ALLONS donc, en route for the Balearic Isles, or the Baleares, the birth-place of the great Hannibal, and for Palma, the capital, situated in the south-western portion of the island of Majorca.

"Minora canamus," says the Latin poet.

"Majorca canamus," say we.

"IbiÇa, Majorca, and Minorca are islands belonging to Spain, lying to the east of that country, in the Mediterranean. From them the ancient Romans enlisted into their armies the famous Balearic slingers, who were compelled to strike their meals from the roofs of their houses before they were allowed to eat them." This is what everyone learns by rote at school, and after he leaves it—when the pupil is supposed to have finished his education, a thing at once very easy and very difficult to accomplish,—the islands are never mentioned or dreamt of again during life.

Behold us, then, starting for this terra incognita of Majorca, [25] that remote and unfortunate region to which Mr. Murray has never wandered, and of which Bradshaw has never sung. In fact, before sailing we almost began to doubt the propriety of venturing to a place so far beyond the bounds of civilisation as to be beneath the notice of these gentlemen. Although our fears scarcely went so far as to imagine that these islands were among those localities, of which we had read so much in our youth, inhabited by dancing savages with plumes of feathers in their heads, stuck all over with scalping knives and tomahawks, and who prefer human blood to any other beverage, still we did not know to what inconveniences, to what hard-ships, we might be exposed in a place to which we had never heard the slightest allusion made by any one, probably because nothing good could be said of it. However, we were in for it, PrÊt d'accomplir, as the Earls of Shrewsbury say, and so we were off for the Balearic capital; and we intend to speak most impartially of Palma, not forgetting the apt, though hackneyed quotation, Palmam qui meruit ferat.

The illustrious steam-ship El Rey Jayme II, [26] of 150 tons, a vessel reputed tolerably safe, steamed in a truly Spanish and stately manner out of the harbour. The Mediterranean was like a lake, as indeed it is; and as the hours waned, the western sky blushed down in one vast flaming glory upon the long purple line of the Valencian mountains, which rose in lofty majesty along the retiring coast of the Spanish peninsula, now dimly and indistinctly seen. The day fell softly, as all that is most beautiful must fall.

And so the land vanished from view, and we were alone on the deck on one of those calm and beautiful nights which naturally dispose the mind to meditation. The stars, sparkling like gems of silver on the brow of night, were reflected in the transparent waters of the Mediterranean, where they flashed like jewels in the dark tresses of an Eastern maiden. Lines of phosphoric light marked our course as the prow of the ship cut through the sapphire sea, and were reflected, as it were, in the depths of the heavenly ocean above by the broad opal zone of the milky way, which gleamed with inconceivable lustre.

This is all very fine when the weather is fair and the sea calm; but it is very difficult to be romantic when suffering from sea-sickness, and there was no knowing how painfully prosy we might become ere the two hundred miles of sea, which we had to traverse before we could reach our destination, were passed. At the outset of this little voyage, we could well imagine "the exemplary youth" in the story books asking all sorts of appropriate questions, thus:—

"And so, sir, this is the Mediterranean?" the young Arthur might be supposed to say to his aged tutor.

"Yes, my boy," that learned man might reply, with tears in his eyes at the thought that all his care and solicitude for his pupil should at last be so well repaid by this instance of precocious intelligence, showing that the seed he had sown had borne ample fruit. "Yes, my boy, this indeed is that tideless and lovely sea which has ever presented a problem to the man of science, and a subject for the poet's verse."

But in about four hours after our departure, neither the exemplary youth nor the aged tutor would have been in any very eager mood for edifying question and instructive answer. A howling gale came on, and people, becoming perfectly green in the face, arose one by one from the supper table in a manner they had assumed as remarkably easy and graceful, assuring everybody that they never felt better in their lives, and then disappeared entirely from the vision of their fellow-travellers, and in most cases fellow-sufferers. One old lady, indeed, looked as if she were going to say every moment,—

"I think, captain, as the ship is so very unsteady I would rather get out."

