Wild Spain Part 8

FLAMINGOES ON THEIR NESTS.

Page 112.]

One other point before we leave the flamingo and its haunts. We have seen it stated that the brilliant colours of the flamingo do but reflect the brilliancy of its environment--that these bright colours have been acquired through the aesthetic tastes of the bird and by "selective preference"; then, proceeding to enlarge on a "fascinating theory," its expounder goes on from particular to general, and to demonstrate that this Darwinian principle is generally operative in ornithic coloration.

Whether birds in general have or have not aesthetic tastes in the matter of coloration or ornament, we are not prepared to say: but to our less imaginative minds it is a question whether there exists in nature a shred of real evidence in support of such a hypothesis. The flamingo truly has a brilliant plumage, but _never_ a brilliant environment. No one who has been intimately acquainted with these birds in their haunts could have conceived such a sentiment; for anything less brilliant than the bleak and tawny monotony which characterizes the chosen homes of the flamingo it would be impossible to imagine. The flamingo itself, indeed, is the one solitary speck of pure bright colour amidst the broad leagues of mud and muddy water which it so conspicuously ornaments. Other birds are there, it is true, but to them the same remark applies. They, also, are as bright, pure and conspicuously different from their environment as are the flamingoes. What more exquisite examples of bright, spotless beauty amidst strongly contrasted surroundings than the stilts and avocets, the lovely southern herons, egrets and spoonbills, the gulls and marsh-terns? These are but a handful of examples fatal to such a theory, and they could easily be multiplied indefinitely.

That many brilliant bird-forms affect brilliant surroundings, that the fauna of the cold and colourless north in general lacks the gorgeous hues of certain denizens of the tropics, or, again, that many creatures possess hues a.s.similated to the general tone of their destined haunts--all these are _facts_ which we readily recognize. But are such facts much more than coincidences? Or is it wise to deduce any binding rules or axiom therefrom? As regards protective a.s.similation in colour, that is quite a different thing: its advantages are self-evident, and its application more or less universal throughout the animal-world, but it is hardly to the point. Protective coloration we recognize and understand--it is an every-day phenomenon--but aesthetic tastes in colour we utterly reject.

The composition of the human mind is undoubtedly speculative: and to those of deep thought, as distinguished from others the bent of whose energies tends rather towards action, the temptation to theorize--to venture on the dangerous regions of inference and deduction--appears irresistible. The contemplative thinker formulates theories the apparent beauty of which fascinate his imagination. Collateral evidence which seems to substantiate, is, in general, not difficult to find--that of a negative or prejudicial character is not sought. Then with a mind unconsciously bia.s.sed in favour of a preconceived idea, it may happen that probabilities are mistaken for facts, evidence for proof: and thus a new hypothesis is duly launched, based on ten, fifty, or a hundred adduced circ.u.mstances, the whole of which may be merely coincidences, and exceptions to the rule if applied to the millions of unadduced cases, and perhaps, even in relation to the particular examples cited, of no direct bearing in the sense in which it is sought to apply them.

As an example of the cla.s.s of theories alluded to, we have read that the colours of the sea-gull tribe are dark above and light below in order, on the one hand, that they may escape the searching scrutiny of the eagle soaring above, and, on the other, avoid alarming their finny prey beneath. If there was anything in this idea, it would, at least, be a hard case for those sea-birds not so coloured, and it should be added that of the birds which are so coloured several species take three or four years to attain adult dress. How do they survive those earlier years? But a very slight acquaintance with the subjects in life shows that there is actually nothing in it. Lying in one's gunning-punt, the whitest-breasted gulls, as viewed from below against the lightest of cloud backgrounds, are seen as clearly as if the bird's colour was actually black. Every detail of form and movement is clearly distinguishable--the clean-cut wings and tail, legs pressed close up under the latter, the pointed head turning from side to side as it searches the waters. Its colour makes no difference, and is no factor at all. Then from high above, from the heights of a sea-cliff, what man of even moderate vision cannot distinguish with equal ease the movements of the black-backed gull from those of the pale herring-gull and paler tern? And both eagles and surface-swimming fish are infinitely keener of vision than the sharpest-eyed of our kind.

These remarks are penned from no love of argument, nor inspired by invidious motive, but simply with a view to get at _facts_ and thereby advance the interests of science: that is, of true knowledge.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER X.

BRIGANDAGE IN SPAIN.

SKETCHES OF TWO ROBBER-TYPES.

I.--VIZCO EL BORJE.

