Vacation Tour in Portugal

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXIX, Issue 1, 6 July 1907, Page 38

Vacation Tour in Portugal

A DELIGHTFUL COUNTRY

lii the mind.? of most people Portugal is lumped generally with Spain, and Portugese and Spanish arc all more or less the same to the average foreigner. The recfnt political disturbances in the little Kingdom which nestles by the side of King Alfonso’s dominion have called attention to it. and some extracts from a, charming \oluine called “Through Portugal,’* by an American named -Major Alai tin Hume, will be read with interest. Major Hume confesses that he was brought up in the Castilian tradition that Portugal was altogether an interior c< untry. and the Portguese uncouth boors, and sets forth frankly his sense ot his former injustice “towards the most beautiful country and the most unspoilt and courteous peasantry in Southern Europe. ' There are inconvenience* which the traveller must encounter if he wants the joy of seeing an “unhackneyed’’ land, but they are not serious. The hotels in the small towns furnish at least clean beds, and among the native dishes some which attract the Anglo-Saxon. There are good modern hotels in Lisbon ami Oporto, and at Brussaco. tb sebne of a famous battle, is a wonderul hotel, probably the most beautiful in Europe, says Major Hume—a magnificent structure which was built as a royal lesidence, and is a bewilderingJy loveiy thing of chiselled stone set in a paradise of garden, terrace, and glorious woods. The author does not forget to add to his catalogue of its virtues “a bill of almost disconcerting moderation.” The pleasantest way of travelling through the country is by carriage, and tnTs is not expensive. The railways, having been iik?ant chiefly for the conveyance ot fieight, offer comfortable but es?eed’ngly Blow passage. There is little mendicancy in Portugal; the author encountered it in its systematic form only at Batalha. where groups of chubby, pretty children kneel b\ the roadside, ready for begging, their hands joined as in prayer, “their eyes clos'd reverently, and their expression rapt like little' dirty angels.’’ That is in central Portugal; the race in the north is one eminently self-respecting and independent. Major Hume describes the peasant of that region as working hard, and living frugally upon about 30 cents a dux "and so long as lie can earn his dried stockfish, his beans, bread and grapes, with a little red wine to drink, he scorns to b g for the indulgence of his idleness.” •'The absence of vociferation and vehemence in the people.” he writes. “dicT not mean sulkiness or stupidity : but was the result of the int nse earnestness with which their daily life was faced their unregarding albofne?- toward strangers was not rudeiw. but the highest courtesy which hade them avoid obtrusive curiosit \ : and soon I learnt to know that tb» ir cold exterior barely concealed a di< interested desire to extend in fullest inca-ure aid ami sympathy to those who nettled tlieni. in all m\ wand rings I have novel iiet. except perhaps in Norwav. a |H?asantry so full of willingness to shox courtesy to strangers without tS.light of gain to themselves as th°se people of North Portugal, almost pure Celts as they are. with the Celtic innate kindliness of heart and ready sympathy. Though ♦ t course with the Celtic fdmxtcoming? of jealousy, inconstancy and distrust.” The streets of Oporto glow with ric h c« ’our- in -hop and market, and the pea-ant woim-n. who still wear the ancient co-tunw of their country, acid here am! there a characteristic gleam of brightn»--. Tin nun are «hod. but the u< nun. old and young, go barefoot. They • airy queer boat-shaped basket-, heavily lad* n. - t up*, n their black pork-pic hats: “Their skirt*, u-ually black, but often with a broad horizontal stripe of colour r< und the bottom, are very short, and gathered with great fulm— at the waiet and over the hip-. I’pon the shoulders there is alnto-t invariably a brilliantly coloured handkerchief. ind sometimes another upon the head beneath tlie hat; aitd long. pendant, gild c-arrings shine

