DEPARTURE FOR MADRID--CORDON DRAWN ROUND THE CHOLERA--RONDA--ROAD
TO CORDOBA--TEBA--ERRONEOUS POSITION OF THE PLACE ON THE SPANISH
MAPS--ITS LOCALITY AGREES WITH THAT OF ATEGUA, AS DESCRIBED BY
HIRTIUS, AND THE COURSE OF THE RIVER GUADALJORCE WITH THAT OF THE
SALSUS--ROAD TO CAMPILLOS--THE ENGLISH-LOVING INNKEEPER AND HIS
WIFE--AN ALCALDE'S DINNER SPOILT--FUENTE DE PIEDRA--ASTAPA--PUENTE
DON GONZALO--RAMBLA--CORDOBA--MEETING WITH AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.
The next and last excursion of which I purpose extracting some account
from my notebook, was commenced with the intention of proceeding from
Gibraltar to Madrid, late in the autumn of the year 1833; at which time,
the cholera having broken out in various parts of the kingdom of
Seville, it was necessary to "shape a course" that should not subject my
companion and self to the purifying process of a lazaret; a rigid
quarantine system having been adopted by the other kingdoms bordering
the infected territory.
We hired three horses for the journey; that is to say, for any portion
of it we might choose to perform on horseback: two for ourselves, and
one to carry our portmanteaus, as well as the _mozo_ charged with their
care and our guidance.
We found, on enquiry, that by avoiding two or three towns lying upon the
road, we could reach Cordoba without deviating much from the direct
route to that city, whence we purposed continuing our journey to the
capital by the diligence. We proceeded accordingly to Ronda, which place
being in the kingdom of Granada, was open to us; and thither I will at
once transport my readers, the road to it having already been fully
described. After sojourning a couple of days at the little capital of
the Serranía, comforting my numerous old and kind friends with the
opinion (which the event, I was happy to find, confirmed), that the new
enemy against which their country had to contend--the dreaded
cholera--would not cross the mountain barrier that defended their city;
we proceeded on our journey, taking the road to Puente Don Gonzalo, on
the Genil, thereby avoiding Osuna, which lay upon the direct road to
Cordoba, but in the infected district.
In an hour from the time of our leaving Ronda, we crossed the rocky
gulley which has been noticed as traversing the fertile basin in which
the city stands, laterally, bearing the little river Arriate to irrigate
its western half, and in the course of another hour reached the northern
extremity of this fruitful district. The hills here offer an easy egress
from the rock-bound basin; but, though nature has left this one level
passage through the mountains, art has taken no advantage of it to
improve the state of the road, for a viler _trocha_ is not to be met
with, even in the rudest part of the Serranía.
The view of the rich plain and dark battlements of Ronda is remarkably
fine.
After winding amongst some round-topped hills, the road at length
reaches a narrow rocky pass, which closes the view of the vale of Ronda,
and a long deep valley opens to the north, the mouth of which appears
closed by a barren mountain, crowned by the old castle of _Teba_.
The path now undergoes a slight improvement, and, after passing some
singular table-rocks, and leaving the little village of _La Cueva del
Becerro_ on the left, reaches the _venta de Virlan_. We, however, had
inadvertently taken a track that, inclining slightly to the right, led
us into the bottom of the valley, and in about four miles (from the
pass) brought us to the miserable little village of _Serrato_. The
proper road, from which we had strayed, keeps along the side of the
hills, about half a mile off, on the left; and upon it, and three miles
from the first venta, is another, called _del Ciego_. Yet a little
further on, but situated on an elevated ridge overlooking the valley, is
the little town of _Cañete la Real_.
From Serrato our road led us to the old castle of Ortoyecar, ere
rejoining the direct route; which it eventually does, about a mile
before reaching the foot of the mountain of Teba.
This singular feature is connected by a very low pass with the chain of
sierra on the left, and, stretching from west to east about
three-quarters of a mile, terminates precipitously along the river
_Guadaljorce_. The road, crossing over the pass, and leaving on the
right a steep paved road, that zig-zags up the mountain, winds round to
the west, keeping under the precipitous sides of the ridge, and avoiding
the town of Teba, which, perched on the very summit, but having a
northern aspect, can only be seen when arrived at the north side of the
rude mound; and there another winding road offers the means of access to
the place.
