The Alvareda Family. A novelette. Translated ... by Viscount Pollington

Front matter

NEW AND POPULAR NOVELS. In 3 Vols. Price 31s. 6d. FIRM IN THE STRUGGLE By EMMA PICKERING, Author of "Forsaking All Others." " The story is extremely interesting, and never flags for a single page. We scarcely know a fiction of modern times in which the characters are equally well sketched and sustained. Many of the descriptions of country life and country scenery are quite equal to those so admirably depicted in ' Adam Bede.' — Daily Guardian. In 3 Vols. (Early in March). LANGLY MANOR. By MRS. C. J. NBWBY, Author of "Wondrous Strange," "Kate Kennedy," "Common Sense," &c, &c. In 2 Vols., post 8vo. THROUGH ALL ILLS. In 3 Vols. Price 31s. 6d. ROBERT BLAKE OF RINGWOOD. From the Times, January 8th, 1872. "It commands the respect due to a pure and wholesome tone of thought, and seeks to interest us by legitimate delineation of character, rather than to thrill us by the startling turn of an ingeni ous plot.

It neither demoralizes our moral nor bewilders our mental faculties." — Railways, postages— in a word, all the numerous facilities of the age— have almost annihilated distance, and, as a natural result, caused an individual trade between country customers and London establishments. Those who do not visit town, so as to select and purchase directly, send for patterns from which they can give their orders. But as all apparent advantages on the one hand have more or less their corresponding drawbacks, so this system is not without its bane. Pushing tradesmen make a market by offering goods at lower rates than they can possibly be sold at to realise a fair profit. The bait traps the unreflective, and the result is that the receipts en masse are not equal to the tempting samples. There is no new inven tion in this ; it has been practised in wholesale merchandise and by candidates for contracts, as the proverb hath it, since there were hills and valleys.

But we grieve to add it is sometimes resorted to by those whom one would credit for more integrity. Ladies, therefore, need exercise caution, and place confidence only in houses of old established fame, for rapidly-made businesses are not generally reli able. And to what does this assertion amount more than to the fact that nothing great can be effected not only without labour but with out time, and that Rome was not built, as the old saying says, in a day ? Messrs. Jay, of Regent-street, whose name is well known amongst the few on the list of hondfide establishments in the metro polis, have adopted a plan for assisting country ladies in choosing for themselves London fashions and fabrics. And their customers may rest assured that they will thus be enabled to obtain goods of every quality, both low and high priced, at the most reasonable terms — that is, the terms of small profits for quick returns — and that they may firmly rely upon the thoroughly corresponding character of samples and supplies. — From the Court Jov/rnal.

Part I

Chapter. Page. I. — Ventura and Peeico 6 II. — Elvira and Rita 21 m. — An Engagement and a Warning 30 IV. — Settling the Matter 45 V. — Maria and Pedro 57 VI. — The Legend of Dos Hermanas 77 VLT. — An Interrupted Wedding

Part II

Chaptee. Page. I. — A Surprise 1°6 n. — "Ah quel Plaislr d'etre Soldat" .... 133 m. — Discovered ! "f TV. — A Stormy Interview 157 V. — Suspicion 168 VI. — Provocation 176 VII. — Satisfaction 188 Vlli. — Suspense 197

Part III

I. — A Meeting 205 H.— The "Gaol Bird" 217 III. — Convalescence 228 IV. — Repentance 236 V. — The Brigands 244 VI.— The Plan 252 VII.— Sacrilege 260 VEIL— Expiation , 278 The Epilogue TRANSLATOR'S

Preface

. The " Familia de Alvareda" was the first work written by Fernan Caballero. This name is now known to be but a pseudonym for Cæcilia, the daughter of Don Juan Nicolas Bohl de Faber. She was born in 1797 at Morges, in Switzerland, and had three hus bands, but is now, if still alive, a widow. The MS. of the "Familia" was originally written by her in Grerman, then re-written in Spanish. The German copy was probably never published, as the " Graviota," since translated into English, was her first printed book. The " Sal Andaluz," with which " The B TRANSLATOR'S

PREFACE.

