RONDA FAIR--SPANISH PEASANTRY--VARIOUS COSTUMES--JOCKEYS AND
HORSES--LOVELY VIEW FROM THE NEW ALAMEDA--BULL FIGHTS--DEFENCE OF
THE SPANISH LADIES--MANNER OF DRIVING THE BULLS INTO THE
TOWN--FIRST ENTRANCE OF THE BULL--THE FRIGHTENED WATERSELLER--THE
MINA, OR EXCAVATED STAIRCASE--RUINS OF ACINIPPO--THE CUEVA DEL
GATO--THE BRIDGE OF THE FAIRY.
The fair which is held annually at Ronda, in the month of May, collects
an astonishing concourse of people from all parts of the country, and
offers an excellent opportunity for seeing the peculiar costumes of the
different provinces, as well as for observing the various shades of
character of their respective inhabitants. The national costume,
(speaking generally of it) is, without dispute, extremely becoming; for,
not only does it set off to advantage such as are naturally well formed,
but it conceals the defects of those to whom Dame Nature has been less
kind; making them appear stout, well built fellows--in their own
expressive words, "_bien, plantado_"[83]--when, in point of fact, it
ofttimes happens that their slender legs have enough to do to bear the
weight of the spare and ill-formed bodies placed upon them.
This is very perceptible when, deprived of their broad-brimmed
_Sombreros_ and stout leather _botines_, the peasantry come to be capped
and trousered in a military garb. To a stranger, indeed, it must appear
that the Spanish troops are collected from the very refuse of the
population of the country; so miserable is their look. But the truth is,
the conscription (by which the Army is raised) is levied with great
fairness; and to the change of dress alone, therefore, must the falling
off in their appearance be attributed.
The Spanish peasant, moreover, is the only one in Europe,[84] whose
_tenue_ is not improved by the drill serjeant; which may be accounted
for by his not, like those of other countries, having been accustomed in
his youth to carry burthens upon his _shoulders_. He consequently bends
under the new weight of a musket and knapsack, which, so placed, he
cannot but find particularly irksome.
To return, however, to the crowded city; whilst Ronda fair thus
periodically furnishes the occasion for a general muster of the natives
of all classes, the _Fair_ of Ronda may claim the merit of holding out
to them the inducement to display their figures and wardrobes to the
best advantage; and strange are the ways, and various the means, by
which the Andaluz _Majo_[85] seeks to win the sweet smiles or dazzle the
bright eyes of his tinsel-loving countrywomen.
Amongst the numerous varieties of the genus _Majo_, that claiming the
first rank may be readily known, by the _seeming_ wish to avoid rather
than to court admiration. Thus, the rich waistcoat of bright silk or
costly velvet, studded with buttons innumerable of the most exquisite
gold or silver filigree, is partially concealed, though rendered more
brilliant, by the jacket of dark cloth simply ornamented with black
braid and tags, which is worn over it; whilst the plain white kerchief
that protrudes from either side-pocket requires to be closely examined,
to make the extreme delicacy of its texture apparent.
Others, of more gaudy and questionable taste, hold peagreens and
lavenders to be more becoming; and here and there an ultra dandy may be
seen, aping the bull-fighter, and bedizened with gold and silver lace;
but he is of an inferior caste, and may generally be set down as a
_Chevalier d'Industrie_.
Another class of the genus is distinguished by the glossy jacket of
black goat-skin. The wearers of this singular costume are the
_Ganaderos_, or cattle owners; whilst those satisfied with the more
humble dresses, of brown or white sheep-skin--by no means the least
picturesque of the motley crowd--belong to the shepherd tribe.
The breeches and gaiters undergo as many varieties as those above
specified of the upper garments; but almost all who thus appear in the
national costume wear the _sombrero_, or broad-brimmed hat with a high
conical crown; the _Montera_--a low flat cap, made of black velvet, and
ornamented with silk tassels--being now used only by the bull-fighters,
and some elderly sticklers for old hats as well as old habits.
