steep and savage hills, very dangerous for horses, and I had reason to
repent, before I got back to Cintra, that I had not mounted one of the
sure-footed mules of the country. I reached Mafra in safety; it is a
large village, which has by degrees sprung up in the vicinity of an
immense building, originally intended to serve as a convent and palace,
and which next to the Escurial is the most magnificent edifice in the
Peninsula. In this building is to be seen the finest library in
Portugal, comprising books in all sciences and languages, and which, if
not suited to the place in which the building stands, which is almost a
desert, is yet well suited to the size and grandeur of the building which
contains it. But here are now no monks to take care of it; they have
been driven forth, some of them to beg their bread, some of them to serve
under the banners of Don Carlos in Spain, and many, as I have been
informed, to prowl about as banditti. The place is now abandoned to two
or three menials, and exhibits an aspect of solitude and desolation which
is truly appalling. Whilst I was viewing the cloisters an exceedingly
fine and intelligent-looking lad came up to me, and asked (I suppose in
the hope of obtaining a trifle) if I would permit him to show me the
village church, which he told me was well worth seeing. I said 'No,' but
that if he would show me the village school, I should be much obliged to
him. He looked at me with astonishment, and assured me that there was
nothing to be seen in the school, at which not more than half a dozen
boys were instructed, and that he himself was one of the number; but I
told him that he should show me no other place, and he at last
unwillingly attended me. On the way he said that the schoolmaster was
one of the brothers of the convent who had lately been expelled, and that
he was a very learned man and spoke French and Greek. We went past a
stone cross, and the boy bent and crossed himself with much devotion: I
mention this circumstance, as it was the first instance of devotion which
I had observed amongst the Portuguese since my arrival. When near the
house where the schoolmaster resided, he pointed it out to me and then
hid himself behind a wall, where he waited till I returned.
On stepping over the threshold I was confronted by a short stout man,
between sixty and seventy years of age, dressed in a blue jerkin and grey
trousers, without shirt or waistcoat. He looked at me sternly, and
enquired in the French language what was my pleasure. I apologised for
intruding upon him, and stated that, being informed that he occupied the
situation of schoolmaster to the place, I had come to pay my respects to
him, and to beg to be informed respecting the manner of instruction which
he adopted. He said that whosoever told me that he was a schoolmaster
lied, for that he was a brother of the convent. I replied that I had
heard that all the friaries had been broken up and the brothers
dismissed; whereupon he sighed, and said it was too true. He was then
silent for a minute, and his better nature overcoming his angry feelings
he produced a snuff-box and offered it to me. The snuff-box is the
olive-branch of the Portuguese, and he who wishes to be on good terms
with them, or to conciliate them, must never refuse to put his finger and
thumb into it when preferred; I took therefore a large pinch, though I
detest the dust, and we were soon friendly enough. He was eager to
obtain news, especially from Lisbon and Spain. I told him that the
officers of the regiments at Lisbon had the day before I left that place
gone in a body to the Queen, and insisted upon her either receiving their
swords or dismissing her Ministers; whereupon he rubbed his hands and
said, 'I am sure that things will not remain tranquil at Lisbon.' Upon
my saying that the affairs of Don Carlos were on the decline, he frowned,
and said that it could not possibly be, for that God was too just to
suffer it. I felt for the poor man, who had been driven from his home in
the noble convent close by, and from a state of comfort and affluence
reduced in his old age to indigence and misery, for his dwelling seemed
to contain scarcely an article of furniture. I tried twice or thrice to
induce him to converse on the school, but he always avoided the subject
or said shortly that he knew nothing about it; the idea of being a
schoolmaster was evidently humiliating to him.
