through a country exactly resembling that which we had previously been
traversing, rugged and broken, with here and there a clump of pines. The
afternoon was exceedingly fine, and the bright rays of the sun relieved
the desolation of the scene. Having advanced about two leagues, I caught
sight of a large edifice in the distance, which I learnt was a royal
palace, standing at the farther extremity of Vendas Novas, the village
where we were to halt. It was considerably more than a league from us,
yet, seen through the clear transparent atmosphere of Portugal, it
appeared much nearer. Before reaching it, we passed by a stone cross, on
the pedestal of which was an inscription commemorating a horrible murder
of a native of Lisbon, which had been perpetrated on that spot. It
looked ancient, and was covered with moss, and the greatest part of the
inscription was illegible, at least it was to me, who could not bestow
much time on the deciphering of it.
Having arrived at Vendas Novas and bespoke supper, my new friends and
myself strolled forth to view the palace. It was built by the late King
of Portugal, and presents little that is remarkable in its exterior. It
is a long edifice with wings, and is only two stories high, though it can
be seen afar, owing to its being situated on elevated ground. It has
fifteen windows in the upper and twelve in the lower story, with a
paltry-looking door something like that of a barn, the ascent to which is
by a single step. The interior corresponds with the exterior, offering
nothing which can gratify curiosity, if we except the kitchens, which are
indeed magnificent, and so large that food enough might be prepared in
them to serve as a repast to all the inhabitants of the Alemtejo. I
passed the night with great comfort in a clean bed, remote from all those
noises in general so rife in a Portuguese inn, and the next morning at
six we again set out on our journey, which we hoped to terminate before
sunset, as Evora is but ten leagues from Vendas Novas. The preceding
morning had been cold, but the present one was far more, so much so that
just before sunrise I could no longer support it whilst riding, and
therefore dismounting ran and walked until we reached a few houses, at
the termination of these desolate moors. It was in one of these houses
that the commissioners of Don Pedro and Miguel met, and it was there
agreed that the latter should resign the crown in favour of Donna Maria;
for Evora was the last stronghold of the Usurper, and the moors of the
Alemtejo the last area of the combats which so long agitated unhappy
Portugal. I therefore gazed on the miserable huts with considerable
interest, and did not fail to scatter in the neighbourhood several of the
precious little tracts with which, together with a small quantity of
Bibles, my carpet-bag was provided.
The country began to improve, the savage heaths were left behind, and we
saw hills and dales, cork-trees and _azineirias_, on the last of which
trees grows that kind of sweet acorn called _bolota_, which is pleasant
as a chestnut, and forms in winter the principal food on which the
numerous swine of the Alemtejo subsist. Gallant swine they are, with
short legs and portly bodies, of a black or dark-red colour, and for the
excellence of their flesh I can avouch, having frequently partaken of it
in the course of my wanderings in this province. The _lumbo_, or loin,
when broiled on the live embers, is delicious, especially when eaten with
olives.
We were now in sight of Monte Moro, which as the name denotes was once a
fortress of the Moors; it is a high, steep hill, on the summit and sides
of which are ruined walls and towers. At its western side is a deep
ravine or valley, through which a small stream rushes, traversed by a
stone bridge; farther down there is a ford, through which we passed and
ascended to the town, which commencing near the northern base, passes
over the lower ridge towards the north-east; the town is exceedingly
picturesque, and many of the houses are very ancient and built in the
Moorish fashion. I wished much to examine the relics of Moorish sway on
the upper part of the mountain, but time pressed, and the shortness of
our stay in this place did not permit me to gratify my inclination.
Monte Moro is the head of a range of hills crossing this part of the
Alemtejo, and from hence they fork towards the east and south-east, in
the former of which directions lies the direct road to Elvas, Badajoz,
and Madrid, and in the latter the road to Evora. A beautiful mountain,
covered to the top with cork trees, is the third in the chain which
skirts the way in the direction of Evora. It is called Monte Almo; a
brook brawls at its base, and as I passed it the sun was shining
gloriously on the green herbage, on which flocks of goats were feeding
with their bells ringing merrily, so that the _tout ensemble_ resembled a
fairy scene; and that nothing might be wanted to complete the picture, I
here met a man, a goat-herd, beneath an _azineiria_ whose appearance
recalled to my mind the Brute-man mentioned in an ancient Danish poem:
'A wild swine on his shoulders he kept,
And upon his bosom a black bear slept,
And about his fingers with hair o'erhung
The squirrel sported and weasel clung.'
