
along at a wonderful rate, and I saw that our only chance of escape was
in speedily passing the farther bank of the Tagus, where the bight or bay
at the extremity of which stands Aldea Gallega commences, for we should
not then have to battle with the waves of the stream, which the adverse
wind lashed into fury. It was the will of the Almighty to permit us
speedily to gain this shelter, but not before the boat was nearly filled
with water, and we were all wet to the skin. At about seven o’clock in
the evening we reached Aldea Gallega, shivering with cold and in a most
deplorable plight.
Aldea Gallega, or the Galician Village (for the two words are Spanish,
and have that signification), is a place containing, I should think,
about four thousand inhabitants. It was pitchy dark when we landed, but
rockets soon began to fly about in all directions, illuming the air far
and wide. As we passed along the dirty unpaved street which leads to the
_largo_, or square, in which the inn is situated, a horrible uproar of
drums and voices assailed our ears. On inquiring the cause of all this
bustle, I was informed that it was the eve of the Conception of the
Virgin.
As it was not the custom of the people at the inn to furnish provisions
for the guests, I wandered about in search of food; and at last, seeing
some soldiers eating and drinking in a species of wine-house, I went in
and asked the people to let me have some supper, and in a short time they
furnished me with a tolerable meal, for which, however, they charged
three crowns.
Having engaged with a person for mules to carry us to Evora, which were
to be ready at five next morning, I soon retired to bed, my servant
sleeping in the same apartment, which was the only one in the house
vacant. I closed not my eyes during the whole night. Beneath us was a
stable, in which some _almocreves_, or carriers, slept with their mules;
at our back, in the yard, was a pigsty. How could I sleep? The hogs
grunted, the mules screamed, and the _almocreves_ snored most horribly.
I heard the village clock strike the hours until midnight, and from
midnight till four in the morning, when I sprang up and began to dress,
and despatched my servant to hasten the man with the mules, for I was
heartily tired of the place and wanted to leave it. An old man, bony and
hale, accompanied by a bare-footed lad, brought the beasts, which were
tolerably good. He was the proprietor of them, and intended, with the
lad, who was his nephew, to accompany us to Evora.
When we started the moon was shining brightly, and the morning was
piercingly cold. We soon entered on a sandy hollow way, emerging from
which we passed by a strange-looking and large edifice, standing on a
high bleak sandhill on our left. We were speedily overtaken by five or
six men on horseback, riding at a rapid pace, each with a long gun slung
at his saddle, the muzzle depending about two feet below the horse’s
belly. I inquired of the old man what was the reason of this warlike
array. He answered, that the roads were very bad (meaning that they
abounded with robbers), and that they went armed in this manner for their
defence; they soon turned off to the right towards Palmella.
We reached a sandy plain studded with stunted pine; the road was little
more than a footpath, and as we proceeded the trees thickened and became
a wood, which extended for two leagues, with clear spaces at intervals,
in which herds of cattle and sheep were feeding; the bells attached to
their necks were ringing lowly and monotonously. The sun was just
beginning to show itself; but the morning was misty and dreary, which,
together with the aspect of desolation which the country exhibited, had
an unfavourable effect on my spirits. I got down and walked, entering
into conversation with the old man. He seemed to have but one theme,
“the robbers,” and the atrocities they were in the habit of practising in
the very spots we were passing. The tales he told were truly horrible,
and to avoid them I mounted again, and rode on considerably in front.
In about an hour and a half we emerged from the forest, and entered upon
a savage, wild, broken ground, covered with _mato_, or brushwood. The
mules stopped to drink at a shallow pool, and on looking to the right I
saw a ruined wall. This, the guide informed me, was the remains of
Vendas Velhas, or the Old Inn, formerly the haunt of the celebrated
robber Sabocha. This Sabocha, it seems, had, some sixteen years ago, a
band of about forty ruffians at his command, who infested these wilds,
and supported themselves by plunder. For a considerable time Sabocha
pursued his atrocious trade unsuspected, and many an unfortunate
traveller was murdered in the dead of night at the solitary inn by the
woodside which he kept; indeed, a more fit situation for plunder and
murder I never saw. The gang were in the habit of watering their horses
at the pool, and perhaps of washing therein their hands stained with the
blood of their victims. The lieutenant of the troop was the brother of
Sabocha, a fellow of great strength and ferocity, particularly famous for
the skill he possessed in darting a long knife, with which he was in the
habit of transfixing his opponents. Sabocha’s connexion with the gang at
length became known, and he fled, with the greater part of his
associates, across the Tagus to the northern provinces. Himself and his
brothers eventually lost their lives on the road to Coimbra, in an
engagement with the military. His house was razed by order of the
government.
