in them up to the axles, and bridges across the streams seem to be the exception rather than the rule. The old lumbering diligence, which elsewhere has

place in front of all a bench for two drivers, harness to it by ropes any number of mules and horses from six upwards, and a tolerable imitation of the Spanish diligence will have been produced. A postilion rides on and manages the front pair. The mayoral or conductor and the coachman drive those which follow. The coachman gets down at frequent intervals to flog the animals which are beyond the reach of his whip, and to fill his pockets with stones. Jumping back to his perch in front, whilst the machine is at full speed, he keeps up a volley of missiles at the indolent or refractory members of his team till his pockets are emptied, when he again alights for a fresh store of ammunition. After a few days' or even hours' experience of travelling by what is gratuitously miscalled a diligence, one is in a condition to appreciate the luxury of a railway carriage, even though it be a Spanish

railway. It is with aching limbs and joints wellnigh dislocated that the tourist reaches Villafranca, and takes his place by ferro carril to Palencia, where he joins the main line direct from Paris to Madrid.

Full of interest as are the north-western provinces of Spain, it is but a small proportion of tourists who are dis

posed to spare the time or endure the fatigue needful for their exploration. The great majority of travellers keep to the railway, which soon after leaving Bayonne and passing Biarritz crosses the frontier at Hendaye. Here or at Irun the baggage has to pass through the custom-house for examination. The Spanish official is not very troublesome or exacting. Perhaps he pries less curiously and suspiciously into the contents of a portmanteau than is done

SPANISH CUSTOM-HOUSE.

elsewhere. But his slow dogged imperturbability is more irritating than the vivacious impertinence of the French douanier, or the boorish rudeness of our English custom-house officer. The traveller, eager to snatch a hasty mouthful of food at the buffet, is shut up for an indefinite time in the sala de descanso— a bare, dirty, draughty room, without seats or furniture of any kind-waiting the leisure of the officials. The door being at length opened into the despacho de los equipages, the crowd rush headlong in and find the luggage laid out on long tables. Each man must discover his own belongings, get them together, open them, and again wait the convenience and pleasure of the custom-house officers, who are probably smoking and gossiping in the middle of the room. The Frenchman manifests his impatience at the delay by voluble complaints

and incessant grimacing; the Englishman thumps loudly upon the table, and shouts "Holloa, look here;" the Spaniard, accustomed to such detentions, lights another cigarette and smokes the pipe of patience, on the carpet of resignation, beneath the canopy of tranquillity. After awhile it seems to occur to one of the gentry in the middle of the room that it may be well to examine some of the baggage. He comes listlessly forward, thrusts his hand to the bottom of a valise, turns out its promiscuous contents, nods his approval, and rejoins his companions, regardless of the impatient protests of the waiting crowd. Another and another of the officials suddenly wakes up to a sense of his duty. Some

times half a dozen travellers in succession are let off with a hasty glance, then an unlucky wight sees his boots, shoes, collars, shirts, and writing materials littered in a confused heap on the floor. At length the search is concluded, and the train goes on its way.

The defiles of the lower Pyrenees are soon reached, and we are in a district over which for more than a thousand years the tide of battle has flowed. Victorious or defeated armies-Gallic, Roman, Goth, Moor, Spanish, French, British-have poured through these narrow valleys, or done desperate battle amongst these rugged hills. Here

And here, when ten centuries have passed away, the Bidassoa was crossed at Fuenterabia, and the Duke of Wellington fought his last battle on the soil of Spain.

We are now entering the Basque provinces, and come into contact with a race of people distinct not only from the rest of Spain but from the rest of Europe. Their language has no affinities with any Aryan dialect. It has, however, so many points of resemblance to the Finnish, as to afford support to the conjecture that it represents the language of an aboriginal race who peopled Europe before the Celtic invasion, and who have been pushed back and swept aside by race after race till at last only these two obscure vestiges remain of what was probably the earliest of the existing populations of the Continent. That the language is exceedingly difficult to acquire and to pronounce may gathered from the Andalusian proverb that "The Basques write Solomon, and pronounce it Nebuchadnezzar."