The base of the mountain is, on this side, bathed by a little rivulet
that flows eastward to the Guadaljorce, called the _Sua de Teba_. It is
erroneously marked on the Spanish maps as running on the south side of
the ridge, but the only stream which is there to be met with, is a
little rivulet that takes its rise near Becerro and waters the valley by
which we had descended; and it does not approach within a mile of Teba,
but sweeps round to the eastward a little beyond the old castle of
Ortoyecar, and discharges itself into the river Ardales.
The deep-sunk banks and muddy bottom of the _Suda de Teba_, render it
impassable excepting at the bridge. This rickety structure is apparently
the same which existed in the time of Rocca, who, in his "Memoirs of the
War in Spain," gives a very spirited account of the military operations
of the French and _serranos_ in this neighbourhood.
The locality of Teba is most faithfully described by that author; indeed
I know no one who has given so graphic an account of this part of Spain
generally.
The ascent to the town on this (the northern) side, is yet more
difficult than that in the opposite direction; but the place will amply
repay the labour of a visit, for the view from it is extremely fine, and
the extensive ruins of its ancient defences, evidently of Roman
workmanship, are well worthy of observation.
The position of Teba, with reference to other places in the
neighbourhood, and to the circumjacent country, is so inaccurately given
in all maps which I have seen, that the antiquaries seem quite to have
overlooked it as the probable site of _Ategua_, so celebrated for its
obstinate defence against Julius Cæsar.
Morales--without the slightest grounds, as far as the description of the
country accords with the assumption--imagined _Ategua_ to have stood
where he maintains some ruins, "called by the country-people _Teba la
Vieja_," are to be seen between Castrò el Rio and Codoba; but, as I
pointed out in the case of Ronda, and Ronda _la Vieja_, it is absurd to
suppose that an _old Teba_ could ever have existed, since Teba itself is
a Roman town, and its present name a mere corruption of that which it
bore in times past.
Other Spanish authors place _Ategua_ at Castro el Rio, some at Baena,
some elsewhere; but almost all appear anxious to fix its site near the
river Guadajoz, which they have determined, in their own minds, must be
the _Salsus_ mentioned by Hirtius.
La Martinière, with his usual _inaccuracy_, says, that the Guadajoz
falls into the _Salado_: he should rather have said, that it is _formed_
from the confluence of _various salados_; for, as I have elsewhere
observed, salado is a general term for all water-courses, and not the
name of a river.[122]
It seems, however, probable, that the Romans gave the name _Salsus_ to
some river impregnated with salt, which many streams in this part of
Spain are; and since there is an extensive salt-lake still existing near
Alcaudete, on the very margin of the Guadajoz, that river has hastily
been concluded to be that of the Roman historian. But, it appears
strange, if the Guadajoz be the Salsus of Hirtius, that Pliny, when
describing the course of the Boetis, and the principal streams which
fell into it, should have omitted to mention that river, as being one of
its affluents; for the Salsus, from the recentness of the war between
Cæsar and the sons of Pompey, must have been much spoken of in Pliny's
time.
But what, to me, proves most satisfactorily that the _Guadajoz_ is _not_
the Salsus, is, that it so ill agrees with the minute description given
of the river by Hirtius himself;--for, in speaking of the Salsus he
says,[123] "It runs through the plains, and _divides_ them from the
mountains, which all lie upon the side of Ategua, at about two miles'
distance from the river;" and again, "But what proved principally
favourable to Pompey's design of drawing out the war, was the nature of
the country, (i. e. about Ategua) full of mountains, and extremely well
adapted to encampments;"[124] and, from what again follows, it is
evident that Ategua stood upon the summit of a mountain.
Now the Guadajoz nowhere runs so as to _divide_ the plains from the
mountains. It _issues from_ the mountains of Alcalà Real, many miles
before reaching Castrò el Rio, and between that last-named town and
Cordoba, there is no ground that can be called mountainous.
The country bordering the Guadajoz, in the lower part of its course,
differs as decidedly with the statement that the neighbourhood of Ategua
was "full of mountains," if we suppose the town to have stood anywhere
_below_ Castrò el Rio.
