Until January 15th, Paul remained in Nantes, then he went to Madrid. The
weather was very cold. It was his intention to make a voyage on some
of the Spanish rivers. On looking over the country, he selected the
Tagus as being the least known and promising more adventure than any of
the others. When it was announced that he was going to attempt that
river, several of the-leading residents of Madrid endeavored to dissuade
him; he received letters from many prominent people telling him that the
river was not navigable, running as it did, through a wild,
mountainous country, and full of waterfalls. He concluded to take a look
at the stream himself and so form his own opinion. For this purpose he
went to Toledo and found there a narrow, turbulent river, rushing over
great masses of rock. He hired a mule and rode several miles down its
banks and discovered no improvement. In making inquiries of the natives
about the character of the river, the invariable answer was, "Mucho
malo, Senor; mucho malo." "Very bad, sir; very bad."
Boyton was far from liking the looks of the river; but made up his mind
to try it anyhow, especially as everyone told him he could not do it.
After deciding on a course, he returned to Madrid and witnessed the
fetes attending the marriage of King Alfonso and Queen Mercedes. The
young King took great interest in the proposed voyage; he sent word over
the country that the American was the guest of all Spain, and requested
his people to receive him hospitably. Before leaving Madrid to begin the
perilous undertaking, the Minister of the Interior gave Boyton maps of
the river and all the information concerning it he possessed, which was
surprisingly little: The maps were glaringly incorrect, as was
afterward learned. Many towns that the maps located on the river were
not near it.
When all was ready Paul's agent and baggage were sent to Lisbon to await
the termination of the voyage. Paul returned to Toledo to make final
preparations for the trip, which was one never before attempted. In
fact, as far as was known, the river had never been navigated from
source to mouth. It is three thousand five hundred feet above sea level
at Toledo, which accounts for its rapid descent. On his return to the
famous old city, Boyton was met by an aid-de-camp of the governor, who
tendered the hospitality of that official, which was gratefully
accepted for one day. That day was spent in visiting interesting
points. The next morning, Thursday, January 31st, 1878, Paul drove to
the river through the Gate of the Sun, and found a crowd of people
assembled to see him start. In a few moments he was in the water, and
the people cheered lustily as he began energetically to ply his paddle.
As he turned the bend at the end of the first half mile, he took his
last look at the stately Alcazar, away on the Crest of the hills,
and at the ruins of the Moorish mills on the riverside below. Onward,
and the bright, sunlit vision faded from his view.
"Now that I was started," said Paul, detailing an account of the
wondrous journey, "I felt easier and stopped at noon to partake of a
light dinner. I knew I was in for a tough job and made up my mind to go
through with it. The river ran all over the country and was as
changeable in temper as a novelist's heroine. Sometimes it was a mile
wide, running slowly, with as calm and smooth a surface as a lake.
Again, at the next bend it would dart toward a range of hills, and
instead of going around them as its previously erratic course led me to
expect, it would plough straight through the solid rocks. Then it would
become as narrow as a canal, deep and rapid as a mill race, and in some
places hurried along with the speed of an express train. The country
was utterly wild, and it was not an unusual thing to paddle from morning
until night without seeing a human being. As I knew nothing of the
river except that I was bound for Lisbon, it may be imagined that I was
not perfectly easy in my mind, I did not know but that the next angle in
a canyon might land me in a whirlpool or over a fall.
"A great majority of the peasants do not read and were therefore
ignorant of my undertaking. They are somewhat superstitious and my
first adventure was with two of them. It was some hours after I left
Toledo that I spied these men. They were great, hulking fellows,
engaged in rolling a large stump up the steep hill, rising from the
bank of the river. Slipping quietly along the surface, I got close
behind them without their seeing me. When I hailed them, they gave me
one startled look, released their hold on the stump which crashed down
to the river, while they ran up and disappeared in the recesses of
the hill. They never stopped to look the second time.
