chapter 27 - The Bible in Spain

CHAPTER 27
Compostella - Rey Romero - The Treasure-seeker - Hopeful Project - The Church
of Refuge - Hidden Riches - The Canon - Spirit of Localism - The Leper - Bones of
St. James.
At the commencement of August, I found myself at St. James of Compostella.1 To this
place I travelled from Coruna with the courier or weekly post, who was escorted by a
strong party of soldiers, in consequence of the distracted state of the country, which was
overrun with banditti. From Coruna to St. James, the distance is but ten leagues; the
journey, however, endured for a day and a half. It was a pleasant one, through a most
beautiful country, with a rich variety of hill and dale; the road was in many places
shaded with various kinds of trees clad in most luxuriant foliage. Hundreds of travellers,
both on foot and on horseback, availed themselves of the security which the escort
afforded: the dread of banditti was strong. During the journey two or three alarms were
given; we, however, reached Saint James without having been attacked.
27.1 Santiago de Compostela from the west
with the Pico Sacro (Borrow’s ‘conical hill’) behind
1
The mail coach service between Coruña and Santiago was a relatively new enterprise in 1837,
and its timetables changed often. In 1838 it usually ran twice weekly on Monday and Thursday,
although from time to time it seems to have left Coruña on the Tuesday. The best we may say is
that Borrow probably arrived in Compostela on Tuesday August 8 or Wednesday August 9.
Below, he mentions that the journey took a day and a half; which leads us to think that he may
have slept in the village of Sigüeiro, near the bridge over the Tambre river some 15 km from
Santiago, since this was the last place where – as late as 1849 - an inn might be found [Madoz,
DG, vol. 13, 822]. The young Cuban poet Gertrudis Gómez de Avellaneda took the same
diligence in late March 1838. Her stagecoach also had an armed escort, left Coruña at 3 or 4 in
the morning, and took a mere 13 hours to reach Santiago. Six years later, however, Widdrington
[vol. 2, 174] described the same route as utterly boring and uneventful.
George Borrow: The Bible In Spain (Gabicote Edition)
Saint James stands on a pleasant level amidst mountains: the most extraordinary of
these is a conical hill, called the Pico Sacro, or Sacred Peak, connected with which are
many wonderful legends. A beautiful old town is Saint James, containing about twenty
thousand inhabitants. Time has been when, with the single exception of Rome, it was
the most celebrated resort of pilgrims in the world; its cathedral being said to contain
the bones of Saint James the elder, the child of the thunder, who, according to the
legend of the Romish church, first preached the Gospel in Spain2. Its glory, however, as
a place of pilgrimage is rapidly passing away.3
27.2 The Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela
2
Predictably, the medieval founding legend of the Santiago cathedral, coming to us from 1,000
years ago, is a somewhat confused affair. It runs more or less as follows: at the division of the
world among the Apostles, the Iberian Peninsula was allotted to Saint James the Elder. He
travelled to Spain, preached and converted the local pagans, and then returned to Jerusalem just
in time to be decapitated by king Herod Agrippa II in A.D. 42. His disciples put his corpse in a
stone boat, which by its own propulsion sailed to Padron in Galicia (see next chapter). The
corpse was then put into a miraculous ox-cart, which moved him to the spot of Santiago. Here
he was buried, the tomb soon to be forgotten, until - 100 years after the Arab conquest of Spain
in 711 A.D. - a hermit or shepherd saw a miraculous light hovering above it, and notified the
local bishop. The corpse was duly discovered, the miracle recognized, and a small basilica
erected. This was soon replaced by a noble cathedral, consecrated in 899 and destroyed by the
Arabs under Almanzur in 997. In the 11th and 12th centuries, Santiago was the greatest Christian
pilgrimage place after Rome and Jerusalem.
3
At the time of Borrow’s visit the number of pilgrims was at its lowest ebb ever. Foreign
pilgrims were stopped from proceeding because the famous Camino de Santiago led through
Navarra and the Basque countries, where the worst of the Carlist Civil War was raging. Local
pilgrims, meanwhile, were discouraged by the Carlist guerrilleros who infested the whole
Galician countryside. The books of the Great Hospital of Santiago, which lodged such pilgrims
as there were, record only a few dozen pilgrims a year at this time, all of whom came from the
neighbourhood. [Missler, Treasure Hunter, chapter 12.]
Chapter 27
The cathedral, though a work of various periods, and exhibiting various styles of
architecture, is a majestic venerable pile, in every respect calculated to excite awe and
admiration; indeed, it is almost impossible to walk its long dusky aisles, and hear the
solemn music and the noble chanting, and inhale the incense of the mighty censers,
which are at times swung so high by machinery as to smite the vaulted roof4, whilst
gigantic tapers glitter here and there amongst the gloom, from the shrine of many a
saint, before which the worshippers are kneeling, breathing forth their prayers and
petitions for help, love, and mercy, and entertain a doubt that we are treading the floor
of a house where God delighteth to dwell. Yet the Lord is distant from that house; he
hears not, he sees not, or if he do, it is with anger. What availeth that solemn music, that
noble chanting, that incense of sweet savour? What availeth kneeling before that grand
altar of silver, surmounted by that figure with its silver hat and breast-plate, the emblem
of one who, though an apostle and confessor, was at best an unprofitable servant? What
availeth hoping for remission of sin by trusting in the merits of one who possessed
none, or by paying homage to others who were born and nurtured in sin, and who alone,
by the exercise of a lively faith granted from above, could hope to preserve themselves
from the wrath of the Almighty?