It is again improbable that Ategua could have stood on the site of the
supposed _Teba la Vieja_, or any place in that neighbourhood, since it
is mentioned[125] as being a great provision dépôt of the Pompeians;
which would scarcely have been the case had it been within twenty miles
of the city of Cordoba. And again, it is not likely that Cæsar would
have commenced the campaign by laying siege to a place within such a
short distance of Cordoba, since the invested town might so readily have
received succour from that city, and his adversary would, by such a
step, have had the advantage of combining all his forces to attack him
during the progress of the siege.
Again, another objection presents itself, namely, that Ategua is
represented as a particularly strong place,[126] which, from the nature
of the ground in that part of the country--that is, between Castrò el
Rio and Cordoba--no town could well have been; situation, rather than
art, constituting the strength of towns in those days.
We will now return to Teba, the locality of which agrees infinitely
better with the account of Ategua given by Hirtius, whilst the River
_Guadaljorce_, which flows in its vicinity, answers perfectly his
description of the Salsus; for, along its right bank a plain extends all
the way to the Genil; on its left, "at two miles' distance," rises a
wall of Sierra; and the whole country, beyond, is "full of mountains,
all lying on the side of" Teba. That is to say, the mountain range
continues in the same direction, and possesses the same marked
character, although the Guadaljorce breaks through it ere reaching so
far west as Teba; for, by a vagary of nature, this stream quits the wide
plain of the Genil to throw itself into a rocky gorge, and after
describing a very tortuous course, gains, at length, the vale of Malaga.
Now this very circumstance strikes me, on attentive consideration, as
tending rather to strengthen than otherwise the supposition that Teba
is Ategua; for Cæsar's army is not stated to have _crossed_ the Salsus
on its march from Cordoba to Ategua; from which we must conclude that
Ategua was on the _right_ bank of the river; whilst other circumstances
prove that the town was some distance from the river, and encompassed by
mountains.
Pompey, however, following Cæsar from Cordoba, and proceeding to the
relief of Ategua, _crosses the Salsus_, and fixes his camp "on these
mountains (i. e. the mountains 'which all lie on the side of Ategua')
between Ategua and Ucubis, but within sight of both places," being, as
is distinctly said afterwards, separated from his adversary by the
Salsus.
Thus, therefore, though his camp was on the same range of mountains as
Ategua, yet he was separated from that town by a river: a peculiarity,
in the formation of the ground, which suits the locality of Teba, but
would be difficult to make agree with any other place.
The only very apparent objection to this hypothesis is, that Cæsar's
cavalry is mentioned as having, on one occasion, pursued the foraging
parties of his adversary "almost to the very walls of Codoba." But this
was when Pompey (after his first failure to relieve Ategua) had drawn
off his army towards Cordoba. It does not follow, therefore, that
Cæsar's troops pursued his adversary's parties from Ategua, though he
was still besieging that place, but it may rather be supposed that his
cavalry was sent after the enemy to harass them on their march, and
watch their future movements.
One might, indeed, on equally good grounds, maintain that Ategua was
_within a day's march of Seville_; since, on Pompey's finally abandoning
the field, Hirtius says,[127] "the same day he decamped, (from Ucubis,
which was within sight of Ategua) and posted himself in an olive wood
over against Hispalis."
With respect to this knotty point of distance it is further to be
observed, that on Cæsar's breaking up his camp from before Cordoba, his
march is spoken of as being _towards_ Ategua, implying that the two
places did not lie within a day's march of each other; and the
supposition that they were more than a few leagues apart is strengthened
by the place, and order in which Ategua is mentioned by the methodical
Pliny; viz., amongst the cities lying between the Boetis and the
Mediterranean Sea, and next in succession to _Singili_,[128] which,
doubtless, was on the southern bank of the Genil, towards Antequera.
The Guadaljorce has as good claims to the name of _Salsus_, as any other
river in the country, since the mountains about Antequera, amongst
which it takes its rise, were in former days noted for the quantity of
salt they produced; and though the river Guadaljorce now carries its
name to the sea, yet, in the time of the Romans, such was not the case;
for, in those days, by whatever name that river may have been
distinguished, it was dropt on forming its junction with the Sigila,
(now the Rio Grande) in the _vega_ of Malaga, although, of the two, the
latter is the inferior stream.