Many scowling fellows, enveloped in capacious cloaks, seemed to have no
object in view but to examine with searching eyes the persons of the
assembled multitude, and to conceal as much as possible their own from
counter observation; and some of the savage mountaineers,--whom nothing
but a bull fight, or perhaps the hope of plunder, could draw from their
mountain fastnesses,--gave evident signs of never before having seen the
British uniform.
I may observe here, _en passant_, that a few robberies are generally
_heard of_, at the breaking up of the fair; the temptation of well
filled pockets and bales of merchandize drawing all the _ladrones_ of
the surrounding mountains down to the high roads.
The cattle fair is held on a rocky plain beyond the northern limits of
the New Town. It is not so celebrated as some others held on the banks
of the Guadalquivir; the narrow stony tracts across the mountains being
both inconvenient for driving cattle, and injurious to their feet.
Nevertheless, it offers a good opportunity for swapping "a _Haca_,"[86]
though Spanish jockeys--like all others--must be dealt with according to
their own proverb--_à picaro, picaro y medio_.[87] The horses of the
South of Spain are small, hardy animals, well suited to the mountain
roads of the country, but possessing no claims to beauty, beyond a
lively head and a sleek coat. The Spaniards, by the way, have a strange
prejudice in favour of _Roman-nosed_ horses. They not only admire the
_Cabeza de Carnero_, (sheep's head) as they call it, but maintain that
it is a certain indication of the animal being a "good one." I presume,
therefore, the protuberance must be the organ of _ambulativeness_.
I was much mortified to find that "Almanzor," whose finely finished
head, straight forehead, sparkling eye, and dilated nostril, I certainly
thought entitled him to be considered the handsomest of his kind in the
fair, was looked upon as a very ordinary animal.
_No ai vasija que mida los gustos, ni balanza que los iguale_,[88] as
Guzman de Alfarache says; and my taste will certainly be disputed in
other matters besides horseflesh by all Spaniards, when I confess to
having frequently retired from the busy throng of the fair, or abstained
from witnessing the yet more exciting bull fight, to enjoy, without fear
of interruption, the lovely view obtained from the shady walks of the
new _Alameda_.[89] This delightful promenade is situated at the further
extremity of the modern town, overhanging the precipice which has been
mentioned as bounding it to the west. The view is similar to that
obtained from the parapet of the bridge; but here, the eye ranges over a
greater extent of country, commanding the whole of the southern portion
of the fertile valley, and taking in the principal part of the mountain
chain that encompasses it.
For hours together have I sat on the edge of the precipice, receiving
the refreshing westerly breeze, and feasting my eyes on the beauteous
scene beneath; tracing the windings of the serpent streamlet, and
watching the ever-changing tints and shadows, cast by the sun on the
deeply-furrowed sides of the mountains, as he rolled on in his diurnal
course. All nature seemed to be at rest; not a human being could be seen
throughout the wide vale; not a sound came up from it, save now and then
the bay of some vigilant watch dog, or the call of the parent partridge
to her infant brood. Its carefully irrigated gardens, its neatly trimmed
vineyards, and, here and there, a low white cottage peeping through
blossoming groves of orange and lemon trees, bore evidence of its being
fertilized by the hand of man: but where are its inhabitants? nay, where
are those of the city itself, whose boisterous mirth but lately rent the
air! All is now silent as the grave: the cries of showmen have ceased.
The tramp of horses and the lowing of cattle are heard no longer; the
Thebaic St. Anthony himself could not have been more solitary than I
found myself.--But, hark. What sound is that? a buz of distant _vivas_
is borne through the air!--It proceeds from the crowded circus--the
_Matador_ has made a successful thrust--his brave antagonist bites the
dust, and he is rewarded with a shower of _pesetas_,[90] and those cries
of triumph!--I regret not having missed witnessing his prowess! but the
declining sun tells me that my retreat is about to be invaded; the
glorious luminary sinks below the horizon, and the walk is crowded with
the late spectators of the poor bull's last agonies.
