The Fortunate Isles Part 35

On the s.h.i.+ps in the harbour flags were flying. Everybody was in gala dress. The very air felt gay. And as we sat on one of the stone seats in the leafy Alameda and watched the people streaming into town from the broad white roads that lead to San Antonio, Santa Eulalia and other villages, we chirruped with irrepressible delight, so unexpectedly and deliciously quaint were the figures that pa.s.sed before us.

Some of the women rode mules, and sat perched high on a pile of sheepskins, their multi-coloured petticoats billowing about their neat ankles. Others were packed closely into open carts that had cus.h.i.+ons placed low on either side of their sagging floor-matting.

Many walked, accompanied by vigilant elderly relatives. And oh! how demure and decorous they all looked, with their dark hair parted in the middle and severely plastered down the sides of their rosy young faces.

An object of fervent admiration in my childhood was a pincus.h.i.+on made of a little china doll, whose placid head and insignificant body appeared from a widely distended skirt. And on this brilliant Sunday morning the Ivizan women and girls in their exaggerated skirts seemed to me like a procession of walking dolls.

The dresses appeared to be fas.h.i.+oned from any material that boasted a pattern, for the Ivizan detests a plain material. Even the velvet or plush used in the men's clothes was in many instances flowered or striped. The short broad ap.r.o.ns were of bright-coloured silk elaborately tucked above the hem. Their deeply fringed shawls and head wraps were bordered with wreaths of gaily tinted flowers. The chains of big oblong gold beads and elaborate gold pendants in the form of crosses and crowns gave a blatant and contradictory note to the staid costume, while the gaudy hue of the ribbon that tied the end of the pigtail and fell in long ends nearly to the hem of the skirt suggested a hint of the original Eve lurking behind all this apparent demureness. Gold b.u.t.tons closely set ran from the wrist of the long sleeve, which was often of green, to the elbow. And the white sandalled shoes, whose toes were caught up by a cord bound round the ankles, had a suggestion of sabots that added a Dutch touch to the picture.

Sometimes a mother in sober garments or a smiling father in a wide hat marched past in proud chaperonage of a diffident young daughter rigged out in all the family jewellery. One girl, who enjoyed the personal care of her mother, wore a gown of old rose-spotted brocade looped up in pannier form to show a pink petticoat.

To our thinking the extreme of quaintness was reached in the person of a little maid of seven or eight, whose dress was a travesty of that of her widowed mother; with the sole difference that, while the mother's mourning garb was of unrelieved black, the kerchief and tiny shawl of the child had bordering wreaths of white flowers. As she walked slowly by, a tiny ent.i.ty in over-voluminous garments, the Man declared that, despite her superhuman sobriety, and the "papa, prunes, prisms" expression of her infant lips, he felt convinced that it was with difficulty she resisted a desire to skip!

They say there are ten men for every woman on the island, and our experience of that Sunday morning inclined us to believe it. From every direction came fine strapping lads moving in droves. A distinct resemblance in the dress, taken in combination with the rakish dare-devil air with which these young bloods set their wide hats to one side and swaggered along, vividly suggested the Mexican cowboy.

In striking contrast to the expansive attire of the women, the men's dress appeared designed to accentuate their natural slimness. The trousers of velvet or plush in all manner of rich shades fitted closely to the figure except at the ankle, where they spread widely.

Gaily hued s.h.i.+rts or short full blouse jackets, usually black or blue, were worn. Red or striped sashes were wound about their waists. Most of the hats were large and adorned with gold cords. And in addition to one necktie for use, it was customary to add a second and sometimes even a third for show.

We were sincerely sorry to find that nine o'clock, the hour when we were due at the hotel for coffee, had rushed upon us. When we came out again on our way to visit the Museum, the streets about the market were busy with a moving throng resplendent in colour.

For the moment the girls appeared to have got rid of their chaperons and were parading about in quartettes, s.e.xtettes, even septettes, their tightly pleated pigtails streaming stiffly behind, their hands, holding pocket-handkerchiefs heavily edged with substantial crochet lace, sedately crossed in front.

One group that particularly rejoiced the artistic soul of the Man was made up of four demure damsels who walked in a row, the tallest at one end, the others decreasing in height till the row ended in a dear dot. Their outlines were so much alike that they had the effect of having been stencilled in a diminis.h.i.+ng scale.