[From: letter to Brandram from Santiago of 19 August 1837, in: Darlow, 246f]
Yet such acts and formalities constitute what is termed religion at Compostella,
where, perhaps, God and His will are less known and respected than at Pekin or amid
the wildernesses where graze the coursers of the Mongol and the Mandchou. Perhaps
there is no part of Spain where the Romish religion is so cherished as throughout
Galicia. In no part of Spain are the precepts and ordinances of that Church, especially
fasting and confession, so strictly observed, and its ministers regarded with so much
respect and deference. The natural conclusion therefore would be that, if the religion
of Rome be the same as that founded by Christ, the example of the Saviour is more
closely followed, and the savage and furious passions more bridled, bloodshed and
rapine less frequent, unchastity and intemperance less apparent, and the minds of the
people more enlightened and free from the mists of superstition in Galicia than in
other provinces.
What is the fact? Almost every road is teeming with banditti, who under the name of
Carlists plunder friend and foe, and to robbery join cruelty so atrociously horrible
that indignation at the crime is frequently lost in wonder; for the Galician robbers are
seldom satisfied with booty, and unlike their brethren in other parts generally
mutilate or assassinate those who are so unfortunate as to fall in their hands;
prostitution is carried on to an enormous extent, and although loathsome concustant
[sic] diseases stare the stranger in the face in the street, in the market-place, in the
church, and at the fountain; 'Drunken as a Galician' is a proverb; and superstitions
forgotten, abandoned in the rest of Spain, are clung to here with surprising
pertinacity, the clergy exerting themselves to uphold them by carrying on a very
extensive sale in charms, verifying the old saying, 'Witches are found where friars
abound.'
4
The so-called Botafumeiro. This spectacular swinging of a man-sized silver censor still
constitutes the most dramatic part of every solemn mass said in the Santiago Cathedral.
George Borrow: The Bible In Spain (Gabicote Edition)
An unhappy man, whilst collecting vipers amongst the hills, which he was in the
practice of selling to the apothecaries, was lately met near Orense by some of these
monsters. Having plundered and stripped him, they tied his hands behind him and
thrust his head into the sack, which contained several of these horrible reptiles alive!
They then fastened the sack at the mouth round his neck, and having feasted their
ears for a time with his cries, they abandoned him to his fate. The poor wretch, stung
by the vipers in the face and eyes, presently became mad and ran through several
villages, till he fell dead.5
I am now in the heart of this strange country and people. It has pleased the Lord to
bless my humble endeavours more than I had reason to expect; since my arrival
Santiago between thirty and forty copies of the New Testament have been despatched.
[Chapter 27 continued]
Rise from your knees, ye children of Compostella, or if ye bend, let it be to the
Almighty alone, and no longer on the eve of your patron's day address him in the
following strain, however sublime it may sound:
"Thou shield of that faith which in Spain we revere,
Thou scourge of each foeman who dares to draw near;
Whom the Son of that God who the elements tames,
Called child of the thunder, immortal Saint James!
"From the blessed asylum of glory intense,
Upon us thy sovereign influence dispense;
And list to the praises our gratitude aims
To offer up worthily, mighty Saint James.
"To thee fervent thanks Spain shall ever outpour;
In thy name though she glory, she glories yet more
In thy thrice-hallowed corse, which the sanctuary claims
Of high Compostella, O, blessed Saint James.
"When heathen impiety, loathsome and dread,
With a chaos of darkness our Spain overspread,
Thou wast the first light which dispell'd with its flames
The hell-born obscurity, glorious Saint James!
"And when terrible wars had nigh wasted our force,
All bright `midst the battle we saw thee on horse,
Fierce scattering the hosts, whom their fury proclaims
To be warriors of Islam, victorious Saint James.
5
Strangely, this impressive story, which Borrow must have picked up in the liberal press or
heard in the Santiago streets, was left out of the final text of The Bible in Spain; this despite the
fact that Richard Ford referred to it explicitly in his favourable report to Murray (its publisher)
on the manuscript of the work [Jenkins, 203, footnote 1].
Chapter 27
"Beneath thy direction, stretch'd prone at thy feet,
With hearts low and humble, this day we intreat
Thou wilt strengthen the hope which enlivens our frames,
The hope of thy favour and presence, Saint James.
"Then praise to the Son and the Father above,
And to that Holy Spirit which springs from their love;
To that bright emanation whose vividness shames
The sun's burst of splendour, and praise to Saint James."