Upon the shoulders of the goat-herd was a beast, which he told me was a
_lontra_ or otter, which he had lately caught in the neighbouring brook,
it had a string round its neck which was attached to his arm; at his left
side was a bag from the top of which peeped the heads of two or three
singular-looking animals; and beside him was squatted the sullen cub of a
wolf, which he was endeavouring to tame. His whole appearance was to the
last degree savage and wild. After a little conversation, such as those
who meet on the road frequently hold, I asked him if he could read; but
he made no answer. I then enquired if he knew anything of God or Jesus
Christ; he looked me fixedly in the face for a moment, and then turned
his countenance towards the sun which was beginning to sink, nodded to
it, and then again looked fixedly upon me. I believed I understood this
mute reply, which probably was, that it was God who made that glorious
light which illumines and gladdens all creation; and gratified with this
belief I left him, and hastened after my companions who were, by this
time, a considerable way in advance.
I have always found amongst the children of the fields a more determined
tendency to religion and piety than amongst the inhabitants of towns and
cities, and the reason is obvious; they are less acquainted with the
works of man's hands than with those of God; their occupations are
simple, and requiring less of ingenuity and skill than those which engage
the intention of the other portion of their fellow-creatures, are less
favourable to the engendering of self-conceit and sufficiency, so utterly
at variance with that lowliness of spirit which constitutes the best test
of piety. The sneerers and scoffers at religion do not spring from
amongst the simple children of nature, but are the excrescences of
overwrought refinement, and though their baneful influence has indeed
penetrated to the country and corrupted many there, the fountain-head was
amongst crowded houses where nature is scarcely known. I am not one of
those who look for perfection amongst the rural population of any
country; perfection is not to be found amongst the children of the fall,
be their abode where it may; but until the heart disbelieve the existence
of a God, there is still hope for the possessor, however stained with
crime he may be, for even Simon the Magician was converted. But when the
heart is once steeled with infidelity, infidelity confirmed by carnal
reasoning, an exuberance of the grace of God is required to melt it,
which is seldom or never manifested; for we read in the blessed book that
the Pharisee and the Wizard became receptacles of grace, but where is
mention made of the conversion of the sneering Sadducee? and is the
modern infidel aught but a Sadducee of later date?
_To be continued_.
To the Rev. Andrew Brandram
(_Endorsed_: recd. Feb. 29th, 1836)
_Journal continued_
BADAJOZ, 10th _January_ 1836.
The night had closed in before we reached Evora, and having taken leave
of my friends, who kindly requested me to consider their house my home,
myself and my little party proceeded to the Largo de San Francisco, where
was a hostelry, which the muleteer informed me was the best in the town.
We rode into the kitchen, at the extreme end of which was the stable, as
is customary in Portugal. The house was kept by an aged gypsy-like
female and her daughter, a fine blooming girl about eighteen years of
age. The house was large; in the upper story was a very long room, like
a granary, extending nearly the whole length of the house; the further
end was partitioned off, and formed a tolerably comfortable chamber, but
rather cold, the floor being of tiles, as was that of the large room in
which the muleteers were accustomed to sleep on the furniture of their
mules. Having supped I went to bed, and after having offered up my
devotions to Him who had protected me through a dangerous journey, I
slept soundly till the morning.
Evora is a walled town, but not regularly fortified, and could not
sustain a siege of a day. It has five gates; before that to the
south-west is the principal promenade of the inhabitants; the fair on St.
