)^^I^^^^JS!Ss^^M^?^^^i?E?^^^^s^ THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES IN MEMORIAM S.L.M1LL.\RD ROSENBERG NORTHERN SPAIN TAINTED AND DESCRIBED BY EDGAR T. A. WIGRAM LONDON ADAM & CHARLES BLACK 1906 "There is, Sir, a good deal of Spain which has not been perambulated. I would have you go thither." Dr Johnson. " And so you travel on foot ? " said Leon. " How romantic ! How courageous ! " "Yes," returned the undergraduate, "it's rather nice than otherwise, when once you're used to it ; only it's devilish difficult to get washed. I like the fresh air and these stars and things." " Aha ! " said Leon, " Monsieur is an artist." "Oh, nonsense I" cried the Englishman. "A fellow may admire the stars and be anything he likes." R. L. Stevenson. . • • i:.e \^(o'- Zo o W. A. W. ^ 8AEPE MECUM TEMPUS IN ULTIMUM "^ DEDUCTO ^r\Qim PREFACE It is ill gleaning for a necessitous author when Ford and Borrow have been before him in the field, and I may not attempt to justify the appearance of these pages by the pretence that I have any fresh story to tell. Yet, if my theme be old, it is at least still unhackneyed. The pioneers have done their work with unapproachable thoroughness, but the rank and file of the travelling public are follow- ing but slackly in their train. Year after year our horde of pleasure-seekers are marshalled by companies for the invasion of Europe: yet it would seem that there are but few in the total who have any real inkling of how to play the game. Some seem to migrate by instinct, and to make themselves miserable in the process. These ought to be restrained by their families, or com- pelled to hire substitutes in their stead. Others can indeed relish a flitting ; but cannot find it in Vll viii PREFACE their hearts to divorce themselves from their dinner- table and their toilet-battery, their newspaper, their small-talk and their golf. To them all petty annoyances and inconveniences assume dispro- portionate dimensions, and they are well advised in checking their razzias at San Sebastien, Pau, or Biarritz. But, to the elect, the very root of the pleasure of travel lies in the fact that their ordinary habits may be frankly laid aside. It is a mild method of " going Fanti " which rejoices their primiti\'e instincts : and they will find both the land and the people just temperately primitive in Spain. Many of us have felt the fascination of Italy. But those who have "heard the East a-calling" tell us that her call is stronger still ; — and Spain is the echo of the East. " Lofty and sour to them that love her not, but to those men that seek her sweet as summer." Even Italy, with all its charm, tastes flat to a Spanish enthusiast. He craves no other nor no better land. It has been said of Spain, that none who have not been there are particularly desirous of going, PREFACE ix and none who have been there once can refrain from going again. The author has not found him- self exempt from this common fatality ; and his notes and sketches, as embodied in this volume, are the fruit of four successive bicycle tours, under- taken sometimes alone, and sometimes in company with a kindred spirit. Of their shortcomings he believes that no one can be so conscious as him- self. But in the hope that they may prove of interest to sympathisers he ventures to expose them to the public gaze. NOTE All Spanish names ending in vowels are pronounced with the stress on the penultimate ; and those ending in consonants with the stress on the final syllable. Any exception is indicated by an accent. CONTENTS CHAPTER I PAGE The North Coast of Castile ..... 1 CHAPTER II COVADONGA AND EASTERN AsTURIAS .... 24 CHAPTER III Across the Mountains to I>eon ..... 43 CHAPTER IV The Pilgrim Road 6* CHAPTER V The Circuit of GalIcia 89 CHAPTER VI Western Asturias . . . . • • .113 CHAPTER VII BenaventEj Zamora^ and Toro . . .132 xi xii CONTENTS CHAPTER VIII PAGE Salamanca . . . . . . . . .152 CHAPTER IX B^JAR, AviLA, AND EsCORIAL . . . . .171 CHAPTER X Toledo .......... 192 CHAPTER XI A Raid into Estremadura . . . . . .215 CHAPTER XII Seg6via 237 CHAPTER XIII B6rgo8 .......... 256 CHAPTER XIV Across Navarre ........ 278 INDEX 301 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 1. Seg6via. The Aqueduct . 2. Castro Urdiales. The Bilbao Coastline 3. Castro Urdiales. The Harbour 4. Santoiia ..... 5. San Vicente de la Barquera 6. The Deva Gorge. La Hermida 7. The Deva Gorge. Urdon 8. Cangas de Onis. The Bridge over the Sella 9. The Sella Valley. Below Arriondas 10. Pasana. An Asturian Mountain Village . 11. Llanes. The Harbour .... 1 2. Leon. An Old Palace Doorway 13. Leon, From the Pajares Road 14. Leon. Church of San Isidoro . 15. Leon. The Market Place, and Casa del Ayuntamiento 16. Astorga. From the South-east 17. The Vierzo. From Ponferrada^ looking towards the Pass of Piedrafita 18. Lugo. The Santiago Gate xiii Frontispiece FACING FAGK 6 10 12 20 22 26 32 38 40 42 50 58 60 62 68 72 78 XIV LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS FACING PAGE 19. Lugo. Fuente de San Vicente . . . . 20. Santiago de Compostela. From the Lugo Road 21. Santiago de Compostela. The Cathedral from the North-east ....... 22. Orense. The Bridge over the Mino 23. Tuy and Valencia. The Frontier Towns on the Mino 24. Vigo Bay. The Inner Harbour, looking out towards the Sea ..... 25. Nuestra Sefiora de la Esclavitud 26. Betanzos. A Colonnaded Calle 27. The Masma Valley. Near Mondonedo 28. Rivadeo. An Approach to the Harbour 29. The Navia Valley .... 30. Cudillero. The Harbour . 31. Oviedo. A Street near the Cathedral 32. In the Pass of Pajares. Near Pola de Gordon 33. Benavente. From above the Bridge of Gonzalo ...... 34. Zamora. From the banks of the Duero . 35. Zamora. Church of Sta Maria de la Horta 36. A Spanish Patio ..... 37. Toro. From the banks of the Duero 38. Salamanca. Arcades in the Plaza de la Verdura 39. Salamanca. Church of San Martin . 40. Salamanca. From the left bank of the Tormes 80 82 86 92 96 100 104 IDS 110 114 116 120 124 130 134 140 144 148 150 156 160 164 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS XV PACING PACK 41. Salamanca. The Puerta del Rio, with the Cathedral Tower ..... 42. B^jar. An Approach to the Town . 43. Bejar. A Comer in the Market-place 44. Avila. From the North-west . 45. Avila. A Posada Patio 46. Escorial. From the East . 47. Toledo. Bridge of Alcantara, from the lUescas Road 48. Toledo. The Bridge of Alcantara 49. Toledo. Puerta del Sol . 50. Toledo. Calle del Comercio, with the Cathedral Tower 51. Toledo. The Gorge of the Tagus 52. Talavera de la Reina. From the banks of the Tagus 53. Plast^ncia. Puente San Lazaro 54. Plas^ncia. The Town Walls and Cathedral 55. Caceres. Within the old Town Walls 56. Caceres. Calle de la Cuesta de Aldana 57. M^rida. "Los Milagros," the ruins of the Great Aqueduct 58. Alcdntara .... 59. Seg6via. Church of San Migue 60. Segovia, Arco San Est6ban 61. Seg6via. The Alcazar 62. Seg6via. Arco Santiago . 63. Seg6via. Church of San Est^ban 168 174 176 180 184 188 194 198 200 204 208 212 216 218 222 226 228 232 238 244 248 252 254 XVI LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS FACING PAGB 64. Burgos. Arco San Martin 65. Duenas 66. Burgos. Hospital del Rey 67. Burgos. Arco Sta Maria 68. Burgos. Patio of the Casa de Miranda 69. Burgos. From the East . 70. The Gorge of Pancorvo 71. La Kioja Alavesa. Looking Northwards across the Ebro 72. Miranda del Ebro. A Corner in the Town 73. Pamplona. From the Road to the Frontier 74. Olite. The Castle 75. Pamplona. A Patio near the Cathedral . 