LAS HURDES (ESTREMADURA) AND THE SAVAGE TRIBES THAT INHABIT THEM
Isolated amidst the congeries of mountain-ranges that converge upon
León, Castile, and Estremadura, lies a lost region that bears this name.
The Hurdes occupy no small space; they represent no insignificant nook,
but a fair-sized province--say fifty miles long by thirty broad--severed
from the outer world; cut off from Portugal on the one side, from Spain
on the other; while its miserable inhabitants are ignored and despised
by both its neighbours.
[Illustration: SKETCH-MAP OF LAS HURDES]
Who and what are these wild tribes (numbering 4000 souls) that, in a
squalor and savagery incredible in modern Europe, cling, in solitary
tenacity, to these inhospitable fastnesses?
Possibly they are the remnants of Gothish fugitives who, 1200 years ago,
sought shelter in these hills from Arab scimitars; other theories trace
their origin back to an earlier era. But whether Goths or Visigoths,
Vandals or other, these pale-faced Hurdanos are surely none of swarthy
Arab or Saracenic blood; and equally certainly they are none of Spanish
race. The Spanish leave them severely alone--none dwell in Las Hurdes.
Being neither ethnologists nor antiquaries, nor even sensational
writers, the authors confine themselves to their personal experience,
stiffened by a study of what the few Spanish authorities have collated
on the subject.
Whatever their origin may have been, the Hurdanos of to-day are a
depraved and degenerate race, to all intents and purposes savages, lost
to all sense of self-respect or shame, of honesty or manliness. Too
listless to take thought of the most elementary necessities of life,
they are content to lead a semi-bestial existence, dependent for
subsistence on their undersized goats and swine, on an exiguous and
precarious cultivation, eked out by roots and wild fruits such as
acorns, chestnuts, etc., and on begging outside their own region.
First, as to their country. Picture a maze of mountains all utterly
monotonous in uniform configuration--long straight slopes, each skyline
practically parallel with that beyond, bare of trees, but clad in
shoulder-high scrub. On approaching from the south, the hills are lower
and display delightful variety of heaths (including common heather); but
as one penetrates northwards, the bush is reduced to the everlasting
gum-cistus, and elevations become loftier and more precipitous till they
culminate in the sheer rock-walls of the Sierra de Gata. Here, in remote
glens, one chances on groves of ilex and cork-oak, whose gnarled boles
attest the absence of woodcutters, while huge trunks lie prostrate,
decaying from sheer old age. Here and there one sees an ilex enveloped
to its summit in parasitic growths of creepers and wild-vine, whose
broad, pale-green leaves contrast pleasingly with the dusky foliage and
small leaf of its host.
In the deep gorges or canyons of these mountains are situate the
settlements, called _Alquerías_, of the wild tribes, most of them
inaccessible on horseback. That of Romano de Arriba, for example, is
plunged in such an abyss that from November to March no ray of sunshine
ever reaches it. A similar case is that of Casa Hurdes, which, as seen
from the bridle-track leading over the Sierra de Portéros into Castile,
appears buried in the bottom of a crevasse. Others, in the reverse, are
perched on high, amidst crags that can only be surmounted by a severe
scramble up broken rock-stairways.
These _alquerías_--warrens we may translate the word--consist of
den-like hovels straggling without order or huddled together according
as the rock-formation may dictate--some half-piled one on another,
others separate. Many are mere holes in the earth--lairs, shapeless as
nature left their walls, but roofed over with branches and grass held in
place by schistose slabs that serve for slates. Hardly, in some cases,
can one distinguish human dwellings from surrounding bush, earth, or
rock. As our companion, a civil guard, remarked of one set of eyries
that adhered to a cliff-face, they rather resembled "the nests of
crag-martins" (_nidos de vencéjos_) than abodes of mankind.
Within are two tiny compartments, the first occupied by goats or swine,
the second littered with bracken on which the whole family sleep,
irrespective of age or sex. There is no light nor furniture of any
description; no utensils for washing, hardly even for cooking. True,
there is in some of the lairs a hollowed trunk which may serve as a bed,
but its original design (as the name _batane_ imports) was for pressing
the grapes and olives in autumn. No refuse is ever thrown out; even the
filthy ferns are retained for use as manure for the orchards--in a word,
these poor creatures habitually sleep on a manure-heap. Even wild
beasts, the wolves and boars, are infinitely more attentive to domestic
cleanliness and purity.
