The Sunny South: An Autumn in Spain and MajorcaClayton, John William
History
The Sunny South: An Autumn in Spain and Majorca
Clayton, John William
Majorca (Spain) -- Description and travel; Spain -- Description and travel
When after breakfast we looked out of our window, we perceived on
the opposite side of the way a grim old castle, with little grated
windows sunk deep into its walls, like the eyes in a consumptive
face. And well, indeed, should that old building hide its eyes from
all creation, for did not its walls give shelter to the guilty trio
who planned within them the devilish scheme of the massacre of St.
Bartholomew,--the Duke of Alva, Catherine de' Medici, and her miserable
offspring, Charles IX.?
A walk about Bayonne brings to notice of course a great amount of
fortification, especially the citadel of Vauban, where Marshal Soult
and the Duke of Wellington fought very hard and sacrificed a great
number of the soldiers of their respective countries. Proceeding in
another direction outside the town, the tourist will come to a cemetery
where lie forgotten, mouldering in the dust of a foreign land, the
remains of the officers of the British guards who fell during the
fruitless siege of Bayonne. Down in a dim dell, amongst old trees
whispering a requiem in the breeze of falling night, we stood over
those solitary graves, near which there was no sign of life, and where
the brambles of the wilderness did their utmost to impede the tributary
footsteps of the two English pilgrims to this forgotten shrine of their
brave countrymen, on which the last beams of sunset threw what seemed
in imagination a bloody light.
On a fine southern morning, we climbed on to the top of a crazy
diligence, swinging in a very top-heavy and uncomfortable manner over
some very high wheels. The vehicle swayed to and fro in such a way
that the last carriage of an express train on the narrow gauge would
appear immovable compared with it. The _banquette_, with its hood,
in which we were travelling for pleasure, seemed quite overburdened
with politeness, and bowed in the most humble manner to everybody and
everything it met. We were now on our way to Biarritz, a place we
reached after an hour's drive in which there is nothing very remarkable
to attract the traveller's attention.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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