he property
and the sacrifice of the lives of aliens. Cosas de Espana.

CHAPTER III.

Expansion of Carlism--A Pseudo-Democracy--Historic Land and Water
Marks--An Impudent Stowaway--Spanish Respect for Providence--A
Fatal Signal--Playing with Fire--Across the Bay--Farewell to
Andalusia--British Spain.

TOWARDS the close of February, a grave official report was published in
the _Gaceta_ of Madrid, announcing that an engagement had been fought
with the Carlists and a victory scored, _one_ of the enemy having been
killed. We were now in April, some six weeks later, and Carlism still
showed lively signs of existence, notwithstanding the death of that
solitary combatant. The statement of the troops employed against it will
be the best measure of its importance. These consisted of a battalion
and two companies of Engineers, four companies of Foot Artillery, a
battery of Horse and five batteries of Mountain Artillery; eight
squadrons of Cuirassiers, seven of Lancers, four of Hussars, a section
of Mounted Chasseurs (Tiradores), and eighteen battalions of Infantry of
the line, with five of Cazadores, or light infantry. Behind this force
of regulars were the Francos or Free-shooters of Navarre (who were about
as good as their prototypes, the _francs-tireurs_ of France--no better),
some mobilized Volunteers, and the Carabineros, or revenue police. There
were some who imagined that the hosts of Don Carlos might crown the
hills of Vallecas, and present themselves before the gate of Atocha to
the consternation of Madrid, as did those of his predecessor in the
September of 1837. But the Federals of the south did not mind. What did
not touch them, they cared not a jot for. They were of the
pseudo-democracy which wants to live without working, consume without
producing, obtain posts without being trained for them, and arrive at
honours without desert--the selfish and purblind pseudo-democracy of
incapacity and cheek.

As I had no pecuniary interest in salt, wine, phosphate of soda, hides,
or cork--the chief exports of Cadiz--I left the much-bombarded port on
the _Vinuesa_, one of the boats of the Alcoy line plying to Malaga. My
immediate destination was the Hock, but we went no nearer than
Algeciras, the town on the opposite side of the bay, off which Saumarez
gave such a stern account of the Spanish and French combined on the 12th
of July, 1801. The sea was without a ripple. The bright coasts of two
Cont