However, some use is generally to be found in everything, and to a person who wishes to stretch a pair of new canvas shoes, that they may be easier on his feet, there is no surer mode than that of walking the deck in a gale of wind.

The sun rose upon us next day in a flood of warm and cloudless glory, and, as his rays chased away the last dark clouds of night in the west, we observed rising before us from the sea, though yet at some distance, the rugged coast of Majorca. Though we could not yet distinguish the wild scenery for which the island is remarkable,—that varied landscape of plain, rock, and gorge,—we could distinctly perceive the noble range of lofty mountains in the centre, invisible at their base, but with their white peaks piercing the high heavens. Steadily the ship cleaved its way through the tranquil sea, until, upon rounding a rocky headland, a distant city, of somewhat Eastern aspect, appeared, the most prominent object being a temple of great dimensions rising in the midst. We could also trace the white line of its stone ramparts; after which our eyes rested with pleasure on terraces of shining houses, and on tapering spires, all glittering in the sun, and reflected in the clear mirror beneath in lines of pointed light. This was Palma de Mallorca, capital of the Spanish province of Las Islas Baleares. Its white houses looked like a brood of white sea-birds sitting on the waters, while away in the distance beyond, cutting soft and clear against the sunny air, were the high jagged mountain range and highlands of Majorca.

As we gradually neared the land, we saw some beautiful villages nestling amidst green plantations, and villas crowning the heights of verdant slopes. On we glided, past the ruined walls of the ancient Roman, where, from tower to tower, great chains were fixed to protect the mouth of the harbour, and past crumbling forts, built by the warlike Moor. A few more turns of the clumsy paddles, and the ship is brought to her moorings in a pretty harbour, in which there appeared to be considerable activity, for it was filled with shipping of various nations. The city rose like an amphitheatre from the shore, and the hills behind it were clothed with an abundant growth of olive-trees.

We landed amongst a motley crowd of semi-Arabic sailors, donkey-boys, and soldiers. Fortunately for us, we had no acquaintance among several affectionate gentlemen waiting for their friends, upon whom they precipitated themselves with the most extravagant marks of affection as soon as they landed, kissing them all over their stubbly faces. We had to undergo, as usual, the process of luggage-searching, though not with the usual result, for we were found to have contravened the laws of the aduana. An ordinary Valencian knife, which we had bought to take home as a curiosity, being found in our trunk, we were taken for contrabandistas, and being immediately formed into a procession, headed by a man bearing the fatal corpus delicti, amidst a chorus of such exclamations as "Caramba, vamonos, vamonos!" were placed as prisoners between a couple of blood-thirsty looking aduaneros, and led off to the aduana, or custom-house. Here we were brought up before a severe-looking official, with, as usual, a cigarette in his mouth, from which the smoke was streaming out in clouds, as well as from his nostrils. This gentleman, whose voice was loud, and his manner quick and jerky, darted out several questions in Mallorquin, the meaning of which we but imperfectly understood. "Somos InglÉs" suddenly, however, struck us as being a brilliant thing to say, and we said it, our friend at the same time making the rash linguistic attempt to add in Spanish, "Cuanto hay que pagar. Donde estÁ el consul InglÉs?"

We waited to see what result would follow these experiments. The official, with a severe aspect,—not assumed, for it was natural to him,—took out of his pocket a great knife, and began to pare his nails, after the accomplishment of which task he surveyed them with satisfaction, and turned to some other officials, whom he addressed. They conferred together in a knot in a corner of the room, all talking at once with the most wonderful velocity at the top of their voices. A sign was then made to us by the chief to be silent. At the same time, one of his myrmidons went out, and in half-an-hour returned with an order from the English Consul for our liberation. The same person also brought information from that gentleman which seemed greatly to calm their minds, inasmuch as it assured them that we were not, after all, dangerous conspirators come from England, that hot-bed of revolution, to commence an insurrection, and spread fire, death, and desolation throughout Her Catholic Majesty's provinces. We were then politely allowed to go about our business—a permission of which we immediately availed ourselves.