The fort of Ucubis, stated by Hirtius to have been destroyed by Cæsar,
we may suppose stood on the side of the mountains overlooking the Salsus
or Guadaljorce, towards Antequera; and it does not seem improbable that
that city is the _Soricaria_ mentioned by the same historian; for
_Anticaria_, though noticed in the Itinerary of Antoninus, is not
amongst the cities of Boetica enumerated by Pliny.
Teba was taken from the Moors by Alphonso XI., A.D. 1340. The
inhabitants are a savage-looking tribe, and boast of having kept the
French at bay during the whole period of the "war of independence."[129]
There is a tolerable venta at the foot of the hill, near the bridge, at
which we baited our horses. The distance from Ronda to Teba is 21 miles;
from hence to Campillos is about six; the country is undulated, and
road good, crossing several brooks, some flowing eastward to the
Guadaljorce, others in the opposite direction to the Genil.
Campillos is situated at the commencement of a vast track of perfectly
level country, that extends all the way to the river Genil. By some
strange mistake it is laid down in the Spanish maps due east of Teba,
whereas it is nearly north. It is four leagues (or about seventeen
miles) from Antequera, and five leagues from Osuna. It is a neat town,
clean, and well-paved, and contains 1000 _vecinos escasos_;[130] which
may be reckoned at 5000 souls, six being the number usually calculated
per _vecino_.
Campillos lies just within the border of the kingdom of Seville, and
was, therefore, on forbidden ground; since, had we entered it, our clean
bills of health would have been thereby tainted. We were consequently
obliged to skirt round the town at a tether of several hundred yards. I
regretted this much, for the place contains an excellent _posada_,
bearing the--to Protestant ears--somewhat profane sign of "_Jesus
Nazarino_," and its keepers were old cronies of mine, our friendship
having commenced some years before under rather peculiar circumstances,
viz., in travelling from Antequera to Ronda, my horse met with an
accident which obliged me to halt for the night at Campillos. Leaving to
my servant the task of ordering dinner at the inn, I proceeded on foot
to examine the town, and gain, if possible, some elevated spot in its
vicinity whence I could obtain a good view of the country, being
desirous to correct the mistake before alluded to, in the relative
positions of Teba and Campillos on the maps.
Having found a point suited to this purpose, from whence I could see
both Teba and the _Peñon de los Enamorados_, (a remarkable conical
mountain near Antequera,) I drew forth a pocket surveying compass, and
took the bearings of those two points, as well as of several other
conspicuous objects in the neighbourhood.
These ill-understood proceedings caused the utmost astonishment to a
group of idlers, who, at a respectful distance, but with significant
nods and mysterious whisperings, were narrowly watching my operations.
These concluded, and the result of my observations committed to my
pocket-book, I took a slight outline sketch of the bold range of
mountains that stretches towards Granada, and returned to the inn.
On my first arrival there, I had merely addressed the usual compliment
of the country to the innkeeper and his wife, and now, repeating my
salutation to the lady--who only was present--I seated myself at the
fire-place of the common apartment, and began writing in my pocket-book,
replying very laconically to her various attempts at conversation; and
at length obtaining no immediate answer to another endeavour to _draw me
out_, she said, addressing herself, "_no entiende_,"[131] and offered no
further interruptions to my scribbling.
I confess to the practice of a little deceit in the matter, as my
answers certainly must have led her to believe that I was a very _tyro_
at the Spanish vocabulary--a fancy in which I used often to indulge the
natives when I wished to shirk conversation.
Soon afterwards the _Posadero_ came in, and a whispered communication
took place between him and his spouse, which gradually acquiring _tone_,
I at length was able to catch distinctly, and heard the following
conversation.
"You are quite certain he does not understand Spanish?" said mine host.
"Not a syllable," replied his helpmate.
"He is about no good here, wife, that I can tell you."
"There does not appear to be much mischief in him."
"We must not trust to looks; I was at the chapel of the Rosario just
now, and he walked up there, took an instrument from his pocket, marked
down all the principal points of the country, and then drew them in that
little book he is now writing in ... are you quite sure he does not
understand Spanish?--I observed him smile just now."
