Quien a buen arbol se arrimabuena sombra le cobija,[65]
Quien a buen arbol se arrimabuena sombra le cobija,[65]
Quien a buen arbol se arrimabuena sombra le cobija,[65]
we followed the footsteps of the worthy member of the Church Hospitaliar, without further colloquy.
Our conductor stopped not, and spoke not, until we had reached the very top of the town, and then, leading our horses into a commodious stable, he ushered us into his own abode; wherein he assured us, if the accommodation he could offer was suitable, “we had but tomandar.” It consisted of a largesalaand analcoba, or recess, for a bed; the latter scrupulously clean, the former lofty and airy. We, therefore, expressed our entire satisfaction, requesting only that a couple of mattresses might be spread upon the floor; a friend, who had joined us at Gaucin, rendering this increase of accommodation necessary.
Having given instructions to that effect, Don Francisco Labato—for such our host informedus were hisnombre y appellido,[66]not omitting to add, that he was aclerigo beneficiado[67]—proposed to accompany us, to cast an ojeada[68]upon the curious old town, from the ruined battlements of its ancient fortress; observing that there was yet abundance of time to do so, “ere Phœbus took his evening plunge into the western ocean.”
We gladly accepted the proffered ciceroneship of our classical host, and, mounting the rugged pathway up the isolated crag, in a few minutes reached the plateau at its summit. It would be hardly possible to select a less convenient site for a town than that occupied by Casares. Pent in to the north and south between impracticable crags, and bounded on the other two sides by deep ravines; it can, in fact, be reached only, either by describing a wide circuit to gain the mountains, rising at its back; or, by ascending a rough winding path, practised in the side of the castle hill.
The principal part of the town is clustered round the base of the old fortress, the houses rising one above another in steps, as it were, and occupying no more of the valuable space than is necessary to give them a secure foundation. The streets, which are barely wide enough to allow a paniered donkey to pass freely,are formed out of the live rock, and, here and there, are cut in wide steps, to render the ascent less difficult and dangerous. These flat slabs of native limestone, when heated by a summer sun, though passable enough by unshod animals, afford but a precarious footing to a horse’s iron-bound hoofs.
The castle can only be approached through the town, and although its walls have long been in ruins, yet, so strong are its natural defences, that the muzzles of a few rusty old guns, propped up by stones, and protruded from the prostrate parapets, were sufficient to deter the French from making any attempt upon the place during the war of independence:—such, at least, is the version of the inhabitants.
That Casares was a Roman town is almost proved by the name it yet bears; but the matter is placed beyond a doubt on examining the old foundations of the castle, which are clearly of a date anterior to the occupation of Spain by the Saracens.
The name it anciently bore strikes me as being equally obvious, viz.,Cæsaris Salutariensis; so designated from the mineral waters in its neighbourhood, which, thoughnowknown by the name of the modern town of Manilba, are within theterminoof Casares. For, not only were the valuable properties of these springs well known to the Romans, but, according tothe common belief in the country, they performed a wonderful cure on one of the emperors—Trajan, I think.
Cæsaris Salutariensisis mentioned by Pliny, amongst the Latin towns of theconventus gaditanus; the limits of which country may, at first sight, appear to be somewhat stretched to include Casares; but Barbesula, which stood at the mouth of the river Guadiaro, at an equal distance from Cadiz, (as is clearly proved by inscriptions found there,) is also mentioned by that excellent authority as one of the stipendiary towns of the same county; and the order in which they are enumerated, viz., those first which were nearest to the capital, tends to confirm my supposition.
On our return from the old castle, which commands a splendid view, we were not displeased to find that our host was no despiser of the good things of this world, much as he gave us to understand that all his thoughts were directed towards the never-ending joys of that which is to come. Every thing bespoke a well-conductedménage; the house, besides being clean and tastily decorated with flowers, was provided with some solid comforts. TheCura’s niece—his housekeeper, butler, and factotum—was pretty, as well as intelligent and obliging. Hiscuisinewas tolerably free from garlic and grease, his wine from aniseed. Our horses were up totheir knees in fresh straw; and three clean beds were prepared for ourselves.
Our host excused himself from partaking of our meal, he having already dined, and, whilst we were doing justice to his good catering, paced up and down the room pretending to read, but in reality watching our movements, and, as it at first struck us, looking after his silver spoons: but divers testy hints given to his bright-eyed niece that her constant attendance upon us was unnecessary, soon made it evident thatshewas the object of his solicitude; as, judging from the occasional direction of our eyes, he rightly conjectured what was the subject of our conversation. Anon, however, he would approach the table, thrust the volume of Homilies under his left arm, and, taking a pinch of snuff, (which he said was “bueno para el estudio”[69]) ask our way of thinking on various subjects, political and theological, always prefacing his interrogatories by some observation, either on his passion for study, the cosmopolitan bent of his mind, or the superiority his learning gave him over the vulgar prejudices of the age. And, at length, when the table was cleared, the niece gone, and he had elicited from us that we were all threeEnglish, he observed, without further circumlocution, “Pues Señores, you are not members of theSanta Iglesia, Catolica Romana?"
“No,” we replied, “Catolicabut notRomana.”
“That is to say, you are heretical Christians.”
“That is to say, we differ with you as regards the corporeal nature of the elements partaken of in the Eucharist; we deny the efficacy of masses; the power of granting indulgences; and the necessity for auricular confession:—and so far certainly we are heretics in the eyes of the church of Rome.”