. II Alvareda Family" is plentifully flavoured, and the Andalusian couplets constantly recurring therein, render the task of translation no easy one, and we crave the indulgence of our readers if in some instances the exact equiva lents in English are not rendered. Allowance must also be made for the frequent laudations our authoress bestows on the most childish of Spanish Catholic super stitions ; these we have not ventured to cut out or curtail, as they go to show her deeply religious character. The Translator. THE AUTHOR'S

PREFACE.

. A WORD TO THE READER. The plot of the present novel, which we have described as devoted to depicting the people [of Andalusia], is founded upon fact, and we have told our story as it actually occurred, even to the making use of the very expressions uttered by the characters who figure in our tale, only occasionally toning these down where requisite. We have also transferred the epoch of these events to an earlier period, and have made a few alterations at the beginning and the end. "We cannot conceal it from ourselves that, from a literary point of view, we might have b THE AUTHOR'S

PREFACE.

. IV made much more out of our subject-matter, by treating it either with greater classical embellishment, or the rich colouring of ro mance; or again in more high-flown style. But as our aim is not to create a sensation, nay, rather to depict country people and their manners and customs as they really exist, we have not chosen to deviate from nature and the truth in even the smallest particular. "With the exception of correcting the pro nunciation in some few instances (as inserting the Hs and suppressing the Ds) [Andalusian dialect] the language used is that of the An dalusian peasants, as are the ideas, feelings, and customs described. We can assure any person who asserts the contrary, that after a study of many years, made con amore, and continued with perseverance, we are likely to understand these subjects as well as any body. Part I.

Chapter I

If we follow the bend formed by the ancient walls of Seville, which enclose that city, as it were a jewel in a setting of stone, and leave the river, and " Las Delicias," to our right, we soon come to the " San Fernando " Cate. From this gate a straight road across the plain leads us to the foot of the " Buena Vista " mountain range, having previously crossed the little " Tagarete " on a stone bridge, when the road begins to ascend the somewhat arduous steep of the mountain, upon whose top we descry the ruins of a small chapel. Taking a bird's eye view of this road, it appears, as it were, an arm which Seville stretches out towards these ruins, raising it on high in order to call attention to them ; and, indeed, although they are of no great extent, and without the least pretension to artistic merit, yet they constitute a religious as well as an historical monument, being, as they are, a legacy left us by the great King Ferdinand the Third, whose memory is held in such high popularity that he is at the same time admired as a hero, reverenced as a saint, and adored as a king, for, indeed, we find the beau ideal of the Spanish people realised in his great and historical character.

After surmounting the height, the road begins to descend again down the opposite slope, and soon comes down to a little valley watered by a tiny rivulet. The water of this stream is so exquisitely pure that its basin seems composed but of brilliant pebbles and golden sand. After crossing the stream a short distance onward, a cheerful and homely little inn smiles upon the road, on the right, whilst on the left it pays its respect to a small Moresque castle, which stands so proudly on an eminence that we might suppose it thought the earth had raised itself there, for the sole purpose of forming it a footstool. This castle was a present made by Don Pedro, of Castille, to his celebrated and charming lady-love, Maria de Padilla, whose name it still retains. In course of time the Castle of " Doha Maria " and the property around it came to belong, no doubt through some pious dona tion, to the Cathedral of Seville, whose chapter sold it, in our time, to a private individual.

He, of course, paid for the rich pastures and fat olive yards of "Dona Maria," but their historical associations formed no part of his bargain, for soon after the transfer, ancient, battered, and wrinkled "Doha Maria" appeared dressed up in the most dazzling of whitewash, and embellished with green and shining glass windows as adornments, decked out and decorated just as some arrogant miss might be, so that the rumour ran amongst the enchanted villagers that the beautiful sinner, the lovely mistress, had undoubtedly expiated her somewhat scandalous life by •500 years of purgatory, and was received back into grace. Those, however, who love old memories and the beautiful and solemn tints of time, sighed and grieved as though a sepulchre had been profaned. Let us now proceed onward on the road, which soon opens up a path for itself between evergreen oaks and the dwarf palms of a pasturage, till it arrives at the village of Dos Hermanas, situated on a sandy plain, about two leagues from Seville.

