The Same Dress, The Same Look, The Same Book.
Pelham Gave Me One In Egypt.
Farewell!
Your Jesus was a good man,
perhaps a prophet; but . . . farewell!
Well may the people of Pontevedra envy the natives of Vigo their
bay, with which, in many respects, none other in the world can
compare. On every side it is defended by steep and sublime hills,
save on the part of the west, where is the outlet to the Atlantic;
but in the midst of this outlet, up towers a huge rocky wall, or
island, which breaks the swell, and prevents the billows of the
western sea from pouring through in full violence. On either side
of this island is a passage, so broad, that navies might pass
through at all times in safety. The bay itself is oblong, running
far into the land, and so capacious, that a thousand sail of the
line might ride in it uncrowded. The waters are dark, still, and
deep, without quicksands or shallows, so that the proudest man-of-
war might lie within a stone's throw of the town ramparts without
any fear of injuring her keel.
Of many a strange event, and of many a mighty preparation has this
bay been the scene. It was here that the bulky dragons of the
grand armada were mustered, and it was from hence that, fraught
with the pomp, power, and terror of old Spain, the monster fleet,
spreading its enormous sails to the wind, and bent on the ruin of
the Lutheran isle, proudly steered; - that fleet, to build and man
which half the forests of Galicia had been felled, and all the
mariners impressed from the thousand bays and creeks of the stern
Cantabrian shore. It was here that the united flags of Holland and
England triumphed over the pride of Spain and France; when the
burning timbers of exploded war-ships soared above the tops of the
Gallegan hills, and blazing galleons sank with their treasure
chests whilst drifting in the direction of Sampayo. It was on the
shores of this bay that the English guards first emptied Spanish
bodegas, whilst the bombs of Cobham were crushing the roofs of the
castle of Castro, and the vecinos of Pontevedra buried their
doubloons in cellars, and flying posts were conveying to Lugo and
Orensee the news of the heretic invasion and the disaster of Vigo.
All these events occurred to my mind as I stood far up the hill, at
a short distance from the fort, surveying the bay.
"What are you doing there, Cavalier?" roared several voices.
"Stay, Carracho! if you attempt to run we will shoot you!" I
looked round and saw three or four fellows in dirty uniforms, to
all appearance soldiers, just above me, on a winding path, which
led up the hill. Their muskets were pointed at me. "What am I
doing? Nothing, as you see," said I, "save looking at the bay; and
as for running, this is by no means ground for a course." "You are
our prisoner," said they, "and you must come with us to the fort."
"I was just thinking of going there," I replied, "before you thus
kindly invited me. The fort is the very spot I was desirous of
seeing." I thereupon climbed up to the place where they stood,
when they instantly surrounded me, and with this escort I was
marched into the fort, which might have been a strong place in its
time, but was now rather ruinous. "You are suspected of being a
spy," said the corporal, who walked in front. "Indeed," said I.
"Yes," replied the corporal, "and several spies have lately been
taken and shot."
Upon one of the parapets of the fort stood a young man, dressed as
a subaltern officer, and to this personage I was introduced. "We
have been watching you this half hour," said he, "as you were
taking observations." "Then you gave yourselves much useless
trouble," said I. "I am an Englishman, and was merely looking at
the bay. Have the kindness now to show me the fort." . . .
After some conversation, he said, "I wish to be civil to people of
your nation, you may therefore consider yourself at liberty." I
bowed, made my exit, and proceeded down the hill. Just before I
entered the town, however, the corporal, who had followed me
unperceived, tapped me on the shoulder. "You must go with me to
the governor," said he. "With all my heart," I replied. The
governor was shaving, when we were shown up to him. He was in his
shirt sleeves, and held a razor in his hand. He looked very ill-
natured, which was perhaps owing to his being thus interrupted in
his toilet. He asked me two or three questions, and on learning
that I had a passport, and was the bearer of a letter to the
English consul, he told me that I was at liberty to depart. So I
bowed to the governor of the town, as I had done to the governor of
the fort, and making my exit proceeded to my inn.
At Vigo I accomplished but little in the way of distribution, and
after a sojourn of a few days, I returned in the direction of Saint
James.
CHAPTER XXIX
Arrival at Padron - Projected Enterprise - The Alquilador - Breach of
Promise - An Odd Companion - A Plain Story - Rugged Paths - The
Desertion - The Pony - A Dialogue - Unpleasant Situation - The Estadea-
-Benighted - The Hut - The Traveller's Pillow.
I arrived at Padron late in the evening, on my return from
Pontevedra and Vigo. It was my intention at this place to send my
servant and horses forward to Santiago, and to hire a guide to Cape
Finisterra. It would be difficult to assign any plausible reason
for the ardent desire which I entertained to visit this place; but
I remembered that last year I had escaped almost by a miracle from
shipwreck and death on the rocky sides of this extreme point of the
Old World, and I thought that to convey the Gospel to a place so
wild and remote, might perhaps be considered an acceptable
pilgrimage in the eyes of my Maker.
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