The worthyCura—much as he had studied—was by no means aware that our pretensions to Catholicism were so great as, on continuing the controversy, he discovered them to be.[70]He made a stout stand, however, for the absolute necessity of auricular confession; maintaining that we, by dispensing with it, deprived the poor and ignorant of a friend, a counsellor, and an intercessor;—stript our church of the power of reclaiming sinners, and checking growing heresies;—and our government of the means of anticipating the mischievous projects of designing men.
It was in vain we urged to our host that, in our favoured country, education had done away with the necessity for strengthening the hands of government by such means; that the poor were provided for by law; and that the clergy were ever ready to counsel and assist those who stood in need of spiritual consolation. But, before leaving us for the night, thePadreadmitted thatwewere certainly Christians, and that many of the mysteries and practices of the Church of Rome were merely preserved to enable the clergy to maintain their influence over the people;—an influence which we deemed quite necessary for the well-being of the state.
Rising betimes on the following morning, we set off on foot to clamber to the lofty peak of theSierra Cristellina; and regular climbing it was, for all traces of a footpath were soon lost, and we then had to mount the precipitous face of the cone in the best way we could. The magnificence of the view from the summit amply repaid us for the fatigue and loss of shoe-leather we had to bear with; for, though scarcely 2000 feet above the level of the sea, the peak stands so completely detached from all other mountains, that it affords a bird’s eye view which could be surpassed only by thatfrom a balloon. The entire face of the country was spread out like a map before us. To the north, penned in on all sides by savage mountains, lay the wide, forest-covered valley of the Genal, its deeply furrowed sides affording secure though but scanty lodgment to the numerous little fastnesses scattered over them by the persecutedMudejares, when expelled from the more fertile plains of the Guadalquivír and Guadalete; and on which castellated crags the swarthy descendants of these “mediatised” Moors still continue to reside and bid defiance to civilization.
These little strongholds stand for the most part on the summit of rocky knolls that jut into the dark valley; and round the base of each a small extent of the forest has in most cases been cleared, serving, in times past, to improve its means of defence, and, at the present day, to admit the sun to shine upon the vineyards, in the cultivation of which the rude inhabitants find employment, when, obliged for a time to lay aside the smuggler’s blunderbuss, they take to the axe and pruning-knife. Behind, serving as a kind of citadel to these numerous outworks, rises the hugeSierra Bermeja, which afforded a last refuge to the persecuted Moslems; and at its very foot, about five miles up the valley of the Genal, are the ruins ofBenastepar; the birth-place of the Moorish hero,El Feri, whose courage and address so long baffled the exterminating projects of the Spaniards.
Turning now round to the south, a totally different, and yet more magnificent, view meets the eye. Gibraltar,—its lovely bay,—the African mountains, rising range above range,—and the distant Atlantic, successively present themselves: whilst, from the height at which we are raised above the intermediate country, the courses of the different rivers, that issue from the gorges of the sierras at our back, may be distinctly followed through all their windings to the Mediterranean, the features of the intervening ground appearing to be so slightly marked as to lead to the supposition that the country below must be perfectly accessible;—but, as one of our party drily observed, those who, like himself, had followed red-legged partridges across it could tell a different story.
We returned to Casares by descending the eastern side of the mountain, which is planted with vines to within a short distance of the summit. In fact, wherever a little earth can be scraped together, a root is inserted. The wine made from the grapes grown on this bank is considered the best of Casares; it is not unlike Cassis—small, but highly flavoured. The town, looked down upon in this direction, has a singular appearance, seeming to stand on a highcliff overhanging the Mediterranean shore, though, in reality, it is six or seven miles from it.
We amused ourselves during the rest of the afternoon in taking sketches of the town from various points in the neighbourhood, and excited the wrath of some passers-by to a furious degree. They swore we weremapeando el pueblo,[71]and that they would have us arrested; but we were strong in our innocence, and turned a deaf ear to their menaces. It is, however, a practice that is often attended with annoying consequences; for I have known several instances of English officers having been taken before the military authorities for merely sketching a picturesque barn or cork tree—so great is the national jealousy.
At our evening meal, our host, as on the former occasion walked book-in-hand up and down the room, but was evidently less watchful of his pretty niece and silver spoons. His attention, indeed, appeared to be entirely given to the state of the mercury in an old barometer, which, appended to the wall at the further end of the room, he consulted at every turn, putting divers weatherwise questions to us as he did so. And at last, he asked in plain language, whether our church ever put up prayers for rain, and if they ever brought it.
The occasion of all thispumpingwe found tobe, that the country in the neighbourhood having long been suffering from drought, the husbandmen, apprehensive of the consequences, had for some days past been urging him to pray for rain, but the state of the barometer had not hitherto, he said, warranted his doing so, and he had, therefore, put them off, on various pretences. “Yesterday, however,” he observed, “seeing that the mercury was falling, I gave notice that I should make intercession for them; and, I think, judging from present appearances, that my prayers are likely to be as effectual as those of any bishop could possibly be.” And off he started to church, giving us, at parting, a very significant, though somewhat heterodoxical grin.
Nevertheless, not a drop of rain fell that night; the barometer was at fault; and the only clouds visible in the morning were those gathered on the brow of theCura. They dispersed, however, like mist under the sun’s rays; when, bidding him farewell, and thanking him for his hospitable entertainment, we slipped adoublon de à ochointo his hand; which, pocketing without the slightest hesitation, he assured us, with imperturbable gravity, should be applied to the services of thechurch—“as, doubtless, we intended.”