260 264 266 268 272 276 282 284 288 290 292 296 Map at end of Volume. The design of the Cover is adapted from the facade of the Casa de las Conchas {House of the Shells) at Salamanca. The device on the Title Page is taken from a wrought-iroti knocker of the Cathedral at Toledo. The illustrations in this volume have been engraved and printed in England by Messrs Carl Hentschel, Ltd. NORTHERN SPAIN CHAPTER I THE NORTH COAST OF CASTILE Dear E., — Can you manage to get off some time in May and go bicycling with me in Norway ? Blank's have offered me a passage to Bergen. • ••••• Dear W., — I can manage your date, but don't quite feel drawn to your country, Norway is all mountains, and I want a little archaeology. I had been thinking of Provence. • ••••• Dear E., — No objection to Provence. Blank's will give us a passage in one of their colliers to Bilbao, and we can ride in across the Pyrenees. You must allow me some mountains. Dear W., — It's awfully good of Blank's. But once at Bilbao, why not stick to Spain ? Toledo 2 NORTHERN SPAIN is no further than Toulouse, and Cantabria as mountainous as the Pyrenees. • *•••• Dear E., — Very good ! Spain first ; and Provence second string if necessary. There's a boat saihng about May 20th. • ••••• The casting vote was indisputably the collier's ; but our plans were not quite so inconsequent as this conclusion might lead one to infer. Some nebulous notion of a Spanish expedition had been miraging itself before our eyes for several seasons previously ; and it is the nature of such nebulous notions to materialise accidentally at the last. Hitherto we had been awed by the drawbacks ; for Spain had been pictured to us as positively alive with bugbears. Travelling was difficult — nay, even dangerous ; the people were Anglophobists, the country a desei-t, and the cities dens of pesti- lence. The roads were unridable, and the heat unbearable. We should be eaten of fleas, and choked with garlic ; and to crown all our other tribulations, we should have to learn a new and unknown tongue. The knight who plunged into the lake of pitch had hardly a more inviting THE VOYAGE 3 prospect ; and the fairy palaces beneath it did not yield him an ampler reward. Provence still waits unvisited ; neither have we now any immediate intention of going there. We still keep going to Spain. • ••••• The owners said she would sail on Thursday ; but Wednesday brought down the captain in a highly energetic condition, and confident of catch- ini^ the midnit^ht tide. We had to make a bolt for the docks by the last train of the evening, and groped our way to the A macleo through a haze of coal dust, only to be met by the intelligence that the captain had gone home to bed! There was nothing for it but to camp in the cabin, where night was made constantly hideous by the coal roaring into the after-hold: and next morning found us out in the middle of the dock, sitting on our tail with our bows pointing to heaven. The coal for the fore-hold had failed us, and a luckier rival had ousted us from our berth at the staithes. The morning was occupied in resohing a general tangle ; for every ship in the basin seemed to fall foul of all the others in turn. Soon a second tide was lost. And when we regained the staithes there came another break in our procession of coal 4 NORTHERN SPAIN trucks. " Oh ! the Httle cargo boats that clear with evei'y tide ! " We flung ashore in despair. But a more hope- ful sight saluted us when we returned. The Amadeo lay out by the dock gates, long and low, with her main deck but eighteen inches above the water. At last she was fully laden ; and we sailed on the Friday morn. So long as we remained in Tyne Dock we had not judged ourselves conspicuously dirty ; but we showed as a crying scandal when out in the clean blue sea. The mate even bewailed the calm weather. If we " took it green " once we should be clean immediately. But such heroic methods of labour-saving we very contentedly excused. Meanwhile we made leisurely progress, for the Amadeo was no greyhound. "She never yet caught anything with steam in her " according to her despondent engineer. Saturday's sun set behind Dover — the great cliffs looming darkly over us, and the town lights showing like pin-holes pricked through the blackness to the glowing sky beyond. Sunday showed us the grim teeth of the Caskets ; and the weird natural dolmens of Ushant were passed the following day. But Providence still continued to temper the wind to that very BILBAO HARBOUR 6 shorn lamb the Amadeo, and the dreaded Bay was as smooth as a sheet of rippled glass. About Wednesday evening the captain began to wax very bitter concerning Spanish lighthouses, and we went below better satisfied that deep water should last us till dawn ! But the first rays of light showed us a long line of blue peaks high on the horizon to the southward, and within an hoin* our voyage was over. "In we came — and time enough — 'cross Bilbao bar." It was from the sea that I had my first view of Genoa and the Italian Riviera, and the seaward approach to Bilbao deserves no meaner comparison than this. The romantic hills reared themselves from the water's edge, unwinding their veils at the touch of the early sunshine ; and the sparkling villages clinging to the cliffs round the shell- shaped harbour of Portugalete made a picture which might have been borrowed from I^ugano or Lucerne. A tumult of tossing peaks was piled in disorder to the eastward, above the smoke of the iron furnaces in the winding valley of the Nervion ; and far away to the westward, ridge upon ridge fell sloping down into the blue waters of the Atlantic ; sometimes breaking off so sheer at the finish that the ore ships could actually moor 6 NORTHERN SPAIN alongside to load. The beauty of the Spanish coast is a favourite theme of visitors to San Sebastien, but they know not a tithe of the truth which they are so eager to proclaim. The whole Atlantic littoral from the Bidassoa to the INlino is teeming with equal attractions, and the im- mediate vicinity of Bilbao is a stretch which is second to none. Neither were our first impressions of the people less favourable than those of the country. And that though they were formed in the Custom House, which is scarcely a promising beat. These hospitable officials were if anything over-considerate ; for we were only anxious to pay and have done with it, while they were all intent on excusing us, if they could find any justification under the code. At last, however, we were allowed to purchase our freedom ; fled to our machines amid a haze of reciprocal compUments ; and a few minutes later were drifting along the road to the westward, with no more care for the morrow than flotsam on uncharted seas. The busy industries of Bilbao have unfortunately gone some way towards marring its lovely situation. Its valley is choked with smoky factories ; and its mountains are one vast red scar from base to CASTRO URDIALES The Bilbao Coastline. IRON QUARRIES 7 summit, the entire face having been flayed away for ironstone, and ladled out into the ore ships along the aerial railways to feed the blast furnaces of Sheffield and IMiddlesborough. Our ugher trades seem to take malicious delight in ruining the prettiest landscapes. But their dominion is but for a season, and the land will enjoy its Sabbaths in the end. We only scratch Nature skin-deep, and her wealds will devour our black countries. *' After a thousand years," say the Spaniards, "the river returns to his bed." Beyond the blight of the quarries, tlie scenery is of the type of our own \\'elsh higlilands — steep, rocky ridges and gullies, thickly clothed witli bracken and scrub oak. Even the railway has a most charming ramble, hunting its own tail up and down the long, steep, corkscrew gradients of the inland valleys. But the road clambers along the deeply fissured coast line, and no free agent will elect to follow the rail. Our first stage, how- ever, was but a short one, for it was evening when we quitted Bilbao. Castro Urdiales gaped for us with its cavernous little calle, and we dived in to seek quarters for the night. Surely a town so close to Bilbao might Imve been expected to be inured to ^•isitors ! Yet our 8 NORTHERN SPAIN modest progress through the