"I thought I would reach Peubla the first night; but owing to the
extraordinary bends of the river, nightfall found me in a terribly
rough portion of the country. I kept dashing from waterfall to
waterfall, from rapid to rapid, until two o'clock in the morning, when
the barking of a dog caused me to haul in. It was intensely cold and I
was very tired. I blew a blast on my bugle and some very rough looking
men came down to the bank. They proved to be shepherds and very kindly
took me to their hut, which was not far from the water. They had the
queerest way of keeping fire I ever saw. It was made of straw, the
embers banked in such a way that there appeared to be only a black mass;
but when they blew on the mass, a red glow would blush from it,
throwing out considerable heat. Over this fire, they cooked a little
soup for me. I remained in the hut until morning, stretching out on
the floor for a little rest, while they stood about, speaking their
mountain patois which I could not understand. I left them early in the
morning, passing through wild mountain scenery and seeing no signs of
habitation. No railroad or telegraph lines cross the river until near
Lisbon and there was no way for me to get word to my friends. I arrived
at Peubla at twelve o'clock and owing to the fact that I ran on to an
old, broken bridge which cut my dress, I was compelled to haul up. The
Alcalde was out in his high, picturesque cart, drawn by a tandem team of
mules. I accepted his invitation, and was driven up through the olive
groves to his house, followed by crowds of people. That night there
was a sort of entertainment given in my honor and having no clothing
with me except the heavy suit of underwear; I had to borrow a suit from
the Alcalde in order to be presentable. The women of that place were
most gracious and the girls as pretty as pictures. The Alcalde's
little daughter took an interest in me. She talked to me a great deal,
and in fact I could understand her Spanish much better than I could the
adults. What a pretty little thing she was--a perfect type of Spanish
beauty. She tried her best to deter me from continuing my voyage;
but next morning she went to the river to see me start. In fact the
entire village was there. When I was about to step into the water and
was bidding her adieu, she pressed a small religious medal into my band,
saying:
"Oh, I am so afraid you will never get to Lisbon. Take this, it will
help you through, The Blessed Madonna will protect you from danger."
"I kissed the little one good bye and slipped into the water amid the
vivas of the crowd. I was much grieved to hear, on reaching Lisbon, that
the little girl died a few days after my departure.
"Nothing of interest occurred during the day except that it was very
cold and rough and a snow storm was raging. On Sunday morning I arrived
at Talavera, where the kindness of the people was so great I was
compelled to leave the water and rest for awhile. From there the
river ran through a lower country; but wound about so that I could
never see more than a quarter of a mile ahead anywhere. There was a
continual change of current, now very rapid and again sluggish and
smooth. Just below the town is a water fall of considerable proportions
and a great crowd had gone down there to see me shoot over. In a spirit
of bravado, I stood up when near the brink and was hurled over head
first. Had I hit a rock, it would have killed me. The people cheered,
thinking that was the way I always went over them, but I tell you I made
up my mind never to try the experiment again.
"It was not long until the land began to rise higher and higher, or
rather, as it appeared to me, the river seemed to sink lower and lower
and settle down among the great hills. I could not tell from the maps
how I was working and I was anxious to see anyone in the hope that I
could get some information. During Monday I swept on a flying current
around a point of rock and was glad to catch sight of two men on the
bank. One stood on the ground surrounded by a group of sheep, the other
was up in a tree with a knife, lopping off the young limbs, throwing
them to his companion who distributed them to the sheep. I hailed them
with the cry of 'Hey, brother.' The man in the tree looked around and on
discovering my black figure in the water, helplessly let go all holds
and fell to the ground. His companion was startled; but when,
recovering from the shock, I was pointed out, he ran to the bank,
yelled something that seemed to be a warning and then both disappeared.
As I passed on, I saw why he had shouted. A young, gipsy-like girl stood
on a shelf of rock surrounded by goats. As the current was carrying me
toward her, she gave a cry of alarm and faced me, the long-bearded
goats doing the same. They formed a beautiful picture. Not wishing to
frighten her, I called out some reassuring word in Spanish, and to
show that she was not frightened, as were her male protectors, she
seized a big stone and raising it defiantly over her head, awaited my
approach. As I passed, I waved her an adieu and then she dropped the
stone and fled up the mountain followed by her goats.