Threading once more the rudelygraduatedstreets of the town, we took the stony pathway,before noticed, which winds down under the eastern side of the castle hill, and in rather more than half an hour were again beyond the limits of the Serranía, and in a country of corn and pasture.
At the foot of the mountain two roads present themselves, one proceeding straight across the country to San Roque and Gibraltar (nineteen and twenty-five miles), the other seeking more directly the Mediterranean shore, and visiting on its way the sulphur-baths and little town of Manilba.
TheCurahad spoken in such terms of commendation of theHedionda(fetid spring)—claiming it jealously as the property of Casares—that we were tempted to lengthen our journey by a few miles to pay it a visit.
The road to it follows the course of the little stream that flows in the valley between the Cristellina mountain and Casares, which, escaping by a narrow rocky gorge immediately below the town, winds round the foot of the castle crag, and takes an easterly direction to the Mediterranean. The country at first is open, and the stream flows through a smiling valley, without encountering any obstacle; but, at about two miles from Casares, a dark and narrow defile presents itself, which, the winding rivulet having in vain sought to avoid, finally precipitates itself into, and is lost sight of,under an entangled canopy of arbutus, lauristinus, clematis, and various creepers. So narrow and overshadowed is the chasm, so high and precipitous are its bank—themselves overgrown with coppice and forest-trees, wherever the crumbling rocks have allowed their roots to spread—that even the sunbeams have difficulty in reaching the foaming stream, as it hurries over its rough and tortuous bed; and the pathway, following the various windings of the narrow gorge,—now keeping along the shady bank of the rivulet, now climbing, by rudely carved zig-zags, some little way up the precipitous sides of the fissure,—is barely of a width to admit of the passage of a loaded mule.
So wildly beautiful is the scenery, so free from artificial embellishments,—for the low moss-grown water-mills which are scattered along the course of the stream, and here and there a rustic bridge, owe their beauty rather to nature than art—soromantic, in fine, is the spot, that, if in the vicinity of a fashionablebaden, it could not fail of being a little fortune to all the ragged donkey-drivers within a circuit of many leagues, and of proving a mine of wealth to the surveyors oftables d’hôtes, andrestaurans, and keepers of billiard and faro tables.
The amusements of the frequenters of the humbleHediondaare, however, very different,and the sequestered dell is visited only by chanting muleteers, driving their files of laded animals to or from the mills; or, perchance, by some sulphurated old lady, who, ensconced in a pillowedjamuga,[72]is bending her way, with renovated health, towards Casares or Ximena: to which places the narrow fissure offers the nearest road from the baths.
After proceeding about a mile down the dark ravine, its banks, crumbling down in rude blocks, recede from each other, and a huge barren sierra is discovered rising steeply along the southern bank of the stream, to which the road now crosses. It greatly excited our surprise how this lofty and strongly marked ridge could have escaped our observation from Casares, for it had seemed to us, that on descending from thence we should leave the mountains altogether behind us.
From the base of this barren ridge issues theHedionda; still, however, about a mile from us; and ere reaching it, the hills retiring for a time yet more from the stream, leave a flat space of some extent, and in form resembling an amphitheatre, which is planted with all kinds of fruit-trees, and dotted with vine-clung cottages. This spot is calledLa Huerta—the orchard; and these comfortlesslooking little hovels—pleasing nevertheless to the eye—we eventually learnt are the lodging-houses of the most aristocratic visiters of the baths.
Traversing the fruitful little dell, and mounting a low rocky ledge that completes its enclosure to the east, leaving only a narrow passage for the rivulet, we found ourselves close to the baths; our vicinity to which, however, the offensive smell of the spring (prevailing even over the strong perfume of the orange blossoms) had already duly apprized us of.
The baths are situated almost in the bed of the pure mountain stream, whose course we had been following from Casares; and a short distance beyond, and at a slight elevation above them, stands a neat and compact little village.
The season being at its height, we found the place so crowded with visiters, that it would have been impossible to procure a night’s lodging, had such been our wish. All we required, however, was information concerning the place; for which purpose we repaired to theFonda,—a kind of booth, such as is knocked up at fairs in England for the sale of gin, “and other cordials,"—and ordered such refreshment as it afforded, asking theMoza[73]if she could tell us whether any of the houses were vacant, &c.
She replied, that the Fonda was provided with every thing necessary for travellers of distinction, being established on the footing of the hotels “de mas fama” of Malaga and San Roque; and thatEl Señor Juan, the “intendente”[74]of the place,—who, doubtless, on hearing of our arrival, would forthwith pay his respects to us,—could furnish every sort of information respecting it.
Oh! a master of the ceremonies, with his book, thought we—well, this will be amusing: some urbane “captain,” no doubt, all smiles to all persons!—and whilst we were yet picturing to ourselves what this Spanish Beau Nash could possibly be like, a tall ungainly personage, with a considerable halt in his gait, a fund of humour in his long leathern countenance, and a paper cigar screwed up in the dexter corner of his mouth, presented himself, and placed his services at our disposition.
He held a huge pitcher of the fragrant water in one hand, which, when he was in motion, gave him a “lurch to starboard;” a stout staff in the other, by means of which he established an equilibrium when at rest. His body was coatless, his neck cravatless, his shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, leaving his brown sinewy arms bare; his trowsers hung in bracelessnegligence about his hips; his large bare feet were thrust into a pair of capacious shoes; and his head was covered with a high-crowned, narrow-brimmed, Frenchified hat, which had evidently browned under the heat of many summers, and bent to the storms of intervening winters. Round his neck hung a stout silver chain (which the fumes of the sulphur-spring had turned as black as Berlin iron), whence was suspended a ponderous master-key.