It was perhaps only to be expected that wherever one saw a bevy of girls a corresponding cl.u.s.ter of men would not be far distant. Yet we rarely saw them address each other.

The modern etiquette of peasant courts.h.i.+p in Iviza runs on strict though simple lines. A plenitude of suitors being a.s.sured, it is the maiden who makes the selection. The admirers of a marriageable girl wait for her outside the church door on Sunday. When she leaves Ma.s.s the one who has the premier claim attaches himself to her, and trots beside her for the first portion of the homeward journey, then at a fixed point or within a stated time-limit he gives place to the second, and so on until the number is exhausted. If any man seeks to exceed his allotted s.p.a.ce, or in any other way tries to transgress the unwritten law, pistols may flare and knives are apt to spring!

Apart from this the people of Iviza are peaceable, and on all points moral and virtuous. It must be admitted that certain of the more frolicsome spirits still keep up the old custom of saluting the maidens of their choice with a charge of rock salt fired at the ankles. And it is devoutly to be hoped that the unwieldy ma.s.ses of petticoats serve at least one useful purpose by s.h.i.+elding their wearers from the saline missiles of love's artillery.

When we had reached the Cathedral square, where the Museum is situated, we found the door open and the custodian--in whom we were surprised to recognize one of our fellow-guests at the _fonda_--waiting to receive us.

Though the Museum at Iviza has been in existence for little more than two years it already contains a notable collection of Phoenician, Roman, Byzantine and Moorish remains. To an archaeologist, inspection of the contents would have been a special treat. Even to us who had little knowledge of the subject it was intensely interesting.

Within the centre cases and in the gla.s.s-doored cupboards that line the walls were many things whose worth we could not venture to guess. The varied a.s.sortment of coins seemed especially valuable.

One jar found during the process of excavation had contained over six hundred specimens.

Among the other exhibits were several primitive bas-relief figures with abruptly out-jutting hands, resembling those we had seen on the previous day. Two figures had the hands clasped on the bust over something suggesting a loaf, and one had a ring through the nose.

Many of the vases and slender vials from the tombs were beautiful, both in outline and in decoration. And we saw a particularly fine scarab that had been found in one of the stone coffins immediately after our visit to the catacombs on the previous afternoon.

In the second room were some curious old doc.u.ments and certain of the more bulky exhibits. And from a top shelf a row of skulls of these bygone races grinned down upon us creatures of to-day, as though their owners found something ludicrous in the idea of a special house being set apart in which to guard as treasures what to them had been but everyday possessions.

When we left the Museum the padre, with kindly thought and subtle intuition of what is most likely to interest the stranger in a foreign land, took us a-visiting. First he introduced us to the only professional artist on the island, who like everybody else in the place seemed a special friend of our sponsor.

And in the artist of this far-off southern islet we rejoiced to meet the romantic painter of fiction--the picturesque hero one reads about but rarely has the good fortune to encounter.

Don Narciso--his very name was in keeping--was young, buoyant of spirit, charming in manner, and enthusiastic regarding art. He had a thick curly black beard, abundant wavy black hair. He wore a becoming blouse, and his loosely knotted silk tie was of _amarilla_ silk.

The painter welcomed us cordially, and took us into his studio, where he was at work upon a full-length portrait of a bishop who had been a native of the island.

Round the walls were brilliant studies both in figure and landscape.

We had been living close to Nature for six months. It was a pleasure to breathe again the studio atmosphere. In less than two minutes the three artists were deep in discussion of kindred interests. Their nationalities might be different, but Art has only one language.

Names--Velasquez, Goya, and others of more recent date--were bandied between them, the while the padre and I sat dumbly attentive.

When we were leaving, Narciso took us into the artistically unkempt garden attached to the studio, and from the line of orange-trees beyond the old well plucked a spray heavy with the luscious blossom.

This he presented to me with a grace that dignified the sprig into a bouquet. And we all parted with promise of an early reunion.

A few yards farther down the road we pa.s.sed a group of ladies, whose smart Paris hats and modern raiment, seen in that land of quaint attire, gave the wearers an oddly foreign look.

"Son la familia Wallis," murmured the padre, as he raised his hat to them.

