Spain in 1830, vol. 2

by Henry D. Inglis

From Elda and its vale, we passed through a wild country to Sax; a romantic town, overlooked by a castle perched upon the top of a rock as high as that of Alicant. There we only stopped to take in a supply of bread, for which Sax is famous, and proceeded towards Villena, still through a wild country. On the road, we met a coach filled with travellers, and escorted by five soldiers; and also a gentleman on horseback, with an escort of two soldiers; proving that I was not singular in the precaution I had taken. Villena has also its rock, and castle, and huerta, the latter larger than those of Elda or Sax, because Villena is a place of some size, containing several convents and churches, and nearly 8,000 inhabitants. The vine is extensively grown upon the lower acclivities of the neighbouring sierra, and is almost all converted into brandy. The population of this town appeared to me to present a singularly disreputable appearance—beggarly, idle, ragged, and ruffian-like; this, I was informed, was to be attributed to the great plenty and cheapness of brandy, which had produced its usual effects upon those who indulged in it without moderation.

Leaving Villena, we entered the Sierra that lies between it and Fuente de Higuera; this is considered the most dangerous part of the road; and as it would be dusk before we could reach Fuente de Higuera, the soldiers new primed their guns, and armed me with a sabre, and we kept close together. We had a singular, and certainly very interesting rencontre, by the way. In travelling through a narrow valley covered with aromatic shrubs, I noticed upon one of the slopes, two figures in a stooping posture, whom I at first mistook for women; but upon coming near, I discovered them to be tawny Moors, clothed in the Moorish dress, and that they were engaged in searching for something on the ground: we passed within a hundred yards of them, and exchanged salutations; and I observed, that each carried a tolerably large basket. I did not learn the explanation of what I had seen till I reached San Felipe; every year, in Spring, and in Autumn, the Moorish physicians come to these parts from the shores of Africa, to gather medicinal plants,—a custom that may be called the only remaining tie between Barbary and Spain.

Descending the mountain towards Fuente de Higuera, I observed a scorpion on the path; and several young eagles flew over our heads: the soldiers fired at them,—of course without effect; and soon after these various encounters, we came in sight of the town, lying among elevated brown mountains, and surrounded with ilex woods; and about dusk we reached the Posada. At this place I discharged the soldiers, all fine young men, who I am convinced would have done their duty if their services had been called for. They told me that Spain was the finest country in the world; that they were well and regularly paid; and had nothing to complain of; that they were ready to fight against whosoever the king commanded; and that they hoped they should not spend all their days in inaction. I commended them for their loyalty, which is always a virtue in a soldier towards the actual king,—gave them a dollar more than their due, and sent them away contented.

At Fuente de Higuera, I had the luxury of a hare for supper, and the still greater luxury of a flealess bed: and next morning betimes, I was on my way to San Felipe. This is a delightful road; we ascended a narrow, but very charming valley, presenting at every turn new and picturesque prospects. It is traversed all the way by a stream, which in the eastern provinces of Spain is always made to fertilize its banks: a beautiful stripe of green lay along its margin; vines and fruit trees clothed the lower acclivities of the mountains, which higher up, were scattered with the ilex and algarrobo. This is a very useful tree; the bean, which it bears plentifully, is found to be a wholesome and nutricious food for cattle; and the great abundance of the tree in the south and east of Spain, renders it as cheap as it is useful. The algarrobo, besides its utility, is one of the most beautiful of trees, full in its foliage, and rich in colour. The valley through which we travelled, lay on the right; barren hills rose on the left, close to the road; and the infinity of aromatic and flowering plants and shrubs with which these were covered, surpassed anything of the kind that I had yet seen in Spain: the heaths, in particular, delighted me; they were all in flower, their hues varying from the deep crimson, to the pale pink, and their bell shaped blossoms, larger and more beautiful than the heaths I had been accustomed to admire in the glass houses of England. Several villages lay under the mountains, and we passed two large ventas, situated on the road; but the most striking object is the castle of Montesa, upon a very high rock, and the town surrounding its base. The castle is a ruin, having been entirely destroyed by an earthquake nearly a hundred years ago. Soon after, San Felipe appeared at about a league distant, most romantically situated in a recess among the mountains, with a rich vale stretching before it: the direct road to Valencia does not pass through San Felipe: it is a detour of two leagues; but I wished to see this fine old Moorish city, and it had been arranged that I should rest there one night. We accordingly left the road, and followed a narrow track through the Huerta to San Felipe, where I arrived about two o’clock.

