Presently Arrived The Handmaid Of The Alcalde With A Basket, Which
She Took Into The Kitchen, Where She Prepared An Excellent Supper
For Her Master's Friend.
On its being served up the alcalde bade
me farewell, having first demanded whether he could in any way
forward my plans.
"I return to Saint James to-morrow," I replied, "and I sincerely
hope that some occasion will occur which will enable me to acquaint
the world with the hospitality which I have experienced from so
accomplished a scholar as the Alcalde of Corcuvion."
CHAPTER XXXI
Coruna - Crossing the Bay - Ferrol - The Dockyard - Where are we now? -
Greek Ambassador - Lantern-light - The Ravine - Viveiro - Evening -
Marsh and Quagmire - Fair Words and Fair Money - The Leathern Girth -
Eyes of Lynx - The Knavish Guide.
From Corcuvion I returned to Saint James and Coruna, and now began
to make preparation for directing my course to the Asturias. In
the first place I parted with my Andalusian horse, which I
considered unfit for the long and mountainous journey I was about
to undertake; his constitution having become much debilitated from
his Gallegan travels. Owing to horses being exceedingly scarce at
Coruna, I had no difficulty in disposing of him at a far higher
price than he originally cost me. A young and wealthy merchant of
Coruna, who was a national guardsman, became enamoured of his
glossy skin and long mane and tail. For my own part, I was glad to
part with him for more reasons than one; he was both vicious and
savage, and was continually getting me into scrapes in the stables
of the posadas where we slept or baited. An old Castilian peasant,
whose pony he had maltreated, once said to me, "Sir Cavalier, if
you have any love or respect for yourself, get rid I beseech you of
that beast, who is capable of proving the ruin of a kingdom." So I
left him behind at Coruna, where I subsequently learned that he
became glandered and died. Peace to his memory!
From Coruna I crossed the bay to Ferrol, whilst Antonio with our
remaining horse followed by land, a rather toilsome and circuitous
journey, although the distance by water is scarcely three leagues.
I was very sea-sick during the passage, and lay almost senseless at
the bottom of the small launch in which I had embarked, and which
was crowded with people. The wind was adverse, and the water
rough. We could make no sail, but were impelled along by the oars
of five or six stout mariners, who sang all the while Gallegan
ditties. Suddenly the sea appeared to have become quite smooth,
and my sickness at once deserted me. I rose upon my feet and
looked around. We were in one of the strangest places imaginable.
A long and narrow passage overhung on either side by a stupendous
barrier of black and threatening rocks. The line of the coast was
here divided by a natural cleft, yet so straight and regular that
it seemed not the work of chance but design. The water was dark
and sullen, and of immense depth. This passage, which is about a
mile in length, is the entrance to a broad basin, at whose farther
extremity stands the town of Ferrol.
Sadness came upon me as soon as I entered this place. Grass was
growing in the streets, and misery and distress stared me in the
face on every side. Ferrol is the grand naval arsenal of Spain,
and has shared in the ruin of the once splendid Spanish navy: it
is no longer thronged with those thousand shipwrights who prepared
for sea the tremendous three-deckers and long frigates, the greater
part of which were destroyed at Trafalgar. Only a few ill-paid and
half-starved workmen still linger about, scarcely sufficient to
repair any guarda costa which may put in dismantled by the fire of
some English smuggling schooner from Gibraltar. Half the
inhabitants of Ferrol beg their bread; and amongst these, as it is
said, are not unfrequently found retired naval officers, many of
them maimed or otherwise wounded, who are left to pine in
indigence; their pensions or salaries having been allowed to run
three or four years in arrear, owing to the exigencies of the
times. A crowd of importunate beggars followed me to the posada,
and even attempted to penetrate to the apartment to which I was
conducted. "Who are you?" said I to a woman who flung herself at
my feet, and who bore in her countenance evident marks of former
gentility. "A widow, sir," she replied, in very good French; "a
widow of a brave officer, once admiral of this port." The misery
and degradation of modern Spain are nowhere so strikingly
manifested as at Ferrol.
Yet even here there is still much to admire. Notwithstanding its
present state of desolation, it contains some good streets, and
abounds with handsome houses. The alameda is planted with nearly a
thousand elms, of which almost all are magnificent trees, and the
poor Ferrolese, with the genuine spirit of localism so prevalent in
Spain, boast that their town contains a better public walk than
Madrid, of whose prado, when they compare the two, they speak in
terms of unmitigated contempt. At one end of this alameda stands
the church, the only one in Ferrol. To this church I repaired the
day after my arrival, which was Sunday. I found it quite
insufficient to contain the number of worshippers who, chiefly from
the country, not only crowded the interior, but, bare-headed, were
upon their knees before the door to a considerable distance down
the walk.
Parallel with the alameda extends the wall of the naval arsenal and
dock. I spent several hours in walking about these places, to
visit which it is necessary to procure a written permission from
the captain-general of Ferrol. They filled me with astonishment.
I have seen the royal dockyards of Russia and England, but for
grandeur of design and costliness of execution, they cannot for a
moment compare with these wonderful monuments of the bygone naval
pomp of Spain.
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