Abuelo David Bentata & Hacienda Baruta

ABUELO DAVID BENTATA & HACIENDA BARUTA

For all the years of my young life, in fact till about some 10 or 15 years ago, we were the only Bentata family in Gibraltar.

The story starts in Ceuta in Spanish Morocco. Like most Jews in Ceuta, and earlier still in Morocco, our family originated in Spain in the years of the unholy inquisition. These Spanish Jews left in somewhat of a hurry and some settled mainly in Tetuan and Casablanca in Morocco. From there a few of those families, a couple of centuries later, moved North to Ceuta and settle there.

David Bentata was one of several brothers looking to the New World, to "go West", to make his fortune. He left for Caracas capital of Venezuela after acquiring North American nationality via Brooklyn, though I do not know why that was necessary. 



Like many of that era he actually settled in Caracas. David Bentata, after whom I am named, was apparently a very good businessman and a risk-taking entrepreneur. Within a few years he had become well established as a trader with a shop called "El Tesoro Escondido" in the street Calle de la Savana Grande. 

On a trip back to Europe he attended the wake of a distant relative in Gibraltar. In that hushed and sombre atmosphere he noticed a young girl aged 15 sitting next to her mother. They were all dressed in mourning black.

David whispered to a cousin of his from the Gibraltar community:

"Who is that young girl in black?"

"She is Donna Hassan Casino a cousin of the deceased"

"And that is her mother she's next to?"

"Yes"

"When I leave, go to the mother and tell her that I, David Bentata, will be back in 5 years’ time from Caracas and I would like to marry her daughter"
With that he paid his respects to the family in mourning, apparently looked fixedly at Donna, smiled and left.

True to his word, he returned 5 years later and officially proposed and married Donna and started a family in Ceuta. Donna was the aunt of the late Sir Joshua Hassan, just to keep things into context. In fact, Sir Joshua Hassan and all his family lived at 138 Main Street above what later became our home. Sir Josh's mother,  sister Fanny and their son Tito lived above us until relatively recently.

In Chapter 4 I talk about when I was in bed with a broken leg and having many visitors. On Friday night's after Sabbath evening prayers, Salvador – as Sir Joshua was then known -  and his family, as well as his brothers too, would visit their mother Lola, known to me as  "Tia Lola" and later would come down to visit me and to chat with my parents. This was at a time when there was a very important case in litigation in which Salvador was acting for the plaintiffs and absolutely certain he would win.....but he lost to some big shot London barristers who came as the defence team for the other side. I remember this vividly since, uncharacteristically, grown-ups chatted incessantly about this complicated case thinking that I was too young to understand. I was not. I remember thinking how confident Primo Salvador was yet he lost it and that impressed on me not to go to court even with a winning case ….. It can still be lost.

"La maldición de la gitana: Tenga pleitos y los ganes"

"The gypsy's curse: “May you have much litigation ....and win" ....
Think about it, any of you who ever had to take a case to court, you can win it but yes almost inevitably could continue embroiled in the legal shenanigans that end up costing you an arm leg and half a testicle.

Back to David Bentata and Donna.

They married & lived in Ceuta with four children but David had renal problems. He was advised to go to Alhama de Granada to “take the waters” and he did. He took the waters …..and died suddenly there and then at the age of 42 or 43! His body was brought over (as a passenger in the back seat of a car, complete with hat and sunglasses, so I have been told .... move aside "Weekend at Bernie's!")

Donna was a widow at 29 living in the city of Ceuta that was not her hometown and very much at a loss both from being widowed so unexpectedly and from really not knowing much about the business affairs of her husband as was the custom in those days.
She returned to Gibraltar to the bosom of her family and dedicated the rest of her life to raising her four children as best she could.
The eldest daughter was my aunt Orita who married my godfather Abraham Levy. She was warm and loving god-mother to me, a lady whose apple of her eye l was.
Then came Rachel who married Pepe Balensi of a gone shop Vogue opposite the Emporium. She would come for me each Sunday morning till l broke my leg and we would go together to the Churreria in City Mill Lane. Then we’d have a churros breakfast at her home (above the big Seruya perfumery main shop)
Then came Dad, who was 2 years old when his father died, and then Maruchi. She was just a baby of a few months old then. Maruchi later married Pepe Brew and established the Wimpy Bar in Line Wall Road.

It turns out that David had bought one of the biggest ranches in Venezuela called Hacienda Baruta, till recently one of the biggest land holdings in Venezuela. He also purchased property in Ceuta, but having become a gentleman of leisure he was content to delegate everything to his managers. As a child I heard stories about my intrepid grandfather.
One of them was that he was approached in Caracas by one of the “temporary” presidents or Government Councillors at the time. This man had fallen out of favour with the new regime and needed money get a boat out of Venezuela while he was still alive. David bought a full set of horse dressage, saddle, stirrups, bridle and ornaments everything you can imagine for a horse. all in silver. For many years we had it in a special showcase in our family home until we got tired of polishing that silver and put it in a box somewhere and no longer know where it is.

Another story is about the Hacienda Baruta.  
David had rented the ranch to someone in Venezuela.  But the rent was not coming in. David & his family lived from income of rents and if these were not forthcoming, he was short of money. Apparently, he had sent a letter to his manager in Venezuela asking what the hell was happening with the rents. I remember reading a letter from the manager in reply which went something like this:

" Aayy señor David es que no se acuerda usted de la última vez que fuimos a cobrarle el alquiler a El Cóndor? Empezó a pegarnos tiros, mato a los dos caballos, y salimos nosotros con vida porque Dios tuvo misericordia!"

(Translaton: " oh Mr David don't you remember the last time we went to collect rent from "El Condor"(?!) he drew his gun and shot our horses from under us and we barely escaped with our lives?")

The reader will understand why THIS David Bentata doesn't own Hacienda Baruta or anything else in Venezuela, least of all in these troubled times.
Clint Eastwood was not around to help Grandad out then.