From Valladolid to Burgos, some seventy miles by diligence, the road was dry and dusty, and the country uninteresting; the villages were poor, and the soil badly cultivated. The land tax, and the conscription for the army, are discouraging to the cultivator of the soil; the youth are liable to be taken and forced to quit their native country, and sent to the Island of Cuba, or the Philippine Islands, as was the case recently while I was in Santander. Some two hundred were sent off in a crowded vessel at this unpropitious season, to arrive in the yellow fever months at Havana.
The city of Burgos was sacked and burnt by the French army in 1808, and its population of fifty thousand dwindled down to twelve thousand; but it is mostly rebuilt, and presents a tolerable appearance. The great attraction for strangers is its Gothic Cathedral, one of the finest in Spain, and of great antiquity, having been commenced in the year 1221. It was respected by the French during the war. This immense edifice has two towers with spires of open stonework, which in the distance appear as light as lace-work, and one wonders how it can endure this blustering climate. The chapels are as large as some churches, and filled with tombs of sculptured marble and stained glass. The white stone of some of the interior walls and buttresses inclosing the choir represents in sculpture the life of Christ, his agony, the supporting of the cross, the crucifixion and ascension; the building, like other edifices of the kind in Spain, is a perfect museum of art, pictures, statuary, and carved wood. The ceremonies of the Ascension were consummated while I was there, in the presence of a vast assemblage from town and country, giving one a good opportunity to observe the variety of character and costume.
From Burgos to Santander, the northern Atlantic shore of Spain, is ninety miles; the first portion is dreary and badly cultivated, and the hills are high and arid; but suddenly some of the most charming valleys appear, and the face of nature as well as the condition of men changes, as we approach a commercial port. Santander is an important trading town of sixteen thousand souls; it has fine stone quarries, and the air of activity of trade. There are large quantities of flour exported to the island of Cuba, which is protected by a heavy duty against our American productions, and should Spain lose this jewel of the crown the blow would fall heavily upon the grain-producing countries of the north. Another eighteen hours’ ride, after leaving Santander, brought me to Bilboa, the capital of Viscaya, situated upon the little river Nervion, which divides the old and new town, and is navigable from its entrance at Portugaleta, a small town, to the city. Bilboa lies in a gorge of hills, and has a damp climate; the vegetation is luxuriant, the country is most romantic and picturesque, and the town has a population of some fourteen thousand. Although still in Spain, appearances have changed, as the Basque provinces of the north, comprising Alava, Viscaya, and Guipuzcoa, forming the mountainous angle of the N. W. of the Spanish Peninsula, are the home of the aboriginal inhabitants who were never subdued or expelled, but were the first to sally forth from the mountains and beat back the invading Moors, a feat from which they derived their nobility, which afterwards extended throughout Spain; they consequently enjoy certain privileges not granted to any other portions of the country. They are free from conscription, or, as the Spaniards say, blood-tax, and are exempt from land-tax, stamps, and a variety of imposts, to which other parts of the empire are subjected. They regulate their church matters, and construct their own roads; hence the great and striking difference discernible in the manners, agriculture, manufacture, and general well-being of the people.
Tobacco is the great government monopoly in Spain, but here it is free, cheaper, and of better quality than elsewhere, which affords a great opportunity for the contraband trade. It is a great annoyance in Spain to have your luggage searched in every town you arrive at; mine has already been examined some fifteen times, without leaving the territory, or having any Spanish property in addition to my own. The Basques are a strong, hardy, and athletic race; they were invaded by sea in the year 879 by the Norwegians, and partly overcome, which accounts for their light complexion and form. The women perform the work of men. Arriving at the diligence office and giving the name of my hotel, as an American I felt mortified on seeing my trunk moved off on the head of a woman; but I soon discovered it was customary, and submitted.
Their holidays are celebrated with song and dance and ball playing. On Sunday the public promenade near the Cathedral was filled with children of all ages, with their nurses, enjoying the dance, while on the opposite banks of the river, within fifty yards of the Basilica, were assembled some one thousand grown persons, male and female, of the middle and lower classes, forming various groups and circles, in their curious costumes, dancing to the sound of tambourines and fifes, until fatigued, taking refreshments, or returning to the church, which, during the month of Maria or May, is a perfect flower garden. Banners were suspended from cords extending from the church to the refreshment hall.