“He must be the prison-keeper,” said we, “carrying the daily allowance of water to the incarcerated malefactors!”
“This isSeñor Juan, el intendente,” said our smirking attendant, placing a bottle of wine upon the table before us.
“Oh! this isSeñor Juan, the master of the ceremonies!—Then pray be seated,Señor Juan; and bring another wine-glass,Mariquita.”
Our requests were instantly complied with; and in half an hour we had disengaged from the numberless “por supuestos, conques,” and “pues,” with which Señor Juan interlarded his conversation, and from the smoky exhalations in which he enveloped it, all the information we required concerning the baths, though by no means so full an account of them as the gossip-lovingTioseemed disposed to give us. So pleased were we, however, with his description of the amusements of the place, and of the valuableproperties of its waters, that, assuring him we should take an early opportunity of renewing his acquaintance, and commending him to the care ofSan Juan Nepomaceno, we arose, and took our departure.
I was not long in performing my promise. Indeed, I became an annual visiter to the baths for a few days during the shooting season; and will devote the following chapter to a more particular description of theHedionda, and the manner of life at a Spanish watering-place.
The mule-track from the baths to Gibraltar—for during the first few miles it is little else—keeps down the valley for some little distance, and then, ascending a steep hill, joins at its summit a road leading to Casares from Manilba; which latter little town is seen about three-quarters of a mile off, on the left. This road to Casares turns thesierraoverhanging the baths on its western side, where it meets with some flat, nearly table-land; but our route to Gibraltar, after keeping along it a few hundred yards, strikes off to the left, and, traversing a wild and very broken country, in something more than three miles forms its junction with the road from the town of Manilba to San Roque and Gibraltar, which again, half a mile further on, falls into the road from Malaga to those two places. This spot is distant fivemiles from the baths, and rather more than two from the river Guadiaro.
Near some farm-houses on the left bank of this river, and about a mile from its mouth, are ruins of the Roman town ofBarbesula. Some monuments and inscriptions found here, many years since, were carried to Gibraltar.
The bed of the Guadiaro is wide but shallow, and offers two fords, which are practicable at most seasons. There is a ferry-boat kept, however, at the upper point of passage, for cases of necessity. A venta is situated on the right bank of the stream, whereat a bevy of custom-house people generally assemble to levy contributions on the passers-by. It is a wretched place of accommodation, though better than another, distant about a mile further, on the road to Gibraltar, and well known to the sportsmen of the garrison by the name ofpan y agua—bread and water—those being the only supplies that the establishment can be depended upon to furnish. Its vicinity to some excellent snipe ground occasions it to be much resorted to in the winter.
At the first-named venta, two roads present themselves, that on the right hand proceeding to San Roque, (eight miles,) the other seeking the coast and keeping along it to Gibraltar—a distance of twelve miles.
The country traversed by the former is veryrugged, but the path is, nevertheless, unnecessarily circuitous. In various places—but a little off the road—are vestiges of an old paved route, which, it is by no means improbable, was the Roman way fromBarbesulatoCarteia, of which further notice will be taken, when the coast road from Malaga to Gibraltar is described.
THE BATHS OF MANILBA—A SPECIMEN OF FABULOUS HISTORY—PROPERTIES OF THE HEDIONDA—SOCIETY OF THE BATHING VILLAGE—REMARKABLE MOUNTAIN—AN ENGLISH BOTANIST—TOWN OF MANILBA—AN INTRUSIVE VISITER—RIDE TO ESTEPONA—RETURN BY WAY OF CASARES.
THE BATHS OF MANILBA—A SPECIMEN OF FABULOUS HISTORY—PROPERTIES OF THE HEDIONDA—SOCIETY OF THE BATHING VILLAGE—REMARKABLE MOUNTAIN—AN ENGLISH BOTANIST—TOWN OF MANILBA—AN INTRUSIVE VISITER—RIDE TO ESTEPONA—RETURN BY WAY OF CASARES.
THEbaths of Manilba lie about seventeen miles N.N.E. of Gibraltar, and four, inland, from the sea-fort of Savanilla. The town, from which they take their name, is about midway between them and the coast; and, standing on a commanding knoll, is a conspicuous object when sailing along the Mediterranean shore.
The virtues of the sulphureous spring have long been known; but it is only within the last few years that the increasing reputation of the medicated source led a company of speculators to build the village which now stands in its vicinity; the scattered cottages of theHuertahaving been found quite incapable of lodging the vast crowd of valetudinarians, annuallydrawn to the spot. The same parties have yet more recently erected a chapel, and also theFonda, mentioned in the preceding chapter.
The little village is built with the regularity of even Wiesbaden itself, but nothing can well be more different in other respects than it is from that, or any other watering-place, which I have ever visited. It consists of five or six parallel stacks of houses, forming streets which open at one end upon the bank overhanging the now sulphurated stream, that flows down from Casares; and which abut, at the other, against the side of the lofty mountain whence the medicated spring issues. These streets are covered in with trellis-work, over which vines are trained, rendering them cool, as well as agreeable to the sight. The houses are all built on a uniform plan, namely, they have no upper story, and contain butone room each; which room is furnished with the usual Spanish kitchen-range—that is, with three or four little bricked stoves built into a kind of dresser. By this arrangement, every room is, of itself, capable of forming acomplete establishment; and in most cases, indeed, it does serve the triple purposes of a kitchen, a refectory, and a dormitory, to its frugal inmates. When a family is large, however, an entire lareet must be hired for its accommodation.
