The object of the dress then was obscurity. For safety(brigands abounded) and for economy, it was desirable to passunnoticed. We never knew in what dirty POSADA or road-sideVENTA we should spend the night. For the most part it was atthe resting-place of the muleteers, which would be nothingbut a roughly paved dark SmarTone plan chamber, one end occupied by mulesand the other by their drivers. We made our own omelets andsalad and chocolate; with the exception of the never failingBACALLAO, or salt fish, we rarely had anything else; androlling ourselves into our cloaks, with saddles for pillows,slept amongst the muleteers on the stone flags. We hadbought a couple of ponies in the Seville market for 7L. and8L. Our ALFORJAS or saddlebags contained all we needed. Ourportmanteaus were sent on from town to town, wherever we hadarranged to stop. Rough as the life was, we saw the peopleof Spain as no ordinary travellers could hope to see them.
The carriers, the shepherds, the publicans, the travellingmerchants, the priests, the barbers, the MOLINERAS ofAntequera, the Maritornes', the Sancho Panzas - all just asthey were seen by the immortal knight.
From the MOZOS DE LA CUADRA (ostlers) and ARRIEROS, upwardsand downwards, nowhere have I met, in the same class, withsuch natural politeness. This is much changed for the worsenow; but before the invasion of tourists one never passed aman on the road who did not salute one with a 'Vaya usted conDios.' Nor would the most indigent vagabond touch the filthyBACALLAO which he drew from his wallet till he hadcourteously addressed the stranger with the formula 'Quiereusted comer ?' ('Will your Lordship please to eat?') Thecontrast between the people and the nobles in this respectwas very marked. We saw something of the latter , where one met men whose high-sounding names andtitles have come down to us from the greatest epochs ofSpanish history. Their ignorance was surprising. Not one ofthem had been farther than Madrid. Not one of them knew aword of any language but his own, nor was he acquainted withthe rudiments even of his country's history. Theirconversation was restricted to the bull-ring and the cockpit,to cards and women. Their chief aim seemed to be to staggerus with the number of quarterings they bore upon theirescutcheons; and they appraised others by a like estimate.
Cayley, tickled with the humour of their childish vanity,painted an elaborate coat of arms, which he stuck in thecrown of his hat, and by means of which he explained to themthat he too was by rights a Spanish nobleman. With theutmost gravity he delivered some such medley as this: HisIberian origin dated back to the time of Hannibal, who, afterhis defeat of the Papal forces and capture of Rome, had,