The ruins are still frequently visited by banditti, who eat and drink
amidst them, and look out for prey, as the place commands a view of the
road. The old man assured me, that about two months previous, on
returning to Aldea Gallega with his mules from accompanying some
travellers, he had been knocked down, stripped naked, and all his money
taken from him, by a fellow who he believed came from this murderers’
nest. He said that he was an exceedingly powerful young man, with
immense moustaches and whiskers, and was armed with an _espingarda_, or
musket. About ten days subsequently he saw the robber at Vendas Novas,
where we should pass the night. The fellow on recognizing him took him
aside, and, with horrid imprecations, threatened that he should never be
permitted to return home if he attempted to discover him; he therefore
held his peace, as there was little to be gained and everything to be
risked in apprehending him, as he would have been speedily set at liberty
for want of evidence to criminate him, and then he would not have failed
to have had his revenge, or would have been anticipated therein by his
comrades.
I dismounted and went up to the place, and saw the vestiges of a fire and
a broken bottle. The sons of plunder had been there very lately. I left
a New Testament and some tracts amongst the ruins, and hastened away.
The sun had dispelled the mists and was beaming very hot. We rode on for
about an hour, when I heard the neighing of a horse in our rear, and our
guide said there was a party of horsemen behind; our mules were good, and
they did not overtake us for at least twenty minutes. The headmost rider
was a gentleman in a fashionable travelling dress; a little way behind
were an officer, two soldiers, and a boy in livery. I heard the
principal horseman, on overtaking my servant, inquiring who I was, and
whether French or English. He was told I was an English gentleman,
travelling. He then asked whether I understood Portuguese; the man said
I understood it, but he believed that I spoke French and Italian better.
The gentleman then spurred on his horse, and accosted me, not in
Portuguese, nor in French or Italian, but in the purest English that I
ever heard spoken by a foreigner; it had, indeed, nothing of foreign
accent or pronunciation in it; and had I not known, by the countenance of
the speaker, that he was no Englishman (for there is a peculiarity in the
countenance, as everybody knows, which, though it cannot be described, is
sure to betray the Englishman), I should have concluded that I was in
company with a countryman. We continued discoursing until we arrived at
Pegões.
Pegões consists of about two or three houses and an inn; there is
likewise a species of barrack, where half a dozen soldiers are stationed.
In the whole of Portugal there is no place of worse reputation, and the
inn is nicknamed _Estalagem de Ladrões_, or the hostelry of thieves; for
it is there that the banditti of the wilderness, which extends around it
on every side for leagues, are in the habit of coming and spending the
money, the fruits of their criminal daring; there they dance and sing,
eat fricasseed rabbits and olives, and drink the muddy but strong wine of
the Alemtejo. An enormous fire, fed by the trunk of a cork-tree, was
blazing in a niche on the left hand on entering the spacious kitchen.
Close by it, seething, were several large jars, which emitted no
disagreeable odour, and reminded me that I had not broken my fast,
although it was now nearly one o’clock, and I had ridden five leagues.
Several wild-looking men, who, if they were not banditti, might easily be
mistaken for such, were seated on logs about the fire. I asked them some
unimportant questions, to which they replied with readiness and civility,
and one of them, who said he could read, accepted a tract which I offered
him.
My new friend, who had been bespeaking dinner, or rather breakfast, now,
with great civility, invited me to partake of it, and at the same time
introduced me to the officer who accompanied him, and who was his
brother, and also spoke English, though not so well as himself. I found
I had become acquainted with Don {25a} Geronimo Jozé d’Azveto, secretary
to the government at Evora; his brother belonged to a regiment of
hussars, whose head-quarters were at Evora, but which had outlying
parties along the road,—for example, the place where we were stopping.
[Picture: Roman military monument showing the rabbit as a Spanish device]
Rabbits at Pegões {25b} seem to be a standard article of food, being
produced in abundance on the moors around. We had one fried, the gravy
of which was delicious, and afterwards a roasted one, which was brought
up on a dish entire; the hostess, having first washed her hands,
proceeded to tear the animal to pieces, which having accomplished, she
poured over the fragments a sweet sauce. I ate heartily of both dishes,
particularly of the last; owing, perhaps, to the novel and curious manner
in which it was served up. Excellent figs, from the Algarves, and
apples, concluded our repast, which we ate in a little side room with a
mud floor, which sent such a piercing chill into my system, as prevented
me from deriving that pleasure from my fare and my agreeable companions
that I should have otherwise experienced.