"All day I picked my way cautiously along, using every energy to avoid
the varied shaped boulders which filled the river. At one time I
appeared to shoot down a very steep hill. I was hemmed in by huge rocks
that rose like a high wall on either side and there was no possible way
to get out. The thought struck me that I was going into some
subterranean passage, the perpendicular walls seeming to close in and
swallow up the entire river. I was swept down by the mighty, though
narrow current, and was beginning to feel sure that I was being
carried into some underground rapids, when I was suddenly dumped into
a deep pool, where the course of the river was running smooth and
placidly along almost at right angles with the rapids above. At this
abrupt turn, evidences of former floods were plain. Immense rocks were
cut and carved in spiral columns as skillfully as any sculptor could
have chiseled them. Great flocks of wild black ducks peculiar to the
Tagus, were continually rising at my approach.
"At ten o'clock that night, hearing the heavy roar of rapids below and
the river becoming wilder, I decided to stop until daylight. I crept
cautiously in shore until I found an opening and there landed. There was
no wood to build a fire and I laid for several hours in my dress. At
daybreak I resumed the voyage and it looked as though I was penetrating
the very bowels of the mountains, whose crests loomed high in the sky.
I soon discovered the cause of the roar that had arrested my progress
the night before. It was an ugly rapid, madly fighting sharp, broken
rocks and I was dashed in amongst them. In trying to make a passage to
escape a back water, something like that I had gone through on the Arno,
at Florence, I turned so quickly that the little tender was thrown into
the vortex on one side, tearing loose from my belt, while I was rapidly
carried down the other. I never saw her again and what was more, I was
left without provisions of any kind.
"That afternoon the river increased in speed and, dashed along at a mad
rate. Once in a while, as I wheeled around some sharp bend, I could hear
a sullen roar that plainly indicated the presence of falls below; but it
seemed so far away that I paid but little attention to it. I kept
driving steadily along, enjoying the exhilaration of the rapid pace,
when my attention was attracted by the report of a gun. Looking up I saw
a guarda civil, the gendarme of Spain, who held his carbine aloft and
vigorously waved his hat with the other hand as I shot by. The
current increased and the roar below became more audible. Going around
another bend I saw a number of people on the bank waving their hats
with a downward motion. That is the signal used in Spain when you are
desired to approach. I misunderstood it, and thought it meant for me to
take the other side, which I did and found I was in a current from which
I could not extricate myself. Another sharp, turn and the village of
Puente del Arzobispo came into sight with the heavy spray from the falls
rising high in the air. The roar was like the deep rumbling of thunder
when near at hand. I paid no attention to the shouts of the people to
stop, for I saw could not possibly get out of the current, so I exerted
myself to pass the falls safely. I saw where the water sank on the
brink and I knew that was the course of the channel, and I also knew
that my only chance of safety was to reach that point. All my energies
were directed to it and in an instant I was on the brink of, a series
of falls, tumbling from ledge to ledge like the steps of a colossal
staircase. Fortunately I struck the deep channel--my only safe course. I
was covered with foam and spray and could not see. All I could do was
to trust to Providence and the depth of water, and I shortly found
myself twisting around in a great pool below. Half stunned and almost
smothered by frequent submerging and the weight of the volume of water
that had fallen on me, I drifted helplessly toward the bank. The next
thing I remembered was hearing sounds above me and a hand reaching down
and grasping me, while a voice in French said:
"You live!"
"It's about all I do," was my answer.
Then strong arms hauled me out on the bank. The one who had addressed me
was a priest, and through the midst of a madly excited crowd he
escorted me up the street to the palace of the archbishop, a quaint old
building, almost in ruins. Here every possible kindness was extended
from the civil, military and religious authorities. At the banquet
tendered me I was dressed in a suit of clothes half clerical, half
military; but I enjoyed it as well as my tired bones would permit. I
excused myself as early as I could and went to bed with the intention of
making a start in the morning; but when morning came I felt so broken
up and sore that I concluded to remain over and rest a day.