"_Jesus!_[91] _Don Carlos_"--would exclaim many of my bright-eyed
acquaintances--"why were you not at the Bull fight?"--"I could not
withdraw myself from this lovely spot."--"Well, _no ai vasija que mida
los gustos_.... You might see this at any other time." There was no
replying to such an indisputable fact, but by another equally
incontrovertible--viz.--"The sun sets but once a day."
The Bull-fights of Ronda are amongst the best of Spain; the animals
being selected from the most pugnacious breeds of Utrera and Tarifa;
the _Picadores_ from the most expert horsemen of Xeres and Cordoba; the
_Matadores_ from the most skilful operators of Cadiz and Seville; and
the whole arrangement of the sports being under the superintendence of
the Royal _Maestranza_. During the fair there are usually three
Corridas,[92] at each of which, eight bulls are slaughtered.
A Bull-fight has been so often described that I will content myself with
offering but very few remarks upon the disgusting, barbarous, exciting,
interesting sport,--for such it successively becomes, to those who can
be persuaded to witness it a second, third, and fourth time.
In the first place, I cannot admit, that it is a bit more cruel than an
English bull-bait (I speak only from hearsay of the latter), or more
disgusting than a pugilistic contest; which latter, whatever pity it may
occasion to see human nature so debased, can certainly possess little to
_interest_ the spectator, beyond the effect its termination will have
upon his _betting-book_.
Oh!--I hear many of my countrymen exclaim--"I do not complain so much of
the cruelty practised on the bulls, or the dangers incurred by the men.
The former were made to be killed for our use; the latter are free
agents, and enter the arena from choice. I feel only for the poor
horses, exposed to be gored and tortured by an infuriated animal,
without a chance of ultimate escape." Doubtless, the sufferings endured
by the poor horses are very disgusting to witness; but it is merely
because _we see_ their agonies, that we feel so acutely for them. Before
we condemn the Spaniards, therefore, let us look again at the amusements
of our own country, and _consider_ how many birds every sportsman dooms
to linger in the excruciating torments of a broken leg or wing, or some
painful bodily wound, for each one that he kills!--"But recollect,"
rejoins my Interlocutor, "recollect the difference between a bird and
such a _noble animal_ as a horse!"--Certes, I reply, a horse is a nobler
looking beast than a pheasant or a wild duck; but just observe the
wretchedness of our own decayed equinine nobility, standing in Trafalgar
Square and other rendezvous of cabs and hackney coaches!--Would it not
be comparative charity to end their sufferings by half an hour's
exposure in the Arena?
I must next throw my gauntlet into the arena in behalf of the Spanish
Ladies, who I maintain are vilely aspersed by those who have represented
them as taking pleasure in the tortures inflicted on the unfortunate
horses, and as expressing delight at the jeopardy in which the lives of
the bull's human persecutors are sometimes placed.
On such occasions, I have on the contrary remarked, that they always
retired to the back part of their box, or, if they could not do that,
turned their heads away in disgust or alarm.
It may be said, that they have no business at such exhibitions. Very
true--but surely some allowance is due, considering their want of such
breakneck sights as horse-races and steeple-chases? And,--apart the
cruelty to the animals,--I see no greater harm in the Spanish Lady's
attendance at a Bull-fight, than our fair country-woman's witnessing
such national sports.--The _Toreadores_[93] are certainly not exposed to
greater risks than the jockeys and gentlemen whom taste or avocation
leads daily to encounter the dangers of the field, for the entertainment
of the public!
At the numerous bull-fights I have witnessed--for I must plead guilty to
having become an _aficionado_[94]--I saw but four men hurt, and who can
say as much, that has hunted regularly throughout the season with a pack
of fox-hounds? or, that has walked the streets of London for a week,
since cabs and omnibuses have been introduced?
