Ascend the belfry of Santa Maria la Mayor and you command an unrivalled view. Spread out beneath your gaze stretch away tawny expanses of waste and veld to a radius averaging forty miles, and everywhere girt-in by encircling mountains. To the north Grédos’ snowy peaks pierce the clouds, 100 kilometres away, with the Sierra de Gata on their left, Bejar on the right. To the eastward the Sierra de Guadalupe,[36] far-famed for its shrine to Our Lady of that ilk, closes that horizon; while to westward the ranges of Sta. Cruz and Montánches shut in the frontier of Portugal. What a panorama—a circle eighty miles across!
Yet in all that expanse you can detect no more evidence of human presence than you would see in equatorial Africa—surveying, let us say, the well-known Athi Plains from the adjoining heights of Lukénia.
We are aware that already, in describing La Mancha, we have employed an African simile; but here, in Estremadura, the comparison is yet more apposite and forceful than in the wildest of Don Quixote’s country. We will vary it by likening Estremadura rather to the highlands of Transvaal—the land of the back-veld Boer—than to Equatoria. Here, as there, rocky koppies stud the wastes, and (differing from La Mancha) water-courses traverse them, with intermittent pools surviving even in June, stagnant and pestilent. Such in Africa would be jungle-fringed—worth trying for a lion! Here their naked banks scarce provide covert for a hare.
An index of the poverty-stricken condition of Estremadura is afforded by the comparative absence of the birds-of-prey. Never do the soaring vultures—elsewhere so characteristic of Spanish skies—catch one’s eye, and very rarely an eagle or buzzard. A province that cannot support scavengers promises ill for mankind.
In his mirror-like “Notes from Spain,” Richard Ford suggested that the vast unknown wildernesses of Estremadura would, if explored, yield store of wealth to the naturalist, and each succeeding naturalist (ourselves included) followed that clue. Therein, however, lurked that old human error, ignotum pro mirabili. Deserted by man, the region is equally avoided by bird and beast. We write generally and in full sense of local exceptions—that wild fallow-deer, for example, find here one, possibly their only European home;[37] that red deer of superb dimensions, roe, wolves, and wild-boars abound on Estremenian sierra and vega. Then, too, there may well be isolated spots of interest in 20,000 square miles, but which escaped our survey. Yet what we write represents the essential fact—Estremadura is a barren lifeless wilderness and offers no more attraction to naturalist than to agriculturist.
The cause of all this involves questions not easily answered. In earlier days the case may have been different. Obviously the Romans thought highly of Estremadura and meant to run it for all it was worth. The Caesars were no visionaries, and such colossal works as their reservoirs and aqueducts at Merida, the massive amphitheatre and circus at the same city (a half-completed bull-ring stands alongside in pitiful contrast), besides their construction of a first-class fortress at Trujillo, all attest a matured judgment. After the Romans came the Goths, and they, too, have left evidence of appreciation (though less conspicuous) alike in city and country. Four hundred years later the Arabs overthrew the Goths on Guadalete (A.D. 711), and within two years had overrun two-thirds of Spain. But the Moor (so far as we can see) despised these barren uplands, or perhaps assessed them at a truer value—a single strong outpost (Trujillo) in an otherwise worthless region.
Much or little, however, each of those successive conquerors found some use for Estremadura. A totally different era opened with the fall of Moslem dominion. After the Reconquista and subsequent extermination of the Moors (seventeenth century), Estremadura was utterly abandoned, by Cross and Crescent alike, till the highland shepherds of the Castiles and of León, looking down from its northern frontier, saw in these lower-lying wastes a useful winter-grazing. Then commenced seasonal nomadic incursions thereto, pastoral tribes driving down each autumn their flocks and herds, much as the Patriarchs did in Biblical days—or the Masai in East Africa till yesterday.
Though the land itself was ownerless, shadowy prescriptive rights gradually evolved, and under the title of Mestas continued to be recognised by the pastoral nomads till abolished by Royal Decree in the sixteenth century. From that date commenced the subdivision of Estremadura into the present large private estates—again recalling the back-veld Boers, who hate to live one within sight of another, except that here owners are non-resident.
All this may explain superficially the existing desolation. The essential causes, however, are, we believe, (1) barrenness of soil; and (2) an enervating climate, fever-infected by stagnant waters, dead pools, and ubiquitous shallow swamps that poison the air and produce mosquitoes in millions.