I was taken in hand by some of the prominent people and shown the places
of interest in the village. Among those visited and one that greatly
interested me, was the olive mills. The town is noted for the production
of a superior olive oil; but the mode of producing it is most
primitive, being almost the same as that used by the Moors hundreds of
years ago. They first place the round, green olives in sacks that are
then set in a large stone bowl into which a flat cover lifts. An old
time screw with beam attachment presses on the stone cover, and as an
ass, hitched to the end of the beam, tramps wearily round and round the
screw presses the stone tight on the olives, squeezing the oil into
cemented grooves at the bottom of the bowl through which it flows into
casks. The refuse, or pummies, as we would call them, is fed to the
hogs and cattle. It struck me at the time that with our improved
American machinery, we could extract about four times as much oil out of
the pummies thrown away, as they got out at the first pressing.
"Another place I visited under the escort of the good padre and an
officer, was the prison. This prison contained as choice a collection
of murderers as ever drew a knife across a helpless traveler's throat.
The news of my coming had preceded me and these free knights of
the mountains stood in rows along the corridors to receive me, backed up
by several well armed carbineros. The worthy padre would point out
the most distinguished of these gentlemen. 'That one,' he'd say, 'is in
for killing two travelers at such or such a pass. This one abducted
a wealthy man and demanded ransom from his family, to whom he sent the
ears of the unfortunate, and the ransom not coming, his throat was
slit. The one over there, killed four men before he was caught,' and so
on down the line, such cheerful histories were told. I politely saluted
each artist of the knife and carbine as I passed, and on leaving, one of
them stepped up and addressed me in a patois which the padre
translated. The request he made, struck me as being so ridiculous, that
I could scarcely refrain from laughing. It was to the effect that they
all had heard of my voyage down the river and all of them were anxious
to witness my departure on the morrow and knew if I would kindly
intercede with the Governor, they would have that happiness.
"The request was so absurd, that I had no thought of saying anything to
the Governor about it. In going out, the Governor invited us into his
private apartments, and while being entertained there, I jokingly told
him of the queer request the brigands had made. I was more than ever
astonished at his replying:
"Como no? Senor" "Why not, sir?"
"When starting, next morning, I was frequently warned that the river was
very bad; but could get no information of any consequence, except that
it wound through many canyons. The whole town turned out to see me off
and as I was feeling very much refreshed, I was soon ready. Going to the
bank, what was my astonishment to see all those gentle murderers
standing in a row with carbineros on either side, guarding them. One of
the brigands, the spokesman of the day before, stepped forward and
addressed me thus.
"'Illustrious Captain. We would like much to form your escort down the
river as a protection against the lawless characters which we are aware
infest the mountains below; but being detained here against our will, we
are unable to offer you that homage. But as a mark of our pure regard,
on behalf of myself and worthy companions, I present you with this
purse, a specimen of our own handicraft and may you never lack means to
keep it full.'
"The purse was a long, knit affair in colored yarns, looking like an
old fashioned necktie. I thanked them and regretted the cruel
circumstances which prevented their accompanying me, while secretly
rejoicing that such a disreputable looking set of villains was
closely guarded.
"I took to the stream again and the mountains once more looked as if
they were closing in on the river. At times I would sink into quiet
pools, requiring incessant paddling to push through and then emerge into
rapids that would necessitate the utmost labor to keep from being dashed
on the rocks. I ran all that day without meeting any one. About ten
o'clock at night, I noticed a light down the stream and sounded my
bugle. I was tired and chilly and glad to hear a hail from the
direction of the light. I landed at a sort of ferry and found a man and
woman awaiting me with a lantern. They escorted me to a little cabin and
the woman bustled about, building a fire out of weeds and other stuff,
wood being very scarce. Their patois was of the mountains and I could
not understand their speech nor they mine. By signs, however, we
understood each other very well and I intimated to them that I would
stretch out before the fire all night. But they refused to allow me to
lie on the floor. I understood them to mean for me to take the bed
as the man was going away somewhere. This I did and was soon sound
asleep. At one o'clock in the morning, I was awakened with an impression
that some one was in the room near me. I looked up and by the dim rush
light saw a tall figure standing by the bedside, upright and stiff,
a three cornered hat on his head, a carbine strapped across his back and
a sword by his side. In answer to my look of wonder, he simply raised
his right hand and gave a military salute. I asked:
"Que esta, Senor?" "What is it, sir?"