Certainly, it is not unusual to hear female voices cry, "_Bravo toro!_"
when some fierce bull has, at his first sweep round the circle, borne
down all the horsemen opposed to him; and then, maddened with pain, and
flushed with victory, but unable to attain his human tormentors, (who,
in spite of the ponderous weight of cuirasse, boot leather, and padding
that encumbers them, always manage to hobble off to a place of refuge)
rushes upon the poor blindfold, abandoned horses; which, with just
sufficient strength to get upon their legs, stand trembling in the
centre of the Arena, quite conscious of their danger, but not knowing
which way to avoid it, and thus, one by one, fall victims to the rage of
their infuriated enemy.--On such occasions, I repeat, I have heard such
encouraging cries proceed from female lips; but he who asserts that they
have been uttered by a Spanish _Lady_ can be classed only with _Monsieur
Pillet_, (I think that was the _quinze jours à Londres_ gentleman's
name) who stated that all English Ladies _boxed_ and drank brandy.
The most amusing part of the sport afforded by the Bulls is the driving
them into the town. This is done at night, and the following is the
method adopted. The animals, having been conducted from their native
pastures to the vale of Ronda, are left to graze upon the sides of the
mountains, until the night preceding the first day's _corrida_; when a
number of persons--of whom a large proportion are amateurs--proceed from
the city, armed with long lances, to drive them into their destined
slaughterhouse. The weapons, however, are more for show than use; since
the savage animals are decoyed, rather than goaded, into the snare
prepared for them. To effect this, some tame animals are intermixed with
the new comers on their first arrival; and these, trained by human
devices in all the ways of deceit, lead them off to slake their thirst
at the purest rill, and point out to them the tenderest pasture
wherewith to satisfy their hunger. The unsuspecting strangers, trusting
to the _pundonor_ of their new friends, abandon themselves to a Cupuan
enjoyment of the delights of this fertile region, and perceive not the
host of human foes that, under shelter of the night, are stealthily
encircling them. The investment completed, a horseman rides forward to
attract the attention of their treacherous brethren, who trot off after
him, followed by the whole herd. The rest of the horsemen now close upon
their rear, urging the bulls forward with loud shouts and blazing
torches; and, following close upon the heels of their leader, the
wonder-struck animals enter the town at a brisk pace and in compact
order. The cross streets having been strongly barricaded, the _avant
courier_ of the _Calbalgada_ proceeds straight to the court-yard
attached to the amphitheatre, the entrance to which alone has been left
open, and forthwith ensconces himself in a stable. The savage brutes,
bewildered by the strangeness of the scene, the blaze of lights and din
of voices, make no attempts either at escape or resistance, but, blindly
following his track, enter the court-yard, the gate of which is
immediately closed upon them.
A number of doors are now thrown open, which communicate with a large
apartment boarded off into narrow stalls. Into these but one bull at a
time can enter, and each of the decoy animals, selecting a separate
entrance, is quickly followed by two or three of the strangers. The tame
animal is permitted to pass through the narrow passage and escape at the
other end; but the unhappy victims of his toils, in attempting to follow
his footsteps, find their progress impeded by stout bars let down from
above, and are thus finally and securely installed.
Under this unpleasant restraint they continue until their services are
required in the arena; and during this brief period they are open to the
inspection of the curious, who can examine them at their ease from the
apartment above, the planking of the floor being left open for the
express purpose.
When the hour of the bull is come, the front bar of his prison is
withdrawn, a goad from above urges him forward, and, rushing from his
dark cell into the broad daylight, the astonished animal finds himself
at once in the _Arena_ and within a few paces of a _Picador's_ lance,
couched ready to receive his attack.