At Saint James I met with a kind and cordial coadjutor in my biblical labours in the
bookseller of the place, Rey Romero, a man of about sixty.6 This excellent individual,
who was both wealthy and respected, took up the matter with an enthusiasm which
doubtless emanated from on high, losing no opportunity of recommending my book to
those who entered his shop, which was in the Azabacheria, and was a very splendid and
commodious establishment. In many instances, when the peasants of the neighbourhood
came with an intention of purchasing some of the foolish popular story-books of Spain,
he persuaded them to carry home Testaments instead, assuring them that the sacred
volume was a better, more instructive, and even far more entertaining book than those
they came in quest of.7 He speedily conceived a great fancy for me, and regularly came
6
Francisco Jorge Angel Rey Romero, 23 April 1775 – 5 May 1848, second son of Cayetano
Rey do Couto and Maria Romero Reira, and father of the well-known printer Juan Nepomuceno
Rey Romero Alcocer. The business was set up early in the century by Francisco’s younger
brother Pedro (who also started one of the first Galician newspapers, the Diario de Santiago, at
the outbreak of the Peninsular War, in the summer of 1808.) Pedro died in 1813, which inspired
Francisco, who had recently become a widower, to return to Santiago from Madrid, where he
had settled some time in the 1790s. The bookshop opened in November 1813 in the Calle de
Azabacheria 16 and 17 (today’s 17 and 19), one of the most fashionable mercantile streets of
Santiago [Madoz, DG, vol. 13, 816]. Despite Borrow’s praise and enthusiasm, Rey Romero was
not a good enough businessman to survive several civil wars and economic slumps. When he
died in May 1848, the business was bankrupt and had to be sold off in order to pay the creditors.
It survived for a short while as the Libreria Minerva, but disappeared before 1850. [Missler,
‘The most considerable of them all: Rey Romero, Borrow’s bookseller in Santiago’, in: GBB 16,
32-45; Missler, ‘Rey Romero’s Testaments’, in: GBB 28, 22-37.]
7
This remark of Borrow’s has often been dismissed as fiction and propaganda, since so few
peasants could read at this time. Rates of literacy for the whole of the Spanish population stood
at a dismal 5.6 % in 1803, and 15 % in 1860s. It should however be kept in mind that only those
who could both read and write were considered ‘literate’ by such inquests, and that the rate of
passive literacy was considerably higher. Furthermore there was an old and widespread tradition
of ‘collective reading’, in which the most literate person of a group would read out loud from a
printed text for the benefit of the whole community. (See for instance the Spanish smuggler in
chapter 3 above.) Hence it is not unthinkable that Rey Romero did indeed sell some copies of
Borrow’s New Testament to the local peasantry. Between Borrow’s visit to Santiago in August
1837 and the final prohibition of the work in May 1838, some 100 copies of the book were sold
in Santiago and its surroundings. [Missler, Daring Game, 75-81 on popular literacy, and 48-51
for sales of the New Testament in Compostela.]
George Borrow: The Bible In Spain (Gabicote Edition)
to visit me every evening at my posada,8 and accompanied me in my walks about the
town and the environs. He was a man of considerable information, and though of much
simplicity, possessed a kind of good-natured humour which was frequently highly
diverting.
27.3 The spot of Rey Romero’s bookshop, today a pair of wine and cheese boutiques
[From: ‘Account of the Proceedings in the Peninsula’ of October 1838: Darlow 364]
I twice sallied forth one morning alone and on horseback, and proceeded to a distant
village, bearing behind me a satchel of books. On my arrival, which took place just
after the SIESTA or afternoon's sleep had concluded, I proceeded in both instances
to the market-place, where I spread a horse-cloth on the ground, on which I
deposited my books. I then commenced crying with a loud voice: 'Peasants, peasants,
I bring you the Word of God at a cheap price. I know you have but little money, but I
bring it to you at whatever you can command, at four or three REALS according to
your means.' I thus went on till a crowd gathered round me, who examined the book
with attention, many of them reading it aloud. But I had not long to tarry; in both
instances I disposed of my cargo almost instantaneously, and then mounted my horse
without a question having been asked me, and returned to my temporary residence
lighter than I left it. This occurred in Castile and Galicia, near the towns of Santiago
and Valladolid.9
8
We do not know where Borrow boarded while in Santiago. There was not, in 1837, a true first
class hotel of the kind he favoured. His best bet would have been the Parador de Carruejas at
the Puerta de San Roque, where the mail coach from Coruña arrived; the Posada de Martin
Moreno in the Casas Reales; the Estrella Inn mentioned by Carnarvon in 1827; and La Viscaina,
either in the Rua Nova, or in the Calle de San Miguel. However, not all of these may have been in
business in the war-torn summer of 1837.
9
For the significance of this episode, see Missler, Daring Game, 31-36.
Chapter 27
[Chapter 27 continued]
I was walking late one night alone in the Alameda of Saint James, considering in what
direction I should next bend my course, for I had been already ten days in this place; the
moon was shining gloriously, and illumined every object around to a considerable
distance.10 The Alameda was quite deserted; everybody, with the exception of myself,
having for some time retired. I sat down on a bench and continued my reflections,
which were suddenly interrupted by a heavy stumping sound. Turning my eyes in the
direction from which it proceeded, I perceived what at first appeared a shapeless bulk
slowly advancing: nearer and nearer it drew, and I could now distinguish the outline of
a man dressed in coarse brown garments, a kind of Andalusian hat, and using as a staff
the long peeled branch of a tree. He had now arrived opposite the bench where I was
seated, when, stopping, he took off his hat and demanded charity in uncouth tones and
in a strange jargon, which had some resemblance to the Catalan. The moon shone on
grey locks and on a ruddy weather-beaten countenance which I at once recognized:
"Benedict Mol," said I, "is it possible that I see you at Compostella?"