Don Geronimo had been educated in England, in which country he passed his
boyhood, which in a certain degree accounted for his proficiency in the
English language, the idiom and pronunciation of which can only be
acquired by residing in the country at that period of one’s life. He had
also fled thither shortly after the usurpation of the throne of Portugal
by Don Miguel, and from thence had departed to the Brazils, where he had
devoted himself to the service of Don Pedro, and had followed him in the
expedition which terminated in the downfall of the usurper, and the
establishment of the constitutional government in Portugal. Our
conversation rolled chiefly on literary and political subjects, and my
acquaintance with the writings of the most celebrated authors of Portugal
was hailed with surprise and delight; for nothing is more gratifying to a
Portuguese than to observe a foreigner taking an interest in the
literature of his nation, of which, in many respects, he is justly proud.
At about two o’clock we were once more in the saddle, and pursued our way
in company, through a country exactly resembling that which we had
previously been traversing, rugged and broken, with here and there a
clump of pines. The afternoon was exceedingly fine, and the bright rays
of the sun relieved the desolation of the scene. Having advanced about
two leagues, we caught sight of a large edifice towering majestically in
the distance, which I learnt was a royal palace standing at the farther
extremity of Vendas Novas, the village in which we were to pass the
night; it was considerably more than a league from us, yet, seen through
the clear transparent atmosphere of Portugal, it appeared much nearer.
Before reaching it we passed by a stone cross, on the pedestal of which
was an inscription commemorating a horrible murder of a native of Lisbon,
which had occurred on that spot; it looked ancient, and was covered with
moss, and the greater part of the inscription was illegible—at least it
was to me, who could not bestow much time on its deciphering. Having
arrived at Vendas Novas, and bespoken supper, my new friend and myself
strolled forth to view the palace. It was built by the late king of
Portugal, and presents little that is remarkable in its exterior; it is a
long edifice with wings, and is only two stories high, though it can be
seen afar off, from being situated on elevated ground; it has fifteen
windows in the upper, and twelve in the lower story, with a
paltry-looking door, something like that of a barn, to which you ascend
by one single step. The interior corresponds with the exterior, offering
nothing which can gratify curiosity, if we except the kitchens, which are
indeed magnificent, and so large that food enough might be cooked in
them, at one time, to serve as a repast for all the inhabitants of the
Alemtejo.
I passed the night with great comfort in a clean bed, remote from all
those noises so rife in a Portuguese inn, and the next morning at six we
again set out on our journey, which we hoped to terminate before sunset,
as Evora is but ten leagues from Vendas Novas. The preceding morning had
been cold, but the present one was far colder—so much so, that just
before sunrise I could no longer support it on horseback, and therefore,
dismounting, ran and walked until we reached a few houses at the
termination of these desolate moors. It was in one of these houses that
the commissioners of Don Pedro and Miguel met, {28} and it was there
agreed that the latter should resign the crown in favour of Dona Maria,
for Evora was the last stronghold of the usurper, and the moors of the
Alemtejo the last area of the combats which so long agitated unhappy
Portugal. I therefore gazed on the miserable huts with considerable
interest, and did not fail to scatter in the neighbourhood several of the
precious little tracts with which, together with a small quantity of
Testaments, my carpet-bag was provided.
The country began to improve; the savage heaths were left behind, and we
saw hills and dales, cork-trees, and _azinheiras_, on the last of which
trees grows that kind of sweet acorn called _bolotas_, which is pleasant
as a chestnut, and which supplies in winter the principal food on which
the numerous swine of the Alemtejo subsist. Gallant swine they are, with
short legs and portly bodies of a black or dark red colour; and for the
excellence of their flesh I can vouch, having frequently luxuriated upon
it in the course of my wanderings in this province; the _lombo_, or loin,
when broiled on the live embers, is delicious, especially when eaten with
olives.