Some rush upon their enemy without a moment's hesitation; and I have not
unfrequently seen a valiant bull overthrow the four _picadores_ placed
at intervals round the circus, in less than that number of minutes. But,
in general, the animal pauses ere making his first onset--looks round
with amazement at the assembled multitude--paws up the dusty surface of
the arena--appears bewildered at the novelty of the sight and by the din
of voices,--and is undecided where to make the first attack. At length,
his eye rests on the nearest picador, and it is seldom withdrawn until
he has made his charge. He rushes on his enemy with his head erect,
lowering it only when arrived within a few paces. The picador gives
point to receive him on the fleshy part of the neck above the right
shoulder; and, if his horse be steady, he generally succeeds in turning
the bull off. But should the bull, regardless of his wound, return
immediately to the attack, the man has not time to resume his defensive
position, and his only safety is in ignominious flight. If his steed be
quick in answering the spur, he is soon removed from danger, but, if
otherwise, nine times in ten both horse and rider are laid prostrate.
Whilst in confinement, the bulls are decorated with the colours of their
respective breeders (a bunch of ribbon, attached to a dart, which is
forced into the animal's shoulder); and such as appear tame, and hold
out small promise of sport, are often "ingeniously tormented" previously
to being turned into the arena. I have heard also that it is not
unusual, when the circus is small, and the _Toreadores_ are not very
expert, to weaken the animal's powers by letting a weight fall upon his
back, so as to injure the spine; but this refinement of cruelty is
certainly not practised at Ronda.
It doubtless requires the possession of some courage to be a
bull-fighter; though at the same time it is to be recollected, that the
people who devote themselves to the profession have been brought up,
from their earliest youth, amongst the horns of these animals, and have
thus acquired a knowledge of all their peculiarities; they are
consequently aware, that the bull's furious onset requires but a little
activity to be readily avoided, and they have by long habit become
quick-sighted to take advantage of his blind rage, for striking their
blow. But, above all, their confidence is increased by knowing with what
ease the attention of the bull is drawn off; and no Picador or Matador
ever ventures into the arena unattended by one _Chulo_,[95] at least;
who, provided with a gaudy coloured flag or cloak, stands near at hand
to occupy the bull's attention, should his opponent have met with any
accident.
I once witnessed a laughable instance--as it turned out--of the ease
with which a bull's attention may be diverted. An _Aguador_, or
water-seller, had taken post in the narrow passage which serves as a
retreat for the bull-fighters when hard pressed, between the front row
of seats and the Arena, and, unconscious of danger, was vending his iced
liquid to the thirsty spectators--pouring it with singular dexterity
from a huge jar made fast to his back into their outstretched
goblets--when a bull, following close upon the heels of a _Chulo_, leapt
the five-foot barrier, and came with his fore legs amongst the front row
spectators, but, unable to make good his footing, fell back into the
narrow passage. The _Chulo_, by vaulting back into the Arena, readily
escaped from the enraged animal, which, not having space to turn round,
face and re-leap the barrier, found himself a prisoner within the narrow
passage. Very different, however, was the situation of the venturous
_Aguador_, who, labouring under his weighty liquid incubus, could not
possibly have clambered over the fence, even had time permitted of his
making the attempt. But, so far from that being the case, the bull
having instantly recovered his legs, was coming trotting and bellowing
towards him, with the most felonious intentions. The spectators shouted
with all their might to the luckless water-seller, _to save himself_;
alas! how was he to do so?--a single glance over his right shoulder
convinced him of the vainness of the admonition! Instinct prompted him
to run; but escape appeared impossible; for the horns of the rabid
animal were within a few feet of him, and every barrier was closed!
In this awful predicament, fright made him take the only step that could
possibly have saved him--namely, a _false one_. He stumbled, groaned,
and fell flat upon his face. The bull, without slacking his speed,
stooped down to give him his _quietus_; when a peasant--one of the
spectators--having tied his pocket-handkerchief to the end of his
_porra_,[96] dangled it before the animal's eyes just as he reached the
fallen _Aguador_. The enraged bull, making a toss at the new object thus
placed before him, bounded over the prostrate water-carrier, without
doing any other injury than breaking his jar with his hind feet, and
proceeded on to complete the tour of the circus.