John's Day is likewise held there. The houses are mostly very ancient;
many of them are unoccupied. It contains about five thousand
inhabitants, though twice that number would be by no means
disproportionate to its size. The two principal edifices are the See or
Bishop's Palace, and the Convent of San Francisco, opposite to which I
had taken up my abode. A large barrack for cavalry stands on the
right-hand side on entering the south-west gate. The adjacent country is
uninteresting; but to the south-east, at the distance of six leagues, is
to be seen a range of blue hills, the highest of which is called Serra
Dorso. It is picturesquely beautiful, and contains within its recesses
wolves and wild boars in numbers. About a league and a half on the other
side of this hill is Estremoz.
I passed the day succeeding my arrival principally in examining the town
and its environs, and as I strolled about I entered into conversation
with various people that I met. Several of these were of the middle
classes, shopkeepers and professional men; they were all
Constitutionalists, or pretended to be so, but had very little to say,
except a few commonplace remarks on the way of living of the friars,
their hypocrisy and laziness. I endeavoured to obtain some information
respecting the state of instruction at Evora, and from their replies was
led to believe that it must be very low, for it seemed that there was
neither book-shop nor school in the place. When I spoke of religion,
they exhibited the utmost apathy, and making their bows left me as soon
as possible. Having a letter of introduction to a person who kept a shop
in the market-place, I called upon him, found him behind his counter and
delivered it to him. I found that he had been persecuted much whilst the
old system was in its vigour, and that he entertained a hearty aversion
to it. I told him that the nurse of that system had been the ignorance
of the people in religious matters, and that the surest means to prevent
its return was to enlighten them in those points. I added that I had
brought with me to Evora a small stock of Testaments and Bibles, which I
wished to leave for sale in the hands of some respectable merchant, and
that if he were desirous to lay the axe to the root of superstition and
tyranny he could not do so more effectually than by undertaking the
charge of these books. He declared his willingness to do so, and that
same evening I sent him ten Testaments and a Bible, being half my stock.
I returned to the hostelry, and sat down on a log of wood on the hearth
within the immense chimney in the common apartment. Two men were on
their knees on the stones; before them was a large heap of pieces of
iron, brass, and copper; they were assorting it and stowing it away in
various large bags. They were Spanish _contrabandistas_, or smugglers of
the lowest class, and earned a miserable livelihood by smuggling such
rubbish from Portugal into Spain. Not a word proceeded from their lips,
and when I addressed them in their native language they returned no
answer but a kind of growl. They looked as dirty and rusty as the iron
in which they trafficked. The woman of the house and her daughter were
exceedingly civil, and coming near to me crouched down, asking various
questions about England. A man dressed something like an English sailor,
who sat on the other side of the hearth, confronting me, said: 'I hate
the English, for they are not baptized, and have not the law' (meaning
the law of God). I laughed, and told him, that according to the law of
England no one who was not baptized could be buried in consecrated
ground; whereupon he said; 'Then you are stricter than we.' He then
asked: 'What is meant by the lion and the unicorn which I saw the other
day on the coat of arms over the door of the English consul at St. Uves?'
I said that they were the arms of England. 'Yes,' he replied; 'but what
do they represent?' I said I did not know. 'Then,' said he, 'you do not
know the story of your own house.' I answered: 'Suppose I were to tell
you that they represented the lion of Belem (Bethlehem) and the horned
monster of the flaming pit in combat as to which should obtain the
mastery in England, what would you say?' He replied: 'I should say that
you gave a fair answer.' This man and myself became great friends; he
came from Palmella, not far from St. Uves; he had several mules and
horses with him, and dealt in corn and barley.