Another _alquería_ visited by the authors, that of Rubiáco, consisted of
a massed cluster of sties embedded on the slopes of a low ridge bordered
on either side by crystal-bright mountain streams. So timid and shy are
the natives that several were descried actually taking to the hill on
our appearance. A distribution of tobacco, with coloured handkerchiefs
for the women, restored a measure of confidence, and we succeeded in
collecting a group or two for the camera. The day, however, was dull and
overcast, and rain, unluckily, fell at that precise moment.
These people, clad in patch-work of rags, leather and untanned skins,
were undersized, pallid of complexion, plain (though we would scarce say
repulsive) in appearance, with dull incurious eyes that were instantly
averted when our glances met. The men, otherwise stolid and
undemonstrative, affected a vacuous grin or giggle, but utterly devoid
of any spark of joy or gladness. Many (though by no means all) displayed
distinctly flattened noses, somewhat of the Mongolian type; and not even
among the younger girls could a trace of good looks be detected. All
went bare-foot, indeed bare-legged to the knee.
On opening the door of a den--an old packing-case lid, three feet high,
secured by a thong of goatskin--two pigs dashed forth squealing, and at
the first step inside the writer's foot splashed in fetid moisture
hidden beneath a litter of green fern. It being dark within, and too low
to stand upright, I struck a match and presently became aware of a
living object almost underfoot. It proved to be a baby, no bigger than a
rabbit, and with tiny black bead-like eyes that gleamed with a wild
light--never before have we seen such glance on human face. While
examining this phenomenon, a sound from the inner darkness revealed a
second inmate. We crept into this lair, scrambling up two steps in the
natural rock, and from the fern-litter arose a female. She stood about
three feet high, had the same wild eyes, unkempt hair, encrusted brown
with dirt, hanging loose over her naked shoulders--a merciful darkness
concealed the rest. She appeared to be about ten years old, and dwarfed
and undersized at that; yet she told us she was fourteen, and the mother
of the rabbit-child, also that its father had deserted her a month
ago--ten days before its birth. The lair contained absolutely no
furniture, unless dead fern be so styled. Can human misery further go?
The next hovel did contain a _batane_, or hollowed tree, in which lay
some scanty rags like fragments of discarded horse-cloths. So lacking
are these poor savages in any sufficient clothing, whether for day or
night, that the children, we were assured, were habitually laid to sleep
among the swine, in order to share the natural warmth of those beasts.
In one abode only did we discover such convenience as a wooden chest. It
contained a handful of potatoes, some chestnuts, and a broken iron
cooking-pot. We examined another den or two--practically all were alike.
If anything was there that escaped our attention we had an excuse--the
aroma (personal, porcine, and putrid) was more than the strongest could
endure for many minutes on end.
We turned away. Mingled feelings of loathing, of pity, and of despair at
the utter hopelessness of it all filled our minds. There, not a hundred
yards away, a contrasted sight met our eyes, one of humbler nature's
most perfect scenes: a fledgeling brood of white wagtails tripped gaily
along the burnside--types of pure spotless beauty, overflowing with high
spirits and the joy of life. A few minutes later, and a pair of
ring-plovers (_Aegialitis curonica_) on the river accentuated the same
pitiful contrast.
Such small cultivation as exists in the Hurdes is carried on under
supreme difficulty. The hills themselves are uncultivable, and the only
opportunities that present themselves are either chance open spaces
amidst interminable rock, or such rare and narrow strips of soil as can
exist between precipitous slopes and the banks of the streams. Here
little garden-patches, thirty or forty feet long by a dozen in width,
are reclaimed; but the very earth is liable to be swept away by
winter-floods pouring down the mountain-sides, and has to be replaced by
fresh soil carried--it may be long distances--on men's shoulders. Here a
few potatoes may be raised and in the broader valleys scant crops of
rye. The few fruit trees are neglected, and therefore give short yield,
though what little is produced is of exquisite flavour, comprising figs,
cherries, a sort of peach (_pavia_), olives, and vines. All crops are
subject to the ravages of wild-boars, which roam in bands of a dozen to
a score, fearless of man and molested by none; while wolves take toll of
the flocks.
[Illustration: WHITE WAGTAIL]
Red deer also wander freely and unpreserved over these ownerless
hills--possibly the only place in Europe where such is the case. We
inquired whether many were shot, but were told that such an event
occurred rarely, though the Hurdano gunner might often approach within
close range. "We are not _enseñados_ [instructed] in the arts of chase,"
explained our informant. A few partridges and hares are found, with
trout in the upper waters.
Despite their degradation, the Hurdanos, we were assured, display no
criminal taint such as is inherent among Gipsies.
As regards the habits and customs of these people, we here roughly
transcribe from the work of Pascual Madoz[39] some selected extracts
that appear to be as accurate to-day as when they were written some
sixty years ago.