streets of Castro created as great a sensation as though we had been "Corsica" Boswell in his costume of scarlet and gold. The children formed up in procession behind us. Their elders turned out to take stock of us from the balconies. And a voluble old pilot (whose knowledge of English was about equal to our Spanish) came bustling out of a caf^ to conduct us to the primitive little inn. It is a fortunate thing that a traveller's needs can be guessed without much vocabulary ; for our first task was to order our supper, and mistakes may be serious when you have to eat the result. The enterprise, however, is not so hazardous as one imagines. Like Sancho Panza, you may ask for what you will ;— but what you get is " the pair of cow heels dressed with chick peas, onions and bacon which are just now done to a turn." After all, we did not fare badly ; mine hostess was a damsel of resources, and our old pilot prompted us vigorously from the rear. It was he who suggested the "lamp-post" — a threat at which we jibbed some- what visibly. But the girl plunged promptly into the kitchen behind her and returned displaying the "lamp-post" — which was a lobster. As to the three weird courses which followed him, our CASTRO URDIALES 9 conclusions were not equally positive. They appeared in cryptic disguises ; — came, " meat " which defied identification. There is no declara- tion of origin in most of the dishes of Spain. Yet the traveller need not be nervous. He can generally trust Maritornes. Let him eat what is set before him, asking no questions for conscience sake. One might travel a long way along any coast line before finding a prettier haven than Castro Urdiales. The nucleus of the town, with the church and castle, is perched upon a rocky promontory, whose cliffs drop sheer into the deep water, and whose outlying pinnacles have been linked up to the mainland by irregular arches so as to form natural wharves. A little harbour for fishing-craft nestles under the cliff to the eastward ; looking back along the coast to Bilbao, and the bold conical hill with the watch- tower (reminiscent of Barbary pirates), which guards the entrance to the harbour of Portugalete. Yet all this fair exterior hides a hideous secret, and at last we surprised it unaware. We were well acquainted with sardines in England, and it had not escaped our cognisance that sardines were commonly bereft of heads. 10 NORTHERN SPAIN Had it ever occurred to us that all those heads were somewhere ? Well, the dreadful truth must be acknowledged ; they were here. Yes, here at Castro Urdiales — a mountain of gibbous eyes and a smell to poison the heavens — awaiting the kindly wave which would eventually garner them in from the ledge upon which they were stewing, and deliver them over to the " lamp-posts " in the crevices of the rock below. Castro Urdiales is a city of ambitions. It is keeping pace with the era, and in 1901 its most antiquated alley had been already dignified by the title of " Twentieth Century Street." Since then it has developed a ponderous steel bridge in the harbour, and thrown out a massive concrete break- water from the end of the modest jetty. But its progress is not to be deprecated where it does not interfere with its beauty ; and now a comfortable Fonda has supplanted the humble Ve^ita which was our first lodging on Spanish soil. Our road next day still followed the mountainous coast line, and we descended at noon upon the roofs of Laredo, a delightful little town, chmbing up the steep hillside above its tiny anchorage, and facing the great mass of Santona, the " Gibraltar of the North." This imposing fortress lies across CASTRO URDIALES The Harbour. ■m i:a^':^>5 idj: ^^t-¥ .6 Ifc * - * <*. :< SPANISH MEALS li the mouth of an immense land-locked lagoon, and in size, shape, and situation is almost a replica of the famous Rock. It has no such strategical v^alue, but is probably equally impregnable ; for it was the only northern city where the French flag was still waving at the close of that " War of Liberation " which we style the Peninsular War. At Laredo we dined, and as Spanish meals are the subject of much needless apprehension, perhaps we may pause to say a word in their defence before proceeding further upon our way. We begin with Demyuno or petit dejeimer, and here, in a genuinely Spanish menage, chocolate will generally take the place of the Frenchman's cafd au lait. It is served in tiny cups, very hot and very thick. It is really a substitute for butter, and you eat it by dipping your bread in it, wash- ing it down with a glass of cold water, which you are expected to " sugar to taste." The peasants, however, eschew this fashion as new-fangled, and content themselves with a draught of wine or a thimbleful of "the craythur." This is not recommended by the faculty, but travellers have sometimes to be content. Dinner, or Comida, is served about mid-day ; the nomhial time varies, but it is always half an 12 NORTHERN SPAIN hour late. In many districts, however, this title is transferred to the supper, and then the luncheon is known as Almuei'zo — Dejeuner. It is a very- substantial banquet of some half-dozen courses, inaugurated (in strictly classical fashion) by an egg. Next comes a dish of haricot beans, or chick peas, or rice garnished with pimientos, closely pursued by another containing boiled meat, bacon, and sausages, all which you may tackle separately or simultaneously, according to your greatness of soul. Then comes a stew — the celebrated Olla Podrida ; and then (to the great astonishment of the stranger) the belated fish. Fish seems to have methods of penetrating to all spots which are accessible by railway. Hake is the general stand-by, but in the mountains you get most excellent little trout. The solid portion of the meal is concluded by a " biftek " and salad, but there is still an appendix in case you are not satisfied yet. On Sundays, in superior Fondas you will get caramel pudding, and always and everywhere cheese, accompanied by a sort of quince jelly known as memhrillo^ a very excellent institution indeed. Finally (again classically) comes the fruit ; but this is usually rather inferior, considering how very cheap and excellent it is in the markets outside. Wine is, SANTONA CAFl^S 13 of course, supplied ad lib. to every diner, and water in porous earthenware bottles which eva- poration keeps deliciously cool. Olives are eaten steadily at all intervals; and if you have long to wait between courses, you fill up the intervals with cigarettes ! The evening meal — cena — is generally very similar to the mid-day, except that soup takes the place of the egg. The cooking is by no means deserving of all the strictures that have been showered upon it ; for most nations know how to cook their own dishes, and only come seriously to grief when they try to imitate French. The dreaded garlic is used but sparingly ; oil is a much more dominating feature. But then oil has a double debt to pay, because Spaniards make no butter. At all events the food is plentiful, and " St Bernard's sauce " will cover a multitude of deficiencies ; for appetite is a blessing that is seldom lacking to the traveller in Spain ! After dinner, the Cafe. And a Spanish cafe is a most noteworthy assemblage. It is compara- tively empty in the evenings, for the Spaniard's homing instincts are much more strongly developed than the Frenchman's, and he seldom quits his house and his family circle after dark. But in the early afternoon it is thronged to repletion with all 14 NORTHERN SPAIN sorts and conditions of customers, from the general in command of the garrison to the ragged vine- dresser and muleteer. Here they sit through the long, sultry hours of siesta-tide in a roomful of shuttered twilight, chattering like a mill-wheel in flood-time, sipping their coffee and aniseed brandy,^ and steadily consuming cigarettes. It often seems mild