The first thing we did was to start in search of a fonda, with a couple of brown boys in red caps carrying our boxes. After passing along the strong-looking ramparts, and through one or two clean, picturesque streets, in which were some mosque-like buildings turned into barracks, we went under a ruined arch, through which, as in a frame, was seen a beautiful glimpse of distant plains and cloud-capped mountains. We then pulled up at a whitewashed building, which, we were informed, was an establishment entitled La Fonda de las Tres Palomas, so named after one of the peculiarities of Palma, and, indeed, of most towns of Oriental descent, viz., the pigeons which are seen everywhere whirling about in the air and walking in the streets, completely tame and unmolested.

The Hotel of the Three Pigeons, although tolerably clean, was lamentably deficient in matters of comfort. The bedrooms were simply whitewashed cells. A narrow bedstead, with a mattress stuffed with the leaves of Indian corn, one chair, and a little slender iron tripod, about three feet high, holding a diminutive basin, constituted the furniture. When the British mania for ablution occasionally overtook us, a pint of brown warm water was brought carefully in a coffee-pot, and poured slowly, as if it were molten gold, into the little basin; while the waiter waited to see what we should do with it, and how apply it for personal use. And well he might; for he seemed to be rather a stranger to the process himself. The saloon and reading-room of the hotel was the kitchen; and there the guests assisted at the cooking of their meals, which, however, was, perhaps, about the best thing they could do, as, upon one occasion, the chef, in his anxious desire to please, entirely lost his presence of mind, and was about to boil the woodcocks we had ordered for dinner. Why, at the fondas of Majorca, one should find the napkins which ought to be used at dinner placed on the washing-stand for the purposes of ablution, and the towels which should be upon the washing-stand placed on the plates at the dinner-table, will probably remain a mystery, of which it would be vain to seek for any explanation.

We spent a lively night or two in the Hotel of the Three Pigeons, occupying many weary hours in sharp combat with a very active and relentless enemy, the morning finding us covered with the marks of the fray. Any individual of a lethargic temperament, or troubled with slow circulation, to whom such stimulants as the bracing sea air, cold baths, rough towels, &c., are recommended, we should simply advise to pass two or three nights on one of these mattresses. The effect is electrifying, and can only be compared to a sort of intermittent galvanism; and as sleep is not generally found under such conditions, we have no doubt the mattresses in question would in America be called eye-openers, or slumber-worriers. However, when the patient has sufficiently undergone the stimulating process, he may arrest the galvanic action by simply supplying himself with a strong light and a piece of damp soap. He must remain for a few minutes perfectly still, until he perceives that his limbs are assuming a darker hue,—a hue dark with moving multitudes,—when he should apply the soap freely to them, continuing the application until the said soap becomes brown and speckly.

The city of Palma is of considerable dimensions, and contains a population of fifty-two thousand persons. Like all modern towns which rise over the ruins of the past, it is uneven and hilly, a peculiarity which adds much to the general picturesqueness of the street scenery. Built on a slope which rises immediately from the sea, and surrounded by the massive stone ramparts of Philip III., it occupies a strong position. The marks of decay, however, are now everywhere visible. The streets are silent, and the walls of palace and fortress are dropping piece-meal into ruin. Palma was built upon the site of an ancient Roman city of the same name—and its appellation may have been suggested by the palm-trees once abounding there, a few of which still rise gracefully here and there from the terraces and gardens.

Nine hundred years before the Christian era, the Balearic Isles, or GymnesiÆ, were peopled by the Greeks. They then fell into the power of the Carthaginians; and, in due course, beneath the sway of Rome. It was Quintus Cecilius Metellus who, a hundred years before the Christian era, founded the city of Palma; and he was honoured by the title of Balearicus for his conquest of the three islands. The fame of the warlike prowess of the hardy islanders had reached the ears of the Roman Consul, and, as a defence against the slings and balistas with which he knew he should have to contend upon landing, Metellus caused his galleys to be armour-plated with thick hides and skins, a precaution which saved many of his ships and men from destruction. The flower of the island youth became then absorbed in the Roman armies, and it was mainly to the Balearic slingers that Rome herself owed many a victory.