"_No tienes cuidado_,"[132] replied the wife; "I have tried him on all
points."
"Depend upon it he is _mapeando el pais_,"[133] resumed the husband.
"I think you ought forthwith to give notice of his doings to the
_Justicia_," answered the lady.
"Ay, and lose a good customer by having him taken to prison!" rejoined
the patriotic innkeeper; "time enough to do that in the morning after he
has paid his bill; but as to the propriety of giving information wife, I
agree with you perfectly."
"He must be one of the rascally _gavachos_ from Cadiz," (a French
garrison at this time occupied that fortress,) "but what right has he to
take his notes of our _pueblo_?[134] I thought of questioning the
servant, who does speak a few words of Spanish, before he took the
horses to the smithy, but Don Guillelmo came in and put it out of my
head. Suppose I make another attempt to find out from himself what
brings him here?"
"Do so," said her lord and master; and, with this permission, she
advanced towards me with a very gracious smile, and _articulating_ every
syllable most distinctly, in the hope of making her interrogation
perfectly intelligible, "begged to know if my worship was a Frenchman."
"_Yo_," said I, pointing to myself, as if I did not clearly understand
her; "_nix_."
"_Ingles?_" demanded she, returning to the charge.
"_Si_," replied I, with a nod affirmative.
"_Valga mi Dios!_" exclaimed she, turning to her husband; "he is
English! how delighted I am! what a time it is since I saw an
Englishman! how can we make him comfortable?"
"_Poco a poco_,"[135] observed the inn-keeper--"English or French he has
no business to be _mapeando_ our country, and the Alcalde ought to know
of it."
"_Disparate!_"[136] exclaimed the wife; "what does his _mapeando_
signify if he is an Englishman? are they not our best friends?[137] Is
it not the same as if a Spaniard were doing it, only that it will be
better done?"
"Very true," admitted mine host; "they have, indeed, been our friends,
and will soon again, I trust, give us a proof of their friendship, by
assisting to drive these French scoundrels across the Pyrenees, and
allowing us to settle our own differences."
Pocketing my memorandum book, I now rose from my seat and addressing the
landlady, "_con gentil donayre y talante_,"[138] as Don Quijote says,
asked, in the best Castillian I could put together, when it was probable
I should have dinner, as from having been the greater part of the
morning on horseback, I was not only very hungry, but should be glad to
retire early to my bed.
Never were two people more astonished than mine host and his spouse at
this address. Had I detected them in the act of pilfering my saddlebags,
they could not have looked more guilty. They offered a thousand
apologies, but seemed to think the greatest affront they had put upon me
was that of mistaking me for a Frenchman.
"I ought at once to have known you were no braggart _gavacho_," said the
landlord, "by your not making a noise on entering the house--calling for
every thing and abusing every body--How do you think one of these
gentry, who came into Spain as _friends_, to tranquillize the country,
behaved to our _Alcalde_? The Frenchman wanted a billet, and finding the
office shut, went to the _Alcalde's_ house for it. The _Alcalde_ was at
dinner with a couple of friends; he begged the officer to be seated,
saying he would send for the _Escribano_ and have a billet made out for
him--'And am I to be kept waiting for your clerk?' said the Frenchman;
'a pretty joke, indeed.' 'He will be here in an instant,' said the
_Alcalde_; 'pray have a little patience, and be seated.' 'Patience,
indeed!' exclaimed the other; 'make the billet out directly yourself, or
I'll pull the house about your ears.' '_Juicio!_ señor,' replied the
Mayor; 'do you not see that I am at dinner?' 'What are you at _now_?'
said the Frenchman; and, laying hold of one corner of the tablecloth, he
drew it, plates, dishes, glasses, and every thing, off the table. This
is the way our French _friends_ behave to us!"
I now satisfied the worthy couple that their fears of mischief arising
from my "_mapeando el pais_," were quite groundless; and mine host
showed great intelligence in comprehending what I wished to correct in
the Spanish map; the error in which he saw at once, when I pointed to
the setting sun; his wife standing by and exclaiming "_que gente tan
fina los Ingleses_!"[139]
No advantage was taken of the knowledge of _my_ country in making out
_the bill_, and I departed next morning with their prayers that I might
travel in company with all the saints in the calendar.