From Bilboa to San Sebastian, is another eighteen hours’ ride, through a most luxuriant, charming and picturesque country. The farms are small, some only five or six acres—just enough for man, wife and family to work with spade or prong fork, which turns up the mould a great depth. The valleys and hill sides are covered with trellised grape vines, and reminded me much of Switzerland; indeed the people resemble the Swiss from their hardy habits and attachment to their country.
A fair was held at Bregada, a town at which I halted; it was a festival day in the villages. It rained, but not sufficient to stop the dance of the peasants, who stood in brogues made of skins, tied with strings, and were cutting it down in the mud, the water oozing out from the openings. The women, with hair in long plaited tresses and heads tied round with handkerchiefs, seemed to enjoy it hugely. The language no one but those bred in the country pretends to understand. Authors differ as to its history. One asserts that Adam spoke Basque, and that it was the language of the angels, and was brought pure into Spain before the confusion of tongues at Babel; another says, that angelic or not, it is so difficult that the devil, who is no fool, studied seven years in the Bilboas, and learned only three words. The use of various tongues in the same empire is a source of great evil, and causes distrust and jealousy, giving despots great advantage. The Basques proper are not understood out of their jurisdiction; the Catalonians are not understood by their neighbors, the Valencians; the Majorcans have a jargon of their own; the Gallicians are in like manner mixed up with the Portuguese. The Andalusians do not speak the true Castillian, consequently it is only in Castile and a part of Aragon that the language is spoken in its purity; quite unlike the enlightened republic of our country, where free education and the liberty of the press, and constant unrestrained communication absorb all other tongues, and make the English language general and intelligible through the land. This is the last important town in Spain before crossing the frontier of France; the distance now to Bayonne is only eleven leagues. San Sebastian is built on an isthmus under a conical hill which rises some four hundred feet above the sea, and is crowned by a castle. The approach is made easy by walks planted with trees, and here are found the graves of many English officers, to whom monuments have been erected, with the inscriptions in their own language. It was the theatre of several sieges between the French, English, and Spaniards, and the town was sacked and destroyed. The new town which is of rectangular form, with its plazas, shops, arcades and tall houses with balconies of uniform appearance and color, looks quite un-Spanish. It has a handsome beach, and is much resorted to in summer for sea-bathing. The greatest difference is observable between these Basque towns and those in the south, for the attractions here are those of Nature and not of Art. The fruits of the north are found here. Fruit is abundant in the mountains, and many valleys and points of view on the road carried me back to the magnificent scenery of the valley of the Schuylkill and Delaware. I find myself far removed from the orange groves, but apples are here in profusion, and the tables are served by the light Chacoli wine and cider of the country. The solid balconied stone manor houses of the wealthy appeared like fortresses, bearing their armorial shields sculptured over the portals, for the Basques pride themselves on being the original nobility of Spain. The law of primogeniture still exists as in England, but with the modification that the inheritor may dispose of one half of the inheritance; and as they are a money-getting and commercial people, the purse is getting the ascendency over title. Having formerly seen the south and west of Spain, and in this journey the east, centre and north, I have had a fine opportunity of judging of this peculiar country, closely bound together under one form of government, but composed of as different materials, in point of language, manners and costume, as of soils and climates, full of provincial prejudices, but loyal to the crown, unanimous in religion, and opposed to foreign innovations. In private life civil and polite to the stranger; warm friends, but implacable enemies. I shall now proceed to Bayonne; thence to Pau, and the famous baths of the Pyrenees, in the south of France; thence I shall return, via Bordeaux, Rochefort, La Rochelle, and Nantes, on my way to Paris.
XC.
Paris, June 20, 1853.
From San Sebastian to Irun, the first frontier town on the high road to Madrid, we rode along the coast through a wild, scraggy, shrubby country. At that place I was relieved of my Spanish passport, and visé for France with an additional charge of two francs. We soon crossed a small stream which separates the two countries; the little bridge was guarded on each side by sentinels, one of whom examined the passport to see if it was properly visé to leave Spain, the other if it was en règle to enter France. We were accompanied as far as the frontier by two distinguished refugees from France, who had received a visit from their families at the first town, but dared not cross the line under pain of transportation to Cayenne.