Grand Are Its Mountains, And No Less
Grand Are Its Plains, Which Seem Of Boundless Extent, But Which Are
Not Tame Unbroken Flats, Like The Steppes Of Russia.
Rough and
uneven ground is continually occurring:
Here a deep ravine and
gully worn by the wintry torrent; yonder an eminence not
unfrequently craggy and savage, at whose top appears the lone
solitary village. There is little that is blithesome and cheerful,
but much that is melancholy. A few solitary rustics are
occasionally seen toiling in the fields - fields without limit or
boundary, where the green oak, the elm or the ash are unknown;
where only the sad and desolate pine displays its pyramid-like
form, and where no grass is to be found. And who are the
travellers of these districts? For the most part arrieros, with
their long trains of mules hung with monotonous tinkling bells.
Behold them with their brown faces, brown dresses, and broad
slouched hats; - the arrieros, the true lords of the roads of Spain,
and to whom more respect is paid in these dusty ways than to dukes
and condes; - the arrieros, sullen, proud, and rarely courteous,
whose deep voices may be sometimes heard at the distance of a mile,
either cheering the sluggish animals, or shortening the dreary way
with savage and dissonant songs.
Late in the afternoon, we reached Medina del Campo, formerly one of
the principal cities of Spain, though at present an inconsiderable
place. Immense ruins surround it in every direction, attesting the
former grandeur of this "city of the plain." The great square or
market-place is a remarkable spot, surrounded by a heavy massive
piazza, over which rise black buildings of great antiquity. We
found the town crowded with people awaiting the fair, which was to
be held in a day or two. We experienced some difficulty in
obtaining admission into the posada, which was chiefly occupied by
Catalans from Valladolid. These people not only brought with them
their merchandise but their wives and children. Some of them
appeared to be people of the worst description: there was one in
particular, a burly savage-looking fellow, of about forty, whose
conduct was atrocious; he sat with his wife, or perhaps concubine,
at the door of a room which opened upon the court: he was
continually venting horrible and obscene oaths, both in Spanish and
Catalan. The woman was remarkably handsome, but robust and
seemingly as savage as himself; her conversation likewise was as
frightful as his own. Both seemed to be under the influence of an
incomprehensible fury. At last, upon some observation from the
woman, he started up, and drawing a long knife from his girdle,
stabbed at her naked bosom; she, however, interposed the palm of
her hand, which was much cut. He stood for a moment viewing the
blood trickling upon the ground, whilst she held up her wounded
hand, then with an astounding oath he hurried up the court to the
Plaza. I went up to the woman and said, "What is the cause of
this? I hope the ruffian has not seriously injured you." She
turned her countenance upon me with the glance of a demon, and at
last with a sneer of contempt exclaimed, "Carals, que es eso?
Cannot a Catalan gentleman be conversing with his lady upon their
own private affairs without being interrupted by you?" She then
bound up her hand with a handkerchief, and going into the room
brought a small table to the door, on which she placed several
things as if for the evening's repast, and then sat down on a
stool: presently returned the Catalan, and without a word took his
seat on the threshold; then, as if nothing had occurred, the
extraordinary couple commenced eating and drinking, interlarding
their meal with oaths and jests.
We spent the night at Medina, and departing early next morning,
passed through much the same country as the day before, until about
noon we reached a small venta, distant half a league from the
Duero; here we reposed ourselves during the heat of the day, and
then remounting, crossed the river by a handsome stone bridge, and
directed our course to Valladolid. The banks of the Duero in this
place have much beauty: they abound with trees and brushwood,
amongst which, as we passed along, various birds were singing
melodiously. A delicious coolness proceeded from the water, which
in some parts brawled over stones or rippled fleetly over white
sand, and in others glided softly over blue pools of considerable
depth. By the side of one of these last, sat a woman of about
thirty, neatly dressed as a peasant; she was gazing upon the water
into which she occasionally flung flowers and twigs of trees. I
stopped for a moment to ask a question; she, however, neither
looked up nor answered, but continued gazing at the water as if
lost to consciousness of all beside. "Who is that woman?" said I
to a shepherd, whom I met the moment after. "She is mad, la
pobrecita," said he; "she lost her child about a month ago in that
pool, and she has been mad ever since; they are going to send her
to Valladolid, to the Casa de los Locos. There are many who perish
every year in the eddies of the Duero; it is a bad river; vaya
usted con la Virgen, Caballero." So I rode on through the pinares,
or thin scanty pine forests, which skirt the way to Valladolid in
this direction.
Valladolid is seated in the midst of an immense valley, or rather
hollow which seems to have been scooped by some mighty convulsion
out of the plain ground of Castile. The eminences which appear in
the neighbourhood are not properly high grounds, but are rather the
sides of this hollow. They are jagged and precipitous, and exhibit
a strange and uncouth appearance. Volcanic force seems at some
distant period to have been busy in these districts. Valladolid
abounds with convents, at present deserted, which afford some of
the finest specimens of architecture in Spain.
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