The direct road from Campillos to Cordoba is by way of La Rodd; but, in
the present instance, it was necessary to avoid that town, and proceed
to _La Fuente de Piedra_, which is situated a few miles to the eastward,
and without the sanitory circle drawn round the cholera.
The distance from Campillos to this place is two long leagues, which may
be reckoned nine miles.
_La Fuente de Piedra_ is a small village, of about sixty houses,
surrounded with olive-grounds, and abounding in crystal springs. The
medicinal virtues of one of these sources (which rises in the middle of
the place) led to the building of the village; and the painful disease
for which in especial this fountain is considered a sovereign cure, has
given its name to the place. We arrived very late in the evening, and
found the _posada_ most miserable.
On leaving _La Fuente de Piedra_ we took the road to _Puente Don
Gonzalo_, and at about three miles from the village crossed the great
road from Granada to Seville, which is practicable for carriages the
greater part, but _not all_ the way; a little beyond this the _Sierra de
Estepa_ rises on the left of the route, to the height of several hundred
feet above the plain. The town of Estepa is not seen, being on the
western side of the hill; it is supposed to be the Astapa of the
Romans, the horrible destruction of which is related by Livy.
The inhabitants, on the approach of Scipio, aware of the exasperated
feelings of the Romans towards them, piled all their valuables in the
centre of the forum, placed their wives and children upon the top, and
leaving a few of their young men to set fire to the pile in the event of
their defeat, rushed out upon the Roman army. They were all killed, the
pile was lighted, and a heap of ashes was the only trophy of their
conquerors.
The Roman historian says, the people of Astapa "delighted in robberies."
I wonder if he thought his countrymen exempt from similar propensities!
In three hours we reached Cazariche. The road merely skirts the village,
being separated from it by an abundant stream, which, serving to
irrigate numerous gardens and orchards, renders the last league of the
ride very agreeable, which otherwise, from the flatness of the country
to the eastward, would be uninteresting. This rivulet is called _La
Salada_; but its volume is far too small to make one suppose for a
moment that it is the _Salsus_.
At five miles from Cazariche, keeping along the left bank of the Salada
the whole distance, but not crossing it, as marked on the maps, the road
reaches Miragenil. This is a small village, situated on the southern
bank of the Genil, and communicating, by means of a bridge, with _Puente
Don Gonzalo_.
The river here forms the division between the kingdoms of Seville and
Cordoba; and the two governments not having agreed as to the superior
merits of wood or stone, one-half the bridge is built of the former, the
other half of the latter material.
Puente Don Gonzalo stands on a steep acclivity, commanding the bridge
and river. It is a town of some consideration, containing several
manufactories of household furniture, numerous mills, and a population
of 6000 souls.
Florez, on the authority of a _stone_ found _near_ Cazariche (which he
calls Casaliche), whereon the word VENTIPO was inscribed, supposed
_Ventisponte_,[140] to have been situated somewhere in the vicinity of
Puente Don Gonzalo. But if this stone had been _carried_ to Cazariche,
it may have been taken there from any other point of the compass as well
as from that in which Puente Don Gonzalo is situated.
Other authorities suppose this town to be on the site of Singilis; but
that place, as already stated, has been pretty clearly proved to have
been nearer Antequera.
The "_provechasos aguas del divino Genil_,"[141] after cleansing the
town of Puente Don Gonzalo, are turned to the best possible account, in
irrigating gardens and turning mill-wheels; and the road to Cordoba,
after proceeding for about a mile along the verdant valley that
stretches to the westward, ascends the somewhat steep bank which pens in
the stream to the north, and for four hours wanders over a flat
uninteresting country to Rambla; passing, in the whole distance of
fifteen miles, but two running streams, three farm-houses, and the
miserable village of Montalban. This latter is distant about a mile and
a half from Rambla.
We saw but little of this town, having arrived late at night, and
departed from it at an early hour on the following morning; but it is of
considerable size, and situated on the north side of a steep hill. We
found the inn excessively dirty and exorbitantly dear; indeed it may be
laid down as a general rule with Spanish as well as Swiss inns, that the
charges are high in proportion to the _badness_ of the fare and
accommodation.