The fright of the fortunate vender of water was excessive, and _now_
most ludicrous. The liquid poured in torrents over his shoulders and
down his neck, leading him to believe that he had been most desperately
gored, and that it was his life's blood which was--not oozing out of,
but--absolutely deluging him. He screamed most lustily that he was a
dead man; and the spectators, highly amused at the scene, cried out in
return, "Get up--get up, or you'll be drowned!" But, until some of the
_Chulos_ came to his aid, and put him on his legs, he could not be
persuaded that he had escaped without even a scratch.
He lost no time, however, in putting the power of his limbs to the
proof, running off as fast as they could carry him, to escape from the
jeers of the crowd, who, amidst roars of laughter, shouted after him,
"What a gash!"--"I can see right through his body."--"The Bull is
swimming after you!"--"_Toro! Toro!_" &c.
We will now leave the Amphitheatre, and proceed to visit one of the most
interesting sights of the ancient city--namely, an extraordinary
staircase, or _Mina_ as it is called by the natives, which, sunk close
to the edge of the chasm dividing the two towns, communicates with the
rocky bed of the river.
It is said to have been a work of Abou Melic, the first king of Ronda,
and was clearly undertaken to ensure a supply of water to the city in
the event of a siege;--the want of this indispensable article being, in
those early days, the only dread the inattackable fortress had to guard
against.
The entrance to the _Mina_ is in the garden attached to a gentleman's
house at a little distance from, and to the east of, the principal
bridge.
The descent, according to our Cicerone's information, was formerly
effected by 365 steps, cut in the live rock; but, at the present day, it
would defy the powers of numbers to reckon them, the greater part of the
staircase being in so ruinous a condition as to be barely practicable. I
should suppose, however, the depth of the _Mina_, from its mouth to the
bed of the river, is about 250 feet. It pierces the solid rock, in
short and very irregular zig-zags, for about two thirds the distance
down, when, entering a natural rent in the cliff, the remaining portion
is built up from the bottom of the chasm with large blocks of stone;
advantage having been taken of a lateral projection, to cover this
artificial facing from an enemy's projectiles.
At various levels, passages lead off from the staircase into spacious
and curiously arched apartments, to which light is admitted by narrow
casements opening into the chasm or tajo. This subterranean edifice is
supposed to have been a palace of the Moorish kings.
On the side walls of the narrow, crooked staircase, are numerous rudely
engraved crosses, which our conductor assured us were wrought by the
hands of the Christian captives who, during the last siege of the place,
were employed in bringing up water for the use of the garrison, and
whose oft-repeated signs of faith, thus lightly marked by their passing
hands, had miraculously left these deep impressions on the hard stone.
"Nor"--added he--"did such proofs of their devotion go unrewarded even
in this world, for their liberation quickly followed; the until then
unconquered city having been wrested from the Mohammedans after only a
few weeks' siege."--The chains of these good Christians were sent to
Toledo, in one of the churches of which city they may yet be seen.
Various other remarkable legends are related of this wonderful place;
which, however, I will pass over, to say a few words of other objects
worthy of observation in the vicinity of the city.
Of these, the most interesting to the Antiquary are the ruins of the
Roman city of Acinippo,[97] which lie scattered on the side of a
mountain on the left of the road to Seville by way of Olbera, and
distant about ten miles N.W. from Ronda. Some of the Spanish Geographers
persist in calling it _Ronda la vieja_, (old Ronda,) but certainly on no
good grounds, since no place bearing the comparatively modern name of
Ronda could well be of older date than the present city itself.
In the time of Carter, the venerable ruins of Acinippo could boast of
containing an Amphitheatre and the foundations of several spacious
temples, all in tolerable preservation; but these are now barely
perceptible; and the statues, pavements, in fact, every thing considered
worth removing, has long since been carried to Ronda.