"Och, mein Gott, es ist der Herr!" replied Benedict. "Och, what good fortune, that the
Herr is the first person I meet at Compostella."
27.4 The Alameda of Santiago
10
There was a full moon on 16/17 August 1837. Note, however, that the following meeting with
Benedict Mol is probably fictitious. The sheer coincidence of the two men meeting during the
few days that Borrow spent in Santiago; the dubious chronology of their first meeting in Madrid
(see the footnote to chapter 13); the near certainty that Rey Romero never laid eyes on the
Treasure Hunter (see the footnote to chapter 42); and the fact that many of the following events
are obviously recycled from episodes published in the Eco del Comercio of September 1838, all
speak against this meeting ever having taken place. [Missler, Treasure Hunter, chapters 10-13].
George Borrow: The Bible In Spain (Gabicote Edition)
MYSELF. - I can scarcely believe my eyes. Do you mean to say that you have just
arrived at this place?
BENEDICT. - Ow yes, I am this moment arrived. I have walked all the long way from
Madrid.
MYSELF. - What motive could possibly bring you such a distance?
BENEDICT. - Ow, I am come for the schatz - the treasure. I told you at Madrid that I
was coming; and now I have met you here, I have no doubt that I shall find it, the
schatz.
MYSELF. - In what manner did you support yourself by the way?
BENEDICT. - Ow, I begged, I bettled, and so contrived to pick up some cuartos; and
when I reached Toro, I worked at my trade of soap-making for a time, till the people
said I knew nothing about it, and drove me out of the town. So I went on and begged
and bettled till I arrived at Orense11, which is in this country of Galicia. Ow, I do not
like this country of Galicia at all.
MYSELF. - Why not?
BENEDICT. - Why! because here they all beg and bettle, and have scarce anything for
themselves, much less for me whom they know to be a foreign man. O the misery of
Galicia. When I arrive at night at one of their pigsties, which they call posadas, and ask
for bread to eat in the name of God, and straw to lie down in, they curse me, and say
there is neither bread nor straw in Galicia; and sure enough, since I have been here I
have seen neither, only something that they call broa12, and a kind of reedy rubbish with
which they litter the horses: all my bones are sore since I entered Galicia.
MYSELF. - And yet you have come to this country, which you call so miserable, in
search of treasure?
BENEDICT. - Ow yaw, but the schatz is buried; it is not above ground; there is no
money above ground in Galicia. I must dig it up; and when I have dug it up I will
11
12
The main city in southern Galicia, and the only one of note which Borrow never visited.
Galician maize-bread of the day. Burke [Glossary] proposes ‘barona’ as an alternative
spelling in Portuguese and Galician, and ‘brona’ in Galician and Spanish. Modern Galician
dictionaries prefer ‘boroa’. Most likely, however, Borrow took this spelling from one of the
earliest texts printed in Gallego, the 1836 Tertulia de Picaños (see footnote 25 below), where he
also found the Galician spelling Calros which he uses to refer to the pretender Don Carlos (see
chapter 30 below), and several arguments advanced by the inhabitants of Santiago against their
arch-foe, the Coruñese (see note 25 below). According to Burke [Glossary] broa was made
from a mixture of maize, rye, millet, and panic-grass. That, however, would seem to be the
luxury version. In the poorer areas, broa was famously mixed with things like tree bark during
the worst scarcity of the winter months.
Chapter 27
purchase a coach with six mules, and ride out of Galicia to Lucerne; and if the Herr
pleases to go with me, he shall be welcome to go with me and the schatz.
MYSELF. - I am afraid that you have come on a desperate errand. What do you propose
to do? Have you any money?
BENEDICT. - Not a cuart; but I do not care now I have arrived at Saint James. The
schatz is nigh; and I have, moreover, seen you, which is a good sign; it tells me that the
schatz is still here. I shall go to the best posada in the place, and live like a duke till I
have an opportunity of digging up the schatz, when I will pay all scores.
"Do nothing of the kind," I replied; "find out some place in which to sleep, and
endeavour to seek some employment. In the mean time, here is a trifle with which to
support yourself; but as for the treasure which you have come to seek, I believe it only
exists in your own imagination." I gave him a dollar and departed.
I have never enjoyed more charming walks than in the neighbourhood of Saint James.
