CHAPTER VIII.
SARAGOSSA AND BURGOS.
The ship’s company of the American Prince departedfrom Barcelona at three o’clock in theafternoon, for Saragossa, or Zaragoza as the Spaniardsspell it. At first the route was through a beautiful andhighly cultivated country, and then into the mountains.By five o’clock it was too dark to see the landscape;and the students, tired after the labors of the day, weredisposed to settle themselves into the easiest positionsthey could find, and many of them went to sleep.
At Manresa the train stopped for supper, which wasall ready for the students when they arrived, Mr. Lowingtonhad employed four experienced couriers for thedouble tour across the peninsula. One was to precedeeach of the two parties to engage accommodations, andmake terms with landlords, railroad agents, and others;and one was to attend each party to render such serviceas might be required of him. The journeys were allarranged beforehand, so that trains were to have extracars, and meals were to be ready at stations and hotels.
The train arrived at Saragossa just before four o’clockin the morning. The cars, or carriages as they arecalled in Europe, were precisely like those in use inEngland. Only six persons were put in each compartment;and the boys contrived various plans to obtaincomfortable positions for sleeping. Some of themspread their overcoats on the floor for beds, usingtheir bags for pillows; and others made couches on theseats. Most of them were able to sleep the greaterpart of the night. But the _Fonda del Universo_ wasprepared for their reception, and they were glad enoughto turn into the fifty beds ready for them.
At nine o’clock all hands were piped to breakfast.The meal was served in courses, and was essentiallyFrench. Some of the waiters spoke French; but therewas really no need of saying any thing, for each dish ofthe bill of fare was presented to every person at thetable. After the meal, the students were assembled inthe large reading–room,—the hotel had been recentlybuilt,—and Professor Mapps was called upon by theprincipal to say something about Saragossa, in orderthat the tourists might know a little of the history ofthe place they were visiting. The instructor took aconvenient position, and began his remarks:—
“The old monks used to write history somethingafter the manner of the Knickerbocker’s History ofNew York; and they put it on record that Saragossawas founded by Tubal, nephew of Noah; but you willnot believe this. The city probably originated with thePhoenicians, and was a place of great importance inthe time of Julius Cæsar, who saw its military value ascommanding the passage of the Ebro, and built a wallaround it. It was captured by the Suevi in 452, andtaken from them by the Goths fourteen years later. Inthe eighth century the Moors obtained possession ofthe city, and held it till the twelfth, when it was conqueredby Alfonso of Aragon. It contains many relicsof the Roman and Moorish works.
“Saragossa has been the scene of several notedsieges, the most famous of which was that of 1808,when the French captured the place after the mostdesperate resistance on the part of the Aragonese.The brave defenders of the city had no regular militaryorganization, and were ill–provided with arms andammunition. The people chose for a leader a youngman whose name was Palafox: he was as brave as alion, but not versed in military science. The siegelasted sixty–two days, and the fighting was almost incessant.It was ‘war to the knife’ on the part of theAragonese, and they rejected all overtures to surrender.Famine made fearful havoc among them, and everyhouse was a hospital. Even the priests and the womenjoined in the strife. I dare say you have all heard ofthe ‘Maid of Saragossa,’ who is represented in picturesas a young woman assisting in working a gun inthe battle. Her name was Augustina; and she was avery pretty girl of twenty–two. Her lover was a cannonneer,and she fought by his side. When he wasmortally wounded, she worked the gun herself. Youwill find something about her in ‘Childe Harold.’
“At length the French got into the town; but theconflict was not finished, for the people fought fortwenty–one days more in the streets. Fifteen thousandwere either dead or dying when the French entered thecity. At last the authorities agreed to surrender, butonly on the most honorable terms. It has been estimated,that, out of a population of one hundred andfifty thousand, fifty–four thousand perished in battle orby famine and pestilence.”
After these brief remarks, the party separated, anddivided up into small squads to see the city as theypleased. As usual, Captain Sheridan and Murrayjoined themselves to Dr. Winstock, who was as muchat home in Saragossa as he was in Paris.
“You will find that this city is thoroughly Spanish;and doubtless you will see some of the native costumes,”said the doctor, as they left the hotel.
“But this hotel is as much French as though it werein France,” added Murray, who desired when in Spainto do as the Spaniards did, so as to learn what they do.