"His reply was: 'By order of the king, I am here to offer you protection
and assistance.'
"Thanking him for his courtesy, I turned over in bed and went to sleep
again.
"After breakfast of wild boar bacon, which was the sweetest meat I ever
tasted, the guard and my host accompanied me to the river. I carried a
good supply of gold and silver with me; but all offers of money
throughout the entire eight hundred miles of this voyage, were
peremptorily refused. It was impossible to spend a cent. In fact, the
money wore through the little bag I carried it in and I found it loose
in my dress. The only place I used a cent on the trip was at Talavera.
A boy who had done an errand for me, accepted a peseta. When it was
found out, he was sent back with it and apologized for his conduct.
"The river now began to get very narrow and to bury itself in canyons,
so that during the day the sun scarcely ever shone on the water except
at noon when it was directly overhead. Since losing my little tender, I
had no way to carry provisions except in a small oil cloth strapped on
my breast. The host of the cabin had insisted on my taking some of the
wild boar bacon with me; but seeing their stores were low, I took but
very little, which I easily devoured at noon. For three days I continued
the voyage through canyons and during the entire time the only signs
of human life I saw was an occasional glimpse of people far up in the
mountains, passing along, but too distant to attract their attention. My
progress was slow owing to the long stretches of dead water I would
strike, it was silent and lonely. The wild black ducks I would scare
up were the only signs of life on the river. All the sleep I took was
during daylight. I would haul up on some dry rock near the shore and in
a moment be buried in profound slumber. At night I dare not sleep, for I
could hear the howling of the wolves that are fierce and plentiful along
that part of the Tagus, and their dismal yells warned me to keep to the
river.
"On the morning of the third day in the canyons, I was stiff, sore and
hungry, having eaten nothing but wild olives, gathered near the banks,
for two days. That morning the idea struck me that I must have wandered
into some false channel, or some branch from the Tagus, as I could make
no headway. I came to an upright position and with every sense sharpened
by hunger, listened to hear, if possible, the ringing of a bell, the
barking of a dog or any sign of life; for I had about reached the
conclusion that it was time for me to leave the water and climb the
mountain in search of some house or village; but not a sound broke the
deathlike stillness, except the distant rumbling of rapids I had passed
over or those below that I must soon encounter. As I wearily sank back
in the water and grasped the paddle in the hope that farther down some
opening in the mountain might give me a chance to escape, something
familiar struck my senses. I could not tell what it was. It was
intangible, yet I felt there was something about that belonged to
human beings. Again I came to an upright position, peered in every
direction and listened. It was then discovered what it was that had so
affected me. It was the smell of smoke which the breeze was gently
carrying up the river. I pushed down on my course with all my strength
in hope of finding the fire, and on rounding a sharp bend was rewarded
by seeing a thin, blue streak curling up from the mountain side. I
landed a little above it and commenced clambering over great, detached
rocks, until I gained a terrace on a level with the line of smoke. I
paused to listen and heard the muffled sound of voices near me. The
voices came from the other side of a small promontory around which
I crawled. My soft rubber boots made no sound, and as I rounded the rock
I was surprised to find myself almost alongside of two shepherds. One
of them was stooping over the fire stirring something in a stew pan,
while the other was rolling cigarettes in corn husks, their backs
turned toward me. Previous experiences with these simple people of the
mountains had taught me how superstitious and easily frightened they
are, and wishing to gain some information from them as well as something
to eat, I let the point of my iron shod paddle strike a rock, at the
same time saluting them with 'buonos dias mis hermanos,'--good day, my
brothers. The men sprang to their feet and turned around at the
unexpected salutation. Then a wild yell rang through mountain top and
ravine and they dashed away like a pair of frightened deer. At every
hail for them to stop they only redoubled their efforts to escape and
soon disappeared up the ravine. I sat down and made a breakfast off the
provender they had left behind and enjoyed it as I never enjoyed
anything before. I also absorbed a pig skin flask of Spanish wine
which afforded me great consolation in my exhausted condition. I then
took off the dress and dried myself before the fire and rising sun, in
hopes the shepherds would take courage and return; but they never came
back. Before dressing I left a Spanish dollar on the upturned bottom of
the stew pan, and returned to the river much refreshed and all traces of
hunger gone.
