Winter in England and in Spain; Journey from Murcia; Orihuela and its Huerta; Inhabitants, and Superstition; a Muleteer’s Story; La Granja, and effects of the Earthquake of 1829; Elche, and its Forest of Palms; Commerce; the Date; arrival at Alicant; magnificent Houses; Situation of Alicant; the Feast of the Patron Saint; peculiarity in Alicant Society; Political Restrictions on Society; the Trade and Exports of Alicant; Barilla, the Huerta; an extraordinary Law-suit; Dangerous Road to San Felipe; Montforte, Novilda, and Elda; the Feast of the Concepcion Purissima; Sax, and Villena; Recontre with Moorish Physicians; Fuente de Higuera; Soldiers’ Opinions; charming Scenes; the Algarrobo; arrival at San Felipe; magnificent Moorish Remains; Relics of Moorish Customs; Journey to Valencia; Conversation with a Dominican Friar; the Plain of Valencia; Spring and Autumn in Spain; arrival at Valencia.
If I were anxious to impress any one with a favourable idea of Spanish scenery, I would carry him from Murcia to Alicant, by Orihuela; for the beauty and the novelty of the views upon this route, absolutely beggar description. It is here particularly, where we learn to understand the singular charm of palm-tree groves; and I was informed by a gentleman, who before travelling this road had visited those spots in both Africa and in Asia where the date is most abundant, that he had nowhere found it in so great perfection as between Murcia and Alicant.
There is a diligence upon this road, which makes the transit in ten hours; but I preferred hiring a tartana, and employing two days on the journey. I accordingly left Murcia about sunrise, journeying along the left bank of the river Segura; and while I sat in the tartana, with all its curtains withdrawn, feeling the air so mild that I was even forced to throw aside my cloak, though it was little more than day-break, I transported myself in imagination to my native land, and its December fogs, and frosts and snows. How different was a Spanish December! Here, was no hazy atmosphere,—no raw, damp winds,—no rain, or sleet, or snow, or cloudy sky. I never saw a June or July morning in England finer than this. The sun rose into a cloudless heaven; not a speck was visible from horizon to horizon: it was the calm of a summer morning, and the softness of summer air; and when I turned to the bright green livery in which the earth was arrayed, it seemed as if Spring had borrowed for a day the graces of a riper season.
About a league from Murcia we passed under the rock and Moorish castle I had seen from the tower of the cathedral, and gradually ascending among the outer ridges of the mountains, and winding through some sweet secluded valleys, the towers of Orihuela appeared over a little promontory; and about eleven o’clock I reached the posada to breakfast.
Orihuela is famous upon many accounts. It is famous for the extreme beauty of its situation, and the unrivalled fertility of its huerta: it is famous for the undue number of its churches and convents: it is famous for its superstition, and it is famous for its demoralization. The three last are consequent upon each other. Even the vale of Murcia yields in beauty and fertility to the Huerta of Orihuela; because the latter is more abundantly supplied with water. I thought the greenness of the vale of Murcia could not be exceeded; but I was mistaken. I found the Huerta of Orihuela greener still: and the greater variety in the trees with which it is thickly strewn, give to it another claim of preference; for, mingled with the mulberry, the orange, and the fig, are seen the cypress, the silver elm, and the pomegranate; and there too, the palm, in place of lifting at wide intervals one solitary crown, seems to have found its element; and, rising in clusters, lends novelty as well as beauty to the enchanting scene.
As for the number of churches and convents in Orihuela, its superstition, and demoralization, I can speak only of the first; but it is highly probable, that where priests and friars so much abound, superstition and bigotry should abound also. I walked into the parish church of St. Augusta; and found a most unusual concourse of persons at prayer; there was not a saint around the church who had not found several worshippers; and I noticed that in one of the larger chapels, where mass was then performing, the devout people of Orihuela were not contented with the lowest prostration, but beat their breasts in an agony of devotion; and I have no doubt that if any one had set the example of flagellation, it would have been followed with spirit and effect. In returning from the church, I saw two boys in the habits of Augustin friars; and the population of the town appeared to possess in an uncommon degree, the character of idleness, and its attendant, poverty. No one seemed to have any thing to do, and no one had the air of being anxious to do any thing. The men had taken to themselves, their winter cloaks; and although the weather was so warm, that when walking in advance of the tartana, I sedulously sought out the shade, every one stood with his back to a sunny wall, folded up to the nose, and immoveable, unless when a friar passing by, demanded a salutation of reverence.