Numerous Roman coins are daily turned up by the plough, as it passes
over the streets of the ancient city, and Cameos, intaglios, and other
more valuable relics, may be procured occasionally from the peasants
dwelling in the neighbourhood.
But, though scarcely one stone of Acinippo now rests upon another, still
the view from the site is of itself a sufficient reward for the trouble
of scrambling to the summit of the mountain; whence, on a clear day, it
is said that even Cadiz may be seen.
Deep in the valley, on the opposite or eastern side, flows the principal
source of the Guadelete, (water of _Lethe_) which the Spaniards maintain
is the _real_ river of _Oblivion_ of the ancients. Where the fertilizing
stream flows amongst the vineyards of Xeres, it probably has often
proved so without any fable.
On the bank of this rivulet stands the little castellated town of
Setenil; famous in Moorish history, as having defied all the efforts of
the Christians to subdue it, until the ponderous lombards of Ferdinand
and Isabella were brought to bear with unerring aim upon its rock-based
battlements. A.D. 1484.
Within another morning's ride from Ronda is a very remarkable cavern, in
the side of a lofty mountain, about five miles to the S.W. of the city,
and known by the name of the _Cueva del Gato_ (Cat's cave). The
entrance to it is some way up the face of a scarped wall of rock, that
falls along the right bank of the Guadiaro, and can be gained only by
those whose heads and feet are proof against the dizzy and slippery
perils to be encountered; the ascent being over a pile of rough granite
blocks, moistened by the spray of a foaming torrent that gushes out of
the narrow cavity. These difficulties surmounted, the cavern itself is
tolerably practicable, and the stream flows more tranquilly, though
still here and there obstructed by blocks of stone. After penetrating
some way into the interior, an opening of considerable width presents
itself, where a ruined building of very ancient date is observable. It
is said to owe its foundation to the Romans, and to have been a temple
dedicated to the infernal deities. Rumour alleges that in later times it
has served as a refuge for banditti. To proceed further, it is necessary
to be well supplied with torches: with their aid I was informed the
cavern is practicable for a great distance.
The stream to which this cavern gives a passage, takes its rise in a
wooded basin, situated on the opposite side the mountain ridge, from
whence the waters of all the other valleys are led off in a northerly
direction to the Guadalete. This eccentric little rivulet directs its
course, however, to the south, reaches the foot of a high-peaked mount
that overlooks the village of Montejaque, and there, its course being
obstructed by the solid rock, betakes itself once more to the earth,
filtering its way for upwards of a mile through the mountain, and
finally discharging itself into the Guadiaro[98] by the mouth of the
_Cueva del gato_.
The Cavern is said to have received its name from the wonderful feat of
a cat, which, put into the fissure by which the stream disappears from
the surface of the ground, reached the other entrance with one of its
lives yet unexhausted.
Numerous other delightful excursions may be made from Ronda, up the
ravines in the surrounding mountains; and, should the sports of the
field possess attractions, the country is noted for its abundance of
game of all kinds; from quails and red-legged partridges, to wild boars,
deer, and wolves.
In following this pursuit, chance one morning directed my footsteps
along the edge of the precipice, that (as I have already mentioned,)
bounds the New town to the west, and which, describing a wide circle,
and gradually losing something of its height, once more closes upon the
Guadiaro, about a mile below the city.
The space that nature has thus singularly walled in, and sunk beneath
the rest of the vale of Ronda, is richly clad with gardens and
vineyards; and the little stream, having disengaged itself from the dark
chasm that divides the two towns, here once more slackens its pace, to
luxuriate under refreshing groves of orange, citron, and pomegranate
trees. Arrived, however, at the southern extremity of this basin, the
rocky ledge on which I found myself standing again presents an obstacle
to the tranquil flow of the crystal stream, and it hurries fretfully
through a narrow defile, of the same wild character as that in which it
received its birth; the banks being thickly clothed with the endless
varieties of the cistus, and shadowed by the dense and sombre foliage of
the ilex and wild olive.