The principal speculator in the joint-stock village is a gentleman of Estepona; andElSeñor Juan—orTio Juan, as he is familiarly called by those admitted to his intimacy—is a poor relative, who, for the slight perquisites of office, readily undertook the charge of the infant establishment.
The choice of theTiowas, in every respect, a judicious one; for, having drunk himself off the crutches on which he hobbled down to the baths, he has become a kind of walking advertisement of the efficacy of the waters. He is not, however, like the unsightly fellows who perambulate the streets of London with placards, a silent one; for I know of no man more thoroughly versed in the art ofviva vocepuffing thanTio Juan; and then he has stored his memory with such a fund of useful watering-place information, that he is a perfect guide to theHediondaand its environs.
TheTioand I soon became wonderful cronies; I derived great amusement from hiscuentas—he, much gratification from my nightly whisky-toddy. In fact, the two dovetailed into each other in a most remarkable manner; for, when once theTiohad attached one of his long stories to a (pint) bottle of “poteen,” there was no possibility of separating them—they drew cork and breath together, and together only they came to a conclusion.
He knew every body that visited the baths, and every thing about them; could point outthose who came for health, and those who were allured by dissipation; could tell which ladies and gentlemen were looking out for matrimony, which for intrigue; whether the buxom widow had fruitful vineyards and olive grounds with her weeds; whether the young ladies had shiningonzasto recommend them as well as sparkling eyes.
Then the Tio knew where every medicinal herb grew that was suited to any given case—could point out the haunt of every covey of red-legged partridges in the vicinity—could tell to an hour when a flight of quail would cross from the parched shores of Africa—when the matchlessbecafigoswould alight upon the neighbouring fig-trees—and, as the season advanced, he would mark the time to a nicety when the first annual visit of the woodcocks might be looked for to the wooded glens beyond the baths.
As the historian of the wonder-working spring, theTiowas not less valuable; though, it must be confessed, the terms in which he conveyed the idea of its vast antiquity were any thing but prepossessing; viz., “Pues! saben ustedes, que esa hedionda es mas vieja que la sarna.” “Know then, gentlemen, that this fetid spring is older than the itch.” In other respects, however, the information he had collected, besides being most rare, possessed afreshness that was truly delightful; “Siglos hay,[75]” he would continue, “the spring wasendemoniado, forCarlomagno, or some other great hero of the most remote antiquity, drove an evil spirit into the mountain, which said spirit, to be revenged on mankind, poisoned the source whence the stream flows. Saint James, however, arriving in the country soon after—having taken Spain under his especial protection—determined to expel this imp of Satan. This was done accordingly, and the devil went over into Barbary, (where he eventually stirred up the Moors against the adopted children ofSantiago—the story ofDon RodrigoandLa Cavabeing all a fable,) leaving nothing but his sulphur behind.”
“The good saint, to perpetuate the fame of the miracle he had wrought, next determined to endue the spring with extraordinary curative properties; not depriving it, however, of the unusually bad smell left by the devil, that the marvellous work he was about to perform might be the more apparent to future generations.”
“Some years after this, the baths were visited by ‘muchos emperadores de Roma;’[76]amongst others, Trajan and Hercules; as also by the famous Roland; and, ‘segun dicen,’ byun Ingles, llamado Malbrù, y otra gente muy principal.”[77]“In those days,” continued the Tio, “there werepalathios, posa’a, y to’o,[78]but then came the Moors (with the devil in their train), and laid every thing waste. They had not the power, however, to deprive the stream of its virtues; and great they are, and most justly celebratedpor todo la España.”[79]
In detailing the wonderful properties of the spring committed to his charge,Tio Juanwould enter with all the minuteness of an Herodotus. By his account, there was no ailment to which suffering humanity is exposed that it would not reach. It was a “universal medicine"—a Hygeian fountain that bestowed perpetual youth—a Styx that rendered mankind invulnerable. It gave strength to the weak, and ease to those who were in pain—rendered the barren fruitful, and the splenetic, good-humoured—made the fat, lean, and the lean, fat. By it the good liver was freed from gout, and the bad liver from bile. The sores of the leper were dried up, and the lungs of the asthmatic inflated—it made the maimed whole, and patched up the broken-hearted. He had known many instances of its curing consumption, and had seen it act like a charm in cases of tympany.
“In fact,” said old Juan—“para todo tiene remedio.—Mir’ usted[80]—I, who on my arrival here could not put a foot to the ground, now, as you may perceive, walk about like aJovencito;[81]and, under proper directions, I have no doubt it would make a man live for ever.”[82]
Nor did the long list of the water’s valuable qualities end here. It was good for all the common purposes of life—for stewing and for boiling—for washing and for shaving;—and, to wind up all, as we go on sinning, until, by constant repetition, crime no longer pricks one’s conscience, so, theTiodeclared, one went on drinking this devilish water until it positively became palatable. “Jo no bebo otra,” he concluded, “nunca bebo otra—guiso y to’o con ella.”[83]
Now, though the Tio painted the yellow spring thuscouleur de rose, and his account of its wonderful properties, like his system of chronology, must be received with caution, yet I must needs confess that theHediondaseemed to perform extraordinary cures; and, even in my own case, I ever fancied that after a few days passed at the baths, I returned to Gibraltar with invigoratedpowers of digestion. I could by no means, however, bring myself to submit to theTio’sdiscipline, and he was wont to shake his head very seriously, when, returning from a hard day’s shooting, I used to request him to open a bath for me after sunset—Hercules, himself, he thought could not have stood that.