against their coarse, jet-black hair. It is evident that for the most part they work quite as hard as the men. but they have no appearance of privation or ill treatment, except that their habit carrying heavy weights upon their heads has the effect of ruining their figures. . . . There arc' no indications anywhere of excessive drinking, and even smoking is not conspicuous among the working men and boys in the streets; they seem, indeed, too seriously busy for that, except on some feast day. when, wifh their best clothes on, they are gay enough, though not vociferous even then, as most Southern peoples are.” Wherever the traveller went he found relies and reminiscences of heroic and romantic times, and of strange historical scenes. In the Church of Santa Cruz, at Coimbra, King Manuel, early in the sixteenth century, set on a throne before the high altar the mummified corpse of his predecessor. Affonso Henriques, crowned and shrouded in royal robes, a grisly form watching through empty sockets the homage of his shrinking subjects. Two centuries earlier as tragic a picture was seen in a monastry church not far -away. Across the rivet Mondego, from Coimbra, there are the ruins of a palace wherein lived Inez de Castro, the beautiful girl for whose sake the prince Doni Pedro refused obedience to his father’s command to marry another. The shining waters still leap in the fountain lieside which, at the old King’s orders, this fair Inez was murdered. As much as Pedro loved her he hated his father, and they, never met again. When the young ' man came to the throne after two unhappy years, he took from the convent grave the body of his beloved, and the ghastly figure, clothed in the garb and jewels of a queen, was placed upon a throne in the monastery church of Alcobacai “whilst all the courtiers upon their knee-, kissed the dead hand of her whom they had insulted and contemned in life.” In the church of Santa Clara, at Coimbra, the traveller climbs a turret stair to a small, dark room wherein stands a little altar. There is a trap in the centre of it. and this, when lifted, reveals a grating through which one may peer into —the Middle Ages. “A large solemn choirchamber. with carved stalls in rows extending lengthwise along it. and the ample central space occupied by a magnificent canopy, under which, lit by a tiny red lamp burning eternally before it. lies a great coffin of rich repous?' silver, in which there rests the body of the sainted queen, the patron of Coimbra. the heroic Aragonese nrincess. who in 1323 rode between the armies of her husband. King Diniz. and their rebellious son. and stayed their unnatural strife at her own great peril.*’ Here within the walls of Santa Clara the poor “Beltranega” passed her last dreary years, and here at Coimbra reigned Leonor. the wickedest queen in Portuguese history. She had many ways of disposing of those she hated —the dungeon was the mildest; and the cruelest of all her contrivances she turned upon her sister, the Prin.es* Maria. She poured poisonous words into the ear of Maria’s husband until Prince Joao, wrought to madness, murdered the unhappy lady. Then came Leonor mo.king and jeering at the wretched man. and proclaiming her sister's innocence. Of course, he tried to murder her too, but failed: and the base creature lived on in the happiness that belongs to her kind. Some of Major Hume’s most fascinating page* are devoted to the ancient Portugese monasteries. He writes with peculiar vividness of the mediaeval castlemonastery of Thomar. still splendid in its decay. The old round church of the Templars was built in 110 H. and its interior i* described as a quaint and curious mixture of Byzantine. Moorish. Romanesque, and Gothic. Tn the great choir which wa- added to the round rhuich the reluctant Portugese nobles sullenly swore allegiance to Philip IT. as

King of Portugal as well as of Spain; and in the Gothic cloister is to be seen the stone eoiiin of Baltasar de Faria, who served as Philip's instrument in forcing upon Portugal the Spanish form of Inquisition. Faria's cruelty Was something beyond the human, and loathing men said of his end that “earth itself would reject and refuse to assimilate the body of such a monster.” Fate apparently proved the truth of the saying, for one may look through the pane of glass set in his sarcophagus and there behold the mean, shrunken mummy of Master Baltasar, forever debarred ■from the good clean earth. Thomar, the author concludes, is a relic which, in its way, has hardly an equal in Europe; but something even more wonderful he was to visit later —the famous abbey of Batalha. "the wonder and envy) of ecclesiastical architects for six centuries, and even now, dismantled and bedevilled as it is, one of the most beautiful Gothic structures in existenee. . . . Think of an editice with a facade of exquisite beauty-, and all of it of the loveiy soft colour of an old Japanese ivory carving! The author quotes a remark from a manuscript of Lord Strathmore, wno visited the abbey about the middle of the eighteenth century, that one part was left imperfect, "being so beautiful that nobody dar'd to finish it.” Major Hume throws, down his gage to the purists who condemn that marvel, the_cloistered court of Batalha, as too exuberant in ornament—he finds it exquisite, and cares nothing for the opinion of the aforesaid purists. He notes the remarkable groining in the chapter house, “springing like palm branches from clustered pillars in the wall and all centring in the apex of the roof.” and he quotes "Vathek” Beckford's description: “It is a square of seventy feet and the most strikingly beautiful apartment I ever beheld. The graceful arching of the roof, unsupported by console or column, is unequalled: it seems suspended by magic; indeed, human means failed twice in constructing this bold, unembarrassed space. Perseverance and the animating encouragement of the sovereign founder at length conquered every difficulty, and tne work remains to this hour secure and perfect.” The founders of the house were a married pair, King John the Great his English Philippa, the daughter -of John of Gaunt. Here they lie withi, their stately monuments, their sons around them. ■Of the palace at Cintra. the Moorish Alcazar which John and Philippa made their summer residence, the traveller has many interesting things to say in the way of description and of history. Cintra, indeed, inspires him almost I it did Byron, whose "glorious Eden" it was. As for Lisbon, he laments over the fashion in which the picturesque has been turned into ugliness and tilth—for along the river side have been built smoke-belching factories and doeks almost as hideous as the factories, and the splendid view provided by nature is thus absolutely wasted.