dissipation for such very truculent-looking desperadoes. Fancy an Enghsh navvy regaling his carnal appetites on black coiFee and dominoes ! Not but that dominoes (as played in a Spanish caf^) is an exciting, even an athletic, pastime. It entails alarming vociferation ; and every piece that you play must be slammed down on the marble table top with all the force at your command. The domino volleys echo through the cafe like musketry on a field-day on Sahsbury Plain, and if you feel at all dubious as to your direction when you chance to be seeking that edifice, you may readily succeed in locating it by listening in the street for the din. But the heat of the day is now passing, and the traveller must answer the call. His road is at ^ "Infernal anis," says the advertisement, "made from the worst wines of the Priorato, is neither tonic, digestive, nor restorative, and has never been commended at any exhibition." OX-CARTS 16 least more level than hitherto ; for the eoast hills westward of Laredo are gradually losing their mountainous character, and over their heads to the southward we begin to catch glimpses of the great rock walls of the Cantabrian Sierras, which grow ever higher and grander as we near the Asturian march. The environs of Santander are again disfigured by quarrying ; and the soil, where disturbed, is of a deep red ferruginous hue. Truly " a land whose stones are iron, and out of whose hills thou mayest dig brass '* ; though " rivers and fountains of water " are not quite so common as we might desire. Santander itself, however, we will avoid altogether. Like Bilbao, it is quite a modern city ; and the direct road through the mountain glens behind it brings us down to the sea again at Torrelavega by a very much pleasanter line. Meanwhile we pursued our career to an inter- mittent orchestral accompaniment — a tune in two keys, like M'Alpin's drone and small pipes, but far more powerful and piercing than the most brazen-lunged piper could blow. Occasionally we met the musician. He is only an ordinary ox-cart — a pair of wheels, a pole, and a plank or two, actuated by a pair of sleepy kine. In Galicia the yoke is fastened round the necks 16 NORTHERN SPAIN of the oxen ; but more generally it is bound with thongs to their horns and finished off with a bonnet of goat-skin, or in Asturias with a fleecy busby of most imposing size. The wheels have often only a single spoke, or sometimes three arranged in the form of the letter H. Altogether it is probably the simplest, slowest, and most vociferous affair on wheels. For the amount of lamentation that can be extracted from one dry axle is a thing that is scarcely credible even when it is heard. The natives encourage it. They have one theory that it pleases the oxen, and another (far more probable) that it scares the Fiend. But at any rate it has no apparent effect upon the Spanish teamster, who lounges along in front waving his goad like a drum-major's baton ; or sleeps— yes, sleeps — on the summit of his yelhng load. Verily the man who first invented sleep must have been a waggoner ! This evening, as we were crossing the ridge between two parallel valleys, our ears were saluted by the unmistakable long-drawn scream of an impatient locomotive. Our map showed no railway, how- ever ; and we were just beginning to plume our- selves on an important geographical discovery, when we caught sight of a single ox-cart — 200 feet DOGS 17 below and half a mile away ! The hill sloped away straight and smooth before us, and we fled ! We felt no shame at the time ; yet perhaps it was rather faint-hearted to shirk the chance of a personal interview with the most musical axle in the world. But the bicyclist has one grievance in Spain which is not so easily avoided as ox-carts, and it is about the end of the second day that the iron of it begins to enter his soul. Thenceforward for ever he cherishes a deadly and undying rancour against the Spanish dogs. We had been partly prepared for the infliction beforehand. The captain had mentioned them, and had talked of ammonia pistols ; but we spurned the suggestion with humane horror. We knew quite well that all foreign dogs were brutes, but we were confident in our own benignity and scornful of " methods of barbarism." And in these noble sentiments we persisted — for about a day and a half. Next morning we were awakened out of our beauty sleep by the yellings of some miserable cur in the Fonda patio ; — " Hurrah ! there's a dog getting hurt," was our simultaneous comment ; and ere we recrossed the frontier we had registered a grim resolve that next time we would bring revolvers. 18 NORTHERN SPAIN and strew our path with carcases from Fiienterrabia to Cadiz. So much for the deterioration of moral fibre under the strain of Spanish dog. Well, we are not the first (nor the last) whose amiability has been ruined by "dogs barking at us as we pass by " ; and when every brute in the countryside, from the toy mongrel to the wolf- hound as big as an ass-colt, dances yelling and snapping at your heels for half a mile together, it is not entirely surprising that patience should wear thin. Of course there are stones. The Guadar- rama district in particular produces a beautiful white quartzose, — hard and heavy, with many sharp angles,— an excellent article to throw at a dog. But what is a pocketful among so many? Besides, you often miss them, and never hurt them enough. Truly I could feel no sure confidence in anything short of a loaded revolver. But only a very even-tempered man could trust himself with that ultima ?Yttio within reach of his fingers ; and I cherish a rooted objection to "going heeled" in a civilised land. Perhaps a lion-tamer's whip with a loaded butt and a bullet at the end of the lash may prove effective enough to compromise upon. Meanwhile there is some silver lining to the cloud. There are already some convertites among SAN VICENTE DE LA BARQUERA 19 the dogs of Spain. The majority pour themselves upon the cycUst. clamorous and open-mouthed, like the demons in Malebolge ; but a remnant clap their tails between their legs and make a bee-line for the horizon. We humbly hope that our own modest assiduity will have eftected a small but perceptible increase in the latter class. Beyond Torrelavega there is again a parting of roadways. One passes along the coast by Santillana, the birthplace of Gil Bias ; and the other through Cabezon, threading the mountain glens. They reunite at San Vicente de la Barquera, another minor seaport of Cantabria, less progressive than Castro, but quite as attractive after its style. The town lies at the extremity of a tongue of land between two wide estuaries. It is the meeting-place of the two long bridges which cross them, and its precipitous acropolis and arcaded market-place afford endless studies to the lover of the picturesque. San Vicente had got a hideous secret of its own as well as Castro, only at San Vicente it was hardly a secret — in fact, they were rather boom- ing it as a show. An old sunken coasting vessel had recently been recovered and beached in the estuary, and its hold was positively teeming with 20 NORTHERN SPAIN lobsters, like Sir Thomas Ingoldsby's pockets with eels. Truly it was a gruesome sight ; and a novelist in search of an appropriate ending for a really desperate villain could hardly do better than have him pincered to death in that crawly inferno by the black clanking monsters which inhabited it ! The Cantabrian Sierras, already sufficiently majestic, now reach their culmination in the acknowledged monarchs of the range — the Picos de Europa, the landmark of all the old navigators who once steered their Mexican argosies into Gijon or Santander. This vast mass of snow - crowned peaks forms a most imposing spectacle. They are great "cloud compellers," and are seldom entirely clear. But they are sometimes seen unveiled in the calm of the early morning, an apparently impassable barrier filling half the horizon towards the south. Yet the road which we have taken to guide us aims right at the very heart of them, and at the little village of Unquera it bears up square to the left. A copious sea-green river (officially known as the Tina Mayor, but invariably styled the Deva by the inhabitants) comes hurrying down at this point from the mountains, and charges the great ridge of limestone which edges the coast-line like a natural sea-wall. We look in vain for the outlet : SAN VICENTE DE LA BARQUERA '^u.