It would require an imagination ready to invent and embellish, in order to make a beautiful and picturesque place of this village, which has the reputation of being extremely ugly, and she who now describes it only sketches from nature. Here you see neither river nor lake, nor shady trees, nor little villas with green "jalousies," no lattices covered with creeping plants, or peacocks and guinea-fowls pecking upon the green turf ; there are no beautiful avenues of trees planted in straight lines and seeming like so many slaves holding out perpetual sunshades, to afford the passer-by a continual screen. All this is wanting. Sad, indeed, is it to have to confess it ! All here is rustic, coarse, and devoid of elegance ; but on the other hand, you will here meet with good and happy countenances, which will prove to you that the absence of all these things need not make people miserable.

You b will also find flowers in the courtyard of every house, and healthy, merry children at each door, even more numerous than the flowers ; you will find that sweet peacefulness of the country, generated by silence and solitude, an atmosphere of Eden, the skies of Paradise. These are the advantages it enjoys ; these compensate fully the want of the others. The village is composed of a few broad streets formed by one-storied houses, laid out in long wearisome straight lines, and not parallel to each other, since they all meet in a great sandy square, which spreads out like a tawny carpet in front of a fine church lifting up on high its lofty tower, crowned by a cross, like some standard in a soldier's hand. The " oasis " of this sterile locality lies behind the church. There is a large door in the wall at the back of this church, which joins on to a great broad court, in front of the chapel dedicated to Saint Ana, who is the patron saint of the village ; adjoining the chapel, and, in fact, propped up against one of its walls, stands the small and lowly hut of its custodian, who is at the same time the verger and only choir of the church.

Here, in this court, you may see dark centenarian cypress trees, with their spreading roots, the gay and luxuriant " paraiso " of such light wood, whose leaves, flowers, and fragrance coquet with every wind, for it knows its life to be but a short one, and that exquisite — the orange tree — that favoured son of Andalusian soil, to whom hfe is made so easy and so sweet. You may see the vine, which, like an infant, requires the aid of man in order to thrive and grow upward, caressing with its spreading tendrils the trellis that supports it ; for surely even plants have their own dis tinguishing characteristics, by which we are variously impressed. "Who could look upon a cypress tree without a feeling of respect for it, or on a " paraiso " without fond ness, an orange tree without admiration ?

Does not the lavender give you the idea and impression of an unruffled and contented existence? "Would you care to deny the rosemary, flower of Christmas eve, its power of inspiring pure and holy thoughts ? Those interminable olive gardens which constitute the principal branch of agriculture in Andalusia, extend to the right and left of the village. The trees are planted at regular intervals one from another, which causes the plantations to look cheerful, although the soil between, levelled and bare from the plough, gives them an intolerably monotonous look. The factory or farm belonging to each plantation may be seen from time to time. These are built with such want of taste or propor tions that you might walk round them without discovering which was the front. These build ings or factories have nothing grand about them, unless it be the towers of their oil mills, which rise above the olive trees as it were to count them.

Most of these plantations belong to the aristocracy of Seville ; but they are generally uninhabited, as fine ladies are not partial to the country ; in consequence they are ill cared for, and empty like so many barns. Thus in these lonely and deserted districts the silence of nature is interrupted but by crowing of the cock, as he stands in watchful guard over his harem, or by the braying of some aged donkey, which the overseer has turned loose, and which has be come bored by its solitary position. On one fine evening in the January of 1810, however, just before sunset, the fresh and sonorous voice of a youth, whose age might have been about twenty, could be heard, as, with his musket on his shoulder, he walked with light but firm steps through the olive yards, by one of the paths which led across them.