In these I was almost invariably accompanied by my friend the good old bookseller. The
streams are numerous, and along their wooded banks we were in the habit of straying
and enjoying the delicious summer evenings of this part of Spain. Religion generally
formed the topic of our conversation, but we not unfrequently talked of the foreign
lands which I had visited, and at other times of matters which related particularly to my
companion. "We booksellers of Spain," said he, "are all liberals; we are no friends to the
monkish system.13 How indeed should we be friends to it? It fosters darkness, whilst we
live by disseminating light. We love our profession, and have all more or less suffered
for it; many of us, in the times of terror, were hanged for selling an innocent translation
from the French or English. Shortly after the Constitution was put down by Angouleme
and the French bayonets,14 I was obliged to flee from Saint James and take refuge in the
wildest part of Galicia, near Corcuvion.15 Had I not possessed good friends, I should not
have been alive now; as it was, it cost me a considerable sum of money to arrange
13
This statement is surely true. Due to the nature of their trade, booksellers landed
automatically in the liberal camp, since the autocratic, conservative forces led by the Church
aimed at curbing literature of nearly every kind. In priestly eyes, the reading of books –
particularly those containing French philosophy, with its iconoclastic, anti-ecclesiastical ideas –
was the most dangerous thing a citizen could engage in. Hence all such books must be
forbidden, and those allowed should be kept firmly behind lock and key. Rotting out forbidden
books in private hands was the priority and main activity of the Spanish Inquisition in the last
100 years before its abolition in 1834.
14
In the spring of 1823 the Holy Alliance (i.e. France, Prussia and Russia) sent into Spain a
large French army known as the ‘100,000 sons of Saint Louis’, led by the Duke of Angoulême,
to end the liberal regime which had been ushered in by the coup of General Rafael Riego in
January 1820, free King Ferdinant VII from captivity and restore him to full absolute power.
15
There is no documentary evidence for Rey Romero’s exile to Corcubión in these years, but he
does figure in a lynching-list of liberals, published La Estafeta newspaper of 6 May 1814, as
one more left-winger who deserved punishment [reproduced in Meijide Pardo, A., Sinforiano
Lopez Alia, Coruña 1995, 94f]. In later years, however, Rey Romero, grown wise, made sure to
be on excellent terms with the Church and conservative politicians. Hence these ultra-liberal
statements he makes so freely sound a little unlikely. He was, in any case, a devout catholic.
George Borrow: The Bible In Spain (Gabicote Edition)
matters. Whilst I was away, my shop was in charge of the ecclesiastical officers. They
frequently told my wife that I ought to be burnt for the books which I had sold. Thanks
be to God, those times are past, and I hope they will never return."
27.5 The church of Santa Maria Salomé
Once, as we were walking through the streets of Saint James, he stopped before a
church and looked at it attentively. As there was nothing remarkable in the appearance
of this edifice, I asked him what motive he had for taking such notice of it. "In the days
of the friars," said he, "this church was one of refuge, to which if the worst criminals
escaped, they were safe. 16 All were protected there save the negros, as they called us
liberals." "Even murderers, I suppose?" said I. "Murderers!" he answered, "far worse
criminals than they. By the by, I have heard that you English entertain the utmost
16
The church of Santa Maria Salomé (the mother of Saint James) in the Rua Nova. Next to the
Cathedral itself, it was one of the few remaining places of refuge after the Santiago Chapter
abolished most such sanctuaries in a 1773 edict. A legend painted on its facade, barely legible
today, reads ‘Iglesia reservada para refugio’. Much to the annoyance of the clergy, this status
was finally stripped from the building by the liberal authorities of the 1830s. Borrow’s remark
that there was ‘nothing remarkable in the appearance of this edifice’ is merely literary rhetoric.
The opposite is the case, for its portico not only sports some most interesting romantic
gargouilles, but also a very rare example of a so-called ‘Virgen de la Leche’, i.e. a statue of the
highly pregnant Virgin Mary, part of a triptych epiphany [Perez Costanti, P., Notas Viejas
Compostelanas, T. III (1927), 85; J. Fernandez Sanchez & F. Freire Barreiro, Guia de Santiago
y sus alrededores, Santiago 1885, 224.]
Chapter 27
abhorrence of murder. Do you in reality consider it a crime of very great magnitude?"
"How should we not," I replied; "for every other crime some reparation can be made;
but if we take away life, we take away all.17 A ray of hope with respect to this world
may occasionally enliven the bosom of any other criminal, but how can the murderer
hope?" "The friars were of another way of thinking," replied the old man; "they always
looked upon murder as a friolera; but not so the crime of marrying your first cousin
without dispensation, for which, if we believe them, there is scarcely any atonement
either in this world or the next." 18
27.6 The ‘Virgen de la Leche’
17
For once, Borrow agreed almost verbally with Count Volney, whom he dispised (compare
chapter 3 and chapter 53). Volney wrote in chapter 4 of his Loi Naturelle: ‘D: Le meurtre d’un
homme est donc un crime dans la loi naturelle? R: Oui: et le plus grand qu’on puisse
commettre; car tout autre mal peut se reparer, mais le meurtre ne se repare point.’ Another
possible instance of Borrow echoing Volney may be found in chapter 33 below.