On my leaving him, the boy came from his hiding-place and rejoined me; he
said his reason for hiding himself was fear that his master might know
that it was he who brought me to him, for that the old man was ashamed of
appearing in the character of a schoolmaster. I asked the boy whether he
or his parents were acquainted with the Scripture and ever read it; but
he did not understand me. I must here observe that the boy was fifteen
years of age, and that he was in many respects very intelligent and had
some knowledge of the Latin language; nevertheless he knew not the
Scripture even by name, and I have no doubt that at least one half of his
countrymen are, in that respect, no wiser than himself. I have
questioned the children of Portugal at the doors of village inns, at the
hearths of their cottages, in the fields where they labour, at the stone
Mountains by the way-sides where they water their cattle, about the
Scripture, the Bible, the Old and New Testament, and in scarcely one
instance have they known what I was alluding to or could return me a
rational answer, though in all other instances I had no reason to
complain of their want of apprehension. Indeed nothing has surprised me
more than the free and unembarrassed manner with which the Portuguese
peasantry sustain a conversation, and the purity of the language in which
they express their thoughts; and yet very few of them can write or read,
whereas the peasantry of our own country, whose education is in general
much superior, are in their conversation coarse and dull almost to
brutality, and absurdly ungrammatical in the language which they use,
though the English tongue, upon the whole, is more simple in its grammar
than the Portuguese.
On my way back from Mafra to Cintra I very nearly lost my life. As the
night was closing in fast, we left the regular road by the advice of the
guide, and descending the hill on which Mafra stands reached the bottom
of the valley, from which there is a narrow pathway winding round the
next hill, exceedingly steep, with a precipice on the left side; the
horse on which I was mounted, and which was by no means suited for such
climbing, in his violent struggles to accomplish the ascent burst the
girth of the saddle, so that I was cast violently off, with the saddle
beneath me. Fortunately, I fell on the right side, or I should have
rolled down the hill and probably have been killed; as it was, I remained
stunned and senseless for two or three minutes, when I revived, and with
the assistance of the guide and the man who waits on me, walked up the
remaining part of the hill, when, the saddle being readjusted, I mounted
again. I was very drowsy and stupid for two or three days, from the
influence of the fall, but I am happy to say at present, thanks to the
Almighty, I have long ceased to feel any inconvenience from it.
On my return to Lisbon I saw Mr. Wilby, who received me with great
kindness; the next ten days were exceedingly rainy and prevented me from
making any excursions into the country, and during this time I saw him
frequently and had a good deal of conversation with him, concerning the
best means of causing God's glorious Gospel to be read in Portugal. He
informed me that four hundred copies of the Bible and New Testament were
arrived, and he thought that we could do no better than put them into the
hands of the booksellers; but I strongly advised that at least half of
them should be entrusted to colporteurs, to hawk about, upon receiving a
certain profit on every copy they sold. He thought the idea a good one,
as far as regards Lisbon, but said that no colporteur would venture to
carry them about the country, as the fanatical priests would probably
cause him to be assassinated. He was kind enough to promise to look out
for people suited to make the essay in the streets of Lisbon; and as the
lower orders are very poor I wrote to Mr. Whiteley at Oporto, requesting
to be informed whether he had any objection to our selling the books to
the populace at Lisbon at a lower price than a _cruzado novo_, which he
had determined to sell them at. I thought it but right to consult him on
the subject, as the Society are under great obligations to him; and I was
unwilling to do anything at which he could possibly take umbrage. During
one of my conversations with Mr. Wilby I enquired which was the province
of Portugal, the population of which he considered to be the most
ignorant and benighted: he replied, 'The Alemtejo.' The Alemtejo means
'the other side of the Tagus.' This province is not beautiful and
picturesque like the other portions of Portugal, it has few hills or
mountains; the greatest part of it consists of heaths, broken by knolls
and gloomy dingles, swamps, and forests of stunted pine. These places
are infested with banditti, and not a week passes by without horrible
murders and desperate robberies occurring. The principal town is Evora,
one of the most ancient cities in Portugal, and formerly the seat of an
Inquisition far more cruel and baneful than the terrible one of Lisbon.
Evora lies about sixty miles from the farther bank of the Tagus, which is
at Lisbon three leagues broad; and to Evora I determined on going with a
small cargo of Testaments and Bibles. My reasons I need not state, as
they must be manifest to every Christian; but I cannot help thinking that
it was the Lord who inspired me with the idea of going thither, as by so
doing I have introduced the Scriptures into the worst part of the
Peninsula, and have acquired lights and formed connections (some of the
latter most singular ones, I admit) which if turned to proper account
will wonderfully assist us in our object of making the heathen of
Portugal and Spain acquainted with God's holy word. My journey to Evora
and my success there shall be detailed in my next letter.
