Bidwell's Travels, from Wall Street to London Prison: Fifteen Years in Solitude
Soon after 10 o'clock we arrived in the walled town of Avila, about
eighty miles from the famous Escurial built by the second Philip, and
about 150 miles from Madrid. Here we got an excellent dinner and good
coffee. But dinner was spoiled for me by the disastrous intelligence
that martial law had been proclaimed and that the Government had seized
the roads running north from Madrid to transport troops.
Here was a pretty pickle! I was enraged. I saw the chief of the railway
at Avila, but he was a fool, and under the unwonted state of affairs had
lost what little head he ever had.
So once more our baggage was all piled out of the train, and once more
we had to go into camp on the floor of the station, with a terrific din
around us.
I arose early, and looking up the telegraph clerk and railway chief, I
made them both rich by the present to each of five escudos.
Then I telegraphed Castelar and the Minister of War that I was an
Englishman, that I had my family with me, and having important business
in Madrid I must not be detained in Avila. I demanded that he should at
once direct the military officials to send me on to Madrid by special
train. I also sent a telegram to Hernandez, president of the road in
Paris, offering 5,000 francs for a special train. Another urgent message
was sent to the superintendent in Madrid repeating the offer for a
special train, the same sum to himself if he expedited the train. I also
authorized him to spend a similar amount if necessary in bribing the
military authorities.
At 11 o'clock I had a long telegram from him saying a train would be
made up at Avila. But an hour having passed away, I sent him a message
to order up an engine and one car from Madrid. Another message arrived
at 12 o'clock, and down came an engine and car.
Our baggage was hustled into the three front compartments. I put Nunn
and the Portuguese party in one and my wife and I occupied the rear
compartment. Thank Heaven! once more alone together. The soldiers and
inhabitants flocked around, and we were the observed of all observers.
The local railway chief was more than anxious to see us off, as I added
another five to the five escudos already given. Just then the telegraph
operator flew out with an order for our train to await the arrival of
the train from Madrid.
I stormed. I kept the wire hot with messages of protest to officials.
Two messages came from Madrid saying the delay was but temporary. So
there I sat in that musty compartment, my wife by my side and with a
heart full of bitterness, for I saw the precious hours slipping away,
and with them my chance of taking the Sunday morning train so as to
catch the Cadiz steamer. To miss it, I thought, meant ruin.
Hour after hour passed by, and there we sat. My secret cause of unrest
had to be kept locked in my breast, while my young wife, all
unsuspecting, was merry and happy, chanting little snatches of song and
telling me a hundred times she was the happiest of women. She did not
care for revolutions, nor for delays. Was she not with me! The sun
began to go down the sky, and the shadows fell. Still we sat on,
expecting every moment an order to proceed. The suspense was terrible.
At last about 6 o'clock an order came to have everything ready to pull
out for Madrid at 7, so very reluctantly we dismounted to take supper in
the station, and once more got into the car. But no order came. The
hours dragged on, and I saw fate closing her hand on me.
The night wore on, when suddenly, toward midnight, the operator rushed
out of his office and, shouting to the engineer, flew up to our
compartment, said good-bye and in a minute we were off. After that long
and terrible day it was happiness to be moving.
I had given the engineer a tip; he put on steam, and as we flew over the
road hope returned. I felt we were safe. At the rate we were going I
should have two or three hours to spare. We soon were at the Escurial.
As fate would have it we found here an order to run us on a side line
and to keep the track clear for a train going north. For two miserable
hours we waited and no train. Then I set the wires in motion again, and
just as the eastern skies grew gray we started.
Soon after midnight I telegraphed to the railway authorities at Madrid
to hold the train going south to Cadiz until my arrival, offering $100
an hour for every hour's detention.
Madrid is situated on a high sandy plain, storm-swept in Winter worse
than any plains in Northern Europe. We had a wheezy engine. Four miles
out it broke down, and then I gave up the struggle.
At 4 o'clock Sunday afternoon, nine hours too late for the Cadiz train,
we arrived at Madrid, too late to reach Cadiz by a special train. Not
too late could the train have been started off as soon as ordered, but
in Spain a special train is an unheard-of thing.
Mine from Avila was an innovation, only possible because there was so
much money behind it to all concerned at both ends of the line. No
Spaniard was ever known to be in a hurry, and no particle of matter
between his chin and his sombrero holds any lurking suspicion that
anything born of a woman could be in a hurry or have any reason for any
such insanity.
Here I was at last in the much-longed-for Madrid, but not on time, and I
had nothing to do but to put in execution some new plan. Had I even at
that late date resolved to go to New York, I could have returned to
France by the Eastern route, via Barcelona, and all might have been
well.
I telegraphed to Lopez & Co. to Cadiz inquiring if they would hold the
El Rey Felipe for twenty hours. They replied they were under contract
with the Government and had to sail on time. So I said good-bye to that
plan.
