Tracks Of A Rolling Stone by Henry J. Coke (free e reader txt) 📖
- Author: Henry J. Coke
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Except In The Bull-Ring. The Whole Of This Picturesque Dress
Is Now, I Think, Given Up. I Have Spent The Last Two Winters
In The South Of Spain, But Have Not Once Seen It.
It Must Not Be Supposed That We Chose This 'Get-Up' To
Gratify Any Aesthetic Taste Of Our Own Or Other People's; It
Was Long Before The Days Of The 'Too-Toos,' Whom Mr. Gilbert
Brought To A Timely End. We Had Settled To Ride Through
Spain From Gibraltar To Bayonne, Choosing Always The Bridle-
Roads So As To Avoid Anything Approaching A Beaten Track. We
Were To Visit The Principal Cities And Keep More Or Less A
Northerly Course, Staying On The Way At Such Places As
Malaga, Cordova, Toledo, Madrid, Valladolid, And Burgos. The
Rest Was To Be Left To Chance. We Were To Take No Map; And
When In Doubt As To Diverging Roads, The Toss Of A Coin Was
To Settle It. This Programme Was Conscientiously Adhered To.
The Object Of The Dress Then Was Obscurity. For Safety
Chapter 33 Pg 176Brigands Abounded) And For Economy, It Was Desirable To Pass
Unnoticed. We Never Knew In What Dirty Posada Or Road-Side
Venta We Should Spend The Night. For The Most Part It Was At
The Resting-Place Of The Muleteers, Which Would Be Nothing
But A Roughly Paved Dark Chamber, One End Occupied By Mules
And The Other By Their Drivers. We Made Our Own Omelets And
Salad And Chocolate; With The Exception Of The Never Failing
Bacallao, Or Salt Fish, We Rarely Had Anything Else; And
Rolling Ourselves Into Our Cloaks, With Saddles For Pillows,
Slept Amongst The Muleteers On The Stone Flags. We Had
Bought A Couple Of Ponies In The Seville Market For 7l. And
8l. Our Alforjas Or Saddlebags Contained All We Needed. Our
Portmanteaus Were Sent On From Town To Town, Wherever We Had
Arranged To Stop. Rough As The Life Was, We Saw The People
Of Spain As No Ordinary Travellers Could Hope To See Them.
The Carriers, The Shepherds, The Publicans, The Travelling
Merchants, The Priests, The Barbers, The Molineras Of
Antequera, The Maritornes', The Sancho Panzas - All Just As
They Were Seen By The Immortal Knight.
From The Mozos De La Cuadra (Ostlers) And Arrieros, Upwards
And Downwards, Nowhere Have I Met, In The Same Class, With
Such Natural Politeness. This Is Much Changed For The Worse
Now; But Before The Invasion Of Tourists One Never Passed A
Man On The Road Who Did Not Salute One With A 'Vaya Usted Con
Dios.' Nor Would The Most Indigent Vagabond Touch The Filthy
Bacallao Which He Drew From His Wallet Till He Had
Courteously Addressed The Stranger With The Formula 'Quiere
Usted Comer?' ('Will Your Lordship Please To Eat?') The
Contrast Between The People And The Nobles In This Respect
Was Very Marked. We Saw Something Of The Latter In The Club
At Seville, Where One Met Men Whose High-Sounding Names And
Titles Have Come Down To Us From The Greatest Epochs Of
Spanish History. Their Ignorance Was Surprising. Not One Of
Them Had Been Farther Than Madrid. Not One Of Them Knew A
Word Of Any Language But His Own, Nor Was He Acquainted With
The Rudiments Even Of His Country's History. Their
Conversation Was Restricted To The Bull-Ring And The Cockpit,
To Cards And Women. Their Chief Aim Seemed To Be To Stagger
Us With The Number Of Quarterings They Bore Upon Their
Escutcheons; And They Appraised Others By A Like Estimate.
Cayley, Tickled With The Humour Of Their Childish Vanity,
Painted An Elaborate Coat Of Arms, Which He Stuck In The
Crown Of His Hat, And By Means Of Which He Explained To Them
That He Too Was By Rights A Spanish Nobleman. With The
Utmost Gravity He Delivered Some Such Medley As This: His
Iberian Origin Dated Back To The Time Of Hannibal, Who, After
His Defeat Of The Papal Forces And Capture Of Rome, Had, As
They Well Knew, Married Princess Peri Banou, Youngest
Daughter Of Ferdinand And Isabella. The Issue Of The
Marriage Was The Famous Cardinal Chicot, From Whom He -
George Cayley - Was Of Direct Male Descent. When Chicot Was
Slain By Oliver Cromwell At The Battle Of Hastings, His
Chapter 33 Pg 177Descendants, Foiled In Their Attempt To Capture England With
The Spanish Armada, Settled In The Principality Of Yorkshire,
Adopted The Noble Name Of Cayley, And Still Governed That
Province As Members Of The British Parliament.
From That Day We Were Treated With Every Mark Of Distinction.