--. " >-j 'f THE PICOS DE EUROPA 21 the barrier seems absolutely unbroken. But a stream that has pierced the Picos recks little of minor obstacles, and the waves are booming to welcome it but half a mile beyond. Turning our backs on the sea, we enter a noble valley, walled in by crags of Alpine grandeur, and populated by families of Imperial eagles swinging to and fro their eyries, high amid the cornices of rock ; but the pastures at the foot of the steeps are everywhere level and placid, and from Unquera up to Abandames can scarcely be called an ascent. There is a waters-meet just above Abandames, and the traveller as he approaches it begins to experience considerable misgivings concerning the future of his road. If it will but condescend to follow the valley, there seems just a chance that it may emerge as a staircase ; but when it bears resolutely to the left to knock its head against the precipices of the Picos, he resignedly concludes that now there's nothing for it but a lift. A deep notch in the crags lets out the river, and here the road slips in. There seems every prospect that it will be promptly confronted by a precipice and a waterfall ; but beyond the hrst notch is a second, and beyond the second a third. At every turn the 22 NORTHERN SPAIN passage grows narrower and deeper, and the way is never clear before us for more than a few score yards. Yet the unhoped-for outlet is invariably forthcoming, and at last we cease to marvel at the unfailing surprise. It is the great canon of the Deva, one of the finest passes in the world. It is but a few miles since we quitted sea level, and w^e have risen but little on the way. Yet the cliffs that edge the roadway make but one leap of it to the clouds, and their tops are streaked with snow. Here rises a staircase of gigantic terraces ; here a fringe of crooked fingers, black and jagged against the sky; here a range of sheer bluff bastions, like the cubos ^ of a titanic wall ; and from time to time the glittering crest of some remoter peak peers over their shoulders into the depths of the gulf below. The mountain limestone is as hard as granite, and has shed but few screes or boulders to obstruct the passage of the stream, and the road squeezes itself along whichever bank happens to be wddest at the moment, crossing and recrossing as occasion requires. At one point a magnificent osprey, looking twice as large as life, came sailing slowly down the chasm, and passed '' Literally "Tubs/' the solid semicircular bastions of Spanish town walls. THE DEVA GORGE La H^rmida. Jh»f)*va at |a l^fcrenklo ■-'"•'.:-'*' Ay ..^ THE DEVA GORGE 23 but a few feet above our heads, regally indiflTerent to the presence of trespassers in his domain. 15ut apart from him the passage was practically solitary — mile after mile of the same stupendous scenery, till our necks ached from craning up the precipices, and our minds seemed oppressed with a sort of hopelessness of escape. At the hamlet of la Hermida the valley makes a momentary attempt to widen ; but this little ebullition is promptly squashed in the grip of the mountains, and the great beetling cliffs once more shoulder in upon the defile. The effects seemed finer than ever, for the clouds of a gathering tempest were tearing themselves to ribbons among the jagged aiguilles, and their streamers were pierced and illuminated by the level rays of the setting sun. Not till we had burrowed our way for some fifteen miles through the roots of the mountains did we escape at last into the upland vale of Liebana ; and looking back on the snow- wreathed fangs behind us, wondered (like Ali Baba before his cavern) what had become of the crevice from which we had just emerged. CHAPTER II COVADONGA AND EASTERN ASTURIAS Far be it from me to disparage Vizcaya or Galicia, but the prize " for the fairest " must be awarded to Asturias. No other province in Spain — few even in Italy — can show such wealth of natural beauty ; and it is the district around the Picos de Europa that is the crowning glory of the whole. The stranger pays his homage to its scenery, but for the Spaniard it has a more sentimental appeal. This great mountain citadel is his Isle of Athelney, the last refuge of the little band of stalwarts who never bowed the knee to the dominion of Mahound. Here the first gleam of victory broke the long darkness of disaster ; and seven years after the downfall of Roderic, Pelayo began the redemption of Spain. It still remains a place of pilgrimage ; for Our Lady herself fought from Heaven against the infidel upon that momentous day. Her miraculous image, in its extravagant tinsel nimbus 24 URDON 25 and stiff brocaded gown, holds its state over the High Altar in the Colegiata,^ and its picture adorns the walls of half the cottages in Asturias. Decidedly no tour would be complete without a visit to Covadonga. I had lingered sketching in the rocky labyrinth of the Deva till the failing light would no longer serve my turn. Darkness would be upon me ere I could emerge from its recesses ; but I had not been caught unaware, for the gully can boast an occasional venta, and I had resolved to trust the resources of the little inn at Urdon. Urdon consists of a single house, and that, to be strictly accurate, is only half a house, for it abuts straight upon the vertical face of the precipice, and the naked rock is its inner wall. If anything dis- turbed that rock (quoth mine hostess airily, as she handed me my candlestick), Urdon would become an omelet. And perhaps that fate is in store for it eventually, for the rocks do drop an occasional sugar-plum into the valley at their feet. Urdon looks up a bend of the river, and ftices southerly ; yet for six months in the year no ray of direct sunshine ftills upon that little red roof It 1 A collegiate cliurch, intermediate in dignity between a parish church and a cathedral. 4 26 NORTHERN SPAIN is only from near the zenith that the sun can peer into so deep a well. The traveller plumps upon it suddenly round an abrupt corner, and " here," thinks he, " is the most secluded nook in all the habitable globe." Yet Urdon is the hub of the universe to Tresviso — its inn, its post-office, its commercial emporium, the one link that unites it with the balance of mankind. The pathway to Tresviso struggles up the tiny gully which debouches upon the main gorge at Urdon ; but Tresviso itself lies high above the cloud wreaths, a good hard three- hours climb. The Tresvisans aver that there is another village, Sontres, some hours above them. Perhaps there is something above Sontres ; — but this imagination boggles at. The little shop was thronged with a company of Tresvisan women. They had been to the market at Potes to sell their cheeses, — a sort of gorgonzola, and excellent feeding for a zoophagist, — and had paused at the stair-foot of their Nephelococcygia to wipe something off the slate before returning home. Sturdy active figures, clad in patched and weather-stained garments which had once been bright-coloured, they formed a striking group which would have attracted attention anywhere. Their features were hard yet not ill-favoured, and their THE DEVA GORGE Urdon. [If don. J9 MOUNTAIN VILLAGERS 27 skins as brown as nriahogany ; but there was not a grey hair nor a wrinkle among them all. Perhaps they were younger than they looked, but they are a long-lived race in the mountains ; and even their octogenarians are capable of running errands to Urdon. *' ' Try not the path,' the old man said." And the path in question was steep and narrow and stony, wriggling up along the brink of the torrent and the brow of the precipice ; the little party had done some nine hours' journeying already, and the shades of night had fallen. Yet for them and their beasts it w^as but the fag end of their regular JNIonday tramp, and they made naught of it. Evidently when the " blue-eyed youth " flourishes off with his banner a-climbing the Picos, the maiden of Tresviso is not likely to be vastly im- pressed. She takes that walk with her grand- father on Sunday afternoons. The inn at Urdon may be small, but at least it is commendably early. They sped their parting guest with the twilight, and I was well clear of the gorge before I caught my first glimpse of the sun. 