On consulting my memorandum I saw there was a French steamer sailing
from St. Nazaire, on the west coast of France, for Vera Cruz, Mexico,
which would touch at Santander on Saturday for mails and passengers, and
I resolved to go by her; this, of course, meant retracing our way
through the hated Avila to Burgos, and changing there for Santander.
Here we saw the last of the Portuguese family with their sick member.
They said good-bye with every expression of gratitude, and in truth I
was glad to see them off. We were all very tired of them, and they had
been a serious expense. That is, might have been serious, but as I paid
that expense out of the Bank of England's cash I naturally could be
liberal in the extreme, and gave a salve to my conscience by reflecting
what a good-souled, charitable young man I was in looking out for these
strangers and putting my hand freely in my pocket in their behalf.
As soon as breakfast was over I hurried to the English Embassy, and
there securing files of the London papers looked eagerly and nervously
through them. To my intense relief I saw there was nothing in them.
Therefore, I knew all was serene in London and that the Old Lady was
without doubt giving out sovereigns by the tens of thousands for us.
Very much relieved in mind I returned to the hotel, and we set out to
see Madrid.
CHAPTER XXIX.
I WATCH THE PYRENEES SINK IN THE SEA, THEN SAIL O'ER GREEN NEPTUNE'S
BACK.
It was 11 o'clock when we started. The streets were thronged, and the
throngs moving in one direction. That was to the street lined on both
sides with churches, whose doors were flung wide open to the surging
masses. We went with the current and entered a famous church which was
crowded with the pious, their souls rapt in their devotion. Like all
European churches, there were no seats, but the audience, closely
packed, knelt or stood. We joined the worshipers, but looked around with
curious eyes. When the prayers were ended the street was one living mass
of people, all moving toward the outskirts of the town. We went with the
tide, and with the tide entered the arena, where a bull fight was
on--curious transition from church to arena. It was a great sight--I
mean that of seeing the people--there were 15,000 present in that
amphitheatre. It looked just like the old Roman arena, and to us was in
all its details intensely interesting.
On Monday we visited the picture galleries and museums, and on Tuesday
we got our baggage down to the depot once more, and purchasing our
tickets we were off for Santander. I was too anxious to enjoy the
scenery. We were a day and a night on the journey, and arriving on
Wednesday I still had before me three days of anxiety.
Being thoroughly sick of Spain, I longed to be on blue water with our
good ship's prow pointed to the Western World. Then I felt I could begin
to enjoy life. I had a charming wife--delightful companion--and once up
anchor all my haunting fears would die, and life's pleasures would be
mine to the full. But there in Santander the time dragged wearily. To be
sure, I had the English papers, but they were nearly a week on the way,
and a bad conscience finds many a cause for fear. I was aching to be
aboard. Saturday came at last, and going early down to the headland at
the harbor's mouth, with my field glass I anxiously scanned the Bay of
Biscay to see if I could discern anywhere on the horizon the smoke of
the approaching steamer. Lingering there until the dinner hour, I
hastened to the hotel.
My wife was merry and happy. I was glad to see her so, and found it
difficult to conceal my solicitude. Going both together to the headland
we spent most of the afternoon there. Night and then midnight came, and
no steamer's lights flashed in the dark waters of the bay. Heartsick and
anxious I went to bed, half resolved to take my wife into my confidence,
tell her in some measure the truth, and point out to her the necessity
of my taking flight, leaving her to follow at her leisure. It would have
been a terrible shock to her, but I began to fear that the truth would
come to her ears some time.
Early the next morning my servant awoke me, asking me to look out of the
window. I ran to it, and looking out, there in the bay, just in front of
the hotel, lay a steamer of the largest size and magnificent in her
beauty. It was a happy sight for me.
Nunn hired a boat for our luggage and a second for me, and then, after a
hurried breakfast, we boarded the steamer, Nunn following with the
baggage. Among other things I had a favorite dressing case, and had
given the servant strict orders to keep it under his eye, but as soon as
he came aboard he inquired in great agitation if I had brought it off
with me. Upon my saying no he was quite overcome, at the same time
explaining that he had laid it on top of the baggage in front of the
hotel, and some one had stolen it. While he was speaking a passenger
came walking by with the identical case in his hand. Nunn flew at the
man and seized both him and the bag, and sure enough he had the thief,
but I ordered him to let the man go, and he went away shamefaced enough.
He little thought when stealing the bag that the owner was going on the
same steamer. At last we were afloat, and now I was all eagerness to
hear the steam monkey start to bring the anchor a-peak. It is simply
amazing how a bad conscience "moldeth goblins swift as frenzy's
thought." Even as I stood there I was not at rest, but was impatient and
suspicious of every movement from the shore. As the long day dragged
slowly on and 4 o'clock came, preparations for getting under way were
going rapidly forward. I took my field glasses, stationed myself on the
after deck and anxiously scrutinized every boat leaving the shore.
Suddenly a boat started out from the head of the bay, pulled steadily by
eight rowers, and my conscience told me it meant danger, but the boatmen