“That is very true; but we shall come to the trueSpanish hotel in due time, and I have no doubt youwill get enough of it in a very short time,” laughedDr. Winstock. “There are three classes of hotels inSpain, though at the present time they are all about thesame thing. A _fonda_ is a regular hotel; a _posada_ isthe tavern of the smaller country towns; and a _venta_is a still lower grade of inn. A drinking–shop, whichwe sometimes call a ‘saloon’ in the United States, isa _ventorro_ or a _ventorillo_; and a _taberna_ is a placewhere smoking and wine–drinking are the business oftheir frequenters. A _parador_ is a hotel where the diligencesstop for meals, and may also be a _fonda_.”
“A _fonda_ is a hotel,” said Sheridan; “and we maynot be able to remember any more than that.”
“When you see the names I have given you on thesigns, you will understand what they mean. But ourbusiness now is to see this city. Like Barcelona, it hasone principal wide street extending through the middleof it: all the other avenues are nothing more thanlanes, very narrow and very dirty. It is on the Ebro,and has a population of some eighty thousand people.”
“How happens it that this place is not colder? Itis in about the same latitude as New York City; andnow, in the month of December, it is comfortablywarm,” said Sheridan.
“These valleys have a mild climate; and the vineand olive are their principal productions. It is not soon the high table–land in the centre of Spain. AtMadrid, for instance, the weather will be found to bequite cold at this time. The weather is so bitter theresometimes that the sentinels on guard have to bechanged every quarter of an hour, as they are indanger of being frozen to death.”
The party walked first to the great square, in thecentre of which is a public fountain. They paused tolook at the people. Most of the men wore some kind ofa mantle or cloak. This garment was sometimes theSpanish circular cloak, worn with a style and gracethat the Spaniard alone can attain. That of the poorerclass was often nothing but a striped blanket, which,however, they slung about them with no little of the airof those who wore better garments. They were generallytall, muscular, but rather bony fellows, with anexpression as solemn as though they were doing dutyat a funeral. Some of them wore the broad–brimmed_sombrero_; some had handkerchiefs wound around theirheads, like turbans; and others sported the ordinaryhat or cap.
The party could not help laughing when they saw,for the first time, a priest wearing a hat which extendedfore and aft at least three feet, with the sides rolled upclose to the body. Everybody was dignified, andmoved about at a funeral pace.
At the fountain women and girls were filling the jarsof odd shape with water, and bearing them away poisedon one of their hips or on the head. Several donkeyswere standing near, upon which their owners were loadingthe sacks of water they had filled.
“Bags of water!” exclaimed Murray.
“They do not call them bags, but skins,” said thedoctor. “You can see the legs and neck of the animal,which are very convenient in handling them. Theseskins are more easily transported on the backs of thedonkeys than barrels, kegs, or jars could be. Manykinds of wine are transported in these skins, whichcould hardly be carried on the back of an animal in anyother way. Except a few great highways, Spain is notprovided with roads. In
some places, when you ride ina carriage, you will take to the open fields; and veryrough indeed they are sometimes.”
The party proceeded on their walk, and soon reachedthe Cathedral of San Salvador, generally called _El Seo_;a term as applicable to any other cathedral in Aragonas to this one. It is a sombre old structure: a part ofit is said to have been built in the year 290; and piouspeople have been building it till within three hundredand fifty years of the present time. There are somegrand monuments in it; among them that of Arbues,who was assassinated for carrying out the decrees ofthe Inquisition. The people of Aragon did not takekindly to this institution; but the murder was terriblyavenged, and the Inquisition established its authority inthe midst of the tumult it had excited. Murillo, thegreat Spanish painter, made the assassination of Arbuesthe subject of one of his principal pictures.
Saragossa has two cathedrals, the second of whichis called _El Pilar_, because it contains the very pillaron which the Virgin landed when she came down fromheaven in one of her visits to Spain. It appearsthat St. James—Santiago in Spanish—came to Spainafter the crucifixion of the Saviour, in the year 40, topreach the gospel to the natives. When he had gotas far as Saragossa, he was naturally tired, and went tosleep. In this state the Virgin came to him with amessage from the Saviour, requiring him to build achapel in honor of herself. She stood on a jasperpillar, and was attended by a multitude of angels. St.James obeyed the command of the heavenly visitor,and erected a small chapel, only sixteen feet long andhalf as wide, where the Virgin often attended publicworship in subsequent years. On this spot, and overthe original chapel, was built the present church. Onthe pillar stands a dingy image of the Virgin, whichis said to be from the studio of St. Luke, who appearsto have been both a painter and a sculptor. It isclothed in the richest velvet, brocade, and satin, andis spangled with gold and diamonds. It cures all diseasesto which flesh is heir; for which the gratefulpersons thus healed have bestowed the most costlypresents. It is little less than sacrilege to expressany disbelief in this story of the Virgin, or in themiracles achieved by the image.