"I had not proceeded more than a league when I observed a man seated on
a mule, occupying a point of rock overlooking the river. The man, on
seeing me, raised a bugle to his lips and sounded a merry blast, which
was, answered by loud cheers further down. On arriving opposite the
lookout, I was informed that the Governor of Caceres and a party of
ladies and gentlemen were waiting for me at a short distance below, and
in a few moments I sighted the party and landed. I was warmly received
by a numerous gathering. The Governor informed me they had driven
across from Caceres the day before, to intercept me; that he had had a
message from King Alphonso to see that I wanted for nothing. He
pleasantly remarked to me in French, that it was an old Spanish custom
to say to a guest, 'my house is yours,' but he would change the
saying to 'my country is yours.'
"The place at which I landed was a ford or ferry. The Governor and his
party were sheltered under a large tent which had been erected for the
occasion, and were attended by a troop of servants and cooks. The latter
had prepared a regular banquet and oh, how I wished I was so
constituted that I could take enough food aboard to last me some days.
As it was, the bounteous feast deserted by the shepherds, had filled me
to repletion and I could do but scant justice to the load of luxuries
they spread before me. I spent the day pleasantly with them, however,
and parted that evening with many kind wishes and warnings. The
Governor's engineer, who was one of the party, told me all he knew about
the river and said I would soon reach the terrible rapids known as the
Salto del Gitano--the Gypsey's Leap.
"After leaving the delightful company, I bowled away on a flying current
and ere long heard a roar below warning me that I was approaching a
dangerous point. I prepared to take it, no matter what it was. The river
closed in between two natural walls, as narrow as a canal, and danced
away at a lively pace. The water dashed over the rocks that obstructed
its passage, and was churned into foam and spray that leaped high into
the air. As the roar below grew more terrible, I lost some courage and
endeavored to check up, fearing to encounter backwater. In attempting to
stop myself, I grasped a rock as I was being carried by; but did not
have strength enough to resist the force of the current, and so was
hurled along. The current ran about thirty kilometers an hour, and the
rocks were so high on either side that only a small strip of sky was
visible overhead. The stream took on an abrupt turn about every hundred
yards and was running in the most peculiar currents. I was tossed
repeatedly from one side of the river to the other by sortie unseen
action and bumped against the rocks. I dashed through two or three
rapids and then came to a fall that almost deafened me with its roar.
I saw the water in front of me rushing together in big waves and then
jumping, leaving nothing but white foam to show where it disappeared. I
was drawn down and whirled and thrown about; how I came out I can't
tell. I do know, however, that I was puffing and trying to breathe.
It was quite a while before my head became clear after that shaking up;
but I kept right along.
"All that night I ran through another series of canyons until about two
o'clock in the morning, I saw in the moonlight what seemed to be a thin
string across the river, but on drawing closer, it proved to be the
bridge at Alcantara. It is a queer stone bridge, with two abutments and
one arch stretching across from one mountain to another, high up in the
air. There was no one out and I climbed up to the level of the bridge.
By calling and making a lot of noise, I succeeded in rousing the bridge
tender, who took me to the house of the Alcalde where all turned out
and welcomed me. I stopped there over Sunday and thoroughly enjoyed
myself. At night I went to a theatrical entertainment and was called on
for a speech, to which I responded to the best of my ability. I was
presented to many ladies and thought them the handsomest I had seen in
any part of Spain.