That this spring was known to the Romans there can be no manner of doubt, since the public bath, which still exists, is a work of that people. The source is very copious, and the water of an equal temperature throughout the year, viz., 73 to 75 degrees of Fahrenheit’s thermometer.
On analysis it is found to contain large quantities of hydrogen and carbonic acid gases, and the following proportions of fixed substances in fifty pounds of water, viz., six grains of muriate of lime; fifty-six of sulphate of magnesia; thirty-five of sulphate of lime; ten of magnesia; and four of silica. The quantity of sulphur it holds in solution is so great, that the vine-dressers in the neighbourhood make themselves matches, by merely steeping linen rags in the waste water of the baths.
The use of the bath has been found very efficacious in the cure of all kinds of cutaneous diseases, ulcers, wounds, and elephantiasis; and taken inwardly, the water is considered by the faculty as extremely beneficial in cases of gout,asthma, scrofula, rheumatism, dyspepsia, and, as the Tio said, in fact, in almost every disorder that human nature is subject to.
The season for taking the waters is from the beginning of June to the end of September; and it is astonishing during those four months what vast crowds of persons, of every grade and calling, are brought together. Nobles, priests, peasants, and beggars—the gouty, hypochondriac, lame, and blind—all flock from every part of the kingdom to the famed Hedionda. It was ever a matter of surprise to me where such a host can find accommodation.
The same regimen is prescribed at this as at other watering places; viz., plenty of the spring, moderate exercise, and abstemious diet; and in this latter item, at least, the injunctions are as generally disregarded at Manilba as at the Brunnens of Nassau: that is, comparatively speaking, for it must be borne in mind that a German’s daily food would support a Spaniard for a week.
The principal bath is open to the public, and, being very large and tolerably deep, is by far the pleasantest, when one can be sure of its entire possession. Those which have been built by the company of speculators are too small, though convenient in other respects. The charge for the use of these is moderate enough, viz., one real and a half each time ofbathing; which includes a trifling gratuity toTio Juan.
The source from which the drinkers fill their goblets is open to all comers, and any one may bottle and carry off the precious waterad libitum. A considerable quantity is sent in stone jars to the neighbouring towns; but Tio Juan maintained—and I believe not without good reason—that it lost all its properties on the journey “amen del mal olor.”[84]
The situation of the new village would have been more agreeable had it been built somewhat higher up the side of the sierra, instead of on the immediate bank of the rivulet, where it is excluded from the fine view it might otherwise command, and is sheltered from every breath of air. It is not, however, so sultry as might be expected, considering its confined situation; for the mountain behind screens it from the sun’s rays at an early hour after noon, and the opposite bank of the ravine, by sloping down gradually to the stream, and being clothed to the water’s edge with vines, fig, and other fruit-trees, throws back no reflected heat upon the dwellings.
The manner of life of the visiters of thehediondais not less different from that of the watering places of other countries, than the place itself is from Cheltenham or Carlsbad. Theyrise with the sun; drink their first glass of water at the spring on their way to chapel; a second glass, in returning from their devotions; and then take apaseito[85]in thehuerta: but not until after the third dose do they venture on their usual breakfast of a cup of chocolate. The bath and the toilette occupy the rest of the morning. Dinner is taken at one or two o’clock; theSiestafollows, and before sunset another bath, perhaps. ThePaseocomes next—that is quite indispensable—and theTertuliaconcludes the arrangements for the day.
This, at the baths, is a kind of public assembly held in the open air, and generally in one of the vine-sheltered streets of the modern village. A guitar, cards, dancing, and games of forfeit, are the various resources of theréunion; which breaks up at an early hour.
Tio Juan, in his shirt-sleeves and slippers, is a constant attendant at theTertulia, usually looking on at the sports and pastimes with becoming gravity, but occasionally taking a hand atMalilla,[86]or joining the noisy circle playing atEl Enfermo;[87]in which, when the usual question is asked, “What willyougive the sick man?” he invariably answers, “El Agua—nada mas que el agua—que no hay cosa mas sano en elmundo,”[88]puffing away at his paper cigar all the while with the most imperturbable gravity, and casting a side glance at me, as much as to say—“not a word of our nightlysymposium, if you please.”
The company on these occasions is, as may be supposed, of a very mixed kind. Let it not be imagined, however, that because “Señor Juan” presents himself with bare elbows, that it is altogether of a secondary order—far from it—for such is the caprice of fashion, such the love of change, that even the noblest of the land are ofttimes inmates of the little inconvenient hovels that I have described; butTio Juanis a privileged person—every body consults him, every one makes him his or her confidant. And so curiously is Spanish society constituted, that though considered the proudest people in the world, yet, on occasions like this, Spaniards lay aside the distinction of rank, and mix together in the most unceremonious manner. Indeed, no people I have ever seen treat their inferiors with greater respect than the Spanish Nobles. They enter familiarly into conversation with the servants standing behind their chair; and, strange as it may appear, this freedom is never taken advantage of, nor are they less respected, nor worse served in consequence.
The custom of kneeling down in common at their places of public worship may have a tendency to keep up this feeling, warning the rich and powerful of the earth that, though placed temporarily above the peasant in the world’s estimation, yet that he is their equal in the sight of the Creator of all; an accountable being like themselves, and deserving of the treatment of a human being.
The Spanish nobles certainly find their reward in adopting such a line of conduct, for they are served with extraordinary fidelity; and the horrors which were perpetratedthrough the instrumentality of servants, during the French revolution, is little to be apprehended in this country; perhaps, indeed, this good understanding between master and man has hitherto saved Spain from its reign of terror.