The existence of the brigand, it would appear, is desirable in order to cast a glamour of heroism over the adventures of travellers in foreign lands. Many Peninsular tourists mention encounters with "brigands," and according to some books on Spanish travel, their authors were frequently experiencing hair-breadth escapes from these gentry, who were, of course, bristling as to their persons with deadly weapons--as is, in fact, nearly every harmless peasant or goatherd one may meet in the wilds. The tendency to overcolour is, perhaps, natural to imaginative writers; but it is a mistake to rush to the other extreme, and to deny _in toto_ the survival of this fraternity in modern Spain.

In his "Gatherings from Spain"--one of the best books ever written--Ford draws a picture of Spanish brigandage, actual and imaginary, and diagnoses the whole status of these "men of the road," as it existed in his day, with a knowledge and terseness that cannot be excelled. And although Ford wrote fifty years ago, yet his remarks stand substantially correct at the present day; the only change of importance being that measure of reclamation which half a century of equal laws has succeeded in effecting in the prowling _gitano_ or gypsy, in Ford's day a lawless pariah, the curse of rural Spain.

Though nowadays the traveller may, and probably would, traverse Iberia in every direction without personal molestation, yet the race of Jose Maria, the Jack Sheppard of the Peninsula, whose safe-conduct was more effective than that of his king, is not extinct, though, like other rapacious animals, his home is now confined to mountain-fastnesses, whence he only emerges to seize by a sudden coup some opportunity for plunder, of which his satellites have sent him notice--for, by profuse generosity and terrorism, the _ladron en grande_ holds the spa.r.s.e hill-peasantry in a bond of allegiance.

Putting on one side the conventional and highly-coloured notions that pa.s.s current, the condition of _bandolerismo_, or brigandage, at the present day may be thus defined:--There is first the n.o.ble outlaw, or "professional" robber-king, a rare and meteoric personage, of whom anon; and there are the sneaking petty pilferers who rob as opportunity serves, or as their wild environment almost suggests. These voltigeurs of the road are normally peasants, goatherds, or mere good-for-nothings; content to confine their energies to minor larcenies, and whose poor ambitions soar no higher than relieving solitary wayfarers of their watches, loose cash, &c., as happened to a friend of ours while traversing the sierras between Paterna and Alcala. Though a fight is no part of these footpads' tactics, yet in favourable situations a single hidden scoundrel may command the way, and dominate a dozen travellers who know not whether that sudden summons to halt and lay down their loose goods and chattels proceeds from one or from a score of a.s.sailants, concealed amid the tumbled rocks and dense underwood of a narrow pa.s.s. And, after all, it is probably wiser, if caught in such a trap, to lose a few dollars than to risk life.

Very different is the character of the n.o.ble robber-chief, or _ladron en grande_. In this man who leads the lawless, and, by force of predominant will, controls and commands a cut-throat gang, but ill-disposed either to subjection or discipline, there are qualities that, rightly directed, might attain any object sought--qualities of moral force, courage, and an iron will, that one cannot but admire. Men of this calibre appear but at intervals; for "nature is chary in the production of such specimens of dangerous grandeur." Such a man was Jose Maria; and of late years a fine example has been afforded by the notorious outlaw, Vizco el Borje, of whose methods of procedure the following incident, as narrated to us almost in the words of its princ.i.p.al victim, will serve to give a good idea.

At the little mountain-village of Zahrita it is the custom to celebrate the annual festival of its patron saint, San Antonio, by an amateur bull-fight, a performance at which the smartest of the young bloods of the village take the princ.i.p.al parts. For many years it had been the habit of the owner of the neighbouring pasturages to provide the bulls for this annual function free of charge; and on the eve of the festival the son of the well-to-do proprietor, Don Pedro de M----, was, with his steward Diego, and a herdsman, engaged in selecting some of the most fiery and active young bulls. Both were dismounted, and, rein in hand, were walking round the herd, when they were suddenly arrested by a sharp summons to halt and surrender. Then, turning round, they found themselves face to face with the muzzles of three levelled guns bearing upon them--the three mounted men having stolen up behind and taken them unawares. Resistance under such circ.u.mstances was out of the question.

The guns of both Pedro and his servant hung in their saddle-slings, but any movement in that direction would have brought instant fire upon them. Before they had well recovered from their surprise, one of the brigands coolly dismounted and took possession of both their guns, the other pair meanwhile each keeping his man well "covered." The unlucky Pedro was now completely at the mercy of his aggressors. At the order of one of these, evidently the chief, the prisoners remounted and followed his lead, the others closing in behind, and precluding all chance of escape, except at the risk--or certainty--of being shot down. The guide took a line leading towards the higher sierra, and avoiding the frequented track. Arrived in a densely close thicket, the cavalcade halted, and one man was sent forward to reconnoitre. A shrill whistle was heard in that direction, and presently nine other hors.e.m.e.n rode in.