As time passes on, we find the Moors holding the islands in subjection for a space of four hundred years. On the last day of the year 1229, however, Don Jayme, King of Aragon, having, with his fleet, weathered a fearful storm—an event most trying to the faith of his crusaders, and critical to the future of Majorca—landed with his Christian host, and encamped a few miles from the city. On the morning following, the Holy Sacrament was administered to the Soldiers of the Cross, who, burning with sacred zeal and inspired with the ardour of conquerors, marched with horse and foot upon the foe, led by the young king shouting his battle-cry of "Advance, ye braves! By your arms alone the Lord delivers yon country from the grasp of the Infidel. Forward!" As the Christian army, however, upon nearing the enemy, looked upon their great numbers and formidable position, their hearts seemed to fail. Observing this, the chivalrous Don Jayme rode out alone to an open space between the opposing hosts, and, crying aloud to the Virgin to inspire with courage the hearts of her warriors, he bent the knee in fervent prayer. Filled at once with feelings of shame, admiration, and zeal, the leading ranks rushed on to the breach, with a loud cry of "Sancta Maria!" and, in a few hours, over piles of mingled dead, Moor and Christian, amongst the smoke of burning houses, and the dust and roar of battle, the Christian banner floated over the city of Palma. So here again we may say,

"Palmam qui meruit ferat."

Looking at the city from the sea, it has a very Oriental appearance. This peculiarity is produced by the flat-roofed houses and bare, yellow walls, with the cactus and prickly pear growing against them, the minaret-like steeples and mosque-like buildings, the light arcades and trellis-work of the dwelling-houses, together with the frequent palm, the long bamboo, and the fig growing in all directions. Nothing can be more agreeable than to lounge in the mellow evening along the broad ramparts, against which the blue waters gently splash, and to gaze upon the high mountain range, seen afar off, with the rocky summits tinged with a pinkish hue by the reflection of the sun's declining rays. This walk is the Rambla, or public promenade, on which, although the dire chignon is, we fear, beginning to exhibit its deformity, one may meet with many a lovely daughter of the South draped in the black lace shawl and the graceful mantilla. Amongst the female peasants, a peculiar form of head-dress is adopted, called the RebosiÑo, more quaint, we think, than elegant. It consists of a stiff frill radiating from the head and face, while from the nape of the neck depends a single long plait of hair, which is caught in with the sash encircling the waist. In fact, the entire costume is very similar to that of many of the Swiss cantons. The male peasant dons a simple goat-skin, very wide knickerbockers, linen leggings, sandals, and red cap or hat with a broad brim.

Near to Palma is a fine old stone pile of Moorish fashion, built by Don Jayme I. (El Conquistador), to commemorate the conquest of Majorca; and, further on, occupying a fine position amongst orange-groves, and upon a gentle slope overlooking the Mediterranean, is Bendinat, the handsome palace of the MarquÉs de Romano; so called in Catalan, or old ProvenÇal, from the fact of the Conquistador having dined well on that spot after he gained his victory.

The language of the island is Mallorquin, which is simply a slight corruption of Catalan. The Catalan language and the old ProvenÇal were, at the period of the conquest of Barcelona from the Moors, nearly identical. It was introduced into the Baleares by the King of Aragon, Don Jayme, at the period of his conquest of Majorca. As, however, education has of late made great progress in these islands, no less than on the mainland, and is conducted upon excellent principles, the classical language of Spain, the pure Castilian, is now everywhere taught, and the teaching of provincial patois is prohibited. The connection of the crown of Aragon with that of Castile having formed the basis of the Spanish monarchy, it will be easily understood how the two languages, the Castilian and the Catalan, are, in a great measure, blended together. The Castilian, however, while still preserving its high finish, purity, and elegance, owes much of its force to the bold, nervous tongue of the old warlike race of Aragon.