The ground in the vicinity of Rambla is planted chiefly with vines, and
but two short leagues to the eastward is situated Montilla, where, in
the estimation of Spaniards, the best wine of the province is grown. It
is extremely dry; and, as I have mentioned before, gives its name to the
Sherry called _Amontillado_.
Rambla is just midway between Puente Don Gonzalo and Cordoba, viz.
sixteen miles from each. The country is hilly, and mostly under tillage,
but where its cultivators reside puzzles one to guess, as there is not a
house on the road in the whole distance, and but two towns visible from
it, viz. Montemayor and Fernan Nuñez, both within six miles of Rambla.
The first-named of these places disputes with Montilla the honour of
being the Roman city of _Ulía_, the only inland town of Boetica that
held out for Cæsar against the sons of Pompey, previous to his arrival
in the country.[142] It appears doubtful[143] whether _Ulía_ is
mentioned by Pliny, but it is noticed in the Roman Itinerary (_Gadibus
Cordubam_) as eighteen miles from Cordoba, a distance that agrees better
with Montilla than Montemayor; indeed the former almost declares itself
in the very name it yet bears, _Montilla_; the double _l_ in Spanish
having the liquid sound of _li_, making it a corruption of _Mont Ulía_.
At about four miles from Cordoba the Guadajoz, or river of Castro, is
crossed by fording, and between it and the Guadalquivír the ground is
broken by steep hills. The road falls into the _Arrecife_ from Seville,
on reaching the suburb on the left bank of the river.
We took up our abode at the _Posada de la Mesangería_; a particularly
comfortable house, as Spanish inns go, that had been opened for the
accommodation of the diligence travellers since my former visit to the
city. The _patio_, ornamented with a bubbling fountain of icy-cold
water, and shaded with a profusion of all sorts of rare creepers and
flowering shrubs, afforded a cool retreat at all hours of the day;
which, though we were in the month of October, was very acceptable.
Whilst seated at breakfast, under the colonnade that encompasses the
court, the morning after our arrival, the master of the inn waited upon
us to know if we required a _valet de place_ during our sojourn at
Cordoba, as a very intelligent old man, who spoke French like a native,
and was in the habit of attending upon _caballeros forasteros_[144] in
the above-named capacity, was then in the house, and begged to place his
services at our disposition.
I replied, that having before visited his city, I considered myself
sufficiently acquainted with its _sights_ to be able to dispense with
this, otherwise useful, personage's attendance; but our host seemed so
desirous that we should employ the old man, "We might have little
errands to send him upon--some purchases to make; in fact, we should
find the Tio Blas so useful in any capacity, and it would be such an
act of charity to employ him,"--that we finally acceded to his proposal,
and the _Tio_ was accordingly ushered in.
He was a tall, and, though emaciated, still erect old man, whose
tottering gait, and white and scanty hairs, would have led to the belief
that his years had already exceeded the number usually allotted to the
life of man, but that his deep-sunk eyes were shaded by dark and
beatling brows, and yet sparkled occasionally with the fire of youth;
proving that hardships and misfortunes had brought him somewhat
prematurely to the brink of the grave.
It struck me at the first glance that I had seen him before, but when,
and under what circumstances, I could not recall to my recollection.
After some conversation, as to what had been his former occupation, &c.,
he remarked, addressing himself to me, "I think, _Caballero_, that this
is not the first time we have met--many years have elapsed since--many
(to me) most eventful years, and they have wrought great changes in my
appearance. And, indeed, some little difference is perceptible also in
yours, for you were a mere boy then; but, still, time has not laid so
heavy a hand on you as on the worn-out person of him who stands before
you, and in whom you will, doubtless, have difficulty in recognizing the
reckless _Blas Maldonado_!"
Time had, indeed, effected great changes in him, morally as well as
physically; for not only had the powerful, well-built man, dwindled into
a tottering, emaciated driveller, but the daring, impious bandit, had
become a weak and superstitious dotard.
My curiosity strongly piqued to learn how changes so wonderful had been
brought about, we immediately engaged the _Tio_ to attend upon us; and,
during the few days circumstances compelled us to remain at Cordoba, I
elicited from him the following account of the events which had
chequered his extraordinary career since we had before met.