Dr. Winstock and his young companions went fromthe churches, to take a walk in the older part of thecity. The narrow streets reminded them of Constantinople,while many of the buildings were similar, theupper part projecting out over the street. The balconieswere shaded with mats, like the parti–coloreddraperies that hang from the windows in Naples.Many of the houses were of the Moorish fashion, withthe _patio_, or court–yard, in the centre, with galleriesaround it, from which admission to the various apartmentsis obtained. Saragossa has a leaning towerbuilt of brick, which was the campanile, or belfry, ofthe town.
The party of the surgeon spent the rest of the day ina walk through the surrounding country, crossing theEbro to the suburb of the city. Near the bridge theymet a couple of ladies who wore the mantilla, a kind ofveil worn as a head–dress, instead of the bonnet, whichis a part of the national costume of Spain. All overSpain this fashion prevails, though of course the modesof Paris are adopted by the most fashionable ladies ofthe capital and other cities.
At four o’clock the ship’s company dined at thehotel, and then wandered about the city at will till dark.They were advised to retire at an early hour, and mostof them did so. They were called at half–past four inthe morning, and at six were on the train. At half–pasteight they were at Tudela, the head of navigation onthe Ebro. At quarter past one they were at Miranda,on the line from Bayonne to Madrid, where dinner waswaiting for them. This meal was decidedly Spanish,though it was served in courses. The soup was odorousof garlic, which is the especial vice of Spanishcookery to those who have an aversion to it. Thencame the national dish, the _olla podrida_, a kind of stewmade of every kind of meat and every kind of vegetable,not omitting a profusion of garlic. Some of thestudents declared that it was “first–rate.” A few didnot like it at all, and more were willing to tolerate it.We do not consider it “bad to take.” The next dishwas calves’ brains fried in batter, which is not national,but is oftener had at the hotels than _olla podrida_. Thenext course was mutton chops, followed by roastchicken, with a salad. The dessert was fruit andraisins. On the table was plenty of _Val de Peñas_ wine,which the students were forbidden to taste.
At half–past two the tourists departed, and at twentyminutes to six arrived in the darkness at Burgos. Theport watch went to the _Fonda del Norte_, and the starboardto the _Fonda Rafaela_. The doctor and the captain wereat the latter, and it was more like the inns of DonQuixote’s time than any that Sheridan had seen. Ithad no public room except the _comedor_, or dining–room.The hotel seemed to be a number of buildings throwntogether around a court–yard, on one side of which wasthe stable. Sheridan and Murray were shown to aroom with six other students, but the apartment containedfour beds. It was large enough for four more,being not less than thirty feet long, and half as wide.It was comfortably furnished, and every thing about itwas clean and neat. The establishment was not unlikean old–fashioned country tavern in New England.
Dinner, or, as the students called it, supper, wasserved at six o’clock. The meal was Spanish, beingabout the same as the one they had taken at Miranda.Instead of the _olla podrida_ was a kind of stew, whichin the days of Gil Blas would have been called a_ragout_.
“This isn’t a bad dinner,” said Murray, when theyhad finished the third course.
“It is a very good one, I think,” replied Sheridan.
“I have been reading books of travel in Spain forthe last two weeks, most of them written by Englishmen;and I had come to the conclusion that we shouldbe starved to death if we left the ship for more thana day or two. The writers found a great deal of faultwith their food, and growled about garlic. I rather likegarlic.”
“The doctor says the English are very much givento grumbling about every thing,” added Sheridan. “Idon’t think we shall starve if we are fed as well as wehave been so far.”
“Our room is as good as we have found in most ofthe hotels in other countries. So far, the trains on therailroads have been on time instead of an hour late, asone writer declared they always were.”
“If one insists upon growling, it is easy enough tofind something to growl at.”
In the evening some of the party strolled about town,but it was as quiet as a tomb; for the rule in Spain is,“Early to bed, and late to rise.” But the studentswere out of bed in good time in the morning, andtaking a view of the city. They found a very prettypromenade along the little river Arlanzon, whose watersfind their way into the Duero; and at a considerabledistance from it obtained a fine view of the greatcathedral. It is impossible to obtain any just view of it,except at a distance, on account of the mass of buildingswhich are huddled around it, and close to it. But thevast church towers above them all, and presents tothe eye a forest of spires great and small. Near theriver, in an irregular _plaza_, is an old gateway, which isquite picturesque. The structure looks like a castle,with round towers at the corners, and circular turrets.On the front are a number of figures carved in stone.
