Vexatious Delays—Drunken Driver—The Murdered Mule—The
Lamentation—Adventure on the Heath—Fear of Darkness—Portuguese
Fidalgo—The Escort—Return to Lisbon.
I rose at four, and after having taken some refreshment, I descended and
found the strange man and his wife sleeping in the chimney corner by the
fire, which was still burning. They soon awoke, and began preparing
their breakfast, which consisted of salt _sardinhas_, broiled upon the
embers. In the mean time the woman sang snatches of the beautiful hymn,
very common in Spain, which commences thus:—
“Once of old upon a mountain, shepherds overcome with sleep,
Near to Bethlehem’s holy tower, kept at dead of night their sheep;
Round about the trunk they nodded of a huge ignited oak,
Whence the crackling flame ascending bright and clear the darkness
broke.”
On hearing that I was about to depart, she said, “You shall have some of
my husband’s rosemary, which will keep you from danger, and prevent any
misfortune occurring.” I was foolish enough to permit her to put some of
it in my hat; and, the man having by this time arrived with his mules, I
bade farewell to my friendly hostesses, and entered the chaise with my
servant.
I remarked at the time that the mules which drew us were the finest I had
ever seen; the largest could be little short of sixteen hands high; and
the fellow told me in his bad French that he loved them better than his
wife and children. We turned round the corner of the convent, and
proceeded down the street which leads to the south-western gate. The
driver now stopped before the door of a large house, and, having
alighted, said that it was yet very early, and that he was afraid to
venture forth, as it was very probable we should be robbed, and himself
murdered, as the robbers who resided in the town would be apprehensive of
his discovering them, but that the family who lived in this house were
going to Lisbon, and would depart in about a quarter of an hour, when we
might avail ourselves of an escort of soldiers which they would take with
them, and in their company we should run no danger. I told him I had no
fear, and commanded him to drive on; but he said he would not, and left
us in the street. We waited an hour, when two carriages came to the door
of the house; but it seems the family were not yet ready, whereupon the
coachman likewise got down, and went away. At the expiration of about
half an hour the family came out, and when their luggage had been
arranged they called for the coachman, but he was nowhere to be found.
Search was made for him, but ineffectually, and an hour more was spent
before another driver could be procured; but the escort had not yet made
its appearance, and it was not before a servant had been twice despatched
to the barracks that it arrived. At last everything was ready, and they
drove off.
All this time I had seen nothing of our own coachman, and I fully
expected that he had abandoned us altogether. In a few minutes I saw him
staggering up the street in a state of intoxication, attempting to sing
the _Marseillois_ hymn. {50} I said nothing to him, but sat observing
him. He stood for some time staring at the mules, and talking incoherent
nonsense in French. At last he said, “I am not so drunk but I can ride,”
and proceeded to lead his mules towards the gate. When out of the town
he made several ineffectual attempts to mount the smallest mule, which
bore the saddle; he at length succeeded, and instantly commenced spurring
at a furious rate down the road. We arrived at a place where a narrow
rocky path branched off, by taking which we should avoid a considerable
circuit round the city wall, which otherwise it would be necessary to
make before we could reach the road to Lisbon, which lay at the
north-east. He now said, “I shall take this path, for by so doing we
shall overtake the family in a minute;” so into the path we went. It was
scarcely wide enough to admit the carriage, and exceedingly steep and
broken. We proceeded, ascending and descending; the wheels cracked, and
the motion was so violent that we were in danger of being cast out as
from a sling. I saw that if we remained in the carriage it must be
broken in pieces, as our weight must ensure its destruction. I called to
him in Portuguese to stop, but he flogged and spurred the beasts the
more. My man now entreated me for God’s sake to speak to him in French,
for if anything would pacify him that would. I did so, and entreated him
to let us dismount and walk till we had cleared this dangerous way. The
result justified Antonio’s anticipation. He instantly stopped, and said,
“Sir, you are master; you have only to command, and I shall obey.” We
dismounted, and walked on till we reached the great road, when we once
more seated ourselves.
The family were about a quarter of a mile in advance, and we were no
sooner reseated than he lashed the mules into full gallop, for the
purpose of overtaking it. His cloak had fallen from his shoulder, and,
in endeavouring to readjust it, he dropped the string from his hand by
which he guided the large mule: it became entangled in the legs of the
poor animal, which fell heavily on its neck; it struggled for a moment,
and then lay stretched across the way, the shafts over its body. I was
pitched forward into the dirt, and the drunken driver fell upon the
murdered mule.
I was in a great rage, and cried, “You drunken renegade, who are ashamed
to speak the language of your own country, you have broken the staff of
your existence, and may now starve.” “_Paciencia_” said he, and began
kicking the head of the mule, in order to make it rise; but I pushed him
down, and taking his knife, which had fallen from his pocket, cut the
bands by which it was attached to the carriage, but life had fled, and
the film of death had begun to cover its eyes.