G. BORROW.
To the Rev. A. Brandram
(_Endorsed_: recd. Feb. 15, 1836)
Badajoz, _Janry._ 8, 1836.
JOURNEY TO EVORA
An Extract from My Journal
On the afternoon of the sixth of December I set out for this place,
accompanied by my servant Anthonio. I had been informed that the tide
would serve for the _felouks_, or passage-boats, employed in crossing the
Tagus, at about four o'clock, but on reaching the river's side opposite
Aldea Gallega, between which place and Lisbon they ply, I found that the
tide would not permit them to start before eight o'clock. Had I waited
for them I should probably have landed at Aldea Gallega at midnight, and
I felt little inclination to make my _entree_ in the Alemtejo at that
hour; therefore as I saw small boats which can push off at any time lying
near in abundance, I determined upon hiring one of them for the passage,
though the expense would be thus considerably increased. I soon agreed
with a wild-looking lad to take us over, who told me that he was in part
owner of one of the boats. I was not aware of the danger in crossing the
Tagus at any time in these small boats at its broadest part, which is
between Lisbon and Aldea Gallega, but especially at close of day in the
winter season, or I should certainly not have ventured. The lad and his
comrade, a miserable object, whose only clothing, notwithstanding the
severity of the weather, was a battered jerkin and trousers, rowed until
we had advanced about half a mile from the land; they then hoisted a
large sail, and the lad, who seemed to be the principal and to direct
everything, took the helm and steered. The evening was now setting in;
the sun was not far from its bourne in the horizon, the air was very
cold, the wind was rising, and the waves of the noble Tagus began to be
crested with foam. I told the boy that it was scarcely possible for the
boat to carry so much sail without upsetting; upon which he laughed, and
began to gabble in a most incoherent manner. He had the most harsh and
rapid articulation that has ever come under my observation; it was the
scream of the hyena blended with the bark of the terrier; but it was by
no means an index of his disposition, which I soon found to be light,
merry, and anything but malevolent; for when I, in order to show him that
I cared little about him, began to hum: '_Eu que sou contrabandista_'
('I, who am a smuggler'), he laughed heartily, and clapping me on the
shoulder said that he would not drown us if he could help it. The other
poor fellow seemed by no means averse to go to the bottom; he sat at the
forepart of the boat looking the image of famine, and only smiled when
the waters broke over the side and drenched his scanty clothing. In a
little time I had made up my mind that our last hour was come; the wind
was becoming higher, the short dangerous waves were more foamy, the boat
was frequently on its beam-ends, and the water came over the lee side in
torrents; but still the wild lad at the helm held on, laughing and
chattering, and occasionally yelling out parts of the Miguelite air
'_Quando el Rey chegou_' ['When the King arrived'], the singing of which
in Lisbon is punished with imprisonment. The stream was against us, but
the wind was in our favour, and we sprang along at a wonderful rate. I
saw that our only chance of escape was in speedily getting under the
shelter of that part of the farther bank of the Tagus, where the bight or
bay commences at the extremity of which stands Aldea Gallega, as we
should not then have to battle with the waves of the adverse stream,
which the wind lashed into fury. It was the will of the Almighty to
permit us speedily to gain this shelter, but not before the boat was
nearly filled with water, and we were all wet to the skin. At about
seven o'clock in the evening we reached Aldea Gallega, shivering with
cold and in a most deplorable plight.
Aldea Gallega, or the Galician Village, for the two words have that
signification, is a place containing, I should think, about four thousand
inhabitants. It was pitchy dark when we landed, but rockets soon began
to fly about in all directions, illumining the air far and wide. As we
passed along the dirty unpaved street which leads to the _Largo_ or
square in which the town is situated, a horrible uproar of drums and
voices assailed our ears. On enquiring the cause of all this bustle, I
was informed that it was the Eve of the Conception of the Blessed Virgin.
As it was not the custom of the people of the inn to provide provisions
for the guests, I wandered about in search of food, and at last seeing
some soldiers eating and drinking in a sort of wine-house, I went in and
asked the people to let me have some supper. In a short time they
furnished me with a tolerable meal, for which, however, they charged two
crowns.