Here Is Another Of My Friend's Pranks. I Will Let Cayley
Speak; For Though I Kept No Journal, We Had Agreed To Write A
Joint Account Of Our Trip, And Our Notebooks Were Common
Property.
After Leaving Malaga We Met Some Beggars On The Road, To One
Of Whom, 'An Old Hag With One Eye And A Grizzly Beard,' I
Threw The Immense Sum Of A Couple Of 2-Cuarto Pieces. An Old
Man Riding Behind Us On An Ass With Empty Panniers, Seeing
Fortunes Being Scattered About The Road With Such Reckless
And Unbounded Profusion, Came Up Alongside, And Entered Into
A Piteous Detail Of His Poverty. When He Wound Up With Plain
Begging, The Originality And Boldness Of The Idea Of A
Mounted Beggar Struck Us In So Humorous A Light That We Could
Not Help Laughing. As We Rode Along Talking His Case Over,
Cayley Said, 'Suppose We Rob Him. He Has Sold His Market
Produce In Malaga, And Depend Upon It, Has A Pocketful Of
Money.' We Waited For Him To Come Up. When He Got Fairly
Between Us, Cayley Pulled Out His Revolver (We Both Carried
Pistols) And Thus Addressed Him:
'Impudent Old Scoundrel! Stand Still. If Thou Stirr'st Hand
Or Foot, Or Openest Thy Mouth, I Will Slay Thee Like A Dog.
Thou Greedy Miscreant, Who Art Evidently A Man Of Property
And Hast An Ass To Ride Upon, Art Not Satisfied Without
Trying To Rob The Truly Poor Of The Alms We Give Them.
Therefore Hand Over At Once The Two Dollars For Which Thou
Hast Sold Thy Cabbages For Double What They Were Worth.'
The Old Culprit Fell On His Knees, And Trembling Violently,
Prayed Cayley For The Love Of The Virgin To Spare Him.
'One Moment, Caballeros,' He Cried, 'I Will Give You All I
Possess. But I Am Poor, Very Poor, And I Have A Sick Wife At
The Disposition Of Your Worships.'
'Wherefore Art Thou Fumbling At Thy Foot? Thou Carriest Not
Thy Wife In Thy Shoe?'
'I Cannot Untie The String - My Hand Trembles; Will Your
Worships Permit Me To Take Out My Knife?'
He Did So, And Cutting The Carefully Knotted Thong Of A
Leather Bag Which Had Been Concealed In The Leg Of His
Stocking, Poured Out A Handful Of Small Coin And Began To
Weep Piteously.
Chapter 33 Pg 178
Said Cayley, 'Come, Come, None Of That, Or We Shall Feel It
Our Duty To Shoot Thy Donkey That Thou May'st Have Something
To Whimper For.'
The Genuine Tears Of The Poor Old Fellow At Last Touched The
Heart Of The Jester.
'We Know Now That Thou Art Poor,' Said He, 'For We Have Taken
All Thou Hadst. And As It Is The Religion Of The Ingleses,
Founded On The Practice Of Their Celebrated Saint, Robino
Hoodo, To Levy Funds From The Rich For The Benefit Of The
Needy, Hold Out Thy Sombero, And We Will Bestow A Trifle Upon
Thee.'
So Saying He Poured Back The Plunder; To Which Was Added, To
The Astonishment Of The Receiver, Some Supplementary Pieces
That Nearly Equalled The Original Sum.
Chapter 34 Pg 179
Before Setting Out From Seville We Had Had Our Foreign Office
Passports Duly Vised. Our Profession Was Given As That Of
Travelling Artists, And The Vise Included The Permission To
Carry Arms. More Than Once The Sight Of Our Pistols Caused
Us To Be Stopped By The Carabineros. On One Occasion These
Road-Guards Disputed The Wording Of The Vise. They Protested
That 'Armas' Meant 'Escopetas,' Not Pistols, Which Were
Forbidden. Cayley Indignantly Retorted, 'Nothing Is
Forbidden To Englishmen. Besides, It Is Specified In Our
Passports That We Are 'Personas De Toda Confianza,' Which
Checkmated Them.
We Both Sketched, And Passed Ourselves Off As 'Retratistas'
(Portrait Painters), And Did A Small Business In This Way -
Rather In The Shape Of Caricatures, I Fear, But Which Gave
Much Satisfaction. We Charged One Peseta (Seven-Pence), Or
Two, A Head, According To The Means Of The Sitter. The
Fiction That We Were Earning Our Bread Wholesomely Tended To
Moderate The Charge For It.
Passing Through The Land Of Don Quixote's Exploits, We
Reverentially Visited Any Known Spot Which These Had Rendered
Famous. Amongst Such Was The Venta Of Quesada, From Which,
Or From Quixada, As Some Conjecture, The Knight Derived His
Chapter 34 Pg 180Surname. It Was Here, Attracted By Its Castellated Style,
And By Two 'Ladies Of Pleasure' At Its Door - Whose Virginity
He At Once Offered To Defend, That He Spent The Night Of His
First Sally. It Was Here
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