I again walked out in the environs of the town. About half a mile from
the southern wall is a stone fountain, where the muleteers and other
people approaching the town are accustomed to water their cattle. I sat
down by it, and there I remained about two hours, entering into discourse
with every one who halted at the fountain; and I will here observe that
during the time of my sojourn at Evora I repeated my visit every day, and
remained there about the same time, and by following this plan I believe
that I spoke to near two hundred of the children of Portugal upon matters
connected with their eternal welfare. Of those whom I addressed I found
very few had received any species of literary education; none of them had
seen the Bible, and not more than half a dozen had the slightest
knowledge of what the Holy Book consisted. I found that most of them
were bigoted Romanists and Miguelites at heart. When they told me they
were Christians, I denied the possibility of their being so, as they were
ignorant of Christ and His commandments, and rested their hope of
salvation in outward forms and superstitious observances which were the
inventions of Satan, who wished to keep them in darkness in order that at
last they might stumble into the pit which he had digged for them. I
said repeatedly that the Pope whom they revered was a deceiver and the
prime minister of Satan here on earth, and that the monks and friars, to
whom they had been accustomed to confess themselves, and whose absence
they so deplored, were his subordinate agents. When called upon for
proofs, I invariably cited the ignorance of my hearers respecting the
Scripture, and said that if their spiritual guides had been really
ministers of Christ they would not have permitted their flocks to remain
unacquainted with His word. Since this occasion I have been frequently
surprised that I received no insult or ill-treatment from the people
whose superstitions I was thus attacking, but I really experienced none;
and am inclined to believe that the utter fearlessness which I displayed,
trusting in the protection of the Almighty, may have been the cause.
When threatened by danger the best policy is to fix your eye steadily
upon it, and it will in general vanish like the morning mist before the
sun; whereas if you quail before it, it becomes more imminent. I have
fervent hope that the words which I uttered sunk deep into the hearts of
some of my hearers, as I observed many of them depart musing and pensive.
I occasionally distributed tracts among them, for although they
themselves were unable to turn them to much account, I thought that by
their means they might become of service at some future time, and might
fall into the hands of others to whom they might be instruments of
regeneration; as many a book which is cast on the waters is wafted to
some remote shore, and there proves a blessing and a comfort to millions
who are ignorant from whence it came.
The next day, which was Friday, I called at the house of my friend
Azveto; I did not find him there, but was directed to the Episcopal
Palace, in an apartment of which I found him writing with another
gentleman, to whom he introduced me. It was the Governor of Evora, who
welcomed me with every mark of kindness and affability. After some
discourse we went out together to examine an ancient edifice, which was
reported to have served in ancient times as a temple to Diana. Part of
it was evidently of Roman architecture, for there was no mistaking the
beautiful light pillars which supported a dome, under which the
sacrifices to the most captivating and poetical divinity of the heathen
Theocracy had probably been made; but the original space between the
pillars had been filled up with rubbish of a modern date, and the rest of
the building was apparently of the architecture of the latter end of the
middle ages. It is situated at one end of the building which was once
the seat of the Inquisition, and I was informed that before the erection
of the present See, it served as the residence of the Bishop.
Within the See, where the Governor now resides, is a superb library,
occupying an immense vaulted room, like the aisle of a cathedral, and in
a side apartment is a collection of pictures by Portuguese artists,
chiefly portraits, amongst which is that of Don Sebastian. I hope it did
not do him justice; for it represents him in the shape of an awkward lad,
of about eighteen, with staring eyes and a bloated booby face, and
wearing a ruff round a short apoplectic neck.
I was shown several beautifully illuminated missals and other
manuscripts, but the one which most arrested my attention, I scarcely
need say why, bore the following title:--
_Forma sive ordinatio Capelli illustrissimi et xtianissimi principis
Henrici sexti Regis Anglie et Francie am diu Hibernie descipta serenissio
principi Alfonso Regi Portugalie illustri per humilem servitorem sm Willm
Sav Decanum capelli supradicti_.
It seemed a voice from the olden times of my dear native land. This
library and picture-gallery had been formed by one of the latter Bishops,
a person of commendable learning and piety.
