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.
