Yes, there lies the hero, almost within sight of the glorious hill where he turned upon his pursuers like a lion at bay and terminated his career.  Many acquire immortality without seeking it, and die before its first ray has gilded their name; of these was Moore.  The harassed general, flying through Castile with his dispirited troops before a fierce and terrible enemy, little dreamed that he was on the point of attaining that for which many a better, greater, though certainly not braver man, had sighed in vain.  His very misfortunes were the means which secured him immortal fame; his disastrous route, bloody death, and finally his tomb on a foreign strand, far from kin and friends.  There is scarcely a Spaniard but has heard of this tomb, and speaks of it with a strange kind of awe.  Immense treasures are said to have been buried with the heretic general, though for what purpose no one pretends to guess.  The demons of the clouds, if we may trust the Gallegans, followed the English in their flight, and assailed them with water-spouts as they toiled up the steep winding paths of Fuencebadon; whilst legends the most wild are related of the manner in which the stout soldier fell.  Yes, even in Spain, immortality has already crowned the head of Moore;—­Spain, the land of oblivion, where the Guadalete {16} flows.

CHAPTER XXVII

Compostella—­Rey Romero—­The Treasure-seeker—­Hopeful Project—­The Church of Refuge—­Hidden Riches—­The Canon—­Spirit of Localism—­The Leper—­Bones of St. James.

At the commencement of August, I found myself at St. James of Compostella.  To this place I travelled from Coruna with the courier or weekly post, who was escorted by a strong party of soldiers, in consequence of the distracted state of the country, which was overrun with banditti.  From Coruna to St. James, the distance is but ten leagues; the journey, however, endured for a day and a half.  It was a pleasant one, through a most beautiful country, with a rich variety of hill and dale; the road was in many places shaded with various kinds of trees clad in most luxuriant foliage.  Hundreds of travellers, both on foot and on horseback, availed themselves of the security which the escort afforded:  the dread of banditti was strong.  During the journey two or three alarms were given; we, however, reached Saint James without having been attacked.

Saint James stands on a pleasant level amidst mountains:  the most extraordinary of these is a conical hill, called the Pico Sacro, or Sacred Peak, connected with which are many wonderful legends.  A beautiful old town is Saint James, containing about twenty thousand inhabitants.  Time has been when, with the single exception of Rome, it was the most celebrated resort of pilgrims in the world; its cathedral being said to contain the bones of Saint James the elder, the child of the thunder, who, according to the legend of the Romish church, first preached the Gospel in Spain.  Its glory, however, as a place of pilgrimage is rapidly passing away.