The fellow, in the recklessness of intoxication, seemed at first disposed
to make light of his loss, saying, “The mule is dead; it was God’s will
that she should die; what more can be said? _Paciencia_.” Meanwhile, I
despatched Antonio to the town, for the purpose of hiring mules, and,
having taken my baggage from the chaise, waited on the road-side until he
should arrive.
The fumes of the liquor began now to depart from the fellow’s brain; he
clasped his hands, and exclaimed, “Blessed Virgin, what is to become of
me? How am I to support myself? Where am I to get another mule? For my
mule—my best mule—is dead: she fell upon the road, and died of a sudden!
I have been in France, and in other countries, and have seen beasts of
all kinds, but such a mule as that I have never seen; but she is dead—my
mule is dead: she fell upon the road, and died of a sudden!” He
continued in this strain for a considerable time; and the burden of his
lamentation was always, “My mule is dead: she fell upon the road, and
died of a sudden.” At length he took the collar from the creature’s
neck, and put it upon the other, which, with some difficulty, he placed
in the shafts.
A beautiful boy of about thirteen now came from the direction of the
town, running along the road with the velocity of a hare: he stopped
before the dead mule, and burst into tears. It was the man’s son, who
had heard of the accident from Antonio. This was too much for the poor
fellow; he ran up to the boy, and said, “Don’t cry. Our bread is gone,
but it is God’s will; the mule is dead!” He then flung himself on the
ground, uttering fearful cries. “I could have borne my loss,” said he,
“but when I saw my child cry, I became a fool.” I gave him two or three
crowns, and added some words of comfort; assuring him I had no doubt
that, if he abandoned drink, the Almighty God would take compassion on
him and repair his loss. At length he became more composed, and, placing
my baggage in the chaise, we returned to the town, where I found two
excellent riding mules awaiting my arrival at the inn. I did not see the
Spanish woman, or I should have told her of the little efficacy of
rosemary in this instance.
I have known several drunkards amongst the Portuguese, but, without one
exception, they have been individuals who, having travelled abroad, like
this fellow, have returned with a contempt for their own country, and
polluted with the worst vices of the lands which they have visited.
I would strongly advise any of my countrymen who may chance to read these
lines, that, if their fate lead them into Spain or Portugal, they avoid
hiring as domestics, or being connected with, individuals of the lower
classes who speak any other language than their own, as the probability
is that they are heartless thieves and drunkards. These gentry are
invariably saying all they can in dispraise of their native land; and it
is my opinion, grounded upon experience, that an individual who is
capable of such baseness would not hesitate at the perpetration of any
villany, for next to the love of God, the love of country is the best
preventive of crime. He who is proud of his country will be particularly
cautious not to do anything which is calculated to disgrace it.
We now journeyed towards Lisbon, and reached Monte Moro about two
o’clock. After taking such refreshment as the place afforded, we pursued
our way till we were within a quarter of a league of the huts which stand
on the edge of the savage wilderness we had before crossed. Here we were
overtaken by a horseman; he was a powerful, middle-sized man, and was
mounted on a noble Spanish horse. He had a broad, slouching _sombrero_
on his head, and wore a jerkin of blue cloth, with large bosses of silver
for buttons, and clasps of the same metal; he had breeches of yellow
leather, and immense jack-boots: at his saddle was slung a formidable
gun. He inquired if I intended to pass the night at Vendas Novas, and on
my replying in the affirmative, he said that he would avail himself of
our company. He now looked towards the sun, whose disk was rapidly
sinking beneath the horizon, and entreated us to spur on and make the
most of its light, for that the moor was a horrible place in the dusk.
He placed himself at our head, and we trotted briskly on, the boy, or
muleteer, who attended us running behind without exhibiting the slightest
symptom of fatigue.
We entered upon the moor, and had advanced about a mile when dark night
fell around us. We were in a wild path, with high brushwood on either
side, when the rider said that he could not confront the darkness, and
begged me to ride on before, and he would follow after: I could hear him
trembling. I asked the reason of his terror, and he replied, that at one
time darkness was the same thing to him as day, but that of late years he
dreaded it, especially in wild places. I complied with his request, but
I was ignorant of the way, and, as I could scarcely see my hand, was
continually going wrong. This made the man impatient, and he again
placed himself at our head. We proceeded so for a considerable way, when
he again stopped, and said that the power of the darkness was too much
for him. His horse seemed to be infected with the same panic, for it
shook in every limb. I now told him to call on the name of the Lord
Jesus, who was able to turn the darkness into light; but he gave a
terrible shout, and, brandishing his gun aloft, discharged it in the air.
His horse sprang forward at full speed, and my mule, which was one of the
swiftest of its kind, took fright and followed at the heels of the
charger. Antonio and the boy were left behind. On we flew like a
whirlwind, the hoofs of the animals illuming the path with the sparks of
fire they struck from the stones. I knew not whither we were going, but
the dumb creatures were acquainted with the way, and soon brought us to
Vendas Novas, where we were rejoined by our companions.