Breakfast was served at half–past ten, and dinner atsix, at the _Fonda_; but special tables were set for thestudents at more convenient hours. A Spanish mealcould not be agreeable to nice and refined Americanpeople. The men often sit with their hats on, andbetween the courses smoke a cigarette, or _cigarillo_ inSpanish. They converse in an energetic tone, but arepolite if addressed, though they mind their own businessseverely, and seem to be devoid of curiosity—or atleast are too dignified to stare—in regard to strangers.The food is very odorous of onions and garlic, and inthe smaller inns consists largely of stews or ragouts,generally of mutton or kidneys. New cheese, notpressed, is sometimes an item of the bill of fare. _Valde Pañas_ wine is furnished free all over Spain at the_table d’hote_; but it always tastes of the skins in whichit is transported, and most Americans who partake ofit think it is poor stuff. Great quantities of it areexported to Bordeaux, where it is manufactured intoclaret.
After breakfast, the students were assembled to enableProfessor
Mapps to tell them something about thehistory of the city, to which he added a very full accountof the Cid. Of his remarks we can give only anabstract.
Burgos is one of the most famous cities of Castile, ofwhich it was at one time the capital. The name comesfrom the same word as “Burg,” and means a fortifiedeminence; and such it is, being on the watershed betweenthe basins of the Ebro and the Duero. It wasfounded in 884 by a Castilian knight. It was thebirthplace of Ferdinand Gonzales, who first took thetitle of Count of Castile, shook off the yoke of Leon,and established the kingdom of Castile. The city ison the direct line to Madrid from Paris. The Frenchcaptured the place in 1808; and it was twice besiegedand taken by the Duke of Wellington in the peninsularwar.
The Cid is the popular hero of Spain, and especiallyof the people of Burgos. He was the King Arthur ofSpain, and there is about as much romance in his historyas in that of the British demigod. The Cid Campeador,“knight champion,” was born about 1040, anddied when he was not much over fifty. His name wasRodrigo Ruy Diaz; and his marvellous exploits areset forth in the “Poem of the Cid,” believed to havebeen written in the twelfth century. It is the oldestpoem in the Spanish language. His first great deedwas to meet the Count Gomez, who had grossly insultedthe Cid’s aged father, in a fair fight in the field, andutterly vanquish him, cutting off his head. The oldman was unable to eat from brooding over his wrong;but, when Ruy appeared with the head of the slaincount, his appetite was restored. By some he is saidto have married Ximena, the daughter of his deadadversary. Great was the fame of the Cid’s prowessafter this exploit. Shortly after this event, five Moorishkings, with a powerful force, entered Castile; andthe Cid roused the country to oppose their progress,and fell upon the enemy, routing the five kings withgreat slaughter, and making all of them his prisoners.Then he fought for King Ferdinand against the Aragonese,and won all that was in dispute. When Francedemanded the homage of his king, he entered thatcountry, and won a victory which settled the questionof homage for all time. After this event he did considerabledomestic fighting when Castile was dividedamong the sons of the dead sovereign; and was finallybanished by the new king. He departed with hisknights and men–at–arms, and took up a strong positionin the territory of the Moors, where he made war,right and left, with all the kingdoms of the peninsulaexcept his own country, which he had the grace toexcept in his conquests. He took Valencia, where heseems to have established himself. His last exploit inthe flesh was the capture of Murviedro. Then he died,and was buried in Valencia.
Now that the Cid, who had been the scourge of theMoors, was dead, the Christians could no longer holdout against the infidels, and were in danger of losingwhat they had gained. In this emergency they clothedthe corpse of the dead hero in armor, and fastened iton his war–steed, placing his famous sword in his hand.Thus equipped for battle, the dead Cid was led into thefield in the midst of the soldiers. The very sight ofhim struck terror to the hearts of the Moslems, andthe defunct warrior won yet another battle. He wasmarched through the land, the enemy fleeing beforehim in every direction, to Burgos. He seems not tohave been buried when he got there, but was embalmedand placed in a chair of state, where he went into thebusiness of working miracles. His long white beardfell upon his breast, his sword was at his side, and heseemed to be alive rather than dead. One day a Jew,out of bravado, attempted to take hold of his venerablebeard, when the Cid began to draw his sword, whereatthe Jew was so frightened that he fainted away. Whenhe recovered he at once became a Christian. The Cidwas a fiery man, and did not hesitate to slap the face ofa king or the pope, if he was angry. Even after he wasdead, and sitting in his chair, he sometimes lost histemper; and Ximine found it expedient to bury him, inorder to keep him out of trouble.