The captives were now ordered to dismount, their eyes were closely bandaged, and they were informed that their lives depended on implicit obedience to orders, and that it was better for them to see nothing and to hear less--the latter an almost unnecessary injunction, since hardly a word had been spoken. For hours the captives were led forward, their horses stumbling along a rocky ascent, and they presently knew, by the absence of brushwood, that they had reached the higher regions of the sierra; then a halt was ordered, they were a.s.sisted to dismount, and led on foot along a pa.s.sage whose echoing sounds told them it was subterranean. Here, in an extensive cavern, probably the long-abandoned workings of a Roman mine, his eyes were unbandaged, and Pedro found himself in the presence of his three original a.s.sailants. The only furniture in the cave consisted of a few empty boxes; on one of these glimmered a flickering wick in a saucerful of oil. The robber-leader drew up another box for a seat, and producing writing materials, ordered Pedro to write to his dictation as follows:--"My dear father, I am in the power of sequestradores, who make good plans and bind fast. It is madness to put Government on their track--they will escape and you will lose your son. Your secrecy and money at once free me. You can send the silver by Diego, our steward, who bears you this. Let him appear on the mountain-road between Grazalema and El Bosque, riding a white donkey, and bringing ten thousand dollars." ... At this point the prisoner, who had so far written as directed, stopped short, and point-blank refused to demand such a sum--declaring he would not take from his brothers any part of their patrimony, and that the only sum he would accept of his father was such as might fall to him as one of a numerous family. The fairness of this, and the undaunted att.i.tude of Pedro, seemed to please the brigand, who declared, with a shake of his hand, that whatever bargain was struck should be honourably adhered to. The sum of 6,000 dollars was then inserted, the missive signed and sealed, and Diego, who had remained blindfold, was led to a point in the sierra which was familiar to him, his eyes unbandaged, and told to make the best of his way with the note to Jerez. This, as the dawn was just breaking, he had no difficulty in doing before night.

After Diego's departure, the chief invited his captive to sup with him and join in a _borracha_ (skin) of wine, under whose influence the bandit became more genial, and related certain facts concerning his personal history. He had formerly been an officer of _carabineros_, but being dismissed for some, as he held, trifling fault, all means of subsistence were denied to him, and losing caste step by step, there had gradually developed in his breast an intense hatred of all social arrangements, which had finally led to his present state of outlawry.

First he had been a smuggler, but, as the Spanish proverb runs,--

"De contrabandista a ladron No hay mas que un escalon."

(From a smuggler to a thief The step is short, the time is brief!)

Little by little his revolt against law and order led him into further excesses and more outrageous acts of crime. The daring courage and character of the man had attracted rogues of lesser calibre to his side, and now Vizco el Borje was the acknowledged chief of the party of plunder and anarchy.

The following night another party of robbers arrived: the captive was again blindfolded, and the dark journey resumed. For three days and nights the same course was pursued--the brigands each morning at dawn going to ground in a fresh earth. An amusing incident occurred during one of these nocturnal marches. The cavalcade was suddenly brought to a stop, and the words pa.s.sed down the line--_Civiles, civiles!_ The prisoner now hoped that his deliverance was at hand; the chief ordered his band to close up their ranks--the prisoner being removed some yards to the rear--and to prepare to fire. During the panic, and amidst the clicking of locks, Pedro took the opportunity of slightly raising his bandage. The robbers were halted on a narrow ledge of the mountain-side--a sheer rock-wall behind and a precipitous slope below making any lateral movement impossible. A direct retreat was of course available, but this did not commend itself to the chief, who, under the shadow of the cliff, had the approaching hors.e.m.e.n at a disadvantage. The clatter of hoofs sounded nearer and nearer, and as the first beast appeared on the ledge it was evident there had been a false alarm. The heavily-laden transport of a gang of smugglers advanced along the narrow track, and as they slowly filed past the robber-troop, the only words that pa.s.sed were _Buenas noches!_ and the reply _Vayan ustedes con Dios!_ Good night, and G.o.d go with you!

[Ill.u.s.tration: CIVIL GUARDS.]

