I likewise gathered grapes from the parras and
berries from the brambles, and in this manner I subsisted till I
arrived at the bellotas, where I slaughtered a stray kid which I
met, and devoured part of the flesh raw, so great was my hunger.
It made me, however, very ill, and for two days I lay in a barranco
half dead and unable to help myself; it was a mercy that I was not
devoured by the wolves. I then struck across the country for
Oviedo: how I reached it I do not know; I was like one walking in
a dream. Last night I slept in an empty hog-sty about two leagues
from here, and ere I left it, I fell down on my knees and prayed to
God that I might find you, lieber herr, for you were my last hope.
Myself. - And what do you propose to do at present?
Benedict. - What can I say, lieber herr? I know not what to do. I
will be guided in everything by your counsel.
Myself. - I shall remain at Oviedo a few days longer, during which
time you can lodge at this posada, and endeavour to recover from
the fatigue of your disastrous journeys; perhaps before I depart,
we may hit on some plan to extricate you from your present
difficulties.
Oviedo contains about fifteen thousand inhabitants. It is
picturesquely situated between two mountains, Morcin and Naranco;
the former is very high and rugged, and during the greater part of
the year is covered with snow; the sides of the latter are
cultivated and planted with vines. The principal ornament of the
town is the cathedral, the tower of which is exceedingly lofty, and
is perhaps one of the purest specimens of Gothic architecture at
present in existence. The interior of the cathedral is neat and
appropriate, but simple and unadorned. I observed but one picture,
the Conversion of Saint Paul. One of the chapels is a cemetery, in
which rest the bones of eleven Gothic kings; to whose souls be
peace.
I bore a letter of recommendation from Coruna to a merchant of
Oviedo. This person received me very courteously, and generally
devoted some portion of every day to showing me the remarkable
things of Oviedo.
One morning he thus addressed me: "You have doubtless heard of
Feijoo, the celebrated philosophic monk of the order of Saint
Benedict, whose writings have so much tended to remove the popular
fallacies and superstitions so long cherished in Spain; he is
buried in one of our convents, where he passed a considerable
portion of his life. Come with me and I will show you his
portrait.
