A GRANDEE OF SPAIN.
The port, or harbor, of Barcelona is formed by an
inlet of the sea. A triangular tongue of land,
with a long jetty projecting from its southern point,
shelters it from the violence of the sea, except on the
south–east. On the widest part of the tongue of land
is the suburb of Barceloneta, or Little Barcelona, inhabited
by sailors and other lower orders of people.
“I can just remember the city as it was when I left
it in a steamer to go to Marseilles, about ten years ago,”
said Raimundo, as he and Scott stood on the lee side
of the quarter–deck, looking at the objects of interest
that were presented to them. “It does not seem to
have changed much.”
“It don’t look any more like Spain than the rest of
the world,” added the lieutenant.
“This hill on the left is Monjuich, seven hundred
and fifty–five feet high. It has a big fort on the
top of it, which commands the town as well as the
harbor. The city is a walled town, with redoubts all
the way around it. The walls take in the citadel, which
you see above the head of the harbor. The city was
founded by Hamilcar more than two hundred years
before Christ, and afterwards became a Roman colony.
There is lots of history connected with the city, but I
will not bore you with it.”
“Thank you for your good intentions,” laughed Scott.
“But how is it that you don’t care to see the people of
your native city after an absence of ten years?”
“I don’t care about having this story told all through
the ship, Scott,” replied the young Spaniard, glancing
at the students on deck.
“Of course I will not mention it, if you say so.”
“I have always kept it to myself, though I have no
strong reason for doing so; and I would not say any
thing about it now if I did not feel the need of a friend.
I am sure I can rely on you, Scott.”
“When I can do any thing for you, Don, you may
depend upon me; and not a word shall ever pass my
lips till you request it.”
“I don’t know but you will think I am laying out the
plot of a novel, like the story of Giulia Fabiano, whom
O’Hara assisted to a happy conclusion,” replied Raimundo,
with a smile. “I couldn’t help thinking of my
own case when her history was related to me; for, so
far, the situations are very much the same.”
“I have seen all I want to of the outside of Barcelona;
and if you like, we will go down into the cabin where
we shall be alone for the present,” suggested Scott.
“That will suit me better,” answered Raimundo, as
he followed his companion.
“We shall be out of hearing of everybody here, I
think,” said Scott, as he seated himself in the after–part
of the cabin.
“There is not much romance in the story yet; and I
don’t know that there ever will be,” continued the Spaniard.
“It is a family difficulty; and such things are
never pleasant to me, however romantic they may be.”
“Well, Don, I don’t want you to tell the story for my
sake; and don’t harrow up your feelings to gratify my
curiosity,” protested Scott.
“I shall want your advice, and perhaps your assistance;
and for this reason only I shall tell you all about
it. Here goes. My grandfather was a Spanish merchant
of the city of Barcelona; and when he was fifty
years old he had made a fortune of two hundred and
fifty thousand dollars, which is a big pile of money in
Spain. He had three sons, and a strong weakness, as
our friend O’Hara would express it. I suppose you
know something about the grandees of Spain, Scott?”
“Not a thing,” replied the third lieutenant candidly.
“I have heard the word, and I know they are the
nobles of Spain; and that’s all I know.”
“That’s about all any ordinary outsider would be
expected to know about them. There is altogether too
much nobility and too little money in Spain. Some of
the grandees are still very rich and powerful; but physically
and financially the majority of them are played
out. I am sorry to say it, but laziness is a national
peculiarity: I am a Spaniard, and I will not call it by
any hard names. Pride and vanity go with it. There
are plenty of poor men who are too proud to work, or
to engage in business of any kind. Of course such
men do not get on very well; and, the longer they live,
the poorer they grow. This is especially the case with
the played–out nobility.
“My grandfather was the son of a grandee who had
lost all his property. He was a Castilian, with pride
and dignity enough to fit out half a dozen Americans.