The chapel of the bathing village is generally thronged with penitents; for people become very devout when they have, or fancy they have, one foot in the grave. The little edifice may be considered the repository of thearchivesofthe Hedionda, for countless are the legs, arms, heads, and bodies, moulded in wax, or carved in wood, and telling of wondrous cures, that have been offered at the shrine of Our Lady ofLos Remedios.
Leaving the good Romanists at their devotions within the crowded chapel, andTio Juan,with one knee and his pitcher of water on the ground, and his staff in hand, offering a passing prayer behind the throng collected outside the open door, we will devote the morning to a scramble to the summit of the steep mountain that rises at the back of the baths.
TheSierra de Utrera, by which name this rugged ridge is distinguished, is of very singular formation. Its eastern base (whence thehediondaissues) is covered with a crumbling mass of schist, disposed in laminæ, shelving downwards, at an angle of 25 or 30 degrees with the horizon. This sloping bank reaches to about one third the height of the mountain, when rude rocks of a most peculiar character shoot up above its general surface, rising pyramidically, but assuming most fantastic forms, and each pile consisting of a series of huge blocks (sometimes fourteen or fifteen in number), resting loosely one upon another, and seemingly so much off the centre of gravity as to lead to the belief that a slight push would lay them prostrate.
At first these detached pinnacles rise only to the height of fifteen or twenty feet, but, on drawing near the crest of the ridge, they attain nearly twice that elevation. The general surface of the mountain, above which these piles of rocking stones rise, is rent by deep chasms, as if the whole mass of rock had, at some distantperiod, been shaken to its very foundation by an earthquake. In these rents, soil has been gradually collected, and vegetation been the consequence; but the general character of the mountain is arid and sterile.
The ascent becomes very difficult as one proceeds, and, in fact, it requires some little agility to reach the crest of the singular ridge. Its summit presents a very rough, though nearly horizontal surface, varying in width from 300 to 400 yards; and, looking from its western side, the spectator fancies himself elevated on the walls of some vast castle, so precipitously does the rocky ledge fall in that direction, so level and smiling is the cultivated country spread out but a couple of hundred feet below him.
This rocky plateau appears to have been covered, in former days, with the same singularly formed pyramids that protrude from the eastern acclivity of the mountain; but they have probably been hewn into mill stones, as many of the rough blocks strewed about its surface are now in process of becoming. The plateau extends nearly two miles in a parallel direction to the rock of Gibraltar, that is, nearly due north and south by compass; and, when on its summit, the ridge appears continuous; but, on proceeding to examine the southern portion of the plateau, I found myself suddenly on thebrink of a chasm, upwards of a hundred feet deep, which, traversing the mountain from east to west, cuts it completely in two. This cleft varies in width from 50 to 100 feet; and in winter brings down a copious stream, being the drain of a considerable extent of country on the western side of the ridge. It is partially clothed with shrubs and wild olive-trees, and a rude pathway leads down the dark dell to thehedionda, which issues from the base of the mountain, about 200 yards to the north of the opening of the chasm.
This remarkable gap, though not distinguishable from the baths situated immediately below it, is so well defined, and has so peculiar an appearance at a distance, that it is an important landmark for the coasting vessels.
The southern portion of the Sierra is far less accessible than that which has been described; in fact, access to its summit can be gained only by means of a ramped road, which, piercing the rocky precipice on its western side, has been made to facilitate the transport of the millstones prepared there. In other respects, this part of the plateau is of the same character as the other.
Wonderful are the tales of fairies, devils, and evil spirits, told by the goatherds and others who frequent this singular mountain; andTio Juan, who never would suffer himself to beoutdone in the marvellous, told us that “un Ingles,” who, about two years before, had been on a visit to the baths, had disappeared there in a most mysterious way. A goatherd of his acquaintance had seen him descend into a cleft in search of some herb, but out of it he had never returned. “Se dicen,” he concluded, “que era uno de esos Lores, de que hay tantos en Inglaterra;[89]but I can hardly believe, if he had possessed such ‘montones de oro’[90]as was represented, that he would have been going about like a pedlar, with a basket slung to his back, picking up all sorts of herbs, and drying them with great care every day when he returned home, spreading them out between the leaves of a large book. ‘A me mi parece,’[91]that he was gathering them to make tea with; but I know an herb which grows on that Sierra, which is worth all the medicines[92]in the world: ay! and in some cases it is yet quicker, though not more effectual, in its cure, than even the waters of thehedionda; and some day,Don Carlos, I will walk up and show you the cleft wherein it grows.”
TheTio’soccupations were, however, too constant to allow of his accompanying me in searchof this wonderful plant, and, consequently, my curiosity concerning it was never gratified.
The district of Manilba is celebrated for the productiveness of its vineyards, and the undulated country between the baths and the southern foot of theSierra Bermejais almost exclusively devoted to the culture of the grape. That most esteemed is a large purple kind. It is highly flavoured, and makes a strong-bodied and very palatable wine, though, in nine cases out of ten, the wine is spoilt by some defect of the skin in which it has been carried.
The husks of the Manilba grape, after the juice has been expressed, enjoy a reputation for the cure of rheumatism, scarcely less than that of the sulphureous spring itself. The sufferer is immersed up to the neck in a vat full of the fermenting skins, and, after remaining therein a whole morning, comes forth as purple as a printer’s devil. I have met with persons who declared they had received great benefit from this vinous bath; but I question whether interment in hot sand (a mode of treatment, by the way, which has been tried with great success) would not have been found more efficacious, without subjecting the patient to this unpleasant discoloration.