The food of the Hurdanos is as noxious as it is scanty. The potato
is the general stand-by, either boiled or cooked with crude goat's
suet; sometimes beans fried in the same grease, and lastly the
leaves of trees, boiled; with roots, the stalks of certain wild
grasses, chestnuts, and acorns. Bread is practically unknown--all
they ever have is made of coarse rye and such crusts as they obtain
by begging outside their district. Only when at the point of death
is wheaten bread provided.
Their clothing consists of a shapeless garment reaching from the
hip to the knee, a shirt without collar, fastening with one button,
and a sack carried over the shoulder. They have no warm clothing
and all go bare-foot. The women are even less tidy and dirtier than
the men. Never have they a vestige of anything new--nothing but
discarded garments obtained by begging, or in exchange for
chestnuts, at the distant towns. Their usual "fashion" is never to
take off, to mend, or to wash any rag they have once put on--it is
worn till it falls off through sheer old age and dirt. They never
wash nor brush their hair, and go bare-legged like the men.
[Illustration: A WOLF-PROOF SHEEPFOLD ON THE ALAGÓN, NORTH
ESTREMADURA
Walls 10 feet high: note the shepherd's dwelling alongside. Within
are sheep.]
These, moreover, are the richest; the majority being clad in
goatskins (untanned) that they kill or that die. These skins the
men fix round their necks, girt at waist and round the knees with
straps; the women merely an apron from the waist downward.
Men and women alike are dwarfed in stature and repugnant in
appearance, augmented by their pallor and starveling look. On the
other hand, they are active and expert in climbing their native
mountains. There is no outward difference in the sexes as regards
their lives and means of subsistence.
All their environment tends to make them untractable and savage
(_sylvaticos_), shunning contact with their kind, even fleeing at
sight and refusing to speak. They have no doctors nor surgeons,
relying on certain herbs for medicines; yet they live long lives.
They only recognise the passing seasons by the state of vegetation
and of the atmosphere. They sow and reap according to the phases of
the moon, of which they preserve an accurate observation. Religion
and schools alike are unknown. They glory in their freedom from all
moral suasion, and rejoice in the most brutal immorality and
crime--including parricide and polygamy. There are _alquerías_
wherein no priest has set foot, nor do they possess the faintest
sense of Christian duties.
It seems incredible that in the midst of two provinces both wealthy
and well reputed there should exist a plague-spot such as we have
painted, unknown as the remotest kraals of Central Africa.
Thus Pascual Madoz in 1845, and but little external change has become
apparent in sixty-five subsequent years.[40] Churches, it is true, have
been erected, priests and schoolmasters appointed. Amelioration,
however, by such means can only come very slowly--if at all. The
physical and domestic status of these poor savages must first be raised
before they are mentally capable of assimilating the mysteries of
religion. Spain, however, owes them something. They are heavily
taxed--beyond their power to pay in cash. Thus they are cast into the
power of usurers. In each _alquería_, we were told, is usually found one
man more astute than the rest, and he, in combination with some sordid
scoundrel outside, exploits the misery of his fellows. A species of
semi-slavery is thus established--in some ways analogous to the baneful
system of _Caciquismo_ outside.
The Hurdanos are also subject to the conscription and furnish forty to
fifty recruits yearly to the Spanish army. Curiously, time-expired men
all elect to return to their wretched lot in the mountains. On our
asking one of these (he had served at Melilla), "Why?" his reply was,
"for liberty."[41]
There is a villainous custom in vogue that hurls these poor wretches yet
farther down the bottomless pit. This abomination rages to-day as it did
a hundred years ago: we therefore again leave old Pascual Madoz to tell
the tale in his own words:--
Many women make a miserable livelihood--it is indeed their only
industry--by rearing foundling infants from the hospitals of Ciudad
Rodrigo and Placencia. So keen are they of the money thus obtained
that one woman, aided by a goat, will undertake to rear three or
four babes--all necessarily so ill-tended and ill-fed as rather to
resemble living spectres than human beings. Cast down on beds of
filthy ferns and lacking all maternal care, the majority perish
from hunger, cold, and neglect. The few that reach childhood are
weaklings for life, feeble and infirm.
This repulsive "industry" continues to-day, a sum of three dollars a
month being paid by the authorities of the cities named to rid
themselves of each undesired infant. The effect--direct and
incidental--upon morals and sexual relationship in the _alquerías_ of
the Hurdes may (in degree) be deduced--it cannot be set down in words.
Thus the single point of contact with civilisation serves but to
accentuate the degradation.