LETTER XVI.
Girone.
From Jonquere to Figuere (about four hours journey, so they reckon in Spain) the road is intolerable, and the country beautiful; over which the traveller may, as nature has done, repose himself upon a flowery bed, indeed; for nature surely could not do more for the pleasure and profit of man, than she has done from Jonquere to Girone. The town of Figuere is, properly speaking, the first town in Spain; for Jonquere is rather a hamlet; but Figuere has a decent, comfortable appearance, abounds with merchants and tradesmen, and at a little distance from it stands the strongest citadel in Spain; indeed it is the frontier town of the kingdom. The quietness of the people, and seeming tranquility of all ranks and orders of men in Spain, is very remarkable to a person who has just left a kingdom in every respect so different. Strangers as we were, and as we must be known to be, we passed unnoticed; and when we stopped near a cottage to eat our hedge dinner, neither man, woman, or child came near us, till I asked for water, and then they brought with it, unasked, dried grapes, and chesnuts, but instantly retired. I was charmed with the Arcadian inhabitants, and visited the inside of their cabin; but its situation upon a little tump, on the bank of a brook, shaded by ever-green oaks, and large spreading fig-trees, was all it had to boast of; it had nothing within but straw beds, Indian corn, dried grapes, figs, &c.
From Figuere to Girone, which is a good day's journey, the country is enclosed, and the hedgerows, corn fields, &c. had in many places the appearance of the finest parts of England, only warmed by a hotter sun, and adorned with woods and trees of other species; instead of the hawthorn, I found the orange and the pomegranate, the myrtle and the cypress; in short, all nature seemed to rejoice here, but man alone.
From many parts of this road we had a view of the Mediterranean Sea, and the Golfe de Royas, a fine bay, over which the heads of the Pyrenees hang; and on the banks of which there seemed to be, not only villages, but large towns; the situations of which appeared so enchanting, that I could hardly resist the temptation of visiting them;—and now wonder why I did not; but at that time, I suppose I did not recollect I had nothing else to do.
We entered this town rather too late, and were followed to our inn by an armed soldier, who demanded, in harsh terms, my attendance upon the Governor; I enquired whether it was customary for a Gentleman, just off a journey, to be so called upon, and was assured it was not; that my passa-porte was sufficient. I therefore gave that to my conductor, and desired him to take it, and return it, which he did, in about half an hour; but required to be paid for his trouble—a request I declined understanding.
This is a fortified city, well built, but every house has the appearance of a convent. I went into the market, where fruit, flesh, and vegetables, were to be sold in abundance; but instead of that noise which French and English markets abound with, a general silence and gravity reigned throughout; which, can hardly be thought possible, where so many buyers and sellers were collected together. I bought a basket of figs, but the vender of them spoke to me as softly as if we had been engaged in a conspiracy, but she did not attempt to impose; I dare say, she asked me no more than she would have demanded of a Spaniard. The manners of people are certainly infectious; my spirits sunk in this town; and I wanted nothing but the language, and a long cloak, to make me a compleat Spaniard. Our inn was the Golden Fountain; and, considering it was in Spain, not a bad one. If the town, however, was gloomy, the country round about it exhibited all the beauties nature can boast of.
In climates, says some writer, where the earth seems to be the pride and masterpiece of nature, rags, and dirt, ghastly countenances, and misery under every form, are oftener met with, than in those countries less favoured by nature; and the forlorn and wretched condition of the people in general seemed to belie and disgrace their native soil. Certain it is, that the natives of the southern parts of Europe have neither the beauty, the strength, nor comeliness of men born in more northern climates. I have seen in the South of France, in Spain, and Portugal, the aged especially of both sexes, who hardly appeared human! nor do you see, in general, even among the youthful, much more beauty than that which youth alone must give; for youth itself is beauty. Whoever compares the natives of Switzerland, England, Ireland, and Scotland, with those of Spain, Portugal, or other Southern climates, will find, that men born among cold, bleak mountains, are infinitely superior to those of the finest climates under the sun. Perhaps, however, this difference may arise more from the want of Liberty than the power of climate. Oh Liberty! sweet Liberty! without thee life cannot be enjoyed! Thou parent of comfort, whose children bless thee, though they dwell among the barren rocks, or the most surly regions of the earth! Thou blessest, in spite of nature; and in spite of nature, tyranny brings curses.