'The mists had not yet bestirred themselves to gather on the sides of the mountains ; and the whole line of peaks stood out sharp and clear as I 28 NORTHERN SPAIN crossed the bridge at Abandames and headed west- ward up the left bank of the Cares, which joins the Deva at tlie waters-meet below the gorge. Just beyond the gash that marks the exit of the Deva, a prominent peak, like a small cousin of the INlatterhorn, stands out boldly into the centre of the valley. The river circles round from behind it, and the road once more plunges in among the roots of the hills. But that the Deva cliffs still towered over- whelmingly in the memory, one would have declared it impossible for any ravine to be finer than this. Indeed, in many respects the Cares is complementary of its rival. Its rocks may be less terrific, but its slopes are more generously wooded, and its pale sea-green waters seem of ampler volume than the sister- stream. The river boils along beside the road in a deep, rocky trench — a series of rapids and pot-holes — a dangerous river for a swim; and every turn that it takes opens some new and wonderful vista — huge buttresses of precipitous limestone, and shaggy floods of pinewood pouring out of the gaps between. The Cares gorge is hardly so long as the Deva's ; but it ekes out its interest in an appendix which is not much inferior to the text. The road begins THE CARES RAVINE 29 to heave itself slowly upward along tlie face of the mountain towards tlie saddle at the head of the valley ; and every foot that it rises seems to magnify the grandeur of the opposing heights. Now at last the upper slopes of the Picos surge into sight above their terraced pedestal ; and far away into the distance behind us ridge after ridge in endless series radiates out from the great central chaos which towers close and high across the vale. This final view from the culminating point of the roadway is one of the most striking of all. In Spain it seems never permissible to travel entirely for pleasure. The gossips provide you a business if you have none ready to hand. In the Rioja district you are branded as a wine-bibber. In the Asturias you are promptly consigned to the mines. Such was my fate at Carrefio, the little hamlet which sits astride the watershed. An aged crone was squatting on the hearth in the Venta, performing the functions of a meat-jack over the smouldering embers of the fire. She unhesitatingly diagnosed my profession, and at once began to reel off the local directory — Don Jorge, and Don Juan, and Don Jaime and his wife and family — all English mining engineers in the various villages around. Everybody seems to know everybody 30 NORTHERN SPAIN else in Astiirias and to speak of them familiarly by their Christian names. But this latter custom is practically universal in the Peninsula ; and 1 have surprised myself figuring as Don Edgar on the strength of a second day's stay. However, rather to " mine aunt's " bewilderment, I did not linger at Carreiio. The descent to Cangas lay before me, and I was soon speeding on the way. This valley is of a less daring type of beauty than that which debouches at Abandames. It is wider, shallower, and shadier, and moulded in gentler curves. The Picos are still upon the left, but they are now growing more distant ; and the most prominent feature is the parallel range upon the right, between them and the sea ; a fine bold line of hills some four thousand feet high known as the Sierra de Cuera. Presently I became conscious of an ox-cart- It was grinding along the road in front of me. I OA erhauled it rapidly, and was close up when it arrived at the turn. But when the road straight- ened, behold ! it was entirely empty ; and a second glance showed the cart-wheels peeping over the margin, and the driver gathering himself together out of the bushes beyond. The oxen, maddened by flies, had made a dash for a pool at the road- CANGAS DE ONIS 31 side, and the whole equipage had incontinently turned turtle. 'Jlie accident was entirely the fault of the beasts, and one would not have been sinprised if the man had been angry. But this rough-looking fellow took his mishap with admirable equanimity, and thanked ine most impressively for my help in righting his cart. " Gracias a IJios that I was thrown clear ! " said he, crossing himself, as I approached him. And he even spared some sympathy for his oxen, " Ah ! but they annoy them greatly- — the flies." The Spanish peasant is not usually of a surly temper, and even a double back somersault may leave his manners in working- trim. Once before it had been my lot to witness a similar accident in England, where the driver, just extricated from beneath his vehicle, was indignantly demanding his hat. The incident was not without humour, and was gratifying to a student of Dickens ; but it struck me that " Gracias a Dios " was distinctly a happier phrase. Cangas de Onis, the little town which was the goal of my day's journey, boasts that it was once the capital of Spain. And so it was — in the sense that Caerleon was of England — for here Pelayo first established his modest court when all the S2 NORTHERN SPAIN rest of the Peninsula was Mahommedan. The days of its greatness, however, are too remote to have left much trace. It still retains its lovely situation ; but a few rude monastic fragments are the only relics left by its early kings. It boasts, however, one striking monument (more modern than Pelayo), in the grand old mediaeval bridge; one of those lofty gable-shaped structures that are so typical of Southern countries, and perhaps, next to Orense, the finest example of its kind in Spain. Like most of its class, it is now little used, for the modern bridge is but a few yards distant. And, indeed, none of them could ever have accommodated wheel traffic, for they are steep and narrow, and frequently innocent of parapets. Bar archery, one can well believe that Diego Garcia de Pared es with his two-handed sword might have held such a pass against a host ; though (in justice to that doughty waiTior's modesty, so highly commended by the curate) T believe his autobiography never states that he actually did. A most attractive-looking road leads up the Sella valley, inviting the traveller to adventure himself for Sahagun ; and the view frames itself delightfully into the great arch of the bridge. It was obviously impossible to do it justice on a cAngas de onis The Bridge over the Sella. COVADONGA 88 sketching block, and exceedingly probable that one would get sunstroke in the attempt ; but there was no deferring to the promptings of prudence, and the clouds charitably came to my rescue before I was quite melted away. The natives at first watched me in horror from a distance ; but they crowded in around me as soon as the sun retired, and began to volunteer informa- tion concerning the annals of the dale. " One morning in '85," said an old peasant, tapping the roadway impressively with his cudgel, " the water was over here ! " Car-r-ramba, my brother ! But that must have been an anxious day for Cangas de Onis ! A twenty-five-foot spate must have wrought pretty havoc in the valley ! It was no mere vaulting ambition that induced the old architects to build their bridge so high ! Covadonga itself lies at the head of a little lateral valley some seven miles above Cangas de Onis. The spot is a veritable cul-de-sac. The steep wooded slopes are battlemented with a fringe of aiguilles, and over their tops one catches an occasional glimpse of the pathless Pikes beyond, their steel-grey summits streaked with wreaths of snow. A huge semi-detached rock stands out boldly in the centre of this natural auditorium. 