On the second night Vizco had left his captive, saying he had other work in hand: but, a day or two afterwards, Pedro received a message from him, stating that, owing to the vigilance of the authorities, no opportunity had offered itself of meeting Diego and the white donkey at the appointed tryst: and instructing him again to write to his father, with fresh directions to forward half the stipulated ransom to Grazalema, where means would be found of receiving it--the other half to be borne by the white donkey to a freshly-appointed spot among the hills. Overjoyed at receiving this second a.s.surance that his son still lived, the father, though an old man, set off at once, with six hundred pounds in cash, on the long ride to Grazalema. Then for two days he hung about its precipitous streets in an agony of suspense almost unendurable. No one spoke to him till the third morning, when a man leading a pony laden with the rough woollen cloth which is made in Grazalema and forms the staple industry of the little town, accosted him as he pa.s.sed with the words--"Follow me." The pony was stopped before a small shop wherein some of the same woollen cloths were exposed for sale: and pa.s.sing through into the small back-room, the old father found a man seated whose appearance was that of a cloth-pedlar--men who with their st.u.r.dy ponies carry on a trade or barter of these coa.r.s.e woollens throughout the sierras.

After the customary Andalucian exchange of civilities, the pedlar, looking the old man straight in the face, said, "Have you the three thousand dollars? You know this?" and he produced Pedro's pencil-case.

The money was at the posada, and soon the old man, ripping up the stuffing of his saddle, returned to the pedlar's shop with that sum. The money was counted out, and Vizco el Borje, springing on top of that honest-looking freight of coa.r.s.e cloth, was soon clear of the streets of Grazalema and steering his pony to some well-known mountain-lair.

While these events were occurring in Grazalema poor Diego was wearying of his long-delayed a.s.signation. For three days he and his white donkey hung about the remote spot which had been indicated: and at last, on the third evening, as he was entering the village of Benocaz, a goatherd said, "At the well beyond the village you will find a woman in black who will direct you to those you seek." He pa.s.sed along the line of white _casitas_ which form the only street of Benocaz, and by the old Moorish draw-well beyond sat a woman in black. As directed by the goatherd, he addressed her, "_Que hora es?_" and the reply, "_Las doce_," was what he had been told to expect. The woman at once struck over into the hills till she reached a well-worn track and directed Diego to follow this till accosted by a shepherd. He did as he was bidden and after two hours' rough riding over the dark hill, heard the same words, "_Que hora es?_" "_Las doce_," he replied, and was piloted by this new guide to a cavern, in which, to his intense joy, he found his young master, alive and well. The money was at once paid over, and though at first the brigands refused to release their captive on the ground that only half the stipulated sum had been brought, yet suspense did not last long, for during the night a messenger from Vizco arrived, announcing the due payment of the other half, and instructing the robbers at once to set free their prisoners, and to place them on a road which they would know.

And on the following evening, after a captivity of fifteen days, Pedro rode once more into the city of Jerez.

Since the above was written Vizco el Borje has died--died as a robber-chieftain should die, by the rifle-ball. Several times, towards the end, his life was only saved by his magnificent pluck and resource.

But at last, while campaigning in the Sierra Morena, not far from Cordova, his whereabouts became known to the authorities--presumably through treachery--and after a series of desperate deeds of bravery, the bold brigand was finally surrounded, all retreat cut off, and Vizco el Borje fell with five bullets in his body.

We now give a brief history of a robber of the other type--and, incidentally, of the vagaries of judicial justice in Spain.

II.--AGUA-DULCE.

Agua-Dulce lacked the character of the n.o.ble brigand; but was so successful in a long course of perpetual petty robberies, and in invariably escaping justice when caught, that he had become a terror to the neighbourhood of Jerez. To the simple folk whose duties took them to the sequestered farmsteads or along the lonely _veredas_, or bridle-tracks, leading towards the sierras, there appeared to be something "uncanny" about this _raterillo_. Agua-Dulce was one of those men who acquire much fame without having done anything to justify it. As a robber, he was of the meaner sort, fertile in resource in planning his small crimes, and relying more on effrontery than bravery to avoid capture. His victims were almost exclusively poor charcoal-burners, or _arrieros_ returning from the town with their hard-earned gains--three or four to twenty dollars, received for weeks of toilsome labour--the very cla.s.s whom Vizco el Borje subsidized, and by judicious generosity made subservient to his more exalted schemes. Thus the very men who, _nolens volens_, became allies and satellites of Vizco, were Agua-Dulce's habitual victims and bitterest enemies.

It is from the lips of Antonio Sanchez, formerly of the Munic.i.p.al Guard of Jerez de la Frontera, and now retired on pension, that we have the following account of the career and death of the miscreant known as Agua-Dulce. Sanchez was, moreover, the man who slew him.