His manly, though small waisted body, was tall and well-proportioned; his person, manners, and gait had that supple ness, that refinement and grace, which cannot be artificially acquired, but which nature has bestowed bountifully upon the Andalusians. His head, which was covered with black locks, he held proudly erect, a model of the most perfect type of Spanish beauty ; his great black eyes sparkled, their gaze was steady and full of intellect ; his well-shaped upper lip arched itself as he thought of some past joyous jest, exposing a row of pearly teeth ; his whole robust body seemed to breath forth excess of spirits, exuberance of strength and energy. A single silver stud fastened his white shirt upon his brown neck. He wore a short jacket of grey cloth with short breeches of the same stuff, fastened at the knees with silk ribbons and tassels; a sash of yellow silk encircled his dapper waist in many folds.

On his well-shaped feet and ankles he wore richly worked leather shoes and gaiters: a broad brimmed hat, called a "calafies" or Portuguese, trimmed with velvet and silk tassels, and worn jauntily on the left side of the head, completed his picturesque Andalu sian costume. This young man, well-known as of active disposition and bold and fearless nature, was employed by the bailiff of one of these plan tations to keep watch over it whilst the olive harvest was going on. He walked along, singing — " As I go my Maria to see, Dp the hill seems all downhill to me ; But when I Maria must leave, Downhill seems uphill, as I grieve."* On arriving at the paling which surrounded the olive yard the watchman vaulted over it without troubling himself to seek the gate leading into the garden, and found himself in a road face to face with another young fellow scarcely older than himself, who was proceed ing towards the same village.

The new comer was dressed in exactly the same fashion as our first friend ; but he was not so tall, nor was his figure as erect. His grey eyes * See also Crabbe, " The Lover's Journey," wherein is contained a very similar idea. — Trans. were less vivacious, and his look quieter; his mouth betokened more gravity, and his smile was gentler. Instead of a gun he carried a spade on his shoulder ; before him walked a donkey, which he was not urging on at any pace, and a great shaggy, short-haired dog, yellowish white in colour, of the splen did breed peculiar to Estramadura, followed him. " Hullo ! is it you, Perico ? God be with you," said our newly-appointed watchman. " And with you also, Ventura," the other replied. " Are you coming for a holiday ?" " No," Ventura answered him ; "I am going for provisions.

Besides, it's a week — " " Since you saw my sister Elvira ?" inter rupted Perico, with a smile. "Well, old fellow, it takes two to play at any game." " You hold your tongue, Perico, and I will hold mine ; who lives in a glass house must not throw stones at his neighbours," replied the watchman. " How lucky you are, Ventura," Perico went on with a sigh ; " you can marry when ever you like, without anyone saying you nay." " What do you mean ?" asked Ventura. " Who or what can prevent your marrying ?" " My mother's wish," answered Perico. " "What is that ? What do you tell me ?" exclaimed Ventura. " What possible objec tion can she have to Rita, who is young, good looking, and of honourable parentage ? be sides, she is your cousin." " Well, that last is exactly the reason my good mother alleges for her disinclination to the marriage."

" Old woman's scruples ; does she want to teach our church — which permits it — what is right and what is wrong ?" " My mother," replied Perico, " has no religious scruples on the subject; but she says that nature herself revolts at marriages be tween relations so near as we are ; that kin dred blood flies from kin and abhors it, and that sooner or later all kind of ill, misfortune, and disagreeableness comes in their train and overtakes them. She repeats in stances of such by the hundred." "Never you mind," said Ventura; "let her foretell and prophecy all these evils, like an old owl ; mothers have always something or other to say against their son's marriages." " No," replied Perico, seriously ; " no, I will never marry without my mother's con sent." For some minutes they walked on together in silence ; at last Ventura said — " The truth of the matter is, that I am just like that cautious captain who embarked all the people on board, but stayed on shore himself; or, like the preacher, who used to tell his congregation — - Act upon what I say, and not upon what I do.' Now, see here, doesn't my father's wish tie me up like a lion on a woollen rope?