At the Posada, at Orihuela, I succeeded in getting a little milk for the first time since leaving Seville, and made ready my chocolate in the English fashion. Nothing is so difficult to be had in Spain, as milk. Cows’ milk is a luxury not to be dreamed of, excepting in the very largest cities; and even goats’ milk is far from plentiful; milk, in fact, is an aliment of which the Spaniards make no use.
From Orihuela, I skirted the Huerta, passing close under the range of hills that bound it on the north; and noticing a cross on the summit of a perpendicular rock, and another beneath it, I inquired of the muleteer, the cause of their erection,—and he in reply, told me a melancholy story, how a certain friar of Orihuela was grievously tempted by the flesh; and how he dreamt, that to escape from temptation, he must go to the brow of a certain mountain—a dream that was doubtless sent by the devil,—and how that when he arrived there, the damsel who stood between him and heaven, was waiting for him; and how he, being a holy man, and seeing no means of escape but one, commended himself to the saints, and leapt from the summit of the rock; but the saints, unwilling that he should commit suicide, even to escape from another deadly sin, bore him up, and he walked back to the convent. But every day he returned to this rock to pray; and when he died, his body was miraculously conveyed from the convent to that spot, beneath which it was buried.
Soon after passing these crosses, we reached a village, whose name I have forgotten; but the entrance to it was marked by some beautiful and extensive inclosures,—thickets of orange trees and pomegranates, surrounded by a row of stately palms. The next village we arrived at was La Granja, situated also amid groves of oranges and palms, but exhibiting in its ruined dwellings, and almost houseless population, the awful effects of the earthquake of 1829 that spread ruin and desolation over some of the fairest valleys in Murcia. This road possesses a peculiar and sad interest, from conducting the traveller through these melancholy scenes. La Granja suffered severely by the visitation. I scarcely saw one upper story standing, and the greater number of the houses had been levelled with the ground. Upon the sites of these, the owners had built low houses of one story; and those of which the lower story still remained, were inhabited in that part which had withstood the shock. The tower of the church had not been thrown down, but I noticed a wide rent from the top to the bottom.
The earthquake of 1829 took place on the 21st of March. In the morning the sky was serene, and the atmosphere clear; but towards mid-day clouds began to rise, and the sky was soon obscured; the wind also entirely fell, and it was a perfect calm. The shock took place at six in the evening, and lasted only five seconds; but in these five seconds it spread death and ruin wherever it was felt. Fifteen towns and villages were less or more injured. Torre Viejo, on the sea-coast, four leagues from Orihuela, was entirely destroyed; and in that town, in Almosida and La Granja, between five and six hundred persons were swallowed up, or were buried among the ruins of their homes. Torre Viejo is rebuilt with timber houses of one story. In that place, every day renews the recollection of its misfortune; for it is a singular fact, that a day never passes over Torre Viejo that a slight shock of earthquake is not felt. At Orihuela the shock was severe: many houses were rent, some few injured, but no lives were lost. At Alicant the shock was also alarming, although, there, little actual damage was sustained. A gentleman of that city related to me, that while he sat writing, he felt a very slight motion, which he knew to be produced by an earthquake, for slight shocks of earthquake have always been of common recurrence throughout Murcia; thinking it possible that the shock might be repeated, he walked to the balcony, and at the same moment his anticipations proved too true: he saw the wall of the house rock to and fro, and almost immediately afterwards found himself, without knowing how, in the great square, where the whole of the inhabitants were already assembled, testifying their alarm in all the modes by which human fear can find expression. The shock was sensibly felt in the harbour of Alicant; it seemed to those who were embarked, as if the vessels had struck against each other. It is no more than justice to add, that subscriptions for the destitute sufferers were universal throughout Spain, and that the king liberally aided the subscription from his own purse.