This had entailed upon him a number of just claims upon government,
that I feared would employ him until his dying day in writing and
printing petitions and memorials, to the great disquiet of his mind,
exhaustion of his purse, and penance of his friends; not one of whom
could visit him without having to listen to a mortal document of
half an hour in length, and to carry away half a dozen pamphlets in
his pocket. This, however, is the case throughout Spain; every where
you meet with some worthy wight brooding in a corner, and nursing up
some pet grievance and cherished wrong. Besides, a Spaniard who has
a lawsuit, or a claim upon government, may be considered as
furnished with employment for the remainder of his life.
I visited the veteran in his quarters in the upper part of the Torre
del Vino, or Wine Tower. His room was small but snug, and commanded
a beautiful view of the Vega. It was arranged with a soldier's
precision. Three muskets and a brace of pistols, all bright and
shining, were suspended against the wall, with a sabre and a cane
hanging side by side, and above them, two cocked hats, one for parade,
and one for ordinary use. A small shelf, containing some half dozen
books, formed his library, one of which, a little old mouldy volume of
philosophical maxims, was his favorite reading. This he thumbed and
pondered over day by day; applying every maxim to his own particular
case, provided it had a little tinge of wholesome bitterness, and
treated of the injustice of the world.
Pages:
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357