He would rather have starved than do any sort of
business. My grandfather, though it appears that he
gloried in the title of the grandee, was not quite willing
to be starved on his patrimonial acres. His stomach
conquered his pride. He was the elder son; and while
he was a young man his father died, leaving him the
empty title, with nothing to support its dignity. I have
been told that he actually suffered from hunger. He
had no brothers; and his sisters were all married to one–horse
nobles like himself. He was alone in his ruined
castle.
“Without telling any of his people where he was
going, he journeyed to Barcelona, where, being a young
man of good parts, he obtained a situation as a clerk.
In time he became a merchant, and a very prosperous
one. As soon as his circumstances would admit, he
married, and had three sons. As he grew older, the
Castilian pride of birth came back to him, and he began
to think about the title he had dropped when he
became a merchant. He desired to found a family
with wealth as well as a name. He was still the Count
de Escarabajosa.”
“Of what?” asked Scott.
“The Count de Escarabajosa,” repeated Raimundo.
“Well, I don’t blame him for dropping his title if he
had to carry as long a name as that around with him.
It was a heavy load for him, poor man!”
“The title was not of much account, according to my
Uncle Manuel, who told me the story; for my grandfather
was only a second or third class grandee—not
one of the first, who were allowed to speak to the king
with their hats on. At any rate, I think my grandfather
did wisely not to think much of his title till his fortune
was made. His oldest son, Enrique, was my father;
and that’s my name also.”
“Yours? Are you not entered in the ship’s books
as Henry;” interposed Scott.
“No; but Enrique is the Spanish for Henry. When
my grandfather died, he bequeathed his fortune to my
father, who also inherited his title, though he gave the
other two sons enough to enable them to make a start
in business. If my father should die without any male
heir, the fortune, consisting largely of houses, lands,
and farms, in and near Barcelona, was to go to the
second son, whose name was Alejandro. In like manner
the fortune was to pass to the third son, if the second
died without a male heir. This was Spanish law,
as well as the will of my grandfather. Two years after
the death of my grandfather, and when I was about six
years old, my father died. I was his only child. You
will see, Scott, that under the will of my grandfather I
was the heir of the fortune, and the title too for that
matter, though it is of no account.”
“Then, Don, you are the Count de What–ye–call–it?”
said Scott, taking off his cap, and bowing low to the
young grandee.
“The Count de Escarabajosa,” laughed Raimundo;
“but I would not have the fellows on board know this
for the world; and this is one reason why I wanted to
have my story kept a secret.”
“Not a word from me. But I shall hardly dare to
speak to you without taking off my cap. The Count de
Scaribagiosa! My eyes! what a long tail our cat has
got!”
“That’s it! I can see just what would happen if you
should spin this yarn to the crowd,” added the grandee,
shaking his head.
“But I won’t open my mouth till you command me
to do so. What would Captain Wainwright say if he
only knew that he had a Spanish grandee under his
orders? He might faint.”
“Don’t give him an opportunity.”
“I won’t. But spin out the yarn: I am interested.”
“My father died when I was only six; and my Uncle
Alejandro was appointed my guardian by due process
of law. Now, I don’t want to say a word against Don
Alejandro, and I would not if the truth did not compel
me to do so. My Uncle Manuel, who lives in New
York, is my authority; and I give you the facts just as
he gave them to me only a year before I left home to
join the ship. Don Alejandro took me to his own
house as soon as he was appointed my guardian. To
make a long story short, he was a bad man, and he did
not treat me well. I was rather a weakly child at six,
and I stood between my uncle and my grandfather’s
large fortune. If I died, Don Alejandro would inherit
the estate. My Uncle Manuel insists that he did all he
could, short of murdering me in cold blood, to help me
out of the world. I remember how ill he treated me,
but I was too young to understand the meaning of his
conduct.
“My Uncle Manuel was not so fortunate in business
as his father had been, though he saved the capital my
grandfather had bequeathed to him. The agency of a
large mercantile house in Barcelona was offered to him
if he would go to America; and he promptly decided to
seek his fortune in New York. Manuel had quarrelled
with Alejandro on account of the latter’s treatment of
me; and a great many hard words passed between them.