18
Friolera: a mere trifle. Of course this entire remark is nonsense, and – unless it be some weak
attempt at humour - finds its origins not in anything which Rey Romero said, but in Borrow’s
own Church-bashing attitudes. Even so, it is true that one disagreed with the tenets of the
Church at one’s peril in Santiago. Carnarvon [chapter 6, 144] describes a young man who in
1827 openly criticized the civil authorities, yet trembled at the thought that the authorities might
hear he considered priestly celibacy undesirable… ‘If [they] knew that I had assented to such a
proposition, the lowest and darkest dungeon in the city would not be low and dark enough for
me,’ he assured his English friend.
George Borrow: The Bible In Spain (Gabicote Edition)
Two or three days after this, as we were seated in my apartment in the posada, engaged
in conversation, the door was opened by Antonio, who, with a smile on his
countenance, said that there was a foreign GENTLEMAN below, who desired to speak
with me. "Show him up," I replied; whereupon almost instantly appeared Benedict Mol.
"This is a most extraordinary person," said I to the bookseller. "You Galicians, in
general, leave your country in quest of money; he, on the contrary, is come hither to
find some."19
REY ROMERO. - And he is right. Galicia is by nature the richest province in Spain, but
the inhabitants are very stupid, and know not how to turn the blessings which surround
them to any account; but as a proof of what may be made out of Galicia, see how rich
the Catalans become who have settled down here and formed establishments20. There
are riches all around us, upon the earth and in the earth.
BENEDICT. - Ow yaw, in the earth, that is what I say. There is much more treasure
below the earth than above it.
MYSELF. - Since I last saw you, have you discovered the place in which you say the
treasure is deposited?
BENEDICT. - O yes, I know all about it now. It is buried `neath the sacristy in the
church of San Roque.21
Myself. - How have you been able to make that discovery?
19
As we shall see below, in a letter to Borrow of June 1839 Rey Romero made it perfectly clear
that he had never laid eyes on the treasure hunter (see the footnote to chapter 42). Hence the
following conversation may indeed have taken place between Borrow and the bookseller; but if
so the Swiss was not present.
20
Ever since the early 18th century Catalan entrepreneurs had established factories for the
drying, salting and canning of fish on the Galician coast. Since they applied modern fishery
techniques, cared little about local customs, and bribed their way to grand advantages, they were
deeply hated by the more primitive Galician fishermen. Frequently the Catalan factories were
burned down in uprisings; sometimes also the houses of Catalan businessmen, more often than
not with the Catalans inside; and at least one mayor sea-battle took place in the Ria de Marin
(the firth of Marin) in 1816, which involved amphibious landings from one coast to the other
and fishing boats armed with canon left over from the Peninsular War. Rey Romero’s trusted
brother-in-law José Pou, owner of the diligence line to Coruña and alderman of Santiago, was a
descendant of such a Catalan family.
21
Whether this ‘innovation’ was Mol’s or Borrow’s is uncertain. When the Santiago treasure
hunt finally took place a year later, the Swiss did not dig in the tiny San Roque chapel, but in
the large, adjacent hospital. Note, however, that the first newspaper reports that reached Madrid
likewise spoke of the Swiss planning to dig in the chapel. Therefore this may have been part of
Mol’s own cover story, meant to throw other gold diggers off the track. [Missler, Treasure
Hunter, 107 & chapter 18]
Chapter 27
BENEDICT. - I will tell you: the day after my arrival I walked about all the city in quest
of the church, but could find none which at all answered to the signs which my comrade
who died in the hospital gave me. I entered several, and looked about, but all in vain; I
could not find the place which I had in my mind's eye. At last the people with whom I
lodge, and to whom I told my business, advised me to send for a meiga.
MYSELF. - A meiga! What is that?
BENEDICT. - Ow! a haxweib, a witch; the Gallegos call them so in their jargon, of
which I can scarcely understand a word. So I consented, and they sent for the meiga.
Och! what a weib is that meiga! I never saw such a woman; she is as large as myself,
and has a face as round and red as the sun.22 She asked me a great many questions in her
Gallegan, and when I had told her all she wanted to know, she pulled out a pack of
cards and laid them on the table in a particular manner, and then she said that the
treasure was in the church of San Roque; and sure enough, when I went to that church,
it answered in every respect to the signs of my comrade who died in the hospital. O she
is a powerful hax, that meiga; she is well known in the neighbourhood, and has done
much harm to the cattle. I gave her half the dollar I had from you for her trouble.23
MYSELF. - Then you acted like a simpleton; she has grossly deceived you. But even
suppose that the treasure is really deposited in the church you mention, it is not probable
that you will be permitted to remove the floor of the sacristy to search for it.
BENEDICT. - Ow, the matter is already well advanced. Yesterday I went to one of the
canons to confess myself and to receive absolution and benediction; not that I regard
these things much, but I thought this would be the best means of broaching the matter,
so I confessed myself, and then I spoke of my travels to the canon, and at last I told him
of the treasure, and proposed that if he assisted me we should share it between us24. Ow,
I wish you had seen him; he entered at once into the affair, and said that it might turn
out a very profitable speculation: and he shook me by the hand, and said that I was an
honest Swiss and a good Catholic. And I then proposed that he should take me into his
house and keep me there till we had an opportunity of digging up the treasure together.
This he refused to do.