34 NORTHERN SPAIN and the valley curling around its foot finishes in a hook against the isthmus which connects it to the hillside. Upon its summit is the Church of Our Lady of Covadonga, with its attendant buildings, and behind it, at the end of the hook, is a broad beetling precipice, coving itself out over its own base — the famous " Cave," sacred for ever in the legendary annals of Spain. Here it was that Pelayo and his dauntless 300 made their stand against the 300,000 who had been sent against them by the Moor ; and sallying out smote them with very great slaughter, in so much that 126,000 were left dead upon the field and about half as many more killed in the course of the pursuit ! Truly we deal witli gorgeous round figures in these early battles against the infidel ! But wliy should the Spanish chroniclers have modestly stopped short at 188,000 ? A full quarter of a million is their standard casualty list. It is a pity that the legend should have got so fantastically attired in buckram, for the facts upon which it is founded are indubitably historical, and, stripped of extravagances, they reveal a gallant episode enough. The Moorish invasion of the Peninsula seemed THE BATTLE 85 at the moment invincible, and the first rush of conquest had carried them even to Gijon. But the northern provinces were as yet rather overrun than subjugated ; and many bands of broken men had taken refuge in the mountains, where they were carrying on a guerilla warfare according to the immemorial habit of Spain. One of the most formidable of these bands was captained by Pelayo, Avhose stronghold was the rock of Covadonga, an ideal natural citadel for a bandit chief. Him it was resolved to suppress ; and a " punitive column " — shall we say ten thousand strong ? — was despatched from Gijon imder command of Alxaman for that purpose. What force Pelayo had at his disposal it is impossible to guess ; certainly more than three hundred, yet far too few to admit of encountering his foe in the open field. Cornered at last with his back to the wall at the head of the Covadonga valley, he drew his followers together into his rocky eyrie and prepared to fight to the death. The nucleus of his force would no doubt have been posted upon the rock itself and the neck by which it is ap- proached ; others would be scattered along the hillside, lest the foe should endeavour to crown the heights and deliver the attack from above. This last, indeed, was the only move to be dreaded. 36 NORTHERN SPAIN Against a coup de main the position was practically impregnable. Yet the attempt was made. Some of the Moors would perhaps have pushed straight ahead to storm the neck from the valley ; but the main column circled around the base of the rock to take the position in reverse. It was upon these that the great destruction fell. Their ranks were disordered by the steep and broken ground, their flanks exposed to the great rock batteries which the Asturians had prepared upon the slopes above, and a well-timed sally by the party in ambush in the cave completed their discomfiture. From such a rout there was no possibility of rally. The whole army, deeply committed in the intricate recesses of the mountains, was overwhelmed in irremediable disaster ; and on the little Campo del Rey at the foot of the crag, all cumbered with the bodies of the infidels, the enthusiastic victors saluted their chieftain with the title of King. The victory was indeed even more decisive than its magnitude appeared to warrant. The destruc- tion of Alxaman rendered it impossible for Munuza to maintain himself at Gijon, and the forces of Pelayo, rapidly increasing with the prestige of success, overwhelmed his army also in the Pass of Pajares as he was attempting to regain I^eon. The MEMORIAL CHURCH 37 Moors made no further attempt to establish them- selves beyond tlie mountains. Their Emirs were intent upon the invasion of Aquitania ; and the civil wars which succeeded their great defeat at Tours allowed ample time for the consolidation of the infant kingdom of Asturias, until it finally grew strong enough to cope with them upon equal terms. Covadonga has always been sacred to Asturians, but of late some attempt has been made to excite a more national cult. The new memorial church is one symptom of this ambition, but it is to be hoped the design will never develop sufficiently to mar the quiet retirement of this solitary glen. The church itself is a gi-aceful little building enough, but contains nothing of antiquarian interest except the miraculous image before alluded to ; and 1 regret to say that the feature which sticks most resolutely in my memory is an engra\ed bronze plate over the w^estern door, of which the following is a literal translation : — " Out of respect for the House of God, and the Principles of Hygiene, you are requested not to enter in w^ooden shoes, nor to expectorate in this Sacred Edifice." At Arriondas, a little below Cangas de Onis, the Sella receives a strong reinforcement from the or::>^v'3 fl 38 NORTHERN SPAIN Pilona ; and thence to the sea it is a fine copious river — broad swift shallows alternating with deep calm pools in the very best salmon-stream style. It has the repute of being an excellent fishing river, as, indeed, its appearance would warrant. Yet I fear it gets but scurvily treated ; for the local piscatorial methods cannot strictly be classified as " Sport." Once upon a time, saith tradition, there came a " little Englishman " to Arriondas, and sallied forth to inveigle the truchas with fragments of feather and wool. " And he caught some ! Yes, he actually did 1 He even tried to induce us to do likewise. But we of Arriondas know better. We go angling with shot-guns and bombs." It seems characteristic of Asturian rivers that they should keep persistently running into moun- tains instead of away from them, and the Sella below Arriondas is no exception to the rule. The stormy hills of the Sierra de Cuera throng tumult- uously across its pathway and appear to prohibit all egress. But the river slips like an eel through the tangle, and its agile windings map out a passage for the road. No one looking down- stream at the view which I sketched from the banks of it would imagine that the sea was within six miles of him and the river tidal up to his feet. THE SELLA VALLEY Below Arriondas. »1^ 1„ *"W^-,'? I. " •> i'=}« ^!«i V •fiat -^•' A LEONESE LEGEND 61 fighting ; but Leon has only a legend ; and it is to San Isidoro and King Fernando that they are indebted for having anything at all. For it came to pass on the eve of the battle that a sound was heard at midnight in the streets of the slumbering city. A sound as of the passage of a mighty army, the clang of armour and the tramp of horse and man. The priest who was keeping vigil at the shrine of St Isidore heard the phantom host halt before the portal and their thundering summons beat upon the door. " Who knocks ? " he cried ; and the ghostly captains answered him, " Ferdinand Gonzalez and Roderic of Bivar!