Having engaged with a person for mules to carry us to Evora, which were
to be ready at five next morning, I soon retired to bed, my servant
sleeping in the same apartment, which was the only one in the house
vacant. I closed not an eye during the whole night; beneath us was a
stable in which some _almocreves_, or carriers, slept with their mules,
and at our back in the yard was a hog-stye. How could I sleep? The hogs
grunted; the mules screamed; and the _almocreves_ snored most horribly.
I heard the village clock strike the hours until midnight, and from
midnight till four in the morning, when I sprang up and began to dress,
and despatched my servant to hasten the man with his mules, for I was
heartily tired of the place, and wished to leave it.
An old man, but remarkably bony and hale, accompanied by a bare-footed
lad, brought the beasts. He was the proprietor of them, and intended to
accompany us to Evora with the lad, who was his nephew. When we started
the moon was shining brightly, and the morning was piercingly cold. We
soon entered a sandy, hollow way, emerging from which we passed by a
large edifice, standing on a high, bleak sand-hill, on our left. We were
speedily overtaken by five or six men on horseback, riding at a rapid
pace, each with a long gun slung at his saddle, the muzzle depending
about two feet below the horses belly. I questioned the old man as to
the cause of their going thus armed; he answered that the roads were very
bad (meaning that they abounded with robbers), and that these people
carried arms for their defence. They soon turned off to the right
towards Palmella.
We reached a sandy plain studded with stunted pine; the road was little
more than a footpath, and as we proceeded the trees thickened and became
a wood, which extended for two leagues with clear spaces at intervals, in
which herds of cattle and sheep were feeding. The sun was just beginning
to show itself, but the morning was misty and dreary, which together with
the aspect of desolation which the country exhibited had an unfavourable
effect on my spirits. I got down and walked, entering into conversation
with the man. He seemed to have but one theme of conversation, 'the
robbers' and the atrocities they were in the habit of practising in the
very spots we were passing. The tales he related were truly horrible,
and to avoid them I mounted again and rode on considerably in front.
In about an hour and a half we emerged from the forest and entered upon
wild broken ground covered with _mato_ or brushwood. The mules stopped
to drink at a shallow pool, and on looking to the right I saw a ruined
wall. This, the guide informed me, was the remains of the Vendal Velhas,
or the old inn, formerly the haunt of the celebrated robber Sabocha.
This Sabocha, it seems, had, about sixteen years since, a band of forty
ruffians at his command, who infested these wilds, and supported
themselves by plunder. For a considerable time Sabocha pursued his
atrocious trade unsuspected, and many an unfortunate traveller was
murdered, in the dead of night, at the solitary inn by the wood's side,
which he kept; indeed a more fit situation for plunder and murder I never
saw. The gang were in the habit of watering their horses at the pool,
and perhaps of washing therein their hands stained with the blood of
their victims. The brother of Sabocha was the lieutenant of the troop, a
fellow of great strength and ferocity, particularly famous for the skill
he possessed in darting a long knife and transfixing his opponents.
Sabocha's connection with the gang at last became known, and he fled with
the greatest part of his associates across the Tagus, to the northern
provinces. He and his brother eventually lost their lives on the road to
Coimbra, in an engagement with the military. His house was razed by
order of the Government.
The ruins of this house are still frequently visited by banditti, who eat
and drink amongst the stones and look out for prey, as the place commands
a view of the road. The old man assured me that about two months
previous, on returning from Aldea Gallega with his mules from
accompanying some travellers, he had been knocked down, stript naked, and
had all his money taken from him, by a fellow who, he believed, came from
this murderers' nest. He said that he was an exceedingly powerful young
man with immense moustaches and whiskers, and was armed with an
_espingarda_ or musket. About ten days subsequently he saw the robber at
Vendas Novas, where we were to pass the night. The fellow on recognising
him took him aside and threatened, with horrid imprecations, that he
should never be permitted to return home if he attempted to discover him;
he therefore held his peace, as he said there was little to be gained and
everything to be lost by apprehending him, as he would have been speedily
set at liberty for want of evidence to criminate him, and then he would
not have failed to have his revenge, or would have been anticipated
therein by his comrades.