22
The description of this ‘meiga’ suggests that Borrow never saw one. Galician meixas, as
Galician women in general, rarely stood higher than five feet until the 1990s, and one of six feet
would have made the national news as a supernatural marvel.
23
Like most of Mol’s adventures in the present chapter, this meiga is most probably fictitious,
an embellishment of Borrow’s based on a single remark, published in the Eco del Comercio nº
1,589 of 6 September 1838, in which the Swiss treasure hunter is said to have protested that
everything he had done wrong was the fault of ‘the woman who laid the cards for him in Paris
and misled him’. [Missler, Treasure Hunter, 106, 144 & 192]
24
The Canon in charge of San Roque was Don Ramón Boán. There is no reason to suppose any
involvement of this ecclesiastical worthy in the scandal of Mol’s treasure hunt. The greediness –
and treachery – of this canon is merely a typical part of Borrow’s fictitious anti-Papist universe.
[Missler, Treasure Hunter, 107 & 211]
George Borrow: The Bible In Spain (Gabicote Edition)
REY ROMERO. - Of that I have no doubt: trust one of our canons for not committing
himself so far until he sees very good reason. These tales of treasure are at present
rather too stale: we have heard of them ever since the time of the Moors.
BENEDICT. - He advised me to go to the Captain General and obtain permission to
make excavations, in which case he promised to assist me to the utmost of his power.
Thereupon the Swiss departed, and I neither saw nor heard anything farther of him
during the time that I continued at Saint James.
27.7 The chapel of San Roque
The bookseller was never weary of showing me about his native town, of which he was
enthusiastically fond. Indeed, I have never seen the spirit of localism, which is so
prevalent throughout Spain, more strong than at Saint James25. If their town did but
flourish, the Santiagians seemed to care but little if all others in Galicia perished. Their
antipathy to the town of Coruna was unbounded, and this feeling had of late been not a
little increased from the circumstance that the seat of the provincial government had
been removed from Saint James to Coruna. Whether this change was advisable or not, it
is not for me, who am a foreigner, to say; my private opinion, however, is by no means
favourable to the alteration. Saint James is one of the most central towns in Galicia,
with large and populous communities on every side of it, whereas Coruna stands in a
25
Seeing the extreme closeness in argument and choice of words, Borrow almost certainly took
the material for the following paragraphs (up to ‘what good can come from Coruña?’) from one
of the first (anonymous) texts ever published in Gallego: ‘La Tertulia de Picaños’, Imprenta de
Campaña y Aguayo, Santiago, 31 October 1836. Rey Romero – who ran the only bookshop in
town at this time – may have showed it to him as an example of what the local tongue looked
like when written. [Missler, ‘A Gallegan Source to The Bible in Spain’, in: GBB 25, 64-71.]
Chapter 27
corner, at a considerable distance from the rest.26 "It is a pity that the vecinos of Coruna
cannot contrive to steal away from us our cathedral, even as they have done our
government," said a Santiagian; "then, indeed, they would be able to cut some figure.
As it is, they have not a church fit to say mass in." "A great pity, too, that they cannot
remove our hospital," would another exclaim; "as it is, they are obliged to send us their
sick, poor wretches. I always think that the sick of Coruna have more ill-favoured
countenances than those from other places; but what good can come from Coruna?"
27.8 The Hospital Real of Santiago
Accompanied by the bookseller, I visited this hospital27, in which, however, I did not
remain long; the wretchedness and uncleanliness which I observed speedily driving me
away. Saint James, indeed, is the grand lazar-house for all the rest of Galicia, which
accounts for the prodigious number of horrible objects to be seen in its streets, who
have for the most part arrived in the hope of procuring medical assistance, which, from
what I could learn, is very scantily and inefficiently administered.28 Amongst these
26
The argument is shaky, since here in Galicia, the shortest route between two points was not a
straight line. As Borrow himself showed: the fastest way to get from Madrid to the heart of the
province was by taking the Camino Real, which first ran to Coruña, before doubling back
southward towards Santiago. Hence Coruña, which also communicated with the rest of the
world by sea, was, de facto, more central to the purposes of administration. In any case
geography was immaterial to the choice of capital. The liberal leadership moved the provincial
seat government to Coruña because it was a liberal town, not a hotbed of Carlism like Santiago.
Only ten years earlier, the central administration had been moved from Coruña to Santiago for
the exact opposite reason by the arch-conservative Captain-General Nazario Eguia.
27
The Hospital de los Reyes Catolicos, on the Plaza de Obradoiro, nowadays the most luxurious
5-star Parador in town.
28
Indeed, traditionally, the poor and sick, and in times of famine the whole of the countryside
peasantry, flocked to Santiago to throw themselves on the charity of the Church, which was the
only provider of any sort of social safety-net. When Borrow visited the town, this charity had
indeed dwindled; but not because of inefficient administration or priestly avarice, but because of
the anti-ecclesiastical policies of the new liberal regime. See note 30 below.