Several interesting mornings’ excursions may be made from the baths. The village of Manilba (about two miles distant) is situated on ahigh, but narrow ridge, that protrudes from the south-eastern extremity of the Sierra de Utrera. It is a compactly built place, and commands fine views: towards the mountains on one side, and over the Mediterranean on the other. The population amounts to about 3000 souls, principally vinedressers and husbandmen.
On one occasion—having found all the lodging-houses at thehediondaoccupied, I established myself for a few days at the posada at Manilba, where a singular adventure befel me. Mine host entered my room on the evening of my arrival, and very mysteriously informed me, that a certain person—a friend of his—a Spanish officer “por fin,” who had distinguished himself greatly under the constitutional government, and was acaballero de toda confianza,[93]wished very much to have the honour of paying me a visit, if I were agreeable, which, hearing I was alone, he thought it possible I might be; and, before I had time fully to explain that I was quite tired from a long day’s shooting, and must beg to be excused, theLismahagohimself walked in—as vulgar, off-handed, free-and-easy a gentleman as I ever came across.
Having expressed unbounded love for the English nation, and stated his conviction—drawn from his intimate knowledge of the characterof British officers—that they were, one and all, well disposed to assist in the grand work of regenerating Spain, he proceeded to state, that the “friends of liberty,” in various towns of that part of the Peninsula, had entered into a plot to subvert the existing government of the country, and having many friends in Gibraltar, wished, through the medium of an officer of that garrison, to communicate with them; that, understanding I was, &c. &c. &c.
I had merely acknowledged that I comprehended what he was saying, by bowing severally to the numerous panegyrics on liberty, and compliments to myself and nation, with which he interlarded his discourse—for the above is but the skimmed milk of his eloquent harangue; but, finding that he had at length concluded, I expressed the deep regret I felt at not being able to meet his friendly proposal in the way he wished, from the circumstance of my time being fully occupied in preparing a deep-laid plot against my own government—nothing less, in fact, than to give up the important fortress of Gibraltar to the Emperor of Morocco, until we had established a republic in England. When this grand project was accomplished, I added, I should be quite at leisure, and would most willingly enter into any treasonable designs against any other government; but, at present, he must see it was quite out of the question.
My visiter gazed on me “with the eyes of astonishment,” but I kept my countenance. He rose from his seat—I did the same.
“Are you serious?” asked he.
“Perfectly so,” I replied; “but, of course, I reckon on your maintaining the strictest secrecy in the matter I have just communicated,” I added earnestly.
“You may rely in perfect confidence upon me.”
“Do you smoke? Pray accept of a Gibraltar cigar. I regret that I cannot ask you to remain with me, but I have letters of the utmost importance to write, which must be sent off by daybreak.” He accepted my proffered cigar, begged I would command his services on all occasions, and walked off.
I made sure he was a government spy, and in a towering rage sent for the innkeeper. He protested such was not the case, adding, “but, to confess the truth,” he was a poor harmless fellow,—a reduced officer of the constitutional army,—who was very fond of the English, not less so of wine; talked a great deal of nonsense, which nobody minded; and hoped I would take no notice of it.
I reminded mine host, that he had said he was a “distinguished officer,” and had called him “his friend."—“Si, señor, es verdad;[94]butthe fact is, he followed me up stairs, and I knew he was at the door, listening to what I might say.”
I very much doubted the truth of his asseverations, and my doubts were confirmed by my never afterwards seeing the constitutional officer about the premises; but, to prevent a repetition of such introductions, I begged to be allowed the privilege of choosing my own associates, telling him, indeed, that my further stay at his house would depend upon it. I still, however, continued to look upon the fellow as a spy, until the mad attempt made by Torrijos to bring about a revolution, not very long afterwards, led me to think that my visiter’s overture might really have been seriously intended.
Manilba is distant about seven miles from Estepona. The first part of the road thither lies through productive vineyards; the latter along the sea-shore, on reaching which it falls into the road from Gibraltar to Malaga.
Not many years since Estepona was a mere fishing village, built under the protection of one of thecasa fuertesthat guard the coast; but the fort stands now in the midst of a thriving town, containing 6000 inhabitants.
The fish taken here finds a ready sale in the Serranía, whither it is conveyed in a half-salted state, on the backs of mules or asses. TheSardinafrequents this coast in great numbers; itis a delicious fish, of the herring kind, but more delicately flavoured.
The environs of Estepona are very fruitful; and oranges and lemons are exported thence to a large amount—the greater portion to England. The place is distant twenty-five miles from Gibraltar (by the road), and sixteen from Marbella. To the latter the road is very good.
A most delightful ride offers itself to return from hence to the baths of Manilba, by way of Casares. The road, for the first few miles, keeps under the deeply seamed and pine-clad side of theSierra Bermeja, and then, leaving the mountain-path to Gaucin (mentioned in a preceding chapter) to the right, enters an intersected country, winding along the edge of several deep ravines, shaded by groves of chesnut-trees, and reaches Casares very unexpectedly; leaving a large convent, situated on the side of a steep bank, on the left, just before entering the narrow, rock-bound town.
The road from Casares to the baths has already been described, but two other routes offer themselves from that town to reach Manilba. The more direct of these keeps the fissure in which thehediondais situated on the right; the other makes a wide circuit round theSierra de Utrera, and leaves the baths on the left. By the former the distance is five and a half, by the latter seven miles.