In the evening I dined with Don Joze d'Azveto and his brother; the latter
soon left us, in order to attend to his military duties. My friend and
myself had then much conversation of considerable interest. He lamented
feelingly the deplorable state of ignorance in which his countrymen were
at present buried, and said that his friend the Governor and himself were
endeavouring to establish a school in the vicinity, and that they had
made application to the Government for the use of an empty convent called
the _Espinhero_, or thorn-tree, at about a league's distance, and that
they had little doubt of their request being complied with. I had before
told him who I was; and now, after expressing my joy at the plan which he
had in contemplation, I urged him in the most pressing manner to use all
his influence to cause the knowledge of the Scripture to be the basis of
the education of the pupils in the intended school, and added that half
of the Testaments and Bibles which I had brought with me to Evora were
heartily at his service. He instantly gave me his hand, [and] said he
accepted my offer with the greatest pleasure, and would do all in his
power to further my views, which were in many respects his own. I now
told him that I did not come to Portugal with the view of introducing the
dogmas of any particular sect, but with the hope of introducing the
Bible, which is the well-head of all that is useful and conducive to the
happiness of society and individuals; that I cared not what people called
themselves, provided they read the Scripture, for that where the
Scripture was read neither priestcraft nor tyranny could long exist; and
instanced my own country, the cause of whose freedom and happiness was
the Bible, and that only, for that before the days of Tyndal it was the
seat of ignorance, oppression, and cruelty, and that after the fall of
ignorance, the oppression and cruelty soon ceased, for that the last
persecutor of the Bible, the last upholder of ignorance--_the bloody and
infamous Mary_--was the last tyrant who had sat on the throne of England.
We did not part till the night was considerably advanced; and the next
day I sent him the books, in the steadfast hope that a bright and
glorious morning was about to rise upon the night which had so long cast
its dreary shadow over the regions of the Alemtejo.
The day after this interesting event, which was Saturday, I had more
conversation with the man from Palmella. I asked him if in his journeys
he had never been attacked by robbers; he answered 'No,' for that he
generally travelled in company with others; 'however,' said he, 'were I
alone I should have little fear, for I am well protected.' I said that I
supposed he carried arms with him. 'No other arms than this,' said he,
and he pulled out a long, desperate-looking knife of English manufacture,
like that with which every Portuguese peasant is provided, and which I
should consider a far more efficient weapon than a dagger. 'But,' said
he, 'I do not place much confidence in the knife.' I then enquired in
what were his hopes of protection. 'In this,' he replied; and
unbuttoning his waistcoat he showed me a small bag, attached to his neck
by a silken string. 'In this bag is an _oracam_ (or prayer), written by
a person of power; and as long as I carry it about me no ill can befall
me.' Curiosity is one of the leading features of my character, and I
instantly said that to be allowed to read the prayer would give me great
pleasure. 'Well,' he replied, 'you are my friend, and I would do for you
what I would do for few others. I will show it you.' He then asked me
for my penknife and proceeded to unrip the bag, and took out of it a
large piece of paper closely folded up. I hurried with it to my chamber,
and commenced the examination of it. It was scrawled over in a very
illegible hand, and was moreover much stained with perspiration, so that
I had considerable difficulty in making myself master of its contents;
but at last I accomplished the following literal translation of the
charm, which was written in bad Portuguese, but which struck me at the
time as being the most remarkable composition I had ever seen.
The Charm
'Just Judge and divine Son of the Virgin Maria, who wast born at
Bethlehem, a Nazarene, and who wast crucified in the midst of all
Jewry! I beseech Thee, O Lord, by virtue of Thy sixth day {137} that
the body of me, Francisco, be not caught nor put to death by the
hands of Justice! Pazes teco (pax tecum), pazes Cristo. May you
receive peace, said Christ to His disciples. If the accursed Justice
should distrust me, or have its eye on me, in order to take me, or to
rob me, may it have an eye which shall not see me; may it have a
mouth which shall not speak to me; may it have an ear which shall not
hear me; may it have a hand which shall not seize me; may it have a
foot which shall not overtake me; for may I be armed with the arms of
Saint George; may I be covered with the cloak of Abraham; and
embarked in the ark of Noah; so that it can neither see me, nor hear
me, nor draw the blood from my body! I also conjure Thee, O Lord, by
those three blessed crosses--by those three blessed chalices--by
those three blessed clergymen--by those three consecrated hosts, that
Thou give me that sweet company which Thou gavest the Virgin Maria,
from the gates of Bethlehem even unto the portals of Jerusalem, that
I may go and come with peace and joy with Jesus Christ, Son of the
Virgin Maria, the prolific, yet nevertheless the eternal Virgin Maria
our Lady.'