The students went to the cathedral first. It is a vastpile of buildings, and is considered one of the finestchurches in Europe. There is an immense amount offine and delicate work about it, which cannot be described.The dome is so beautiful that Philip II. saidit was the work of angels rather than men. The choiris quite a lofty enclosure, which obstructs the viewfrom the pavement. The archbishop’s palace, and thecloister, on one side, seem to be a part of the church.It contains, as usual, a great many chapels, each ofwhich has its own treasures of art or antiquity. Inone of them is the famous Christ of Burgos, which issaid to have been made by Nicodemus after he andJoseph of Arimathea had buried the Saviour. Asusual, it was found in a box floating in the sea.The hair, beard, eyelashes, and the thorns, are allreal; and a French writer says the skin of the figureis human. The image works miracles without number,sweats on Friday, and even bleeds at times; and isheld in the highest veneration by the people.
In another chapel is the coffer of the Cid, an oldworm–eaten chest bound with iron. When the championwas banished by the king, as he wanted to go offwith flying colors, and was in need of a large sum ofmoney, he filled this chest with sand and stones, and,without allowing them to look into it, assured a coupleof rich Jews that it was full of gold and jewels. Theytook his word for it (strange as such a transaction wouldbe in modern times), and loaned the money he needed.When he had captured Valencia, he paid the loan, andexposed the cheat he had put upon them. Of coursethey were willing to forgive him after he had paid themoney.
The next point of interest with the students was thetown hall, where they were permitted to look upon thebones of the Cid and his wife, which are kept in a box,with a wire screen over them to prevent any heathenfrom stealing them. The bones are all mixed up, andno one can tell which belong to the Cid and which tohis wife.
At noon Dr. Winstock procured an antiquated carriageat the hotel stable, and took Sheridan and Murrayout into the country. After a ride of a couple of milesthey reached Miraflores, which is a convent founded byJohn II., and finished by Isabella I. Its church containsthe royal tomb in which John II. is buried, and isone of the finest things of the kind in the world, thesculpture being of the most delicate character. Severalother Castilian kings are buried in this place.
The little party took the carriage again, intending tovisit the Monastery of San Pedro de Cardeña. Therewas no road, only an ill–defined track across the fields;and very rough fields they were, covered with rocks sothick that the vehicle often had to pass over many ofthem. The passengers were terribly shaken up. Onthe way they occasionally met a peasant riding on orleading a mule or donkey loaded with various commoditiescarried in panniers. They were interesting as astudy.
San Pedro is nothing but a ruin. It was establishedin the fifth century; and in the ninth the Moors destroyedthe edifice, and killed two hundred monks wholived in it. It was rebuilt; and, being the favorite conventof the Cid, he requested that he might be buried init. The monument is in a side chapel, and looks asthough it had been whitewashed at no very remoteperiod. The doctor read the inscription on the emptytomb. A dirty peasant who joined the party as soonas they got out the carriage followed them at everystep, almost looking into their mouths when they spoke.
When the party started to return, things began to bevery lively with them. First Sheridan rubbed his legs;then Murray did so; and before long the doctorjoined in the recreation.
“What’s the matter?” asked the surgeon, laughing.
“I don’t know; but my legs feel as though I hadan attack of the seven–years’ itch,” replied the captainwith a vigorous attempt to reach and conquer the difficulty.
“That’s just my case,” added Murray, with anequally violent demonstration.
“I don’t understand it,” continued the captain.
“I do,” answered the surgeon, vigorously rubbingone of his legs.
“What is it?” asked Sheridan, suspecting that theyall had some strange disease.
“_Cosas de España_,” laughed the doctor.
“But that is Spanish; and I don’t understand thelingo.”
“A _cosa de España_ is a ‘thing of Spain;’ fleasare things of Spain; and that is what is the matterwith you and me. The lining of this carriage hasbeen repaired by covering it in part with cloth
with along nap, which is alive with fleas.”
“The wicked flea!” exclaimed Murray.
“He goeth about in Spain, seeking whom he maydevour,” added the doctor.
When they reached the hotel, supper was ready;but they did not want any just then, for no one feelshungry while a myriad of fleas are picking his bones.Garments were taken off, and brushed on the inside;the skin was washed with cologne–water; and the partywere happy till they took in a new supply.
At about eleven at night, the ship’s company tookthe train south, and at quarter past eight the nextmorning were at _El Escorial_.