"Why, do you know, Perico, that if it was not for my father, who does not wish me to do it,Ishouldbeoff directly to Utrera, where they are enrolling a com pany of volunteers to go and fight these in famous traitors who are now coming through our gates as pretended friends, in order to make themselves masters of our country, and impose a foreign yoke upon us. Do you know, Perico, that what we are doing in looking on while those others march away to fight, and wo stay behind, is being bad Spaniards and cowards ?" " Thatis just what I think," replied Perico ; " but, then, how am I to leave my mother and sister who have no one but me to protect them ? But, be sure, if my mother obstinately persists in not allowing me to marry, I can not go on hke this much longer, and I shall be off with the other boys.

I have made up my mind to it." " And you will do quite right," exclaimed Ventura, with animation. " As for me, some day when they least expect it, they may call for me — I shall not answer ; and, Perico, depend upon it, on that day there will be some Frenchmen the fewer on our Spanish soil." " And Elvira ?" asked Perico. " She will act like the rest of them ; — she will wait for me — or mourn for me !" They had now reached their destination.

Chapter II

Spacious, and scrupulously whitewashed with out and within, was the house belonging to the Alvareda family ; a stone and mortar bench was built against the wall on either side of the door. A lamp hung in the porch before an image of Our Saviour, which, according to the Spanish Catholic custom of preparing for every office in life by a religious sentiment, and placing all things under divine protection, was fixed over the door. In the centre of the spacious court, an enormous orange tree spread out its leafy branches, from a robust and healthy stem ; a circular paling protected it, as it were, with a breastplate. For a countless number of generations this beautiful tree had been a constant source of delight to this family; Perico's father, the late Juan Alvareda, used to take a traditional pride in making its existence date from the epoch of the expulsion of the Moors from Spain, directly after which event, he used to say, an Alvareda, who had served under the Holy King Ferdinand, planted it, and when the priest of the place, his wife's brother, would jest, and call in question the antiquity and un broken succession of his line of ancestors, he would answer, quite unruffled, and without faltering in his conviction for an instant, that all the families in the world were ancient, and that perhaps the direct descent and pedigrees of rich families might come to an end, but that such a thing never happened in poor families.

The women Alvaredas used to make tonic decoctions — good for the digestion, and soothing to the nerves — from the leaves of this orange tree ; their little daughters adorned themselves with its blossoms, and made sweetmeats of them ; their little boys regaled their palates, and cooled their blood with its fruit. The birds of the air made of its branches their general rendezvous, and sung a thousand joyous carols in its praise ; while its owners, who have grown up beneath its shade, unweariedly watered it in summer, and plucked the withered branches from it in winter, as children pluck the grey hairs from the beloved head of a father whom they would wish never to see grow older. To the right and left of the front door were two sets of apartments, or " partidos," according to the local expression, of exactly similar pro portions, consisting each in a large room, with two windows protected by iron gratings, looking on to the street, and two bedrooms at right angles to the large room, lighted from the court.

At the further end of this there was a door, which opened into a large farm yard, where were situated the kitchen, the laundry, and the out-houses. A large fig tree stood in the centre of this yard, and had so little pride or self-respect that it suffered itself, without a murmur — nay, without ever once bending down its branches beneath the very inconvenient load, to be made use of at night as a roosting place by the fowls, and never thought even of given them a tumble by way of a practical joke. Three years had elapsed since the death of the head of the family. "When he felt his end approaching, he sent for his son Perico, and said unto him, " I leave your mother and sister under your charge ; watch over the one, and guide her; be guided yourself by the other. Always live in the holy dread of the Lord — and think of your last day ; thus you will be able to bear its approach without fear or sorrow.