But Manuel was so well satisfied in regard to Alejandro’s
intentions, that he dared not leave me in the keeping
of his brother when he went to the New World. Though
it was a matter of no small difficulty, he decided to take
me with him to New York.
“I did not like my Uncle Alejandro, and I did like
my Uncle Manuel. I was willing to go anywhere with
the latter; and when he called to bid farewell to my
guardian, on the eve of his departure, he beckoned to
me as he went out of the house. I followed him, and
he managed to conceal his object from the servants;
for my Uncle Alejandro did not attend him to the front
door. He had arranged a more elaborate plan to obtain
possession of me; but when he saw me in the hall,
he was willing to adopt the simpler method that was
then suggested to him. His baggage was on board of
the steamer for Marseilles, and he had no difficulty in
conveying me to the vessel. I was kept out of sight in
the state–room till the steamer was well on her way. I
will not trouble you with what I remember of the journey;
but in less than three weeks we were in New
York, which has been my home ever since.”
“But what did your guardian say to all this?” asked
Scott. “Did he discover what had become of you?”
“I don’t know what he said; but he has been at work
for seven years to obtain possession of me. As I disappeared
at the same time my Uncle Manuel left, no
doubt Alejandro suspected what had become of me.
At any rate, he sent an agent to New York to bring me
back to Spain; but Manuel kept me out of the way.
As soon as I could speak English well enough, he sent
me to a boarding–school. I ‘cut up’ so that he was
obliged to take me away, and send me to another. I
am sorry to say that I did no better, and was sent to
half a dozen different schools in the course of three
years. I was active, and full of mischief; but I grew
into a strong and healthy boy from a very puny and
sickly one.
“At last my uncle sent me on board of the academy
ship; but he told me before I went, that if I did not
learn my lessons, and behave myself like a gentleman,
he would send me back to my Uncle Alejandro in
Spain. He would no longer attempt to keep me out
of the way of my legal guardian. Partly on account
of this threat, and partly because I like the institution,
I have done as well as I could.”
“And no one has done any better,” added Scott.
“No doubt my Uncle Manuel has received good accounts
of me from the principal, for he has been very
kind to me. He wrote to me, after I had informed him
that the squadron was going to Spain, that I must not
go there; but he added that I was almost man grown,
and ought to be able to take care of myself. I thought
so too: at any rate, I have taken the chances in coming
here.”
“But you are a minor; and I suppose Don Alejandro,
if he can get hold of you, will have the right to take
possession of your _corpus_.”
“No doubt of that.”
“But does your guardian know that you are a student
in the academy squadron?” asked Scott.
“I don’t know: it is not impossible, or even improbable.
Alejandro has had agents out seeking me, and
they may have ascertained where I am. For aught I
know, my guardian may have made his arrangements to
capture me as soon as the fleet comes to anchor. But
I don’t mean to be captured; for I should have no
chance in a Spanish court, backed by the principal, the
American minister, and the counsel. By law I belong
to my guardian; and that is the whole of it. Now,
Scott, you are the best friend I have on this side of the
Atlantic; and I want you to help me.”
“That I will do with all my might and main, Don,”
protested Scott.
“I don’t ask you to tell any lies, or to do any thing
wrong,” said Raimundo.
“What can I do for you? that’s the question.”
“I shall keep out of sight while the vessels are at
this port; and I want you to be on the lookout for any
Spaniards in search of a young man named Raimundo,
and let me know. When you go on shore, I
want you to find out all you can about my Uncle Alejandro.
If I should happen to run away at any time,
_you_ will know, if no one else does, why I did so.”
“Don’t you think it would be a good thing to tell
the vice–principal your story, and ask him to help you
out in case of any trouble?” suggested Scott.