"I started early next morning and a short distance below, came to the
point where the river is bordered on one side by Portugal, and I soon
noticed a Portuguese flag flying from a mast and heard loud vivas from
the crew of a flat bottomed boat with a cabin, which I ran alongside of
and was informed that the boat had been sent by the Portuguese
government to meet me. The captain also carried a letter from the
Minister of Marine stating that the boat had been placed at my
disposal. At this I felt wonderfully relieved. The hard work was now all
over, as I simply followed the government craft for the remainder of
the journey. It was quite a novelty at first to begin taking my meals
regularly again and as there was an abundance of everything, I began to
thoroughly enjoy the trip. We would tie up every night and I occupied
the cabin.
"At Portes de Rodas, the first town we struck in Portugal, I met with a
peculiarly Portuguese reception. Every person was supplied with
detonating rockets which were fired off in showers and that was the
manner of showing good will at every place in the country. There were
no rocks in the river now. The stream broadened majestically and the
tides from the Atlantic began to be felt. At Abrantes and Santarem,
the receptions accorded me took the wildest form of enthusiasm and I
there heard for the first time the peculiar name given me in Portugal
'Homen das Botas',--'the man with the boots'. This name grew out of an
ancient story connected with the Tagus. Many years ago the government
officials wished to pass a law which was obnoxious to the people, who
made a terrible clamor against it. A shrewd politician, to distract the
people's attention from the proposed law, circulated the report that a
man in boots was going to walk on the surface of the Tagus from
Santarem to Lisbon. This was such a wonderful thing that the people
lost sight of the political question, in watching the river and
discussing the performance. In the meantime the law was passed. For
years the people talked and at last joked about the 'man with the
boots,' and so when I came down, there was some reason for their
cries of 'here comes the veritable Homem das Botas.'"
As Paul approached Lisbon, he had to work tides. The river ran through a
very low country and stretched into so wide an expanse, as almost to
form a bay. He arrived in Lisbon just eighteen days from the time of
starting, which included nine night's paddling. The welcome he
received there was something tremendous. It was estimated that one
hundred thousand people were out to see him land. Just before going
ashore, a steam launch put out to him with dispatches of
congratulations from the King of Spain and his Minister of Marine. A
company of horse guards took charge of him and escorted him to a
hotel. The usual banquets and entertainments followed this winding up of
one of the hardest voyages he ever made.
The fact that the Tagus had been navigated, created a profound sensation
throughout Spain and Portugal, and Boyton was kept busy acknowledging
telegrams of congratulation. The governor of Toledo sent the Spanish
consul at Lisbon a telegram which, translated, read as follows:
"I beg you to heartily congratulate Captain Boyton in my behalf for the
happy termination of his difficult voyage on the river Tagus, which has
once more shown his intelligence and courage."
"Before leaving Madrid to begin the journey," remarked Paul to an
American friend, "the foreign colony warned me not only of the dangers
of the Tagus, but also against the people along the river, who were wild
and ignorant, and would kill me. On the contrary I found them
kind, hospitable and generous, both in Spain and Portugal."
The Geographical Society of Lisbon requested the navigator to deliver a
lecture. Though the members of the society lived right on the banks of
the river, they knew comparatively little about it, and Boyton's lecture
was of great scientific importance to them. Among other things, he
told them of the abutments and ancient masonry he had seen while going
through some of the wildest canyons, that could not be approached in any
way. This masonry, he thought, must be the remains of ancient Moorish
structures which stood there before the great earthquake had shaken up
and changed the surface of the country through which the Tagus flows.
An expedition sent out by the Society soon afterward, verified Boyton's
words and opinions.
Paul remained in Lisbon during Carnival week, and was entertained until
he grew weary of so much pleasure. He gave an exhibition in the Arsenal
de Marinha before the king and queen of Portugal, and received numerous
presents and decorations.