The port, however, is at a considerable distance from the town, and is shallow and incommodious.The whole country in the neighbourhood of Pontevedra is inconceivably delicious, abounding with fruits of every description, especially grapes, which in the proper season are seen hanging from the "parras"in luscious luxuriance.An old Andalusian author has said that it produces as many oranges and citron trees as the neighbourhood of Cordova.Its oranges are, however, by no means good, and cannot compete with those of Andalusia.The Pontevedrians boast that their land produces two crops every year, and that whilst they are gathering in one they may be seen ploughing and sowing another.They may well be proud of their country, which is certainly a highly favoured spot.
The town itself is in a state of great decay, and notwithstanding the magnificence of its public edifices, we found more than the usual amount of Galician filth and misery.
The posada was one of the most wretched description, and to mend the matter, the hostess was a most intolerable scold and shrew.Antonio having found fault with the quality of some provision which she produced, she cursed him most immoderately in the country language, which was the only one she spoke, and threatened, if he attempted to breed any disturbance in her house, to turn the horses, himself, and his master forthwith out of doors.Socrates himself, however, could not have conducted himself on this occasion with greater forbearance than Antonio, who shrugged his shoulders, muttered something in Greek, and then was silent.
"Where does the notary public live?" I demanded.Now the notary public vended books, and to this personage I was recommended by my friend at Saint James.A boy conducted me to the house of Senor Garcia, for such was his name.I found him a brisk, active, talkative little man of forty.He undertook with great alacrity the sale of my Testaments, and in a twinkling sold two to a client who was waiting in the office, and appeared to be from the country.He was an enthusiastic patriot, but of course in a local sense, for he cared for no other country than Pontevedra.
"Those fellows of Vigo," said he, "say their town is a better one than ours, and that it is more deserving to be the capital of this part of Galicia.Did you ever hear such folly?
I tell you what, friend, I should not care if Vigo were burnt, and all the fools and rascals within it.Would you ever think of comparing Vigo with Pontevedra?""I don't know," I replied; "I have never been at Vigo, but I have heard say that the bay of Vigo is the finest in the world.""Bay! my good sir.Bay! yes, the rascals have a bay, and it is that bay of theirs which has robbed us all our commerce.
But what needs the capital of a district with a bay? It is public edifices that it wants, where the provincial deputies can meet to transact their business; now, so far from there being a commodious public edifice, there is not a decent house in all Vigo.Bay! yes, they have a bay, but have they water fit to drink? Have they a fountain? Yes, they have, and the water is so brackish that it would burst the stomach of a horse.I hope, my dear sir, that you have not come all this distance to take the part of such a gang of pirates as those of Vigo.""I am not come to take their part," I replied; "indeed, Iwas not aware that they wanted my assistance in this dispute.
I am merely carrying to them the New Testament, of which they evidently stand in much need, if they are such knaves and scoundrels as you represent them.""Represent them, my dear sir.Does not the matter speak for itself? Do they not say that their town is better than ours, more fit to be the capital of a district, QUE DISPARATE!
QUE BRIBONERIA! (what folly! what rascality!)""Is there a bookseller's shop at Vigo?" I inquired.
"There was one," he replied, "kept by an insane barber.
I am glad, for your sake, that it is broken up, and the fellow vanished; he would have played you one of two tricks; he would either have cut your throat with his razor, under pretence of shaving you, or have taken your books and never have accounted to you for the proceeds.Bay! I never could see what right such an owl's nest as Vigo has to a bay."No person could exhibit greater kindness to another, than did the notary public to myself, as soon as I had convinced him that I had no intention of siding with the men of Vigo against Pontevedra.It was now six o'clock in the evening, and he forthwith conducted me to a confectioner's shop, where he treated me with an iced cream and a small cup of chocolate.
From hence we walked about the city, the notary showing the various edifices, especially, the Convent of the Jesuits: "See that front," said he, "what do you think of it?"I expressed to him the admiration which I really felt, and by so doing entirely won the good notary's heart: "Isuppose there is nothing like that at Vigo?" said I.He looked at me for a moment, winked, gave a short triumphant chuckle, and then proceeded on his way, walking at a tremendous rate.
The Senor Garcia was dressed in all respects as an English notary might be: he wore a white hat, brown frock coat, drab breeches buttoned at the knees, white stockings, and well blacked shoes.But I never saw an English notary walk so fast:
it could scarcely be called walking: it seemed more like a succession of galvanic leaps and bounds.I found it impossible to keep up with him: "Where are you conducting me?" I at last demanded, quite breathless.