We were now in sight of Monte Moro, which, as the name denotes, was once
a fortress of the Moors. It is a high steep hill, on the summit and
sides of which are ruined walls and towers. At its western side is a
deep ravine or valley, through which a small stream rushes, traversed by
a stone bridge; farther down there is a ford, over which we passed and
ascended to the town, which, commencing near the northern base, passes
over the lower ridge towards the north-east. The town is exceedingly
picturesque, and many of the houses are very ancient, and built in the
Moorish fashion. I wished much to examine the relics of Moorish sway on
the upper part of the mountain, but time pressed, and the short period of
our stay at this place did not permit me to gratify my inclination.
Monte Moro is the head of a range of hills which cross this part of the
Alemtejo, and from hence they fork east and south-east, towards the
former of which directions lies the direct road to Elvas, Badajoz, and
Madrid; and towards the latter that to Evora. A beautiful mountain,
covered to the top with cork-trees, is the third of the chain which
skirts the way in the direction of Elvas. It is called Monte Almo; a
brook brawls at its base, and as I passed it the sun was shining
gloriously on the green herbage, on which flocks of goats were feeding,
with their bells ringing merrily, so that the _tout ensemble_ resembled a
fairy scene; and that nothing might be wanted to complete the picture, I
here met a man, a goatherd, beneath an _azinheira_, whose appearance
recalled to my mind the Brute Carle, mentioned in the Danish ballad of
Swayne Vonved:—{29}
“A wild swine on his shoulders he kept,
And upon his bosom a black bear slept;
And about his fingers, with hair o’erhung,
The squirrel sported, and weasel clung.”
Upon the shoulder of the goatherd was a beast, which he told me was a
_lontra_, or otter, which he had lately caught in the neighbouring brook;
it had a string round its neck, which was attached to his arm. At his
left side was a bag, from the top of which peered the heads of two or
three singular-looking animals; and at his right was squatted the sullen
cub of a wolf, which he was endeavouring to tame. His whole appearance
was to the last degree savage and wild. After a little conversation,
such as those who meet on the road frequently hold, I asked him if he
could read, but he made me no answer. I then inquired if he knew
anything of God or Jesus Christ; he looked me fixedly in the face for a
moment, and then turned his countenance towards the sun, which was
beginning to sink in the west, nodded to it, and then again looked
fixedly upon me. I believe that I understood the mute reply, which
probably was, that it was God who made that glorious light which illumes
and gladdens all creation; and, gratified with that belief, I left him
and hastened after my companions, who were by this time a considerable
way in advance.
I have always found in the disposition of the children of the fields a
more determined tendency to religion and piety than amongst the
inhabitants of towns and cities, and the reason is obvious—they are less
acquainted with the works of man’s hands than with those of God; their
occupations, too, which are simple, and requiring less of ingenuity and
skill than those which engage the attention of the other portion of their
fellow-creatures, are less favourable to the engendering of self-conceit
and self-sufficiency, so utterly at variance with that lowliness of
spirit which constitutes the best foundation of piety. The sneerers and
scoffers at religion do not spring from amongst the simple children of
nature, but are the excrescences of over-wrought refinement; and though
their baneful influence has indeed penetrated to the country and
corrupted man there, the source and fountain-head was amongst crowded
houses, where nature is scarcely known. I am not one of those who look
for perfection amongst the rural population of any country—perfection is
not to be found amongst the children of the fall, wherever their abodes
may happen to be; but, until the heart discredits the existence of a God,
there is still hope for the soul of the possessor, however stained with
crime he may be, for even Simon the magician was converted. But when the
heart is once steeled with infidelity, infidelity confirmed by carnal
wisdom, an exuberance of the grace of God is required to melt it, which
is seldom manifested; for we read in the blessed book that the Pharisee
and the wizard became receptacles of grace, but where is there mention
made of the conversion of the sneering Sadducee, and is the modern
infidel aught but a Sadducee of later date?
It was dark night before we reached Evora, and having taken leave of my
friends, who kindly requested me to consider their house my home, I and
my servant went to the Largo de San Francisco, in which, the muleteer
informed me, was the best hostelry of the town. We rode into the
kitchen, at the extreme end of which was the stable, as is customary in
Portugal. The house was kept by an aged gypsy-like female and her
daughter, a fine blooming girl about eighteen years of age. The house
was large. In the upper story was a very long room, like a granary,
which extended nearly the whole length of the house; the farther part was
partitioned off, and formed a chamber tolerably comfortable, but very
cold; and the floor was of tiles, as was also that of the large room, in
which the muleteers were accustomed to sleep on the furniture of the
mules. After supper I went to bed, and, having offered up my devotions
to Him who had protected me through a dangerous journey, I slept soundly
till the morning.