Remember my death, that you may not fear your own. Everyone of the Alvaredas has been an honourable man ; the same Spanish blood runs in your veins, and the same Spanish Catholic principles that made them honoured live in your heart. Be like unto them, and you will live happy and died contented." His widow Ana was a woman distinguished in her own sphere of life, and one who would have equally adorned a more exalted position. Educated by her brother, who was a priest, her mind was cultivated, her character serious, her manners dignified, her virtue a matter of instinct ; these good qualities, combined with her position of ease, gave her a real superiority over all her neighbours which she fully under stood, but without taking undue advantage of it. Her son Perico, obedient, modest, and hard working, had proved a source of comfort to her, since he had never given her other cause of annoyance than his love for his cousin Rita.

Her daughter Elvira, three years younger c than her brother, resembled a willow in her docility, a violet in her modesty, and a lily in her purity. In her youth she was not always in good health, and this found expression in her complexion, which bore a look of calm resignation that lent a singular charm to her pale face. She was very like her brother. Her attachment to Ventura dated from her earliest infancy. Ventura was the handsome and proud son of their neighbour Pedro, the friend and boon companion of the late Juan Alvareda. Pedro's wife died in giving birth to a daughter, who was, in consequence, put under the care of a nun in Alcala, her mother's sister, by her father. Thus separated from his daughter, Pedro's whole love had been concentrated upon his son Ventura ; he had beheld him with a father's pride and gratifica tion growing up to be the handsomest, the most gallant, and the bravest young man of the village.

The humble dwelling of Maria, Rita's mother, was situated exactly opposite the house of the Alvaredas. Maria was the widow of one of Ana's brothers, who had been bailiff of the neigh bouring plantation of Quintos. Her nature was so good, so devoid of bitterness, so gentle and simple, that she had never found sufficient strength of character or vigour enough to subdue the haughty, arrogant, and headstrong temperament which her daughter Rita, even when quite a Httle girl, showed herself to possess; thus these bad qualities had developed themselves in her unchecked and unreproved. She was impetuous in character, excitable in temperament, and cold of heart. In face — which was unusually comely, seductively expressive, bewitching, full of life, of fun, and of smiles — she was the exact opposite of her cousin Elvira.

The one might be likened to some full-blown hothouse rose, armed with all its thorns ; the other to some pale hedge-rose lifting above itself a crown of thorns, the o emblem of suffering, yet which hides within stores of the sweetest honey. In describing and classifying the different members of this family and their relations, we must not overlook " Melampo," the dog, which we have already seen quietly following at Perico's heels. We must give him a place, for all dogs are not on a par, not even " before the law." (?) Melampo was an honourable and serious dog, without a grain of conceit in him ; not even that of being a canine Her cules or Theseus, although his great strength would have fully authorised this pretension. He seldom barked, and then never without a very sufficient reason ; he was sober in his habits, and never greedy ; he cared not to be demonstrative in his caresses to his masters, yet he never, on any account whatever, left their side.

He had never been known to bite anyone in the whole course of his life. From his lofty height he would look scornfully down upon the little curs that attacked him with their yelpings, as they followed him in stupid hostility. Yet Melampo had killed in his time six dog-foxes, three wolves, and one day saved his master from the attack of a mad bull, which he pinned by the ear and subdued like a naughty child. Melampo then, with all these feathers in his cap, slept soundly in the sun upon his laurels.

Chapter III

"When the two young men arrived, they found Elvira and Rita standing one on either side of the doorway, leaning against it. They wore a mantilla of yellow stuff, trimmed with a band of black velvet, which the women of the people used to wear at that period, instead of the kerchief they use nowadays. The lower part of their faces was covered, so that nothing but their eyes and foreheads were to be seen. After wishing each other good evening. Perico began talking with his sister. " Elvira," he said, " do you know, this bird wants to fly away ? Mind you shut up the cage well ; an' you believe it, he is dying to be off after those rascally foreigners who want to invade our country." " Yes, and they say," added Ventura, "that they are approaching Seville, and shall we stand here looking on with our arms folded, without saying them nay?"