I thought this man was a coward, but I did him injustice, for during the
day he was as brave as a lion, and feared no one. About five years since
he had overcome two robbers who had attacked him on the moors, and, after
tying their hands behind them, had delivered them up to justice; but at
night the rustling of a leaf filled him with terror. I have known
similar instances of the kind in persons of otherwise extraordinary
resolution. For myself, I confess I am not a person of extraordinary
resolution, but the dangers of the night daunt me no more than those of
midday. The man in question was a farmer from Evora, and a person of
considerable wealth.
I found the inn at Vendas Novas thronged with people, and had some
difficulty in obtaining accommodation and refreshment. It was occupied
by the family of a certain _fidalgo_ {55} from Estremoz; he was on the
way to Lisbon, conveying a large sum of money, as was said—probably the
rents of his estates. He had with him a body-guard of four and twenty of
his dependants, each armed with a rifle; they consisted of his shepherds,
swineherds, cowherds, and hunters, and were commanded by two youths, his
son and nephew, the latter of whom was in regimentals. Nevertheless,
notwithstanding the number of his troop, it appeared that the _fidalgo_
laboured under considerable apprehension of being despoiled upon the
waste which lay between Vendas Novas and Pegões, as he had just requested
a guard of four soldiers from the officer who commanded a detachment
stationed here. There were many females in his company, who, I was told,
were his illegitimate daughters—for he bore an infamous moral character,
and was represented to me as a staunch friend of Don Miguel. It was not
long before he came up to me and my new acquaintance, as we sat by the
kitchen fire: he was a tall man of about sixty, but stooped much. His
countenance was by no means pleasing: he had a long hooked nose, small,
twinkling, cunning eyes, and, what I liked worst of all, a continual
sneering smile, which I firmly believe to be the index of a treacherous
and malignant heart. He addressed me in Spanish, which, as he resided
not far from the frontier, he spoke with fluency; but, contrary to my
usual practice, I was reserved and silent.
On the following morning I rose at seven, and found that the party from
Estremoz had started several hours previously. I breakfasted with my
acquaintance of the preceding night, and we set out to accomplish what
remained of our journey. The sun had now arisen, and all his fears had
left him—he breathed defiance against all the robbers of the Alemtejo.
When we had advanced about a league, the boy who attended us said he saw
heads of men amongst the brushwood. Our cavalier instantly seized his
gun, and, causing his horse to make two or three lofty bounds, held it in
one hand, the muzzle pointed in the direction indicated; but the heads
did not again make their appearance, and it was probably but a false
alarm.
We resumed our way, and the conversation turned, as might be expected,
upon robbers. My companion, who seemed to be acquainted with every inch
of ground over which we passed, had a legend to tell of every dingle and
every pine-clump. We reached a slight eminence, on the top of which grew
three stately pines: about half a league farther on was another similar
one. These two eminences commanded a view of the road from Pegões and
Vendas Novas, so that all people going and coming could be descried
whilst yet at a distance. My friend told me that these heights were
favourite stations of robbers. Some two years since, a band of six
mounted banditti remained there three days, and plundered whomsoever
approached from either quarter. Their horses, saddled and bridled, stood
picqueted at the foot of the trees, and two scouts, one for each
eminence, continually sat in the topmost branches, and gave notice of the
approach of travellers. When at a proper distance, the robbers below
sprung upon their horses, and putting them to full gallop, made at their
prey, shouting, “_Rendete_, _Picaro_! _Rendete_, _Picaro_!” {57} We,
however, passed unmolested, and, about a quarter of a mile before we
reached Pegões, overtook the family of the _fidalgo_.
Had they been conveying the wealth of Ind through the deserts of Arabia,
they could not have travelled with more precaution. The nephew, with
drawn sabre, rode in front; pistols in his holsters, and the usual
Spanish gun slung at his saddle. Behind him tramped six men in a rank,
with muskets shouldered, and each of them wore at his girdle a hatchet,
which was probably intended to cleave the thieves to the brisket should
they venture to come to close quarters. There were six vehicles, two of
them calashes, in which latter rode the _fidalgo_ and his daughters; the
others were covered carts, and seemed to be filled with household
furniture. Each of these vehicles had an armed rustic on either side;
and the son, a lad about sixteen, brought up the rear with a squad equal
to that of his cousin in the van. The soldiers, who, by good fortune,
were light horse, and admirably mounted, were galloping about in all
directions, for the purpose of driving the enemy from cover, should they
happen to be lurking in the neighbourhood.
I could not help thinking, as I passed by, that this martial array was
very injudicious, for though it was calculated to awe plunderers, it was
likewise calculated to allure them, as it seemed to hint that immense
wealth was passing through their territories. I do not know how the
soldiers and rustics would have behaved in case of an attack, but am
inclined to believe that if three such men as Richard Turpin had suddenly
galloped forth from behind one of the bush-covered knolls, neither the
numbers nor resistance opposed to them would have prevented them from
bearing away the contents of the strong box jingling in their
saddle-bags.
From this moment nothing worthy of relating occurred till our arrival at
Aldea Gallega, where we passed the night, and next morning at three
o’clock embarked in the passage-boat for Lisbon, where we arrived at
eight: and thus terminates my first wandering in the Alemtejo.