^ And we are come to call King Fernando the Great, who lies buried in this holy temple, that he may rise and ride with us to deliver Spain ! " The terrified monk fell fainting on the pavement, and when he revived the door stood open. The last great recruit had joined the colours, and the spirit host had passed upon their way. No doubt we may read in this legend the rebuke of the Church against the selfish policy of the Crown, for no soldier of Leon drew sword in that great battle for the deliverance of Christendom. Castile and Navarre and Aragon were the people 1 See p. 140. 62 NORTHERN SPAIN that jeoparded their hves in the high places of the Morena. Nay, the Leonese monarch was even mean enough to seize the occasion for " rectifying his frontier " at the expense of his brother the Castihan. And this at a crisis wlien the very dead could rise from their graves and forget the feuds of their lifetime in the hour of national stress ! The main streets of the city are overshadowed by several fine Sol arcs, the mansions of the old hidalgos, and, beside all its churches and monasteries, the town boasts an attractive Guildhall. But perhaps its most interesting feature is supplied by the crowd that frequents them ; for Leon is the metropolis of a big agricultural population, a grave and stalwart race attired in the most picturesque old-world costumes. The dresses of the women are perhaps somewhat lacking in brightness ; for they have a taste for sombre shades, especially a mauve-coloured head kerchief which does not accord nearly so well with their olive complexions as the brilliant scarlets and yellows of the girls in Galicia and the south. But this quakerish tinge in the individual does not produce much effect in the aggregate, and they look bright enough in the busy market beneath their forest of umbrella- LEON The Market Place, and Casa del Ayuntamiento. t-*' LEONESE COSTUME 63 shaped booths. They are reputed to "wear Carambas in their hair," but this we cannot cor- roborate. They kept them discreetly covered with the kerchief— perhaps from fear of the poHce. In any case it is to be hoped that the fashion will not spread indiscriminately. Imagnie a German lady in a " Donncrwetter " coiffure \ CHAPTER IV THE PILGRIM ROAD " He that is minded to go to Santiago may fare thither in many ways both by sea and land " ; — and to continue in Sir John Mandeville's vein we might add " by the heavens also," for our old friend the Galaxy — Milk Street as it has been irreverently nicknamed — masquerades in Spain as the " Santiago road." The Holy Apostle himself stranded at El Padron (after a rapid passage from Joppa in three days and in a stone coffin) ; and the pious pilgrims of our own land were wont for the most part to take ship to Corufia. But the main pilgrim stream poured along the old Roman road through Leon and Astorga and the Vierzo passes ; and perhaps when the fame of the shrine was at its height there was no other spot in Europe which drew so great a throng. Even to this day we may catch faint echoes of its ancient celebrity :—" Please to remember the 64 LEONESE MARKET-FOLK 66 grotto ! " our school - children's August refrain. They do not know what they commemorate ; but their date (by the Julian calendar) and their grotto and candle-ends and cockle-shells are all the prerogatives of St James. As we thread the long poplar avenues which radiate from the gates of Leon, and climb from its fertile valley on to the bald bleak moors, we might almost persuade ourselves that the days of pilgrimage are not over even yet. The road is thronged for miles with a steady procession of country-folk, trooping into the early market in the old Gothic capital — as picturesque a medley as ever delighted the student of costume. JNlarket- women stride - legged between their donkey's panniers, like Dulcinea del Toboso when she was enchanted ; bronzed and tattered countrymen with the sun glinting on their shouldered scythes ; long teams of mules jingling in gaudy trappings ; and lumbering ox-carts with their prodigious loads of chaff. Here and there we met substantial yeomen well horsed and muffled, with their womenkind a-pilHon ; and sometimes a broad- breeched Maragato tramping along beside his loaded wain. The clear crisp light of the early morning revealed all the landscape in its brightest 9 66 NORTHERN SPAIN colours. To the southward the dun plain sweeps away unbroken till it is lost in illimitable dis- tance ; and the view to the northward is bounded by the long blue line of the Cantabrian mountains, peak beyond peak in endless range, like a string of chevrons on the horizon. No wonder the Spaniards call their mountain chains Sierras, "saws." The wide bed of the Orbigo river is crossed by a long uneven bridge ; the scene of the famous " Pass of Honour," dear to the heart of Don Quixote and all the annalists of chivalry. In the year of the great Jubilee at Santiago in 1439 Don Suero Quinones, a valiant Leonese, made a vow to maintain that bridge for thirty days against all knights who refused to admit the pre-eminent beauty of his lady-love. In token whereof an iron collar was riveted round his neck, not to be re- moved till he had redeemed his vow. He was a knight of the military order of Santiago, haihng from what is now the convent of San Marcos.^ But membership of the Spanish military orders was no impediment to love-making, or even to ^ This monastery is a very notable Leonese monument, a master- piece of Plaleresque, somewhat similar to the Otto Heinnchs Ban at Heidelberg, and formerly the property of the knights of Santiago, THE PASS OF HONOUR 67 marriage (except in the case of widowers) ; so that Don Suero (a Paladin of his day, who was wont to fight JMoors with his right arm bare Hke King Pentapohn of the Garamantas), w^is quite in order in paying tliese courtesies to the fair. Now there were many knights going to Santiago for the Jubilee, and Don Suero and his nine com- panions enjoyed an extremely busy time. Seven hundred and thirty combats did they accomplish during those thirty days — a daily working average of two and a half apiece. Don Suero, however, duly got rid of his collar, to his eternal honour and glory; and seeing that even Philip the Prudent had his story republished as a perpetual example, perhaps it is not surprising that poor Don Quixote should have taken the pamphlet au pied de la lettre. The bridge itself is long and narrow, with a pro- nounced kink in the middle, and if the tilts were actually run upon it, it is easy to understand the challenger's success. It needed but knowledge of the ground and a little judicious timing, and he could cut into his disordered opponent broadside as he rounded the bend. But doubtless this unworthy suggestion is a libel on the gallant Suero. His lists would have been fairly pitched in the open plain. When we crossed the venerable arches they were 68 NORTHERN SPAIN in the state described by Mr Chucks as " precarious and not at all permanent." The ox-carts preferred fording the river. But perhaps this has been " mitigated " by now. Another stage across the moorland brings us up under the massive ramparts of Astorga, standing " four square to all the winds that blow," as it stood in the days of that Cassar Augustus whose name it now so barbarously mis-spells.^ "It is absurd to speak of Astorga as a fortress," wrote the impatient Duke; "it is merely a walled town." And a walled town it is, most emphatically; but the "merely" seems rather inadequate, for the walls of Astorga are a trifle of twenty-two feet thick. They are sadly battered indeed, and mercilessly plundered of their facing stones ; yet their huge rugged nakedness, scowling truculently across the plain from the crest of their natural glacis, makes them a far more impressive spectacle than their house-encumbered rivals at Lugo and Leon. They have at all events stood two artillery sieges; for the citizens held them for two months against Junot in 1810, and the French for three against Castailos in 1812 ; yet the old Roman mason who built them might readily acknowledge them still. 1 Astorga = Asturica. ^?