The house of the padre, our next place of call, was just beyond the seminary where the students whom we had seen leaving the Cathedral in their robes of black and scarlet were undergoing their thirteen years of probation before entering the Church.

The padre's home in all its appointments impressed us as being exactly suited to the quiet refinement of its master. From the windows one gained a superb view of the rippling waters of the landlocked harbour and of the undulating country beyond.

We had the honour of meeting the padre's mother, a lady who, though shrunk a little by weight of years, was still hale and bright. And his sister, the widow of a distinguished officer. And his niece, who was so vivacious and charming, that when she waved to us from her balcony as we left we wondered if the _novio_ who was standing in the street, whispering love up to a maiden in a mantilla on the balcony just beneath hers, had not made the mistake of a floor!

It was evidently the feast-day of one of our fellow-guests at the hotel, for at the close of the midday meal a tray of dainty Spanish sweetmeats in frilled paper cases was pa.s.sed round--being handed, evidently by special instructions, to us also.

When we had helped ourselves we bowed indecisively towards the farther end of the table, saying vaguely--in the hope that our grat.i.tude might reach the donor--"Muchos gracias, senor." The other senores were quick to indicate the benefactor, who flushed a little as he acknowledged our thanks.

While lunch was being served a dark silent young man, who was one of the regular company, several times left his place, and from our seats at table we saw him go to the open front door of the hotel and glance up and down the street, as though on the look-out for somebody. Seeing him return alone for the third time, we whispered hints of a dilatory sweetheart.

But when the eagerly expected guest did appear it was not some graceful dona, but a little baby girl, the sleeves of her white frock tied with black ribbon, who was carried in in the arms of a stout peasant nurse. As the padre told us later, our taciturn fellow-guest was the postmaster, who had lost his young wife, and this was their babe come to pay the bereaved father her weekly visit.

When we went out in the afternoon the townsfolk were promenading under the shade of the Alameda, but the _payeses_ had all vanished--gone back to the rural homes whither we would like to have followed them. With the disappearance of the quaint figures the charm seemed to have vanished, and when we met our new friend the sacristan we cajoled him into going for a stroll along the watercourses that intersect the reclaimed land beyond the harbour.

These are a curious feature of a delightfully curious country. On either side of the raised centre path were broad ditches full of clear water, whose yellow sand was speckled with black sh.e.l.l-fish.

Shoals of little fish darted in and out among the rushes, and on every patch of floating weed a tiny frog sat and croaked.

The fertile ground on either side of the ditches was divided into small holdings, or _feixas_ as they are locally called. And there mixed crops of fruit and vegetables flourished abundantly. Vines trained to trellises bordered the water, and at frequent intervals tall whitewashed gateways, reached by little bridges and quite unsupported by walls, reared their gleaming bulk with something of the self-conscious air that might be attributed to whited sepulchres. As in Majorca, the small agriculturists appeared to live in the towns. There were no dwellings on the _feixas_, though a few had sheds from which issued the grunts of unseen animals.

The evening glow was on the hills when we left the watercourses and followed a track that led between fields of full-bearded rye dotted with blood-red poppies towards a picturesque white-walled _noria_.

In the shadow of the trees close by the old Moorish well, which was encircled by a trellised vine, sat the farm folk enjoying the rest of the Sabbath. A guest in a mantilla was with them.

So far from resenting our intrusion they welcomed it. Seeing that we were interested in the working of the _noria_, the farmer ran forward and, seizing the long wooden donkey shaft, set the wheel revolving, and made the circle of buckets (which were not fas.h.i.+oned of earthenware as in Majorca, but formed from lengths of hollowed pine stem--a peseta each they cost, he told us) discharge their contents for our benefit, the primitive machinery, which made laudable objection to Sunday labour, protesting the while with groans and squeaks.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Gates of the _Feixas_, Iviza]

His wife--who had received us with friendly looks and kindly greeting in the Ivizan dialect, that, while greatly resembling Majorcan, omits the harsher sounds, hastened further to reveal her good will by picking me the few blossoms within reach. Even the townified guest in the mantilla added a genial word of greeting.

Yes, the Majorcans had spoken truly when they said the people of the sister isle were courteous to strangers.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Church of San Antonio, Iviza]

XXVII