I dismounted and went up to the place, and saw the vestiges of a fire and
a broken bottle. The sons of plunder had been there very lately. I left
a New Testament and some tracts amongst the ruins, and hastened away.
The sun had dispelled the mists and was beaming very hot; we rode on for
about an hour, when I heard the neighing of a horse in our rear, and our
guide said that there was a party of horsemen behind. Our mules were
good, and they did not overtake us for at least twenty minutes. The
foremost rider was a gentleman in a fashionable travelling dress; a
little way behind were an officer, two soldiers, and a servant in livery.
I heard the principal horseman, on overtaking Anthonio, enquiring who I
was, and whether I was French or English. He was told I was an English
gentleman, travelling. He then asked whether I understood Portuguese;
the man said I understood it, but that he believed I spoke French and
Italian better. The gentleman then spurred on his horse and accosted me,
not in Portuguese, or in French, or Italian, but in the purest English
that I have ever heard spoken by a foreigner. It had indeed nothing of
foreign accent or pronunciation in it, and had I not known by the
countenance of the speaker that he was no Englishman (for there is a
peculiarity in the English countenance which, though it cannot be
described, is sure to betray the Englishman), I should have concluded
that I was conversing with a countryman. He continued in company and
discourse until we arrived at Pegoens.
Pegoens consists of about two or three houses and an inn; there is
likewise a species of barrack, where half a dozen soldiers are stationed.
In the whole of Portugal there is no place of worse reputation, and the
inn is nicknamed _Estalagem de Ladroens_, or the hostelry of thieves; for
it is there that the banditti of the wilderness, which extends around it
on every side for leagues, are in the habit of coming and spending the
fruits of their criminal daring; there they dance and sing, feast on
fricasseed rabbits and olives, and drink the muddy but strong wine of the
Alemtejo. An enormous fire, fed by the trunk of a cork-tree, was blazing
in a niche on the left hand on entering the spacious kitchen; by it,
seething, were several large jars, which emitted no disagreeable odour,
and reminded me that I had not yet broken my fast, although it was now
nearly one o'clock and I had ridden five leagues. Some wild-looking men,
who, if they were not banditti, might easily be mistaken for such, were
seated on logs about the fire; I asked them some unimportant question, to
which they replied with readiness and civility, and one of them, who said
he could read, accepted a tract which I offered him.
My new friend, who had been bespeaking dinner, or rather breakfast, now
with great civility invited me to partake of it, and at the same time
introduced me to the officer who accompanied him, and who was his
brother, and also spoke English, though not so well as himself. I found
I had become acquainted with Don Geronimo Joze d'Azveto, Secretary to the
Government at Evora. His brother belonged to a regiment of hussars,
whose headquarters were at Evora, but which had outlying parties along
the road; for example, at the place where we were stopping. Rabbits at
Pegoens seem to be a standard article of food, being produced in
abundance on the moors around. We had one fricasseed, the gravy of which
was delicious; and afterwards a roasted one, which was brought up on a
dish entire. The hostess having first washed her hands proceeded to tear
the animal to pieces, which having accomplished she poured over the
fragments a sweet sauce. I ate remarkably heartily of both dishes,
particularly of the last, owing perhaps to the novel and curious manner
in which it was served up. Excellent figs from the Algarves and apples
completed our repast, which we ate in a little side room with a
mud-floor, which sent such a piercing chill into my system as prevented
me from deriving that pleasure from my good fare and agreeable companions
which I might otherwise have experienced. Don Joze d'Azveto had been
educated in England, in which country he passed his boyhood, which to a
certain degree accounted for his proficiency in the English language, the
idioms and pronunciation of which can only be acquired by a residence in
the country at that period of one's life. He had also fled thither
shortly after the usurpation of the throne of Portugal by Don Miguel, and
from thence had passed over to the Brazils, where he had devoted himself
to the service of Don Pedro, and had followed him in that expedition
which terminated in the downfall of the Usurper and the establishment of
the constitutional government in Portugal. Our conversation rolled
chiefly on literary and political subjects, and my acquaintance with the
writings of the most celebrated authors of Portugal was hailed with
surprise and delight; for nothing is more gratifying to a well-educated
Portuguese than to observe a foreigner taking an interest in the
literature of his nation, of which he is so justly proud.