“No: that would not do. If Mr. Pelham should do
any thing to help me keep out of the way, he would be
charged with breaking or evading the Spanish laws;
and that would get him into trouble. I ought not to
have come here; but now I must take the responsibility,
and not shove it off on the vice–principal.”
“Who pays your bills, Don?”
“My Uncle Manuel, of course. He has a half interest
in the house for which he went out as an agent;
and I suppose he is worth more money to–day than his
father ever was. He is as liberal as he is rich. He
sent me a second letter of credit for a hundred pounds
when we were at Leghorn; and I drew half of it in
Genoa in gold, so as to be ready for any thing that
might happen in Spain.”
“Do you really expect that your uncle will make a
snap at you?” asked Scott, with no little anxiety in his
expression.
“I have no knowledge whatever in regard to his
movements. I know that he has sent agents to the
United States to look me up, and that my Uncle
Manuel has had sharp work to keep me out of their
way. I have been bundled out of New York in the
middle of the night to keep me from being kidnapped
by his emissaries; for my uncle has never believed that
he had any case in law, even in the States.”
“It is really quite a serious matter to you, Don.”
“Serious? You know that my countrymen have the
reputation of using knives when occasion requires; and
I also know that Don Alejandro has not a good character
in Barcelona.”
“But suppose you went back to him: do you believe
he would ill–treat you now?”
“No, I don’t. I have grown to be too big a fellow
to be abused like a child. I think I could take care of
myself, so far as that is concerned. But my uncle has
been nursing his wrath for years on account of my
absence. He has sons of his own, who are living on
my property; for I learn that Alejandro has done nothing
to increase the small sum his father left him. He
and his sons want my fortune. I might be treated with
the utmost kindness and consideration, if I returned; but
that would not convince me that I was not in constant
peril. Spain is not England or the United States, and
I have read a great deal about my native land,” said
Raimundo, shaking his head. “I agree with my uncle
Manuel, that I must not risk myself in the keeping of
my guardian.”
“Suppose Don Alejandro should come on board as
soon as we anchor, Don: what could you do? You
would not be in condition to run away. Where could
you go?” inquired Scott.
“I know just what I should do; but I will not put
you in condition to be tempted to tell any lies,” replied
Raimundo, smiling. “One thing more: I shall not be
safe anywhere in Spain. My uncle does not want me
for any love he bears me; and it would answer his
purpose just as well if I should be drowned in crossing
a river, fall off any high place, or be knifed in some
lonely corner. There are still men enough in Spain
who use the knife, though the country is safe under
ordinary circumstances.”
“Upon my word, I shall be hardly willing to let you
go out of my sight,” added Scott. “I shall have to
take you under my protection.”
“I am afraid your protection will not do me much
good, except in the way I have indicated.”
“Well, you may be sure I will do all I can to serve
and save you,” continued Scott, taking the hand of his
friend, as the movements on deck indicated that the
schooner was ready to anchor.
“Thank you, Scott; thank you. With your help, I
shall feel that I am almost out of danger.”
Raimundo decided to remain in the cabin, as his
watch was not called; but Scott went on deck, as much
to look out for any suspicious Spaniards, as for the
purpose of seeing what was to be seen. The American
Prince had already anchored; and her two consorts
immediately followed her example. The sails were
hardly furled, and every thing made snug, before the
signal, “All hands attend lecture,” appeared on the
flag–ship.
All the vessels of the fleet were surrounded by boats
from the shore, most of them to take passengers to the
city. The adult forward officers were stationed at the
gangways, to prevent any persons from coming on
board; and the boatmen were informed that no one
would go on shore that night. Scott hastened below,
to tell his friend that all hands were ordered on board
of the steamer to attend the lecture. Raimundo declared,
that, as no one could possibly recognize him
after so many years of absence, he should go on board
of the Prince, with the rest of the ship’s company.
The boats were lowered; and in a short time all
the students were assembled in the grand saloon, where
Professor Mapps was ready to discourse upon the
geography and history of Spain.