As one wanders through the narrow streets of Palma, he remarks frequent vestiges of the Saracenic period, besides many sombre mediÆval palaces of Gothic architecture grafted on the Moorish style, in perfect preservation, forming of themselves cool, well-shaded streets. Their faÇades are fretted with arabesque devices borrowed from the East, while the armorial bearings of their once knightly or merchant possessors still indicate by whom they were occupied. Their tall, arched windows are all supported by twisted pillarets, while the ornate sky-lines are generally battlemented. We peered beneath many low, broad archways in these narrow, silent streets, as we passed along, and discovered several elegant square patios and marble courts, with carved fountains in the midst, the spray from which diffused a delightful coolness. Around the four walls of these courts are arcaded terraces, canopied with arches crossing and recrossing each other, and rising from light spiral columns of the most elegant appearance; while the whole is supported beneath by greater and nobler arches of rare device, resting on massive columns, with shaft and capital chased with rich and elaborate carving. The evidence of great former opulence is found throughout the city in the splendid relics of Saracenic architecture, or in those numerous palaces of vast size, with their marble staircases and traceried balustrades. The magnificent relics of the past tell plainly of the once flourishing condition of Majorca and its capital, whether as the home of the Moor, as the abode and settlement of the numerous knightly followers of the royal conqueror, Don Jayme, or as the residence of luxurious merchant princes who made this fair isle their home and the dÉpÔt of their argosies, at the period when the Baleares were in the full highway to the gorgeous East, before Vasco da Gama had discovered the route to the Indies by the Cape of Good Hope. [27] Buildings of surpassing beauty—especially the Lonja, overlooking the harbour, once the exchange, or bourse, and place of public meeting of these busy communities, and the style of which is the most exquisite Gothic—attest the former combination of taste and opulence existing amongst them.

Amidst the habitations of the lower classes we always found the modern buildings raised upon the broken ruins of Moorish structures; and the substrata of Moorish masonry never having been reduced to any general level, there is an aspect of inequality, a rise and fall in all the lines of the town, from whatever point it be observed, which is most picturesque. Valetta, perhaps, is the only other city whose general appearance is similar in this respect. Decay, however, is speeding on with rapid though stealthy pace, and these remnants of the past must soon disappear.

The city is surrounded by fortifications; but the most modern in use—those of Philip II.—though still massive, would be, notwithstanding the show of garrison within, as effete against an enemy as the Saracenic works, now crumbling away, upon which they are built.

Although visited by occasional tempests, which gather amongst the highlands and sweep over the island, Majorca enjoys a most luxuriant climate. The sun looks down throughout the year from a heaven of serenest blue. The great heat of the southern summer is tempered by the fresh sea breeze, and the verdant mountain slopes and valleys offer a cool and shady protection from the rays of a powerful sun. The soil of the plains is rich, and, cultivated by the industry of the hardy island race, yields most luxuriant crops of corn and flax, while the orange, olive, and the carob grow in the wildest luxuriance.

During the summer there is a great scarcity of water; but the rains of autumn and winter are collected for the irrigation of the land in enormous reservoirs, which contain sufficient water to last throughout the dry season. Each landholder has his fields then flooded in turn, at certain intervals, upon payment of a water-rate. The fertility of the island, coupled with the honesty and industry of the inhabitants, renders living cheap; and beyond the walls of the semi-Spanish capital, extortion, even in the faintest form, is unknown throughout the length and breadth of Majorca.

The peasantry and the owners of the soil live on terms of the greatest amity and contentment. The distinction of class is recognised in no way that produces the slightest bitterness or heartburnings. For long years the happy islanders, separated from the rest of the world, have regarded each other as one family. They seem to care little, and even to know little, of other nations, or even of the country of which their island is one of the provinces. Absorbed in their patriarchal mode of existence, estranged in their habits and mode of life from their fellow-subjects of the peninsula, the simple islanders know nothing of the want, the sufferings, and the crimes which have too frequently thrown a gloom over the history of larger, more enlightened, and more civilised communities.

In this small and peaceful island each one regards his neighbour with a trust that is rarely betrayed. There is a constant state of contentment, disturbed by no unreasonable desires. Humble competence, won by honest labour, well and persistently done, is all that is necessary to satisfy these simple people.