I was much pleased with San Felipe; and the magnificence and extent of the Moorish remains in its neighbourhood struck me with astonishment, even after having seen the Alhambra. These crown a hill that rises immediately behind the city; the hill is twice the height of that upon which the Alhambra stands, and the ruins at San Felipe are also greatly more extensive; they are not, indeed, like the Alhambra, in preservation; nor do they present the terraces, and arches, and columns, that at once point out its Moorish origin: but they are splendid ruins, covering the summit of a mountain ridge a thousand or twelve hundred feet high, and presenting in fine relief, against the sky, an irregular line not less than two miles in extent, of massive and imposing ruins. I did not climb to the summit, but I ascended about half way to enjoy the prospect, which on every side was picturesque or beautiful. The magnificent ruins behind, and the thick wood of Algarrobos that filled every hollow of the mountain,—the city below, and its green huerta, and convents situated upon projecting points, with rocks behind, and orange groves below, formed the features of the landscape; and at a distance, between the mountains, a vista was caught of the wide and rich plain of Valencia.

Descending from the mountain to the posada, I noticed a fountain from which no fewer than twenty-five full streams were flowing; and from other fountains on the paseo, many other streams united with these, and flowed in a brimful rivulet, towards the huerta, to cover it with fertility and beauty. Passing along the street, I observed many signs of Moorish days, more than either in Seville or Granada: in a court-yard which I entered, mistaking it for that of the posada, I noticed that the walls were arabesque; and looking in at the doors of the shops and houses, I scarcely saw a single person seated upon a chair, or even upon a stool; every one was squatted upon a mat. I walked through the cathedral, but saw nothing worthy of observation; and returned to the posada, where I fared well, and found the most delicious wine I had yet tasted in Spain;—how different from the small vin de pays of France.

San Felipe has no fewer than ten convents, seven for men, and three for women; and it contains about 12,000 inhabitants, the whole of whom find employment and subsistence from the huerta; for the city contains no manufacture of any kind.

I left San Felipe about day-break; and after skirting the huerta, we began to ascend the range of hills that separated us from the plain of Valencia. I had set out on foot from San Felipe, and made but slow progress towards these hills, being often tempted to stand and look back towards the ruins, which had alone caught the golden hue of sunrise.

I had for some time observed a friar before me, upon a small mule, and in ascending the height I overtook him, and we entered into conversation. He complained of his manner of travelling, not being accustomed to ride, and readily accepted a seat in the tartana. I bore him company for the sake of society, and my muleteer mounted his mule. He was a young friar of the Dominican order, then scarcely eighteen,—his youth rendered him communicative, more so than might perhaps have been approved of by his superior; and I obtained from him some particulars respecting himself and his convent. He had entered the convent at thirteen. I asked him what was his motive? He replied, that it was attachment to the monastic life that led him to adopt it, and that he had entered upon it contrary to the wishes of his parents, especially his mother. When I observed that it would have been a greater virtue, and more his duty, to have remained with his mother, to comfort and cherish her,—he said it was better as it was, for that now he was sure of meeting her in heaven, which otherwise might have been doubtful. When I remarked that thirteen was too early an age to enter into a convent, he replied that it was better and safer never to have known the world; and when I enquired of him whether he would still enter a convent, supposing him to be now free? he answered that he would; for that it was the only sure road to heaven: but when we became better acquainted, he admitted that the monastic life was triste; and I could discover, that he occasionally doubted whether he was happy. Ignorance of the world, and the seclusion of a monastery from childhood, are insufficient to change human nature; or to hinder the indulgence of a suspicion, that the world is not barren of enjoyments.

He gave me some account of the manner in which he spent his time. The Dominican is a strict order, and one that makes study an obligation. Philosophy and theology occupied a great part of the day. The friars met together only one hour in the twenty-four; and all the rest, excepting those devoted to sleep, were spent in study of one kind or another, and in religious exercises. One day in the week only, this young friar was allowed to leave the convent and walk in the garden; and only twice in the year it was permitted to go into the city. The old friars, however, were allowed greater indulgence in these matters. The rules of the order do not admit of animal food: fish, vegetables, and fowls are alone permitted; but the friar told me that the fish is often very various, and well cooked. The friars rise at four in summer, and at five in winter. They are allowed two habits in the year, and each costs seventeen dollars. The conversation among the friars during the hour when they meet together, is generally upon philosophical or theological subjects, and sometimes politics; but the young friar was no doubt still ignorant of the conversation which those who are emancipated from the restraints put upon youth, hold with each other; for Dominican councils have not always been held in their hall of recreation. I was also informed, that some of the friars in this convent understood several languages; and that the books being selected by the superiors, there was no restraint upon the study of these. Three of the friars also understood music; and in the convent there were three pianos. I omitted to say, that the young friar possessed property before entering the convent, amounting to 120l. a year.