George Borrow: The Bible In Spain (Gabicote Edition)
unhappy wretches I occasionally observed the terrible leper, and instantly fled from him
with a "God help thee," as if I had been a Jew of old. Galicia is the only province of
Spain where cases of leprosy are still frequent; a convincing proof this, that the disease
is the result of foul feeding, and an inattention to cleanliness, as the Gallegans, with
regard to the comforts of life and civilized habits, are confessedly far behind all the
other natives of Spain.
"Besides a general hospital we have likewise a leper-house," said the bookseller. "Shall
I show it you? We have everything at Saint James. There is nothing lacking; the very
leper finds an inn here." "I have no objection to your showing me the house," I replied,
"but it must be at a distance, for enter it I will not." Thereupon he conducted me down
the road which leads towards Padron and Vigo, and pointing to two or three huts,
exclaimed "That is our leper-house."29 "It appears a miserable place," I replied: "what
accommodation may there be for the patients, and who attends to their wants?" "They
are left to themselves," answered the bookseller, "and probably sometimes perish from
neglect: the place at one time was endowed and had rents which were appropriated to its
support, but even these have been sequestered during the late troubles.30 At present, the
least unclean of the lepers generally takes his station by the road side, and begs for the
rest. See there he is now."
And sure enough the leper in his shining scales, and half naked, was seated beneath a
ruined wall. We dropped money into the hat of the unhappy being, and passed on.
"A bad disorder that," said my friend. "I confess that I, who have seen so many of them,
am by no means fond of the company of lepers. Indeed, I wish that they would never
enter my shop, as they occasionally do to beg. Nothing is more infectious, as I have
heard, than leprosy: there is one very virulent species, however, which is particularly
dreaded here, the elephantine: those who die of it should, according to law, be burnt,
and their ashes scattered to the winds: for if the body of such a leper be interred in the
field of the dead, the disorder is forthwith communicated to all the corses31 even below
29
The leper house of Santa Martha on the road towards Padron. Today nothing is left of the
institution except a small chapel. Borrow would probably have been astonished to learn that
there was still another leper hospital in Santiago, specialised in cases of elephantiasis, at San
Lazaro, on the road to Lugo. This institution functioned at least until 1885 [J. Fernandez
Sanchez & F. Freire Barreiro, Guia de Santiago y sus alrededores, Santiago 1885, 412]. But
note that these were not – as Borrow here pretends – the only leper houses left in Spain. Ford
[HB, 412] describes the great leper house of Seville, of which Borrow must also have known.
30
In the wanton act of the so-called Desamortizacion the new liberal regime stripped the
Church of all its landed income, and left it little to dispense to the poor. Next, the Madrid
politicians sold the confiscated church lands off to political cronies for a shoestring, and – after
solemnly promising state subsidies for the hospitals - left the sick to rot for themselves. A year
earlier, one of the town aldermen, Doctor Varela de Montes, already reported to the city council
that both leper institutions were in a bad shape due to the lack of funds. To remedy this the town
hall decided to solicit charitable alms from the public [Archivo Historico de la Universidad de
Santiago, ‘Libros Consistorios 1836’, folio 128, session of 25 August 1836]. Seeing Borrow’s
description here, this initiative does not seem to have helped much.
31
Archaic for ‘corpse’. The precise meaning of this somewhat silly remark begs explanation.
Chapter 27
the earth. Such, at least, is our idea in these parts. Lawsuits are at present pending from
the circumstance of elephantides having been buried with the other dead. Sad is leprosy
in all its forms, but most so when elephantine."
"Talking of corpses," said I, "do you believe that the bones of St. James are veritably
interred at Compostella?"
"What can I say," replied the old man; "you know as much of the matter as myself.
Beneath the high altar is a large stone slab or lid, which is said to cover the mouth of a
profound well, at the bottom of which it is believed that the bones of the saint are
interred; though why they should be placed at the bottom of a well, is a mystery which I
cannot fathom. One of the officers of the church told me that at one time he and another
kept watch in the church during the night, one of the chapels having shortly before been
broken open and a sacrilege committed. At the dead of night, finding the time hang
heavy on their hands, they took a crowbar and removed the slab and looked down into
the abyss below; it was dark as the grave; whereupon they affixed a weight to the end of
a long rope and lowered it down. At a very great depth it seemed to strike against
something dull and solid like lead: they supposed it might be a coffin; perhaps it was,
but whose is the question."32
27.9 The bookplate of the Rey Romero bookshop
32
Nowadays the silver coffin containing the remains of the Apostle and his disciples San
Atanasio and San Teofilio are exposed to view in the crypt of the Cathedral. But at the time of
Borrow´s visit, the tomb, which according to Madoz [DG, vol. 13, 817] could ‘be seen by the
devout until Archbishop Gelmirez ordered [it] to be closed’ shortly after the year 1100, had not
yet been rediscovered. This sensational event only occurred on 31 January 1879 when during
repair works a large tombstone was discovered bearing the inscription that the three Holy Men
were buried here [Ilustracion Gallega y Asturiana, nº 4 of 10 February 1879, 46f]. Nonreligious speculation as to the question whose remains may be buried in the tomb has yielded all
sorts of reasonable and fantastic candidates, one of them being the prosecuted Christian
dissenter Priscillus.