Beyond this, a glen of somewhat more easy access presents itself, and
the river is spanned by a light but firmly-knit arch, that bears the
romantic name of the _Puente del Duende_, or, the Bridge of the Fairy.
So sequestered is this spot--for it is some distance from any public
road--that the little bridge, though well known to the country people,
is seldom visited by strangers; and indeed its leafy canopy is so
impervious, that, until arrived at the very brink of the precipice
overlooking the dell, it is not possible either to discover the bridge
or to trace the further progress of the river itself, which, by its
tortuous course, seems loth to leave the lovely valley that has grown
rich under its fostering care.
The mountains beyond appear equally unwilling that the beauteous basin
should lose its benefactor; presenting themselves in such confused and
successive masses, and in such intricate forms, as seem to preclude the
possibility of the little stream ever finding its way through them to
the Mediterranean.
Conspicuous above all the other points of this serrated range, is the
_Pico de San Cristoval_,--said in the country to be the first land made
by Columbus on his return from the discovery of the New World. Certain
it is, that this peak,--called also _La Cabeza del Moro_ (Moor's
head)--can be seen at an immense distance. I myself, from the blue
Atlantic, have traced its faint outline reaching far above the horizon,
when the low land about Cadiz, though comparatively near, could not even
be discerned.
In following the course of the stream, however, I have been carried far
below the Fairy's Bridge, to which it is time I should retrace my steps.
The narrow little structure serves, at this day, merely as a point of
passage to a mill, situated on the left bank of the rivulet; from
whence long trains of pig-skin laded mules convey almost as constant, if
not so copious a stream, of oil and wine, _over_ the bridge, as that of
water which flows beneath it. The hills that rise at the back of the
mill--and which in our more level country would be called mountains--are
clad to their very summits with vineyards and olive groves--the sources
of this gladdening and fattening stream. There was, nevertheless, an air
of solitude, and even of mystery, about the spot, that greatly excited
my curiosity. The reckless muleteers devoutly crossed themselves ere
they ventured to pass over the little bridge; some even prostrated
themselves before a crucifix rudely carved in wood that stood
overhanging it. The more timid goatherds drove their flocks far away
from the holy spot; and those whom I questioned concerning it gave me to
understand, that the less they said and I inquired on the subject, the
better for all parties.
The owner of the mill, without being quite so reserved, was equally
mysterious; saying that, though in this sceptical age many persons were
disposed to regard the wonderful things related of the place as mere
_cuentas de viejas_--i. e. old women's tales--yet that he could vouch
for their truth, and, whilst it would be unbecoming in him (as Herodotus
said before him) to disclose _all_ he knew, this much he _could_
say,--that it would be dangerous for most people to dwell as near the
enchanted spot as he did. "But," added he, throwing open his shirt and
exposing what I learnt was a piece of a black dog's skin, that he wore
suspended from a rosary at his breast, "this is a sovereign charm
against all manner of witchcraft."
I afterwards discovered that the olive-grinding rogue was a notorious
smuggler, and kept his contraband goods concealed in what are supposed
to be haunted caverns, under his habitation, secure from the search of
superstitious _Aduaneros_.[99]
My curiosity still further excited by the difficulty experienced in
gratifying it, I applied for information touching the Fairy's Bridge to
my friend Don ---- ----, who referred me to _El Padre Canonigo, Don Apodo
Fulano_, adding laughingly, "You will be amused at the worthy father's
serious manner of relating the story; but I can assure you,--divesting
it of the marvellous,--it is not _todo cisco y carbon, como tesoro de
duende_."[100]
To the _Padre_ I forthwith bent my steps; and the following chapter
contains his account of the _Puente del Duende_, which I give as nearly
as possible in his own words.