Agua-Dulce was suspected of having various accomplices: his favourite defence was to prove an _alibi_, and his success in throwing the authorities off the scent by this means pointed to combinations which were not visible on the surface. At the hour when the particular robbery with which he was charged had been committed, Agua-Dulce showed that he was in the town and had saluted this or that functionary. And these latter were always ready to support his defence as witnesses. Among other unacknowledged alliances, Agua-Dulce was reputed to enjoy the protection of a certain magistrate of influential position in Seville, who was stated to be on terms of intimacy with his sister, a woman of remarkable beauty.

The following occurrence, which refers to, perhaps, the only robbery of magnitude carried out by Agua-Dulce, was cited by Sanchez in proof of the above report. A sum representing nearly six hundred pounds, all, curiously enough, in the smallest gold coin, had been taken from Don Juan Malvido of Jerez. A few days later, Agua-Dulce was discovered in a wine-shop of the Calle Cruz Vieja, dividing with two other men a large quant.i.ty of these same small gold coins. He was arrested and imprisoned.

The judge at that time was one Alvarez, who was, however, absent from his post on account of illness; the interim authority being Don Juan Cerron, a man of upright and intrepid principle, who believed that now sufficient evidence was forthcoming to bring home to the villain his crime, and secure at length the condign punishment he had so often deserved. When the prisoner was asked to explain how he became possessed of so much small gold, he replied it was the proceeds of a certain business he had just effected in Seville. For the purpose of ascertaining the truth of this, the judge commissioned an inquiry (_puso un exhorto_) to be made at Seville. The reply was a demand for the prisoner's presence in that city--doubtless to learn from Agua-Dulce's lips how the _exhorto_ could be answered favourably to his cause!

The Jerez deputy-judge roundly refused to allow this. Then it was that the invalid judge was ordered--no matter what the state of his health--to return at once to his post. Though seriously ill, he complied with the request, and next morning from the Magisterial chair ruled that Agua-Dulce should be sent to Seville. A few days later the reply to the _exhorto_ arrived--in terms entirely favourable to the prisoner, and no doubt inspired by him. No charge could now be sustained. The papers were sealed up, and Agua-Dulce once more set at liberty, the small gold coins, which every one was morally certain had proceeded from the Malvido robbery, being returned to him.

For some years after this Agua-Dulce continued his course of petty robbery and outrage without especial incident, but with increasing audacity and immunity. Of a lady named Varela he had demanded three thousand dollars under threat of destroying the valuable stock of mares upon her farm of Vicos. Of Don Antonio Diaz, of Paterna, he had requisitioned a thousand dollars under similar terms: and a large number of donkeys belonging to Don Jose Calero, also of Paterna, who had refused his extortions, were found with their throats cut. Lastly, from a farm-steward at Romanina he had taken a small sum of money, his gun, and cartridge-belt. The authorities in this last (minor) case had clear evidence against Agua-Dulce and were keenly on his track.

The crimes of the miscreant (all these having occurred within a few days) were thus a.s.suming alarming proportions, and two amongst the Munic.i.p.al Guard of Jerez swore they would put an end to him. On the 23rd of May these two, Antonio Sanchez and Jose Salado, were returning towards Jerez after several days of fruitless search, when, pa.s.sing the ford of the Alamillo (a preserve belonging to the Duke of San Lorenzo), a woman informed them that Agua-Dulce had been at work only an hour or two before, and had taken all he possessed from a poor _carb.o.n.e.ro_. This decided them to remain in the neighbourhood, and shortly afterwards, while riding through the coverts of El Espinar, they observed two men, armed with guns, running between the trees.

The mounted guards gave chase, overhauled the men, and demanded their surrender. The reply was prompt--a couple of shots: meeting the simultaneous fire of the guards. No sooner, however, had the latter fired than Salado fell dead from his horse, for Agua-Dulce's bullet had gone true. Sanchez leaped from his saddle and, seeing that one robber was done for, went for the other, whom he now recognized as Agua-Dulce.

A hand-to-hand struggle was imminent, but the bandit availed himself of the thick lentisk-covert, and contrived to put some distance between himself and his a.s.sailant. Both knew it was a duel to the death. Second shots were exchanged, and this time Agua-Dulce was wounded. Sanchez again called on him to surrender, but again the reply was a bullet, which narrowly missed a vital spot. A second ball now struck the robber in the side, bringing him to the ground. While Sanchez reloaded, the wounded desperado managed again to rise to his feet and drew a pistol from his belt: but he was just not quick enough, and ere he could aim, a bullet from Sanchez's barrel had perforated him from chest to shoulder.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER XI.

THE SPANISH IBEX.

NOTES ON ITS NATURAL HISTORY, HAUNTS, HABITS, AND DISTRIBUTION.