be

These linguistic and ethnological peculiarities have always kept the Basques

* So say_the_romantic and legendary chronicles of the middle ages, in which the "dolorous rout" of Roncesvalles plays so important a part. Stripped of its fictitious adornments, the true history of the battle seems to be as follows: Charlemagne, remembering the danger with which the Moors in Spain had recently threatened Europe, led two armies across the Pyrenees in the spring of 778, and gained important successes over the Moslems. In the autumn of the same year he returned to France. The Christians of the Pyrenees, who were more jealous of their Frank than of their Mohammedan neighbours, together with some of the Moorish chiefs, concerted an attack upon the retiring army as it repassed their mountains. An ambuscade was formed in the dense forests which clothe the steep and rugged rocks through which the valley of Roncesvalles winds. The main body, commanded by the king in person, was allowed to pass unassailed; but when the rear-guard, in charge of the baggage, and under the command of the gallant Rutland, or Roland, or Orlando, as the name is variously spelt, were toiling up the narrow and tortuous defile, the mountaineers rushed upon them from their concealed fastnesses. The Franks made a desperate but vain resistance. They were slain almost to a man, the baggage was plundered, and the assailants dispersed with the spoil to their mountain strongholds before even the tidings of the attack could reach the king. When he did hear of what had happened, he at once retraced his steps, but it was too late.

te

THE BASQUES.

apart from the rest of Europe. They have little intercourse with either their French or their Spanish neighbours. They retain a proud independence of all foreign control, and refuse to submit either to regular taxation or to a military conscription. In lieu of these they furnish an annual voluntary subsidy and contingent to the Spanish government. Though bigoted Roman Catholics, they retain many pagan usages in their worship, such as offerings of food on the tombs of deceased friends, for the use of the departed spirit. Lord Carnarvon waxes enthusiastic in their praise. He describes them as trained to habits of self-reliance by centuries of self-government; freemen in spirit, not in name only; drinking in with their mothers' milk a love of justice and a reverence for law; in thought sober, yet independent, and wholly without fear, except the honest fear of doing wrong; models of ancient manners, and not unfrequently of manly beauty; faithful friends, generous hosts, simple, yet inflexible observers of their word."

For the following interesting, graphic, and truthful sketches of a brief residence amongst the Basques we are indebted to Miss E. J. Whately.

"On Wednesday morning we went over San Sebastian, and saw what there is to be seen there: a beautiful view of sea and rounded cliffs, not unlike Howth Head, and a fine sweep of sandy beach; a cheerful marketplace, where I stood and sketched two or three old women with long streamers and orange handkerchiefs; and a church, where a confirmation was going on, which gave us an opportunity of seeing a number of the people of the cityladies in mantillas. Many of them came from real Spain: slight, graceful figures; splendid, glossy black hair, really like a raven's wing, and exquisitely arranged, with the light net fall of the mantilla down over it, and hanging over the face; bright eyes, and a general effective look, making them seem prettier than, when studied, they really were, though many were in fact exceedingly handsome. The lower order, with long plaits hanging down their backs, were a very good-looking race, and with a most agreeable, intelligent expression. At eleven o'clock we left San Sebastian, and a pleasant drive of two or three hours brought us to a little village, where the horses baited.

LADY WITH MANTILLA.

"Here we spent two hours, and this was the way we employed them :We walked down to the beach, where bold rocks stood out against the broad Atlantic, whose waves came with a rolling dash up on the smooth sands, giving promise of what they would do when lashed into rage.

Then we sat

down to eat bread and cold chicken, and to be watched by a whole bevy of handsome, barefooted children, seemingly just out of school, some carrying babies, and altogether making a party of twelve or fourteen at least, full of curiosity to see the strangers; for I suppose English, or indeed any travellers, are not very common. At first we felt it a little troublesome to be so surrounded; but we soon found that these Basque children were so wellbehaved that they did not worry us. They asked for nothing, and only sat watching our proceedings, and, on receiving bread and bits of biscuit, divided them without roughness or scrambling. They chattered in Basque to

Some

each other; but all understood Spanish except the very little ones. of the girls of ten and twelve were lovely little creatures, with sweet, intelligent black eyes and lissom figures. I began a sketch of some of the party (to get all into a group would have required longer time than I had to give). A dear little black-eyed damsel, with a baby brother in the usual swaddling-clothes of this region (i.e. a yellow cloth skirt and a heap of promiscuous jackets bound together with red or brown festooned ribbons), sat opposite me, and, with three or four more boys with blue and red berrets, and little girls in charming variety of striped and coloured garments, made a pleasant picture, and gave great delight. One big lad of thirteen was sent to fetch some water for us to drink, and showed much intelligence and most courteous